brings forward strong arguments even for the latter possibility, though they do not seems to me conclusive. For instance, the fact that a plot of grass looks different from a piece of green wood though you do not distinguish the separate blades does not surely prove that you really perceive the separate blades. Would the facts not be equally explained by saying that we had learnt by experience that visual objects of a certain quality were always connected with physical things which under more favourable circumstances cause the perception of visual objects in which parts are actually perceived? Then such appearances would be connected by association with a judgment that they represented wholes with distinct parts, whilst others (like that due to the green piece of wood) would not. And in general I do not see that the fact that when a sensation is attended to it is not felt to be something quite new is a proof that it was actually present before. It is clear that you cannot strictly perceive the newness or oldness of a sensation, but must judge it. This judgment may be based on an actual comparison, but it clearly is not usually, and, least of all, in the cases with which Prof. Stout deals here. Here it seems to me to be rather based on a felt quality of the present perception, and this felt quality certainly gives no proof that the judgment which accompanies it is true.

A word of praise is due to Miss Costelloe's article, which is one of the best expositions of Bergson that I have seen. She is greatly helped by knowing much more about the mathematical views of the continuum which Bergson attacks than that author himself or most of his commentators. Interpenetration, she says, means that none of the parts of a whole would be the same if they were parts of any other whole. This however would not prove, as Bergson thinks, that the parts of interpenetrating wholes cannot be classified, unless all resemblance be reduced to identity in difference. Whilst I agree with Miss Costelloe that there is a relation of resemblance as distinct from identity in difference, I think she overlooks a distinction, which, if recognised, would enable her to grant the possibility of classification for the parts of interpenetrating wholes even on the identity-in-difference theory. She takes the identity as that of an element whilst most people take it as that of a quality. I see no reason whatever why the parts of interpenetrating wholes should not be instances of many common universals. Miss Costelloe's objection to the mathematical theory of the continuum is not that it is inconsistent, nor that it is possible to state in conceptual terms any other account of what you mean by a continuum, but simply that you can see that it does not genuinely analyse the continua of which you are directly aware. In one sense I agree; the mathematical account of motion no more describes the object of the perception of motion than does the physical theory of light describe what you perceive when you see a colour. But, on the other hand, it seems to me that the mathematical and physical theories tell us about much more important facts in reality than perceived motion and colour. The latter are only of importance as indications of the presence of what the theories do describe accurately.

I have no space to criticise the remaining articles, many of which are of interest. I can only regretfully notice that Mr. Carlile, like so many other philosophers from Lotze downwards, has been led astray about non-Euclidean geometry by Helmholtz's most unfortunately-worded article.

C. D. BROAD.

The Meaning of God in Human Experience: A Philosophic Study of Religion. By WILLIAM ERNEST HOCKING, Ph.D. New Haven: Yale University Press. London: Henry Frowde, 1912. Pp. xxxiv, 586. The author of this monograph does not attempt to develop a conception of God by purely speculative thinking. As the title of the book indicates, it is a study of the working of the religious consciousness, and seeks to show the significance of God in the experience of mankind. In the Preface the author explains at some length his attitude to current types of philosophical theory. In what he terms "Classical Idealism" he discerns a weakness: it does not do the work of religious truth, and it offers us an idea of God which is lacking in spiritual power. The latter criticism seems more relevant than the former. As regards Pragmatism Dr. Hocking is critical, though not unsympathetic. The proposition "whatever works is true" is neither valid nor useful as a test. On the other hand, the proposition that "what does not work is not true" is both valid and important. This negative pragmatism, we are told, is of great value in the field of religion. But the writer rejects the theory that man makes truth, and quite rightly points out that an ultimate deference to what is given is necessary to the religious mind. Dr. Hocking's belief is, that the defects of Idealism and Pragmatism are made good by Mysticism, regarded as the practice of union with God and the theory of that practice.

The book then is a study of the working of religion in order to exhibit its inner meaning. Following out his plan the author, after a preliminary statement, goes on to discuss the part played by ideas and feelings in the religious consciousness. Parts III. and IV. deal with "The Need of God," and "How Men Know God". The concluding parts (V. and VI.) treat of Mysticism" and the "Fruits of Religion".

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The present reviewer must confess that he has found it very difficult to judge Dr. Hocking's book fairly. With many of the positions taken up it is possible to agree cordially, and his remarks often reveal insight and are suggestive. But Dr. Hocking sometimes does not draw a sufficiently clear line between a theory he is discussing and his own theory; and one could often wish his way of putting things was more natural and simple. As an illustration of the latter fault take his mode of stating the truth that religion is anti-individualistic. "Religion holds selfsufficiency in derision; religion is the comprehensive irony of the world toward all Owns. In opening every Art towards itself, it opens each toward every other through No-art all Arts become one, and one life courses through all of them" (p. 24). Sentences like these are apt to irritate a reader who likes a truth plainly stated.

Religion, says Dr. Hocking, can be best studied in its effects: and the principle is sound, provided you remember that the effects do not take you to the heart of the inner experience from which they issue. There are difficulties, it is admitted, in translating the experience into valid ideas, and this has given strength to the claim that religion may be adequately based on feeling. But an analysis of the relation of feeling to idea does not give support to this view; and it is found to be necessary that religion should express itself in terms of thought. For if ideas work through feelings, feelings in turn are guided by ideas. The writer claims a certain independence for ideas, however; and this leads him to reject any attempt to interpret religion purely through the feelings or the will. The portions of the volume which deal more directly with the conception of God leave something to be desired in the way of clearness and cogency. Hocking does not accept the idea of God as the all-inclusive whole, and he says the monism of the world is only such as to give

meaning to pluralism. One could wish, however, for a clearer explanation of the relation of the one to the other. The need of unity in the world is emphasised; and it is said we could not live without the Absolute, and God must be the Absolute. But most readers would like a more explicit statement of what is meant by the Absolute than is vouchsafed to them in these pages. On the whole subject of the place and meaning of God in experience we find Dr. Hocking's thought rather elusive, and we are not sure how far we have understood him. God, it seems, is necessarily implied in experience. In experience we are always dealing with a reality beyond ourselves. Yet the object of our knowing is common to all other knowing minds, and it can only be thus common because it is known by an Other Mind. God is the Other Mind which, in creating Nature, is also creating me. He is immediately and permanently known, and it is through the knowledge of God that I am able to know other men. The author devotes a number of pages to the examination of Natural Realism and our knowledge of Independent Reality. We are quite at one with him when he remarks that "an allegation of meaning does not swallow the object into the subject ". But, it may be through some defect of insight on our part, after honestly reading what he has to say, in the end we are by no means certain what degree of reality he attributes to the external world, and how he conceives it to be related to God. We may add, that in the treatment of the problem of valuation the function of the subject in conferring values on objects appears to be exaggerated. For important as that office is, it remains true that the whole wealth of values cannot be evolved from the subject: it must partly depend on the intrinsic character of objects themselves.

Dr. Hocking writes at length on Mysticism, to which he attaches a very broad meaning. Here he is dealing with a congenial theme, and the reader will often find what he has to say instructive, as, for example, in his remarks on the principle of Alternation. In concluding this somewhat inadequate notice we think it well to say, that a reader in fuller sympathy with Dr. Hocking's literary manner and style of thinking would probably write more appreciatively of his book.

G. GALLOWAY.

The Education of Self (L'Education de Soi-même). By Dr. PAUL DUBOIS. Authorised Translation, by EDWARD G. RICHARDS. New York and London: Funk & Wagnalls Company, 1911. Pp. 349.

This is a new translation from the latest French edition and supersedes a former translation of the same work which was published in 1909 under the title Self-Control and How to Secure It. It seems to be an accurate translation though full of echoes of French idiom. The spelling is American.

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The aim of the book is to help moral weaklings, such as those whom the author meets in his neuropathological clinic, to turn over a new leaf. It consists of eighteen essays bearing such titles as Humility," Courage," and "Sincerity," and is so far reminiscent of the works of Dr. Samuel Smiles, against which many an Englishman has a doubtless unjustifiable grudge dating from the reluctant acceptance of those volumes as a birthday present at about the age of fifteen. But on dipping into this book the reader is surprised to find that what is urged upon him as an aid to moral improvement is the idea of determinism. This is so curious that many will be tempted to read to the end who might otherwise have laid the volume down. The argument is somewhat as follows:

By "moral determinism" is meant that we are each of us exactly what heredity and environment have made us. We therefore cannot be blamed in any way for any of our thoughts or actions, nor can we be praised. We cannot praise ourselves, and thus we become humble, we cannot blame others, and so we become tolerant and indulgent. To those who have sinned the author further offers this doctrine as an antidote to remorse, while he assures them that if in the future they keep clearly in mind the evil results of continuing their bad habits, this change in the forces acting on them, produced by his advice, will inevitably make them act in a way different from and better than their past deeds for which he is bound to give plenary indulgence.

The pragmatic test of this has doubtless been applied by Dr. Dubois, whose experience with neurasthenic and neurotic patients is the foundation upon which his book stands but we imagine that he would be among the first to agree that racial differences might account for this appeal to determinism appearing much less cogent, as we think, to English readers. There is, however, much to be said for it, as a contrast with some of the hortatory ethics of William James may make clear. James's insistence on the power of habits based on transitory instincts is in many ways much the same thing as Dr. Dubois' moral determinism, but the application is curiously different. In his Talks on Psychology the American philosopher says: "The drunken Rip Van Winkle, in Jefferson's play, excuses himself for every fresh dereliction by saying, I won't count this time! Well, he may not count it, and a kind Heaven may not count it; but it is being counted none the less. Down among his nerve-cells and fibres the molecules are counting it, registering and storing it up to be used against him when the next temptation comes. Nothing we ever do is, in strict scientific literalness, wiped out." Now compare from L'Education de Soi-même: "Each relapse belongs to the past periods of life; of the future neither you nor I know anything yet. The faults of our life are like railway accidents a train is derailed; that belongs to the past, and it is no reason that the next one should also run off the rails. Is it not probable that the pointsman found to be at fault will give more careful attention to his duty in the future?" (p. 207).

James is good for those still virtuous, for his warning may prevent the formation of bad habits. But his words would be rather discouraging, would they not, to poor old Rip if he wanted to reform? To such the words of Dr. Dubois might bring help, though they are unfortunately less true for the pointsman will not necessarily be more careful if he enjoys accidents and is only going to be punished years hence.

Dr. Dubois mentions suggestion somewhere. The idea of moral determinism which he urges has this disadvantage, that it suggests carrying determinism to a logical conclusion; and then, since this leads either to fatalism or to paradox, the reader is not helped by the book but only bewildered. For here, of course, determinism is not carried to the bitter end, as may be seen from many phrases, such as the insistence on psychasthenia instead of neurasthenia; or, "Determinism is not a predestination. The future is still unknown (p. 204); or again, "There are no born criminals, predestined to crime from the beginning (p. 70). The fact is that determinism is, like the law of conservation of energy, apparently true for the whole universe, but certainly not for any part of it. And just as Dr. Dubois' book may come like an energybringing comet into the system of an individual life, and turn habits, like planets, from their accustomed paths, so what in ordinary parlance we call blame and praise may change a life. The reason we blame the young scapegrace but not the weakly plant (cf. p. 110) is that we know

our blame may have an effect in the former case but not in the latter : but this book may encourage some to answer:

They sneer at me for leaning all awry ;

What did the Hand then of the Potter shake?

GODFREY H. THOMSON.

Minds in Distress: A Psychological Study of the Masculine and Feminine Mind in Health and in Disorder. By A. E. BRIDGER, B.A., B.Sc., M.D., F.R.S. Edin.; Fellow of the Royal College of Physician of Edinburgh; Fellow of the Royal Society of Medicine of London. London: Methuen & Co., Ltd. Pp. 181.

This small book, which is obviously written out of great wealth of experience, is rather a book of practical direction than of theoretical discussion; but it starts from a somewhat novel standpoint, namely, a reasoned distinction between the "masculine" and 'feminine" types of mind. The mind, according to its duties, may be divided into the conscious, the sub-conscious and the reflex (automatic or organic). In normal persons these three constitute the ego; but they are not to be thought of as separate except for convenience of speech. "There are no fixed and real boundaries, and directly circumstances become unusual the order of this relationship is overthrown and they invade each other's department and provide us with many extraordinary phenomena" (p. 5). There is a general balance of the three constituents, one arm of the balance being "Common Sense" 66 or common mind" (p. 7). "This consists of our general store of knowledge, a register of our conclusions to date, and though it is being perpetually modified in composition by such new ideas as we accept and absorb, yet is the more stable arm of the balance" (p. 7). The other arm consists of the new impressions flooded into the mind through the whole mechanism of experience. The content of common mind" and its balance depend upon the individual's relation to current social opinion. When this relationship is in any way affected, the egoistic elements in the constitution tend to predominate: the wholesome check of criticism is removed and there is generated the "hermit mind," which tends to become morbidly subjective. The patient becomes "the victim of self-suggestion, or disorder of the attention, and can only be cured, as we shall see, by one who will completely unravel the tangle and at the same time place and keep the sufferer in the active moving world of normal minds" (p. 12). Mental comfort depends on the preservation of the mental balance between "common sense (the formed individual conscious mind), and all novel experience that is presented to it. Minds at once fall into "distress" when this balance is broken. In the masculine type of mind, the reasoning, practical faculties predominate. Hence, when, from any cause, the relation of a man to the ordinary social mind is interrupted, he tends to become neurasthenic. The feminine type of mind is predominantly instinctive and emotional. Hence when the balance is broken, the patient tends to become hysterical. This is the fundamental distinction of the book. Chapters are devoted to the characterisation of the masculine and the feminine types. The author is careful not to say "male" and "female" because, in his view, the masculine type is not confined to the male sex nor the feminine type to the female. His last chapter gives a rough quantitive formula to indicate what proportions are maintained in each type between the ideas relating to self, the ideas relating to others, sensations, instincts, impulses and intuitions, reflex, muscular and

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