The transition from a vague generalization to an accurate statement is the first step on the road to science. It is a step of great importance. Vague generalizations find a ready entrance into many minds, and produce a comfortable sense of satisfaction that is easily mistaken for knowledge, and that stops further questioning. An exact statement of fact, on the other hand, draws attention to detail, and shows itself to be set in a mass of further detail that it challenges you to explore. “Nature abhors a vacuum” sounds final; it explains why water will rise in an ordinary suction-pump rather than allow a vacuum to be produced; why the schoolboy’s “sucker” will lift a stone; and many other phenomena of a similar kind. It explains everything by a phrase and stimulates no inquiry. But when Galileo noted that the pump would raise water only to a height of about 32 feet, and pointed out that this gives a measure of the extent to which Nature abhors a vacuum in its dealings with water, new questions arose, stimulating further investigation.

Only one adult in a hundred gets his food and clothing without doing anything directly in exchange for them. The other ninety-nine form active parts of the system of relations in society which will be called, in what follows here, economic; and even the one in the hundred who does not give, takes something, as children and imbeciles take, out of the store of services which are economic life. Boots and bread are but the bridges over which one man is connected with another, through services exchanged. The philosophy of social life, therefore, must “place” these economic relations in the whole complex unity of human experience. The science of economics analyses some of the aspects of the relations of men in exchanging services, and it provides a language which is already sufficiently current to be used here without full explanation of the terms. Therefore, without more ado, the philosophical aspects of the economic system may be considered in the terms of economic science, but outside the frontiers proper to that partial analysis.

Poppies in a field of corn may annoy a farmer and rejoice an artist. Clearly they are not in their right place, if the standard of judgment be immediate utility; but it is better that they should be accidentally there than nowhere at all to be found. The political organization of social life and, still more obviously, the economic, does not promote devotion to other purposes than those which appear to be practical in the eyes of men who cannot see very well. To suppose, for example, that beauty or truth is not useful is the result of philosophical nearsightedness. But there are some men, women, and children who are moved deeply by beauty and the divine whose emotion is not easily understood in political terms and is altogether unintelligible in terms of exchange-value.

There is so much truth in the conception of the state as a natural organism and of man as a political animal, as commonly contrasted with the various theories of the state as an artificial formation based on contract, or implied contract, that Aristotle's proposition is rarely criticized from any other standpoint. When Aristotle said that man was a political animal, that is that political life was his nature, and consequently that the state, as the ultimate development of his nature, was a natural institution, or, as we should say, an organism, he was, we may say with a good deal of certainty, speaking in the light of this contrast. But his theory must be judged on its own merits, and not on the demerits of that which he was attacking. We may grant that the state is natural; but we may nevertheless mean by “natural” something other than Aristotle means. And if our conception of Nature is different from his, it will follow that our agreement about the state is one of words only.

Some of the time we are conscious. But we are a very small part of the universe, and consciousness, so it seems, is a very small part of us. Yet that very small part is the starting-point of all knowledge and the field in which all our experience occurs.

The belief that the universe is fundamentally a unity, that there is, in other words, some fundamental principle from which all the variety of nature and experience can be derived, has been entertained in some form or another by the majority of philosophers. It is also the presupposition of most religions. If we hold that the universe is really one, or really a unity, it will follow that there is a distinction between reality and appearance. For the universe certainly appears as a plurality; it certainly seems, that is to say, that there are many things in the universe, chairs and tables and people and numbers and thoughts about them, which are really different one from another. If, then, the universe is really one, this appearance of plurality will be in some sense an illusory appearance, and it will be necessary to explain how this illusory appearance arises.

I propose in this article to consider the question of the relation between mind and body. This question raises some of the most difficult issues in philosophy and constitutes the main problem of psychology.

Philosophers less subtle than those of the Middle Ages feel no difficulty about such words as “and” or such phrases as “member of”; but even to write “man and society” has committed us to an assumption which may not be justifiable, and to say that men are “members” of a community or of a trade union is so alarming a metaphor that it would startle Duns Scotus. It is unwise, however, to ask philosophers what they mean when they feel very passionately about what they say, for the confusion becomes even greater than it was if passion gets into explanation. It is supposed to be obvious that men exist and that States and Trade Unions and Churches exist; and who would be so foolish as to raise difficulties about the difference between existence and essence? Many who claim to be scientists with regard to politics or economics suppose it to be obvious that there is an “essence” called “public opinion” or “the will of the people” or “utility”; and what Occamite would now dare to say that entities are not to be multiplied ?

In the problem of Meaning and Error, Epistemology, Logic, Psychology, and Etymology, all find an inevitable point of contact. It is necessary to go back little more than half a century to see something of the changes which have resulted in the present epoch of disintegration.

I noted two directions in which the scientific worker is seeking to advance. He is trying to give a more complete account of the actual detail of what is happening, and he is seeking wider and wider generalizations. As an observer, he must note what he observes, and, it would seem, omit nothing. But in seeking generalizations he must select, from among the features he observes, only those which he takes to be of general significance. Thence arises at least the appearance of a conflict in his activities. If he is too intent on the details of what he observes, his generalizations suffer; but if he leaves aside details too readily, his generalizations suffer equally. There is danger both in omitting and in not omitting.

Philosophical instruction in the French Universities usually consists in more or less direct preparation for the licence-ès-lettres (the “M.A.”) and the agrigation, or in informal discussion with candidates preparing for the Doctorate. But it has for long been the practice at the Sorbonne in Paris for the Professors to deliver a course of public lectures lasting throughout a half or the whole of the academic year. And since the eleinehts of logic and philosophy are taught in the top form of every lycèe quite a large part Of the ordinary educated public is able to follow with profit the communications of the foremost philosophers. This year, Professor A. Lalande lectures on “General Methodology”; Professor Brunschvicg on “The Object in Perception and in Science”; Professor Delacroix on “Consciousness and Personality”; Dr. Wallon on “Explanation and Constructive Thought in the Child”; Professor Basch on “The Æsthetic Categories,” and on “English Æsthetics in the Eighteenth Century,” and Professor E. Gilson on “The Main Problems of Mediaeval Philosophy.” At the College de France, Professor Le Roy lectures on “The Primitive Forms of Intelligence,” Professor Pierre Janet on “The Psychological Evolution of Personality,” and Professor Pièron on “Pain and Affective Reactions.”

Had I been asked any time last century to discourse to philosophers on a subject entitled “Beyond Physics,” I should have taken it as meaning “Metaphysics,” and have declined on the ground that they knew more about it than I did. But now that the subject has been suggested to me in the second quarter of the twentieth century, I realize that a certain number of physicists, especially mathematical ones, have gone beyond themselves in a semiphilosophical direction, have thrown our old physical ideas into some confusion, and have devised a number of complicated abstractions which they seem able to deal with by recondite methods invented for other purposes by the pure mathematicians. Of these they do not attempt to form any mental image, and do not encourage us to try to do so. They mistrust the method of physical imagery, or what they call “models,” which constituted one of the main methods of investigation in the nineteenth century; they are content to deal with abstract symbols, which presumably represent something real, though they mistrust the term “reality,” and decline to define it. The younger modern physicists are content to work in a nebulous region of unknown and perhaps unknowable entities, remote from our ordinary conceptions and everyday experiences; so that, whereas the old idea of explanation consisted in trying to express mysterious or recondite phenomena in terms of something with which we were more familiar, they now point out that our apparent familiarity with those simpler things was more or less of an illusion, that they furnished no valid explanation at all, and that the physical and engineering conceptions or habits of thought on which we depended were largely misleading.

Summary: In this survey I first consider two introductory books—the one an introduction to the theory of knowledge, the other an introduction to log—by August Messer and Arthur Drews respectively. I then proceed to E. v. Aster's very interesting History of English Philosophy, to a phenomenological study by Arnold Metzger, and to a discussion of pluralism monism, and dualism, by Boris Jakowenko. I conclude with notices o important new editions of Hegel, Franz Brentano, and Cusanus, and with a reference to the death of Max Scheler.

This survey first deals with The Downfall of Values, a collection of essays by Max Scheler, late Professor of Philosophy at Cologne. It then summarizes a small book on The Controversy Concerning Causation in Recent Physics, by Hugo Bergmann, for which Einstein has written a preface. Next it considers Georg Stieler's inquiry into The Individual and the Mob. Finally, it deals with Wilhelm Worringer's contribution to æsthetics in his Abstraction and Empathy.