Part 31

The only criterion, then, which we have been able to find for the fulfilment of the purpose, for the truth of the idea as representing an object in the absolute system, is the sense of wholeness, the "pause of satisfaction," which we experience in realizing such specific purposes as "singing in tune." And if it be said again: "Precisely so; this only shows how intimate is the relation between our experience and the absolute system of ideas;" then must it also be said once more, either that the absolute system can be nothing more than an abstraction of the element of wholeness or wholing in our experience, or that thus far the relation appears to rest upon sheer assumption.

Again, it may be insisted, as suggested at the outset of this discussion, that the idea can well have two purposes: one to help constitute and solve the specific problems of daily life; the other to represent the absolute system. Very well, we must then make out a case for the latter. If the purposes are to be different, the purpose to represent the Absolute should have a criterion of its own. This we have not been able to find. On the contrary, whenever pushed to the point of stating a criterion for the representation of the absolute system, we have had to appeal, in every case, to the fulfilment of a specific finite purpose. And even if this purpose to represent the absolute system had some apparent standard of its own, we should not be content to leave the matter so. We should scarcely be satisfied to observe as a mere matter of fact that the idea has a reconstructive function, and _also_ a representative function. Such a brute dualism would be intolerable.

IV. SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS

In the end, the outcome of the endeavor to establish a connection between the relation of the idea to human experience and its relation to the absolute system does not appear satisfying. The idea is left either with two independent purposes--one to reconstruct finite experience, the other to represent and symbolize the absolute system--or one of these purposes is merged in the other. When the attempt is made from the standpoint of the absolute system, the reconstructive purpose is swallowed up in the representative. When, on the other hand, the need for a basis of distinction between truth and error "here on this bank and shoal of time" is felt, the representative disappears in the reconstructive function. Nowhere are we able to discover a true unification. To be sure, we have been told again and again that the representation of the absolute object, if only we could accomplish it, would be "the final fulfilment," "completion," and "realization" of the human, finite purpose. But besides a confessed impotency at the very start, this involves, as we have seen, either a sudden transformation of the specific purpose of singing in tune, etc., into that of representing the absolute system, or a sheer assumption that the representation of the absolute object does somehow help in the realization of the specific finite purpose. Nowhere is there any account of _how_ this help would be given.

And this suggests that if the analysis of the idea as purpose, given at the outset of Mr. Royce's lecture, had been developed further, if the conditions and origin of purpose had been examined, it is difficult to see how this discrepancy could have escaped disclosure. Mr. Royce starts his account by simply accepting from psychology a general description of the purposive character of the idea. Even in the more detailed passages on purpose we have nothing but descriptions of purpose after it is formed. Nothing is said of the origin of this purposiveness. The purposive character of experience is of course very manifest, but what is the significance of this purposing in experience as a whole? What is the source and the material of the purposes?

It is this uncritical acceptance of the purposive quality of the idea that obscures the irrelevancy of its relation to the absolute system. If the idea must merely be or have a purpose, then it may as well be that of representing the absolute system as any other. Of course, there are troublesome questions as to how our finite ideas ever got such a purpose; but, after all, if it is simply a matter of having any sort of a purpose, representing the absolute system may answer as well as anything. But when now we come to deal with the problem of fulfilment, with the question of truth and error, we have to reckon with this neglect of the source of this purposiveness.

It is this unanalyzed ground of the purpose that makes the matter of fulfilment so ambiguous. Such an analysis, we believe, would have shown that the conditions out of which the idea as a purpose arises determine also the sort of fulfilment possible. There are, indeed, one or two very general, but very significant, statements in this direction, if they were only followed up. For instance:

In doing what we often call "making up our minds" we pass from a vague to a definite state of will and of resolution. In such cases we begin with perhaps a very indefinite sort of restlessness which arouses the question: "What is it that I want, what do I desire, what is my real purpose?"

In other words, what does this restlessness mean? What is the matter? What is to be done?

Purpose is born, then, out of restlessness and dissatisfaction. But whence comes this restlessness and dissatisfaction? Surely we cannot at this point charge it to a discrepancy between our finite idea and the absolute object, since it is just this restlessness that is giving birth to the purposive idea. One thing, at any rate, appears pretty certain: this "indefinite restlessness" presupposes some sort of activity already going on. The restlessness is not generated in a vacuum. But why should this activity get into a condition to be described as "indefinite restlessness" and dissatisfaction?

Repugnant as it will be to many to have psycho-physical, to say nothing of biological, doctrines introduced into a logical discussion, I confess that, at this point facing the issue squarely, I see no other way. And it appears to me that just at this point it is the fear of phenomenalistic giants that has kept logic wandering so many years in the wilderness.

What, then, in this action already going on is responsible for this restlessness? First let us note that "indefinite restlessness" and "dissatisfaction" are terms descriptive of what Mr. James calls "the first thing in the way of consciousness." This assumes consciousness as a factor in activity. So that our question now becomes: What is the significance of this factor of restless, dissatisfied consciousness in activity? Now, there appears no way of getting at the part which consciousness plays different from that of discovering the function of anything else. And this way is simply that of observing, as best we may, the conditions under which consciousness operates, and what it does. Here the biologist and psychologist with one voice inform us that this indefinite restlessness which marks the point of the operation of consciousness arises where, in a co-ordinated system of activities, there develop out of the continuation of the activity itself new conditions calling for a readjustment and reconstruction of the activity, if it is to go on. Consciousness then appears to be the function which makes possible the reorganization of the results of a process back into the process itself, thus constituting and preserving the continuity of activity. So interpreted, consciousness appears to be an essential element in the conception of a self-sustaining activity. This "indefinite restlessness," in which consciousness begins, marks, then, the operation of the function of reconstruction without which activity would utterly break down.

Precisely because, then, the idea "as a plan" is projected and constructed in response to this restlessness must its fulfilment be relevant to it. It is when the idea as a purpose, a plan, born out of this matrix of restlessness, begins to aspire to the absolute system, and attempts to ignore or repudiate its lowly antecedents, that the difficulties concerning fulfilment begin. They are the difficulties that beset every ambition which aspires to things foreign to its inherited powers and equipment.

A detailed account at this point of the construction and fulfilment of the idea as "a plan of action" would contain a consecutive reinterpretation of Mr. Royce's principal rubrics. Such an account the limits of this paper forbid. We shall have to be content with pointing out in a general way a few instances by way of illustration.

In the first place, it is in this matrix of indefinite restlessness out of which the idea is born that the "fragmentary character of experience," of which Mr. Royce is so keenly conscious, appears. But, once more, this fragmentary character is discernible only by contrast with the wholeness on both sides of the fragments; the wholeness that precedes the restlessness, and the new "pause of satisfaction" toward which it points. Nor must we forget that the habit matrix, out of the disintegration of which the restlessness is immediately born, does not exist as some metaphysical ultimate out of which thought as such has evolved. Back of it is some previous purpose in whose service habit was enlisted. On the other hand, this disintegration means that the old purpose, the old plan, must be reconstructed; that it, along with the disintegrated habit, becomes the material for a new plan, a new wholing of experience.

In the next place, the construction of this new plan of action does involve "re-presentation." The first step in the transition from the condition of "indefinite restlessness" toward a "plan" is the diagnosis, the definition of the restlessness. This involves the re-presentation in consciousness of the activities, out of which the restlessness has arisen. This re-presentation is also the beginning of the reconstruction. The diagnosis of the singing activity as being "out of tune" is the negative side of beginning to sing in tune. It is now a commonplace of psychology that all representation is reconstruction. And this is where Mr. Royce's emphasis of the symbolic, the algebraic, as against the copy type of representation, has its application. All we want here is some sort of an image--visual, auditory, motor, it matters not--that shall serve to focus attention upon the singing activities until they are reconstructed sufficiently to bring us to the "pause of satisfaction."[203] But nowhere in all this is there any reference to the idea's object in the absolute system. Nor does there appear to be any call or place for such reference. The representation here is a part of the very process of forming the plan of further reconstruction out of the materials of the specific situation. Representation is not the plan's own end and aim. This is to stimulate a new set of activities that shall lead out of the present state of unrest and dissatisfaction.

It is also true, as already mentioned, that in the process of fulfilling the plan, of realizing the idea, further determination and specification is produced in the plan itself. The idea as a plan is certainly not formed all at once. Nor does it reach and maintain a fixed content. No purpose is ever realized in its original content. But this does not mean that its realization is, therefore, "partial," "incomplete," or "fragmentary." It is a part of its business to change. The purpose is not there for its own sake. The purpose is there as a _means_ to the reorganization and reconstruction of experience. It exists, as Mr. Royce says, as an instrument, "as a tool" for "introducing control into experience." And as, in the process of use, a tool always undergoes modification, so here, as an instrument for reconstructing habit, the plan, too, undergoes reconstruction. Indeed, as regards its content, it is itself, as Mr. Royce says, as much a habit, as much "the product of association," as any part of experience. The purposing function, the purposing activity, remains; its content is constantly shifting.

Here, too, is where "the submission of the idea to the object" takes place. Only, here, it is not a submission to an object already constituted as it is in Mr. Royce's conception of the absolute system. The idea as an hypothetical plan of action, as a trial construction, must be tested by the activities it is attempting to reconstruct. That is to say, at this point the question is: Does the plan apply to the activities actually involved in the unrest? Has it diagnosed the case properly, and is it therefore one in and through which these activities can operate and come to unity again? The "submission" here is the submission of the purpose, the end, to the material out of which it is formed, and with which it must work. But again this material to which the idea submits itself is anything but finally fixed and "complete" in form. On the contrary, as we have seen, it is just the fragmentary and incomplete condition of this material that calls for the idea. Yet the idea as a plan must be true to its mission, and to this material, and in this sense must submit itself to whatever modifications and reconstruction the material "dictates" as necessary in order that it may function in and through the plan.[204]

On the other hand--and this is the point to which Mr. Royce gives most emphasis--it is equally apparent that "the idea must determine its object." On this all philosophy, from Plato down, which approaches reality "from the side of ideas" is at stake. And this does not appear impossible if, again, the object is not already and eternally fixed and complete. If the object is one constructed out of the very mass of habit material which the idea is reconstructing, and if "determination" means not copying, but construction, then, indeed, must the idea "determine its object." Just for that does it have its being. That is its sole mission. Here the determination of the object by the idea is not a mere abstract postulate; it is not based upon a general consideration of the disastrous consequences to our logical and ethical assumptions, if it were not so determined. Here not only the general necessity for it, but the _modus operandi_ of this determination, is apparent. But, at the risk of tedious iteration, must it again be said that for the determination of the completed and perfected object in the absolute system not only is there nowhere any _modus_ to be found, but, even if there were, it is difficult to see what it would have to do with the kind of determination demanded by such a specific sort of unrest as "singing out of tune," etc. The process of submission is thus a reciprocal one. Neither in the object nor in the idea is there a fixed scheme or order _to_ which the other must submit and conform. And this is simply the logical commonplace that submission cannot be a one-sided affair, that determination must be reciprocal.

This brings us to what might as well have been our introductory as our concluding observation. It has just been said that the determination of the object by the idea is a vital matter in any philosophy which approaches reality "from the side of ideas." Such a way of approach must assert "the primacy of the world of ideas over the world as a fact."[205] Mr. Royce thus further states the case:

I am one of those who hold that when you ask what is an idea, and how can ideas stand in any true relation to reality, you attack the world knot in the way that promises most for the untying of its meshes. This way is of course very ancient. It is the way of Plato.... It is in a different sense the way of Kant. If you view philosophy in this fashion, you subordinate the study of the world as fact to a reflection upon the world as idea. Begin by accepting upon faith and tradition the mere brute reality of the world as fact, and there you are sunk deep in an ocean of mystery.... The world of fact surprises you with all sorts of strange contrasts.... It baffles you with caprices like a charming and yet hopelessly wayward child, or like a bad fairy. The world of fact daily announces itself to you as a defiant mystery.[206]

Here we have concisely stated at the outset of the lectures the position which we have seen to be fraught with so many difficulties: the position, namely, which accepts to start with the opposition of the world as idea and the world as fact, as something given, instead of something to be accounted for; and which assumes that this opposition stands in the way of reaching reality, whereas it possibly may be of the very essence of reality. To be sure, the above statement of this opposition between the world as fact and as idea is but the expository starting-point. And it is true that the rest of the argument is occupied in the attempt to close this breach. But, as we have seen, except where the idea is expounded as a specific purpose, arising out of a specific experience of unrest, such as singing out of tune, etc.--except in this case, the breach is taken as found and the attempt to heal it is made by working forward from the opposition as given instead of back to its source. This opposition, of course, has its forward goal, but the difficulty is to find it without an exploration of its source. It is back in that matrix out of which the opposition has arisen that the line of direction to the goal is to be found.

Moreover, in starting from this opposition of fact and idea as given, the only method of quelling it seems to be either that of reducing one side to terms of the other, or of appealing to some new, and therefore external unifying, agency. But if the factors in the opposition are found, not one in submission _to_ the other, nor having the "primacy" _over_ the other, but as co-ordinate and mutually determining functions, developed from a common matrix and co-operating in the work of reconstructing experience, some of the difficulties involved in the alternative methods just mentioned appear to drop out.[207]

The point may be clearer if we recur to the passage and ask just what is meant by "the defiantly mysterious," "baffling," and "capricious" character of the world as fact--as "brute reality." First, if by the world as "fact;" as "brute reality," we mean experience so brute that it is not yet "lighted up with ideas," it is difficult to see how it could be mysterious or capricious, since mystery and caprice appear only when experience ceases to be taken merely as it comes and an inquiry for connections and meanings has begun. That is to say, there can be neither mystery nor caprice except in relation to some sort of order. And order is always a matter of ideas. But it is sufficient to submit Mr. Royce's own statement on this point:

We all of us from moment to moment have experience. This experience comes to us in part as brute fact; light and shade, sound and silence, pain and grief and joy.... These given facts flow by; and were they all, our world would be too much of a blind problem for us even to be puzzled by its meaningless presence.[208]

If next we take the world of fact as in contrast and co-ordinate with the world of ideas, mystery and caprice here, certainly, are not all on the side of the fact. Here, again, must they be functions of the relation between fact and idea. We have seen that without thought there is neither mystery nor caprice. The idea then cannot take part in the production of mystery and caprice, and forthwith deny its parenthood. Of course, mystery and caprice are not the final fruits of this co-ordinate opposition of fact and idea. They are but the _first_ fruits--the relatively unorganized embryonic mass which through the further activities of the parent functions shall develop into the symmetry of truth and law.

There appears then no ultimate "primacy" of either idea or fact over the other. Nor does either appear as a better way of approach _to_ reality than the other. It is only when we say: "Lo! here in the idea," _or_ "Lo! there in the fact is reality," that we find it "imperfect," "incomplete," and "fragmentary," and must straightway "look for another." But surely not in "a certain absolute system of ideas," which is "the object of love and hope, of desire and will, of faith and work, but never of present finding," shall we seek it. Rather precisely in the loving and hoping, desiring and willing, believing and working, shall we find that reality in which and for which both the "World as fact" and the "World as idea" have their being.

INDEX

ABSOLUTE: as constituting reality, 348; as related to truth and error, 363 ff.; as a hypostatized abstraction, 369.

ABSOLUTE SELF, 330.

ACCESSORY: thought as, 58 ff.

ACTIVITY: as social, 74; thought as, 78; interrupted, and judgment, 154; and hypothesis, 170; as sensori-motor, 193, 200; (see Function, Reconstruction).

ÆSTHETIC EXPERIENCE: appreciative rather than reflective, 255; not a form of valuation, 339, 340.

ALTERNATIVES: in judgment, 155; (see Disjunction).

ANALOGY, 171, 172, 175; in relation to habit, 176.

ANAXAGORAS: in relation to the One and the Many, 219; his [Greek: nous], 220, 221.

ANAXIMANDER: and the infinite, 209; his process of segregation, 214, 215.

ANAXIMENES: his [Greek: archê], 209; his scheme of rarefaction and condensation, 209, 213, 215, 224.

ANGELL, J. R., 14 note, 345 note.

ANIMISM, 49 note.

ANTECEDENTS OF THOUGHT (see Stimulus).

APPLIED LOGIC: Lotze's definition, 6.

APPRECIATION: distinguished from reflection, 255, 339; not to be identified with valuation, 320-24, 338.

[Greek: Archê]: meaning of search for, 211 ff.

ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS: refers to meanings, 33, 34; connection with thought, 80; doctrine of: analogous to subjectivism in ethics, 261; presupposes a mechanical metaphysics, 330, 331 note.

ATOMISTS: treatment of the One and the Many, 221.

AUSTRIAN ECONOMISTS, 307, 333.

AUTHORITY AND CUSTOM: logic of attitude of obedience to, 286; social conditions compatible with dominance of, 286; failure of, as moral control, 286.

BACON: extreme empirical position, 156 ff.; view of induction, 157, 158.

"BAD": practical significance of, as moral predicate, 259; relation to "wrong," 335.

BALDWIN, J. M., 257 note, 378 note.

Becoming: as relative, 206.

"BEGRÜNDUNG" AND "BESTÄTIGUNG": Wundt's distinction of, 179; criticised, 181, 182.

BIOLOGY: view of sensation, 58; use of, in logic, 374, 375.

BOSANQUET, B., 59 note, 147, 189, 190, 191, 300; (see Study V).

BRADLEY, F. H., 47 note, 54 note, 90 ff., 147, 189, 190, 191, 192, 194, 299 note 2, 331 note, 332 note, 353.

BRENTANO, 250 note.

BUTLER, J., 277.

CERTAIN, THE: relation to tension, 50, 51; as datum, 57.

COEFFICIENTS OF REALITY, PERCEPTION, AND RECOGNITION: defined, 263-7; present in economic and ethical experience, 267-9.

COEXISTENCE, COINCIDENCE, AND COHERENCE, 28, 29, 33-6, 58, 59, 68.

CONCEPTIONS: Lotze's view of, 59; Bacon's attitude toward, 157; relation to fact, 168; function in Greek philosophy, 342; (see Idea, Image, Hypothesis).

CONCEPTUAL LOGIC: as related to idea and image, 188-92.

CONSCIENCE: evolution of, 286, 287; ambiguous and transitional character of, 287; metaphysical implications of, as moral standard, 288; not autonomous, 288.

CONSCIENTIOUSNESS: dangers of, consequent upon ideal of self-realization, 316; Green's defense of, referred to, 316 note.

CONSERVATION: of energy and mass, 206; (see Energy).