The field of psychology : a survey of experience, individual, social, and genetic

Front matter

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Preface

From time to time the sciences pass through periods of great instability and unrest. Old categories are then brought under suspicion, fixed concepts revised, and new points of view eagerly sought. The occasions which introduce these disturbed eras are various. New facts may weaken old doctrines, as in modern physics, or a new way of regarding nature, as in the Darwinian biology, may lead to an upheaval and ultimately to the laying down of new foundations. But besides new knowledge and new points of view, novel distractions from without and even foreign doctrines and cults may, by their fascination or their glamour, disturb the serenity of accepted knowledge—especially where that knowledge is unseasoned or unattractive—and thus engender discontent and a demand for radical changes.

It is plain that, whatever the causes and the occasions may have been, psychology has just now passed through a restless decade. The signs of disturbance are still very clear in America ; and they are not wanting in England and upon the European Continent. One of the disturbing factors appears to have been the recent temporary employment of psychologists outside their own domain; another the increasing diversion of interest toward education, medicine and commerce; and still another the undisguised reproaches brought against psychology for its cloistered air of aloofness in a needy and “practical” world. Again, we see, in looking for significant circumstances, a wide adherence to the behavioristic maxim that “restless activity alone makes the man,” while the cults of healing and of Hygeia place their emphasis upon the abnormal and upon the psychoanalytical rites of purification.

v vi PREFACE

The marks of disorder in psychology, exaggerated, it may be, by the inveterate tendency of the patient toward “introspective” brooding, have recently led to a sober consultation of eager “experts” ready to diagnosticate, if not to cure. The counsel of one is exercise, to be actively taken in the busy, work-a-day world; another would eradicate the obsession of experimental accuracy and substitute for it a fixed belief in the power of clinical divination. One advises the patient to “lose his mind” in pure behaviorism; another to release his struggling and libidinous soul; still another, preferring radical methods, suggests transplanation upon the amorphous body of “education” ; while the biometrician insists that the only hope lies in a sudden metamorphosis of the student of mind into a human measuring-rod for “intelligence.” In the meantime the public, always impressed by the occult powers of the medical priesthood and half-persuaded that the patient is only a temperamental malade imaginaire about to mend his. ways, is crying upon the streets the “New Psychology.”

Who shall decide where counsel is clouded and when doctors disagree? Surely not the patient; unless perchance the patient should discover that his state is, after all, not really pathological. He may decide that new surroundings, new neighbors, and new employments have muddled him; that what he most needs is a run, a plunge, and an hour of calm reflection with a clear head. As for the “new psychology” of the daily papers and the popular magazines, we have had it constantly with us for many decades. In fact, the eighteenth century recognized it in its Erfahrungsseelenlehre; Herbart recreated it in a mathematical and “scientific” form; it reappeared in Fechner’s Psychophysik and in Wundt’s physiologische Psychologie. In America it was common talk in the nineties (when, by the way, the psychologist was reading Freud), and each of the last two decades has echoed it. Always the “new,” the revolutionary; albeit a new “new” with a constant shift of content and connotation.

PREFACE vil

But when we have made due allowance for the exaggeration of the passing moment and for a faulty perspective in time, we must still acknowledge that psychology is further from its moorings than it was at the end of the century. Then it had its compendious and articulated works. It had its Wundt, its Brentano, Stumpf, James and Ebbinghaus, to give a systematic setting and to orient the entire subject. Since that time a bare quarter-century has produced a literature approximating fifty-thousand titles, most of them monographs and articles not integrated into any system or so much as representing any common point of view. It is, in part, this difficulty which afflicts the psychologist at the present time. He grasps here and there for a support or for a principle of unification ; but, unless he is satisfied with a partial view, as the “clinical” view of psychoanalysis, the “behavioristic” view of stimulus-and-response, or the “efficiency” view of “intelligence,” he is without a foundation.

He who would go beyond these partial views and beyond a mere psychology-of-the-moment is obliged to reconsolidate the disjointed parts and to redintegrate the old and the new. Such a catholic survey is especially difficult in a restless and instable era. It calls for the most rigorous criticism and for the most unsparing rejection on every side. It means the salvage of all that is worth keeping from the psychological labors and laboratories of Europe and America; and it also means the extraction of whatever is psychologically substantial in Freudian doctrine, in behaviorism, in phenomenology, in the alleged arts of “testing intelligence,” inthe attractive doctrine of the Gestalt, and in all the other products and proposals of recent years.

The Field of Psychology attempts this difficult—almost hopeless—task of union and of integration. It appeals as little as possible to dogmas and theories ; and it avoids as much as possible the neighborly distractions and allurements of biology, sociology, education and medicine. The entire treat-

Vili PREFACE ment rests pon the conception of the psychosomatic organism, that is to say, the total living creature which is at once bodily (or somatic) and mental. The mental aspect of this total organism appears first in experience (Parts I and II), and secondly as a resource of the organism in the psychosomatic functions (Part III). Everything is stated either in terms of experience or of conjoint function or operation. Experience is directly observed or inspected (the term “inspection” being substituted for “introspection”). Its composition reveals a wide qualitative variety, and its integration many organized structures and configurations. The functions are regarded as invariably involving both experiential (mental) and somatic (bodily) factors. The concept of pure “mental functions” is rejected; for it is found to be the total organism which perceives, remembers, imagines, acts and thinks. A critical study of the methods of test and of psychophysics falls under the “limits of psychosomatic function.” The difficult problems of sociality and development, usually treated as separate and detached matters, are here regarded just as the more general problems are. Thus sociality is the accretion of social meaning to the psychosomatic functions; and psychological development, whether of the individual or of the species, a series of progressive changes in the total organism and its capabilities.

It is not the intent of the writer to give an exhaustive account of psychological facts. That is a task which might well terrify all but the most gifted, the most industrious, and the most macrobiotic of men. The present survey is limited to such a view of the field as can be seen from a single point of regard and can be defined by a meagre choice of empirical principles.

It is obvious—if the present account is taken to be fairly representative—that the field here surveyed is by no means a flat plain. The exposition labors over mountainous ridges, hurries across well tracked and fertile plateaus, toils in morasses, drones through arid deserts, and pauses for refresh-

PREFACE ix ment in the occasional oasis. Only the caves of the unconscious does it avoid, leaving to some modern and martial son of Aigeus the exploration of the labyrinth. The Minotaur once despatched and the caves deserted, the “abnormal” may again be found among the topographical features of the open field.

Acknowledgment is made to the following publishers for permission to use illustrations for the text: P. Blakiston’s Son & Company ; Columbia University Press; Harcourt, Brace & Company; Houghton Mifflin Company; J. B. Lippincott & Company ; Macmillan Company ; Psychological Review Company and W. B. Saunders Company.

Colleagues upon the departmental staff at the University of Illinois have greatly improved the text by criticism and suggestion. To Miss Edith Bentley and to Dr. Rufus Clarence Bentley the author is heavily indebted for their painstaking labors expended upon the manuscript and the proofs. His wife, Margaret Russell Bentley, has worked constantly with him, both through the composition and in the preparations for the press.

M. B.

URBANA, ILLINOIS

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Contents

PREFACE

Chapter I. Introduction

The Approach to oh EA Three Fundamental Attitudes The Psychosomatic Functions The Subdivisions of Psychology

Part I The Composition Of Experience

II. ANALYSIS AND THE Propucts oF ANALYSIS

The Psychologist’s Method of Analysis

Right and Wrong Procedures . es

Observation, Inspection and Experiment; Quality and Stimulus: ier:

The Products of Analysis .

III. THe Constiruents or EXPERIENCE

The Sensational Qualities . .

The Psychologist’s Use of ‘ ‘Sensation”

The Sensational Qualities in Experience Visual Qualities Auditory Qualities { Taste and Smell Qualities .

Someesthetic Qualities The Sensimaginal Qualities , The Affective Tone of Experience .

Quantitative Attributes . ; Bodily Relations . .

Relation of the Experiential Qualities ‘to "the Receptors Es ae st se Ge Visual Receptors Auditory Receptors . .

The Receptors of Taste and Smell .

Receptors for the Somesthetic Qualities The Sensimaginal and Affective Qualities xi

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Xi CHAPTER

CONTENTS

Nerves and Conduction Paths The Brain

Part II The Organization Of Experience

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

ORGANIZATION UNDER STIMULUS AND RECEPTOR

Analysis and Organization 3

The Simple Integral Forms and Their Cahditions

The Three Types of Primary Incorporation

Dependence of the Primary Incorporations upon Stimulus

Dependence of the Primary Incorporations upon the Receptor

The Place of Tendinous Strain i in the Incorporation

The Place of Affection in the Incorporation

Organization of the Primary Incorporations among Themselves bea. Ue

ORGANIZATION UNDER CENTRAL ConpiTIons: Asso- CIATION

The Secondary Incorporation

The Mixed Incorporation

Organization of the Secondary Incorgiorations among Themselves

The Conditions of Associative ie-tirmuition of Secondary Trains

ToraL ORGANIZATION UNDER EXTERNAL AND CEN-

TRAL ConpITIONS: ATTENTIONAL CLEARNESS Attention in and out of pair Clearness-Degrees Attention and Organization

ORGANIZATION WITH SUCCESSIVE MopIFICATIONS:

The Nature of Habit .

The Three Forms of Habituation Habit and Instinct

PART III THE PSYCHOSOMATIC FUNCTIONS Tue Nature or PsycHosomatic FuNcTION

Mental and Bodily Contributions to Function The Method for the Study of the Functions

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130 132 135

141 140

178 178 182 185

189 189 197

CHAPTER

IX.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

CONTENTS

Classification of the Functions . . Sy The Psychosomatic Modes of Operation

Tue Mopes or APPREHENSION: I. PERCEPTION

The Psychologist’s Way of Regarding eepotion The Perception of Objects ; 1. Are There Psychological “Diniensions” of Space? Ate age meee 2. Illusions : 3. Binocular Stetecstony 4. Tactual Perceptions Perception of Movements . .

The Perception of Materials and. of Work The Perception of Sound-Objects The Perception of the Body and of Its Ccouiitions Abstractive Perceptions spent Generalized Objects

. THE Mopes or APPREHENSION: II. MEMory

The Distinction between Memory and Learning Memory and Perception

The Backward Reference in Memories.

Conditions of the Memorial Functions

Memory and Psychoanalysis

Tue Mopes oF APPREHENSION: III. IMAGINATION

Anticipations of the Immediate Future The Imaginational Accompaniment The Detached Train é Imagination as General Reference

Tue Executive Functions: I. Action

The Psychological Aspects of Action The Simple Impulsive Actions . .. .

The Automatization of Actions . ... .

Equivocal Actions . . eorseat) & Action with Double Determination dot shts The Resolve . .. . : The Will

Tue Executive Functions: II. Emotion

Emotion and Action

The Emotive Predicament F

The Functional Treatment of Emotions

Classes and Varieties of Emotion ;: Emotion with Complete Want of Resolution Emotion with Incomplete Resolution .

Emotion Following an Automatic Determination

Xiv CONTENTS CHAPTER Emotion Resolved through Action . . .

Emotion with a Train of Active Incidents Emotively :-Toned Actions The Transformed Emotion .

Emotive Episodes and Trains Emotive Inclinations Mood .. : Need and Desire ?

XIV. THe ComprenENsSIveE Functions: UNDERSTANDING

The Difference between “Thinking Out” and “Thinking About” ape jag one

Comprehension and the Topic Language and Comprehension ag re?

Comprehension and Learning Lage. if ‘ The Place of Abstraction in Understanding The Question of an Acquisitive Function .

XV. Tue Evaporative Functions: THINKING . .

The Nature of Thinking Mind and Meaning ‘ The Intimate Relation of Thinking ‘to ‘the Other Functions P ee eA ane at S The Main Aspects of Thinking 5. anaes The Determination of Thinking Symbols Employed in Thinking The Materials of Thinking The Mental Qualities and Structures The Bodily Structures and Processes a Experimental Instances Taken from the Laboratory The Task .

The Solution .

Is the Problem Neoessat to Thinking?

Everyday Instances of Thinking Questionable Instances of Thinking +s The Labor'oi"iimaiang’ 84 Peg aay The Uses of Thinking , The Question of a Valuating Function

XVI. ANTECEDENTS OF THE FUNCTIONAL OPERATIONS

Are the Psychosomatic Functions Adequate?

Ways of Initiating the Functions :

Functional Preparation Reviewed by Modes of Operation a ip Oy on Oe

XVII. Tue Limits or PsycHosomatic FUNCTION “Capacity” and the Limit of Function . .

CONTENTS CHAPTER

The Measurement of Function The Methods of Measurement. .

The Psychophysical Metric Methods Are Mental “Processes” Measureable?

What Is Measured in Psychophysics?

The Refinements of the P-methods Uses of the P-methods . .

The Methods of Test (T- navi’ ; Underlying Principles of the T-methods The Correlation of Test Results The Significance of Correlations .

What Do the Tests Measure?

The Beginnings of the Tests The Psychology of “Types”

Tests and “Intelligence”

Alleged “Mental Functions” Teed. 7 The Proposal of “General Intelligence”

Comparison of the P-methods and the T- inatioote

Part IV The Socialization And Development Of The Psychological Organism

XVIII. Socratization; Irs Nature AND Its Forms The Socialized Individual : Socialization Is Mediated by the Psychosomatic Functions af a oe The Conditions of Sociitieation ie The Character and the Varieties of the ‘Socialized Group eS Ge eae ae Ng The Congregates The Consociate The Products of Sncialisation Conflict A wee es (| XIX. Inprvipvat DeEvELOPMENT OF THE PSYCHOSOMATIC ORGANISM 4 ‘ The Psychologist’s Use of “Development” ‘ The Development of Qualitative Variety in Experience The Development of ‘heeeation ond ‘at Piodieermatic Function Habituation Learning xvi CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE XX. RactaL DEVELOPMENT OF THE PsycHosoMaATIC Or-

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Qualitative Variety in Racial Experience . « — Integration and Psychosomatic Function . . . 521

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CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION

The Approach to Psychology

We all know that thoughts and emotions, desires and memories, somehow belong to the domain of the psychologist; just as we all know that the study of heat falls to the physicist and the explanation of the action of acid on marble to the chemist. Of course such a vague reference of obvious and familiar facts to their proper subjects of study does not imply either an exact knowledge of the facts themselves or our ability to speak the language of any one of the sciences. But we have to begin with the scraps of information already acquired if we are to progress in our serious inquiries after knowledge.

Our common experiences are continually suggesting the physical sciences, the sciences of matter and energy, of life and of the constitution of the earth; but just as much do they constantly hint at things “psychological” in the homely events of every day. When you have ridden at the wheel of a motor car you must have observed a connection between the speed of the car and your thoughts and feelings. The exhilaration of a crisp morning and of a free conscience is likely to be reflected in an open throttle and a contempt for

I curves; while baffled thinking and uncertain plans bring the car down to the pace of a snail. Decision, resolves, high moods and firm intent tell in the one direction; indecision, doubt and depression in the other. “Consciousness” or “the mind,” as we say, has obtruded. It obtrudes also when an electric sign flashes past and leaves a greenish ghost or “after image” as you drive on into the night. The same kind of hint is given with the violent expression of feeling in the grand stand under an unpopular decision, or with a quiet exhibition of sustained fortitude in crushing sorrow. Feelings seem to lie at the very heart of mind. The dentist’s office is painfully alive with “psychological” facts; the intimate roar and crunch of the drill, the sharp stab of the probe, the curious withdrawal of sights and sounds under the anesthetic, and the gradual return to “consciousness.” And less thrilling and impressive occasions have just as much their obvious “mental” aspects. You give up the quest for a forgotten name and suddenly find yourself pronouncing it without the least effort; you realize as you walk that a melody or a bit of dance music has been “running through your head”; or you learn to devote yourself to study in spite of noise and distraction. You note the lure of the brilliantly colored advertisement on the boards, the blind fury of the riotous mob, the ease of right-hand writing as compared with the awkward attempts with the left hand, the tongue’s exaggeration of the size of a dental cavity, the shifting temper of a nation under the fortunes of war, the play of animals, and the short cuts of genius. Everywhere in daily experience are hints that we move as constantly and as naturally in the realm of “the mental” as among objects of the physical order.

Out of such stuff, then, exposed in its raw state, psychology collects and selects its materials. But the materials must be refined. Merely to note such experiences as the foregoing, even though they be our very own, will no more make a psychologist than traffic in eggs will open the door to embryology. We must plainly mark the distinction between intimate acquaintance and scientific knowledge. Were intimate acquaintance a substitute for systematic and orderly knowledge, we might look for our most famous botanists in tropical jungles, for anatomists in the great meat-packing concerns, and for psychologists among the crowded tenements. More than a mass of material taken in the gross is required. Detachment is required, as well as the means for submitting the raw material to the methodical refinements of the sciences.

So it is not by chance that psychology develops, as physics, anatomy and embryology develop, in the laboratory and in the study. For here distracting interests and practical considerations drop away; the material is simplified, sorted, set into its proper context, and at last filed with other records of the science. The after image from the electric sign, for example, is here reproduced under the controlled conditions of experiment, repeated and varied at will and compared with other like phenomena. It then takes its place in the psychology of vision. So also the colored advertisement is withdrawn from the distractions of the street; it is studied as one of the means of “turning the mind” in a new direction, and thus it suggests a problem in attention. In the same way, the facts of insanity fall under the problems of the abnormal; idiocy and genius become matters for research upon capability ; the orator and his audience are transmuted into problems upon the social integration of men; the “tune in the head” turns out to be a typical bit of auditory imagery ; right-hand writing is made a study in the habituation of function, and grief takes its place among the emotions.

We see, then, that psychological materials lie all about us in the experiences of every day; but we see also that these materials are not really incorporated into psychology until they are regarded by the trained observer, withdrawn for more favorable conditions of study, and passed through the alembic of the science. Now we go on to consider how the novice in the subject may make use of his meager store of unsorted and unrelated fragments to attain the point of view and the orderly knowledge of the psychologist.

If you will reflect upon your previous use of the words “mind,” “mental,” and “psychological,” in connection with your own experiences, you will observe that the mental or psychological factors implied have been concerned, as a rule, with personal performances and attainments. You will discover that mind has appeared as an effective instrument designed to obtain some end or result. Thus we all seem to “employ our minds,” as we say, in reading books and street signs, in deciding how to spend the vacation, in trying to understand difficult lectures and textbooks, in remembering forgotten names, in finding our way in the darkness, and in holding ourselves steady under failure and discouragement. So, too, in discussing the gifts and defects of others we speak of the enfeeblement of mind, of the great mental resources of the talented, and of differences of mental ability and mental accomplishment. We take for granted the “strength of thought” and the “force of will.” Always an acting mind; always a mind at work; always a performance or accomplishment which enters into the affairs of life, bending events, with greater or less effectiveness, toward some desired end.

This is a perfectly natural and a perfectly inevitable first and informal view of mind. In a similar way do we know trees as active, growing, fruit bearing, and shade producing objects before we begin to gather our botanical knowledge. So do we have a fairly wide and varied knowledge of animals, of their habits, uses, and activities, before we enter upon our zodlogical studies; and we may be familiar with the lathe, the sewing machine, or the motor car, so far as functions and operations go, without mastering the science of mechanics or attaining to an exact knowledge of materials or of machine design. In general, let it be said that our early pre-scientific acquaintance with ourselves, as well as with the common things about us in nature and in manufacture, is chiefly an acquaintance with uses, functions, and gross operations, and is not an exact and well-ordered comprehension of the character and the properties of “mental” objects.

This difference between mere acquaintance, no matter how intimate and searching, and coherent knowledge we must not overlook, then, as we pass the threshold of psychology. The distinction is of special significance at the beginning because “mind” first presents itself to us, outside psychology, as a peculiar, personal possession; as something which each one of us must perforce know and appreciate very much better than any mere “outsider” can. Besides this personal bias regarding “our” minds we all commonly employ such phrases as “paying attention,” “exerting our wills,” “controlling our emotions,” “searching our memories,” and “directing our thoughts’—phrases which have a psychological sound and which seem to imply a fairly high sophistication regarding ourselves. As a matter of fact they usually imply no more knowledge of psychology than our glib references to a “sluggish liver,” a “touch of indigestion,” or a “twinge of rheumatism” imply accurate knowledge of the physiological disturbances which afflict our bodily interiors.

Now there arises from these sources an overpowering temptation to carry over into psychology our old conceptions and opinions of our own mental capabilities and excellencies. Regarded as knowledge these conceptions and opinions and these terms and phrases are spurious; they are not made of the true coinage of psychology. If we take them at their face value, they offer a decided hindrance to our entrance into serious study. It is like taking a wrong start at golf or making a bad beginning in music. In describing the adventures of Gargantua, when that robust student went up to Paris to study at the University, Rabelais refers to a music master, one Timotheus, who was accustomed to exact a double fee of those students who came to him from other masters, observing that, in their case, at least one half of his time and pains was spent in removing the effects of bad antecedent instruction. The case of Timotheus is appreciated by every psychologist who has helped the novitiate through his first introductory weeks of study. It will be appreciated by the beginner, too, as he discovers how many wrong impressions interfere with his intent to master a new subject.

Like many other opinions and preconceptions which we acquire uncritically and without reflection, these troublesome assumptions about the province of psychology will be abandoned only when we have come to realize the source as well as the force of our makeshift and spurious knowledge, and also when we see as clearly as we can the new direction which we are to take. If we are therefore to follow the example of Timotheus far enough to insist upon the giving up of old prejudices and the relinquishment of inappropriate points of view, we must first look behind and discover the origin of our errors. We shall thereupon find that: (1) the whole trend of human tradition has misdirected the individual seeking psychological knowledge of a coherent and scientific character; (2) the philosopher and the biologist have confused him with matters not relevant to his endeavor ; (3) language has misled him with the offer of loss and undefined terms; and, finally, (4) personal desires and imterests have turned his attention from valid and objective information towards his own private concerns and eccentricities.

1. Psychology and Magic. Since there indubitably exists something which is constantly and confidently referred to as

“mind,” it may seem strange to you that men have been slow in acquiring a straightforward and reliable account of it. The chief reason is not far to seek. The age of scientific description was preceded by unnumbered centuries of magic. Before men considered natural causes and formulated sober natural laws, they were governed by ritual and by a belief in spirits, demigods and divinities. The great men of those earlier times were the priests and the magicians. Instead of orderliness in nature men found caprice, cunning and malice. Nature was to be appeased, not understood and controlled. Gradually, in spite of magical traditions, came hints of a natural order. The storm arises—as man at last discovered—not from angry gods but from meteorological conditions, pestilence from the disregard of hygiene and not from the maledictions of an avenging spirit.

In the physical realm our own generation stands so far removed from the first conquests of science that magic there seems foreign to the present modes of thinking. To realize its ancient spell we have to search out such persistent superstitions as the bad luck of Friday, the omens of the new moon, the sinister import of the looking glass at funerals, and a vestige of the priesthood among family doctors. Concerning the magic of mind the whole case stands otherwise. There the human race at large still lingers in the twilight of credulity and superstition. There the occult is still respectable. Men who would scorn an invocation of spirits to account for the lightning and the volcano find nothing incongruous in an appeal to mystical agencies to explain the coincidental thoughts and longings of separated friends; and they accept, without understanding or criticizing them, such explanatory terms as “telepathy” and “hypnotic power.”

The case is even worse. Among the unenlightened, mind is a mysterious agent which sweeps through space without a vehicle, defies time and the laws of nature, and controls destiny. But many persons of general intelligence, as well, entertain a pre-scientific notion of mind. Several hundred university students who were recently making their first approach to psychology were asked to set down in simple language their conceptions of its nature. Three fourths of the whole number appealed to declared that they believed mind to be some sort of power, faculty, force, or directing influence which controls the lives of men. Almost half of them regarded the mind as material, a substance to be identified either with the brain and nervous system or with a peculiar and subtle inhabitant of the body; while one in five identified it with the “soul,” “personality,” or some other immaterial substance. Not a few were more vague, looking upon it as a mere receptacle or as an unknown something which was susceptible of training and development. Shreds of discarded philosophies, traditions of magical belief, expressions of a universal longing for power and influence, and unsorted scraps of physics and physiology!

2. Psychology and Traditions of Learning. Psychology has received a double heritage; the traditions of philosophy and the traditions of the sciences of life. All specialized knowledge goes back to philosophy, as it all goes back ultimately to magic. As soon as men began to elude the spell of the occult and while they were painfully trying to puzzle out nature’s actual modes of operation, they turned aside to construct a reasonable and consistent account of the whole realm of existence. ‘What does life mean?” they asked. “What is the relation of man to nature?” “What are the final constituents of all substance?” Some of the early attempts to solve these riddles of the universe are to be found in the Greek cosmogonies and in the Vedantic and other classical writings of the Far East. They have exerted a profound influence upon man, who is always reverting to these persistent and really insoluble problems. Even physics and astronomy, the oldest of the empirical sciences of nature, required hundreds of years to shake themselves free from the entanglements of philosophy as well as from the spell of magic and superstition. At last they succeeded. Our text books in these subjects are now filled with sober facts and empirical principles.