content of what is thus arranged. They organize the product of the understanding, just as the categories organize the product of sense-perception. That is, they are pure form separated from all content, relations absolutely external to what they relate.

In the beginning of our discussion of the critical philosophy, we found that the application of a priori forms of thought to content is impossible of explanation. Since the a priori form is a relationship which does not determine in any degree the terms to be related, there is no rational ground for its application to these terms, and the use of the forms becomes wholly arbitrary. From this it follows that if the ideas of reason are not constitutive of experience they cease to be even regulative.

The inherent rationalism of the ideas of reason comes out most plainly in Kant's conception of symbolic anthropomorphism. The objects to which these ideas refer, viz., a supreme being, an intelligible world, and an immaterial being, are objects which can never be realized in any experience. Reason is utterly incapable of knowing them. They must remain mere illusions. Yet even as illusions reason is forced to assume them in order to bring unity within experience. The reconciliation of the demand which reason feels for going beyond experience, with its inability to do so, is found by Kant to lie in the limitation of our judgment concerning these noumenal objects strictly to the relation which they bear to the world as we know it, without ascribing to them the possession of any qualities in themselves. Thus we may, and even must, regard the organic world as if the work of a supreme will and understanding; but in so judging the world we do not in the least assert anything concerning the nature of the supreme being. Knowledge of the relation of God to the world constitutes in no degree a knowledge of God. As Kant himself expresses it, we have in the comparison of God's relation to the world to an artisan's relation to his production, an example, not of an imperfect similarity between terms, but of a perfect similarity of relationship between terms which in themselves are utterly disparate.1 Surely this is outdoing rationalism itself.

Prolegomena, § 58.

But we cannot discuss Kant's regulative principles without reference to their function in the moral life. Indeed, it is in the fact of their common functioning in the world of conduct and in the world of thought that the contemporary pragmatist is wont to feel his closest kinship with criticism. In the realm of speculative reason, the ideas of God, the world, and the soul remain mere empty conceptions. Their objects lie beyond the reach of thought. Their only sanction lies in the constant impulse of thought to go beyond its boundaries. If this were all that could be said on their behalf, the position of the regulative ideas would be precarious indeed. But to consider only their function in theoretical knowledge is to leave out of account the most important part which they play in the life of man. For if theoretically they have no validity, practically they are necessary. Although their objects must remain altogether unknowable by speculative thought, in the moral life is found indubitable assurance of their reality. They are the postulates of practical reason, the necessary conditions for the possibility of moral conduct. Now this conception of the ideas of reason, as obtaining their ultimate sanction in the sphere of conduct, would seem to accord to practical reason a certain supremacy over speculative thought. It is in the practical life that the final solution is found of problems which prove insoluble for thought. In so far as this is true, the Kantian conception of regulative ideas doubtless does exhibit a leaning toward such a voluntarism as is often associated with pragmatism. Furthermore a certain similarity to the pragmatist theory is to be found in the very fact that the regulative principles serve to unite conduct with speculative thought. But here again we find that the resemblance to pragmatism is far less than appears at first sight, and that the half-acceptance of an instrumentalist position serves to emphasize the critical adherence to dogmatic absolutism.

In the first place, let us note that the validity which the moral consciousness furnishes to the ideas of reason does not in the least affect their function for thought; they are valid for practical

reason only. The world of moral conduct as such is a world utterly beyond the scope of thought. The very fact that the connection of theoretical and practical reason is found to lie in such transcendent ideas as God, the world, and the soul, is a denial of that intimate relationship of conceptual thought to conduct, upon which pragmatism so earnestly insists.

In the second place, we cannot refrain from pointing out the absolutism involved in Kant's conception of the regulative ideas as postulates of practical reason. It is true that their validity lies in the service that they perform; but it is an indispensable service. The validity of these concepts within the sphere of practical reason is absolute. Morality is not a developing function, the nature of which becomes modified with the modification of other activities. The whole Kantian conception of it is thoroughly rationalistic. The morality of any act is determined by the nature of the act as such, and remains unaffected by the relation which that act may have to other acts. The place of the act in the phenomenal series of conditions is utterly irrelevant to its moral value. Furthermore, its moral value remains wholly unaffected, whether such an act has ever taken place or ever will take place. In other words, moral values are absolutely independent of content on the one hand and of existence on the other.

CHAPTER II

ABSOLUTE IDEALISM

The chief enemy of dogmatism during the last hundred years has been the Hegelian philosophy. This has been the great liberator of human thought-if only, as many believe, to plunge it into a new slavery deeper than the old.

To deal in summary fashion with absolute idealism is not a task to be lightly undertaken. It has been as prolific in sects as if it were a religion—perhaps because for many it has been a religion and the sects are as radically opposed to each other as to any adversary from without. We have, indeed, always the writings of the master himself to refer to; and in comparison with these no other productions of the school are of first-class importance. But here one must strain to comprehend a mind both subtle and profound, expressing itself in a technical language of unparalleled obscurity. The danger is that one may find as many conflicting doctrines in the master as the sectarians have divided amongst themselves; or, even more, that in spite of the lessoning of a century of controversy we may be sectarians ourselves. Fortunately, however, the matters with which we have here to deal are of a very elementary character, so that it may not be impossible to interpret them in a form which will be fairly adequate and generally acceptable.

In the present chapter, we propose to discuss, first, the opposition of Hegelianism to the dogmatic logic; and, secondly, the extent to which the presuppositions of the latter may still be retained by the former, and the difficulties and uncertainties to which they may continue to give rise.

Just a word may be premised as to the attitude of absolute idealism toward empiricism. (Observe that we speak of empiricism as a philosophy, not of empirical science.) It is one of

almost entire misappreciation. This is the great defect of Hegel's own intellectual equipment, and it has very generally characterized his followers. It is true that to Hegel we owe some very incisive criticisms of the empiricist procedure; but we also owe to him a burdensome inheritance of misconception and prejudice. Of the very meaning of psychological analysis, as the English school had developed it, he had but a hazy impression. The analysis of ideas appeared to him to be nothing more or less than an enumeration of the attributes and properties of things. Least of all did he suspect the damaging inroads which the empiricist could make upon his own position. Hegel accepted without reserve the rationalistic distinction between the generalized image and the conception, and he was inclined to set down those who denied the separate existence of the latter, as no philosophers. It is true that the evolution-idea gave him a new mode of formulating the relation between image and conception. The latter is an outgrowth of the former, a higher stage of its development. But of this essentially psychological relation only a 'logical' account is given: all the stages of mental development exhibit the same content under more or less adequate forms. The intense contempt which Hegel everywhere exhibits for psychological considerations throws a curious side-light upon his own limitations.

But Hegel not only misunderstands empiricist doctrine. He is thoroughly out of sympathy with the empiricist temper. Its modesty is a perpetual affront to him. His own ideal of science is one in which facts are ultimately useful only for the illustration of principles; and a curiosity which is confined to the limits of experience, which proposes to itself nothing beyond the description and generalization of facts, appears to him to be far beneath the full dignity of man. That a philosopher should pride himself upon his self-imposed reserve, is as far from his conception of propriety, as that he should be proud of his ignorance.

In Hegel's opinion, the history of empiricism marks a distinct divergence from the forward development of philosophy—inevitable, as such divergences ever are, and in a manner justified