to the perception (because then, plainly, the conditions to which it must adapt itself being discovered, would amount to a priori elements of actual perception). This, then, is the single Kantian point of issue, and if we withdraw it we withdraw at once all. Now, there is no question but that this point is withdrawn. Let our perception be submitted as it may to sensational signs, it is quite certain that it attains at last to a knowledge of an independent external universe which is in itself a rational system for our exploitation. So far, then, it is quite certain that Kant's idealism, like all subjective idealism, of what name soever, must perish or has perished. But still it is of interest to see how, even on its own terms, the system is inadequate and fails. That is, we shall grant the new Copernican position, with all that accompanies it, and let its own principles decide. Things, then, are only our own affections illusively alienated into the world which we fancy ourselves to perceive as external, independent, and its own. Still affection, or what we call sensation, is a thing wholly of its own kind, and independent of us. We cannot prescribe it, we cannot dictate to it, we must take it as we find it, and absolutely as we find it; as such, we cannot even modify it-receive it into, or dispose it in, whatever peculiar conditions of our own we may. We can say of it, then, only that it is as it is: for, so far as depends upon us, it might be infinitely different; it brings no principle of necessity with it. But such principles are: there is a ruled and regulated context of experience. Nay, such principles must be; for, all knowledge else being contingent, there could not possibly be any ruled and regulated context anything we could call experience at all. These principles, then, are Kant's transcendental principles; or we may define them principles unavoidable in actual experience, and sufficiently verified by experience, but yet of a validity that, as universal and necessary, transcends, and cannot be derived from experience. This is a very accurate definition, and Kant thinks himself to occupy in what it indicates a position absolutely impregnable, whether as regards what is necessary or as regards what is contingent. We hold, of course, Kant to be wholly mistaken, and the two elements not to be separated in that way, the one from the other, like so much oil and water, but to be equally proper to, and inseparable from, the concrete, even as

other supposition, was forced to discover a whole system of necessity within us that should cause an objective stringing together of the subjective sensations, to add itself to these as they came into us. That system was the furnishing of self-consciousness with twelve different functions of unity, to whose action on special sensation in the elements of time and space the whole said ruled and regulated context of experience was to be attributed. And now to apply, how all that lay before Kant's mind as an answer to Hume we may probably realize in this way. The rising of the sun and the warming of a stone are simply two contingent sensations, and as such they will always be contingent; nevertheless, I view them as necessary, because, all unconsciously, I have reduced them into a form within me. This form originates within me, as I say, all unconsciously. I have a certain logical function of judgment which is called antecedent and consequent. Now, that being a priori in my mind, and finding a priori in my mind a spectrum of the succession of time, cannot help amalgamating with a certain modus of that spectrum, which modus is in strict analogy with said logical function, and must attract it. This form within me, thus instinctively and unconsciously produced, at once seizes (through analogy) on such a succession as rising sun and warming stone, and raises it into the felt necessity of the intellectual function, at the same time that its own elements, as such, can only be regarded as contingent. This is, undoubtedly, the gist of Kant's answer to Hume, and to the very quick of it. Nevertheless, it contains nothing that in the foregoing has not been met, and I am not required to repeat, whether as regards the one element or the other. I will only say this:

It is quite untrue that the schema is an a priori form there already in the mind, an a priori product, on the one hand, of an a priori category and, on the other, of a priori time. There is not any one schema under any one category due in any way or ways whatever to time at all. To talk of time even in any approach to this connection is simply Andichtung, simply false and groundless imputation. Under quantity, the schema is not any reference to time, but a glance at general objective form. Under quality, the schema is not any reference to time, but a

not any reference to time, but a glance at several general objective connections. And of all these glances there is not one that is not merely empirical. In the three categories of relation, in especial, there is simply an assumption from experience of all that in experience the system is there to explain. In fact the whole credit of this a priori system is derived from the traffic with time-a traffic that, though a constant repetition of words in cur ears, has not a vestige of foundation in fact. Only this traffic has been so deluding, and the enormous construction so imposingly laid out, with specious distinction after specious distinction, and plausible name after plausible name, that it was no wonder the brave, good, true, clear-minded, fertile-minded Kant took in, not the whole world (for we are "mostly fools "), but his own honest and perfectly transparent self. And having said this, we need not say what may be similarly said of the categories themselves, or any other of the main Kantian presuppositions. They are all alike— baseless contrivances (ingenious enough, laborious enough) towards the impossible realization of an equally baseless assumption.

KANT'S PRINCIPLES OF JUDGMENT.*

BY JOHN WATSON.

Still following the lead of formal logic, Kant, after considering the pure conceptions, goes on to consider the pure judgments of the understanding, or the fundamental propositions which formulate the unity of individual objects and the unity of their mutual connection. These judgments or propositions embody the last result of the investigation into the problem of critical philosophy in its positive aspect, viz.: How are synthetic judgments a priori possible? The materials for the final answer have already been given in the Esthetic, taken along with the Deduction and Schematism of the categories, and little remains except to show in detail how the elements implied in real knowledge are joined together

* This article forms one of the chapters in a forthcoming work on " Kant's Theory of

in a system constituting the known world. Kant, however, after his manner, goes over the old ground again, and shows, but now more in detail, on the one hand that the opposition of intelligence and nature, from which the dogmatist starts, cannot explain the actual facts of our knowledge; and, on the other hand, that we may explain knowledge when we recognize the constructive power of intelligence in nature. By a roundabout road he has come back to the problem, Hume's statement of which "roused him from his dogmatic slumber," but he has come back enriched with the spoils of a large conquest of new territory. Not only has the single question as to the application to real objects of the law of causality expanded into the comprehensive question as to the fundamental laws of nature as a whole, but the point of view from which the relations of intelligence and nature are contemplated has been completely changed. No longer does philosophy perplex itself with the irrational problem, How do we come to know objects existing as they are known beyond the confines of our knowledge? but occupies itself with the rational and soluble problem as to the elements involved in our knowledge of objects standing in the closest relations to our intelligence.

Even in our ordinary consciousness, in which we do not think of questioning the independent reality of the world as we know it, we draw a rough distinction between objects immediately perceived and the relations connecting them with each other. Things, with their distinctive properties, seem to lie spread out before us in space, and by simply opening our eyes we apparently apprehend them as they are. On the other hand, we regard these objects as continuing to exist even when we do not perceive them, and as acting and reacting upon each other. Thus, although in an unreflective or half-unconscious way, we draw a distinction in our ordinary every-day consciousness between individual objects and their relation to one another. Moreover, the separate parts of individual objects and the degrees of intensity they display we also recognize, and we count and measure them. Corresponding to this broad distinction between objects and their relations, we have respectively the mathematical and physical sciences. Mathematics, abstracting, in the first place, from objects in space and time, fixes upon the relations of space and time themselves, and,

sults thus reached to individual objects. The physical sciences, borrowing from mathematics its results, proceed to inquire into the connections of objects with each other. Thus, mathematics and physics deal respectively with the spatial and temporal relations of individual objects, and with their dynamical relations. It is at this point that critical philosophy begins its task. In the science of mathematics, on the one hand, and in the physical sciences, on the other hand, our knowledge of nature is systematized; and the problem of philosophy is to show what are the essential conditions of such systematic knowledge. Assuming the results of mathematics and physics to be true, the question still remains, whether nature, regarded either as a complex of individual objects, or as a system of laws, is independent of the activity of thought. This problem neither of those sciences has taken any notice of. The mathematician goes on making his ideal constructions without for a moment questioning the necessary truth of the conclusions he reaches, and therefore without attempting to show from the nature of knowledge how we can know them to be true. The physicist assumes that matter is real, and that it is endowed with forces of attraction and repulsion, expressible in mathematical symbols, but it is no part of his task to justify that assumption. But philosophy, aiming to explain the inner nature of knowledge, cannot evade the double problem: first, what justifies the supposition that mathematical propositions are necessarily true, and are applicable to the individual objects we perceive? and, secondly, what justifies us in assuming that there are real substances, real connections, and real coexistences? Now, looking more particularly at the nature of that which is known in relation to knowledge, we may further divide the known world, as perceived, into concrete objects and the spatial and temporal determinations of such objects. We may, in other words, ask what is implied in the ordinary experience of individual things, and in the fact that we can count or measure them; as well as what is implied in the scientific application of quantity to such objects, and in the rules of quantity considered by themselves. As a complete theory of knowledge must explain the possibility of the various kinds of knowledge which we undoubtedly possess, it must be shown how we come to know individual objects, and to apply quantitative