sophic methods, we can actually distinguish an old tin can from an elephant. To enjoy this fully, the reader must take it himself from the reported lecture.

"The act of recognition is an unconscious syllogistic process in the second figure of the syllogism. I perceive something scarlet in the garden. So far I recognize a host of attributes; it is a real object; the place, surroundings and color are recognized. The sensations were so familiar that the recognition was inconceivably rapid. Then comes a slower process. The scarlet is an attribute. What can the object be? I think it is a piece of red flannel. The inference comes almost to the surface of consciousness, but I have reasoned unconsciously: This object is red. A piece of flannel is red; therefore this may be a piece of red flannel. The middle term is predicate in both premises. The unknown object is red. A familiar object (flannel) is red. Hence, I recognize this as flannel. I identify the unknown object with what is familiar in my mind. But the logican will say that this reasoning is on the invalid mode of the second figure, from which you can never draw an affirmative conclusion. Precisely so, if you mean a necessary conclusion. But sense-perception uses affirmative modes of the second figure and derives probable knowledge therefrom. I make probable knowledge more certain by verifying the inference or correcting it. I go to the garden and pick up the object, and see the threads. and fiber of the wool. Or perhaps I find it was a piece of red paper. But whatever it was, at the end I can say what I have seen, only in so far as I have recognized or identified it. Recognition proceeds by the second figure, and has chiefly the non-valid modes. But it may use the valid modes, though in a still less conscious manner. For instance, I recognized that the object was not an elephant by this valid form; every elephant is larger than a tin can; this object is not larger than a tin can; therefore, this object is necessarily not an elephant; or, by this other valid form, no elephant is as small as a tomato can; this object is just the size of a tomato can; hence this object is not an elephant. Had some one told me to look out and see an elephant, my perception would unconsciously have taken one of these forms. The scarlet is recognized as such only as it is identified with a previous impression of scarlet. Here is our third surprise in psychology. Unless there were a priori idea, sense-perception could never begin. More, unless there were a priori idea, it could not begin. For there must be two recognitions before there can be a first new idea from sense-perception. The fourth surprise is that directly with the first activity of perception in the second figure of the syllogism is joined a second activity which takes place in the form of the first figure of the syllogism. As soon as I perceived the red object to be a piece of flannel, I at once reinforced my sense-perception by unlocking all my previous store of knowledge stored up under the category of red flannel. I unconsciously syllogized thus: "All red flannel has threads of warp and woof and a rough texture, caused by the coarse fibres of wool curling up stiffly; this is a piece of red flannel; hence this will be found to

have these properties. The act of recognition is a subsumption of the object under a class by use of the second figure of the syllogism.

'Now begins the syllogistic activity under the form of the third figure. There are a variety of attributes which I recognize by the activity of the perceiving mind in the form of the first figure, as it recognizes the general classes by the primary activity in the form of the second figure. These attributes are collected around the object as a centre of interest, and it is now the middle term. These give a new element of experience, thus: Major-this is a tin can; minor-it lies neglected in the garden; conclusion-tin cans get abandoned to neglect.' And so on, as to the use of the contents and the value of the can, running out into a long series of inferences."

As we have now reached the seventh heaven of Concord philosophy, and know how to distinguish an old tin can from an elephant, let us rest in peace, to meditate and enjoy its serene delights. We have had the supreme satisfaction of listening to the modern Plato, the leader at Concord. The Herald has informed us that on another day "the school listened with great satisfaction to Prof. Harris, who is constantly adding to the deep impression he has already made, and to the high opinion in which he is held as the most acute and profound thinker of the times, in his field."

Lest the reader should fail to see in the foregoing what the great contribution to philosophy is, let us look in the Open Court of Chicago, which has a most affectionate partiality for metaphysical mystery. It says this "Best contribution to philosophy" "may be summed up thus," "We can perceive nothing but what we can identify with what was familiar already." If this were true, the babe could never perceive anything, as it begins without any knowledge, and it would be impossible for us to learn anything or acquire any new ideas. This is rather an amusing discovery! but it is barely possible or conceivable that there are some old fossils whose minds are in that melancholy condition.

P. S. After a few hours of repose to recover from mental fatigue and digest the new wisdom so suddenly let loose upon mankind, we discover the new aspect of the world of (Concord) philosophy. The great question of the future will be to syllogize or not to syllogize. Is it possible to distinguish an elephant from a tin can by any other method than the syllogism? When that question is decisively settled, if it ever can be settled (for metaphysical questions generally last through the centuries) Prof. Harris will have an opportunity to win still brighter laurels, and make still greater contributions to philosophy, by finding more syllogisms. Will he not prove that mathematics is the sphere of syllogism also, for if two and two make four, does not the conception of four assume the position of the major predicate, which is the generalized idea of one to a quadruple extent, and also of twos duplicated. Thus the major predicate, that four is two twos, involves the minor that two is the half of four and consequently that twice two is four. Q. E. D. The syllogism is irresistible.

If Prof. Harris should establish the mathematical syllogism and extend its power through all the realms of mathematics, as so industrious a thinker might easily do, he will have taken a step far in advance of Plato, and justly deserve a higher rank, for Plato (see his Phædo). was terribly puzzled over the question how one and one make two. After much puzzling he decided finally that one and one became two "by participation in duality." This was the first great step to introduce philosophy into mathematics. Let Prof. Harris consummate this great work either by syllogism or by "participation."

Perhaps he may introduce us to a still greater "surprise" by showing that all metaphors and poetical figures of speech are constructed on syllogistic principles. It can be done, but we must not lift the veil of wisdom too hastily, or rush in where Concord philosophers "fear to tread." They have an endless future feast in the syllogisms, if they are faithful followers of Prof. Harris. But possibly there may be others attracted to Concord who would give the school something less dry than metaphysics, or, some other sort of metaphysics. One of their most esteemed orators made a diversion from the syllogism by presenting some other idea based on Aristotle, which ought to eclipse the syllogism, for, according to the report, he said "It is the most momentous question that can engage the human attention. It involves the reality of God, of personal existence, and freedom among men, and of immortality."

Immense it must be! Dominie Sampson would surely say "Prodigious!" An attentive study of the obscure phraseology of this philosopher enables one to discover that the great and tragical question concerns the reality of reality, or what the reality is, and whether it is real or not, and how we can find it out. The way to find out whether that which we think is, is or is not, is to go back to Aristotle, who is the only man that ever understood the is-ness of the is. As the lecturer is reported to say, "The first sign of a movement in the right direction is the serious attention now being devoted in many quarters to the writings of Aristotle, who, in this, as in many other things, will long remain the master of those that know." Evidently those that don't go to Aristotle don't know anything about life, freedom, God and immortality. How unfortunate we are, and how fortunate the professor is, must appear by his answer to the great question, reported as follows: "Prof. Davidson discussed at length the nature of phenomena, taking the underlying basis that time and space are relations of the real to the phenomenal, and nothing but relations; also that we not only have ideas of reality, but that these ideas are the realities themselves. Then the question is, if the concept of reality be reality itself, how is this related to phenomena? There is a double relation, active and passive. *** Eternal realities are known to us only as terms of phenomena. They are in ourselves, and from the exigencies of our intelligence."

Thus we understand nothing whatever exists but our own cogitations, or, as the sailor jocosely expressed it— " Tis all in my eye and after these many years we are brought back to the famous expression of the Boston Transcendentalist, "we should not say it rains,

it snows, we should say I rain, Isnow." This, gentle, patient reader, is no burlesque, that you have been reading, it is the wisdom of the Concord Symposium of professors and authors meeting near the end of the 19th century, and basking in the smiles of cultured Boston! or at least that portion which is devoted to the Bostonese idea of philosophy, and thinks the feeblest glimmer of antiquity worth more than the science of to-day. Such indeed are the sentiments of the President of Boston University. And as for the wisdom of Concord, the Open Court, which is good authority, says: "Dr. Harris and Prof. Davidson are, without doubt, the pillars of the school; but there is some difference of opinion as to which is its indispensable support." An intelligent spectator would say that more metaphysical acumen and vigor has been displayed by DR. EDWARD MONTGOMERY than by all the remainder of those engaged in the blind hunt for philosophy at Concord.

On the last day of the Symposium, July 28, the report says "The burden has fallen wholly upon Prof. Harris, and he has borne it so as to excite the wonder and admiration of his listeners. He went to the very bottom of things as far as human thought could go, and there, as he put it, was on solid rock, with no possibility of scepticism. Both his forenoon and evening lectures were masterly in their way." Exactly so; they were unsurpassed as a reproduction of the style and manner of the Aristotelian folly which held Europe fast in that wretched period called the Dark Ages, which preceded the dawn of intelligence with Galileo.

About one half of the reported lectures on Aristotle is, though cloudy, intelligible. The remainder is a fair specimen of that skimmy-dashy style of thought which glances over the surfaces of things and never reaches their substance or reality, yet boasts of its unlimited profundity because it does not know the meaning of profound. Such thinking must necessarily end in falsity and folly, of which the lecture gives many specimens, which it is worth while to quote, to show what the devotees of antiquity call philosophy — thus:

"If we cannot know the ultimate nature of being, then philosophy is impossible, for philosophy differs from other kind of knowing by seeking a first principle.' "The objects of philosophy then include those of ontology. They are first the nature of the ultimate being of the universe, the first principle, the idea of God."

This is not philosophy, but might be called theology, and not legitimate theology even, but supra-theological-for all sane theology admits that man cannot know God. It is a desperate, insane suggestion that we must know the unknowable, and that if we cannot do that we can have no philosophy. Of course men who think this way know nothing of philosophy, and are beyond the reach of

reason.

Again, "in the nature of the truly independent and true being, it sees necessary transcendence of space and time, and this is essential immortality." This is a fair specimen of the skimmy-dashy style. Immortality is not a "transcendence of space," if that means any

thing at all, but a conscious existence without end. Perhaps by "transcendence of space" he means filling all the space there is, and going considerably beyond it where there is no space.

His idea of infinity is worthy of Aristotle or Hegel, to whom, in fact, it belongs he says, "self-conditioning is the form of the whole, the form of that which is its own other.' That something should be "its own other" is just as clear as that it should be its own mother or father. Do such expressions represent any ideas, or do metaphysicians use words as a substitute for ideas-verily they do, in Hegelian metaphysics, and the same thing is done in asylums for the insane.

Again, "our knowledge of quantity is a knowledge of what is universal and necessary, and hence is not derived from experience.' If this is true of the professor, he knew all of mathematics before he opened his eyes in the cradle. Common mortals know nothing of quantity or anything else, until they have had a little experience. If we know everything that is "universal and necessary" without experience, the little babes must be very wise indeed.

Again, "causal energy is essentially a self-separation, for in order that a cause A. may produce an effect in B. outside of it, cause A. must detach or separate from itself the influence or energy which modifies B." What does the earth detach from itself when it causes a heavy body to fall? In chemical catalysis what does the second body "detach from itself" to produce change in the first, which is changed by its mere presence. The assertion is but partially true, applying only to the transfer of force when one body strikes another. Aristotle has some thoroughly absurd suggestions on the same subject which Professor H. did not reproduce.

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How does he grapple with the idea of God, which is the essence of his philosophy? Here it is: "The first principle as pure selfactivity, must necessarily have the permanent form of knowing of knowing, for this root form of self-consciousness is entirely self-related. The self sees the essential self, the self-activity is the object of self." We are instructed! God knows he knows, and that is the very essence of his divinity that is enough. In this profound expression we have the consummation of philosophy, for the purpose of his philosophy is to know God, "Nunc dimittis," we need to know nothing more, we know we know, and so we are God's. "This line of thought brought up at every step some phase of Plato and Aristotle," said the professor, and we are thankful that he did not resurrect any more of the peurilities of Athenian ignorance. "Knowing of knowing" is quite enough, which he repeats to be emphatic. "All true being is in the form of the infinite or self-related, and related to itself as the knowing of knowing. All beings that are not this perfect form of self-knowing, either potentially or actually, must be parts of a system or world order which is produced in some way by true being or self-knowing. All potential self-knowings contain within themselves the power to realize their self-knowledge, and are therefore free beings.' This is a broad hint that men are gods and lands us in that realm of folly of which Mrs. Eddy is the presiding