Creative Evolution

ave hitherto concerned us. Such is the object of the present chapter. It will afford us the opportunity of removing certain objections, of clearing up certai

ses, is limited to taking, at intervals, views that are instantaneous and by that very fact immobile of the becoming of matter. Consciousness, being in its turn formed on the intellect, sees clearly of the inner life what is already made, and only feels confusedly the making. Thus, we pluck out of duration those moments that interest us, and that we have gathered along its course. These alone we retain. And we are right in so doing, while action only is in question. But when, in speculating on the na

e in question is purely relative to the direction in which our attention is engaged, for we are immersed in realities and cannot pass out of them; only, if the present reality is not the one we are seeking, we speak of the absence of this sought-for reality wherever we find the presence of another. We thus express what we have as a function of what we want. This is quite legitimate in the sphere of action. But, whether we will or no, we keep

entirely practical. It corresponds to the disappointment of a certain expectation, and it does not denote the absence of all order, but only the presence of that order which does not offer us actual interest. So that whenever we try to deny order completely, absolutely, we find that we are leaping from one kind of order to the other indefinitely, and that the supposed suppression of the one and the other implies the presence of the two. Indeed, if we go on, and persist in shutting our eyes to this movement of the mind and all it involves, we are no longer dealing with an idea; all that is left of disord

than I ask myself why I exist; and when I take account of the intimate connection in which I stand to the rest of the universe, the difficulty is only pushed back, for I want to know why the universe exists; and if I refer the universe to a Principle immanent or transcendent that supports it or creates it, my thought rests on this principle only a few moments, for the same problem recurs, this time in its f

thing, and being has come by superaddition to it. Or, yet again, if something has always existed, nothing must always have served as its substratum or receptacle, and is therefore eternally prior. A glass may have always been full, but the liquid it contains nevertheless fills a void. In the same way, being may have always been there, but the nought

hing, I find no answer; but that a logical principle, such as A=A, should have the power of creating itself, triumphing over the nought throughout eternity, seems to me natural. A circle drawn with chalk on a blackboard is a thing which needs explanation: this entirely physical existence has not by itself wherewith to vanquish non-existence. But the "logical essence" of the circle, that is to say, the possibility of drawing it according to a certain law-in short, its definition-is a thing which appears to me eternal: it has neither place nor date; for nowhere, at no moment, has the drawing of a circle begun to be possible. Suppose, then, that the principle on which all things rest, and which all things manifest possesses an existence of the same nature as

re raised around it would become pseudo-problems. The hypothesis of an absolute that acts freely, that in an eminent sense endures, would no longer raise up intel

." To represent "Nothing," we must either imagine it or conceive it.

ousness itself. I will reduce more and more the sensations my body sends in to me: now they are almost gone; now they are gone, they have disappeared in the night where all things else have already died away. But no! At the very instant that my consciousness is extinguished, another consciousness lights up-or rather, it was already alight: it had arisen the instant before, in order to witness the extinction of the first; for the first could disappear only for another and in the presence of another. I see myself annihilated only if I have already resuscitated myself by an act which is positive, however involuntary and unconscious. So, do what I will, I am always perceiving something, either from without or from within. When I no longer know anything of external objects, it is because I have taken refuge in the consciousness that I have of myself. If I abolis

nt, at equal distance from both, in which it seems to us that we no longer perceive the one, and that we do not yet perceive the other: it is there that the image of "Nothing" is formed. In reality, we then perceive both, having reached the point where the two terms come together, and the image of Nothing, so defined, is an image full

tes, although we do not see it in imagination: it is enough that we can clearly represent the possibility of constructing it. So with the idea of the annihilation of everything. Nothing simpler, it will be said, than the procedure by which we construct the idea of it. There is, in fact, not a single object of our experience that we canno

or an opaque circle-but not a square circle, because the law of the generation of the circle excludes the possibility of defining this figure with straight lines. So my mind can represent any existing thing whatever as annihilated;-but if the annihilation of anything by the mind is an operation whose mechanism implies that it works on a part of

to speak, the void of itself. A being unendowed with memory or prevision would not use the words "void" or "nought;" he would express only what is and what is perceived; now, what is, and what is perceived, is the presence of one thing or of another, never the absence of anything. There is absence only for a being capable of remembering and expecting. He remembered an object, and perhaps expected to encounter it again; he finds another, and he expresses the disappointment of his expectation (an expectation sprung from recollection) by saying that he no longer finds anything, that he encounters "nothing." Even if he did not expect to encounter the object, it is a possible expectation of it, it is still the falsification of his eventual expectation that he expresses by saying that the object is no longer where it was. What he perceives in reality,

ppose that I sleep without dreaming or that I have ceased to exist; but at the very instant when I make this supposition, I conceive myself, I imagine myself watching over my slumber or surviving my annihilation, and I give up perceiving myself from within only by taking refuge in the perception of myself from without. That is to say that here again the full always succeeds the full, and that an intelligence that was only intelligence, that had neither regret nor desire, whose movement was governed by the movement of its object, could not even conceive an absence or a void. The conc

in short, annihilation signifies before anything else substitution, the idea of an "annihilation of everything" is as absurd as that of a square circle. The absurdity is not obvious, because there exists no particular object that cannot be supposed annihilated; then, from the fact that there is nothing to prevent each thing in turn being suppressed in thought, we conclude tha

sappearance is that of a phenomenon that is produced in space or at least in time, that consequently it still implies the calling up of an image, and that it is precisely here that we have to free ourselves from the imagination in order to appeal to the pure understanding. "Let us therefore no longer speak," it will be said, "of disappearance or annihilation; these are physical operations. Let us no longer represent the object A as annihilated or absent. Let us say simply that we think it "non-existent." To annihilate it is to act on it in time and perhaps also in

ted from the rest of things. We shall see that it carries with it, whether we will or no, all that we tried to abstract

think the object and consequently to think it existent; it is then to think that another reality, with which it is incompatible, supplants it. Only, it is useless to represent this latter reality explicitly; we are not concerned with what it is; it is enough for us to know that it drives out the object A, which alone is of interest to us. That is why we think of the expulsion rather than of the cause which expels. But this cause is none the less present to the mind; it is there in the implicit state, that which expels being inseparable from the expulsion as the hand which drives the pen is inseparable from the pen-stroke. The act by which we declare an object unreal therefore posits the existence of the real in general. In other words, to represent an object as unreal cannot consist in depriving it of every kind of existence, since the representation of an object is necessarily that of the object existing. Such an act consists simply in declaring that the existence attached

hink of anything or let us think of the totality of things, and then write in the margin of our thought the 'not,' which prescribes the rejection of what it contains: we annihilate everything mentally by the mere fact of decreeing its annihilation."-Here we have it! The very root of all the difficulties and errors with which we are confronted is to be found in the power ascribed here to negation. We represent negation as exactly symmetrical with affirmation. We imagine that negation, like affirmation, is self-sufficient. So that negation, like affirmation, would have the power of creating ideas, with this sole difference that they would be negative ideas. By affirming one thing, and then a

e of white. It is therefore, at bottom, not on the table itself that I bring this judgment to bear, but rather on the judgment that would declare the table white. I judge a judgment and not the table. The proposition, "This table is not white," implies that you might believe it white, that you did believe it such, or that I was going to believe it such. I warn you or myself that this judgment is to be replaced by another (which, it is true, I leave undete

his guard. He was affirming something: we tell him he ought to affirm something else (though without specifying the affirmation which must be substituted). There is no longer then, simply, a person and an object; there is, in face of the object, a person speaking to a person, opposing him and aiding him at the sa

the necessity of a substitution. As to what you ought to substitute for your affirmation, I tell you nothing, it is true. This may be because I do not know the color of the table; but it is also, it is indeed even more, because the white color is that alone that interests us for the moment, so that I only need to tell you that some other color will have to be substituted fo

r affirmation, whose content I do not specify, will have to be substituted for the one I find before me. Now, in neither of these two acts is there anything but affirmation. The sui generis character of negation is due to superimposing the first of these acts upon the second. It is in

ct the possible object into a real object, we shall be mistaken, and that the possible of which I am speaking is excluded from the actual reality as incompatible with it. Judgments that posit the non-existence of a thing are therefore judgments that formulate a contrast between the possible and the actual (that is, between two kinds of existence, one thought and the other found), where a person, real or imaginary, wrongly believes that a certain possible is realized. Instead of this possible, there is a reality that differs from it and rejects it: the negative judgment expresses this contrast, but it expresses the contrast in an intentionally incomplete form, because it is addressed to a person who is supposed to be interested exclusively in the possible that is indicated, and is not concerned to know by what kind of reality the possible is replaced. The expre

y the same conventional words. In both cases we can say indeed that the proposition aims at a social and pedagogical end, since the first would propagate a truth as the second would prevent an error. From this point of view, which is that of formal logic, to affirm and to deny are indeed two mutually symmetrical acts, of which the first establishes a relation of agreement and the second a relation of disagreement between a subject and an attribute. But how do we fail to see that the symmetry is altogether external and the likeness superficial? Suppose language fallen into disuse, society dissolved, every intellectual initiative, every faculty of self-reflection and of self-judgment atrophied in man: the dampness of the ground will subsist none the less, capable of inscribing itself automatically in sensation and o

e been formulated by an intelligent fish, who had never perceived anything but the wet. It would be necessary, it is true, that this fish should have risen to the distinction between the real and the possible, and that he should care to anticipate the error of his fellow-fishes, who doubtless consider as alone possible the condition of wetness in which they actually live. Keep strictly to the terms of the proposition, "The ground is not damp," and you will find that it means two things: (1) that one might believe that the ground is damp, (2) that the dampness is replaced in fact by a certain quality x. This quality is left indeterminate, either because we have no positive knowledge of it, or because it has no actual interest for the person to whom the negation is addressed. To deny, therefore, always consists in presenting in an abridged form a system of two affirmations: the one determinate, which applies to a certain possible; the other indeterminate, referring to the un

ation. Such a mind would see facts succeed facts, states succeed states, things succeed things. What it would note at each moment would be things existing, states

only note the present state of the passing reality; it will represent the passing as a change, and therefore as a contrast between what has been and what is. A

t. To represent that a thing has disappeared, it is not enough to perceive a contrast between the past and the present; it is necessary besides to turn our back

ver it. The idea arises when the phenomenon of substitution is cut in two by a mind which considers only the first half, because that alone interests it. Suppress al

been. And we must express this contrast as a function of what might have been, and not of what is; we must affirm the existence of the actual while looking only at the possible. The formula we thus obtain no longer e

t the negative form of negation benefits by the affirmation at the bottom of it. Bestriding the positive solid reality to which it is attached, this phantom objectifies itself. Thus is formed the idea of the void or of a partial nought, a thing being supposed to be replaced, not by another thing, but by a void which it leaves, that is, by the negation of itself. Now, as this operation works on anything whatever, we suppose it performed on each thing in turn, and finally on all things in block. We thus obtain

ic form to negation. The greatest philosophic difficulties arise, as we have said, from the fact that the forms of human action venture outside of their proper sphere. We are made in order to act as much as, and more than, in order to think-or rather, when we follow the bent of our nature, it is in order to act that we think. It is therefore no wonder that the habits of action give their tone to those of thought, and that our mind always perceives things in the same order in which we are accustomed to picture them when we propose to act on them. Now, it is unquestionable, as we remarked above, that every human action has its starting-point in a dissatisfaction, and thereby in a feeling of absence. We should not act if we did not set before ourselves an end, and we seek a thing only because we feel the lack of it. Our action proceeds thus from "nothing" to "something," and its very essence is to embroider "something" on the canvas of "nothing." The truth is that the "nothing" concerned here is the absence not so much of a thing as of a utility. If I bring a visitor into a room that I have not yet furnished, I say to him that "there is nothing in it." Yet I know the room is full of air; but, as we do not sit on air, the room truly contains nothing that at

And, consequently, a static conception of the real is forced on us: everything appears given once for all, in eternity. But we must accustom ourselves to think being directly, without making a detour, without first appealing to the phantom of the nought which interposes itself between it and us. We must strive to see i

e trying to approach duration: we must install ourselves within it straight away. This is what the

ess or reach it only confusedly. Let us consider a very simple act, like that of lifting the arm. Where should we be if we had to imagine beforehand all the elementary contractions and tensions this act involves, or even to perceive them, one by one, as they are accomplished? But the mind is carried immediately to the end, that is to say, to the schematic and simplified vision of the act supposed accomplished. Then, if no antagonistic idea neutralizes the effect of the first idea, the app

If matter appeared to us as a perpetual flowing, we should assign no termination to any of our actions. We should feel each of them dissolve as fast as it was accomplished, and we should not anticipate an ever-fleeting future. In order that our acti

as the second our faculty of acting. The organism thus evidences, in a visible and tangible form, the perfect accord of perception and action. So if our activity always aims at a result into which it is momentaril

cerned with mobility alone. In the smallest discernible fraction of a second, in the almost instantaneous perception of a sensible quality, there may be trillions of oscillations which repeat themselves. The permanence of a sensible quality consists in this repetition of movements, as the persistence of life consists in a series of palpitations. The primal function of perception is precisely to grasp a series of elementary changes under the form of a quality or of a simple state, by a work of condensation. The greater the power of acting bestowed upon an animal species, the more numerous, probably, are the elementary changes that its faculty of perceiving concentrates into one of its instants. And the progress must be continuous, in nature, from the beings that vibrate almost in u

se it constitutes a relatively closed system-is the living body; it is, moreover, for it that we cut out the others within the whole. Now, life is an evolution. We concentrate a period of this evolution in a stable view which we call a form, and, when the change has become considerable enough to overcome the fortunate inertia of our perception, we say that the body has changed its form. But in reality the body is changing form at every moment; or rather, there is no form, since form is immobile and the reality i

nt? We would know above all what is going on, what the movement is doing-in other words, the result obtained or the presiding intention. Examine closely what is in your mind when you speak of an action in course of accomplishment. The idea of change is there, I am willing to grant, but it is hidden in the penumbra. In the full light is the motionless plan of the act supposed accomplished. It is by this, and by this only, that the complex act is distinguished and defined. We should be very much embarrassed if we had to imagine the movements inherent in the actions of eating, drinking, fighting, etc. It is enough for us to know, i

which are the primordial elements of language. Adjectives and substantives therefore symbolize states.

these three kinds of movement themselves-qualitative, evolutionary, extensive-differ profoundly. The trick of our perception, like that of our intelligence, like that of our language, consists in extracting from these profoundly different becomings the single representation of becoming in general, undefined becoming, a mere abstraction which by itself says nothing and of which, indeed, it is very rarely that we think. To this idea, always the same, and always obscure or unconscious, we then join, in each particular case, one or several

d attitude, it reconstitutes the mobility of the regiment marching. It is true that if we had to do with photographs alone, however much we might look at them, we should never see them animated: with immobility set beside immobility, even endlessly, we could never make movement. In order that the pictures may be animated, there must be movement somewhere. The movement does indeed exist here; it is in the apparatus. It is because the film of the cinematograph unrolls, bringing in turn the different photographs of the scene to continue each other, that each actor of the scene recovers his mobility; he strings all his successive attitudes on the invisible movement of the film. The process then consists in extracting from all the movements peculiar to all the figures an impersonal movement abstract and simple, movement in general, so to speak: we put this into the apparatus, and we reconstitute the individuality of each particular movement by c

eidoscopic picture. Our activity goes from an arrangement to a rearrangement, each time no doubt giving the kaleidoscope a new shake, but not interesting itself in the shake, and seeing only the new picture. Our knowledge of the operation of nature must be exactly symme

at action may always be enlightened, intelligence must always be present in it; but intelligence, in order thus to accompany the progress of activity and ensure its direction, must begin by adopting its rhythm. Action is discontinuous, like every pulsation of life;

I may begin again as often as I will, I may set views alongside of views for ever, I shall obtain nothing else. The application of the cinematographical method therefore leads to a perpetual recommencement, during which the mind, never able to satisfy itself and never finding where to rest, persuades itself, no doubt, that it imitates by its instability the very movement of the real. But though, by straining itself to the point of giddiness, it may end by giving itself the illusion of mobility, its operation has not advanced it a step, since it remains as far as ever from its goal. In order to advance with the moving reality, you must replace yourself within it. Install yourself within change, and you will grasp at once both ch

s. The arguments of Zeno of Elea, although formulated

y at least two successive positions, unless at least two moments are allowed it. At a given moment, therefore, it is at

n, its indivisible mobility. Suppose an elastic stretched from A to B, could you divide its extension? The course of the arrow is this very extension; it is equally simple and equally undivided. It is a single and unique bound. You fix a point C in the interval passed, and say that at a certain moment the arrow was in C. If it had been there, it would have been stopped there, and you would no longer have had a flight from A to B, but two flights, one from A to C and the other from C to B, with an interval of rest. A single movement is entirely, by the hypothesis, a movement between two stops; if there are intermediate stops, it is no longer a single movement. At bottom, the illusion arises from this, that the movement, once effected, has laid along its course a motionless trajectory on which we can count as many immobilities as we will. From this we conclude that the m

ss the same fundamental absurdity. But the possibility of applying the movement to the line traversed exists only for an observer who keeping outside the movement and seeing at every instant the possibility of a stop, tries to reconstruct the real movement with these possible immobilities. The absurdity vanishes as soon as we adopt by thought the continuity of the real movement, a continuity of which every one of us is conscious whenever he lifts an arm or advances a step. We feel then indeed that the line passed over between two stops is described with a single indivis

em; but respect the natural articulations of the two courses. As long as you respect them, no difficulty will arise, because you will follow the indications of experience. But Zeno's device is to reconstruct the movement of Achilles according to a law arbitrarily chosen. Achilles with a first step is supposed to arrive at the point where the tortoise was, with a second step at the point which it has moved to while he was making

ng, which is fashioned after our habitual manner of thinking, leads us to actual logical dead-locks-dead-locks to which we allow ourselves to be led without anxiety, because we feel confusedly that we can always get out of them if we like: all that we have to do, in fact, is to give up the cinematographical habits of our intellect. When we say "The child becomes a man," let us take care not to fathom too deeply the literal meaning of the expression, or we shall find that, when we posit the subject "child," the attribute "man" does not yet apply to it, and that, when we express the attribute "man," it applies no more to the subject "child." The reality, which is the transition from childhood to manhood, has slipped between our fingers. We have only the imaginary stops "child" and "man," and we are very near to saying that one of these stops is the other, just as the arrow of Zeno is, according to that philosopher, at all the points of the course. The truth is that if language here were molded on

ing cross cuts therein in thought. The reason is that there is more in the transition than the series of states, that is to say, the possible cuts-more in the movement than the series of positions, that is to say, the possible stops. Only, the first way of looking at things is conformable to the processes of the human mind; the second requires, on the contrary, that we reverse the bent of our int

e softened down without changing the premisses, by saying that the reality changes, but that it ought not to change. Experience confronts us with becoming: that is sensible reality. But the intelligible reality, that which ought to be, is more real still, and that reality does not change. Beneath the qualitative becoming, beneath the ev

we have given above, we might, and perhaps we ought to, translate ειδο? by "view" or rather by "moment." For ειδο? is the stable view taken of the instability of things: the quality, which is a moment of becoming; the form, which is a moment of evolution; the essence, which is the mean form above and below which the other forms are arranged as alterations of the mean; finally, the intention or mental design which presides over the action being accomplished, and which i

what idea of reality the play of this mechanism leads. It is the very idea, we believe, that we find in the ancient philosophy. The main lines of the doctrine that was developed from Plato to Plotinus, passing through Aristotle (and even, in a certain measure, through the Stoics), have nothing accidental, nothing contingent, nothing that must be regarded as a philosopher's fancy. They indicate the

om the first terms speculation must take its start. But the intellect reverses the order of the two groups; and, on this point, ancient philosophy proceeds as the intellect does. It installs itself in the immutable, it posits only Ideas. Yet becoming exists: it is a fact. How, then, having posited immutability alone, shall we make change come forth fro

out indefinitely. In right, there ought to be nothing but immutable Ideas, immutably fitted to each other. In fact, matter comes to add to them its void, and thereby lets loose the universal becoming. It is an elusive nothing, that creeps between the Ideas and creates endless agitation, eternal disquiet, like a suspicion insinuated between two loving heart

into their own definition, that is to say, into the artificial reconstruction and symbolical expression which is their intellectual equivalent. They enter into eternity, if you will; but what is eternal in them is just what is unreal. On the contrary, if we treat becoming by the cinematographical method, the Forms are no longer snapshots taken of the change, they are its constitutive elements, they represent all that is positive in Becoming. Eternity no longer hovers over time, as an abstraction; it underl

alue. The same diminution of being is expressed both by extension in space and detention in time. Both of these are but the distance between what is and what ought to be. From the standpoint of ancient philosophy, space and time can be nothing but the field that an incomplete reality, or rather a reality that has gone astray from itself, needs in order to run in quest of itself. Only it must be admitted that the field is created as the hunting progresses, and that the hunting in some way deposits the field beneath it. Move an imaginary pendulum, a mere mathematical point, from its position of equilibrium: a perpetual oscillation is started, along which points are placed next to points, and moments succeed moments. The space and time which thus arise have no more "positivity" than the movement itself. They represent the remoteness of the position artificially given to the pendulum from its normal position, what it lacks in order to regain its natural stability. Bring it back to its normal position: space, time and motion shrink to a mathematical point. Just so, human reasonings are drawn out into an endless chain, but are at once swallowed up in the truth seized by intuition, for their extension in space and time is only the distance, s

or contingency and choice. Other metaphors, expressed by other words, might have arisen; an image is called up by an image, a word by a word. All these words run now one after another, seeking in vain, by themselves, to give back the simplicity of the generative idea. Our ear only hears the words: it therefore perceives only accidents. But our mind, by successive bounds, leaps from the words to the images, from the images to the original idea, and so gets back, from the perception of words-accidents called up by accidents-to the conception of the Idea that posits its own being. So the philosopher proceeds, confronted with the universe. Experience makes to pass before his eyes phenomena which run, they also, one behind another in an accidental order dete

nd set above the physical world a Form that was thus found to be the Form of Forms, the Idea of Ideas, or, to use his own words, the Thought of Thought. Such is the God of Aristotle-necessarily immutable and apart from what is happening in the world, since he is only the synthesis of all concepts in a single concept. It is true that no one of the manifold concepts could exist apart, such as it is in the divine unity: in vain should we look for the ideas of Plato within the God of Aristotle. But if only we imagine the God of Aristotle in a sort of refraction of himself, or simply inclining toward the world, at once the Platonic Ideas are seen to pour themselves out of him, as if they were involved in the unity of his essence: so rays stream out from the sun, which nevertheless did not contain them. It is probably this possibility of an outp

. Sometimes, indeed, they speak of an attraction, sometimes of an impulsion exercised by the prime mover on the whole of the world. Both views are found in Aristotle, who shows us in the movement of the universe an aspiration of things toward the divine perfection, and consequently an ascent toward God, while he describes it elsewhere as the effect of a contact of God with the first sphere and as descending, consequently, from God to things. The Alexandrians, we think, do no more than follow this double i

, of the whole interval between 10 and zero. But here our mind passes naturally from the sphere of quantity to that of quality. It seems to us that, a certain perfection being given, the whole continuity of degradations is given also between this perfection, on the one hand, and the nought, on the other hand, that we think we conceive. Let us then posit the God of Aristotle, thought of thought-that is, thought making a circle, transformin

ll see the perfection decrease, more and more, down to our sublunary world, in which the cycle of birth, growth and decay imitates and mars the original circle for the last time. So understood, the causal relation between God and the world is seen as an attraction when regarded from below, as an impulsion or a contact when regarded from above, since the first heaven, with its circular movement, is an imitation of God and all imitation is the reception of a form. Therefore, we perceive God as efficient cause or as final cause, according to the point of view. And yet neither of these two relations is the ultimate causal relation. The true relation is that which is found between the two members of an equation, when the first member is a single term and the second a sum of an endless number of terms. It is, we may say, the

ffected by thought and language to be legitimate. What can it do, except objectify the distinction with more force, push it to its extreme consequences, reduce it into a system? It will therefore construct the real, on the one hand, with definite Forms or immutable elements, and, on the other, with a principle of mobility which, being the negation of the form, will, by the hypothesis, escape all definition and be the purely indeterminate. The more it directs its attention to the forms delineated by thought and expressed by language, the more it will see them rise above the sensible and become subtilized into pure concepts, capable of entering one within the other, and even of being at last massed together into a single concept, the synthesis of all reality, the achievement of all perfection. The more, on the contrary, it descends toward the invisible source of the universal mobility, the more it will feel this mobility sink beneath it and at the same time become void, vanish into what it will call the "non-being." Finally, it will have on the one hand the system of ideas, logically co?rdinated together or concentrated into one only, on the other a quasi-nought, the Platonic "non-being" or the Aristotelian "matter."-But, having cut your cloth, you must sew it. With supra-sensible Ideas and an infra-sensible non-being, you now have to reconstruct the sensible world. You can do so only if you postulate a kind of metaphysical necessity in virtue of which the confronting of this All with this Zero is equivalent to the affirmation of all the degrees of reality that measure the interval between them-just as an undivided number, when regarded as a difference between itself and zero, is revealed as a certain sum of units, and with its own affirmation affirms all the lower numbers. That is the natural postulate. It is that also that we perceive as the base of the Greek philosophy. In order then to explain the specif

able. But an irresistible attraction brings the intellect back to its natural movement, and the metaphysic of the moderns to the general conclusions of the Greek metaphysic. We must try to make this point clear

advantage of being easily handled. But let us leave aside the means and consider only the end. What is the essential object of science? It is to enlarge our influence over things. Science may be speculative in its form, disinterested in its immediate ends; in other words we may give it as long a credit as it wants. But, however long the day of reckoning may be put off, some time or other the payment must be made. It is always then, in short, practical utility that science has in view. Even when it launches into theory, it is bound to adapt its behavior to the general form of practice. However high it may rise, it must be ready to fall back into the field of action, and at once to get on its feet. This would not be possible for it, if its rhythm

to resolve genera into laws. But we have to look at it in another aspect, which, moreover, is only a transposition, of the first. Wherein consists the difference of attitude of the two sciences toward change

rized it as a whole: it was a movement downward; it was the tendency toward a centre; it was the natural movement of a body which, separated from the earth to which it belonged, was now going to find its place again. They noted, then, the final term or culminating point (τελο? ακμη) and set it up as the essential moment: this moment, that language has retained in order to express the whole of the fact, sufficed also for science to characterize it. In the physics of Aristotle, it is by the concepts "high" and "low,"

cribing it, we are led to distinguish phases in it, we have several facts instead of a single one, several undivided periods instead of a single period; but time is always supposed to be divided into determinate periods, and the mode of division to be forced on the mind by apparent crises of the real, comparable to that of puberty, by the apparent release of a new form.-For a Kepler or a Galileo, on t

a movement by the eye and the much more complete recording of these phases by instantaneous photography. It is the same cinematographical mechanism in both cases, but it reaches a precision in the second that it cannot have in the first. Of the gallop of a horse our eye perceives chiefly a characteristic, essential or rather schematic attitude, a form that appears to radiate over a whole period and so fill up a

ng at something entirely different. The changes which are produced from one moment to another are no longer, by the hypothesis, changes of quality; they are quantitative variations, it may be of the phenomenon itself, it may be of its elementary parts. We were right then to say that modern science is distinguishable from the ancient in that it applies to magnitudes and proposes first and

circularity was sufficient to Aristotle to define the movement of the heavenly bodies. But, even with the more accurate concept of elliptical form, Kepler did not think he had acco

cover a law expressing a constant relation between magnitudes. The principle of Archimedes is a true experimental law. It takes into account three variable magnitudes: the volume of a bo

was the principle discovered by Galileo? A law which connected the space traversed by a falling body with the time occupied by the fall. Furthermore, in what did the first of the great transformations of geometry in modern times consist, if not in introducing-in a veiled form, it is true-time and movement even in the consideration of figures? For the ancients, geometry was a purely static science. Figures were given to it at once, completely finished, like the Platonic Ideas. But the essence of the Cartesian geometry (although Descartes did not give it this form) was to regard every plane curve as described by the movement of a point on a movable straight line which is displaced, parallel to itself, along the axis of the abscissae-the displacement of the

em. Each material point became a rudimentary planet, and the main question, the ideal problem whose solution would yield the key to all the others was, the positions of these elements at a particular moment being given, how to determine their relative positions at any moment. No doubt the problem cannot be put in these precise terms except in very simple cases, for a schematized reality; for we never know the respective positions of the real elements of matter, supposing there are real elements; and, even if we knew them at a given moment, the calculation of their positions at another moment would generally require a math

ts laws set forth relations between magnitudes: we must add that the magnitude to which we wish to be able to relate all others is time, and

science of matter renounces it equally. No doubt, it distinguishes as great a number of moments as we wish in the interval of time it considers. However small the intervals may be at which it stops, it authorizes us to divide them again if necessary. In contrast with ancient science, which stopped at certain so-called essential moments, it is occupied indifferently with any moment whatever. But it always considers moments,

ere no question; for there enter into the calculation only the points T1, T2, T3, ... taken on the flux, never the flux itself. We may narrow the time considered as much as we will, that is, break up at will the interval between two consecutive divisions Tn and Tn-|-1; but it is always with points, and with points only, that we are dealing. What we retain of the movement of the mobile T are positions taken on its trajectory. What we retain of all the other points of the universe are their positions on their respective trajectories. To each virtual stop of the moving body T at the points of division T1, T2, T3, ... we make correspond a virtual stop of all the other mobiles at the points where they ar

history of the world unfolded like a fan, so to speak, and the divisions T1, T2, T3, ... of the line which will be called, by definition, "the course of time." In the eyes of science nothing will have changed. But if, time thus spreading itself out in space and succession becoming juxtaposition, science has nothing to change in what it tells us, we must conclude that, in wha

physicist, since it is reduced to a certain number of units of time and the units themselves are indifferent, this duration is an absolute for my consciousness, for it coincides with a certain degree of impatience which is rigorously determined. Whence comes this determination? What is it that obliges me to wait, and to wait for a certain length of psychical duration which is forced upon me, over which I have no power? If succession, in so far as distinct from mere juxtaposition, has no real efficacy, if time is not a kind of force, why does the universe unfold its successive states with a velocity which, in regard to my consciousness, is a veritable absolute? Why with this particular velocity rather than any other? Why not with an infinite velocity? Why, in other words, is not everything given at once, as on the film of the cinematograph? The more I consider this point,

given. It is because the picture is already created, and because to obtain it requires only a work of recomposing and rearranging-a work that can be supposed going faster and faster, and even infinitely fast, up to the point of being instantaneous. But, to the artist who creates a picture by drawing it from the depths of his soul, time is no longer an accessory; it is not an interval that may be lengthened or shortened without the c

e with their essence. So of the works of nature. Their novelty arises from an internal impetus which is progress or succession, which confers on succession a peculiar virtue or which owes to succession the whole of its virtue-which, at any rate, makes succession, or continuity of interpenetration in time, irreducible to a mere instantaneous juxtaposition in space. This is why the idea of reading in a present state of the material universe the future of living forms, and of unfolding now their history yet to come, involves a veritable absurdity. But this absurdity is difficult to bring out, because our memory is accustomed to place alongside of each o

t puts on a new form and which communicates to them something of its novelty. It considers them in the abstract, such as they would be outside of the living whole, that is to say, in a time unrolled in space. It retains only the events or systems of events that can be thus isolated without being made to undergo too profound a deformation, bec

; it is the flow of time, it is the very flux of the real that we should be trying to follow. The first kind of knowledge has the advantage of enabling us to foresee the future and of making us in some measure masters of events; in return, it retains of the moving reality only eventual immobilities, that is to say, views taken of it by our mind. It symbolizes the real and transposes it into the human rather than expresses it. The other knowledge, if it is possible, is practically useless, it will not extend our empire over nature, it will even go against certain natural aspirations of the intellect; but, if it succeeds, it is reality itself that it will hold in a firm and final embrace. Not only may we thus complete the intellect and

all find that this conception of metaphys

No doubt the realization is never complete: it is this that ancient philosophy expresses by saying that we do not perceive form without matter. But if we consider the changing object at a certain essential moment, at its apogee, we may say that there it just touches its intelligible form. This intelligible form, thi

we study are the things which flow. It is true that of this flowing reality we are limited to taking instantaneous views. But, just because of this, scientific knowledge must appeal to another knowledge to complete it. While the ancient conception of scientific knowledge ended in ma

does not endure, the second bearing on duration itself. Now, it was natural to hesitate between so novel a conception of metaphysics and the traditional conception. The temptation must have been strong to repeat with the new science what had been tried on the old, to suppose our scientific knowledge of nature completed at once, to unify it entirely, and to give to this unification, as the Greeks had already done, the name of metaphysics. So, beside the new way that philosophy might have prepared, the old

ven from all eternity. But, on the other hand (and that is why the philosopher has not gone to these extreme consequences), Descartes believes in the free will of man. He superposes on the determinism of physical phenomena the indeterminism of human actions, and, consequently, on time-length a time in which there is invention, creation, true s

appeared not simply as continued, but also as continuous. The universe, regarded as a whole, would really evolve. The future would no longer be determinable by the present; at most we might say that, once realized, it can be found again in its antecedents, as the sounds of a new language can be expressed with the letters of an old alphabet if we agree to enlarge the value of the letters and to attribute to them, retro-actively, sounds which no combination of the old sounds could have produced beforehand. Finally, the mechan

y sure of its speculative impotence to renounce it in metaphysics. But ancient philosophy also influenced the choice. Artists for ever admirable, the Greeks created a type of supra-sensible truth, as of sensible beauty, whose attraction is hard

ir genius and the acquisitions of modern thought. And there are in each of them, especially in Spinoza, flashes of intuition that break through the system. But if we leave out of the two doctrines what breathes life into them, if we re

instrument of research, and are ignorant of the limits of its applicability, we should act as if its applicability were unlimited; there will always be time to abate it. But the temptation must have been great for the philosopher to hypostatize this hope, or rather this impetus, of the new science, and to convert a general rule of method into a fundamental law of things. So he transported himself at once to the limit; he supposed physics to have become complete and to embrace the whole of the sensible world. The universe became a system of points, the position of which was rigorously determined at each instant by relation to the preceding instant and theoretically calculable for any moment whatever. The result, in short, was universal mechanism. But it was

own, and gathered them up into a single concept, form of forms, idea of ideas, like the God of Aristotle. The new philosophy was going to take each of the laws which condition a becoming in relation to others and which are as the permanent

l into two halves, quantity and quality, the former being credited to the account of bodies and the latter to the account of souls. The ancients had raised no such barriers either between quality and quantity or between soul and body. For them, the mathematical concepts were concepts like the others, related to the others and fitting quite naturally into the hierarchy of the Ideas. Neither was the body then defined by geometrical extension, nor the soul by consciousness. If the φυχη of Aristotle, the entelechy of a living body, is less spiritual than our "soul," it is because his οωμα, already impregnated with the Idea, is less corporeal than our "body." The scission was not yet irremediable between the two terms. It has become so, and thence a metaphysic that aims at an abstract unity must resign itself either to comprehend in its synthesis only one half of the real, or to take advantage of the absolute heterogeneity of the two

f view, and it is natural for an imperfect mind like ours to class views, qualitatively different, according to the order and position of points of view, qualitatively identical, from which the views might have been taken. In reality the points of view do not exist, for there are only views, each given in an indivisible block and representing in its own way the whole of reality, which is God. But we need to express the plurality of the views, that are unlike each other, by the multiplicity of the points of view that are exterior to each other; and we also need to symbolize the more or less close relationship between the views by the relative situation of the points of view to one another, their nearness or their distance, that is to say, by a magnitude. That is what Leibniz means when he says that space is the order of coexistents, that the perception of extension is a confused perception (that is to say, a perception relative to an imperfect mind), and that nothing exists but monads, expressing thereby that the real Whole has no parts, but is

relations are ultimately summed up, and which is the basis of the unity of nature, cannot, therefore, be transcendent to sensible reality; it is immanent in it, and we must suppose that it is at once both in and out of time, gathered up in the unity of its substance and yet condemned to wind it off in an endless chain. Rather than formulate so appalling a contradiction, the philosophers were necessarily led to sacrifice the weaker of the two terms, and to regard the temporal aspect of things as a mere illusion. Leibniz says so in explicit terms, for he makes of time, as of space, a confused perception. While the multiplicity of his monads expresses only the diversity of views taken of the whole, the history of an isolated monad seems to be hardly anything else than the manifold views that it can take of its own substance: so that time would consist in all the points of view that each monad can assume towards itself, as space c

latter within the sensible-a science one and complete, with which any reality that the sensible may contain is believed to coincide. For both, reality as well

d. It shows us the interdependence of the mental and the physical, the necessity of a certain cerebral substratum for the psychical state-nothing more. From the fact that two things are mutually dependent, it does not follow that they are equivalent. Because a certain screw is necessary to a certain machine, because the machine works when the screw is there and stops when the screw is taken away, we do not say that the screw is the equivalent of the machine. For correspondence to be equivalence, it would be necessary that to any part of the machine a definite part of the screw should correspond-as in a literal translation in which each chapter renders a chapter, each sentence a sentence, each word a word. Now, the relation of the brain to consciousness seems to be entirely different. Not only does the hypothesis of an equivalence between the psychical state and the cerebral state imply a downright absurdity, as we have tried to prove in a former essay,[110] but the facts, examined without prejudice, certainly seem to indicate that the relation of the psychical to the physical is just that of the machine to the screw. To speak of an equivalence between the two is simply to curtai

n science turns on laws, that is, on relations. Now, a relation is a bond established by a mind between two or more terms. A relation is nothing outside of the intellect that relates. The universe, therefore, can only be a system of laws if phenomena have passed beforehand through the filter of an intellect. Of course, this intellect might be that of a being infinitely superior to man, who would found the materiality of things at the same time that he bound them together: such was the hypothesis of Leibniz and of Spinoza. But it is not necessary to go so far, and, for the effect we have here to obtain, the human intellect is enough: such is precisely the Kantian solution. Between the dogmatism of a Spinoza or a Leibniz and the criticism of Kant there is just the same distance as between "it may be maintained that-" and "it suffices that-." Kant stops this dogmatism on the incline that was making it slip too far toward the Greek metaphysics; he reduces to the strict minimum the hypothesis which is necessary in order to suppose the physics of Galileo indefinitely extens

extra-intellectual origin to the terms between which the relations are established. He affirmed, against his immediate predecessors, that knowledge is not entirely resolvable into terms of int

nsciousness, by two efforts of opposite direction, raising itself and lowering itself by turns, become able to grasp from within, and no longer perceive only from without, the two forms of reality, body and mind? Would not this twofold effort make us, as

ave pointed out to a revivified Cartesianism.

ds of the understanding and the understanding itself had to be accepted as they are, already made. Between the matter presented to our intellect and this intellect itself there was no relationship. The agreement between the two was due to the fact that intellect imposed its form on matter. So that not only was it necessary to pos

parts an equal objectivity. But suppose, on the contrary, that science is less and less objective, more and more symbolical, as it goes from the physical to the psychical, passing through the vital: then, as it is indeed necessary to perceive a thing somehow in order to symbolize it, there would be an intuition of the psychical, and more generally of the vital, which the intellect would transpose and translate, no doubt, but which would none the less transcend the intellect. There would be, in other words, a supra-intellectual intuition. If this intuition exist, a taking possession of the spirit by itself is possible, and no longer only a knowledge that is external and phenomenal. What is more, if we have an intuition of this kind (I mean an ultra-intellectual intuition) then sensuous intuition is likely to be in continuity with it through certain intermediaries, as the infra-red is continuous with the ultra-violet. Sensuous intuition itself, therefore, is promoted. It will no longer attain only the phantom of an unattainable thing-in-itself. It is (provided we bring to it certain indispensable corrections) into the absolute itself that it will introduce us. So long as it was regarded as the only material of our science, it refle

limit in the direction of which material things develop, but which they do not actually attain. Nothing could be more contrary to the letter, and perhaps also to the spirit, of the Critique of Pure Reason. No doubt, knowledge is presented to us in it as an ever-open roll, experience as a push of facts that is for ever going on. But, according to Kant, these facts are spread out o

thus found to be sensuous, by definition. But between physical existence, which is spread out in space, and non-temporal existence, which can only be a conceptual and logical existence like that of which metaphysical dogmatism speaks, is there not

ne complete Being which it is supposed to manifest, is to return to Spinozism. It is, like Leibniz and Spinoza, to deny to duration all efficient action. The post-Kantian philosophy, severe as it may have been on the mechanistic theories, accepts from mechanism the idea of a science that is one and the same for all kinds of reality. And it is nearer to mechanism than it imagines; for though, in the consideration of matter, of life and of thought, it replaces the successive degrees o

. An experience of this kind is not a non-temporal experience. It only seeks, beyond the spatialized time in which we believe we see continual rearrangements between the parts, that concrete duration in which a radical recasting of the whole is always going on. It follows the real in all its sinuosities. It does no

to suggest the idea of a reality which endures inwardly, which is duration itself. So, when a philosopher arose who announced a doctrine of evolution, in which the progress of matter toward perceptibility would be traced together with the advance of the mind toward rationality, in which the complication of correspondences between the external and the internal would be followed step by step, in which change would become the very substance of

lo! he was doing something entirely different. His doctrine bore indeed the name of evolutionism; it claimed to remou

pieces. And a child who working thus with the pieces of a puzzle-picture, and putting together unformed fragments of the picture finally obtains a pretty colored design, no doubt imagines that he has produced design and color. Yet the act of drawing and painting has nothing to do with that of putting together the fragments of a pictu

in fragments which he throws to the winds; then he "integrates" these fragments and "dissipates their movement."

est and handiest to us, could be found at the very origin of materiality! The more physics progresses, the more it shows the impossibility of representing the properties of ether or of electricity-the probable base of all bodies-on the model of the properties of the matter which we perceive. But philosophy goes back further even than the ether, a mere schematic fig

e voluntary. We must then go in quest of the fluid reality which has been precipitated in this twofold form, and which probably shares in both without being either. At the lowest degree of the animal scale, in living beings that are but an undifferentiated protoplasmic mass, the reaction to stimulus does not yet call into play one definite mechanism, as in the reflex; it has not yet choice among several definite mechanisms, as in the voluntary act; it is, then, neither voluntary nor reflex, though it heralds both. We experience in ourselves something of this true original activity when we perform semi-voluntary and semi-aut

t as the end of an evolution. But when he comes to retrace this evolution, again he integrates the evolved with the evolved-failing to see that he is thus taking useless

sect, so far as intelligent, has already something of our intellect. Each being cuts up the material world according to the lines that its action must follow: it is these lines of possible action that, by intercrossing, mark out the net of experience of which each mesh is a fact. No doubt, a town is composed exclusively of houses, and the streets of the town are only the intervals between the houses: so, we may say that nature contains only facts, and that, the facts once posited, the relations are simply the lines running between the facts. But, in a town, it is the gradual portioning of the ground into lots that has determined at once the place of the houses, their general shape, and the direction of the streets: to this portioning we must go back if we wish to understand the particular mode of subdivision that causes each house to be where it is, each street to run as it does. Now, the cardinal error of Spencer is to take experience already allotted as given, whereas the true problem is to know how the allotment was worked. I agree that the laws of thought are only the integration of relations between facts. But, when I posit the facts with the shape they have f

gy and movement themselves? The philosopher must go further than the scientist. Making a clean sweep of everything that is only an imaginative symbol, he will see the material world melt back into a simple flux, a continuity of flowing, a becoming. And he will thus be prepared to discover real duration there where it is still more useful to find it, in the realm of life and of consciousness. For, so far as inert matter is concerned, we may neglect the flowing without committing a serious error: matter, we have said, is weighted with geometry; and matter, the reality which descends, endures only by its connection with that which ascends. But life and consciousness are this very ascension. When once we have grasped them in their essence by adopting their movement, we understand how the rest of reality is derived from them. Evolution appears and, within this evolution, the progressive determination of materiali

TNO

ews that we developed at length, from 1900 to 1904, in our lectures at the Collège de France, especially in a course on the History of the Idea of

ich we give here (pp. 275-298) has appeared be

of our knowledge in general ... the peculiar function of negative propositions

e may refer to the arguments of F. Evellin, which we regard as conclusive (see Evellin, Infini et quantité, Paris, 1880, pp. 63-97; cf. Revue philosophique, vol. xi., 1881, pp. 564-568). The truth is that mathematics, as we have tried to show in a former work, deals and can deal only with lengths. It has therefore had to see

to, Timae

se in this idea, so far as spatiality is concerned (see Chapt

πυντυ γινεσθαι, ο δε τω παντα ποιειν, ω? εξι? τι?, οιον το φω?. τρο

πο?. Phys. iv. 212 a 34 το δε παν εστι μεν ω? κινησεται εστι δ' ω? ου. ω? μεν γαρ

ο? εστιν εξω του ουρανου. Phys. viii.

side those admirable but somewhat fugitive intuitions

See pa

tes, Princip

es, Principes

1897-1898, we tried to bring out these resemblances. They are numerous and im

de métaphysique et de morale, Nov. 1904, pp. 895-

N

by the T

ng a self-contradicti

9, 282, 283

No

order, 23

Diso

and fre

, 228-9, 26

of the p

, 239, 240,

ess of du

ng, xi, 47, 15

becomin

licity

37, 39, 46, 51, 163

nce in Aristotle'

114-5, 127, 169, 170, 2

ions, 55, 63, 68,

y, function of vegeta

ortoise, in Ze

heritance of, 76-9, 83-

as inadequacy of, t

lity, three classes of

tiveness of

cepts,

xiii, 5, 143-4, 1

nuity of

f, in ani

of nervous s

lity of, 9

6, 136, 141-2, 156,

t and,

of, conscio

nt of, l

of matter

nt of consc

. See Intelle

ess varies with ratio o

ng of

ant to fulne

achine for,

12, 93, 188, 189, 206

144, 145, 146-7, 159

93, 195-6,

spac

the inte

ree, 200, 207,

sfaction the star

inuous with vital

s, 128

erse factors

110, 130, 132-3, 1

ism a

See Actio

00, 202, 207-8, 22

109, 111, 113, 114, 119-2

evolved div

ent lines

7-8, 59, 70, 101, 129,

usatio

eriality and intell

ogress

inadequate in

stantives and v

and philo

of, in the ide

ought, 281-3, 28

ation,

and negation

ndividual

d substan

iop

n philosop

f probable consciousnes

ion, 113-

of the

and decrease of mutabil

ar fro

of "generality" in p

rganisms, 99,

ta, paralyzing

f imitation of the living

the ambiguity of pr

he mobility characte

ive" expenditure of energy cha

enes

idea of,

Diso

rative, and tr

hy, Achilles and

an philos

of the

(De),

sible object,

medes

, 314, 316, 321, 323, 324, 3

f Zeno,

d God, in Ar

ncient and m

and impulsi

g in, 3

isibility of

Aristotle, 32

sian geom

y in, 32

313-4, 317,

aphical na

of God's t

ric sph

ts, 32

and "proces

ensible flux, 317-8, 321, 3

reality,

of becoming by. See Deg

17-9 note,

hilosophy

f Plotinu

and acci

or for

, 317-8

317-8, 320

210 note, 3

314-20, 322, 3

ian, and ancient

e, 196-7, 322-4

η,

314-22

ility of moti

ble reali

les of Plo

Plotinus

totle's philos

astronomy

rn geome

6-7, 228-9, 232, 281-2, 3

ce, 329-30, 336,

in, 307

sity

? νοησ

ing, 3

οιητικ

being, sensible

otle, 227-8 note

210 note, 316-8, 321-

316, 323, 326 n

Alexandrian

210 no

sm in

a through matter

g of beco

y, 314, 316-8,

α,

d time,

us, 3

in modern science,

space,

in Alexandrian

, 30

nd modern, 329-31

of Aristot

119-21, 126, 129, 131-2, 13

183, 187, 212, 214, 246, 252, 25

tion

tion

183, 187, 188,

ect to brain, 1

ciousness, 139-43, 180, 18

to instruments of a

intelligence, 137-8,

6, 143, 145, 146-7, 168-

onsciousness, 109, 111, 113, 119-21, 1

pect to function,

respect to ins

mobility, 109, 110, 113

ect to nature of c

urrents of the

, 181, 184

phora

s of Kant

Sympathy, Fee

is and t

1, 134,

nsciousness contra

sia,

ial instinc

he hymenoptera and of i

tionary s

bject, in philosophy

of the knowledge

atter, to the mathe

Or

medes

Ancient Philo

, of Zeno, 30

29 note, 4

, transformati

in evolutio

ate spe

matter relative t

tion,

l time

r scientific knowl

ts, 138,

ion of the creativen

ic movement, 1

d God, in Ar

n of organ

ndivi

etween association and

Soci

and dedu

inert or

rence to ancien

atiality bathing

240, 2

tual view of m

rpenetra

efence in ev

2, 148-9, 1

tinuit

in lower an

rted extension, Tension of personality, S

inte

ulsion in Greek ph

e and su

ic acti

ent of vol

224,

vement, etc., G

7, 143-4, 174,

ct and intelligence,

ttitude of the int

, J.M.,

lligence, 152,

an, 2

eso

273, 299-304, 307-8, 313-4,

philosophy,

es's philo

philosophy,

abstract beco

nd static views

o called, 164, 247-8

cessors of

Duration, Time,

140, 142, 1

hove

old,

, 176

ons of te

ent lines

26, 31-2, 43, 1

ionist

osophy,

ico-chem

ingh

, 188, 189,

relaxation of the unex

undles of qu

ymond (

zman

ocial insti

er, 1

strating indivisibil

, 110, 179-80, 183-4, 212 note,

n man and lower anim

t, 66

eference to animal

ce, Cellul

Séquar

e development of the n

et, 2

hli,

Reepen,

ration of variation fr

Aristotle, 32

in reference to ani

ns, 1

of the relation of fu

f the function of animal organi

g "something" on th

te not of freedom b

erence to animal

nce to the function of t

e function of organisms, 1

rence to the function

243, 2

try, compared w

ism, 345,

sians

inoza,

of matter by

, characteristic of inst

8, 147, 148-9, 165, 189-90, 195-7,

f, and genesis of the i

matter and of

, 147,

l, x, xiii, 48, 165

on to each other of the matt

tion of the law o

tion in Ari

iousness and

philoso

category which does not a

osophy of I

nd adaptati

olves mech

athematical functions

t, 238,

Aristotle's

Leibniz's ph

40, 4

istotle's ph

release and

containing effe

tal order

's allegory

33, 162, 166

cial cons

olonial t

on, 16

in the,

on to the

ence to vegetable immobilit

09-10, 180-1, 183-4, 212 note, 252, 253,

, 252, 253,

pinal sys

rvous

of inducti

ous to disord

Affe

4-5, 126, 169-70, 171, 252,

determ

275, 294, 300-304, 308, 313-4

hy, 313-4, 316-7, 3

ic philo

y from wi

os,

Diso

, moral,

in, 8

6, 55, 72, 74, 98,

telligenc

lustration of evoluti

ne, in pale

unction, 107-9,

143-5, 179, 180, 2

usness, 110

lis, 1

raph, 306

character of ancie

ledge, 306, 307, 312

age, 306

329-31, 336-7, 34

iven, broken by

and phys

lectualist philos

itional method is on

s thought in Aristo

ecial evol

protoplasmic,

s and an

olution, 101-2, 128-9, 133, 138, 142, 15

special instinc

sponding to the three

0

sius

acteristic of

rganized and the un

ts, instincts

er with space as in

ntellect as in

aliti

g and wi

finition of the feeli

, instinc

theory,

, microb

tion in liz

en the without and the within give

mind, the true meth

29, 153, 161

nuous experience

y with modern, 226, 228-9, 232,

tration

terpen

ved, xii, xiii, 51, 101, 103,

nd intelligen

of Instinct a

and intelle

, 96-7, 140-3, 177, 178-9

and metap

order of mathemati

flex, insti

n, intellect

nality,

es in Aristotle'

cessory to

with the s

imals

168, 175-8, 199-200

out with i

istinguishe

grasp life

concept-making

or the v

t by which the intellect

ancient philoso

ernality, Frames, I

128-9, 133, 138, 141-2, 150-1, 166

n of special instinct, 14

and finality in t

etermination,

lurality o

on of Inf

tion, ix, 5, 144, 14

as appendage

cal difference between pos

as auxiliary t

adequacy of act to

as instrument

val between possible a

zone of possible actions s

ss and loco

lugged up by ac

orpor

s as sketch

with ratio of possibl

istinguished from the consciou

ciousness of man, 139-43, 180,

orpor

por of plants, 109, 111, 113,

f instinct and

0, 262, 263,

110, 144-5

ith universal

ciousness as deman

enetrating ma

ncy of ins

and m

form

ion o

on or choic

nt of, 180

n and freed

rom, in lower forms of li

ter, 17

nciple of evo

ished from the absence

organi

s, 131,

principle

on of ener

9-42, 150-1, 156

ufactur

stic work of i

of Kant's su

ncy, 96,

Chance the, of

process in instinct, 1

tions, Vi

8-40, 154, 162-4, 258, 302, 306-

ming, 3

ange,

lution

tensi

ative pla

vital process, 13

1-11, 29,

g substa

hic lif

eal, 302

ition with ultra

ble univ

ality of s

ocession" in Alexand

rison of the, and t

5 note,

on, law o

ween mind and matt

imult

chanism, 25

ebral m

d genesis of

matter and of i

llows from the philoso

ed psycho

epresentation a

es, the measurement o

, 103, 105, 108, 114, 128-31, 161, 163-4, 178, 200, 2

es's philo

ellect

237, 239,

the inversion

ast, 5, 20-3, 2

al orde

, 29, 36, 37, 65, 100, 104-5, 161

of free act

venti

illustration of veg

paralyzing insti

, quest o

onary rank

ian, 205, 287 n

wledge

ugh becoming by

ews of

ter by perc

tal tendency, 51,

a, 19, 1

ing (by contrast)

t, 79

of evolutionary p

tionary s

51, 185, 236, 2

antagoni

isten

ating matter,

27, 51, 2

netrating

ymbol of lif

coming by the i

ity, Snapshots in

ter by perc

r, 12

e), 18 no

5, 66, 72,

sm, 56,

e, 36

the object of

in speculat

246 n

ed by matter, 208

cending

ing powers characteristi

n, related to moral spher

tronom

refractor

ideal limit o

imals

sitive spirit

re o

cs an

psychology and m

attack in ev

tive condition of mathemati

he realm of lif

rates,

nile (La), by Met

of energy, 2

patial into th

ux in ancient philosophy, 317-9,

in the successo

ty in Greek phil

, 59 n

, 26

are,

erati

céine,

osits, emanations, issues, or aspects of

orta,

0, 334, 345,

ing,

tion

minis

tion

om, 3

etry

d,

idea or co

rminis

ism, 3

ion

n abstract time an

existence, 11, 202, 2

tion the object of intell

n the dream

on in inte

n, 76-7, 129

5, 348. See Inert matter,

nt, 133,

gress, Evoluti

n from t

ntuition in p

e real in moder

of parts in an o

stematic metaphys

om being by, in ancient philosophy, 3

or lower complication

ain animal characteristic

ty of actio

tenti

relative to a

owled

g substa

tive i

the object of

ture, 127, 12

104, 222-3, 22

er, mathematical, Or

n an invention and i

smic principle oppos

54, 89, 135, 25

ent lines

between what is and what o

icity in the dre

e ine

teristic of the int

ic of percep

ty, 203, 20

103-4, 106, 107, 109, 112, 113, 116, 119, 130, 132, 1

Complementarity, etc., Schisms i

ible, 205, 220-

n, instin

mpathy

y of extens

on of intellect, 1

, 110, 118,

r in ce

, conscious

temology contrasted with the

z and Spi

and relativi

e law of co

of animals a

of Reink

eiste

180-1, 202

n, Relaxation, Dete

axatio

ch, 4

, 107,

rt, 1

, 242

Ch.,

, 199, 201, 206, 213, 216, 240, 272, 273, 276, 298-9, 308-9, 317

teness

ductio

es's philo

g of,

ility of,

ductio

e iner

the Ideas, 316-7, 319

f, 11, 1

, Invention, Time, Unfo

ference to animal

e in conceptio

za an

n evolut

?, 3

55, 72,

e mathematical orde

ilosophy,

an, issue, aspect or deposi

thing" on the canv

nts on the canvas hand

, 26, 27, 75,

parative, and t

ic life

centre of the theory of knowled

of know

he full by means

atic philo

s practical

, 242, 243, 245, 246

vation

on of, 24

lants, released by

f Plotinus

of Dries

opy,

133, 138, 140, 142, 150, 167, 1

nstincts, 138

omenali

ents in Aristotle

leatic philo

ning of

ies and acts, the three kin

314, 317, 320, 324,

y of Ideas, 316-

a's philo

ena,

in, 3

actions

sible a

-30, 131-2, 133, 134, 136, 138-40, 141-2, 143, 161, 166, 167, 168-72, 173, 174, 175, 179, 181, 182, 185, 186, 190,

4, 169, 170, 17

gress toward

tendencies in

rminate, is action

alleys

y of each

the divergent lines

essible, 49, 50, 52

, 19, 26, 37, 46,

36, 37, 65, 100, 105, 161, 16

of, 50, 133, 174,

t by, 133,

i, 53, 54, 87, 97-101,

on, 20, 22

centre of the theory of

133, 138, 142, 150, 167, 168,

ct, 170,

Culminating points, etc.,

53, 186, 189-90, 193,

lminating points, etc., Genes

venti

264, 2

nating po

le of, is cons

he vital impetus oppose

ansfor

le, 47, 48,

3, 68, 72 note, 85, 131,

tive, and extensive m

ity, 133

of evolutionary rank, C

, x-xii, xiv

mutability of th

contrasted with psychic

ds toward ins

eans chan

of, upon not

221, 222, 226, 233

order, 221, 222, 226

of void or n

177, 197, 204, 229,

ustrating caus

r of animal energy

anizat

e of, by plants and us

, 203, 207, 211, 223, 236, 24

uity o

f, relative to

ween what is and wh

lity of,

property of mat

movement to

owled

s philosoph

in space

hy of Ideas, 31

2, 207, 209, 211,

a's philo

cendental Ae

of,

essence of being,

ry and qualitative mo

128, 133, 137, 141-2, 150-1, 167

lity

ts, 160, 168, 174, 17

property of mat

n distinction from in

, etc., Automati

rtebrate compared, 60

, 172

on. See C

wo fundament

being by not-being,

he full by th

the motionless, 272, 2

y of insti

matter upon co

f Aristotle and Gali

of material w

e object of intellec

day,

cy of nervous system over the

of torpor in

e conception

inct, 14

lustrating heredit

tain characte

rchids by insects,

ion of the intel

tion of the relation of st

hic, figure of abs

se, 40, 4

lves conception of

n Aristot

3, 58, 74, 88-

164, 177-8, 18

and int

vital, 177, 2

seeableness of

el, 7

of animal tendency

e elements, 107-9, 1

-13, 118, 1

To

or rela

e and the, of pla

tensi

108-13, 118

id anim

and human int

f life, 15

as a whole

aterial b

250, 251,

w of Zeno,

on of pers

-4, 117, 120, 12

ilure of certain

41, 149, 150, 1

verse to m

tal force, 126, 1

as, 3

, 176

28, 29, 30, 3

oreseea

53, 155, 156, 160, 164, 195-7, 222, 237, 250, 255, 3

evolved, xi, 51, 101, 1

forms of consci

and acts the three kind

orm in Aristo

ient philosoph

148, 165, 190, 195, 196, 198, 2

Co

in creati

in knowledg

view of tra

knowled

ic,

sensibi

speci

r, 12

tion of animal

, 48, 150-2, 173, 177, 197-9, 219

inert,

to reality

xiii, xiv, 46, 48, 173,

t of l

eedom into n

their unlimited appl

, 207, 208, 217, 223, 231, 237, 239, 247, 249

e as freely

by consci

stic rather than

te not of, but

onsciousness with, 1

and life,

ss of, 223

s's philoso

ent causa

of neces

of consciousn

nment of co

164, 200, 218, 231,

r in

every orga

of, into ne

o self-negatio

, 201, 202, 207

e understanding i

ponta

lligence aroun

round intellec

ion around real

n imitation of org

thinking the, b

127, 132, 140, 141, 145, 152, 153, 157, 161, 163, 164, 168, 173-5, 186-92, 199,

the function of veget

x, 12, 44, 47, 93, 161, 162

f nervous sys

106, 107, 120,

zation of energy, 93

organisms, 107, 113

n, 107-9, 114

g the, of int

ss: sketching

n the, of i

ction, of percept

, 12, 44, 46, 93, 160, 162,

nce: concept

: construction,

: division, 154

ination of action by p

e: repetition,

ce: retrospec

nnecting same with

anning the rhythm o

tactualizing al

e: unification

s system: act

0, 94, 95, 132-

tion and

ropods, vertebrat

6-10, 112, 114, 117, 12

imentation, 106, 10

: canalization of energ

arbon in, 107, 113

hyllian function, 107-9,

ctions of life: storage and

etable: accumulation

the evolutionary movement o

ence,

ents the, of co

5, 76, 86, 88-91, 93, 94, 96, 118, 1

perception the,

ism: accumulation

two: storage and expe

ogeneity of

e on metaphy

on modern sc

Galileo's phy

bodies compared with Arist

ient fishes, in reference

y, 13

ion of, to in

, to laws,

tial,

sign

of the idea of, in p

ependent on repe

from transfere

mathematical orde

ity of structure between gene

xiv, 153, 186-1

153, 186, 187, 190, 193,

owled

, 153, 186, 188, 190

he willed or

. See

is the object of

tion or lower complication of

, Relation

ency of, and v

hematic

f, to the spatial

latent, of intel

itness of,

ctual operation

duction and deduc

cending moveme

d with ancient,

l, 194

mpregnated w

sted with reasoning

ific,

sposition of, in Neo-D

ontinuity of,

rd,

rganic funct

organic fu

activi

196, 322, 325,

in Aristotle's

thought, in Aristotle

s's philoso

se in Aristotle'

the unity of natu

philosophy, 3

al matte

form, 19

s philosoph

phy. See Anci

ants, 107-9, 114,

ng ol

eation is,

ovelt

rs of life,

ty is

niverse,

, P.,

tration of hereditar

nsciousness

a habit or bent

, 78, 93, 16

characters, i

an intelli

tion in a

ntion in

edom to self-ne

ife, and between intelligence

entarity due to a common origin

blished,

l finalis

Di

g, 60

t flint, and hum

ius-vector in Ke

on, 76-83, 87, 168-9,

on of anima

79, 83, 1

oice, consciousn

cal structures on diverg

ns, 7

, 6, 15, 21, 26, 29, 36, 37,

losoph

an organ

ignation of hum

y of space

e of inte

in Gal

rating the objec

ay, 1

animal att

l brain,

, 139-43, 180, 183, 184,

ruments of acti

igence, 138, 187,

ion, relation of,

and lang

nd manufact

, 134, 137-9, 142, 14

4-

nating po

volution,

ley

individu

Aristot

on of arthropod and instin

logists,

n and insti

stinct of, 14

stincts o

nity of nature, God

s characteristic of inte

nt philosophy, 49, 31

philosophy,

philosophy,

in Desca

lism

assume the possibility of a

rgent lines of evolution, 55

on the function of p

idea in De

d from conce

ng in Greek phil

by science,

tation, 4, 33, 88-9, 101, 176, 2

he unorganiz

lligence, 305, 30

ion of the

al order by t

intelligence,

y of exte

108-13, 11

and torpid

apparent; mob

duration a

ing ca

-7, 51-5, 97-105, 110, 118-9, 126

ness of, 126,

ded with m

ssity for crea

ugh organisms, 25, 27, 79, 8

ee Impul

, is natural: the hum

al, 137-

nction of intell

intelligence

intelligence o

, 141,

d, 141,

d, 137-9,

t knowl

ect and perception

f consciousnes

, 27, 51-5, 97-105, 110, 118-9, 12

of, 126, 141

with ma

o mobility

y for creat

itself,

in evolu

d in our

rations of organisms, 25

f, 202,

raction in Greek

ding, the three k

mind by m

o representation, c

d adequate in

ting primacy of ner

erenc

of order,

atur

f free act with conc

nd intelligen

of developed ten

ariable, time

, 86, 114, 126,

dent in

ism in Des

lligence as aggregate of m

sion of

t biology, 169

enus,

philos

uition only a

iety, 2

vital impetus,

r absolute, x, 12,

, 15-23

cs tends to deny

eration of outlines, Solida

erality

he one in the

possible in

ever absolute,

le in contrast with

y of li

k of matter, 2

lity of ac

ation,

venti

e, 225

Un

of motio

n in ani

d as factors approach p

urati

ectatio

ideal limit o

asoning, "Descending" m

nitude,

ristic function of inte

pace,

he ideal limit

ix, 161,

ion, 96, 136, 141, 1

tle, 316,

174, 186, 188, 189, 204, 213, 215, 228,

Inert matter the

186, 265,

48, 149, 15

is of

neity

living matter

physical orde

neity of

, 165, 167-8, 175, 179, 181, 186, 187,

70, 31

, 94, 98, 99, 128-9, 153, 177, 186, 189,

, 254, 256, 258, 259, 261, 264,

atter, orde

pproximate but

cs and the ph

ssity,

153, 201, 207-12, 216, 226-7, 23

atter, inve

, 25, 26, 51, 179, 181,

ption, 12

, 201, 202, 205,

s of, 188, 202, 207, 2

, 189, 204-11, 214

r's philo

ia, 1

elligence i

eginning of i

n evolutionar

, possibl

, conjuga

eye from its stage

ividuat

cal explana

e functi

ed characters. See He

wledge, 14

the categori

atter. See

rous plan

131, 134, 135, 140-1, 146, 1

nct in hymenopt

and instinct

stinct with orga

of instinc

general in

e of an

f instin

stinct in, 14

inct in, 10

s as variations

opods in

e variati

intuitive act, contrasted with it

210

Symp

70, 84, 89, 199, 201-2, 207, 226, 249, 258

tion on inert m

distinguished

ells

143-5, 166, 167,

f, in evoluti

evolution, Evolu

lity of

in general,

, 116-8, 132-7, 141-3, 145, 150, 152, 15

259,267, 268,

ion, 177,

165, 168, 172-9, 18

138-40, 145, 166-8, 171-

rtain hymenoptera

nts, 1

insects, 10

owledge, 148,

ning

s, 192, 26

tion as, of co

ural; human ar

ty as instrument

ess as, of

of intelligence is to const

transforms li

nsforms matter i

s of intelligence are artifi

instruments of inst

152-7, 162, 179, 186, 187, 192, 195, 197-8, 219, 220,

imals

eption of the

93, 126, 137-45, 149-60, 162-4, 168, 17

1, 270, 290, 298, 299, 328, 336,

126-7, 152, 153, 186, 187, 189, 193,

46, 49, 51, 86, 88-91, 93, 94, 103-4, 113

185, 190-204, 207-12, 216-8, 221, 22

276, 277, 313, 330,

158-60, 258, 265, 292,

, 136, 141, 142, 152-4, 155, 160, 161, 1

0, 213, 215, 218-20, 224, 225-30, 240

, 306, 319, 321, 329, 340, 341

9, 70, 84-5, 88-9, 101, 137-8, 150-5, 1

8, 223-40, 244, 246-7, 249-51, 254, 25

337, 338, 339, 341-8, 351, 3

1, 30, 31, 34, 35, 37, 46-9, 52, 71, 74,

, 190, 193-211, 213, 216-20, 223, 224,

, 270, 271, 273, 274, 298-314, 318-22,

-61, 363,

61-2, 168, 176-7, 188, 189, 205, 207

301, 30

, 300-1, 306-7,

157-8, 159, 160-1, 162-3, 168, 173-6, 1

7-8, 306, 321, 322, 329, 333-5, 345,

9-

74-5, 176-7, 189, 202-4, 207-12, 215,

6

-2, 36, 39, 45-6, 47, 51, 16

xii, xiii, 48, 152, 177-8, 193-4,

sophy, In

tion of Descartes betwe

137-41, 150, 154-5, 161,

138, 187

s of, x,

child

sciousn

of, 130, 1

uperi

f, 136, 1

indivi

141, 142, 168-70, 173-7, 179,

philosop

aws,

tions

2, 175, 179, 181, 186, 189, 1

of, 152, 1

159-60, 274, 30

-56, 161, 162,

-xv, 137-9, 141, 150-1,

161-2, 177, 237, 251

, 175, 176,

, 157, 15

spac

t, Understan

ntrasted with the me

lity in ancient

d, 1

les of Plo

of knowled

varies with ratio of poss

ontrasted with

led order of life the ob

on, unive

cause of v

tion of "noug

tion, r?l

l final

instinct, 168

condition of knowledge of

177, 184 note, 188, 189, 201-3, 207

ty an, of positivity, 2

rse rela

of time,

what might be done cove

between sensible and u

nd, in phil

as inversion

nucleus of intellect

inct, 17

theoretical knowl

logy as reversed

th intellectual or system

, apparent vicious c

sm in Spin

ualism in Des

ousness as, and f

s of, 164,

een, and its conse

ion a

as, 102-3,

or o

ibility

a beginn

al, 142-

ne as epoch-m

as,

eablenes

nging

e

173-4, 177-8, 201, 202, 206-7, 208, 210-1, 212, 217, 218, 222, 223,

y of duration.

er, 204, 213, 215, 241,

Bo

Paul, 6

ngs,

the two kinds

n, 207-8, 33

Succ

opic vari

nomies of,

Kant's suc

ith space in Kant's phi

method of Kant's

ure reason, 205, 2

ng in Kant's s

Kant's succe

n Kant's philo

ument in Kant's

in Kant's phi

pence

r, Sensuous manifo

nism,

enesi

, 228-

n, 150, 193-4, 196,

ism of

inuity

sion

148, 194-

mal

is of

r natura

144, 166-9, 173, 1

, 179, 193-4, 196-9, 206-7, 208, 218, 23

, 342, 343, 347

ion of

internality of subject

n theoretical knowledge,

194-5, 35

xi, 48, 2

147, 148, 159-60, 163, 16

al proble

n requirements of the

93-4, 196-8,

77, 179, 197, 204-

142-6, 146,

ness of the thing-

er, 26

é 26

f, 99, 110, 118,

André,

rck,

m, 75-6,

-60, 258, 265, 293, 3

lace

gence, instinc

, 140, 145

ism of intelle

orrelati

era, 22

ius-vector in Ke

laws upon consciousness i

onal philos

ed with the laws o

sion of the nega

tical form of, 21

as, 228

instinctiv

tec, 1

, cause

sm of,

on in,

351, 3

in, 348, 3

systematization

in,

ogy in

in, 3

era, 114

Ed., 2

consciousness,

y. See

ctivity,

he realm o

, 25-6, 27, 51-5, 97-105, 110, 113, 116

4-7, 266, 27

xtensive with, 18

of the orders of

1-11, 29, 30,

61-2, 223, 230, 246,

by a curve,

yoni

, 44, 89, 16

, 153, 165,

ee, 1

, 113, 114, 117, 120, 121

alm of, 50, 51, 1

of the ine

of, by the

prolonged in

, 85, 87, 88, 127-8, 149, 195-6, 230,

ndivi

ility of,

165-8, 170, 172, 173, 175-9

, 101, 102-3, 104-5, 127, 136, 152, 160-

25-6, 257-61, 266, 270, 300-

rpenetra

177, 186, 190, 191, 196, 197, 201, 202

235, 236, 238, 239,

, 126, 127, 141

emory

, 27, 52, 179, 181, 18

to mobility,

chemistry, 31, 3

r plane

ential

d in the inert, 2

98, 99, 102, 112,

38, 140,

solar sys

of species,

ory of knowledge,

7, 28, 29, 37, 45-6, 47, 48, 52, 86,

f, 250,

wing over mat

ganism, Organization, Vital impetus,

ed o

nstinct and of i

scope of Galileo'

etus, 126, 127,

aria von,

trating failur

lor variati

onsciousness, 10

ility,

tion, ix, 44

mal

iv, 49, 103, 104-5, 136,

ry, ix, 16

6, 46-9, 89, 101, 152, 162-5, 194-201, 2

270, 313, 3

l, 161

umbe

ics, 319

ime,

igence, Understanding

ed with psychical and phys

s, x, 48,

al contras

Sigwart,

Plotinus

the attitude of

iculu

and intell

tural and ar

ement, I

or action, 2

tion approached as factors ap

n science

lution, at

183, 18

180, 181, 183, 185, 187

4-5, 185, 266

d invent

9, 143, 146, 174, 175,

uage

e (de),

ct, 137, 138, 145, 152-4, 159-6

on, 92, 93, 12

ition, 44

uction, So

inapplicable to life, x,

of individ

ultip

, J.,

n, 10

l knowl

ialis

inversion of s

rder. See Iner

See Iner

creative evolu

s, 35

human conven

me an illu

unt of action a

35, 40, 44,

of intel

n, 138,

5, 216, 218, 236,

of transfo

ral, 252, 253, 2

activity and

he e

ct as,

See Intellec

tentio

ic order, W

han, x, xiv

0, 37, 74, 88-96, 101, 102, 194-5, 218, 223

ers of the eighte

nce,

e development of the

sciousn

20, 21, 167, 16

stration of crisi

ife, uni

of larvae, 139

cs and du

gy, 177, 179,

influence

, 191-2, 26

ellect,

atter

al, 2

, 194-5, 198, 208-

192, 194, 195-6,

ikoff,

philosop

rating divergenc

al colo

dual, in phi

llect, 4

certain requirements of

, 202, 203, 205-6, 264

logical parallelism, Psych

edgwick,

characterizes animals, 109,

ness, 108, 11

4-5, 161-2, 163,

gent signs

ncy toward, 1

nts, 1

Mo

s, 60

e constructive work o

ompared with ancie

with ancient sci

lism

cient, 225-9, 231, 327-8, 3

sm of body and mind i

cal character of, 329,

with ancient, 329

leo's influen

pler's infl

tudes the obje

independent var

cule

ing animal tendency

tion i

60, 75, 77,

f Leibni

era

ism

weakness of de

, 123

L., 79

abstra

ations

characte

inematogr

uity o

cartes

sive and qualitativ

(i.e. abstr

y of, 306-7,

nct, 139-

159-60, 273, 274, 298, 317-

ation o

on along its cours

ility,

of evolution: con

s, cerebral, 25

gnon, quar

ssu

animal life,

, 103, 104, 185, 2

ital

and, 111, 11

07-10, 212, 246, 252, 256,

of the intellect, 15

unable to

126-7, 143, 144, 173-4, 176, 177, 209-

, 265, 2

s, 166

system, 110, 132

ts, 109

motion, Current, Tendency,

ic cosmic, 128-9, 135

Mutual inver

ty, abstra

202, 209

terpen

o life, x, 162,

stion of, of the

sudden, 28,

y of,

ometry, 19

t, 141, 1

knowledge,

, 161

sic, 21

6-7, 59-60, 61-5

otelian theor

n, 127-8,

relation

rence

219, 228-9, 239, 245, 264,

2, 143, 144-5, 150, 154, 155-6,

of,

diversity

0, 191, 195, 196-

cosmic,

eation, vital im

f individua

dom, 218

philoso

ction,

tter,

n, 275,

No

of mathematic

rse rela

173-4, 176-7, 209, 212, 218, 223-4,

ition of the two ultima

m, 55, 56, 8

arckism

of action, 109, 130-1, 1

e pla

f, 120-1,

d indeterm

, 164, 165, 199-200, 218,

omen

ton

ction of organisms,

ησι? of Ar

tence. S

g. See

the, 273-80, 281-3, 28

on, Pseudo

ικο? of Ar

ty. S

s the luminous, envelo

bial col

olid, bathed by a mis

entor

ing degrees of r

c of

l flig

ixation of, 107-9, 11

Zool.),

f this b

t, 146-52,

, 190-1, 199-200, 237, 250, 252, 270,

the condition of knowledge

ge, 147, 1

that of universal inter

t of science, 195-6, 220-1, 225-6, 227

e, 329, 3

lines in the real,

Lamarckian

owing.

of the intellect,

the idea of indi

Un

argument i

movements, 128-9, 175-6, 179, 186, 2

tion of the phys

instinc

nd acti

the two orders, 1

al inversion of

ncy of the two

, 103-4, 220-2,

6, 201, 202, 206-9, 211, 212, 216-8, 2

56, 257, 258, 264,

1, 217-9, 223-6, 230-3,

e, 225-6

ction, 222

, 222-7, 230, 23

d, 22

88-91, 93-4, 95, 132

tion and physic

141-2, 149, 162-3, 19

, and the inorganic,

f, 50-1, 103, 10

nct the proc

on, 123-4, 125, 1

itive, 99, 112, 1

on of org

nd the,

gence and instinct in the,

the, 162, 250,

the, 111, 145, 1

actual chemical nat

ion of parts

ism, comp

artificial inst

roperty of ev

, 93-4, 106-110, 113, 114, 117, 120, 12

1, 254, 255,

74, 75, 76-7, 86, 88-91, 93-4, 95, 96-7,

2,

similarity among organi

as,

15, 23, 26-7, 42, 149, 195-6,

netration of o

of the, 31

hy and t

of the

ion, 142, 145, 147-

on, 5-6,

e charac

6, 150, 165-7, 171-2, 1

tellec

re, 92, 93, 9

een the antagonistic cosm

otio

ception

of the wille

nesis,

association and indi

Soci

her,

telligence about a

g space and time in anci

ion of inner and ou

in ancient philosoph

on, 5, 11, 12, 93, 188, 189, 204-5, 206

114, 2

ogy, 24-5

oic er

-physiological, 180

in hymenoptera, 13

6, 108, 109,

itism

vity,

, in present, 4, 20-

m, 173

al structures in divergent l

social nature of

e function of t

n, recipro

terpen

11, 12, 93, 188, 189, 206,

ming, 17

character of, 206-

ess of, 2

metry,

llusc

anizati

n intellect

ion i

llection

ality, 204,

of, 299

cienc

an illusi

on,

, Ed.,

absolute re

ation of

tter,

t of intu

of, 199,

Boucher

us, 15

nd external

is and gro

nd problems, 17

on contrasted with scie

hy and a

ogy, 43-

erience

, 93-4, 168, 173-4, 194

ry of

onscious of it

ual min

tellec

and intuit

176-7, 191-4

191-2, 19

ct o

organi

sics, 1

hology,

175, 196-7,

, Finalism, Mechanistic philosoph

ntian p

strating "unwin

, consciousness

e nature of the intellectua

illustrating the mechanism

contrasted with logic

form artificial, 2

egative cosmic

object of intel

tion of, by

nce,

y and organic d

, 29-30, 34, 35,

t, "logic spoil

losophy, 315,

228 note, 324

ductio

leo, 35

ality of bod

ted psyc

ic, 319

physics,

tabili

s of,

d adaptation, 6

redity

ain animal chara

on the object of intellec

life in o

-39, 142-3, 144, 145-6, 147, 168, 16

of, to animals

11, 113, 120, 128-35, 14

orpor

9, 113, 114, 117,

structure in,

duatio

t in, 1

109, 111-13, 118-

lution with animal

s of all

ion of

ty of germinativ

substa

note, 316, 318, 319, 32

49, 315-6, 321,

, 314-5, 323, 324

confused, o

terpen

to perception; the sense i

reation of mat

ου?, of Ari

f ants, bees,

t societ

zois

ity, 208, 212

inversion or interruption

n consciousness, 11, 12, 96, 14

1, 189,

nce, 2

n philosoph

ivity. See Po

era

e, 142-7

life as an imm

nding acts, 179

sible a

1-5, 97-105, 110, 113, 116-8, 119, 126-7, 131-6, 140-3,

intellect and science, 137-41, 150, 193-4, 196, 197,

hed harmony

f, by past, 5, 20-3

n. See F

ervous syste

nstinct,

mbiguous forms of, 99,

n Alexandrian

daptation a

134, 138, 141-2, 173-

strating the two kind

s, coloniz

circulation

escence

on of,

the nervous sys

organisms,

ital prin

associatio

ng o

guous f

iduation,

lanation of mo

vous sy

uction

d problems, 177

a, division of

Aristo

inus, 2

twofold nature of,

inuity of,

ntrasted with logical,

of li

erted physic

tion of the phys

and deduc

of intellect, 18

osmology as r

l parallelism, 180,

ting crises in ev

utionary and exte

302-3,

s, the classes of rep

bundles

dence

ements,

ral geom

ion of, in i

is chang

c philoso

in ancient ph

in modern p

hythm

ry subst

, René,

eliocentric, in

onary, 50, 13

e of, in perc

xiv, 48, 237, 250, 251, 27

distinguished f

continuous exper

y of the,

he, in modern

intelligence, 90, 2

tlines in the, 11-

n of the, by

, ancie

ke assume possibility of a

, 198, 228-9, 230

47, 191-2

s of,

ic metaph

f, 179-80, 21

on, 11-2,

250, 251, 294,

of the intell

of the un

eedom

ancient phi

rowt

by the intelle

52, 89-90, 153, 191

in ancient p

of, 307-8,

anism, 3

t, 90, 155

eing, 276

perso

h the forms of percep

196, 198, 199, 203

philosophy, 314, 31

88-9, 93-4, 195-6, 197,

e conceptu

ble in

le in Sp

01, 206-7, 225-6, 249, 258, 273, 3

life, 7,

nscend its

and acti

erience

er, 204-

r and li

nce of, on special ci

ream, 20

eption,

, of the present in the

nd, the characteristic pow

comparison of

ction

activ

d, 173-

dea through matter

forms of percepti

and individ

of time,

e, 42

relations and laws up

, 229,

156-7, 160, 161,

istemological,

y of immo

152, 153, 187, 195-6, 197-8,

dge, 152,

ion, 226-7

the dream stat

, 207-8, 209, 210,

, 200, 207-8,

virtual ge

nextended into

ishes in c

as, of f

ecommences in the sta

s in complet

Te

se, 73, 74, 1

d generalizat

ation, 44-

ect, 156-7

, 7-8, 28-9, 3

the mathematical ord

and action, 1

lities, forms,

ciousnes

303-4, 305, 306-7,

273-80, 281-4

tion distinguished from extern

and individ

ce. See S

, of energy, 115, 116

otion in Z

n in evoluti

e function of in

logy: intuition

and animal

ler,

ion, 11-2, 127-

adopts the, o

tion, 299

ualit

universe the functi

coincide with th

anslatable into scie

arthrop

tive evolution

nes,

e, 2

), Ed.,

maculata, v

sky,

ect connecting same with

d Heymons

(De),

of distance and

dilemma of any systematic me

mitive impulsion o

ent lines

sticis

ction, 93, 19

modern, 329-3

cient and mod

try and ancient

ter of modern, 329, 330,

of a certain a

ductio

ontinuit

173-4, 176-7, 193-4, 1

luence on mod

169, 170, 17

gence, 176,

fluence on

r, 194-5,

See Mode

251, 270-1, 273, 296-8, 306-

rcepti

175-6, 196-7,

cs and reality. See

, 8-13,

30, 321-2, 323, 344-5, 347-8,

c concept

philosophical

ulae

ry, 16

, 196-7, 198, 19

s and ag

alyzing ins

itely extended by intel

's physics

t, 6

and indiv

les,

instinct

ming in the philos

perception, 2

ck, 26

g, coincidence of

56-7, 59-60, 61-2, 63,

cidence of

f, means ch

dge of

e, 15-23,

n and sp

eption. Se

16-7, 318, 321,

ultra-intell

ee of, 342-3

, 317, 319,

ity, for

illustration of mo

system. See

old, 205, 221,

n illustration of in

ski, 2

n of identical evolutio

ls, 14, 26

in plants and ani

S., 133 no

llustration of animal te

tion of, 15

ent of scie

rt, 2

re of certain species

of same species the type of g

ical causa

me is merely to count simul

evolution, 71

scious knowled

magnitude, p

ts, function of c

129-31,

ntellectual representation of

y, Cinematographic

f transition, 301-2,

nct, 101, 14

8, 140,

character of n

01, 131-2, 1

the individu

by plants, released

1-4, 246 no

life in o

ts analogous

a solid nuc

and the object of the intel

n brain and consc

f matter, 203,

perated by the u

Aristo

d consciousness

nd bod

cell

ion o

nd acti

philosoph

-1, 163, 174-5, 1

trica

ity of,

ductio

losophy, 205,

z's philo

202-13, 244, 25

Kant's philo

plicity determi

Exte

here of, bathing

of the extra

ss, 203, 207,

al space, 203

atical ord

and environment, 1

ections, 1

on a theme,

articul

of, 247,

nality, 128-9,

sil

al of evolut

yled homo

t, 140, 167

life

ithin, 223-6

-locks in, xii, 1

6, 198, 220, 225-6, 227, 251, 270

, xiv, 78-9, 153, 18

correspondence between

gony

ns and laws upon c

in, 3

in, 3

ic, in Aristotle'

yzing instin

aralyzing hym

l cor

equate and the

se,

ism, 3

nity

nsio

351

tioni

, 348, 35

e,

251, 2

210-1, 212-3, 217, 218, 219, 222-3, 237, 238, 245, 247-8,

ty of lif

Fr

echan

etable

willed o

(bio

unction of veget

g, 1, 13, 163, 24

f the intellect, 1

f becom

ny, 12

onze, parallel as e

d individu

ics

r energy by pla

nd indivisibili

ration as

nction. See Func

evolution, 55, 60, 61-2, 63, 69,

nd attrib

, albumin

ty of li

40, 142, 149, 162-3,

a's philo

substa

bs, correspond to the three c

resentation of the Nought, 28

physics,

iority, 1

10, 339, 340, 341, 3

s of Kant

ions, 28, 62

15, 24

existence upon

pon disord

Measurement of qualit

volutionary, 1

rman

nscious

of the

ural se

, as instinctive

oncept is a,

1, 88-9, 93, 195-6, 210

ledge of life

m, 176,

ntuitive knowled

nct is, 164, 16

on, Feeling,

ysics, dilemma of

ional, 191-2, 193-4, 2

te of,

f physics, Liebni

-13, 203, 214, 215,

logy with deduction an

hysico-chemist

itch, 1

gy. See

tendencies of life, 13,

es in development of

cies of life, 51, 10

sociat

89, 99, 101, 107-8, 109-10, 112, 1

ividua

y to act on in

als, 109, 110, 113, 127

sts in prese

produ

s to chan

ymbols of tend

stems, in

ssion o

property

d extensio

0-2, 207-8, 223

inversion o

199-200, 201, 20

substa

ent upon philoso

fallacie

and instin

lect, 155, 177, 179

riginal function of

, 178, 180, 184-5, 197, 2

xiii, 178

ynamics

of energy, Degr

nd antit

d from motion, 187, 2

, 147, 148, 150, 152, 158-9, 1

mind

n operated by un

elf, 205, 20

us, 3

olute, 240, 241,

, 21, 22

ions of r

, 45-6, 47,

, 17, 18, 1

ent variabl

l of, 9

ention

philosophy,

ogic,

neity, 9, 3

science 32

ce in K

ncient philoso

Dura

ntellect, 1

Impl

109, 111, 113, 114 not

illes and the

presses all perce

intelligence t

tion along its c

ental Aes

n, 32, 72, 73

ormism

pshot view of, 301-2,

d characters, 75-84, 87, 16

7, 79, 85, 87, 88, 93-4, 110, 126-7, 128

n of motor me

egenerati

sychical acti

d in intuit

ious ef

2-3, 144, 14

ge, 145

ness, two k

le, reali

uteness of, 153-4, 1

ion, ix

-xv, 49, 189, 207-

metry,

s of categori

tuitio

101, 147-8, 149, 152, 162-5, 173-4, 17

, 266, 270, 271

, 168, 179, 194-5, 19

48, 237, 250, 251, 273,

he so

ope of the,

Concept, Categories, Frames

determinate evolutio

ng caus

bleness of

ion, 6,

n, 47, 48,

venti

fe, 1

lled order

Fore

unction of the intel

f phases of

f exten

wledge

106-7, 25

tal li

as determinatio

-90, 191, 195-6, 197,

organis

228-9, 230, 321, 322,

interactio

ss coextensive wi

continui

rtes'

the idea of di

of, 10,

of, 241,

of, 342

f, in Aris

ity of,

anism,

zation o

f, 337,

sidered by sci

on of physic

the, of evol

ant, 204,

process of materiality, 24

odies, 7-8, 1

nert

s, 137-9,

n, and the organized

of the organized

nd scien

See iner

ing ca

in Greek philo

ng of inv

5, 158-9, 160, 168, 187, 195

Vanessa prorsa, t

e as an indep

dental, 55, 63-

in lizar

ation,

3-4, 72 note, 131-2, 13

ible,

as cause

ants,

kingdom.

tion expre

ntives and ad

lustration of the two

ix, 126, 130

er analyzed into

parent, of intuiti

alism, 194, 1

ecoming, 4, 90-1, 273, 2

matter, 203, 24

ality

, P.,

l acti

ssible

etry

usness compre

in Alexandrian

See Eye of

andra ma

134-6, 139, 140,

, 87, 88, 96-105, 118-9, 120,

5, 118-9, 126-7, 128, 131-2, 141-2, 14

254-5

e in, 34, 3

ality and,

and in the mathematical orde

l order, 222-3, 225, 226,

of physical ord

, 42, 43,

l and the mathematical orders

ess,

ism,

274, 275, 277-8, 281, 283-4, 2

sin

cerebral me

activity

), 24, 63

stinct in

and inte

n, 26,

nd cap

ral mecha

penetratin

, into reali

xation,

ism in dis

f, 199, 2

ngency of willed order and

ility in th

nce of seeing and

n, E.

f, 7

d states

nding to three classes of

ntelligi

conciousnes

n of ambiguity of pri

hex, paralyzing

motion

ies surrounding act

ogy,

in illustration of m