dforncU Hnitierattg ffithrarg Dttjaca, SS'cw Qatk BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 D^TE DUE -8© @' PRINTED IN U.S.A. Cornell University Library BF685 .D77 1917 Instinct In man: olin 3 1924 031 042 900 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis bool< is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031042900 INSTINCT IN MAN CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS C. F. CLAY, Manager LONDON Fetter Lane, E.C. 4 EDINBURGH TOO Princes Street NEW YORK ! G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS BOMBAY, CALCUTTA, MADRAS: MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd. TORONTO : J. M. DENT AND SONS, Ltd. TOKYO: THE MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA M rights reserved INSTINCT IN MAN A CONTRIBUTION TO THE PSYCHOLOGY OF EDUCATION BY JAMES DREVER, M.A., B.Sc, D.Phil. Lecturer on Education in the University of Edinburgh Cambridge : at the University Press 1 9 17 PREFATORY NOTE THE following essay was originally submitted and approved as a thesis for the Doctorate in Philosophy of the Uni- versity of Edinburgh. Certain slight changes, chiefly in the direction of compressing the historical portions, have since been introduced, but nothing material has been either added or subtracted. The essential portions of the essay are those represented by chapters v to xi. The short discussions of the 'Sentiments' and the 'Appetites' in chapters IX and xi were added mainly for the sake of completeness, and in order to show the relation of the 'instincts' to mental development and a developed mental life. Originally it was intended to treat this development more fully, but considerations of space forbade, and the dis- cussions in question represent all that is left of that part of the original design. It was also intended to deal in some detail with the investigations and theories of Jung, Freud, and their followers, at least in their educational bearings. Ulti- mately, however, it was decided to leave this topic for another occasion. Hence, in the work which foUows, only the merest suggestions of the relations of these theories to some of the more important points in the discussion will be found. The historical sketch of views on 'Instinct' in modern times, in chapters ii and iii, is largely of the nature of an Introduction, and its main purpose is to justify the general sense in which 'Instinct' is used throughout. It is possibly too long for an Introduction, as it is undoubtedly too short for a real history, and no claim to originality of views or treatment is put forward. Nevertheless it is no mere compilation. There has hitherto been no attempt, so far as the writer knows, to deal adequately ri Prefatory Note with this part of the history of psychology. Hence, though not claiming consideration as such a history, this section of the essay may at least claim to indicate the main lines upon which a real historical discussion of Instinct must proceed. The object of the essay wiU explain the reason for the selection made, as regards the works of the older psychologists to be specially emphasized. A fairly full account is given of one aspect of Malebranche's psychology, and from a point of view seldom previously taken up. There is no English translation of Malebranche's Recherche de la Virite later than 1700. Con- sequently his psychology is almost unknown in England, and seems to have been forgotten in France. This is, we believe, very unfortimate, for Malebranche must take high rank as a psychologist. The controversies regarding 'instinct,' of the later 18th century, and the older 'Vitalism' have not been considered sufi&ciently important for our present-day discus- sions of Instinct, to deserve more than passing mention. It may perhaps prevent misunderstanding if we state here, clearly and concisely, our attitude towards one important aspect of biology and its theories of the origin of Instinct. While it must be acknowledged that the controversy between Dar- winians and Lamarckians as to the transmission of acquired characteristics is by no means settled in favour of the former, yet the definite adoption of the Darwinian point of view appears to simpUfy the treatment of the psychology of Instinct, how- ever it may be as regards its biology. Consequently it has been deemed advisable to speak throughout as if the theory of natural selection were the estabhshed and orthodox biological account of the mode in which instincts have been evolved. The difficulties which this theory involves do not seem, for the present at any rate, to be psychological difficulties. If and when they do so present themselves, it may perhaps be necessary to revise and modify some portions of our treatment, but our descriptive psychology of Instinct cannot be affected. The only other point requiring to be noticed is with respect to the use made of literature, especially of foreign literature. Wherever a standard translation was available, that has been utilized, but the originals have also, in the majority of cases, Prefatory Note vii been consulted, and the originals of aU quotations from Male- branche are given in the footnotes. Further the views of no writer have been mentioned, except merely incidentally, without direct recourse being had to the writer's own original works. A full bibliography of practically all the books consulted and used has been appended. The author desires to acknowledge a Grant, not exceeding £50, in the form of a guarantee against possible loss in the publication of this work, from the Carnegie Trust for the Universities of Scotland. J. D. Edinburgh. \st July, 1917. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. Intbodtjction 1 The psychological account — the fields of biology, physio- logy, psychology — the method of psychology — behaviour of lower organisms — ^psycho-physical parallelism— physio- logical psychology — ^relation of psychology to philosophy. Definition of Instinct — objective or biological sense of word — ^the older sense— Lord Herbert of Cherbury — ^im- possibility of defining Instinct without introducing psy- chological terms— Romanes — Darwin^ — ^McDougall — ^Lloyd Morgan — ^psychology as the science of behaviour — ^prc visional definition. II. Dbscbiptivb Psychology or Natural Iscubsatio^ or Instinct kbom Hobbes to Duoald Stewart . . 21 Influences in present day psychology — inteUectualism — not characteristic of older psychologists — Hobbes — Des- cartes — Malebranche — Spinoza — Hutcheson — Hume — Adam Smith — ^Adam Ferguson — Reid — ^Dugald Stewart. III. Philosophical and Scientific Views of the Nattibb AND Meaning of Instinct 57 German thought — Leibniz — Kant — Fichte — Schopen- hauer — ^von Hartmann. Physiological psychology — Ca- banis — the phrenologists — Magendie — present day attitude of physiology. Biology and animal psychology — biological criticism of 'religious-metaphysical' view — the biological account — Lamarck and Darwin — 'lapsed intelligence' view — ^Weismann — organic selection — general result of physiology and biology. IV. The Psychological Nature of Instinct — The 'Know- ledge' OF Instinct 82 Preliminary hypothesis — the 'Ufe impulse' — analysis of instinct experience — perceptual experience — 'psychical integration' — the cognitive element in instinct-experience — Bergson's intuitive knowledge — ^identification with per- ceptual experience — ^the levels of intelligence — Bergson's citation of the hunting instinct of Ammoplula — ^no evi- dence of knowledge other thaji the knowledge of perceptual Contents ix CHAP. PAGE experience — evidence against such a view from actual mani- festations of Instinct — ^part played by smell — effect of slight modification of situation — errors and aberrations of Instinct — the opposition between Intelligence and Instinct. V. The PsyoHOLOGiOAii Nature of Instinct — Instinct AND INTELLIOENGE Ill The discussion in British Journal of Psychology — ^Lloyd Morgan — study of a moorhen — account of learning from experience — psychologically untenable — ' meaning ' — Stout — ^Instinct as a purely biological term — objections to Stout's views — ^Myers-^Instinct and Intelligence represent two ways of looking at same fact — failure to prove thesis — flnalism and mechanism — possibility of accepting Myers' conclusion while rejecting parts of his argument. VI. The Psychologioai, Nature of Instinct — ^Instinct- * Interest and 'Meamng' 130 V Where does meaning emerge? — ^Lloyd Morgan's account — primary and secondary meaning — primary meaning affective — ^Lloyd Morgan's moorhen again — 'primary tissue of meaning' — Titchener and the sensationalist view— asso- ciation experiments — the interest factor — qualities of affective experience — the emergence of emotion — 'feeling tension' — pleasure and pain — suggested emotional char- acter of pain affection — pain sensation and objective reference. VII. Classotoation op Instinctive Tendencies op Man- Instinct AND Emotion 149 Instinct in human behaviour — ^pure Instinct — Instinct and Emotion — ^Thomdike — McDougaU — characteristics of Emotion — Emotion not invariable accompaniment of instinctive activity — biological function of Emotion — Thomdike's view that aU instincts are of the nature of pure instincts not tenable — Fear — ^Anger — classification of instinctive tendencies in Man. VIII. The Speotfio 'Instinct' Tendencies .... 171 The specific Instinct tendencies — specificity — Fear — its function — Anger and the Hunting Instinct — educational significance — ^the Gregarious Instinct — educational im- portance — the Acquisitive Tendency — Courtship and the Self-tendencies — 'joy' emotions — the Parental Instinct — Curiosity — the fundamental laws of Character — ^the pure instincts. X » Contents OHAP. ' PAGE IX. Interests and Sbntimbnts 207 Shand's specialization of the word 'sentiment' — defini- tion of Sentiment — development of sentiments — ^relation of Sentiment to Instinct — ^relation to acquired interest — 'interest dispositions' — classification of sentiments — the seH-sentiment. X. The Gbnbrai. 'Instinot' Tendencies .... 219 Play — psychological nature — criticism of Karl Groos — 'make-believe' — ^the aesthetic consciousness^ — educational significance of play — Experimentation — the 'work' ten- dency — Imitation — ^Thomdike's denial of the general tendency — types of imitation — educational significance — Sympathy — sympathetic induction of emotion — ^Thorn- dike's denial of some of the facts — ^importance of sympathy in development of child — Suggestibility — conditions — 'suggestive' ideas and ideomotor action — doubts regarding claim of suggestibility to be regarded as instinctive — question left open. XI. The 'Appetitb' Tbndbncibs 246 Characteristic marks of 'appetite' as distinguished from 'instinct' — specific 'appetite' tendencies — ^Disgust — 'appe- tite' and 'desire' — general 'appetite' tendencies — acquired appetites — ^interest dispositions of the 'appetite' order. APPEITDIX I. Meaning as Affective 257 II, Dribsch's Physiological Criteeia or Reflex AcTiviTy, Instinct, and • Action ' 260 in. The 'Joy' Emotions 266 BiBUOaRAPHY 270 Index . . . 275 CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION Our purpose is to attempt to give a psychological account of Instinct in Man, and thereafter to study, still in the main from the psychological point of view, the relation of Instinct to Emotion, with special reference to human emotions, and the part which Instinct plays in that phase of human development to which we give the name Education. We must, therefore, first of all get a clear idea of what is involved in a 'psychological account.' That we shall make our aim in the present chapter, and we shall also endeavour to arrive at what might be called a working notion of Instinct from the psychological point of view, as a preliminary to the more detailed study of Instinct with the object of attaining a scientific view of it within the universe of discourse of psychology. To determine clearly what is implied in 'psychological account' is by no means an easy matter. The text-book of psychology is not always to be rehed upon as a safe guide in this respect. Owing to the pecuHar relation of psychology to the development of the "philosophy of the human mind^" the text-book of psychology often contains a good deal that is philosophy rather than psychology. On the other hand, some of the more recent developments in psychology have been in close association with developments in physiology and in ' This name is oharaoteristioally given by philosophers of the Scottish School to their philosophy, which included psychology, epistemology, and ethics, but it may with equal fitness be applied to the whole development of philosophy from Locke to MiU, exclusive of the German philosophical thought of that period. The very great importance of this "philosophy of the human mind" for the development of psychology will be indicated later. 2 Introduction [oh. biology, and, as a consequence, the more recent text-books of psychology contain a good deal that is physiology or biology rather than psychology. No doubt most of these divergences from the strict letter of the 'psychological account' could be easily and completely justified from the standpoint of the text-books in question. Nevertheless our concern at present being with the psychological as such, we cannot take any stand- point except the purely psychological. In the case of a subject hke Instinct we should naturally expect a more serious intrusion into psychology on the part of physiology or biology, than on the part of philosophy. Accord- ingly we may begin by trying to mark off the 'psychological account' from the physiological and the biological. If that is adequately done, the main difficulty will be overcome, and the lesser difficulty from the side of philosophy can be easily met. The phenomena of animal behaviour which we group to- gether imder the term 'instinctive' seem to be primarily the concern of the biologist rather than of the psychologist. In a certain sense biology may of course be regarded as inclusive of psychology, just as it is inclusive of physiology. But that is only the general, and, more especially, the theoretical sense ^f biology. The concrete and practical §ictivities of the biologist deUmit a sphere of work different from the sphere of both psychologist and physiologist, and the actual methods of biology are the methods of neither psychology nor physiology. Hence, at the present stage of development of the sciences which study living organisms and their behaviour, it will probably conduce to clearness both of thought and of exposition, as it will almost certainly conduce to the progress of the respec- tive sciences themselves, if we distinguish somewhat sharply between them.- Biology we may take as the science which studies the general phenomena of life and the behaviour of living organisms objectively. It is concerned, in the first instance, with the behaviour of hving organisms and the bearing of that behaviour on the conservation of the individual and the perpetuation of the race. It is concerned, secondly, with the conditions which determine that behaviour in their general objective aspect. i] Introduction 3 that is, so far as these conditions depend upon the general structure of the organism, its relation to its environment, the operation of hereditary transmission, spontaneous variation, and natural selection. It is concerned, in the third place, with the results which follow from that behaviour, again in their general objective aspect, that is, so far as these results deter- mine general structure, relation to environment, the operation of heredity, variation, and natural selection. Physiology is concerned primarily with the objective study of the properties, processes, and functions of living matter, so far as these determine the behaviour of living organisms, but always t^ith the aim — and this is very impQrtant — of jiltiEaaifily expressing the behaviour of Uving organisms inigiffiS_of.ghxsipal -processes and physical laws. This aim is the inevitable aim of the physiologist as such. If it were realized, then physiology would necessarily become a part of physics, and biology as a separate science would apparently disappear. So long, hoW' ever, as the phenomena of life refuse to be expressed in terms of physics, physiology as such and biology as such will exist as independent sciences working side by side. But of this we must be perfectly clear. The physiologist is quite within his rights, is in truth doing his duty as physiologist, in pushing the physical explanation of the phenomena of living matter as far as it will go. That some physiologists do not believe that the physical explanation will ever cover all the phenomena of living matter does not alter the essential aim of physiology in the least. Nor does the fact that many physiologists are also biologists, and that most biologists are physiologists, alter the relation between the sciences as such. What then is the field of psychology as such ? Psychnlogy. as such, is prjmarily concerned with the study^ of jgxpBiience. as experience, and with the interpretation jif„.ihe- behaviour sd. living organisms- in terms of experience. It finds common groimd with the other sciences in its attempting to understand behaviour, the behaviour of living organisms, but for psychology the understanding of behaviour means interpreting it in psycho- logical terms. The characteristic field of psychology is the inner world which in some way 'corresponds' to the external 1—2 4 InProduuition [CH. manifestations of activity, which we term behaviour. This field cannot be studied objectively, in the sense in which we speak of objective methods of study as regards physiology. Hence, while both physiologist and psychologist may attempt to explain the same facts of behaviour, the two explanations must necessarily be in very different terms. This peculiarity of psychology — for this characteristic marks it ofE from all the physical and natural sciences — is at once its strength and its weakness. It is the strength of psychology, because the psychologist has a more direct relation to his subject matter in his own experience than physicist, physiologist, or biologist can have to his. It is the weakness of psychology because this direct relation is hmited to the psychologist's own individual experience, and aU knowledge of the experience of other persons and other Uving organisms is indirect, depending upon inference which becomes less and less reliable the greater the interval, in experience and possibilities of experience, that separates the psychologist from the living organism whose behaviour he seeks to interpret. This weakness places psychology in a very doubtful position, when compared with the natural and physical sciences, and it must be conceded that, where an objective explanation is possible and attainable, and where it is at the same time adequate, it will always, and rightly, have the preference. There is all the more reason in this for the psychologist to assert the rights of his science in its own proper field, if he puts forward any serious claim for the recognition of psychology as a science. The strength of the psychologist's position, we have said, arises from the fact that he knows his subject matter directly, as far as his own experience is concerned. On the one hand, this fact impUes a quite unique command over the organon of interpretation which he employs. On the other hand, if rightly regarded, this direct knowledge of experience entitles the psychologist to assert the independence of his science, no matter how far physiology may push its physical explanation. His explanation is in terms of experience, in psychical terms, and as such lies beyond the reach of any physical explanation. For consider physiology as so advanced as to enable an individual i] Introduction 5 to observe the physical processes taking place in his own brain, which correspond to the experiences he is having^. Obviously there will still be a psychical series as well as a physical series, and the impossibility of the two series coinciding wiU be more apparent than ever. This might not be very significant for the ultimate scientific explanation of things, were it not that the psychologist finds in the psychical series important factors, which have, and can have, no analogue in the physical series, as, for example, con- scious purpose. It may be argued, therefore, that psychology will always preserve biology from being swallowed up by physiology. Further it must be maintained that it is the duty of the psychologist, as of the physiologist in his case, to push the psychical explanation as far as it will go, in the explana- tion of behaviour not fully and adequately explained by the physiologist in physical terms. This does not appear to have been sufficiently emphasized in the past, but recent work in biology, like that of Jennings^ in the study of the behaviour of lower organisms, seems to indicate the possibiUty of an increased recognition of the psychological explanation in the future. In any case there is no mistaking the duty of the psychologist as a psychologist. This is a matter of such fundamental importance for psychology as a science, that we may be excused for dwelling on it for a httle, and trying to see to what conclusions our principle will lead us. With the development of the sciences in question-one of two ultimate conditions will come to prevail. There are only the two alternatives. Either the physical explanation of the physiologist will stop at a point, at which the psychical explanation of the psychologist begins, the fields being divided, as it were, by a knife-edge, and biology having, as far as the behaviour of Uving organisms is concerned, no longer an independent field, that is a field that has not been invaded and subdued by either physiologist or psychologist; ^ Cf. Verwom's account of Du Bois Reymond's 'astronomical knowledge of the brain' in Allgemeine Physiologie, p. 32, 1903. * See Contributions to the Stvdy of the Behaviour of Lower Organisms. Carnegie Institution of Washington, Publication No. 16. Also MoDougall, Body and Mind, chap. xix. 6 Introduction [OH. or there will be intermediate between the points at which the respective explanations stop a field of vital phenomena, which will belong to the biologist as such by right of occupation, and, by right of conquest, to neither physiologist nor psychologist. If we consider, for example, the behaviour of living organisms, so low in the scale as the protozoa and metazoa, we shall be able to make this clearer. The physiologist had until quite recently explained the behaviour of these organisms in physical terms by the conception of 'tropism^.' Within the last ten years almost conclusive evidence has been brought forward, that tropism does not explain their behaviour. Accordingly Jennings, by whom a great deal of valuable work has been done in this field, now puts forward a conception of 'physiological state^.' At the same time as he employs this conception and term, he acknowledges that there may be a possible explanation in psychological terms*. Here is then our point, in what might be called its lowest terms. The psychological explanation of the behaviour of these organisms must be attempted by the psychologist, until it is shown to break down, or until it becomes tmnecessary. For the physiologist the object is stiU to interpret the ' physiological state ' in physical terms. Jennings, as biologist, is concerned with this factor, in the conditions deter- mining behaviour, simply as such, and, though his using the term 'physiological state' seems to indicate a leaning towards physiology rather than psychology for the ultimate explanation, his concern is not so much with the ultimate explanation as with the mode in which and the extent to which this factor determines behaviour. For him it is simply a 'vital' phe- nomenon. The characteristic weakness of psychology must undoubtedly give a preference to the physiological explanation, when one is forthcoming, and that, even where a psychological explanation seems to cover the facts more completely and adequately, because of the inferential nature of the psychological explanation along its whole course, if we may speak in that way, and the many factors rendering such inference doubtful and difficult * See Jennings, Behaviour of Lower Organisms, Paper No. 4. ' Jennings, Paper No. 5. » Jennings, Paper No. 7. i] Introduction 7 under the particular circumstances. Nevertheless the psy- chologist is justified in maintaining his psychical explanation, imtil the whole mass of the phenomena in question, and every detail, are exphcable without it, that is to say, until there is nothing left for the psychologist as such to explain. Leaving biology out of account, let us see how the general principle affects the relations of physiology and psychology. A large and very influential group of psychologists at the present day have virtually abandoned the standpoint of psychology and adopted that of physiology, by conceding that a really scientific explanation of experience, or of mental process, in psychical terms is impossible, because the principle of conservation of energy in the physical world and the necessity imposed upon the physicist, of looking for a causal explanation of a physical process in physical processes, excludes any scientific explanation of behaviour except in physical terms. " If I move my hps to say yes or no, it is a physical movement, and the whole endless chain of its causes must have gone on in the physical world. Thus the physicist, however far he may be from the actual demonstration of the details, must postulate that those Hps were moved to a yes, because the brain processes made it necessary, and these brain processes depended upon the inborn disposition of the nervous system, and the trillions of influences which have reached it since birth^." This is of course true for the physicist, but how it is true for the psychologist is not so clear. With the psychologist this point of view leads either to epiphenomenahsm or to some form of the hypothesis of psycho-physical paralleKsm, which, when we come to consider behaviour, must also become epiphenome- nahsm, if the whole causal explanation of the behaviour is to be sought in preceding physical process. Apart from the difficulties which the hypothesis of psycho- physical parallelism involves^, it is, as a hypothesis, in the extraordinary position of explaining nothing. The physiologist naturally takes the view, that, if it amuses the psychologist to * Munsterberg, Psychology and the Teacher, p. 104. ' See James, Principles of Psychology, vol. i, chap, v, and more recently Sturt, Principles of Understanding, chap, n, and McDougall, Body and Mind, chaps, xi-xiv. 8 Introduction [OH. dignify his study with the name of science, he is in the meantime welcome to the amusement, but the processes he is studying make, on his own confession, no difierence to the facts, and can have no bearing whatever, ultimately, on the scientific explana- tion of animal behaviour. As we have seen this is in any case the view which the physiologist as physiologist is bound to take, at least until he has determined the Umits beyond which it is impossible for his explanation to carry him. The hypothesis of psycho-physical parallelism is therefore nothing to the physiologist. It is not his hypothesis ; it explains nothing for him; he can and does ignore it. On the other hand, the psychologist, so long as he restricts himself to the explanation of behaviour in terms of experience and mental process, does not require the hypothesis. It is only when he wishes to relate his results to the results and the claims of the physiologist, that the need arises for some hypothesis to express and explain this relation. The hypothesis of psycho-physical parallelism ex- presses this relation as an eternally incomprehensible mystery, and explains it not at all. The steps by which modern psychology has reached the position, where such a hypothesis becomes possible, are more or : less clear. First of all an intellectualistic bias has caused i certain important aspects of experience to fall into the back- \ groimd. That rendered possible the mechanical psychology of associationism. Then the experimental and objective methods of the new experimental psychology, bringing physiologist and psychologist together, as regards methods of approach to their subject-matter, have also modified the view of the psychologist I regarding the nature of that subject-matter, until sensations, I images, memories, emotions have come to present themselves as simply the psychical analogues of certain physiological pro- ' cesses. Not that the psychologist may not legitimately study the processes in the nervous system, which are correlated with experience, and which mediate between experience and be- haviour. He will occupy every Uttle hill of knowledge which enables him to get a better view of his own field, but for him, so far as he is psychologist, " everything has to be found by the i] Introduction 9 direct method, and whatever is suspected from other discovery- must be verified by it^." McDougall from the physiological side comes very near to the true point of view when he says^ : "The physiological psychologist must recognize that all th^ objective methods of psychological study presuppose the results of the subjective or introspective method, and can only be fruitful in so far as they are based upon an accurate intro- spective analysis of mental processes. He must recognize tooj that introspective psychology is in a much more advanced condition than neurology." This is very near the right point of view, but it is still the point of view of the psychological physiologist rather than of the psychologist as such. What requires to be emphasized is, that the indirect explanation of experience in terms of nervous structure and nervous process is no psychological explanation at all, but a physiological one, and that all kinds of errors will creep into psychology unless this fact is clearly recognized. Not only do objective methods presuppose the introspective method, but the results obtained by objective methods are only valid for psychology, when, and in so far as, they can be interpreted in terms of experience. The order of procedure is ijr introspection, objective study, and then again introspectionj for the psychological interpretation. What is, as such, in-i capable of being so interpreted belongs to physiology, not psychology. There is thus a legitimate and an illegitimate physiological psychology, and the hypothesis of psycho- physical parallelism is the undoubted, the unmistakeable offspring of the illegitimate. May we not regard it as at the same time the reductio ad absurdum of such a physiological psychology? There appears to be no necessity for psychology to take the line of thought which leads to psycho-physical parallehsm, unless we are prepared to admit that psychology is essentially a branch of physiology. It seems quite gratuitous to assume that causation is a principle applying only to the physical^, ' Mitchell, Structure and Growth of the Mind, p. 447. 2 MoDougaU, Physiological Psychology, p. 13. ' See James, Principles of Psychology, vol. i, p. 136 f. for a powerivil state- ment on this point. 10 Introduction [CH. that the conservation of physical energy is a necessary postulate of psychologist, as of physiologist and physicist, that experience as dynamic cannot be studied scientifically, and that therefore the psychologist must be content with the description of an experience which is epiphenomenal, which is static, and which is merely an abstraction from the reality of life. Are there no effects, even in the physical world, which obstinately refuse to be explained apart from human purpose and endeavour? I The mere asking of the question seems sufficient to refute a mechanical psychology, developing from physiological psy- chology, and resting on the hypothesis of psycho-physical parallehsm. It is impossible to discuss the psychology of interest and motive, of emotion and vohtion, without the con- viction being forced upon us that no physiological explanation can ever explain these phenomena. The James-Lange theory of the emotions, which might be regarded as an approach to a physiological explanation in this part of the field of experience, has been definitely rejected even by leading physiologists^- Jennings' investigations of the behaviour of lower organisms, already cited, show that the physiological explanation is inadequate to explain behaviour even in such cases. On the other hand, the physiologist must admit that, so long as the psychologist restricts himself to the direct explanation of experience, that is, in terms of experience, there is no gap in his explanation where the work of the physiologist becomes necessary to complete it, while the physiological explanation of experience is far from complete, and its gaps must be filled by the psychologist. The general position is that the psychologist may sometimes find the indirect explanation of experience in physiological terms useful, just as he may sometimes find the indirect explanation in biological terms useful, but the usefulness, in both cases, is mainly in making clear the relation of experience to behaviour, or of behaviour to experience, where it is not a mere usefulness of analogy. But the psychologist, so far as he is a psychologist, must rely upon, and stand by, his own method, and his own explanation. ' Sherrington, Integrative Action of the Nervous System, p. 256 ff. i] Introdwcticm 1 1 The relation of biology to psychology seems also in need of being cleared up, but, in this case, the main diflSculty arises from the fact, that, as against the psychologist, the biologist tends to think as a physiologist. So far as the results of physiological or psychological investigation bear upon the problems of the biologist, he will of course utihze the results obtained by the other sciences, but his problems and his methods are the problems and methods of neither physiology nor psy- chology, and their results merely supplement his own analysis. That is to say, where biological analysis leaves off in the study of behaviour on the one side, physiological analysis begins, where it leaves off on the other side psychological analysis begins. In what follows we shall not as a rule require to distinguish the physiological account of Instinct from the biological, and may call both biological. Since the biologist, like the physio- logist, studies the behaviour of living organisms from the objective point of view, the biological explanation is continuous with the physiological, in a way in which it cannot be continuous with the psychological. Hence the biologist always tends to talk in physiological terms, rather than psychological, even where he is deahng with phenomena, the physiological explana- tion of which derives its whole meaning from the investigations of the psychologist. This fact seems to make it still more incumbent on the psychologist to assert the rights of the psychical explanation, or at least to develop the psychical explanation, instead of merely accepting the biological, seeing that, in the present state of biological science, the scales are so heavily weighted against psychology. He will, at any rate, avoid a good deal of confusion by keeping the two accounts separate. We are still left with the relation of psychology to philosophy. The general principle to be apphed here is, that psychology is no more concerned with the ultimate nature and meaning of reality than is any other science. All that psychology is con- cerned with, is the description and orderly arrangement, orl scientific explanation, of the facts of experience from the inner ' or subjective side, and the relation of these facts of experience ■ 12 Introduction [CH. I to the observed behaviour of living organisms, but not at all with the ultimate meaning of these facts, or of experience, or of hfe. The psychologist may find it necessary to frame hypotheses, which go beyond the facts themselves, in order to account for the facts psychologically. For example, the psychologist may find it necessary to talk of a mind or soul which experiences, in order to account for the facts of experience^. With the ultimate nature of the mind or soul philosophy is of course concerned, but the psychologist is concerned with the soul merely as a conceptual synthesis of certain facts in the field he studies. Or the psychologist may require some hypo- thesis to cover the facts involved in psychical changes deter- mining or apparently determining physical. Psycho-physical paralleUsm is such a hypothesis. In so far as this is taken as a statement of the real nature of a certain relation, it concerns the philosopher, but for psychology it might be a mere con- ceptual synthesis. That this particular hypothesis has no value at all for psychology, and that any value it has must be for philosophy, does not affect the argument in the least. Psychology makes no statement regarding the ultimate nature of the facts it studies, nor the ultimate reaUty expressed by its hypotheses. Its aim is merely to bring scientific order into a certain field of phenomena; its account and its hypotheses are vahd only for the facts they cover, and with reference to the aim of the science itseK. On the other hand a philosophy, developed without regard to the conclusions of psychology, or of the physical sciences, and taking no account of their hypotheses, could hardly hope to satisfy the human reason. For each science is the residt of the working of the human reason in a particular limited field, and its vahdity within its own field cannot be ignored by a philosophy that claims validity in all fields. Thus the con- clusions and the hypotheses of psychology, as of other sciences, necessarily furnish problems for philosophy. Philosophy must begin, as it were, where psychology leaves off. ^ E.g. MoDougall in Body and Mind. i] Introduction 13 Definition of Instinct. The argument has hitherto been very general, but we now come to its application. Is it possible to give a psychological account of Instinct? The answer to this question will depend on the meaning we assign to 'Instinct,' the way in which we define it. The definition of Instinct has recently led to con- siderable confusion in psychology, both animal and human. Some writers, Rutgers Marshall^, Lloyd Morgan^, Stout^ among others, would restrict the term to the objective, that is, generally, the biological sense. Baitgers. Ma^all is especially emphatic. "The word Instinct should properly be used in an objective sense, and in an objective sense only." It is the tendency of the clearest writers to avoid its use "with subjective connota- tion." He finds it difficult to see how the word can be used except in an objective sense*. Nearly all modern definitions of Instinct are in objective terms, that is in terms of behaviour, and many psychologists are content to accept this usage, but whether they are justified in doing so is very questionable, as we shall see presently. At the outset, then, we are apparently faced with a definition of Instinct, which practically excludes it from the universe of discourse of psychology. There is, however, another side of the argument. In general hteratme from Bacon ^ to the present day, and in popular speech, the word Instinct has had a subjective, though imdeniably somewhat vague, signification. Thus the subjective) and psychological sense of the word is by far the older, and, in spite of what Rutgers Marshall says, the established sense in our own and modern languages. Further it is true to the root meaning. Now psychology has employed the word in this sense, though again, it must be confessed, often rather vaguely, since before Descartes. Lord Herbert of Cherbury, in his be Veritate, published in 1624, in enumerating the human ^ Rutgers Marshall, Instinct and Reason, p. 85. 2 IJoyd Morgan, Instinct and Experience, p. 104 et passim. ' British Journal of Psychology, vol. in, p. 243. * Instinct and Reason, loc. cit. See also Karl Groos, Die Spiele der Tiere, English translation by E. Baldwin, p. 62. ' "Man, upon the instinct of an advancement formal and essential, is carried to seek an advancement local." Advancement of Learning, book n. 14 Introduction [CH. faculties, begins with Instinctus Naturalis^- This Natural Instinct has a double sense throughout Lord Herbert's work. It is first of all the original source of the motive forces urging towards self-preservation both animals and man, and urging man also towards those things which will secure his happiness^. In the second place it is the source of what he calls Notitiae Communes, which are sacred principles, guaranteed by Nature herself, possessing the six distinguishing characteristics of priority, independence, universaUty, certainty, necessity, im- mediacy' Descartes' 'innate ideas' took the place of Lord Herbert's 'notitiae communes,' and that part of the con- notation of the word Instinct was only occasionally and incidentally included by subsequent psychologists. But, as we shaU see later, nearly every psychologist since Descartes has employed the word Instinct, and in a sense generally corresponding to the first of Lord Herbert's senses. Moreover, even the biologist has discovered that he cannot define Instinct, for the purposes of biology, in purely objective terms. He cannot define Instinct without introducing into the definition psychological terms, and thus virtually conceding that Instinct must have a psychological aspect and a psycho- logical sense. Thus Romanes holds that the only point, "wherein instinct can be consistently separated from reflex action" is in regard to its mental constituent, and he would define Instinct as " mental action (whether in animals or human beings), directed towards the accompHshing of adaptive movement antecedent to individual experience, without necessary knowledge of the relation between the means employed and the ends attained, but similarly performed under the same appropriate circum- stances by all the individuals of the same species*." ' "Quod igitur in omnium est ore, tanquam verum aooipimus, neque enim sine Providentia ilia Universali momenta aotionum disponents fieri potest quod ubique fit, denique, si quicquam intra nos Instinctus Naturalis potest, hoc potest certe, qui cum in Elementis, plantis, irrationaliter, hoc est sine disoursu, operetur ; cur non in nobis idem praestiterit, praesertim in iis quae ad nostram speotant oonservationem ; cum in homine et plura desiderentur, et in iUo demum reliqua perficiantur animantia?" De Veritate, p. 3. " De Veritate, p. 81. ' De Veritate, p. 76. " Romanes, Animal Intelligence, p. 15. i] Introduction 15 Darwin^, while not attempting a definition of Instinct, finds it necessary to speak of "mental actions" and frequently to use terms descriptive of psychical phenomena in his descriptions of instincts. He also uses the expression "instinct impels."l\ A. R. Wallace maintains^ that "niuch^ the mystery of instinct arises from the persistent refusal .to recognize the agency of imitation, memory, observation,, and reason as often forming paft-ofit." We may consider, therefore, that the psychologist is quite within his rights in discussing Instinct. That even the biologist is forced to concede. The next question is: how are we to define Instinct for the purpose of psychological discussion? The psychologist must preserve as far as possible the continuity of psychological thought, and understand by Instinct what the psychologists of the past have understood by it. Subject to this condition, the psychologist of the present day never- theless finds himself at a great advantage, as compared with the older psychologists, on account of the data placed at his disposal by the biologist. T wo courses seem to be open to the psychologist. He may take his departure from the notion of conscious i^npulse, as G. H. Schneider, for example, does', andl define Instinct as "conscious impulse towards actions ten^ngl to the preservation of the individual or the maintenance of the race without conscious foresight of the end, and prior to individual experience of the means." Or he may make thejj nature of the experience which accompanies instinctive be-' haviour his point of departure, and define Instinct in some such terms as McDougall employs. Of these alternatives the second seems the preferable one. A psychology of Instinct, starting from the notion of conscious impiilse, is in serious difficulties at the very outset, and is almost compelled to follow the biological accoimt instead of developing a psychological account. If, on the other hand, we start from 'instinct experience,' we necessarily start with a 1 Darwin, Origin of Species, chap. vn. See also posthumous essay appended to Romanes, Mental Evolution in Animals. " A. R. Wallace, Da/rwinism, p. 442. ' Schneider, Der menschliche Wille, p. 109: "Instinct ist das psychische Streben naoh Arterhaltung ohne Bewusstsein des Zweckes von diesem Streben." 16 Introduction > [CH. psychological account of this experience, and explain our biological facts from the psychological point of view through- out. Mppmigall defines^ not Instinct but ' an instinct,' and he defines this as "an inherited or innat e psyp.hn-pTiyaip.a.l dis- p osition whirl* dptPTTnin^H it s pfr pnonnnr t u p frrfivfj — and to pay attenti on to, objects of a certain class, to experience a iL em otional excitement of a particular qu ali t.y upon perceiain g suchan object, and t o act in regar d to it in a particular ma nner, or, at least, to expe ri ence a n impulse to such action." The inclusion in the definition of the notion of a 'psycho- physical disposition' is of questionable value, and seems to smack a little of the old Faculty Psychology, or of Herbartianism. Otherwise this is evidently the kind of definition from which the psychologist must start. It is in psychological terms. It attempts to characterize the kind of experience, which accom- panies and underlies instinctive behaviour, finding it necessary to describe this experience as involving cognitive, affective, and conative elements. Whether McDougall's description of 'in- stinct experience' is right or wrong, or partly right and partly wrong, we shall proceed to enquire later. At any rate it is a psychological definition, bringing Instinct into the psycho- logical universe of discourse, and making a discussion of Instinct by the psychologist possible. It is also, beyond question, in fine with the original sense, both popular and psychological, of the word 'instinct' as a 'prompting from within' arising from the natural constitution of men and animals, and determining the behaviour of man or animal, sometimes independently of what is popularly opposed to it, and popularly called 'intelhgence' or 'reason.' There is, however, another definition of Instinct, which has been largely employed in psychological works during the last half-century, and which may be regarded as a definition intended to satisfy both the biologist and the psychologist. In this case Tnat ipct is defint^ . d in objective terms, that is, in terms of actio n of Bghaviour. James^'ftTrrds a simple example of this kin d of definition, when he defines Instinct as "t he facidty o f acting 1 MoDougaU, Socio/ Psychology, p. 29. ' i] Introdmction \7 (-i£ such a way as to produc jui.ei ±aia^gnds, without foresight of t he ends, and without preyioagi. education in the performance^." "A "fiiore complex definition of this kind is that"given15yTiIbyd Morgan. He defines instinctiye behaviour — avoiding the definition of Instinct itself altogether — as "comprising those complex groups of coordinated acts, which, thoiigh the^Tcon^ triBuEe^b experience, are, on their first occurrence, not deter- mined by indiAridual experience : which are adaptive and tend to the well-being of the individual and the preservation of the race ; which are due to the cooperation of external and internal stimuU ; which are similarly performed by all members of the same more or less restricted group of animals; but which are subject to variation, and to subsequent modification under the guidance of individual experience^." We shall return later to a discussion of Lloyd Morgan's views regarding the nature of Instinct and 'instinct experi- ence,' as we find these expressed in his most recent works. For the presient we are merely concerned with this definition as a possible definition for the psychologist to adopt. Lloyd Morgan is by no means alone in discussing the psychology of Instinct on this basis. Hobhouse, in an important discussion of Instinct', practically subscribes to his views*, and, while regarding Instinct as simply "the response of inherited structure to stimulus^," proceeds to a psychological discussion of in- stinctiye behaviour on Unes, which are almost identical with Lloyd Morgan's. We may attempt to make a definition of Instinct which will be acceptable to both biologist and psychologist, but the result may be a definition satisfactory to neither, a definition that can find a place in neither science as such. From the biological point of view 'internal stimuU,' if that means more than stimuli coming from within the physical organism, can mean nothing. The clause 'though they contribute to experi- ence' is equally meaningless. From the psychological point of 1 James, Principles of Psychology, vol. Ii, p. 383. " Art. 'Instinct; in Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th ed. The same definition may be foimd elsewhere in Lloyd Morgan's works on Comparative Psychology. ' Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, chap. iv. * Op. cit., p. 46, footnote. ■■ Op. cit., p. 53. D. 2 18 Introduction [CH. view, the defimtioh merely mentions the fact that there are psychological phenomena connected with the objective mam- festations of instinctive behaviour, but makes no attempt to specify the character of these psychological phenomena. The definition might easily be made satisfactory to the biologist, because it is mainly a definition in biological terms. But to the psychologist it could never be made satisfactory, for it is a definition which is essentially in objective terms, in terms of behaviour as such, and no attempt whatever is made to describe the experience which underUes that behaviour. To admit that the behaviour is conscious is to admit that it comes within the purview of the psychologist, to attempt to define it without defining the nature of that consciousness is to give a definition which, by no stretch of imagination can be called psychological. The definition of Instinct given by Lloyd Morgan is an example of a tendency which has recently appeared in psy- chology to extend the limits of the science in such a way as to cause it to lose its own identity. One direction in which this tendency shows itself is the definition of psychology as "the positive science of the behaviour of living things^." But to define psychology in this way is hopelessly to confuse the fields of physiology, psychology, and biology. It is essential to specify the point of view from which psychology approaches the study of the behaviour of hving organisms. It is true that practically we do study psychology in order to imdersfand the behaviour of animals, of other people, or of ourselves, the ultimate controlling end being the modifying of our own be- haviour or that of others in order to attain our ends. But it is equally true that the mere study of behaviour woidd never give us the insight into the meaning of behaviour that we require. The fact is that, in order to understand behaviour as we wish to imderstand it, we must interpret it in psychological terms. We are able to do so, because we bring with us to the observation of behaviour a psychological knowledge of the experience underlying it, which is necessary for its interpre- tation. This is the case, either when we are observing behaviour, in order to verify psychological conclusions already reached, or ' McDougall, Psychology, the Study of Behaviour, p. 19. i] Introduction 19 psychological hypotheses, already provisionally formed, — for it must be conceded that the behaviour of animals, and of other persons, may become a secondary source of the data of psy- chology — or when we are observing the behaviour of animals or of other human beings in order to understand the experience underlying the behaviour, and thus the behaviour itself, so that we may have definite and sure guidance in our own actions with respect to these others, animals or human beings as the case may be. The study of behaviour as behaviour, apart from this point of view, can only result in an explanation in historical and de- scriptive terms, and is undoubtedly the province of the biologist. The psychologist takes as his province the study of experience, in order that he may give an explanation of behaviour in terms of experience, and by so doing understand it psychologically, and put himself in a position to enable others also, if necessary, to imderstand it psychologically. In the same way the physio- logist takes as his province the study of the hfe processes in nerve, muscle, and living tissue generally, in order that he in turn may give a physiological explanation of these processes, and understand behaviour physiologically. This is the con- clusion to which we have already come. But note the results which follow from a confusion of the different points of view. Instinct is a biological phenomenon, and we can give an account of Instinct in biological terms. So long as our universe of discourse is biological such a definition is quite in place. But Instinct is also a psychological phe- nomenon, and presumably it may also be defined in psychological terms. If we take' Instinct, as biologically regarded and described, over into the universe of discourse of psychology, confusion is bound to arise. In psychology we describe and explain phenomena of experience, and we talk of perception, of interest, of inteUigence, of reason, defining these in terms of experience, and on the whole finding little difficulty in under- standing the various phenomena subsumed under each, and the modifications of behaviour produced by the various kinds of experience so described. But there enters upon the scene a, biological dramatis persona, Instinct biologically defined. We 2-2 20 Introduction [CH. i are nonplussed. Instinct refuses to enter into any relation with perception, or interest, or intelligence, or reason. All kinds of insoluble problems arise. We meet expressions like "Instinct suffused with inteUigence^," "intelligence arising within the sphere of instinct^" in our psychological reading, and can attach no definite psychological meaning to them. They have no definite meaning. And all the trouble of this sort has arisen because we are not consistently adhering to one universe of discourse. In the discussion that follows we shall understand Instinct in some such sense as McDougaU understands it, attempting to reach a more definite position later, as regards the real nature of 'instinct experience,' and to formulate a more adequate definition. In the meantime, and provisionally, we understand by Instinct an innate impelling force guiding cognition, accompanied by interest or emotion, and at least partly determining action. We are quite in agreement with McDougall's protest against using the term Instinct to denote exclusively instinctive action*. At the same time that appears quite consistent with his own definition of psychology. Natural inchnation or propensity would best express in a general way the essential element in what we mean for the present to call Instinct. Until we come to a clearer psychological under- standing of Instinct, we may take natural inclination or propensity as the topic under discussion. In what follows we shall first of all trace the general historical development of psychological views regarding Instinct in this sense. In the second place we shall attempt to give a satisfactory psychological account of the nature of Instinct. Lastly we shall attempt to trace its relations to other elements and aspects of experience, and more especially to some of the more important phenomena of development and education. 1 Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, p. 77. ■" Hobhouse, op. cit., p. 79. ' British Journal of Psychology, vol. iii, p. 253. CHAPTER II DESCRIPTIVE PSYCHOLOGY OP NATURAL INCLINATION OR INSTINCT PROM HOBBES TO DUGALD STEWART Three distinct influences may be traced in the psychology of the present day: in the first place the influence of Locke, Hume, and the Scottish school of philosophy, which, though sometimes identified with Associationism, is really much wider, in the second place the influence of German psychology, mainly Kantian and post-Kantian, in the third place the influence of modern physiology and biology. In considering the historical development of modern views regarding Instinct, we shall find it convenient to keep these lines of influence separate, and we shall begin with the Une of influence which is the most dis- tinctively psychological, that through Hume and the Scottish School. The tendency of recent psychology to interpret the active side of experience in terms which are essentially non-psycho- logical has had for its counterpart, among those psychologists who stood by the older introspective method, a tendency to concentrate attention on the cognitive side of experience, and either to ignore feeling, motive, and volition altogether, or to attempt an interpretation of these in cognitive terms, with some slight recognition of pleasure-pain, at any rate as hedonic tone. The field of psychology was not always so circumscribed. The older psychologists took the whole of human experience as they foimd it, and, with such scientific procedure and method as their philosophical leanings would permit, endeavoured to give some account of the affective and active aspects of experience as, and in terms of, affection and action. It is because they did so, and because the measure of success which attended their 22 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Indination [ch. efforts was by no means negligible, that we find it profitable to discuss, in connection with our present topic, the development of introspective psychology prior to the raising of the various evolution problems by modern biology. A start may fittingly be made with the psychology of Thomas Hobbes^, not because Hobbes was the first to give us a psychology of feelings, emotions, and vohtions, or of natural inclinations and propensities, but rather because he sums up to a considerable extent previous results, at the same time making a relatively marked advance from the vagueness and crudity of previous treatment. Hobbes occupies in the psychology of natural propensities, inclinations, and behaviour a position somewhat analogous to that which Hume occupies in the psychology of perception. "The main stream of EngUsh ethics begins with Hobbes and the replies that Hobbes provoked^." The stimulus under which Hobbes imdertook a psychological analysis of human nature may be found in the then current conception of the Law of Nature, upon which, it was maintained by writers like Grotius*, the whole structure of society and civihzation was based. According to Grotius, Natural Law "is a part of divine law that follows necessarily from the essential nature of man*." Hobbes attempted to discover what was the essential nature of man. He found it necessary to deny that man is naturally a social animal, and to assert the primacy of man's egoistic tendencies. This became the great point at issue between Hobbes and his critics, and led to the develop- ment, in England and Scotland, of a descriptive psychology of the active side of human nature. What is for us the most interesting part of the psychology is to be found mainly in the sixth and succeeding chapters of the Leviathan^. The sixth chapter itself is devoted to a dis- cussion "Of the Interiour Beginnings of Voluntary Motions, ^ 1588-1679. The chief works of Hobbes germane to the present discussion are: Human Nature, (1650, 2nd ed. 1651), and Leviathan (1651). ' Sidgwick, History of Ethics, p. 159. s 1583-1645. * Sidgwick, op. cit., p. 161. ' There are numerous editions. Our references by page will be to that published in 'Everyman Library.' ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Diigald Stewart 23 commonly called the Passions." What Hobbes calls ' voluntary|' or 'animal motion' is distinguished from 'vital motion' by tht fact that it is always determined by a preceding thought^. Before the external phase of the movement itself, in walking, speaking, striking, and the like, there is an internal phase which he calls 'endeavour,' "the small beginnings of motion^." Of 'endeavour' there are two kinds, 'endeavour' towards, which is appetite or desire, 'endeavour' fromwards which is aversion*. Hobbes draws a distinction between appetites and aversions' which are innate, and appetites and aversions for particular^ things which arise from experience*, but in his subsequent discussion he does not attempt to develop this distinction. Instead he proceeds to classify human emotions and sentiments on the basis of the wider distinction between appetite and aversion, and extracts the ethical distinction between good and evil from the same psychological source^. In the light of later thought three points in the discussion are notable. In the first place Hobbes assigns similar inc lina- tions and emot ions to an imals. "The alternate succession," he says, of appetites and aversions, hopes and fears, is no less in other living creatures than in man*." In the second place curiosity is assigned a peculiar position among emotions, since, according to his view, it is "found in no other living creature but man'," and "this singular passion" is, after reason, a second mark distinguishing man from the lower animals. In the third place he confuses in a very peculiar way pleasure and pain which determine appetite and aversion with appetite and aversion themselves. This confusion appears more particularly in his Human Nature, where he defines pleasure as motion which helps 'vital motion,' and pain as the reverse*, and concludes that "since all delight is appetite... there can be no contentment but in proceeding.... Fehcity therefore, by which we mean continual deUght, consisteth not in having prospered, but in prospering'." The "cardinal doctrine in mora,l psychology^"," which 1 Leviathan, p. 23. " p. 23. » p. 23. « p. 24. » p. 24. « p. 26. ' p. 26. ' Moles worth, The English Works of Thomas Hobbes, vol. iv, p. 31. ' Molesworth, vol. iv, p. 33. ^^ Sidgwick, op. cit., p. 164. 24 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [cH. Hobbes reaches as a result of his psychological analysis of human nature, is that all man's desires are essentially directed towards his own preservation and happiness, and what are apparently unselfish emotions are analysed and explained in terms of this self-regarding tendency. It was on the ground of this psychological egoism that Hobbes was attacked later by Shaftesbury, Butler, and Hutcheson but the attack was made with weapons forged by a more acute psychologist than any of them. The rise of Cartesianism gave a great impulse to the develop- ment of modern descriptive and analytic psychology. Though the main tendency of this new psychology and philosophy was to concentrate attention on the purely cognitive and intellectual aspects of mind, culminating in what Schopenhauer has called — and rightly from the psychological point of view-^the " mad sophistry of HegeP," yet Descartes^ himself, and Malebranche more particularly among his immediate followers, attempted to give some account also of the feehng elements in human nature, of man's natural inclinations, emotions, and passions. Descartes' treatment of human incHnations and passions must be regarded as a very subordinate part of his work, and as not at aU representing the real direction of his interests. Nevertheless it is significant and suggestive. He starts with the two principles, that the sole function of the mind is thought, and that thoughts are of two kinds, 'actions of the soul' and ' passions.' The ' actions of the soul ' are our desires. ' Passions ' are "kinds of perception or forms of knowledge which are found in us " ; the soul does not make them what they are, but receives them "from the things which are represented by them*." From this wide use of the word 'passion' Descartes immedi- ately passes on to the narrower and more usual application. The perceptions 'foimd in us' are again of two kinds, the one kind being merely the perceptions of our desires, which appear therefore as both actions and passions of the soul, the second ' Die Welt ah Wills und Voratellniig. Trans, by Haldane and Kemp, vol. II, p. 31. 2 1596-1650. ' Passions of the Soul, part i, art. xvii. Translation by Haldane and Ross, vol. I. ii] or Instinct from Hdbhes to Dugald Stewart 25 kind having the body, not the soul, as their caused Among the latter three kinds must be distinguished: (a) perceptions which relate to objects without us, that is sensations^, (6) per- ceptions which relate to our own body, such as " hunger, thirst, and other natural appetites*," (c) perceptions which relate to our soul itself, such as "the feelings of joy, anger, and other such sensations, which are sometimes excited in us by the objects which move our nerves, and sometimes also by other causes*." These last are the passions, in the ordinary restricted sense. The account given of the passions is in the main physiological, that is, in terms of movements of the 'animal spirits^.' But Descartes attempts a classification of them in terms of the "diverse ways in which they are significant for us®," distinguish- ing six primary emotions, wonder, love, hatred, desire, joy, and sadness, of which aU the other emotions — and he describes about forty — are modifications or combinations'. In several notable passages, also, he emphasizes their function to "incUne and dispose the soul to desire the things for which they prepare the body^." "The objects which move the senses do not excite diverse passions in us, because of all the diversities which are in them, but only because of the diverse ways in which they may harm or help us, or in general be of some importance to us; and the customary mode of action of all the passions is simply this, that they dispose the soul to desire those things, which Nature tells us are of use, and to persist in this desire, and also bring about that same agitation of spirits, which customarily causes them to dispose the body to the movement which serves for the carrying into effect of these things*." This is really the closest approximation to a psychological theory of Instinct that we find in Descartes. With his views * Art. XIX. ^ Art. xxin. » Art. XXIV. Translations are generally by Haldane and Koss. * Art. XXV. * See arts, xxvti, xxx, XLvr, etc. Also Meditation VI. * Passions of the Soul, part i, art. xvn. ' Op. cit., part n, art. LXix. " Part I, art. XL. » Part n, art. m. 26 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [CH. regarding the relation of soul and body, and his apparent belief that animals are mere complex machines, we need not feel surprise to find him stop at this point. How are we to estimate this portion of the work of Descartes ? A modern writer^ has said of Descartes' treatment of the emotions that it is di£&cult "to find any treatment of the emotions much superior to it in originahty, thoroughness, and suggestiveness." This is a remarkably high estimate, and scarcely justified by the facts. In some respects Hobbes' discussion of the emotions is more definite. Both Hobbes and Descartes are considerably in the debt of previous writers. But we do find in Descartes an interesting anticipation of the James-Lange theory, a very clear recognition of the function of the emotions, and connected with that some indications of a theory with regard to the expression of the emotions. We also find in Descartes, as in Hobbes, an early attempt at a psychological classification of the emotions, but Descartes' basis is wider than that of Hobbes. Lastly, though Desca,rtes does not apparently use the word 'Instinct' there is a quite definite assertion of the part _which_Nature plajs_in__d5ter- mining ,the_ fundamental passions and_desires of man, which can be regarded as the germ of a theory of Instinct. In our opinion, however, the greatest service rendered by Descartes in this psychological field was the extent to which he paved the way for Malebranche^, who gives us by far the best discussion of natural tendencies, inclinations, and passions, prior to the biological discussions of the nineteenth century, and the biologico-psychological discussions of the twentieth. Founding upon the psychology of Descartes, both of the intellectual processes and of the feelings and inclinations, Malebranche carries us far beyond that psychology in the latter field. Again and again he surprises by his knowledge of human nature, and his acute analysis of the various factors on the emotional and active side. To remember him only as a Cartesian is to remember him for what is probably the less ^ It is not very certain what the real views of Descartes were in this con- nection. Note the words "nor perhaps any thought" in art. L, of part i. ' Irons, quoted by Bibot in Psychology of the Emotions, p. Ill, footnote. = 1638-1715. ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugald Stewart 27 important and less valuable part of his work. As a psychologist of human tendencies and emotions he takes exceedingly high rank. Malebranche follows Descartes in the general Unes of his psychology as of his philosophy. Understanding is opposed to WiU, while sense, imagination, and the pure understanding are distinguished on the cognitive side of mental life, and incUna- tions and passions on the active side. Understanding and the inclinations are further considered as belonging to the mind as such, while the others belong to the mind only when and because it is united with a body. In his chief philosophical work, Be la Recherche de la Virite^ Malebranche uses the word 'Instinct' with moderate frequency, but can hardly be considered as using it in an exact and definite sense. Sometimes it means for him 'natural incUnation' or propensity; at other times it appears to mean some kind of innate knowledge, ' connaissance d' instinct^.' Thus he says: "Pleasure is an instinct of nature, or to speak more precisely it is an impression of God himself, who inclines us towards some good^" Again, we are obeying God's voice, when we yield to "the instinct of nature, which moves us to the satisfying of our senses and our passions*." God "moves us to the good of the body only by instinct*." On the other hand we find him asserting that we are persuaded by "the instinct of sensation" that our souls are imited to our bodies, 'instinct of sensation' being in this passage opposed to 'light of reason*.' He also points out that God in his grace has added ' instinct ' to ' iUumina- tion'.' Book IV, in which the natural inchnations are discussed, ' First published in 1674. As there is not, so far as we are aware, any modem English version of the Recherche — there are contemporary English versions by Sault and by Taylor — our references will always be to the text itself (Gamier ed.). 2 p. 511. ' p. 43. " Le plaisir est un instinct de la nature, ou pour parler plus claire- ment, c'est uue impression de Dieu meme, qui nous incline vers quelque bien." * p. 499. " C'est obeir i. sa voix que de se rendre k cet instinct de la nature, qui nous porte k satisfaire nos sens et nos passions." * p. 500. "II nous porte au bien du corps seulement par instinct." * p. 509. " C'est par I'instinct du sentiment que je suis persuade que mon ame est unie k mon corps, ou que mon corps fait partie de mon §tre; je n'en ai point d' evidence." ' p. 511. 28 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Iviclination [CH. strange to say, does not afford us a single instance of the use of the word 'instinct.' It opens with the thesis that the understanding receives its directions from the will, and that the mind must have inchnations, just as bodies have motions. Further the essential principle of all natural inchnations, and therefore of all will, is that they are directed towards ' good in generaP.' At the same time, he says, we must recognize that there are also natural inclinations towards particular goods. Malebranche's psychological classification of the natural tendencies and the emotions commences with his division of the natural inclinations into three groups. The first group is of those inclinations included in, or derived from, the inclination towards 'good in general.' In this group is classified curiosity or the inclination towards novelty, which he derives from the incUnation towards good in general. Curiosity is the vain striving of imperfect humanity to satisfy an incUnation, which the circumstances in which man is placed make it impossible to satisfy. The second group comprises the inchnations towards particular goods which have to do with our own preservation and welfare, i.e. self -regarding tendencies. In the third group we have the inclinations towards particular goods which have to do with the welfare of others, i.e. the social tendencies. The most important part of the fourth book is probably the discussion of the principal natural inchnations in the second group, included by Malebranche under self-love^, that is ' love of greatness' and 'love of pleasure.' Taking the discussion of the 'love of greatness' in the fourth book along with the dis- cussion of the 'contagion of the imagination*' in the third part of the second book, we get a very interesting and very complete psychological study of what, following Ribot and McDougall, we now call the 'self-feehngs,' together with associated phe- nomena, more especially those dependent upon suggestibiUty and imitation. Whatever tends to make us superior to others, such as learning, or virtue, or honours, or riches, "seems to make us in a certain way independent. All those that are our inferiors ^ "Le bien en general." " " L' amour propre." " "Communication oontagieuse des imaginations fortes." ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dtigcdd Stewart 29 reverence and fear us, are always prepared to execute what we please for our welfare, and are afraid of ofEending us or resisting our desires^." Moreover, men desire not only to possess learning or riches, but also to have the reputation of possessing them. For it is the reputation of being rich, learned, virtuous, that "produces in the imagination of those around us, or those with whom we come into closest contact, a disposition very advantageous to us." It "prostrates them at our feet," and "inspires them with all the motions that tend to the preservation of our being, and the augmentation of our greatness^." Closely associated with these phenomena of 'self-feehng' are the phenomena of 'contagion of the imagination,' that is, the phenomena we classify imder the heads of imitation and suggestibility. This 'contagion of the imagination,' Male- branche says, is best seen in children with respect to their parents, in servants with respect to their masters and mistresses, or in courtiers with respect to their princes and kings, and it is shown generally in all inferiors with respect to their superiors*. Malebranche illustrates by taking the case of courtiers and kings, but most of the phenomena he cites are quite general. The religion of a prince makes the religion, the reason of a prince the reason of his subjects, and especially his courtiers. Hence "the sentiments of a prince, his passions, his sports, his words, and generally everything he does, will be in fashion." When the tyrant Dionysius applied himself to the study of geometry, on Plato's arrival in Syracuse, according to Plutarch geometry immediately became the study of the whole court, ^ Book IV, chap. vi. p. 403. "Toutes les choses, qui nous donnent une certaine elevation au-dessus des autres, en nous rendant plus parfaits, comme la science et la vertu, ou bien qui nous donnent quelque autorite sur eux, en nous rendant plus puissants, comme les dignites et les richeases, semblent nous rendre en quelque sorte independants. Tous ceux qui sont au-dessous de nous, nous revferent et nous craignent, ils sont toujours prets k faire ce qui nous plait pour notre conservation, et ils n'oeent nous nuire ni nous r^sister dans nos desirs." * Book IV, chap, vr, p. 404. "La reputation d'etre riche, savant, vertueux, produit dans 1' imagination de ceux qui nous environnent, ou qui nous touchent de plus prfes, des dispositions tr&s commodes pour nous. EUe les abat k nos pieds : eUe les agite en notre faveur : elle leur inspire tous les mouvements qui tendent k la conservation de notre 6tre, et k 1' augmentation de notre grandeur " » Book n, part m, chap. II. 30 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [ch. and the king's paface was filled with dust owing to the drawing of figures in it^. As regards children, their imitativeness and suggestibility are heightened by the narrowness of their experience, and the influence of their parents' example increased by mutual afiection. The parents' sentiments and opinions are to the child the only principles of virtue and reason. Hence "the boy walks, and talks, and carries himself in the same way as his father, the girl imitates her mother in gait, discourse, and dress. If the mother lisps, her daughter lisps also ; if the mother has any * odd fling with the head,' the daughter shows the same ; in short children imitate their parents in everything, even in bodily defects, face, and expression, as well as in their errors and vices^." Finally, to complete his treatment of suggestion, Malebranche points out that suggestion may arise from other circumstances, in addition to the prestige of the source, as, for example, the manner in which, or the degree of conviction with which, any statement is made. Later he adds as an additional factor public opinion. "We Uve by opinion; we esteem and love what is esteemed and loved in the world*." The second aspect of self-love is the 'love of pleasure.' Malebranche is quite conscious of the difficulties involved in this part of his treatment, and makes a strenuous effort, not without some success, to overcome these difficulties. The general principle he applies is one laid down in his first book: "Le plaisir et la douleur sont les caracteres naturels et incon- testables du bien et du mal*." This he interprets in the fourth book, pointing out that, though pleasure is "a good, and actually makes the enjoyer happy while and so long as he enjoys it," yet, after all, it is "but the seasoning whereby the ' Book II, part in, p. 245. "Si Denis le Tjrran s' applique k la geometrie 4 Tarrivee de Platon dans Syracuse, la geometrie devient aussitot k la mode, et le palais de oe roi, dit Plutarque, se remplit incontinent de poussi&re par le grand nombre de oeux qui tracent des figures." ^ Book II, part in, p. 242. " Un jeune gar9on marche, parle, et fait les memes gestes que son pfere. Une fille de meme s'habille comme sa mfere, marche oomme elle, parle comme elle ; si sa mfere grasseye, la fille grasseye ; si la mfere a quelque tour de tete irr^gulier, la fille le prend. Enfin les enfants imitent les parents en toutes choses, jusque dans leurs defauts et dans leurs grimaces, aussi bien que dans leurs erreurs et dans leurs vices." » p. 280. ' Book I, chap, v, p. 46. ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugcdd Stewart 31 soul relishes her good^." That is to say, God has attached pleasure to certain objects, which man ought to seek, and pain to other objects, which he ought to avoid, in the interests of self-preservation. Both pleasure and pain are positive; pleasure is not the mere absence of pain, nor is pain the mere absence of pleasure^. But they must not, on the other hand, be regarded as the real object of the natural inclination, but ' rather as attached to it. The chief difficulties and incon- sistencies, that arise on this theory, Malebranche attributes to the results of the Fall. After discussing the two natural inclinations, curiosity and self-love, or rather the two groups of natural inclinations falling under these heads, Malebranche passes on to a discussion of the third group, natural inclinations tending towards the welfare and preservation of other creatures. He points out that the various incUnations of this group are always accompanied by passions, and must therefore come up later for consideration in that connection. The most notable part of this preUminary discussion is the very clear recognition of that tendency which McDougall has called 'primitive passive sympathy.' We rejoice, he says, in the joy of others, we sufEer by the evils that befall them. The rise or fall of beings of the same species as ourselves seems to augment or diminish our own being, and all the more so, if they are our friends, or nearly related to us'. Then comes a remarkable passage*. "Upon the sense of some sudden surprising evil," which he finds too strong for him, a man raises a cry for help. This cry "forced out involuntarily by the disposition of the machine," falls on the ears of those near enough to render assistance. " It pierces them and makes them imderstand it, let them be of what quality or nation ' Book IV, p. 377. "Car o'est par le plaisir que I'ame goute son bien." ' Book V, chap, m, p. 483. ' Book IV, chap, xiii, p. 459. * p. 461. "A la vue de quelque mal qui surprend, ou que Ton sent oomme insurmontable par ses propres forces, on jette, par exemple, un grand cri; ce cri pousse souvent sans qu'on y pense, et par la disposition de la machine, entre infaiUiblement dans les oreilles de ceux qui sont assez proches pour donner le seoours dont on a besoin ; il les penfetre ce cri, et se fait entendre k eux, de quelque nation et de quelque qualite qu'ils soient ; car ce cri est de toutes les langues, et de toutes les conditions, comme en efEet il en doit etre ; il agite le cerveau et change en un moment toute la disposition du corps de oeux qui en sont frapp^s, il les fait mSme courir au secours sans qu'ils y pensent." 32 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [CH. soever." It is "a* cry of all nations and all conditions," and it stirs with emotion all those who hear it, and makes them involuntarily rush to give help. This communication of the emotions through sympathy is also described, and alluded to, in several passages in book v. Thus, in the third chapter, we read that, if a man's own strength appears insufficient to meet a certain situation, he "mechanic- ally" utters certain words and cries, "and there is difiused over the face, and the rest of the body, such an air and expression as is capable of actuating others with the same passion, he himself is possessed with^." In the seventh chapter of the same book, where he is treating of wonder or admiration, Malebranche makes the very clear statement, that all the passions have their own appropriate expressive signs, which "mechanically" over- spread the countenance, and "mechanically" inspire others with the same emotions*- This is true also of wonder or admiration, which produces on our face an expression that "mechanically" arouses in others the same emotion, and causes their faces to take on precisely the same expression*. This description of the phenomena of 'primitive passive sympathy' is very notable. Equally notable is Malebranche's clear recognition of the social significance of these phenomena. Subsequent ethical writers laid great stress on sympathy, but none of them has given so clear and so adequate a psychological account of it as Malebranche. There is yet another interesting point in this chapter on wonder or admiration. After referring to admiration some of the phenomena we now refer rather to the original self tendencies, Malebranche indicates a theory of play, which to some extent anticipates the theory of Karl Groos. The Author of nature "regulates the phenomena of '■ p. 484. "Que si les forces de I'liomine ne lui suffisent pas dans le besoin qu'il en a, oes memes esprits sont distribu^s de telle maniSre, qu'ils lui font proferer machinalement oertaines paroles et certains oris, et qu'ils r^pandent sur son visage et sur le reste de son corps, un certain air capable d'agiter lea autres de la meme passion dont il est emu." ^ p. 526. "Toutes lea passions... rdpandent machinalement sur le visage ...un air qui, par son impression, dispose machinalement tons ceux qui le voient k oes passions." ' p. 525. " L' admiration meme. . . produit sur notre visage un air qui imprime machinalement I'admiration dans lea autrea ; et qui agit meme sur leur cerveau d'une manifere si bien rdgMe, que lea esprits qui y sont contenua, aonf pousses dans les muscles de leur visage pour y former un air tout semblable au n6tre." ii] or Instinct from Hobbcs to Dugald Stewart 33 the soul with reference to the good of the body, and causes the young to be deUghted with such exercises as invigorate the body. Thus, while the flesh and fibres of their nerves are yet soft, the channels, through which the animal spirits must necessarily flow to produce all sorts of motions, are worn and kept open^." At the outset of his discussion of the passions or emotions in the fifth book, Malebranche makes clear the relation of these to the inchnations. Emotions are due, he says, following Descartes, to the fact that the soul is joined to a body, and they arise from the motions of the blood and animal spirits^- Never- theless they are inseparable from the inchnations. Just as the essential principle of the inclinations is the love of good in general, so the essential principle of all the emotions is that they inchne us " to love our own body and what is useful for its preservation*." One of the laws of the union of soul and body is that all inchnations of the soul should be accompanied by emotions. From this it follows, the principle just mentioned notwithstanding, that "we are united by our passions to what- ever seems to be the good or evil of the mind, as well as to what we take for the good or evil of the body*." Interest is deter- mined by all the passions, that is, they tend to make us apply our minds to objects, although this seems more particularly the function of 'admiration' or wonder, which stimulates the desire for knowledge and truth. Though natural inchnations and passions are common to all men, yet they vary in strength in different individuals. There is also variety in the objects to which emotions attach themselves in difierent individuals. This is true both in regard to natural inclinations referring to the mind alone, and in regard to those referring to the body, as well as in regard to general passions. In particular passions there is an infinite variety, ^ p. 530. "Cette disposition (qui excite a la chasse, a la danse, etc.) est fort ordinaire aux jeunes gens....I)ieu, qui, comme Auteur de la nature, rfegle les plaisirs de Tame par rapport au bien du corps, leur fait trouTer du plaisir dans I'exeroice, afin que leur corps se fortifie. Ainsi dans le temps que les chairs et les fibres des nerfs sont encore molles, les chemins par lesquels il est n^cessaire que les esprits animaux s'ecoulent pour produire toutes sortesde mouvements, se tracent et se oonservent." ' Cf . Descartes, Lange, James, Ribot. ~~^~-n p. 471. * p. 481, 1 D.- 3 34 Descriptive Psychology of Natwral Inclination [cH. according to the relations that different objects may have to different individuals. All emotions, apart from admiration, have seven character- istic marks^ : 1. A 'judgment' of the mind concerning some object. 2. A determination of the will, towards the object, if it appears good, away from it, if it appears evil. 3. The characteristic feehng^ which attends the emotions, the primary feeUngs being love, hatred, desire, joy, sorrow. 4. Changes in the course of " the blood and animal spirits " of such a nature as to dispose the body in a way "suitable to the ruhng passion." 5. A "sensible commotion of the soul," by which the soul participates in what affects the body. 6. Secondary feelings* of love, hatred, joy, desire, sorrow, arising from the "concussion caused in the brain by the animal spirits." 7. An internal satisfaction "which detains the soul in her passion," and which attends all the passions whatsoever and makes them pleasant, arising from the feeling that we are "in the best state we can be in reference to those things we perceive by our senses." This summarizes practically the whole of Malebranche's theory of the emotions. He illustrates the various points by hatred, and, in discussing hatred, makes some other points clear. In the first place, he asserts, that the difference between hatred and love, is not in the motion of the will, which in both cases is towards good, but in the feelings, determined by these motions of the will. The 'motions of the will' are natural causes of the "sentiments de I'esprit," and these in turn main- tain the 'motions of the will.' All this might happen, though a man had not a body. In the second place, the organic effects produced are such as tend to the satisfaction of the incUnation, that is, the reaUzation of its end, and they in turn cause also in the mind the characteristic 'sentiments,' thus intensifying the primary 'sentiments,' and adapting them more particularly to the circumstances of the case. ^ Book V, chap, m, p. 482. ^ "sentiments." ^ "sentiment de la passion." ii] or Instinct from Hohhes to Dugald Stewart 35 The remainder of Malebranche's treatment of the emotions can be very briefly indicated. He goes on to consider in detail the individual emotions. The 'mother passions' are love and hate. These produce the 'general passions' desire, joy, and sorrow. All the other emotions are made up of these, more or less compounded and modified by circumstances, with the exception of admiration and the secondary emotions developed from it. Admiration is called an 'imperfect passion,' because it is not excited by either the idea or the sense of the good, but only by the novel. Its derived emotions are esteem, veneration, contempt, and disdain, according as the admired thing appears great or small, pride, haughtiness, valour, humihty, timidity, and so on, when the object is ourselves or our own qualities. The whole classification is elaborate and interesting, but it 'contains httle that is reaUy new, little that is very difierent from the psychology of Descartes. The really memorable part of Malebranche's work is his description of the phenomena we group imder sympathy, imitation, and suggestibility, his assertion of the relation of the emotions to the natural inclinations on the one hand, and to organic resonance on the other, and his classification and analysis of natural inclinations in the three groups, curiosity, self-regard, social tendencies. But altogether his contribution to psychology is of the first importance. Except for his somewhat elaborate descriptive psychology of the emotions, Spinoza^ did not contribute very much to the development of the psychology of the instincts or natural inclinations of man. Strictly speaking, the notion of instinct or natural inchnation has no place in his system of thought. All the elements of experience are for him cognitive elements. He understands by will "the faculty of affirming and denying," not the desire "by which the mind takes a liking or an aversion to anything^." "There is in the mind no volition... except that which the idea, in so far as it is an idea, involves'." "Will and intellect are one and the same thing*." 1 1632-1677. ^ Ethics, book II, prop. XLvni, note. ' Book II, prop. XLix. * Book ii, prop. XLix, Cor. 3—2 36 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [ch. In view of such explicit statements, one finds it very difficult to understand how Spinoza can ever make the tran- sition from knowing to acting, how he can ever give any psychological account of emotions and desires, save as 'in- adequate ideas.' But for the introduction of a notion quite inconsistent with the idea of mathematical necessity, upon which his whole system is based, he could not have made the transition. That notion is the notion of 'conatus,' which first appears in the proposition : " Everything endeavours so far as it can to persist in its own being^." Later we find that the mind is also conscious of this 'conatus^' and, when it "has reference to the mind alone," 'conatus' is identified with will, when "it refers at one and the same time to mind and body," with appetite, and appetite operating consciously is desire^. Martineau points out that this 'conatus* is in its origin simply the Cartesian law of inertia. "This rule of physical inertia Spinoza had first made to do further duty as the principle of life, and now recognizes again in all the propensions and emotions of the mind*." The significance of this ' conatus ' really hes in the fact that it shows the utter breakdown of a mechanical explanation of human experience, not merely the breakdown of a cognitive explanation. A further point of interest is its relation to the activity of the Leibnizian monads. For the present we can consider this 'conatus' of Spinoza as corresponding to the 'instinct' of Malebranche. But 'cona- tus ' is so obviously out of place in Spinoza's whole system of thought, that he employs the notion only when he cannot get on without it. In his discussion of the emotions he gets back to the cognitive as soon as he can, and as far as he can. The 'conatus' determines desire, and pleasure and pain, or joy and sorrow — his words are laetitia and tristitia — are, as it were, the guides of desire, in order to secure the end of self-conser- vation. These three— desire, joy, sorrow — are the primary feelings or emotions; aU the other emotions are secondary modifications or combinations of these. 1 Ethics, Book ni, prop. vi. ^ Book m, prop. ix. ■■' Book m, prop, ix, note. " Martineau, A Study of Spinoza, p. 237. ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugcdd Stewart 37 Sympathy, or imitatio affectuum, is made to play a con- siderable part among the emotions, as later in Adam Smith, and the account given of sympathy also to some extent resembles Adam Smith's^. "By the fact that we imagine a thing, which is Uke ourselves, and which we have not re- garded with any emotion, to be affected with any emotion, we also are affected with a hke emotion^." This is McDougall's 'primitive passive sympathy,' but with Spinoza it is not, as with Malebranche, an immediate reaction on perception of the signs of an emotion, but apparently a secondary or derived emotion, though not to the same extent, as with Adam Smith. It is interesting to find that McDougall's 'active sympathy' is also recognized by Spinoza. "Every one endeavours aa much as he can to cause every one to love what he himself loves, and hate what he himself hates*." There is one other point worthy of note in Spinoza's treat- ment of the emotions. That is his appUcation of what has been balled the 'law of transference,' traces of which are also to be found in Malebranche. This may be, and was later, regarded as a case of 'association of ideas*.' With Spinoza it is made to explain cases where objects, originally indifferent, come to stimulate emotions, and, therefore, also the development of what, following Shand^, we now call sentiments. "From the fact alone that we imagine anything, which has something similar to an object, which is wont to affect the mind with pleasure or pain, although that in which the thing is similar to the object be not the efiecting cause of those emotions, nevertheless we shall hate or love it accordingly*." The 'subjective note' with which modern philosophy opens in Descartes, "cogito ergo sum," has often been emphasized'. With the subjective character of the note psychology has less quarrel than with its intellectuaUsm. Eeid's name "the ideal system" or the "theory of ideas" is singularly appropriate for ' Theory of Moral Sentiments, " Book in, prop. xxvn. ' Book rn, prop, xxxi, Cor. ' Cf. Kibot, Psychology of the Emotions, part i, chap. xii. * Stout, Groundwork of Psychology, chap. xvn. " Book m, prop. xvi. See also props, xiv, xv, xvii. ' Seth, Scottish Philosophy, p. 19. 38 Descriptive Psychology of Natwral Inclination [CH. the Cartesian philosophy and its later developments. The character which justifies the name becomes specially evident in Locke, and, through Locke, has biassed practically all sub- sequent philosophy and psychology. Philosophy as a theory of knowing, psychology as an account of 'impressions' and 'ideas' have weUnigh held the whole field since Locke. We say 'wellnigh' rather than 'entirely.' For the ethical empiricism, arising in this country after Locke, to some extent the Scottish school of philosophical thought, Rousseau, Schopen- hauer, and a few others among Continental thinkers, continued the other aspect of psychological enquiries down to our own time, when a new interest has been stimulated by the results of biological and sociological investigations. The line of psychological development, which specially derives from Malebranche, rather than Descartes, has been hitherto largely ignored, except in so far as it has had a bearing on ethical theory. Nevertheless, from the purely psychological point of view, it is of great importance, and the future of philosophical thought proper may yet acknowledge its importance from the general philosophical point of view. From our present point of view Locke ^ is of comparatively minor significance. Malebranche's psychology was really con- tinued in the psychological enquiries of the English empiricists, who set themselves to answer the egoism of Hobbes in the ethical sphere, and more particularly in Shaftesbury^, Butler*, and Hutcheson*- The main ethical contention of aU was that altruistic tendencies are as 'natural' as egoistic. Shaftesbury appears to accept the contention that our ends are always pleasures or the avoidance of pains ^, but Butler traverses this view, and maintains that pleasure is merely the result which follows from natural tendencies attaining their natural ends*. All these writers recognize 'instinct' in the sense in which we found it recognized by Malebranche, but the most elaborate and significant development of the psychology of Instinct was made by Hutcheson, and we shall here confine ourselves to the discussion of his views. 1 1632-1704. 2 1671-171.3. » 1692-1752. » 1694-1747. * See An Enquiry concerning Virtue or Merit, book ii, part n. ' See Sermon, xi. Also Sidgwiok, History of Ethics, p. 192. ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugcdd Stewart 39 To Hutcheson we owe first of all a clear statement regarding the nature of Instinct, and a clear recognition of its place in human experience and conduct. "We may further observe something in our nature," he says, "determining us very frequently to action, distinct from both sensation and desire, if by desire we mean a distinct inclination to something appre- hended as good, either pubUc or private, or as the means of avoiding evil, viz. a certain propensity of Instinct to objects and actions, without any conception of them as good, or as the means of preventing evil.... Thus in anger, beside the intention of removing the uneasy sensation from the injury received; beside the, desire of obtaining a reparation of it and security for the future, which are some sort of Goods, intended by men when they are calm, as well as during the passion, there is in the passionate person a propensity to occasion misery to the offended, even when there is no intention of any good to be obtained, or evil avoided, by this -violence. And 'tis principally this propensity which we denote by the name Anger.... This part of our constitution is as inteUigible as many others uni- versally observed and acknowledged ; such as these, that danger of falling makes us stretch out our hands ; noise makes us wink ; that a child is determined to suck ; many other animals to rise up and walk ; some to run into water, before they can have any notion of good to be obtained or evil avoided by these means ^." We find that Hutcheson places Fear in the same category with Anger. He also recognizes what we call the gregarious instinct as of the same order, but he enumerates it among the 'appetites^.' He makes an attempt to distinguish between 'Instinct,' 'Affection,' and 'Passion,' though the distinction is not consistently adhered to. The fundamental difference between Instinct (natural propensity) and Affection appears to be that the latter involves desire for a good, the former only 'uneasy sensations,' the latter is subsequent, the former prior to experience. Violent mental disturbance is the mark of the Passion, and that may arise in the case of both Instinct and Affection. In spite of this distinction, however, he often ^ Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions, section m. ^ Nature and Conduct of the Passions, section iv. 40 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [CH. confuses Affection* and Instinct, sometimes using the words as if they were synonymous. " In the calmest temper there must remain affections or desire, some implanted instinct for which we can give no reason; otherwise there could be no action of any kind^" Hutcheson also discusses the function of the instincts in determining conduct, and their relation to Reason. His general position is that "though we have instincts determining us to desire ends, without supposing any previous reasoning, yet 'tis by the use of our reason that we find out the means of attaining our ends^." Reason itself can never determine any end. "No reason can excite to action previously to some end, and no end can be proposed without some instinct or affection'." The more systematic portion of Hutcheson's psychology is associated with his classification of the 'natural powers' of the human mind. These he arranges in six classes : (a) the external senses, (b) the 'internal sense,' which determines the pleasures arising from the perception of "regular, harmonious, uniform objects, as also from grandeur and novelty," (c) the 'public sense,' which determines us "to be pleased with the happiness of others and to be uneasy at their misery," (d) the 'moral sense,' which determines the perception of virtue and vice in ourselves or others, (e) the 'sense of honour,' which makes us pleased at the approbation of others and ashamed at their condemnation, (/) the sense of the ridiculous. Desires and aversions fall into similar classes*. It is in connection with the 'public sense' that he explicitly recognizes the appetite which corresponds to our gregarious instinct, and which he calls "desire for company." This appetite, in the absence of company, determines a "fretfulness, sullenness, and discontent," and it also apparently underlies "benevolence and compassion," for these, he says, "presuppose some such knowledge of other sensitive beings^." Hutcheson goes on to define objects as good or evil according '■ Illustrations upon the Moral Sense, section v. " Op. oit., section i. " Op. cit., section v. " Nature and Conduct of the Passions, section i. * Op. cit., section IV. ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugald Stewwrt 41 as ttey cause or occasion, directly or indirectly, "grateful or ungrateful perceptions." Desires and aversions are determined by apprehended good and evil in this sense. They may be distinguished as primary or secondary, according as they are directed towards ends determined by 'natural propensities' or affections, or towards ends which merely serve as means for the attaining of primary ends. In the second category he would place such desires as the desire for wealth and power, and he employs the doctrine of 'association of ideas' to show how various particular secondary desires can arise from original or primary desires. His distinction between calm and violent desires, which was later adopted by Hume, is possibly valuable for his ethics, but is not very signij&cant for his psychology. His further division of desires into selfish and 'public' or benevolent leads him to a discussion of sympathy, which, after Malebranche's, is very disappointing. Finally, though the distinction is somewhat obscured by his opening distinction between good and evil, Hutcheson, like Butler, carefully points out that desire is normally desire of an object, not of the pleasure or satisfaction to be obtained thereby. Desire, he says, is generally accompanied by an uneasy sen- sation, but the desire is not a desire simply to remove the uneasiness. Further there is a pleasant sensation attending the gratification of desire, in addition to the satisfaction obtained from the object itself of the desire, but "desire doth never arise from a view of obtaining that sensation of joy, connected with the success or gratification of the desire." In the case of the appetites, these are always characterized by the fact that there is a previous 'uneasy sensation' antecedently to "any opinion of good in the object" (that is, they are instincts according to the definition already given). The object is esteemed good because it allays this pain or uneasiness, but it is 'desired' prior to its being experienced as ' good^.' As far as the psychology of the instincts and emotions is concerned, Hume^, Adam Smith', and others of the rising 1 Nature and Conduct of the Passions, section iv. 2 1711-1776. ' " 1723-1790. 42 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [CH. 'Scottish School,' must be closely associated with Hutcheson, not only as regards their method of approach to ethics, which indeed was not original in Hutcheson, but also as regards a great number of their fundamental psychological doctrines. In some cases this is due to the influence of Descartes, Male- branche, and Locke on them all, but in many cases it is also direct borrowing from Hutcheson on the part of the others. They may reach difierent ethical conclusions, but their differences as regards the psychology of conduct are marvellously shght. Neither Hume nor Adam Smith gives so systematic a psy- chology of the natural tendencies and emotions as Hutcheson, but both make valuable and interesting additions, Hume in his comparative discussions of animal psychology, and in his development of several points which Hutcheson did not sufficiently emphasize, Adam Smith in his elaborate discussion of sympathy. It is, however, somewhat notable that neither Hutcheson, Hume, nor Adam Smith, nor indeed any of the philosophers of the Scottish School, made a real psychological advance on Malebranche's treatment of sympathy, imitation, and suggestion; what advance they made was in the treat- ment of specific natural tendencies as distinct from these general tendencies. In any history of the psychology of ethics, Hume must always occupy an important place, not merely for his careful and detailed analysis of the various psychological factors involved in human conduct, but still more for the vast influence which he exerted on the Enghsh associationist school. As regards his contributions to the psychology of Instinct, however, Hume's importance is by no means so great. He is throughout fettered by the account he has already^ given of the elements of mind as 'impressions' and 'ideas.' There is a comparatively minor role for instincts to play. Most of Hume's difficulties, however great ingenuity he may display in surmounting them or getting round them, arise from this very source. They exist ^ Hume comes to the psychology of conduct in book ii of his Treatise of Human Nature, after he has already discussed the psychology of cognition in book 1, and some of the conclusions he has already arrived at are of such a nature as inevitably to influence the whole subsequent development of his thought. II] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugald Stewart 43 for Hume in a way they did not exist for Locke, since Locke almost wholly ignored the emotional side of human nature, in his psychology as in his educational theory, while Hume, under the influence of the teaching of Malebranche, Shaftesbury, and Hutcheson, frankly faced the problems presented by the emotions and affections, and attempted to find solutions of these problems, consistent with his intellectual psychology of impressions and ideas. His ingenuity is often exercised, and vainly exercised, to save his consistency. Hume's conception of Instinct is nowhere very clear or definite. Its earliest appearance is in the first book of the Treatise, where he distinguishes those actions of animals which are due to intelligence from those due to instinct, but adds that reason itself "is nothing but a wonderful and imintelligible instinct in our souls^." The EnqiMry, dealing with the same topics, gives a much clearer and more expUcit statement: "For, though animals learn many parts of their knowledge from observation, there are also many parts of it, which they derive from the original hand of Nature, which much exceed the share of capacity they possess on ordinary occasions, and in which they improve little or nothing by the longest practice and experience. These we denominate instincts, and are apt to admire as something very extraordinary and inexphcable by all the disquisitions of human understanding. But our wonder will perhaps cease or diminish, when we consider that the experimental reasoning itself, which we possess in common with beasts, and on which the whole conduct of fife depends, is nothing but a species of instinct or mechanical power, that acts in us unknown to ourselves, and in its chief operations is not directed by any such relations or comparison of ideas, as are the proper objects of our intellectual faculties. Though the instinct be different, yet still it is an instinct, which teaches a man to avoid the fire, as much as that which teaches a bird, with such exactness, the art of incubation, and the whole economy and order of its nursery^." In this passage 'instinct' seems to be used in two senses. 1 Treatise of Human Nature, book i, part m, section xvr. ^ Enquiry concerning the Human Understanding, section ix. 44 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [ch. It is a kind of knowledge derived from "the original hand of Nature." On the other hand, it is a "mechanical power," which "acts in us." But most frequently the word is used in what appears to be a third sense, as equivalent to 'original impulse' or 'tendency.' For example: "The sentiment of justice is either derived from our reflecting on that tendency (the tendency to promote pubhc utility), or, Uke hunger, thirst, and other appetites, resentment, love of life, attachment to ofispring, and other passions, arises from a simple original instinct in the human breast, which Nature has implanted for like salutary purposes^." In other words, Hume embodies all the different views, that have been held, or that can be held, with regard to the nature of Instinct, without apparently becoming conscious of any difficulty or inconsistency. Nevertheless it is in the third meaning that the term is generally used by him, that is, as equivalent to an original impulse or propensity, underlying in many cases emotional tendencies or passions, and this meaning becomes of considerable importance, when Hume goes on to treat of the passions. In the Natural History of Religion Hume specifies two important characteristics of an instinct. In the first place, it is "absolutely universal in all nations and ages^." In the second place, it "has always a precise, determinate object, which it inflexibly pursues*." Hume classifies emotions or passions into two groups, direct and indirect, as he calls them, but which might rather be called primary and secondary. Direct or primary passions are of two kinds, those founded upon experience of good and evil, for "the mind by an original instinct tends to unite itself with the good, and to avoid the evil*," and those arising from natural impulses or instincts, which "produce good and evil, and proceed not from them^." To the former group belong desire and aversion, to the latter "self-love, affection between the sexes, love of progeny, gratitude, resentment®." • Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, section iii, also appendix n. ^ The Natural History of Religion, Introd. ^ Loo. clt. * Treatise of Human Nature, book n, part in, section ix. 5 Op. cit., book II, part ni, section ix. « Natural History of Religion, Introd. II] or Instinct from H4)bhes to Dugald Stewart 45 Pride and humility, love and hatred, are the typical indirect or secondary passions, which, though founded upon natural tendencies, always arise from a double relation of impressions and of ideas. Hope and fear, with their modifications, belong with desire and aversion, and these are the only direct passions to which Hume devotes much attention. Curiosity he treats separately, but apparently it also is a direct passion, though belonging to the second group. Hume, like Hutcheson, holds that the ends of human action are dependent upon the sentiments and affections, and not on the intellectual functions. Hence reason is no motive for action, but has merely the function of directing the "impulse received from appetite or inchnation^." The sole determining motives of the will are the passions, or ultimately Instinct, though this conclusion is nowhere, so far as we are aware, drawn exphcitly. Passions, however, may be calm or violent, and it is when the motive is of the calm kind, that we are deceived into thinking that the motive is reason. " Keason is, and ought only to be, the slave of the passions^." The only other aspect of his psychology, requiring some notice here, is the treatment of sympathy. Sympathy plays a very considerable part in the whole psychology of the emotions. It is defined as that propensity we have "to receive by com- munication" the "inchnations and sentiments" of others, and the first appeal to it is made in discussing the "love of fame'." Sympathy appears partly to cover what we call suggestibility, that is, the tendency to accept the opinions of certain others, but, in the case of opinions, Hume distinguishes between the effects of sympathy and those of 'authority,' so that we might say he recognizes both tendencies, though occasionally inclined to confuse their results. Hume accounts for the communication of feeling through sympathy by supposing that the signs of the feeling give rise in others to the idea of the feeling, which, through its vividness, becomes an impression. He is thus very near to the position "■ Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, appendix i. ^ Treatise of Human Nature, book ii, part ni, section ni. ' Op. cit., book n, part i, section xi. 46 Descriptive Psychology of Natwal Inclination [CH. that feeling is communicated directly on perceiving the signs of the feeling, that is to McDougall's 'primitive passive sym- pathy.' Upon this sympathy Hume bases the various phe- nomena, which we consider as arising rather from the gregarious instinct, including McDougall's 'active sympathy,' that is, the desire that others should share our feelings^. He is uncertain whether to base kindly feeling for others on sympathy or upon an original and specific instinct^. Adam Smith is notable in the history of psychology for his elaborate discussion of sympathy, and his attempt to base an ethical system on that tendency. Otherwise he makes no particular addition to the analysis of emotion and wiU by Hume and Hutcheson^. He differs somewhat from Hume in his account of the communication of feeling by sympathy. According to Adam Smith, -we experience the feeUngs of others by imagining ourselves in their places. Perhaps too much should not be made of his use of the word 'imagine.' Nevertheless the use of that word undoubtedly suggests to him, as to the reader, a certain interpretation, which is, as certainly, a wrong reading of the facts. "The mob, when they are gazing at a dancer on the slack rope, naturally writhe and twist and balance their own bodies, as they see him do, and as they feel that they must do, if in his situation*." "Sympathy does not arise so much from the view of the passion, as from that of the situation which excites it^." Both these statements show very clearly the direction of Adam Smith's thought regarding sympathy, and explain why he uses the word 'imagine.' Active sympathy is also noted by Adam Smith, being dis- tinguished as something more than the mere communication of feehng. " Nothing pleases us more than to observe in other men a fellow-feeling with all the emotions of our own breast; nor are we ever so much shocked as by the appearance of the * Treatise of Human Nature, book n, part n, section iv. ' Loc. oit. ' This is perhaps not quite true, for there is a rather good analysis of 'surprise,' 'wonder,' 'admiration,' etc. at the beginning of his Essay on the 'History of Astronomy.' * Theory of Moral Sentiments, part i, section i, chap. i. ' Loc. cit. ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugald Steivart 47 contrary^." "This correspondence of the sentiments of others with our own appears to be a cause of pleasure, and the want of it a cause of pain, which cannot be accounted for in this manner (i.e. by passive sympathy)^." When we have read a book so often that we no longer find entertainment in it, " we can still take pleasure in reading it to a companion*." Adam Smith's whole theory of morals is founded upon the interaction of these two forms of sympathy. Our judgment of another is determined by the extent to which we can sym- pathize with the motives underlying his conduct, and our judgment of ourselves by the extent to which the 'impartial spectator* can sympathize with our motives. Apart from this aspect of his theory, Adam Smith agrees in the main with Hume, as regards the origin of the various emotions and passions, more especially those which rest directly upon instinct, as well as with respect to the analysis of the more complex emotional states*. Ten years after the publication of Adam Smith's Theory of the Moral Sentiments, Adam Ferguson^ published his Essay on the History of Civil Society, which deserves mention here, if only for the clear statement with regard to the existence in man of a gregarious instinct. " Together with the parental affections," he says, "we may reckon a propensity, common to man and other animals, to mix with the herd, and, without reflection, to follow the crowd of his species*." "The track of a Laplander on the snowy shore gives joy to the heart of the lonely mariner." Except for the first part of the book, which is devoted to a discussion of the general characteristics of human nature, Ferguson's Essay, though readable enough, is rather superficial. There is, however, this other very interesting and explicit statement : "Man, like the other animals, has certain instinctive propensities, which, prior to the perception of pleasure and pain, and prior to the experience of what is pernicious or useful, I Moral Sentiments, part i, section i, chap. n. * Loo. oit, ^ Loo. oit. * See especially Note to chap, v of section i, book i. ^ 172S-1816. Adam Ferguson has the unique distinction of having filled three different professorial chairs in Edinburgh University, Natural Philosophy, Moral Philosophy, and Mathematics. ' Essay on the History of Civil Society, part i, section in. 48 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [CH. lead him to perform many functions, which terminate in him- self, or have a relation to his fellow-creatures. He has one set of dispositions which tend to his animal preservation, and to the continuance of his race; another which lead to society, and, by enhsting him on the side of one tribe or community, frequently engage him in wars and contentions with the rest of mankind^." The line of psychological development from Malebranche through Hutcheson and Hume, like the hne from Descartes through Locke and Hume, reached its final expression in the psychology underlying the philosophy of the Scottish School. But, whereas Reid^ is by far the most important representative of the Scottish School in the one line of development — the psychology of cognition, — Dugald Stewart's^ is the most in- teresting treatment of the psychology of conation. To some extent Reid's Common Sense must be interpreted psychologically as a protest against the notion that the bare impression or idea represents the reality of our cognitive experience, and an assertion of the principle that living ex- perience, even on its cognitive side, is determined by a 'given,' which is not in the impression or idea as such. It does not seem quite justifiable to interpret Reid's answer to Hume wholly in the Ught of the 'critical philosophy' of Kant. We must remember that Reid's philosophy of 'Common Sense' was developed — to use a phrase which Professor Pringle-Pattison uses similarly of Green — "within the shadow of, and with special reference to, the Treatise of Human Nature*." The Treatise is fundamentally and essentially a psychological ana- lysis of experience, and Reid attacks it both as psychology and as epistemology. Had Reid not been more concerned, because of Hume's conclusions, in showing that perception is perception of a real object, it is easy to see how his analysis of perception might have led him to a clear recognition of native or instinctive impulses. As it was, in discussing Instinct under that name, Reid ' Essay on the History of Civil Society, part i, section in. 2 1710-1796. » 1753-1828. * Seth, Scottish Philosophy, p. 125. ii] or Instinct from Hohhes to Duogald Stewa/rt 49 contributed comparatively little to psychology, owing largely to the fact that he was considering Instinct frona the outside. Classifying the 'Active Powers,' Reid subdivides them into three groups: Mechanical Principles of Action, Animal Prin- ciples, and Rational Principles. Instinct, with habit, is placed under the first head, appetites, with desires and affections, under the second^- He also uses the term 'instinct' in a vague, popular sense, as determining that 'behef,' which underlies the perception of real objects, and, therefore, is the ground of the appeal to the principles of 'Common Sense.' Apart from this very unsatisfactory treatment of Instinct, under that name, some of Eeid's positions are not without considerable interest and significance for a psychology of the determining motives of action. He recognizes that there are two elements or constituents of human nature, which determine human conduct, and which have been known by mankind in all ages as 'passion' and 'reason.' Under 'passion' are com- prehended "various principles of action similar to those we observe in brute animals," called by the various names, appetites, affections, passions, which words are not used definitely, but "promiscuously^." Opposed to 'passion' is 'reason.' He gives a wide meaning to ' reason,' so as to include the ' calm ' passions, which both Hutcheson and Hume had emphasized. 'Reason' becomes, therefore, a motive force or principle of action. This 'reason' is the specific difference between the nature of man and the nature of brutes^. It is "superior to every passion, and able to give law to it*." This illegitimate use of the term 'reason' was afterwards rejected by Dugald Stewart, but it has at least this justification, that principles and ideals, which we accept as representing a law for us, do, by our acceptance, become real motive forces in us. Reid's mistake Ues in not making a psychological analysis of these principles and ideals, as his predecessors, Hutcheson and Hume, had done, and distinguishing in them what is strictly reason and what is not. Throughout the third chapter ^ Essays on the Active Powers of Man. Hamilton's edition of Eeid's Works, pp. 535, 547, 548. 2 p. 535. »p. 535. 'p. 536. D. 4 50 Descriptive Psychology of NatiMral Inclination [CH. « of the second essay on the ' Active Powers,' Reid continues this opposition of ' passion ' and ' reason,' always meaning by ' passion impidses of our 'animal nature,' what is common to man and the 'brute animals,' and what is characteristic of children "before the use of reason^." Under Instinct, in its mechanical sense, Reid includes mainly what we prefer to call reflexes, such as the tendency to wink when anything threatens our eyes^. Rather strangely, however, he also includes imitation, and seems prepared to add 'instinctive' behef — apparently suggestibihty — which, according to him, plays an important part in the education of the child. There are, in fact, according to Reid, two types of instinctive behef, the one corresponding to suggestibihty, the other the behef "which children show, even in infancy, that an event, which they have observed in certain circumstances, will happen again in hke circumstances*." The discussion of the 'Animal Principles of Action' contains very little that is essentially new, but sums up and illustrates, in almost as fuU and comprehensive a manner as in Hume's Treatise, the psychology of the various natural tendencies in the human being. One point perhaps deserves to be noted. Reid differs from Adam Smith in his account of sympathy, deriving it from pity, and that in turn from kindly feehng or benevolent affection, wherein Adam Smith may be wrong, but Reid is certainly not right*- Dugald Stewart's psychology of what he calls the 'Instinctive Principles of Action' may be regarded as a summing up of the ' results reached by psychology so far, and as more representative, as regards this part of psychology, of the real conclusions at which the Scottish School had arrived, than the corresponding parts of Reid's psychology. The comprehensive and generally lucid statement by Dugald Stewart of the general position in psychology exerted very great influence, especially in France, during the early part of the nineteenth century, and we shall therefore close our discussion of this hne of psychological ■development with an account of Stewart's psychology of V p. 539. » p. 547. * p. 549. * p. 565. All the references are to Hamilton's edition of Reid's Works. ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugald Stewart 51 Instinct. This we may regard as marking the high- water mark of the purely introspective psychology. At the beginning of the second volume of his Philosophy of the Human Mind, Stewart states carefully the sense in which he intends to employ the word 'reason,' and to this sense he, in the main, adheres, both in that and in his other works. " In the use which I make of the word 'reason,'" he says, "I employ it... to denote mainly the power by which we distinguish truth from falsehood, and combine means for the attainment of our ends^." Consequently, when he classifies the 'Active Powers' into 'Instinctive or Implanted Propensities' and 'Rational and Governing Principles^' he is not necessarily attributing motive force to reason alone, as Reid did, or at least seemed to do. The 'Instinctive Propensities' Stewart further classifies into appetites, desires, and affections, the ' Rational Principles ' into self-love and the 'moral faculty.' The relation of these to understanding or reason is not left for a moment in doubt . "Our active propensities are the motives which induce us to exert our intellectual powers; and our intellectual powers are the instruments by which we attain the ends recommended to us by our active propensities*." The activity of reason "pre- supposes some determination of our nature," which will make the attainment of the ends, towards which our activity of reason is directed, desirable. Not only so, but these active propensities also largely determine the direction and extent of the develop- ment of our intellectual powers, and hence "in accounting for the diversities of genius and of intellectual character among men, important lights may be derived from an examination of their active propensities*." The appetites are distinguished by three characteristics, their originating from states of the body, their periodical and occasional, rather than constant, occurrence, and their feeling accompaniment of ' imeasiness,' which is "strong or weak in proportion to the strength or weakness of the appetite*." The ^ Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. n, p. 11. ' Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers of Man, vol. i, p. 12. " Op. oit., vol. I, p. 2. * Op. oit., vol. I, p. 6. ' Op. oit., vol. I, p. 15 4—2 52 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Inclination [CH. main and indubitably natural appetities are three, hunger, thirst, and sex. The corresponding impulses — and the same is true as regards the 'desires' — are "directed towards their respective objects," not to any pleasure that arises from their gratification. "The object of hunger is not happiness, but food, the object of curiosity not happiness, but knowledge^." Nevertheless, as a result of the experience of pleasure, the mere gratification of an appetite may become the end, and thus we may have the development of many acquired appetites, such as the appetite for tobacco, the appetite for intoxicants, and the like. "Occasional propensities to action and repose," which apply to the mind as well as the body, may be added to the appetites*. In animals there are also "instinctive impulses," in the form of antipathies against natural enemies, but Stewart doubts whether these natural antipathies show themselves in man. The 'desires' differ from the appetites, in that they do not take their rise from states of the body, nor do they possess the characteristic of periodicity or occasional occurrence — that is, they are more or less permanent. Of natural 'desires,' five can be clearly distinguished, curiosity, the desire of society, the desire of esteem, ambition, and emulation^- Dugald Stewart's discussion of the desire for society, or the gregarious instinct, is of considerable interest. "We are led," he says, "by a natural and instinctive desire to associate with our species*," and this, apart from any perceived advantage to ourselves, and apart from any interest we may have in the happiness of others. Children show the instinct "long before the dawn of reason." The lower animals also clearly exhibit it*. In the light of this instinct, it is easy to show that Hobbes was in error in denpng the original social nature of man. The tendency towards union among human beings cannot arise from any selfish need of the assistance of others, because it shows itself when men do not stand in need of such assistance, and it is where men "are most independent of each other, as ^ Active and Moral Powers of Man, vol. i, p. 24. = Op. oit., vol. I, p. 20. ' Op. cit., vol. i, p. 22. * Op. cit., vol. I, p. 28. = Op. cit., vol. i, p. 29. ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugald Stewart 53 to their animal wants, that the social principles operate with the greatest force^." "It is not the wants and necessities of man's animal being, which create his social principles, and produce an artificial and interested league, among individuals who are naturally solitary and hostile; but, determined by instinct to society, endowed with innumerable principles which have a reference to his fellow-creatures, he is placed by the conditions of his birth in that element where alone the per- fection and happiness of his nature are to be found^." This is but a particular case of the "mutual adaptation" of nature, which is exhibited also in the case of all the animal instincts. "The lamb when it strikes with its forehead while yet unarmed proves that it is not its weapons, which determine its instincts, but that it has pre-existent instincts siiited to its weapons^." By the 'Desire of Esteem' Dugald Stewart means in the main what Ribot and McDougall call positive and negative self -feeling. Claiming this as "an original principle of our nature," he once more criticises those who would derive every principle of action from self-love, maintaining that the 'desire of esteem' shows itself too early to allow us to resolve it into a sense of the advantages which arise from the good opinion of others, and, citing also against such a view the desire of posthumous fame*. The importance of this original principle of action in the education of children is emphasized, and the part played by sensitiveness to the opinion of others, to public opinion, in the development of the moral hfe is fuUy recognized *- Ambition or the 'Desire of Power' covers several original tendencies of our nature, a fact of which Stewart is quite conscious, for he identifies it with the pleasure of activity, with the desire of being a cause — constructiveness* — and with the desire for property — acquisitiveness ' — but the last, accord- ing to his view, is a derived, not an original principle. In discussing emulation or the 'Desire of Superiority,' he dis- tinguishes this original principle very carefully from envy, which he regards as secondary and more complex. ' Active and Moral Powers of Man, vol. i, p. 33. 2 Op. cit., vol. I, p. 34. ' Op. oit., vol. i, p. 35. * Op. oit., vol. i, p. 42 5 Op. cit., vol. I, p. 55. ' Op. oit., vol. i, p. 60. ' Op. cit., vol. i, p. 63. 54 Descriptive Psychology of Natwral Inclination [ch. The Affections are "active principles whose real and ultimate object is the communication of either enjoyment or suffering to our fellow-creatures^." They may therefore be divided into benevolent affections and malevolent affections. Of the former, parental feehng is a typical example, of the latter, anger or resentment. Four of the benevolent affections are discussed in some detail, 'natural affection,' 'friendship,' 'patriotism,' and 'pity.' It is not suggested — in fact such a suggestion is exphcitly deprecated — that these are all equally original and unanalysable principles of action. The probabihties are quite the other way. But, that they are all founded upon original and primary instinctive tendencies, cann|)t be doubted. The treatment of pity is interesting, mainly because it involves the discussion of sympathy, which had already played so prominent a part in the psychology of morals. Adam Smith's analysis is examined and rejected. Stewart holds that looks, gestures, and tones of distress "speak in a moment from heart to heart*." The imagination is not involved at all. But what is involved, and how 'sympathetic induction' of feeling operates, is nowhere made clear. We are left with the impression that Stewart has no clear apprehension of sympathy as a direct communication of feehng, on perception of the signs of the feeling in others, however much occasional statements seem to point that way. In any case, 'sympathetic induction' of feehng does not appear to be appreciated in its wide significance at all, for Stewart is thinking only of sympathy in cases of pain and distress. A 'principle of Imitation*' or 'Sympathetic Imitation*' is appealed to, in order to explain some of the examples of sym- pathy cited by Adam Smith, as, for example, the effects of the dancer's movements on the slack rope ^. But Stewart exphcitly dechnes to identify this 'sympathetic imitation' with sym- pathy*. The analysis of sympathy must therefore be regarded as psychologically far from complete, and that, even when ^ Active and Moral Powers of Man, vol. i, p. 75. 2 Op. oit., vol. 1, p. 115. » Op. oit., vol. i, p. 119. * Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. in, chap. ii. ° See above, p. 46. ' Active and Moral Powers of Man, loo. oit. ii] or Instinct from Hobbes to Dugald Stewart 55 Stewart had before his mind, from the very beginning, the very aspect of the phenomena, which can alone lead to a satisfactory analysis. The 'malevolent affections' are treated rather summarily. Resentment, hatred, jealousy, envy, revenge, misanthropy, are enumerated, but the only one explicitly claimed as original and instinctive is the first, and anger or resentment alone receives full treatment. Two points are deserving of notice. In the first place Stewart accepts a distinction, originally drawn by Butler, between instinctive and dehberate resentment. He recognizes, that is to say, the fact that resentment operates both at the instinctive and at the rational level. In the second place he is misled by the system of morals, he is seeking to develop, into maintaining, with Reid, that the benevolent affections are always accompanied by agreeable, the malevolent by disagreeable feelings. He entirely overlooks that satis- faction which comes from the working out of any natural tendency whatsoever. This somewhat lengthy discussion of the older psychology, so far as it referred to the instinctive tendencies and emotions, seemed to be necessary in view of the fact that claims have recently been made, that psychology had almost entirely neglected this field, till the development of biological science in the nineteenth century, and especially since Darwin, had compelled the psychologist to recognize an emotional, as well as an intellectual, aspect of human nature, and also the fact that the animal mind is more or less continuous with the human mind. McDougall, for example, maintains that a "comparative and evolutionary psychology" alone can provide a basis for the social sciences, and that this could not be developed before Darwin^. With no wish to detract from the value of the work done by Darwin, which will receive due recognition later, we cannot help pointing out that McDougall's criticism- of the older psychology is misleading and unfair, and citing in evidence the psychological development from Malebranche to Dugald Stewart. Moreover, McDougall goes on to take up the position that 1 McDougall, Social Psychology, p. 5. 56 Descriptive Psychology of Natural Indination [CH. ii an introspective psychology could never have given us the necessary insight into the instincts and emotions of man, at the same time suggesting, rather than asserting, that the old , introspective psychology has to a large extent been superseded by the comparative study of animal and human behaviour. Again the psychological development we have just traced seems sufficient answer. Dugald Stewart is as clear and emphatic as McDougall in point- ing out the difficulties with which introspection must contend when it is directed to the investigation of our f eehngs and active tendencies^. In consequence of these difficulties introspective psychology will always have very distinct hmitations in this field, so long as we rely on introspection alone. Its conclusions will always be somewhat vague and general, without the assistance of a comparative study of the behaviour of animals, without the study of various phenomena under experimental conditions, without the study of abnormal phenomena'. But it is surely obvious that the comparative and evolutionary study of the behaviour of animals and human beings can give us no psychology at all, without such introspection — or retro- spection — as we can undertake, even in face of the confessed difficulties involved, for the purpose of interpreting the observed facts of behaviour in terms of experience. Dugald Stewart, as well as others of the older psychologists, quite reaUzed the valuable data — though only secondary data — which the psychologist could receive from the objective study of human history and human conduct, as well as of the behaviour of the lower animals. In justice more especially to the psy- chology of the Scottish School, it is necessary that these facts should be recognized. As for the view that the animal mind is, to a certain extent, and in a certain sense, continuous with the human mind, that can hardly be regarded as a result of modern biological and evolutionary theories, for it is at least as old as Aristotle^. ^ Active and Moral Powers of Man, vol. i, p. 9. ' There are several very striking passages in Aristotle, but see especially the passage in Historia Animalium beginning : (varn yip iv rots irXciffrois koI Twc AWuf ^i^wv i^x^Vf T^^ Trepl ttiv ^vxv^ Tpdirwv, airep ^irl t(ov hfdpwiruv ^x^' {paixpoiT^pas T&s Siatjtop&s (Bekker, p. 588, a 18). CHAPTER III PHILOSOPHICAL AND SCIENTIFIC VIEWS OF THE NATURE AND MEANING OP INSTINCT We have considered the view of Instinct which a descriptive and purely introspective psychology had reached by the begin- ning of the nineteenth century. The views of Instinct which have prevailed in more recent times have been either philo- sophical, physiological, or biological, rather than psychological, though they have often professed to be psychological, and it remains for us to give some account of the development of these. Recent philosophical views of Instinct have been the product in the main of German thought, more especially of German philosophical thought subsequent to Kant, but this philo- sophical development really has its source in Leibniz and Wolff, rather than in Kant himself. With respect to psychology, the main characteristic of the whole movement has been the deducing of a psychology from certain metaphysical principles, the psychological product of this method of procedure being best represented in the psychology of Herbart. We may say that one main difference between Scottish philosophy and German philosophy, and consequently between Scottish and German psychology — except experimental and recent — is that, in the former case, a system of metaphysics is deduced from the results of a psychological analysis, while, in the latter, a psychological theory is deduced from metaphysical principles. It is true that Kant's Critical Philosophy on one side finds its beginning in the attempt to answer the contentions of Hume, and therefore in an examination of philosophical conclusions reached from a psychological starting-point. But, though Kant's philosophy may be said to start thus, his whole attitude. 58 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the [CH. point of view, and method are determined' to a much greater extent by Leibniz and Wolff, than by Locke and Hume. The intellectualistic bias of the Kantian philosophy might be re- garded as a result of the influence of Locke and Hume. But the influence in this case is apparent rather than real. Wolff s influence was precisely in the same direction, and the bias was present even before Kant set himself to the solution of the problems raised by Hume. It is by no means certain that future historians of philosophy ■will not regard Leibniz^ as at least equally important with either Kant or Hegel. At all events the Leibnizian philosophy is the key, not only to the Kantian Criticism, and the post- Kantian Idealism, but to certain very characteristic features in the thought of Fichte, to the very interesting philosophical development connected with the names of Schopenhauer and von Hartmann, to certain aspects of Bergson's thought, and, in some measure to the PluraUsm and Pragmatism of to-day. The philosophy of Leibniz started in a reaction against the immobile pantheism of Spinoza. He asserted that real existence is, on the one hand, self-active power, on the other hand? individuaUty. That is, he finds reality in a plurality of self-active monads. With his philosophy as a whole we are not here concerned, but we must rather enquire how he works out a psychology on this basis, and particularly a psychology of the instincts and emotions. Leibniz maintains that the human soul must be regarded as a monad, having the power of 'clear perception,' and by that power transcending the animal mind, though at the same time containing the animal mind. In virtue of the 'clear perceptions,' which we may identify with reason, the human mind brings to knowing certain innate principles, which are the forms of clear cognition. As containing the animal mind, however, the human soul has also 'confused perceptions'— sensations — and, not only so, but also 'obscure perceptions,' perceptions which are imdistinguishable from one another, such as characterize plant Ufe. But we must remember that all the perceptions manifest themselves as self-initiated effort. 1 164&-1716. Ill] Nature and Meaning of Instinct 59 In this aspect, the 'obscure perceptions' correspond to un- conscious impulse, the 'confused perceptions' to instincts, the 'clear perceptions' to rational will. Hence, "since all three grades stand in continuous connection, acts of will are originally formed in the obscure natural impulse^." At the lowest level will is determined by an obscure feeling of discomfort or unrest; at the second level by pleasure and pain; at the highest level by distinct perceptions in the sense of rational knowledge. When he has reached this point, Leibniz becomes more or less intellectualistic, finding happiness and virtue in intellectual enlightenment, the good becoming the content of an enlightened will in precisely the same way as the true of a perfect imderstanding. The parts of this psychology which are interesting to us, and- which we would emphasize, are : in the first place, the central position assigned to self-activity, a self-activity realizing itself as perceptions of difierent degrees of distinctness on the cognitive side, as unconscious impulse, instinct, and will, on the conative: in the second place, the position assigned to 'obscure perceptions* and to unconscious impulse, with the relating of the latter to instinct and will, a clear anticipation of the doctrine of the 'unconscious,' or the 'subconscious,' which was destined to become so prominent later. Under the direct influence of Leibniz, pragmatism imme- diately raised its head in the teaching of Thomasius*, but the main development of the Leibnizian philosophy was through Wolff to Kant, a development almost solely on the intellectual side. For the history of psychology as such Wolffs is import- ant, because he was the first to give the name 'psychology' real currency, because he interpreted Leibniz's "pre-estab- lished harmony' pretty nearly in the sense of our psycho- physical parallelism, and because he did a great deal to put psychology on a scientific footing, and to prepare the way for the work of Herbart, Fechner, and Wundt. As regards the psychology of Instinct he is not significant. Kant* is, from the same point of view, scarcely more ^ Erdmann, History of Philosophy, vol. ii, p. 195. ' 1655-1728. » 1679-1754. ' 1724-1804. 60 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the [CH. significant. It is true that his answer to the empirical atomism of Locke and Hume is conclusive as far as it goes, but that is only so far as it is an analysis of the conditions of knowledge as such^ Wherever the Critical Philosophy becomes a psycho- logy it is at least as inadequate as that of Hume. For, though Kant maintains that experience involves more than a succession of states, since it involves also a permanent identity, and that the principles which constitute the form of experience are, as it were, given by the mind to experience, the experience or knowledge under discussion is abstract, not concrete, is ex- perience or knowledge as such, not the experience or knowledge which psychology investigates: It is true that there is a kind of dynamic taking the place of the static conception of Hume, but the dynamic is a logical or dialectical dynamic, if we may use such a collocation of terms, not the dynamic of living experience. The inadequacy of this conception does not make itself felt, so long as Kant's aim is the solution of merely epistemological problems. It becomes immediately apparent when he turns to ethical problems. The synthetic unity of apperception then becomes a self-determining principle, the dialectical a real dynamic, but the transformation cannot be regarded as consistent with Kantianism as such. The notion of the Ego as self-determining activity became the central principle of Fichte's^ philosophy. In his earlier work, like Kant, Fichte concerned himself with the conditions of knowledge, even maintaining that the philosopher as such has nothing to do with apprehended objects or with the appre- hending subject, leaving these to the psychologist^. As his interest in ethics developed, and his ethical views focussed and defined themselves, this standpoint gradually changed, and he tended more and more to deduce a psychology from his fundamental principles. He gave up the use of the term 'Absolute Ego,' using rather the notion and sometimes the term 'Life*,' and occasionally expressing himself in a way ' Cf. Seth, Hegelianism and Personality, pp. 17 ff. and especially p. 31. 2 1762-1814. ' Erdmann, History of Philosophy, vol. ii, p. 498. * Seth, Hegelianism and Personality, p. 70. Ill] Nature and Meaning of Instinct 61 that is strongly reminiscent of Bergson. "This Life is itselt neither in space nor time ; it is a mere force, pure force without substrate, which is not itself a phenomenon at all, and which cannot be perceived, but which lies at the basis of all possible phenomenal or perceived existence^." With his strong conviction that the destination of man is to be found in action, not in pure thought, Fichte always tended towards the interpretation of this abstract 'Life' as real life, of its force as real force. Thxis, in a final statement of his position, he says: " I ascribe to myself a real active force — a force, which pro- duces being, and which is quite different from the mere faculty of ideas. The ideas or plans, usually called ends or purposes, are not to be considered, like the ideas of cognition, as after- pictures of something given; they are rather fore-pictures, or exemplars of something which is to be produced. The real force, however, does not lie in them; it exists on its own account, and receives from them only its determinate direction, knowledge looking on, as it were, as a spectator of its action^." In this aspect of his thought Fichte may be considered as a fore-runner of Schopenhauer, von Hartmann, Bergson, rather than of Hegel. " The Eternal Will is the creator of the world," he has said. He may not have meant this as a strictly philosophical principle, but Schopenhauer found in the same thought the basis for a new ' idealism,' the very antithesis of Hegelianism. The influence of Schopenhauer^, who gives us a more or less developed philosophy of Instinct, has, through von Hart- mann, considerably affected present-day theories of Instinct in various directions. These two may be regarded as summing up the results of the attempt at a philosophical deduction of the psychology of Instinct. For Schopenhauer, Kant's 'thing-in-itself became Will, the word 'Will' denoting "that which is the inner nature of everything*. " From the side of the intellect, the world is * Seth, Hegelianism and Personality, p. 71, footnote. 2 Seth, op. cit., p. 153. ^ 1788-1860. * Schopenhauer, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung. Translation by Haldane and Kemp, vol. i, p. 153. 62 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the [CH. only Idea^. Its inner reality, however, is teleological activity ; it is Will. Understanding is the subjective correlative of the nature of matter as cause and effect^- The first example of understanding is the perception of the actual world, and "this is throughout knowledge of the cause from the effect'- " The effect which is known immediately is the affection of the animal body, or sensation. Such effects being referred to their causes, the perceptions of objects arise. "At one stroke, the under- standing, by means of its one simple function, changes the dull meaningless sensation into perception*. " Such is Schopen- hauer's psychology of perception. All animals must be considered to have understanding since they perceive objects^. But the sphere of understanding, that is the scope of perception, varies enormously from the lowest to the highest. The difference between the mentality of man and of the lower animals is summed up in a striking passage, of which we cannot resist quoting at least the most important parts. It is reason, Schopenhauer says, that gives man "that thoughtfulness which distinguishes his consciousness so entirely from that of the lower animals, and through which his whole behaviour on earth is so different from that of his irrational fellow-creatures. He far surpasses them in power and also in suffering. They live in the present alone, he lives also in the future and the past. They satisfy the needs of the moment, he provides by the most ingenious preparations for the future, yea for days that he shall never see. They are entirely dependent on the impression of the moment, on the effect of the perceptible motive ; he is determined by abstract conceptions independent of the present. Therefore he follows predetermined plans, he acts from maxims, without reference to his surroundings or the accidental impression of the moment. ...The brute on the other hand is determined by the present impression; only the fear of present compulsion can con- strain its desires, imtil at last this fear has become custom, and as such continues to determine it; this is called training. 1 Schopenhauer, Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, vol. i, p. 5. 2 Op. oit., vol. I, p. 13. ' Op. cit., vol. i, p. 14. * Op. cit., vol. I, p. 14. ' Op. cit., vol. i, p. 26. in] Nature and Meaning of Instinct 63 The brute feels and perceives ; man, in addition to this, thinks and knows; both will.... The brute first knows death when it dies, but man draws consciously nearer to it every hour that he lives. .. .Principally on this account man has philosophies And religions, though it is uncertain whether the qualities we admire most in his conduct... were ever the fruit of either of themi." Schopenhauer makes his transition from the world as Idea to the world as WiU, when he considers the real meaning of the perceived object. This transition, he says, could not be made at all if we were pure knowing subjects. But the body appears to us in two entirely difEerent ways, to our understanding as perceived object, and as "objectified will" in our acts* My body is therefore a condition of my knowledge of my will. "So far as I know my wUl specially as object, I know it as body^." This double knowledge, as Schopenhauer calls it, of the body can be used "as the key to the nature of every phenomenon*." What remains of any object when we set aside its idea is its reality, and that is Will. Moreover, the body being objectified will, "the parts of the body correspond to the principal desires through which the will manifests itself^." Since every kind of "active and operating force in nature" is identified with will, we must conceive will as acting in inor- ganic nature, in the organic and vegetative changes of the animal body, in the "instiact and mechanical skill" of animals, as well as in our own self-conscious nature*. Individuality charac- terizes the higher manifestations of will, but the farther we go from man, the fainter do the traces of individuality become, until in the inorganic world they entirely disappear, except perhaps in the crystal alone'. In the fact that it is one and the same WiU, that reveals itself in all forms, we have the explanation of the analogy that pervades nature, and of the harmony that underlies all, in spite of the perpetual conflict going on between the higher and the lower forms of ' objectified ' Schopenhauer, Die Welt ah Wille und Vorstellung, vol. i, pp. 47-8. ' Op. cit., vol. I, p. 130. ' Op. oit., vol. i, p. 132. ' Op. cit., vol. J, p. 136. *iOp. cit., vol. i, p. 141. « Op. oit., vol. I, p. 143. ' Op. cit., vol. i, p. 171. 64 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the [CH. wilU.' This harmony Schopenhauer speaks of as teleology, both inner and outer, the inner teleology being the relation of all the parts of an organism to one another, the outer, of the particular parts of organized nature to the rest, that is the other parts. Such being the general lines of Schopenhauer's system of thought, what has he to say of Instinct from the point of view of the philosophy of Will? In the case of animal life, he says, the will may be set in motion in two ways, either from with- out or from within, through motivation or through instinct^. This contrast is not an absolute one, for the operation of a motive depends on an 'inner tendency,' that is, 'a definite quality of will, which we call the character.' The motive 'individualizes' this character for the concrete case. In the same way. Instinct "does not act entirely like a spring from within." Its action depends upon some external circumstance which determines it. Hence, even where such action is most mechanical, though it is primarily dependent on Instinct, it is yet 'subordinated to intellect.' The instinct "gives the uni- versal, the rule ; the intellect the particular, the application." "Instinct is a character which is only set in motion by a quite sfecially determined motive," while the character of will gene- rally may be set in motion by very different motives^. Hence determination of action by Instinct only involves a limited sphere of knowledge, and as much intelligence as is necessary to apprehend the one special motive*. On the other hand, the difference between this mechanical tendency of instinct and ordinary organic processes in animals is, that, in the latter case, the will acts "perfectly blindly, in its primary condition^." The working for the future, the anticipation of an end, which we see both in the organic pro- cesses and in the instinctive activities of animals, might be brought under the conception of 'a knowledge a priori,' if knowledge 'lay at their foundation at all.' But this is not the case. "Their source lies deeper than the sphere of know- ledge, in the will, as the thing-in-itself, which as such remains 1 Schopenhauer, Die Welt ala Wille und Vorstdlung, vol. i, p. 201. " Op. oit., vol. Ill, p. 96. ' Op. cit., vol. m, p. 97. * Op. cit., vol. Ill, p. 98. ' Op. oit., vol. in, p. 101. Ill] Nature and Meaning of Instinct 65 free even from the /orms of knowledge ; therefore with reference to it time has no significance^." E. von Hartmann's^ philosophy is not essentially difierent from Schopenhauer's, though it is an attempt to reconcile Schopenhauer with Schelling and Hegel. The reconciliation is effected by placing alongside of Schopenhauer's unconscious Will the unconscious Idea. For von Hartmann the Absolute, or, as he calls it, the Unconscious, is not only Will, but it is also Idea. "The imconscious Will of Nature eo ipso presupposes an unconscious Idea, as goal, content, or object of itself^." Instinct is one of the most important and familiar manifes- tations of the Unconscious, both as Will and as Idea. Von Hartmann gives us two definitions of Instinct. It is " purposive action without consciousness of the purpose*," and it is "con- scious willing of the means to an unconsciously willed end^." The second of these definitions is, however, merely an alterna- tive statement and fuller explanation of the first. Three possible accounts or explanations of Instinct, he says, are apparently available. We may explain it, "as a mere consequence of corporeal organization," or "as a cerebral or mental mechanism," or as "a result of unconscious mental activity*." He rejects the first and second views as inadequate, and incapable of accounting for the facts. Instinct must be regarded as conscious willing, as volition, not as mere mechanism, and conscious willing, conditioned by an unconscious purpose and not a mere unconscious mechanism. There are two marks by which we can distinguish volition from the mechanism of reflex action. First of all there is emotion; secondly there is "consistency in carrying out the intention''." Both marks characterize the instinctive actions of animals. But conscious willing cannot itself explain Instinct. Instinct must also involve "imconscious ideation and volition," an imconscious purpose*, because nothing else will explain the ' Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, vol. m, p. 104. 2 1842-1906. ' E. V. Hartmann, Philosophy of the Unconscious (translation by Coupland), vol. r, p. 39. « Op. cit., vol. I, p. 79. 5 Op. oit., vol. i, p. 88. • Op. oit., vol. I, p. 79. ' Op. oit., vol. i, p. 61. » Op. oit., vol. I, p. 88. 66 Philosophical and Scientijic Views of the [cH. connection between the sensuous presentation as motive, and the "conscious will to some particular action." There must be some causal connection, and this causal connection does not arise from experience. The pleasure that follows has nothing to do with the will to act instinctively^. On the other hand, the derivation of the "willed end" from conscious rational activity is radically hopeless^, when we think of the high grade of intelligence, that would be necessarily involved in such rational activity, to account for the results in the instinctive actions of the lowest organisms. The unconscious knowledge, which underlies Instinct, is of the nature of "clairvoyance," and manifests itself as "clair- voyant intuition*." In the case of the human being this clairvoyant intuition is also present, but always with a "reverberation" in consciousness, and sometimes as "pure idea," without conscious will*. Clairvoyance may occur apart from Instinct. They are two distinct facts. But clairvoyance alone will explain the nature of Instinct-knowledge^- This clairvoyant intuition is "the characteristic attribute of the Unconscious*." Summing up', von Hartmann finds that Instinct is not the result of conscious reflection, nor of corporeal, cerebral, or mental mechanisms, but of the conscious activity of the indi- vidual, "springing from his inmost nature and character"; that the end, towards which the activity is directed, is not conceived by an external mind, a Providence, but "uncon- sciously willed and imagined " by the individual, and the suitable means imconsciously chosen ; and that the knowledge involved in this unconscious cognition, which is frequently such as could not be obtained from sense perception, is of the nature of clairvoyant intuition. It is necessary that the instinctive action itself should be vividly realized in consciousness, in order that the necessary accuracy of execution should be secured, but it is the execution only that is conscious. ^ Philosophy of the Unconscious, vol. i, p. 87. 2 Op. oit., vol. I, p. 93. ' Op. oit., vol. i, p. 106. * Op. oit., vol. 1, p. 107. = Op. oit., vol. i, p. 114. « Op. oit., vol. I, p. lU. ' Op. oit., vol. i, p. 113. Ill] Nature cmd Mea/ning of Instinct 67 Von Hartmann divides human instincts into two groups, those relating to physical, and those relating to psychical needs^, and enumerates a great number, especially of those belonging to the first group. The capricious appetites of the sick, the "curative instincts" of children, the fear of falhng, the instinct to suck, the distinguishing of " genuine from feigned friendship*," the fear of death, shame, disgust^, love of dress on the part of girls*, play^, sympathy®, gratitude and retalia- tion', maternal love*, sexual love', may be cited as examples. He also anticipates ui a rather significant way, and more fully than Malebranche, the view of play, which we attribute to Karl Groos, who indeed was considerably influenced by von Hartmann. Play appears as a "presaging instinct," which guides children and the young of animals to the exercise of the activities they will require in future, and thus "trains them in advance." Play is, therefore, "unconsciously subservient to the aims of the future life." A fuller accotmt is given of the clairvoyant intuition of Instinct in the second volume of the Philosophy of the Uncon- scious. Unconscious ideation, of which the unconscious know- ledge of Instinct is a particular case, is of such a kind that the ordinary consciousness can form no conception of it, save negatively from what it is not. It is not afiected by sickness or fatigue^"; it has not the form of sensibility^^; it does not hesitate, or doubt, or err^*. The thought of the Unconscious is timeless and non-temporal; the "coming-to-manifestation" of its result is alone in time^^. "WiU and representation are united in inseparable unity^*." On the other hand, conscious thought makes possible "the emancipation of the intellect from the mH." While the apparent errors of Instinct are errors of consciousness, not of the Unconscious, it must also be remembered, that all progress depends upon the expansion of the sphere where consciousness prevails, because this makes '^ Philosophy of the Unconsci(ms,Yol. i,p. 205. ' Op. cit., vol. i, p. 205. ' Op. cit., vol. I, p. 206. * Op. cit., vol. i, p. 208. B Op. cit., vol. I, p. 207. • Op. cit., vol. i, p. 210. ' Op. cit., vol. I, p. 211. « Op. cit., vol. i, p. 212. » Op. cit., vol. I, 220. " Op. cit., vol. ii, p. 47. ii Op. cit., vol. II, p. 48. 12 Op. cit., vol. ii, pp. 50-51. " Op. cit., vol. II, p. 51. " Op. cit., vol. ii, p. 55. 5—2 68 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the, [ch. possible the "liberation of consciousness from the sway of passion and interest," that is of WilP. Lastly the function of Instinct in Nature, inclusive of human life, is threefold. "Every unconscious idea is accom- panied by imconscious will, which represents the general will of self-preservation, and preservation of the species^." That is to say there are two main ends which instincts subserve, preservation of the self and preservation of the race. But there is a third end, especially important as regards humanity. That is the "perfection and ennoblement of the species*." The progress of the human race, individual, social, and national, the appreciation of the beautiful, the development of science and philosophy, the satisfaction of the deeper spiritual needs of the heart, all derive their driving force, their interest and win, from the Will and Idea of the Unconscious. The main interest of this development of thought culmina- ting in von Hartmann's philosophy of the "Unconscious" is perhaps philosophical rather than psychological. Philosophic- ally it is an assertion of the ultimate psychical nature of Instinct, and of the impossibiUty of explaining, not merely the manifesta- tions of Instinct, but Instinct itself in any but psychical terms. But, since this impossibility is asserted, not only of Instinct, but of all natural forces whatsoever, it is not clear how the assertion helps the psychologist very much. On the other hand, the notion of the 'unconscious,' as the 'subcon- scious,' has been a very fruitful one for abnormal psychology, and, through Freud and his school, by a kind of 'total reflec- tion,' as it were, has, in recent times, affected other aspects of the psychology of Instinct. Apart from this, the notion of 'clairvoyant intuition,' as characteristic of Instinct-Know- ledge, has received further emphasis in the thought of Bergson and his followers*. How far these two psychological deducfcons from philosophical principles ought to be permitted to modify our psychology of Instinct, we shall require to consider later. ' Philosophy 0/ the Unconscious, vol. 11, p. 59. " Op. cit., vol. II, p. 55. ' Op. oit., vol. II, p. 56. * While this is passing through the press, a new work on Instinct has appeared, in which a theory very like that of v. Hartmann is developed, the interesting book, What is Instincts, by 0. Bingham Newland. Ill] Nature and Meaming of Instinct 69 The development of natural science, from about the middle of the eighteenth century onwards, brought upon the scene other views of Instinct, involving a discussion and interpreta- tion of the phenomena from an entirely different point of view — from two different points of view, in fact, as we shall see presently. We must remember, however, that, apart from the purely biological aspect of Instinct, the views we have already considered have also influenced the views of the physio- logist and the biologist, Schopenhauer's and von Hartmann's more or less directly, the psychology of the Scottish School through Cabanis and the phrenologists. The influence has really been mutual, an influence of physiological and biological study on psychological and philosophical conceptions, an influence of psychology and philosophy on physiological and biological conceptions of Instinct. Physiological psychology had made a strong bid for recog- nition as the only scientific psychology by the middle of the eighteenth century. Hartley's^ Observations on Man and Bonnet's^ Contemplation de la Nature were published almost contemporaneously just before the middle of the century, while Bonnet's more important work, the Essai analytique sur les facuMs de I'dme, appeared in 1760. Von Haller's' Elementa physiologiae humani corporis saw the light about the same time. Swammerdam*, the Dutch naturalist, had done im- portant biological work, as, for example, in the study of insects, a century earlier. There were two directions in which the work done in physiology and biology contributed to a clearer and fuller knowledge of Instinct. On the one hand, there was a contri- bution, mainly physiological, developing as a pure physiology of the brain and nervous system, and influencing psychology through phrenology, and later through the physiological psychology of the present day. On the other hand, there was a more important contribution, mainly biological, developing, more especially during the nineteenth century, through the various theories of evolution into a comparative study of the physiology and psychology of living organisms, and represented 1 1705-1757. ^ 1720-1793. ' 1708-1777. ' 1637-1680. 70 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the [CH. in the psychology of to-day by Comparative and Social Psychology^. The physiological psychology of the earlier physiologists. Hartley and the rest, was in the main a somewhat crude attempt to express the psychology of Locke in physiological terms. Equally crude was the attempt made by Erasmus Darwin^ towards the end of the same century. The first really scientific physiological psychology made its appearance in the Traite du fhysique et du moral de I'homme of Cabanis*, published for the first time as a separate work in 1802. Cabanis starts from the conception of 'sensibility' as a general and characteristic property of all living organisms. He tries to show how all the higher intellectual processes are evolved from 'sensibility,' how they all depend upon organic conditions, and also to determine the organic conditions. His explanation was, therefore, intended to be an explanation throughout in physiological rather than psychological terms, science not 'metaphysics.' His aim was to show how ideas, instincts, passions, depend upon, are modified by, and involve only physiological conditions. Lewes quotes* a very interesting example of the method of Cabanis, as applied to Instinct, what he calls Cabanis' experi- mental proof of the fact that an instinct is developed by certain organic conditions. An artificial maternal love is, according to this accoimt, produced in a capon by plucking off the feathers from his abdomen, rubbing the abdomen with nettles and vinegar, and then placing the capon on eggs for hatchiag. This artificial instinct, it is said, not only endures till the chickens are hatched, but until they no longer need care and protection. The attempt of Cabanis, in spite of the defects of both his physiology and his psychology', must receive due recognition, as a genuine attempt, prompted by the true scientific spirit, ^ 'Social Psychology' is here nsed in the widest sense. " 1731-1802. Zoonomia, pubhshed 1794-6. 3 1767-1808. ' Biographical Histnry of Philosophy, p. 627. ' Cabanis defines Instinct as "Le produit des excitations dent les stimulus s'appliquent k I'int^rieur." See Bostock, Elementary System, of Physiology , vol. m, p. 228. Ill] Nature and Meaning of Instinct 71 to interpret the facts of experience in terms of physiological processes, and to develop a scientific psychology on the basis of physiology. The kind of recognition we ought to give to another and somewhat analogous attempt, viz. phrenology, is more doubtful. Nevertheless phrenology and the work of the phrenologists may justly be regarded as really more im- portant than the work of Cabanis. C. S. Sherrington^ speaks rather slightingly of the work of Gall^ and implicatively of the whole phrenology movement. We cannot entirely share his views. Gall was certainly more than half charlatan, as were many of his followers, and Cranioscopy can claim no respect from the scientist. But Spurzheim' and Combe* were not charlatans, and phrenology as such was not only very significant historically, but it exercised an important influence on the development of psychology, of educational theory, and • to an even greater extent of physiology. In order duly to appreciate the historical position of the phrenologists, we must carefully avoid the error, into which most psychologists, apparently following James ^, seem to have fallen. The modus operandi of the phrenologist's reasoning cannot fairly be described as merely classifying the various psychical phenomena, hypostatizing the class names as powers, and then assigning these powers distinct organs in different parts of the brain. It is true that this line of argiunent holds against phrenology to the extent to which the phrenologists adopt the 'faculty psychology.' But it quite ignores the real historical position and significance of phrenology. No doubt the psychology of Gall was of the nondescript order, containing elements of Aristotelian and mediaeval psy- chology, of the psychology of Locke and Hartley, as well as of the psychology of Reid, Stewart, and the Scottish School. Under these circumstances, if we are disposed to criticise destructively, it is, as one would expect, a very easy matter to criticise the psychology of the early phrenologists. But we ought to discriminate. In order to come to a clear ' Article "Brain" in Encyclopaedia Brilannica, 11th ed. 2 1758-1828. ' 1778-1832. * 1788-1858. ' Principles of Psychology, vol. i, p. 28. 72 Philosophical cmd Scientific Views of the [CH. and definite decision regarding the merits and demerits of this early nineteenth century development of thought, in order to reach a just evaluation of the work done, we must seek to understand what the phrenologists were reaUy trying to do. What was their problem ? How did they set about its solution ? These are the questions that must be asked and answered. Like Cabanis the phrenologists were attempting to develop a physiological psychology. But their method of approach was different. It was also different from the method of approach to psychology adopted by physiological biologists like Bonnet and Erasmus Darwin. The notion of 'natural law,' very prominent in Combe^, and underlying the thought development as a whole in its typical manifestations, implies the conception of nature as a mechanism through and through, a mechanism contrived for the purposes of the Author of Nature. The 'laws of nature' are the laws which regulate action and reaction among things in the inorganic world, and similarly action and reaction among living things, every thing and every organism acting in accordance with the constitution bestowed upon it. In virtue of its constitution each thing has certain powers of acting with regard to other things. All objects, therefore, are regarded as manifesting distinct forces, each acting according to the laws of its nature^. The laws of nature apply in the intellectual and moral life of man, as in animal life, and as in the inorganic world. Turning now to the human being, we find that he has a definite constitution expressing itself in definite activities, the activities being the actions of the various powers, forces, or faculties of man. The same holds of animals, only man has certain powers or faculties which animals have not got. As regards the life processes, each power is represented in the activity of a definite organ. The same ought to hold of the mental and moral faculties of man, the animal propensities of man and the lower animals. Hence the problem arises of determining the organs, corresponding to the mental and moral faculties of man. '^ See Constitution 0/ Man, Introduction. ^ Loo. cit. Ill] Nature cmd Mecming of Instinct 73 The preliminary problem of determiniag the various mental and moral powers or faculties does not seem to have presented itself as a problem at all. Herein, we might say, consists the first error of phrenology. But it must be remembered that there were certain forces, recognized by the psychologists of the time as real forces, impelling man to act in definite ways, expressions of the constitution bestowed upon him by the Divine Author of his being. These forces were the instinctive tendencies, the 'animal propensities,' common to man and the lower animals^- To these were added, more or less arbitrarily, powers or faculties, in virtue of which man was able to know, compare, and reflect upon objects, together with powers or faculties, representing sentiments, or qualities of character or will. All were equally regarded as due to the functioning of certain organs, and the problem was to find the respective organs. The chief human instincts, recognized by the phrenologists, were sexual love (amativeness), parental love (philo-progeni- tiveness), the gregarious instinct (adhesiveness), pugnacity (combativeness), destructiveness, appetite for food, acquisi- tiveness, constructiveness, self-esteem, love of approbation, wonder, and imitation. This list is strongly suggestive of the development of introspective psychology we have already studied, and is additional evidence of the extent to which this psychology had become the current psychology of the early nineteenth century. It is evident from this account of the underlying ideas of phrenology that the criticisms, levelled and vahd against the 'faculty psychology,' are not necessarily valid against phren- ology, as such. Animal propensities, instinctive tendencies, may quite legitimately be conceived as forces, without any hypostatization of general terms, and the search for a corre- sponding organ seems a quite legitimate , scientific problem. It is true that the search was conducted very unscientifically, and that, while pretending to have succeeded, it really failed. But the failure to solve the problem, they set out to solve, must not be attributed to the phrenologists, as a crime against reason and common sense. ^ Constitution of Man, chap, ii, section iii. 74 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the [CH. It is interesting to see how phrenology was related to the orthodox physiology of the day. Take first Magendie^. Magendie's psychology was essentially that of Cabanis. The phenomena of human intelligence he regarded as simply functions of the brain^, and, as such, capable of being studied only by "observation and experience." The phenomena of the intellect were merely modifications of the 'faculty of per- ception,' and he recognized four chief modifications : sensibility, memory, judgment, and desire or will. Magendie himself made an important contribution to our knowledge of the physical basis of sensibility in his determination of the difference in fimction between the anterior and posterior nerve roots. As a result of his own work, and that of other physiologists like Rolando and Flourens, he finds no difi&culty in localizing the principal seats of the special senses in the cerebrum and lower centres. With these results of physiological investigation the phrenologists seem to have been very imperfectly acquainted. As regards memory, Magendie makes no attempt to localize it', but refers in a curious, facing-two-ways footnote to the attempts of the "pseudo-science" phrenology, attempts "laudable in themselves, but hitherto unable to bear examination^." Instincts are defined by Magendie as "propensities, inclina- tions, wants, by which animals are constantly excited and forced to fulfil the intentions of nature*." An instinctive feeling, which has become "extreme and exclusive," is a passion. Again in this connection, in a footnote, there is allusion to the problem, at least, of phrenology, when he says: "This should be the proper place to treat of the different parts of the brain in regard to the imderstanding and instincts.... I have been engaged at intervals on experiments directed to this point, and will make the results known, as soon as they appear worthy of public notice^.". » 1 1783-1855. ' Magendie, Elementary Compendium of Physiology. Translation by E. MiUigan, p. 109. Fourth edition, Edinburgh, 1831. » Op. eit., p. 113. * Op. eit., p. 116. Magendie's own words are: — "des penchants, des inclinations, des besoins, au moyen desquels ils sont oontinuellement excites et mSme forces h, remplir les intentions de la nature." (El. Phys. t. i, p. 207.) e Op. eit., p. 118. hi] Nature cmd Meaning of Instinct 75 Take another physiologist, Bostock, who approaches the matter from a different point of view. He devotes a whole chapter to a serious examination of the claims of phrenology^, and, though he comes to the conclusion that the claims are not substantiated, there is no ridicule. Bostock's own psy- chology was eclectic, derived, mainly from Hartley, Reid, and Dugald Stewart, but he does not' hesitate to speak of powers and faculties, and he also attempts to localize them. His definition of Instinct is in terms of capacity — "a capacity for performing, by means of the voluntary organs, certain actions, which conduce to some useful purpose, but of which purpose the animal is itself ignorant^." This later becomes sometimes a motive, sometimes a faculty, and is localized, in a tentative way, in the lower brain centres'. Bostock too has evidently a problem which is not essentially different from that of the phrenologists. The fact is, that, with the generally prevailing view of Instinct, and the stage of development reached by the physio- logical study of the brain and nervous system, the physiologist could not help having some such problem as the phrenologist had. The rapidity with which evidence against the conclusions of phrenology accumulated is itself a remarkable proof of the extent to which phrenology influenced the direction of physio- logical investigation. As real knowledge of the cerebral cortex extended, the motley array of faculties, with which the phreno- logists wrought, fell more and more into the background. Nevertheless Carpenter, in his Mental Physiology, still in 1874 localized the instincts in the 'sensory ganglia*,' just as he had done thirty years earlier in his Human Physiology^. At the present day the physiologist is generally inclined to be more cautious, and merely to view Instinct in a somewhat vague way as an innate nervous arrangement, mechanism, or disposition. But, after all, the notion of such an organ, as subserving instinctive activity, is not essentially different from the notion of a definite part of the brain, as the organ performing ^ An Elementary System, of Physiology, vol. m, chap. xix. " Op. cit., vol. Ill, p. 228. ' Op. cit., vol. in, p. 232. * Carpenter, Mental Physiology, p. 81. « Human Physiology (4th ed., 1846), p. 375. 76 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the [cH. the same function. Nor is there any need to assume that this notion, in itself, and physiologically regarded, is an erro- neous one. Error will only arise, when, and if, we attempt to explain Instinct psychologically as the functioning of this or any such organ. The importance of the development of biology for the psychology of Instinct has a double source. In the first place, this development led to an enormous increase in the facts of animal life bearing upon Instinct, which were made available for psychological interpretation. The development of com- parative psychology is by no means bovmd up with the evolu- tion theory, Lamarokian or Darwinian, except perhaps in so far as it depends upon the recognition of essential continuity between animal and human miud. Important work had been done before the beginning of the nineteenth century, that is, before there was any evolution theory in our modern meaning of evolution^, by Bonnet, Reimarus^, BufEon^, Cuvier*, and others. The same kind of work, leading to an accumulation of facts belonging to animal psychology, went on with increased zeal under the stimulus of the evolution theory, and such work, represented at its best by Lubbock (Lord Avebury), Darwin, Fabre, the Peckhams, has a value for psychology, independent of any value it may have for a biological theory. In the second place, the psychological interpretation of Instinct was supplemented by the biological. This was more especially the work of the evolutionists, but this too had its beginning in pre-evolution biology. The common, though erroneous, view, that the biological account of Instinct can take the place of the psychological, has been discussed above ^. It is true that some of the biological theories of Instinct leave no place for the psychological account, but such theories are not now the theories generally accepted. This erroneous view seems to have originated from the fact that many biologists, both of the pre-evolution and of the evolution period, have actively sought to combat a view of ' See article "Evolution" in Encyc. Brit., Uth ed. 2 1694-1768. ' 1707-1788. * 1769-1832. ' See chap, i, Introduction. hi] Nature and Meaning of Instinct 77 Instinct, which has apparently been mistaken for the psycho- logical, but which ought rather to be called the religious- metaphysical, or, as Karl Groos calls it, the "transcendental- teleologicaP." The success of these biologists in their con- troversy is somewhat problematical, but at any rate, they have very successfully suggested that their view of Instinct was a new view to be substituted for this antiquated one, so successfully that, at the present day, the suggestion is generally accepted without any careful examination of the rights and wrongs of the controversy. What then is this religious-metaphysical view of Instinct? There is more than a suspicion of it in many of the views of Instinct we have discussed, more particularly perhaps in those of Hume, von Hartmann, the phrenologists, but the clearest, and at the same time the popidar, form of this view is admir- ably expressed in Addison's definition of Instinct, quoted by Romanes^: — "I look upon instinct as upon the principle of graAritation in bodies, which is not to be explained by any known qualities inherent in the bodies themselves, nor from any laws of mechanism, but as an immediate impression from the first mover and divine energy acting in the creatures^." In so far as such a view shuts the door against any scientific study of Instinct, it is of course quite inadmissible, and the psychologist, equally with the biologist, must protest. But, in so far as such a view represents a philosophical or ultimate view of Instinct, it does not appear that biology can touch it at all. If there is such a thing as Instinct, the ultimate philosophical account of it is, as we have tried to show, in an entirely different category from the scientific biological account. The most direct attack upon this religious-metaphysical view of Instinct consisted in the denial or rejection of such a conception altogether. Among older biologists Erasmus Darwin, and among more modern Brehm*, Buchner^, Bain*, if we may ' The Play of Animals, Engl. Trans., p. 26. ' Animal Intelligence, p. 11. ' See&\Bo^irhy,Histmy,Habits,andInstinctsofAnimals(l&iS),a,TaATSevi\3,T[iA, What is Instinct? (Lond. 1916), for views which tend in a similar direction. * Thierleben, vol. i, p. 20. 5 Aus dem Geistesleben der Thiere, Engl. Trans., by Annie Besant. * The Senses and the Intellect, 3rd ed. p. 409. But see also The Emotions and the Will, pp. 53 and 613. 78 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the [oh. count him, and at one 'time Alfred Russel Wallace^, have taken this line of attack in one form or another. In some cases the ■ attack has been directed mainly against the notion of an innate and unerring knowledge, and Biichner more especially empha- sizes in this connection the mistakes of Instinct, in others against the notion of a divine origin. Alfred Russel Wallace for a time took the view that so-called instinctive actions could be explained as a result of imitation and experience. After the publication of Darwin's Origin of Sfecies most biologists abandoned this line of thought, though some of the more extreme opponents of the religious-metaphysical view con- tinued to urge the desirability of ceasing to employ the term ' instinct,' and most of them saw in Darwin's ' natural selection' a complete explanation of Instinct, which of course it is not. What of the biological account itself? The history of its development is the history of the modern evolution theory. The evolution theories of the eighteenth century, though they prepared the way, were entirely superseded by the evolution theory of Lamarck, which first saw the light in the early years of the nineteenth century^ The fundamental principle of this theory is the inheritance of characteristics acquired through functional adjustment to an environment. Between the publication of the Philosophie zoologique and 1858, when Darwin and Wallace published their Theory of Natural Selection, the notion of evolution, though frowned upon by the orthodox and 'respectable' zoologists, kept appearing every now and again in one form or another, and, with the year 1859, when the Origin of Species came, the modern theory of evolution may be regarded as definitely established in biology. Accord- ing to this theory changes in the organic world, like changes in the inorganic, take place in accordance with law ; these changes include the gradual development and differentiation of the ^ Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection. ^ Lamarck first indicated his theory of evolution in 1801, and in his Philo- sophie zoologique, published in 1809, he formulated the theory in detail. Trevi- ranus apparently arrived at a theory of evolution independently and almost simultaneously, his Biologie (at least the first volume) which contained the theory appearing in 1802. See art. "Evolution" in Encyc. Brit., Uth ed. Ill] Nature mid Meaning of Instinct 79 various species of animal life; among the animal characters, and not the least important, which have been so developed and differentiated, is Instinct. The evolution theories of Lamarck and Darwin really represent two different accounts of Instinct. According to the former Instinct is originally a character, consciously acquired, and established as a habit, in successful adaptation to an environment, and then transmitted to descendants, the inherited character being subsequently modified by new successful adaptations, which are in turn transmitted. A complex instinct is thus due to a number of successful adapta- tions, made at different times in the history of the race, and transmitted as gradually changing 'race habit.' In other words Instinct is largely "lapsed intelligence^." According to the Darwinian view, on the other hand. Instinct is due mainly to the operation of natural selection upon accidental or spon- taneous variations. The 'lapsed intelligence' view of Instinct, in some form or another, is adopted by Ribot, by Preyer*, by Wundt^ by Schneider*, by Herbert Spencer and others. Darwin admits it as a possible view of the origin of some instincts but lays chief stress upon natural selection. Romanes follows Darwin, and distinguishes the two kinds of instinct as 'primary' and 'secondary^.' More recently the whole notion of the inheritance of acquired characteristics has been assailed, notably by Weismann^, and on grounds so strong, that biologists of the present day are inclined to give up the theory of 'lapsed intelligence' altogether, and to explain Instinct, as regards its origin, through the operation of natural selection alone. There are, however, still some difficulties, which seem to point to some kind of inheritance of acquired characteristics after all. To meet these difficulties, H. F. Osborn, Lloyd Morgan, and J. M. Baldwin have, still ' Lewes, Problems 0/ Life and Mind. Ribot, VHiridiU psychologique. * Die Seele des Kindes. ' Vorlesungen iiber die Menschen- und Tierseele. * Der thierische Wille, p. 146. Der menschliche Wille, p. 68. * Mental Evolution in Animals, p. 178. ' Die Continuitdt des Keimplasmas. Das Keimplasma. 80 Philosophical and Scientific Views of the [CH. more recently, elaborated a theory of 'organic selection^,' which reintroduces the factor of individual adjustment, and is otherwise very important in throwing a light upon the operation of natural selection in the case of societies rather than individuals. This theory is based upon the notion of possible coincidence in tendency between congenital variations and adaptive modifications, developed during an individual's lifetime. Such adaptive modifications are those which are produced in the individual because of their suitableness to a particular environment, by his conscious adjustment to that environment. Even though the adaptive modifications may not be transmitted, the coincident congenital variations are, and the operation of natural selection in the ordinary sense may therefore tend to be greatly modified in the long run, through the cumulative influence of particular elements, in the social milieu, for example, with which the individual, in the course of his life, may require to keep in adjustment. To some extent the same kind of modifications would be produced in this way, as if acquired modifications were transmitted. It is partly through this 'organic selection' that 'social heredity,' as Baldwin has called it, operates. Such may be considered to be the general outcome of the biological account of the development of instincts, and the fundamental importance of Darwin's work must be recognized. But Darwin did not attempt a biological account of Instinct itself, in fact, deliberately avoids the issue^, that is, he did not define the view which the biologist, as such, must take of the nature of Instinct. Consequently, though all biologists are now practically agreed as to the general mode in which instincts originate and develop, there is by no means agreement with regard to the view which the biologist ought to take of Instinct. Two views are still in the field. On the one hand is. the view of those who, while not denying that intelligence may cooperate with Instinct in certain cases, hold that "the idea of conscious- ness must be rigidly excluded from any definition of instinct » See Science, 1896, April 23rcl, 1897; Nature, April 15th, 1897; Groos, Play of Animali (trans. ), p. 329 ; Mental Demlopment in the Child and the Bace ; Social and ISthical Interpretations. 2 Origin of Species (5th ed., 1869), p. 255. in] Nature and Meaning of Instinct 81 that is to be of practical utility^." On the other hand is the view of Romanes and those who think with him, that Instinct cannot be distinguished from reflex action, unless the idea of consciousness or experience is introduced. The dispute seems to arise partly from the old difficulty of the knowledge apparently involved in Instinct, and partly from the fact that the psycho- logists have taken a share in the discussion, and are, many of them, now as eager to exclude the term 'instinct' from psy- chology, as the biologists, not very long since, were eager to exclude it from biology. Leaving some of these points for discussion later, in so far as they are psychological points, we may, in the meantime, simply sum up the result of both the physiological and the ■biological developments of the nineteenth century in a definition of Instinct, which will represent both physiology and biology, and which, as far as it goes, would probably be accepted by both physiologist and biologist. Such a definition may be worded thus : — As a factor determining the behaviour of living ' organisms, Instinct, physiologically regarded, is a congenital predisposition of the nervous system, consisting in a definite, but within limits modifiable, arrangement and coordination of nervous connections, so that a particular stimulus, with or without the presence of certain cooperating stimuli, will call forth a particular action or series of actions ; this predisposition, biologically regarded, is apparently due to the operation of natural selection, and determines a mode of behaviour, which secures a biologically useful end, without foresight of that end| or experience in attaining it. Such a definition appears to represent in a fairly satisfactory way the outcome of the physiological and biological study of Instinct, and leaves the psychological questions as open as possible. • Karl Groos, The Play of Animals (Engl, trans.), p. 62. CHAPTER IV THE PSYCHOLOGICAL NATURE OF INSTINCT— THE 'KNOWLEDGE' OP INSTINCT Modern Philosophy, so far as it has been psychological, has largely confined itself to the study of cognition, and twice in the course of its history has led to its own reductio ad absur- dum. The "ideal system" of Descartes, as Reid cabled it, led to the scepticism of Hume; the new beginning in cognition of an essentially similar philosophy, in the Critical Philosophy of Kant, led to the Absolutism of Hegel, which must equally be regarded as its refutation. Reid sought to escape Hume's scepti- cism by a new starting-point in what he rather unfortunately called " Common Sense," just as Schopenhauer sought to escape Hegelianism by a new start in the notion of reality as "Will," rather than as "Idea." It will be noticed that, in all cases, psychological notions seem to have afforded the basis for an ultimate metaphysic. So accustomed have we become to this way of looking at philosophy, that it comes as a genuine shock of surprise to find Bergson founding his philosophy upon biological, rather than psychological, conceptions. Bergson's philosophy may nevertheless be a genuine advance in the direction in which Modern Philosophy was moving. A few years ago it seemed as if the Critical Philosophy represented the culmination of the philosophical thought of the modern world. To-day it is becoming ever clearer that the Critical Philosophy, if it was not a false step, was at any rate a side issue in post-Renaissance thought, and that the real achievement of Modern Philosophy is stiU to come. Moreover, there is increasing likelihood that, when this achievement does come, it will be apparent that Reid's "Common Sense," Schopenhauer's "Will" and Bergson's "Life Impulse" have been as significant advances as Kant's transcendental principles. OH. iv] The ' Knowledge ' of Instinct 83 However that may be, there can be no doubt that the return of psychology to the study of the whole of experience, instead of one aspect of it, and that an aspect which has no meaning apart from the rest, is full of promise for psychology, if not for philosophy. The reductio ad absurdum of philosophy was no less a reductio ad absurdum of psychology, if psychology is the science of experience as such, and of experience as determining behaviour. The psychology, which set out'from thought in isolation, returned to thought in isolation, but did not seem ever to reach experience in its life setting. We must regard Fichte's and Schopenhauer's as valuable attempts to get to living experience, but the psychology itself was not wrought out as a psychology. At the present time we seem to have a still more fundamental starting-point offered us in the "life i mpulse ^of Bergson. a starting-point that is behind theEgo7and behind WilL It is necessary, before accepting such a starting-point, to determine whether psychology can adopt as its starting-point something which describe as 'worthwhUeness.' With this view of Instinct, let us next attempt to give a more detailed accoimt of the various elements involved in the 'instinct-experience,' and to solve some of the difficulties, which recent discussions of Instinct have revealed and made prominent. We may appropriately begin with the cognitive element. The nature of the cognitive element will be best brought out by a consideration, first of all, of the view of Instinct put forward by Bergson^, which however does not differ very materially from the view of Instinct we have already described as von Hartmanp's. Bergson seems to have set out from some such notion of Instinct as ours, but, apparently under the influence of the long-standing and popular opposition between Instinct and Intelligence, he finally reaches the position that Instinct and Intelligence represent entirely different developments ~oI~con- scious life, the most characteristic difference between them beingTibe different kinds of 'knowledge' which they represent, or which constitute their content. This difference in kind of knowledge is analogous to, if not identical with, the difference between intuitive and conceptual knowledge. In order to understand this position psychologically, it seems necessary to get a clear idea of what is to be understood by 'intuitive knowledge.'* The claim is that Instinct and 1 This term is used in a sense analogous to that in which Sherrington uses 'nervous" and "cerebral integration." See Integrative Action of the Nervous System, especially Lect. ix. ' Creative Evolution, chap. II. 90 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. Intelligence mediate different orders of knowledge. Apparently then we must seek to determine the psychological nature of intuitive knowledge, that is of intuition, for only here is there a psychological problem at all. That the one knowledge is reached as a result of experience, and the activity of Intelligence working on experience, and the other knowledge is a knowledge, which is not based upon experience at all, though it determines experience, is a contention which can only be met by the psychologist, after he has examined, in the first place, the process called 'intuition,' and, in the second place, the so- called 'Jntmtiacejmowledge^^oflnstinct. What is intuition from the psychological point of view? Is it a way of knowing reahty, difierent from other ways, and sui generisl That is apparently our first question. Intro- spection ought to be able to settle the matter once for aU, so far as 'intuition' describes a certain mode of experienciag. Intuition, we all agree, is direct apprehension of some reality, of some real situation. Perception is also direct apprehension of a real object or situation. Is there any difference between the two? As ordinarily used and understood, intuition certainly involves more than perception, as bare cognition. Intuition is always perception of that thing in particular, which at the particular moment is the one thing needed, and hence the peculiar 'satisfyingness,' which is so characteristic of it. Let us take some examples of intuition. A sudden situation presents itself in perceptual experience; we apprehend 'intui- tively' the very object, which meets the needs of the case, and we act upon or with that object 'instinctively.' Again, we have mislaid something we require, and are groping in our memories for some suggestion or clue; the clue flashes upon us suddenly in a remembered past event, which determines at once the place of the required something. Again, we are striving to find some conceptual law or principle, which will unite and organize a number of particular facts in some domain of science; in a moment, as it were, we apprehend the key relation, and the mass of discrete particulars is organized. All these are cases of what we call intuition. iv] The ' Knowledge ' of Instinct 91 We might go on giving instances ojE what is usually called intuition from art, from philosophy, from the practical life of commerce or industry. In every case we should find the same elements present, an object, situation, or relation appre- hended or perceived, and apprehended as the very object, situation, or relation we require at the particular moment. Intuition is then perception, but something more ; it is Reid's 'belief,' but something more. That 'something more' is, however, nothing mystical or occult. It is merely a pronounced feeling element, 'satisfyingness,' determined by the merging of the impulse of the moment in its required object, a pro- nounced feeling element that will only arise, when there has been previously a glow of ' worthwhileness,' accompanied by an experienced 'tension.' What of intuitive knowledge? Intuition, if this analysis is correct, cannot yield a new and unique kind of knowledge. Intuitive knowledge is perceptual knowledge, qualified, if you like, by a feeling of its value and significance at the moment, but not thereby altered in its cognitive aspect. We can dis- tinguish, on the cognitive side of mind, three grades or levels of intelligence, the perceptual level, the level of ideal represen- tation, and the level of conceptual thought. Intuition may appear at all levels. So also may perception. One level is not superseded by the development of a higher level. Moreover the difference in levels is merely a difference in the degree of 'psychical integration'^ that is possible, and a corresponding difference in the possible range of perception or of intuition. At the perceptual level perception and intuition are limited to sense perception, and the immediate apprehension of a presented situation, in the 'psychical integration' of impulse or interest and determining or satisfying sensation. At the second level the range of both is extended, owing to a 'psychical integration,' which includes the representation of past situations and of objects not immediately presented. There seems no object in confining perception, any more than intuition, to T ^ Sturt comes very near the idea of 'psychical integration' in this context by his ' noesis ' or ' noetic synthesis.' See Principles of Understanding, especially chaps, in, viii, ix, x. 92 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. sense perception, for the immediate apprehension of a single and simple real is perception, whether the real be presented or ideally represented. The same principle holds of the third level. Concept ual thought involves analysis ^^s well as syn- thesis, and therefore it involves the immediate apprehension of objects presented or represented, as well as of relations between objects. Here, too, apprehension of a single and simple real, whether object or relation, is perception. In all cases, the perception which glows with ' worth whileness' and 'satisfyingness' is also intuition. Bergson cites the knowledge displayed by the solitary wasp, Ammophila, in its action on its caterpillar prey, as an illus- tration of the nature and perfection of the 'intuitive knowledge' of Instinct^. According to Fabre's observations, which Bergson accepts, the Ammophila stings its prey exactly and unerringly in each of the nervous centres. The result is that the cater- pillar is paralysed, but not immediately killed, the advantage of this being, that the larva cannot be injured by any move- ments of the caterpillar, upon which the egg is deposited, and is provided with fresh meat when the time comes. Now Dr and Mrs Peckham^ have shown, that the sting of the wasp is not unerring, as Fabre alleges, that the number of stings is not constant, that sometimes the caterpillar is not paralysed, and sometimes it is killed outright, and that the different circumstances do not apparently make any difference to the larva, which is not injured by slight movements of the caterpillar, nor by consuming as food decomposed rather than fresh caterpillar. Lloyd Morgan' is inclined to hold with Bergson, that it does not much matter for Bergson's thesis, whether the wasp " acts like a learned entomologist and a skilled surgeon rolled into one," or not. But it does matter. If the facts are not as stated by Fabre, and by Bergson following Fabre, then calling the instinct a "paralysing instinct" seems to be largely a begging of the question, and very little is left in the illustration, ^ Creative Evolution, p. 182. ' Wasps, Social and Solitary, chap. Ii. ' Instinct and Experience, p. 223. But see for the opposite view the same writer in British Journal of Psychology, vol. ni, p. 226. iv] The ' Knowledge ' of Instinct 93 that is relevant to the hypothesis, in support of which it is cited. We can call the instinct an example of 'symj^^thfiUcioBight,' if we like, but there is really no proof that knowledge in any sense, sympathetic or other, is implied at all, any more than knowledge of the nature of chlorine is implied in the ammonia that selects it out of the air and combines with it to form ammonium chloride. Perhaps it may be argued that this is too extreme a statement, and that, in the case of Ammophila and her caterpillar, vital processes at least are involved. Even conceding this, we are still far from anything that can be called knowledge, for a reflex action, hke that of the heart or of the stomach, is also a vital process, but hardly any one would maintain that it involves sympathetic knowledge. The rootlets of a plant select and absorb the elements of the soil, necessary to the growth of the plant. Do they exhibit sympathetic or intuitive knowledge in doing so? For all we know to the contrary, the stinging of the cater- pillar by the wasp may be due simply to reflexes, stimulated by the contact of the caterpillar, and the places in which the stings are given determined partly by accident, and partly by the shapes of the two bodies — that is, for aU we know to the contrary, in the established facts among the total mass of presumed facts cited by Bergson. If we take the whole hunting of the caterpillar by the wasp, from the first view to the final sting, the case is not in the least altered, unless we can show definitely that consciousness or experience must have been present, to account for facts actually observed. In the mere process of stinging, as carefully described by the Peckhams, no such fact appears to be involved. If 'kno^ledgelxepresgnts. a psychological phenomenon at all, if it is to be possible to attach a psychological meaning to the knowledge of Instinct, the hunting instinct of Ammophila and similar instincts, must be described and interpreted in qi4te different terms. Further, if the knowledge of Instinct is of the nature of intuitive knowledge, and if intuition, ,a^„ we have shown or at least tried to show, is essentially perception^ as far as its cognitive aspect is concerned, then the knowledge 94 The Psychological Natwre of Instifict [oh. of Instinct must be interpreted psycluolpgically as of the nature of perceptual knowledge, and the working out of an instinct is accompanied by what is essentially nothing more than" perceptual experience, perceptual experience at the first level, with the lowest degree o£' psychical Integration.' How far can we interpret the facts from this point of view ? Every act of Ammophila, in the working out of its hunting instinct, to take this as an example of the whole type of instiflct to which it belongs, is either accompanied by perceptual ex- perience, or is of the reflex order, that is, without the interven- tion of experience. Let us assume that all the acts, in place of only a few of them, as may be really the case, are accompanied by perceptual experience. If they were all of the reflex order, then we should have merely a compound reflex, and no instinct at all. It must be noted, however, that such compound reflex would fit into Bergson's theory of Instinct as weU as anything else. The instinctive impulse, which we may denote by Y, starting the whole movement, so to speak, enters consciousness as I, on perception a of, let us say, certain organic sensations, indicating certain coming changes, in the body of Ammophila, associated with the depositing of the egg. Act XI follows, the result of which, that is the situation which supervenes upon the act, apprehended as b, determines a new particular impulse m, and action X2 follows, the result of which in turn, apprehended as c, determines a third particular impulse n, and action X3 follows, and so on. We have therefore the underlying impulse Y, which may be regarded as really the instinct from the philosophical, or even from the biological point of view, appearing successively as l,m,n,o,..., according as it is determined by percepts — or intuitions, if that word is preferred — a, b, c, d, ..., and a chain of actions, constituting the instinctive behaviour XI, X2, X3, X4:, .... In the mean- time we are leaving the feeling element out of account, because it does not appear to be significant for our present purpose. We might have such a series as XI, X2, X3, Xi, ..., as a chain of reflexes, the end of one action stimulating the begin- ning of the next. As we have just said, such a chain of reflexes will suit Bergson's view quite as well, for we might speak of it iv] The ' Knowledge ' of Instinct 95 figuratively, as representing, on the part of nature or of life, a perfect insight or intuitive knowledge. But how do we know that the hunting instinct of Ammophila, or any such instinct, is not of this description? How do we know that the other series are present? We know that XI, X2, X3, Xi, ..., is not a series of reflexes, because we get evidence in the behaviour itself of the intervention of experience at certain points — we are assuming at all points for the sake of simplicity of exposi- tion — and we get evidence, or may get evidence, of the presence of both the other series. Close observation of the wasp dis- closes that it is not the action Zl that stimulates to X2, but the presentation of a pertain situation, giving rise to perception b. For example, the action may be completed without the normal situation appearing as a result. Or we may interfere in such ways as to produce repetition of certain actions over and over again, by altering the situation so as to give percep- tion b over and over again^. In fact it is not at all difficxilt to convince ourselves by experience that there is a series a,b,c,d, .... But we can also, though it is slightly more diffi- cult, occasionally modify the series I, m, n, o, ..., by interfering at any point with the underlying impulse Y, working itself out. For example we may produce a new imderlying impulse Z, for which the situations presented as a,b,c,d, ..., either have no meaning, or have a different meaning, say a', b', c', d'. Even though we could not actually produce this change, it could still be shown that the series I, m, n, o, ..., is psychologically necessary to explain the facts psychologically, that is on the basis of our own experience. A close parallel for the kind of behaviour, which character- izes the hunting instinct of Ammophila,, as we are interpreting it, as well as all similar instincts, including even such instincts as the nest-building of birds, is to be fpuijd> in the case of himian beings, in a series of acts like those involved in riding a bicycle through a crowded thoroughfare. This series has of course been learned, but, when learned, it involves, as far as experience is concerned, a fundamental impulse, generally not itself experienced, a mental setting, determined from time * Examples will be found in the casea of instinctive behaviour cited later. 96 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. • to time by the perceptual apprehension of situations, as a series of particular conscious impulses, and determining a suc- cession of corresponding acts. The consciousness, or experience, or mind, involved, is merely a series of sparks or flashes, light- ing up a particular cross-road, so to speak, at the moment: when the choice between roads must be made. It now becomes possible for us to see more clearly what the develo2mentof intelli gence , in connection with the working out of an instinctive impulse, involves, and what is meant by degree of ' psychical integration.' A chain of acts, XI, X2, . . . Xn, constituting a course of behaviour, may be simply a chain of reflexes, in wluch case^ttie.pjocess, pnce^tartedj works jtself out inevitably froni^Xl to Xn, and, apart from any possible results of organic adaptability, is practically unmodifiable. In such a case there could be no_ unequivocal evidence that any consciousness or experience was present. If, however^the course of behaviour is instinctive^ arid' not reflex, then, at some point or points, between X\ and X2, X2 and X3, or X3 and Xi, there is a spark or flash of perceptual experience, a psychical relating or integrating of particular impulse and particular sensa- tion determined by the situation at the moment. At that point, or those points, the behaviour will no longer be unmodifiable, since there it is not niechanicaUy but psychically jletirmined7 Such is the lowest stage in the development of mind or intelligence, the lowest degree of 'psychical integration.' The first traces of mind are in the nature of sparks or flashes of perceptual consciousness, psychically relating particular impulse and particular situation. Wherever this spark of perceptual consciousness appears, the action of the animal is modifiable, but only after the activity up to that point has run its course. The whole subsequent course of behaviour may obviously be modified as a result. The first development of intelligence may take place at the same Tevel^ty a mere multiplication of the sparks or flashes of perceptual consciousness, so "tKatjulti- mately every act in the chain may become nibdifiable, but only after the previous. .atL has _been perfdrmed; -'T-his~ts the stage at which we assumed the hunting instinct of Ammophila had arrived. iv] The ' Knowledge ' of Instinct 97 At the next level of intelligence the spark has become a glow. In place of the psychical relating of a to x, there is a relating of a to 6 and c, and therefore to y and z, which is not a conceptual or noetic relating, but which is nevertheless psychical, and which manifests itself in experience by antici- pation of, or preparation for, what is coming, rather than by purposive determination of what is to come. Or we may say a becomes a sign of c, z begins to be acted at x. perceptual consciousness is no longer confined to presentative, Fu?"c(m- tains also representative elements. Any evidence as basis for inference from observed behaviour to experience may be more or less equivocal at the first level; at the second level the inference is practically certain. If an animal's behaviour is determined, not by a as such, but by a as the sign of some result, already experienced in similar situations, as the sign of something coming, not by the 'primary' meaning alone of a, but by 'secondary,' as well as 'primary' meaning, the only possible inference seems to be that the animal is capable of a ■ psychical integration,' including more than the immediate experience, referring back to what has been experienced, and forward to what is coming. Again there are grades of intelli- gence at this level, according to the range of the 'psychical integration,' according to the extent, so to speak, consciousness is capable of lighting up^- At the third level of intelligence there is 'noetic' relating and synthesis of the perceptual elements, to one another and in a conceptual whole, whereby the imderlying impulse itself, rather than the separate particular impulses, may become clearly conscious, in its relation to the final term of the series, which has become conscious end. The range of 'psychical integration' may thus become practically unlimited, since the relation and the synthesis are general, and not particular. The highest degree of 'psychical integration' we find in the human being, but again there are differences in degree in different individuals, and these differences are also differences of intelligence. In all cases man is capable, though in degrees, of looking before and after, He foresees the end from the ^ Cf. Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, chap. vi. D. 7 98 The Psychological Ncttwe of Instinct [oh. beginning, and — we are speaking of the ideal, rather than the real human being — in all its relations. Consequently he is independent of the intervening presentations, except in so far as these are necessarily involved, and he sees that they are necessarily involved, in the attainment of the end. Another way in which the degree of 'psychical integration' may be regarded is its relation to time order or succession in pre- sentations. The higher the degree, the greater the independence of time order of the behaviour. This seems to indicate, in the limiting case, the entire independence of time of the behaviour guided by perfect 'psychical integration.' Schopenhauer's assertion of the timelessness of instinctive knowledge^ is thus paralleled by a similar statement with regard to the behaviour controlled by,- perfect conceptual knowledge. Do beginning and end coincide? The statement, that the cognitive element in instinct- experience is perceptual and nothing more, does not quite meet the needs of the case. It must be conceded that no sufficient evidence has yet been adduced, to show that this is the only kind of instinct-knowledge the psychologist can recognize. Writers of the most diverse views, from Lord Herbert of Cherbury to von Hartmann and Bergson, have stated that Instinct itself involves a knowledge, and they all mean more than the perceptual cognition accompanying instinctive be- haviour. Moreover there are three aspects of Bergson's treat- ment of Instinct, a philosophical aspect, which does not concern us in the meantime, a psychological aspect, and a biological aspect. Though the alleged ' knowledge ' of Instinct still demands further consideration, it would naturally leave the reader with an uneasy sense, that the discussion so far was incomplete, unsatisfactory, and misleading, were we entirely to ignore the biological aspect, and we may besides find in this biological aspect something which will help us to a just view of the further psychological question. Biology studies the behaviour of living organisms from the objective point of view. According to Bergson's view, the behaviour of an "unintelligent animal" is the using of "an I See above, p. 65. iv] The ' Knowledge ' of Instinct 99 instrument that forms part of its body" by "an instinct that knows how to use it^." Let us see what the biologist himself says. Romanes defines instinctive behaviour as "conscious and adaptive action, antecedent to individual experience, without necessary knowledge of relation between means em- ployed and ends attained, but similarly performed, imder similar and frequently recurring circumstances, by all the indi- viduals of the same species^." Apparent l^owledge without _^?periencei skill without learning, actions adapted to an end without prevision of the end, these are the characteristics of instinctive behaviour. Spalding and Lloyd Morgan's observations and experiments with chicks, Fabre's observations on insects, afford numerous instances of these characteristics*. Spalding hooded chicks, immediately after he had removed them from the egg, and kept them hooded for periods varying from one to three days, his object being to eliminate any possibiUty of learning by experience, imitation, or instruction. On unhooding them, he found, that "often at the end of two minutes they followed with their eyes the movements of crawling insects, turning their heads with all the precision of an old fowl. In from two to fifteen minutes they pecked at some speck or insect, showing not merely an instinctive perception of distance, but an original ability to judge, to measure distance, with something like infallible accuracy. They did not attempt to seize things beyond their reach, as babies are said to grasp at the moon; and they may be said to have invariably hit the objects at which they struck — they never missed by more than a hair's breadth, and that too, when the specks at which they aimed were no bigger, and less visible, than the smallest dot of an i. To seize between the points of the mandibles at the very instant of striking seemed a more difficult operation. I have seen a chicken seize and swallow an insect at the first attempt ; most frequently, however, they struck five or six times, lifting once or twice before they succeeded in swallowing their first food.... ^ Creative Evolution, p. 146. ^ Animal Intelligence, p. 17. ' Article in Maemillan' s Magazine, Feb. 1873. Quoted by Romanes, Mental Evolution in Animals, pp. 161-2. 7—2 100 The Psychological Nat/ure of Instinct [CH. A chicken that had been made the subject of experiments on hearing was unhooded when nearly three days old.... For twenty minutes it sat on the spot, where its eyes had been un- veiled, without attempting to walk a step. It was then placed on rough ground within sight and call of a hen with a brood of its own age. After standing chirping for about a minute, it started off towards the hen, displaying as keen a perception of the qualities of the outer world as it was ever likely to possess in after life. It never required to knock its head against a stone to discover that there was 'no road that way.' It leaped over the smaller obstacles that lay in its path and ran round the larger, reaching the mother in as nearly a straight line as the nature of the ground would permit. This, let it be remem- bered, was the first time it had ever walked by sight." Waiving for a moment the question of the apparent know- ledge, involved in behaviour of the kind here described, let us examine the behaviour itself. The first question that presents itself is, whether there is anything in such behaviour, apart, that is, from any modification or learning due to experience, to differentiate it from behaviour or activities, with which, as such, the psychologist has no concern, like reflex action, or unconscious functional organic processes. ^^^Reflex_aatioB," says Romanes, "is non-mental, neuro-muscular _aidaptation to_a£propriate stimuIi*?'*^ ftr'is possible, he continues, only theoretically~ttr draw~fhe line between instinctive and reflex action. The difficulty of drawing a distinction arises from the fact, that "on the objective side there is no distinction to be drawn ^." If we accept this statement, and there is every reason that we should, seeing that it is a statement upon which most biologists would be agreed, it seems to imply, that the necessary bodily structure (using 'structure' widely), for the carrying out of such actions, can be developed by heredity, through the operation of natural selection. This view is confirmed by Herbert Spencer's definition of Instinct as com- pound reflex action. Objectively considered, then, instinctivg_hghayioHJ,.as de- scribed by Spalding, and generally characterized by Bergson, , p. 11. 2 Op. oit., p. 12. IV] The ' Knowledge' of Instinct 101 may be regarded as merely the functioning of a complex organic structure. _,_]E8?entialIy, therefore, ' it does not seem to be different from the functioning of the lungs in breathing, or the digestive apparatus in digesting. It is the modifiability ' of the behaviour, a modifiability, according to Romanes, depending upon consciousness or experience, that differentiates it from these other forms of functional activity. Since this modifiability depends upon experience, a psychological pheno- menon, it is, qua experience, that instinctive behaviour claims the attention of the psychologist. This is indeed a decision" to which we had previously come, but at this point it clears the way for our final psychological problem in connection with Bergson's view. What then of the apparent instinctive or innate knowledge displayed? There are many ways in which we might approach the problem involved here. We might refer once more to reflex action, or to the digestive functioning of the digestive apparatus, and point out that these also display the same kind of evidence of knowledge or insight into the true inwardness of things and relations. But, assuming that von Hartmaim's 'clairvoyance' and Bergson's 'intuitive knowledge' can be regarded as psycho- logical phenomena, we may meet the contention in another way. We may hold, with Hobhouse, that imputing 'innate concep- tion' to an animal "is to infer, on the ground of actions similar to those of man, an intellectual method opposed to tha;t of man^." Bergson's answer is that instinctive knowledge is not of the same order as conceptual knowledge. This seems to leave only one satisfactory way open, and that is the examining of the manifestations of instinct, to see how far these support the position that Instinct involves anything that the psychologist can call knowledge. There are three considerations which seem specially relevant in this connection. Consider first of all the part which the sense of smell can be shown to play in so many typical and well- developed instincts. As Mitchell has pointed out, in this very connection^, no sense is less fitted than smell to give us know- ledge of a complex object. It would seem to follow that no * Mind in Evolution, p. 50. ^ Structure and Growth of the Mind, p. 127. 102 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [ch. sense is less fitted than smell to mediate innate or intuitive knowledge of a complex object. When Spalding, who had just been working with puppies, put his hand into a basket containing kittens only three days old, and still blind, they at once began "puffing and spitting in a most comical fashion^." Romanes made a similar obser- vation as regards young rabbits and the smell of a ferret^. The flesh-fly, which normally deposits its eggs on putrid meat, will deposit them on the flowers of the carrion plant*. The strong smelling secretion of the udder attracts the lamb; otherwise it would not know what to suck. " It will take into its mouth whatever comes near, in most cases a tuft of wool on its dam's neck, and at this it will continue sucking for an indefinite time*." More striking still is the apparent instinctive recognition by ants, of ants belongiug to the same nest or community, while a stranger ant, put into the nest, is also at once recognized and killed 5. Sir John Lubbock (Lord Avebury) repeated and confirmed the observations of Huber in this respect, and observed further that an ant, separated from the nest for over a year, was still recognized, that, even when ants were taken from the nest in the condition of pupae, and restored as perfect insects, they were still recognized, and finally that ants hatched from the eggs of different queens taken from the same nest received one another as friends. Sir John Lubbock concludes, that the recognition is not due to any 'password' or 'gesture sign,' nor to any peculiar smell. Here, if anywhere, we appear to have a case of innate knowledge or 'clairvoyance.' But a subsequent investigator has discovered that the recognition is due to smell®, that it is not the sight of a stranger ant, or the recognition of him as an intruder, that excites the ants in a nest to fury, and, on the other hand, it is not the sight of a kindred ant, or the recognition of him as of their kin, that ^ Mental Evolution in Animals, p. 164. " Op. oit., p. 165. 3 Op. cit., p. 167. ' Hobhouae, Mind in Evolution, p. 48, quoted from Lloyd Morgan, Habit and Instinct. * Romanes, Animal Intelligence, p. 1 4 f . « Bethe, in Ffluger's Archiv, lxs, pp. 33-37, quoted by Mitchell, Structure and Growth of the Mind, p. 126. IV] The ' Knowledge' of Instinct 103 causes them to receive him as a friend, but in each case a peculiar smell, or at least something analogous to that. For this investigator succeeded in turning "friend into enemy among them, and with more difficulty enemy into friend, and both in degrees," by rubbing a particular enemy ant in the dead bodies of friends, or a particular kindred ant in the dead bodies of enemies. What are we to say then? What is our psychological interpretation of such behaviour to be ? Surely not that there is a mysterious kind of innate knowledge, which becomes functionally active, and determines behaviour, on the presen- tation of a certain smell. Rather that the smell itself has a certain interest, and, on being presented, inaugurates a certain course of action of the kind we call instinctive. Have we no examples in our own experience of imaccoimtable liking or aver- sion, which is entirely independent of knowledge, and entirely perceptual? The animal or insect knows nothing except that it apprehends an object or situation, the smeU of which is agreeably or disagreeably interesting, as the case may be, and which must be reacted towards in a certain way. We might term the whole experience, including the behaviour-experience, a ' this — of course ' experience, only, by so doing, we are making it more definite, and more approximating our own kind of ex- perience, than it in all probability really is^. The second consideration is the extent to which, and the way in which, a slight modification in a situation is sufficient to throw the whole instinctive series out of gear. "The brute cannot deviate from the rule prescribed to it," says Rousseau^. Of course this is not invariably true, but the really surprising thing is that it is so near the truth. Illustrations of this characteristic of instiuctive behaviour are fairly numerous, especially among insects. Here are three, all due to Fabre's observations. The young of Bembex are shut up in a cell, covered over with sand. From time to time the mother brings food, finding ^ Cf. Mitchell, Structure and Growth of the Mind, pp. 125-8, for a discussion of this point. ' Discourse on the Origin of Inequality, part I. 104 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [oh. her way unerringly every time, though to the ordinary human eye, there is nothing to distinguish the spot. Fabre removed the sand, on one occasion, exposing the cell and the larva. As a result the Bembex was quite bewildered, and evidently did not recognize her own offspring, which she had all the time been feeding. " It seems as if she knew the doors, the nursery, and the passage, but not the child^." The larva of Chalicodoma is enclosed in a cell of earth, through which it must eat its way when the time comes for its exit. Fabre first pasted a piece of paper round the cell, and found that the insect ate its way through this without difficulty, in the same way as it ate its way through the earthen wall of the cell. He next placed round the cell a paper case, with a small distance between the wall of the cell and the paper. This time the paper formed "an effectual prison." The Chali- codoma was determined by Instinct to bite through one wall, but not through two^- One of the solitary wasps, Sphex jlavifennis, himts grass- hoppers. When returning to its nest with the grasshopper, it invariably leaves the grasshopper outside, "so that the antennae reach precisely to the opening," goes in, as if to see that all is right inside, then puts out its head and drags in the grasshopper. On one occasion, while the Sphex was in its nest on its visit of inspection, Fabre removed the grasshopper to a small distance from the entrance. Out came the wasp, missed the grasshopper, searched round for it, dragged it to the entrance as before, laid it down, and proceeded again to inspect the nest. Once more Fabre removed the prey, and the wasp repeated the whole process, and again, again, and again, in all forty times. Fabre then removed the grasshopper altogether. The Sphex did not search for another grasshopper, but closed up its nest in the usual way, as if everything was all right inside, though in reality it was closing the nest up, without any food for the larva*. This last case of Instinct has been cited many times. It ^ Romanes, Mental Evolution in Animals, p. 166, quoting Sir John Lubbock. 2 Op. cit., p. 166. •'' Hobhouse, Mind in Evolution, p. 55; Romanes, op. cit., p. 179. IV] Ths ' Knowledge ' of Instinct 105 must be noted, however, that on another occasion Fabre failed to get the same unvarying process repeated so often, and that Dr and Mrs Peckham, in their study of American species of Sphex, describe the process somewhat differently^. It seems as if the urgency of the next succeeding impulse gradually becomes accentuated, until finally the grasshopper may be dragged into the nest, without the preliminary visit of inspection taking place, or the nest may be closed up without a grasshopper. Now what is the nature of the knowledge involved in these three cases? Obviously perceptual knowledge. That is the only answer the psychologist can give. If we suppose a mind confined to perceptual experience, that wiU account for every- thing in the phenomena, so far as they are psychological, and nothing else will. The third consideration is the kind of errorwhich_eiara'C- terizes Instinct. This is a point that has been much emphasized by those writers who have sought to combat the notion of Instinct altogether. Buchner is a notable instance^. We may distinguish simple errors made by Instinct, from what we should rather call aberrations of Instinct. Let us begin with a few typical errors. The larva of the Sitaris beetle attaches itself to a bee, and is carried to the hive, where it is hatched and maintained on the honey^- The knowledge that would really matter to the Sitaris larva is knowledge that would inevitably enable it to distinguish a bee from other passing insects. This knowledge it evidently does not possess. "Although they are close to the abodes of the bees, they do not enter them, but seek to attach themselves to any hairy object that may come near them, and thus a certain number of them get on to the bodies of the Anthophora, and are carried to its nest. They attach themselves with equal readiness to any other hairy insect, and it is probable that very large numbers perish in consequence of attaching themselves to the wrong insects*." ^ Wasps, Social and Solitary, pp. 69-71, 304-5. ^ See Aus dem Oeistesleben der Thiere, English translation by Annie Besant, under the titlf Mind in Animals, Introduction. ' Darwin, Origin of Species, chap. xiii. ' Cambridge Natural History, vol. vi, p. 272, quoted by Hobhouae, Mind in Evolution, p. 49. 106 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. Romanes records, on the authority of two independent observers, that wasps and bees occasionally visit representations of flowers on the wallpapers of rooms, and quotes a case, where a parrot, which ordinarily feeds on the flowers of the Eucalyptus, attempted to dine off the flowers represented on a print dress, and another case of a hawk-moth mistaking the artificial flowers in a lady's bonnet for real ones^. Brehm relates that the pine-moth, the caterpillars of which live on pine leaves, may by mistake lay its eggs on oak-trees, growing in the neighbour- hood of pines ^. The same point is illustrated by some of our previous cases of Instinct, for example those of the flesh-fly and the Iamb. Errors in connection with the migratory instincts of birds and animals* might be added, but, owing to the unsatisfactory state of our knowledge regarding the phenomena of migration, we could hardly with safety draw conclusions from them. One example will suffice of what we may call aberration of Instinct. The larva of the Lomechusa beetle eats the young of the ants, in whose nest it is reared. Nevertheless the ants tend the Lomechusa larvae with the same care they bestow on their own young. Not only so, but they apparently discover that the methods of feeding, which suit their own larvae, would prove fatal to the guests, and accordingly they change their whole "system of nursing." Hobhouse, who quotes this illustration from Wasmann, comments: "After all is an ant, nourishing parasites that destroy its yoimg, guilty of a greater absurdity than, say, a mother promoting her daughter's happiness by selling her to a rich husband, or an inquisitor burning a heretic in the name of Christian charity, or an Emperor forbidding his troops to give quarter in the name of civiliza- tion*?" Though the comparison is no doubt a just one, yet from the psychological point of view it is rather misleading. The 1 Mtntal Evolution in Animals, p. 167. " Quoted by Biiohner, op. oit., p. 15 (translation). " See Darwin, Descent of Man, 2nd ed., pp. 105, 107. Ako "Posthumous Essay on Instinct" in Romanes, Mental Evolution in Animals, and also pp. 281- 297 of latter. * Mind in Evolution, p. 75. rv] The 'Knowledge' of Instinct 107 mother, the inquisitor, and the Emperor haye all certain conceived ends, and judge that the means taken are such as to realize those ends. The behaviour of the ant is what it is, precisely because there is no conceived end, nor judgment regarding the means for realizing it, but merely p erceptua l consciousness, determining the acting out of an mstinctive impulse from momentTo moment. These examples— and they are all more or less typical — seem to make it abundantly clear that we have no right_to^ speak of knowledge, in any psychological sense of knowledge, as characterizing the operations of Instinct, beyond the know- ledge involved in perceptual consciousness. That the instinct structure is a marvellous adaptation to the conditions in which it must function, and that this adaptation is the result of evolution, working in the main through natural selection, no one would attempt to deny. But similar adaptations of structure to conditions of functioning may be found in pro- cesses of animal life, which do not, in the psychologist's opinion, involve consciousness at all. Of course we may speak figura- tively of knowledge as determining action in these cases also, but to do so is to use the term in a meaning that is scientifically quite unjustifiable. Or we may regard the knowledge, as residing in a Mind, which has created both the structure and the conditions to which it is adapted. Psychologically the only possible interpretetion-jQl.atstincMvfi_Jtehaviojax_sfifims to be in terms of specific impulse determining specific act, on presentation in perceptual consciousness of a specific situation. So far as Bergson's descriptloff and analysis of rnstinct is psychological, this view of the nature of the instinctive con- sciousness will apply to it, and will even help in the interpretation of its often highly figurative language. Take this for example : "Instinct is therefore necessarily specialized, being nothing but the utilization of a specific instrument for a specific object. The instrument constructed intelligently, on the contrary, is an imperfect instrument. It costs an effort. It is generally troublesome to handle. But, as it is made of rmorganized matter, it can take any form whatsoever, serve any purpose, free the living being from every new difficulty that arises. 108 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. and bestow on it an unlimited number of powers. Whilst it is inferior to the natural instrument for the satisfaction of immediate wants, its advantage over it is the greater, the less urgent the need^." Understand "perceptual experience" for the "specific instrument of instinct," and "conceptual thought" for the "instrument constructed intelligently," and everything becomes clear and acceptable to any psychologist. Let us return to our example of the cyclist riding through a crowded thoroughfare. He has to rely upon perceptual experience, and he must perceive, and act immediately on the perception of, the precise element in each newly presented situation, which is essentially concerning him. Cyclists die young, who try to ride through crowded thoroughfares, and who perceive and act towards the wrong things, or who require to think about relations, before they can decide to act at all. The situation in which the cyclist often finds himself is pre- cisely such a situation, that the only possible guide to right action is perceptual experience. Neither purely mechanical adjustment, nor knowledge of- the velocities and masses of various loaded and unloaded vehicles, and the relation of such velocities and masses to the velocity and mass of himself and the machine he is riding, will serve his purpose. Purely mechanical adjustment will not, because the situations do not present themselves in any form, which can be grasped under a general law or principle, capable of being embodied in any mechanism. Conceptual knowledge will not, because it involves a delay of action, when immediate action is imperative, when even the representation of the act in idea is "held in check by the performance of the act itself^." A final point, which may be made against Bergson's view of Instinct, is that his contrast between Instinct and Intelli- gence, as ways of knowing reality, depends, not only on a psychologically illegitimate use of the word 'knowledge,' in connection with Instinct, but also on an interpretation of Intelligence, which, as confining that term to its highest manifestations, is also* misleading. Intelligence, he holds, * Creative. Evolution, p. 148 (translation). 2 Op. oit., p. 151. iv] The 'Knowledge' of Instinct 109 implies an "innate knowledge" of relations, rather than things. Once more the use of 'knowledge' is scarcely legitimate, for, by this statement, he means simply to assert that Intelligence makes use of intellectual categorieSj^ and comprehendFTBalitj^ under these Tomis7the use of a form^koplying 'innate know- ledge^ of the fornij which seems to be precisely the same argument as that used with regard to instinctive 'lEnqwledge.' According to a disciple, Bergson means to define Intelligence as the "power of using categories," since it is "knowledge of the relations of things^." But, to quote again the same writer, "beside the intellect, and implied in our knowledge of its limitations, is a power of intuition, that is, of apprehending reality not limited by the intellectual categories^." Exactly so. This intuition, as we have seen, is what we call perceptual experieiice, and, as we have also seen, tBii"7s characteristic__of instinctiye^bfihaviour. It is true that perceptual experience does not make use of the intellectual categories, because, qua perception, it does not think relations, but' apprehends single and simple reals, though, in the human being, as 'con- ceptual' perception, it may employ or, at all events, be modified by, the results of such use of the intellectual categories. But, in any case, the contrast between Instinct and Intelligence has thus become nothing more than the distinction between perceptual consciousness and conceptual thought. If we choose to limit 'Intelligence' to the latter, then the separation between Instinct and Intelligence, as regards the form under which each knows reality, is inevitable. We are really using Bergson as a type of those theories of Instinct, which attribute to it a kind of 'innate' or 'clairvoyant' knowledge. He is, of course, really opposing Instinct and Intelligence on an apperceptive background of philosophy, not of psychology, and of a peculiar philosophy, which requires him to use terms, which are used in psychology, but with a different and specialized or 'polarized' meaning. It is Life, which is the ultimate reality, a Life, which 'acts' and 'knows,' but with a transcendent 'action' and 'knowledge,' not the * H. Wildon Carr in British Journal of Psychology, vol. lu, p. 232. ^ Op. cit., p. 236. 110 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [OH. IV action and knowledge of the individual, with which psychology deals. Desiring to express this transcendent 'action' and 'know- ledge,' so as to make it clear to himself and to others, Bergson seizes upon the difference between Instinct and Intelligence, as presenting in some way an analogy to the difference between ordinary action and knowledge and this perfect action and knowledge. At this point Bergson seems to be thinking of Instinct partly in the way in which the biologist thinks of it, but still more — and this is where the importance of the view for psychology comes in — in a more or less popular way, and in a way which had shown itself in several of the older writers on Instinct, from Lord Herbert of Cherbury to E. von Hartmann. When Bergson comes to an analysis of the characteristics which distinguish Instinct from Intelligence, he is compelled by his whole line of argument to oppose the two. ^^ycho- logically the opposition is really that between perceptual experience and conceptual thought, biologically that between a 'connate' and an "acquired disposition, structxire^ or organi- zation of nervous elements. Apart from philosophical impli- cations, these are really the oppositions he makes. But, in order to support his thesis, immediate apprehension of reality must be emphasized on the one hand, as over against indirect, relational, and hypothetical knowledge on the other. Hence the implied conclusion, that, only in so far as we lay aside the forms of the intellect, and trust to intuition, can we know reality as Life. In order to get the best view of the stars through a telescope, we ought to shut our own eyes, as some one — was it not Locke — once expressed a somewhat similar situation. CHAPTER V THE PSYCHOLOGICAL NATURE OF INSTINCT- INSTINCT AND INTELLIGENCE The discussion of Bergson's opposition between Instinct and Intelligence naturally leads us on to attempt to determine, more closely than we have yet done, the exact relation between the two. This has lately become a highly controversial question, but we shall try to show that there is really no reason why it should have. The whole controversy — or, at least, the main controversy — seems to have arisen from difEerent writers using the respective terms in difEerent senses, and our old friend, the biological meaning of Instinct, has played no mean part, and has been perhaps the most fruitful soiu:ce of confusion. The British Journal of Psychology of October, 1910, con- tained a statement of the views, regarding the relation of Instinct to Intelligence, of several of our leading British psy- chologists, Myers, Stout, McDougall, Lloyd Morgan, and Wildon Carr. Lloyd Morgan has since given us a more fully elaborated statement of his views in his Instinct and Experience. The main lines of the discussion may, therefore, be regarded as laid down for us. Five more or less different views regarding the relation of Instinct to Intelligence are before tis. Of these, one is Bergson's and need not further concern us for the present. Lloyd Morgan's view appears to be the generally prevailing view among comparative psychologists. It will, therefore, be best to take our start from that. Myers puts forward what may be caUed the opposing view, with McDougall in close agreement, while Stout's view mediates between Lloyd Morgan's and Myers', with leanings towards the latter, as regards essential elements. It may be well to state here, that our purpose in utilizing this whole discussion is not merely to clear up the relation of 112 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [ch. Instinct to Intelligence, but also to arrive at a fuller analysis of the instinct-experience itself. Hitherto we have been con- cerned mainly with the instinct-experience, in so far as it is determined by the nature of an object or situation, and with the assumption of an innate knowledge of some kind or other, determining the course of action. We have still to consider the instinct-experience, in so far as it is determined by the relation of situation to impulse, by what we shall call later the 'meaning' of the situation, and our attempt to get a psycho- logical account of this factor wiU be very greatly assisted by following the discussion, in the way in which we intend to follow it. It is a little imfortunate that Lloyd Morgan's conception of Instinct should be the biological, a conception which we have already rejected as practically useless for psychological pur- poses, and as likely to lead sooner or later to insoluble difficulties. Nevertheless his paper yields some very interesting psychological points, when he seeks to attach to his biological conception of Instinct the notion of experience, and attempts to give a genetic account of what he terms the 'primary tissue of experience^.' A start is made with instinctive behaviour, defined as dependent "entirely _ofl_JbiQwrtHe._nervous_system has been built up through heredity, under the mode of racial preparafioh which we call evolution.?,!'. As opposed ito instinctive BeEaviour, intelligent behavioxir depends on the way in which the nervous system liaTbeSanBuilt up through heredity, But""^epends~also on how the nervous system has been modified and moui3e3^ in the course of that individual preparation, which we call the acquisition of experience*." Both definitions are psychologically unsatisfactory, the latter the more obviously so. It would include under intelligent behaviour the most unintelUgent and imconsciously formed individual habits, hke habits of speech and gesture. On the ^ Lloyd Morgan has since, in Instinct and Experience, explicitly abandoned this phrase. We are inclined to continue its use, but rather in the form ' primary tissue of meaning,' as below. ^ British Journal of Psychology, vol. in, p. 220. ' Op. cit., p. 221. v] Instinct and Intelligence 113 other hand it is very doubtful how far we can regard what is essentially intelligent in intelligent behaviour as due to the acquisition of experience. As to the former it_is joecessary, in order to differentiate instinctive behaviour, so defined, from mere ofganic^focess "and" reflex activity, to add that the behaviour, conditioned by inherited dispositions of the nervous system, which ~wer call instinctive, is also accompanied by exgenerice. It is only at this point that the psychology of instinctive behaviour begins. The questions which interest the psycho- logist are : What is the nature of this experience ? How does it arise? What is its fimction? All these questions Lloyd TWofgan attempts to answer in his genetic account of the 'primary tissue of experience.' The~wEoIe*Mgumerit "as to the origin of experience and the relation of Instinct to Intelligence centres round the develop- ment of the experience of a moorhen, which Lloyd Morgan has observed. He begins with the moorhen about two months old, which he has observed on the occasion of its first dive, and, working backwards in the moorhen's experience, he finally reaches the 'primary tissue of experience,' where the 'factors of reinstatement' are practically non-existent. We may profitably reverse the order, and begin with the 'primary tissue.' If we consider the moorhen chick, "at the time when the little bird was struggling out of the cramping egg-shell," then we have the time when the first experience arose, "when there came what we may regard as the initial presentation, generating the initial responsive behaviour, in the earliest instinctive acts, accompanied we may presume by the initial emotional tone, coalescent to form what I have ventured to call the primary tissue of experience^." This is the birth of experience. It is the stage "at which the experiencer, as such, has its primary genesis." Is this also the beginning of mind, as far as the chick is concerned ? This is a question which we might ask, but which we do not intend to press in the meantime, since the answer seems to be involved in what follows. "All those primary and inherited modes of behaviour, * British Journal of Psychology, vol. m, p. 224. D. .. 8 114 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [ch. including reflex acts," which contribute to the 'primary tissue of experience,' are, "for psychological purposes," to be regarded as included xmder Instinct. This earliesjb experience — instinct- experience — described as the coalescenclp of the first presen- tation, the first emotional tone, and thfe first instinctive act, renders possible, according to Lloyd Morgan's view, an intelli- gent factor in subsequent behaviour. The first act, however, is not at all intelligent, but purely 'instinctive.' Two other instances of the moorhen chick's behaviour, are cited, and it will be well to have these also before us, when considering this account of the nature of instinct-experience. The genesis of the moorhen as experiencer has been described. When this experiencer had had a few days of such experience, it was one day placed gently in a tepid bath. "Even then he was an experiencer, though his store of factors of revival was exceedingly limited. Of swimming experience he had none. Racial preparation had, however, fitted the tissues, contained within his black fluffy skin to respond in a quite definite manner. And, in the first act of swimming, there was afforded to his experience a specific presentation, a specific response, a specific emotional tone, all coalescent into one felt situation^." Two months later, this moorhen dived for the first time, when it was scared by the appearance of a dog. "There was the moorhen, swimming in the stream. Sensory presentations through eye, ear, and skin, from the organs concerned in behaviour, from the internal viscera, from the whole organic 'make-up' — these, together with a supplement of 'factors of reinstatement,' gained during two months of active, vigorous life, constituted what I conceived to be the actually existent experience of the moment. Here was a body of experience, then and there present, fimctioning as experiencer and ready to assimilate the newly introduced instinctive factors. Then comes along that blundering puppy; and the moorhen dives^." Lloyd Morgan's thesis is, that, though in a moorhen two months old Instinct and Intelligence cannot be separated, yet they are theoretically and psychologically distinguishable. In the "scare-begotten dive'' the behaviour is predominantly ^ British Journal of Psychology, vol. ni, p. 222. ^ Op. cit., p. 221. v] Instinct and Intelligence 115 instinctive, because it is dependent mainly on the way in which the "nervous mechanism has been built up through heredity," and to a very slight extent determined by the previous experience of the moorhen. From his own point of view, he is of course right, and popularly also, as we have seen, we call actions instinctive when the 'potency of experience' is low. But that is not where the real difficulty arises, nor where the real interest of the psychologist lies. The real difficulty arises in the account given of experience. What Lloyd Morgan's exact idea was, when he used the word 'coalescent,' it is not easy to determine, but, on his own statement of the various cases, there is no coalescence. There is only a succession of two experiences. There is the presen- tation-experience a, and there is the behaviour-experience b, and b succeeds a, is not synthesized with a, by any means of which he makes mention in the descriptions. It is impossible ' to see how 'factors of reiustatement,' unless they contain more than the original experiences, as so described, can ever make any difference in the instinctive behaviour of the moorhen. The "scare-begotten dive" is determined, not merely to a very slight extent, by experience, but, on any such account of ex- perience, not at all. It is as purely instinctive as the first instiuctive response of the newly hatched chick, i The most valuable part of Stout's paper is probably his conclusive refutation oi Lloyd Morgan's views, as regards the nature of the experience, which accompanies the first or any subsequent instinctive response. Lloyd Morgan has expanded, and somewhat modified his views, in a more recent work^, to meet the objections of Stout and others. It is therefore neces- sary that we should consider here his fuller and more detailed statement, before leaving this point. The first important addition made is that experience, as such, is synthetic. "Any given exper isnce-a,t-an$:.jnomant is a synthetic product, or, from a different point of view, a phase iri"arcontinuous synthetic process^." Now this is undoubtedly true, and it apparently gets over the 'coalescence' difficulty, but what does it really mean for Lloyd Morgan ? What is the exact ^ Instinct and Experience. London, 1912. ' Op. oit„ p. 8. 8—2 116 The Psychological Natv/re of Instinct [oh. nature and manner of this synthesis ? He says it is essentially the synthesis involved in what Stout has called 'primary meaning'.' In an experienced series — if there is conative unity and continuity, according to Stout — each element except the first is qualified by the fact that certain others have pre- ceded, as well as by the quale of these others, and is therefore presented with a meaning, which is something over and above the bare presentation itself. In other words, our experience of the object is determined, not by the nature of the object exclusively, but also by our immediately preceding experience of objects. Though we cannot accept Stout's account of 'primary meaning,' it must be conceded that this position presents no difficulties for him, since, with him, experience is shot through and through with conation, and conation always synthesizes. For Lloyd Morgan the explanation of the syn- thesis is an entirely different, and much more difficult matter. Lloyd Morgan admits that "all experience involves a consciousness of process as transitionaP." There are really two points which arise. The first is the kind of explanation we can give of synthesis or coalescence — they cannot be con- sidered synonymous — on the basis of transition in experience and experience of the transition. That enquiry we are for- the present postponing. The second is the way in which this transition in experience and experience of transition affects 'primary' meaning, in Stout's sense. That is the point we are discussing. A 'puppy presentation' a is followed by a 'behaviour- experience' b. Theoretically at least, we may suppose other presentations interposed between a and h. Practically that is probably impossible in this case, owing to the fact that h follows almost immediately upon a, but theoretically there is no impossibility. In the small fraction of a second, intervening between a and h, let us suppose other presentations, x, y, z, etc., as of a stone thrown into the water, a trout leaping, and the like. How will this affect the primary meaning of 6? Is 6 now qualified by x, y, and z, as well as by a, and presumably ^ Manual, book i, chap. ii. ^ British Journal of Psychology, vol. iii, p. 223. v] Instinct and Intelligence 117 to a greater extent by z than by a? Obviously the answer is that h is not qualified to any appreciable extent by x, y, and z, and certainly not to a greater extent by z than by a, because b is the response to a. This is the chief factor giving meaning to b, not the mere transition in experience from a. The two experiences belong together, and are experienced as belonging together. But experienced transition and 'primary' meaning, as understood by Lloyd Morgan, will not explain this experience of belonging together. For a also represents a transition from some other presentation or behaviour-experience, say swimming, and acquires 'primary' meaning from such antecedent experience, which we may denote by A ; but the connection between A and a, and the qualification of a due to A, are worlds away from the connection between a and b, and the qualification of b due to a. Take for illustrative purposes an analogous, or nearly analogous, case from human experience. I am cycling in a leisurely way along a country road, listening to the song of a lark, when a motor whizzes suddenly round a bend in' the road, some twenty yards away, and I hurriedly take the side of the road. Here we have 'song of lark' as presentation A, 'approaching motor' as presentation a, and 'getting hurriedly out of its way' as behaviour-experience b. It is clear that the relation of 6 to a is quite difierent from the relation of a to 4, and that the difference is due to the fact that more is involved than the mere experience of transition. But there is another side of the psychological series of phenomena. So far we have considered only the meaning of b with relation to a. What of the meaning of a with relation to 6? In our opinion the answer to this question presents a difficulty, which Lloyd Morgan is no more successful in sur- mounting on the second statement of his case, than on the first. He can only give an account of this meaning in terms of 'secondary' meaning, that is to say, as the result of past experience, the 'factors of reinstatement.' According to this accoimt, on its first presentation a has no meaning, but it acquires meaning from the behaviour-experience which foUows. This seems a very strange transposition of Stout's 'primary' 118 The Psfychologiccd Nature of InstiTict [CH. meaning. So far as Stout's 'primary' meaning is concerned, a is qualified not by 6, which succeeds, but by A which pre- cedes it. Waiving this difficulty, we come upon another. On a subsequent presentation similar to a, owing to 'secondary' meaning, there is preperception of what is coming. This is what we caU learning by experience. If it were not that Stout interprets Lloyd Morgan's position, in the same way, we should be afraid that we were misinterpreting him. But Stout, very pertinently, as it seems to us, asks whether this learning must be considered as taking place on the first occasion or on the second. If it did not take place on the first occasion, he sees no way of accoimting for its taking place at aU. This Lloyd Morgan cannot help admitting^- The most interesting point is the preperception itself, or the "prospective reference," of which preperception "is the first genetic stage^." The position woidd seem to be, that, so far as the purely instinctive element is concerned, there is no "prospective reference" in the fijst "puppy presentation," that the moorhen experiences, but, because of the results which follow in experi- ence, the second such presentation would have "prospective reference," and the behaviour, which followed, even within the limits in which it was previously purely instinctive, would be suffused with intelligence. The "prospective reference" of a on the second occasion, therefore, can only arise from the association of behaviour-experience b with a on the first occasion. Every other explanation is excluded, and how association supplies a characteristic of looking forward, which was not present in a on the first occasion, which determines the association, appears to us, as to Stout, an entire and in- comprehensible mystery. It must be admitted that Lloyd Morgan is quite aware of the associationist implications of his position. He seeks to avoid them by pointing out that he is describing the 'experi- enced,' not the 'experiencing^.' If this means that he is con- cerned with the objective, and not at all with the subjective 1 Instinct and Experience, p. 36. * Op. eit., p. 45. » Op. cit., p. 51. v] Instinct and Intelligence 119 aspect of experience, it would seem, in the circumstances, a somewhat extraordinary admission. It is surely scarcely legitimate, in a genetic accoimt of experience, to begin by theoretically distinguishing object and subject in experience, and then to describe the development of the objective, in isolation from the subjective, when, in actual experience, no such development is possible or conceivable. It may, of course, imply the view, that there is in 'experiencing' something which is not 'experienced,' and that with this something a psycho- logical account of instinct has nothing to do. Such a view can only be accepted, if, and so far as, psychology can be shown necessarily to fail in giving an account of this factor. Before attempting a solution of the problem of meaning which all this really involves, it will be advisable to dispose of the problem of the relation of Instinct to Intelligence, by following out the discussion. We pass, therefore, in the next place, to Stout's attempted solution. Stout's views are not so definite as Lloyd Morgan's. On the one hand, he maintains j^ at aU instinctive b ehavio ur, is < as such, intelligently determined, but, _ofl.-Jhe_ other ..haiod, asserts or iraplies that there maS-^e intelligent behaviour, which_is not instinctively determined. On the one hand, he maintains that all instinctive action is accompanied by ex- perience, which is conative on the perceptual level from the very beginning; on the other hand, he urges that we require the term Instinct "to distinguish congenitally definite modes of behaATiour^." One explanation of the apparent inconsist- encies would be that he is vacillating between the two possible ways of regarding Instinct, the psychological and the biological. His argument starts with a very valuable and acute criticism of Lloyd Morgan's views, which, in most respects, is pretty much on the same lines of thought, which we have indicated. What mainly interests him is Lloyd Morgan's account of the process of learning by experience. "How can the actual * British Journal 0/ Psychology, vol. in, p. 245. Most of what follows was written before Stout's most recent pronouncement on 'Instinct' in the third edition of the Manual (1913), but, although we find ourselves in agreement with many of these later views, we have not seen reason to alter anything here. 120 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. process of learning by experience," he says, " which is supposed to generate intelligence, be itself entirely unintelligent? How can a series of experiences in the way of blind sensation and feeling result, on a subsequent occasion, in the open-eyed pursuit of an end? So far as I can discover, this is supposed to take place merely through the revival of past experiences by association. But the bare revival of an experience cannot be or contain more than the original experience itself. If this consist of blind sensation and feeling, so will its reproduction. No intelligent alteration of behaviour such as animals actually display could be accounted for in this way. The intelligence is shown in a more or less systematic modification of the whole conduct of the animal when a new situation arises resembling the old onei." He quotes an illustration from Lloyd Morgan's Hahib and Instinct. A chick had been taught to pick out pieces of yolk, from among pieces of white of egg. Bits of orange peel, cut so as to resemble the yolk, were then mixed with the white. One of these was seized, but almost immediately dropped. A second time a bit of orange peel was seized, held in the bill for a moment, and then dropped. Afterwards nothing would induce the chick to touch the peel. The orange peel was then removed, and pieces of yolk of egg substituted once more. For a time these were left untouched. Then the chick looked doubtfully, pecked tentatively, merely touching, finally pecked and swallowed. "How can such adaptive variation," he concludes, "in the whole method of procedure be explained by the mere repro- duction of meaningless sensations and feelings? On this view, when present sensations are combined with revivals of past sensations, both the present and the revived experiences will give occasion to their appropriate reactions. This, of itself, will only account for resultant movements, in which the difierent reactions will be combined in so far as they are compatible, and will neutralise each other so far as they are incompatible.... What actually happened in the case of the pieces of orange peel was that the chick, after learning its lesson, definitely ^ British Journal of Psychology, vol. m, pp. 242-3. v] Instinct and Intelligence 121 refiised from the outset to have anything to do with them. And when he is again presented with the piece of yolk his whole conduct is modified in a still more systematic way. He looks hesitatingly at the yolk; he then makes a tentative peck, only touching it, not seizing it. When this preliminary trial proves satisfactory, he pecks again, seizes and swallows. The original process in which the animal learned to behave in this manner, cannot, I think, have' been wholly unintelligent^." But Stout, in his description of the intelligent activity, which accompanies all instinctive activity, and differentiates it from reflex action, goes farther than we think the psycho- logist, in the meantime, should find it necessary to go. He apparently takes up the position that the operation of the "congenital prearrangements of the neuro-muscular mechanism for special modes of behaviour," as he regards Instinct, must be "sustained, controlled, and guided by intelligent interest in the pursuit of ends^." "Instead of a sequence of psychologic- ally isolated reactions, we find the unity of a single activity, developing itself progressively, through its partial phases towards its end^." _,_ The " psvchologically isolated reactions" are reflex actions. The word 'psychologically' is presumably used to emphasize the fact, that, though such actions possess a continuity in the underlying vital process, it is not a psychological continuity. But are the reactions themselves psychological? If they are not, why use the expression 'psychologically isolated' at all? On the other hand, is there any need to assume that a course of instinctive -behaviour possesses psychological — ^that is con- ative — unity and continuity from beginning to end ? Is it not more reasonable, from all we know at present, to suppose that Instinct itself appears as a single link, as it were, in a reflex "cEainTand ^^^S'SaaSi^v&v^^S^:^^^^X!f^^^^^^W^Sy^ic,a]. Integration ' — at first refers to that link alone, the continuity of the vital process accounting for the conSniJir^as a whole? — ""We" do not seem to fi5d anything inTnstinctive Behaviour, or the learning from experience which characterizes it, to render 1 British Journal of Psychology, vol. m, pp. 242-3, 2 Op. cit., p. 244. ' Loo. oit. 122 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH, it necessary for us to assume such conative unity and continuity, as Stout assumes, except in the case of the higher animals and man, and only in the latter is conative unity and continuity complete, with clear foresight of end, and relation of means to end. To hold the contrary is to find a great gap between reflex and instinctive activity. Moreover, if we take the analogy of habit in the human being — and in many ways this is a very helpful, though sometimes dangerous, analogy — we find habitual acts representing practically every grade from the unconscious reflex, as when we respond to a certain visual stimulus with the sound of a word in reading aloud, to the series of consciously controlled acts iavolved in playing a game like cricket, or in working at any skilled occupation or profession. Stout regards the instinctive endowment of man as insig- nificant, as displaying a "minimum of complexity and speciali- zation, so that careful scrutiny is required to detect its presence at alP." It is not surprising therefore that he finds it easy to conclude that there may be intelligent behaviour which is not at all instinctively determined. As regards this part of the argument, three observations require to be made. In the first place, he finds it possible to look on ' instinct ' as, strictly speaking, a purely biological term, employed to mark off "biological adaptations comparable to the prearrangements of structure and function, which, in human beings, subserve the digestion of food^." In view of his own previous discussion, such a restriction of the' meaning of the term is quite inad- missible. If this biological adaptation conditions in any way co- nation, interest, and perceptual meaning in experience, ' instinct ' must obviously be a psychological term, as well as a biologicaj, and the biological meaning wiU not serve in the psychological universe of discourse, as we have already tried to show. In the second place, intelligent behaviour in pursuit of ends may, in the process, show no trace of the instinctive. Yet it is incumbent upon Stout to show also that there are ends, which are not at all instinctively conditioned, before he can hold that there may be intelligent behaviour without a trace ' British Journal of Psychology, vol. tn, p. 245. " Op. cit., p. 243. v] Instinct and Intelligence 123 of Instinct. This he nowhere succeeds in doing, nor indeed attempts. In the third place, were it any psychologist but Stout, we should say that he tends to confuse capacity with tendency. That is at all events the effect of part of the argument. The "capacity for acquiring skill and knowledge^" he claims as not instinctive. In our sense of instinctive, it is not. But the tendency to acquire, the motive for acquiring, skill and know- ledge may, nevertheless, be instinctively conditioned. Ulti- mately, we believe, it is always so conditioned, so that the working out of. the capacity in intelligent behaviour will involve an instinctive element. Mozart's gift for music ^ was not instinctive, though his interest in music was probably instinc- tively conditioned. The congenital aptitude for music we do not call instinctive, but the congenital tendency we do. Hence there is no reason why we should not say that Mozart had an instinct for music, in precisely the same sense that we say Ammophila has an instinct to hunt caterpillars, in the sense, that is to say, of a certain experience being interesting, we know not how or why, and a certain action seeming the one and only proper thing to do in a certain situation. With the essential aspects of McDougall's view of Instinct we intend to deal later. We are therefore left with Myers, with whom, indeed, McDougall professes general agreement. According to Myers, Instinct and Intelligence are in reality inseparable— "But this statement seems to Tiave for him two meanings, sometimes the one meaning, and sometimes the other dominating his thought. With the statement, in one of its meanings, we are in agreement. On the one hand, we have the view, that "the separation of Instinct and Intelligence ,is.,a- purely axtificiaLact-oL.abs±fac^~ "^ tion^,*' because the relation of the one to the other is essentially similar to that of object to subject*. The separation between the two arises simply from our regarding behaviour from two points of Adew, from the inside, or from the outside, subjectively or objectively. So far as we regard behaviour from the inside, 1 British Journal of Psychology, vol. ni, p. 247. ^ Op. cit., p. 248. « Op. cit., p. 209. * Loc. cit. 124 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [oh. « it is characterized by finalism, and is therefore intelligent. So far as we regard it from the outside, it is characterized by mechanism, and is therefore instinctive. Instinctive behaviour can be regarde d in the former way "from the standpoint- ofjfche individual experieBice-jaf-thje„ organism^." Intelligent behaviour can equally be regarded in the latter way "from the standpoint of observing the conduct_of jjther organisms!." This view seems to be based upon the biological conception of Instinct as a nervous mechanism or neural prearrangement. Wherever experience can be shown to be present, we must assume that there is Intelligence. Consequently, since Instinct is differ- entiated from reflex action by the fact that experience is present. Instinct must necessarily involve Intelligence in every case. This is rather too simple an argument to represent Myers' real views. On the other hand, there is rimning through the whole treatment, though more or less obscurely, the recognition of behaviour as determined by ends which are 'innate,' and the meaning of Instinct, implied in the notion of instinctive impulse, as impulse determined by thisJ innate 'end. "When a mother sacrifices her life to save her child," he says, "does she recognize that she is acting instinctively'?" From our point of view, this second meaning of Instinct is the important one, in fact the only meaning, which can necessitate the discussion of Instinct by the psychologist, as such. Psychology, as aiming primarily at a description and ex- planation of experience, is primarily concerned only with the elements of experience, and the factors which directly condition experience, and so far as they directly condition it. A biological mechanism, as such, does not concern the psychologist. If this is necessarily the only view that can be taken of Instinct, then the psychologist must perforce agree with Stout, that the word and its meaning belong to the universe of discourse of biology, and not of psychology. But, in so far as this biological mechan- ism directly conditions experience, in so far as there are emotions and impulses, interests and ends, which we can describe as instinctive, just so far is the psychologist concerned with Instinct, but then also, for the psychologist. Instinct denotes ^ British Journal of Psychology, vol. rn, loo. cit. ^ Loc. cit. ' Op. oit., p. 215. v] Instinct and Intelligence 125 primarily those very emotions and impulses, interests and endsj and only secondarily the neural mechanism, or 'disposition,' with which they are correlated. It appears to us that Myers has failed to make good his contention, largely because, while conscious all the time of this possible way of regarding Instinct, he keeps it in the back- ground, and puts the biological view in the foreground. He maintains that Instinct and Intelligence are inseparable, that there is but one psychological function, 'instinct-intelligence,' because, in the most rudimentary instinctive behaviour, there are evidences of learning from experience, and therefore of Intelligence. But this is not sufSicient. This is only one half of the story. This does not meet Stout's argument that there is no instinctive factor, necessarily determining the behaviour of the highest intelUgence. Nor is it enough to say that, considered objectively, inteUigent behaviour may present the characteristics of being instinctive or 'mechanistic,' that, if we knew all the conditions determining our behaviour, we should "extend the mechanistic interpretation to ourselves^." From the psychological point of view, at least, the latter statement seems far from seK-evident. It is certain that, if we called our behaviour ' mechanistic,' we should contradict the evidence of our own experience. In fine, it must be confessed, that Myers has not proved his thesis. He has only proved that Intelligence is involved in all instinctive behaviour, and that is the basis of his definition of Instinct. Nevertheless, from his other point of view, Myers indicates the lines, along which his thesis may be satisfactorily estab- lished. He insists strongly on the. fact^ that .instinctive behaviouris con ative, , that Instinct determines ends. Now Intelligence, as such, does not determine ends. It only Revises means for their attainment, that is, if we are to 'understand Intel- ]igeilEi&~in"any~sense^ in "which it can be opposed to Instinct. Had this line of thought been pursued, the whole thesis could have been established forthwith. Unfortunately, it seems to us, this point of view is overlaid by the suggestive effect of two more or less misleading conceptions. The first of these is 1 British Journal of Psychology, vol. in, p. 217. 126 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. the conception of Intelligence as practically coextensive with experience or consciousness, in place of being merely the cog- nitive aspect of experience or consciousness, the suggestion from which thrusts Instinct aside from its proper place. The second is the thought underlying the subject-object analogy. Hardly anything could be so unhappy as the comparison of the relation between Instinct and Intelligence to the relation between object and subject in experience, for it is presumably the subject-object relation in experience, to which the reference is made. The suggestion of the analogy leads us to look for Instinct on the wrong side of experience, so to speak, as far as human behaviour is concerned. The conation of Instinct, the instinctive impulse, the instinct-feeling, fall on the subject, not the object side, and it is precisely these, which are the instinctive factors in developed intelligent behaviour. Had this line of argument been taken and developed by Myers from the start, it is questionable whether any difference of opinion, or, at least any essential difference of opinion, would have appeared on the part of any one of the five psychologists. It is of course the central feature of the teaching of McDougall in his Social Psychology. It is also in line with a great deal of Stout's teaching. Both Lloyd Morgan and WUdon Carr express themselves, as prepared in the main to agree to it. The latter, however, holds that this view "breaks down entirely, if called upon to explain or accoimt for those highly specialized and comphcated actions, that we meet with only in what we call the lower forms of life^." The former qualifies his acquies- cence by stating that the connotation of the term 'instinct,' which he has accepted, is accepted from his standpoint "as biologist and comparative psychologist^." If we have not already been successful in showing that Lloyd Morgan's point of view is sound for the biologist, but mistaken for the comparative psychologist, it is not Kkely that we shall be any more successful by prolonging the argument. In any case, we have nothing to add. Our answer to Wildon Carr is essentially on the same lines. If he asks that the psychological explanation should "explain and account for" 1 British Journal of Psychology, vol. m, p. 231. ^ Op. Cit., p. 229. v] Instinct and Intelligence 127 the whole fact, in the philosophical sense of explanation, then it must he conceded that this it cannot do. For the psycho- logical explanation is only intended to cover a part of the whole fact — the psychological part — just as the biological explanation is meant to cover the biological part. Together, and supple- mented by the physiological, chemical, and physical explana- tions, they may be said to cover the whole fact from the point of view of empirical science, but not even then from the point of view of philosophy, which requires that we show what the fact means in relation to other facts in an ordered imiverse, and in relation to the scheme of things as a whole. Upon the use of the terms ^'finalistiG' and 'mechanistic' by Myers,. in describing the two aspects from which behaviour may be regarded, Lloyd Morgan, in his Instinct and Experience, bases a long, important, and, from his point of view, sound argument on the principles that ought to be applied in a scien- tific explanation of the facts of life and experience. Most of the argument is entirely beyond the scope of the present discussion. The part of the argument, which might be available and applicable, is, in our opinion, largely invalidated by an identification, or apparent identification, of conation, or con- scious impulse, with preperception of end^. This identification also marks his paper on 'Instinct and Intelligence,' and the paper of Dr Myers appears to share in it. It seems to arise from what we cannot help regarding as a misconception of the nature of conation. It certainly carries a suggestion that tends towards misconception. Avoiding the wider issues raised, and confining ourselves to the psychological interpretation, we might enquire once more, with a view to a possible distinction b etween Instinct and Intelligence on this basis, how far intelligent behaviour caiT ever be regarded as characterized by mechanism. The psychologist may safely grant, that, if we knew all the conditions, we could prophesy the outcome in intelligent behaviour. He could, of course, take refuge in the plea that such knowledge is impossible, because each individual is unique, and, further, all the conditions are only known, when the act has taken 1 Instinct and Experience, pp. 287, 288, etc. 128 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [ch. place, even to the individual acting. But there is no need. The psychologist merely requires to point out that, among the conditions determining the act, there are some, of which no mechanistic, and at the same time psychological, account is possible, and no other than a psychological account can be called an account in any real sense. Take, for example, purpose. What mechanistic interpretation of purpose can be given, which wUl include all the facts, and what explanation, other than a psychological one, can be attempted? If a mechanistic explanation of instinctive behaviour, as such, can be given, and a mechanistic explanation of intelligent behaviour, as such, cannot be given, then theoretically, at least, it is possible, and indeed desirable, that we should separate and distinguish the two kinds of behaviour. But if instinctive behaviour comes within the purview of the psychologist, then a mechanistic explanation is impossible, since it involves experience, and it can be shown to involve conation, if only through the learning from experience which takes place. Hence, as far as psychology is concerned, the attempt to distinguish between Instinct and Intelligence on the basis of mechanism and finalism entirely breaks down. We find it possible, therefore, while differing from Myers on many points in the course of his argument, to agree with his main conclusions : (1) that there is no instinctive behaviour without an intelligent factor, and (2) that there is no intelligent behaviour without an instinctive factor. But we should prefer to express his final conclusions in somewhat different terms. " Throughout the psychical world there is but one physiological mechanism, there is but one psychological function^," which we should call experience, and not 'instinct-intelligence.' Experience is determined by the nature of the experiencer and the nature of the experienced object or situation, and, in the elementary case, this reduces itself, as we have seen, to 'instinct' and 'sensation.' But "pure instincts deprived of meaning are like pure sensations deprived of meaning ; they are psychological figments^." And this, because experience, as carrying meaning, involves both in relation to one another. 1 Instinct and Experience, p. 270. ^ Op. oit., p. 269. v] Instinct and Intelligence 129 With the development of ' psychical integration ' both sides develop, and their relation, that is experience, therefore expands into a meaning inclusive of more and more, till, in the human being, it may be inclusive of all things actual and possible, the universe in space, and history in time from the remotest past, and, in imagination, to the most distant future. But analyse the most elaborate and complex processes of thought, or the deepest and widest operations of the human reason, and we come in- evitably upon our two poles of all experience, determining for the individual the primary meaning of all. CHAPTER VI THE PSYCHOLOGICAL NATURE OP INSTINCT— INSTINCT-INTEREST AND 'MEANING' We are now in a position to take up the discussion of ' meaning.' The general position we shall try to defend is that the 'meaning' in instinct-experience is affective, not cognitive, on its first appearance^- This part of the discussion will also involve, therefore, the discussion of 'instinct-interest,' as fundamental in the 'primary tissue' of meaning. This aspect of Instinct we have up to now passed over somewhat lightly, but any psychological account of instinct-experience must necessarily be incomplete, which does not describe what Lloyd Morgan calls the emotional tone, but we prefer to regard as the interest of the situation, as well as the cognition of the situation in perceptual experience. Eeturning once more to the instinct-experience of Lloyd Morgan's moorhen, let us try to determine where meaning emerges, and to give some account of the synthesis or 'coales- cence' which takes place. As we have seen, Lloyd Morgan's own account of the genesis of meaning professes to be a render- ing of Stout's explanation of the 'acquirement of meaning^.' According to this view the 'acquirement of meaning' is de- pendent upon 'primary retention.' As we have also seen, the view presents difficulties for Lloyd Morgan, which are not felt by Stout, but even against Stout's statement of the theory we should hold that meaning emerges prior to the process called ' acquirement of meaning,' and this on grounds similar to those on which Stout himself bases his criticism of Lloyd Morgan's views. The psychological problem is the emergence of meaning in its most rudimentary form. Confusion will inevitably arise, 1 See Appendix I. ^ See Manual, p. 91 f. OH. vi] Instinct-Interest and 'Mecming' 131 unless, at the outset, we distinguish clearly between meaning, strictly so called, meaning in its root notion, and the more developed and more complex secondary meaning, which ought rather to be called 'significance.' Significance is a pointing forward of the present experience to some other coming and related experience or experiences. Hence it is always the outcome of experience, and we may legitimately speak of the 'acquirement of significance,' or the acquirement of 'secondary meaning.' Significance also impHes a certain synthesis, which may or may not be 'noetic,' but which, as far as behaviour is concerned, has the effect of 'noetic* synthesis, a synthesis in- volving 'psychical integration' which is inclusive of more than the immediate present. Primary meaning is something more fundamental, upon which significance depends. Essentially the 'primary tissue of experience' ought to be regarded as composed of meanings rather than of presentations or impres- sions. At all events the earliest conscious behaviour must be regarded as reaction to a meaning, without which reaction to a presented situation appears inexplicable. By a very interesting coincidence, Condillac and Bonnet^ both chanced to strike upon the same illustration, in order to explain how knowledge is built up. And this illustration is an excellent one for our present purpose. They imagined a statue, which was endowed with the five senses in succession, beginning with smell. The meaning they attached to * sensation ' was somewhat different from the meaning we attach to the term. But let us try to work out such a case with our meaning of sensation. All experience being of the nature of sensation, all know- ledge will be composed of sensations, combined through associa- tion, while meaning will be either of the nature of significance, that is secondary meaning, or of the nature of simple recognition of another of the same kind as one previously experienced, if we can speak of either significance or recognition, where every- thing due, either directly or indirectly, to the activity of the subject is eliminated. The sensations themselves must be ' Condillac, Traiti des Sensations. Bonnet, Essai Analytique sur les Facultds de VAme. See Erdmann, History of Philosophy, vol. ii, pp. 138 and 143. 9—2 132 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [ch. regarded as in some way determining 'psychical integration' and recognition. Under such conditions we could not have even perceptual experience, which involves the apprehension of a single and simple real, and implies also, as an essential element, primary meaning. The sensation is but one aspect of perceptual experience, and no number of sensations, as such, will give us the other aspect. Unfortunately we cannot get an illustration quite like the statue illustration, to enable us to realize the other aspect of perceptual experience. If we were to try to imagine pure mind active in an empty world, we should have the other side in a certain sense, but it is quite impossible to make such a thought definite. All we can say is that in this case we have form without content, as in the other we have content without form. And, after all, this does not bring us to the point at which we wish to arrive. For form without content is obviously nothing, while it is not quite clear that the content of the 'statue's' experience is entirely without form, since it appears to have some sort of pattern, determined by the nature of the world from which it proceeds. We may perhaps get a nearer approximation to what we want by imagining, instead of a statue with senses, a being with, say, three instinctive impulses, and the power of move- ment, but without senses. Endow this being with the single capacity of feeling satisfaction or the reverse. Place it in an environment, which is of such a kind, that movement in one direction will tend to satisfy, or lead to the satisfaction of, one impulse, movement in another direction to satisfy a second, and movement in a third direction the third. In this case the experience would consist of three different satisfactions succeed- ing each other in a quite random manner, since, on the hypo- thesis, there is no consciousness of the respective movements. Endow now this being with memory and a single sense— that of sight is easiest to work with — and observe the difference. Since an instinctive impulse, as such, is capable of being deter- mined by a specific object, the three instinctive impulses being assumed of equal strength, whichever is first determined by the vi] Instinct-Interest and ' Meam/ing' 133 apprehension of an objeet seen, will tend towards satisfaction. Neglecting the behaviour of such a being, we see that its experi- ence is an experience of a situation or object, seen and also felt. On analysis, the experience will necessarily be found to contain (a) a felt impulse, (6) a visually apprehended object or situation, and (c) a feeling of interest or ' worthwhileness,' passing into 'satisfyingness.' This interest it is not quite correct to call an interest in the visually apprehended object, nor an interest qualifying the impulse. It is essentially a feeling dependent upon the whole relation of impulse to object. We conclude, therefore, that, while perceptual experience cannot be imagined without two factors, it reaUy involves three, for with its constitution there emerges the interest of the situa- tion, which is its meaning, and which is for elementary experi- ence the most important element of the three. The emotional factor Lloyd Morgan recognizes, but he makes no use of it in his subsequent analysis of meaning. If, however, it is the meaning, and involves the apprehension of an object as a simple real, on the one side, and experience of the impulse, thereby determined and become conscious, on the other, it is of the very first importance. It is the very core of the experi- ence itself. We define then primary meaning as the feeling of relation between an object or a situation and an impulse towards that object or situation, that feeling being best described as interest or 'worthwhileness.' The same conclusion is arrived at in another way. It seems clear, that, in. order that an object should have any meaning for • us, there must be a reference to something that is not in the object, but in us. "Suppose that, by a miracle, a developed intelligence suddenly fell passionless, was moved by no desire, felt no pleasure or pain, hoped nothing, feared nothing, loved nothing, hated nothing. Would it not straightway tend towards extinction, and dwindle like a flame deprived of air? It would surely go out, and with it its world^." One might even go farther and say, it could never cognize a single object, it could never perceive, and it is doubtful how far it could even experience. On the other hand, as the writer quoted also ' Sturt, Principles of Understanding, p. 201. 134 The Psychological Nature of Instiiict [oh. points out, "the best observers now agree that the behaviour of the lowest active creatures cannot be explained by automatism, and that the movements of an amoeba, pursuing a smaller amoeba, imply cognition of an object^." Instinct-experience is cognition of an object or situation, never before cognized, because of the instinctive interest of the situation, that is, because of the felt relation of the object to an impulse which it determines as conscious impulse, and which seeks and finds its end with reference to it. This psychological analysis of primary meaning enables us to interpret the instinctive behaviour and experience of Lloyd Morgan's moorhen from another point of view. Though practically there is what may be called 'coalescence,' there is, strictly speaking, no 'coalescence' of 'puppy presentation' and behaviour experience. There is merely conative unity and continuity, the normal working out of the interest of a situation, and 'psychical integration.' 'Puppy presentation' does not seem adequately to describe the first part of the experience. There was cognition of an object, "puppy," de- termining and determined by an instinctive impulse, the origin of which must be sought in the race history of the moorhen, with felt interest or primary meaning, arising from this relation ; then there was the behaviour of the moorhen, determined by the situation and its meaning or interest, constituting the working out or satisfaction of the impulse and the interest, contributing secondary meaning to the original perceptual experience, and possessing primary meaning of its own, at all its experienced stages. Any emotional disturbance there may have been, over and above the interest of the situation, must be left over for later consideration, but, except for the part played in it by experiences from the internal organs, it was of a piece with the interest. The important point is, that there was meaning, as well as instinctive impulse, involved in the perceptual experience from the start; meaning was not given to the original presentation by some incomprehensible back- stroke from the resulting behaviour experience. • Principles of Understanding, loo. cit. Cf. Jennings, Behaviour of Lower vi] Instinct-Interest cmd ^Meaning' 135 Though we can analytically distinguish in perceptual ex- perience impulse, interest, and sensation, it is only by abstrac- tion that we do so. All three are necessary constituents of the perceptual experience, but all exist only as its constituents. One of the most futile of all attempts at psychological simplifi- cation appears to be the attempt to reduce all experience to sensation. Owing to the nature of mental process, we can make the sensational element in perceptual experience the object of cognition, but we can make neither the impulse nor the interest the direct object of cognition. The one always, from its very nature, falls on the subject side, the other, as a felt relation, on the subject side also, though, as a relation, it can fall on neither side. Hence, as James, was it not, pointed out, to try to cognize impulse or interest as object is like trying to turn round rapidly so as to see our own eyes looking. If we analyse the object side of experience, we must inevitably find nothing but sensation ; nevertheless we experience both impulse and interest, and to deny their existence as ultimate constituents of experience is to deny experience in a twofold sense, to deny its evidence and to deny its existence. At the same time it must be recognized that impulse, interest, and sensation are not on quite the same footing as constituents of perceptual experience. Impulse becomes deter- minate conscious impulse only in relation to the nature of the object, and in perceptual experience of the object; sensation, dependent upon the nature of the object, can only be said to exist, as such, in the other term of the relationship in perceptual experience ; interest is the relationship felt as primary meaning. There is no succession or sequence in time, but impulse may be said to be logically prior to the cognitive aspect of the perceptual experience, and both impulse and sensation to its affective aspect or interest. Nevertheless we must regard interest as the central and relatively stable factor in behaviour experience, preserving, as it were, the character of the initial and under- lying impulse, while subordinate impulses and determining sensations proceed in the working of it out. The caUing of interest the ' primary tissue of meaning ' seems to require some further explanation. The chief difficulty for 136 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [oh. this conception arises from the fact, that, when we use the term ' meaning,' we generally use it in a logical, rather than a psycho- logical reference. Hence, when we think of meaning at all, we are apt to think of logical meaning, and to talk of this as interest seems rather absurd. But meaning is also a phenomenon of experience, and, as such, demands a psychological explanation. This is not the place to develop a psychological theory of meaning. Still the main points of such a theory seem to be necessary in order to justify our position. That position is briefly the following. Primary meaning must be distinguished from secondary. Secondary meaning is acquired through experience, but primary meaning is involved in the first instinct-experience. In secondary meaning two elements can be distinguished, a cognitive and an affective, and to the cognitive element in secondary meaning the term 'significance' in its strict sense may be applied. Primary meaning, or the primary tissue of meaning, is affective only, is interest. The psychology of meaning has always presented difficulties, and more especially to the psychologist of sensationaUstic bias. Such a psychologist will probably reject our interpretation of primary meaning at once. In his analysis of experience he finds meaning represented by image and by nothing else. But, if a psychologist in analysing experience looks only for a parti- cular kind of psychical element, the chances are that he will find only what he looks for. The sensationalist will of course deny the insinuated accusation. But, if he refuses to recognize as a psychical element, anything which cannot be attended to in introspective analysis of consciousness, it seems obvious that he is only looking for a certain kind, or certain kinds of psychical elements, those which can be attended to. We may take Titchener as a type of the mode of thought we are calling sensationalistic. It goes without saying that a psychologist of Titchener's calibre will not consciously err in this way. Nevertheless the bias keeps showing itself, and always characteristically. Thus he replies to Biihler's "It is impossible to ideate a meaning; one can only know it," with " Impossible ? But I have been ideating meanings all my life. And not only meanings but meaning also. Meaning in general vi] Instinct-Interest and 'Meaning' 137 is represented in my consciousness by another of these impres- sionist pictures. I see meaning as the blue-grey tip of a kind of scoop, which has a bit of yellow above it (probably a part of the handle), and which is just digging into a dark mass of what appears to be plastic material.... It is conceivable that this picture is an echo of the oft-repeated admonition to 'dig out the meaning' of some passage of Greek or Latin^." The inference seems to be, at this point at any rate — for we would not willingly misrepresent Titchener — ^that meaning is analyzable into imagery. Sometimes he finds that there are kinaesthetic, as well as visual images. "Not only do I see gravity, and modesty, and pride, and courtesy, and stateliness, but I feel or act them in the mind's muscles^." And, later on in the same work, he comes to the conclusion that "meaning is originally kinaes- thetic ; the organism faces the situation by some bodily attitude, and the characteristic sensations, which the attitude involves, give meaning to the process that stands at the conscious focus, are psychologically the meaning of that process^." This last is practically Lloyd Morgan's 'behaviour experience.' y^Q have no quarrel with Titchener's inference from such facts to the non-existence of imageless thought, if by the exist- ence of imageless thought we mean, that there is a third order of substantive cognitional element, say the concept*, in addition to percept and image. Also it must be said that there are few more subtle psychological analysts than Titchener, so that any conclusions to which he has come, as a result of psychological analysis, must be treated with respect. Still there is always the sensationaUst bias to be discounted, and assuredly it appears to have influenced the analysis here. To say that meaning is psychologically a kind of 'scoop' is not the same as saying that it is represented in consciousness, when he tries to think of it, by such an image. Quite apart from this criticism, which is after all somewhat superficial, there are two fundamental criticisms of this view of meaning. The ^ Titchener, Experimental Psychology of the Thought Processes, pp. 18, 19. ' Op. cit., p. 21. » Op. cit., p. 176. * See Avelmg, Consciousness of the Universal. 138 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. first is that which we, following Stout, urged against Lloyd Morgan's theory of the process of learning by experience in instinctive behaviour. The experiences of bodily attitude in facing a situation — ^the very fact that the earliest meaning is found in these is itself very significant to us — may qualify the meaning of that situation for subsequent experience, and the kinaesthetic imagery may come to represent the meaning of that situation in subsequent thought of it, but the primary meaning, without which there could be no such secondary meaning, must be in the first experience of the situation, and prior to the behaviour experience. The second is, that the kind of experience, upon the analysis of which he relies for his discovery of the psychological nature of meaning, is precisely that in which psychological, as distinct from logical, meaning is most difficult to find. The latter statement is obvious if our analysis of meaning is correct. Introspection, under the conditions even of the Association Experiment, may fail to reveal anything in con- sciousness, except visual, auditory, or kinaesthetic imagery, as far as the cognitive aspect is concerned, and yet we may still be able to maintain that imagery is not meaning. As a matter of fact, the results of association experiments, devised and carried on by Marbe, Ach, Messer, Watt, Woodworth, and others, for the express purpose of throwing light upon the thought processes, have not been negative, but positive, as regards our present contention or its implications, and against the contentions of sensationalists, in spite of Titchener's efiorts to explain these results away, and telling in favour of views expressed long ago by psychologists, otherwise differing so widely from one another, as Wundt, James, and Stout. Thus Watt found that "what distinguishes a judgment from a mere sequence of experiences is the problem^," that "the repro- ductive tendencies represent the mechanical factor in thinking, while the problem is what makes it possible that ideas shall be significantly related^," and Marbe that "all experiences may become judgments, if it lies in the purpose of the experiencing • Experimental Psychology of the Thought Processes, p. 120. 2 Op. cit., p. 175 vi] Instinct-Interest and 'Meaning' 139 subject, that they shall accord, either directly or in meaning, with other objects^." These results are probably as much as we can expect this kind of experiment to yield^. But, after all, the laboratory results merely confirm the results of introspection undfer everyday conditions of everyday experience, and so far have added little, if anything, to these results. Meaning, in its most obvious and easily recognizable shape, is an attribute of what we might call the wholes of experience, and it is meaning that largely determines that they should be the wholes of experience. I am ' at a loose end,' and taking up a magazine, turn over the pages idly, until I am arrested by the title of an article, " Eskimo Traditions and the Discovery of America by the Norsemen," let us say, though whether there ever was such an article in any magazine, we do not know. This title has meaning for me both primary and secondary, or both meaning and significance. It has meaning because I am deeply interested in Old Norse history; it has significance because it refers to events of history, with which I am already familiar, though from a new standpoint. Hence, before I have read a word of it, the article has meaning for me, meaning both affective and cognitive, and it has a meaning whole. As the reading progresses, this meaning whole is con- tinuously modified, on the ajffective side by the satisfaction of interest here, the development of new interest there, on the cognitive side by becoming continuously more definite and particularized. But the meaning of every word is with reference to the sentence that contains it, of every sentence to the para- graph, of every paragraph to the meaning whole. To say that this or that part of the meaning is not in my consciousness at any particular moment is, it appears to us, to speak unpsychologically, just as much as to say that part of the meaning at any moment is in the form of a physiological state determining consciousness. The facts for psychology are, that the experience at any moment cannot be divided without remainder into the particular percepts and images of that moment, and that the remainder is explicable only in terms of the ' Experimental Psycliology of the Thought Processes, p. 128. 2 See MoDougall, Body and Mind, chap. xxii. 140 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. meaning whole and its progressive determination up to that point. Or, take an example from perceptual experience, that will perhaps be more relevant to our purpose, which is the analysis, not of thought processes in general, but of instinct-experience. I am engaged in a game of cricket, and have just gone in to bat, to open the innings, let us say. The bowler delivers the first ball, apparently straight for my legs. Under ordinary circum- stances, if any one threw a fairly large, round, hard object like a cricket ball at my legs, I should get hastily out of the way. But in cricket the meaning of the situation is different, and prompts to behaviour of a different kind, mainly because of the particular determination of the cricket interest which is dominant at the time — to keep up the wicket and make runs. I might even have seen something in the delivery of the bowler, which was significant of a break on the ball, and prepare for the event, so that the kind of meaning we are caUing significance might also be involved, in this form, if not in any other. What should we find on introspective analysis of conscious- ness in such a case? We may analyse the presented situation into a sensation-complex. But what of the meaning of that situation which determines behaviour towards it? There is not much time for imagery, if we consider that the simple reaction to the visual stimulus will take about a fifth of a'second, and, by that time, the ball is almost on the batsman. But let us grant some kinaesthetic imagery of the movements about to be made. Is this the meaning? Surely not. It seems clear that the meaning of the perceptual situation is primarily in its relation to my aim, purpose, or 'need' at the moment, which relation defines itself in consciousness as the interest of the situation. To prevent the possibility of mis- understanding this expression 'defines itself,', it is necessary to point out that the interest is not a fixed state of consciousness, but is a qualification of the dynamic of the living activity dealing with the situation, and therefore changes with the changing phases of that activity. Summing up once more our whole view with regard to interest and meaning, we may say that meaning is a relation, vi] Instinct-Interest and 'Meaning' 141 either of the situation to the self, or of the situation, as a part, to the whole of which it is a part, or of the situation, as part of a whole, to the other parts of the whole. Primary meaning is affective, secondary meaning both affective and cognitive, and inclusive of significance, as we have seen. Secondary meaniag therefore covers the relational elements, constituting mealning on the objective side, and is essentially based upon primary meaning, both as regards its affective, and as regards its cognitive aspect, for a whole is a whole, and a part a part, in cognitive meaning, only through the fundamental relation to the self, that is, through primary meaning or interest. We ought now to be able to get a clearer notion of the interest factor involved in instinct-experience. One writer has described instinctive behaviour as our "instinctive prosecu- tion of the interest of a situation^." All conscious behaviour may be described in the same way, as the conscious prosecution of the interest of a situation, the situation being perceptual, ideally represented, or conceptual. Interest is the universal characteristic of behaviour-experience. It is also the primary meaning of a situation, in that it is the immediate consciousness of a relation between self and presented situation, a relation that is primarily /eZ«. The only aspect in which instinct-interest differs from interest in general, is that it is not determined by or derived from previous experience of the situation, or due to needs which have arisen as a result of experience, but is due to original needs, of the determination and modification of which the biologist professes to give an account in his evolution theory. Beyond these statements, can we give any further accoimt of instinct iaterest or of interest in general? At first sight it does not appear that we can. The main difficulties in the way seem to be two, the first arising from the nature of language, which is fitted to express either cognition or action, but not to express the felt relation that mediates between them, the second arising from the fact that interest seems to be the very factor in experience, which introspection finds the greatest difficulty in reaching, just because it is the central factor. 1 Mitchell, Structure and Growth of the Mind, p. 125. 142 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. « Nevertheless interest is a factor in experience, and, in spite of these difficulties, its description ought not to be impossible. At all events the attempt further to describe it must be made, and the attempt should at least indicate by questions where the main problems lie. On several occasions previously we have described interest as a feeUng of ' worth whUeness.' The first question is as regards the reference of the ' worthwhileness.' What is it that is felt as ' worth while ' ? Is it the perceived situation or ob j ect ? Or is it a certain action towards that situation or upon that object? Or is it the situation arising from the action? The answer seems to be that it is all three in a certain sense, but the sense will depend upon the degree of ' psychical integration.' Interest is dynamic, not static, that is, it is always transition in living experience. In purely perceptual experience, situation and action towards situation practically 'coalesce,' and there is transition in feeling from 'worthwhileness' to ' satisfyingness ' or ' dissatisfyingness.' The whole experience is in the present, but it is a changing present. Where the degree of 'psychical integration' is high, the 'worthwhileness' attaches primarily to the result as end, spreads to present situation, and action towards present situation, as means, but, as before, the prose- cution of the interest involves the transition to ' satisfyingness ' with progress towards the attainment of the end, or 'dissatis- fyingness ' with failure to make progress. In the event of the transition being from 'worthwhileness' to 'dissatisfyingness,' the interest in either case, that is with the lowest as with the highest degree of 'psychical integration,' will take on the form of emotion, which we shall discuss more fully later. The second question is as regards the 'qualities' of interest which are distinguishable in experience. So far we have men- tioned the three possible phases of interest as ' worthwhileness,' 'satisfyingness,' and 'dissatisfyingness,' each evidently involv- ing a definite quale of experience. It must be recognized that this is the exceedingly difficult psychological problem of the qualities of afiective experience. Consequently the solution we offer must not be taken as laid down in any dogmatic spirit, but rather as a tentative suggestion. We should be inclined vi] Instinct-Interest amd 'Meoming' 143 to take these qualities as the fundamental and ultimate qualities of affective experience, and these three alone. This appears to involve the denial of ultimate qualitative differences between emotions on the affective side. But it reaUy involves the explanation of these qualitative differences on a basis other than the interest as such. Without anticipating our discussion of the emotions, and their relation to Instinct, we should suggest that the undeni- able qualitative differences between different emotions may be explained thus. So far as the prosecution of the instinct- interest takes its normal course, and ' worth whileness' passes normally into 'satisfyingness,' through the definite behaviour provided for by the neural prearrangement we call Instinct, when we are speaking biologically, so far there is no emotion. But if in any way this normal prosecution of the instinct- interest is checked, 'tension' will arise, a tension in feeling which is emotion. The difference between this 'tension' and the simple instinct-interest or 'worthwhileness' is a difference in the affective consciousness in some respects analogous to the difference between conception and perception in the cog- nitive. That is to say, feeling 'tension' represents a further, though secondary, development of affection. None the less is it for experience purely affective. The qualitative differences between the different emotions cannot be explained in terms of the organic resonance, though this will undoubtedly accentuate the differences, nor can they, we believe, be explained in terms of the experienced impulse, the conation, but only in terms of qualitative differences in affection. The feeling 'tension,' therefore, which is emotion, must show these qualitative differences. But that there should be affective differences in the felt 'tension' or emotion, which are not in the original affective element, from which the ' tension ' arises, can apparently only be explained, though itself not impulse but affection, as the effect of the urgency of a particular impulse, temporarily denied the appropriate issue in action. An illustration of emotion, fairly low down the scale of organic life, which seems entirely unambiguous, and is therefore valuable, is given by the Peckhams in describing the behaviour 144 The Psychological Naiwre of Instinct [CH. of an Ammophila : " Her stops were so frequent and so lengthy that nearly an hour was occupied in going about twenty-five feet. When, at last, the nest was reached, the plug was removed from the entrance and the caterpillar dragged in, but almost immediately the wasp came out backwards with the point of an egg projecting from the extremity of her abdomen. She ran roimd and round the nest in a distracted way four or five times and then went back, dragged the caterpillar out, and carried it away. The egg came out further and further, and finally dropped on the ground and was lost^." This illustration from insect hie emphasizes one character- istic of the emotion, which is perhaps too often forgotten, and that is its ineffectiveness in securing its end, when roused in an excessive degree. We should not like to assert that this is characteristic of all emotions, but it is certainly characteristic of most. The illustration also shows us one kind of circum- stance, imder which the 'tension' of feeling, which is emotion, will be produced, that is, when the urgency of the impulse is such that action cannot keep pace with it. Another kind of circumstance, under which 'tension' will arise, is when there is no inherited provision for the precise reaction which is appropriate to a particular situation. Looking at the matter from a biological standpoint, we see that the survival value of precise reactions for particular situations is distinctly limited to a stable and not too complex environment. In a changing and complex environment plasticity of reaction, that is to say, the lack of a fixed provision for particular reactions to particular situations, may involve a biological advantage, in spite of the fact that the plasticity involves some delay of reaction, and therefore some feeling 'tension.' Hence in the higher animals and man we should expect to find, as we do find, plasticity of reaction, and going along with this, and fari fassu with it, signs of emotional development. In addition to this felt 'tension,' as an affective experience, which is due to the temporary suspending of the normal tran- sition from ' worth whileness ' to ' satisfyingness,' we must also recognize another affective quality, in the vague 'restlessness' * Wcisps Social and Solitary, p. 47. vi] Instinct-Interest and 'Meaning' 145 or 'uneasiness,' which, is present when a 'need' is neither definite nor determinate, but is merely a 'need' of something else than the present experience affords. This affective state, while evidently in the main a variety of ' dissatisfyingness,' seems to be emotional and complex. The usual view that 'pleasure' and 'pain' are the funda- mental qualities of our affective consciousness is not quite so easily reconciled with our view regarding the fundamental characteristics of affection, nor indeed with our whole position as regards the nature of instinct-experience. To some extent the view is a popular, rather than psychological, view, since both terms connote a considerable variety of affective experience. There is no real difficulty about pleasure, which, where it has not an emotional character, may be regarded as on the whole synonymous with our 'satisfyingness.' What we call pain, oil the other hand, may or may not be 'dissatisfyingness.' Generally it is more. In fact pain, so far as it is affective, is usually emotional, or at least may be explained as emotional. The relation of pleasure and pain to action, is, however, so important that we must consider the question in its wider bearings, and, in the course of the discussion, the real nature of pain, in the usual sense as an affective experience, will become clearer. We have all along taken for granted, that, in describing instinct-experience, we were describing the original form of all experience, and we have maintained that it is impossible to understand instinct-experience in any other way than as perceptual experience. In other words, we have maintained that our description holds of the most elementary experience, such experience as an amoeba, for example, if it has experience at aU, must have. The chief difficulty for such a view will arise in connection with the pleasure-pain factor in experience. In many quarters the opinion is strongly held that, though instinctive behaviour may be determined in some such way as described, that is independently of previous agreeable or disagreeable experience, yet it cannot be denied that behaviour is also determined as a result of agreeable or disagreeable experiences, and, in such cases, the meaning or interest being D. 10 146 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. taken as the agreeableness or disagreeableness, we cannot hold that the impulse is prior to it, either logically or temporally, while perceptual experience does not seem the starting-point of the behaviour, and may not indeed form part of the behaviour- experience at all. The difficulty is undeniable, but possibly not insoluble. If we accept such a view with regard to behaviour originating in agreeable or disagreeable feelings, it appears to involve either giving up the view that in Instinct we have the sole original driving forces in human nature, or defining Instinct in such a way as to include such cases of behaviour determined originally by agreeable or disagreeable experience, and therefore giving up the view that instinct-experience is, as such, per- ceptual experience. Are we compelled to choose one of these alternatives? There seems to be one way of avoiding the difficulty and escaping the alternatives, and that is by a view, which again it would be absurd to present in a dogmatic way, which can only be put forward as a hypothesis, but which seems to explain the facts, without involving the abandonment of our position with regard to instinct-experience and instinctive behaviour. The hypothesis depends upon the sensational character of pain. Practically aU sensations are either agreeable or dis- agreeable, but pain, as a sensation, is nearly always disagreeable. Hence the painful has become identified with the disagreeable, or rather the highly disagreeable, in all sensations, and has been opposed to the pleasant, whereas painful, or something corresponding to it, was origiaally a sensational quality with no opposite. That pain really is an independent sensation can hardly be doubted, with the accumulating evidence we now have. The exploration of pain spots, the experiments of Dr Head and his assistants^, abnormal conditions, artificial or morbid, all point that way unmistakably. The extraordinary case of natural analgesia, quoted by Ribot^, of an intelligent and suc- cessful professional man, who had as little sensation of pain as a 1 Brain, xxvra (1905), p. 99. • Psychology of the Emotions, p. 33, footnote. vi] Instinct-Interest and 'Meaning' 147 marble statue, who bit off his own wounded finger, and under- went various surgical operations without anaesthetic, has always seemed to us impossible of interpretation, except on the analogy of the blind or the deaf. There is still, however, the difficulty with regard to the extent to which pain sensation will determine cognition of an object or situation in perceptual experience. Pain, it has been asserted, as a sensation does not externalize itself^, that is, does not determine the perception of an object. Now this may be the case with the human being, but it does not seem to settle the matter. The question really is whether pain as sensation could, under any conceivable conditions, determine the cognition of an object or situation, as, for example, sight does in the case of the human being, whether it has cognitive value in this sense. And we must discriminate. It may be that for us the cognitive value of pain as sensation is not zero, but infinitesimally small. But for us cognition is determined by sight, hearing, touch, taste, smeU, and so on. Imagine an organism mth all the other senses wanting, and with only the pain sense, or what corresponds to it under these conditions. Such may be the lowest organisms, in which there is some slight trace of experience ; such in all likelihood they are. Our perceptual world is largely a world of visible and audible things. Helen Keller's world is a world of things tactual. She longed to "touch the mighty sea and feel its roar." On the other hand, taste and smell have for us a very much lower cognitive value with less pronounced objective reference. In fact the agreeableness or disagreeableness of a smell — -especially the latter — is much more prominent in our experience than its quality or its objective reference. For a dog, on the contrary, smeU must have a much higher cognitive value, that is, relative to his other senses, and apparently still more for lower forms of life. In the organism, which is confined to pain sensation or its analogue, there seems no reason to deny that pain may function in determining cognition of an object or situation. The ex- perienced world of such an organism must be narrow, and ' See Ribot, Psychology of the Emotions, p. 38. 10—2 1 48 The Psychological Nature of Instinct [CH. apparently monotonous, though that is by no means certain. But that it has an experienced world of some kind may reason- ably be maintained. If the possibility of an experienced world of objects or perceptual situations, mediated by pain sensation, or what corresponds to it, is admitted, our main theoretical difficulty has disappeared. It is not easy for us to imagine the nature of such experience, or to express it even if we could imagine it. For we do not seem to be able to revive the sensa- tional element of pain as image, and our language is the con- ceptual analysis and synthesis of our own experience. Never- theless we might attempt to characterize such experience in a general way, and, in so doing, we must inevitably fall back upon the form of our previous description of instinct-experience. There is impulse, becoming conscious and determinate in relation to pain sensation, which is conditioned by the nature of the object or situation, the result being perceptual experience of a situation, perceptual experience of a kind we cannot imagine, yet not unintelligible to us. Further there is meaning or interest, which, in the 'tension' form is quite intelligible to us, if we consider it as the disagreeableness or pain affection. The interest, as such, is not logically or temporally prior to impulse and sensation, but temporally simultaneous with, and logically posterior to both. There is nothing inherently absurd in regarding sense pain, on its afiective side, as of an emotional nature, in our sense of emotional, in a primordial consciousness. The emotional experience of an organism, the whole of whose presented world of situations is mediated by pain sensation, would almost in- evitably be as undifferentiated as its sense experience. With the usurping of the cognitive function of this primordial sensation by the more highly differentiated special senses, there has gone the development of an equally differentiated affective life. Pain now corresponds simply to disorganization, not only disorganization of the physical organism, but also disorganization of this primordial experience through the sub- merging of the cognitive function of the original sense, and the consequent impossibiUty of the development of a normal impulse or interest. If among experiences of the pleasant vr] Instinct-Interest and 'Meaning' 149 there ia any element which cannot be explained, as already suggested, in terms of 'satisfyingness,' it would be interpreted in the same way. In this case, however, the lack of any special sensations of the same nature as pain sensations would con- stitute a rather formidable difficulty. From the general point of view, therefore, of the nature of instinct-experience, pain does not present an insoluble diffi- culty. It must, however, be granted that, in the human being, pain in its affective phase, as it were, originates the impulse to avoid it or escape from it, and that prior to cognition of object or situation. It must also be granted that, in the human being, in addition to the instinctive springs of action, or motive forces which determine behaviour prior to individual experience, pleasure and pain are also motive forces depending upon indi- vidual experience. Our solution of the difficulty is mainly of theoretical interest, but we shall later include the so-caUed appetites among human instincts, and these seem to difEer from the instincts proper in an analogous way. The suggested psychological view is, therefore, that sense pain, and the uneasiness which determines the appetites (specific), represent the emotional or 'tension' form of the interest of the most primitive consciousness, the cognition of which was in terms of a sensation or sensations of which pain sensation is the survival, and that the interests of the human being are on a higher stage of affective development, correlated on the cognitive side with the development and differentiation of the cognitive element dependent on the nature of objects or situations, through the development and differentiation of the other avenues of sense experience. CHAPTER VII CLASSIFICATION OF INSTINCTIVE TENDENCIES OF MAN- INSTINCT AND EMOTION The basis of the developed mind and character of man must be sought iu the original and inborn tendencies of his nature. From these all development and education must start, and with these all human control, for the purposes of education and development, as for the purposes of social and community life, must operate. These are more or less truisms, but they are truisms which have been ignored in much of the educational practice of the past, and in many of the best-intentioned efforts at social reorganization and reform. The original human nature, with which the psychologist is concerned, consists, first of all, of capacities, such as the capacity to have sensations, to perceive, to reason, to learn, and the like, and, secondly, of conscious impulses, the driving forces to those activities without which the capacities would be meaningless. To the latter we are applying the term 'Instinct.' We have tried to describe what is psychologically involved in Instinct; we must now enter upon a study of the manifestations of Instinct in Man. It seems hardly necessary to emphasize once again the factJ, that the psychologist's problems are different from the biologist's, in precisely the same way in which the meaning of Instinct for the psychologist differs from its meaning for the biologist. The biologist, as we have seen, is concerned with animal behaviour in reference to its biological origins and biological results. He argues from the behaviour, and the conditions which determine it, to the existence of a more or less modifiable OH. vii] Instinct and Emotion 151 nervous structure, of which the behaviour is the functioning, and which he attempts to explain biologically, and the physio- logist physiologically. The psychologist is concerned with the experience, which underlies, we may say, instinctive behaviour, determines that it is perceptual experience, and that it involves a characteristic impulse and interest. Both the biologist and the psychologist will naturally attempt to describe the whole fact as it appears to them, and, in doing so, the biologist may refer to experience, and the psychologist to nervous structure; but they will only be fully intelUgible to one another, so long as they realize that they are concerned essentially with different aspects, and that experience cannot be described in terms of the one science, any more than nervous structure can be described in terms of the other. This constant emphasis upon the contrast between the psychological and the biological point of view would not be necessary, were it not for the fact that the prevailing view of Instinct, during the last generation or so, has been the biological, the result being that we have become accustomed to oppose animal behaviour to human behaviour, regarding the one as typically instinctive, the other as -typically intelligent, and also to maintain that the instincts and instinctive tendencies of human nature are insignificant. Had the psychologist been clear as regards the psychological nature of Instinct, this position could not have developed. For, though perceptual experience is more and more overlaid by the higher mental processes, it always underlies them, and, though control of primitive impulse becomes more and more complex, it is always a control by that which draws its controlling force, ultimately and fundamentally, from primitive impulses, never a control ab extra. The psychology of the present day is much indebted to McDougall for his constant emphasis upon this latter principle, though, as we have already seen, Hutcheson, Hume, Schopen- hauer were no less emphatic. It must be confessed, however, that there are at least two rather formidable difficulties with regard to the recognition and enumeration of the instinctive tendencies of man. The one is that indicated by James^, the ' Principles of Psychology, vol. II, p. 390. 152 Classification of Instinctive Tendencies of Mem [CH. fact that there is foresight of the end on every occasion, save the first, of acting out an instinctive impulse, and the human being cannot therefore be said to act instinctively save on the first occasion. The other, which is more serious, is that in man an instinctive impulse is comparatively seldom definite and determinate, with regard either to the objects or situations, in connection with which it becomes conscious, or to the actions or modes of behaviour to which it leads. This latter difSculty is probably the main explanation of the opinion so very generally held, and expressed, as we have seen, by a psychologist of the standing of Stout, that in the human being the instincts are relatively few and unimportant. The tendency to behttle the influence of Instinct on the behaviour of man was accentuated by the constant discussion, on the part of the biologist, of that very type of instinctive behaviour, which is most remote from human instinct, the instinctive behaviour of insects, hke the ant, the bee, the wasp, 'pure' instinct, as the biologist termed it. 'Pure' instinct of this type, it must be admitted, though not whoUy absent from human nature, especially in the early stages of child develop- ment, is relatively unimportant in the developed life and experi- ence of the adi4t human being. But such instinct is 'pure,' precisely because, and in so far as, the accompanying experience is 'pure' perception, because, and in so far as, the consciousness is a 'present moment' consciousness, the mental life a series of sparks or flashes. The discussion of 'pure' instinct by the biologist is easily understood. In this type of instinct, he feels that he can describe the whole fact more adequately in biological terms, because there is apparently but a slight departure from reflex action, the departure being, it is true, due to the only factor, which he cannot describe in biological terms, but that factor seemingly playing an insignificant part in the whole, so insig- nificant that he could neglect it, and without great error regard instinctive action as merely compound reflex action, as Spencer did. Further, it is behaviour that concerns the biologist, and, in the case of 'pure' instinct, the functioning of an original vii] Instinct and Emotion 153 nervous structure comes very near being a full explanation of all the observed facts of the behaviour. In the adult human being, on the contrary, the functioning of an original nervous structure can explain but a small part of the whole fact. If then the psychologist adopts the standpoint of the biologist, as several psychologists have done, and looks only for 'pure' instinct in man, he easily finds it possible to hold that this is to all intents and purposes absent, that it can be ignored in psycho- logy, and that the human being differs from the animal in respect that his behaviour is controlled by ideas and purposes, while the animal's behaviour is controlled by feelings and instincts. We have seen that many of the older psychologists did not take this view, recognizing that the original springs of human action are either instinctive or of the instinctive order, and th(at human reason is in the main appUed in the seekiag out of means for the attainment of ends, determined ultimately by these original instinctive forces. McDougall has recently revived the view of these older psychologists, and it is the view which we also intend to adopt. In what follows, therefore, we shall deal mainly with those impulses in the human being, which have been generally acknowledged to be instinctive or innate, concentrating attention, like McDougall, upon those which seem to be of primary importance for education and for com- munity life, rather than upon those which may be regarded as manifestations of 'pure' instinct, unless these are important on other grounds. We cannot, however, adopt the general point of view of McDougall without at least mentioning the fact that there is another way of dealing with the human instincts, in support of which a strong line of argument may be developed. No one can fail to be struck in reading James's account of human instincts^ with the very heterogeneous nature of the group of native tendencies discussed. From highly specific types of behaviour, like sucking, or carrjdng an object grasped to the mouth, he passes to such general modes of behaviour as those shown imder the influence of the play tendency and curiosity, of emulation and imitation, without radicating that there is 1 Principles of Psychology, vol. ii, chap. xxiv. 154 Classification of Instinctive Tendencies of Man [CH. any marked difference between actions determined by instinc- tive tendencies at the one extreme, and actions determined by those at the other. At the very beginning of his treatment of instincts, James deprecates the method of classif3dag "definite tendencies by naming abstractly the purpose they subserve, such as self- preservation, defence," and the like^, and insists further that the strict psychological way of regarding instincts is to regard them as actions, which " all conform to the general reflex type^," that is the type of a definite response to a definite situation. It seems as objectionable to speak of an instinct of imitation, or play, or curiosity, as it is to speak of an instinct of self- preservation, if we apply to human instincts the criteria, which, James wishes to apply. As it turns out, he himself finds it convenient to ignore his own criteria, as soon as he comes to discuss the more important human instincts and instinctive tendencies, and for a reason, which we shall presently find to be psychologically very significant. A more recent writer has revived James's criteria, and ako the point of view from which James starts, and has, with some success, maintained this point of view throughout his discus- sion of human instincts*. Thorndike, looking upon instinctive tendencies as tendencies to respond with a definite response to certain definite situations, makes an elaborate attempt to displace "the vague facts that man has instincts of 'pugnacity,' ' gregariousness,' ' cruelty,' ' curiosity,' ' constructiveness,' ' play,' and the like*," by a description of the definite responses to definite situations, which are, in his opinion, what we reaUy find in human nature, and what we classify in this way merely for convenience, but not without sacrificing to some extent, or at least imperilling, a sound psychology. We might admit — ^though as a matter of fact we do not— that Thorndike's position is theoretically sound, and yet prefer to adopt McDougalFs point of view, for two reasons, either of which seems sufficient. In the first place, we believe that > Principles of Psychology, vol. ii, p. 383. " Op. oit., vol. ii, p. 384. ' Thorndike, Educational Psychology, vol. i. The Original Nature of Man, or Educational Psychology, Briefer Course. ' Briefer Course, p. 11. vii] Instinct and Emotion 155 Thorndike's ' definiteness ' is more or less illusory, when we come to the practical business of enumerating and classifjdug the human instincts, and, not only is it illusory, but it is mis- leading, since it gives the impression or the suggestion that specific responses, as in the case of the behaviour determined by fear, with respect to specific objects, characterize the actions of the human child, in the same way as they characterize the be- haviour of the young of lower animals. We shall attempt to show later that this is not the case, at lep,st to any significant extent. In the second place, for the understanding of human interests and motives, more especially with a view to the development of a psychology of education, the 'class names' are exceedingly valuable, since their very 'vagueness' indicates that indeter- minateness, which is, for the educator, so significant a feature of the instinctive equipment of the human being. That Thorndike's position cannot be maintained even theoretically, that his formula is inapplicable, not only to many human instincts, but also to some of the instincts of lower animals, even of animals fairly low down the scale, will appear, when we have considered one important aspect of McDougall's position, viz., the relation assumed between instinct and emotion. Whether McDougall is right or wrong in his con- tentions in this regard, he clearly indicates one characteristic of human instincts, which would apparently be quite inexplicable on Thorndike's view of the essential nature of all instincts. Whether right or wrong, we say, because the facts are undeniable, and it is only with regard to his interpretation of the facts, that' McDougall can be wrong, while the facts themselves seem to be of such a kind that Thorndike cannot be right. But let us consider McDougall's position. By defining Instinct as he does^, McDougall raises a very important question regarding the fundamental nature, not only of Instinct, but also of Emotion. Is Emotion primarily and fundamentally the affective element in Instinct? Or, to put the question in another form, which will probably be more convenient for us at present, is the interest involved in the instinct-experience always of such a character psychologically, * See above, p. 15, or Social Psychology, p. 29. i f H. ' 156 Classification of Instinctive Tendencies of Mem [CH. that we ought to, or can, call it an emotion ? The question is not whether, under certain conditions, the interest may develop into an emotion, but whether it is necessarily an emotion from the outset. Our answer has to some extent been anticipated in our discussion of instinct-interest. But it is now necessary to consider the question in fuller detail and with special refer- ence to the instincts of Man. McDougall himself grants, that, in the case of some of the simpler instincts of Man, the afEective element would not be called an emotion in the popular sense of the word. In such cases "the afEective element is not at all prominent; and, though no doubt the quality of it is peculiar in each case, yet we cannot readily distinguish these qualities, and have no special names for them^." But we have names for the affective elements of our experience "in the case of the principal power- ful instincts," the names in fact which we generally use in speaking of the instincts themselves, and the experiences are of the kind to which the generic term ' emotion ' is applied. But McDougall maintains that, psychologically speaking, the term 'emotion' ought not to be restricted to such experiences, while he later shows that there are cases where it is applied quite illegitimately in ordinary speech. Hence the inference from McDougall's whole argument is, that, even as regards the simpler instincts where the affective element is not prominent, this affective element is psychologically emotion, whUe, in other cases, affective experiences — as, for example, surprise — ordinarily regarded as emotions, are not emotions psycho- logically. Several questions are involved, but the first question seems to be whether, in our adoption, for psychological purposes, of the popular term 'emotion,' giving it thereby a definite and scientific meaning, we are justified, on the one hand, in extending it to cover the affective elements in every instinct-experience, and, on the other hand, limiting its meaning in such a way as to exclude several experiences popularly included. In the first instance, it is worthy of note, that, by so extending the meaning of 'emotion,' we may cause it to usurp the place of another ^ Social Psychology, p. 46. vii] Instinct amd Emotion 157 equally good word, and at the same time leave without any definite descriptive term a mode of experience, for which the term 'emotion' seems peculiarly suitable. Is not 'interest' the better word to apply to the afiective element in instinct- experience, as such, and is not 'emotion' something more than this, something in a sense secondary? That is the view we have taken in the previous chapter. In the second place, by excluding such experiences as surprise and the Uke, we appear to be narrowing the application of the word 'emotion' on the other side, so to speak, in such a way as to necessitate the employment of stiU another descriptive term to cover modes of affective experience of this kind. An alternative view to McDougall's has already been sketched on general Unefe, but we may recapitulate, in order to place the two views side by side. A decision between them must depend on the results of introspective study of the various kinds of experience involved. The alternative hypothesis to McDougall's is that the affective element in instinct-experience becomes emotion, only when action in satisfaction of the interest is suspended or checked, when, as we expressed it before, interest passes into 'tension.' If impulse immediately realizes itself in the appropriate action towards the situation, then there is no emotion in any strict sense of emotion. At a first glance this hypothesis seems to account best for the facts, when we consider especially those instinctive activities which are accompanied by no pronounced emotion. On the other hand, there are undoubtedly certain facts, which favour McDougall's hypothesis. For example, in the 'fear' instinct, or in the 'fighting' instinct, the emotion is the predominant character- istic of the whole experience. This suggests at any rate that in the human being, we have at least two types of instinct to deal with, and that, if Thorndike's formula is appUcabie to the one type, it can scarcely be expected to apply to the other. , In the meantime, however, let us attempt to settle this\ question of the relation of Instinct to Emotion, and return to the bearing of the facts on Thorndike's view. Some definition of emotion would seem to be necessary. 158 Classification of Instinctive Tendencies of Man [CH. before we proceed to decide between these alternative hypotheses regarding this relation. Unfortunately a generally accepted psychological definition of emotion is not easy to find. Psycho- logists, who have defined emotion, have generally defined it in such a way as to lead on to, or support, a particular theory of the emotions. Thus Kiilpe regards emotion as a "fusion of feeling and organic sensation," Hoffding as " pleasure- pain in association with the idea of its cause," Sully as "a mass of sensuous and representative material with a predominant afiective tone," Ward as a " complete psychosis involving cogni- tion, pleasure-pain and conation'-." The best course therefore is apparently to enumerate those features which characterize all emotional experiences, and to start from such an enumeration as a provisional psychological definition of emotion. The definitions cited indicate most of the prominent charac- teristics of emotion as an experience. (a) In the first place, emotion always involves an affective relation to an object, either perceptual or ideal. (h) In the second place, the pleasure-pain colouring is nearly always pronounced. One might in fact maintain that 'emotion,' as popularly understood, always involves this accen- tuated pleasure-pain factor, so much so, that a considerable number of psychologists have taken this as the essential char- acteristic of the experience. (c) In the third place, 'organic resonance,' as it has been called, is in general well-marked. Again certain psychologists, the most notable being James, have taken this as the essential characteristic, but it has been recognized as a prominent characteristic from Descartes and Malebranche onwards. {d) In the fourth place, emotion involves a feeling-attitude of such a kind, that "actions of a special sort, and these alone, appeal to us*." Our consciousness is, as it were, narrowed, and also specialized, the emotion affecting cognition and action both by way of inhibition, and by way of reinforcement. This again has been taken as the fundamental fact by some psycho- logists. 1 For the various definitions see Irons, Psychology of Ethics, p. 1 f . ^ Irons, Psychology of Ethics, p. 3. vii] Instinct and Emotion 159 I (e) In the fifth place, emotion involves an impulsive force, a source of driving power, so to speak, which, in the more marked cases, tends to suspend the higher mental processes, and to overwhelm purposes, resolutions, and principles, by its irresistible urgency towards immediate action. If we consider that all emotions, to a greater or less extent, show these characteristics, we must apparently decide against McDougall's view, which would include only the first and fourth as essential to emotion, the others appearing only when the emotional state becomes accentuated. But these are the characteristics merely of that interest, which we have all along recognized as a necessary accompaniment of instinctive activity. A recent writer on this subject, Alexander F. Shand^, comes to practically the same conclusion, but on somewhat different grounds. He points out, that, "when the activity of the instinct is most sudden and unopposed, the emotion, if it be brought into activity at all, will be of less intensity and definite^ ness." This seems incontrovertible, and in the limiting case the emotion may be considered entirely to disappear. When, Shand passes on to argue that "many instincts of great indi-i vidual importance and distinctness have no corresponding distinctive emotion^," and cites, as an instance, the nest- building instinct in birds, he is on much more doubtful groimd. The obvious rejoinder is, that we are in no position to say whether there is a distinctive emotion involved in the nest- building instinct or not. Shand's analysis of Instinct into impulse and sensation is also open to grave objection. If there is not an affective element involved in all instinctive activity, it is difficult to see how the characteristic instinct-emotions could develop under any circumstances, and that there are such Shand acknowledges. We seem then compelled to take the view that the instinct- emotion is not an invariable accompaniment of instinctive activity, but that the instinct-interest is, that the instinct- emotion is due to what we previously called ' tension,' that is, in the ordinary case, to arrest of the impulse, to the denying of immediate satisfaction to the interest. 1 The Foundations of Character, London, 1914. ^ Op. cit., p. 371. 160 Classification of Instinctive Tendencies of Man [CH. This arrest of the impulse may arise from a variety of circumstances, but, as we have seen, in the case of the human being one set of circumstances is specially important. With many instinctive impulses, and, among these, some of very great significance, there is no provision in the organism, by means of any neural prearrangement, for that particular course of action, which will meet the particular individual case. Thorndike disagrees, but we shall consider his views imme- diately. It follows, that there must be at least momentary arrest of the impulse, while the particular course of action is being intelHgently determined — intelligently, if only on the perceptual level. If this is a valid explanation of the instinct-emotion, then we ought to find in a comparative study of the instincts of animals, representing different stages or levels of intelligence, that, in the case of certain instincts, the development of the emotional element in instinctive behaviour proceeds pari passu, on the whole, with the dropping out of inherited special adjust- ments for particular reactions to particular situations. And that is what we apparently do find. Romanes has discussed the emotional manifestations of organisms at different levels^, and though, as he points out, the inference to the emotional life of animals "necessarily becomes of less and less validity, as we pass through the animal kingdom to organisms less and less like ovi own^," we cannot fail to be struck by the fact, that the manifestations of emotion become rarer and rarer, and more and more ambiguous, as we descend the scale, and as instinctive activities become more and more fixed and definite. First the self-feeUngs disappear, then the emotions connected with the distinctively social instincts, then curiosity, and finally we are left with fear and anger, even these disappearing in the lowest. What appears to be the biological function and significance of emotion would lead us to expect precisely this phenomenon. Biologically the function of emotion is apparently to reinforce » Animal Intelligence, pp. 45, 155, 204, 242, 270, 329, 334. Mental Evolution in Animals, chap. xx. " Mental JS volution, p. 341. vii] Instinct and Emotion 161 impulse and interest. This reinforcement will be necessary in two cases, either where an obstacle must be surmounted, or where a more or less prolonged course of trying to find the appropriate reaction is necessary, owing to the fact that no neural prearrangement provides for the precise action in a particular case. In the first set of circumstances, in addition to the appropriate emotion, whatever that may be, anger generally develops, as a further reinforcement. In the second, anger wiD not meet the needs of the situation, since only actions of a certain kind will satisfy the impulse and interest involved, and only the appropriate emotion can secure such actions. Though we cannot accept McDougall's view, that the primary emotion, as such, is merely the afEective element in instinct-experience, we are in entire agreement with him on what appear to be the main points. There are certain instincts, of vast importance in both human and animal life, of which an emotion is, under normal conditions, one of the most pro- minent characteristics. At the same time there are, it is true, in addition, minor instincts, characterizing the behavioux of the young child, where the interest is not usually of the emotional type. But the important point is that the great instincts of human nature have all their accompanying and typical emotion. We must, therefore, in the case' of man and the higher animals, distinguish between instincts, which approximate the 'pure' type, and the great instincts which are characteristically emotional. We may now turn to Thorndike's view, for which this fact would seem to be an insurmountable difficulty. Thorndike would recognize but one type of instinct, and the great instincts, like fear, anger, curiosity, and the like, he would regard, not as single instincts, but rather as groups of instinc- tive tendencies, all of the normal 'pure' type. Hence, in his opinion, the psychologist cannot rest satisfied with 'vague' class-names, like 'fear,' 'anger,' ' ciuriosity,' but must attempt to determine what precise situation produces each particular reaction. Take fear. "The inner perturbation which we call the emotion of fear, running, crouching, clinging, starting, tremb- ling, remaining stock-still, screaming, covering the eyes, opening D. 11 162 Classification of Instinctive Tendencies of Man [CH. the mouth and eyes, a temporary cessation followed by an acceleration of the heart-beat, difficulty in breathing and paleness, sweating and erection of the hair, are responses of which certain ones seem bound, apart from training, to certain situations, such as sudden loud noises or clutches, the sudden appearance of strange objects, thunder and lightning, loneliness, and the dark^." If the emotion or 'perturbation' is essentially the same in all cases of different responses, that at least shows that the responses belong together in some way. But possibly Thorndike would not acknowledge that the emotion is the same. Taking, then, the other responses which he specifies, we find that they can be classified into different groups. Some of them belong to the 'organic resonance' of the emotion, and will therefore show themselves whenever the fear reaches a certain intensity, be the situation which arouses the fear what it may. Take for example the erection of the hair. This indeed is so little a specific response, that it is, in various animals, both a symptom of fear and a symptom of anger^. Darwin holds that it is, in fear, more or less "an incidental result," rather than a biologic- ally useful reaction, comparable with "the profuse sweating from an agony of pain or terror^." The other phenomena mentioned by Thorndike are real responses, and these belong to one of two groups — responses which represent 'flight' in one form or another, and responses which represent 'concealment.' Shand* would distinguish four varieties of fear according to the different reactions in each case, where the reaction is flight, where it is concealment, where it is silence and immo- bility, and where it is keeping close to some one or something for protection. Of these reactions the second, third, and fourth are apparently all varieties of a single type of reaction. Shand indeed enumerates five further varieties of instinctive fear, where the reaction is shrinking or starting back, where it is paralysis or immobility, where it is crjdng for help or pro- tection, where it is aggressive action as of an animal at bay, and disinterested fear for young, where the safety of the young "^ Thorndike, Educational Psychology, Briefer Course, p. 20. * Darmn, Expression of the Emotions, chap. IV. " Op. oit., p. 102. * Foundations of Character, p. 201. vii] Instinct and Emotion 163 ■ is first secured. Three of these are very ambiguous, and suggest something more than fear, while the other two do not seem to be more than varieties or phases of the first and second. It must be noted that Shand, though apparently agreeing with Thorndike, recognizes all these varieties of instinctive behaviour as belonging to a definite system, of which the emotion is a more or less constant characteristic. The primary emotion is, for Shand, always such a system. The one great difficulty for Thorndike's view, that there are very many fear instincts, is, as we have already indicated, the emotion itself, which is always, as far as human experience goes, characteristically the same emotion, whatever the particu- lar response may be. Not only so, but the particular response does not of itself serve to satisfy or remove the emotion. The emotion only disappears when the response has secured its end — the avoidance of the danger. Shand is perfectly clear on this point. But it explains another fact, which on Thorndike's view is very difficult of explanation, the fact that all the different responses may be tried in turn to escape any given danger. Moreover, with the human being at least, it is impossible to say beforehand what the response to a given situation will be, that is, whether it will be of the 'flight' or of the 'conceal- ment' type. Thorndike controverts this view^, maintaining that the sight of a large animal coming towards us will, as a rule, be responded to by running away, rather than by hiding, whereas a violent thunderstorm wiU be responded to by hiding, rather than by running away^. This is very plausible reasoning, and, at a first glance, appears sound. But further reflection will convince us that it is not sound. Behaviour will be largely determined, first of all, by the circumstances of the case, by what kind of response will best secure safety. It will be determined, in the second place, by the intensity of the feai aroused, and two individuals may behave in two entirely different ways, in response to the same situation, according to the degree of fear aroused. One may escape by climbing a tree, jumping into a river, or running away, while the other stands rooted to the spot, unable to move hand or foot. •■ Thorndike, Briefer Gomrse, p. 21. ^ Op. oit., p. 22. 11—2 164 Classification of Instinctive Tendencies of Man [CH. If for the human being 'running away' is normally the instinctive response to the situation 'large ajiimal approaching,' and 'hiding' to the situation 'thunder and lightning,' it is somewhat remarkable that some animals, even better fitted for rvmning away than the human being, will seek ' concealment' in the former case, and other animals — for example horses, and domestic animals generally — ^respond with 'flight' to the latter. The writer once possessed a Labrador retriever dog, which was very much afraid of thunder. On one occasion, he was walking with the dog a mile or so from home, when there came a loud peal of thunder. The dog dashed off in terror, ignoring whistles and calls. It turned out later that he must have made straight for home, for, a few minutes afterwards — as was discovered by comparing times — he was f oimd crouching upon the doorstep, trembling in every limb. At the place where the dog took flight there was ample opportunity for concealment, but the instinctive response was nevertheless flight. When the dog was at home, and a thunder-storm came on, he usually crawled under a bed, or into some dark cupboard. We do not think the case is essentially different with the human being. 'Flight' and 'concealment' are alternative responses to the same situation. If there is a place of refuge and concealment at hand, the human being may conceal him- self, in place of running away from a large animal ; if he is out in the open, he may take flight from a thunderstorm. Thorndike even goes so far as to throw doubt upon the reality of the emotion, as an essential accompaniment of the various fear responses. "It is probable further that an im- partial survey of human behaviour, unprejudiced by the superstition that a magic state of consciousness, 'fear,' is aroused by 'danger,' and then creates flight and other symptoms of itself, would show that pursuit and capture may produce distinctive responses, whether or no the peculiar inner trepida- tion, which introspection knows, is present^." Now it is undeniable, as many writers have pointed out that instinctive response to a situation, rousing the 'fear' instinct, may take place without our experiencing the emotion, ^ Briefer Coarse, p. 22. vil] Instinct and Emotion 165 except retrospectively. We may, that is to say, apprehend the 'danger,' and immediately make the necessary efiective response, without feeling any emotion of fear at the time. There are also cases — for example Livingstone's experience when seized by a lion — where the response is not effective, and yet no fear emotion is experienced. But we should maintain that such cases are exceptional, and cases of the first kind, at any rate, merely confirm our position, that the emotion is not, as such, an essential accompaniment of any instinct. Of course it is obvious, that we may easily, by "an impartial survey of human behaviour" alone, reach any conclusion we please, as to the presence or absence of an element in the accom- panying experience, which nothing but introspection is com- petent to study ; but such a conclusion can hardly be regarded as anything but highly unsatisfactory by the psychologist. When we examine our own experiences of 'danger' situations, they tell a very diSerent story. It must also be granted, that it is hardly psychologically the truth to assert that 'fear' creates 'flight.' But no psycho- logist, least of aU McDougall, would maintain that it does. 'Flight' is an instinctive response to a perceptual situation, and the perceptual experience is normally also emotional with the 'fear' emotion. There are other instinctive responses to the same or similar perceptual situations, the perceptual ex- perience in each case being coloured with the same emotion. From the observed facts two inferences seem legitimate. In the first place, the emotion 'fear' is integrally connected with the instinctive responses to a ' danger' situation. In the second place, though originally in the history of the race these responses may have represented specific responses to specific perceived situations, and therefore separate instincts, in the human being, and in the higher animals, they represent the multiple response of a single instinct, which is quite properly called fear, and which is normally, or usually, emotional, just because of the multiple response. The illusory character of the definiteness, which Thorndike's view would impart to all instinctive behaviour of the human being, is even better seen in the case of the 'anger' or 'fighting' 166 ClassiJiGatiort of Instinctive Tendencies of Mom [CH. instinct. While Thorndike succeeds in enumerating seven distinct instincts, which McDougall's 'instinct of pugnacity' would apparently cover, he is compelled, in the case of several of the seven, to allow for a variety of instinctive response. Thus he distinguishes the 'instinct of escape from restraint,' the 'instinct of overcoming a moving obstacle,' the 'instinct of counterattack,' the 'instinct of irrational response to pain,' the 'instinct of combat in rivalry,' the instinct of attack on other males during courtship, the instinct of attack upon any obstacle thwarting any other instinctive response^. If we take the first of these, we find that it is the instinct aroused by the situation "being interfered with in any bodily movements which the individual is impelled by its own constitution to make, the interference consisting in holding the individual." The responses are, in the case of a little child, "stifiening, writhing, and throwing . back the head and shoulders," these being replaced or supplemented, in the case of an older chUd, by "kicking, pushing, slapping, scratching, and biting^." We find the same kind of thing in most of the others, and, not only so, but the same responses. It is difficult to see where any advantage derived from the classification comes in, if the responses are practically as complex and varied as ever. We are compelled, therefore, to reject Thorndike's view, that aU the instincts of Man can be reduced to, or derived from, instinctive tendencies of the simple or 'pure' type, and to recognize, with McDougall, that some of the most important instincts of the human being, as well as of the higher animals, are of the 'emotional' type, that is to say, are not merely of the nature of specific responses to specific situations, but specific only as to the kind of situation, the emotional accom- paniment, and the end secured by the response, and, as regards the first and third of these, specific in varying degrees. In any case, alike for 'pure' and for 'emotional' instinct, Thorndike's ignoring of the affective or interest factor cannot be defended. We have thus two groups of instinctive tendencies in Man, which we can distinguish from one another on a psychological basis, the one group characterized by specific responses to 1 Briefer Coarse, pp. 23-26. ^ Qp. eit., p. 23. vii] Instinct and Emotion 167 specific situations, like sucking, biting an object placed in the mouth, and the like^, which are as a rule very difficult to dis- tinguish from reflexes, the other group consisting of tendencies specific in varying degrees as regards situation and response, but always quite specific as regards the accompanpng emotion, when that emotion is aroused. But we cannot stop here. We must recognize still another group of innate tendencies, which can hardly be said to be specific at all, as regards either situation or response, and which have associated with them no specific emotion, a group to which would belong such tendencies as play, imitation, and the like. It is obvious that such tendencies can be classified with neither suckiag nor fear, and yet they are quite as undoubtedly instinctive. This third group of instinctive tendencies is also of great psychological interest. Though play, imitation, and the Uke, certainly represent instinctive tendencies, they are as far removed from the 'pure' instincts as they could well be. Biologically they may be regarded as the means of supplementing the 'imlearned reactions' of 'pure' instinct. They do not normally determine specific ends or interests, but attach them- selves, as it were, to the ends and interests determined by the specific tendencies, more especially those of the 'emotional' group. This explains the fact that they have no accompanying specific emotion. But although there is no specific emotion, the usual instinct-interest may be, and perhaps generally is, present. This is best seen in the case of play. In a hunting game, for example, there is, in addition to the specific interest, developing it may be into emotion, of the hrmting instinct, the play interest itself, which, while it never can itself become emotional, yet modifies throughout both the emotion and the behaviour of the hunting instinct. Our psychological classification of the original tendencies of Man is not yet complete. We may take as a further basis of classification, the fact that some tendencies appear to be determined by some feeling of uneasiness, which we should describe as prior to the impulse, but for the suggestion of * See James, Principles of Psychology, vol. ii, p. 404. Also Thomdike, Notes on Child Study. 168 Classification of Instinctive Tendencies of Man [CH. relative time order, which the word 'prior' conveys. There is no conclusive evidence, as we have already seen, that the feeling of uneasiness is prior in time to the impulse which it determines. Nevertheless there appears to be in some sense an experienced ' priority,' which quite clearly distinguishes such origiaal tendencies from other tendencies not characterized by this priority of feehng. These two groups we may call respec- tively the group of 'Appetite' and the group of 'Instinct' proper. Theoretically the distinction between them seems valid; practically it is not without its difficulties. In the 'Appetite' group we can distinguish the specific from the general tendencies, as in the 'Instinct proper' group. The general 'Appetite' tendencies are two, the tendency to avoid or get away from unpleasant experiences, and the tendency to seek or maintain pleasant experiences. We call these general, because the tendencies are determined by nothing specific ia any experience, except its pleasantness or its un- pleasantness. The specific 'Appetite' tendencies, most easily recognized and identified, are the four appetites determined by himger, thirst, need of sleep, and sex. We should, however, be inclined to add to these at least one tendency of an opposite kind — unfortunately -there is no definite term to denote this, except aversion, and that wiU not suit here — the tendency which we call nausea, or primitive disgust. Our whole classification of Man's original, innate, or instinc- tive tendencies, with the chief individual tendencies provisionally placed in each class, may be shown schematically as on page 169. This classification, though it is more fully wrought out, is on the same general lines as McDougall's, from which it differs merely as regards details, some of these being never- theless not unimportant. The chief differences are: — (a) the classifying of both sex impulse and primitive disgust with the ' Appetite ' tendencies, rather than with the ' Instinct ' tendencies, (6) the addition of experimentation to the general 'Instinct' tendencies, which is really equivalent to the transferring of ' constructiveness " from the specific to the general, since that is one way in which this general tendency manifests itself, (c) the definite adding of the gregarious instinct, the courtship VIl] Instinct and Emotion 169 Innate Tendencies ' Appetite ' Tendencies ' Instinct ' Tendencies General < Seeking of Pleasure Avoidance of Pain) Specific (Hunger TMrst Sleep Sex Nausea) Speoifio General (Play Experimentation Imitation Sympathy Suggestibility) 'Pure' (Probably numerous ttough difficult to dis- tinguish from reflexes and may perhaps be classified as : Reactions of Adjustment and Attention ,, Prehension „ Locomotion „ Vocalization) ' Emotional ' (Fear Anger Hunting Acquisitive Curiosity Gregarious Courtship Self-display Self-abasement Parental) tendency, the hunting instinct, and the acquisitive tendency to the specific ' Instinct ' tendencies, and therefore to the group of tendencies, in connection with which we must expect to find an interest, which, under certain conditions, develops into a specific primary emotion. The obvious advantage of such a classification is that it is psychological, and is therefore in place in a psychological discussion of Instinct. Except for the classifications of some of the older psychologists, and of McDougall, most classifications of human instinctive tendencies have been in more or less objective terms, that is, from the point of view of the instinctive response, or the end towards which it is directed. Thus Thorndike^ divides the tendencies into two main groups, individual and social. Under the former head he classifies "original attentiveness," "gross bodily control," "food-getting," "protective responses," "anger," and under the second head, that is "responses to the behaviour of other human beings," "motherly behaviour," "responses to the Briefer Oaarae, chaps, n and ni. 170 Classification of Instinctive Tendencies of Mam [CH. vii presence, approval, and scorn of men," "mastering and sub- missive behaviour," "other social instincts," "imitation." Eutgers Marshall classifies the tendencies, professedly from "an objective point of view^," into "three grand divisions determined by the laws of organic development," the divisions being : — (1) "Instincts which function to the preservation of the individual organic life " ; (2) "Instincts which fimction to the preservation of the species to which the individual life belongs " ; (3) " Instincts which function to the preservation of those social groups which we discover amongst many species of animals, and which appear most markedly in the highest animal — man^." If this distinction between individual and social tendencies is considered desirable or important, it can quite easily, in our classification, be appHed to the 'Instinct' tendencies, both general and specific. That is to say, these groups are cap- able of being further subdivided into tendencies, which we may call individual, and tendencies, which are social, or at least necessarily imply or involve relation or interaction between an individual and other individuals. Thus imitation, sympathy, suggestibility, the gregarious instinct, the acquisitive tendency, the courtship tendency, the parental instinct, are all social in this sense, and to a less extent perhaps, but still un- mistakably, the two self -tendencies, while play, experimentation, anger, fear, the hunting instinct, curiosity, do not necessarily involve any such social reference, and may therefore be classed as individual. The 'Appetite' tendencies must aU be regarded, psychologically at any rate, as essentially individual. We must now take a closer survey of the various tendencies, and more particularly those which are important from the point of view of education. Seeing that the 'Appetite' tendencies present somewhat special and complex problems, their discus- sion had better be postponed. We shaU begin therefore with the 'Instinct' tendencies, and with the specific 'emotional' group. 1 Instinct and Season, p. 102. 2 Instinct and Season, p. 103. Stout's fourfold classification in the recent edition of the Manual (1913) is on somewhat similar Unes. CHAPTER VIII THE SPECIFIC 'INSTINCT' TENDENCIES McDougall has pointed out with great clearness and truth, that, while all the specific 'Instinct' tendencies are characterized by cognition of a more or less specific kind of object, behaviour of a more or less specific character, and an emotional experience of a quite specific quality, it is the third factor that is character- istic and constant. It is true that certain expressive signs of an emotion are almost as specific as the emotion itseK. But apart from this, the behaviour, due to any of the 'emotional' specific tendencies may show considerable variation, and is also highly modifiable as a result of education. So is it also with the cognitive factor. We shaU see presently that it is only in one or two of the 'emotional' instincts that the impulse is aroused, prior to experience, by specific objects. Gener- ally the instinctive impulse is determined by a more or less specific kind of situation, but in the case of curiosity or the acquisitive tendency the situation is specific to a very slight degree. Hence, the emotional factor being the unalterable and relatively permanent element, it is very fittingly chosen, wherever possible, as the basis of identification and naming in each case. These facts to some extent explain the difficulty which psychologists experience in determining exactly the instinctive, as distinguished from the derived, impulses and tendencies of the human being, belonging to this category. McDougall suggests, that, in seeking to decide whether any "human emotion or impulse" should be considered "a primary emotion or simple instinctive impulse," we may employ two criteria: — (1) the display of a similar emotion and impulse in the higher 172 The Specific 'Instinct' Temdendes [CH. animals, and (2) the appearance of the emotion and impulse in question in an exaggerated or hyper-excitable form under pathological conditions^ Neither criterion can be considered as quite satisfactory from the psychological point of view. Both are essentially objective. As regards the first, it is not clear that there might not be primary emotions, characteristic of human nature, which were not to be found in the higher animals at all. But quite apart from that consideration, the emotions and impulses which the psychologist finds in animals are essentially of the nature of ejects from his own experience, and it is not very easy to see, how and why the fact that a human being can read his own emotions into the mental life of animals should afford a criterion for determining the primary nature of these emotions and impulses. Romanes, for example, finds 'jealousy' as low down the scale as fishes, 'emulation' and 'pride' in birds, 'grief,' 'hate,' 'cruelty' in carnivora, rodents, and ruminants, 'revenge' in monkeys and elephants, 'shame' and 'remorse' in anthropoid apes^. It is equally difficult to see how and why the second criterion affords a basis for such a decision; at all events, it is not clear a friori why a complex and secondary emotion may not appear in an exaggerated form under patho- logical conditions, as, in fact, it frequently does, in the case of both 'emotions of sentiment,' and 'emotions of desire.' It cannot be denied that McDougall's criteria are useful to the psychologist by way of confirmatory evidence. But the psychologist has other, and more purely psychological, criteria available. Shand offers us four tests, one of which is practically identical with McDougall's first: — (1) the mani- festation of the impulse and emotion early in child life, (2) the wide diffusion of the impulse and emotion in the animal world, (3) irreducibility in introspective analysis, (4) manifestation in genuinely instinctive behaviour'. These criteria are also open to objection, but we can at least extract from them three tests, which with McDougall's two will yield us altogether five. ^ Social Psychology, p. 48. ' Mental Evolution in Animals, chap, xx, and Plate. ^ Foundations of Character, p. 219. viii] The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies 173 These five tests, in what seems to be their order of psycho- logical importance, are: — (1) Irreducibility by introspective analysis to simpler com- ponents. (2) Arousal of impulse and emotion, with its specific and unmistakable expressive signs, by specific objects or specific kinds of objects, prior to individual experience of these objects. (3) Manifestation in the early months of child life. (4) Wide difiusion in the animal world. (5) Occurrence in exaggerated form under pathological conditions. Six of the ten tendencies we have named satisfy all these tests — anger, fear, the two self-tendencies, the gregarious instinct, and the acquisitive tendency. It is not quite certain whether curiosity and the hunting instinct satisfy the fifth, and the parental instinct, and the courtship tendency, for an obvious reason, do not satisfy the third. Surprise appears to be the only other 'emotional' tendency of the human being, on behalf of which a serious claim to be included in this group can be advanced. The reason for exclud- ing surprise is the doubt whether there is any corresponding instinctive impulse. Both McDougall and Shand accept Adam Smith's account of the nature of surprise^. According to Adam Smith's account, "surprise is not to be regarded as an original emotion of a species distinct from all others. The violent and sudden change produced upon the mind, when an emotion of any kind is brought suddenly upon it, constitutes the whole nature of surprise." McDougaU's account is in shghtly different terms. Surprise, he says, "is produced by an impression, which is contrary to anticipation, and to which, therefore, we cannot immediately adjust ourselves, which does not evoke at once an appropriate emotional and conative response." There does not seem any sufficient ground for denying the emotional nature of surprise. It is the emotional response to unexpectedness, and it is unique only in that the emotional response to the qv/ile of the impression supervenes, ' Adam Smith, The Principles which lead and direct Philosophical Enquiries, as illustrated by the History of Astronomy, sect. i. McDougall, Social Psycho- logy, p. 157. Shand, I'oundations of Character, p. 421. 174 The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies [ch. so that surprise is always merely a momentary emotion. Its impulse and expression, simply as surprise, do not appear to be very significant, but we should be quite prepared to admit it as another 'emotional' tendency belonging to this group. Educationally the most important fact to keep in mind with regard to these specific 'emotional' tendencies is, that in them we have — apart from the 'Appetite' tendencies, to which we shall advert later — the original, and ultimately the sole import- ant, motive forces determining an individual's behaviour, the sole original determinants of the ends he will seek to attain, as of the interests which crave satisfaction^. To escape from 'danger,' to meet hindrances, obstacles, and hostihty with active aggression, to acquire 'property,' to secure the favour- able notice of the chosen one of the opposite sex, to protect ofispring, to obtain the praise and avoid the blame of superiors or equals, to escape the loneliness of isolation from one's feUows, these, however disguised, developed, or complicated, they may be, apart, as we have said, from the 'Appetite' tendencies, are instances of the chief ultimate forces which control the actions of humanity. We must now consider briefly some of the more interesting and significant features of the various tendencies individually, and more especially the nature of the situations which determine them, the kind of behaviour in which they issue, the modifica- tions produced by and in experience, and their general operation and function in education and social development. Fear. McDougall, Eibot, James, and others have already dis- cussed fear so fully from the psychological, and Darwin and others from the expression, behaviour, and biological points of view, that there is little left for us to do in this case, except to supple- ment the parts of their descriptions which are germane to our present purpose, so far as we can, and to. draw such con- clusions as seem to us deserving of particular note. In the human being the fear instinct is specialized, at the outset, for comparatively few, if for any, particular objects. Evidence with regard to the instinctive fears of childhood is, 1 Tliis may poasibly need qualification, but we shall consider this point in connection with the general tendencies. viii] The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies 175 as a rule, not too reliable, the source of the unreliability being more or less general, as far as the primary emotions are con- cerned. The general tendency we call ' sympathy ' — McDougall's 'primitive passive sympathy' — operates, as we shall see, in such a way as to cause an individual to experience an emotion, when he perceives the signs expressive of that emotion in another individual, or other individuals, towards whom his attention is directed. Now this tendency undoubtedly operates in a child from a very early age. Hence many apparently instinctive fears may be derived through sympathy, and not really 'instinctive.' That is to say, a child may derive fear for a specific object through sympathy, from another person, who is really afraid, or who successfully pretends fear, and the result is a fear, which, without knowledge of the circumstances — and such knowledge is apt to be very elusive — we tend to classify as 'instinctive.' For example, it is said that children have an instinctive fear of dead things. Not one of the writer's children has shown the slightest sign of such. Yet one of them, when aged about five, showed an intense fear of death — ^he said he could not ' get it out of his head ' — when his mother, on one occasion, told him ' he would get his death of cold ' by going about with his shoes off, as he had been doing against orders. This was the first occasion on which we had known him to exhibit fear of death. We cannot trace its origin, but we are quite satisfied that its origin was either sympathetic, or that he had been told something from which the fear had developed. We have had an analogous experience with fear of the dark. Of three children, aged from two to five, not one showed the least fear of the dark, until suddenly one evening fear of going out into a dark lobby was manifested, and by all three. Of the origin of the fear, we are quite ignorant, but it was certainly not instinctive in all three cases, and probably not in any. If there is doubt about fear being aroused by specific objects or situations, there is no doubt about its being aroused by specific kinds of objects or situations, prior to individual experience of such. Loud noises, but not all loud noises, strange faces, but not all strange faces, a threatening aspect in human beings 176 TM Specific ^Instinct' Tendencies [CH. or animals — and this seems to be instinctively apprehended, probably through the operation of something akin to sympathy — high places, and any risk of falling, anything "violently opposed to the accustomed and famiharS" but only in a certain way, these are the kinds of situations which arouse instinctive fear. The general formula would appear to be "anything that threatens ' danger '." And this formula applies, not merely at the perceptual level, but at all levels. It is usually the threatened 'danger' in loud noises, like the roar of a Hon, the loud bark of a dog, that stimulates fear. A loud noise like thunder may apparently, in the majority of children, produce a similar effect at the first experience, but it must be remembered that such an experience is or may be intensely disagreeable, merely as loud noise ; the same kind of effect is produced by the horn of a steamer close at hand, but in our own case the sensation is, not only highly disagreeable, but positively painful, and fear produced in such circumstances may be produced by the experienced pain, and is therefore not prior to experience. The notion of 'danger,' as the only way in which we can express the origin of fear, as well as explain its characteristics in all cases, has hitherto very strangely failed to attract the careful notice and investigation of the psychologist. Shand comes upon it in his search for a general law, which wUl express and include all forms of the fear behaviour, but, though it is the only notion that could have guided him aright, he has passed it over, to formulate a law which is manifestly false, or at least partial and one-sided^ 'Danger' may be generally interpreted as the 'promise of pain, injury, or loss to the Self.' The general law of the be- havioiir of fear, which Shand sought, may be expressed in the form: 'Fear in all its varieties strives to escape danger.' At the purely instinctive level, and at the perceptual level generally, the danger is, in the main, physical danger to the individual or his offspring. At the higher levels, it may be as frequently danger that threatens any part of the 'Self,' and it must be ' McDougall, Social Psychology, p. 54. " Foundations of Character, p. 217. His 'law' is: "Fear throughout its varieties strives to avoid aggressive behaviour." viii] The Spedfie 'Instinct' Tendencies 177 remembered that an individual's sentiments, ends, ideals, purposes, are at these levels parts of the Self, This notion of 'danger' also enables us to give a satisfactory account of the modifications of which this instinct is capable, as a result of experience, and with the higher degrees of 'psychi- cal integration.' The evolution of the race has secured that certain 'dangers' should be apprehended prior to individual experience. After our discussion of the cognitive element in instinct-experience in Chapter IV, the sense in which we use 'apprehend' will not be misunderstood. Learning at the perceptual level will take place, when pain, injury, or loss is experienced in association with any perceptual situation, and the result may be fear- at the moment — or anger, as we shall see — and fear of such a situation for the future. Similarly at the ideational and rational levels. The experienced results of situations, experienced, that is to say, by ourselves or by others within our knowledge, wiU lead to such situations being labelled as 'dangerous.' Whether the crude instinctive behaviour of fear will manifest itself or not, will depend on a variety of circumstances, but, in any case, fear as a motive will always play its part in determining the behaviour. McDougaU has emphasized, and rightly emphasized, the fact that fear is the great 'inhibitor of all action,' and, as such, is in primitive societies the "great agent of social discipline^." But, as McDougaU has also more than once pointed out, inhibi- tion is but one aspect of a process, of which reinforcement is the other aspect, and it is sometimes well to look at this other aspect. So long as the fear is not of a paralyzing degree, it directs aU our energies towards escape from 'danger.' At the higher levels, when it is one element in a complex emotional state, it is generally most significant when regarded as a reinforcing, rather than as an inhibiting, agent. The individual, who is striving to gain a prize, redoubles his efforts, when he sees the danger of losing it to another. And so is it always, when fear is associated with almost any motive that animates the human being, at least if it is essentially selfish in its tendency, provided, as we have said, the fear does not reach the paralyzing degree. ^ Social Psychology, p. 55. D. 12 178 The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies [CH In connection with the efiect of fear in experience, there is one other point deserving of some notice. That is its ' haunting ' character. Of all the emotions, fear probably makes the deepest and most permanent impression upon the mind. McDougall has related this fact to the inhibitory effect of fear by pointing out, that, along with the inhibition of other mental activity, there is a 'riveting' of the attention on the object feared "to the exclusion of aU others^." We cannot 'get it out of our minds.' In other words, the 'haunting' is the result of the iuhibiting and reinforcing influence of fear, which, especially when it is experienced in a high degree, not only keeps the attention fixed upon the object or event feared, but persists in memory, to an extent that very frequently becomes morbid. Even fear experienced ia dreams has this effect. We have known individuals, who for years avoided certaia streets and street-crossings, because these were associated in a dream with a terrifying experience. They confessed that their action was irrational, and could by a strong effort of will pass through the dreaded zone, but the fear remained. The same kind of thing is notably a phenomenon of children's fears. Fortunately most of these fears are outgrown, but in some cases they are not. How many of the neuroses, the origin of which the Freudians ascribe to instincts of sex, are not due rather to the equally powerful, and at an early age far more manifest, instinct of fear? There seems good reason to beheve that many of them are*. Anger and the Hunting Instinct. We shaU discuss these two instincts, the fighting instinct and the hunting instinct, together, because in many cases they are not easily separable in their effects, as far as human behaviour is concerned. The hunting instinct has been rather strangely ignored by McDougall. It would deserve notice, if only for the part it plays in determining some of the favourite amusements of both young and adult human beings. In this respect at least, the two tendencies are very fittingly bracketed together. But they are not less ^ Social Psychology, p. 55. ' See Morton Prince, The Unconscious, Leot. xin. viii] The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies 179 closely associated as regards nearly all the kinds of behaviour they determine. With respect to the perceptual situation, towards which it is the instinctive response, anger is more closely associated with fear. McDougall thinks that anger "occupies a peculiar position in relation to the other instincts," because "it has no specific object or objects, the perception of which constitutes the initial stage of the instinctive process^." But in this respect it does not seem to diSer from curiosity, from the acquisitive instinct, or, in our opinion, from fear. For, whether the exceedingly doubtful cases of the determination of fear by specific objects be accepted or not, it remains true that the great majority of instinctive fears, and by far the most im- portant, are determined by specific kinds of situations, rather than by specific objects. Moreover James has pointed out^ that the situations which produce fear produce also anger. After all it does not seem to be of much consequence whether an instinct is determined by a specific quah of situations, or by a specific object. In the cases where, according to James, fear and anger are both produced by the same situation, though the two impulses are antagonistic, one does not destroy the other, but merely suspends it, and the two emotions may coexist. There is therefore no need to assiime a special difEerentiation of fear, as Shand, for example, does^, to account for the fighting of the animal which turns at bay. This phenomenon can be much more simply accounted for. On the one hand, there is anger present aU along, its impulse being merely suspended. On the other hand, one of the most characteristic forms of anger is that aroused against any hindrance to, or interference with, the impulse of another instinctive tendency. This will be a reinforcement to the anger already involved, and hence, with the baulking of the impulse to escape, the animal or human beiag will turn in desperation, and with the most furious rage, upon the pursuer. The situation of the animal at bay presents several very interesting psychological phenomena. In the first place, it 1 Social Psychology, p. 59. ^ Principles of Psychology, vol. n, p. 415. ' Foundations of Character, pp. 202-3. 12—2 180 The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies [CH. illustrates the fact, that the stronger the impulse which meets a check, the fiercer as a rule is the anger aroused. This is also instanced in the anger aroused by sexual rivalry. In the second place, and in explanation of this fact, it must be noted, that it is almost quite generally characteristic of our emotional Hfe, that the motive which finally determines action may draw a large part of its driving force from emotions experienced simultaneously, or so short a time previously, that the emotional disturbance has not had time to subside — emotions, which do not themselves issue in action at all, but which thus lend their force to an impulse, sometimes of a totally different kind. Some instances of the ' subUmation^ ' of the Freudians may be regarded as additional examples of this, but the sexual instincts are not by any means unique in producing such a result. To return to the situations which arouse anger and the fighting impulse. In the case of the human being, any agent threatening 'danger,' and therefore evoking fear, may also evoke instinctive anger, any agent causing pain, injury, or loss to the 'self,' in its narrow as in its widest sense, any agent obstructing an impulse, or hindering the realization of an end. The instinct may therefore be said to have two main functions. Like fear, but not to the same extent, it is protective ; like fear, but to a much greater extent, it is reinforcing. 'Anything that threatens or obstructs ' would thus appear to be the general formula for the situations producing anger and its impulse. What of the situations determining the hunting instinct? This question is a good deal more difficult to answer. Generally it seems that all objects which show the fear or flight impulse tend to arouse the hunting instinct. Hence it is evoked, not only by the fleeing enemy, but also by anything small, timid, or weak. At the same time it must be recognized that there are notable exceptions, due to the operation of other powerful impulses, and chiefly the parental instinct and sympathy. Most frequently, perhaps, the hunting instinct is enlisted in the service of some other instinct or appetite, more especially anger or hunger. * See Jones, "Psycho-analysis and Education," Journal of Educational Psychology, pp. 241-256. 1912. Also references. viii] The Specific ' Instiiict' Tendencies 181 The cooperation of anger and the hunting instinct has been admirably described by James^, but before going on to emphasize the psychologically important phenomena of this cooperation, there is one noteworthy fact in connection with anger, which is worth indicating. The expressive signs of anger, when it is acting in cooperation with the hunting instinct, are usually very different from its expressive signs, as described by Darwin and others^. Or rather, some of the expressive signs of anger, which we generally regard as most typical, and which are so regarded by Darwin, and also by McDougalP, would appear to be the signs, not of anger, as such, but rather of anger associated with a little fear, at all events of anger in its protective fimction. One anger is noisy, ferocious in aspect, as if to strike terror to the heart of the enemy,, and so remove some part of the fear from its own; the other anger is stern, silent, and remorseless, pursuing its enemy, not frightening him away. If the expressive signs of an emotion are constant in anything like the degree in which the quality of the emotion itself is constant, and there is good reason to believe that they are, then we can only count as expressive signs of anger those signs which are common in the two phases. An anger that is compUcated by fear, or by the hunting instinct, or an anger that has been baulked, and, because it has been baulked, has become a mad rage, cannot be taken as typical. James, in our opinion rightly, explains many of the less amiable characteristics of the human being under certain circumstances, as due to the cooperation of the fighting and hunting instincts. Of the ferocity and lust of blood, which may occasionally animate men, who normally are ordinary, law- abiding citizens, we find illustrations throughout history, and none more striking than in our own times, and among our own highly civilized peoples. Such phenomena are most easily explicable, when we consider them as due, in the main, to this cooperation, especially when contagion has roused to a high pitch the emotional accompaniments of the two tendencies. ^ Principles of Psychology, vol. ii, pp. 411-415. ^ See Darwin, Expression of the Emotions, pp. 240-253. 1872. » Social Psychology, p. 61. 182 The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies [CH. A great part of the disinterested 'cruelty' of cliildren James would apparently explain in a similar way^. But 'cruelty' presents a rather complex problem. Some of the disinterested 'cruelty' of children, as, for example, the pulling ofi the wings and legs of insects, may have its source merely in curiosity, or the tendency to experiment, though the catching of the insect •is imdoubtedly due to the hunting instinct. The dis- interested 'cruelty,' which kills all helpless creatures, is prob- ably, in most cases, due to the hunting instinct pure and simple. But disinterested 'cruelty,' strictly so called, is quite cold-blooded. On the other hand, real cruelty is generally accompanied by a spasm of quite irrational and instinctive anger, and therefore passes easily over into the ferocity based upon the cooperation of anger and the hunting instinct. It is thus necessary to discriminate. James quotes with approval in a footnote^ a passage from Schneider. In Schneider's opinion, the curiosity itseK is merely a manifesta- tion of the hunting instinct, or of its impulse, after the prey is captured, and represents the tearing to pieces in order to devour, which naturally follows the chase with those animals which hunt their prey in order to satisfy their hunger* We do not know that this will accoimt for the phenomena in every case. There is good reason to think that a real and not apparent curiosity, and a real tendency to experiment, are involved in many cases. ' Principles of Psychology, vol. n, p. 412. 2 Op. cit., vol. n, p. 411. ' Schneider, Der menschliche Wille, pp. 224^7. The chief points of the argument are: "Es ist Jedermann bekannt, welches Gef alien ein Baiabe bei dem Anblick eines Schmetterb'nges, Fisches, Krebses, oder eines anderen Thieres, und eines Vogelnestes empfindet, und welch starken Trieb er zum Zerzupf en, Erbrechen, Auseinanderlegen und Zerstoren aller zusammengesetzten Gegenstande hat, welches Vergniigen er daran findet, einer Fliege Beine und Fliigel auszurupfen oder irgend welche Thiere in anderer Weise zu qnalen.... In vielen Fallen wird man sagen, dass der Knabe die Dinge aus Neugierde zerlege. Das ist richtig ; aber woher kommt diese Neugierde ?...Hier handelt es sich um vererbte Triebe, die selbst so stark sind, dass alle Ennahnungen und Strafen dagegen wenig au3richten....Der blosse Jagdtrieb unterdriickt jede ihm entgegenstehende Regung, der Wahmehmungstrieb, der ja immer starker ist als der VorsteUungstrieb, siegt iiber letzteren, und die Jagd beginnt. . . . Unsere Vorfahren...haben an dem Verzehren der Beutethiere im rohen Zustande einen thatsachlichen Essgenuss gehabt.... Jetzt hat der junge Mensch nicht mehr den Essgenuss... aber die oausale Beziehung zwisohen der Wahrnehmung dieser Dinge. ..und dem Jagdtrieb ist gebUeben," etc. viii] The Specific ' Instinct' Tendencies 183 The ' cruelty,' which arises from the hunting instinct alone, or from the hunting instinct supplemented by curiosity or experimentation, would seem to be comparatively harmless, and in normal children jdelds easily to the proper treatment. The ' cruelty ' arising from the cooperation of the hunting instinct and an irrational, instinctive anger, is apparently in a different category, and a more serious matter. In extreme cases this may be a premonitory symptom of the maniacal thirst for blood, which has not infrequently shown itself in our midst, and which finds a ghouUsh delight in murders of the most fiendish description. In all cases it presents a most difficult problem to the educator. The emotional accompaniment of the hunting instinct has received no specific name. The probable explanation of this fact is, that the emotional accompaniment of the himting instinct is so frequently associated with anger, and passes so easily into anger owing to the baulking of the impulse, which, from the nature of the case, must be the normal course of events, that it has never been popularly distinguished as a separate emotion. Nevertheless there can be no doubt what- soever that there is such an emotion. It can be introspectively recognized, and it finds its purest expression in the realm of sport. Both the fighting and the hunting instinct afford some confirmation to the view that at least one of the biological functions of play is its cathartic fimction. This is a modifica- tion of Stanley HaU's well-known recapitulation theory of play, due to Carr^. It seems as if the hunting instinct at 'east finds its necessary outlet in games and sport, is, as it were, canalized in such manner as to attain the satisfaction of its impulse under the conditions of modern civiHzed Ufe, and consistently with these conditions, in the activities of the playground, the moor, and the hunting-field. It also illustrates very well James's principle of the ' transitoriness of instincts^,' though it is very questionable if the result of non-satisfaction of an instinct at the proper time is ever mere atrophy of that instinct. 1 Carr, The. Survival Values of Play. University of Colorado Psychological Investigations. 1902. 2 See Olaparfede, Psychologie de VEnfant, p. 90, 3rd ed. 1909. 184 The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies [CS- As for the fighting instinct, that finds numerous outlets in civilized life, far removed from the crude instinctive be- haviour in which it originally issues. As a reinforcing agent, when difficulties have to be faced and overcome, its value, both to the individual and to society, is incalculable. Weaklings are what they are, as often through lack of anger in their con- stitution, or of its developed forms as organized forces in their character, as through excess of fear. By lack of anger we mean, not so much lack of the emotion, which is rather rare, as weakness in the instinctive driving force, the fighting instinct itself, of which anger is merely the emotional manifestation. To some extent the himting instinct functions in a way similar to the fighting instinct in this respect. Under certain conditions, though not so frequently occurring conditions, it is also capable of acting as a reinforcing agent. In both cases we can get, in the life of the civilized and educated adult of the twentieth century, admirable instances of Freudian 'sublimation.' The Gregarious Instinct. As we have seen, gregariousness has long been recognized as instinctive in Man. The classic description of the instinct, in the opinion of McDougall at least, is that given by Galton. Speaking of the wild ox of Damara-land, he says: — "Yet although the ox has so little affection for, or individual interest in, his fellows, he cannot endure even a momentary severance from his herd. If he be separated from it by stratagem or force, he exhibits every sign of mental agony; he strives with aU his might to get back again, and when he succeeds, he plunges into its middle to bathe his whole body with the comfort of closest companion- shipi." The perceptual situation, which determines this instinct, appears to be simply separation from 'kind,' and its interest is satisfied in being with the others. That it has operated on a very large scale, and in a very important way, in the evolution of societies, is indubitable. McDougall seems right in assigning to it also a large share in the sum total of influences, which have led to the rise and development of modern cities, and the ^ Galton, Enquiries into Human Faculty, p. 49 (Everyman Edition). viii] The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies 185 depopulation of rural districts^. No doubt too, as lie shows, it operates widely in bringing crowds together in the lecture- hall, theatre, or picture-house, to watch a procession, a race, or a football match. To describe the instinctive impulse, as McDougall does, as arising out of the uneasiness felt at isolation from our fellows^, is rather misleading. The instinct-impulse is the cause, not the effect, of the uneasiness. In fact the pecidiar 'uneasiness' may be regarded as the emotional manifestation of this instinct. As an emotion it is not usually of sufficiently high intensity to have secured it a definite name, but it cannot be doubted that the more or less vague 'restlessness' is emotional. It is perhaps a httle unjust to McDougall to attribute to him the view that the gregarious impulse is determined by a prior 'uneasiness'; for his whole teaching is contrary to this view, and the only passage where it seems to occur is in the single sentence referred to. Nevertheless there is in the instinct itself something which suggests such a view, something which might even lead the psychologist to maintain that it belongs rather to the 'Appetite' group in our system of classification, an opinion to which Galton's description would lend some support. There is indeed something pri- mordial about the whole experience involved in the operation of the gregarious instinct. Marshall holds that the 'social' instincts represent the latest stratum of instinctive develop- ment*. This, the 'mother tendency' of the 'social' instincts, as such, the 'social,' that is, as distinct from the 'family' instincts, bears all the psychological marks of a very ancient tendency. It is perhaps a matter for the biologist, rather than the psychologist, to decide, but, if the biologist should come to the conclusion that the gregarious instinct is indeed very ancient, the psychologist coidd not refuse him fuU support. Gregariousness is as variable in different individuals as any instinctive tendency, but it is probably less modifiable than any, in this respect also resembhng the 'Appetites.' But it ' Social Psychology, chap. xn. * Op. cit., p. 84. ' Instinct and Season, p. 173 fi. 186 The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies [CH. would be a mistake to consider it entirely unmodifiable, for in the highly intellectualized human being its impulse seems to be directed to means of satisfaction quite different from those of the crude instinct, though, even in this case, the original impulse now and again may reassert itself. The chief educational interest of the gregarious instinct arises from the fact, that, at the human level of development, its impulse takes the form which McDougall has called 'active sympathy^.' The name is not without its disadvantages. It suggests a close relation to, and indeed dependence on, 'primi- tive passive sympathy,' to which suggestion McDougall himself appeals to have yielded. There is really no reason to suppose that the relation to 'primitive passive sympathy' is anything more than incidental to the conditions under which, in this case, the gregarious impulse manifests itself. By saying that 'primitive passive sympathy' is incidental we mean that the sense of isolation is, in this case, produced by refusing or repress- ing any signs of sharing the individual's feelings. Nevertheless 'active sympathy' is itself the impulse of the gregarious instinct, and, in its pure state, of that alone. The instinct is also educationally important, as the primary basis of the natural groupings of children in and out of school, and as furnishing, therefore, the original opportunity, outside the family, for the operation of the general social tendencies, imitation, sympathy, and suggestibility, determining that development of the individual as a social individual so care- fully described by Eoyce, Baldwin, and others. Of course it is only the primary basis. It determines the formation of the group, but the organization of the group, without which even the gregarious instinct could not hold it together for long, depends on quite other conditions, for the operation of some of which the mere grouping affords, as we have said, the necessary opportunity. We must not, therefore, attach too much importance to the gregarious instinct. It may lead to the formation of a group, and attract individuals to a group which has been formed, but, in maintaining the group, other factors are even more important. * Social Psychology, p. 168. viii] The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies 187 These factors will depend on the nature of the group. On the lowest plane we have the crowd swayed by the same emotions, and while so swayed, having the same interests and aims. The larger the crowd, the more it attracts the individual, and the more completely it dominates the individual personality. The attraction and the dominancy are, however, not due to the gregarious instinct alone, but to the emotional satisfaction as a whole which the situation affords. There is a kind of in- toxication by emotions. But strong emotions, by their urgency, attain their ends forthwith, or exhaust themselves by their own violence, and then the crowd, in spite of the operation of the gregarious impulse, gradually falls apart into the individuals composing it. On the highest plane we have the organized 'community,' with common interests and ends, not welded together by emotion, but held together by these common interests and ends, and therefore depending little upon the operation of the gregarious instinct. In refusing to recognize the * consciousness of kind,' alleged as the basis of the gregarious instinct and allied phenomena by Giddings, we are also inclined to agree with McDougalP. If by 'consciousness of kind' is meant some kind of instinctive or innate knowledge, then, as we have already seen, there is nothing in instinctive activity which requires us to postu- late such a knowledge, and it creates more difficulties than it solves. The Acquisitive Tendency. In spite of the numerous studies of the 'collecting' instinct, or habit, in children, there is, so far as we know,' no good systematic psychological discussion of the instinct itself. McDougall has treated it very summarily. James has devoted to it a little more attention, but has given it by no means adequate treatment. Other psychologists have either ignored it altogether, or avoided the real psychological problems which it presents. This is rather strange in view of the fact that no instinct, with perhaps one solitary exception, presents more and greater difficulties in its psychology, few present difficulties of which 1 Social Psychology, p. 298, 188 The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies [CH. the psychological solution is more interesting, and few play so prominent a part in the ordinary, everyday life of Man. There is no strong or exalted emotion, it is true, but the impulse to appropriate and possess is powerfid in the adult, as in the child, in the civilized man, as in the savage. The greatest psychological difficulty, which the instinct presents for our solution, is probably as regards the kind of perceptual situation which evokes it. It is almost impossible to make any statement, that it is evoked by this or that situa- tion, without coming upon some manifestations of the instinct, which cannot be reconciled with the statement. If we say the instinct is determined by the perception of objects which give pleasure to the eye, the ear, or to any of the senses, we are faced with the numerous instances where worthless odds and ends, from which no sense-pleasure whatsoever can be derived, are appropriated and hoarded. If we suggest that rare objects evoke it, we are met with the cases of the misers who have hoarded old newspapers^- The miscellaneous collection in a schoolboy's pocket seems to defy any general formula, and, were a general formula foumd to cover aU these objects, would it explain the case of the man who stole his own silver spoons from his own dining-room, to hoard them in his barn^l A great part of this difficulty seems to arise from the fact that the tendency, if it is ever speci&c as regards its object, can easily attach itself to practically any object, and thus becomes almost 'general,' on what McDougall has called the 'afferent' side. This fact might even lead us to classify it among the general tendencies, were it not that the behaviour is always more or less specific, and generally highly specific. The emotional accompaniment too, though it has no definite name in popular speech, unless we take the word 'greed' to signify it, is un- mistakably specific in quality. If we attempt careful analysis, we shaU. probably come to the conclusion, that primarily any small object, which attracts the attention and pleases, evokes the acquisitive tendency; but, as we find it in Man, it is in the main determined by objects 1 James, Friiud'plRS of Psychology, vol. ii, p. 425. ^ James, op. oit., toI. n, p. 426. viii] The Specific ^Instinct' Tendencies 189 apprehended as 'valuable,' and the attaching of 'value' to the object is largely, though not entirely, a social process. For that reason we classified the tendency as 'social.' We want to possess what others possess and prize, or what others would prize, if they possessed it. The objects sought will thus fall into two categories, and both categories, but especially the second, afford scope for almost infinite variety. This relation to others seems to indicate that the self- tendencies are cooperating factors. The satisfaction in posses- sion is not in the mere possessing, as it would be if the acquisitive tendency alone were operative, but in the effect of this posses- sion on our relations with our fellows, an effect which may be either real or merely imagined. But, though this would possibly account for most of the phenomena, there are other phenomena which indicate that other tendencies may also co- operate — and almost any other tendency — in giving the ' value. ' Educationally the acquisitive tendency is significant in several ways, but there are two main points which deserve notice. The first is that it may be used as a source of interest both direct and indirect. What is a prized possession has already an interest, which may be utilized in the development of further interest; what would be prized as a possession has an interest, which will be transferred to the means which secure its possession. The second is in connection with the development of the distinction between meum and twum., not merely in theory but in practice. Though social in its origin, the desire to possess is, in the first instance, anti-social in its tendency. It is thus the cause of childish misdemeanours and crimes, which often give the parent and teacher much concern. In dealing with this problem, the principle to be kept in view is, that the recognition in act of the distinction between meum and tuum must be developed without the unnecessary weakening of a natural impulse, which, normally developed, contributes not a little to strength of purpose, will, and character in adult life. Two courses may be followed, both of which are incon- sistent with this principle, and both of which are xmwise. On the one hand, we may attempt direct repression of the 190 The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies [CH. acquisitive tendency, and especially of illegitimate manifesta- tions. This will rarely give more than apparent success, and is very likely to cause more evils than it cures. On the other hand we may attempt to weaken the impulse indirectly by developing 'giving' as a habit. To call this the development of generosity, is, in our opinion, to take an entirely wrong view of what is happening. Generosity is of course a valuable quality, but let us not be slaves to words. If the habit of giving away toys, for example, is developed in such a manner as to make the feeliag of possession, and the pleasure in posses- sion, practically non-existent, such generosity as results can be of very little moral value, and it has been obtained at a very heavy price^. Courtship and the Self -Tendencies. One reason for recogniz- ing the courtship tendency as an original tendency, which may be distinguished from the sex ' appetite,' is that we do not think the latter alone can ever account for the facts of love between the sexes in developed human life ; our reason for associating it with the self-tendencies is that, in the behaviour which it determines, it is almost inseparable from these. That we must recognize the impulse of sex on the two levels, the level of 'appetite,' and the level of 'instinct,' seems indubitable. Mating, even as low down as the birds, is not a matter of the sex 'appetite' alone. Some of the phenomena might be ex- plained by James's principle of the 'inhibition of instincts by habits^,' if we accept that principle, but there are phenomena which such a principle cannot explain. We do not, however, intend to discuss the courtship tendency at present, and have merely mentioned it for the sake of completeness, and because of its relation, as regards behaviour, to the self-tendencies, with which we are mainly concerned. The seH-tendencies, Kibot's 'positive' and 'negative self- feeling',' McDougall's 'self-display' and 'self-abasement,' or, as emotions, 'elation' and 'subjection^', have only recently ' Of. France and Kline, The Psychology of Ownership, Pedagogical Seminary, vol. VI, 1899, p. 455. Also Thomdike, Educational Psychology, Briefer Course, chap. IX. ' Principles of Psychology, vol. ii, p. 394. » Psychology of the Emotions, p. 240. « Social Psychology, p. 62. vm] The Specific ^Instinct' Tendencies 191 been adequately recognized in tHe psychology of motives. One or two of the earlier psychologists, as we have seen, recognized some of their manifestations, but even James has missed them, and, more strangely still, Shand, writing with the work of Ribot and McDougall before him, has apparently chosen to ignore this part of their work altogether, harking back to an older and imperfect classification of the primary emotions^ On the biological side, Darwin has given a very full treatment of 'self-display,' regarding it as a manifestation of the comtship tendency^, so that the psychologist must, in this case, grant to the biologist the credit for calhng attention to these tendencies, before psychological analysis was able to discover them in their purity. The perceptual situation, which originally determines the instinct of self-display, is the presence of another, and in some way inferior, individual of the same 'kind,' that is, apart from its manifestation under the influence of the courtship tendency, while the perceptual situation, which determines the instinct of self-abasement, is the presence of another, and in some way superior, individual of the same 'kind.' In the one case there is perceptual consciousness of superiority, in the other of inferiority, and probably in the most primitive manifestations of the two tendencies the superiority or inferiority is nearly always in size or strength. The characteristic behaviour of the two instincts has been admirably described by McDougall in the two words, 'strutting' and 'sUnking*.' The accompanying consciousness, manifesting itself in this behaviour, may be described as the 'am I not a wonder?' consciousness, and the 'please don't notice me' con- sciousness. The impulse attains its satisfaction, in each case, when the other shows the opposite impulse and behaviour. There are some difficulties with regard to the corresponding emotions, which are not nearly so well defined as McDougall would have us believe. The tendencies are partly satisfied in their own feelings, but the real satisfaction is nevertheless in the signs in others of the opposite feelings, 'negative' with 1 The Foundations of Character, book n. 2 The Descent of Man, 2nd ed. pp. 894 ff. " Social Psychology, p. 64. 192 The Specific 'Instinct' Tendencies [CH. 'positive,' and 'positive' with 'negative.' If these signs fail to be forthcoming, the_^ impulse fails to find its satisfaction, and this is the point at which we should, on analogy, expect the emotional excitement to show itself, which, if the tendency continued to be baulked, should ultimately give way to anger. But — confining ourselves to the instinct of self-display, where the emotional phenomena are more definite — we find that, in this case of the checking of the impulse through failure to elicit the appropriate signs from others, if there is any emotion at all aroused, prior to anger, it is not 'elation' but the opposite emotion. 'Elation,' and the corresponding triumphant air, are really produced when the impulse has attained its end. These phenomena — and the parental instinct exhibits apparently phenomena of a similar or analogous nature — appear to be fatal to McDougall's theory of the instinct- emotions, but they seem to be equally fatal to our view. Is it possible to retain our view of the nature of emotion, and its relation to instinct-interest, at the same time explaining these emotional phenomena? The solution we would ofier is this : In what we should call the 'joy' emotions, the emotional 'tension' may arise under conditions exactly the reverse of those under which emotional 'tension' ordinarily arises. In the ordinary case there is 'tension' because the satisfaction of the interest lags behind the impulse. In the case of the 'joy' emotions, there may also be 'tension,' because the satis- faction of the interest outstrips action, because action cannot follow with sufficient rapidity an impulse stimulated by the satisfaction already attained, which, from the nature of the case, is always of the stimulating order. When an attempt is made to interpret either 'elation,' or some of the emotional accompaniments of parental affection, anger, and several other instinct-emotions, in a way consistent with McDougall's position, the denial of the emotional character of 'joy^' seems to make the attempt quite hopeless. The difficulties are by no means surmoimted by considering 'elation' in connection with the self-tendencies alone. Con- sider the fighting instinct. There is sometimes in the operation ^ Social Psychology, p. 149 ff. viii] The Spedfic ^Instinct' Tendencies 193 of this instinct a 'joy' or 'elation,' which is quite independent of the satisfaction of the impulse, so far as that consists in the destruction of an enemy, and which cannot be considered to arise from anger at all. For some natures merely to fight is "to drink dehght of battle," the dehght being in the struggle itself, not in its successful issue. This is the kind of fighting instinct which has characterized the great warriors of aU ages. In other spheres of action it has also characterized the great sailors, explorers, even reformers. It is par excellence the characteristic of a warUke race, and, because of this, the warlike races are nearly always capable, on occasion, of the highest chivalry, for, when they fight, they are inspired by the joy of battle, not by hate of the enemy. The hunting instinct and the acquisitive tendency often exhibit analogous phenomena. How can we account for such phenomena? One way of accounting for them is by an appeal to the play impulse. But, as we shall see when we come to discuss play, this will not account for the facts. The battle which is a joy is not play, but the grimmest reaHty; if it were play, the joy would dis- appear, or at least be radically altered m quahty. The real explanation is to be found rather in the cooperation of the 'positive' self -tendency, in the feeling of strength and power developed when we assert our superiority to circumstances, and confidently face a difficult or dangerous situation. This seems to be the only way in which we can explain the joyful emotion, which appears to be quite different in quality from the normal anger of the fighting instinct. We must take into accoxmt, as before, the exhilarating character of the 'positive' seK-feeUng itself, which, stimulating the impulse, develops 'tension' by outstripping the possibilities of action. So is it always in the intoxication of joy, the 'tension,' in the extreme case, being relieved by an emotional 'storm,' usually what we call 'laughter,' the 'sudden glory' of Hobbes, but often by the opposite kind of emotional 'storm,' 'weeping,' and sometimes by a mixture or alternation of the two. Ribot^ meets the difficulty of explaining 'joy,' by contend- ing, like McDougall, that we cannot consider 'joy' emotional, * Psychology of