with the finest sensibilities, and stirred by the creative impulse; but his style was always his instrument. He found it above all a means of communication; for nothing was more notable about him than the social quality of his thought. He wrote for his readers, his vivid imagination of their presence guiding him infallibly to the centre of their minds. And his style was also the means of faithfully representing his experience. It was figurative and pictorial, because the world he saw was a procession of concrete happenings, abounding in novelty and uniqueness. For his originality lay, not in his invention, but in the extraordinary freshness of his perception, and in an imagination which was freed from convention only to yield itself utterly to the primeval and native quality of the world as he found it. His thought was always of the actual world spread before him, of what he called "the particular facts of life." He relied little on dialectic, but brought his powers of observation into play where the traditional philosophy had abstracted the problem and carried it off into the closet. And to this first-hand acquaintance with particulars he added a keen zest for metaphysical speculation. He was curious, as the natural man is curious, loving the adventure of exploration, and preferring the larger riddles of existence to the purely technical problems of the schools. His resources were by no means limited to the results of his own observation. He probably read more widely than any philosopher of his day. He did not, however, value erudition for its own sake, but only as a means of getting light. His reading was always selective and assimilative; he converted it at once into intellectual tissue, so that it gave him strength and buoyancy and never merely a burden to carry. And he learned from men as well as from books. Always governed by his likings rather than his aversions, generous and open-hearted, men who shrank from others gave their unsuspected best to him. In short, his mind was instinctively discriminating. He not only knew the good from the evil, but he was guided by a remarkably independent judgment of proportion. He was never led to accept a thing as important simply because it had acquired a certain professional or academic prominence; and he was rarely imposed on by the respectable humbug, though he opened his mind to whatever was humanly significant, even though it might be socially disreputable. It is impossible to divorce his intellectual gifts from his character. His openmindedness, which has become proverbial, was only one of many signs of his fundamental truthfulness. Having no pride of opinion, and setting little store by his personal prestige, his mind remained flexible and hospitable to the end. His very modesty and guilelessness were sources of power. For his modesty was not a form of self-consciousness, but a preoccupation with things or persons other than himself. And his guilelessness was not a childlike naïveté, but a sincerity and openness of motive. He was possessed of a certain shrewdness and directness-an ability to come to the heart of affairs at a stroke that made him the wisest of counselors. But he had no ambitions which he attempted to conceal, and no prerogatives of which he was jealous; so that he met his students and his friends with a natural simplicity and an entirely uncalculating indifference to distinctions of social eminence. He proved the possibility of possessing taste and personal distinction without pride or aloofness. And his democracy was a matter of conviction, as well as of impulse. He believed heartily in the institutions of his country, and shared those hopes of freedom, peace, and happiness, which unite men and nerve them to take part in the work of civilization. James did not found a school. He was incapable of that patient brooding upon the academic nest that is necessary for the hatching of disciples. The number of those who borrowed his ideas is small and insignificant beside the number of those that through him were brought to have ideas of their own. His greatness as a teacher lay in his implanting and fostering of intellectual independence. He prized his own university for its individualism and tolerance, and for the freedom which it gave him to subordinate the scholastic office and the scholastic method to a larger human service. So the circle of his influence widened to the bounds of European civilization; while his versatility, his liberal sympathies, the coincidence of his ruling passions with the deeper interests of mankind at large, and above all the profound goodness of his heart, so diversified and humanized this influence that there were few indeed too orthodox or too odd to respond to it. INDEX ABSOLUTISM, ch. viii; general mean- ACQUAINTANCE, 225, 310, 354, 366 BACON, 5, 6, 23, 33 BERGSON, H., 50, 74, 223, 224, 229 ff., 238 ff., 251, 255 ff., 261 ff., 299ff. BRADLEY, F. H., 101, 133, 149, 150, CAIRD, E., 149, 156 CATEGORIES, the, 139 ff., 149, 158 ff. CHESTERTON, G. K., 9 CHRISTIANITY, 5, 14, 31 IDEALISM, cardinal principle of, 38, 198; absolute, ch. viii, 325; and IDEAS, 137, 200 ff., 226, 231, 265, IMMANENCE, theory of, 306 ff. IMMORTALITY, 191, 374 INDEFINITE POTENTIALITY, 66 ff., 75 INDETERMINISM, 371 ff.; pluralism INITIAL PREDICATION, definition by, INTEREST, 300 ff., 333, 342, 351 JAMES, W., 9, 197, 206, 207, 209, KANT, 34, 37, 118, 136, 139 ff., matic theory of, ch. ix, 242 ff., LAW, 55, 100, 255, 341 LIFE, 197, 238, 262, 341; realistic LOGIC, 82 ff., 145 ff., 166, 175, 180, MCDOUGALL, W., 298 MACH, E., 78 ff., 298, 310 MCTAGGART, J. M. E., 157, 177, 183, 191 MARBURG SCHOOL, 145 MATERIALISM, 68 ff. (See also un- der NATURALISM.) MIND, 78, 79; as substance, 136; MONISM, of matter, 68 ff.; of force, 70 ff.; of substance, 72 ff.; episte- MORALITY, 333 ff. MOTOR THEORY, of consciousness, NATORP, P., 145, 279 NECESSITY, 140, 160 OPTIMISM, 344 OSTWALD, W., 75 PANPSYCHISM, 74, 315 PAPINI, G., 230, 264 PERCEPTION, 205 ff., 226, 289 ff., piricism, 242 ff.; and external rela- POSITIVISM, 38 |