of the outer world is reflection of our self-knowledge upon its appearance to us. If the light within us is an illusion, all seen in that light is as a dream. "If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness."

This does not leave us in mere phenomenalism. Mind as manifesting itself in its distinctive kind of energy in consciousness; matter as appearing in its kind of energy to mind-these are the two ultimates of known being, and the reality of both lies in their power to become manifest. The self-realizing is the self-revealing of personal life. The appearance of the world is announcement to the mind of its actual presence. The decided tendency of modern thought, therefore, is neither toward a mere phenomenalism, nor an empty idealism, but to some form of real idealism. We discover ourselves living as centres and sources of energy in a universe of forces. We find it to be an ordered system of energies. Such order and system are evidence alike of permanent form and ceaseless transformation; and that evinces some constant reality. Nature has intelligible coherence; there is logic in its order. In this sense Hegel's maxim has truth: "The real is the rational, and the rational is the real." The natural sciences indicate this philosophic trend toward some kind of real idealism. (See Chap. XI.)

We have reached thus far these results from the preceding inquiries: that mind and body are set in an order of interacting energies; and the energies, of which in the act of living we become aware, are referred in consciousness to a common centre and source which we accept as the self. Consciousness with us is become self-consciousness. The personal may so far be described as the constant of consciousness; personality equals the constant of energy, potential and kinetic, of the individual consciousness. Scepticism within the limits of our selfknowledge is not called for by our ignorance of the uni

We are real and rational to ourselves; and hence we may look for the real and the rational beyond ourselves. Not troubling ourselves, therefore, overmuch concerning the intrinsic and ultimate substantiality of the soul (the metaphysics, or what might be called the meta-conception of it), possessing ourselves in the fulness of personal powers, we shall go on in the following chapters seeking and finding still further signs to lead us into the meaning and hope of personal being and life.

It is not necessary to think of a being as existing in space, that is, as having extended or material substantiality, in order to think of it as persistent, that is, as being identical throughout its temporal existence. It may be conceived as permanent in time as an identical flow of energies, without regard to its existence in space. Then a temporally identical series might again be thought of as related to existences other than itself in space, and, so perceiving itself in relation to them, as also related to space. In other words, a finite progression conceived as ever flowing on, changing in its temporal successions, yet ever identical with itself, would be for its period of existence a permanent entity.

McDougall (Body and Mind, p. 162) argues that it is impossible to banish the idea of substance from psychology. Conceptually this is true. But may we not say that the conscious subject is aware of its substantiality, i. e., of its permanent individual existence as distinct from objective, or of its phenomenal being, although we may not be able to form a conception of what it is that gives to it its consciousness of self-substantial identity? May we not have a perceptive feeling of the substantiality of being although the nature of substance lies beyond apperception? The flow of conscious energy may be conceived to become aware of its flowing as the same stream throughout; as potential it is always itself, and not another. If it be asked, What, then, holds the conscious stream together as the same stream? it might be answered: It is by its own motion that it maintains its continuity; somewhat as a gyroscope is held up by its own circling; or, better, as a vortex ring of the

ether is supposed to maintain a very solid and persistent identity as a form of motion. This verisimilitude, however, goes no further than its relation to the difficulty of supposing identity of existence that is not thought of as a substance. The identity lies in the continuity of a process.

Our self-consciousness is limited both by inward and outward forces-inwardly because it is a self-centring circling of energies; outwardly because held within its own sphere by the forces of the universe in which it has its being. In short, we know ourselves really, though not categorically; in essential selfidentity, though not in material substance. Inconceivableness as to how we are what we are, is not contradiction of our primal knowledge that we are. It may be only a limitation of our present partial development; we have not as yet fully come to ourselves as personal beings.

It is another question whether some embodiment, or material substantiality, is a necessary condition or means of acquisition or retention of the sense of personal identity: whether some embodiment is necessary for its maintenance after death. To this we shall return later on.

CHAPTER V

DEVELOPMENT OF PERSONALITY

THUS far we have been seeking for the meaning of personal life as it may be discerned in our thoughtful experience of it. But our personal consciousness was not given to us as something ready-made at birth to be possessed and converted at once to use, as some awareness of life may be given to the animal world. We have a vast deal to do in making ourselves and teaching ourselves after we have received at birth our individual share of a human inheritance. Our inquiry would not be complete without critical consideration of the development of the individual person.

Of the earliest period of infancy our memories retain no traces; yet in the first two or three years of life the structural lines are laid down, and the individual tendencies of the subsequent development of character are largely determined. In these unremembered years of infancy nature finishes in the main its work of making us, and we begin to make ourselves. In the early hours of life just before the dawn of clear self-consciousness, the secret of our origin lies unrevealed, and from the infinite mystery and silence out of which our brief day of life arose, no voice is heard, no sign appears to tell us whence we came and whither we go. All the more eagerly, therefore, must we search the natural history of the growth of personality from the earliest moments of distinct selfconsciousness for indications, even the slightest, of its meaning and destiny.

The development of conscious personal being from its first observed beginnings has proceeded along two lines,

the physiological and the mental; and along these two interconnecting ways it must consequently be followed in the endeavor to apprehend its meaning.

We inquire first what is now known concerning the growth of the brain, which may throw any light over the relation between body and mind. May we gain from modern physiological psychology any probable information that may help us to understand better what nature has been doing for us in our brains, and what with our minds we have been doing in making ourselves what we are?

When we gather up and review the results, thus far obtained, of experimental psychology, the answer to this inquiry seems disappointing. The laboratory explanation of us goes just far enough to leave us wondering all the more how our brains were organized for us. Here the light fails just where we begin to see. A little more knowledge at this point, or in that direction, might mean so much more. Interesting facts, indeed, are brought out as the results of painstaking investigations; useful acquaintance with some general physiological principles of value in child education has been gained. We owe much to the physiologists for the information which they have to bring to our schools and to the homes of the people concerning physical conditions and laws in relation to mental growth and soundness, and also concerning methods most useful in the nurture and training of defective children. But beyond this service of admitted value for pedagogical ends, these investigations only lead us back to the questions with which we started, and sooner or later leave us before the same limits of knowledge in our search for the ultimate meaning of embodied mind. They may, however, enable us to understand more intelligently the nature and significance of our self-knowledge, though they open no way over and beyond these limits. We naturally look first for such enlightenment to