generation; the earlier terms of the series provide us with a simplification which is the counterpart of isolation in physical experiment; each successive later term answers the purpose of synthetic recombination under increasingly complex conditions. Sixth, a complete historical account of the development of any ethical idea or practice would not only enable us to interpret both its cruder and more mature forms, but—what is even more important—would give us insight into the operations and conditions which make for morality, and thus afford us intellectual tools for attacking other moral facts. Seventh, in analogy with the results flowing in physical sciences from intellectual control, we have every reason to suppose that the successful execution of this mode of approach would yield also fruit in practical control: that is, knowledge of means by which individual and corporate conduct might be modified in desirable directions. If we get knowledge of a process of generation, we get knowledge of how to proceed in getting a desired result.
I have endeavored in this paper simply to show that either morality must remain outside the sphere of science, or be approached and attacked by the historical method. This is what I mean by the 'necessity' of this method. It still remains open to an objector to take the first of the alternatives, and hold that morality is not open to any sort of scientific treatment, and that it is essential to its existence as morality that it should not be so treated. In other words, I have not as yet discussed directly the question of what the bearing of the application of the historical method, as scientific mode of approach, is upon the value or validity of distinctively moral phenomena. To that problem, accordingly, my next article will be devoted. What does this method do for morality as morality, and how? I shall endeavor to show that the method not only does not destroy distinctively ethical values, but that it supplies them with an added sanction.
John Dewey.
The University of Chicago.
