prevent this; but also positively to bring the two worlds into a rational unity, and so attain the satisfaction of reason on all its several sides. It abhors a mutilated experience.
Now it seems to me that this view of the matter affords a conception of philosophy in which its essential nature and its worthy mission are alike fully expressed. Indeed, from this point of view the definition of philosophy includes the description and the justification of the practical purpose of philosophy. Its delimitation of its field in this way also marks out clearly the goal toward which its energies are directed in the exercise of its peculiar function for the higher good of humanity. What it really is, thus conceived of, suggests and demonstrates its worth.
Doubtless it will be objected by many who take no interest in philosophy, and perhaps by some whose interest in either the speculations or the practical mission of philosophy is great, that I am not justified in using such a word as 'demonstrate' in this connection. Here, again, the barrenness of definite and permanent results shown by philosophical discipline, especially in ontological or metaphysical inquiries, may be made a subject of complaint. How can one say that any conception of the task of philosophy is enough to prove the value of the mission of philosophy? And do not the facts of history show the very contrary of what it is undertaken to prove in such easy-going a priori fashion?
To such inquiries as these a decided negative reply can most confidently be made. Without doubt, the task of philosophy never has been, nor is now, otherwise than very imperfectly and temporarily fulfilled. Its very nature is such as to require a progressive realization. In other words, the critical and reflective thinking of mankind, as it exists in diffused form among the multitudes of the people or in its more concentrated 'essence' with those who bear the express label of 'philosopher,' is always in a process of evolution. As with every good and true thing human, our choice is not between perfection and imperfection, between a finality of truth and a compound of ancient error, it is, the rather, between growth and death. Every age must attack anew the problems which, with all their appearance of venerable antiquity
