intuition.

These forms of intellectual manifestation were developed out of the primary psychic trunk as accessories to, and servants of the will; for the better accomplishment of the object of sentient life, the satisfaction of desire. With all this philosophy has had little or nothing to do.

At this point is reached the domain of philosophy as it has always been understood, which, it is thus seen, only deals with faculties or branches of the intellect which are secondary in rank and derivative in character, having grown out of the main trunk and departed more or less from the original nature of the intellectual process. It is safe to say that none of these could by any possibility have been developed directly from nature. There is nothing upon which any of the primary biological laws could seize to give an initial impulse to such faculties. For this there is required some powerful motive, and in biology that motive always is advantage. There are certain mental qualities which are admitted to be exempt from the biological law of advantage, since their excercise in no way tends to render their possessor any more fit to survive in the struggle for existence. Any faculty of which this is true has in this quality the stamp of derivativeness; has, as it were, a modern facies. When Schopenhauer insisted with so much force and truth that the intellect was a mere accident, a late graft upon the will as the main psychic trunk, he had in mind only the intellect of Kant and the other philosophers who ignored the great intuitive branch out of which these modern disinterested, and therefore dependent branches, have developed. His charge was therefore doubly true as thus restricted. It would be sufficiently true of all intellect, as has been abundantly shown, but intellect proper, and in its essential nature, as a servant of the will and a new means of securing the objects of sentient life, is as much more ancient than the derivative intellect of the philosophers as it is more modern than the will from which it sprang.

Of all these modern, derivative outgrowths of the primary and original intellect, the one which seems to be genetically the

most intimately connected with it, is the faculty of rearranging the materials in the possession of the mind into new forms, combinations, and relations. The old philosophers have treated this faculty chiefly in its passive and less important aspect under the head of imagination. But its more important aspect is the active one in which it is seen as a so-called creative faculty. Just as in imagination all admit that nothing can be constructed by the mind whose materials were not all there already, so the term creative is uniformly understood to refer to the elaboration of ideas already existing, the only thing that is new being the form, combination, or arrangement of these ideas. But creation in this sense differs from imagination in implying that the resultant idea is strong enough to produce a motor discharge to the appropriate muscles, thus causing the bodily activities necessary to realize the ideal. That is to say, the active form. of the imagination makes something. Here, as in some cases previously referred to, language supplies a link in the evidence of the primary process afterwards lost sight of. For among the first things made by the creative faculty were literary productions, and the earliest form of these was the poetic form; and a poem in its etymological significance is simply something made.

The faculty, however, had a much earlier origin. In fact it was simply a development from the inventive faculty, and can be successfully affiliated upon that. It was seen that so soon as that faculty had fairly cut loose from the lower forms of egoistic intuition and began to be independent of the bodily desires it took the character of inventive genius, the first work of which was the fashioning of objects of utility. Pari passu with this intellectual step there was developing a rude esthetic sentiment which began to furnish a new attraction and to become an end to be satisfied. Its earliest form was probably the love of ornamentation, and inventive genius was directed to the production of such objects as ministered to this incipient sense of the beautiful. This form of utility was felt to be generically distinct from the primary form, which related solely to the sat

isfaction of real wants or needs. Hitherto the useful was that, and that only, which made existence possible or less difficult. It was chiefly limited to supplying the prime necessities of life, food, clothing, shelter, protection, and the successive improvements to these. It was soon extended to the means of increasing the quantity and quality of these supplies, and at length to the means of obtaining any form of property or wealth. Whatever contributes to those ends is recognized as practical, and, as already stated, it is inventive genius which furnishes the practical arts. Creative genius, on the contrary, while it also yields a form of art, ignores the practical and pursues only the esthetic. It results in what are popularly distinguished as the fine arts. But the distinction is not always well defined. There are thousands of useful objects of art which are at the same time ornamental, and wherever this is the case, both inventive and creative genius have been at work; the useful part has resulted from the former and the esthetic part from the latter. One of the great departments of fine art, viz., architecture, occupies an intermediate place between the two. History shows that at the outset domestic architecture belonged exclusively to the practical arts while religious architecture was chiefly a fine art. In many parts of the world this is still largely the case. In the large cities of Mexico the only buildings over two stories in height are the churches and these are almost the only ones that are at all embellished. In such lands it would seem that God alone is thought worthy to dwell in a beautiful house.

It thus appears that creative genius is near akin to inventive genius, and it is this close relationship that makes it necessary when seeking the genesis of the intellectual faculties to place it first in the secondary or derivative series, Inventive genius is itself derivative, since it makes its own operations and products an end instead of a means to the great end of being, but the obvious identity of its modus operandi with that of the inventive faculty in its primary form, where this was not the case, renders it impossible to separate them in a logical arrange

ment of the intellectual faculties It is here, within the life history of that form of intuition, that the first divergence from the primordial egoistic type took place. But creative genius, which has cut loose not only from self but from everything practical and is following after the esthetic alone, constitutes a distinct branch of the intellect, leading far away from the original intuitive trunk.

The divergence of creation from invention may be explained in the following manner: In dealing with the actual materials and forces of nature the mind found itself constantly hemmed in by facts. It could only go so far when it would gladly go farther. The brain had registered a thousand perceptions from observation and experience which could not be realized in the inventive product. That could only embody so much as could be made to conform to the actual environment. An invention is therefore a compromise between the ideal of the inventor and the hard facts of nature. To be useful it must respect the latter. Practical art can only rise so high. Above the limit its practical character is lost and it becomes merely ornamental. But the mind itself, untrammeled by material conditions, possesses the power of selecting from among all its airy materials just such as it esteems the best, and of combining these into any desired form, thus mentally realizing its highest ideal. And having thus constructed a mental image the passion for beauty is often strong enough to impel the execution of this ideal with greater or less fidelity and its reproduction in visible or audible form by means of the appropriate material adjustments. This latter part is always the result of skill prompted by vivid mental representative power and usually prolonged labor. In the execution of a statue or a painting, or in the production of a poem or a romance, the mind is set free from the stern realities of the world, unimpeded by the properties of material bodies or the nature of physical forces, and only limited by the mental and muscular powers of representation and execution, and the tools and materials employed in the

work. But objects thus created can have no practical value in the popular sense; they can only contribute to esthetic gratification.

Schopenhauer maintained that this pursuit of pure ideals, this contemplation of nature apart from utility, might be carried so far as to constitute a denial of the will to live, and a complete identification of the subject with the object. This is one of the few cases in which his zeal for a favorite theory led him astray from the path of sound logic. For he rightly maintained that pleasure was the satisfaction of desire and that the will was a blind pursuit of pleasure. He also held that the denial of the will was an abnegation of pleasure and if complete would reduce life itself to zero. And yet in his apotheosis of art we actually find him using language which implies the recognition of pleasure derived from the act of denying the will. Such expressions as "esthetic enjoyment" (ästhetischer Genuss), "joy in the beautiful" (Freude am Schönen), "happiness and mental repose" (Seligkeit und Geistesruhe), as well as his stronger statements that the pure willless cognition of the beauty of nature is the only pure happiness, and that moments in which we are freed from the pressure of the will are the happiest that we know, betray a remarkable confusion in his ideas both of pleasure and will.

This point of view is of interest here in illustrating the important fact that with the creative faculty, and to a great degree with the inventive genius, the will itself in Schopenhauer's acceptation took on a considerable extension; that the brain had now become an emotional center and seat of enjoyment, and that henceforth the mind itself was to have desires to satisfy, and to become in so far itself a dynamic factor or psychic force.