I want to explore the possibility of an a posteriori approach to the elucidation of certain moral notions. These are: (a) the notion of a duty, some specific thing which it is incumbent on me to do, and (b) the notion of something that is a good thing for me to do. I want to consider these notions, so far as I can, independently of rules. There is a certain sense in which having a duty to do this or that is a function of circumstances, and in which this or that's being a good thing to do is likewise a function of circumstances. I shall suggest specific examples in which this is a conspicuous feature of ‘my duty’ or of what I can, beneficially, do. In these examples what I ought to do, and what it is good to do, can be represented as special ways in which what I am to do presents itself.

The problem of necessity is fundamentally a problem of knowledge: how can we know not just that something is so but that it must be so, not just that a statement is true but that it must be true? The problem arises the moment we make two fairly familiar assumptions: that all knowledge comes, in the end, from experience; and that experience can tell us only that something is so and not that it must be so. From these it follows immediately that there can be no knowledge of necessary truths. Yet obviously we do have such knowledge: we know that bachelors must be unmarried and that the angles of a Euclidean triangle must total 180°. It seems equally obvious that we do not learn such facts from experience, from observing bachelors and triangles, so it seems clear which of the assumptions is mistaken. Whatever may be the success of Locke's attack on innate knowledge, it seems undeniable that we do have knowledge which does not come from experience. We do possess some a priori knowledge, viz. knowledge of necessary truths.

Are philosophers of history—or, are some philosophers of history—sufficiently interested in questions of the details of historical research? This is intended as a real as well as a rhetorical question. I may simply have failed to find discussions that are available; but in the material I have been able to consider there is little treatment of matters of preliminary detail, and this seems to me a neglect that needs to be remedied.

The central purpose of this paper is to sketch the logic of being a democrat. That is, what is involved in being a democrat will be defined and delineated. I shall proceed by first examining Richard Wollheim's alleged paradox of democratic theory. Wollheim's solution to the paradox will then be shown to be unsatisfactory. Next, the concept of being a democrat will be clarified. The stage will then be set for showing that Wollheim's alleged paradox of democratic theory dissolves upon discerning what a democrat qua democrat is committed to believe. In the process of clarifying what is involved in being a democrat and dissolving the alleged paradox of democratic theory, it will become evident that one popular argument often levelled against resistance to democratic law is without foundation. This is the argument that any democrat who conscientiously disobeys valid democratic law is necessarily behaving inconsistently with his democratic principles; and, therefore, if someone does conscientiously disobey valid democratic law, it proves he is not ‘really’ a democrat after all.

In his book The Retreat to Commitment Professor Bartley raised an important problem: can rationalism (meaning by this something that contrasts, not with empiricism, but with irrationalism) can rationalism be held in a rational way, that is, in a way that complies with its own requirements? Or is there bound to be something irrational in the rationalist's position?

Briefly, Hartley's answer was that an element of irrationalism is involved in extant versions of rationalism; however, Bartley proposed a new version of rationalism that can, he claimed, be held in a way that is rational according to its own account of rationality. Bartley called this ‘Comprehensively Critical Rationalism’. (Being a bit of a mouthful, this is often abbreviated to ‘CCR’, a practice I will follow.)

W. D. Hudson's criticism of some points in my ‘Wittgensteinian Fideism’ are challenging and deserve comment. I remain, however, unconvinced that they require any modification in my assessment of Wittgensteinian Fideism. I shall try to justify this conviction.

In his paper ‘Collective Responsibility’ (Philosophy, July 1968) Mr. D. E. Cooper argues for the thesis that collectives can be held responsible in a sense not reducible to the individual responsibility of the members of the collective. And he uses this conclusion to support views of individual responsibility and of blame and punishment which he wishes to assert independently. Is hall argue that although there is a sense in which the actions and responsibility of a collective cannot be analysed in terms of the actions and responsibilities of the individual persons who compose the collective, it is not moral responsibility which is involved. I shall then maintain that Cooper's account of collective responsibility does not support his account of individual responsibility; and that his account of individual responsibility is in any case false, if he means moral responsiblity.

The concluding sentences of the review by Mr. J. M. Hinton of Mr. Don Locke's Perception and Our Knowledge of the External World, in the October 1968 number of Philosophy, should read as follows:

Instead of such a clarification, Locke gives us an analysis of weak perception into three elements; sensory awareness, noticing and taking yourself to perceive—weakly.

The book is not, and is not trying to be, the sort of thing I happen to like in philosophy. I hope this has not led me to be unfair to it.