In describing morality as an art, I do not merely mean that there is a fine art of conduct, of which good manners are an obvious instance: the delicate adjustment of behaviour to small or subtle changes in our circumstances, the variation of our responses with differences in the age, standing, consideration of the persons with whom we talk. That there is such an art of good life is true, but it only means that in the instruments of life, as with our microscopes and telescopes, there are fine as well as coarse adjustments. Nor do I mean merely that, as Plato said, living is a craft, like weaving or carpentering, and that virtue is its technique. I mean something more than an analogy; and that the best way to understand morality is to see what it has in common with fine art, and at the same time the differences which, leaving it still an art, separate it from fine art.

The guiding idea of Palágyi's Monism is what he has called the Principle of Polarity. This is made clear in Palágyi's own preface to the second edition of his main work, the Naturphilosophische Vorlesungen (N.V.). The lectures were originally given in 1908. The Second Edition and the Preface date from 1924. In this preface we learn that the quest for the creative on the one hand, and for unity through polarity on the other, were ever the two leading motives of his thought. Both are pervasive and permanent, and they support each other; but in so far as the intellectual urge towards unity prevails over the more artistic impulse to creative freedom, it is the principle of polarity that receives the main stress and exercises the greater influence. For Palágyi, as for Hegel, it is the main principle of mental evolution. “ Polarity,” so Palágyi tells us (N.V., p. vii), does not simply mean “ opposition,” the

The problem before us is the question: How far is the term ‘ instinct ‘ applicable in ethics? How far is it true to say that instincts are the determinants of the good, or moral, life? And if it is true at all to say they are determinants, how Far is it true?

The current conception of liberty is both negative and individualistic. It rests upon obsolete assumptions. Philosophers may be conscious of the defects of such assumptions, but even that is doubtful; and clearly the average journalist or politician is by no means aware of them, for the advocates of “ liberty,” in the old sense, have a very weak case, and its opponents attack it on the wrong grounds. The controversy in the lecture-room is not important. The quarrels of commentators are trivial. But there is a mortal conflict between the advocates and opponents of liberty in the sphere of government, industrial organization, and education. In the policies of those who have social power the conflicting conceptions of liberty are operative; and the battle is still uncertain, because it is normally fought upon the basis of unexamined assumptions.

There is a sense, perhaps, in which our present topic is like Mrs. Harris, or snakes in Ireland, or the reigning King of Portugal—that is to say that there is no such thing. For if by communist one means simply a “ red,” it is at least permissible to argue that Moscow and Leningrad are places where there can be no ethics at all. In saying this I do not mean to refer to any particular actions whose object has been to establish the dictatorship of the proletariat, or in other words the next immediate step in the policy of these communists. What Zinoviev and others of them say is that they are engaged in a war against all bourgeois administrations, and that, being at war, they are not bound to accept the rules of French duelling,i.e. any outworn conventions, whether these are called ethical or not. Since it is admitted, I suppose, by nearly every

“ The doubtful story of successive events.” With this contemptuous phrase1 Bernard Bosanquet brushed aside the claim of history to be considered a study deserving the attention of a thoughtful mind. Unsatisfactory in form, because never rising above uncertainty; unsatisfactory in matter, because always concerned with the transitory, the successive, the merely particular as opposed to the universal; a chronicle of small beer, and an untrustworthy chronicle at that. Yet Bosanquet was well read in history; he had taught it as a young man at Oxford, and his first published work had been a translation of a recent German book on the Athenian constitution; he knew that a vast amount of the world's best genius in the last hundred years had been devoted to historical studies; and when, late in life, he asked himself what it came to, that was all he could say.

Among the studies on the history of philosophy recently published in Italy, one that may be of some interest to the English reader is by DR. Abbagnano, a young pupil of Aliotta, and is devoted to the new English idealism.1 Truthfully speaking, the term ‘ new ’ is inappropriate, or partly so, because Abbagnano dedicates the greater part of his study to what we might call the ‘ old ’ idealism in England, represented by Stirling, the two Cairds, Wallace, Green, and Bradley. However, he does also pass in review the more recent doctrines, particularly those of J. H. Muirhead, G. H. Howison, D. G. Richtie, J. E. Creighton, J. B. Baillie, J. S. Mackenzie, H. Jones, W. E. Hocking, A. S. Pringle Pattison, and G. P. Adams. Abbagnano regards as a distinctive trait of English idealism inspired by Hegel as opposed to Hegel himself, this, that “for Hegel the absolute is essentially process, change and becoming; it is thought which differentiates itself and becomes articulate in a life of its own, in the threefold rhythm of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, in which each moment passes into the next. For Green, Bradley, and Royce, the absolute is on the other hand immutability, completeness, static perfection, in which each process and becoming is overcome and resolved.” At any rate, Abbagnano is equally unsympathetic towards Hegel and towards his followers, against whom he opposes, not without scholastic ingenuity, his own irrationalistic views, set out in another book whose contents are sufficiently expressed in the title.1

Some new information has recently come to light with regard to philosophy in Russia. It appears that it is next to impossible for anyone living there to study the subject or indeed to form an adequate conception of it. There is not a single teacher of philosophy or logic in any of the Universities ; a course of the history of philosophy is only read in theethnological department of the Moscow University. It is proposed, however, to introduce the teaching of logic and of the history of philosophy in certain towns “ when a sufficient number of teachers are available,” and with this purpose a department of philosophy at the ‘ Institute of red professorship ’ has been opened. But the qualifications required of the future professors of philosophy make one more than doubtful of their capacity to teach the subject. All that is required of them is that they should have read the first volume of Lange's History of Materialism, Hoffding's History of Modern Philosophy, Gomperz's Greek Thinkers up to Socrates (only the early part of Gomperz's work has been translated into Russian, and the knowledge of foreign languages is not required from the candidates), Wundt's Introduction to Philosophy, and the writings of various philosophizing Marxists. In addition to these academic qualifications they must have a recommendation from the communist party or some similar organization. The kind of ideas that are being instilled into these prospective teachers may be gathered from the writings of the accredited ‘ red ’ philosophers in the only philosophical periodical which is being published in Russia, Under the Banner of Marxism, and in other magazines.