each individual in the course of his education must pass through the process of refining these conceptions and a slow process it is. All our common and clear knowledge is expressible only in sensory imagery. We can indicate the meaning of terms in the last analysis only by pointing to the physical objects which they denote, and if our experiences associated with them are also common we may seize the connected meaning of things in that way. An object may become a symbol of a feeling and so language may grow to express nonsensuous mental states to those who have passed through the experience of them and their association with the sensory object. Thus to the savage, religion may be only fear of his fetish or the supposed deity in it. The word would have no other meaning for him. But if he advanced to the highest stage of civilization, it might mean a more refined mental attitude and would not be directed to a physical object at all, but to some supersensible reality which he would not fear but reverence. The term would thus denote an experience which the savage might not have, but which the civilized man would understand from its association with the whole group of ideas that have grown up in connection with all the problems of philosophy and theology. It thus becomes, not the sensuous objects that he has in mind when he speaks and thinks of the spiritual, but the states of mind which his development has associated with them, though he may still use the same old words for denominating them.

The antagonism between the reflective and the unreflective mind is this. The reflective mind tries to think of things as having some sort of existence apart from the way sensation represents them. The unreflective mind accepts his sensations as correctly reporting the nature of things. The reflective mind, for example, when it looks at a lamp thinks that the sensation is a subjective product of his own mind reacting against

undulations of light which have no resemblance to the lamp, and hence that he does not really see the lamp Das Ding itself or "in itself," to employ a familiar phrase of au sich" philosophers. He supposes, or at least thinks he supposes, that the real lamp is different from its appearance and that the mind is the important factor in making that appearance. The object or lamp is not known beyond that apparition, to use a term that helps to distinguish between appearance and reality.

On the other hand, the unreflective mind draws no such distinctions. It assumes that we see things as they are. The lamp is seen and the sensation or mind has nothing to do with making it what it is or appears to be. It does not have to think the lamp away, so to speak, in order to understand the situation. It does not even reckon with sensation. It becomes a reflective mind the moment that it admits that there is a sensation as a means of knowing the lamp. It may not even suppose there is a sensation or any peculiar process for knowing that the lamp is there. It is the object that interests it and this is seen as it is. A distinction between the lamp and the appearance is not drawn and in fact the "appearance" is not recognized as a factor in the problem. The situation is not analyzed by it into separate elements; namely, the lamp, undulations of light, impression on the retina, molecular action in the nerves transmitted to brain centers, reaction at these centers, sensation, perception, judgment, etc. These are the products of the reflective mind and they give rise to the idea that the object "in itself" is not seen, but that the mind produces the appearance and that the lamp per se is not known or perceived. We may have to infer something there as a cause to account for the mind's reaction, but it is not seen as it is.

Now this opposition between the reflective and the unreflective mind has never been wholly set aside. One

concentrates interest and attention upon the object of knowledge and cares nothing about the process and intermediate steps to it. The other fixes attention on these intermediate steps and eliminates the object from consideration. The distinction between the two types of minds is much supported by the phenomena of illusions and hallucinations, where we clearly see the difference between appearance and reality, whenever we discover that the phenomena are illusions or hallucinations. In these phenomena we find clear illustrations of things taken for real, but which turn out to be products of the imagination or the brain, so to speak. They help us to reinforce the distinction between objects and their appearance. An illusion or an hallucination may be taken as representing a real external thing, and this so firmly in a disordered mind that the conviction cannot be shaken. But the normal mind discovers that the phenomenon is only a product of his own mind. It has all the characteristics of the real thing except confirmation by another sense than the one affected. Applying the same principles to normal sense perception the reflective mind here supposes that all sensations are subjective phenomena and it tends to interpret them as indicating only the uniformity of events, not representing their nature objectively. He may accept their corrective influence on each other, but not as representing the nature of the things themselves. He will call that an illusion or hallucination which will not have an associate of the proper sort in another sense. He may resort to touch to test whether his vision may be associated with another sensation, or is an illusion or a hallucination, but he will not regard the touch as expressing anything more of the nature of the thing than sight. He will construe experiences as uniformities of events, not as correctly representing the nature of things.

Now it is clear from this that the reflective mind

gets into the habit of thinking something away, so to speak, when it tries to think or speak of things. The real world becomes to it something that is not revealed in sensation or sense perception. That is, not revealed in its nature. He thinks of it as the negative of sensation; it is not as it is seen, touched, heard, tasted, etc. Hence it is sometimes called an intellectual world, meaning that it has to be thought rather than sensed, though that mode of expression does not make it any clearer to the unreflective mind. The reflective mind tends to some form of idealism on this account. The unreflective mind tends to materialism in so far as that is expressed by sensory conceptions. The idealist means to abstract from sensory ideas; the materialist is a realist in some sense of the term. But the complications between the various schools are not so simple as that. This is owing to differences of interest and should be briefly explained.

The reflective mind, I have said, tends to think of the world as the negative of what sensation seems to reveal. Whether he shall call it spiritual or not depends on his definition of the term "spiritual." If "spiritual" be the negative of sensory and does not imply consciousness, then his world, the physical world, in its essential and non-sensory nature, would be regarded as immaterial in the ancient sense of the term. But if "spiritual" meant a conscious reality, then the negation of sense would not imply this and there would be an immaterial world that is not "spiritual." But the confusion incident to the use of the terms "spiritual" and "immaterial" with their uncertain and equivocal meaning is too great to attempt to wholly unravel it here. Suffice it to say that we may clear up the question in another way. I have here appealed to the terms merely to suggest, without developing, the relation of the problem to ancient points of view.

To return to the difference between the reflective

and the unreflective mind. The unreflective mind, as remarked, thinks of external reality as correctly represented in sensation. It would be wholly materialistic but for other influences to interest it in something immaterial. This interest induces it almost always to believe in a spiritual world which it has in some way to distinguish from the material world. Hence it thinks of it as non-physical and physically non-sensory, but as like the sensory world in appearances and forms. Such a mind does not try to conceive it as constituted like internal consciousness. It duplicates the physical world in its conceptual appearance and forms but not in its substance. Hence the tendency to construe all phenomena purporting to be evidence of such a world as acceptable, if acceptable at all, at their face value. The "spiritual" world to him is like the physical world, except that it is not really physical. He negatives sensation, but only partly so in his conception of the "spiritual" world. He does not think of it as a stream of inner mental states and emotions without body or form. He thinks of it as repeating the physical forms of existence without physical substance.

On the other hand the reflective mind takes a different course. He has to perform a double act of abstraction to determine his views. He has one for determining the supersensible nature of the physical world of sense and one for the nature of spirit. He does not accept sensation as the measure of existence and so thinks away from it to determine what the real nature of reality is. But he does not necessarily substitute consciousness for it. He makes matter in its real nature supersensible, as in the atoms and all realities that do not affect the senses in any direct way. For him the "spiritual" would have to be something that had non-sensory states of consciousness, whether here or hereafter. When he supposes a "spiritual" world hereafter, he means a world of souls that can think