LIBRARY Michigan Sm 1 University This is to certify that the thesis entitled Life and Work of Theodore Flournoy, 1851}- 1 920 . presented by Ronald E. Goldsmith has been accepted towards fulfillment of the requirements for P . . . H' h D degree 1n Istory Zed P flfig Date November 8, 1978 0.7639 OVERDUE FINES ARE 25¢ PER DAY PER ITEM Return to book drop to remove this checkout from your record. l- - t AMI!“ ' ® Copyright by RONALD EARL GOLDSMITH 1979 THE LIFE AND WORK OF THEODORE FLOURNOY, 1854-1920 By Ronald Earl Goldsmith A DISSERTATION Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY Department of History 1979 ABSTRACT THE LIFE AND WORK OF THEODORE FLOURNOY, 1854—1920 By Ronald Earl Goldsmith Tiris dissertation is a biography of the Swiss psychologist, Theodore Flournoy. Its purpose is to describe and analyse both the life and the work of this man within the context of his times. It should serve as an introduc- tion tr) the history of the early decades of the development of modern psychology as a science. 'Theodore Flournoy was born in 1854 into a well-to-do family'cxf the Genevan aristocracy. A precocious, intelligent boy, Flournoy did well in school despite his aversion to the routine methods of nineteenth-century education. In 1871 he entered the University of Geneva where he performed well in both the humanities and the natural sciences. The most important influence on him at this time was the scientist Carl Vogt, a determined materialist. Flournoy himself was strongly attracted to the sciences, but he retained a stead- fastly Christian faith. He felt that religious belief should never prevent a man from being a good scientist. Setting his goal to be a thorough schooling in the sciences of man, Flournoy chose to pursue a medical degree. To this end he chose to go to the University of Strasbourg Ronald Earl Goldsmith to 5tUdy with Friedrich von Recklinghausen. After success- flfllY Completing his M.D. degree in 1878, he turned to the stUdY 0f philosophy and spent two years at the University of Leipzig where he encountered Wilhelm Wundt; and there he began to study the new science of experimental psychology in Wundt's laboratory. On his return to Geneva in 1880 FlourTuJy'Inarried and became a privat-docent at the university, teachjjig «courses in experimental psychology, the history and philosophy of science, and in Kantian philosophy. This latter was esrnecially important because Kant became Flournoy's chief pfliilosophical influence. In 1890 Flournoy became a professor at the University of Geneva, the first psychology professor in Europe who was a member of the faculty of science and.not the faculty of letters. He also founded a laboratory for experimental psychology. The early 1890's saw the appearance of his first publications. These dealt with reaction time and synaesthesia. In 1894 Flournoy began a six-year long study of a trance medium which resulted in 1900 in the publication of his most important book, From India to the Planet Mars, an international best seller. In this book, Flournoy described the psychopathological mechanism of this unusual phenomenon, and his work is considered a classic of dynamic psychiatry. He followed his success with a series of papers on topics connected with Spiritism, establishing himself as one of the world's leading authorities on the psychopathology of spiritist practices. In 1901 Flournoy and his student and Ronald Earl Goldsmith co-worker, Edouard ClaparEde, founded the Archives de psychologie, an important psychological journal which con- tinues to be published and, since 1940, has been edited by Jean Piaget. In 1909 Flournoy presided over the Sixth International Congress of Psychology, the last such meeting of its era and one of the most important of the psychological congresses. Flournoy was a close friend to the American philoso- pher, William James, for twenty years until the latter's death in 1910. He was a diligent supporter of James's psychology and of his philosophical ideas, helping to see that James was well known in Europe. Flournoy became interested in Freudian psychology and helped to gain a wide and fair hearing for these ideas as well. He became a close friend and mentor to Carl G. Jung, aiding him in many ways, especially when Jung was breaking off from his association with Freud. Flournoy's active career ended in 1915 with the onset of serious illness. He died in 1920 much mourned by his Genevan colleagues who found in him both intellectual stimu- lation of the first order and the personification of the ideals of Christian love, scientific rectitude, and liberal tolerance, ideals which guided Flournoy throughout his life. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I wish to express appreciation to the members of my guidance’committee: Dr. Paul Duggan, dissertation director; Dr. Donald Lammers; Dr. Peter Vinten-Johansen; and Dr. Richard Sullivan. I would like to thank the staffs of the Libraries of Michigan State University and of New Mexico State University for their invaluable help in locating and procuring documents. I would especially like to thank the staffs of the Inter- library Loan Offices of these Libraries. I would also like to express gratitude to my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Roy M. Goldsmith, for their continued interest in my academic career. To my wife, Dr. Elizabeth B. Goldsmith, I express my sincere thanks for her continued support and encouragement. iii Introduction . Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Bibliography . TABLE OF CONTENTS Youth and Study . Graduate Study Abroad . Leipzig and Wundt The Philosophical Interregnum: 1880-1890 . . The Professorship and the Founding of the Laboratory: 1890-1896 . . . . . . Early Psychological Work and the Friendship with James: 1890-1896 From India to the Planet Mars: 1896-1900 Success and Its Aftermath: 1900-1905 Religious Psychology and the Geneva Congress: 1905-1910 James, Freud, and Jung: 1910-1915 The Final Years: 1915-1920 iv 3-24 25-49 50-79 80-121 122-152 153-193 194-235 236-281 282-325 326-385 386-405 406-429 INTRODUCTION This work is a study of the life and work of Theodore Flournoy (1854—1920), a member of the first genera- tion of modern psychologists. He is remembered today, if at all, for being the founder of psychology as a science in French-speaking Switzerland, but he was also involved in the early years of the psychoanalytic movement and was a close friend and mentor to Carl Jung. This study aims at presenting an accurate, balanced account of Flournoy as a man and as a scientist. We will see that by focusing on his individual experience we will not only learn about the history of psychology in Switzerland, but also gain insight into the development of psychology as a modern science. In addition, by virtue of Flournoy's dual role as psychologist and as psychopathologist, we will also explore the relationship of Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud as Flournoy was related to it. When this topic is presented, I vfill offer an explanation of the Jung-Flournoy-Freud relationship containing significant differences from the one current today. The limitations of this study will nOt be glossed oven. Flournoy left no autobiographical accounts and not Immh information is available to the American researcher on 2 his early life. Nevertheless, the existing accounts of his life show a remarkable consensus about certain central matters so that we can feel secure in making our judgements. We will follow as closely as possible a chronological narrative. Using the facts available, we will discuss Flournoy's accom- plishments, his ideas, and his interactions with contempor- aries. It is hoped that this material will provide a biographical and intellectual portrait of the psychologist. CHAPTER I YOUTH AND STUDY The history of psychology is one of the newest fields of historical study. Only recently have there appeared major biographical studies of some of the first psychologists. These include well-received works on Alfred Binet, G. S. Hall, and G. T. Ladd.l The present work is a life of one of the lesser known founders of psychology as a modern science: Theodore Flournoy. In this first chapter we will survey his youth and early education and will see that several of the factors which characterized his later life and work appeared during these early years. Theodore Flournoy was born in Geneva on August 15, 1854. He was descended from two of the most outstanding families of his city. The Flournoy (or Flournois) family was originally from the Champagne region of France, probably taking their name from the small village of Flornoy. They lumame Protestant in the fifteenth century and, in order to lTheta H. Wolf, Alfred Binet (Chicago: The University 0f(flficago Press, 1973); Dorothy Ross, G; Stanley Hall: “The 1% cholo ist as Pro het (Chicago: The UhiverSity ofChicagb' Ire5§, I§7Zl;_Eugene 5. Mills, Geor e Trumbull'Ladd: Pioneer anacan Psychologist (Cleveland: The Press of case Western eserve niversity, I969). 4 avoid religious persecution, moved to Geneva in 1600. They subsequently became part of the city's aristocracy which con- sisted of "autochthonous" families (those established in the city before the Reformation) and of families of French and Italian origin who fled to Geneva seeking refuge from perse- cution.1 The background of Theodore Flournoy's mother's family, the Claparedes, was nearly the same. Fleeing France after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685 ended Protestant freedoms, the Claparedes came to Geneva and settled. For centuries the "haute bourgeoisie” or aristocracy of which these two families formed a part, provided Geneva with its political, social, economic, and intellectual leaders. "It was a curious aristocracy," says J. Christopher Herold, "for it drew its prestige from its spiritual achievements as much as from its business acumen."2 Several members of both families appeared in the city's rolls in their capacities as pastors, notaries, members of the "Conseils," theologians, professors at the Academy, historians, jewellers, lawyers, and scientists. There was a tradition of freedom within this social class which saw to it that individuals could pursue any line of endeavor they wished, regardless of practical results; the scientist was as well respected as the man of ‘Mufiness. This fact was important to Theodore Flournoy when it came time for him to choose a career, as we shall see in a 1Andre-E. Sayous, "La Haute Bourgeoisie de Geneve," mgstorique, Vol. 180 (July, 1937), p. 31. 2J. ChristOpher Herold, The Swiss Without HalOs Omw York: Columbia University Press, 19487, p. 83. 5 later chapter. As a scientist, Theodore Flournoy not only brought fame and prestige to his family, but he also joined an elite group of his fellow citizens who caused science, rather than theology, "to make so many Genevese names famous and respected from the eighteenth century to the present. Secluded in their stern-faced houses in the Upper Town or rambling through the countryside in search of geological specimens, fossils, or butterflies, working quietly, unobtru- sively, and conscientiously, the De Saussures, the Claparedes, the Candolles, the Piagets, the Flournoys, the Diodatis, the Sismondis, the Bonnets, and countless others gained for them- selves a peculiar type of anonymous international fame."1 Unfortunately, Theodore Flournoy left us not a single autobiographical account of himself, so that our information about his early years depends on secondary sources, especially Edouard Claparede's monographic study written after Flournoy's death and published in the ArchiVes d3 psychologie as a memorial to the journal's co-founder.2 In addition several obituaries penned by Flournoy's close friends and colleagues add further detail to the story. Although Flournoy's early life, such as we know it, lacks drama or a series of colorful, interesting episodes of adven- ture or travel, it does tell us much about his character and ébes point out two factors which had a great impact on his 11bid., p. 84. 2Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son omwre," Archives de psychologie, Vol. 18 (1921), pp. 1-125. 6 later life: his obviously high intellect and his interest in natural science. Theodore Flournoy's father, Alexander Flournoy (1818- 1890), was a stockbrocker of precise and meticulous tempera- ment who was also an enthusiastic musician. Theodore, to his own regret, inherited not a bit of his father's musical ability. Caroline Claparede, Theodore's mother, was a deli- cate and neurOpathic woman. They were married on September 16, 1853. By all accounts, Theodore Flournoy's childhood was quite ordinary for a boy born into the social and economic elite of his city; both of his families (Flournoy and ClaparEde) were definitely "well-to-do" and "upper class."1 He seems to have had only one sibling, a brother, Edmond, about whom there is no available information. The future psychologist Spent his youth in the environs of Geneva among his many relatives and friends. His family often traveled to Italy when he was a boy, and he always retained a fondness for the warm, sunny Mediterranean climate. The young Theodore Flournoy was an alert and vigorous boy With a touch of mischievousness about him. He was sometimes bad-tempered, but was usually timid and avoided social events. Paul Seippel, one of his oldest friends, remembered that in his youth, Theodore "was inclined to mockery. He retained a gift for irony which was exercised with a preference for the 1978 1Robert C. LeClair, personal communication, May 10, 7 . l verbose, snobs, and sectarians." Edouard Claparede tells us that his "angry and mocking" disposition, evident for the first ten to twelve years of his life, was greatly meliorated through an effort of will and was supplemented later by more pleasant characteristics.2 The mature Theodore Flournoy was noted for his many positive qualities, such as honesty, good humor, and affability. He was, however, also said to have been a remarkable and often formitable polemicist. This latter trait he shared with his scientist uncle, Rene Edouard Claparede, who died in 1871 when Theodore was seventeen.3 Rene Claparéde's nephew retained a strong impression of him and shared his scientific curiosity, his receptivity to new ideas, and his independence with regard to political, social, and scientific judgements. The formidable figure of the uncle served to reinforce Theodore Flournoy's inclination for natural science as it did for his other distinguised nephew, Edouard Claparéde. Like his eminent uncle, Theodore possessed a strong spiritual inclination in his personality, which led him to become a devout Christian and which became more 1Paul Seippel, "La Personalite de Theodore Flournoy," Revue d3 Theologie 33 d3 PhilosOphie, Vol. 9 (1921), p. 243. 2Edouard Claparéde, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son oeuvre," p. 3. 3For good thumbnail sketches of this Claparede, see Charles Borgeaud, Histoire de L'Université de Geneve: IflAcademie et L'UniversiEE Eu KIX SiécIe, AHHeXes eneva: Georg E CieTT 1934), pp. I7T71737'andTHenri de Saussure, 'Tflward Claparede," Annual Re ort of the Smithsonian Institu- tJon, 1971 (Washington, D. .: oVErnment Printing Office, ), pp. 356-359. 8 pronounced as he grew older. Both men were well respected by their colleagues, but while the uncle could be obstinate and caustic, the nephew always remained full of goodwill and charm. It became evident in his early years that Theodore Flournoy possessed a remarkable intelligence. Some letters dating from this period, according to Claparede, give us a glimpse of this aspect of his life: "His grandmother recounts in a letter, written when he was scarcely nine years old, that 'in order to reward Theodore, who had won a medal (at his school) and who is the smartest one in the family,’ she had to take him on a trip in an omnibus to Saint-Julien."1 Other evidence suggests, however, that Theodore was not at all a model student. His continually active and restless intellect could not be kept focused on his proper studies. He felt restrained by the highly structured nature of his schooling. He was interested in many things besides his school lessons, and he devoted his intellectual energies entirely to whatever at the moment was distracting him from his studies. This characteristic persisted throughout Flournoy's life, leading him to research and publish in several areas of psychology as well as to switch his field of interest to subjects outside the scope of academic psychology. He also preserved a dislike for the structured learning of the conventional classroom and lent his support for reform in the area of pedagogy. Yet he excelled in his school work. 1Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son oeuvre," p. 3. 9 The comments of his teachers at the College de Genéve, on the progress of his work are recorded in a weekly notebook called the Libret dg bonnes. On the occasion of his passage into the Latin Sixth Form (1864-65), when Theodore Flournoy was ten, the extracts give some evidence for our assessment of his character and abilities: "'Moments de distractions: bien a d'autres egards.--Causeries fréquentes.--Néglige son écriture.--Pas toujours sage.--Causeries et distractions fréquentes.--Conduite peu satisfaisante, fort distrait.-- Causer avec entétement.--Parfois légereté avec persistance qui ressemble a l'indocilité.--Quand il se distrait, il y met une sorte d'Opiniatreté.'"1 The instructor of the following class described him as "'éleve intelligent, mais distrait et mobile.'" When he passed from the Third to the Fourth Form, his instructor remarked that he desired "'qu'il repassat ce qu'il a oublié plutot que de se préoccuper de choses étrangéres au College.'" Even as early as the First Form he was reproached for his "'mémoire chancelante,' sa distraction, son 'babil,‘ sa 'legerete,' sa 'tenue qui laisse souvent a désirer.'" Nevertheless, his intelligence and enormous power of concentration enabled him, when he did turn his attention to his lessons, to garner many of the school's prizes and appear among the first students, especially in arithmetic and Latin. Theodore's active intellect found outlets for its emergy other than those provided by the regular school lIbid., p. 4. 10 routine. As befitted a schoolboy of nineteenth-century Europe, Flournoy's principle subjects in school were classical languages. Henry James, the novelist, was a student in Geneva during the years 1859-1860. In a letter to his friend Thomas Sergent Perry, James explained that most of his schoolmates knew their classics. "They have most of them a pretty good knowledge of the classics though as in the schools here, where boys go till they are about fifteen and 1 But here as sixteen, those are the principal studies." later on in college Flournoy suffered from the constraint of contemporary scholastic or pedagogic methods with their emphasis on the formalized rote learning of preselected facts. When he was thirteen and a half he published a small auto- biographical journal, of which he was the principal editor, called L'Essai, "'journal d'exercises littéraires, rédigé par des Collégiens.”2 A portion of this youthful production, dating from 1868, when Theodore was fourteen, was published in 1909 as part of L3 £1132 du College, a memorial volume for the Collége de Genéve. In it Theodore gives us some insight into the life of a Genevian schoolboy of the mid-nineteenth century: A Festival for the Regent At College, we had the habit of holding, every year, the festival for the regents (at least for 1Henry James, Letters, ed. by Leon Edel (Cambridge, Nbss.: Harvard Univer51ty Press, 1974), Vol. 1, p. 12. 2Edouard Claparéde, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son oeuvre," p. 4w 11 those whom we liked). This ordinarially took place in the months of May or June. When the students collect enough money they buy a present, then the day is chosen to offer it, usually a Wednesday or a Saturday with the disinterested aim of not having any homework for the morrow. On the chosen day, the students arrive early, accompanied by a gardener, [accompagnes d'un jardinier] and a large bouquet of flowers, boughes, and oranges is arranged on the lectern. When the fourth bell sounds, all the students, grouped around the door, do not let there be any doubt as to the teacher on whom they are waiting; the teacher, in order to give them time to get ready, gives the key to the classroom to one of the boys. This one enters, and in a moment the teacher enters, and assumes the air of being astonished. The silence is maintained, but the teacher regains his composure, stands up to the lectern, and addresses the students with a speech. Then he proceeds to unwrap the gifts. He expresses his surprise and the students express their joy, in the course of which they cry out, jump around, and throw themselves about. When this demonstra- tion is ended, it is usual for the teacher to haVe the packages sent to his home and he asks which students are disposed to do this. Immediately the crys and demonstrations start up again. All the students throw themselves at the teacher, beseiging him, and overwhelming him with crys of 'me, me!‘ He sends those who make the biggest show. They leave, and while they are gone, he tells stories to those who remain. Sometimes a boy trys to compose a speech, but he never dares to give it; then the students denounce him to the teacher who then asks him for it and in fact reads it himself. The day ended, the teacher promises also at some time a festival for his students, and they fix the day for it which is awaited with a lively impatience. I was once at one of these festivals when Bossey was chosen as the goal of the excursion. We passed by Veyrier and arrived at the tavern of the Hospital. Once we had arrived there ensued sports, assaults on the cherry trees in the field, gymnas- tic games, races, for which the teacher had pre- pared prizes. All this was crowned by a magnifi- cent tea served under the trees during which there was exhibited a great deal of spirit, but in which the toasts were replaced by jests and jibes of all sorts. After this, the signal to return was given, but it did not take place without some misadven- tures. Some boys, tired, wanting to cut it short, cut across fields and became stuck in the bogs. 12 Others had the good fortune to meet with vehicles which gave them rides. The bravest went singing along the road. Finally the singers, the laggards, the stragglers, all reached town safely, where each one took his leave with many thanks for the teacher, who had arranged for us such a happy celebration which the entire class would always remember. Theodore's lifelong interest in science made its appearance early, when he was still a boy. Like many nineteenth-century youths, he made a patient and meticulous collection of seashells. Later, he constructed at his grand- father's house at Champel, in an abandoned orangery, a small laboratory for chemical and physical experiments which greatly impressed his friends. It was there, wrote one of his friends, "that he carried out, before two or three of us, his first chemical and physical experiments, those which our old professor of natural science had always promised to do for us without ever actually doing them. I can still see the beautiful silvering of his first Leyden jar. Already he had accustomed us to the example of his personnal work."2 And Edouard Claparede himself contributes this anecdote from this period of Flournoy's life: "I myself remember the electric telegraph--what a novelty it was then!--which he had con- structed and which permitted communication between the orangery and our house. I can still hear the small, dry clicks and unequal rhythms of the electro-magnet, and since 1Theodore Flournoy, "Une fete de Regent," Le Livre du gfigg, $3091)” Philgggezlggnnier (Geneva: Libraif'i'eT— — : : PP- - zHenry Berguer, "Theodore Flournoy. (1854-1920)," Semaine Religieuse, (Geneva), November 20, 1920, p. 190. 13 they occurred without any apparent cause, I was strongly inclined to regard my great cousin Theodore as a curious magician."1 Claparede goes on to say that Flournoy appeared always to be plagued by the tension of two strong but contrary i emotions: his innate pronounced timidity, which caused him to avoid most social contact and prefer the complete solitude of his study; and an equally strong desire for social inter- action, which led him to participate in social activities. Thus, while he was elected to a college society, the Polymnia, in 1870, he was not drawn completely into the activities of this group. He always retained his innate independence and critical sense, resisting the suggestions of the other members. Because of his natural authority, sureness of judgement, and forceful personality, testifies ClaparEde, Theodore could have been a leader of any group he joined, had his timidity not held him back.2 This timidity seems to have taken the form of rudeness, as another anecdote shows: Not much fond of our informal lunches, of our informal dances, or of our little celebrations, he nevertheless made some short appearances at them out of a sense of duty. He was in the Polymnia, where his happiness was to break Open y with our regulations and conventions. We excluded him, and a fortnight later, without any apology, he returned through an unsuspected door, to the satisfaction of each one.3 1Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son oeuvre , " p. S. zIbid. 3Henri Berguer, "Theodore Flournoy. (1854-1920)," P. 190. 14 We can see by these accounts that the young Theodore Flournoy's personality was a mixture of diverse elements. On the one hand, he was both intelligent and demanding, and he was a leader. On the other hand, he was shy in social encounters. This contradiction led him to be rude on occasion. Later in life he overcame these violent extremes of behavior to become a superb teacher who used rational persuasion rather than force to impress his listeners. He also came to relish social gatherings, such as professional meetings, where he benefited personally from the one-to-one contact with his colleagues. Theodore entered the University of Geneva in 1871 and became a member of the Société de Zofingue, a combination of German drinking club and student patriotic society, in whose activities he took a relatively active part. The Genevian section of Zofingue, founded in 1823, was a center of liberalism, patriotism, and Swiss pride. William James had been a member of this same organization when he was a student at the Academy in 1859-1860. The members wore a special scarf and cap and attended an annual festival in the spring at a small village called Moudon. From a letter of Henry James written in 1860 we can derive some notion of the sorts of activities in which Theodore Flournoy must have taken part as a member of this brotherhood: Not long since Willie [William James] joined a society of Students the 'Société des Zoffingues' which exists all over Switzerland. A few weeks ago they held one of their annual fétes, and as any member can invite a friend I went to it along 15 with Willie. It took place at the Village of Moudon, about three quarters of a day's journey from Geneva, and 12 miles back of Lausanne. Drinking, smoking big German pipes and singing were the chief elements of the fun. It lasted three days. On the first night there was a grand concert given to the townsfolk by the students at the town hall, the like of which they had probably never seen. The second day there was a splendid banquet to which the mayor and aldermen were invited, and a lot of clergymen also. The latter had nothing of their calling about them but their white neckties for they drank as hard, sung as loud and gave as many toasts and jolly Speeches as the most uproarious student-~medical student, even there. On the same night took place the ceremony of the Landsvater which originated, I think, in the German Universities, but which this society has adopted. I cannot well make you understand what sort of an affair it is. It is a kind of oath of allegiance to their country and of brotherhood among themselves accompanied by a great swilling down of beer, of grasping of hands, of clashing of rapiers, and of glorious deep- mouthed German singing. Half the students were roaming in drunken ardour through the town and through the halls of the inns that night seeking whom they might devour. Willie, a German fellow, and I myself did not get scarcely a wink of sleep till near morning because of the constant attacks upon the door of the bed room which we shared together. The weather was fearful a driving storm of alternate hail and rain all the time. Although Henry James did not much enjoy the adventures of the society, William James did, and Theodore Flournoy, whose ability to get along socially seems to have improved a great deal as he grew older, enjoyed them too. His membership in the Zofingue had a lot to do with this improvement in his character, according to Henry Berguer: "Zofingue was his greatzinitiation into that which is social. Daily life had driexi it up, the life of a Zofingue made it blossom."2 1Henry James, Letters, Vol. 1, pp. 19-20. p 15; 2Henry Berguer, "Theodore Flournoy. (1854-1920)," 0 O . 16 And Claparede tells us that while a member of this student group Flournoy became very close to his colleagues, estab- lishing friendships which lasted a lifetime. The Zofingue, however, was not all social and informal; it had a serious side as well. We know from Carl Jung's testimony that part of the club's energies were devoted to lectures and debates of learned questions.1 Theodore Flournoy most certainly joined in these activities as well. In short, the Zofingue experience was valuable to Flournoy both socially and personally, and he proved to be an amusing, even captivating :uidition to the group, the members of which were taken parti- CLLlarly with his original and impressive mind.2 In 1872, after having received his baccalauréat §§_ letrtres, Flournoy entered the faculty of sciences; and in 18374 he received his baccalauréat §§_sciences mathématiques. Theuse years of university education introduced him to some,of thfi problems which were to occupy his attention for some tinue, and their echos can be heard even in his last profes- sillnal.writings appearing half a century later. The central Problem which Flournoy encountered was also one of the (:eTTtral philosophical problems of his age, the seeming inCompatibility of traditional ethical and religious beliefs ‘Vitfll the world view of modern science. While still an under- graduate Flournoy came to grips with and solved to his own 1 . .. i C. G. Jun Speaklng: InterV1ews and Encounters, gd‘ by Willfam Mcéuire and R. F. C. HuII lPrinceton: Ifiinceton University Press, 1977), pp. 7-8. 2Edouard C1aparéde, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son oeuVre,n p. 6. 17 satisfaction this dilemma which troubled so many of his con- temporaries. While Flournoy was a student in the faculty of sciences at the University of Geneva he had ample opportunity to become acquainted with the new intellectual and scientific ideas that were proving such a trial to traditional Christi- anity because the faculty was permeated by the doctrines of scientific materialism and positivism. The leading figure in science at Geneva at that time was Carl Vogt (1817-1895) one of Flournoy's professors, and one of the few outstanding Inaterialists of the nineteenth century. Vogt was a spokes- nuxn for the view that the reality of the universe could be ftnand in the belief that nothing existed except matter and forxze, that the universe operated according to a strict deter- mjllism which obeyed certain laws discoverable by the human mirui. There was no room in Vogt's universe for religion, GCKi, or freedom of the will. For him the methods of natural SCience could be used to explain all hitherto unanswered qxuestions about man and his universe. From Vogt Flournoy received a thorough schooling in these views. In addition to Vogt Flournoy studied with Elie Francois War'tmann (1817-1886), a physicist, and with Jean Charles Gailissard de Marignac (1817-1894), a specialist in inorganic and physical chemistry.‘2 These men too were sympathetic to the materialist ideas of Vogt, and they thoroughly introduced Histoire de L'Université de Geneve: 11' 1Charles Borgeaud, __ -~£EE§SEEIE,E£ L'Université 22 XIX SiEEle,'Annexes, pp. 2I9-221. 2Ibid., pp. 203-205, 210-219. l8 Flournoy to the Darwinism of Huxley and Haeckel. Claparede tells us that at Geneva the various ideas of these men were adapted and transformed "into a sort of religion of nature."1 This set of beliefs, as graphically hostile to Christianity as it was to metaphysics, pervaded the atmosphere of the faculty of sciences when Flournoy was a student. Carl Vogt was especially hostile to religion, sprinkling his lectures with droll, sarcastic jibes at Christianity. While most of Flournoy's fellow students became enthusiastic if not totally comprehending followers of Vogt zuid his materialistic creed, Flournoy himself refrained from beying caught up in the intellectual excitement engendered by truese ideas. He demonstrated a considerable measure of ccnzrage openly resisting the imperious Vogt. The reason for tfitis was simple. Theodore Flournoy distinguished between the Posrtulates of science and the demands of morality; he dared to ]presume that he could have the greatest admiration for the sCientific researches of the great men of his era while at thfi same time reject the philosophy or the metaphysics which 133’ behind them. For Theodore Flournoy was a Christian; the PI'Otestantism of his refugee forefathers was a living faith tohim which provided him with one of the two main elements (3f 111$ personality. His love of science was coupled with an intensely religious faith. These two principles were not (*Prnased in Flournoy's mind. They co-existed in his life and (3 1Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son euvre, p. 26. 19 largely defined much of his character and behavior. All his life Flournoy left two strong impressions on those who knew him. They were all struck by his dedication both to scienti- fic truth and to Christian morality. Flournoy's oldest friend, J.-El. David, relates this anecdote which helps to illustrate this matter: In 1875, if I am not mistaken, the Zofingues of the Suisse Romande were celebrating their spring festival at Morat. One afternoon, there were about fifty of us squeezed together among the smoke and mugs of beer in a small room of the inn. We were discussing passionately, as one discusses at the age of twenty, ab hac et ab hoc, politics, art, science, and religiBHT'—A1T— ar'e sudden, I no longer remember in response to what, Flournoy, who was seated on the window sill—- I can see him as if it were just yesterday--with a cap on his head and a briar pipe in his hand that he was tamping with his forefinger, stood erect on the bench where he had been resting his feet, climbed up on the table, and said in a firm voice: 'I am a Christian, gentlemen, because Christianity furnishes to humanity the highest and purest morality ....... ' There was a stupified silence. 'I am a Christian!' It was still per- missible for a theology student to proclaim such a shocking remark. But a student of the sciences! For we were all more or less completely infected with the materialism that Karl Vogt aimed at us with the uproar of his clear, mocking disdain. The World as Will and Idea distilled the pessimism in the souT§ of those Who scarcely knew Schopen- hauer by name. Lastly, the most conscientious of us had just read and sharply assimilated The Philosophy_gf_the Unconscious, which was Biposed to the narrow orfhodoxie then reigning, not in the hearts, certainly, but in the social conventions of our bourgeois milieux. And Flournoy, had the dankm;to proclaim himself Christian! Moreover, he put the emphasis not on some traditional dogma, but on the intimate relationship between his conscience and the simple teachings of Christ! If Flournoy, who from College to the University had always applied himself to things other than school lessons and had passed all the examinations with perfect ease, if Flournoy called himself Christian, it must be that there was 'something' 20 in Christianity which was neither what some people mocked nor what gave to others a grim rigidity.1 Not only does this anecdote demonstrate both the intellectual posture assumed by the young Flournoy and the respect with which his peers regarded him, beginning as far back as his university days, it also leads us to see that Flournoy's attitude, even at this early date, was closely akin to the pragmatism which William James, a close friend of Flournoy's from 1890 to 1910, was to develop at the close of the nineteenth century. Although pragmatic philosophy was rust part of the intellectual scene at that time, Flournoy cdlearly demonstrates one aspect of it as it was to be formu- lelted later. When William James did announce the ideas of PIWigmatism, Flournoy became one of its foremost European defenders. In the absence of a convincing set of proofs or a ESingle doctrine which would either vindicate science or religion, or provide an adequate theoretical explanation of tNDtll of them, Flournoy adopted the position that they were (Llsczrete areas of human life, each valid in its own area and notmutually exclusive. If Flournoy was persuaded of the "a]¢idity of science through its proven successes in explana- tiJJn, he was equally persuaded as to the validity of religious feelings because of his own personal, concrete experiences. I. 1J.-El. David, "Theodore Flournoy," Gazette de -§fl£§§nng, November 7, 1920. _— 8 2William James first launched the new pragmatic philo- 1;)th at a lecture given at the University of California in 1Jr5?8: "Philosophical Conceptions and Practical Results," l'Versity of California Chronicle, 1898. 21 We see then that Flournoy solved the problem of the conflict of science and religion for himself by distinguish- ing carefully between these rival modes of thinking and by assigning each to its own discrete realm of competence. For Flournoy, science was the investigation of the natural world, while religion was a matter of individual choice dealing with morals and with meaning, two matters with which science, Flournoy felt, was incapable of treating. This attitude was called his "parallelism" by Flournoy's friends, and we must conclude that it arose basically from the Genevan's personal tenmerament and from his background. It was accompanied by Ifilournoy's emergence as a well-respected member of the stuadent body, both for his intellectual abilities and for hie; faith. One friend of long standing recalled this aspect of? Flournoy's early life: This was the grand era of Carl Vogt. In his beautiful hand-writing, Flournoy used to transcribe on sheets of paper descending from the ceiling to the floor all the degrees in the zoological ladder, from the single-cell creatures to the anthropo- morphous ones and to their little more advanced cousin. And it was he who already used to reassure us concerning the purely physical charac- ter of this likely relationship and used to blunt the edge of Carl Vogt's coarse jibes concerning Noah's ark and Jonah's fish. It was then also that there appeared this parallelism, so characteristic of his intellec- tual influence and of his moral influence. His study at the University became the meeting place of a host of students. The most diverse mentali- ties found themselves there and confronted each other. One could be neither more solemn nor more gay than we were in that place. All philosophies had their apologists and their detractors. But the atmosphere of this chamber was sane and comforting. 22 Friendships were formed there which have remained firm for half a century and even to death. Under Flournoy's influence, the conversations of the students in his study were raised from the level of ordinary student gossip and directed toward the highest level of con- cern: philosophy and religion. And when tempers grew hot, when passion replaced reason in the discussion, Flournoy's was always the voice of calm moderation and good sense: Once, when the conversation was directed toward those litigious questions [i.e., philosophy and religion], Flournoy kept quiet, observing the incompetencies which were being wrangled about in the arguments, as one in advance of his age. He allowed the battle to be fought, affirmations colliding with negations. Then, suddenly, we heard his voice raised clearly and calmly. He had just popped the soap bubble. A topical example, as he knew how to choose them, put to an end the inanity of the reasonings which had been colliding.2 Although he was devoted to the study of science, Flcnarnoy feared that, by specializing in one area too early in~1h.is career, he would become stuck in a rigid framework. 1113 “urge to range widely over the intellectual terrain w’her‘ever his many interests led him, took hold at this point, so 'that, after he had finished his degree in mathematics in 13'74, he entered the Faculté de Théologie and began the study 013 Hebrew. He had no intention of becoming a minister, but Vvas; seeking this knowledge for another reason. In the c313inion of his friend, J.-El. David, "'by entering into the 1Henry Berguer, "Theodore Flournoy. (1854-1920)," p- 190. (:1 \ZThe reminiscence is that of J.-El. David. See Edouard Eaparede, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son oeuvre, " p. 8. 23 study of theology, Theodore was seeing if religious instruc- tion, if religious doctrine, if religious history or the history of religions could furnish him proof of the existence of God.'"1 But, at the end of one semester's work, Theodore Flournoy found that the study of theology contained "'trop de '"2 David reports that, one day he met Flournoy chinoiseries. and, believing him still to be studying theology, was surprized to find him immersed in the complications of the tables of zoological classification. "'1 am preparing for Iny bachot gs sciences,‘ said Flournoy, 'I have dropped 3 tflieology; I do not want to become an unbeliever!'" This tflieological interlude, however, was not a waste of time for the; Genevan; by putting him into contact with new ways of jtuiging and thinking, it profited him later on. Also, his eleosure to theological study led him to wish frequently that a Clomplete reform of theology studies could be effected. As David's statement testifies, Flournoy abandoned theology after his one semester in order to return to the Scfiiences and in three months completed his baccalauréat Es §£fi£§nces physiques gt naturelles in 1875. "'Ascertaining tiuit the external proof of God's existence did not exist, he t’u‘I‘ned to the study of the sciences which have man for their F 1J.-El. David quoted by Edouard Claparéde, "Theodore 1Cn1rnoy. Sa vie et son oeuvre," p. 8. 2Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son oeuVre,"p.8. F1 3J.-E1. David quoted by Edouard Claparede, ”Theodore oulTunn Sa vie et son oeuvre," p. 8. 24 1 object, beginning with the knowledge of physical man.'” His two baccalaurets, which constituted "la maitrise es arts,"2 in hand, Flournoy left Geneva for foreign universities in order to pursue advanced studies. In his early years Theodore Flournoy successfully completed his university education and, by confronting the central problem of the conflict between religion and science, established both a reputation among his colleagues and a personal outlook, his parallelism, which was to characterize his intellectual life. He had continued his interest in sc:ience and was now, in 1876, at the age of twenty-two, seatting out for advanced study in science in foreign univer- Sisties. His search for enlightenment was inspired by a l3eldsonal quest, the desire, albeit vague, to learn more about tbs? human person, and his economic and social position enabled him to follow through with this desire. lIbid. 2Henry Berguer, "Theodore Flournoy. (1854-1920)," p. 190. CHAPTER I I GRADUATE STUDY ABROAD His undergraduate studies behind him, Theodore Flournoy now set out for Germany to continue his education by attending graduate school. His chosen area was physical man, and to this end he took up medical study at the University of Freiburg in 1876. Flournoy was setting out to become a natural scientist. He had some study in this field at the undergraduate level at the University of Geneva, from 1871 to 1875, with Carl Vogt, Elie Francois Wartmann, and Jean Charles Galissard de Marignac. Through their efforts he had been introduced to the study of zoology, biology, physics, and natural science. In addition, he had received some instruc- tion in mathematics. His brief flirtation with formal theology had served to direct him toward the higher levels of SClience, and he was now going about learning it in one of the "1081: common ways the nineteenth century had to offer: the Study of medicine. In doing this he followed in the foot- Steps of many prominent nineteenth- and twentieth-century SCientific and even philosophical figures: Huxley, Agassiz, L0tze, Helmholtz, Wundt, James, Jung, Freud, and others. 25 26 A number of reasons can be adduced for this close relationship between scientific study and medical education. From the standpoint of curriculum, the natural sciences, as they developed in the nineteenth century, were closely inter- connected with the scientific study of medicine as it was being created in the universities. Many great scientists worked in both areas: biological science and its application to medical problems. A student who wished to learn about histology, organic chemistry, pathology, or any of the other .newly developing biological sciences took many of the same cnaurses as those who wished to become practicing physicians. Another reason for the close connection between Ineriical education and the study of science in the nineteenth Cealtury was that those individuals who wished a career in SCJience, but who were too poor to be able to afford the risks of’ a scientific career, went into medicine as a compromise Sc’Ilution; they could study science to some extent and support t’hemselves as well. Robert Koch in Germany and John William DIWiper in America are examples of this as they each made Sclientific discoveries independently of their careers as pr‘acticing physicians. There were simply not enough ways for a'man trained in a specific science to live, outside of Sefiruring a position in a university. Moreover, in Europe at lefiist, there were only a limited number of professorships aVEiilable in the natural sciences and these few positions ‘VeIWB filled by the middle of the nineteenth century by rela- tivfily young men, so that the possibility of a holder of a 27 new doctorate in one of these sciences procurring a professor- ship was very slim, to say the least. The alternative was to become a privat-docent, or unpaid lecturer; but the large number of these poorly renumerated positions also contributed to the shortage of professorships. According to Fritz Ringer, "the academic pyramid tapered very sharply at the top. There were not enough higher positions to permit a reasonable schedule of advancement for the lower ranking members of the l . . . . . The few academ1c p051t10ns v15-a-v1s the number faculty." of potential scientists, the low rates of pay for the various zissistant positions, all culminated in situations in which tflle bright, scientifically inclined young men of the era had fevv choices. It is no wonder that several of the intellec- ttu11.figures had their M.D. degrees. Of course, if one hap‘pened to be independently wealthy, or was willing to risk tbs? possibility of long years of hard work with little pay as an_ assistant, the academic career could be attempted. In the Cafise of Theodore Flournoy, there was also the example to follow of his eminent uncle, René Edouard Claparede, who had be’Come a physician and then a natural scientist. Neverthe- lefss, Flournoy possessed the social position and economic Secnarity which obviated the need to earn his living as a dCNltor, so he undertook to pursue a career in science, T 1Fritz K. Ringer, The Decline of the German Mandarins: ETFE German Academic Community, 1890—1933 (Cambridge, Massa- 'isetms: Harvard University Press, 1969), p. 54. 28 beginning with a medical degree, without ever having any intention of actually practicing medicine. Moreover, this career choice was even sanctioned by social custom in Geneva. In the typical patrician family of which the Flournoys were an example, it had been common for some members of the family to devote themselves to business while others were left to pursue careers of study and investigation with little concern for practical matters. For hundreds of years the Flournoy family, like other patrician Genevan families, had supplied the city with pastors, men of letters, and professors, so 111eodore's choice of career was an honorable one in no way Lurusual for a man of his social standing in the community. Akrt only had his famous uncle been a professor but his cousin, deruard Claparéde, was to become a psychologist, as was his only son, Henri Flournoy (1886-1955). It might well be asked, now that we have some notion as to why Theodore chose medicine as his graduate study, why a French-speaking Swiss went to German universities and not to iParis for his medical and scientific training? Wouldn't it liave made more sense for him to go to graduate school Sofiuewhere in France? The question is: Why Germany? " 1Two sources testify to this fact: Edouard Claparéde, BinleCMOre Flournoy: Sa vie et son oeuvre," p. 9; Henry eI‘guer, pp. cit., p. 190. 2J. Christopher Herold, The Swiss Without Halos, p. 83. w 3The School of Medicine at the University of Geneva 'tas llot Opened until October, 1876 and thus could not hope ‘3 Ccnnpete immediately with the German universities for the bes t students . ——— 29 The answer to this question is simple: given the state of scientific research and of scientific and medical education in Europe in the second half of the nineteenth century, Flournoy really had no choice in this matter. From about 1850 on, "foreign students who had hitherto been attracted by the Parisian school turned to the German univer- sities that were providing a much more developed physical, chemical, and microbiological training." Germany was where the important advances were being made in these fields; Germany unquestionably possessed the finest scientific educa- txional institutions in the world at that time, and students frwnn all over the world were flocking to the German universi- tixes to take advantage of the excellent training being (Ififered there.2 For a bright and ambitious young man like Flournoy, hoping to follow a career in science, although one ncrt clearly delineated at this time, there was nowhere else to go but Germany. The question to be asked next is how Germany gained St"throminence in the area of biological and medical science. The emergence of the German universities in the nineteenth Ce>htury into great centers of scientific research and ed-ucation is a complex matter and no simple answer is F lCharles Coury, "The Teaching of Medicine in France ITND the Beginning of the Seventeenth Century," The History 8.1: Medical Education, ed. by C. D. O'Malley (Berk—fey: n1errsity of CaIifornia Press, 1970),p . 159. .A 2See Dorothy Ross, G. Stanley Hall: The Psychologist 5 Prophet p. 81. 30 forthcoming, but some excellent suggestions have been made and bear telling, as they relate to Flournoy's story. During the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, France was the leading country in Europe in the area of science. Men such as Cuvier, Buffon, and Lavoisier made 1?rance the center of scientific research through the Nérpoleonic period. This French science spread to Germany in tllerfOrm of texts and ideas, and many German scientists gained their training in France. There grew up in the early deeczades of the nineteenth century a body of German scientists, w11c>se efforts in the laboratories were to put German science 011 the map, so to speak, and contributed to the "widespread (36311nan view that the educational system established after the expulsion of Napoleon had been the chief instrument of l'lal-tiional regeneration."1 During the eighteenth century Sciience became an important part of the German university CurI‘icula; but in contrast to France and England, where Science was generally thought of as mathematic studies or exact science, in Germany science came to mean not only this, but also the application of scientific methods, empirical obServation, experimentation, as well as mathematical ahalysis, to all aspects of life. As Murphy so well explains it:, there was a different attitude in Germany toward science alki its goal, than there was in France or in Britain: We may say, to put it negatively, that the reason why the French and the British had given biology and the cultural sciences a secondary 1Ibid., p. 106. 31 place was their preference for quantitative analy- sis. They could approach physics and chemistry with mathematical methods; they could not under- stand that the biological and cultural sciences could be experimentally or mathematically approached. While the British and the French thought the physical sciences alone capable of being genuinely scientific, the Germans thought every field of knowledge coqu—be equally scienti- fic. Even t5? analysis of the kfiowing process ifself (as Kant undertook to show) could become a systematic discipline. The application of criti- cal methods to such a variety of subjects, and the interdependence of all these, brought it about that the German university teacher and student had but little of the departmental turn of thought which inevitably influenced the French teacher and student. The German faculty of philosophy served as a means of attaining a broad view of civiliza- tion as a whole. The German university was an engine with which to create a unified knowledge of the world.1 (Italics mine.) TrlissGerman attitude resulted not only in such diverse pro- dlzcrts as Alexander Baumgarten's "science of aesthetics," Kant's critical approach to the process of cognition, and Hegel's dialectic as a scientific approach to logic,2 but 3515(3 in Justus Liebig and Friedrich Wohler's creation or Organic chemistry and in Johannes Miiller's application of the experimental method to physiology. Biology, that is, the scientific study of living things, became one of the chief glories of German scientific researchinthe nineteenth century; it was an area in which Germany far outstripped France and Britain. There had been in both Britain and France a con- siderable skepticism about the possibility of 1p 1Gardner Murphy, Historical Introduction to Modern 3 ‘tholo (Rev. ed.; New York: 'Harcourt, Brace—5nd ComD‘B‘i'any, 949), p. 74. 2Ibid., p. 73. ¥ 32 building up a scientific technique for the study of living things. But in the German university the phenomena of life were subjected to the same critical treatment and seen in the same perspec- tive as was required in any other specialty. The study of life must be undertaken from a unified philosophical world-view. And because of the extensive interchange of personnel and irieas among the many German universities, the ideal of the urlified understanding of the world was uniformly spread and maintained throughout the German university system.2 This incrtivating ideal of the unity of all human knowledge put a great deal of stress on the problems of living things in the world, an emphasis derived at least in part from the iriffluence of the Romantic movement with its emphasis on 3 And this ideal was not limited to the univer- 1iving things. SBit:ies. The biological researches of Goethe are a good eXample of how this ideal was pursued by a poet and philo- sopher not associated with a university. Nevertheless, it wa-Si‘within the university matrix that modern biological Science was developed and important research and teaching ‘VeIWB carried on. The net result of this movement, of the individual achievements of'a host of researchers dedicated to alnplying the scientific method to the study of living things, ““13 to make Germany the center of scientific research and lnstruction in the latter half of the nineteenth century. As Nhlrphy says, Germany held, "by the middle of the century, a 1Ibid., p. 74. 2Ibid. 3Ibid., p. 75. 33 position of leadership in biological science, which, as we have seen, was due very largely to a certain background of intellectual history that differentiated its specific prob- lems from those of France and Britain."1 A slightly different explanation for this phenomenon is offered by Boring and by Schultz, who follows Boring in tllis matter.2 According to them, Germany became the leader irl nineteenth-century biological science because the German 'tennperament, more than the French or British, was amenable t<> the rigors of taxonomic description and scientific jplieenomenology, that is, "the description of immediate experi- erlcze, with as little scientific bias as possible."3 [\cxzording to this argument, the phenomological approach con- tlrwists with the mathematical or deductive approach, and since 't1163 latter was characteristic of France and Britain, and delce it is less suitable to the study of biology than the fOrrner, the Germans became the leaders in the biological sciences. Thus, German preeminence in the biological S‘Viences was due to the German penchant for "the careful Collection of observational fact, that was sound, keen-sighted 8‘5 to detail, conscientious and thorough, but not as a rule brjSlliant, and seldom concerned with large generalizations. llbid, p. 77. 2 . . ..., Duane P. Schultz A Hlstor of Modern Psychology (nqu'York: Academic Press: Inc., I973), p. 31. (2 3Edwin G. Boring, A Histor of Ex erimental Psychology 1N1 ed.; New York: Appleton- entury- ro ts, , p. 18. 34 The description of phenomenal experience is too basic readily to yield the large inductions.”1 Another account of the rise of the Germans to promi- nence in the biological sciences, at least as important to my Inind as the theories of Murphy and Boring, lies in one aspect (If the institutional development of the German centers of leearning. This account of the development of German biologi- czil sciences is proposed by Donald Fleming, and it deals with t11€3 institutionalization of scientific creativity. One of tries finest achievements of nineteenth-century European civilization was the growth of a creative tradition £1 science. The foundation of university laboratories and insti- tht:es in which scientists worked and taught younger men to Cérrry on their work was of inestimable importance to the grOWth of modern science. More than anybody else in the nine- teenth century, Germany institutionalized scientific creati— VTit)V. Their scientists created a working apparatus consisting oftheir students, and then their students' students, which eruibled the important work of science to be handed from one generation to another without interruption as the "succession 013.genius was prolonged.”2 A working relationship of teaChers and students was established which led to a tradi- tzicul of great discoveries, meaning that fruitful activity in asPecific area would continue even after the death of an 1Ibid., p. 19. hi ZDonald Fleming, William H. Welch and the Rise of TB£E¥;52._E§12122,(Boston: ElttIe, Brown and Company, 1954), 35 individual scientist. This phenomenon was most widely spread in Germany where it undoubtedly contributed to the preeminence of Germany in the fields of biological science and medicine. Nevertheless, it is not so much Germany's leadership in these areas that seizes one's attention, but it is the glaring failure of England and France to follow this example that must be explained. After all, brilliant discoveries were made in these two countries during this period. Sir Charles Bell's discovery of the differentiation of sensory and motor nerves is a good example of a British contribution of the first rank. But the British and French do not estab- lish a continuous stream of similar discoveries. Donald Fleming argues that basically it was due to the political and Social differences among the three countries that accounts for Germany's unique position. "Science," he says, "as a dOHIain of politics, an area for the exercise of power, found its place within the structure of politics at large."1 In England, there was the maximum amount of freedom fer the scientist, both from political control and societal regulation. With the exception of some regulation by Parliament of vivisection, no agencies of the government hindered the work of the scientist. This freedom from g0Vernmental regulation was mirrored by freedom in English soCiety at large. This freedom partly took the form of an abSSnce of administrative and bureaucratic centralization in t}“3 educational system. "But science in England tended, more 1Ibid., p. 35. 36 than elsewhere, to be the concern of an anarchic community of brilliant amateurs and private men, lacking in articulation and cohesion."1 In the second half of the nineteenth century, France experienced periods of relative freedom, although the country lacked the political and social stability that was the hall- mark of England. Moreover, throughout all the changes which took place in France in this period, the country was under the continual domination of the bureaucratic and political administration of Paris. That city exercised a control and influence on France unparalleled in any other European country. This was as true in the educational system of France as it was in other bureaucratic institutions. An enemy some- where in power in Paris could block the rise of a scientist to his proper place in the establishment; and the presence of a friend could promote the rise of an unworthy candidate. Paris was the center of the nervous system of French educa- tion. "As part of the process," say Fleming, "by which Paris SuCtked France dry, the provincial universities were deprived of all local initiative and deliberately subordinated to the Sc31‘bonne and the College de France. In science, as else- Where, the faculties of the provincial universities were divided between apathetic men of the second rank who could not hOpe for Paris or for dignity and prestige anywhere else and driving men of the first rank who were fighting their 1Ibid. 37 way toward Paris."1 In building important, successful, and influential centers of scientific research it is not enough to have men of genius; these men must do their work within the framework of a suitable institutional system which pro- 1notes and supports their work. The French and the British liad the men, but they lacked institutions of the same quality. The Germans had, as the French and the British had nr)t, developed a system (or an art) for creating a multitude (3i? able, patient investigators who were content not to reach t11<3 heights of their field, but to do only the important treasearch and teaching which lay as the background to the great discoveries, supporting the great finds, exploiting the IDSVV‘VelnS of rich scientific possibilities uncovered by the IJiJDHeers: Virchow, Pasteur, Koch, and Helmholtz. Part of itlhe German dominance of biological science was due to this 1a‘I‘ge number of scientists not of the first rank. The number ‘3f Inen who make truly great discoveries, opening new fields ‘Vitfll brilliant innovations, is small. It is important to the SuCCess of a scientific discipline or to a country that there ib" available a host of followers to do the less innovative, iblrt vital, work of supporting and exploiting the new finds, 'b)’ testing and applying the new principles in many areas. This is how the establishment of the creative tradition in Science took its form in nineteenth-century Germany. As part ofAmerica's dominance of science generally in the twentieth Cell'tury is due to our possession of a large number of such 1Ibid. 38 men, so Germany dominated biological science in the late nineteenth century for the same reason. Thus, the Germans created an institutional system of education and scientific research which not only insured the free creativity of the scientist, but also enabled the pro- longation of his work through his students. The relative decentralization of the German university system facilitated the creation of a large body of scientists of the second rank who patiently exploited the discoveries and insights of the few great men. Hence, students, such as Theodore Flournoy, Were able to go to provincial German universities and receive first rate training from men who did not need to go to Berlin t0 be professionally fulfilled. Germany's university struc- t'«ll‘e reflected her political structure; it was not a highly Centralized network dominated by a single center. "Even the greatest scholars in Germany could not dominate and tyrannize OVer the whole body of their fellow investigators without restraint; however, in contrast to France, in any given field of research there was not a single unified polity controlled from the center but a loose federation of polities."1 The lateness with which Germany became unified was of benefit to i . . . . . t3 sc1ence because 1t enabled local un1ver51t1es to develop L111fettered by a central administration. It is no wonder that b y the latter half of the nineteenth century Paris was held 1Ibid., p. 36-37. 39 to be much less satisfactory than Germany with regard to medical education. We can see that, because of Germany's rise to leader- ship in the biological sciences, whether it was due to a German penchant for careful, routine investigation, or to their desire to apply the scientific method to the study of lgiving things in an effort to attain a unified knowledge of tlie world, or even to their develOpment of a creative tradi- tzion in the laboratories and institutes which enabled great fiscnientists to pass along their work to a host of secondary illvwestigators, nineteenth-century students of the sciences ‘Varlted to go to Germany for advanced study. William James, wifilliam Welch, and numerous others went there because it was 1T1 (3ermany that the important work was being done in biolo- €§i<2£11 science, and the students could thereby put themselves In the vanguard of scientific progress. It was to Germany that Theodore Flournoy directed his StSips in 1876, joining scores of other young men. We unfor- 1'."~11'1ately lack any direct information from Flournoy or his friends about his medical studies, but by using the example C)j5 ‘William Welch, we can get some idea of the medical irlStruction which Flournoy received in Germany. Although I21Ournoy's goal was not the practice of medicine, as it was i? . . . . . (317 W1111am Welch, they attended two of the same un1ver51t1es 1Thomas Neville Bonner, American Doctors and German A Cha ter in InternationaliIntellectual [J’ - hlversities: _ _ f1§§§1£1tions, I870-1 1ncoln: University of Nebraska Press, , p. 18. 40 at about the same time and had some of the same instructors. This fact enables us to use information supplied by Welch in his letters and by his biographers to explore the conditions prevailing in the schools where Flournoy persued his medical education. Theodore went first to Freiburg im Breisgau, where he spent two semesters in 1876 studying anatomy. In 1877 he transferred from Freiburg to Strasbourg in order to continue his study of medicine, chiefly under the direction of the great scientist, Friedrich von Recklinghausen. According to Robert C. LeClair Flournoy "went to Strasbourg to broaden his interests and to follow the work of a certain doctor he greatly admired."1 This "certain doctor" we can most cer- t3airlly identify as von Recklinghausen. The formerly French C3111)? of Strasbourg had changed hands as a result of the war of 1870‘, and the Germans had received the university as well. They proceeded to turn the place into a fully German institu- tion, from which "every trace of French influence had been removed."2 According to G. S. Hall, Bismark "lavished French 1n~<1emnity money upon the splendid new installation, the UniVersity of Strassburg, to make plain his purpose to the I:rench."3 Indeed, in an effort to make the most of this OI)Portunity, "the Germans had tried to win over the city by Robert C. LeClair, personal communication, May 10, Fleming, William H. Welch and the Rise of Modern Ivle\dic_in£, p. 33. G. Stanley Hall, Life and Confessions 9_f_ a Psycholo- 3 w (New York: D. Appleton, 1924), p. 231 41 sending their most brilliant young men to the university, so that the medical school soon ranked next to Berlin's."1 The medical faculty at the University of Strasbourg had been very highly regarded during the old regime and was ranked with Paris and Montpellier as one of the top three French medical .schools. It had been much frequented by foreigners on account c>f this fine reputation.2 As a French medical school, Eitrasbourg had been noted for its excellent clinical training, tlie French specialty. Under the German administration the emphasis was shifted towards scientific medicine, and Strasbourg, along with Breslau and Heidelberg, quickly gained a. Ifeputation for its excellent laboratory facilities.3 As Bonner says, the presence of the scientists von Recklinghausen, waldeyer, and Hoppe-Seyler "gave Strassburg the reputation of 1”Sing the best university in Germany for scientific medi- czilles."4 And it was to study scientific medicine that Flournoy Went to Germany. Another student who went to Strasbourg at about the SE1“1e time as Theodore Flournoy was William Henry Welch (1850- 1934), an American, born and raised in New England. The son 1Simon Flexner and James Thomas Flexner, William Henr d the Heroic Age of American Medicine (New York: The geisha— 1— 1ng Press, IglIl, p. 78— Coury, "The Teaching of Medicine in France From the 2 Beginning of the Seventeenth Century," pp. 121 G 126. 3Bonner, American Doctors and German Universities: A ig'lnternatIOnEI Intellectual’Relations: 1870-1914, 4Ibid., p. 35. 42 of a doctor, Welch first desired nothing more than an instructorship at his alma mater, Yale. When this was denied him, he decided to study medicine, going first to the College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York, from 1872 to 1875. When he graduated, he was about as well prepared in his field as an American could be. In 1876 he set sail for Europe to <10 advanced study in Germany, a step almost necessary if he vmas to be of any importance in American medicine. He arrived zit: Strasbourg in the spring of 1876 and set to work. His .lertters give us some excellent glimpses of the university and ‘tlie: personnel with whom Flournoy studied when he got to Strasbourg a year later. First of all, Welch remarks on the fact that Strasbourg }1311 ‘been transformed, that the influx of Germans "'has intro- dllced German intellectual life and attracted students from all parts.'"1 As a teaching institution, the university was Superb; there were laboratories for histology, pathology, phYsiological chemistry, and others, all watched over by some (’15 'the best teachers in Germany: Waldeyer, von Recklinghausen, a11d Hoppe-Seyler. William Welch described the situation this iva137: 'We have nothing in America like these laboratory courses, for example in New York physiology is taught only by lectures, here there is an excel- lect physiological laboratory where one can do all the experiments and study the subject practically. The idea of the German system of university Flexner and Flexner, William Henry Welch and the Age 2: American Medicine, p. 78. M 43 education is to furnish every facility for study, whether anybody makes use of it or not.‘1 Note that the presence of extensive laboratories played a part in attracting students to these German universities. Theodore Flournoy could not have made a better choice than Strasbourg for his medical study. It is very likely that Flournoy, like William Welch, sstudied normal histology at Strasbourg with Wilhelm Waldeyer (fl1936-1921), a specialist in microscopic anatomy of the liexrvous fibers of the auditory organs, and of the ovaries and tlre development of the genitals. His was not a lecture course; CH1 ‘the contrary, the method was to let the students make 'tlleeir own laboratory discoveries under careful supervision. EaCh student was assigned a microscope and given precise directions in its use and in the preparation of specimens. Th€>Inthe students were left to come to the laboratory when- <3\resr they wished to prepare their slides for each subject unSUpervised. Similarly, medical students studied with Ernst Felix Picpjpe-Seyler (1825-1895), the founder of physiological (zllfinnistry as a discipline separate from medical physiology. Ii‘e ihad been in charge of the chemical division in Virchow's :F)erthological institute, and during his career he carried out 3LTnportant investigations in the field of blood chemistry and 1Ibid., p. 80. 2Ibid., p. 79. 3Joseph S. Fruton, "Felix Hoppe-Seyler," Dictionary pf tific Biography, Vol. VI, pp. 504-506. %n 44 on the nature of intracellular oxidation processes. His course, like that of Waldeyer, was not a lecture course where the emphasis was on rote memory. It was a laboratory course where the student was expected to carry out his own researches and make his own discoveries. Students like Flournoy and Ifielch were required to make quantitative and qualitative aJialyses of substances such as urine, bile, and milk-~"but Ehoppe-Seyler, although engaged in original investigations and ill writing a book, 'found time to visit me (as well as the reest) at my work at least twice daily,’ wrote Welch in a ltatrter home, 'always knew what I was working at, and always, to me before leaving, dropped some suggestive remark. 11G: :is the most attractive professor whom I have met in Ge rmanY. I 8'1 The principle scientist at Strasbourg, and the one with whom both Flournoy and Welch wanted to study was the great pathologist and anatomist, Friedrich Daniel von I{e-C-‘Jklinghausen (1833-1910). He had been Rudolf Virchow's m<3$t brilliant student at the University of Berlin, from 1855 1t‘3 1861. Now von Recklinghausen was teaching pathological hiStology and pathological anatomy (the study of the physical ssitiructure of diseased portions of the body) at Strasbourg while carrying out his own important investigations which ea"Eintually led to his discovery of two diseases which still bear his name. Since von Recklinghausen only took advanced Flexner and Flexner, William Henyy Welch and the Age 2f American Medicine, p. 79) M 45 students who were well versed in the use of the microscope, William Welch could not immediately attend his laboratory courses_and had to be content with the normal histology courses of Waldeyer, while he developed his skills with the tools of research. In August, 1876 he went to Leipzig to :receive additional training, but Theodore Flournoy was able 190 work with the great man during his stay at Strasbourg, lceading us to assume he had received the necessary preliminary training either at Geneva, or more likely, at Freiburg im Breisgau the year before. In any case, Welch has left us a description of von IRecklinghausen in action as he guided the medical students ‘tllr‘ough the labyrinth of pathological anatomy. The great ‘SCZioentist talked very rapidly, so that it was difficult for 'tller American to follow, and this made Welch very nervous, Sfiirlce, wrote Welch, "'von Recklinghausen does not seem to have much patience with stupidity. Last Monday he almost lOSt his temper with a stupid fellow who was blundering 1through an autOpsy, but finally his frame of mind changed and I am glad that I was 1 11‘3 ‘took a jocose View of the matter. rlc>1: the victim. The poor fellow fainted.'" We may safely assume that the "poor fellow" was not Theodore Flournoy, for it“’ one ever hinted that he might be stupid at anything. In Shire of his apparently fearful demeanor, von Recklinghausen erl the laboratory was as non-directive as his colleagues, .‘v311deyer and Hoppe-Seyler, when it came to the actual conduct 1Ibid., pp. 78-79. 46 of his course. There was, in the opinion of Welch, an almost "'He bestows,’ wrote Welch: 'very little personal attention upon those working with him.'"1 total want of supervision. Once again we see this fecund approach taken by the scientist/ teacher as he limited himself to criticism and suggestions for possible lines of research, leaving the problem and its solution to the student's own abilities. However fierce the prrofessor's wrath, he did not dictate the work to be done. It was under von Recklinghausen's direction that Iflxournoy prepared his dissertation for his M.D. degree, C_Ontribution t_g the Study pf the Fatty Embolus, (1878).2 The 't<3p>ic was characteristic of the work done in von Reckling- hausen's laboratory. Theodore's discovery of the fatty embolus in man was at that time a genuine contribution to Pathology. In addition to his very time consuming laboratory CHDLlrses, he worked in the clinic and with animal experiments, ShOwing that, contrary to what had been believed, suppurative 188 ions of the weak parts of the skeletal system were not the or11y places capable of producing this deadly phenomenon. In ad(lition to his original work on this topic, Flournoy con- (1‘1 William James. 4 Thomas, "Professeur Flournoy," p. 840. 48 part responsible for his attending Yale University, a bastion of orthodoxy, from 1866 to 1870. Yet after his scientific work in Germany and his exposure to a culture different from his own, Welch reversed his position, embracing Darwinism, repudiating free will, and mocking religion.l Flournoy, on the other hand, seems to have weathered the onslaught from anti-religious forces in Germany, for he gives no evidence that his position changed from that which he held at the University of Geneva. His faith remained intact. Thus Flournoy, with his medical degree finished but his faith unchanged, was ready to continue his quest for knowledge. He neither wanted nor needed to practice medicine, so he considered this just completed scientific work as a sort of introduction to his real subject: man. He approached his t0pic from two points of view, reflecting the dominant passions of his life which were obvious even in his under- graduate days. The first of these was exact science or scientific truth; and the second was that of moral value, or man as a spiritual creature. He had satisfied, to some extent, his passion for scientific truth about men by studying with some of the best scientists of his day. Now, to pursue the other passion, to study man from a moral view, the young doctor, ”to whom the droplet of the unknown appeared larger in proportion to his rise on the steps of the ladder H Flexner and Flexner, William Henr Welch and the '£Z:§L22 g Agg gf_American Medicine, pp. 873§§, 49 of university education,"1 went to Leipzig in 1878 to study philosophy as deeply as he could. 1Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son CD<3“uvre," p. 9. CHAPTER III LEIPZIG AND WUNDT As we have seen, Flournoy studied medicine at the University at Strasbourg from 1877 until 1878 when he received his M.D. degree after having written his doctoral thesis, "without which a German student could not receive the title Doktor."1 William Welch had gone to Strasbourg in the spring of 1876 and, after a few months of preparatory study, departed for Leipzig in August. Welch finished his degree in Leipzig, and because he had been there only a short time before Flournoy, we can use his testimony to supply some information about Flournoy's stay there. The University of Leipzig, to which Flournoy went in 1878, was one of Germany's oldest and largest, enrolling over 3000 students. The presence of Carl Ludwig's famous and well- equipped physiological Institute made the university a formidable center of scientific research. William Welch has left us a description of this aspect of the university: 1Hans H. Simmer, "Principles and Problems of Medical thdergraduate Education in Germany During the Nineteenth and Ekirly Twentieth Centuries," The Histoyy of Medical Education, ‘eCl. by C. D. O'Malley (Berkeley: UniverETty of California Press, 1970), p. 191. SO 51 'If you could visit the handsome and thoroughly equipped physiological, anatomical, pathological and chemical laboratories and see professors whose fame is already world wide, with their corps of assistants and students hard at work, you would realize how by concentration of labor and devotion to study Germany has outstripped other countries in the science of medicine. There is much less feverish energy and haste and consequent friction, for more repose here than with us in all departments of life. Men do not grow old so soon.‘1 Nevertheless, it was not the outstanding facilities for scientific research which lured Flournoy to Leipzig in 1878. He was not interested in continuing his scientific training any further. The twenty-four year old doctor was now prepared to turn to the study of man as a moral rather than as a biological subject. From his earliest years he had been interested in man from these two points of view, and now he wanted to study philosophy. In taking this task, Flournoy was repeating the pattern established during the course of his undergraduate days at Geneva: first he studied letters, then the sciences and mathematics, then theology, finally returning to the sciences in preparation for medical school. Accordingly, the new M.D. turned to philosophy, writing and preserving always voluminous notes of his philOSOphical studies at Leipzig. Flournoy studied logic with Max Heinze (1835-1909), a specialist in the history of philosophy and one of the out- standing figures in Germany in the field of Classical 1Flexner and Flexner, William Henry Welch and the .£ZS§;3313 Age pf American Medicine, p. 83. 52 philosophy. Flournoy studied the history of philosophy with Karl Goering (1841-1879), who wrote widely in the fields of philOSOphy, adapting the doctrines of positivism and empiri— cism to ethical and logical problems. Goering's intent was to reconcile Kant and Comte. Goering collaborated with Avenarius, Heinze, and Wundt to publish, from 1877, the review, Vierteljahrsschrift ffir wissenschaftliche Philosgphie. With Rudolf Seydel (1835-1892), Flournoy studied morals. Seydel had been trained as a philosopher and theologian and was a professor of comparative religion. While remaining faithful to the substance of Christianity, he opposed both the traditional forms of the faith and the doctrines of materialism. Through the efforts of these men, Flournoy was thoroughly introduced to the study of philosophy during his stay at Leipzig. He was exposed to some of the paramount philosophical issues of his day, especially the one in which he was most interested: the relationship of science and religion. This would have been the most interesting to Flournoy because he had had within himself a creative tension between these two spheres of human life. We have already seen this in evidence during his school days at Geneva. But by far the most important thing that happened to Flournoy, the event which did so much to shape the rest of his life, was his study with Wilhelm Wundt, who had just come to Leipzig :four years earlier to found a new science: experimental PMSychology. Because Wundt was so important to the career of T1*).eodore Flournoy it is necessary to discuss the man and his '~'<:>rk in some detail. 53 Wilhelm Max Wundt was born on August 16, 1832, in Neckarau, Baden, a suburb of Mannheim. His father, Maximilian Wundt (1787-1846), was a Lutheran pastor. Although he had three brothers and sisters, two of these died while he was a young child, so that he led the life of a solitary, studious, only child, much given to daydreaming. Little Wilhelm was not close to his parents, preferring the company of Friedrich Mfiller, a Lutheran vicar, probably Maximilian's assistant, who undertook the young scholar's education after Wilhelm spent two years in the Volksschule. Their mutual affection was so great that, when Mfiller was transferred to the neighboring village of Mfinzesheim, Wilhelm was so depressed that he received permission from his parents to go and live with his tutor. He was, at this young age, almost completely occupied with study and scholarship and had no friends or any of the usual boyish experiences: "He never learned to play," writes Boring.1 In 1844 he entered the Catholic Gymnasium at nearby Bruschal, was miserable there, and a year later moved to the Lyceum at Heidelberg. Although here he finally came out of his shell, making friends and engaging in schoolboy pranks, his school years were characterized by much study and inten- sive reading which prepared him for a career of scholarship and for the university at the age of nineteen. In 1851 he entered the University of Tfibingen where his Inother's brother, Friedrich Arnold, was a well respected 1Boring, A History pf Experimental Psychology, p. 317. 54 professor of anatomy and physiology. He stayed at Tubingen only one year, transferring to Heidelberg for the final three years of his undergraduate work. At Tubingen he made the decision to become a physiologist, but because of the rela- tive poverty of his family (his father had just died and his mother was surviving on a widow's pension) he had to find a way to combine his love of physiology with a practical way of making a living. So, Wundt decided to become a physician, although he seems not to have had any real desire to practice: "Wundt had some doubts as to whether he was suited to be a physician, but the medical training offered an indeterminate compromise between preparing to become a doctor, a profession which would earn him a livelihood, and studying the sciences, a task more congenial to Wundt's scholarly temperament."1 At Heidelbert Wundt studied anatomy, physiology, physics, chemistry, and medicine. It was during this period that he carried out his first original researches. He became a clinical assistant at the Heidelberg University Hospital for six months, "the only time he learned anything useful 2 He also continued his about the practice of medicine." researches; his observations about "touch sensitivity of hysterical patients led him to challenge the formulations 0f'Ernst Heinrich Weber (1795-1878), and were regarded by lIbid., p. 317. 2Wolfgang G. Bringmann, William D. Balance, and Rand B. 5V11ns, "Wilhelm Wundt 1832-1920: A Brief Biographical Sketch," Journal of the Histor of the BehaviOral Sciences, Vol . 11, N_3—(o. JfiTyTTQTST—X, p. 7.91. 55 Wundt himself as 'the first way stations of experimental work which led to psychology.‘ The paper, which described part of this investigation, was used as his medical dissertation for which he received the M.D. on November 10, 1855 sgmme_ggm laude."1 Then Wundt went to Berlin for a semester to study physiology with Johannes Muller (1801-1858), the father of experimental physiology, and with Emil Du-Bois Reymond (1818- 1896). This otherwise disappointing venture had the result of turning Wundt away from the study of medicine for good, and he now resolved to make physiology his life's work. On his return to Heidelberg he was given a Dozent in physiology. That was in 1856. He had applied for a second doctorate ("Habilitation") that would enable him to lecture on his own, and this distinction was accorded him on February 5, 1857. He then offered his first course in experimental physiology during the summer semester of 1857. A sudden illness early in the term forced him to abandon his class, but he immedi- ately applied for the position of assistant to Herrmann von Helmholtz (1821-1894), who was coming to Heidelberg in 1858. Wundt duly became Helmholtz's assistant at the newly estab- lished physiological institute in August, 1858, his duties cionsisting of the drilling of beginning students in the Ifilndamentals of laboratory work, a thankless task! Wundt was 31So able to offer courses of his own, including 1Ibid., p. 291. 56 "Anthr0pology," beginning in 1859 and "Psychology as a natural science" in 1862. Wundt ended his association with the institute in 1864 when he was made an associate professor ("Ausserordentlicher Professor") in physiology, a promotion in rank, but one with- out regular salary or duties. Wundt established "a small laboratory in his home, supporting himself with the revenues of this first textbooks in physiology and medical physics."1 In 1871 Helmholtz went to Berlin, but Wundt, who had passed six years in the same laboratory with him, was passed over as his successor. He was, however, given an appointment in 1871 as a salaried extraordinary professor, which led to his (Iffering university courses in "Anthropology" and "Medical PHSychology." The increase in his income also enabled him to Inarry his fiancee, SOphie Mau (1844-1912). After remaining zit: Heidelberg for three more years, Wundt was appointed to the chair of inductive philosophy at the University of Zurich, i111 1874. This move reflects the change in Wundt's interests, ‘Vlli.le at Heidelberg, from physiology to psychology. Between 1873 and 1874 Wundt published the first edition of his famous EELZZEEpdzfige der physiologischen Psychologie, which was based on I)“j-Si past sixteen years of work in physiology and on the :l‘ee‘ZVtures he had been giving at Heidelberg on physiological :SYChology, beginning in 1867. This, "the most important ‘:’(31k in the history of modern psychology,"2 was, "on the one 1Ibid, p. 292. 2Boring, A History 3f Experimental PsycholOgy, p. 322. 57 hand, the concrete result of Wundt's intellectual development at Heidelberg and the symbol of his metamorphosis from physiologist to psychologist, and, on the other hand, it was the beginning of the new 'independent' science."1 The book contained not only the ideas and results of researches in the field, on which Wundt had worked for so long, but also an outline of the system of psychology that Wundt was to estab- lish. He was given the opportunity to realize this ambition to found the science of experimental psychology when, in 1875, after only a year at Zurich, Wundt was called to the University of Leipzig as Professor of PhiloSOphy, and there lie stayed until his death in 1920. At the direction of the academic Senate of the univer- Eiity, the Royal Ministry gave the newly arrived professor a 'SHuall lecture room in the commons building (Konviktsgebafide) 3f1>r use in his own experimental work and for demonstrating therlectures of his seminar, entitled, "Psychologische fibungen" (Psychological Practicum). Since Max Friedrich, the first student to do publishable research with Wundt, began lliiss work in the fall term of 1879,2 this date is usually (:(DIlsidered as the "founding" of the first laboratory for 1Ibid., pp. 322-323. I) 2Friedrich was awarded his degree in 1881. ween directing graduate theses since 1876, when the first two (eTt‘e completed. Friedrich's thesis (Uber die Apperceptions- a all er bei einfachen und zusammengesetzten Vorstellungen) was 'IsiE:leroximately the fifteenth dissertatiOn directedfbyOWundt. Mi 6 lve of these were strictly philOSOphical in context. See 1 8 es A. Tinker, "Wundt's Doctorate Students and Their Theses 1 9 5-1920," American Journal 9i Psychology, Vol. 44 (October, 2), pp' 6 ‘ Wundt had (N\H4 ‘ 58 experimental psychology.1 In the summer of 1881, Wundt's course was renamed "Psychophysische Ubungen fur Vorgerfick- tere" ("PsychOphysical Practicum for Advanced Students"). "His students now had the use of the original room, of adja- cent rooms when they were free, and of what apparatus Wundt owned privately. The University, as yet, did not officially recognize work in Wundt's laboratory. It was a private 2 In 1883 the Royal Ministry gave course offered by Wundt." Wundt a small grant, and also two more small rooms, as well as the funds for an assistant. The title of his course was changed once again, this time to "Seminar fur experimentelle .Psychologie." This was the "first recognition by the Univer- ESity of Wundt's experimental instruction."3 Also in 1883, Mfundt's students were first able to receive university recog- rlition for their work in the laboratory. (It should be mentioned that William James's students had been receiving c31"edit for their experimental work with him in his laboratory isiillce 1875.)4 In 1881, Wundt had begun the publication of lliiss journal, the first "psychological" journal, Philosgphische 531ludien (Philosophical Studies), and this publication served E155 the organ for the researches carried out in the laboratory 1t 1Robert S. Harper, "The First Psychological Labora- n is not required for our purposes for two reasons. To 1J. C. Flugel and Donald J. West, A Hundred Years of if) __ it) :3 cholo 1833-1933 (New York: Basic B06ks, Inc., 1964), - 2Ibid. 65 begin with, it would be virtually impossible to do. One reason for this is the sheer bulk of Wundt's output. According to Boring's calculations, Wundt published in his lifetime 491 items, consisting of about 53,735 pages of text.1 To read all this thickly technical material, consisting of experimental psychology, his philosophy, and his work in social psychology, would take a dedicated scholar nearly two and one-half years at the rate of 60 pages a day!2 A second reason for the difficulty of the task is that Wundt Was con- stantly editing, adjusting, amending, and supplementing his published work, seeking always to incorporate the most up-to- date information in half a dozen fields into his books. This Ineant he was constantly amending his ideas and subtly changing 1:hem. It would be most difficult to follow the constant czhanges in this thought, a necessity for any fully detailed and comprehensive presentation of his ideas. William James Guammented to Carl Stumpf on this aspect of Wundt in a letter: "- . . Wundt only geners his confreres; and whilst they make mincemeat of some one of his views by their criticism, he is Bleaanwhile writing a book on an entirely different subject. (3Lrt him Up like a worm, and each fragment crawls; there is no Eljzsagg vital in his mental medulla oblongata, so that you c:a111t kill him all at once."3 1Boring, A History 2: Experimental PsycholOgy, p. 345. 2Schultz,A History 2f Modern ngchology, p. 47. I) (58 3Perry, The Thought and Character 9: William James, II, 66 But a key fact about Wundt's psychology leads us to the second reason why we need not concern ourselves with the fine points of Wundt's system: that is the fact that while at Heidelberg, early in his career, Wundt first published his Physiolggical Psychology, outlining ideas on the new science he intended to found. He knew therefore, before he got to Leipzig, what he wanted psychology to become and how he was going to set about making a reality of his dream. He had set a lifetime project for himself. His basic ideas about his new science were fixed, and he did not deviate seriously from the outline he had conceived at Heidelberg as a young physiologist.1 That is, the basic concept of psychology remained fixed throughout his lifetime, regardless of the rnany changes in detail which he made. It is easy to point (Jut the many changes appearing in the six successive editions cxf the Physiolggical Peychology (1873-1911), but as Boring .Szays, "the essential structure of the system was predeter- mined in 1874 and held to ever after. Wundt did not write zirrother, more mature system of psychology: he modified, improved and expanded the original."2 We can conclude from - 1For more evidence of this, see Wundt's article, "Con- tIributions to the Theory of Sensory Perceptions," in Thorne Sblpley, ed. , Classics 13 P5 cholo (New York: PhiloSOphical Llbrary, 1961). This is a translatlon from his book, Beitrfige 2411‘.Iheorie der Sinneswahrnehmung (Leipzig: C. R. Winter, , 2). In it he spells out his dissatisfaction with tradi- tilcnlal philosophical approaches to psychology, the necessity :21? 131xing experience as its true subject matter, the need to tee both skilled introspection and experiment as investiga- tive tools, and his belief that the parts of experience and e11? laws of connection can thereby be determined. 2Boring, A History 9f Experimental Psychology, p. 323. 67 this then that a simple exposition of Wundt's early psycholo- gical ideas, ignoring the later additions and refinements, will be sufficient to present the material and concepts to which Theodore Flournoy was exposed during his stay in Leipzig as Wundt's student. We can approach our discussion of Wundt's psychology by examining the origins of the new science that he created. The intellectual roots of scientific psychology are many and varied. A brief summary, however, of the most important of them can show how the new science emerged from the intellec- tual climate of the nineteenth century. The first topic to be considered is the philosophical background of psychology. The two most important currents of philosophical thought vital for the development of scientific psychology were Empiricism and Associationism. Identified with the English thinkers Hobbes, Locke, Berkeley, and Hume, Empiricism (the idea that experience is the sole source of knowledge) stood for the rejection of a rationalistic approach to questions deemed psychological and thus opened the door to their possible scientific study. Closely allied with Empiricism was Associationism, or the notion that the mind and its content can be best understood as combinations (according to fixed laws) of memory and of ideas derived from sense impressions. The influence of these twin ideas was not limited to England. Several important Continental scientists adopted them and applied them to their work. The most 68 notable of these were the German physiologists Weber, Mfiller, and Helmholtz. To the twin philosophic currents of Empiricism and Associationism let us add two other important characteristics of the intellectual climate of the mid-nineteenth century. The spirit of positivism, associated with the name of Auguste Comte, pervaded intellectual life and was a dominant force in scientific circles. Basically, positivism referred to the investigation of nature and man with the aim of discovering facts "the truth of which was beyond question, i.e., those facts determined through the methods of science. Positivism, then, refers to a system based exclusively on facts that are immediately obser- vable and undebatable. All else of a speculative or inferential nature is rejected as illusory. A positivistic philosophy deals with only those things that can be known through the senses.1 Closely associated with positivism was a current of material- ism which supported its anti-metaphysical bias. These twin currents of intellectual life were highly important both to shaping nineteenth-century man's view of his world and to the creation of modern science, including psychology. The attitude of nineteenth-century scientists is described by Daniel Robinson as one of philos0phical naturalism: "The world and everything in it are matter. The world is to be comprehended as matter in motion. Human reason, by which this comprehension becomes possible, must 1Schultz, A History pf Modern Psychology, p. 20. 69 1 This idea aim itself at nature and unearth nature's laws." was especially prevalent among the German scientists with whom we are concerned, including those with whom Flournoy studied. They applied these principles to every field of study, especially the study of the body's physiological pro- cesses and then to the human mind. In Germany this idea took the form of the concept of Wissenschaft, that is, "every kind "2 of disciplined research that aims at knowledge; The Germans felt that "every field of knowledge could be equally scientific,"3 and they applied the critical methods of disci- plined research to all subjects. This attitude led not only to the creation of the modern biological sciences (not to mention the German systems of philosophy, ethics, philology, Biblical criticism, and history) but also to the creation of scientific psychology, which when it became established as a Wissenschaft in its own right was then incorporated into the German university structure. It is felt among some historians that the chief reason for the German preeminence in the creation of the modern biological sciences, including psycho- logy, came from the fact that "the German scientist was schooled in a philosophy which maintained that any subject 1Daniel N. Robinson, An Intellectual Histor ‘2: Psychology (New York: MacMiTTan, 1976), p. 3II 2H. P. Rickman, "Geisteswissenschaften," The Enc clo- pedia 9f Philosophy (New York: MacMillan, 1967), V01 3., p. 5. 3Gardner Murphy, Historical Introduction 53 Modern Psychology, p. 74. 70 was within the purview of science, that any topic could be . . . . . . 1 treated 1n a sc1ent1f1c or w1ssenschaft11ch manner." Several important contributions to the science of psychology came from the prior development of physiology as an experimental science. Misiak and Sexton have enumerated seven separate topics of study undertaken by nineteenth- century physiologists which directly contributed to the foundation of scientific psychology. These topics are: "(1) the nervous system, and the brain in particular; (2) the nature of nerve impulses; (3) the reflex action; (4) the localization of functions in the brain; (5) the sense organs and their functions--especially vision, hearing, and touch; (6) the theory of specific energies of nerves; and (7) the concepts of internal environment."2 The philosophical ideas of Empiricism, Associationism, positivism, materialism, and the German wissenschaftlich attitude prepared the way for the creation of a scientific psychology. It was the contribution of physiology to provide a body of experimental data and a methodology for the study of the bodily mechanisms underlying mental phenomena. The physiologists took psychology out of the study and firmly located it in the laboratory; they made it both physiological and experimental. "Psychology, then, 1Velma Dobson and Darryl Bruce, "The German University and the Development of Experimental Psychology," Journal 3f the History 3f the Behavioral Sciences, Vol. 8 (19725, p. 2060 ' 2Henryk Misiak and Virginia Sexton, Histor pf Psychology: AA Overview (New York: Grune S Stratton, 1966), P 71 owed to physiology its separation from phiIOSOphy, its acquisition of a scientific status, and its initial impetus as a science."1 To this picture of the origin of scientific psychology let us add a note about another very important factor in the intellectual climate of the nineteenth century. This is the impact of Darwin and of the doctrine of evolution. Darwin's theories closely complemented the other philosophical develop- ments because it saw evolution "as a change in develOpmental mechanisms, with natural selection (and other mechanisms of adaptation) disposing of any need to invoke supernatural agencies."2 Thus it reinforced the anti-metaphysical bias of Empiricism while it reinforced the tendency of science to view man as a biological organism, thus diverting attention away from the idea of the soul. Darwin's use of the scien- tific method also provided an exemplary model to be followed. Darwin's theories tended to make the differences between men and animals disappear, paving the way for both animal psychology and comparative studies. Evolution was also a weapon used by psychologists to bolster up the notion that psychology was a natural science and no longer a part of philosophy. In summary we may say with Kantor that "the notion of natural selection was a factor of evolution, . made for a much more naturalistic treatment of the human 1Ibid., p. 43. 2Michael Ghiselin, "Darwin and Evolutionary Psychologyf‘ Science, Vol. 179 (1973), p. 967. 72 being than had been possible under the domination of notions of special creation."1 By the latter half of the nineteenth century the groundwork had been laid for the establishment of a scientific psychology. The philosophical positions described as Empiri- cism and as positivism combined with the German ideal of wissentschaft gave the new science both a theoretical and methodological framework. The creation of modern physiology provided basic data, methods, instruments, and concepts for the new study. Darwinian evolution helped remove man from his special place in the world and rendered him a soulless organism capable of scientific examination. Building on the work of his masters, Mfiller, Weber, Fechner, and especially HelmholtL'Wilhelm Wundt was the man who put these elements together with the avowed aim "to mark out a new domain of science."2 Wundt was explicitly an Empiricist in his philosophy. From Associationism he derived the idea of the mind being constituted from simpler elements. While neither a thoroughgoing positivist nor a complete materialist, he did reject the idea that the psychologist be concerned with the soul. For him, the mind meant "no more than and only that which is directly reportable as an observation of an 1J. R. Kantor, The Scientific Evolution pf Ps cholog , Vol. 2, (Chicago: The Principia Press, I969), p. 308 2Wilhelm Wundt, Preface to the First Edition of the Principles of Physiolo ical Psychology (1873), in Wayne Dennis ed. Readin 5 1n the Histor of Psychology (New York: Appleton-Century-CroftET I948}, p. 2487 73 internal event. If the mind thinks, feels, remembers, attends, and forgets, then a science of mind can be no more than experimental inquiries into the determinants of thinking, feeling, remembering, etc. When its predicates are exhausted, there is no metaphysical residue."1 As a highly trained physiologist he was well equipped to adapt the study of the bodily processes to this new ideal, the study of the human mind. In this way he surpassed the others, such as Spencer, or Alexander Bain, who had called for the creation of the science of psychology, but who lacked the necessary training to do so. Wundt set up a laboratory supplied with the appropriate instruments and announced in his textbook: "As an experimental science, physiological psychology seeks to accomplish a reform in psychological investigation compar- able with the revolution brought about in the natural sciences by the introduction of the experimental method."2 It was Wundt's resolve to abandon speculation and to create a science of psychology that would have mental opera— tions as its subject while using the strictly scientific methods of the physiologists. "The effect," says Humphrey, "of Wundt's work was roughly to change psychology from the concern of a number of nonexperimental, somewhat philOSOphi- cally minded systematists, and a kind of side interest of a 1Daniel Robinson, AA Intellectual Histoyy 9f Psycho- logy, p. 332. 2Wilhelm Wundt, Preface to the Fifth Edition of the Principles 2: Physiological Ps cholo (1902), in Wayne Dennis, ed., Readingsih the 1story 9: Psychology, p. 249. 74 number of experimentalists in other subjects, into an experi- 1 As a good scientist, Wundt proposed that mental science." his psychology was going to be the scientific study of a specific topic; it was to be the science of experience. He was going to eschew the ways of philosophers and arm-chair theorists: "It is not metaphysics and must develop itself without recourse to metaphysics."2 Psychology to Wundt meant physiological as well as experimental psychology. His interest was in the conscious processes that make up mental life. His approach was to try to break down or decompose experience into its smallest discrete units, just as a chemist would decompose a substance into its chemical elements to determine what it really was. Once this process had been completed, and the elements of experience, called by Wundt sensations and feelings,3 had been isolated, they could be examined and measured with aim of determining how they were connected to form conscious mental life and whether there were any laws governing their combination. As Wundt himself expressed it: psychology was "the investigation pf conscious 4 processes ip_the modes of connexion peculiar to them." 1George Humphrey, "Wilhelm Wundt: The Great Master," in Benjamin B. Wolman, ed., Historical Roots pf Contemporary Psychology (New York: Harper 8 Row, 1968i, p. 276. 2Boring, A History pf Eyperimental Psycholggy, p. 331. 3Schultz, A History pf_Modern Psychology, p. 49. 4Wilhelm Max Wundt, Principles of Physiolpgical? Ps cholo , Vol. 1, trans. from the fiffh German edition lIEUZl E B Titchener (New York: The Macmillan Co., 1904), p. 2. 75 Wundt's psychology has been termed "structuralism" by historians. One of his most famous and important students, Edward B. Titchener (1867-1927), borrowed the term "structural psychology" from William James in 1898 to refer to his own work. He was pointing out the distinction between his own school of psychology, closely related to that of Wundt, his mentor, and that of the Chicago School, called "functional" psychology.1 Basically, structuralism aims at producing a scientific anatomy of consciousness. As the founder of this school, Wundt set a threefold goal for it: "(a) to analyse the conscious processes into their basic elements; (b) to discover how these elements are connected; (c) to determine their laws of connection."2 Thus, it was the analysis of experience that Wundt viewed as his subject matter. But what was the method used? For Wundt the answer was simple; he could dispense with the vague, uninformed speculations of philosophers and use scientific experiment and observation to analyse experience into its elements. He would then measure how long the mind took to perform its task of assimilating sensations and feelings and how the mind put these elements together to form conscious experience. It was to this end that his subjects had sharp points poked into their arms, that they counted an elusive group of dots momentarially exposed during the fall of a shutter, that they learned rows and rows of nonsense 1Boring, A History 9: Experimental Psychology, p. 555. 2 Schultz, A History pf Modern Psycholegy, p. 49. 76 syllables or depressed a key at the moment a certain color was exposed to view. It was for this reason that the pro- fessor of philosophy needed a laboratory and scientific apparatus. "If the subject-matter is immediate experience, it is plain that the method is immediate experiencing."1 In addition, Wundt had his subjects report on their experiences-- that is, he utilized the method of introspection. But it was not casual, uninformed recounting. His subjects were specially trained to report what they experienced in a special way. Introspection, as it was developed by Wundt, was a special skill which had to be learned before it could be practiced as part of the laboratory work.2 Thus, it was this form of psychology that Theodore Flournoy encountered when he studied in Leipzig. First from von Recklinghausen, then from Wundt, Flournoy learned the wissenschaftlich ideal of knowledge, the ideal that all sub- jects, even the human mind, were able to be studied through a patient application of the scientific method. He was always to uphold Empiricism as one of his highest ideals, as we shall see. From his undergraduate days he had rejected the metaphysical claims of both positivism and materialism while adopting the scientific methodology and a faith in the ability of this methodology to solve the problems of the phenomenal world. It was Flournoy's dualism, his belief in the validity 1Boring, A History pf Experimental Psychology, p. 332. 2Watson, The Great Psychologists from AristOtle pg Freud, p. 267. 77 of both science and religion in their respective fields (called his parallelism by his associates), that enabled him to maintain his faith while at the same time becoming a disciple of German science. Flournoy was also, through his experiences at Leipzig, introduced to the new science of experimental psychology at a time when it was becoming the cutting edge, the avant-ggrde, of psychological knowledge. Most of the psychology done in the years following Wundt's appearance was either inspired by him or by opposition to him. Having been one of Wundt's students was of great advan- tage to Flournoy's career. He does not seem to have swallowed all the details of Wundt's system, although he surely kept up to date during the following decades on the work done at the laboratory and with Wundt's evolving interpretation of that work. In point of fact, in one of the few places that he ever refers to Wundt, his remark is a disparaging one. To William James (October 2, 1894) he wrote: "I was extremely pleased to read the note in The Psychological Review, in which you roundly dispose of Wundt, as he deserves!"1 1The Letters Of William James and Theodore Flourno , ed. by Robert C.’LeCI§ir (Madison: 'THe Un1ver51ty of Wiscon- sin Press, 1966), p. 39, hereafter,Letters. The article to which Flournoy is referring is a short note entitled "Professor Wundt and Feelings of Innervation," Psychological Review, Vol. 1 (January, 1894), pp. 70-73. In this note James attacks Wundt on a technical point and then goes on to attack his method of revising his book, the Physiolo ical Ps cholo . Wundt, says James, fails to indicate at w ich p01nt Hls revisions differ from former editions of his work, so that the reader is left with the burden of determining what the new information is and, moreover, the reader is given the deliberate impression that Wundt has always held certain views which he may have actually Opposed in earlier 78 Flournoy was not the same sort of man as Wundt. He was not cut out to be an experimentalist. Not long after founding his own laboratory Of experimental psychology at the University of Geneva, in 1892, he grew weary of experiment and constantly complained of the burdens it imposed. He passed leadership of the laboratory along to his cousin and co-worker, Edouard Claparede, as soon as he could. Moreover, he had not the same indefatigable energy, persistence, and productivity as Wundt. Flournoy's letters are full of com- plaints of the inability to do large amounts of work, and while his output is not inconsiderable, seven book length studies, nearly fifty articles, he nowhere comes near equaling Wundt's enormous total. In short, we can sum up Flournoy's period in Leipzig as a typical, for him, side trip in his program of study. Once he had become a doctor and had con- ducted precise physiological research, he turned to philo- sophy. But Leipzig was to prove a very important side trip because he came into contact with a totally new approach to psychology, one for which he great affinity. His natural love for science, his lasting interest in man, and his excellent medical training, all suited him ideally to under- stand and appreciate the new science of experimental psychology. Leipzig provided a unique opportunity for him to editions. This practice often implies that some of Wundt's colleagues foolishly believe things that he has had the sagacity to reject. James charges Wundt with a "mania for a plausible smoothness, the shrinking from an appearance of fallibility, . . ." (p. 73). 79 inform himself of its nature, theories, technique, and goals. And finally, it must be remembered that for all his changing variety Of study, and intellectual interests some would say vacillation, he did become a psychologist after all. From a strictly practical point of view, the year 1880 was a very important landmark in Flournoy's life. It marked the end Of his formal education, though not of his continual intellectual efforts, as we shall see. It also marked the end of his travels; for, after leaving Leipzig, he went for a few months to Paris (November 1879 to the end of January, 1880) and then returned to Geneva, which he left only rarely for trips to professional meetings or for vacations on the Mediterranean. When one of his friends, Aloys Naville, invited him to accompany him to Ceylon, Flournoy replied: "'Ce n'est pas aller de Geneve a Ceylan qui m'affraie; c'est d'aller de Florissant 5 la gare de Cornavin!‘ From his home to the railroad station was about as extensive a trip as he cared to make."1 Finally, shortly after returning to Geneva, on April 15, 1880, in Lausanne, Flournoy married Marie-Helene Burnier of the Canton of Vaud, to whom he was a devoted husband for twenty-nine years, until her death in 1909, and by whom he had six children: Alice, 1881-1965; Blanche, 1882-1905; Marguerite, 1883-1963; Henri, 1886-1955; Helene, 1891- ; and Ariane-Dorothée, 1896- .2 1M” p. xviii. 2The Burnier family was of French extraction, having sought refuge in Geneva in 1572. CHAPTER IV THE PHILOSOPHICAL INTERREGNUM: 1880-1891 In spite of his many years of formal education, his scientific training, his M.D. degree, and his study with Wilhelm Wundt, Theodore Flournoy was not yet ready to stop learning. After his return to Geneva and his marriage to Marie Burnier, he set about a course of private study and intensive reading, "integrating and enlarging his interests in preparation for teaching."1 To his friends who pressed him to produce some result of his education, he responded: "'What do you want me to say? I don't know the first word 2 Obviously, Flournoy was preoccupied still about anything!'" by the basic issues which had characterized his intellectual life all along. His studies in philosophy seemingly had stimulated further his questions which centered on the nature of the human personality, and about the relationship of scientific and religious knowledge. Was metaphysical know- ledge, distinct from scientific or empirical knowledge, possible? Where these two forms of knowing mutually 1Letters, p. xvii. 2Quoted by Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy, sa vie et son oeuvre," p. 10. 80 81 exclusive and antagonistic to one another, or was there some way that the Christian Flournoy and the scientist Flournoy could find reconciliation? This old dichotomy remained at the heart of his problems, and it was to philOSOphy that he turned, seeking a solution which was pmflfered-neither by pure science or by religion alone. Flournoy approached a solution to his philosophical problems by way of the theory of know- ledge. He turned to Kant, having been introduced to his philosophy in Leipzig,1 to see if the sage of Koenigsburg could provide a solution to his difficulties, and for a time, Kant was "his intellectual and spiritual guide."2 Exercising great powers of concentration and of perseverance, Flournoy read the works of Kant in the original; he reread them, annotated and translated them, studied them thoroughly. In this effort to fully understand the German philosopher's thought, Flournoy burrowed deeper and deeper into the texts of the various Critiques. Claparede says that Flournoy, in his effort to arrive at the true meaning Of Kant, performed a sort of psychological exegesis of the works, "trying to put himself in the skin of their author in order to better understand what he had wished to communicate and to interpret it in the best way possible through his own thought. Under the words and often in spite of the words, he came to discover the profound intentions that [Kant] had 1Letters, p. xvii. 2Frank Granjean, "Theodore Flournoy," La Revue Romande, December 10, 1920, p. l. —— 82 wished to be expressed."1 In addition to his studies of Kantianism, Flournoy thoroughly studied the works of the nineteenth-century metaphysicians, Fichte and Hegel, applying to them also his unique method of understanding. But Flournoy was ultimately repelled by these men, turning in disgust from this "'metaphysical orgy.'"2 He also investigated and rejected Schopenhauer and his colleague in pessimism, Eduard von Hartmann (1842-1906). He returned to Kant and to the neO-critical philosophy of Renouvier, making Kantianism the philosophical foundation of his work. Theodore Flournoy found in the philosophy of Kant an intellectual confirmation of his already so well pronounced feelings about science and religion. Both are possible in Kant's system, each having its own appropriate place in man's life. Flournoy shared with Kant a radical distinction "'between believing in supreme realities inaccessible to discursive reason, an essentially moral and personal attitude, founded on judgements of quality and value,--and knowing, the organization Of phenomena under the indifferent, amoral, impersonal forms of scientific thought.'"3 This distinction Estayed with Flournoy throughout his career and helped him kxeep his way through his studies of spiritism and religious PSYChology. He was able always to preserve an equanimity in 1Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy, sa vie et son erVra"p.1m 21bid.‘ 3 Ibid., p. 11. 83 the presence of any conflict between science and religion, just as he had as a student in Carl Vogt's class. Flournoy's overwhelming interest in science and his studies of Kant combined to lead him into the study of the history and philosophy of science. He was concerned with what actually constituted Western science and how it had come to be as it is. He went to the original sources in this investigation. He studied the works of the ancient Greeks in astronomy, geography, and physics. He familiarized himself with the ideas of the Alexandrine Greeks and of the Arab scientists. He read Copernicus, Brahe, and Kepler and was passionately devoted to the works of Galileo. Descartes, Pascal, Leibnitz, and Newton also found their place in his study as he followed the progress of the history of mathema- tics. Moreover, Flournoy pushed his researches into the history of science beyond the usual bounds of the study. He investigated the vast and imprecise world of: . . . pseudo-scientific or semi-scientific repre- sentations, formed by the residus of aborted or badly oriented, premature or sterile attempts. On this foundation (which appears to us, to us who contemplate it today, mythological, infan- tile, or in certain aspects, pathological) which is the result of the naive and clumsy efforts, of the blind stumblings of ananomous crouds, and which is called cosmognies, alchemy, astrology, magic, occult science, or superstitions, on this founda- tion Flournoy sought to distinguish the clear tra- dition of the scientific conceptions being distinguished and organized as they pass across the centuries, from one seeker to another seeker, from one thinker to another thinker. 1Ferdinand Morel, "Theodore Flournoy,"’ReVue‘d'histoire EEE- 1Llilosophie religieuse (March, 1921), p. 176. 84 Flournoy was thus not only learning about the modern form of science, he also was becoming acquainted with the process of the growth and development of science from its very beginnings to his own time. His sympathies were all on the side of science as he followed its struggle to distinguish itself from philosophic speculation and to become an independent form of intellectual activity. "Nothing so inspired him with enthusiasm as much as tracing during the centuries the strenuous efforts of science, still imperfectly conscious of itself, to distinguish itself little by little from pOpular knowledge, to free itself from the reveries of metaphysics or from superstition, in order to isolate itself, to purify itself, to create an autonomous body, as those nymphs that the fable causes to be born from the slime of the marsh."1 Flournoy spent five years, from the time of his return to Geneva and his marriage, in this course of private study, devoting himself to philosophy and to the history and philOSOphy of science. He finally felt the need to leave his library and present some of his conclusions to the world. He 11ad to organize, condense, and bring out in the open his vast euzcumulation of learning. To this end he enrolled himself, 111 1885, in the Faculty of Letters of the University of (3euleva as a privat-docent, and offered a lecture course on 1 - 1Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy: Le savant, e Cltoyen," Journal d_e Geneve, November 10, 1920, p. l. 85 The Philosophy pf Kant.1 He was, at this time, little known in Geneva, so his course attracted few listeners, but those who were present remembered the lectures for their clarity of expression. More than once, Flournoy's colleagues comment on his virtues as a speaker. In addition to his courses, admir- able for their clarity and verve, rich in learning as solid as it was original, Flournoy gave himself to the public, and specially to youth, in a great number of conferences. Several times he took an active part in the meetings [of the Association of Swiss Christian Students] at Saint Croix, and even, on occasion, he collaborated in a series of apologetics organized in Lausanne by M. Charles Byse.2 He impressed his hearers with his command of the subject matter and with the ease with which he explained complex matters of philosophy or of psychology. Even the most abstract doctrines were clearly 1Flournoy was to speak on Kant again on February 12, 1904, at a conference held at the Aula of the University of Geneva on the centennial of the philosopher's death. He spoke again at a series of public lectures on Kant in 1906. Flournoy never edited any of his lectures on Kant for publi- <:ation, so that what we know of his work in this area comes :from unpublished notes quoted by Edouard Claparede in his Hugnograph on Flournoy, from a few pages of Flournoy's book, Dietaphysique et Psychologie, and from two posthumously pub- 1;Lshed manusciipts cons1st1ng of rough lecture notes. A sPecial number of the Revue de Metaphysique et de Morale was devoted to Kant in 1904 1n which the Genevan—caliference was ‘CE? 136 represented. Flournoy made a vague promise to write up IIJHS discussion of the "genius of Kant" for this publication, l3llt he never completed this task, and the special number appeared without his contribution. IV‘ 2Philippe Bridel, "Theodore Flournoy et son Oeuvre," __2;§E§132 und Leben, March 1, 1921, p. 390. 86 explained and illustrated by the use of striking or familiar examples, free of jargon and in everyday language. The primary quality of the lectures of Flournoy was life. His voice had warmth, move- ment, and a b1te which aided him to conquer an audience. His phrasing flowed with a unique elan, without an error in tone, with an impec- aBIe attraction and surity. One perceived in his speech--to revive a term that he was fond of--a 'bursting' Ejaillissement] and the life of his intelligence. Flournoy was not content to simply present Kant's thought in a purely objective and literal fashion, using the same terms and examples as did the philosopher; he did not present a textbook-like resume of Kant's thought. Instead he gave his hearers a feeling that he had rethought these matters and was presenting them in a totally new and free fashion. His hearers got the impression that these ideas concerned living problems within his own character. Flournoy‘s attitude was this: Kant was a founder and innovator. His work must be expected to contain inconsistencies and errors. When he found these, Flournoy pointed them out. Because the central problems to which Kant addressed himself were alive still during Flournoy's day, his work could only benefit, isaid Flournoy, from being seen in the light of man's "'1)rogress in clarity and distinction, so as to interpret it Eilnl the better, conforming to the true and profound sense of Ilius thought, rather than to the literal sense of his 1Robert Bouvier, "Theodore Flournoy: Le professeur," fi§é3L£lZ{;§l_d§_Geneve, November 22, 1920, p. 1. This entire In‘ellr'is devoted to an encomium of Flournoy as a teacher. 87 expressions, often confused, ambiguous, and hesitant; .'"1 Flournoy was striving to understand Kant better than he had done himself. "'If he still stutters and often gets confused in the struggle of his new idea with the old habits and the old directions, it is a duty to aid him by formulating his thought exactly, by often correcting him, by supporting him through preference for the luminous and precise points in his writings rather than those in which his views of genius are still entrapped in the old ruts and languidly creep along, seeking to arrive at a full knowledge of themselves.'"2 So Flournoy gave his first series of lectures on Kantian philOSOphy, the result of many years devoted to a study of the subject. He found in Kant a measure of support for his own positions, and much of his interest in Kant was surely due to the concerns they held in common. On looking back, Flournoy remembered these years with much fondness. In 1896 he wrote to William James, who was then in the process of giving his first course on Kant: ". . . I wish you as much pleasure as success in your new path, beginning ‘with your course on Kant; would that I might follow it and (live once more, under your direction, into the old master's tliickets; I dared, a dozen years ago, to tackle that rock (youth has no misgivings!) and two of my first courses as a 1These words of Flournoy are contained in a passage quoted by Edouard Claparede from an unpublished manuscript ‘VIIiJZII Flournoy drew up as a plan for his lectures of 1885. ee Edouard Claparéde, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son Oeuvrewp.1s 2Ibid. 88 'privat docent' were devoted to him. Today that epoch seems to me like the golden age of my studies!"1 Flournoy's study of philosophy served as a testing ground in which he became thoroughly familiar with the existing thought on the subjects and through which he sharpened his own ideas. Kant, in Flournoy's view, was important because he expressed the con- flict between two world views or mental attitudes evident in Western culture: the religious or moral, and the scientific. Flournoy saw Kant as a young man much like himself, of a deeply religious nature with an eager appetite for scientific knowledge. How did Kant resolve the conflict of the two opposing forces for himself? Kant, as Flournoy presents him, solved this problem through his distinction between the noumenal world of things- in-themselves and the phenomenal world of sense experience. 0f the former, nothing can be known or said about it other than its presumed existence. Within the realm of the phenomenal, man's intelligence operates; taking experience or the data of the senses as its raw material and proceeding through a series of mental operations the mind creates know- lledge about the laws governing these phenomena. Kant argued tllat the human psyche consists of two faculties. The first jus knowing, that is, the realm of science and reason which deals with the phenomenal world. Kant calls this faculty I’L‘IWB reason and identifies it with the natural sciences. Hume had caused Kant to momentarily suspect the validity of 1Letters, p. 59. 89 scientific knowledge, but Kant overcame Hume's objections and firmly held to the view that the knowledge given by the natural sciences about the phenomenal world is certain know- ledge, knowledge beyond all doubt, but not knowledge of the things in themselves. This is because the mind of man is so constructed as to give this sort of knowledge.1 Once he had solved this part of the problem, Kant turned to the second faculty: willing. This faculty is the one which deals with morality, law, and both civil and poli- tical institutions. Just as science proceeds from man's reason, so to does man's morality. Man, for Kant, is a rational creature, and this is what distinguishes him from the other animals. Just as animals have no science, they have no morality. Just as man has pure reason, enabling him to have science, he also has practical reason, which gives him his morality. Man has free will as well. Kant takes it as absolute and primary that man can become good or bad as he wishes; he can live in accord with moral obligations or he can violate them. Kant makes the further distinction between two types of morality or virtue: the first is a matter of (dbeying the laws or the moral rules because it is in one's cnvn.interest to do so. This Kant calls exterior virtue. The second, true virtue, consists of an interior change in the heart of man which causes him to want to do his duty (the (:flilaf moral obligation) and live in accord with the moral law (is: 1Theodore Flournoy, "L'idée centrale de la Critique -——— 91Ei Raison ure " Archives de psychologie voTT I7.iI§2I), - 5mm L" "' ' ' p - _.,.e_-.__.- 90 simply because it is good. This is not a matter of simply obeying the law because it is in one's own interest, but con- stitutes an exclusive respect for the moral law, which for Kant is the highest form of virtue. "Virtue," says Flournoy, "in the first sense does not demand a change of heart, but only a change of manners; in the second sense, a change of heart is necessary, a renewing of the most intimate and most profound things in the individual, ,"1 Obviously, Flournoy was interested in this second type of virtue, and it was in this that he believed just as strongly as he believed in the certitude of science. A good summary of Flournoy's conception of Kant is supplied by Flournoy's discussion of Kant's views on two related matters: grace and miracles. Kant admits neither of these into his scheme of a religion within the limits of reason alone. Since man lacks the ability to live a com- pletely moral life, he enlists on his behalf these aids of religion which transcend reason. Reason, according to Kant, has no way to evaluate or validate or legitimize, the objec— tive value or the truth of grace or of miracles. But in Kant's view, reason also cannot deny the possibility that they exist-~they are completely separate from the realm of reason, this being science and the natural laws of phenomena. Kant's religion was a matter of practical reason, the conduct of our actions, just as his science was a matter of pure reason, the 1Theodore Flournoy, "Fragments sur Kant," Revue de Theologie 35 de Philosophie, No. 41 (December, 19215, p. 310. 91 explanation of facts. Grace and miracles are outside the realm in which pure or practical reason operate. Flournoy evaluates the situation this way: Since man is free, he assumes, man can choose to adopt one of three positions. Man can be conceived as a "product of the meeting of sensations,"1 that is, a mechanism, solely material and without free will to do good or evil. Man can be conceived as a free agent, possessing reason by which he creates both science and reli- gion (Kant's View) without recourse to supernatural or transcendent agencies. Or finally, and this is Flournoy's view, man can be conceived as Kant does with the addition of a transcendent agency which comes to man's aid in his attempt to live the moral life. Flournoy found this transcendent agency in the formulations of Christianity. What Flournoy found most congenial in Kant was the notion of the certainty of scientific knowledge within the phenomenal world combined with the recognition that science also lacked this certitude with regard to the transcendent, man's moral life, or man's religious beliefs. Flournoy believed along with Kant that the scientific and the moral were two distinct realms of thought which should not be confused. He opposed the dogma- tism of a science which claimed to disprove grace and miracles, thus invalidating religion, as much as he opposed religious dogmatism which combatted science in the name of received religious truth. lIbid., p. 304. 92 This sketch should give some idea of the work Flournoy did on Kant's philosophy and part of what he taught during the academic year 1885-1886. Before leaving this subject it is necessary to discuss briefly two contemporary intellectual movements which also took Kant's philosophy as their subject: the Neo-Kantian movement and the neocritical movement. Neo-Kantianism is the name given to a group of closely related philosophical movements which sprang up in Germany between 1870 and 1920. These movements comprised a large number of diverse individuals who had "little in common beyond a strong reaction against irrationalism and specula- tive naturalism and a conviction that philosophy could be a 'science' only if it returned to the method and spirit of Kant."1 Each of these movements usually was identified with a German university where it originated, and each soon had its own journal to propagate its ideas. They disagreed extensively over their interpretations of Kant so that in no sense was there a general body of ideas shared by all the Neo-Kantians. Ernst Cassirer tells us that when he studied phi1050phy in the 1890's it was felt that a knowledge of Kant was fundamental. The "back to Kant" idea had been thoroughly accepted and . . was deeply inculcated in all philosophical minds. But this general agreement was only an apparent one. It contained the germs of a radi- cal dissention. Nearly all the philosophical schools referred to Kant and appealed to his 1Lewis White Beck, "Neo-Kantianism," The Encyclopaedia of Philosophy, Vol. 5, p. 468. 93 authority, but there was never a clear and unam- biguous way of interpreting his fundamental doctrines. Theodore Flournoy was certainly aware of this current in philosophy as we can see from his work on Kant, but we cannot be sure to what extent his interest in Kant was due to the influence of the Neo-Kantian movement itself or to his own concerns, moral, religious, scientific, and philosophical, to which he found Kant so congenial. Regardless of the original source of his interest in Kant, Flournoy's work on Kant was comparable to that of the Neo-Kantians in general. In the first place, Flournoy shared one characteristic with his German counterparts. Because of the difficulties, obscurities, and complexities of Kant's writings, a great deal of attention was paid to the very words themselves. Whereas Hegel, Schelling, Fichte, and other nineteenth-century followers of Kant "had used the words of Kant while being alien to their spirit, the Neo-Kantians were, on the whole, faithful to the spirit while being revisionists with respect to the letter. Attempting to legitimize their revisions by the ipissima verba of Kant, they established the craft of 'Kant-philology' and began an analysis of Kant's texts that had not been equaled in microscopic punctiliousness except in the exegesis of the Bible and of a few classical authors."2 We have already seen that Flournoy subjected the words of 1Ernst Cassirer, "Herman Cohen, 1842-1918," Social Research, Vol. X, No. 2 (May, 1943), pp. 220—221. 2 Beck, "Neo-Kantianism," p. 468. 94 Kant to a painstaking analysis in his effort to divine their meaning, and that he himself confessed that he admired the spirit or message of Kant while at the same time was critical of the terminology used to express this spirit.1 In the second place, part of the motive force behind the Neo-Kantian movement came from the desire of German intellectuals in the latter third of the nineteenth century "to come to grips with a widespread spiritual and social crisis, which was chiefly reflected in the skeptical attitude in many intellectual circles (especially among students and the young) regarding the effectiveness of education, intel- lect, humanism, and liberalism or . . . the ability of the German rational culture as a whole to provide an adequate answer to the spiritual and cultural problems that afflict society."2 The effectiveness of the traditional forms of civilization were being questioned by the achievements and the prestige of the natural sciences and by the growth of Prussian politics. This situation was exacerbated by the growth of industrialization and of the proletariat, accom- panied by the spread of materialism and of nihilism. We have seen that Flournoy was affected by some of these trends in his school days in Geneva,3 and must have come into greater contact with them during his graduate study in Germany. 1See above, pp. 86—87. 2Uriel Tal, Christians and Jews in Germany (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,_1975), p. 65. 3 See above, pp. 16-22. 95 While his discomfort was explained by his colleagues exclu- sively as the result of the challenge these ideas held for religion, one can only suspect that such a highly cultivated young man, who came from the solidly bourgeois, social and economic leadership of Geneva, would have found small comfort in the spread of socialism and the proletarization of culture and social manners. We know from letters written later in his life that Flournoy did not approve of developments tending toward socialism which he perceived in his own country. In any case, it is clear that some of the fear and anxiety felt by the Neo-Kantians in Germany was shared by Theodore Flournoy. The Neo-Kantians were reacting against the popular belief which had arisen that beliefs, ideas, values, were reducible to mechanical, chemical, or physiolo- gical processes. As Uriel Tal explains it: These descriptions of chemical, anatomical, or economic influences on the formation and growth of culture in their society, whether they con- formed to rigid, scientific standards or whether they were misleading pOpular representations, now became the chief criteria in evaluating the validity and relevance of a culture or an ethical system. Beliefs and ideas were taken to be nothing more than the products of glandular secretion, blood circulation, cerebral vibra- tions, or of social and economic needs, and of no greater value or consequence than any other physiological or empirical phenomenon. All this imbued young students with skepticism and intel- lectual arrogance, for they believed that they had discovered behind the confused vistas of the empirical world values and principles which they now recognized as illusions.1 The principles of mechanism, materialism, and positivism made 1Tal, Christians and Jews in Germany, p. 69. 96 man dependent on the external world. Man's mind had to con- form to external objects, and his moral behavior to practical considerations. Kant had established that man's spiritual autonomy did exist in two spheres: "first, in the sphere of cognition, by liberating knowledge from its dependence on sense impressions of the Cognized object; second, in the ethical sphere, by liberating moral decisions from their dependence on the practical consequences of the moral act. . Kant's 'COpernican revolution' had transferred the focal point of empirical cognition and moral judgements from external objects and the consequences of acts to the cognizing 1 And it was "man himself" that subject, to man himself." interested Flournoy. For him as for the Neo-Kantians, Kant was the philOSOphical bulwark against dogmatic, scientific materialism and what that position entailed. Flournoy shared with the Neo-Kantians the belief in the free will of man, in man's ability to know and to act as a moral being. He sought in Kant, as did they, a vindication of this view. Not enough of Flournoy's writings on Kant are avail- able to allow further analysis of this matter. There is nothing to support a more complex search for points of agree- ment and difference between Flournoy and the Neo-Kantians, nor is this a necessary undertaking. The only name of a Neo-Kantian philosopher appearing in the few published pages of Flournoy dealing with Kant is that of Herman Cohen 1Ibid., p. 71. 97 (1842-1918), and this is just a passing remark to the effect that Cohen was right in stating that Kant had given us a new concept of the idea of experience and a new theory of science.1 Since Flournoy moved on to other problems and devoted no more serious study to Kant it can be said that he had no intention of producing a systematic contribution to Kantian philosophy. In contrast, what "Cohen wished to present was a coherent system of philosophical idealism."2 He did develop a system in which he regarded thinking and being as one thing; he reduced all reality to thought; and with Cohen, says Cassirer, "Neo-Kantianism reached the 3 This program was alien to Flournoy, the scientist climax." and the man of religion, who was convinced of the reality of physical phenomena and of a transcendent, divine realm. So that we may sum up this discussion of Flournoy and the Neo-Kantians by saying that, while Flournoy was sensitive to some of the same stimulae, was pursuing a similar method, and found in Kant a congenial and supportive doctrine of man, he was not pursuing the same goals as the Neo-Kantians and did not agree with their interpretation of Kant. Flournoy was a scientist imbued with religious feeling, who sought help in clarifying his ideas on these subjects, and who was not 1Flournoy, "L'idée centrale de la Critique de_la Raison pure," p. 131. 2 Cassirer, "Herman Cohen, 1842-1918," p. 226. 3Ernst Cassirer, "Neo-Kantianism," Encyclopaedia Britannica, 14th ed. (1930), Vol. XVI, p. 215. 98 interested in developing a new philosophical system. He derived from Kant the support he sought and moved on to other concerns. The Neo-Kantian movement in Germany was paralleled to some extent in France by the school of neocriticism founded by Charles Renouvier (1815-1903). Edouard Claparéde tells us that Flournoy became familiar with Renouvier's work during his period of private philosophical study, 1880-1885.1 Renouvier was a student of mathematics and natural science who early in his life came under the influence of Auguste Comte, only to reject him later. He was an active socialist who espoused radical politics until Louis Napoleon seized power in 1851, when he retired from public life to devote himself to philOSOphy. His philosophical efforts were directed toward Opposing the currents of positivism, eclec— ticism, and social Darwinism, primarilybecause of the determinism characteristic of all three. "'His whole work,‘ wrote Wilfred Monod, 'was dominated by the desire to protect 2 To this human personality against the determinist flood.'" end Renouvier appealed to Kant's critical philosophy (hence the name, neocriticism) and was one of the first French philosophers to be profoundly influenced by him. What Renouvier saw in Kant was the German philosopher's efforts to 1Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son oeuvre," p. 10. 2Wilfred Monod, Quelques philosophes de France (Libourne, 1941), p. 41, quoted in John SEottT‘R€¥EETi::n Ideas and the Liberal Tradition in_France 1870- York: Co1umbia University Press, 19515, p. 76. 99 reestablish man's "spiritual autonomy" in the face of the nineteenth-century challenges, much as had the Neo-Kantians in Germany.1 "But though Renouvier started with Kant's method, he did not accept Kant's conclusions but used them rather as a basis from which to launch a set of ideas often 2 Like the German Neo-Kantians, Renouvier critical of Kant." was in no sense a slavish epigone of the master. It is easy to see what Flournoy found attractive in Renouvier's philoSOphy. To begin with, they shared a pro- found distrust and scorn of determinism in all its nineteenth- century philosophical and pseudoscientific forms. Moreover, Renouvier was an empiricist; his philosophy was based above all on experience,3 and this Flournoy would have appreciated immensely. Renouvier combined with this empiricism a strong defense of the uniqueness of each individual, of the basic rationality of man, and of free will. He argued that there was both causality and purposiveness within human action, and that happiness comes from a general recognition of individual human freedom. Renouvier's neocriticism is described by John Scott as: . . . an attempt to reconcile determinism in the world of matter with the concept of human free- dom and morality. It taught that there existed a real, phenomenal world, bound together accord- ing to natural laws, by necessary conditions, 1See above, p. 95. 2George Boas, "Charles Bernard Renouvier," The £22<2yclopaedia gf_Phi1050phy, Vol. 7, p. 180. 3John Passmore, A Hundred Years of Philosophy (Balti- mC’ITGB: Penguin Books, 1970), pp. IUD-IOTT 100 such as cause and effect. But man, this doctrine continued, must be understood as a rational, self- determining being who stood outside the phenomenal sequence in respect to his moral decisions and moral freedom. By virtue of the latter man could change and influence the course of events in the real world. Hence the possibility of man's mas- tery over nature, of progress, was predicted; conditioned, however, by moral progress, by man's mastery over himself and his own actions. It is easy to see why Flournoy would have found this a con- genial philOSOphy. Compare a statement of his taken from lecture notes prepared for his 1884 course on the philosophy of Kant: The human spirit possesses not only the faculty of knowing, but also that of willing, of desiring. Just as the first takes matter, so to speak, and presents it objectively, outside of ourselves, to us, in the data of the sciences,-— so also the second manifests itself in the great phenomena which concern conduct, the practical life of humanity: the moral systems, legisla- tion, civil and political institutions. Flournoy found much to approve of in Renouvier. Finally, Renouvier was a proponent of Protestantism. "To him Protes- tantism was the religion of a personal God--not an absolute and unchanging Being, omniscient and omnipotent, but finite, limited, free, and the guarantor of our freedom. God's existence is not proved, but it is a reasonable hypothesis 3 drawn from the existence of our moral objectives." Thus, Renouvier's adaptation of Kant's philosophy with his emphasis 1John Scott, Republican Ideas and the Liberal Tradition _1_n France 1870- 1914, p. 56. 2 Flournoy, "Fragments sur Kant," p. 294. 3Boas, "Charles Bernard Renouvier," p. 182. 101 on the uniqueness of the individual and on free will, com- bined with his rigorous defense of Protestantism, would have made him highly congenial to Theodore Flournoy. But as with the case of the German Neo—Kantians, we have to draw the con- clusion that there is insufficient evidence to attempt a thorough analysis of Flournoy's relationship to Renouvier. Once again it is a matter of Flournoy finding in Renouvier's version of Kant a vigorous presentation of some views he already held or which were implicit in his own thought. Primarily, Flournoy found reinforcement from Renouvier for his own values and ideas.1 Flournoy, Renouvier, and the German Neo-Kantians each in their own way took Kant as their starting point for building their own phiIOSOphical systems. They shared Kant's critical distinction between man's purely intellectual faculties and his moral or volitional ones. They were united in opposing determinism. Beyond these tenuous lines of connection there are no evident formal bonds between Flournoy and these other two late nineteenth-century philoSOphical movements. Flournoy only taught the course on Kantian philosophy during the 1885-1886 school year. He gave public lectures on Kant in the years 1904 and 1906, but he never again taught a purely philosophical subject, being soon otherwise occupied. As we have seen, he was greatly interested in the history and 1Henry Berguer tells us that ". . . in Spite of the admiration and the respect that he had for Renouvier, he uncierrstood Kant differently than Renouvier formulated his ne‘DCTriticism." Henry Berguer, "Theodore Flournoy (l8S4-1920)Q' @1133 Religieuse, November 20, 1920, p. 190. 102 philosophy of science, devoting many hours to the study of the original works of several pioneer scientists: Copernicus, Brahe, Kepler, and Galileo. If Kantian philosophy served mainly as a support for his own ideas, a way of investigating certain fundamental questions and of clarifying his own mind on these matters, the history and phi1050phy of science was a real love to which Flournoy was greatly devoted. "The history and the philosophy of the sciences," says ClaparEde, "satisfied, as nothing else could, the two mistress tendencies of his intelligence, his philosophical and critical disposi- tions (to return to the root of things, to separate the domains that had been unduly confused, to dig out logical characteristics . . .), and his taste for the positive sciences."1 He tau ht, once a ain as a rivat-docent in the 8 8 P Faculty of Letters, one course on the History of the Sciences in_1886-1887 and another course on the PhiloSOphy of the 2 Sciences, in 1887-1888 and again in 1889-1890. But the question arises, why didn't Flournoy continue with these topics? They were very congenial to his temperament and training, they inspired him to a great degree, and if he had done so, he would have been a real pioneer in the field. Edouard Claparede gives us a short explanation which really only serves as a tantalizing clue, raising more questions than it answers: lEdouard Claparéde, "Theodore Flournoy. Sa vie et son oeuvre," p. 21 . 2Charles Borgeaud, Histoire de l'Université de Geneve: ééégfiéfiyégig gt L'Universitéau XIX SiEEle 1814-1900, 553—3227—' 103 It is to this study [the history and philosophy of science] that he had desired to consecrate his life. However--and we have to cite here this generous trait, of such touching delicacy, which describes him completely--fearing to encroach on the rights of a Genevian philosopher who, in a neighboring Academy, cultivated the same subject, and to prevent his possible return to Geneva by barring his way, Flournoy broke with his preferred study and turned in the direction ofpsychology.l Who this rival savant was and whether he actually came to Geneva to teach the history and phi1050phy of science, we do not know. The only additional information available at present is the fact that in 1915 Theodore Flournoy was invited to leave the Faculty of Sciences and join the Faculty of Letters where he replaced Adrien Naville, who had just left his chair of logic and the classification of the sciences. Flournoy did not occupy himself with these two subjects, but began teaching instead his old love, the history and phiIOSOphy of science, continuing until 1919 when illness forced his resignation. It was probably this same Adrien Naville to whom Flournoy deferred in the late 1880's when he abandoned his work in the history and philosophy of science and turned instead to psychology. Flournoy first taught a course in Physiological Psychology, as a privat-docent in the Faculty of Science in 1888-1889, and he repeated this course in 1890-1891. He patterned his course after those of Wilhelm Wundt which he had taken in Leipzig in 1878-1880. In teaching his course, FICH1rnoy was joining the host of experimental psychologists 1Edouard Claparede, "Theodore Flournoy. Le savant, 19 cZitoyen," p. l. 104 spawned by Wundt's innovations who were working toward making psychology a science rather than a matter of speculation. Flournoy's years of study, in school and privately, in various fields and his teaching of psychology bore fruit with the publication in 1890 of his first book, a small work entitled Metaphysique _e_3__Ps_ychologie.1 Flournoy's aim in this work was to "clear away the terrain for a purely empiri- cal study of psychology, by establishing a very sharp dis- tinction between psychology as a special experimental science and the speculations about mental life and its relations with organic life that are usually designated by the name 'metaphysics."'2 In the course of his book Flournoy also plainly stated his position on certain philosophical and scientific questions which had been of importance to him all of his life. The actual contents of the book consist of Flournoy's contribution to the second of two public confer- ences held in December, 1888 at the University of Geneva on the subject of "The Soul and the Body." The aim of the conference was to give a public presentation of what "psychology" was coming to mean at the end of the nineteenth century. The first conference was devoted to showing by practical examples drawn from the researches of working psychologists of the kinds of work being done in the 1Theodore Flournoy, Metaphysique et Psychologie (Géneva: H. Georg, 1890); Italian translation,“M‘e't‘a'f‘i‘s'ica e PSJJzologia, edited by N. Checchia, Perugia, 1912. - 2Harald HBffding, "Preface" to Méta h si ue e; Psycho- .igfiiflgi (2nd ed.; Geneva: Albert Kundig, 1919;, p. x. 105 laboratories. Flournoy did not himself publish this material, fearing it would soon prove dated, but rather extended accounts of these meetings did appear.1 The second conference was devoted to a discussion of the principle of psychophysical parallelism and its ramifications. Needless to say, Flournoy used the opportunity provided by these public meetings to propagandize actively for psychology as a science. Flournoy's essential argument presented in this book goes this way: Psychology is one of the most recent of the sciences. It came into being around the middle of the nine- teenth century when certain men took two essential steps. First, they introduced the idea of measurement or quantifica- tion into the study of man's mental life. Second, they excluded all philosophy and metaphysics from their study. In this way psychology has copied previous sciences by separa- ting itself from philosophy to form an autonomous study under the name of Physiological or Experimental Psychology. It no longer concerns itself with the ultimate nature of things, with final causes, with the "why" questions of the universe, or with "meaning." Instead, it is content to measure pre- cisely and state the relations existing between the facts of phenomena. Clearly, Flournoy learned much from Wundt. The basic principle adopted by scientific psychologists (with 1Two accounts were published:‘ Le Monde'de;l§‘8cience .EE,