PHILOSOPHY

Philosophy in the latter part of the nineteenth century was multifarious, being found not only in the colleges and emerging universities but also in lecture halls and journals published outside of academia. Its practitioners included clergymen, college presidents, public lecturers, journalists, scientists, and a small number of university specialists. And if Jack London's account in Martin Eden (1909) is at all reflective of life at the turn of the century, nonprofessionals engaged in knowledgeable discussion of philosophical issues as those issues had been defined by prominent philosophers. Most usually the philosophy taught in the colleges was understood to be supportive of Christianity or at least not in open conflict with it. It was also just beginning to be distinguished from what was to become the social science of psychology. (The two disciplines began to separate in 1892 with the formation of the American Psychological Association.) By the 1920s, however, philosophy was primarily a professionalized, academic specialty that religion could no longer count on for support and from which psychology had separated itself. To be sure, there continued to be colleges teaching philosophy in the nineteenth-century tradition, but they were not the leading ones.

PHILOSOPHY IN A WORKING-CLASS GHETTO

Jack London's Martin Eden, in the 1909 novel of the same name, finds himself—in chapter 36—in San Francisco's "working-class ghetto, south of Market Street," participating in an animated philosophical discussion.

The books were alive in these men. They talked with fire and enthusiasm, the intellectual stimulant stirring them as he [Martin] had seen drink and anger stir other men. What he heard was no longer the philosophy of the dry, printed word, written by half-mythical demigods like Kant and Spencer. It was living philosophy, with warm, red blood, incarnated in these two men [Kreis and Norton] till its very features worked with excitement. Now and again other men joined in, and all followed the discussion with cigarettes going out in their hands and with alert, intent faces.

Idealism had never attracted Martin, but the exposition it now received at the hands of Norton was a revelation. The logical plausibility of it, that made an appeal to his intellect, seemed missed by Kreis and Hamilton, who sneered at Norton as a metaphysician, and who, in turn, sneered back at them as metaphysicians. Phenomenon and noumenon were bandied back and forth. They charged him with attempting to explain consciousness by itself. He charged them with word jugglery, with reasoning from words to theory instead of from facts to theory. At this they were aghast. It was the cardinal tenet of their mode of reasoning to start with facts and to give names to the facts. . . .

"You have given me a glimpse of fairyland," Martin said [to Brissenden] on the ferry-boat [to Oakland]. "It makes life worth while to meet people like that. My mind is all worked up. I never appreciated idealism before. Yet I can't accept it. I know that I shall always be a realist. I am so made, I guess."

London, Martin Eden, in Novels and Social Writings, pp. 840–842.

COLLEGIATE PHILOSOPHY

Throughout the nineteenth century various denominational colleges were the main locus of higher education. Typically, the college president would be a Protestant clergyman and would teach the senior course in philosophy. Every senior would study—in a single yearlong course—a wide range of fields, including logic, epistemology, metaphysics, and moral philosophy. The latter would encompass not only ethics but also what were to become the social sciences. The philosophy being taught found its origins in European thought, notably an amalgam of Christianity and empiricism, often referred to as "Scottish common sense realism." The realism is to be understood as the expectation that reality was independent of the mind and could be known empirically or through sense experience. (Philosophical realism is not to be confused with literary realism or the faithful representation of reality. The philosophical usage, while varied, focuses on the nature of this reality. Often, the point for realist philosophers is to identify a reality outside of the mind; reality is not a projection of the mind but something that exists whether there were any minds or not.) This realism was Scottish in that it had been mediated through several prominent philosophers who taught in Scottish universities—Thomas Reid (1710–1776), Dugald Stewart (1753–1828), and Thomas Brown (1778–1820)—and the graduates of these universities who immigrated to the United States, notably John Witherspoon (1722–1794), a signer of the Declaration of Independence, and James McCosh (1811–1894), both of whom were presidents of Princeton, albeit a century apart. McCosh, in particular, came to represent this collegiate philosophy. But the important claim for these realists was that they thought that what was real was knowable by ordinary human understanding; what humans took to be real was in fact what was real. Hence "common sense realism." It was "commonsensical" in two senses: it was knowable by the ordinary understanding of everyone, and it constituted the generally accepted beliefs of everyone. As such it countered the skeptical conclusions of the scientifically oriented David Hume (1711–1776) and the metaphysical idealism of George Berkeley (1685–1753), who regarded all of reality as either a mind or dependent on a mind for its existence.

In general, according to the contemporary account of G. Stanley Hall (1844–1924), collegiate instruction was uninspired and controlled by the theological commitments of the college (Mind [1879]). Hall was a knowledgeable but hardly dispassionate observer. Recipient of the first PhD in psychology awarded in the United States (Harvard, 1878, under the direction of William James [1842–1910]), Hall studied in Germany, taught at the newly established Johns Hopkins University, and was later president of Clark University. He clearly reflected the view of the newly emerging scientific and professional orientation of philosophy in the United States. The aim of the instruction in the collegiate philosophy course was not to develop independent and original thinking, as Hall desired, but to complete the student's introduction to the existing body of knowledge. According to Hall and other sources, the total faculty in many colleges would have numbered ten or less and would have covered mathematics, science, languages ancient and modern, history, literature, and oratory. The conditions, as Hall pointed out, were hardly conducive to originality.

Hall acknowledged that there were a small number of educational institutions that embodied the values he prized—Williams, Yale, and Harvard Colleges. And he had hope for the newly formed University of Baltimore (as Johns Hopkins was initially known), whose faculty he would join two years later. But on the whole his view of academic philosophy in the United States was that it was "backward." Other observers, such as Elizabeth Flower and Murray G. Murphey (1:203–204), acknowledge many of Hall's criticisms and record that many more recent historians share his judgment. But Flower and Murphey attempt to counter this "jaundiced appraisal," emphasizing that Scottish common sense realism inherited from the Scottish Enlightenment an empirical and scientific orientation that served to liberalize and humanize a Christian and philosophic synthesis that admittedly was neither fresh nor exciting in approach and presentation yet was open to new developments in geology, biology, and psychology.

But, significantly, philosophy in the nineteenth century was carried on only in part in educational institutions. Keep in mind that the transcendentalists lived, wrote, and lectured largely outside of such institutions. Also, as Hall reported, there was much original and stimulating thought being done in journals and elsewhere by practicing scientists, such as Charles Sanders Peirce (1839–1914), one of the originators of pragmatism, and professional men of "partial leisure," in which category he apparently placed the St. Louis Hegelian William Torrey Harris (1835–1909). It would be unusual in the twenty-first century for "amateurs," such as Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882), the elder Henry James (1811–1882), Peirce, and Harris, to be considered as serious contributors to philosophical reflection. But it was not unusual in their day, for there was no expectation that philosophy was a narrow, academic, technical field. Thus to call them "amateurs" is to import a twentieth-century, professionalized understanding into the more diverse and fluid nineteenth-century situation.

THE ST. LOUIS HEGELIANS

This broad nineteenth-century understanding of philosophy is clearly seen in the movement that developed in St. Louis that has become known as the St. Louis Hegelians. The movement played a prominent and significant role in the latter part of the nineteenth century primarily because of the work of several individuals who came together in 1866 to form the St. Louis Philosophical Society and then became prominent in Missouri and elsewhere politically, educationally, and philosophically.

Harris, who was superintendent of the St. Louis public schools from 1868 to 1880, founded and edited the Journal of Speculative Philosophy (1867–1893) and served as the first U.S. commissioner of education from 1889 to 1906. Prior to the American Civil War the New Englander Harris had met a German immigrant, Henry Conrad Brokmeyer (1828–1906), following a talk that Harris had given at the St. Louis Mercantile Library. Brokmeyer, who was to become a lieutenant governor (and, for a time, acting governor) of Missouri (1876–1881), challenged Harris's defense of Victor Cousin (1792–1867) and urged him to study Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770–1831). This they did over the decades that followed, providing a Hegelian orientation to the group they formed after the war. An early participant in the group, but oriented toward Greek philosophy and culture rather than Hegel, was Thomas Davidson (1840–1900), a graduate of St. Andrews University (Scotland), who joined the St. Louis Philosophical Society in 1868. Later, with financial assistance from Joseph Pulitzer (1847–1911), Davidson would organize the Glenmore Summer School of the Culture Sciences in New York. Many prominent philosophers, including William James (1842–1910), Josiah Royce (1855–1916), and John Dewey (1859–1952) lectured at the school.

All three—Harris, Brockmeyer, and Davidson—exemplified a commitment to public service, education, and scholarship that formed a distinctive understanding of philosophy, one that had commonalities in differing ways with the transcendentalists, pragmatists, and ethical culture movement. But this edifying, publicly engaged orientation has largely been lost in the professionalized philosophy of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.

Yet during the latter third of the nineteenth century this distinctive approach played a major role in the development of American philosophy, for it informed the only American philosophical journal for much of the period, the Journal of Speculative Philosophy. The first English-language philosophical periodical, it provided a publishing outlet not only for the St. Louis group but also for many other American philosophers and had an international readership.

THE CONCORD SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY

In the late 1870s the long-held dream of many of the transcendentalists, notably Ralph Waldo Emerson and Amos Bronson Alcott (1799–1888), to establish a school of philosophy was realized in the establishment of the Concord School of Philosophy. It began with a six-week session in the summer of 1879 and held sessions every summer through 1887. It has been estimated that some two thousand people participated in the sessions over the nine years of its existence.

Intended to provide an institutional base for the various idealisms—Platonic, Hegelian, and transcendental—current at the time, the school's main lecturers that first summer included not only Emerson and Alcott but also Harris and the Platonist Hiram Jones of Illinois College. Davidson also lectured that summer. The next year, further strengthening the ties between West and East, Harris moved to Concord, and according to Flower and Murphey, "quickly emerged as the strongest lecturer on the faculty" (2:506). In succeeding years Noah Porter (1811–1892), the president of Yale, and McCosh, Princeton's president, also lectured at the Concord School of Philosophy, as did William James in 1883. The school survived Emerson's death in April 1882 and Alcott's stroke later that year, but less emphasis was given to philosophy in the remaining years and more to literature. With Alcott's death in the spring of 1888, the school failed to resume. With its passing, philosophic idealism increasingly found its home in the emerging universities.

JOSIAH ROYCE AND ACADEMIC IDEALISM

The Harvard philosopher Josiah Royce (1855–1916) most successfully articulated the idealist, or mind-constituted reality, orientation in the United States at the turn of the century. A Californian, Royce was a prominent member of the brilliant philosophy department that included William James and their student, George Santayana (1863–1952). James, one of the originators of pragmatism, along with Peirce, can only be considered briefly in this general article, but his significance is too great, then and now, to be passed over completely.

Royce and James were not only colleagues but also neighbors who carried on an extensive conversation in letters, in walks to and from their offices, over the fence, and in their published writings. James, who was more empirical in his approach, was critical of the idealist position, for it too neatly accounted for the diverse phenomena of everyday existence. Failing to develop a systematic alternative to the idealisms and often materialist empiricisms of his day, James had to settle for a probing, restless, questioning result. Royce was a constant adversary against which he contended. Yet one should not think that their sharp intellectual differences created animosity between them, for they were dear friends.

Royce, unlike James, sought to comprehend reality in a single vision and articulate it systematically. This, of course, was not unusual for a philosopher in the nineteenth century, but Royce attempted the grand synthesis with considerable knowledge of the scientific and intellectual developments of his day and the history of philosophy. The "strong impression" of the essayist John Jay Chapman (1862–1933), during his freshman year at Harvard, was that Royce "was very extraordinary and knew everything and was a bumblebee—a benevolent monster of pure intelligence, zigzagging, ranging, and uncatchable. I always had this feeling about Royce—that he was a celestial insect" (Clendenning, p. 118). Moreover, he pursued his project in the face of James's continuing challenges. His way into the project was also distinctive. He would show that the opening to absolute truth begins with an understanding of the "logical conditions of error" (Clendenning, pp. 119–120). Or as Edward Everett Hale (1822–1909), author of The Man without a Country, put it to the pluralistic idealist philosopher George H. Howison (1834–1916) upon hearing Royce lecture, Royce attempted to show that "our human ignorance is the positive proof that there is a God—a Supreme Omniscient Being" (Howison p. 234).

Royce's formidable project was developed in several books, and he enjoyed considerable prominence within the profession and increasingly in the public at large, but his project did not meet the concerns of the new generation. They were impressed with his learning, vision, intellectual passion, and dialectical skill, but rather than being persuaded, they became his critics. Idealism, and its most forceful American academic advocate, would give way to the new realists.

SANTAYANA AND INCLUSIVE NATURALISM

George Santayana entered Harvard as a freshman in 1882, the same year that Royce began as an instructor. Although born in Spain, Santayana was reared in Boston, educated there and in Cambridge, and then taught at Harvard for twenty-three years before retiring to Europe, where he spent most of his time in France and Italy. Nevertheless his influence on philosophy in America was considerable.

In 1912 Santayana went to Europe. The Harvard philosophy department hoped that he would recruit new faculty on his visit. Instead, he resigned, blasting the "unintelligible sanctimonious and often disingenuous Protestantism" that he associated with Royce. Detesting "the Absolutes and the dragooned myths by which people try to cancel the passing ideal, or to denaturalize it," Santayana signaled the significant philosophic change that was occurring at the beginning of the twentieth century (Clendenning, p. 344). The coming years would clearly reveal the backward orientation of Royce's overall approach despite his immense learning and attention to new developments in science and logic.

In 1896 Santayana published an early book, The Sense of Beauty, which employed an empirical and psychological approach with regard to aesthetic experience, similar to what his teacher James was to do in The Varieties of Religious Experience (1902). Nine years later Santayana published the five-volume Life of Reason, in which, with much learning and considerable literary grace, he proposed an inclusive naturalism. Philosophic naturalism understands reality to be fundamentally material rather than mental or spiritual. Thus it opposes metaphysical idealism. Naturalists differ over the nature of matter, with some naturalists regarded as reductionistic, reducing reality to matter, whereas others, such as Santayana, attempt to be inclusive, or nonreductionist. Santayana not only paid considerable attention to the arts, imagination, and religion, he also argued that material nature could have "spiritual functions" and "spirit a natural cause" (1:282).

Various materialisms (reality is composed of matter) and positivisms (reality is what science says it is; it is what there are positive facts of) had come to the fore in the nineteenth century, primarily in Europe. And the possibility of a naturalistic—that is nonsupernaturalistic—account of the origins of life had clearly been opened with Charles Darwin's (1809–1882) evolutionary theory. The English thinker Herbert Spencer (1820–1903) attempted a synthesis of science and religion that appealed to many in Europe and the United States. He was widely read; his ideas on the necessity of progress toward a society of cooperative, free individuals was welcomed by a public whose traditional beliefs had been challenged by the publication of Darwin's On the Origin of Species (1859). He was also influential. John Fiske (1842–1901), lawyer, historian, philosopher, and lecturer, was one of several writers and thinkers to popularize Spencer's views. But Spencer's approach lacked rigor and was unacceptable in many ways to a variety of sophisticated readers. Although it appeared to be a form of mechanistic, positivistic, and behavioristic materialism, it can be regarded, according to Flower and Murphey, as "a form of Berkeleyan idealism, for matter is defined in terms of force, and force is regarded as the direct action of God upon us" (2:531).

James, although an empiricist, did not find the materialisms of his day acceptable. His pragmatism was, he thought, a way beyond the standoff between intellectualist idealism and crude materialism. Santayana did not follow James in his pragmatism, but he did openly embrace materialism. Yet his materialism accommodated his aesthetic sensibility. This was something new, and it opened the way for those who would embrace both religion and science and yet reject idealism. The philosophical naturalists associated with Columbia University in the early to middle part of the twentieth century regarded Life of Reason as a "classic" (Eldridge, p. 54).

CRITICAL REALISM AND THE TRIUMPH OF PROFESSIONALISM

Santayana also played a role in the critical realism movement that would eventually supplant idealism. This realism, unlike the nineteenth-century realism that idealism had vied against, was much reduced in scope and focus. The earlier one had been a part of a total view of reality and a way of life. The new realism was a movement within academic philosophy, limiting itself to the concerns of philosophers as philosophers.

One can trace this realism to the work of James; reviews of Royce's books by two recent Harvard PhDs (and students of both James and Royce), William Pepperell Montague (1873–1953) and Ralph Barton Perry (1876–1957); and the origins of British analytic philosophy in the work of Bertrand Russell (1872–1970) and George Edward Moore (1873–1958). But the triggering event for realism was the 1910 manifesto "The Program and First Platform of Six Realists," that is, Montague, Perry, Edwin Bissell Holt, Walter T. Marvin, Walter B. Pitkin, and Edward Gleason Spaulding. Philosophical disagreement, these six contended, was due to the use of imprecise language and the failure of philosophers, unlike scientists, to cooperate in research. Accordingly, they proposed a collaborative program of research that would set the language and guiding principles of investigation and apply these agreed-upon ideas and careful language to "a program of constructive work" (Campbell, p. 124). This manifesto and a subsequent book soon became the focus of discussion among academic philosophers, and thus a three-way debate was joined of idealists, pragmatists, and realists.

This new realism was unable to sustain itself in the ensuing debate, due in part to disagreements among its proponents and their inability to answer their external critics on the problem of error and illusion. The new realists asked how one could know if what was regarded as knowledge was actual knowledge rather than an illusion. But the nascent movement quickly developed a response. In 1916 Roy Wood Sellars (1880–1973) published Critical Realism, which led to a new cooperative volume, Essays in Critical Realism: A Co-operative Study of the Problem of Knowledge (1920). Among the authors were Sellars, Santayana, and Arthur O. Lovejoy (1873–1962).

Sellars, like Santayana, was willing to declare himself a materialist and, also like Santayana, was not anti-religious. But where Santayana was quick to withdraw from teaching and society, spending his later, but very active, years as a wandering solitary figure in Europe, Sellars participated in public life and taught at the University of Michigan for forty-five years. That he was able to enjoy a successful career at a state university as a philosophical materialist is telling. When George Sylvester Morris (1840–1889) and Dewey taught at Michigan in the 1880s, the philosophy department, according to a colleague in the Latin department, was "pervaded with a spirit of religious belief" (Dykhuizen, p. 47). By the time Sellars was declaring himself a materialist, Dewey had come to share roughly similar views about reality and religion. Both, for instance, signed the Humanist Manifesto in 1933, the initial draft of which had been prepared by Sellars.

Lovejoy, a feared and respected critic, taught at Johns Hopkins from 1910 to 1938. In 1908 he published "Thirteen Pragmatisms," in which he distinguished thirteen distinct meanings of "pragmatism," thus establishing himself both as critic of pragmatism and a careful, precise thinker. A cofounder of the American Association of University Professors in 1915, Lovejoy also developed the "history of ideas" approach in his Great Chain of Being (1936). But what is worthy of some notice here is his presidential address, titled "Some Conditions of Progress in Philosophy," at the sixteenth annual meeting of the American Philosophical Association in 1916. Lovejoy thought it scandalous that philosophers so readily accepted disagreement among themselves. Instead, he felt philosophers, like scientists, should aspire to overcome disagreement by a much more careful, collaborative effort than was the case at the time. Problems should be isolated and attacked piecemeal by many investigators who have developed a common terminology. What was most important was that philosophers attempt to avoid the "overlooked consideration." Only by adopting this attitude, Lovejoy believed, could they leave behind the "good, old fashioned, casual, disconnected, individualistic, disorganized, and essentially amateurish way" that then prevailed (p. 139).

Lovejoy's proposal was neither universally accepted nor implemented precisely as he wished. The attitude he recommended became the ideal not only of realists such as himself but also of the analytic philosophers who practiced a rigorous examination of philosophical problems by a careful examination of language. Philosophy became not just academic but highly specialized and technical. That which was considered to be within the grasp of every college senior in the nineteenth century would become remote from the concerns and abilities of most educated persons in the last half of the twentieth century.

Pragmatism's second generation, led by Dewey most prominently but also by George Herbert Mead (1863–1931) and James Hayden Tufts (1862–1942), came of age during the period after the Civil War. These "social pragmatists," as James Campbell in The Community Reconstructs has rightly termed them, taught together at the University of Chicago before Dewey—who became America's best-known philosopher in the first half of the twentieth century—moved to Columbia University in 1904. Mead, Tufts, and Dewey remained friends and collaborators and sought to develop pragmatism as an inclusive naturalism that would enhance human practices. Their efforts met with considerable success in a variety of ways, both within academia and with the public at large, yet they were regarded as not sufficiently rigorous by the emerging realist-analytic movement, which came to dominate the profession of philosophy.

Not included among Campbell's "social pragmatists" but someone who should have been, according to Charlene Haddock Seigfried (pp. 43–45), is Jane Addams (1882–1935). The founder of Hull-House, the author of several books, and the 1931 Nobel Peace Prize laureate, Addams was not regarded as either a philosopher or a pragmatist, despite her close association with her academic colleagues at the University of Chicago (Seigfried, p. 44) and her public lectures and books; she was marginalized as a social worker and activist. Seigfried also makes the case that Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1860–1935), author of Women and Economics (1898) and "The Yellow Wall-Paper" (1899), should be regarded as both a pragmatist and a philosopher. But like Addams, with whom she cofounded the Women's Peace Party in 1915, Gilman did not fit the masculine academic model of what a philosopher should be (Seigfried, pp. 40–41).

In addition to the plurality of approaches already cited—idealism, realism, and pragmatism—there was some attention to European philosophers who are not easily characterized, such as Arthur Schopenhauer (1788–1860), Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900), and Henri Bergson (1859–1941). Although they were read within academic philosophy, they had perhaps greater appeal in the wider reading public. Bergson, in particular, with his embrace of both spirituality and evolution, was attractive to novelists such as Willa Cather (1873–1947), whose O Pioneers! observes Tom Quirk, "may be fairly characterized as a vitalistic novel, and the author clearly took much of her inspiration from Henri Bergson" (p. 122). Bergson's thought also appealed to William James, who summarized and commented on Bergsonism in his sixth Hibbert lecture, "Bergson and His Critique of Intellectualism," and in A Pluralistic Universe in 1909 (pp. 52–53).

James, more than most academic philosophers, was open to a variety of approaches and ideas. But this inclusiveness was to give way to the more narrowly professional path championed by Lovejoy and the realists, who initiated, as this article has shown, what was to become by the middle of the twentieth century the preferred orientation of academic philosophers. Philosophy, which had been a diverse affair practiced by many sorts of people, was well on its way to being primarily concerned with the problem of knowledge and the possibilities of close attention to language and logic.

see alsoPragmatism; Pragmatism; Scientific Materialism

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Primary Works

Hall, G. Stanley. "Philosophy in the United States." Mind 4 (January 1879): 89–105.

London, Jack. Novels and Social Writings. 1909. New York: Library of America, 1982.

Lovejoy, Arthur. "On Some Conditions of Progress in Philosophical Inquiry." Philosophical Review 26 (March 1917): 123–163.

Santayana, George. The Life of Reason; or, The Phases of Human Progress. 5 vols. New York: Scribners, 1905–1906.

Secondary Works

Campbell, James. The Community Reconstructs: The Meaning of Pragmatic Social Thought. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1992.

Campbell, James. "The Early Years of the American Philosophical Association." Unpublished manuscript, 2003. This manuscript originated in six talks presented at several meetings of the American Philosophical Association (APA) during 1998–2000 and were sponsored by the APA's History Committee.

Clendenning, John. The Life and Thought of Josiah Royce. Rev. and expanded ed. Nashville, Tenn.: Vanderbilt University Press, 1999.

Dykhuizen, George. The Life and Mind of John Dewey. Edited by Jo Ann Boydston. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1973.

Eldridge, Michael. "Naturalism." In The Blackwell Guide to American Philosophy, edited by Armen T. Marsoobian and John Ryder, pp. 52–71. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell, 2004.

Flower, Elizabeth, and Murray G. Murphey. History of Philosophy in America. 2 vols. New York: Capricorn Books, 1977. A full, authoritative treatment of the major figures and movements.

Good, James A. "The Development of Thomas Davidson's Religious and Social Thought." The Autodidact Project. http://www.autodidactproject.org/other/TD.html.

Good, James A. "The Journal of Speculative Philosophy, 1867–1893." Thoemmes Continuum. http://www.thoemmes.com/american/journal_intro.htm.

Howison, George H. "Josiah Royce: The Significance of His Work in Philosophy." Philosophical Review 25 (May 1916): 231–244.

Kuklick, Bruce. A History of Philosophy in America, 1720–2000. New York: Oxford University Press, 2001. A readable survey of the entire sweep of philosophy in America, but some of his expositions must be supplemented with a reading of the text that he is explicating to be understandable.

Quirk, Tom. Bergson and American Culture: The Worlds of Willa Cather and Wallace Stevens. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1990.

Seigfried, Charlene Haddock. Pragmatism and Feminism: Reweaving the Social Fabric. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996.

Michael Eldridge