eral terms may be so combined as to give a concept with a unique, individual content. "Some men possess military genius" and Napoleon possessed military genius " are both concepts, both contain general terms, but the introduction of the proper noun into the last sentence makes out of it a concept with an individual content, stating what was true of but one man in all the past. There have been many military geniuses, but there has been but one Napoleon who was a military genius. Concepts without proper names may, also, have individual contents.

It is not, however, yet clear what the bond is that binds the elements of the historical concept together. It cannot be simply the unique and individual that leads us to select one fact rather than another for our historical synthesis, for all facts and all things are individual, a piece of coal being as individual and unique as a Kohinoor diamond. Its uniqueness must be bound up with its indivisibility or unity. The unity of a piece of coal matters little, that of the Kohinoor diamond everything. It loses its uniqueness with its unity. The same is true of a piece of canvas and a head by Titian, a piece of clay and a Sevres vase. The unity of the object, then, has value for us. We have to do here with a question of value, with a standard. Every object in the reality is complex and may attract the attention of the scientist either because of characteristics that it has in common with other objects or because of its unique traits. If the value of an object is due to what is unique in it, it certainly cannot enter into a general concept. Moreover, in describing it the scientist may note only those characteristics upon which its uniqueness and consequently its unity rest.

We thus reach the method of simplification applied by the historian he chooses from the endless number of individuals those that are valuable because they are unique, whose uniqueness is inseparable from their unity, and that thus have an importance because their loss or destruction would be irreparable. Our interest in an iron band is not historical; our interest in the iron crown of Lombardy is. To overcome the infinite manifoldness of the individual object the historian selects only those features of the object that are distinctive of it, that mark its unity and render it valuable.

The use of the word value seems to introduce an uncertain and arbitrary element into the problem. Valuable for whom? How can there be any agreement among historians touching what unique facts shall be chosen? Will the history of the Reformation written by a Catholic resemble that written by a Protestant? Will the opponents of the French Revolution select the same facts for their synthesis as have been selected by the supporters of it? Undoubt

edly, if they proceed scientifically. The question of value is not a question of partizanship nor of approval or disapproval; it is a question of importance. Is this fact important for the history of the Reformation? Is an account of the Reformation intelligible without it? The Protestant may love Luther, the Catholic may hate him, but they would agree that Luther is important for the history of the Reformation. This question of values is not decided by popular vote, by the man upon the street, any more than the laws of natural science are settled by careless, unscientific inference. They are the result of careful study and persistent discussion among scientists. The progress in historical synthesis means a growing agreement among scientific historians touching the important facts of this or that period. The historical method is thus teleological in a certain sense. The subject of an historical investigation is a unique thing, the life of an historical personage, a battle, an economic crisis, a period in the life of a people. It forms a unit and its value depends on its unity. It has beginning and end. We know what the end was, and we wish to know what the chain of events was that led up to the final event. We seek such facts, to be wrought up into a synthesis, as may be necessary to show how the end was attained.

The unique individuals with which the historian works are not necessarily persons nor are they single events; they may be the life of a people, the evolution of European society, the evolution of world society, the evolution of the visible universe. Moreover, these individuals are not isolated facts. Only art treats isolated individuals, and history is not art.' It deals with a related body of truth; and each of its unique individuals, each of its units, is part of a larger individual or unit and can be understood only when treated in relation to a larger whole. The Protestant Reformation is intelligible only when treated as a part of that larger whole that embraces the entire reform movement in the Latin church in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries; again, the history of the Reformation as a whole must be treated as a part of the whole history of the church, embracing the Eastern and Western churches, or it may be looked upon as a part of the historical life of Europe. The smaller unit is always related to a larger one until the limits of the visible universe are reached, for history deals with the whole of reality. This is the common practice of trained historians to-day, and yet they have been charged with dealing with isolated facts. Münsterberg confounded the formation of larger and larger generalizations, after the manner of natural science, with this grouping of

'Jonas Cohn, Allgemeine Ästhetik (Leipzig, 1901), 35, 36; Münsterberg, Psychology and Life, chapter entitled "Psychology and Art,” 145–178.

unique facts into larger and larger wholes. The difference is an important one and is the second point of difference between the two methods. In the selection of the elements for its synthesis, natural science chooses what is common to a number of facts; historical method selects what is important for the whole. What Luther has in common with other Germans might be important for the sociologist; it would not be for historians. It was just the thing that was unique in Luther, that distinguished him from other Germans, that rendered him important for the Reformation and for the whole subsequent life of Germany, that makes him an historical character. In the second place, the synthesis of natural science differs from that of historical science in that the former treats the individual fact as an example under a law, while the latter treats it as a complex part of a complex whole. In natural science, the more comprehensive the generalization, the thinner its content; in historical science, the larger the concept, so much the richer it is. The whole Reformation is more complex and richer in content than any of the parts of the Reformation in Germany, Switzerland, France, Spain, or the Netherlands, because it embraces them all. Furthermore, it should not be forgotten that while the whole is more complex and richer in content than any of its parts, the part retains its individuality and does not simply appear as the illustration of a law. If Buckle could discover no logical synthesis in the works of such a man as Ranke, it was because he was blind to every form of synthesis but that of natural science. When Münsterberg asserts that “Every science considers the single facts in their relations to other facts, works toward connections," he is simply stating what has always been the practice of historians; but when he adds "towards generalities,” he is stating what is not the practice and what could not be the practice if history is to remain history. His failure to note that the relation of the fact to other facts is not necessarily that of an example under a law, of a less abstract thing to a more abstract, but may be that of a complex part to a complex whole, leads him to the illogical conclusion that the method of natural science does not differ from that of historical science.

How

Not only does historical science select the facts important for the whole, instead of those common to all; not only does it treat these units as parts of a complex whole instead of examples under a law; but it traces the causal connection between the facts. can it trace causal connection without discovering laws and thus applying the method of the natural science? The confusion here is due to another musunderstanding as fundamental as those touching the selecting and grouping of the facts. Causality as a principle,

namely, that there is no effect produced in the empirical reality without a cause, has been treated as synonymous with natural law, that is, that the cause is equal to the effect. From one point of view, the cause is always equal to the effect; it is the point of view of natural science and is true only when we have eliminated what is unique from the series. From another point of view, the cause is never equal to the effect; it is the point of view of historical science. In the first case we speak of causal law; in the second, of causal connection. The points of view are complementary. I describe the battle of Waterloo and trace the causal connection up to the great disaster; I may find small causes producing big effects; it is the truth from one point of view. It cannot be denied that the natural-science method may be applied to the study of the material from which I constructed my historical synthesis, and may produce something quite different. Neither synthesis is false. The points of view are different; that is all. Because paper may be used for writing a letter does not debar us, on an occasion, from using it to light a fire.

The logic of the historical concept is not yet complete. History deals with the reality, and the reality is ever in motion. Our concept must be enriched by the idea of evolution. The expression has many meanings; it is necessary to fix upon one of them as containing the historical idea. Historical evolution means not simply motion, nor change, but a change that is unique and is important on account of its uniqueness. Motion and change, being common to all reality, cannot be the forms of evolution that we are seeking for. Natural science may treat of changes that are repeated and may formulate the laws of change. Sociology, dealing with social data from the point of view of the general, may trace the general process of social evolution, deriving its generalizations from several series of social changes. But a change that is historical must not only be unique, one that has never appeared before and can never appear again in our world, but it must be important on account of its newThe evolutionary series that the historian constructs is teleological; it has a well-defined beginning and end, and passes through certain definite stages; each stage is important per se, and the individual facts are important because they contributed to a certain. result.

ness.

There are two peculiarities of the absolute historical concept that still remain to be noticed. The natural-science concept is rendered definite by eliminating, as much as possible through definition, the perceptible that clings to the concept. The historical method, whose aim it is to keep as close as possible to the percep

AM. HIST. REV., VOL. IX. —2.

tible reality, cannot employ this method. It renders its concept definite by producing a clear image of the person or event that it is treating. It often uses for this purpose more material than appears to be logically necessary. The historian, to make definite the concept of Luther, of Napoleon, or of Bismarck, of the Diet of Worms, the retreat from Moscow, or the crowning of the Prussian king at Versailles, uses such material as may be necessary in his judgment to render perceptible the uniqueness of the person or the event. It is this end in view that justifies the description of personal traits, the reproduction of characteristic sayings, and of photographs of persons and places. The second peculiarity is encountered in the treatment of causal connection.

Every actual evolutionary series forms a continuous whole, but if it is divided into definite, teleologically essential stages, the gradual transition from stage to stage is destroyed. A science of the reality cannot permit such gaps to exist, but must fill them out with causal beginnings, that the various stages may be at the same time teleologically distinct and causally connected with one another. Everywhere where this is necessary, constituent parts of the reality become essential that are not teleologically necessary.'

events.

This accounts for the appearance of secondary persons and In the interest of causal connection the writer of an historical biography may and does introduce secondary individuals and events, simply in the interest of causal connection or explanation.

The form of the absolute historical concept is now complete. In forming his concept the historian employs general terms, but he combines them to form a concept with an individual content; the natural scientist forms concepts with general contents. The historian selects unique objects, important for the whole that he is treating, and selects the features of the object that render it important for the whole group; the natural scientist selects the features that are common to all the members of a group. The historian combines his unique, complex individuals into ever larger and more complex wholes, rendering them definite by retaining as far as possible their perceptible characteristics, and tracing the causal connection; the natural scientist forms his concepts into systems that are ever more comprehensive and consequently less complex or more abstract, and seeks for natural laws in which the cause is treated as equal to the effect. The natural scientist deals with the changing reality, but with changes that repeat themselves and thus render generalization possible; the historian deals with a unique teleological series with definite parts, but bound together in the interest of causal connection by elements that are not teleologically essential.

1 Rickert, Die Grenzen der naturwissenschaftlichen Begriffsbildung, 474.