progress of the author's mental unfolding. Even the inner conflict which must have preceded his change of career from preacher to philosopher is barely touched upon. His romance is compressed into the brief statement, "In 1868 I married." Now and then we glimpse some personal clash, as when Sully's candidacy for Bain's chair at Aberdeen was rejected and an obvious amateur appointed. The marked success of his Outlines and his eventual appointment to the chair of philosophy at London are narrated with no trace of emotional coloring. It is interesting to note that up to the age of fifty Sully was a professional free-lance, having no university connection except as examiner and occasional lecturer, and that much of his best constructive work was accomplished before this time. To those of us who regard him as first of all a psychologist, it is a surprise to discover how much of his time was devoted to other branches, including "pure literature." The writer tells us that the leading motive which led him to undertake his Outlines was a desire to present the psychology of Bain, his master, in more readable form. One of the great charms of the book is its picture of the author's social intercourse with his friends, including such well-known figures as Leslie Stephen, G. H. Lewes and George Eliot, William James, Darwin, Spencer, Meredith, and others. Under the captaincy of Stephen a group called the Sunday Tramps were accustomed for years to ramble together once a fortnight, and many interesting anecdotes are told of their adventures and sayings. In the latter part of the book some of these intimates are described and characterized in a sketchy, off-hand way. In many places the author reveals his subtle sense of humor. One can appreciate Sully's surprise in his proof-reading days at finding that he had twice passed over the expression, "Arabian Knights." We can sympathize with his perplexity when a girl student asked him to explain an obscure passage which she read aloud from a book; to gain time he asked her the title of the work, only to be informed that it was "Sully's Outlines." Stanley Hall's Recreations of a Psychologist does not aim to be autobiographical, but two of the shorter sketches are admittedly personal, and elsewhere one discovers thinly veiled traces of the author's personality. The longest story in the volume, The Fall of Atlantis, may be regarded as Dr. Hall's conception of the history of human civilization-a gradual progress upward to a stage of ideal perfection, whereupon, through the working of certain inherent tendencies, it is swept downward to destruction. Interesting the narrative is, despite its many technical details and unfamiliar terms. Yet there is a tinge of unreality in the picture, owing perhaps to the fanciful setting; for in the story the great continent sinks beneath the Atlantic waves in a few brief months, instead of the myriad or million years which geological processes seem to demand. To the psychological reader the most interesting portion of the book is the Note on Early Memories. Quite recently the author revisited three of his boyhood homes for the purpose of testing his capacity to evoke long-forgotten scenes and episodes. His description of the gradual unfolding of these recollections under the stimulus of the old environment is a fine piece of psychological analysis. Those who know the author only as a dignified scholar or revered teacher will be particularly pleased with the intimate details which abound in this study and in the more sprightly sketch, Getting Married in Germany. The account of Hugo Münsterberg: His Life and Work, by his daughter, completes the trilogy. It is at once pleasing and disappointing. The earlier chapters make delightful reading. They give a life-like picture of the youthful Münsterberg amid his home surroundings at Dantzig. In the later chapters the traits of Münsterberg's personality are obscured by elaborate details of his work and the story is overweighted with letters of friendly appreciation from colleagues. In fact the personality of William James, exhibited in many letters scattered through the book, stands out in sharper outline than the personality of Münsterberg. Historically the insertion of these "testimonial" letters is easy to understand, if we recall how Münsterberg suffered in the end from the virulent passions engendered by the war. Yet those who knew the charm of his singular personality will deeply regret that the biographer did not include more of his sayings and bring out more vividly his genial sociability on informal occasions. The reviewer recalls especially one evening gathering at a meeting of the Psychological Association soon after Münsterberg came to America. Professor Caldwell had delighted the crowd with a number of comic songs; then there were loud calls for Münsterberg. Wreathed with a broad smile our new colleague arose, and suggested that after the funny songs it was fitting that we should "want to hear the funny English." The audience was completely captured at once. That Münsterberg was a prime factor in the early development of psychology in America needs no demonstration. What the younger generation may not appreciate is the unusual mingling in his make-up of genuine greatness and childish naïveté. The latter element is not merely of special psychological interest. It goes far toward refuting the political aspersions which embittered Münsterberg's last years. HOWARD C. WARREN PRINCETON UNIVERSITY. G. M. STRATTON. Developing Mental Power. Boston: 1922. Pp. 72. As stated in the editor's introduction, the purpose of this monograph is to help settle in the teacher's mind the long-argued question as to the relative importance of special mental faculties, and the transfer of training. The method of such settlement consists in restating the evidence of both sides and then presenting a greater and wiser philosophy which seeks to harmonize all evidence to the great joy of all educators everywhere. If one reads the evidence carefully, there lurks a suspicion that at least one school of thought is not treated as impartially as the other, and if one forget for a moment that a new theory is being advocated, he finds himself reading a defense of the other partially disguised under new words. For example, we read that "The experiments in clear support of this doctrine, however that you train merely what you train-are few; most experiments contradict it" (p. 12). Citation of the contradictory experiments is meager, and in just what manner the experiments fall short of proving the point is left to the imagination. Under equally general terms, the results of experiments to the contrary cited on pages 32 and 33 present no statistical data so that we may judge for ourselves just how great the improved scores were, and so unfortunately we cannot decide for ourselves to what extent the contradiction and refutation are complete. The later chapters then gradually digress on to the general topic of development and training of the will, instincts, and emotions. If the reviewers do likewise and also forget what the arguments were originally, the answer to these highly inspirational statements is very obvious. It involves the historical development of the course of study when education was selective, fitted to a limited class of superior minds preparing for the professions. When education became universal, educators knowing little about the limitations of intellect merely attempted to give all pupils the same course. The assumption was that whatever had been good for the few must be good for the mass. The struggle which the average and dull mind makes in attempting such tasks is pathetic, and not inspirational to themselves nor to others. Yet we are advised that "the interest in these general truths is, in a sense, less natural, more a matter of civilization, and has to be imposed upon the child by a kind of contagious interest felt by another who can see the endless applications of what is universal" (p. 25, but italics mine). Only minds of the greatest intellectual development and capacity are capable of understanding the abstract. The limited few achieve such goals of themselves and with less assistance from another who can see than that "other" will ever know. There is no argument that such tasks, when fully comprehended and understood, do strengthen the will, and develop character. The inconsistency of the monograph consists in part in not recognizing the facts of intelligence and pointing out to teachers that thousands of pupils fall short of that masterful development in themselves because they are unable to master the tasks set before them. The teacher who follows the advice set forth therein in the blind manner which is suggested fails to reach such goals, and in the failure she loses some of that force of character and blames herself unjustly. The reviewer believes firmly in the duty of the school in developing the desirable virtues. He believes that they may be realized only by struggling to the successful completion of tasks with the comprehension of the pupils. Such a program calls for trained minds, free to undertake research to determine just what pupils can actually do. Yet we are warned that "the cry for special training is a cry also for specialists as teachers; and desirable as they are, they will bear watching with specialists it is touch-and-go with their pupils" (p. 68). Immediately thereafter we read that the city school offers little of that leisurely contact with pupils which is so important. Statements in full by the modern city teacher and by the "archaic" teacher as to their knowledge concerning their pupils would be most wholesomely in order at this point. Carried thus far, the argument is absurd, but the buffoonery of the following makes it conclusive: "An erect mind knowing the salient things will do more to quicken and give a right facing to other minds than will a dozen husks of humanity with the entire alphabet in capitals after their names" (p. 69). One wonders how actually "In the World War, men and women who had before been working to their utmost" were able to meet the demand of a trebled task. Finally, in complete consistency with the idea of general powers, one is forced to imagine that the references and index have been printed, since none appear in the monograph. DETROIT PUBLIC SCHOOLS HARRY J. BAKER С. В. ТноMPSON. Mental Disorders. Baltimore: Warwick & York, 1920. Pp. 48. 75 cents. This brochure is of value in giving a brief account of mental disorders, both for those who do not need the more extended treatises, and as a kind of syllabus for students in connection with lectures or clinics. The subtitle "briefly described and classified, with a few remarks on treatment and prevention," aptly characterizes the work. In addition to the general descriptions space is found for brief accounts of cases as illustrations of general statements. Symptoms are explained as comprehensible to us if we could see clues to the workings of the individual's mind," and the patients might be set straight by psychoanalysis by tracing back the "thoughts to the deeper motives from which they have sprung the emotions and instincts underlying our behavior." ST. ELIZABETHS HOSPITAL SHEPHERD IVORY FRANZ L. J. MARTIN. Mental Hygiene: Two Years' Experience of a Clinical Psychologist. Baltimore: Warwick & York, 1920. Pp. viii+89. $1.40. Some of Miss Martin's experiences as a consulting psychologist in San Francisco are detailed in this book. They show, so far as San Francisco and the neighborhood are concerned, that the need for psychological consultation, as distinct from psychiatric consultation, has been felt by the community, medical and lay. They also indicate a similar need in other parts of the country for corresponding psychological consultants. ST. ELIZABETHS HOSPITAL SHEPHERD IVORY FRANZ |