John Smith

Another question arising in this connection is, can we, on such a view, make room for such human experiences as "forgiveness"; can we meaningfully speak of "making good" an evil past? On the face of it there would seem to be possible only the one answer implied by Mr. Weiss' position; no. The past is past and as such is sheer fact without becoming. What then shall we make of a notion like that of atonement? Does this idea, if interpretable at all, point merely to a change taking place in some present or to take place in some future? Does it involve merely a change in knowledge, interpretation, consciousness, so that while it is admittedly a genuine change related to a determinate past, it is in no sense a change in the past?

America's brash approach to philosophy, with its overemphasis on novelty but also deep concern for philosophy's connection with human life and destiny, gives rise to a type of thought which appears as without thoroughness or polish and as far removed from what the Germans like to call grundsätzlich. And indeed it must be admitted that few American thinkers have attempted to express a philosophic vision on the comprehensive scale of most classical philosophers. What we have lost in scope, however, we have made up in precision; and one need have no hesitation in pointing to Peirce as an example of a philosopher second to none in his ability to formulate an idea with precision. Whatever the reasons, the main point is that American philosophy has invariably seemed negligible to Europeans, and they have not bothered to study it.

In these previously uncollected essays, Smith argues that American philosophers like Peirce, James, Royce, and Dewey have forged a unique philosophical tradition—one that is rich and complex enough to represent a genuine alternative to the analytic, phenomenological, and hermeneutical traditions which have originated in Britain or Europe. "In my judgment, John Smith has no equal today in combining two scholarly qualities: the analysis of philosophical texts with penetration and rigor, and the discernment of what it is in these texts that matters. These qualities are in evidence throughout the essays in _America's Philosophical Vision._ Whether he is evaluating Rorty's view of Dewey; the pragmatic theory of experience and truth; theories of freedom, creativity, and the self; Royce's conception of community; or synoptic philosophic visions, Smith always succeeds in uniting a comprehensive understanding of philosophic writings with a sure grasp of their import for human culture and aspiration. It is a great benefit to students of American thought that these papers have now been collected into one volume."—James Gouinlock, Emory University.

Despite the frivolous note implied in the popular expression, ‘The Greeks had a word for it’, the literal truth is that they did! Time and again we find reflected in the terminology developed by these ancient seekers after wisdom, an attention to important distinctions and a faithfulness to the details of actual experience which are truly remarkable. The Greek thinkers had, as every classical scholar and student of Greek philosophy knows, a finely developed philosophical language, one sensitive no less to the unusual, pregnant experience than to the familiar details of ordinary life.

Let it be clear at the outset that in reappraising Dewey's thought we have to do with no minute philosopher. In breadth of interest and range of thought he belongs with the great comprehensive thinkers of the past. And in contrast to many thinkers both in his own time and since, he had a constructive program. Philosophy for him meant more than analysis, even though analysis is an important part of the philosophic enterprise. Dewey's constructive philosophy has too often been lost in polemic discussion. I subscribe to the confession made some years ago by Ernest Hocking in which he said that he began to understand Dewey when he started reading him for enjoyment and not for the purpose of showing that he was all wrong! As Dewey's work shapes up in historical perspective, it assumes a great substantiality. One may disagree and one may correct, but in comparison with philosophy of a wholly technical and professional sort, Dewey's large-minded approach to genuinely philosophic questions places him among philosophers of stature.

For a variety of reasons stemming from the domination of the rationalist stance in western civilization, it came to be felt that the immediate--whether in the form of the esthetic, the shock of existing or just "being there," direct encounter, or the thrill of the moment--is in need of being preserved inviolate from the forms of articulation. And the underlying assumption prompting such concern for the immediate was that articulation is somehow alien to Being in the sense that passage from the immediate via signs and meanings inevitably distorts, impoverishes and, in some fundamental way, transforms it beyond recognition. The sense of impoverishment coupled with a cosmic sorrow in the face of such a loss has led to celebration of the immediate, a more or less desperate attempt to hold fast to what cannot be said or articulated. Much of the mindlessness manifested in modern life is to be traced back to this celebration of immediacy as such.

F. H. Bradley has assured us that where all is bad it must be good to know the worst. In the case before us the worst is that Jonathan Edwards, from whatever perspective he is viewed, represents an imposing enigma. I confess at the outset that the enigma is one I am unable entirely to dispel, although I am confident that I can explain what is enigmatic about his thought, his approach, his caste of mind, and that I can do so "not through a glass darkly." The central problem is this: Edwards, on the one hand, accepted totally the tradition established by the Reformers with respect to the absolute primacy and authority of the Bible, and he could approach the biblical writings with that conviction of their inerrancy and literal truth which one usually associates with Protestant fundamentalism. On the other hand, Edwards insisted vigorously on the criteria of reason and experience, and he was without equal on the American scene up to the time of Charles Peirce in his capacity for philosophical analysis, for sustaining a logical argument, and for expressing his conclusions with the most painstaking attention to subtle nuances of meaning and rhetorical effectiveness. Moreover, he insisted on the use of philosophical concepts and principles in considering the "things of religion" and his speculations about creation, his estheticism, and pantheism caused deep anxiety in the minds of traditional Calvinists, whose theology was as literal as their biblical exegesis. This double-barrelled character of his approach has led critics to define him as a reactionary and "medieval" thinker who had lost touch with those currents of thought which would eventually lead to the "modern" point of view. Without pausing to evaluate that charge at this point, one thing at least is clear: in relation to his contemporaries Edwards was alone in his attempt to make the religious tradition intelligible in those philosophical terms first laid down by Augustine and Anselm in their enterprise of "faith seeking understanding."

IN A PREVIOUS study entitled, "Time, Times and the 'Right Time': Chronos and Kairos," I explored the distinction between these two aspects of time and their relations to each other. I wish to return to the topic in this paper, building on my previous discussion but bringing in some new dimensions that were unknown to me earlier on. I did not know, for example, that kairos, although it has metaphysical, historical, ethical and esthetic applications, is a concept whose original home, so to speak, was in the ancient rhetorical traditions. A recent study is aimed at recovering this important idea in the present situation. It is not insignificant that, while kairos has important philosophical implications, students of rhetoric have not been alone in neglecting it as can be seen from the fact that it is not listed in the four volume Dictionary of the History of Ideas, edited by Philip Wiener, nor is it to be found in The Great Ideas: A Syntopicon, edited by Mortimer Adler. One reason for the omission is no doubt the absence of any cognate word in English for kairos whereas its partner, chronos, appears in a host of forms throughout any English dictionary. The only exception that occurs to me is the quite rare word 'Kairotic' which is listed only in the most complete dictionaries. The loss of the concept of kairos is doubly unfortunate for, on the one hand, the idea has been of enormous significance in the past figuring essentially, for instance, in the religious traditions of the West, and, on the other hand, it expresses a most important feature of temporal process which, despite exceptions here and there, is not expressed in the concept of chronos. It is with these facts in mind that I am attempting to rehabilitate, as it were, the kairos aspect of time and to show its philosophical importance.