means the setting aside of all valuation in regard to the Intellect and its work would be preposterous.  Bergson, however unguarded his language at times has been, does not mean this.  He does not mean that we must return to the standpoint of the animal or that we must assume that the animal view, which is instinctive, is higher than the view which, through Intellect, gives it a meaning and value to the percipient.  That would involve the rejection of all that our culture has accumulated, all our social heritage from the past, the overthrow of our civilization, the undoing of all that has developed in our world, since man’s Intelligence came into it.  We cannot obtain Intuition without intellectual labour, for it must have an intellectual or scientific basis.  Yet, however valuable Intellect is, it is not final.  “It is reality itself, in the profoundest meaning of the word, that we reach by the combined and progressive development of science and philosophy.” [Footnote:  Creative Evolution, p. 210 (Fr. p. 217).] We need, therefore, if we are to get into touch with the deeper aspects of reality, something more than bare science.  We cannot live on its dry bread alone; we need philosophy—­an intuitional philosophy.

In his brilliant paper L’Intuition philosophique Bergson shows us, by a splendid study of Berkeley and Spinoza, that the great Intuition underlying the thought of a philosopher is of more worth to the world than the logic and dialectic through the aid of which it is made manifest, and elaborated. [Footnote:  He makes this clear in a letter to Dr. Mitchell in the latter’s Studies in Bergson’s Philosophy, p. 31.] Then in the Lectures La Perception du Changement and in his little work on Laughter he sets forth the meaning of Intuition in relation to Art.  From time to time Nature raises up souls more or less detached from practical life, seers of visions and dreamers of dreams, men of Intuition, with powers of great poetry, great music, or great painting.  The clearest evidence of Intuition comes to us from the works of these great artists.  What is it that we call the “genius” of great painters, great musicians, and great poets?  It is simply the power they have of seeing more than we see and of enabling us, by their expressions, to penetrate further into reality ourselves.  What makes the picture is the artist’s vision, his entry into the subject by sympathy or Intuition, and however imperfectly he expresses this, yet he reveals to us more than we could otherwise have perceived.

The original form of consciousness, Bergson asserts, was nearer to Intuition than to Intelligence.  But man has found Intellect the more valuable faculty for practical use and so has used it for the solution of questions it was never intended to solve, by reason of its nature and origin.  Yet “Intuition is there, but vague and, above all, discontinuous.  It is a lamp almost extinguished which only glimmers now and then for a few moments at most.  But it glimmers whenever a vital interest is at stake.  On our personality, on our liberty, on the place we occupy in the whole of Nature, on our origin, and perhaps also on our destiny, it throws a light, feeble and vacillating, but which, none the less, pierces the darkness of the night in which the Intellect leaves us.” [Footnote:  Creative Evolution, p. 282 (Fr. p. 290).]