"Philosophy", wrote R. G. Collingwood, "has this peculiarity, that reflection upon it is part of itself. The theory of poetry may or may not be of service to a poet—opinions on that question have differed—but it is not part of poetry. The theory of science and the theory of history are not parts of science and of history; if scientists and historians study these things, they study them not in their capacity as scientists or historians, but in their capacity as philosophers. But the theory of philosophy is itself a problem for philosophy; and not only a possible problem, but an inevitable problem, one which sooner or later it is bound to raise ¹." Any definition of philosophy, then, any effort to determine its proper scope and limits, any attempt to fix its essential task or locate its cardinal questions is itself a philosophic act and reflects, implicitly at least, some order of philosophic commitment. Philosophy is problematic to itself, and the philosopher is involved in a perennial struggle to illuminate the initial paradox of coming to terms with his own discipline. An historical approach to the traditional problems of philosophy is a science of beginnings, it is a radical attempt to re-view again and again the question of what it means to have a world, to be in a world, and to wonder about one's experience of a world. The triad of questioner, question, and the questioned may provide a clue to the unique dimension of philosophic concern.