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diff --git a/old/47658-8.txt b/old/47658-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e0d4940..0000000 --- a/old/47658-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3157 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Problem of Truth, by H. Wildon Carr - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Problem of Truth - -Author: H. Wildon Carr - -Release Date: December 13, 2014 [EBook #47658] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PROBLEM OF TRUTH *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - - - - - THE - - PROBLEM OF TRUTH - - - BY H. WILDON CARR - - HONORARY D.LITT., DURHAM - - - - LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK - 67 LONG ACRE, W.C., AND EDINBURGH - NEW YORK: DODGE PUBLISHING CO. - - - - -{v} - -PREFACE - -A problem of philosophy is completely different from a problem of -science. In science we accept our subject-matter as it is presented in -unanalysed experience; in philosophy we examine the first principles -and ultimate questions that concern conscious experience itself. The -problem of truth is a problem of philosophy. It is not a problem of -merely historical interest, but a present problem--a living -controversy, the issue of which is undecided. Its present interest may -be said to centre round the doctrine of pragmatism, which some fifteen -years ago began to challenge the generally accepted principles of -philosophy. In expounding this problem of truth, my main purpose has -been to make clear to the reader the nature of a problem of philosophy -and to disclose the secret of its interest. My book presumes no -previous study of philosophy nor special knowledge of its problems. -The theories that I have shown in conflict on this question are, each -of them, held by some of the leaders of philosophy. In presenting -them, therefore, I have tried to let the full dialectical force of the -argument appear. I have indicated my own view, that the direction in -which the solution lies is in the new conception of life and the theory -of knowledge given to us in the philosophy of Bergson. If I am right, -the solution is not, like pragmatism, a doctrine of the nature of -truth, but a theory of knowledge in which {vi} the dilemma in regard to -truth does not arise. But, as always in philosophy, the solution of -one problem is the emergence of another. There is no finality. - -My grateful acknowledgment is due to my friend Professor S. Alexander, -who kindly read my manuscript and assisted me with most valuable -suggestions, and also to my friend Dr. T. Percy Nunn for a similar -service. - -H. WILDON CARR. - - - - -{vii} - - CONTENTS - - CHAP. - - I. PHYSICS AND METAPHYSICS - II. APPEARANCE AND REALITY - III. THE LOGICAL THEORIES - IV. THE ABSOLUTE - V. PRAGMATISM - VI. UTILITY - VII. ILLUSION - VIII. THE PROBLEM OF ERROR - IX. CONCLUSION - BIBLIOGRAPHY - INDEX - - - - -{9} - -THE PROBLEM OF TRUTH - - - - -CHAPTER I - -PHYSICS AND METAPHYSICS - -The progress of physical science leads to the continual discovery of -complexity in what is first apprehended as simple. The atom of -hydrogen, so long accepted as the ideal limit of simplicity, is now -suspected to be not the lowest unit in the scale of elements, and it is -no longer conceived, as it used to be, as structureless, but as an -individual system, comparable to a solar system, of electrical -components preserving an equilibrium probably only temporary. The same -tendency to discover complexity in what is first apprehended as simple -is evident in the study of philosophy. The more our simple and -ordinary notions are submitted to analysis, the more are profound -problems brought to consciousness. It is impossible to think that we -do not know what such an ordinary, simple notion as that of truth is; -yet the attempt to give a definition of its meaning brings quite -unexpected difficulties to light, and the widest divergence at the -present time between rival principles of philosophical interpretation -is in regard to a theory of the nature of truth. It is not a problem -that is pressed on us by any felt need, nor is anyone who does not feel -its interest called upon to occupy himself with it. We speak our -language before we know its {10} grammar, and we reason just as well -whether we have learnt the science of logic or not. - -This science of Logic, or, as it is sometimes called, of Formal Logic, -was, until modern times, regarded as a quite simple account of the -principles that govern the exercise of our reasoning faculty, and of -the rules founded on those principles by following which truth was -attained and false opinion or error avoided. It was called formal -because it was supposed to have no relation to the matter of the -subject reasoned about, but only to the form which the reasoning must -take. A complete account of this formal science, as it was recognised -and accepted for many ages, might easily have been set forth within the -limits of a small volume such as this. But the development of modern -philosophy has wrought an extraordinary change. Anyone now who will -set himself the task of mastering all the problems that have been -raised round the question of the nature of logical process, will find -himself confronted with a vast library of special treatises, and -involved in discussions that embrace the whole of philosophy. The -special problem of truth that it is the object of this little volume to -explain is a quite modern question. It has been raised within the -present generation of philosophical writers, and is to-day, perhaps, -the chief controversy in which philosophers are engaged. But although -it is only in the last few years that controversy has been aroused on -this question, the problem is not new--it is indeed as old as -philosophy itself. In the fifth century before Christ, and in the -generation that immediately preceded Socrates, a famous philosopher, -Protagoras (481-411 B.C.) published a book with the title _The Truth_. -He had the misfortune, common at that time, to offend the religious -Athenians, {11} for he spoke slightingly of the gods, proposing to -"banish their existence or non-existence from writing and speech." He -was convicted of atheism, and his books were publicly burnt, and he -himself, then seventy years of age, was either banished or at least was -obliged to flee from Athens, and on his way to Sicily he lost his life -in a shipwreck. Our knowledge of this book of Protagoras is due to the -preservation of its argument by Plato in the dialogue "Theætetus." -Protagoras, we are there told, taught that "man is the measure of all -things--of the existence of things that are, and of the non-existence -of things that are not." "You have read him?" asks Socrates, -addressing Theætetus. "Oh yes, again and again," is Theætetus' reply. -Plato was entirely opposed to the doctrine that Protagoras taught. It -seemed to him to bring gods and men and tadpoles to one level as far as -truth was concerned; for he drew the deduction that if man is the -measure of all things, then to each man his own opinion is right. -Plato opposed to it the theory that truth is the vision of a pure -objective reality. - -This same problem that exercised the ancient world is now again a chief -centre of philosophical interest, and the aim of this little book is -not to decide that question, but to serve as a guide and introduction -to those who desire to know what the question is that divides -philosophers to-day into the hostile camps of pragmatism and -intellectualism. - -The subject is not likely to interest anyone who does not care for the -study of the exact definitions and abstract principles that lie at the -basis of science and philosophy. There are many who are engaged in the -study of the physical and natural sciences, and also many who devote -themselves to the social and political {12} sciences, who hold in -profound contempt the fine distinctions and intellectual subtleties -that seem to them the whole content of logic and metaphysic. The -attitude of the scientific mind is not difficult to understand. It has -recently been rather graphically expressed by a distinguished and -popular exponent of the principles of natural science. "One may regard -the utmost possibilities of the results of human knowledge as the -contents of a bracket, and place outside the bracket the factor _x_ to -represent those unknown and unknowable possibilities which the -imagination of man is never wearied of suggesting. This factor _x_ is -the plaything of the metaphysician."[1] This mathematical symbol of -the bracket, multiplied by _x_ to represent the unknown and unknowable -possibilities beyond it, will serve me to indicate with some exactness -the problem with which I am going to deal. The symbol is an expression -of the agnostic position. The popular caricature of the metaphysician -and his "plaything" we may disregard as a pure fiction. The unknowable -_x_ of the agnostic is not the "meta" or "beyond" of physics which the -metaphysician vainly seeks to know. The only "beyond" of physics is -consciousness or experience itself, and this is the subject-matter of -metaphysics. Our present problem is that of the bracket, not that of -the factor outside, if there is any such factor, nor yet the particular -nature of the contents within. There are, as we shall see, three views -that are possible of the nature of the bracket. In one view, it is -merely the conception of the extent which knowledge has attained or can -attain; it has no intimate relation to the knowledge, but marks -externally its limit. This is the view of the realist. In another -view, the whole of knowledge is intimately related {13} to its -particular parts; the things we know are not a mere collection or -aggregate of independent facts that we have discovered; the bracket -which contains our knowledge gives form to it, and relates organically -the dependent parts to the whole in one comprehensive individual -system. This is the view of the idealist. There is yet another view: -human knowledge is relative to human activity and its needs; the -bracket is the ever-changing limit of that activity--within it is all -that is relevant to human purpose and personality without it is all -that is irrelevant. This is the view of the pragmatist. - -It is not only the scientific mind, but also the ethical and religious -mind, that is likely to be at least impatient, if not contemptuous, of -this inquiry. The question What is truth? will probably bring to -everyone's mind the words uttered by a Roman Procurator at the supreme -moment of a great world-tragedy. Pilate's question is usually -interpreted as the cynical jest of a judge indifferent to the -significance of the great cause he was trying--the expression of the -belief that there is no revelation of spiritual truth of the highest -importance for our human nature, or at least that there is no -infallible test by which it can be known. It is not this problem of -truth that we are now to discuss. - -There are, on the other hand, many minds that can never rest satisfied -while they have accepted only, and not examined, the assumptions of -science and the values of social and political and religious ideals. -Their quest of first principles may appear to more practical natures a -harmless amusement or a useless waste of intellectual energy; but they -are responding to a deep need of our human nature, a need that, it may -be, is in its very nature insatiable--the need of intellectual -satisfaction. It is {14} the nature of this intellectual satisfaction -itself that is our problem of truth. - -There are therefore two attitudes towards the problem of truth and -reality--that of the mind which brings a practical test to every -question, and that of the mind restless to gain by insight or by -speculation a clue to the mystery that enshrouds the meaning of -existence. The first attitude seems peculiarly to characterise the man -of science, who delights to think that the problem of reality is simple -and open to the meanest understanding. Between the plain man's view -and that of the man of high attainment in scientific research there is -for him only a difference of degree, and science seems almost to -require an apology if it does not directly enlarge our command over -nature. It would explain life and consciousness as the result of -chemical combination of material elements. Philosophy, on the other -hand, is the instinctive feeling that the secret of the universe is not -open and revealed to the plain man guided by common-sense experience -alone, even if to this experience be added the highest attainments of -scientific research. Either there is far more in matter than is -contained in the three-dimensional space it occupies, or else the -universe must owe its development to something beyond matter. The -universe must seem a poor thing indeed to a man who can think that -physical science does or can lay bare its meaning. It is the intense -desire to catch some glimpse of its meaning that leads the philosopher -to strive to transcend the actual world by following the speculative -bent of the reasoning power that his intellectual nature makes possible. - - -[1] Sir Kay Lankester. - - - - -{15} - -CHAPTER II - -APPEARANCE AND REALITY - -Our conscious life is one unceasing change. From the first awakening -of consciousness to the actual present, no one moment has been the mere -repetition of another, and the moments which as we look back seem to -have made up our life are not separable elements of it but our own -divisions of a change that has been continuous. And as it has been, so -we know it will be until consciousness ceases with death. -Consciousness and life are in this respect one and the same, although -when we speak of our consciousness we think chiefly of a passive -receptivity, and when we speak of our life we think of an activity. -Consciousness as the unity of knowing and acting is a becoming. The -past is not left behind, it is with us in the form of memory; the -future is not a predetermined order which only a natural disability -prevents us from knowing, it is yet uncreated; conscious life is the -enduring present which grows with the past and makes the future. - -This reality of consciousness is our continually changing experience. -But there is also another reality with which it seems to be in -necessary relation and also in complete contrast--this is the reality -of the material or physical universe. The world of physical reality -seems to be composed of a matter that cannot change in a space that is -absolutely unchangeable. This physical world seems made up of solid -things, formed out of matter. Change in physical science is only a -rearrangement of matter or an alteration of position in space. - -This physical reality is not, as psychical reality is, {16} known to us -directly; it is an interpretation of our sense experience. Immediate -experience has objects, generally called sense data. These objects are -what we actually see in sensations of sight, what we actually hear in -sensations of sound, and so on; and they lead us to suppose or infer -physical objects--that is, objects that do not depend upon our -experience for their existence, but whose existence is the cause of our -having the experience. The process by which we infer the nature of the -external world from our felt experience is logical. It includes -perceiving, conceiving, thinking or reasoning. The object of the -logical process, the aim or ideal to which it seeks to attain, is -truth. Knowledge of reality is truth. - -There are therefore two realities, the reality of our felt experience -from which all thinking sets out, and the reality which in thinking we -seek to know. The one reality is immediate; it is conscious experience -itself. The other reality is that which we infer from the fact of -experience, that by which we seek to explain our existence. The one we -feel, the other we think. If the difference between immediate -knowledge and mediate knowledge or inference lay in the feeling of -certainty alone or in the nature of belief, the distinction would not -be the difficult one that it is. The theories of idealism and realism -show how widely philosophers are divided on the subject. We are quite -as certain of some of the things that we can only infer as we are of -the things of which we are immediately aware. Wd cannot doubt, for -instance, that there are other persons besides ourselves, yet we can -have no distinct knowledge of any consciousness but one--our own. Our -knowledge that there are other minds is an inference from our -observation of the behaviour of some of the things we {17} directly -experience, and from the experience of our own consciousness. And even -those things which seem in direct relation to us--the things we see, or -hear, or touch--are immediately present in only a very small, perhaps -an infinitesimal, part of what we know and think of as their full -reality; all but this small part is inferred. From a momentary -sensation of sight, or sound, or touch we infer reality that far -exceeds anything actually given to us by the sensation. - -Thinking is questioning experience. When our attention is suddenly -attracted by something--a flash of light, or a sound, or a twinge of -pain--consciously or unconsciously we say to ourself, What is that? -The _that_--a simple felt experience--contains a meaning, brings a -message, and we ask _what_? We distinguish the existence as an -appearance, and we seek to know the reality. The quest of the reality -which is made known to us by the appearance is the logical process of -thought. The end or purpose of this logical process is to replace the -immediate reality of the felt experience with a mediated-reality--that -is, a reality made known to us. Directly, therefore, that we begin to -think, the immediately present existence becomes an appearance, and -throughout the development of our thought it is taken to be something -that requires explanation. We seek to discover the reality which will -explain it. - -It is in this distinction of appearance and reality that the problem of -truth arises. It does not depend upon any particular theory of -knowledge. The same fact is recognised by idealists and by realists. -Idealism may deny that the knowledge of independent reality is -possible; realism may insist that it is implied in the very fact of -consciousness itself--whichever is right, the reality which thinking -brings before the mind is quite {18} unlike and of a different order to -that which we immediately experience in feeling. And even if we know -nothing of philosophy, if we are ignorant of all theories of knowledge -and think of the nature of knowledge simply from the standpoint of the -natural man, the fact is essentially the same--the true reality of -things is something concealed from outward view, something to be found -out by science or by practical wisdom. Our knowledge of this reality -may be true, in this case only is it knowledge; or it may be false, in -which case it is not knowledge but opinion or error. - -The reality then, the knowledge of which is truth, is not the immediate -reality of feeling but the inferred reality of thought. To have any -intelligible meaning, the affirmation that knowledge is true supposes -that there already exists a distinction between knowledge and the -reality known, between the being and the knowing of that which is -known. In immediate knowledge, in actual conscious felt experience -there is no such distinction, and therefore to affirm truth or error of -such knowledge is unmeaning. I cannot have a toothache without knowing -that I have it. In the actual felt toothache knowing and being are not -only inseparable--they are indistinguishable. If, however, I think of -my toothache as part of an independent order of reality, my knowledge -of it may be true or false. I am then thinking of it as the effect of -an exposed nerve, or of an abscess or of an inflammation--as something, -that is to say, that is conditioned independently of my consciousness -and that will cease to exist when the conditions are altered. In the -same way, when I behold a landscape, the blue expanse of sky and -variegated colour of the land which I actually experience are not -either true or false, they are immediate experience in {19} which -knowing is being and being is knowing. Truth and error only apply to -the interpretation of that experience, to the independent reality that -I infer from it. We can, then, distinguish two kinds of knowledge -which we may call immediate and mediate, or, better still, acquaintance -and description. Accordingly, when we say that something is, or when -we say of anything that it if real, we may mean either of two things. -We may mean that it is part of the changing existence that we actually -feel and that we call consciousness or life, or we may mean that it is -part of an independent order of things whose existence we think about -in order to explain, not what our feeling is (there can be no -explanation of this), but how it comes to exist. We know by -description a vast number of things with which we never can be actually -acquainted. Such, indeed, is the case with all the knowledge by which -we rule our lives and conceive the reality which environs us. Yet we -are absolutely dependent on the reality we know by acquaintance for all -our knowledge of these things. Not only is immediate sense experience -and the knowledge it gives us by acquaintance the only evidence we have -of the greater and wider reality, but we are dependent on it for the -terms wherewith to describe it, for the form in which to present it, -for the matter with which to compose it. And this is the real ground -of the study of philosophy, the justification of its standpoint. It is -this fact--this ultimate undeniable fact--that all reality of whatever -kind and in whatever way known, whether by thought or by feeling, -whether it is perceived or conceived, remembered or imagined, is in the -end composed of sense experience: it is this fact from which all the -problems of philosophy arise. It is this fact that our utilitarian men -of science find {20} themselves forced to recognise, however scornful -they may be of metaphysical methods and results. - -The special problem of the nature of truth is concerned, then, with the -reality that we have distinguished as known by description, and -conceived by us as independent in its existence of the consciousness by -which we know it. What is the nature of the seal by which we stamp -this knowledge true? - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE LOGICAL THEORIES - -Whoever cares to become acquainted with the difficulty of the problem -of truth must not be impatient of dialectical subtleties. There is a -well-known story in Boswell's _Life of Dr. Johnson_ which relates how -the Doctor refuted Berkeley's philosophy which affirmed the -non-existence of matter. "I observed," says Boswell, "that though we -are satisfied his doctrine is not true, it is impossible to refute it. -I shall never forget the alacrity with which Johnson answered, striking -his foot with mighty force against a large stone, till he rebounded -from it--'I refute it _thus_.'" Dr. Johnson is the representative of -robust common sense. It has very often turned out in metaphysical -disputes that the common-sense answer is the one that has been -justified in the end. Those who are impatient of metaphysics are, -therefore, not without reasonable ground; and indeed the strong belief -that the common-sense view will be justified in the end, however -powerful the sceptical doubt that seems to contradict it, however -startling the paradox that seems to be involved in it, is a possession -of the human mind without which the ordinary {21} practical conduct of -life would be impossible. When, then, we ask ourselves, What is truth? -the answer seems to be simple and obvious. Truth, we reply, is a -property of certain of our ideas; it means their agreement, as falsity -means their disagreement, with reality. If I say of anything that it -is so, then, if it is so, what I say is true; if it is not so, then -what I say is false. This simple definition of truth is one that is -universally accepted. No one really can deny it, for if he did he -would have nothing to appeal to to justify his own theory or condemn -another. The problem of truth is only raised when we ask, What does -the agreement of an idea with reality mean? If the reader will ask -himself that question, and carefully ponder it, he will see that there -is some difficulty in the answer to the simple question, What is truth? -The answer that will probably first of all suggest itself is that the -idea is a copy of the reality. And at once many experiences will seem -to confirm this view. Thus when we look at a landscape we know that -the lines of light which radiate from every point of it pass through -the lens of each of our eyes to be focussed on the retina, forming -there a small picture which is the exact counterpart of the reality. -If we look into another person's eye we may see there a picture of the -whole field of his vision reflected from his lens. It is true that -what we see is not what he sees, for that is on his retina, but the -analogy of this with a photographic camera, where we see the picture on -the ground glass, seems obvious and natural; and so we think of -knowledge, so far as it depends on the sense of vision, as consisting -in more or less vivid, more or less faded, copies of real things stored -up by the memory. But a very little reflection will convince us that -the truth of our ideas cannot consist in the fact {22} that they are -copies of realities, for clearly they are not copies in any possible -meaning of the term. Take, for example, this very illustration of -seeing a landscape: what we see is not a picture or copy of the -landscape, but the real landscape itself. We feel quite sure of this, -and with regard to the other sensations, those that come to us by -hearing, taste, smell, touch, it would seem highly absurd to suppose -that the ideas these sensations produce in us are copies of real -things. The pain of burning is not a copy of real fire, and the truth -of the judgment, Fire burns, does not consist in the fact that the -ideas denoted by the words "fire," "burns," faithfully copy certain -real things which are not ideas. And the whole notion is seen to be -absurd if we consider that, were it a fact that real things produce -copies of themselves in our mind, we could never know it was so--all -that we should have any knowledge of would be the copies, and whether -these were like or unlike the reality, or indeed whether there was any -reality for them to be like would, in the nature of the case, be -unknowable, and we could never ask the question. - -If, then, our ideas are not copies of things, and if there are things -as well as ideas about things, it is quite clear that the ideas must -correspond to the things in some way that does not make them copies of -the things. The most familiar instance of correspondence is the -symbolism we use in mathematics. Are our ideas of this nature? And is -their truth their correspondence? Is a perfectly true idea one in -which there exists a point to point correspondence to the reality it -represents? At once there will occur to the mind a great number of -instances where this seems to be the case. A map of England is not a -copy of England such as, for example, a photograph might be if we were -to imagine it taken {23} from the moon. The correctness or the truth -of a map consists in the correspondence between the reality and the -diagram, which is an arbitrary sign of it. Throughout the whole of our -ordinary life we find that we make use of symbols and signs that are -not themselves either parts of or copies of the things for which they -stand. Language itself is of this nature, and there may be symbols of -symbols of symbols of real things. Written language is the arbitrary -visual sign of spoken language, and spoken language is the arbitrary -sign, it may be, of an experienced thing or of an abstract idea. Is, -then, this property of our ideas which we call truth the correspondence -of ideas with their objects, and is falsity the absence of this -correspondence? It cannot be so. To imagine that ideas can correspond -with realities is to forget that ideas simply are the knowledge of -realities; it is to slip into the notion that we know two kinds of -different things, first realities and secondly ideas, and that we can -compare together these two sorts of things. But it is at once evident -that if we could know realities without ideas, we should never need to -have recourse to ideas. It is simply ridiculous to suppose that the -relation between consciousness and reality which we call knowing is the -discovery of a correspondence between mental ideas and real things. -The two things that are related together in knowledge are not the idea -and its object, but the mind and its object. The idea of the object is -the knowledge of the object. There may be correspondence between -ideas, but not between ideas and independent things, for that supposes -that the mind knows the ideas and also knows the things and observes -the correspondence between them. And even if we suppose that ideas are -an independent kind of entity distinguishable and separable from -another kind {24} of entity that forms the real world, how could we -know that the two corresponded, for the one would only be inferred from -the other? - -There is, however, a form of the correspondence theory of truth that is -presented in a way which avoids this difficulty. Truth, it is said, is -concerned not with the nature of things themselves but with our -judgments about them. Judgment is not concerned with the terms that -enter into relation--these are immediately experienced and -ultimate--but with the relations in which they stand to one another. -Thus, when we say John is the father of James, the truth of our -judgment does not consist in the adequacy of our ideas of John and -James, nor in the correspondence of our ideas with the realities, but -is concerned only with the relation that is affirmed to exist between -them. This relation is declared to be independent of or at least -external to the terms, and, so far as it is expressed in a judgment, -truth consists in its actual correspondence with fact. So if I say -John is the father of James, then, if John is the father of James, the -judgment is true, the affirmation is a truth; if he is not, it is -false, the affirmation is a falsehood. This view has the merit of -simplicity, and is sufficiently obvious almost to disarm criticism. -There is, indeed, little difficulty in accepting it if we are able to -take the view of the nature of the real universe which it assumes. The -theory is best described as pluralistic realism. It is the view that -the universe consists of or is composed of an aggregate of an infinite -number of entities. Some of these have a place in the space and time -series, and these exist. Some, on the other hand, are possibilities -which have not and may never have any actual existence. Entities that -have their place in the perceptual order of experience exist, {25} or -have existed, or will exist; but entities that are concepts, such as -goodness, beauty, truth, or that are abstract symbols like numbers, -geometrical figures, pure forms, do not exist, but are none the less -just as real as the entities that do exist. These entities are the -subject-matter of our judgments, and knowing is discovering the -relations in which they stand to one another. The whole significance -of this view lies in the doctrine that relations are external to the -entities that are related--they do not enter into and form part of the -nature of the entities. The difficulty of this view is just this -externality of the relation. It seems difficult to conceive what -nature is left in any entity deprived of all its relations. The -relation of father and son in the judgment, John is the father of -James, is so far part of the nature of the persons John and James, that -if the judgment is false then to that extent John and James are not the -actual persons John and James that they are thought to be. And this is -the case even in so purely external a relation as is expressed, say, in -the judgment, Edinburgh is East of Glasgow. It is difficult to discuss -any relation which can be said to be entirely indifferent to the nature -of its terms, and it is doubtful if anything whatever would be left of -a term abstracted from all its relations. - -These difficulties have led to the formulation of an altogether -different theory, namely, the theory that truth does not consist in -correspondence between ideas and their real counterparts, but in the -consistence and internal harmony of the ideas themselves. It is named -the coherence theory. It will be recognised at once that there is very -much in common experience to support it. It is by the test of -consistency and coherence that we invariably judge the truth of -evidence. {26} Also it seems a very essential part of our intellectual -nature to reject as untrue and false any statement or any idea that is -self-contradictory or irreconcilable with the world of living -experience. But then, on the other hand, we by no means allow that -that must be true which does not exhibit logical contradiction and -inconsistency. It is a common enough experience that ideas prove false -though they have exhibited no inherent failure to harmonise with -surrounding circumstances nor any self-contradiction. The theory, -therefore, requires more than a cursory examination. - -Thinking is the activity of our mind which discovers the order, -arrangement, and system in the reality that the senses reveal. Without -thought, our felt experience would be a chaos and not a world. The -philosopher Kant expressed this by saying that the understanding gives -unity to the manifold of sense. The understanding, he said, makes -nature. It does this by giving form to the matter which comes to it by -the senses. The mind is not a _tabula rasa_ upon which the external -world makes and leaves impressions, it is a relating activity which -arranges the matter it receives in forms. First of all there are space -and time, which are forms in which we receive all perceptual -experience, and then there are categories that are conceptual frames or -moulds by which we think of everything we experience as having definite -relations and belonging to a real order of existence. Substance, -causality, quality, and quantity are categories; they are universal -forms in which the mind arranges sense experience, and which constitute -the laws of nature, the order of the world. Space and time, and the -categories of the understanding Kant declared to be -transcendental--that is to say, they are the elements necessary to -experience which are not {27} themselves derived from experience, as, -for example, that every event has a cause. There are, he declared, -synthetic _a priori_ judgments--that is, judgments about experience -which are not themselves derived from experience, but, on the contrary, -the conditions that make experience possible. It is from this doctrine -of Kant that the whole of modern idealism takes its rise. Kant, -indeed, held that there are things-in-themselves, and to this extent he -was not himself an idealist, but he also held that things-in-themselves -are unknowable, and this is essentially the idealist position. -Clearly, if we hold the view that things-in-themselves are unknowable, -truth cannot be a correspondence between our ideas and these -things-in-themselves. Truth must be some quality of the ideas -themselves, and this can only be their logical consistency. -Consistency, because the ideas must be in agreement with one another; -and logical, because this consistency belongs to the thinking, and -logic is the science of thinking. Truth, in effect, is the ideal of -logical consistency. We experience in thinking an activity striving to -attain the knowledge of reality, and the belief, the feeling of -satisfaction that we experience when our thinking seems to attain the -knowledge of reality, is the harmony, the absence of contradiction, the -coherence, of our ideas themselves. This is the coherence theory. Let -us see what it implies as to the ultimate nature of truth and reality. - -In both the theories we have now examined, truth is a logical character -of ideas. In the correspondence theory there is indeed supposed a -non-logical reality, but it is only in the ideas that there is the -conformity or correspondence which constitutes their truth. In the -coherence theory, reality is itself ideal, and the {28} ultimate ground -of everything is logical. This is the theory of truth that accords -with the idealist view, and this view finds its most perfect expression -in the theory of the Absolute. The Absolute is the idea of an object -that realises perfect logical consistency. This object logic itself -creates; if it be a necessary existence, then knowledge of it cannot be -other than truth. This view, on account of the supreme position that -it assigns to the intellect, and of the fundamental character with -which it invests the logical categories, has been named by those who -oppose it Intellectualism. It is important that it should be clearly -understood, and the next chapter will be devoted to its exposition. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -THE ABSOLUTE - -A comparison of the two theories of truth examined in the last chapter -will show that, whereas both rest on a logical quality in ideas, the -first depends on an external view taken by the mind of an independent -non-mental reality, whereas the second depends on the discovery of an -inner meaning in experience itself. It is this inner meaning of -experience that we seek to know when asking any question concerning -reality. It is the development of this view, and what it implies as to -the ultimate nature of reality and truth, that we are now to examine. - -When we ask questions about reality, we assume in the very inquiry that -reality is of a nature that experience reveals. Reality in its -ultimate nature may be logical--that is to say, of the nature of -reason, or it may {29} be non-logical--that is to say, of the nature of -feeling or will; but in either case it must be a nature of which -conscious experience can give us knowledge. If indeed we hold the view -which philosophers have often endeavoured to formulate, that reality is -unknowable, then there is no more to be said; for, whatever the picture -or the blank for a picture by which the mind tries to present this -unknowable reality, there can be no question in relation to it of the -nature and meaning of truth. An unknowable reality, as we shall show -later on, is to all intents and purposes non-existent reality. On the -other hand, if thinking leads to the knowledge of reality that we call -truth, it is because being and knowing are ultimately one, and this -unity can only be in conscious experience. This is the axiom on which -the idealist argument is based. - -The theory of the Absolute is a logical argument of great dialectical -force. It is not an exaggeration to say that it is the greatest -dialectical triumph of modern philosophy. It is the most successful -expression of idealism. That this is not an extravagant estimate is -shown, I think, by the fact that, widespread and determined as is the -opposition it has had to encounter, criticism has been directed not so -much against its logic as against the basis of intellectualism on which -it rests. The very boldness of its claim and brilliance of its triumph -lead to the suspicion that the intellect cannot be the sole determining -factor of the ultimate nature of reality. - -It will be easier to understand the theory of the Absolute if we first -of all notice, for the sake of afterwards comparing it, another -argument very famous in the history of philosophy--the argument to -prove the existence of God named after St. Anselm of Canterbury. {30} -It runs thus: We have in God the idea of a perfect being; the idea of a -perfect being includes the existence of that being, for not to exist is -to fall short of perfection; therefore God exists. The theological -form of this argument need raise no prejudice against it. It is of -very great intrinsic importance, and if it is wrong it is not easy to -point out wherein the fallacy lies. It may, of course, be denied that -we have or can have the idea of a perfect being--that is to say, that -we can present that idea to the mind with a positive content or meaning -as distinct from a merely negative or limiting idea. But this is -practically to admit the driving force of the argument, namely, that -there may be an idea of whose content or meaning existence forms part. -With regard to everything else the idea of existing is not existence. -There is absolutely no difference between the idea of a hundred dollars -and the idea of a hundred dollars existing, but there is the whole -difference between thought and reality in the idea of the hundred -dollars existing and the existence of the hundred dollars. Their -actual existence in no way depends on the perfection or imperfection of -my idea, nor in the inclusion of their existence in my idea. This is -sufficiently obvious in every case in which we are dealing with -perceptual reality, and in which we can, in the words of the -philosopher Hume, produce the impression which gives rise to the idea. -But there are some objects which by their very nature will not submit -to this test. No man hath seen God at any time, not because God is an -object existing under conditions and circumstances of place and time -impossible for us to realise by reason of the limitations of our finite -existence, but because God is an object in a different sense from that -which has a place in the perceptual order, and therefore it is affirmed -of God that the {31} idea involves existence. God is not an object of -perception, either actual or possible; nor in the strict sense is God a -concept--that is to say, a universal of which there may be particulars. -He is in a special sense the object of reason. If we believe that -there is a God, it is because our reason tells us that there must be. -God, in philosophy, is the idea of necessary existence, and the -argument runs: God must be, therefore is. If, then, we exclude from -the idea of God every mythological and theological element--if we mean -not Zeus nor Jehovah nor Brahma, but the first principle of -existence--then we may find in the St. Anselm argument the very ground -of theism. - -I have explained this argument, which is of the class called -ontological because it is concerned with the fundamental question of -being, in order to give an instance of the kind of argument that has -given us the theory of the Absolute. I will now try to set that theory -before the reader, asking only that he will put himself into the -position of a plain man with no special acquaintance with philosophy, -but reflective and anxious to interpret the meaning of his ordinary -experience. - -We have already seen that thinking is the questioning of experience, -and that the moment it begins it gives rise to a distinction between -appearance and reality. It is the asking _what?_ of every _that_ of -felt experience to which the mind attends. The world in which we find -ourselves is extended all around us in space and full of things which -affect us in various ways: some give us pleasure, others give us pain, -and we ourselves are things that affect other things as well as being -ourselves affected by them. When we think about the things in the -world in order to discover _what_ they really are, we very soon find -that we are liable to illusion and error. {32} Things turn out on -examination to be very different to what we first imagined them to be. -Our ideas, by which we try to understand the reality of things are just -so many attempts to correct and set right our illusions and errors. -And so the question arises, how far are our ideas about things truths -about reality? It is very soon evident that there are some qualities -of things that give rise to illusion and error much more readily than -others. The spatial qualities of things, solidity, shape, size, seem -to be real in a way that does not admit of doubt. We seem able to -apply to these qualities a test that is definite and absolute. On the -other hand, there seem to be effects of these things in us such as -their colour, taste, odour, sound, coldness, or heat, qualities that -are incessantly changing and a fruitful source of illusion and error. -We therefore distinguish the spatial qualities as primary, and consider -that they are the real things and different from their effects, which -we call their secondary qualities. And this is, perhaps, our most -ordinary test of reality. If, for example, we should think that -something we see is an unreal phantom, or a ghost, or some kind of -hallucination, and on going up to it find that it does actually occupy -space, we correct our opinion and say the thing is real. But the -spatial or primary qualities of a thing, although they may seem more -permanent and more essential to the reality of the thing than the -secondary qualities, are nevertheless only qualities. They are not the -thing itself, but ways in which it affects us. It seems to us that -these qualities must inhere in or belong to the thing, and so we try to -form the idea of the real thing as a substance or substratum which has -the qualities. This was a generally accepted notion until Berkeley -(1685-1763) showed how contradictory it is. So {33} simple and -convincing was his criticism of the notion, that never since has -material substance been put forward as an explanation of the reality of -the things we perceive. All that he did was to show how impossible and -contradictory it is to think that the reality of that which we perceive -is something in its nature imperceptible, for such must material -substance be apart from its sense qualities. How can that which we -perceive be something imperceptible? And if we reflect on it, we shall -surely agree that it is so--by the thing we mean its qualities, and -apart from the qualities there is no thing. We must try, then, in some -other way to reach the reality. - -What, we shall now ask, can it be that binds together these sense -qualities so that we speak of them as a thing? There are two elements -that seem to enter into everything whatever that comes into our -experience, and which it seems to us would remain if everything in the -universe were annihilated. These are space and time. Are they -reality? Here we are met with a new kind of difficulty. It was -possible to dismiss material substance as a false idea, an idea of -something whose existence is impossible; but space and time are -certainly not false ideas. The difficulty about them is that we cannot -make our thought of them consistent--they are ideas that contain a -self-contradiction, or at least that lead to a self-contradiction when -we affirm them of reality. With the ideas of space and time are -closely linked the ideas of change, of movement, of causation, of -quality and quantity, and all of these exhibit this same puzzling -characteristic, that they seem to make us affirm what we deny and deny -what we affirm. I might fill this little book with illustrations of -the paradoxes that are involved in these ordinary working ideas. -Everyone is familiar with the difficulty involved in the {34} idea of -time. We must think there was a beginning, and we cannot think that -there was any moment to which there was no before. So also with space, -it is an infinite extension which we can only think of as a beyond to -every limit. This receding limit of the infinitely extensible space -involves the character of infinite divisibility, for if there are an -infinite number of points from which straight lines can be drawn -without intersecting one another to any fixed point there is therefore -no smallest space that cannot be further divided. The contradictions -that follow from these demonstrable contents of the idea of space are -endless. The relation of time to space is another source of -contradictory ideas. I shall perhaps, however, best make the meaning -of this self-contradictory character of our ordinary ideas clear by -following out a definite illustration. What is known as the antinomy -of motion is probably familiar to everyone from the well-known paradox -of the Greek philosopher Zeno. The flying arrow, he said, does not -move, because if it did it would be in two places at one and the same -time, and that is impossible. I will now put this same paradox of -movement in a form which, so far as I know, it has not been presented -before. My illustration will involve the idea of causation as well as -that of movement. If we suppose a space to be fully occupied, we shall -agree that nothing within that space can move without thereby -displacing whatever occupies the position into which it moves. That is -to say, the movement of any occupant of one position must cause the -displacement of the occupant of the new position into which he moves. -But on the other hand it is equally clear that the displacement of the -occupant of the new position is a prior condition of the possibility of -the movement of {35} the mover, for nothing can move unless there is an -unoccupied place for it to move into, and there is no unoccupied place -unless it has been vacated by its occupant before the movement begins. -We have therefore the clear contradiction that a thing can only move -when something else which it causes to move has already moved. Now if -we reflect on it we shall see that this is exactly the position we -occupy in our three-dimensional space. The space which surrounds us is -occupied, and therefore we cannot move until a way is made clear for -us, and nothing makes way for us unless we move. We cannot move -through stone walls because we cannot displace solid matter, but we can -move through air and water because we are able to displace these. The -problem is the same. My movement displaces the air, but there is no -movement until the air is displaced. Can we escape the contradiction -by supposing the displacement is the cause and the movement the effect. -Are we, like people in a theatre queue, only able to move from behind -forward as the place is vacated for us in front? In that case we -should be driven to the incredible supposition that the original cause -or condition of our movement is the previous movement of something at -the outskirts of our occupied space, that this somewhat moving into the -void made possible the movement of the occupant of the space next -adjoining, and so on until after a lapse of time which may be ages, -which may indeed be infinite, the possibility of movement is opened to -us. In fact we must believe that the effect of our movement--namely, -the displacement of the previous occupants from the positions we occupy -in moving--happened before it was caused. Now it is impossible for us -to believe either of the only two alternatives--either that we do not -really move but only {36} appear to do so, or that the displacement our -movement causes really precedes the movement. When we meet with a -direct self-contradiction in our thoughts about anything, we can only -suppose that that about which we are thinking is in its nature -nonsensical, or else that our ideas about it are wrong. - -It may perhaps be thought that the whole difficulty arises simply -because what we are trying to think consistently about is a reality -that is external to us. Space and time, movement, cause and effect are -ideas that apply to a world outside and independent of the mind that -tries to think it. May not this be the reason of our failure and the -whole explanation of the seeming contradiction? If we turn our -thoughts inward upon our own being and think of the self, the I, the -real subject of experience, then surely where thought is at home and -its object is mental not physical, we shall know reality. It is not -so. The same self-contradiction characterises our ideas when we try to -present the real object of inner perception as when we try to present -the real object of external perception. Not, of course, that it is -possible to doubt the reality of our own existence, but that we fail -altogether to express the meaning of the self we so surely know to -exist in any idea which does not fall into self-contradiction. As in -the case of the thing and its qualities, we think that there is -something distinct from the qualities in which they inhere and yet find -ourselves unable to present to the mind any consistent idea of such -thing, so we think that there must be some substance or basis of -personal identity, some real self which _has_ the successive changing -conscious states, which has the character which distinguishes our -actions as personal but which nevertheless _is_ not itself these -things. The self-contradiction {37} in the idea of self, or I, or -subject, is that it both cannot change and is always changing. As -unchanging, we distinguish it from our body, which is an external -object among other objects and is different from other objects only in -the more direct and intimate relation in which it stands to us. The -body is always changing; never for two successive moments is it exactly -the same combination of chemical elements. We distinguish also ourself -from that consciousness which is memory, the awareness of past -experience, from present feelings, desires, thoughts, and -strivings--these, we say, belong to the self but are not it. The self -must have qualities and dwell in the body, guiding, directing, and -controlling it, yet this self we never perceive, nor can we conceive -it, for our idea of it is of a reality that changes and is yet -unchangeable. - -There is, however, one idea--an idea to which we have already -alluded--that seems to offer us an escape from the whole of this -logical difficulty, the idea that reality is unknowable. May not the -contradictoriness of our ideas be due to this fact, that our knowledge -is entirely of phenomena, of appearances of things, and not of things -as they are in themselves? By a thing-in-itself we do not mean a -reality that dwells apart in a universe of its own, out of any relation -whatever to our universe. There may or may not be such realities, and -whether there are or not is purely irrelevant to any question of the -nature of reality in our universe. The thing-in-itself is the -unknowable reality of the thing we know. We conceive it as existing in -complete abstraction from every aspect or relation of it that -constitutes knowledge of it in another. The self-contradiction of such -an idea is not difficult to show, quite apart from any consideration of -its utter futility as an {38} explanation. The thing-in-itself either -is or else it is not the reality of phenomena. If it is, then, -inasmuch as the phenomena reveal it, it is neither in-itself nor -unknowable. If, on the other hand, it is not, if it is unrelated in -any way to phenomena, then it is not only unknowable--it does not exist -to be known. It is an idea without any content or meaning, and -therefore indistinguishable from nothing. It is simply saying of one -and the same thing that it must be and that there is nothing that it -can be. - -While, then, there is no actual thing that we experience, whether it be -an object outside of us or an object within us, of which we can say -this is not a phenomenon or appearance of reality but the actual -reality itself, we cannot also say that we do not know reality, because -if we had no idea, no criterion, of reality we could never know that -anything was only an appearance. It is this fact--the fact that we -undoubtedly possess, in the very process of thinking itself, a -criterion of reality--that the idealist argument lays hold of as the -basis of its doctrine. The mere fact seems, at first sight, barren and -unpromising enough, but the idealist does not find it so. Possessed of -this principle, logic, which has seemed till now purely destructive, -becomes in his hands creative, and gives form and meaning to an object -of pure reason. - -The criterion of reality is self-consistency. We cannot think that -anything is ultimately real which has its ground of existence in -something else. A real thing is that which can be explained without -reference to some other thing. Reality, therefore, is completely -self-contained existence, not merely dependent existence. -Contradictions cannot be true. If we have to affirm a contradiction of -anything, it must be due to an {39} appearance, and the reality must -reconcile the contradiction. The idea of reality, therefore, is the -idea of perfect harmony. Knowing, then, what reality is, can we say -that there is any actual object of thought that conforms to it? And -have we in our limited experience anything that will guide us to the -attainment of this object? The idealist is confident that we have. -Some things seem to us to possess a far higher degree of reality than -others, just because they conform in a greater degree to this ideal of -harmonious existence. It is when we compare the reality of physical -things with the reality of mental things that the contrast is most -striking, and in it we have the clue to the nature of the higher -reality. Physical reality may seem, and indeed in a certain sense is, -the basis of existence, but when we try to think out the meaning of -physical reality, it becomes increasingly abstract, and we seem unable -to set any actual limit to prevent it dissipating into nothing. In -physical science we never have before us an actual element, either -matter or energy, in which we can recognise, however far below the -limit of perceivability, the ultimate stuff of which the universe is -composed. Science has simply to arrest the dissipation by boldly -assuming a matter that is the substance and foundation of reality and -an energy that is the ultimate cause of the evolution of the universe. -On the other hand, when we consider mental existence, the pursuit of -reality is in an exactly contrary direction. There, the more concrete, -the more comprehensive, the more individual a thing is, the greater -degree of reality it seems to have. In the spiritual realm, by which -we mean, not some supposed supra-mundane sphere, but the world of -values, the world in which ideas have reality, in which we live our -rational life, reality is always sought in a {40} higher and higher -individuality. The principle of individuality is that the whole is -more real than the parts. An individual human being, for example, is a -whole, an indivisible organic unity, not merely an aggregation of -physiological organs with special functions, nor are these a mere -collection of special cells, nor these a mere concourse of chemical -elements. The State as a community is an individual organic unity with -a reality that is more than the mere total of the reality of individual -citizens who compose it. It is this principle of individuality that is -the true criterion of reality. It is this principle that, while it -leads us to seek the unity in an individuality ever higher and more -complete than we have attained, at the same time explains the -discrepancy of our partial view, explains contradictions as the -necessary result of the effort to understand the parts in independence -of the whole which gives to them their reality. Thus, while on the one -hand the scientific search for reality is ever towards greater -simplicity and abstractness, a simplicity whose ideal limit is zero, -the philosophical search for reality is ever towards greater -concreteness, towards full comprehensiveness, and its ideal limit is -the whole universe as one perfect and completely harmonious individual. -This idea of full reality is the Absolute. There are not two -realities, one material and the other spiritual; the material and the -spiritual are two directions in which we may seek the one reality, but -there is only one pathway by which we shall find it. - -The Absolute is the whole universe not in its aspect of an aggregate of -infinitely diverse separate elements, whether these are material or -spiritual, but in its aspect of an individual whole and in its nature -as a whole. This nature of the whole is to be individual--only in {41} -the individual are contradictions reconciled. Is the Absolute more -than an idea? Does it actually exist? Clearly we cannot claim to know -it by direct experience, by acquaintance; it is not a _that_ of which -we can ask _what_? It is the object of reason itself, therefore we -know that it must be. Also we know that it can be; it is a possible -object in the logical meaning that it is not a self-contradictory idea, -like every other idea that we can have. It is not self-contradictory, -for it is itself the idea of that which is consistent. Therefore, -argues the idealist, it is, for that which must be, and can be, surely -exists. The reader will now understand why I introduced this account -of the Absolute with a description for comparison of the St. Anselm -proof of the existence of God. - -There is one further question. Whether the Absolute does or does not -exist, is it, either in idea or reality, of any use to us? The reply -is that its value lies in this, that it reveals to us the nature of -reality and the meaning of truth. Logic is the creative power of -thought which leads us to the discovery of higher and higher degrees of -reality. The Satyr, in the fable, drove his guest from his shelter -because the man blew into his hands to warm them, and into his porridge -to cool it. The Satyr could not reconcile the contradiction that one -could with the same breath blow hot and cold. Nor would he reconcile -it ever, so long as he sought truth as correspondence. Truth would -have shown the facts coherent by reconciling the contradiction in a -higher reality. - - - - -{42} - -CHAPTER V - -PRAGMATISM - -The theory of the Absolute is only one form of Idealism, but it -illustrates the nature and general direction of the development of -philosophy along the line of speculation that began with Kant. There -have been, of course, other directions. In particular many attempts -have been made to make philosophy an adjunct of physical science, but -the theory I have sketched is characteristic of the prevailing movement -in philosophy during the last period of the Nineteenth Century, and -until the movement known as Pragmatism directed criticism upon it. The -form the pragmatical criticism of the theory of the Absolute took was -to direct attention to the logical or intellectual principle on which -it rests--in fact to raise the problem of the nature of truth. -Pragmatism is a theory of the meaning of truth. It is the denial of a -purely logical criterion of truth, and the insistence that truth is -always dependent on psychological conditions. Pragmatism therefore -rejects both the views that we have examined--the theory that truth is -a correspondence of the idea with its object, and the theory that it is -the logical coherence and consistency of the idea itself. It proposes -instead the theory that truth is always founded on a practical -postulate, and consists in the verification of that postulate; the -verification not being the discovery of something that was waiting to -be discovered, but the discovery that the postulate that claims to be -true is useful, in that it works. Truth is what works. - -The Absolute is reality and truth. The idealist argument which we have -followed was an attempt to {43} determine the nature of reality, and -not an attempt to explain what we mean when we say that an idea agrees -with its object. What is true about reality? was the starting point, -and not, What is truth? nor even, What is true about truth? The search -for reality failed to discover any object that agreed with its idea, -but at last there was found an idea that must agree with its object, an -idea whose object cannot not be. This idea, the Absolute, reveals the -nature of reality. The pragmatist when he asks, What is truth? seems -to dig beneath the argument, seems indeed even to reach the bedrock, -but it is only in appearance that this is so. How, indeed, could he -hope to be able to answer the question he has himself asked, if there -is no way of distinguishing the true answer from the false? We must -already know what truth is even to be able to ask what it is--a point -which many pragmatist writers appear to me to have overlooked. - -In challenging the idea of truth, the pragmatist raises the no less -important question of the nature of error. A theory of truth must not -only show in what truth consists, but must distinguish false from true -and show the nature of error. The pragmatist claims for his theory -that it alone can give a consistent account of illusion and error. -Now, as we saw in our account of the idealist argument, it is the fact -of illusion and error that compels us to seek reality behind the -appearances that are the sense data of our conscious experience. The -whole force of the pragmatist movement in philosophy is directed to -proving that truth is a prior consideration to reality. If we -understand the nature of truth, we shall see reality in the making. -Reality can in fact be left to look after itself; our business is with -our conceptions alone, which are either true or false. The distinction -of appearance and reality does {44} not explain illusion and error -because it does not distinguish between true and false appearance. -There is no principle in idealism by which the Absolute rejects the -false appearance and reconciles the true. - -Before I examine the pragmatist argument, I ought first to explain the -meaning and origin of the word. The term pragmatism, that has in the -last few years entered so widely into all philosophical discussion, was -used first by Mr. C. S. Peirce, an American philosopher, in a magazine -article written as long ago as 1878, but it attracted no attention for -nearly twenty years, when it was recalled by William James in the -criticism of the current philosophy in his _Will to Believe_, a book -which marks the beginning of the new movement. Pragmatism was first -put forward as the principle that the whole meaning of any conception -expresses itself in practical consequences. The conception of the -practical effects of a conception is the whole conception of the -object. The pragmatist maxim is--would you know what any idea or -conception means, then consider what practical consequences are -involved by its acceptance or rejection. Dr. Schiller, the leading -exponent of the principle in England, prefers to call the philosophy -"Humanism" in order still more to emphasize the psychological and -personal character of knowledge. The name is suggested by the maxim of -Protagoras, "Man is the measure of all things." The term -Intellectualism is used by pragmatist writers to include all theories -of knowledge that do not agree with their own, very much as the Greeks -called all who were not Greeks, Barbarians. It must not be taken to -mean, as its etymology would imply, a philosophy like that of Plato, -which held that only universals, the ideas, are real, or like that of -Hegel, who said that "the actual is the rational and the rational is -the actual." The {45} pragmatists apply the term intellectualist to -all philosophers who recognise an objective character in the logical -ideal of truth, whether or not they also recognise non-logical elements -in reality, and whether or not these non-logical elements are physical, -such as matter and energy, or purely psychical, such as will, desire, -emotion, pleasure, and pain. - -Pragmatism is a criticism and a theory. If reality in its full meaning -is the Absolute, and if all seeming reality is only a degree of or -approximation to this full reality, if the knowledge of this reality -only is truth, must it not seem to us that truth is useless knowledge? -Useless, not in the sense that it is without value to the mind that -cares to contemplate it, but useless in so far as the hard everyday -working world in which we have to spend our lives is concerned. We who -have to win our existence in the struggle of life, need truth. We need -truth in order to act. Truth that transcends our temporal needs, truth -that is eternal, truth that reconciles illusion and error, that accepts -them as a necessary condition of appearance in time, is useless in -practice, however it may inspire the poet and philosopher. Truth to -serve us must reject error and not reconcile it, must be a working -criterion and not only a rational one. Whatever truth is, it is not -useless; it is a necessity of life, not a luxury of speculation. -Pragmatism therefore rejects the logical criterion of truth because it -is purely formal and therefore useless. It demands for us a practical -criterion, one that will serve our continual needs. Whether our -working ideas--cause, time, space, movement, things and their -qualities, terms and their relations, and the like--are consistent or -inconsistent in themselves, they more or less work; and in so far as -they work they are useful and serve us, and because they work, and just -in so far as they work, they are true. {46} The pragmatist therefore -declares that utility, not logical consistency, is the criterion of -truth. Ideas are true in so far as they work. The discovery that they -serve us is their verification. If we discover ideas that will serve -us better, the old ideas that were true become untrue, and the new -ideas that we adopt become true because they are found to work. - -This doctrine of the verification or making true of ideas leads to a -theory of the origin of the ideas themselves. Each idea has arisen or -been called forth by a human need. It has been formed by human nature -to meet a need of human nature. It is a practical postulate claiming -truth. Even the axioms that now seem to us self-evident--such, for -example, as the very law of contradiction itself, from which, as we -have seen, the logical criterion of consistency is deduced--were in -their origin practical postulates, called forth by a need, and, because -found to work, true. The inconsistencies and contradictions in our -ideas do not condemn them as appearance, and compel us to construct a -reality in which they disappear or are reconciled, but are evidence of -their origin in practical need and of their provisional character. -Truth is not eternal, it is changing. New conditions are ever calling -forth new ideas, and truths become untrue. Each new idea comes forward -with a claim to truth, and its claim is tested by its practicability. -Truth is not something we discover, and which was there to be -discovered. We verify ideas. To verify is not to find true but to -make true. - -The pragmatist theory therefore is that truth is made. In all other -theories truth is found. But if we make truth we must make reality, -for it is clear that if reality is there already, the agreement with it -of man-made truth would be nothing short of a miracle. The pragmatist, -or at all events the pragmatist who is also a {47} humanist, finds no -difficulty in accepting this consequence of the theory, although at the -same time insisting that the whole problem, of being as well as of -knowing is concerned with truth. We shall see, however, that it offers -a serious difficulty to the acceptance of the theory--a theory which in -very many respects agrees with ordinary practice and with scientific -method. Take, for example, scientific method. Is not all progress in -science made by suggesting a hypothesis, and testing it by experiment -to see if it works? Do we not judge its claim to truth by the -practical consequences involved in accepting or rejecting it? Is there -any other verification? This is the simple pragmatist test,--does the -laboratory worker add to it or find it in any respect insufficient? If -truth can be considered alone, then we must admit that it is the -attribute of knowledge which is comprised under the term useful, the -term being used in its most comprehensive meaning to include every kind -of practical consequence. It is the question of reality that raises -the difficulty for the scientific worker. We cannot believe, or -perhaps we should say, the ordinary man and the scientific man would -find it very difficult to believe, that reality changes correspondingly -with our success or failure in the verification of our hypothesis. -When the scientific worker verifies his hypothesis, he feels not that -he has made something true which before was not true, but that he has -discovered what always was true, although until the discovery he did -not know it. To this the pragmatist reply is, that this very belief is -a practical consequence involved in the verification of the hypothesis, -involved in the discovery that it works. What he denies is that truth -reveals, or ever can reveal, a reality entirely irrelevant to any human -purpose. It is also very important to add that in declaring that truth -is verification, the {48} pragmatist does not set up a purely practical -or utilitarian standard. The "working" of truth means theoretical as -well as practical working. Much of the current criticism of pragmatism -has failed to take notice of this intention or meaning of its -principle, and hence the common misapprehension that the maxim "truth -is what works" must mean that whatever a man believes is for him truth. - -The pragmatist doctrine and attitude will perhaps be easier to -understand if we take it in regard to a particular instance of truth -and error in regard to fundamental notions. In the last four or five -years a new principle has been formulated in Physics, named the -Principle of Relativity. It revolutionises the current conceptions of -space and time. It is so recent that probably some of my readers now -hear of it for the first time, and therefore before I refer to its -formulation by mathematicians I will give a simple illustration to -explain what it is. Suppose that you are walking up and down the deck -of a steamer, and let us suppose that the steamer is proceeding at the -speed of four miles an hour, the space that you cover and the interval -of time that you occupy are exactly the same for you whether you are -moving up the deck in the direction the steamer is going or down the -deck in the direction which is the reverse of the steamer's movement. -But suppose some one on the shore could observe you moving while the -ship was invisible to him, your movement would appear to him entirely -different to what it is to you. When you were walking up the deck you -would seem to be going at twice the speed you would be going, and when -you were going down the deck you would seem not to be moving at all. -The time measurement would also seem different to the observer on the -shore, for while to you each moment would be measured by an equal {49} -space covered, to him one moment you would be moving rapidly, the next -at rest. This is simple and easy to understand. Now suppose that both -you and the observer were each observing a natural phenomenon, say a -thunder-storm, it would seem that each of you ought to observe it with -a difference--a difference strictly calculable from the system of -movement, the ship, in which you were placed in relation to him. The -propagation of the sound and of the light would have to undergo a -correction if each of you described your experience to the other. If -you were moving in the direction of the light waves they would be -slower for you than for him, and if against their direction they would -be faster for you than for him. Of course the immense velocity of the -light waves, about 200,000 miles a second, would make the difference in -a movement of four miles an hour so infinitesimal as to be altogether -inappreciable, but it would not be nothing, and you would feel quite -confident that if it could be measured the infinitesimal quantity would -appear in the result. Now suppose that we could measure it with -absolute accuracy, and that the result was the discovery that the -supposed difference did not exist at all--and of course, we suppose -that there is no doubt whatever about the measurement--what, then, -should we be obliged to think? We should be forced to believe that as -the velocity of light was the same for the two observers, one moving, -one at rest, therefore the space and the time must be different for -each. Now, however strange it may seem, such a measurement has been -made, and with this surprising result. In consequence there has been -formulated a new principle in Physics named the Principle of -Relativity. I take this Principle of Relativity for my illustration -because it is based on reasoning that practically admits of no doubt, -and because {50} it requires us to form new conceptions of space and -time which seem to alter fundamentally what we have hitherto considered -as the evident and unmistakable nature of those realities. It has -always seemed that the distance separating two points, and the interval -of time separating two events, were each independent of the other and -each absolute. However different the distance and the interval may -appear to observers in movement or to observers in different systems of -movement in relation to ourselves and to one another, in themselves -they are the same distance and the same interval for all. They are the -same for the man in the express train as for the man standing on the -station platform. The Principle of Relativity requires us to think -that this is not so, but that, contrary to all our settled notions, the -actual space and time vary--really undergo an alteration, a contraction -or expansion--with each different system of movement of translation to -which the observer is bound. Events that for an observer belonging to -one system of movement happen in the same place, for another observer -in a different system of movement happen in different places. Events -that for one observer happen simultaneously, for other observers are -separated by a time interval according to the movement of translation -of the system to which they belong. So that space, which Newton -described as rigid, and time which he described as flowing at a -constant rate, and which for him was absolute, are for the new theory -relative, different for an observer in every different system of -movement of translation. Or we may state it in the opposite way, and -say that the Principle of Relativity shows us that the reason why -natural phenomena, such as the rate of propagation of light, undergo no -alteration when we pass from one system of movement of translation to -another, as we {51} are constantly doing in the changing velocity of -the earth's movement round the sun, is that space and time alter with -the velocity. I cannot here give the argument or describe the -experiments which have given this result--I am simply taking it as an -illustration.[1] It seems to me admirably suited to compare the -pragmatist method and the pragmatist attitude with that of scientific -realism and of absolute idealism. - - -[1] The Principle of Relativity is mainly the result of the recent -mathematical work of H. A. Lorentz, Einstein, and the late Professor -Minkowski. A very interesting and not excessively difficult, account -of it is contained in _Dernières Pensées_, by the late Henri Poincaré; -Paris, Alcan. - - -Here, then, is a question in which the truth of our accepted notions is -called in question, and new notions claim to be true. The sole -question involved, pragmatism insists, is the truth of conceptions, not -the reality of things, and there is but one way of testing the truth of -conceptions--and that is by comparing the rival conceptions in respect -of the practical consequences that follow from them and adopting those -that will work. If the old conceptions of space and time fail to -conform to a new need, then what was true before the need was revealed -is no longer true, the new conception has become true. By verifying -the new conception, we make it true. But, objects the realist, an idea -cannot become true; what is now true always was true, and what is no -longer true never was true, though we may have worked with the false -notion ignorant that it was false. Behind truth there is reality. The -earth was spherical even when all mankind believed it flat and found -the belief work. To this the pragmatist reply is that reality is only -our objectification of truth; it possesses no meaning divorced from -human purposes. Had anyone announced that the earth was a sphere {52} -when it was generally held to be flat, unless his announcement had some -relevance to a defect in the flat earth notion, or a claim to revise -that notion, his announcement would have been neither a truth nor a -falsehood in any intelligible meaning of the term--he would have been -making an irrelevant remark. The notions of space and time that Newton -held worked, and were therefore true; if a new need requires us to -replace them with other notions, and these other notions will work and -are therefore true, they have become true and Newton's notions have -become false. If it is still objected that the new notions were also -true for Newton, although he was ignorant of them, the need for them -not having arisen, the only reply is that truth, or reality, in -complete detachment from human purposes, cannot be either affirmed or -denied. - -With this view the idealist will be in agreement; his objection is of a -different kind. He rejects, as the pragmatist does, the notion of a -reality independent of human nature that forces upon us the changes -that our conceptions undergo. These changes, he holds, are the inner -working of the conceptions themselves, the manifestation of our -intellectual nature, ever striving for an ideal of logical consistency. -Truth is this ideal. We do not make it; we move towards it. If we -compare, then, the idealist and the pragmatist doctrine, it will seem -that, while for the idealist truth is growing with advancing knowledge -into an ever larger because more comprehensive system of reality, for -the pragmatist it is ever narrowing, discarding failures as useless and -irrelevant to present purpose. How indeed, the idealist will ask, if -practical consequences be the meaning of truth, is it possible to -understand that knowledge has advanced or can advance? Does not the -history of science prove a continual expansion, an increasing {53} -comprehension? It is within the conception that the inconsistency is -revealed, not in any mere outward use of the conceptions, and the -intellectual effort is to reconcile the contradiction by relating the -conception to a more comprehensive whole. How, then, does the idealist -meet this case which we have specially instanced, the demand for new -notions of space and time made by the Principle of Relativity? He -denies that the new conceptions are called forth by human needs in the -narrow sense--that is to say, in the sense that working hypotheses or -practical postulates are required. The need is purely logical. The -inconsistency revealed in the notions that have hitherto served us can -only be reconciled by apprehending a higher unity. If the older -notions of space and time are inadequate to the more comprehensive view -of the universe as a co-ordination of systems of movement, then this -very negation of the older notions is the affirmation of the new, and -from the negation by pure logic the content and meaning which are the -truth of the new notions are derived. To this objection the pragmatist -reply is that if this be the meaning of the truth there is no way shown -by which it can be distinguished from error. There is in fact for -idealism no error, no illusion, no falsehood; as real facts, there are -only degrees of truth. But a theory of truth which ignores such -stubborn realities as illusion, falsehood, and error is, from whatever -standpoint we view it, useless. On the other hand, pragmatism offers a -test by which we can discriminate between true and false--namely, the -method of judging conceptions by their practical consequences. Can we -or can we not make our conceptions work? That is the whole meaning of -asking, Are they true or false? And now, lest the reader is alarmed at -the prospect of having to revise his working ideas of space and {54} -time, I will, to reassure him, quote the words with which Henri -Poincaré concluded his account of the new conceptions, and which -admirably express and illustrate the pragmatist's attitude: "What is to -be our position in view of these new conceptions? Are we about to be -forced to modify our conclusions? No, indeed: we had adopted a -convention because it seemed to us convenient, and we declared that -nothing could compel us to abandon it. To-day certain physicists wish -to adopt a new convention. It is not because they are compelled to; -they judge this new convention to be more convenient--that is all; and -those who are not of this opinion can legitimately keep the old and so -leave their old habits undisturbed. I think, between ourselves, that -this is what they will do for a long time to come." - -I have so far considered pragmatism rather as a criticism than as a -doctrine. I will now try and characterise it on its positive side. It -declares that there is no such thing as pure thought, but that all -thinking is personal and purposive; that all knowing is directed, -controlled, and qualified by psychological conditions such as interest, -attention, desire, emotion, and the like; and that we cannot, as formal -logic does, abstract from any of these, for logic itself is part of a -psychical process. Truth therefore depends upon belief; truths are -matters of belief, and beliefs are rules of action. It is this -doctrine that gives to pragmatism its paradoxical, some have even said -its grotesque, character. It seems to say that the same proposition is -both true and false--true for the man who believes it, false for the -man who cannot. It seems to say that we can make anything true by -believing it, and we can believe anything so long as the consequences -of acting on it are not absolutely disastrous. And the proposition, -All truths work, seems to involve the conclusion that all that works is -true; and the proposition, The true is the useful, seems to imply that -{55} whatever is useful is therefore true. No small part of the -pragmatist controversy has been directed to the attempt to show that -all and each of these corollaries are, or arise from, misconceptions of -the doctrine. I think, and I shall endeavour to show, that there is a -serious defect in the pragmatist statement, and that these -misconceptions are in a great part due to it. Nevertheless, we must -accept the pragmatist disavowal. And there is no difficulty in doing -so, for the meaning of the theory is sufficiently clear. Truth, -according to pragmatism, is a value and not a fact. Truth is thus -connected with the conception of "good." In saying that truth is -useful, we say that it is a means to an end, a good. It is not a moral -end, but a cognitive end, just as "beauty" is an esthetic end. Truth, -beauty, and goodness thus stand together as judgments of value or -worth. It is only by recognising that truth is a value that we can -possess an actual criterion to distinguish it from error, for if truth -is a judgment of fact, if it asserts existence, so also does error. - -The pragmatist principle has an important bearing on religion. It -justifies the Faith attitude. It shows that the good aimed at by a -"truth claim" is only attainable by the exercise of the will to -believe. Thus it replaces the intellectual maxim, Believe in nothing -you can possibly doubt, with the practical maxim, Resolve not to quench -any impulse to believe because doubts of the truth are possible. -Belief may even be a condition of the success of the truth claim. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -UTILITY - -We have seen in the last chapter that pragmatism is both a criticism -and a theory. It shows us that the {56} notion that truth is -correspondence involves the conception of an "impossible" knowledge, -and the notion that truth is coherence or consistency involves the -conception of a "useless" knowledge. The explanation pragmatism itself -offers is of the kind that is called in the technical language of -philosophy teleological. This means that to explain or to give a -meaning to truth all we can do is to point out the purpose on account -of which it exists. This is not scientific explanation. Physical -science explains a fact or an event by showing the conditions which -give rise to it or that determine its character. Pragmatism recognises -no conditions determining truth such as those which science embodies in -the conception of a natural law--that is, the idea of a connection of -natural events with one another which is not dependent on human -thoughts about them nor on human purposes in regard to them. Truth is -in intimate association with human practical activity; its meaning lies -wholly in its utility. We must therefore now examine somewhat closely -this notion of utility. - -There appears to me to be a serious defect in the pragmatist conception -and application of the principle of utility; it is based on a -conception altogether too narrow. A theory that condemns any purely -logical process as resulting in "useless" knowledge can only justify -itself by insisting on an application of the principle of utility that -will be found to exclude not merely the Absolute of philosophy but most -if not all of the results of pure mathematics and physics, for these -sciences apply a method of pure logical deduction and induction -indistinguishable from that which pragmatism condemns. The -intellectual nature of man is an endowment which sharply distinguishes -him from other forms of living creatures. So supreme a position does -our intellect assign to us, so wide is the gap that separates {57} us -from other creatures little different from ourselves in respect of -perfection of material organisation and adaptation to environment, that -it seems almost natural to suppose that our intellect is that for which -we exist, and not merely a mode of controlling, directing, and -advancing our life. Now it is possible to hold--and this is the view -that I shall endeavour in what follows to develop--that the intellect -is subservient to life, and that we can show the manner and method of -its working and the purpose it serves. So far we may agree with the -pragmatist, but it is not the same thing to say that the intellect -serves a useful purpose and to say that truth, the ideal of the -intellect, the end which it strives for, is itself only a utility. -Were there no meaning in truth except that it is what works, were there -no meaning independent of and altogether distinct from the practical -consequences of belief, of what value to us would the intellect be? If -the meaning the intellect assigns to truth is itself not true, how can -the intellect serve us? The very essence of its service is reduced to -nought; for what else but the conception of an objective truth, a -logical reality independent of any and every psychological condition, -is the utility that the intellect puts us in possession of? It is this -conception alone that constitutes it an effective mode of activity. -Therefore, if we hold with the pragmatist that the intellect is -subservient to life, truth is indeed a utility, but it is a utility -just because it has a meaning distinct from usefulness. On the other -hand, to condemn any knowledge as "useless" is to deny utility to the -intellect. - -Before I try to show that the logical method of the idealist -philosophy, which pragmatism condemns because it leads to "useless" -knowledge, is identical in every respect with the method employed in -pure mathematics and physics, I will give for comparison two -illustrations {58} that seem to me instances of a narrow and of a wide -use of the concept of utility. - -A short time ago an orang-utang escaped from its cage in the Zoological -Gardens under somewhat singular and very interesting circumstances. -The cage was secured with meshed wire of great strength, judged -sufficient to resist the direct impact of the most powerful of the -carnivora; but the ape, by attention to the twisting of the plied wire, -had by constant trying succeeded in loosening and finally in unwinding -a large section. It escaped from its enclosure, and after doing -considerable damage in the corridor, including the tearing out of a -window frame, made its way into the grounds and took refuge in a tree, -twisting the branches into a platform said to be similar to the -constructions it makes in its native forests. - -In taking this action as an illustration, I am not concerned with the -question of what may be the distinction between action that is -intelligent and action that is instinctive. If we take intelligence in -a wide and general meaning, we may compare the intelligence shown by -this ape with the intelligence shown by man in the highest processes of -the mind. Psychologists would, I think, be unanimous in holding that -in the mind of the ape there was no conception of freedom, no kind of -mental image of unrestricted life and of a distinct means of attaining -it, no clearly purposed end, the means of attaining which was what -prompted the undoing of the wire, such as we should certainly suppose -in the case of a man in a similar situation. It was the kind of -intelligent action that psychologists denote by the description "trial -and error." It seems to me, however, that this exactly fulfils the -conditions that the pragmatist doctrine of the meaning of truth -require. We see the intellect of the ape making true by finding out -what works. {59} We can suppose an entire absence of the idea of -objective truth to which reality must conform, of truth unaffected by -purpose. Here, then, we seem to have the pure type of truth in its -simplest conditions, a practical activity using intelligence to -discover what works. Is the difference between this practical activity -and the higher mental activities as we employ them in the abstract -sciences one of degree of complexity only, or is it different in kind? - -Let us consider now, as an illustration of the method of the abstract -sciences, the well-known case of the discovery of the planet Neptune. -This planet was discovered by calculation and deduction, and was only -seen when its position had been so accurately determined that the -astronomers who searched for it knew exactly the point of the heavens -to which to direct their telescopes. The calculation was one of -extraordinary intricacy, and was made independently by two -mathematicians, Adams of Cambridge and Leverrier of Paris, between the -years 1843 and 1846. Each communicated his result independently--Adams -to the astronomer Challis, the Director of the Cambridge Observatory, -and Leverrier to Dr. Galle of the Berlin Observatory. Within six weeks -of one another and entirely unknown to one another, in August and -September 1846, each of these astronomers observed the planet where he -had been told to look for it. This is one of the romances of modern -science. It is not the discovery but the method that led to it which -may throw light on our problem of the nature of truth. - -At first sight this seems exactly to accord with and even to illustrate -the pragmatist theory, that truth is what works. The investigation is -prompted by the discrepancies between the actual and the calculated -positions of Uranus, the outermost planet, as it was then supposed, of -the system. This revealed a need, and this {60} need was met by the -practical postulate of the existence of another planet as yet unseen. -The hypothesis was found to work even before the actual observation put -the final seal of actuality on the discovery. What else but the -practical consequences of the truth claim in the form of the hypothesis -of an undiscovered planet were ever in question? Yes, we reply, but -the actual method adopted, and the knowledge sought for by the method, -are precisely of the kind that pragmatism rejects as "useless" -knowledge. Why were not the observed movements of Uranus accepted as -what they were? Why was it felt that they must be other than they were -seen to be unless there was another planet? The need lay in the idea -of system. It was inconsistent with the system then believed complete, -and the need was to find the complete system in which it would -harmonise. The truth that was sought for was a harmonious individual -whole, and the method employed precisely that which the Absolutist -theory of reality employs. There is observed a discrepancy, an -inconsistency, a contradiction within the whole conceived as a system. -This negation is treated as a defect, is calculated and accurately -determined, and is then positively affirmed of the reality. Now, what -is distinctive in this method is that reality is conceived as a -complete system. If the felt defect in this system cannot be made good -by direct discovery, its place is supplied by a fiction, using the term -in its etymological meaning to express something made and not in its -derived meaning to express something found false. This intellectual -process of construction is purely logical; no psychological element in -the sense of the will to believe enters into it or colours it in any -way. - -This is not an isolated instance, it illustrates the method of science -in all theorising. An even more {61} striking illustration than that -we have just given is the case of the hypothesis of the luminiferous -æther--a supposed existence, a fiction, that has served a useful, even -an indispensable service in the history of modern physics. To many -physicists, even to Lord Kelvin, the hypothesis seemed so surely -established that its nonexistence hardly seemed thinkable, yet all the -experiments designed to detect its presence have been uniformly -negative in result, and it now seems not even necessary as a -hypothesis, and likely to disappear. The æther was not only not -discovered, it was not even suspected to exist, as in the case of the -unknown planet Neptune--it was logically constructed. It was required -to support the theory of the undulatory nature of light and to fulfil -the possibility of light propagation in space. It was therefore a -postulate, called forth by a need--so far we may adopt the pragmatist -account. But what was the nature of the need, and what was the method -by which the postulate was called forth? It is in answering this -question that the pragmatist criterion fails. The need was -intellectual in the purely logical meaning of the term, and it was met -by a purely logical construction. The need was a practical human need -only in so far as the intellect working by logical process is a human -endowment but not in any personal sense such as is conveyed by the term -psychological. Willingness or unwillingness to believe, desire, -aversion, interest were all irrelevant. Given the intellect, the -logical necessity was the only need that called forth by logical -process the "truth-claiming" hypothesis of the æther. But even so, the -pragmatist will urge, is its truth anything else but its usefulness as -shown in the practical consequences of believing it? Was it not true -while it was useful, and is it not only now false, if it is false, if -it is actually discovered not to be useful? {62} The reply is that no -mathematician or physicist would recognise the possibility of working -with a conception of truth that simply identified truth with utility, -and for this reason that he can only conceive reality as a system whose -truth is symbolised in an equation. It is the system that determines -and characterises the postulate, and not the postulate advanced at a -venture, tried and verified, that constitutes the system. The -mathematician begins by placing symbols to represent the unknown -factors in his equation, and proceeds by means of his known factors to -determine their value. The æther is at first a pure fiction -constructed to supply an unknown existence recognised as a defect. Its -truth cannot mean that it works for it cannot but work, having been -constructed purely for that purpose. Its truth means that it -corresponds to some actual existence at present unknown. To prove its -truth the physicist does not appeal to its value as a hypothesis, but -devises experiments by which, if it does exist, its existence will be -demonstrated. In this actual case the experiments have had a uniformly -negative result, and therefore the truth of the hypothesis is made -doubtful or denied. The hypothesis continues to work as well as it -ever did, and physicists will probably long continue to use it, but it -has failed to establish its truth claim. The result is the modern -Principle of Relativity, which, as we have already said, has produced a -revolution in modern physics. The abolition of the æther would have -been impossible if the physicist had been content with the utility of -his hypothesis and had not experimented to prove its truth. The -relation between truth and utility is thus proved to be that it is -useful to know what is true. - -These two illustrations of scientific method--namely, the discovery of -Neptune and the negative discovery {63} that the æther is -non-existent--make it evident that verification is the intellectual -process not of making true, but of finding true. We can, indeed, -distinguish quite clearly the two processes. The first process, that -of making true, is the constructing of the fiction by which we complete -an incomplete system, and the second is the testing of that fiction to -see if it corresponds to anything actually existing. No kind of -intellectual activity will make an idea true, and conversely we may say -that were truth only a utility, then knowledge instead of being -systematic would be chaotic. Existence has its roots in reality, not -in knowledge. Reality does not depend on truth. Truth is the -intellectual apprehension of reality. - -If the pragmatist objects that in this argument I have throughout -supposed him to be urging the narrow meaning of utility, namely, that -it is usefulness in the strictly practical sense, whereas he intends it -in the widest possible meaning--a meaning that includes theoretical -usefulness--then the trouble is a different one; it is to know how and -where the pragmatist stops short of the coherence theory of truth, and -wherein his method differs from that of the idealist. - -This brings me to the consideration of another theory in which the -concept of utility plays a large, indeed a predominant part. This is -the theory of the relation of knowledge to life that is given to us in -the philosophy of Bergson. I have in one of the volumes of this series -given an account of this philosophy; I am here only dealing with its -relation to this special problem of the nature of truth. It has been -claimed that this philosophy is only a form of pragmatism, but it is -not a theory of truth, and it has this essential difference from -pragmatism that it is the intellect and not truth that is a utility. -Before we consider the question that it gives {64} rise to in regard to -truth, let us first examine the theory of the intellect, and the nature -of its utility. The intellect is a mode of activity, an endowment -acquired in the course of evolution, and which has been retained and -perfected because of its utility. This does not mean that the -intellect directs us to what is useful and inhibits us from courses -fatal to life, neither does it mean that it gives us any power to make -true what is not already true, it means that the power to acquire -knowledge is useful. There is a contrast in our own existence between -our life and our intellect. - -To understand the way in which the intellect serves the living creature -endowed with it, we need only regard it from the standpoint of ordinary -experience. We know in ourselves that our life is wider than our -intellect, and that our intellect serves the activity of our life. The -common expressions we employ, such as using our wits, taking an -intelligent interest, trying to think, all imply a utility distinct -from the intellect. So viewed, our life appears as an active principle -within us, maintaining our organism in its relations, active and -passive, and reactive to the reality outside and independent of it. -Our intellect also seems both active and passive. It receives the -influences that stream in upon us from the reality around us, it -apprehends and interprets them, and works out the lines of our possible -action in regard to them. The influences that flow in upon us from the -outside world are already selected before our intellect apprehends -them, for they flow in by the avenues of our senses, and the senses are -natural instruments of selection. If we picture these influences as -vibrations, then we may say that a certain group of vibrations of a -very rapid frequency are selected by the eye and give rise to vision, -that another group of very much lower frequency are selected by the ear -and {65} give the sensation of sound, and other groups are selected by -taste, smell, and touch. Many groups are known indirectly by means of -artificial instruments, and all the infinite series that unite these -groups of the actually experienced vibrations escape our apprehension -altogether--we have no means of selecting them. But all these sense -data, as we may call them, come to us without exertion or activity on -our part; it is the intellect which gives them meaning, which -interprets them, which makes them the apprehension or awareness of -objects or things. And the active part that the intellect plays is -also a process of selection. This is evident if we reflect upon the -universal form which our intellectual activity takes, namely, -attention. It is in the act of attention that we are conscious of -mental activity, and attention is essentially selection--the selection -of an interest. Besides the natural selection that is effected by our -senses and the conscious selection that is manifest in attention, there -is also a more or less arbitrary selection that our intellect performs -in marking out the lines of our practical interest and possible action. -In this work of selection the intellect makes the world conform to the -necessities of our action. - -So far we have looked at our intellectual endowment from the standpoint -of ordinary common-sense experience. Let us now consider the -philosophical theory based on this view, which explains the nature of -knowledge by showing its purpose. The intellect not only selects, but -in selecting transforms the reality. It presents us with knowledge -that indeed corresponds with reality, for it is essentially a view of -reality, but also in selecting it marks out divisions, and gives to -reality a form that is determined by practical interest. The same -reality is different to different individuals and to different species -according to their practical interests. {66} The practical end which -the human intellect serves is to present us with a field for our life -activity. This is the real world for us, as we know it, real objects -in a real space. Had we no other way of knowing but that of our -intellect we should not know the life which is active within us as it -is really lived, we should be as those who, standing outside, watch a -movement, and not as those who are carried along in the movement and -experience it from within. In life and intellect we have the -counterpart of reality and appearance. Life is not something that -changes; it is the change of which the something is the appearance. -Life is the reality of which all things, as we understand them, are the -appearances, and on account of which they appear. The solid things in -space and time are not in reality what they appear; they are views of -the reality. The intellect guided by our practical interest presents -reality under this form of solid spatial things. Clearly, then, if -this view be true, the whole world, as it is presented to us and -thought of by us, is an illusion. Our science is not unreal, but it is -a transformed reality. The illusions may be useful, may, indeed, be -necessary and indispensable, but nevertheless it is illusion. - -But here there arises a new difficulty in regard to truth. If the -usefulness of the intellect consists in the active production of an -illusion, can we say that the intellect leads us to truth? Is it not -only if we can turn away from the intellect and obtain a -non-intellectual intuition that we can know truth? - - - - -{67} - -CHAPTER VII - -ILLUSION - -The doctrine that the world that appears is essentially unlike the -world that is is neither new nor peculiar to any particular theory of -philosophy. It has received a new interest and a new interpretation -lately in the theory that we are now considering, that the clue to the -appearance of the world to us is to be found in the conception of the -nature of the utility of the intellect and in the mode of its activity. -The idea that we are perhaps disqualified by our very nature itself -from beholding reality and knowing truth is illustrated in the -well-known allegory in the _Republic_ of Plato: - -"And now let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or -unenlightened. Behold! human beings living in an underground den, -which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the -den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and -necks chained so that they cannot move and can only see before them, -being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above -and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire -and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, -a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette -players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets. And -men are passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and -statues, and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various -materials, which appear over the wall.... - -"They are strange prisoners, like ourselves, and they see only their -own shadows or the shadows of one another which the fire throws on the -opposite wall of the cave. And so also of the objects carried and of -the passers-by; to the prisoners the truth would be literally nothing -but the shadows of the images. - -{68} - -"And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the -prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first, when -any of them, is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn -his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he will suffer -sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see -the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows. -And then conceive someone saying to him that what he saw before was an -illusion, but that now, when he is approaching nearer to being, and his -eye is turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer vision, and -what will be his reply? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he -formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?... - -"And suppose that he is forced into the presence of the sun himself, is -he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light -his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at -all of what are now called realities." - -The thought that Plato has expressed in this wonderful allegory has -entered deeply into all philosophy. What we first take for reality is -merely a shadow world. But in Plato's view it is the intellect which -gives us the means of escape, the power to turn from the illusion to -behold the reality. It is not until now that philosophy has sought the -clue to the illusion in the nature of the intellect itself. The very -instrument of truth is unfitted to reveal to us the reality as it is, -because its nature and purpose is to transform reality, to make reality -appear in a form which, though of paramount importance to us as active -beings, is essentially an illusion. The intellectual bent of our mind -leads us away from, and not towards a vision of reality in its purity. -The more our intellect progresses, and the more and more clearly we -{69} see into a greater and ever greater number of things, the farther -are we from, and not the nearer to a grasp of reality as it is. To -obtain this vision of reality we have to turn away from the intellect -and find ourselves again in that wider life out of which the intellect -is formed. Life, as it lives, is an intuition that is nonintellectual. - -"Human intelligence," writes Bergson, "is not at all what Plato taught -in the allegory of the cave. Its function is not to look at passing -shadows, nor yet to turn itself round and contemplate the glaring sun. -It has something else to do. Harnessed, like yoked oxen, to a heavy -task, we feel the play of our muscles and joints, the weight of the -plough, and the resistance of the soil. To act and to know that we are -acting, to come into touch with reality and even to live it, but only -in the measure in which it concerns the work that is being accomplished -and the furrow that is being ploughed, such is the function of human -intelligence." - -The illusion to which our intellectual nature subjects us is the -necessity we are under to regard the things of the universe as more -ultimate, as more fundamental than the movement which actuates the -universe. It seems to us impossible that there could exist movement or -change, unless there already existed things to be moved or changed, -things whose nature is not altered, but only their form and their -external relations, when they are moved or changed. This necessity of -thought seems to have received authoritative recognition in all -attempts, religious and scientific, to conceive origins. Thus we read -in the Book of Genesis: - - -"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth -was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. -And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters." - - -{70} The matter of the universe, it is felt, must be in existence -before the movement which vivifies it. The dead inert stuff must be -created before it can receive the breath of life. And if God the -creator is conceived as living before the matter which He has created, -it is as an external principle, the relation of which to the creation -is by most religious minds thought to transcend the power of the finite -understanding to conceive. - -The same fundamental conception of the primacy of matter over movement -is evident in the scientific theories of the nature and origin of life. -Life appears to science as a form of energy that requires things, -matter occupying space, to support it. According to one view, life is -the result of a certain combination or synthesis of chemical or -physical elements, previously existing separately--a combination of -very great complexity, and one that may possibly have occurred once -only in the long process of nature, but which nevertheless might be, -and some think probably, or even certainly, will be brought about by a -chemist working in his laboratory. This is the mechanistic or -materialist view. On the other hand, there is the theory of vitalism. -Life, it is contended, cannot be due to such a synthesis of material -elements as the mechanistic view supposes, because it is of the nature -of an "entelechy"--that is, an individual existence which functions, as -a whole, in every minutest part of the organism it "vitalises." Life -has supervened upon, and not arisen out of the material organism which -it guides and controls not by relating independent parts, but by making -every part subserve the activity and unity of the whole. But the -vitalist theory, as well as the mechanistic theory, conceives the -movement and change which is life as dependent on the previous -existence of a matter or stuff which is moved or changed. The -philosophical {71} conception differs, therefore, from both these -theories. It is that life is an original movement, and that this -movement is the whole reality of which things, inert matter, even -spatial extension, are appearances. True duration is change, not the -permanence of something amidst change. There are no unchanging things. -Everything changes. Reality is the flux; things are views of the flux, -arrests or contractions of the flowing that the intellect makes. The -appearance of the world to us is our intellectual grasp of a reality -that flows. This original movement is the life of the universe. -Briefly stated, the argument on which the theory is based is that it is -logically impossible to explain change by changelessness, movement by -immobility. Real change cannot be a succession of states themselves -fixed and changeless; real movement cannot be the immobile positions in -which some thing is successively at rest. On the other hand, if -movement is original, the interruption of movement, in whatever way -effected, will appear as things. The experience which confirms this -argument is the insight that everyone may obtain of the reality of his -own life as continuous movement, unceasing change, wherein all that -exists exists together in a present activity. To develop this argument -would exceed the limits of this book, and would be outside its purpose. -It is essential, however, that such a theory should be understood, for -clearly it is possible to hold not only that we are subject to -illusion, but that illusion is of the very nature of intellectual -apprehension. If, then, the understanding works illusion for the sake -of action, is it thereby disqualified as an instrument for the -attainment of truth? - -We are brought, then, to the critical point of our inquiry. If -illusion is the essential condition of human activity, if the -intellect, the very instrument of truth, {72} is itself affected, what -is to save us from universal scepticism? If the salt have lost his -savour, wherewith shall it be salted? The intellect with its frames -and moulds shapes living change and movement into fixed immobile -states; the process of knowing alters profoundly the reality known. -Must we not conclude that knowledge, however useful, is not true? And -to what shall we turn for truth? There is, indeed, if this be so, a -deeper irony in the question, What is truth? than even Pilate could -have imagined. We have absolutely no practical concern with truth--we -must leave it to the mystic, to the unpractical, the contemplative man -who has turned aside from the stern task of busy life. - -It is not so. The problem that seems so fundamental admits a quite -simple solution. Illusion is not error, nor is it falsehood; it is the -appearance of reality. It is the reality that appears, and when we -grasp the principle of utility we understand the shape that the -appearance must assume. This shape may seem to us a distortion, but in -recognising appearance we are in touch with reality, and practical -interest is the key that opens to us the interpretation of intellectual -experience. And it is not only by the intellect that we interpret the -nature of reality, for besides logic there is life, and in life we -directly perceive the reality that in logic we think about. - -The intellect, then, does not make truth, neither does it make reality; -it makes reality take the form of spatial things, and it makes things -seem to be the ground of reality. Were our nature not intellectual, if -all consciousness was intuitive, the world would not then appear as -things--there would be no things. But, notwithstanding that our world -is an illusion, it is not the less on that account a true world, and -our science is true knowledge, in the objective meaning of truth, for -{73} once an illusion is interpreted, it becomes an integral part of -the conception of reality. It would be easy to find abundant -illustration of this fact within science itself. Thus in the familiar -case of the straight stick which appears bent when partly immersed in -water, as soon as the illusion is understood as due to the different -refraction of light in media of different density, air and water, it -ceases to be an illusion. We then recognise that if a partly immersed -stick did not appear bent, it would really be bent. Again, the -illusion that clings to us most persistently throughout our experience -is that which is connected with movement and rest. The system of -movement in which we are ourselves carried along appears to us -stationary, while that which is outside it seems alone to move. In -very simple cases, such as viewing the landscape from a -railway-carriage window, habit has long caused the illusion to cease, -but we all remember the child's feeling that the trees and fields were -flying past us. The earth's motion never becomes to us a real -experience of movement, we accept the fact and never doubt the -scientific evidence on which it rests, yet we always speak and think of -sunrise and sunset; and this is not merely due to the accident that our -language was fixed before the nature of the celestial movement was -known, but to a natural illusion which it is far more convenient to -retain than to abandon. - -The fact of illusion is not the tenet of any particular philosophy, nor -even of philosophy itself; it is a recognised factor in common life and -in physical science, but in instancing the theory of Bergson's -philosophy I am choosing an extreme case. Berkeley held that illusion -is practically universal; Kant taught that the apparent objectivity of -phenomena is the form that the understanding imposes on things; but -Bergson teaches {74} not only that all material reality is illusion, -but also that this very illusion is the work of the intellect, that the -intellect is formed for this purpose, intellect and matter being -correlative, evolving _pari passu_. To such a doctrine there is of -necessity a positive side, for it is impossible that it can rest on -universal scepticism--scepticism both of knowledge and of the -instrument of knowledge. If the intellectual view of reality as solid -matter in absolute space is illusion, it must be possible to apprehend -the reality from which the judgment that it is illusion is derived. If -the intellect distorts, there must be an intuition which is pure, and -the relation between these will be the relation between reality and -appearance. Neither, then, is reality truth, nor appearance error. -There is a truth of appearance, a truth that is a value in itself, a -truth that is more than the mere negation that appearance is not -reality. The appearance is our hold upon the reality, our actual -contact with it, the mode and direction of our action upon it. What, -then, is error? It cannot consist in the fact that we know appearance -only, not reality, for we can only know reality by its appearance. It -cannot be an appearance behind which there is no reality, for non-being -cannot appear. It cannot be nothing at all or pure non-being, for to -think of absolute nothing is not to think. In error there is some -object of thought which is denied real being. What this is is the -problem of error. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE PROBLEM OF ERROR - -In the _Theætetus_ of Plato, Socrates has been discussing with -Theætetus what knowledge is, and when at last agreement seems to be -reached in the definition that {75} knowledge is true opinion, a new -difficulty occurs to Socrates: - -"There is a point which often troubles me and is a great perplexity to -me both in regard to myself and to others. I cannot make out the -nature or origin of the mental experience to which I refer. How there -can be false opinion--that difficulty still troubles the eye of my -mind. Do we not speak of false opinion, and say that one man holds a -false and another a true opinion, as though there were some natural -distinction between them? All things and everything are either known -or not known. He who knows, cannot but know; and he who does not know, -cannot know.... Where, then, is false opinion? For if all things are -either known or unknown, there can be no opinion which is not -comprehended under this alternative, and so false opinion is excluded." - -This difficulty may appear at first sight purely verbal, and we shall -perhaps be inclined to see the answer to it in the double use that we -make of the word knowledge. We use the word in two senses, in one of -which it includes all and everything that is or can be present to the -mind in thinking, and in another and narrower sense the word knowledge -means truth. It was in the narrow sense of the word that whatever is -not true is not knowledge that Socrates interpreted the meaning of the -Delphic oracle that had declared him the wisest of men. His wisdom -must be, he said, that whereas other men seemed to be wise and to know -something, he knew that he knew nothing. All men have opinion, but -opinion is not knowledge, though easily and generally mistaken for it. -His perplexity was to understand what actually this false opinion could -be which passed for knowledge. It could not be nothing at all, for -then it would simply mean ignorance; but in false opinion {76} some -object is present to the mind. Everything that the mind thinks of has -being. A thing may have being that does not exist if by existence is -meant the particular existence of an event in time, for most of the -things we think about are timeless--they are ideas, such as whiteness, -goodness, numbers and the properties of numbers, faith, love, and -such-like. All such ideas are called universals, because their reality -does not mean that they exist at one particular moment and no other, -but they are real, they have being. How, then, can there be anything -intermediate between being and not being, anything that is and also is -not, for this is what false opinion or error seems to be? - -There is, then, a problem of error, and it is quite distinct from the -problem of truth. The problem of truth is to know by what criterion we -can test the agreement of our ideas with reality; the problem of error -is to know how there can be false opinion. There is false opinion, of -this no one needs to be convinced; but where its place is in the -fundamental scheme of the mental process, in what precisely it -consists, whether it is purely a negation or whether it has a positive -nature of its own, this is the problem we have now to consider. - -There is an important distinction in logic between what is -contradictory and what is contrary. Of two contradictory propositions -one must be true, the other must be false; but of two contrary -propositions one must be false, but both may be false. Of -contradictory propositions one is always a pure negation, one declares -the non-existence of what the other affirms the existence; but of -contrary propositions each has a positive content, and both may be -false. A true proposition may be based on a false opinion, and it is -very important to have a clear idea of what we intend by false opinion. -We do not mean by false opinion such plainly false {77} propositions as -that two and two are five or that there may be no corners in a -square--such propositions are false, because they contradict -propositions that are self-evident. If anyone should seriously affirm -them, we should not, I think, say that such a one had a false opinion, -but that he failed, perhaps through some illusion, to understand the -meaning of the terms he was using. An example of what would now, I -suppose, be unquestionably regarded by everyone as error is that whole -body of opinion that found expression in the theory and practice of -witchcraft. This was once almost universally accepted, and though -probably at no period nor in any country was there not some one who -doubted or disbelieved, still the reasons of such doubt or disbelief -would probably be very different from those reasons which lead us to -reject it to-day. For witchcraft was grounded on a general belief that -spiritual agencies, beneficent and malign, were the cause of material -well-being or evil. This conception has now given place to the -mechanistic or naturalistic theory on which our modern physical science -is based. We interpret all physical occurrences as caused by material -agency. But this belief, quite as much as the belief in spiritual -agencies, is opinion, not knowledge, and it may be false. It is -conceivable that future generations will reject our scientific notions, -self-evident though they seem to us, as completely as we reject the -notions of the dark ages. It is even conceivable that the whole of our -modern science may come to appear to mankind as not even an -approximation to knowledge. Error, like illusion, may be universal. -No one whose opinion counts as a rational belief now holds that -sickness may be caused by the malign influence of the evil eye, and -that this influence may be neutralised by making the sign of the cross; -some, but very few, believe that a {78} sick man may be healed by the -prayers and anointing of righteous men; many believe that material -disease, however malignant, may be expelled from the body by faith; -while the majority of rational men, whatever independent religious -views they hold, regard sickness and disease as material in the -ordinary sense, and expect them to yield to drugs and treatment. Now, -of these various opinions some must be false, while all may be false. -Let us add some illustrations from philosophy. Some philosophers hold, -in common with general opinion, that sense experience is caused by -physical objects; others hold that there are no physical objects, but -that consciousness is the one and only reality; and there are others -who think that the reality that gives rise to our sense experience is -neither physical in the sense of a material thing, nor mental in the -sense of consciousness or thought, but is movement or change--change -that requires no support and is absolute. All these are opinions, and -may be false, and our belief that any one of them is true does not -depend on immediate experience, but on reasons. The best that can be -said in favour of any belief is that there is no reason for supposing -it false, and the worst that can be said against any belief is that -there is no reason for supposing it true. Our problem, then, is to -know what constitutes the nature of error in any one of these examples -if it is, as each one may be, false? - -The instances we have given are all of them propositions or judgments, -or else conceptions formed out of propositions or judgments, the -purpose of which is to interpret experience. The actual experience -itself, in so far as it consists of the actual presence of the object -to the mind aware of it, is, as we have seen, neither truth nor error; -it simply is what it is. It is the conceptions by which we interpret -this experience that are {79} true or false. And our problem is that -the meaning or content of a conception, that which is present to the -mind when we make a judgment, is precisely the same whether the -conception is true or false, there is no distinctive mark or feature by -which we can know that in the one case the object of thought is a real -or actual fact, in the other an opinion to which no reality -corresponds. And, further, it seems exceedingly difficult to -understand in what way a non-reality can be present to the mind at all. - -Let us now examine some attempts to solve this problem, and first of -all let us take the pragmatist solution. Pragmatism claims that it has -no difficulty in explaining error, because, as we have already seen, it -acknowledges no other test or criterion of truth except a pragmatic -one. Every proposition or judgment that we make must, in order to have -any meaning whatever, be relevant to some human purpose; every such -proposition is a truth-claim; and every truth-claim is tested by its -workability. Consequently, error is simply the failure of a -proposition to establish its claim by the practical test of working. -Propositions marked by such failure are errors. As there is no truth -independent of time, place, and circumstance, no irrelevant truth, no -truth independent of the conditions under which its claim is put -forward, there is no truth that may not become error. No judgment, -according to pragmatism, is an error pure and simple--that is to say, -it cannot come into existence as error, for it comes claiming truth, -and maintaining that claim until challenged; it becomes an error in -retrospect only, and always in relation to another judgment which -corrects it. Error does not characterise a class of judgments; it is -something that happens to a judgment, it is a judgment whose -truth-claim is rejected in reference to another judgment {80} which -succeeds. The essential thing in the pragmatist doctrine of error is -that in claiming to be true a judgment is not challenging comparison -with some independent reality, nor is it claiming to belong to a -timeless order of existence--to be eternal; it is claiming to fulfil -the particular purpose for which it has been called forth, whether that -purpose be practical or theoretical. - -Let us now consider the explanation of error offered by the idealist -philosophy. In this view only the whole truth is wholly true; the -Absolute, as a perfect, concrete, individual system, is the ideal, and -all that falls short of it can only possess a degree of truth--a degree -which is greater or less according as it approximates to the ideal. -The degrees of truth are not quantitative, not a mixture of truth and -error, but a nearer or more distant approach to the ideal. There can -be no absolute error, because if truth is the whole, error, if it -exists at all, must in some way be included in truth. Clearly error -cannot as such be truth, and therefore it must follow that, in the -whole, error loses its character of error, and finds reconciliation of -its contradiction to truth. Error, then, if it is something, and not a -pure negation, is partial or incomplete truth; the perplexity and -contradiction that it gives rise to are incidental to our partial view. -Knowledge, it must seem to us, can exist only for omniscience. Unless -we know everything, we know nothing. - -These two doctrines are in a sense the exact antithesis of one another. -They agree together in this, that in each the explanation of error -follows as a consequence of the conception of the nature of truth. The -pragmatist theory implies that there is no truth in any real sense, but -only more or less successful error. The idealist theory implies that -there is no real error, but only a variety in the degree of truth. - -{81} - -Most people, however, are convinced that truth and error are not -related to one another, nor to the circumstances that call forth belief -or disbelief. Let us now examine a theory that recognises this. There -are false judgments, and they need explanation; error has a nature of -its own. If a judgment is false, it is absolutely and unalterably -false; if it is true, it is unconditionally true and with no reserve. -No logical process, no psychological disposition, can make what is -false true. Error must lie in the nature of knowledge, and to discover -that nature we must understand the theory of knowledge and determine -the exact nature of the mental act in knowing. The first essential is -to distinguish the kind of knowledge to which truth and error can -apply. We pointed out in the second chapter that all knowledge rests -ultimately on immediate experience. In immediate experience the -relation between the mental act of knowing and the object that is known -is so simple that any question as to truth or error in regard to it is -unmeaning. To question the truth of immediate experience is to -question its existence; it is to ask if it is what it is, and this is -plainly unmeaning. But thinking, we said, is questioning experience in -order to know its content or meaning, and in thinking, the simplicity -of the relation which unites the mind to its object in immediate -experience is left behind, and a logical process of very great -complexity takes its place. It is in this complexity that the -possibility of error lies. - -Let us look at it a little more closely. Knowing is a relation which -unites two things, one the mind that knows, the other the thing known. -In every act of knowing, something is present to the mind; if knowing -is simply awareness of this actually present something, we call it -immediate experience, we are acquainted with the object. But our -knowledge is not only of objects {82} immediately present to the mind -and with which we are therefore acquainted. Knowledge embraces the -past and future and the distant realms of space. Indeed were knowledge -only of what is actually present to the mind, it is difficult to -imagine that we could, in the ordinary meaning of the word, know -anything at all. I may be thinking, for example, of an absent friend; -all that is present to my mind is, it may be, a memory image, a faint -recall of his appearance on some one occasion, or perhaps a -recollection of the tone of his voice, or it may be the black marks on -white paper which I recognise as his handwriting. This image is -present to my mind, but the image is not the object, my friend, about -whom I think and make endless judgments, true and false. So also, if -what is present to the mind is affecting me through the external -senses, if it is a sense impression, it is clear that what is actually -present is not the whole object of which I am aware, but only a very -small part of it, or, it may be, no part of it at all, but something, a -sound, or an odour, that represents it. The immediate data of -consciousness are named by some philosophers sense data, by others, -presentations, by others images, and there is much controversy as to -their nature and existence, but with this controversy we are not here -concerned--we are seeking to make clear an obvious distinction, namely, -the distinction between knowledge by acquaintance and knowledge by -description. - -What kind of knowledge is it that we acquire by description? Knowledge -about things with which we are not first acquainted. The most -important knowledge that we possess or acquire is knowledge of objects -which we know only by the knowledge we have about them--objects that we -know about without knowing them. They are not direct impressions on -our senses, {83} nor are they ideas known in actual experience. We -make judgments about them, and the subjects about which we make these -judgments are really composed of these judgments that we make about -them. To go back to our illustrations, we may know a great deal about -the evil eye, a malignant influence, disease, faith, healing, -causality, physical objects, without any acquaintance with them, -without even knowing that they exist. Such knowledge is descriptive, -and the objects are descriptions. Knowledge by description is never -quite simple, and is often very complex, for, besides the relation of -the mental act to the object known, there are the terms and relations -which are the elements in the judgment and the relations of the -judgments themselves. If we analyse a judgment, every word in which it -is expressed, whether it is a noun or a verb or a preposition or a -conjunction, conveys a distinct meaning, indicates a term or a -relation, each of which can be made a distinct object to the mind, and -all of which are combined in the single meaning the judgment expresses. -It is in this complexity that the possibility of error lies, and the -possibility increases as the complexity increases. All the terms and -the relations which a judgment contains depend on the knowledge we have -by acquaintance--that is to say, we are ultimately dependent on our -actual experience for all knowledge whatever, whether it is -acquaintance or description, for we can only describe in terms with -which we are acquainted; but in the judgment these elements are -combined into new objects, or a certain relation is declared to exist -between objects, and it is this combination of the elements of the -judgment that involves its truth or falsehood. - -If this view of the nature of the mental act of knowing is accepted, we -are able to understand how false opinion {84} is consistent with the -fact that all knowledge is truth. We escape both the alternatives that -seemed to Socrates the only possible ones. "When a man has a false -opinion, does he think that which he knows to be some other thing which -he knows, and knowing both is he at the same time ignorant of both? Or -does he think of something which he does not know as some other thing -which he does not know?" No, neither; in error he thinks that -something that he knows is in a relation that he knows to some other -thing that he knows, when in fact that relation is not relating the two -things. The false proposition is not one in which the constituent -terms and relations are unknown or non-existent, but one in which a -combination of these terms and relations is thought to exist when in -fact it does not exist; and the true proposition is that in which the -combination thought to exist does exist. We can, therefore, if this -account be true, at least know what false opinion or error can be, -whether or not we have any means of deciding in regard to any -particular opinion that it is false. - -There is one other theory, the last we shall notice. It is in one -respect the most important of all, namely, that it is the most direct -attempt to grapple with the problem of error. It is founded on a -theory of knowledge which we owe mainly to the profound and acute work -of a German philosopher (Meinong), and which at the present time is -being keenly discussed. It is an attempt to determine more exactly -than has yet been done the fundamental scheme of the mental life and -development. The brief account that I am now offering, I owe to a -paper by Prof. G. F. Stout on "Some Fundamental Points in the Theory of -Knowledge." We have seen that the problem of error is the difficulty -there is in conceiving how there can be any real thing, any real {85} -object of thought, intermediate between being and not-being. Error -seems to exist and yet to have a nature which is a negation of -existence, and it seems therefore to be a downright contradiction when -we affirm that error or false opinion can _be_--that there is a real -object of thought when we judge falsely. This theory meets the -difficulty directly by distinguishing in the mental act of knowing a -process that is neither perceiving nor thinking of things, and that -involves neither believing nor disbelieving on the one hand nor -desiring or willing on the other: this is the process of supposing. -Corresponding to this mental act of supposing, there is a distinct kind -of object intended or meant by the mind--an object that is neither a -sense datum nor an idea, nor a judgment, but a supposition. Also and -again corresponding to this mental act of supposing and its intended -object the supposition, there is a mode of being which is neither -existence nor non-existence, but is named subsistence. A supposition, -it is said, does not exist--it subsists. This thesis, it will easily -be understood, is based on an analysis, and deals with arguments that -touch the most fundamental problems of theory of knowledge. Moreover, -its presentment is excessively technical, and only those highly trained -in the habit of psychological introspection and skilled in -philosophical analysis are really competent to discuss it. It is not -possible to offer here anything but a simple outline of the part of the -theory that concerns the present problem. The actual experience of -knowing is a relation between two things, one of which is a mental -_act_, the act of perceiving or thinking or having ideas, and the other -is an _object_, that which is perceived or thought of. The act is a -particular mental existence, it is the act of a psychical individual. -The object is not included within the actual experience which is the -knowing of it, it is {86} that which is meant or intended by the -experience. The act, then, is the mental process of meaning or -intending, the object the thing meant or intended. The mental act -differs according to the kind of object intended. The act of -perceiving is the direction of the mind towards sense data and ideas; -the act of judging is the direction of the mind towards judgments or -propositions about things, propositions that affirm or deny relations -between things; the act of supposing is different from both these--it -is the direction of the mind towards suppositions. Suppositions differ -from ideas in this, that they may be either positive or negative, -whereas ideas are never negative. This may seem to contradict -experience. Can we not, for example, have an idea of not-red just as -well as an idea of red? No, the two ideas can easily be seen to be one -and the same; in each case it is red we are actually acquainted with, -and the difference is in affirming or denying existence to the one -idea. The difference is in our judgment, which may be affirmative or -negative. A supposition is like a judgment in this respect; it may be -either affirmative or negative, but it differs from a judgment in -another respect, that while a judgment always conveys a conviction, -always expresses belief or disbelief, a supposition does not--it is -neither believed nor disbelieved. - -Before I show the application of this analysis of knowledge to the -problem of error, let me try and clear up its obscurity, for -undoubtedly it is difficult to comprehend. Its difficulty lies in -this, that though all the ideas with which it deals are quite -familiar--suppositions, real and unreal possibilities, fulfilled and -non-fulfilled beliefs--yet it seems to run counter to all our notions -of the extreme simplicity of the appeal to reality. It seems strange -and paradoxical to our ordinary habit {87} of thinking to affirm that -there are real things and real relations between things which though -real yet do not exist, and also that non-existent realities are not -things that once were real but now are nought--they are things that -subsist. Yet this is no new doctrine. The most familiar case of such -realities is that of numbers. The Greeks discovered that numbers do -not exist--that is to say, that their reality is of another kind to -that which we denote by existence. Numbers are realities, otherwise -there would be no science of mathematics. Pythagoras (about 540-500 -B.C.) taught that numbers are the reality from which all else is -derived. And there are many other things of the mind that seem indeed -to be more real than the things of sense. It is this very problem of -error that brings into relief this most important doctrine. - -Now let us apply this theory of the supposition to the problem of -error, and we shall then see how there can be an object present to the -mind when we judge falsely, and also that the object is the same -whether we judge truly or falsely. Suppositions are real -possibilities; they are alternatives that may be fulfilled or that may -never be fulfilled. These real possibilities, or these possible -alternatives, are objects of thought; they do not belong to the mental -act of thinking; they are not in the mind, but realities present to the -mind. In mere supposing they are present as alternatives; in judging, -we affirm of them or deny of them the relation to general reality that -they are fulfilled. Judgments therefore are true or false accordingly -as the fulfilment they affirm does or does not agree with reality. In -this way, then, we may answer the perplexing question, How can there be -an object of thought in a false judgment? The answer is, that the -objects of thought about which we make judgments are suppositions, and -our judgments {88} concern their fulfilment, and their fulfilment is a -relation external to them--it is their agreement or disagreement with -reality. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -CONCLUSION - -I will now briefly sum up the argument of this book. The problem of -truth is to discover the nature of the agreement between the things of -the mind, our ideas, and the reality of which ideas are the knowledge. -We call the agreement truth. What is it? We have seen that there are -three different answers, namely--(1) That it is a correspondence -between the idea and the reality; (2) That it is the coherence of the -idea in a consistent and harmonious whole; and (3) That it is a value -that we ourselves give to our ideas. - -The theory that truth is correspondence we found to offer this -difficulty. To say of an idea that it corresponds with reality -supposes a knowledge of reality in addition to and distinct from the -knowledge that is the idea, and yet the knowledge of reality is the -idea of it. And if it be said that not the idea but the judgment is -what corresponds with reality in truth, this equally supposes a -knowledge of reality that is not a judgment. If, as the common sense -of mankind requires us to believe, the reality that is known by us -exists in entire independence of our relation of knowing to it, how can -we state this fact without falling into contradiction in the very -statement of it? This is the difficulty of a realist theory of -knowledge. - -We next examined the theory that truth is coherence, and this seemed to -present to us an unattainable ideal. {89} Only the whole truth is -wholly true. We followed the idealist argument on which it is based, -and this seemed to lead us inevitably, in the doctrine of the Absolute, -to the paradox that unless we know everything we know nothing. - -In pragmatism we met a new principle, the proposal to regard truth as a -value. Truth, it is said, is something that happens to ideas; they -become true, or are made true. There is no criterion, no absolute -standard, independent of ideas to which they must conform if they are -judged to be true. The value of an idea is its practical usefulness as -tested by its workability. Truth is what works. This led us to -criticise the concept of utility. We found that it is impossible to -identify utility with truth even if we include theoretical utility in -its widest meaning, because over and above the usefulness and -workability of an idea there always remains the question of its -relation to reality. But we recognised in the principle of truth-value -an important advance towards a theory of knowledge. - -The solution of the problem of truth, it became clear, must be sought -in a theory of knowledge. Have we, in the new theory of life and -knowledge of Bergson's philosophy, an answer to the question, What is -truth? Yes, but not in the form of a direct solution of the dilemma -which confronts us in every theory that accepts the independence of -knowledge and reality--rather in a theory of knowledge in which the -dilemma does not and cannot arise. - -The theory of Bergson is that in the intuition of life we know reality -as it is, our knowledge is one with our knowing; and in the intellect -we possess a mode of knowing which is equally immediate but the -essential quality of which is that it externalises or spatialises -reality. We understand this mode of knowing in {90} recognising the -purpose it serves, its practical advantage to us. The theory, -therefore, resembles pragmatism in bringing the concept of utility to -the aid of its theory of knowledge. But, we insisted, the resemblance -is outward only, for the essential tenet of pragmatism, that truth -itself is a value, is fatal to the theory. It would mean, in fact, -that not the mode of knowing, that is the intellect, but the actual -knowledge itself, is a practical endowment. But the problem of truth -arises in a new form, for the practical utility of the intellect -consists in the illusion which it produces in us. It makes the flowing -reality appear as fixed states. How, then, can universal illusion be -consistent with the possession of truth? To answer this question we -examined the nature of illusion and its distinction from error. - -In the last chapter we have dealt with the problem of error. The fact -of error presented a difficulty distinct from the question, What is -truth? for it implied a real object of thought, of which it seemed -equally contradictory to say that it exists and that it does not exist. -In the solutions that have been proposed we saw how the problem is -forcing philosophers to examine again the fundamental processes of the -mind and the nature of the universe they reveal. - - - - -{91} - -BIBLIOGRAPHY - -The _Theætetus_ of Plato is an exposition of the problem of truth and -error as it presented itself in ancient philosophy. The quotation I -have made from it, and also the quotations from the _Republic_, are -from Jowett's translation. - -The most clear exposition of what I have called the realistic doctrine -is _The Problems of Philosophy_, by the Hon. Bertrand Russell, in the -Home University Library (Williams and Norgate). I have adopted Mr. -Russell's terms, "acquaintance" and "description"; the distinction they -denote seems to me of fundamental importance, and Mr. Russell's -doctrine on this point a permanent addition to philosophy. Mr. -Russell's theory, that in the judgment what is present to the mind is a -relation which is external to the terms of the judgment, and that -agreement or disagreement between this relation and reality makes the -truth or falsehood of the judgment, can only be appreciated if studied -in connection with his general scheme. - -The classical work on what I have called the modern idealist doctrine -(I have avoided the word intellectualist) is Mr. F. H. Bradley's -_Appearance and Reality_. I have attempted to give the main lines of -the theory in my chapter on "The Absolute." Although it is a book for -advanced students, it is not a closed volume even to the uninstructed. -The brilliant dialectical skill of the {92} author is acknowledged and -may be enjoyed by those who reject or may fail to understand his -conclusion. Mr. Harold H. Joachim's _The Nature of Truth_ (Oxford, -Clarendon Press) is a most able and scholarly argument for the -coherence theory of truth. - -The principal expositions of Pragmatism are the works of William James -and of Dr. F. C. S. Schiller. William James' _The Will to Believe_ was -the first distinct formulation of the principle. _Pragmatism, a New -Name for some Old Ways of Thinking_, is the fullest and most systematic -statement of the doctrine. _The Meaning of Truth_ is a defence of the -doctrine against the criticism that had been meted out to it -unsparingly. All three books are published by Longmans. - -Dr. F. C. S. Schiller is uncompromising in his advocacy of a complete -return to the doctrine taught in the ancient world by Protagoras. He -has defended that philosopher against the arguments of Plato in a -polemical pamphlet entitled _Plato or Protagoras?_ (Oxford, Blackwell). -An Essay on "Axioms as Postulates" in _Personal Idealism_ (Macmillan & -Co.), and two volumes of collected essays on _Humanism_ (Macmillan & -Co.), set forth the doctrine, which he prefers to call Humanism, with -great force, abundant illustration, and the relief of no small amount -of humour. - -For an account of the theories of Bergson, I may mention my own little -book in this series, _Henri Bergson: The Philosophy of Change_. M. -Bergson's books are _Time and Freewill_, _Matter and Memory_, and -_Creative Evolution_. To these has been recently added _An -Introduction to Metaphysics_ (Macmillan, 1912). It is the -republication in English of an article written in 1903, which has been -for a long time out of print. It is a short and clear statement of the -doctrine of Intuition. - -{93} - -The important studies of Professor G. F. Stout are not easily -accessible to the general reader, as they consist in contributions to -philosophical journals and proceedings of learned societies. The essay -referred to in the last chapter, "Some Fundamental Points in the Theory -of Knowledge," is in the _St. Andrews Quincentenary Publications_, 1911 -(Maclehose). I may mention also his essay on "Error" in _Personal -Idealism_, noticed above, and "The Object of Thought and Real Being," -in _Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society_, 1911. - - - - -{94} - -INDEX - -NDX - Bergson, Mons. Henri, 63, 69, 73, 89 - Berkeley, 20, 32, 73 - - Coherence Theory, 25, 27 - Correspondence Theory, 24, 27 - - Discovery of Planet Neptune, 59 - - Faith-attitude of Pragmatism, 55 - Formal Logic, 10 - - Hegel, 44 - Hume, 30 - - Intellectualism, 44 - - James, William, 44 - - Kant, 26, 27, 42, 73 - - Meinong, 84 - - Pierce, C. S., 44 - Plato, 11, 44, 67, 68, 74 - Pluralistic Realism, 24 - Poincaré, Henri, 54 - Pragmatist Theory of Truth, 55 - Primary Qualities, 32 - Protagoras, His book _The Truth_, 10, 11; His maxim, 44 - Pythagoras, 87 - - Relativity, Principle of, 48, 53, 62 - _Republic_ of Plato, 67 - - S. Anselm's Argument, 29, 31, 41 - Schiller, Dr. F. C. S., 44 - Self, The Idea of, 36 - Socrates, 11, 74 - Space and Time, 33, 34, 36 - Stout, Prof. G. F., 84 - - Theætetus of Plato, 11, 74 - - Unknowable, The, 29, 37 - - Zeno, 34 -ENDX - - - - Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & Co. - Edinburgh & London - - - - - * * * * * - - - - -THE PEOPLE'S BOOKS - -THE FIRST HUNDRED VOLUMES - -(Spring 1913) - - - SCIENCE - - 1. The Foundations of Science . . . By W. C. D. Whetham, M.A., F.R.S. - 2. Embryology--The Beginnings of Life . . . By Prof. Gerald Leighton, M.D. - 3. Biology . . . By Prof. W. D. Henderson, M.A. - 4. Zoology: The Study of Animal Life . . . By Prof. E. W. MacBride, - M.A., F.R.S. - 5. 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