On truth
Mivart, St. George Jackson, 1827-1900
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'4’; ■,••',• . / •, - i/* } W * xr> r ■ I < • ■ * t *t '■V ♦XT* \ i v »■. r k. f K f ' .'W .■> - '• ^ ’ ' - '.* ^ » / t ON TRUTH ON TRUTH A SYSTEMATIC INQUIRY BY ST. GEORGE MIVART Ph.D., M.D., F.R.S. BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY CHESTNUT HILL, MASS, LONDON BEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., i, PATERNOSTER SQUARE 1889 •t I \ I ./TILS' {The rights of translation and of reproiuction are reserred.) TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF NORTHUMBERLAND, K.G., PRESIDENT OF THE ROYAL INSTITUTION. My dear Lord Duke, In dedicating, by kind permission, this work to your Grace, I desire to give expression to feelings of both esteem and gratitude. I desire to express my esteern for one whose beneficent career has long practically exemplified the precepts of sound philosophy, and my gratitude for that kindness which has enabled me to enjoy the charm of a retreat so considerately selected in harm.ony with my tastes and wishes. ' With much respect, I am, My dear Lord Duke, Yours most sincerely, ST. GEORGE MIVART. Hurstcote, Chilworth, lVhits7inday, May 20, 1888. PREFACE. In the following pages the author has sought to place at the disposal of his readers as brief and plain an account as he could render of the results at which he has arrived in a life’s pursuit of truth. He has purposely avoided con¬ troversy as much as possible ; not even having referred to world-renowned philosophers, whose systems have, never¬ theless, much occupied his thoughts, and even for a time gained his assent. He has acted thus partly because con¬ troversies which relate to the most important questions treated of here have been dealt with by him in other works, but mainly because he is convinced that it is not by negative criticism, but by synthetic construction alone, that the most useful scientific work can now be done. The author presents this volume to the public partly in the hope that his effort may make some slight contribution towards such building up of a solid temple of truth, but with a much stronger wish that it may impel other men, better gifted or more advantageously circumstanced, to further develop and more effectively express the truths herein presented. CONTENTS. ■ ■ •<>• SECTION 1. FUNDAMENTAL FACTS AND PRINCIPLES. CHAPTER PAGE I. Evidence and  .and Beliefs ... .;. ... ... 60 SECTION II. IDEALISM. VII. Idealism and Realism ... ... ... 71 VIII. Idealism and Science ... ... ...  and New ... ... .. ... 130 SECTION III. MAN XII. Structure of the Body... .. ... ... 145 XIII. The Activities of the Body ... ... .. 134 XIV, Our Lower Mental Powers ... ... ... 178 XV. Our Higher  ... 324 XXIII. The Animal Faculties .. ... ... ... 342 XXIV. The External Relations of Organisms  I. Evidence and Certainty II. Self-knowledge... III. Memory IV. Home Truths ... V. Reasoning ... VI. Assertions and Beliefs ... PAGE 3 15 29 38 53 60 V- ON TRUTH. \ - »Ot ■ CHAPTER 1. EVIDENCE AND CERTAINTY. ✓ Certainty exists, and universal doubt is unreasonable. There must be ultimate truths which do not need proof. The ground on which we believe them is their self-evidence, and no better criterion is possible. The pursuit of truth mid of truths — Need of certainty — Two mental associations — Certainty exists — Unhealthy and irrational scepti¬ cism — Reflex mental acts — Some views as to what truths are most indisputable — This inquiry refers to the grounds and criterion of beliefs^ not to their origins — Ultimate truths cannot be proved — Self evidence is the criterion of truth — General^ or abstract^ neces¬ sary truths — Three orders of fundamental certainty — Is a better criterion than evidence Possible f —The task of the inquirer after truth. Most of us are eager for truth. The popularity of science and the spread of criticism show it. The spirit of inquiry was possibly as keen three hundred years ago, though, perhaps, mainly prompted by ideas of advantage in this world or the next. Now, there are multitudes who seek truth * for its own sake, apart from any advan¬ tage it may bring with it. A passionate devotion to truth is the well-founded boast of our scientific worthies, who are above all things anxious not “ to believe a lie.” * A special inquiry as to our perception of truth, will be made in our seventeenth chapter. 4 ON TRUTH. Yet this popular pursuit of truth is mainly an indirect pursuit of it. It is not, after all, so much a pursuit of “truth” as a pursuit of “truths.” It is not the endea¬ vour to discover what is most certain and fundamental in all knowledge, but an endeavour to become acquainted with facts and laws of different branches of knowledge. Thepursuii There is one very important difference between these two quests : a student of any branch of science must, if he would succeed, follow the footsteps of its masters and, at least provisionally, abide by their dicta. It is true that no bonds are imposed except such as originate from, and are justifiable by, observation and deduction. It is true that a questioning attitude is emphatically the scientific atti¬ tude, and that in the bracing air of free inquiry physical science has thriven wonderfully, and history has become a pursuit very much more attractive and fruitful of results than ever before. Nevertheless it is impossible for the student of science to dispense with the observations and reasonings of his contemporaries and predecessors, and he will risk failure if he rashly refuses to allow them their proper weight, or to accept some of them, at first, simply upon authority. In the pursuit of truth itself, it is other¬ wise. The inquirer, in this case, can only appeal to, and must abide by the declarations of, his own reason. He must clearly see the truth attending every step he takes, from the very first. Such direct inquiry concerning truth, though it is not and is not likely to become a popular pur¬ suit, yet counts many more followers amongst us to-day than it did half a century ago. One cause of this increase, is the advance of physical science with its eager spirit of inquiry. Questions more and more fundamental concerning each branch of physical science naturally lead to questions which underlie all physical science. This impulse has been keenly felt by many of our own scientific leaders, who have largely promoted inquiry of this fundamental kind. Now, modesty, no less than caution, is a characteristic of the true man of science. Naturally, then, our scientific leaders have sought, and sought with success, to impress upon their followers a modest estimate of their power of knowing, and the fact that it has very definite limits. EVIDENCE AND CEE TAIN TV. 5 But every one is aware how apt men are, in trying to avoid one extreme, to fall into an opposite one. Doubt and scepticism, which are not only legitimate but necessary in science, are indeed doubly so in the inquiry concern¬ ing truth itself. Therein we should assent to nothing which is not clearly and evidently true to our minds. Nevertheless there may be exaggeration in this as in other things. It is possible to be so strongly impressed by the existence and legitimacy of doubt, as to forget the existence and legitimacy of certainty. Yet it is manifest that life could not be carried on as it is, if we had not practical certainty as to its ordinary concerns. We may say more than this ; for with regard to many matters which are not of ordinary concern, we have now greater certainty than our forefathers had. Side by side with an increasing scepticism, there has run along an increasing certainty. Thus with respect to the world we live in, most educated men are now certain as to its daily and annual revolutions, as also that its crust is largely composed of sedimentary rocks, containing remains of animals and plants more or less different from those which now live. No one, indeed, can deny that we may rely with absolute confidence and entire certainty upon a variety of such assertions. Science constantly advances, but its advance would be impossible if we could not, by observations and inferences, become so certain of facts pre¬ viously doubtful, as to be able to make them starting-points for fresh observations and inferences. Nevertheless the certainty which most men feel about such matters cannot, from the nature of the case, be due to their own observa¬ tions, but must depend upon their confidence in the generally received opinions of experts. The degree of their confi¬ dence also, will vary according to circumstances, as is the case with respect to their trust in human testimony gene¬ rally. A reasonable man who has never been to Berlin and who never saw Napoleon III., w ill yet be absolutely certain as to the present existence of that city and the past existence of that man. He may feel very differently, how¬ ever, with respect to some remote antarctic land or ancient Egyptian king. In spite, then, of increased and increasing Need of certainty. 6 ON TRUTH. Two mental a: sociations. Certainty exists. certainty as to matters scientifically established, it is none the less true that, as a general rule, things which are very distant, or which happened a long time ago, are known to us only in round-about ways, and we feel more or less uncertainty about them. On the other hand, our convic¬ tions concerning the things about us at any given moment can be tested by our senses, and we are practically certain regarding them. Now, if we have had several times two feelings or ideas in close conjunction, thenceforth when one of these comes to be freshly experienced, the other tends to arise spontaneously in the mind, which is said to have “associated” the two together. Thus it comes about that we associate a feeling of “ uncertainty ” with statements about what is remote, and a feeling of “certainty” with what concerns the present. The value of this mental association we will consider later on. A second mental association which men commonly form is that between “ what is especially true ” and what is “ demonstrable by reasoning.” This association is due to the fact that most of our knowledge is gained indirectly and by inference. No truths are brought more strikingly home to our minds than those mathematical ones demonstrated by Euclid. We commonly ask for the “proof” of any proposition we are called on to believe, and we feel a special certainty about statements which we know we can prove by un¬ answerable reasoning. Thus it is many men have, rightly or wrongly, a feeling that “ to believe anything which cannot be proved,” is “ to believe blindly.” It is very important to note these two facts of asso¬ ciation with respect to our feelings of certainty. As to matters of everyday life, as distinguished from scientific truths, though we therein generally act on reasonable probabilities, yet certainty meets us at every turn. Thus we are absolutely certain that a door must be either shut or open ; that if having been open it is now shut, some person or thing must have shut it ; that we cannot both spend our money and keep it ; that we feel warm or sad if we have either of those feelings ; that we are the same individuals in the afternoon as we were in the morning ; that if every man of a company has a red coat, then each EVIDENCE AND CERTAINTY. 7 man must have one ,* that half a loaf is better than no bread ; that England is an island ; and that if we throw down a quantity of printer’s type it will not so fall as to form a set of verses. Some readers may be impatient at meeting with assertions seemingly as trivial as obviously true. But it is needful to recall to mind the fact that abso¬ lute and complete certainty does really exist with respect to such obvious truths, however little we may be given to advert to the fact. It is now especially needful to make these simple truths clear, on account of the before-mentioned present danger of an exaggerated scepticism. Blind dis¬ belief is as fatal to science as blind belief, and it is possible for men to eet themselves into a diseased condition of general unhealthy o ^ - - ctfid distrust and uncertainty. Experience proves that they irrational may bring themselves to doubt or deny the plainest truths,, the evidence of their senses, the reality of truth or virtue, or even their own existence. It is well, then, distinctly to recognize that universal doubt is scepticism run mad, as the following observations may serve to show. If a man doubts whether there is such a thing as rational speech, or whether words can be used twice over by any two people in the same sense, then plainly we cannot profitably aigue with him. But if, on account of his very absurdity, we cannot refute him, it is no less plain that he cannot defend his scepticism. Were he to attempt to do so, then he would show, by that ' very attempt, that he really had confidence in reason and in language, however he might verbally deny it. Universal scepticism is foolish, because it refutes itself. If a sceptic says, “ Nothing is certain,” he thereby asserts the certainty of uncertainty. He makes an affirmation which, if true, ab.solutely contradicts both him and his system. But a man who affirms what the system he professes to adopt forbids him to affirm, and who declares that he believes what he also declares to be unbelievable, can hardly com¬ plain if he is called foolish. No system can be true, and no reasoning can be valid, which inevitably ends in absurdity. Such scepticism, then, cannot be the mark of an exception¬ ally intellectual mind, but of an exceptionally foolish one. It also follows that every position which necessarily leads to such scepticism must itself be essentially unreasonable. 8 ON TRUTH. Reflex 7nental acts. Some views as to what truths are most i7idis- putable. Having, then, recognized the existence of certainty and the fact that some things are certain, the next step in the pursuit of truth would seem to be an endeavour to discover “what things are especially true,” or “what are those propositions the certainty of which is most indisputable, and which are evidently and supremely true ? ” In an inquiry concerning what our mind tells us about its own judgments, there is a special difficulty, arising from our organization. For the mind applies itself easily enough to external objects, but has much greater difficulty in directing its gaze in upon itself. We are spontaneously impelled to form judgments about external things, or “direct judg¬ ments,” but we are not so impelled to reflect on our • judgments, compare them one with another, and judge about them. These reflections of the mind inwards on itself are called “reflex mental acts,” and the judgments which the so reflecting mind makes about its own judg¬ ments are “reflex judgments.” Such difficulty as may be experienced in making these reflections must, however, be got over by any one who would successfully engage in the quest for “ truth ; ” nor will there be much difficulty in getting over it. For this faculty, like our other faculties, may be strengthened by exercise, and all that is ordinarily needed to perfect it is patient perseverance. Now, some very estimable persons will tell us that the especially true and most indisputable propositions, are those which can be shown by reasoning to be necessarily true. Others will declare them to be propositions the truth of which has not been impressed upon us by habit or by any association of ideas, but is what they call “ a genuine testimony of consciousness,” spontaneously arising in the mind of an infant as its intelligence dawns. Some good persons are persuaded that we must select as the truest propositions, those which are not gained by expe¬ rience and are called d priori^ or which have been implanted in our nature by a benevolent and all-wise Creator. There are, on the other hand, very able writers who afifrm that we cannot pick out any especially indis¬ putable propositions at all, because the whole of our ideas are simply due to mental association, and are the result EVIDENCE AND CERTAINTY. 9 of the experiences and prejudices not only of countless generations of mankind, but of an indefinite number of non-human ancestors also. But one and the same answer must be made to all these different representations. The matters they refer to are very interesting, but the problem we have to solve is one entirely independent of them. It has nothing to do with questions about the origin of our judgments, or with reasonings about their truth. Indeed, no proposition capable of proof can possibly be one the certainty of which is fundamental. For in order to prove anything by reason¬ ing, we must show that it necessarily follows as a conse¬ quence from other truths on the truth of which its own truth depends. Such other truths must therefore be deemed more indisputable than the thing they are called in to prove. Evidently we cannot prove everything. How¬ ever long may be our arguments, we must at last come to ultimate statements which must be taken for granted, as we must take for granted the validity of the process of reasoning itself If we had to prove either the validity of that process or such ultimate statements, then either we must argue in a circle, or our process of proof must go on for ever without coming to a conclusion. In other words, there could be no such thing as proof at all. Similarly no inquiries concerning the origin of ideas can suffice to point out those which are the least disputable. Valuable and useful as such inquiries are in other ways, they cannot suffice. To be conclusive, they must depend on some general affirmation such as, “ No beliefs due to the associa¬ tion of animal feelings, or of ideas, can be most certain truths,” or, “ Whatever idea is d priori^ or God-implanted, or manifested in the dawning intelligence of an infant, must be a most certain truth.” But since the truth of these propositions themselves is questioned by many persons, whatever depends on them can have no pretensions to be evidently and supremely true. And, indeed, it is by no means clear why a surpassing keenness of mental vision should be attributed to babies or why our earliest beliefs should be thought less fallible than the beliefs of our maturity. Again, if the outcome lO ON TRUTH. This inquiry refers to the grounds and criterion o/ beliefs, not to their origin. Ultimate truths cannot be proved. of the first sensations and cognitions of infants are to be taken as the appointed means for revealing to us ulti¬ mate truths, why should judgments be necessarily dis¬ credited if they come to us by the agency of the yet earlier sensations and cognitions of animal ancestors ? Why, asain, are beliefs to be considered less certain and ultimate if they be due to the association of sensations and ideas, than if they be due to spontaneous, original impulses ? All the phenomena of nature take place according to certain laws, and it is difficult to see w'hy, of the various laws regu¬ lating our mental activity, we are to regard those which determine our mental associations as pernicious and mis¬ leading in comparison with those which regulate our spon¬ taneous, original beliefs — if any such we have. That a judgment is “ God-implanted,” is a good reason for accept¬ ing it with those who already believe in “an all- wise and benevolent Creator.” That it cannot claim universal acceptance, however, is clear from the fact that so many books have been written to refute persons who afhrm that we have no sufficient evidence of God’s existence, or, at least, of His goodness. But, as before observed, all inquiries into the origin and causes of our beliefs, valuable and interesting as they are for the study of the human mind, are out of place in an inquiry as to what judgments are evidently and supremely certain. The latter inquiry refers to the grounds of belief which any judgment may exhibit in and by itself — to a criterion of its truth — and not at all to the causes which have produced it. Yet there are philosophers who have been so busy in trying to find out how different propositions have come to be believed, that they have neglected the more fundamental inquiry why they should be believed — what grounds of cer¬ tainty they exhibit. By the “ grounds of certainty ” which any judgment can show, it is not, of course, meant any¬ thing external to it. Such a meaning would imply a proof of the judgment, and would involve us in an endless and resultless series of arguments, as already pointed out. The only ground of certainty which an ultimate and supremely certain judgment can possess, is its self-evidence — its own manifest ceitainty in and by itself. All proof, or reasoning. EVIDENCE AND CERTAINTY. I [ must ultimately rest upon truths which carry with them their own evidence aiKTHo^ot, therefore, need proof. Some persons on first meeting with this assertion may be startled at the suggestion of believing anything whatever on “its own evidence,” fancying that it is equivalent to a suggestion that they should believe blindly. This is due to the second of those too mental associations to which attention was called in the earlier part of this chapter, namely, that association which induces a feeling that to believe anything without proof is to believe it blindly, but that we do not believe blindly that which comes to us as the result of a process of reasoning. And yet it is manifest, on reflection, that if it is not blind credulity to believe what is evident to us by means of something else, it must be still less blind to believe that which is directly evident in | and by itself! No demonstration of Euclid can be more i than “evidently” true, and it is evidence, and evidence alone, which gives certainty to any proposition whatever. e/" But here once more an objection may occur to the reader, for he may naturally object that multitudes of men take as evidently true the most mistaken judgments — as, for example, that a railway carriage in which they are seated is in motion, instead of another really moving beside it ; or that it is the motion of the sun itself which causes it to \ “rise” and “set.” But no judgment is to be deemed an evident one unless all readily available tests of its truth h^ye-.b£e^n made use of. We must examine whether it be the opinion of our fellow-men, whether it is supported by the testimony of our senses, or whether the reasoning pro¬ cesses which have been employed to prove it (if the evident judgment be the result of reasoning) are valid. Moreover, no judgment is to be considered as self-evident unless it appears to be so not only at first, but also on reflection afterwa^s. General, or abstract, necessary truths. Three orders of funda¬ mental certainty. I 2 inches long are of equal length, because each is a yard long.” Truths about any objects different in number— for example, about groups of marbles ; as that five marbles and five marbles make ten marbles — may be abstracted or enlartred first into the arithmetical, and afterwards into the algebraical “ abstract ” truths— five added to five make ten, or 5^^ + = loa. Just so the above two judgments about the two eyes and two sticks may be easily enlarged respec¬ tively into the “abstract” propositions: Nothing can, at the same time, both “ be and not be,” and “ things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other.” These two general propositions will, on reflection, be seen, like the particular judgments from which they have been abstracted, to be certain without proof ; they may, therefore, be said to be necessarily true or “necessary truths.” Reflection will also show that we can have no certainty about any¬ thing if those abstract judgments are not absolutely certain. They are therefore truths which are necessary for our intellectual activity. r- But we have already seen that absolute certainty does exist, and that, as a fact, we may validly argue in its defence. At the root, then, of all certainty, there must lie perceptions of three orders of truths all supremely certain and self- evident, namely, (i) perceptions of a greater or less number of general truths ; (2) perceptions of particular facts ; and (3) perceptions of the force of some arguments. If we had no certain knowledge of self-evident general truths, advance \ in knowledge would be absolutely impossible, and we could not argue ; for if anything could be and not be at the same time, then something proved might at the same time be un¬ proven. If we had no certain knowledge of any fact — as, for example, that we have some feeling or belief — all our demonstrations would, as it were, remain suspended in the air and have nothing to do with reality ; and if there were no reality, there could be no real truth, and therefore no certainty. Lastly, if the truth of some mode of reasoning was not clearly self-evident, we could never arrive at any conclusion, and all argument would be vain. But men of all schools of thought, who argue, show that they do not think all argument vain. The conclusion that any given EVIDENCE AND CERTAINTY. man will ultimately die if mortality is the sure lot of all men, is a judgment the certainty of which is seen on reflection as well as at first, and is admitted by the common consent of mankind. The most certain and indisputable judgments, then, are those which require no proof, but are self-evident. If any reader is still dissatisKeTTvith self-evidence as the one criterion of ultimate truths, let him ask himself what other is a better better criterion, or ground of belief, ulti mafe t7uths^ could possibly have.^ Any criterion provided as the test of an^SS^? ultimate judgment must either reside in the judgment itself, and so make it luminously self:£vI4.ent, or in some¬ thing external to it. Now, if some criterion external to it, indefinitely more perfect than anything we can think of, had been provided, we could only appreciate it through our perception of it and our judgment about it, and such judgment could not give us certainty unless it was self- evidently true. In this way, instead of being better off, we should but have self-evidence after all — and that once removed — as a criterion. It will be plain on reflection that nothing external — no common consent of mankind, com¬ mon sense, or testimony — could ever take the place of an ultimate criterion of knowledge, since some judgment of our own mind must always decide for us with respect to the existence and value of such criteria. The principle of evidence, then, is one which is really ultimate, and must be accepted under pain of complete intellectual paralysis. It is incapable of demonstration, since it depends on nothing else. It is constantly assumed unconsciously, and is acted on confidently by every one who reasons. We conform to it without thinking about it, but if we reflect on it we see three good reasons for assenting to it : — (i) The spon¬ taneous and natural tendency of all men constantly to conform to it ; (2) the destruction of all our knowledge and the impossibility of thinking logically at all, if we do not admit the legitimacy of the criterion ; and (3) the fact that, by admitting it, we gain a foundation for our know¬ ledge (which can thus become a mental cosmos instead of a chaos), and are enabled to progress in science. Our task, then, in the pursuit of truth itself should be, The task of H ON TRUTH. the inquirer first, to discover what p^encral principles, what particular ajter truth. ^ i ir • 11 ir facts, and what methods oi reasoning are clearly seli- evident, and therefore supremely true. When once these have been as far as possible ascertained, we may next proceed to elucidate by their help those truths, next in rank, which underlie all science, following this up with an examination of the teachings of science itself, in the supreme or highest sense of that word. Having accomplished that task, we shall have done all we can in the direct pursuit of truth, and may leave to the followers of each separate, subordinate science that indirect pursuit of it which con¬ sists in the investigation of the several orders of truths with which each separate science deals. All our knowledge must either be self-evident, or must be legitimately deduced from what is self-evident. In our pursuit of truth, our endeavour must be to proceed from the known to the unknown, not, of course, with the expectation of being able ever to know all things, but with a determination not to renounce beforehand the investigation of any problem which may seem to demand inquiry at our hands. ( 15 ) CHAPTER II. SELF-KNOWLEDGE. The primary fact of our own continuous existence is known to us with supreme certainty, though, like our feelings, not explicitly so without the aid of reflection. What we first and directly perceive is our own momentary activity, but this perception implicitly contains the knowledge of both our existence and our feelings, which respectively and equally need, for their explicit cognition, a reflex mental act. First fundamental fact, self-k7iowledge — This conimoiily supposed certaifi — Need of considermg arguments agamst its possibility — ■ What these meaii — So7ne truth i7i the77i — Also a false assu7/iptio7i a7id an error of fact — Mistake as to a7i i77ipli cation — Self-know¬ ledge like our k7iowledge of others — Pri77iary cognitions — An objectio7i — Met by a distmction— Explicit a7id i77iplicit knowledge — Feelmgs ca7i7iot be know7i without self-k7iowledge — Feelmgs 7iot know7i prior to self— A funda7ne7ital error a7id its co7tseque7tces. In the preceding chapter an endeavour has been made to bring home to the mind of the reader the truth that the supreme and ultimate criterion of the certainty of any proposition is its own luminous self-evidence. The first task of the inquirer after truth was also declared to be a search for the most certain general principles, facts, and methods of reasoning. The quest of truth, however, is the quest of what is eminently real ; and so, to ensure reality, we will begin, not with the consideration of any “ abstract principle,” but of a “ fact.” It is no unusual thing for a person to exclaim, with First/unda- reference to something about which he is sure, “ I am as ledge certain of it as I am of my own existence ; ” and the ON TRUTH. i6 exclamation is generally understood to denote a very high degree of certainty. The so often quoted Delphic precept, “ Know thyself,” has been explained in different senses by different writers ; but there is just one thing in which all This com- these writers agree, and that is that men can know them- ^oniysup- There are, of course, some unfortunate persons, in certain. ^ ^qss diseased or idiotic state of mind, who, from defect of memory or whatever cause, are unable to recognize / their own personal identity. But this book is addressed to / reasonable men of ordinary intelligence, and not to those / who are wholly or partially out of their minds ; and, indeed, I a plain man would very naturally consider any one to be I “ out of his mind ” who sincerely professed that he could not I know his own existence with entire certainty. It is, there- ■ fore, to be feared that some readers may be impatient at meeting with an argument directed to show that we have the fullest reason to be supremely certain of the fact of our own existence. They may at first very naturally feel dis¬ inclined to consider reasonings about a matter they have never themselves felt it possible to doubt, even if they have heard that other persons have been so “ absurd ” as to profess to doubt about it. “ To doubt one’s existence,” they will say, “ is even more absurd than to believe that Needof one’s Hmbs are made of glass!” And yet there are two arguments good roasons why no one who would earnestly inquire pSfiiiy. after truth, should refuse to consider carefully the argu¬ ments which follow. The first of these two reasons is that the question concerning the supreme certainty of the fact of our self-knowledge is of fundamental importance for the inquiry after truth. If that certainty cannot be established, then the inquiry after truth may, for reasons hereafter stated, be given up as one essentially insoluble. The second reason is the circumstance that very eminent, highly intellectual men have denied, and do deny, the supreme certainty of our self-knowledge. Now, it is not for a moment to be supposed that such men are insincere, or that they can adhere to a doctrine which does not con¬ tain some truth. tainty that one continuous, enduring being, or “ self,” goes ’ on existing during the succession of what we call its : different “ feelings.” It is fully admitted that we are con¬ scious of our various feelings as they successively arise, ' but we are said not to be conscious of any continuously ex- ^ isting being which remains essentially unchanged through- \ out the successive changes of its feelings. Such a being, ^ it is affirmed, we can never know apart from our various “ states of feeling ; ” and, as we can never even know it, we most certainly can never be “ supremely certain ” about its existence. Supreme certainty, they say, we may indeed have about our present feeling, whatever that may be, but about nothing else ; and they deny that we have, or can have, such certainty about our continuous, enduring “ self,” or “ ego,” as we have about our “ feelings,” or, as they are generally termed, our “ states of consciousness.” A little reflection will show that there is a certain truth in these statements, strange and startling as they may at first sight seem to be. Any one, even unaccustomed to such reflex mental acts,* may easily perceive that he can be absolutely certain about the existence of any feeling — such as, e.g.^ a feeling of a sweet taste, or of warmth, or of cold — while he is actually feeling it. A little further reflection will show him that the present existence of such a feeling, or “ state of consciousness,” is so certain that it is absolutely impos¬ sible for even any supernatural power, however exalted, to make him think that a feeling does not exist while he himself is actually feeling it. In maintaining, then, the absolute certainty of any * See above, p. 8. C i8 ON TRUTH, present “feeling” or “state of consciousness” actually present to the mind, the teaching here combated has right and reason on its side. It has also right and reason on its side when it goes on to affirm that we cannot know ourselves apart from our various states of feeling and apart from the different modifications we undergo. The reader will readily enough perceive that he is reading or has ceased to read, as the case may be, but he will never obtain a distinct perception of any essential “self” which is neither doing anything itself nor having anything done to it. In conceding so much it may appear that we have conceded all, but such is by no means the case ; for a little patience will enable us to disentangle, in the asser¬ tions criticised, one unwarranted assumption and one error of fact. The unwarranted assumption is, that we can know nothing with supreme certainty unless we know it by itself, and apart from any other entity with which it is intimately connected, either temporarily or permanently. The error of fact is, that we can be conscious of the feelings I we have, apart from any consciousness of the self which ^ has such feelings. As to the unwarranted presumption, it is so far from being a truth that we can only know a thing by itself, that the very contrary is the case. We can really know no thing by itself. No thing can be known by us except through our simultaneous knowledge of some other thing with which it stands in some relation or other. For example, nothing can be known as large except we know something smaller ; or as warm, or sweet, or dark, or rough, except in contrast with things relatively cold, not-sweet, light, or smooth. It would not, then, be by any means wonderful if we only knew ourselves as related with our simultaneously known feelings, or only knew our feelings as related with our simultaneously known selves. As to the error of fact, it is a truth (to the demonstration of which this chapter will be devoted) that what we have just repre¬ sented as being by no means wonderful, is certainly true. We have not, and cannot have, any more knowledge or perception of our feelings apart from our knowledge and perception of ourselves, than we can have knowledge or also a false assumption and an error^ of fact. SELF-KNO W LEDGE. 19 perception of ourselves apart from our knowledge or per¬ ception of our feelings. Indeed here, as in so many other instances, error exists ^^istake in the form of a mistaken negation, which has been \,oo piicatio7i. hastily supposed to be involved in a true affirmation. The true affirmation is, “ We may be supremely and absolutely certain of the existence of present feelmgs or states of con- sciousnessl' The mistaken negation, erroneously supposed to be involved in that affirmation is, “ We have no such certainty of the existence of an enduring — i.e. stibstantial — self, or ego, as we have of those ^states of consciousness' which we assume that ^ self ' to experience." Another and complementary truth, then, which the eminent men before referred to have, we believe, overlooked, is the equal cer¬ tainty which exists between our knowledge (i) of our¬ selves, and (2) of our feelings, and the impossibility of our knowing either of these, apart and alone. The erroneous nature of the negation just stated may, we venture to think, be demonstrated as follows : It is quite true — as has been above admitted — that we never do know our own substantial being in its very essence simply, alone and unmodified. From this truth, however, it is not to be inferred (as the men here combated do infer) that we cannot know our substantial, essential being — our enduring “self” — with absolute and supreme certainty. • \ It is not indeed in the least degree wonderful that we never know our own “self” in an entirely unmodified con¬ dition because, during our whole lives, it never has been, is, or will be, in such a condition. We never know it except in some “state,” but then it never exists or has existed except in some state. In this respect our know- Seif- ledge of ourselves is like our knowledge of anybody and like our everybody else. Many readers may have seen, and some of others. 