{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_50141/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_50141","id":"gutenberg_50141","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50141","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Philosophy","Philosophy, Modern"],"text":"PHILOSOPHICAL STUDIES\n\nBy\n\nG. E. MOORE, Litt.D.\n\n_Hon. LL.D. (St. Andrews), F.B.A._\n\n_Lecturer in Moral Science in the University of Cambridge\nAuthor of \"Principia Ethica\"_\n\nLONDON\n\nROUTLEDGE & KEGAN PAUL LTD\n\nBROADWAY HOUSE: 68-74 CARTER LANE, E.C.4\n\n1922\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n     I.   THE REFUTATION OF IDEALISM\n     II.  THE NATURE AND REALITY OF OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION\n    III.  WILLIAM JAMES' \"PRAGMATISM\"\n     IV.  HUME'S PHILOSOPHY\n      V.  THE STATUS OF SENSE-DATA\n     VI.  THE CONCEPTION  OF REALITY\n    VII.  SOME JUDGMENTS OF PERCEPTION\n   VIII.  THE CONCEPTION OF INTRINSIC VALUE\n     IX.  EXTERNAL AND INTERNAL RELATIONS\n      X.  THE NATURE OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY\n\n\n_Those of the papers in this volume, which have been previously\npublished, originally appeared as follows_:--\n\nI. \"The Refutation of Idealism\" in _Mind,_ N.S. Vol. xii, 1903.\n\nII. \"The Nature and Reality of Objects of Perception\" in _Proceedings\nof the Aristotelian Society,_ 1905-6.\n\nIII. \"Professor James' 'Pragmatism'\" in _Proceedings of the\nAristotelian Society,_ 1907-8.\n\nIV. \"Hume's Philosophy\" in _The New Quarterly,_ November, 1909.\n\nV. \"The Status of Sense-Data\" in _Proceedings of the Aristotelian\nSociety,_ 1913-14.\n\nVI. \"The Conception of Reality\" in _Proceedings of the Aristotelian\nSociety,_ 1917-18.\n\nVII. \"Some Judgments of Perception\" in _Proceedings of the Aristotelian\nSociety,_ 1918-19.\n\nIX. \"External and Internal Relations\" in _Proceedings of the\nAristotelian Society,_ 1919-20.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nAll the papers contained in this volume, except the two ethical ones\n(VIII and X), have been previously published; and of those which have\nbeen previously published all, except that on \"External and Internal\nRelations\" (IX), are here re-printed without change. They were written\nat various dates between 1903 and 1921, and all are here printed in the\norder in which they were written, except that VIII on \"The Conception\nof Intrinsic Value,\" which was written earlier than VI and VII, has\nbeen moved out of its proper place in order to bring it nearer to IX\nand X, to both of which it is closely related in subject.\n\nAll, except IV and X, were primarily intended for an audience\nfamiliar with the writings of philosophers; but I hope that they may\nnevertheless prove intelligible even to those who have read little or\nno philosophy, since I make little use of technical terms, and, where I\nhave done so, have done my best to explain in ordinary language exactly\nwhat I mean by them. The tone of X is somewhat different from that\nof the rest, because it was written as a lecture for the _Leicester\nPhilosophical Society_, with regard to which I was informed that I must\nnot assume any previous acquaintance with philosophy in most of the\naudience. It accordingly bears marks throughout of the kind of audience\nfor which it was intended.\n\nAn attentive reader will easily discover that some of the views\nexpressed in some of the papers are inconsistent with views expressed\nin others. The fact is that some of the views expressed in some of the\nearlier ones are views with which I no longer agree; and I feel that\nsome apology is needed for nevertheless republishing them exactly as\nthey stood. In all cases, except one, my excuse is that the mistaken\nviews in question are so embedded in the form and substance of the\npapers in which they occur, that it would have been impossible to\ncorrect them without practically substituting new papers for the old\nones; and that, in spite of these mistakes, the old papers, as they\nstand, still seem to me, on the whole, to say things which are worth\nsaying in a form which, however defective it may be, I doubt my\nown ability to improve upon. The only case in which I doubt whether\nthis excuse applies is that of the first paper--\"The Refutation of\nIdealism.\" This paper now appears to me to be very confused, as well\nas to embody a good many down-right mistakes; so I am doubtful whether\nI ought to have included it. But in this case I have another excuse:\nnamely that it is a paper to which a good many allusions have been made\nby contemporary writers on philosophy; and I was told that, for some\nreaders at all events, it would be a convenience that it should be\nre-printed along with the rest, if only for the sake of reference.\n\nI said above that the only one of the previously published papers,\nin which changes have been made, is IX on \"External and Internal\nRelations.\" In this case the changes are not due to any change in my\nviews, but to the fact that, in that part of the paper in which symbols\nare used, I tried, when it was first published in the _Proceedings of\nthe Aristotelian Society,_ to use the symbols adopted by Whitehead and\nRussell in _Principia Mathematica,_ and used them also without giving\nan explanation of their meaning which would be sufficient for readers\nnot acquainted with that work. The symbols in question are symbols\nwhich it is difficult for printers to reproduce; and I have, therefore,\nthought it better, on this occasion, to use another set of symbols,\nwhich seem to me to be adequate for the limited purpose I had in view.\nI have tried to give an explanation of their meaning, which will\nenable anyone to understand them; and I have taken the opportunity of\nrewriting some of the parts of the paper in which they occur in a way\nwhich will, I hope, make some points clearer than they originally were.\n\nI have to thank the Committee of the Aristotelian Society for\npermission to reprint the large number of papers (viz., II, III, V,\nVI, VII and IX), which originally appeared in the _Proceedings_ of\nthat Society; and the Editor of the _New Quarterly_ for permission to\nreprint the article on Hume's Philosophy (IV), which appeared in that\nJournal in November, 1909.\n\nG. E. MOORE.\n\nCAMBRIDGE,\n\n_January_, 1922.\n\n\n\n\n\nPhilosophical Studies\n\n\n\n\nTHE REFUTATION OF IDEALISM\n\n\nModern Idealism, if it asserts any general conclusion about the\nuniverse at all, asserts that it is _spiritual._ There are two points\nabout this assertion to which I wish to call attention. These points\nare that, whatever be its exact meaning, it is certainly meant to\nassert (1) that the universe is very different indeed from what it\nseems, and (2) that it has quite a large number of properties which it\ndoes not seem to have. Chairs and tables and mountains _seem_ to be\nvery different from us; but, when the whole universe is declared to\nbe spiritual, it is certainly meant to assert that they are far more\nlike us than we think. The idealist means to assert that they are _in\nsome sense_ neither lifeless nor unconscious, as they certainly seem\nto be; and I do not think his language is so grossly deceptive, but\nthat we may assume him to believe that they really are very different\nindeed from what they seem. And secondly when he declares that they\nare _spiritual,_ he means to include in that term quite a large number\nof different properties. When the whole universe is declared to be\nspiritual, it is meant not only that it is in some sense _conscious,_\nbut that it has what we recognise in ourselves as the _higher_ forms of\nconsciousness. That it is intelligent; that it is purposeful; that it\nis not mechanical; all these different things are commonly asserted\nof it. In general, it may be said, this phrase 'reality is spiritual'\nexcites and expresses the belief that the _whole_ universe possesses\n_all the qualities_ the possession of which is held to make us so\nsuperior to things which seem to be inanimate: at least, if it does not\npossess exactly those which we possess, it possesses not one only, but\nseveral others, which, by the same ethical standard, would be judged\nequal to or better than our own. When we say it is _spiritual_ we mean\nto say that it has quite a number of excellent qualities, different\nfrom any which we commonly attribute either to stars or planets or to\ncups and saucers.\n\nNow why I mention these two points is that when engaged in the\nintricacies of philosophic discussion, we are apt to overlook the\nvastness of the difference between this idealistic view and the\nordinary view of the world, and to overlook the number of _different_\npropositions which the idealist must prove. It is, I think, owing to\nthe vastness of this difference and owing to the number of different\nexcellences which Idealists attribute to the universe, that it seems\nsuch an interesting and important question whether Idealism be true or\nnot. But, when we begin to argue about it, I think we are apt to forget\nwhat a vast number of arguments this interesting question must involve:\nwe are apt to assume, that if one or two points be made on either side,\nthe whole case is won. I say this lest it should be thought that any of\nthe arguments which will be advanced in this paper would be sufficient\nto disprove, or any refutation of them sufficient to prove, the truly\ninteresting and important proposition that reality is spiritual. For my\nown part I wish it to be clearly understood that I do not suppose that\nanything I shall say has the smallest tendency to prove that reality\nis not spiritual: I do not believe it possible to refute a single one\nof the many important propositions contained in the assertion that it\nis so. Reality may be spiritual, for all I know; and I devoutly hope\nit is. But I take 'Idealism' to be a wide term and to include not\nonly this interesting conclusion but a number of arguments which are\nsupposed to be, if not sufficient, at least _necessary,_ to prove it.\nIndeed I take it that modern Idealists are chiefly distinguished by\ncertain arguments which they have in common. That reality is spiritual\nhas, I believe, been the tenet of many theologians; and yet, for\nbelieving that alone, they should hardly be called Idealists. There\nare besides, I believe, many persons, not improperly called Idealists,\nwho hold certain characteristic propositions, without venturing to\nthink them quite sufficient to prove so grand a conclusion. It is,\ntherefore, only with Idealistic _arguments_ that I am concerned; and\nif any Idealist holds that _no_ argument is necessary to prove that\nreality is spiritual, I shall certainly not have refuted him. I shall,\nhowever, attack at least one argument, which, to the best of my belief,\nis considered necessary to their position by _all_ Idealists. And\nI wish to point out a certain advantage which this procedure gives\nme--an advantage which justifies the assertion that, if my arguments\nare sound, they will have refuted Idealism. If I can refute a single\nproposition which is a necessary and essential step in all Idealistic\narguments, then, no matter how good the rest of these arguments may be,\nI shall have proved that Idealists have _no reason whatever_ for their\nconclusion.\n\nSuppose we have a chain of argument which takes the form: Since A is\nB, and B is C, and C is D, it follows A is D. In such an argument,\nthough 'B is C' and 'C is D' may both be perfectly true, yet if 'A\nis B' be false, we have no more reason for asserting A is D than if\nall three were false. It does not, indeed, follow that A is D is\nfalse; nor does it follow that no other arguments would prove it to\nbe true. But it does follow that, so far as this argument goes, it is\nthe barest supposition, without the least bit of evidence. I propose\nto attack a proposition which seems to me to stand in this relation\nto the conclusion 'Reality is spiritual.' I do not propose to dispute\nthat 'Reality is spiritual;' I do not deny that there may be reasons\nfor thinking that it is: but I do propose to show that one reason upon\nwhich, to the best of my judgment, all other arguments ever used by\nIdealists depend is _false._ These other arguments may, for all I shall\nsay, be eminently ingenious and true; they are very many and various,\nand different Idealists use the most different arguments to prove the\nsame most important conclusions. Some of these _may_ be sufficient to\nprove that B is C and C is D; but if, as I shall try to show, their 'A\nis B' is false the conclusion A is D remains a pleasant supposition.\nI do not deny that to suggest pleasant and plausible suppositions may\nbe the proper function of philosophy: but I am assuming that the name\nIdealism can only be properly applied where there is a certain amount\nof argument, intended to be cogent.\n\nThe subject of this paper is, therefore, quite uninteresting. Even\nif I prove my point, I shall have proved nothing about the Universe\nin general. Upon the important question whether Reality is or is not\nspiritual my argument will not have the remotest bearing. I shall only\nattempt to arrive at the truth about a matter, which is in itself quite\ntrivial and insignificant, and from which, so far as I can see and\ncertainly so far as I shall say, no conclusions can be drawn about any\nof the subjects about which we most want to know. The only importance\nI can claim for the subject I shall investigate is that it seems to me\nto be a matter upon which not Idealists only, but all philosophers and\npsychologists also, have been in error, and from their erroneous view\nof which they have inferred (validly or invalidly) their most striking\nand interesting conclusions. And that it has even this importance I\ncannot hope to prove. If it has this importance, it will indeed follow\nthat all the most striking results of philosophy--Sensationalism.\nAgnosticism and Idealism alike--have, for all that has hitherto been\nurged in their favour, no more foundation than the supposition that\na chimera lives in the moon. It will follow that, unless new reasons\nnever urged hitherto can be found, all the most important philosophic\ndoctrines have as little claim to assent as the most superstitious\nbeliefs of the lowest savages. Upon the question what we have _reason_\nto believe in the most interesting matters, I do therefore think that\nmy results will have an important bearing; but I cannot too clearly\ninsist that upon the question whether these beliefs are true they will\nhave none whatever.\n\nThe trivial proposition which I propose to dispute is this: that _esse_\nis _percipi._ This is a very ambiguous proposition, but, in some sense\nor other, it has been very widely held. That it is, in some sense,\nessential to Idealism, I must for the present merely assume. What I\npropose to show is that, in all the senses ever given to it, it is\nfalse.\n\nBut, first of all, it may be useful to point out briefly in what\nrelation I conceive it to stand to Idealistic arguments. That wherever\nyou can truly predicate _esse_ you can truly predicate _percipi_, in\nsome sense or other, is, I take it, a necessary step In all arguments,\nproperly to be called Idealistic, and, what is more, in all arguments\nhitherto offered for the Idealistic conclusion. If _esse_ is\n_percipi,_ this is at once equivalent to saying that whatever is, is\nexperienced; and this, again, is equivalent, in a sense, to saying that\nwhatever is, is something mental. But this is not the sense in which\nthe Idealist _conclusion_ must maintain that Reality is _mental._ The\nIdealist _conclusion_ is that _esse_ is _percipere_; and hence, whether\n_esse_ be _percipi_ or not, a further and different discussion is\nneeded to show whether or not it is also _percipere._ And again, even\nif _esse_ be _percipere_, we need a vast quantity of further argument\nto show that what has _esse_ has also those higher mental qualities\nwhich are denoted by spiritual. This is why I said that the question\nI should discuss, namely, whether or not _esse is percipi_, must be\nutterly insufficient either to prove or to disprove that reality is\nspiritual. But, on the other hand, I believe that every argument ever\nused to show that reality is spiritual has inferred this (validly or\ninvalidly) from '_esse_ is _percipere'_ as one of its premisses; and\nthat this again has never been pretended to be proved except by use of\nthe premiss that _esse_ is _percipi._ The type of argument used for the\nlatter purpose is familiar enough. It is said that since whatever is,\nis experienced, and since some things are which are not experienced by\nthe individual, these must at least form part of some experience. Or\nagain that, since an object necessarily implies a subject, and since\nthe whole world must be an object, we must conceive it to belong to\nsome subject or subjects, in the same sense in which whatever is the\nobject of our experience belongs to us. Or again, that, since thought\nenters into the essence of all reality, we must conceive behind it, in\nit, or as its essence, a spirit akin to ours, who think: that 'spirit\ngreets spirit' in its object. Into the validity of these inferences\nI do not propose to enter: they obviously require a great deal of\ndiscussion. I only desire to point out that, however correct they may\nbe, yet if _esse_ is not _percipi,_ they leave us as far from a proof\nthat reality is spiritual, as if they were all false too.\n\nBut now: Is _esse percipi?_ There are three very ambiguous terms in\nthis proposition, and I must begin by distinguishing the different\nthings that may be meant by some of them.\n\nAnd first with regard to _percipi._ This term need not trouble us\nlong at present. It was, perhaps, originally used to mean 'sensation'\nonly; but I am not going to be so unfair to modern Idealists--the\nonly Idealists to whom the term should now be applied without\nqualification--as to hold that, if they say _esse_ is _percipi_, they\nmean by _percipi_ sensation only. On the contrary I quite agree with\nthem that, if _esse_ be _percipi_ at all, _percipi_ must be understood\nto include not sensation only, but that other type of mental fact,\nwhich is called 'thought '; and, whether _esse_ be _percipi_ or not, I\nconsider it to be the main service of the philosophic school, to which\nmodern Idealists belong, that they have insisted on distinguishing\n'sensation' and 'thought' and on emphasising the importance of the\nlatter. Against Sensationalism and Empiricism they have maintained the\ntrue view. But the distinction between sensation and thought need not\ndetain us here. For, in whatever respects they differ, they have at\nleast this in common, that they are both forms of consciousness or, to\nuse a term that seems to be more in fashion just now, they are both\nways of experiencing. Accordingly, whatever _esse_ is _percipi_ may\nmean, it does _at least_ assert that whatever is, is _experienced._\nAnd since what I wish to maintain is, that even this is untrue, the\nquestion whether it be experienced by way of sensation or thought or\nboth is for my purpose quite irrelevant. If it be not experienced at\nall, it cannot be either an object of thought or an object of sense.\nIt is only if being involves 'experience' that the question, whether\nit involves sensation or thought or both, becomes important. I beg,\ntherefore, that _percipi_ may be understood, in what follows, to refer\nmerely to what is _common_ to sensation and thought. A very recent\narticle states the meaning of _esse_ is _percipi_ with all desirable\nclearness in so far as _percipi_ is concerned.\n\n'I will undertake to show,' says Mr. Taylor,[1] 'that what makes [any\npiece of fact] real can be nothing but its presence as an inseparable\naspect of _a sentient experience_.' I am glad to think that Mr. Taylor\nhas been in time to supply me with so definite a statement that this\nis the ultimate premiss of Idealism. My paper will at least refute\nMr. Taylor's Idealism, if it refutes anything at all: for I _shall_\nundertake to show that what makes a thing real cannot possibly be its\npresence as an inseparable aspect of a senient experience.\n\nBut Mr. Taylor's statement though clear, I think, with regard to\nthe meaning of _percipi_ is highly ambiguous in other respects. I\nwill leave it for the present to consider the next ambiguity in the\nstatement: _Esse_ is _percipi._ What does the copula mean? What can be\nmeant by saying that Esse _is_ percipi? There are just three meanings,\none or other of which such a statement _must_ have, if it is to be\ntrue; and of these there is only one which it can have, if it is to\nbe important. (1) The statement may be meant to assert that the word\n'esse' is used to signify nothing either more or less than the word\n'percipi': that the two words are precise synonyms: that they are\nmerely different names for one and the same thing: that what is meant\nby _esse_ is absolutely identical with what is meant by _percipi._\nI think I need not prove that the principle _esse_ is _percipi_ is\n_not_ thus intended merely to define a word; nor yet that, if it were,\nit would be an extremely bad definition. But if it does _not_ mean\nthis, only two alternatives remain. The second is (2) that what is\nmeant by _esse,_ though not absolutely identical with what is meant by\n_percipi_, yet _includes_ the latter as a _part_ of its meaning. If\nthis were the meaning of 'esse is percipi,' then to say that a thing\nwas real would not be the same thing as to say that it was experienced.\nThat it was _real_ would mean that it was experienced and _something\nelse besides_: 'being experienced' would be _analytically essential_\nto reality, but would not be the whole meaning of the term. From the\nfact that a thing was real we should be able to infer, by the law of\ncontradiction, that it was experienced; since the latter would be\n_part_ of what is meant by the former. But, on the other hand, from the\nfact a thing was experienced we should _not_ be able to infer that it\nwas real; since it would not follow from the fact that it had one of\nthe attributes essential to reality, that it _also_ had the other or\nothers. Now, if we understand _esse_ is _percipi_ in this second sense,\nwe must distinguish _three_ different things which it asserts. First of\nall, it gives a definition of the word 'reality,' asserting that word\nstands for a complex whole, of which what is meant by 'percipi' forms\na part. And secondly it asserts that 'being experienced' forms a part\nof a certain whole. Both these propositions may be true, and at all\nevents I do not wish to dispute them. I do not, indeed, think that the\nword 'reality' is commonly used to include 'percipi': but I do not wish\nto argue about the meaning of words. And that many things which are\nexperienced are also something else--that to be experienced forms part\nof certain wholes, is, of course, indisputable. But what I wish to\npoint out is, that neither of these propositions is of any importance,\nunless we add to them a _third._ That 'real' is a convenient name for a\nunion of attributes which _sometimes_ occurs, it could not be worth any\none's while to assert: no inferences of any importance could be drawn\nfrom such an assertion. Our principle could only mean that when a thing\nhappens to have _percipi_ as well as the other qualities included under\n_esse,_ it has _percipi_: and we should never be able to _infer_ that\nit was experienced, except from a proposition which already asserted\nthat it was both experienced and something else. Accordingly, if the\nassertion that _percipi_ forms part of the whole meant by reality is\nto have any importance, it must mean that the whole is organic, at\nleast in this sense, that the other constituent or constituents of it\n_cannot_ occur without percipi, even if percipi can occur without them.\nLet us call these other constituents _x._ The proposition that _esse_\nincludes _percipi,_ and that therefore from _esse percipi_ can be\ninferred, can only be important if it is meant to assert that _percipi_\ncan be inferred from _x._ The only importance of the question whether\nthe whole _esse_ includes the part _percipi_ rests therefore on the\nquestion whether the part _x_ is necessarily connected with the part\n_percipi._ And this is (3) the third possible meaning of the assertion\n_esse is percipi:_ and, as we now see, the only important one. _Esse_\nis _percipi_ asserts that wherever you have _x_ you also have _percipi_\nthat whatever has the property _x_ also has the property that it is\n_experienced._ And this being so, it will be convenient if, for the\nfuture, I may be allowed to use the term '_esse_' to denote _x alone._\nI do not wish thereby to beg the question whether what we commonly mean\nby the word 'real' does or does not include _percipi_ as well as _x._ I\nam quite content that my definition of 'esse' to denote _x_, should be\nregarded merely as an arbitrary verbal definition. Whether it is so or\nnot, the only question of interest is whether from _x percipi_ can be\ninferred, and I should prefer to be able to express this in the form:\ncan _percipi_ be inferred from _esse?_ Only let it be understood that\nwhen I say _esse,_ that term will not for the future _include percipi_:\nit denotes only that _x,_ which Idealists, perhaps rightly, include\n_along with percipi_ under _their_ term _esse._ That there is such an\n_x_ they must admit on pain of making the proposition an _absolute_\ntautology; and that from this _x percipi_ can be inferred they must\nadmit, on pain of making it a perfectly barren analytic proposition.\nWhether _x_ done should or should not be called _esse_ is not worth\na dispute: what is worth dispute is whether _percipi_ is necessarily\nconnected with _x._\n\nWe have therefore discovered the ambiguity of the copula in _esse_ is\n_percipi,_ so far as to see that this principle asserts two distinct\nterms to be so related, that whatever has the _one,_ which I call\n_esse,_ has _also_ the property that it is experienced. It asserts a\nnecessary connexion between _esse_ on the one hand and _percipi_ on\nthe other; these two words denoting each a distinct term, and _esse_\ndenoting a term in which that denoted by _percipi_ is not included. We\nhave, then in _esse_ is _percipi,_ a _necessary synthetic_ proposition\nwhich I have undertaken to refute. And I may say at once that,\nunderstood as such, it cannot be refuted. If the Idealist chooses to\nassert that it is merely a self-evident truth, I have only to say that\nit does not appear to me to be so. But I believe that no Idealist ever\nhas maintained it to be so. Although this--that two distinct terms are\nnecessarily related--is the only sense which 'esse is percipi' can have\nif it is to be true and important, it _can_ have another sense, if it\nis to be an important falsehood. I believe that Idealists all hold this\nimportant falsehood. They do not perceive that _Esse_ is _percipi_\nmust, if true, be _merely_ a self-evident synthetic truth: they either\nidentify with it or give as a reason for it another proposition which\nmust be false because it is self-contradictory. Unless they did so,\nthey would have to admit that it was a perfectly unfounded assumption;\nand if they recognised that it was _unfounded,_ I do not think they\nwould maintain its truth to be evident. _Esse_ is _percipi,_ in the\nsense I have found for it, _may_ indeed be true; I cannot, refute it:\nbut if this sense were clearly apprehended, no one, I think, would\n_believe_ that it was true.\n\nIdealists, we have seen, must assert that whatever is experienced,\nis _necessarily_ so. And this doctrine they commonly express by\nsaying that 'the object of experience is inconceivable apart from the\nsubject.' I have hitherto been concerned with pointing out what meaning\nthis assertion must have, if it is to be an important truth. I now\npropose to show that it may have an important meaning, which must be\nfalse, because it is self-contradictory.\n\nIt is a well-known fact in the history of philosophy that _necessary_\ntruths in general, but especially those of which it is said that\nthe opposite is inconceivable, have been commonly supposed to be\n_analytic,_ in the sense that the proposition denying them was\nself-contradictory. It was in this way, commonly supposed, before Kant,\nthat many truths could be proved by the law of contradiction alone.\nThis is, therefore, a mistake which it is plainly easy for the best\nphilosophers to make. Even since Kant many have continued to assert\nit; but I am aware that among those Idealists, who most properly\ndeserve the name, it has become more fashionable to assert that truths\nare _both_ analytic and synthetic. Now with many of their reasons\nfor asserting this I am not concerned: it is possible that in some\nconnexions the assertion may bear a useful and true sense. But if we\nunderstand 'analytic' in the sense just defined, namely, what is proved\nby the law of contradiction _alone_, it is plain that, if 'synthetic'\nmeans what is _not_ proved by this alone, no truth can be both analytic\nand synthetic. Now it seems to me that those who do maintain truths to\nbe both, do nevertheless maintain that they are so in this as well as\nin other senses. It is, indeed, extremely unlikely that so essential\na part of the historical meaning of 'analytic' and 'synthetic' should\nhave been entirely discarded, especially since we find no express\nrecognition that it is discarded. In that case it is fair to suppose\nthat modern Idealists have been influenced by the view that certain\ntruths can be proved by the law of contradiction alone. I admit they\nalso expressly declare that they can _not:_ but this is by no means\nsufficient to prove that they do not also think they are; since it is\nvery easy to hold two mutually contradictory opinions. What I suggest\nthen is that Idealists hold the particular doctrine in question,\nconcerning the relation of subject and object in experience, because\nthey think it is an analytic truth in this restricted sense that it is\nproved by the law of contradiction alone.\n\nI am suggesting that the Idealist maintains that object and subject are\nnecessarily connected, mainly because he fails to see that they are\n_distinct_, that they are _two,_ at all. When he thinks of 'yellow'\nand when he thinks of the 'sensation of yellow,' he fails to see that\nthere is anything whatever in the latter which is not in the former.\nThis being so, to deny that yellow can ever _be_ apart from the\nsensation of yellow is merely to deny that yellow can ever be other\nthan it is; since yellow and the sensation of yellow are absolutely\nidentical. To assert that yellow is necessarily an object of experience\nis to assert that yellow is necessarily yellow--a purely identical\nproposition, and therefore proved by the law of contradiction alone.\nOf course, the proposition also implies that experience is, after all,\nsomething distinct from yellow--else there would be no reason for\ninsisting that yellow is a sensation: and that the argument thus both\naffirms and denies that yellow and sensation of yellow are distinct,\nis what sufficiently refutes it. But this contradiction can easily\nbe overlooked, because though we are convinced, in other connexions,\nthat 'experience' does mean something and something most important,\nyet we are never distinctly aware _what_ it means, and thus in every\nparticular case we do not notice its presence. The facts present\nthemselves as a kind of antinomy:\n\n(1) Experience _is_ something unique and different from anything else;\n(2) Experience of green is entirely indistinguishable from green; two\npropositions which cannot both be true. Idealists, holding both, can\nonly take refuge in arguing from the one in some connexions and from\nthe other in others.\n\nBut I am well aware that there are many Idealists who would repel it\nas an utterly unfounded charge that they fail to distinguish between\na sensation or idea and what I will call its object. And there are, I\nadmit, many who not only imply, as we all do, that green is distinct\nfrom the sensation of green, but expressly insist upon the distinction\nas an important part of their system. They would perhaps only assert\nthat the two form an inseparable unity. But I wish to point out that\nmany, who use this phrase, and who do admit the distinction, are not\nthereby absolved from the charge that they deny it. For there is a\ncertain doctrine, very prevalent among philosophers nowadays, which by\na very simple reduction may be seen to assert that two distinct things\nboth are and are not distinct. A distinction is asserted; but it is\n_also_ asserted that the things distinguished form an 'organic unity,'\nBut, forming such a unity, it is held, each would not be what it is\n_apart from its relation to the other._ Hence to consider either by\nitself is to make an _illegitimate abstraction._ The recognition that\nthere are 'organic unities' and 'illegitimate abstractions' in this\nsense is regarded as one of the chief conquests of modern philosophy.\nBut what is the sense attached to these terms? An abstraction is\nillegitimate, when and only when we attempt to assert of _a part_--of\nsomething abstracted--that which is true only of the _whole_ to which\nit belongs: and it may perhaps be useful to point out that this should\nnot be done. But the application actually made of this principle,\nand what perhaps would be expressly acknowledged as its meaning, is\nsomething much the reverse of useful. The principle is used to assert\nthat certain abstractions are _in all cases_ illegitimate; that\nwhenever you try to assert _anything whatever_ of that which is _part_\nof an organic whole, what you assert can only be true of the whole.\nAnd this principle, so far from being a useful truth, is necessarily\nfalse. For if the whole can, nay _must,_ be substituted for the part\nin all propositions and for all purposes, this can only be because the\nwhole is absolutely identical with the part. When, therefore, we are\ntold that green and the sensation of green are certainly distinct but\nyet are not separable, or that it is an illegitimate abstraction to\nconsider the one apart from the other, what these provisos are used\nto assert is, that though the two things are distinct yet you not\nonly can but must treat them as if they were not. Many philosophers,\ntherefore, when they admit a distinction, yet (following the lead\nof Hegel) boldly assert their right, in a slightly more obscure form\nof words, _also_ to deny it. The principle of organic unities, like\nthat of combined analysis and synthesis, is mainly used to defend the\npractice of holding _both_ of two contradictory propositions, wherever\nthis may seem convenient. In this, as in other matters, Hegel's main\nservice to philosophy has consisted in giving a name to and erecting\ninto a principle, a type of fallacy to which experience had shown\nphilosophers, along with the rest of mankind, to be addicted. No wonder\nthat he has followers and admirers.\n\nI have shown then, so far, that when the Idealist asserts the important\nprinciple 'Esse is _percipi'_ he must, if it is to be true, mean by\nthis that: Whatever is experienced also _must_ be experienced. And\nI have also shown that he _may_ identify with, or give as a reason\nfor, this proposition, one which must be false, because it is self\ncontradictory. But at this point I propose to make a complete break\nin my argument. '_Esse_ is _percipi_,' we have seen, asserts of two\nterms, as distinct from one another as 'green' and 'sweet,' that\nwhatever has the one has also the other: it asserts that 'being' and\n'being experienced' are necessarily connected: that whatever _is_ is\n_also_ experienced. And this, I admit, cannot be directly refuted.\nBut I believe it to be false; and I have asserted that anybody who\nsaw that '_esse_ and _percipi_' _were_ as distinct as 'green' and\n'sweet' would be no more ready to believe that whatever _is_ is _also_\nexperienced, than to believe that whatever is green is also sweet. I\nhave asserted that no one would believe that '_esse_ is _percipi_'\nif they saw how different _esse_ is from _percipi:_ but _this_ I\nshall not try to prove. I have asserted that all who do believe that\n'_esse_ is _percipi_' identify with it or take as a reason for it a\nself-contradictory proposition: but this I shall not try to prove. I\nshall only try to show that certain propositions which I assert to be\nbelieved, are false. That they are believed, and that without this\nbelief '_esse_ is _percipi'_ would not be believed either, I must leave\nwithout a proof.\n\nI pass, then, from the uninteresting question 'Is _'esse percipi?'_ to\nthe still more uninteresting and apparently irrelevant question 'What\nis a sensation or idea?'\n\nWe all know that the sensation of blue differs from that of green. But\nit is plain that if both are _sensations_ they also have some point in\ncommon. What is it that they have in common? And how is this common\nelement related to the points in which they differ?\n\nI will call the common element 'consciousness' without yet attempting\nto say what the thing I so call _is._ We have then in every sensation\ntwo distinct terms, (1) 'consciousness,' in respect of which all\nsensations are alike; and (2) something else, in respect of which one\nsensation differs from another. It will be convenient if I may be\nallowed to call this second term the 'object' of a sensation: this also\nwithout yet attempting to say what I mean by the word.\n\nWe have then in every sensation two distinct elements, one which I call\nconsciousness, and another which I call the object of consciousness.\nThis must be so if the sensation of blue and the sensation of green,\nthough different in one respect, are alike in another: blue is one\nobject of sensation and green is another, and consciousness, which both\nsensations have in common, is different from either.\n\nBut, further, sometimes the sensation of blue exists in my mind and\nsometimes it does not; and knowing, as we now do, that the sensation of\nblue includes two different elements, namely consciousness and blue,\nthe question arises whether, when the sensation of blue exists, it is\nthe consciousness which exists, or the blue which exists, or both.\nAnd one point at least is plain: namely that these three alternatives\nare all different from one another. So that, if any one tells us that\nto say 'Blue exists' is the _same_ thing as to say that 'Both blue\nand consciousness exist,' he makes a mistake and a self-contradictory\nmistake.\n\nBut another point is also plain, namely, that when the sensation\nexists, the consciousness, at least, certainly does exist; for when I\nsay that the sensations of blue and of green both exist, I certainly\nmean that what is common to both and in virtue of which both are\ncalled sensations, exists in each case. The only alternative left,\nthen, is that _either_ both exist or the consciousness exists alone.\nIf, therefore, any one tells us that the existence of blue is the same\nthing as the existence of the sensation of blue he makes a mistake and\na self-contradictory mistake, for he asserts _either_ that blue is the\nsame thing as blue together with consciousness, _or_ that it is the\nsame thing as consciousness alone.\n\nAccordingly to identify either \"blue\" or any other of what I have\ncalled \"_objects_\" of sensation, with the corresponding sensation is\nin every case, a self-contradictory error. It is to identify a part\neither with the whole of which it is a part or else with the other part\nof the same whole. If we are told that the assertion \"Blue exists\" is\n_meaningless_ unless we mean by it that \"The sensation of blue exists,\"\nwe are told what is certainly false and self-contradictory. If we\nare told that the existence of blue is inconceivable apart from the\nexistence of the sensation, the speaker _probably_ means to convey to\nus, by this ambiguous expression, what is a self-contradictory error.\nFor we can and must conceive the existence of blue as something quite\ndistinct from the existence of the sensation. We can and must conceive\nthat blue might exist and yet the sensation of blue not exist. For my\nown part I not only conceive this, but conceive it to be true. Either\ntherefore this terrific assertion of inconceivability means what is\nfalse and self-contradictory or else it means only that _as a matter of\nfact_ blue never can exist unless the sensation of it exists also.\n\nAnd at this point I need not conceal my opinion that no philosopher\nhas ever yet succeeded in avoiding this self-contradictory error: that\nthe most striking results both of Idealism and of Agnosticism are only\nobtained by identifying blue with the sensation of blue: that _esse_\nis held to be _percipi,_ solely because _what is experienced_ is held\nto be identical with _the experience of it._ That Berkeley and Mill\ncommitted this error will, perhaps, be granted: that modern Idealists\nmake it will, I hope, appear more probable later. But that my opinion\nis plausible, I will now offer two pieces of evidence. The first is\nthat language offers us no means of referring to such objects as \"blue\"\nand \"green\" and \"sweet,\" except by calling them sensations: it is an\nobvious violation of language to call them \"things\" or \"objects\" or\n\"terms.\" And similarly we have no natural means of referring to such\nobjects as \"causality\" or \"likeness\" or \"identity,\" except by calling\nthem \"ideas\" or \"notions\" or \"conceptions.\" But it is hardly likely\nthat if philosophers had clearly distinguished in the past between a\nsensation or idea and what I have called its object, there should have\nbeen no separate name for the latter. They have always used the same\nname for these two different \"things\" (if I may call them so): and\nhence there is some probability that they have supposed these \"things\"\n_not_ to be two and different, but one and the same. And, secondly,\nthere is a very good reason why they should have supposed so, in the\nfact that when we refer to introspection and try to discover what the\nsensation of blue is, it is very easy to suppose that we have before\nus only a single term. The term \"blue\" is easy enough to distinguish,\nbut the other element which I have called \"consciousness\"--that which\nsensation of blue has in common with sensation of green--is extremely\ndifficult to fix. That many people fail to distinguish it at all is\nsufficiently shown by the fact that there are materialists. And, in\ngeneral, that which makes the sensation of blue a mental fact seems to\nescape us: it seems, if I may use a metaphor, to be transparent--we\nlook through it and see nothing but the blue; we may be convinced that\nthere _is something_ but _what_ it is no philosopher, I think, has yet\nclearly recognised.\n\nBut this was a digression. The point I had established so far was\nthat in every sensation or idea we must distinguish two elements,\n(1) the \"object,\" or that in which one differs from another; and (2)\n\"consciousness,\" or that which all have in common--that which makes\nthem sensations or mental facts. This being so, it followed that when\na sensation or idea exists, we have to choose between the alternatives\nthat either object alone, or consciousness alone, or both, exist;\nand I showed that of these alternatives one, namely that the object\nonly exists, is excluded by the fact that what we mean to assert is\ncertainly the existence of a mental fact. There remains the question:\nDo both exist? Or does the consciousness alone? And to this question\none answer has hitherto been given universally: That both exist.\n\nThis answer follows from the analysis hitherto accepted of the relation\nof what I have called \"object\" to \"consciousness\" in any sensation or\nidea. It is held that what I call the object is merely the \"content\" of\na sensation or idea. It is held that in each case we can distinguish\ntwo elements and two only, (1) the fact that there is feeling or\nexperience, and (2) _what_ is felt or experienced; the sensation or\nidea, it is said, forms a whole, in which we must distinguish two\n\"inseparable aspects,\" \"content\" and \"existence.\" I shall try to show\nthat this analysis is false; and for that purpose I must ask what may\nseem an extraordinary question: namely what is meant by saying that one\nthing is \"content\" of another? It is not usual to ask this question;\nthe term is used as if everybody must understand it. But since I am\ngoing to maintain that \"blue\" is _not_ the content of the sensation of\nblue, and what is more important, that, even if it were this analysis\nwould leave out the most important element in the sensation of blue, it\nis necessary that I should try to explain precisely what it is that I\nshall deny.\n\nWhat then is meant by saying that one thing is the \"content\" of\nanother? First of all I wish to point out that \"blue\" is rightly\nand properly said to be part of the content of a blue flower. If,\ntherefore, we also assert that it is part of the content of the\nsensation of blue, we assert that it has to the other parts (if any)\nof this whole the same relation which it has to the other parts of\na blue flower--and we assert only this: we cannot mean to assert\nthat it has to the sensation of blue any relation which it does not\nhave to the blue flower. And we have seen that the sensation of blue\ncontains at least one other element beside blue--namely, what I call\n\"consciousness,\" which makes it a sensation. So far then as we assert\nthat blue is the content of the sensation, we assert that it has to\nthis \"consciousness\" the same relation which it has to the other parts\nof a blue flower: we do assert this, and we assert no more than this.\nInto the question what exactly the relation is between blue and a blue\nflower in virtue of which we call the former part of its \"content\" I\ndo not propose to enter. It is sufficient for my purpose to point out\nthat it is the general relation most commonly meant when we talk of a\nthing and its qualities; and that this relation is such that to say the\nthing exists implies that the qualities also exist. The _content_ of\nthe thing is _what_ we assert to exist, when we assert _that_ the thing\nexists.\n\nWhen, therefore, blue is said to be part of the content of the\n\"sensation of blue,\" the latter is treated as if it were a whole\nconstituted in exactly the same way as any other \"thing.\" The\n\"sensation of blue,\" on this view, differs from a blue bead or a blue\nbeard, in exactly the same way in which the two latter differ from one\nanother: the blue bead differs from the blue beard, in that while the\nformer contains glass, the latter contains hair; and the \"sensation\nof blue\" differs from both in that, instead of glass or hair, it\ncontains consciousness. The relation of the blue to the consciousness\nis conceived to be exactly the same as that of the blue to the glass or\nhair: it is in all three cases the _quality_ of a _thing._\n\nBut I said just now that the sensation of blue was analysed into\n\"content\" and \"existence,\" and that blue was said to be _the_ content\nof the idea of blue. There is an ambiguity in this and a possible\nerror, which I must note in passing. The term \"content\" may be used\nin two senses. If we use \"content\" as equivalent to what Mr. Bradley\ncalls the \"_what_\"--if we mean by it the _whole_ of what is said to\nexist, when the thing is said to exist, then blue is certainly not\n_the_ content of the sensation of blue: part of the _content_ of the\nsensation is, in this sense of the term, that other element which I\nhave called consciousness. The analysis of this sensation into the\n\"content\" \"blue,\" on the one hand, and mere existence on the other, is\ntherefore certainly false; in it we have again the self-contradictory\nidentification of \"Blue exists\" with \"The sensation of blue exists,\"\nBut there is another sense in which \"blue\" might properly be said to be\n_the_ content of the sensation--namely, the sense in which \"content,\"\nlike _\u03b5\u1f34\u03b4\u03bf\u03c2_ is opposed to \"substance\" or \"matter.\" For the element\n\"consciousness,\" being common to all sensations, may be and certainly\nis regarded as in some sense their \"substance,\" and by the \"content\"\nof each is only meant that in respect of which one differs from\nanother. In this sense then \"blue\" might be said to be _the_ content\nof the sensation; but, in that case, the analysis into \"content\" and\n\"existence\" is, at least, misleading, since under \"existence\" must be\nincluded \"_what_ exists\" in the sensation other than blue.\n\nWe have it, then, as a universally received opinion that blue is\nrelated to the sensation or idea of blue, as its _content_, and\nthat this view, if it is to be true, must mean that blue is part of\n_what_ is said to exist when we say that the sensation exists. To say\nthat the sensation exists is to say both that blue exists and that\n\"consciousness,\" whether we call it the substance of which blue is\n_the_ content or call it another part of the content, exists too. Any\nsensation or idea is a \"_thing,_\" and what I have called its object is\nthe quality of this thing. Such a \"thing\" is what we think of when we\nthink of a _mental image._ A mental image is conceived as if it were\nrelated to that of which it is the image (if there be any such thing)\nin exactly the same way as the image in a looking-glass is related to\nthat of which it is the reflection; in both cases there is identity\nof content, and the image in the looking-glass differs from that\nin the mind solely in respect of the fact that in the one case the\nother constituent of the image is \"glass\" and in the other case it is\nconsciousness. If the image is of blue, it is not conceived that this\n\"content\" has any relation to the consciousness but what it has to the\nglass: it Is conceived _merely_ to be its _content._ And owing to the\nfact that sensations and ideas are all considered to be _wholes_ of\nthis description--things in the mind--the question: What do we know?\nis considered to be identical with the question: What reason have we\nfor supposing that there are things outside the mind _corresponding_ to\nthese that are inside it?\n\nWhat I wish to point out is (1) that we have no reason for supposing\nthat there are such things as mental images at all--for supposing that\nblue _is_ part of the content of the sensation of blue, and (2) that\neven if there are mental images, no mental image and no sensation or\nidea is _merely_ a thing of this kind: that 'blue,' even if it is\npart of the content of the image or sensation or idea of blue, is\nalways _also_ related to it in quite another way, and that this other\nrelation, omitted in the traditional analysis, is the _only_ one which\nmakes the sensation of blue a mental fact at all.\n\nThe true analysis of a sensation or idea is as follows. The element\nthat is common to them all, and which I have called \"consciousness,\"\nreally _is_ consciousness. A sensation is, in reality, a case of\n'knowing' or 'being aware of' or 'experiencing' something. When we\nknow that the sensation of blue exists, the fact we know is that\nthere exists an awareness of blue. And this awareness is not merely,\nas we have hitherto seen it must be, itself something distinct and\nunique, utterly different from blue: it also has a perfectly distinct\nand unique relation to blue, a relation which is _not_ that of thing\nor substance to content, nor of one part of content to another part\nof content. This relation is just that which we mean in every case\nby 'knowing.' To have in your mind 'knowledge' of blue, is _not_ to\nhave in your mind a 'thing' or 'image' of which blue is the content.\nTo be aware of the sensation of blue is _not_ to be aware of a\nmental image--of a \"thing,\" of which 'blue' and some other element\nare constituent parts in the same sense in which blue and glass are\nconstituents of a blue bead. It is to be aware of an awareness of\nblue; awareness being used, in both cases, in exactly the same sense.\nThis element, we have seen, is certainly neglected by the 'content'\ntheory: that theory entirely fails to express the fact that there is,\nin the sensation of blue, this unique relation between blue and the\nother constituent. And what I contend is that this omission is _not_\nmere negligence of expression, but is due to the fact that though\nphilosophers have recognised that _something_ distinct is meant by\nconsciousness, they have never yet had a clear conception of _what_\nthat something is. They have not been able to hold _it_ and _blue_\nbefore their minds and to compare them, in the same way in which they\ncan compare _blue_ and _green._ And this for the reason I gave above:\nnamely that the moment we try to fix our attention upon consciousness\nand to see _what_, distinctly, it is, it seems to vanish: it seems as\nif we had before us a mere emptiness. When we try to introspect the\nsensation of blue, all we can see is the blue: the other element is\nas if it were diaphanous. Yet it _can_ be distinguished if we look\nattentively enough, and if we know that there is something to look for.\nMy main object in this paragraph has been to try to make the reader\n_see_ it; but I fear I shall have succeeded very ill.\n\nIt being the case, then, that the sensation of blue includes in its\nanalysis, beside blue, _both_ a unique element 'awareness' _and_ a\nunique relation of this element to blue, I can make plain what I meant\nby asserting, as two distinct propositions, (1) that blue is probably\nnot part of the content of the sensation at all, and (2) that, even it\nwere, the sensation would nevertheless not be the sensation _of_ blue,\nif blue had only this relation to it. The first hypothesis may now be\nexpressed by saying that, if it were true, then, when the sensation of\nblue exists, there exists a _blue awareness_: offence may be taken at\nthe expression, but yet it expresses just what should be and is meant\nby saying that blue is, in this case, a _content_ of consciousness\nor experience. Whether or not, when I have the sensation of blue, my\nconsciousness or awareness is thus blue, my introspection does not\nenable me to decide with certainty: I only see no reason for thinking\nthat it is. But whether it is or not, the point is unimportant, for\nintrospection _does_ enable me to decide that something else is also\ntrue: namely that I am aware _of_ blue, and by this I mean, that my\nawareness has to blue a quite different and distinct relation. It is\npossible, I admit, that my awareness is blue _as well_ as being _of_\nblue: but what I am quite sure of is that it is _of_ blue; that it has\nto blue the simple and unique relation the existence of which alone\njustifies us in distinguishing knowledge of a thing from the thing\nknown, indeed in distinguishing mind from matter. And this result I may\nexpress by saying that what is called the _content_ of a sensation is\nin very truth what I originally called it--the sensation's _object._\n\nBut, if all this be true, what follows?\n\nIdealists admit that some things really exist of which they are not\naware: there are some things, they hold, which are not inseparable\naspects of _their_ experience, even if they be inseparable aspects of\nsome experience. They further hold that some of the things of which\nthey are sometimes aware do really exist, even when they are not aware\nof them: they hold for instance that they are sometimes aware of other\nminds, which continue to exist even when they are not aware of them.\nThey are, therefore, sometimes aware of something which is _not_ an\ninseparable aspect of their own experience. They do _know some_ things\nwhich are _not_ a mere part or content of their experience. And what\nmy analysis of sensation has been designed to show is, that whenever\nI have a mere sensation or idea, the fact is that I am then aware of\nsomething which is equally and in the same sense _not_ an inseparable\naspect of my experience. The awareness which I have maintained to be\nincluded in sensation is the very same unique fact which constitutes\nevery kind of knowledge: \"blue\" is as much an object, and as little\na mere content, of my experience, when I experience it, as the most\nexalted and independent real thing of which I am ever aware. There is,\ntherefore, no question of how we are to \"get outside the circle of our\nown ideas and sensations.\" Merely to have a sensation is already to\n_be_ outside that circle. It is to know something which is as truly and\nreally _not_ a part of _my_ experience, as anything which I can ever\nknow.\n\nNow I think I am not mistaken in asserting that the reason why\nIdealists suppose that everything which _is_ must be an inseparable\naspect of some experience, is that they suppose some things, at least,\nto be inseparable aspects of _their_ experience. And there is certainly\nnothing which they are so firmly convinced to be an inseparable aspect\nof their experience as what they call the _content_ of their ideas and\nsensations. If, therefore, _this_ turns out in every case, whether it\nbe also the content or not, to be at least _not_ an inseparable aspect\nof the experience of it, it will be readily admitted that nothing else\nwhich _we_ experience ever is such an inseparable aspect. But if we\nnever experience anything but what is _not_ an inseparable aspect of\n_that_ experience, how can we infer that anything whatever, let alone\n_everything,_ is an inseparable aspect of _any_ experience? How utterly\nunfounded is the assumption that \"_esse_ is _percipi\"_ appears in the\nclearest light.\n\nBut further I think it may be seen that if the object of an Idealist's\nsensation were, as he supposes, _not_ the object but merely the content\nof that sensation, if, that is to say, it really were an inseparable\naspect of his experience, each Idealist could never be aware either of\nhimself or of any other real thing. For the relation of a sensation\nto its object is certainly the same as that of any other instance of\nexperience to its object; and this, I think, is generally admitted even\nby Idealists: they state as readily that _what_ is judged or thought or\nperceived is the _content_ of that judgment or thought or perception,\nas that blue Is the content of the sensation of blue. But, if so, then\nwhen any Idealist thinks he is _aware_ of himself or of any one else,\nthis cannot really be the case. The fact Is, on his own theory, that\nhimself and that other person are in reality mere _contents_ of an\nawareness, which is aware _of_ nothing whatever. All that can be said\nis that there is an awareness in him, _with_ a certain content: it can\nnever be true that there is in him a consciousness _of_ anything. And\nsimilarly he is never aware either of the fact that he exists or that\nreality is spiritual. The real fact, which he describes in those terms,\nis that his existence and the spirituality of reality are _contents_ of\nan awareness, which is aware of nothing--certainly not, then, of it own\ncontent.\n\nAnd further if everything, of which he thinks he is aware, is in\nreality merely a content of his own experience he has certainly no\n_reason_ for holding that anything does exist except himself: it will,\nof course, be possible that other persons do exist; solipsism will not\nbe necessarily true; but he cannot possibly infer from anything he\nholds that it is not true. That he himself exists will of course follow\nfrom his premiss that many things are contents of _his_ experience.\nBut since everything, of which he thinks himself aware, is in reality\nmerely an inseparable aspect of that awareness; this premiss allows no\ninference that any of these contents, far less any other consciousness,\nexists at all except as an inseparable aspect of his awareness, that\nis, as part of himself.\n\nSuch, and not those which he takes to follow from it, are the\nconsequences which _do_ follow from the Idealist's supposition that the\nobject of an experience is in reality merely a content or inseparable\naspect of that experience. If, on the other hand, we clearly recognise\nthe nature of that peculiar relation which I have called \"awareness of\nanything\"; if we see that _this_ is involved equally in the analysis\nof _every_ experience--from the merest sensation to the most developed\nperception or reflexion, and that _this_ is in fact the only essential\nelement in an experience--the only thing that is both common and\npeculiar to all experiences--the only thing which gives us reason to\ncall any fact mental; if, further, we recognise that this awareness is\nand must be in all cases of such a nature that its object, when we are\naware of it, is precisely what it would be, if we were not aware: then\nit becomes plain that the existence of a table in space is related to\nmy experience of _it_ in precisely the same way as the existence of\nmy own experience is related to my experience of _that._ Of both we\nare merely aware: if we are aware that the one exists, we are aware\nin precisely the same sense that the other exists; and if it is true\nthat my experience can exist, even when I do not happen to be aware of\nits existence, we have exactly the same reason for supposing that the\ntable can do so also. When, therefore, Berkeley, supposed that the only\nthing of which I am directly aware is my own sensations and ideas, he\nsupposed what was false; and when Kant supposed that the objectivity of\nthings in space _consisted_ in the fact that they were \"Vorstellungen\"\nhaving to one another different relations from those which the\nsame \"Vorstellungen\" have to one another in subjective experience,\nhe supposed what was equally false. I am as directly aware of the\nexistence of material things in space as of my own sensations; and\n_what_ I am aware of with regard to each is exactly the same--namely\nthat in one case the material thing, and in the other case my sensation\ndoes really exist. The question requiring to be asked about material\nthings is thus not: What reason have we for supposing that anything\nexists _corresponding_ to our sensations? but: What reason have we for\nsupposing that material things do _not_ exist, since _their_ existence\nhas precisely the same evidence as that of our sensations? That either\nexist _may_ be false; but if it is a reason for doubting the existence\nof matter, that it is an inseparable aspect of our experience, the same\nreasoning will prove conclusively that our experience does not exist\neither, since that must also be an inseparable aspect of our experience\nof _it._ The only _reasonable_ alternative to the admission that matter\nexists _as well as_ spirit, is absolute Scepticism--that, as likely as\nnot _nothing_ exists at all. All other suppositions--the Agnostic's,\nthat something, at all events, does exist, as much as the Idealist's,\nthat spirit does--are, if we have no reason for believing in matter, as\nbaseless as the grossest superstitions.\n\n\n[1] _International Journal of Ethics,_ October, 1902.\n\n\n\n\nTHE NATURE AND REALITY OF OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION\n\n\nThere are two beliefs in which almost all philosophers, and almost all\nordinary people are agreed. Almost everyone believes that he himself\nand what he directly perceives do not constitute the whole of reality:\nhe believes that _something_ other than himself and what he directly\nperceives _exists_ or is _real._ I do not mean to say that almost\neveryone believes that what he directly perceives is real: I only mean\nthat he does believe that, whether what he directly perceives is real\nor not, something other than it and other than himself certainly is so.\nAnd not only does each of us thus agree in believing that _something_\nother than himself and what he directly perceives is real: almost\neveryone also believes that _among_ the real things, other than himself\nand what he directly perceives, are other persons who have thoughts\nand perceptions in some respects similar to his own. That most people\nbelieve this I think I need scarcely try to show. But since a good many\nphilosophers may appear to have held views contradictory of this one, I\nwill briefly point out my reason for asserting that most philosophers,\neven among those (if any) who have believed the contradictory of this,\nhave yet held this as well. Almost all philosophers tell us something\nabout the nature of _human_ knowledge and _human_ perception. They tell\nus that _we_ perceive so and so; that the nature or origin of _our_\nperceptions is such and such; or (as I have just been telling you) that\nmen in general have such and such beliefs. It might, indeed, be said\nthat we are not to interpret such language too strictly: that, though\na philosopher talks about _human_ knowledge and _our_ perceptions,\nhe only means to talk about his own. But in many cases a philosopher\nwill leave no doubt upon this point, by expressly assuming that there\nare other perceptions, which differ in some respects from his own:\nsuch, for instance, is the case when (as is so common nowadays) a\nphilosopher introduces psycho-genetic considerations into his arguments\n--considerations concerning the nature of the perceptions of men who\nexisted before and at a much lower stage of culture than himself.\nAny philosopher, who uses such arguments, obviously assumes that\nperceptions other than his own have existed or been real. And even\nthose philosophers who think themselves justified in the conclusion\nthat neither their own perceptions nor any perceptions like theirs are\n_ultimately_ real, would, I think admit, that _phenomenally_, at least,\nthey _are_ real, and are certainly _more_ real than some other things.\n\nAlmost everyone, then, does believe that some perceptions other than\nhis own, and which he himself does not directly perceive, are real; and\nbelieving this, he believes that something other than himself and what\nhe directly perceives is real. But how do we know that anything exists\nexcept our own perceptions, and what we directly perceive? How do we\nknow that there are any other people, who have perceptions in some\nrespects similar to our own?\n\nI believe that these two questions express very exactly the nature of\nthe problem which it is my chief object, in this paper, to discuss.\nWhen I say these words to you, they will at once suggest to your minds\nthe very question, to which I desire to find an answer; they will\nconvey to you the very same meaning which I have before my mind, when I\nuse the words. You will understand at once what question it is that I\nmean to ask. But, for all that, the words which I have used are highly\nambiguous. If you begin to ask yourselves what I do mean by them, you\nwill find that there are several quite different things which I might\nmean. And there is, I think, great danger of confusing these different\nmeanings with one another. I think that philosophers, when they have\nasked this question in one sense, have often answered it in quite a\ndifferent sense; and yet have supposed that the answer which they have\ngiven is an answer to the very same question which they originally\nasked. It is precisely because there is this ambiguity--this danger of\nconfusion, in the words which I have used, that I have chosen to use\nthem. I wish to point out as clearly as I can, not only what I do mean\nby them, but also some things which I do _not_ mean; and I wish to make\nit clear that the questions which I do _not_ mean to ask, are different\nquestions from that which I do mean to ask.\n\nI will take the second of my two questions, since there is in the other\nan additional ambiguity to which I do not now wish to call attention.\nMy second question was: How do we know that there exist any other\npeople who have perceptions in some respects similar to our own? What\ndoes this question mean?\n\nNow I think you may have noticed that when you make a statement to\nanother person, and he answers \"How do you know that that is so?\" he\nvery often means to suggest that you do _not_ know it. And yet, though\nhe means to suggest that you do not _know_ it, he may not for a moment\nwish to suggest that you do not _believe_ it, nor even that you have\nnot that degree or kind of conviction, which goes beyond mere belief,\nand which may be taken to be essential to anything which can properly\nbe called knowledge. He does not mean to suggest for a moment that you\nare saying something which you do not believe to be true, or even that\nyou are not thoroughly convinced of its truth. What he does mean to\nsuggest is that what you asserted was not _true_, even though you may\nnot only have believed it but felt sure that it was true. He suggests\nthat you don't _know_ it, in the sense that what you believe or feel\nsure of is not true.\n\nNow I point this out, not because I myself mean to suggest that we\ndon't know the existence of other persons, but merely in order to show\nthat the word \"know\" is sometimes used in a sense in which it is not\nmerely equivalent to \"believe\" or \"feel sure of.\" When the question\n\"How do you _know_ that?\" is asked, the questioner does not merely\nmean to ask \"how do you come to believe that, or to be convinced of\nit?\" He sometimes, and I think generally, means to ask a question with\nregard to the _truth_, and not with regard to the _existence_ of your\nbelief. And similarly when I ask the question \"How do we know that\nother people exist?\" I do _not_ mean to ask \"How do we come to believe\nin or be convinced of their existence?\" I do not intend to discuss this\nquestion _at all._ I shall not ask what _suggests_ to us our belief in\nthe existence of other persons or of an external world; I shall not\nask whether we arrive at it by inference or by \"instinct\" or in any\nother manner, which ever has been or may be suggested: I shall discuss\nno question of any kind whatever with regard to its origin, or cause,\nor the way in which it arises. These psychological questions are _not_\nwhat I propose to discuss. When I ask the question \"How do we know that\nother people exist?\" I do _not_ mean:\n\n\"How does our belief in their existence arise?\"\n\nBut if I do not mean this what do I mean P I have said that I mean\nto ask a question with regard to the _truth_ of that belief; and the\nparticular question which I mean to ask might be expressed in the\nwords: _What reason have_ we for our belief in the existence of other\npersons? But these are words which themselves need some explanation,\nand I will try to give it.\n\nIn the first place, then, when I talk of \"a reason,\" I mean _only_\na good reason and _not_ a bad one. A bad reason is, no doubt, a\nreason, in one sense of the word; but I mean to use the word \"reason\"\nexclusively in the sense in which it is equivalent to \"good reason.\"\nBut what, then, is meant by a good reason for a belief? I think I can\nexpress sufficiently accurately what I mean by it in this connection,\nas follows:--A good reason for a belief is a proposition which is\ntrue, and which would not be true unless the belief were also true. We\nshould, I think, commonly say that when a man knows such a proposition,\nhe has a good reason for his belief; and, when he knows no such\nproposition, we should say that he has no reason for it. When he knows\nsuch a proposition, we should say he knows something which is a reason\nfor thinking his belief to be true--something from which it _could_ be\nvalidly inferred. And if, in answer to the question \"How do you know\nso and so?\" he were to state such a proposition, we should, I think,\nfeel that he had answered the question which we meant to ask. Suppose,\nfor instance, in answer to the question \"How do you know that?\" he were\nto say \"I saw it in the _Times.\"_ Then, if we believed that he had\nseen it in the _Times_, and also believed that it would not have been\nin the _Times_, unless it had been true, we should admit that he had\nanswered our question. We should no longer doubt that he did _know_\nwhat he asserted, we should no longer doubt that his belief was true.\nBut if, on the other hand, we believed that he had not seen it in the\n_Times_--if, for instance, we had reason to believe that what he saw\nwas not the statement which he made, but some other statement which\nhe mistook for it; or if we believed that the kind of statement in\nquestion was one with regard to which there was no presumption that,\nbeing in the _Times_, it would be true: in _either_ of these cases\nwe should, I think, feel that he had _not_ answered our question. We\nshould still doubt whether what he had said was true. We should still\ndoubt whether he _knew_ what he asserted; and since a man cannot tell\nyou how he _knows_ a thing unless he does know that thing, we should\nthink that, though he might have told us truly how he _came to believe\nit,_ he had certainly not told us how he _knew_ it. But though we\nshould thus hold that he had _not_ told us _how he knew_ what he had\nasserted, and that he had given us no reason for believing it to be\ntrue; we must yet admit that he had given us a reason in a sense--a\n_bad_ reason, a reason which was no reason because it had no tendency\nto show that what he believed was true; and we might also be perfectly\nconvinced that he had given us _the reason_ why he believed it--the\nproposition by believing which he was induced also to believe his\noriginal assertion.\n\nI mean, then, by my question, \"How do we know that other people\nexist?\" what, I believe, is ordinarily meant, namely, \"What reason\nhave we for believing that they exist?\" and by this again I mean, what\nI also believe is ordinarily meant, namely, \"What proposition do we\nbelieve, which is both true itself and is also such that it would not\nbe true, unless other people existed?\" And I hope it is plain that\nthis question, thus explained, is quite a different question from the\npsychological question, which I said I did _not_ mean to ask--from the\nquestion, \"How does our belief in the existence of other people arise?\"\nMy illustration, I hope, has made this plain. For I have pointed out\nthat we may quite well hold that a man has told us how a belief of\nhis arises, and even what was the reason which made him adopt that\nbelief, and yet may have failed to give us any _good reason_ for his\nbelief--any proposition which is both true itself, and also such that\nthe truth of his belief follows from it. And, indeed, it is plain that\nif any one ever believes what is false, he is believing something for\nwhich there _is_ no good reason, in the sense which I have explained,\nand for which, therefore, he cannot possibly have a good reason; and\nyet it plainly does not follow that his belief did not arise in anyway\nwhatever, nor even that he had no reason for it--no bad reason. It\nis plain that false beliefs do arise in some way or other--they have\norigins and causes: and many people who hold them _have_ bad reasons\nfor holding them--their belief does arise (by inference or otherwise)\nfrom their belief in some other proposition, which is not itself true,\nor else is not a _good_ reason for holding that, which they infer\nfrom it, or which, in some other way, it induces them to believe. I\nsubmit, therefore, that the question, \"What good reason have we for\nbelieving in the existence of other people?\" is different from the\nquestion, \"How does that belief arise?\" But when I say this, I must\nnot be misunderstood; I must not be understood to affirm that the\nanswer to both questions _may_ not, in a sense, be the same. I fully\nadmit that the very same fact, which suggests to us the belief in the\nexistence of other people, _may_ also be a good reason for believing\nthat they do exist. All that I maintain is that the question whether\nit is a good reason for that belief is a different question from the\nquestion whether it suggests that belief: if we assert that a certain\nfact _both_ suggests our belief in the existence of other persons and\nis _also_ a good reason for holding that belief, we are asserting two\ndifferent things and not one only. And hence, when I assert, as I shall\nassert, that we _have_ a good reason for our belief in the existence\nof other persons, I must not be understood also to assert either that\nwe infer the existence of other persons from this good reason, or that\nour belief in that good reason suggests our belief in the existence\nof other persons in any other way. It is plain, I think, that a man\nmay believe two true propositions, of which the one would not be true,\nunless the other were true too, without, in any sense whatever, having\narrived at his belief in the one _from_ his belief in the other; and it\nis plain, at all events, that the question whether his belief in the\none _did_ arise from his belief in the other, is a different question\nfrom the question whether the truth of the one belief follows from the\ntruth of the other.\n\nI hope, then, that I have made it a little clearer what I mean by the\nquestion: \"What reason have we for believing in the existence of other\npeople?\" and that what I mean by it is at all events different from\nwhat is meant by the question: \"How does our belief in the existence of\nother people arise?\"\n\nBut I am sorry to say that I have not yet reached the end of my\nexplanations as to what my meaning is. I am afraid that the subject may\nseem very tedious. I can assure you that I have found it excessively\ntedious to try to make my meaning clear to myself. I have constantly\nfound that I was confusing one question with another, and that, where\nI had thought I had a good reason for some assertion, I had in reality\nno good reason. But I may perhaps remind you that this question, \"How\ndo we know so and so?\" \"What reason have we for believing it?\" is one\nof which philosophy is full; and one to which the most various answers\nhave been given. Philosophy largely consists in giving reasons; and the\nquestion what are good reasons for a particular conclusion and what are\nbad, is one upon which philosophers have disagreed as much as on any\nother question. For one and the same conclusion different philosophers\nhave given not only different, but incompatible, reasons; and\nconversely different philosophers have maintained that one and the same\nfact is a reason for incompatible conclusions. We are apt, I think,\nsometimes to pay too little attention to this fact. When we have taken,\nperhaps, no little pains to assure ourselves that our own reasoning\nis correct, and especially when we know that a great many other\nphilosophers agree with us, we are apt to assume that the arguments\nof those philosophers, who have come to a contradictory conclusion,\nare scarcely worthy of serious consideration. And yet, I think, there\nis scarcely a single reasoned conclusion in philosophy, as to which\nwe shall not find that some other philosopher, who has, so far as we\nknow, bestowed equal pains on his reasoning, and with equal ability,\nhas reached a conclusion incompatible with ours. We may be satisfied\nthat we are right, and we may, in fact, be so; but it is certain that\n_both_ cannot be right: either our opponent or we must have mistaken\nbad reasons for good. And this being so, however satisfied we may be\nthat it is not we who have done so, I think we should at least draw the\nconclusion that it is by no means easy to avoid mistaking bad reasons\nfor good; and that no process, however laborious, which is in the least\nlikely to help us in avoiding this should be evaded. But it is at least\npossible that one source of error lies in mistaking one kind of reason\nfor another--in supposing that, because there is, in one sense, a\nreason for a given conclusion, there is also a reason in another, or\nthat because there is, in one sense, no reason for a given conclusion,\nthere is, therefore, no reason at all. I believe myself that this _is_\na very frequent source of error: but it is at least a possible one.\nAnd where, as disagreements show, there certainly is error on one\nside or the other, and reason, too, to suppose that the error is not\neasy to detect, I think we should spare no pains in investigating any\nsource, from which it is even possible that the error may arise. For\nthese reasons I think I am perhaps doing right in trying to explain as\nclearly as possible not only what reasons we have for believing in an\nexternal world, but also in what sense I take them to be reasons.\n\nI proceed, then with my explanation. And there is one thing, which, I\nthink my illustration has shown that I do _not_ mean. I have defined\na reason for a belief as a true proposition, which would not be true\nunless the belief itself--what is believed--were also true; and I\nhave used, as synonymous with this form of words, the expressions: A\nreason for a belief is a true proposition from which the truth of the\nbelief _follows_ from which it _could_ be _validly inferred._ Now these\nexpressions might suggest the idea that I mean to restrict the word\n\"reason,\" to what, in the strictest sense, might be called a _logical_\nreason--to propositions from which the belief in question _follows,_\naccording to the rules of inference accepted by Formal Logic. But I\nam _not_ using the words \"follow,\" \"validly inferred,\" in this narrow\nsense; I do _not_ mean to restrict the words \"reason for a belief\"\nto propositions from which the laws of Formal Logic state that the\nbelief could be deduced. The illustration which I gave is inconsistent\nwith this restricted meaning. I said that the fact that a statement\nappeared in the _Times_ might be a good reason for believing that\nthat statement was true. And I am using the word \"reason\" in the wide\nand popular sense, in which it really might be. If, for instance,\nthe _Times_ stated that the King was dead, we should think that was\na good reason for believing that the King was dead; we should think\nthat the _Times_ would not have made such a statement as that unless\nthe King really were dead. We should, indeed, not think that the\nstatement in the _Times_ rendered it absolutely _certain_ that the\nKing was dead. But it _is_ extremely unlikely that the _Times_ would\nmake a statement of this kind unless it were true; and, in that sense,\nthe fact of the statement appearing in the _Times_ would render it\n_highly probable_--much more likely than not--that the King was dead.\nAnd I wish it to be understood that I am using the words \"reason for\na belief\" in this extremely wide sense. When I look for a good reason\nfor our belief in the existence of other people, I shall not reject any\nproposition merely on the ground that it only renders their existence\nprobable--only shows it to be more likely than not that they exist.\nProvided that the proposition in question does render it _positively\nprobable_ that they exist, then, if it also conforms to the conditions\nwhich I am about to mention, I shall call it a \"good reason.\"\n\nBut it is not every proposition which renders it probable that\nother people exist, which I shall consider to be a good answer to\nmy question. I have just explained that my meaning is wide in one\ndirection--in admitting _some_ propositions which render a belief\nmerely probable; but I have now to explain that it is restricted in\ntwo other directions. I do mean to exclude certain propositions which\ndo render that belief probable. When I ask: What reason have _we_ for\nbelieving in the existence of other people? a certain ambiguity is\nintroduced by the use of the plural \"we.\" If each of several different\npersons has a reason for believing that he himself exists, then it is\nnot merely probable, but certain, according to the rules of Formal\nLogic, that, in a sense, _they_ \"have a reason for believing\" that\nseveral people exist; each has a reason for believing that he himself\nexists; and, therefore, all of them, taken together, have reasons for\nsupposing that several persons exist. If, therefore, I were asking\nthe question: What reason have _we_ for believing in the existence\nof other persons? in this sense, it would follow that if each of us\nhas a reason for believing in his own existence, these reasons, taken\ntogether, would be a reason for believing in the existence of all of\nus. But I am not asking the question in this sense: it is plain that\nthis is not its natural sense. What I do mean to ask is: Does _each\nsingle one_ of us know any proposition, which is a reason for believing\nthat _others_ exist? I am using \"we,\" that is to say, in the sense\nof \"each of us.\" But again I do mean _each_ of us: I am not merely\nasking whether some _one_ man knows a proposition which is a reason\nfor believing that other men exist. It would be possible that some\none man, or some few men, should know such a proposition, and yet the\nrest know no such proposition. But I am not asking whether this is the\ncase. I am asking whether among propositions of the kind which (as we\ncommonly suppose) all or almost all men know, there is any which is a\nreason for supposing that other men exist. And in asking this question\nI am not begging the question by supposing that all men do exist. My\nquestion might, I think, be put quite accurately as follows. There are\ncertain kinds of belief which, as we commonly suppose, all or almost\nall men share. I describe this kind of belief as \"our\" beliefs, simply\nas an easy way of pointing out which kind of belief I mean, but without\nassuming that all men do share them. And I then ask: Supposing a\nsingle man to have beliefs of this kind, which among them would be a\ngood reason for supposing that other men existed having like beliefs?\n\nThis, then, is the first restriction which I put upon the meaning\nof my question. And it is, I think, a restriction which, in their\nnatural meaning, the words suggest. When we ask: What reason have\nwe for believing that other people exist? we naturally understand\nthat question to be equivalent to: What reason has _each_ of us for\nthat belief? And this question again is naturally equivalent to the\nquestion: Which among the propositions that a single man believes, but\nwhich are of the kind which (rightly or wrongly) we assume all men to\nbelieve, are such that they would not be true unless some other person\nthan that man existed? But there is another restriction which, I think,\nthe words of my question also naturally suggest. If we were to ask\nanyone the question: How do you know that you did see that statement\nin the _Times_? and he were to answer \"Because I did see it in the\n_Times_ and in the _Standard_ too,\" we should not think that he had\ngiven us a _reason_ for the belief that he saw it in the _Times._ We\nshould not think his answer a _reason_, because it asserts the very\nthing for which we require a reason. And similarly when I ask: How\ndo we know that any thing or person exists, other than ourselves and\nwhat we directly perceive? What reason have we for believing this? I\nmust naturally be understood to mean: What proposition, _other_ than\none which itself asserts or presupposes the existence of something\nbeyond ourselves and our own perceptions, is a reason for supposing\nthat such a thing exists? And this restriction obviously excludes an\nimmense number of propositions of a kind which all of us do believe. We\nall of us believe an immense number of different propositions about\nthe existence of things which we do not directly perceive, and many\nof these propositions are, in my sense, good reasons for believing in\nthe existence of still other things. The belief in the existence of a\nstatement in the _Times,_ when we have not seen that statement, may,\nas I implied, be a good reason for believing that someone is dead. But\nno such proposition can be a good answer to my question, because it\nasserts the very kind of thing for which I require a reason: it asserts\nthe existence of something other than myself and what I directly\nperceive. When I am asking: What reason have I for believing in the\nexistence of anything but myself, my own perceptions, and what I do\ndirectly perceive? you would naturally understand me to mean: What\nreason, _other than_ the existence of such a thing, have I for this\nbelief?\n\nEach of us, then, we commonly assume, believes some true propositions,\nwhich do not themselves assert the existence of anything other than\nhimself, his own perceptions, or what he directly perceives. Each of\nus, for instance, believes that he himself has and has had certain\nparticular perceptions: and these propositions are propositions of\nthe kind I mean--propositions which do not themselves assert the\nexistence of anything _other than_ himself, his own perceptions,\nand what he directly perceives: they are, I think, by no means the\nonly propositions of this kind, which most of us believe: but they\n_are_ propositions of this kind. But, as I say, I am not assuming\nthat each of us--each of several different people--does believe\npropositions of this kind. All that I assume is that at least one man\ndoes believe some such propositions. And then I ask: Which among those\ntrue propositions, which one man believes, are such that they would\nprobably not be true, unless some other man existed and had certain\nparticular perceptions? Which among them are such that it _follows_\n(in the wide sense, which I have explained) from their truth, that it\nis more likely than not that some other man has perceptions? This is\nthe meaning of my question, so far as I have hitherto explained it:\nand I hope this meaning is quite clear. It is in this sense that I am\nasking: What reason have we for believing that other people exist? How\ndo we know that they exist? This, indeed, is not _all_ that I mean by\nthat question: there is one other point--the most important one--which\nremains to be explained. But this is _part_ of what I mean to ask; and\nbefore I go on to explain what else I mean, I wish first to stop and\nenquire what is the answer to this part of my question. What is the\nanswer to the question: Which among the true propositions, of a kind\nwhich (as we commonly assume) each of us believes, and which do not\nthemselves assert the existence of anything other than that person\nhimself, his own perceptions, or what he directly perceives, are such\nthat they would probably not be true unless some other person existed,\nwho had perceptions in some respects similar to his own?\n\nNow to this question the answer is very obvious. It is very obvious\nthat in this sense we have reasons for believing in the existence of\nother persons, and also what some of those reasons are. But I wish\nto make it quite plain that this is so: that in this sense one man\n_has_ a reason for believing that another has certain perceptions. All\nthat I am asking you to grant, is, you see, that some of you would\nnot be having just those perceptions which you now have, unless I,\nas I read this paper, were perceiving more or less black marks on a\nmore or less white ground; or that I on the other hand, should not\nbe having just those perceptions which I now have, unless some other\npersons than myself were hearing the sounds of my voice. And I am\nnot asking you even to grant that this is certain--only that it is\npositively probable--more likely than not. Surely it is very obvious\nthat this proposition is true. But I wish to make it quite clear\nwhat would be the consequences of denying that any such propositions\nare true--propositions which assert that the existence of certain\nperceptions in one man are a reason for believing in the existence of\ncertain perceptions in another man--which assert that one man would\nprobably not have had just those perceptions which he did have, unless\nsome other man had had certain particular perceptions. It is plain, I\nthink, that, unless some such propositions are true, we have no more\nreason for supposing that Alexander the Great ever saw an elephant,\nthan for supposing that Sindbad the Sailor saw a Roc; we have no more\nreason for supposing that anybody saw Julius Caesar murdered in the\nSenate House at Rome, than for supposing that somebody saw him carried\nup to Heaven in a fiery chariot. It is plain, I think, that if we have\nany reason at all for supposing that in all probability Alexander the\nGreat did see an elephant, and that in all probability no such person\nas Sindbad the Sailor ever saw a Roc, part of that reason consists\nin the assumption that some other person would probably not have had\njust those perceptions which he did have, unless Alexander the Great\nhad seen an elephant, and unless Sindbad the Sailor had not seen a\nRoc. And most philosophers, I think, are willing to admit that we have\nsome reason, in some sense or other, for such propositions as these.\nThey are willing to admit not only that some persons probably did see\nJulius Caesar murdered in the Senate House; but also that some persons,\nother than those who saw it, had and have _some reason_ for supposing\nthat some one else probably saw it. Some sceptical philosophers might,\nindeed, deny both propositions; and to refute their views, I admit,\nother arguments are needed than any which I shall bring forward in this\npaper. But most philosophers will, I think, admit not only that facts,\nfor which there is, as we say, good historical evidence, are probably\ntrue; but also that what we call good historical evidence really is\nin some sense a good reason for thinking them true. Accordingly I am\ngoing to assume that many propositions of the following kind are true.\nPropositions, namely, which assert that one man would probably not\nhave certain perceptions which he does have, unless some other man had\ncertain particular perceptions. That some of you, for instance, would\nprobably not be having precisely the perceptions which you are having,\nunless I were having the perception of more or less black marks on a\nmore or less white ground. And, in this sense, I say, we certainly have\nreasons for supposing that other people have perceptions similar, in\nsome respects, to those which we sometimes have.\n\nBut when I said I was going to ask the question: What reason have we\nfor supposing that other people exist? you will certainly not have\nthought that I merely meant to ask the question which I have just\nanswered. My words will have suggested to you something much more\nimportant than merely this. When, for instance, I said that to the\nquestion \"How do you know that?\" the answer \"I saw it in the _Times\"_\nwould be a satisfactory answer, you may have felt, as I felt, that it\nwould not in all circumstances be regarded as such. The person who\nasked the question might, in some cases, fairly reply: \"That is no\nanswer: how do you know that, because you saw a thing in the _Times_,\nit is therefore true?\" In other words he might ask fora _reason_ for\nsupposing that the occurrence of a particular statement in the _Times_\nwas a reason for supposing that statement true. And this is a question\nto which we all believe that there may be an answer. We believe that,\nwith some kinds of statements which the _Times_ makes--some kinds of\nstatements with regard to Fiscal Policy for example--the fact that\nthe _Times_ makes them is no reason for supposing them to be true:\nwhereas with regard to other kinds of statements, which it makes, such\na statement, for instance, as that the King was dead, the fact that it\nmakes them _is_ a reason for supposing them true. We believe that there\nare some kinds of statements, which it is very unlikely the _Times_\nwould make, unless they were true; and others which it is not at all\nunlikely that the _Times_ might make, although they were not true. And\nwe believe that a reason might be given for distinguishing, in this\nway, between the two different kinds of statement: for thinking that,\nin some cases (on points, for instance, which, as we should say, are\nnot simple questions of fact) the _Times_ is fallible, whereas in other\ncases, it is, though not absolutely infallible, very unlikely to state\nwhat is not true.\n\nNow it is precisely in this further sense that I wish to consider: what\nreason have we for believing that certain particular things, other\nthan ourselves, our own perceptions, and what we directly perceive,\nare real? I have asserted that I do have certain perceptions, which it\nis very unlikely I should have, unless some other person had certain\nparticular perceptions; that, for instance, it is very unlikely I\nshould be having precisely those perceptions which I am now having\nunless someone else were hearing the sound of my voice. And I now\nwish to ask: What reason have I for supposing that this is unlikely?\nWhat reason has any of us for supposing that any such proposition is\ntrue? And I mean by \"having a reason\" precisely what I formerly meant.\nI mean: What other proposition do I know, which would not be true,\nunless my perception were connected with someone else's perception, in\nthe manner in which I asserted them to be connected? Here again I am\nasking for _a good reason_; and am not asking a psychological question\nwith regard to origin. Here again I am not asking for a reason, in the\nstrict sense of Formal Logic; I am merely asking for a proposition\nwhich would probably not be true, unless what I asserted were true.\nHere again I am asking for some proposition of a kind which _each_ of\nus believes; I am asking: What reason has _each_ of us for believing\nthat some of his perceptions are connected with particular perceptions\nof other people in the manner I asserted?--for believing that he would\nnot have certain perceptions that he does have, unless some other\nperson had certain particular perceptions? And here again I am asking\nfor a _reason_--I am asking for some proposition _other_ than one\nwhich itself asserts: When one man has a perception of such and such a\nparticular kind, it _is_ probable that another man has a perception or\nthought of this or that other kind.\n\nBut what kind of reason can be given for believing a proposition of\nthis sort? For believing a proposition which asserts that, since one\nparticular thing exists, it is probable that another particular thing\nalso exists? One thing I think is plain, namely that we can have no\ngood reason for believing such a proposition, unless we have good\nreason for believing some _generalisation._ It is commonly believed,\nfor instance, that certain so-called flint arrow-heads, which have been\ndiscovered, were probably made by prehistoric men; and I think it is\nplain that we have no reason for believing this unless we have reason\nto suppose that objects which resemble these in certain particular\nrespects are _generally_ made by men--are _more often_ made by men\nthan by any other agency. Unless certain particular characteristics\nwhich those arrow-heads have were characteristics which belonged at\nleast more frequently to articles of human manufacture than to any\narticles not made by men, it would surely be just as likely as not\nthat these arrowheads were _not_ made by men--that they were, in fact\nnot arrow-heads. That is to say, unless we have reason to assert a\n_generalisation_--the generalisation that objects of a certain kind\nare _generally_ made by men, we have no reason to suppose that these\nparticular objects, which are of the kind in question, _were_ made\nby men. And the same, so far as I can see, is true universally. If\nwe ever have any reason for asserting that, since one particular\nthing exists, another probably exists or existed or will exist also\npart of our reason, at least, must consist in reasons for asserting\nsome generalisation--for asserting that the existence of things of\na particular kind is, more often than not, accompanied or preceded\nor followed by the existence of things of another particular kind.\nIt is, I think, sometimes assumed that an alternative to this theory\nmay be found in the theory that the existence of one kind of thing\n\"intrinsically points to,\" or is \"intrinsically a sign or symbol of\"\nthe existence of another thing. It is suggested that when a thing\nwhich thus points to the existence of another thing exists, then it is\nat least probable that the thing \"pointed to\" exists also. But this\ntheory, I think, offers no real alternative. For, in the first place,\nwhen we say that the existence of one thing A is a \"sign of\" or \"points\nto\" the existence of another thing B, we very commonly actually mean to\nsay that when a thing like A exists, a thing like B _generally_ exists\ntoo. We may, no doubt, mean something else _too_; but this we do mean.\nWe say, for instance, that certain particular words, which we hear or\nread, are a \"sign\" that somebody has thought of the particular things\nwhich we call the meaning of those words. But we should certainly\nhesitate to admit that the hearing or reading of certain words could be\ncalled a \"sign\" of the existence of certain thoughts, unless it were\ntrue that when those words are heard or read, the thoughts in question\n_generally_ have existed. If when those words were heard or read, the\nthoughts had generally _not_ existed, we should say that, in one sense\nof the word at all events, the hearing of the words was _not_ a sign of\nthe existence of the thoughts. In this sense, therefore, to say that\nthe existence of A \"points to\" or \"is a sign of\" the existence of B is\nactually to say that when A exists, B _generally_ exists also. But,\nno doubt, the words \"points to\" \"is a sign of\" may be used in some\nother sense: they may, for instance, mean only that the existence of A\n_suggests_ in some way the belief that B exists. And in such a case we\ncertainly might know that the existence of A pointed to the existence\nof B, without knowing that when A existed B generally existed also.\nLet us suppose, then, that in some such sense A does \"point to\" the\nexistence of B; can this fact give us a reason for supposing it even\nprobable that B existed. Certainly it can, _provided_ it is true that\nwhen A _does_ point to the existence of B, B _generally_ exists. But\nsurely it can do so, only on this condition. If when A _points_ to\nthe existence of B, B, nevertheless, does _not_ generally exist, then\nsurely the fact that A points to the existence of B can constitute no\nprobability that B does not exist: on the contrary it will then be\nprobable that, even though A \"points to\" the existence of B, B does\n_not_ exist. We have, in fact, only substituted the generalisation that\nA's _pointing to_ B is generally accompanied by the existence of B, for\nthe generalisation that A's _existence_ is generally accompanied by the\nexistence of B. If we are to have any reason for asserting that, when\nA _points to_ or is a sign of the existence of B, B probably exists, we\nmust still have a reason for some generalisation--for a generalisation\nwhich asserts that when one thing points to the existence of another,\nthat other _generally_ exists.\n\nIt is plain, then, I think, that if we are to find a reason for the\nassertion that some particular perception of mine would probably not\nexist, unless someone else were having or had had a perception of a\nkind which I can name, we must find a reason for _some_ generalisation.\nAnd it is also plain, I think, that in many cases of this kind the\ngeneralisation must consist in an assertion that when one man has a\ncertain kind of perception, some other man generally has had some\nother perception or belief. We assume, for instance, that when we hear\nor read certain words, somebody besides ourselves has thought the\nthoughts, which constitute the meaning of those words; and it is plain,\nI think, that we have no reason for this assumption except one which\nis also a reason for the assumption that when certain words are heard\nor read, somebody generally has had certain thoughts. And my enquiry,\ntherefore, at least includes the enquiry: What reasons have we for such\ngeneralisations as these? for generalisations which assert a connection\nbetween the existence of a certain kind of perception in one man, and\nthat of a certain kind of perception or belief in another man?\n\nAnd to this question, I think, but one answer can be given. If we\nhave any reason for such generalisations at all, some reason must\nbe given, in one way or another, by observation--by observation,\nunderstood in the wide sense in which it includes \"experiment.\" No\nphilosopher, I think, has ever failed to assume that observation does\ngive a reason for _some_ generalisations--for some propositions\nwhich assert that when one kind of thing exists, another generally\nexists or has existed in a certain relation to it. Even those who,\nlike Hume, imply that observation cannot give a _reason_ for anything,\nyet constantly appeal to observation in support of generalisations of\ntheir own. And even those who hold that observation can give no reason\nfor any generalisation about the relation of one man's perceptions to\nanother's, yet hold that it _can_ give a reason for generalisations\nabout the relation of some to others among a man's own perceptions.\nIt is, indeed, by no means agreed _how_ observation can give a reason\nfor any generalisation. Nobody knows what reason we have, if we have\nany, for supposing that it can. But _that_ it can, everyone, I think,\nassumes. I think, therefore, most philosophers will agree, that if we\ncan find any reason at all for generalisations of the kind in which\nI am interested, a reason for _some_ of them at all events must be\nfound in observation. And what I propose to ask is: What reason can be\nfound in observation for even a single proposition of the kind I have\ndescribed? for a proposition which asserts that when one man has one\nkind of perception, another man generally has or has had another.\n\nBut, when it is said that observation gives us a reason for\ngeneralisations, two things may be meant neither of which I mean. In\nthe first place, we popularly use \"observation\" in a sense in which\nwe can be said to _observe_ the perceptions, feelings and thoughts\nof other people: in which, therefore, we can be said to observe the\nvery things with regard to which I am asking what reason we have for\nbelieving in their existence. But it is universally[1] agreed that\nthere is a sense in which no man can observe the perceptions, feelings\nor thoughts of any other man. And it is to this strict sense that\nI propose to confine the word. I shall use it in a sense, in which\nwe can certainly be said to observe nothing but ourselves, our own\nperceptions, thoughts and feelings, and what we directly perceive. And\nin the second place, it may be said that observations made by another\nperson may give _me_ a reason for believing some generalisation. And\nit is certainly the case that for many of the generalisations in which\nwe all believe, if we have a reason in observation at all, it is not\nin _our own_ observation that we have it: part of our reason, at all\nevents, lies in things which _other_ people have observed but which we\nourselves have not observed. But in asking this particular question,\nI am not asking for reasons of this sort. The very question that I am\nasking is: What reason has any one of us for supposing that any other\nperson whatever has ever made any observations? And just as, in the\nfirst meaning which I gave to this question, it meant: What thing,\nthat any single man observes is such that it would probably not have\nexisted, unless some other man had made a particular observation?\nSo now I am asking: Which among the things, which _one single man\nobserves_, are such that they would probably not have existed, unless\nit were true that some of them generally stood in certain relations to\nobservations of some other person? I am asking: Which among _my own_\nobservations give me a reason for supposing that some of them are of\na kind which are generally preceded or accompanied by observations\nof other people? Which, for instance, among my own observations give\na good reason for the generalisation that when I hear certain words,\nsomebody else has generally had certain particular thoughts, or that\nwhenever anyone hears certain words, somebody else has generally had\nthe thoughts which constitute what we call the meaning of those words?\nI am asking: Which among the vast series of observations, which any\none individual makes during his lifetime, give a good reason for\nany generalisation _whatever_ of this kind--a generalisation which\nasserts that some of them are generally preceded by certain thoughts,\nperceptions or feelings in other persons? I quite admit that there\nare some generalisations of this kind for which the observations of\n_some_ particular men will _not_ give a reason. All that I ask is:\nIs there even _one_ generalisation of this kind, for which the kind\nof observations, which (as we commonly assume) each man, or nearly\nevery man does make, do give a reason? Among observations of the kind\nwhich (as we commonly assume) are common to you and to me, do yours,\nby themselves, give any reason for even _one_ such generalisation?\nAnd do mine, by themselves, give any reason for even _one_ such\ngeneralisation? And if they do, which, among these observations, is it\nwhich do so?\n\nMy question is, then: What reason do my own observations give me, for\nsupposing that any perception whatever, which I have, would probably\nnot occur, unless some other person had a certain kind of perception?\nWhat reason do my own observations give me for supposing, for instance,\nthat I should not be perceiving what I do now perceive, unless\nsomeone were hearing the sound of my voice? What reason do your own\nobservations give you for supposing that you would not be perceiving\njust what you are perceiving, unless I were perceiving more or less\nblack marks on a more or less white ground? The question does, I\nthink, appear to be a reasonable one; and most philosophers, I think,\nhave assumed that there is an answer to it. Yet it may be said that\nthere is no answer to it: that my own observations give me no reason\nwhatever for any single proposition of this kind. There are certain\nphilosophers (even apart from thorough sceptics, with whom, as I have\nsaid, I am not now arguing) who have denied that they do. There are\ncertain philosophers who hold that nothing which any single one of\nus observes or can observe, gives the slightest reason for supposing\nthat any of his own perceptions are generally connected with certain\nperceptions in other people. There are philosophers who hold that the\nonly generalisations for which our own observations do give any warrant\nare generalisations concerning the manner in which our own perceptions,\nthoughts and feelings do and probably will succeed one another; and who\nconclude that, this being so, we have no reason whatever for believing\nin the existence of any other people. And these philosophers are, I\nthink, right in drawing this conclusion from this premiss. It does\nnot, indeed, follow from their premiss that we have not a reason in\nthe sense which I first explained, and in which, I insisted, it must\nbe admitted that we have a reason. It does not follow that some of our\nperceptions _are_ not such as would probably not exist, unless some\nother person had certain perceptions. But, as I have urged, when we\nsay that we have a reason for asserting the existence of something not\nperceived, we commonly mean something more than this. We mean not only\nthat, since what we perceive does exist, the unperceived thing probably\nexists too; we mean also that we have some reason for asserting this\nconnection between the perceived and the unperceived. And holding, as\nwe do, that no reason can be given for asserting such a connection,\nexcept observation, we should say that, if observation gives no reason\nfor asserting it, we have _no_ reason for asserting it; and having no\nreason for asserting this connection between the perceived and the\nunperceived, we should say that we have none either for asserting the\neven probable existence of the unperceived. This, I think, is what\nwe commonly mean by saying that we have no reason to believe in the\nexistence of a particular thing which we do not perceive. And hence,\nI think, those philosophers who hold that our own observations give\nus no reason whatever for any generalisation whatever concerning\nthe connection of any of them with those of other people, are quite\nright in concluding that we have no reason to assert that any other\nperson ever did have any particular thought or perception whatever. I\nthink that the words of this conclusion, understood in their natural\nmeaning, express precisely what the premiss asserts. We need not,\nindeed, conclude, as many of these philosophers are inclined to do,\nthat, because we have no reason for believing in the existence of other\npeople, it is therefore highly doubtful whether they do exist. The\nphilosophers who advocate this opinion commonly refute themselves by\nassigning the existence of other people as part of their reason for\nbelieving that it is very doubtful whether any other people exist. That\nfor which we have no reason may, nevertheless, be certainly true. And,\nindeed, one of the philosophers who hold most clearly and expressly\nthat we do know not only the existence of other people but also that\nof material objects, is also one of those who deny most emphatically\nthat our own observations can give any reason for believing either\nin the one or in the other. I refer to Thomas Reid. Reid, indeed,\nallows himself to use not only the word \"observe,\" but even the word\n\"perceive,\" in that wide sense in which it might be said that we\nobserve or perceive the thoughts and feelings of others: and I think\nthat the fact that he uses the words in this sense, has misled him into\nthinking that his view is more plausible and more in accordance with\nCommon Sense than it really is: by using the words in this sense he is\nable to plead that \"observation\" really does give a reason for some of\nthose generalisations, for which Common Sense holds that \"observation\"\n(in a narrower sense) does give a reason. But with regard to what we\nobserve or perceive, in the strict sense to which 1 am confining those\nwords, he asserts quite explicitly that it gives us no reason either\nfor believing in the existence of material objects or for believing\nin the existence of other minds. Berkeley, he says, has proved\nincontrovertibly that it gives us no reason for the one, and Hume that\nit gives us no reason for the other.\n\nNow these philosophers may be right in holding this. It may, perhaps,\nbe true that, in this sense, my own observations give me no reason\nwhatever for believing that any other person ever has or will perceive\nanything like or unlike what I perceive. But I think it is desirable\nwe should realise how paradoxical are the consequences which must be\nadmitted, if this is true. It must then be admitted that the very\nlarge part of our knowledge, which we suppose to have some basis in\nexperience, is by no means based upon experience, in the sense, and\nto the extent, which we suppose. We do for instance, commonly suppose\nthat there is some basis in experience for the assertion that some\npeople, whom we call Germans, use one set of words to express much the\nsame meaning which we express by using a different set of words. But,\nif this view be correct, we must admit that no person's experience\ngives him any reason whatever for supposing that, when he hears certain\nwords, any one else has ever heard or thought of the same words, or\nmeant anything by them. The view admits, indeed, that I do know that\nwhen I hear certain words, somebody else has generally had thoughts\nmore or less similar to those which I suppose him to have had: but it\ndenies that my own observations could ever give me the least reason\nfor supposing that this is so. It admits that my own observations may\ngive me reason for supposing that _if_ anyone has ever had perceptions\nlike mine in some respects, he will also have had other perceptions\nlike others of mine: but it denies that they give me any reason for\nsupposing that any one else has had a perception like one of mine. It\nadmits that my own observations may give me reason for supposing that\ncertain perceptions and thoughts in _one_ person (_if_ they exist) will\nbe followed or preceded by certain other perceptions and thoughts in\nthat person: but it denies that they give me any reason whatever for\n_any_ similar generalisation concerning the connection of a certain\nkind of perception in one person with a certain kind of perception in\nanother. It admits that I should not have certain perceptions, which\nI do have, unless someone else had had certain other perceptions; but\nit denies that my own observations can give me any reason for saying\nso--for saying that I should not have had this perception, unless\nsomeone else had had that. No observations of mine, it holds, can ever\nrender it probable that such a generalisation is true; no observation\nof mine can ever confirm or verify such a generalisation. If we are to\nsay that any such generalisation whatever is based upon observation,\nwe can only mean, what Reid means, that it is based on a series of\nassumptions. When I observe this particular thing, I assume that _that_\nparticular thing, which I do not observe, exists; when I observe\nanother particular thing, I again assume that a second particular\nthing, which I do not observe, exists; when I observe a third\nparticular thing, I again assume that a third particular thing, which I\ndo not observe, exists. These assumed facts--the assumed fact that one\nobservation of mine is accompanied by the existence of one particular\nkind of thing, and that another observation of mine is accompanied by\nthe existence of a different particular kind of thing, will then give\nme a reason for different generalisations concerning the connection of\ndifferent perceptions of mine with different external objects--objects\nwhich I do not perceive. But (it is maintained) nothing but a mass of\nsuch assumptions will give me a reason for any such generalisation.\n\nNow I think it must be admitted that there is something paradoxical\nin such a view. I think it may be admitted that, in holding it, the\nphilosopher of Common Sense departs from Common Sense at least as far\nin one direction as his opponents had done in another. But I think\nthat there is some excuse for those who hold it: I think that, in one\nrespect, they are more in the right than those who do not hold it--than\nthose who hold that my own observations do give me a reason for\nbelieving in the existence of other people. For those who hold that my\nobservations do give me a reason, have, I believe, universally supposed\nthat the reason lies in a part of my observations, in which no such\nreason is to be found. This is why I have chosen to ask the question:\n_What_ reason do my observations give me for believing that any other\nperson has any particular perceptions or beliefs? I wish to consider\n_which_ among the things which I observe will give such a reason. For\nthis is a question to which no answer, that I have ever seen, appears\nto me to be correct. Those who have asked it have, so far as I know,\nanswered it _either_ by denying that my observations give me any reason\n_or_ by pointing to a part of my observations, which, as it seems to\nme, really do give none. Those who deny are, it seems to me, right in\nholding that the reason given by those who affirm is no reason. And\ntheir correct opinion on this point will, I think, partly serve to\nexplain their denial. They have supposed that if our observations give\nus any reason at all for asserting the existence of other people, that\nreason must lie where it has been supposed to lie by those who hold\nthat they do give a reason. And then, finding that this assigned reason\nis no reason, they have assumed that there is no other.\n\nI am proposing then to ask: Which among the observations, which I make,\nand which (as we commonly suppose) are similar in kind to those which\nall or almost all men make, will give a reason for supposing that the\nexistence of any of them is generally connected with the existence of\ncertain kinds of perception or belief in other people? And in order to\nanswer this question, it is obvious we must first consider two others.\nWe must consider, in the first place: Of what nature must observations\nbe, if they are to give a reason for any generalisation asserting that\nthe existence of one kind of thing is generally connected with that of\nanother? And we must consider in the second place: What kinds of things\ndo we observe?\n\nNow to the first of these questions I am not going to attempt to give\na complete answer. The question concerning the rules of Inductive\nLogic, which is the question at issue, is an immensely difficult and\nintricate question. And I am not going to attempt to say, what kind of\nobservations are _sufficient_ to justify a generalisation. But it is\ncomparatively easy to point out that a certain kind of observations are\n_necessary_ to justify a generalisation: and this is all that I propose\nto do. I wish to point out certain conditions which observations must\nsatisfy, if they are to justify a generalisation; without in any way\nimplying that all observations which do satisfy these conditions,\n_will_ justify a generalisation. The conditions, I shall mention, are\nones which are certainly _not_ sufficient to justify a generalisation;\nbut they are, I think, conditions, without which no generalisation can\nbe justified. If a particular kind of observations do _not_ satisfy\nthese conditions, we can say with certainty that those observations\ngive us _no_ reason for believing in the existence of other people;\nthough, with regard to observations which _do_ satisfy them, we shall\nonly be able to say that they _may_ give a reason.\n\nWhat conditions, then, must observations satisfy, if they are to\njustify a generalisation? Let us suppose that the generalisation to\nbe justified is one which asserts that the existence of a kind of\nobject, which we will call A, is generally preceded, accompanied, or\nfollowed by the existence of a kind of object, which we call B. A, for\ninstance, might be the hearing of a certain word by one person, and B\nthe thought of that which we call the meaning of the word, in another\nperson; and the generalisation to be justified might be that when one\nperson hears a word, not spoken by himself, someone else has generally\nthought of the meaning of that word. What must I have observed, if the\ngeneralisation that the existence of A is generally preceded by the\nexistence of B, is to be justified by my observations? One first point,\nI think, is plain. I must have observed both some object, which is in\nsome respects like A, and which I will call _\u03b1_, and also some object\nin some respects like B which I will call _\u03b2_: I must have observed\nboth _\u03b1_ and _\u03b2_, and also I must have observed _\u03b2_ preceding _\u03b1._\nThis, at least, I must have observed. But I do not pretend to say _how_\nlike _\u03b1_ and _\u03b2_ must be to A and B; nor do I pretend to say how often\nI must have observed _\u03b2_ preceding _\u03b1_, although it is generally held\nthat I must have observed this more than once. These are questions,\nwhich would have to be discussed if we were trying to discover what\nobservations were _sufficient_ to justify the generalisation that the\nexistence of A is generally preceded by that of B. But I am only\ntrying to lay down the minimum which is _necessary_ to justify this\ngeneralisation; and therefore I am content to say that we must have\nobserved something more or less like B preceding something more or less\nlike A, at least once.\n\nBut there is yet another minimum condition. If my observation of _\u03b2_\npreceding _\u03b1_ is to justify the generalisation that the _existence_ of\nA is generally preceded by the _existence_ of B, it is plain, I think,\nthat both the _\u03b2_ and the _\u03b1,_ which I observed, must have _existed_\nor been _real_; and that also the existence of _\u03b2_ must _really_ have\npreceded that of _\u03b1_. It is plain that if, when I observed _\u03b1_ and\n_\u03b2_, _\u03b1_ existed but _\u03b2_ did not, this observation could give me no\nreason to suppose that on another occasion when A existed, _\u03b2_ _would_\nexist. Or again, if, when I observed _\u03b2_ preceding _\u03b1_, both _\u03b2_ and\n_\u03b1_ existed, but the existence of _\u03b2_ did not _really_ precede that of\n\u03b1, but, on the contrary, followed it, this observation could certainly\ngive me no reason to suppose that, in general, the existence of A was\n_preceded_ by the existence of B. Indeed this condition that what is\nobserved must have been _real_ might be said to be included in the very\nmeaning of the word \"observation.\" We should, in this connection, say\nthat we had _not_ observed _\u03b2_ preceding _\u03b1,_ unless _\u03b2_ and _\u03b1_ were\nboth real, and _\u03b2_ had really preceded _\u03b1._ If I say \"I have _observed_\nthat, on one occasion, my hearing of the word 'moon' was followed by\nmy imagining a luminous silvery disc,\" I commonly mean to include in\nmy statement the assertion that I did, on that occasion, really hear\nthe word \"moon,\" and really did have a visual image of a luminous\ndisc, and that my perception was really followed by my imagination.\nIf it were proved to me that this had not really happened, I should\nadmit that I had not really observed it. But though this condition\nthat, if observation is to give reason for a generalisation, what is\nobserved must be real, may thus be said to be implied in the very\nword \"observation,\" it was necessary for me to mention the condition\nexplicitly. It was necessary, because, as I shall presently show,\nwe do and must also use the word \"observation\" in a sense in which\nthe assertion \"I observe A\" by no means includes the assertion \"A\nexists\"--in a sense in which it _may_ be true that though I did observe\nA, yet A did _not_ exist.\n\nBut there is also, I think, a third necessary condition which is very\napt to be overlooked. It may, perhaps, be allowed that observation\ngives some reason for the proposition that hens' eggs are generally\nlaid by hens. I do not mean to say that any one man's observation can\ngive a reason for this proposition: I do not assume either that it can\nor that it cannot. Nor do I mean to make any assumption as to what\nmust be meant by the words \"hens\" and \"eggs,\" if this proposition is\nto be true. I am quite willing to allow for the moment that if it is\ntrue at all, we must understand by \"hens\" and \"eggs,\" objects very\nunlike that which we directly observe, when we see a hen in a yard, or\nan egg on the breakfast-table. I am willing to allow the possibility\nthat, as some Idealists would say, the proposition \"Hens lay eggs\" is\nfalse, unless we mean by it: A certain kind of collection of spirits or\nmonads sometimes has a certain intelligible relation to another kind of\ncollection of spirits or monads. I am willing to allow the possibility\nthat, as Reid and some scientists would say, the proposition \"Hens\nlay eggs\" is false, if we mean by it anything more than that: Certain\nconfigurations of invisible material particles sometimes have a certain\nspatio-temporal relation to another kind of configuration of invisible\nmaterial particles. Or again I am willing to allow, with certain\nother philosophers, that we must, if it is to be true, interpret\nthis proposition as meaning that certain kinds of sensations have to\ncertain other kinds a relation which may be expressed by saying that\nthe one kind of sensations \"lay\" the other kind. Or again, as other\nphilosophers say, the proposition \"Hens lay eggs\" may possibly mean:\nCertain sensations of mine _would_, under certain conditions, have to\ncertain other sensations of mine a relation which may be expressed by\nsaying that the one set would \"lay\" the other set. But whatever the\nproposition \"Hens' eggs are generally laid by hens\" may _mean_, most\nphilosophers would, I think, allow that, in some sense or other, this\nproposition was true. And they would also I think allow that we have\n_some_ reason for it; and that _part_ of this reason at all events lies\nin observation: they would allow that we should have no reason for it\nunless certain things had been observed, which have been observed.\nFew, I think, would say that the existence of an egg \"intrinsically\npoints\" to that of a hen, in such a sense that, even if we had had no\nexperience of any kind concerning the manner in which objects like eggs\nare connected with animals like hens, the mere inspection of an egg\nwould justify the assertion: A hen has probably existed.\n\nI assume, then, that objects having all the characteristics which\nhens' eggs have (whatever these may be) are generally laid by hens\n(whatever hens may be); and I assume that, if we have any reason\nfor this generalisation at all, observation gives us some reason\nfor it. But now, let us suppose that the only observations we had\nmade were those which we should commonly describe by saying that we\nhad seen a hen laying an egg. I do not say that any number of such\nobservations, by themselves, would be _sufficient_ to justify our\ngeneralisation: I think it is plain that they would not. But let us\nsuppose, for the moment, that we had observed nothing else which bore\nupon the connection between hens and eggs; and that, if therefore\nour generalisation was justified by any observations at all, it was\njustified by these. We are supposing, then, that the observations\nwhich we describe as \"seeing hens lay eggs\" give some reason for the\ngeneralisation that eggs of that kind are generally laid by hens. And\nif these observations give reason for this, obviously _in a sense_\nthey give reason for the generalisation that the existence of such an\negg is generally preceded by that of a hen; and hence also, they give\nus reason to suppose that if such an egg exists, a hen has probably\nexisted also--that unless a hen had existed, the egg would not have\nexisted. But the point to which I wish to call attention is that it\nis _only_ in a limited sense that they do give reason for this. They\nonly give us reason to suppose that, for each egg, there has existed a\nhen, which was at some time _near_ the place where the egg in question\nthen was, and which existed at a time _near_ to that at which the egg\nbegan to exist. The only kind of hens, whose existence they do give us\nreason to suppose, are hens, of which each was at some time in spatial\nand temporal proximity (or, if Idealists prefer, in the relations which\nare the \"intelligible counterparts\" of these) to an egg. They give us\nno information at all about the existence of hens (if there are any)\nwhich never came within a thousand miles of an egg, or which were dead\na thousand years before any egg existed. That is to say, they _do_\ngive us reason to suppose that, if a particular egg exists, there has\nprobably existed a hen which was at some time _near_ that egg; but\nthey give us no reason to suppose that, if a particular egg exists,\nthere must have existed a hen which never came near that egg. They\n_do_ give us reason to suppose that, for each egg, there has probably\nexisted a hen which at some time stood to the egg in question in that\nrelation which we have observed to hold between an egg and a hen, when\nwe observed the hen laying an egg. But they give us no reason to infer\nfrom the existence of an egg any other kind of hen: any hen which\n_never_ stood to the egg in the relation in which we have observed that\nsome hens do stand to eggs.\n\nWhat I wish to suggest is that this condition is a universal condition\nfor sound inductions. If the observation of \u03b2 preceding _\u03b1_ can ever\ngive us any reason at all for supposing that the existence of A is\ngenerally preceded by that of B, it can at most only give us reason\nto suppose that the existence of an A is generally preceded by that\nof a B _which stands to our A in the same relation in which \u03b2_ has\nbeen observed to stand to _\u03b1._ It cannot give the least reason for\nsupposing that the existence of an A must have been preceded by that\nof a B, which did _not_ stand to A in the observed relation, but in\nsome quite different one. If we are to have any reason to infer from\nthe existence of an A the existence of such a B, the reason must lie in\nsome different observations. That this is so, in the case of hens' eggs\nand hens, is, I think, obvious: and, if the rule is _not_ universal,\nsome reason should at least be given for supposing that it does apply\nin one case and not in another.\n\nHaving thus attempted to point out some conditions which seem to be\nnecessary, though not _sufficient_, where observation is to give any\nreason for a generalisation, I may now proceed to my second preliminary\nquestion. What kinds of things do we observe?\n\nIn order to illustrate how much and how little I mean by \"observation\"\nor \"direct perception,\" I will take as an instance a very common\nvisual perception. Most of us are familiar with the experience which\nwe should describe by saying that we had seen a red book and a blue\nbook side by side upon a shelf. What exactly can we be said to observe\nor directly perceive when we have such an experience? We certainly\nobserve one colour, which we call blue, and a different colour, which\nwe call red; each of these we observe as having a particular size and\nshape; and we observe also these two coloured patches as having to one\nanother the spatial relation which we express by saying they are side\nby side. All this we certainly see or directly perceive _now,_ whatever\nmay have been the process by which we have come to perceive so much.\nBut when we say, as in ordinary talk we should, that the objects we\nperceive are _books,_ we certainly mean to ascribe to them properties,\nwhich, in a sense which we all understand, are not actually seen by\nus, at the moment when we are merely looking at two books on a shelf\ntwo yards off. And all such properties I mean to exclude as not being\nthen _observed_ or _directly perceived_ by us. When I speak of what\nwe _observe,_ when we see two books on a shelf, I mean to limit the\nexpression to that which is _actually seen._ And, thus understood, the\nexpression does include colours, and the size and shape of colours, and\nspatial relations in three dimensions between these patches of colour,\nbut it includes nothing else.\n\nBut I am also using observation in a sense in which we can be said\nactually to observe a movement. We commonly say that we can sometimes\n_see_ a red billiard ball moving towards a white one on a green table.\nAnd, here again, I do not mean to include in what is directly perceived\nor observed, all that we mean by saying that the two objects perceived\nare billiard-balls. But I do mean to include what (we should say) we\n_actually see._ We actually see a more or less round red patch moving\ntowards a more or less round white patch; we _see_ the stretch of green\nbetween them diminishing in size. And this perception is not merely the\nsame as a series of perceptions--first a perception of a red patch with\na green stretch of one size between it and the white; then a perception\nof a red patch with a green stretch of a different size between it and\nthe white; and so on. In order to perceive a movement we must have a\ndifferent perception from any one of these or from the sum of them. We\nmust _actually see_ the green stretch diminishing in size.\n\nNow it is undoubtedly difficult, in some instances, to decide precisely\nwhat is perceived in this sense and what is not. But I hope I have\nsaid enough to show that I am using \"perceive\" and \"observe\" in a\nsense in which, on a given occasion, it is easy to decide that _some_\nthings certainly are perceived, and other things, as certainly, are\nnot perceived. I am using it in a sense in which we do perceive such\na complex object as a white patch moving towards a red one on a green\nfield; but I am not using it in any sense in which we could be said to\n\"perceive\" or \"observe\" that what we saw moving was a billiard-ball.\nAnd in the same way I think we can distinguish roughly between what,\non any given occasion, we perceive, as we say, \"by any one of the\nother senses,\" and what we do not perceive by it. We can say with\ncertainty that, on any given occasion, there are certain kinds of\n\"content\" which we are actually hearing, and others which we are _not_\nactually hearing; though with regard to some again it is difficult to\nsay whether we are actually hearing them or not. And similarly we can\ndistinguish with certainty in some instances, between what we are on\na given occasion, actually smelling or feeling, and what we are not\nactually smelling or feeling.\n\nBut now, besides these kinds of \"things,\" \"objects,\" or \"contents,\"\nwhich we perceive, as we say, \"by the senses,\" there is also another\nkind which we can be said to observe. Not only can I observe a red and\nblue book side by side; I can also observe myself observing them. I can\nperceive a red patch moving towards a white, and I can also perceive my\nperception of this movement. And what I wish to make as plain as I can\nis that my perception of the movement of a coloured patch can at least\nbe distinguished from that movement itself. I wish to make it plain\nthat to observe a coloured patch moving is to observe one thing; and\nto observe myself observing a coloured patch moving is another. When\nI observe my own perception of a movement, I observe something _more_\nthan when I merely observe the movement, and something very different\nfrom the movement. I may perceive a red and a blue book side by side on\na shelf; and at another time I may perceive a red ball moving towards a\nwhite. The red and blue patch, of one shape, at rest side by side, are\ndifferent from the red, of another shape, moving towards the white; and\nyet, when I say that both are \"perceived,\" I mean by \"perceived\" one\nand the same thing. And since, thus, two different things may both be\nperceived, there must also be some difference between each of them and\nwhat is meant by saying that it is perceived. Indeed, in precisely the\nsame way In which I may observe a spatial relation between a red patch\nand a blue (when I observe them \"side by side\") I do, when I observe my\nown perception of them, observe a spatial relation between it and them.\nI observe a distance between my perception and the red and blue books\nwhich I perceive, comparable in magnitude with the breadth or height\nof the blue book, just as these are comparable in magnitude with one\nanother. And when I say I observe a distance between my perception\nof a red book and that red book itself, I do not mean that I observe\na distance between my eyes, or any other part of what I call my body,\nand the red patch in question. I am talking not of my eyes, but of my\nactual perception. I observe my perception of a book to be near the\nbook and further from the table, in exactly the same sense in which I\nobserve the book to be near the shelf on which it stands, and further\nfrom the table. And just as, if the distance between a red patch and\na white is to be perceived, the red patch must be different from the\nwhite, so, if I perceive a certain distance between my perception and\nthe red patch, my perception must be different from the red patch which\nI perceive.\n\nI assume, then, that we observe, on the one hand, coloured patches of\ncertain shapes and sizes, and their spatial relations to one another,\ntogether with all the other kinds of \"contents,\" which we should\nusually be said to perceive \"through the senses.\" And, on the other\nhand, we also sometimes observe our own perceptions of such \"contents\"\nand our thoughts. And these two kinds of \"content\" are different from\none another: my perception of a red patch with gold letters on it,\nis not itself a red patch with gold letters on it; and hence, when I\nobserve my perception of this patch, I observe something different from\nthat which I observe when I merely perceive the patch. Either of these\ntwo kinds of \"content\"--either colours, moving or at rest, sounds,\nsmells, and all the rest--or, on the other hand, my perceptions of\nthese--either of these two kinds, or both, might conceivably, since\nboth are observed, give grounds for a generalisation concerning what\nexists. But, as I have said, if observations are to give any ground\nfor such a generalisation, it must be assumed that what Is observed\n_exists_ or is _real._ And since, as I have insisted, when I observe\nmy _perception_ of a red patch with gold letters on it, I observe\nsomething different from what I observed when I merely observed a red\npatch with gold letters on it, it follows that to assume the existence\nof my perception of this red and gold is _not_ the same thing as to\nassume the existence of the red and gold itself.\n\nBut what, it may be asked, do I mean by this property of \"existence\" or\n\"reality,\" which may, it would seem, belong to every content, which I\nobserve, or may again belong to none, or which may belong to some and\nnot to others? What is this property which may belong to my perception\nof a movement, and yet not belong to the movement perceived, or which\nmay again belong to the movement perceived and not to my perception of\nit, or which may again belong to both or to neither?\n\nIt is necessary, I think, to ask this question at this point, because\nthere are some philosophers who hold that, in the case of some kinds\nof \"content,\" at all events, to say that they \"exist\" is to say that\nthey are \"perceived.\" Some hold that to say \"A exists\" is to say\nneither more nor less than \"A is perceived\"--that the two expressions\nare perfect synonyms; and others again would say that by \"A exists\nor is real\" we may mean _more_ than that \"A is perceived,\" but that\nwe must at least mean this. Now, I have hitherto used the word\n\"existence\" pretty freely, and I think that, when I used it, I used\nit in its ordinary sense. I think it will generally have suggested to\nyou precisely what I meant to convey, and I think that, in some cases\nat all events, it will not even have occurred to you to doubt whether\nyou did understand what I meant by it. But, if these philosophers are\nright, then, if you _have_ understood what I meant by it, I have all\nalong been using it in a sense, which renders the end of my last\nparagraph perfect nonsense. If these philosophers are right, then, when\nI assert that what _is_ perceived may yet _not_ exist, I am really\nasserting that what _is_ perceived may yet _not_ be perceived--I am\ncontradicting myself. I am, of course, quite unaware that I am doing\nso. But these philosophers would say _either_ you are contradicting\nyourself, _or_ you are not using the word \"exists\" in its ordinary\nsense. And either of these alternatives would be fatal to my purpose.\nIf I am not using the word in its ordinary sense, then I shall not be\nunderstood by anyone; and, if I am contradicting myself, then what I\nsay will not be worth understanding.\n\nNow, with one class of these philosophers--the class to which, I\nthink, Berkeley belongs--I think I can put myself right comparatively\neasily. The philosophers I mean are those who say that it is only in\nthe case of one particular class of \"contents\" (the kind of \"content\"\nwhich Berkeley calls \"ideas\") that to say \"the 'content' A exists\"\nis to say \"A is perceived,\" and who admit that in the case of other\ncontents--myself and my perceptions and thoughts, for example--to say\nthat _these_ exist or are real, is to say of them something different\nfrom this. These philosophers admit, that is to say, that the word\n\"exists\" has two different senses: and that in only one of these senses\nis it synonymous with the words \"is perceived.\" When (they hold) I\nsay of such a content as a red patch with gold letters on it that\nit \"exists\" I _do_ mean that it is perceived; but when I say of my\n_perception_ of such a patch that _it_ exists, I do _not_ mean that\nmy perception is perceived but something different from this. Now, it\nwould be nothing strange that one and the same word should be used in\ntwo different senses; many words are used in many different senses.\nBut it would, I think, be something very strange indeed, if in the\ncase of a word which we constantly apply to all sorts of different\nobjects, we should uniformly apply it to one large class of object in\nthe one sense and the one sense only and the other large class in the\nother sense and the other sense only. Usually, in the case of such\nambiguous words, it happens that, in different contexts, we apply it\nto one and the same object in _both_ senses. We sometimes wish to\nsay of a given object that it has the one property, and sometimes we\nwish to say of the same object that it has the other property; and\nhence we apply the same word to the same object, at one time in one\nsense, and at another in the other. I think, therefore, that, even\nif there were these two different senses of the word \"existence,\" it\nwould be very unlikely that we should not commonly, in some contexts,\napply it in the sense, in which (as is alleged) it does apply to\nperceptions, to \"contents\" which are not perceptions. Indeed, I think,\nit is quite plain that we constantly do ask, with regard to what is\nnot a perception, whether _it_ exists, in precisely the same sense,\nin which we ask, with regard to a perception, whether _it_ exists. We\nask in precisely the same sense: Was the Roc a real bird, or merely an\nimaginary one? and, did Sindbad's perception of the Roc really exist,\nor is it a fiction that he perceived a Roc? I think, therefore, that\nthe sense in which these philosophers admit that we do apply the word\n\"existence\" to perceptions, is one in which we also commonly apply it\nto \"contents\" other than perceptions. But, even if this is not the\ncase, I can set myself right with them by a simple explanation. I\nneed merely explain that the sense in which I am proposing to enquire\nwhether a red patch exists, is precisely the sense in which they admit\nthat my perception of a red patch does exist. And in this sense, it is\nplain that to suppose that a thing may exist, which is not perceived,\nor that it may _not_ exist, although it is perceived, is at least not\nself-contradictory.\n\nBut there may be other philosophers who will say that, in the case of\na perception also, to say that it exists or is real is to say that\nit is perceived--either that alone or something more as well. And to\nthese philosophers I would first point out that they are admitting\nthat the proposition \"This perception is real\" is significant. There\nis some sense or other in which we may say: \"Alexander's perception of\nan elephant was real or did exist, but Sindbad's perception of a Roc\nwas _not_ real--never did exist\": the latter proposition is, in some\nsense or other, not self-contradictory. And then I would ask of them:\nWhen they say, that to call a perception \"real\" is to assert that it\nis perceived, do they mean by this that to call it real is to assert\nthat it is _really_ perceived, or not? If they say \"No,\" then they are\nasserting that to call a perception \"real\" is merely to say that it was\nperceived in the sense in which Sindbad _did_ perceive a Roc: they are\nasserting that to call it \"real\" is not to say, in any sense, that it\nwas _really_ perceived: they are asserting that to call a perception\n\"real\" is to say that it was perceived, in some sense quite other than\nthat in which we ordinarily use the word: for we certainly commonly\nmean, when we say \"A was perceived,\" that a perception of A was \"real\":\nwe should commonly say that Sindbad did _not_ perceive a Roc--meaning\nthat no such perception ever did exist. I do not think they do mean\nthis; and, in any case, if they do, I think it is plain that they\nare wrong. When we say that a perception is \"real,\" we certainly do\nnot mean merely that it is the object of another perception, which\nmay itself be quite unreal--purely Imaginary. I assume, therefore,\nthat when they say: To call a perception \"real\" is to say that it is\nperceived; they mean, what we should naturally understand, namely,\nthat: To call it \"real\" is to say that it is _really_ perceived--to say\nthat it is the object of another perception, which is also _real_ in\nthe same sense. And, if they mean this, then what they say is certainly\nuntrue. Their definition of reality is circular. It cannot be the case\nthat the _only_ sense in which a perception may be said to be real, is\none in which to call it so is to assert that not it alone, but another\nperception is real also. It cannot be the case that the assertion \"A is\nreal\" is _identical_ with the assertion \"A and B are both real,\" where\nA and B are different, and \"real\" is used in the same sense as applied\nto both. If it is to be true that the assertion \"A is real\" _ever_, in\nany sense, includes the assertion \"A is _really_ perceived,\" there must\nbe another sense of the word \"real,\" in which to assert \"A is real\" is\nto assert _less_ than \"A is _really_ perceived\"--the sense, namely, in\nwhich we here assert that the _perception_ of A is real.\n\nWe find, therefore, that the other class of philosophers were at least\nright in this: they were right in allowing that the sense in which\nwe commonly say that our perceptions exist is one in which \"exist\"\ndoes not include, even as a part of its meaning, \"is perceived.\" We\nfind that there is a common sense of the word \"existence,\" in which\nto say \"A exists\" must mean _less_ than \"A is _really_ perceived\":\nsince, otherwise, the only possible definition of the word \"existence\"\nwould be a circular definition. And I may point out that two other\ndefinitions, which have been sometimes suggested by philosophers as\ngiving what we commonly mean by \"reality\" or \"existence\" are vitiated\nby the same fault--they also are circular. Some philosophers have\nsometimes suggested that when we call a thing \"real,\" we mean that it\nis \"systematically connected\" in some way with other things. But,\nwhen we look into their meaning, we find that what they mean is (what,\nindeed, is alone plausible)--systematically connected with other\n_real_ things. And it may possibly be the case that we sometimes use\nthe word \"real\" in this sense: but, at least, it must be certainly\nthe case, that, if we do, we _also_ use it in another and simpler\nsense--the sense in which it is employed in the proposed definition.\nAnd other philosophers have suggested that what we mean by \"real\"\nis--\"connected in some way with a purpose--helping or hindering,\nor the object of a purpose.\" But if we look into their meaning, we\nfind they mean--connected with a _real_ purpose. And hence, even if\nwe do sometimes mean by \"real,\" \"connected with a _real_ purpose,\"\nit is plain we also sometimes mean by \"real\" something simpler than\nthis--that namely, which is meant by \"real\" in the proposed definition.\n\nIt is certain, therefore, that we do commonly use the word \"existence\"\nin a sense, in which to say \"A exists\" is _not_ to say \"A is\nperceived,\" or \"A is systematically connected with other real things,\"\nor \"A is purposive.\" There is a simpler sense than any of these--the\nsense in which we say that our own perceptions do exist, and that\nSindbad's perceptions did not exist. But when I say this, I am by no\nmeans denying that what exists, in this simple sense, may not always\n_also_ exist in all the others; and that what exists in any of them\nmay not _also_ always exist in this. It is quite possible that what\nexists is always _also_ perceived, and that what is perceived always\n_also_ exists. All that I am saying is that, even if this is so, this\nproposition is significant--is not merely a proposition about the\nmeaning of a word. It is not self-contradictory to suppose that some\nthings which exist are not perceived, and that some things which are\nperceived do not exist.\n\nBut, it may be asked: What is this common simple sense of the word\n\"exists\"? For my own part, it seems to me to be so simple that it\ncannot be expressed in other words, except those which are recognised\nas its synonyms. I think we are all perfectly familiar with its\nmeaning: it is the meaning which you understood me to have throughout\nthis paper, until I began this discussion. I think we can perceive at\nonce what is meant by asserting that my perception of black marks on a\nwhite ground is \"real,\" and that no such perception as Sindbad's of a\nRoc was ever \"real\": we are perfectly familiar with the property which\nthe one perception is affirmed to possess, and the other to be without.\nAnd I think, as I have said, that this property is a simple one. But,\nwhatever it is, this, which we ordinarily mean, is what I mean by\n\"existence\" or \"reality.\" And this property, we have seen, is certainly\nneither identical with nor inclusive of that complex one which we mean\nby the words \"is perceived.\"\n\nI may now, then, at last approach the main question of my paper.\nWhich among the \"contents\" which I observe will give me reason to\nsuppose that my observation of some of them is generally preceded\nor accompanied or followed by the existence of certain particular\nperceptions, thoughts or feelings in another person? I have explained\nthat the \"contents\" which I actually observe may be divided into two\nclasses: on the one hand, those which, as we commonly say, we perceive\n\"through the senses\"; and, on the other hand, my perceptions of these\nlast, my thoughts, and my feelings. I have explained that if any\nof these observed contents are to give reason for a generalisation\nabout what exists, _they_ must exist. And I have explained that with\nregard to both classes of \"contents\" I am using the word \"exist\" in\nprecisely the same sense--a sense, in which it is certainly not\nself-contradictory to suppose that what _is_ perceived, does not exist,\nand that what is _not_ perceived, does exist; and, in which, therefore,\nthe assumption that a red patch with gold letters on it exists, is a\n_different_ assumption from the assumption that my _perception_ of\na red patch with gold letters on it exists; and the assumption that\nmy _perception_ of a red patch with gold letters on it exists, is a\n_different_ assumption from the assumption that a red patch with gold\nletters on it exists.\n\nWhat, then, that we observe, can give us any reason for believing that\nanyone else has certain particular perceptions, thoughts or feelings?\nIt has, I think, been very commonly assumed that the observation of\nmy own perceptions, thoughts, and feelings, can, by itself, give me\nsuch a reason. And I propose, therefore, to examine this assumption.\nIf, as I hope to show, it is false; it will then follow, that if our\nown observation gives us any reason whatever, for believing in the\nexistence of other persons, we must assume the existence, not only\nof our own perceptions, thoughts and feelings, but also of some, at\nleast, among that other class of data, which I may now, for the sake of\nbrevity, call \"sense-contents\"; we must assume that some of them exist,\nin precisely the same sense in which we assume that our perceptions,\nthoughts, and feelings exist.\n\nThe theory which I propose to examine is, then, the following. My\nobservation of my own thoughts, feelings, and perceptions may, it\nasserts, give me some reason to suppose that another person has\nthoughts, feelings, and perceptions similar to some of mine. Let us\nassume, accordingly, that my own thoughts, feelings, and perceptions\ndo exist; but that none of the \"sense-contents,\" which I also observe,\ndo so. Where among my perceptions am I to look for any which might\nconceivably give me a reason for supposing the existence of other\nperceptions similar to my own? It is obvious where I must look. I have\nperceptions which I call perceptions of other people's bodies; and\nthese are certainly similar in many respects to other perceptions of\nmy own body. But I also observe that certain kinds of perceptions of\nmy own body are preceded by certain other perceptions, thoughts, or\nfeelings of mine. I may, for instance, observe that when I perceive\nmy hand suddenly catch hold of my foot in a particular way, this\nperception was preceded by a particular kind of feeling of pain. I\nmay, perhaps, observe this often enough to justify the generalisation\nthat the perception of that particular motion of my body is generally\npreceded by that particular feeling of pain. And in this way I may\nperhaps have reason for quite a number of generalisations which assert\nthat particular kinds of perceptions of my own body are generally\npreceded by other particular kinds of perceptions, thoughts, or\nfeelings of my own.\n\nBut I may also, no doubt, have the perception, which I call the\nperception of another person's hand catching hold of his foot, in a\nmanner similar to that in which I have perceived my own hand catch\nhold of my own foot. And my perception of another person's hand\ncatching hold of his foot may undoubtedly be similar in many respects\nto my perception of my own hand catching hold of my own foot. But\nI shall not observe the same kind of feeling of pain preceding my\nperception of _his_ hand catching hold of his foot, which I have\nobserved preceding my perception of _my_ hand catching hold of my\nfoot. Will my generalisation, then, give me any reason to suppose\nthat nevertheless my perception of his hand catching hold of his foot\n_is_ preceded by a similar feeling of pain, not in me but in him?\nWe undoubtedly do assume that when I perceive another person's body\nmaking movements similar to those which I have observed my own body\nmaking, this perception has generally been preceded by some feeling or\nperception of his similar to that which I have observed to precede my\nperception of similar movements in my own body. We do assume this; and\nit is precisely the kind of generalisation, which, I have insisted,\nmust be admitted to be true. But my present question is: Will such\nobservations as I have described give any reason for thinking any\nsuch generalisation true? I think it is plain that they will not give\nthe slightest reason for thinking so. In the first place, all the\nperceptions which I call perceptions of another person's body differ\nvery considerably from any of those which I call perceptions of my\nown. But I am willing to waive this objection. I am not offering any\ntheory as to what degree of likeness is _sufficient_ to justify a\ngeneralisation: and therefore I will allow that the degree of likeness\n_may_ be sufficient. But there remains an objection which is, I think,\nquite fatal to the proposed inference. This objection is that the\ninference in question plainly does not satisfy the third condition\nwhich I suggested above as _necessary_, wherever any generalisation\nis to be justified by observation. I am willing to allow that my\nobservations of the fact that my perception of a certain movement in\nmy own body is preceded by a certain feeling of pain, _will_ justify\nthe generalisation that my perception of any such movement, whether in\nmy own body _or_ in that of another person, is generally preceded by a\nsimilar feeling of pain. And I allow, therefore, that when I perceive a\ncertain movement in another's body, it _is_ probable that the feeling\nof pain exists, though I do not perceive it. But, if it _is_ probable\nthat such a feeling of pain exists, such a feeling must stand _in the\nsame relation_ to my perception of the movement in another person's\nbody, in which a similar feeling of pain has been observed by me to\nstand to my perception of such a movement in my own body. That is to\nsay the only kind of feeling of pain, which my observations do justify\nme in inferring, if (as I admit they may) they justify me in inferring\nany at all, is a feeling of pain of _my own._ They cannot possibly\njustify the belief in the existence of any such feeling _except_ one\nwhich stands to my perception in the same relation in which my feelings\ndo stand to _my_ perceptions--one, that is to say, which is my own. I\nhave no more reason to believe that the feeling of pain which probably\nprecedes my perception of a movement in another person's body can be\nthe feeling _of another person_, than, in my former example, I had\nreason to suppose that the hen, whose existence probably preceded that\nof a given egg, could be a hen, which had never been near the egg in\nquestion. The two cases are exactly analogous. I observe a feeling of\npain _of my own_ preceding a perception _of my own._ I observe the\ntwo, that is to say, as standing to one another, in those relations\n(whatever they may be) in which any perception of mine stands to any\nother thought, perception or feeling of mine, and which are, at all\nevents, different from any relation in which a perception or feeling of\nanother person can stand to one of mine. I never perceive the feeling\nand the perception as standing in any other relation. In any case,\ntherefore, where I do observe something like the perception, but do\nnot observe the feeling, I can only be justified (_if_ justified in\ninferring any feeling at all), in inferring an unperceived feeling _of\nmy own._\n\nFor this reason I think that no observations of my own perceptions,\nfeelings or thoughts can give me the slightest reason for supposing a\nconnection between any of them and any feeling, perception, or thought\nin another person. The argument is perfectly general, since _all_\nmy perceptions, feelings and thoughts do have to one another those\nrelations in virtue of which I call them mine; and which, when I talk\nof a perception, feeling or thought as being _another persons_, I mean\nto say that it has _not_ got to any of mine. I can, therefore, merely\nfrom observation of _this_ class of data never obtain the slightest\nreason for belief in the existence of a feeling, perception, or thought\nwhich does _not_ stand in these relations to one of mine--which _is,_\nthat is to say, the feeling, perception or thought, of another person.\nBut how different is the case, if we adopt the hypothesis, which I wish\nto recommend--if we assume the existence of that other class of data\nwhich I have called \"sense-contents!\" On this hypothesis, that which I\nperceive, when I perceive a movement of my own body, is _real_; that\nwhich I perceive when I perceive a movement of another's body is _real_\nalso. I can now observe not merely the relation between my _perception_\nof a movement of my body and my own feelings, but also a relation\nbetween a _real_ movement of my body and my own feelings. And there\nis no reason why I should not be justified in inferring that another\nperson's feelings stand _in the same relation_ to the real movements of\nhis body, in which I observe my own feelings to stand to similar real\nmovements of mine.\n\nBut there is another argument which may still be urged by those who\nhold that my own perceptions, thoughts, and feelings, by themselves,\nmay be sufficient to justify a belief in the existence of other\npersons. It may be said: \"Our observation of our own perceptions may be\nsufficient to _verify_ or _confirm_ the hypothesis that other persons\nexist. This hypothesis is one which \"works.\" The assumption that other\npersons have particular thoughts, feelings and perceptions enables us\nto predict that they will have others and that our own perceptions will\nbe modified accordingly: it enables us to predict future perceptions of\nour own; and we find that these predictions are constantly verified.\nWe observe that we do have the perceptions, which the hypothesis leads\nus to expect we should have. In short, our perceptions occur just as\nthey would do, _if_ the hypothesis were true; our perceptions behave\n_as if_ other persons had the perceptions, thoughts and feelings which\nwe suppose them to have. Surely, then, they confirm the truth of the\nhypothesis--they give some reason to think it probably true?\"\n\nAll this, which I have supposed an opponent to urge, I admit to be\ntrue. I admit that the fact that an hypothesis works may give some\nreason to suppose it true. I admit that my perceptions occur just as\nthey would do, if other people had the perceptions which I suppose them\nto have. I admit that that assumption enables me to make predictions as\nto future perceptions of my own, and that I observe these predictions\nto come true. I admit all this. But I admit it only in a sense in\nwhich it in no way conflicts with the position which I am maintaining.\nThe words, which I have put into the mouth of a supposed opponent,\nmay, in fact, mean three different things, which it is worth while to\ndistinguish. In two of those meanings, which I shall admit to be true\nand which are what make them seem plausible, they do not deny what I\nassert. Only in the third sense are they an objection to my position:\nand in that sense they are false.\n\nOne of the meanings which I admit to be true is as follows:--I have not\nonly admitted but insisted that some of my perceptions are just such\nas would occur if another person had certain particular feelings: I\nhave insisted that I should not have just those perceptions which I do\nhave, unless some other person had certain feelings and perceptions\nwhich I suppose him to have. And I admit further that the fact that I\nhave one of the perceptions in question--for instance, that of another\nperson's hand catching hold of his foot--this fact, _together with_\nthe true assumption that I should not have this perception, unless\nsome other person felt pain, will justify the assertion that another\nperson has felt pain. In this sense, I admit, the fact that I perceive\nwhat I do perceive will give me reason to suppose that another person\nhas felt pain. And, on the other hand, I also admit that the fact\nthat I have this perception, _together with_ the true assumption that\nwhen I have it another person has felt pain, may help to justify the\nassumption that the perception in question is one which I should not\nhave had unless another person had felt pain--it helps to justify the\ngeneralisation that certain of my perceptions are just what would\noccur, _if_ another person had felt pain. In general terms, that is to\nsay, I admit that the occurrence of B, _together with_ the assumption\nthat B is just the sort of thing which would occur if A existed, will\njustify the assertion that A exists in that particular instance. And\nI also admit that the occurrence of B, _together with_ the assumption\nthat A exists in that particular instance, may help to justify the\nassumption that B is just the sort of thing which would exist, if A\nexisted. In other words: When it is said that the observation of B's\nexistence confirms or verifies the assumption that A exists, either of\ntwo things may be meant. It may be meant that, assuming B to be the\nsort of thing which would exist if A existed, the observation of B\nconfirms the assumption that A exists _in this particular instance._\nOr, on the other hand, it may be meant that, assuming A to exist\nin this particular instance, the observation of B may confirm the\ngeneralisation, that B is just the sort of thing which would exist,\nif A existed. _Either_ the one _or_ the other of these two things is,\nI think, what is generally assumed, when it is assumed that what we\ndo observe confirms or verifies the assumption that there exists some\nparticular thing which we don't observe. And I am admitting that both\nthese assumptions are true.\n\nBut neither of them conflicts in any way with the position I am\nmaintaining. What I am maintaining is that no observation of my own\nperceptions, _by itself,_ can confirm the generalisation that any one\nof them _is_ just what would occur if another person had a particular\nfeeling. I admit this generalisation to be true; and I admit that my\nobservation of my own perceptions and feelings may give me _reason_ to\nsuppose that _if_ another person has certain perceptions or feelings\n_he_ will also have certain others. What I deny is that they give\nme the slightest reason to suppose that the existence of any such\nfeeling or perception in another has any connection with the existence\nof any perception _of my own_--to suppose that any perception of my\nown is the sort of thing which would occur _if_ another person had a\nparticular feeling. What therefore, my opponent must affirm is that the\nobservation of a perception of my own _without_ the assumption (which\nReid makes) that in that particular instance any feeling or perception\nof another person, of any kind whatever, has preceded it, may give me\nreason to suppose that that perception of my own is of a kind which is\ngenerally preceded by a particular kind of feeling in another person.\nAnd this, I think, is plainly false.\n\nBut there is yet a third thing which may be meant, and which I\nam willing to admit may be true. It may be said: \"I believe many\ngeneralisations of the following kind. I believe that when I have\na perception A, some other person has generally had a feeling X; I\nbelieve that the existence of the feeling X is generally followed, in\nthe same person, by that of the feeling Y; and I believe also that\nwhen another person has the feeling Y, I generally have the perception\nB. I believe all this.\" And it must, I think, be admitted that we do\nbelieve generalisations of this kind, and generalisations in which\nthere are not merely two steps between A and B, but a great number of\nsteps. \"But then,\" it may be said, \"my belief in this generalisation\ncauses me, when I observe my perception A, to expect that I shall have\nthe perception B; and such expectations, I observe, are constantly\nrealised.\" And this also, I think, must be admitted to be true. \"But,\nfinally,\" it may be said, \"beliefs which produce expectations which\nare constantly realised are generally true. And hence the fact that\nthese beliefs of mine about the connection of feelings in other persons\nwith perceptions of my own do lead to expectations which are realised,\ngives me reason to suppose that these generalisations are true and\nhence that other persons do have particular kinds of feelings.\"\nAnd I am willing to admit that this also is true. I am willing to\nadmit that true predictions can, as a rule, only be produced by true\nbeliefs. The generalisation that this is so, is, indeed, one which\ncan only be justified by the observations of beliefs, which are, in\nsome way, independently proved to be true; and hence, if it is to be\njustified, without assuming the existence of anything other than my\nown perceptions, thoughts, and feelings, it can only be justified by\nmy observation that beliefs with regard to the manner in which _these_\nsucceed one another generally lead to true predictions. Whether the\nobservation of such beliefs _alone_ could give sufficient reason for\nit, is, I think, doubtful; but I am willing to admit that it may be\nso. One thing, however, is, I think, quite plain: namely, that this\ngeneralisation \"Beliefs which lead to true predictions are generally\ntrue\" cannot be true, _unless_ some other of the \"contents\" which I\nobserve, beside my own perceptions, thoughts, and feelings, do exist.\nThat is to say, in giving a reason for supposing the existence of\nother people, this generalisation also gives a reason for the very\ntheory which I am advocating, namely, that some of those data which\nI have called \"sense-contents\" do exist. It does this, because it is\nquite certain that beliefs in generalisations about the existence of\nsense-contents _can_ (and do) constantly lead to true predictions. The\nbelief that when I have observed a fire of a certain size in my grate,\nsomething similar to what I have observed will continue to exist for\na certain time, can, and constantly does, lead to the true prediction\nthat, when I come back to my room in half an hour's time, I shall\nobserve a fire of a certain size still burning. We make predictions\non such grounds, I think, every day and all day long. And hence\nunless such beliefs as that what I observe when I see a fire burning\n_does_ exist, _are_ true, we certainly have no reason to suppose that\nbeliefs which lead to true predictions are generally true. And hence\non this hypothesis also it remains true: that, unless some of the\ncontents which I observe _other_ than my own perceptions, thoughts, and\nfeelings, do exist, I cannot have the slightest reason for supposing\nthat the existence of certain perceptions of my own is generally\nconnected with that of certain perceptions, thoughts, or feelings in\nany other person.\n\nI conclude therefore that, unless some of the observed data which I\nhave called sense-contents _do_ exist, my own observations cannot give\nme the slightest reason for believing that anybody else has ever had\nany particular perception, thought, or feeling. And, having arrived\nso far towards an answer to my first question: How do we know that\nany other persons exist? I may now point out that precisely the same\nanswer must be given to my second question: How do we know that _any_\nparticular kind of thing exists, other than ourselves, our perceptions,\nthoughts, and feelings, and what we directly perceive? There is a view\nconcerning what exists, which deserves, I think, much more respect than\nit generally receives from philosophers nowadays. The view I mean is\nthe view that material objects, such as they are conceived by physical\nscience, do really exist. It is held by some persons (and Reid is among\nthem) that we _do_ know of the existence, not only of other persons,\nbut also of the movements of matter in space. It is held that we do\nknow, with considerable precision, what kinds of movements of matter\ngenerally precede my perception, when I have a particular perception.\nIt is held, for instance, that when I perceive a red and blue book side\nby side on a shelf, at a certain distance from me, there have existed,\nbetween two material objects, which may be called books, and another\nkind of material object, which may be called my eyes, certain wave-like\nmotions of a material medium; that there have existed two different\nsets of waves, of which the one is connected with my perception of red\nand the other with my perception of blue; and that the relative heights\nand breadths of the two different sets of waves, and the relative\nvelocity of their movements are very exactly known. It is held that\nsome men have a vast amount of very precise information about the\nexistence of objects of this kind; and I think the view that this is\nso deserves a great deal of respect. But what I wish now to point out\nis that no one's observation of his own perceptions, thoughts and\nfeelings, can, by itself, give him the slightest reason for believing\nin the existence of any such material objects. All the arguments by\nwhich I have tried to show that this kind of observation alone can give\nme no reason to believe in the existence of any kind of perception\nor feeling in another person, apply, with at least equal force, to\nshow that it can give me no reason to believe in the existence of any\nkind of material object. On the other hand, if we are to admit the\nprinciple that \"Beliefs which lead to true predictions, are generally\ntrue,\" this principle will give us at least as much reason to believe\nin the existence of certain kinds of material objects as to believe\nin the existence of other persons; since one of the most remarkable\nfacts about beliefs in the existence of such objects is that they do so\noften lead to true predictions. But it must be remembered that we can\nhave no reason for believing this principle itself, _unless_ our own\nperceptions, thoughts and feelings are _not_ the only kind of observed\n\"content\" which really does exist: we can have no reason for it, unless\nsome such things as what I perceive, when I see a red and blue book\nside by side, do really exist.\n\nIt would seem, therefore, that if my own observations do give me any\nreason whatever for believing in the existence either of any perception\nin any other person or of any material object, it must be true that\nnot only my own perceptions, thoughts and feelings, but also _some_ of\nthe other kinds of things which I directly perceive--colours, sounds,\nsmells, etc.--do really exist: it must be true that some objects of\nthis kind _exist_ or are _real_ in precisely the same simple sense\nin which my perceptions of them exist or are real. Is there then any\nreason to think that this is not true? Is there any reason to think,\nfor instance, that _none_ of the colours which I perceive as occupying\nareas of certain shapes and sizes really exist in the areas which\nthey appear to occupy? This is a question which I wished to discuss\nat length, because I think that it is one in which there are real\ndifficulties. But I have given so much space to other questions, that I\ncan only deal with it very briefly here.\n\nSome philosophers are very fond of asserting that a colour cannot exist\nexcept when it is perceived; and it might possibly be thought that\nwhen I suggest that colours do really exist, I am suggesting that they\ndo exist when they are not perceived. I wish, therefore, briefly to\npoint out that the question whether anything does exist, when it is\nnot perceived, is one which I have not argued and shall not attempt\nto argue in this paper. I have, indeed, tried to show that since\n\"exists\" does not _mean_ \"is perceived,\" it is, at least, conceivable\nthat things should exist, when they are not perceived. But I have\nadmitted that it is quite possible none _do_ so: it _may_ be the case\nthat whenever a thing exists, it is _also_ at the same time perceived,\nfor anything that I have said or shall say to the contrary. I think,\nindeed, that, if such things as colours _do_ exist, my observation of\ntheir behaviour will justify me in concluding that they also exist when\nI myself am, at least, not aware of perceiving them: but since I have\nnot attempted to determine what kinds of observation are sufficient to\njustify a generalisation, I do not pretend to say whether this is so\nor not: and still less do I pretend to say whether, _if_ they exist\nwhen _I_ do not perceive them, we are justified in supposing that\nsomeone else must be perceiving them. The question whether anything\nexists, when it is not perceived, and, if so, what things, seems to\nme to be one which can only be settled by observation; and thus, I\nconceive, observation might justify us in concluding that certain kinds\nof things--pains, for example, do _not_ exist, when they are not\nperceived and that other kinds of things--colours, for example, _do_\nexist, when they are not perceived. The only way, in which, so far as\nI am aware, the theory I am advocating does conflict with ordinary\nIdealistic conclusions, is that it does suggest that things, which are\n_not_ \"spiritual,\" do _sometimes_ exist, as really and as truly, as\nthings which are.\n\nThe theory, therefore, that nothing exists, except when it is\nperceived, is no objection (even if it be true) to the supposition that\ncolours do exist. What objections are there to this supposition? All\nserious objections to it are, I think, of one type. They all rest upon\nthe assumption that, if a certain kind of thing exists at a certain\ntime in a certain place, certain other kinds of things cannot exist at\nthe same time in the same place. They are all, that is to say, of the\nsame type as Berkeley's argument: that, though the same body of water\nmay _appear_ to be simultaneously both hot and cold (if one of the\nhands we plunge into it is warm and the other cold), yet the heat and\nthe cold cannot both _really_ be in the same body at the same time. And\nit is worth noticing that anyone who uses this argument must admit that\nhe understands what is meant by \"really existing in a given place,\" and\nthat he means by it something _other_ than \"being perceived as in a\ngiven place.\" For the argument itself admits that _both_ the heat _and_\nthe cold _are_ really _perceived_ as being in the same place, and that\nthere is no difficulty in supposing that they are so; whereas It urges\nthat there _is_ a difficulty in supposing that they both _really exist_\nin it.\n\nNow there is one obvious defect in this type of argument, if designed\nto prove that _no_ sensible quality exists at any place where it\nis perceived as being--a defect, which Berkeley himself admits in\nhis \"Principles,\" though he omits to notice it where he repeats the\nargument in his \"Hylas.\" Even if we assume that the heat and the\ncold cannot _both_ exist in the same place (and I admit that, in this\ncase, the contrary assumption does seem repugnant to Common Sense),\nit does not follow that _neither_ exists there. That is to say this\ntype of argument, even if we grant its initial assumption, will only\nentitle us to conclude that _some_ sensible qualities which we perceive\nas being in a certain place at a certain time, do not exist in that\nplace at that time. And this conclusion, I am inclined to think, is\ntrue. In the case, for instance, of the so-called \"images\" which\nwe perceive in a looking-glass, we may very readily admit that the\ncolours and shapes which we perceive do _not_ exist at the places where\nthey appear to be--namely at various distances behind the glass. But\nyet, so far as I can see, we have no reason whatever for supposing\nthat they do not, _except_ the assumption that our observations give\nus reason to believe that _other_ sensible qualities _do_ exist in\nthose positions behind the glass; and the assumption that _where_\nthese _other_ sensible qualities do exist, those which we see in the\nglass do _not_ exist. I should, therefore, admit that _some_ sensible\nqualities which we perceive as being in certain places, do _not_ exist\nin those places, while still retaining my belief that others do. And\n_perhaps_ this explanation is the one which should also be adopted in\nthe case of sensible qualities which appear to be at a great distance\nfrom us. When, for instance, (as we say), \"we see the moon,\" _what_\nwe perceive (if the moon be full) is a round bright silver disc, of\na small size, at a place very distant from us. Does that silver disc\nexist at that place? With what suppositions does the assumption that\nit _does_ conflict? Only, so far as I can see, with the supposition\nthat the place in question is _really_ occupied by a body such as\nscience has taught us to suppose that the moon _really_ is--a spherical\nbody immensely larger than objects, in comparison with which the\nsilver disc which we perceive is small; _or else_ with the supposition\nthat the place in question is really occupied by some part of our\natmosphere, or some part of the medium which science supposes to exist\nbetween our atmosphere and the moon; _or else_ with the supposition\nthat the place in question is really occupied by what we might see,\nif the moon were nearer to us by many thousands of miles. Unless we\nsuppose that some other object _is_ in the place, in which the silver\ndisc appears to be, and that this object is of a kind which cannot\noccupy the _same_ place which is occupied by a silver disc, we have\nno reason to suppose that the silver disc does _not_ really exist in\nthe place where it appears to be. And, in this case, we _perhaps_ have\nreason for both suppositions and should therefore conclude that the\nsilver disc, which we perceive, does not exist in any real place.\n\nPart, therefore, of these objections to our theory may, I think, be\nmet by admitting that _some_ of the ... sensible qualities which we\nperceive do not exist at the places where they appear to exist, though\nethers do. But there is, I think, another class of cases, in which we\nmay be justified in denying that two things which (it is asserted)\ncannot occupy the same space, really cannot. I will take an instance\nwhich is, I think, typical. When we look at a drop of blood with the\nnaked eye, we perceive a small red spot, uniformly red all over. But\nwhen (as we say) we look at the _same_ object under a microscope of\na certain power, I am informed that we see a much larger spot, of\nsimilar shape, indeed, but _not_ uniformly red--having, in fact, small\nred spots at different positions in a yellowish field. And if we were\nagain to look at the _same_ object through a microscope of much higher\npower still, we might perceive yet a third different arrangement of\ncolours. Is there any fatal objection to supposing that all _three_\nappearances--the uniform red spot, the yellowish field with reddish\nspots in it, and the third, whatever that may be--do all really occupy\nthe same real spatial area? I cannot see that there is. We are familiar\nwith the idea that a given spatial area may contain parts which are\ninvisible to us. And hence, I think it is quite conceivable that parts\nof a given area may be _really_ occupied by one colour, while the whole\nis _really_ occupied by another. And this, I think, is what we actually\n_do_ believe in many cases. At all events, we certainly believe that\nthe area which appears to be occupied by one colour really is _the same\narea_ as that which appears to be occupied by another. And, unless\nwe assume that the area, in both cases, really is the same, we can\ncertainly have no reason to deny that each colour does really occupy\nthe area which it appears to occupy.\n\nFor these reasons I think that the difficulties in the way of supposing\nthat _some_ of the sensible qualities which we perceive as being in\ncertain places, really exist in the places in which we perceive them\nto be, are not insuperable. I have indeed not done justice to these\ndifficulties; but then, neither have I done justice to what is to be\nsaid on the other side. At all events, I think it is plain that we have\nno reason to assert, in any case whatever, that a perceived colour\ndoes _not_ really exist in the place where it is perceived as being,\n_unless_ we assume that that very same place really is occupied by\nsomething else_--either_ by some different sensible qualities _or_ by\nmaterial objects such as physical science supposes to exist. But what\nreason can we give for such an assumption? I have tried to show that\nour own observations can give us none, _unless_ we assume that some of\nthe sensible qualities, which we observe as occupying certain places,\ndo really exist in those places. And, if this is so, then we must\nadmit that neither he who believes (with Reid) in the existence of\nother minds and of matter also, nor he who believes in the existence\nof other minds and denies that of matter, can have, in his own\nobservations, the slightest reason either for his assertion or for his\ndenial: we must admit that he can have no reason for either assertion\nor denial, except one which consists in the assumption of the existence\nor nonexistence of something which he does _not_ observe--something,\ntherefore, of the very same kind as that for which he gives it as a\nreason. I am very unwilling to suppose that this is the case: I am\nvery unwilling to suppose that he who believes that Sindbad the Sailor\nreally saw what the \"Arabian Nights\" represent him as seeing, has just\nas good reason (so far as his own observation goes) for believing this\nas he who denies it has for denying it. Still this may be the case.\nWe _must_, perhaps, be content to assume as certain that for which\nour observation gives no reason: to assume such propositions as that\nSindbad did _not_ see a Roc, and that you _do_ hear my voice. But if it\nis said that these things are certain; then it also appears to me to\nbe certain that the colours which I perceive do exist (_some_ of them)\nwhere I perceive them. The more I look at objects round me, the more I\nam unable to resist the conviction that what I see does exist, as truly\nand as really, as my perception of it The conviction is overwhelming.\n\nThis being, then, the state of the case, I think I may at least plead\nthat we have grounds for suspense of judgment as to whether what I\nsee does _not_ really exist; grounds, too, for renewed enquiry, more\ncareful than such enquiry has sometimes been in the past.\n\n\n[1] Not now in 1921.\n\n\n\n\nWILLIAM JAMES\n\n\nMy object in this paper is to discuss some of the things which Prof.\nWilliam James says about truth in the recent book, to which he has\ngiven the above name.[1] In Lecture VI he professes to give an account\nof a theory, which he calls \"the pragmatist theory of truth;\" and he\nprofesses to give a briefer preliminary account of the same theory in\nLecture II. Moreover, in Lecture VII, he goes on to make some further\nremarks about truth. In all these Lectures he seems to me to make\nstatements to which there are very obvious objections; and my main\nobject is to point out, as clearly and simply as I can, what seem to me\nto be the principal objections to some of these statements.\n\nWe may, I think, distinguish three different things which he seems\nparticularly anxious to assert about truth.\n\n(I) In the first place, he is plainly anxious to assert some connection\nbetween truth and \"verification\" or \"utility.\" Our true ideas, he seems\nto say, are those that \"work,\" in the sense that they are or can be\n\"verified,\" or are \"useful.\"\n\n(II) In the second place, he seems to object to the view that truth is\nsomething \"static\" or \"immutable.\" He is anxious to assert that truths\nare in some sense \"mutable.\"\n\n(III) In the third place, he asserts that \"to an unascertainable\nextent our truths are man-made products\" (p. 242).\n\nTo what he asserts under each of these three heads there are, I think,\nserious objections; and I now propose to point out what seem to me to\nbe the principal ones, under each head separately.\n\n\n(I)\n\nProfessor James is plainly anxious to assert _some_ connection between\ntruth and \"verification\" or \"utility.\" And that there is _some_\nconnection between them everybody will admit. That _many_ of our true\nideas are verified; that _many_ of them can be verified; and that\n_many_ of them are useful, is, I take it, quite indisputable. But\nProfessor James seems plainly to wish to assert something more than\nthis. And one more thing which he wishes to assert is, I think, pretty\nplain. He suggests, at the beginning of Lecture VI, that he is going to\ntell us in what sense it is that our true ideas \"agree with reality.\"\nTruth, he says, certainly _means_ their agreement with reality;\nthe only question is as to what we are to understand by the words\n\"agreement\" and \"reality\" in this proposition. And he first briefly\nconsiders the theory, that the sense in which our true ideas agree with\nreality, is that they \"copy\" some reality. And he affirms that some\nof our true ideas really do do this. But he rejects the theory, as a\ntheory of what truth means, on the ground that they do not _all_ do so.\nPlainly, therefore, he implies that no theory of what truth _means_\nwill be correct, unless it tells us of some property which belongs to\n_all_ our true ideas without exception. But his own theory is a theory\nof what truth means. Apparently, therefore, he wishes to assert that\nnot only many but _all_ our true ideas are or can be verified; that\n_all_ of them are useful. And it is, I think, pretty plain that this is\n_one_ of the things which he wishes to assert.\n\nApparently, therefore, Professor James wishes to assert that _all_\nour true ideas are or can be verified--that _all_ are useful. And\ncertainly this is not a truism like the proposition that _many_ of\nthem are so. Even if this were all that he meant, it would be worth\ndiscussing. But even this, I think, is not all. The very first\nproposition in which he expresses his theory is the following. \"True\nideas,\" he says (p. 201) \"are those that we can assimilate, validate,\ncorroborate and verify. False ideas are those that we cannot.\" And\nwhat does this mean? Let us, for brevity's sake, substitute the word\n\"verify\" alone for the four words which Professor James uses, as he\nhimself subsequently seems to do. He asserts, then, that true ideas\nare _those which_ we can verify. And plainly he does not mean by this\nmerely that _some_ of the ideas which we can verify are true, while\nplenty of others, which we can verify, are not true. The plain meaning\nof his words is that _all_ the ideas which we can verify are true.\nNo one would use them who did not mean this. Apparently, therefore,\nProfessor James means to assert not merely that we can verify all our\ntrue ideas; but also that all the ideas, which we can verify, are true.\nAnd so, too, with utility or usefulness. He seems to mean not merely\nthat all our true ideas are useful; but that all those which are useful\nare true. This would follow, for one thing, from the fact that he seems\nto use the words \"verification\" or \"verifiability\" and \"usefulness\" as\nif they came to the same thing. But, in this case too, he asserts it\nin words that have but one plain meaning. \"The true\" he says (p. 222)\n\"is only the expedient in the way of our thinking.\" \"The true\" is _the_\nexpedient: that is, _all_ expedient thinking is true. Or again: \"An\nidea is 'true' so long as to believe it is profitable to our lives\" (p.\n75). That is to say, _every_ idea, which is profitable to our lives,\nis, while it is so, true. These words certainly have a plain enough\nmeaning. Apparently, therefore, Professor James means to assert not\nmerely that all true ideas are useful, but also that all useful ideas\nare true.\n\nProfessor James' words, then, do at least suggest that he wishes to\nassert all four of the following propositions. He wishes to assert, it\nwould seem--\n\n(1) That we can verify all those of our ideas, which are true.\n\n(2) That all those among our ideas, which we can verify, are true.\n\n(3) That all our true ideas are useful.\n\n(4) That all those of our ideas, which are useful, are true.\n\nThese four propositions are what I propose first to consider. He\ndoes mean to assert them, at least. Very likely he wishes to assert\nsomething more even than these. He does, in fact, suggest that he means\nto assert, in addition, that these properties of \"verifiability\" and\n\"utility\" are the _only_ properties (beside that of being properly\n_called_ \"true\") which belong to all our true ideas and to none but\ntrue ideas. But this obviously cannot be true, unless all these four\npropositions are true. And therefore we may as well consider them first.\n\nFirst, then, can we verify all our true ideas?\n\nI wish only to point out the plainest and most obvious reasons why I\nthink it is doubtful whether we can.\n\nWe are very often in doubt as to whether we did or did not do a certain\nthing in the past. We may have the idea that we did, and also the idea\nthat we did not; and we may wish to find out which idea is the true\none. Very often, indeed, I may believe very strongly, that I did do a\ncertain thing; and somebody else, who has equally good reason to know,\nmay believe equally strongly that I did not. For instance, I may have\nwritten a letter, and may believe that I used certain words in it.\nBut my correspondent may believe that I did not. Can we always verify\neither of these ideas? Certainly sometimes we can. The letter may be\nproduced, and prove that I did use the words in question. And I shall\nthen have verified my idea. Or it may prove that I did not use them.\nAnd then we shall have verified my correspondent's idea. But, suppose\nthe letter has been destroyed; suppose there is no copy of it, nor any\ntrustworthy record of what was said in it; suppose there is no other\nwitness as to what I said in it, beside myself and my correspondent?\nCan we then always verify which of our ideas is the true one? I think\nit is very doubtful whether we can _nearly_ always. Certainly we may\noften try to discover any possible means of verification, and be quite\nunable, for a time at least, to discover any. Such cases, in which we\nare unable, for a time at least, to verify either of two contradictory\nideas, occur very commonly indeed. Let us take an even more trivial\ninstance than the last. Bad whist-players often do not notice at all\ncarefully which cards they have among the lower cards in a suit. At\nthe end of a hand they cannot be certain whether they had or had not\nthe seven of diamonds, or the five of spades. And, after the cards\nhave been shuffled, a dispute will sometimes arise as to whether a\nparticular player had the seven of diamonds or not. His partner may\nthink that he had, and he himself may think that he had not. Both may\nbe uncertain, and the memory of both, on such a point, may be well\nknown to be untrustworthy. And, moreover, neither of the other players\nmay be able to remember any better. Is it always possible to verify\nwhich of these ideas is the true one? Either the player did or did not\nhave the seven of diamonds. This much is certain. One person thinks\nthat he did, and another thinks he did not; and both, so soon as the\nquestion is raised, have before their minds both of these ideas--the\nidea that he did, and the idea that he did not. This also is certain.\nAnd it is certain that one or other of these two ideas is true. But can\nthey always verify either of them? Sometimes, no doubt, they can, even\nafter the cards have been shuffled. There may have been a fifth person\npresent, overlooking the play, whose memory is perfectly trustworthy,\nand whose word may be taken as settling the point. Or the players may\nthemselves be able, by recalling other incidents of play, to arrive at\nsuch a certainty as may be said to verify the one hypothesis or the\nother. But very often neither of these two things will occur. And, in\nsuch a case, is it always possible to verify the true idea? Perhaps,\ntheoretically, it may be still possible. Theoretically, I suppose, the\nfact that one player, and not any of the other three, had the card in\nhis hand, may have made some difference to the card, which _might_\nbe discovered by some possible method of scientific investigation.\nPerhaps some such difference may remain even after the same card has\nbeen repeatedly used in many subsequent games. But suppose the same\nquestion arises again, a week after the original game was played. Did\nyou, or did you not, last week have the seven of diamonds in that\nparticular hand? The question has not been settled in the meantime;\nand now, perhaps, the original pack of cards has been destroyed. Is it\nstill possible to verify either idea? Theoretically, I suppose, it may\nbe still possible. But even this, I think, is very doubtful. And surely\nit is plain that, humanly and practically speaking, it will often have\nbecome quite impossible to verify either idea. In all probability it\nnever will be possible for any man to verify whether I had the card\nor not on this particular occasion. No doubt we are here speaking of\nan idea, which some man _could have_ verified at one time. But the\nhypothesis I am considering is the hypothesis that we never have a true\nidea, which we _can_ not verify; that is to say, which we cannot verify\n_after_ the idea has occurred. And with regard to this hypothesis, it\nseems to me quite plain that _very often indeed_ we have two ideas, one\nor other of which is certainly true; and yet that, in all probability,\nit is no longer possible and never will be possible for any man to\nverify either.\n\nIt seems to me, then, that we very often have true ideas which we\ncannot verify; true ideas, which, in all probability, no man ever will\nbe able to verify. And, so far, I have given only comparatively trivial\ninstances. But it is plain that, in the same sense, historians are very\nfrequently occupied with true ideas, which it is doubtful whether they\ncan verify. One historian thinks that a certain event took place, and\nanother that it did not; and both may admit that they cannot verify\ntheir idea. Subsequent historians may, no doubt, sometimes be able to\nverify one or the other. New evidence may be discovered or men may\nlearn to make a better use of evidence already in existence. But is\nit certain that this will _always_ happen? Is it certain that _every_\nquestion, about which historians have doubted, will some day be able to\nbe settled by verification of one or the other hypothesis? Surely the\nprobability is that in the case of an immense number of events, with\nregard to which we should like to know whether they happened or not, it\nnever will be possible for any man to verify either the one hypothesis\nor the other. Yet it may be certain that either the events in question\ndid happen or did not. Here, therefore, again, we have a large number\nof ideas--cases where many men doubt whether a thing did happen or\ndid not, and have therefore the idea both of its having happened and\nof its not having happened--with regard to which it is certain that\nhalf of them are true, but where it seems highly doubtful whether\nany single one of them will ever be able to be verified. No doubt it\nis just possible that men will some day be able to verify every one\nof them. But surely it is very doubtful whether they will. And the\ntheory against which I am protesting is the positive assertion that\nwe _can_ verify all our true ideas--that some one some day certainly\nwill be able to verify every one of them. This theory, I urge, has all\nprobability against it.\n\nAnd so far I have been dealing only with ideas with regard to what\nhappened in the past. These seem to me to be the cases which offer\nthe most numerous and most certain exceptions to the rule that we can\nverify our true ideas. With regard to particular past events, either\nin their own lives or in those of other people, men very frequently\nhave ideas, which it seems highly improbable that any man will ever be\nable to verify. And yet it is certain that a great many of these ideas\nare true, because in a great many cases we have both the idea that the\nevent did happen and also the idea that it did not, when it is certain\nthat one or other of these ideas is true. And these ideas with regard\nto past events would by themselves be sufficient for my purpose. If, as\nseems certain, there are many true ideas with regard to the past, which\nit is highly improbable that anyone will ever be able to verify, then,\nobviously, there is nothing in a true idea which makes it certain that\nwe can verify it. But it is, I think, certainly not only in the case\nof ideas, with regard to the past, that it is doubtful whether we can\nverify all the true ideas we have. In the case of many generalisations\ndealing not only with the past but with the future, it is, I think,\nobviously doubtful whether we shall ever be able to verify all those\nwhich are true; although here, perhaps, in most cases, the probability\nthat we shall not is not so great. But is it quite certain, that in all\ncases where scientific men have considered hypotheses, one or other\nof which must be true, either will ever be verified? It seems to be\nobviously doubtful. Take, for instance, the question whether our actual\nspace is Euclidean or not. This is a case where the alternative has\nbeen considered; and where it is certain that, whatever be meant by\n\"our actual space,\" it either is Euclidean or is not. It has been held,\ntoo, that the hypothesis that it is not Euclidean might, conceivably,\nbe verified by observations. But it is doubtful whether it ever will\nbe. And though it would be rash to say that no man ever will be able\nto verify either hypothesis; it is also rash to assert positively that\nwe shall--that we certainly can verify the true hypotheses. There are,\nI believe, ever so many similar cases, where alternative hypotheses,\none or other of which must be true, have occurred to men of science,\nand where yet it is very doubtful whether either ever will be verified.\nOr take, again, such ideas as the idea that there is a God, or the\nidea that we are immortal. Many men have had not only contradictory\nideas, but contradictory beliefs, about these matters. And here we\nhave cases where it is disputed whether these ideas have not actually\nbeen verified. But it seems to me doubtful whether they have been. And\nthere is a view, which seems to me to deserve respect, that, in these\nmatters, we never shall be able to verify the true hypothesis. Is it\nperfectly certain that this view is a false one? I do not say that it\nis true. I think it is quite possible that we shall some day be able to\nverify either the belief that we are immortal or the belief that we are\nnot. But it seems to me doubtful whether we shall. And for this reason\nalone I should refuse to assent to the positive assertion that we\ncertainly can verify all our true ideas.\n\nWhen, therefore, Professor James tells us that \"True ideas are those\nthat we can assimilate, validate, corroborate and verify. False ideas\nare those that we cannot,\" there seems to be a serious objection to\npart of what these words imply. They imply that no idea of ours is\ntrue, unless we can verify it. They imply, therefore, that whenever a\nman wonders whether or not he had the seven of diamonds in the third\nhand at whist last night, neither of these ideas is true unless he can\nverify it. But it seems certain that in this, and an immense number of\nsimilar cases, one or other of the two ideas is true. Either, he did\nhave the card in his hand or he did not. If anything is a fact, this\nis one. Either, therefore, Professor James' words imply the denial of\nthis obvious fact, or else he implies that in _all_ such cases we _can_\nverify one or other of the two ideas. But to this the objection is\nthat, in any obvious sense of the words, it seems very doubtful whether\nwe can. On the contrary it seems extremely probable that in a _very\nlarge_ number of such cases no man ever will be able to verify either\nof the two ideas. There is, therefore, a serious objection to what\nProfessor James' words imply. Whether he himself really means to assert\nthese things which his words imply I do not know. Perhaps he would\nadmit that, in this sense, we probably cannot verify nearly all our\ntrue ideas. All that I have wished to make plain is that there is, at\nleast, an objection to what he says, whether to what he means or not.\nThere is ample reason why we should refuse assent to the statement that\nnone of our ideas are true, except those which we can verify.\n\nBut to another part of what he implies by the words quoted above, there\nis, I think, no serious objection. There is reason to object to the\nstatement that we can verify all our true ideas; but to the statement\nthat all ideas, which we can \"assimilate, validate, corroborate and\nverify,\" are true, I see no serious objection. Here, I think, we might\nsay simply that all ideas which we can verify are true. To this, which\nis the second of the four propositions, which I distinguished above\n(p. 35) as what Professor James seems to wish to assert, there is, I\nthink, no serious objection, if we understand the word \"verify\" in\nits proper and natural sense. We may, no doubt, sometimes say that we\nhave verified an idea or an hypothesis, when we have only obtained\nevidence which proves it to be probable, and does not prove it to be\ncertain. And, if we use the word in this loose sense for incomplete\nverification, it is obviously the case that we may verify an idea\nwhich is not true. But it seems scarcely necessary to point this out.\nAnd where we really can _completely_ verify an idea or an hypothesis,\nthere, undoubtedly, the idea which we can verify is always true. The\nvery meaning of the word \"verify\" is to find evidence which does really\nprove an idea to be true; and where an idea can be really proved to be\ntrue, it is of course, always true.\n\nThis is all I wish to say about Professor James' first two\npropositions, namely:--\n\n(1) That no ideas of ours are true, except those which we can verify.\n\n(2) That all those ideas, which we can verify, are true.\n\nThe first seems to me extremely doubtful--in fact, almost certainly\nuntrue; the second on the other hand, certainly true, in its most\nobvious meaning. And I shall say no more about them. The fact is, I\ndoubt whether either of them expresses anything which Professor James\nis really anxious to assert. I have mentioned them, only because his\nwords do, in fact, imply them and because he gives those words a very\nprominent place. But I have already had occasion to notice that he\nseems to speak as if to say that we can verify an idea came to the same\nthing as saying it is useful to us. And it is the connection of truth\nwith usefulness, not its connection with \"verification,\" that he is, I\nthink, really anxious to assert. He talks about \"verification\" only,\nI believe, because he thinks that what he says about it will support\nhis main view that truth is what \"works,\" is \"useful,\" is \"expedient,\"\n\"pays.\" It is this main view we have now to consider. We have to\nconsider the two propositions:--\n\n(3) That all our true ideas are useful.\n\n(4) That all ideas, which are useful, are true.\n\nFirst, then: is it the case that all our true ideas are useful? Is it\nthe case that none of our ideas are true, except those which are useful?\n\nI wish to introduce my discussion of this question by quoting a\npassage in which Professor James seems to me to say something which is\nindisputably true. Towards the end of Lecture VI, he attacks the view\nthat truths \"have an unconditional claim to be recognised.\" And in the\ncourse of his attack the following passage occurs:--\n\n\"Must I,\" he says, \"constantly be repeating the truth 'twice two are\nfour' because of its eternal claim on recognition? or is it sometimes\nirrelevant? Must my thoughts dwell night and day on my personal sins\nand blemishes, because I truly have them?--or may I sink and ignore\nthem in order to be a decent social unit, and not a mass of morbid\nmelancholy and apology?\"\n\n\"It is quite evident,\" he goes on, \"that our obligation to acknowledge\ntruth, so far from being unconditional, is tremendously conditional.\nTruth with a big T, and in the singular, claims abstractly to be\nrecognised, of course; but concrete truths in the plural need be\nrecognised only when their recognition is expedient.\" (pp. 231-232).\n\nWhat Professor James says in this passage seems to me so indisputably\ntrue as fully to justify the vigour of his language. It is as clear\nas anything can be that it would not be useful for any man's mind to\nbe _always_ occupied with the true idea that he had certain faults\nand blemishes; or to be _always_ occupied with the idea that twice\ntwo are four. It is clear, that is, that, if there are times at which\na particular true idea is useful, there certainly are other times\nat which it would _not_ be useful, but positively in the way. This\nis plainly true of nearly all, if not quite all, our true ideas. It\nis plainly true with regard to nearly all of them that, even if the\noccasions on which their occurrence is useful are many, the occasions\non which their occurrence would _not_ be useful are many more. With\nregard to most of them it is true that on most occasions they will, as\nProfessor James says elsewhere, \"be practically irrelevant, and had\nbetter remain latent.\"\n\nIt is, then, quite clear that almost any particular true idea _would_\nnot be useful at all times and that the times at which it would _not_\nbe useful, are many more than the times at which it would. And what\nwe have to consider is whether, in just this sense in which it is so\nclear that most true ideas would _not_ be useful at most times, it is\nnevertheless true that all our true ideas _are_ useful. Is this so? Are\nall our true ideas useful?\n\nProfessor James, we see, has just told us that there are ever so many\noccasions upon which a particular true idea, such as that 2 + 2= 4,\n_would_ not be useful--when, on the contrary, it would be positively in\nthe way. And this seems to be indisputably clear. But is not something\nelse almost equally clear? Is it not almost equally clear that cases,\nsuch as he says _would_ not be useful, do sometimes actually happen? Is\nit not clear that we do actually sometimes have true ideas, at times\nwhen they are not useful, but are positively in the way? It seems\nto me to be perfectly clear that this does sometimes occur; and not\nsometimes only, but very commonly. The cases in which true ideas occur\nat times when they are useful, are, perhaps, far _more_ numerous; but,\nif we look at men in general, the cases in which true ideas occur, at\ntimes when they are not useful, do surely make up positively a very\nlarge number. Is it not the case that men do sometimes dwell on their\nfaults and blemishes, when it is _not_ useful for them to do so? when\nthey would much better be thinking of something else? Is it not the\ncase that they are often unable to get their minds away from a true\nidea, when it is harmful for them to dwell on it? Still more commonly,\ndoes it not happen that they waste their time in acquiring pieces of\ninformation which are no use to them, though perhaps very useful to\nother people? All this seems to me to be undeniable--just as undeniable\nas what Professor James himself has said; and, if this is so, then, in\none sense of the words, it is plainly not true that all, or nearly all,\nour true ideas are useful. _In one sense of the words._ For if I have\nthe idea that 2+2=4 on one day, and then have it again the next, I may\ncertainly, in a sense, call the idea I have on one day _one_ idea, and\nthe idea I have on the next _another._ I have had two ideas that 2+2=4,\nand not one only. Or if two different persons both think that I have\nfaults, there have been two ideas of this truth and not one only. And\nin asking whether _all_ our true ideas are useful, we might mean to ask\nwhether _both_ of these ideas were useful and not merely whether one of\nthem was. In this sense, then, it is plainly not true that _all_ our\ntrue ideas are useful. It is not true, that is, that every true idea is\nuseful, _whenever it occurs._\n\nIn one sense, then, it is plainly not true that all our true ideas\nare useful. But there still remains a perfectly legitimate sense in\nwhich it might be true. It might be meant, that is, not that every\n_occurrence_ of a true idea is useful, but that every true idea is\nuseful on at least one of the occasions when it occurs. But is this,\nin fact, the case? It seems to me almost as plain that it is not, as\nthat the other was not. We have seen that true ideas are not by any\nmeans always useful on every occasion when they occur; though most\nthat do occur many times over and to many different people are, no\ndoubt, useful on some of these occasions. But there seems to be an\nimmense number of true ideas, which occur but once and to one person,\nand never again either to him or to anyone else. I may, for instance,\nidly count the number of dots on the back of a card, and arrive at a\ntrue idea of their number; and yet, perhaps, I may never think of their\nnumber again, nor anybody else ever know it. We are all, it seems to\nme, constantly noticing trivial details, and getting true ideas about\nthem, of which we never think again, and which nobody else ever gets.\nAnd is it quite certain that all these true ideas are useful? It seems\nto me perfectly clear, on the contrary, that many of them are not. Just\nas it is clear that many men sometimes waste their time in acquiring\ninformation which is useful to others but not to them, surely it is\nclear that they sometimes waste their time in acquiring information,\nwhich is useful to nobody at all, because nobody else ever acquires\nit. I do not say that it is never useful idly to count the number\nof dots on the back of a card. Plainly it is sometimes useful to be\nidle, and one idle employment may often be as good as another. But\nsurely it is true that men _sometimes_ do these things when their time\nwould have been better employed otherwise? Surely they sometimes get\ninto the habit of attending to trivial truths, which it is as great a\ndisadvantage that they should attend to as that they should constantly\nbe thinking of their own thoughts and blemishes? I cannot see my way\nto deny that this is so; and therefore I cannot see my way to assert\npositively that all our true ideas are useful, even so much as on _one\noccasion._ It seems to me that there are many true ideas which occur\nbut once, and which are not useful when they do occur. And if this be\nso, then it is plainly not true that _all_ our true ideas are useful in\nany sense at all.\n\nThese seem to me to be the most obvious objections to the assertion\nthat all our true ideas are useful. It is clear, we saw to begin with,\nthat true ideas, which are sometimes useful, _would_ not be useful at\nall times. And it seemed almost equally clear that they do sometimes\noccur at times when they are not useful. Our true ideas, therefore\nare not useful at every time when they actually occur. But in just\nthis sense in which it is so clear that true ideas which are sometimes\nuseful, nevertheless sometimes occur at times when they are not, it\nseems pretty plain that true ideas, which occur but once, are, some of\nthem, not useful. If an idea, which is sometimes useful, does sometimes\noccur to a man at a time when it is irrelevant and in the way, why\nshould not an idea, which occurs but once, occur at a time when it is\nirrelevant and in the way? It seems hardly possible to doubt that this\ndoes sometimes happen. But, if this be so, then it is not true that all\nour true ideas are useful, even so much as on one occasion. It is not\ntrue that none of our ideas are true, except those which are useful.\n\nBut now, what are we to say of the converse proposition--the\nproposition that all those among our ideas, which are useful, are true?\nThat we never have a useful idea, which is not true?\n\nI confess the matter seems to me equally clear here. The assertion\nshould mean that every idea, which is at any time useful, is true;\nthat no idea, which is not true, is ever useful. And it seems hardly\npossible to doubt that this assertion is false. It Is, in the first\nplace, commonly held that it is sometimes right positively to deceive\nanother person. In war, for instance it is held that one army is\njustified in trying to give the enemy a false idea as to where it\nwill be at a given time. Such a false idea is sometimes given, and it\nseems to me quite clear that it is sometimes useful. In such a case,\nno doubt, it may be said that the false idea is useful to the party\nwho have given it, but not useful to those who actually believe in it.\nAnd the question whether it is useful on the whole will depend upon\nthe question which side it is desirable should win. But it seems to me\nunquestionable that the false idea is sometimes useful on the whole.\nTake, for instance, the case of a party of savages, who wish to make a\nnight attack and massacre a party of Europeans but are deceived as to\nthe position in which the Europeans are encamped. It is surely plain\nthat such a false idea is sometimes useful on the whole. But quite\napart from the question whether deception is ever justifiable, it is\nnot very difficult to think of cases where a false idea, not produced\nby deception, is plainly useful--and useful, not merely on the whole,\nbut to the person who has it as well. A man often thinks that his watch\nis right, when, in fact, it is slow, and his false idea may cause\nhim to miss his train. And in such cases, no doubt, his false idea\nis _generally_ disadvantageous. But, in a particular case, the train\nwhich he would have caught but for his false idea may be destroyed\nin a railway accident, or something may suddenly occur at home, which\nrenders it much more useful that he should be there, than it would\nhave been for him to catch his train. Do such cases never occur? And\nis not the false idea sometimes useful in some of them? It seems to me\nperfectly clear that it is _sometimes_ useful for a man to think his\nwatch is right when it is wrong. And such instances would be sufficient\nto show that it is not the case that every idea of ours, which is ever\nuseful, is a true idea. But let us take cases, not, like these, of an\nidea, which occurs but a few times or to one man, but of ideas which\nhave occurred to many men at many times. It seems to me very difficult\nto be sure that the belief in an eternal hell has not been often useful\nto many men, and yet it may be doubted whether this idea is true. And\nso, too, with the belief in a happy life after death, or the belief in\nthe existence of a God; it is, I think, very difficult to be sure that\nthese beliefs have not been, and are not still, often useful, and yet\nit may be doubted whether they are true. These beliefs, of course, are\nmatters of controversy. Some men believe that they are both useful and\ntrue; and others, again, that they are neither. And I do not think we\nare justified in giving them as certain instances of beliefs, which\nare not true, but, nevertheless, have often been useful. But there is\na view that these beliefs, though not true, have, nevertheless, been\noften useful; and this view seems to me to deserve respect, especially\nsince, as we have seen, some beliefs, which are not true, certainly\nare sometimes useful. Are we justified in asserting positively that it\nis false? Is it perfectly certain that beliefs, which have often been\nuseful to many men, may not, nevertheless, be untrue? Is it perfectly\ncertain that beliefs, which are not true, have not often been useful\nto many men? The certainty may at least be doubted, and in any case it\nseems certain that some beliefs, which are not true, are, nevertheless,\nsometimes useful.\n\nFor these reasons, it seems to me almost certain that _both_ the\nassertions which I have been considering are false. It is almost\ncertainly false that all our true ideas are useful, and almost\ncertainly false that all our useful ideas are true. But I have only\nurged what seem to me to be the most obvious objections to these two\nstatements; I have not tried to sustain these objections by elaborate\narguments, and I have omitted elaborate argument, partly because of a\nreason which I now wish to state. The fact is, I am not at all sure\nthat Professor James would not himself admit that both these statements\nare false. I think it is quite possible he would admit that they are,\nand would say that he never meant either to assert or to imply the\ncontrary. He complains that some of the critics of Pragmatism are\nunwilling to read any but the silliest of possible meanings into the\nstatements of Pragmatism; and, perhaps, he would say that this is the\ncase here. I certainly hope that he would. I certainly hope he would\nsay that these statements, to which I have objected, are silly. For\nit does seem to me intensely silly to say that we can verify all our\ntrue ideas; intensely silly to say that every one of our true ideas\nis at some time useful; intensely silly to say that every idea which\nis ever useful is true. I hope Professor James would admit all these\nthings to be silly, for if he and other Pragmatists would admit even\nas much as this, I think a good deal would be gained. But it by no\nmeans follows that because a philosopher would admit a view to be\nsilly, when it is definitely put before him, he has not himself been\nconstantly holding and implying that very view. He may quite sincerely\nprotest that he never has either held or implied it, and yet he may\nall the time have been not only implying it but holding it--vaguely,\nperhaps, but really. A man may assure us, quite sincerely that he is\nnot angry; he may really think that he is not, and yet we may be able\nto judge quite certainly from what he says that he really is angry.\nHe may assure us quite sincerely that he never meant anything to our\ndiscredit by what he said--that he was not thinking of anything in the\nleast discreditable to us, and yet it may be plain from his words that\nhe was actually condemning us very severely. And so with a philosopher.\nHe may protest, quite angrily, when a view is put before him in other\nwords than his own, that he never either meant or implied any such\nthing, and yet it may be possible to judge, from what he says, that\nthis very view, wrapped up in other words, was not only held by him but\nwas precisely what made his thoughts seem to him to be interesting and\nimportant. Certainly he may quite often imply a given thing which, at\nanother time, he denies. Unless it were possible for a philosopher to\ndo this, there would be very little inconsistency in philosophy, and\nsurely everyone will admit that _other_ philosophers are very often\ninconsistent. And so in this case, even if Professor James would say\nthat he never meant to imply the things to which I have been objecting,\nyet in the case of two of these things, I cannot help thinking that\nhe does actually imply them--nay more, that he is frequently actually\nvaguely thinking of them, and that his theory of truth owes its\ninterest, in very great part, to the fact that he is implying them.\nIn the case of the two views that all our true ideas are useful, and\nthat all our useful ideas are true, I think this is so, and I do not\nmean merely that his _words_ imply them. A man's _words_ may often\nimply a thing, when he himself is in no way, however vaguely, thinking\neither of that thing or of anything which implies it; he may simply\nhave expressed himself unfortunately. But in the case of the two views\nthat all our true ideas are useful, and all our useful ideas true, I do\nnot think this is so with Professor James. I think that his thoughts\nseem interesting to him and others, largely because he is thinking,\nnot merely of words, but of things which imply these two views, in the\nvery form in which I have objected to them. And I wish now to give some\nreasons for thinking this.\n\nProfessor James certainly wishes to assert that there is _some_\nconnection between truth and utility. And the connection which I have\nsuggested that he has vaguely before his mind is this: that every true\nidea is, at some time or other, useful, and conversely that every idea,\nwhich is ever useful, is true. And I have urged that-there are obvious\nobjections to both these views. But now, supposing Professor James does\nnot mean to assert either of these two things, what else can he mean to\nassert? What else can he mean, that would account for the interest and\nimportance he seems to attach to his assertion of connection between\ntruth and utility? Let us consider the alternatives.\n\nAnd, first of all, he might mean that _most_ of our true ideas are\nuseful, and _most_ of our useful ideas true. He might mean that most\nof our true ideas are useful at some time or other; and even that most\nof them are useful, whenever they actually occur. And he might mean,\nmoreover, that if we consider the whole range of ideas, which are\nuseful to us, we shall find that by far the greater number of them are\ntrue ones; that true ideas are far more often useful to us, than those\nwhich are not true. And all this, I think, may be readily admitted to\nbe true. If this were all that he meant, I do not think that anyone\nwould be very anxious to dispute it. But is it conceivable that this\nis _all_ that he means? Is it conceivable that he should have been so\nanxious to insist upon this admitted commonplace? Is it conceivable\nthat he should have been offering us this, and nothing more, as a\ntheory of what truth means, and a theory worth making a fuss about, and\nbeing proud of? It seems to me quite inconceivable that this should\nhave been _all_ that he meant. He must have had something more than\nthis in his mind. But, if so, what more?\n\nIn the passage which I quoted at the beginning, as showing that he does\nmean to assert that _all_ useful ideas are true, he immediately goes on\nto assert a qualification, which must now be noticed. \"The true,\" he\nsays, \"is only the expedient in the way of our thinking\" (p. 222). But\nhe immediately adds: \"Expedient in the long run, and on the whole, of\ncourse; for what meets expediently all the experience in sight won't\nnecessarily meet all further experiences equally satisfactorily.\"\nHere, therefore, we have something else that he might mean. What is\nexpedient _in the long run_, he means to say, is true. And what exactly\ndoes this mean? It seems to mean that an idea, which is not true, may\nbe expedient _for some time_. That is to say, it may occur _once,_\nand be expedient then; and again, and be expedient then; and so on,\nover a considerable period. But (Professor James seems to prophesy)\nif it is not true, there will come a time, when it will cease to be\nexpedient. If it occurs again and again over a long _enough_ period,\nthere will at last, if it is not true, come a time when it will (for\nonce at least) fail to be useful, and will (perhaps he means) _never_\nbe useful again. This is, 1 think, what Professor James means in this\npassage. He means, I think, that though an idea, which is not true,\nmay for some time be repeatedly expedient, there will at last come a\ntime when its occurrence will, perhaps, _never_ be expedient again,\ncertainly will, for a time, not be _generally_ expedient. And this\na view which, it seems to me, may possibly be true. It is certainly\npossible that a time may come, in the far future, when ideas, which\nare not true, will hardly ever, if ever, be expedient. And this is all\nthat Professor James seems here positively to mean. He seems to mean\nthat, if you take time _enough_, false ideas will some day cease to be\nexpedient. And it is very difficult to be sure that this is not true;\nsince it is very difficult to prophesy as to what may happen in the far\nfuture. I am sure I hope that this prophesy will come true. But in the\nmeantime (Professor James seems to admit) ideas, which are not true,\nmay, for an indefinitely long time, again and again be expedient. And\nis it conceivable that a theory, which admits this, is _all_ that he\nhas meant to assert? Is it conceivable that what interests him, in his\ntheory of truth, is merely the belief that, some day or other, false\nideas will cease to be expedient? \"In the long run, _of course_,\" he\nsays, as if this were what he had meant all along. But I think it is\nquite plain that this is _not_ all that he has meant. This may be one\nthing which he is anxious to assert, but it certainly does not explain\nthe whole of his interest in his theory of truth.\n\nAnd, in fact, there is quite a different theory which he seems plainly\nto have in his mind in other places. When Professor James says, \"in\nthe long run, _of course_,\" he implies that ideas which are expedient\nonly for a _short_ run, are very often not true. But in what he says\nelsewhere he asserts the very opposite of this. He says elsewhere that\na belief is true \"_so long as_ to believe it is profitable to our\nlives\" (p. 75). That is to say, a belief will be true, _so long as_\nit is useful, even if it is _not_ useful in the long run! This is\ncertainly quite a different theory; and, strictly speaking, it implies\nthat an idea, which is useful even _on one occasion,_ will be true. But\nperhaps this is only a verbal implication. I think very likely that\nhere Professor James was only thinking of ideas, which can be said _to\nhave a run,_ though only a comparatively short one--of ideas, that is,\nwhich are expedient, not merely on one occasion, but _for some time._\nThat is to say, the theory which he now suggests, is that ideas, which\noccur again and again, perhaps to one man only, perhaps to several\ndifferent people, over some space of time are, if they are expedient on\nmost occasions within that space of time, true. This is a view which he\nis, I think, really anxious to assert; and if it were true, it would, I\nthink, be important. And it is difficult to find instances which show,\nwith certainty, that it is false. I believe that it is false; but it\nis difficult to prove it, because, in the case of some ideas it is so\ndifficult to be certain that they ever were useful, and in the case of\nothers so difficult to be certain that they are not true. A belief such\nas I spoke of before--the belief in eternal hell--is an instance. I\nthink this belief has been, for a long time, useful, and that yet it is\nfalse. But it is, perhaps, arguable that it never has been useful; and\nmany people on the other hand, would still assert that it is true. It\ncannot, therefore, perhaps, fairly be used as an instance of a belief,\nwhich is certainly not true, and yet has for some time been useful. But\nwhether this view that all beliefs, which are expedient for some time,\nare true, be true or false; can it be all that Professor James means to\nassert? Can it constitute the whole of what interests him in his theory\nof truth?\n\nI do not think it can. I think it is plain that he has in his mind\nsomething more than _any_ of these alternatives, or than all\nof them taken together. And I think so partly for the following\nreason. He speaks from the outset as if he intended to tell us what\n_distinguishes_ true ideas from those which are not true; to tell us,\nthat is to say, not merely of some property which belongs to all our\ntrue ideas; nor yet merely of some property, which belongs to none\nbut true ideas; but of some property which satisfies _both_ these\nrequirements at once--which both belongs to all our true ideas, and\n_also_ belongs to none but true ones. Truth, he says to begin with,\nmeans the agreement of our ideas with reality; and he adds \"as falsity\ntheir disagreement.\" And he explains that he is going to tell us what\nproperty it is that is meant by these words \"agreement with reality.\"\nSo again in the next passage which I quoted: \"True ideas,\" he says \"are\nthose that we can assimilate, validate, corroborate and verify.\" But,\nhe also adds, \"False ideas are those that we cannot.\" And no one, I\nthink, could possibly speak in this way, who had not in his head the\nintention of telling us what property it is which _distinguishes_ true\nideas from those which are not true, and which, therefore, not only\nbelongs to all ideas which are true, but also to none that are not.\nAnd that he has this idea in his head and thinks that the property of\nbeing \"useful\" or \"paying\" is such a property, is again clearly shown\nby a later passage. \"Our account of truth,\" he says (p. 218) \"is an\naccount of truths in the plural, of processes of leading, realised _in\nrebus_, and having only this quality in common, that they _pay.\" Only_\nthis quality in common! If this be so, the quality must obviously be\none, which is _not_ shared by any ideas which are _not_ true; for,\nif true ideas have any quality in common at all, they must have at\nleast one such quality, which is _not_ shared by those which are _not_\ntrue. Plainly, therefore, Professor James is intending to tell us of\na property which belongs both to _all_ true ideas and _only_ to true\nideas. And this property, he says, is that of \"paying.\" But now let us\nsuppose that he means by \"paying,\" not \"paying _once_ at least,\" but,\naccording to the alternative he suggests, \"paying in the long run\" or\n\"paying for some time.\" Can he possibly have supposed that these were\nproperties which belonged _both_ to all true ideas _and also_ to none\nbut true ones? They may, perhaps, be properties which belong to _none\nbut_ true ones. I doubt, as I have said, whether the latter does; but\nstill it is difficult to prove the opposite. But even if we granted\nthat they belong to _none but_ true ones, surely it is only too obvious\nthat they do _not_ fulfil the other requirement--that they do _not_\nbelong to nearly all true ones. Can anyone suppose that _all_ our true\nideas pay \"in the long run\" or repeatedly for some time? Surely it is\nplain that an enormous number do not for the simple reason that an\nenormous number of them _have no run at all,_ either long or short,\nbut occur but once, and never recur. I believe truly that a certain\nbook is on a particular shelf about 10.15 p.m. on December 21st, 1907;\nand this true belief serves me well and helps me to find it But the\nbelief that that book is there at that particular time occurs to no one\nelse, and never again to me. Surely there are thousands of useful true\nbeliefs which, like this, are useful but once, and never occur again;\nand it would, therefore, be preposterous to say that every true idea is\nuseful \"in the long run\" or repeatedly for some time. If, therefore,\nwe supposed Professor James to mean that \"paying in the long run\" or\n\"paying repeatedly over a considerable period\" were properties which\nbelonged to all true ideas and to none but true ones, we should be\nsupposing him to mean something still more monstrous than if we suppose\nhim to mean that \"paying at least once\" was such a property.\n\nTo sum up then:\n\nI think there is no doubt that Professor James' interest in \"the\npragmatist theory of truth\" is largely due to the fact that he thinks\nit tells us what distinguishes true ideas from those which are not\ntrue. And he thinks the distinction is that true ideas \"pay,\" and false\nones don't. The most natural interpretation of this view is: That every\ntrue idea pays at least once; and that every idea, which pays at least\nonce, is true. These were the propositions I considered first, and I\ngave reasons for thinking that _both_ are false. But Professor James\nsuggested elsewhere that what he means by \"paying\" is \"paying in the\nlong run.\" And here it seems possibly true that all ideas which \"pay\nin the long run\" are true; but it is certainly false that all our true\nideas \"pay in the long run,\" if by this be meant anything more than\n\"pay at least once.\" Again, he suggested that what he meant by paying\nwas \"paying for some time.\" And here, again, even if it is true (and it\nseems very doubtful) that all ideas which pay for some time are true,\nit is certainly false that all our true ideas pay for some time, if by\nthis be meant anything more than that they pay \"at least once.\"\n\nThis, I think, is the simplest and most obvious objection to Professor\nJames' \"instrumental\" view of truth--the view that truth is what\n\"works,\" \"pays,\" is \"useful.\" He seems certainly to have in his mind\nthe idea that this theory tells us what distinguishes true ideas from\nfalse ones, and to be interested in it mainly for this reason. He has\nvaguely in his mind that he has told us of some property which belongs\nto all true ideas and to none but true ones; and that this property is\nthat of \"paying.\" And the objection is, that, whatever we understand\nby \"paying,\" whether \"paying at least once,\" or \"paying in the long\nrun,\" or \"paying for some time,\" it seems certain that none of these\nproperties will satisfy _both_ requirements. As regards the first, that\nof \"paying at least once,\" it seems almost certain that it satisfies\n_neither:_ it is neither true that all our true ideas \"pay at least\nonce,\" nor yet that every idea which pays at least once, is true.\nOn the contrary, many true ideas never pay at all; and many ideas,\nwhich are not true, do pay on at least one occasion. And as regards\nthe others, \"paying in the long run\" and \"paying for some time,\"\neven if these do belong to none but true ideas (and even this seems\nvery doubtful), they certainly neither of them satisfy the _other_\nrequirement--neither of them belong to _all_ our true ideas. For, in\norder that either of them may belong to an idea, that idea must pay at\nleast once; and, as we have seen, many true ideas do not pay even once,\nand cannot, therefore, pay either in the long run or for some time.\nAnd, moreover, many true ideas, which do pay on one occasion, seem to\npay on one occasion and one only.\n\nAnd, if Professor James does not mean to assert any of these things,\nwhat is there left for him to mean? There is left in the first place,\nthe theory that _most_ of our true ideas do pay; and that _most_ of the\nideas which pay are true. This seems to me to be true, and, indeed, to\nbe all that is certainly true in what he says. But is it conceivable\nthat this is all he has meant? Obviously, these assertions tell us\nof no property at all which belongs to all true ideas, and to none\nbut true ones; and, moreover, it seems impossible that he should have\nbeen so anxious to assert this generally admitted commonplace. What a\nvery different complexion his whole discussion would have worn, had he\nmerely asserted this--this quite clearly, and nothing but this, while\nadmitting openly that many true ideas do not pay, and that many, which\ndo pay, are not true!\n\nAnd, besides this commonplace, there is only left for him to mean two\none-sided and doubtful assertions to the effect that certain properties\nbelong to none but true ideas. There is the assertion that all ideas\nwhich pay in the long run are true, and the assertion that all ideas\nwhich pay for some considerable time are true. And as to the first, it\n_may_ be true; but it may also be doubted, and Professor James gives us\nno reason at all for thinking that it is true. Assuming that religious\nideas have been useful in the past, is it quite certain that they may\nnot permanently continue to be useful, even though they are false?\nThat, in short, even though they are not true, they nevertheless will\nbe useful, not only for a time, but in the long run? And as for the\nassertion that all ideas, which pay for a considerable time, are true,\nthis is obviously more doubtful still. Whether certain religious ideas\nwill or will not be useful in the long run, it seems difficult to doubt\nthat many of them have been useful for a considerable time. And why\nshould we be told dogmatically that all of these are true? This, it\nseems to me, is by far the most interesting assertion, which is left\nfor Professor James to make, when we have rejected the theory that the\nproperty of being useful belongs to _all_ true ideas, as well as to\nnone but true ones. But he has given no reason for asserting it. He\nseems, in fact, to base it merely upon the general untenable theory,\nthat utility belongs to _all_ true ideas, and to none but true ones;\nthat this is what truth means.\n\nThese, then, seem to me the plainest and most obvious objections to\nwhat Professor James says about the connection between truth and\nutility. And there are only two further points, in what he says under\nthis head, that I wish to notice.\n\nIn the first place, we have hitherto been considering only whether it\nis true, as a matter of empirical fact, that all our true ideas are\nuseful, and those which are not true, never. Professor James seems,\nat least, to mean that, _as a matter of fact,_ this is so; and I have\nonly urged hitherto that _as a matter of fact_, it is not so. But as we\nhave seen, he also asserts something more than this--he also asserts\nthat this property of utility is the _only_ one which belongs to all\nour true ideas. And this further assertion cannot possibly be true, if,\nas I have urged, there are many true ideas which do not possess this\nproperty; or if, as I have urged, many ideas, which do possess it, are\nnevertheless not true. The objections already considered are, then,\nsufficient to overthrow this further assertion also. If there are any\ntrue ideas, which are not useful, or if any, which are useful, are not\ntrue, it cannot be the case that utility is the _only_ property which\ntrue ideas have in common. There must be some property, other than\nutility, which is common to all true ideas; and a correct theory as to\nwhat property it is that does belong to all true ideas, and to none but\ntrue ones, is still to seek. The empirical objections, hitherto given,\nare then sufficient objections to this further assertion also; but they\nare not the only objections to it. There is another and still more\nserious objection to the assertion that utility is the _only_ property\nwhich all true ideas have in common. For this assertion does not\n_merely_ imply that, as a matter of fact, all our true ideas and none\nbut true ideas are useful. It does, indeed, imply this; and therefore\nthe fact that these empirical assertions are not true is sufficient\nto refute it. But it also implies something more. If utility were the\n_only_ property which all true ideas had in common, it would follow\nnot merely that all true ideas are useful, but also that any idea,\nwhich was useful, _would_ be true _no matter what other properties\nit might have or might fail to have._ There can, I think, be no doubt\nthat Professor James does frequently speak as if this were the case;\nand there is an independent and still more serious objection to this\nimplication. Even if it were true (as it is not) that all our true\nideas and none but true ideas are, as a matter of fact, useful, we\nshould still have a strong reason to object to the statement that any\nidea, which was useful, _would_ be true. For it implies that if such an\nidea as mine, that Professor James exists, and has certain thoughts,\n_were_ useful, this idea would be true, _even if_ no such person as\nProfessor James ever did exist. It implies that, if the idea that I had\nthe seven of diamonds in my hand at cards last night, _were_ useful,\nthis idea would be true, even if, in fact, I did not have that card\nin my hand. And we can, I think, see quite plainly that this is not\nthe case. With regard to some kinds of ideas, at all events--ideas\nwith regard to the existence of other people, or with regard to past\nexperiences of our own--it seems quite plain that they would not be\ntrue, unless they \"agreed with reality\" in some other sense than that\nwhich Professor James declares to be the only one in which true ideas\nmust agree with it. Even if my idea that Professor James exists were to\n\"agree with reality,\" in the sense that, owing to it, I handled _other_\nrealities better than I should have done without it, it would, I think,\nplainly not be true, unless Professor James really did exist--unless\n_he_ were a reality. And this, I think, is one of the two most serious\nobjections to what he seems to hold about the connection of truth with\nutility. He seems to hold that any idea, which was useful, _would_ be\ntrue, _no matter what other properties it might fail to have._ And with\nregard to some ideas, at all events, it seems plain that they cannot be\ntrue, _unless_ they have the property that what they believe to exist,\nreally does or did exist. Beliefs in the existence of other people\nmight be useful to me, even if I alone existed; but, nevertheless, in\nsuch a case, they would not be true.\n\nAnd there is only one other point, in what Professor James says in\nconnection with the \"instrumental\" view of truth, upon which I wish\nto remark. We have seen that he seems sometimes to hold that beliefs\nare true, _so long as_ they are \"profitable to our lives.\" And this\nimplies, as we have seen, the doubtful proposition than any belief\nwhich is useful for some length of time, is true. But this is not\nall that it implies. It also implies that beliefs are true _only_ so\nlong as they are profitable. Nor does Professor James appear to mean\nby this that they _occur_, only so long as they are profitable. He\nseems to hold, on the contrary, that beliefs, which are profitable\nfor some time, do sometimes finally occur at a time when they are not\nprofitable. He implies, therefore, that a belief, which occurs at\nseveral different times, may be true at some of the times at which it\noccurs, and yet untrue at others. I think there is no doubt that this\nview is what he is sometimes thinking of. And this, we see, constitutes\na quite new view as to the connection between truth and utility--a view\nquite different from any that we have hitherto considered. This view\nasserts not that every true idea is useful at some time, or in the long\nrun, or for a considerable period; but that the truth of an idea may\ncome and go, as its utility comes and goes. It admits that one and the\nsame idea sometimes occurs at times when it is useful, and sometimes\nat times when it is not; but it maintains that this same idea is true,\nat those times when it is useful, and not true, at those when it is\nnot. And the fact that Professor James seems to suggest this view,\nconstitutes, I think, a second most serious objection to what he says\nabout the connection of truth and utility. It seems so obvious that\nutility is a property which comes and goes--which belongs to a given\nidea at one time, and does not belong to it at another, that anyone who\nsays that the true is the useful naturally seems not to be overlooking\nthis obvious fact, but to be suggesting that truth is a property which\ncomes and goes in the same way. It is, in this way I think, that the\n\"instrumental\" view of truth is connected with the view that truth is\n\"mutable.\" Professor James does, I think, imply that truth is mutable\nin just this sense--namely, that one and the same idea may be true at\nsome of the times at which it occurs, and not true at others, and this\nis the view which I have next to consider.\n\n\n(II)\n\nProfessor James seems to hold, generally, that \"truth\" is mutable. And\nby this he seems sometimes to mean that an idea which, when it occurs\nat one time, is true, _may,_ when it occurs at another time, not be\ntrue. He seems to hold that one and the same idea _may_ be true at\none time and false at another. That it _may_ be, for I do not suppose\nhe means that all ideas do actually undergo this change from true to\nfalse. Many true ideas seem to occur but once, and, if so, they, at\nleast, will not actually be true at one time and false at another,\nthough, even with regard to these, perhaps Professor James means to\nmaintain that they _might_ be false at another time, if they were to\noccur at it. But I am not sure that he even means to maintain this\nwith regard to _all_ our true ideas. Perhaps he does not mean to say,\nwith regard to _all_ of them, even that they _can_ change from true to\nfalse. He speaks, generally, indeed, as if truth were mutable; but,\nin one passage, he seems to insist that there is a certain class of\ntrue ideas, none of which are mutable in this respect. \"_Relations\namong purely mental ideas,\"_ he says (p. 209), \"form another sphere\nwhere true and false beliefs obtain, and here the beliefs are absolute\nor unconditional. When they are true they bear the name either of\ndefinitions or of principles. It is either a principle or a definition\nthat 1 and 1 make 2, that 2 and 1 make 3, and so on; that white differs\nless from grey than it does from black; that when the cause begins to\nact the effect also commences. Such propositions hold of all possible\n'ones,' of all conceivable 'whites,' 'greys,' and 'causes.' The objects\nhere are mental objects. Their relations are perceptually obvious\nat a glance, and no sense-verification is necessary. Moreover, once\ntrue, always true, of those same mental objects. Truth here has an\n'eternal' character. If you can find a concrete thing anywhere that is\n'one' or 'white' or 'grey' or an 'effect,' then your principles will\neverlastingly apply to it.\" Professor James does seem here to hold\nthat there are true ideas, which once true, are always true. Perhaps,\nthen, he does not hold that _all_ true ideas are mutable. Perhaps he\ndoes not even hold that all true ideas, _except_ ideas of this kind,\nare so. But he does seem to hold at least that _many_ of our true ideas\nare mutable. And even this proposition seems to me to be disputable.\nIt seems to me that there is a sense in which it is the case with\n_every_ true idea that, if once true, it is always true. That is to\nsay, that every idea, which is true once, _would_ be true at any other\ntime at which it were to occur; and that every idea which does occur\nmore than once, if true once, _is_ true at every time at which it does\noccur. There seems to me, I say, to be _a sense_ in which this is so.\nAnd this seems to me to be the sense in which it is most commonly and\nmost naturally maintained that all truths are \"immutable.\" Professor\nJames seems to mean to deny it, even in this sense. He seems to me\nconstantly to speak as if there were _no_ sense in which _all_ truths\nare immutable. And I only wish to point out what seems to me to be the\nplainest and most obvious objection to such language.\n\nAnd, first of all, there is one doctrine, which he seems to connect\nwith this of his that \"truths are mutable,\" with regard to which I\nfully agree with him. He seems very anxious to insist that reality is\nmutable: that it does change, and that it is not irrational to hope\nthat in the future it will be different from and much better than it\nis now. And this seems to me to be quite undeniable. It seems to me\nquite certain that I do have ideas at one time which I did not have\nat another; that change, therefore, does really occur. It seems to me\nquite certain that in the future many things will be different from\nwhat they are now; and I see no reason to think that they may not be\nmuch better. There is much misery in the world now; and I think it is\nquite possible that some day there will really be much less. This view\nthat _reality_ is mutable, that _facts_ do change, that some things\nhave properties at one time which they do not have at other times,\nseems to me certainly true. And so far, therefore, as Professor James\nmerely means to assert this obvious fact, I have no objection to his\nview. Some philosophers, I think, have really implied the denial of\nthis fact. All those who deny the reality of time do seem to me to\nimply that nothing really changes or can change--that, in fact, reality\nis wholly immutable. And so far as Professor James is merely protesting\nagainst this view, I should, therefore, agree with him.\n\nBut I think it is quite plain that he does not mean _merely_ this,\nwhen he says that truth is mutable. No one would choose this way of\nexpressing himself if he merely meant to say that _some_ things are\nmutable. Truth, Professor James has told us, is a property of certain\nof our ideas. And those of our ideas, which are true or false, are\ncertainly only a part of the Universe. Other things in the Universe\nmight, therefore, change, even if our ideas never changed in respect\nof this property. And our ideas themselves do undoubtedly change in\nsome respects. A given idea exists in my mind at one moment and does\nnot exist in it at another. At one moment it is in my mind and not in\nsomebody else's, and at another in somebody else's and not in mine.\nI sometimes think of the truth that twice two are four when I am in\none mood, and sometimes when I am in another. I sometimes think of it\nin connection with one set of ideas and sometimes in connection with\nanother set. Ideas, then, are constantly changing in some respects.\nThey come and go; and at one time they stand in a given relation to\nother things or ideas, to which at another time they do not stand in\nthat relation. In this sense, any given idea may certainly have a\nproperty at one time which it has not got at another time. All this\nseems obvious; and all this cannot be admitted, without admitting that\nreality is mutable--that _some_ things change. But obviously it does\nnot seem to follow from this that there is _no_ respect in which ideas\nare immutable. It does not seem to follow that because ideas, and other\nthings, change some of their properties, they necessarily change that\none which we are considering--namely, \"truth.\" It does not follow that\na given idea, which has the property of truth at one time, ever exists\nat any other time without having that property. And yet that this\n_does_ happen seems to be part of what is meant by saying that truth\nis mutable. Plainly, therefore, to say this is to say something quite\ndifferent from saying that _some_ things are mutable. Even, therefore,\nif we admit that _some_ things are mutable, it is still open to\nconsider whether truth is so. And this is what I want now to consider.\nIs it the case that an idea which exists at one time, and is true then,\never exists at any other time, without being true? Is it the case that\nany idea ever changes from true to false? That it has the property of\nbeing true on one of the occasions when it exists, and that it has\n_not_ this property, but that of being false instead, on some other\noccasion when it exists?\n\nIn order to answer this question clearly, it is, I think, necessary to\nmake still another distinction. It does certainly seem to be true, _in\na sense_, that a given idea may be true on one occasion and false on\nanother. We constantly speak as if there were cases in which a given\nthing was true on one occasion and false on another; and I think it\ncannot be denied that, when we so speak, we are often expressing in a\nperfectly proper and legitimate manner something which is undeniably\ntrue. It is true now, I might say, that I am in this room; but\nto-morrow this will not be true. It is true now that men are often\nvery miserable; but perhaps in some future state of society this will\nnot be true. These are perfectly natural forms of expression, and what\nthey express is something which certainly may be true. And yet what\nthey do apparently assert is that something or other, which is true\nat one time, will not, or _perhaps_ will not, be true at another. We\nconstantly use such expressions, which imply that what is true at one\ntime is not true at another; and it is certainly legitimate to use\nthem. And hence, I think, we must admit that, _in a sense_, it is true\nthat a thing may be true at one time which is not true at another; in\nthat sense, namely, in which we use these expressions. And it is, I\nthink, also plain that these things, which may be true at one time and\nfalse at another, may, _in a sense,_ be ideas. We might even say: The\nidea that I am in this room, is true now; but to-morrow it will not be\ntrue. We might say this without any strain on language. In any ordinary\nbook--indeed, in any philosophical book, where the subject we are at\npresent discussing was not being expressly discussed--such expressions\ndo, I think, constantly occur. And we should pass them, without any\nobjection. We should at once understand what they meant, and treat them\nas perfectly natural expressions of things undeniably true. We must,\nthen, I think, admit that, _in a sense_, an idea may be true at one\ntime, and false at another. The question is: In what sense? What is the\ntruth for which these perfectly legitimate expressions stand?\n\nIt seems to me that in all these cases, so far as we are not merely\ntalking of _facts_, but of true _ideas_, that the \"idea\" which we truly\nsay to be true at one time and false at another, is merely the idea\nof a _sentence_--that is, of certain _words._ And we do undoubtedly\ncall _words_ \"true.\" The words \"I am at a meeting of the Aristotelian\nSociety\" are true, if I use them now; but if I use the same words\nto-morrow, they would not be true. The words \"George III is king of\nEngland\" were true in 1800, but they are not true now. That is to say,\na given set of words may undoubtedly be true at one time, and false\nat another; and since we may have ideas of words as well as of other\nthings, we may, in this sense, say the same of certain of our \"ideas.\"\nWe may say that some of our \"ideas\" (namely those of words) are true at\none time and not true at another.\n\nBut is it conceivable that Professor James _merely_ meant to assert\nthat the same _words_ are sometimes true at one time and false at\nanother? Can this be _all_ he means by saying that truth is mutable?\nI do not think it can possibly be so. No one, I think, in definitely\ndiscussing the mutability of truth, could say that true ideas were\nmutable, and yet mean (although he did not say so) that this\nproposition applied _solely_ to ideas of words. Professor James must, I\nthink, have been sometimes thinking that _other_ ideas, and not merely\nideas of words, do sometimes change from true to false. And this is the\nproposition which I am concerned to dispute. It seems to me that if we\nmean by an idea, not merely the idea of certain words, but the kind of\nidea which words express, it is very doubtful whether such an idea ever\nchanges from true to false--whether any such idea is ever true at one\ntime and false at another.\n\nAnd plainly, in the first place, the mere fact that the same set of\nwords, as in the instances I have given, really are true at one time\nand false at another, does not afford any presumption that anything\nwhich they stand for is true at one time and false at another. For\nthe same words may obviously be used in different senses at different\ntimes; and hence though the same words, which formerly expressed a\ntruth, may cease to express one, that may be because they now express\na _different_ idea, and not because the idea which they formerly\nexpressed has ceased to be true. And that, in instances such as I have\ngiven, the words _do_ change their meaning according to the time at\nwhich they are uttered or thought of, is I think, evident. If I use now\nthe words \"I am in this room,\" these words certainly express (among\nother things) the idea that my being in this room is contemporary\nwith my present use of the words; and if I were to use the same words\nto-morrow, they would express the idea that my being in this room\nto-morrow, was contemporary with the use of them _then._ And since my\nuse of them then would not be the same fact as my use of them now,\nthey would certainly then express a different idea from that which\nthey express now. And in general, whenever we use the present tense\nin its primary sense, it seems to me plain that we do mean something\ndifferent by it each time we use it. We always mean (among other\nthings) to express the idea that a given event is contemporary with\nour actual use of it; and since our actual use of it on one occasion\nis always a different fact from our actual use of it on another, we\nexpress by it a different idea each time we use it. And similarly with\nthe past and future tenses. If anybody had said in 1807 \"Napoleon is\ndead,\" he would certainly have meant by these words something different\nfrom what I mean by them when I use them now. He would have meant that\nNapoleon's death occurred at a time previous to _his_ use of those\nwords; and this would not have been true. But in this fact there is\nnothing to show that if he _had_ meant by them what I mean now, his\nidea would not have been as true then as mine is now. And so, if I say\n\"It will rain to-morrow,\" these words have a different meaning to-day\nfrom what they would have if I used them to-morrow. What we mean by\n\"to-morrow\" is obviously a different day, when we use the word on one\nday, from what we mean by it when we use it on another. But in this\nthere is nothing to show that if the idea, which I _now_ mean by \"It\nwill rain to-morrow,\" _were_ to occur again to-morrow, it would not be\ntrue then, if it is true now. All this is surely very obvious. But,\nif we take account of it, and if we concentrate our attention not on\nthe words but on what is meant by them, is it so certain that what we\nmean by them on any one occasion ever changes from true to false? If\nthere were to occur to me to-morrow the very same idea which I now\nexpress by the words \"I am in this room,\" is it certain that this idea\nwould not be as true then as it is now? It is perhaps true that the\n_whale_ of what I mean by such a phrase as this never does recur. But\npart of it does, and that a part which is true. Part of what I mean\nis Certainly identical with part of what I should mean to-morrow by\nsaying \"I _was_ in that room last night.\" And this part would be as\ntrue then, as it is now. And is there _any_ part, which, if it were to\nrecur at any time, would _not_ then be true, though it Is true now? In\nthe case of all ideas or parts of ideas, which ever do actually recur,\ncan we find a single instance of one, which is plainly true at one of\nthe times when it occurs, and yet not true at another? I cannot think\nof any such instance. And on the other hand this very proposition that\nany idea (other than mere words) which is true once, would be true at\nany time, seems to me to be one of those truths of which Professor\nJames has spoken as having an \"eternal,\" \"absolute,\" \"unconditional\"\ncharacter--as being \"perceptually obvious at a glance\" and needing\n\"no sense-verification.\" Just as we know that, if a particular colour\ndiffers more from black than from grey at one time, the same colour\nwould differ more from black than from grey at any time, so, it seems\nto me, we can see that, if a particular idea is true at one time, the\nsame idea would be true at any time.\n\nIt seems to me, then, that if we mean by an idea, not mere words, but\nthe kind of idea which words express, any idea, which is true at one\ntime when it occurs, _would_ be true at any time when it were to occur;\nand that this is so, even though it is an idea, which refers to facts\nwhich are mutable. My being in this room is a fact which is now, but\nwhich certainly has not been at every time and will not be at every\ntime. And the words \"I _am_ in this room,\" though they express a truth\nnow, would not have expressed one if I had used them yesterday, and\nwill not if I use them to-morrow. But if we consider the idea which\nthese words _now_ express--namely, the idea of the connection of my\nbeing in this room with this particular time--it seems to me evident\nthat anybody who had thought of that connection at any time in the\npast, would have been thinking truly, and that anybody who were to\nthink of it at any time in the future would be thinking truly. This\nseems to me to be the sense in which truths are immutable--in which\nno idea can change from true to false. And I think Professor James\nmeans to deny of truths generally, if not of all truths, that they are\nimmutable even in this sense. If he does not mean this there seems\nnothing left for him to mean, when he says that truths are mutable,\nexcept (1) that some _facts_ are mutable, and (2) that the same _words_\nmay be true at one time and false at another. And it seems to me\nimpossible that he could speak as he does, if he meant _nothing more_\nthan these two things. I believe, therefore, that he is really thinking\nthat ideas which have been once true (_ideas,_ and not merely words)\ndo sometimes afterwards become false: that the very same idea is at\none time true and at another false. But he certainly gives no instance\nwhich shows that this does ever occur. And how far does he mean his\nprinciple to carry him? Does he hold that this idea that Julius Caesar\nwas murdered in the Senate-House, though true now, may, at some future\ntime cease to be true, if it should be more profitable to the lives of\nfuture generations to believe that he died in his bed? Things like this\nare what his words seem to imply; and, even if he does hold that truths\nlike this are _not_ mutable, he never tries to tell us to what kinds of\ntruths he would limit mutability, nor how they differ from such as this.\n\n\n(III)\n\nFinally, there remains the view that \"to an unascertainable extent our\ntruths are man-made products.\" And the only point I want to make about\nthis view may be put very briefly.\n\nIt is noticeable that all the instances which Professor James gives\nof the ways in which, according to him, \"our truths\" are \"made\" are\ninstances of ways in which our _beliefs_ come into existence. In\nmany of these ways, it would seem, false beliefs sometimes come into\nexistence as well as true ones; and I take it Professor James does\nnot always wish to deny this. False beliefs, I think he would say,\nare just as much \"man-made products\" as true ones: it is sufficient\nfor his purpose if true beliefs do come into existence in the ways he\nmentions. And the only point which seems to be illustrated by all these\ninstances, is that in all of them the existence of a true belief does\ndepend in some way or other upon the previous existence of something\nin some man's mind. They are all of them cases in which we may truly\nsay: This man would not have had just that belief, had not some man\npreviously had such and such experiences, or interests, or purposes.\nIn some cases they are instances of ways in which the existence of a\nparticular belief in a man depends upon _his own_ previous experiences\nor interests or volitions. But this does not seem to be the case\nin all. Professor James seems also anxious to illustrate the point\nthat one man's beliefs often depend upon the previous experiences or\ninterests or volitions of _other_ men. And, as I say, the only point\nwhich seems to be definitely illustrated in all cases is that the\nexistence of a true belief does depend, _in some way or other,_ upon\nsomething which has previously existed in some man's mind. Almost\nany kind of dependence, it would seem, is sufficient to illustrate\nProfessor James' point.\n\nAnd as regards this general thesis that almost all our beliefs, true as\nwell as false, depend, in some way or other, upon what has previously\nbeen in some human mind, it will, I think, be readily admitted. It\nis a commonplace, which, so far as I know, hardly anyone would deny.\nIf this is all that is to be meant by saying that our true beliefs\nare \"man-made,\" it must, I think, be admitted that almost all, If not\nquite all, really are man-made. And this is all that Professor James'\ninstances seem to me, in fact, to show.\n\nBut is this all that Professor James means, when he says that _our\ntruths_ are man-made? Is it conceivable that he only means to insist\nupon this undeniable, and generally admitted, commonplace? It seems to\nme quite plain that this is not all that he means. I think he certainly\nmeans to suggest that, from the fact that we \"make\" our true beliefs,\nsomething _else_ follows. And I think it is not hard to see one thing\nmore which he does mean. I think he certainly means to suggest that we\nnot only make our true beliefs, but also that we _make them true._ At\nleast as much as this is certainly naturally suggested by his words.\nNo one would persistently say that we make _our truths_, unless he\nmeant, at least, not merely that we make our true beliefs, but also\nthat we make them true--unless he meant not merely that the existence\nof our true beliefs, but also that their _truth_, depended upon human\nconditions. This, it seems to me, is one consequence which Professor\nJames means us to draw from the commonplace that the _existence_ of our\ntrue beliefs depends upon human conditions. But does this consequence,\nin fact, follow from that commonplace? From the fact that we make our\ntrue beliefs, does it follow that we _make them true?_\n\n_In one sense,_ undoubtedly, even this does follow. If we say (as we\nmay say) that no belief can be true, unless it exists, then it follows\nthat, in a sense, the truth of a belief must always depend upon any\nconditions upon which its existence depends. If, therefore, the\noccurrence of a belief depends upon human conditions, so, too, must its\ntruth. If the belief had never existed, it would never have been true;\nand therefore its truth must, in a sense, depend upon human conditions\nin exactly the same degree in which its existence depends upon them.\nThis is obvious. But is this all that is meant? Is this all that would\nbe suggested to us by telling us that we make our beliefs true?\n\nIt is easy to see that it is not. I may have the belief that it will\nrain to-morrow. And I may have \"made\" myself have this belief. It may\nbe the case that I should not have had it, but for peculiarities in my\npast experiences, in my interests and my volitions. It may be the case\nthat I should not have had it, but for a deliberate attempt to consider\nthe question whether it will rain or not. This may easily happen. And\ncertainly this particular belief of mine would not have been true,\nunless it existed. Its truth, therefore, depends, in a sense, upon any\nconditions upon which its existence depends. And this belief may be\ntrue. It will be true, if It does rain to-morrow. But, in spite of all\nthese reasons, would anyone think of saying that, in case it is true, I\nhad _made_ it true? Would anyone say that I had had any hand _at all_\nin making it true? Plainly no one would. We should say that I had a\nhand in making it true, if and only If I had a hand in _making the rain\nfall._ In every case in which we believe in the existence of anything,\npast or future, we should say that we had helped to make the belief\ntrue, if and only if we had helped to cause the existence of the fact\nwhich, in that belief, we believed did exist or would exist. Surely\nthis is plain. I may believe that the sun will rise to-morrow. And I\nmay have had a hand in \"making\" this belief; certainly it often depends\nfor its existence upon what has been previously in my mind. And if the\nsun does rise, my belief will have been true. I have, therefore, had\na hand in making a true belief. But would anyone say that, therefore,\nI had a hand in _making this belief true_? Certainly no one would. No\none would say that anything had contributed to make this belief true,\nexcept those conditions (whatever they may be) which contributed to\nmaking the sun actually rise.\n\nIt is plain, then, that by \"making a belief true,\" we mean something\nquite different from what Professor James means by \"making\" that\nbelief. Conditions which have a hand in making a given true belief,\nmay (it appears) have no hand at all in making it true; and conditions\nwhich have a hand in making it true may have no hand at all in making\n_it._ Certainly this is how we use the words. We should never say that\nwe had made a belief true, merely because we had made the belief. But\nnow, which of these two things does Professor James mean? Does he mean\n_merely_ the accepted commonplace that we make our true beliefs, in the\nsense that almost all of them depend for their existence on what has\nbeen previously in some human mind? Or does he mean also that we _make\nthem true_--that their truth also depends on what has been previously\nin some human mind?\n\nI cannot help thinking that he has the latter, and not only the former\nin his mind. But, then, what does this involve? If his instances of\n\"truth-making\" are to be anything to the purpose, it should mean that,\nwhenever I have a hand in causing one of my own beliefs, I always\nhave to that extent a hand in making it true. That, therefore, I have\na hand in actually making the sun rise, the wind blow, and the rain\nfall, whenever I cause my beliefs in these things. Nay, more, it\nshould mean that, whenever I \"make\" a true belief about the past, I\nmust have had a hand in making this true. And if so, then certainly I\nmust have had a hand in causing the French Revolution, in causing my\nfather's birth, in making Professor James write this book. Certainly\nhe implies that some man or other must have helped in causing almost\nevery event, in which any man ever truly believed. That it was we who\nmade the planets revolve round the sun, who made the Alps rise, and\nthe floor of the Pacific sink--all these things, and others like them,\nseem to be involved. And it is these consequences which seem to me to\njustify a doubt whether, in fact \"our truths are to an unascertainable\nextent man-made.\" That some of our truths are man-made--indeed, a great\nmany--I fully admit. We certainly do make some of our beliefs true.\nThe Secretary probably had a belief that I should write this paper,\nand I have made his belief true by writing it. Men certainly have the\npower to alter the world to a certain extent; and, so far as they do\nthis, they certainly \"make true\" any beliefs, which are beliefs in the\noccurrence of these alterations. But I can see no reason for supposing\nthat they \"make true\" _nearly_ all those of their beliefs which are\ntrue. And certainly the only reason which Professor James seems to\ngive for believing this--namely, that the _existence_ of almost all\ntheir beliefs depends on them--seems to be no reason for it at all. For\nunquestionably a man does not \"make true\" nearly every belief whose\n_existence_ depends on him; and if so, the question which of their\nbeliefs and how many, men do \"make true\" must be settled by quite other\nconsiderations.\n\nIn conclusion, I wish to sum up what seems to me to be the most\nimportant points about this \"pragmatist theory of truth,\" as Professor\nJames represents it. It seems to me that, in what he says about it, he\nhas in his mind some things which are true and others which are false;\nand I wish to tabulate separately the principal ones which I take to be\ntrue, and the principal ones which I take to be false. The true ones\nseem to me to be these:--\n\nThat _most_ of our true beliefs are useful to us; and that _most_ of\nthe beliefs that are useful to us are true.\n\nThat the world really does change in some respects; that facts exist at\none time, which didn't and won't exist at others; and that hence the\nworld may be better at some future time than it is now or has been in\nthe past.\n\n\nThat the very same words may be true at one time and false at\nanother--that they may express a truth at one time and a falsehood at\nanother.\n\nThat the existence of most, if not all, of our beliefs, true as well as\nfalse, does depend upon previous events in our mental history; that we\nshould never have had the particular beliefs we do have, had not our\nprevious mental history been such as it was.\n\nThat the truth, and not merely the existence, of _some_ of our beliefs,\ndoes depend upon us. That we really do make some alterations in the\nworld, and that hence we do help to \"make true\" all those of our\nbeliefs which are beliefs in the existence of these alterations.\n\n\nTo all of these propositions I have no objection to offer. And they\nseem to me to be generally admitted commonplaces. A certain class of\nphilosophers do, indeed, imply the denial of every one of them--namely,\nthose philosophers who deny the reality of time. And I think that\npart of Professor James' object is to protest against the views of\nthese philosophers. All of these propositions do constitute a protest\nagainst such views; and so far they might be all that Professor James\nmeant to assert. But I do not think that anyone, fairly reading through\nwhat he says, could get the impression that these things, and nothing\nmore, were what he had in his mind. What gives colour and interest to\nwhat he says, seems to be obviously something quite different. And, if\nwe try to find out what exactly the chief things are which give his\ndiscussion its colour and interest, it seems to me we may distinguish\nthat what he has in his mind, wrapped up in more or less ambiguous\nlanguage, are the following propositions, to all of which I have tried\nto urge what seem to me the most obvious objections:--\n\n\nThat utility is a property which distinguishes true beliefs from those\nwhich are not true; that, therefore, _all_ true beliefs are useful, and\n_all_ beliefs, which are useful, are true--by \"utility\" being sometimes\nmeant \"utility on at least one occasion,\" sometimes \"utility in the\nlong run,\" sometimes \"utility for some length of time.\"\n\nThat all beliefs which are useful for some length of time are true.\n\nThat utility is the _only_ property which all true beliefs have in\ncommon: that, therefore, _if_ it were useful to me to believe in\nProfessor James' existence, this belief _would_ be true, even if he\ndidn't exist; and that, _if_ it were not useful to me to believe this,\nthe belief _would_ be false, even if he did.\n\nThat the beliefs, which we express by words, and not merely the words\nthemselves, may be true at one time and _not_ true at another; and that\nthis is a general rule, though perhaps there may be some exceptions.\n\nThat whenever the _existence_ of a belief depends to some extent on\nus, then also the _truth_ of that belief depends to some extent on us;\nin the sense in which this implies, that, when the existence of my\nbelief that a shower will fall depends upon me, then, if this belief\nis true, I must have had a hand in making the shower fall: that,\ntherefore, men must have had a hand in making to exist almost every\nfact which they ever believe to exist.\n\n\n[1] _Pragmatism: A New Name for some Old Ways of Thinking: Popular\nLectures on Philosophy._ By William James. Longmans, Green, and Co.,\n1907\n\n\n\n\nHUME'S PHILOSOPHY\n\n\nIn both of his two books on the Human Understanding, Hume had, I think,\none main general object. He tells us that it was his object to discover\n\"the extent and force of human understanding,\" to give us \"an exact\nanalysis of its powers and capacity.\" And we may, I think, express\nwhat he meant by this in the following way. He plainly held (as we\nall do) that some men sometimes entertain opinions which they cannot\nknow to be true. And he wished to point out what characteristics are\npossessed by those of our opinions which we _can_ know to be true, with\na view of persuading us that any opinion which does _not_ possess any\nof these characteristics is of a kind which we _cannot_ know to be so.\nHe thus tries to lay down certain rules to the effect that the _only_\npropositions which we can, any of us, know to be true are of certain\ndefinite kinds. It is in this sense, I think, that he tries to define\nthe limits of human understanding.\n\nWith this object he, first of all, divides all the propositions,\nwhich we can even so much as conceive, into two classes. They are\nall, he says, either propositions about \"relations of ideas\" or else\nabout \"matters of fact.\" By propositions about \"relations of ideas\"\nhe means such propositions as that twice two are four, or that black\ndiffers from white; and it is, I think, easy enough to see, though\nby no means easy to define, what kind of propositions it is that\nhe means to include in this division. They are, he says, the only\nkind of propositions with regard to which we can have \"intuitive\" or\n\"demonstrative\" certainty. But the vast majority of the propositions\nin which we believe and which interest us most, belong to the other\ndivision: they are propositions about \"matters of fact.\" And these\nagain he divides into two classes. So far as his words go, this latter\ndivision is between \"matters of fact, beyond the present testimony of\nour senses, or the records of our memory,\" on the one hand, and matters\nof fact for which we _have_ the evidence of our memory or senses, on\nthe other. But it is, I think, quite plain that these words do not\nrepresent quite accurately the division which he really means to make.\nHe plainly intends to reckon along with facts for which we have the\nevidence of our _senses_ all facts for which we have the evidence\nof _direct observation_--such facts, for instance, as those which I\nobserve when I observe that I am angry or afraid, and which cannot be\nstrictly said to be apprehended by my _senses._ The division, then,\nwhich he really intends to make is (to put it quite strictly) into the\ntwo classes--(1) propositions which assert some matter of fact which I\nam (in the strictest sense) _observing_ at the moment, or which I have\nso observed in the past and now remember; and (2) propositions which\nassert any matter of fact which I am not now observing and never have\nobserved, or, if I have, have quite forgotten.\n\nWe have, then, the three classes--(1) propositions which assert\n\"relations of ideas\"; (2) propositions which assert \"matters of fact\"\nfor which we have the evidence of direct observation or personal\nmemory; (3) propositions which assert \"matters of fact_\"_ for which\nwe have _not_ this evidence. And as regards propositions of the first\ntwo classes, Hume does not seem to doubt our capacity for knowledge.\nHe does not doubt that we can know _some_ (though, of course, not\n_all)_ propositions about \"relations of ideas\" to be true; he never\ndoubts, for instance, that we can know that twice two are four. And\nhe generally assumes also that each of us can know the truth of\n_all_ propositions which merely assert some matter of fact which we\nourselves are, in the strictest sense, directly observing, or which\nwe have so observed and now remember. He does, indeed, in one place,\nsuggest a doubt whether our memory is _ever_ to be implicitly trusted,\nbut he generally assumes that it _always_ can. It is with regard to\npropositions of the third class that he is chiefly anxious to determine\nwhich of them (if any) we can know to be true and which not. In what\ncases can any man know any matter of fact which he himself has not\ndirectly observed? It is Hume's views on this question which form, I\nthink, the main interest of his philosophy.\n\nHe proposes, first of all, by way of answer to it, a rule, which may,\nI think, be expressed as follows: No man, he says, can ever know any\nmatter of fact, which he has not himself observed, unless he can know\nthat it is connected by \"the relation of cause and effect,\" with some\nfact which he _has_ observed. And no man can ever know that any two\nfacts are connected by this relation, except by the help of his own\npast _experience._ In other words, if I am to know any fact, A, which\nI have not myself observed, my past experience must give me some\nfoundation for the belief that A is causally connected with some fact,\nB, which I have observed. And the only kind of past experience which\ncan give me any foundation for such a belief is, Hume seems to say,\nas follows: I must, he says, have found _facts like_ A \"constantly\nconjoined\" in the past with _facts like_ B. This is what he _says;_\nbut we must not, I think, press his words too strictly. I may, for\ninstance, know that A is _probably_ a fact, even where the conjunction\nof facts like it with facts like B has not been quite constant. Or\ninstead of observing facts like A conjoined with facts like B, I may\nhave observed a whole series of conjunctions--for instance, between A\nand C, C and D, D and E, and E and B; and such a series, however long,\nwill do quite as well to establish a causal connection between A and B,\nas if I had directly observed conjunctions between A and B themselves.\nSuch modifications as this, Hume would, I think, certainly allow. But,\nallowing for them, his principle is, I think, quite clear. I can, he\nholds, never know any fact whatever, which I have not myself observed,\nunless I have observed similar facts in the past and have observed that\nthey were \"conjoined\" (directly or indirectly) with facts similar to\nsome fact which I do now observe or remember. In this sense, he holds,\n_all_ our knowledge of facts, beyond the reach of our own observation,\nis founded on _experience._\n\nThis is Hume's primary principle. But what consequences does he\nthink will follow from it, as to the kind of facts, beyond our own\nobservation, which we can know? We may, I think, distinguish three\nentirely different views as to its consequences, which he suggests in\ndifferent parts of his work.\n\nIn the first place, where he is specially engaged in explaining this\nprimary principle, he certainly seems to suppose that all propositions\nof the kind, which we assume most universally in everyday life, may be\nfounded on experience in the sense required. He supposes that we have\nthis foundation in experience for such beliefs as that \"a stone will\nfall, or fire burn\"; that Julius Caesar was murdered; that the sun will\nrise to-morrow; that all men are mortal He speaks as if experience did\nnot merely render such beliefs probable, but actually _proved_ them\nto be true. The \"arguments from experience\" in their favour are, he\nsays, such as \"leave no room for doubt or opposition.\" The only kinds\nof belief, which he definitely mentions as _not_ founded on experience,\nare \"popular superstitions\" on the one hand, and certain religious and\nphilosophical beliefs, on the other. He seems to suppose that a few (a\nvery few) religious beliefs may, perhaps, be founded on experience.\nBut as regards most of the specific doctrines of Christianity, for\nexample, he seems to be clear that they are not so founded. The belief\nin miracles is not founded on experience; nor is the philosophical\nbelief that every event is caused by the direct volition of the Deity.\nIn short, it would seem, that in this doctrine that our knowledge of\nunobserved facts is confined to such as are \"founded on experience,\"\nhe means to draw the line very much where it is drawn by the familiar\ndoctrine which is called \"Agnosticism.\" We can know such facts as\nare asserted in books on \"history, geography or astronomy,\" or on\n\"politics, physics and chemistry,\" because such assertions may be\n\"founded on experience\"; but we cannot know the greater part of the\nfacts asserted in books \"of divinity or school metaphysics,\" because\nsuch assertions have no foundation in experience.\n\nThis, I think, was clearly one of Hume's views. He meant to fix the\nlimits of our knowledge at a point which would _exclude_ most religious\npropositions and a great many philosophical ones, as incapable of being\nknown; but which would _include_ all the other kinds of propositions,\nwhich are most universally accepted by common-sense, as capable of\nbeing known. And he thought that, so far as matters of fact beyond the\nreach of our personal observation are concerned, this point coincided\nwith that at which the possibility of \"foundation on experience\"\nceases.\n\nBut, if we turn to another part of his work, we find a very different\nview suggested. In a quite distinct section of both his books, he\ninvestigates the beliefs which we entertain concerning the existence\nof \"external objects.\" And he distinguishes two different kinds of\nbelief which may be held on this subject. \"Almost all mankind, and\nphilosophers themselves, for the greatest part of their lives,\"\nbelieve, he says, that \"the very things they feel and see\" _are_\nexternal objects, in the sense that they continue to exist, even when\nwe cease to feel or see them. Philosophers, on the other hand, have\nbeen led to reject this opinion and to suppose (when they reflect)\nthat what we actually perceive by the senses never exists except when\nwe perceive it, but that there are other external objects, which do\nexist independently of us, and which _cause_ us to perceive what we do\nperceive. Hume investigates both of these opinions, at great length in\nthe _Treatise_, and much more briefly in the _Enquiry_, and comes to\nthe conclusion, in both books, that neither of them can be \"founded\non experience,\" in the sense he has defined. As regards the first of\nthem, the vulgar opinion, he does seem to admit in the _Treatise_ that\nit is, in a sense, founded on experience; but not, he insists, in\nthe sense defined. And he seems also to think that, apart from this\nfact, there are conclusive reasons for holding that the opinion cannot\nbe true. And as regards the philosophical opinion, he says that any\nbelief in external objects, which we never perceive but which cause our\nperceptions, cannot possibly be founded on experience, for the simple\nreason that if it were, we should need to have directly observed some\nof these objects and their \"conjunction\" with what we do perceive,\nwhich _ex hypothesi,_ we cannot have done, since we never do directly\nobserve any external object.\n\nHume, therefore, concludes, in this part of his work, that we cannot\nknow of the existence of any \"external object\" whatever. And though\nin all that he says upon this subject, he is plainly thinking only of\n_material_ objects, the principles by which he tries to prove that we\ncannot know these must, I think, prove equally well that we cannot\nknow any \"external object\" whatever--not even the existence of any\nother human mind. His argument is: We cannot directly observe any\nobject whatever, except such as exist only when we observe them; we\ncannot, therefore, observe any \"constant conjunctions\" except between\nobjects of this kind: and hence we can have no foundation in experience\nfor any proposition which asserts the existence of any other kind of\nobject, and cannot, therefore, know any such proposition to be true.\nAnd this argument must plainly apply to all the feelings, thoughts and\nperceptions of other men just as much as to material objects. I can\nnever know that any perception of mine, or anything which I do observe,\nmust have been caused by any other man, because I can never directly\nobserve a \"constant conjunction\" between any other man's thoughts\nor feelings or intentions and anything which I directly observe: I\ncannot, therefore, know that any other man ever had any thoughts or\nfeelings--or, in short, that any man beside myself ever existed. The\nview, therefore, which Hume suggests in this part of his work, flatly\ncontradicts the view which he at first seemed to hold. He now says we\n_cannot_ know that a stone will fall, that fire will burn, or the sun\nwill rise to-morrow. All that I can possibly know, according to his\npresent principles, is that _I shall see_ a stone fall, shall feel the\nfire burn, shall see the sun rise to-morrow. I cannot even know that\nany other men will see these things; for I cannot know that any other\nmen exist. For the same reason, I cannot know that Julius Caesar\nwas murdered, or that all men are mortal. For these are propositions\nasserting \"external\" facts--facts which don't exist only at the moment\nwhen I observe them; and, according to his present doctrine, I cannot\npossibly know any such proposition to be true. No man, in short, can\nknow any proposition about \"matters of fact\" to be true, except such\nas merely assert something about _his own_ states of mind, past,\npresent or future--about these or about what _he himself_ has directly\nobserved, is observing, or will observe.\n\nHere, therefore, we have a very different view suggested, as to the\nlimits of human knowledge. And even this is not all. There is yet a\nthird view, inconsistent with both of these, which Hume suggests in\nsome parts of his work.\n\nSo far as we have yet seen, he has not in any way contradicted his\noriginal supposition that we can know _some_ matters of fact, which we\nhave never ourselves observed. In the second theory, which I have just\nstated, he does not call in question the view that I can know all such\nmatters of fact as I know to be causally connected with facts which\nI have observed, nor the view that I can know some facts to be thus\ncausally connected. All that he has done is to question whether I can\nknow any _external_ fact to be causally connected with anything which\nI observe; he would still allow that I may be able to know that future\nstates of my own, or past states, which I have forgotten, are causally\nconnected with those which I now observe or remember; and that I may\nknow therefore, in some cases, what I shall experience in the future,\nor have experienced in the past but have now forgotten. But in some\nparts of his work he does seem to question whether any man can know\neven as much as this: he seems to question whether we can ever know any\nfact whatever to be causally connected with any other fact. For, after\nlaying it down, as we saw above, that we cannot know any fact, A, to be\ncausally connected with another, B, unless we have experienced in the\npast a constant conjunction between facts like A and facts like B, he\ngoes on to ask what foundation we have for the conclusion that A and B\n_are_ causally connected, even when we _have_ in the past experienced\na constant conjunction between them. He points out that from the fact\nthat A has been constantly conjoined with B in the past, it does not\nfollow that it ever will be so again. It does not follow, therefore,\nthat the two really are causally connected in the sense that, when the\none occurs, the other _always_ will occur also. And he concludes, for\nthis and other reasons, that _no argument_ can assure us that, because\nthey have been constantly conjoined in the past, therefore they really\nare causally connected. What, then, he asks, is the foundation for such\nan inference? _Custom,_ he concludes, is the only foundation. It is\nnothing but custom which induces us to believe that, because two facts\nhave been constantly conjoined on many occasions, therefore they will\nbe so on _all_ occasions. We have, therefore, no better foundation\nthan custom for any conclusion whatever as to facts which we have not\nobserved. And can we be said really to _know_ any fact, for which we\nhave no better foundation than this? Hume himself, it must be observed,\nnever says that we can't. But he has been constantly interpreted as if\nthe conclusion that we can't really know any one fact to be causally\nconnected with any other, did follow from this doctrine of his. And\nthere is, I think, certainly much excuse for this interpretation in the\ntone in which he speaks. He does seem to suggest that a belief which is\n_merely_ founded on custom, can scarcely be one which we _know_ to be\ntrue. And, indeed, he owns himself that, when he considers that this\nis our only foundation for any such belief, he is sometimes tempted\nto doubt whether we do know any fact whatever, except those which we\ndirectly observe. He does, therefore, at least suggest the view that\nevery man's knowledge is entirely confined to those facts, which he is\ndirectly observing at the moment, or which he has observed in the past,\nand now remembers.\n\nWe see, then, that Hume suggests, at least, three entirely different\nviews as to the consequences of his original doctrine. His original\ndoctrine was that, as regards matters of fact beyond the reach of our\nown actual observation, the knowledge of each of us is strictly limited\nto those for which we have a basis in our own experience. And his first\nview as to the consequences of this doctrine was that it does show us\nto be incapable of knowing a good many religious and philosophical\npropositions, which many men have claimed that they knew; but that it\nby no means denies our capacity of knowing the vast majority of facts\nbeyond our own observation, which we all commonly suppose that we know.\nHis second view, on the other hand, is that it cuts off at once all\npossibility of our knowing the vast majority of these facts; since he\nimplies that we cannot have any basis in experience for asserting any\n_external_ fact whatever--any fact, that is, except facts relating to\nour own actual past and future observations. And his third view is more\nsceptical still, since it suggests that we cannot really know any fact\nwhatever, beyond the reach of our present observation or memory, even\nwhere we _have_ a basis in experience for such a fact: it suggests that\nexperience cannot ever let us _know_ that any two things are causally\nconnected, and therefore that it cannot give us _knowledge_ of any fact\nbased on this relation.\n\nWhat are we to think of these three views, and of the original\ndoctrine from which Hume seems to infer them?\n\nAs regards the last two views, it may perhaps be thought that they\nare too absurd to deserve any serious consideration. It is, in fact,\nabsurd to suggest that I do not know any external facts whatever;\nthat I do not know, for instance, even that there are any men beside\nmyself. And Hume himself, it might seem, does not seriously expect or\nwish us to accept these views. He points out, with regard to all such\nexcessively sceptical opinions that we cannot continue to believe them\nfor long together--that, at least, we cannot, for long together, avoid\nbelieving things flatly inconsistent with them. The philosopher may\nbelieve, when he is philosophising, that no man knows of the existence\nof any other man or of any material object; but at other times he\nwill inevitably believe, as we all do, that he does know of the\nexistence of this man and of that, and even of this and that material\nobject. There can, therefore, be no question of making all our beliefs\nconsistent with such views as this of never believing anything that is\ninconsistent with them. And it may, therefore, seem useless to discuss\nthem. But in fact, it by no means follows that, because we are not able\nto adhere consistently to a given view, therefore that view is false;\nnor does it follow that we may not sincerely believe it, whenever we\nare philosophising, even though the moment we cease to philosophise, or\neven before, we may be forced to contradict it. And philosophers do,\nin fact, sincerely believe such things as this--things which flatly\ncontradict the vast majority of the things which they believe at other\ntimes. Even Hume, I think, does sincerely wish to persuade us that\nwe cannot know of the existence of external material objects--that\nthis is a philosophic truth, which we ought, if we can, so long as we\nare philosophising, to believe. Many people, I think, are certainly\ntempted, in their philosophic moments, to believe such things; and,\nsince this is so, it is, I think, worth while to consider seriously\nwhat arguments can be brought against such views. It is worth while to\nconsider whether they are views which we ought to hold as philosophical\nopinions, even if it be quite certain that we shall never be able to\nmake the views which we entertain at other times consistent with them.\nAnd it is the more worth while, because the question how we can prove\nor disprove such extreme views as these, has a bearing on the question\nhow we can, in any case whatever, prove or disprove that we do really\n_know,_ what we suppose ourselves to know.\n\nWhat arguments, then, are there for or against the extreme view that\nno man can know any external fact whatever; and the still more extreme\nview that no man can know any matter of fact whatever, except those\nwhich he is directly observing at the moment, or has observed in the\npast and now remembers?\n\nIt may be pointed out, in the first place, that, if these views are\ntrue, then at least no man can possibly know them to be so. What\nthese views assert is that I cannot know any external fact whatever.\nIt follows, therefore, that I cannot know that there are any other\nmen, beside myself, and that they are like me in this respect. Any\nphilosopher who asserts positively that other men, equally with\nhimself, are incapable of knowing any external facts, is, in that very\nassertion, contradicting himself, since he implies that he _does_ know\na great many facts about the knowledge of other men. No one, therefore,\ncan be entitled to assert positively that human knowledge is limited\nin this way, since, in asserting it positively, he is implying that\nhis own knowledge is not so limited. It cannot be proper, even in our\nphilosophic moments, to take up such an attitude as this.\n\nNo one, therefore, can know positively that men in general, are\nincapable of knowing external facts. But still, although we cannot\n_know_ it, it remains possible that the view should be a true one. Nay,\nmore, it remains possible that a man should know that _he himself_\nis incapable of knowing any external facts, and that, _if_ there are\nany other men whose faculties are only similar to his own, they also\nmust be incapable of knowing any. The argument just used obviously\ndoes not apply against such a position as this. It only applies\nagainst the position that men in general positively are incapable\nof knowing external facts: it does not apply against the position\nthat the philosopher himself is incapable of knowing any, or against\nthe position that there are _possibly_ other men in the same case,\nand that, if their faculties are similar to the philosopher's, they\ncertainly would be in it. I do not contradict myself by maintaining\npositively that _I_ know no external facts, though I do contradict\nmyself if I maintain that I am only one among other men, and that no\nman knows any external facts. So far, then, as Hume merely maintains\nthat _he_ is incapable of knowing any external facts, and that there\n_may_ be other men like him in this respect, the argument just used is\nnot valid against his position. Can any conclusive arguments be found\nagainst it?\n\nIt seems to me that such a position must, in a certain sense, be quite\nincapable of disproof. So much must be granted to any sceptic who feels\ninclined to hold it. Any valid argument which can be brought against\nit must be of the nature of a _petitio principii:_ it must beg the\nquestion at issue. How is the sceptic to prove to himself that he does\nknow any external facts? He can only do it by bringing forward some\ninstance of an external fact, which he does know; and, in assuming\nthat he does know this one, he is, of course, begging the question. It\nis therefore quite impossible for any one to _prove,_ in one strict\nsense of the term, that he does know any external facts. I can only\nprove that I do, by assuming that in some particular instance, I\nactually do know one. That is to say, the so-called proof must assume\nthe very thing which it pretends to prove. The only proof that we do\nknow external facts lies in the simple fact that we do know them. And\nthe sceptic can, with perfect internal consistency, deny that he does\nknow any. But it can, I think, be shown that he has no reason for\ndenying it. And in particular it may, I think, be easily seen that the\narguments which Hume uses in favour of this position have no conclusive\nforce.\n\nTo begin with, his arguments, in both cases, depend upon the two\noriginal assumptions, (1) that we cannot know any fact, which we\nhave not observed, unless we know it to be causally connected with\nsome fact which we have observed, and (2) that we have no reason for\nassuming any causal connection, except where we have experienced some\ninstances of conjunction between the two facts connected. And both of\nthese assumptions may, of course, be denied. It is just as easy to deny\nthem, as to deny that I do know any external facts. And, if these two\nassumptions did really lead to the conclusion that I cannot know any,\nit would, I think, be proper to deny them: we might fairly regard the\nfact that they led to this absurd conclusion as disproving them. But,\nin fact, I think it may be easily seen that they do not lead to it.\n\nLet us consider, first of all, Hume's most sceptical argument (the\nargument which he merely suggests). This argument suggests that, since\nour only reason for supposing two facts to be causally connected is\nthat we have found them constantly conjoined in the past, and since\nit does not follow from the fact that they have been conjoined ever\nso many times, that they _always_ will be so, therefore we cannot\n_know_ that they always will be so, and hence cannot know that they are\ncausally connected. But obviously the conclusion does not follow. We\nmust, I think, grant the premiss that, from the fact that two things\nhave been conjoined, no matter how often, it does not strictly _follow_\nthat they _always_ are conjoined. But it by no means follows from this\nthat we may not _know_ that, as a matter of fact, when two things are\nconjoined sufficiently often, they are also _always_ conjoined. We\nmay quite well _know_ many things which do not logically follow from\nanything else which we know. And so, in this case, we may _know_ that\ntwo things are causally connected, although this does not logically\nfollow from our past experience, nor yet from anything else that we\nknow. And, as for the contention that our belief in causal connections\nis merely based on _custom,_ we may, indeed, admit that custom would\nnot be a sufficient _reason_ for concluding the belief to be true.\nBut the mere fact (if it be a fact) that the belief is only caused by\ncustom, is also no sufficient reason for concluding that we can _not_\nknow it to be true. Custom _may_ produce beliefs, which we do know to\nbe true, even though it be admitted that it does not _necessarily_\nproduce them.\n\nAnd as for Hume's argument to prove that we can never know any\n_external_ object to be causally connected with anything which we\nactually observe, it is, I think, obviously fallacious. In order\nto prove this, he has, as he recognises, to disprove both of two\ntheories. He has, first of all, to disprove what he calls the vulgar\ntheory--the theory that we can know the very things which we see or\nfeel to be external objects; that is to say, can know that these very\nthings exist at times when we do not observe them. And even here, I\nthink, his arguments are obviously inconclusive. But we need not stay\nto consider them, because, in order to prove that we cannot know any\nexternal objects, he has also to disprove what he calls the philosophic\ntheory--the theory that we can know things which we do observe, to be\ncaused by external objects which we never observe. If, therefore, his\nattempt to disprove this theory fails, his proof that we cannot know\nany external objects also fails; and I think it is easy to see that\nhis disproof does fail. It amounts merely to this: That we cannot, _ex\nhypothesi,_ ever observe these supposed external objects, and therefore\ncannot observe them to be constantly conjoined with any objects which\nwe do observe. But what follows from this? His own theory about the\nknowledge of causal connection is not that in order to know A to be the\ncause of B, we must have observed A _itself_ to be conjoined with B;\nbut only that we must have observed objects _like_ A to be constantly\nconjoined with objects _like_ B. And what is to prevent an external\nobject from being _like_ some object which we have formerly observed?\nSuppose I have frequently observed a fact _like A_ to be conjoined with\na fact _like_ B: and suppose I now observe B, on an occasion when I do\nnot observe anything like A. There is no reason, on Hume's principles,\nwhy I should not conclude that A does exist on this occasion, even\nthough I do not observe it; and that it is, therefore, an external\nobject. It will, of course, differ from any object which I have ever\nobserved, in respect of the simple fact that it is _not_ observed by\nme, whereas they were. There is, therefore, this one respect in which\nit must be _unlike_ anything which I have ever observed. But Hume has\nnever said anything to show that unlikeness in this single respect is\nsufficient to invalidate the inference. It may quite well be like\nobjects which I have observed in all other respects; and this degree\nof likeness may, according to his principles, be quite sufficient to\njustify us in concluding its existence. In short, when Hume argues that\nwe cannot possibly learn by experience of the existence of any external\nobjects, he is, I think, plainly committing the fallacy of supposing\nthat, because we cannot, _ex hypothesis_ have ever observed any object\nwhich actually is \"external,\" therefore we can never have observed\nany object _like_ an external one. But plainly we may have observed\nobjects like them in all respects except the single one that these\nhave been observed whereas the others have not. And even a less degree\nof likeness than this would, according to his principles, be quite\nsufficient to justify an inference of causal connection.\n\nHume does not, therefore, bring forward any arguments at all sufficient\nto prove either that he cannot know any one object to be causally\nconnected with any other or that he cannot know any external fact. And,\nindeed, I think it is plain that no conclusive argument could possibly\nbe advanced in favour of these positions. It would always be at least\nas easy to deny the argument as to deny that we do know external facts.\nWe may, therefore, each one of us, safely conclude that we do know\nexternal facts; and, if we do, then there is no reason why we should\nnot also know that other men do the same. There is no reason why we\nshould not, in this respect, make our philosophical opinions agree with\nwhat we necessarily believe at other times. There is no reason why I\nshould not confidently assert that I do really _know_ some external\nfacts, although I cannot prove the assertion except by simply assuming\nthat I do. I am, in fact, as certain of this as of anything; and as\nreasonably certain of it. But just as I am certain that I do know\n_some_ external facts, so I am also certain that there are others which\nI do not know. And the question remains: Does the line between the\ntwo fall, where Hume says it falls? Is it true that the only external\nfacts I know are facts for which I have a basis in my own experience?\nAnd that I cannot know any facts whatever, beyond the reach of my own\nobservation and memory, except those for which I have such a basis?\n\nThis, it seems to me, is the most serious question which Hume raises.\nAnd it should be observed that his own attitude towards it is very\ndifferent from his attitude towards the sceptical views which we\nhave just been considering. These sceptical views he did not expect\nor wish us to accept, except in philosophic moments. He declares\nthat we cannot, in ordinary life, avoid believing things which are\ninconsistent with them; and, in so declaring, he, of course, implies\nincidentally that they are false: since he implies that he himself\nhas a great deal of knowledge as to what we can and cannot believe in\nordinary life. But, as regards the view that our knowledge of matters\nof fact beyond our own observation is entirely confined to such as are\nfounded on experience, he never suggests that it is impossible that\nall our beliefs should be consistent with this view, and he does seem\nto think it eminently desirable that they should be. He declares that\nany assertion with regard to such matters, which is not founded on\nexperience, can be nothing but \"sophistry and illusion\"; and that all\nbooks which are composed of such assertions should be \"committed to the\nflames.\" He seems, therefore, to think that here we really have a test\nby which we may determine what we should or should not believe, on all\noccasions: any view on such matters, for which we have no foundation in\nexperience, is a view which we cannot know to be even probably true,\nand which we should _never_ accept, if we can help it. Is there any\njustification for this strong view?\n\nIt is, of course, abstractly possible that we do really know, _without_\nthe help of experience, some matters of fact, which we never have\nobserved. Just as we know matters of fact, which we _have_ observed,\nwithout the need of any further evidence, and just as we know, for\ninstance, that 2+2=4, without the need of any proof, it is possible\nthat we may know, directly and immediately, without the need of any\nbasis in experience, some facts which we never have observed. This\nis certainly possible, in the same sense in which it is possible\nthat I do not really know any external facts: no conclusive disproof\ncan be brought against either position. We must make assumptions as\nto what facts we do know and do not know, before we can proceed to\ndiscuss whether or not all of the former are based on experience; and\nnone of these assumptions can, in the last resort, be conclusively\nproved. We may offer one of them in proof of another; but it will\nalways be possible to dispute the one which we offer in proof. But\nthere are, in fact, certain kinds of things which we universally\nassume that we do know or do not know, just as we assume that we do\nknow some external facts; and if among all the things which we know\nas certainly as this, there should turn out to be none for which we\nhave no basis in experience, Hume's view would I think, be as fully\nproved as it is capable of being. The question is: Can it be proved\nin this sense? Among all the facts beyond our own observation, which\nwe know most certainly, are there any which are certainly not based\nupon experience? For my part, I confess, I cannot feel certain what\nis the right answer to this question: I cannot tell whether Hume was\nright or wrong. But if he was wrong--if there are any matters of fact,\nbeyond our own observation, which we know for certain, and which yet\nwe know directly and immediately, without any basis in experience, we\nare, I think, faced with an eminently interesting problem. For it is,\nI think, as certain as anything can be that there are _some_ kinds of\nfacts with regard to which Hume was right--that there are _some_ kinds\nof facts which we cannot know without the evidence of experience.\nI could not know, for instance, without some such evidence, such a\nfact as that Julius Caesar was murdered. For such a fact I must, in\nthe first instance, have the evidence of other persons; and if I am\nto know that their evidence is trustworthy, I must have some ground\nin experience for supposing it to be so. There are, therefore, some\nkinds of facts which we cannot know without the evidence of experience\nand observation. And if it is to be maintained that there are others,\nwhich we can know without any such evidence, it ought to be pointed out\nexactly what kind of facts these are, and in what respects they differ\nfrom those which we cannot know without the help of experience. Hume\ngives us a very clear division of the kinds of propositions which we\ncan know to be true. There are, first of all, some propositions which\nassert \"relations of ideas \"; there are, secondly, propositions which\nassert \"matters of fact\" which we ourselves are actually observing, or\nhave observed and now remember; and there are, thirdly, propositions\nwhich assert \"matters of fact\" which we have never actually observed,\nbut for believing in which we have some foundation in our past\nobservations. And it is, I think, certain that some propositions, which\nwe know as certainly as we know anything, do belong to each of these\nthree classes. I know, for instance, that twice two are four; I know\nby direct observation that I am now seeing these words, that I am\nwriting, and by memory that this afternoon I saw St. Paul's; and I know\nalso that Julius Caesar was murdered, and I have some foundation in\nexperience for this belief, though I did not myself witness the murder.\nDo any of those propositions, which we know as certainly as we know\nthese and their like, _not_ belong to either of these three classes?\nMust we add a fourth class consisting of propositions which resemble\nthe two last, in respect of the fact that they do assert \"matters of\nfact,\" but which differ from them, in that we know them neither by\ndirect observation nor by memory, nor yet as a result of previous\nobservations? There may, perhaps, be such a fourth class; but, if there\nis, it is, I think, eminently desirable that it should be pointed out\nexactly what propositions they are which we do know in this way; and\nthis, so far as I know, has never yet been done, at all clearly, by any\nphilosopher.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STATUS OF SENSE-DATA\n\n\nThe term \"sense-data\" is ambiguous; and therefore I think I had better\nbegin by trying to explain what the class of entities is whose status I\npropose to discuss.\n\nThere are several different classes of mental events, all of which,\nowing to their intrinsic resemblance to one another in certain\nrespects, may, in a wide sense, be called \"sensory experiences,\"\nalthough only some among them would usually be called \"sensations.\"\nThere are (1) those events, happening in our minds while we are\nawake, which consist in the experiencing of one of those entities,\nwhich are usually called \"images,\" in the narrowest sense of the\nterm. Everybody distinguishes these events from sensations proper;\nand yet everybody admits that \"images\" intrinsically resemble the\nentities which are experienced in sensations proper in some very\nimportant respect. There are (2) the sensory experiences we have in\ndreams, some of which would certainly be said to be experiences of\nimages, while others might be said to be sensations. There are (3)\nhallucinations, and certain classes of illusory sensory experiences.\nThere are (4) those experiences, which used to be called the having\nof \"after-images,\" but which psychologists now say ought rather to\nbe called \"after-sensations.\" And there are, finally, (5) that class\nof sensory experiences, which are immensely commoner than any of the\nabove, and which may be called _sensations proper_, if we agree to use\nthis term in such a way as to exclude experiences of my first four\nsorts.\n\nEvery event, of any one of these five classes, consists in the fact\nthat an entity, of some kind or other, _is experienced._ The entity\nwhich is experienced may be of many different kinds; it may, for\ninstance, be a patch of colour, or a sound, or a smell, or a taste,\netc; or it may be an image of a patch of colour, an image of a\nsound, an image of a smell, an image of a taste, etc. But, whatever\nbe its nature, the entity which _is_ experienced must in all cases\nbe distinguished from the fact or event which consists in its being\nexperienced; since by saying that it is experienced we mean that it\nhas a relation of a certain kind to something else. We can, therefore,\nspeak not only of _experiences_ of these five kinds, but also of the\nentities which _are experienced in_ experiences of these kinds; and\nthe entity which is experienced _in_ such an experience is never\nidentical with the experience which consists in its being experienced.\nBut we can speak not only of the entities which _are_ experienced in\nexperiences of this kind, but also of _the sort_ of entities which are\nexperienced in experiences of this kind; and these two classes may\nagain be different. For a patch of colour, even if it were not actually\nexperienced, would be an entity _of the same sort_ as some which are\nexperienced in experiences of this kind: and there is no contradiction\nin supposing that there are patches of colour, which yet are not\nexperienced; since by calling a thing a patch of colour we merely make\na statement about its intrinsic quality, and in no way assert that\nit has to anything else any of the relations which may be meant by\nsaying that it is experienced. In speaking, therefore, of _the sort\nof_ entities which are experienced in experiences of the five kinds I\nhave mentioned, we do not necessarily confine ourselves to those which\nactually _are_ experienced in some such experience: we leave it an open\nquestion whether the two classes are identical or not. And the class\nof entities, whose status I wish to discuss, consists precisely of all\nthose, whether experienced or not, which are _of the same sort_ as\nthose which are experienced in experiences of these five kinds.\n\nI intend to call this class of entities the class of _sensibles_; so\nthat the question I am to discuss can be expressed in the form: What\nis the status of sensibles? And it must be remembered that images and\nafter-images are just as much \"sensibles,\" in my sense of the term, as\nthe entities which are experienced in sensations proper; and so, too,\nare any patches of colour, or sounds, or smells, etc, (if such there\nbe), which are not experienced at all.\n\nIn speaking of sensibles as _the sort of_ entities which are\nexperienced in sensory experiences I seem to imply that all the\nentities which are experienced in sensory experiences have some\ncommon characteristic other than that which consists in their being\nso experienced. And I cannot help thinking that this is the case,\nin spite of the fact that it is difficult to see what intrinsic\ncharacter can be shared in common by entities so different from one\nanother as are patches of colour, sounds, smells, tastes, etc. For,\nso far as I can see, some non-sensory experiences may be exactly\nsimilar to sensory ones in all intrinsic respects, except that what\nis experienced in them is different in kind from what is experienced\nin any sensory experience: the relation meant by saying that in them\nsomething _is experienced_ may be exactly the same in kind, and so may\nthe experient. And, if this be so, it seems to compel us to admit that\nthe distinction between sensory and non-sensory experiences is derived\nfrom that between sensibles, and non-sensibles and not _vice vers\u00e2._ I\nam inclined, therefore, to think that all sensibles, in spite of the\ngreat differences between them, have some common intrinsic property,\nwhich we recognise, but which is unanalysable; and that, when we call\nan experience sensory, what we mean is not only that in it something\nis experienced in a particular way, but also that this something has\nthis unanalysable property. If this be so, the ultimate definition of\n\"sensibles\" would be merely all entities which have this unanalysable\nproperty.\n\nIt seems to me that the term \"sense-data\" is often used, and may be\ncorrectly used, simply as a synonym for \"sensibles\"; and everybody,\nI think, would expect me, in discussing the status of sense-data,\nto discuss, among other things, the question whether there are any\nsensibles which are not \"given.\" It is true that the etymology of the\nterm \"sense-data\" suggests that nothing should be called a sense-datum,\nbut what _is_ given; so that to talk of a non-given sense-datum would\nbe a contradiction in terms. But, of course, etymology is no safe guide\neither as to the actual or the correct use of terms; and it seems to me\nthat the term \"sense-data\" is often, and quite properly, used merely\nfor _the sort of_ entities that are given in sense, and not in any way\nlimited to those which are actually given. But though I think I might\nthus have used \"sense-data\" quite correctly instead of \"sensibles,\"\nI think the latter term is perhaps more convenient; because though\nnobody ought to be misled by etymologies, so many people in fact are\nso. Moreover the term \"sense-data\" is sometimes limited in yet another\nway, viz, to the sort of sensibles which are experienced in _sensations\nproper_; so that in this sense \"images\" would not be \"sense-data.\"\nFor both these reasons, I think it is perhaps better to drop the term\n\"sense-data\" altogether, and to speak only of \"sensibles.\"\n\nMy discussion of the status of sensibles will be divided into two\nparts. I shall first consider how, in certain respects, they are\nrelated to our minds; and then I shall consider how, in certain\nrespects, they are related to physical objects.\n\n\n(I)\n\n\n(1) We can, I think, distinguish pretty clearly at least one kind\nof relation which sensibles, of all the kinds I have mentioned, do\nundoubtedly sometimes have to our minds.\n\nI do now see certain blackish marks on a whitish ground, and I hear\ncertain sounds which I attribute to the ticking of my clock. In both\ncases I have to certain sensibles--certain blackish marks, in the one\ncase, and certain sounds, in the other--a kind of relation with which\nwe are all perfectly familiar, and which may be expressed, in the one\ncase, by saying that I actually _see_ the marks, and in the other, by\nsaying that I actually _hear_ the sounds. It seems to me quite evident\nthat the relation to the marks which I express by saying that I _see_\nthem, is not different in kind from the relation to the sounds which\nI express by saying that I _hear_ them. \"Seeing\" and \"hearing,\" when\nthus used as names for a relation which we may have to sensibles, are\nnot names for different relations, but merely express the fact that,\nin the one case, the kind of sensible to which I have a certain kind\nof relation is a patch of colour, while, in the other case, the kind\nof sensible to which I have the same kind of relation is a sound. And\nsimilarly when I say that I feel warm or smell a smell these different\nverbs do not express the fact that I have a different kind of relation\nto the sensibles concerned, but only that I have the _same_ kind of\nrelation to a different kind of sensible. Even when I call up a visual\nimage of a sensible I saw yesterday, or an auditory image of a sound\nI heard yesterday, I have to those images exactly the same kind of\nrelation which I have to the patches of colour I now see and which I\nhad yesterday to those I saw then.\n\nBut this kind of relation, which I sometimes have to sensibles of\nall sorts of different kinds, images as well as others, is evidently\nquite different in kind from another relation which I may also have\nto sensibles. After looking at this black mark, I may turn away my\nhead or close my eyes, and then I no longer _actually see_ the mark I\nsaw just now. I may, indeed, have (I myself actually do have at this\nmoment) a visual _image_ of the mark before my mind; and to this image\nI do now have exactly the same kind of relation which I had just now\nto the mark itself. But the image is not identical with the mark of\nwhich it is an image; and to the mark itself it is quite certain that\nI have _not_ now got the same kind of relation as I had just now, when\nI was actually seeing it. And yet I certainly may _now_ have to that\nmark itself a kind of relation, which may be expressed by saying that\nI am _thinking of_ it or remembering it. I can _now_ make judgments\nabout _it itself_--the very sensible which I did see just now and am no\nlonger seeing: as, for instance, that I did then see it and that it was\ndifferent from the image of it which I am now seeing. It is, therefore,\nquite certain that there is a most important difference between the\nrelation I have to a sensible when I am actually seeing or hearing it,\nand any relation (for there may be several) which I may have to the\nsame sensible when I am only thinking or or remembering it. And I want\nto express this difference by using a particular term for the former\nrelation. I shall express this relation, which I certainly do have to\na sensible when I actually see or hear it, and most certainly do not\nhave to it, when I only think of or remember it, by saying that there\nis in my mind a _direct apprehension_ of it. I have expressly chosen\nthis term because, so far as I know, it has not been used hitherto as\na technical term; whereas all the terms which have been so used, such\nas \"presented,\" \"given,\" \"perceived,\" seem to me to have been spoilt\nby ambiguity. People sometimes, no doubt, use these terms as names for\nthe kind of relation I am concerned with. But you can never be sure,\nwhen an entity is said to be \"given\" or \"presented\" or \"perceived,\"\nthat what is meant is simply and solely that it has to someone that\nrelation which sensibles do undoubtedly have to me when I actually see\nor hear them, and which they do _not_ have to me when I only think of\nor remember them.\n\nI have used the rather awkward expression \"There is in my mind a\ndirect apprehension of this black mark,\" because I want to insist that\nthough, when I see the mark, the mark certainly has to _something_\nthe fundamental relation which I wish to express by saying that it is\ndirectly apprehended, and though the event which consists in its being\ndirectly apprehended by that something is certainly a mental act of\n_mine_ or which occurs in my mind, yet the something which directly\napprehends it may quite possibly not be anything which deserves to be\ncalled \"I\" or \"me.\" It is quite possible, I think, that there is _no_\nentity whatever which deserves to be called \"I\" or \"me\" or \"my mind\";\nand hence that nothing whatever is ever directly apprehended by _me._\nWhether this is so or not, depends on the nature of that relation which\ncertainly does hold between all those mental acts which are _mine_, and\ndoes not hold between any of mine and any of yours; and which holds\nagain between all those mental acts which are yours, but does not hold\nbetween any of yours and any of mine. And I do not feel at all sure\nwhat the correct analysis of this relation is. It may be the case\nthat the relation which unites all those acts of direct apprehension\nwhich are mine, and which is what we mean to say that they have to one\nanother when we say they are all mine, really does consist in the fact\nthat one and the same entity is _what_ directly apprehends in each of\nthem: in which case this entity could properly be called \"me,\" and it\n_would_ be true to say that, when I see this black mark, _I_ directly\napprehend it. But it is also quite possible (and this seems to me to\nbe the view which is commonest amongst psychologists) that the entity\nwhich directly apprehends, in those acts of direct apprehension which\nare mine, is numerically different in every different act; and that\nwhat I mean by calling all these different acts _mine_ is either merely\nthat they have some kind of relation to _one another_ or that they\nall have a common relation to some other entity, external to them,\nwhich may or may not be something which deserves to be called \"me.\"\nOn any such view, what I assert to be true of this black mark, when\nI say that it is seen by me, would not be simply that it is directly\napprehended by me, but something more complex in which, besides\ndirect apprehension, some other quite different relation was also\ninvolved. I should be asserting _both_ (1) that the black mark is being\ndirectly apprehended by _something_, _and_ (2) that this act of direct\napprehension has to something else, external to it, a quite different\nrelation, which is what makes it an act of _mine._ I do not know how to\ndecide between these views, and that is why I wished to explain that\nthe fundamental relation which I wish to call direct apprehension, is\none which quite possibly never holds between _me_ and any sensible.\nBut, once this has been explained, I think no harm can result from\nusing the expression \"I directly apprehend A\" as a synonym for \"A\ndirect apprehension of A occurs in my mind.\" And in future I shall so\nspeak, because it is much more convenient.\n\nThe only other point, which seems to me to need explanation, in order\nto make it quite clear what the relation I call \"direct apprehension\"\nis, concerns its relation to _attention_; and as to this I must confess\nI don't feel clear. In every case where it is quite clear to me that\nI am directly apprehending a given entity, it seems also clear to me\nthat I am, more or less, attending to it; and it seems to me possible\nthat what I mean by \"direct apprehension\" may be simply identical with\nwhat is meant by \"attention,\" in _one_ of the senses in which that word\ncan be used. That it can, at most, only be identical with _one_ of the\nrelations meant by attention seems to me clear, because I certainly\ncan be said to attend, in some sense or other, to entities, which I am\nnot directly apprehending: I may, for instance, think, with attention,\nof a sensible, which I saw yesterday, and am certainly not seeing now.\nIt is, therefore, clear that to say I am attending to a thing and yet\nam _not_ directly apprehending it, is not a contradiction in terms:\nand this fact alone is sufficient to justify the use of the special\nterm \"direct apprehension.\" But whether to say that I am directly\napprehending a given thing and yet am _not_ attending to it, in any\ndegree at all, is or is not a contradiction in terms, I admit I don't\nfeel clear.\n\nHowever that may be, one relation, in which sensibles of all sorts do\nsometimes stand to our minds, is the relation constituted by the fact\nthat we directly apprehend them: or, to speak more accurately, by the\nfact that events which consist in their being directly apprehended are\n_in_ our minds, in the sense in which to say that an event is _in_ our\nminds means merely that it is a mental act of _ours_--that it has to\nour other mental acts that relation (whatever it may be) which we mean\nby saying that they are all mental acts _of the same individual._ And\nit is clear that to say of a sensible that it is directly apprehended\nby me, is to say of it something quite different from what I say of a\nmental act of mine, when I say that this _mental act is in my mind_:\nfor nothing is more certain than that an act of direct apprehension or\nbelief may be in my mind, without being itself directly apprehended\nby me. If, therefore, by saying that a sensible is _in our minds_\nor is _ours,_ we mean merely that it is directly apprehended by us,\nwe must recognise that we are here using the phrases \"in our minds\"\nor \"ours\" in quite a different sense from that in which we use them\nwhen we talk of our mental acts being \"in our minds\" or \"ours.\" And\nwhy I say this is because I think that these two relations are very\napt to be confused. When, for instance, we say of a given entity that\nit is \"experienced,\" or when the Germans say that it is \"erlebt,\" it\nis sometimes meant, I think, merely that it is directly apprehended,\nbut sometimes that it is in my mind, in the sense in which, when I\nentertain a belief, this act of belief is in my mind.\n\nBut (2) it seems to me to be commonly held that sensibles are often\nin our minds in some sense quite other than that of being directly\napprehended by us or that of being thought of by us. This seems to me\nto be often what is meant when people say that they are \"immediately\nexperienced\" or are \"subjective modifications\"; though, of course,\nboth expressions are so ambiguous, that when people say that a given\nentity is immediately experienced or is a subjective modification, they\n_may_ mean merely that it is directly apprehended. And since I think\nthis view is held, I want to explain that I see no reason whatever for\nthinking that sensibles ever are experienced by us in any other sense\nthan that of being directly apprehended by us. Two kinds of argument,\nI think, are sometimes used to show that they are.\n\n(_a_) It is a familiar fact that, when, for instance, we are in a room\nwith a ticking clock, we may seem suddenly to become aware of the\nticks, whereas, so far as we can tell, we had previously not heard\nthem at all. And it may be urged that in these cases, since the same\nkind of stimulus was acting on our ears all the time, we must have\n_experienced_ the same kind of sensible sounds, although we did not\ndirectly apprehend them.\n\nBut I think most psychologists are now agreed that this argument is\nquite worthless. There seem to me to be two possible alternatives to\nthe conclusion drawn. It may, I think, possibly be the case that we\ndid directly apprehend the ticks all the time, but that we cannot\nafterwards remember that we did, because the degree of attention (if\nany) with which we heard them was so small, that in ordinary life we\nshould say that we did not attend to them at all. But, what, I think,\nis much more likely is that, though the same stimulus was acting on\nour ears, it failed to produce any mental effect whatever, because our\nattention was otherwise engaged.\n\n(_b_) It is said that sometimes when we suddenly become aware, say,\nof the eighth stroke of a striking clock, we can _remember_ earlier\nstrokes, although we seem to ourselves _not_ to have directly\napprehended them. I cannot say that I have ever noticed this experience\nin myself, but I have no doubt that it is possible. And people seem\ninclined to argue that, since we can remember the earlier strokes, we\nmust have experienced them, though we did not directly apprehend them.\n\nBut here again, the argument does not seem to me at all conclusive. I\nshould say, again, that it is possible that we did directly apprehend\nthem, but only with a very slight degree of attention (if any). And,\nas an alternative, I should urge that there is no reason why we should\nnot be able to remember a thing, which we never experienced at all.\n\nI do not know what other arguments can be used to show that we\nsometimes _experience_ sensibles in a sense quite other than that of\ndirectly apprehending them. But I do not know how to show that we do\nnot; and since people whose judgment I respect, seem to hold that we\ndo, I think it is worth while to say something as to what this sense of\n\"experience\" can be, in case it does occur.\n\nI have said that sometimes when people say that a given entity is\n\"experienced\" they seem to mean that it belongs to some individual,\nin the sense in which my acts of belief belong to me. To say that\nsensibles were experienced by me in this sense would, therefore, be to\nsay that they sometimes have to my acts of belief and acts of direct\napprehension the same relation which these have to one another--the\nrelation which constitutes them _mine._ But that sensibles ever have\nthis kind of relation to my mental acts, is a thing which I cannot\nbelieve. Those who hold that they are ever experienced at all, in some\nsense other than that of being directly apprehended, always hold, I\nthink, that, whenever they are directly apprehended by us, they also,\nat the same time, have to us this other relation as well. And it seems\nto me pretty clear that when I do directly apprehend a sensible, it\ndoes _not_ have to me the same relation which my direct apprehension of\nit has.\n\nIf, therefore, sensibles are ever experienced by us at all, in any\nsense other than that of being directly apprehended by us, we must, I\nthink, hold that they are so in an entirely new sense, quite different\nboth from that in which to be experienced means to be directly\napprehended, and from that in which to be experienced means to occur\nin some individual's mind. And I can only say that I see no reason to\nthink that they ever are experienced in any such sense. If they are,\nthe fact that they are so is presumably open to the inspection of us\nall; but I cannot distinguish any such fact as occurring in myself, as\nI can distinguish the fact that they are directly apprehended. On the\nother hand, I see no way of showing that they are _not_ experienced in\nsome such sense; and perhaps somebody will be able to point it out to\nme. I do not wish to assume, therefore, that there _is_ no such sense;\nand hence, though I am inclined to think that the _only_ sense in which\nthey are experienced is that of being directly apprehended, I shall, in\nwhat follows, use the phrase \"experienced\" to mean _either_ directly\napprehended _or_ having to something this supposed different relation,\nif such a relation there be.\n\n(3) We may now, therefore, raise the question: Do sensibles ever exist\nat times when they are not being experienced at all?\n\nTo this question it is usual to give a negative answer, and two\ndifferent _a priori_ reasons may be urged in favour of that answer.\n\nThe first is what should be meant by Berkeley's dictum that the _esse_\nof sensibles is _percipi._ This should mean, whatever else it may mean,\nat least this: that to suppose a sensible to exist and yet _not_ to\nbe experienced in self-contradictory. And this at least seems to me\nto be clearly false. Anything which was a patch of colour would be a\nsensible; and to suppose that there are patches of colour which are not\nbeing experienced is clearly not self-contradictory, however false it\nmay be.\n\nIt may, however, be urged (and this is the second argument) that,\nthough to suppose a thing to be a sensible and _yet_ not experienced is\nnot self-contradictory, yet we can clearly see that nothing can have\nthe one property without having the other. And I do not see my way to\ndeny that we may be able to know, _a priori_ that such a connection\nholds between two such properties. In the present case, however, I\ncannot see that it does hold, and therefore, so far as _a priori_\nreasons go, I conclude that there is no reason why sensibles should not\nexist at times when they are not experienced.\n\nIt may, however, be asked: Is there any reason to suppose that they\never do? And the reason, which weighs with me most, is one which\napplies, I think, to a certain class of sensibles _only_; a class\nwhich I will try to define by saying that it consists of those which\n_would_ (under certain conditions which actually exist) be experienced\nin a _sensation proper, if only_ a living body, having a certain\nconstitution, existed under those conditions in a position in which no\nsuch body does actually exist. I think it is very probable that this\ndefinition does not define at all accurately the kind of sensibles I\nmean; but I think that what the definition aims at will become clearer\nwhen I proceed to give my reasons for supposing that sensibles, of a\nkind to be defined in _some_ such way, do exist unexperienced. The\nreason is simply that, in Hume's phrase, I have \"a strong propensity\nto believe\" that, _e.g.,_ the visual sensibles which I directly\napprehend in looking at this paper, still exist unchanged when I merely\nalter the position of my body by turning away my head or closing my\neyes, _provided_ that the physical conditions outside my body remain\nunchanged. In such a case it is certainly true in some sense that I\n_should_ see sensibles like what I saw the moment before, _if only_\nmy head were still in the position it was at that moment or my eyes\nunclosed. But if, in such a case, there is reason to think that\nsensibles which I should see, if the position of my body were altered,\nexist in spite of the fact that I do not experience them, there is,\nI think, an equal reason to suppose it in other cases. We must, for\ninstance, suppose that the sensibles which I should see now, if I were\nat the other end of the room, or if I were looking under the table,\nexist at this moment, though they are not being experienced. And\nsimilarly we must suppose that the sensibles which _you_ would see, if\nyou were in the position in which I am now, exist at this moment, in\nspite of the fact that they may be more or less different from those\nwhich I see, owing to the different constitution of our bodies. All\nthis implies of course, that a vast number of sensibles exist at any\nmoment, which are not being experienced at all. But still it implies\nthis only with regard to sensibles of a strictly limited class, namely\nsensibles which would be experienced _in a sensation proper,_ if a\nbody, having a certain constitution, were in a position in which it is\nnot, under the given physical conditions. It does not, for instance,\nimply that any _images,_ of which it may be true that I _should_\nhave them, under present physical conditions, if the position of my\nbody were altered, exist now; nor does it imply that sensibles which\n_would_ be experienced by me now in a sensation proper, if the physical\nconditions external to my body were different from what they are, exist\nnow.\n\nI feel, of course, that I have only succeeded in defining miserably\nvaguely the kind of sensibles I mean; and I do not know whether the\nfact that I have a strong propensity to believe that sensibles of a\nkind to be defined in some such way, do exist unexperienced, is any\ngood reason for supposing that they actually do. The belief may, of\ncourse, be a mere prejudice. But I do not know of any certain test by\nwhich prejudices can be distinguished from reasonable beliefs. And I\ncannot help thinking that there may be a class of sensibles, capable\nof definition in _some_ such way, which there really is reason to\nthink exist unexperienced.\n\nBut, if I am not mistaken, there is an empirical argument which,\nthough, even if it were sound, it would have no tendency whatever to\nshow that _no_ sensibles exist unexperienced, would, if it were sound,\nshow that this very class of sensibles, to which alone my argument for\nunexperienced existence applies, certainly do not so exist. This, it\nseems to me, is the most weighty argument which can be used upon the\nsubject; and I want, therefore, to give my reasons for thinking that it\nis fallacious.\n\nThe argument is one which asserts that there is abundant empirical\nevidence in favour of the view that the existence of the sensibles\nwhich we experience at any time, always depends upon the condition of\nour nervous system: so that, even where it also depends upon external\nphysical conditions, we can safely say that sensibles, which we should\nhave experienced, if only our nervous system had been in a different\ncondition, certainly do not exist, when it is not in that condition.\nAnd the fallacy of this argument seems to me to lie in the fact that\nit does not distinguish between the existence of the sensibles _which_\nwe experience and _the fact that we experience them._ What there _is_\nevidence for is that _our experience_ of sensibles always depends upon\nthe condition of our nervous system; that, according as the condition\nof the nervous system changes, different sensibles are _experienced_,\neven where other conditions are the same. But obviously the fact that\nour experience of a given sensible depends upon the condition of our\nnervous system does not directly show that the existence of _the\nsensible experienced_ always also so depends. The fact that I am now\nexperiencing this black mark is certainly a different fact from the\nfact that this black mark now exists. And hence the evidence which\ndoes tend to show that the former fact would not have existed if my\nnervous system had been in a different condition, has no tendency to\nshow that the latter would not have done so either. I am sure that this\ndistinction ought to be made; and hence, though I think there may be\nother reasons for thinking that the very existence of the sensibles,\nwhich we experience, and not merely the fact that we experience them\n_does_ always depend upon the condition of our nervous systems, it\nseems to me certain that this particular argument constitutes no such\nreason.\n\nAnd I think that those who suppose that it does are apt to be\ninfluenced by an assumption, for which also, so far as I can see,\nthere is no reason. I have admitted that the only reason I can see for\nsupposing that sensibles which we experience ever exist unexperienced,\nseems to lead to the conclusion that the sensibles which would be seen\nby a colour-blind man, if he occupied exactly the position which I, who\nam not colour-blind, now occupy, exist now, just as much as those which\nI now see. And it may be thought that this implies that the sensibles,\nwhich he would see, and which would certainly be very different from\nthose which I see, are nevertheless at this moment in exactly the same\nplace as those which I see. Now, for my part, I am not prepared to\nadmit that it is impossible they should be in the same place. But the\nassumption against which I wish to protest, is the assumption that,\nif they exist at all, they _must_ be in the same place. I can see no\nreason whatever for this assumption. And hence any difficulties there\nmay be in the way of supposing that they could be in the same place at\nthe same time as the sensibles which I see, do not at all apply to my\nhypothesis, which is only that they exist _now, not_ that they exist\n_in the same place_ in which mine do.\n\nOn this question, therefore, as to whether sensibles ever exist at\ntimes when they are not experienced, I have only to say (1) that I\nthink there is certainly no good reason whatever for asserting that\n_no_ sensibles do; and (2) that I think perhaps a certain amount of\nweight ought to be attached to our instinctive belief that certain\nkinds of sensibles do; and that here again any special arguments which\nmay be brought forward to show that, whether some sensibles exist\nunexperienced or not, _this_ kind certainly do not, are, so far as I\ncan see, wholly inconclusive.\n\n\n\n(II)\n\n\nI now pass to the question how sensibles are related to physical\nobjects. And here I want to say, to begin with, that I feel extremely\npuzzled about the whole subject. I find it extremely difficult to\ndistinguish clearly from one another the different considerations which\nought to be distinguished; and all I can do is to raise, more or less\nvaguely, certain questions as to how certain _particular_ sensibles\nare related to certain _particular_ physical objects, and to give\nthe reasons which seem to me to have most weight for answering these\nquestions in one way rather than another. I feel that all that I can\nsay is very tentative.\n\nTo begin with, I do not know how \"physical object\" is to be defined,\nand I shall not try to define it. I shall, instead, consider certain\npropositions, which everybody will admit to be propositions _about_\nphysical objects, and which I shall assume that I know to be true.\nAnd the question I shall raise is as to how these propositions are to\nbe interpreted_--in what sense_ they are true; in considering which,\nwe shall at the same time consider how they are related to certain\nsensibles.\n\nI am looking at two coins, one of which is a half-crown, the other a\nflorin. Both are lying on the ground; and they are situated obliquely\nto my line of sight, so that the visual sensibles which I directly\napprehend in looking at them are visibly elliptical, and not even\napproximately circular. Moreover, the half-crown is so much farther\nfrom me than the florin that _its_ visual sensible is visibly smaller\nthan that of the florin.\n\nIn these circumstances I am going to assume that I know the following\npropositions to be true; and no one, I think, will deny that we can\nknow such propositions to be true, though, as we shall see, extremely\ndifferent views may be taken as to what they mean. I know (_a_) that,\nin the ordinary sense of the word \"see\" I am _really seeing two coins;_\nan assertion which includes, if it is not identical with, the assertion\nthat the visual experiences, which consist in my direct apprehension\nof those two elliptical patches of colour, _are_ sensations proper,\nand are not either hallucinations nor mere experiences of \"images\";\n(_b_) that the upper sides of the coins are _really_ approximately\ncircular, and not merely elliptical like the visual sensibles; (_c_)\nthat the coins _have_ another side, and an inside, though I don't see\nit; (_d_) that the upper side of the half-crown is really _larger_\nthan that of the florin, though its visual sensible is _smaller_ than\nthe visual sensible of the upper side of the florin: (_e_) that both\ncoins continue to exist, even when I turn away my head or shut my eyes;\nbut in saying this, I do not, of course, mean to say that there is\nabsolutely _no_ change in them; I daresay there must be _some_ change,\nand I do not know how to define exactly what I do mean. But we can, I\nthink, say at least this: viz., that propositions (_h_), (_c_), and\n(_d_) will still be true, although proposition (_a_) has ceased to be\ntrue.\n\nNow all these propositions are, I think, typical propositions of the\nsort which we call propositions about physical objects; and the two\ncoins themselves _are_ physical objects, if anything is. My question\nis: _In what sense_ are these propositions true?\n\nAnd in considering this question, there are, I think, two principles\nwhich we can lay down as certain to begin with; though they do not\ncarry us very far.\n\nThe one is (_a_) that the upper side of the coin, which I am said\nto _see,_ is not simply identical with the visual sensible which I\n_directly apprehend_ in seeing it. That this is so might be thought to\nfollow absolutely from each of the two facts which I have called (_b_)\nand (_d_); but I am not quite sure that it does follow from either of\nthese or from both together: for it seems to me just possible that the\ntwo sensibles in question, though _not_ circular _in my private space,_\nmay yet be circular in _physical_ space; and similarly that though the\nsensible of the half-crown is smaller than that of the florin _in my\nprivate space,_ it may be larger _in physical space._ But what I think\nit does follow from is the fact that another person may be seeing the\nupper side of the coin in exactly the same sense in which I am seeing\nit, and yet his sensible be certainly different from mine. From this it\nfollows absolutely that the upper side of the coin cannot be identical\nwith _both_ sensibles, since they are _not_ identical with one another.\nAnd though it does not follow absolutely that it may not be identical\nwith _one_ of the two, yet it does follow that we _can_ get a case in\nwhich it is not identical with _mine_ and I need only assume that the\ncase I am taking is such a case.\n\nFrom this it follows that we must distinguish that sense of the word\n\"see\" in which we can be said to \"see\" a physical object, from that\nsense of the word in which \"see\" means merely to directly apprehend\na visual sensible. In a proposition of the form \"I see A,\" where A\nis a name or description of some physical object, though, if this\nproposition is to be true, there must be some visual sensible, B,\nwhich I am directly apprehending, yet the proposition \"I see A\" is\ncertainly not always, and probably never, identical in meaning with the\nproposition \"I directly apprehend B.\" In asserting \"I see A\" we are\nasserting not only that we directly apprehend some sensible but also\nsomething else about this sensible--it may be only some proposition of\nthe form, \"and this sensible has certain other properties,\" or it may\nbe some proposition of the form \"and _I know_ this sensible to have\ncertain other properties.\" Indeed we have not only to distinguish that\nsense of the word \"perceive\" in which it is equivalent to \"directly\napprehend,\" from _one_ sense in which we can be said to perceive a\nphysical object; we have also to distinguish at least two different\nsenses in which we can be said to perceive physical objects, different\nboth from one another and from \"directly apprehend.\" For it is obvious\nthat though I should be said to be now seeing _the half-crown_, there\nis a narrower, and more proper, sense, in which I can only be said\nto _see_ one side of it_--not_ its lower side or its inside, and not\ntherefore the whole half-crown.\n\nThe other principle, which we can lay down to start with is (_\u03b2_) that\nmy knowledge of all the five propositions (_a_) to (_e_), is based,\nin the last resort, on experiences of mine consisting in the direct\napprehension of sensibles and in the perception of relations between\ndirectly apprehended sensibles. It is _based_ on these, in at least\nthis sense, that I should never have known any of these propositions\nif I had never directly apprehended any sensibles nor perceived any\nrelations between them.\n\nWhat, in view of these two principles, can be the sense in which my\nfive propositions are true?\n\n(1) It seems to me possible that the only _true_ interpretation which\ncan be given to any of them is an interpretation of a kind which I\ncan only indicate rather vaguely as follows: Namely, that all of them\nexpress only a kind of fact which we should naturally express by saying\nthat, _if_ certain conditions were fulfilled, I or some other person,\n_should_ directly apprehend certain other sensibles. For instance\nthe only _true_ thing that can be meant by saying that I really see\n_coins_ may be some such thing as that, _if_ I were to move my body in\ncertain ways, I should directly apprehend _other_ sensibles, _e.g._\ntactual ones, which I should not directly apprehend as a consequence\nof these movements, if these present visual experiences of mine were\nmere hallucinations or experiences of \"images.\" Again, the only true\nthing that can be meant by saying that the upper sides of the coins\nare _really_ approximately circular may be some such thing as that,\n_if_ I were looking straight at them, I should directly apprehend\ncircular sensibles. And similarly, the only true interpretation of\n(_c_) may be some such fact as that, _if_ I were to turn the coins\nover, or break them up, I _should_ have certain sensations, of a sort I\ncan imagine very well; of (_d_) that _if_ I were at an equal distance\nfrom the half-crown and the florin, the sensible, I should then see\ncorresponding to the half-crown would be bigger than that corresponding\nto the florin, whereas it is now smaller; of (_e_) that, _if,_ when\nmy eyes were closed, they had been open instead, I should have seen\ncertain sensibles.\n\nIt is obvious, indeed, that if any interpretation on these lines _is_\nthe only true interpretation of our five propositions, none of those\nwhich I have vaguely suggested comes anywhere near to expressing it in\nits ultimate form. They cannot do so for the simple reason that, in\nthem, the conditions under which I _should_ experience certain other\nsensibles are themselves expressed in terms of _physical objects,_ and\nnot in terms of sensibles and our experience of them. The conditions\nare expressed in such terms as \"if I were to move my body,\" \"if I\nwere to look straight at the coins,\" \"if I were to turn the coins\nover,\" etc.; and all these are obviously propositions, which must\nthemselves again be interpreted in terms of sensibles, if our original\nfive propositions need to be so. It is obvious, therefore, that any\n_ultimate_ interpretation of our five propositions, on these lines,\nwould be immensely complicated; and I cannot come anywhere near to\nstating exactly what it would be. But it seems to me possible that\n_some_ such interpretation could be found, and that it is the _only_\ntrue one.\n\nThe great recommendation of this view seems to me to be that it enables\nus to see, more clearly than any other view can, how our knowledge of\nphysical propositions can be based on our experience of sensibles, in\nthe way in which principle (_\u03b2_) asserts it to be. If, when I know\nthat the coins are round, all that I know is some such thing as that\nif, after experiencing the sensibles I do now experience, I were to\nexperience still others, I should finally experience a third set, we\ncan understand, as clearly as we can understand how any knowledge can\nbe obtained by induction at all, how such a knowledge could be based on\nour previous experience of sensibles, and how it could be verified by\nour subsequent experience.\n\nOn the other hand, apart from the difficulty of actually giving any\ninterpretation on these lines, which will meet the requirements,\nthe great objection to it seems to me to be this. It is obvious\nthat, on this view, though we shall still be allowed to say that the\ncoins _existed_ before I saw them, are _circular_ etc., all these\nexpressions, if they are to be true, will have to be understood in a\nPickwickian sense. When I know that the coins existed before I saw\nthem, what I know will not be that anything whatever existed at that\ntime, in the sense in which those elliptical patches of colour exist\nnow. _All_ that I know will be simply that, since the elliptical\npatches exist now, it is true, that, _if_ certain unrealised conditions\nhad been realised, I should have had certain sensations that I have\nnot had; or, _if_ certain conditions, which may or may not be realised\nin the future, were to be so, I _should_ have certain experiences.\nSomething like this will actually be the _only true_ thing that can\nbe meant by saying that the coins existed before I saw them. In\nother words, to say of a _physical object_ that it _existed_ at a\ngiven time will always consist merely in saying of some sensible,\n_not_ that _it_ existed at the time in question, but something quite\ndifferent and immensely complicated. And thus, though, when I know that\nthe coins exist, what I know will be merely some proposition about\nthese sensibles which I am directly apprehending, yet this view will\nnot contradict principle (_a_) by _identifying_ the coins with the\nsensibles. For it will say that to assert a given thing of the _coins_\nis not equivalent to asserting the _same thing_ of the sensibles, but\nonly to asserting of them something quite different.\n\nThe fact that these assertions that the coins exist, are round, etc.,\nwill, on this view, only be true in this outrageously Pickwickian\nsense, seems to me to constitute the great objection to it. But it\nseems to me to be an objection only, so far as I can see, because I\nhave a \"strong propensity to believe\" that, when I know that the coins\nexisted before I saw them, _what_ I know is that something existed at\nthat time, in the very same sense in which those elliptical patches now\nexist. And, of course, this belief _may_ be a mere prejudice. It _may_\nbe that when I believe that I _now_ have, in my body, blood and nerves\nand brain, _what_ I believe is only true, if it does _not_ assert, in\nthe proper sense of the word \"existence,\" the _present_ existence of\nanything whatever, other than sensibles which I directly apprehend, but\nonly makes assertions as to the kind of experiences a doctor _would_\nhave, if he dissected me. But I cannot feel at all sure that my belief,\nthat, when I know of the present Existence of these things (as I think\nI do), I am knowing of the present existence (in the proper sense) of\nthings other than any sensibles which I or any one else am now directly\napprehending, is a mere prejudice. And therefore I think it is worth\nwhile to consider what, if it is not, these things, of whose existence\nI know, can be.\n\n(2) It is certain that if, when I know that that half-crown existed\nbefore I saw it, I am knowing that something existed at that time\nin other than a Pickwickian sense, I only know this something _by\ndescription_; and it seems pretty clear that the description by\nwhich I know it is as _the_ thing which has a certain connection\nwith this sensible which I am now directly apprehending. But _what_\nconnection? We cannot simply say, as many people have said, that by\n\"that half-crown\" I mean _the_ thing which _caused_ my experience of\nthis sensible; because events which happen between the half-crown and\nmy eyes, and events in my eyes, and optic nerves, and brains are just\nas much _causes_ of my experiences as the half-crown itself. But it\nmay perhaps be the case that the half-crown has some particular _kind_\nof causal relation to my experience, which these other events have not\ngot--a kind which may be expressed, perhaps, by saying that it is its\n\"source.\" And hence, when I know that that half-crown is circular, I\nmay perhaps be knowing that the _source_ of this experience is circular.\n\nBut what sort of a thing can this \"source\" be?\n\nOne kind of view, which I think is very commonly held, is that it is\nsomething \"spiritual\" in its nature, or something whose nature is\nutterly unknown to us. And those who hold this view are apt to add,\nthat it is not really \"circular,\" in any sense at all; nor is the\n\"source\" of my half-crown experience, in any sense at all, \"bigger\"\nthan that of my florin experience. But if this addition were seriously\nmeant, it would, of course, amount to saying that propositions (_b_)\nand (_d_) are not true, in any sense at all; and I do not think\nthat those who make it, really mean to say this. I think that what\nthey mean is only that the only sense in which those \"sources\" are\ncircular, and one bigger than the other, is one in which to say this\nmerely amounts to saying that the sensibles, which they _would_ cause\nus to experience, under certain conditions, _would_ be circular, and\none bigger than the other. In other words, in order to give a true\ninterpretation to the propositions that the coins are circular and one\nbigger than the other, they say that we must interpret them in the same\nkind of way in which view (1) interpreted them; and the only difference\nbetween their view and view (1), is that, whereas _that_ said that you\nmust give a Pickwickian interpretation _both_ to the assertion that the\ncoins _exist, and_ to the assertion that they are _circular_, they say\nthat you must _not_ give it to the former assertion, and must to the\nlatter.\n\nTo this view my objection is only that any reason there may be for\nsaying that the \"sources\" exist in other than a Pickwickian sense,\nseems to me to be also a reason for saying that they are \"circular\" in\na sense that is not Pickwickian. I have just as strong a propensity to\nbelieve that they are really circular, in a simple and natural sense,\nas that they exist in such a sense: and I know of no better reason for\nbelieving either.\n\n(3) It may be suggested, next, that these \"sources,\" instead of being\nsomething spiritual in their nature or something of a nature utterly\nunknown, consist simply of sensibles, of a kind which I have previously\ntried to define; namely of all those sensibles, which anybody _would,_\nunder the actual physical conditions, experience in _sensations proper_\nof which the half-crown and the florin were the source, _if_ their\nbodies were in any of the positions relatively to those coins, in which\nthey would get sensations from them at all. We saw before that it seems\n_possible_ that all these sensibles do really exist at times when they\nare not experienced, and that some people, at all events, seem to have\na strong propensity to believe that they do. And in favour of the view\nthat some such huge collection of sensibles _is_ the upper side of the\nhalf-crown, is the fact that we do seem to have a strong propensity\nto believe that any particular sensible, which we directly apprehend\nin looking at the upper side of the half-crown, and of our direct\napprehension of which the upper side is the source, is _in the place_\nin which the upper side is. And that _some_ sense might be given to\nthe expression \"in the same place as,\" in which it could be true that\nsensibles of all sorts of different shapes and sizes, and of all sorts\nof different colours, were in the same place at the same time, seems to\nme to be possible. But the objection to this view seems to me to be the\nsame as to the last; namely that if the upper side of the half-crown\nwere identical with such a collection of sensibles, then the only sense\nin which it could be said to be \"circular,\" or bigger than that of the\nflorin, would certainly be very Pickwickian, though not the same as on\nthat view.\n\n(4) If, for the reasons given, we reject both (1), (2), and (3) as\ninterpretations of our five propositions, the only alternative I\ncan think of that remains, is one which is roughly identical, so far\nas I can see, with Locke's view. It is a view which asserts that the\nhalf-crown and the florin really did exist (in the natural sense)\nbefore I saw them; that they really are approximately circular (again\nin the natural sense); that, therefore, they are not composed of\nsensibles which I or others should directly apprehend under other\nconditions; and that therefore also neither these sensibles (even if\nsuch do now exist) nor those which I am now directly apprehending are\nin the place in which the coins are. It holds, therefore, that the\ncoins do really _resemble_ some sensibles, in respect of the \"primary\"\nqualities which these have; that they really are round, and one larger\nthan the other, in much the same sense in which some sensibles are\nround and some larger than others. But it holds also that no sensibles\nwhich we ever do directly apprehend, or should directly apprehend, if\nat a given time we were in other positions, are _parts_ of those coins;\nand that, therefore, there is no reason to suppose that any parts of\nthe coins have any of the \"secondary qualities\"--colour, etc.--which\nany of these sensibles have.\n\nOn this view, it is plain, there is nothing to prevent us from holding\nthat, as suggested in I (3), all sorts of unexperienced sensibles do\nexist. We are only prevented from holding that, if they do, those which\nhave the same source all exist in the _same place_ as their source.\nAnd the natural view to take as to the status of sensibles generally,\nrelatively to physical objects, would be that none of them, whether\nexperienced or not, were ever in the same place as any physical object.\nThat none, therefore, exist \"anywhere\" in physical space; while, at the\nsame time, we can also say, as argued in I (2), that none exist \"in the\nmind,\" except in the sense that some are directly apprehended by some\nminds. And the only thing that would need to be added, is that some,\nand some only, _resemble_ the physical objects which are their source,\nin respect of their shape.\n\nTo this view I can see no objection except the serious one that it\nis difficult to answer the questions: How can I ever come to know\nthat these sensibles have a \"source\" at all? And how do I know that\nthese \"sources\" are circular? It would seem that, if I do know these\nthings at all, I must know _immediately_, in the case of _some_\nsensibles, both that they have a source and what the shape of this\nsource is. And to this it may be objected that this is a kind of thing\nwhich I certainly cannot know immediately. The argument in favour\nof an interpretation of type (i) seems to me to rest wholly on the\nassumption that there are only certain kinds of facts which I can know\nimmediately; and hence that if I believe I know a fact, which is not of\nthis kind, and which also I cannot have learnt immediately, my belief\nmust be a mere prejudice. But I do not know how it can be shown that an\nassertion of the form: Facts of certain kinds are the only ones you can\nknow immediately; is itself not a prejudice. I do not think, therefore,\nthat the fact that, if this last view were true, we should have to\nadmit that we know immediately facts of a kind which many people think\nwe cannot know immediately, is a conclusive objection to it.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONCEPTION OF REALITY\n\n\nThe fourth chapter of Mr. Bradley's _Appearance and Reality_ is a\nchapter headed \"Space and Time,\" and he begins the chapter as follows:--\n\n\"The object of this chapter is far from being an attempt to discuss\nfully the nature of space or of time. It will content itself with\nstating our main justification for regarding them as appearances. It\nwill explain why we deny that, _in the character which they exhibit_,\nthey either _have_ or _belong_ to reality.\"[1]\n\nHere, it will be seen, Mr. Bradley states that, in his opinion, Time,\n_in a certain character_, neither has nor belongs to reality; this is\nthe conclusion he wishes to maintain. And to say that Time _has not_\nreality would seem to be plainly equivalent to saying that Time _is\nnot_ real. However, if anybody should doubt whether the two phrases\nare meant to be equivalent, the doubt may be easily set at rest by\na reference to the concluding words of the same chapter, where Mr.\nBradley uses the following very emphatic expression: \"Time,\" he says,\n\"like space, has most evidently proved _not to be real,_ but to be a\ncontradictory appearance\" (p. 43). Mr. Bradley does, then, say here,\nin so many words, that Time _is not_ real. But there is one other\ndifference between this statement at the end of the chapter, and the\nstatement at the beginning of it, which we must not forget to notice.\nIn the statement at the beginning he carefully qualifies the assertion\n\"Time neither has nor belongs to reality\" by saying \"Time, _in the\ncharacter which it exhibits,_ neither has nor belongs to reality,\"\nwhereas in the final statement this qualification is not inserted;\nhere he says simply \"Time is not real.\" This qualification, which is\ninserted in the one place and omitted in the other, might, of course,\nbe meant to imply that, in some _other_ character--some character which\nit does _not_ exhibit--Time _has_ reality and does belong to it. And I\nshall presently have something to say about this distinction between\nTime in one character and Time in another, because it might be thought\nthat this distinction is the explanation of the difficulty as to Mr.\nBradley's meaning, which I am going to point out.\n\nHowever, so far it is clear that Mr. Bradley holds that _in some\nsense,_ at all events, the whole proposition \"Time is not real\" can be\ntruly asserted. And, now, I want to quote a passage in which he says\nthings which, at first sight, seem difficult to reconcile with this\nview. This new passage is a passage in which he is not talking of Time\nin particular, but of \"appearances\" in general. But, as we have seen,\nhe does regard Time as one among appearances, and I think there is no\ndoubt that what he here declares to be true of all appearances is meant\nto be true of Time, among the rest. This new passage is as follows:--\n\n\"For the present,\" he says,[2] \"we may keep a fast hold upon this,\nthat appearances _exist._ That is absolutely certain, and to deny it\nis nonsense. And whatever exists must _belong to reality._ This is\nalso quite certain, and its denial once more is self-contradictory.\nOur appearances, no doubt, may be a beggarly show, and their nature to\nan unknown extent may be something which, _as it is,_ is _not_ true\nof reality. That is one thing, and it is quite another thing to speak\nas if these facts had no actual existence, or as if there could be\nanything but reality to which they might belong. And I must venture to\nrepeat that such an idea would be sheer nonsense. What appears, for\nthat sole reason, most indubitably _is;_ and there is no possibility of\nconjuring its being away from it.\"\n\nThat is the passage which seems to me to raise a difficulty as to his\nmeaning when contrasted with the former passage. And the reason why it\nseems to me to raise one is this. In the former passage Mr. Bradley\ndeclared most emphatically that Time is not real; he said: \"Time has\n_most evidently_ proved not to be real.\" Whereas in this one he seems\nto declare equally emphatically that Time _does_ exist, and _is._ And\nhis language here again is as strong as possible. He says it is sheer\nnonsense to suppose that Time does _not_ exist, is _not_ a fact, does\n_not_ belong to reality. It looks, therefore, as if he meant to make\na distinction between \"being real\" on the one hand, and \"existing,\"\n\"being a fact,\" and \"being\" on the other hand--as if he meant to say\nthat a thing may exist, and be, and be a fact, and yet _not_ be real.\nAnd I think there is, at all events, some superficial difficulty in\nunderstanding this distinction. We might naturally think that to say\n\"Time exists, is a fact, and is,\" is equivalent to saying that it is\nreal. What more, we might ask, can a man who says that Time _is_ real\nmean to maintain about it than that it exists, is a fact, and is? All\nthat most people would mean by saying that time is real could, it would\nseem, be expressed by saying \"There is such a thing as Time.\" And it\nmight, therefore, appear from this new passage as if Mr. Bradley fully\nagreed with the view that most people would express by saying \"Time is\nreal\"--as if he did not at all mean to contradict anything that most\npeople believe about Time. But, if so, then what are we to make of his\nformer assertion that, nevertheless, Time is _not_ real? He evidently\nthinks that, in asserting this, he is asserting something which is\n_not_ mere nonsense; and he certainly would not have chosen this way of\nexpressing what he means, unless he had supposed that what he is here\nasserting about Time is incompatible with what people _often_ mean when\nthey say \"Time is real.\" Yet, we have seen that he thinks that what he\nis asserting is _not_ incompatible with the assertions that Time is,\nand is a fact, and exists. He must, therefore, think that when people\nsay \"Time is real\" they often, at least, mean something _more_ than\nmerely that there _is_ such a thing as Time, something therefore, which\nmay be denied, without denying this. All the same, there is, I think, a\nreal difficulty in seeing that they ever _do_ mean anything more, and,\n_if_ they do, what more it is that they can mean.\n\nThe two expressions \"There _is_ such a thing as so and so\" and \"So\nand so is real\" are certainly sometimes and quite naturally used as\nequivalents, even if they are not always so used. And Mr. Bradley's own\nlanguage implies that this is so. For, as we have seen, in the first\npassage, he seems to identify belonging to reality with being real.\nThe conclusion which he expresses in one place by saying that Time\ndoes not belong to reality he expresses in another by saying that it\nis not real; whereas in the second passage he seems to identify the\nmeaning of the same phrase \"belonging to reality\" with _existing;_\nhe says that whatever exists must belong to reality, and that it is\nself-contradictory to deny this. But if both being real and existing\nare identical with belonging to reality, it would seem they must be\nidentical with one another. And, indeed, in another passage in the\nAppendix to the 2nd Edition (p. 555) we find Mr. Bradley actually using\nthe following words: \"Anything,\" he says, \"that in any sense _is,_\nqualifies the absolute reality and so is real.\" Moreover, as we have\nseen, he declares it to be nonsense to deny that Time _is_; he must,\ntherefore, allow that, _in a sense,_ at all events, it is nonsense to\ndeny that Time is real. And yet this denial is the very one he has\nmade. Mr. Bradley, therefore, does seem himself to allow that the word\n\"real\" may, _sometimes_ at all events, be properly used as equivalent\nto the words \"exists,\" \"is a fact,\" \"is.\" And yet his two assertions\ncannot both be true, unless there is _some_ sense in which the whole\nproposition \"Time is real\" is _not_ equivalent to and cannot be\ninferred from \"Time is,\" or \"Time exists,\" or \"Time is a fact.\"\n\nIt seems, then, pretty clear that Mr. Bradley must be holding that the\nstatement \"Time is real\" is in _one_ sense, _not_ equivalent to \"Time\nexists\"; though he admits that, in _another_ sense, it is. And I will\nonly quote one other passage which seems to make this plain.\n\n\"If,\" he says later on (p. 206) \"Time is not unreal, I admit that our\nAbsolute is a delusion; but, on the other side, it will be urged that\ntime cannot be mere appearance. The change in the finite subject, we\nare told, is a matter of direct experience; it is a fact, and hence it\ncannot be explained away. And so much of course is indubitable. Change\nis a fact and, further, _this fact, as such,_ is _not_ reconcilable\nwith the Absolute. And, if we could not in any way perceive how _the\nfact_ can be _unreal,_ we should be placed, I admit, in a hopeless\ndilemma.... But our real position is very different from this. For time\nhas been shown to contradict itself, and so to be appearance. With\nthis, its discord, we see at once, may pass as an element into a wider\nharmony. And with this, the _appeal to fact_ at once becomes worthless.\"\n\n\"It is mere superstition to suppose that an appeal to experience can\nprove _reality._ That I find something in existence in the world or in\nmy self, shows that this something _exists_, and it cannot show _more._\nAny deliverance of consciousness--whether original or acquired--is\nbut a deliverance of consciousness. It is in no case an oracle and a\nrevelation which we have to accept as it is a fact, like other facts,\nto be dealt with; and there is no presumption anywhere that any _fact_\nis better than appearance.\"\n\nHere Mr. Bradley seems plainly to imply that to be \"real\" is something\n_more_ and other than to be a fact or to exist. This is the distinction\nwhich I think he means to make, and which, I think, is the real\nexplanation of his puzzling language, and this is the distinction which\nI am going presently to discuss. But I want first to say something\nas to that other distinction, which I said might be supposed to be\nthe explanation of the whole difficulty--the distinction implied by\nthe qualification \"Time, _in the character which it exhibits_\"; the\nsuggestion that, when we talk of \"Time,\" we may sometimes mean Time in\none character, sometimes in another, and that what is true of it in the\none character may not be true of it in the other. It might, I think, be\nsuggested that this is the explanation of the whole difficulty. And I\nwant briefly to point out why I think it cannot be the only explanation.\n\nStated very badly and crudely, the difficulty which requires\nexplanation is this: Mr. Bradley says, \"It is sheer nonsense to say\nTime is not real.\" But this thing which he says it is sheer nonsense\nto say is the very thing which he himself had formerly said. He had\nsaid, \"Time has most evidently proved not to be real.\" Now, Mr. Bradley\ncertainly does not mean to say that this proposition of his own is\nsheer nonsense; and yet he says, in words, that it _is_ sheer nonsense.\nThis is the difficulty. What is the explanation? Quite obviously,\nthe explanation can only take one possible form. Mr. Bradley must be\nholding that the words \"Time is real\" may have two different _senses._\nIn one sense, the denial of them is sheer nonsense; in the other sense,\nso far from being sheer nonsense, denial of them is, according to him,\nevidently true. Now, what are these two different senses, between\nwhich the difference is so enormous? It is here that the two different\nexplanations come in.\n\nThe first and, as I think, the wrong explanation (though I think Mr.\nBradley's words do give some colour to it) is this. It might be said:\n\"The whole business is perfectly easy to explain. When Mr. Bradley\nsays that Time is _not_ real, what he means is that Time, _in the\ncharacter which it exhibits,_ is not real. Whereas, when he says, Time\ndoes exist, is a fact, and is, and that it is nonsense to deny this,\nwhat he means is that Time does exist, _in some other character_--some\ncharacter _other_ than that which it exhibits. He does _not_ mean to\nmake any distinction, such as you suppose, between two meanings of\nthe word I real '--the one of them merely equivalent to 'exists,'\n'is,' 'is a fact,' and the other meaning something very different from\nthis. The only distinction he means to make is a distinction between\n_two_ meanings of 'Time' or of the whole sentence 'Time is real.' He\ndistinguishes between the meaning of this sentence, when it means,\n'Time in the character which it exhibits, is real,' which meaning, he\nsays, is evidently false; and its meaning when it means, 'Time in _some\nother_ character, is real,' and this meaning, he says, is evidently\ntrue. This is the complete explanation of your supposed puzzle, which\nis, in fact, therefore, very easy to solve.\"\n\nThis, I think, might be offered as an explanation of Mr. Bradley's\nmeaning. And it must be admitted that it _would_ furnish a complete\nexplanation of the particular puzzle I have just stated, it would\ncompletely absolve Mr. Bradley from the charge of inconsistency; and\nwould show that where he appears to contradict himself about the\nreality of Time, the contradiction is verbal only and not real. We\nmight, indeed, object to this distinction between Time in one character\nand Time in another; on the ground that anything which has not got the\ncharacter which Time exhibits, but only some _other_ character, ought\nnot to be called Time at all. We are, indeed, perfectly familiar with\nthe conception that one and the same thing may _at one time_ possess a\ncharacter which it does _not_ possess at another, so that what is true\nof it at one time may not be true of it at another. We are, that is,\nfamiliar with the idea of a thing _changing_ its character. But Time\nitself as a whole obviously cannot change its character in this sense.\nMr. Bradley cannot mean to say that it possesses the character \"which\nit exhibits\" and in which it is unreal _at one time,_ and possesses\nsome other character, in which it is real, at _some other time._ And\nhence we might say it is certainly wrong to speak as if Time itself\ncould have two incompatible characters; since nothing can have two\nincompatible characters, unless it has them _at different times._ And\nthis is an objection which does seem to apply to Mr. Bradley's doctrine\nin any case, since he does in any case seem to imply this distinction\nbetween Time in one character and Time in another, whether this\ndistinction is the complete explanation of our particular puzzle or\nnot. Yet this objection would not necessarily be more than an objection\nto Mr. Bradley's words; it would not necessarily be an objection to\nhis meaning. Where he seems to imply that Time, in some character\nother than that which it exhibits, may be fully real, he may only mean\nthat something completely different from Time, but which does in some\nsense correspond to it, is fully real; and if he does mean this, our\nobjection would only amount to an objection to his giving the name of\n\"Time\" to this supposed counterpart of Time; we might say, and I think\njustly, that it is misleading to speak of this counterpart of Time as\nif it were Time itself in some other character; but this would go no\nway at all to show that there may not really be such a counterpart of\nTime, which _is_ real, while Time itself is unreal. We might ask, too,\nwhat this supposed counterpart of Time is like, or (to put it in Mr.\nBradley's way) what the precise character is, in which Time Areal? And\nI think Mr. Bradley would admit that he cannot tell us. But this, you\nsee, would also be no objection to his actual doctrine. He might quite\nwell know, and be right in saying, that there is and must be a real\n_counterpart_ of Time, completely different in character from Time, as\nwe know it, even though he has not the least idea what this counterpart\nis like.\n\nWe must, therefore, admit that this proposed explanation of our puzzle\nwould be a complete explanation of it. It would completely vindicate\nMr. Bradley from the charge of inconsistency, and would give us, as\nhis doctrine, a doctrine to which we have hitherto found no objection\nexcept verbal ones.\n\nBut, nevertheless, I think it is a wrong explanation, and I want to\nexplain why. If we were to suppose that this distinction between Time\nin one character and Time in another were the only one on which Mr.\nBradley meant to rely, we should have as his doctrine this: We should\nhave to suppose him to affirm most emphatically that Time, in the\ncharacter which it exhibits, neither is real, _nor_ exists, _nor_ is\na fact, _nor_ is. We should have to suppose him to be using all these\nfour expressions always as strict equivalents, and to mean that it\nis _only_ in its other character that Time either exists, or is a\nfact, or is. And if he did mean this, there would, of course, be no\ndoubt whatever that he does mean to contradict the common view with\nregard to Time; since, of course, what most people mean by \"Time\" is\nwhat he chooses to call \"Time in the character which it exhibits.\"\nYet, his language, even in the passages that I quoted, seems to me\nto indicate that he does not mean this. I think, on the contrary,\nhe means to affirm emphatically that Time _even_ in the character\nwhich it exhibits, does exist, _is_ a fact, and indubitably _is,_\nthough it is _not_ real in that character. In the second passage, for\ninstance, where he insists so emphatically that appearances do exist,\nare facts, and indubitably _are,_ he is, I think, plainly talking of\nappearances, in the character which they exhibit--or, as he there puts\nit, their nature, _as it is_--he does, I think, mean that appearances,\neven in this character, are facts, exist, and are, though, in this\ncharacter, they are not \"true of reality.\" And, so again in the third\npassage, where he says, Change _is_ a fact, and this fact, _as such,_\nis not reconcilable with the Absolute; this language is surely quite\ninexcusable, unless he means that Change, as such--change, in the\n_character which it exhibits_--change, _as it is, is_ a fact: though,\nof course, he holds that _in_ this character it certainly is not real.\nI think, therefore, we have to assume that Mr. Bradley means to make\na distinction not merely between Time, in one character, and Time in\nanother, but also between \"real,\" in one sense, and \"real\" in another.\nHis meaning is not so simple as it would be, if he were merely making\na distinction between Time in one character and Time in another, and\nit is not, after all, at all plain whether he means to contradict what\nordinary people hold about Time or not. He does not mean to assert that\nTime, _as such, neither_ is real, _nor_ exists, _nor_ is a fact, _nor_\nis; but, on the contrary, that Time, even _as such,_ does exist, _is_\na fact, and _is_; _but,_ nevertheless, is not real. This, at least,\nis what I am going to assume him to mean. And on this assumption, we\nare brought face to face with the question as to the meaning of the\nword \"real,\" and also as to the meaning of these other words \"exists,\"\n\"is a fact,\" and \"is.\" Mr. Bradley seems to admit, we have seen, that\n\"real\" may _sometimes_ be properly used as _merely_ equivalent to\nthese other phrases. We are, however, now supposing that he also holds\nthat in another sense they are not equivalent, but that \"real\" means\nsomething more than the others, so that it is quite consistent to\nmaintain that Time is _not_ \"real,\" and yet _does_ exist, is a fact,\nand is. In holding this I think he is mistaken; and what I want to do\nis to explain, as clearly as I can, what sort of a mistake I take him\nto be making, and what seems to me to be the source of this mistake. I\nmay, perhaps, be quite wrong in thinking that Mr Bradley has made this\nmistake, and that it is in any degree the source of the distinction he\nseems to draw between \"reality\" and \"existence.\" To maintain that it is\nso is no part of my main object. My main object is simply to make clear\nthe nature of this particular mistake, whether committed by Mr. Bradley\nor not, and that it is a mistake; because it seems to me that it is a\nmistake which it is very easy to make, and very important to avoid. I\nam, of course, not concerned at all to discuss the question whether\nTime _is_ real or not, but only to discuss the question what sort of\nthings would have to be true, if it were unreal, and whether if those\nthings were true it could still be true that Time either exists, or is,\nor is a fact.\n\nNow, to begin with, I think I know pretty well, in part at least, what\nMr. Bradley means when he says that it is unreal. I think that part\nat least of what he means is just what he _ought_ to mean--just what\nanyone else would mean if he said that Time was unreal, and what any\nordinary person would understand to be meant, if he heard those words.\nBut I can conceive that, when I have explained as well as I can what\nthis is that he _ought_ to mean, some people may be inclined to dispute\nwhether he means any such thing at all. They may say that he is using\nthe word \"real\" exclusively in some highly unusual and special sense,\nso that in asserting that \"Time is unreal\" he is by no means denying\nany part of what ordinary people would mean by saying that \"Time is\nreal.\" And that some special sense may _come in_ to his meaning I\nam prepared to admit. I do think it is possible that _part_ of what\nMr. Bradley is asserting may be something which no unsophisticated\nperson would think of expressing in the same way, and I will admit,\ntherefore, that he does not, very likely, mean by \"Time is unreal\"\n_merely_ what other people would mean by this phrase, but something\nelse _as well._ What, however, I cannot help thinking is that, even\nif he means something more, he _does_ mean what ordinary people would\nmean _as well_: that what they would mean is at least a _part_ of his\nmeaning. And if even this is disputed, if it is maintained that he is\nusing the words _exclusively_ in some special sense, I own I do not\nknow how to argue the question. If anybody really does take the view\nthat, when he says \"Time is unreal,\" absolutely all that he means is\nsomething which is in no way incompatible with what most people would\nmean by saying \"Time is real,\" I do not know how to show that this view\nis wrong. I can only say that if this _had_ been all that he meant,\nI cannot believe that he would have expressed his view in the form\n\"Time is unreal.\" The only further argument I shall bring in favour\nof my view that he does mean what he ought to mean will take the form\nof an answer to one possible argument which might be brought against\nit. When I nave explained what he _ought_ to mean by saying that \"Time\nis unreal,\" it will be quite clear that this is something which is in\nfact incompatible with the truth of the propositions that Time _is,_\nor _exists,_ or _is a fact._ And it might be urged that the fact that\nit is thus incompatible is a strong argument against the view that\nMr. Bradley does mean what he _ought_ to mean, since, if he had meant\nit, he could hardly have failed to perceive that what he meant _was_\ninconsistent with these propositions, whereas, as we have seen, he\ncertainly does not perceive this. I have an answer to that argument,\nwhich consists in giving an explanation, which I think a plausible\none, as to how he could come to think that the propositions are _not_\ninconsistent, when in fact they are.\n\nWhat, then, _ought_ Mr. Bradley to mean by \"Time is unreal\"? What\nwould most people mean by this proposition? I do not think there is\nmuch difficulty in discovering what sort of thing they would mean by\nit. Of course, Time, with a big T, seems to be a highly abstract kind\nof entity, and to define _exactly_ what can be meant by saying of an\nentity of that sort that it is unreal does seem to offer difficulties.\nBut if you try to translate the proposition into the concrete, and to\nask what it _implies,_ there is, I think, very little doubt as to the\nsort of thing it implies. The moment you try to do this, and think what\nit really comes to, you at once begin thinking of a number of different\n_kinds_ of propositions, all of which plainly must be untrue, if Time\nis unreal. If Time is unreal, then plainly nothing ever happens before\nor after anything else; nothing is ever simultaneous with anything\nelse; it is never true that anything is past; never true that anything\nwill happen in the future; never true that anything is happening now;\nand so on. You can at once think of a considerable number of kinds of\npropositions (and you could easily add to the list), the falsehood of\nall of which is plainly implied by saying that Time is unreal. And it\nis clear, also, that to say that the falsehood of all propositions of\nthese kinds is implied is equivalent to saying that there are no facts\nof certain corresponding kinds--no facts which consist in one event\nhappening before another; none which consist in an event being past or\nfuture, and so on. That is to say, what \"Time is unreal\" implies is\nthat, in the case of a large number of different _properties_ which\nare such that, if they _did_ belong to anything, what they belonged\nto would be facts having some common characteristic, which we might\nexpress by calling them \"temporal facts,\" the properties in question\ndo, in fact, belong to nothing. It implies that the property of being a\nfact which consists in one event following another belongs to nothing;\nthat that of being a past event belongs to nothing, and so on. And\nwhy it implies that all those different special properties belong to\nnothing is, I think we may say, because what it _means_ is that the\ngeneral property which I have called that of being a \"temporal fact\"\nbelongs to nothing. To say that the property of being a temporal fact\nbelongs to nothing _does imply_ that such special properties as that\nof being a fact which consists in one event following another, or that\nof being a fact which consists in something being past, also belong to\nnothing; in exactly the same way as to say that the property of being\n\"coloured\" belongs to nothing _implies_ with regard to the special\nproperties \"being red,\" \"being blue,\" etc., that they also belong to\nnothing. We may, then, I think, say that what \"Time is unreal\" _means_\nis simply \"The property of being a temporal fact belongs to nothing,\"\nor, to express this in the way in which it would be expressed in\nordinary life, \"There _are_ no temporal facts.\" And this being so, we\nhave explained the usage of \"unreal,\" where it is predicated of Time\nwith a capital T, by reference to a much more common and perfectly\nfamiliar usage of the term. The use of \"is unreal\" in the phrase \"Time\nis unreal\" has been defined by reference to its use in the phrase\n\"Temporal facts are unreal.\" And its use in this phrase is, so far as\nI can see, exactly the same as in hosts of phrases with which we are\nperfectly familiar; it is, I think, _the_ commonest and by far the most\nimportant use of the term \"unreal.\" The use is that in which we use it\nwhen we say, \"Unicorns are unreal,\" \"Griffins are unreal,\" \"Chim\u00e6ras\nare unreal,\" and so on. It is the usage in which unreal is equivalent\nto \"imaginary\"; and in which to say \"Unicorns are unreal\" means the\nsame as \"There are no unicorns\" or \"Unicorns do not exist.\" In just\nthe same way the proposition \"Temporal facts are unreal,\" into which\nwe have translated \"Time is unreal,\" means the same as \"There are no\ntemporal facts,\" or \"Temporal facts do not exist,\" or \"Temporal facts\nare imaginary.\"\n\nI think, then, that what Mr. Bradley _ought_ to mean by \"Time is\nunreal\" can be defined by reference to one particular usage of the word\n\"real\" --or, if you like to put it that way, to one particular one\namong the conceptions for which the term \"reality\" may stand. And this\nparticular conception seems to me to be by far the commonest and most\nimportant of those for which the term does stand. I want, therefore,\nbefore going on, to dwell a little upon its nature; although I daresay\nthat all that I have to say is perfectly familiar and perfectly well\nunderstood by every one here. Of course, it has often been said before,\nbut I think it is still very far from being generally understood.\n\nI think, perhaps, the point I want to insist on can be brought out in\nthis way. I have just said that we have pointed out one particular\none, and that the most important, among the conceptions for which the\nterm \"reality\" may stand; and that is an excusable way of saying what\nwe have done. But it would, I think, be more correct to say that we\nhave pointed out one particular, and that the most important, usage\nof the terms \"real\" and \"unreal,\" and that one of the peculiarities\nof this usage is that it is such that the terms \"real\" and \"unreal\"\ncannot, when used in this way, be properly said to stand for any\nconception whatever. I will try to explain what I mean. We have said\nthat what \"Lions are real\" _means_ is that some particular property or\nother--I will say, for the sake of brevity, _the_ property of being\na lion, though that is not strictly accurate, does In fact _belong\nto_ some-thing--that there are things which have it, or, to put it\nin another way, that the conception of being a lion is a conception\nwhich does apply to some things--that there are things which _fall\nunder_ it. And similarly what \"Unicorns are _unreal\"_ means is that the\nproperty of being a unicorn belongs to _nothing_. Now, if this is so,\nthen it seems to me, in a very important sense, \"real\" and \"unreal\"\ndo _not_ in this usage stand for any conceptions at all. The only\n_conceptions_ which occur in the proposition \"Lions are real\" are, on\nthis interpretation, plainly, (1) the conception of being a lion, and\n(2) the conception of belonging to something, and perfectly obviously\n\"real\" does not stand for either of these. In the case of the first\nthat is obvious; but it is worth while pointing out that it is also\ntrue of the second.\n\nFor if \"is real\" did stand for \"belongs to something,\" then the\nproposition \"Lions are real\" would stand, not for the assertion\nthat the property of \"being a lion\" belongs to something, but for\nthe assertion that lions themselves _are properties which belong to\nsomething_; and it is quite obvious that what we mean to assert is\nnot any such nonsense as this. \"Real,\" therefore, does not, in this\nproposition, stand for the conception of \"belonging to something\" nor\nyet, quite plainly, does it stand for the conception of \"being a lion.\"\nAnd hence, since these are the only two conceptions which do occur in\nthe proposition, we may, I think, say that \"real,\" in this usage, does\nnot stand for any conception at all. To say that it did would be to\nimply that it stood for some property of which we are asserting that\neverything which has the property of \"being a lion\" _also_ has this\nother property. But we are not, in fact, asserting any such thing. We\nare not asserting of any property called \"reality\" that it belongs to\nlions, as in the proposition \"Lions are mammalian\" we _are_ asserting\nof the property of \"being a mammal\" that _it_ belongs to lions. The\ntwo propositions \"Lions are real\" and \"Lions are mammalian,\" though\ngrammatically similar, are in reality of wholly different forms; and\none difference between them may be expressed by saying that whereas\n\"mammalian\" does stand for a property or conception, the very point of\nthis usage of \"real\" is that it does not.\n\nTo return to Mr. Bradley. \"Time is unreal\" _ought_ to mean, according\nto me, \"Temporal facts are unreal,\" in the sense I have tried to\nexplain. And I cannot help thinking that this which he _ought_ to mean\nis, in part at least, what Mr. Bradley _does_ mean when he says \"Time\nis unreal,\" though possibly be also means something else as well. But\nif so, it is quite clear, I think, that what he means is inconsistent\nwith its being true that Time exists or that there is such a thing as\nTime. To say that Time exists or that there is such a thing, is to\nassert at least, that there are some temporal facts: it may assert more\nthan this, but it does assert this, at least. And this, we have seen,\nis exactly what is denied when it is said that Time is unreal. \"Time\nis unreal\" just means \"Temporal facts are unreal,\" _or_ \"there are no\ntemporal facts,\" _or_ \"Temporal facts do not exist.\" And just this is\nalso what is meant by \"Time does not exist\" or \"There is no such thing\nas Time.\" There is, in fact, nothing, else for these expressions to\nmean. What, therefore, Mr. Bradley _ought_ to mean and (according to\nme) does mean by \"Time is unreal\" is, in fact, inconsistent with what\nhe ought to mean by \"Time exists\" or by \"Time is.\" And yet plainly he\ndoes not think that it is so. Is it possible to explain why he should\nhave failed to perceive the inconsistency?\n\nI think his failure can be explained as follows. It may have been\nnoticed that, in the passages I quoted from him, he insists in one\nplace, that to deny that appearances exist is not merely false but\n_self-contradictory,_ and in another appeals to the principle that \"any\ndeliverance of consciousness is but a deliverance of consciousness\" in\nsupport of his contention that what _is_ a fact need, nevertheless,\n_not_ be real. And the fact that he does these two things does, I\nthink, give colour to the suggestion that the reason why he thinks that\nwhat is unreal may yet exist, and be a fact, and be, is the following.\nIt is undoubtedly the case that, even if temporal facts are unreal,\n_i.e.,_ there _are_ no such things, we can and do _think of them,_ just\nas it is undoubtedly the case that, though unicorns are unreal, we can\nand do imagine them. In other words, \"temporal facts\" and \"unicorns\"\nare both quite certainly \"deliverances of consciousness,\" at least\nin the sense that they are \"objects of thought\"; being \"objects of\nthought\" they are, in a wide sense, \"appearances\" also, and I cannot\nhelp thinking that Mr. Bradley supposes that, merely because they are\nso, they _must_ at least BE. \"How\" (I imagine he would ask) \"can a\nthing 'appear' or even 'be thought of' unless it is there to appear and\nto be thought of? To say that it appears or is thought of, and that yet\nthere is no such thing, is plainly self-contradictory. A thing cannot\nhave a property, unless it is there to have it, and, since unicorns\nand temporal facts _do_ have the property of being thought of, there\ncertainly must be such things. When I think of a unicorn, what I am\nthinking of is certainly not nothing; if it were nothing, then, when\nI think of a griffin, I should also be thinking of nothing, and there\nwould be no difference between thinking of a griffin and thinking\nof a unicorn. But there certainly is a difference; and what can the\ndifference be except that in the one case what I am thinking of is a\nunicorn, and in the other a griffin? And if the unicorn is what I am\nthinking of, then there certainly must _be_ a unicorn, in spite of the\nfact that unicorns are unreal. In other words, though in one sense of\nthe words there certainly _are_ no unicorns--that sense, namely, in\nwhich to assert that there are would be equivalent to asserting that\nunicorns are real--yet there _must_ be _some_ other sense in which\nthere _are_ such things; since, _if_ there were not, we could not think\nof them.\"\n\nPerhaps, it may be thought that the fallacy involved in this argument\nis too gross for it to be possible that Mr. Bradley should have\nbeen guilty of it. But there are other passages in _Appearance and\nReality_--particularly what he says about Error --which look to me as\nif he certainly was guilty of it. I suppose it will be quite obvious to\neveryone here that it is a fallacy; that the fact that we can think of\nunicorns is not sufficient to prove that, in any sense at all, there\n_are_ any unicorns. Yet, I am not sure that I know myself what is _the_\nmistake involved in thinking that it _is_ sufficient, and I am going,\ntherefore, to try to put as clearly as I can, what I think it is, in\nthe hope that somebody may be able, if I am wrong, to correct me.\n\nThe main mistake, I suppose, is the mistake of thinking that the\nproposition \"Unicorns are thought of\" is a proposition of the same form\nas \"Lions are hunted\"; or the proposition \"I am thinking of a unicorn\"\nof the same form as \"I am hunting a lion\"; or the proposition \"Unicorns\nare objects of thought\" of the same form as \"Lions are objects of the\nchase.\" Of the second proposition in each of these three pairs, it is\nin fact the case that it could not be true unless there were lions--at\nleast one. Each of them does, in fact, assert both with regard to a\ncertain property--which we will call that of \"being a lion\"--that there\n_are_ things which possess it, and also with regard to another--that of\nbeing hunted--that some of the things which possess the former possess\nthis property too. But it is obvious enough to common sense that the\nsame is by no means true of the _first_ proposition in each pair, in\nspite of the fact that their grammatical expression shows no trace of\nthe difference. It is perfectly obvious that if I say \"I am thinking of\na unicorn,\"\n\nI am not saying both that there is a unicorn and that I am thinking of\nit, although, if I say \"I am hunting a lion,\" I am saying both that\nthere is a lion, and that I am hunting it. In the former case,\n\nI am _not_ asserting that the two properties of being a unicorn and of\nbeing thought of by me both belong to one and the same thing; whereas,\nin the latter case, I am asserting that the two properties of being a\nlion and of being hunted by me _do_ belong to one and the same thing.\nIt is quite clear that there is _in fact_, this difference between\nthe two propositions; although no trace of it appears in their verbal\nexpression. And why we should use the same form of verbal expression\nto convey such different meanings is more than I can say. It seems to\nme very curious that language, in this, as in the other instance which\nwe have just considered of \"Lions are real\" and \"Lions are mammalian,\"\nshould have grown up just as if it were expressly designed to mislead\nphilosophers; and I do not know why it should have. Yet, it seems to\nme there is no doubt that in ever so many instances it has. Moreover,\n_exactly_ what _is_ meant by saying \"I am thinking of a unicorn\" is\nnot by any means clear to me. I think we can assert at least this:\nIn order that this proposition should be true, it is necessary (1)\nthat I should be conceiving, with regard to a certain property, the\nhypothesis that there Is something which possesses it, and (2) that the\nproperty in question should be such that, if anything did possess it\nthere would be a unicorn. Although this is plainly true, it does not\ngive us completely what is _meant_ by the statement, \"I am thinking\nof a unicorn\"; and I do not know what the complete meaning is. It is\ncertainly _not_ that I am conceiving with regard to the property of\n\"being a unicorn,\" that there is something which possesses it; since\nI may be thinking of a unicorn, without ever having conceived the\nproperty of \"being a unicorn\" at all. Whatever it does mean, the point\nwhich concerns us is that it is certainly _not_ necessary for its\ntruth, that the property of being a unicorn should, in fact, belong\nto anything whatever, or, therefore, that there should in any sense\nwhatever _be_ a unicorn. And the fallacy I am attributing to Mr.\nBradley is that of supposing that, _in some sense,_ it must imply this\nlatter.\n\nThis, then, is what I imagine to be at least one of the reasons\nwhich have led Mr. Bradley to suppose that the proposition \"Time is\nunreal,\" _must_ be consistent with the proposition \"There _is_ such\na thing as Time.\" Put shortly, it is that he sees (what is perfectly\ntrue) that \"Time is unreal\" _must_ be consistent with \"We do think of\nTime;\" he thinks (falsely) that \"We _do_ think of Time\" must imply,\nin some sense, \"There _is_ such a thing as Time;\" and finally, infers\n(correctly) from this true and this false premiss, that there _must_ be\nsome sense of the proposition \"There is such a thing as Time\" which is\nconsistent with \"Time is unreal.\"\n\nIt follows, then, that if Mr. Bradley means what he ought mean _both_\nby \"Time is unreal\" _and_ by \"Time exists,\" he is contradicting himself\nwhen he combines these two propositions. And I have said I feel\nconvinced that he _does_ mean what he ought to mean by the former.\nBut I feel a good deal of doubt as to whether, all the same, he is\ncontradicting himself, because it does seem to me doubtful whether he\nmeans what he ought to mean by the latter. The kind of thing which I\nimagine may be happening to him when he insists so strongly that Time\n_does_ exist, _is a fact,_ and _is,_ is that, properly speaking, he is\nnot attaching to these phrases any meaning whatever--_not,_ therefore,\nthat which they properly bear. It seems to me very possible that he\nhas so strongly convinced himself of the false proposition that there\n_must_ be _some_ sense in which, if I think of a unicorn, there must\n_be_ a unicorn, that wherever he knows the former proposition holds,\nhe allows himself to use the latter _form of words,_ without attaching\nany meaning to them. What he is really asserting so emphatically may,\nI think, be not anything which his words stand for, but simply this\nverbal proposition that there _must_ be _some_ sense in which they are\ntrue.\n\n\n[1] _Appearance and Reality_ (2nd edn.), p. 35. The Italics are mine.\n\n[2] _Op. cit._ pp. 131-2.\n\n\n\n\nSOME JUDGMENTS OF PERCEPTION\n\n\nI want to raise some childishly simple questions as to what we are\ndoing when we make judgments of a certain kind, which we all do in fact\nexceedingly commonly make. The kind of judgments I mean are those which\nwe make when, with regard to something which we are seeing, we judge\nsuch things as '\"That is an inkstand,\" \"That is a tablecloth,\" \"That\nis a door,\" etc., etc.; or when, with regard to something which we are\nfeeling with our hands, we judge such things as \"This is cloth,\" \"This\nis a finger,\" \"This is a coin,\" etc., etc.\n\nIt is scarcely possible, I think, to exaggerate the frequency with\nwhich we make such judgments as these, nor yet the certainty with\nwhich we are able to make vast numbers of them. Any man, who is not\nblind, can, at almost any moment of his waking life, except when he\nis in the dark, make a large number of judgments of the first kind,\nwith the greatest certainty. He has only to look about him, if he is\nindoors, to judge with regard to various things which he is seeing,\nsuch things as \"That is a window,\" \"That is a chair,\" \"This is a book\";\nor, if he is out-of-doors, such things as \"That is a house,\" \"That\nis a motor-car,\" \"That is a man,\" or \"That is a stone,\" \"That is a\ntree,\" \"That is a cloud.\" And all of us, who are not blind, do in fact\nconstantly make such judgments, even if, as a rule, we only make them\nas parts of more complicated judgments. What I mean is that, when\nwe make such judgments as \"Hullo! that clock has stopped,\" or \"This\nchair is more comfortable than that one,\" or \"That man looks like a\nforeigner,\" judgments of the simpler kind with which I am concerned\nare, so far as I can see, actually a part of what we are judging. In\njudging \"That clock has stopped,\" part of what I am actually judging\nis, so far as I can see, \"That is a clock;\" and similarly if I judge\n\"That tree is taller than this one,\" my judgment actually contains the\ntwo simpler judgments \"That is a tree,\" and \"This is a tree.\" Perhaps\nmost judgments which we make, of the kind I mean, are, in this way,\nonly parts of more complicated judgments: I do not know whether this\nis so or not. But in any case there can be no doubt that we make them\nexceedingly commonly. And even a blind man, or a man in the dark, can\nand does, very frequently, make judgments of the second kind--judgments\nabout things which he is feeling with his hands. All of us, for\ninstance, at almost any moment of our waking life, whether we are in\nthe dark or not, have only to feel certain parts of our own bodies or\nof our clothes, in order to make, with great certainty, such judgments\nas \"This is a finger,\" \"This is a nose,\" \"This is cloth.\" And similarly\nI have only to feel in my pockets to judge, with regard to objects\nwhich I meet with there, such things as \"This is a coin,\" \"This is a\npencil,\" \"This is a pipe.\"\n\nJudgments of this kind would, I think, commonly, and rightly, be taken\nto be judgments, the truth of which involves the existence of material\nthings or physical objects. If I am right in judging that this is\nan inkstand, it follows that there is at least one inkstand in the\nUniverse; and if there is an inkstand in the Universe, it follows that\nthere is in it at least one material thing or physical object. This\nmay, of course, be disputed. Berkeley, if I understand him rightly,\nwas clearly of opinion that there was no inconsistency in maintaining\nthat there were in the Universe thousands of inkstands and trees and\nstones and stars, and that yet there was in it no such thing as matter.\nAnd perhaps the definition of matter, which he adopted, was such\nthat there really was no inconsistency in maintaining this. Perhaps,\nsimilarly, other philosophers have sometimes adopted definitions of\nthe expressions \"material things\" and \"physical objects,\" which were\nsuch that all the judgments of this kind that we make might quite\nwell be true, without its being true that there are in the Universe\nany material things whatever. Perhaps, even, there may be some\njustification for adopting definitions of those terms which would yield\nthe surprising result that we may, with perfect consistency, maintain\nthat the world is full of minerals and vegetables and animals, of all\nsorts of different kinds, and that yet there is not to be found in\nit a single material thing. I do not know whether there is or is not\nany utility in using the terms \"material thing\" or \"physical object\"\nin such a sense as this. But, whether there is or not, I cannot help\nthinking that there is ample justification for using them in another\nsense--a sense in which from the proposition that there are in the\nUniverse such things as inkstands or fingers or clouds, it strictly\nfollows that there are in it at least as many material things, and in\nwhich, therefore, we can _not_ consistently maintain the existence of\ninkstands, fingers, and clouds, while denying that of material things.\nThe kinds of judgment which I have mentioned, and thousands of others\nwhich might easily be mentioned, are obviously all of the same sort\nin one very important respect--a respect in which, for instance, such\njudgments as \"This is an emotion,\" \"This is a judgment,\" \"This is a\ncolour,\" are _not_ of the same sort as they are. And it seems to me\nthat we are certainly using the term \"material thing\" in _a_ correct\nand useful way, if we express this important common property which they\nhave, by saying that of each of them the same can truly be said as was\nsaid of the judgment \"That is an inkstand\": that, just as from the\nproposition \"There is an inkstand\" it follows that there is at least\none material thing, so from the proposition \"There is a tablecloth,\"\nit follows that there is at least one material thing; and similarly\nin all the other cases. We can certainly use the expression \"Things\n_such as_ inkstands, tablecloths, fingers, clouds, stars, etc.,\" to\nmean things such as these in a certain very important respect, which\nwe all understand, though we may not be able to define it. And the\nterm \"material thing\" certainly is and can be correctly used to mean\nsimply things such as these in that respect--whatever it may be. Some\nterm is certainly required to mean merely things such as these in that\nimportant respect; and, so far as I can see, there is no term which can\nbe naturally used in this sense except the term \"material things\" and\nits equivalents. Thus understood, the term \"material thing\" certainly\ndoes stand for an important notion, which requires a name.\n\nAnd, if we agree to use the term in this sense, then it is obvious that\nno more can be necessary for the truth of the assertion that there are\nmaterial things, than is necessary for the truth of judgments of the\nkind with which I propose to deal. But no more can be necessary for\nthe truth of these judgments than is actually asserted in or logically\nimplied by them. And if we approach the question what is necessary for\nthe truth of the assertion that there are material things, by asking\nwhat it is that we actually assert when we make such judgments as\nthese, certain reasons for doubting how much is necessary are, I think,\nbrought out much more clearly, than if we approach the question in\nany other way. Many philosophers have told us a very great deal as to\nwhat they suppose to be involved in the existence of material things;\nand some, at least, among them seem to have meant by \"material things\"\nsuch things as inkstands, fingers and clouds. But I can think of only\none type of view as to the constitution of material things, which is\nsuch that it is tolerably clear what answer those who hold it would\ngive to the simple question; What is it that I am judging, when I\njudge, as I now do, that that is an inkstand? The type of view I mean\nis that to which the view that Mill suggests, when he explains what he\nmeans by saying that Matter is a Permanent Possibility of Sensation,\nand also the view or views which Mr. Russell seems to suggest in his\n\"Our Knowledge of the External World,\" seem to belong. In the case of\nviews of this kind, it is, I think, tolerably clear what answer those\nwho hold them would give to _all_ the questions I want to raise about\njudgments of the kind I have described. But it does not seem to me at\nall certain that any view of this type is true; and certainly many\nphilosophers have held and do hold that all views of this type are\nfalse. But in the case of those who do hold them to be false, I do\nnot know, in any single case, what answer would be given to _all_ the\nquestions which I want to raise. In the case of philosophers, who do\nnot accept any view of the Mill-Russell type, none, so far as I know,\nhas made it clear what answer he would give to _all_ my questions: some\nhave made it clear what answer they would give to _some_ of them; but\nmany, I think, have not even made it clear what answer they would give\nto any. Perhaps there is some simple and satisfactory answer, which has\nescaped me, that such philosophers could give to all my questions; but\nI cannot help thinking that assumptions as to the nature of material\nthings have too often been made, without its even occurring to those\nwho made them to ask, what, if they were true, we could be judging when\nwe make such judgments as these; and that, if this question had been\nasked, it would have become evident that those assumptions were far\nless certain than they appeared to be.\n\nI do not know that there is any excuse whatever for calling _all_\njudgments of the kind I mean \"judgments of perception.\" All of them\nare, of course, judgments _about_ things which we are at the moment\nperceiving, since, by definition, they are judgments about things\nwhich we are seeing or feeling with our hands; and all of them are, no\ndoubt, also _based upon_ something which we perceive about the thing\nin question. But the mere fact that a judgment is both about a thing\nwhich I am perceiving, and also based upon something which I perceive\nabout that thing, does not seem to be a sufficient reason for calling\nit a judgment of perception; and I do not know that there is any\nother reason than this for calling _all_ judgments of the kind I mean\njudgments of perception. I do not want therefore, to assert that _all_\nof them are so. But it seems to me quite plain that enormous numbers\nof them are so, in a perfectly legitimate sense. This judgment, which\nI now make, to the effect that _that_ is a door, seems to me quite\nplainly to be a judgment of perception, in the simple sense that I\nmake it because I do, in fact, see that that _is_ a door, and assert\nin it no more than what I see; and what I see I, of course, perceive.\nIn every case in which I judge, with regard to something which I am\nseeing or feeling with my hands, that it is a so-and-so, simply because\nI do perceive, by sight or touch, that it is in fact a thing of that\nkind, we can, I think, fairly say that the judgment in question is a\njudgment of perception. And enormous numbers of judgments of the kind\nI mean are, quite plainly, judgments of perception in this sense. They\nare not _all,_ for the simple reason that some of them are mistaken.\nI may, for instance, judge, with regard to an animal which I see at\na distance, that it is a sheep, when in fact it is a pig. And here\nmy judgment is certainly not due to the fact that I see it to be a\nsheep; since I cannot possibly see a thing to be a sheep, unless it is\none. It, therefore, is _not_ a judgment of perception in this sense.\nAnd moreover, even where such a judgment is true, it may not always\nbe a judgment of perception, for the reason that, whereas I only see\nthe thing in question, the kind of thing which I judge it to be is of\nsuch a nature, that it is impossible for any one, by sight alone, to\nperceive anything to be of that kind. How to draw the line between\njudgments of this kind, which are judgments of perception, and those\nwhich are not, I do not know. That is to say, I do not know what\nconditions must be fulfilled in order that I may be truly said to be\n_perceiving,_ by sight or touch, such things as that that is a door,\nthis is a finger, and not _merely_ inferring them. Some people may no\ndoubt think that it is very unphilosophical in me to say that we _ever_\ncan perceive such things as these. But it seems to me that we do, in\nordinary life, constantly talk of _seeing_ such things, and that, when\nwe do so, we are neither using language incorrectly, nor making any\nmistake about the facts--supposing something to occur which never does\nin fact occur. The truth seems to me to be that we are using the term\n\"perceive\" in a way which is both perfectly correct and expresses a\nkind of thing which constantly does occur, only that some philosophers\nhave not recognised that this is a correct usage of the term and have\nnot been able to define it. I am not, therefore, afraid to say that I\ndo now perceive that that is a door, and that that is a finger. Only,\nof course, when I say that I do, I do not mean to assert that part of\nwhat I \"perceive,\" when I \"perceive\" these things, may not be something\nwhich, in an important sense, is known to me only by inference. It\nwould be very rash to assert that \"perception,\" in this sense of the\nword, entirely excludes inference. All that seems to me certain is that\nthere is an important and useful sense of the word \"perception,\" which\nis such that the amount and kind of inference, if inference there be,\nwhich is involved in my present perception that that is a door, is no\nbar to the truth of the assertion that I do perceive that it is one.\nVast numbers, then, of the kind of judgments with which I propose to\ndeal seem to me to be, in an important and legitimate sense, judgments\nof perception; although I am not prepared to define, any further than I\nhave done, what that sense is. And though it is true that the questions\nwhich I shall raise apply just as much to those of them which are not\njudgments of perception as to those which are, it is, of course, also\ntrue that they apply just as much to those which are as to those which\nare not; so that I shall be really dealing with a large and important\nclass among judgments of perception.\n\nIt is true that, if certain views which, if I understand them rightly,\nsome Philosophers have seriously entertained, were true ones, it would\nbe quite impossible that any of them should be judgments of perception.\nFor some philosophers seem to me to have denied that we ever do in fact\nknow such things as these, and others not only that we ever know them\nbut also that they are ever true. And, if, in fact, I never do know\nsuch a thing, or if it is never true, it will of course, follow that I\nnever perceive such a thing; since I certainly cannot, in this sense,\nperceive anything whatever, unless I both know it and it is true. But\nit seems to me a sufficient refutation of such views as these, simply\nto point to cases in which we do know such things. This, after all, you\nknow, really is a finger: there is no doubt about it: I know it, and\nyou all know it. And I think we may safely challenge any philosopher to\nbring forward any argument in favour either of the proposition that we\ndo not know it, or of the proposition that it is not true, which does\nnot at some point, rest upon some premiss which is, beyond comparison,\nless certain than is the proposition which it is designed to attack.\nThe questions whether we do ever know such things as these, and whether\nthere are any material things, seem to me, therefore, to be questions\nwhich there is no need to take seriously: they are questions which it\nis quite easy to answer, with certainty, in the affirmative. What does,\nI think, need to be taken seriously, and what is really dubious, is not\nthe question, whether this is a finger, or whether I know that it is,\nbut the question _what,_ in certain respects, I am knowing, when I know\nthat it is. And this is the question to which I will now address myself.\n\nTo begin with there is one thing which seems to me to be very certain\nindeed about such judgments. It is unfortunately a thing which I do\nnot know how properly to express. There seem to me to be objections\nto every way of expressing it which I can think of. But I hope I\nmay be able to make my meaning clear, in spite of the inadequacy of\nmy expression. The thing I mean is a thing which may to some people\nseem so obvious as to be scarcely worth saying. But I cannot help\nthinking that it is not always clearly recognised, and even that some\nphilosophers, to judge from what they say, might perhaps dispute it.\nIt seems to me to be an assumption which is silently made in many\ntreatments of the subject, and, as I say, it seems to me to be very\ncertain indeed. But I think it is at all events worth while to try to\nmake the assumption explicit, in case it should be disputed. If it\nreally is not true, then the other questions to which I shall go on,\nand which seem to me really dubious and difficult, do not, I think,\narise at all.\n\nI will try to express this fundamental assumption, which seems to me\nso very certain, by saying it is the assumption that, in all cases in\nwhich I make a judgment of this sort, I have no difficulty whatever\nin picking out a thing, which is, quite plainly, in a sense in which\nnothing else is, _the_ thing about which I am making my judgment; and\nthat yet, though this thing is _the_ thing about which I am judging, I\nam, quite certainly, _not_, in general, judging with regard to it, that\n_it_ is a thing of that kind for which the term, which seems to express\nthe predicate of my judgment, is a name. Thus, when I judge, as now,\nthat That is an inkstand, I have no difficulty whatever in picking out,\nfrom what, if you like, you can call my total field of presentation\nat the moment, an object, which is undoubtedly, in a sense in which\nnothing else is, _the_ object about which I am making this judgment;\nand yet it seems to me quite certain that of _this_ object I am not\njudging that it is a whole inkstand. And similarly when I judge, with\nregard to something which I am feeling in my pocket, \"This is a coin,\"\nI have no difficulty in picking out, from my field of presentation,\nan object, which is undoubtedly _the_ object with which my judgment\nis concerned; and yet I am certainly not judging with regard to this\nobject that it is a whole coin. I say that _always__t_ when I make\nsuch a judgment, I can pick out _the_ one, among the objects presented\nto me at the time, about which I am making it; but I have only said\nthat _in general_ I am not judging with regard to this object that\nit is a thing of the kind, for which the term, which seems to express\nthe predicate of my judgment, is a name. And I have limited my second\nproposition in this way, because there are cases, in which it does\nnot, at first sight, seem quite so certain that I am not doing this,\nas in the two instances I have just given. When, for instance, I judge\nwith regard to something, which I am seeing, \"This is a soap-bubble,\"\nor \"This is a drop of water,\" or even when I judge \"This is a spot\nof ink,\" it may not seem quite so plain, that I may not be judging,\nwith regard to the very object presented to me, that it is, itself, a\nwhole soap-bubble, a whole drop of water, or a whole spot of ink, as\nit always is, in the case of an inkstand, or a coin, that I never take\nthe presented object, about which I am judging, to be a whole inkstand,\nor a whole coin. The sort of reason why I say this will, of course,\nbe obvious to any one, and it is obviously of a childish order. But I\ncannot say that it seems to me quite obvious that in such a case I am\nnot judging of the presented object that it is a whole drop of water,\nin the way in which it does seem to be obvious that I am not judging\nof _this_ presented object that it is an inkstand. That is why I limit\nmyself to saying that, _in general_, when I judge \"That is a so-and-so\"\nI am not judging with regard to the presented object, about which my\njudgment is that _it_ is a thing of the kind in question. As much as\nthis seems to me to be a thing which any child can see. Nobody will\nsuppose, for a moment, that when he judges such things as \"This is a\nsofa,\" or \"This is a tree,\" he is judging, with regard to the presented\nobject about which his judgment plainly is, that it is a whole sofa or\na whole tree: he can, at most, suppose that he is judging it to be a\npart of the surface of a sofa or a part of the surface of a tree. And\ncertainly in the case of most judgments of this kind which we make,\nwhether in the case of all or not, this is plainly the case: we are not\njudging, with regard to the presented object about which our judgment\nplainly is, that it is a thing of the kind, for which the term which\nappears to express the predicate of our judgment, is a name. And that\nthis should be true of _most_ judgments of this kind, whether of all or\nnot, is quite sufficient for my purpose.\n\nThis much, then, seems to me to be very certain indeed. But I will try\nto make clearer exactly what I mean by it, by mentioning a ground on\nwhich I imagine it might perhaps be disputed.\n\nThe object of which I have spoken as _the_ object, about which, in\neach particular case, such a judgment as this always is a judgment,\nis, of course, always an object of the kind which some philosophers\nwould call a sensation, and others would call a sense-datum. Whether\nall philosophers, when they talk of sensations, mean to include among\nthem such objects as these, I do not know. Some, who have given a great\ndeal of attention to the subject, and for whom I have a great respect,\ntalk of sensations in such a way, that I cannot be sure what they are\ntalking about at all or whether there are such things. But many, I\nthink, undoubtedly do mean to include such subjects as these. No doubt,\nin general, when they call them sensations, they mean to attribute to\nthem properties, which it seems to me extremely doubtful whether they\npossess. And perhaps even those who call them sense-data, may, in part,\nbe attributing to them properties which it may be doubtful whether\nthey possess. If we want to define a sensation or a sense-datum, in a\nmanner which will leave it not open to doubt what sort of things we are\ntalking of, and that there are such things, I do not know that we can\ndo it better than by saying that sense-data are the sort of things,\n_about_ which such judgments as these always seem to be made--the sort\nof things which seem to be the real or ultimate subjects of all such\njudgments. Such a way of defining how the term \"sense-datum\" is used,\nmay not seem very satisfactory; but I am inclined to think it may be as\nsatisfactory as any which can be found. And it is certainly calculated\nto obviate some misunderstandings which may arise; since everybody can\nsee, I think, what the thing is which I am describing as _the_ thing\nabout which he is making his judgment, when he judges \"That is an\ninkstand,\" and that there is such a thing, even if he does not agree\nthat this description applies to it.\n\nI can, in fact, imagine that some of those who would call this thing a\nsensation would deny that my judgment is _about_ it at all. It would\nsometimes be spoken of as the sensation which mediates my perception\nof this inkstand in this instance. And I can imagine that some of\nthose who would so speak of it might be inclined to say that when\nI judge \"This is an inkstand,\" my judgment is about this inkstand\nwhich I perceive, and not, in any sense at all, about the sensation\nwhich mediates my perception of it. They may perhaps imagine that the\nsensation mediates my perception of the inkstand only in the sense\nthat it brings the inkstand before my mind in such a way that, once it\nis before my mind, I can make a judgment about it, which is _not_ a\njudgment about the mediating sensation at all; and that such a judgment\nis the one I am actually expressing when I say \"This is an inkstand.\"\nSuch a view, if it is held, seems to me to be quite certainly false,\nand is what I have intended to deny. And perhaps I can put most clearly\nthe reason why it seems to me false, by saying that, if (which may\nbe doubted) there is anything which is this inkstand, that thing is\ncertainly not given to me independently of this sense-datum, in such\na sense that I can possibly make a judgment about it which is _not_\na judgment about this sense-datum. I am not, of course, denying that\nI do perceive this inkstand, and that my judgment is, in a sense, a\njudgment about it. Both these things seem to me to be quite obviously\ntrue. I am only maintaining that my judgment is _also,_ in another\nsense, a judgment about this sense-datum which mediates my perception\nof the inkstand. Those who say that this sense-datum does mediate my\nperception of the inkstand, would, of course, admit that my perception\nof the inkstand is, in a sense, dependent upon the sense-datum; that\nit is dependent is implied in the mere statement that it is mediated\nby it. But it might be maintained that it is dependent on it only in\nthe sense in which, when the idea of one object is called up in my\nmind, through association, by the idea of another, the idea which is\ncalled up is dependent on the idea which calls it up. What I wish to\nmaintain, and what seems to me to be quite certainly true, is that my\nperception of this inkstand is dependent on this sense-datum, in a\nquite different and far more intimate sense than this. It is dependent\non it in the sense that, if there is anything which is this inkstand,\nthen, in perceiving that thing, I am knowing it _only_ as _the_ thing\nwhich stands in a certain relation to this sense-datum. When the idea\nof one object is called up in my mind by the idea of another, I do\nnot know the second object _only_ as _the_ thing which has a certain\nrelation to the first: on the contrary, I can make a judgment about the\nsecond object, which is not a judgment about the first. And similarly\nin the case of two sense-data which are presented to me simultaneously,\nI do not know the one _only_ as a thing which has a certain relation to\nthe other. But in the case of this sense-datum and this inkstand the\ncase seems to me to be plainly quite different. If there be a thing\nwhich is this inkstand at all, it is certainly _only_ known to me as\n_the_ thing which stands in a certain relation to this sense-datum. It\nis not given to me, in the sense in which this sense-datum is given.\nIf there be such a thing at all, it is quite certainly only known to\nme by description, in the sense in which Mr. Russell uses that phrase;\nand the description by which it is known is that of being _the_ thing\nwhich stands to this sense-datum in a certain relation. That is to\nsay, when I make such a judgment as \"This inkstand is a good big one\";\nwhat I am really judging is: \"There is a thing which stands to _this_\nin a certain relation, and which is an inkstand, and that thing is\na good big one\"--where \"_this_\" stands for this presented object. I\nam referring to or identifying the thing which is this inkstand, if\nthere be such a thing at all, only as the thing which stands to this\nsense-datum in a certain relation; and hence my judgment, though in\none sense it may be said to be a judgment about the inkstand, is quite\ncertainly also, in another sense, a judgment about this sense-datum.\nThis seems to me so clear, that I wonder how anyone can deny it; and\nperhaps nobody would. But I cannot help thinking that it is not clear\nto everybody; partly because, so far as I can make out, nobody before\nMr. Russell had pointed out the extreme difference there is between a\njudgment about a thing known only by description to the individual who\nmakes the judgment, and a judgment about a thing not known to him only\nin this way; and partly because so many people seem still utterly to\nhave failed to understand what the distinction is which he expresses in\nthis way. I will try to make the point clear, in a slightly different\nway. Suppose I am seeing two coins, lying side by side, and am not\nperceiving them in any other way except by sight. It will be plain to\neverybody, I think, that, when I identify the one as \"This one\" and\nthe other as \"That one,\" I identify them only by reference to the two\nvisual presented objects, which correspond respectively to the one and\nto the other. But what may not, I think, be realised, is that the sense\nin which I identify them by reference to the corresponding sense-data,\nis one which involves that every judgment which I make about the one\nis a judgment about the sense-datum which corresponds to it, and every\njudgment I make about the other, a judgment about the sense-datum which\ncorresponds to _it_: I simply cannot make a judgment about either,\nwhich is not a judgment about the corresponding sense-datum. But if the\ntwo coins were given to me, in the sense in which the two sense-data\nare, this would certainly not be the case. I can identify and\ndistinguish the two sense-data _directly,_ this as this one, and that\nas that one: I do not need to identify either as _the_ thing which has\nthis relation to this other thing. But I certainly cannot thus directly\nidentify the two coins. I have not four things presented to me (1)\n_this_ sense-datum, (2) _that_ sense-datum, (3) _this_ coin, and (4)\n_that_ coin, but two only_--this_ sense-datum and _that_ sense-datum.\nWhen, therefore, I judge \"_This_ is a coin,\" my judgment is certainly\na judgment about the one sense-datum, and when I judge \"And _that_\nis also a coin,\" it is certainly a judgment about the other. Only,\nin spite of what my language might seem to imply, I am certainly not\njudging either of the one sense-datum that it is a whole coin, nor yet\nof the other that it is one.\n\nThis, then, seems to me fundamentally certain about judgments of this\nkind. Whenever we make such a judgment we can easily pick out an object\n(whether we call it a sensation or a sense-datum, or not), which is,\nin an easily intelligible sense, _the_ object which is the real or\nultimate subject of our judgment; and yet, in many cases at all events,\nwhat we are judging with regard to this object is certainly not that it\nis an object of the kind, for which the term which appears to express\nthe predicate of our judgment is a name.\n\nBut if this be so, what is it that I am judging, in all such cases,\nabout the presented object, which is the real or ultimate subject of my\njudgment? It is at this point that we come to questions which seem to\nme to be really uncertain and difficult to answer.\n\nTo begin with, there is one answer which is naturally suggested by the\nreason I have given for saying that, in this case, it is quite obvious\nthat I am not judging, with regard to this presented object, that\n_it_ is an inkstand, whereas it is not in the same way, quite obvious\nthat, in making such a judgment as \"This is a soap-bubble\" or \"This is\na drop of water,\" I may not be judging, of the object about which my\njudgment is, that that very object really is a soap-bubble or a drop\nof water. The reason I gave is that it is quite obvious that I do not\ntake this presented object to be a _whole_ inkstand: that, at most, I\nonly take it to be part of the surface of an inkstand. And this reason\nnaturally suggests that the true answer to our question may be that\nwhat I am judging of the presented object is just that it is a part of\nthe surface of an inkstand. This answer seems to me to be obviously on\nquite a different level from the suggestion that I am judging it really\nto be an inkstand. It is not childishly obvious that I am not judging\nit to be part of the surface of an inkstand, as it is that I am not\njudging it to be an inkstand--a whole one.\n\nOn this view, when I say such things as \"That is an inkstand,\" \"That\nis a door,\" \"This is a coin,\" these expressions would really only be\na loose way of saying \"That is part of the surface of an inkstand,\"\n\"That is part of the surface of a door,\" \"This is part of the surface\nof a coin.\" And there would, I think, plainly be nothing surprising\nin the fact that we should use language thus loosely. What, at first\nsight, appears to be a paradox, namely that, whereas I appear to be\nasserting of a given thing that it is of a certain kind, I am not\nreally asserting of the thing in question that it is of that kind at\nall, would be susceptible of an easy explanation. And moreover, if\nthis view were true, it would offer an excellent illustration of the\ndifference between a thing known only by description and a thing not so\nknown, and would show how entirely free from mystery that distinction\nis. On this view, when I judge \"That inkstand is a good big one\" I\nshall in effect be judging: \"There is one and only one inkstand of\nwhich _this_ is part of the surface, and the inkstand of which this is\ntrue is a good big one.\" It would be quite clear that the part of the\nsurface of the inkstand was given to me in a sense in which the whole\nwas not, just as it is in fact clear that I do now _\"see\"_ this part\nof the surface of this inkstand, in a sense in which I do _not_ \"see\"\nthe whole; and that my judgment, while it is, in fact, _about_ both the\nwhole inkstand, and also _about_ one particular part of its surface, is\n_about_ them in two entirely different senses.\n\nThis view is one, which it is at first sight, I think, very natural to\nsuppose to be true. But before giving the reasons, why, nevertheless,\nit seems to me extremely doubtful, I think it is desirable to try\nto explain more precisely what I mean by it. The word \"part\" is one\nwhich is often used extremely vaguely in philosophy; and I can imagine\nthat some people would be willing to assent to the proposition that\nthis sense-datum really is, in some sense or other, a \"part\" of this\ninkstand, and that what I am judging with regard to it, when I\njudge \"This is an inkstand,\" is, in effect, \"There is an inkstand,\nof which _this_ is a part,\" who would be far from allowing that this\ncan possibly be what I am judging, when once they understand what the\nsense is in which I am here using the word \"part.\" What this sense\nis, I am quite unable to define; but I hope I may be able to make my\nmeaning sufficiently clear, by giving instances of things which are\nundoubtedly \"parts\" of other things in the sense in question. There is,\nit seems to me, a sense of the word \"part,\" in which we all constantly\nuse the word with perfect precision, and, which, therefore, we all\nunderstand very well, however little we may be able to define it. It is\nthe sense in which the trunk of any tree is undoubtedly a part of that\ntree; in which this finger of mine is undoubtedly a part of my hand,\nand my hand a part of my body. This is a sense in which every part\nof a material thing or physical object is itself a material thing or\nphysical object; and it is, so far as I can see, the only proper sense\nin which a material thing can be said to have parts. The view which I\nwish to discuss is the view that I am judging this presented object to\nbe a part of an inkstand, in this sense. And the nature of the view\ncan perhaps be brought out more clearly, by mentioning one important\ncorollary which would follow from it. I am, of course, at this moment,\nseeing many parts of the surface of this inkstand. But all these\nparts, except one, are, in fact, themselves parts of that one. That\none is the one of which we should naturally speak as \"_the_ part of\nthe surface that I am now seeing\" or as \"_this_ part of the surface of\nthis inkstand.\" There is only one part of the surface of this inkstand,\nwhich does thus contain, as parts, all the other parts that I am now\nseeing. And, if it were true that I am judging this presented object to\nbe a part of the surface of an inkstand at all, in the sense I mean,\nit would follow that this presented object must, if my judgment \"This\nis an inkstand\" be true (as it certainly is), be identical with this\npart, which contains all the other parts which I am seeing; since there\nis plainly no other part with which it could possibly be identified.\nThat is to say, if I am really judging of this presented object that it\nis part of the surface of an inkstand, in the sense I mean, it must be\nthe case that everything which is true of what I should call \"this part\nof the surface of this inkstand\" is, in fact, true of this presented\nobject.\n\nThis view, therefore, that what we are judging of the ultimate subject\nof our judgment, when we judge \"This is a so-and-so,\" is, in general,\nmerely that the subject in question is a _part_ of a thing of the\nkind in question, can, I think, be most clearly discussed, by asking\nwhether, in this case, this presented object can really be identical\nwith this part of the surface of this inkstand. If it can't, then most\ncertainly I am not judging of it that it is a part of the surface of an\ninkstand at all. For my judgment, whatever it is, is true. And yet, if\nthis presented object is not identical with this part of the surface of\nthis inkstand, it certainly is not a part of an inkstand at all; since\nthere is no other part, either of this inkstand or of any other, with\nwhich it could possibly be supposed to be identical.\n\nCan we, then, hold that this sense-datum really is identical with this\npart of the surface of this inkstand? That everything which is true of\nthe one is true of the other?\n\nAn enormous number of very familiar arguments have been used by various\nphilosophers, which, if they were sound, would show that we can not.\nSome of these arguments seem to me to be quite clearly not sound--all,\nfor instance, which rest either on the assumption that this sense-datum\ncan only exist so long as it is perceived, or on the assumption that\nit can only exist so long as it is perceived _by me._ Of others I\nsuspect that they may have some force, though I am quite unable to see\nthat they have any. Such, for instance, are all those which assume\neither that this sense-datum is a sensation or feeling of mine, in a\nsense which includes the assertion that it is dependent on my mind\nin the very same sense in which my perception of it obviously is so;\nor that it is causally dependent on my body in the sense in which my\nperception of it admittedly is so. But others do seem to me to have\ngreat force. I will, however, confine myself to trying to state one,\nwhich seems to me to have as much as any. It will be found that this\none involves an assumption, which does seem to me to have great force,\nbut which yet seems to me to be doubtful. So far as I know, all good\narguments against the view that this sense-datum really is identical\nwith this part of the surface of the inkstand, do involve this same\nassumption, and have no more force than it has. But in this, of course,\nI may be wrong. Perhaps some one will be able to point out an argument,\nwhich is obviously quite independent of it, and which yet has force.\n\nThe argument I mean involves considerations which are exceedingly\nfamiliar, so familiar that I am afraid every one may be sick of\nhearing them alluded to. But, in spite of this fact, it seems to\nme not quite easy to put it quite precisely, in a way which will\ndistinguish it clearly from other arguments involving the same familiar\nconsiderations, but which do not seem to me to be equally cogent. I\nwant, therefore, to try to put it with a degree of precision, which\nwill prevent irrelevant objections from being made to it--objections\nwhich would, I think, be relevant against some of these other\narguments, but are not, I think, relevant against it.\n\nThe fact is that we all, exceedingly commonly, when, at each of two\ntimes, separated by a longer or shorter interval, we see a part of the\nsurface of a material thing, in the sense in which I am now seeing\nthis part of the surface of this inkstand, or when at one time we see\nsuch a surface and at another perceive one by touch, make, on the\nsecond occasion, the judgment \"_This_ part of a surface is the _same_\npart of the surface of the same thing, as that which I was seeing\n(or perceiving by touch) just now.\" How commonly we all do this can\nscarcely be exaggerated. I look at this inkstand, and then I look\nagain, and on the second occasion I judge \"This part of the surface\nof this inkstand is the same as, or at least contains a part which is\nthe same as a part of, the part of its surface which I was seeing just\nnow.\" Or I look at this finger and then I touch it, and I judge, on the\nsecond occasion, \"This part of the surface of this finger is the same\nas one of those I was seeing just now.\" We all thus constantly identify\na part of a surface of a material thing which we are perceiving at one\ntime with a part which we _were_ perceiving at another.\n\nNow, when we do this--when we judge \"This is the _same_ part of the\nsame thing as I was seeing or touching just now,\" we, of course, do\nnot mean to exclude the possibility that the part in question may\nhave changed during the interval; that it is really different, on the\nsecond occasion, either in shape or size or quality, or in all three,\nfrom what it was on the first. That is to say, the sense of sameness\nwhich we are here concerned with is one which clearly does not exclude\nchange. We may even be prepared to assert, on general grounds, in all\nsuch cases, that the surface in question certainly must have changed.\nBut nevertheless there is a great difference in one respect, between\ntwo kinds of such cases, both of which occur exceedingly commonly.\nIf I watch somebody blowing air into a child's balloon, it constantly\nhappens, at certain stages in the process, that I judge with regard\nto the part of the surface which I am seeing at that stage, not only\nthat it _is_ larger than it was at an earlier stage, but that it is\n_perceptibly_ larger. Or, if I pull the face of an india-rubber doll,\nI may judge at a certain stage in the process that the patch of red\ncolour on its cheek not only is different in shape from what it was\nat the beginning, but is _perceptibly_ so; it may, for instance, be a\nperceptibly flatter ellipse than it was to start with. Or, if I watch\na person blushing, I may judge at a certain stage that a certain part\nof the surface of his face not only is different in colour from what\nit was, when I saw it before he began to blush, but is _perceptibly_\nso--perceptibly redder. In enormous numbers of cases we do thus judge\nof a surface seen at a given time that it is thus _perceptibly_\ndifferent in size, or in shape, or in colour, from what it was when we\nsaw it before. But cases are at least equally numerous in which, though\nwe might, on general grounds be prepared to assert that it _must_ have\nchanged in some respect, we should not be prepared to assert that it\nhad, in any respect whatever, changed _perceptibly._ Of this part\nof this surface of this inkstand, for instance, I am certainly not\nprepared to assert that it is now perceptibly different in any respect\nfrom what it was when I saw it just now. And similar cases are so\nnumerous that I need not give further instances. We can, therefore,\ndivide cases, in which we judge, of a part of a surface which we are\nseeing, \"This is the same part of the surface of the same material\nthing as the one I saw just now,\" into cases where we should also judge\n\"But it is perceptibly different from what it was then,\" and cases in\nwhich, even though we might assert \"It _must_ be different,\" we are\ncertainly not prepared to assert that it is _perceptibly_ so.\n\nBut now let us consider the cases in which we are not prepared to\nassert that the surface in question has changed perceptibly. The\nstrange fact, from which the argument I mean is drawn, is that, in a\nvery large number of such cases, it seems as if it were unmistakably\ntrue that the presented object, about which we are making our judgment\nwhen we talk of \"This surface\" at the later time, _is_ perceptibly\ndifferent, from that about which we are making it when we talk of the\nsurface I saw just now. If, at the later time, I am at a sufficiently\ngreater distance from the surface, the presented object which\ncorresponds to it at the time seems to be perceptibly smaller, than\nthe one which corresponded to it before. If I am looking at it from\na sufficiently oblique angle, the later presented object often seems\nto be perceptibly different in shape--a perceptibly flatter ellipse,\nfor instance. If I am looking at it, with blue spectacles on, when\nformerly I had none, the later presented object seems to be perceptibly\ndifferent in colour from the earlier one. If I am perceiving it by\ntouch alone, whereas formerly I was perceiving it by sight alone,\nthe later presented object seems to be perceptibly different from\nthe earlier, in respect of the fact that it is not coloured at all,\nwhereas the earlier was, and that, on the other hand, it has certain\ntactual qualities, which the earlier had not got. All this seems to\nbe as plain as it can be, and yet it makes absolutely no difference\nto the fact that of the surface in question we are _not_ prepared to\njudge that it is perceptibly different from what it was. Sometimes,\nof course, where there seems to be no doubt that the later presented\nobject is perceptibly different from the earlier, we may not notice\nthat it is so. But even where we do notice the apparent difference, we\ndo still continue to judge of the surface in question: This surface\nis not, so far as I can tell with certainty by perception, in any way\ndifferent from what it was when I saw it or touched it just now; I am\n_not_ prepared to assert that it has changed perceptibly. It seems,\ntherefore, to be absolutely impossible that the surface seen at the\nlater time should be identical with the object presented then, and the\nsurface seen at the earlier identical with the object presented then,\nfor the simple reason that, whereas with regard to the later seen\nsurface I am not prepared to judge that it is in any way perceptibly\ndifferent from that seen earlier, it seems that with regard to the\nlater sense-datum I cannot fail to judge that it _is_ perceptibly\ndifferent from the earlier one: the fact that they are perceptibly\ndifferent simply stares me in the face. It seems, in short, that when,\nin such a case, I judge: \"This surface is not, so far as I can tell,\nperceptibly different from the one I saw just now,\" I cannot possibly\nbe judging of the presented object \"_This_ is not, so far as I can\ntell, perceptibly different from that object which was presented to\nme just now,\" for the simple reason that I _can_ tell, as certainly,\nalmost, as I can tell anything, that it is perceptibly different.\n\nThat is the argument, as well as I can put it, for saying that this\npresented object, is _not_ identical with this part of the surface of\nthis inkstand; and that, therefore, when I judge \"This is part of the\nsurface of an inkstand,\" I am not judging of this presented object,\nwhich nevertheless is the ultimate subject of my judgment, that _it_ is\npart of the surface of an inkstand. And this argument does seem to me\nto be a very powerful one.\n\nBut nevertheless it does not seem to me to be quite conclusive, because\nit rests on an assumption, which, though it seems to me to have great\nforce, does not seem to me quite certain. The assumption I mean is the\nassumption that, in such cases as those I have spoken of, the later\npresented object really is perceptibly different from the earlier. This\nassumption has, if I am not mistaken, seemed to many philosophers to\nbe quite unquestionable; they have never even thought of questioning\nit; and I own that it used to be so with me. And I am still not sure\nthat I may not be talking sheer nonsense in suggesting that it can\nbe questioned. But, if I am, I am no longer able to see that I am.\nWhat now seems to me to be possible is that the sense-datum which\ncorresponds to a tree, which I am seeing, when I am a mile off, may not\nreally be perceived to _be_ smaller than the one, which corresponds\nto the same tree, when I see it from a distance of only a hundred\nyards, but that it is only perceived to _seem_ smaller; that the\nsense-datum which corresponds to a penny, which I am seeing obliquely,\nis not really perceived to _be_ different in shape from that which\ncorresponded to the penny, when I was straight in front of it, but is\nonly perceived to _seem_ different--that all that is perceived is that\nthe one _seems_ elliptical and the other circular; that the sense-datum\npresented to me when I have the blue spectacles on is not perceived\nto _be_ different in colour from the one presented to me when I have\nnot, but only to _seem_ so; and finally that the sense-datum presented\nwhen I touch this finger is not perceived to _be_ different in any way\nfrom that presented to me when I see it, but only to _seem_ so that\nI do not perceive the one to be coloured and the other not to be so,\nbut only that the one _seems_ coloured and the other not. If such a\nview is to be possible, we shall have, of course, to maintain that\nthe kind of experience which I have expressed by saying one _seems_\ndifferent from the other_--\"seems_ circular,\" _\"seems_ blue,\" _\"seems_\ncoloured,\" and so on--involves an ultimate, not further analysable,\nkind of psychological relation, not to be identified either with that\ninvolved in being \"perceived\" to be so and so, or with that involved\nin being \"judged\" to be so and so; since a presented object might, in\nthis sense, _seem_ to be elliptical, _seem_ to be blue, etc., when it\nis neither perceived to be so, nor judged to be so. But there seems to\nme to be no reason why there should not be such an ultimate relation.\nThe great objection to such a view seems to me to be the difficulty of\nbelieving that I don't actually perceive this sense-datum to _be_ red,\nfor instance, and that other to _be_ elliptical; that I only perceive,\nin many cases, that it _seems_ so. I cannot, however, now persuade\nmyself that it is quite clear that I do perceive it to _be_ so. And,\nif I don't, then it seems really possible that this presented object\nreally is identical with this part of the surface of this inkstand;\nsince, when I judge, as in the cases supposed, that the surface in\nquestion is _not_, so far as I can tell, perceptibly different from\nwhat it was, I might really be judging of the two sense-data that they\nalso were not, so far as I can tell, perceptibly different, the only\ndifference between the two that _is_ perceptible, being that the one\n_seems_ to be of a certain size, shape or colour, and the other to\nbe of a different and incompatible size, shape or colour. Of course,\nin those cases, as in that of the balloon being blown up, where I\n\"perceive\" that the surface has changed, _e.g._ in size, it would have\nto be admitted that I do perceive of the two sense-data not merely that\nthey _seem_ different in size, but that they _are_ so. But I think it\nwould be possible to maintain that the sense in which, in these cases,\nI \"perceive\" them to _be_ different, is a different one from that in\nwhich, both in these and in the others, I perceive them to _seem_ so.\n\nPossibly in making this suggestion that sense-data, in cases where most\nphilosophers have assumed unhesitatingly that they are _perceived_ to\nbe different, are only really perceived to _seem_ different, I am, as I\nsaid, talking sheer nonsense, though I cannot, at the moment, see that\nI am. And possibly, even if this suggestion itself is not nonsense,\neven if it is true, there may be other fatal objections to the view\nthat this presented object really is identical with this part of the\nsurface of this inkstand. But what seems to me certain is that, unless\nthis suggestion is true, then this presented object is certainly _not_\nidentical with this part of the surface of this inkstand. And since it\nis doubtful whether it is not nonsense, and still more doubtful whether\nit is true, it must, I think, be admitted to be highly doubtful whether\nthe two _are_ identical. But, if they are not identical, then what I am\njudging with regard to this presented object, when I judge \"This is an\ninkstand,\" is certainly _not_ that it is itself part of the surface of\nan inkstand; and hence, it is worth while to inquire further, what, if\nI am not judging this, I _can_ be judging with regard to it.\n\nAnd here, I think, the first natural suggestion to make is that just\nas, when I talk of \"this inkstand,\" what I seem really to mean is\n\"_the_ inkstand of which _this_ is part of the surface,\" so that the\ninkstand is only known to me by description as the inkstand of which\nthis material surface is part of the surface, so again when I talk of\n\"this material surface,\" what I really mean is \"_the_ material surface\nto which _this_ (presented object) has a certain relation,\" so that\nthis surface is, in its turn, only known to me by description as _the_\nsurface which has a certain relation to this presented object. If that\nwere so, then what I should be judging of this presented object, when I\njudge \"This is part of the surface of an inkstand,\" would be not that\nit is itself such a part, but that _the_ thing which stands to it in\na certain relation is such a part: in short, what I should be judging\nwith regard to _it,_ would be \"There's one thing and one only which\nstands to _this_ in _this_ relation, and the thing which does so is\npart of the surface of an inkstand.\"\n\nBut if we are to adopt the view that something of this sort is what we\nare judging, there occurs at once the pressing question: What on earth\ncan the relation be with regard to which we are judging, that one and\nonly one thing stands in it to this presented object? And this is a\nquestion to which, so far as I know, none of those philosophers, who\n_both_ hold (as many do) that this presented object is _not_ identical\nwith this part of the surface of this inkstand, _and_ also that there\nreally is something of which it could be truly predicated that it is\nthis part of the surface of this inkstand (that is to say, who reject\nall views of the Mill-Russell type), have given anything like a clear\nanswer. It does not seem to have occurred to them that it requires an\nanswer, chiefly, I think, because it has not occurred to them to ask\nwhat we can be judging when we make judgments of this sort. There are\nonly two answers, that I can think of, which might be suggested with\nany plausibility.\n\nMany philosophers, who take the view that the presented objects about\nwhich we make these judgments are sensations of ours, and some even who\ndo not, are in the habit of talking of _\"the_ causes\" of these objects\nas if we knew, in the case of each, that it had one and only one cause;\nand many of them seem to think that this part of the surface of this\ninkstand could be correctly described as _the_ cause of this presented\nobject. They suggest, therefore, the view that what I am judging in\nthis case might be: \"This presented object has one and only one cause,\nand that cause is part of the surface of an inkstand.\" It seems to me\nquite obvious that _this_ view, at all events, is utterly untenable. I\ndo not believe for a moment, nor does any one, and certainly therefore\ndo not judge, that this presented object has _only_ one cause: I\nbelieve that it has a whole series of different causes. I do, in fact,\nbelieve that this part of the surface of this inkstand is _one_ among\nthe causes of my perception of this presented object: that seems to\nme to be a very well established scientific proposition. And I am\nprepared to admit that there _may_ be good reasons for thinking that\nit is one among the causes of this presented object itself, though I\ncannot myself see that there are any. But that it is the _only_ cause\nof this presented object I certainly do not believe, nor, I think,\ndoes anybody, and hence my judgment certainly cannot be \"_The_ cause\nof this is part of the surface of an inkstand.\" It might no doubt, be\npossible to define some _kind_ of causal relation, such that it might\nbe plausibly held that it and it alone causes this presented object _in\nthat particular way._ But any such definition would, so far as I can\nsee, be necessarily very complicated. And, even when we have got it,\nit seems to me it would be highly improbable we could truly say that\nwhat we are judging in these cases is: \"This presented object has one\nand only one cause, of this special kind.\" Still, I do not wish to deny\nthat some such view may _possibly_ be true.\n\nThe only other suggestion I can make is that there may be some\nultimate, not further definable relation, which we might for instance,\ncall the relation of \"being a manifestation of,\" such that we might\nconceivably be judging: \"There is one and only one thing of which this\npresented object is a manifestation, and _that_ thing is part of the\nsurface of an inkstand.\" And here again, it seems to me just possible\nthat this _may_ be a true account of what we are judging; only I cannot\nfind the slightest sign that I am in fact aware of any such relation.\n\nPossibly other suggestions could be made as to what the relation is,\nwith regard to which it could be plausibly supposed that in all cases,\nwhere we make these judgments we are in fact judging of the presented\nobject \"There is one and only one thing which stands to this object in\n_this_ relation.\" But it seems to me at least very doubtful whether\nthere is any such relation at all; whether, therefore, our judgment\nreally is of this form, and whether therefore, this part of the surface\nof this inkstand really is known to me by description as _the_ thing\nwhich stands in a certain relation to this presented object. But if it\nisn't, and if, also, we cannot take the view that what I am judging\nis that this presented object _itself_ is a part of the surface of an\ninkstand, there would seem to be no possible alternative but that we\nmust take some view of what I have called the Mill-Russell type. Views\nof this type, if I understand them rightly, are distinguished from\nthose which I have hitherto considered, by the fact that, according to\nthem, there is nothing whatever in the Universe of which it could truly\nbe predicated that it is this part of the surface of this inkstand,\nor indeed that it is _a_ part of the surface of an inkstand, or an\ninkstand, at all. They hold, in short, that though there are plenty of\nmaterial things in the Universe, there is nothing in it of which it\ncould truly be asserted that _it_ is a material thing: that, though,\nwhen I assert \"This is an inkstand,\" my assertion is true, and is such\nthat it follows from it that there is in the Universe at least one\ninkstand, and, therefore, at least one material thing, yet it does not\nfollow from it that there is anything which is a material thing. When\nI judge \"This is an inkstand,\" I am judging this presented object to\npossess a certain property, which is such that, if there are things,\nwhich possess that property, there are inkstands and material things,\nbut which is such that nothing which possesses it is itself a material\nthing; so that in judging that there are material things, we are really\nalways judging of some _other_ property, which is not that of being a\nmaterial thing, that there are things which possess _it._ It seems to\nme quite possible, of course, that some view of this type is the true\none. Indeed, this paper may be regarded, if you like, as an argument in\nfavour of the proposition that some such view _must_ be true. Certainly\none of my main objects in writing it was to put as plainly as I can\nsome grave difficulties which seem to me to stand in the way of any\nother view; in the hope that some of those, who reject all views of\nthe Mill-Russell type, may explain clearly which of the alternatives\nI have suggested they would adopt, or whether, perhaps, some other\nwhich has not occurred to me. It does not seem to me to be always\nsufficiently realised how difficult it is to find _any_ answer to my\nquestion \"What are we judging in these cases?\" to which there are not\nvery grave objections, unless we adopt an answer of the Mill-Russell\ntype. That an answer of this type _is_ the true one, I am not myself,\nin spite of these objections, by any means convinced. The truth is I am\ncompletely puzzled as to what the true answer can be. At the present\nmoment, I am rather inclined to favour the view that what I am judging\nof this presented object is that it is itself a part of the surface of\nan inkstand--that, therefore, it really is identical with this part of\nthe surface of this inkstand, in spite of the fact that this involves\nthe view that, where, hitherto, I have always supposed myself to be\nperceiving of two presented objects that they really were different, I\nwas, in fact, only perceiving that they _seemed_ to be different. But,\nas I have said, it seems to me quite possible that this view is, as I\nhave hitherto supposed, sheer nonsense; and, in any case, there are, no\ndoubt, other serious objections to the view that this presented object\nis this part of the surface of this inkstand.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CONCEPTION OF INTRINSIC VALUE\n\n\nMy main object in this paper is to try to define more precisely the\nmost important question, which, so far as I can see, is really at issue\nwhen it is disputed with regard to any predicate of value, whether it\nis or is not a \"subjective\" predicate. There are three chief cases in\nwhich this controversy is apt to arise. It arises, first, with regard\nto the conceptions of \"right\" and \"wrong,\" and the closely allied\nconception of \"duty\" or \"what _ought_ to be done.\" It arises, secondly,\nwith regard to \"good\" and \"evil,\" in some sense of those words in which\nthe conceptions for which they stand are certainly quite distinct from\nthe conceptions of \"right\" and \"wrong,\" but in which nevertheless it is\nundeniable that ethics has to deal with them. And it arises, lastly,\nwith regard to certain aesthetic conceptions, such as \"beautiful\" and\n\"ugly;\" or \"good\" and \"bad,\" in the sense in which these words are\napplied to works of art, and in which, therefore, the question what is\ngood and bad is a question not for ethics but for aesthetics.\n\nIn all three cases there are people who maintain that the predicates\nin question are purely \"subjective,\" in a sense which can, I think,\nbe fairly easily defined. I am not here going to attempt a perfectly\naccurate definition of the sense in question; but, as the term\n\"subjective\" is so desperately ambiguous, I had better try to indicate\nroughly the sense I am thinking of. Take the word \"beautiful\" for\nexample. There is a sense of the term \"subjective,\" such that to say\nthat \"beautiful\" stands for a subjective predicate, means, roughly,\nthat any statement of the form \"This is beautiful\" merely expresses a\npsychological assertion to the effect that some particular individual\nor class of individuals either actually has, or would, under certain\ncircumstances, have, a certain kind of mental attitude towards the\nthing in question. And what I mean by \"having a mental attitude\"\ntowards a thing, can be best explained by saying that to desire a thing\nis to have one kind of mental attitude towards it, to be pleased with\nit is to have another, to will it is to have another; and in short\nthat to have any kind of feeling or emotion _towards_ it is to have a\ncertain mental attitude towards it--a different one in each case. Thus\nanyone who holds that when we say that a thing is beautiful, what we\n_mean_ is merely that we ourselves or some particular class of people\nactually do, or would under certain circumstances, have, or permanently\nhave, a certain feeling towards the thing in question, is taking a\n\"subjective\" view of beauty.\n\nBut in all three cases there are also a good many people who hold that\nthe predicates in question are not, in this sense \"subjective\"; and I\nthink that those who hold this are apt to speak as if the view which\nthey wish to maintain in opposition to it consisted simply and solely\nin holding its contradictory--in holding, that is, that the predicates\nin question are \"objective,\" where \"objective\" simply means the same as\n\"not subjective.\" But in fact I think this is hardly ever really the\ncase. In the case of goodness and beauty, what such people are really\nanxious to maintain is by no means merely that these conceptions are\n\"objective,\" but that, besides being \"objective,\" they are also, in\na sense which I shall try to explain, \"intrinsic\" kinds of value.\nIt is this conviction--the conviction that goodness and beauty are\n_intrinsic_ kinds of value, which is, I think, the strongest ground of\ntheir objection to any subjective view. And indeed, when they speak\nof the \"objectivity\" of these conceptions, what they have in mind is,\nI believe, always a conception which has no proper right to be called\n\"objectivity,\" since it includes as an essential part this other\ncharacteristic which I propose to call that of being an \"intrinsic\"\nkind of value.\n\nThe truth is, I believe, that though, from the proposition that a\nparticular kind of value is \"intrinsic\" it does follow that it must\nbe \"objective,\" the converse implication by no means holds, but on\nthe contrary it is perfectly easy to conceive theories of _e.g._\n\"goodness,\" according to which goodness would, in the strictest sense,\nbe \"objective,\" and yet would not be \"intrinsic.\" There is, therefore,\na very important difference between the conception of \"objectivity,\"\nand that which I will call \"internality\" but yet, if I am not mistaken,\nwhen people talk about the \"objectivity\" of any kind of value, they\nalmost always confuse the two, owing to the fact that most of those\nwho deny the \"internality\" of a given kind of value, also assert its\n\"subjectivity.\" How great the difference is, and that it is a fact that\nthose who maintain the \"objectivity\" of goodness do, as a rule, mean by\nthis not mere \"objectivity,\" but \"internality,\" as well, can, I think,\nbe best brought out by considering an instance of a theory, according\nto which goodness would be objective but would not be intrinsic.\n\nLet us suppose it to be held, for instance, that what is meant by\nsaying that one type of human being A is \"better\" than another type B,\nis merely that the course of evolution tends to increase the numbers of\ntype A and to decrease those of type B. Such a view has, in fact, been\noften suggested, even if it has not been held in this exact form; it\namounts merely to the familiar suggestion that \"better\" means \"better\nfitted to survive.\" Obviously \"better,\" on this interpretation of its\nmeaning, is in no sense a \"subjective\" conception: the conception of\nbelonging to a type which tends to be favoured by the struggle for\nexistence more than another is as \"objective\" as any conception can be.\nBut yet, if I am not mistaken, all those who object to a subjective\nview of \"goodness,\" and insist upon its \"objectivity,\" would object\njust as strongly to this interpretation of its meaning as to any\n\"subjective\" interpretation. Obviously, therefore, what they are really\nanxious to contend for is not merely that goodness is \"objective,\"\nsince they are here objecting to a theory which is \"objective;\" but\nsomething else. And this something else is, I think, certainly just\nthat it is \"intrinsic\"--a character which is just as incompatible\nwith this objective evolutionary interpretation as with any and every\nsubjective interpretation. For if you say that to call type A \"better\"\nthan type B means merely that it is more favoured in the struggle for\nexistence, it follows that the being \"better\" is a predicate which does\n_not depend merely on the intrinsic nature of A and B respectively._\nOn the contrary, although here and now A may be more favoured than B,\nit is obvious that under other circumstances or with different natural\nlaws the very same type B might be more favoured than A, so that the\nvery same type which, under one set of circumstances, is better than\nB, would, under another set, be worse. Here, then, we have a case\nwhere an interpretation of \"goodness,\" which does make it \"objective,\"\nis incompatible with its being \"intrinsic.\" And it is just this same\nfact--the fact that, on any \"subjective\" interpretation, the very same\nkind of thing which, under some circumstances, is better than another,\nwould, under others, be worse--which constitutes, so far as I can\nsee, the fundamental objection to all \"subjective\" interpretations.\nObviously, therefore, to express this objection by saying that goodness\nis \"objective\" is very incorrect; since goodness might quite well be\n\"objective\" and yet _not_ possess the very characteristic which it is\nmainly wished to assert that it has.\n\nIn the case, therefore, of ethical and aesthetic \"goodness,\" I think\nthat what those who contend for the \"objectivity\" of these conceptions\nreally wish to contend for is not mere \"objectivity\" at all, but\nprincipally and essentially that they are _intrinsic_ kinds of value.\nBut in the case of \"right\" and \"wrong\" and \"duty,\" the same cannot\nbe said, because many of those who object to the view that these\nconceptions are \"subjective,\" nevertheless do not hold that they are\n\"intrinsic.\" We cannot, therefore, say that what those who contend for\nthe \"objectivity\" of right and wrong really mean is always chiefly\nthat those conceptions are intrinsic, but we can, I think, say that\nwhat they do mean is certainly _not_ \"objectivity\" in this case any\nmore than the other; since here, just as there, it would be possible\nto find certain views, which are in every sense \"objective,\" to\nwhich they would object just as strongly as to any subjective view.\nAnd though what is meant by \"objectivity\" in this case, is not that\n\"right\" and \"wrong\" are _themselves_ \"intrinsic,\" what is, I think,\nmeant here too is that they have a fixed relation to a kind of value\nwhich _is_ \"intrinsic.\" It is this fixed relation to an intrinsic\nkind of value, so far as I can see, which gives to right and wrong\nthat kind and degree of fixity and impartiality which they actually\nare felt to possess, and which is what people are thinking of when\nthey talk of their \"objectivity.\" Here, too, therefore, to talk of\nthe characteristic meant as \"objectivity\" is just as great a misnomer\nas in the other cases; since though it is a characteristic which is\nincompatible with any kind of \"subjectivity,\" it is also incompatible,\nfor the same reason, with many kinds of \"objectivity.\"\n\nFor these reasons I think that what those who contend for the\n\"objectivity\" of certain kinds of value, or for the \"objectivity\" of\njudgments of value, commonly have in mind is not really \"objectivity\"\nat all, but either that the kinds of value in question are themselves\n\"intrinsic,\" or else that they have a fixed relation to some kind that\nis so. The conception upon which they really wish to lay stress is not\nthat of \"objective value,\" but that of \"intrinsic value,\" though they\nconfuse the two. And I think this is the case to a considerable extent\nnot only with the defenders of so-called \"objectivity,\" but also with\nits opponents. Many of those who hold strongly (as many do) that _all_\nkinds of value are \"subjective\" certainly object to the so-called\n\"objective\" view, not so much because it is _objective_, as because it\nis not _naturalistic ox positivistic_--a characteristic which does\nnaturally follow from the contention that value is \"intrinsic,\" but\ndoes not follow from the mere contention that it is \"objective.\" To a\nview which is at the same time both \"naturalistic\" or \"positivistic\"\nand also \"objective,\" such as the Evolutionary view which I sketched\njust now, they do not feel at all the same kind or degree of objection\nas to any so-called \"objective\" view. With regard to so-called\n\"objective\" views they are apt to feel not only that they are false,\nbut that they involve a particularly poisonous kind of falsehood--the\nerecting into a \"metaphysical\" entity of what is really susceptible of\na simple naturalistic explanation. They feel that to hold such a view\nis not merely to make a mistake, but to make a superstitious mistake.\nThey feel the same kind of contempt for those who hold it, which we\nare apt to feel towards those whom we regard as grossly superstitious,\nand which is felt by certain persons for what they call \"metaphysics.\"\nObviously, therefore, what they really object to is not simply the view\nthat these predicates are \"objective,\" but something else--something\nwhich does not at all follow from the contention that they are\n\"objective,\" but which does follow from the contention that they are\n\"intrinsic.\"\n\nIn disputes, therefore, as to whether particular kinds of value are\nor are not \"subjective,\" I think that the issue which is really felt\nto be important, almost always by one side, and often by both, is not\nreally the issue between \"subjective\" and \"non-subjective,\" but between\n\"intrinsic\" and \"non-intrinsic.\" And not only is this felt to be the\nmore important issue; I think it really is so. For the difference that\nmust be made to our view of the Universe, according as we hold that\nsome kinds of value are \"intrinsic\" or that none are, is much greater\nthan any which follows from a mere difference of opinion as to whether\nsome are \"non-subjective,\" or all without exception \"subjective.\" To\nhold that any kinds of value are \"intrinsic\" entails the recognition of\na kind of predicate extremely different from any we should otherwise\nhave to recognise and perhaps unique; whereas it is in any case certain\nthat there are \"objective\" predicates as well as \"subjective.\"\n\nBut now what is this \"internality\" of which I have been speaking?\nWhat is meant by saying with regard to a kind of value that it is\n\"intrinsic?\" To express roughly what is meant is, I think, simple\nenough; and everybody will recognise it at once, as a notion which\nis constantly in people's heads; but I want to dwell upon it at some\nlength, because I know of no place where it is expressly explained and\ndefined, and because, though it seems very simple and fundamental, the\ntask of defining it precisely is by no moans easy and involves some\ndifficulties which I must confess that I do not know how to solve.\n\nI have already given incidentally the main idea in speaking of that\nevolutionary interpretation of \"goodness,\" according to which, as I\nsaid, goodness would be \"objective\" but would not be \"intrinsic.\"\nI there used as equivalent to the assertion that 'better,' on\nthat definition, would not be 'intrinsic,' the assertion that the\nquestion whether one type of being A was better than another B would\n_not_ depend _solely on the intrinsic natures of A and B,_ but on\ncircumstances and the laws of nature. And I think that this phrase will\nin fact suggest to everybody just what I do mean by \"intrinsic\" value.\nWe can, in fact, set up the following definition. _To say that a kind\nof value is \"intrinsic\" means merely that the question whether a thing\npossesses it, and in what degree it possesses it, depends solely on the\nintrinsic nature of the thing in question._\n\nBut though this definition does, I think, convey exactly what I mean,\nI want to dwell upon its meaning, partly because the conception of\n'differing in intrinsic nature which I believe to be of fundamental\nimportance, is liable to be confused with other conceptions, and partly\nbecause the definition involves notions, which I do not know how to\ndefine exactly.\n\nWhen I say, with regard to any particular kind of value, that the\nquestion whether and in what degree anything possesses it _depends\nsolely on the intrinsic nature of the thing in question_, I mean to say\ntwo different things at the same time. I mean to say (1) that it is\n_impossible_ for what is strictly _one and the same_ thing to possess\nthat kind of value at one time, or in one set of circumstances, and\n_not_ to possess it at another; and equally _impossible_ for it to\npossess it in one degree at one time, or in one set of circumstances,\nand to possess it in a different degree at another, or in a different\nset. This, I think, is obviously part of what is naturally conveyed by\nsaying that the question whether and in what degree a thing possesses\nthe kind of value in question always depends _solely_ on the intrinsic\nnature of the thing. For if _x_ and _y_ have different intrinsic\nnatures, it follows that _x_ cannot be quite strictly one and the same\nthing as _y_; and hence if _x_ and _y_ can have a different intrinsic\nvalue, only where their intrinsic natures are different, it follows\nthat one and the same thing must always have the same intrinsic value.\nThis, then, is part of what is meant; and about this part I think I\nneed say no more, except to call attention to the fact that it involves\na conception, which as we shall see is also involved in the other part,\nand which involves the same difficulty in both cases--I mean, the\nconception which is expressed by the word 'impossible.' (2) The second\npart of what is meant is that if a given thing possesses any kind of\nintrinsic value in a certain degree, then not only must that same thing\npossess it, under all circumstances, in the same degree, but also\nanything _exactly like_ it, must, under all circumstances, possess it\nin exactly the same degree. Or to put it in the corresponding negative\nform: It is _impossible_ that of two exactly similar things one should\npossess it and the other not, or that one should possess it in one\ndegree, and the other in a different one.\n\nI think this second proposition also is naturally conveyed by saying\nthat the kind of value in question depends solely on the intrinsic\nnature of what possesses it. For we should naturally say of two\nthings which were _exactly alike_ intrinsically, in spite of their\nbeing _two,_ that they possessed the _same_ intrinsic nature. But\nit is important to call attention expressly to the fact that what\nI mean by the expression 'having a different intrinsic nature' is\nequivalent to 'not exactly alike' because here there is real risk of\nconfusion between this conception and a different one. This comes\nabout as follows. It is natural to suppose that the phrase 'having a\ndifferent intrinsic nature' is equivalent to the phrase 'intrinsically\ndifferent' or 'having different intrinsic properties.' But, if we do\nmake this identification, there is a risk of confusion. For it is\nobvious that there is a sense in which, when things are exactly like,\nthey must be 'intrinsically different' and have different intrinsic\nproperties, merely because they are two. For instance, two patches of\ncolour may be exactly alike, in spite of the fact that each possesses a\nconstituent which the other does not possess, provided only that their\ntwo constituents are exactly alike. And yet, in a certain sense, it\nis obvious that the fact that each has a constituent, which the other\nhas not got, does constitute an intrinsic difference between them, and\nimplies that each has an intrinsic property which the other has not\ngot. And even where the two things are simple the mere fact that they\nare _numerically_ different does in a sense constitute an intrinsic\ndifference between them, and each will have at least one intrinsic\nproperty which the other has not got--namely that of being identical\nwith itself. It is obvious therefore that the phrases 'intrinsically\ndifferent' and 'having different intrinsic properties' are ambiguous.\nThey may be used in such a sense that to say of two things that they\nare intrinsically different or have different intrinsic properties does\n_not_ imply that they are not exactly alike, but only that they are\n_numerically_ different. Or they may be used in a sense in which two\nthings can be said to be intrinsically different, and to have different\nintrinsic properties _only_ when they are not exactly alike. It is,\ntherefore, extremely important to insist that when I say: Two things\ncan differ in intrinsic value, only when they have different intrinsic\nnatures, I am using the expression 'having different intrinsic natures'\nin the latter sense and not the former:--in a sense in which the mere\nfact that two things are two, or differ numerically, does _not_ imply\nthat they have different intrinsic natures, but in which they can\nbe said to have different intrinsic natures, _only_ where, besides\ndiffering numerically, they are also _not_ exactly alike.\n\nBut as soon as this is explained, another risk of confusion arises\nowing to the fact that when people contrast mere numerical difference\nwith a kind of intrinsic difference, which is _not_ merely numerical,\nthey are apt to identify the latter with _qualitative_ difference. It\nmight, therefore, easily be thought that by 'difference in intrinsic\nnature' I mean 'difference in quality.' But this identification of\ndifference in quality with difference in intrinsic nature would also\nbe a mistake. It is true that what is commonly meant by difference\nof quality, in the strict sense, always is a difference of intrinsic\nnature: two things cannot differ in quality without differing in\nintrinsic nature; and that fact is one of the most important facts\nabout qualitative difference. But the converse is by no means also\ntrue: although two things cannot differ in quality without differing in\nintrinsic nature, they can differ in intrinsic nature without differing\nin quality; or, in other words, difference in quality is only _one_\nspecies of difference in intrinsic nature. That this is so follows\nfrom the fact that, as I explained, I am using the phrase 'different\nin intrinsic nature' as equivalent to 'not exactly like for it is\nquite plain that two things may not be exactly alike, in spite of the\nfact that they don't differ in quality, _e.g._ if the only difference\nbetween them were in respect of the _degree_ in which they possess\nsome quality they do possess. Nobody would say that a very loud sound\nwas exactly like a very soft one, even if they were exactly like in\nquality; and yet it is plain there is a sense in which their intrinsic\nnature is different For this reason alone qualitative difference cannot\nbe identified with difference in intrinsic nature. And there are still\nother reasons. Difference in size, for instance may be a difference\nin intrinsic nature, in the sense I mean, but it can hardly be called\na difference in quality. Or take such a difference as the difference\nbetween two patterns consisting in the fact that the one is a yellow\ncircle with a red spot in the middle, and the other a yellow circle\nwith a blue spot in the middle. This difference would perhaps be\nloosely called a difference of quality; but obviously it would be more\naccurate to call it a difference which consists in the fact that the\none pattern has a _constituent_ which is qualitatively different from\nany which the other has; and the difference between being qualitatively\ndifferent and having qualitatively different constituents is important\nboth because the latter can only be defined in terms of the former, and\nbecause it is possible for simple things to differ from one another\nin the former way, whereas it is only possible for complex things to\ndiffer in the latter.\n\nI hope this is sufficient to make clear exactly what the conception is\nwhich I am expressing by the phrase \"different in intrinsic nature.\"\nThe important points are (1) that it is a kind of difference which\ndoes _not_ hold between two things, when they are _merely_ numerically\ndifferent, but only when, besides being numerically different, they\nare also _not_ exactly alike and (2) that it is _not_ identical\nwith qualitative difference; although qualitative difference is one\nparticular species of it. The conception seems to me to be an extremely\nimportant and fundamental one, although, so far as I can see, it has no\nquite simple and unambiguous name: and this is the reason why I have\ndwelt on it at such length. \"Not exactly like\" is the least ambiguous\nway of expressing it; but this has the disadvantage that it looks as\nif the idea of exact likeness were the fundamental one from which this\nwas derived, whereas I believe the contrary to be the case. For this\nreason it is perhaps better to stick to the cumbrous phrase \"different\nin intrinsic nature.\"\n\nSo much for the question what is meant by saying of two things that\nthey \"differ in intrinsic nature.\" We have now to turn to the more\ndifficult question as to what is meant by the words \"impossible\" and\n\"necessary\" in the statement: A kind of value is intrinsic if and only\nif, it is _impossible_ that _x_ and _y_ should have different values of\nthe kind, unless they differ in intrinsic nature; and in the equivalent\nstatement: A kind of value is intrinsic if and only if, when anything\npossesses it, that same thing or anything exactly like it would\n_necessarily_ or _must_ always, under all circumstances, possess it in\nexactly the same degree.\n\nAs regards the meaning of this necessity and impossibility, we may\nbegin by making two points clear.\n\n(1) It is sometimes contended, and with some plausibility, that what\nwe mean by saying that it is _possible_ for a thing which possesses\none predicate F to possess another G, is, sometimes at least, merely\nthat some things which possess F do in fact also possess G. And if\nwe give this meaning to \"possible,\" the corresponding meaning of the\nstatement it is _impossible_ for a thing which possesses F to possess\nG will be merely: Things which possess F never do in fact possess G.\nIf, then, we understood \"impossible\" in this sense, the condition for\nthe \"internality\" of a kind of value, which I have stated by saying\nthat if a kind of value is to be \"intrinsic\" it must be _impossible_\nfor two things to possess it in different degrees, if they are exactly\nlike one another, will amount merely to saying that no two things\nwhich are exactly like one another ever do, in fact, possess it in\ndifferent degrees. It follows, that, if this were all that were meant,\nthis condition would be satisfied, if only it were true (as for all\nI know it may be) that, in the case of all things which possess any\nparticular kind of intrinsic value, there happens to be nothing else\nin the Universe exactly like any one of them; for if this were so, it\nwould, of course, follow that no two things which are exactly alike did\nin fact possess the kind of value in question in different degrees,\nfor the simple reason that everything which possessed it at all would\nbe unique in the sense that there was nothing else exactly like it. If\nthis were all that were meant, therefore, we could prove any particular\nkind of value to satisfy this condition, by merely proving that there\nnever has in fact and never will be anything exactly like any one of\nthe things which possess it: and our assertion that it satisfied this\ncondition would merely be an empirical generalisation. Moreover if\nthis were all that was meant it would obviously be by no means certain\nthat purely subjective predicates could not satisfy the condition in\nquestion; since it would be satisfied by any subjective predicate of\nwhich it happened to be true that everything which possessed it was,\nin fact, unique--that there was nothing exactly like it; and for all\nI know there may be many subjective predicates of which this is true.\nIt is, therefore, scarcely necessary to say that I am not using\n\"impossible\" in this sense. When I say that a kind of value, to be\nintrinsic, must satisfy the condition that it must be _impossible_ for\ntwo things exactly alike to possess it in different degrees, I do not\nmean by this condition anything which a kind of value could be proved\nto satisfy, by the mere empirical fact that there was nothing else\nexactly like any of the things which possessed it. It is, of course,\nan essential part of my meaning that we must be able to say not merely\nthat no two exactly similar things do _in fact_ possess it in different\ndegrees, but that, _if_ there had been or were going to be anything\nexactly similar to a thing which does possess it, even though, in\nfact, there has not and won't be any such thing, that thing would have\npossessed or would possess the kind of value in question in exactly the\nsame degree. It is essential to this meaning of \"impossibility\" that\nit should entitle us to assert what _would_ have been the case, under\nconditions which never have been and never will be realised; and it\nseems obvious that no mere empirical generalisation can entitle us to\ndo this.\n\nBut (2) to say that I am not using 'necessity' in this first sense,\nis by no means sufficient to explain what I do mean. For it certainly\nseems as if causal laws (though this is disputed) do entitle us to make\nassertions of the very kind that mere empirical generalisations do not\nentitle us to make. In virtue of a causal law we do seem to be entitled\nto assert such things as that, if a given thing had had a property\nor were to have a property F which it didn't have or won't have, it\n_would_ have had or _would_ have some other property G. And it might,\ntherefore, be thought that the kind of 'necessity' and 'impossibility'\nI am talking of is this kind of causal 'necessity' and 'impossibility.'\nIt is, therefore, important to insist that I do _not_ mean this kind\neither. If this were all I meant, it would again be by no means\nobvious, that purely subjective predicates might not satisfy our second\ncondition. It may, for instance, for all I know, be true that there\nare causal laws which insure that in the case of everything that is\n'beautiful,' anything exactly like any of these things would, in this\nUniverse, excite a particular kind of feeling in everybody to whom it\nwere presented in a particular way: and if that were so, we should have\na subjective predicate which satisfied the condition that, when a given\nthing possesses that predicate, it is impossible (in the causal sense)\nthat any exactly similar thing should not also possess it. The kind\nof necessity I am talking of is not, therefore, mere causal necessity\neither. When I say that if a given thing possesses a certain degree of\nintrinsic value, anything precisely similar to it _would_ necessarily\n_have_ possessed that value in exactly the same degree, I mean that it\n_would_ have done so, even if it had existed in a Universe in which\nthe causal laws were quite different from what they are in this one. I\nmean, in short, that it is _impossible_ for any precisely similar thing\nto possess a different value, in precisely such a sense as that, in\nwhich it is, I think, generally admitted that it is _not_ impossible\nthat causal laws should have been different from what they are--a sense\nof impossibility, therefore, which certainly does not depend merely on\ncausal laws.\n\nThat there is such a sense of necessity--a sense which entitles us to\nsay that what has F _would have_ G, even if causal laws were quite\ndifferent from what they are--is, I think, quite clear from such\ninstances as the following. Suppose you take a particular patch of\ncolour, which is yellow. We can, I think, say with certainty that any\npatch exactly like that one, _would_ be yellow, even if it existed in\na Universe in which causal laws were quite different from what they\nare in this one. We can say that any such patch _must_ be yellow,\nquite unconditionally, whatever the circumstances, and whatever\nthe causal laws. And it is in a sense similar to this, in respect\nof the fact that it is neither empirical nor causal, that I mean\nthe 'must' to be understood, when I say that if a kind of value is\nto be 'intrinsic,' then, supposing a given-thing possesses it in a\ncertain degree, anything exactly like that thing _must_ possess it in\nexactly the same degree. To say, of 'beauty' or 'goodness' that they\nare 'intrinsic' is only, therefore, to say that this thing which is\nobviously true of 'yellowness' and 'blueness' and 'redness' is true\nof them. And if we give this sense to 'must' in our definition, then\nI think it is obvious that to say of a given kind of value that it is\nintrinsic _is_ inconsistent with its being 'subjective.' For there\nis, I think, pretty clearly no subjective predicate of which we can\nsay thus unconditionally, that, _if_ a given thing possesses it, then\nanything exactly like that thing, _would,_ under any circumstances, and\nunder any causal laws, also possess it. For instance, whatever kind of\nfeeling you take, it is plainly not true that supposing I have that\nfeeling towards a given thing A, then _I_ should necessarily under any\ncircumstances have that feeling towards anything precisely similar to\nA: for the simple reason that a thing precisely similar to A _might_\nexist in a Universe in which I did not exist at all. And similarly\nit is not true of any feeling whatever, that if _somebody_ has that\nfeeling towards a given thing A, then, in arty Universe, in which\na thing precisely similar to A existed, _somebody_ would have that\nfeeling towards it. Nor finally is it even true, that if it is true of\na given thing A, that, under actual causal laws, any one to whom A were\npresented in a certain way _would_ have a certain feeling towards it,\nthen the same hypothetical predicate would, in any Universe, belong to\nanything precisely similar to A: in every case it seems to be possible\nthat there _might_ be a Universe, in which the causal laws were such\nthat the proposition would not be true.\n\nIt is, then, because in my definition of 'intrinsic' value the 'must'\nis to be understood in this unconditional sense, that I think that the\nproposition that a kind of value is 'intrinsic' is inconsistent with\nits being subjective. But it should be observed that in holding that\nthere is this inconsistency, I am contradicting a doctrine which seems\nto be held by many philosophers. There are, as you probably know, some\nphilosophers who insist strongly on a doctrine which they express by\nsaying that no relations are purely external. And so far as I can make\nout one thing which they mean by this is just that, whenever r has any\nrelation whatever which _y_ has not got, _x_ and _y cannot_ be exactly\nalike: That any difference in relation necessarily entails a difference\nin intrinsic nature. There is, I think, no doubt that when these\nphilosophers say this, they mean by their 'cannot' and 'necessarily'\nan unconditional 'cannot' and 'must.' And hence it follows they are\nholding that, if, for instance, a thing A pleases me now, then any\nother thing, B, precisely similar to A, must, under any circumstances,\nand in any Universe, please me also: since, if B did not please me, it\nwould _not_ possess a relation which A does possess, and therefore, by\ntheir principle, _could_ not be precisely similar to A_--must_ differ\nfrom it in intrinsic nature. But it seems to me to be obvious that this\nprinciple is false. If it were true, it would follow that I can know _a\npriori_ such things as that no patch of colour which is seen by you and\nis not seen by me is ever exactly like any patch which is seen by me\nand is not seen by you; or that no patch of colour which is surrounded\nby a red ring is ever exactly like one which is not so surrounded. But\nit is surely obvious, that, whether these things are true or not they\nare things which I cannot know _a priori._ It is simply _not_ evident\n_a priori_ that no patch of colour which is seen by A and not by B is\never exactly like one which is seen by B and not by A, and that no\npatch of colour which is surrounded by a red ring is ever exactly like\none which is not. And this illustration serves to bring out very well\nboth what is meant by saying of such a predicate as 'beautiful 'that\nit is intrinsic,' and why, if it is, it cannot be subjective. What is\nmeant is just that if A is beautiful and B is not, you could know _a\npriori_ that A and B are _not_ exactly alike; whereas, with any such\nsubjective predicate, as that of exciting a particular feeling in me,\nor that of being a thing which would excite such a feeling in any\nspectator, you cannot tell _a priori_ that a thing A which did possess\nsuch a predicate and a thing B which did not, could not be exactly\nalike.\n\nIt seems to me, therefore, quite certain, in spite of the dogma that no\nrelations are purely external, that there are many predicates, such for\ninstance as most (if not all) subjective predicates or the objective\none of being surrounded by a red ring, which do _not_ depend solely\non the intrinsic nature of what possesses them: or, in other words,\nof which it is _not_ true that if _x_ possesses them and _y_ does\nnot, _x_ and _y must_ differ in intrinsic nature. But what precisely\nis meant by this unconditional 'must,' I must confess I don't know.\nThe obvious thing to suggest is that it is the logical 'must,' which\ncertainly is unconditional in just this sense: the kind of necessity,\nwhich we assert to hold, for instance, when we say that whatever is a\nright-angled triangle _must_ be a triangle, or that whatever is yellow\n_must_ be either yellow or blue. But I must say I cannot see that\nall unconditional necessity is of this nature. I do not see how it\ncan be deduced from any logical law that, if a given patch of colour\nbe yellow, then any patch which were exactly like the first would be\nyellow too. And similarly in our case of 'intrinsic' value, though I\nthink it is true that beauty, for instance, is 'intrinsic,' I do not\nsee how it can be deduced from any logical law, that if A is beautiful,\nanything that were exactly like A would be beautiful too, in exactly\nthe same degree.\n\nMoreover, though I do believe that both \"yellow\" (in the sense in\nwhich it applies to sense-data) and \"beautiful\" are predicates which,\nin this unconditional sense, depend only on the intrinsic nature of\nwhat possesses them, there seems to me to be an extremely important\ndifference between them which constitutes a further difficulty in the\nway of getting quite clear as to what this unconditional sense of\n\"must\" is. The difference I mean is one which I am inclined to express\nby saying that though both yellowness and beauty are predicates which\n_depend_ only on the intrinsic nature of what possesses them, yet\nwhile yellowness is itself an _intrinsic_ predicate, _beauty_ is not.\nIndeed it seems to me to be one of the most important truths about\npredicates of value, that though many of them _are_ intrinsic kinds of\nvalue, in the sense I have defined, yet _none_ of them are intrinsic\nproperties, in the sense in which such properties as \"yellow\" or the\nproperty of \"being a state of pleasure\" or \"being a state of things\nwhich contains a balance of pleasure\" are intrinsic properties. It is\nobvious, for instance, that, if we are to reject _all_ naturalistic\ntheories of value, we must not only reject those theories, according to\nwhich no kind of value would be intrinsic, but must also reject such\ntheories as those which assert, for instance, that to say that a state\nof mind is good is to say that it is a state of being pleased; or\nthat to say that a state of things is good is to say that it contains\na balance of pleasure over pain. There are, in short, two entirely\ndifferent types of naturalistic theory, the difference between which\nmay be illustrated by the difference between the assertion, \"A is good\"\n_means_ \"A is pleasant\" and the assertion \"A is good\" _means_ \"A is a\nstate of pleasure.\" Theories of the former type imply that goodness is\n_not_ an intrinsic kind of value, whereas theories of the latter type\nimply equally emphatically that it is: since obviously such predicates\nas that \"of being a state of pleasure,\" or \"containing a balance of\npleasure,\" _are_ predicates like \"yellow\" in respect of the fact that\nif a given thing possesses them, anything exactly like the thing in\nquestion must possess them. It seems to me equally obvious that _both_\ntypes of theory are false: but I do not know how to exclude them both\nexcept by saying that two different propositions are both true of\n_goodness_, namely: (1) that it does depend _only_ on the intrinsic\nnature of what possesses it--which excludes theories of the first type\nand (2) that, _though_ this is so, it is yet not itself an intrinsic\nproperty--which excludes those of the second. It was for this reason\nthat I said above that, if there are any intrinsic kinds of value,\nthey would constitute a class of predicates which is, perhaps, unique;\nfor I cannot think of any other predicate which resembles them in\nrespect of the fact, that though _not_ itself intrinsic, it yet shares\nwith intrinsic properties the characteristics of depending solely on\nthe intrinsic nature of what possesses it. So far as I know, certain\npredicates of value are the only non-intrinsic properties which share\nwith intrinsic properties this characteristic of depending only on the\nintrinsic nature of what possesses them.\n\nIf, however, we are thus to say that predicates of value, though\n_dependent_ solely on intrinsic properties, are not themselves\nintrinsic properties, there must be some characteristic belonging to\nintrinsic properties which predicates of value never possess. And\nit seems to me quite obvious that there is; only I can't see _what_\nit is. It seems to me quite obvious that if you assert of a given\nstate of things that it contains a balance of pleasure over pain, you\nare asserting of it not only a _different_ predicate, from what you\nwould be asserting of it if you said it was \"good\"--but a predicate\nwhich is of quite a different _kind_; and in the same way that when\nyou assert of a patch of colour that it is \"yellow,\" the predicate\nyou assert is not only _different_ from \"beautiful,\" but of quite a\ndifferent _kind,_ in the same way as before. And of course the mere\nfact that many people have thought that goodness and beauty were\nsubjective is evidence that there is _some_ great difference of kind\nbetween them and such predicates as being yellow or containing a\nbalance of pleasure. But _what_ the difference is, if we suppose, as I\nsuppose, that goodness and beauty are _not_ subjective, and that they\ndo share with \"yellowness\" and \"containing pleasure,\" the property\nof depending _solely_ on the intrinsic nature of what possesses\nthem, I confess I cannot say. I can only vaguely express the kind of\ndifference I feel there to be by saying that intrinsic properties seem\nto _describe_ the intrinsic nature of what possesses them in a sense\nin which predicates of value never do. If you could enumerate _all_\nthe intrinsic properties a given thing possessed, you would have given\na _complete_ description of it, and would not need to mention any\npredicates of value it possessed; whereas no description of a given\nthing could be _complete_ which omitted any intrinsic property. But,\nin any case, owing to the fact that predicates of intrinsic value are\nnot themselves intrinsic properties, you cannot define \"intrinsic\nproperty,\" in the way which at first sight seems obviously the right\none. You cannot say that an intrinsic property is a property such that,\nif one thing possesses it and another does not, the intrinsic nature of\nthe two things _must_ be different. For this is the very thing which we\nare maintaining to be true of predicates of intrinsic value, while at\nthe same time we say that they are _not_ intrinsic properties. Such a\ndefinition of \"intrinsic property\" would therefore only be possible if,\nwe could say that the necessity there is that, if _x_ and _y_ possess\ndifferent intrinsic properties, their nature must be different, is a\nnecessity of a _different kind_ from the necessity there is that, if\n_x_ and _y_ are of different intrinsic values, their nature must be\ndifferent, although both necessities are unconditional. And it seems to\nme possible that this is the true explanation. But, if so, it obviously\nadds to the difficulty of explaining the meaning of the unconditional\n\"must,\" since, in this case, there would be two different meanings of\n\"must,\" both unconditional, and yet neither, apparently, identical with\nthe logical \"must.\"\n\n\n\n\nEXTERNAL AND INTERNAL RELATIONS\n\n\n[Propositions and terms surrounded by \"\u00b0\" are \"over-ligned\" in original.]\n\nIn the index to _Appearance and Reality_ (First Edition) Mr. Bradley\ndeclares that _all_ relations are \"intrinsical\"; and the following are\nsome of the phrases by means of which he tries to explain what he means\nby this assertion. \"A relation must at both ends _affect,_ and pass\ninto, the being of its terms\" (p. 364). \"Every relation essentially\npenetrates the being of its terms, and is, in this sense, intrinsical\"\n(p. 392). \"To stand in a relation and not to be relative, to support\nit and yet not to be infected and undermined by it, seems out of the\nquestion\" (p. 142). And a good many other philosophers seem inclined to\ntake the same view about relations which Mr. Bradley is here trying to\nexpress. Other phrases which seem to be sometimes used to express it,\nor a part of it, are these: \"No relations are purely external\"; \"All\nrelations qualify or modify or make a difference to the terms between\nwhich they hold\"; \"No terms are independent of any of the relations in\nwhich they stand to other terms.\" (See _e.g.,_ Joachim, _The Nature of\nTruth,_ pp. 11, 12, 46).\n\nIt is, I think, by no means easy to make out exactly what these\nphilosophers mean by these assertions. And the main object of this\npaper is to try to define clearly one proposition, which, even if it\ndoes not give the whole of what they mean, seems to me to be always\nimplied by what they mean, and to be certainly false. I shall try to\nmake clear the exact meaning of this proposition, to point out some\nof its most important consequences, and to distinguish it clearly\nfrom certain other propositions which are, I think, more or less\nliable to be confused with it. And I shall maintain that, if we give\nto the assertion that a relation is \"internal\" the meaning which this\nproposition would give to it, then, though, in that sense, _some_\nrelations are \"internal,\" others, no less certainly, are not, but are\n\"purely external.\"\n\nTo begin with, we may, I think, clear the ground, by putting on\none side two propositions about relations, which, though they seem\nsometimes to be confused with the view we are discussing, do, I think,\nquite certainly not give the whole meaning of that view.\n\nThe first is a proposition which is quite certainly and obviously true\nof all relations, without exception, and which, though it raises points\nof great difficulty, can, I think, be clearly enough stated for its\ntruth to be obvious. It is the proposition that, in the case of any\nrelation whatever, the kind of fact which we express by saying that\na given term A has that relation to another term B, or to a pair of\nterms B and C, or to three terms B, C, and D, and so on, in no case\nsimply consists in the terms in question _together with_ the relation.\nThus the fact which we express by saying that Edward VII was father\nof George V, obviously does not simply consist in Edward, George,\n_and_ the relation of fatherhood. In order that the fact may be, it\nis obviously not sufficient that there should merely be George and\nEdward and the relation of fatherhood; it is further necessary that the\nrelation should _relate_ Edward to George, and not only so, but also\nthat it should relate them in the particular way which we express by\nsaying that Edward was father of George, and not merely in the way\nwhich we should express by saying that George was father of Edward.\nThis proposition is, I think, obviously true of all relations without\nexception: and the only reason why I have mentioned it is because,\nin an article in which Mr. Bradley criticises Mr. Russell (_Mind,_\n1910, p. 179), he seems to suggest that it is inconsistent with the\nproposition that any relations are merely external, and because, so far\nas I can make out, some other people who maintain that all relations\nare internal seem sometimes to think that their contention follows\nfrom this proposition. The way in which Mr. Bradley puts it is that\nsuch facts are unities which are not _completely analysable_; and this\nis, of course, true, if it means merely that in the case of no such\nfact is there any set of constituents of which we can truly say: This\nfact is _identical with_ these constituents. But whether from this it\nfollows that all relations are internal must of course depend upon\nwhat is meant by the latter statement. If it be merely used to express\nthis proposition itself, or anything which follows from it, then, of\ncourse, there can be no doubt that all relations are internal. But I\nthink there is no doubt that those who say this do not mean by their\nwords _merely_ this obvious proposition itself; and I am going to point\nout something which I think they always imply, and which certainly does\n_not_ follow from it.\n\nThe second proposition which, I think, may be put aside at once as\ncertainly not giving the whole of what is meant, is the proposition\nwhich is, I think, the natural meaning of the phrases \"All relations\nmodify or affect their terms\" or \"All relations make a difference to\ntheir terms.\" There is one perfectly natural and intelligible sense in\nwhich a given relation may be said to modify a term which stands in\nthat relation, namely, the sense in which we should say that, if, by\nputting a stick of sealing-wax into a flame, we make the sealing-wax\nmelt, its relationship to the flame has modified the sealing-wax.\nThis is a sense of the word \"modify\" in which part of what is meant\nby saying of any term that it is modified, is that it has actually\nundergone a change: and I think it is clear that a sense in which this\nis part of its meaning is the only one in which the word \"modify\" can\nproperly be used. If, however, those who say that all relations modify\ntheir terms were using the word in this, its proper, sense, part of\nwhat would be meant by this assertion would be that all terms which\nhave relations at all actually undergo changes. Such an assertion would\nbe obviously false, for the simple reason that there are terms which\nhave relation? and which yet never change at all. And I think it is\nquite clear that those who assert that all relations are internal, in\nthe sense we are concerned with, mean by this something which could be\nconsistently asserted to be true of all relations without exception,\neven if it were admitted that some terms which have relations do\nnot change. When, therefore, they use the phrase that all relations\n\"modify\" their terms as equivalent to \"all relations are internal,\"\nthey must be using \"modify\" in some metaphorical sense other than its\nnatural one. I think, indeed, that most of them would be inclined to\nassert that in every case in which a term A comes to have to another\nterm B a relation, which it did not have to B in some immediately\npreceding interval, its having of that relation to that term causes\nit to undergo some change, which it would not have undergone if it\nhad not stood in precisely that relation to B and I think perhaps\nthey would think that this proposition follows from some proposition\nwhich is true of all relations, without exception, and which is what\nthey mean by saying that all relations are internal. The question\nwhether the coming into a new relation does thus always cause some\nmodification in the term which comes into it is one which is often\ndiscussed, as if it had something to do with the question whether all\nrelations are internal as when, for instance, it is discussed whether\nknowledge of a thing alters the thing known. And for my part I should\nmaintain that this proposition is certainly not true. But what I am\nconcerned with now is not the question whether it is true, but simply\nto point out that, so far as I can see, it can have nothing to do\nwith the question whether all relations are internal, for the simple\nreason that it cannot possibly follow from any proposition with regard\nto _all_ relations without exception. It asserts with regard to all\nrelational properties of a certain kind, that they have a certain kind\nof _effect_; and no proposition of this sort can, I think follow from\nany universal proposition with regard to _all_ relations.\n\nWe have, therefore, rejected as certainly not giving the whole meaning\nof the dogma that all relations are internal: (1) the obviously true\nproposition that no relational facts are _completely_ analysable,\nin the precise sense which I gave to that assertion; and (2) the\nobviously false proposition that all relations modify their terms,\nin the natural sense of the term \"modify,\" in which it always has as\npart of its meaning \"cause to undergo a change.\" And we have also seen\nthat this false proposition that any relation which a term comes to\nhave always causes it to undergo a change is wholly irrelevant to the\nquestion whether _all_ relations are internal or not. We have seen\nfinally that if the assertion that all relations modify their terms is\nto be understood as equivalent to the assertion that all are internal,\n\"modify\" must be understood in some metaphorical sense. The question\nis: What is this metaphorical sense?\n\nAnd one point is, I think, pretty clear to begin with. It is obvious\nthat, in the case of some relations, a given term A may have the\nrelation in question, not only to one other term, but to several\ndifferent terms. If, for instance, we consider the relation of\nfatherhood, it is obvious that a man may be father, not only of\none, but of several different children. And those who say that all\nrelations modify their terms always mean, I think, not merely that\nevery different relation which a term has modifies it; but also that,\nwhere the relation is one which the term has to several different other\nterms, then, in the case of _each_ of these terms, it is modified by\nthe fact that it has the relation in question to that particular term.\nIf, for instance, A is father of three children, B, C, and D, they\nmean to assert that he is modified, not merely by being a father, but\nby being the father of B, also by being the father of C, and also by\nbeing the father of D. The mere assertion that all _relations_ modify\ntheir terms does not, of course, make it quite clear that this is what\nis meant; but I think there is no doubt that it is always meant; and\nI think we can express it more clearly by using a term, which I have\nalready introduced, and saying the doctrine is that all _relational\nproperties_ modify their terms, in a sense which remains to be\ndefined. I think there is no difficulty in understanding what I mean\nby a _relational property._ If A is father of B, then what you assert\nof A when you say that he is so is a _relational property_--namely\nthe property of being father of B; and it is quite clear that this\nproperty is not itself a _relation_, in the same fundamental sense\nin which the relation of fatherhood is so; and also that, if C is a\ndifferent child from B, then the property of being father of C is a\ndifferent relational property from that of being father of B, although\nthere is only _one_ relation, that of fatherhood, from which both are\nderived. So far as I can make out, those philosophers who talk of\nall _relations_ being internal, often actually mean by \"relations\"\n\"relational properties\"; when they talk of all the \"relations\" of a\ngiven term, they mean all its relational properties, and not merely\nall the different relations, of each of which it is true that the term\nhas that relation to something. It will, I think, conduce to clearness\nto use a different word for these two entirely different uses of the\nterm \"relation\" to call \"fatherhood\" a relation, and \"fatherhood of\nB\" a \"relational property.\" And the fundamental proposition, which is\nmeant by the assertion that all relations are internal, is, I think, a\nproposition with regard to relational properties, and not with regard\nto relations properly so-called. There is no doubt that those who\nmaintain this dogma mean to maintain that all relational properties are\nrelated in a peculiar way to the terms which possess them--that they\nmodify or are internal to them, in some metaphorical sense. And once we\nhave defined what this sense is in which a _relational property_ can be\nsaid to be internal to a term which possesses it, we can easily derive\nfrom it a corresponding sense in which the _relations_, strictly so\ncalled, from which relational properties are derived, can be said to be\ninternal.\n\nOur question is then: What is the metaphorical sense of \"modify\" in\nwhich the proposition that all relations are internal is equivalent to\nthe proposition that all relational properties \"modify\" the terms which\npossess them? I think it is clear that the term \"modify\" would never\nhave been used at all to express the relation meant, unless there had\nbeen some analogy between this relation and that which we have seen is\nthe proper sense of \"modify,\" namely, _causes_ to change. And I think\nwe can see where the analogy comes in by considering the statement,\nwith regard to any particular term A and any relational property P\nwhich belongs to it, that A _would have been different from what it\nis if it had not had_ P: the statement, for instance, that Edward VII\nwould have been different if he had not been father of George V. This\nis a thing which we can obviously truly say of A and P, in some sense,\nwhenever it is true of P that it _modified_ A in the proper sense of\nthe word: if the being held in the flame causes the sealing-wax to\nmelt, we can truly say (in some sense) that the sealing-wax would not\nhave been in a melted state if it had not been in the flame. But it\nseems as if it were a thing which might also be true of A and P, where\nit is _not_ true that the possession of P _caused_ A to change; since\nthe mere assertion that A would have been different, if it had not\nhad P, does not necessarily imply that the possession of P _caused\nA_ to have any property which it would not have had otherwise. And\nthose who say that all relations are internal do sometimes tend to\nspeak as if what they meant could be put in the form: In the case of\nevery relational property which a thing has, it is always true that\nthe thing which has it would have been different if it had not had\nthat property; they sometimes say even: If P be a relational property\nand A a term which has it, then it is always true that A _would not\nhave been A_ if it had not had P. This is, I think, obviously a clumsy\nway of expressing anything which could possibly be true, since, taken\nstrictly, it implies the self-contradictory proposition that if A had\nnot had P, it would not have been true that A did not have P. But it\nis nevertheless a more or less natural way of expressing a proposition\nwhich might quite well be true, namely, that, supposing A has P, then\nanything which had not had P would necessarily have been different\nfrom A. This is the proposition which I wish to suggest as giving the\nmetaphorical meaning of \"P _modifies_ A,\" of which we are in search.\nIt is a proposition to which I think a perfectly precise meaning can\nbe given, and one which does not at all imply that the possession of P\n_caused_ any change in A, but which might conceivably be true of all\nterms and all the relational properties they have, without exception.\nAnd it seems to me that it is not unnatural that the proposition that\nthis is true of P and A, should have been expressed in the form, \"P\nmodifies A,\" since it can be more or less naturally expressed in the\nperverted form, \"If A had not had P it would have been different,\"--a\nform of words, which, as we saw, can also be used whenever P does, in\nthe proper sense, modify A.\n\nI want to suggest, then, that one thing which is always implied by\nthe dogma that, \"All relations are internal,\" is that, in the case of\nevery relational property, it can always be truly asserted of any term\nA which has that property, that any term which had not had it would\nnecessarily have been different from A.\n\nThis is the proposition to which I want to direct attention. And there\nare two phrases in it, which require some further explanation.\n\nThe first is the phrase \"would necessarily have been.\" And the meaning\nof this can be explained, in a preliminary way, as follows:--To say\nof a pair of properties P and Q, that any term which had had P would\nnecessarily have had Q, is equivalent to saying that, in every case,\nfrom the proposition with regard to any given term that it has P, it\n_follows_ that that term has Q: _follows_ being understood in the sense\nin which from the proposition with regard to any term, that it is a\nright angle, it _follows_ that it is an angle, and in which from the\nproposition with regard to any term that it is red it _follows_ that\nit is coloured. There is obviously some very important sense in which\nfrom the proposition that a thing is a right angle, it does follow\nthat it is an angle, and from the proposition that a thing is red it\ndoes follow that it is coloured. And what I am maintaining is that the\nmetaphorical sense of \"modify,\" in which it is maintained that all\nrelational properties modify the subjects which possess them, can be\ndefined by reference to this sense of \"follows.\" The definition is: To\nsay of a given relational property P that it modifies or is internal to\na given term A which possesses it, is to say that from the proposition\nthat a thing has not got P it follows that that thing is different\nfrom A. In other words, it is to say that the property of _not_\npossessing P, and the property of being different from A are related\nto one another in the peculiar way in which the property of being a\nright-angled triangle is related to that of being a triangle, or that\nof being red to that of being coloured.\n\nTo complete the definition it is necessary, however, to define the\nsense in which \"different from A\" is to be understood. There are two\ndifferent senses which the statement that A is different from B may\nbear. It may be meant merely that A is _numerically_ different from\nB, _other_ than B, not identical with B. Or it may be meant that not\nonly is this the case, but also that A is related to B in a way which\ncan be roughly expressed by saying that A is _qualitatively_ different\nfrom B. And of these two meanings, those who say \"All relations make\na _difference_ to their terms,\" always, I think, mean difference\nin the latter sense and not merely in the former. That is to say,\nthey mean, that if P be a relational property which belongs to A,\nthen the absence of P entails not only numerical difference from A,\nbut qualitative difference. But, in fact, from the proposition that\na thing is qualitatively different from A, it does follow that it\nis also numerically different. And hence they are maintaining that\nevery relational property is \"internal to\" its terms in both of two\ndifferent senses at the same time. They are maintaining that, if P be a\nrelational property which belongs to A, then P is internal to A both in\nthe sense (1) that the absence of P entails qualitative difference from\nA; and (2) that the absence of P entails numerical difference from A.\nIt seems to me that neither of these propositions is true; and I will\nsay something about each in turn.\n\nAs for the first, I said before that I think some relational properties\nreally are \"internal to\" their terms, though by no means all are.\nBut, if we understand \"internal to\" in this first sense, I am not\nreally sure that any are. In order to get an example of one which\nwas, we should have, I think, to say that any two different qualities\nare always _qualitatively_ different from one another: that, for\ninstance, it is not only the case that anything which is pure red is\nqualitatively different from anything which is pure blue, but that\nthe quality \"pure red\" itself is qualitatively different from the\nquality \"pure blue.\" I am not quite sure that we can say this, but I\nthink we can; and if so, it is easy to get an example of a relational\nproperty which is internal in our first sense. The quality \"orange\" is\nintermediate in shade between the qualities yellow and red. This is a\nrelational property, and it is quite clear that, on our assumption,\nit is an internal one. Since it is quite clear that any quality which\nwere _not_ intermediate between yellow and red, would necessarily\nbe _other_ than orange; and if any quality _other_ than orange must\nbe _qualitatively_ different from orange, then it follows that\n\"intermediate between yellow and red\" is internal to \"orange.\" That is\nto say, the absence of the relational property \"intermediate between\nyellow and red,\" _entails_ the property \"different in quality from\norange.\"\n\nThere is then, I think, a difficulty in being sure that _any_\nrelational properties are internal in this first sense. But, if what we\nwant to do is to show that some are _not,_ and that therefore the dogma\nthat all relations are internal is false, I think the most conclusive\nreason for saying this is that if _all_ were internal in this first\nsense, all would necessarily be internal in the second, and that this\nis plainly false. I think, in fact, the most important consequence of\nthe dogma that all relations are internal, is that it follows from it\nthat all relational properties are internal in this second sense. I\npropose, therefore, at once to consider this proposition, with a view\nto bringing out quite clearly what it means and involves, and what are\nthe main reasons for saying that it is false.\n\nThe proposition in question is that, if P be a relational property\nand A a term to which it does in fact belong, then, no matter what\nP and A may be, it may always be truly asserted of them, that any\nterm which had _not_ possessed P would necessarily have been other\nthan--numerically different from--A: or in other words, that A would\nnecessarily, in all conceivable circumstances, have possessed P.\nAnd with this sense of \"internal,\" as distinguished from that which\nsays _qualitatively different,_ it is quite easy to point out some\nrelational properties which certainly are internal in this sense.\nLet us take as an example the relational property which we assert to\nbelong to a visual sense-datum when we say of it that it has another\nvisual sense-datum as a spatial part: the assertion, for instance,\nwith regard to a coloured patch half of which is red and half yellow.\n\"This whole patch contains this patch\" (where \"this patch\" is a proper\nname for the red half). It is here, I think, quite plain that, in a\nperfectly clear and intelligible sense, we can say that any whole,\nwhich had not contained that red patch, could not have been identical\nwith the whole in question: that from the proposition with regard to\nany term whatever that it does not contain _that_ particular patch it\n_follows_ that that term is _other_ than the whole in question--though\n_not_ necessarily that it is qualitatively different from it. _That_\nparticular whole could not have existed without having that particular\npatch for a part. But it seems no less clear, at first sight, that\nthere are many other relational properties of which this is not true.\nIn order to get an example, we have only to consider the relation which\nthe red patch has to the whole patch, instead of considering as before\nthat which the whole has to it. It seems quite clear that, though the\nwhole could not have existed without having the red patch for a part,\nthe red patch might perfectly well have existed without being part\nof that particular whole. In other words, though every relational\nproperty of the form \"having _this_ for a spatial part\" is \"internal\"\nin our sense, it seems equally clear that every property of the form\n\"is a spatial part of this whole\" is _not_ internal, but purely\nexternal. Yet this last, according to me, is one of the things which\nthe dogma of internal relations denies. It implies that it is just\nas necessary that anything, which is in fact a part of a particular\nwhole, should be a part of that whole, as that any whole, which has\na particular thing for a part, should have that thing for a part. It\nimplies, in fact, quite generally, that any term which does in fact\nhave a particular relational property, could not have existed without\nhaving that property. And in saying this it obviously flies in the\nface of common sense. It seems quite obvious that in the case of many\nrelational properties which things have, the fact that they have them\nis _a mere matter of fact:_ that the things in question _might_ have\nexisted without having them. That this, which seems obvious, is true,\nseems to me to be the most important thing that can be meant by saying\nthat some relations are purely external. And the difficulty is to see\nhow any philosopher could have supposed that it was not true: that, for\ninstance, the relation of part to whole is no more external than that\nof whole to part. I will give at once one main reason which seems to me\nto have led to the view, that _all_ relational properties are internal\nin this sense.\n\nWhat I am maintaining is the common-sense view, which seems obviously\ntrue, that it may be true that A has in fact got P and yet also true\nthat A might have existed without having P. And I say that this\nis equivalent to saying that it may be true that A has P, and yet\n_not_ true that from the proposition that a thing has _not_ got P it\n_follows_ that that thing is _other_ than A--numerically different from\nit. And one reason why this is disputed is, I think, simply because it\nis in fact true that if A has P, and _x_ has _not_, it _does_ follow\nthat _x_ is other than A. These two propositions, the one which I admit\nto be true (1) that if A has P, and _x_ has not, it _does_ follow that\n_x_ is other than A, and the one which I maintain to be false (2) that\nif A has P, then from the proposition with regard to any term _x_\nthat it has not got P, it _follows_ that _x_ is other than A, are, I\nthink, easily confused with one another. And it is in fact the case\nthat if they are not different, or if (2) follows from (1), then no\nrelational properties are external. For (1) is certainly true, and (2)\nis certainly equivalent to asserting that none are. It is therefore\nabsolutely essential, if we are to maintain external relations, to\nmaintain that (2) does _not_ follow from (1). These two propositions\n(1) and (2), with regard to which I maintain that (1) is true, and (2)\nis false, can be put in another way, as follows: (1) asserts that if A\nhas P, then any term which has not, _must_ be other than A. (2) asserts\nthat if A has P, then any term which had not, _would necessarily be_\nother than A. And when they are put in this form, it is, I think, easy\nto see why they should be confused: you have only to confuse \"must\"\nor \"is necessarily\" with \"would necessarily be.\" And their connexion\nwith the question of external relations can be brought out as follows:\nTo maintain external relations you have to maintain such things as\nthat, though Edward VII was in fact father of George V, he _might_\nhave existed without being father of George V. But to maintain this,\nyou have to maintain that it is _not_ true that a person who was _not_\nfather of George would necessarily have been other than Edward. Yet\nit is, in fact, the case, that any person who was not the father of\nGeorge, _must_ have been other than Edward. Unless, therefore, you can\nmaintain that from this true proposition it does _not_ follow that any\nperson who was _not_ father of George _would necessarily_ have been\nother than Edward, you will have to give up the view that Edward might\nhave existed without being father of George.\n\nBy far the most important point in connexion with the dogma of internal\nrelations seems to me to be simply to see clearly the difference\nbetween these two propositions (1) and (2), and that (2) does _not_\nfollow from (1). If this is not understood, nothing in connexion with\nthe dogma, can, I think, be understood. And perhaps the difference may\nseem so clear, that no more need be said about it. But I cannot help\nthinking it is not clear to everybody, and that it does involve the\nrejection of certain views, which are sometimes held as to the meaning\nof \"follows.\" So I will try to put the point again in a perfectly\nstrict form.\n\nLet P be a relational property, and A a term to which it does in fact\nbelong. I propose to define what is meant by saying that P is internal\nto A (in the sense we are now concerned with) as meaning that from the\nproposition that a thing has not got P, it \"follows\" that it is _other_\nthan A.\n\nThat is to say, this proposition asserts that between the two\nproperties \"not having P\" and \"other than A,\" there holds that relation\nwhich holds between the property \"being a right angle\" and the property\n\"being an angle,\" or between the property \"red\" and the property\n\"coloured,\" and which we express by saying that, in the case of any\nthing whatever, from the proposition that that thing is a right angle\nit follows, or is deducible, that it is an angle.\n\nLet us now adopt certain conventions for expressing this proposition.\n\nWe require, first of all, some term to express the _converse_ of that\nrelation which we assert to hold between a particular proposition _q_\nand a particular proposition _p_, when we assert that _q follows from_\nor _is deducible from p._ Let us use the term \"entails\" to express the\nconverse of this relation. We shall then be able to say truly that \"_p_\nentails _q_,\" when and only when we are able to say truly that \"_q_\nfollows from _p_\" or \"is deducible from _p_,\" in the sense in which the\nconclusion of a syllogism in Barbara follows from the two premisses,\ntaken as one conjunctive proposition; or in which the proposition\n\"This is coloured\" follows from \"This is red.\" \"_p_ entails _q_\" will\nbe related to \"_q_ follows from, _p_\" in the same way in which \"A is\ngreater than B\" is related to \"B is less than A.\"\n\nWe require, next, some short and clear method of expressing the\nproposition, with regard to two properties P and Q, that _any_\nproposition which asserts of a given thing that it has the property\nP _entails_ the proposition that the thing in question also has the\nproperty Q. Let us express this proposition in the form\n\n_x_P entails _x_Q\n\nThat is to say \"_x_P entails _x_Q\" is to mean the same as \"Each one of\nall the various propositions, which are alike in respect of the fact\nthat each asserts with regard to some given thing that that thing has\nP, entails _that one_ among the various propositions, alike in respect\nof the fact that each asserts with regard to some given thing that\nthat thing has Q, which makes this assertion with regard to the _same\nthing_, with regard to which the proposition of the first class asserts\nthat it has P.\" In other words \"_x_P entails _x_Q\" is to be true, if\nand only if the proposition \"AP entails AQ\" is true, and if also all\npropositions which resemble this, in the way in which \"BP entails BQ\"\nresembles it, are true also; where \"AP\" means the same as \"A has P,\"\n\"AQ\" the same as \"A has Q\" etc., etc.\n\nWe require, next, some way of expressing the proposition, with regard\nto two properties P and Q, that any proposition which _denies_ of a\ngiven thing that it has P _entails_ the proposition, with regard to the\nthing in question, that it has Q.\n\nLet us, in the case of any proposition, _p_, express the contradictory\nof that proposition by _p_. The proposition \"It is not the case that A\nhas P\" will then be expressed by \u00b0AP\u00b0; and it will then be natural, in\naccordance with the last convention to express the proposition that any\nproposition which _denies_ of a given thing that it has P _entails_ the\nproposition, with regard to the thing in question,\n\nthat it has Q, by\n\n\u00b0_xP_\u00b0 entails _xQ._\n\nAnd we require, finally, some short way of expressing the proposition,\nwith regard to two things B and A, that B is _other_ than (or not\nidentical with) A. Let us express \"B is identical with A\" by \"B = A\";\nand it will then be natural, according to the last convention, to\nexpress \"B is not identical with A\" by\n\n\u00b0B = A.\u00b0\n\nWe have now got everything which is required for expressing, in a short\nsymbolic form, the proposition, with regard to a given thing A and\na given relational property P, which A in fact possesses, that P is\n_internal_ to A. The required expression is\n\n_xP_ entails (\u00b0_x_ = A\u00b0)\n\nwhich is to mean the same as \"Every proposition which asserts of any\ngiven thing that it has not got P _entails_ the proposition, with\nregard to the thing in question, that it is other than A.\" And this\nproposition is, of course, logically equivalent to\n\n(_x_ = A) entails _x_ P\n\nwhere we are using \"logically equivalent,\" in such a sense that to\nsay of any proposition _p_ that it is logically equivalent to another\nproposition _q_ is to say that both _p_ entails _q_ and _q_ entails\n_p._ This last proposition again, is, so far as I can see, either\nidentical with or logically equivalent to the propositions expressed\nby \"anything which were identical with A would, in any conceivable\nuniverse, necessarily have P\" or by \"A could not have existed in any\npossible world without having P\"; just as the proposition expressed by\n\"In any possible world a right angle must be an angle\" is, I take it,\neither identical with or logically equivalent to the proposition \"(_x_\nis a right angle) entails (r is an angle).\"\n\nWe have now, therefore, got a short means of symbolising, with\nregard to any particular thing A and any particular property P, the\nproposition that P is _internal_ to A in the second of the two senses\ndistinguished on p. 286. But we still require a means of symbolising\nthe general proposition that _every_ relational property is internal\nto any term which possesses it--the proposition, namely, which was\nreferred to on p. 287, as the most important consequence of the dogma\nof internal relations, and which was called (2) on p. 289.\n\nIn order to get this, let us first get a means of expressing with\nregard to some one particular relational property P, the proposition\nthat P is internal to _any_ term which possesses it. This is a\nproposition which takes the form of asserting with regard to one\nparticular property, namely P, that any term which possesses that\nproperty also possesses another--namely the one expressed by saying\nthat P is internal to it. It is, that is to say, an ordinary universal\nproposition, like \"All men are mortal.\" But such a form of words is,\nas has often been pointed out, ambiguous. It may stand for either of\ntwo different propositions. It may stand merely for the proposition\n\"There is nothing, which both is a man, and is not mortal\"--a\nproposition which may also be expressed by \"If anything is a man,\nthat thing is mortal,\" and which is distinguished by the fact that\nit makes no assertion as to whether there are any men or not; or it\nmay stand for the conjunctive proposition \"If anything is a man, that\nthing is mortal, _and there are men.\"_ It will be sufficient for our\npurposes to deal with propositions of the first kind--those namely,\nwhich assert with regard to some two properties, say Q and R, that\nthere is nothing which both does possess Q and does not possess R,\nwithout asserting that anything does possess Q. Such a proposition is\nobviously equivalent to the assertion that _any_ pair of propositions\nwhich resembles the pair \"AQ\" and \"AR,\" in respect of the fact that\none of them asserts of some particular thing that it has Q and the\nother, of the same thing, that it has R, stand to one another in a\ncertain relation: the relation, namely, which, in the case of \"AQ\"\nand \"AR,\" can be expressed by saying that \"It is not the case both\nthat A has Q and that A has not got R.\" When we say \"There is nothing\nwhich does possess Q and does not possess R\" we are obviously saying\nsomething which is either identical with or logically equivalent to the\nproposition \"In the case of every such pair of propositions it is not\nthe case both that the one which asserts a particular thing to have\nQ is true, and that the one which asserts it to have R is false.\" We\nrequire, therefore, a short way of expressing the relation between two\npropositions _p_ and _q,_ which can be expressed by \"It is not the case\nthat _p_ is true and _q_ false.\" And I am going, quite arbitrarily to\nexpress this relation by writing\n\n_p_ * _q_\n\nfor \"It is not the case that _p_ is true and _q_ false.\"\n\nThe relation in question is one which logicians have sometimes\nexpressed by \"_p_ implies _q_.\" It is, for instance, the one which\nMr. Russell in the _'Principles of Mathematics_ calls \"material\nimplication,\" and which he and Dr. Whitehead in _Principia Mathematica_\ncall simply \"implication.\" And if we do use \"implication\" to stand for\nthis relation, we, of course, got the apparently paradoxical results\nthat every false proposition implies every other proposition, both\ntrue and false, and that every true proposition implies every other\ntrue proposition: since it is quite clear that if _p_ is false then,\nwhatever _q_ may be, \"it is not the case that _p_ is true and _q_\nfalse,\" and quite clear also, that if _p_ and _q_ are both true, then\nalso \"it is not the case that _p_ is true and _q_ false.\" And these\nresults, it seems to me, appear to be paradoxical, solely because,\nif we use \"implies\" in any ordinary sense, they are quite certainly\nfalse. Why logicians should have thus chosen to use the word \"implies\"\nas a name for a relation, for which it never is used by any one else,\nI do not know. It is partly, no doubt, because the relation for which\nthey do use it--that expressed by saying \"It is not the case that _p_\nis true and _q_ false\"--is one for which it is very important that\nthey should have a short name, because it is a relation which is very\nfundamental and about which they need constantly to talk, while (so far\nas I can discover) it simply has no short name in ordinary life. And\nit is partly, perhaps, for a reason which leads us back to our present\nreason for giving some name to this relation. It is, in fact, natural\nto use \"_p_ implies _q_\" to mean the same as \"If _p,_ then _q.\"_ And\nthough \"If _p_ then _q_\" is hardly ever, if ever, used to mean the\nsame as \"It is not the case that _p_ is true and _q_ false\"; yet the\nexpression \"If _anything_ has Q, _it_ has R\" may, I think, be naturally\nused to express the proposition that, in the case of _every_ pair of\npropositions which resembles the pair A Q and A R in respect of the\nfact that the first of the pair asserts of some particular thing that\nit has Q and the second, of the same thing, that it has R, it is not\nthe case that the first is true and the second false. That is to say,\nif (as I propose to do) we express \"It is not the case both that AQ is\ntrue and AR false\" by\n\nAQ * AR,\n\nand if, further (on the analogy of the similar case with regard\nto \"entails),\" we express the proposition that of _every_ pair of\npropositions which resemble A Q and A R in the respect just mentioned,\nit is true that the first has the relation * to the second by\n\n_x_Q * _x_R\n\nthen, it _is_ natural to express _x_Q * _x_R, by \"If _anything_ has\nQ, then _that thing_ has R.\" And logicians may, I think, have falsely\ninferred that _since_ it is natural to express \"_x_Q * _x_R\" by \"If\n_anything_ has Q, then _that thing_ has R,\" it _must_ be natural to\nexpress \"AQ * AR\" by \"If AQ, then AR,\" and therefore also by \"AQ\nimplies AR.\" If this has been their reason for expressing \"_p * q_\"\nby \"_p_ implies _q_\" then obviously their reason is a fallacy. And,\nwhatever the reason may have been, it seems to me quite certain that\n\"AQ * AR\" cannot be properly expressed either by \"AQ implies AR\" or by\n\"If AQ, then AR,\" although \"_r_Q * _x_R\" can be properly expressed by\n\"If anything has Q, then that thing has R.\"\n\nI am going, then, to express the universal proposition, with regard to\ntwo particular properties Q and R, which asserts that \"Whatever has\nQ, has R\" or \"If anything has Q, it has R,\" without asserting that\nanything has Q, by\n\n_x_Q * _x_R\n\n--a means of expressing it, which since we have adopted the convention\nthat \"_p_ * _q_\" is to mean the same as \"It is not the case that\n_p_ is true and _q_ false,\" brings out the important fact that this\nproposition is either identical with or logically equivalent to the\nproposition that of _every_ such pair of propositions as AQ and AR,\nit is true that it is not the case that the first is true and the\nsecond false. And having adopted this convention, we can now see how,\nin accordance with it, the proposition, with regard to a particular\nproperty P, that P is _internal_ to _everything_ which possesses it, is\nto be expressed. We saw that P is _internal_ to A is to be expressed by\n\n\u00b0_xP_\u00b0 entails (\u00b0_x_ = A\u00b0)\n\nor by the logically equivalent proposition\n\n(_x =_ A) entails _xP_\n\nAnd we have now only to express the proposition that _anything_ that\nhas P, has also the property that P is _internal_ to it. The required\nexpression is obviously as follows. Just as \"Anything that has Q, has\nR\" is to be expressed by\n\n_x_Q * _x_R\n\nso \"Anything that has P, has also the property that P is internal to\nit\" will be expressed by\n\n_x_P * {\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 entails (\u00b0_y  x_\u00b0)}\n\nor by\n\n_x_P * {(_v  x_) entails _y_P}.\n\nWe have thus got, in the case of any particular property P, a means\nof expressing the proposition that it is _internal_ to _every_ term\nthat possesses it, which is both short and brings out clearly the\nnotions that are involved in it. And we do not need, I think, any\nfurther special convention for symbolising the proposition that _every_\nrelational property is internal to any term which possesses it--the\nproposition, namely, which I called (2) above (pp. 289, 290), and which\non p. 287, I called the most important consequence of the dogma of\ninternal relations. We can express it simply enough as follows:--\n\n(2) = \"What we assert of P when we say _xP_ * {\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 entails (\u00b0_y =\nx_\u00b0)} can be truly asserted of every relational property.\"\n\nAnd now, for the purpose of comparing (2) with (1), and seeing exactly\nwhat is involved in my assertion that (2) does not follow from (1), let\nus try to express (1) by means of the same conventions.\n\nLet us first take the assertion with regard to a particular thing A\nand a particular relational property P that, from the proposition that\nA has P it _follows_ that nothing which has not got P is identical\nwith A. This is an assertion which is quite certainly true; since, if\nanything which had not got P were identical with A, it would follow\nthat \u00b0AP\u00b0; and from the proposition AP, it certainly _follows_ that\n\u00b0AP\u00b0 is false, and therefore also that \"Something which has not got P\nis identical with A\" is false, or that \"Nothing which has not got P is\nidentical with A\" is true. And this assertion, in accordance with the\nconventions we have adopted, will be expressed\n\nby\n\nAP entails {\u00b0_x_P\u00b0 * (\u00b0_x_ = A\u00b0)}\n\nWe want, next, in order to express (1), a means of expressing with\nregard to a particular relational property P, the assertion that, from\nthe proposition, with regard to _anything_ whatever, that that thing\nhas got P, it _follows_ that nothing which has not got P is identical\nwith the thing in question. This also is an assertion which is quite\ncertainly true; since it merely asserts (what is obviously true) that\nwhat\n\nAP entails {\u00b0_x_P\u00b0 * (\u00b0_x_ = A\u00b0)}\n\nasserts of A, can be truly asserted of anything whatever. And this\nassertion, in accordance with the conventions we have adopted, will be\nexpressed by\n\n_x_P entails {\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 * (\u00b0_y_ = x\u00b0)}.\n\nThe proposition, which I meant to call (1), but which I expressed\nbefore rather clumsily, can now be expressed by\n\n(1) = \"What we assert of P, when we say,\n\n_x_P entails {\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 * (\u00b0y = _x_\u00b0)}\n\ncan be truly asserted of every relational property.\" This is a\nproposition which is again quite certainly true; and, in order to\ncompare it with (2), there is, I think, no need to adopt any further\nconvention for expressing it, since the questions whether it is or is\nnot different from (2), and whether (2) does or does not follow from\nit, will obviously depend on the same questions with regard to the two\npropositions, with regard to the particular relational property, P,\n\n_x_P entails {\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 * (\u00b0_y = x_\u00b0)}\n\nand\n\n_x_P * {_y_P entails (_y = x_)}\n\nNow what I maintain with regard to (1) and (2) is that, whereas (1) is\ntrue, (2) is false. I maintain, that is to say, that the proposition\n\"What we assert of P, when we say\n\n_x_P * {\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 entails (\u00b0_y = x_\u00b0)}.\n\nis true of _every_ relational property\" is false, though I admit that\nwhat we here assert of P is true of _some_ relational properties.\nThose of which it is true, I propose to call _internal_ relational\nproperties, those of which it is false _external_ relational\nproperties. The dogma of internal relations, on the other hand, implies\nthat (2) is true; that is to say, that _every_ relational property is\n_internal_ and that there are no _external_ relational properties. And\nwhat I suggest is that the dogma of internal relations has been held\nonly because (2) has been falsely thought to follow from (1).\n\nAnd that (2) does not follow from (1), can, I think, be easily seen as\nfollows. It can follow from (1) only if from any proposition of the form\n\n_p_ entails (_q_ * _r_)\n\nthere follows the corresponding proposition of the form\n\n_p_ * (_q_ entails _r_),\n\nAnd that this is not the case can, I think, be easily seen by\nconsidering the following three propositions. Let _p_ = \"All the books\non this shelf are blue,\" let _q_ = \"My copy of the _Principles of\nMathematics_ is a book on this shelf,\" and let _r_ = \"My copy of the\n_Principles of Mathematics_ is blue.\" Now _p_ here does absolutely\n_entail_ (_q * r_). That is to say, it absolutely follows from _p_\nthat \"My copy of the _Principles_ is on this shelf,\" and \"My copy of\nthe _Principles_ is _not_ blue,\" are not, as a matter of fact, both\ntrue. But it by no means follows from this that _p_ * (_q_ entails\n_r_). For what this latter proposition means is \"It is not the case\nboth that _p_ is true and that (_q_ entails _r_) is false.\" And, as a\nmatter of fact, (_q_ entails _r_) is quite certainly false; for from\nthe proposition \"My copy of the _Principles_ is on this shelf\" the\nproposition \"My copy of the _Principles_ is blue\" does _not_ follow. It\nis simply not the case that the second of these two propositions can be\ndeduced from the first _by itself:_ it is simply not the case that it\nstands to it in the relation in which it does stand to the conjunctive\nproposition \"All the books on this shelf are blue _and,_ my copy of the\n_Principles_ is on this shelf.\" This conjunctive proposition really\ndoes _entail_ \"My copy of the _Principles_ is blue.\" But \"My copy of\nthe _Principles_ is on this shelf,\" _by itself_ quite certainly does\nnot entail \"My copy of the Principles is blue.\" It is simply not the\ncase that my copy of the Principles _couldn't_ have been on this shelf\nwithout being blue, (_q_ entails _r_) is, therefore, false. And hence\n\"_p_ * (_q_ entails _r_),\" can only follow from \"_p_ entails (_q_ *\n_r_),\" if from this latter proposition \u00b0_p_\u00b0 follows. But _p_ quite\ncertainly does not follow from this proposition: from the fact that (_q\n* r_) is deducible from _p_, it does not in the least follow that \u00b0_p_\u00b0\nis true. It is, therefore, clearly not the case that every proposition\nof the form\n\n_p_ entails (_q * r_)\n\nentails the corresponding proposition of the form\n\n_p_ * {_q_ entails _r_},\n\nsince we have found one particular proposition of the first form which\ndoes _not_ entail the corresponding proposition of the second.\n\nTo maintain, therefore, that (2) follows from (1) is mere confusion.\nAnd one source of the confusion is, I think, pretty plain. (1) does\nallow you to assert that, if AP is true, then the proposition \"\u00b0_y_P\u00b0\n* {\u00b0(_y_ = A\u00b0)}\" _must_ be true. What the \"must\" here expresses is\nmerely that this proposition follows from AP, not that it is in itself\na necessary proposition. But it is supposed, through confusion, that\nwhat is asserted is that it is not the case both that AP is true\nand that \"\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 * (\u00b0_y_ = A\u00b0)\" is not, _in itself,_ a necessary\nproposition; that is to say, it is supposed that what is asserted is\n\"AP + {\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 entails (\u00b0_y_ = A\u00b0)}\"; since to say that \"\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 * (\u00b0_y_\n= A\u00b0)\" is, _in itself_, a necessary proposition is the same thing as to\nsay that \"\u00b0_y_P\u00b0 entails (\u00b0_y_ = A\u00b0)\" is also true. In fact it seems\nto me pretty plain that what is meant by saying of propositions of\nthe form \"_x_P * _x_Q\" that they are _necessary_ (or \"apodeictic\")\npropositions, is merely that the corresponding proposition of the\nform \"_x_P entails _x_Q\" is also true, \"_x_P _entails_ _x_Q\" is not\n_itself_ a necessary proposition; but, if \"_x_P entails _x_Q\" is\n_true,_ then \"_x_P * _x_Q\" is a necessary proposition--and a necessary\ntruth, since no false propositions are necessary in themselves. Thus\nwhat is meant by saying that \"Whatever is a right angle, is also an\nangle\" is a necessary truth, is, so far as I can see, simply that the\nproposition \"(_x_ is a right angle) entails (_x_ is an angle)\" is\nalso true. This seems to me to give what has, in fact, been generally\nmeant in philosophy by \"necessary truths,\" _e.g._ by Leibniz; and\nto point out the distinction between them and those true universal\npropositions which are \"mere matters of fact.\" And if we want to extend\nthe meaning of the name \"necessary truth\" in such a way that some\nsingular propositions may also be said to be \"necessary truths,\" we\ncan, I think, easily do it as follows. We can say that AP is itself\na necessary truth, if and only if the universal proposition \"(_x_ =\nA) * _x_P\" (which, as we have seen, follows from AP) is a necessary\ntruth: that is to say, if and only if (_x_ = A) entails _x_P. With\nthis definition, what the dogma of internal relations asserts is that\nin every case in which a given thing actually has a given relational\nproperty, the fact that it has that property is a necessary truth;\nwhereas what I am asserting is that, if the property in question is\nan \"internal\" property, then the fact in question will be a necessary\ntruth, whereas if the property in question is \"external,\" then the fact\nin question will be a mere \"matter of fact.\"\n\nSo much for the distinction between (1) which is true, and (2), or\nthe dogma of internal relations, which I hold to be false. But I said\nabove, in passing, that my contention that (2) does not follow from\n(1), involves the rejection of certain views that have sometimes been\nheld as to the meaning of \"follows\"; and I think it is worth while to\nsay something about this.\n\nIt is obvious that the possibility of maintaining that (2) does not\nfollow from (1), depends upon its being true that from \"_x_P * _x_Q\"\nthe proposition \"_x_P entails _x_Q\" does not follow. And this has\nsometimes been disputed, and is, I think, often not clearly seen.\n\nTo begin with, Mr. Russell, in the _Principles of Mathematics_ (p. 34),\ntreats the phrase \"_q_ can be deduced from _p_\" as if it meant exactly\nthe same thing as \"_p * q_\" or \"_p_ materially implies _q_\"; and has\nrepeated the same error elsewhere, _e.g._ in _Philosophical Essays_\n(p. 166), where he is discussing what _he_ calls the axiom of internal\nrelations. And I am afraid a good many people have been led to suppose\nthat, since Mr. Russell has said this, it must be true. If it were\ntrue, then, of course, it would be impossible to distinguish between\n(1) and (2), and it would follow that, since (1) certainly is true,\nwhat I am calling the dogma of internal relations is true too. But I\nimagine that Mr. Russell himself would now be willing to admit that, so\nfar from being true, the statement that \"_q_ can be deduced from _p_\"\nmeans the same as \"_p_ * _q_\" is simply an enormous \"howler\"; and I do\nnot think I need spend any time in trying to show that it is so.\n\nBut it may be held that, though \"_p_ entails _q_\" does not mean the\nsame as \"_p * q_,\" yet nevertheless from \"_x_P * _x_Q\" the proposition\n\"_x_P entails _x_Q\" does follow, for a somewhat more subtle reason;\nand, if this were so, it would again follow that what I am calling the\ndogma of internal relations must be true. It may be held, namely, that\nthough \"AP entails AQ\" does not mean simply \"AP * AQ\" yet what it does\nmean is simply the conjunction \"AP * AQ _and_ this proposition is an\ninstance of a true formal implication\" (the phrase \"formal implication\"\nbeing understood in Mr. Russell's sense, in which \"_x_P * _x_Q\" asserts\na formal implication). This view as to what \"AP entails AQ\" means,\nhas, for instance, if I understand him rightly, been asserted by Mr.\nO. Strachey in _Mind,_ N.S., 93. And the same view has been frequently\nsuggested (though I do not know that he has actually asserted it) by\nMr. Russell himself (_e.g., Principia Mathematica,_ p. 21). If this\nview were true, then, though \"_x_P entails _x_Q\" would not be identical\nin meaning with \"_x_P * _x_Q,\" yet it would follow from it; since, if\n\n_x_P * _x_Q\n\nwere true, then every particular assertion of the form AP * AQ, would\nnot only be true, but would be an instance of a true formal implication\n(namely \"_x_P * _x_Q\") and this, according to the proposed definition,\nis all that \"_x_P entails _x_Q\" asserts. If, therefore, it were true,\nit would again follow that all relational properties must be internal.\nBut that this view also is untrue appears to me perfectly obvious. The\nproposition that I am in this room does \"materially imply\" that I am\nmore than five years old, since both are true; and the assertion that\nit does is also an instance of a true formal implication, since it is\nin fact true that all the persons in this room are more than five years\nold; but nothing appears to me more obvious than that the second of\nthese two propositions can _not_ be deduced from the first--that the\nkind of relation which holds between the premisses and conclusion of\na syllogism in _Barbara_ does _not_ hold between them. To put it in\nanother way: it seems to me quite obvious that the properties \"being\na person in this room\" and \"being more than five years old\" are not\nrelated in the kind of way in which \"being a right angle\" _is_ related\nto \"being an angle,\" and which we express by saying that, in the case\nof every term, the proposition that that term is an angle can be\ndeduced from the proposition that it is a right angle.\n\nThese are the only two suggestions as to the meaning of \"_p_ entails\n_q_\" known to me, which, if true, would yield the result that (2)\ndoes follow from (1), and that therefore all relational properties\nare internal; and both of these, it seems to me, are obviously\nfalse. All other suggested meanings, so far as I know, would leave\nit true that (2) does not follow from (1), and therefore that I may\npossibly be right in maintaining that some relational properties are\nexternal. It might, for instance, be suggested that the last proposed\ndefinition should be amended as follows--that we should say: \"_p_\nentails _q_\" means \"_p * q and_ this proposition is an instance of a\nformal implication, which is not merely true but _self-evident,_ like\nthe laws of Formal Logic.\" This proposed definition would avoid the\nparadoxes involved in Mr. Strachey's definition, since such true formal\nimplications as \"all the persons in this room are more than five years\nold\" are certainly not self-evident; and, so far as I. can see, it may\nstate something which is in fact true of _p_ and _q,_ whenever and only\nwhen _p_ entails _q._ I do not myself think that it gives the _meaning_\nof \"_p_ entails _q,_\" since the kind of relation which I see to hold\nbetween the premisses and conclusion of a syllogism seems to me to be\none which is purely \"objective\" in the sense that no psychological\nterm, such as is involved in the meaning of \"self-evident,\" is involved\nin its definition (if it has one). I am not, however, concerned to\ndispute that some such definition of \"_p_ entails _q_\" as this may be\ntrue. Since it is evident that, even if it were, my proposition that\n\"_x_P entails _x_Q\" does _not_ follow from \"_x_P * _x_Q,\" would still\nbe true; and hence also my contention that (2) does not follow from (1).\n\nSo much by way of arguing that we are not bound to hold that all\nrelational properties are internal in the particular sense, with which\nwe are now concerned, in which to say that they are means that in every\ncase in which a thing A has a relational property, it follows from the\nproposition that a term has _not_ got that property that the term in\nquestion is _other_ than A. But I have gone further and asserted that\nsome relational properties certainly are _not_ internal. And in defence\nof this proposition I do not know that I have anything to say but that\nit seems to me evident in many cases that a term which _has_ a certain\nrelational property _might_ quite well not have had it: that, for\ninstance, from the mere proposition that this is this, it by no means\nfollows that this has to other things all the relations which it in\nfact has. Everybody, of course, must admit that if all the propositions\nwhich assert of it that it has these properties, do in fact follow from\nthe proposition that this is this, we cannot see that they do. And so\nfar as I can see, there is no reason of any kind for asserting that\nthey do, except the confusion which I have exposed. But it seems to me\nfurther that we can see in many cases that the proposition that this\nhas that relation does _not_ follow from the fact that it is this:\nthat, for instance, the proposition that Edward VII was father of\nGeorge V _is_ a _mere_ matter of fact.\n\nI want now to return for a moment to that other meaning of \"internal,\"\n(p. 286) in which to say that P is internal to A means not merely that\nanything which had not P would necessarily be _other_ than A, but that\nit would necessarily be _qualitatively_ different. I said that this\nwas the meaning of \"internal\" in which the dogma of internal relations\nholds that all relational properties are \"internal\"; and that one of\nthe most important consequences which followed from it, was that all\nrelational properties are \"internal\" in the less extreme sense that\nwe have just been considering. But, if I am not mistaken, there is\nanother important consequence which also follows from it, namely, the\nIdentity of Indiscernibles. For if it be true, in the case of every\nrelational property, that any term which had net that property would\nnecessarily be qualitatively different from any which had, it follows\nof course that, in the case of two terms one of which has a relational\nproperty, which the other has not the two are qualitatively different.\nBut, from the proposition that _x_ is other than _y,_ it _does_ follow\nthat _x_ has some relational property which _y_ has not; and hence,\nif the dogma of internal relations be true, it will follow that if\n_x_ is other than _y, x_ is always also qualitatively different from\n_y,_ which is the principle of Identity of Indiscernibles. This is, of\ncourse, a further objection to the dogma of internal relations, since I\nthink it is obvious that the principle of Identity of Indiscernibles is\nnot true. Indeed, so far as I can see, the dogma of internal relations\nessentially consists in the joint assertion of two indefensible\npropositions: (1) the proposition that in the case of no relational\nproperty is it true of any term which has got that property, that it\n_might_ not have had it and (2) the Identity of Indiscernibles.\n\nI want, finally, to say something about the phrase which Mr. Russell\nuses in the _Philosophical Essays_ to express the dogma of internal\nrelations. He says it may be expressed in the form \"Every relation is\ngrounded in the natures of the related terms\" (p. 160). And it can be\neasily seen, if the account which I have given be true, in what precise\nsense it does hold this. Mr. Russell is uncertain as to whether by \"the\nnature\" of a term is to be understood the term itself or something\nelse. For my part it seems to me that by a term's nature is meant, not\nthe term itself, but what may roughly be called all its qualities as\ndistinguished from its relational properties. But whichever meaning\nwe take, it will follow from what I have said, that the dogma of\ninternal relations does imply that every relational property which a\nterm has is, in a perfectly precise sense, _grounded_ in its nature.\nIt will follow that every such property is _grounded_ in _the term,_\nin the sense that, in the case of every such property, it _follows_\nfrom the mere proposition that that term is that term that it has the\nproperty in question. And it will also follow that any such property\nis grounded in the qualities which the term has, in the sense, that if\nyou take _all_ the qualities which the term has, it will again follow\nin the case of each relational property, from the proposition that the\nterm has _all_ those qualities that it has the relational property in\nquestion; since this is implied by the proposition that in the case of\nany such property, any term which had not had it would necessarily have\nbeen different in quality from the term in question. In both of these\ntwo senses, then, the dogma of internal relations does, I think, imply\nthat every relational property is grounded in the nature of every term\nwhich possesses it; and in this sense that proposition is false. Yet\nit is worth noting, I think, that there is another sense of \"grounded\"\nin which it may quite well be true that every relational property _is_\ngrounded in the nature of any term which possesses it. Namely that, in\nthe case of every such property, the term in question has some quality\n_without_ which it could not have had the property. In other words that\nthe relational property _entails_ some quality in the term, though no\nquality in the term _entails_ the relational property.\n\n\n\n\nTHE NATURE OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY\n\n\nI should like, if I can, to interest you to-night in one particular\nquestion about Moral Philosophy. It is a question which resembles most\nphilosophical questions, in respect of the fact that philosophers are\nby no means agreed as to what is the right answer to it: some seem to\nbe very strongly convinced that one answer is correct, while others are\nequally strongly convinced of the opposite. For my own part I do feel\nsome doubt as to which answer is the right one, although, as you will\nsee, I incline rather strongly to one of the two alternatives. I should\nlike very much, if I could, to find some considerations which seemed to\nme absolutely convincing on the one side or the other; for the question\nseems to me in itself to be an exceedingly interesting one.\n\nI have said that the question is a question _about_ Moral Philosophy;\nand it seems to me in fact to be a very large and general question\nwhich affects the whole of Moral Philosophy. In asking it, we are doing\nno less than asking what it is that people are doing when they study\nMoral Philosophy at all: we are asking what sort of questions it is\nwhich it is the business of Moral Philosophy to discuss and try to\nfind the right answer to. But I intend, for the sake of simplicity,\nto confine myself to asking it in two particular instances. Moral\nPhilosophy has, in fact, to discuss a good many different ideas;\nand though I think this same question may be raised with regard to\nthem all, I intend to pick out two, which seem to me particularly\nfundamental, and to ask it with regard to them only.\n\nMy first business must be to explain what these two ideas are.\n\nThe name Moral Philosophy naturally suggests that what is meant is a\ndepartment of philosophy which has something to do with morality. And\nwe all understand roughly what is meant by morality. We are accustomed\nto the distinction between moral good and evil, on the one hand, and\nwhat is sometimes called physical good and evil on the other. We all\nmake the distinction between a man's moral character, on the one hand,\nand his agreeableness or intellectual endowments, on the other. We feel\nthat to accuse a man of immoral conduct is quite a different thing from\naccusing him merely of bad taste or bad manners, or from accusing him\nmerely of stupidity or ignorance. And no less clearly we distinguish\nbetween the idea of being under a moral obligation to do a thing, and\nthe idea of being merely under a legal obligation to do it. It is a\ncommonplace that the sphere of morality is much wider than the sphere\nof law: that we are morally bound to do and avoid many things, which\nare not enjoined or forbidden by the laws of our country; and it is\nalso sometimes held that, if a particular law is unjust or immoral, it\nmay even be a moral duty to disobey it--that is to say that there may\nbe a positive conflict between moral and legal obligation; and the mere\nfact that this is held, whether truly or falsely, shows, at all events,\nthat the one idea is quite distinct from the other.\n\nThe name Moral Philosophy, then, naturally suggests that it is a\ndepartment of philosophy concerned with morality in this common sense.\nAnd it is, in fact, true that one large department of Moral Philosophy\nis so concerned. But it would be a mistake to think that the whole\nsubject is _only_ concerned with morality. Another important department\nof it is, as I shall try to show, concerned with ideas which are _not_\nmoral ideas, in this ordinary sense, though, no doubt, they may have\nsomething to do with them. And of the two ideas which I propose to\npick out for discussion, while one of them is a moral idea, the other\nbelongs to that department of Moral Philosophy, which is not concerned\nsolely with morality, and is not, I think, properly speaking, a moral\nidea at all.\n\nLet us begin with the one of the two, which is a moral idea.\n\nThe particular moral idea which I propose to pick out for discussion\nis the one which I have called above the idea of moral obligation--the\nidea of being morally bound to act in a particular way on a particular\noccasion. But what is, so far as I can see, precisely the same idea\nis also called by several other names. To say that I am under a moral\nobligation to do a certain thing is, I think, clearly to say the same\nthing as what we commonly express by saying that I ought to do it,\nor that it is my duty to do it. That is to say, the idea of moral\nobligation is identical with the idea of the moral \"ought\" and with the\nidea of duty. And it also seems at first sight as if we might make yet\nanother identification.\n\nThe assertion that I ought to do a certain thing seems as if it meant\nmuch the same as the assertion that it would be wrong of me _not_ to do\nthe thing in question: at all events it is quite clear that, whenever\nit is my duty to do anything, it would be wrong of me not to do it,\nand that whenever it would be wrong of me to do anything, then it is\nmy duty to refrain from doing it. In the case of these two ideas, the\nidea of what is wrong, and the idea of what is my duty or what I ought\nto do, different views may be taken as to whether the one is more\nfundamental than the other, or whether both are equally so; and on\nthe question: _If_ one of the two is more fundamental than the other,\nwhich of the two is so? Thus some people would say, that the idea of\n\"wrong\" is the more fundamental, and that the idea of \"duty\" is to be\ndefined in terms of it: that, in fact, the statement \"It is my duty to\nkeep that promise\" merely means \"It would be wrong of me not to keep\nit\"; and the statement \"It is my duty not to tell a lie\" merely means\n\"It would be wrong of me to tell one.\" Others again would apparently\nsay just the opposite: that duty is the more fundamental notion, and\n\"wrong\" is to be defined in terms of it. While others perhaps would\nhold that neither is more fundamental than the other; that both are\nequally fundamental, and that the statement \"it would be wrong to do so\nand so\" is only equivalent to, not identical in meaning with, \"I ought\nnot to do it.\" But whichever of these three views be the true one,\nthere is, I think, no doubt whatever about the equivalence notion of\nthe two ideas; and no doubt, therefore, that whatever answer be given\nto the question I am going to raise about the one, the same answer must\nbe given to the corresponding question about the other.\n\nThe moral idea, then, which I propose to discuss, is the idea of duty\nor moral obligation, or, what comes to the same thing, the idea of what\nis wrong--morally wrong. Everybody would agree that this idea--or, to\nspeak more accurately, one or both of these two ideas--is among the\nmost fundamental of our moral ideas, whether or not they would admit\nthat all others, for example the ideas of moral goodness, involve a\nreference to this one in their definition, or would hold that we have\nsome others which are independent of it, and equally fundamental with\nit.\n\nBut there is a good deal of difficulty in getting clear as to what this\nidea of moral obligation itself is. Is there in fact only one idea\nwhich we call by this name? Or is it possible that on some occasions\nwhen we say that so and so is a duty, we mean something different by\nthis expression from what we do on others? And that similarly when\nwe say that so and so is morally wrong, we sometimes use this name\n\"morally wrong\" for one idea and sometimes for another; so that one\nand the same thing may be \"morally wrong\" in one sense of the word,\nand yet _not_ morally wrong in another? I think, in fact, there are\ntwo different senses in which we use these terms; and to point out the\ndifference between them, will help to bring out clearly more the nature\nof each. And I think perhaps the difference can be brought out most\nclearly by considering the sort of moral rules with which we are all of\nus familiar.\n\nEverybody knows that moral teachers are largely concerned in laying\ndown moral rules, and in disputing the truth of rules which have been\npreviously accepted. And moral rules seem to consist, to a very large\nextent, in assertions to the effect that it is always wrong to do\ncertain actions or to refrain from doing certain others; or (what comes\nto the same thing) that it is always your duty to refrain from certain\nactions, and positively to do certain others. The Ten Commandments for\nexample, are instances of moral rules; and most of them are examples\nof what are called negative rules--that is to say rules which assert\nmerely that it is wrong to do certain positive actions, and therefore\nour duty to refrain from these actions; instead of rules which assert\nof certain positive actions, that it is our duty to do them and\ntherefore wrong to refrain from doing them. The fifth commandment,\nwhich tells us to honour our father and mother, is apparently an\nexception; it seems to be a positive rule. It is not, like the others,\nexpressed in the negative form \"Thou shalt _not_ do so and so,\" and\nit is apparently really meant to assert that we ought to do certain\npositive actions, not merely that there are some positive action from\nwhich we ought to refrain. The difference between this one and the\nrest will thus serve as an example of the difference between positive\nand negative moral rules, a difference which is sometimes treated as\nif it were of great importance. And I do not wish to deny that there\nmay be some important difference between seeing only that certain\npositive actions are wrong, and seeing also that, in certain cases, to\nrefrain from doing certain actions is just as wrong as positively to\ndo certain others. But this distinction between positive and negative\nrules is certainly of much less importance than another which is, I\nthink, liable to be confused with it. So far as this distinction goes\nit is only a distinction between an assertion that it is wrong to do a\npositive action and an assertion that it is wrong to refrain from doing\none: and each of these assertions is equivalent to one which asserts\na duty--the first with an assertion that it is a duty to refrain, the\nsecond with an assertion that a positive action is a duty. But there is\nanother distinction between some moral rules and others, which is of\nmuch greater importance than this one, and which does, I think, give a\nreason for thinking that the term \"moral obligation\" is actually used\nin different senses on different occasions.\n\nI have said that moral rules seem to consist, _to a large extent_,\nin assertions to the effect that it is always wrong to do certain\n_actions_ or to refrain from doing certain others, or the equivalent\nassertions in terms of duty. But there is a large class of moral\nrules, with which we are all of us very familiar, which do not come\nunder this definition. They are rules which are concerned not with our\n_actions_, in the natural sense of the word, but with our feelings,\nthoughts and desires. An illustration of this kind of rule can again\nbe given from the Ten Commandments. Most of the ten, as we all know,\nare concerned merely with actions; but the tenth at least is clearly\nan exception. The tenth says \"Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's\nhouse, nor his wife, nor his servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor\nanything that is his,\" and, unless \"covet\" is merely a mistranslation\nof a word which stands for some kind of action, we plainly have here a\nrule which is concerned with our _feelings_ and not with our actions.\nAnd one reason which makes the distinction between rules of this kind\nand rules concerned with actions important, is that our feelings are\nnot, as a rule, directly within the control of our will in the sense in\nwhich many of our actions are. I cannot, for instance, by any single\nact of will directly prevent from arising in my mind a desire for\nsomething that belongs to some one else, even if, when once the desire\nhas arrived, I can by my will prevent its continuance; and even this\nlast I can hardly do _directly_ but only by forcing myself to attend\nto other considerations which may extinguish the desire. But though\nI thus cannot prevent myself altogether from coveting my neighbour's\npossessions, I can altogether prevent myself from stealing them. The\naction of stealing, and the feeling of covetousness, are clearly on a\nvery different level in this respect. The action is _directly_ within\nthe control of my will, whereas the feeling is not. _If_ I will not\nto take the thing (though of course some people may find a great\ndifficulty in willing this) it does in general follow directly that I\ndo not take it; whereas, it I will not to desire it, it emphatically\ndoes not, even in general, follow directly that no desire for it will\nbe there. This distinction between the way in which our feelings and\nour actions are under the control of our wills is, I think, a very\nreal one indeed; we cannot help constantly recognising that it exists.\nAnd it has an important bearing on the distinction between those moral\nrules which deal with actions and those which deal with feelings, for\nthe following reason. The philosopher Kant laid down a well-known\nproposition to the effect that \"ought\" implies \"can\": that is to say,\nthat it cannot be true that you \"ought\" to do a thing, unless it is\ntrue that you _could_ do it, _if_ you chose. And as regards one of\nthe senses in which we commonly use the words \"ought\" and \"duty,\" I\nthink this rule is plainly true. When we say absolutely of ourselves\nor others, \"I ought to do so and so\" or \"you ought to,\" we imply,\nI think, very often that the thing in question is a thing which we\n_could_ do, _if_ we chose; though of course it may often be a thing\nwhich it is very difficult to choose to do. Thus it is clear that I\ncannot truly say of anyone that he ought to do a certain thing, if it\nis a thing which it is physically impossible for him to do, however\ndesirable it may be that the thing should be done. And in this sense it\nis clear that it cannot be truly said of me that I ought not to have a\ncertain feeling, or that I ought not to have had it, if it is a feeling\nwhich I could not, by any effort of my will, prevent myself from\nhaving. The having or the prevention of a certain feeling is not, of\ncourse, strictly ever a _physical_ impossibility, but it is very often\nimpossible, in exactly the same sense, in which actions are physically\nimpossible--that is to say that I could not possibly get it or prevent\nit, even if I would. But this being so, it is plain that such a\nmoral rule as that I ought not to covet my neighbour's possessions\nis, if it means to assert that I ought not, in that sense in which\n\"ought\" implies \"can,\" a rule which cannot possibly be true. What it\nappears to assert is, absolutely universally, of _every_ feeling of\ncovetousness, that the feeling in question is one which the person who\nfelt it _ought_ not to have felt. But in fact a very large proportion\nof such feelings (I am inclined to say the vast majority) are feelings\nwhich the person who felt them could not have prevented feeling, if he\nwould: they were beyond the control of his will. And hence it is quite\nemphatically _not_ true that none of these feelings _ought_ to have\nbeen felt, if we are using \"ought\" in the sense which implies that the\nperson who felt them _could_ have avoided them. So far from its being\ntrue that absolutely _none_ of them ought to have been felt, this is\nonly true of those among them, probably a small minority, which the\nperson who felt them _could_ have avoided feeling. If, therefore, moral\nrules with regard to feelings are to have a chance of being _nearly_\ntrue, we must understand the \"ought\" which occurs in them in some\nother sense. But with moral rules that refer to actions the case is\nvery different. Take stealing for example. Here again what the Eighth\nCommandment appears to imply is that absolutely every theft which has\never occurred was an act which the agent ought not to have done; and,\nif the \"ought\" is the one which implies \"can,\" it implies, therefore,\nthat every theft was an act which the agent, if he had chosen, could\nhave avoided. And this statement that every theft which has been\ncommitted was an act which the thief, _if_ he had so willed, could\nhave avoided, though it may be doubted if it is absolutely universally\ntrue, is not a statement which is clearly absurd, like the statement\nthat every covetous desire could have been avoided by the will of the\nperson who felt it. It is probable that the vast majority of acts of\ntheft have been acts which it was in the power of the thief to avoid,\nif he had willed to do so; whereas this is clearly not true of the vast\nmajority of covetous desires. It is, therefore, quite possible that\nthose who believe we ought never to steal are using \"ought\" in a sense\nwhich implies that stealing always _could_ have been avoided; whereas\nit is I think quite certain that many of those who believe that we\nought to avoid all covetous desires, do not believe for a moment that\nevery covetous desire that has ever been felt was a desire which the\nperson who felt it could have avoided feeling, if he had chosen. And\nyet they certainly do believe, in some sense or other, that no covetous\ndesire _ought_ ever to have been felt. The conclusion is, therefore,\nit seems to me, unavoidable that we do use \"ought,\" the moral \"ought,\"\nin two different senses; the one a sense in which to say that I ought\nto have done so and so does really imply that I could have done it,\nif I had chosen, and the other a sense in which it carries with it no\nsuch implication. I think perhaps the difference between the two can be\nexpressed in this way. If we express the meaning of the first \"ought,\"\nthe one which does imply \"can,\" by saying that \"I ought to have done\nso and so\" means \"It actually _was_ my duty to do it\"; we can express\nthe meaning of the second by saying that _e.g._ \"I ought not to have\nfelt so and so\" means _not_ \"it _was_ my duty to avoid that feeling,\"\nbut \"it _would_ have been my duty to avoid it, _if_ I had been able.\"\nAnd corresponding to these two meanings of \"ought\" we should, I think,\nprobably distinguish two different sorts of moral rules, which though\nexpressed in the same language, do in fact mean very different things.\nThe one is a set of rules which assert (whether truly or falsely)\nthat it always actually _is_ a duty to do or to refrain from certain\nactions, and assert therefore that it always is in the power of the\nagent's will to do or to refrain from them; whereas the other sort only\nassert that so and so _would_ be a duty, if it _were_ within our power,\nwithout at all asserting that it always is within our power.\n\nWe may, perhaps, give a name to the distinction I mean, by calling the\nfirst kind of rules--those which do assert that something actually is\na duty--\"rules of duty,\" and by calling the second kind--those which\nrecommend or condemn something not in the control of our wills--\"ideal\nrules\": choosing this latter name because they can be said to inculcate\na moral \"ideal\"--something the attainment of which is not directly\nwithin the power of our wills. As a further example of the difference\nbetween ideal rules and rules of duty we may take the famous passage\nfrom the New Testament (Luke 6, 27) \"Love your enemies, do good to\nthem that hate you, bless them that curse you, pray for them that\ndespitefully use you.\" Of these four rules, the three last may be\nrules of duty, because they refer to things which are plainly, as a\nrule, at least, in the power of your will; but the first, if \"love\"\nbe understood in its natural sense as referring to your feelings, is\nplainly only an \"ideal\" rule, since such feelings are obviously not\ndirectly under our own control, in the same way in which such actions\nas doing good to, blessing or praying for a person are so. To love\ncertain people, or to feel no anger against them, is a thing which\nit is quite impossible to attain directly by will, or perhaps ever\nto attain completely at all. Whereas your behaviour towards them is\na matter within your own control: even if you hate a person, or feel\nangry with him, you can so control yourself as not to do him harm, and\neven to confer benefits upon him. To do good to your enemies may, then,\nreally be your duty; but it cannot, in the strict sense, be your duty\nnot to have evil feelings towards them: all that can possibly be true\nis that it would be your duty if you were able. Yet I think there can\nbe no doubt that what Christ meant to condemn was the occurrence of\nsuch feelings altogether; and since, if what he meant to assert about\nthem in condemning them, would have been certainly false, if he had\nmeant to say that you _could_ avoid ever feeling them, I think it is\nclear that what he meant to assert was _not_ this, or not this only,\nbut something else, which may quite possibly be true. That is to say,\nhe was asserting an ideal rule, not merely a rule of duty.\n\nIt will be seen that this distinction which I am making coincides,\nroughly at all events, with the distinction which is often expressed\nas the distinction between rules which tell you what you ought to\n_be_ and rules which tell you merely what you ought to _do_; or as\nthe distinction between rules which are concerned with your inner\nlife--with your thoughts and feelings--and those which are concerned\nonly with your external actions. The rules which are concerned with\nwhat you ought to _be_ or with your inner life are, for the most part\nat all events, \"ideal\" rules; while those which are concerned with what\nyou ought to do or your external actions are very often, at least,\nrules of duty. And it is often said that one great difference between\nthe New Testament and the Old is its comparatively greater insistence\non \"ideal\" rules--upon a change of heart--as opposed to mere rules of\nduty. And that there is a comparatively greater insistence on ideal\nrules I do not wish to deny. But that there are plenty of ideal rules\nin the Old Testament too must not be forgotten. I have already given an\nexample from the Ten Commandments: namely the rule which says you ought\nnot to covet anything which belongs to your neighbour. And another\nis supplied by the Old Testament commandment, \"Love thy neighbour as\nthyself,\" if by \"love\" is here meant a feeling which is not within our\nown control, and not merely that the Jew is to _help_ other Jews by his\nexternal actions. Indeed, however great may be the difference between\nthe Old Testament and the New in respect of comparative insistence on\nideal rules rather than rules of duty, I am inclined to think that\nthere is at least as great a difference, illustrated by this very rule,\nin another, quite different, respect--namely in the kind of rules,\n_both ideal and of duty,_ which are insisted on. For whereas by \"thy\nneighbour\" in the Old Testament there is plainly meant only other Jews,\nand it is not conceived either that it is the duty of a Jew to help\nforeigners in general, or an ideal for him to love them; in the New\nTestament, where the same words are used, \"my neighbour\" plainly is\nmeant to include all mankind. And this distinction between the view\nthat beneficent action and benevolent feelings should be confined to\nthose of our own nation, and the view that both should be extended\nequally to all mankind,--a distinction which has nothing to do with\nthe distinction between being and doing, between inner and outer, but\naffects both equally--is, I am inclined to think, at least as important\na difference between New Testament and Old, as the comparatively\ngreater insistence on \"ideal\" rules. However, the point upon which I\nwant at present to insist is the distinction between ideal rules and\nrules of duty. Both kinds are commonly included among moral rules,\nand, as my examples have shown, are often mentioned together as if no\ngreat difference were seen between them. What I want to insist on is\nthat there is a great difference between them: that whereas rules of\nduty do directly assert of the idea of duty, in the sense in which to\nsay that something is your duty implies that you _can_ do it, that\ncertain things are duties, the \"ideal\" rules do _not_ assert this, but\nsomething different. Yet the \"ideal\" rules certainly do, in a sense,\nassert a \"moral obligation.\" And hence we have to recognise that the\nphrase \"moral obligation\" is not merely a name for one idea only, but\nfor two very different ideas; and the same will, of course, be true of\nthe corresponding phrase \"morally wrong.\"\n\nWhen, therefore, I say that the idea of \"moral obligation\" is one of\nthe fundamental ideas with which Moral Philosophy is concerned, I think\nwe must admit that this one name really stands for two different ideas.\nBut it does not matter for my purpose which of the two you take. Each\nof them is undoubtedly a moral idea, and whatever answer be given to\nthe question we are going to raise about the one, will also certainly\napply to the other.\n\nBut it is now time to turn to the other idea, with which I said that\nMoral Philosophy has been largely concerned, though it is not, strictly\nspeaking, a moral idea, at all.\n\nAnd I think, perhaps, a good way of bringing out what this idea is,\nis to refer to the Ethics of Aristotle. Everybody would admit that\nthe fundamental idea, with which Aristotle's Ethics is concerned, is\nan idea which it is the business of Moral Philosophy to discuss; and\nyet I think it is quite plain that this idea is not a moral idea at\nall. Aristotle does not set out from' the idea of moral obligation\nor duty (indeed throughout his treatise he only mentions this idea\nquite incidentally); nor even from the idea of moral goodness or moral\nexcellence, though he has a good deal more to say about that; but\nfrom the idea of what he calls \"the human good,\" or \"good for man.\"\nHe starts by raising the question what the good for man _is,_ and his\nwhole book is arranged in the form of giving a detailed answer to that\nquestion. And I think we can gather pretty well what the idea is, which\nhe calls by this name, by considering what he says about it. There\nare two points, in particular, which he insists upon from the outset:\nfirst, that nothing can be good, in the sense he means, unless it is\nsomething which is worth having for its own sake, and not merely for\nthe sake of something else; it must be good _in itself_; it must not,\nlike wealth (to use one example which he gives) be worth having merely\nfor the sake of what you can do with it; it must be a thing which is\nworth having even if nothing further comes of it. And secondly (what\npartly covers the former, but also, I think, says something more) it\nmust, he says, be something that is \"self-sufficient\": something which,\neven if you had nothing else would make your life worth having. And\nfurther light is thrown upon his meaning when he comes to tell you\nwhat he thinks the good for man is: the good, he says, is \"mental,\nactivity--where such activity is of an excellent kind, or, if there\nare several different kinds of excellent mental activity, that which\nhas the best and most perfect kind of excellence; and also\" (he\nsignificantly adds) \"mental activity which lasts through a sufficiently\nlong life.\" The word which I have here translated \"excellence\" is what\nis commonly translated \"virtue\"; but it does not mean quite the same\nas we mean by \"virtue,\" and that in a very important respect. \"Virtue\"\nhas come to mean exclusively _moral_ excellence; and if that were all\nAristotle meant, you might think that what he means by \"good\" came\nvery near being a moral idea. But it turns out that he includes among\n\"excellences,\" intellectual excellence, and even that he thinks that\nthe best and most perfect excellence of which he speaks is a particular\nkind of intellectual excellence, which no one would think of calling a\nmoral quality, namely, the sort of excellence which makes a man a good\nphilosopher. And as for the word which I have translated \"activity,\"\nthe meaning of this can be best brought out by mentioning the reason\nwhich Aristotle himself gives for saying that mere excellence itself is\nnot (as some of the Greeks had said) the good for man. He says, truly\nenough, that a man may possess the greatest excellence--he may be a\nvery excellent man--even when he is asleep, or is doing nothing; and\nhe points out that the possession of excellence when you are asleep\nis not a thing that is desirable _for its own sake_--obviously only\nfor the sake of the effects it may produce when you wake up. It is not\ntherefore, he thinks, mere mental excellence, but the _active exercise_\nof mental excellence--the state of a man's mind, when he not only\npossesses excellent faculties, moral or intellectual, but is actively\nengaged in using them, which really constitutes the human good.\n\nNow, when Aristotle talks of \"the good for man,\" there is, I think, as\nmy quotation is sufficient to show, a certain confusion in his mind\nbetween what is _good_ for man and what is _best_ for man. What he\nreally holds is that _any_ mental activity which exhibits excellence\nand is pleasurable is _a_ good; and when he adds that, if there are\nmany excellences, _the_ good must be mental activity which exhibits\nthe _best_ of them, and that it must last through a sufficiently long\nlife, he only means that this is necessary if a man is to get the\n_best_ he can get, not that this is the _only_ good he can get. And\nthe idea which I wish to insist on is not, therefore, the idea of\n\"_the_ human good,\" but the more fundamental idea of \"good \"; the idea,\nwith regard to which he holds that the working of our minds in some\nexcellent fashion is the only good thing that any of us can possess;\nand the idea of which \"better\" is the comparative, when he says that\nmental activity which exhibits some sorts of excellence is _better_\nthan mental activity which exhibits others, though both are good, and\nthat excellent mental activity continued over a longer time is _better_\nthan the same continued for a shorter. This idea of what is \"good,\" in\nthe sense in which Aristotle uses it in these cases, is an idea which\nwe all of us constantly use, and which is certainly an idea which it\nis the business of Moral Philosophy to discuss, though it is not a\nmoral idea. The main difficulty with regard to it is to distinguish it\nclearly from other senses in which we use the same word. For, when we\nsay that a thing is \"good,\" or one thing \"better\" than another, we by\nno means always mean that it is better in this sense. Often, when we\ncall a thing good we are not attributing to it any characteristic which\nit would possess _if it existed quite alone,_ and if nothing further\nwere to come of it; but are merely saying of it that it is a sort of\nthing from which other good things do in fact come, or which is such\nthat, when accompanied by other things, the whole thus formed is \"good\"\nin Aristotle's sense, although, by itself, it is not. Thus a man may\nbe \"good,\" and his character may be \"good,\" and yet neither are \"good\"\nin this fundamental sense, in which goodness is a characteristic which\na thing would possess, if it existed quite alone. For, as Aristotle\nsays, a good man may exist, and may have a good character, even when\nhe is fast asleep; and yet if there were nothing in the Universe but\ngood men, with good characters, all fast asleep, there would be nothing\nin it which was \"good\" in the fundamental sense with which we are\nconcerned. Thus \"moral goodness,\" in the sense of good character, as\ndistinguished from the actual working of a good character in various\nforms of mental activity, is certainly not \"good\" in the sense in which\ngood means \"good for its own sake.\" And even with regard to the actual\nexercise of certain forms of moral excellence, it seems to me that in\nestimating the value of such exercise relatively to other things, we\nare apt to take into account, not merely its intrinsic value--the sort\nof value which it would possess, if it existed quite alone--but also\nits effects: we rate it higher than we should do if we were considering\nonly its intrinsic value, because we take into account the other good\nthings which we know are apt to flow from it. Certain things which\nhave intrinsic value are distinguished from others, by the fact that\nmore good consequences are apt to flow from them; and where this is\nthe case, we are apt, I think, quite unjustly, to think that their\nintrinsic value must be higher too. One thing, I think, is clear about\nintrinsic value--goodness in Aristotle's sense--namely that it is only\nactual occurrences, actual states of things over a certain period of\ntime--not such things as men, or characters, or material things, that\ncan have any intrinsic value at all. But even this is not sufficient to\ndistinguish intrinsic value clearly from other sorts of goodness: since\neven in the case of actual occurrences, we often call them good or bad\nfor the sake of their effects or their promise of effects. Thus we\nall hope that the state of things in England, as a whole, will really\nbe better some day than it has been in the past--that there will be\nprogress and improvement: we hope, for instance, that, if we consider\nthe whole of the lives lived in England during some year in the next\ncentury, it may turn out that the state of things, as a whole, during\nthat year will be really better than it ever has been in any past year.\nAnd when we use \"better\" in this way--in the sense in which progress\nor improvement means a change to a _better_ state of things--we are\ncertainly thinking partly of a state of things which has a greater\nintrinsic value. And we certainly do not mean by improvement merely\n_moral_ improvement. An improvement in moral conditions, other things\nbeing equal, may no doubt be a gain in intrinsic value; but we should\ncertainly hold that, moral conditions being equal, there is yet room\nfor improvement in other ways--in the diminution of misery and purely\nphysical evils, for example. But in considering the degree of a real\nchange for the better in intrinsic value, there is certainly danger of\nconfusion between the degree in which the actual lives lived are really\nintrinsically better, and the degree in which there is improvement\nmerely in the _means_ for living a good life. If we want to estimate\nrightly what would constitute an intrinsic improvement in the state\nof things in our imagined year next century, and whether it would on\nthe whole be really \"good\" at all, we have to consider what value it\nwould have if it were to be the last year of life upon this planet;\nif the world were going to come to an end, as soon as it was over;\nand therefore to discount entirely all the promises it might contain\nof future goods. This criterion for distinguishing whether the kind\nof goodness which we are attributing to anything is really intrinsic\nvalue or not, the criterion which consists in considering whether it\nis a characteristic which the thing would possess, if it were to have\nabsolutely no further consequences or accompaniments, seems to me to\nbe one which it is very necessary to apply if we wish to distinguish\nclearly between different meanings of the word \"good.\" And it is only\nthe idea of what is good, where by \"good\" is meant a characteristic\nwhich has this mark, that I want now to consider.\n\nThe two ideas, then, with regard to which I want to raise a question,\nare first the moral idea of \"moral obligation\" or \"duty,\" and secondly\nthe non-moral idea of \"good\" in this special sense.\n\nAnd the question with regard to them, which I want to raise, is this.\nWith regard to both ideas many philosophers have thought and still\nthink--not only _think_, but seem to be absolutely convinced, that when\nwe apply them to anything--when we assert of any action that it ought\nnot to have been done, or of any state of things that it was or would\nbe good or better than another, then it _must_ be the case that _all_\nthat we are asserting of the thing or things in question is simply\nand solely that some person or set of persons actually does have, or\nhas a tendency to have a certain sort of feeling towards the thing or\nthings in question: that there is absolutely no more in it than this.\nWhile others seem to be convinced, no less strongly, that there _is_\nmore in it than this: that when we judge that an action is a duty or\nis really wrong, we are _not_ merely making a judgment to the effect\nthat some person or set of persons, have, or tend to have a certain\nsort of feeling, when they witness or think of such actions, and that\nsimilarly when we judge that a certain state of things was or would be\nbetter than another, we are _not_ merely making a judgment about the\nfeelings which some person or set of persons would have, in witnessing\nor thinking of the two states of things, or in comparing them together.\nThe question at issue between these two views is often expressed in\nother less clear forms. It is often expressed as the question whether\nthe ideas of duty and of good or value, are or are not, \"objective\"\nideas: as the problem as to the \"objectivity\" of duty and intrinsic\nvalue. The first set of philosophers would maintain that the notion of\nthe \"objectivity\" of duty and of value is a mere chimera; while the\nsecond would maintain that these ideas really are \"objective.\" And\nothers express it as the question whether the ideas of duty and of good\nare \"absolute\" or purely \"relative\": whether there is any such thing\nas an absolute duty or an absolute good, or whether good and duty are\npurely relative to human feelings and desires. But both these ways\nof expressing it are, I think, apt to lead to confusion. And another\neven less clear way in which it is put is by asking the question: Is\nthe assertion that such and such a thing is a duty, or has intrinsic\nvalue, ever _a dictate of reason?_ But so far as I can gather, the\nquestion really at issue, and expressed in these obscure ways, is the\none which I have tried to state. It is the question whether when we\njudge (whether truly or falsely) that an action is a duty or a state\nof things good, _all_ that we are thinking about the action or the\nstate of things in question, is simply and solely that we ourselves\nor others have or tend to have a certain feeling towards it when we\ncontemplate or think of it. And the question seems to me to be of great\ninterest, because, if this is all, then it is evident that all the\nideas with which Moral Philosophy is concerned are merely psychological\nideas; and all moral rules, and statements as to what is intrinsically\nvaluable, merely true or false psychological statements; so that\nthe whole of Moral Philosophy and Ethics will be merely departments\nof Psychology. Whereas, if the contrary is the case, then these two\nideas of moral obligation and intrinsic value, will be no more purely\npsychological ideas than are the ideas of shape or size or number; and\nMoral Philosophy will be concerned with characteristics of actions\nand feelings and states of affairs, which these actions and feelings\nand states of affairs would or might have possessed, even if human\npsychology had been quite different from what it is.\n\nWhich, then, of these two views is the true one? Are these two ideas\nmerely psychological ideas in the sense which I have tried to explain,\nor are they not?\n\nAs I have said, I feel some doubts myself whether they are or not: it\ndoes not seem to me to be a matter to dogmatize upon. But I am strongly\ninclined to think that they are not merely psychological; that Moral\nPhilosophy and Ethics are not mere departments of Psychology. In favour\nof the view that the two ideas in question are merely psychological,\nthere is, so far as I am aware, nothing whatever to be said, except\nthat so many philosophers have been absolutely convinced that they are.\nNone of them seem to me to have succeeded in bringing forward a single\nargument in favour of their view. And against the view that they are,\nthere seem to me to be some quite definite arguments, though I am not\nsatisfied that any of these arguments are absolutely conclusive. I will\ntry to state briefly and clearly what seem to me the main arguments\nagainst the view that these are merely psychological ideas; although,\nin doing so, I am faced with a certain difficulty. For though, as I\nhave said, many philosophers are absolutely convinced, that \"duty\"\nand \"good\" do merely stand for psychological ideas, they are by no\nmeans agreed _what_ the psychological ideas are for which they stand.\nDifferent philosophers have hit on very different ideas as being the\nideas for which they stand; and this very fact that, if they _are_\npsychological ideas at all, it is so difficult to agree as to _what_\nideas they are, seems to me in itself to be an argument against the\nview that they are so.\n\nLet me take each of the two ideas separately, and try to exhibit the\nsort of objection there seems to be to the view that it is merely a\npsychological idea.\n\nTake first the idea of moral obligation. What purely psychological\nassertion can I be making about an action, when I assert that it was\n\"wrong,\" that it ought not to have been done?\n\nIn this case, one view, which is in some ways the most plausible that\ncan be taken, is that in every case I am merely making an assertion\nabout my own psychology. But what assertion about my own psychology can\nI be making? Let us take as an example, the view of Prof. Westermarck,\nwhich is as plausible a view of this type as any that I know of. He\nholds that what I am judging when I judge an action to be wrong, is\nmerely that it is of a sort which _tends_ to excite in me a peculiar\nkind of feeling--the feeling of moral indignation or disapproval. He\ndoes not say that what I am judging is that the action in question _is\nactually_ exciting this feeling in me. For it is obviously not true\nthat, when I judge an action to be much more wrong than another, I am\nalways actually feeling much indignation at the thought of either, or\nmuch more indignation at the thought of the one than at that of the\nother; and it is inconceivable that I should constantly be making so\ngreat a mistake as to my own psychology, as to think that I am actually\nfeeling great indignation when I am not. But he thinks it is plausible\nto say that I am making a judgment as to the _tendency_ of such actions\nto excite indignation in me; that, for instance, when I judge that one\nis much more wrong than the other, I am merely asserting the fact,\ntaught me by my past experience, that, if I were to witness the two\nactions, under similar circumstances, I should feel a much more intense\nindignation at the one than at the other.[1]\n\nBut there is one very serious objection to such a view, which I think\nthat those who take it are apt not fully to realise. If this view be\ntrue, then when I judge an action to be wrong, I am merely making a\njudgment about my own feelings towards it; and when you judge it to\nbe wrong, you are merely making a judgment about yours. And hence the\nword \"wrong\" in my mouth, means something entirely different from\nwhat it does in yours; just as the word \"I\" in my mouth stands for an\nentirely different person from what it does in yours--in mine it stands\nfor me, in yours it stands for you. That is to say when I judge of a\ngiven action that it was wrong, and you perhaps of the very same action\nthat it was not, we are not in fact differing in opinion about it at\nall; any more than we are differing in opinion if I make the judgment\n\"I came from Cambridge to-day\" and you make the judgment \"_I_ did not\ncome from Cambridge to-day.\" When _I_ say \"That was wrong\" I am merely\nsaying \"That sort of action excites indignation in me, when I see it\";\nand when you say \"No; it was not wrong\" you are merely saying \"It\ndoes not excite indignation in _me,_ when _I_ see it.\" And obviously\nboth judgments may perfectly well be true together; just as my judgment\nthat I did come from Cambridge to-day and yours that you did not, may\nperfectly well be true together. In other words, and this is what I\nwant to insist on, if this view be true, then there is absolutely\nno such thing as a difference of opinion upon moral questions. If\ntwo persons think they differ in opinion on a moral question (and it\ncertainly seems as if they sometimes _think_ so), they are always,\non this view, making a mistake, and a mistake so gross that it seems\nhardly possible that they should make it: a mistake as gross as that\nwhich would be involved in thinking that when you say \"I did not come\nfrom Cambridge to-day\" you are denying what I say when I say \"I did.\"\nAnd this seems to me to be a very serious objection to the view.\nDon't people, in fact, sometimes really differ in opinion on a moral\nquestion? Certainly all appearances are in favour of the view that they\ndo: and yet, if they do, that can only be if when I think a thing to\nbe wrong, and you think it not to be wrong, I mean by \"wrong\" the very\n_same_ characteristic which you mean, and am thinking that the action\npossesses this characteristic while you are thinking it does not. It\nmust be the very _same_ characteristic which we both mean; it cannot\nbe, as this view says it is, merely that I am thinking that it has to\nmy feelings the very same relation, which you are thinking that it\nhas not got to yours; since, if this were all, then there would be no\ndifference of opinion between us.\n\nAnd this view that when we talk of wrong or duty, we are not\nmerely, each of us, making a statement about the relation of the\nthing in question to our own feelings, may be reinforced by another\nconsideration. It is commonly believed that some moral rules exhibit a\n_higher_ morality than others: that, for instance a person who believes\nthat it is our duty to do good to our enemies, has a higher moral\nbelief, than one who believes that he has no such duty, but only a duty\nto do good to his friends or fellow-countrymen. And Westermarck himself\nbelieves that, some moral beliefs, \"mark a stage of higher refinement\nin the evolution of the moral consciousness.\"[2] But what, on his view\ncan be meant by saying that one moral belief is higher than another? If\nA believes that it is his duty to do good to his enemies and B believes\nthat it is not, in what sense can A's belief be higher than B's? Not,\non this view, in the sense that what A believes is true, and what B\nbelieves is not; for what A is believing is merely that the idea of not\ndoing good to your enemies tends to excite in him a feeling of moral\nindignation, and what B believes is merely that it does not tend to\nexcite this feeling in _him_: and both beliefs may perfectly well be\ntrue; it may really be true that the same actions do excite the feeling\nin A, and that they don't in B. What then, could Westermarck mean by\nsaying that A's morality is higher than B's? So far as I can see, what,\non his own views, he would have to mean is merely that he himself,\nWestermarck, shares A's morality and does not share B's: that it is\ntrue of him, as of A, that neglecting to do good to enemies excites\nhis feelings of moral indignation and not true of him as it is of B,\nthat it does _not_ excite such feelings in him. In short he would have\nto say that what he means by calling A's morality the higher is merely\n\"A's morality is _my_ morality, and B's is not.\" But it seems to me\nquite clear that when we say one morality is higher than another, we do\nnot merely mean that it is our own. We are not merely asserting that it\nhas a certain relation to our own feelings, but are asserting, if I may\nsay so, that the person who has it has a better moral taste than the\nperson who has not. And whether or not this means merely, as I think,\nthat what the one believes is true, and what the other believes is\nfalse, it is at all events inconsistent with the view that in all cases\nwe are merely making a statement about our own feelings.\n\nFor these reasons it seems to me extremely difficult to believe that\nwhen we judge things to be wrong, each of us is merely making a\njudgment about _his own_ psychology. But if not about our own, then\nabout whose? I have already said that the view that, if the judgment\nis merely a psychological one at all, it is a judgment about our\nown psychology, is in some ways more plausible than any other view.\nAnd I think we can now see that any other view is _not_ plausible.\nThe alternatives are that I should be making a judgment about the\npsychology of all mankind, or about that of some particular section\nof it. And that the first alternative is not true, is, I think,\nevident from the fact that, when I judge an action to be wrong, I\nmay emphatically _not_ believe that it is true of all mankind that\nthey would regard it with feelings of moral disapproval. I may know\nperfectly well that some would not. Most philosophers, therefore, have\nnot ventured to say that this is the judgment I am making; they say,\nfor instance, that I am making a judgment about the feelings of the\nparticular society to which I belong--about, for instance, the feelings\nof an impartial spectator in that society. But, if this view be taken,\nit is open to the same objections as the view that I am merely making a\njudgment about my own feelings. If we could say that every man, when he\njudges a thing to be wrong, was making a statement about the feelings\nof all mankind, then when A says \"This is wrong\" and B says \"No, it\nisn't,\" they would really be differing in opinion, since A would be\nsaying that all mankind feel in a certain way towards the action, and\nB would be saying that they don't. But if A is referring merely to his\nsociety and B to his, and their societies are different, then obviously\nthey are not differing in opinion at all: it may perfectly well be true\nboth that an impartial spectator in A's society does have a certain\nsort of feeling towards actions of the sort in question, and that an\nimpartial spectator in B's does not. This view, therefore, implies that\nit is impossible for two men belonging to different societies ever to\ndiffer in opinion on a moral question. And this is a view which I find\nit almost as hard to accept as the view that _no_ two men ever differ\nin opinion on one.\n\nFor these reasons I think there are serious objections to the view\nthat the idea of moral obligation is merely a psychological idea.\n\nBut now let us briefly consider the idea of \"good,\" in Aristotle's\nsense, or intrinsic value.\n\nAs regards this idea, there is again a difference of opinion among\nthose who hold that it is a psychological idea, as to _what_ idea it\nis. The majority seem to hold that it is to be defined, somehow, in\nterms of desire; while others have held that what we are judging when\nwe judge that one state of things is or would be intrinsically better\nthan another, is rather that the belief that the one was going to be\nrealized would, under certain circumstances, give more pleasure to some\nman or set of men, than the belief that the other was. But the same\nobjections seem to me to apply whichever of these two views be taken.\n\nLet us take desire. About whose desires am I making a judgment, when I\njudge that one state of things would be better than another?\n\nHere again, it may be said, first of all, that I am merely making a\njudgment about my own. But in this case the view that my judgment is\nmerely about my own psychology is, I think, exposed to an obvious\nobjection to which Westermarck's view that my judgments of moral\nobligation are about my own psychology was not exposed. The obvious\nobjection is that it is evidently not true that I do in fact always\ndesire more, what I judge to be better: I may judge one state of things\nto be better than another, even when I know perfectly well not only\nthat I don't desire it more, but that I have no tendency to do so. It\nis a notorious fact that men's strongest desires are, as a rule, for\nthings in which they themselves have some personal concern; and yet\nthe fact that this is so, and that they know it to be so, does not\nprevent them from judging that changes, which would not affect them\npersonally, would constitute a very much greater improvement in the\nworld's condition, than changes which would. For this reason alone the\nview that when I judge one state of things to be better than another I\nam merely making a judgment about my own psychology, must, I think, be\ngiven up: it is incredible that we should all be making such mistakes\nabout our feelings, as, on this view, we should constantly be doing.\nAnd there is, of course, besides, the same objection, as applied in\nthe case of moral obligation: namely that, if this view were true, no\ntwo men could ever differ in opinion as to which of two states was the\nbetter, whereas it appears that they certainly sometimes do differ in\nopinion on such an issue.\n\nMy judgment, then, is not merely a judgment about my own psychology:\nbut, if so, about whose psychology is it a judgment? It cannot be a\njudgment that all men desire the one state more than the other; because\nthat would include the judgment that I myself do so, which, as we have\nseen, I often know to be false, even while I judge that the one state\nreally is better. And it cannot, I think, be a judgment merely about\nthe feelings or desires of an impartial spectator in my own society;\nsince that would involve the paradox that men belonging to different\nsocieties could never differ in opinion as to what was better. But we\nhave here to consider an alternative, which did not arise in the case\nof moral obligation. It is a notorious fact that the satisfaction of\nsome of our desires is incompatible with the satisfaction of others,\nand the satisfaction of those of some men with the satisfaction of\nthose of others. And this fact has suggested to some philosophers that\nwhat we mean by saying that one state of things would be better than\nanother, is merely that it is a state in which more of the desires, of\nthose who were in it, would be satisfied at once, than would be the\ncase with the other. But to this view the fundamental objection seems\nto me to be that whether the one state was better than the other would\ndepend not merely upon the number of desires that were simultaneously\nsatisfied in it, but upon what the desires were desires for. I can\nimagine a state of things in which all desires were satisfied, and yet\ncan judge of it that it would not be so good as another in which some\nwere left unsatisfied. And for this reason I cannot assent to the view\nthat my judgment, that one state of things is better than another is\nmerely a judgment about the psychology of the people concerned in it.\n\nThis is why I find it hard to believe that either the idea of moral\nobligation or the idea of intrinsic value is merely a psychological\nidea. It seems to me that Moral Philosophy cannot be merely a\ndepartment of Psychology. But no doubt there may be arguments on the\nother side to which I have not done justice.\n\n\n[1] E Westermarck, _The Origin and Development of Moral Ideas_, Vol. I,\npp. 4, 13, 17-18, 100-101. On p. 105, however, Westermarck suggests a\nview inconsistent with this one; namely that, when I judge an action to\nbe wrong, I am not _merely_ asserting that it has a tendency to excite\nmoral indignation in me, but am also asserting that other people _would\nbe_ convinced that it has a tendency to excite moral indignation in\nthem, if they \"knew the act and all its attendant circumstances as well\nas [I do], and if, at the same time their emotions were as refined as\n[mine].\"\n\n[2] Ibid. p. 89.\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\n\n\n    INDEX\n\n\n    Abstractions, \"illegitimate\"\n    Agnosticism\n    \"Analytic\" truths\n    Apprehension, direct\n    Aristotle's Ethics\n    Attention\n    Awareness\n\n    \"Being\" and \"Reality\"\n    Berkeley\n    Bradley\n    Causal connection\n        necessity\n    Consciousness\n    \"Content\"\n\n    Deduction\n    Difference,\n        numerical and qualitative\n        intrinsic\n    Direct apprehension\n        observation\n        perception\n    Duty and Wrong\n        \"objectivity\" of\n\n    Entails\n        and \"implies\"\n    _Esse_ and _percipi,_\n    Existence\n        and \"reality\"\n        of physical objects\n    \"Experience,\" ambiguity of\n    External objects and facts\n        relations\n\n    Fact, matters of\n    \"Follows\"\n\n    \"Given,\" ambiguity of\n    \"Good,\" ambiguity of\n        objectivity of\n        \"for man\"\n\n    Hegel\n    Hume\n\n    \"I.\"\n    Idealism\n    Ideas\n    Identity of Indiscernibles\n    \"Implication,\"\n    Indiscernibles, Identity of\n    Induction,\n        conditions necessary for\n    Internal relations,\n        dogma of\n        two senses of\n    Intrinsic difference\n        nature\n        predicates\n        value\n\n    James, William\n    Joachim, H. H.\n\n    Kant\n    Knowledge\n        and belief\n        by description\n\n    Leibniz\n\n    \"Manifestation of\"\n    Material objects or things\n    Mill. J. S.\n    Minds, \"in our\"\n    \"Modify\"\n    Moral rules, two kinds of\n\n    Necessary truths\n    Necessity, three senses of\n        logical\n        unconditional\n\n    \"Objectivity,\" ambiguity of\n        of kinds of value\n\n    Objects,\n        external\n        material\n        physical, and sensibles\n\n    Observation\n    Organic unities\n    \"Ought,\" two meanings of\n        objectivity of\n        and \"wrong\"\n\n    Part, physical\n        and whole\n\n    \"Perception,\" ambiguity of\n        direct\n    _Percipi_ and _esse_\n    Physical objects and sensibles\n    Pickwickian senses\n    \"Possible,\" three senses of\n    Pragmatist theory of truth\n    \"Presented,\" ambiguity of\n\n    Reality\n    Reason, \"dictates of\"\n    Reasons\n    Reid, T.\n    Relational properties\n    Relations,\n        dogma of internal\n        external\n        internal\n    Right, objectivity of\n    Russell, B.\n\n    \"See,\" ambiguity of\n    \"Seems\"\n    Sensations\n        proper\n    Sense-data\n    Sensibles\n    Solipsism\n    Spiritual\n    Strachey, O.\n    \"Subjective\"\n    \"Synthetic\" truths\n\n    Taylor, A. E., 8\n    \"Time\"\n    Truth,\n        and mutability\n        pragmatist theory of\n        and utility\n        and verification\n        of words\n    Truths, \"analytic\" and \"synthetic\"\n        \"man-made\"\n        necessary\n\n    Value, intrinsic\n        objectivity of\n\n    Westermarck, E.\n    \"Wrong,\" objectivity of\n        and \"ought\"","title":"Philosophical Studies","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":115416}