after truth. the inquirer first, to discover what general principles, what particular facts, and what methods of reasoning are clearly selfevident, and therefore supremely true. When once these have been as far as possible ascertained, we may next proceed to elucidate by their help those truths, next in rank, which underlie all science, following this up with an examination of the teachings of science itself, in the supreme or highest sense of that word. Having accomplished that task, we shall have done all we can in the direct pursuit of truth, and may leave to the followers of each separate, subordinate science that indirect pursuit of it which consists in the investigation of the several orders of truths with which each separate science deals. All our knowledge must either be self-evident, or must be legitimately deduced from what is self-evident. In our pursuit of truth, our endeavour must be to proceed from the known to the unknown, not, of course, with the expectation of being able ever to know all things, but with a determination not to renounce beforehand the investigation of any problem which may seem to demand inquiry at our hands. CHAPTER II. SELF-KNOWLEDGE. The primary fact of our own continuous existence is known to us with supreme certainty, though, like our feelings, not explicitly so without the aid of reflection. What we first and directly perceive is our own momentary activity, but this perception implicitly contains the knowledge of both our existence and our feelings, which respectively and equally need, for their explicit cognition, a reflex mental act. First fundamental fact, self-knowledge-This commonly supposed certain-Need of considering arguments against its possibility— What these mean-Some truth in them-Also a false assumption and an error of fact-Mistake as to an implication-Self-knowledge like our knowledge of others-Primary cognitions-An objection-Met by a distinction-Explicit and implicit knowledge -Feelings cannot be known without self-knowledge-Feelings not known prior to self-A fundamental error and its consequences. IN the preceding chapter an endeavour has been made to bring home to the mind of the reader the truth that the supreme and ultimate criterion of the certainty of any proposition is its own luminous self-evidence. The first task of the inquirer after truth was also declared to be a search for the most certain general principles, facts, and methods of reasoning. The quest of truth, however, is the quest of what is eminently real; and so, to ensure reality, we will begin, not with the consideration of any "abstract principle," but of a “fact.” mental fact, It is no unusual thing for a person to exclaim, with First fundareference to something about which he is sure, "I am as self-knowledge. certain of it as I am of my own existence;" and the This commonly sup posed certain. exclamation is generally understood to denote a very high degree of certainty. The so often quoted Delphic precept, "Know thyself," has been explained in different senses by different writers; but there is just one thing in which all these writers agree, and that is that men can know themselves. There are, of course, some unfortunate persons, in a more or less diseased or idiotic state of mind, who, from defect of memory or whatever cause, are unable to recognize their own personal identity. But this book is addressed to reasonable men of ordinary intelligence, and not to those who are wholly or partially out of their minds; and, indeed, a plain man would very naturally consider any one to be "out of his mind " who sincerely professed that he could not know his own existence with entire certainty. It is, therefore, to be feared that some readers may be impatient at meeting with an argument directed to show that we have the fullest reason to be supremely certain of the fact of our own existence. They may at first very naturally feel disinclined to consider reasonings about a matter they have never themselves felt it possible to doubt, even if they have heard that other persons have been so absurd" as to profess to doubt about it. "To doubt one's existence," they will say, "is even more absurd than to believe that one's limbs are made of glass!" And yet there are two arguments good reasons why no one who would earnestly inquire possibility after truth, should refuse to consider carefully the argu Need of considering against its ments which follow. The first of these two reasons is that the question concerning the supreme certainty of the fact of our self-knowledge is of fundamental importance for the inquiry after truth. If that certainty cannot be established, then the inquiry after truth may, for reasons hereafter stated, be given up as one essentially insoluble. The second reason is the circumstance that very eminent, highly intellectual men have denied, and do deny, the supreme certainty of our self-knowledge. Now, it is not for a moment to be supposed that such men are insincere, or that they can adhere to a doctrine which does not contain some truth. It will probably, then, be worth while to try and find out what this truth is which they do hold, and to examine whether they have not overlooked some mean. other truth which, if also taken into account, would serve to explain their paradoxical denial of certainty to our selfknowledge. And indeed, as might be expected, these What these paradoxical assertions do not turn out, when carefully examined, to be so glaringly absurd as they at first sight seem to be. When the supreme certainty of our knowledge of our own existence is denied, the certain existence of the feeling which any person may have at the moment when he says, "I exist," is not thereby denied. What is denied, is the possibility of our having any supreme certainty that one continuous, enduring being, or "self," goes on existing during the succession of what we call its different "feelings." It is fully admitted that we are conscious of our various feelings as they successively arise, but we are said not to be conscious of any continuously existing being which remains essentially unchanged throughout the successive changes of its feelings. Such a being, it is affirmed, we can never know apart from our various "states of feeling;" and, as we can never even know it, we most certainly can never be "supremely certain " about its existence. Supreme certainty, they say, we may indeed have about our present feeling, whatever that may be, but about nothing else; and they deny that we have, or can have, such certainty about our continuous, enduring "self," or "ego," as we have about our "feelings," or, as they are generally termed, our "states of consciousness." A little Some truth reflection will show that there is a certain truth in these statements, strange and startling as they may at first sight seem to be. Any one, even unaccustomed to such reflex mental acts,* may easily perceive that he can be absolutely certain about the existence of any feeling-such as, e.g., a feeling of a sweet taste, or of warmth, or of cold-while he is actually feeling it. A little further reflection will show him that the present existence of such a feeling, or “state of consciousness," is so certain that it is absolutely impossible for even any supernatural power, however exalted, to make him think that a feeling does not exist while he himself is actually feeling it. In maintaining, then, the absolute certainty of any * See above, p. 8. C in them; assumption of fact. present "feeling In conceding so much it may appear that we have conceded all, but such is by no means the case; for a also a false little patience will enable us to disentangle, in the asserand an error tions criticised, one unwarranted assumption and one error of fact. The unwarranted assumption is, that we can know nothing with supreme certainty unless we know it by itself, and apart from any other entity with which it is intimately connected, either temporarily or permanently. The error of fact is, that we can be conscious of the feelings we have, apart from any consciousness of the self which has such feelings. As to the unwarranted presumption, it is so far from being a truth that we can only know a thing by itself, that the very contrary is the case. We can really know no thing by itself. No thing can be known by us except through our simultaneous knowledge of some other thing with which it stands in some relation or other. For example, nothing can be known as large except we know something smaller; or as warm, or sweet, or dark, or rough, except in contrast with things relatively cold, not-sweet, light, or smooth. It would not, then, be by any means wonderful if we only knew ourselves as related with our simultaneously known feelings, or only knew our feelings as related with our simultaneously known selves. As to the error of fact, it is a truth (to the demonstration of which this chapter will be devoted) that what we have just represented as being by no means wonderful, is certainly true. We have not, and cannot have, any more knowledge or perception of our feelings apart from our knowledge and perception of ourselves, than we can have knowledge or |