that the probability of error consequently increases as the length of an argument increases.

§ 437. Do we not here then discern a rigorous test of the relative validities of conflicting conclusions? Not only as judged instinctively, but as judged by a fundamental logic, that must be the most certain conclusion which involves the postulate the fewest times.

We find that under any circumstances-whether the postulate be uniformly true or not, this must hold good. Here, therefore, we have a method of ascertaining the comparative values of all cognitions.

CHAPTER XIII.

ITS COROLLARIES.

§ 438. From this critical examination of the processes by which conflicting judgments are to be appraised, we return now to the judgments especially concerning us-those of metaphysicians. By the test arrived at, we have to estimate the worths of the Idealistic and the Sceptical conclusions, in contrast with the worth of the Realistic conclusion. Let us suppose all other things equal. Let us suppose that the anti-Realistic conclusion is perfectly independent, and can be reached without the Realistic conclusion being previously posited (which it can not); let us suppose, too, that the anti-Realistic conclusion is given in terms as distinct as those in which the Realistic conclusion is given (which it is not); and thus supposing the two conclusions to be otherwise equally good, let us observe the numbers of assumptions made in reaching them respectively.

That the comparison may be fairly made, let the reader sweep his mind clear of all hypotheses, and bring it to bear afresh upon the facts. As far as he can, let him keep out these verbal symbols, so often mistaken for the things symbolized-this paper-currency of thought, which continually leads to intellectual insolvency. Let him expel from his consciousness everything that can be expelled: so reducing his consciousness to its pre-speculative state.

Now let him contemplate an object-this book, for instance. Resolutely refraining from theorizing, let him say what he finds. He finds that he is conscious of the book as existing apart from himself. Does there enter into his consciousness any notion about sensations? No: so far from such notion being contained in his consciousness, it has to be fetched from elsewhere, to the manifest disturbance of his consciousness. Does he perceive that the thing he is conscious of is an image of the book? Not at all: it is only by remembering his metaphysical readings that he can suppose such image to exist. So long as he refuses to translate the facts into any hypothesis, he feels simply conscious of the book, and not of an impression of the book-of an objective thing, and not of a subjective thing. He feels that the sole content of his consciousness is the book considered as an external reality. He feels that this recognition of the book as an external reality is a single indivisible act. Whether originally separable into premisses and inference or not (a question which he manifestly cannot here entertain), he feels that this act is undecomposable. And, lastly, he feels that, do what he will, he cannot reverse this act he cannot conceive that where he sees and feels the book there is nothing. Hence, while he continues looking at the book, his belief in it as an external reality possesses the highest validity possible. It has the direct guarantee of the Universal Postulate; and it assumes the Universal Postulate only once.

I am

§ 439. Here, by asserting that in Perception proper, knowledge of the object as existing externally is acquired by a mental act which, however composite it originally was, has become simple to the developed intelligence, tacitly denying the assertions made by Prof. Ferrier and Sir W. Hamilton. These writers, otherwise differing so much, agree in affirming that the knowledge of self and the know. ledge of not-self are inseparable. The doctrine of Prof. Ferrier is that "The object of knowledge * * always

is, and must be, the object with the addition of oneself,object plus subject, * * * Self is an integral and essential part of every object of cognition." Similarly, Sir W. Hamilton says:-"In the act of sensible perception I am conscious of two things;-of myself as the perceiving subject, and of an external reality in relation to my sense as the object perceived. * * Each of these is apprehended equally and at once in the same indivisible energy;" or, as he elsewhere phrases it-" in the same indivisible moment of intuition."

It seems to me, on the contrary, that the consciousness of self and the consciousness of not-self, are the elements of an unceasing rhythm in consciousness—a perpetual alternation, ordinarily so rapid as to evade observation, though occasionally so much retarded as to be observable. Like the divergence already set forth (§ 353) from Sir W. Hamilton's interpretation of the antagonism between Sensation and Perception, is the divergence that arises here: this second divergence being, in truth, a corollary from the first. Just as before we saw that Sensation and Perception respectively dominate in consciousness with degrees of strength that vary inversely, thus excluding one another with varying degrees of stringency; so here we shall see that the consciousness of self and the consciousness of not-self, are ever tending each to exclude the other, but each failing to do this for more than an instant, save in those exceptional cases where it is raised to extreme vividness. Thus, on the one hand, when the external object or act is an astounding one, the observer partially loses consciousness of himself. He is, as we say, lost in wonder, or has forgotten himself; and we describe him as afterwards returning to himself, recollecting himself. In this state, the related impressions received from the external object, joined with representations of the objective changes about to follow, monopolize consciousness, and keep out all those feelings and ideas which constitute selfconsciousness. Hence what is called "fascination;" and

hence the stupefaction on witnessing a tremendous catastrophe. Persons so "possessed" are sometimes killed from the inability to recover self-consciousness in time to avoid danger. Even those who are not thus paralyzed are apt to show a kindred "absence of mind;" for such are sometimes wounded without knowing it, and are surprised to hear afterwards what they did while in peril-a fact proving that their actions were automatic rather than conscious. Conversely, self-consciousness occasionally rises to a degree in which the individual is, as we say, absorbed in thought and oblivious of the things around. Even intellectual pre-occupation may become so complete that, passing in the street persons perfectly well-known to us, we may look them in the face and be afterwards absolutely unaware that we have met them. And when consciousness is filled with intense pain, sensational or emotional, the thoughts of external things are almost excluded -returning at relatively-long intervals in but an imperfect way.

Sir W. Hamilton's view is, I think, disproved by one of his own axiomatic principles. At page 49 of his "Discussions, &c.," he says:-" Relatives are known only together: the science of opposites is one. Subject and object, mind and matter, are known only in correlation and contrast-and by the same common act." Now, were all antitheses those between self and not-self, nothing would remain to be said. But there are numberless antitheses, both members of which pertain to the not-self; and numberless others, both members of which pertain to self-of the one class, full and empty, near and remote; of the other, pleasure and pain, belief and disbelief. According to the foregoing general law, each of these pairs of relatives can be known only by the contrast of its terms-near only as the correlative of remote, and so on. But if the ego is always present to consciousness as the correlative of the non-ego, how can two elements of the non-ego over be conceived as the correlatives of each other? If I can