contemplate the subtle and often perplexed windings which reason takes in working her way through the problem—a problem which, though apparently clearer than the noonday sun, is really darker than the mysteries of Erebus. In short, we may speculate the problem. In grappling with it we may trust ourselves to the mighty current of thinking, with all its whirling eddies, certain that, if our thinking be genuine objective thinking, which deals with nothing but ascertained facts, it will bring us at last into the haven of truth. We now propose to consider which of these modes of treating the problem is the best; we shall begin by making a few remarks upon the second, for it was this which brought us to a stand, and seduced us into the present digression.
It is, no doubt, perfectly true that we all believe in the existence of matter, and that we all act up to this belief. The truth that "each of us exists;" the truth that "each of us is the same person to-day that he was yesterday;" the truth that "a material universe exists, and that we believe in its existence;" all these are most important truths, most important things to know. It is difficult to see how we could get on without this knowledge. Yet they are not worth one straw in communication. And why not? Just for the same reason that atmospheric air, though absolutely indispensable to our existence, has no value whatever in exchange; this reason being that we can get, and have already got, both the air and the truths in unlimited abundance for
