(by criteria ultimately practical) isolated the phenomenon we call sunrise, is not a theory, but the fact which has called all theories into being.
In addition to generalizing hypothetical objects to explain phenomena, this process of the interpretation of reality by our thought also bestows a derivative reality on the abstractions themselves with which thought works. If they are the instruments wherewith thought accomplishes such effects upon reality, they must surely be themselves real. Hence philosophers have long asserted the reality of Ideas, and we commonly hold the triangle and the space of mathematical abstraction to be the real triangle and the real space. (Mr. Ritchie's fourth sense.) Similarly the goals to which the methods of our thought tend — its intrinsic ideals — acquire a hypothetical reality of a lofty order. For it is evident that if the real nature of phenomena is to be discovered by the way of thought, the supreme ideals of that thought must be, or be realized by, the ultimate reality. But it would not follow that those ideals would render reality mere thought. For they might point either at a reality which should transcend thought, or at one of which thought should be but a single activity — even as it is now the activity of real beings.
But it is needless to discuss what would happen to thought if reality had been rendered harmonious, in view of the fact that no philosophy has succeeded in doing this. The whole attempt is dependent for its validity on its success, and its success is, to put it mildly, imperfect. The scientific view of atoms goes behind the popular view of "things," because it holds that the latter do not construct a tenable view of phenomena. Mr. Ritchie would treat the atoms similarly. But would he seriously contend that he can already give an entirely consistent, coherent, and intelligible view of the whole world, giving a reason why everything is exactly what it is and not otherwise? Of course Mr. Ritchie does not lay claim to omniscience. But if he cannot, in what respect is he better than those publicans and sinners, the "plain men" and the realists? If he cannot, why make such a fuss about coherency and consistency as the test of reality? By his own admission they represent a postulate which is never actually realized, and for aught we know never can be. If he cannot, lastly, what boots it to explain that though reality is not thought for us, it is for God (p. 272)? This free and easy appeal to the Deity, in the midst of a discussion of human knowledge, in order to silence an opponent and to fill up any gap in the argument, ought surely to be as severely reprobated as the medieval practice of ascribing any ill-understood fact or bit of knowledge to the agency of the Devil. The question is not whether to a divine mind, supposing its existence to be tenable in Mr. Ritchie's sense, reality is thought, but whether that assertion is a valid defence against the objection that Mr. Ritchie has given away his case when he has admitted that reality is not thought to
