May we give this position the dignity of a philosophical doctrine and hold that, in the somewhat nebulous realm inhabited by the philosopher, men are not bound by the same rules of evidence that obtain elsewhere?  That this is actually done, those who read much in the field of modern philosophy are well aware.  Several excellent writers have maintained that we need not, even if there seems to be evidence for them, accept views of the universe which do not satisfy “our whole nature.”

We should not confuse with this position the very different one which maintains that we have a right to hold tentatively, and with a willingness to abandon them should evidence against them be forthcoming, views which we are not able completely to establish, but which seem reasonable.  One may do this with perfect sincerity, and without holding that philosophical truth is in any way different from scientific truth.  But the other position goes beyond this; it assumes that man must be satisfied, and that only that can be true which satisfies him.

I ask, is it not significant that such an assumption should be made only in the realm of the unverifiable?  No man dreams of maintaining that the rise and fall of stocks will be such as to satisfy the whole nature even of the elect, or that the future history of man on this planet is a thing to be determined by some philosopher who decides for us what would or would not be desirable.

Surely all truths of election—­those truths that we simply choose to have true—­are something much less august than that Truth of Evidence which sometimes seems little to fall in with our desires, and in the face of which we are humble listeners, not dictators.  Before the latter we are modest; we obey, lest we be confounded.  And if, in the philosophic realm, we believe that we may order Truth about, and make her our slave, is it not because we have a secret consciousness that we are not dealing with Truth at all, but with Opinion, and with Opinion that has grown insolent because she cannot be drawn from her obscurity and be shown to be what she is?

Sometimes it is suddenly revealed to a man that he has been accepting two orders of truth.  I once walked and talked with a good scholar who discoursed of high themes and defended warmly certain theses.  I said to him:  If you could go into the house opposite, and discover unmistakably whether you are in the right or in the wrong,—­discover it as unmistakably as you can discover whether there is or is not furniture in the drawing-room,—­would you go?  He thought over the matter for a while, and then answered frankly; No!  I should not go; I should stay out here and argue it out.

92.  AIM AT CLEARNESS AND SIMPLICITY.—­There is no department of investigation in which it is not desirable to cultivate clearness and simplicity in thinking, speaking, and writing.  But there are certain reasons why we should be especially on our guard in philosophy against the danger of employing a tongue “not understanded of the people.”  There are dangerous pitfalls concealed under the use of technical words and phrases.