Some reader of M. Bergson might say to himself:  All this is ingenious introspection and divination; grant that it is true, and how does that lead to a new theory of the universe?  You have been studying surface appearances and the texture of primitive consciousness; that is a part of the internal rumble of this great engine of the world.  How should it loosen or dissolve that engine, as your philosophy evidently professes that it must?  That nature exists we perceive whenever we resume our intellectual and practical life, interrupted for a moment by this interesting reversion to the immediate.  The consciousness which in introspection we treat as an object is, in operation, a cognitive activity:  it demonstrates the world.  You would never yourself have conceived the minds of ethereal vibrations, or of birds, or of ants, or of men suspending their intelligence, if you had known of no men, ants, birds, or ether.  It is the material objects that suggest to you their souls, and teach you how to conceive them.  How then should the souls be substituted for the bodies, and abolish them?

Poor guileless reader!  If philosophers were straightforward men of science, adding each his mite to the general store of knowledge, they would all substantially agree, and while they might make interesting discoveries, they would not herald each his new transformation of the whole universe.  But philosophers are either revolutionists or apologists, and some of them, like M. Bergson, are revolutionists in the interests of apologetics.  Their art is to create some surprising inversion of things, some system of the universe contrary to common apprehension, or to defend some such inverted system, propounded by poets long ago, and perhaps consecrated by religion.  It would not require a great man to say calmly:  Men, birds, even ether-waves, if you will, feel after this and this fashion.  The greatness and the excitement begin when he says:  Your common sense, your practical intellect, your boasted science have entirely deceived you; see what the real truth is instead!  So M. Bergson is bent on telling us that the immediate, as he describes it, is the sole reality; all else is unreal, artificial, and a more or less convenient symbol in discourse—­discourse itself being taken, of course, for a movement in immediate sensibility, which is what it is existentially, but never for an excursion into an independent logical realm, which is what it is spiritually and in intent.  So we must revise all our psychological observations, and turn them into metaphysical dogmas.  It would be nothing to say simply:  For immediate feeling the past is contained in the present, movement is prior to that which moves, spaces are many, disconnected, and incommensurable, events are indivisible wholes, perception is in its object and identical with it, the future is unpredictable, the complex is bred out of the simple, and evolution is creative, its course being obedient to a general tendency or groping impulse,