and so on indefinitely.  It is true that we say there must be something else, viz., the actual passing across the interval which separates those positions.  But such a conception of Change is quite false.  All true change or movement is indivisible.  We, by constructing fictitious states and trying to compose movement out of them, endeavour to make a process coincide with a thing—­a movement with an immobility.  This is the way to arrive at dilemmas, antinomies, and blind-alleys of thought.  The puzzles of Zeno about “Achilles and the Tortoise” and “The Moving Arrow” are classical examples of the error involved in treating movement as divisible.[Footnote:  Bergson in Matter and Memory examines Zeno’s four puzzles:  “The Dichotomy,” “Achilles and the Tortoise,” “The Arrow” and “The Stadium.”] If movement is not everything, it is nothing, and if we postulate, to begin with, that the motionless is real, then we shall be incapable of grasping reality.  The philosophies of Plato, of Aristotle, and of Plotinus were developed from the thesis that there is more in the immutable than in the moving, and that it is by way of diminution that we pass from the stable to the unstable.

The main reason why it is such a difficult matter for us to grasp the reality of continuous change is owing to the limitations of our intellectual nature.  “We are made in order to act, as much as and more than in order to think—­or, rather, when we follow the bent of our nature, it is in order to act that we think."[Footnote:  Creative Evolution, p. 313 (Fr. p. 321).] Intellect is always trying to carve out for itself stable forms because it is primarily fitted for action, and “is characterized by a natural inability to comprehend life” and grasp Change.[Footnote:  Creative Evolution, p. 174 (Fr. p. 179).] Our intellect loves the solid and the static, but life itself is not static--it is dynamic.  We might say that the intellect takes views across the ever-moving scene, snapshots of reality.  It acts like the camera of the cinematograph operator, which is capable only of producing photographs, successive and static, in a series upon a ribbon.  To grasp reality, we have to do what the cinematograph does with the film—­that is, introduce or rather, re-introduce movement.[Footnote:  Creative Evolution, pp. 320- 324 (Fr. pp. 328-332).] The stiff photograph is an abstraction bereft of movement, so, too, our intellectual views of the world and of our own nature are static instead of being dynamic.  Human life is not made up of childhood, adolescence, manhood, and old age as “states,” although we tend to speak of it in this way.  Life is not a thing, nor the state of a thing—­it is a continuous movement or change.  The soul itself is a movement, not an entity.  In the physical world, light, when examined, proves itself to be a movement.  Even physical science, bound, as it would seem, to assert the fixity and rigidity of matter, is now of the opinion that matter is not the solid thing we are apt to think