Is the world of experience and knowledge--in every sense

without reality. The other is the kingdom of reality--

without either knowledge or experience. Or we

have on one side phenomena, in other words, things as

they are to us, and ourselves so far as we are anything

to ourselves; while on the other side are Things as they

are in themselves and as they do not appear; or, if we

please, we may call this side the Unknowable. And our

attitude towards such a divided universe varies a good

deal. We may be thankful to be rid of that which is not

relative to our affairs, and which cannot in any way

concern us; and we may be glad that the worthless is

thrown over the wall. Or we may regret that Reality is

too good to be known, and from the midst of our own

confusion may revere the other side in its inaccessible

grandeur. We may even naively felicitate ourselves on

total estrangement, and rejoice that at last utter

ignorance has removed every scruple which impeded

religion. Where we know nothing we can have no possible

objection to worship.

This view is popular, and to some extent is even

plausible. It is natural to feel that the best and the

highest is unknowable, in the sense of being something

which our knowledge cannot master. And this is probably

all that for most minds the doctrine signifies. But of

course this is not what it says, nor what it means, when

it has any definite meaning. For it does not teach that

our knowledge of reality is imperfect; it asserts that

it does not exist, and that we have no knowledge at all,

however imperfect. There is a hard and fast line, with

our apprehension on the one side and the Thing on the

other side, and the two hopelessly apart. This is the

doctrine, and its plausibility vanishes before

criticism.

Its absurdity may be shown in several ways.

The Unknowable must, of course, be prepared either to

deserve its name or not. But, if it actually were not

knowable, we could not know that such a thing even

existed. It would be much as if we said, "Since all my

faculties are totally confined to my garden, I cannot

tell if the roses next door are in flower." And this

seems inconsistent. And we may push the line of attack

which we mentioned in the last chapter. If the theory

really were true, then it must be impossible. There is

no reconciling our knowledge of its truth with that

general condition which exists if it is true. But I

propose to adopt another way of criticism, which perhaps

may be plainer.

I will first make a remark as to the plurality

involved in Things in themselves. If this is meant, then

within their secluded world we have a long series of

problems. Their diversity and their relations bring us

back to those very difficulties which we were

endeavouring to avoid. And it seems clear that, if we

wish to be consistent, the plural must be dropped. Hence

in future we shall confine ourselves to the Thing in

itself.

We have got this reality on one side and our

appearances on the other, and we are naturally led to

enquire about their connection. Are they related, the

one to the other, or not? If they are related, and if in

any way the appearances are made the adjectives of

reality, then the Thing has become qualified by them. It

is qualified, but on what principle? That is what we do

not know. We have in effect every unsolved problem which

vexed us before; and we have, besides, this whole

confusion now predicated of the Thing, no longer,

therefore, something by itself. But this perplexed

attribution was precisely that which the doctrine

intended to avoid. We must therefore deny any relation

of our appearances to the Thing. But, if so,

other troubles vex us. Either our Thing has qualities,

or it has not. If it has them, then within itself the

same puzzles break out which we intended to leave

behind,--to make a prey of phenomena and to rest

contented with their ruin. So we must correct ourselves

and assert that the Thing is unqualified. But, if so, we

are destroyed with no less certainty. For a Thing

without qualities is clearly not real. It is mere Being,

or mere No-thing, according as you take it simply for

what it is, or consider also that which it means to be.

Such an abstraction is palpably of no use to us.

And, if we regard the situation from the side of

phenomena, it is not more encouraging. We must take

appearances in connection with reality, or not. In the

former case, they are not rendered one whit less

confused. They offer precisely the old jungle in which

no way could be found, and which is not cleared by mere

attribution to a Thing in itself. But, if we deny the

connection of phenomena with the Real, our condition is

not improved. Either we possess now two realms of

confusion and disorder, existing side by side, or the

one above the other. And, in this case, the "other

world" of the Thing in itself only serves to reduplicate

all that troubles us here. Or, on the other hand, if we

suppose the Thing to be unqualified, it still gives us

no assistance. Everything in our concrete world remains

the same, and the separate existence somewhere of this

wretched abstraction serves us only as a poor and