View, we shall surely be still less inclined to

dogmatism. For that which we see may be combined in an

organic unity with the invisible; and, again, one and

the same element might have a position and function in

any number of organisms. But there is no advantage in

trying to fill the unknown with our fancies. It should

be clear, when we reflect, that we are in no

condition on this point to fix a limit to the

possible.

Arrangements, apparently quite different from our own,

and expressing themselves in what seems a wholly unlike

way, might be directly connected with finite centres of

feeling. And our result here must be this, that, except

in relation to our ignorance, we cannot call the least

portion of Nature inorganic. For some practical

purposes, of course, the case is radically altered. We

of course there have a perfect right to act upon

ignorance. We not only may, but even must, often treat

the unseen as non-existent. But in metaphysics such an

attitude cannot be justified. We, on one side, have

positive knowledge that some parts of Nature are

organisms; but whether, upon the other side, anything

inorganic exists or not, we have no means of judging.

Hence to give an answer to our question is impossible.

But this inability seems a matter of no importance.

For finite organisms, as we have seen, are but

phenomenal appearance, and both their division and their

unity is transcended in the Absolute. And assuredly the

inorganic, if it exists, will be still more unreal. It

will, in any case, not merely be bound in relation with

organisms, but will, together with them, be included in

a single and all-absorbing experience. It will become a

feature and an element in that Whole where no diversity

is lost, but where the oneness is something much more

than organic. And with this I will pass on to a further

inquiry.

We have seen that beyond experience nothing can

exist, and hence no part of Nature can fall outside of

the Absolute's perfection. But the question as to the

necessity of experience may still be raised in

a modified sense. Is there any Nature not experienced by

a finite subject? Can we suppose in the Absolute a

margin of physical qualities, which, so to speak, do not

pass through some finite percipient? Of course, if this

is so, we cannot perceive them. But the question is

whether, notwithstanding, we may, or even must, suppose

that such a margin exists. (a) Is a physical fact, which

is not for some finite sentient being, a thing which is

possible? And (b), in the next place, have we sufficient

ground to take it also as real?

(a) In defence, first, of its possibility there is

something to be said. "Admitted," we shall be told,

"that relation to a finite soul is the condition under

which Nature appears to us, it does not follow that this

condition is indispensable. To assert that those very

qualities, which we meet under certain conditions, can

exist apart from them, is perhaps going too far. But, on

the other side, some qualities of the sort we call

sensible might not require (so to speak) to be developed

on or filtered through a particular soul. These

qualities in the end, like all the rest, would

certainly, as such, be absorbed in the Absolute; but

they (so to speak) might find their way to this end by

themselves, and might not require the mediation of a

finite sentience." But this defence, it seems to me, is