as positive, the “this” is not exclusive at all. The “this” is inconsistent always, but, so far as it excludes, so far already has it begun internally to suffer dissipation. We may now, with advantage perhaps, view the matter in a somewhat different way. There is, I think, a vague notion that some content sticks irremovably within the “this,” or that in the “this,” again, there is something which is not content at all. In either case an element is offered, which, it is alleged, cannot be absorbed by the Whole. And an examination of these prejudices may throw some light on our general view.
In the “this,” it may appear first, there is something more than content. For by combining qualities indefinitely we seem unable to arrive at the “this.” The same difficulty may be stated perhaps in a way which points to its solution. The “this” on one hand, we may say, is nothing at all beside content, and, on the other hand, the “this” is not content at all. For in the term “content” there lies an ambiguity. It may mean a “what” that is, or again, is not, distinct from its “that.” And the “this,” we have already seen, has inconsistent aspects. It offers, from one aspect, an immediate undivided experience, a whole in which “that” and “what” are felt as one. And here content, as implying distinction, will be absent from the “this.” But such an undivided feeling, we have also seen, is a positive experience. It does not even attempt to resist assimilation by our Absolute.
If, on the other hand, we use content generally, and if we employ it in the sense of “what” without distinction from “that”—if we take it to mean something which is experienced, and which is nothing but experience—then, most emphatically, the “this” is not anything but content. For there is nothing in it or about it which can be more than experience. And in it there is further no feature which cannot be made a quality. Its various aspects can all be
