the surface or the edges of objects without ever encountering a true interruption. How do we parcel out the continuity of material extensity, given in primary perception, into bodies of which each is supposed to have its substance and individuality? No doubt the aspect of this continuity changes from moment to moment; but why do we not purely and simply realize that the whole has changed, as with the turning of a kaleidoscope? Why, in short, do we seek, in the mobility of the whole, tracks that are supposed to be followed by bodies supposed to be in motion? A moving continuity is given to us, in which everything changes and yet remains: whence comes it that we dissociate the two terms, permanence and change, and then represent permanence by bodies and change by homogeneous movements in space? This is no teaching of immediate intuition; but neither is it a demand of science, for the object of science is, on the contrary, to rediscover the natural articulations of a universe we have carved artificially. Nay more, science, as we shall see, by an evermore complete demonstration of the reciprocal action of all material points upon each other, returns, in spite of appearances, to the idea of an universal continuity. Science and consciousness are agreed at bottom, provided that we regard consciousness in its most immediate data, and science in its remotest aspirations. Whence comes then the irresistible tendency to set up a material universe that is discontinuous, composed
