world. We happen to know, or at all events to
believe that we know, concerning what our experience
reveals and our science analyses, viz., concerning
the so-called physical world, so much, that we can
actually prove the inadequacy of our current
sensations to reveal directly, or to present to us, physical
truths that our science otherwise, and more indirectly,
well makes out. The relatively indirect experience
of science can and does correct the existent
and unconquerable momentary ignorance of our
senses. Indirect insight proves to be better, in some
ways, than immediate feeling. To use Professor
James’s more familiar terminology, we declare that
we know about the physical world more than we can
ever grasp by direct acquaintance with our sensations.
And so, now, it is because we are supposed
to know these things about the so-called reality, that
we are aware of the limitations of our passing
experiences. Thus viewed, the present statement of our
limitations appears to be merely a correction of our
narrower experience by the organised experience of
our race and of our science. It tells us that we are
ignorant, in one region of our experience, of what a
wider experience, indirectly acquired, reveals to us.
The physiology of the senses, then, rightly viewed, does not assert that all our human experience is vainly subjective, including the very type of experience upon which the sciences themselves are founded. What science says is simply that there is a sort of indirect and organised experience which reveals more of phenomenal truth than can ever be revealed to our direct sensory states as these pass by. But our popu-