everybody takes for granted often the most deserve examination.
To the peasant, who thinks the moon no bigger than a plough-wheel, it never occurs that, while at a distance of some miles, an entire church has the appearance of a mere point, the moon on the contrary always remains the same size. What prevents this combination of ideas in him, for singly the man has them all? In the ordinary run of events he does connect ideas, perhaps even with more elaborate links than we. This consideration should put philosophers on the qui vive; for in certain combinations of thought they too may not be beyond the peasant stage. We think early enough, but we are not conscious of thinking, any more than we are conscious of growing or digesting; nay, among the common people many never come to realize the fact. The detailed observation of things around us leads by an easy transition back to the point of observation, that is, to ourselves; and conversely, he who once properly becomes conscious of himself is easily led to the contemplation of the world about him. To keep one’s wits about one, to experience nothing in vain, to gauge and compare—that is the whole law of philosophy.
We are conscious of certain impressions which are involuntary ; others—at least, so we believe—depend on ourselves; where is the boundary line? We know of nothing but the existence of our impressions, feelings and thoughts. It thinks, we ought really
