ought
and beyond the limit of our sensation.

Since it does this, since it sinks away beyond the limit of our
thought, it must be regarded as "something" whose reality is partly
known and partly unknown. Thus it is true to say that the
"substratum" of the soul _is_ and _is not_ a portion of the
objective universe. The substratum of the soul is, in fact, the
essential and ultimate reality, where all that we know loses itself in
all that we do not know. Because we are compelled to admit that
only one aspect of the "substratum" of the soul is a portion of the
objective universe as we know it, this does not justify us in
asserting that the "substratum" of the soul is at once within space
and time and outside of space and time.

Nothing is outside of space and time. This conception of "outside"
is, as we have seen, an abstraction evoked by the isolated activity
of the logical reason. The fact that only one aspect of the
"substratum" of the soul--and even that one with the barest limit of
definition--can be regarded as a portion of the objective universe
does not give the soul any advantage over the universe. For the
universe, like the soul, has also its unfathomable depths. That
indefinable medium, for instance, which we are compelled to think
of as making it possible that various souls should touch one
another and communicate with one another, is in precisely the
same position as regards any ultimate analysis as is the soul itself.
It also sinks away into unfathomableness. It also becomes a
portion of that part of reality which we do _not_ know.

At this point in our enquiry it is not difficult to imagine some
materialistic objector asking the question how we can conceive
such a vaguely denned entity as the soul possessing such very
definite attributes as those which make up the complex vision.

Is it not, such an one might ask, a fantastic and ridiculous
assumption to endow so obscure a thing as this "soul" with such
very definite powers as reason, instinct, will, intuition,
imagination, and the rest? Surely, such an one might protest, it is
in the physical body that these find their unity? Surely, if we must
have a meeting-place where thought and the objects of thought
lose themselves in one another, such a meeting-place can be
nothing else than the cells of the brain?

The answer to this objection seems to me quite a final one. The
physical body cannot supply us with the true meeting-place
between "the life of th