ction upon the obscure beginnings of thought,
with a view to shedding light upon its spontaneous virgin condition,
but without any vain claim to lift it out of the current in which it is
actually plunged.
One conclusion is already plain: the groundwork of common-sense is sure,
but the form is suspicious.
In common-sense is contained, at any rate virtually and in embryo, all
that can ever be attained of reality, for reality is verification, not
construction.
Everything has its starting-point in construction and verification. Thus
philosophical research can only be a conscious and deliberate return to
the facts of primal intuition. But common-sense, being prepossessed in a
practical direction, has doubtless subjected these facts to a process of
interested alteration, which is artificial in proportion to the labour
bestowed. Such is Mr Bergson's fundamental hypothesis, and it is
far-reaching. "Many metaphysical difficulties probably arise from our
habit of confounding speculation and practice; or of pushing an idea
in the direction of utility, when we think we fathom it in theory;
or, lastly, of employing in thought the forms of action." (Preface to
"Matter and Memory". First edition.)
The work of reform will consist therefore in freeing our intelligence
from its utilitarian habits, by endeavouring at the outset to become
clearly conscious of them.
Notice how far presumption is in favour of our hypothesis. Whether we
regard organic life in the genesis and preservation of the individual,
or in the evolution of species, we see its natural direction to be
towards utility: but the effort of thought comes after the effort of
life; it is not added from outside, it is the continuance and the flower
of the former effort. Must we not expect from this that it will preserve
its former habits? And what do we actually observe? The first gleam
of human intelligence in prehistoric times is revealed to us by an
industry; the cut flint of the primitive caves marks the first stage
of the road which was one day to end in the most sublime philosophies.
Again, every science has begun by practical arts. Indeed, our science of
today, however disinterested it may have become, remains none the less
in close relation with the demands of our action; it permits us to speak
of and to handle things rather than to see them in their intimate and
profound nature. Analysis, when applied to our operations of knowledge,
shows us that our understan
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