idence except such as comes to us only through _one_ channel, and
_that_ the circuitous one of a process of reasoning; while, by the
constitution of our nature, we are qualified and privileged to draw it
fresh, in many cases, at its spring and fountain-head. It may be as
impossible for man to prove the trustworthiness of his intellectual
faculties as it is for the bee to prove the truth of its marvellous
instinct; but, in either case, the reason may be that any such proof is
unnecessary, that it is superseded by the laws of Instinct in the one,
and by the laws of Thought in the other, and that by these laws a better
and surer provision is made for our guidance than any that could have
been found in a mere logical faculty,--a natural and irresistible
authority, which the Skeptic may dispute, but cannot destroy, and which,
however disowned in theory, must be practically obeyed.

It must be evident that the _various meanings_ which have been attached
to the term Certitude must materially affect both the statement and
solution of the general problem, and, more particularly, that they must
have an important bearing on the question, whether the doctrine which
affirms the Being, Perfections, and Providence of God, should be ranked
under the head of _certain_, or only of _probable_, truth. If, in making
use of the term Certitude, I mean to denote by it something different
from the certainty which belongs to the most assured convictions of the
human mind, something that arises, not from the spontaneous and direct
exercise of its faculties, but from a process of reflective thought or
philosophical speculation, something, in short, that is peculiar to the
metaphysical inquirer, and is not the common heritage of the race at
large; then, unquestionably, the problem, as thus understood, must leave
out of view many of the surest and most universal beliefs of
mankind,--beliefs which may be illustrated and confirmed by Philosophy,
but which are anterior to it in respect to their origin, and independent
of it in respect of the evidence on which they severally rest. In the
case of Certitude, just as in the case of every similar term expressive
of a simple, elementary idea, the ultimate appeal must be made to
individual consciousness. No one can convey to another a conception of
Certitude by means of words, apart from an experimental sense of it in
the mind of the latter, any more than he could give the idea of color to
the blind or of musi