ked by philosophy, and variously answered by various philosophers.
But it would seem that, whether answers be otherwise discoverable or
not, the answers suggested by philosophy are none of them demonstrably
true. Yet, however slight may be the hope of discovering an answer, it
is part of the business of philosophy to continue the consideration of
such questions, to make us aware of their importance, to examine all the
approaches to them, and to keep alive that speculative interest in the
universe which is apt to be killed by confining ourselves to definitely
ascertainable knowledge.

Many philosophers, it is true, have held that philosophy could establish
the truth of certain answers to such fundamental questions. They have
supposed that what is of most importance in religious beliefs could be
proved by strict demonstration to be true. In order to judge of such
attempts, it is necessary to take a survey of human knowledge, and to
form an opinion as to its methods and its limitations. On such a subject
it would be unwise to pronounce dogmatically; but if the investigations
of our previous chapters have not led us astray, we shall be compelled
to renounce the hope of finding philosophical proofs of religious
beliefs. We cannot, therefore, include as part of the value of
philosophy any definite set of answers to such questions. Hence, once
more, the value of philosophy must not depend upon any supposed body of
definitely ascertainable knowledge to be acquired by those who study it.

The value of philosophy is, in fact, to be sought largely in its very
uncertainty. The man who has no tincture of philosophy goes through
life imprisoned in the prejudices derived from common sense, from the
habitual beliefs of his age or his nation, and from convictions which
have grown up in his mind without the co-operation or consent of his
deliberate reason. To such a man the world tends to become definite,
finite, obvious; common objects rouse no questions, and unfamiliar
possibilities are contemptuously rejected. As soon as we begin to
philosophize, on the contrary, we find, as we saw in our opening
chapters, that even the most everyday things lead to problems to which
only very incomplete answers can be given. Philosophy, though unable to
tell us with certainty what is the true answer to the doubts which it
raises, is able to suggest many possibilities which enlarge our thoughts
and free them from the tyranny of custom. Thus, while dimi