itted as fact, it says, except what can
be experienced at some definite time by some experient; and for every
feature of fact ever so experienced, a definite place must be found
somewhere in the final system of reality. In other words: Everything
real must be experienceable somewhere, and every kind of thing
experienced must somewhere be real.

Armed with these rules of method let us see what face the problems of
activity present to us.

By the principle of pure experience, either the word 'activity' must
have no meaning at all, or else the original type and model of what it
means must lie in some concrete kind of experience that can be
definitely pointed out. Whatever ulterior judgments we may eventually
come to make regarding activity, _that sort_ of thing will be what the
judgments are about. The first step to take, then, is to ask where in
the stream of experience we seem to find what we speak of as activity.
What we are to think of the activity thus found will be a later
question.

Now it is obvious that we are tempted to affirm activity wherever we
find anything _going on_. Taken in the broadest sense, any apprehension
of something _doing_, is an experience of activity. Were our world
describable only by the words 'nothing happening,' 'nothing changing,'
'nothing doing,' we should unquestionably call it an 'inactive' world.
Bare activity then, as we may call it, means the bare fact of event or
change. 'Change taking place' is a unique content of experience, one of
those 'conjunctive' objects which radical empiricism seeks so earnestly
to rehabilitate and preserve. The sense of activity is thus in the
broadest and vaguest way synonymous with the sense of 'life.' We should
feel our own subjective life at least, even in noticing and proclaiming
an otherwise inactive world. Our own reaction on its monotony would be
the one thing experienced there in the form of something coming to
pass.

This seems to be what certain writers have in mind when they insist that
for an experient to be at all is to be active. It seems to justify, or
at any rate to explain, Mr. Ward's expression that we _are_ only as we
are active,[90] for we _are_ only as experients; and it rules out Mr.
Bradley's contention that "there is no original experience of anything
like activity."[91] What we ought to say about activities thus
elementary, whose they are, what they effect, or whether indeed they
effect anything at all--these are later questio