CHAP. L] THE STAKTING-POINT. ^3 



is not truth, then there is no truth at all for us, and we 

 must full into &quot; absolute scepticism,&quot; where all intellectual 

 conflict becomes an absurdity. If we may make any affirma 

 tion whatever, it is the affirmation of our own existence, 

 and yet that cannot be made without accepting the trust 

 worthiness of memory. But what do we not admit in 

 admitting so much ? 



It is in vain that we try to get rid of the mysterious. Mr. 

 Herbert Spencer himself is quite unable to get rid of &quot; mys 

 tery.&quot; He says,* there is &quot; a warrant higher than that which 

 any argument can give, for asserting an objective existence. 

 Mysterious as seems the consciousness of something which is 

 yet out of consciousness, he finds that he alleges the reality 

 of this something in virtue of the ultimate law he is obliged 

 to think it.&quot; 



Speaking on this subject, Professor Huxley has fallen into 

 one of the strangest fallacies it has been our lot to A curious 

 encounter. He says f that the &quot;general trustworthi 

 ness of memory &quot; and &quot; the general constancy of the order of 

 nature &quot; &quot; are of the highest practical value, inasmuch as the 

 conclusions logically drawn from them are always verified ~by 

 experience /&quot; As if experience itself was possible, unless 

 memory could be relied on as trustworthy. My &quot; experience &quot; 

 would be of little value to me if I could not be certain it was 

 mine, and not that of somebody else. As to this fallacy, a 

 writer in the Dublin Keview observes : t 



&quot; To this singular piece of reasoning we put forth (p. 46) an obvious 

 reply. You tell us that you trust your present act of memory, because 

 in innumerable past instances the avouchments of memory have been 

 true. How do you know how can you even guess that there has 

 been one such instance? Because you trust your present act of 

 memory ; no other answer can possibly be given. Never was there so 

 audacious an instance of arguing in a circle. You know forsooth that 

 your present act of memory can be trusted, because in innumerable 

 past instances the avouchment of memory has been true; and you 



* Essays (stereotyped edition), vol. ii. p. 407. 

 t Lay Sermons, p. 359, 



j See in Dublin Keview, July 1873, the article on Mr. Mill s ruply to the 

 Dublin Review. 



