LANGUAGE AND SCIENCE 215

continuous and uninterrupted course of action is often not

really such, but only seems to be so on account of our organi-

zation our very limited power of vision.

Let us suppose an action to take place at precisely such a

rate as to permit of our seeing its steps separated from each

other by just appreciable intervals ; then we have but to

suppose the period needed for our nervous activity to be

slightly increased, and it would necessarily follow we could

no longer perceive the intervals, and the supposed action

would seem to be continuous. Next let us suppose that

an action, which is really interrupted, takes place so

quickly that we cannot perceive the intervals ; \ve have but

to imagine our nervous activity accelerated to a sufficient

degree and the intervals would be plainly perceptible to us.

Absolute interruptions and new departures take place

every day in nature. Such, for example, take place at every

junction of the ultimate sexual elements in impregnation and

in the final separation of the embryo from the parent at

birth.

Because we cannot imagine the origin of an intellectual

nature or any other origin, no argument thence arises against

such breaches of continuity such new departures. We

cannot imagine them, simply because we cannot see, feel,

or in any way sensuously cognize them. We cannot

perceive them, as we cannot perceive the ultimate con-

stitution of matter, because we have not been provided

with the organs necessary to minister to such perception.

As Professor Miers once remarked to us, we cannot perceive

them any more than we can distinguish colours by listening,

however attentively, with our ears.

But however impotent may be our imagination, our reason

assures us that wherever a distinction of kind exists, there

must also be a breach of continuity and a new departure.

For a " nature " or a " kind of existence " does not admit of

continuous and uninterrupted course of action is often not

really such, but only seems to be so on account of our organi-

zation our very limited power of vision.

Let us suppose an action to take place at precisely such a

rate as to permit of our seeing its steps separated from each

other by just appreciable intervals ; then we have but to

suppose the period needed for our nervous activity to be

slightly increased, and it would necessarily follow we could

no longer perceive the intervals, and the supposed action

would seem to be continuous. Next let us suppose that

an action, which is really interrupted, takes place so

quickly that we cannot perceive the intervals ; \ve have but

to imagine our nervous activity accelerated to a sufficient

degree and the intervals would be plainly perceptible to us.

Absolute interruptions and new departures take place

every day in nature. Such, for example, take place at every

junction of the ultimate sexual elements in impregnation and

in the final separation of the embryo from the parent at

birth.

Because we cannot imagine the origin of an intellectual

nature or any other origin, no argument thence arises against

such breaches of continuity such new departures. We

cannot imagine them, simply because we cannot see, feel,

or in any way sensuously cognize them. We cannot

perceive them, as we cannot perceive the ultimate con-

stitution of matter, because we have not been provided

with the organs necessary to minister to such perception.

As Professor Miers once remarked to us, we cannot perceive

them any more than we can distinguish colours by listening,

however attentively, with our ears.

But however impotent may be our imagination, our reason

assures us that wherever a distinction of kind exists, there

must also be a breach of continuity and a new departure.

For a " nature " or a " kind of existence " does not admit of