generally united by the common view that—as
William James accused them of teaching—the
function of sensation in contributing to knowledge,
whatever it is, is something ‘contemptible’.
Kant himself, as we have seen, had thought very differently,
but he was supposed to have been ‘corrected’
on this, as on so many points, by Hegel. The
most distinguished of my own Oxford teachers seemed
agreed to believe that our thought builds up the fabric
of knowledge entirely from within by what Hegel called
an ‘immanent dialectic’. A rough idea
of what this means may be given in the following way.
You take any experience you please and try to put
what you experience into a proposition. The proposition
may, to begin with, be as vague as, e.g.
’I am now feeling something,’ ‘I
am now aware of something.’ On reflection
you find that the statement does not do justice to
the experience. You feel the need to say more
precisely what you are feeling or are aware
of, how it is related to what you experience on other
occasions, and what the ‘I’ is which is
said to ‘have’ the experience. Until
you have done this your thought is a miserable reproduction
of your experience, and if you could ever do it completely,
it would turn out that a really adequate account of
the most trivial experience would involve complete
knowledge of the structure and working of everything.
Thus, if you once begin to think about your experience
at all, you are irresistibly driven on to endless
further reflection. If you try to stop short anywhere
in the process, the results of your reflection are
found to contain unexplained contradictions, just
because you have not yet fitted on the fact on which
you are reflecting to everything else there is to know.
All the assumptions of every-day ‘common sense’
and all the more recondite assumptions of the sciences
are saturated with these contradictions, because both
‘common sense’ and the sciences leave so
much of the whole ‘story of everything’
untouched. If the whole story were told, all
things would be found to be just one thing, which these
philosophers call the ‘Absolute’, and the
only perfectly true statement we can make would be
a statement about this Absolute in which we asserted
of it all that it is. Since no science ever attempts
to say anything at all about this one sole thing,
far less to get all there might be to be said about
it into a single statement, no scientific proposition
can be more than ‘partially’ true, and
unhappily we do not know what alterations would
be required to make our ‘partial’ truths
quite true. Naturally enough Kant’s allegation
that mathematical first principles are so self-contradictory
that you can rigidly demonstrate mathematical propositions
which contradict each other was grist to the Hegelian
mill. That our notions of space, time, the infinitely
great, the infinitely little, are all a jumble of
contradictions was steadily repeated by the Hegelian
philosophers, and indeed the mathematicians were accustomed
to state their own principles so loosely and confusedly
that there was a great deal of excuse for the suspicion
that the fault lay with Mathematics and not with the
mathematicians.


