Prag.:—­It seems to me that what the knowledge knows is the fact itself, the event, or whatever the reality may be.  Where you see three distinct entities in the field, the reality, the knowing, and the truth, I see only two.  Moreover, I can see what each of my two entities is known-as, but when I ask myself what your third entity, the truth, is known-as, I can find nothing distinct from the reality on the one hand, and the ways in which it may be known on the other.  Are you not probably misled by common language, which has found it convenient to introduce a hybrid name, meaning sometimes a kind of knowing and sometimes a reality known, to apply to either of these things interchangeably?  And has philosophy anything to gain by perpetuating and consecrating the ambiguity?  If you call the object of knowledge ‘reality,’ and call the manner of its being cognized ‘truth,’ cognized moreover on particular occasions, and variously, by particular human beings who have their various businesses with it, and if you hold consistently to this nomenclature, it seems to me that you escape all sorts of trouble.

Anti-Prag.:—­Do you mean that you think you escape from my dilemma?

Prag.:—­Assuredly I escape; for if truth and knowledge are terms correlative and interdependent, as I maintain they are, then wherever knowledge is conceivable truth is conceivable, wherever knowledge is possible truth is possible, wherever knowledge is actual truth is actual.  Therefore when you point your first horn at me, I think of truth actual, and say it doesn’t exist.  It doesn’t; for by hypothesis there is no knower, no ideas, no workings.  I agree, however, that truth possible or virtual might exist, for a knower might possibly be brought to birth; and truth conceivable certainly exists, for, abstractly taken, there is nothing in the nature of antediluvian events that should make the application of knowledge to them inconceivable.  Therefore when you try to impale me on your second horn, I think of the truth in question as a mere abstract possibility, so I say it does exist, and side with common sense.

Do not these distinctions rightly relieve me from embarrassment?  And don’t you think it might help you to make them yourself?

Anti-Prag.:—­Never!—­so avaunt with your abominable hair-splitting and sophistry!  Truth is truth; and never will I degrade it by identifying it with low pragmatic particulars in the way you propose.

Prag.:—­Well, my dear antagonist, I hardly hoped to convert an eminent intellectualist and logician like you; so enjoy, as long as you live, your own ineffable conception.  Perhaps the rising generation will grow up more accustomed than you are to that concrete and empirical interpretation of terms in which the pragmatic method consists.  Perhaps they may then wonder how so harmless and natural an account of truth as mine could have found such difficulty in entering the minds of men far more intelligent than I can ever hope to become, but wedded by education and tradition to the abstractionist manner of thought.