earance as it stands made a thinkable or a
practical universe.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote B: The term "matter" (which ought before long to reappear in
philosophy) has two meanings. In popular science and theology it
commonly means a group of things in space, like the atoms of Democritus
or the human body and its members. Such matter plainly exists. Its
particles are concretions in existence like the planets; and if a given
hypothesis describing them turns out to be wrong, it is wrong only
because this matter exists so truly and in such discoverable guise that
the hypothesis in question may be shown to misrepresent its
constitution.

On the other hand, in Aristotle and in literary speech, matter means
something good to make other things out of. Here it is a concretion in
discourse, a dialectical term; being only an aspect or constituent of
every existence, it cannot exist by itself. A state of mind, like
everything not purely formal, has matter of this sort in it. Actual
love, for instance, differs _materially_ from the mere idea or
possibility of love, which is all love would be if the matter or body of
it were removed. This matter is what idealists, bent on giving it a
grander name, call pure feeling, absolute consciousness, or metaphysical
will. These phrases are all used improperly to stand for the existence
or presence of things apart from their character, or for the mere strain
and dead weight of being. Matter is a far better term to use in the
premises, for it suggests the method as well as the fact of brute
existence. The surd in experience--its non-ideal element--is not an
indifferent vehicle for what it brings, as would be implied by calling
it pure feeling or absolute consciousness. Nor is it an act accepting or
rejecting objects, as would be implied by calling it will. In truth, the
surd conditions not merely the being of objects but their possible
quantity, the time and place of their appearance, and their degree of
perfection compared with the ideals they suggest. These important
factors in whatever exists are covered by the term matter and give it a
serious and indispensable role in describing and feeling the world.

Aristotle, it may be added, did not adhere with perfect consistency to
the dialectical use of this word. Matter is sometimes used by him for
substance or for actual beings having both matter and form. The excuse
for this apparent lapse is, of course, that what taken by itself is a
piece of fo