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In the greenest of our valleys, By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace Radiant palace reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair.
It was the attempt to combine the nominalist view of the signification of general terms with the retention of the dictum as the basis of all reasoning, that led to the self-contradictory theories disguised under the ultra-nominalism of Hobbes and Condillac, the ontology of the later Kantians, and (in a less degree) the abstract ideas of Locke. It was fancied that the process of inferring new truths was only the substitution of one arbitrary sign for another; and Condillac even described science as une langue bien faite. But language merely enables us to remember and impart our thoughts; it strengthens, like an artificial memory, our power of thought, and is thought's powerful instrument, but not its exclusive subject. If, indeed, propositions in a syllogism did nothing but refer something to or exclude it from a class, then certainly syllogisms might have the dictum for their basis, and import only that the classification is consistent with itself. But such is not the primary object of propositions (and it is on this account, as well as because men will never be persuaded in common discourse to quantify the predicate, that Mr. De Morgan's or Sir William Hamilton's quantification of the predicate is a device of little value). What is asserted in every proposition which conveys real knowledge, is a fact dependent, not on artificial classification, but on the laws of nature; and as ratiocination is a mode of gaining real knowledge, the principle or law of all syllogisms, with propositions not purely verbal, must be, for affirmative syllogisms, that; Things coexisting with the same thing coexist with one another; and for negative, that; A thing coexisting with another, with which a third thing does not coexist, does not coexist with that third thing. But if (see supr
Primarily, and on the common-sense level, the truth of a state of mind means this function of A LEADING THAT IS WORTH WHILE. When a moment in our experience, of any kind whatever, inspires us with a thought that is true, that means that sooner or later we dip by that thought's guidance into the particulars of experience again and make advantageous connexion with them.
The thought's too glorious!" Undine lingered in his arms, not with any intent of tenderness, but as if too deeply lost in a new train of thought to be conscious of his hold. "I suppose most of the things COULD be got ready sooner if I said they MUST," she brooded, with a fixed gaze that travelled past him. "And the rest why shouldn't the rest be sent over to Europe after us?
"Taketh every form of air, And every shape of earth, And comes unbidden everywhere, Like thought's mysterious birth," would pop his little curly head up between one or more pairs of Teacups. If you will stop these questions, then, I will go on with my reports of what was said and done at our meetings over the teacups.
The verses, which were entitled "The Haunted Palace," ran very nearly, if not accurately, thus: I. In the greenest of our valleys, By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace Radiant palace reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair.
"Thought's a fool, and you're another! You haven't seen me. If anybody in Belfast asks you if you have seen me, tell 'em you haven't." "If the tongue isn't to talk with, it isn't to tell a lie with," added Donald. "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the captain; "you've got me there." He produced his wallet again, and took a ten-dollar bill from the roll it contained, which he tendered to Donald.
"One envies men like you who build railways and sail ships," she said, and now Lister wondered where she led. "You live a natural life, knowing bodily strain and primitive emotions. Sometimes you're exhausted and sometimes afraid. Your thought's fixed on the struggle; you're keenly occupied. Isn't it like that?" "Something like that," Lister agreed. "Sometimes the strain gets monotonous."
As Faulkner put it, Anderson's "was the fumbling for exactitude, the exact word and phrase within the limited scope of a vocabulary controlled and even repressed by what was in him almost a fetish of simplicity ... to seek always to penetrate to thought's uttermost end."
When the rays of the morning seem slow in their beaming, Overpowered the firm Right most tremendous bold Wrong, Let not thy Thought's eye grow the dimmer for streaming, Pour thy tears in Faith's bosom thou yet wilt BE STRONG. "I never was a favourite; My mother never smiled On me with half the tenderness That blessed her fairer child."
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