Now when I say I make my beliefs and that I cannot prove them to you and convince you of them, that does not mean that I make them wantonly and regardless of fact, that I throw them off as a child scribbles on a slate. Mr. Ruskin, if I remember rightly, accused Whistler of throwing a pot of paint in the face of the public,--that was the essence of his libel. The artistic method in this field of beliefs, as in the field of visual renderings, is one of great freedom and initiative and great poverty of test, but of no wantonness; the conditions of rightness are none the less imperative because they are mysterious and indefinable. I adopt certain beliefs because I feel the need for them, because I feel an often quite unanalyzable rightness in them; because the alternative of a chaotic life distresses me. My belief in them rests upon the fact that they WORK for me and satisfy my desire for harmony and beauty. They are arbitrary assumptions, if you will, that I see fit to impose upon my universe. But though they are arbitrary, they are not necessarily individual. Just so far as we all have a common likeness, just so far can we be brought under the same imperatives to think and believe. And though they are arbitrary, each day they stand wear and tear, and each new person they satisfy, is another day and another voice towards showing they do correspond to something that is so far fact and real. This is Pragmatism as I conceive it; the abandonment of infinite assumptions, the extension of the experimental spirit to all human interests. 1.12. SUMMARY. In concluding this first Book let me give a summary of the principal points of what has gone before. I figure the mind of man as an imperfect being obtaining knowledge by imperfect eyesight, imperfect hearing and so forth; who must needs walk manfully and patiently, exercising will and making choices and determining things between the mysteries of external and internal fact. Essentially man’s mind moves within limits depending upon his individual character and experience. These limits constitute what Herbart called his “circle of thought,” and they differ for everyone. That briefly is what I consider to be the case with my own mind, and I believe it is the case with everyone’s. Most minds, it seems to me, are similar, but none are absolutely alike in character or in contents. We are all biassed to ignore our mental imperfections and to talk and act as though our minds were exact instruments,--something wherewith to scale the heavens with assurance,--and also we are biassed to believe that, except for perversity, all our minds work exactly alike. Man, thinking man, suffers from intellectual over-confidence and a vain belief in the universal validity of reasoning. We all need training, training in the balanced attitude. Of everything we need to say: this is true but it is not quite true.