With this I end the first part of my discussion, and I confess I draw a long breath in doing so. When I sat down to write it was with the impression that I could say all that was necessary about the kinds of sameness in a much smaller number of pages; but finding it impossible to avoid misunderstandings without being more explicit and detailed, I have had to change my plan. Now, that I am through, I must confess to myself that most persons will find this hair-splitting anything but entertaining--which would be held by the inconsiderate to furnish a presumption against the truth it contains, if ancient adages go for anything. It should be remembered, however, that the old saw which puts truth in a well does not indicate that the well may not be a dry one. With this consolatory reflection I turn to the second part of my task. PART II. HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL. Those now who propose to hold mutual discussion must needs understand one another somewhat: for without this how can they have any mutual discussion? Each of their words then, must be familiar and have definite meaning, and not many meanings, but one only, and if it have more meanings than one, they must make it clear in which of these senses it is used. Aristotle, Metaph., Book X, c. 5, § 3. SECTION 21. When Heraclitus of Ephesus, moved thereto by his view of the constant flux of things, declared it impossible to enter the same river twice,[30] he evidently supposed that a river can be the same only in the first and strictest sense of the word. He denied, consequently, a right to use the word, as it constantly is used, to indicate that certain phenomena belong to a group or series, which, in its totality, is to us a single object. When we say that we have entered the same river twice we have no reference to the actual experiences of the two occasions considered merely as experiences. Of course, these are not the same, as each is itself, and they may even be somewhat dissimilar. Nor have we reference to the separate particles of which the body of water is composed. We all admit that the water in a river changes, and yet we never think of saying that the river is no longer the same. The two kinds of sameness are quite distinct, yet both are legitimate; and both were as familiar to the ancient Greek as to the modern American. Socrates was considered Socrates from boyhood through youth to manhood. The Ilissus was the Ilissus whether swollen or shrunken. The philosopher's difficulty with the river did not arise out of the fact that this kind of sameness was not perfectly well recognized in language and in common thought. It arose out of the fact that the beginnings of reflection make many things seem strange which before passed unnoticed, and sometimes lead to assertion and denial evidently contrary to experience and common sense. The unreflective man calls the river the same on two successive days, but he has no clear