The need for philosophy is just the ultimate form of the need for
knowledge; and the truths which philosophy brings to light are implied
in every rational explanation of things. The only choice we can have is
between a conscious metaphysics and an unconscious one, between
hypotheses which we have examined and whose limitations we know, and
hypotheses which rule us from behind, as pure prejudices do. It is
because of this that the empiric is so dogmatic, and the ignorant man so
certain of the truth of his opinion. They do not know their postulates,
nor are they aware that there is no interpretation of an object which
does not finally point to a theory of being. We understand no joint or
ligament, except in relation to the whole organism, and no fact, or
event, except by finding a place for it in the context of our
experience. The history of the pebble can be given, only in the light of
the story of the earth, as it is told by the whole of geology. We must
begin very far back, and bring our widest principles to bear upon the
particular thing, if we wish really to know what it is. It is a law that
explains, and laws are always universal. All our knowledge, even the
most broken and inconsistent, streams from some fundamental conception,
in virtue of which all the variety of objects constitute one world, one
orderly kosmos, even to the meanest mind. It is true that the central
thought, be it rich or poor, must, like the sun's light, be broken
against particular facts. But there is no need of forgetting the real
source of knowledge, or of deeming that its progress is a synthesis
without law, or an addition of fact to fact without any guiding
principles.

Now, it is the characteristic of poetry and philosophy that they keep
alive our consciousness of these primary, uniting principles. They
always dwell in the presence of the idea which makes their object _one_.
To them the world is always, and necessarily, a harmonious whole, as it