mathematical laws, physical hypotheses, religious beliefs, and ethical
postulates. Hence such pragmatic aphorisms as 'truth is useful' or
'truth is a matter of practical consequences' mean essentially that all
assertions must be _tested by being applied to a real problem of
knowing._ What is signified by such statements is that no 'truth' must
be accepted merely on account of the insistence of its claim, but that
every idea must be tested by the consequences of its working. Its truth
will then depend upon those consequences being fruitful for life in
general, and in particular for the purpose behind the particular inquiry
in which it arose. Truth is a _value_ and a satisfaction; but
'intellectual satisfaction' is not a morbid delight in dialectical and
verbal juggling: it is the satisfaction which rewards the hard labour of
rationalizing experience and rendering it more conformable with human
desires.

It should be clear, though it is often misunderstood, that there is
nothing arbitrary or 'subjective' in this method of testing beliefs. It
does not mean that we are free to assert the truth of every idea which
seems to us pretty or pleasant. The very term 'useful' was chosen by
pragmatists as a protest against the common philosophic licence of
alleging 'truths' which could never be applied or tested, and were
supposed to be none the worse for being 'useless.' It is clear both that
such 'truths' must be a monopoly of Intellectualism, and also that they
do allow every man to believe whatever he wishes, provided only that he
boldly claims 'self-evidence' for his idiosyncrasy. In this purely
subjective sense, into which Intellectualism is driven, it is, however,
clear that there can be no useless ideas. For any idea anyone decided to
adopt, because it pleased or amused him, would be _ipso facto_ true.
Pragmatism, therefore, by refuting 'useless' knowledge, shows that it
does _not_ admit such merely subjective 'uses.' It insists that ideas