readers. Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe got itself printed in volumes
which we all can handle, and to any one of which we can refer to
see which of our versions be the true one, i.e., the original one
of Scott himself. We can see the manuscript; in short we can
get back to the Ivanhoe in Scott's mind by many an avenue
and channel of this real world of our experience,--a thing we can by
no means do with either the Ivanhoe or the Rebecca, either the
Templar or the Isaac of York, of the story taken simply as such, and
detached from the conditions of its production. Everywhere, then, we
have the same test: can we pass continuously from two objects in two
minds to a third object which seems to be in BOTH minds, because
each mind feels every modification imprinted on it by the other? If
so, the first two objects named are derivatives, to say the least,
from the same third object, and may be held, if they resemble each
other, to refer to one and the same reality.] The fact that all
these Ivanhoes RESEMBLE each other does not prove the contrary. But
if an alteration invented by one man in his version were to
reverberate immediately through all the other versions, and
produce changes therein, we should then easily agree that all these
thinkers were thinking the SAME Ivanhoe, and that, fiction or no
fiction, it formed a little world common to them all.

Having reached this point, we may take up our thesis and improve it
again. Still calling the reality by the name of q and letting
the critic's feeling vouch for it, we can say that any other feeling
will be held cognizant of q, provided it both resemble q, and refer
to q, as shown by its either modifying q directly, or modifying some
other reality, p or r, which the critic knows to be continuous with
q. Or more shortly, thus: THE FEELING OF q KNOWS WHATEVER REALITY IT
RESEMBLES, AND EITHER DIRECTLY OR INDIRECTLY OPERATES ON. If it