or kind of minds, but which is not or may not be true for another mind, or for another kind of minds. All sensible truth is or may be of this character; indeed, all truth which the physical organism is instrumental in bringing before the mind is merely relative. It is merely relative, because with a different organism a different truth would be presented to the mind. This may be readily understood without much illustration. If our eyes were constructed like microscopes, the world would present to us an aspect very different from that which it now wears; if they were formed like telescopes, the spectacle of the starry heavens would be wonderfully changed. If the sensibility of our retina were either increased or diminished, the whole order of colours would undergo a corresponding variation. So, too, in regard to sounds and tastes: alter the organism on which these depend, and what was once true in regard to them would be true no longer; the thunder might sound softer than the zephyr's sigh, or the lover's lute might be more appalling than the cannon's roar. So, too, even in regard to touch: if our touch were strong and swift as the lightning's stroke, the most solid matter would be less palpable than the air. So purely relative is the truth of all our sensible impressions: and many other truths with which we have to do may be admitted to be of the same relative character—to be truths merely in relation to us, and to beings constituted like us, but not necessarily truths to other orders of intelligence.
