“Not quite.”
“Are you satisfied about it?”
The doctor laughed. “I see,” he said; “the correct rendering of ‘Ding-an-sich’ is ‘The thing as it appears to your wife.’ Oh, yes! I’m satisfied!”
“Then you have found the only answer that can be given to the question you booked for future discussion, What is Truth?”
“Found it, eh? well, I certainly don’t recognize it,” said the doctor. “Your ideas of truth are rather limited, my friend.”
“They are; limited by my human nature, and the peculiarities of my mental and moral constitution.”
“Good! we agree perfectly. The most bigoted Materialist could ask no more.”
“Tarry a little,” said Ernest Clare; “I have more to say. Though truth to me be relative, in Itself it is Absolute, Unconditioned”—
“Unknowable,” said the doctor.
“In Its entirety and for the present, yes; though, for the future, we have the promise that we shall know even as we are known.”