Page:An introduction to philosophy (IA Introductiontoph00brig 0).pdf/83

Let us suppose that the result of Chapter II is correct. Then coherence is the test of truth. The more completely coherent our interpretation of experience is, the more nearly it approaches the precise truth. But there are puzzling questions that rise from this conclusion. One set of these questions leads to what is known as the problem of knowledge.
If I have been able to reach a coherent account of things, I feel justified in saying that I now know the truth about reality. I have knowledge in my grasp. But knowledge is an act of my mind; and that which I know is other than my knowledge of it. The North Pole, or relativity, or tomorrow, is not the same fact as my thought about it. Here, then, is a puzzle: How may I be certain that my ideas, even when they meet the requirements of the coherence (or any other) criterion, actually give me truth about the state of affairs in the real universe beyond me? The universe is so large, and I so insignificant, that it seems improbable that I should know reality as it is.
In our criticisms of the various proposed criteria of truth, we found acrucial point when we came to the correspondence theory. In examining it, we held that our ideas cannot be compared with reality; for, whenever we know, or believe