Says one philosopher, Our senses lie; another says, We’re never fooled. They’re both correct.
A stick in water stuck seems bent; my reason rectifies it.
Here below, the sun looks flat; I know it round. It seems to move, but science anchors it, and sends the earth careering round it. It appears two handfuls big, but trigonometry reveals that, seen close up, its dazzling blaze would seem the all-engulfing eye of God.
In short, my mind, with reason’s instruments, can overcome illusions and disclose the hidden truth behind appearances.
If I uncritically believed my sight, as many do, the moon would seem to have a woman’s face. This simulacrum’s due to an uneven surface: mountains, plains, and valleys alternately cast or catch shadows and light, and trace the features of a man, an ox, an elephant.
Not long ago in England, through a telescope there was observed among the stars a strange new animal. Amazed excitement spread. So great a change within the firmament must surely presage some great change below. Perhaps the wars convulsing Europe then were caused by it!
The king, as patron of the highest learning, hastened to behold the celebrated monster. He beheld . . . a mouse that somehow’d gotten trapped between the lenses.
Everybody laughed aloud. Some prodigy!
To know a liar lies prevents your being fooled by his pretenses. Don’t be too quick to trust your too-quick senses.