proper vital action.

"A man in convulsions is not

strong, though six men cannot hold him."

Like considerations apply when the single cell is regarded as individual. In virtue of a certain chemical constitution and a certain definite arrangement of molecules, a cell exhibits energy as nerve force. That special mode of energy is the definite result of a certain co-ordination of chemical combinations and molecular relations; and these are connoted in the individuality of the cell. When, however, in place of the definite process of statical attraction (nutrition) and dynamical repulsion (energy), there takes place a large demonstrative display of force,-as general epileptic convulsions, being the sum of the action of the individual cells, prove there must,—it is impossible to pronounce such force as of the same rank or kind as the proper energy of the cell. It is an inferior kind of power, and the certain indication of a degeneration of the statical correlative. It is the duty of a cell, so to speak, as of an individual, to live in certain relations with its surroundings-it is, indeed, its essence as an individual cell of specific character; and when it is not so living, it is really degenerating, losing its nature or kind, passing more or less quickly towards death. Its action is certainly not increased functional action. In truth, it would be as just to call extravagant acts of madness by an individual occupying a certain position in a system of government increased functional action, and to say that the government was stronger for his degenerate activity. A state, again, would not be powerful,

would not even exist, if each individual did as his passions prompted, altogether regardless of his relations to others; and it would certainly be a strange use of language to say then that the functional action of that individual was increased.

The phenomena of conscious vitality might be used to illustrate the same principles. A passionate man is not strong-minded, nor do the ravings of insanity reveal mental vigour. A completely fashioned will is the true mark of a strong mind. "A character," said Novalis, "is a completely fashioned will." As in the order of natural development there has been an ascent from the physical and chemical forces to the aim-working vital force, and thence from the lowest vitality to the highest manifestation thereof, so in the course of mental development there is a progress through sensation, passion, emotion, reason, to the highest phase of mental force, a well-fashioned will. The rightly developed mind, like the healthy cell, recognizes its relations to others; selffeeling gives place to or expands into moral feeling, and in the will all the phases of consciousness are coordinated into calm, just, definite action. Noise and fury surely indicate weakness; they are the manifestation of inferior force--the tale of an idiot signifying nothing. The strongest force is quiet force, and the ravings of insanity, which might not unjustly be compared to the convulsions of epilepsy, do not evince mental power.

May we not, then, already perceive, what advancing knowledge must ever render more clear, how the conscious mind of man blends in unity of development

with the unconscious life of nature? As the revelation of nature proceeds in the progress of science, the idealism of Plato and the realism of Bacon will be found to harmonize as expressions of the same truths; the generalizations of Humboldt and the poetical intuitions of Goethe may be looked upon as but different descriptions of the same facts. Idealism and realism blend and are extinguished in the intimate harmony between the individual and nature. How great, then, the ignorance which fancies that poetry demands a rude age for its successful development! How little, again, the insight which would make of science an ugly anatomy only! After analysis comes synthesis; and beyond the practical realization of science in works which add to human comfort, there remains the æsthetical embodiment of science. Art has now opening before it a field so wide that imagination cannot dare to limit it, for science must plainly attain to its highest development in the work of the future poet who shall give to its reality a beautiful form. Goethe indicated the path, but he who shall accomplish it will be a greater than Goethe.1

1 Perhaps the truest estimate of science, and the most remarkable prophecy with regard to it, is to be found in Goethe's tale, "Das Mährchen," a tale which has been described by one who has done most towards making Goethe known and understood in England, "as the deepest poem of its sort in existence-as the only true prophecy emitted for who knows how many centuries."

THE

LIMITS OF PHILOSOPHICAL INQUIRY.1

IT is not a little hard upon those who now devote themselves to the patient interrogation of nature, by means of observation and experiment, that they should be counted, whether they will or not, ministers of the so-called Positive Philosophy, and disciples of him who is popularly considered the founder of that philosophy. No matter that positive investigation within the limits which Comte prescribes was pursued earnestly and systematically before his advent, and with an exactness of method of which he had no conception; that many of those distinguished since his time for their scientific researches and generalizations have been unacquainted with his writings; that others who have studied them withhold their adherence from his doctrines, or energetically disclaim them. These things are not considered; so soon as a scientific inquirer pushes his researches into

1 JOURNAL OF MENTAL SCIENCE, No. 70. The Limits of Philosophical Inquiry. Address delivered to the Members of the Edinburgh Philosophical Institutution, November 6, 1868. By William, Lord Archbishop of York. (Edmonston and Douglas.)

the phenomena of life and mind, he is held to be a Comtist. Thus it happens that there is a growing tendency in the public mind to identify modern science with the Positive Philosophy. Considering how much mischief has often been done by identifying the character of an epoch of thought with the doctrines of some eminent man who has lived and laboured and taken the lead in it, and by thus making his defects and errors, hardened into formulas, chains to fetter the free course of thought, it is no wonder that scientific men should be anxious to disclaim Comte as their lawgiver, and to protest against such a king being set up to reign over them. Not conscious of any personal obligation to his writings, conscious how much, in some respects, he has misrepresented the spirit and pretensions of science, they repudiate the allegiance which his enthusiastic disciples would force upon them, and which popular opinion is fast coming to think a natural one. They do well in thus making a timely assertion of independence; for if it be not done soon, it will soon be too late to be done well. When we look back at the history of systems of religion and philosophy, it is almost appalling to reflect how entirely one man has appropriated the intellectual development of his age, and how despotically he has constrained the faith of generations after him; the mind of mankind is absolutely oppressed by the weight of his authority, and his errors and limitations are deemed not less sacred than the true ideas of which he has been the organ for a time he is made an idol, at the sound of whose name the human intellect is expected to fall down