of the senses combined? If not, away with them. But perhaps he may object that they are necessary inferences or suggestions of reflection? We reply: 1. According to his own theory, it is an absurdity to say that reflection can suggest anything; and, 2. The doctrine of necessary suggestion belongs to the opposite system of philosophy. Removing, therefore, from causation (as we must) the ideas of power and invariable succession, what remains as a basis for positive science? The only answer possible is, nothing-absolutely nothing. His system, therefore, ultimates in utter nihilism. It cannot even justify the subjective validity which it accords to the phenomena of sensation, or the existence of an external world. The identical arguments with which Berkeley and Hume have (in Mr. Lewes's estimation) successively overthrown the bulwarks of objective truth, are at least equally fatal to subjective certitude. We heartily indorse his declaration that "men demand certainty;" but must differ from him "toto cœlo" as to where this certitude can be found. Does he assert that it is undiscoverable in the realms of metaphysics? We reply that it can be demonstrated by parity of reasoning that it is equally a stranger to positive science. Does he assert that reason is subjective? We reply, a fortiori, so are the senses? Does he assert that it cannot be shown that reason is face to face with reality, therefore cannot determine the existence of objects per se? We reply that the same objection lies with equal or superior force against the senses. Or, finally, falling back upon the logic of common sense, will he affirm that our faith in our senses is necessary and irresistible? We reply: 1. That faith is a strange basis for positive philosophy; and, 2. That faith in reason is quite as legitimate and irresistible. One of two alternatives is therefore inevitable either the fundamental dogma of Positivism, which limits all knowledge to that of the successions and resemblances of phenomena, rejecting alike all first and final causes-in a word, all causation must be discarded; or, logically, universal nihilism must be accepted as the only legitimate goal of all science as well as of all philosophy.

M. Comte, the great author of Positivism, wisely ignored the whole question of the validity of sensational knowledge, probably because he perceived that after rejecting the category of causation, there was nothing left upon which a valid theory of perception could be reared. But his less cautious disciple has not only admitted the legitimacy of the problem, but has himself actually proposed it, and cannot, therefore, justly complain, if, like Banquo's ghost, it will not down at his bidding, Positivism, as interpreted by Mr. Lewes, is essentially the same that it was in the hands of its author; and

we cannot, perhaps, better sum up our views of it than by a quotation from our own review of the system in the Southern Methodist Quarterly, namely:

"Positivism is the virtual culmination of the sensational philosophy which sprang from the Nova Instauratio of Bacon, who proposed, in view of the superior clearness and directness of physics, to postpone metaphysics to a later stage of human progress; trusting that, in the light of a developed science, a solution of its problems would become less difficult. His illustrious disciple, Locke, deeply imbued with the spirit of his master, really, though perhaps undesignedly, subordinated consciousness to sensation-the study of the internal to that of the external world; but he fully recognized, notwithstanding, the existence of mind as a substance superior and superadded to physical organization. His successor, Condillac, went one step farther: ignored any internal source of ideas; identified consciousness with perception, which he defined to be simply a consciousness of sensations; and declared all intellectual states and affections to be mere modes of the operation of the external world upon an organized material being, through the medium of its senses. Having thus reduced mind to entire passivity, and the problems of metaphysics to simple questions of physical science, he attempted to verify his conclusions by a logical deduction of all our ideas from external sources. Materialism was to him a theorem to be demonstrated, the goal toward which his philosophy ever tended.

"M. Comte, treading with a bolder step in the same pathway, coolly assumed Condillac's conclusion as a point of departure; not, however, in virtue of his predecessor's attempted demonstration, but as an axiomatic premise which needed no verification. Hence, in his Law of Evolution,' he peremptorily sets aside all theological (absolute) conceptions as fictitious, abolishes metaphysics, substitutes mathematics for logic, and restricts human knowledge to the narrow limits of an empiricism which excludes all cognitions that contain any element other than a perception of the relations of succession and resemblance in the phenomena of the external world. Causation and consciousness rejected, all ground for the affirmation of the thinking subject is lost, and objective skepticism is the inevitable result.

"The cycle is thus completed, and the subjectivity of Berkeley, which denies the existence of the external world, by resolving it into a mere mode of human thought, is exactly counterbalanced by the objectivity of M. Comte, which, in turn, resolves thought and mind into mere modes of organized matter. It is passing strange that both Comte and Berkeley failed to perceive that the same principles which led the one to reject mind, and the other to deny the existence of matter, logically demand the union of the two apparent extremes in a synthesis which shall at the same moment blot out both mind and matter-physics and metaphysics-and proclaim an utter nihilism to be the necessary goal of philosophical speculation. The extreme right of idealism thus blends with the extreme left of sensationalism in a mutually destructive union, which exhausts and solves the great problem of philosophy by blotting from existence both subject and object. From such a conclusion reason revolts, and humanity turns away in disgust."

We had purposed here to terminate our labors; but one thought has followed us so persistently throughout our investigations, that we will venture to give it utterance, albeit we know that it is little

See Quarterly Review of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, for July, 1857, and January and April, 1858.

likely in the present age to win approval. The thought in question has reference to the relation of the doctrine of the impersonality of reason to the great problem that has been the topic of discussion in the preceding pages, namely: Have we an organon of philosophy? To us the one has ever seemed to be the necessary complement of the other, logically accounting for and guarantying the objective validity of the a priori necessary truths which constitute that organon. And it may well be doubted whether any theory short of this can offer a basis sufficiently broad for the establishment of a valid, all-comprehending system of philosophy, which shall be adequate to the present intellectual wants, and to the ever-expanding necessities of human development, and thus become, virtually at least, a finality in the field of speculative activity; not indeed by fixing, as Positivism has attempted to do, arbitrary limits to the scope of human inquiry, but by establishing rationally the grand landmarks of thought, which shall guide the student in his adventurous course. Such a system should comprehend, co-ordinate, and classify all the correlated branches of science, philosophy, and theology.

The doctrine of the impersonality of reason, in its abstract form, unquestionably seems paradoxical on its first announcement, because, perhaps, all the other attributes of humanity are necessarily personal. Did space permit, we think, however, that it might be shown that, a priori, such a supremacy is due to reason, and necessary for man's welfare; but under present circumstances a few obvious considerations, easily verified by the thoughtful reader, must suffice. We remark, then,

1. That no reflecting man ever deliberately uses the same phraseology with reference to reason that he is accustomed to apply to the senses, or even to the judgment. Nay, more: we hazard the assertion that even the unreflecting, who use language most loosely, rarely use the same verbiage with respect to it that they do when speaking of confessedly personal attributes. The expressions, "my senses," "my memory," "my judgment," &c., are heard constantly, but "my reason" rarely or never. Men seem to feel instinctively that they have no right of property in that-that it has none of the attributes of personality. What is this other than the unconscious testimony of reason to its own impersonality?

2. We never deliberately, in view of all the facts, attempt authoritatively to subject others to the determinations of our individual senses or judgment, and we instinctively rebel if another seeks to subjugate us in a like manner; but we appeal unhesitatingly to reason as to a legitimate tribunal, and, in turn, we bow as readily to its rightful authority when others invoke its decisions against us.

Nay, more: a man is declared to be crazy who will not listen to reason, no matter how strongly or persistently he may plead that his individual reason sanctions his opinions. The smile of ridicule, the mocking laugh, or the straight-jacket, is deemed to be the only suitable answer in such a case. But wherefore, if reason be not identical in all men-if it be not impersonal?

Finally, on no other intelligible hypothesis can discussion or argument between man and man be justified rationally; for it obviously implies and necessitates the recognition of a common standard, to which both parties are amenable as a condition precedent. But if reason be a subjective attribute, no such tribunal exists, and the logic of the sword and the battle-field is as rational as that of the intellectual arena, and no truth whatever can have any authority beyond the threshold of the individual intellect in which it originated. Men are therefore logically isolated from each other, and from all higher orders of intelligent beings. Such a conclusion is at variance with all the feelings and instincts of our nature, with the necessities of our intellectual life, and, we might add, with the teachings of the oracles of God, which clearly recognize the essential identity of reason in man the creature, and in God the Creator, by the appeals which God makes to it in vindication of the righteousness and justice of his dealings with men.

Unpopular as this doctrine of the impersonality of reason now is, we hazard the prediction that the day is not distant when not merely the necessities of philosophy, but even those of positive science, will necessitate a re-examination of this question and inaugurate a new theory; for without an organon of philosophy such as this much derided dogma would afford, if rationally conjoined to the affirmation of the existence of a priori truths independent of experience, we must believe that any valid system of philosophy is impossible.

FOURTH SERIES, VOL. XI.-35

ART. II.-HUGH MILLER.

1. My Schools and Schoolmasters; or, the Story of my Education. By HUGH MILLER. Boston: Gould & Lincoln. 1856.

2. The Life and Times of Hugh Miller. By THOMAS N. BROWN. New York: Rudd & Carleton. 1858.

HUGH MILLER was born of humble but respectable parentage, in the little town of Cromarty, on the northeastern shore of Scotland, in the second year of the present century. His father, whose cognomen also was Hugh, as that of all his male ancestry in a direct line for generations had been, was a seafaring man, dauntless, indomitable, of great force of character and uncompromising integrity. His mother, the granddaughter of the venerable Donald Roy, (a name still well known in the tradition of the north of Scotland, and who, though at the age of eighty, had the courage alone to protest against the intrusion of an obnoxious presentee,) was one of those affectionate and confiding women who make at once the fond, devoted wife and faithful mother. While to his paternal side Hugh Miller may be indebted for much of that intellectual robustness, independence, and force of character which have so preeminently distinguished him, it was doubtless from this excellent woman that he inherited, in a great degree, those sentiments and feelings which have given energy to his talents as the defender of revealed truth, and the champion of the Church of his fathers.

While Hugh was yet a boy of five summers, the same fate which in turn had overtaken his grandfather, two granduncles, and several of his more distant relatives, until indeed it seemed to have become quite hereditary, overtook also his own father. The sloop he was sailing foundered and went down amid a terrible tempest at sea, and he was never heard from more. Mere child as he was, the dark shadow which this melancholy event cast over Hugh Miller's mind seems never to have passed altogether away.

Hugh Miller's mother experienced the usual difficulties and reverses which a widow without means has, in the decent education of her children, to encounter. Her necessities, however, were materially alleviated through the very generous conduct of her two brothers, one a harness-maker and the other a carpenter, to whose manly and simple virtues Mr. Miller has left-in that most delightful of his works, his Schools and Schoolmasters-a most grateful and endearing tribute. These brothers advanced her money as she needed it; provided altogether for her eldest daughter, a docile