Part 8

"Neque enim lex æquior ulla Quam necis artifices arte perire sua."

But it is not so much the justice as the necessity of the case which we would plead as our excuse. Mr. Mill's method of criticism has reduced the question to a very narrow compass. Either Sir W. Hamilton, instead of being a great philosopher, is the veriest blunderer that ever put pen to paper, or the blunders are Mr. Mill's own. To those who accept the first of these alternatives it must always remain a marvel how Sir W. Hamilton could ever have acquired that reputation which compels even his critic to admit that "he alone, of our metaphysicians of this and the preceding generation, has acquired, merely as such, an European celebrity;" how he could have been designated by his illustrious opponent, Cousin, as the "greatest critic of our age," or described by the learned Brandis as "almost unparalleled in the profound knowledge of ancient and modern philosophy." The marvel may perhaps disappear, should it be the case, as we believe it to be, that the second alternative is the true one.

But even in this case, it should be borne in mind that the blow will by no means fall on Mr. Mill with the same weight with which he designed it to fall on the object of his criticism. Sir W. Hamilton had devoted his whole life to the study of metaphysics; he was probably more deeply read in that study than any of his contemporaries; and if all his reading could produce nothing better than the confusion and self-contradiction which Mr. Mill imputes to him, the result would be pitiable indeed. Mr. Mill, on the other hand, we strongly suspect, despises metaphysics too much to be at the pains of studying them at all, and seems to think that a critic is duly equipped for his task with that amount of knowledge which, like Dogberry's reading and writing, "comes by nature." His work has a superficial cleverness which, together with the author's previous reputation, will insure it a certain kind of popularity; but we venture to predict that its estimation by its readers will be in the inverse ratio to their knowledge of the subject. But Mr. Mill's general reputation rests on grounds quite distinct from his performances in metaphysics; and though we could hardly name one of his writings from whose main principles we do not dissent, there is hardly one which is not better fitted to sustain his character as a thinker than this last, in which the fatal charms of the goddess Necessity seem to have betrayed her champion into an unusual excess of polemical zeal, coupled, it must be added, with an unusual deficiency of philosophical knowledge.

POSTSCRIPT.

It was not till after the preceding pages had been sent to press that I became acquainted with a little work recently published under the title of The Battle of the two Philosophies, by an Inquirer. The author appears to have been a personal pupil of Sir W. Hamilton's, as well as a diligent student of his writings. At all events, he has "inquired" to some purpose, and obtained a far more intelligent knowledge of Hamilton's system than is exhibited by the majority of recent critics. It is gratifying to find many of my remarks confirmed by the concurrent testimony of so competent a witness. The following would have been noticed in their proper places had I been sooner acquainted with them.

Of the popular confusion between the infinite and the indefinite, noticed above, pp. 50, 112, "An Inquirer" observes:--

"If we could realise in thought infinite space, that conception would be a perfectly definite one; but the notion that is here offered us in its place, though it may be real, is certainly not definite; it is merely the conception of an indefinite extension.... In truth, when we strive to think of infinite space, the nearest approach we can make to it is this notion of an indefinite space, which Mr. Mill has substituted for it. But these two conceptions are not only verbally, they are really wholly distinct. An indefinite space is a space of the extent of which we think vaguely, without knowing or without thinking where its boundaries are. Infinite space has certainly, and quite distinctly, no boundaries anywhere."--(Pp. 18-20.)

On Mr. Mill's strange distinction between the Divine Attributes, as some infinite and others absolute, the author's remarks are substantially in agreement with what has been said above on pp. 105-6.

"Mr. Mill argues that all the attributes of God cannot be infinite; but that some, as power, may be infinite; and some, as goodness and knowledge, must be absolute, because neither can knowledge be more than complete, nor goodness more than perfect. When we know all there is to be known, he says, knowledge has attained its utmost limit. But this is merely begging the whole question. If there be an Infinite Being, He cannot know all there is to be known unless He know Himself; and adequately to know what is infinite is to have infinite knowledge. The same thing would be true if there could be a Being whose power and duration only were infinite. 'The will,' he adds, 'is either entirely right, or wrong in different degrees: downwards there are as many gradations as we choose to distinguish; but upwards there is an ideal limit. Goodness can be imagined complete,--such that there can be no greater goodness beyond it,'... But a Being of infinite power and finite goodness would not be perfectly good, because His power would not be wholly, but only in part directed by His goodness. Nay, as that which is finite bears no proportion whatever to what is infinite: as, however great it be absolutely, it is still infinitely less than infinity, such a Being would be partly good and yet infinitely evil, which is absurd in reason and impossible in fact."--(Pp. 24, 25.)

The following estimate of Mr. Mill's merits as a metaphysician coincides with that which, contrary to my expectation, I found forced upon myself after a careful examination of his book.--(See above, Pp. 62, 182.)

"We cannot but think that Mr. Mill in this, his first work in pure metaphysics, has disappointed just expectation. In leaving the fields of practical philosophy, he seems to have left his genius behind him. Even the peculiar 'cunning of his right hand'--even his unexcelled logical power avails him little, so continually does he fail to see distinctly the conception with which he is fencing.... As long as he is applying given principles to the solution of practical questions; as long as he has to do with the process of an argument, he proves himself a most able instructor and guide. But when he has to grapple with a metaphysical problem, it almost invariably arrives that the central, the metaphysical difficulty, escapes him."--(Pp. 78-80.)

MUIR AND PATERSON, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH.