dance along from the Steinbruch, (now a huge Troglodyte chasm, with frightful, green-mantled pools,) and shape themselves into Doric and Ionic pillars, squared ashlar houses, and noble streets? Was it not the still higher Orpheus, or Orpheuses, who in past centuries, by the divine music of wisdom, succeeded in civilizing man? Our highest Orpheus walked in Judea, eighteen hundred years ago. His sphere-melody, flowing in wild native tones, took captive the ravished souls of men; and, being of a truth, sphere-melody, still flows and sounds, though now with thousand fold accompaniments, and rich symphonies, through all our hearts; and modulates and divinely leads them."*

A. L.

ART II. LOCKE AND THE TRANSCENDENTALISTS.

It is remarkable, that we have yet no well-written biography of Locke. The volumes by Lord King add little to our knowledge of his private life and character. They are made up chiefly of the sweepings of his writing-desk; fragments of a correspondence which he maintained with distinguished literary contemporaries, and imperfect drafts and abstracts of works, which were either subsequently published in a completed form, or were left by a change of purpose, or a want of time, among a heap of unexecuted projects. Yet they are not devoid of interest. We like to be admitted to the workshop of genius, and by inspection of the fragments scattered around, to gain some idea of the successive steps by which great works are evolved. Such "disjecta membra" not only throw light on the history of the individual mind, but afford valuable hints to the general inquirer into the phenomena of thought and opinion. Taken in connexion with the incidents in the life of a philosopher, they show the reciprocal workings of thought and action, and afford the most satisfactory proof of the sincerity of published opinions. They are rendered interesting from the previously acquired reputation of the

* Sartor Resartus, pp. 264, 265.

writer, and instructive from the insight they afford into the means by which that reputation was acquired.

But the character of Locke hardly needed the illustration to be obtained from such sources as these. It is apparent on the very face of his larger works, and we rise from the perusal of them with much the same feelings, as those excited by conversation with an old and valued friend. He never puts on the airs of an author professedly dictating sentences for the public; but his thoughts flow from him with the same ease, simplicity, and not unfrequently the same vivacity, which we expect in the most unstudied table talk. Part of the effect produced on the reader is undoubtedly to be ascribed to the character of the style, which is always clear, homely, and repetitional; but more is to be attributed to the writer's peculiar turn of mind, and his entire freedom from any desire for effect. Though somewhat positive in the statement of opinions, and pertinacious in their support, he never puts on the robes and declares his sentiments in the tone of a dogmatist. Hence, some peculiarities, which detract from the merit of his writings, enhance our admiration of his character as a man. Trite and puerile remarks are mingled with the most profound and sagacious observations, and the expression is as homely in the latter case, as in the former. His style is never ornamented but by accident, nor terse but from the nature of the argument. He uses perfect good faith with the reader, never attempting to hide the frivolity of an idea by a pompous enunciation, or to cover his retreat from a difficulty in the argument, by raising a mist of words. Though an acute reasoner, he avoids the common error of logicians, who regard as incontrovertible truths those assertions, which, in the set forms of their art, they are unable to disprove. His strong good sense breaks away from the trammels of system, and cuts the Gordian knot, which his dialectical skill cannot untie.

His intellect was distinguished rather for originality than depth. He threw a new light upon speculative philosophy, not by gaining a deeper insight into the questions of which it is composed, but by contemplating them from a new point of view. Thus his method in philosophy was like that of a great commander in war, whose opponents console themselves under defeat by the reflection, that they have been beaten contrary to the rules. Grant the exclusive propriety of their system, and they ought to have conquered. And in

what did this originality consist? Not in the love of paradox, which he cautiously and even conscientiously avoided. Not in keeping away from positions, which another had occupied before him. His mind was of that generous cast, which welcomed truth, wherever it was to be found. He considered the triteness of a remark rather as évidence of its truth, than as an argument against its repetition. But the novelty of his method consisted in treating the gravest and most abstract questions of philosophy with the same homeliness and perspicuity of manner, that one adopts in the discussion of the ordinary topics of every-day life. He examines man's claim to immortality, and the evidence for the being of a God, with as little effort after fine language, as a lawyer would make in settling the title deeds of an estate. Such a procedure aids not only the comprehension, but the solution of metaphysical doubts. Difficulties vanish as language becomes less technical and involved. Such at least is the case, with subjects which the mind can effectually grasp. On the other hand, when the faculties are tasked for purposes, to which they are entirely incompetent, simplicity of manner exposes the failure, which pompous technicality only veils. The errors of Locke's system lie upon the surface, and he must be a tyro indeed, who cannot detect them. But it is easier to criticise than to amend.

Hence the opinion, which seems to be gaining ground of late, that the author of the Essay on the Understanding was a clear but shallow reasoner. Men affect to praise the soundness of his judgment, but sneer at his pretensions to the title of a philosopher. He uses arguments which are nothing but virtual appeals to common sense, and these are alleged to be inconsistent with the character of a deep thinker and sound logician. But what do such charges amount to? What is common sense, but the highest philosophy applied to the usual purposes of practical life? And what is philosophy, but common sense, employed in abstract investigations? Genius consists in the bent of the faculties towards a particular pursuit, and may as frequently be displayed in the conduct of ordinary business, as in the prosecution of scientific research. It works with the same tools, though it looks to a different end. The sagacity employed in detecting minute differences of character among our friends, is akin to the metaphysical tact, which distinguishes between neighboring affections of mind, that to

common observers appear shaded into each other by imperceptible gradations. The wit which sparkles in conversation, often astonishes us, when applied to the philosophy of mind, by the novelty of its suggestions, and its quickness of vision. Each of these faculties is productive of good in its lower as in its higher avocations. In the former it is more practical, in the latter more comprehensive.

But in thus asserting the equal appositeness of a plain style and simplicity of manner to philosophical subjects, we mean more than simply to defend Locke from the charge of a want of vigor and depth. What is alleged against him constitutes his peculiar merit. Whoever rescues any branch of literature or science from the hands of a sect, and by divesting it of the jargon in which their pride and pedantry had involved it, lays it open to the comprehension and use of the multitude, does as much for the interests of learning, as those who have most distinguished themselves by the originality of their views, and by the extent to which they have pushed their researches. To bring down philosophy from its high places is to enhance its real diginity, by adding to its usefulness. This service was performed by Locke. He not only raised more from the field in which he labored than his predecessors had done, but he improved the soil, and increased the number of cultivators. He was as much the father of modern metaphysics, as Newton was of astronomical science, or Adam Smith of political economy. Hume borrowed his weapons from Locke, and from the desire of refuting the skeptical conclusions of the former, arose the Scotch and German schools, the opposite poles of modern philosophy.

Up to a recent period, the authority of Locke, in all that related to style of thought and expression, was paramount among English philosophers. None adopted his doctrines to their full extent. His lively pupil, Shaftesbury, and others impugned them as soon as published. Hume, the French school of Condillac and Condorcet, received such portions as they found would form convenient premises for their own preconceived skeptical conclusions. Other writers followed the opposite course, took what the skeptics left, and abandoned what their opponents had adopted. Condillac fastened on that portion of Locke's system, which traces the origin of the mind's furniture to sensation; Reid and Stewart on the other part, which refers the source of many ideas to reflection.

Each party condemned what they did not find convenient for their own purposes. Both followed the manner of their common predecessor. The same simplicity of statement, the same directness of argument, equal caution in the use of figurative terms, and against the ambiguities arising from the nature of language, are found in the writings of all to whom we have alluded. They imitated neither the eloquent dreams of Plato, nor the mystical refinements of Plato's commentators. The mind was to them a subject of experiment and observation; experience was their guide, and they followed with caution indeed, but without the least suspicion that it was a blind. guide, and its proper name was empiricism. The subtilties and abstruse phraseology of the schoolmen were held as obsolete as their speculations in physics, and a follower of Newton would have reverted to the system of Ptolemy, or the vortices of Descartes, sooner than an English metaphysician, after the time of Locke, would have babbled in the vain jargon of the middle ages. They easily adopted modes of thought and language, which fell in with the national character, and their philosophy harmonized with their manners and habits of life.

But the fashion of the times has greatly altered. A change has come over the spirit of speculation, and tricked out its former plain garb in quaint devices and foreign fashions. A forced marriage has been effected between poetry and philosophy, the latter borrowing from the former a license to indulge in conceit and highly figurative expression, and giving in return an abstruse and didactic form to the other's imaginative creations. One would think, that men were weary of common sense expressed in pure English, and, from the mere love of change, were striving after what is uncommon and impure.

Certain it is, that a revolution in taste and opinion is going on among our literary men, and that philosophical writing is assuming a phasis entirely new. Its former characteristics are decried, or at least designated by new terms, that imply a shade of reproach. If the alteration regard the dress more than the substance, if the transcendental philosophy as yet be a manner rather than a creed, still the departures from the old method are real, and involve important consequences. But we believe, that the change is more sweeping in its nature. It is proposed, not to alter and enlarge, but to con