to the clash of arms and to the misery of war. The attendants long seek to rouse him, and when he does join the party, he still seems of another world. But Alcibiades appears, with all the graces of person and gifts of mind, to do honour to the festival of Agathon, and compares Socrates to the images of Silenus that were ordinarily to be met with for sale-that were rough and horrid without, but which opened and divided into two, and then you beheld the exquisite images of the gods within. He then bears testimony to the steadiness of Socrates' head, who, though he drank as much as any one, had never yet been seen intoxicated-who delighted his companions by his cheerfulness and serenity amidst the hardships of war, while he traversed the field of battle with as much composure as if he were pacing up and down his accustomed walk in the Agora of Athens; then he speaks of the fascination of his conversation, which, like the melody of Marsyas, charmed not only when performed by an exquisite musician, but even when repeated by the stupid and the illiterate. Then Socrates, whether warmed by the praise, the wine, or the presence of his two beautiful friends, shows himself, even in the friendly description of Plato, more in the character of Silenus or the satyrs, than of those celestial intelligences that were supposed to inhabit his breast. Again, we behold him in a different point of view, when, for a wonder, he leaves the streets of Athens, and breathes the air of the neighbouring fields. Unsandled, as usual, he wades with bare feet through the cool current of the Ilissus, his friend following him, urged by his example; and they find the chillness of the water not unpleasant, from the time of the year and of the day. Socrates, as unused to rural scenes, admires the lofty plenes, the consecrated fountain that gushed out at their feet, the reviving breeze of spring, that sighed through the branches, and the scent of the opening blossoms; yet spoke of this easy and neighbouring pleasure as one in which he would but seldom indulge. The country taught him nothing: he must be ever learning, and from the conversation of the men in the city-those conversations which brought upon him universal odium, a violent death to himself, and a lasting disgrace to his country. Knowledge, according to Socrates, is the only good, and ignorance the only evil; but knowledge, with Socrates, stands for the knowledge and practice of duty. Happiness consists in the observance of duty. To the practice of virtue we require two things,-self-knowledge and self-control. The deity is the foundation of duty and of morals. He is discerned internally and externally, from the nature of the mind, and from the structure of the universe. Socrates himself practised strict and habitual temperance, grounded upon the maxim, that he who has the fewest wants approaches nearest to the divine nature. The best State is that, where the greatest encouragement and largest rewards are proposed to virtue. Tried by this rule, how low would his native Athens stand in the scale of governments; and yet, in condemning him to drink the poisoned cup, it conferred upon him a nobler and more lasting immortality than if it had enrolled him among his country's gods, and erected altars to his worship. 'Socrates is to be admired for what he thought himself-for his few tenets, but of excellent use-still more for what he did not think, for the vain and frivolous disputes which he rejected-most of all, for the thoughts which he excited (and this he considered his proper vocation) in the minds of others.'-pp. 35-39. 6 The second part of Mr. Douglas's work is divided into nine sections. The first is on Perception;' the second on Memory and Suggestion;' the third on The Train of Thought;' the fourth on Reasoning and Logic;' the fifth on Emotions; the sixth on Taste;' the seventh on Freedom and the Will;' the eighth on Morals;' the ninth on Religion.' One of the longest and best sections (though there are a few insulated statements to which we cannot subscribe) is that on 'Perception;' in which Mr. Douglas traces with great clearness the history of the controversies on this subject; discriminates between sensation and perception; points out with great beauty the manner in which the several senses, though so distinct in their nature, and the intimations they bring us, conspire with one another, and enrich us with powers which could not be conferred by any of the senses alone. This is especially shown in the manner in which the two senses of touch and vision aid one another. On these subjects our author does ample justice to the merits of Berkeley and Reid; and points out with great beauty the arguments derived from this part of our constitution in support of natural theology. The following remarks are well worthy of attention. They arise, first, from the arbitrary nature of perception-our perceptions are limited, and limited by intelligent choice, our senses perceive only what it is useful that they should be informed of, and not what they would necessarily, or even naturally attend to. According to the theory of materialism, it is the changes of the brain of which we are sensible; on the contrary, the immediate act of perception knows nothing of the brain, nor of the nerves. It overleaps all these in the chain of changes, and has its attention at once fixed upon the objects which it is useful for it to know. Another series of proofs arises from the adaptation of the senses to their proper objects. It is evident, that if the unaided eye had the power of the microscope, or of the telescope, in either case, it would have been less fitted, if not altogether useless, for the actual purposes of life. A third series of proofs arises from the adaptation of the senses to each other. To take the same illustration: had the eye been similar to the microscope, we should have been in a considerable degree deprived of the largest source of information, acquired vision. The sight would no longer have corresponded to the touch. Berkeley excellently remarks: A microscope brings us as it were into a new world; it presents us with a new scene of visible objects, quite different from what we behold with the naked eye. But herein consists the most remarkable difference, to wit, that whereas the objects perceived by the eye alone, have a certain connexion with tangible objects whereby we are taught to perceive what will ensue upon the approach or application of distant objects to the parts of our own body, which much conduceth to its preservation; there is not the like connexion between things tangible, and those visible objects that are perceived by help of a fine microscope.' 'A fourth series of proofs arises, as we have shown, from the adaptation of the general structure of the mind to the senses by which their scattered notices are united, harmonized, and in their varied information, reduced, with the other notions we acquire through other channels, into one corresponding whole. While there are so many more obvious proofs of design, and so ably insisted upon in the admirable work of Paley, it is needless to dwell upon those which may appear to partake somewhat of the obscurity of the subject. But it is our highest wisdom, and should be our chief delight, to trace the operation of the Deity in every work of his hands; not to rest the argument upon inferences, which, however demonstrable, are remote from ordinary observation, and foreign to the usual habits of thought; but having the argument already placed on an undoubted basis, and in a demonstrative, though popular form, to point out occasionally, though briefly, the immense accessions which these arguments might receive, if every field of knowledge were laid under its due contribution.'-pp. 189–192. 6 It is now pretty generally admitted that Reid in his hostility. to the ideal system, and in his eagerness to destroy it root and branch, interpreted the word 'idea,' as it occurs in Locke and many other modern writers, far too rigidly; in fact, as though it had been intended to denote existences objective to the mind, instead of meaning much the same as thoughts' or 'notions.' Even Mr. Douglas seems to admit this; his words are, 'It perhaps must also be acknowledged, that, in some respects, Reid 'has not made sufficient allowance for the use of the word idea in 'other authors, nor adequately discriminated the varying shades ' of meaning attached to it, how far it was metaphorical, or to 'what extent it imposed upon the writer's own mind.' And yet he seems to censure Dr. Brown for having said 'The confuta'tion of mere metaphors, such as I cannot but think the images in 'the mind to have been, which Dr. Reid so powerfully assailed, 'seems an undertaking not very different from that of exposing, 'syllogistically and seriously, all the follies of Grecian Paganism, as a system of theological belief, in the hope of converting some 'unfortunate poetaster or poet, who still talks, in his rhyming to his mistress, of Cupid and the Graces.' Now with whatever undue warmth Dr. Brown may have spoken of Reid's efforts against the ideal system, he here evidently refers to his mistaken interpretation of the moderns; and so far we think Dr. Brown is quite right. We can very well remember (having read Locke very attentively before we read Reid), how astonished we were at what at first appeared to be the perversity with which the Scotch philosopher interpreted many of the obviously metaphorical expressions of our great countryman. When we afterwards understood Reid's character better, we regarded it merely as a singular delusion; but it then appeared, and still appears to us, a most monstrous one. The section entitled 'The Train of Thought and the Mental 'Faculties,' is for the most part truly excellent. In this he gives a brief, but very clear account of the controversy respecting the nature of general terms. We are rejoiced to see that he exposes what has always appeared to us the singularly superficial reasoning of Stuart on this subject, and evidently coincides with the opinion of Dr. Brown, whose lectures upon it form one of the most valuable parts of his voluminous course. The monstrous absurdities of the realists had been long before exposed, but the scarcely less enormous errors of the nominalists still required detection. The following remarks are much to the purpose: 'Mr. Stuart ranks himself with the nominalists, or those who deny we can reason concerning genera without the medium of language. But this is a strange and obvious, though frequent error; we must reason concerning genera before language is formed, and in order that language may be formed; we cannot name that which we cannot think of; classes must be formed previous to general appellations; we must determine whether an individual belongs to the class, before we can determine whether the common name of the class can be rightly applied to it. The great mistake of Mr. Stuart, and the nominalists, consists in considering language as necessary to a train of thought, whereas it is thought that is necessary to language. Without thought we could have no classification; without classification, no general terms. The modifying one single word (and this might be applied to many discussions and endless disputes) would have set every thing right. If, instead of affirming that we think solely by means of language, it had been affirmed that we think chiefly by means of language, there would have been no dissentients, and the doctrine and its inferences would have been the more correctly limited. As it is, Mr. Stuart lays far too definite a stress on language as the instrument of thought. If the doctrine of the nominalists were true, the maxim of Condillac would be true likewise, L'art de raisonner se réduit à une langue bien faite.' But though there is much truth in this, there is much more truth in the converse. If to speak well is to reason well, it is still more just, that to think right is to speak right. He, who had the most felicitous choice of words, of all writers, Horace, justly affirms, Scribendi rectê, sapere est et principium et fons.'' Mr. Douglas in many parts of his book, but more especially in this section, speaks of a power or faculty which he says has been 'scarcely ever noticed by philosophers,' and to which he gives the name of the constructive faculty; or the power which the mind possesses of combining its perceptions, thoughts, and feelings; which combinations are, to the mental philosopher, the subjects of analysis. We much doubt whether there was any necessity for this new term, and still more whether it indicates any power of the mind which has not been often noticed, or involves any phenomena which are not resolvable into a combination of those principles which had already been subjected to a pretty close analysis, and received appropriate names. But as Mr. Douglas has not fully developed his views on this point, nor precisely explained the nature and limits of this faculty or power, we abstain from any further remarks. In a future edition, we hope Mr. Douglas will say more upon it. One of the least satisfactory sections to us is that on 'Reasoning and Logic.' Our author still insists on the old-fashioned objections of Campbell, Reid, and Stuart against logic (founded principally on the follies of those who exorbitantly magnified its province and its utility), without paying sufficient attention to the replies of Whately; replies founded on a more correct investigation of its nature, and on a more distinct and modest statement of its objects. It is true that Mr. Douglas has read Dr. Whately's Treatise, for he speaks of it as 'an admirable' one; though how a treatise can be an admirable one on a subject on which Mr. Douglas expresses himself in such terms as follows, is to us a matter of surprise. He says: It has been doubted whether logic is an art or a science. Dr. 'Whately decides that it is both. It is, indeed, as much the one as the other,--it is the science of a self-evident truism; and the art, without understanding any subject, of disputing upon 'all.' We are far from being disposed to over-estimate the utility of logic, even when its objects and purposes are ever so strictly and carefully defined. Within the narrow limits, however, to which a correct investigation of its nature will ever restrict it, we believe it is of considerable value, and that so far as its proper objects are concerned, no other department of science can supply its place. We would illustrate our meaning thus: It is quite true, as the opponents of logic contend, that by far the greater number of fallacies are owing to the ambiguities, or various and indeterminate meanings of terms. But still there are fallacies-say one in ten, one in twenty, one in thirty, or in any other proportion, (we care not what,) which do not arise at all from the meaning of the terms, but from false inference; from haste and inaccuracy in deducing the conclusion from the premises. Now, of all such fallacies, logic, undoubtedly, gives us |