sophy will resume the position from which it has been ejected.

The attempt of the naturalist to account for the phenomena of thought and feeling by outward observation, is much on an equality with that of the phrenologist to localise the faculties, by merely observing certain visible developments. In the latter case we shewed, that the very classification aimed at was supposed to be already made, and that we must have observed the various faculties in all their peculiarity before any position could possibly be assigned them. In the same manner must there be to the physiologist a firm conviction and a clear conception of all our various mental operations, before the very notion of finding their physical causes could be entertained.

In brief, the result of these considerations is this:-There are two classes of facts equally certain and equally clear, those, namely, of outward observation, and of inward consciousness, which can never be resolved into each other, but which must both form the materials of true philosophical research. If we take the external world alone as our starting point, we can never deduce from it the phenomena of mind, i. e., we can never succeed in shewing how the properties of matter can possibly be compatible with, or lead to, thought, feeling, and reasoning: and, on the contrary, if we start simply upon the facts of consciousness, allowing that only to be real which is deduced rationally from them,

we can never succeed in getting beyond the circle of our own subjective being, so as to prove, by logical inference, the existence of a world without. Self, with its pregnant consciousness, is one world; nature, with its varied changes, another; each resting upon its own evidence: but, as all knowledge is subjective, à priori principles must lie at the basis even of physical science, while physical science, in its turn, may in some of its branches throw light upon the workings of mind in its present close relation with the material world. The question, then, as to the real nature of the philosophy of man," we consider, can admit but of one rational reply, namely, that the physiologist and psychologist have their own separate sciences, their own separate facts, and their own separate conclusions; that both proceed on sure grounds, and may evolve in their own department sure results; but lastly, that the one of these branches may often be employed to throw light upon the other.

We now proceed to the other, and the far more difficult point of dispute between the materialist and the immaterialist, namely, what is the ultimate principle of thought in man? is it homogeneous with matter? or, is there a mind essentially distinct? Now, first, there is not much difficulty in exploding the vulgar appeal to common sense, by which the more shallow and thoughtless materialist attempts to shake the ordinary belief of

humanity in a thinking soul distinct from the body. He says (in an argument which, in fact, begs the whole question), shew me the mind; point it out to the perception of any of the senses; prove to me in this way that the belief in it is not a mere delusion; give me the same strength of evidence for its existence, as I can furnish you for the existence of matter, and I am content. We reply, what is your evidence for the existence of matter? You talk about touching and seeing it, but what is it that sees, and what that feels? Is it the brain? If so, prove it on your own principles. Shew me any physical process-any action of the nerves, or commotion in the cerebrum, that corresponds with a sensation or with the judgment, that I have an external object now lying before me. Where is the analysis of matter, however refined, which has resulted in a thought or a feeling; or, who has traced the action of the nerves up, step by step, until he has come palpably and sensibly to an emotion? You know of the existence of matter simply because you feel that it exists; but that feeling is purely a fact of your inward consciousness, which, upon your principles, has no certainty or reality about it. Be consistent at once; give up everything as veracious which has not external evidence; and give up, therefore, the inward feeling upon which your confidence in a material world rests.

If the materialist rejoins, that the various feelings

and judgments, of which we are conscious, are mere phenomena, which need not imply the existence of an invisible spiritual essence, we also rejoin, that hardness, or extension, or size are merely phenomena, which need not on the same ground imply a real material essence. Whether we regard the properties of body or mind, the subjoining to them of an essence or substratum is equally a process of reason, and the result is, a judgment or belief which in one case is no more certain than the other. The one says, I must believe in matter, and there is an end of the discussion; the other says, with an equally final decision, and I, too, must believe in mind: in both cases alike there is a falling back upon the evidence of consciousness. The appeal to common sense, then, is altogether retortable, and leaves the whole question in statu quo; both matter and mind resting on exactly equivalent evidence, be it sufficient or insufficient.

Now, as the whole discussion respecting the immateriality of mind has from its very nature been most fruitful in misunderstanding and logomachy, let us see in what the combatants ordinarily speaking really agree and in what they differ. With regard to the facts of consciousness, which we term thought, feeling, will, &c., there is no dispute; all admit that we do think, that we do feel, that we do will; to deny this would imply a mere play upon words which it were not worth while to notice or refute. Again, both parties admit certain facts

relating to the physical conditions of thought or sensation. They admit that we have a nervous system, that this is affected by impressions from without, that it has its centre in the brain, and that there is a certain action of the brain, either in whole or in part, corresponding with all the manifestations of intelligence or feeling. Now, these things being admitted, we pause, and ask-—are there any more facts, beside those we have mentioned, to which either party can appeal? The facts of physiology are granted on the one side, those of consciousness are granted on the other, and this is all, absolutely all, that any one can possibly know from direct observation, whether it be external or internal. The point, then, at which the materialist and the immaterialist commence their diverging courses, is just where they have run the full length of actual observation, and begin to reason or to theorize upon what they observe.

The material physiologist reasons thus:--Here is a wonderful piece of organization, the human body, producing the most extraordinary operations. Here is the stomach, which performs the functions of digestion; here the liver, which secretes the bile; here the brain, which produces thought and emotion. If we injure the stomach or the liver, we disturb the processes which they were intended to carry on; and so, if we injure the brain, it is found that we equally affect the processes of thought and feeling. In the two former cases we assign nothing