belong to men who write books, as well as to those who read them? Do not authors now and then indulge in wil. ful mystification? The plea is a very convenient one, but it proves nothing, because it proves too much. Jacob Boehme might have used it, as well as the plainest thinker that ever lived.

The assertion has been so frequently repeated of late, and always with such a self-complacent air on the part of the utterer, that no small courage is now required for a hearer or listener to confess honestly, that he does not know what his instructer is talking about. But we have less hesitation in urging an objection, which has come to be used by very respectable authority. Fichte is not remarkable for clearness of thought or perspicuity of manner; yet he can speak out on this subject with sufficient plainness. “ As to the charge of not understanding Kant, I do not consider that as implying any reproach ; for I hold, - and this I am willing to repeat as often as it may be required of me, - 1 hold the writings of that philosopher to be absolutely unintelligible to one, who does not know beforehand what they contain." On this principle, of course, the writings of the metaphysician of Königsberg were as well understood a century before his birth, as they are at the present day.

A poor spirit of exclusiveness is shown in this desire to wean philosophy from objects of common interest to diminish the number of its students, and give them the appearance of adepts in a mystical science. Such a disposition has actuated more than one sect of soi-disant philosophers, as the following vivid, though homely portraiture by Locke may testify.

“ The philosophers of old, (the disputing and wrangling philosophers I mean, such as Lucian wittingly and with reason taxes,) and the schoolmen since, aiming at glory and esteem for their

great and universal knowledge, found this a good expedient to cover their ignorance with a curious and inexplicable web of perplexed words, and procure to themselves the admiration of others by unintelligible terms, the apter to produce wonder, because they could not be understood ; whilst it appears in all history, that these profound doctors were no wiser nor more useful than their neighbors, and brought but small advantage to human life, or the societies wherein they lived; unless the coining of new words, where they produced no new things to apply them to, or the perplexing or obscuring the signification of old ones, and so bringing all things into question and dispute, were a thing profitable to the life of man, or worthy commendation and reward.”

When properly understood, metaphysical studies are closely allied to other human pursuits, for they concern the dearest and highest interests of our being. The nature of the soul, the mode in which its powers operate, the peculiar functions of each faculty, - these are no objects to be investigated in the manner of a charlatan, who seeks to as. tound his hearers by paradox, or bewilder them by the use of incomprehensible terms. Real elevation of purpose seeks humility of manner.

16 Wisdom is ofttimes nearer when we stoop,

Than when we soar."

We like not this constant flapping of wings,

· this continued but vain effort of an ungainly bird to rise, when its own gravity fastens it to the earth.

Owls cannot see in the sunshine. One writer talks of the revelations to be made, “when the obscuring daylight shall have withdrawn.” We commend him to the remark

“ this same truth is a naked and open daylight, that does not show the masques, and mummeries, and triumphs of the world, half so stately and daintily as candle.. light. The first creature of God in the works of the days was the light of the sense; the last was the light of reason;

of Bacon;

and his Sabbath work, ever since, is the illumination of his Spirit.”

We have spoken warmly of the Transcendental mode of thought and expression, without alluding to individuals, in whose writings the offensive characteristics are displayed. It would be an invidious task to point to publications in this vicinity, for illustration of what has been advanced. Besides, the feeling is as yet an under-current, that has perverted, without completely infecting, the tone of speculation on many subjects, and has openly manifested itself among us, only in ephemeral and occasional writings. Coleridge and Carlyle have been the leaders of the sect in England, and it is somewhat remarkable, that the popularity of each is greater on this side of the Atlantic, than it is at home. We are proverbially fond of notions, and this surely is the most fantastic one yet imported. People are amused at the novelty, and stare at its grotesque manifestations, without regard to the more serious aspects in which the subject may be viewed. Farther developments may rouse indignation, by leading men to examine the extravagant character of the results, or the evil may work its own cure, by its excess provoking contempt.

We would touch reverently upon the character of Coleridge. Any mind capable of appreciating the exquisite sensibility displayed in his poetry, his gorgeousness of imagination, and his sympathy with all the works of creation, must approach with awe the failings of the man. But it does not happen to one to excel in all things. Coleridge

orn much more for poetry than philosophy. Not that the rare qualities of his mind were unmeet or insufficient for the pursuit of wisdom, through any avenue by which it may be approached. But his imagination outgrew and overwreathed his judgment, as, under the tropics, an enormous vine covers, with the rank luxuriance of its growth,

was

the tree which it clasps. He saw visions, and dreamed dreams in philosophy. Though he often arrived at brilliant and novel results, he could not trace, in a way satisfactory even to himself, the steps of his progress; and the outpourings of his mind on abstruse subjects resembled the fancies of a poet, or the prophecies of a seer, more than the stable and definite conclusions of well regulated inquiry. The texture of his mind was over finely wrought, and he lived on bodily and mental food, which half maddened him. He was for ever haunted with the dim scheme of a grand constructive philosophy, which, during his lifetime, he hardly commenced, and which he would not have completed, had he lived to the age of Methuselah. A daring innovator in speculation, he was an obstinate Conservative in politics. His Toryism was excessive. The rotten borough system was to him the corner-stone of the English constitution, and the worn-out articles of the English church were in every point the perfection of doctrine, the alpha and omega of Christianity. The system of Malthus was strous, practical lie," and modern political economy "a solemn humbug." In short, he was Dr. Johnson in politics, Emanuel Swedenborg in philosophy, and — himself in poetry.

We cannot avoid the suspicion, that in the following passage he had indistinct reference to himself. 66 Madness is not simply a bodily disease. It is the sleep of the spirit with certain conditions of wakefulness; that is to say, lucid intervals. During this sleep or recession of the spirit, the

bestial states of life rise up into action and prominence.

It is an awful thing to be eternally tempted by the perverted senses. The reason may resist, - it does resist,

for a long time ; but too often, at length, it yields for a moment, and the man is mad for ever. I think it was Bishop Butler, who said, that he was all his life struggling

a mon

a

lower or

a

*

against the devilish suggestions of his senses, which would have maddened him, had he relaxed the stern wakefulness of his reason for a single moment.

To a mind like that of Coleridge, the study of German metaphysics was poison. It increased his appetite for the marvellous, rendered his speculations more abstract, crude, and daring, imparted virulence and coarseness to his replies to opponents, and lessened his interest in the common concerns of life. To his countrymen, he was an able interpreter of the writings of Kant, Fichte, and Schelling. He gilded the clouds of their raising with the warm hues of his own rich imagination. His eloquence recommended dogmatism, and while men sympathized with his aspirations for a higher and a nobler philosophy, they forgot to examine his premises, and yielded assent more as a matter of feeling than of judgment. We cannot argue against his positions, for they do not rest upon argument. Transcendental reasoning can only be answered by a Transcendentalist. There is nothing tangible for a common person to strike at; even Don Quixote never thought of contending against a cloud.

The admirers of Coleridge have been singularly injudicious in the praises, which they have heaped upon him. One recommends his philosophical writings as models of English prose, when we may safely declare, that, for the comprehension of a considerable portion of them, a fair knowledge of German and Greek is absolutely indispensable. Besides, the sentences are often long and involved, the construction harsh, and the choice of words very unfor. tunate. It must be admitted, however, that his style is remarkably unequal. There are many and long passages, in which he shows wonderful command over the riches of his