The book containing this prediction was published in 1709. In 1726, Cheselden, the celebrated surgeon, couched a boy fourteen years of age, who had been blind from his birth. His account of the case appeared first in the “Philosophical Transactions” of that year, and afterwards in his work on Anatomy, from which the following passage is taken.

" When he first saw, he was so far from making any judgment about distances, that he thought all objects whatever touched his eyes, (as he expressed it,) as what he felt did his skin ; and thought no object so agreeable as those which were smooth and regular, though he could form no judgment of their shape, or guess what it was in any object that was pleasing to him. He knew not the shape of any thing, nor any one thing from another, however different in shape or magnitude ; but upon being told what things were, whose form he before knew from feeling, he would carefully observe, that he might know them again. But having too many objects to learn at once, he forgot many of them. Having often forgot which was the cat and which the dog, he was ashamed to ask ; but catching the cat, which he knew by feeling, he was observed to look at her steadfastly, and then setting her down, said, 'So puss, I shall know you another time.' About two months after he was couched, he discovered at once that pictures represented solid bodies ; when, to that time, he had considered them only as party-colored planes, or surfaces diversified with a variety of paint. But even then, he was no less surprised, expecting the pictures would feel like the things they represented, and was amazed when he found those parts, which by their light and shadow appeared now round and uneven, felt only flat like the rest, and asked which was the lying sense, feeling or seeing. Being shown his father's picture in a locket at his mother's watch, and told what it was, he acknowledged a likeness, but was vastly surprised ; asking how it could be that a large face could be expressed in so little room ; saying it seemed as impossible to him, as to put a bushel of any thing into a pint. At first, the things he saw he thought extremely large ; but upon seeing things larger, those first seen he conceived less, never being able to imagine any

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lines beyond the bounds he saw; the room he was in, he said, he knew to be but part of the house, yet he could not conceive that the whole house could look bigger. I have couched several others," adds Mr. Cheselden, “who were born blind, whose observations were of the same kind; but they being younger, none of them gave so full an account as this gentleman.”

We have dwelt thus long on Berkeley's “ Theory of Vision,” from a conviction of its importance in the progress of mental science. Here, at least, is one step gained ; one curious fact in the history of mind, not obvious in itself, but first worked out by patient analysis and reflection, and then demonstrated by observation of the predicted results. Its establishment makes for future inquirers a point of departure, not a principle to be questioned, nor a fancied error to be overturned. If the philosophy of mind be capable of advancement, it must be through means of similar discoveries effected by similar means. The very nature of a scientific principle is, that it be fixed, limited, and definite, for these qualities alone distinguish it from vague remark and fanciful speculation. This will be readily admitted with regard to physical science. But there are those, who will not allow it to be applicable to the philosophy of mind, or to what is rather called, as the foundation of all science, philosophy itself. With such persons, the test of a principle or a system is not its literal truth, but its completeness, or rather its universality. Making the boldness of their attempts an excuse for their own failure, they taunt their opponents not with want of success, but with grovelling views. To adopt the words of Bacon, "rejiciunt itaque lumen experientiæ, propter arrogantiam et fastum, ne videatur mens versari in vilibus et fluxis.” But has their own success been at all commensurate with the lofty promises of their manifesto? To resolve this question, we must inquire more particularly into the origin and nature of the

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difference of opinion here alluded to, and see what is the real ground of contention.

The Scotch metaphysicians, as they are styled, have uniformly maintained that the Baconian mode of investigation, undoubtedly contrived at first with a view principally to physical science, is still a universal organon of scientific inquiry, and as such, is perfectly applicable to the philosophy of mind. Perhaps they have harped too much on this string, and by constant appeals to the “ Baconian method” and the “inductive logic," as well as by excessive timidity in their own researches, have exposed themselves, in some instances, to well-merited ridicule. Still, they have accomplished something by adhering closely to their principles ; for the reputation of Reid, at least, founded on his speculations concerning the ideal theory, the difference between sensation and perception, and the analysis of the former faculty, cannot safely be impugned. To this school vir- . tually belong other inquirers, who, in the order of time, far preceded Reid and his coadjutors. Locke first showed the practicability of the method, and the Scotch philosophers made his example, rather than Bacon's precepts, their im. mediate guide. Berkeley also belongs to the same set, so far as his theory of vision is concerned, and it is remarkable, that this is the only portion of his philosophical writings, the merit of which has never been doubted.

The example of all these writers has proved, that philosophy grows by the successive contributions of different minds, and that observation and patient research are as fruitful in this as in the other sciences. Admitting, that many questions, which had exercised the ingenuity of former inquirers, were beyond the reach of our faculties, a broad field of investigation appeared still open, and the cultivation of it promised to advance the well-being of mankind in the same manner, that discoveries in the depart.

ment of physics had done, though to a far greater degree. The results would be equally definite and equally tangible, though not so easily referred to their proper source. But this timid procedure has become unpopular of late. A new set of philosophers has arisen, professing not to be mere contributors to the science of mind, but to be authors of new systems, covering the whole ground, and explaining all observed and all possible phenomena. Their followers will admit nothing that is partial, but reject every scheme, which does not, like that of Cousin, “ embrace in one splendid generalization, God, man, and the universe." There is something very captivating in such a procedure. To reduce all the riddles of human life to one grand problem, and by a single statement, however arbitrary, to resolve the difficulty, is an attempt worthy of a comprehensive and daring spirit. Abstracting entirely from differences of opinion on single topics, and looking only to the manner and object of philosophical inquiries, we find no other distinction so broad and obvious, as the one here stated, between the writings of Kant, Fichte, Schelling, and Cousin, on the one side, and those of Locke, Reid, and their followers, on the other. Berkeley can be ranked with the latter set in respect only to his theory of vision. In his other works, he rather appears as the founder of the former school. But the two methods may be considered, for the sake of conciseness, as belonging respectively to the English and the Germans.

We have avowed a preference for the English philosophy. In respect to that of the Germans, the only proper question seems to be, whether it can be properly considered as any philosophy at all. A science grows either by the

way of analysis, by the evolution of new principles from those formerly known, or by extended observation embracing more facts, and bringing them, by a wider enunciation of the truth, into one view. Isolated truths are useless for scientific purposes. They do not enter into the body of our knowledge, until the relations connecting them with previous discoveries are perceived, and their due position being thus ascertained, the process of generalizing can be easily completed. But what is called a philosophical system is a thing by itself. If incomplete, it is nothing; it does not answer even its own end. If finished and connected, it must be founded on gratuitous hypotheses and arbitrary definitions; and it leaves the future inquirer nothing to do. No additions can be made, and the student must either sit quietly down in admiration of his predecessor's work, or must commence his task as an improver, by pulling down the whole edifice, to clear the ground for a new construction of his own. Hence, instead of advancing in knowledge, we have only a perpetual seesaw of old er

It is idle, therefore, for the favorers of such systems to talk of progress. The aim of every inquirer is, to reach by one bound the limits of human inquiry, and to demonstrate, that the utmost exertion of intellect can no farther go. “ His analysis is final ; his explanations are universal; his assertions absolute; his science entire." tem is not the stepping-stone to another, but a substitute for all that existed previously, and an impediment to future attempts. It is not a bridge, but a wall, or a precipice. Thus Kant, with great affectation of logical exactness, demonstrates the folly of all past, and the impossibility of all future, metaphysics. He transports us to a new point of view,- a Transcendental one, in philosophy, maintaining not merely that it is the only true, but the only possible, position. For the absolute certainty, which we seemed to possess on some topics, he substitutes a human and subjective conviction, sufficient indeed for our purposes, but in nowise conformable to the truth of things in them