blood, can it be a guide to our actions. A great philosopher has said: 'You may adopt all the signs of highest enlightenment, and still not be as enlightened as he who has the little he possesses well founded in his brain.'

Your cognition must become an instinct which will drive you on to action; but, not as the other instincts, now to good, and now to bad actions; but always to the same. In this sense we can understand Professor Huxley's words:1 'It is important, not so much to know a thing, as to have known it, and known it thoroughly.' You may not remember a single date in history, and still have a keener and a more philosophical sense for history, a stronger power of sympathy with a distant age, than he who knows every historical event, every date, every name by heart. A dialogue of Plato; a Parthenon frieze; an ode of Horace; a canto from Dante; a stiff, angular picture of Albrecht Dürer; a troubadour's song, or one of Hans Sachs, the master of the poets' guild; a scene from Molière, or a pastel of Boucher; a novel of Fielding;-these may waft to you a fresh odour from the Academy gardens, or the Acropolis in old Athens; a warm breeze from Tiburnum; a reviving breath of the Renaissance; a soft and strong rustling in the branches of a middle-aged oak; a whiff of air from under some stiff Gothic arch of old Nürnberg, where each profession had its garb; a puff of perfume from the handkerchief of an enamelled, high-heeled Rococo lady; and the sound of a heavy well-meant oath, of an old English country gentleman.

1 American Addresses.

SECTION III.-SCIENCE AND ART.

mood, is Art and

To produce such an entire frame of mind, a the remoter aim of Science, as it is of Art. Science correspond to some extent respectively to Feeling and Cognition, and, like them, are apt to be too strongly opposed to one another. This, however, as we shall see, is also a mistake.

Both must bring forth a whole mood of mind in order to impel us to action,1 but they fulfil the same end from different directions: the one-Science-through single representations, brings forth a mood; the other, through a mood, enables us to form single representations. Here, too, I must remark that in some instances the line between Art and Science is very difficult to be drawn some art has so much of the scientific element in it, and some science so much of the artistic. Some parts of Shakespeare are so deep, that we cannot say whether it is beauty or truth that moves us; the architecture of some of Mr. Herbert Spencer's books is so beautiful, that for some moments we cannot tell whether it be the harmony of form or depth of meaning that impresses us. But let us take extreme instances, where we can more readily draw the line. Let us take Logic and Music.

A chapter of Mill, through many single thoughts, at least if we have mastered it, brings forth a mood, which may have its effect upon our actions: through

1

1 By action, I mean both inward mental action (thought) and outwardlymanifest action.

numerous ideas we may arrive at a general mood, and so Logic may become a guide to conduct. Our cognitions must become emotional.

A fine piece of music, with far greater directness, puts us into a certain mood, relatively vague; but out of this mood, again, we can call forth single ideas. Who, on hearing a fugue of Bach, can help seeing before his mind's eye some more or less graphic representation of a vast interweaving of sound, well bounded by a strict and almost Philistine sense of order and law? Who can hear a great sonata or symphony of Beethoven without numerous pictures pressing themselves forward upon his attention, it may be, half-consciously and involuntarily? Who has heard a Hungarian rhapsody of Liszt, and has not heard the sound of the Lower Danube, a melancholy, deeply sentimental strain, or a sudden bacchanalian outburst from the land of the Magyars?

There is unmistakably a tendency in the development of Music to define and hedge in the field of ideas thus conveyed by it; as the language of words must have grown more and more distinct, gaining more and more power to mark out particular portions of the large vague classes formerly denoted. Our general moods stimulate to special cognitions.

Science and Art are not the implacable foes that seek to possess the mind exclusively, or not at all; they are friends that extend hands to greet one another, and strive together for the advancement of humanity. Were a scientific work not harmonious in its structure it would not be what we call clear; the deepest truth in

the philosopher's brain must take a harmonious shape in order to become clear to others, and even to himself. And the most laboured conception of art will be monstrous, and can never call forth in us the feeling of beauty if it be not one executed according to fact and nature.

As a true point of difference within the agreement between Science and Art, we may mention that Art qua Art (ie. the less it adopts the means of Science, as Poetry uses logical language) calls forth representations arising out of the mood, which are not directly and essentially determined by the stimuli which evoked the mood, so that, as we have seen, the mood caused by the hearing of a piece of music may call forth anything but musical representations. But the cognitions resulting from the scientific mood will be directly and essentially determined by its stimuli to that mood.

If Emotion is thus the stimulus to all action, it is unreasonable to suppose that, as long as we can conceive human mind and human action, it will be or ought to be repressed, and that we can get on with the guiding power alone.

CHAPTER II.

SECTION I-COMMON AND SCIENTIFIC THOUGHT (ORIGIN OF SCIENCE.)

I MAINTAIN that this marked antithesis of Intellect and Emotion is a typical instance of a fallacy, as common as it is easily committed, as readily accepted as it is pernicious in its results upon thought. It is the fallacy with respect to the Opposition of Propositions, which consists in not distinguishing the contrary of a proposition from the contradictory of it. There groups around this pair of contradictories, Intellect and Emotion, mistaken for contraries, a number of similar correlatives, similarly misconceived. And, avowed or merely tacitly implied, these antitheses are related, be it as cause or as effect, to the fundamental opposition of Intellect and Emotion. Such correlatives thus misused are, e.g. Theory and Practice, Common and Scientific Thought, Science and Practical Life—and even Philosophy and the Exact Sciences.

Apart from the interest attached to an elucidation of these questions themselves, they have such an immediate bearing upon our more restricted topic, that to overlook them would be like contemplating the central piece of a landscape and closing our eyes to the