of that state of the brain which is the cion, have held more or less definitely immediate cause of that act. We are the view that man is a conscious automaconscious automata, endowed with free- ton. will in the only intelligible sense of that much-abused term - inasmuch as in many respects we are able to do as we like but none the less parts of the great series of causes and effects which, in unbroken continuity, composes that which is, and has been, and shall be growth of physical science has introduced the sum of existence. As to the logical consequences of this conviction of mine, I may be permitted to remark that logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons It is held, for example, in substance, by the whole school of predestinarian theologians, typified by St. Augustine, Calvin, and Jonathan Edwards the great work of the latter on the will showing in this, as in other cases, that the no new difficulties of principle into theological problems, but has merely given visible body, as it were, to those which already existed. Among philosophers, the pious Geuof wise men. The only question which lincx and the whole school of occasionalany wise man can ask himself, and which ist Cartesians held this view; the orthoany honest man will ask himself, is dox Leibnitz invented the term "autowhether a doctrine is true or false. Con- mate spirituel," and applied it to man; sequences will take care of themselves; the fervent Christian, Hartley, was one at most their importance can only justify of the chief advocates and best expositus in testing with extra care the reasoning process from which they result. CONCERNING THE Philosophers accustomed to judge of things by that which they are in themselves, and not by their relation to received ideas, would not be shocked if they met with the proposition that the soul is a mere spectator of the movements of its body: that the latter performs of itself all that series of actions which constitutes life: that it moves of itself: that it is the body alone which reproduces ideas, compares and arranges them; which forms reasonings, imagines and executes plans of all kinds, &c. This hypothesis, though perhaps of an excessive boldness, nevertheless deserves tors of the doctrine; while another zealous apologist of Christianity in a sceptiSo that if the view I have taken did cal age, and a contemporary of Hartley, really and logically lead to fatalism, ma- Charles Bonnet, the Genevese naturalist, terialism, and atheism, I should profess has embodied the doctrine in language myself a fatalist, materialist, and atheist; of such precision and simplicity, that I and I should look upon those who, while will quote the little-known passage of his they believed in my honesty of purpose" Essai de Psychologie" at length: and intellectual competency, should raise a hue and cry against me, as people who ANOTHER HYPOTHESIS by their own admission preferred lying to truth, and whose opinions therefore were unworthy of the smallest attention. But, as I have endeavoured to explain on other occasions, I really have no claim to rank myself among fatalistic, materialistic, or atheistic philosophers. Not among fatalists, for I take the conception of necessity to have a logical, and not a physical foundation; not among materialists, for I am utterly incapable of conceiving the existence of matter if there is no mind in which to picture that existence; not among atheists, for the problem of the ultimate cause of existence is one which seems to me to be hopelessly out of reach of my poor powers. Of all the senseless babble I have ever had oc- I understand by external actions, all those casion to read, the demonstrations of those philosophers who undertake to tell us all about the nature of God would be the worst, if they were not surpassed by the still greater absurdities of the philosophers who try to prove that there is no some consideration. could create an automaton which should exIt is not to be denied that Supreme Power actly imitate all the external and internal actions of man. movements which pass under our eyes; I term internal actions, all the motions which in the natural state cannot be observed because they take place in the interior of the bodysuch as the movements of digestion, circulathis category the movements which give rise tion, sensation, &c. Moreover, I include in to ideas, whatever be their nature. In the automaton which we are considering everything would be precisely determined. Everything would occur according to the rules of the most admirable mechanism: one state Essai de Psychologie, chap. xxvii. would succeed another state, one operation | actions, be conciliated with this hypothesis? would lead to another operation, according to If it removes the difficulty which attends the invariable laws; motion would become alter-conception of the action of the soul on the nately cause and effect, effect and cause; reaction would answer to action, and reproduction to production. Constructed with definite relations to the activity of the beings which compose the world, the automaton would receive impressions from it, and, in faithful correspondence thereto, it would execute a corresponding series of motions. body, on the other hand it leaves untouched that which meets us in endeavouring to conceive the action of the body on the soul. But if Leibnitz, Jonathan Edwards, and Hartley-men who rank among the giants of the world of thought-could see no antagonism between the doctrine under discussion and Christian orthoIndifferent towards any determination, it doxy, is it not just possible that smaller would yield equally to all, if the first impres- folk may be wrong in making such a coil sions did not, so to speak, wind up the ma- about "logical consequences"? And, chine and decide its operations and its course. seeing how large a share of this clamour The series of movements which this automa- is raised by the clergy of one denominaton could execute would distinguish it from all others formed on the same model, but which tion or another, may I say, in conclusion, not having been placed in similar circum- that it really would be well if ecclesiastistances would not have experienced the same cal persons would reflect that ordination, impressions, or would not have experienced | whatever deep-seated graces it may conthem in the same order. fer, has never been observed to be fol the senses. The motions of perception and sensation which the objects would have impressed on the brain, would be preserved in it by the energy of its mechanism. They would become more vivid according to the actual condition of the automaton, considered in itself and relatively to the objects. The senses of the automaton, set in motion lowed by any visible increase in the learnby the objects presented to it, would commu-jing or the logic of its subject. Making nicate their motion to the brain, the chief a man a bishop, or entrusting him with motor apparatus of the machine. This would the office of ministering to even the put in action the muscles of the hands and feet, in virtue of their secret connection with largest of Presbyterian congregations, or These muscles, alternately con- setting him up to lecture to a church contracted and dilated, would approximate or gress, really does not in the smallest deremove the automaton from the objects, in the gree augment such title to respect as his relation which they would bear to the conserva- opinions may intrinsically possess. And tion or the destruction of the machine. when such a man presumes on an authority which was conferred upon him for other purposes, to sit in judgment upon matters his incompetence to deal with which is patent, it is permissible to ignore his sacerdotal pretensions, and to tell him, as one would tell a mere common, unconsecrated, layman: that it is not necessary for any man to occupy himself with problems of this kind unless he so choose. Life is filled full enough by the performance of its ordinary and obvious duties. But that, if a man elect to become a judge of these grave questions; still more, if he assume the responsibility of attaching praise or blame to his fellow-men for the conclusions at which they they arrive touching them, he will commit a sin more grievous than most breaches of the Decalogue, unless he avoid a lazy reliance upon the information that is gathered by prejudice and filtered through passion, unless he go back to the prime sources of knowledge Words being only the motions impressed on the organ of hearing and that of voice, the diversity of these movements, their combination, the order in which they would succeed one another, would represent judgments, reasoning, and all the operations of the mind. A close correspondence between the organs of the senses, either by the opening into one another of their nervous ramifications, or by interposed springs (ressorts), would establish such a connection in their working, that, on the occasion of the movements impressed on one of these organs, other movements would be excited, or would become more vivid in some of the other senses. Give the automaton a soul which contemplates its movements, which believes itself to be the author of them, which has different volitions on the occasion of the different movements, and you will on this hypothesis construct a man. But would this man be free? Can the feel ing of our liberty, this feeling which is so clear and so distinct and so vivid as to persuade us that we are the authors of our the facts of nature, and the thoughts of those wise men who for generations past have been her best interpreters. T. H. HUXLEY. From Blackwood's Magazine. A TALE OF THE SOUTH DOWNS. CHAPTER XLVI. IN those old times of heavy pounding, scanty food, and great hardihood, when war was not accounted yet as one of the exact sciences, and soldiers slept, in all sorts of weather, without so much as a blanket round them, much less a snug tent overhead, the duties of the different branches of the services were not quite so distinct as they are now. Lieutenant Lorraine-for the ladies had given overrapid promotion when they called him their "brave captain"—had not rejoined his regiment long before he obtained acknowledgment of his good and gallant actions. Having proved that he could sit a horse, see distinctly at long distance, and speak the Spanish language fairly thanks to the two young Donnas - and possessed some other accomplishments (which would now be tested by paper work), he received an appointment upon the staff, not of the Light Division, but at headquarters, under the very keen eyes of "the hero of a hundred fights." If the brief estimate of his compeers is of any importance to a man of powerful genius as no doubt it must be, by its effect on his opportunities then the Iron Duke, though crowned with good luck (as everybody called each triumph of his skill and care), certainly seems to have been unlucky as to the date of his birth and work. "Providence in its infinite wisdom" to use a phrase of the Wesleyans, who claim the great general as of kin to their own courageous founder produced him at a time, no doubt, when he was uncommonly needful; but when (let him push his fame as he would, by victory after victory) there always was a more gigantic, because a more voracious, glory marching far in front of him. Our great hero never had the chance of terrifying the world by lopping it limb by limb and devouring it; and as real glory is the child of terror (begotten upon it by violence), the fame of Wellington could never vie with Napoleon's glory. deur of his name grew slowly (as the fame of Marcellus grew), like a tree in the hidden lapse of time; and perhaps no other general ever won so many victories before his country began to dream that he could be victorious. Now this great man was little, if at all, inferior to his mighty rival in that prime necessity of a commander-insight into his material. He made a point of learning exactly what each of his officers was fit for; and he seldom failed, in all his warfare, to put the "right man in the right place." He saw at a glance that Lieutenant Lorraine was a gallant and chivalrous young fellow, active and clever in his way, and likely to be very useful on the staff after a little training. And so many young aids had fallen lately, or were upon the sick-list, that the quartermaster-general was delighted with a recruit so intelligent and zealous as Hilary soon proved himself. And after a few lessons in his duties, he set him to work with might and main to improve his knowledge of "colloquial French." With this Lorraine, having gift of tongues, began to grow duly familiar; and the more so perhaps because his knowledge of "epistolary English" afforded him very little pleasure just now. For all his good principles and kind feelings must have felt rude shock and shame, when he read three letters from England which reached him on the very same day at Valladolid. The first was from his uncle Struan; and after making every allowance for the rector's want of exercise in the month of August, Hilary (having perhaps a little too much exercise himself) could not help feeling that the tone was scarcely so hearty as usual. The letter was mainly as follows: "WEST LORRAINE, 20th Aug. 1812. "MY DEAR NEPHEW,- Your father and myself have not been favoured with any letters from you for a period of several months. Is appears to me that this is neither dutiful nor affectionate; although we know that you have been wounded, which increased our anxiety. You may have been too bad to write, and I wish to make all allowance for you. To him, however, this mattered little, But where there is a will, there is a way. except that it often impaired his means When I was at Oxford, few men perhaps of discharging his duty thoroughly. His in all the university felt more distaste present duty was to clear the Peninsula than I did for original Latin composition. of Frenchmen; and this he would per- Yet every Saturday, when we went to hall haps have done in a quarter of the time to get our battel-bills-there was my it cost, if his own country had only shown essay, neatly written, and of sound due faith in his abilities. But the gran-Latinity.". Come, come," cried Lor raine; cool, my dear "I cannot expect any young man, of course," continued the worthy parson, "to make such efforts for conscience' sake, as in my young days were made cheerfully. But this indolence and dislike of the pen furca expellendum est' must be expelled with a knife and fork. Perhaps you will scarcely care to hear that your aunt and cousins are doing well. After your exploits your memory seems to have grown very short of poor folk in old England. Your birthday falling on a Sunday this year, I took occasion to allude in the course of my sermon to a mural crown, of which I remember to have heard at school. Nobody knew what I meant; but many were more affected than if they did. But, after all, it requires, to my mind, quite as much courage, and more skill, to take a dry wall properly, when nobody has been over it, than to scramble into Badajos. Alice will write to you by this post, and tell you all the gossip of the sad old house, if there is any. There seems to be nobody now with life enough to make much gossip. And all that we hear is about Captain Chapman, (who means to have Alice,) and about yourself. truth, and became so violent and used such unbecoming language, that I thought it the more clerical course to leave him to reflect upon it. On the following Sunday I discoursed upon the third chapter of the Epistle of St. James; but there was only Alice in the Coombe pew. I saw, however, that she more than once turned away her face with shame, although I certainly did not discover any tears. It is to be hoped that she gave Sir Roland an accurate summary of my discourse; none of which (as I explained to your dear aunt after the service) was intended for my own domestic hearth. Since that time I have not had the pleasure of meeting Sir Roland Lorraine in private life. "And now a few words as to your own conduct. Your memory is now so bad that you may have forgotten what I did for you. At a time when my parish and family were in much need of my attention, and two large coveys of quite young birds were lying every night in the corner of the Hays, I left my home in extremely hot weather, simply to be of use to you. My services may have been trifling; but at that time you did not think so. It was not my place to interfere in a matter which was for your father's decision. But I so far committed myself, that if you are fool enough "About you it is said, though I cannot and knave enough for I never mince believe it, and must be ashamed of you language, as your father does to repuwhen I do so, that you are making a fool diate your engagement with a charming of yourself with a Spanish lady of birth and sensible girl for the sake of highand position, but a rank, idolatrous, big-flying but low-minded Papists, much of oted Papist! The Lorraines have been always sadly heterodox in religious matters, from agé to age receiving every whim they came across of. They have taken to astrology, Mahomet, destiny, and the gods of Greece, and they never seem to know when to stop. The only true Church, the Church of England, never has any hold of them; and if you would marry a Papist, Hilary, it would be a judgment. the disgrace will fall on me. "And what are those Spanish families (descended perhaps from Don Quixote, or even Sancho Panza) to compare with Kentish landowners, who derive their title from the good old Danes? And what are their women when they get yellow-as they always do before twentyfive-compared with an Englishwoman, who generally looks her best at forty? And not only that (for after all that is "Your father, perhaps, would be very a secondary question, as a man grows glad of any looseness of mind and sense wise), but is a southern foreigner likely that might have the power to lead you to make an Englishman happy? Even astray from my ideas of honour. I have if she becomes converted from her had a little explanation with him; in the image-worship (about which they are course of which, as he used stronger lan- very obstinate), can she keep his house guage than I at all approve of, I ventured for him? Can she manage an English to remind him that from the very outset servant? can she order a dinner? does I had charged him with what I call this she even know when a bed is aired? can low intention, this design of working upon a gentleman dine and sleep at her house your fickle and capricious temper, to after a day's hunting, without having make you act dishonourably. Your poor rheumatism, gout, and a bilious attack in father was much annoyed at this home-the morning? All this, you will think, can be managed by deputy; and in very no doubt your father will come to a large places it must be so. But I have proper state of mind before the first. been a guest in very large places very Do not take amiss, my dear boy, whatmuch finer than Coombe Lorraine, how-ever I may have said for your good. ever your father may have scoffed at me; Scribe cito. Responde cras.- Your lovand I can only say that I would rather being uncle, S. H.” the guest of an English country squire, or even a parson, with a clever and active wife at the head of his table, than of a duke with a grand French cook, and a duchess who never saw a dust-pan. "And if you should marry a Spaniard, where are you to get your grand establishment? Your father never saves a farthing, and you are even less likely to do so. And as for the lady, she of course will have nothing. 'My blood is blue because I have no breeches,' says one of their poets, feelingly; and that is the case with all of them. Whereas I have received a little hint, it does not matter the will of a bachelor banker at Ton bridge. Her father and mother do not know it, neither do any of her family; but I did not pass my very pleasant holiday in that town for nothing. Every one seemed to understand me, and I was thoroughly pleased with all of them. All this long epistle was read by Hilary in the saddle; for he had two horses allowed him now - whenever he could get them—and now he was cantering with an order to an outpost of the advancedguard tracking the rear of Clausel. They the few men who ever defied, and yet knew not yet what Clausel was,—one of staff was weak just now, though freshly escaped from Wellington. The British recruited with Frenchman might not have succeeded in Hilary, or haply the his brilliant movement. "He must be terribly put out," said how or where, that Mabel Lovejoy (who young Lorraine, meaning neither Clausel, is much too good for any fickle jacka-his uncle Struan; "there is not a word nor Wellington, nor Napoleon even, but napes) is down for a nice round sum in of any paragon dog, nor the horses he Cecil. He must have had a great row has bought or chopped, or even little with my father, and he visits it on this generation. How can he have heard of angelic Claudia, and connect her with garlic? My darling, I know what you are, though heavy-seated Britons fail to soar to such perfection! Now for Alice, I suppose. She will know how to behave, I should hope. Why, how she begins, as times removed! And how precious short if I were her thirty-second cousin ten it is! But what a beautifully clear firm "But I shall not be pleased at all with you, and in good truth you never shall darken my door, if you yield yourself bound hand and foot to any of those Dulcineas, or rather Delilahs. I have known a good many Spaniards, when Nelson was obliged to take them pris-hand!" oners; they are a dirty, lazy lot, unfit to ride anything but mules, and they poison the air with garlic. "Your aunt and cousins, who have read this letter, say that I have been too hard upon you. The more they argue the more I am convinced that I have been far too lenient. So that I will only add their loves, and remain, my dear nephew, your affectionate uncle, Το "MY DEAR HILARY,- My father, not having any time to spare just now, and having received no letter from you which he might desire to answer, has asked me to say that we are quite well, and that we are very glad to hear that you seem to have greatly distinguished yourself. hear this must always be, as you will feel, a pleasure and true pride to us. At the "STRUAN HALES. same time we have been very anxious, “P.S.— We expect a very grand shoot- because you have been returned in the ing season. Last year, through the "Gazette" as heavily wounded. We drought and heat, there was not a good hope, however, that it is not so, for we turnip-field in the parish. Birds were have been favoured with a very long letvery numerous, as they always are in hotter from Major Clumps of your regiment seasons, but there was no getting near to my grandmother's dear friend, Lady them. This season the turnips are up to de Lampnor, in which you were spoken my knees. How I wish that you were of most highly; and since that he has here, instead of popping at the red legs! not spoken of you, as he must have done, Through the great kindness of young if you were wounded. Pray let us hear Steenie Chapman I am to have free war-at once what the truth is. Uncle Struan ren of all Sir Remnant's vast estates! was very rude to my father about you the But I like the home-shooting best; and other day, and used the most violent |