'So that we are much beholden,' he continues, ' to Machiavel and others that write what men do, and not what they ought to do, [perhaps he refers here to that writer before quoted, who writes, others form men,— I report him ']; 'for it is not possible,' continues the proposer of the science of special duties of place, and vocation, and profession, the critic of this department, too,- it is not possible to join the serpentine wisdom with the columbine innocency, except men know exactly all the conditions of the serpent,— that is, all forms and natures of evil, for without this, virtue lieth open and unfenced. Nay, an honest man can do no good upon those that are wicked, to reclaim them, without the help of the knowledge of evil: for men of corrupted minds pre-suppose that honesty groweth out of simplicity of manners, and believing of preachers, schoolmasters, and men's exterior language; so as, except you can make them perceive that you know the utmost reaches of their own corrupt opinions, they despise all morality.' A book composed for the express purpose of meeting the difficulty here alluded to, has been already noticed in the preceding pages, on account of its being one of the most striking samples of that peculiar style of tradition, which the advancement of Learning prescribes, and here is another, in which the same invention and discovery appears to be indicated:-'Why I can teach you,' says a somewhat doubtful claimant to supernatural gifts:

'Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command

The devil.'

'And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil;
By telling truth;

If thou hast power to raise him, bring him hither,
And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence:
Oh, while you live, TELL TRUTH.'

But this is the style, in which the one before referred to, falls in with the humour of this Advancer of Learning. As to the rest, I have enjoined myself to dare to say, all that I dare to do, and even thoughts that are not to be published, displease me. The worst of my actions and qualities

do not appear to me so foul, as I find it foul and base not to dare to own them. Every one is wary and discreet in confession, but men ought to be so in action. I wish that this excessive license of mine, may draw men to freedom above these timorous and mincing pretended virtues, sprung from our imperfections, and that at the expense of my immoderation, I may reduce them to reason. A man must see and study his vice to correct it, they who conceal it from others, commonly conceal it from themselves and do not think it covered enough, if they themselves see it.... the diseases of the soul, the greater they are, keep themselves the more obscure; the most sick are the least sensible of them: for these reasons they must often be dragged into light, by an unrelenting and pitiless hand; they must be opened and torn from the caverns and secret recesses of the heart.' 'To meet the Huguenots, who condemn our auricular and private confession, I confess myself in public, religiously and purely, others have published the errors of their opinions, I of my manners. I am greedy of making myself known, and I care not to how many, provided it be truly; or rather, I hunger for nothing, but I mortally hate to be mistaken by those who happen to come across my name. He that does all things for honor and glory [as some great men in that time were supposed to,] what can he think to gain by showing himself to the world in a mask, and by concealing his true being from the people? Commend a hunchback for his fine shape, he has a right to take it for an affront: if you are a coward, and men commend you for your valor, is it of you that they speak? They take you for another. Archelaus, king of Macedon, walking along the street, somebody threw water on his head; which they who were with him said he ought to punish, 'Ay, but,' said the other, 'he did not throw the water upon me, but upon him whom he took me to be. Socrates being told that people spoke ill of him, 'Not at all,' said he, there is nothing in me of what they say! I am content to be less commended provided I am better known. I may be reputed a wise man, in such a sort of wisdom as I take to be folly,' Truly the Advancement of Learning would seem

to be not all in the hands of one person in this time. It appears, indeed, to have been in the hands of some persons who were not content with simply propounding it, and noting deficiencies, but who busied themselves with actively carrying out, the precise plan propounded. Here is one who does not content himself with merely criticising 'professions and vocations,' and suggesting improvements, but one who appears to have an inward call himself to the cure of diseases. Whoever he may be, and since he seems to care so very little for his name himself, and looks at it from such a philosophical point of view, we ought not, perhaps, to be too particular about it; whoever he may be, he is unquestionably a Doctor of the New School, the scientific school, and will be able to produce his diploma when properly challenged; whoever he may be, he belongs to the Globe,' for the manager of that theatre is incessantly quoting him, and dramatizing his philosophy, and he says himself, I look on all men as my compatriots, and prefer the universal and common tie to the national.'

But in marking out and indicating the plan and method of the new operation, which has for its end to substitute a scientific, in the place of an empirical procedure, in the main pursuits of human life, the philosopher does not limit himself in this survey of the special social duties to the special duties of professions and vocations. Unto this part,' he says, 'touching respective duty, doth also appertain the duties between husband and wife, parent and child, master and servant: so likewise the laws of friendship and gratitude, the civil bond of companies, colleges, and politic bodies, of neighbourhood, and all other proportionate duties; not as they are parts of a government and society, but as to the framing of the mind of particular persons.'

The reader will observe, that that portion of moral philosophy which is here indicated, contains, according to this index, some extremely important points, points which require learned treatment; and in our further pursuit of this inquiry, we shall find, that the new light which the science of nature in general throws upon the doctrine of the special duties and

upon these points here emphasized, has been most ably and elaborately exhibited by a contemporary of this philosopher, and in the form which he has so specially recommended,—with all that rhetorical power which he conceives to be the natural and fitting accompaniment of this part of learning. And the same is true also throughout of that which follows.

'The knowledge concerning good respecting society, doth handle it also not simply alone, but comparatively, whereunto belongeth the weighing of duties between person and person, case and case, particular and public: as we see in the proceeding of Lucius Brutus against his own sons, which was so much extolled, yet what was said?

Infelix utcunque ferent ea fata minores.

So the case was doubtful, and had opinion on both sides. [So the philosopher on the mountain tells us, too, for his common-place book and this author's happen to be the same.] Again we see when M. Brutus and Cassius invited to a supper certain whose opinions they meant to feel, whether they were fit to be made their associates, and cast forth the question touching the killing of a tyrant, - being an usurper, — they were divided in opinion'; [this of itself is a very good specimen of the style in which points are sometimes introduced casually in passing, and by way of illustration merely] some holding that servitude was the extreme of evils, and others that tyranny was better than a civil war; and this question also our philosopher of the mountain has considered very carefully from his retreat, weighing all the pros and cons of it. And it is a question which was treated also, as we all happen to know, in that other form of writing for which this author expresses so decided a preference, in which the art of the poet is brought in to enforce and impress the conclusion of the philosopher. Indeed, as we proceed further with the plan of this so radical part of the subject, we shall find, that the ground indicated has everywhere been taken up on the spot by somebody, and to purpose.

CHAPTER IV.

THE SCIENCE OF MORALITY.

§ II. THE HUSBANDRY THEREUNTO; OR, THE CURE AND

BUT

UT we have finished now with what he has to say here of the EXEMPLAR or science of GOOD, and its kinds, and degrees, and the comparison of them, the good that is proper to the individual, and the good that includes society. He has found much fine work on that platform of virtue, and felicity, - excellent exemplars, the purest doctrine, the loftiest virtue, tried by the scientific standard. And though he has gone behind those popular names of vice and virtue, pain and pleasure, and the like, in which these doctrines begin, to the more simple and original forms, which the doctrine of nature in general and its laws supplies, for a platform of moral science, his doctrine is large enough to include all these works, in all their excellence, and give them their true place. A reviewer so discriminating, then, so far from that disposition to scorn and censure, which he reprehends, so careful to conserve that which is good in his scientific constructions and reformations, so pure in judgment in discovering and severing that which is corrupt, a reporter so clearly scientific, who is able to maintain through all this astounding report of the deficiences in human learning, a tone so quiet, so undemonstrative, such a one deserves the more attention when he comes now to the art and practic part' of this great science, to which all other sciences are subordinate, and declares to us that he finds it, as a part of science, 'WANTING!' not defective, but wanting.

'Now, therefore, that we have spoken of this FRUIT of LIFE,