suspicion that he might be a liar, to an inquiry whether in his now-to-be-made statement he intends to be truthful or not, but rather asks for permission to consider whether there might not be possible exceptions to his truthfulness, is already a liar in potentia; since he shows that he does not recognize truthfulness as a duty in itself, but keeps in mind exceptions to a rule which in its nature admits of no exceptions, since in admitting them it would directly contradict itself.

All legal-practical principles must contain strict truth, and the here so-called middle principle can contain only a closer determination of their application to occurring cases according to rules of policy, but never exceptions, since exceptions annihilate that universality on account whereof alone they are called principles.

THE REJECTED LOVER.

By JOHN ALBEE.

I heard that in this land were many poor,
Therefore I sought them out from door to door.

Methought I had a gift would comfort give,
And make them wish on earth to longer live.

My gift I offered freely everywhere

To those who some deep want did seem to bear,

But all in vain; for only ampler store

Of gold they wished whereby to heap up more.

My gift was love- which they must needs pass by
Since it exacts the largest usury.

LECTURES ON THE PHILOSOPHY OF LAW.

By JAMES HUTCHISON STIRLING.

II.

Freedom of the Will and Idea of Property.

GENTLEMEN:- At our last meeting we saw the Notion of Hegel, and in its connection with Kant; for I still believe Hegel to affiliate himself in the main directly to Kant. Let him owe what he may, principally by way of suggestion, whether to Fichte or Schelling, it is really Kant's substance that Hegel carries further. We saw that an excellent clue to that Notion was explanation as explanation. Explanation, namely, as explanation, is a reduction to self-consciousness, and it follows that we have reached the ultimate when we have reduced self-consciousness to its ultimate. Now, that is the Notion. Or, the notion is an act of self-consciousness as such-the perfect generalization of such act. This, then, is the creative germ of all and everything; and, as such evidently it can be no blank self-identity: it must possess, in its own self, difference; and it must return from this its difference into that its identity again. No act of self-consciousness whatever but is seen to exemplify this abstract description. Self-consciousness so constituted, then, is conceived to develop itself, in obedience to its own inner law, first into its own inner system. This, the realization of the logical notion, is, and in connection with that notion, the logical idea. The idea now, as completed inner system, sunders, in Nature, into the externalization of its own self and of all its constituents-into a chaos, then, of infinite physical difference and infinite physical contingency. This chaos, however, re-collects itself, and returns in Spirit (Mind) to the Universal again. Mind now, or Spirit, appears in a succession of faculties, and rises through its subjective and objective forms into its absolute form-into Absolute Spirit. Subjectively, more particularly, it reaches, through stages of Perception, Conception, Thought, the full fruition of theoretical intelligence, and it is at the transition of this into Practical Spirit, into Will, that we have now arrived.

This transition it will not be difficult to understand, if we shall but fairly realize to ourselves what the completion of theory is. Theory when complete, that is, has converted its objects into itself. The objects of theory are indeed outer, but when it understands them it has fairly made them inner: all that they truly are, all that they substantially are, is now within. It has abolished their alienation, their foreignness; it has made them its-it has determined them its-it has determined objects as its. But intelligence that determines objects is Will. This is Hegel's transition from what we know in common parlance as the intellectual powers to what we know in the same parlance as the active powers, or this is Hegel's transition from theory to practice, from what he calls theoretical spirit or intelligence to practical spirit or will. We see at once that it is ingenious--that it is ingeniously figurative. Theory surveys an object, and enjoys its survey; but the result of such survey is to make the outward inward; and, if the outward is inward, it is theory's own, it is determined by theory, which is now will, and its enjoyment has become an act. Hegel, of course, does not expect us to see in this transition an actual fact in time, but only the potential connection of intelligence and will, only their connection sub specie æternitatis. And viewed so, it is perfectly credible; for intelligence and will are not in reality different, but the same: they are but action and counter-action of the same common life. Where the one is, the other is: will is but thought in act, thought is but will in potentia. It is, therefore, true in an absolute, or perfectly general, reference, that thought of itself determines itself into will, remaining at the same time the substance of it-of will. This, I think, will be seen to be true from the very nature of the case, and apart from the ingenious figurativeness of Hegel's steps, which are again briefly these: To think an object is to understand it. The thinking of an object, then, is the birth of a new object out of or in the old object. But this new object belongs to thought; and this new object is at the same time all that is true in the old object. This new object is all that the old object really is--this new object is, in fact, the old object. But thought has thus manifested itself to determine an object, and thought that determines an object is will.

Will, then, is thought determining itself out of its own self into objects, or, as we more generally figure it, into action on objects--a difference of phrase, however, that makes no difference in the facts; for, as we have just seen, our action on objects is to determine these objects as our own, They are, indeed, outer to us; but, in that we understand them, we enter into them, we participate in them, we establish a community between them and us; that is, we make them ours.

But, though there be this intimate connection between them, it is certain that will does not, in the first instance, appear as thought-appear, that is, on the stage of existence. Will, as we first find it, is, like everything else, in a state of nature. Will, as we so find it, even in man, is rather an instinct than a rational thought. The needs and greeds of the mere animal are the matter in which it first asserts itself. Nevertheless, man is essentially reason, and, even in yielding to these needs and greeds, it is reason that comes gradually to the front. For example, will cannot yield even to these needs and greeds without reflection, and reflection once begun can only end in full-fledged reason. The needs and greeds are compared with their objects and the means of obtaining these. They are compared with each other. They are compared, however vaguely at first, with the chief end of manthought, reason—which, in all cases, is always at least implicitly present. The result of this comparison on the part of reflection is a subordination and classification of the various needs and greeds, of the various desires-a subordination and classification that can only end in System. This system now is what we call happiness, and the needs and greeds, accordingly as they variously contribute in quality and quantity to happiness, are variously arranged and valued. But, after all, this arrangement never becomes perfect, never becomes satisfactory. The needs and greeds are even infinite; subject differs from subject in regard to them; according to times and seasons, subject differs from his own self in regard to them; the whole quest of what is called happiness manifests itself to be indefinite, obscure, and contingent; and let it end in what criterion it may, this criterion remains always an enjoyment, something subjective and contingent, something limited. In this way, then, it becomes plain that will can

never content itself with what is called happiness as a final aim, and that there must be found for it an object wider, deeper, and more essential. This object can only be its own self. The only satisfactory final object to will can only be will. This is one of those expressions that is peculiarly perplexing and distressing to the English reader of the philosophical Germans. The difficulty, however, is only in the phrase and not in its import. As we have already seen, will is identical with thought, with reason; and when we substitute these synonyms in the phrase that "will only can, only will will," all ambiguity vanishes. That the object of the will should be will: this may appear an empty phrase, but it is not so when we say the object of reason is reason. Reason, we know, has realized itself in the world around us, in God's world; and it does not seem strange, with that fact before us, to say reason seeks reason. But reason has also realized itself in the world of man, in its body of laws, in its code of morals, in the general arrangements of what is called the State. Now when we know that it is will which has realized reason in law, morals, and state, it will no longer appear absurd to say will realizes its own self; the object of will is will, or will wills will. It will at once suggest itself to us, then, that the will so spoken of is thinking will, and thinking will is free-will.

Of course, as we are all now educated in Great Britain, this is considered by all of us, or all but all of us, an absurdity; the supposition of free-will is an absurdity. Most modern English authorities are of this opinion, and they really have brought their public to the same opinion. Now, this state of opinion on the part whether of author or reader, results from making judicious play with what are called motives. We never act, it is said, but from a motive; this motive presents itself to us by necessity of the case, and it involves us in a like necessity. Some few writers seem to doubt this, and not to be sure that they cannot act without motives. Mr. Alexander, not long since, fairly posed Mr. Mill by asking him, "Having touched the left side of your nose, do you not feel that you could have touched the right instead?" Notwithstanding the fairness of the question, and the earnestness of the "Yes" or "No" with which it was followed up, Mr.