his long life may be supposed to be summed up, is a work so wide

in its range, so complicated in its details, and so mystical in its tone, that an intelligible analysis of it is a scarcely practicable achievement. It may be more instructive, as well as more practicable, to confine ourselves to a smaller field—to consider, namely, the main point at issue between Schelling and some of the leading philosophers of this country. Perhaps some light will be thrown on his philosophy, its drift and purpose will perhaps become apparent in our attempt, not indeed to settle, but to adjust the terms of this dispute.

It is admitted on all hands, that truth of one kind or another is the proper aim of philosophy. But there are two kinds of truth: truth as it exists in itself, and truth as it exists in relation to us. The first of these is called technically the unconditioned; the latter the conditioned. According to Schelling, unconditioned truth is the proper object of philosophy. According to his opponents (of whom Sir W. Hamilton may be cited as the most distinguished) conditioned truth is the only proper and possible object of philosophy (see Hamilton's Discussions, art., "The Philosophy of the Unconditioned:" also page 643). Such is the precise and primary point at issue between the two philosophers.

We have now to state and examine the grounds on which each belligerent respectively supports his opinion. Hamilton's opinion is grounded on the assumption that whatever man knows he knows only in relation, that is, only in relation to his own faculties of knowledge. He can, therefore, apprehend only relative or conditioned truth. The unconditioned (truth in itself) is beyond his grasp. But it is plain that this argument proves too much; it proves that the unconditioned truth is equally beyond the grasp of Omniscience; because it is surely manifest that omniscience can know things only in relation to itself; and therefore Omniscience is just as incompetent as man is to apprehend the unconditioned, if this must be apprehended out of all relation to intelligence. If that be the idea of the unconditioned, Schelling's conception of philosophy must be given up, and Hamilton's must be accepted. But the surrender of the one and the acceptance of the other involves the admission that the truth in itself cannot be known even by the Supreme reason. That is the reductio to which Hamilton's argument brings us.

To escape this conclusion, then, we must not understand the unconditioned as that which is exempt from all relation; we must view it as that which stands in some sort of relation to intelligence. Viewing it otherwise, we fall into the absurdity touched upon in the preceding paragraph

If the truth in itself is not to be regarded as that which is placed out of all relation to intellect, it must, no less than the other kind of truth (the conditioned), be regarded as that which stands in some sort of relation to intellect; so that the distinction between truth unconditioned and truth conditioned thus resolves itself into the distinction between truth in relation to intelligence simply (ἅπλως), and truth in relation to our intelligence. And the point of the controversy now comes before us in this shape:—Can man apprehend the truth as it exists in relation to pure intelligence—to intelligence considered simply as such? or can he apprehend the truth only as it exists in relation to his intelligence, considered as a peculiar kind or mode of intellect? Now, although it is not clear that Schelling and his opponents have ever joined issue explicitly on this question, it is undoubtedly the question properly in dispute between them. Schelling argues in favour of the former alternative. He holds that philosophy is the pursuit of truth as it stands related to pure intellect, i.e., to intellect considered universally, and as not modified in any particular way: he holds that man is competent to the attainment of such truth, and that such truth is absolute and unconditioned. The other party (among whom we venture to place Hamilton) maintains that philosophy is the pursuit of truth as it stands related to our minds considered as a particular kind or form of intelligence—that man can attain to no other truth than this, and that this truth is relative and conditioned.

These respective conclusions rest on grounds which have now to be considered as forming the ultimate stage in the adjustment of this controversy. Schelling's ground is that there is a common nature or quality in all intelligence; that man, through his participation in this common nature, is, so far, a pure—that is, a nonparticular or universal intelligence, and hence is, so far, capable of cognizing universal or unconditioned truth. That Schelling has worked out this doctrine explicitly, or even intelligibly, is not to be maintained. But "the intellectual intuition" which he ascribes to man is undoubtedly his expression for the mind considered as a pure intelligence, and as having something in common with all other intelligences, whether actual or possible. The "intellectual intuition" is opposed to the sensational intuition, the latter denoting that part of the mental economy which is more peculiarly man's own, or human. Schelling's opponents, on the other hand, must be prepared to hold and to show that there is no nature common to all intelligence—that the different orders of minds (supposing that there are such) have no point of unity or agreement—that their difference is absolute and complete. This is the only logical ground on which they can deny to the mind of man all cognizance of the unconditioned truth. Such seem to be the grounds on which the famous question respecting the philosophy of the unconditioned has to be debated. We have offered no opinion on the merits of the case. But the victory is Schelling's if he has succeeded in showing, or if it be admitted, that every intelligence has something in common, some point or points of resemblance, with every other intelligence (for that is the fundamental question, the decision of which decides all); while again, his opponents must be pronounced triumphant if they have proved that intelligent natures differ from each other entirely, and have no point or principle in common. On both sides the terms of the dispute, as here adjusted, have been only partially adhered to. Schelling often loses himself in the unintelligible; his opponents have not seen the exact point of the problem: so that the "philosophy of the unconditioned" still calls for a patient and impartial reconsideration.

The philosophical character and influence of Schelling are well summed up by Mr. Morell in the following remarks (see Modern German Philosophy; Manchester papers, 1856):—"The later phases of Schelling's philosophy," says Morell, "are chiefly characterized by unavailing attempts to reconcile the pantheistic standpoint which he first assumed, with the notion of a personal Deity, and with the fundamental dogmas of the catholic faith. In doing this he lost the freshness and charm of his first philosophic principles on the one hand, without solving the problem of religion, or satisfying the practical religious requirements of humanity on the other. He merely glided step by step into a strained, unintelligible mysticism, and, without acknowledging it, became a foe to all purely philosophic speculation, and a tacit abettor of an antique romanticism. The followers of Schelling formed two distinct schools. Those who attached themselves to his Natur-philosophie (such as Oken, Steffens, Cams, and others) have really done good service in spiritualizing the physical philosophy of the age, without running info any censurable extravagance; while those who started from Schelling's later mysticism, such as Schubert, Baader, and others of smaller dimensions still, have done little else than revel in a species of sentimental mysticism, sometimes of more elevated, and at others of a very mean and trifling character. But the influence of Schelling was not confined to Germany. His attempt to unite the process of the physical sciences in one affiliated line with the study of man, both in his individual constitution and historic development, has also had a very considerable result out of his own country. No one, for example, who compares the philosophic method of Schelling with the "Philosophie positive" of Auguste Comte, can have the slightest hesitation as to the source from which the latter virtually sprang. The fundamental idea is, indeed, precisely the same as that of Schelling, with this difference only—that the idealistic language of the German speculator is here translated into the more ordinary language of physical science. That Comte borrowed his views from Schelling we can by no means affirm; but that the whole conception of the affiliation of the sciences, in the order of their relative simplicity, and the expansion of the same law of development so as to include the exposition of human nature and the course of social progress, is all to be found there, no one in the smallest degree acquainted with Schelling's writings can seriously doubt."

In the form of his head and the expression of his countenance Schelling is said to have resembled closely the busts of Socrates, and like him, too, to have been eloquent in conversation.—J. F. F. SCHEUFFELIN, Hans. See Schaeuffelin. * SCHEUTZ, George and Edward, two eminent Swedish engineers and men of science, are the inventors of a calculating machine, which has proved highly successful in practice. Mr. Edward Scheutz is also the inventor of a rotatory steam-engine, in which the advantages of that class of engines are secured, and its faults avoided.—R.