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e mind, then it must be the same also in a critical
review.
It is true as we have seen that, wherever complete demonstration of the
nature of things would be too tedious, criticism must support itself on
those truths which theory has established on the point. But, just as in
War the actor obeys these theoretical truths rather because his mind is
imbued with them than because he regards them as objective inflexible
laws, so criticism must also make use of them, not as an external law
or an algebraic formula, of which fresh proof is not required each time
they are applied, but it must always throw a light on this proof itself,
leaving only to theory the more minute and circumstantial proof. Thus it
avoids a mysterious, unintelligible phraseology, and makes its progress
in plain language, that is, with a clear and always visible chain of
ideas.
Certainly this cannot always be completely attained, but it must
always be the aim in critical expositions. Such expositions must use
complicated forms of science as sparingly as possible, and never resort
to the construction of scientific aids as of a truth apparatus of its
own, but always be guided by the natural and unbiassed impressions of
the mind.
But this pious endeavour, if we may use the expression, has
unfortunately seldom hitherto presided over critical examinations: the
most of them have rather been emanations of a species of vanity--a wish
to make a display of ideas.
The first evil which we constantly stumble upon is a lame, totally
inadmissible application of certain one-sided systems as of a formal
code of laws. But it is never difficult to show the one-sidedness of
such systems, and this only requires to be done once to throw discredit
for ever on critical judgments which are based on them. We have here
to deal with a definite subject, and as the number of possible systems
after all can be but small, therefore also they are themselves the
lesser evil.
Much greater is the evil which lies in the pompous retinue of technical
terms--scientific expressions and metaphors, which these systems carry
in their train, and which like a rabble-like the baggage of an Army
broken away from its Chief--hang about in all directions. Any critic who
has not adopted a system, either because he has not found one to please
him, or because he has not yet been able to make himself master of one,
will at least occasionally make use of a piece of one, as one would use
a ruler, to s
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