the case which we
would plead as our excuse. Mr. Mill's method of criticism has reduced the
question to a very narrow compass. Either Sir W. Hamilton, instead of
being a great philosopher, is the veriest blunderer that ever put pen to
paper, or the blunders are Mr. Mill's own. To those who accept the first
of these alternatives it must always remain a marvel how Sir W. Hamilton
could ever have acquired that reputation which compels even his critic to
admit that "he alone, of our metaphysicians of this and the preceding
generation, has acquired, merely as such, an European celebrity;" how he
could have been designated by his illustrious opponent, Cousin, as the
"greatest critic of our age," or described by the learned Brandis as
"almost unparalleled in the profound knowledge of ancient and modern
philosophy." The marvel may perhaps disappear, should it be the case, as
we believe it to be, that the second alternative is the true one.

But even in this case, it should be borne in mind that the blow will by
no means fall on Mr. Mill with the same weight with which he designed it
to fall on the object of his criticism. Sir W. Hamilton had devoted his
whole life to the study of metaphysics; he was probably more deeply read
in that study than any of his contemporaries; and if all his reading
could produce nothing better than the confusion and self-contradiction
which Mr. Mill imputes to him, the result would be pitiable indeed. Mr.
Mill, on the other hand, we strongly suspect, despises metaphysics too
much to be at the pains of studying them at all, and seems to think that
a critic is duly equipped for his task with that amount of knowledge
which, like Dogberry's reading and writing, "comes by nature." His work
has a superficial cleverness which, together with the author's previous
reputation, will insure it a certain kind of popularity; but we venture
to predict that its estimation by its readers will be in the inverse
ratio to their knowledge of the subject. But Mr. Mill's general
reputation rests on grounds quite distinct from his performances in
metaphysics; and though we could hardly name one of his writings from
whose main principles we do not dissent, there is hardly one which is not
better fitted to sustain his character as a thinker than this last, in
which the fatal charms of the goddess Necessity seem to have betrayed her
champion into an unusual excess of polemical zeal, coupled, it must be
added, with an unusual de