Sir William Hamilton wrote a short response to Calderwood's criticism. He was, however, cut down somewhat suddenly, and never produced a complete reply. Professor Calderwood's book met a want so pronounced that in a little time a second edition, much enlarged, was issued. This was a powerful rejoinder as well to Mansel as to Hamilton; and it was Dorner's letter from Berlin commending the book that turned the scale in Calderwood's favor, and gave him his election to the chair in Edinburgh University; a voice from Germany decided the patrons of the University to enthrone the critic of their own greatest philosophic thinker. Meanwhile, at Glasgow University, a similar event comes to pass. Dr. Edward Caird is called to the corresponding chair. He proves to be the most noted representative, outside of Germany, of German critical thinking.

Such was the change in the spirit of the dream in Philosophy. Even Scotland no longer admonishes her sons to accept only home production. At Oxford, Jowett and Max Müller, concur in advising me to continue my journey across the Rhine. "Oxford," says Professor Müller, "knows little of German philosophy. You must hear Trendelenburg. He is the most eminent thinker in Germany." So I continue my pilgrimage to the shrine of Teutonic lore, and pitch my tent in the German capital, taking, among other courses, Hegel's Logic; the first American student, I was told, who had chosen it.

In due time comes on my colaborer, Calderwood; and discussion became the order of the day. Bonitz was expounding Plato; Trendelenburg, Aristotle; Cohen, Kant in private lessons; Dorner filling the largest auditorium. When Dr. Calderwood related to Dorner the result of his letter, the latter expressed his gratification, complimenting Calderwood's book in emphatic terms, as one that "unmasks the fallacy of an unknowable God"; and we were ever welcome guests at Dorner's house.

VOL. LVIII. No. 231. 12

Harms was then Germany's most renowned psychologist; and well I recall his lecture answering Bain. Alexander Bain he referred to as the admiration of the English universities; and being, he said, a son of Scotland and a professor there, represented a land for whose thinking Germany had profound respect. Harms proceeds to criticise. Bain's claim that we can scientifically connect the physical and the mental. On the blackboard he has a representation of the structure of the brain; and with a transcendent clearness and precision, simply and deliberately, he shows point after point where Bain's logic fails, ending with the words, "Bain's claim, you see, is a tissue of assumptions." A major-general would not have shown more power in carrying a fortress. Indeed, Bain being the ablest English writer on psychology in the half-century, the critique had the inspiration of an international contest. At the sugges tion of Dr. Calderwood, we went back later in the day to examine again Harms' diagram and to review his demonstration. Calderwood's own reply to Bain appears soon after in his "Handbook of Moral Philosophy," more fully, however, in his later work, "Relations of Mind and Brain," where the spirit of Harms is clearly visible. Indeed, what work meets more satisfactorily the contentions just now in the air?

But I cannot enter upon the details of our experiences— our prolonged walks, beauties of Thiergarten, Platz, and suburb adding an enchantment to philosophical inquiry. My companion was at his best in debate; here indeed he showed his true nobility. Scarcely can we find in literature a contest at once so incisive and affectionate as that between Hamilton and Calderwood; and our arguments were to me personally, not more a rigorous discipline, than a pleasure ever to be remembered.

Dr. Calderwood was lacking somewhat in acquaintance with the German tongue. He, however, would gain the

appreciation of the professors by his facile use of the Latin. Still, in the handling of the German he was, as a rule, remarkably successful. Of course upon occasions would come a touch of the humorous. One evening before leaving the city, he entertained a few of his fellow-professors with a collation at his room. In order that we might be undisturbed, he directed the hostess to provide in advance an extra pitcher with hot water so that we could at will replenish the pot of tea. What was our astonishment, on coming to the table, to find the teapot sitting as sweetly as a swan in the center of an immense bowl of steaming water. No one was more hearty in the laugh that followed than Dr. Calderwood; he quickly summons the hostess, who, blushing at our confusion, says with the finest courtesy, "It is as ordered." A suggestion or two, and the matter was righted; and a happy evening ensued.

Professor Calderwood was present, as a guest of honor, at the dedication of the Hegel monument, which immediately followed the return of the victorious emperor from the siege of Paris. Several times he was similarly the guest of the Philosophical Society, and would have been further honored by membership but for the solitary slight want of facility just mentioned.

The conspicuous charm of Dr. Calderwood was the sincerity of his faith. In all the struggles with questions that human wisdom cannot resolve, his religious convictions remained clear and strong. He never ran to vagaries. Of his religion, rationality must ever be the handmaid. He saw that Hamilton's philosophy was serving the skeptic, the atheist even; and it became his mission to save genuine thinking from such an abyss. Hamilton, however masterful, loses his leadership; Mansel, too, who pleads for belief in a God he claims we cannot know, is early recognized as a wandering star.

Professor Calderwood has been umpire in large measure

of the developing thought of his country. A guide of youth in the university, and a referee in case of book reviews, he has preserved confidence, meeting the iconoclastic tides as has no other. Tennyson used to remark upon the reviews by Christopher North, who well may be considered a literary genius, but, in philosophic endowment and attainment, scarcely to be compared with his successor, whose opinion in issues of grave import exerted a control by far more deep and wide.

Dr. Henry Calderwood "stood foursquare to all the winds that blew." If he won and prized the sympathy of the churches, in the social or moral world he could brave public sentiment and calmly meet the attacks of conven tionalism, ostracized, it might be, by his own colleagues. An incident is suggestive. A few friends were invited to dine, including the erudite but eccentric Professor Blackie. As Dr. Blackie enters the dining-room he peers scrutiniz ingly across the table. "I see you have no wine. Did you think I couldn't restrain myself? I consider this a personal insult." Moving hastily for hat and cane, he takes his leave a program he had, no doubt, planned in advance.

Calderwood's masterpiece met an emergency and was a positive advance upon the thought of the day. Represen tative of a stage of progress-not the overthrow but the rightful development of Hamilton-it is one of the most remarkable books Scotland has produced. Why did not the errors of such commanding thinkers as Bain and Mansel and Hamilton lead a generation astray? The student of the history of philosophy will answer, Because Henry Calderwood lived.

ARTICLE XI.

NOTICES OF RECENT PUBLICATIONS.

A HISTORY OF BABYLONIA AND ASSYRIA. By ROBERT WILLIAM ROGERS, PH.D. (Leipzig), D.D., LL.D., F.R.G.S., Professor in Drew Theological Seminary, Madison, New Jersey. In two volumes. Vols. I and II. 8vo. Pp. xx, 429, xv, 418. New York: Eaton & Mains; Cincinnati: Jennings & Pye. $5.00.

Two hundred and fifty-three pages, or nearly one-third of these volumes, are devoted to a history, not of the country itself, but of modern explorations. Though this seems rather of a long introduction, it is justified by the inherent interest of the subject. But it might well have been published in a volume by itself. Nothing seems to have been omitted in this portion of the work, and abundant praise is bestowed upon all who have contributed even in the smallest degree to the discovery and deciphering of the cuneiform inscriptions. This leads in some degree to a loss of the true perspective, more honor being bestowed upon some than they relatively deserve. This is notably the case in respect to Grotefend in comparison with Sir Henry Rawlinson. However interesting Grotefend's youthful work may have been in 1802 and onward, the results which he obtained were trifling; whereas Rawlinson's translation in 1846 of the long inscription at Behistun, published in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, is truly monumental, and was the result of independent work and thought. In this inscription there were more than a hundred lines, and from it he was able almost completely to make out the ancient Persian alphabet.

It is difficult to appreciate the amount of labor required in this deciphering of an unknown tongue in an unknown alphabet with little aid except that of conjecture. At the same time it is one of the best of all illustrations of the real character of inductive reasoning. With the very slightest of clews a series of skillful guesses lead to conclusions which are irresistible. The lock is so intricate that, when a key is found to open it, it is certain to be the key which was made to fit it. All doubt of the correctness of the principles of interpretation adopted by the leading students of the cuneiform alphabet was dissipated in 1855 by a bold plan proposed by Mr. H. Fox Talbot, and accepted by Sir Henry Rawlinson. Sir Henry Rawlinson, Rev. Edward Hincks, and Monsieur Jules Oppert were requested to send to the Royal Asiatic Society, under sealed covers, translations of an inscription which M. Oppert had recently brought from Babylonia, and which Mr. Talbot himself had translated and sent in a sealed package to the society. These translations were then opened