gave his opinion against it, and warned the assembly against so dangerous a step. He remarked that by taking this course the assembly would be untrue to the first part of the programme, in which the members confess themselves to be within the Catholic Church, and claim all the rights of its members. The bishops must, therefore, be still recognised by them as legal ecclesiastical authorities, in spite of the pending penalties. By the formation of their own congregations they would soon appear merely as a sect; for the Roman Church would certainly continue to be considered Catholic, and two Catholic Churches are a contradiction. Nevertheless, when

it came to the vote Döllinger was in the minority. The formation of "Old Catholic" congregations was resolved upon by a large majority. Afterwards, however, Döllinger appears to have gained the victory over the decision of the majority; for no separate congregations have been formed, although in a small church in Munich "Old Catholic" service is performed by Professor Friedrich.

Of more importance than this "Old Catholic " Congress are two declarations of the Bavarian Ministry, in which it fully expresses its opinion on the Church question, especially on the dogma of Papal infallibility, and indicates the position which it intends to take up in relation to it. The first of these declarations appeared at the end of August as an address from the Minister of Worship to the Archbishop of Munich-Freising; the other is a statement by the same. minister in the Chamber of Deputies, in consequence of an interpellation on this subject. In both the minister enters fully into the subject. He shows in particular that this dogma must be considered as an innovation and as dangerous to the State by the Government; that the royal Placet for its publication is therefore refused, and that the bishops who have undertaken to publish it without the royal Placet have incurred the guilt of violating the laws of the State. The Government does not, however, wish to take measures to punish the Episcopal breakers of the law, in order not to afford opportunity for the coveted glory of martyrdom; but it will refuse all assistance to the bishops in introducing and spreading the new dogma, and will protect all Catholic citizens of the State, clergy or laymen, who refuse to acknowledge Papal infallibility in their offices and rights against ecclesiastical proceedings.

Full liberty is therefore accorded to Old Catholicism to spread itself if it has sufficient vitality. The struggle between State and Church in Bavaria and in Germany will now first really begin, since the Government has decidedly declared itself and taken up a position. The Ultramontane party is eager for the combat; it hopes to gain over the Catholic people for itself against the Government. Pope and bishops appear to be already consulting as to the measures to be taken. A BAVARIAN CATHOLIC.

ON HIBERNICISMS IN PHILOSOPHY.

ISS EDGEWORTH, in her entertaining "Essay on Irish Bulls," observes that "it has never yet been decided what it is that constitutes a bull." It appears, however, from the context that the definition she means is not the definition of a bull, but the definition of that kind of bull which is supposed to be especially Irish. And in this contention I think she proves that the confusions of thought and language which constitute a bull can be produced abundantly from the writings of English poets, statesmen, and philosophers. I am happy to observe that no Scotch example has been produced by this ingenious and charming authoress. Nevertheless, candour obliges me to confess that quite lately I heard a Scotch young lady of my acquaintance (who, however, has some English blood) in answer to the question, "Do you remember Donald Ferguson?" make the following discriminating reply: "No; I recollect his face, but I don't recollect him by name." Probably this is pretty nearly a perfect specimen. Here is another which Miss Edgeworth tells us was particularly admired by Lord Orford: "I hate that woman," said a gentleman looking at one who had been his nurse; "I hate that woman, for she changed me at nurse." In the same essay we are told of an Irishman who accosted an acquaintance thus: "When first I saw you, I thought it was you; but now I see it's your brother;" and of a petition which was addressed to a lady in Ireland whom Miss Edge

worth knew, which began, "That your poor petitioner is now lying dead in a ditch."

Now, I am disposed to think that Miss Edgeworth has done injustice to her country, when she disputes whether there is anything peculiar in Irish bulls. There is a neatness, completeness, and perspicuity of confusion in an Irish bull which is inimitable and unapproachable, and which constitutes at once its humour and its innocence. The bulls of other nations are comparatively clumsy; the confusions of thought which they involve are as complete, without being as apparent having all the absurdity of the Irish bull without its fun. But the essence of a bull-the contradiction in terms, the assertion of something which is nevertheless denied in the very terms of the assertion, or conversely, the denial of something which is nevertheless asserted in the very terms of the denial--this is a kind of blunder in which our Irish friends have many successful rivals. Among these rivals none, as it seems to me, are more successful than philosophers, and especially metaphysicians. To the illustration of this-I fear somewhat irreverent proposition-this paper will be devoted.

Let me say, in the first place, that there are sayings which at first sight may appear to involve a bull, but which in reality do not. For example, Sir John Herschel, in one of his popular lectures on science, tells us that "light, although the cause of vision, is in itself invisible." This is no mere paradox invented to attract attention, and to fix it on the explanation which is to follow. It is, indeed, an apparent paradox, but only because the literal facts are not commonly apprehended. Light is a word which means several different things. First, and perhaps primarily, it signifies the sensation of vision. Secondly, it means the (once) unknown external cause of that sensation. The first of these two meanings is regarded by Locke (I think erroneously) as the proper meaning of the word. But the second is unquestionably the idea which is uppermost in the common understanding of the term. We talk of the light coming to us from one direction or another-from one body or another-meaning, of course, not our sensation of light (which cannot come to us from anywhere), but the agency, whatever it may be, which produces that sensation But neither do these two meanings exhaust all that is now meant by light. In neither of these two meanings would there be any sense in saying that "light is in itself invisible." For if by light is meant the sensation, the saying would be nonsense; and if by light were meant the immediate cause of vision, or the precise agency which produces it, then the saying would be untrue. The thing which causes vision, or which, more correctly speaking, is the object of vision, is not only visible, but it is the only thing in the world which is

in us.

visible. Light, in this sense, is the thing and the one only thing which the human eye is made to see. But there is a third meaning in which Sir J. Herschel's assertion is strictly true. We now know what light is "in itself”—that is to say, we know the nature and constitution of it, not in terms of the sensation it gives to us, but in terms of a wholly different order of conception. First, we know that it is a motion; secondly, we know that it is a motion of a particular kind; and, thirdly, we know that it is that motion in a medium having peculiar properties. Provisionally, and for want of a better, this medium has been called the "luminiferous ether." And it is of light in this sense that Sir J. Herschel speaks when he says that it is invisible. It is now nearly seventy years since Dr. Thomas Young startled and amused the scientific world by announcing his belief that this luminiferous ether "pervades the substance of all material bodies with little or no resistance,-as freely perhaps as the wind passes through a grove of trees." But when this ether is not agitated, it is invisible. Nay, more-even when it is agitated, the movements of it are invisible, except when they come to us in a straight line, either directly from a luminous body, or indirectly by reflection from some other. In short, it may be said that the luminiferous ether is like a vast ocean, which is never seen except where its waves break in surf. When these facts are apprehended, we see at once that Herschel's assertion of the invisibility of light, so far from being a bull-that is, a confounding of ideas-is a clearing up of our conceptions. If there is any apparent confusion in that assertion, it is not due to any confusion of ideas, but, on the contrary, it is due to a nicety of discrimination which the weakness of ordinary language fails to indicate.

In contrast with this, which illustrates one of the great aims and objects of philosophy, let us look at some of the many cases in which language is abused to cover contradictory propositions, or to cheat the mind into a semblance of ideas when there are none.

To begin with-and to begin with a most distinguished countryman of my own, Sir William Hamilton-is not the very phrase, "the Unconditioned," in itself a bull? "The" is the definite article, and applicable only to things or ideas capable of definition. But nothing is capable of definition which has no conditions. The negation of conditions is the negation of existence, as alone conceivable by man. "The Unconditioned" is, therefore, simply nonsensethat is to say, a word pretending to have a meaning, but having none.

In saying this I hope I am not committing another blunder, which is very common-the blunder of denying the existence of some particular idea, which is nevertheless described and denoted by a name. We read often nowadays of such and such an idea being

"unthinkable." If it be unthinkable, it had better also be considered as unspeakable. To speak of it, and then to deny its conceivability, is a bull. If the word or the phrase employed to express it, is a word or a phrase representing an idea, then it is absurd to deny the existence of that idea; and if the word or phrase represents no idea, then it is equally absurd to use it at all, and to make it the subject of either affirmation or denial.

But this case is carefully to be distinguished from another, with which it may easily be confounded. The necessities of language may compel us to place in momentary collocation, for the purpose of denial, two ideas which negative each other, and which thus make nonsense; the very object of the collocation being to show that such is the result. For example: "We cannot conceive any boundary to Space." Here, at first sight, it might appear as if we first speak of a conception, and then deny its conceivability. But this is not so. We have a distinct conception of a boundary, and a distinct conception of Space, and what we deny is that the idea of a boundary can be applied to the idea of Space, because the very conception of a boundary involves the conception of an outside as well as of an inside; and where there is an outside there must be space. Whatever, therefore, a boundary may be boundary of, it cannot be a boundary of Space.

Here, therefore, there is no confusion of thought, in first describing an attempted combination of ideas, and then denying that this attempted combination can be made successfully--that is, with sense.

But what are we to say of the second of the three great metaphysical discoveries which Mr. Mill has just extolled as the great triumphs of Bishop Berkeley's philosophy, namely, the "non-existence of abstract ideas?" It is not pretended that this phrase is in itself meaningless. It is not pretended that it involves an attempt to combine two ideas, the one of which excludes the other. On the contrary, the phrase is used over and over again, as having a definite meaning, which the mind can handle, examine, and analyse, by resolving it into the elements of which it is composed. But an idea cannot be proved to be non-existent by being proved to be composite. For, just as the most solid and stable forms of matter in physical nature are not elementary substances, but combinations of them, so many of the most real and serviceable conceptions of the mind are structures built out of the rudimentary elements of thought. The Irishman who complained that he had been changed at nurse is clear-headed, compared with the philosopher who takes up an abstract idea, examines it, describes it, and then denies its existence. And the absurdity of this blunder is made, if possible, more apparent, by the obvious impossibility of conducting * The Fortnightly Review, November 1, 1871, "Berkeley's Life and Writings."