mory remains, there is no one word or act that calls for condemnation or concealment-no veil but may be lifted up, and no door but may be opened-no awkward gaps, therefore, as often occurs, for the biographer to leap, nor cautious balancing needed from his pen, of virtues against deviations from virtue. We deem Jay's life, therefore, one worthy of all meditation, and the record of it as invaluable, above all, to the public men of our country, unto whom we here fearlessly hold it up as exhibiting the model of a CHRISTIAN STATESMAN. It were, indeed, a bold task to venture to draw into comparison the relative merits of Jay and Hamilton on the fame or fortunes of their country-a bold task-and yet, bold as it is, we feel impelled, before closing, at least to venture on opening it. They were, undoubtedly, "par nobile fratrum," and yet not twin brothers-" pares sed impares"-like, but unlike. In patriotic attachment equal, for who would venture therein to assign to either the superiority; yet was that attachment, though equal in degree, yet far different in kind, with Hamilton it was a sentiment, with Jay a principlewith Hamilton enthusiastic passion, with Jay duty as well as love-with Hamilton patriotism was the paramount law, with Jay a law "sub graviori lege." Either would have gone through fire and water to do his country service, and laid down freely his life for her safety-Hamilton with the roused courage of a lion-Jay with the calm fearlessness of a man; or rather, Hamilton's courage would have been that of the soldier-Jay's that of the Christian. Of the latter it might be truly said "Conscience made him firm, That boon companion, who her strong breast-plate And bids him on, and fear not." In intellectual power, in depth, and grasp, and versatility of mind, as well as in all the splendid and brilliant parts which captivate and adorn, Hamilton was greatly, not to say immeasurably, Jay's superior. In the calm and deeper wisdom of practical duty-in the government of others, and still more in the government of himself-in seeing clearly the right, and following it whithersoever it led, firmly, patiently, self-denyingly, Jay was again greatly, if not immeasurably, Hamilton's superior. In statesman-like talent Hamilton's mind had in it more of "constructive" power, Jay's of "executive." Hamilton had GENIUS, Jay had WISDOM. We would have taken Hamilton to plan a government, and Jay to carry it into execution; and in a court of law we would have had Hamilton for our advocate, if our cause were generous, and Jay for our judge, if our cause were just. The fame of Hamilton, like his parts, we deem to shine brighter and farther than Jay's, but we are not sure that it should be so, or rather we are quite sure that it should not. For, when we come to examine and compare their relative course, and its bearing on the country and its fortunes, the reputation of Hamilton we find to go as far beyond his practical share in it, as Jay's falls short of his. Hamilton's civil official life was a brief, and single, though brilliant one. Jay's numbered the years of a generation, and exhausted every department of diplomatic, civil, and judicial trust. In fidelity to their country both were pure to their heart's core; yet was Hamilton loved, perhaps, more than trusted, and Jay trusted, perhaps, more than loved. Such were they, we deem, in differing, if not contrasted points of character. Their lives, too, when viewed from a distance, stand out in equally striking, but much more painful contrast. Jay's, viewed as a whole, has in it a completeness of parts such as the nicer critic demands for the perfection of an epic poem, with its beginning of promise, its heroic middle, and its peaceful end, and partaking, too, somewhat of the same cold stateliness-noble, however, still and glorious, and ever pointing, as such poem does, to the stars. "Sic itur ad astra." The life of Hamilton, on the other hand, broken and fragmentary, begun in the darkness of romantic interest, running on into the sympathy of all high passion, and at length breaking off in the midst, like some half-told tale of sorrow, amid tears and blood, even as does the theme of the tragic poet. The name of Hamilton, therefore, was a name to conjure with-that of Jay's to swear by. Hamilton had his frailties, arising out of passion, as tragic heroes have. Jay's name was faultless and his course passionless, as becomes the epic leader, and, in point of fact, was, while living, a name at which frailty blushed and corruption trembled. If we ask whence, humanly speaking, came such disparity of fate between equals, the stricter morals, the happier life, the more peaceful death, to what can we trace it but to the healthful power of religion over the heart and conduct? Was not this, we ask, the ruling secret? Hamilton was a Christian in his youth, and a penitent Christian, we doubt not, on his dying bed; but Jay was a Christian, so far as man may judge, every day and hour of his life. He had but one rule, the gospel of Christ; in that he was nurturedruled by that, through grace, he lived-resting on that, in prayer, he died. Admitting, then, as we do, both names to be objects of our highest sympathetic admiration, yet, with the name of Hamilton, as the master says of tragedy, the lesson is givenδι' έλεον και φοβου “ with pity and in fear.” Not so with that of Jay; with him we walk fearless, as in the steps of one who was a CHRISTIAN as well as a PATRIOT. ART. II.-Das Christliche im Plato und in der Platonischen Philosophie, entwickelt und hervorgehoben von D. C. AckERMANN, Archidiakonus zu Jena. 1835. The Christian Element in Plato, and the Platonic Philosophy, developed and exhibited by D. C. ACKERMANN, Archdeacon at Jena. 1835. THERE is a strong tendency in the human mind to generalization. Perhaps there is no intellectual process more flattering to our pride. For so soon as we are able to perceive resemblances between two things, and put them into the same class, we fancy that we understand them, and thus delude ourselves with a show of knowledge. It is far easier and pleasanter to generalize than to abstract, and the faculty of abstraction is much rarer than the other. The philosopher should be on his guard against this generalizing tendency. It is the prolific parent of ingenious hypotheses and plausible theories; but quite other faculties are needed for the discovery of truth. Moreover, the inadequacy and impropriety of this method, is in exact proportion to the importance of its objects. For, as we ascend in the scale of life, the individual becomes more important, the species less so. Specific distinctions describe the individual less accurately in the higher than in the lower orders of being. A description of the species oyster may answer for every individual of the species, but not so with man. In a sense, every man is a distinct species. Every man has an idiosyncracy. And as in the different species, so in the different individuals of the same species; the individualization, the idiosyncracy, will be proportioned to rank in the scale of being. A powerful mind has more that is peculiar to itself than a weak one. For this reason genius is pre-eminently idiosyncratic. Aristotle and Kant have attempted to establish certain forms, or categories, common to all human minds. Such, undoubtedly, there are, and it is highly important to understand them. But every mind has also its own categories. Do we believe that any training, any circumstances, any effort of will, could have transformed an Aristotle into a Plato, or a Schleiermacher into a Paulus? It may be thought to militate against the assertion, that genius is idiosyncratic, that men of genius manifest a peculiarly strong sympathy with their kind. But, properly regarded, this fact confirms, instead of weakens, the other. For, in the spiritual world, as well as in the kingdom of matter, the law of attraction operates most strongly between opposites; and the more marked and peculiar is the mental constitution of a man, the more powerfully is he drawn towards his kind, and especially towards those of an opposite idiosyncracy from his own. Be it observed, however, that it is opposites, not contraries, which are thus mutually attracted; and, morcover, that with system-makers the hostile tendencies, engendered by a desire of victory, predominate over and suppress all workings of sympathy. But to return to our former position. The falseness of the method of generalization, we have said, is greatest when applied to men. Man, above all other creatures, is individual, and cannot be treated in classes. Here is the mistake of many philosophers. They observe the resemblances between mind and mind too much, and the differences too little. Hence their astonishment at a fact which ought, by this time, to have become familiar to them, viz., the variety of answers given to the question, What is truth? In the form of an abstract proposition, or in its application to the history of the remote past, every thinking person recognizes and tolerates the fact that there is a diversity of opinions among men. He can easily reconcile himself to the know ledge that Democritus or Plotinus, or Des Cartes, or Leibnitz, held a different set of opinions from himself; he can philosophize upon the rise and development of various systems, and trace the law of their succession. But let his neighbor rise up and say, "I differ from you on this point; you think desire is synonymous with volition, and I think, nay, I am sure, it is not ;" and no words can express the astonishment, perhaps the indignation, with which he regards his audacious opponent. He descants with vehemence upon the inconceivable blindness and stupidity of some men, and is in doubt only whether he should feel most pity or most contempt for one so signally devoid of inward illumination. Another error sometimes committed in relation to this subject, is that of inferring, from the diversity of systems, that there is no such thing as absolute objective truth. For six thousand years, it is said, men have been disputing about all the great problems of thought, and are no nearer to uniformity of opinion than when they began. Surely, if there were any such thing as absolute truth, or if it were attainable by human capacities, it would ere this have been found. There is such a thing as absolute, unchangeable, immortal truth, and by those who seek her in humility and love, she shall be found not, indeed, by all men, for all men have not the right state of heart: "there are some truths," says De Maistre," which can be apprehended only by l'esprit du cœur"-nor, perhaps, by any minds absolutely free from all admixture of error, and in all its beautiful proportions and admirable relations. But in that degree in which it is necessary to man's well-being, in the highest sense of the word, truth is attainable. Especially is it attainable in relation to the great points which concern man's spiritual nature and destiny; for here it is doubly true, that he who seeks shall find. We are the more concerned to be understood on this head, as some of the remarks which are to follow may seem to countenance a different result; and do, therefore, earnestly request that this carcat may be borne in mind. Yet, with all our confidence in the existence and attainableness of truth, we find it impossible to sympathize in the agreeable anticipations of those who predict the final triumph and exclusive reign of a single system of philosophy, which is to embody unmixed truth, and to which all men are to give in their adherence. We cannot persuade ourselves that men |