Now that the body of scientific men are turned in this direction, we behold a vast upheaval towards philosophic thought; and this is entirely unlike the isolated phenomenon (hitherto observed in history) of a single group of men lifted above the surrounding darkness of their age into clearness. We do not have such a phenomenon in our time; it is the spirit of the nineteenth century to move by masses. CHAPTER II. THE “FIRST PRINCIPLES” OF THE “UNKNOWABLE.” The _British Quarterly_ speaking of Spencer, says: “These ‘First Principles’ are merely the foundation of a system of Philosophy, bolder, more elaborate and comprehensive, perhaps, than any other which has been hitherto designed in England.” The persistence and sincerity, so generally prevailing among these correlationists, we have occasion to admire in Herbert Spencer. He seems to be always ready to sacrifice his individual interest for truth, and is bold and fearless in uttering, what he believes it to be. For critical consideration no better division can be found than that adopted in the “First Principles” by Mr. Spencer himself, to wit: 1st, the unknowable, 2nd, the knowable. Accordingly, let us examine first his theory of THE UNKNOWABLE. When Mr. Spencer announces the content of the “unknowable” to be “ultimate religious and scientific ideas,” we are reminded at once of the old adage in jurisprudence—“_Omnis definitio in jure civili est periculosa_;” the definition is liable to prove self-contradictory in practice. So when we have a content assigned to the unknowable we at once inquire, whence come the distinctions in the unknowable? If unknown they are not distinct to us. When we are told that Time, Space, Force, Matter, God, Creation, etc., are unknowables, we must regard these words as corresponding to no distinct objects, but rather as all of the same import to us. It should be always borne in mind that _all universal negatives are self-contradictory_. Moreover, since all judgments are made by subjective intelligences, it follows that all general assertions concerning the nature of the intellect affect the judgment itself. The naïveté with which certain writers wield these double-edged weapons is a source of solicitude to the spectator. When one says that he knows that he knows nothing, he asserts knowledge and denies it in the same sentence. If one says “all knowledge is relative,” as Spencer does, (p. 68, _et seq._, of First Principles,) he of course asserts that his knowledge of the fact is relative and not absolute. If a distinct content is asserted of ignorance, the same contradiction occurs. The perception of this principle by the later German philosophers at once led them out of the Kantian nightmare, into positive truth. The principle may be applied in general to any subjective scepticism. The following is a general scheme that will apply to all particular instances: