reviewer), or it may be "The Comedy of Errors;" in which case the mistake was his, and not mine. I have performed what I promised, although, perhaps, not what Mr Fraser expected. I now drop the curtain on my critic in the "North British Review," whom I again acquit of all malice or intentional misrepresentation.
A bolder, and, from its very boldness, perhaps, a fairer attack on the Institutes, appeared in the "British and Foreign Evangelical Review," vol. iv., p. 124. This article is a vigorous composition, and its author has acquitted himself, as ably as was possible in such a losing cause,—
Si Pergama dextrâ
Defendi possent; etiam hâc defensa fuissent.
My reviewer makes a stumble near the outset, which is a bad omen. He reproves me for defining knowledge by its common quality—its essential characteristic; and referring to my comment on the dialogue between Socrates and Theætetus (Institutes, p. 69, second Ed.), he takes occasion to remark that Socrates would certainly not have been satisfied if Theætetus had defined it in the same way.[1] Now, if my reviewer had studied the Theætetus of Plato more carefully, he would have seen that such a definition of knowledge as that which I have given, was precisely what Socrates desired to elicit from his friend. This is obvious, from the illustration which Socrates adduces. He says:—For instance, in answer to the question, What is clay? a man ought not to enumerate this kind and that kind of clay. It is a plain and simple and sufficient answer to say, earth of all kinds mixed with moisture (the common circumstance), is clay. So in regard to knowledge, the Institutes, taking advantage of this hint (which, indeed, illustrates the true method of definition), have pointed out the circumstance common
- ↑ His words are: According to Mr Ferrier, "knowledge consists in knowing myself (the common circumstance in all kinds of knowledge), along with whatever I know. Would Socrates have been satisfied with that? We rather think not."—Rev. p. 136.
