It must not be supposed, that, in the remarks I have made in my foregoing Discourse on the organic character (if I may use so strong a word in want of a better) of the various branches of Knowledge, viewed together, that I have been merely pointing out a peculiarity, which we may recognise or not at our pleasure; and that, on the ground, for instance, that a System of knowledge is more beautiful intellectually, or more serviceable in practice, true though this may be, than a confused litter of facts, or a heap of observations or rules. On the contrary, I assumed the fact of a System, and went on to point out some of the consequences which it involved. I assume, not only as incontrovertible, but as more or less confessed by all men, that the various sciences, which occupy the field of Knowledge, have, not mutual relations only, but run towards and into each other, and converge and approximate to a philosophical whole, whether we will or no:—so active is the sympathy which exists between them, so ready is the human mind to recognise, nay so impatient to anticipate, the Principle of System in all matters whatever, even at the risk of investing with laws and moulding into one, materials too scanty or too detached to sustain the process. Nor is it any unmixed compliment to the intellect thus to speak of its love of systematising; it is obliged to view its various creations all together from their very incompleteness separately.