thising with Bentham and James Mill, they disagreed upon various points both with their leaders and each other, but they appeared to outsiders as a clique. Mill admits that their contempt for ‘sentimentalities’ and ‘vague generalities,’ and for poetic culture generally, was excessive, as it naturally made them offensive to others. They came into contact with other young men at a debating society named after the famous Speculative Society at Edinburgh. Some of the utilitarians, led by Charles Austin, had attended the meetings of the Co-operative Society of Owenites in Chancery Lane. They fought a pitched battle, which lasted for three months, in defence of their conflicting opinions. This suggested the formation of the Speculative Society, which was joined by many of the most promising men of the day, including Macaulay, Thirlwall, Praed, Sam Wilberforce, and the Bulwers. The first session was a failure, but in 1826–7 they gained recruits, and sharp debates took place, A. Hayward [q. v.] and Shee (afterwards judge) representing the tories, while Mill and Roebuck, helped by Charles Buller and Cockburn, defended the radical cause. In the seasons of 1828 and 1829 they were joined by Maurice and Sterling, representing the Coleridgean influence. Mill became a friend of both, and in spite of profound differences of opinion was influenced by them in his mental development. He dropped the society in 1829, having abandoned the ‘Westminster’ in the previous year.
Mill had meanwhile gone through a spiritual crisis, which he compares to the conversion of methodists. It was connected, as he says, with ‘a dull state of nerves.’ Although he dwells chiefly upon the mental state, it seems to be clear that the pressure to which he had been subjected from his infancy, and the extraordinary labours of his early manhood, in which the work upon Bentham in the previous year was a mere interlude, must have tried his nervous system. In 1836 he had an illness due to ‘an obstinate derangement of the brain’ (Bain, p. 42), which produced involuntary nervous movements, and to the end of his life there was ‘an almost ceaseless spasmodic twitching over one eye.’ From this and other attacks it is clear that he had suffered from excessive intellectual strain. The mental crisis, whether the effect, or, as he apparently fancied, the cause of the nervous mental derangement, greatly affected his later development. He suddenly felt that even the full attainment of his political and social aims would fail to give happiness. He concluded that the systematic analysis of his school tended to ‘wear away the feelings’ by destroying the associations which, in their view, were the cause of all happiness. The ‘first ray of light’ came from a passage in Marmontel's ‘Memoirs.’ Marmontel there describes how, upon his father's death, he was inspired by the resolution to make up the loss to his family. Mill learnt that happiness was to be found not in directly pursuing it, but in the pursuit of other ends; and learnt, also, the importance of a steady cultivation of the feelings. In this state of mind he was profoundly attracted by Wordsworth, whose merits he defended against Roebuck at the Speculative Society. He learnt something, too, from Maurice, who introduced him to Coleridge and Goethe. He began to diverge from the stern utilitarianism of his father, who also repelled him by a denial of the rights of women. Macaulay's attack upon James Mill's essay on ‘Government’ suggested to him the necessity of a more philosophical treatment of politics. In 1829–30 he became acquainted with the St.-Simonians, and was especially impressed by an early work of Auguste Comte, then an avowed follower of St.-Simon. In 1830 he went to Paris upon the revolution, was introduced to Lafayette and to some of the popular leaders, and saw the chiefs of the St.-Simonians. He was thus led to widen and humanise his traditional utilitarianism, and he convinced himself that he could retain all that was ennobling in the ‘Freewill’ doctrine—the belief, namely, that we can mould our own characters—without abandoning the philosophical theory of determinism. He wrote much in newspapers after his visit to France in 1830, especially in the ‘Examiner,’ to which he contributed a series of papers on the ‘Spirit of the Age’ in 1831. Carlyle was attracted by them, and upon coming to London soon afterwards made Mill's acquaintance. They were for some time friends, although Carlyle soon discovered that Mill was not, as he had fancied, a ‘new mystic.’ In fact, the absence of ‘mysticism’ in Mill's intellect made the relationship uncongenial, and they gradually drifted apart. Mill had made collections for a history of the French revolution, which were very useful to Carlyle.
Mill now began to put together materials for his most important works. The discussions at Grote's house had suggested to him the composition of a logical treatise. After finishing the economist essays, he again took up the question, was able to frame his theory of the syllogism, and wrote a sketch of his first book. Difficulties, however, stopped him as to the theory of induction, and he put the subject aside for five
