Nae fears. Look at the brodd. SHEPHERD. NORTH. "The conviction that such an indestructible essence exists, the belief expressed by the poet in a different sense, non omnis moriar, must infer the existence of, &c. "Some ideas of the existence of a deity," and "these spirits, in a state of separate existence, being admitted to exist!" "To the multitude, the indubitable fact that so many millions of spirits exist," "the more numerous part of mankind cannot form in their mind the idea of the spirit of the deceased existing," and "spectres which only exist in the mind," &c. SHEPHERD. Ma faith! gin I was to write in that gate, hoo the critics wad be on ma tap! NORTH. "More than one learned physician, who have given their attestation to the existence of this most distressing complaint, have agreed that it actually Occurs". SHEPHERD. Stap-stap-stap, sir, nae forgery-that canna be it-sic towtological repetition of ane and the same fack. NORTH. 'Tis odd—but let me get on to a specimen of Sir Walter's philosophy. Do-Here's a mouthfu' ! SHEPHERD. NORTH. Sir Walter tells us that " unfortunately, as is now universally known and admitted, there certainly exists more than one disorder, known to professional men, of which one important symptom is a disposition to see apparitions. This frightful disorder is not properly insanity, although it is somewhat allied to that most horrible of maladies, and may, in many constitutions, be the means of bringing it on, and all such hallucinations are proper to both. The difference I conceive to be, that in cases of insanity the mind of the patient is principally affected, while the senses, or organic system, offer in vain to the lunatic their decided testimony against the fantasy of a deranged imagination." I'll try this ane wi' moostard. SHEPHERD. NORTH. Sir Walter must have read little indeed on insanity, or he never could have written so. No doubt that in all cases of insanity the mind of the patient is principally affected; but in none is the organic system soundin few, have we reason to know that the senses do not deceive-and in many-indeed in by far the greater number-we have reason to know that they do deceive, and are wofully disordered. The difference, therefore, which Sir Walter points out, is rarely indeed the real difference. That lies always wholly in the mind. NORTH. However, suppose that Sir Walter had stated the real difference, how does he illustrate it? Hoo can I tell? SHEPHERD. NORTH. By the story of an insane patient in the Infirmary of Edinburgh, who, though all his meals consisted of porridge, believed that he had every day a dinner of three regular courses and a dessert-and yet confessed, that somehow or other every thing he ate tasted of porridge! The case, says Sir Walter, is obvious-the disease lay in the extreme vivacity of the patient's imagination, deluded in other instances, but not absolutely powerful enough to contend with the honest evidence of his stomach and palate. Here, therefore, Sir Walter adds, "is one instance of actual insanity, in which the sense of taste controlled and attempted to restrain the ideal hypothesis adopted by a deranged imagination." But who knows that all this insane patient's senses were not diseased? He acted as if they were so-though his palate was still sensible to the porridge taste. They might, or they might not be diseased—but Sir Walter's conclusion is most illogical. The sense of taste controlling and attempting to restrain an ideal hypothesis," is language altogether new in mental philosophy. 66 Hitherto Sir Walter, though not happy in his illustrations, is yet intelligible, and not absolutely self-inconsistent. But by and by he falls into saď selfcontradiction. SHEPHERD. It's wonnerfu', sir, hoo common that is. I really maun publish ma "Logic." Do you think the bairds o' eisters pushionush? NORTH. "The disorder to which I previously alluded is entirely of a bodily character, and consists, principally, in a disease of the visual organs, which present to the patient a set of spectres, or appearances, which have no actual existence. It is a disease of the same nature which renders many men incapable of distinguishing colours, only the patients go a step farther, and pervert the external form of objects. In this case, therefore, contrary to that of the maniac, it is not the mind, or rather the imagination, which imposes upon, and overpowers the evidence of the senses, but the sense of seeing or hearing, which betrays its duty, and conveys false ideas to a sane intellect." SHEPHERD. Weel then, isna a' that intelligible aneuch? NORTH. Perfectly so-but wait, James, for the illustrations. SHEPHERD. I'm quite wullin' to wait for the illustrations, sir, as lang's there's a pandoor on the brodd. NORTH. Meanwhile, how could Sir Walter say that the disease of the visual organs, which presents to the patient a set of spectres or appearances which have no existence, is a disease of the same nature with that which renders many men incapable of distinguishing colours? The latter is but a defect-the other is indeed a disease; but I suppose Sir Walter merely means that they both belong to the eye. Aiblins. SHEPHERD. NORTH. There is something to my mind not a little ludicrous in Sir Walter's simplicity, when he says, " only the patients go a step farther, and pervert the external form of objects." SHEPHERD. An' a patient gangs yet anither step farther when he dees-that is his last step-for after it, he's carried. NORTH. The two cases, James, which Sir Walter proposes, are essentially distinct and different. VOL. XXIX, NO. CLXXV. C SHEPHERD. They are sae-but noo for your objections to Sir Walter's illustrations. NORTH. Sir Walter has been at great pains to tell us, that "this disease is entirely of a bodily character"—"it is not the mind, or rather the imagination, which imposes" I ken a' that-gang on. SHEPHERD. NORTH. You may ken a' that, James, but Sir Walter, in the very next page, has forgotten it, and with difficulty could I believe my eyes, James, when in the paragraph immediately following, I read-" The most frequent source of the malady is in the dissipated and intemperate habits of those who, by a continued series of intoxication, become subject to what is popularly called the Blue Devils, instances OF WHICH MENTAL DISORDER (!!) may be known to most who have lived in society where hard drinking was a common vice." Here Sir Walter not only loses sight of his own distinction, which he had so pompously laid down, but he dishes it at one blow. This disease, which he told us before" was entirely of a bodily character," is now, it seems, a "mental disorder." SHEPHERD. It's a pity to see folk writin' on soobjects they hae na considered, and therefore canna understaun. It's a cut-throat o' a contradiction. NORTH. Sir Walter then goes on to illustrate "this disease, which is entirely of a bodily character," and thereby distinguishable from insanity, and yet is at the same time" a mental disorder," by the case of a young gentleman, one of whose principal complaints was the frequent presence of a set of apparitions resembling a band of figures dressed in green. Sir Walter then tells us, with astounding forgetfulness of his own theory, that the whole" corps de ballet existed only in the patient's imagination." If they did, then the disease was of the imagination, and not of the sense-but the story is told to shew that the disease was one of the sense, and not of the imagination! SHEPHERD. Eh? Eh? That is really stoopit in Sir Walter. NORTH. Sir Walter again speaks of the patient's depraved imagination-and adds a word or two about association, which, if they have any meaning at all, must likewise refer to a mental, and not to a bodily disease. But it was of a bodily disease, and not of a mental disorder, that he formerly announced his ambition to speak, and to illustrate it by a tale ! SHEPHERD. The Baronet has wrote that before he had been fairly wauken'd oot o' a soon' sleep, and had got a' his wanderin' wits colleckit. One other sample of confusion of ideas, James, and I have done with Demonology. Sir Walter wishes to explain and illustrate the effect sometimes produced on the mind in sleep, by the dreamer touching with his hand some other part of his own person. SHEPHERD. I ken aboot that, he's right there. NORTH. No. He is wrong. The dreamer, says Sir Walter, is clearly in this case "both the actor and patient, both the proprietor of the member touching, and of that which is touched; while to increase the complication, the hand is both toucher of the limb on which it rests, and receives an impression of touch from it; and the same is the case with the limb, which at one and the same time receives an impression from the hand, and conveys to the mind a report respecting the size, substance, and the like, of the member touching.", That's gaen kittle. SHEPHERD. NORTH. It is so only because badly expressed-and indeed the last part of the sentence does not contain the meaning which the Baronet supposes or intends-but let that pass SHEPHERD. You're no lettn't pass, you savage. NORTH. But hark what follows. "Now, as during sleep the patient is unconscious," quoth Sir Walter," that both limbs are his own identical property, his mind is apt to be much disturbed by the complication of sensations arising from two parts of his person being at once acted upon, and from their reciprocal action; and false impressions are thus received, which, accurately enquired into, would afford a clew to many puzzling phenomena in the theory of dreams." SHEPHERD. What is a patient in sleep unconscious that baith limbs are his ain identical property ?-I canna swallow that. NORTH. But suppose we do swallow it, James, and then consequences the very reverse of those Sir Walter mentions must ensue. For by this unconscious. ness, all the complication of sensations which Sir Walter so clumsily explains the cause of, is prevented from taking place. It becomes impossible. SHEPHERD. Sae it does, sir. I never observed that afore, till you pointed it out. 'Tis anither cut-throat contradiction. NORTH. But, countrymen, lend me your ears. As an illustration of the effect of this complication of sensations that may be produced in a dream, Sir Walter tells us a story of a nobleman, who once awoke in horror, still feeling the cold dead grasp of a corpse's hand on his right wrist. It was a minute before he discovered that his own left hand was in a state of numbness, and with it he had accidentally encircled his right arm. Now, James, this story, which Sir Walter tells to illustrate how the " patient's mind was disturbed by the complication of sensations arising from two parts of his person," illustrates the very reverse, namely, how the patient's mind was disturbed, but by one simple sensation, that of a corpse's hand, his own hand being perfectly numb, that is, without sensation at all, and acting therefore precisely as a corpse's hand, or a piece of lead. So much for Sir Walter's metaphysics. SHEPHERD. Hurraw-hurraw-hurraw!-Hollo! Gurney! [The time-piece strikes Twelve-and enter St Ambrose and his Monks with a roasted goose, son of the celebrated prize-goose who won the stubble-sweepstakes in 1829; and ditto hare, the identical animal killed by Lord Eglinton's goshawk, by which he won the cup at the last meeting of the Ardrossan Coursing-Club. GURNEY emerges from the Ear of Dionysius, and the Noctes close. ON THE LATE FRENCH REVOLUTION. No. I. IT is a melancholy fact, verified by every day's observation, that the experience of the past is totally lost both upon individuals and nations. A few persons, indeed, who have attended to the history of former errors, are aware of the consequences to which they invariably lead; and lament the progress of national violence in the same way as they do the career of individual intemperance. But, upon the great mass of mankind, the young, the active, and the ambitious, such examples are wholly thrown away. Each successive generation plunges into the abyss of passion, without the slightest regard to the fatal effects which such conduct has produced upon their predecessors; and lament, when too late, the rashness with which they slighted the advice of experience, and stifled the voice of reason. It is now sixty years since Mr Hume closed the History of the English Revolution with these remarkable words: "All parties had now successively reaped the melancholy pleasure of seeing the injuries they had suffered revenged on their enemies; and that, too, by the same arts which had been practised against themselves. The King had, in some instances, stretched his prerogative beyond the due bounds, and aided by the church, had well nigh put an end to the liberties of the nation. The Presbyterians checked the progress of the court and clergy, excited by cant and hypocrisy the populace first to tumults, then to war, against the King, the Peers, and all the royalists. No sooner had they reached the pinnacle of grandeur, than the Independents, under the appearance of still greater sanctity, instigated the army against them, and reduced them to subjection. The Independents, amidst their empty dreams of liberty, were oppressed by the rebellion of their own servants, and found themselves at once exposed to the insults of power and the hatred of the people. By recent, as well as all ancient example, it was become evident, that illegal violence, with whatever pretences it may be covered, and whatever object it may pursue, must inevitably end at last in the arbitrary and despotic government of a single person."* Substitute the Constituent Assembly and their supporters for the Presbyterians-the Girondists for the Independents-the Jacobins for the Fifth-Monarchy men-Napoleon for Cromwell, and the history of the progress of the English may be taken for that of the French Revolution. Shortly after the publication of Mr Hume's history, the French Revolution broke out. The lessons of ancient, as well as of modern experience were immediately forgottenthe enthusiasm of freedom overspread Europe-a new era in the political system was anticipated, and perfect virtue expected, during the tumults of faction, as if no such names as those of Marius and Sylla, of Pompey and Octavius, of Caesar or Cromwell, had been known in the world. Forty years elapsed-a generation passed away through the lapse of time, or were mown down by the sword-new causes of complaint arose in the French nation, and a second Revolution took place. The dear-bought experience of recent times was immediately forgottenthe horrors of 1793 were passed over in silence-a new era of social happiness was anticipated-revolutionary hopes were again awakened-democratic ambition of new arose-and the mass of the people shared in the joy at the supposed triumph of freedom, as if its past consequences had been obliterated from the book of Time-as if the efforts of patriotism had not been succeeded by the rise of wickedness-humane philanthropy by revolutionary cruelty-the conquests of freedom by the reign of Robespierre. Hume, chap. lx. ad finem. |