seemed to lie chiefly on the confines of poetry, metaphysics, and rhetoric; and in treating of the emotions of the mind, which • border on all these, he met with the subject most congenial to • his powers. It is striking to observe, how the peculiarities of

each mind display themselves in the partial clearness of each individual's views. Dr. Brown, who has treated best of the • emotions themselves, has failed in the analysis of the mental * operations which accompany them, while Mr. Stuart, who has • rather passed over the emotions themselves, has been more successful in enumerating the processes of our more active powers.'-pp. 291, 292.

In another place Mr. Douglas says, 'Dr. Brown claims to be a • discoverer in metaphysics, and his discoveries are such as few plagiarists will seek to deprive him of. Dr. Brown is certainly not free from errors; but the services he has rendered to mental philosophy ought to be a sufficient protection from language like this. We forbear to comment on it further.

But it is time we should now proceed to give some further account of Mr. Douglas's work. It is divided into two parts, the first of which is entitled Speculative Opinions, and is a rapid sketch of the peculiarities of the principal theories from the earliest times to the present day. It occupies nearly half the volume. But though the salient points of the chief systems are judiciously seized, and the statements are every where perspicuous, yet there is so great a disproportion between the topics and the space allotted to them; the review is necessarily so rapid ; names and systems crowd so fast upon us, that we fear that those who are not pretty well read in that dark subject--the history of philosophy, will not be likely to derive very much benefit from it. Indeed, for this reason we almost wish that the sketch of the progress of ancient pbilosophy, unless it had been treated at much greater length, had been omitted, and that our author had commenced with the revival of letters, and confined himself to the British schools. Yet we should have been very sorry, after all, to lose some of the brilliant passages which this portion of the work contains. Take, for example, the following graphic description of the versatile Socrates ; the Socrates of Plato at all events, and we suppose, as far as regards his habits and manners, the Socrates of real life also: for though Plato has made Socrates advocate many opinions which he certainly would not have owned, it is not to be supposed that one of so exquisite dramatic skill as Plato, would fail to exhibit the external peculiarities of Socrates to the very life.

* The sophists, amongst whom Protagoras may be considered a distinguished leader, furnished with the sceptical arguments of the Eleatics, and prepared and practised to speak upon either side of every

question, were perplexing the boundaries of right and wrong, truth and falsehood, when the genius of Socrates arose salutary light to Greece, and more than revived the spirit of ancient philosophy. The father of Socrates was a statuary, and the additional aid of his mother was required whenever the Athenian matrons invoked the assistance of Lucina. And to this it were needless to advert, did not Socrates in a spiritual sense consider himself of his mother's profession, and borrow his metaphors from it, when adverting to the education of the mental faculties, instead of drawing more beautiful allusions from the profession of his father. We have the portrait of Socrates, it appears, by universal consent, in the image of Silenus, or of the satyrs, but what hand, save that of Shakspeare, could draw the effigies of his mind-so versatile, and almost contradictory. The stranger who observed him must first have been struck with his appearance, and then with his manners,—so like, and yet so unlike the Sophists ; every where, and at all times in the open air, generally in the public places, accosting all who would converse with him, and the Athenians were by no means averse to display their talents in conversation ; by his irony and profession of ignorance inflating the vanity and self-importance, in the first instance, of the persons whom he addressed ; then striking them, as they expressed it, with the benumbing touch of the torpedo, when he forced upon them the conviction that their ignorance was real, and that his was only assumed. The mortification of some, the anger of others, and the derision of the surrounding idlers, might be suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Xanthippe, in her peculiar style of eloquence recalling her husband to the consideration of his domestic affairs, and when arguments were ineffectual, extending her hand, and rending away his cloak; while the spectators loudly encouraged Socrates to return blow for blow, Socrates replying, 'No, by Jupiter ; all you want is, that you may cry out in turns, while we are using our fists, Well done, Socrates-well done, Xanthippe ! No wonder and small blame that Aristophanes should mistake Socrates for one of the Sophists whom he opposed, and should judge his face two admirable for a mask to be omitted in his comedy. But how different is Socrates in the day of battle. Alcibiades is in danger, or Xenophon lies bleeding on the ground, and the genius of Homer alone can do justice to the lion-like retreat of the sage—rather Ulysses already represents him, rousing his magnanimous heart to stand firm, whilst the bravest of the Greeks are deserting the contest around him. The stern and promi. nent eyes of Socrates turn upon every side, like the eyes of the bull when spurning the ground, and preparing to rush upon the enemy; but the hostile spears respect him and pause, and he bears upon his back the most beautiful of the Greeks (a satyr carrying the youthful Apollo -a mudel of contrast for the statuary),—and preserves Alcibiades for the ruin of Athens, and Xenophon to be the saviour of the ten thousand Grecian heroes.

· Again, what a contrast at the banquet of Agathon. The beautiful Agathon expects the admirer of the beautiful in vain ; Socrates sits in the vestibule plunged in deep thought-in such a trance of meditation as occupied him at the siege of Potidea for a day and a night, insensible

to the clash of arms and to the misery of war. The attendants long seek to rouse him, and when he does join the party, he still seems of another world. But Alcibiades appears, with all the graces of person and gifts of mind, to do honour to the festival of Agathon, and compares Socrates to the images of Silenus that were ordinarily to be met with for sale—that were rough and horrid without, but which opened and divided into two, and then you beheld the exquisite images of the gods within. He then bears testimony to the steadiness of Socrates' head, who, though he drank as much as any one, had never yet been seen intoxicated- who delighted his companions by his cheerfulness and se. renity amidst the hardships of war, while he traversed the field of battle with as much composure as if he were pacing up and down his accustomed walk in the Agora of Athens ; then he speaks of the fascination of his conversation, which, like the melody of Marsyas, charmed not only when performed by an exquisite musician, but even when repeated by the stupid and the illiterate. Then Socrates, whether warmed by the praise, the wine, or the presence of his two beautiful friends, shows himself, even in the friendly description of Plato, more in the character of Silenus or the satyrs, than of those celestial intelligences that were supposed to inhabit his breast.

Again, we behold him in a different point of view, when, for a wonder, he leaves the streets of Athens, and breathes the air of the neighbouring fields. Unsandled, as usual, he wades with bare feet through the cool current of the Ilissus, his friend following him, urged by his example ; and they find the chillness of the water not unpleasant, from the time of the year and of the day. Socrates, as unused to rural scenes, admires the lofty plenes, the consecrated fountain that gushed out at their feet, the reviving breeze of spring, that sighed through the branches, and the scent of the opening blossoms; yet spoke of this easy and neighbouring pleasure as one in which he would but seldom indulge. The country taught him nothing : he must be ever learning, and from the conversation of the men in the city—those conversations which brought upon him universal odium, a violent death to himself, and a lasting disgrace to his country.

• Knowledge, according to Socrates, is the only good, and ignorance the only evil; but knowledge, with Socrates, stands for the knowledge and practice of duty. Happiness consists in the observance of duty. To the practice of virtue we require two things,-self-knowledge and self-control. The deity is the foundation of duty and of morals. He is discerned internally and externally, from the nature of the mind, and from the structure of the universe. Socrates himself practised strict and habitual temperance, grounded upon the maxim, that he who has the fewest wants approaches nearest to the divine nature. The best State is that, where the greatest encouragement and largest rewards are proposed to virtue. Tried by this rule, how low would his native Athens stand in the scale of governments; and yet, in condemning him to drink the poisoned cup, it conferred upon him a nobler and more lasting immortality than if it had enrolled him among his country's gods, and erected altars to his worship.

Socrates is to be admired for what he thought himself--for his few

tenets, but of excellent use still more for what he did not think, for the vain and frivolous disputes which he rejected—most of all, for the thoughts which he excited (and this he considered his proper vocation) in the minds of others.'—pp. 35-39.

The second part of Mr. Douglas's work is divided into nine sections. The first is on · Perception ;' the second on Memory

and Suggestion;' the third on The Train of Thought;' the fourth on Reasoning and Logic;' the fifth on · Emotions; the sixth on · Taste;' the seventh on • Freedom and the Will;' the eighth on · Morals ;' the ninth on · Religion.'

One of the longest and best sections (though there are a few insulated statements to which we cannot subscribe) is that on • Perception ;' in which Mr. Douglas traces with great clearness the history of the controversies on this subject; discriminates between sensation and perception; points out with great beauty the manner in which the several senses, though so distinct in their nature, and the intimations they bring us, conspire with one another, and enrich us with powers which could not be conferred by any of the senses alone. This is especially shown in the manner in which the two senses of touch and vision aid one another.-On these subjects our author does ample justice to the merits of Berkeley and Reid; and points out with great beauty the arguments derived from this part of our constitution in support of natural theology. The following remarks are well worthy of attention.

· They arise, first, from the arbitrary nature of perception---our perceptions are limited, and limited by intelligent choice,-our senses perceive only what it is useful that they should be informed of, and not what they would necessarily, or even naturally attend to. According to the theory of materialism, it is the changes of the brain of which we are sensible; on the contrary, the immediate act of perception knows nothing of the brain, nor of the nerves. It overleaps all these in the chain of changes, and has its attention at once fixed upon the objects which it is useful for it to know.

Another series of proofs arises from the adaptation of the senses to their proper objects. It is evident, that if the unaided eye had the power of the microscope, or of the telescope, in either case, it would have been less fitted, if not altogether useless, for the actual purposes of life.

• A third series of proofs arises from the adaptation of the senses to each other. To take the same illustration : had the eye been similar to the microscope, we should have been in a considerable degree deprived of the largest source of information, acquired vision. The sight would no longer have corresponded to the touch. Berkeley excellently remarks: “A microscope brings us as it were into a new world ; it presents us with a new scene of visible objects, quite different from

what we behold with the naked eye. But herein consists the most remarkable difference, to wit, that whereas the objects perceived by the eye alone, have a certain connexion with tangible objects whereby we are taught to perceive what will ensue upon the approach or application of distant objects to the parts of our own body, which much conduceth to its preservation ; there is not the like connexion between things tangible, and those visible objects that are perceived by help of a fine microscope.'

'A fourth series of proofs arises, as we have shown, from the adaptation of the general structure of the mind to the senses by which their scattered notices are united, harmonized, and in their varied information, reduced, with the other notions we acquire through other channels, into one corresponding whole.

• While there are so many more obvious proofs of design, and so ably insisted upon in the admirable work of Paley, it is needless to dwell upon those which may appear to partake somewhat of the obscurity of the subject. But it is our highest wisdom, and should be our chief delight, to trace the operation of the Deity in every work of his hands ; not to rest the argument upon inferences, which, however demonstrable, are remote from ordinary observation, and foreign to the usual habits of thought ; but having the argument already placed on an undoubted basis, and in a demonstrative, though popular form, to point out occasionally, though briefly, the immense accessions which these arguments might receive, if every field of knowledge were laid under its due contribution.'--pp. 189-192.

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It is now pretty generally admitted that Reid in his hostility to the ideal system, and in his eagerness to destroy it root and branch, interpreted the word idea,' as it occurs in Locke and many other modern writers, far too rigidly; in fact, as though it had been intended to denote existences objective to the mind, instead of meaning much the same as thoughts' or ' notions.' Even Mr. Douglas seems to admit this; his words are, 'It perhaps must also be acknowledged, that, in some respects, Reid • has not made sufficient allowance for the use of the word idea in other authors, nor adequately discriminated the varying shades of meaning attached to it, how far it was metaphorical, or to what extent it imposed upon the writer's own mind.' And yet he seems to censure Dr. Brown for having said. The confuta* tion of mere metaphors, such as I cannot but think the images in the mind to have been, which Dr. Reid so powerfully assailed, seems an undertaking not very different from that of exposing, "syllogistically and seriously, all the follies of Grecian Paganism,

as a system of theological belief, in the hope of converting some * unfortunate poetaster or poet, who still talks, in his rhyming to

his mistress, of Cupid and the Graces. Now with whatever undue warmth Dr. Brown may have spoken of Reid's efforts against the ideal system, he here evidently refers to his mistaken

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