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philosopher. We are by no means equally satisfied with the explanation afterwards given of the supposed case, that A excites be without the intervention of a, by means of the similarity of the general state of mind; as this seems to be rather the stating of an appearance than the explaining of a fact.

The next objection which is taken to association as the all-sufficient expounder of mental operations, arises from its inade quacy to account for the faculty of judgment. Here again we must refer our readers to the work itself.

It is probable that neither Hartley himself, nor any of his followers, ever attained to a tolerably distinct notion of the way in which the will results from the association of ideas. The observations on this head are entitled to much attention.

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"I conceive first that volition necessarily implies thought or foresight, that is, that it is not accounted for from mere association. All voluntary action implies a view to consequences; a perception of the analogy between certain actions already given, and the particular action then to be employed; also a knowledge of the connection between certain actions and the effects to be produced by them; and lastly, a faculty of combining all these with particular circumstances so as to be able to judge how far they are likely to impede or assist the accomplishment of our purposes, in what manner it may be necessary to vary our exertions according to the nature of the case, whether a greater or less degree of force is required to produce the effect, &c. Without this discourse of reason,' this circumspection and comparison, it seems to be as impossible for the human mind to pursue any regular object, as it would be for a man, heimmed in on all sides by the walls of houses and blind alleys, to see his way clearly before him from one end of London to the other, or to go in a straight line from Westminster to Wapping. One would think it would be sufficient to state the question, in order to shew that mere association, or the mechanical recurrence of any old impressions in a certain order, which can never exactly correspond with the given circumstances, would never satisfactorily account (without the aid of some other faculty) for the complexity and subtle windings and perpetual changes in the motives of human action. On the hypothesis here spoken of, I could have no comprehensive idea of things to check any immediate passing impulse, nor should I be able to make any inference with respect to the consequences of my actions, whenever there was the least alteration in the circumstances in which I

must act."

The discussion of this difficult point is very loosely conducted, and is grievously

interrupted by incidental remarks; especially by a refutation of a certain whim of Mr. Macintosh's respecting general benevolence. Mr. Macintosh, indeed, however unmetaphysical and destitute of subtlety his lectures may have been, seems to have succeeded in making a pretty strong impression upon our author's imagination, who goes out of his way more than once to have a rencontre with him, and treats him with a degree of contempt bordering upon the abusive. We mention this as an exception to the calm and dispassionate temper that in general pervades the work.

We have already extended this article to a length that precludes our controverting the forcible objections which are here opposed to the Hartleian theory of the will. We shall only remark, en passant, as a hint to those who may wish to engage in the controversy, that this objector has not quite satisfied us that the 21st and 77th propositions in the Observations on Man are altogether nonsensical. We still think that "voluntary powers may result from association." We do not pretend to see clearly the manner how. But since the voluntary motions are acquired, and since their strength corresponds to the number and force of the associations that have been formed, we think there is some share of reason for supposing it probable that the will may depend upon, or consist in, a certain state of association; meaning however association in the extended sense understood by Hartley, and not as limited by this writer. We forbear saying more, as we are not prepared to push the discussion to the point requisite for determining the question.

After having accumulated difficulties upon the doctrine of association generally, the essayist proceeds to its supposed application against the disinterested hypothesis, and finds that it avails nothing. For, granting all the force to association which the Hartleians contend for, he ob

serves,

"That the same kind of association must apply to the interest we take in the feelings of others, though perfect strangers to us, as well. as to the interest we feel for ourselves. All that can ever take place, in the imaginary anticipation either of our own feelings or those of others, can be nothing more than some sort of transposition and modification of the old ideas of memory; or if there is any thing peculiar to this act of the mind, it is equally necessary to our feeling any interest in our own future impressions, or those of others."

This indeed is sufficiently obvious; and

had our author convinced us of the truth of his doctrine in the first part of the treatise, we should have found little difficulty in removing objections to it taken from the power of association.

The remarks on Helvetius and others are acute and pertinent. But we have already run ourselves out of breath, and are quite unable to hunt down the fresh game which this indefatigable sportsman has started.

We have no intention to criticise the. style of a work of this nature. Perspicuity is all that is expected. Our extracts however will prove that the composition possesses other merits. But we are compelled to say that the punctuation is miserably imperfect; and we must farther censure a peculiar mode of expression, repeatedly used, which is by no means elegant, and has therefore nothing to atone for its want of correctness, page 169.

Upon taking leave of this philosophical incognito, while we thank him for assist. ing us to examine the foundation of opinions long since formed, as well as for the perspicuous, neat, and satisfactory elucida tion of some obscure points in ontology, we cannot forbear advising him in the next edition of his essay, to supply us not only with a recapitulation of the heads of his argument, but likewise with an outline of his intended theory of human nature. This exercise would be of material service to himself. For he appears to have dwelt so long upon the minute and fractional parts of ideas to have divided and subdivided down to so low a point- to have been contemplating with such intensity of thought the infinity of aspects in which the ultimate speck of division may be placed, that there is some danger of his eye becoming too microscopic to take in the several bearings of an extensive system, or to survey with a steady and comprehen

"If a person should see the picture of their sive glance the scope, proportions, and ef dead father, &c." fect, of a finished whole.

By ROBERT FORSYTH, Esq. Advocate.

ART. II.-The Principles of Moral Science.
vol, I. 8vo. pp. 520.

SCOTLAND owes her literary distinction, rather to the power of her intellect, than to the delicacy of her taste, or the fruitfulness of her imagination. She has contributed little to the enrichment of poetry, painting, sculpture, and music; while metaphysics, politics, chemistry, and those departments of knowledge which are extended by the efforts of the reasoning faculty, have been cultivated and enlarged by the assiduity of her philosophers. To no subject has she applied her intellect with more industry and success, than to the philosophy of mind. The writings of the Scotch metaphysicians are numerous and valuable; and the labours of Baxter, Hume, Smith, Beattie, Campbell, Kaimes, and Reid, are contemplated with exultation by their country, and perused with instruction by the world.

In the philosophy of morals, a very considerable portion of the most valuable reasoning we possess is the produce of Scotland. The Moral Philo-ophy of Hutcheson, a work elaborate and instructive, may be reckoned among the productions of that nation, as the author, although an Irishman by birth, received his education, and enjoyed his celebrity, in Scotland. Adam Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments is among the most valuable works

on the subject. It displays penetrating observation, and amusing ingenuity; and although we may not agree with the fandamental principles of the book, yet it contains numerous remarks on the operations of mind, profound and valuable. But Mr. Hume's Enquiry into the Origin of Moral Distinctions, is the most satis factory solution of this interesting subject that is to be found among our ethic treatises. The reasoning is luminous and natural; the author seems to have followed the straight and obvious path, and to have ar rived with facility at the truth. The explanation is at once clear, ingenious, and convincing. The work which we are about to examine is the production of a Scotch advocate. It is one volume of a work which may possibly be extended to a second, or a third. It is divided into three parts. The first treats of the ultimate object of human pursuit, of the moral qualities, of former systems of morality, and moral duties. The second, of the qualities of the mind, its powers and passions. The third, of religion. The book commences with an attempt to dis tinguish the moral from every other science. According to Mr. Forsyth, all sciences treat of what has been, except moral science; whose subject is not what has been, but what ought to be. This

distinction is inaccurate. The moralist must learn what has been, before he can know what ought to be. The chemist investigates the products of his compositions, and the results of his analyses: he searches for the particular effects which follow particular chemical changes. The moralist searches for the particular consequences which follow particular actions. The chemist assumes that the same change, which now produces a given effect, will always continue to produce it. The moralist assumes that the same actions will generally be followed by the same consequences. The chemist shows how his knowledge may be made subservient to the conveniences of life; and the moralist points out those actions which will lead to happiness, and those which will lead to misery. Both enquire what has been, and what is, that they may know what ought to be. This attempted dis

tinction therefore has failed.

The author next proceeds to state his opinion of the ultimate object of human pursuit on this subject all men have agreed, both in doctrine and in conduct. The attainment of happiness, in some state of existence, has formed the basis of all systems of morality, and the object of all human pursuit. The author has evolved a doctrine, of which no one will dispute the originality, but many we believe will question the accuracy. From the diffuse and declamatory manner in which it is stated, we should have attempted an abridgement, had not the doctrine been so singular, (we had almost said so ridiculous,) that we might have been suspected of mistaking the meaning of the author. We shall endeavour to pick out those paragraphs which contain the most condensed statement.

"It appears to me then, that the great object which the human race ought to pursue, and the attainment of which they ought to regard as the business of their lives, is not to produce happiness, pleasure, or felicity, in themselves or others; but that, on the contrary, the end for which they were formed, and which alone they can pursue with success, is the improvement of their whole intellectual faculties, whether speculative or active. In one word, it is the business of man in this world to endeavour to become an excellent

being, possessing high powers of energy and intelligence. This is his chief good; and ought to be the great and ultimate object of his pursuit, to which every other consideration ought to be sacrificed.

"If this principle, that intellectual excellence or the perfection of the mind and of its

rational powers, is the most important and valuable object of human pursuit, can be clearly established, it will follow, that those actions are good, and right, and best, which produce, not happiness or pleasure, but the intellectual perfection in the world; and that greatest portion of knowledge, ability, and those actions are the worst, which produce, or have a tendency to produce, not suffering, but the greatest degree of ignorance, of stupidity and of intellectual weakness and degra dation. It will even follow, that the rulers of nations (though they are seldom so well employed) do actually misapply their labour, and mistake their duty, when they imagine that their proper business consists in conferring felicity upon their fellow-creatures.

64

I shall here endeavour to prove, that the great task, to the performance of which the existence of every inan ought to be devoted, consists of two brauches: first, to produce the intellectual improvement of his own individual mind and character; and, secondly, to produce the improvement of the minds of other

rational beings.

afford

"I. 1st. In all undertakings, the first question among rational men is uniformly this: Supposing us to engage in a particular pursuit, what prospect have we of success? The object of the undertaking may be great and valuable; but if there is no reason to expect that the pursuit of it can prosper, it is justly disregarded as an idle project that will never precisely the case with regard to happiness. It is no doubt a fine thing if it could be attained; but none ever pursued it with success. It is like the country in the romance, in which the stores of the field are all gems and gold, and in which overflowing plenty abounds: it is a fine country, but nobody can go there.

reward for our efforts, This is

any

"It is scarcely necessary to attempt to prove, by arguments, that a state of happiness cannot be attained in this world. The history of mankind, both in ancient and modern times, sufficiently establishes the fact. Some have expected to find felicity in riches; others have sought it from power, from pleasure, and even from fair and upright conduct: but they have all been unsuccessful. Disappointments have awaited them; and bad health, or other unforeseen calamities, have rendered their efforts fruitless. Even when no visible cause of infelicity existed, it has been found impossible to enjoy a high degree of happiness for any long period, merely because all human pleasure diminishes by a repetition of enjoyment.

"Good health, and a natural cheerfulness of temper, produce as high a degree of happiness as we are capable of enjoying for any length of time. But these we cannotbestow upon ourselves; although we may no doubt throw them away. The true state of the case seems to be this: A certain limited degree or portion of pleasure is enjoyed by man in this world; but this portion or degree is not pros

duced by human labour or industry. It is a gift bestowed by the Author of our existence, and arises not from any contrivance on our part. It is even given with little appearance of discrimination. The young and the old, the high and the low, the rich and the poor, the wise and the foolish, are all nearly upon a level with regard to it. Like the rain, or the light of heaven, it comes freely, or not at all; insomuch, that those men who have seriously engaged in the pursuit of happiness have uniformly confessed, that all anxiety and labour concerning it are absurd, as they enjoy it

most who court it least."

"The contrary of all this takes place with regard to the perfection of our intellectual character. It is not bestowed, but may be gradually acquired. We are all born equally ignorant, and equally feeble. Some do indeed appear to possess more quickness of apprehen sion than others; but this inequality is easily rectified by superior industry: and those men never fail to attain to the highest degrees of intellectual excellence, who pursue it steadily, and make it most completely the business of their lives. An infant has none of it. A man always has a portion of it; and he is always capable of acquiring more of it than he actually possesses; for there is no end of the degrees in which it may be attained.

This being the true state of things, it is evident that happiness cannot, in this world, be justly regarded as a rational object of pursuit, as it must always be pursued in vain. The great error with regard to it consists in supposing that it can be attained, or that it can be increased, by our efforts, and in forgetting that it cannot be purchased by a price; that wherever it comes, it comes as a gift from heaven; and that our nature cannot rise by industry to the possession of higher degrees of it. But an excellent or improved mind is never given: it is always purchased; and the progress we are capable of making in it is unbounded."

In the most important parts of this extract the author declaims rather than argues, he dogmatizes rather than proves : that an equal portion of happiness is enjoyed by every individual, and that this happiness is independant of his exertion, he certainly states; but he leaves his reader to guess by what process of reasoning he canie to these conclusions. Surely Mr. Forsyth will not deny that a man perfect in body, and cultivated in mind, raised by fortune above the fear of poverty, preserved by judgment from inaccuracy of conduct, and blest in his pursuits with universal success; a being enjoying all the pleasures of sense, possessing the gratifications of prosperity, and commanding the delights of intellectual culture; surely such a being as this enjoys a portion of happiness far greater than the man un

healthy, stupid, poor, and unfortunate; deprived of the pleasures of sense by disease, and of the pleasures of intellect by mental imbecility; who suffers under the inconveniences and trembles at the terrors of poverty, whose every action is a blunder, and every pursuit a failure. These are not imaginary characters only; they are frequently to be found in the world. The happiness enjoyed by different individuals, although seldom existing in such different proportions, is very unequally distributed. Again, can we doubt for a moment that much of the happiness of life depends on a skilful government of our actions, i. e. on human exertion? Does it not make us temperate, and thus produce the ease of health? Does it not make our conduct accurate, and thus afford us the cheerfulness of prosperity? Does it not enrich our minds, and thus open to us the pleasures of intellectual culture? There can be little doubt therefore that happiness is considerably the fruit of human exertion, and consequently a fit object of pursuit. We would examine Mr. Forsyth's arguments against this opinion. but he has given us no arguments for refutation. But even granting that we are wrong in the foregoing reasoning; and supposing with him that human happiness is equally distributed among mankind, and cannot be increased by them; and sup posing also that intellect is as attainable as he is determined to think; we still deng that such a being as man should endeavour to attain it, unless as a means of procuring happiness. Such is the nature of man that happiness alone is adapted to his apperites. It is the essence of value; it is the principle of good, and every thing which is desirable is desirable for producing it. This is an ultimate fact which we cannot pass, in our speculations on the comparative value of human possessions, If intellect may be acquired at will, (a doctrine extremely consolatory to the student ardent with the love of faine) it does not follow that it ought to be pur sued for its own sake. The possibility does not prove the value or the propriety of an acquisition. Intellect is valuable not for itself, but as it multiplies the sources of our pleasure.

The chapter on the human understanding, and its subordinate faculties, is executed in many parts with inexcusable slovenliness, and incomprehensible obscurity, It contains nothing new, and the reader will frequently be offended by a want of clearness or accuracy.

"The voluntary power of the mind or the will is exerted in three ways: in commanding those muscles of the body by which its various movements are performed; in directing the senses towards particular objects; and in performing the office of recollection or voluntary memory. This last office, the voluntary power or will accomplishes thus: it arrests the train of our ideas or remembrances, till a particular idea can be deliberately perceived, and its difference from every other idea felt or known; or the will alters the current of our present ideas, that others, to which we wish to attend, may have an opportunity of presenting themselves.

"These two qualities or faculties of perception, and voluntary power or will, constitute the understanding or intellect; and with the aid of the subordinate faculties of sensation and involuntary memory, they form what is called the mind of man.

"The perfection of the perceptive power is wisdom. It is capable of unlimited inprovement; because there is no end of the degrees of acuteness and accuracy of discrimination which it may acquire: and the number of objects upon which it may be exerted is unbounded." The perfection of the will or voluntary power constitutes attention in speculation; and selt-command, fortitude or intrepidity in action and in suffering. Its possible improvement is also unlimited; although it is easier to conceive its arrival at complete perfection, than the arrival of the perceptive faculty at the same point, inasmuch as it seems more practicable to attain to complete self-command, than to attain to a perfect perception or knowledge of the boundless

works of nature."

In the three modes in which volition is said to be exercised, the first and second are identical. We direct our senses to particular objects, by muscular exertion. It is by certain muscles that the eyes are turned to visible objects, that the tongue is applied to distinguish tastes, that odoriferous substances are drawn into the nostrils, in short that our several senses are directed to their appropriate objects. If by "directing the senses to particular objects" the author means the attention of the mind to impressions made on the senses, the statement is obscure.

The definition of wisdom is new. Perception is the act of the mind in perceiving ideas, and it perceives well when it perceives vividly. According to the author, therefore, wisdom consists in the vividness of the ideas of sense and memory; and a wise man is he who smells, tastes, feels, hears, and sees, with uncommon acuteness, and who remembers with the distinctness of reality. But wisdom commonly means the perfection of reason;

and reason consists in being able to call up, to compare, and otherwise to act upon our ideas at will. Wisdom therefore consists in the complete subordination of ideas to volition; and a wise man is he, who with a slight exertion of will, is able to move or fix, or otherwise act upon, his ideas.

"II. Memory is almost entirely the creature of the understanding, or is produced by the joint efforts of the perceptive and voluntary powers. That a sensation may be remembered, it is necessary that an exertion of the will, or, as it is called, an act of attention, should be exerted. By this exertion of the will, two things are performed: the object of sense is distinctly exhibited, or, as it were, forced upon the notice of the perceptive faculty; and at the same time the perception is noted down in the memory as in a book or record.

"Where no attention is exerted, no impression appears to be made upon the memory. Hence, when occupied about an interesting affair, a clock may strike beside us, and an instant thereafter we shall forget that we heard it. Accordingly, in common life, the reason most frequently assigned for forgetting an occurrence is, that we gave no attention to it."

Nothing can be more obscure and unprecise than these observations on memory. In voluntary remembrance, a train of ideas is certainly forced upon the perceptive faculty. At that time we perceive the ideas distinctly, and are able by this exertion of volition to perform the same action with more facility in future. The links which bind the ideas together become strengthened, and they follow each other with more readiness. We suppose this to be the meaning of the author, when he says that "by remembering, the perception is noted down in the memory as in a book or record," but the illustration rather tended to darken than to illuminate the idea. The paragraph immediately following it is equally open to criticismi. When the mind is fixed by some interesting object, and a clock strikes near, it makes no impression upon the perceptive faculty. The motion of the clock produces the accustomed vibration in the air, this vibration produces a tremulous motion in the drum of the ear, and the motion extends along the nerve to the brain, but the mind does not receive any impression: a few minutes after the mind does not remember that the clock struck because it cannot remember what it has not previously perceived by sense. But the author when he says, that " where no

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