DUGALD STEWART. cause no tedium, even though Carlisle-house is shut, and the rigid laws forbid us to enter Vauxhall, Ranelagh, and the theatres. A cheerful walk amidst rural scenes is capable of affording, in fine weather, a very sensible pleasure. In all seasons, at all hours, and in all weathers, conversation is capable of affording an exquisite delight; and books, of improving, exalting, refining, and captivating the human mind. He who calls in question the truth of this must allow his hearers to call in question his claim to rationality. The subordinate classes, for I have hitherto been speaking of the higher, seldom complain that they know not what to do on a Sunday. To them it is a joyful festival. They, for the most part, are constant attendants at church; and the decency of their habits and appearance, the cleanliness which they display, the opportunity they enjoy of meeting their neighbours in the same regular and decent situation with themselves, render Sunday highly advantageous to them, exclusively of its religious advantages. They usually fill up the intervals of divine service with a rural walk, and their little indulgences at the tea-houses are highly proper and allowable. They are confined to sedentary and laborious work during the week, and a walk in the fresh air is most conducive to their health, while it affords them a very lively pleasure, such a pleasure indeed as we have all felt in Milton's famous description of it. The common people are sufficiently delighted with such enjoyments, and would really be displeased with those public diversions which our travelled reformers have desired to introduce. 275 whose actions must carry weight with them because their characters are respected, such a spirit and unanimity as would enable the executive part of government to support itself with honour and tranquillity at home, and act with irresistible vigour abroad. Why should the present race, whether high or low, stand more in need of public diversions on a Sunday than our forefathers in the last and in the beginning of the present century? No good reason can be given. It may not indeed be improbable that the true origin of this new-created want is, that the greater part of the present race, from the defect of a religious education, or from subsequent dissipation, which is found to obliterate all serious ideas, have no relish for the proper and natural methods of spending our time on a Sunday, the performance of religious duties and the exertions of benevolence. Essays, Moral and Literary (in British DUGALD STEWART, born in Edinburgh, 1753, was Assistant (to his father) Professor of Mathematics in the University of Edinburgh, 1774-1785, sole Professor in 1785, and from 1785 to 1810 (when he relinquished the active duties of the professorship to Dr. Thomas Brown) was Professor of Moral Philosophy in the same university; died 1828. He was the author of Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, Edin. and Lond., 1792-1814-1827, 3 vols. 4to; Outlines of Moral Philosophy, Edin., 1793, 8vo; Doctor Adam Smith's Neither are they in want of disputing Essays on Philosophical Subjects, with an societies to fill up their time. There are Account of the Life and Writings of the parish-churches in abundance. After they Author, Lond., 1795, 4to; Account of the have attended at them it is far better they Life and Writings of William Robertson, should walk in the air, than be pent up in Lond., 1795, 4to; Account of the Life and a close room and putrefying air, where their Writings of Thomas Reid, D.D., Edin., 1803, health must suffer more than even in the 8vo; Philosophical Essays, Edin., 1810, 4to; exercise of their handicraft trade or voca- A General View of the Progress of Metation. But that indeed is one of the least physical, Ethical, and Political Philosophy of the evils which they must endure were since the Revival of Letters in Europe, prethey allowed to attend at every turbulent fixed to the Supplement to the Fourth and assembly which either the avaricious or the Fifth Editions of the Encyclopædia Britandiscontented may convene. Weak under-nica, Edin., 1816, 4to, Boston, Mass., 1817, standings are easily led astray by weak arguments. Their own morals and happiness, and the welfare of the church and state, are greatly interested in the suppression of those houses which were lately opened under the arrogant name of the theological schools. The act which suppressed them reflects honour on the British senate. Such acts as this would indeed excite the zeal of the good and religious on the side of the legislature, and would rouse, among those | 8vo, Part II., prefixed to Supplement, etc., vol. v., Pt. I., Edin., 1821, 4to, Boston, Mass, 1822, 8vo; The Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers of Man, Edin., 1828, 2 vols. 8vo; minor publications. Complete Works of Dugald Stewart, Cambridge, Mass., 1829 (again 1831), 7 vols. 8vo. Complete Collected Works, Edited, with Additions, by Sir William Hamilton, and Memoir of Stewart by John Veitch, Edin 1854 (again 1877), Îl vols. 8vo. "All the years I remained about Edinburgh I used as often as I could to steal into Mr. Stewart's class to hear a lecture, which was always a high treat. I have heard Pitt and Fox deliver some of their most admired speeches, but I never heard anything nearly so eloquent as some of the lec tures of Professor Stewart. The taste for the stu dies which have formed my favourite pursuits, and which will be so to the end of my life, I owe to him."-JOHN MILL. "Dugald Stewart has carried embellishment farther into the region of metaphysics than any other that has preceded him; and his embellishment is invariably consistent with perfect sobriety of taste."-ROBERT HALL. ON MEMORY. It is generally supposed that of all our faculties Memory is that which nature has bestowed in the most unequal degrees on different individuals; and it is far from being impossible that this opinion may be well founded. If, however, we consider that there is scarcely any man who has not memory sufficient to learn the use of language, and to learn to recognize, at the first glance, the appearance of an infinite number of familiar objects; besides acquiring such an acquaintance with the laws of nature, and the ordinary course of human affairs, as is necessary for directing his conduct in life, we shall be satisfied that the original disparities among men, in this respect, are by no means so immense as they seem to be at first view; and that much is to be ascribed to different habits of attention, and to a difference of selection among the various events presented to their curiosity. It is worthy of remark, also, that those individuals who possess unusual powers of memory with respect to any one class of objects, are commonly as remarkably deficient in some of the other applications of that faculty. I knew a person who, though completely ignorant of Latin, was able to repeat over thirty or forty lines of Virgil, after having heard them once read to him,-not indeed with perfect exactness, but with such a degree of resemblance as (all circumstances considered) was truly astonishing: yet this person (who was in the condition of a servant) was singularly deficient in memory in all cases in which that faculty is of real practical utility. He was noted in every family in which he had been employed for habits of forgetfulness, and could scarcely deliver an ordinary message without committing some blunder. A similar observation, I can almost venture to say, will be found to apply to by far the greater number of those in whom this faculty seems to exhibit a preternatural or anomalous degree of force. The varieties of memory are indeed wonderful, but they ought not to be confounded with inequalities of memory. One man is distinguished by a power of recollecting names, and dates, and genealogies; a second, by the multiplicity of speculations, and of general conclusions treasured up in his intellect; a third, by the facility with which words and combinations of words (the ipissima verba of of his mind; a fourth, by the quickness a speaker or of an author) seem to lay hold with which he seizes and appropriates the sense and meaning of an author, while the phraseology and style seem altogether to escape his notice; a fifth, by his memory for poetry; a sixth, by his memory for music; a seventh, by his memory for architecture, statuary, and painting, and all the other objects of taste which are addressed to the All these different powers seem mirac ulous to those who do not possess them; and as they are apt to be supposed by superficial observers to be commonly united in the same individuals, they contribute much to encourage those exaggerated estimates con cerning the original inequalities among men in respect to this faculty, which I am now endeavouring to reduce to their first standard. eye. As the great purpose to which this faculty is subservient is to enable us to collect and to retain, for the future regulation of our conduct, the results of our past experience, it is evident that the degree of perfection which it attains in the case of different persons must vary-first, with the facility of making the original acquisition; secondly, with the permanence of the acquisition; and, thirdly, with the quickness or readiness with which the individual is able, on particular occasions, to apply it to use. The qualities, therefore, of a good memory are, in the first place, to be susceptible; secondly, to be retentive: and, thirdly, to be ready. It is but rarely that these three qualities are united in the same person. We often, indeed, meet with a memory which is at once susceptible and ready; but I doubt much if such memories be commonly very retentive: for the same set of habits which are favourable to the two first qualities are adverse to the third. Those individuals, for example, who with a view to conversation, make a constant business of informing themselves with respect to the popular topics, or of turning over the ephemeral publications subservient to the amusement or to the politics fo the times, are naturally led to cultivate a susceptibility and readiness of memory, but have no inducement to aim at that permanent retention of select ideas which enables the scientific student to combine the most remote materials, and to concentrate at will, on a particular object, all the scattered WILLIAM GODWIN. REMORSE. Elements of the Philosophy of the Human 66 277 lights of his experience, and of his reflections. Such men (as far as my observation has reached) seldom possess a familiar or "Williams," said he, 'you have concorrect acquaintance even with those clas-quered! I see, too late, the greatness and sical remains of our own earlier writers elevation of your mind. I confess that it which have ceased to furnish topics of dis- is to my fault, and not yours, that it is to course to the circles of fashion. A stream the excess of jealousy that was ever burning of novelties is perpetually passing through in my bosom, that I owe my ruin. I could their minds, and the faint impressions which have resisted any plan of malicious accusait leaves soon vanish to make way for others, tion you might have brought against me. -like the traces which the ebbing tide But I see that the artless and manly story leaves upon the sand. Nor is this all. In you have told has carried conviction to every proportion as the associating principles which hearer. All my prospects are concludeď. lay the foundation of susceptibility and readi- All that I most ardently desire is forever ness predominate in the memory, those frustrated. I have spent a life of the basest which form the basis of our more solid and cruelty to cover one act of momentary vice, lasting acquisitions may be expected to be and to protect myself against the prejudices weakened, as a natural consequence of the of my species. I stand now completely degeneral laws of our intellectual frame. tected. My name will be consecrated to infamy, while your heroism, your patience, and your virtue, will be forever admired. You have inflicted on me the most fatal of all mischiefs, but I bless the hand that wounds me. And now"-turning to the magistrate" and now, do with me as you please. I am prepared to suffer all the vengeance of the law. You cannot inflict on me more than I deserve. You cannot hate me more than I hate myself. I am the most execrable of all villains. I have for many years (I know not how long) dragged on a miserable existence in insupportable pain. I am at last, in recompense of all my labours and my crimes, dismissed from it with the disappointment of my only remaining hope, the destruction of that for the sake of which alone I consented to exist. It was worthy of such a life that it should continue just long enough to witness this final overthrow. If, however, you wish to punish me, you must be speedy in your justice; for as reputation was the blood that warmed my heart, so I feel that death and infamy must seize me together!" WILLIAM GODWIN, born 1756, after officiating as a Dissenting minister 1778 to 1782, devoted himself to literary pursuits until his death, in 1836. Among his publications are the following: An Enquiry Concerning Political Justice, and its Influence on General Virtue and Happiness, Lond., 1793, 2 vols. 4to; Things as they are, or, the Adventures of Caleb Williams, Lond., 1794, 3 vols. 12mo; The Enquirer, Lond., 1797, 8vo; Memoirs of Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin, Lond., 1798, 12mo; St. Leon, a Tale of the Sixteenth Century, Lond., 1799, 4 vols. 12mo; Antonio, or The Soldier's Return, a Tragedy, Lond., 1800, 8vo: The Life of Geoffrey Chaucer, Esq., Lond., 1803, 2 vols. 4to; Fleetwood, or, The New Man of Feeling, a Novel, Lond., 1805, 3 vols. 12mo; Faulkner, a Tragedy, Lond., 1808, 8vo; An Essay on Sepulchres, Lond., 1809, cr. 8vo; The Lives of Edward and John Phillips, Nephews and Pupils of John Milton, Lond., 1815, 4to; Mandeville, a Tale of the Seventeenth Century, Edin., 1817, 3 vols. 12mo; Of Population, Lond., 1820, 8vo; History of the Commonwealth of England, Lond., 1824-28, 4 vols. 8vo; Clondesley, a Tale, Lond., 1830, Svo; Thoughts on Man, his Nature, Productions, and Discoveries, Lond., 1830, 8vo; Lives of the Necromancers, Lond., 1834, 8vo. "As a novelist Mr. Godwin is, to all intents, original; he has taken no model, but has been himself a model to the million. He heads that voluminous class of writers whose chief, nay, whose only, aim is to excite the painful sensibilities by displaying, in a rigid depth of colouring, the dark-before me. Waking or sleeping, I still be est and the blackest passions which corrupt mankind."-Lond. Gent. Mag., June, 1836. Falkland, not because I deserve them, but I record the praises bestowed on me by because they serve to aggravate the baseness of my cruelty. He survived but three days this dreadful scene. I have been his murderer. It was fit that he should praise my patience, who has fallen a victim, life and fame, to my precipitation! It would have been merciful, in comparison, if I had planted a dagger in his heart. He would have thanked me for my kindness. But, atrocious, execrable wretch that I have been, I wantonly inflicted on him an anguish a thousand times worse than death. Meanwhile I endure the penalty of my crime. His figure is ever in imagination hold him. He seems mildly to expostulate with me for my unfeeling behaviour. I live the devoted victim of conscious reproach. Alas! I am the same Caleb Williams that so short a time ago boasted that, however great were the calamities I endured, I was still innocent. Such has been the result of a project I formed for delivering myself from the evils that had so long attended me. I thought that if Falkland were dead, I should return once again to all that makes life worth possessing. I thought that if the guilt of Falkland were established, fortune and the world would smile upon my efforts. Both these events are accomplished, and it is now only that I am truly miserable. Why should my reflections perpetually centre upon myself?-self, an overweening regard to which has been the source of my errors? Falkland, I will think only of thee, and from that thought will draw ever fresh nourishment for my sorrows. One generous, one disinterested tear I will consecrate to thy ashes! A nobler spirit lived not among the sons of men. Thy intellectual powers were truly sublime, and thy bosom burned with a god-like ambition. But of what use are talents and sentiments in the corrupt wilderness of human society! It is a rank and rotten soil, from which every finer spirit draws poison as it grows. All that in a happier field and a purer air would expand into virtue and germinate into usefulness, is thus converted into henbane and deadly nightshade. Falkland! thou enteredst upon thy career with the purest and most laudable intentions. But thou imbibedst the poison of chivalry with thy earliest youth; and the base and low-minded envy that met thee on thy return to thy native seats, operated with this poison to hurry thee into madness. Soon, too soon, by this fatal coincidence, were the blooming hopes of thy youth blasted forever! From that moment thou only continuedst to live to the phantom of departed honour. From that moment thy benevolence was, in a great measure, turned into rankling jealousy and inexorable precaution. Year after year didst thou spend in this miserable project of imposture; and only at last continuedst to live long enough to see, by my misjudging and abhorred intervention, thy closing hopes disappointed, and thy death accompanied with the foulest disgrace! Caleb Williams. WILLIAM BECKFORD, styled by Lord Byron, in Childe Harold, "England's wealthiest son," and the builder of a palace at Cintra, Portugal, and of Font hill Abbey, the latter of which cost him £273,000, was born 1760, succeeded at ten years of age to a fortune of £100,000 per annum, and died in 1844. He was the author of Biographical Memoirs of Extraordinary Painters, Lond., 1780, small 8vo (anonymous); An Arabian Tale [Vathek], from an Unpublished MS., with Notes Critical and Explanatory [by Mr. Henley], Lond., 1786, small 8vo, the original in French, Lausanne, 1787, new edition, 1815, 8vo, some large paper; in English, 1809, also 1815, 8v), and 1832, 8vo; Italy, with Sketches of Spain and Portugal, in a Series of Letters written during a Residence in those Countries, Lond., 1834, 2 vols. 8vo; Recollections of an Excursion to the Monasteries of Alcobaca and Batalha [in June, 1794], Lond., 1835, 8vo. Vathek displays the hand of a master (which is apparent in all his works): "For correctness of costume, beauty of description, and power of imagination, this most Eastern and sublime tale [Vathek] surpasses all European imitations; and bears such marks of originality that those who have visited the East will have some difficulty in believing it to be more than a translation. . . . As an Eastern tale even Rasselas must bow before it: his Happy Valley will not bear comparison with the Hall of Eblis."-Lori BYRON. THE CALIPH VATHEK AND HIS PALACES. Vathek, ninth caliph of the race of the Abassides, was the son of Motassem, and the grandson of Haroun al Raschid. From an early accession to the throne, and the talents he possessed to adorn it, his subjects were induced to expect that his reign would be long and happy. His figure was pleasing and majestic; but when he was angry one of his eyes became so terrible that no person could bear to behold it; and the wretch upon whom it was fixed instantly fell backward, and sometimes expired. For fear, however, of depopulating his dominions, and making his palace desolate, he rarely gave way to his anger. Being much addicted to women, and the pleasures of the table, he sought by his affability to procure agreeable companions; and he succeeded the better as his generosity was unbounded and his indulgences unrestrained: for he did not think, with the caliph Omar Ben Abdalaziz, that it was necessary to make a hell of this world to enjoy Paradise in the next. He surpassed in magnificence all his predecessors. The palace of Alkeremi, which his father, Motassem, had erected on the hill of Pied Horses, and which commanded the whole city of Samarah, was in his idea far too scanty: he added, therefore, five wings, or rather other palaces, which he destined senses. WILLIAM BECKFORD. for the particular gratification of each of the In the first of these were tables continually covered with the most exquisite dainties, which were supplied both by night and by day, according to their constant consumption whilst the most delicious wines, and the choicest cordials, flowed forth from a hundred fountains that were never exhausted. This palace was called The Eternal, or Unsatiating Banquet. The second was styled The Temple of Melody, or The Nectar of the Soul. It was inhabited by the most skilful musicians and admired poets of the time, who not only displayed their talents within, but, dispersing in bands without, caused every surrounding scene to reverberate their songs, which were continually varied in the most delightful succession. The palace named The Delight of the Eyes, or The Support of Memory, was one entire enchantment. Rarities, collected from every corner of the earth, were there found in such profusion as to dazzle and confound, but for the order in which they were arranged. One gallery exhibited the pictures of the celebrated Mani, and statues that seemed to be alive. Here a well-managed perspective attracted the sight; there the imagic of optics agreeably deceived it; whilst the naturalist, on his part, exhibited in their several classes the various gifts that Heaven had bestowed on our globe. In a word, Vathek omitted nothing in his palace that might gratify the curiosity of those who resorted to it, although he was not able to satisfy his own, for of all men he was the most curious. Flam The Palace of Perfumes, which was termed The fifth palace, denominated The Retreat Notwithstanding the sensuality in which Vathek indulged, he experienced no abatement in the love of his people, who thought that a sovereign giving himself up to pleasure was as able to govern as one who declared himself an enemy to it. But the unquiet and impetuous disposition of the caliph would not allow him to rest there. He had The great prophet, Mahomet, whose vicars The genii obeyed; and when the workmen had raised their structure a cubit in the day time, two cubits more were added in the arose was not a little flattering to the vanity night. The expedition with which the fabric matter showed a forwardness to subserve his of Vathek: he fancied that even insensible designs, not considering that the successes of the foolish and wicked form the first rod of their chastisement. His pride arrived at its height when, having ascended for the first time the fifteen hundred stairs of his tower, he cast his eyes below, and beheld men not larger than pismires, mountains than shells, and cities than bee-hives. The idea which such an elevation inspired of his own grandeur completely behimself, till, lifting his eyes upwards, he saw wildered him; he was almost ready to adore the stars as high above him as they appeared when he stood on the surface of the earth. He consoled himself, however, for this intruding and unwelcome perception of his littleness with the thought of being great in the eyes of others; and flattered himself that the light of his mind would extend be |
