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revere, and whose kindness has been to us no small part of the happiness of our life.
Is it possible to perceive this general proportion of our desire of giving happiness, in its various degrees, to the means which we possess, in various circumstances of affording it, without admiration of an arrangement so simple in the principles from which it flows, and at the same time so effectual-an arrangement which exhibits proofs of goodness in our very wants, of wisdom in our very weaknesses, by the adaptation of these to each other, and by the ready resources which want and weakness find in these affections which everywhere surround them, like the presence and protection of God himself?
responds with the tender esteem that is felt in love. There is the mere wish of happiness to them-a wish which itself, indeed, is usually denominated love, and which may without any inconvenience be so denominated in that general humanity which we call a love of mankind, but which we must always remember does not afford, on analysis, the same results as other affections of more cordial regard to which we give the same name. To love a friend is to wish his happiness indeed, but it is to have other emotions at the same instant, emotions without which this mere wish would be poor to constant friendship. To love the natives of Asia or Africa, of whose individual ,virtues or vices, talents or imbecility, wisdom or ignorance, we know nothing, is to wish their happiness; "O humanity!' exclaims Philocles in the Travels but this wish is all which constitutes the faint and of Anacharsis, generous and sublime inclination, feeble love. It is a wish, however, which, unless announced in infancy by the transports of a simple when the heart is absolutely corrupted, renders it im- tenderness, in youth by the rashness of a blind but possible for man to be wholly indifferent to man; and happy confidence, in the whole progress of life by the this great object is that which nature had in view. facility with which the heart is ever ready to contract She has by a provident arrangement, which we cannot attachment! O cries of nature! which resound from but admire the more the more attentively we examine one extremity of the universe to the other, which it, accommodated our emotions to our means, making fill us with remorse when we oppress a single human our love most ardent where our wish of giving happi- being; with a pure delight when we have been able ness might be most effectual, and less gradually and to give one comfort! love, friendship, beneficence, less in proportion to our diminished means. From sources of a pleasure that is inexhaustible! Men the affection of the mother for her new-born infant, are unhappy only because they refuse to listen to which has been rendered the strongest of all affections, your voice; and, ye divine authors of so many blessbecause it was to arise in circumstances where affec-ings! what gratitude do those blessings demand! If tion would be most needed, to that general philan- all which was given to man had been a mere instinct, thropy which extends itself to the remotest stranger that led beings, overwhelmed with wants and evils, on spots of the earth which we never are to visit, and to lend to each other a reciprocal support, this might which we as little think of ever visiting as of exploring have been sufficient to bring the miserable near to any of the distant planets of our system, there is a the miserable; but it is only a goodness, infinite as scale of benevolent desire which corresponds with the yours, which could have formed the design of asnecessities to be relieved, and our power of relieving sembling us together by the attraction of love, and of them, or with the happiness to be afforded, and our diffusing, through the great associations which cover power of affording happiness. How many opportu- the earth, that vital warmth which renders society nities have we of giving delight to those who live in eternal by rendering it delightful.' our domestic circle, which would be lost before we could diffuse it to those who are distant from us!
Our love, therefore, our desire of giving happiness, our pleasure in having given it, are stronger within the limits of this sphere of daily and hourly intercourse than beyond it. Of those who are beyond this sphere, the individuals most familiar to us are those whose happiness we must always know better how to promote than the happiness of strangers, with whose particular habits ard inclinations we are little if at all acquainted. Our love, and the desire of general happiness which attends it, are therefore, by the concurrence of many constitutional tendencies of our nature in fostering the generous wish, stronger as felt for an intimate friend than for one who is scarcely known to us. If there be an exception to this gradual scale of importance according to intimacy, it must be in the case of one who is absolutely a stranger-a foreigner who comes among a people with whose general manners he is perhaps unacquainted, and who has no friend to whose attention he can lay claim from any prior intimacy. In this case, indeed, it is evident that our benevolence might be more usefully directed to one who is absolutely unknown, than to many who are better known by us, that live in our very neighbourhood, in the enjoyment of domestic loves and friendships of their own. Accordingly we find, that by a provision which might be termed singular, if we did not think of the universal bounty and wisdom of God-a modification of our general regard has been prepared in the sympathetic tendencies of our nature for this case also. There is a species of affection to which the stranger gives birth merely as being a stranger. He is received and sheltered by our hospitality almost with the zeal with which our friendship delights to receive one with whom we have live in cordial union, whose virtues we know and
The Discourse on Ethical Philosophy (already alluded to), by SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH, and his review of Madame de Staël's Germany in the Edinburgh Review, unfold some interesting speculations on moral science. He agrees with Butler, Stewart, and the most eminent preceding moralists, in admitting the supremacy of the moral sentiments; but he proceeds a step further in the analysis of them. He attempts to explain the origin and growth of the moral faculty, or principle, derived from Hartley's Theory of Association, and insists repeatedly on the value of utility, or beneficial tendency, as the great test or criterion of moral action. Some of the positions in Mackintosh's Discourse were combated with unnecessary and unphilosophical asperity by JAMES MILL, author of an able Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind, 1829, in an anonymous Fragment on Mackintosh. Mill was a bold and original thinker, but somewhat coarse and dogmatical. Among the recent works on mental philosophy may be mentioned Abercrombie's Inquiry into the Intellectual Powers, and his Philosophy of the Moral Feelings. A Treatise on the Formation and Publication of Opinions, by MR BAYLEY, follows out some of the views of Dr Brown in elegant and striking language. The Essay on the Nature and Principles of Taste, by the REV. ARCHIBALD ALISON, is an elegant metaphysical treatise, though the doctrine which it aims at establishing partakes of the character of a paradox, and has accordingly failed to enter into the stock of our established ideas. The theory of Alison is, that material objects appear beautiful or sublime in consequence of their association with our moral feelings-that it is as they are significant of mental qualities that they become entitled to these appellations. This theory was ably illustrated by Mr Jeffrey in the Edinburgh Review,
in a paper which was afterwards expanded into an Essay on Beauty for the Encyclopædia Britannica. The book and the essay can now only be considered as remarkable examples of that misapplication of talent and labour which is incidental to the infancy of science-the time of its dreams.
The Scottish metaphysical school, of which Stewart, Brown, and Alison may be said to have been the last masters, will ever hold a high place in public estimation for the qualities which have been attributed to it; but it must be owned to have failed in producing any permanent impression on mankind: nor have we been brought by all its labours nearer to a just knowledge of mind as the subject of a science. The cause of this assuredly is, that none of these writers have investigated mind as a portion of nature, or in connexion with organization. Since the Scottish school began to pass out of immediate notice, this more philosophical mode of inquiry has been pursued by Dr Gall and his followers, with results which, though they have excited much prejudice, are nevertheless received by a considerable portion of the public. The leading doctrines of Gall are, that the brain is the organ of the mind, that various portions of the encephalon are the organs of various faculties of the mind, and that volume or size of the whole brain and its various parts is, other circumstances being equal, the measure of the powers of the mind and its various faculties in individuals. This system is founded upon observation—that is to say, it was found that large brains, unless when of inferior quality, or in an abnormal condition, were accompanied by superior intellect and force of character; also that, in a vast number of instances which were accurately noticed, a large development of a special part of the brain was accompanied by an unusual demonstration of a certain mental character, and never by the opposite. From these demonstrations the fundamental cha
racter of the various faculties was at length eliminated. Thus it happens that phrenology, as this system has been called, while looked on by many as a dream, is the only hypothesis of mind in which scientific processes of investigation have been followed, or for which a basis can be shown in nature. Among the British followers of Gall, the chief place is due to Mr George Combe of Edinburgh, author of a System of Phrenology, The Constitution of Man Considered in Relation to External Objects, &c.
[Distinction between Power and Activity.]
There is a great distinction between power and activity of mind; and it is important to keep this difference in view. Power, strictly speaking, is the capability of thinking, feeling, or perceiving, however small in amount that capability may be; and in this sense it is synonymous with faculty: action is the exercise of power; while activity denotes the quickness, great or small, with which the action is performed, and also the degree of proneness to act. The distinction between power, action, and activity of the mental faculties, is widely recognized by describers of human nature. Thus Cowper says of the more violent affective faculties of man :
"His passions, like the watery stores that sleep
To frown, and roar, and shake his feeble form.'-Hope. Again :
'In every heart
Are sown the sparks that kindle fiery war; Occasion needs but fan them, and they blaze.' -The Task, B. 5.
Dr Thomas Brown, in like manner, speaks of latent propensities; that is to say, powers not in action. | 'Vice already formed,' says he, is almost beyond our power: it is only in the state of latent propensity that we can with much reason expect to overcome it by the moral motives which we are capable of presenting:' and he alludes to the great extent of knowledge of human nature requisite to enable us to distinguish this propensity before it has expanded itself, and even before it is known to the very mind in which it exists, and to tame those passions which are never to rage.' In Crabbe's Tales of the Hall a character is thus described :
'He seemed without a passion to proceed, Or one whose passions no correction need; Yet some believed those passions only slept, And were in bounds by early habit kept.'
'Nature,' says Lord Bacon, will be buried a great time, and yet revive upon the occasion or temptation; like as it was with Esop's damsel, turned from a cat to a woman, who sat very demurely at the board's end till a mouse ran before her.' In short, it is plain that we may have the capability of feeling an emotion—as anger fear, or pity-and that yet this power may be inactive, insomuch that, at any particular time, these emotions may be totally absent from the mind; and it is no less plain, that we may have the capability of seeing, tasting, calculating, reasoning, and composing music, without actually performing these operations.
It is equally easy to distinguish activity from action and power. When power is exercised, the action may be performed with very different degrees of rapi dity. Two individuals may each be solving a problem in arithmetic, but one may do so with far greater quickness than the other; in other words, his faculty of Number may be more easily brought into action. much power with little activity; while he who can He who solves abstruse problems slowly, manifests quickly solve easy problems, and them alone, has culates difficult problems with great speed, manifests much activity with little power. The man who calin a high degree both power and activity of the faculty
mous with strength, or much power, instead of denot As commonly employed, the word power is synonying mere capacity, whether much or little, to act; while by activity is usually understood much quickness of action, and great proneness to act. As it is desirable, however, to avoid every chance of ambiguity, I shall employ the words power and activity in the sense first before explained; and to high degrees of power I shall apply the terms energy, intensity, strength, or vigour; while to great activity I shall apply the terms vivacity, agility, rapidity, or quickness.
In physics, strength is quite distinguishable from quickness. The balance-wheel of a watch moves with much rapidity, but so slight is its impetus, that a hair would suffice to stop it; the beam of a steam-engine progresses slowly and massively through space, but its energy is prodigiously great.
In muscular action these qualities are recognized with equal facility as different. The greyhound bounds over hill and dale with animated agility; but a slight obstacle would counterbalance his momentum, and arrest his progress. The elephant, on the other hand, rolls slowly and heavily along; but the impetus of his motion would sweep away an impediment suthcient to resist fifty greyhounds at the summit of their speed.
In mental manifestations (considered apart from organization), the distinction between energy and vivacity is equally palpable. On the stage Mrs Siddons and Mr John Kemble were remarkable for the solemn deliberation of their manner, both in declama.
more active than another, without reference to size, just as the optic nerve is sometimes more irritable than the auditory; but this is by no means a common occurrence. Exercise greatly increases activity as well as power, and hence arise the benefits of education. Dr Spurzheim thinks that long fibres produce more activity, and thick fibres more intensity.'
The doctrine, that size is a measure of power, is not to be held as implying that much power is the only or even the most valuable quality which a mind in all circumstances can possess. To drag artillery over a mountain, or a ponderous wagon through the streets of London, we would prefer an elephant or a horse of great size and muscular power; while, for graceful motion, agility, and nimbleness, we would select an Arabian palfrey. In like manner, to lead men in
tion and in action, and yet they were splendidly gifted with energy. They carried captive at once the sympathies and the understanding of the audience, and made every man feel his faculties expanding, and his whole mind becoming greater under the influence of their power. Other performers, again, are remarkable for agility of action and elocution, who, nevertheless, are felt to be feeble and ineffective in rousing an audience to emotion. Vivacity is their distinguishing | attribute, with an absence of vigour. At the bar, in the pulpit, and in the senate, the same distinction prevails. Many members of the learned professions display great fluency of elocution and felicity of illustration, surprising us with the quickness of their parts, who, nevertheless, are felt to be neither impressive nor profound. They exhibit acuteness without depth, and ingenuity without comprehensiveness of under-gigantic and difficult enterprises-to command by standing. This also proceeds from vivacity with little native greatness, in perilous times, when law is energy. There are other public speakers, again, who trampled under foot-to call forth the energies of a open heavily in debate their faculties acting slowly people, and direct them against a tyrant at home, or but deeply, like the first heave of a mountain-wave. an alliance of tyrants abroad-to stamp the impress Their words fall like minute-guns upon the ear, and of a single mind upon a nation-to infuse strength to the superficial they appear about to terminate ere into thoughts, and depth into feelings, which shall they have begun their efforts. But even their first ac- command the homage of enlightened men in every cent is one of power; it rouses and arrests attention; age-in short, to be a Bruce, Bonaparte, Luther, their very pauses are expressive, and indicate gather- Knox, Demosthenes, Shakspeare, Milton, or Cromwell ing energy to be embodied in the sentence that is to -a large brain is indispensably requisite. But to come. When fairly animated, they are impetuous as display skill, enterprise, and fidelity in the various the torrent, brilliant as the lightning's beam, and professions of civil life-to cultivate with success the overwhelm and take possession of feebler minds, less arduous branches of philosophy to excel in impressing them irresistibly with a feeling of gigan-acuteness, taste, and felicity of expression-to acquire tic power. extensive erudition and refined manners-a brain of a moderate size is perhaps more suitable than one that is very large; for wherever the energy is intense, it is rare that delicacy, refinement, and taste are present in an equal degree. Individuals possessing moderate-sized brains easily find their proper sphere, and enjoy in it scope for all their energy. In ordinary circumstances they distinguish themselves, but they sink when difficulties accumulate around them. Persons with large brains, on the other hand, do not readily attain their appropriate place; common ocBriefcurrences do not rouse or call them forth, and, while unknown, they are not trusted with great undertakings. Often, therefore, such men pine and die in obscurity. When, however, they attain their proper element, they are conscious of greatness, and glory in the expansion of their powers. Their mental energies rise in proportion to the obstacles to be surmounted, and blaze forth in all the magnificence of self-sustaining energetic genius, on occasions when feebler minds would sink in despair.
The distinction between vivacity and energy is well illustrated by Cowper in one of his letters. The mind and body,' says he, have in this respect a striking resemblance of each other. In childhood they are both nimble, but not strong; they can skip and frisk about with wonderful agility, but hard labour spoils them both. In maturer years they become less active but more vigorous, more capable of fixed application, and can make themselves sport with that which a little earlier would have affected them with intolerable fatigue.' Dr Charlton also, in his Discourse Concerning the Different Wits of Men, has admirably described two characters, in one of which strength is displayed without vivacity, and in the other vivacity without strength; the latter he calls the man of nimble wit,' the former the man of 'slow but sure wit.' In this respect the French character may be contrasted with the Scotch.
As a general rule, the largest organs in each head have naturally the greatest, and the smallest the least, tendency to act, and to perform their functions with rapidity.
The temperaments also indicate the amount of this tendency. The nervous is the most vivacious, next the sanguine, then the bilious, while the lymphatic is characterised by proneness to inaction.
In a lymphatic brain, great size may be present and few manifestations occur through sluggishness; but if a strong external stimulus be presented, energy often appears. If the brain be very small, no degree of stimulus, either external or internal, will cause great power to be manifested.
A certain combination of organs-namely, Combativeness, Destructiveness, Hope, Firmness, Acquisitiveness, and Love of Approbation, all large-is favourable to general vivacity of mind; and another combination namely, Combativeness, Destructiveness, Hope, Firmness, and Acquisitiveness, small or moderate, with Veneration and Benevolence large is frequently attended with sluggishness of the mental character; but the activity of the whole brain is constitutionally greater in some individuals than in others, as already explained. It may even happen that, in the same individual, one organ is naturally |
WRITERS IN DIVINITY.
Critical and biblical literature have made great progress within the last half century, but the number of illustrious divines is not great. The early fathers of the Protestant church had indeed done so much in general theology and practical divinity, that comparatively little was left to their successors.
The greatest divine of the period is DR WILLIAM PALEY, a man of remarkable vigour and clearness of intellect, and originality of character. His acquirements as a scholar and churchman were grafted on a homely, shrewd, and benevolent nature, which no There was circumstances could materially alter. no doubt or obscurity either about the man or his works: he stands out in bold relief among his brother divines, like a sturdy oak on a lawn or parterre -a little hard and cross-grained, but sound, fresh, and massive-dwarfing his neighbours with his weight and bulk, and intrinsic excellence.
He shall be like a tree that grows
So says our old version of the Psalms with respect to the fate of a righteous man, and Paley was a righteous man whose mind yielded precious fruit, and whose leaves will never fade. This excellent author was born at Peterborough in 1743. His father was afterwards curate of Giggleswick, Yorkshire, and teacher of the grammar-school there. At the age of fifteen he was entered as sizar at Christ's college, Cambridge, and after completing his academical course, he became tutor in an academy at Greenwich. As soon as he was of sufficient age, he
was ordained to be assistant curate of Greenwich. He was afterwards elected a fellow of his college, and went thither to reside, engaging first as tutor. He next lectured in the university on moral philosophy and the Greek Testament. His college friend, Dr Law, bishop of Carlisle, presented him with the rectory of Musgrave, in Westmoreland, and he removed to his country charge, worth only £80 per He was soon inducted into the vicarage of Dalston, in Cumberland, to a prebend's stall in Carlisle cathedral, and also to the archdeaconry of Carlisle. In 1785 appeared his long-meditated Elements of Moral and Political Philosophy; in 1790 his Hora Paulina; and in 1794 his View of the Evidences of Christianity. Friends and preferment now crowded in on him. The bishop of London (Porteous) made him a prebend of St Paul's; the bishop of Lincoln presented him with the sub-deanery of Lincoln; and the bishop of Durham gave him the rectory of Bishop-Wearmouth, worth about a thousand pounds per annum and all these within six months, the luckiest half-year of his life. The boldness and freedom of some of Paley's disquisitions on government, and perhaps a deficiency, real or supposed, in personal dignity, and some laxness, as well as an inveterate provincial homeliness, in conversation, prevented his rising to the bench of bishops. When his name was once mentioned to George III., the monarch is reported to have said Paley! what, pigeon Paley?'- -an allusion to a famous sentence in the 'Moral and Political Philosophy' on property. As a specimen of his style of reasoning, and the liveliness of his illustrations, we subjoin this passage, which is part of an estimate of the relative duties of men in society:
If you should see a flock of pigeons in a field of corn, and if (instead of each picking where and what it liked, taking just as much as it wanted, and no more) you should see ninety-nine of them gathering all they got into a heap, reserving nothing for themselves but the chaff and the refuse, keeping this heap for one, and that the weakest, perhaps worst pigeon of the flock; sitting round, and looking on all the winter, whilst this one was devouring, throwing about and wasting it; and if a pigeon, more hardy or hungry than the rest, touched a grain of the hoard, all the others instantly flying upon it and tearing it to pieces; if you should see this, you would see nothing more than what is every day practised and established among men. Among men you see the ninety-andnine toiling and scraping together a heap of superfluities for one (and this one too, oftentimes, the feeblest and worst of the whole set-a child, a woman, a madman, or a fool), getting nothing for themselves all the while but a little of the coarsest of the provision which their own industry produces; looking quietly on while they see the fruits of all their labour
spent or spoiled; and if one of the number take or touch a particle of the hoard, the others joining against him, and hanging him for the theft.
There must be some very important advantages to account for an institution which, in the view of it above given, is so paradoxical and unnatural.
The principal of these advantages are the following:
I. It increases the produce of the earth. The earth, in climates like ours, produces little without cultivation; and none would be found willing to cultivate the ground, if others were to be adis true of the care of flocks and herds of tame animals, mitted to an equal share of the produce. The same
Crabs and acorns, red deer, rabbits, game, and fish, are all which we should have to subsist upon in this of the soil; and it fares not much better with other country, if we trusted to the spontaneous productions countries. A nation of North American savages, consisting of two or three hundred, will take up and be half-starved upon a tract of land which in Europe, and with European management, would be sufficient for the maintenance of as many thousands.
of fish upon their coasts, and in regions where clothes In some fertile soils, together with great abundance are unnecessary, a considerable degree of population may subsist without property in land, which is the
case in the islands of Otaheite: but in less favoured
situations, as in the country of New Zealand, though this sort of property obtain in a small degree, the inhabitants, for want of a more secure and regular establishment of it, are driven oftentimes by the scarcity of provision to devour one another.
II. It preserves the produce of the earth to matu
We may judge what would be the effects of a community of right to the productions of the earth, from the trifling specimens which we see of it at present. A cherry-tree in a hedgerow, nuts in a wood, the grass of an unstinted pasture, are seldom of much advantage to anybody, because people do not wait for the proper season of reaping them. Corn, if any were sown, would never ripen; lambs and calves would never grow up to sheep and cows, because the first person that met them would reflect that he had better take them as they are than leave them for another,
III. It prevents contests.
War and waste, tumult and confusion, must be unavoidable and eternal where there is not enough for all, and where there are no rules to adjust the division.
IV. It improves the conveniency of living. This it does two ways. It enables mankind to divide themselves into distinct professions, which is impossible, unless a man can exchange the produc tions of his own art for what he wants from others, and exchange implies property. Much of the advan tage of civilised over savage life depends upon this. When a man is, from necessity, his own tailor, tentmaker, carpenter, cook, huntsman, and fisherman, it is not probable that he will be expert at any of his callings. Hence the rude habitations, furniture, clothing, and implements of savages, and the tedious length of time which all their operations require.
It likewise encourages those arts by which the ac commodations of human life are supplied, by appro priating to the artist the benefit of his discoveries and improvements, without which appropriation ingenuity will never be exerted with effect.
Upon these several accounts we may venture, with a few exceptions, to pronounce that even the poorest and the worst provided, in countries where property and the consequences of property prevail, are in a better situation with respect to food, raiment, houses, and what are called the necessaries of life, than any are in places where most things remain in common.
The balance, therefore, upon the whole, must preponderate in favour of property with a manifest and great excess.
Inequality of property, in the degree in which it exists in most countries of Europe, abstractedly considered, is an evil; but it is an evil which flows from those rules concerning the acquisition and disposal of property, by which men are incited to industry, and by which the object of their industry is rendered secure and valuable. If there be any great inequality unconnected with this origin, it ought to be corrected.
In 1802 Paley published his Natural Theology, his last work. He enjoyed himself in the country with his duties and recreations: he was particularly fond of angling; and he mixed familiarly with his neighbours in all their plans of utility, sociality, and even conviviality. He disposed of his time with great regularity in his garden he limited himself to one hour at a time, twice a-day; in reading books of amusement, one hour at breakfast and another in the evening, and one for dinner and his newspaper. By thus dividing and husbanding his pleasures, they remained with him to the last. He died on the 25th of May 1805.
[The World was Made with a Benevolent Design.] [From Natural Theology."]
It is a happy world after all. The air, the earth, the water, teem with delighted existence. In a spring noon or a summer evening, on whichever side I turn my eyes, myriads of happy beings crowd upon my view. The insect youth are on the wing.' Swarms of new-born flies are trying their pinions in the air. Their sportive motions, their wanton mazes, their gratuitous activity, their continual change of place without use or purpose, testify their joy and the exultation which they feel in their lately-discovered faculties. A bee amongst the flowers in spring is one of the most cheerful objects that can be looked
No works of a theological or philosophical nature have been so extensively popular among the educated classes of England as those of Paley. His per-upon. spicacity of intellect and simplicity of style are almost unrivalled. Though plain and homely, and often inelegant, he has such vigour and discrimination, and such a happy vein of illustration, that he is always read with pleasure and instruction. No reader is ever at a loss for his meaning, or finds him too difficult for comprehension. He had the rare art of popularising the most recondite knowledge, and blending the business of life with philosophy. The principles inculcated in some of his works have been disputed, particularly his doctrine of expediency
as a rule of morals, which has been considered as
Its life appears to be all enjoyment; so busy and so pleased: yet it is only a specimen of insect life, with which, by reason of the animal being halfdomesticated, we happen to be better acquainted than we are with that of others. The whole winged insect tribe, it is probable, are equally intent upon their proper employments, and, under every variety of constitution, gratified, and perhaps equally gratified, by the offices which the Author of their nature has assigned to them. But the atmosphere is not the only Plants are scene of enjoyment for the insect race. and constantly, as it should seem, in the act of suckcovered with aphides, greedily sucking their juices, trenching on the authority of revealed religion, and ing. It cannot be doubted but that this is a state of also lowering the standard of public duty. The gratification: what else should fix them so close to system of Paley certainly would not tend to foster the operation, and so long? Other species are running the great and heroic virtues. In his early life he is about with an alacrity in their motions which carries reported to have said, with respect to his subscrip- with it every mark of pleasure. Large patches of tion to the thirty-nine articles of the Church of ground are sometimes half covered with these brisk and sprightly natures. If we look to what the waters England, that he was 'too poor to keep a conscience; produce, shoals of the fry of fish frequent the margins and something of the same laxness of moral feeling of rivers, of lakes, and of the sea itself. These are so pervades his ethical system. His abhorrence of all hypocrisy and pretence was probably at the root of happy that they know not what to do with themthis error. Like Dr Johnson, he was a practical out of the water, their frolics in it (which I have selves. Their attitudes, their vivacity, their leaps moralist, and looked with distrust on any high- noticed a thousand times with equal attention and strained virtue or enthusiastic devotion. He did amusement), all conduce to show their excess of not write for philosophers or metaphysicians, but spirits, and are simply the effects of that excess. for the great body of the people anxious to acquire Walking by the sea-side in a calm evening upon a knowledge, and to be able to give a reason for the sandy shore and with an ebbing tide, I have frehope that is in them.' He considered the art of life quently remarked the appearance of a dark cloud, to consist in properly setting our habits,' and for this or rather very thick mist, hanging over the edge of no subtle distinctions or profound theories were the water, to the height, perhaps, of half a yard, and necessary. His Moral and Political Philosophy' is of the breadth of two or three yards, stretching along framed on this basis of utility, directed by strong the coast as far as the eye could reach, and always sense, a discerning judgment, and a sincere regard retiring with the water. When this cloud came to for the true end of all knowledge-the well-being of be examined, it proved to be nothing else than so mankind here and hereafter. Of Paley's other works, much space filled with young shrimps in the act of Sir James Mackintosh has pronounced the following bounding into the air from the shallow margin of the opinion: The most original and ingenious of his water, or from the wet sand. If any motion of a writings is the Hora Paulinæ. The Evidences of mute animal could express delight, it was this; if Christianity are formed out of an admirable trans- they had meant to make signs of their happiness, lation of Butler's Analogy, and a most skilful abridg- they could not have done it more intelligibly. Supment of Lardner's Credibility of the Gospel His-pose, then, what I have no doubt of, each individual tory. He may be said to have thus given value of this number to be in a state of positive enjoyment; to two works, of which the first was scarcely intel- what a sum, collectively, of gratification and plea ligible to most of those who were most desirous of sure have we here before our view! profiting by it; and the second soon wearies out the greater part of readers, though the few who are more patient have almost always been gradually won over
The young of all animals appear to me to receive pleasure simply from the exercise of their limbs and bodily faculties, without reference to any end to be
to feel pleasure in a display of knowledge, probity, charity, and meekness unmatched by an avowed advocate in a cause deeply interesting his warmest feelings. His Natural Theology is the wonderful work of a man who, after sixty, had studied anatomy in order to write it; and it could only have been surpassed by a man (Sir Charles Bell) who, to great originality of conception and clearness of exposition, added the advantage of a high place in the first class of physiologists.'