tion. But, in the second place, the power or faculty here ascribed to the young German girl seems to remain altogether unaccounted for by any theory-whether of Hartley-Aristotle or Mr Coleridge. Had this girl been taught by the old Protestant Pastor a number of Hebrew words and sentences, and afterwards seemingly forgotten them,-till, in a nervous fever she again uttered them in her delirious ravings,—the fact would have been curious, and, even without satisfactory explanation, would have been credible. For it would have amounted only to this,-the sudden resuscitation of ideas apparently dead, and the sudden reappearance of impressions apparently effaced. But as the story stands, we are forced to believe that this girl possessed, in her delirium, a knowledge which she never did possess at any previous period of her life. The Hebrew language is not to be acquired by any young servant girl whatever, when at work in the kitchen, from the recitations of her learned master declaiming rabinical wisdom to and fro before the said kitchen-door. Doubtless a word or two might so be picked up-but that long scntences and harangues from the Rabbins, and the Greek and Latin Fathers, afterwards capable of filling whole sheets with ravings, should have been distinctly, and accurately, and grammatically committed to memory by a girl who could neither read nor write, and under such circumstances, cannot be thought possible but by the most credulous. Mr Coleridge does not seem to think the acquisition of such knowledge, in the first case, any way remarkable; at least he makes no allusion to so wonderful a phenomenon. We suspect, indeed, that he is of opinion that the girl repeated, in her delirium, that which she never could repeat in her sound senses. If so, we do not comprehend his philosophy.

The sounds uttered by a Protestant Pastor struck the ear of the girl, an impression was therefore made on her sense of hearing. But does Mr Coleridge believe that this impression was that of distinct and separate sounds, of syllables, words, sentences, periods? It could not so have been. Her ravings must have borne some resemblance to the impression formerly received. But, if in her delirium she spoke good Hebrew and excellent Greek, she must VOL. III.

have spoken what she never could have learned. This story, therefore, seems to us to prove a great deal too much-certainly much more than that relicks of sensation may exist for an indefinite time in a latent state. If it be a true story, the wonder seems to us greater, that the girl should have ever acquired such knowledge by such means, than that the knowledge having been seemingly lost should, in delirium, have been restored.

A very singular case of sudden obliteration of the deepest impressions occurred in Oxford, somewhat later than the middle of the last century. The present writer heard it narrated by the late Mr Wyndham, and the fact is well known to many persons yet living. A woman, who was there executed, was restored to animation. She completely recovered her health-married-bore children-and conducted herself reputably through life. But the effect produced on her memory by the shock which her bodily frame had sustained was most extraordinary. She recollected every thing distinctly up to the day of her trial; but from that day she recollected nothing; and the period between her trial and execution for ever after remained a blank in her memory. She had behaved in prison with great composure and resignation—had partaken of the sacrament on the morning of execution-sung a hymn on the scaffold-taken a calm farewell of her friends-and betrayed no symptoms of terror. But all these scenes were for ever effaced from her mind-nor had she ever afterwards the faintest glimmer of recollection that she had been placed in such jeopardy, Her memory with regard to every thing else was unimpaired. It would seem as if the ideas that possessed her mind during her imprisonment, and were uppermost on it, had literally been all wiped away.

In Mr Coleridge's chapter on the Law of Association, in which he traces its history from Aristotle to Hartley, he relates an anecdote of David Hume, which is so curious, that we wish Sir James M'Intosh would either confirm or deny its truth. It is as follows:

"In consulting the excellent commentary of St Thomas Aquinas on the Parva Naturalia of Aristotle, I was struck at once with its close resemblance to Hume's es40

say on association. The main thoughts were the same in both, the order of the thoughts was the same, and even the illustrations differed only by Hume's occasional substitution of modern examples. I mentioned the circumstance to several of my literary acquaintances, who admitted the closeness of the resemblance, and that it seemed too great to be explained by mere coincidence; but they thought it improbable that Hume should have held the pages of the angelic Doctor worth turning over. But some time after Mr Payne, of the King's mews, shewed Sir James M'Intosh some odd volumes of St Thomas Aquinas, partly perhaps from having heard that Sir James (then Mr) M'Intosh had in his lectures past a high encomium on this canonized philosopher, but chiefly from the fact, that the volumes had belonged to Mr Hume, and had here and there marginal marks and notes of reference in his own hand-writing. Among these volumes was that which contains the Parva Naturalia, in the old Latin version, swathed and swaddled in the commentary

afore mentioned !"

Mr Coleridge does not say, that this anecdote was communicated to him by Mr Payne, nor yet by Sir James M'Intosh; and therefore it may, after all, be merely an idle piece of floating literary gossip. The anecdote would have been more valuable had Mr Coleridge, instead of dealing in such very general terms, quoted from the "excellent commentary of St Thomas Aquinas on the Parva Naturalia of Aristotle," that part from which David Hume is said to have so freely borrowed or stolen. This we shall now do. In Chap. V. of the said Commentary "de Memoria et Reminiscentia" there is the following

passage:

"Similiter etiam quandoque reminiscitur aliquis incipiens ab aliquâ re, cujus memoratur à qua procedit ad aliam triplici ratione. Quandoque quidem ratione similitudinis, sicut quando aliquis memoratur de Socrate, et per hoc occurrit ei Plato, qui est similis ei in sapentia: quandoque vero ratione contrarietatis, sicut si aliquis memoretur Hectoris et per hoc occurret ei Achilles. Quandoque vero ratione propinquitatis cujuscunque, sicut cum aliquis memor est patris, et per hoc occurrit ei filius. Et eadem ratio est de quacunque alia propinquitate vel societatis, vel loci, vel temporis, et propter hoc fit reminiscentia, quia motus horum se invicem consequntur.'

It is needless to quote more, for this is the whole theory; and, without doubt, it bears a very strong resemblance to that of Hume. Mr Coleridge, however, ought to have said; that there is also

a very considerable difference between the Scottish sceptic and the angelic doctor, and he ought not to have said, that the illustrations of Hume differed only in the occasional substitution of more modern examples, for that is not the case, and such a groundless assertion is calculated to give a most false impression of Hume's beautiful essay to those who may not have read it, or who, like Mr Coleridge, may have wholly forgotten it. Hume thus states his theory,

"To me there appear to be only three principles of connexion among ideas, namely, resemblance, contiguity in time and place, and cause and effect. That these principles serve to connect ideas, will not, I believe, be much doubted. A picture naturally leads our thoughts to the original (resemblance). The mention of one apartment in a building naturally introduces an inquiry or discourse concerning the others (contiguity). And if we think of a wound, we can scarcely forbear reflecting on the pain which follows it (cause and effect)."

In a note to another passage in his essay, Hume adds,

"Contrast, or contrariety, is a connexion among ideas which may perhaps be considered as a mixture of causation and resemblance. When two objects are contrary, the one destroys the other, i. e. is the cause of its annihilation, and the idea of the annihilation of an object implies the idea of

its former existence."

Hume therefore agrees with St Thomas Aquinas in thinking resemblance and contiguity two principles of consomewhat different view with regard He holds a nexion among ideas. adds that of cause and effect. Hume to the principle of contrariety, and he expressly says, "I do not find that any philosopher has attempted to enumerate or class all the principles of association." If he indeed had read and studied the commentary of Aquicandid, and therefore it would be imnas, this way of talking is not very portant, both to his originality and fair-dealing, that the world should be told, by the only person who can tell them, if there be any truth in this anecdote.

This however is certain, that Mr Coleridge's dislike to Hume has betrayed him into a most unjust charge against that philosopher. It is absolutely false, that "the main thoughts are the same in both, the order of the thoughts the same, and that even the illustrations differ only in Hume's occasional substitution of more modern

examples." We have read the whole commentary of St Thomas Aquinas, and we challenge Mr Coleridge to produce from it a single illustration, or expression of any kind, to be found in Hume's essay. The whole scope and end of Hume's essay is not only different from that of St Thomas Aquinas, but there is not, in the commentary of the "angelic doctor," one idea which in any way resembles, or can be made to resemble, the beautiful illustration of the prince of sceptics. Hume says, that instead of entering into a detail of instances, "which would lead into many useless subtleties, we shall consider some of the effects of this connexion upon the passions and the imagination, where we may open a field of speculation more entertaining, and perhaps more instructive, than the other." He then proceeds to shew the operation of the principles of connexion among ideas in the composition of history, and of epic and tragic poetry. In this inquiry the whole essay consists, and there is not a single syllable in St Thomas Aquinas' commentary on such subjects.

Oriel College, Oxford.

REMARKS ON MR MACVEY NAPIER'S ESSAY ON THE SCOPE AND INFLUENCE

OF LORD BACON'S WRITINGS, IN

THE LAST VOLUME OF THE TRAN

SACTIONS OF THE ROYAL SOCIETY

OF EDINBURGH.

"It was prettily devised of Esop the fly sat upon the axle-tree of the chariot-wheel, and said, "What a dust do I raise!' so there be some vain persons who, whatsoever goeth alone, or moveth upon greater means, if they have never so little hand in it, they think that it is they that carry it." So says Bacon, in one of those immortal essays which men should read in order to know themselves, before they think of writing books for the instruction of others. In glancing over the very pompous and imbecile essay which we have named at the head of this paper, we could not help recollecting these short and pithy words of the Prince of modern Philosophers, and saying to ourselves, "The axletree of Bacon's genius has at last found its fly." Lost amidst that

cloud which it would fain believe to be its own creation, the fluttering exulting insect does not indeed attract to itself the attention of ordinary passengers. It requires the organs of an entomologist to descry the tiny buzzer glittering in the dim light of an ephemeral existence, and clapping its gauzy winglets as if it had flown over the Atlantic. But it is the nature of those enthusiastic in pursuits such as ours, to find interest enough, and to spare, in matters derided as utterly insignificant by the uninitiated. We do not expect, indeed, that most of our readers will at all sympathise with us in the pleasure which we have had in pinning into our portfolio this new specimen of the humming tribe,-this stridiferous and blustering Lilliputian,

this champion and guardian of the fame of Bacon. They must, however, bear with our infirmity, and task themselves to be listeners for a few moments while we comment, not perhaps without the self-importance of discoverers, on the shape and vocation of our new found fly.

Mr Macvey Napier, Fellow of the Royal and Antiquarian Societies of Edinburgh, has then, be it known to all those whom it may concern, filled fifty-four quarto pages of the Transactions of the former of these most illustrious associations, with an essay intended to enlighten the world at large in regard to two subjects, whereon the said Mr Macvey Napier very sagaciously supposes the said world to have great need of illumination. The first of these is the scope, and the second is the effect, of Lord Bacon's labours as a philosophical writer. Now we, innocent as we are of any connexion with the Royal, the Antiquarian, or even the Dilettanti Society of Edinburgh, were really so much in the dark before the publication of Mr Napier's very important essay, as not to know that any dispute had of late arisen among the members of those truly venerable and august institutions, touching either the nature or influence of the philosophy of Bacon. The dissertation of Mr Stewart, wherein the character of Bacon's works is described with so much philosophical eloquence, had indeed been attacked on some points by a writer in the Quarterly Review; but we, like the rest of the world, had no difficulty in perceiving that the assault of the

critic had originated only in misconception, and we considered the whole matter as long since at an end. Mr Napier, however, is Editor of the Supplement to the Encyclopædia Britannica, and felt himself called upon to vindicate from stain, however slight, the character of a writer whose dissertation had been published under his auspices. Watching, with all the grave amplitude of his Editorial wing, over the Stewarts, the Playfairs, and other helpless creatures, who it seems put their trust under his shadow, the indignant Conductor sits like the rampant lion of his country's scutcheon, with a 66 nemo Hos impune lacesset" in his mouth. With the attitude and motto, however, the parallel must stop; our Encyclopædial lion is fangless and toothless; and those who look for his protection must be content to take the will for the deed.

The idea of Macvey Napier defending Dugald Stewart against the Quarterly Review, reminds us of a story to be found, we believe, in one of the popular sixpenny histories of British Admirals. During a great conflict between two French and English men-of-war, an unlucky shot came athwart the hen-coop of our vessel, and set at liberty such of its captives as it did not kill or maim. Among the first to escape was a little insignificant pullet, which immediately flew as high as its wings could carry it; and having taken its station exactly above the British Jack, there established itself as commander-in-chief on the occasion-repelling the French shots with a feeble scream, and backing the English broadsides with a crowing Io Triumphe at the very top of its treble. The same ludicrous idea reminds us of what we have ourselves often witnessed, the absurdly important manner in which a little messin-whelp discharges the duties of a watch-dog. The noble mastiff lurks couchant in his lair, ready to spring forth when there comes an occasion, but not fancying or fearing an enemy in every one whose footstep approaches his habita tion. The Catulus is a more obstreperous, if not a more effective guardian. There it sits snuffing the wind for offence, and pursuing, with a yelp from the house-top, every traveller upon the highway. Such defenders are more trouble than benefit to those

who have a good house over their heads. Mr Stewart has such a coyering. But a truce to similitudes. We leave them to old Timothy Tickler, who, we doubt not, will soon favour the world with "Letters to eminent Literary Characters, No VI. -to Mr Macvey Napier."

As to the contents of Mr Napier's Essay, it is, in the first place, no easy matter to get at them. The fifty-four pages are like so many harlequins, for the motley patches and quotations with which they are covered; but notwithstanding this diversity of raiment, the said fifty-four pages co-operate, like so many brothers, in drawing the eyelids together. Candour, however, obliges us to confess, that their conjoined exertions have by no means a soothing influence; but, on the contrary, an irritating and teasing effect. If we had been merely doomed to hear them read aloud, it is possible that we might have enjoyed the same sweet and refreshing slumber, which is said to have visited the members of the Royal Society, upon the 16th February, anno domini 1818, when the whole composition was delivered, in due form, over a green table, by the monotonous lips of Mr Napier himself. Upon the whole, the 16th February is still remembered with pleasure at the Royal Society, as a day of respite from quartz, and mica-slate, and oyster-shells; but the case is very different with such readers as have had to go through the Essay by dint of spontaneous study, and who have sat down with an intention of ascertaining what the fifty-four harlequins would be at.

To have done with metaphors, Mr Napier proposes to illustrate, first the scope, and then the influence, of Lord Bacon's philosophy. With regard to its scope, his remarks are in the last degree heavy, superfluous, and unprofitable; and it is with a miserable bad grace that he comes hobbling in the wake of such a writer as Mr Stewart. All that Mr Napier advances on this subject, has the same character of secondhand feebleness and tarnished repetition. It operates like an anticlimax, and has the absurd aspect of a smaller wedge put into the empty space which has already been opened by a larger one. Surely no person, endowed with any force of mind, could occupy such

a situation without impatience and chagrin; at least, if he perceived in what circumstances he stood. To assist in diffusing truths not generally known, is an office which no one need disdain, although these truths may be the production of another's lucubrations; but to state in an inferior form what has been already well stated and understood, betrays a degree of humility for which a person will hardly obtain much approbation in this wicked world-except, perhaps, in the Royal Society of Edinburgh, or the Supplement to the Encyclopædia Britannica. As to Mr Napier's illustrations of the influence of Lord Bacon's philosophy, they are certainly misnamed. They are not illustrations of the manner in which his writings operated in advancing the progress of science, but a mere mechanical collection of quotations, loosely strung together, and tending to shew, that Lord Bacon's writings were known and admired by the learned throughout Europe, more extensively, and at an earlier period, than is generally supposed. Perhaps Mr N. deserves some small credit for his industry in bringing them together from Brucker and the Dictionaries, for rather more instances are adduced, we believe, than those cited in Mr Stewart's dissertation. But it is rather too much to give this species of piddling the imposing title of illustrations of Lord Bacon's philosophy. The suffrages of the learned among Bacon's contemporaries, or the succeeding generation, are of little importance, when we know that all the most important discoveries in physics, in this country, have confessedly been made under the iminediate influence of the Verulamian philosophy; and that the discoveries of foreigners, if not all made under the guidance of that system, were not accomplished by the light of any different and better system of logic, but by the unaided ingenuity and good fortune of the inventors themselves. The ponderous machinery, got up by Mr Napier, works very hard upon the fulcrum of the reader's patience, but answers hardly any purpose in the end. The incidental mentions of Bacon, which have been collected by him from foreign works, prove almost nothing, since the greater number of the writers he quotes were speculative men, and not experiment

ers themselves, or concerned in parti cular discoveries or additions made to science.

In order to satisfy our readers that we have not been misrepresenting the merits of this illustrious F.R. S. E. we shall quote one of the most prominent, elaborate, and imposing of his paragraphs, which for crudeness, tameness, obscurity, triteness, and all the other magnificencies of dulness, seems to us to be well nigh entitled to the reputation of an unique. The satisfied air with which he hugs himself upon his nothings, reminds us of that merciful arrangement of Providence, in virtue of which parents are commonly most fond of the most rickety of their children-perpetually pluming themselves upon what procures for them, if they knew it, not the envy, but the pity, of their neighbours.

"It would require a complete analysis of the Novum Organum to furnish an adequate idea of the value of Bacon's services in this important department of philosophy; but the fundamental rules of his method may be comprehended in a few sentences. They seem all to be founded upon the following principles: first, That it is the business of philosophy to discover the laws or causes that operate in Nature, in order thereby to explain appearances, and produce new effects: next, That we are incapable of discovering these laws or causes in any other way than by attending to the circumstances in which they operate: and, lastly, That the mind is naturally disposed systems, before having made all the inquiries to run into general conclusions, and to form necessary to truth. In conformity with these principles, he shows, that all sound philosophy must proceed from facts; that the facts in every case must be carefully collected and compared; and that in all our reasonings about them, the natural tendency of the mind to generalize must be carefully repressed. The spurious method of induction is that which proceeds suddenly amined to the most general conclusions. from particulars scantily collected or ill exThe true method is that which lays a wide basis in observations and experiments, and which generalizes slowly; advancing gradually from particulars to generals, from what is less general to what is more general, till the inquiry ends in truths that appear to be universal."

It is pleasing, after speculating for a few moments on the pert and useless productions of a pretender, to turn to something like the sincerity of real study, and the simplicity of real wisdom. To an edition of the Essays