Sketch of a System of the Philosophy of the Human Mind. By THOMAS BROWN, M.D. Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh. Lectures on the Philosophy of the Human Mind. By the late THOMAS BROWN, M. D. &c. &c. [From an article upon these works in the Monthly Review, we extract the first paragraph, and then, passing to the end, copy the notice of the ethical part of the Lectures.] THE acuteness and analytic spirit of the late amiable Professor Brown were early in life made known to the world by his strictures on Darwin, and by his profound Essay on the Relation of Cause and Effect. The "Sketch" now before us is a fragment printed by him when in a declining state of health, as a text-book for the students attending his class; and the "Lectures" are a posthumous publication. All these productions exhibit the same characters of mind, viz. great freedom of inquiry, patience of research, and subtilty of investigation, joined to a humble consciousness of the limited sphere of the human faculties, and to a lively sense of the omnipresence of a superintending Providence. Considering how much the mind of man is liable to be warped by established predilections, and how much habits of controversy tend to impart tenacity to favourite opinions, it is in no slight degree creditable to Dr. Brown that he generally places the arguments of his opponents in the clearest point of view, and waives all minor and technical objections in order to meet the very thing signified. * * * * * * * The inquiry into a man's duty towards his fellow-creatures, his Creator, and himself, is conducted through all its parts by Dr. Brown not only with much good sense and propriety of expression, but, on many occasions, with great felicity of illustration and genuine eloquence. As a specimen of his manner when he gives scope to his powers, we copy a passage in which, with but little toleration of excesses that may be fashionable, or that a great authority might pronounce in some cases to be venial, he descants on the crime of adultery. "Let us imagine," says he, "one of those domestic groups which form, to the lover of happiness, one of the loveliest spectacles with which the earth is embellished,—a family, in the small circle of which there is no need of distracting and noisy gaieties without, because there are constant tranquillity and enjoyment within,-in which the pleasure of loving is, in the bosom of the wedded pair, a delight, that, as blending in one uniform emotion with the pleasure of being loved, is scarcely to be distinguished from that affection which is ever flowing around it, -a delight that grows not weaker, but more intense, by diffusion to the little frolickers around, who, as yet, know little more than the affection which they feel, and the affection of which they are the objects, but who are rising into virtue, amid the happiness which virtue sheds. In considering such a scene, would it require any very long and subtle effort of reflection to determine what would be the greatest injury, which human could devise against it, if it were in the power of malice to execute every malice ich it might conceive? It would be that very injury which the adulterer perpetrates,-the crime of him who can see all this happiness, and can say in his heart, This happiness shall exist no longer. A time may indeed come, when, if his artifices be successful, this happiness will exist no more, ---when she, who was once as innocent as she was happy, shall have been consigned to that remorse, which is to hurry her, too slowly for her own wishes, to the grave, and when the home which she has deserted shall be a place of wretchedness and desolation,-where there is one miserable being, who knows his misery, and others, who still smile, while they inquire anxiously, with a sort of fearful wonder, for the presence of her, whose caresses they no longer enjoy,-and are as yet ignorant that a time is to arrive, when they are to blush at the very name of her, to whose knee and embrace of fondness they are longing to return. "When Milton describes the leader of the fallen spirits as witnessing, on his entrance into Paradise, the happiness of the first pair, he knew well how necessary it was to the poetic interest which he wished us to feel, in the character and enterprise even of this audacious rebel, that, in the very prospect of executing his infernal purpose, he should have some reluctance, to disturb that beautiful happiness, which was before his eyes: "O hell! what do mine eyes with grief behold! The hand that form'd them on their shape hath pour'd: Ah, gentle pair! ye little think how nigh Your change approaches,-when all these delights More wo, the more your taste is now of joy. Ill-fenced your heaven to keep out such a foe And send forth all her kings:-there will be room- Your numerous offspring:-if no better place, "It is similar happiness, which the adulterer invades. But he has not the compunction of the fiend, in invading it. He enters into paradise, eager to destroy. He invades it, because it is happiness. In many cases, it is his vanity, which he seeks to gratify, far more than his sensual appetite; the beauty with which the eye is most attractive to him, is the love with which it is already beaming on another; and if there were less previous conjugal affection to be overcome, and, therefore, less wretchedness to be produced, by the conquest which he is ambitious of achieving, he would often forbear his seductions, and reserve them for those, who may afford to his insatiable wishes of moral desolation, a greater harvest of misery. "Such is the adulterer:-and of all this mass of wretchedness which he produces, and of all the iniquity which can calmly meditate and plan such wretchedness, what is the palliation which he assigns? It is the violence of his love alone which he pleads. He is not aware, what aggravation there is of his guilt, in that which he regards, or professes to regard, as the apology of it. If, by love, he mean mere sexual appetite, his excuse is of the same kind, as that of the common robber, who should think, that he had given a moral justification of his rapacity, by describing the debaucheries which it enabled him to pursue, and the difficulty which, without his thefts, he should feel, in visiting as frequently the tavern and the * Par. Lost, B. IV. v. 358–392. brothel. And if, by the love which is asserted, be meant an affection more worthy of that name-what are we to think of the sincerity of his love, who, to gratify his own lust, is eager to plunge into guilt and wretchedness, the very being whom he professes to regard with an interest, which should have led him, if sincere, to expose himself, to every thing but guilt, to save her from misery, like that which he is intentionally preparing for her? To speak of affection, therefore, or of feelings to which he dares to give the name of affection, is, on his part, to double his crime. It is to confess, that, while he is not merely regardless of the happiness of the hus. band whom he robs, but equally regardless of the happiness of her of whom he robs him, he is as completely and brutally selfish, in his love, as he could be in his indifference or his hatred;-and that the peace, and honour, and virtue of the being, whom he professes to regard as the dearest to him in existence, are, therefore, as nothing, when he must either sacrifice them, or make a sacrifice which is far more painful to him, of one of his own desires." (Lect. lxxxiv.) The ensuing remarks relate to a very different subject, and, although perhaps obvious, have not been so often repeated as to have become superfluous. It is a point on which the wise do not always preserve their wisdom, and on which even the good seem sometimes to forget their humanity. "There is a power in every individual, over the tranquillity of almost every individual. There are emotions, latent in the mind of those whom we meet, which a few words of ours may at any time call forth; and the moral influence which keeps this power over the uneasy feelings of others, under due restraint, is not the least important of the moral influences, in its relation to general happiness. "There are minds which can delight in exercising this cruel sway,-which rejoice in suggesting thoughts that may poison the confidence of friends, and render the very virtues that were loved, objects of suspicion to him who loved them. In the daily and hourly intercourse of human life, there are human beings, who exert their malicious skill, in devising what subjects may be most likely to bring into the mind of him with whom they converse, the most mortifying remembrances;-who pay visits of condolence, that they may be sure of making grief a little more severely felt; who are faithful in conveying to every one the whispers of unmerited scandal, of which, otherwise, he never would have heard, as he never could have suspected them, though, in exercising this friendly office, they are careful to express sufficient indignation against the slanderer, and to bring forward as many grounds of suspicion against different individuals, as their fancy can call up;-who talk to some disappointed beauty, of all the splendid preparations for the marriage of her rival,-to the unfortunate dramatic poet, of the success of the last night's piece, and of the great improvement which has taken place in modern taste;-and who, if they could have the peculiar good fortune of meeting with any one, whose father was hanged, would probably find no subject so attractive to their eloquence, as the number of executions that were speedily to take place. "Such power man may exercise over the feelings of man; and, as it is impossible to frame laws which can comprehend injuries of this sort, such power man may exercise over man with legal impunity. But it is a power, of which the virtuous man will as little think of availing himself, for purposes of cruelty, as if a thousand laws had made it as criminal as it is immoral;-a power which he will as little think of exercising, because it would require only the utterance of a few easy words, as of inflicting a mortal blow, because it would require only a single motion of his hand." (Lect. lxxxv.) Professor B.'s observations on the goodness of the Supreme Being contain much matter condensed into a small compass; and we earnestly recommend the perusal of them to those whom the scepticism or Manicheism insinuated in some of the fashionable poetry of the day may have taught to trifle, instead of reflecting gravely, on so important a question. Indeed, the serious and fervent but unobtrusive and charitable piety of the author has impres sed marks of genuineness and sincerity on these reflections, which make them in the highest degree estimable and interesting; and the scoffer must rise from the perusal of them restrained by the seriousness and impressiveness of the writer, while the man of patient reflection will confess his views of Providence to be confirmed and enlarged by them, and every motive to virtuous and honourable exertion invigorated. The celebrated Pestalozzi intends to publish a periodical work upon Education, and upon Elementary Instruction. In his prospectus he says, "I have devoted my whole life to investigating the best means of instructing youth, and improving the education of the people. Men distinguished by their merit, and by their noble character, have entreated me to publish the principles of my system of education; I am, therefore, resolved to publish a periodical work, in which I will endeavour to show what elementary education ought to be, and what are the means of gradually developing the human faculties. I shall show how much elementary education is calculated to give full effect to domestic instruction. I shall produce striking examples to prove how capable children, even of the most tender years, are of applying to objects which interest their minds or their feelings, in a manner which will be in harmony with the natural progressive development of our faculties. I shall call the attention to the necessity of uniting, for the objects of education, severity and mildness, goodness of heart, ardour and amenity, liberty and obedience, and, consequently, the virtues of domestic life, emanating even from the Deity himself. I shall also publish a French translation of my works, by subscription. The first volume will relate to numbers, the second to the elements of geometry; subsequent writings, as well as treatises, upon different points of elementary instruction, will be also published by subscription." FROM NEELE'S POEMS, LONDON, 1823. A YOUNG GIRL. She had just arrived At life's best season; when the world seems all RESPECTABLE MISANTHROPE. A house in Grubb-street had long been noted as the residence of a solitary gentleman, whom nobody could ever catch a glimpse of, and who permitted nobody to see him, except an old maid servant, and her only in some cases of great necessity. Three rooms of the house he reserved for his exclusive use: one for eating in ; a second as a study; and a third as a bed-room. His time was spent in reading, meditation, and prayer. His diet was constantly bread, water gruel, milk, and vegetables; and when he indulged himself most, the yolk of an egg. No Carthusian monk was ever more rigid and constant in his abstinence. He seemed, notwithstanding, in no want of money to have purchased every luxury of life. He bought all the new books that were published, although there was seldom one which, on a slight examination, he did not throw aside. He expended large sums, too, in acts of charity; and was very inquisitive after proper objects. He died the 29th of October, 1639, in the eighty-fourth year of his age, and lies buried in St. Giles's Church, near Cripplegate. The old maid servant died but six days before her master. Henry Welby, for such was the name of this singular recluse, was a native of Lincolnshire, where he had an estate of about a thousand pounds a year. He possessed, in an eminent degree, the qualifications of a gentleman. Having been a competent time at the University and the inns of court, he completed his education by making the tour of Europe. He was happy in the love and esteem of his friends, and indeed of all that knew him, as his heart was warm, and the virtues of it were displayed in numerous acts of humanity, benevolence, and charity. When he was about forty years of age, his brother, an abandoned profligate, made an attempt upon his life, with a pistol, which not going off, he wrested it from his hands, and found it to be double charged with bullets. The event filled him with such horror, such a disgust, for the society of men, that he resolved to seclude himself from it for ever; and so strictly did he adhere to this resolution, that although he had a very amiable daughter, who was married to Sir Christopher Hilliard, a Yorkshire gentleman, neither she, nor any of her family, ever saw her father after his retirement. THE LONDON MAGAZINE FOR MAY, Contains Mr. Schnackenberger; or two Masters for one Dog, from the German: this is "to be concluded in next number, and perhaps contains some meaning that we are not aware of, but for which suspicion, we should pronounce it a tissue of senseless vulgarity. Account of a New Process in Painting, and Stanzas were passed over to read Spanish Romances, No 2. There have |