BOOKS.

SYDNEY faILTH'S ELEMENTARY SKETCHES OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY.*

11 the years 1804,1$05, and 1806, the late Sydney Smith delivered a series of lectures on metaphysics or moral philosophy at tha Royal Institution. Neither the nature of his mind nor his studies had well adapted him to handle the subject in regular metaphysical- professor-like style, still less to advance anything that could be called discovery in that profitless field of ingenious labour. Part of the matter of his lectures was subsequently used up for papers in the Edinburgh Review ; but the author was so little satisfied with the discourses as an exposition of moral philosophy, that he "de- stroyed several and was proceeding to destroy the -whole. An earnest entreaty was made that those not yet torn up might be spared, and it was granted."

On the author's death, his widow appears to have contemplated a posthumous publication, but she was dissuaded by Jeffrey, who thought it not likely to add to the reputation of his friend. Mrs. Smith, however, printed a hundred copies for private circulation, and their publication was "counselled by several eminent men." Jeffrey too, on perusing a part of his copy, found so much to admire that he recanted his " heresy," and, about a week before his death, counselled the publication, in a touching and characteristic letters whose opening and close, and indeed the spirit of the whole, show the kindly heart of the man. The following is a fitting termination to a friendship of nearly half a century, distinguished by fidelity, circumstances, and associations, rare in the annals of literature or life.

" I write this hurriedly, after finishing my legal preparations for tomor- row, and feel that I shall sleep better for this disburdening of my conscience. I feel, too, as if I was secure of your acceptance of this tardy recantation of my former heresies ; and that you will be pleased, and even perhaps a little proud, of your eonvertite. But if not, I can only say that I shall willingly submit to any penance you can find in your heart to impose on me. I know enough of that heart of old not to be very apprehensive of its severity. And now good night, and God bless you! I am very old, and have many Mtn.- willies; but I am tenacious of old friendships, and find much of my present enjoyments in the recollections of the past.

" With all good and kind wishes, ever very gratefully and affectionately

yours, F. JEFFREY."

From other parts of this letter it appears that the first adverse opinion was pronounced upon a partial inspection of the manu- script, and the favourable judgment given upon a perusal of the printed volume ; a fact that sufficiently explains the discrepant decisions. We can readily comprehend that if Jeffrey happened to light upon the titles of such chapters as those on Taste, on the Beautiful, on the Sublime; and several cognate topics, he might have some doubts as to their connexion with " moral philosophy "; although he had grown up among a school of metaphysicians who called everything moral that was not physicaL Had he looked into many parts, perhaps any part, he would have found very slight traces of the scientific or subtile metaphysician. In some cases, as in the historical sketch of Moral Philosophy, he would have ob- served the knowledge of the general scholar, with a little (and but a little) special study for the occasion. The man Jeffrey might sym- pathise with the slighting and somewhat flippant estimate of an- cient mental philosophy, and not be offended by the curt manner in which it was tossed aaide • but the critic would be inclined to suspect that some want of knowledge was concealed under the guise of contempt. In the execution of more purely scientific parts, the Stagyrite of Modern Athens would perceive that the manner was very often used to disguise the poverty of (metaphysical) matter, and controversy sometimes made to do duty for full original views, —as in the chapters on Wit and Humour, where various authors, from Barrow downwards, are quoted upon the question of what is wit, and the " case argued." Metaphysics, in the usual meaning of the word, is still more frequently lost sight of in general dis- quisition, such as might have appeared in the old essay or mo- d.ern periodicaL In fact, the so-called lectures on Moral Philosophy are a series of articles on a variety of faculties and emotions, which are no further metaphysical than as dealing with mind. It is further possible, that if Jersey happened to light upon some pas- sages he might perceive too much of the inveterate " joker"; well enough to please a fashionable audience, but hardly adapted to the subject or to the character of the reverend divine.

Such a judgment might have been positive—that is, with re- ference to the beginning of the century, when the lectures were &Rinsed: If they were brought to a more comparative test, they would display faults of a less technical but a more important kind. The anatomical examination to which the brain and nerves have been subjected during the last half century, the chemical discove- ries respecting material but physically inappreciable agents, the greater attention that has been paid: to the mental powers of ani- mals, and (as a consequence) the more reasonable-looking manner— the more satisfactory if not the sounder way in which metaphysi- eal speculations are now conducted—have certainly given to con- temporary speculators on mind an advantage over their predeces- sors. In this important point these lectures are of necessity de- ficient. They also partake of a professional view to a degree which some modern divines do not deem necessary on subjects where the soul' may be supposed to be concerned—as the instinct of animals. The great merit of the lectures, and the characteristic merit of the author—that of reaching the very heart of the subject—was not

• Elementary Sketches of Moral Philosophy, delivered at the Royal Institution in theyears. 1804, 1805, and 1806. Ry the late Reverend Sydney Smith. Published by Longman. so psi ptible in many parts, especially those of a proper me-- tap ysical nature.

After all deductions, however,. Jeffrey was quite right in. his re- cantation, when he came to real conseeutively and in print The suppression of the work would have deprived the world of the- most entertaining series of metaphysical discourses ever delivered; would have caused the loss of many useful hints for the conduct of the understanding, with some moral lessons of an elevated yet practical character ; and would have suppressed a very striking example of the faculties and powers of the writer. We doubt whether there ever was a more satisfactory instance of the proverb

"-an ounce of mother wit is worth a pound of clergy." thout profound, scientific, or technical knowledge of his subject, Sydney extricates himself from his dilemma. to admiration, even with those who may perceive his deficiencies : his West-end and& enee must have been as delightedly surprised with metaphysics and ethical philosophy as Madame Talleyrand with Robinson Crusoe when her husband substituted it for the expected trea- tise on political economy. The operations and faculties of the mind are arranged in order; the more obvious phienomena and their common-sense explanation are presented with unrivalled clearness and felicity ; the more interesting mental peculiarities either of men—as somnambulism, or of animals—as those occa- sional traits which seem like reason—are skilfully selected and displayed ; the exposition is enlivened by wit, and elevated, as we have said, by lessons of life distinguished by sound sense, worldly wisdom with little taint of worldliness, and a lofty tone of moral philosophy.

In a critical point of view, the work is valuable for the insight it gives into the writer's powers. When a man is engaged in anything which by original bent and long cultivation has be- come a second nature, the result is so completely homogeneous that it is difficult to distinguish between what is spontaneous and what is professional. When employed on a subject where he is less at homes his efforts and his little awkwardnesees enable the observer to morerthoroughly analyze him, and to- consider his peculiar cha- racteristics more satisfactorily. " A quibble was to Shakspere the fatal Cleopatra for which he lost the world and was content to lose it." The corresponding weakness of Sydney Smith, that quality which would have remained in the critical alembic when ev thing else was driven off, was a passion Bar a joke. He not only seizes every occasion which lies in the way, but often goes out of the way to be " witty," when the jest is somewhat out of place. The depth and penetration of his mind was an evident quality—the power of blowing aside all Clint was conventional, of exposing all, that was pretended, of discarding all that was secondary, was visible in all he did, and receives no new illustration from these lectures.. The nice limit by which the discover.y of really new views differs from the artful combination of old views so as to make the result look original, is very well shown. to those who have any knowledge• of the sources whence the lecturer draws his is materials, and they will be able to trace the way in which he seems to make them Ina own by the dressing. This s an interesting feature of study ; the most interesting feature, however,, is the effect produced by what may be called power of statement-the art of selecting, from inatbsr. open to. all who can read, the most striking points, and presenting them in the most effective way. Aristotle is by no means properly appreciated by the reverend lecturer for the use of his powers, if he is for then extent; but nothing can be more telling than a great part of the following passage, which, except in the opening sentence, is mere statement " Whoever is fond of the biographical art, as a repository of the actions and the fortunes of great men, may enjoy an agreeable specimen of its cer- tainty in the life of Aristotle. Seine writers say he was a Jew • others that he got all his information from a Jew, that he kept an apothecary's shop, and was an atheist ; others say, on the contrary, that he did not keep an apothecary's shop, and that he was a Trinitarian. Some say he respected' the religion of his country; others that he offered sacrifices to his wife, and made hymns in favour of his father-in-law. Some are of opiniowhe was poisoned by the priests ; others are clear that he died of vexation be- cause ho could not discover the causes of the ebb and flow in the Rutting. We now care or know so little about Aristotle, that Mr. Fielding, in one of his novels, says, Aristotle is not such a fool as many people believe, who never read a syllable of his works.' " Before the Reformation, his morals used to be read to the people in some of the churches of Germany,instead of the Scriptures ; his philosophy had an exclusive monopoly granted to it by the Parliament of Paris, who forbade the use of any other in France; the President De Thou informs us that. Paul de Foix, one of the most earned and elegant men of his time, in pass- ing through Ferrara, refused to see the famous Patricius, or to meet ham at any third house, because he disbelieved in some of the doctrines of Aristotle. Certainly, the two human, beings who have had the greatest influence upon the understandings of mankind, have beedAristotle and Lord Bacon. To Lord Bacon we are indebted for an almost daily extension of our knowledge of the laws of nature in the outward world ; and the same modest and cautious spirit of inquiryextended to moral philosophy will probably at last give us clear, intelligible ideasod our spiritual nature. Every succeeding year is an additional confirmation to us- that we are travelling in the true path of knowledge;; and as it brings in freab tributes of Holum for the in- crease of human happiness, it extorts from us flush tributes of praise to the

guide and father of true philosophy.. To the understanding of Aristotle,

equally vast perhaps and equally original,. we are indebted for fifteen hun- dred yeara of quibbling and ignoranee;. in, which the earth fdl under the tyranny of words, andphilosophers quarrelled withone another like-drunken,

men in darkrooms,. who hate peace without knowing why they fight. or gee- ing how to take aim. Professors were multiplied without. the world, be-

coming wiser; and volumes of Aristotelian philosophy wens written, which if piled one upon another would have equalled the tower of Babel. in height, and far exceeded it in confusion. Such are the obligations we owe to the mighty Stagirite ; for that he was of way mighty understanding,, the broad. circumference and the deep root of his philosophy most. lamentably, evince."

The following beginning of a lecture on the faculties of animala. and men derives its effect from- the peculiar style of Peter Ern-'

ley ,• but it is an example of how he must have tickled the _Albe- marle Street audience.

" I confess I treat on this subject with some degree of apprehension and reluctance; because I should be very sorry to do injustice to the poor brutes, who have no professors to revenge their cause by lecturing on our faculties ; and at the same time I know there is a very strong anthropical party, who view all culogiums on the brute creation with a very considerable degree of suspicion. and look upon every compliment which is paid to the ape as high treason to the dignity of man.

" There may perhaps,. be more of rashness and ill-fated security in my opinion, than of magnanimity or liberality ; but I confess I feel myself so much at my ease about the superiority of mankind—I have such a marked and decided contempt for the understanding of every baboon I have yet seen —I feel so sure that the blue ape without a tail will never rival us in poetry, painting, and music—that I see no reason whatever why justice may not be done to the few fragments of soul and tatters of understanding which they may really possess. I have sometimes, perhaps, felt a little uneasy at Exeter 'Change, from contrasting the monkies with the 'prentice-boys who are tearing them ; but a few pages of Locke, or a few lines of Milton, have al- ways restored me to tranquillity, and convinced me that the superiority of man had nothing to fear."

This exposition of the effects of mere "wit" upon the mind of the practitioner may recall to the memory of the reader the adage " set a thief to catch a thief."

" I wish, after all I have said about wit and humour, I could satisfy my- self of their good effects upon the character and disposition ; but I am con- vinced the probable tendency of both is to corrupt the understanding and the heart. I am not speaking of wit where it is kept down by more serious qualities of mind, and thrown into the background of the picture ; but where i it stands out boldly and emphatically, and is evidently the master quality in any particular mind. Professed wits, though they are generally courted for the amusement they afford, are seldom respected tbr the qualities they pos- sess. The habit of seeing things in a witty point of view, increases, and makes incursions from its own proper regions, upon principles and opinions which are ever held sacred by the wise and good. A witty man is a dra- matic performer : in process of time, he can no more exist without applause than lie can exist without air • if his audience be small, or if they are inat- tentive, or if a new wit defrauds him of any portion of his admiration, it is all over with him ; he sickens, and is extinguished. The applausea of the theatre on which he performs are so essential to him, that he must obtain them at the expense of decency, friendship, and good feeling. It must al- ways be probable, too, that a mere wit is a person of light and frivolous un- derstanding. his business is not to discover relations of ideas that are use- la1 and have a real influence upon life, but to discover the more trifling re- tions which are only amusing ; he never looks at things with the naked eye of common sense, but is always gazing at the world through a Claude Lorraine glass, discovering a thousand appearances which are created only by the instrument of inspection, and covering every object with factitious and unnatural colours. In short, the character of a cure wit it is impossible to consider as very amiable, very respectable, or very safe."

The following passage on the possibility of acquiring wit—an opinion which was also held by Goldsmith—is also one that it required a wit to write. The extract is curious too for the Addi- sonian manner of some of the sentences.

"It is imagined that wit is a sort of inexplicable visitation; that it comes and goes with the rapidity of lightning, and that it is quite as unattainable as beauty or just proportion. I am so much of a contrary way of thinking, that I am convinced a man might sit down as systematically, and as suc- cessfully, to the study of wit, as he might to the study of mathematics : and I would answer for it, that, by giving up only six hours a day to being witty, he should come on prodigiously before Midsummer, so that his friends should hardly know him again. For what is there to hinder the mind from gradually acquiring a habit of attending to the lighter relations of ideas, in which wit consists? Punning grows upon everybody, and punning is the wit of words. I do not mean to say that it is so easy to acquire a habit of discovering new relations in ideas as in words; but the difficulty is not so much greater as to render it insuperable to habit. One man is unquestion- ably much better calculated for it by nature than another; but association, which gradually makes a bad speaker a good one, might give a man wit who bad it not, if any man chose to be so absurd as to sit down to acquire it."

There are better and more useful things in the lectures than mere literary excellence of statement, or pungent vivacity of manner, or ingenious speculations on our mental faculties. The lecturer gives lessons on the conduct of the understanding and of life, that may vie with those of any moralist, in a style which moralists do not often attain. What can be more judicious or more needful than this advice ?

"A great deal of talent is lost to the world for the want of a little courage. Every day sends to their grave a number of obscure men who have only re- mained obscure because their timidity has prevented them from making a first effort, and who, if they could only haSe been induced to begin, would in all probability have gone great lengths in the career of fame. The fact is, that in order to do anything in this world worth doing, we must not stand shivering on the bank, and thinking of the cold and the danger, but jump m and scramble through as well as we can. It will not do to be perpetually calculating risks and adjusting nice chances : it did all very welt before the Flood, when a man could consult his friends upon an intended publication for a hundred and fifty years, and then live to see its success for six or seven centuries afterwards ; but at present a man waits, and doubts, and hesitates, and consults his brother, and his uncle, and his first cousins, and his parti- cular friends, till one fine day he finds that he is sixty-five years of age,— that he has lost so much time in consulting first cousins and particular friends that he has no more time left to follow their advice. There is such little time for over-squeamishness at present, the opportunity so easily slips away, the very period of life at which a man chooses to venture, if ever, is so confined, that it is no bad rule to preach up the necessity, in such in- stances, of a little violence done to the feelings, and of efforts made in de- fiance of strict and sober calculation.

" With respect to that fastidiousness which disturbs the right conduct of the understanding, it must be observed that there are two modes of judging of anything : one, by the test of what has actually been done in the same waybefore • the other, by what we can conceive may be done in that way. Now this latter method of mere imaginary excellence can hardly be a just criterion, because it maybe in fact impossible to reduce to nractice what it is perfectly easy to conceive : no man, before he has tried, can tell how diffi- cult it is to manage prejudice, jealousy, and delicacy, and to overcome all that friction which the world opposes to speculation. Therefore, the fair practical rule seems to be, to compare any exertion with all similaiexertions which have preceded it, and to allow merit to any one who has improved, or at least who has not deteriorated the standard of excellence in his own department of knowledge. Fastidious men are always judging by the other

standard ; and, as the rest of the understanding cannot fill up in a century what the imagination can sketch out in a moment, they are always in a state of perpetual disappointment, and their conversation one uniform tenour of blame. At the same time that I say this, I beg leave to lift up both my hands against that pernicious facility of temper in the estimation of which everything is charming and delightful."

Again, here is a potent moral on instinct, which a mere wit or metaphysician could never have attained. "All the wonderful instincts of animals, which, in my humble opinion, are proved beyond a doubt, and the belief in which has not decreased with the increase of science and investigation—all these instincts are given them only for the combination or preservation of their species. If they had not these instincts, they would be swept off the earth in an instant. This bee, that understands architecture so well, is as stupid as a pebble-stone out of his own particular business of making honey ; and, with all his talents, he only exists that boys may eat his labours, and poets sing about them—' ut pueris placeas et declamatio fias.' A peasant girl of ten years old puts the whole republic to death with a little smoke, their palaces are turned into candles, and every clergyman's wife snakes mead-wine of the honey ; and there is an end of the glory and wisdom of the bees! Whereas, man has talents that have no sort of reference to his existence, and without which his species might remain upon earth in the same safety as if they had them not. The bee works at that particular angle which saves most time and la- bour; and the boasted edifice he is constructing is only for his egg ; but Somerset House, and Blenheim, and the Louvre, have nothing to do with breeding. Epic poems, and Apollo Belvideres, and Venus de Medieis, have nothing to do with living and eating. We might have discovered pig-nuts without the Royal Society, and gathered acorns without reasoning about curves of the ninth order. The immense superfluity of talent given to man, which has no bearing upon animal life, which has nothing to do with the mere preservation of existence, is one very distinguishing circumstance in this comparison. There is no other animal but man to whom mind appears to be given for any other purpose than the preservation of the body."