creation, 'As new waked from soundest sleep,' &c., and I think it was read well. I had brought with me to college a collection of my verses, which were soon so generally read that I gained the most undeserved name of the poet,' by which I was known for two or three winters. My manuscripts were shown to the learned Dr. Charles Burney, then finishing his term at Aberdeen. I was too obscure to know him personally; but I was intoxicated more than ever I shall be again by praise, when I heard that, in his opinion, I should go on and might do well.' I bought and read three or four books this first winter, which were very much out of the course of boys of fifteen anywhere, but most of all at Aberdeen. Among them was Priestley's Institutes of Natural and Revealed Religion, and Beattie's Essay on Truth, which confirmed my disposition to metaphysical inquiries, and Warburton's Divine Legation, which delighted me more than any book I had yet read, and which, perhaps, tainted my mind with a fondness for the twilight of historical hypothesis, but which certainly inspired me with that passion for investigating the history of opinions which has influenced my reading through life. I have often indulged my fancy at the expense of my understanding in looking around, when too clear a daylight did not prevent the mind from shaping and colouring objects at its pleasure. I have often felt a delightful sense of liberty in escaping from the narrow confines of reason, which I am disposed in part to attribute to a book which no boy or youth ever could have read without its making a deep impression on his mind. The luminous theory of hieroglyphics, as a stage in the progress of society, between picture-writing and alphabetic character, is perhaps the only addition made to the stock of knowledge in this extraordinary work; but the uncertain and probably false suppositions about the pantheism of the ancient philosophers, and the object

of the mysteries (in reality, perhaps, somewhat like the freemasonry of our own times) are well adapted to rouse and exercise the adventurous genius of youth. They must, I think, have contributed to form that propensity to theorise on the origin, progress, and decline of theories, which I still very strongly feel.

The history of speculation is extremely difficult, because it requires the union of a most philosophical spirit, with very various and exact learning. It requires a most familiar acquaintance with the works of a long succession of writers of various ages and nations, of their language, as it is affected by the peculiarities of their country, of their time, of their sect, and of their individual character. The historian must identify himself with them; and yet he must not be blinded by their prejudices. He must collect his materials from many writers, who at first sight appear little connected with his subject. He must be intimately acquainted with the civil history of those nations, amongst whom philosophy has flourished. After this, and much more previous preparation, the great difficulty still remains. The investigation of the causes which have affected opinion, is the most arduous exertion of human intellect. When all prejudices are subdued, and when all necessary knowledge is gained, the theory of theories will continue to have difficulties which belong to its nature, and which mere industry and impartiality will never overcome. The circumstances which determine the revolutions of speculation, are of so subtle and evanescent a kind, that the most refined politics of the most ingenious statesmen are comparatively gross and palpable. Changes of opinion resemble more those of the weather than any other appearances in the material world. Like them, they depend so much on minute, infinitely varied, and perpetually changing circumstances, that it seems almost

as desperate an attempt to explain them, as it would be to account for the shape of every passing cloud, or for the course of every breath of wind. breath of wind. But a volume would not explain the difficulties of this mental meteorology. I must, however, say, that I speak of my inclination, not of my proficiency. I never had industry; I now have not life enough to acquire the preliminary learning.

6

"To return from this digression, into which Warburton has led me. The winters of 1780-1, 1781-2, 1782-3, 1783-4, were passed at Aberdeen, and the vacations at the house of my grandmother. The second winter, according to the scheme of education at King's College, I fell under the tuition of Dr. Dunbar, author of Essays on the History of Mankind,' &c.; and under his care I remained till I left college. He taught mathematics, natural and moral philosophy, in succession. His mathematical and physical knowledge was scanty, which may, perhaps, have contributed to the scantiness of mine. In moral and political speculation, he rather declaimed, than communicated (as he ought) elementary instruction. He was, indeed, totally wanting in the precision and calmness necessary for this last office; but he felt, and in his declamation inspired, an ardour which, perhaps, raised some of his pupils above the vulgar, and which might even be more important than positive knowledge. He was a worthy and liberal-minded man, and a very active opponent of the American war. In spring, 1782, when the news arrived of the dismissal of Lord North, he met me in the street, and told me, in his pompous way, Well, Mr. M., I congratulate you;-the Augean stable is cleansed.' Instead of giving my own opinion of his book, I will rather state that it was commended by Dr. Robertson, and even by Dr. Johnson. I trace to his example some declamatory propensities in myself, which I have taste enough in

my sober moments to disapprove; but I shall ever be grateful to his memory, for having contributed to breathe into my mind a strong spirit of liberty, which, of all moral sentiments, in my opinion, tends most to swell the heart with an animating and delightful consciousness of our own dignity; which again inspires moral heroism, and creates the exquisite enjoyments of self-honour and self

reverence.

"We had among us some English dissenters, who were educated for the ecclesiastical offices of their sect. Robert Hall, now a dissenting clergyman at Cambridge, was of this number. He then displayed the same acuteness and brilliancy; the same extraordinary vigour, both of understanding and imagination, which have since distinguished him, and which would have secured to him much more of the admiration of the learned and the elegant, if he had not consecrated his genius to the far nobler office of instructing and reforming the poor.

"His society and conversation had a great influence on my mind. Our controversies were almost unceasing. We lived in the same house, and we were both very disputatious. He led me to the perusal of Jonathan Edwards' book on Free-Will, which Dr. Priestley had pointed out before. I am sorry that I never yet read the other works of that most extraordinary man, who, in a metaphysical age or country, would certainly have been deemed as much the boast of America, as his great countryman, Franklin. We formed a little debating society, in which one of the subjects of dispute was, 1 remember, the duration of future punishments. Hall defended the rigid, and I the more lenient opinion. During one winter, we met at five o'clock in the morning to read Greek, in the apartments of Mr. Wynne, a nephew of Lord Newburgh, who had the good nature to rise at that unusual hour for the mere purpose of

regaling us with coffee. Hall read Plato, and I went through Herodotus. Our academical instruction has left very few traces on my mind *.

;

* "When these two eminent men first became acquainted, Sir James was in his eighteenth year, Mr. Hall about a year older; and Sir James said he became attached to Mr. Hall "because he could not help it." There wanted many of the supposed constituents of friendship. Their tastes at the commencement of their intercourse were widely different and upon most of the topics of inquiry there was no congeniality of sentiment; yet, notwithstanding this, the substratum of their minds seemed of the same cast; and, upon this, Sir James thought the edifice of their mutual regard first rested. Yet he ere long became fascinated by his brilliancy and acumen, in love with his cordiality and ardour, and awe-struck (I think that was the term employed) by the transparency of his conduct, and the purity of his principles. They read together, they sat together at lecture, if possible, they walked together. In their joint studies they read much of Xenophon and Herodotus, and more of Plato; and so well was all this known, exciting admiration in some, in others envy, that it was not unusual, as they went along, for their class-fellows to point at them, and say, there go Plato and Herodotus.' But the arena in which they met most frequently, was that of morals and metaphysics. After having sharpened their weapons by reading, they often repaired to the spacious sands upon the sea shore, and still more frequently to the picturesque scenery on the banks of the Don, above the old town, to discuss with eagerness the various subjects to which their attention had been directed. There was scarcely an important position in Berkeley's Minute Philosopher, in Butler's Analogy, or in Edwards on the Will, over which they had not thus debated with the utmost intensity. Night after night; nay, month after month, for two sessions, they met only to study or dispute, yet no unkindly feeling ensued. The process seemed rather, like blows in that of welding iron, to knit them closer together. Sir James said his companion, as well as himself, often contended for victory; yet never, so far as he could then judge, did either make a voluntary sacrifice of truth, or stoop to draw to and fro the serra λoyoμaxias, as is too often the case with ordinary controvertists. From these discussions, and from subsequent discussion upon them, Sir James learnt more as to principles (such, at least, he assured me was his deliberate conviction), than from all the books he ever read. On the other hand, Mr. Hall, through life, reiterated his persuasion, that his friend possessed