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respective value of these several pleasures are necessarily familiar to all mankind, and

might be ascertained? If a man is balancing cannot possibly be forgotten on any occasion between the pain of privation and the pain where it is of importance to remember them. of shame, how is he relieved by merely find- If bad laws have been enacted, it certainly is ing these arranged under separate titles? or, not from having forgotten that the good of in either case, will it give him any informa- society is the ultimate object of all law, or tion, to be told that the value of a pain or that it is absurd to repress one evil by the pleasure depends upon its intensity, its dura- creation of a greater. Legislators have often tion, or its certainty? If a legislator is desi- bewildered themselves in the choice of means; rous to learn what degree of punishment is but they have never so grossly mistaken the suitable to a particular offence, will he be ends of their institution, as to need to be regreatly edified to read that the same punish-minded of these obvious and elementary ment may be more or less severe according truths. to the temperament, the intelligence, the rank, or the fortune of the delinquent; and that the circumstances that influence sensibility, though commonly reckoned to be only nine, may fairly be set down at fifteen? Is there any thing, in short, in this whole book, that realises the triumphant Introduction of the editor, or that can enable us in any one instance to decide upon the relative magnitude of an evil, otherwise than by a reference to the common feelings of mankind? It is true, we are perfectly persuaded, that by the help of these feelings, we can form a pretty correct judgment in most cases that occur; but Mr. Bentham is not persuaded of this; and insists upon our renouncing all faith in so incorrect a standard, while he promises to furnish us with another that is liable to no sort of inaccuracy. This promise we do not think he has in any degree fulfilled; because he has given us no rule by which the intensity of any pain or pleasure can be determined; and furnished us with no instrument by which we may take the altitude of enjoyment, or fathom the depths of pain. It is no apology for having made this promise, that its fulfilment was evidently impossible.

If there be any part of Mr. Bentham's classification that might be supposed to assist us in appreciating the comparative value of pleasures and pains, it must certainly be his enumeration of the circumstances that affect the sensibility of individuals. Even if this table were to fulfil all that it promises, however, it would still leave the system fundamentally deficient, as it does not enable us to compare the relative amount of any two plea sures or pains, to individuals in the same circumstances. In its particular application. however, it is truly no less defective; for though we are told that temperament, intelligence, &c. should vary the degree of punishment or reward, we are not told to what extent, or in what proportions, it should be varied by these circumstances. Till this be done, however, it is evident that the elements of Mr. Bentham's moral arithmetic have no determinate value; and that it would be perfectly impossible to work any practical problem in legislation by the help of them. It is scarcely necessary to add, that even if this were accomplished, and the cognisance of all these particulars distinctly enjoined by the law, the only effect would be, to introduce a puerile In multiplying these distinctions and divi- and fantastic complexity into our systems of sions which form the basis of his system, Mr. jurisprudence, and to encumber judicial proBentham appears to us to bear less resem- cedure with a multitude of frivolous or imblance to a philosopher of the present times, practicable observances. The circumstances, than to one of the old scholastic doctors, who in consideration of which Mr. Bentham would substituted classification for reasoning, and have the laws vary the punishment, are so looked upon the ten categories as the most numerous and so indefinite, that it would reuseful of all human inventions. Their dis- quire a vast deal more labour to ascertain tinctions were generally real, as well as his, their existence in any particular case, than to and could not have been made without the establish the principal offence. The first is misapplication of much labour and ingenuity: Temperament; and in a case of flogging, we But it is now generally admitted that they are suppose Mr. Bentham would remit a few of no use whatever, either for the promotion lashes to a sanguine and irritable delinquent, of truth, or the detection of error; and that and lay a few additional stripes on a phlegthey only serve to point out differences that matic or pituitous one. But how is the tem cannot be overlooked, or need not be remem-perament to be given in evidence? or are the bered. There are many differences and many judges to aggravate or alleviate a punishment points of resemblance in all actions, and in upon a mere inspection of the prisoner's com all substances, that are absolutely indifferent plexion. Another circumstance that should in any serious reasoning that may be entered affect the pain, is the offender's firmness of into with regard to them; and though much mind; and another his strength of understandindustry and much acuteness may be display-ing. How is a court to take cognisance of ed in finding them out, the discovery is just as unprofitable to science, as the enumeration of the adverbs in the creed, or the dissyllables in the decalogue, would be to theology. The greater number of Mr. Bentham's distinctions, however, are liable to objection, because they state, under an intricate and technical arrangement, those facts and circumstances only that

these qualities? or in what degree are they to affect their proceedings? If we are to admit such considerations into our law at all, they ought to be carried a great deal farther than Mr. Bentham has indicated; and it should be expressed in the statutes, what alleviation of punishment should be awarded to a culprit on account of his wife's pregnancy, or the

colour of his children's hair. We cannot help thinking that the undistinguishing grossness of our actual practice is better than such foppery. We fix a punishment which is calculated for the common, average condition of those to whom it is to be applied; and, in almost all cases, we leave with the judge a discretionary power of accommodating it to any peculiarities that may seem to require an exception. After all, this is the most plausible part of Mr. Bentham's arrangements.

to speculative irregularities; and he who could increase its quantity, or confirm its power, would do more service to mankind than all the philosophers that ever speculated on the means of their reformation.

through the subsequent part of his book, Mr. Bentham seems to forget that there is such a thing as common sense in the world; and to take it for granted, that if there be an opening in the letter of the law for folly, misapprehension, or abuse, its ministers will eagerly take advantage of it, and throw the whole frame of society into disorder and wretchedness. A very slight observation of the actual business of life might have taught him, that expediency may, for the most part, be readily and cerIn what he has said of the false notions tainly discovered by those who are interested which legislators have frequently followed in in finding it; and that in a certain stage of preference to the polar light of utility, we civilisation there is generated such a quantity think we discover a good deal of inaccuracy, of intelligence and good sense, as to disarm and some little want of candour. Mr. Ben- absurd institutions of their power to do mistham must certainly be conscious that no one chief, and to administer defective laws into a ever pretended that the mere antiquity of a system of practical equity. This indeed is law was a sufficient reason for retaining it, in the grand corrective which remedies all the spite of its evident inutility: But when the errors of legislators, and retrenches all that is utility of parting with it is doubtful, its an- pernicious in prejudice. It makes us indetiquity may fairly be urged as affording a pre-pendent of technical systems, and indifferent sumption in its favour, and as a reason for being cautious at least in the removal of what must be incorporated with so many other institutions. We plead the antiquity of our Constitution as an additional reason for not yielding it up to innovators: but nobody ever thought, we believe, of advancing this plea in support of the statutes against Witchcraft. In the same way, we think, there is more wit than reason in ascribing the errors of many legislators to their being misled by a metaphor. The metaphor, we are inclined to think, has generally arisen from the principle or practice to which Mr. Bentham would give effect independent of it. The law of England respects the sanctity of a free citizen's dwelling so much, as to yield it some privilege; and therefore an Englishman's house is called his Castle. The piety or superstition of some nations has determined that a criminal cannot be arrested in a place of worship. This is the whole fact; the usage is neither explained nor convicted of absurdity, by saying that such people call a church the House of God. If it were the house of God, does Mr. Bentham conceive that it ought to be a sanctuary for criminals? In what is said of the Fictions of law, there is much of the same misapprehension. Men neither are, nor ever were, misguided by these fictions; but the fictions are merely certain quaint and striking methods of expressing a rule that has been adopted in an appreh ›nsion of its utility. To deter men from committing treason, their offspring is associated to a certain extent in their punishment. The motive and object of this law is plain enough; and calling the effect "Corruption of blood," will neither aggravate nor hide its injustice. When it is said that the heir is the same person with the deceased, it is but a pithy way of intimating that he is bound in all the obligations, and entitled to all the rights of his predecessor. That the King never dies, is only another phrase for expressing that the office is never vacant; and that he is every where, is true, if it be lawful to say that a person can act by deputy. In all these observations, and in many that are scattered

In the following chapter we meet with a perplexity which, though very ingeniously produced, appears to us to be wholly gratui tous. Mr. Bentham for a long time can see no distinction between Civil and Criminal jurisprudence; and insists upon it, that rights and crimes necessarily and virtually imply each other. If I have a right to get your horse, it is only because it would be a crime for you to keep him from me; and if it be a crime for me to take your horse, it is only because you have a right to keep him. This we think is very pretty reasoning: But the distinction between the civil and the criminal law is not the less substantial and apparent. The civil law is that which directs and enjoins-the criminal law is that which Punishes. This is enough for the legislator; and for those who are to obey him. It is a curious inquiry, no doubt, how far all rights may be considered as the counterpart of crimes; and whether every regulation of the civil code necessarily implies a delict in the event of its violation. On this head there is room for a good deal of speculation; but in our opinion Mr. Bentham pushes the principle much too far. There seems to be nothing gained, for instance, either in the way of clearness or consistency, by arranging under the head of criminal law, those cases of refusal to fulfil contracts, or to perform obligations, for which no other punishment is or ought to be provided, but a compulsory fulfilment or performance. This is merely following out the injunction of the civil code, and cannot, either in law or in logic, be correctly regarded as a punishment. The proper practical test of a crime, is where, over and above the restitution of the violated right (where that is possible), the violator is subjected to a direct pain, in order to deter from the repetition of such offences.

In passing to the code of criminal law, Mr. Bentham does not forget the necessity of cla--

he is for making the delinquent pronounce a discourse of humiliation, either standing, or on his knees, before the offended party, and clothed in emblematical robes, with a mask of a characteristic nature on his head, &c. There possibly may be countries where such contrivances might answer; but, with us, they would not only be ineffectual, but ridiculous.

ifying and dividing. Delicts, according to him, are either, 1. Private, or against one or a few individuals; 2. Reflective, or against the delinquent himself; 3. Semipublic, or against some particular class or description of persons; and, finally, Public, or against the whole community. Private delicts, again, relate either to the person, the property, the reputation or the condition; and they are distributed into complex and simple, principal and In the choice of punishments, Mr. Bentham accessory, positive and negative, &c. &c. The wishes legislators to recollect, that punishchief evil of a crime is the alarm which it | ment is itself an evil; and that it consists of excites in the community; and the degree of five parts;-the evil of restraint-the evil of this alarm, Mr. Bentham assumes, depends suffering-the evil of apprehension-the evil upon eight circumstances, the particular situa- of groundless persecution-and the evils that tion of the delinquent, his motives, his noto- extend to the innocent connections of the deriety, his character, the difficulties or facilities linquent. For these reasons, he is anxious that of the attempt, &c. But here again, we see no punishment should be inflicted without a no sense in the enumeration; the plain fact real cause, or without being likely to influence being, that the alarm is increased by every the will; or where other remedies might thing which renders it probable that such acts have been employed; or in cases where the may be frequently repeated. In one case, and crime produces less evil than the punishment. one of considerable atrocity, there is no alarm These admonitions are all very proper, and, at all; because the only beings who can be we dare say, sincere; but we cannot think affected by it, are incapable of fear or suspi- that they are in any way recommended by cion-this is the case of infanticide: and Mr. their novelty. Bentham ingeniously observes, that it is probably owing to this circumstance that the laws of many nations have been so extremely indifferent on that subject. In modern Europe, however, he conceives that they are barbarously severe. In the case of certain crimes against the community, such as misgovernment of all kinds, the danger again is always infinitely greater than the alarm.

The remedies which law has provided against the mischief of crimes, Mr. Bentham says, are of four orders; preventive-repressive-compensatory-or simply penal. Upon the subject of compensation or satisfaction, Mr. Bentham is most copious and most original; and under the title of satisfaction in honour, he presents us with a very calm, acute, and judicious inquiry into the effects of duelling; which he represents as the only remedy which the impolicy or impotence of our legislators has left for such offences. We do not think, however, that the same good sense prevails in what he subjoins, as to the means that might be employed to punish insults and attacks upon the honour of individuals. According to the enormity of the offence,

In the section upon the indirect means of preventing crimes, there is a great deal of genius and strong reasoning; though there are many things set down in too rash and peremptory a manner, and some that are supported with a degree of flippancy not very suitable to the occasion. The five main sources of offence he thinks are, want of occupation, the angry passions, the passion of the sexes, the love of intoxication, and the love of gain. As society advances, all these lose a good deal of their mischievous tendency, excepting the last; against which, of course, the legisla ture should be more vigilant than ever. In the gradual predominance of the avaricious passions over all the rest, however, Mr. Bentham sees many topics of consolation; and concludes this part of his work with declaring, that it should be the great object of the criminal law to reduce all offences to that species which can be completely atoned for and repaired by payment of a sum of money. It is a part of his system, which we have forgotten to mention, that persons so injured should in all cases be entitled to reparation out of the public purse.

(January, 1804.)

Account of the Life and Writings of Thomas Reid, D. D. F. R. S., Edinburgh, late Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Glasgow. By DUGALD STEWART, F. R. S. Edinburgh: Read at different Meetings of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. 8vo. pp. 225. Edinburgh

and London: 1803.

ALTHOUGH it is impossible to entertain greater respect for any names than we do for those that are united in the title of this work, we must be permitted to say, that there are many things with which we cannot agree, both in the system of Dr. Reid, and in Mr.

Stewart's elucidation and defence of it. That elucidation begins, indeed, with a remark, which we are not at all disposed to controvert; that the distinguishing feature of Dr. Reid's philosophy is the systematical steadiness with which he has adhered to the course

of correct observation, and the admirable self-complished by the star-gazers who preceded command by which he has confined himself him; and the law of gravitation, which he to the clear statement of the facts he has col- afterwards applied to the planetary system, lected: But then Mr. Stewart immediately was first calculated and ascertained by experifollows up this observation with a warm en-ments performed upon substances which were comium on the inductive philosophy of Lord entirely at his disposal. Bacon, and a copious and eloquent exposition of the vast advantage that may be expected from applying to the science of Mind those sound rules of experimental philosophy that have undoubtedly guided us to all the splendid improvements in modern physics. From the time indeed that Mr. Hume published his treatise of human nature, down to the latest speculations of Condorcet and Mr. Stewart himself, we have observed this to be a favourite topic with all metaphysical writers; and that those who have differed in almost every thing else, have agreed in magnifying the importance of such inquiries, and in predicting the approach of some striking improvement in the manner of conducting them.

Now, in these speculations we cannot help suspecting that those philosophers have been misled in a considerable degree by a false analogy; and that their zeal for the promotion of their favourite studies has led them to form expectations somewhat sanguine and extravagant, both as to their substantial utility and as to the possibility of their ultimate improvement. In reality, it does not appear to us that any great advancement in the knowledge of the operations of mind is to be expected from any improvement in the plan of investigation; or that the condition of mankind is likely to derive any great benefit from the cultivation of this interesting but abstracted study.

Inductive philosophy, or that which proceeds upon the careful observation of facts, may be applied to two different classes of phenomena. The first are those that can be made the subject of proper Experiment: where the substances are actually in our power, and the judgment and artifice of the inquirer can be effectually employed to arrange and combine them in such a way as to disclose their most hidden properties and relations. The other class of phenomena are those that occur in substances that are placed altogether beyond our reach; the order and succession of which we are generally unable to control; and as to which we can do little more than collect and record the laws by which they appear to be governed. Those substances are not the subject of Experiment, but of Observation; and the knowledge we may obtain, by carefully watching their variations, is of a kind that does not directly increase the power which we might otherwise have had over them. It seems evident, however, that it is principally in the former of these departments, or the strict experimental philosophy, that those splendid improvements have been made, which have erected so vast a trophy to the prospective genius of Bacon. The astronomy of Sir Isaac Newton is no exception to this general remark: All that mere Observation could do to determine the movements of the heavenly bodies, had been ac

It will scarcely be denied, either, that it is almost exclusively to this department of proper Experiment, that Lord Bacon has directed the attention of his followers. His fundamental maxim is, that knowledge is power; and the great problem which he constantly aims at resolving is, in what manner the nature of any substance or quality may, by experiment, be so detected and ascertained as to enable us to manage it at our pleasure. The greater part of the Novum Organum accordingly is taken up with rules and examples for contriving and conducting experiments; and the chief advantage which he seems to have expected from the progress of those inquiries, appears to be centered in the enlargement of man's dominion over the material universe which he inhabits. To the mere Observer, therefore, his laws of philosophising, except where they are prohibitory laws, have but little application; and to such an inquirer, the rewards of his philosophy scarcely appear to have been promised. It is evident indeed that no direct utility can result from the most accurate observation of occurrences which we cannot control; and that for the uses to which such observations may afterwards be turned, we are indebted not so much to the observer, as to the person who discovered the application. It also appears to be pretty evident that in the art of observation itself, no very great or fundamental improvement can be expected. Vigilance and attention are all that can ever be required in an observer; and though a talent for methodical arrangement may facilitate to others the study of the facts that have been collected, it does not appear how our actual knowledge of those facts can be increased by any new method of describing them. Facts that we are unable to modify or direct, in short, can only be the objects of observation; and observation can only inform us that they exist, and that their succession appears to be governed by certain general laws.

In the proper Experimental philosophy, every acquisition of knowledge is an increase of power; because the knowledge is necessarily derived from some intentional disposition of materials which we may always command in the same manner. In the philosophy of observation, it is merely a gratification of our curiosity. By experiment, too, we generally acquire a pretty correct knowledge of the causes of the phenomena we produce; as we ourselves have distributed and arranged the circumstances upon which they depend; while, in matters of mere observation, the assignment of causes must always be in a good degree conjectural, inasmuch as we have no means of separating the preceding phenomena, or deciding otherwise than by analogy, to which of them the succeeding event is to be attributed.

Now, it appears to us to be pretty evident that the phenomena of the Human Mind are almost all of the latter description. We feel, and perceive, and remember, without any purpose or contrivance of ours, and have evidently no power over the mechanism by which those functions are performed. We may observe and distinguish those operations of mind, indeed, with more or less attention or exactness; but we cannot subject them to experiment, or alter their nature by any process of investigation. We cannot decompose our perceptions in a crucible, nor divide our sensations with a prism; nor can we, by art and contrivance, produce any combination of thoughts or emotions, besides those with which all men have been provided by nature. No metaphysician expects by analysis to discover a new power, or to excite a new sensation in the mind, as a chemist discovers a new earth or a new metal; nor can he hope, by any process of synthesis, to exhibit a mental combination different from any that nature has produced in the minds of other persons. The science of metaphysics, therefore, depends upon observation, and not upon experiment: And all reasonings upon mind proceed accordingly upon a reference to that general observation which all men are supposed to have made, and not to any particular experiments, which are known only to the inventor. -The province of philosophy in this department, therefore, is the province of observation only; and in this department the greater part of that code of laws which Bacon has provided for the regulation of experimental induction is plainly without authority. In metaphysics, certainly, knowledge is not power; and instead of producing new phenomena to elucidate the old, by well-contrived and wellconducted experiments, the most diligent inquirer can do no more than register and arrange the appearances, which he can neither account for nor control.

and accounts for his forgetfulness, by acknowledging that he had paid no attention. A groom, who never heard of the association of ideas, feeds the young war-horse to the sound of a drum; and the unphilosophical artists who tame elephants and train dancing dogs, proceed upon the same obvious and admitted principle. The truth is, that as we only know the existence of mind by the exercise of its functions according to certain laws, it is impossible that any one should ever discover or bring to light any functions or any laws of which men would admit the existence, unless they were previously convinced of their oper ation on themselves. A philosopher may be the first to state these laws, and to describe their operation distinctly in words; but men must be already familiarly acquainted with them in reality, before they can assent to the justice of his descriptions.

For these reasons, we cannot help thinking that the labours of the metaphysician, instead of being assimilated to those of the chemist or experimental philosopher, might, with less impropriety, be compared to those of the grammarian who arranges into technical order the words of a language which is spoken famil iarly by all his readers; or of the artist who exhibits to them a correct map of a district with every part of which they were previously acquainted. We acquire a perfect knowledge of our own minds without study or exertion, just as we acquire a perfect knowledge of our native language or our native parish; yet we cannot, without much study and reflection, compose a grammar of the one, or a map of the other. To arrange in correct order all the particulars of our practical knowledge, and to set down, without omission and without distortion, every thing that we actually know upon a subject, requires a power of abstraction, recollection, and disposition, that falls to the lot of but few. In the science of mind, perhaps, more of those qualities are required than in any other; but it is not the less true of this, than of all the rest, that the materials of the description must always be derived from a previous acquaintance with the subject-that nothing can be set down technically that was not practically known-and that no substantial addition is made to our knowledge by a scientific distribution of its particulars. After such a systematic arrangement has been introduced, and a correct nomenclature applied, we may indeed conceive more clearly, and will certainly describe more justly, the nature and extent of our information; but our information itself is not really increased, and the consciousness by which we are supplied with all the materials of our reflections, does not become more productive, by this dispo sition of its contributions.

But though our power can in no case be directly increased by the most vigilant and correct observation alone, our knowledge may often be very greatly extended by it. In the science of mind, however, we are inclined to suspect that this is not the case. From the very nature of the subject, it seems necessarily to follow, that all men must be practically familiar with all the functions and qualities of their minds; and with almost all the laws by which they appear to be governed. Every one knows exactly what it is to perceive and to feel, to remember, imagine, and believe; and though he may not always apply the words that denote these operations with perfect propriety, it is not possible to suppose that any one is ignorant of the things. Even those laws of thought, or connections of mental operation, that are not so commonly stated in But though we have been induced in this words, appear to be universally known; and way to express our scepticism, both as to the are found to regulate the practice of those probable improvement and practical utility who never thought of enouncing them in pre-of metaphysical speculations, we would by cise or abstract propositions. A man who never heard it asserted that memory depends upon attention, yet attends with uncommon care to any thing that he wishes to remember;

no means be understood as having asserted that these studies are absolutely without interest or importance. With regard to Perception, indeed, and some of the other primary

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