forgetting whatever was peculiar to the individual whence the original image was derived.

Chapter iii. treats of the importance of order in mental operations. Arrangement is rather a machinery of the mind, by means of which it repeats with quickness the operations of frequent recurrence, than a native force by which its power can be appreciated. Education may construct with more or less art the mill on the stream: but the stream itself has its supply from the fountains of nature.

In the fourth chapter, Mr. Duncan converses about the improvement of the mind. The word improvement has so vague a meaning as to be ill adapted for metaphysical philosophy. Dr. Watts introduced and Dr. Johnson sanctioned the present but recent acceptation of the word. On the church-clock we read, in capitals, "Improve your time;" and in the farmer's manual, we continually find, " Improve your land." Now both Time and Land may be applied to our use, but cannot both be made better. The mind acquires certain facilities of exertion by exercise, and accumulates memorable hoards by study: but does the activity which is taught by discipline, or the armour which is put on by labour, bestow strength on the combatant? The mind may be said to improve its education, when it makes a good use of it.

The memory is analyzed in chapter v, and is stated to be dependant on strength of mind. What is memory? — a power of reproducing ideas, in the absence of the sensible objects which occasioned them; and the memory is good in proportion to the completeness with which it repictures, without the model, that which it first copied from the model. Now it is probable that, in proportion to the distinctness and completeness of the original perception, will be the power of repeating it; and that memory has for its ultimate cause the perfection of the organs of perception.

Chapter vi. considers classification as the great instrument of judgment. We should rather have regarded it as a sort of mechanism, which increases the voluntary exercise of the memory, and enables it at pleasure to call up the ideas of which it desires the presence. The observation at p. 70. is just, that distinctness is the greatest attainment of the mind.

In chapter vii. the author maintains that the greatness of minds is to be known by the extent of objects which they can embrace. This definition wants distinctness. Minds do not embrace objects, but ideal pictures of objects: now the ideal pictures of objects of the greatest extent, such as the sidereal heavens, have no more nor less space in the mind than the microscopic pictures of objects of the smallest extent, such as

the

the foot of a centipes: since the mind always stretches the actual object of attention over its whole circle of view. As on the screen of a phantasmagoria, the figures contemplated dilate or dwindle: but the illuminated circle remains of the same dimension, whether it includes more or fewer apparitions. We copy a paragraph of this chapter.

The conception of connection and distinction is, in reality, but an act of the same talent inversely applied. As judgment is always produced by comparison, acuteness, whether it be displayed in the union or separation of qualities or objects, is equally the criterion of an enlarged mind. Every original idea, whether it appear in the discovery of truth, or the detection of error, every production independent of rules, and effort beyond education, displays strength of mind, as it shows extent of view. Novelty of ideas is always the indication of comprehensive, and the want of it, of contracted, ca. pacity. Genius is uniformly discovered by chusing a path for itself, while common talents are known by following the beaten tract. Little minds find employment within a very narrow circle, and are easily governed by the authority of celebrated names, established doctrines, and prevailing maxims. But independence of opinion, originality of thinking, and freedom of remark, denote the mind which is not to be fettered by common rules, and infallibly indicate a genius expanded beyond ordinary bounds.'

The eighth chapter observes that the mind excels in all things according to its strength. This is a truism; an identical proposition.

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In chapter the ninth, it is remarked that the mind is governed by the passions, and directed by accident. Are the passions accidents? The mind is said to be in a state of passion, or excitement, when its visual ideas are unusually illuminated, its auditive ideas unusually vibratory, its tactile ideas unusually prominent, and so forth. It is in this stimulated state of mind that the fancy acquires splendour, animation, and vigour, and scatters from her pictured urn

"Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn."

Ideas in a vivid state necessarily obtain notice in preference to ideas in a faint state; and, being themselves more active and motive than others, they more easily impart motion to the body, and occasion volition. The cause of passion is consequently to be sought in the tendency of certain ideas to grow vivid in the hero's mind, the imagery of warfare more easily kindles into a glowing brightness; and this tendency arises, not always, as the author thinks, from accident, but often from deliberately presenting to the mind such imagery when it is in an excited state, and prone to illuminate the present objects of contemplation. The passions themselves may, in a great

degree,

degree, be rendered voluntary, be strengthened by repetition, be weakened by neglect, and be produced, as in the case of stage-players, at the appointed time and place.

Chapter x. treats of labour as necessary to attain excellence. "Always wrestle with the difficulties of an art," is important advice to young practitioners.

It is observed, in the eleventh chapter, that the mind excels only by the appropriation of its powers; and that universal excellence is sufficiently prohibited by the necessity of labour to acquisition.' Yet Bacon may be said to have been an universalist, and Voltaire, and Aristotle. A man has not time to compile knowlege in every department: but he has time to ask what remains to be discovered in each principal department; and to apply all that he can command of reasoning power and appropriate research, in the pursuit of such discovery. Some preliminary information is necessary for every one who would make additions to human knowlege; but the chance of addition is not proportioned to the preliminary information, so much as to the dialectic or logical force of the mind, to the inventive fancy, or to the distinguishing judgment, which it may possess. Even to observe with skill the manners of an insect, and to refer them to their real motive and true purpose, will require in the soul a power of voluntary transmigration which might suffice to compose an historic drama. Industry is in nothing a substitute for sagacity: the appropriation of labour may make knowlege pass for skill: but the compilation of hewn stone must not be confounded with the architecture of a temple to truth.

The twelfth chapter maintains that certain simple subjects are adapted to busy and amuse ordinary capacities, and that other extensive subjects belong to superior minds. We must demur to a doctrine which involves the opinion that a parishhistory, for instance, would be the better for being written with tasteless and injudicious detail. Intellect applied to little things still exhibits its native sense of proportion, and, while it is using the microscope, can recollect the size of the mite.

Some men, says Mr. Duncan, in his thirteenth chapter, have too much genius for some subjects. Had Dr. Johnson too much genius to make a tragedy, or too little? Neither, we think. Why, then, did he not succeed? Merely because his habits of application had not been early directed towards that form of exertion. In order to dance well, the learner must practise during the adolescence of the body. Now the mind has its adolescence; during which those habits of exertion must be formed that are to display its powers advantageously. He must frequent debating societies at twenty, who means to be

an

an orator at forty; and he must make verses in his youth, who wishes to write poetry during his maturity. At a certain season of life, that elasticity of the mind abates which enables it to echo back whatever acts on its sympathy; and it is then too late to undertake new lines of intellectual activity. It would not correctly express the physical fact to say, "he has too much strength to run well:" nor does it correctly express the metaphysical fact in question to say," he has too much genius to write a tragedy well." His genius would be no obstacle to his excelling in an epigram, or a sonnet: it is the want of early practice which forbids the attainment.

A reviewer must be all ear to the fourteenth chapter. The genius of an author, we are informed, is not to be esti mated by the degree of pleasure which any production affords. If to bestow pleasure were the purpose of the work, this would surely be no bad criterion. To attain ends without needless efforts is a mark of superiority; and hence genius is often accompanied by a simplicity, a tranquilli y, a modesty, which will cause it to escape the notice of the multitude. Strong minds soon find out one another: but ordinary minds frequently over-rate inferiority, and overlook superiority. We extract from this chapter some just observations on style :

Beauty of style and perfection of matter are, indeed, often con. comitant. Elegance of style depends chiefly upon distinct compre hension, and clear ideas of the subject on which we are employed. Good thoughts, therefore, for the most part, force a style for themselves. The first and greatest beauty of style is simplicity of arrangement, and delicacy of connection; and surely nothing can be more immediately necessary to perspicuity. The second perfection of style is the choice of the particular matter, which is elegant as it is comprised in general ideas. The next department of style is simile, metaphor, and every species of figure. These qualities of style may be said to be adventitious, and intended merely for orna. ment, as the matter would suffer no injury in continuity by being deprived of them. But, undoubtedly, propriety of embellishment serves as much to illustrate the subject and enforce reasoning, as to engage attention and exercise imagination. The last requisite of style is expression, which may be divided into the choice and arrange ment of words. With regard to the first, we must be directed by general use and the authority of celebrated writers; with regard to the second, that arrangement is most elegant which contrasts,while it combines, the members of a sentence. But the chief beauty of expression is to use the exact number of words necessary, and no more. Another difficulty, however, remains to be mentioned, that is, the art of uniting sentences, and this is the greater as it demands variety as well as connection.'

In the fifteenth chapter, the author describes judgment and imagination as different applications of the mind, and therefore

2. The

likely to be both strong or both weak. We consider them as separable energies: a man may possess judgment, and want imagination, as Hobbes; he may have imagination, and want judgment, as Shakspeare; or he may unite both, as Burke. The mind has four primary actions, any one of which it may have a natural aptness to perform well or ill. 1. The mind perceives; and some minds perceive more rapidly or more distinctly than others the phænomena of sensation. mind remembers; and some minds recall more rapidly or more distinctly than others the images or ideas of absent sensations. 3. The mind imagines; and some minds combine at will, or voluntarily select, more rapidly or more distinctly than others, the ideas with which original scenery is to be composed. 4. The mind judges; (this seems to be accomplished by putting together two ideal pictures of the things to be compared, and watching to discover the points in which the contours differ;) and some minds can more rapidly or more distinctly than others bring into contiguity and define the variation of analagous ideas. This fourth action or operation of mind being the most complex and difficult, it is become usual to award the first place to those who excel in judgment, or intellect, of which the reasoning faculty has to record the steps. In all operations of mind, the rapidity seems to be a result of practice; while the distinctness is a native gift, resulting from the organization of the internal extremity of the bodily instruments of sensation.

We are told in the sixteenth chapter that fancy is but an inferior degree of judgment, and subservient to a higher. The process of judgment is an inversion of that of the imagination; it is a separation of the internal picture into the costume which was copied from authority, the attitude which was copied from art, and the physiognomy which was copied from nature, and a fresh comparison of each part with that which it aims at imitating. We imagine by putting together, we judge by dissecting.

The seventeenth chapter over-values choice of topic, and maintains that difference of subject creates difference of success, and enables one mind to excel another. This chapter contains some strange criticism. At p. 213. the "Paradise Lost" is preferred to the Iliad, and the genius of Homer is characterized as puerile and nugatory.

In the eighteenth chapter, Mr. Duncan attempts to separate the mind and the body; and to indicate how corporeal talents are to be distinguished from mental. It cannot be doubted that the musician, the dancer, and the actor, are in a high degree indebted to bodily structure for their ability to excel.

Chapter