Irvine; I think it a very decent piece of furniture for a man of your profession, and that no limb of the faculty should be without one, accompanied with a proper apparatus of retorts, cucurbits, &c. For my part, if I could find a machine as proper for analyzing ideas, moral sentiments, and other materials belonging to the fourth kingdom, I believe I should find in my heart to bestow the money for it. I have the more use for a machine of this kind, because my alembick for performing these operationsI mean my cranium-has been a little out of order this winter, by a vertigo, which has made my studies go on heavily, though it has not hitherto interrupted my teaching. I have found air and exercise, and a clean stomach, the best remedies; but I cannot command the two former as often as I could wish. I am sensible that the air of a crowded class is bad, and often thought of carrying my class to the common hall; but I was afraid it might have been construed as a piece of ostentation. I hope you are carrying on your natural history, or something else, in the Club, with a view to make the world wiser. What is my Lord Linnæus doing? Are we ever to expect his third volume upon the fossile kingdom or not? We are here so busie reading lectures, that we have no time to write.

XI.

TO DR DAVID SKENE.

Glasgow College, 14 Sept. 1767. DEAR SIR,-It gives me much surprise, as well as affliction, to hear from my daughter Patty, of the death of my dear friend, your papa. Fifteen years ago it would have been no surprise; but for some years back, I thought there was great probability that his life and usefulness might have had a longer period. I can never, while I remember anything, forget the many agreeable hours I have enjoyed with him in that entire confidence and friendship which give relish to life. I never had a friend that shewed a more hearty affection, or a more uniform disposition to be obliging and useful to me and to my family. I had so many opportunities of observing his disinterested concern to be useful in his profession to those from whom he could expect no return, his sympathy with the distressed, and his assiduity in giving them his best assistance, that, if I had had no personal friendship with him, I could not but lament his death as a very great and general loss to the place. It is very uncommon to find a man that at any time of life, much more at his, possessed the active, the contemplative, and the social disposition at once in so great vigour. I

sincerely sympathize with you; and I beg you will assure each of your brothers and sisters of my sympathy; and that, besides my personal regard to every one of them, I hold myself to be under the strongest obligation from gratitude and regard to the memory of my deceased friend, if I can ever be of the least use to any of them.

You are now, dear Sir, in the providence of God, called to be a father as well as a brother; and I doubt not but you will acquit yourself in that character as you have done in the other. I need not say that Dr Skene's death gave very great affliction to Mrs Reid and to all my family; they all desire that you and all your family may be assured of their respect and sympathy....

I

Some days after I parted from you at Edinburgh, I was called home to do the last duty to my sweet little Bess, whom I had left in perfect health some days after her innoculation. Since that time I have not been three miles from Glasgow, but once at Hamilton with Mr Beattie. Having my time at command, I was tempted to fall to the tumbling over books, as we have a vast number here which I had not access to see at Aberdeen. But this is a mare magnum, wherein one is tempted, by hopes of discoveries, to make a tedious voyage, which seldom rewards his labour. have long ago found my memory to be like a vessel that is full; if you pour in more, you lose as much as you gain; and, on this account, have a thousand times resolved to give up all pretence to what is called learning, being satisfied that it is more profitable to ruminate on the little I have laid up, than to add to the indigested heap. To pour learning into a leaky vessel is indeed a very childish and ridiculous imagination. Yet, when a man has leisure, and is placed among books that are new to him, it is difficult to resist the temptation. Í have had little society, the college people being out of town, and have almost lost the faculty of speech by disuse. I blame myself for having corresponded so little with my friends at Aberdeen.

I wished to try Linnæus's experiment, which you was so good as to communicate to me. I waited for the heat of summer, which never came till the first of August, and then lasted but a few days. Not having any of the fungus powder at hand, I put a piece of fresh fungus which grew on rotten wood in pure water. In a day or two I found many animalcules diverting themselves in the water by diving and rising again to the top. But, after three or four days, the water turned muddy and stunk. And, from all I could then observe, I should rather have concluded that my animalcules died and putrified, than that they were transformed into young mushrooms. I see

would be fond of your acquaintance. As to myself, the immaterial world has swallowed up all my thoughts since I came here; but I meet with few that have travelled far in that region, and am often left to pursue my dreary way in a more solitary manner than

when we used to meet at the club. What is Linnæus doing? When you have leisure, indulge me with the pleasure of knowing that you have not forgot, dear Sir, your affectionate friend, THOMAS REID.

I.

ON THE DOCTRINE OF NECESSITY IN RELA

TION TO MORALS.

Glasgow College, 3d Dec. 1772. MY LORD, I was very glad to understand, by the letter you honoured me with of November 9, that you got safe home, after a long journey, in such dreadful rainy weather. I got to Mr C's on horseback soon after you left me, where I was in good warm quarters.

The case you state is very proper, to discover how far we differ with respect to the influence of the doctrine of necessity upon morals.

A man in a mad fit of passion stabs his best friend; immediately after, he condemns himself; and, at last, is condemned by a court of justice, although his passion was no less irresistible than if he had been pushed on by external violence.

My opinion of the case, my Lord, is this: if the passion was really as irresistible as you represent it, both in its beginning and progress, the man is innocent in the sight of God, who knows that he was driven as by a whirlwind, and that, the moment he was master of himself, he abhorred the action as much as a good man ought to do. At the same time, he reasonably may condemn himself, and be condemned by a court of justice.

He condemns himself, because, from his very constitution, he has a conviction that his passion was not irresistible. Every man has this conviction as long as he believes himself not to be really mad, and incapable of self-government. Even if he is a fatalist in speculation, that will not hinder this natural conviction when his conscience smites him, any more than speculative scepticism will hinder a man from apprehension of danger when a cart runs against him.

The court of justice condemns him for the same reason, because they believe that his passion was not irresistible. But, if it could be proved that the man was really incapable of bridling his passion—that is, that he was really mad-then the court of justice

ought not to punish him as a criminal, but to confine him as a madman.

In my

What is madness, my Lord? opinion, it is such weakness in the power of self-government, or such strength of passion, as deprives a man of the command of himself. The madman has will and intention, but he has no power to restrain them. If this madness continues so long as to be capable of proof from the tenor of a man's actions, he is no subject of criminal law, because he is not a free agent. If we suppose real madness to continue but for a moment, it makes a man incapable of a crime, while it lasts, as if it had continued for years.

But a momentary madness can have no effect to acquit a man in a court of justice, because it cannot be proved. It would not even hinder him from condemning himself, because he cannot know that he was mad.

In a word, if, by a mad fit of passion, your Lordship means real madness, though temporary, and not permanent, the man is not criminal for what this fit of madness produced. A court of justice would not impute the action to him, if this could be proved to be the case. But if, by a mad fit of passion, you mean only a strong passion, which still leaves a man the power of self-government, then he is accountable for his conduct to God and man; for every good man-yea, every man that would avoid the most heinous crimes-must at some times do violence to very strong passions. But hard would be our case indeed, if we were required, either by God or man, to resist irresistible passions.

You think that will and intention is sufficient to make an action imputable, even though that will be irresistibly determined. I beg leave to dissent, for the following

reasons:

1. An invincible error of the understanding, of memory, of judgment, or of reasoning, is not imputable, for this very reason, that it is invincible: why, then, should an error of the will be imputable, when it is supposed equally invincible? God Almighty has given us various powers of understanding and of will. They are all equally his workmanship. Our

understandings may deviate from truth, as our wills may deviate from virtue. You will allow that it would be unjust and tyrannical to punish a man for unavoidable deviations from truth. Where, then, is the justice of condemning and punishing him for the deviations of another faculty, which are equally unavoidable?

You say we are not to judge of this matter by reasons, but by the moral sense. Will you forgive me, my Lord, to put you in mind of a saying of Mr Hobbes, that when reason is against a man he will be against reason. I hope reason and the moral sense are so good friends as not to differ upon any point. But, to be serious, I agree with your Lordship, that it is the moral sense that must judge of this point, whether it be just to punish a man for doing what it was not in his power not to do. The very ideas or notions of just and unjust are got by the moral sense; as the ideas of blue and red are got by the sense of seeing. And as by the sense of seeing we determine that this body is red, and that is blue; so, by the moral sense, we determine this action to be just, and that to be unjust. It is by the moral sense that I determine, in general, that it is unjust to require any duty of a man which it is not in his power to perform. By the same moral sense, in a particular case, I determine a man to be guilty, upon finding that he did the deed voluntarily and with intention, without making any inquiry about his power. The way to reconcile these two determinations I take to be this :-that, in the last case, I take for granted the man's power, because the common sense of mankind dictates, that what a man did voluntarily and with intention, he had power not

to do.

2. A second reason of my dissent is, That the guilt of a bad action is diminished in proportion as it is more difficult to resist the motive. Suppose a man entrusted with a secret, the betraying of which to the enemy may ruin an army. If he discloses it for a bribe, however great, he is a villain and a traitor, and deserves a thousand deaths. But, if he falls into the enemy's hands, and the secret be wrested from him by the rack, our sentiments are greatly changed; we do not charge him with villany, but with weakness. We hardly at all blame a woman in such a case, because we conceive torture, or the fear of present death, to be a motive hardly resistible by the weaker sex.

As it is, therefore, the uniform judgment of mankind, that, where the deed is the same, and the will and intention the same, the degree of guilt must depend upon the difficulty of resisting the motive, will it not follow, that, when the motive is absolutely irresistible, the guilt vanishes altogether?

3. That this is the common sense of mankind, appears further from the way in which we treat madmen. They have will and intention in what they do; and, therefore, if no more is necessary to constitute a crime, they ought to be found guilty of crimes. Yet no man conceives that they can be at all subjects of criminal law. For what reason? for this, in my opinion, that they have not that power of self-command which is necessary to make a man accountable for his conduct.

You suppose, my Lord, a physical power to forbear an action even when it is necessary. But this I cannot grant. Indeed, upon the system of free agency, I can easily conceive a power which is not exerted; but, upon the system of necessity, there can be no such thing-every power that acts by necessity must be exerted.

I do indeed think, that a man may act without a motive; and that, when the motives to action lie all on one side, he may act in contradiction to them. But I agree with your Lordship, that all such actions are capricious; and I apprehend that, if there were no actions of this kind, there could be no such thing as caprice, nor any word in language to signify it: for why should every language have a word to signify a thing which never did nor can exist?

I agree also with your Lordship, that there can be no merit in such an action, even if it is innocent. But if it is vicious, it has the highest degree of demerit; for it it is sinning without any temptation, and serving the devil without any wages. It ought to be observed, however, that a virtuous action can never be capricious; because there is always a just and sufficient motive to it. For, if I have no other motive, I must at least have this, that is a worthy action, and is my duty; which, in reason, ought to weigh down all motives that can be put into the opposite scale. A capricious action may be innocent, and then it is folly; or it may be vicious, and then it is pure wickedness.

Liberty, like all other good gifts of God, may be abused. As civil liberty may be abused to licentiousness, so our natural liberty may be abused to caprice, folly, and vice. But the proper exercise of liberty is, after weighing duly the motives on both sides, to be determined, not by the strongest motive, but by that which has most authority.

It is of great importance in this matter, to distinguish between the authority of motives and their force. The part that is decent, that is manly, that is virtuous, that is noble, has always authority upon its side. Every man feels this authority in his own breast; and there are few men so wicked as not to yield to it when it has no antago

nist.

But pleasure, interest, passion, sloth, often muster a great force on the other side, which, though it has no authority, has often the greater power; and a conflict arises between these opposite parties. Every man is conscious of this conflict in his own breast, and is too often carried down by the superior force of the party which he knows to have no authority.

This is the conflict which Plato describes between reason and appetite; this is the conflict which the New Testament describes between the spirit and the flesh. The opposite parties, like Israel and Amalek, dispute the victory in the plain. When the self-determining power, like Moses upon the mount, lifts up its hand and exerts itself, then Israel prevails, and virtue is triumphant ; but when its hands hang down and its vigour flags, then Amalek prevails. I am, my dear Lord, most respectfully yours, THO. REID.

II.

ON THE MATERIALISM OF PRIESTLEY AND THE EGOISM OF FRENCH PHILOSOPHERS.

1775.

Dr Priestley, in his last book, thinks that the power of perception, as well as all the other powers that are termed mental, is the result of such an organical structure as that of the brain. Consequently, says he, the whole man becomes extinct at death, and we have no hope of surviving the grave, but what is derived from the light of Revelation. I would be glad to know your Lordship's opinion, whether, when my brain has lost its original structure, and when, some hundred years after, the same materials are again fabricated so curiously as to become an intelligent being, whether, I say, that being will be me; or, if two or three such beings should be formed out of my brain, whether they will all be me, and consequently all be one and the same intelligent being.

This seems to me a great mystery, but Priestley denies all mysteries. He thinks, and rejoices in thinking so, that plants have some degree of sensation. As to the lower animals, they differ from us in degree only, and not in kind. Only they have no promise of a resurrection. If this be true, why should not the King's advocate be ordered to prosecute criminal brutes, and

Our English 7 being of an ambiguous sound, it

would be convenient in psychology, could we occasion. ally employ me for a nominative, as the French do their moi. But this not being the case, Reid is here, as elsewhere in his letters, grammatically at fault. -H.

you criminal judges to try them? You are obliged to Dr Priestley for teaching you one-half of your duty, of which you knew nothing before. But I forgot that the fault lies in the legislature, which has not given you laws for this purpose. I hope, however, when any of them shall be brought to a trial, that he will be allowed a jury of his peers.

If it

I am not much surprised that your Lordship has found little entertainment in a late French writer on human nature. From what I learn, they are all become rank Epicureans. One would think that French politesse might consort very well with disinterested benevolence; but, if we believe themselves, it is all grimace. It is flattery, in order to be flattered; like that of the horse, who when his neck itches, scratches his neighbour, that he may be scratched by him again. I detest all systems that depreciate human nature. be a delusion, that there is something in the constitution of man that is venerable and worthy of its author, let me live and die in that delusion, rather than have my eyes opened to see my species in a humiliating and disgusting light. Every good man feels his indignation rise against those who disparage his kindred or his country; why should it not rise against those who disparage his kind? Were it not that we sometimes see extremes meet, I should think it very strange to see atheists and high-shod divines contending as it were who should most blacken and degrade human nature. Yet I think the atheist acts the more consistent part of the two for surely such views of human nature tend more to promote atheism, than to promote religion and virtue.

III.

:

ON THE CONVERSION OF CLAY INTO VEGETABLE MOULD.

October 1, 1775. The theory of agriculture is a wide and deep ocean, wherein we soon go beyond our depth.

I believe a lump of dry clay has much the same degree of hardness, whether the weather be hot or cold. It seems to be more affected by moisture or drought : and to be harder in dry weather, and more easily broken when a little moistened. But there is a degree of wetness in clay which makes it not break at all when struck or pressed; it is compressed and changes its figure, but does not break.

Clay ground, I think, ought to be ploughed

⚫ Helvetius, De l'Esprit.-LORD WOODHOUSELEp. Hardly; this work being then. nearly twenty years old. Probably the work, "Sur l'Homme."-H.