{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_44949/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_44949","id":"gutenberg_44949","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44949","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Famous Scots Series","Ferrier, James Frederick, 1808-1864"],"text":"Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected\nwithout note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have\nbeen retained as printed. Words printed in italics are noted with\nunderscores: _italics_.\n\n\n\n\nJAMES FREDERICK FERRIER\n\n\nFAMOUS SCOTS SERIES\n\n\n_The following Volumes are now ready_--\n\n    THOMAS CARLYLE. By HECTOR C. MACPHERSON\n    ALLAN RAMSAY. By OLIPHANT SMEATON\n    HUGH MILLER. By W. KEITH LEASK\n    JOHN KNOX. By A. TAYLOR INNES\n    ROBERT BURNS. By GABRIEL SETOUN\n    THE BALLADISTS. By JOHN GEDDIE\n    RICHARD CAMERON. By Professor HERKLESS\n    SIR JAMES Y. SIMPSON. By EVE BLANTYRE SIMPSON\n    THOMAS CHALMERS. By Professor W. GARDEN BLAIKIE\n    JAMES BOSWELL. By W. KEITH LEASK\n    TOBIAS SMOLLETT. By OLIPHANT SMEATON\n    FLETCHER OF SALTOUN. By G. W. T. OMOND\n    THE BLACKWOOD GROUP. By SIR GEORGE DOUGLAS\n    NORMAN MACLEOD. By JOHN WELLWOOD\n    SIR WALTER SCOTT. By Professor SAINTSBURY\n    KIRKCALDY OF GRANGE. By LOUIS A. BARB\u00c9\n    ROBERT FERGUSSON. By A. B. GROSART\n    JAMES THOMSON. By WILLIAM BAYNE\n    MUNGO PARK. By T. BANKS MACLACHLAN\n    DAVID HUME. By Professor CALDERWOOD\n    WILLIAM DUNBAR. By OLIPHANT SMEATON\n    SIR WILLIAM WALLACE. By Professor MURISON\n    ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. By MARGARET MOYES BLACK\n    THOMAS REID. By Professor CAMPBELL FRASER\n    POLLOK and AYTOUN. By ROSALINE MASSON\n    ADAM SMITH. By HECTOR C. MACPHERSON\n    ANDREW MELVILLE. By WILLIAM MORRISON\n    JAMES FREDERICK FERRIER. By E. S. HALDANE\n\n\n\n\nJAMES FREDERICK FERRIER\n\n\nBY\n\nE. S. HALDANE\n\n\nFAMOUS SCOTS SERIES\n\nPUBLISHED BY OLIPHANT ANDERSON & FERRIER\nEDINBURGH AND LONDON\n\n\nThe designs and ornaments of this volume are by Mr. Joseph Brown, and\nthe printing from the press of Morrison & Gibb Limited, Edinburgh.\n\n1899.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                                 PAGE\n\nINTRODUCTION                                                        7\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nEARLY LIFE                                                         11\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nWANDERJAHRE--SOCIAL LIFE IN SCOTLAND--BEGINNING OF\nHIS LITERARY WORK                                                  27\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nPHILOSOPHY BEFORE FERRIER'S DAY                                    41\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n'FIERCE WARRES AND FAITHFUL LOVES'                                 56\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nDEVELOPMENT OF 'SCOTTISH PHILOSOPHY, THE OLD AND THE\nNEW'--FERRIER AS A CORRESPONDENT                                   72\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nFERRIER'S SYSTEM OF PHILOSOPHY--HIS PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS            88\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTHE COLERIDGE PLAGIARISM--MISCELLANEOUS LITERARY WORK             106\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nPROFESSORIAL LIFE                                                 122\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nLIFE AT ST. ANDREWS                                               138\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nLAST DAYS                                                         152\n\n\n\n\nJAMES FREDERICK FERRIER\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nMr. Oliphant Smeaton has asked me to write a few words of preface to\nthis little book. If I try, it is only because I am old enough to have\nhad the privilege of knowing some of those who were most closely\nassociated with Ferrier.\n\nWhen I sat at the feet of Professor Campbell Fraser in the Metaphysics\nclassroom at Edinburgh in 1875, Ferrier's writings were being much read\nby us students. The influence of Sir William Hamilton was fast\ncrumbling in the minds of young men who felt rather than saw that much\nlay beyond it. We were still engrossed with the controversy, waged in\nbooks which now, alas! sell for a tenth of their former price, about\nthe Conditioned and the Unconditioned. We still worked at Reid,\nHamilton, and Mansel. But the attacks of Mill on the one side, and of\nFerrier and Dr. Stirling on the other, were slowly but surely\nwithdrawing our interest. Ferrier had pointed out a path which seemed\nto lead us in the direction of Germany if we would escape from Mill,\nand Stirling was urging us in the same sense. It was not merely that\nFerrier had written books. He had died more than ten years earlier, but\nhis personality was still a living influence. Echoes of his words came\nto us through Grant and Sellar. Outside the University, men like\nBlackwood and Makgill made us feel what a power he had been. But that\nwas not all for at least some of us. Mrs. Ferrier had removed to\nEdinburgh--and I endorse all that my sister says of her rare quality.\nShe lived in a house in Torphichen Street, which was the resort of\nthose attracted, not only by the memory of her husband, but by her own\ngreat gifts. She was an old lady and an invalid. But though she could\nnot move from her chair, paralysis had not dimmed her mental powers.\nShe was a true daughter of 'Christopher North.' I doubt whether I have\nseen her rival in quickness, her superior I never saw. She could talk\nadmirably to those sitting near her, and yet follow and join in the\nconversation of another group at the end of the room. She could adapt\nherself to everyone--to the shy and awkward student of eighteen, who\nlike myself was too much in awe of her to do more unhelped than answer,\nand to the distinguished men of letters who came from every quarter\nattracted by her reputation for brilliance. The words of no one could\nbe more incisive, the words of no one were habitually more kind than\nhers. She had known everybody. She forgot nobody. In those days the\nrelation between Literature and the Parliament House, if less close\nthan it had been, was more apparent than it is to-day, and\ndistinguished Scottish judges and advocates mingled in the afternoon in\nthe drawing-room, where she sat in a great arm-chair, with such men as\nSellar and Stevenson and Grant and Shairp and Tulloch. But her\npersonality was the supreme bond.\n\nThose days are over, and with them has passed away much of what\nstimulated one to read in the _Institutes_ or the _Philosophical\nRemains_. But for the historian of British philosophy Ferrier\ncontinues as a prominent figure. He it was who first did, what Stirling\nand Green did again at a stage later on--make a serious appeal to\nthoughtful people to follow no longer the shallow rivulets down which\nthe teaching of the great German thinkers had trickled to them, but to\nseek the sources. If as a guide to those sources we do not look on him\nto-day as adequate, we are not the less under a deep obligation to him\nfor having been the pioneer of later guides. What Ferrier wrote about\nforty years ago has now become readily accessible, and what has been\ngot by going there is in process of rapid and complete assimilation.\nThe opinions which were in 1856 regarded by the authorities of the Free\nand United Presbyterian Churches as disqualifying Ferrier for the\nopportunity of influencing the mind of the youth of Edinburgh, from the\nChair of Logic and Metaphysics in succession to Sir William Hamilton,\nare regarded by the present generation of Presbyterians as the main\nreliable bulwark against the attacks of unbelievers. If one may judge\nby the essays in the recent volume called _Lux Mundi_, the same\nphenomenon displays itself among the young High Church party in\nEngland. The Time-Spirit is fond of revenges.\n\nBut even for others than the historians of the movement of Thought the\nbooks of Ferrier remain attractive. There is about them a certain\natmosphere in which everything seems alive and fresh. Their author was\nno Dryasdust. He was a living human being, troubled as we are troubled,\nand interested in the things which interest us. He spoke to us, not\nfrom the skies, but from among a crowd of his fellow human beings, and\nwe feel that he was one of ourselves. As such it is good that a\nmemorial of him should be placed where it may easily be seen.\n\nR. B. HALDANE.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nEARLY LIFE\n\n\nIt may be a truism, but it is none the less a fact, that it is not\nalways he of whom the world hears most who influences most deeply the\nthought of the age in which he lives. The name of James Frederick\nFerrier is little heard of beyond the comparatively small circle of\nphilosophic thinkers who reverence his memory and do their best to keep\nit green: to others it is a name of little import--one among a\nmultitude at a time when Scotland had many sons rising up to call her\nblessed, and not perhaps one of the most notable of these. And yet,\ncould we but estimate the value of work accomplished in the higher\nsphere of thought as we estimate it in the other regions of practical\nwork--an impossibility, of course--we might be disposed to modify our\nviews, and accord our praises in very different quarters from those in\nwhich they are usually bestowed.\n\nJames Ferrier wrote no popular books; he came before the public\ncomparatively little; he made no effort to reconcile religion with\nphilosophy on the one hand, or to propound theories startling in their\nunorthodoxy on the other. And still we may claim for him a place--and\nan honourable place--amongst the other Famous Scots, for the simple\nreason that after a long century of wearisome reiteration of tiresome\nplatitudes--platitudes which had lost their original meaning even to\nthe utterers of them, and which had become misleading to those who\nheard and thought they understood--Ferrier had the courage to strike\nout new lines for himself, to look abroad for new inspiration, and to\nhand on these inspirations to those who could work them into a truly\nnational philosophy.\n\nIn Scotland, where, in spite of politics, traditions are honoured to a\ndegree unknown to most other countries, family and family associations\ncount for much; and in these James Ferrier was rich. His father was a\nWriter to the Signet, John Ferrier by name, whose sister was the famous\nScottish novelist, Susan Ferrier, authoress of _The Inheritance_,\n_Destiny_, and _Marriage_. Susan Ferrier did for high life in Scotland\nwhat Gait achieved for the humbler ranks of society, and attained to\nconsiderable eminence in the line of fiction which she adopted. Her\nworks are still largely read, have recently been republished, and in\ntheir day were greatly admired by no less an authority than Sir Walter\nScott, himself a personal friend of the authoress.[1] Ferrier's\ngrandfather, James Ferrier, also a Writer to the Signet, was a man of\ngreat energy of character. He acted in a business capacity for many\nyears both to the Duke of Argyle of the time and to various branches of\nthe Clan Campbell: it was, indeed, through the influence of the Duke\nthat he obtained the appointment which he held of Principal Clerk of\nSession. James Ferrier, like his daughter, was on terms of intimate\nfriendship with Sir Walter Scott, with whom he likewise was a colleague\nin office. Scott alludes to him in his Journal as 'Uncle Adam,' the\nname of a character in Miss Ferrier's _Inheritance_, drawn, as she\nherself acknowledges, from her father. He died in 1829, at which time\nScott writes of him: 'Honest old Mr. Ferrier is dead, at extreme old\nage. I confess I should not like to live so long. He was a man with\nstrong passions and strong prejudices, but with generous and manly\nsentiments at the same time.' James Ferrier's wife, Miss Coutts, was\nremarkable for her beauty: a large family was born to her, the eldest\nson of whom was James Frederick Ferrier's father. Young Ferrier, the\nsubject of this sketch, used frequently to dine with his grandfather at\nhis house in Morningside, where Susan Ferrier acted in the capacity of\nhostess; and it is easy to imagine the bright talk which would take\nplace on these occasions, and the impression which must have been made\nupon the lad, both then and after he attained to manhood; for Miss\nFerrier survived until 1854. In later life, indeed, her wit was said to\nbe somewhat caustic, and she was possibly dreaded by her younger\nfriends and relatives as much as she was respected; but this, to do her\njustice, was partly owing to infirmities. She was at anyrate keenly\ninterested in the fortunes of her nephew, to whom she was in the habit\nof alluding as 'the last of the metaphysicians'--scarcely, perhaps, a\nvery happy title for one who was somewhat of an iconoclast, and began a\nnew era rather than concluded an old.\n\n          [1] In a _Life of Susan Ferrier_, lately published, an\n          account of the family is given which was written by Miss\n          Ferrier, for her nephew, the subject of our memoir.\n\nJames Frederick Ferrier's mother, Margaret Wilson, was a sister of\nProfessor John Wilson--the 'Christopher North' of immortal memory,\nwhose daughter he was afterwards to marry. Margaret Ferrier was a woman\nof striking personal beauty. Her features were perfect in their\nsymmetry, as is shown in a lovely miniature, painted by Saunders, a\nwell-known miniature painter of the day, now in the possession of\nProfessor Ferrier's son, her grandson. Many of these personal charms\ndescended to James Ferrier, whose well-cut features bore considerable\nresemblance to his mother's. And his close connection with the Wilson\nfamily had the result of bringing the young man into association with\nwhatever was best in literature and art. While yet a boy, we are told,\nhe sat upon Sir Walter's knee; the Ettrick Shepherd had told him tales\nand recited Border ballads; while Lockhart took the trouble to draw\npictures, as he only could, to amuse the child.\n\nIn surroundings such as these James Frederick Ferrier was born on the\n16th day of June 1808, his birthplace being Heriot Row, in the new town\nof Edinburgh--a street which has been made historic to us by the\nrecollections of another child who lived there long years afterwards,\nand who left the grey city of his birth to die far off in an island in\nthe Pacific. But of Ferrier's child-life we know nothing: whether he\nplayed at 'tig' or 'shinty' with the children in the adjoining gardens,\nor climbed Arthur's Seat, or tried to scale the 'Cats' Nick' in the\nSalisbury Crags close by; or whether he was a grave boy, 'holding at'\nhis lessons, or reading other books that interested him, in preference\nto his play. Ferrier did not dwell on these things or talk much of his\nyouth; or if he did so, his words have been forgotten. What we do\nknow are the barest facts: that his second name was given him in\nconsideration of his father's friendship with Lord Frederick Campbell,\nLord Clerk Register of Scotland; that his first name, as is usual in\nScotland for an elder son, was his paternal grandfather's; and that he\nwas sent to live with the Rev. Dr. Duncan, the parish minister of\nRuthwell, in Dumfriesshire, to receive his early education. Dr. Duncan\nof Ruthwell was a man of considerable ability and energy of character,\nthough not famous in any special sphere of learning. He is well known,\nhowever, in the south of Scotland as the originator of Savings Banks\nthere, and his works on the Seasons bear evidence of an interest in the\nnatural world. At anyrate the time passed in Dumfriesshire would appear\nto have left pleasant recollections; for when Ferrier in later life\nalluded to it, it was with every indication of gratitude for the\ninstruction which he received. He kept up his friendship with the sons\nof his instructor as years went on, and always expressed himself as\ndeeply attached to the place where a happy childhood had been passed.\nNor was learning apparently neglected, for Ferrier began his Latin\nstudies at Ruthwell, and there first learned--an unusual lesson for so\nyoung a boy--to delight in the reading of the Latin poets, and of\nVirgil and Ovid in particular. After leaving Ruthwell, he attended the\nHigh School of Edinburgh, the great Grammar School of the metropolis,\nwhich was, however, soon to have a rival in another day school set up\nin the western part of the rapidly growing town; and then he was sent\nto school at Greenwich, where he was placed under the care of Dr.\nBurney, a nephew of the famous Fanny Burney, afterwards Madame\nd'Arblay. From school, as the manner of the time was, the boy passed to\nthe University of Edinburgh at the age of seventeen,--older really than\nwas customary in his day,--and here he remained for the two sessions\n1825-26 and 1826-27, or until he was old enough to matriculate at\nOxford. At Edinburgh, Ferrier distinguished himself in the class of\nMoral Philosophy, and carried off the prize of the year for a poem\nwhich was looked upon as giving promise of literary power afterwards\nfulfilled. His knowledge of Latin and Greek were considered good (the\nstandard might not have been very high), but in mathematics he was\nnowhere. At Oxford he was entered in 1828 as a 'gentleman-commoner' at\nMagdalen College, the College of his future father-in-law, John Wilson.\nA gentleman-commoner of Magdalen in the earlier half of the century is\nnot suggestive of severe mental exercise,[2] and from the very little\none can gather from tradition--for contemporaries and friends have\nnaturally passed away--James Ferrier was no exception to the common\nrule. That he rode is very clear; the College was an expensive one,\nand he was probably inclined to be extravagant. Tradition speaks of\nhis pelting the deer in Magdalen Park with eggs; but as to further\ndistinction in more intellectual lines, record does not tell. In this\nrespect he presents a contrast to his predecessor at Oxford, and friend\nof later days, Sir William Hamilton, whose monumental learning created\nhim a reputation while still an undergraduate. Sir Roundell Palmer,\nafterwards Lord Selborne, was a contemporary of Ferrier's at Oxford;\nSheriff Campbell Smith was at the bar of the House of Lords acting as\nPalmer's junior the day after Ferrier's death, and Sir Roundell told\nhim that he remembered Ferrier well at College; he described him as\n'careless about University work,' but as writing clever verses, several\nof which he repeated with considerable gusto. Of other friends the\nnames alone are preserved, William Edward Collins, afterwards\nCollins-Wood of Keithick, Perthshire, who died in 1877, and J. P.\nShirley of Ettington Park, in Warwickshire;[3] but what influences were\nbrought to bear upon him by his University life, or whether his\ninterest in philosophical pursuits were in any way aroused during his\ntime at College, we have no means of telling. A later friend, Henry\nInglis, wrote of these early days: 'My friendship with Ferrier began\nabout the time he was leaving Oxford, or immediately after he had left\nit--I should say about 1830 or thereabout. At that University I don't\nthink he did anything more remarkable than contracting a large tailor's\nbill; which annoyed him for many years afterwards. At that time he was\na wonderfully handsome, intellectual-looking young man,--a tremendous\n\"swell\" from top to toe, and with his hair hanging down over his\nshoulders.' Though later on in life this last characteristic was not so\nmarked, Ferrier's photographs show his hair still fairly long and\nbrushed off a finely-modelled square forehead, such as is usually\nassociated with strongly developed intellectual faculties.\n\n          [2] The gentlemen-commoners at Magdalen, as elsewhere, paid\n          higher fees and wore a distinctive costume; at Magdalen they\n          had a common room of their own, distinct from that of the\n          Fellows, or the Demies or Scholars, and seldom read for\n          honours. In Ferrier's days Magdalen College admitted no\n          ordinary commoners, and there were but few resident\n          undergraduates, many of the thirty demies being graduates\n          and non-resident. In the year of his matriculation there\n          were only ten gentlemen-commoners; thus, as far as\n          undergraduates went, the College was a small one.\n\n          [3] Mr. Shirley was Member of Parliament for South\n          Warwickshire, a well-known genealogist, and the author of\n          _The Noble and Gentle Men of England_.\n\nIt is known that Ferrier took his Bachelor's degree in 1832, and that\nhe had by that time managed to acquire a very tolerable knowledge of\nthe classics and begun to study philosophy, so that his time could not\nhave been entirely idle. For the rest, he probably passed happily\nthrough his years at College, as many others have done before and after\nhim, without allowing more weighty cares to dwell upon his mind.\nAnother friend of after days, the late Principal Tulloch, after noting\nthe fact that Oxford had not then developed the philosophic spirit\nwhich in recent years has marked her schools, and which had not then\ntaken root any more than the High Church movement which preceded it,\ngoes on: 'It may be doubted, indeed, whether Oxford exercised any\ndefinite intellectual influence on Professor Ferrier. He had imbibed\nhis love for the Latin poets before he went there, and his devotion to\nGreek philosophy was an after-growth with which he never associated his\nMagdalen studies. To one who visited the College with him many years\nafterwards, and to whom he pointed out with admiration its noble walks\nand trees, his associations with the place seemed to be mainly those of\namusement. There is reason to think that few of those who knew him at\nMagdalen would have afterwards recognised him in the laborious student\nat St. Andrews, who for weeks together would scarcely cross the\nthreshold of his study; and yet to all who knew him well, there was\nnevertheless a clear connection between the gay gownsman and the\nhard-working Professor.'\n\nIn 1832, Ferrier became an advocate at Edinburgh, but it does not\nappear that he had any serious idea of practising at the Bar. This is\nthe period at which we know that the passion for metaphysical\nspeculation laid hold of him,--a passion which is unintelligible and\ninexplicable to those who do not share in it,--and as Ferrier could not\nclearly say in what direction this was leading him, as far as practical\nlife was concerned, he probably deemed it best to attach himself to a\nprofession which left much scope to the adopter of it, to strike out\nlines of his own. What led Ferrier to determine to spend some months of\nthe year 1834 at Heidelberg it would be extremely interesting to know.\nThe friend first quoted writes: 'I cannot tell of the influences under\nwhich he devoted himself to metaphysics. My opinion is that there were\nnone, but that he was a philosopher born. He attached himself at once\nto the fellowship of Sir William Hamilton, to whom he was introduced by\na common friend--I think the late Mr. Ludovic Colquhoun. I know that he\nlooked on Sir William at that time as his master.'\n\nProbably the friendship with Hamilton simply arose from the natural\nattraction which two sympathetic spirits feel to one another. It is\nclear that at this time Ferrier's bent was towards metaphysics, and\nthat, as Mr. Inglis says, this bent was born with him and was only\nbeginning to find its natural outlet; therefore it would be very\nnatural to suppose that acquaintance would be sought with one who was\nat this time in the zenith of his powers, and whose writings in the\n_Edinburgh Review_ were exciting liveliest interest. A casual\nacquaintanceship between the young man of three-and-twenty and the\nmatured philosopher twenty years his senior soon ripened into a\nfriendship, not perhaps common between two men so different in age. It\nis perhaps more remarkable considering the differences in opinion on\nphilosophical questions which soon arose between the two; for it is\njust as difficult for those whose point of view is fundamentally\nopposed on speculative questions to carry on an intercourse concerning\ntheir pursuits which shall be both friendly and unconstrained, as for\ntwo political opponents to discuss vital questions of policy without\nany undercurrent of self-restraint, when they start from entirely\nopposite principles. Most likely had the two been actually\ncontemporaries it might not have been so easy, but as it was, the\nyounger man started with, and preserved, the warmest feelings to his\nsenior; and even in his criticisms he expresses himself in the\nstrongest terms of gratitude: 'He (Hamilton) has taught those who study\nhim to _think_, and he must take the consequences, whether they think\nin unison with himself or not. We conceive, however, that even those\nwho differ from him most, would readily own that to his instructive\ndisquisitions they were indebted for at least half of all they know of\nphilosophy.' And in the appendix to the _Institutes_, written soon\nafter Sir William's death, Ferrier says: 'Morally and intellectually,\nSir William Hamilton was among the greatest of the great. A simpler and\na grander nature never arose out of darkness into human life; a truer\nand a manlier character God never made. For years together scarcely a\nday passed in which I was not in his company for hours, and never on\nthis earth may I expect to live such happy hours again. I have learned\nmore from him than from all other philosophers put together; more, both\nas regards what I assented to and what I dissented from.' It was this\nopen and free discussion of all questions that came before\nthem--discussion in which there must have been much difference of\nopinion freely expressed on both sides, that made these evenings spent\nin Manor Place, where the Hamiltons, then a recently married couple,\nhad lately settled, so delightful to young Ferrier. He had\nindividuality and originality enough not to be carried away by the\narguments used by so great an authority and so learned a man as his\nfriend was reckoned, and then as later he constantly expressed his\nregret that powers so great had been devoted to the service of a\nphilosophic system--that of Reid--of which Ferrier so thoroughly\ndisapproved. But at the same time he hardly dared to expect that the\nlabours of a lifetime could be set aside at the bidding of a man so\nmuch his junior, and to say the truth it is doubtful whether Hamilton\never fully grasped his opponent's point of view. Still, Ferrier tells\nus that from first to last his whole intercourse with Sir William\nHamilton was marked with more pleasure and less pain than ever attended\nhis intercourse with any human being, and after Hamilton was gone he\ncherished that memory with affectionate esteem. A touching account is\ngiven in Sir William's life of how during that terrible illness which\nso sadly impaired his powers and nearly took his life, Ferrier might be\nseen pacing to and fro on the street opposite his bedroom window during\nthe whole anxious night, watching for indications of his condition, yet\nunwilling to intrude on the attendants, and unable to tear himself from\nthe spot where his friend was possibly passing through the last agony.\nSuch friendship is honourable to both men concerned.\n\nPerhaps, then, it was this intercourse with kindred spirits (for many\nsuch were in the habit of gathering at the Professor's house) that\ncaused Ferrier finally to determine to make philosophy the pursuit of\nhis life--this combined, it may be, with the interest in letters which\nhe could not fail to derive from his own immediate circle. He was in\nconstant communication with Susan Ferrier, his aunt, who encouraged his\nliterary bent to the utmost of her power. Then Professor Wilson, his\nuncle, though of a very different character from his own, attracted him\nby his brightness and wit--a brightness which he says he can hardly\nbring before himself, far less communicate to others who had not known\nhim. Perhaps, as the same friend quoted before suggests, the attraction\nwas partly due to another source. He says: 'How Ferrier got on with\nWilson I never could divine; unless it were through the bright eyes of\nhis daughter. Wilson and Ferrier seemed to me as opposite as the poles;\nthe one all poetry, the other all prose. But the youth probably yielded\nto the mature majesty and genius of the man. Had they met on equal\nterms I don't think they could have agreed for ten minutes. As it was,\nthey had serious differences at times, which, however, I believe were\nall ultimately and happily adjusted.'\n\nThe visits to his uncle's home, and the attractive young lady whom he\nthere met, must have largely contributed to Ferrier's happiness in\nthese years of mental fermentation. Such times come in many men's lives\nwhen youth is turning into manhood, and powers are wakening up within\nthat seem as though they would lead us we know not whither. And so it\nmay have been with Ferrier. But he was endowed with considerable\ncalmness and self-command, combined with a confidence in his powers\nsufficient to carry him through many difficulties that might otherwise\nhave got the better of him. Wilson's home, Elleray, near the Lake of\nWindermere, was the centre of a circle of brilliant stars. Ferrier\nrecollected, while still a lad of seventeen years of age, meeting there\nat one time, in the summer of 1825, Scott, Wordsworth, Lockhart, and\nCanning, a conjunction difficult to beat.[4] Once more, we are told,\nand on a sadder occasion, he came into association with the greatest\nScottish novelist. 'It was on that gloomy voyage when the suffering man\nwas conveyed to Leith from London, on his return from his ill-fated\nforeign journey. Mr. Ferrier was also a passenger, and scarcely dared\nto look on the almost unconscious form of one whose genius he so warmly\nadmired.' The end was then very near.\n\n          [4] This meeting occurred after the Irish tour of Scott,\n          Miss Anne Scott, and Lockhart, when they visited Wilson at\n          Elleray. Canning was staying at Storre, in the\n          neighbourhood.\n\nProfessor Ferrier's daughter tells us that long after, in the summer of\n1856, the family went to visit the English Lakes, the centre of\nattraction being Elleray, Mr. Ferrier's old home and birthplace. 'The\nvery name of Elleray breathes of poetry and romance. Our father and\nmother had, of course, known it in its glorious prime, when our\ngrandfather, \"Christopher North,\" wrestled with dalesmen, strolled in\nhis slippers with Wordsworth to Keswick (a distance of seventeen\nmiles), and kept his ten-oared barge in the long drawing-room of\nElleray. In these days they had \"rich company,\" and the names of\nSouthey, Wordsworth, De Quincey, and Coleridge were to them familiar\nhousehold words. The cottage my mother was born in still stands,\novershadowed by a giant sycamore.'\n\nWe can easily imagine the effect which society such as this would have\non a young man's mind. But more than that, the friendship with the\nattractive cousin, Margaret Wilson, developed into something warmer,\nand an engagement was finally formed, which culminated in his marriage\nin 1837. Not many of James Ferrier's letters to his cousin during the\nlong engagement have been preserved; the few that are were written from\nGermany in 1834, the year in which he went to Heidelberg; they were\naddressed to Thirlstane House, near Selkirk, where Miss Wilson was\nresiding, and they give a lively account of his adventures.\n\nThe voyage from Leith to Rotterdam, judging from the first letter\nwritten from Heidelberg, and dated August 1834, would appear to have\nbegun in inauspicious fashion. Ferrier writes: 'I have just been here a\nweek, and would have answered your letter sooner, had it not been that\nI wished to make myself tolerably well acquainted with the surrounding\nscenery before writing to you, and really the heat has been so\noverwhelming that I have been impelled to take matters leisurely, and\nhave not even yet been able to get through so much _view-hunting_ as I\nshould have wished. What I have seen I will endeavour to describe to\nyou. This place itself is most delightful, and the country about it is\nmagnificent. But this, as a reviewer would say, _by way of\nanticipation_. Have patience, and in the meantime let me take events in\ntheir natural order, and begin by telling you I sailed from Leith on\nthe morning of the second of this month, with no wind at all. We\ndrifted on, I know not how, and toward evening were within gunshot of\nInchkeith; on the following morning we were in sight of the Bass, and\nin sight of the same we continued during the whole day. For the next\ntwo or three days we went beating up against a head-wind, which forced\nus to tack so much that whenever we made one mile we travelled ten, a\npleasant mode of progressing, is it not? However, I had the whole ship\nto myself, and plenty of female society in the person of the captain's\nlady, who, being fond of pleasure, had chosen to diversify her\nmonotonous existence at Leith by taking a delightful summer trip to\nRotterdam, which confined her to her crib during almost the whole of\nour passage under the pressure of racking headaches and roaring\nsickness. She had a weary time of it, poor woman, and nothing could do\nher any good--neither spelding, cheese, nor finnan haddies, nor bacon,\nnor broth, nor salt beef, nor ale, nor gin, nor brandy and water, nor\nEpsom salts, though of one or other of these she was _aye takin'_ a wee\nbit, or a little drop. We were nearly a week in clearing our own Firth,\nand did no good till we got as far as Scarborough. At this place I had\nserious intentions of getting ashore if possible, and making out the\nrest of my journey by means that were more to be depended on. Just in\nthe nick of time, however, a fair wind sprang up, and from Scarborough\nwe had a capital run, with little or no interruption, to the end of our\nvoyage.' An account of a ten days' voyage which makes us thankful to be\nin great measure independent of the winds at sea! Holland, our\ntraveller thinks an intolerable country to live in, and the first\nimpressions of the Rhine are distinctly unfavourable. 'The river\nhimself is a fine fellow, certainly, but the country through which he\nflows is stale, flat, though I believe, not unprofitable. The banks on\neither side are covered either with reeds or with a matting of rank\nshrubbery formed apparently out of dirty green worsted, and the\ncontinuance of it so palls upon the senses that the mind at last\nbecomes unconscious of everything except the constant flap-flapping of\nthe weary paddles as they go beating on, awakening the dull echoes of\nthe sedgy shores. The eye is occasionally relieved by patches of naked\nsand, and now and then a stone about the size of your fist, diversifies\nthe monotony of the scene. Occasionally, in the distance, are to be\nseen funny, forlorn-looking objects, trying evidently to look like\ntrees, but whether they would really turn out to be trees on a nearer\ninspection is what I very much doubt.' At Cologne he had an amusing\nmeeting with an Englishman, 'whom I at once twigged to be an Oxford\nman, and more, even, an Oxford tutor. There is a stiff twitch in the\nright shoulder of the tribe, answering to a similar one in the hip-bone\non the same side, which there is no mistaking.' The tutor appears to\nhave done valiant service in making known the traveller's wants in\nFrench to waiters, etc., though 'he spent rather too much of his time\nin scheming how to abridge the sixpence which, \"time out of mind,\" has\nbeen the perquisite of Boots, doorkeepers, etc.' 'But,' he adds in\nexcuse, 'his name was Bull, and therefore, as the authentic epitome of\nhis countrymen, he would not fail to possess this along with the other\npeculiarities of Englishmen.' From Cologne, Ferrier went to Bonn, where\nhe had an introduction to Dr. Welsh, and then proceeded up the Rhine to\nMayence. He does not form a very high estimate of the beauty of the\nscenery. He feels 'a want of something; in fact, to my mind, there is a\nwant of everything which makes earth, wood, and water something more\nthan mere water, wood, and earth. We have here a constant and endless\nvariety of imposing objects (imposing is just the word for them), but\nthere is no variety in them, nothing but one round-backed hill after\nanother, generally carrying their woods, when they have any, very\nstiffly, and when they have none presenting to the eye a surface of\ntawdry and squalid patchwork,' thus suggesting, in his view, a series\nof children's gardens--an impression often left on travellers when\nvisiting this same country. His next letters find him settled in the\nUniversity town of Heidelberg.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nWANDERJAHRE--SOCIAL LIFE IN SCOTLAND--BEGINNING OF HIS LITERARY LIFE\n\n\nIn the present century in Germany we have seen a period of almost\nunparalleled literary glory succeeded by a time of great commercial\nprosperity and national enthusiasm. But when Ferrier visited that\ncountry in 1834 the era of its intellectual greatness had hardly passed\naway; some, at least, of its stars remained, and others had very\nrecently ceased to be. Goethe had died just two years before, but Heine\nlived till many years afterwards; amongst the philosophers, though Kant\nand Fichte, of course, were long since gone, Schelling was still at\nwork at Munich, and Hegel lived at Berlin till November of 1831, when\nhe was cut off during an epidemic of cholera. Most of the great men had\ndisappeared, and yet the memory of their achievements still survived,\nand the impetus they gave to thought could not have been lost. The\ntraditional lines of speculation consistently carried out since\nReformation days had survived war and national calamity, and it\nremained to be seen whether the greater tests of prosperity and success\nwould be as triumphantly undergone.\n\nWe can imagine Ferrier's feelings when this new world opened up before\nhim, a Scottish youth, to whom it was a new, untrodden country. It may\nbe true that it was his literary rather than his speculative affinities\nthat first attracted him to Germany. To form in literature he always\nattached the greatest value, and to the end his interest in letters was\nonly second to his attachment to philosophy. German poetry was to him\nwhat it was to so many of the youth of the country from which it\ncame--the expression of their deepest, and likewise of their freshest\naspiration. The poetry of other countries and other tongues--English\nand Latin, for example--meant much to him, but that of Germany was\nnearest to his heart. French learning did not attract him; neither its\nliterature nor its metaphysics and psychological method appealed to his\nthoughtful, analytic mind; but in Germany he found a nation which had\nnot as yet resigned its interest in things of transcendental import in\nfavour of what pertained to mere material welfare.\n\nSuch was the Germany into which Ferrier came in 1834. He did not, so\nfar as we can hear, enter deeply into its social life; he visited it as\na traveller, rather than as a student, and his stay in it was brief.\nConsidering the shortness of his time there, and the circumstances of\nhis visit, the impression that it made upon him is all the more\nremarkable, for it was an impression that lasted and was evident\nthroughout all his after life. Since his day, indeed, it would be\ndifficult to say how many young Scotsmen have been impressed in a\nsimilar way by a few months' residence at a University town in Germany.\nFor partly owing to Ferrier's own efforts, and perhaps even more owing\nto the 'boom'--to use a vulgarism--brought about by Carlyle's writings,\nand by his first making known the marvels of German literature to the\nordinary English-speaking public, who had never learned the language or\ntried to understand its recent history, the old traditional literary\nalliance between Scotland and France appeared for the time being to\nhave broken down in favour of a similar association with its rival\ncountry, Germany. The work of Goethe was at last appreciated, nothing\nwas now too favourable to say about its merits; philosophy was suddenly\ndiscovered to have its home in Germany, and there alone; our insularity\nin keeping to our antiquated methods--dryasdust, we were told, as the\nold ones of the schools, and perhaps as edifying--was vigorously\ndenounced. Theology, which had hitherto found complete support from the\nphilosophic system which acted as her handmaid, and was only tolerated\nas such, was naturally affected in like manner by the change; and to\nher credit be it said, that instead of with averted eyes looking\nelsewhere, as might easily have been done, she determined to face the\nworst, and wisely asked the question whether in her department too she\nhad not something she could learn from a sister country across the sea.\nHence a great change was brought about in the mental attitude of\nScotland; but we anticipate.\n\nFerrier, after leaving Heidelberg, paid a short visit to Leipzig, and\nthen for a few weeks took up his abode at Berlin. From Leipzig he\nwrites to Miss Wilson again: 'How do you like an _epistola_ dated from\nthis great emporium of taste and letters, this culminating point of\nGermanism, where waggons jostle philosophy, and tobacco-impregnated air\nis articulated into divinest music? It is fair-time, and I did not\narrive, as one usually does, a day _behind_ it, but on the very day it\ncommenced. It will last, I believe, some weeks, and during that time\nall business is done on the open streets, which are lined on each side\nwith large wooden booths, and are swarming with men and merchandise of\nevery description and from every quarter of the world. It very much\nresembles a _Ladies' Sale_ in the Assembly Rooms (what I never saw),\nonly the ladies here are frequently Jews with fierce beards, and have\nalways a pipe in their mouths when not eating or drinking. As you walk\nalong you will find the order of the day to be somewhat as follows. You\nfirst come to pipes, then shawls, then nails, then pipes, pipes again,\npipes, gingerbread, dolls, then pipes, bridles, spurs, pipes, books,\nwarming-pans, pipes, china, writing-desks, pipes again, pipes, pipes,\npipes, nothing but pipes--the very pen will write nothing but pipes.\nPipes, you see, decidedly carry it. I wonder they don't erect public\ntobacco-smoke works, lay _pipes_ for it along the streets, and smoke\naway--a city at a time. Private families might take it in as we do\ngas!'\n\nFerrier appears to have spent a week at Frankfort before reaching his\ndestination at Leipzig. He describes his journey there: 'At Frankfort I\nsaw nothing worthy of note except a divine statue of Ariadne riding on\na leopard. After lumbering along for two nights and two days in a\nclumsy diligence, I reached Leipzig two days ago. I thought that by the\nway I might perhaps see something worthy of mention, and accordingly\nsometimes put my head out of the window to look. But no--the trees, for\ninstance, had all to a man planted their heads in the earth, and were\ngrowing with their legs upwards, just as they do with us; and as for\nthe natives, they, on the contrary, had each of them filled a\nflower-pot, called a skull, full of earth, put their heads in it, and\nwere growing _downwards_, just as the same animal does in our country;\nand on coming to one's recollection in the morning in a German\ndiligence you find yourself surrounded by the same drowsy, idiotical,\nglazed, stained, and gummy complement of faces which might have\naccompanied you into Carlisle on an autumn morning after a night of\ntravel in His Majesty's mail coach.'\n\nBerlin impressed Ferrier by its imposing public buildings and general\naspect of prosperity. It had, of course, long before reached a position\nof importance under the great Frederick's government, though not the\nimportance or the size that it afterwards attained. Still, it was the\ncentre of attraction for all classes throughout Prussia, and possessed\na cultivated society in which the middle-class element was to all\nappearances predominant. Ferrier writes of the town: 'Of the inside of\nthe buildings and what is to be seen there I have nothing yet to say,\nbut their external aspect is most magnificent. Palaces, churches,\nmosque-like structures, spires and domes and towers all standing\ntogether, but with large spaces and fine open drives between, so that\nall are seen to the greatest possible advantage, conspire to form a\nmost glorious city. At this moment a fountain which I can see from my\nwindow is playing in the middle of the square. A _jet d'eau_ indeed!!\nIt may do very well for a Frenchman to call it that, but we must call\nit a perfect volcano of water. A huge column goes hissing up as high as\na steeple, with the speed and force of a rocket, and comes down in\nthunder, and little rainbows are flitting about in the showery spray.\nIt being Sunday, every thing and person is gayer than usual. Bands are\nplaying and soldiers are parading all through the town; everything,\nindeed, is military, and yet little is foppish--a statement which to\nEnglish ears will sound like a direct contradiction.'\n\nOur traveller had been given letters to certain Berlin Professors from\nyoung Blackie, afterwards Professor of Greek in Edinburgh University,\nwho had just translated Goethe's _Faust_ into the English tongue. 'I\nwent about half an hour ago to call upon a sort of Professor here to\nwhom I had a letter and a _Faust_ to present from Blackie--found him\nill and confined to bed--was admitted, however, very well received, and\nshall call again when I think there is a chance of his being better. I\nhave still another Professor to call on with a letter and book from\nBlackie, and there my acquaintance with the society of Berlin is likely\nto terminate.' One other introduction to Ferrier on this expedition to\nGermany is mentioned in a note from his aunt, Miss Susan Ferrier, the\nonly letter to her nephew that has apparently been preserved: whether\nor not he availed himself of the offer, history does not record. It\nruns as follows:--\n\n    'EDINR., _1st August_.\n\n    'I could not get a letter to Lord Corehouse's German sister\n    (Countess Purgstall), as it seems she is in bad health, and not fit\n    to entertain vagabonds; but I enclose a very kind one from my\n    friend, Mrs. Erskine, to the ambassadress at Munich, and if you\n    don't go there you may send it by post, as it will be welcome at\n    any time on its own account.'\n\nIt was, as has been said, only about three years previously to this\nvisit that Hegel had passed away at Berlin, and one wonders whether\nFerrier first began to interest himself in his writings at this time,\nand whether he visited the graveyard near the city gate where Hegel\nlies, close to his great predecessor Fichte. One would almost think\nthis last was so from the exact description given in his short\nbiography of Hegel; and it is significant that on his return he brought\nwith him a medallion and a photograph of the great philosopher. This\nwould seem to indicate that his thoughts were already tending in the\ndirection of Hegelian metaphysics, but how far this was so we cannot\ntell. Certainly the knowledge of the German language acquired by\nFerrier during this visit to the country proved most valuable to him,\nand enabled him to study its philosophy at a time when translations\nwere practically non-existent, and few had learned to read it. That\nknowledge must indeed have been tolerably complete, for in 1851, when\nSir Edward Bulwer (afterwards Lord Lytton) was about to republish his\ntranslation of Schiller's Ballads, he corresponded with Ferrier\nregarding the accuracy and exactness of his work. He afterwards, in the\npreface to the volume, acknowledges the great services Ferrier had\nrendered; and in dedicating the book to him, speaks of the debt of\ngratitude he owes to one whose 'critical judgment and skill in\ndetecting the finer shades of meaning in the original' had been so\nuseful. Ferrier likewise has the credit, accorded him by De Quincey, of\nhaving corrected several errors in _all_ the English translations of\n_Faust_ then extant--errors which were not merely literary\ninaccuracies, but which also detracted from the vital sense of the\noriginal. As to Lord Lytton, Ferrier must at this time have been\ninterested in his writings; for in a letter to Miss Wilson, he advises\nher to read Bulwer's _Pilgrims of the Rhine_ if she wishes for a\ndescription of the scenery, and speaks of the high esteem with which he\nwas regarded by the Germans.\n\nIt was in 1837 that Ferrier married the young lady with whom he had so\nlong corresponded. The marriage was in all respects a happy one. Mrs.\nFerrier's gifts and graces, inherited from her father, will not soon be\nforgotten, either in St. Andrews where she lived so long, or in\nEdinburgh, the later home of her widowhood. One whose spirits were less\ngay might have found a husband whose interests were so completely in\nhis work--and that a work in which she could not share--difficult to\ndeal with; but she possessed understanding to appreciate that work, as\nwell as humour, and could accommodate herself to the circumstances in\nwhich she found herself; while he, on his part, entered into the gaiety\non occasion with the best. A friend and student of the St. Andrews'\ndays writes of Ferrier: 'He married his cousin Margaret, Professor's\nWilson's daughter, and I don't doubt that a shorthand report of their\ncourtship would have been better worth reading than nine hundred and\nninety-nine out of every thousand courtships, for she had wit as well\nas beauty, and he was capable of appreciating both. No more charming\nwoman have I ever seen or heard making game of mankind in general, and\nin particular of pedants and hypocrites. She would even laugh at her\nhusband on occasion, but it was dangerous for any volunteer to try to\nhelp her in that sport. A finer-looking couple I have never seen.[5]\n\n          [5] Another sister married William Edmondstoune Aytoun, the\n          poet. It was regarding Professor Aytoun's proposal for Miss\n          Wilson's hand that the following story is told. When the\n          engagement was being formed, Aytoun somewhat demurred to\n          interviewing the father of the lady, and she herself\n          undertook the mission. Presently she returned with a card\n          pinned upon her breast bearing the satisfactory inscription,\n          'With the author's compliments'! Aytoun, as is well known,\n          was extremely plain, and it was of his bust in the\n          Blackwoods' saloon, a recognisable but idealistic likeness,\n          that Ferrier remarked, 'I should call that the pursuit of\n          beauty under difficulties.'\n\nDuring her infancy Edinburgh had become Mrs. Ferrier's home, though she\nmade frequent visits to Westmorland, of whose dialect she had a\ncomplete command. The courtship, however, had been for the most part\ncarried on at the picturesque old house of Gorton, where 'Christopher\nNorth' was temporarily residing, and which, situated as it is\noverlooking the lovely glen made immortal by the name of Hawthornden,\nin view of Roslin Chapel, and surrounded by old-fashioned walks and\ngardens, must have been an ideal spot for a romantic couple like the\nFerriers to roam in. Another friend writes of Wilson's later home at\nElleray: 'In his hospitable house, where the wits of _Blackwood_\ngathered at intervals and visited individually in season and out of\nseason, his daughter saw strange men of genius, such as few young\nladies had the fortune to see, and heard talk such as hardly another\nhas the fortune to hear. Lockhart, with his caricatures and his\nincisive sarcasm, was an intimate of the house. The Ettrick Shepherd,\nwith his plaid and homely Doric, broke in occasionally, as did also De\nQuincey, generally towards midnight, when he used to sit pouring forth\nhis finely-balanced, graceful sentences far on among the small hours of\nthe morning. There were students, too, year after year, many of them\nnot undistinguished, and some of whom had, we doubt not, ideas of their\nown regarding the flashing hazel eyes of their eloquent Professor's\neldest daughter.' But her cousin was her choice, though wealth offered\nno attraction, and neither side had reason to regret the marriage of\naffection.\n\nAt the time of his marriage Ferrier had been practising at the Bar,\nprobably with no great measure of success, seeing that his heart was\nnot really set upon his work. It was at this period that he first began\nto write, and his first contribution to literature took the form of\ncertain papers contributed to _Blackwood's Magazine_, the subject being\nthe 'Philosophy of Consciousness.' From that time onwards Ferrier\ncontinued to write on philosophic or literary topics until his death,\nand many of these writings were first published in the famous magazine.\n\nBefore entering, however, on any consideration of Ferrier's writings\nand of the philosophy of the day, it might be worth while to try to\npicture to ourselves the social conditions and feelings of the time, in\norder that we may get some idea of the influences which surrounded him,\nand be assisted in our efforts to understand his outlook.\n\nIn the beginning of the nineteenth century Scotland had been ground\ndown by a strange tyranny--the tyranny of one man as it seemed, which\nman was Henry Dundas, first Viscount Melville, who for many long years\nruled our country as few countries have been ruled before. What this\ndespotism meant it is difficult for us, a century later, to figure to\nourselves. All offices were dependent on his patronage; it was to him\nthat everyone had to look for whatever post, advancement, or concession\nwas required. And Dundas, with consummate power and administrative\nability, moulded Scotland to his will, and by his own acts made her\nwhat she was before the world. But all the while, though unperceived, a\nnew spirit was really dawning; the principles of the Revolution, in\nspite of everything, had spread, and all unobserved the time-spirit\nmade its influence felt below a surface of apparent calm. It laid hold\nfirst of all of the common people--weavers and the like: it roused\nthese rough, uneducated men to a sense of wrong and the resolution to\nseek a remedy. Not much, however, was accomplished. Some futile risings\ntook place--risings pitiable in their inadequacy--of hard-working\nweavers armed with pikes and antiquated muskets. Of course, such rebels\nwere easily suppressed; the leaders were sentenced to execution or\ntransportation, as the case might be; but though peace apparently was\nrestored and public meetings to oppose the Government were rigorously\nsuppressed, trade and manufactures were arising: Scotland was not\nreally dead, as she appeared. A new life was dawning: reform was in the\nair, and in due time made its presence felt. But the memory of these\ntimes of political oppression, when the franchise was the privilege of\nthe few, and of the few who were entirely out of sympathy with the most\npart of their countrymen or their country's wants, remained with the\npeople just as did the 'Killing-time' of Covenanting days two centuries\nbefore. Time heals the wounds of a country as of an individual, but the\noperation is slow, and it is doubtful whether either period of history\nwill ever be forgotten. At anyrate, if they are so as this century\ncloses, they were not in the Scotland known to Ferrier; they were still\na very present memory and one whose influence was keenly felt.\n\nAnd along with this political struggle yet another struggle was taking\nplace, no less real though not so evident. The religion of the country\nhad been as dead as was the politics in the century that was gone--dead\nin the sleep of Moderatism and indifferentism. But it, too, had\nawakened; the evangelical school arose, liberty of church government\nwas claimed, a liberty which, when denied it, rent the Established\nChurch in twain.\n\nIn our country it has been characteristic that great movements have\nusually begun with those most in touch with its inmost life, the\nso-called lower orders of its citizens. The nobles and the kings have\nrather followed than taken the lead. In the awakening of the present\ncentury this at anyrate was the case. 'Society,' so called, remained\nconservative in its view for long after the people had determined to\nadvance. Scott, it must be remembered, was a retrogressive influence.\nThe romanticism of his novels lent a charm to days gone by which might\nor might not be deserved; but they also encouraged their readers to\nimagine a revival of those days of chivalry as a possibility even now,\nwhen men were crying for their rights, when they had awakened to a\nsense of their possessions, and would take nothing in their place. The\nreal chieftains were no more; they were imitation chieftains only who\nwere playing at the game, and it was a game the clansmen would not join\nin. Few exercises could be more strange than first to read the account\nof Scottish life in one of the immortal novels by Scott dealing with\nlast century, and then to turn to Miss Ferrier or Galt, depicting a\nperiod not so very different. Setting aside all questions of genius,\nwhere comparison would be absurd, it would seem as if a beautiful\nenamel had been removed, and a bare reality revealed, somewhat sordid\nin comparison. The life was not really sordid,--realism as usual had\novershot its mark,--but the enamel had been somewhat thickly laid, and\nmight require to be removed, if truth were to be revealed.\n\nSo in the higher grades of Edinburgh society the enamel of gentility\nhas done its best to prejudice us against much true and genuine worth.\nIt was characterised by a certain conventional unconventionality, a\ncertain 'preciosity' which brought it near deserving a still stronger\nname, and it maintained its right to formulate the canons of criticism\nfor the kingdom. Edinburgh, it must be recollected, was no 'mean city,'\nno ordinary provincial town. It was still esteemed a metropolis. It had\nits aristocracy, though mainly of the order of those unable to bear the\ngreater expense of London life. It had no manufactories to speak of, no\nmercantile class to 'vulgarise' it; it possessed a University, and the\nlaw courts of the nation. But above all it had a literary society. In\nthe beginning of the century it had such men as Henry Mackenzie, Dugald\nStewart, John Playfair, Dr. Gregory, Dr. Thomas Brown, not to speak of\nScott and Jeffrey--a society unrivalled out of London. And in later\ndays, when these were gone, others rose to fill their places.\n\nOf course, in addition to the movement of the working people, there was\nan educated protest against Toryism, and it was made by a party who, to\ntheir credit be it said, risked their prospects of advancement for the\nprinciples of freedom. In their days Toryism, we must recollect, meant\nsomething very different from what it might be supposed to signify in\nour own. It meant an attitude of obstruction as regards all change from\nestablished standards of whatever kind; it signified a point of view\nwhich said that grievances should be unredressed unless it was in its\ninterest to redress them. The new party of opposition included in its\nnumbers Whig lawyers like Gibson Craig and Henry Erskine, in earlier\ndays, and Francis Jeffrey and Lord Cockburn later on; a party of\nprogress was also formed within the Church, and the same within the\nprecincts of the University. The movement, as became a movement on the\npolitical side largely headed by lawyers, had no tendency to violence;\nit was moderate in its policy, and by no means revolutionary--indeed it\nmay be doubted whether there ever was much tendency to revolt even\namongst those working men who expressed themselves most strongly. The\nadvance party, however, carried the day, and when Ferrier began to\nwrite, Scotland was in a very different state from that of twenty years\nbefore. The Reform Bill had passed, and men had the moulding of their\ncountry's destiny practically placed within their hands. In the\nUniversity, again, Sir William Hamilton, a Whig, had just been\nappointed to the Chair of Logic, while Moncreiff, Chalmers, and the\nrest, were prominent in the Church. The traditions of literary\nEdinburgh at the beginning of the century had been kept up by a circle\namongst whom Lockhart, Wilson, and De Quincey may be mentioned; now\nCarlyle, who had left Edinburgh not long before, was coming into\nnotice, and a new era seemed to be dawning, not so glorious as the\npast, but more untrammelled and more free.\n\nHow philosophy was affected by the change, and how Ferrier assisted in\nits progress, it is our business now to tell; but we must first briefly\nsketch the history of Scottish speculation to this date, in order to\nshow the position in which he found it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nPHILOSOPHY BEFORE FERRIER'S DAY\n\n\nIn attempting to give some idea of philosophy as it was in Scotland in\nthe earlier portion of the present century, we shall have to go back\ntwo hundred years or thereabout, in order to find a satisfactory basis\nfrom which to start. For philosophy, as no one realised more than\nFerrier, is no arbitrary succession of systems following one upon\nanother as their propounders might decree; it is a development in the\ntruest and highest significance of that word. It means the gradual\nworking out of the questions which reason sets to be answered; and\nthough it seems as if we had sometimes to turn our faces backwards, and\nto revert to systems of bygone days, we always find, when we look more\nclosely, that in our onward course we have merely dropped some thread\nin our web, the recovery of which is requisite in order that it may be\nduly taken up and woven with the rest.\n\nAt the time of which we write the so-called 'Scottish School' of Reid,\nStewart, and Beattie reigned supreme in orthodox Scotland; it had\nundisputed power in the Universities, and besides this obtained a very\nreputable place in the estimation of Europe, and more especially of\nFrance. As it was this school more especially that Ferrier spent much\nof his time in combating, it is its history and place that we wish\nshortly to describe. To do so, however, it is needful to go back to its\nreal founder, Locke, in order that its point of view may fairly be set\nforth.\n\nIn applying his mind to the views of Locke, the ordinary man finds\nhimself arriving at very commonplace and well-accustomed conceptions.\nLocke, indeed, may reasonably be said to represent the ideas of common,\neveryday life. The ordinary man does not question the reality of\nthings, he accepts it without asking any questions, and bases his\ntheories--scientific or otherwise--upon this implied reality. Locke\nworked out the theory which had been propounded by Lord Bacon, that\nknowledge is obtained by the observation of facts which are implicitly\naccepted as realities; and what, it was asked, could be more\nself-evident and sane? It is easy to conceive a number of perceiving\nminds upon the one hand, ready to take up perceptions of an outside\nmaterial substance upon the other. The mind may be considered as a\npiece of white paper--a _tabula rasa_, as it was called--on which\nexternal things may make what impression they will, and knowledge is\napparently explained at once. But though Locke certainly succeeded in\nmaking these terms the common coin of ordinary life, difficulties crop\nup when we come to examine them more closely. After all, it is evident,\nthe only knowledge our mind can have is a knowledge of its own\nideas--ideas which are, of course, caused by something which is\noutside, or at least, as Locke would say, by its _quality_. Now, from\nthis it would appear that these 'ideas' after all come between the mind\nand the 'thing,' whatever it is, that causes them--that is to say, we\ncan perhaps maintain that we only know our 'ideas,' and not things as\nin themselves. Locke passes into elaborate distinctions between primary\nqualities of things, of which he holds exact representations are given,\nand secondary qualities, which are not in the same position; but the\nwhole difficulty we meet with is summed up in the question whether we\nreally _know_ substance, or whether it is that we can only hope to know\nideas, and 'suppose' some substratum of reality outside. Then another\ndifficulty is that we can hardly really know our _selves_. How can we\nknow that the self exists; and if, like Malebranche, we speak of God\nrevealing substance to us, how do we know about God? We cannot form any\n'general' impressions, have any 'general' knowledge; only a sort of\nconglomeration of unrelated or detached bits of knowledge can possibly\ncome home to us. The fact is, that modern philosophy starts with two\nseparate and self-existent substances; that it does not see how they\ncan be combined, and that the 'white-paper' theory is so abstract that\nwe can never arrive at self-consciousness by its means.\n\nBerkeley followed out the logical consequences of Locke, though perhaps\nhe hardly knew where these would carry him. He acknowledged that we\nknow nothing but ideas--nothing outside of our mind. But he adds the\nconception of self, and by analogy the conception of God, who acts as a\nprinciple of causation. Whether there is necessary connection in his\nsensations or not, he does not say. Hume followed with criticism,\nscathing and merciless. He states that all we know of is the experience\nwe have; and by experience he signifies perceptions. Ideas to him are\nnothing more than perceptions, and whether they are ideas simply of the\nmind, or ideas of some object, is to him the same. If we begin to\nimagine such conceptions as those of universality or necessity, of God\nor the self, beyond a complex of successive ideas, we are going farther\nthan experience permits. We cannot connect our perceptions with an\nobject, nor can we get beyond what experience allows. Custom merely\nbrings about certain conclusions which are often enough misleading. It\nconnects effect and cause, really different events: it brings about\nideas of morality very often deceptive. We have our custom of regarding\nthings, another has his--who can say which is correct? All we can do\nis, what seems a hopeless task enough--we can try to show how these\nunrelated particulars seem by repetition to produce an illusionary\nconnection in our minds.\n\nBoth mind and matter appear, then, to be wanting, and experience alone\nis suggested as the means of solving the difficulty in which we are\nplaced--a point in the argument which left an opportunity open to Kant\nto suggest a new development, to ask whether things being found\ninadequate in producing knowledge, we might not ask if knowledge could\nnot be more successful with things. But it is the Scottish lines of\nattempted solution that we wish to follow out, and not the German.\nPerhaps they are not so very different.\n\nPhilosophy, as Reid found it, was in a bad way enough, as far as the\northodox mind of Scotland was concerned. All justification for belief\nin God, in immortality, in all that was held sacred in a century of\nmuch orthodoxy if little zeal, was gone. Such things might be believed\nin by those who found any comfort in so believing, but to the educated\nman who had seriously reflected on them, they were anachronisms. The\nvery desperateness of the case, however, seemed to promise a remedy.\nMen could not rest in a state of permanent scepticism, in a world\nutterly incapable of being rationally explained. Even the propounder of\nthe theories allowed this to be true; and as for others, they felt that\nthey were rational beings, and this signified that there was system in\nthe world.\n\nA champion arose when things were at their worst in Thomas Reid, the\nfounder, or at least the chiefest ornament, of the so-called Scottish\nSchool of Philosophy. He it was who set himself to add the principle of\nthe coherence of the Universe, and the consequent possibility of\nestablishing Faith once more in the world. Reid, to begin with, instead\nof looking at Hume's results as serious, regarded them as necessarily\nabsurd. He started a new theory of his own, the theory of Immediate\nPerception, which signified that we are able immediately to\napprehend--not ideas only, but the Truth. And how, we may ask, can this\nbe done?\n\nIt had been pointed out first of all that sensations as understood by\nLocke--that is, the relations so called by Locke--might be separated\nfrom sensation in itself; in fact, that these first pertained to mind.\nHence we have a dualistic system given us to start with, and the\nquestion is how the two sides are to be connected? What does this\ntheory of Immediate Perception, which Reid puts forward as the\nsolution, mean? Is it just a mechanical union of two antitheses, or is\nit something more?\n\nAs to this last, perhaps the real answer would be that it both is, and\nis not. That is, the philosophy of Reid would seem still dualistic in\nits nature; it certainly implies the mechanical contact of two\nconfronting substances whose independence is vigorously maintained, in\nopposition to the idealistic system which it superseded; but in\nreference to Reid we must recollect that his theory of Immediate\nPerception was also something more. As regards sensation, for example,\nhe says that we do not begin with unrelated sensations, but with\njudgment--that is, we refer our sensations to a permanent subject, 'I.'\nSensations 'suggest' the nature of a mind and the belief in its\nexistence. And this signifies that we have the power of making\ninferences--how we do not exactly know, but we believe it to be, not by\nany special reasoning process, but by the 'common-sense' innately born\nwithin us. Common-sense is responsible for a good deal more--for the\nconceptions of existence and of cause, for instance; for Reid\nacknowledges that sensations alone must fail to account for ideas such\nas those of extension, space, and motion. This standpoint seems indeed\nas if it did not differ widely from the Kantian, but at the same time\nReid appears to think that it is not an essential that feelings should\nbe perceptively referred to an external object; the first part of the\nprocess of perception is carried on without our consciousness--the\nmental sensation merely follows--and sensation simply supposes a\nsentient being and a certain manner in which that being is affected,\nwhich leaves us much where we were, as far as the subjectivity of our\nideas is concerned. He does not hold that all sensation is a percept\ninvolving extension and much else--involving, indeed, existence.\n\nFollowing upon Reid, Dugald Stewart obtained a very considerable\nreputation, and he was living and writing at the time Ferrier was a\nyoung man. His main idea would, however, seem to have been to guard his\nutterances carefully, and enter upon no keen discussions or\ncontentions: when a bold assertion is made, it is always under shelter\nof some good authority. But his rounded phrases gained him considerable\nadmiration, as such writing often does. He carried--perhaps\ninadvertently--Reid's views farther than he would probably have held as\njustifiable. He says we are not, properly speaking, conscious of self\nor the existence of self, but merely of a sensation or some other\nquality, which, by a _subsequent suggestion_ of the understanding,\nleads to a belief in that which exercises the quality. This is the\ndoctrine of Reid put very crudely, and in a manner calculated to bring\nus back to unrelated sensation in earnest. Stewart adopted a new\nexpression for Reid's 'common-sense,' _i.e._ the 'fundamental laws of\nbelief,' which might be less ambiguous, but never took popular hold as\ndid the first.\n\nThere were many others belonging to this school besides Reid and\nStewart, whom it would be impossible to speak of here. The Scottish\nPhilosophy had its work to do, and no doubt understood that work--the\nfirst essential in a criticism: it endeavoured to vindicate perception\nas against sensational idealism, and it only partially succeeded in its\ntask. But we must be careful not to forget that it opened up the way\nfor a more comprehensive and satisfactory point of view. It was with\nKant that the distinction arose between sensation and the forms\nnecessary to its perception, the form of space and time, and so on. As\nto this part of the theory of knowledge, Reid and his school were not\nclear; they only made an effort to express the fact that something was\nrequired to verify our knowledge, but they were far from satisfactorily\nattaining to their goal. The very name of 'common-sense' was\nmisleading--making people imagine, as it did, that there was nothing in\nphilosophy after all that the man in the street could not know by\napplying the smallest modicum of reflection to the subject. Philosophy\nthus came to be considered as superfluous, and it was thought that the\nsooner we got rid of it and were content to observe the mandates of our\nhearts, the better for all concerned.\n\nWhat, then, was the work which Ferrier placed before himself when he\ncommenced to write upon and teach philosophy? He was thoroughly and\nentirely dissatisfied with the old point of view, the point of view of\nthe 'common-sense' school of metaphysicians, to begin with. Sometimes\nit seems as though we could not judge a system altogether from the best\nexponent of it, although theoretically we are always bound to turn to\nhim. In a national philosophy, at least, we want something that will\nwear, that will bear to be put in ordinary language, something which\ncan be understood of the people, which can be assimilated with the\npopular religion and politics--in fact, which can really be _lived_ as\nwell as thought; and it is only after many years of use that we can\nreally tell whether these conditions have been fulfilled. For this\nreason we are in some measure justified in taking the popular estimate\nof a system, and in considering its practical results as well as the\nvalue of its theory. Now, the commonly accepted view of the\neighteenth-century philosophers in Scotland is that there is nothing\nvery wonderful about the subject--like the _Bourgeois Gentilhomme_ of\nMoli\u00e8re, we are shown that we have been philosophising all our lives,\nonly we never knew it. 'Common-sense'--an attribute with which we all\nbelieve we are in some small measure endowed--explains everything if we\nsimply exercise it, and that is open to us all: there has been much\ntalk, it would seem, about nothing; secrets hidden to wise men are\nrevealed to babes, and we have but to keep our minds open in order to\nreceive them.\n\nWe are all acquainted with this talk in speculative regions of\nknowledge, but we most of us also know how disastrous it is to any true\nadvancement in such directions. What happens now is just what happened\nin the eighteenth century. Men relapse into a self-satisfied indolence\nof mind: in religion they are content with believing in a sort of\ngeneral divine Beneficence which will somehow make matters straight,\nhowever crooked they may seem to be; and in philosophy they are guided\nby their instincts, which teach them that what they wish to believe is\ntrue.\n\nNow, all this is what Ferrier and the modern movement, largely\ninfluenced by German modes of thought, wish to protest against with all\ntheir might. The scepticism of Hume and Gibbon was logical, if utterly\nimpossible as a working creed and necessarily ending in absurdity; but\nthis irrational kind of optimism was altogether repugnant to those who\ndemanded a reasonable explanation of themselves and of their place in\nnature. The question had become summed up in one of superlative\nimportance, namely, the distinction that existed between the natural\nand supernatural sides of our existence. The materialistic school had\npractically done away with the latter in its entirety, had said that\nnature is capable of being explained by mechanical means, and that\nthese must necessarily suffice for us. But the orthodox section adopted\nother lines; it accepted all the ordinarily received ideas of God,\nimmortality, and the like, but it maintained the existence of an\nAbsolute which can only be inferred, but not presented to the mind,\nand, strangest of all, declared that the 'last and highest consecration\nof all true religion must be an altar \"To the unknown and unknowable\nGod.\"'[6] This so-called 'pious' philosophy declares that 'To think\nthat God is, as we can think Him to be, is blasphemy,' and 'A God\nunderstood would be no God at all.' The German philosophy saw that if\nonce we are to renounce our reason, or trust to it only within a\ncertain sphere, all hope for us is lost, as far as withstanding the\nattack of outside enemies is concerned. We are liable to sceptical\nattacks from every side, and all we can maintain against them is a\npersonal conviction which is not proof. How, then, was the difficulty\nmet?\n\n          [6] _Philosophy of the Unconditioned_ (Sir William\n          Hamilton), p. 15.\n\nKant, as we have said, made an important development upon the position\nof Hume. Hume had arrived at the point of declaring the particular mind\nand matter equally incompetent to afford an ultimate explanation of\nthings, and he suggested experience in their place. This is the first\nnote of the new philosophy: experience, not a process of the\ninteraction of two separate things, mind on the one hand, matter on the\nother, but something comprehending both. This, however, was scarcely\nrealised either by Hume or Kant, though the latter came very near the\nformulation of it. Kant saw, at least, that things could not produce\nknowledge, and he therefore changed his front and suggested starting\nwith the knowledge that was before regarded as result--a change in\npoint of view that caused a revolution in thought similar to that\ncaused in our ideas of the natural world by the introduction of the\nsystem of Copernicus. Still, while following out his Copernican theory,\nKant did not go far enough. His methods were still somewhat\npsychological in nature. He still regarded thought as something which\ncan be separated from the thinker; he still maintained the existence of\nthings in themselves independent and outside of thought. He gives us a\n'theory' of knowledge, when what we want to reach is knowledge itself,\nand not a subjective conception of it.\n\nHere it is that the Absolute Idealism comes in--the Idealism most\nassociated with the name of Hegel. Hegel takes experience, knowledge,\nor thought, in another and much more comprehensive fashion than did his\npredecessors. Knowledge, in fact, is all-comprehending; it embraces\nboth sides in itself, and explains them as 'moments,' _i.e._\ncomplementary factors in the one Reality. To make this clearer: we have\nbeen all along taking knowledge as a dualistic process, as having two\nsides involved in it, a subject and an object. Now, Hegel says our\nmistake is this: we cannot make a separation of such a kind except by a\nprocess of abstraction: the one really implies the other, and could not\npossibly exist without it. We may in our ordinary pursuits do so,\nwithout doubt; we may concentrate our attention on one side or the\nother, as the case may be; we may look at the world as if it could be\nexplained by mechanical means, as, indeed, to a certain point it can.\nBut, Hegel says, these explanations are not sufficient; they can easily\nbe shown to be untrue, when driven far enough: the world is something\nlarger; it has the ideal side as well as the real, and, as we are\nplaced, they are both necessarily there, and must both be recognised,\nif we are to attain to true conceptions.\n\nWithout saying that Ferrier wholly assimilated the modern German\nview,--for of course he did not,--he was clearly largely influenced by\nit, more largely perhaps than he was even himself aware. It\nparticularly met the present difficulties with which he was confronted.\nThe negative attitude was felt to be impossible, and the other, the\nBelief which then, as now, was so strongly advocated, the Belief which\nmeant a more or less blind acceptance of a spiritual power beyond our\nown, the Belief in the God we cannot know and glory in not being able\nso to know, he felt to be an equal impossibility. Ferrier, and many\nothers, asked the question, Are these alternatives exhaustive? Can we\nnot have a rational explanation of the world and of ourselves? Can we\nnot, that is, attain to freedom? The new point of view seemed in some\nmeasure to meet the difficulty, and therefore it was looked to with\nhope and anticipation even although its bearing was not at first\nentirely comprehended. Ferrier was one of those who perceived the\nmomentous consequences which such a change of front would cause, and he\nset himself to work it out as best he could. In an interesting paper\nwhich he writes on 'The Philosophy of Common-Sense,' with special\nreference to Sir William Hamilton's edition of the works of Dr. Reid,\nwe see in what way his opinions had developed.\n\nThe point which Ferrier made the real crux of the whole question of\nphilosophy was the distinction which exists between the ordinary\npsychological doctrine of perception and the metaphysical. The former\ndrew a distinction between the perceiving mind and matter, and based\nits reasonings on the assumed modification of our minds brought about\nby matter regarded as self-existent, _i.e._ existent in itself and\nwithout regard to any perceiving mind. Now, Ferrier points out that\nthis system of 'representationalism,' of representative ideas,\nnecessarily leads to scepticism; for who can tell us more, than that we\nhave certain ideas--that is, how can it be known that the real matter\nsupposed to cause them has any part at all in the process? Scepticism,\nas we saw before, has the way opened up for it, and it doubts the\nexistence of matter, seeing that it has been given no reasonable\ngrounds for belief in it, while Idealism boldly denies its\ninstrumentality and existence. What then, he asks, of Dr. Reid and his\nSchool of Common-Sense? Reid cannot say that matter is known in\nconsciousness, but what he does say is that something innately born\nwithin us forces us to believe in its existence. But then, as Ferrier\npertinently points out, scepticism and idealism do not merely doubt and\ndeny the existence of a self-existent matter as an object of\nconsciousness, but also because it is no object of belief. And what has\nReid to show for his beliefs? Nothing but his word. We must all,\nFerrier says, be sceptics or idealists; we are all forced on to deny\nthat matter in any form exists, for it is only self-existent matter\nthat we recognise as psychologists. Stewart tries to reinstate it by an\nappeal to 'direct observation,' an appeal which, Ferrier truly says, is\nmanifestly absurd; reasoning is useless, and we must, it would appear,\nallow any efforts we might make towards rectifying our position to be\nrecognised as futile.\n\nBut now, Ferrier says, the metaphysical solution of the problem comes\nin. We are in an _impasse_, it would appear; the analysis of the given\nfact is found impossible. But the failure of psychology opens up the\nway to metaphysic. 'The turning-round of thought from psychology to\nmetaphysic is the true interpretation of the Platonic conversion of the\nsoul from ignorance to knowledge, from mere opinion to certainty and\nsatisfaction; in other words, from a discipline in which the thinking\nis only _apparent_, to a discipline in which the thinking is _real_.'\n'The difference is as great between \"the science of the human mind\" and\nmetaphysic, as it is between the Ptolemaic and the Copernican\nastronomy, and it is very much of the same kind.' It is not that\nmetaphysic proposes to do _more_ than psychology; it aims at nothing\nbut what it can fully overtake, and does not propose to carry a man\nfarther than his tether extends, or the surroundings in which he finds\nhimself. Metaphysic in the hands of all true astronomers of thought,\nfrom Plato to Hegel, if it accomplishes more, attempts less.\n\nMetaphysic, Ferrier says, demands the whole given fact, and that fact\nis summed up in this: 'We apprehend the perception of an object,' and\nnothing short of this suffices--that is, not the perception of matter,\nbut our apprehension of that perception, or what we before called\nknowledge, ultimate knowledge in its widest sense. And this given fact\nis unlike the mere perception of matter, for it is capable of analysis\nand is not simply subjective and egoistic. Psychology recognises\nperception on the one hand (subjective), and matter on the other\n(objective), but metaphysic says the distinction ought to be drawn\nbetween 'our apprehension' and 'the perception-of-matter,' the latter\nbeing one fact and indivisible, and on no account to be taken as two\nseparate facts or thoughts. The whole point is, that by no possible\nmeans can the perception-of-matter be divided into two facts or\nexistences, as was done by psychology. And Ferrier goes on to point out\nthat this is not a subjective idealism, it is not a condition of the\nhuman soul alone, but it 'dwells apart, a mighty and independent\nsystem, a city fitted up and upheld by the living God.' And in\nauthenticating this last belief Ferrier calls in internal convictions,\n'common-sense,' to assist the evidence of speculative reason, where,\nhad he followed more upon the lines of the great German Idealists, he\nmight have done without it.\n\nNow, Ferrier continues, we are safe against the cavils of scepticism;\nthe metaphysical theory of perception steers clear of all the\nperplexities of representationalism; for it gives us in perception one\nonly object, the perception of matter; the objectivity of this _datum_\nkeeps us clear from subjective idealism.\n\nFrom the perception of matter, a fact in which man merely participates,\nFerrier infers a Divine mind, of which perceptions are the property:\nthey are states of the everlasting intellect. The exercise of the\nsenses is the condition upon which we are permitted to apprehend or\nparticipate in the objective perception of material things. This,\nshortly, is the position from which he starts.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n'FIERCE WARRES AND FAITHFUL LOVES'\n\n\n'If Ferrier's life should be written hereafter,' said one, who knew and\nvalued him, just after his death,[7] 'let his biographer take for its\nmotto these five words from the _Faery Queen_ which the biographer of\nthe Napiers has so happily chosen.' Ferrier's life was not, what it\nperhaps seems, looking back on its comparatively uneventful course,\nconsistently calm and placid,--a life such as is commonly supposed to\nbefit those who soar into lofty speculative heights, and find the\n'difficult air' in which they dwell suited to their contemplative\ntemperaments. Ferrier was intrepid and daring in his reasoning; a sort\nof free lance, Dr. Skelton says he was considered in orthodox\nphilosophical circles; a High Tory in politics, yet one who did not\nhesitate to probe to the bottom the questions which came before him,\neven though the task meant changing the whole attitude of mind from\nwhich he started. And once sure of his point, Ferrier never hesitated\nopenly to declare it. What he hated most of all was 'laborious dulness\nand consecrated feebleness'; commonplace orthodoxy was repugnant to him\nin the extreme, and possibly few things gave him more sincere pleasure\nthan violently to combat it. The fighting instinct is proper to most\nmen who have 'stuff' in them, and Ferrier in spite of his slight and\ndelicately made frame was manly to the core. But, as the same writer\nsays, 'though combative over his books and theories, his nature was\nsingularly pure, affectionate, and tolerant. He loved his friends even\nbetter than he hated his foes. His prejudices were invincible; but,\napart from his prejudices, his mind was open and receptive--prepared to\nwelcome truth from whatever quarter it came.' Such a keen, eager nature\nwas sure to be in the fray if battle had to be fought, and we think\nnone the worse of him for that. Battles of intellect are not less keen\nthan battles of physical strength, and much more daring and subtlety\nmay be called into play in the fighting of them; and Ferrier, refined,\nsensitive, fastidious, as he was, had his battles to fight, and fought\nthem with an eagerness and zeal almost too great for the object he had\nin view.\n\n          [7] The late Sir John Skelton, K.C.B.\n\nAfter his marriage in 1837, Ferrier devoted his attention almost\nentirely to the philosophy he loved so well. He did not succeed--did\nnot perhaps try to succeed--at the Bar, to which he had been called.\nMany qualities are required by a successful advocate besides the subtle\nmind and acute reasoning powers which Ferrier undoubtedly possessed:\npossibly--we might almost say probably--these could have been\ncultivated had he made the effort. He had, to begin with, a fair junior\ncounsel's practice, owing to his family connections, and this might\nhave been easily developed; his ambition, however, did not soar in the\ndirection of the law courts, and he did not give that whole-hearted\ndevotion to the subject which is requisite if success is to follow the\nefforts of the novice. But if he was not attracted by the work at the\nParliament House, he was attracted elsewhere; and to his first\nmistress, Philosophy, none could be more faithful. In other lines, it\nis true, he read much and deeply: literature in its widest sense\nattracted him as it would attract any educated man. Poetry, above all,\nhe loved, in spite of the tale sometimes told against him, that he\ngravely proposed turning _In Memoriam_ into prose in order to ascertain\nlogically 'whether its merits were sustained by reason as well as by\nrhyme'--a proposition which is said greatly to have entertained its\nauthor, when related to him by a mutual friend. Works of imagination he\ndelighted in--all spheres of literature appealed to him; he had the\nsense of form which is denied to many of his craft; he wrote in a style\nat once brilliant and clear, and carelessness on this score in some of\nthe writings of his countrymen irritated him, as those sensitive to\nsuch things are irritated. He has often been spoken of as a living\nprotest against the materialism of the age, working away in the quiet,\nregardless of the busy throng, without its ambitions and its cares.\nSometimes, of course, he temporarily deserted the work he loved the\nbest for regions less remote; sometimes he consented to lecture on\npurely literary topics, and often he wrote biographies for a\ndictionary, or articles or reviews for _Blackwood's Edinburgh\nMagazine_. As it was to this serial that Ferrier made his most\nimportant contributions, both philosophic and literary, for the next\nfifteen years, and as it was in its pages that the development of his\nsystem may be traced, a few words about its history may not be out of\nplace, although it is a history with which we have every reason to be\nfamiliar now.\n\nAbout 1816 the _Edinburgh Review_ reigned supreme in literature. What\nwas most strange, however, was that the Conservative party, so strong\nin politics, had no literary organ of their own--and this at a time\nwhen the line of demarcation between the rival sides in politics was so\nfixed that no virtue could be recognised in an opponent or in an\nopponent's views, even though they were held regarding matters quite\nremote from politics. The Whig party, though in a minority politically\nand socially, represented a minority of tremendous power, and possessed\nlatent capabilities which soon broke forth into action. At this time,\nfor instance, they had literary ability of a singularly marked\ndescription; they were not bound down by traditions as were their\nopponents, and were consequently much more free to strike out lines of\ntheir own, always of course under the guidance of that past-master in\ncriticism, Francis Jeffrey. Although his words were received as\noracular by his friends, this dictatorship in matters of literary taste\nwas naturally extremely distasteful to those who differed from him,\nespecially as the influence it exerted was not a local or national\ninfluence alone, but one which affected the opinion of the whole United\nKingdom. For a time, no doubt, the party was so strong that the matter\nwas not taken as serious, but it soon became evident that a strenuous\neffort must be made if affairs were to be placed on a better footing,\nand if a protest were to be raised against the cynical criticism in\nwhich the Reviewers indulged. Consequently, in April 1817, a literary\nperiodical called the _Edinburgh Monthly Magazine_ was started by two\ngentlemen of some experience in literary matters, with the assistance\nof Mr. William Blackwood, an enterprising Edinburgh publisher, whose\nreputation had grown of recent years to considerable dimensions. This\nmagazine was not a great success: the editors and publisher did not\nagree, and finally Mr. Blackwood purchased the formers' share in it,\ntook over the magazine himself, and, to make matters clear, gave it his\nname; thus in October of the same year the first number of _Blackwood's\nEdinburgh Magazine_ appeared. From a quiet and unobtrusive 'Miscellany'\nthe magazine developed into a strongly partisan periodical, with a\nbrilliant array of young contributors, determined to oppose the\n_Edinburgh Review_ r\u00e9gime with all its might, and not afraid to speak\nits mind respecting the literary gods of the day. Every month some one\ncame under the lash; Coleridge, Leigh Hunt, and many others were dealt\nwith in terms unmeasured in their severity, and in the very first\nnumber appeared the famous 'Chaldee Manuscript' which made the hair of\nEdinburgh society stand on end with horror. In spite of the immoderate\nexpression of its opinions, the magazine flourished--it was fresh and\nnovel, and much genius was enlisted in writing for its pages. The\neditor's identity was always matter for conjecture; but though the\ncontributors included a number of distinguished men, such as Mackenzie,\nDe Quincey, Hogg, Fraser Tytler, and Jameson, there were two names\nwhich were always associated with the periodical--those of John Gibson\nLockhart and Ferrier's uncle and father-in-law, John Wilson. The latter\nin particular was often held to be the real editor whom everyone was so\nanxious to discover, but this belief has been emphatically denied.\nAlthough the management might appear to be in the control of a\ntriumvirate, Blackwood himself kept the supreme power in his hands,\nwhatever he might at times find it politic to lead outsiders to infer.\n\nWhen Ferrier began to write for it in 1838, _Blackwood's Magazine_ was\nnot of course the same fiery publication of twenty years before; nor\nwere Ferrier's articles for the most part of a nature such as to appeal\nstrongly to an excitable and partisan public. Things had changed much\nsince 1817: the Reform Bill had passed; the politics of the country\nwere very different; the Toryism of Ferrier and his friends was quite\nunlike the Toryism of the early part of the century: it more resembled\nthe Conservatism or Traditionalism of a yet later date, which objected\nto violent changes only owing to their violence, and by no means to\nreform, if gradually carried out. This policy was reflected in _Maga's_\npages, to which Ferrier would naturally turn when he wished to reach\nthe public ear, both from family association and hereditary politics.\nHis first contribution was certainly not light in character; nor did it\nresemble the 'bright, racy' articles which are supposed to be the\nrequisite for modern serial publications. The subject was 'An\nIntroduction to the Philosophy of Consciousness,' and it consisted of a\nseries of papers contributed during two successive years (1838 and\n1839), which really embodied the result of the work in which Ferrier\nhad during the past few years been engaged, and signified a complete\ndivergence from the accepted manner of regarding consciousness, and a\nprotest against the 'faith-philosophy' which it became Ferrier's\nspecial mission to combat. Perhaps it is only in Scotland that a public\ncould be found sufficiently interested in speculative questions to make\nthem the subject of interest to a fairly wide and general circle, such\nas would be likely to peruse the pages of a monthly magazine like\nBlackwood's. But of this interesting contribution to metaphysical\nspeculation, in which Ferrier commenced his philosophical career by\ngrappling with the deepest and most fundamental questions in a manner,\nas Hamilton acknowledges, hitherto unattempted in the humbler\nspeculations of this country, we shall speak later on, as also of his\nfurther contributions to the magazine.\n\nIn the year 1821, Sir William Hamilton had been a candidate for the\nChair of Moral Philosophy along with John Wilson, Ferrier's future\nfather-in-law. In spite of Wilson's literary gifts, there is probably\nno question that of the two his opponent was best qualified to teach\nthe subject, owing to the greatness of his philosophical attainments\nand the profundity of his learning. But in the temper of the time the\nmerits of the candidates could not be calmly weighed by the Town\nCouncil, the electing body; and Hamilton was a Whig, and a Whig\ncontributor to that atheistical and Jacobin _Edinburgh Review_, and was\ntherefore on no account to be elected. The disappointment to Hamilton\nwas great; but it was slightly salved by his subsequent election--to\ntheir credit be it said, for Whig principles were far from popular\namong them--by the Faculty of Advocates to a chair rendered vacant in\n1821 by the resignation of Professor Fraser Tytler--the Chair of Civil\nHistory. In 1836, however, Sir William's merits at length received\ntheir reward, and he became the Professor of Logic and Metaphysics.\nWhen Ferrier probably felt the need of some more lucrative form of\nemployment, he applied for the Chair of History once occupied by\nHamilton, and rendered vacant by the resignation of Professor Skene; he\nobtained the appointment in 1842, and held it for four years\nsubsequently. Large remuneration it certainly did not bring with it,\nbut the duties were comparatively and correspondingly light.[8] Indeed,\nas attendance was not required of students studying for the degrees in\nArts, or for any of the professions, the difficulty was to form a\nregular class at all. The salary paid to Sir William was \u00a3100 a year,\nand even this small sum was apparently only to be obtained with\ndifficulty. The main advantage of holding the chair at all was the\nprospect it held out of succeeding later on to some more important\noffice. Of Ferrier's class-work at this time we know but little. The\nreading requisite for the post was likely to prove useful in later\ndays, and could not have been uncongenial; but probably in a class\nsometimes formed--if tradition speak aright--of one solitary student,\nthe work of preparation would not be taken very seriously. Anyhow,\nthere was plenty of time left to pursue his philosophic studies; and in\n1844-45, when Sir William Hamilton came so near to death, Ferrier acted\nas his substitute, and carried on his classes with zeal and with\nsuccess--a success which was warmly acknowledged by the Professor. Of\ncourse, though he conducted the examinations and other class-work,\nFerrier merely read the lectures written by Hamilton; else there might,\none would fancy, be found to be a lack of continuity between the\ndeliverances of the two staunch friends but uncompromising opponents.\nAny differences of opinion made, however, no difference in their\nfriendship. The distress of Ferrier on his friend's sudden paralytic\nseizure has already been described; to his affectionate nature it was\nno small thing that one for whom he had so deep a regard came so very\nnear death's door. Every Sunday while in Edinburgh, he spent the\nafternoon in walking with his friend and in talking of the subjects\nwhich most interested both.\n\n          [8] There was a movement amongst the students to secure the\n          chair for Thomas Carlyle, then coming into fame amongst\n          them; but Ferrier was chosen by the patrons, the Faculty of\n          Advocates.\n\nOf these early days Professor Fraser writes:--'My personal intercourse\nwith Ferrier was very infrequent, but very delightful when it did\noccur. He was surely the most picturesque figure among the Scottish\nphilosophers--easy, graceful, humorous, eminently subtle, and with a\nfine literary faculty--qualities not conspicuous in most of them. When\nI was a private member of Sir W. Hamilton's advanced class in\nmetaphysics in 1838-39, and for some years after, I was often at Sir\nWilliam's house, and Ferrier was sometimes of the party on these\noccasions. I remember his kindly familiarity with us students, the\ninterest and sympathy with which he entered into metaphysical\ndiscussion, his help and co-operation in a metaphysical society which\nwe were endeavouring to organise. His essays on the Philosophy of\nConsciousness were then being issued in _Blackwood_, and were felt to\nopen questions strange at a time when speculation was almost dead in\nScotland--Reid at a discount, Brown found empty, and Hamilton, with\nKant, only struggling into ascendency.\n\n'In these days, if I remember right, Ferrier lived in Carlton Street,\nStockbridge--an advocate whose interest was all in letters and\nphilosophy, a student of simple habits, fond of German, not a\nconspicuous talker, of easy polished manners and fond of a joke, with a\nscientific interest in all sorts of facts and their meanings, and\nperhaps a disposition to paradox. I remember the interest he took in\nphenomena of \"mesmeric sleep,\" as it was called. An eminent student was\nsometimes induced for experiment to submit himself to mesmeric\ninfluence at these now far-off evening gatherings at Sir William's. To\nFerrier the phenomena suggested curious speculation, but I think\nwithout scientific result.' The subject was one on which Ferrier\nafterwards wrote in _Blackwood_, and it was a subject which always had\nthe deepest interest for him. It, however, as he believed, cost him the\nfriendship of Professor Cairns, a frequent subject at these informal\ns\u00e9ances, and one whom Ferrier rashly twitted for what he evidently\nregarded as a weakness, his easily accomplished subjection to the\napplication of mesmeric power.\n\nIn 1845 the Chair of Moral Philosophy in the University of St. Andrews,\nthen occupied by Dr. Cook, and once held by Dr. Chalmers, became vacant\nby the former's death, and Ferrier entered as a candidate. Highly\nrecommended as he was by Hamilton and others, Ferrier was the\nsuccessful applicant, and St. Andrews became his home for nineteen\nyears thereafter, or until his death in 1864.\n\nSuch is a bald statement of the facts of what would seem a singularly\nuneventful life. Life divided between the study, library, and\nclassroom, there was little room for incident outside the ordinary\nincidents of domestic and academic routine. Yet Ferrier never sank into\nthe conventionality which life in a small University town might induce.\nHis interests were always fresh; he was constantly engaged in writing\nand rewriting his lectures, which, unlike some of his calling, he was\nnot content to read and re-read from year to year unaltered. His\nthoughts were constantly on his subject and on his students, planning\nhow best to communicate to them the knowledge that he was endeavouring\nto convey--a life which came as near the ideal of philosophic devotion\nas is perhaps possible in this nineteenth century of turmoil and\nunrest. Still, gentleman and man of culture as he was, Ferrier had a\nfighting side as well, and that side was once or twice aroused in all\nthe vehemence of its native strength.\n\nTwice Ferrier made application for a philosophical chair in the town of\nhis birth and boyhood. In 1852, when his father-in-law, John Wilson,\nretired, he became a candidate for the professorship of Moral\nPhilosophy in the University of Edinburgh; and then again, in 1856, he\noffered himself as a successor to Sir William Hamilton as Professor of\nLogic and Metaphysics. On neither occasion was he successful, and on\nboth occasions he suffered much from calumnious statements respecting\nhis 'German' and unorthodox views--a kind of calumny which is more than\nlikely to arise and carry weight when the judges are men of honourable\ncharacter but of little education, men to whom a shibboleth is\neverything and real progress in learning nothing. On the first occasion\nthere were several candidates who submitted their applications, but on\nProfessor M'Cosh's retiring from the combat, the two who were 'in the\nrunning' were Professor Ferrier of St. Andrews and Professor Macdougall\nof the Free Church College in Edinburgh. It is curious, as instancing\nthe strange change which had come over the politics of Scotland since\nthe Reform Act had passed, that the very influences that told in favour\nof John Wilson in applying for a professorship in 1821 should thirty\nyears later tell as strongly against his son-in-law. In 1852, nine\nyears after the Disruption, so greatly had matters altered, that the\nFree Church liberal party carried all before it in the Corporation. And\nalthough the liberal journals of the earlier date were never tired of\nmaintaining liberty of thought and action, yet when circumstances\nchanged, the liberty appeared in a somewhat different light; and the\nqualification of being a Whig was added to a considerable number of\nappointments both in the Church and in the State. Professor Macdougall,\nFerrier's opponent, had held his professorship in the Free Church\nCollege, lately established for the teaching of theology and\npreparation of candidates for the ministry. On the establishment of the\nCollege, the subject of Moral Philosophy was considered to be one which\nshould be taught elsewhere than in an 'Erastian' University, and\naccordingly it was thought necessary to institute the chair occupied by\nProfessor Macdougall. In the first instance the class was eminently\nsuccessful in point of numbers, and the corresponding class in the\nUniversity proportionately suffered; but as time went on the attendance\nin the Free Church class dwindled, and it was considered that this\nchair need not be continued, but that students might be permitted to\nattend at the University. When Professor Macdougall now offered himself\nas candidate for the University chair, there was of course an immediate\noutcry of a 'job.' Rightly or wrongly it was said, 'Let the Free Church\nhave a Professor of her own body and opinions if she will, but why\nforce him upon the Established Church as well; are her country and\nministers to be indoctrinated with Voluntary principles?' There might\nnot have been much force in the argument had the status of the two\ncandidates been the same, but it was evident to all unprejudiced\nobservers that this was far from being the case. And it could hardly be\npleaded in justification of the Council's action that they formed their\njudgment upon the testimonials laid before them; for Ferrier's far\nexceeded his rival's in weight, if not in strength of expression, and\nincluded in their number communications from such men as Sir William\nHamilton, De Quincey, Bulwer, Alison, and Lockhart--men the most\ndistinguished of the age. De Quincey's opinion of Ferrier is worth\nquoting. He says that he regards him as 'the metaphysician of greatest\npromise among his contemporaries either in England or in Scotland,' and\nthe testimonial which at this time he accorded Ferrier is as remarkable\na document as is often produced on such occasions, when commonplace\nwould usually appear to be the object aimed at. It is several pages in\nlength, and goes fully into the question not only of what Ferrier was,\nbut also of what a candidate ought to be. De Quincey speaks warmly of\nFerrier's services in respect of the English rendering of _Faust_\nbefore alluded to, and points out the benefit there is in having had an\neducation which has run along two separate paths--paths differing from\none another in nature, doubtless, but integrating likewise--the one\nbeing that resulting from his intercourse with Wilson and his literary\ncoterie, the other that of the course of study he had pursued on German\nlines. He sums up Ferrier's philosophic qualities by saying, 'Out of\nGermany, and comparing him with the men of his own generation, such at\nleast as I had any means of estimating, Mr. Ferrier was the only man\nwho exhibited much of true metaphysical subtlety, as contrasted with\nmere dialectical acuteness.' For this testimonial, we may incidentally\nmention, Ferrier writes a most interesting letter of thanks, which is\npublished in his _Remains_. As a return for the kindness done him, he\n'sets forth a slight chart of the speculative latitudes' he had\nreached, and which he 'expects to navigate without being\nwrecked'--really an admirably clear epitome in so short a space of the\nargument of the _Institutes_.\n\nBut to come back to the contest: in spite of testimonials, the fact\nremained that Ferrier had studied German philosophy, and might have\nimbibed some German infidelity, while his opponent made no professions\nof being acquainted either with the German philosophy or language,\nbesides having the advantage of being a Liberal and Free Churchman; and\nhe was consequently appointed to the chair. Of course, there was an\noutcry. The election was put forward as an argument against the\nabolition of Tests, though in this case Ferrier, as an Episcopalian,\nmight be said to be a Dissenter equally with his opponent. It was\nargued that the election should be set aside unless the necessary\nsubscription were made before the Presbytery of the bounds. For a\ncentury back such tests had not been exacted as far as the Moral\nPhilosophy chair was concerned, nor would they probably have been so\nhad Ferrier himself been nominated. But though the Presbytery concerned\nwas in this case prepared to go all lengths, it appeared that it was\nnot in its members that the initiative was vested, the practice being\nto take the oath before the Lord Provost or other authorised\nmagistrate. Consequently, indignant at discovering their impotence, the\nmembers of the body retaliated by declaring that they would divert past\nthe new Professor's class the students who should afterwards come\nwithin their jurisdiction, and thus, by their foolish action, they\nprobably did their best to bring about the result they deprecated so\nmuch--the abolition of Tests in their entirety.\n\nEcclesiastical feeling ran high at the time, and things were said and\ndone on both sides which were far from being wise or prudent. But the\neffect on a sensitive nature like Ferrier's is easy to imagine. This\nwas the first blow he had met with, and being the first he did not take\nit quite so seriously to heart. But when it was followed years later by\nyet another repulse, signifying to his view an attitude of mind in\northodox Scotland opposed to any liberty of thought amongst its\nteachers, Ferrier felt the day for silence was ended, and, wisely or\nunwisely, he published a hot defence of his position in a pamphlet\nentitled _Scottish Philosophy, the Old and the New_. On this occasion\nthe question had risen above the mere discussion of Church and Tests;\nthe whole future of philosophy in Scotland was, he believed, at stake;\nit was time, he felt, that someone should speak out his mind, and who\nmore suitable than the leader of the modern movement and the one, as he\nconsidered it, who had suffered most by his opinions?\n\nWithout having lived through the time or seen something of its effects,\nit would be difficult to realise how narrow were the bounds allowed to\nspeculative thought some forty years ago in Scotland. Since the old\ndays of Moderatism and apathy there had, indeed, been a great revival\nof interest in such matters as concerned Belief. Men's convictions were\nintense and sincere; and what had once been a subject of convention and\ncommon usage, had now become the one important topic of their lives. So\nfar the change was all for the good; it promoted many important\nvirtues; it made men serious about serious things; it made them realise\ntheir responsibilities as human beings. But as those who lived through\nit, or saw the results it brought about, must also know, it had another\nside. A certain spiritual self-assurance sprang into existence, which,\nthough it was bred of intense reality of conviction, brought with it\nconsequences of a specially trying kind to those who did not altogether\nshare in it. As so often happens when a new light dawns, men thought\nthat to them at length _all_ truth had been revealed, and acted in\naccordance with this belief. They formulated their systems--hide-bound\nalmost as before--and decided in their minds that in them they had the\nstandards for judging of their fellows. But Truth is a strange\nwill-o'-the-wisp after all,--when we think we have reached her, she has\neluded our grasp,--and so when those rose up who said the end of the\nmatter was not yet, a storm of indignation fell upon their heads. This\nis what happened with Ferrier and the orthodox Edinburgh world. There\nmight, it was said by the latter, be men lax enough to listen to\nreasonings such as his, and even to agree with them, but for those who\n_knew_ the truth as it was in its reality, such pandering to\nlatitudinarian doctrines was unpardonable. And as at this time the Town\nCouncil of Edinburgh was seriously inclined (some of the members, in\nthe second instance, were the same as those who had adjudicated in the\nformer contest), Ferrier's fate was, he considered, sealed before the\nquestion really came before them. Whether the matter was quite as\nserious as Ferrier thought, it is perhaps unnecessary to say. At\nanyrate, there was a considerable element of truth in the view he took\nof it, and he was justified in much--if not in all--of what he said in\nhis defence. The _Institutes_, first published in 1854, had just\nreached a second edition, so that his views were fairly before the\nworld. What caused the tremendous outburst of opposition we must take\nanother chapter to consider; and then we must try to trace the course\nof Ferrier's development from the time at which he first began to write\non philosophic subjects, and when he openly broke with the Scottish\nSchool of Philosophy.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nDEVELOPMENT OF 'SCOTTISH PHILOSOPHY, THE OLD AND THE NEW'--FERRIER AS A\nCORRESPONDENT\n\n\nIt is probably in the main a wise rule for defeated candidates to keep\nsilence about the cause of their defeat. But every rule has its\nexception, and there are times in which we honour a man none the less\nbecause--contrary to the dictates of worldly wisdom--he gives voice to\nthe sense of injustice that is rankling in his mind. Ferrier had been\ndisappointed in 1852 in not obtaining the Chair of Moral Philosophy for\nwhich he was a candidate; but then he had not published the work which\nhas made his name famous, and his claims were therefore not what\nafterwards they became. But when in 1856, after the _Institutes_ had\nbeen two years before the public, and just after the book had reached a\nsecond edition, another defeat followed on the first, Ferrier ascribed\nthe result to the opposition to, and misrepresentation of, his system,\nand claimed with some degree of justice that it was not his merits that\nwere taken into account, but the supposed orthodoxy, or want of\northodoxy, of his views. For this reason he issued a 'Statement' in\npamphlet form, entitled _Scottish Philosophy, the Old and the New_,\ndealing with the matter at length.\n\nIn Ferrier's view, a serious crisis had been arrived at in the history\nof the University of Edinburgh, and one which might lead to yet further\nevil were not something done to place matters on a better footing. Had\nthe Town Council, the electing body, been affected simply by personal\nor sectarian feelings, it would not so much have mattered; but when\nFerrier was forced to the conclusion that what they did must end in the\ncurtailment of all liberty in regard to philosophical opinion, so far\nas the University was concerned, he felt the time had come to speak.\nFor a quarter of a century he had devoted the best part of his life and\nenergies to the study of philosophy, and he held he had a duty to\ndischarge to it as one of the public instructors of the land. What\ncause, he asked, had a body like the Council to say originality was to\nbe proscribed and independence utterly forbidden? Through their\nliberalism tests had been practically abolished: was another test, far\nmore exacting than the last, to be substituted in their place? A\ncandidate for a philosopher's chair need not be a believer in Christ or\na member of the Established Church; but he must, it would appear,\nbelieve in Dr. Reid and the Hamiltonian system of philosophy.\n\nThe 'common-sense' school, against which Ferrier's attacks were mainly\ndirected, too often found its satisfaction in commonplace statements of\nobvious facts, and we cannot wonder that Ferrier should ask why\nScottish students should be required to pay for 'bottled air' while the\nwhole atmosphere is 'floating with liquid balm that could be had for\nnothing?'--a question, indeed, which cannot fail to strike whoever\ntries to wade through certain tedious dissertations of the time, all\nexpressing truths which seem incontrovertible in their nature, but all\nof which are also inexpressibly uninteresting. Philosophy to Ferrier is\nnot the elementary science that it would appear from these discourses:\nloose ways of thinking which we ordinarily adopt must, he considers, be\nrectified and not confirmed. And yet he disclaims the accusation that\nhe has conjured with 'the portentous name of Hegel,' or derived his\nsystem from German soil. Hegel, he constantly confesses, is frequently\nto him inexplicable, and his system is Scottish to the core.\n\nA warm debt of gratitude to Hamilton, Ferrier, it is true, acknowledges\neven while he differs from his views--a debt to one whose 'soul could\ntravel on eagles' wings,' and from whom he had learned so much--whom,\nindeed, he had loved so warmly. Hamilton had not agreed with Ferrier;\nhe had thought him wrong, and told him so, and Ferrier was the last to\nresent this action, or think the less of him for not recanting at his\nword the conclusions of a lifetime's labour. Provocation, the younger\nman acknowledges, he had often given him, and 'never was such rough\nprovocation retaliated with such gentle spleen.'\n\nBut what most roused Ferrier's ire was, not the criticisms of men like\nHamilton, but such as were contained in a pamphlet published by the\nRev. Mr. Cairns of Berwick, afterwards Principal Cairns of the United\nPresbyterian College--a pamphlet which he believed had biassed the\njudgment of the electors in making their decision. We now know that\nindirectly they had requested Mr. Cairns's advice, and he, considering\nthat orthodoxy was being seriously threatened by German rationalistic\nviews, had formulated his indictment against Ferrier in the strongest\npossible terms. He believed that in Ferrier's writings there was an\nattempt to substitute formal demonstration of real existence for\n'belief,' thereby making faith of no effect; also that he denied the\nseparate existence of the material world and the mind, and that (and\nprobably this is the most serious count in the charge) the\nsubstantiality of the mind was subverted, and consequently belief in\npersonal identity rendered impossible. He further said that by Ferrier\nabsolute existence is reduced to a mere relation, and finally, that his\nconception of a Deity is inadequate, and metaphysics and natural\ntheology are divorced.\n\nWe cannot, of course, deal in detail with Ferrier's energetic\nrepudiation of the accusation brought so specifically against him. The\nheat with which he wrote seems scarcely justified now that we look back\non it from the standpoint of more than forty years ahead. But we do not\nrealise how much such accusations meant at the time at which they were\nmade--how they affected not a man's personal advancement only, but also\nthe opinion in which he was held by those for whose opinion he cared\nthe most. The greater toleration of the present day may mean\ncorresponding lack of zeal or interest, but surely it also means a\nrecognition of the fact that men may choose their own methods in the\nsearch for truth without thereby endangering the object held in view.\nMr. Cairns's attack--without intention, for he was an honourable man\nand able scholar--was unjust. Ferrier does not claim to _prove_\nexistence--he accepts it, and only reasons as to what it is; as to the\nmaterial world, he acknowledges not a mere material world, but one\nalong with which intelligence is and must be known; the separate\nexistence of mind he likewise denies only in so far as to assert that\nmind without thought is nonsense. The substantiality of the mind he\nmaintains as the one great permanent existence amid all fluctuations\nand contingencies, and without personal identity, he tells us, there\ncan be no continued consciousness amid the changes of the unfluctuating\nexistence called the 'I'--though in this regard one feels that\nsomething is left to say in criticism, from the orthodox point of view.\nAbsolute existence is indeed reduced into relations, but into relations\ntogether constituting the truth, if contradictory in themselves; that\nis, a concrete, as distinguished from an abstract truth. As to the\nfinal accusation of the insufficiency of Ferrier's view of the Deity,\nit is true he states that the Deity is not independent of His creative\npowers, revelation and manifestation; but surely this is a worthier\nconception than the old one of the Unknown God, which tells us to\nworship we know not what.\n\nThe pity is that in this publication, and another on very similar\nlines,[9] Ferrier allowed himself to turn from philosophical to\npersonal criticism, and to say what he must afterwards have regretted.\nIn the second edition of his first pamphlet these references were\nmodified, and in any case they must be ascribed to the quick temper\nwith which he was naturally endowed, and which led him to express his\nfeelings more strongly than he should, rather than to deliberate\njudgment. No one was more sensible than he of the danger to which he\nwas subject of allowing himself to be carried off his feet in the heat\nof argument. This is very clearly shown by a letter to a friend quoted\nin the _Remains_: 'One thing I would recommend, not to be too sharp in\nyour criticism of others. No one has committed this fault oftener, or\nis more disposed to commit it than myself; but I am certain that it is\nnot pleasing to the reader, and after an interval it is displeasing to\noneself. In the heat and hurry of writing a lecture I often hit a\nbrother philosopher as I think cleverly enough, but on coming to it\ncoolly next year I very seldom repeat the passage.' An admission and\nacknowledgment which does a proud man like Ferrier credit.\n\n          [9] _A Letter to the Lord Advocate on the Necessity of a\n          Change in the Patronage of the University of Edinburgh._\n\nOne cannot help speculating on the effect of the mass of criticism and\ncounter-criticism (for there were others who took up the cudgels on\neither side, once the controversy was fairly started) upon the\nunfortunate Town Councillors of Edinburgh, to whom they were directed:\none would imagine them to wish their powers curtailed if they were to\ninvolve their mastering several conflicting theories of existence, and\nforming a just judgment regarding their respective merits. The exercise\nof patronage is always a difficult and thankless task, but surely in no\ncase could it have been more difficult than in this, and we can hardly\nwonder now that the electors simply took the advice of those they\ndeemed most worthy to bestow it; certainly the candidate finally\nselected was one who did everything in the occupation of his chair to\ndisarm the criticism then brought to bear upon the appointment. In\ncooler moments probably none would have been readier to admit this than\nwas Ferrier; but when he wrote he was smarting under the sense of\nhaving failed to receive a fair consideration of his claims, and he\nundoubtedly spoke more strongly than the case required.\n\nAfter this controversy was over, Ferrier's interest in polemical\nphilosophy in great degree waned; and in the quiet of the old\nUniversity town of St. Andrews--the town which provides so rich a fund\nof historic interest combined with the academic calm of University\nlife--Ferrier passed the remainder of his days working at his favourite\nsubjects. Sometimes these were varied by incursions into literature, in\nwhich his interest grew ever keener; and economics, which was one of\nthe subjects he was bound to teach. His life was uneventful; it was\nvaried little by expeditions into the outer world, much as these would\nhave been appreciated by his friends. His whole interest was centred in\nhis work and in the University in which he taught, and whose well-being\nwas so dear to him. Of his letters, few, unfortunately, have been\npreserved; and this is the more unfortunate that he had the gift, now\ncomparatively so rare, of expressing himself with ease, and in bright,\nwell-chosen language. Of his correspondents one only seems to have\npreserved the letters written to him, Mr. George Makgill of Kemback, a\nneighbouring laird in Fife and advocate in Edinburgh, whose similarity\nin tastes drew him towards the St. Andrews Philosophy Professor.\n\nOf these letters there are some of sufficient interest to bear\nquotation. One of the first is written in October 1851 from St.\nAndrews, and plunges into the deepest topics without much preface.\nFerrier says:--\n\n'What is the Beginning of Philosophy? Philosophy must have had the same\nBeginning that all other things have, otherwise there would be\nsomething peculiar or anomalous or sectarian in its origin, which would\ndestroy its claims to genuineness and catholicity. What, then, is the\nBeginning of all things and consequently the Beginning of Philosophy?\n\n'Answer--WANT.\n\n'Want is the Beginning of Philosophy because it is the Beginning of all\nthings. Is the Beginning of Philosophy a bodily want? No. Why not?\nBecause nothing that may be given to the Body has any effect in\nappeasing the want. The Beginning of Philosophy, then, must be an\nintellectual want--a Hunger of the Soul.\n\n'But all wants have their objects in which they seek and find their\ngratification. What then is the object of the hunger of the soul?\n\n'Answer--KNOWLEDGE.\n\n'Philosophy is a Hunger of the Soul after Knowledge. What is\nKnowledge?--reduced through various intermediate stages to question,\nwhat is the common and essential quality in all knowledge--the quality\nwhich makes knowledge knowledge? Answer approached by raising question:\nWhat is the essential quality in all food--the quality which makes food\nfood? This is obviously its physically nutritive quality. Whatever has\nthe nutritive property is food; whatever has it not is not food,\nhowever like excellent beef and mutton it may be. So in regard to\nknowledge, its common and essential quality--the quality in virtue of\nwhich knowledge is knowledge--is its nutritive quality. Whatever\nnourishes and satisfies the mind is knowledge, as whatever nourishes\nand satisfies the body is food. The intellectually _nutritive property_\nin knowledge is the common and essential property in knowledge. What is\nthe nutritive quality in knowledge? Answer (without beating about the\nbush)--TRUTH.\n\n'What is TRUTH? Answer--Truth is whatever is supported by Evidence.\n\n'What is EVIDENCE? Evidence is whatever is supported by Experience.\nWhat is EXPERIENCE? Here we stop; we can only divide Experience into\nits kinds, which are two, _Experience of Fact_ and _Experience of Pure\nReason_. Observe the manoeuvre in the last line by which you knaves of\nthe anti-metaphysical school are outwitted. You _oppose Pure Reason_ to\n_Experience,_ and philosophers generally assent to the distinction.\nThis at once gives your school the advantage, for the world will always\ncleave to experience in preference to anything else, leaving us\nmetaphysicians, who are supposed to abandon experience, hanging as it\nwere in baskets in the clouds. But _I_ do not abandon experience as the\nultimate foundation of _all_ knowledge; only I maintain that there are\n_two_ kinds of experience, both of which are equally experience, the\nexperience of Fact and the experience of Pure Reason. You are thus\ndeprived of your advantage. I am as much a man of experience as you\nare.'\n\nEvidently it had been a question with Ferrier whether he should use the\nexpression Experience, so well known to us now, or substitute for it\nConsciousness, which, as a matter of fact, he afterwards did: 'Why is\nit so grievous and fatal an error to confound Experience and\nConsciousness? Is not a man's experience the whole developed contents\nof his consciousness? I cannot see how this can be denied. And\ntherefore, before you wrote, I was _swithering_ (and am so still)\nwhether I should not make consciousness the basis of the whole\nsuperstructure--the raw material of the article which in its finished\nstate is knowledge. After all, the dispute, I suspect, is mainly\nverbal.'\n\nThere are many evidences in these letters that Ferrier was not\nneglecting German Philosophy, for taking Experience as his basis he\nshows how it may be divided into _Wesen_ (_-an sich_), _Seyn_ (_f\u00fcr\nsich_), and the _Begriff_ (_anundf\u00fcrsich_) on the lines of German\nmetaphysics. As to the 'Common-Sense' Philosophy, he expresses himself\nin no measured terms: 'I am glad we agree in opinion as to the merits\nof the Common-Sense Philosophy. Considered in its details and\naccessories, it certainly contains many good things; but, viewed as a\nwhole and _in essentialibus_, it is about the greatest humbug that ever\nwas palmed off upon an unwary world. As an instance among many which\nmight be adduced, of the ambiguity of the word, and of the vacillation\nof the members of this school, it may be remarked that while Reid made\nthe essence of common-sense to consist in this, that its judgments are\nnot conclusions obtained by ratiocination (_Works_, Sir W. Hamilton's\nedition, p. 425), Stewart, on the contrary, holds that these judgments\nare \"the result of a train of reasoning so rapid as to escape notice\"\n(_Elements_, vol. ii. p. 103). Sir W.'s _one hundred and six witnesses_\nare a most conglomerate set, and a little cross-examination would try\ntheir mettle severely.'\n\nThe most important part of Ferrier's system was his working out of the\n'Theory of Ignorance,' in which, indeed, he might congratulate himself\nin having in great measure broken open new ground. He says of it:\n'Hurrah, [Greek: eur\u00eaka], I have discovered the _Law of Ignorance_--and\nif I had a hecatomb of kain hens at my command I would sacrifice them\n_instanter_ to the propitious patron of metaphysics. Look you here. The\nLaw of Knowledge is this, that, in order to know any _one_ thing we\nmust always know two things; _hoc cum alio_--object plus subject--thing\n+ me. This is the unit of knowledge. Analogously, only inversely, in\norder to be ignorant of any _one_ thing we must be ignorant of _two_\nthings--_hujus cum alio_--object plus subject--thing + me. This is the\nunit of ignorance.' Apparently, in spite of full explanation of his\nnewly-discovered view, Ferrier's correspondent had failed to take it\nin, and consequently he gently rails at him for 'sticking at the\naxiom,' and wishes him to help him to a name for what he calls the\n'Agnoiology' for want of something better. He goes on: 'I take it that\nI have caught you in my net, and that wallop about as you will I shall\nland you at last. I have now little fear that I shall succeed in\nconvincing you, or at anyrate less hardened sinners, that the knowledge\nof object-subject is a self-contradiction, and that therefore\nobject-subject, or matter _per se_, is not a thing of which we can with\nany sense or propriety be said to be ignorant. Be this as it may, you\nmust at anyrate recognise in this doctrine a very great novelty in\nphilosophy. The more incogitable a thing becomes, the more ignorant of\nit do _we_ become--that is the natural supposition. Is it not then a\nbold and original stroke to show that when a thing passes into absolute\nincogitability we cease that instant to be ignorant of it? I believe\nthat doctrine to be right and true, but I am certain that, obvious as\nit is, it has been nowhere anticipated or even hinted at in the bygone\ncareer of speculation. I claim this as _my discovery_. In the doctrine\nof Ignorance I believe that I have absolutely no precursor. What think\nyou?'\n\nMr. Makgill had accused Ferrier of anthropomorphism in his system, and\nhe replies as follows:--'You cannot charge me with anthropomorphism\nwithout being guilty of it yourself. Don't you see that \"the Beyond\"\nall human thought and knowledge is itself _a category_ of human\nthought? There is much _na\u00efvet\u00e9_ in the procedure of you cautious\ngentry who would keep scrupulously _within_ the length of your tether:\nas if the conception of a _without_ that tether was not a mode of\nthinking. Will you tell me why you and Kant and others don't make\n_existence_ a category of human thought? This has always puzzled me.\n\n'Surely the man who made extension and time mere forms of human\nknowledge need have made no bones of existence. Meanwhile, as the post\nis just starting, I beg you to consider this, that the anthropomorphist\nand the anti-anthropomorphists are both of necessity anthropomorphists,\nand for my part I maintain that the anti-man is the bigger\nanthropomorphist of the two.' This criticism of the 'Beyond' and its\nunknowableness, while yet it was acknowledged, is as much to the point\nin the present day as it was in those, and its statement brings\nforcibly before our minds the truth of Goethe's well-known saying:\n'_Der Mensch begreift niemals wie anthropomorphisch er ist_.'\n\nThe doctrine of Ignorance, so essential to Ferrier's system, he found\nit hard to make clear to others:--'I am astonished at your not seeing\nthe use, indeed the absolute necessity, of a _true_ doctrine of\nignorance. This blindness of yours shows me what I may expect from the\npublic; and how careful I must be, if I would go down at all, to render\nmyself perfectly clear and explicit. Don't you see that a correct\ndoctrine of ignorance is necessary for two reasons--_first_, on account\nof the _false_ doctrine of ignorance universally prevalent, one which\nhas hitherto rendered, and must ever render, anything like a scientific\nontology impossible; and, _secondly_, because this correct theory of\nignorance follows inevitably from my doctrine of knowledge? This, which\nI consider a very strong recommendation, an indispensable condition of\nthe theory of ignorance, is the very ground on which you object to it.\nSurely you would not have me establish a doctrine of ignorance which\nwas not consistent with my doctrine of knowledge. Surely I am entitled\nto deduce all that is logically deducible from my principles. Your\nmeaning I presume is that my doctrine of ignorance flows so manifestly\nfrom my doctrine of knowledge that it is unnecessary to develop and\nparade it. There I differ from you. It flows _inevitably_, but I cannot\nthink that it flows obviously. Else why was it never hit upon until\nnow?... Don't tell me, then, that _my_ conclusions that matter _per\nse_, _Ding an sich_, is what it is impossible for us to be ignorant of,\njust _because_ it is absolutely unknowable (and for no other reason).\nDon't tell me that this conclusion is so obvious as not to require to\nbe put down in black and white, when we find Kant and _every_ other\nphilosopher drawing, but most erroneously, the directly opposite\nconclusion from the same premises. Matter _per se_, _Ding an sich_, was\nof all things that of which we were most ignorant!! and the ruin of\nmetaphysics was the consequence of their infatuated blindness. Your\nobjection, then, to my doctrine of ignorance, viz., that it is fixed in\nthe very fixing of the doctrine of knowledge, and therefore does not\nrequire explication or elucidation, I cannot regard as a good\nobjection. It is true that the one of these fixes the other; but it\nrequires some amount of explanation and demonstration to make this\npalpable to the understandings even of the most acute, and I am not\nsure that even you (yes, put on your best pair of spectacles, you will\nneed them) yet see how impossible it is for us to be ignorant of matter\n_per se_, or of anything which is absolutely unknowable.'\n\nThis matter of the _Ding an sich_ Ferrier felt to be the crucial point\nin his system: 'You talk glibly of \"existence _per se_,\" as maids of\nfifteen do of puppy dogs. This shows that, like a carpet knight, you\nhave never smelt the real smoke of metaphysical battle, but at most\nhave taken part in the sham fights and listened to the shotless popguns\nof the martinet of K\u00f6nigsberg. You will find existence _per se_ a\ntougher customer than you imagine.'\n\nAs to the _Institutes_, then on the verge of publication, the author\nsays: 'I am inclined to follow your advice, so far, in regard to the\ntitle of the work, and to call it the \"Theory of Knowing and Being,\"\nleaving out ignorance. But why an _introduction_ to metaphysics? If\nthis be an _introduction_ to metaphysics, pray, Mr. Pundit, what and\nwhere are metaphysics themselves? No, sir, it shall be called a\n_text-book_ of metaphysics, meaning thereby, that it is a complete body\n(and soul) of metaphysics. You are an uncommonly _modest_ fellow in so\nfar as the protestations of your _friends_ are concerned!'\n\nThis correspondence appears to have continued regularly for some years,\nand to have dealt almost entirely with metaphysical and economic\nsubjects--the subjects which were constantly in Ferrier's mind, as he\ntaught them in the University and tried to work them out in his study.\nDoubtless it was of the greatest use to him to be able to write about\nthem as he would, had opportunity served, have spoken; and this\nopportunity was afforded by his friendship with his correspondent,\nwhose interest in philosophy was keen, and whose critical faculties\nwere exceptionally acute, although he never accomplished any original\nwork on philosophical lines.\n\nOf other letters few have been preserved. Absence from home did not\nmake a reason for writing, for Ferrier's journeyings were but few. In\n1859, however, he made an expedition to England to see his\nnewly-married daughter, Lady Grant, start for India with her husband,\nSir Alexander Grant, after his appointment to the Chancellorship of the\nUniversity of Bombay. From Southampton he made his way to the scene of\nhis schooldays at Greenwich, from which place he writes to one of the\nsons of Dr. Bruce of Ruthwell, with whom he spent a happy childhood:\n'One of our f\u00eates was a sumptuous fish dinner at Greenwich. I call it\nsumptuous, but in truth the fish was utter trash, the best of them not\ncomparable to Loch Fyne herring. Whitebait is the greatest humbug of\nthe age, though it may be heresy to say so in your neighbourhood.' This\njourney was concluded by a visit to Oxford and to the Lake country,\nwith both of which Ferrier's associations were so many and so\nagreeable.\n\nThe following is a letter, dated 21st March 1862, to Professor\nLushington, his friend and biographer:--'I have been very remiss in not\nacknowledging your photograph, which came safe, and is much admired by\nall who have seen it. I must get a book for its reception and that of\nsome other worthies, otherwise my children will appropriate it for\ntheir collections, with which the house is swarming.... The _ego_ is an\ninfinite and active capacity of _never being anything in particular_. I\nwill uphold that definition against the world. Did you never feel how\nmuch you revolted from being fixed and determined? Depend upon it, that\nis the true nature of a spirit--never to be any determinate existence.\nThis is our real immutability--for death can get hold only of that\nwhich has a determinate being. _We_ stand loose from all\ndeterminations. That is our chance of escaping his clutches.\"\n\nThis expresses Ferrier's views and hopes for an after life: he looked\nforward to an immortality in which the particular and determinate\nshould disappear and only the absolute element remain--in which death\nshould mean only the rising from the individual into a true and\nuniversal life. It is a matter to which he frequently refers, and\nalways in terms of a very similar nature. We shall see how, when the\nend was coming near, his views remained the same, and he was able to\nface the inevitable without a qualm or shadow of complaint.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nFERRIER'S SYSTEM OF PHILOSOPHY--PHILOSOPHICAL WRITINGS\n\n\n'If one were asked,' says Professor Fraser, 'for the English writings\nwhich are fitted in the most attractive way to absorb a reader of\ncompetent intelligence and imagination in the final or metaphysical\nquestion concerning the Being in which we and the world of sensible\nthings participate, Berkeley's _Dialogues_, Hume's _Inquiry into Human\nUnderstanding_, and some of the lately published _Philosophical\nRemains_ of Professor Ferrier are probably those which would best\ndeserve to be mentioned.'\n\nIt has been given to few philosophers of modern days to write on\nphilosophic questions in a manner at once so lucid and so convincing as\nthat of Ferrier. Nor can it in his case be said that matter is\nsacrificed to form, for the writer does not hesitate to 'nail his\ncolours to the mast,' as he himself expresses it, and to tackle\nquestions the most vital in their character in a straightforward and\nuncompromising fashion. His earliest published writings, as we have\nseen, took the form of a series of seven articles, which appeared,\nroughly speaking, in alternate months, between February of 1838 and\nMarch of 1839. These articles, entitled _An Introduction to the\nPhilosophy of Consciousness_, represented the results of their author's\nwork during the years which had elapsed since he first began to be\nreally interested in philosophy, and to feel that the way of looking at\nit adopted almost universally in Scotland was not satisfying to\nhimself, or in any way defensible.\n\nThe whole point in Ferrier's view turns upon the way in which we look\nat 'Mind.' 'The human mind, to speak it profanely,' says Ferrier, 'is\nlike the goose that laid the golden eggs. The metaphysician resembles\nthe analytic poulterer who slew it to get at them in a lump, and found\n_nothing_ for his pains.... Look at thought, and feeling, and passion,\nas they glow in the pages of Shakespeare--golden eggs indeed! Look at\nthe same as they stagnate on the dissecting-table of Dr. Brown, and\nmarvel at the change. Behold how shapeless and extinct they have\nbecome!' Locke began by saying there are no original ideas, simply\nimpressions from without; Hume then says cause and effect are incapable\nof explanation, and the notion which we form of them is a nonentity,\nseeing that we have a series of impressions alone to work from; Reid\nsays there is a mind and there is an object, and calls in common-sense\nto interpret between the two. But the mistake all through is very\nevident: man looks at Nature in a certain way, interprets her by\ncertain categories, and then he turns his eye upon himself,\nendeavouring thereby to judge of what he finds within by methods of a\nsimilar kind. And the human mind cannot be so 'objectised'; it is\nsomething more than the sum of its 'feelings,' 'passions,' and 'states\nof mind.' Dr. Reid had done a service by exploding the old doctrine of\n'ideas'; he brought mind into contact with immediate things, but much\nmore is left for us to do; the same office has to be performed for\n'mind'--that is, mind when we regard it as something which connects us\nwith the universe, or something which can be looked at and examined, as\nwe might look at or examine a thing outside ourselves, and not as that\nwhich is necessary to any such examination. 'Is it not enough for a man\nthat he is _himself_? There can be no dispute about that. _I_ am; what\nmore would I have? What more would I be? Why would I be _mind_? I am\n_myself_ therefore let it perish.'\n\nWhat, then, makes a man what he is? It is the fact of consciousness,\nthe fact which marks him off from all other things with a deep line of\nseparation. It is this and this alone, Ferrier says, this '_human_\nphenomenon,' and not its objects, passions, or emotions, which leads us\ninto pastures fresh and far separated from the dreary round which the\nold metaphysicians followed. The same discovery, of course, is always\nbeing made, though to Ferrier it was new; we are always straying into\ndevious ways, ways that lead us into grey regions of abstraction, and\nwe always want to be called back to the concrete and the real, to the\nfreshness and the brightness of life as it is and lives.\n\nFerrier from this time onwards, from his youth until his death, kept\none definite aim in view: the object of his life was to insist with all\nhis might that our interests must be concentrated on man as he is as\nman, and not on a mere sum-total of passions and sensations by which\nthe human being is affected. The consciousness of a state of mind is\nvery different from that state of mind itself, and the two must be kept\nabsolutely distinct. 'Let mind have the things which are mind's, and\nman the things which are man's.' We should, Ferrier says, fling 'mind'\nand its lumber overboard, busy ourselves with _the man_ and his facts.\nMan's passions and sensations may be referred to 'mind' indeed, but he\ncannot lay his hands upon the fact of consciousness. That fact cannot\nbe conceived of as vested in the _object_ called the 'human mind,' an\nobject being something really or ideally different from ourselves. In\nspeaking of 'my mind,' mind may be what it chooses, but the\nconsciousness is in the _ego_; and mind is really destitute of\nconsciousness, otherwise the _ego_ would necessarily be present in it.\nThe dilemma is as follows: 'Unless the philosophers of mind attribute\nconsciousness to mind, they leave out of view the most important\nphenomena of man; and _if_ they attribute consciousness to mind, they\nannihilate the object of their research, in so far as the whole extent\nof this fact is concerned.'\n\nSince Ferrier's time this point has been worked out very fully, and by\nnone more successfully than by an English philosopher, Professor T. H.\nGreen of Oxford, in his Introduction to the works of Hume. But when\nFerrier wrote, his ideas were new; in England at least he was breaking\nup ground hitherto untouched, and therefore the debt of gratitude we\nowe him is not small, especially when we consider the forces against\nwhich he warred. 'Common-sense,' the solution offered for all\nphilosophic difficulties, is really the _problem_ of philosophy, and to\nspeak of the 'philosophy of common-sense' is simply to confuse the\nproblem with its solution. Common-sense, or rather what is given by its\nmeans, has simply to be construed into intelligible forms: in itself it\nmakes no attempt to solve the difficulties that present themselves, and\nit is folly to suggest its doing so. When a man speaks of _my_\nsensations or _my_ states of mind, he means something of which he--as\nconsciousness--is independent, and which can be made an object to him.\nWere it not so, of course he could not possibly arrive at freedom, but\nwould merely be the helpless child of destiny; and, as Ferrier points\nout, were consciousness and sensation one, consciousness would not have\nthe power, undoubtedly possessed by it, of 'recovering the balance'\nthat it loses on experiencing pain or passion; the return of\nconsciousness, as he puts it, 'lowers the temperature' of the sensation\nor the passion, and the man regains the personality that for the time\nhad almost vanished. A man, he tells us, can hardly even be said to be\nthe 'victim' of his mind, and irresponsible--_i.e._, man stands aloof\nfrom the modifications which may visit him, therefore we should study\nhim as he is, and not merely these 'states of mind' common to him and\nto animals alike. And consciousness must be active, exercising itself\nupon those states, and thereby realising human freedom.\n\nPhilosophy, then, is the gospel of freedom as contrasted with the\nbondage of the physical kingdom. But we are in subjection at the first,\nand all our lifetime a constant fight is being carried on. Philosophy\npaints its grey in grey, another great philosopher has told us, only\nwhen the freshness and life of youth has gone: the reconciliation is in\nthe ideal, not the actual world. And so with Ferrier: 'The flowers of\nthy happiness,' says he, 'are withered. They could not last; they\ngilded but for a day the opening portals of life. But in their place I\nwill give thee freedom's flowers. To act _according_ to thy inclination\nmay be enjoyment; but know that to act _against_ it is liberty, and\nthou only actest thus because thou art really free.' Great and weighty\nwords, which might be pondered by many more than those to whom they\nwere originally addressed.\n\nHaving established his fundamental principles, Ferrier goes on to trace\nthe birth of self-consciousness in the child--the knowledge of itself\nas 'I,' which means the knowledge of good and evil--the moral birth.\nPerception, again, is a synthesis of sensation and consciousness--the\nrealisation of self in conjunction with the sensation experienced: it\nis, of course, peculiar to man. Things can only take effect on 'me'\nwhen there is a 'me' to take effect upon, and not at birth, or before I\ncome to consciousness. Consciousness is the very essence and origin of\nthe _ego_; without consciousness no man would be 'I.' It is our refusal\nto be acted on by outside impressions that constitutes our personality\nand perception of them; our communication with the universe is the\ncommunication of _non_-communication. And the _ego_ is not something\nwhich comes into the world ready-made; it is a living activity which is\n_never_ passive, for were it passive, it would be annihilated; in\nsubmitting to the action of causality its life would be gone. Our\ndestiny is to free ourselves from the bonds of nature, from that\n'blessed state of primeval innocence,' the blessedness, after all, of\nbondage. A man cannot _be_ until he _acts_, for his Being arises out of\nhis actions: consciousness being an act, our proper existence is the\nconsequence of that act. His natural condition for others, and before\nhe comes to existence, Ferrier says, is given, while his existence for\nhimself is made by his thinking himself. It is only in the latter case\nthat he can attain to Liberty, instead of remaining bound by the bonds\nimposed upon him by Necessity. The three great moments of humanity are:\nfirst, the natural or given man in enslaved Being; second, the\nconscious man in action working into freedom against passion; third,\nthe 'I': man as free, that is, real personal Being.\n\nPhilosophy has thus a great future before her. Instead of being a mere\ndead theory as heretofore, she becomes renovated into a new life when\nshe gets her proper place; she is separated from her supposed\nconnection with the physical world, and is recognised as consciousness.\nWhen this is so, she loses her merely theoretic aspect, and is\nidentified with the living practical interests of mankind. The dead\nsymbols become living realities, the dead twigs are clothed with\nverdure. 'Know thyself, and in knowing thyself thou shalt see that this\nself is not thy true self; but, in the very act of knowing this, thou\nshalt at once displace this false self, and establish thy true self in\nits room.' And Ferrier goes on to trace the bearings of his theories in\nthe moral and intellectual world. He finds in morality something more\nthan a refined self-love; he finds the dawning will endeavouring to\nassert itself, to break free from the trammels imposed upon it by\nnature. Freedom, the great end of man, is contravened by the passive\nconditions of his nature; these are therefore wrong, and every act of\nresistance tends to the accomplishment of the one important end, which\nis to procure his liberty.\n\nThis essay, or series of essays, gives the keynote to Ferrier's thought\nand writings, therefore it seemed worth while to consider its argument\nin detail. The completeness of the break with the old philosophy is\nmanifest. The 'scientific' methods applied to every region of knowledge\nwere then in universal use, and no little courage was required to\nchallenge their pretensions as they were challenged by Ferrier. But in\ncourage, as we know, Ferrier was never lacking. His mind once made up,\nhe had no fear in making his opinions known. He considered that the\nScottish Philosophy had become something very like materialism in the\nhands of Brown and others, and he believed that the whole point of view\nmust be changed if a really spiritual philosophy was to take its place.\nThere may be traces of the impetuosity of youth in this attack: much\nworking out was undoubtedly required before it could be said that a\nsystem had been established. But all the same this essay is a brilliant\npiece of philosophic writing--instinct with life and enthusiasm--one\nwhich must have made its readers feel that the dry bones of a dead\nsystem had wakened into life, and that what they had imagined an\nabstract and dismal science had become instinct with living, practical\ninterest--something to be 'lived' as well as studied.\n\nThe _Institutes of Metaphysics_--the work by which Ferrier's name will\ndescend to posterity--is a development of the Philosophy of\nConsciousness; but it is more carefully reasoned out and\nsystematised--the result of many years of thoughtful labour. For\nseveral years before the work was published (in 1854) the propositions\nwhich are contained in it were developed in the course of Ferrier's\nregular lectures. The _Institutes_, or _Theory of Knowing and Being_,\ncommences with a definition of philosophy as a 'body of reasoned\ntruth,' and states that though there were plenty of dissertations on\nthe subject in existence, there was no philosophy itself--no scheme of\ndemonstrated truth; and this, and not simply a 'contribution' to\nphilosophy was what was now required, and what the writer proposed to\ngive. The divisions into which he separates Philosophy are: first, the\nEpistemology, or theory of knowledge; secondly, the Agnoiology, or\ntheory of ignorance; and thirdly, the Ontology, or theory of being. The\nfundamental question is, 'What is the _one_ feature which is identical,\ninvariable, and essential in all the varieties of our knowledge?'\n\nThe first condition of knowledge is that we should know ourselves, and\nreason gives certainty to this proposition which is not capable of\ndemonstration, owing to its being itself the starting-point; the\ncounter-proposition, asserting the separate subject and object of\nknowledge, and the mutual presence of the two without intelligence's\nbeing necessarily cognisant of itself, represents general opinion, and\nthe ordinary view of popular psychology. Knowledge, then, Ferrier goes\non, always has the self as an essential part of it; it is\nknowledge-in-union-with-whatever-it-apprehends. The objective part of\nthe object of knowledge, though distinguishable, is not really\nseparable from the subjective or _ego_; both constitute the _unit_ of\nknowledge--an utterance thoroughly Hegelian in its character, however\nFerrier may disclaim a connection with Hegel's system. In space they\nmay be separated, but not in cognition, and this idealism does not for\none moment deny the existence of 'external' things, but only says they\ncan have no meaning if out of relation to those which are 'internal';\nas Hegel might have put it, they could be known as separable by means\nof 'abstraction' only. From this point we are led on to the next\nstatement, and a most important statement it is, that matter _per se_\nis of necessity absolutely unknowable; or to what Ferrier calls the\nTheory of Ignorance. Whether or not this theory can make good the title\nto originality which its author claims for it, there is no doubt that\nits statement in clear language, such as no one can fail to understand,\nmarks an important era in English speculation. There are, Ferrier says,\ntwo sorts of so-called ignorance: one of these is incidental to some\nminds, but not to all--an ignorance of defect, he puts it--just as we\nmight be said to be ignorant of a language we had never learned. But\nthe other ignorance (not, properly speaking, ignorance at all) is\nincident to _all_ intelligence by its very nature, and is no defect or\nimperfection. The law of ignorance hence is that 'we can be ignorant\nonly of what can be known,' or 'the knowable is alone the ignorable.'\nThe bearing of this important point is seen at once when we turn back\nto the theory of knowing. Knowledge is something of which the subject\ncannot shake himself free; 'I' must always, in whatever I apprehend,\napprehend 'me.' We don't apprehend 'things,' that is, but what is\napprehended is 'me-apprehending-things.' Things-plus-me is the only\nknowable, and consequently the only 'ignorable.'\n\nThis brings us a great way towards the Absolute Idealism associated\nmainly with the name of Hegel--towards the Knowledge or 'Experience' (a\nword which Ferrier afterwards himself makes use of) which shall cease\nto be a 'theory,' being recognised as comprehending within itself all\nReality--as recognising no distinction between object and subject,\nexcepting when they are regarded as two poles both equally essential,\nand separated only when looked at in abstraction. If Ferrier's 'theory\nof knowledge' did not proceed so far, he at least made the discovery\nthat the subjective idealism of Kant was as unsatisfactory as the\nrelativity of Hamilton, and as certainly tending to agnosticism. Kant's\n'thing-in-itself' is not that of which we are ignorant, or a hidden\nreality which can be known by faith. It is that which cannot possibly\nbe known--and, in other words, a contradiction or nonsense. Now,\nFerrier says, we arrive at the true Idealism--the triumph of\nphilosophy. If it is said to reduce all things to the phenomena of\nconsciousness, it does the same to every _nothing_. What falls out of\nconsciousness becomes incogitable; it lapses, not into nothing, but\ninto what is contradictory. The material universe _per se_, and all its\nqualities _per se_, are not only absolutely unknowable, but absolutely\nunthinkable. We do indeed know substance, but only as object plus\nsubject--as matter _mecum_ or in cognition as thought together with the\nself.\n\nIt may be true that we cannot claim for Ferrier complete originality in\nhis thinking; work on very similar lines was being carried on\nelsewhere. It is not difficult to trace throughout his writings the\nmode of his development. The earlier works are evidently influenced by\nFichte and his school, since the personal _ego_ and individual freedom\nfigure as the principal conceptions in our knowledge; and even while\nthe Scottish school of psychologists is being combated, the influence\nof Hamilton is very manifest. But as time goes on, Ferrier's ideas\nbecome more concrete; the theory of consciousness becomes more absolute\nin its conception; the human or individual element is less conspicuous\nas the universal element is more, which signifies that gradually he\napproaches closer to the standpoint of the later German thinkers by a\ncareful study of their works, though for the most part it is Reid and\nHamilton his criticisms have in view, and not the corresponding work of\nKant.\n\nStill, we should say that Ferrier's attitude represented another phase\nin the same struggle against abstraction and towards unity in\nknowledge, rather than being a simple outcome of the German influence\nin Scotland. This last assumption he at least repudiated with energy,\nand boldly claimed to have developed and completed his system for\nhimself. He claimed to have worked on national lines; to have started\nfrom the philosophy of his country as it was currently accepted, and to\nhave little difficulty in proving from itself its absolute inadequacy.\nHe felt that in his doctrine of the reality of knowledge he had found\nthe means of solving problems hitherto dark and obscure, and he used\nhis instruments bravely, and on the whole successfully.\n\nThe faith-philosophy which professed to know reality through the\nsenses, when these senses were a part of the external universe, or\nsignified taking for granted the matter in dispute, was utterly\nrepugnant to Ferrier. The Unknowable of Sir William Hamilton was\ninconceivable to him, and he ever kept this theory and its errors in\nhis mind, while developing a system of his own. It is better that a\nphilosophic system should grow up thus, instead of coming to us from\nwithout in language hard to understand because of foreign idioms and\nunwonted modes of expression. To be of use, a philosophy should speak\nthe language of the people: until it becomes identified with ordinary\nways of thinking, its influence is never really great; and the Idealism\nof Germany has in this country always suffered from being intelligible\nonly to the few. Therefore we hold all credit due to Ferrier for\nconsistently refusing to adopt the phraseology of a foreign country,\nand setting himself, heart and soul, to find expression for his\nthoughts in the language of his birth.\n\nFerrier introduces his _Lectures on Greek Philosophy_, the last subject\non which he undertook to write, in a manner which reminds us of Hegel's\nremarkable Introduction to his _History of Philosophy_; he begins, like\nHegel, by pointing out that the study of philosophy is just the study\nof our own reason in its development, but that what is worked out in\nour minds hurriedly and within contracted limits, is in philosophy\nevolved at leisure, and seen in its just proportions: the historian of\nphilosophy has not merely to record the existence of dead systems of\nthought that are past and gone, but the living products of his _own_,\nfull of present, vital interest, and there is nothing arbitrary or\ncapricious in such a history: all is reasoned thought as it manifests\nand reveals itself.\n\nPhilosophy, Ferrier defines, by calling it the pursuit of Truth--not\nrelative Truth, but absolute, what necessarily exists for all minds\nalike; and man's faculties (contrary to what is generally supposed) are\ncompetent to attain to it, provided only that they have something in\ncommon with all other minds, _i.e._, are partakers in a universal\nintelligence. He works this out in his Introduction in an extremely\ninteresting way, showing, as he does, how in all intelligence there\nmust be a universal, a unity; that the very essence of religion, for\nexample, rests on the unity which constitutes the bond between God and\nman, and that when this is denied, religion is made impossible. What\nthen, we may ask, is the Truth that has to be pursued?\n\nIt is that which is the real, the object of philosophy--the real which\nexists for all intelligence. The historian of philosophy must show that\nphilosophy in its history corresponds with this definition, if the\ndefinition be a true one.\n\nThe lectures begin with Thales and the followers of the Ionic school,\nand Ferrier points out how, in spite of the material elements which are\ntaken as a basis, their systems are philosophic, in so far as they aim\nat the establishment of a universal in all things, and carry with them\nthe belief that this universal is the ultimately real; and this gives\nthem an interest which from their sensuous forms we could hardly have\nexpected to find. But it was Heraclitus' doctrine of Becoming that was\nmost congenial to Ferrier, as it was to his great predecessor Hegel.\nBeing and Not-Being, the unity of contraries as essential sides of\nTruth, in such conceptions as these Ferrier believes we come nearer to\nthe truth of the universe than in the current views of philosophy, in\nwhich the unity of contrary determinations in one subject is regarded\nas impossible. Apart, either side is incomprehensible, and hence Mr.\nMansel and Sir William Hamilton argue the impotence of human reason;\nbut if, as Ferrier believes, they are shown to be but moments or\nessential factors in conception, the antagonism will be proved\nunreal--it will be an antagonism proper to the very life and essence of\nreason.\n\nPossibly in his account of the early Greek philosophers Ferrier may\nhave done what many historians of philosophy have done before him, he\nmay have read into the systems which he has been describing much more\nthan he was entitled so to read. He may, when he is talking of the\nEleatics of Heraclitus, and even of Socrates and Plato, have had before\nhis mind the special battle which he had chosen to fight--the battle\nagainst sensationalism in Scotland, against materialism in the form in\nwhich he found it--rather than fairly to set before his readers an\nexact and accurate account of the teaching of the particular\nphilosopher of whom he writes. But has it ever been otherwise in any\nhistory of thought that was ever written, excepting perhaps in some\ndryasdust compendium which none excepting those weighed down with dread\nof examination questions, care to peruse? Thought reads itself from\nitself, and if it sometimes reads the present into the past, and thinks\nto see it there, is there matter for surprise, or is it so very far\nwrong? If it tells us something of the secrets it itself conceals, it\nis surely telling us after all much of those that are gone.\n\nFor Plato, Ferrier naturally had a very great affinity; he deals with\nhim at length, and evidently had made a special and careful study of\nhis writings. But the same method is applied by him to Plato as was\nbefore applied to the other Greek philosophers. 'It is not so much by\nreading Plato as by studying our own minds that we can find out what\nideas are, and perceive the significance of the theory which expounds\nthem. It is only by verifying in our own consciousness the discoveries\nof antecedent philosophers that we can hope rightly to understand their\ndoctrines or appreciate the value and importance of their\nspeculations.' And so Ferrier proceeds to prove the necessity for the\nexistence of 'ideas'--of universals--as the absolute truth and\ngroundwork of whatever is. No intelligence can be intelligent excepting\nby their light, and they are the necessary laws or principles on which\nall Being and Knowing are dependent. 'All philosophy,' he says of\nPlato, 'speculative and practical, has been foreshadowed by his\nprophetic intelligence; often dimly, but always so attractively as to\nwhet the curiosity and stimulate the ardour of those who have chosen\nhim as a guide.' And it was as such that Ferrier marked him out and\nchose him as his own. With Aristotle he had probably less in common,\nand his treatment both of him and of the Stoics, Epicureans, and\nNeo-Platonists, with which the history ends, is less sympathetic in its\ntone and understanding in its style. But these lectures as a whole,\nthough never put together for printing as a book, must always be of\ninterest to the student of philosophy.\n\nA philosophic article, entitled _Berkeley and Idealism_, and published\nin June of 1842, was designed to meet the attack of Mr. Samuel Bailey,\nwho had written a _Review of Berkeley's Theory of Vision_, criticising\nthe soundness of his views. Mr. Bailey replied, and Ferrier a year\nlater published an article on that reply. Ferrier rightly appreciates\nthe very important place which ought to be allowed to Berkeley as a\nfactor in the development of philosophic truth--a place which has only\nbeen properly understood in later years. He saw the part he had played\nin bringing the real significance of Absolute Idealism into view, and\ndeprecated the representation of his system made by David Hume, or the\npopular idea that Berkeley denied all reality to matter. What he did\ndeny was the reality which is supposed to lie beyond experience, and\nhis criticism in this regard was invaluable as a basis for a future\nsystem. In his own words, he did not wish to change things into ideas,\nbut _ideas_ into _things_: matter could not exist independently of\nmind. But yet Ferrier is perfectly aware that Berkeley did not entirely\ngrasp the absolute standpoint that the thing is the appearance, and the\nappearance is the thing. Regarded merely as a literary production, this\narticle is entitled to rank with the classics of philosophic writings\nboth as regards the beauty of its style and its logical development.\nFerrier does not often touch directly on questions of religion or\ntheology, but there is an interesting passage in this essay which shows\nhis views regarding the question of immortality. He is talking of the\nimpossibility of our ever conceiving to ourselves the idea of our\nannihilation. Such an idea could not be rationally articulated. We\n_appear_, indeed, to be able to realise it, but we only _think_ we\nthink it: real thought of death in this sense would involve our being\nalready dead; but in thought we are and must be immortal. 'We have\nnothing to wait for; eternity is even now within us, and time, with all\nits vexing troubles, is no more.'\n\nIt was something absolute and enduring for which Ferrier was ever on\nthe search. Those of his Introductory Lectures which are preserved bear\nout this statement, if nothing else were left to do so. Philosophy,\nthought, is more than systems: 'As long as man thinks, the light must\nburn.' Could he but teach the young men who gathered round him day by\nday to think, he cared little as to what so-called 'system' they\nadopted. He put his arguments clearly before them, but they were free\nto criticise as they would. And perhaps it was because they realised\nthat the Truth was more to him than personal fame that their affection\nfor him was so great. He always kept before him, too, that in teaching\nany science the mental discipline which it involves must not be\noverlooked. The practical rule of disciplining the mind should run side\nby side with the theoretical instruction, which might soon be\nforgotten; the great effort of a teacher should be in the best and\nhighest sense to _educate_ his students. That is, he has not only to\ninstil their minds with multifarious learning, but to make their\nthinking systematic.\n\nAnd philosophy must, he tells us, be made interesting if it is to be of\nany use: we must arrive at a 'philosophic consciousness,' and\ndistinguish philosophy from mere opinion. It is mind which is the\npermanent and immutable in all change and mutation; even the Greeks\nfound the idea of permanence in mind while they regarded change as the\nprinciple of matter.\n\nThus, when the end of the day had come, when the lamp grew dim, and the\nbooks he loved so much must be for the last time shut, Ferrier's\nteaching was not so very different from what it was nearly thirty years\nbefore. The only real change was that the impetuosity of youth had\ngone; the man and his system had both become matured: the one more\ntolerant, more careful in expression, more considerate of the feelings\nof his opponents; the other more systematic, more coordinated, firmer\nin its grasp. There was much to do if the system were to be shown to\nhold its place in every department of life, as an absolute system must:\nmuch that has not even yet been accomplished. But for those who came in\ncontact with him, the man was more even than his creed--to them this\nfrail form which seemed to be wasting away before their eyes, yet never\nlosing the keen interest in work to be accomplished, must have taught a\nlesson more than systems of philosophy dream of. For they could not\nfail to learn that the eternal can be found in history--even in history\nof long centuries ago, as in every other sphere of knowledge--and that\nthe search for it supports the seeker in his daily life, takes all its\nbitterness from what is hardest, from pain, suffering, and even death.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTHE COLERIDGE PLAGIARISM--MISCELLANEOUS LITERARY WORK\n\n\nThe story of the so-called Coleridge plagiarism is an old one now, but\nit is one which roused much feeling at the time, and likewise one on\nwhich there is considerable division of opinion even in the present\nday. Into this controversy Ferrier plunged by writing a formidable\nindictment of Coleridge's position in _Blackwood's Magazine_ for March\nof 1840.\n\nWhen Ferrier took up the cudgels the matter stood thus. In the earlier\nquarter of the century German Philosophy was coming, or rather had\nalready come, more or less into vogue in England; and as the German\nlanguage was not largely read, and yet people were vaguely interested,\nthough in what they hardly knew, they welcomed an appreciative\ninterpreter of that philosophy, and an original writer on similar\nlines, in one whose reputation was esteemed so highly as that of\nColeridge. Coleridge in this matter, indeed, occupied a position which\nwas unique; for the treasures of German poetry and prose had not as yet\nbeen fully opened up, and he was held to possess the means of doing\nthis in a quite exceptional degree. The works of Schiller, Goethe, and\nthe other poets came to the world--and to Coleridge with the rest--as a\nsort of revelation. But the poet in his own mind was nothing if not a\nphilosopher--a kind of seer amongst men, speculating, somewhat vaguely\nit might be, on matters of transcendental import--and in Schelling he\nthought he had discovered a kindred spirit; in his writings he believed\nhe had found the Idealism for which he had so long been seeking in\nB\u00f6hme, Fox, and the other mystics--a creed which, though pantheistic in\nits essence, yet fulfilled the condition of being both orthodox and\nTrinitarian in its form. This, for many reasons, was a creed presenting\nmany attractions to the younger men of the day, especially when set\nforth with a certain literary flavour. We have Carlyle's immortal\npicture of how it influenced John Sterling and his friends.\n\nColeridge's _Biographia Literaria_, in which the principal so-called\nSchelling plagiarisms are contained, was published in 1817, but it was\nnot for a considerable time after that that the plagiarisms were\ndiscovered, or at least taken notice of. The first serious indictment\ncame from no less an authority than De Quincey, whose interest in\nphilosophical matters was as great as Coleridge's, and who published\nhis views in an appreciative but gossipy article in _Tait's Magazine_\nof September 1834. To commence with, he took up the question of the\n'Hymn to Chamouni'; but since, in this matter, Coleridge afterwards\nadmitted his indebtedness to a German poetess, Frederica Brun, it does\nnot seem an important one. Nor, indeed, does De Quincey pretend to take\nexception to certain expressions in Coleridge's 'France' which are\nevidently borrowed from Milton, or to regard them as indicating more\nthan a peculiar omission of quotation marks. But the really serious\nmatter, one for which De Quincey cannot by any means account, is that\nin the _Biographia Literaria_ there occurs a dissertation on the\ndoctrine of Knowing and Being which is an exact translation from an\nessay written by Schelling. De Quincey cannot indeed explain away the\nmystery, but he makes the best of it, pleading excuses such as we often\nhear adduced in cases of 'kleptomania' when they occur amongst the\nwell-to-do, or so-called higher classes--_e.g._, the evident fact that\nthere was no necessity so to steal, no motive for stealing, even though\nthe theft had evidently been committed. Still, though the defence may\nbe ingenious, and though we may go so far as to acknowledge that\nColeridge had sufficient originality of mind to weave out theories of\nhis own without borrowing from others, it must be confessed that under\nthe aggravated circumstances the argument falls somewhat flat; and this\nwas the impression made on many minds even at the time. The ball once\nset rolling, the dispute went on, and the next important incident was\nan article by Julius Hare in the _British Magazine_ of January 1835.\nThis is a hot defence of the so-called 'Christian' philosopher, who is\nsaid to be influencing the best and most promising young men of the\nday, as against the assault of the 'English Opium-Eater'--'that\nill-boding _alias_ of evil record.' As to De Quincey's somewhat unkind\nbut entertaining stories, there is some reason in Hare's objections,\nseeing that they were told of one to whom the writer owned himself\nindebted. But when Hare tackles the plagiarisms themselves, and\nendeavours to defend them, his task is harder. Coleridge had indeed\nstated that his ideas were thought out and matured before he had seen a\npage of Schelling; but at the same time, in an earlier portion of his\nwork, he made a somewhat ambiguous reference to his indebtedness to the\nGerman philosopher, and deprecated his being accused of intentioned\nplagiarism from his writings. Of course it may be said that a thief\ndoes not draw attention to the goods from which he has stolen, but yet\neven Hare acknowledges that it is hard to understand how half a dozen\npages (we now know that it really exceeded thirty) should have been\nbodily transferred from one work to another, and suggests that the most\nprobable solution is that Coleridge had a practice of keeping notebooks\nfor his thoughts, mingled with extracts from what he had been reading\nat the time, and that he thus became confused between the two.\n\nAt this point Ferrier steps in and takes the whole matter under\nreview--a matter which he looked upon as serious (perhaps more serious\nthan we should now consider it) from a national as well as an\nindividual point of view. He held that the reputation of his country\nwas at stake, as well as that of a single philosophic thinker, and that\nneither De Quincey nor Hare had gone into the matter with sufficient\ncare or knowledge, or ascertained how large it really was. It was\nundoubtedly the case that Coleridge's reputation in philosophic\nmatters--and in these days that reputation was not small--was derived\nfrom what he had purloined from the writings of a German youth, and\nwhatever the poet's claim on our regard on other scores may be, it was\ncertainly due to Schelling that the debt should be acknowledged. As far\nas the _Biographia Literaria_ is concerned, the facts are plain.\nColeridge makes certain general acknowledgments of indebtedness to\nSchelling to begin with. He acknowledges that there may be found in his\nworks an identity of thought or phrase with Schelling's, and allows him\nto be the founder of the philosophy of nature; but he claims at the\nsame time the honour of making that philosophy intelligible to his\nfellow-countrymen, and even of thinking it out beforehand. Having said\nso much, there follow pages together--sometimes as many as six or eight\non end--which are virtually copied _verbatim_ from Schelling, though\nwith occasional interpolations of the so-called author here and there.\nFerrier has examined the whole matter most minutely, and made a long\nlist of the more flagrant cases of copying: thirty-one pages, he points\nout, are faithfully transcribed, partially or wholly, from Schelling's\nworks alone, without allowing for what the author admits to be\ntranslated _in part_ from a 'contemporary writer of the Continent.' And\nSchelling was not the only sufferer, nor was it only in the region of\nmetaphysics that the thefts were made. The substratum of a whole\nchapter of the _Biographia Literaria_ is, Ferrier discovered, taken\nfrom another author named Maasz, and Coleridge's lecture 'On Poesy or\nArt' is closely copied and largely translated from Schelling's\n'Discourse upon the Relations in which the Plastic Arts stand to\nNature.' This was a blow indeed to those who had boasted of the\nprofundity of Coleridge's views on art; but his poetry surely remained\nintact. But no, 'Verses exemplifying the Homeric Metre' are found to\nbe--unacknowledged--a translation from Schiller; and yet worse, because\nless likely to be discovered, the lines written 'To a Cataract' have\nthe same metre, language, and thought as certain verses by Count von\nStolberg, which were shown to Ferrier by a friend.\n\nThe whole matter is a very strange one and not easy to explain. Of\ncourse the references to Schelling's labours in similar lines are\nthere, and may in a sense disarm our criticism. But then,\nunfortunately, there also are the statements that the ideas had been\nmatured in Coleridge's mind before he had seen a single line of\nSchelling's work, and he clearly gives us to understand that he had\ntoiled out the system for himself, and that it was the 'offspring of\nhis own spirit.' It is this overmuch protesting that makes us, like\nFerrier, disposed to take the darkest view of the affair: anything that\ncan be said in Coleridge's defence is found in the manner in which it\nwas taken by the one who had most right to feel aggrieved. In the life\nof Jowett,[10] recently published, there is an interesting account of\nSchelling's views on Coleridge, taken from a conversation, notes of\nwhich were made by the late Sir Alexander Grant, Ferrier's son-in-law,\nwhen still an undergraduate. Jowett, while at Berlin, had, it appears,\nseen Schelling, and talked to him of the plagiarisms. He took the\nmatter, Jowett states, good-naturedly, thought Coleridge to have been\nattacked unfairly, and even went so far as to assert that he had\nexpressed many things better than he could have done himself--certainly\na very generous acknowledgment. Probably the most charitable\nconstruction we can put on Coleridge's act is that which Jowett himself\nadvances in saying that the poet is not to be looked upon or judged as\nan ordinary man would be, seeing that often enough he hardly could be\nsaid to have been responsible for his actions; while his egotism, which\nwas extreme, may have likewise led him--it may be almost\nunconsciously--into acts of doubtful honesty. But evidently, in spite\nof Ferrier's work, Jowett, and possibly even Schelling himself, had no\nidea of the extent to which the plagiarisms extended. There would, of\ncourse, have been comparatively little harm in Coleridge's action had\nhe been content to borrow materials which he was about to work up in\nhis own way, or to do what his biographer Gillman says is done by the\n'bee which flies from flower to flower in quest of food,' but which\n'digests and elaborates' that food by its native power. Unfortunately,\nthe more we read Coleridge's philosophic writings, the more we feel\nconstrained to agree with Ferrier that the matter is not digested as\nGillman suggests, but taken possession of in its ready-made condition.\nThe parts which he adds do not assist in throwing light on what\nprecedes, but are evidently padding of a somewhat commonplace and\nsuperficial kind. We can only say, like Jowett, that the manner of his\nlife may have injured Coleridge's moral sense, and that his desire to\npose as a philosopher who should yet be a so-called 'Christian' may\nhave led him to encroach upon the spheres of others, instead of keeping\nto those in which he could hold his own unchallenged.\n\n          [10] _Life of Benjamin Jowett_, vol. i. pp. 98 and 145.\n\nA labour of love with Ferrier, on very different lines than the above,\nwas to bring out in five volumes the works of his father-in-law, John\nWilson, 'Christopher North,' including the _Noctes Ambrosian\u00e6_, and his\nEssays and Papers contributed to _Blackwood_. This was published in\n1856, but must, of course, have meant a considerable amount of work to\nthe editor for some time previously. One of the most interesting parts\nof the work is Ferrier's preface to the famous 'Chaldee Manuscript,' in\nvol. iv. The story of the 'Chaldee MS.' is now a matter of history,\nfully recorded in the recently published records of the famous house of\nBlackwood. In 1817 the Whigs ruled in matters literary, mainly through\nthe instrumentality of the _Edinburgh Review_, then in its heyday of\nfame. A reaction, however, set in, and the change was inaugurated by\nthe publication of the so-called 'Chaldee MS.,' a wild _extravaganza_,\nor _jeu d'esprit_, hitting off the foibles of Whiggism, under the guise\nof an allegory describing the origin and rise of _Blackwood's\nMagazine_, the rival which had risen up in opposition to the _Review_,\nand the discomfiture of another journal carried on under the auspices\nof Constable. It was in the seventh number of _Blackwood_ that the\nsatire appeared--that is, the first number of _Blackwood's Edinburgh\nMagazine_ as distinguished from the _Edinburgh Monthly Magazine_,\npublished from Blackwood's office to begin with, but on comparatively\nmild and inoffensive lines. One may imagine the effect of this Tory\noutburst on the society of Edinburgh. All the _literati_ of the town\nwere involved: Sir Walter Scott himself, Mackenzie, Sir David Brewster,\nSir William Hamilton, Professor Jamieson, Tytler, Playfair, and many\nothers, some of whom emerged but seldom from the retirement of private\nlife. Nowadays it would be difficult, if not impossible, to identify\nthe different characters, were it not for the assistance of Professor\nFerrier's marginal notes; but in those days they were no doubt\nrecognisable enough. Of course the magazine went like wildfire; but the\nludicrous description in semi-biblical language of individuals with\nabsurd allegorical appendages, constituted, as Ferrier acknowledges, an\noffence against propriety which could not be defended, even though no\nreal malevolence might be signified. Whether Ferrier was justified in\nrepublishing the _Noctes_, in so far as they could be identified with\nWilson, has been disputed; but, as the publisher, Major Blackwood,\npoints out, the time was past for anyone to be hurt by the\npersonalities which they contained, and the only harm the republication\ncould inflict was upon the _Noctes_ themselves. The conception of the\n'Chaldee Manuscript,' he tells us, was in the first part due to Hogg;\nand Wilson and Lockhart were held responsible for the last. There is a\ntradition, too, though Ferrier does not mention it, that Hamilton was\none of the party in Mr. Wilson's house (53 Queen Street) where the skit\nwas said to have been concocted, and that he even contributed to it a\nverse. This may have been the case, as Wilson and Lockhart were his\nintimate friends; but it seems strange to think of so thoroughgoing a\nWhig being found mixed up in such a plot, and with such companions.\n\nThough it is easy to understand that Ferrier felt the editing of his\nfather-in-law and uncle's work was a duty which it was incumbent upon\nhim to perform, one cannot help surmising that it may have been a less\ncongenial task to him than many others. There was little in common\nbetween the two men, both distinguished in their way, and Wilson's\nhumour and poetic fancy, however bright and vivid, was not of the sort\nthat would appeal most to Ferrier. A few years before his death Ferrier\ngave up the project he had in view of writing Wilson's life, partly in\ndespair of setting forth his talents as he felt they should be set\nforth, and partly from the lack of material to work from. He says, in a\nletter written at the time, 'It would do no good to talk in general\nterms of his wonderful powers, of his genius being greater (as in some\nsense it was) than that of any of his contemporaries--greater, too,\nthan any of his publications show. The public would require other\nevidences of this beyond one's mere word--something might have been\ndone had some of us Boswellized him judiciously, but this having been\nomitted, I do not see how it is possible to do him justice.' The book\nwas eventually undertaken, and successfully accomplished, by Wilson's\ndaughter, Mrs. Gordon.\n\nWe have spoken of Ferrier's interest in German literature; so early as\n1839 he published a translation of _Pietro d'Abano_ by Ludwig Tieck,\none of the inner circle of the so-called Romantic School to which the\nSchlegels and Novalis also belonged--the school which opposed itself to\nthe eighteenth-century enlightenment, making its cry the return to\nnature, and demanding with Fichte that a work of art should be a 'free\nproduct of the inner consciousness.' Another specimen of Ferrier's\ntranslating powers is given in a rendering from Deinhardstein's _Bild\nder Dan\u00e6_, a love story in which Salvator Rosa figures. This appeared\nin _Blackwood_ of September 1841, and an extract from it is published\nin the _Remains_.\n\nBut one of the earliest and most remarkable of Ferrier's literary\ncriticisms in _Blackwood's Magazine_ was an anonymous article on the\nvarious translations of Goethe's _Faust_ published in 1840. We have\nseen that Ferrier had made a special study of the writings of Schiller\nand Goethe, and that his work had been much appreciated both by Lytton\nand De Quincey. In this article the writer takes seven different\nrenderings of the drama, carefully analyses them, points out their\ndeficiencies, and even adventures on the difficult task, for a critic,\nof himself translating one or two pages. Now that German is so widely\nread in England, we are all too well aware of the insufficiency of any\ntranslation of _Faust_ to regard even the best in any other light than\nas a makeshift. But then things were different, and it was possible\nthat wrong impressions of the original might be conveyed by inadequate\ntranslations. Ferrier's point was that Goethe, while writing in rhyme\nand in exquisitely poetical language, managed at the same time to find\nwords such as might really be used by ordinary mortals; but the\ntranslators, in endeavouring rightly enough to keep to the rhyming\nform, entirely fail in their endeavour after the same end. He considers\nthat though in prose we may deviate from the ordinary proprieties of\nlanguage, we may not do so in rhyming poetry; for though the poet has\nto describe the thought and passion of real men in the language of real\nlife, his dialect must at the same time be taken out of the category of\nordinary discourse because of the use of rhyme; and he is therefore\ncalled upon as far as possible to remove this bar, and reconcile us to\nthe peculiarity of his style by the simplicity of his language;\notherwise all illusion will be at an end. Rhymes brought together by\nforce can succeed in giving us no pleasure; the writer should possess\nthe power of mastering his material and compelling it to serve his\nends.\n\nFerrier's speculative instincts naturally led him to discuss the\noften-discussed motive of the play. Is it so, as Coleridge says, that\nthe love of knowledge for itself could not bring about the evil\nconsequences depicted in the character of Faust, but only the love of\nknowledge for some base purpose? Ferrier replies, No, the love of\nknowledge as an end in itself would people the world with Fausts. 'Such\na love of knowledge exercises itself in speculation merely, and not in\naction; and if the experiences of purely speculative men were gathered,\nwe think that most of them would be found to confess, bitterly confess,\nthat indulgence in an abstract reflective thinking (whatever effect it\nmay have ultimately upon their nobler genius, supposing them to have\none) in the meantime absolutely kills, or appears to kill, all the\nminor faculties of the soul--all the lesser genial powers, upon the\nexercise of which the greater part of human happiness depends. They\nwould own, not without remorse, that pure speculation--that is,\nknowledge pursued _for itself_ alone--has often been tasted by them to\nbe, as Coleridge elsewhere says, 'the bitterest and rottenest part of\nthe core of the fruit of the forbidden tree.' This seems a strange\nconfession for a thinker reputed so abstract as Ferrier, but of course\nthe truth of what he says is evident. Knowledge regarded as an end in\nitself might have brought Faust into his troubles, it is true, and he\nmight likewise have found himself ready to rush into what he conceives\nto be the opposite extreme; but a greater philosopher than Ferrier has\nsaid that though 'knowledge brought about the Fall, it also contains\nthe principle of Redemption,' and we take this to signify that we must\nlook at knowledge as a necessary element in the culture and education\nof an individual or a people, which, though it carries trouble in its\nwake, does not leave us in our distress, but brings along with it the\nprinciple of healing, or is the 'healer of itself.'\n\nSoon after the above, Ferrier contributes to the same journal an\narticle entitled 'The Tittle-Tattle of a Philosopher,' or an account of\nthe 'Journey through Life' of Professor Krug of Leipzig. Krug appears\nto have been a sort of Admirable Crichton amongst philosophers, to whom\nno subject came amiss, and who was ready to take his part in every sort\nof philosophical discussion. By Hegel and the idealist school he is\nsomewhat contemptuously referred to as one of that class of writers of\nwhom it is said '_Ils se sont battus les flancs pour \u00eatre de grands\nhommes_.' Anyhow, his recollections are at least amusing, if not\nphilosophically edifying.\n\nA review of the poems of Coventry Patmore a few years later is a very\ndifferent production. It carries us back to the old days of\n_Blackwood_, when calm judgment was not so much an object as strength\nof expression, withering criticism, and biting sarcasm. Ferrier no\ndoubt believed it would be well for literature to turn back to the old\ndays of the knout; but few, we fancy, will agree with him, even if they\nsuffer for so differing by permitting certain trashy publications to\nsee the light. Too often, unfortunately, the knout, when it is applied,\narrives on shoulders that are innocent. Of course Ferrier believed that\nthe worst prognostications of a quarter of a century before were now\nbeing realised by the application not being persevered in; but as to\nthis particular piece of criticism, whatever our opinion of Patmore's\npoetic powers may be, surely the writer was unreasonably severe; surely\nthe work does not deserve to be dealt with in such unmeasured terms of\nopprobrium. It is refreshing to turn to an appreciative, if also\nsomewhat critical review of the poems of Elizabeth Barrett, published\nin the same year, 1844, part of which has been republished in the\n_Remains_. In this article Ferrier urges once more the point on which\nhe continually insists--the adoption of a direct simplicity of style:\none which goes straight to the point, or, as he puts it, which is felt\nto 'get through business.' Excepting certain criticism on the score of\nstyle and phraseology, however, Ferrier is all praise of the high\ndegree of poetic merit which the writings revealed--merit which he must\nhave been amongst the first to discover and make known.\n\nThe last of Ferrier's work for the magazine in which he had so often\nwritten, was a series of articles on the New Readings from Shakespeare,\npublished in 1853. These articles were in the main a criticism of Mr.\nPayne Collier's 'Notes and Emendations' to the Text of Shakespeare's\n'Plays' from early MS. corrections which he had discovered in a copy of\nthe folio 1632. Ferrier, who was a thorough Shakespeare student, and\nwhose appreciation of Shakespeare is often spoken of by those who knew\nhim, had no faith in the authenticity of the new readings, though he\nthinks they have a certain interest as matter of curiosity. He goes\nthrough the plays and the alterations made in them _seriatim_, and\ncomes to the conclusion that in most cases they have little value. In\nfact, he proceeds so far as to say that they have opened his eyes to 'a\ndepth of purity and correctness in the received text of Shakespeare' of\nwhich he had no suspicion--a satisfactory conclusion to the ordinary\nreader.\n\nBesides his work for _Blackwood_, Ferrier was in the habit of\ncontributing articles to the _Imperial Dictionary of Universal\nBiography_ on the various philosophers. Two of these, the biographies\nof Schelling and Hegel, are printed in the _Remains_, but besides these\nhe wrote on Adam Smith, Swift, Schiller, etc., and occasionally\nutilised the articles in his lectures.\n\nOn yet another line Ferrier wrote a pamphlet in 1848, entitled\n_Observations on Church and State_, suggested by the Duke of Argyll's\nessay on the Ecclesiastical History of Scotland. This pamphlet aims at\nproving that the Assembly of the Church is really, as the Duke argues,\nnot merely an ecclesiastical, but a national council, or, as Ferrier\nterms it, the 'second and junior of the Scottish Houses of Parliament.'\nBeing therefore amenable to no other earthly power, it was justified in\nopposing the decrees of the Court of Session; though, however, the Free\nChurch ministers were right in defending their constitutional\nprivileges, Ferrier holds that they were wrong in doing so as the\n'Church' in opposition to the 'State,' and that this brought upon them\ntheir discomfiture. They should not, in his view, have acknowledged\nthat the Church's property could be forfeit to the State, and\nconsequently should not have voluntarily resigned their livings. The\npamphlet shows considerable interest in the controversy raging so\nvehemently at the time.\n\nIn St. Andrews there was no social meeting at which Ferrier was not a\nwelcome guest. When popular lectures, then coming into vogue, were\ninstituted in the town, Ferrier was called upon to deliver one of the\nseries, the subject chosen being 'Our Contemporary Poetical\nLiterature.' He says in a letter: 'I am in perfect agony in quest of\nsomething to say about \"Our Contemporary Poets\" in the Town Hall here\non Friday. I must pump up something, being committed like an ass to\nthat subject, but devil a thing will come. I wish Aytoun would come\nover and plead their cause.' However, in spite of fears, the lecture\nappears to have been a success: it was an eloquent appeal on behalf of\npoetry as an invaluable educational factor and agent in carrying\nforward the work of human civilisation, and an appreciation of the work\nof Tennyson, Macaulay, Aytoun, and Lytton. In the same year, but a few\nmonths later, Ferrier was asked to deliver the opening address of the\nEdinburgh Philosophical Institution. This Institution has for long been\nthe means of bringing celebrities from all parts of the country to\nlecture before an Edinburgh audience, and its origin and conception was\nlargely due to Professor Wilson, Ferrier's father-in-law, who was in\nthe habit of opening the session with an introductory address. His\nhealth no longer permitting this to be done, the directors requested\nFerrier to take his place. The address was on purely general topics,\ndealing mainly with the objects of the Institution, then somewhat of a\nnovelty. He concluded: 'Labour is the lot of man. No pleasure can\nsurpass the satisfaction which a man feels in the efficient discharge\nof the active duties of his calling. But it is equally true that every\nprofessional occupation, from the highest to the lowest, requires to be\ncounterpoised and alleviated by pursuits of a more liberal order than\nitself. Without these the best faculties of our souls must sink down\ninto an ignoble torpor, and human intercourse be shorn of its highest\nenjoyments, and its brightest blessings.' This is characteristic of\nFerrier's view of life. One-sidedness was his particular abhorrence,\nand if he could in any measure impress its evil upon those whose daily\nbusiness was apt to engross their attention, to the detriment of the\nhigher spheres of thinking, he was glad at least to make the attempt.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nPROFESSORIAL LIFE\n\n\nThe St. Andrews University has the reputation of being given to strife,\nand never being thoroughly at rest unless it has at least one law-plea\nin operation before the Court of Session in Edinburgh, or an appeal\nbefore the House of Lords in London. In a small town, and more\nespecially in a small University town, there is of course unlimited\nopportunity for discussing every matter of interest, and battles are\nfought and won before our very doors--battles often just as interesting\nas those of the great world outside, and more engrossing because in\nthem we probably play the part of active participators, instead of\nbeing simple spectators from outside. Of this time Sheriff Smith,\nhowever, writes: 'Never was the University set more social, and less\ngiven to strife than in Ferrier's day. Grander feats I have often seen\nelsewhere, but brighter or more intellectual talk, ranging from the\nplayful to the profound, never have I heard anywhere.' In this respect\nit contrasts with the more self-conscious and less natural social\ngatherings of the neighbouring city of Edinburgh, whose stiffness and\nformality was unknown to the smaller town. The company, without passing\nbeyond University bounds, was excellent. There was Tulloch at St.\nMary's, still a young man at his prime, and a warm friend of Ferrier's\nin spite of the traditional decree that St. Mary's dealings with the\nother College should be as few as might be; there was Shairp,\nafterwards Professor of Poetry in Oxford, and always a delightful and\ninspiring companion; in the Chair of Logic there was Professor\nSpalding, whose ill-health alone prevented him from sharing largely in\nthe social life; and he was succeeded by Professor Veitch, afterwards\nof Glasgow, whose appreciation of Ferrier was keen, and with whom\nFerrier had so much intercourse of a mutually enjoyable sort. Then\nthere was Professor Sellar, a staunch friend and true, and likewise Sir\nDavid Brewster, the veteran man of science, whom Scotland delights to\nhonour. When Brewster resigned the Principalship of the United College\nin 1859, Ferrier was pressed to become a candidate for the post, and\nBrewster himself promised his support, and urged Ferrier's claims; but\nthere were difficulties in the way, and his place was filled by another\nfollower of science, Principal Forbes.\n\nFerrier's students are now, of course, dispersed abroad far and wide.\nOne of their number, Sheriff Campbell Smith of Dundee, writes of them\nas follows:--'His old students are scattered everywhere--through all\ncountries, professions, and climates. To many of them the world of\nfaith and action has become more narrow and less ideal than it seemed\nwhen they sat listening to his lofty and eloquent speculations in the\nlittle old classroom among earnest young faces that are no longer\nyoung, and nearly all grown dim to memory; but to none of them can\nthere be any feeling regarding him alien to respect and affection,\nwhile to many there will remain the conviction that he was for them and\ntheir experience the _first_ impersonation of living literature, whose\nlectures, set off by his thrilling voice, slight interesting burr, and\nsolemn pauses, and holding in solution profound original thought and\nsubtle critical suggestions, were a sort of revelation, opening up new\nworlds, and shedding a flood of new light upon the old familiar world\nof thought and knowledge in which genius alone could see and disclose\nwonders.' And this sometime student tells how in passages from the\nstandard poets undetected meanings were discovered, and new light was\nthrown upon the subject of his talk by quotations from the classics,\nfrom Milton and Byron as well as from his favourite Horace. His\neloquence, he tells us, might not be so strong and overwhelming as that\nof Chalmers, but it was more fine, subtle, and poetical in its\naffinities, revealing thought more splendid and transcendental. 'In\nperson and manner Professor Ferrier was the very ideal of a Professor\nand a gentleman. Nature had made him in the body what he strove after\nin spirit. His features were cast in the finest classic mould, and were\nfaultlessly perfect, as was also his tall thin person,--from the finely\nformed head, thickly covered with black hair, which the last ten years\nturned into iron-grey, to the noticeably handsome foot.... A human\nbeing less under the influence of low or selfish motives could not be\nconceived in this mercenary anti-ideal age. If he made mistakes, they\nwere due to his living in an ideal world, and not to either malice or\nguile, both of which were entirely foreign to his nature.'[11] And yet\nthere was nothing of the Puritan about the Professor's nature. There\nare celebrations in St. Andrews in commemoration of a certain damsel,\nKate Kennedy by name, which are characterised by demonstrations of a\nsomewhat noisy order. Some of the Professors denounced this institution\nand demanded its abolition. But Ferrier had too much sense of humour to\ndo this; he did not rebuke the lads for the exuberance of their\nspirits, but by his calm dignity contrived to keep them within due\nbounds.\n\n          [11] _Writings by the Way_, by John Campbell Smith, p. 357\n          _seq._\n\nA picture of Ferrier was painted about a year before his death by Sir\nJohn Watson Gordon, and it may still be seen in the University Hall\nbeside the other men of learning who have adorned their University. It\nwas painted for his friends and former students, but though a fairly\naccurate likeness, it is said not to have conveyed to others the keen,\nintellectual look so characteristic of the face. It was the nameless\ncharm--charm of manner and personality--that drew Ferrier's students so\nforcibly towards him. As his colleague, Principal Tulloch, said in a\nlecture after his death: 'There was a buoyant and graceful charm in all\nhe did--a perfect sympathy, cordiality, and frankness which won the\nhearts of his students as of all who sought his intellectual\ncompanionship. Maintaining the dignity of his position with easy\nindifference, he could descend to the most free and affectionate\nintercourse; make his students as it were parties with him in his\ndiscussions, and, while guiding them with a master hand, awaken at the\nsame time their own activities of thought as fellow-workers with\nhimself. There was nothing, I am sure, more valuable in his teaching\nthan this--nothing for which his students will longer remember it with\ngratitude. No man could be more free from the small vanity of making\ndisciples. He loved speculation too dearly for itself--he prized too\nhighly the sacred right of reason, to wish any man or any student\nmerely to adopt his system or repeat his thought. Not to manufacture\nthought for others, but to excite thought in others; to stimulate the\npowers of inquiry, and brace all the higher functions of the intellect,\nwas his great aim. He might be comparatively careless, therefore, of\nthe small process of drilling, and minute labour of correction. These,\nindeed, he greatly valued in their own place. But he felt that his\nstrength lay in a different direction--in the intellectual impulse\nwhich his own thinking, in its life, its zealous and clear open\ncandour, was capable of imparting.'\n\nFerrier was not, perhaps, naturally endowed with any special capacity\nfor business, but the business that fell to him as a member of the\n_Senatus Academicus_ was performed with the greatest care and zeal.\nWith the movement for women's University education, which has always\nbeen to the front in St. Andrews, he was sympathetic, although it was\nnot a matter in which he played any special part. 'No one,' it was\nsaid, 'had clearer perceptions or a cooler and fairer judgment in any\nmatter which seemed to him of importance.' Principal Tulloch tells how\non one occasion in particular, where the interests of the University\nwere at stake, his clear sense and vigilance carried it through its\ntroubles. His loyalty to St. Andrews at all times was indeed\nunquestioned. It is possible that had he made it his endeavour to\ndevote more interest to practical affairs outside the University\nlimits, it might have been better for himself. There may, perhaps, be\ntruth in the saying that metaphysics is apt to have an enervating\neffect upon the moral senses, or at least upon the practical\nactivities, and to take from men's usefulness in the ordinary affairs\nof life; but one can hardly realise Ferrier other than he was, a\nstudent whose whole interests were devoted to the philosophy he had\nespoused, and who loved to deal with the fundamental questions that\nremained beneath all action and all thought, rather than with those\nmore concrete; and the former lay in a region purely speculative. Such\nas he was, he never failed to preserve the most perfect order in his\nclass, and to do what was required of him with praiseworthy accuracy\nand minute attention to details.\n\n'Life in his study,' says Principal Tulloch, 'was Professor Ferrier's\ncharacteristic life. There have been, I daresay, even in our time,\nharder students than he was; but there could scarcely be anyone who was\nmore habitually a student, who lived more amongst books, and took more\nspecial and constant delight in intercourse with them. In his very\nextensive but choice library he knew every book by head-mark, as he\nwould say, and could lay his hands upon the desired volume at once. It\nwas a great pleasure to him to bring to the light from an obscure\ncorner some comparatively unknown English speculator of whom the\nUniversity library knew nothing.'\n\nWe are often told how he would be found seated in his library clad in a\nlong dressing-gown which clung round his tall form, and making him look\neven taller--a typical philosopher, though perhaps handsomer than many\nof his craft. 'My father rarely went from home,' writes his daughter,\n'and when not in the College class-room was to be found in his snug,\nwell-stocked, ill-bound library, writing or reading, clad in a very\nbecoming dark blue dressing-gown. He was no smoker, but carried with\nhim a small silver snuff-box.'\n\nProfessor Shairp says that now and then he used to go to hear him\nlecture. 'I never saw anything better than his manner towards his\nstudents. There was in it ease, yet dignity so respectful both to them\nand to himself that no one could think of presuming with him. Yet it\nwas unusually kindly, and full of a playful humour which greatly\nattached them to him. No one could be farther removed from either the\nDon or the Disciplinarian. But his look of keen intellect and high\nbreeding, combined with gentleness and feeling for his students,\ncommanded attention more than any discipline could have done. In\nmatters of College discipline, while he was fair and just, he always\nleant to the forbearing side.... Till his illness took a more serious\nform, he was to be met at dinner-parties, to which his society always\ngave a great charm. In general society his conversation was full of\nhumour and playful jokes, and he had a quick yet kindly eye to note the\nextravagances and absurdities of men.' And the Professor goes on to\nnarrate how on a winter afternoon he would fall to talking of Horace,\nan especial favourite of his, and how then he would read the racy and\nunconventional translation he had made up for amusement. And afterwards\nhe would talk of Wordsworth and the feelings he awoke in him, showing\n'a richness of literary knowledge, and a delicacy and keenness of\nappreciation, of which his philosophical writings, except by their fine\nstyle, give no hint.' Hegel and Plato were the favourite objects of his\nstudy. Of the former he never satisfied himself that he had completely\nmastered the conception. But the insight that he had got into his\ndialectic and into the doctrine of Reality contributed very largely to\nmaking his philosophy what it was. He endeavoured to apply the system\nin various directions, and ever continued in his efforts to work it out\nmore fully.\n\nAnother former student, who has been quoted before, writes in his\nRecollections of student life at St. Andrews:[12] 'Ferrier had not\nSpalding's thorough method of teaching. He had no regular time for\nreceiving and correcting essays; he had only one written examination;\nfor oral examination he had an easy way, in which the questions\nsuggested the answers; yet all these drawbacks were atoned for by his\nliving presence. It was an embodiment of literary and philosophical\nenthusiasm, happily blended with sympathy and urbanity. It did the work\nof the most thorough class drill, for it arrested the attention, opened\nthe mind, and filled it with love of learning and wisdom. Intellect and\nhumanity seemed to radiate from his countenance like light and heat,\nand illumined and fascinated all on whom they fell.... Let me recall\nhim as he appeared in the spring of 1854. The eleven-o'clock bell has\nrung. All the other classes have gone in to lecture. We, the students\nof Moral Philosophy, are lingering in the quadrangle, for the\nProfessor, punctual in his unpunctuality, comes in regularly two or\nthree minutes after the hour. Through the archway under the\ntime-honoured steeple of St. Salvator's he approaches--a tall somewhat\nemaciated figure, with intellectual and benevolent countenance. As he\nhurries in we follow and take our seats. In a minute he issues gowned\nfrom his anteroom, seats himself in his chair, and places his silver\nsnuff-box before him. Now that he is without his hat and in his gown,\nhe has a striking appearance. His head is large, well-developed, and\ncovered with thick iron-grey hair; his features are regular, his mouth\nis refined and sensitive, his chin is strong, and his eyes as seen\nbehind his spectacles are keenly intelligent and at the same time\nbenevolent. He begins by calling up a student to be orally examined;\nand the catechising goes on very much in the following style:--\n\n          [12] _Pleasant Recollections of a Busy Life_, by David\n          Pryde, LL.D., p. 59.\n\n'\"_Professor._--Well, Mr. Brown, answer a few questions, if you please.\nWhat is the first proposition of the lectures?\n\n'\"_Student_ repeats it.\n\n'\"_Professor._--Quite right, Mr. Brown. And, Mr. Brown, is this quite\ntrue?\n\n'\"_Stud._--Yes.\n\n'\"_Prof._--Quite right, Mr. Brown. At least, so I think. And, Mr.\nBrown, is it not absurd to hold the reverse?\n\n'\"_Stud._--Yes.\n\n'\"_Prof._--Yes, yes. Thank you, Mr. Brown. That will do.\"\n\n'The Professor then begins his lecture. As long as he is stating and\nproving the propositions in his metaphysical system, his tone is simple\nand matter-of-fact. His great aim is to make his meaning plain, and for\nthat purpose he often expresses an important idea in various ways,\nusing synonyms, and sometimes reading a sentence twice. But when he\ncomes to illustrate his thoughts, his manner changes. He lets loose his\nfancy, his imagination, and even his humour; and his whole soul comes\ninto his voice. His burr, scarcely distinguishable in his ordinary\nspeech, now becomes strong, and his whole utterance is slow, intense,\nand fervid. He is particularly happy in his quotations from the poets,\nand he has a peculiarity in reading them which increases the effect.\nWhen rolling forth a line he sometimes pauses before he comes to the\nend, as if to collect his strength, and then utters the last word or\nwords with redoubled emphasis. The effect of his eloquence on the\nstudents is electrical. They cease to take notes; every head is raised;\nevery face beams with delight; and at the end of a passage their\nfeelings find vent in a thunderstorm of applause.\n\n'The two most remarkable features of his lectures were their method and\nclearness. Order and light were the very elements in which his mind\nlived and moved. He kept this end in view, threw aside the facts that\nwere unnecessary, arranged the facts that were necessary, and expressed\nthem with a precision about which there could be no ambiguity. In fact,\neach idea and the whole chain of ideas were visible by their own light.\nSo perspicuous were the words that they might have been called\ncrystallised thoughts.\n\n'Out of the classroom Ferrier was equally polite and kind, especially\nto those students who showed a love and a capacity for philosophy. It\nwas no uncommon thing for him to stop a student in the street and\ninvite him to the house to have a talk about the work of the class. I\nhave a distant recollection of my first visit to his study; I see him\nyet, with his noble, benignant countenance, as he reads and discusses\npassages in my first essay, gravely reasoning with me on the points\nthat were reasonable, passing lightly over those that were merely\nrhetorical, and smiling good-naturedly at those that attacked in no\nmeasured language his own system.'\n\nProfessor Ferrier was never failing in hospitality to his students as\nto his other friends. Dr. Pryde goes on: 'Every year Ferrier invited\nthe best of his students to dinner. At the dinner at which I was\npresent there were two of his fellow-professors, Sellar and Fischer. It\nwas a great treat for a youth like me. Mrs. Ferrier was effervescent\nwith animal spirits and talk; Ferrier himself, looking like a nobleman\nin his old-fashioned dress-coat with gold buttons, interposed\noccasionally with his subtle touches of wit and humour.' The Professor\nappears to have been an inveterate snuffer. His students used to tell\nhow the silver snuff-box was made the medium of explaining the\nBerkeleian system, and how to their minds the system, fairly clear in\nwords, became a hopeless tangle when the assistance of the snuff-box\nwas resorted to. And Dr. Pryde narrates how he used to see Professor\nSpalding and Professor Ferrier seated side by side in the students'\nbenches, looking on the same book, listening to their young colleague\nProfessor Sellar's inspiring lectures, and at intervals exchanging\nsnuff-boxes. He gives the following account of his last visit to\nFerrier, when he was on his deathbed, but still in his library among\nhis books: 'He told me that his disease was mortal; but face to face\nwith death he was cheerful and contented, and had bated not one jot of\nhis interest in learning and in public events. He was very anxious that\nI should take lunch with Mrs. Ferrier and the rest of the family; and\nthough he could not join us, he sent into the dining-room a special\nbottle of wine as a substitute for himself. Two months afterwards he\nhad passed away.'\n\nTulloch writes after the sad event had occurred:[13] 'I have, of course,\nheard the sad news from St. Andrews. What sadness it has been to me I\ncannot tell you. St. Andrews never can be the same place without\nFerrier. God knows what is to become of the University with all these\nbreaks upon its old society; and where can we supply such a place as\nFerrier's?' And his biographer adds: 'The removal of that delicate and\nclear spirit from a little society in which his position was so\nimportant, and his innate refinement of mind so powerful and beneficial\nan influence, was a loss almost indescribable, not only to the friends\nwho loved him, but to the University. His great reputation was an\nhonour to the place, combining as it did so many associations of the\nbrilliant past with that due to the finest intellectual perception and\nthe most engaging and attractive character. Even his little\nwhimsicalities and strain of quaint humour gave a charm the more; and\nthe closing of the cheerful house, the centre of wit and brightness to\nthe academical community, was a loss which St. Andrews never failed to\nfeel, nor the survivors to lament.'\n\n          [13] _Memoir_, p. 196, by Mrs. Oliphant.\n\nProfessor Ferrier was occasionally called upon to make a visit to\nLondon, although this did not seem to have been by any means a frequent\noccurrence. Business he must occasionally have had there, for in 1861\nhe was appointed to examine in the London University, and in 1863,\nshortly before his death, the Society of Arts offered him an\nexaminership in Logic and Mental Science, in place of the late\nArchbishop of York, which he accepted. But of one visit which he paid\nin 1858, with Principal Tulloch as joint delegate from the University\nof St. Andrews, Mrs. Oliphant gives an amusing account, in her _Memoir\nof Principal Tulloch_.[14] The object of the deputation was to watch the\nprogress of the University Bill through the House of Commons. This Bill\nwas one of the earliest efforts after regulating the studies, degrees,\netc., of the Scottish Universities, and also dealt with an increase in\nthe Parliamentary grant which, if it passed, would considerably affect\nthe Professors' incomes as well as the resources of the University. The\nBill, which was under the charge of Lord Advocate Inglis (afterwards\nLord Justice-General of Scotland), likewise provided that in each\nUniversity a University Court should be established, as also a\nUniversity Council composed of graduates. Ferrier and Tulloch no doubt\ndid their part in the business which they had in hand: they visited all\nthe Members of Parliament who were likely to be interested, as other\nScottish deputations have done before and since, and received the same\nevasive and varying replies. But in the evenings, and when they were\nfree, they entertained themselves in different fashion. First of all,\nthey have hardly arrived after their long night's journey's travel\nbefore they burst upon the 'trim and well-ordered room where Mr. John\nBlackwood and his wife were seated at breakfast'--this evidently at\nFerrier's instigation. Then, having settled in Duke Street, St.\nJames's, they are asked, rather inappropriately, it would seem, to a\nball, where they were 'equally impressed by the size of the crinoline\nand the absence of beauty.' Next Cremorne was visited, Tulloch\ndeclaring that his object was to take care of his companion. 'If you\nhad seen Ferrier as he gazed frae him with the half-amused,\nhalf-scowling expression he not unfrequently assumes, looking bored,\nand yet with a vague philosophical interest at the wonderful expanse of\ngay dresses and fresh womanhood around him!' 'He will go nowhere\nwithout a cab; to-day for the first time I got him into an omnibus in\nsearch of an Aberdeen Professor, a wild and wandering distance which we\nthought we never should reach.' The theatre was visited, too; Lear was\nbeing played, very possibly by Charles Kean. In the Royal Academy,\nFrith's Derby Day was the attraction of the year. But quite remarkable\nwas the interest which Ferrier--who did not appreciate in general\n'going to church,' and used to say he preferred to sit and listen to\nthe faint sounds of the organ from the quiet of his room--betrayed in\nthe eloquence of Spurgeon, then at the height of his fame and\nattracting enormous congregations round him in the Surrey Garden\nTheatre. Tulloch wrote to his wife: 'We have just been to hear\nSpurgeon, and have been both so much impressed that I write to give you\nmy impressions while they are fresh. As we came out we both confessed,\n\"There is no doubt about _that_,\" and I was struck with Ferrier's\nremarkable expression, \"I feel it would do me good to hear the like of\nthat, it sat so close to reality.\" The sermon is about the most real\nthing I have come in contact with for a long time.' The building was\nlarge and airy, with window-doors from which you could walk into the\ngardens beyond, and Ferrier, Tulloch writes, now and then took a turn\nin the fresh air outside while the sermon was progressing.\n\n          [14] P. 127.\n\nAfter London, Oxford was visited, and here the friends lived at Balliol\nwith Mr. Jowett, who had not yet become the Master. Ferrier would\ndoubtless delight in showing to his friend the beauties of the place\nwith which he had so many memories, but to attend eight-o'clock chapel\nwith Tulloch was, the latter tells us, beyond the limits of his zeal.\nJust before this, in 1857, another visit was paid by Ferrier to Oxford\nwith his family, and this time to visit Lady Grant, the mother of his\nfuture son-in-law. It was at Commemoration-time, we are told, and a\nball was given in honour of the party. On this occasion Ferrier for the\nfirst time met Professor Jowett, besides many other kindred spirits,\nand he thoroughly enjoyed wandering about the old haunts at Magdalen,\nwhere in his youth he had pelted the deer and played the part of a\nyoung and thoughtless gownsman.\n\nA little book was published some years ago, on behoof of the St.\nAndrews Students' Union, entitled _Speculum Universitatis_, in which\nformer students and _alumni_ piously record their recollections of\ntheir _Alma Mater_. Some of these papers bring before us very vividly\nthe sort of impression which the life left upon the lads, drawn\ntogether from all manner of home surroundings, and equally influenced\nby the memories of the past and the living presence of those who were\nthe means of opening up new tracts of knowledge to their view. One of\nthem, already often quoted, says in a paper called 'The Light of Long\nAgo': 'I always sink into the conviction that the St. Andrews United\nCollege was never so well worth attending as during the days when in\nits classrooms Duncan taught Mathematics, Spalding taught Logic, and\nFerrier taught Metaphysics and Moral Science, illustrating living\nliterature in his literary style, and in the strange tones, pauses, and\ninflections of his voice. To the field of literature and speculation\nFerrier restored glimpses of the sunshine of Paradise. Under his\nmagical spell they ceased to look like fields that had been cursed with\nweeds, watered with sweat and tears, and levelled and planted with\nuntold labour. Every utterance of his tended alike to disclose the\nbeauty and penetrate the mystery of existence. He was a persevering\nphilosopher, but he was also a poet by a gift of nature. The burden of\nthis most unintelligible world did not oppress him, nor any other\nburden. Intellectual action proving the riddles of reason was a joy to\nhim. He loved philosophy and poetry for their own sake, and he infected\nothers with a kindred, but not an equal, passion. He could jest and\nlaugh and play. If he ever discovered that much study is a weariness of\nthe flesh, he most effectually concealed that discovery.'\n\nAnd to conclude, we have the testimony of another former student who is\nnow distinguished in the fields of literature, but who always remains\nfaithful to his home of early days. Mr. Andrew Lang says: 'Professor\nFerrier's lectures on Moral Philosophy were the most interesting and\ninspiriting that I ever listened to either at Oxford or St. Andrews. I\nlooked on Mr. Ferrier with a kind of mysterious reverence, as on the\nlast of the golden chain of great philosophers. There was, I know not\nwhat of dignity, of humour, and of wisdom in his face; there was an air\nof the student, the vanquisher of difficulties, the discoverer of\nhidden knowledge, in him that I have seen in no other. His method at\nthat time was to lecture on the History of Philosophy, and his manner\nwas so persuasive that one believed firmly in the tenets of each school\nhe described, till he advanced those of the next! Thus the whole\nhistorical evolution of thought went on in the mind of each of his\nlisteners.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nLIFE AT ST. ANDREWS\n\n\nIn an old-world town like St. Andrews the stately, old-world Moral\nPhilosophy Professor must have seemed wonderfully in his place. There\nare men who, good-looking in youth, become 'ordinary-looking' in later\nyears, but Ferrier's looks were not of such a kind. To the last--of\ncourse he was not an old man when he died--he preserved the same\ndistinguished appearance that we are told marked him out from amongst\nhis fellows while still a youth. The tall figure, clad in\nold-fashioned, well-cut coat and white duck trousers, the close-shaven\nface, and merry twinkle about the eye signifying a sense of humour\nwhich removed him far from anything which we associate with the name of\npedant; the dignity, when dignity was required, and yet the sympathy\nalways ready to be extended to the student, however far he was from\ntaking up the point, if he were only trying his best to comprehend--all\nthis made up to those who knew him, the man, the scholar, and the\nhigh-bred gentleman, which, in no ordinary or conventional sense,\nProfessor Ferrier was. It is the personality which, when years have\npassed and individual traits have been forgotten, it is so difficult to\nreproduce. The personal attraction, the atmosphere of culture and\nchivalry, which was always felt to hang about the Professor, has not\nbeen forgotten by those who can recall him in the old St. Andrews days;\nbut who can reproduce this charm, or do more than state its existence\nas a fact? Perhaps this sort only comes to those whose life is mainly\nintellectual--who have not much, comparatively speaking, to suffer from\nthe rough and tumble to which the 'practical' man is subjected in the\ncourse of his career. Sometimes it is said that those who preach high\nmaxims of philosophy and conduct belie their doctrines in their outward\nlives; but on the whole, when we review their careers, this would\nwonderfully seldom seem to be the case. From Socrates' time onwards we\nhave had philosophers who have taught virtue and practised it\nsimultaneously, and in no case has this combination been better\nexemplified in recent days than in that of James Frederick Ferrier, and\none who unsuccessfully contested his chair upon his death, Thomas Hill\nGreen, Professor of Moral Philosophy at Oxford. It seems as though it\nmay after all be good to speculate on the deep things of the earth as\nwell as to do the deeds of righteousness.\n\nIf the saying is true, that the happiest man is he who is without a\nhistory, then Ferrier has every claim to be enrolled in the ranks of\nthose who have attained their end. For happiness _was_ an end to\nFerrier: he had no idea of practising virtue in the abstract, and\nfinding a sufficiency in this. He believed, however, that the happiness\nto be sought for was the happiness of realising our highest aims, and\nthe aim he put before him he very largely succeeded in attaining. His\nlife was what most people would consider monotonous enough: few events\noutside the ordinary occurrences of family and University life broke in\nupon its tranquil course. Unlike the custom of some of his colleagues,\nsummer and winter alike were passed by Ferrier in the quaint old\nsea-bound town. He lived there largely for his work and books. Not that\nhe disliked society; he took the deepest interest even in his\ndinner-parties, and whether as a host or as a guest, was equally\ndelightful as a companion or as a talker. But in his books he found his\nreal life; he would take them down to table, and bed he seldom reached\ntill midnight was passed by two hours at least. One who knew and cared\nfor him, the attractive wife of one of his colleagues, who spent ten\nsessions at St. Andrews before distinguishing the Humanity Chair in\nEdinburgh, tells how the West Park house had something about its\natmosphere that marked it out as unique--something which was due in\ngreat measure to the cultured father, but also to the bright and witty\nmother and the three beautiful young daughters, who together formed a\nhousehold by itself, and one which made the grey old town a different\nplace to those who lived in it.\n\nFerrier, as we have seen, had many distinguished colleagues in the\nUniversity. Besides Professor Sellar, who held the Chair of Greek,\nthere was the Principal of St. Mary's (Principal Tulloch), Professor\nShairp, then Professor of Latin, and later on the Principal; the Logic\nProfessor, Veitch, Sir David Brewster, Principal of the United\nColleges, and others. But the society was unconventional in the\nextreme. The salaries were not large: including fees, the ordinance of\nthe Scottish Universities Commission appointing the salaries of\nProfessors in 1861, estimates the salary of the professorship of Moral\nPhilosophy at St. Andrews at \u00a3444, 18s., and the Principal only\nreceived about \u00a3100 more. But there were not those social customs and\nconventions to maintain that succeed in making life on a small income\nirksome in a larger city. All were practically on the same level in the\nUniversity circle, and St. Andrews was not invaded by so large an army\nof golfing visitors then as now, though the game of course was played\nwith equal keenness and enthusiasm. Professor Ferrier took no part in\nthis or other physical amusement: possibly it had been better for him\nhad he left his books and study at times to do so. The friend spoken of\nabove tells, however, of the merry parties who walked home after dining\nout, the laughing protests which she made against the Professor's rash\nstatement (in allusion to his theory of _perception-mecum_) that _she_\nwas 'unredeemed nonsense' without _him_; the way in which, when an idea\nstruck him, he would walk to her house with his daughter, regardless of\nthe lateness of the hour, and throw pebbles at the lighted bedroom\nwindows to gain admittance--and of course a hospitable supper; how she,\nknowing that a tablemaid was wanted in the Ferrier establishment,\ndressed up as such and interviewed the mistress, who found her highly\nsatisfactory but curiously resembling her friend Mrs. Sellar; and how\nwhen this was told her husband, he exclaimed, 'Why, of course it's she\ndressed up; let us pursue her,' which was done with good effect! All\nthese tales, and many others like them, show what the homely, sociable,\nand yet cultured life was like--a life such as we in this country\nseldom have experience of: perhaps that of a German University town may\nmost resemble it. In spite of being in many ways a recluse, Ferrier was\never a favourite with his students, just because he treated them, not\nwith familiarity indeed, but as gentlemen like himself. Other\nProfessors were cheered when they appeared in public, but the loudest\ncheers were always given to Ferrier.\n\nMrs. Ferrier's brilliant personality many can remember who knew her\nduring her widowhood in Edinburgh. She had inherited many of her\nfather, 'Christopher North's' physical and mental gifts, shown in looks\nand wit. A friend of old days writes: 'She was a queen in St. Andrews,\nat once admired for her wit, her eloquence, her personal charms, and\ndreaded for her free speech, her powers of ridicule, and her withering\nmimicry. Faithful, however, to her friends, she was beloved by them,\nand they will lament her now as one of the warmest-hearted and most\nhighly-gifted of her sex.' Mrs. Ferrier never wrote for\npublication,--she is said to have scorned the idea,--but those who knew\nher never can forget the flow of eloquence, the wit and satire mingled,\nthe humorous touches and the keen sense of fun that characterised her\ntalk; for she was one of an era of brilliant talkers that would seem to\nhave passed away. Mrs. Ferrier's capacity for giving appropriate\nnicknames was well known: Jowett, afterwards Master of Balliol, she\nchristened the 'little downy owl.' Her husband's philosophy she\ngraphically described by saying that 'it made you feel as if you were\nsitting up on a cloud with nothing on, a lucifer match in your hand,\nbut nothing to strike it on,'--a description appealing vividly to many\nwho have tried to master it!\n\nIn many ways she seemed a link with the past of bright memories in\nScotland, when these links were very nearly severed. Five children in\nall were born to her; of her sons one, now dead, inherited many of his\nfather's gifts. Her elder daughter, Lady Grant, the wife of Sir\nAlexander Grant, Principal of the Edinburgh University and a\ndistinguished classical scholar, likewise succeeded to much of her\nmother's grace and charm as well as of her father's accomplishments.\nUnder the initials 'O. J.' she was in the habit of contributing\ndelightful humorous sketches to _Blackwood's Magazine_--the magazine\nwhich her father and her grandfather had so often contributed to in\ntheir day; but her life was not a long one: she died in 1895, eleven\nyears after her husband, and while many possibilities seemed still\nbefore her.\n\nPerhaps we might try to picture to ourselves the life in which Ferrier\nplayed so prominent a part in the only real University town of which\nScotland can boast. For it is in St. Andrews that the traditional\ndistinctions between the College and the University are maintained,\nthat there is the solemn stillness which befits an ancient seat of\nlearning, that every step brings one in view of some monument of ages\nthat are past and gone, and that we are reminded not only of the\nlearning of our ancestors, of their piety and devotion to the College\nthey built and endowed, but of the secular history of our country as\nwell. In this, at least, the little University of the North has an\nadvantage over her rich and powerful rivals, inasmuch as there is\nhardly any important event which has taken place in Scottish history\nbut has left its mark upon the place. No wonder the love of her\nstudents to the _Alma Mater_ is proverbial. In Scotland we have little\nleft to tell us of the medi\u00e6val church and life, so completely has the\nReformation done its work, and so thoroughly was the land cleared of\nits 'popish images'; and hence we value what little there remains to us\nall the more. And the University of St. Andrews, the oldest of our\nseats of learning, has come down to us from medi\u00e6val days. It was\nfounded by a Catholic bishop in 1411, about a century after the\ndedication of the Cathedral, now, of course, a ruin. But it is to the\ngood Bishop Kennedy who established the College of St. Salvator, one of\nthe two United Colleges of later times, that we ascribe most honour in\nreference to the old foundation. Not only did he build the College on\nthe site which was afterwards occupied by the classrooms in which\nFerrier and his colleagues taught, but he likewise endowed them with\nvestments and rich jewels, including amongst their numbers a\nbeautifully chased silver mace which may still be seen. Of the old\nCollege buildings there is but the chapel and janitor's house now\nexisting; within the chapel, which is modernised and used for\nPresbyterian service, is the ancient founder's tomb. The quadrangle,\nafter the Reformation, fell into disrepair, and the present buildings\nare comparatively of recent date. The next College founded--that of St.\nLeonard--which became early imbued with Reformation principles, was, in\nthe eighteenth century, when its finances had become low, incorporated\nwith St. Salvator's, and when conjoined they were in Ferrier's time, as\nnow, known as the 'United College.' Besides the United College there\nwas a third and last College, called St. Mary's. Though founded by the\nlast of the Catholic bishops before the Reformation, it was\nsubsequently presided over by the anti-prelatists Andrew Melville and\nSamuel Rutherford. St. Mary's has always been devoted to the study of\ntheology.\n\nBut the history of her colleges is not all that has to be told of the\nancient city. Association it has with nearly all who have had to do\nwith the making of our history--the good Queen Margaret, Beaton, and,\nabove all, Queen Mary and her great opponent Knox. The ruined Castle\nhas many tales to tell could stones and trees have tongues--stories of\nbloodshed, of battle, of the long siege when Knox was forced to yield\nto France and be carried to the galleys. After the murder of Archbishop\nSharp, and the revolution of 1688, the town once so prosperous dwindled\naway, and decayed into an unimportant seaport. There is curiously\nlittle attractive about its situation in many regards. It is out of the\nway, difficult of access once upon a time, and even now not on a main\nline of rail, too near the great cities, and yet at the same time too\nfar off. The coast is dangerous for fishermen, and there is no harbour\nthat can be called such. No wonder, it seems, that the town became\nneglected and insanitary, that Dr. Johnson speaks of 'the silence and\nsolitude of inactive indigence and gloomy depopulation,' and left it\nwith 'mournful images.' But if St. Andrews had its drawbacks, it had\nstill more its compensations. It had its links--the long stretch of\nsandhills spread far along the coast, and bringing crowds of visitors\nto the town every summer as it comes round; and for the pursuit of\nlearning the remoteness of position has some advantages. Even at its\nworst the University showed signs of its recuperative powers. Early in\nthe century Chalmers was assistant to the Professor of Mathematics, and\nthen occupied the Chair of Moral Philosophy (that chair to which\nFerrier was afterwards appointed), and drew crowds of students round\nhim. Then came a time of innovation. If in 1821 St. Andrews was badly\npaved, ill-lighted, and ruinous, an era of reform set in. New\nclassrooms were built, the once neglected library was added to and\nrearranged, and the town was put to rights through an energetic\nprovost, Major, afterwards Sir Hugh, Lyon Playfair. He made 'crooked\nplaces straight' in more senses than one, swept away the 'middens' that\npolluted the air, saw to the lighting and paving of the streets, and\ngenerally brought about the improvements which we expect to find in a\nmodern town. 'On being placed in the civic chair, he had found the\nstreets unpaved, uneven, overgrown with weeds, and dirty; the ruins of\nthe time-honoured Cathedral and Castle used as a quarry for greedy and\nsacrilegious builders, and the University buildings falling into\ndisrepair; and he had resolved to change all this. With persistency\nalmost unexampled, he had employed all the arts of persuasion and\ncompulsion upon those who had the power to remedy these abuses. He had\ndunned, he had coaxed, he had bantered, he had bargained, he had\nborrowed, he had begged; and he had been successful. In 1851 the\nstreets were paved and clean, the fine old ruins were declared sacred,\nand the dilapidated parts of the University buildings had been replaced\nby a new edifice. And he--the Major, as he was called--a little man,\nwhite-haired, shaggy-eyebrowed, blue-eyed, red-faced, with his hat\ncocked on the side of his head, and a stout cane in his hand, walked\nabout in triumph, the uncrowned king of the place.'[15]\n\n          [15] _Pleasant Memories_, by David Pryde, LL.D.\n\nOf this same renovating provost, it is told that one day he dropped in\nto see the Moral Philosophy Professor, who, however deeply engaged with\nhis books, was always ready to receive his visitors. 'Well, Major, I\nhave just completed the great work of my life. In this book I claim to\nmake philosophy intelligible to the meanest understanding.' Playfair at\nonce requested to hear some of it read aloud. Ferrier reluctantly\nstarted to read in his slow, emphatic way, till the Major became\nfidgety; still he went on, till Playfair started to his feet. 'I say,\nFerrier, do you mean to say this is intelligible to the meanest\nunderstanding?' 'Do you understand it, Major?' 'Yes, I think I do.'\n'Then, Major, I'm satisfied.'\n\nOf the social life, Mrs. Oliphant says in her _Life of Principal\nTulloch_: 'The society, I believe, was more stationary than it has been\nsince, and more entirely disposed to make of St. Andrews the\npleasantest and brightest of abiding-places. Sir David Brewster was\nstill throned in St. Leonard's. Professor Ferrier, with his witty and\nbrilliant wife--he full of quiet humour, she of wildest wit, a mimic of\nalarming and delightful power, with something of the countenance and\nmuch of the genius of her father, the great \"Christopher North\" of\n_Blackwood's Magazine_--made the brightest centre of social mirth and\nmeetings. West Park, their pleasant home, at the period which I record\nit, was ever open, ever sounding with gay voices and merry laughter,\nwith a boundless freedom of talk and comment, and an endless stream of\ngood company. Professor Ferrier himself was one of the greatest\nmetaphysicians of his time--the first certainly in Scotland; but this\nwas perhaps less upon the surface than a number of humorous ways which\nwere the delight of his friends, many quaint abstractions proper to his\nphilosophic character, and a happy friendliness and gentleness along\nwith his wit, which gave his society a continual charm.' Professor\nKnight, who now occupies Ferrier's place in the professoriate of St.\nAndrews, in his _Life of Professor Shairp_, quotes from a paper of\nreminiscences by Professor Sellar: 'The centre of all the intellectual\nand social life of the University and of the town was Professor\nFerrier. He inspired in the students a feeling of affectionate devotion\nas well as admiration, such as I have hardly ever known inspired by any\nteacher; and to many of them his mere presence and bearing in the\nclassroom was a large element in a liberal education. By all his\ncolleagues he was esteemed as a man of most sterling honour, a staunch\nfriend, and a most humorous and delightful companion.... There\ncertainly never was a household known to either of us in which the\nspirit of racy and original humour and fun was so exuberant and\nspontaneous in every member of it, as that of which the Professor and\nhis wife--the most gifted and brilliant, and most like her father of\nthe three gifted daughters of \"Christopher North\"--were the heads. Our\nevenings there generally ended in the Professor's study, where he was\nalways ready to discuss, either from a serious or humorous point of\nview (not without congenial accompaniment), the various points of his\nsystem till the morning was well advanced.'\n\nFerrier's daughter writes of the house at West Park: 'It was an\nold-fashioned, rough cast or \"harled\" house standing on the road in\nMarket Street, but approached through a small green gate and a short\navenue of trees--trees that were engraven on the heart and memory from\nchildhood. The garden at the back still remains. In our time it was a\nreal old-fashioned Scotch garden, well stocked with \"berries,\" pears,\nand apples; quaint grass walks ran through it, and a summer-house with\nstained-glass windows stood in a corner. West Park was built on a site\nonce occupied by the Grey Friars, and I am not romancing when I say\nthat bones and coins were known to have been discovered in the garden\neven in our time. Our home was socially a very amusing and happy one,\nthough my father lived a good deal apart from us, coming down from his\ndear old library occasionally in the evenings to join the family\ncircle.' This family circle was occasionally supplemented by a French\nteacher or a German, and for one year by a certain Mrs. Huggins, an old\nex-actress who originally came to give a Shakespeare reading in St.\nAndrews, and who fell into financial difficulties, and was invited by\nthe hospitable Mrs. Ferrier to make her home for a time at West Park.\nThe visit was not in all respects a success, Mrs. Huggins being\nsomewhat exacting in her requirements and difficult to satisfy. So\nlittle part did its master take in household matters that it was only\nby accident, after reading prayers one Sunday evening, that he noticed\nher presence. On inquiring who the stranger was, Mrs. Ferrier replied,\n'Oh, that is Mrs. Huggins.' 'Then what is her avocation?' 'To read\nShakespeare and draw your window-curtains,' said the ever-ready Mrs.\nFerrier! The children of the house were brought up to love the stage\nand everyone pertaining to it, and whenever a strolling company came to\nSt. Andrews the Ferriers were the first to attend their play. The same\ndaughter writes that when children their father used to thrill them\nwith tales of Burke and Hare, the murderers and resurrectionists whose\ndoings brought about a reign of terror in Edinburgh early in the\ncentury. As a boy, Ferrier used to walk out to his grandfather's in\nMorningside--then a country suburb--in fear and trembling, expecting\nevery moment to meet Burke, the object of his terror. On one occasion\nhe believed that he had done so, and skulked behind a hedge and lay\ndown till the scourge of Edinburgh passed by. In 1828 he witnessed his\nhanging in the Edinburgh prison. Professor Wilson, his father-in-law,\nit may be recollected, spoke out his mind about the famous Dr. Knox in\nthe _Noctes_ as well as in his classroom, and it was a well-known fact\nthat his favourite Newfoundland dog Bront\u00eb was poisoned by the students\nas an act of retaliation.\n\nMurder trials had always a fascination for Ferrier. On one occasion he\nread aloud to his children De Quincey's essay, 'Murder as a Fine Art,'\nwhich so terrified his youngest daughter that she could hardly bring\nherself to leave her father's library for bed. Somewhat severe to his\nsons, to his daughters Ferrier was specially kind and indulgent,\nhelping them with their German studies, reading Schiller's plays to\nthem, and when little children telling them old-world fairy tales. A\npresent of Grimm's Tales, brought by her father after a visit to\nLondon, was, she tells us, a never-to-be-forgotten joy to the\nrecipient.\n\nThe charm of the West Park house was spoken of by all the numerous\nyoung men permitted to frequent its hospitable board. There was a\nwonderful concoction known by the name of 'Bishop,' against whose\nattraction one who suffered by its potency says that novices were\nwarned, more especially in view of a certain sunk fence in the\nimmediate vicinity which had afterwards to be avoided. The jokes that\npassed at these entertainments, which were never dull, are past and\ngone,--their piquancy would be gone even could they be reproduced,--but\nthe impression left on the minds of those who shared in them is\nineffaceable, and is as vivid now as forty years ago.\n\nThere was a custom, now almost extinct, of keeping books of so-called\n'Confessions,' in which the contributors had the rather formidable task\nof filling up their likes or dislikes for the entertainment of their\nowners. In Mrs. Sellar's album Ferrier made several interesting\n'confessions'--whether we take them _au grand s\u00e9rieux_ or only as\nplayful jests with a grain of truth behind. Here are some of the\nquestions and their answers.\n\n               Question.                         Answer.\n\n    Your favourite character in           Socrates.\n      history.\n\n    The character you most dislike.       Calvin.\n\n    Your favourite kind of literature.    _The Arabian Nights._\n\n    Your favourite author.                Hegel.\n\n    Your favourite occupation and         Driving with a handsome\n      amusement.                            woman.\n\n    Those you dislike most.               Fishing, walking, and\n                                            dancing.\n\n    Your favourite topics of              Humorous and tender.\n      conversation.\n\n    Those you dislike most.               Statistical and personal.\n\n    Your ambition.                        To reach the Truth.\n\n    Your ideal.                           Always to pay ready money.\n\n    Your hobby.                           Peacemaking.\n\n    The virtue you most admire.           Reasonableness.\n\n    The vices to which you are            The world, the flesh, and\n      most lenient.                         the devil.\n\nThese last two answers are very characteristic of Ferrier's point of\nview in later days. He was above all reasonable--no ascetic who could\nnot understand the temptations of the world, but one who enjoyed its\npleasures, saw the humorous side of life, appreciated the \u00e6sthetic, and\nyet kept the dictates of reason ever before his mind. And his ambition\nto reach the Truth\n\n                  'Differed from a host\n    Of aims alike in character and kind,\n    Mostly in this--that in itself alone\n    Shall its reward be, not an alien end\n    Blending therewith.'\n\nThus, like Paracelsus, he aspired.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nLAST DAYS\n\n\nIt used to be said that none can be counted happy until they die, and\ncertainly the manner of a man's death often throws light upon his\nprevious life, and enables us to judge it as we should not otherwise\nhave been able to do. Ferrier's death was what his life had been: it\nwas with calm courage that he looked it in the face--the same calm\ncourage with which he faced the perhaps even greater problems of life\nthat presented themselves. Death had no terrors to him; he had lived in\nthe consciousness that it was an essential factor in life, and a factor\nwhich was not ever to be overlooked. And he had every opportunity,\nphysically speaking, for expecting its approach. In November 1861 he\nhad a violent seizure of _angina pectoris_, after which, although he\ntemporarily recovered, he never completely regained his strength. For\nsome weeks he was unable to meet his students, and then, when partially\nrecovered, he arranged to hold the class in the dining-room of his\nhouse, which was fitted up specially for the purpose. Twice in the year\n1863 was he attacked in a similar way; in June of that year he went up\nto London to conduct the examination in philosophy of the students of\nthe London University; but in October, when he ought to have gone there\nonce more, he was unable to carry out his intention. On the 31st of\nOctober, Dr. Christison was consulted about his state, and pronounced\nhis case to be past hope of remedy. He opened his class on the 11th of\nNovember in his own house, but during this month was generally confined\nto bed. On the 8th of December he was attacked by congestion of the\nbrain, and never lectured again. His class was conducted by Mr.\nRhoades,[16] then Warden of the recently-founded College Hall, who, as\nmany others among his colleagues would have been ready to do, willingly\nundertook the melancholy task of officiating for so beloved and\nhonoured a friend. After this, all severe study and mental exertion was\nforbidden. He became gradually weaker, with glimpses now and then of\ntransitory improvement. So in unfailing courage and resignation, not\nunwilling to hope for longer respite, but always prepared to die, he\nplacidly, reverently, awaited the close, tended by the watchful care of\nhis devoted wife and children.[17] On the 11th day of June 1864, Ferrier\npassed away. He is buried in Edinburgh, in the old churchyard of St.\nCuthbert's, in the heart of the city, near his father and his\ngrandfather, and many others whose names are famous in the annals of\nhis country.\n\n          [16] Afterwards Ferrier's son-in-law.\n\n          [17] _Lectures and Philosophical Remains_, Introductory\n          Notes, p. xxii.\n\nDuring these three years, in which death had been a question of but a\nshort time, Ferrier had not ceased to be busy and interested in his\nwork. The dates of his lectures on Greek Philosophy show that he had\nnot failed to carry on the work of bringing them into shape, and though\nthe wish could not be accomplished in its entirety, it speaks much for\nhis resolution and determination that through all his bodily weakness\nhe kept his work in hand. Of course much had to be forgone. Ferrier was\nnever what is called robust, and his manner of life was not conducive\nto physical health, combining as it did late hours with lack of\nphysical exercise. But in these later years he was unable to walk more\nthan the shortest distance, the ascent of a staircase was an effort to\nhim, and tendencies to asthma developed which must have made his life\noften enough a physical pain. Still, though it was evident that there\ncould be but one ending to the struggle, Ferrier gave expression to no\ncomplaints, and though he might, as Principal Tulloch says, utter a\nhalf-playful, half-grim expression regarding his sufferings, he never\nseemed to think there was anything strange in them, anything that he\nshould not bear calmly as a man and as a Christian. Nor did he talk of\nchange of scene or climate as likely to give relief. He 'quietly,\nsteadily, and cheerfully' faced the issue, be it what it might. The\nvery day before he died, he was, we are told, in his library, busy\namongst his books. Truly, it may be said of him as of another cut off\nwhile yet in his prime, 'he died learning.'\n\n'Towards his friends during this time,' says his biographer, 'all\nthat was sweetest in his disposition seemed to gain strength and\nexpansion from the near shadow of death. He spoke of death with\nentire fearlessness, and though this was nothing new to those who\nknew him best, it impressed their minds at this time more vividly\nthan ever. The less they dared to hope for his life being prolonged,\nthe more their love and regard were deepened by his tender\nthoughtfulness for others, and the kindliness which annihilated all\nabsorbing concern for himself. In many little characteristic touches of\nhumour, frankness, beneficence, beautiful gratitude for any slight help\nor attention, his truest and best nature seemed to come out all the\nmore freely; he grew as it were more and more entirely himself indeed.\nIf ever a man was true to philosophy, or a man's philosophy true to\nhim, it was so with Ferrier during all the time when he looked death in\nthe face and possessed his soul in patience.' And, as so often happens\nwhen the things of this world are regarded _sub specie \u00e6ternitatis_,\nthe old animosities, such as they were, faded away. It is told how a\nformer opponent on philosophical questions whose criticisms he had\nresented, called to inquire for him, and when the card was given to\nhim, Ferrier exclaimed, 'That must be a good fellow!' Principal\nTulloch, his friend and for ten years his colleague, was with him\nconstantly, and talked often to him about his work--the work on Plato\nand his philosophy, that he would have liked to accomplish in order to\ncomplete his lectures. The summer before his death they read together\nsome of Plato's dialogues which he had carefully pencilled with his\nnotes. He also took to reading Virgil, in which occupation his friend\nfrequently joined with him, and this seemed to relieve the languor from\nwhich he suffered. As to religion, which was a subject on which he\nthought much, although he did not frequently express an opinion,\nTulloch says: 'He was unable to feel much interest in any of its\npopular forms, but he had a most intense interest in its great\nmysteries, and a thorough reverence for its truths when these were not\ndisfigured by superstition and formalism.' Immortality, as we have\nseen, meant to him that there is a permanent and abiding element beyond\nthe merely particular and individual which must pass away, and so far\nit was a reality in his mind. God was a real presence in the world, and\nnot a far away divinity in whom men believed but whom they could not\nknow; but as to the creeds and doctrines of the Church, they seemed far\nremoved from the Essential, from true Reality. Professor (afterwards\nPrincipal) Shairp writes: 'In the visits which I made to his bedroom\nfrom time to time, when I found him sometimes on chair or sofa,\nsometimes in bed, I never heard one peevish or complaining word escape\nhim, nothing but what was calm and cheerful, though to himself as to\nothers it was evident that the outward man was fast perishing. The last\ntime but one that I saw him was on a Sunday in April. He was sitting up\nin bed. The conversation fell on serious subjects, on the craving the\nsoul feels for some strength and support out from and above itself, on\nthe certainty that all men feel that need, and on the testimony left by\nthose who have tried it most, that they had found that need met by Him\nof whose earthly life the gospel histories bear witness. This, or\nsomething like this, was the subject on which our conversation turned.\nHe paused and dwelt on the thought of the soul's hunger. \"Hunger is the\ngreat weaver in moral things as in physical. The hunger that is in the\nnew-born child sits weaving the whole bodily frame, bones and sinews,\nout of nothing. And so I suppose in moral and spiritual things it is\nhunger that builds up the being.\"'\n\nProfessor Veitch, a later colleague at St. Andrews, adds: 'We miss the\nfinely-cut decisive face, the erect manly presence, the measured\nmeditative step, the friendly greeting. But there are men, and Ferrier\nwas one of them, for whom, once known, there is no real past. The\ncharacteristic features and qualities of such men become part of our\nconscious life; memory keeps them before us living and influential, in\na higher, truer present which overshadows the actual and visible.' And\nProfessor Baynes speaks of him as one of the noblest and most\npure-hearted men that he had ever known, combining 'a fine ethereal\nintelligence with a most gallant, tender, and courageous spirit.'\n\nSuch is the man as he presented himself to his friends even when the\nshadows were darkening and the last long journey coming very near: a\ntrue man and a good; one in whose footsteps we fain would tread, one\nwho makes it easier for those who follow him to tread them too. His\nwork was done; it might seem unfinished--what work is ever complete?\nBut he had taken his share in it, the little bit that any individual\nman can do, and had done it with all his strength. And what did it\namount to? Was it worth the labour of so many years of toil? Who is\nthere who can reply? And yet we can see something of what has been\naccomplished; we can see that philosophy has been made a more living\nthing for Scotland, that a blow has been struck against materialistic\ncreeds, or beliefs which are merely formal and without any true\nconvincing power. It may not have been much: the work was but begun,\nand it was left to others to carry that work on. But in philosophy, as\nin the rest, it is the first step that costs, and amid great difficulty\nand considerable opposition Ferrier took that step. He left much\nunexplained; he dwelt too much in the clouds, and did not try to solve\nthe real difficulties of personal, individual life; he did not show how\nhis high-flown theories worked in a world of strife and struggle, of\nsin and sorrow. He could only be said to have struck a keynote, but\nthat keynote as far as it went was true, and the harmonies may be left\nto follow.\n\n\n\n\n\"FAMOUS SCOTS\" SERIES.\n\n_Some Opinions of the Press on_\n\nADAM SMITH.\n\nBY HECTOR C. MACPHERSON.\n\n\n\"The style is pleasant, and the treatment luminous. The monograph, as a\nwhole, should be found attractive and informing.\"--_Globe._\n\n\"Smith's life is briefly and clearly told, and there is a good deal\nof independent criticism interspersed amidst the chapters on the\nphilosopher's two principal treatises. Mr. Macpherson's analysis of\nSmith's economic teaching makes excellent reading.\"--_Echo._\n\n\"His personal and intellectual career, so far as the limits of the\n'Famous Scots' Series permitted, is clearly and entertainingly\npresented by Mr. Macpherson.\"--_Morning Leader._\n\n\"The book is of great price. It is complete, proportioned, vivid,\nthe picture of a great man, and with all its brevity, worthy of his\ngreatness.\"--_Expository Times._\n\n\"Interesting both as a contribution to the literature of political\neconomy, and as a sketch of the career of one of Scotland's most\nillustrious sons.\"--_Publishers' Circular._\n\n\"The monograph is a clear and able exposition and criticism of its\nsubject. It deserves a prominent place in the series it belongs\nto.\"--_Bookman._\n\n\"An interesting and lively study of the English founder of political\neconomy, this little book is remarkable as a whole-hearted vindication\nof the Cobdenic ideas of international policy. The author considers it\nto be Adam Smith's chief achievement that he has demonstrated with\nscientific completeness that Free Trade, as Cobden happily expressed\nit, is the international law of God Almighty.\"--_Spectator._\n\n\"This little book is written with brains and a degree of courage which\nis in keeping with its convictions. It has vision, too, and that counts\nfor righteousness, if anywhere, in political economy.\"--_Speaker._\n\n\"A sound and able piece of work, and contains a fair and discerning\nestimate of Smith in his essential character as the author of the\ndoctrine of Free Trade, and consequently of the modern science of\neconomics.\"--_Glasgow Herald._\n\n\"The writer of this biography deserves to be warmly congratulated on\nthe result of his labour. He has written, to my mind at least, one of\nthe best of the series of 'Famous Scots,' and has enshrined the author\nof the 'Wealth of Nations' in a manner at once attractive, interesting,\nand instructive.\"--_Northern Figaro._\n\n\"Of Adam Smith the man there are some interesting stories in this\nvolume.\"--_Academy._\n\n\"This book is one warmly to be commended as among the very best of a\nnotable series.\"--_Kilmarnock Standard._\n\n\"The story of Smith's life is plainly but interestingly told, with\noccasional graphic descriptions of the society of his time; but it\nwill undoubtedly be as an exposition of the philosophical questions\ninvolved that the book will be most highly prized.\"--_Daily Free\nPress._\n\n\"It is a biography with a specific purpose, and this purpose is\nadmirably worked out. In some respects, indeed, Mr. Macpherson's object\nis educational. Not content with doing justice to the great master of\neconomic science, he shows what we owe to other workers in the same\nschool of thought.\"--_Leeds Mercury._\n\n\"Those who have read Mr. Macpherson's 'Thomas Carlyle,' with which\nthis highly interesting series was opened, will turn with pleasure and\nexpectancy to the volume just issued. Mr. Macpherson has given us a\nvolume much above the average of the series both in literary merit and\nthoughtfulness. We strongly recommend this excellent pen-and-ink\nportrait, of the man who gave Britain the key to the wealth of the\nworld, of our fellow-students.\"--_Student._\n\n\"One of the best of an admirable series.\"--_Scots Pictorial._\n\n\"An admirable monograph.\"--_London Daily Mail._\n\n\"A thoughtful and capably written monograph.\"--_Liverpool Daily Post._\n\n\"Mr. Macpherson states the facts most admirably, and he has such a\nknowledge of the movements and events of the times in which Smith\nlived that he is able to make an excellent use of them as showing how\nthey influenced such a thinker as the author of the 'Wealth of\nNations,' and how, in turn, he was able to change the trend of the\nthinking of his age.\"--_Perthshire Courier._\n\nMR. HERBERT SPENCER says: \"I have learned much from your sketch of\nAdam Smith's life and work. It presents the essential facts in a lucid\nand interesting way. Especially am I glad to see that you have\ninsisted upon the individualistic character of his teaching. It is\nwell that his authority on the side of individualism should be put\nforward in these days of rampant Socialism, when the great mass of\nlegislative measures extend public agency and restrict private agency;\nthe advocates of such measures being blind to the fact that by small\nsteps they are bringing about a state in which the citizen will have\nlost all freedom.\"","title":"James Frederick Ferrier","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":44613}