|
REID, (DR) THOMAS, an eminent
metaphysician and moral philosopher, and professor of the latter science in
the universities of Aberdeen and Glasgow successively, was born at Strachan,
in Kincardineshire, in the neighbourhood of Aberdeen, on the 26th of April,
1710, as shown by the minute researches of professor Dugald Stewart, who
affectionately wrote the life of his eminent friend. The family of Reid had
been ornamented by producing different authors of considerable eminence in
their age. [Stewart’s Biographical Memoirs, p. 400.] One of his ancestors,
James Reid, was the first minister of Banchory-Ternan (a parish in the
neighbourhood of Strachan) after the Reformation. His son Thomas has been
commemorated by Dempster, (whose praises of a protestant clergyman’s son may
be deemed worthy of credit,) as a man of great eminence. He collected in a
volume the Theses he had defended at foreign universities; and some of his
Latin poems were inserted in the Delitiae Poetarum Scotorum. He was
Greek and Latin secretary to James I., and bequeathed to Marischal college a
sum for the support of a librarian, which has since disappeared, or been
directed to other purposes. Alexander, a brother of Thomas, was physician to
king Charles I., and published some forgotten works on medicine and surgery.
Another brother translated Buchanan’s History of Scotland into English. The
father of the subject of our memoir was the reverend Lewis Reid, for fifty
years minister of the parish of Strachan; and his mother was daughter to
David Gregory of Kinnairdie, elder brother of James Gregory, the inventor of
the reflecting telescope.
After spending two years at
the parish school of Kincardine O’Neil, Thomas Reid was sent, for the
farther prosecution of his studies, to Aberdeen, where, at the age of twelve
or thirteen, he was entered as a student of Marischal college. Little is
known of his early studies or qualifications, with the exception of the not
very flattering remark of his master, "That he would turn out to be a man of
good and well-wearing parts." In a letter to a friend, written late in life,
he has stated some circumstances connected with his habits of body in youth,
which he appears to have recollected merely as the data of some of his
philosophical speculations. They are perhaps not the least interesting, as
showing that the physical state of the body produces effects in the
procedure of the mind, different from what might be presumed as the mental
characteristics of the individual, as derivable from his opinions. "About
the age of fourteen," he says, "I was almost every night unhappy in my sleep
from frightful dreams, sometimes hanging over a dreadful precipice, and just
ready to drop down; sometimes pursued for my life, and stopped by a wall, or
by a sudden loss of all strength; sometimes ready to be devoured by a wild
beast. How long I was plagued with such dreams, I do not recollect. I
believe it was for a year or two at least; and I think they had quite left
me before I was sixteen. In those days, I was much given to what Mr Addison,
in one of his Spectators, calls castle-building: and in my evening solitary
walk, which was generally all the exercise I took, my thoughts would hurry
me into some active scene, where I generally acquitted myself much to my own
satisfaction; and in these scenes of imagination, I performed many a gallant
exploit. At the same time, in my dreams I found myself the most arrant
coward that ever was. Not only my courage, but my strength failed me in
every danger; and I often rose from my bed in the morning in such a panic,
that it took some time to get the better of it. I wished very much to get
free of these uneasy dreams, which not only made me unhappy in sleep, but
often left a disagreeable impression in my mind for some part of the
following day. I thought it was worth trying whether it was possible to
recollect that it was all a dream, and that I was in no real danger, and
that every fright I had was a dream. After many fruitless attempts to
recollect this when the danger appeared, I effected it at last, and have
often, when I was sliding over a precipice into the abyss, recollected that
it was all a dream, and boldly jumped down. The effect of this commonly was,
that I immediately awoke. But I awoke calm and intrepid, which I thought a
great acquisition. After this, my dreams were never very uneasy; and, in a
short time, I dreamed not at all." That a mind such as Reid’s should have
been subject to "castle-building," and to singular dreams, must be accounted
for from the state of his body; while the strong active powers of his mind
are shown in the mastership which he at length acquired over the propensity.
While he remained at
Marischal college, Reid was appointed to the librarianship, which his
ancestor had founded. During this period, he formed an intimacy with John
Stewart, afterwards professor of mathematics in Marischal college. In 1736,
he accompanied this gentleman to England, and they together visited London,
Oxford, and Cambridge, enjoying an intercourse with Dr David Gregory,
Martin, Folkes, and Dr Bentley. In 1737, the King’s college, as patrons,
presented Dr Reid with the living of New Macbar, in Aberdeenshire. An
aversion to the law of patronage, which then strongly characterized many
districts of Scotland, excited hostile feelings against a man, who, if the
parishioners could have shown their will as well in making a choice as in
vituperating the person chosen, would have been the very man after their
heart. In entering on his cure, he was even exposed to personal danger. "His
unwearied attention, however," says professor Stewart, "to the duties of his
office; the mildness and forbearance of his temper, and the active spirit of
his humanity, soon overcame all these prejudices: and, not many years
afterwards, when he was called to a different situation, the same persons
who had suffered themselves to be so far misled, as to take a share in the
outrages against him, followed him, on his departure, with their
blessings and tears." On his departure, some old men are said to have
observed, "We fought against Dr Reid when he came, and would have
fought for him when he went away." It is said that, for at least a
considerable portion of the time which he spent at New Machar, he was
accustomed to preach the sermons of Dr Tillotson and Dr Evans, instead of
his own; a circumstance which his biographer attributes to modesty and
self-diffidence. In 1740, he married Elizabeth, the daughter of his uncle,
Dr George Reid, physician in London. About this period, he is said to have
spent his time in intensely studying moral philosophy, and in making those
observations on the organs of sense, and their operation on the external
world, which formed the broad basis of his philosophy. Reid was not a
precocious genius; and whatever he wrote in early life, is said to have been
defective in style: but he busied himself in planting good seed, which, in
the autumn of his days, produced to himself and to the world a rich and
abundant harvest. His first public literary attempt was an "Essay on
Quantity, occasioned by reading a Treatise, in which Simple and Compound
Ratios are applied to Virtue and Merit," published in the Transactions of
the Royal Society, in 1748. This paper is levelled at the "Inquiry into the
Origin of our ideas of Beauty and Virtue," by Dr Hutcheson, who had
committed the venial philosophical sin, of making use of a science, which
can only be brought to bear on moral science as a means of illustrating it,
and abbreviating the method of reasoning, as affording grounds for reasoning
by analogy. Perhaps, on a fair consideration, Hutcheson may not have
intended to carry his system to the extent presumed in this valuable little
treatise, most of the arguments of which are made to meet the application of
the mathematics, not only as forming a regular series of analogies fit to be
used in moral science as a means of illustrating it, and abbreviating the
method of reasoning, as affording grounds for reasoning by analogy. Perhaps,
on a fair consideration, Hutcheson may not have intended to carry his
systems to the extent presumed in this valuable little treatise, most of the
arguments of which are made to meet the application of the mathematics, not
only as forming a regular series of analogies fit to be used in moral
science, but likewise as so accurately corresponding, that, as it is all
mensurable itself, it serves the purpose of a measurer in moral science. The
following sentence contains the essence of his argument on this last point,
and it is conclusive. "It is not easy to say how many kinds of improper
quantity may, in time, be introduced into the mathematics, or to what new
subjects measures may be applied: but this, I think, we may conclude, that
there is no foundation in nature for, nor can any valuable end be served by,
applying measure to any thing but what has these two properties: First, it
must admit of degrees of greater and less; secondly, it must be associated
with or related to something that has proper quantity, so as that when one
is increased, the other is increased; when one is diminished, the other is
diminished also; and every degree of the one must have a determinate
magnitude or quantity of the other corresponding to it." [Reid’s Essays,
(1820) vi.] Reid seems not to have been very certain whether the person whom
he opposes, (styled by him Dr M.,) did actually maintain mathematics as
being a proper measure in the moral sciences, or that it merely afforded
useful analogies; and perhaps some who are disposed to agree with Reid as to
the former alternative, may not be prepared to join him in attacking the
latter. He continues: "Though attempts have been made to apply mathematical
reasoning to some of these things, and the quantity of virtue and merit in
actions has been measured by simple and compound ratios; yet Dr M. does not
think that any real knowledge has been struck out this way: it may, perhaps,
if discreetly used, be a help to discourse on these subjects, by pleasing
the imagination, and illustrating what is already known; but till our
affections and appetites shall themselves be reduced to quantity, and exact
measures of their various degrees be assigned, in vain shall we essay to
measure virtue and merit by them. This is only to ring changes on words, and
to make a show of mathematical reasoning, without advancing one step in real
knowledge." [Essays, viii. Stewart, who praises the principles of this
Essay, (Life ut sup. 510.) was moe than most philosophers of his eminence,
addicted to the vice detected in one of its forms, viz. comparison between
mental and physical nature, not merely to the extent of illustration,
but of analogy.]
In 1752, the professors of
King’s college in Aberdeen, elected Dr Reid professor of moral philosophy,
"in testimony of the high opinion they had formed of his learning and
abilities." After having taken up his residence in Aberdeen, he became one
of the projectors of that select society of philosophers, which then
dignified the northern city. It is perhaps partly to the influence of this
association, that, among many other works, we owe the "Inquiry into the
Human Mind upon the Principles of Common Sense," which Dr Reid published in
1764. As this work developed an argument against the sceptical philosophy of
Mr Hume, the author, with more magnanimity than some members of his
profession displayed at the time, procured, by the interposition of Dr
Blair, a perusal of the manuscript by Hume, in order that any of those
disputes, from mere misunderstanding of words, so pernicious to
philosophical discussion, might be avoided. Hume at first displayed some
disinclination, founded on previous experience of others, to encourage this
new assailant. "I wish," he said, "that the parsons would confine themselves
to their old occupation of worrying one another, and leave philosophers to
argue with temper, moderation, and good manners." But his liberal mind did
not permit him, on seeing the manuscript, and knowing the worth of its
author, to yield to his hasty anticipations. Writing personally to Reid, he
said, "By Dr Blair’s means I have been favoured with the perusal of your
performance, which I have read with great pleasure and attention. It is
certainly very rare, that a piece so deeply philosophical, is wrote with so
much spirit, and affords so much entertainment to the reader, though I must
still regret the disadvantages under which I read it, as I never had the
whole performance at once before me, and could not be able fully to compare
one part with another. To this reason chiefly I attribute some obscurities,
which, in spite of your short analysis or abstract, still seem to hang over
your system. For I must do you the justice to own, that, when I enter into
your ideas, no man appears to express himself with greater perspicuity than
you do; a talent which, above all others, is requisite in that species of
literature which you have cultivated. There are some objections, which I
would willingly propose, to the chapter Of Sight ,
did I not suspect that they proceed from my not sufficiently
understanding it; and I am the more confirmed in this suspicion, as Dr Black
tells me that the former objections I had made, had been derived chiefly
from that cause. I shall, therefore, forbear till the whole can be before
me, and shall not at present propose any farther difficulties to your
reasonings. I shall only say, that if you have been able to clear up these
abstruse and important subjects, instead of being mortified, I shall be so
vain as to pretend to a share of the praise; and shall think that my errors,
by having at least some coherence, had led you to make a more strict review
of my principles, which were the common ones, and to perceive their
futility."
It may be as well here to
pass over the intervening events of Dr Reid’s life, and give a brief sketch
of the principles of his philosophy, as developed in his other works,
to which, as Mr Stewart has properly remarked, the Inquiry into the Human
Mind forms an introduction. In 1785, he published his "Essays on the
Intellectual Powers of Man," and in 1788, those on the "Active Powers."
These two have been generally republished together, under the well known
title, "Essays on the Powers of the Human Mind;" a work which has
gradually gained ground in the estimation of intelligent thinkers, and is
now used as a text book by many eminent teachers of philosophy. When it is
said that Dr Reid’s philosophy is entirely, or intended to be entirely
synthetical, and that it adopts no theory, except as an induction from
experiment, it will readily be understood, that a view of its general
principles and tendency cannot be given; but it is not on this account very
difficult to describe the method by which he reasoned, and came to the
different conclusions he has adopted. Reid has generally received, and
probably with justice, the praise of having been the first to extend, by a
general system, the process of reasoning from experiment, so strongly
recommended by Bacon in natural science, to the operations of the mind. In
this he was, to a certain extent, anticipated by Hume, who, especially in
his arguments on cause and effect, and his essay on miracles, proceeded on
analyses of our experience: but the two philosophers followed a different
method; the sceptic using his experience to show the futility of any systems
of philosophy which had been raised; while Reid made use of them to redeem,
as it were, mental science, by eschewing these systems, and founding one of
his own on that experience which he saw had enabled the sceptic to demolish
the systems, destitute of such a support. But to accomplish his purpose--and
this is what distinguishes his philosophy from all other systems--Reid found
it necessary to set bounds to his inquiries, which other philosophers
had passed. He abstained from that speculation concerning the nature and
essence of the mind itself, which, as followed by others, had formed the
most convenient object of demolition to the sceptic, and limited himself to
observations on the operations of the mind, as he saw them performed
before him. Instead, therefore, of appealing to any theories of his own
(which he knew would require to be founded on vague speculation, and
independently of observation,) on the essence of the mind, when he
tried the truth of his observations, he appealed to what he called "common
sense," or that sense, however acquired, which prompts us to believe one
thing, and disbelieve another. Hence it might be said, in common language,
that, instead of making his inquiries by means of subtle and metaphysical
reasonings, he stated his views, trusting that his readers would believe him
from their common sense, and, if they did not choose to do so, knowing that
the greater part of the world was on his side, despite of any fine-spun
objections which might be produced by the sophist. The following, perhaps,
more than most other passages in his works, bears a marked stamp of his
method of reasoning: "Perhaps Des Cartes meant not to assume his own
existence in this enthymeme, but the existence of thought, and to infer from
that the existence of a mind, or subject of thought. But why did he not
prove the existence of his thought? Consciousness, it may be said, vouches
that. But who is voucher of the consciousness? Can any man prove that his
consciousness may not deceive him? No man can: nor can we give a better
reason for trusting to it, than that every man, while his mind is sound, is
determined, by the constitution of his nature, to give implicit belief to
it, and to laugh at, or to pity, the man who doubts its testimony. And is
not every man in his wits as determined to take his existence upon trust, as
his consciousness?" It is easier to find objections to, than to erect a
system of metaphysical philosophy; and that of Reid affords ample room for
controversy. Admitting that the only ground on which we can ever place
metaphysical truths is, the general belief of men of sound mind, it must
still, in every instance, be a very questionable matter, whether these men
of sound mind have come to the right conclusion, and whether it may
not be possible, by a little more investigation and argument, even though
conducted by a sceptical philosopher, to show reasons for coming to a
different conclusion, and to establish it upon the very same grounds, viz.,
the general belief of men of sound mind. When Galileo discovered that nature
abhorred a vacuum, and was afterwards obliged to admit that this abhorrence
did not extend above thirty-three feet, many men of sound mind probably felt
themselves "determined, by the constitution of their nature, to give
implicit belief" to both positions, until one discovered the effect of
atmospheric pressure, and got men of common sense to admit that nature had
no greater horror at a vacuum than at a plenum. It became a necessary
consequence of this method of reasoning, that Reid’s first, or instinctive
principles, were less simple and more numerous than those of other
philosophers; and his opponents accused him of having by that means
perplexed and complicated the science of mind. In simplifying this science,
there are two evils to be avoided; a propensity to refine every thing into
first principles, unsupported by reason; and the lesser vice of producing
confusion, by not extending speculation so far towards the establishment of
first principles, as there may be good reason for proceeding. It was
probably in his anxiety to avoid the former, that Reid incurred not unjust
censure for sometimes embracing the latter alternative. The "Principle of
Credulity," and the "Principle of Veracity," are certainly objectionable.
Reid has had many warm followers, and many who have looked on his philosophy
with great contempt. Those who conceive that all systems of mental
philosophy are merely useful for the exercise they give the mind, and the
undoubted truths which they occasionally lay open, will perhaps make the
fairest appreciation of his merit, and by such it may perhaps be allowed,
that the broad method he followed, has enabled him to lay before the world a
greater number of interesting circumstances connected with moral science,
than most other philosophers have been enabled to display. Before leaving
the subject of his works, it may be mentioned, that he composed, as a
portion of lord Kames’ Sketches of the History of Man, "A brief Account of
Aristotle’s Logic;" the chief defect of this production is, its professed
brevity. It is very clear and distinct, and leads one to regret, that so
accurately thinking and unprejudiced a writer, had not enriched the world
with a more extensive view of the Aristotelian and other systems.
In 1763, while he was, it may
be presumed, preparing his Inquiry for the press, a knowledge of what was
expected to come from his pen, and his general fame, prompted the university
of Glasgow to invite him to fill the chair of natural philosophy there. In
this office, professor Stewart remarks, that "his researches concerning the
human mind, and the principles of morals, which had occupied but an
inconsiderable space in the wide circle of science, allotted to him by his
former office, were extended and methodized in a course, which employed five
hours every week, during six months of the year. The example of his
illustrious predecessor, and the prevailing topics of conversation around
him, occasionally turned his thoughts to commercial politics, and produced
some ingenious essays on different questions connected with trade, which
were communicated to a private society of his academical friends. His early
passion for the mathematical sciences was revived by the conversation of
Simson, Moor, and the Wilsons; and at the age of fifty-five, he attended the
lectures of Black with a juvenile curiosity and enthusiasm." Dr Reid’s
constant desire for the acquisition of facts on which to raise his
deductions, kept him continually awake to all new discoveries; and he spent
many, even of the latter days of his long life, in observing the truths
which were developed by this illustrious chemist. The biographer, after
observing that the greater part of the course of lectures delivered by Dr
Reid at Glasgow, is to be found in his published works, proceeds: "Beside
his speculations on the intellectual and active powers of man, and a system
of practical ethics, his course comprehended some general views with respect
to natural jurisprudence, and the fundamental principles of politics. A few
lectures on rhetoric, which were read at a separate hour, to a more advanced
class of students, formed a voluntary addition to the appropriate functions
of his office, to which, it is probable, he was prompted rather by a wish to
supply what was then a deficiency in the established course of education,
than by any predilection for a branch of study so foreign to his ordinary
pursuits." It may be right to quote, from the same authority, these
observations as to his method of teaching, which none but an ear-witness can
make. "In his elocution and mode of instruction, there was nothing
peculiarly attractive. He seldom, if ever, indulged himself in the warmth of
extempore discourse; nor was his manner of reading calculated to increase
the effect of what he had committed to memory. Such, however, was the
simplicity and perspicuity of his style; such the gravity and authority of
his character; and such the general interest of his young hearers in the
doctrines which he taught, that by the numerous audiences to which his
instructions were addressed, he was heard uniformly with the most silent and
respectful attention. On this subject, I speak from personal knowledge,
having had the good fortune, during a considerable part of winter 1772, to
be one of his pupils." In 1781, Dr Reid retired from the duties of his
professorship; and while his labour and assiduity had earned for him a full
right to enjoy his old age in literary retirement, his mental faculties
remained unimpaired. After this period, he communicated some essays to the
Philosophical Society. The most important were: "An Examination of
Priestley’s Opinions concerning Matter and Mind;" "Observations on the
Utopia of Sir Thomas More;" and "Physiological Reflections on Muscular
Motion." By this time Reid had suffered considerable domestic affliction;
four of his children had died after reaching the age of maturity, leaving
one daughter married to Patrick Carmichael, M.D. After his retirement, his
wife died. In a letter to professor Stewart, he thus affectingly describes
his situation after that event: "By the loss of my bosom friend, with whom I
lived fifty-two years, I am brought into a kind of new world, at a time of
life when old habits are not easily forgot, or new ones acquired. But every
world is God’s world, and I am thankful for the comforts he has left me. Mrs
Carmichael has now the care of two old deaf men, and does everything in her
power to please them; and both are very sensible of her goodness. I have
more health than at my time of life I had any reason to expect. I walk
about; entertain myself with reading what I soon forget; can converse with
one person, if he articulates distinctly, and is within ten inches of my
left ear; and go to church, without hearing one word of what is said. You
know I never had any pretensions to vivacity, but I am still free from
languor and ennui." In the summer of 1796, he spent a few weeks in
Edinburgh, and his biographer, who was then his almost constant companion,
mentions, that, with the exception of his memory, his mental faculties
appeared almost unimpaired, while his physical powers were progressively
sinking. On his return to Glasgow, apparently in his usual health and
spirits, a violent disorder attacked him about the end of September; and,
after repeated strokes of palsy, he died on the 7th October following. The
affectionate biographer, in drawing a character of this eminent and
excellent man, may be said to sum up the particulars of it in the words with
which he commences. "Its most prominent features were—intrepid and
inflexible rectitude;—a pure and devoted attachment to truth;—and an entire
command (acquired by the unwearied exertions of a long life) over all his
passions."
A book about him can be read here in
pdf format |
