The Scottish Philosophy [249]
professors of the University. So Wilson was started and warmly supported by the government. Scott, the literary genius of Edinburgh, threw himself thoroughly into the canvass for Wilson, who received the appointment. Every one felt that Scottish metaphysics had suffered a reverse; but some rejoiced at this, as feeling that the Scottish colleges were too exclusively metaphysical, and introduced students to philosophy at too early an age, and they expected Wilson to give an impulse to literary culture.
We have a record in the "Memoir" of the attempts of the literary man and the poet to produce a course of lectures on philosophy. He would commence with some attractive and eloquent introductory lectures of a "popular though philosophical character, so as to make a good impression at first on his students and also on the public," and so he proposes to give eight or ten lectures on the moral systems of ancient Greece. Then he is to have six or more lectures on the physical nature of man. And now the difficulties meet him. Must he tread in the steps of Reid and Stewart {413} "which to avoid would be of great importance "? " Surely," he says, " we may contrive to write with more spirit and effect than either of them; with less formality, less caution; for Stewart seems terrified to place one foot before another." Then he would branch forth on taste and genius, which he was glad to find had been treated of by the Scotch moralists. Then comes the moral nature, the affections, and conscience, or whatever name that faculty may be called; and he anticipates that the passions and affections will furnish fine ground for description. Then there is the will and all its problems; " but here I am also in the dark." One more lecture on man's spiritual nature will make fifty-eight in all. " I would fain hope that something different from the common metaphysical lectures will produce itself out of this plan." Then he would treat of duties to God and man; of virtues and vices, -- in all, 108 lectures. Such was his projected plan. In later years he modified it, giving more time to the moral faculty, on which he did not throw any light.
He was never very systematic in his course. He enlarged on subjects suited to him, and was always poetical, often eloquent. The writer of this article remembers the impression left as he passed one day into his class-room. The students received him with applause. -- I believe they always did so; and he advanced in a rapid, genial manner, fresh as if he had just come from the Highlands or Lake country. He produced a roll of papers, some of them apparently backs of letters. I could not discover where he was in his course, but I soon found myself carried along pleasantly but irresistibly by a glowing description of faith, of its swaying and elevating influence. On another occasion I found him enlarging on the place which association has in forming our imaginations. I am not able to give his theory, but it seemed to me at the time fresh and original. His pupils felt that it was a stimulating thing to be under such a man. "One indubitable advantage," says Mr. Hill Burton, "was possessed by all Professor Wilson's students who had I eyes to see and ears to hear,' viz., the advantage of beholding closely the workings of a great and generous mind swayed by the noblest and sincerest impulses, and of listening to the eloquent utterances of a voice which, reprobating every form of meanness and duplicity, was ever raised to its loftiest pitch in recommendation of high-souled honor, truth, virtue, disinterested love, and melting charity." Another pupil, Mr. A. Taylor Innes, describes him: 'His appearance in his class-room it is far easier to remember than forget. He strode into it with the professor's gown hanging loosely on his arms, took a comprehensive look over the mob of young faces, laid down his watch so as to be out of the reach of his sledge-hammer fist, glanced at the notes of his lecture (generally written on the most wonderful scraps of paper), and then, to the bewilderment of those who had never heard
We have a record in the "Memoir" of the attempts of the literary man and the poet to produce a course of lectures on philosophy. He would commence with some attractive and eloquent introductory lectures of a "popular though philosophical character, so as to make a good impression at first on his students and also on the public," and so he proposes to give eight or ten lectures on the moral systems of ancient Greece. Then he is to have six or more lectures on the physical nature of man. And now the difficulties meet him. Must he tread in the steps of Reid and Stewart {413} "which to avoid would be of great importance "? " Surely," he says, " we may contrive to write with more spirit and effect than either of them; with less formality, less caution; for Stewart seems terrified to place one foot before another." Then he would branch forth on taste and genius, which he was glad to find had been treated of by the Scotch moralists. Then comes the moral nature, the affections, and conscience, or whatever name that faculty may be called; and he anticipates that the passions and affections will furnish fine ground for description. Then there is the will and all its problems; " but here I am also in the dark." One more lecture on man's spiritual nature will make fifty-eight in all. " I would fain hope that something different from the common metaphysical lectures will produce itself out of this plan." Then he would treat of duties to God and man; of virtues and vices, -- in all, 108 lectures. Such was his projected plan. In later years he modified it, giving more time to the moral faculty, on which he did not throw any light.
He was never very systematic in his course. He enlarged on subjects suited to him, and was always poetical, often eloquent. The writer of this article remembers the impression left as he passed one day into his class-room. The students received him with applause. -- I believe they always did so; and he advanced in a rapid, genial manner, fresh as if he had just come from the Highlands or Lake country. He produced a roll of papers, some of them apparently backs of letters. I could not discover where he was in his course, but I soon found myself carried along pleasantly but irresistibly by a glowing description of faith, of its swaying and elevating influence. On another occasion I found him enlarging on the place which association has in forming our imaginations. I am not able to give his theory, but it seemed to me at the time fresh and original. His pupils felt that it was a stimulating thing to be under such a man. "One indubitable advantage," says Mr. Hill Burton, "was possessed by all Professor Wilson's students who had I eyes to see and ears to hear,' viz., the advantage of beholding closely the workings of a great and generous mind swayed by the noblest and sincerest impulses, and of listening to the eloquent utterances of a voice which, reprobating every form of meanness and duplicity, was ever raised to its loftiest pitch in recommendation of high-souled honor, truth, virtue, disinterested love, and melting charity." Another pupil, Mr. A. Taylor Innes, describes him: 'His appearance in his class-room it is far easier to remember than forget. He strode into it with the professor's gown hanging loosely on his arms, took a comprehensive look over the mob of young faces, laid down his watch so as to be out of the reach of his sledge-hammer fist, glanced at the notes of his lecture (generally written on the most wonderful scraps of paper), and then, to the bewilderment of those who had never heard