Dugald Stewart, philosopher, born in Edinburgh, 22d November 1753, son of Matthew Stewart, studied at Edinburgh and Glasgow. He became assistant (1772) to his father, and joint-professor (1775). In 1778, in the absence of Adam Ferguson, he taught also the moral philosophy class; in 1785, appointed professor of Moral Philosophy, he included in his subjects psychology, metaphysics, logic, ethics, natural theology, politics, and political economy. In 1792 appeared vol. i. of his “Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind,” and in 1793 “Outlines of Moral Philosophy.” In 1806 he received from a Whig government a sinecure worth £600 a year. From 1810 to 1820, when Stewart resigned, Dr. Thomas Brown was conjoint professor. In 1810 Stewart published his “Philosophical Essays;” in 1814–27 vols. ii. and iii. of the “Elements;” in 1815–21 the “History of Ethical Philosophy;” and in 1828 the “Philosophy of the Active and Moral Powers.” Stewart lived from 1809 at Kinneil House, Bo’ness, but died in Edinburgh, 11th June 1828. He was a conspicuous representative of the Scottish school. Sir W. Hamilton’s edition of his Works (11 vols. 1854–58) comprises a Life by Prof. Veitch.

Personal

  I was very much pleased with the freedom and openness of his conversation. I attend his lectures regularly. I must confess I have been rather disappointed. I never heard a single discussion of Mr. Stewart’s which made up one masterly and comprehensive whole. His lectures seem to be made up of detached hints and incomplete outlines, and he almost uniformly avoids every subject which involves any difficult discussion. I have acquired from him, however, a much clearer idea than I ever had of the distinctive character of Reid’s philosophy.

  Mr. Stewart is said to be naturally or habitually grave and reserved, but towards us he has broken through his habits or his nature, and I never conversed with any one with whom I was more at ease. He has a grave, sensible face, more like the head of Shakespear than any other head or print that I can remember. I have not heard him lecture; no woman can go to the public lectures here, and I don’t choose to go in men’s or boys’ clothes, or in the pocket of the Irish giant, though he is here and well able to carry me. Mrs. Stewart has been for years wishing in vain for the pleasure of hearing one of her husband’s lectures.

  We have had Dugald Stewart and his family here for three or four days. We spoke much of the weather and other harmless subjects. He became, however, once a little elevated; and, in the gayety of his soul, let out some opinions which will doubtless make him writhe with remorse. He went so far as to say he considered the King’s recovery as very problematical.

  In short, Dugald Stewart was one of the greatest of didactic orators. Had he lived in ancient times, his memory would have descended to us as that of one of the finest of the old eloquent sages.

  This eminent and most amiable man was fortunate in his choice of a second wife, who was a daughter of the Hon. George Cranstoun, the sister of Lord Corehouse, and of the interesting Countess Purgstall, whose widowed isolation in Schloss Hainfeld is graphically portrayed by Captain Basil Hall. She was the habitual and confidential companion of her husband during his studies, and he never considered a piece of his composition to be finished until she had reviewed it. He himself said that though she did not probably understand the abstract points of his philosophy so well as he did himself, yet when he had once given a truth an intelligible shape, she helped him to illustrate it by a play of fancy and of feeling which could come only from a woman’s mind.

  In 1785, on the resignation of Ferguson, he was transferred to the chair of moral philosophy, which he filled for a quarter of a century and made a notable centre of intellectual and moral influence. Young men of rank and of parts were attracted by his reputation from England, and even from the Continent and America. A very large number of men who afterwards rose to eminence in literature or in the service of the state were thus among his students. Sir Walter Scott, Jeffrey, Cockburn, Francis Horner, Sydney Smith, Lord Brougham, Dr. Thomas Brown, James Mill, Sir James Mackintosh, and Sir Archibald Alison may be mentioned among others. There is a unanimous testimony to the attractive eloquence of Stewart’s lectures and the moral elevation of his teaching.

  But if he brought no original impulse to the school, the limits of which were indeed fairly well defined, there was no one who expounded its methods with greater acceptance or success than Stewart. His argument was not always close or accurate; his style was diffuse, and his illustration sometimes lavish in its copiousness. But his range of learning, as learning was esteemed in his day, was wide. He had travelled much, and had mixed on easy and familiar terms with men of every class. He had a fund of smooth eloquence. His character, calm, benevolent, and studiously courteous, fitted him admirably to attain that unquestioned and unquestionable authority which made him potent as an oracle amongst his students, and gave to his professional prelections something of the influence of powerful pulpit ministrations. In his time, and mainly through his influence, although also through the high traditions of his predecessors, the University of Edinburgh became the resort of men of all countries. From England many of those most fitted by birth, station, and ability to influence the coming generation, thronged to the northern university as to a Mecca of learning. In his classroom many who, but a few years before, would have looked upon Scotland as a country sunk in ignorance and poverty, and alien in political ideas, sat side by side with the Scottish youth and imbibed the notions which were to form their principles throughout life.

Philosophical Essays, 1810

  The singular eloquence with which Mr. Stewart has contrived to adorn the most unpromising parts of his subject,—the rich lights which his imagination has every where thrown in, with such inimitable judgment and effect,—the warm glow of moral enthusiasm which he has spread over the whole of his composition,—and the tone of mildness, dignity, and animation which he has uniformly sustained, in controversy, as well as in instruction; are merits which we do not remember to have seen united in any other philosophical writer; and which might have recommended to general notice, topics far less engaging than those on which they were employed. His former work, on the “Philosophy of the Human Mind,” has accordingly been more read than any other modern book on such subjects; and the volume before us, we think, is calculated to be still more popular.

  We may observe in general, that all the essays which it contains are remarkable for extensive and various knowledge, elevated sentiments, and uncommon dignity and beauty of style; and that some of them also display great acuteness, originality, and profundity. The first series is chiefly adapted to those readers who are conversant in the more abstract discussions of metaphysical science; the second, while equally interesting to this class, may be read with pleasure by those who have but little relish for scholastic disputations…. Of all the teachers of abstract knowledge, Mr. Stewart is by far the most eloquent and attractive. Philosophy, pourtrayed by his masterly pencil, wears an aspect the most pleasing as well as sublime. That noble love of truth and science by which he is actuated, diffuses through every page an ardour and animation which can hardly fail to warm and to interest every cultivated reader. He always relieves and illustrates his subject by the happiest allusions and quotations, and decorates even the most umpromising discussions with the various colouring of his chaste and cultivated imagination. Such, indeed, are the great and engaging qualities of mind which Mr. Stewart displays, that even when there is room to question the solidity or importance of any of his conclusions, it is impossible to dissent from him but with hesitation and respect. Mr. Stewart’s object in the two first essays is to refute Locke’s theory of the origin of ideas, and to show its connection with the sceptical doctrines of Berkeley and Hume.

  In the first two Dissertations of the volume bearing the title of “Philosophical Essays,” he with equal boldness and acuteness grapples with the most extensive and abstruse questions of mental philosophy, and points out both the sources and the uttermost boundaries of human knowledge with a Verulamean hand.

First Preliminary Dissertation, 1815–21

  I have just read Dugald Stewart’s “Preliminary Dissertation.” In the first place, it is totally clear of all his defects: no insane dread of misrepresentation; no discussion put off till another time, just at the moment it was expected, and would have been interesting; no unmanly timidity; less formality of style and cathedral pomp of sentence. The good it would be trite to enumerate: the love of human happiness and virtue, the ardour for the extension of knowledge, the command of fine language, happiness of illusion, varied and pleasing literature, tact, wisdom, and moderation. Without these high qualities, we all know, Stewart cannot write.

  The high fame of Dugald Stewart has rendered it a sort of duty to vindicate from his hasty censures the memory of one still more illustrious in reputation, till the lapse of time and the fickleness of literary fashion conspired with the popularity of his assailants to magnify his defects, and meet the very name of his famous treatise with a kind of scornful ridicule. That Stewart had never read much of Grotius, or even gone over the titles of his chapters, is very manifest; and he displays a similar ignorance as to the other writers on natural law, who for more than a century afterwards, as he admits himself, exercised a great influence over the studies of Europe. I have commented upon very few, comparatively, of the slips which occur in his pages on this subject.

  It may seem a harsh and presumptuous deliverance, but we have no dread of its being gainsaid,—that in our higher Philosophical Literature it would be difficult to find a less adequate treatment of so great a theme. From the absence of coherence,—the absence of any trace of unity or comprehensive principle,—the Dissertation is more like the expansion of a commonplace book than an effort to contemplate the continuous flow of Human Thought. It evinces, too, an extraordinary defect of sympathy with the whole progress of speculation in modern continental Europe: Stewart manifestly knew nothing of Kant, and he did not think it necessary to take notice of Spinoza.

  I look upon it as the finest of the dissertations in the “Encyclopædia Britannica;” and this is no mean praise, when we consider the number of eminent men who have written for that work. I regard it, indeed, as, upon the whole, the best dissertation which ever appeared in a philosophical serial. As a history of modern philosophy, especially of British philosophy, it has not been superseded, and, I believe, never will be set aside. It is pre-eminent for its fine literary taste, its high moral tone, its general accuracy, its comprehensiveness of survey, and its ripeness of wisdom. When we read it, we feel as if we were breathing a pure and healthy atmosphere, and that the whole spirit of the work is cheering, as being so full of hope in the progress of knowledge. Its critical strictures are ever candid, generally mild, very often just, and always worthy of being noted and pondered. The work is particularly pleasing in the account given of those who have contributed by their literary works to diffuse a taste for metaphysical studies, such as Montaigne, Bayle, Fontenelle, and Addison. It should be admitted that the author has scarcely done justice to Grotius, and failed to fathom the depth of such minds as Leibnitz and Jonathan Edwards. I agree, moreover, with those who regret that he should ever have been tempted to enter on a criticism of Kant, whose works he knew only from translations and imperfect compends.

General

  The sagacious, the enlightened, and the virtuous Dugald Stewart, in whose writings are united the perspicuity of Dr. Reid, the acuteness of Adam Smith, and the precision of David Hume.

  He will be disappointed who shall expect from these pages [“Life of Robertson”] an account of the progress of Dr. Robertson’s mind, or a distinct view of his mental character, farther than can be obtained in his works. We meet neither with striking anecdotes, nor discriminative touches, nor fine and descriptive sketches. We recognize in every part of the piece a great master’s hand; but the painting is not historical—it is not a portrait.

  His writing on literary and moral topics is the most popular in this part of the world, but Stewart ought not to write for this part of the world, or for this age of the world; he is bound to feel more courage, possessing the art of writing as he does, which always makes such a conquest over time, to say nothing of that loftiness and sensibility which pervade his philosophy, and must insure its success for ever, if England has any pretensions to immortality.

  The longer I study the works of this philosopher, the more I become convinced of two things—first, that in perspicacity and comprehension of understanding he yields to several; but, secondly, that in taste, variety of acquirements, and what is of more importance, in moral dignity of mind, he has no rival that I know of. Every liberal opinion has at all times found in him a zealous advocate. When he has come before the public he has borne himself with a carriage so meek, yet so commanding, and now, when, with unabating ardour, he is retired to devote the last remnant of his well-spent life to the great cause of human improvement, his attitude is so pensively sublime, I regard him with a reverence which I scarcely feel for any other living person. He is a man, take him for all in all, we shall not look upon his like again. There is something melancholy in the thought that the world cannot long enjoy the light of such a mind. But the cup goes round, and who so artful as to put it by.

  Few writers rise with more grace from a plain ground work to the passages which require greater animation or embellishments. He gives to narrative, according to the precept of Bacon, the colour of the time, by a selection of happy expressions from original writers. Among the secret arts by which he diffuses elegance over his diction, may be remarked the skill which, by deepening or brightening a shade in a secondary term, by opening partial or preparatory glimpses of a thought to be afterwards unfolded, unobservedly heightens the import of a word, and gives it a new meaning, without any offense against old use.

  The name of Dugald Stewart is one of the few, which, of late years, serve to relieve in part the character of the mother country from the charge of a comparative neglect of the great sciences of intellectual and moral philosophy. His writings upon these all-important subjects, if not the most powerful, are perhaps the most engaging in form, and consequently the most attractive to the general reader, in the language…. The praise we allow to Stewart is the same which is usually given to the greatest philosophical writers of ancient and modern times…. The “Philosophical Essays” and the “Dissertations on the History of Philosophy,” are among the most agreeable and valuable of our author’s writings. It would carry us too far from our immediate object to pretend to comment upon the various subjects, which are rapidly touched upon in these works. It is much to be regretted that Stewart did not live to complete the plan of the Dissertations. Without, perhaps, fully realising the idea of a perfect History of Philosophy, they might, in that case, have justly been considered as the most remarkable essay towards a work of this kind, to be found in any language. The learning, displayed by our author in these Dissertations and in his other writings, is extensive, and as far as it goes, uniformly thorough and exact. He is familiar in particular with classical and French literature. He attaches, we think, rather too much importance to some continental writers of an inferior order, such as Buffier and Boscovich.

  Stewart, who cast a luminous glance over the philosophy of mind, and warmed the inmost recesses of metaphysical inquiry by the delicacy of taste and the glow of eloquence.

  A Scotch philosopher of great repute, but, as it appears to me, of ability not quite equal to his repute…. Though a somewhat superficial thinker, was, at all events, a careful writer.

  He propounded little that was original in philosophy; his opinions were for the most part modifications of Reid; but as an expositor of philosophical doctrines, his reputation stands deservedly high. Most of his works were composed after his retirement from the Chair of Philosophy in 1810…. He is the most ornate and elegant of our philosophical writers. His summaries of philosophical systems are sometimes praised as being especially perspicuous and interesting. His manner as a controversialist is peculiarly agreeable when taken in contrast to the hard-hitting and open ridicule of such controversialists as Priestley: Stewart’s copious lubricated eloquence is much better fitted to conciliate opponents and win assent.

  Dugald Stewart, the Professor of Moral Philosophy, whose works, if they have often been surpassed in depth and originality of speculation, have seldom been equalled for solid sense and polished ease of diction.

  Stewart, in all probability the greatest philosopher of the age, did not, in spite of his ability, attain to the important position that was yielded, without opposition, to Jeremy Bentham.

  Dugald Stewart, a man whose name was received with as much respect as Boswell’s was with ridicule, in spite of the new example so lately set him by a brother Scot, treated Adam Smith, Robertson, and Reid with the old-fashioned solemnity, and instead of raising to them a memorial buried them beneath a monument.

  He has risen beyond the plainness, amounting almost to monotony, that had marked the previous writings of his school; and it was owing perhaps in great measure to his consummate gifts as an academic teacher that his written work was enriched by a vein of ornament and eloquence.

  As an empirical observer, too, of psychological facts he showed genuine acuteness, and the exposition of Reid’s ideas, in which his so-called philosophy mainly consists, were both more precise and more suggestive than the original text. But he was incapable of making any real advance upon Reid, and equally incapable of retreating decisively from the barren position which Reid, as a metaphysician, had taken up. His greatest distinction is the influence he admittedly had upon the school of Jouffroy and Cousin, which, though at bottom as barren as his own, commanded a far wider intellectual horizon.

  Stewart’s influence owed so much to his personal attractiveness that its decline is not surprising. He was a transmitter of Reid’s influence far more than an originator. He held, with Reid, that philosophy depended upon psychology treated as an inductive science. He expounded the doctrine “common-sense” so as to represent the “intuitionism” against which the Mills carried on their polemic. He repudiated, however, ontological argument still more emphatically than his master, and was a thorough nominalist. While thus approximating to the purely empirical school, he was the more anxious, as Mackintosh observes, to mark his disapproval of more thoroughgoing advocates.