Dalzell was clerk to the General Assembly, and was long one of the curiosities of that strange place, for which Cockburn quaintly says he was too innocent. The last time he saw Dalzell was just before his death, of the near approach of which the old man was quite aware. He was busy amusing his children by trying to discharge a twopenny cannon; but his alarm and awkwardness only terrified the little ones. At last he got behind a washing-tub, and then, fastening the match to the end of a long stick, set the piece of ordnance off gloriously. He seems to have held the opinion strongly that the seventeenth century was responsible for the defects of classical learning in Scotland. Sydney Smith declared that one dark night he had overheard the Professor muttering to himself on the street, 'If it had not been for that confounded Solemn League and Covenant, we would have made as good longs and shorts as they' (the English Episcopalians).

Professor Dalzell compiled a History of the University of Edinburgh from its foundation to his own time. His own election to the Greek chair took place in 1772, and he was at the time acting as tutor to the sons of the Earl of Lauderdale. From 1785 he appears to have acted as joint Secretary and Librarian, thus obtaining access to all the materials necessary for his elaborate History.

CHAPTER VI

Scott's University Studies—The old Latin Chronicles—Dugald Stewart, His Success described—His elegant Essays—Popular Subjects—Picture of Stewart by Lord Cockburn—His Lectures—Anecdote of Macvey Napier—Meets Robert Burns—The Poet's 'Pocket Milton.'

Certainly Edinburgh University cannot claim to have contributed much, if anything at all, to the training of the future poet, novelist, and man of letters. In his second session he fell ill, and was sent again to Kelso to recruit. He had now lost all taste for the Latin classics, and his reading at this time was almost entirely without aim or system, except that his taste led him to make a special point of history. He read George Buchanan's Latin History of Scotland, Matthew Paris, and various monkish chronicles in Latin, but Greek he now gave up for ever. He had forgotten the very letters of the Greek alphabet; a loss, as he says, never to be repaired, considering what that language is, and who they were who employed it in their compositions. His knowledge of mathematics was, by his own account, never more than a superficial smattering. He seems, however, to have won some distinction in the study of ethics, having been one of the students selected in this class for the distinction of reading an essay before the Principal. The great ornament of the Arts Faculty was at this time Dugald Stewart, of whom some account must now be given as representing in its best and typical aspects the characteristic Edinburgh culture of the period. Stewart had succeeded his father as Professor of Mathematics in 1775, and had obtained the chair of Moral Philosophy in 1785 by exchanging with a colleague. He occupied this chair for twenty-five years, during which time, by his lectures and writings, he gained the very highest distinction, not only for the importance of his philosophical speculations, but on account of the high literary merits of his style. There is no doubt that his reputation was greatly exaggerated, for his technical work was really of no value; but in his own time he maintained a foremost place, and his celebrity shed honour alike on his University and his native country. In fact, Dugald Stewart is the most remarkable example we know of the great possibilities that lie open to men of ordinary or even meagre capacities, who know how to make effective use of the commonplace. His merits were such as may belong to any man: he mastered the details of his subject with thorough care, he read much and drew upon literature for illustrative quotations, he supported moral theories by an elaborate sentimental rhetoric, he was most careful in his personal conduct, and, above all, he studiously maintained great formal dignity of both speech and manners. In short, he cultivated all the prudential and external methods of success, and he obtained it full and overflowing. He might have reversed the lines of Cato, and said:

''Tis not in mortals to deserve success:

But I'll do more, my subjects, I'll command it.'

In his college lectures his method was to expatiate on the popular aspects of moral themes, studiously avoiding repulsive technicalities and brain-taxing discussions. Thus, by judiciously limiting his topics to those in which it was possible to exercise the embellishments of rhetoric, he succeeded in his aim of always preserving the appearance of dignity and greatness. He never deviated from the great style in language or manner, and it is not surprising that his matter temporarily passed for great. The man who is never seen other than faultlessly attired in the height of fashion is bound to be considered a well-to-do gentleman. Walter Scott, however, does not seem to have been carried away by the prevailing current of enthusiasm. He merely mentions that he was further instructed in Moral Philosophy by Mr. Dugald Stewart, whose striking and impressive eloquence riveted the attention even of the most volatile students.

To Lord Cockburn's essentially different nature Stewart was the ideal of academic greatness, the correctness of Stewart's taste striking him with a certain awe. Stewart's elegant essays, 'embellished by the happiest introduction of exquisite quotations,' on such subjects as the obligations of patriotism and affection, the cultivation and the value of taste, the charms of literature and science, etc., appeared to him not only fascinating, which they were, but always great, which certainly they were not.

Lord Cockburn describes Dugald Stewart as 'about the middle size, weakly limbed, and with an appearance of feebleness which gave an air of delicacy to his gait and structure. His forehead was large and bald, his eyebrows bushy, his eyes grey, and intelligent, and capable of conveying any emotion, from indignation to pity, from serene sense to hearty humour: in which they were powerfully aided by his lips, which, though rather large perhaps, were flexible and expressive. The voice was singularly pleasing; and, as he managed it, a slight burr only made its tones softer. His ear, both for music and for speech, was exquisite; and he was the finest reader I have ever heard. His gesture was simple and elegant, though not free from a tinge of professional formality; and his whole manner that of an academical gentleman....

'He lectured, standing, from notes which, with their successive additions, must, I suppose, at last have been nearly as full as his spoken words. His lecturing manner was professorial, but gentlemanlike; calm and expository, but rising into greatness, or softening into tenderness, whenever his subject required it. A slight asthmatic tendency made him often clear his throat; and such was my admiration of the whole exhibition, that Macvey Napier told him, not long ago, that I had said there was eloquence in his very spitting. "Then," said he, "I am glad there was at least one thing in which I had no competitor...." To me his lectures were like the opening of the heavens. I felt that I had a soul. His noble views, unfolded in glorious sentences, elevated me into a higher world. I was as much excited and charmed as any man of cultivated senses would be, who, after being ignorant of their existence, was admitted to all the glories of Milton, Cicero, and Shakespeare. They changed my whole nature. In short, Dugald Stewart was one of the greatest of didactic orators. Had he lived in ancient time, his memory would have descended to us as that of one of the finest of the old eloquent sages. But his lot was better cast. Flourishing in an age which requires all the dignity of morals to counteract the tendencies of physical pursuits and political convulsion, he has exalted the character of his country and his generation. No intelligent pupil of his ever ceased to respect philosophy or was ever false to his principles, without feeling the crime aggravated by the recollection of the morality that Stewart had taught him.'