and any one who even thinks that he is 

 thinking, has a very good right to call him- 

 self a philosopher. He will find plenty to 

 keep him in countenance. 



There is not a parish in London, and there 

 is scarcely a town in the kingdom, in which 

 any Mgetty little prig, who had nothing 

 better to do with his time, might not get up 

 a Philosophical Society. If you have a teles- 

 cope, and an almanac, and a pair of globes ; 

 and if you look at the moon with your night- 

 cap on your head, — you are a philosopher. 

 If you have an electrical machine, and serve 

 your friends ' shocking' tricks, you are a 

 philosopher. If you have a barometer, ther- 

 mometer, hygrometer, and hydrometer — if 

 you chronicle the clouds, and tell the world 

 once a week which way the wind blows, — 

 you are philosopher. If you have a mantel- 

 piece covered with brick-bats, and a bureau 

 full of black-beetles, and cockchafers, — you 

 are a philosopher. If you roam about the 

 fields and the ditches with a tin box in your 

 hand, picking up duckweed, groundsel, and 

 duckweed, - you are a philosopher. If you 

 become a cat's butcher, and kill mice with 

 an air-pump, — you are a philosopher. If 

 you risk the blowing up of your house with 

 hydrogen gas or other combustibles, — you 

 are a philosopher. If you hunt for a soul 

 with a dissecting knife, and then, because 

 you cannot find one, say that there is no 

 such thing, — you are a philosopher. If you 

 read German metaphysics, and talk moon- 

 shine that nobody can understand, — yon 

 are a philosopher. If you disbelieve what 

 your neighbors believe, and believe what 

 your neighbors disbelieve, — you ar@ a phi- 

 losopher. If you do not care who is hanged 

 or drowned, or whose cat has kittened, — you 

 are a Stoic philosopher. If you growl at 

 everybody and everything, — you are a Cynic 

 philosopher. If you have a fancy for fish, 

 flesh, and fowl, and like good cookery better 

 than bad, — you are an Epicurean philoso- 

 pher. 



In short, I verily believe that the dif- 

 ficulty now is to avoid being a philosopher. 

 The whole air and the whole nation is tho- 

 roughly bephilosophised —saturated with phi- 

 losophy. We cannot open our eyes or ears, 

 but wisdom must come in. We cannot open 

 our mouths, but wisdom must go out. Every- 

 thing is made on philosophic principles — 

 wigs, whiskers, boots, breeches, and bed- 

 posts ; so that we are almost all of us forced 

 to be philosophers, whether we will or no. 



But the worst of the matter is, that, as 

 what is everybody's business is nobody's 

 business, so, what is everybody's distinction 

 is nobody's distinction. In the days of old, 

 w r hen reading and writing were clerkly at- 

 tainments, there was some merit and some 

 desirableness in being able to read and 



write ; but when these accomplishments be- 

 came general, there was disgrace in being 

 without them. This seems noAvto be pretty 

 nearly the case with philosophy ; and as 

 when people quarrel they sometimes say one 

 to the other, " Sir, you are no gentleman,'' — 

 it will presently be the mode to say, " Sir, 

 you are no philosopher." 



It is indeed an unpardonable sin for any 

 one in these days to be unphilosophical ! 

 Philosophy is now made easy to the meanest 

 capacities ; and perhaps, the meaner the 

 capacity, the easier the philosophy. One 

 of the chief sources of difficulty in phi- 

 losophy anciently was, the restlessness of the 

 mind iii making inquiries beyond the power 

 of the visible world to answer ; mingled also 

 with some little sense of human imperfection, 

 and the incapacity of the mind to compre- 

 hend and know all things. This difficulty 

 now is pretty well done away with. The 

 mind seems to be marvellously increased in 

 its power ; or nature is greatly circumscribed 

 as to its principles and comprehensiveness. 

 Should there, indeed, be any knowledge 

 which a man cannot carry in his head, he 

 can certainly carry it in his pocket ; and so 

 long as a man possesses knoAvledge, what 

 signifies where he keeps it — in his head- or in 

 a wooden box ! In the eye of philosophy, 

 there is not much difference. A Penny Cy- 

 clopaedia is a kind of promissory note, which 

 says, " I promise to pay at ten minutes' 

 sight, John Smith, or reader, a pennyworth 

 of wisdom, value received." 



The art of painting has greatly contri- 

 buted to the diffusion of knowledge of all 

 kinds — useful and useless, entertaining and 

 wearisome, religious and profane, politic and 

 impolitic. Formerly, knowledge was in hu- 

 man minds— treasured as a choice gem in the 

 heart and understanding ; but now it is no 

 longer confined to such narrow limits, but is 

 spread abroad over many reams of paper, 

 and is sold very cheap in many shops, and 

 stands on many shelves. 



Gracious reader, be not scandalised at these 

 remarks ; though you thought that we would 

 grudge knowledge to the many. Alas ! you 

 know us not, if you think us capable of any 

 such narrow views. Nay, on the contrary, 

 our remarks are prompted by our wish, that 

 the shadow may not be mistaken for the 

 substance, and that the flatulence of a vain 

 conceit may not be substituted for the solid 

 fulness of intellectual truth. Care must be 

 taken, that the diffusion of knowledge becomes 

 not the dispersion of knowledge — the scat- 

 tering of it to the four winds of heaven. There 

 may be a plethora of information, accompanied 

 by an indigestion of knowledge. Solomon, 

 who has been generally reckoned a Aviso man, 

 had no objection to the diffusion of knowledge, 

 for he says, " Get knowledge ;" but he did 



