(1685-1753)
Few readers in the United States are unfamiliar with the lines,
"Westward the course of empire takes its way." It is vaguely remembered
that a certain Bishop Berkeley was the author of a treatise on
tar-water. There is moreover a general impression that this Bishop
Berkeley contended for the unreality of all things outside of his own
mind, and now and then some recall Byron's lines--
"When Bishop Berkeley said 'there was no matter,'
And proved it,--'twas no matter what he said."
This is the substance of the popular knowledge of one of the profoundest
thinkers of the early part of the eighteenth century,--the time of
Shaftesbury and Locke, of Addison and Steele, of Butler, Pope, and
Swift,--one of the most fascinating men of his day, and one of the best
of any age. Beside, or rather above, Byron's line should be placed
Pope's tribute:--
"To Berkeley, every virtue under Heaven."
[Illustration: GEORGE BERKELEY.]
Berkeley was born in Ireland, probably at Dysart Castle in the Valley of
the Nore, near Kilkenny, March 12, 1685. The family having but lately
come into Ireland, Berkeley always accounted himself an Englishman. At
Kilkenny School he met the poet Prior, who became his intimate friend,
his business representative, and his most regular correspondent for
life. Swift preceded him at this school and at Trinity College, Dublin,
whither Berkeley went March 21, 1700, being then fifteen years of age.
Here as at Kilkenny he took rank much beyond his years, and was soon
deep in philosophical speculations.
In Professor Fraser's edition of the 'Life and Works of Berkeley'
appears a 'Common-Place Book,' kept during the Trinity College terms,
and full of most remarkable memoranda for a youth of his years. In 1709,
while still at Trinity, he published an 'Essay toward a New Theory of
Vision,' which foreshadowed imperfectly his leading ideas. In the
following year he published a 'Treatise concerning the Principles of
Human Knowledge.' Two or three years later he went to London, where he
was received with unusual favor and quickly became intimate in the
literary circles of the day. He made friends everywhere, being
attractive in all ways, young, handsome, graceful, fascinating in
discourse, enthusiastic, and full of thought. Swift was especially
impressed by him, and did much to further his fortunes.
His philosophical conceptions he at this time popularized in 'Three
Dialogues between Hylas and Philonous,' a work rated by some critics as
at the head of its class.
Before going to London, Berkeley had been made a Fellow of Trinity, had
been appointed to various college offices, and had taken orders. He
remained away from Dublin for about eight years, on leave frequently
extended, writing in London, and traveling, teaching, and writing on the
Continent. On his return from his foreign travels in 1720 or 1721, he
found society completely demoralized by the collapse of the South Sea
bubble. He was much depressed by the conditions around him, and sought
to awaken the moral sense of the people by 'An Essay toward Preventing
the Ruin of Great Britain.' Returning to Dublin and resuming college
duties, he was shortly made Dean of Dromore, and then Dean of Derry.
Hardly had he received these dignified appointments when he began
planning to rid himself of them, being completely absorbed in a scheme
for a University in the Bermudas, which should educate scholars,
teachers, and ministers for the New World, to which his hope turned. To
this scheme he devoted himself for many years. A singular occurrence,
which released him from pecuniary cares, enabled him to give his time as
well as his heart to the work. Miss Vanhomrigh, the 'Vanessa' of Swift,
upon her mother's death, left London, and went to live in Ireland, to be
near her beloved Dean; and there she was informed of Swift's marriage to
'Stella.' The news killed her, but she revoked the will by which her
fortune was bequeathed to Swift, and left one-half of it, or about
£4,000, to Berkeley, whom she had met but once. He must have "kept an
atmosphere," as Bagehot says of Francis Horner.
Going to London on fire with his great scheme, prepared to resign his
deanery and cast in his lot with that of the proposed University,
Berkeley wasted years in the effort to secure a charter and grant from
the administration. His enthusiasm and his fascinating manners effected
much, and over and over again only the simplest formalities seemed
necessary to success. Only the will of Sir Robert Walpole stood in the
way, but Walpole's will sufficed. At last, in September, 1728, tired of
waiting at court, Berkeley, who had just married, sailed with three or
four friends, including the artist Smibert, for Rhode Island, intending
to await there the completion of his grant, and then proceed to Bermuda.
He bought a farm near Newport, and built a house which he called
Whitehall, in which he lived for about three years, leaving a tradition
of a benignant but retired and scholastic life. Among the friends who
were here drawn to him was the Rev. Samuel Johnson of Stratford,
afterward the first President of King's (now Columbia) College, with
whom he corresponded during the remainder of his life, and through whom
he was able to aid greatly the cause of education in America.
The Newport life was idyllic. Berkeley wrote home that the winters were
cooler than those of the South of Ireland, but not worse than he had
known in Italy. He brought over a good library, and read and wrote. The
principal work of this period, written in a romantic cleft in the rocks,
was 'Alciphron, or the Minute Philosopher,' in seven dialogues, directed
especially against atheism.
At length, through Lord Percival, Berkeley learned that Walpole would
not allow the parliamentary grant of, £20,000 for the Bermuda College,
and returned to England at the close of 1732. His Whitehall estate he
conveyed to Yale College for the maintenance of certain scholarships.
From England he sent over nearly a thousand volumes for the Yale
library, the best collection of books ever brought at one time to
America, being helped in the undertaking by some of the Bermuda
subscribers. A little later he sent a collection of books to Harvard
College also, and presented a valuable organ to Trinity Church
in Newport.
Shortly after his return, Berkeley was appointed Bishop of Cloyne, near
Cork in Ireland, and here he remained for about eighteen years. Although
a recluse, he wrote much, and he kept up his loving relations with old
friends who still survived. He had several children to educate, and he
cultivated music and painting. He attempted to establish manufactures,
and to cultivate habits of industry and refinement among the people. The
winter of 1739 was bitterly cold. This was followed by general want,
famine, and disease. Berkeley and his family lived simply and gave away
what they could save. Large numbers of the people died from an epidemic.
In America Berkeley's attention had been drawn to the medicinal virtues
of tar, and he experimented successfully with tar-water as a remedy.
Becoming more and more convinced of its value, he exploited his supposed
discovery with his usual ardor, writing letters and essays, and at
length 'A Chain of Philosophical Reflections and Enquiries concerning
the Virtues of Tar-water and divers other subjects connected together
and arising one from another.' This was called 'Siris' in a second
edition which was soon demanded. Beginning with the use of tar-water as
a remedy, the treatise gradually developed into the treatment of the
largest themes, and offered the ripest fruits of the Bishop's
philosophy.
Berkeley's system was neither consistent nor complete, but much of it
remains sound. In brief, he contended that matter has no independent
existence, but is an idea in the supreme mind, which is realized in
various forms by the human mind. Without mind nothing exists. Cause
cannot exist except as it rests in mind and will. All so-called physical
causes are merely cases of constant sequence of phenomena. Far from
denying the reality of phenomena, Berkeley insists upon it; but contends
that reality depends upon the supremacy of mind. Abstract matter does
not and cannot exist. The mind can only perceive qualities of objects,
and infers the existence of the objects from them; or as a modern writer
tersely puts it, "The only thing certain is mind. Matter is a doubtful
and uncertain inference of the human intellect."
The essay upon Tar-water attracted great attention. The good bishop
wrote much also for periodicals, mainly upon practical themes; and in
The Querist, an intermittent journal, considered many matters of ethical
and political importance to the country. Though a bishop of the
Established Church, he lived upon the most friendly terms with his Roman
Catholic neighbors, and his labors were highly appreciated by them.
But his life was waning. His friends had passed away, he had lost
several children, his health was broken. He desired to retire to Oxford
and spend the remainder of his life in scholarly seclusion. He asked to
exchange his bishopric for a canonry, but this could not be permitted.
He then begged to be allowed to resign his charge, but the king replied
that he might live where he pleased, but that he should die a bishop in
spite of himself. In August, 1752, Bishop Berkeley removed himself, his
wife, his daughter, and his goods to Oxford, where his son George was a
student; and here on the fourteenth of the following January, as he was
resting on his couch by the fireside at tea-time, his busy brain stopped
thinking, and his kind heart ceased to beat.
ON THE PROSPECT OF
PLANTING ARTS AND LEARNING IN AMERICA
The Muse, disgusted at an age and clime
Barren of every glorious theme,
In distant lands now waits a better time,
Producing subjects worthy fame:
In happy climes, where from the genial sun
And virgin earth such scenes ensue,
The force of art by nature seems outdone,
And fancied beauties by the true;
In happy climes, the seat of innocence,
Where nature guides and virtue rules,
Where men shall not impose for truth and sense
The pedantry of courts and schools:
There shall be sung another golden age,
The rise of empire and of arts,
The good and great inspiring epic rage,
The wisest heads and noblest hearts.
Not such as Europe breeds in her decay;
Such as she bred when fresh and young,
When heavenly flame did animate her clay,
By future poets shall be sung.
Westward the course of empire takes its way;
The four first Acts already past,
A fifth shall close the Drama with the day;
Time's noblest offspring is the last.