MURRAY, Alexander, a distinguished orientalist, was born at a place called Dunkitterick, in the county of Galloway, on the 22d of October 1775. His father, Robert Murray, had been a shepherd all his days, and his mother, Mary Cochrane, was the daughter of a person in the same humble condition of life. From the circumstances of his parents, therefore, it may be inferred that their means of educating their offspring were extremely limited; indeed it appears that the subject of this notice was in a great measure self-taught, having learned the alphabet by copying the printed letters, and thus acquired simultaneously the elements both of reading and writing. In 1784, he was put to school at New Galloway, where he made rapid proficiency; but in a short time he was seized with an illness which obliged him to leave school, and he saw no more of it for four years. He continued, however, to pursue irregularly the process of self-tuition, devouring everything that came in his way, including ballads and penny histories; and, in the course of the year 1788, he was engaged by the heads of two families in the parish of Kirkowen to teach their children to read and write, an employment which he rendered subservient to his own improvement. He afterwards went to school at the village of Minigaff, where he extended his acquisitions, chiefly by his own indefatigable exertions, learned a little French, and in a short time mastered the rudiments of Latin. He compared French and Latin, and by this practice he riveted in his memory the words of both languages. His reading now became extremely various; but he confesses that, although he certainly knew “a great deal of words and matters,” his prosody was bad, and his English neither fluent nor elegant. Indulging uncontrolled his appetite for knowledge, accuracy was scarcely to be expected; he always strove to seize the sense, yet did not weary himself by analysing every sentence he read; and thus he ranged through a multitude of authors, sufficient, if carefully studied, to have occupied a considerable portion of a lifetime. To such a knowledge of Latin as might be acquired in this desultory manner, he added a smattering of Greek, and at length set about learning Hebrew, the alphabet of which he already knew. He also amused himself with writing songs and pieces of poetry, some of which, particularly a ballad, “excited more admiration than it really merited.” After several years spent in the same course of vigorous but irregular application, he came fc to Edinburgh, where he was kindly received by Dr Baird, to whom he had brought a letter of introduction. On the day after his arrival in town, he underwent an examination in the presence of Dr Baird, Dr Finlayson, and Dr Moodie,∙ and, on this occasion, read and explained a passage of a French author, an ode of Horace, a page of the Iliad, and a Hebrew psalm. His uncommon acquirements excited admiration, and not only procured him the direct advantages of academical instruction, but likewise obtained for him such pecuniary aid as seemed necessary for the prosecution of his studies. At the end of two years he obtained a bursary from the town; and about the same time he engaged in private teaching, which he looked to as a chief source of support. His views being directed to the church, he of course applied himself to those particular studies which are prescribed to candidates for the sacred office; but, whilst thus occupied, he devoted every leisure moment to the prosecution of his favourite studies, investigating every language to which he had access, and not only making himself acquainted with the dialects of Europe, but even extending his researches into the languages of Asia, particularly Sanscrit. Nor was his attention confined to words merely. He studied antiquities, and the philosophy of grammar. Conceiving it to be impossible to investigate the history of any one language without a competent knowledge of all the idioms directly or collaterally connected with it, he sought to discover the source and elements of all the modern dialects of Europe by an analytical examination of the languages which had prevailed in that quarter of the globe, and thus attempted to throw light on the origin, early history, and affiliation of the various nations by which it is inhabited. “I have been gratified,” says he, “to find, what has often been vaguely asserted, that the Greek and Latin are only dialects of a language much more simple, elegant, and ancient, which forms the basis of almost all the tongues of Europe, and, as I hope to demonstrate on some future occasion, of Sanskrit itself.”

At this time Murray was not known beyond the circle of a few select friends, by far the most eminent of whom was John Leyden, a man of the same age, and of congenial habits and pursuits. Indeed there was no one in Edinburgh with whom Murray felt so much afraid to contend in languages and philosophy as Leyden; and it is not a little remarkable, that the latter was heard to express a similar apprehension of Murray. Leyden, who had already a high reputation, closed his bright and brief career in the island of Java, where he died of fever in August 1811. Murray had yet to lay the foundation of his renown, and an opportunity was ere long afforded him of bringing his great and various acquirements into public nc-tice. Having been for some time an occasional contributor to the Scots Magazine, he was at length appointed editor of that work, and had also an opportunity afforded him of contributing several articles to the Edinburgh Review. He was engaged by Mr Constable to superintend a new impression of Bruce’s Travels to discover the Source of the Nile ; an undertaking for which his previous acquisitions had singularly qualified him, inasmuch as he not only understood Abyssinian, but had even mastered the two principal dialects of that language as actually spoken in the country. He commenced his labours in September 1802, and the work appeared in July 1805. During this interval, he resided chiefly at Kinnaird House, where he had access to Bruce’s papers and manuscripts, and devoted himself with unremitting assiduity to the completion of his task. This edition, consisting of seven large octavo volumes, was enriched by Murray with a life of the traveller, together with notes and an appendix containing curious and learned discussions on philology, antiquities, and a variety of other subjects illustrative of the author’s narrative. In the meanwhile Murray had been licensed as a preacher, though without any prospect of obtaining a living in the church. But having been strongly recommended to Dr James Muirhead, minister of Urr, who wished to have an assistant and successor, he was appointed to this charge in 1806, and, on the death of Dr Muirhead two years afterwards, became minister of the parish. In 1808, he published separately his Life of Bruce; and, in 1811, he was applied to, at the suggestion of Mr Salt, to translate a letter in Geez, from the governor Tygré to the king of [7:15:599]Great Britain, a task which he performed in a very satisfactory manner. He continued to perform his clerical duties and prosecute his literary researches till 1812, when, the professorship of oriental languages in the University of Edinburgh having become vacant by the death of Dr Moodie, he was proposed as a candidate for the chair, and, after a keen contest, elected by a majority of two votes. The other candidates were Dr Alexander Brunton, Dr David Dickson, and Dr David Scot. In consequence of this appointment, he removed to Edinburgh in November 1811, and immediately entered on the duties of his class, for the use of which he had published Outlines of Oriental Philology, a small work, containing a meagre epitome of the grammatical principles of the Hebrew language and its cognate dialects. His class was attended not only by theological students, of whom some knowledge of Hebrew is required, or at least expected, but also by several literary men, who were anxious to cultivate or renew an acquaintance with that ancient language under the guidance of so celebrated an orientalist. Dr Murray, however, was not destined long to enjoy his preferment. His constitution was not robust, and a pulmonary complaint, with which he had previously been affected, becoming aggravated by the exertion required in preparing his academical lectures, at length assumed a dangerous character, and, on the 15th of April 1813, terminated his existence, in the thirty-seventh year of his age.

Dr Murray was an estimable, and, in several respects, a remarkable man. Born in a humble station, he had been indebted for his advancement in life not less to the strict propriety of his conduct than to the extent and variety of his literary attainments. Being in a great measure self-taught, especially in early life, he had ranged through a vast field, without perhaps being thoroughly master of any subject, and had become more remarkable for the diversity than the accuracy or precision of his acquisitions. If he had been spared, he would no doubt have rectified the defects inseparable from such a desultory course of application, and narrowed the sphere of his labours, in order to proceed with greater certainty of ultimate success; but it cannot be doubted, by persons conversant with philology in its more improved and scientific form, that he often mistook fanciful speculation for inductive reasoning, and erected premature generalizations upon the uncertain basis of an arbitrary analysis.

Dr Murray left behind him in manuscript a work entitled History of the European Languages, or Researches into the Affinities of the Teutonic, Greek, Celtic, Sclavonic, und Indian Nations, which was published in 1823, in two vols. 8vo, under the auspices of Sir Henry Moncrieff, who enriched it with a life of the author, whilst Dr Scot of Corstorphine performed the duties of editor, and contributed a preface. The task undertaken in this work is truly gigantic, and, in prosecuting it, the author labours to prove, or rather states as the result of his researches, that all the languages of Europe may be traced to a single radical dialect; and that this dialect, again, may be analytically resolved into a few monosyllables, nine in number, some of which, according to the author, may even be considered as variations of the others; indeed he is of opinion that ug and wag were probably the first articulate sounds. Now this, to say the least, is a very bold generalization; and, if it were inductively deduced from a rigid analysis of all the languages which the author attempts to resolve into nine monosyllabic elements, it would unquestionably be a more wonderful triumph of human ingenuity than even the discovery of an alphabet. But it is impossible not to feol that such an analysis is completely beyond the reach of any single mind, even supposing its practicability, abstractedly considered, were admitted; and, on the other hand, in following the author through what he considers as his inductive method of reasoning, it is equally difficult to avoid the conviction, which is forced upon us at every step, that his assumptions are gratuitous, his deductions fanciful, and his results altogether hypothetical and imaginary. In inductive reasoning analysis precedes and ministers to synthesis, furnishing those elements which, by composition, may be arranged into something that is distinct and demonstrable. But it cannot for a moment be maintained that this may be truly predicated of Dr Murray’s investigations. His results, even if they were true, are such as admit of no general conclusion being deduced from them, because it is impossible, by any known process of reasoning, to produce synthetically out of his nine elementary monosyllables any definite or recognised form of human speech; and, by the known laws of permutation, it may be proved that the rudest and the poorest dialect ever found amongst mankind could not, by any process of art or ingenuity, be generated out of such elements. So far, therefore, is “Dr Murray’s system” from being “demonstrated truth,” or even “looking very like it,” as his editor has fondly imagined, that it appears to be equally absurd, fanciful, and visionary,—a sort of solemn, though of course unintentional, burlesque on the extravagancies of etymologists; and, independently of all other considerations, it is liable to this insuperable objection, that it proceeds upon an assumption of identity amongst languages which differ entirely in their grammatical structure and composition, as well as in their vocabularies, and which have nothing in common except some few terms which have been interchanged in the course of war, conquest, and commercial relations. A posthumous work, however, ought not to be judged too severely; and it may readily be believed that, if the author had lived to prepare it definitively for the press, he would have seen cause, as his views enlarged, to modify and improve much that now appears exaggerated or defective, and to impart to his system that method and unity which are altogether indispensable in such investigations. (a.) Murray, William, Earl of Mansfield, a celebrated English lawyer, was the fourth son of David earl of Stormont, and born at Perth on the 2d of March 1705. At the age of three years he was carried to England for his education, and at fourteen admitted a king’s scholar at Westminster School. At this seminary he evinced a taste for poetry, and excelled in declamation and other exercises. In June 1723, he was entered of Christ-Church College, Oxford, where he took the degree of bachelor of arts in 1727, and that of master in 1730. Having completed his academical studies, he made a tour on the Continent, and on his return became a member of Lincoln’s Inn. Being called to the bar, Mr Murray early acquired reputation and obtained practice in his profession. This was, no doubt, partly owing to his talent for public speaking, in which he was allowed to excel both old and young; but there is evident injustice in the impression created by his success, that he was more of a speaker than a lawyer, and that a decided talent for oratory implies a species of disqualification for legal research. At the same time his attachment to literature, and his intercourse with Pope and other wits of the day, gave countenance to the idea that he loved poetry better than plodding, and cultivated letters when he should have been immersed in the depths of legal study. But time and experience, as they developed his powers and matured his faculties, disabused the world of this most erroneous impression, and showed that his mind was equally formed for cultivating jurisprudence, and for excelling in oratory.

As early as 1736, we find him professionally employed against the bill of pains and penalties which afterwards passed into a law against the city of Edinburgh on account of the riotous murder of Captain Porteous. In 1738, he [7:15:600]married Elizabeth, daughter of the Earl of Winchilsea; and in 1742 he was appointed solicitor-general, and chosen representative of Boroughbridge, for which place he was afterwards returned in 1747, and again in 1754. In 1748, he acted as one of the managers for the impeachment of Lord Lovat by the Commons, and, in his observations on the evidence, in reply to the prisoner, displayed so much candour and ability that he was complimented by the accused no less than by the Lord Chancellor Talbot, who presided at the trial. In 1753, a most injurious attack was made upon his character as a public man. It had been alleged that Dr Johnson, a person then thought of for preferment, and an intimate friend of Murray, was of Jacobitical principles, and had some twenty years before drank the pretender’s health in a public company. Mr Pelham, then minister, considered the story as of sufficient importance to deserve investigation, and accordingly wrote to the author of it, Fawcett, the recorder of Newcastle, to learn the truth. Fawcett returned an evasive answer to the inquiry, but afterwards stated, in a conversation with Lord Ravensworth, that Mr Murray, and Mr Stone, a gentleman holding an office about the prince, had done so several times. Lord Ravensworth, thinking the statement of Fawcett not to be slighted, as impeaching the loyalty and principles of persons in official stations, made it the subject of such frequent remark in conversation that the ministry took it up, and advised the king to have the whole matter examined. His majesty acquiesced, and, after some proceedings in the council, a committee of the House of Lords was appointed to investigate the affair. When Mr Murray heard of this, he sent a message to the king, humbly acquainting his majesty, that if called before such a tribunal upon so trivial and scandalous a matter, he would resign his office, and decline to answer any questions. In the beginning of 1753, however, it was brought before the Lords upon the motion of the Duke of Bedford; but although the House divided it was not told, and thus ended an affair which, according to Doddington, was “the worst judged, the worst executed, and the worst supported point he ever saw of such expectation.”

In 1754, Mr Murray was appointed attorney-general in the room of Sir Dudley Ryder; and, in 1756, he succeeded the same person as chief justice of the King’s Bench. He took his seat on the bench on the 11th of November, and was immediately afterwards raised to the peerage by the title of Baron Mansfield, to himself and to the heirs male of his body. His first care was to introduce regularity, punctuality, and despatch in carrying through the business of the court; his next, to prevent delay and expenses in the disposal of causes where the court entertained no doubt. These and other reforms equally necessary gave general satisfaction, and the business of the court increased to an extent never before known, yet continued to be despatched with exemplary regularity. It is stated by Sir James Burrow, in the preface to his Reports, that at the sitting for London and Middlesex, there were as many as eight hundred causes set down in a year, “and all disposed of.” In consequence of method, and a few distinct rules laid down to prevent delay, even where the parties themselves would have willingly consented to it, the business in banco, notwithstanding its immensity, was carried through with equal despatch, nothing being allowed to hang in court or accumulate, and upon the last day of term there was rarely a single matter of any kind that remained undetermined. It appears, indeed, that excepting in the case of Perrin and Blakc, and in that relating to literary property, there had not been a final difference of opinion in the court upon any point whatsoever, from the 6th of November 1756 to the 26th of May 1776; and it is not less remarkable that, excepting these two cases, no judgment given during this period had been reversed either in the exchequer cham ber or in parliament, whilst, even in respect to these reversals, great difference of opinion existed amongst the judges.

During the very unsettled state of the ministry in 1757, Lord Mansfield accepted the office of chancellor of the exchequer, and was the means of effecting a coalition of parties, out of which was formed a strong and successful administration. In the same year he was offered the great seal, on the retirement of Lord Hardwicke, but declined it. At the commencement of the reign of George III., he was marked out as an object of party rancour, and continued for many years exposed to violent and unsparing invective, the most vigorous specimens of which have come down to us in the Letters of Junius. But the virulence of party libels occasioned no interruption in the attention which he uniformly paid to the business of his court. During the Rockingham administration, in 1765, he opposed the bill for repealing the stamp act, and is believed to have had some share in framing the protests recorded against it, although he did not sign them. The affair of Mr Wilkes’ outlawry served to rekindle the animosity with which he had been regarded by the popular party, and exposed him to renewed attacks. The question, whether this outlawry should be reversed or not, was a dry point of law, upon the wording of the record, and nothing could possibly be more remote from considerations of expediency or reasons of a political character. Yet, though merely a matter of special pleading, it was rendered an occasion of much popular excitement; and upon the day when judgment was to be given, not only the court, but the whole of Westminster Hall and Palace Yard, were crowded with anxious spectators. The court had made up their minds to reverse the outlawry, and thus place Mr Wilkes in a situation to receive judgment on the conviction. Upon this occasion, Lord Mansfield took notice of the popular excitement which had been directed against the judges of the court, particularly himself; he declared his contempt for all the threats which had been employed to deter the court from doing their duty; and he described such attempts as calculated to have no effect at all, or only one contrary to that which they were intended to produce, though he believed and knew that he had fortitude enough to resist even that weakness. “No libels, no threats, nothing that has happened, nothing that can happen,” said he, “will weigh a feather against allowing the defendant, on this and every other question, not only the whole advantage he is entitled to from substantial law and justice, but every benefit from the most critical nicety of form, which any other defendant could claim under the like objection. The only effect I feel,” he adds, “is an anxiety to be able to explain the grounds upon which we proceed, so as to satisfy all mankind, that a flaw of form, given way to in this case, could not have been got over in any other.” Upon the same occasion he gave expression to a very striking sentiment. “I honour the king,” said he, “and respect the people; but many things acquired by the favour of either are, in my account, objects not worth ambition. I wish popularity; but it is that popularity which follows, not that which is run after.”

In the beginning of 1770 Lord Mansfield was once more offered the great seal, which he again declined; and a similar offer, renewed the following year, found him equally inflexible. About the same time he was attacked, in both houses of parliament, on account of his direction to the jury in the case of Woodfall the printer, who had been prosecuted for a libel. But as his lordship’s doctrine, however dangerous in point of general principle, seemed to be correctly deduced from preceding decisions, and in accordance with the law as it then stood, and as the whole court concurred in sanctioning it, his opinion stood its ground, notwithstanding the powerful arguments with which it had been assailed.' The direction which he gave to the jury was, in [7:15:601]effect, that the question of law belonged exclusively to the court, and that the only point competent for the jury to try was merely the fact of publication, leaving it to the judges afterwards to decide whether the matter published did or did not amount to a libel. In 1776 his lordship was raised to the dignity of earl, with remainder to Louisa Viscountess Stormont, and to her heirs male by David Viscount Stormont her husband.

In June 1780, when the metropolis of the kingdom was, for several days, exposed to all the fury of lawless banditti, which took advantage of the tumultuous assemblages brought together by the Protestant Association, Lord Mansfield was marked out as an object of popular vengeance, and his house in Bloomsbury Square, with every thing it contained, including his library and manuscripts, was burned to the ground. This occurred on the night of Tuesday the 7th of June; and he did not appear in court until the 14th, which was the last day of term. When he took his seat on the bench, a reverential silence prevailed, expressive of sentiments of condolence and respect more affecting than the most eloquent address which the occasion could have suggested. His lordship submitted to his loss with calmness and dignity. At one moment, however, his feelings almost overpowered him. Having entered the House of Lords whilst the capital was still in the hands of the mob, now maddened by intoxication, and being loudly called for as soon as he had taken his seat, he rose and said, “My Lords, on the present occasion I shall not express my opinion from books; God knows, I have none.” This touch of natural eloquence, delivered with suppressed emotion, had a powerful effect on the house. His lordship was entitled, amongst others, to recover the amount of his loss from the hundred, but he preferred no claim of compensation. Further, in consequence of a vote of the House of Commons, the treasury directed the surveyor of the Board of Works to apply to Lord Mansfield, as one of the principal sufferers, requesting him to specify the nature and amount of his loss; but he declined the proposed indemnification. “It does not become me,” said he, “however great the loss may be, to claim or expect reparation from the state.”

From this time it seemed as if popular hatred had spent its force. Party animosity appeared to be mitigated by the dignity with which he bore his heavy loss; and, during the remainder of his life, all parties united in a common feeling of respect and reverence for his character and virtues. Notwithstanding his advanced age, he continued until 1787 to discharge his judicial functions with his wonted regularity; but from that time his infirmities increased so rapidly, that, in June 1788, he came to the resolution of resigning his office, and withdrawing into the shade of retirement. On this occasion the gentlemen who practised in the court where his lordship had so long presided, addressed to him an eloquent letter expressive of their admiration and regret, and at the same time consoling themselves with the reflection that his lordship was not cutoff by the sudden stroke of a painful distemper, or incapacitated by the ebb of those extraordinary faculties which had so long distinguished him, but that it had pleased God to allow to the evening of an useful and illustrious life the unclouded reflections of a superior and unfading mind over its varied events, and the happy consciousness that it had been faithfully and eminently devoted to the highest duties of human society. This letter was drawn up and transmitted to the venerable judge, by Mr, afterwards Lord Erskine, and elicited a reply, in which he declared, that if he had given any satisfaction, it was owing to the learning and candour of the bar, the liberality and integrity of whose practice freed from difficulty the judicial investigation of truth, and facilitated the administration of justice. His health continued to decline, but his mental faculties remained unim paired almost to the last. He was happy to receive intelligent visitors, and conversed freely upon the events of the time. Of the French revolution he is said to have observed, that it was an extraordinary event, and that, as it was without example, so it was without a prognostic. He died on the 20th of March 1793, in the eighty-ninth year of his age, leaving his immense fortune to his nephew Lord Stormont, who also, in virtue of a new patent granted in 1792, succeeded to his title.

The character of this noble and learned person has been ably delineated by Dr Hurd in his preface to the works of Bishop Warburton. That he was, in many respects, an extraordinary man, and that his name will go down to posterity with distinguished honour in the public records of the nation, cannot reasonably be doubted. His shining talents displayed themselves in every department of the state, as well as in the supreme court of justice, his peculiar province, which he filled with a reputation not exceeded by any of his predecessors. As a politician, he had too little courage to be the leader, and too much ability to be the dupe, of any party. He was believed to speak his own sense of public measures; and the authority of his judgment was so high, that, in ordinary times, the house was usually guided by it. He was not a forward nor a frequent speaker, but reserved himself for occasions worthy of himself, and never spoke except on subjects which he had carefully considered. In debate he was eloquent as well as judicious; or rather he became eloquent by his wisdom and good sense, flowing in apt terms, and in the clearest method. He affected no sallies of imagination, no bursts of passion, no mere tours de force ; much less did he condescend to personal abuse or virulent altercation. All was clear and apparently candid reason, instilling itself so easily into the minds of his hearers, as at once to convey information and to carry conviction along with it. He shrunk from direct contention with Chatham, when Chatham came forth in his might; and he is even said to have been overawed by the ascendency of that great man’s powers, or at least restrained by his fierce and unsparing invective. But this may, with some reason, be doubted. He knew that such triumphs are always temporary, often momentary; that it is not by sudden coruscations of genius or eloquence that a deliberative assembly is permanently or effectually influenced; that to effect such an object, genius must ally itself with reason, enlightened by knowledge, and directed by judgment; and that it is by the force of persuasion alone that the decisions of such a body can ultimately be determined. In this conviction he seems to have formed himself to the truest and best manner of speaking. His powers of genius and invention were confessedly of the first order; but he owed less to them, perhaps, than to the diligent and studious cultivation of his judgment In private life Lord Mansfield was easy, friendly, and engaging; extremely sensible of worth in other men, and ready upon all occasions to countenance and patronize it. (a.)