Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/essaysonintellec05reid ESSAYS 5.SV ON THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS OF MAN. BY THOMAS EEID, D. D., F. R. S. E. ABRIDGED. WITH NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SIR WILLLA.M HAMILTON AND OTHERS. EDITED By JAMES WALKER, D.D., PROFESSOR OP INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN HARVARD COLLEGE. f):tt) JHtJitfion; BOSTON: PHILLIPS, SAMPSON, AND COMPANY. NEW YORK: J. C. DERBY. 1855. ^ \^$5 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850, by John Bartlett, in the ClerV's Office of the District Court of the District of Masaachusetta. AITAK B. HASIT, PEIHTEIt, S WAISR ST., BOSTOX. EDITOR'S NOTICE. The psychology generally taught in England and this country for the last fifty years has been that of the Scotch school, of which Dr. Reid is the acknowledged head. The influence of the same doctrines is also apparent in the im- proved state of philosophy in several of the Continental nations, and particularly in France. Sir W. Flamilton ded- icates his annotated edition of Reid's works to M. Cousin, the distinguished philosopher and stat|5sman " through whom Scot- land has been again u'nited intellectually to her old political ally, and the author's writings (the best result of Scottish speculation) made the basis of academical instruction in phi- losophy throughout the central nation of Europe." The name of Reid, therefore, historically considered, is second to none among British psychologists and metaphy- sicians, with perhaps the single exception of Locke. His Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man have likewise intrinsic and peculiar merits, especially as a manual to be used by those who are just entering on the study. The spirit and tone are unexceptionable ; the style has a fresh- ness and an interest which betoken the original thinker ; technicalities are also avoided to a great degree, by which means, and by the frequent use of familiar and sometimes iv EDITOR^S NOTICE. homely comparisons and illustrations, much of the obscurity and perplexity, commonly objected to in metaphysical discus- sion, is removed. The notes are intended either to correct mistakes and sup- ply defects in the text, or to bring down the history of the speculation to the present day. Most of them are from Sir W. Hamilton's edition of Reid, mentioned above, and . are marked by his initial. These, together with the extracts oc- casionally made from the supplementary dissertations, can hardly fail to convince the reader, that, when the whole of that work, as yet incomplete, is given to the public, it will constitute one of the most important contributions ever made to intellectual science. In order to make room for these additions, and, at the same time, keep the volume within the limits proper for a text-book, it has been found necessary materially to abridge some portions of the original ; but the omitted passages con- sist almost exclusively of repetitions, or of historical or merely critical digressions, in which the author did not excel. On account of these changes, the division and numbering of the chapters have been altered in several instances, and some passages have been transposed. To give greater distinctness to the argument or exposition, sections have also been in- troduced. The references in the notes are generally for beginners, and not for proficients. They will be found convenient where students are required, under the form of dissertations or foren- sics, to collect and v/eigh the various opinions which have been entertained respecting the disputed question. Cambridge, February 15, 1850. CONTENTS. PAOB PREFACE, »,«•••••••• IX PRELIMINARY ESSAY. CHAPTER I. EXPLICATION OF WORDS, 1 CHAPTER II. OF HYPOTHESES, 10 CHAPTER III. OF ANALOGY, 17 CHAPTER lY. ON THE PROPER MEANS OF KNOWING THE OPERA- TIONS' OF THE MIND, . . . ... . . .23 CHAPTER V. DIVISION OF THE POWERS OF THE MfND, . . .23 ESSAY II. OF THE POWERS WB HAVE BY MEANS OP OUR EX- TERNAL SENSES. CHAPTER I. OF THE ORGANS OF SENSE, 32 CHAPTER II. hartley's theory of vibrations, 40 a* VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. FALSE CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE CONNECTION BETWEEN PERCEPTION AND IMPRESSIONS MADE ON THE ORGANS OF SENSE, 48 CHAPTER IV. OF PERCEPTION, PROPERLY SO CALLED, .... 55 CHAPTER V. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION, .63 CHAPTER VI. REFLECTIONS ON THE COMMON THEORY OF IDEAS, . 127 CHAPTER VII. OF SENSATION, . .140 CHAPTER VIII. OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION, 150 CHAPTER IX. OF MATTER AND SPACE, . . . ... .168 CHAPTER X. OF THE EVIDENCE OF SENSE, AND OF BELIEF IN GEN- ERAL, . . 181 CHAPTER XI. OF THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES, . . .189 CHAPTER XII. OF THE ALLEGED FALLACY OF THE SENSES, . . 199 ESSAY III. OF MEMORY. CHAPTER I. OF THE NATURE AND FUNCTIONS OF THIS FACULTY, 211 CONTENTS. Vll CHAPTER II. THE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF OUR NOTION OF DURA- TION, 228 CHAPTER III. OF THE NATURE AND ORIGIN OF OUR NOTION OF PERSONAL IDENTITY, 241 ESSAY IV. OF CONCEPTION. CHAPTER I. OF CONCEPTION, OR SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GEN- ERAL, . . . - . 254 CHAPTER II. OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND 5 OR MEN- TAL ASSOCIATION, 279 ESSAY V. OF ABSTRACTION. CHAPTER I. OF GENERAL WORDS, ........ 298 CHAPTER II. OF THE FORMATION OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS, . 306 CHAPTER III. OPINIONS OF PHILOSOPHERS ABOUT UNIVEIiSALS, . 321 ESSAY VI. OF JUDGMENT. CHAPTER I. OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL, 331 VIU CONTENTS. CHAPTER II. OF COMMON SENSE, . . . . . . . , . 349 CHAPTER III. OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL, 364 ESSAY VII. OF REASONING. CHAPTER I. OF REASONING IN GENERAL, AND OF DEMONSTRATION, 422 CHAPTER II. OF PROBABLE REASONING, 436 CHAPTER III. OF MR. Hume's skepticism with regard to reason, 444 ESSAY VIII. OF TASTE. CHAPTER I. of taste IN GENERAL, .455 CHAPTER II. OF THE OBJECTS OF TASTE, .459 APPENDIX. i SIR w. Hamilton's doctrine of common sense and THEORY OF PERCEPTION. NATURAL REALISM. PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE, 481 PREFACE. I. Distribution of the Sciences.] Human knowledge may be reduced to two general heads, according as it relates to body or to mind; to things material, or to things intellectual. The whole system of bodies in the universe, of which we know but a very small part, may be called the ma- terial world ; the whole system of minds, from the in- finite Creator to the meanest creature endowed with thought, may be called the intellectual world. These are the two great kingdoms of nature* that fall within our notice ; and about the one or the other, or things pertaining to them, every art, every science, and every human thought are employed ; nor can the boldest flight of imagination carry us beyond their limits. Many things there are, indeed, regarding the nature and the structure both of body and of mind, which our faculties cannot reach ; many difficulties which the * The term nature is used sometimes in a wider, sometimes in a nar- rower extension. When employed in its most extensive meaning, it em- braces the two worlds of mind and matter. When employed in its more restricted signification, it is a synonyme for the latter only, and is then used in contradistinction to the former. In the Greek philosophy, the word (pvais was general in its meaning ; and the great branch of philoso- phy styled physical or physiological included under it, not only the sciences of matter, but also those of mind. With us the term nature is more vague- ly extensive than the terms physics, physical, physiology^ physiological, or even than the adjective natural ; whereas, in the philosophy of Germany, Natur, and its correlatives, whether of Greek or Latin derivation, are, in general, expressive of the world of matter, in contrast to the world of intelligence. — H. X PREFACE. ' ablest philosopher cannot resolve ; but of other natures, if any other there be, we have no knowledge, no con- ception at all. That every thing that exists must be either corporeal or incorporeal, is evident. But it is not so evident, that every thing that exists must either be corporeal or en- dowed with thought. Whether there be in the universe beings which are neither extended, solid, and inert, like body, nor active and intelligent, like mind, seems to be beyond the reach of our knowledge. There appears to be a vast interval between body and mind ; and whether there be any intermediate nature that connects them to- gether, we know not. We have no reason to ascribe intelligence, or even sensation, to plants ; yet there appears in them an ac- tive force and energy, which cannot be the result of any arrangement or combination of inert matter. The same thing may be said of those powers by which ani- mals are nourished and g7^ow,hj which maiteY g'?'avi' tateSj by which magnetical and electrical bodies attract and repel each other, and by which the parts of solid bodies cohere. Some have conjectured, that the phenomena of the material world which require active force are produced by the continual operation of intelligent being's. Others have conjectured, that there may be in the universe beings that are active without intelligence^ which, as a kind of incorporeal machinery, contrived by the Su- preme Wisdom, perform their destined task without any knowledge or intention. But, laying aside conjec- ture, and all pretences to determine in things beyond our reach, we must rest in this, — that body and mind are the only kinds of being of which we can have any knowledge, or can form any conception. If there be other kinds, they are not discoverable by the faculties which God has given us ; and, with regard to us, are as if they were not. As, therefore, all our knowledge is confined to body and mind, or things belonging to them, there are two great branches of philosophy, one relating to body, the PREFACE. XI other to mind. The properties of body, and the laws that obtain in the material system, are the objects of natural philosophy^ as that term is now used. The branch which treats of the natm^e and operations of minds has by some been called pneumatology J^ And to the one or the other of these branches, the principles of all the sciences belong. What variety there may be of minds or thinking beings throughout this vast universe, we cannot pre- tend to say. "We dwell in a little corner of God's do- minion, disjoined from the rest of it. The globe which we inhabit is but one of seven planets that encircle our sun. What various orders of beings may inhabit the other six, their secondaries, and the comets belonging to our system, and how many other suns may be en- circled with like systems, are things altogether hid from us. Although human reason and industry have dis- covered, with great accuracy, the order and distances of the planets, and the laws of their motion, we have no means of corresponding with them. That they may be the habitation of animated beings is very prob- able ; but of the nature or powers of their inhabitants, we are perfectly ignorant. Every man is conscious of a thinking principle or mind in himself, and we have sufficient evidence of a like principle in other men. The actions of brute animals show that they have (Some thinking principle, though of a nature far inferior to the human mind. And everything about us may convince us of the existence of a Supreme Mind, the Maker and Governor of the universe. These are all the minds of which reason can give us any certain knowledge. II. General Prejudice against the Study of Psycholo- gy,] The mind of man is the noblest worl^: of God which reason discovers to us, and therefore, on account * Now properly superseded by the term psychology ; to which no com- petent objection can be made, aud which aifords — what the various clumsy periphrases in use do not — a convenient adjective, psycJiologicaL •— H. XU PREFACE. of its dignity, deserves our study. It must, indeed, be acknowledged, that although it is of all objects the nearest to us, and seems the most within our reach, it is very difficult to attend to its operations, so as to form a distinct notion of them ; and on that account there is no branch of knowledge in which the inge- nious and speculative have fallen into so great errors, and even absurdities. These errors and absurdities have given rise to a general prejudice against all in- quiries of this nature ; and because ingenious men have, for many ages, given different and contradictory accounts of the powers of the mind, it is concluded that all speculations concerning them are chimerical and visionary. But whatever effect this prejudice may have with superficial thinkers, the judicious will not be apt to be carried away with it. About two hundred years ago the opinions of men in natural philosophy were as various and as contradictory as they are now concern- ing the powers of the mind. Galileo, Torricelli, Kep- ler, Bacon, and Newton had the same discouragement in their attempts to throw light upon the material sys- tem, as we have with regard to the intellectual. If they had been deterred by such prejudices, we should never have reaped the benefit of their discoveries, which do honor to human nature, and will make their names immortal. The motto which Lord Bacon prefixed to some of his writings was worthy of his genius, Inve- niam viam autfaciam. There is a natural order in the progress of the sci- ences, and good reasons may be assigned why the philosophy of body should be elder sister to that of mind, and of a quicker growth ; but the last has the principle of life no less than the first, and will grow up, though slowly, to maturity. The remains of an- cient philosophy upon this subject are venerable ruins, carrying the marks of genius and industry, sufficient to inflame, but not to satisfy, our curiosity. In later ages, Descartes was the first that pointed out the road we ought to take in these dark regions. Male- branche, Arnauld, Locke, Berkeley, BufFier, Hutche- son, Butler, Hume, Price, Lord Karnes, have labored to make discoveries; nor have they labored in vain. For, however different and contrary their conclusions are, hov^^-ever skeptical some of them, they have all given new light, and helped to clear the way for their successors. ' We ought never to despair of human genius, but rather to hope, that, in time, it may produce a system of the powers and operations of the human mind, no less certain than those of optics or astronomy. III. Grounds on tvldch the Study is recommended,'] This is the more devoutly to be wished, as a distinct knowledge of the powers of the mind would undoubt- edly give great light to many other branches of science. Mr, Hume has justly observed, that " all the sciences have a relation to hunian nature ; and, however wide any of them may seem to run from it, they still re- turn back by one passage or another. This is the cen- tre and capitol of the sciences, which being once masters of, we may easily extend our conquests everywhere." The faculties of our minds are the tools and engines we must use in every disquisition ; and the better we understand their nature and force, the more success- fully we shall be able to apply them. Mr. Locke gives this account of the occasion of his entering upon his Essay concerning Human Understanding : — " Five or six friends," says he, " meeting at my chamber, and discoursing on a subject very remote from this, found themselves quickly at a stand, by the difficulties that rose oi> every side. After we had for a while puzzled ourselves, without coming any nearer to a resolution of those doubts that perplexed us, it came into my thoughts that we took a wrong course ; and that, before we set ourselves upon inquiries of that nature, it was necessary to examine our own abilities, and see what objects our understandings were fitted or not fitted to deal with. This I proposed to the company, who all readily assented ; and thereupon it was agreed b XIV PREFACE. that this should be our first inquiry.^' If this be com- monly the cause of perplexity in those disquisitions which have least relation to the mind, it must be so much more in those that have an immediate connec- tion with it. The scienjes may be distinguished into two classes, according as they pertain to the material or to the in- tellectual world. The various parts of natural philoso- phy, the mechanical arts, chemistry, medicine, and agriculture, belong to the first ; but to the last belong grammar, logic, rhetoric, natural theology, morals, ju- risprudence, lav/, politics, and the fine arts. The knowledge of the human mind is the root from which" these gi'ow and draw their nourishment.* Whether, therefore, we consider the dignity of this subject, or its subserviency to science in general, and to the noblest branches of science in particular, it highly deserves to be cultivated. * It is justly observed by M. JoufFroy, that the division here enounced is not in principle identical Avith that previously propounded, -r- H. JoufFroy objects to the distinction made by the Scotch philosophers be- tween the physical sciences, and the moral or philosophical sciences, as not being sufficiently exact and precise. He says : — " In this world there are two orders of phenomena perfectly distinct, — physical phenomena, and in- tellectual and moral phenomena, which I shall call, for brevity's sake, ma- terial 'phenomena and mental phenomena. It is by the senses and in the ex- ternal world that we apprehend and know the first; it is by consciousness and within our own minds that we attain to the second, for in the theatre of consciousness alone are we able to observe them immediately and in themselves. Elsewhere we see the effects or the material symbols of men- tal phenomena, but we could not comprehend the cause of these effects, or the meaning of these symbols, except by the knowledge which we first ac- quire in ourselves of this order of phenomena. Now every possible scien- tific question is resolved by a knowledge of the laws of one or the other of these two orders 6T plienomena. Every question which finds its solution in the laws of material phenomena belongs to physics; every^ (Question which finds its solution in the laws of mental phenomena belongs to philos- ophy ; every question, in fine, the solution of which presupposes at the same time a knowledge of the laws of some material phenomena and of some mental phenomena, is mixed, and partakes of the double nature of philosophical questions and physical questions. On Avhat, then, depends the^ nature of any given question, and consequently that of the science which is to resolve it? On the nature of the phenomena; and as these phenomena arc perfectly distinct, and apprehended by faculties which are equally so, the separation established by common sense between the philo- sophical sciences and the physical sciences is at once completely justified, and clearly explained and defined." —Preface to his (Etivres Completes de Tliomas Reirl p. xHi. —Ed. F PREFACE. ' XV A very elegant v^riter on the sublime and beautiful concludes his account of the passions thus : — " The variety of the passions is great, and worthy, in every branch of that variety, of the most diligent investiga- tion. The more accurately we search into the human mind, the stronger traces we everyiuhere find of His wisdom who made it. If a discourse on the use of the parts of the body may be considered as a hymn to the Creator, the use of the passions, which are the organs of the mind, cannot be barren of praise to Him, nor unproductive to ourselves of that noble and un- common union of science and admiration, which a contemplation of the works of Infinite Wisdom alone can afford to a rational mind ; whilst referring to Him whatever we find of right, or good, or fair, in our- selves, discovering his strength and wdsdom even in our own weakness and imperfection, honoring them where we discover them clearly, and adoring their profundity where we are lost in our search, we may be inquisitive without impertinence, and elevated without pride ; we may be admitted, if I may dare to say so, into the counsels of the Almighty, by a consideration of his works. This elevation of the mind ought to be the principal end of all our studies, which, if they do not in some measure effect, they are of very little ser- vice to us.'' * Burke's Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful^ Part I. Sect. For ampler discussion of the topics in this Preface, see Descartes, Dis- cours de la Methode. Stewart. Elemeiits of the Pldlosophy of the Human Mindj Introduction ; and Philosophical Essays, Preliminary Dissertation. Brown, Lectures on the Philosophy of the Human Mind, Lect. I.- IV. Cou- sin, Cours de 1828, Leqons I. et II. This volume has been translated into English by Mr. Linberg, under the title of Introduction to the History of Philosophy. Jouffroy, Prefaces to his Esquisses de Philosophic Morale de Dugald Stewart, and (Euvjts de Reid. Mr. Pipley has given an Englisli version of the former in his Philosophical Miscellanies, Vol. II. Sir W. Hamilton says also of the latter, that it " will soon be made generally ac- cessible to the British public by a highly competent translator." On the division and organization of the sciences, and the relation of psy- chology to the rest, compare Jouffroy, Nouveaux Melanges Philosophiques. Comte, Philosophie Positive, Le^on II. Coleridge, General Introduction to ITie Encyclopocdia Metropolitana. — Ed. ESSAYS ON THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS OF MAN. PRELIMINARY ESSAY. CHAPTER I. EXPLICATION OF WORDS. I. On the Definition of Terms,] There is no greater impediment to the advancement of knowledge than the cunbiguity of words. To this chiefly it is owing that we find sects and parties in most branches of science, and disputes, which are carried on from age to age, without being brought to an issue. Sophistry has been more effectually excluded from mathematics and natural philosophy than from other sciences. In mathematics it had no place from the beginning ; mathematicians having had the wisdom to define accurately the terms they use^ and to lay down, as axioms, the first principles on which their reasoning is grounded. Accordingly, we find no parties among maihematicians, and hardly any disputes.* In natural philosophy there was no less sophistry, no less dispute and uncertainty, than in other sciences, until, about a century and a half ago, this science began to be built upon the foundation of clear defini- '^ It was not the superior wisdom of mathematicians, but tlie simple and palpable character of their object-matter, which determined the differ ence. — 11. 1 2 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. tions and self-evident axioms. Since that time, the science, as if watered with the dew of heaven, has grown apace ; disputes have ceased, truth has prevailed, and the science has received greater increase in two centuries than in two thousand years before. It were to be wished that this method, which has been so successful in those branches of science, were attempted in others ; for definitions and axioms are the foundations of all science. But that definitions may not be sought where no definition can be given, nor logical definitions be attempted where the subject does not admit of them, it may be proper to lay down some general principles concerning definition, for the sake of those who are less conversant in this branch of logic. "When one undertakes to explain any art or scienccj he will have occasion to use many words that are com- mon to all who use the same language, and some that are peculiar to that art or science. Words of the last kind are called terms of the art^ and ought to be dis- tinctly explained, that their meaning may be under- stood. A definition is nothing else but an explication of the meaning of a word, by words whose meaning is already known. Hence it is evident, that every word cannot be defined ; for the definition must consist of words ; and there could be no definition, if there were not words previously understood without definition. Common words, therefore, ought to be used in their common ac- ceptation ; and when they have different acceptations in common language, these, when it is necessary, ought to be distinguished. But they require no definition. It is sufficient to define words that are uncommon, or that are used in an uncommon meaning. It may further be observed, that there are many words which, though they may need explication, cannot be logically defined. A logical definition, that is, a strict and proper definition, must express the kind {genus) of the thing defined, and the specific difference by which the species defined is distinguished from every other species belonging to that land. It is natiural to EXPLICATION OF WORDS, O the mind of man to class things under various kinds, and again to subdivide every kind into its various species. A species may often be subdivided into sub- ordinate species, and then it is considered as a kind. From what has been said of logical definition, it is evident that no word can be logically defined which does not denote a species ; because such things only can have a specific difference ; and a specific difference is essential to a logical definition. On this account there can be no logical definition of individual thing's. such as London or Paris. Lidividuals are distinguished either by proper names, or by accidental circumstances of time or place ; but they have no specific difference ; and therefore, though they may be known by proper names, or mat/ be described by circumstances or rela- tions, they cannot be defined. It is no less evident, that the most general words cannot be logically defined, because there is not a more general term of which they are a species. Nay, we cannot define every species of things^ be- cause it happens sometimes that ive have not words to express the specific difference. Thus a scarlet color is, no doubt, a species of color; but how shall we express the specific difference by which scarlet is distinguished from green or blue ? The difference between them is immediately perceived by the eye ; but we have not words to express it. These things we are taught by logic. Without having recourse to the principles of logic, we may easily be satisfied that words cannot be defined which signify things perfectly simple, and void of all composition. This observation, I think, was first made by Descartes, and afterwards more fully illustrated by Locke.* But however obvious it appears to be, many * This is incorrect. Descartes has little and Locke no title to praise for this observation. It had been made by Aristotle, and after him by many others ; while, subsequent to Descartes, and previous to Loclce^ Pas- cal and the Port-Royal logicians, to say nothing of a paper of Leibnitz, in 1G81, had reduced it to a matter of commonplace. In this instance Locke can, indeed, be proved a borrower. Mr. Stewart, Philosophical Essays, Note 4 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. instances may be given of great philosophers who have perplexed and darkened the subjects they have treated, by not knowing or not attending to it. When men attempt to define things which cannot be defined, their definitions will always be either ob- scure or false. It was one of the capital defects of Aristotle's philosophy, that he pretended to define the simplest things, which neither can be nor need to be defined ; such as time and motion. Among modern philosophers, I know none that has abused definition so much as Wolf, the famous German philosopher, who, in a work on the human mind, called Psychologia Empirica, consisting of many hundred propositions, fortified by demonstrations, with a proportional accom- paniment of definitions, corollaries, and scholia, has given so many definitions of things w^hich cannot be defined, and so many demonstrations of things self- evident, that the greatest part of the work consists of tautology, and ringing changes upon words. 11. Explication of some of the most frequently recur- ring- Te7'ms in Psychology,] There is no subject in which there is more frequent occasion to use words that cannot be logically defined, than in treating of the powers and operations of the mind. The simplest operations of our minds must all be expressed by words of this kind. No man can explain by a logical defini- tion what it is to think, to apprehend, to believe, to ivill, to desire. Every man who understands the language has some notion of the meaning of these words ; and every man who is capable of reflection may, by attend- ing to the operations of his own mind which are signi- fied by them, form a clear and distinct notion of them ; but they cannot be logically defined. Since, therefore, it is often impossible to define words which we must use on this subject, we must as much A, is wrong in thinking that, after Descartes, Lord Stair is the earliest philosopher by whom this logical principle was enounced ; for Stair, as a writer, is subsequent to the authors adduced. — H. EXPLICATION or WORDS. 5 as possible use coinmon ivords in their common accepta- tion^ pointing out their various senses where they are ambiguous ; and when we are obliged to use words less common, we must endeavour to explain them as well as we can, without affecting to give logical definitions, when the nature of the thing does not admit of them. The following observations on the meaning of cer- tain words are intended to supply, as far as we can, the want of definitions, by preventing ambiguity or obscurity in the use of them. 1. The Mind, — By the mind of a man we under- stand that in him which thinks, remembers, reasons, wills. The essence both of body and of mind is un- known to us. We know certain properties of the first, and certain operations of the last, and by these only we can define or describe them. We define body to be that lohich is extended^ solid, movable, divisible. In like manner we define mind to be that luhich thinks. We are conscious that we think, and that we have a variety of thoughts of different kinds ; such as seeing, hearing, remembering, deliberating, resolving, loving, hating, and many other kinds of thought, all which we are taught by nature to attribute to one internal principle ; and this principle of thought we call the mind or soul of a man. 2. Operations of the Mind. — By the operations * of the mind, we understand every mode of thinkhig of which we are conscious. It deserves our notice, that the various modes of thinking have always, and in all languages, as far as we know, been called by the name of operations of the mind, or by names of the same import. To body we ascribe various properties, but not operations, properly so called ; it is extended, divisible, movable, inert ; it continues in any state in which it is put ; every change of its state is the effect of some force impressed upon it, and is exactly proportional to the force impressed, * Operation^ act, energy , arc nearly convertible terms ; and are opposed to facultij (of which anon), as the actual to the potential. — li. I.M. 6 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. and in the precise direction of that force. These are the general properties of matter, and these are not operations; on the contrary, they all imply its being a dead, inactive thing, which moves only as it is moved, and acts only by being acted upon. But the mind is, from its very nature, a living and active being. Every thing we know of it implies life and active energy ; and the reason why all its modes of thinking are called its operations is, that in all, or in most of them, it is not merely passive, as body is, but is really and properly active. In all ages, and in all languages, ancient and modern, the various modes of thinking have been expressed by words of active signification, such as seeing, hearing, reasoning, willing, and the like. It seems, therefore, to be the natural judgment of mankind, that the mind is active in its various ways of thinking ; and for this reason they are called its operations^ and are expressed by active verbs. It may be made a question. What regard is to be paid to this natural judgment? May it not be a vul- gar error ? Philosophers who think so have, no doubt, a right to be heard. But until it is proved that the mind is not active in thinking, but merely passive, the common language with regard to its operations ought to be used, and ought not to give place to a phraseology invented by philosophers, which implies its being merely passive. 3. Powers and Faculties of the Mind. — The words power ^xiA faculty^ which are often used in speaking of the mind, need little explication. Every operation supposes a power in the being that operates ; for to suppose any thing to operate which has no power to operate is manifestly absurd. But, on the other hand, there is no absurdity in supposing a being to have power to operate when it does not operate. Thus, I may have power to walk when I sit, or to speak when I am silent. Every operation, therefore, implies power ; but the power does not imply the operation. The factilties of the mind, and its potvers, are often EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 7 used as synonymous expressions. But as most syno- nymes have some minute distinction that deserves notice, I apprehend that th^ word faculty is most prop- erly applied to those powers of the mind which are original and natural^ and which make a part of the constitution of the mind. There are other powers which are acquired by use, exercise, or study, which are not called faculties, but habits. There must be some- thing in the constitution of the mind necessary to our being able to acquire habits, and this is commonly called capacity,"^ 4. Subject and Object. — We frequently meet with a distinction, in writers upon this subject, between things in the mind and things external to the mind. The powers, faculties, and operations of the mind are things in the mind. Every thing is said to be in the mind of which the mind is the subject. It is self-evident, that there are some things which cannot exist without a subject to which they belong, and of which they are attributes. Thus, color must be in something colored ; figure in something figured; thought can only be in something that thinks ; wisdom and virtue cannot exist but in some being that is wise and virtuous. When, therefore, we speak of things in the mind, we under- stand by this, things of which the mind is the subject. Excepting the mind itself and things in the mind, all other things are said to be external. It ought, there- fore, to be remembered, that this distinction between things in the mind and things external is not meant to signify the place of the things we speak of, but their subject. There is a figm^ative sense in which things are said to be in the mind, which it is sufficient barely to men- tion. We say. Such a thing was not in my mind, * These terms properly stand in the follov,^ing relations : — powers are active and passive, natural and acquired. Powers natural and active are called faculties ; powers natural and passive, capacities or receptivities ; powers acquired arc habits, and habit is used both in an active and in a passive sense. The power, again, of acquiring a habit, is called a dispo- sition. — II. 8 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. meaning no more than that we had not the least thought of it. By a figure, we put the thing for the thought of it. In this sense, external 'things are in the mind as often as they are the objects of our thought. Most of the operations of the mind, from their very nature, must have objects to which they are directed, and about which they are employed. He that perceives must perceive something ; and that which he perceives is called the object of his perception. To perceive, without having any object of perception, is impossible. The mind that perceives, the object perceived, and the operation of perceiving that object, are distinct things, and are distinguished in the structure of all languages. In this sentence, " I see or perceive the moon," / is the person or mind; the active verb see denotes the operation of that mind, and the moon denotes the object. What we have said of perceiving is equally applicable to most operations of the mind. Such operations are, in all languages, expressed by active transitive verbs ; and we know that, in all languages, such verbs require a thing or person, which is the agent, and a noun follow- ing in an oblique case, which is the object. Whence it is evident that all mankind, both those who have contrived language, and those who use it w^ith under- standing, have distinguished these three things as dif- ferent, — to wit, the operations of the mind, which are expressed by active verbs, the mind itself, which is the nominative to those verbs, and the object^ which is, in the oblique case, governed by them.* * Subject and ohject are correlative terms. The former is properly id in quo ; the latter, id circa quod. Hence, in psychological language, the sub- ject^ absolutely, is the mind that knows or thinks, — i. e. the mind con- sidered as the subject of knowledge or thought ', the object, that which is known, or thought about. The adjectives subjective and objective are con- venient, if not indispensable expressions. The antithesis between ??2i/5e//' and wliat is not myself is sometimes express- ed by an awkward use of the pronoun Z. In English we cannot say the 1 and the not- 1 so happily as the French le moi and le non-moi, or even the German das Ich and das nicht-Ich. The ambiguity arising from the iden- tity of sound between the I and the eye would of itself preclude the ordi- nary employment of the former. The ego and tlie non-ego are the best terms we can use; and as the expressions arc scientific, it is perhaps no loss that their tccliuical precision ir. gannled by tlicir non-vernacularity. — H. EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 9 5. Idea, — When, in common language, we speak of having an idea of any thing, we mean no more by that expression than thinking of it. The vulgar allow, that this expression implies a mind that thinks, an act of that mind which we call thinking, and an object about which it thinks. But, besides these three, the philoso- pher conceives that there is a fourth, — to wit, the idea^ which is the immediate object. The idea is in the mind itself, and can have no existence but in the mind that thinks ; but the remote or mediate object may be some- thing external, as the sun or moon ; it may be some- thing past or future ; it may be something which never existed. This is the philosophical meaning of the word idea; and we may observe, that this meaning of that word is built upon a philosophical opinion ; for, if philosophers had not believed that there are such im- mediate objects of all our thoughts in the mind, they would never have used the word idea to express them.* I shall only add on this article, that, although I may have occasion to use the word idea in this philosophical sense in explaining the opinions of others, I shall have no occasion to use it in expressing my own, because I believe ideas^ taken in this sense, to be a mere fiction of philosophers. And in the popular meaning of the word there is the less occasion to use it, because the English words thought^ notion^ apprehension^ answer the purpose as well as the Greek word idea^ with this ad- vantage, that they are less ambiguous. There is, indeed, a meaning of the word idea^ which I think most agree- able to its use in ancient philosophy, and which I would willingly adopt, if use, the arbiter of language, did per- mit. But this will come to be explained afterwards. I have premised these observations on the meaning of certain words that frequently occur in treating of this subject, for two reasons : firsts that I may be the * As we proceed, we shall have frequent occasion to notice the limited I meaning attached by Reid to the term idea^ viz. something in or present to the mind, but not a mere modification of the mind ; and also his error in supposing that all the philosopliers who accepted the theory of ideas ac cepted it under this crude form — Ed. 10 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. better understood when 1 use them ; and secondly^ that those who would make any progress in this branch of science may accustom themselves to attend very care- fully to the meaning of words that are used in it. They may be assured of this, that the ambiguity of words^ and the vague and improper application of them, have thrown more darkness upon this subject than the sub- tilty and intricacy of things. When we use common words, we ought to use them in the sense in which they are most commonly used by the best and purest writers in the language ; and whe^ we have occasion to enlarge or restrict the meaning of a common word, or to give it more precision than it has in common language, the reader ought to have warning of this, otherwise we shall impose upon our- selves and upon him. Other words that need explication shall be explained as they occur.* CHA^PTER II. OF HYPOTHESES. I. Pf oneness of Philosophers to build on Hypotheses,] Every branch of human knowledge has its proper prin- ciples, its proper foundation arid method of reasoning ; and if we endeavour to build it upon any other foun- dation, it will never stand firm and stable. Thus the historian builds upon testimony, and rarely indulges conjecture. The antiquarian mixes conjecture with testimony; and the former often makes the larger in- 1 gredient. The mathematician pays not the least regard I ** As a convenient manual for the explication of technical terms in psy-| chology we can recommend Isaac Taylor's Elements of Thought ; or, Con- cise Explanations {alphabet icalli/ arranged) of the Principal Terms employed\ in the Several Branches of Intellectual Philosophy. Still better for this pur- pose is the Dictionnaire des Sciences Philosophiques, now in course of publi- cation. — Ed. OF HYPOTIJESES. 11 either to testimony or conjecture, but deduces every thing, by demonstrative reasoning, from his definitions and axioms. Indeed, whatever is built upon conjec- ture is improperly called science ; for conjecture may beget opinion, but cannot produce knowledge. Natu- ral philosophy must be built upon the phenomena of the material system, discovered by observation and ex- periment. When men first began to philosophize, that is, to carry their thoughts beyond the objects of sense, and to inquire into the causes of things, and the secret opera- tions of nature, it was very natural for them to indulge conjecture ; nor was it to be expected that, in many ages, they should discover the proper and scientific way of proceeding in philosophical disquisitions. Accord- ingly, we find that the most ancient systems in every branch of philosophy were nothing but the conjectures of men famous for their wisdom, whose fame gave authority to their opinions. Thus, in early ages, wise men conjectured that this earth is a vast plain, sur- rounded on all hands by a boundless ocean; that from this ocean the sun, moon, and stars emerge at their rising, and plunge into it again at their setting. With regard to the mind, men in their rudest state are apt to conjecture, that the principle of life in a man is his breath ; because the most obvious distinction be- tween a living and a dead man is, that the one breathes and the other does not. To this it is owing, that, in ancient languages, the word which denotes the soul is that which properly signifies breath or air. As men advance in knowledge, their first conjectures appear silly and childish, and give place to others which tallv better with later observations and discoveries. Thus, one system of philosophy succeeds another, with- out any claim to superior merit but this, that it is a more ingenious system of conjectures, and accounts better for common appearances. To omit many ancient systems of this kind, Des- Icartes, about the middle of the last century, dissatisfied with the viateria prima^ the substantial fornis^ and the 12 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. occult qualities of the Peripatetics, conjectured boldly, that the heavenly bodies of our systerri are carried round by a vortex or whirlpool of subtile matter, just as straws and chaff are carried round in a tub of water. He conjectured that the soul is seated in a small gland in the brain, called the pineal gland; that there, as in her chamber of presence, she receives intelligence of every thing that affects the senses, by means of a subtile fluid contained in the nerves, called the animal spirits ; and that she despatches these animal spirits, as her messengers, to put in motion the several muscles of the body, as there is occasion.* By such conjectures as these, Descartes could account lor every phenomenon in nature in such a plausible manner as gave satisfac- tion to a great part of the learned world for more than half a century. Such conjectures in philosophical matters have com- monly got the name of hypotheses or theories.^ And the invention of an hypothesis, founded on some slight probabilities, which accounts for many appearances of nature, has been considered as the highest attainment of a philosopher. If the hypothesis hangs well to- gether, is embellished by a lively imagination, and serves to account for common appearances, it is con- sidered by many as having all the qualities that should recommend it to our belief, and all that ought to be required in a philosophical system. There is such proneness in men of genius to invent * It is not, however, to be supposed that Descartes allowed the soul to be seated by local presence in any part of the body ; for the smallest point of body is still extended, and mind is absolutely simple and incapable of occupying place. The pineal gland, in the Cartesian doctrine, is only analogically called the seat of the soul, inasmuch as this is viewed as the central point of the corporeal organism ; but while through this point the mind and body are mutually connected, that connection is not one of a mere physical dependence, as they do not operate on each other by direct and natural causation. — H. t Reid uses the terms theory^ hypothesis^ and conjecture as convertible, and always in an unfavorable acceptation. Herein there is a double inaccu racy. But of this again. — H. Almost every theory^ e. g. that of gravitation, or the Copernican system, was an hypothesis in the beginning, but after being verified by facts it ceased to be an hypothesis. — Ed. OF HYPOTHESES. 13 hypotheses^ and in, others to acquiesce in them as the utmost which the human faculties can attain in philoso- phy, that it is of the last consequence to the progress of real knowledge, that men should have a clear and distinct understanding of the nature of hypotheses in philosophy, and of the regard that is due to them. II. A priori Improbability of such Hypotheses,] Al- though some conjectures may have a considerable de- gree of probability, yet it is evidently in the nature of conjecture to be uncertain. In every case, the assent ought to be proportioned to the evidence ; for to believe firmly what has but a small degree of probability is a manifest abuse of our understanding. Now, though we may, in many cases, form very probable conjectures concerning the works of men, every conjecture we can form with regard to the works of God has as little probability as the conjectures of a child with regard to the works of a man. The wisdom of God exceeds that of the wisest man, more than that of the wisest man exceeds the wisdom of a child. If a child were to conjecture how an army is to be formed in the day of battle, how a city is to be fortified, or a state gov- erned, what chance has he to guess right? As little chance has the wisest man, when he pretends to con- jecture how the planets move in their courses, how the sea ebbs and flows, and how our minds act upon our bodies. If a thousand of the greatest wits that ever the world produced were, without any previous knowledge in anatomy, to sit down and contrive how, and by what internal organs, the various functions of the human body are carried on, — how the blood is made to circu- late, and the limbs to move, — they would not in a thousand years hit upon any thing like the truth.* Of * " Nothing can be juster than this remark ; but docs it authorize the conclusion, that, to an experienced and skilful anatomist, conjectures founded on analogy and the consideration of uses are of no avail as media of dis- covery ^ The logical inference, indeed, from Dr. Reid's own statement is, riot against anatomical conjecturcii in general, but against the anatomical 9 14 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. all the discoveries that have been made concerning the inward structure of the human body, never one was made by conjecture. Accurate observations of anato- mists have brought to light innumerable artifices of nature in the contrivance of this machine of the human body, which we cannot but admire as excellently adapted to their several purposes. But the most sa- gacious physiologist never dreamed of them till they were discovered. On the other hand, innumerable conjectures, formed in different ages, with regard to the structure of the body, have been confuted by ob- servation, and none ever confirmed. What we have said of the internal structure of the human body may be said, with justice, of every other part of the works of God, wherein any real discovery has been made. Such discoveries have always been made by patient observation, by accurate experiments, or by conclusions drawn by strict reasoning from observations and ex- periments ; and such discoveries have always tended to refute, and not to confirm, the theories and hypotheses which ingenious men had invented. As this is a fact confirmed by the history of philos- ophy in all past ages, it ought to have taught men, long ago, to treat with just contempt hypotheses in every branch of philosophy, and to despair of ever ad- vancing real knowledge in that way. The Indian phi- losopher, being at a loss to know how the earth was supported, invented the hypothesis of a huge elephant; and this elephant he supposed to stand upon the back of a huge tortoise. This hypothesis, however ridiculous it appears to us, might seem very reasonable to other Indians, who knew no more than the inventor of it; and the same will be the fate of all hypotheses invent- ed by m^en to account for the works of God : they may have a decent and plausible appearance to those who are not more knowing than the inventor; but when conjectures of those who are ignorant of anatomy." — Stewart's Elements Part II. Chap. IX. § 2. Harvey's theory of the circulation of the blooi bcf^an in a conjecture founded on the doctrine of final causes. — Ed. OF HYPOTHESES. 15 men come to be more enlightened, they will always appear ridiculous and childish. This has been the case with regard to hy])otheses that have been revered by the most enlightened part of mankind for hundreds of years ; and it will always be the case to the end of the world. For until the wis- dom of men bear some proportion to the wisdom of God, their attempts to find out the structure of his works by the force of their wit and genius will be vain. The world has been so long befooled by hypotheses in all parts of philosophy, that it is of the utmost con- sequence to every man, who would make any progress in real knowledge, to treat them with just contempt, as the reveries of vain and fanciful men, whose pride makes them conceive themselves able to unfold the mysteries of nature by the force of their genius. A learned man, in an epistle to Descartes, has the follow- ing observation, which very much deserved the atten- tion of that philosopher, and of all that come after him : — "When men, sitting in their closet, and consulting- only their books, attempt disquisitions into nature, they may, indeed, tell how they would have made the world, if God had given them that in commission ; that is, they may describe chimeras which correspond with the imbecility of their own minds, no less than the admirable beauty of the universe corresponds with the infinite perfection of its Creator ; but without an understanding truly divine, they can never form such an idea to themselves as the Deity had in creating things." III. The only Legitimate Rules of Philosophizing.] Let us, therefore, lay down this as a fundamental prin- ciple in our inquiries into the structure of the mind and its operations, that no regard is due to the conjec- tures or hypotheses of philosophers, however ancient, however generally received. Let us accustom our- selves to try every opinion by the touchstone of fact and experience. What can fairly be deduced from facts duly observed, or sufficiently attested, is genuine 16 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. and pure ; it is the voice of God, and no fiction of hu- man imagination. The first rule of philosophizing laid down by the great Newton is this : — Causas rerum naturalimn^ non plures admitti debere^ quam quce et vera sini^ et earum phcenomenis explicandis sUjfficia7it, — " No more causes, nor any other causes of natural effects, ought to be ad- mitted, but such as are both true, and are sufficient for explaining their appearances." This is a golden rule; it is the true and proper test, by which what is sound and solid in philosophy may l3e distinguished from what is hollow and vain.* If a philosopher, therefore, pretend to show us the cause of any natural effect, whether relating to matter or to mind, let ms Jirst consider whether there be suffix cient evidence that the cause he assigns does really exist If there be not, reject it with disdain, as a fiction which ought to have no place in genuine philosophy. If the cause assigned really exist, consider in the next plarx tvhether the effect it is brought to explain necessarily follows from it. Unless it have these two conditions, it is good for nothing. When Newton had shown the admirable effects of gravitation in our planetary system, he must have felt a strong desire to know its cause. He could have in- vented a hypothesis for this purpose, as many had done before him. But his philosophy was of another complexion. Let us hear what he says : — Rationem harum gravitatis proprietatum ex pha^nomenis non potui deducere^ et hypotheses non fingo. Quicquid enim ex phcenomenis non deducitur^liypothesis vocanda est. Et hypotheses^ sen metaphysicce, seu physicce, sen qualitatum occultarium, seu mechanicce^ in philosophia experimentali locum non habent.f * For this rule we are not indebted to Newton. It is only the old law of parsimony, and that ambiguously expressed. For in their plain mean- ing, the words et vera sint are redundant ; or what follows is redundant, and the whole rule a barren truism.— H. [Compare Whewell, Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, Book XII. Chap. XIII. —Ed.] t "I have not been able to deduce from phenomena the cause of these properties of gravity, and / do not frame hypotheses. For whatever is not OF ANALOGY. 17 CHAPTER III. OF ANALOGY. I. Nature and Uses of Analogical Reasoning,] It is natural to men to judge of things less known by some similitude they observe, or think they observe, between deduced from phenomena must be termed hypothesis. And hypotheses, whether regarding physics, metaphysics, occult qualities, or mechanics, have no place in experimental philosophy." On the use of hypotheses, with its just limitations, compare Stewart* Elements, Part II. Chap. IX. § 2 ; Herschel, Prelimmary Discourse, Part II. Chap. VII. ; Mill, Sifstem of Logic, Book III. Chap. XIII. §§4-7. The latter observes : — " When Newton said. Hypotheses non Jingo, he did not mean, that he deprived himself of the facilities of investigation afforded by assuming, in the first instance, what he hoped ultimately to be able to prove. Without such assumptions, science could never have attained its present state : they are necessary steps in the progress to something more certain; and nearly every thing which is now theory was once hypothesis. Even in purely experimental science, some inducement is necessary for trying one experiment rather than another ; and although it is abstractedly possible that all the experiments which have been tried might have been ]Droduced by the mere desire to ascertain what would happen in certain circumstances, without any previous conjecture as to the result, yet, in point of fact, those unobvious, delicate, and often cumbrous and tedious processes of experiment, which have thrown most light upon the general constitution of nature, would hardly ever have been undertaken by the persons or at the time they were, unless it had seemed to depend on them whether some general doctrine or theory which had been suggested, but not yet proved, should be admitted or not. If this be true even of merely experimental inquiry, the conversion of experimental into inductive truths could still less have been effected without large temporary assistance from hypotheses. The process of tracing regularity in any complicated, and at first sight confused, set of appearances, is necessarily tentative ; we begin by making any supposition, even a false one, to see what consequences v.'ill follow from it ; and by observing how these differ from the real i^he- nomcna, we learn what corrections to make in our supposition. Let any one watch the manner in which he himself unravels any complicated mass of evidence : let him observe how, for instance, he elicits the true history of any occurrence from the involved statements of one or of many wit- nesses. He will find, that he does not take all the items of evidence into liis mind at once, and attempt to weave them together : the human facul- ties are not equal to such an undertaking: he extemporizes, from a few of the particulars, a first rude theory of the mode in which the facts took place, and then looks at the other statements, one by one, to try whether tlicy can be reconciled with that provisional theory, or what corrections or additions it rc([uires to make it square with them. In rhis way, which, as M. Conite rcnKirks, has scvnc resemblance to the methods of approxima- 2 ■ ]8 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. them and things more familiar or better known. In many cases, we have no better way of judging. And where the things compared have really a great simili- tude in their nature, when there is reason to think that they are subject to the same laws, there may be a con- siderable degree of probability in conclusions drawn from analogy. Thus, we may observe a very great similitude be- tween this earth which we inhabit, and the other plan- ets, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, Venus, and Mercury. They all revolve round the sun, as the earth does, although at different distances, and in different periods. They bor- row all their light from the sun, as the earth does. Several of them are known to revolve round their axes like the earth, and, by that means, must have a like succession of day and night. Some of them have moons, that serve to give them light in the absence of the sun, as our moon does to us. They are all, in their motions, subject to the same law of gravitation as the earth is. From all this similitude, it is not un- reasonable to think, that those planets may, like our tion of mathematicians, we arrive, by means of hypotheses, at conclusions not hypothetical.*' In a note he adds : — " The attempt to localize, in different regions of the brain, the physical organs of our different mental faculties and propensi- ties, was, on the part of its original author, a strictly legitimate example of a scientific hypothesis ; and we ought not, therefore, to blame him for the extremely slight grounds on which he often proceeded, in an operation which could only be tentative, though we may regret that materials barely sufficient for a first nide hypothesis should have been hastily worked up by his successors mto the vain semhlance of a science. Whatever there may be of reality in the connection between the scale of mental endowments and the various degrees of complication in the cerebral system (and that there is some such connection, comparative anatomy seems strongly to in- dicate), it was in no other way so likely to be brought to light as by fram- ing, in the first instance, an hypothesis similar to that of Gall. But the verification of any such hypothesis is attended, from the peculiar nature of the phenomena, with difficulties which phrenologists have not hitherto shown themselves even competent to appreciate, much less to overcome." That Dr. Eeid has pushed his objections too far must be admitted. Still, the very example which Mr. Mill has given of a legitimate hypothe- sis admonishes us with how much danger to science the resort is attended, and strengthens our conviction that tlie spirit which dictated these objec- tions, and which they, in turn, are adapted to inspire, cannot be too highly comniciidod. — Ed OF ANALOGY. ' 19 earth, be the habitation of various orders of living crea- tures. There is some probability in this conclusio;j from analogy. In medicine, physicians must, for the most part, be directed in their prescriptions by analogy. The con- stitution of one human body is so like to that of another, that it is reasonable to think, that what is the cause of health or sickness to one may have the same effect upon another. And this generally is found true, though not without some exceptions. In politics we reason, for the most part, from analo- gy. The constitution of human nature is so similar in different societies or commonwealths, that the causes of peace and war, of tranquillity and sedition, of riches and poverty, of improvement and degeneracy, are much the same in all. Analogical reasoning, therefore, is not in all cases to be rejected. It may afford a greater or a less degree of probability, according as the things compared are more or less similar in their xiature. But it ought to be observed, that, as this kind of reasoning can afford only probable evidence at best, so, unless great caution be used, we are apt to be led into error by it. For men are naturcdly disposed to conceive a greater simili" tude in things than there really is* To give an instance of this. Anatomists, in ancient ages, seldom dissected human bodies ; but very often the bodies of those quadrupeds whose internal struc- ture was thought to approach nearest to that of the human body. Modern anatomists have discovered many mistakes the ancients were led into, by their conceiving a greater similitude between the structure of men and ot" some beasts than there is in reality. By this, and many other instances that might be given, it appears that conclusions built on analogy stand on a * Berkeley says : — ''We should proceed warily in such things, for we arc apt to lay too great a stress on analogies^ and, to the prejudice of truth, humor that eagerness of mind wliereby it is carried to extend its knowl- edge into general theorems." — Principles of Human Knowledge^ Parti. § IOC — Ed 20 PRELIMINARY ESSAY, slippery foundation ; and that we ought never to rest upon evidence of this kind, when we can have more direct evidence. I know no author Vv^ho has made a more just and a more happy use of this mode of reasoning than Bishop Butler, in his Analogy of Religion^ Natural and Re- vealed^ to the Constitution and Course of Nature, In that excellent work, the author does not ground any of the truths of religion upon analogy, as their proper evidence. He only makes use of analogy to answer objections against them. When objections are made against the truths of religion, which may be made with equal strength against what we know to be true in the course of nature, such objections can have no weight- Analogical reasoning, therefore, may be of excellent use, (1.) in answering objections against truths which have other evidence. It may likewise (2.) give a greater or a less degree of probability in cases where w^e can find no other evidence. But all arguments drawn from analogy are still the weaker, the greater disparity there is between the things compared ; and therefore must be weakest of all when we compare body with mind, because there are no two things in nature more un- like. II. Why a frequent Source of Error in Mental Sci- ence.] There is no subject in which men have always been so prone to form their notions by analogies of this kind as in what relates to the mind. We form an early acquaintance with material things by means of our senses, and are bred up in a constant familiarity with them. Hence we are apt to measure all things by them, and to ascribe to things most remote from matter the qualities that belong to material things. It is for this reason, that mankind have, in all ages, been so prone to conceive the mind itself to be some subtile kind of matter; that they have been disposed to ascribe hu- man figure^ and human organs^ not only to angels^ but even to the Deity, Though we are conscious of the operations of our own minds when they are exerted, OF ANALOGY. 21 and are capable of attending to them so as to form a distinct notion of them, this is so difficult a work to men whose attention is constantly solicited by external objects, that ive give them names from things that are familiar^ and which are conceived to have some simili- tude to them ; and the notions we form of them are no less analogical than the names we give them. Almost all the words by which we express the operations of the mind are borrowed from material objects. To un- derstandy to conceive, to imagine, to comprehend, to dc" liberate, to infe?*, and many others, are words of this kind; so that the very language of mankind, with regard to th« operations of our minds, is analogical. Because bodies are affected only by contact and pres- sure, ive are apt to conceive that what is an immediate object of thought, and affects the mind, must be in con- tact with tY, and make some impression upon it. When we imagine any thing, the very word leads us to think that there must be some image in the mind of the thing conceived. It is evident that these notions are drawn from some similitude conceived between body and mind, and between the properties of body and the oper- ations of raind. To illustrate more fully that analogical reasoning from a supposed similitude of mind to body, which I conceive to be the most fruitful source of errors with regard to the operations of our minds, I shall give an instance of it. When a man is urged by contrary motives, those on one hand inciting him to do some action, those on the other to forbear it, he deliberates about it, and at last resolves to do it, or not to do it. The contrary motives are here compared to the weights in the opposite scales of a balance ; and there is not, perhaps, any instance that can be named of a more striking analogy between body and mind. Hence the phrases of iveighing motives, of deliberating upon actions, are common to all lan- guages. From this analogy some philosophers draw very im- portant conclusions. They say, that, as the balance 22 PRELIMINARY ESSAY, cannot incline to one side more than the other, when the opposite weights are equal, so a man cannot pos- sibly determine himself, if the motives on both hands are equal ; and, as the balance must necessarily turn to that side which has most weight, so the man must necessarily be determined to that hand where the mo- tive is strongest. And on this foundation, some of the schoolmen* maintained, that, if a hungry ass were placed between two bundles of hay equally inviting, the beast must stand still and starve to death, being unable to turn to either, because there are equal mo- tives to both. This is an instance of that analogical reasoning which I conceive ought never to be trusted ; for the analogy between a balance and a man deliber- ating, though one of the strongest that can be found between matter and mind, is too weak to support any argument. A piece of dead, inactive matter, and an active, intelligent being, are things very unlike ; and because the one would remain at rest in a certain case, it does not follow that the other would be inactive in a case somewhat similar. The argument is no better than this : that, because a dead animal moves only as it is pushed, and, if pushed with equal force in con- trary directions, must remain at rest, therefore the same thing must happen to a living animal; for surely the f similitude between a dead animal and a living is as I great as that between a balance and a man. The conclusion I would draw from all that has been I said on analogy is, that, in our inquiries concerning the * This illustration is specially associated with Joannes Buridanus, a celebrated nominalist of the fourteenth century, and one of the acutest reasoners on the great question of moral liberty. The supposition of tlie ass, &c., is not, however, as I have ascertained, to be found in his writings. Perhaps it was orally advanced in disputation or in lecturing as an ex-l ample in illustration of his determinism ; perhaps it was employed by hisi opponents as an instance to reduce that doctrine to absurdity. With thisi latter view, a similar refutation of the principles of our modern fatalists] was ingeniously essayed by Keid's friend and kinsman, Dr. James Greg- ory. — H. For further illustrations of the grounds and scope of analogical reason- ing, see Archbishop Whately's lihetoric, Part I. Chap. II. § 6, and Mill's ^System of Lofjic, Book HI. Chap. XX. — Eu. MEANS OF KNOWING THE MIND, 23 mind and its operations, (1.) we ought never to trast to reasonings drawn from some supposed similitude of body to mind; and (2.) that we ought to be very much upon our guard, that we be not imposed upon by those an- alogical terms and phrases by which the operations of the mind are expressed in all languages. CHAPTER IV. ON THE PKOPEE, MEANS OF KNOWING THE OPERA- TIONS OE THE MINT). I. Subsidiai'f/ Sources of Knowledge respecting- the Mind.] Since we ought to pay no regard to hypothe- ses, and to be very suspicious of analogical reasoning, it may be asked, From what source must the knowl- edge of the mind and its faculties be drawn ? I answer, the chief and proper source of this branch of knowledge is accurate reflection upon the operations of our own minds. Of this source we shall speak more fully, after making some remarks upon two others that may be subservient to it. 1. The jBrst of them is attention to the structure of language. The language of mankind is expressive of their thoughts, and of the various operations of their minds. The various operations of the understanding, will, and passions, which are common to mankind, have various forms of speech corresponding to them in all languages, which are the signs of them, and by which they are expressed ; and a due attention to the signs may, in many cases, give considerable light to the things signified by them. There are in all languages modes of speech by which en signify their judgment or give their testimony ; ij^y which they accept or refuse ; by which they ask in- brmation or advice; by which they command, or hreaten, or supplicate ; by which they plight their faith 24 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. ill promises and contracts. If such operations were not common to , mankind, we should not find in all languages forms of speech by which they are expressed. All languages, indeed, have their imperfections ; they can never be adequate to all the varieties of human thought ; and therefore things may be really distinct in their nature, and capable of being distinguished by the human mind, which are not distinguished in common language. We can only expect, in the structure of languages, those distinctions which all mankind in the common business of life have occasion to make. There may be peculiarities in a particular language, of the causes of which we are ignorant, and from which, therefore, we can draw no conclusion. But whatever we find common to all languages must have a common cause ; must be owing to some common notion or senti- ment of the human mind. 2. Another source of information on this subject is a due attention to the course of human actions and opin- ions. The actions of men are eff*ects ; their sentiments, their passions, and their affections are the causes of those effects ; and we may, in many cases, form a judgment of the cause from the effect. The behaviour of parents towards their children gives sufficient evi- dence, even to those who never had children, that the parental affection is common to mankind. It is easy to see, from the general conduct of men, what are the natural objects of their esteem, their admiration, their love, their approbation, their resentment, and of all their other original dispositions. It is obvious, from the con- duct of men in all ages, that man is, by his nature, a social animal; that he delights to associate with his species, —to converse and to exchange good offices with them. Not only the actions^ but even the opinions^ of men may sometimes give light into the frame of the human mind. The opinions of men may be considered as the effects of their intellectual powers, as their actions are the effects of their active principles. Even the preju- dices and errors of mankind, when they are general. MEANS OF KNOWING THE MIND. 25 must have some caase no less general, the discovery of which will throw some light upon the frame of the human understanding. I conceive this to be the principal use of the history of 'philosophy. When we trace the history of the vari- ous philosophical opinions that have sprung up among thinking men, we are led into a labyrinth of fanciful opinions, contradictions, and absurdities, intermixed with some truths ; yet we may sometimes find a clew to lead us through the several windings of this laby- rinth ; we may J&nd that point of view which presented things to the author of the system in the light in which they appeared to hiip. This will often give a consis- tency to things seemingly contradictory, and some degree of probability to those that appeared most fan- ciful.* The history of philosophy, considered as a map of the intellectual operations of men of genius, must' always be entertaining, and may sometimes give us views of the human understanding which could not easily be had any other way. 11. Consciousness and ReflecUou.] I return to what I mentioned as the main source of information on this subject, — aUentive rejlection upon the operations of our own minds. All the notions we have of mind and of its opera- tions are, by Pvlr. Locke, called ideas of reflection.^ A man may have as distinct notions of remembrance, of judgment, of will, of desire, as he has of any object whatever. Such notions, as Mr. Locke justly observes, are got by the power of reflection. But what is this power of reflection? It is, says the same author, " that power by which the mind turns its view inward, and observes its own actions and operations." He observes elsewhere, that the understanding, like the eye, whilst it makes us see and perceive all other things, takes no Ti a "Every error," says Bossuct, "is a trutli abused." — H. t Locke is not (as lleid seems to think, and as Mr. Stewart expressly says) the lirst who introduced reficiiion^ eitlicr as a psychological term or as a psvcholo'^ical principle, ^ee Xole I. — H. 3 26 PRELIMINARY ESSAY, notice of itself;* and that it requires art and pains to set it at a distance, and make it its own object. This reflection oug^ht to be distinguished from con- sciousness^ with Ys^hich it is too often confounded, even by Mr. Locke. From infancy, till we come to the years of understanding, we are employed solely about external objects; and, although the mind is conscious of its operations, it does not attend to them ; its atten- tion is turned solely to the external objects about which those operations are employed. Thus, when a man is angry, he is conscious of his passion ; but his atten- tion is turned to the person who offended him, and the circumstances of the offence, while the passion of anger is not in the least the object of his attention. I conceive this is sufficient to show the difference between consciousness of the operations of our minds, and reflection upon them ; and to show that we may have the former without any degree of the latter. The difference between consciousness and reflection is like to the difference between a superficial view of an object which presents itself to the eye while we are engaged about something else, and that attentive examination which we give to an object when we are wholly em- ployed in surveying it. Attention is a voluntary act ; it requires an active exertion to begin and to continue it, and it may be continued as long as we will ; but consciousness i« involuntary and of no continuance, changing' ivitk every thought. The power of reflection upon the operations of their own minds does not appear at all in children. Men must be come to some ripeness of understanding be- fore they are capable of it. Of all the powers of the human mind, it seems to be the last that unfolds it- self. Most men seem incapable of acquiring it in any considerable degree. Like all our other powers, it is greatly improved by exercise ; and, until a man has got the habit of attending to the operations of his * After Cicero : — "At ut oculiis, sic animus se non videns alia ccrnit/ Tusc, I. 2S. — Ei>. MEANS OF KNOWING THE MIND. 21 own mind, he can never have clear and distinct notions of them, nor form any steady judgment concerning them. His opinions must be borrowed from others, his notions confused and indistinct, and he may easily be led to swallow very gross absurdities. To acquire this habit is a work of time and labor, even in those who begin it early, and whose natural talents are tol- erably fitted for it ; but the difficulty will be daily di- minishing, and the advantage of it is great. They will thereby be enabled to think with precision and accu- racy on every subject, especially on those subjects that are more abstract. They will be able to judge for themselves in many important points, w^herein others must blindly follow a leader.* * Consciousness is not a special faculty coordinate with perception and memory, but a general condition of mind considered as self-knowing, by which all the mental faculties are made available. Through consciousness the mind not only knows itself and the changes it undergoes, but also whatever it knows by means of any of its special faculties. V>^c are con- scious of remembering as we do ; we are conscious of perceiving as we do ; we are conscious of feeling as w^e do. Accordingly, as Sir W. Hamilton intimates elsewhere, the various faculties may be regarded as special modiH- cations of consciousness. If consciousness fails, all the special faculties fail. Very frequently, however, the term is used in a restricted sense, signifying the notice which the mind takes of itself and its operations and affections ; or internal obsrrvation in contradistinction to external observation, its acts being called by some, not perceptions, but apperceptions. So understood, consciousness is the witness and authority of all proper psychological facts. Thus Jouffroy : — " What is consciousness ? It is the feeling which the intelligent principle has of itself. This principle has the feeling of itself, and hence the consciousness of all the changes, all the modifications, which it undergoes. The only phenomena, then, of v/hicli it can have the consciousness, are those which are produced icitltin itself. Tliose which are produced bei/ond itsrlf] it can see ; but it cannot feel them. It can, then, have the consciousness of its sensations, because it is itself Avhich enjoys or suffers; or of its thoughts, its determinations, because it is itself wdiich thinks and determines: but it can have no consciousness of muscular con- traction, of digestion, of the circulation of the blood, because it is the mus- cle v.'hich contracts, tlie stomach Vv-^hich digests, the blood which circulates, and not itself ^J^hese j>liononicna, then, are precisely in the same relation to it as the phenomena of external nature; they are produced beijord if, and it can have no consciousness of them. Such is the true reason of tlie incapability of the consciousness to seize a multitude of phenomena which take place in the bochj, but which, on that account, are none the less exte- rior to the intelligent principle, to the real v.ie [ego\. On the other hand, the phenomena of consciousness bcino; onlv the inward modifications of the intelligent principle, that alone can perceive them, because it is that alone which experiences them; and because, in order to perceive them, it 28 PRELIMINARY ESSAY. CHAPTER V. DIVISION OF THE POWERS OF THE MIND. I. Division of the Mental Poivers into Understanding" and Will.] The powers of the mind are so many, so various, and so connected and complicated in most of its operations, that there never has been any division of them proposed which is not liable to considerable ob- jection. We shall therefore take that general divis- ion which is the most common, into the powers of understanding' and those of luill. Under the will we comprehend om' active powers, and all that lead to action, or influence the mind to act, such as appetites, passions, affections. The understanding comprehends our contemplative powers; by which we perceive ob- jects; by which we conceive or remember them; by which we analyze or compound them ; and by which we judge and reason concerning them. is necessary to feel them. For tliis reason, the phenomena of conscious- ness necessarily cscajDC all external observation." — Ripley's Philosophical Miscellanies^ Yol. II. p- 15. To the same effect Cousin : — " But is a knowledge of human nature, is psychology, possible ? Without doubt it is ; for it is an undeniable fact, that nothing passes witliin us which we do not know, of wliich we liave not a consciousness. Consciousness is a witness which gives us informa- tion of every thing which takes place in the interior of our minds. It is not the principle of any of our faculties, but is a light to them all. It is not because we have the consciousness of it, that any thing goes on within us ; but that which goes on within us would be to us as though it did not take place, if it were not attested by consciousness. It is not by conscious- ness that wc feel, or will, or think ; but it is by it that we know that we do all this Consciousness is indeed more or less distinct, more or less vivid, but it is in all men. No one is unknown to himself, althougli very few know themselves perfectly, because all, or nearly all, make use of con- sciousness without applying themselves to perfect, unfold, and understand it, hij voluntary effort and attention. In all men consciousness is a natural process ; some elevate this natural process to the degree of an art, a meth- od, by reflection, which is a sort of second consciousness, a free reproduc- tion of the first ; and as consciousness gives to all men a knowledge of what passes within them, so reflection gives the philosopher a certain knowledge of every thing which falls under the eye of consciousness. It is to be ob- served, that the question here is not concerning hypotheses or conjectures; for it is not even a qucsrion concerning a process of reasoning. It is solely DIVISION OF THE POWERS OF THE MIND. 29 Although this general division may be of use in order to our proceeding more methodically in our sub- ject, we are not to understand it as if, in those opera- tions which are ascribed to the understanding, there were no exertion of will or activity, or as if the under- standing were not employed in the operations ascribed to the will ; for I conceive there is no operation of the understanding wherein the mind is not active in some degree. We have some command over our thoughts, and can attend to this or that, of many objects which present themselves to our senses, to our memory, or to our imagination. We can survey an object on this side or that, superficially or accurately, for a longer or a shorter time ; so that our contemplative powers are under the guidance and direction of the active; and the former never pursue their object, without being led and directed, urged or restrained, by the latter : and because the understanding is always more or less di- rected by the will, mankind have ascribed some degree of activity to the mind in its intellectual operations, as well as in those which belong to the will, and have ex- a question of facts, and of facts that are equally capable of being observed as those which come to pajs on the scene of the outward world. The only difference is, the one is exterior, the other interior ; and as the natu- ral action of our faculties carries us outward, it is more easy to observe the one than the other. But with a little attention, voluntary exertion, and practice, one may succeed in internal observation as well as in external. The talent for the latter is not more common than for the former. The number of Bacons is not greater than the number of Descarteses." In a note the translator. Professor Henry, adds: — "In regard to the dis- tinction between the natural or spontaneous, and the philosophical or re- llected consciousness, it may be remarked, that, while Locke uses the word reflection to signify the natural consciousness comm.on to all reflecting be- ings, Cousin uses it above to imply a particular determination of conscious- jiess hi; the will. Coleridge makes the same distinction with Cousin ; but he does not consider the power of philosophical insight to be as common as Cousin would make it. ' It is neitlier possible,' says he, ' nor necessary for all men, or for many, to be philosoj.^hers. There is a philosophic (and, inasmuch as it is actualized by an etfort of freedom, an aHificial) con- sciousness which lies beneath, or, as it were, behind, the spontaneous con- sciousness natural to all reflecting beings.'" — Elements of Psjjchology^ Chap. I. Compare BroAvn, Lectures^ Lect. XL; Learn, Essaij on Con- sciousness.]), loeiseg.: Dictionnaire des Scie^ices Philosophiques, Art. Con- science ; also, in Blachtcood's Edinburgh 2fagazine, Vol. XLIII. - XLV., a series of ingenious papers, entitled An Introduction to the Philosophy of Consciousness. — Ld. o 30 PRELIMINARY KSSAY. pressed them by active verbs, such as seeing^ hearings judging^ reasonings and the liJ^e. And as the mind exerts some degree of activity even in the operations of understanding, so it is certain that there can be no act of will which is not accompanied with some act of understanding. The will must have an object, and that object must be apprehended or conceived in the understanding.. It is therefore to be remembered, that in most, if not all, operations of the mind, both faculties concur ; and we range the operation under that faculty which has the largest share in it,* 11. Subdivision of ihe Poivers of the Understanding,] There is not a more fruitful source of error in this branch of philosophy, than division^ of things which * It would be out of place to enter on the extensive field of history and discussion relative to the distribution of our mental powers. It is suffi- cient to say, that the vulgar division of the faculties, adopted by Eeid, into those of the understanding and those of the ivill^ is to be traced to the classi- fication, taken in the Aristotelic school, of the powers into gnostic^ or cog- nitive, and orectic^ or appetent. On this the reader may consult the admi- rable introduction of Philoponus — or rather of Ammonius Hermit — to the books of Aristotle Upon the Soid. — H. The threefold division of the mind into intellect, sensihditij, and will — to think, to feel, and to act — is now generally adopted by psychologists. See it stated and defended in Dictionnaire des Sciences Phdosophiqnes, Art. Facultes de VAme. Also in Upham's Mental Philosophy^ Introduction, Chap. lY. Another classification is given by JoufFroy : — " In the actual state of human knowledge, the irreducible capacities of the human mind appear to me to be the following. First, the personal facidty^ or the supreme power of taking possession of ourselves and of our capacities, and of controlling them: this faculty is known by the name of liberty ov zi-vV/, which desig- nates it but imperfectly. Secondly, the primitive inclinations of our nature, or that aggregate of instincts or tendencies which impel us towards certain ends and in certain directions, prior to all experience, and which at once suggest to reason the destiny of our being, and animate our activity to ])ursue it. Thirdly, the locomotive faculty^ or that energy by means of which we move the locomotive nerves, and produce all the voluntary bodily movements. Fourthly, tlie expressive faculty, or the power of representing ])y external signs that which takes place within us, and of thus holding communication with our fellow-men. Fifthly, sensihUity, or the capacity of being agreeably or disagreeably affected by all external or internal causes, and of reacting in relation to them by movements of love or hatred, of desire or aversion, which are the principle of all passion. Sixtlily, the in- l< I Id'tvul faculties: this term comprises many distinct fiiculties, which can only be enumerated and described in a treatise on Intelligence.''' — Ivipley's l^hilosophicid iMiscellanies^ Vol. I. p. 382. — Ed. DIVISION OF THE POWERS OF THE MIND. 31 are taken to be complete when they are not really so. To make a perfect division of any class of things, a man ought to have the whole under his view at once. But the greatest capacity very often is not sufficient for this. Something is left out which did not come under the philosopher's view when he made his divis- ion ; and to suit this to the division, it must be made what nature never made it. This has been so com- mon a fault of philosophers, that one who would avoid error ought to be suspicious of divisions, though long received and of great authority, especially when they are grounded on a theory that may be called in ques- tion. In a subject imperfectly known, we ought not to pretend to perfect divisions, but to leave room for such additions or alterations as a more perfect view of the subject may afterwards suggest. I shall not, therefore, attempt a complete enumera- tion of the poiuers of the human understanding, I shall only mention those which I propose to explain, and they are the following : — Firsts The powers we have by means of our exter- nal senses. Secondly^ Memory. Thirdly^ Conception. Fourthly^ The powers of resolving and analyzing com- plex objects, and compounding those that are more simple. Fifthly^ Judging. Sixthly^ Reasoning. Sev- enthly^ Taste.* * To these Dr. Keid added, — " Eightlihj^ Moral Perception ; and, last of all, Consciousness." I omit the clause, because Moral Perception is not treated by him in this work, but in another, On the Active Powers^ Essay Y. ; and Consciousness obtains only an incidental consideration, nnder Judg- ment, in the sixth Essay. On the impropriety of regarding consciousness as one of the coordinate special faculties of the nnderstanding, see p. 27, note. Dr. Brown reduces all the proper intellectual powers (or " states," as he prefers to call them) to simple and relative sugrjesfion. To the former he re- fers perception (as distinguished from sensation) , conception, memory^ imag- innfion^ and liahit ; to tlie latter^ judgment, reason, and abstraction. Lectures, Lect. XVI. et passim. Eor a defence of the same, see Payne's Elements of Mental and Moral Science, Chap. VI. — Ed. ESSAY 11. OF THE POWERS WE HAVE BY MEANS OF OUR EXTERNAL SENSES. CHAPTER I. OF THE ORGANS OF SENSE. I. General Remarks,] Of all the operations of our minds, the perception of external objects is the most fa- miliar. The senses come to matmity even in infancy, when other powers have not yet sprung up. They are common to us with brute animals, and furnish us with the objects about which our other powers are the most frequently employed. We find it easy to attend to their operations; and because they are familiar, the names which properly belong to them are applied to other powers which are thought to resemble them. For these reasons they claim to be first considered. The perception of external objects is one main link of that mysterious chain which connects the material world with the intellectual. "We shall find many things in this operation unaccountable ; sufficient to convince us, that we know but little of our own frame, and that a perfect comprehension of our mental powers, and of the manner of their operation, is beyond the reach of our understanding. In perception there are impressions upon the organs of sense, the nerves, and brain, which, by the laws of our nature, are followed by certain operations of mind. These two things are apt to be confounded, but ought most carefully to be distinguished. Some philosophers, OF THE ORGANS OF SENSE. 33 without good reason, have concluded that the impres- sions made on the body are the proper efficient cause of perception. Others, with as little reason, have con- cluded that impressions are made on the mind similar to those made on the body. From these mistakes, many others have arisen. The wrong notions men have rashly taken up with regard to the senses have led to wrong notions with regard to other powers which are conceived to resemble them. Many important powers of mind have, especially of late, been called in- ternal senses^ from a supposed resemblance to the exter- nal ; such as the sense of beauty^ the sense of harmony^ the moral sense. And it is to be apprehended, that errors with regard to the external have, from analogy, led to similar errors with regard to the internal ; it is therefore of som^e consequence, even with regard to other branches of our subject, to have just notions con- cerning the external senses. II. The Laivs of Perception considered in Relation to the Organs of Sense,] In order to this, we shall be- gin with some observations on the organs of sense, and on the impressions which in perception are made upon them, and upon the nerves and brain. 1. We perceive no external object but by means of cer- tain bodily organs which God has given us for that pur- pose. The Supreme Being who made us, and placed us in this world, has given us such powers of mind as he saw to be suited to our state and rank in his crea- tion. He has given us the power of perceiving many objects around us, — the sun, moon, and stars, the earth and sea, and a variety of animals, vegetables, and inanimate bodies. But our power of perceiving these objects is limited in various ways, and particularly in this, that without the organs of the several senses we perceive no external object. We cannot see without eyes, nor hear without ears : it is not only necessary that we should have these organs, but that they should be in a sound and natural state. There are many dis- orders of the eye that cause total blindness; others 34 SENSATION AxND PERCEPTION. that impair the powers of vision, without destroying it altogether ; and the same may be said of the organs of all the other senses. All this is so well known from experience, that it needs no proof; but it ought to be observed, that we know it from experience only. We can give no reason for it, but that such is the will of our Maker. No man can show it to be impossible to the Supreme Being to have given us the power of perceiving external objects without such organs. We have reason to believe, that, when we put off these bodies, and all the organs be- longing to them, our perceptive powers shall rather be improved than destroyed or impaired. We have reason to believe that the Supreme Being perceives every thing in a much more perfect manner than we do, without bodily organs. We have reason to believe that there are other created beings endowed with powers of per- ception more perfect and more extensive than ours, without any such organs as we find necessary. We ought not, therefore, to conclude, that such bodily organs are, in their own nature, necessary to perception ; but rather, that, by the will of God, our power of perceiving external objects is limited to and circumscribed by our organs of sense ; so that we per- ceive objects in a certain manner, and in certain cir- cumstances, and in no other.^ * " Among the wcU-attestcd facts of physiology," says Miiller, perhaps the highest authority on the subject, " there is not one to support the be- lief that one nerve of sense can assume the functions of another. The exaggeration of the sense of touch in the blind will not, in these days, be called seeing with tlie fingers ; the accounts of the power of vision by the fingers and epigastrium, said to be possessed in the so-called magnetic state, appear to be mere fables, and tlie instances in wliich it has been pre- ti-ndcd to practise it, cases of deception." And again: — " It is quite in accordance with the laws of science, that a person sleeping shall have ocular spectra, — we experience them sometimes when the eyes are closed, even before falling asleep, — for the nerves of vision maybe excited to sensation by internal as well as by external causes ; and so long as a mag- netic patient manifests merely the ordinary phenomena of nervous action that are seen in other disorders of the nervous system, it is all creditable enough. But when such a person pretends to see tlu'ough a bandage placed before the eyes, or by means of ti)e lingers or the epigastrium, or to see round a corner and into a neigliboiuiiig house, or to become pro- OF THE ORGANS OF SENSE. 35 If a man were shut up in a dark room, so that he could see nothing but through one small hole in the shutter of a window, would he conclude that the hole was the cause of his seeing, and that it is impossible to see any other way? Perhaps, if he had never in his life seen but in this way, he might be apt to think so ; but the conclusion is rash and groandless. He sees be- cause God has given him the power of seeing; and he sees only through this small hole, because his power of seeing is circumscribed by impediments on all other hands. Another necessary caution in this matter is, that we ought not to confound the organs of perception with the being that perceives. Perception must be the act of some being that perceives. The eye is not that which sees ; it is only the organ by which we see. The ear is not that which hears, but the organ by which we hear. And so of the rest.* A man cannot see the satellites of Jupiter but by a telescope. Does he conclude from this, that it is the telescope that sees those stars ? By no means ; such a conclusion would be absurd. It is no less absurd to conclude that it is the eye that sees or the ear that hears. The telescope is an artificial organ of sight, but it sees not. The eye is a natural organ of sight, by which we see ; but the natural organ sees as little as the artificial. The eye is a machine most admirably contrived for refracting the rays of light, and forming a distinct pic- ture of objects upon the retina; but it sees neither the object nor the picture. It can form the picture after it phetic, such arrant imposture no longer deserves forbearance, and an open and sound exposure of the deception is called for." — Elements of P/ujsi- ologij, Vol. II. pp. 1071, 1125. See also Carpenter's Principles of Human Physiology^ § 311. * This doctrine may be traced back to Aristotle and his school, and even higher. '■'' There is extant," says Plutarch, " a discourse of Strato Physicus, demonstrating that a sensitive apprehension is ivholly impossible without an act of intellect^ {Op. Mor.^ p. 961.) And as to Aristotle him- self: — "To divorce," he says, "sensation from understanding, is to reduce sensation to an insensible process ; wherefore it has been said, intel- lect sees, and intellect hears.'''' {Probl.^ XI. 33.) — H. 36 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. is taken out of the head ; but no vision ensues. Even when it is in its proper place, and perfectly sound, it is well known that an obstruction in the optic nerve takes away vision, though the eye has performed all that be- longs to it. If any thing more were necessary to be said on a point so evident, we might observe, that, if the faculty of seeing were in the eye, that of hearing in the ear, and so of the other senses, the necessary consequence of this would be, that the thinking principle, which I call myself^ is not one, but many. But this is contrary to the irresistible conviction of every man. When I say, I see, I hear, I feel, I remember, this implies that it is one and the same self that performs all these op- erations ; and as it would be absurd to say, that my memory, another man's imagination, and a third man's reason, may make one individual intelligent being, it would be equally absurd to say, that one piece of mat- ter seeing, another hearing, and a third feeling, may make one and the same percipient being. 2. A second law of our nature regarding perception is, that we perceive no object^ unless some impression is made upon the organ of sense, either by the immediate application of the object, or by some medium which passes between the object and the organ. In two of our senses, to wit, touch and taste, there must be an immediate application of the object to the organ. In the other three, the object is perceived at a distance, but still by means of a mxedium by which some impression is made upon the organ.* The efiluvia of bodies drawn into the nostrils with * This distinction of a mediate and immediate object, or of an object and a medium, in perception, is inaccurate, and a source of sad confusion. We perceive, and can perceive, nothing but what is in relation to the organ, and nothing is in relation to the organ that is not present to it. All the senses are, in fiict, modifications of touchy as Democritus of old taught. We reach the distant reality, not by sense, not by perception, but by infer- e?2ce. Thus it is inaccurate to say, as Reid does in the next sentence, that " the cflQuvia of bodies " are " the medium of smell." Nothing is smelt but the effluvia themselves. They constitute the total object of percejdion in smell. Hcid, hoAvevcr, in this only follows his predeces- sors. — n. OF THE ORGANS OF SENSE. 37 the breath are the medium of smell ; the undulations of the air are the medium of hearing; and the rays of light passing from visible objects to the eye are the medium of sight. We see no object unless rays of light come frpm it to the eye. We hear not the sound of any body, unless the vibrations of some elastic me- dium, occasioned by the tremulous motion of the sounding body, reach our ear. We perceive no smell, unless the effluvia of the smelling body enter into the nostrils. We perceive no taste, unless the sapid body be applied to the tongue, or some part of the organ of taste. Nor do we perceive any tangible quality of a body, unless it touch the hands, or some part of our body. These are facts known from experience to hold uni- versally and invariably, both in men and brutes. By this law of our nature, our powers of perceiving exter- nal objects are further limited and circumscribed. Nor can we give any other reason for this, than that it is the will of our Maker, who knows best what povv^ers, and what degTces of them, are* suited to our state. We w^ere once in a state, (I mean in the womb,) wherein our powers of perception were more limited than in the present, and in a future state they may be more en- larged. •3. It is likewise a law of our nature, that, in order to our perceiving objects, the impressions made upon the orguns of sense must be communicated to the nerves^ and by them to the brain. This is perfectly known to those who know any thing of anatomy. The nerves are fine cords, which pass from the brain, or from the spinal marrow, which is a prolongation of the brain, to ail parts of the body, dividing into smaller branches as they proceed, until at last they escape our eyesight; and it is found by experience, that all the voluntary and involuntary motions of the body are performed by their means. When the nerves that serve any limb are cut, or tied hard, we have then no more power to move that limb than if it was no part of the body. 4 38 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. As there are nerves that serve the muscular motions, so there are others that serve the several senses ; and as without the former we cannot move a limb, so without the latter we can have no perception. This train of machinery the wisdom of God has made necessary to our perceiving objects. Various parts of the body concur to it, and each has its own function. First the object, either immediately or by some medium, must make an impression on the organ. The organ serves oniy as a medium, by which an im- pression is made on the nerve ; and the nerve serves as a medium to make an impression upon the brain. Here the material part ends ; at least, we can trace it no farther ; the rest is all intellectual. The proof of these impressions upon the nerves and brain in perception is this, — that, from many observa- tions and experiments, it is found, that, when the organ of any sense is perfectly sound, and has the impression made upon it by the object ever so strongly, yet, if the nerve which serves that organ be cut or tied hard, there is no perception; and it'is well known, that disorders in the brain deprive us of the power of perception, when both the organ and its nerve are sound. There is, therefore, sufficient reason to conclude, that, in perception, the object produces some change in the organ ; that the organ produces some change upon the nerve ; and that the nerve produces some change in the brain. And we give the name of an impression to those changes, because we have not a name mora prop- er to express, in a general manner, any change pro- duced in a body by an external cause, without specify- ing the nature of that change. Whether it be pressure, or attraction, or repulsion, or vibration, or something unknown, for which we have no name, still it may be called an impression. But with regard to the particu- lar kind of this change or impression, philosophers have never been able to discover any thing at all. But, whatever be the nature of those impressions upon the organs, nerves, and brain, we perceive nothing without them. Experience informs us that it is so ; OF THE ORGAx\S OF SENSE, 39 but we cannot give a reason why it is so. In the con- stitution of man, perception, by fixed laws of nature, is connected v/ith those impressions; but we can dis- cover no necessary connection. The Supreme Being has seen fit to limit our power of perception, so that we perceive not without such impressions ; and this is all we know of the matter. This, however, we have reason to conclude in gen- eral, — that, as the impressions on the organs, nerves, and brain, correspond exactly to the nature and con- ditions of the objects by which they are made, so our perceptions and sensations correspond to those impres- sions, and vary in kind^ and in degree^ as they vary. Without this exact correspondence, the information we receive by our senses would not only be imperfect, as it undoubtedly is, but would be fallacious, which we have no reason to think it is.* * Physiologists will not allow us to hold the doctrine taught in this chapter in such a sense as to exclude what are called subjective sensations. " Every one," says Mailer, " is aware how common it is to see bright colors while the eyes are closed, particularly in the morning, when the irritability of the nerves is still considerable. These phenomena are very frequent in children after waking from sleep. Through the sense of vis- ion, we receive from external nature no impressions which we may not also experience from internal excitement of our nerves ; and it is evident that a person blind from infancy, in consequence of opacity of the trans- parent media of the eye, must have a perfect internal conception of liclit and colors, provided the retina and optic nerve be free from lesion. The prevalent notions with regard to the wonderful sensations supposed to be experienced by persons blind from birth, when their sight is restored by operation, are exaggerated and incorrect. The elements of the sensation of vision, namely, the sensations of light, color, and darkness, must have been previously as well known to such persons as to those of whom the sight has always been perfect. The sensations of hearing, also, are ex- cited as well by internal as by external causes ; for whenever the auditory nerve is in a state of excitement, the sensations peculiar to it, as the sounds of ringing, humming, &c., are produced. No further proof is wanting, to show that external influences give rise in our senses to no other sensations than those which may be excited in the corresponding nerves by internal causes." — Elements^ Vol. II. p. 1060. Carpenter explains the possibility of these phenomena by observing, — " Witb regard to all kinds of sensation, it is to be remembered that the change of which the mind is informed is not the change at the peripheral extremities of the nerves, but the change communicated to the sensorium ; hence it results, that external agencies can give rise to no kind of sensa- tion wliich cannot also be produced by internal causes, -exciting changes in the condition of the nerves in their course." — Principles, § 310. — Ed. 40 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. CHAPTER II. HARTLEY'S THEORY OF VIBRATIONS. L Historical Notices.] We are informed by anato- mists, that although the two coats which inclose a nerve, and which it derives from the coats of the brain, are tough and elastic, yet the nerve itself has a very small dem'ee of consistence, beins: almost like marrow. It has, however, a fibrous texture^ and may be divided and subdivided, till its fibres escape our senses. And as we know so very little about the texture of the nerves, there is great room left for those who choose to indulge themselves in conjecture. The ancients conjectured that the nervous fibres are fine tubes, filled with a very subtile spirit or vapor, which they c^We A jmimcil spirits ; that the brain is a gland, by which the animal spirits are secreted from the finer part of the blood, and their continual waste repaired; and that it is by these animal spirits that the nerves per- form their functions. Descartes has shown how, by these animal spirits going and returning in the nerves, muscular motion, perception, memory, and imagination are eflfected. All this he has described as distinctly as if he had been an eyewitness of all those operations. But it haj^pens that the tubular structure of the nerves was never perceived by the human eye, nor shown by the nicest injections; and all that has been said about animal spirits, through more than fifteen centuries, is mere conjecture. Dr, Briggs, who was Sir Isaac Newton's master in anatomy, w^as the first, as far as I know, who advanced a new system concerning the nerves.* He conceived * Bri^rgs v/as not the first. The Jesuit, Honoratus Eabiy, haS before him denied the old hypothesis of spirits; and the new hypothesis of cere- bral fibres or fibrils, by which he explains the phenomena of sense, imagi- nation, and memory, is not only tlic first, but pei-haps the most ingenious of the class that has been proposed. Yet llic very name of Fabry is THEORY OF VIUKATTONS. HARTLRY. 41 them to be solid filaments of prodigious tenuity ; and this opinion, as it accords better with observation, seems to have been more generally received since his time. As to the manner of performing their office. Dr. Briggs thought, that, like musical cords, they have vibrations differing according to their length and ten- sion. They seem, however, very unfit for this purpose, on account of their v/ant of tenacity, their moisture, and being through their whole length in contact with moist substances : so that, although Dr. Briggs wrote a book upon this system, called Nova Visionis Theoria^ it seems not to have been much followed. Sir Isaac Newton, in all his philosophical writings, took great care to distinguish his doctrines, which he intended to prove by just induction, from his conjec- tures, which were to stand or fall, according as future experiments and observations should establish or refute them. His conjectures he has put in the form of que- ries, that they might not be received as truths, but be inquired into, and determined according to the evidence to be found for or against them. Those who mistake his queries for a part of his doctrine do him great in- justice, and degrade him to the rank of the common herd of philosophers, who have, in all ages, adulterated philosophy by mixing conjecture with truth, and their ow^n fancies with the oracles of nature. Among othei queries, this truly great philosopher proposed this, — Whether there may not be an elastic medium, or ether, immensely more rare than air, which pervades all bodies, and which is the cause of gravitation ; of the refraction and reflection of the rays of light; of the tra^nsmission of heat, through spaces void of air ; and of many other phenomena? In the 23d query sub- joined to his Optics^ he puts this question, with regard to the impressions made on the nerves and brain in perception, — Whether vision is effected chiefly by the wholly unnoticed by those hivStorians of philosophy who do not deem it sup degree, to the va- riety of sensations ; the connections described in such a system are the creatures of human imagination, no^ the work of God. The rays of light make an impression upon the optic nerves ; but they make none upon the auditory or olfactory. The vibrations of the air make an impres- sion upon the auditory nerves ; but non« upon the op- 48 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. tic or the olfactory. The effluvia of bodies make an impression upon the olfactory nerves ; but make none upon the optic or auditory. No man has been able to give a shadow of reason for this. While this is the case, is it not better to confess our ignorance of the nature of those impressions made upon the nerves and brain in perception, than to flatter our pride with the conceit of knowledge which we have not, and to adul- terate philosophy with the spurious brood of hypoth- eses?* CHAPTER III. FALSE CONCLUSIONS DRAWN FROM THE CONNECTION BETWEEN PERCEPTION AND IMPRESSIONS MADE ON THE ORGANS OF SENSE. I. (1.) Tliat the MUid is Material^ mid Perception the Pursuit of Mechanism,] Some philosophers among the ancients, as well as among the moderns, imagined that man is nothing but a piece of matter so curioiLsly or- ganized^ that the impressions of external objects produce in it sensation^ perception^ remembrance^ and all the other operations ive are conscious of This foolish opinion could only take its rise from observing the constant connection which the Author of nature has established between certain impressions made upon our senses, and our perception of the objects by which the impres- ^ sion is made ; from which they weakly inferred, that * Rcid uppcars to have been unacquainted with the works and theory of Bonnet. With our author's strictures on the pliysiological hypotheses, the reader may compare those of Tetens, in his Versuche, and of Stewart, in his Philosophical Essays. — H. Hallcr took pains to refute the theory of vibrations in his Elemerda Phy- siologia3, Vol. IV. Sect. VIII., Art. Conjecturo2. For some account of the writers who have advocated it, see Blakey's History of the Philosophy of Mind, Vol. III. Chap. XVII. Dr. Priestley published an octavo volume, in 1775, containing a portion of Dr. Hartley's great work, with this title: Hartley's Jlieory of the Human Mind, on the Principle of the Association of Ideas, with Essays on the Subject of it. — Ed. FALSE CONCLUSIOxNkS. 49 those impressions were the proper efficient causes of the corresponding perception. But no reasoning is more fallacious than this, that, because two things are always conjoined, therefore one must be the cause of the other. Day and night have been joined in a constant succession since the begin- ning of the world; but who is so foolish as to conclude from this that day is the cause of night, or night the cause of the following day ? There is indeed nothing more ridiculous than to imagine that any motion or modification of matter should produce thought. If one should tell of a telescope so exactly made as to have the power of seeing; of a whispering gallery that had the power of hearing ; of a cabinet so nicely framed as to have the power of memory ; or of a ma- chine so delicate as to feel pain when it was touched, — such absurdities are so shocking to common sense, that they would not find belief even among savages : yet it is the same absurdity to think that the impres- sions of external objects upon the machine of our bod- ies can be the real efl3.cient cause of thought and per- ception. 11. (2.) That an Impression is made on the Mind^ as ivell as on the Organs of Sense,] Another conclusion sometimes drawn by philosophers is, that in perception an impression is made upon the mind^ as ivell as upon the organ^ nerves^ and brain. Mr. Locke affirms very positively, that the ideas of external objects are pro- duced in our minds by impulse, " that being the only way we can conceive bodies to operate in." It ought, however, to be observed, in justice to Mr. Locke, that he retracted this notion in his first letter to the Bishop of Worcester, and promised in the next edition of his Essay to have that passage rectified ; but either from forgetfulness in the author, or negligence in the printer, the passage remains in all the subsequent editions I have seen. There is no prejudice more natural to man, than to conceive of the mind as havinc: some similitude to o 50 SENSATION AND I'KRCEP't ION. / body ill its operations. Hence men have been prone to imagine, that, as bodies are put in motion by some impulse or impression made upon them by contiguous bodies, so the mind is made to think and to perceive by some impression made upon it, or some impulse given to it, by contiguous objects. If we have such a notion of the mind as Homer had of his gods, who might be bruised or wounded with swords and spears, we may then understand what is meant by impressions made upon it by a body. But if we conceive the mind to be immaterial^ of which I think we hav(^ very strong proofs, we shall find it difficult to affix a meaning to impressions made upon it. There is a figurative meaning of impressions on the mind which is well authorized, but this meaning ap- plies only to objects that are interesting. To say that an object which I see with perfect indifference makes an impression upon my mind, is not, as I apprehend, good English. If philosophers mean no more than that I see the object, why should they invent an im- proper phrase to express what every man knows how to express in plain EiigUsh ? But it is evident, from the manner in which this phrase is used by modern philosophers, that they mean not merely to express by it my perceiving an object, but to explain the manner of perception. They think that the object perceived acts upon the mind, in some way similar to that in which one body acts upon another, by making an impression upon it. The im- pression upon the mind is conceived to be something wherein the mind is altogether passive, and has some effect produced on it by the object. But this is a hy- pothesis which contradicts the common sense of man- kind, and which ought not to be admitted without proof. When I look upon the wall of my room, the wall does not act at all, nor is it capable of acting; the perceiving it is an act or operation in me. That this is the common apprehension of mankind with regard to perception, is evident from the manner of expressing it in all lanr^uas^es. FALSE CONCLTSIOXS. 51 The vulgar give themselves no trouble how they )^er- ceive objects. They express what they are conscious of, and they express it with propriety ; but philosophers have an avidity to know lioiv we perceive objects ; and, conceiving some similitude between a body that is put in motion and a mind that is made to perceive, thev are led to think, that, as the body must receive some impulse to make it move, so the mind must receive some impiilse or impression to make it perceive. This analogy seems to be confirmed, by observing that we perceive objects only when they make some impression upon the organs of sense, and upon the nerves and brain; but it ought to be observed, that such is the na- ture of hody^ that it cannot change its state, but by some force impressed upon it. This is not the nature of mind. All that we know e4^ut it shows it to be in its nature living' and active^ and to have the power of per- ception in its constitution, but still within those limits to w^hich it is confined by the laws of nature. It appears, therefore, that this phrase of the mind's having impressions made upon it by corporeal objects in perception, is either a phrase without any distinct meaning, and contrary to the propriety of the English language, or it is grounded upon an hypothesis which is destitute of proof. On that account, though we grant that in perception there is an impression made upon the organ of sense, and upon the nerves and brain, we do not admit that the object makes any impression upon the mind, III. (3.) That these Impressions leave Images in the Brain ivhich are the only Immediate Objects of Percep- tion,] There is another conclusion drawn from the im- ])ressions made upon the brain in perception, which I conceive to have no solid foundation, though it has been adopted very generally by philosophers. It is, that by the impressions made on the brain, images are formed of the object perceived; and that the mind, being seated in the brain as its chamber of presence, immediately per- ceives those images only, and has no perception of the external object but by them. 52 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. Now, with regard to this hypothesis, there are three things that deserve to be considered, because the hy- pothesis leans upon them ; and if any one of them fail, it must fall to the ground. The first is, that the soul has its seat, or, as Mr. Locke calls it, " its presence- room," in the brain. The second^ that there are images formed in the brain of all the objects of sense. The thirds that the mind or soul perceives these images in the brain ; and that it perceives not external objects immediately, but only by means of their images. As to the first point, that the soul has its seat in the brain, this, surely, is not so well established as that we can safely build other principles upon it. There have been various opinions and much disputation about the place of spirits ; whether they have a place, and if they have, how they occupy wtsct place. After men had fought in the dark about these points for ages, the wiser part seem to have left off disputing about them, as matters beyond the reach of the human faculties. As to the second point, that images of all the objects of sense are formed in the brain, we may venture to affirm that there is no proof nor probability of this, with regard to any of the objects of sense; and that with regard to the greater part of them, it is words without any meaning. That external objects make some impression on the organs of sense, and by them on the nerves and brain, is granted; but that those impressions resemble the ob- jects they are made by, so as that they may be called images of the objects^ is most improbable. Every hy- pothesis that has been contrived shows that there can be no such resemblance; for neither the motions of animal spirits, nor the vibrations of elastic chords, or of elastic ether, or of the infinitesimal particles of the nerves, can be supposed to resemble the objects by v/hich they are excited. We know that, in vision, an image of the visible object is formed in the bottom of the eye by the rays of light. But we know also, that this image cannot be conveyed to the brain, because the optic nerve, and FALSE COXCLUSIOXS. 53 all the parts that surround it, are opaque and imper- vious to the rays of light ; and there is no other organ of sense in which any image of the object is formed. It is further to be observed, that, with regard to some objects of sense, we may understand what is meant by an image of them imprinted on the brain ; but with regard to most objects of sense, the phrase is absolutely unintelligible, and conveys no meaning at all. As to objects of sight, I understand what is meant by an image of their figure in the brain. But how shall we conceive an image of their coloi\ where there is abso- lute darkness ? And as to all other objects of sense, except figure and color, I am unable to conceive what is meant by an image of them. Let any man say what he means by an image of heat or cold, an image of ha.rdness or softness, an image of sound, of smell, or taste. The word image^ when applied to these objects of sense, has absolutely no meaning. Upon what a weak foundation, then, does this hypothesis stand, when it supposes that images of all the objects of sense are imprinted on the brain, being conveyed thither by the conduits of the organs and nerves. The third point in this hypothesis is, that the mind perceives the images in the brain, and external objects only by means of them. This is as improbable, as that there are such images to be perceived. If our powers of perception be not altogether fallacious, the objects we perceive are not in our brain, but without us, We are so far from perceiving images in the brain, that we do not perceive our brain at all; nor would any man ever have known that he had a brain, if anatomy had not discovered, by dissection, that the brain is a con- stituent part of the human body. To sum up what has been said with regard to the organs of perception, and the impressions made upon our nerves and brain. It is a law of our nature, estab- lished by the will of the Supreme Being, that we per- ceive no external object but by means of the, organs given us for that purpose. But these organs do not perceive. The eye is the organ of ^ight, but it sees not. 5* ^ 54 SENSATION A? D PERCEPTION. A telescope is an artificial organ of sight. The eye is a natural organ of sight, but it sees as little as the tel- escope. We know how the eye forms a picture of the visible object upon the retina; but how this picture makes us see the object we know not; and if experi- ence had not informed us that such a picture is neces- sary to vision, we should never have known it. We can give no reason why the picture on the retina should be followed by vision, while a like picture on any other part of the body produces nothing like vision. It is likewise a law of our nature, that we perceive not external objects, unless certain impressions be made by the object upon the organ, and by means of the organ upon the nerves and brain. But of the nature of those impressions we are perfectly ignorant; and though they are conjoined vnth perception by the will of our Maker, yet it does not appear that they have any necessary connection vvath it in their own nature, far less that they can be the proper, efficient cause of it* We perceive, because God has given us the power of perceiving, and not because we have impressions from objects. We perceive nothing without those impres- sions, because our Maker has limited and circum- scribed our powers of perception by such laws of nature as to his Vv^sdom seemed meet, and such as suited our rank in his creation,* * In noticing the benefit accrnin<]^ to psychology from recent physiologi- cal inA-estigations, Mr. Morcll observes : — ^'' The pliaritasms of Aristotle, tlic animal spirits of Descartes, tlie vibrations of Hartley, and all snch speculations, are virtually ino'.cd out of the road by a closer examination of {ha facts of the case, and thus ])rcventcd from encumbering the move- ments of scientific research. In oj>position to such notions, it has been discovered that the dilfercnr kinds of nerves Iiave specific qualities of their own, and tliat, instead of coiivei/in(; impressions, they i^ive rise to certain phenomena simply ';// the excitement of their own projierties^^ He adds : — '' At the same time, it is of great importance that the two sciences should each liold their proper limits, and that the one should not be allowed to assume the ground which peculiarly belongs to the other. To mark the boundaries of physiology and psychology Ave m.ust simply inquire. Avhat are the phenomena Avhich Ave learn by consciousness, and Avliat those Avliich avc learn by outward observation. These tAvo regions lie en- tirely Avithout each other; so much so, that there is not a single factknoAvn by conseiqiisness, Avhich avc should ever have learned by external obser OF PERCEPTION PROPER. 55 CHAPTER IV. « OF PERCEPTION, PROPERLY SO CALLED. I. Knoivn by Consciousness and Reflection alone.] In speaking of the impressions made on our organs in per- vation, and not a single fact known by external observation of which we are ever conscious. A sensation, for example, is known simply by con- sciousness ; the material conditions of it, as seen in the organ and the nervous system, simply by external observation. No one could ever see a sensation, or be conscious of the organic action ; accordingly, the one fact belongs to psychology, the other to physiology." On this distinction he refers to a passage in Jouffroy, given by us in a note to Chap. IV. of the Preliminary Essay, but remarks, that " Jouffroy carries his views on this point too far. In the phenomena of muscular action, w^e have the uniting point of the two sciences, the link which indis- solubly connects the science of mind with that of organic matter." In this connection lie also speaks of phrenology, the real merit of which is, as he contends, ^' that it has directed inquiry to the structure of the brain and the nervous system, and succeeded in drawing forth many inter- esting facts, which otherwise would have been to this time enveloped in dp.rkness. Had it been content with taking its place as one peculiar brancli of human physiology, it would have appeared in a light perfectly unobjectionable to the most rigidly philosophical minds ; but its ambition lias, to a great extent, been its bane." He then shows, at some length, that it can never serve as the basis of a new system of intellectual philosophy. A brief extract must suffice : — " I will suppose, for a moment, that we knew nothing whatever reflectively of our own mental operations ; that the study of the human mind had not yet been commenced ; that none of its phenomena had been classified ; and that we were to heyin our investigation of them upon the phrenological system, some notion of which had been previously communicated to us : we mJglit in this case proceed with our operations with the greatest ardor, and examine skull after skull for a century ;• but this icoulcl not give us the least notion of anij peculiar mental fiicultij^ or aid us in the smallest degree in classifying mental phenomena. We could never know that the organs of the reasoning powers were in front, and tliose of the moral feelings upon the top of the head, unless we had first made tliose powers and feelings inde- pendentlij the objects of our examination. The whole march of phrenology goes upon the supposition, that there is a system of intellectual philosophy already in the mind, and its whole aim is to show whce the seat, materi- ally speaking, of the faculties we have alreadj obseived really is to be found " '• The Phrenological Journal admits," he adds in a note to his second edition, " that we must know our mental phenomena reflectivejij, before we can allocate them, — but still persists in calling cerebral observation a method of studying psychology. I confess myself unable to see what ■psychological truth it unfolds, that is not clear wdthout it. Does it reveal a 56 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. ception, we build upon facts borrowed from anatomy and physiology, for. which we have the testimony of our senses. But being now to speak of perception itself, whicli is solely an act of the mind, we must appeal to another authority. The operations of our minds are known, not by sense, but by consciousness, the authority of which is as certain and as irresistible as that of sense.* mental fact? Not one. These are all facts of consciousness. Does it give us a classification ? No. 'We must know,' (I quote the critic,) 'from our consciousness, the distinction between thoughts and feelings, before we can trace their connection with particular parts of the brain.' Does it define a single faculty or feeling, or give us any clew to the class of phe- nomena to which it should belong ? No. The decision as to the class of phenomena to which any mental fact belongs is left to the mind's reflective judgment, which would be quite unaltered wherever the organ of it might be found." — Historical and Critical View of the Speculative Philosophy of Europe in the Nineteenth Century^ Chap. IV. Sect. I. For further information respecting the physiological conditions of per- ception and the other m.ental phenomena, see a small tract by Dr. Barlow, On the Connection hetioeen Physiology and Intellectual Science. Muller's Ele- ments^ already referred to. The American edition of the English transla- tion omits many passages interesting to the psychologist. Tissot, Anthro- polof/ie. Virey, Physiologie dans ses Rapports avec la Philosophie. Pritch- ard's Review of the Doctrine of a Vital Principle. Green's Vital Dynamics. Lawrence's Introduction to Comparative Anatomy and Physiology. Maine de Biran, Nouvelles Considerations sur les Rapports du Physique et du Moral de r Homme. Jouffroy, Nouveaux Melanges Philosophiques., Art. De la L6giti- met6 de la Distinction de la Psychologic et de la Physiologie. Comte, Phi- losophie Positive, Vol. III. Le^on XLY. — Ed. * It is ma.ore so. There is no skepticism possible touching the facts of consciousness in themselves. We cannot doubt that the phenomena of consciousness are real, in so far as we are conscious of them. I cannot doubt, for example, that I am actually conscious of a certain feeling of fragrance, and of certain perceptions of color, figure, &c., when I see and smell a rose. Of the reality' of these, as experienced, I cannot doubt, be- cause they are facts of consciousness ; and of consciousness I cannot doubt, because such doubt, being itself an act of consciousness, would con- tradict, and consequently annihilate, itself. But of all beyond the mere phenomena of which we are conscious, we may — without fear of self- contradiction at least — doubt. I may, for instance, doubt whether the rose I see and smell has any existence, beyond a phenomenal existence in my consciousness. I cannot doubt that I am conscious of it as something different from self, but whether it have, indeed, any reality beyond my mind, — whether the not-self be not in truth only self — that I may philo- sophically question. In like manner, I am conscious of the memory of a certain past event. Of the contents of this memory, as a phenomenon given by consciousness, skepticism is impossible. But I may by possi- bility demur to the reality of all beyond these contents, and the sphere of present consciousness. — H. OF PERCEPTION PROPER. 57 In order, however, to onr having a distinct notion of any of the operations of our own minds, it is not enough that we be conscious of them, for all men have this consciousness : it is further necessary that we attend to them while they are exerted, and reflect upon them with care, while they are recent and fresh in our mem- ory. It is necessary that, by employing ourselves fre- quently in this way, wh get the habit of this attention and reflection ; and therefore, for the proof of facts which I shall have occasion to mention upon this sub- ject, I can only appeal to the reader's own thoughts, whether such facts are not agreeable to what he is con- scious of in his own mind. II. Three Things implied in every Act of Perception,] If, therefore, we attend to that act of our mind which we call the perception of an external object of sense, we shall find in it these three things. Firsts some con- ception or notion of the object perceived. Secondly^ a strong and irresistible conviction and belief of its pres- ent existence. And, thirdly^ that this conviction and belief are im^nediate^ and not the effect of reasoning. Firsts It is impossible to perceive an object without having some notion or conception of that which we per- ceive. We may indeed conceive an object which we do not perceive ; but when we perceive the object, we must have somic conception of it at the same time ; and we have commonly a more clear and steady notion of the object while we perceive it, than we have from memory or imagination when it is not perceived. Yet, even in perception, the notion which our senses give of the object may be more or less clear, more or less dis- tinct, in all possible degrees. Thus we see more distinctly an object at a small than at a gi'ea*t distance. An object at a great distance is seen more distinctly in a clear than in a foggy day. An object seen indistinctly with the naked eye, on ac- count of its smallness, may be seen distinctly with a microscope. The objects in this room will be seen by a person in the room less and less distinctly as the light 58 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. of the day fails ; they pass through all the various de- grees of distinctness according to the degrees of the light, and at last, in total darkness, they are not seen at all. What has been said of the objects of sight is so easily applied to the objects of the other senses, that the application may be left to the reader. In a matter so obvious to every person capable of reflection, it is only necessary further to observe, that the notion which we get of an object merely by our external sense ought not to be confounded with that more scientific notion which a man, come to the years of understanding, may have of the same object, by attending to its various attributes, or to its various parts, and their relation to each other and to the whole. Thus the notion which a child has of a jack for roast- ing meat will be acknowledged to be very different from that of a man who understands its construction, and perceives the relation of the parts to one another and to the whole. The child sees the jack, and every part of it, as well as the man : the child, therefore, has all the notion of it which sight gives ; whatever there is more in the notion which the man forms of it must be derived from other powers of the mind, which may afterwards be explained. This observation is made here only that we may not confound the operations of different powers of the mind, which, by being always conjoined after we grow up to understanding, are apt to pass for one and the same. Secondly^ In perception we not only have a notion more or less distinct of the object perceived, but also an irresistible conviction and belief of its existence. This is always the case \vhen we are certain that we per- ceive it. There may be a perception so faint and indis- tinct, as to leave us in doubt whether we perceive the object or not. Thus, when a star begins to twinkle as the light of the sun withdraws, one may, for a short time, think he sees it, without being certain, until the perception acquires some strength and steadiness. When a ship just begins to apj)ear on the utmost verge of the horizon, we m;;y at first be dubious OF PKRCEPTION PROPER. 59 whether we perceive it or not ; but when the percep- tion is in any degree clear and steady, there remains no donbt of its reality; and when the reality of the perception is ascertained, the existence of the object perceived can no longer be doubted. By the laws of all nations, in the most solemn ju- dicial trials, wherein men's fortunes and lives are at stake, the sentence passes according to the testimony of eye or ear witnesses of good credit. An upright judge will give a fair hearing to every objection that can be made to the integrity of a witness, and allow it to be possible that he may be corrupted ; but no judge will ever suppose that witne'sses may be imposed upon by trusting to their eyes and ears : and if a skeptical counsel should plead against the testimony of the wit- nesses, that they had no other evidence for what they declared than the testimony of their eyes and ears, and that we ought not to put so much faith in our senses as to deprive men of life or fortune upon their testi- mony, surely no upright judge would admit a plea of this kind. I believe no counsel, however skeptical, ever dared to offer such an argument; and, if it was offered, it would be rejected with disdain. Can any stronger proof be given, that it is the uni- versal judgment of mankind, that the evidence of sense is a kind of evidence which we may securely rest upon, in the most momentous concerns of mankind, — that it is a kind of evidence against which we ought not to admit any reasoning, and therefore, that to reason either for or against it is an insult to common sense ? The whole conduct of mankind, in the daily occur- rences of life, as well as the solemn procedure of judi- catories in the trial of causes civil and criminal, demon- strates this. I know of only two exceptions that may be offered against this being the universal belief of mankind. The first exception is that of some lunatics, w^ho have been persuaded of things that seem to contradict the clear testimony of their senses. It is said there have been lunatics and hypochondriacal persons, who 60 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. seriously believed themselves to be made of glass ; and, in consequence of this, lived in continual terror of having their brittle frame shivered to pieces. All I have to say to this is, that our minds, in our present state, are, as vv^ell as our bodies, liable to strange disorders; and as we do not judge of the nat- ural constitution of the body from the disorders or dis- eases to which it is subject from accidents, so neither ought we to judge of the natural powers of the mind from its disorders, but from its sound state. It is nat- ural to man, and common to the species, to have two hands and two feet ; yet I have seen a man, and a very ingenious one, who was born without either hands or feet. It is natural to man to have faculties superior to those of brutes ; yet we see some individuals, whose faculties are not equal to those of many brutes ; and the wisest man may, by various accidents, be reduced to this state. General rules that regard those whose intellects are sound are not overthrown by instances of men whose intellects are hurt by any constitutional or accidental disorder. The other exception that may be made to the princi- ple Vv^e have laid down is that of some philosophers, who have maintained that the testimony of sense is fallacious, and therefore ought never to be trusted. Perhaps it might be a suflicient answer to this to say, that there is no absurdity, howcA^er great, which some philosophers have not maintained. It is one thing to profess a doctrine of this kind, another seriously to be- lieve it, and to be governed by it in the conduct of life. It is evident; that a man who did not believe his senses could not keep out of harm's way an hour of his life ; yet, in ail the history of philosophy, we never read of any skeptic that ever stepped into fire or water because he did not believe his senses, or that showed, in the conduct of life, less trust in his senses than other men have.* This gives us just ground to apprehend that * All tills we read, however, in Laertius, of Pyrrho ; and on the author- ity of Antigonus Carystius, the great skeptic's contemporary. Whether we arc to believe the narrative is another question. — H. OF PERCEPTION PROPER. 61 philosophy was never able to conquer that natural be- lief which men have in their senses ; and that all their subtile reasonings against this belief were never able to ])ersuade themselves. It appears, therefore, that the clear and distinct tes- timony of our senses carries irresistible conviction along with it, to every man in his right judgment. I observed, thirdly^ that this conviction is not only irresistible, but it is immediate ; that is, it is not by a train of reasoning' and argumentation that we come to be convinced of the existence of what we perceive. We ask no argument for the existence of the object, but that we perceive it ; perception commands our belief upon its own authority, and disdains to rest its auth(5r- ity upon any reasoning whatsoever. The conviction of a truth may be irresistible, and yet not immediate. Thus, my conviction that the three angles of every plane triangle are equal to two right apgles, is irresistible, but it is not immediate : I am convinced of it by demonstrative reasoning. There are other truths in mathematics of which we have not only an irresistible, but an immediate conviction. Such are the axioms. Our belief of the axioms in mathe- matics is not grounded upon argument, — arguments are grounded upon them; but their evidence is dis- cerned immediately by the human understanding. It is, no doubt, one thing to have an immediate con- viction of a self-evident axiom ; it is another thing to have an imniediate conviction of the existence of what we see: but the conviction is equally iminediate and equally irresistible in both cases. No man thinks of seeking a reason for believing what he sees ; and before we are capable of reasoning, we put no less confidence in our senses than after. The rudest savage is as fully convinced of what he sees, and hears, and feels, as the most expert logician. The constitution of our under- standing determines us to hold the truth of a mathe- matical axiom as a first principle, from which other truths may be deduced, but it is deduced from none ; and the constitution of our power of perception deter- 6 62 " SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. mines us to hold the existence of what we distinctly perceive a.s a first principle, from which other truths may be deduced, but it is deduced from none. What has been said of the irresistible and immediate belief of the existence of objects distinctly perceived, I mean only to affirm with regard to persons so far ad- vanced in understanding as to distinguish objects of mei^e imagination from tilings lohich have a real exist- ence. Every man knows that he may have a notion of Don Quixote or of Gargantua, without any belief that such persons ever existed ; and that of Julius Csesar and of Oliver Cromwell he has not only a notion, but a belief that they did really exist. But whether children, from the time that they begin to use their senses, make a distinction between things which are only conceived or imagined, and things which really exist, may be doubted. Until we are able to make this distinction, we cannot properly be said to believe or to disbelieve the existence of any thing. The belief of the existence of any thing seems to suppose a notion of existence ; a notion too abstract, perhaps, to enter into the mind of an infant. I speak of the power of perception in those that are adult, and of a sound mind, who believe that there are some things which do really exist ; and that there are many things conceived by themselves, and by others, which have no existence. That such persons do invariably ascribe existence to every thing which they distinctly perceive, without seeking reasons or arguments for doing so, is perfectly evident from the whole tenor of human life. III. How ice are able to perceive by Means of the Senses is beyond our Covipreheiision,] The account I have given of our perception of external objects is in- tended as a faithful delineation of what every man, come to years of understanding, and capable of giving attention to what passes in his own mind, may feel in himself. In vjhat manner the notion of external objects, and the immediate belief of their existence, is produced by means of our senses, I am not able to show, and I TPTEORIES OF PKRCEPTIOiN. PLATO. 63 do not pretend to show. If the power of perceiving external objects in certain circumstances be a part of the original constitution of the human mind, all at- tempts to account for it will be vain : no other account can be given of the constitution of things, but the will of Him that made them. As we can give no reason why matter is extended and inert, why the mind thinks, and is conscious of its thoughts, but the will of Him Vv^ho made both, so, I suspect, we can give no other reason why, in certain circumstances, we perceive ex- ternal objects, and in others do not. The Supreme Being intended that we should have such knowledge of the material objects that surround us as is necessary in order to our supplying the wants of nature, and avoiding the dangers to which we are constantly exposed ; and he has admirably fitted our powers of perception to this purpose. If the intelli- gence we have of external objects were to be got by reasoning only, the greatest part of men would be des- titute of it ; for the greatest part of men hardly ever learn to reason ; and in infancy and childhood no man can reason : therefore, as this intelligence of the objects that surround us, and from which we may receive so much benefit or harm, is equally necessary to children and to men, to the ignorant and to the learned, God in his wisdom conveys it to us in a way that puts all upon a level. The information of the senses is as per- fect, and gives as full conviction, to the most ignorant as to the most learned. CHAPTER V. THEORIES OF PEECEPTION. I. Plato^s Theory/,] An object placed at a proper distance, and in a good light, w^hile the eyes are shut, is not perceived at all ; but no sooner do w^e open our 64 _ SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. eyes upon it, than we have, as it were by inspiration, a certain knowledge of its existence, of its color, figure, and distance. This is a fact which every one knows. The vulgar are satisfied with knowing the fact, and give themselves no trouble about the cause of it ; but a philosopher is impatient to know how this event is pro- duced, to account for it, or assign its cause. This avidity to know the causes of things is the par- ent of all philosophy, true and false. Men of specu- lation place a great part of their happiness in such knowledge. Felix qui poiuit rerum cognoscere causas^ has always been a sentiment of human nature. Many philosophers, ancient and modern, have em- ployed their invention to discover how we are made to perceive external objects by our senses : and there ap- pears to be a very great uniformity in their sentiments in the main, notwithstanding their variations in partic- ular points.* Plato illustrates our manner of perceiving the objects of sense in this manner. He supposes a dark subter- raneous cave, in which men lie bound in such a manner that they can direct their eyes only to one part of the cave : far behind, there is a light, some rays of which come over a wall to that part of the cave which is be- fore the eyes of our prisoners. A number of persons, variously employed, pass between them and the lighty whose shadows are seen by the prisoners, but not the persons themselves. In this manner that philosopher conceived that, by our senses, we perceive the shadows of things only^ and not things themselves. He seems to have bor- rowed his notions on this subject from the Pythagore- * It is not easy to conceive by what principle the order of the history of opinions touching perception, as given by Reid, is determined. It is not chronological, and it is not systematic. Of these theories, there is a very able survey, by M. Koyer-Collard, among the fragments of his lectures in the third volume of Jouffroy's Qil\wres de Reid. That distinguished phi- losopher has, however, placed too great a reliance upon the accuracy of Reid. — II. Reid's historico-critical account of the theories of perception is materi- ally abridged in this edition, and the order in one or two cases is clianged, for the reason intimated above. — Ed. THEORIES OF PKnCKPTION. PLATO. 6f5 ans, and they very probably from Pythagoras himself. If we make ailowanee for Plato's allegorical genius, his sentiments on this subject correspond very well with those of his scholar Aristotle, and of the Peripatetics. The shadows of Plato may very well represent the spe- cies and phantasms of the Peripatetic school, and the ideas and impressions of modern philosophers.* * This interpretation of tlie meaning of Plato's comparison of the cave exhibits a curious mistake, in which Heicl is followed by Mr. Stewart and many others, and which, it is remarkable, has never yet been detected. In the similitude in question (which will be found in the seventh book of the Republic), Plato is supposed to intend an illustration of the mode in which the shadows or vicarious images of external things are admitted into the mind, — to typify, in short, an hypothesis of scnsitivo perception. On this supposition, the identity of the Platonic, Pythagorean, and Peripatetic the- ories of this process is inferred. Nothing can, however, be m.ore ground- less than the supposition ; nothing more erroneous than the inference. By his caye, images, and shadows, Plato meant simply to illustrate the grand principle of his philosophy, that the sensible or ectypal world (phenomenal, transitory, ytyvofievou, ov kcll firj ov) stands to the noetic or archetypal (sub- stantial, permanent, ovrcos gv) in the same relation of comparative unreal- ity in which the shadows of the images of sensible existences themselves stand to the things of which tliey are the dim and distinct adumbrations. And as the comparison is misunderstood, so nothing can be conceived more adverse to the doctrine of Plato than the theory it is supposed to elu- cidate. It is here sufficient to state, that the aSwXa, the Xoyot yvoya-riKoi, the form.s representative of external things, and corresponding to the spe- cies sensiles expressce of the schoolmen, were not held hy the Platonists to he derived from without. Prior to the act of perception, they have a latent but real existence in the soul ; and, by the impassive energy of the mind itself, are elicited into consciousness, on occasion of the impression (kli^tjo-lSj Trd^o?, €p(f)acrLs) made on the external organ, and of the vital form {^cotl- Kov eidos), in consequence thereof, sublimated in the animal life. I cannot now do more than indicate the contrast of this doctrine to the Peripatetic (I do not say, Aristotelian) theory, and its approximation to the Cartesian and Leibnitzian hypotheses ; which, however, both attempt to ex- plain what the Platonic did not, — how the mind {ex hypothesi, above all physical influence) is determined, on the presence of the unknown reality within the sphere of sense, to call into consciousness the representation through which that reality is made known to us. I may add, that not merely the Platonists, but some of the older Peripatetics, held that the soul virtually contained within itself representative forms, which w*ere only ex- cited by the external reality; as Theophrastus and Themistius, to say nothing of the Platonizing Porphyry, Simplicius, and Ammonius Hermios; and the same opinion, adopted probably from the latter by his pupil, the Arabian Adclandus, subsequently became even the common doctrine of the Moorisli Aristotelians. I shall afterwards have occasion to notice that Bacon has also wrested Plato's similitude of the cave from its genuine signification. — H. On the subject of Plato's doctrines generally, and especially in respect ta O 66 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. Two thousand years after Plato, Mr. Locke, who studied the operations of the human mind so much, and with so great success, represents our manner of perceiving external objects by a similitude very much resembling that of the cave. " Methinks," says he, " the understanding is not much unlike a closet wholly shut from light, with only some little opening left to let in externa] visible resemblances or ideas of things without. Would the pictures coming into such a dark room but stay there, and lie so orderly as to be found upon occasion, it would very much resemble the under- standing of a man, in reference to all objects of sight, and the ideas of them." Plato's subterranean cave, and Mr. Locke's dark closet, may be applied with ease to all the systems of perception that have been invented : for they all sup- pose that we perceive not external objects immediately, and that the immediate objects of perception are only certain shadows of the external objects. Those shad- ows or images, which we immediately perceive, were by the ancients called species^ forms ^ phantasms. Since the time of Descartes, they have commonly been called ideas, and by Mr. Hume impressions. But all philoso- phers, from Plato to Mr. Hume, agree in this, that we do not perceive external objects immediately,^ and that the immediate object of perception must be some image present to the mind. So far, there appears a unanimity rarely to be found among philosophers on such ab- struse points. IL Theory of Aristotle and the Peripatetics. ^ Aris- totle taught, that all the objects of our thought enter at first by the senses ; and, since the sense cannot receive external material objects themselves, it receives their species ; that is, their images oy form^ without the mat- ter, as wax receives the form of the seal, without any of the matter of it. These images or forms, impressed sensible perception, and the similitude of the cave, compare Van Heusde, Initia Philosoplu'ce Plaionicce. — Ed. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. — PERIPATETICS. 67 upon the senses, are called sensible species^ and are the objects only of the sensitive part of the mind. But, by various internal powers, they are retained, refined, and spiritualized, ^o as to become objects of memory and imagination^ and, at last, of pure intellection. . When they are objects of memory and of imagination, they get the name of phantasms. When, by further refine- ment, and being stripped of their particularities, they become objects of science^ they are called int-elligible species. So that every immediate object, whether of sense, of memory, of imagination, or of reasoning, must be some i3hantasm or species in the mind itself,* * This is a tolerable account of the doctrine vulgarly attributed to Aris- totle. — H. It is a common error to refer to Aristotle himself the refinements and subtilties introduced into his system by his followers. For a full and au- thentic view of the psychology of Aristotle, see the French translations of De Anima and of Parva Naturalia, with copious prefaces and notes, by J. Barthelemy Saint- Ililaire. The translator gives the following summary of Aristotle's doctrine respecting sensation and perception : — " Aristotle considers each of the senses, in the following order , — sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. Omitting all details, we shall limit our- selves here to giving a general idea of his theory of sensibility. " Sensibility, according to Aristotle, is a simple power, — a faculty which can always act, though it does not always act Sensation is not, there- fore, merely an alteration, as many have said : it is an act which completes the being who experiences it ; in a particular act of sensation, he develops a faculty that is in him, he realizes what he can do. Thus, in sensation, a being does not suffer ; he acts. Moreover, as in sensation there is always and necessarily an object felt, it must be admitted that the sensible being is in power very nearly as in reality the being felt. Before feeling, it is unlike the being which it feels ; after having felt, it is, in some sense, like it. Sensibility is, therefore, that which receives the form of sensible objects, but not the matter ; like wax which receives the impression of the ring, but not the iron or gold of which the ring is made. The sensibility does riot become, strictly speaking, each of the objects which act upon it ; but it be- comes something analogous ; and this something can be comprehended by the reason alone ; that is to say, it is not a material phenomenon. The object is not truly sensible as long as it is not felt ; sensibility, on its side, is a mere power as long as it feels not. The act of the object felt and the act of the sensibility are therefore blended together, and indissoluble. Hence a certain relation, a kind of harmony, is necessary between the sense and the object. A sensation, if too violent, is not perceived. Sensibility is, to speak properly, a mean ; on this side or beyond a certain point, it no longer acts. " But man has not only the faculty of feeling ; he also has the faculty of feeling that he feels. He feels that he sees: he feels that he hears. Is it by the sight that he feels that he sees, or is it by some other sense ? It is by the sight; or. to speak more correctly, tlic perceptions of sight, like 68 ^ SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. Aristotle seems to have thought that the soul con- sists of two parts, or, rather, that we have two souls, the animal and the rational; or, as he calls them, the soul and the intellect.'^ To the first belong the senses, those of all the other senses, meet in a centre, in a single point, which serves as a common limit to them all, and which compares and measures them in an instant indivisible as is this point itself, indivisible as is the principle which perceives and feels. " Such is Aristotle's theory of sensibility. Not the least trace is found there, as all will see, of those sensible species, of those images, of those repre- sentative images, as Keid calls them, without which, it. has often been re- peated, Aristotle could not explain perception. I do not deny that before him some philosophers, Democritus and others, had supposed the inter- vention of images proceeding from objects to the mind, by means of which the mind is enabled to comprehend the objects. Neither do I deny that, after Aristotle, his commentators, and the schoolmen especially, have at- tributed to him, in trying to comprehend him, the vieAVS which Reid has attacked and overthrown. But I think myself authorized to afiirm that these views were never held by Aristotle himself. Pie employed a meta- phor to explain perception, and the use of metaphor (which he Iiad for- mally proscribed and disowned in philosophy) has been unlucky in this case, as it has caused his real thought to be misunderstood. But he went no farther. As a perfectly faithful observer, he has stated the facts ; he has invented nothing. Before the great mystery of perception he paused, with a prudence not exceeded by that of the Scotch school. Keid contents himself, after having refuted all previous theories, with protesting against them without pretending to substitute another more complete in their place, declaring that perception, with all its ascertained characteristics, is a fact irreducible to any other. With less profoundness and delicacy of analysis, Aristotle has said precisely the same thing: — 'We experience in sensation a modification which reason alone can apprehend.' Aristotle, it is true, has gone farther than Reid, by adding, that, in perception, the being which perceives hecoitics in some manner conformed to the being perceived. This remark is perhaps more ingenious than solid ; hut it is not the fault of Aristotle, if afterwards consequences were drawn fj'om liis theories which he never attributed to them, and which even coiitrndict them. He no more held the doctrine of idea-images^ of representative ideas, than he admitted that confusion of sensation and thought which has so often been ascribed to him, and which he refutes again and again in his treatise On the Soul. Keid has certainly rendered a real service to science by dis- embarrassing it of an hypothesis the source of so many errors, and enter- tained by some of the greatest thinkers, — hy Descartes among the rest. But this is an error into which Aristotle never fell; his theories do not cpntain it: error maybe there, but not that of Avhich he is accused by ]lcid." Traitt de VAme, Prefiice, p. xxii. The same topics are treated more fulh^ in the editor's Plan Gin/md du Traite de fAme, p. .3.5, et seq.; and in the treatise itself, Liv. 11. Chap. Y.-XII., and Liv. III. Chap. I., II. — El).. ^ This is not correct. Instead of iico^ tlie animal and rational, Aristotle gave to the soul three generic functions, the vegetaUe, the animal or sensual, and the rational; but whether he snnposcs iliese to constitute three concen- THEORIES OF PERCEPTION, PERIPATETICS. 69 memory, and imagination; to the last, judgment, opin- ion, belief, and reasoning. The first we have in com- mon with brute animals ; the last is peculiar to man. The animal soul he held to be a certain form of the body, which is inseparable from it, and perishes at death. To this soul the senses belong: and he defines a sense to be that which is capable of receiving the sensible forms, or species of objects, without any of the matter of them, as wax receives the form of the seal without any of the matter of it. The forms of sound, of color, of taste, and of other sensible qualities, are in like manner received by the* senses. It seems to be a necessary consequence of Aristotle's doctrine, that bodies are constantly sending forth, in all directions, as many different kinds of forms without matter as they have different sensible qualities ; for the forms of color must enter by the eye, the forms of sound by the ear, and so of the other senses. This accordingly w^as maintained by the followers of Aris- totle, though not, as far as I know, expressly mentioned by himself. They disputed concerning the nature of those forms, or species, whether they were real beings or nonentities ; and some held them to be of an inter- mediate nature between the two.* The whole doctrine of the Peripatetics and schoolmen concerning forms, substantial and accidental, and concerning the trans- mission of sensible species from objects of sense to the mind, if it be at all intelligible, is so far above my com- tric potences, tliree separate parts, or three distinct souls, has divided his disciples. He also defines the soul in general, and not, as Reid supposes, the mere " animal soul," to be the form or ivreXex^La of the body. {De Anima, Lib. II. cap. 2.) Intellect (vovs) he, however, thought was inor- ganic; but there is some ground for believing that he did not view this as personal, but harboured an opinion which, under various modifications, many of his followers also held, that the active intellect was common to all men, immortal and divine. — H. * The question in the schools, among those who admitted species, was not whether species, in general^ were real beings or nonentities, (^vhich would have been, did they exist or not), but whether sensible species were mate' rial^ immaterial^ or of a nature between body and spirit, — a problem, it must be allowed, sufficiently futile, but not, like the other, self-contradic- tory. — II. 70 • SENSATION AND PERCEPTION, preliciisioii, that I should perhaps do it injustice by '' entering into it more minutelv. Malebranche, in his Recherche de la Verile, has employed a chapter to show that material objects do not send forth sensible species of their several sensible qualities. III. Descartes'^ s Theory,] The great revolution which Descartes produced in philosophy was the effect of a superiority of genius, aided by the circumstances of the times.* PVlen had, for more than a thousand years, looked up to Aristotle as an oracle in philosophy. His authority was the test of truth. The small remains of the Platonic system were confined to a few mystics, whose principles and manner of life drew little atten- tion. The feeble attempts of Ptamus, and of some others, to make improvements in the system, had little effect. The Peripatetic doctrines were so interwoven with the whole system of scholastic theology, that to dissent from Aristotle was to alarm the Church. The most useful and intelligible parts, even of Aristotle's writings, were neglected, and philosophy was become an art of speaking learnedly, and disputing subtilely, without producing any invention of use in human life. It was fruitful of words, but barren of works, and admirably contrived for drawing a veil over human ignorance, and putting a stop to the progress of knowl- edge, by filling men with a conceit that they knew every thing. It was very fruitful, also, in controversies ; but for the most part they were controversies about words, or about things of no moment, or things above the reach of the human faculties : and the issue of them v/as what might be expected, that the contend- ing parties fought, without gaining or losing an inch of ground, till they were weary of the dispute, or their j . attention was called off to some other subject.f * Eeno Descartes was born at La Ilajc, in Tonraine, March 31, 1596. Mucli of Ills life was passed in Holland. He died, February 14, 1650, atl Stockholm, whither he had repaired at the invitation of Christina, queenj of Sweden. — Ed. t This is the vulgar opinion in regard to tlie scliolastic philosophy. Thel few are, however, now aware that the human niiiuh though parfialiy, wasj never more powerfully developed than during ti;c ivliddie Ai^(i:> — PI. THEOUIES Of' P!:RCr:PTJ()N.~ DESCARTKS. 71 Such was the philosophy of the schools of Europe, during many ages of darkness and barbarism that suc- ceeded the decline of the Roman empire ; so that there was great need of a reformation in philosophy as well as in religion. The light began to dawn at last; a spirit of inquiry sprang up, and men got the courage to doubt of the dogmas of Aristotle, as well as of the decrees of popes. The most important step in the reformation of religion was to destroy the claim of in- fallibilit}^, which hindered men from using their judg- ment in miatters of religion : and the most important step in the reformation of philosophy was to destroy the authority of which Aristotle had so long had peace- able possession. The last had been attempted by Lord Bacon and others, with no less zeal than the first by Luther and Calvin. « Descartes knew well the defects of the prevailing system, which had begun to lose its authority. . His genius enabled him, and his spirit prompted him, to at- tempt a new one. He had applied himself much to the mathematical sciences, and had made considerable im- provement in them. He wished to introduce that per- spicuity and evidence into other branches of philosophy which he found in them. Being sensible how apt we are to be led astray by prejudices of education, he thought the only way to avoid error was, to resolve to doubt of every things — -to hold every thing to be uncer- tain, even those things which he had been taught to hold as most certain, until he had such clear and cogent evidence as compelled his assent. In this state of universal doubt, that which first ap- peared to him to be clear and certain was his own existence. Of this he was certain, because he was conscious that he thought, that he reasoned, and that he doubted. He used this argument, therefore, to prove his own existence, — CogUo, erg-o sum. This he con- ceived to be the first of all truths, the foundation-stone upon which the whole fabric of human knowledge is built, and on which it must rest. And as Archimedes thought that, if he had one fixed point to rest his 72 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. engines upon, he could move the earth ; so Descartes, charmed with the discovery of one certain principle, by w^hich he emerged from the state of universal doubt, believed that this principle alone v^ould be a sufficient foundation on which he might build the whole system of science. He seems, therefore, to have taken no great trouble to examine whether there might not be other first principles, which, on account of their own light and evidence, ought to be admitted by every man of sound judgment. The love of simplicity, so natural to the mind of man, led him to apply the whole force of his mind to raise the fabric of knowledge upon this one principle, rather than seek a broader foun- dation. Accordingly, he does not admit the evidence of sense to be a first principle, as he does that of consciousness. The arguments of the ancient skeptics here occurred to him ; — -that our senses often deceive us, and therefore ought never to be trusted on their own authority ; that, in sleep, we often seem to see and hear things which we are convinced to have had no existence. But that which chiefly led Descartes to think that he ought not to trust to his senses, without proof of their veracity, was, that he took it for granted, as all philosophers had done before him, that he did not perceive external ob- jects themselves, but certain images of them in his own mind, called ideas. He was certain, by consciousness, that he had the ideas of sun and moon, earth and sea ; but how could he be assured that there really existed external objects like to these ideas ? Hitherto he was uncertain of every thing but of his own existence, and the existence of the operations and ideas of his own mind. Some of his disciples, it is said, remained at this stage of his system, and got the name of Egoists,'' They could not find evidence in the subsequent stages of his progress. But Descartes re- solved not to stop here ; he endeavoured to prove, by a * Sir W. Hamilton can find no satisfactory evidence of the existence of this sect. — Ed. THEOrUKS OF rKRCKPTiOX. DESCARTES. 73 new argument, drawn from his idea of a Deity, the ex- istence of an infinitely perfect Being, who made him and all his faculties. From the perfection of this Being, he inferred that he could be no deceiver; and therefore concluded, that his senses, and the other facul- ties he found in himself, are not fallacious, but may be trusted, when a proper use is made of them. The merit of Descartes cannot be easily conceived by those w^ho have not some notion of the Peripatetic system in which he was educated. To throw off the prejudices of education, and to create a system of nature totally different from that which had subdued the understanding of mankind, and kept it in subjec- tion for so many centuries, required an uncommon force of mind. In the world of Descartes w^e meet with two kinds of beings only, — to wit, body and mind; the first, the object of our senses, the other, of consciousness; both of them things of which we have a distinct apprehen- sion, if the human mind be capable of distinct appre- hension at all. To the first, no qualities are ascribed but extension, figure, and motion ; to the last, nothing but thought, and its various modifications, of which we are conscious.* He could observe no common attri- bute, no resembling fepiture, in the attributes of body and mind, and therefore concluded them to be distinct substances, and totally of a different nature ; and that body, from its very nature, is inanimate and inert, in- capable of any kind of thought or sensation, or of pro- ducing any change or alteration in itself. Descartes must be allowed the honor of being the first ivho dreiu a distinct line between the material and intellectual loorld^ which, in all the old systems, were so blended together, that it was impossible to say where the one ends and the other besfins.f How much this distinction has contributed to the improvements of * In the Cartesian language, tlie tci-in thougld included all of which we arc conscious. — H. t This assertion is true m 'jcneinl ; hut some individual exceptions nii«rlit he taken. — li 74 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. modern times, in the philosophy both of body and of mind, it is not easy to say. One obvious consequence of this distinction was, that accurate reflection on the operations of our oitm mind is the only luay to make any progress in the l^no-wl- edge of it, Malebranche, Locke, Berkeley, and Hume were taught this lesson by Descartes ; and to it we owe their most valuable discoveries in this branch of philos- ophy. The analogical way of reasoning concerning the powers of the mind from the properties of body, which is the source of almost all the errors on this sub- ject, and which is so natural to the bulk of mankind, was as contrary to the principles of Descartes as it was agreeable to the principles, of the old philosophy. We may, therefore, truly say, that, in that part of philosophy which relates to the mind, Descartes laid the founda- tion, and put us into that track w^hich all wise men now acknowledge to be the only one in which we can expect success. To return to Descartes's notions of the manner of our perceiving external objects, from which a concern to do justice to the merits of that great reformer in philosophy has led me to digress, — he took it for granted, as the old philosophers had done, that what we immediately perceive must be either in the mind itself, or in the brain, to which the mind is immediately present. The impressions made upon our organs, nerves, and brain could be nothing, according to his philosophy, but various modifications of extension, iigure, and motion. There could be nothing in the brain like sound or color, taste or smell, heat or cold; these are sensations in the mind, which, by the laws of the union of soul and body, are raised on occasion of certain traces in the brain ; and although he gives the name of ideas to those traces in the brain, he does not think it necessary that they should be perfectly hke to the things which they represent, any more than that words or signs should resemble the things they signify. But, says he, that we may follow the received opinion as far as Is j)ossil)ie, we may allow a slight resemblance. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. DESCARTES. 75 Thus we know that a print in a book may represent houses, temples, and groves ; and so far is it from being necessary that the print should be perfectly like the thing it represents, that its perfection often requires the contrary. For a circle must often be represented by an ellipse, a square by a rhombus, and so of other things.* It is to be observed, that Descartes rejected a part only of the ancient theory, concerning the perception of external objects by the senses, and that he adopted the other part. That theory may be divided into two parts : the first, that images, species, or forms of external ob- jects come from the object, and enter by the avenues of the senses to the mind ; the second part is, that the ex- ternal object itself is not perceived, but only the species or image of it in the mind. The first part Descartes and his followers rejected, and refuted by solid argu- ments ; but the second part, neither he nor his follow- ers have thought of calling in question, being per- suaded that it is only^a representative image, in the mind, of the external object that we perceive, and not the object itself. And this image, which the Peripa- tetics called a species^ he calls an idea^ changing the name only, while he admits the thing. It seems strange, that the great pains v^hich the phi- losopher took to throw off the prejudices of education, * But be it observed that Descartes did not allow, far less hold, that the mind had anv co2,'nk:anee of these organic motions. — of these material ideas. They were merely the antecedents, established by the law of union of soul and body, of the mental idea; which mental idea Was nothing more than a m.odification of the mind itself lleid, I may observe in gen- eral, does not distinguish, as it especially behooved him to do, between what were held by philosophers to be the proximate ccuisc.s of our mental repre- sentations, and these representations themselves as the objects of cognition ; i. e. between what are known in the schools as the species impressce^ and tlie species expressce. The former, to which tlie name of species, itnage^ idea, Avas often given, in common with the latter, was held on all hands to be unknown to consciousness, and generally supposed to be merely certain occult motions in the organism. The latter, the result determined I'V tiie former, is the m.ental representation, and the immediate or proper object in perception. Great confusion, to those who do not bear this distinction in mind, is, however, the consequence of the verbal ambiguity; and Keid's misrepresentations of the doctiine of the pliilosophers is, in a great meas ure, to be traced to this source, — II. 76 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. to dismiss all his former opinions, and to assent to nothing till he found evidence that compelled his as- sent, should not have led him to doubt this opinion of the ancient philosophy. It is evidently a philosoph- ical opinion ; for the vulgar undoubtedly believe that it is the external object which we immediately perceive, and not a representative image of it *only. It is for this reason that they look upon it as a perfect lunacy to call in question the existence of external objects. It seems to be admitted as a first principle by the learned and the unlearned, that what is really perceived must exist, and that to perceive what does not exist is impossible. So far the unlearned man and the philos- opher agree. The unlearned man says, I perceive the external object, and I perceive it to exist. Nothing can be more absurd than to doubt it. The Peripatetic says, What I perceive is the very identical form of the object, which came immediately from the object, and makes an impression upon my mind, as a seal does upon wax ; and therefore I can have no doubt of the existence of an object whose form I perceive. But' what says the Cartesian ? I perceive not, says he, the external object itself. So far he agrees with the Peri- patetic, and differs from the unlearned man. But I perceive an image, or form, or idea, in my own mind, or in my brain. I am certain of the existence of the idea, because I immediately perceive it. But how this idea is formed, or what it represents, is not self-evident; and therefore I must find arguments by which, from the existence of the idea which I perceive, I can infer the existence of an external object which it represents. As I take this to be a just view of the principles of the unlearned man, of the Peripatetic, and of 'the Cartesian, so I think they all reason consequentially from their several principles. The Cartesian has strong grounds to doubt of the existence of external objects, the Peripatetic very little ground of doubt, and the unlearned man none at all; and the dlfierence of their situation arises from this,- — that the unlearned map has no hypothesis, the Peripatetic leans upon an hv THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. MALEBRANCHE. 77 pothesis, and the Cartesian upon one half of that hypothesis.* IV. Malebranchc^s Theory.] Malebranche, with a very penetrating genius, entered into a more minute examination of the powers of the human mind than any one before him^.f He had the advantage of the discoveries made by Descartes, whom he followed without slavish attachment. He lays it down as a principle admitted by all phi» losophers, and which could not be called in question, that we do not perceive external objects immediately, but by means of images or ideas of them present to the mind. " I suppose,'*' says he, " that every one will grant that we perceive not the objects that are v/ithout us immediately, and of themselves.^ We see the sun, the stars, and an infinity of objects without us; and it is not at all likely that the soul sallies out of the body, and, as it were, takes a walk through the heavens to contemplate all those objects. She sees them not, therefore, by themselves ; and the immediate object of the mind, when it sees the sun, for example, is not the sun, but something which is intimately united to the soul ; and it is that which I call an idea : so that by the word idea I understand nothing else here but that which is the immediate object, or nearest to the mind, when we perceive any object. It ought to be carefully observed, that, in order to the mind's perceiving any * M. Garnier has published the best edition of Descartes's metaphysical writings, (Eiivres Ph'dosophiques de Descartes (4 vols., Svo, Paris, 1835). For the best account of Cartesianism, and its influence on modern thought, see Histoire et Critique de la Rdvolution Cartesienne^ par M. Francisque Bouillier. See, also, Stewart's Dissertation^ Part I. Chap. II. Sect. II.; Hallam's Literature of Europe^ from 1600 to 1650, Chap. III. Sect. III. ; Damiron, Essai sur V Histoire de la Philosoplde en France^ au XVII^ Siecle^ Liv. II. . Vie have met with but two English translations from Descartes ; his Discourse of Method (I Qrao, London, 1649), published anonymously, and hi3 Six Metapliijsical Meditations^ bv \Yilliam Molyneux (16mo, London, 1680).— Ed. T Nicholas Malebranche, a priest of the Oratory, was born at Paris, Avl- gust 6, 1638, and died in the same cit}^, October 13, 1715. — Ei>. I Rather in or bij tliemselaes (par eux-riicmes). — II. 78 SENSATIOM AND PERCEPTIO?;, object, it is absolutely necessary that the idea of that object be actually present to it. Of this it is not pos- sible to doubt. The things which the soul perceives are of two kinds. They are either in the soul, or they are without the soul : those that are in the soul are its own thoughts, that is to say, all its different rnodifica- tions. The soul has no need of ideas for perceiving these things. But with regard to things vWthont the soul, we cannot perceive them but by means of ideas." ^ Having laid this foundation, as a principle vv^hich was common to all philosophers, and which admitted of no doubt, he proceeds to enumerate all the possible ways by which the ideas of sensible objects may be presented to the mind: — Either, first, they come from, the bodies which we perceive ; or, secondltj^ the soul has the power of producing them in itself; or, thirdly^ they are produced by the Deity, either in our creation, or occasionally, as there is use for them ; or, fourthly^ the soul has in itself virtually and eminently, as the schools speak, all the perfections which it perceives in bodies ; or, fifthly^ the soul is united with a being pos- sessed of all perfection, who has in himself the ideas of all created things. This he takes to be a complete enumeration of all the possible ways in which the ideas of external objects may be presented to our minds. He employs a whole chapter upon each ; refuting the first four, and confirm- ing the last by various arguments. The Deity, being always present to our minds in a more intimate man- ner than any other being, may, upon occasion of the impressions made on our bodies, discover to us, as far as he thinks proper, and according to fixed laws, his own ideas of the object; and thus "we see all things in God,'' or in the Divine ideas.f * De hi Recherche de la Veritd, Liv. III. Partie II. Chap. I. t It should have been noticed that the Malebranchian philosophy is fun- damentally Cartesian, and that after De la Forge and Geulinx, the doc- trine of Divine Assistance^ implicitly maintained by Descartes, was most ably developed by Malcbran^he, to whom it ov.es, indeed, a principal share Qf its celebrity. — H. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. MALEBRANCIIE. 79 However visionary this system may appear on a su- perficial view, yet when we consider that he agreed with the whole tribe of philosophers in conceiving ideas 'to be the immediate objects of perception, and that he found insuperable difiiculties, and even absurdities, in every other hypothesis concerning them, it will not ap- pear so wonderful that a man of very great genius should fall into this ; and probably it pleased so devout a man the more, that it sets in the most striking light our dependence upon God, and his continual presence with us. He distinguished, more accurately than any philoso^ pher had done before, the objects which Vv^e perceive from the sensations in oar own minds, which, by the laws of nature, always accompany the perception of the object. As in many things, so particularly in this, he has great merit : for this, I apprehend, is a key that opens the wa,y to a right understanding both of our external senses and of other powders of the mind. The vulgar confound sensation with other powers of the mind, and with their objects, because the purposes of life do not niake a distinction necessa.ry. The con- founding of these in common language has led philoso- phers, in one period, to make those things external which really are sensations in our own minds ; and, in another period, running, as is usual, into the contrary extreme, to make almost every thing to be a sensation or feeling in our minds. It is obvious, that the svstem of Malebranche leaves n^o evidence of the existence of a material ivorld from what we perceive by our senses ; for the Divine ideas, which are the objects immediately perceived, i^'^re the same before the luorld luas created, Malebranche was too acute not to discern this consequence of his system, and too candid not to acknowledge it : he fairly owns it, and endeavours to make advantage of it, resting the complete evidence we have of the existence of matter upon the authority of revelation. He shows, th^ the arguments brought by Descartes to prove the existence of a material world, though as good as any that reason 80 SENSATION AND PKliCEPTION. could furnish, are not perfectly conclusive ; and though he acknowledges, with Descartes, that we feel a strong propensity to believe the existence of a material world, yet he thinks this is not sufficient, and that to yield to such propensities without evidence is to expose our- selves to perpetual delusion. He thinks, therefore, that the only convincing evidence we have of the existence of the material world is, that we are assured by revela- tion that " God created the heavens and the earth," and that " the Word was made flesh." He is sensible of the ridicale to which so strange an opinion may ex- pose him among those who are guided by prejudice ; but, for the sake of truth, he is willing to bear it. But no author, not even Bishop Berkeley, has shown more clearly, that, either upon his own system, or upon the common principles of philosophers with regard to ideaSj we have no evidence left, either from reason or from our senses, of the existence of a material world. It is no more than justice to Father Malebranche to ac- knowledge, that Bishop Berkeley's arguments are to be found in him in their whole force.* Malebranche's system was adopted by many devout people in France, of both sexes; but it seems to have had no great currency in other countries. Mr. Locke wrote a small tract against it, which is found among his posthumous works ; but whether it was written in haste, or after the vigor of his understanding was im- paired by age, there is less of strength and solidity in it than in most of his writings. f The most formidable antai^onist Malebranche met with was in his own country, — Antony Arnauld, doctor of the Sorbonne, ^ Once, and only once, these eminent philosophers had the pleasure of an interview. " The conversation," we are told, " turned on the non-exist- ence of matter. Malebranche, who liad an inflammation in his lungs, and whom Berkeley found preparing a medicine in his cell, and cooking it in a small pipkin, exerted his voice so violently in tlic heat of their dispute, that he increased his disorder, which carried him off in a few days after." Biofj. Brit., Art. Berkeley. — Ed. t In answer to Locke's Examination of P. Malebranche's Opinions^ Leib- nitz wrote Remarqiies^ making No. LXVI. of Erdmann's edition of his Opera Philosophica. — Ed. TIIEORIEv3 OF PERCEPTION. ARNAULD. 81 and one of the acutest writers the Jansenists have to boast of, though that sect lias produced many. Those who choose to see this system attacked on the one hand, and defended on the other, with subtilty of argu- ment and elegance of expression, and on the part of Arnauld with much wit and humor, may find satisfac- tion by reading Malebranche^s Inquiry after Truths Arnauld's book of True and False IdeaSy Malebranche's Defence^ and some subsequent replies and defences. In controversies of this kind, the assailant commonly has the advantage, if the parties are not unequally matched ; for it is easier to overturn all the theories of philosophers upon this subject, than to defend any one of them. Mr. Bayle makes a very just rem.ark upon this controversy, that the arguments of Mr. Arnauld against the system of Malebranche were often unan- swerable, but they were capable of being retorted against his own system ; and his ingenious antagonist knew well how to use this defence.* V. Arnaidd^s Theory,] The controversy between Malebranche and Arnauld f necessarily led them to consider what kind of things ideas are, a point upon * Independently of his principal hypothesis altogether, the works of Malebranche deserve the most attentive study, both on account of the many admirable thoughts and observations with which they abound, and because they are among the few consummate m^odcls of philosophical elo- quence. — H. Charpentier has published in his Bihliothcque PJiilosoph'qne a good edi- tion of Malebranche's metaphysical writings, — (Eiivres^ edition coliationee sur les meilleurs textes, comprenant : les Entretiens Metaphysiques, les J/e- ditations, le Traite de V Amour de Dieu, VEntretien d'un Philosophe Chretien et dhin Philosophe Chiiiois, la Recherche de la Veriti, avec notes et introduction par J. Simon (2 vols., 12mo). For further information respecting Male- branche and his philosophy, see Ze Carte sianisme^ou la Veritable Renova- tion des Sciences, par M. Bordas Demoulin ; Dictionnaire des Sciences Philo' sophiques, Art. Malebranche ; Damiron, Dela Philosophieen France, nuX.VIIe Sier.le. Liv. VI. ; Stewart's Dissertation, Part I. Chap. II. Sect. II. Malebranche's Search after Tnith was translated into English by Eichard Sault (2 vols., 12mo, London, 1694); and his Treatise of Morality, by James Shipton (12m,o, London, 1699). Sault translated also his Treatise of Nature and Grace. — Ed. t Antoine Arnanld, doctor of tlie Sorbonne. whom the Port-Eoyalists call "le grand," was born at Paris, February 8, 1612, and died at Brussels, Augusts, 1694.— Ed. 82 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. which other philosophers had very generally been silent. Both of them professed the doctrine universally re- ceived, that we perceive not material things immedi- ately, that it is their ideas that are the immediate ob- jects of om' thought, and that it is in the idea of every thing that we perceive its properties. - It is necessary to premise, that both these authors use the word perception^ as Descartes had done before them, to signify every operation of the understanding.* '^ To think, to know, to perceive, are the same thing," says Mr. Arnauld, Chap. V. Def. 2. It is likewise to be observed, that the various operations of the mind are by both called modifications of the mind. Perhaps they were led into this phrase by the Cartesian doc- trine, that the essence of the mind consists in thinking, as that of body consists in extension. I apprehend, therefore, that when they make sensation, perception, memory, and imagination to be various modifications of the mind, they mean no more than that these are things which can only exist in the mind as their sub- ject. We express the same thing by calling them various modes of thinking, or various operations of the mind.f The things which the mind perceives, says Male- branche, are of two kinds. They are either in the mind itself, or they are external to it. The things in the mind are all its different modifications, its sensa- tions, its imaginations, its pure intellections, its pas- sions and affections. These are immediately perceived; we are conscious of them, and have no need of ideas to represent them, to us. Things external to the mind are either corporeal or spiritucd. With regard to the last, he thinks it possi- ble, that, in anotlier state, spirits may be an immediate * Every apprehensive^ or strictly cognitive^ operation of the understand- ing. — H. t Modes or modifications of mind, in the Cartesian scliool, mean merely what some recent philosophers express by sfftts of mind, and include both the active and passive plicnomena of tlic f()u,-;(i(»iis subject. The terms were used by Descartes as well as by \\\ ■ .lisci^jlcs, — 11 ' THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. — -ARNAULD. 83 object of our understandings, and so be perceived with- out ideas ; that there may be such a union of spirits as that they may immediately perceive each other, and communicate their thoughts mutually, without signs and without ideas. But leaving this as a problemati- cal point, he holds it to be undeniable, that 'material things cannot be perceived immediately, but only by the mediation of ideas. He thought it likewise undeni- able, that the idea must be immediately present to the mind, that it must touch the soul, as it were, and mod- ify its perception of the object. From these principles we must necessarily conclude, either that the idea is some modification of the human mind, or that it must be an idea in the Divine mind, which is always intimately present with our minds. The matter being brought to this alternative, Male- branche considers, first, all the possible ways such a modification may be produced in our mind as that we call an idea of a material object, taking it for granted always that it must be an object perceived, and some- thing' different from the act of the mind in perceiving- it. He finds insuperable objections against every hy- pothesis of such ideas being produced in our minds, and therefore concludes, that the immediate objects of perception are the ideas of the Divine mind. Against this system Arnauld wrote his book of True and False Ideas, He does not object to the alterna- tive mentioned by Malebranche ; but he maintains, that ideas are modifications of our minds. And finding no other modification of the human mind which can be called the idea of an external object, he says it is only another word for perception, (Chap. V. Def. 3.) " I take the idea of an object, and the perception of an object, to be the same thing. I do not say whether there may be other things to which the name of idea may be given. But it is certain that there are ideas taken in this sense, and that these ideas are either attributes or modifications of our minds." * * Arnauld did not allow that perceptions and ideas are really or numeri 64 * SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. This, I think, indeed, was to attack the system of Male bran che upon its weak side, and where, at the same time, an attack was least expected. Philosophers had been so unanimous in maintaining that we do not perceive external objects immediately, but by certain representative images of them called ideas^ that Male- branche might well think his system secure upon that quptrter, and that the only question to be determined was, in Vv^hat subject those ideas are placed, whether in the human or in the Divine mind. But, says Arnauld, these ideas are mere chimeras, fictions of philosophers ; there are no such beings in nature ; and therefore it is to no purpose to inquire whether they are in the Divine or, in the human mind. The only true and real ideas are our perceptions, which are acknowledged by all philosophers, and Malebranche himself, to be acts or modifications of our own minds. He does not say that the fictitious ideas were a fiction of Malebranche. He acknowledges that they had been very generally maintained by the scholastic philoso- phers, and points out, very judiciously, the prejudices that had led them into the belief of such ideas. Of all the powers of our mind, the external senses are thought to be the best understood, and their objects are the most familiar. Hence we measure other pow- ers by them, and transfer to other powers the language Vvdiich properly belongs to them. The objects of sense must be present to the sense, or within its sphere, in order to their being perceived. Hence, by analogy, we are led to say of every thing when we think of it, that it is presepd to the mind, or 171 the mind. But this presence is metaphorical or analogical only ; and Ar- nauld calls it objective presence, to distinguish it from call!j distin<:^uished, — i. c. as one thing from another thing; not even that they are modcdhj distinguished. — i. e. as a thing from its mode. He main- tained that they arc reallj) identical, and only rationally discriminated as viewed in different relations; the indivisible mental modification being called a perception^ by reference to the mind or thinking subject, —an idea^ })y reference to the mediate object or thing thonght. Arnaiild everywhere avows that he denies ideas, only as existences distinct from the act itself of perception. — If. ^ THEORIES OF PERCEPTlOx\. AllNAULD. 85 that local presence which is required in objects that are perceived by sense. But both being called by the same name, they are confounded together, and those things that belong only to Teal or local presence are attributed to the metaphorical. Vv^e are likewise accustomed to see objects by their images in a mirror, or in water; and hence are led, by analogy, to think that objects may be presented to the memory or imagination, in some similar manner, by image ^^ which philosophers have called ideas. By such prejudices and analogies, Arnauld conceives, men have been led to believe that the objects of mem- ory and imagination must be presented to the mind by images or ideas ; and the philosophers have been more carried away by these prejudices than even the vulgar, because the use made of this theory was to explain and account for the various operations of the mind, a matter in which the vulgar take no concern. He thinks, however, that Descartes had got the better of these prejudices, and that he uses the word idea as signifying the same thing with perception^ and is therefore sur- prised that a disciple of Descartes, and one who was so great an admirer of him as Malebranche, should be carried away by them. It is strange, indeed, that the two most eminent disciples of Descartes, and his contemporaries, should differ so essentially with regard to his doctrine concerning ideas. I shall not attempt to give the reader an account of the continuation of this controversy between those two acute philosophers, in the subsequent defences and replies, because I have not access to them. After much reasoning, and some animosity, each continued in his -own opinion, and left his antagonist where he found him. Malebranche's opinion of our seeing all tilings in God soon died away of itself, and Arnauld' s notion of ideas seems to have been less regarded than it deserved by the philosophers that came after him ; per- haps for this reason, amxOng others, that it seemicd to be in some sort given up by himself, in his attempting 8 * . " 86 SENSATION AND PERCEPTIONe to reconcile it to the common doctrine concerning ideas.* Arnauld has employed the whole of his sixth chapter to show that these ways of speaking, common among philosophers, — to wit, that toe perceive not things ini- mediatety ; that it is their ideas that are the immediate objects of our thoughts ; that it is in the idea of every thing that we perceive its properties^ — are not to be re- jected, but are true when rightly understood. He labors to reconcile these expressions to his own definition of ideas, by observing, that every perception and every thought is necessarily conscious of itself, and reflects upon itself; and that, by this consciousness and reflec- tion, it is its own immediate obiect. V^^hence he in- * The opinion of Arnauld in regard to the nature of ideas was by no means overlooked by subsequent philosophers. It is found fully detailed in almost cyery systematic course or compend of philosophy yviiich ap- peared for a long time after its iirst promulgation, and in many of these it is the doctrine recommended as the true. Arnauld's was indeed the opin- ion which latterly prevailed in the Cartesian school. From this it passed into other schools. Leibnitz, like Arnauld, regarded ideas^ notions^ repre- sentations^ as mere modifications of the mind, (what by his disciples were called rnaterial ideas, like the cerebral ideas of Descartes, are out of the question.) and no cruder opinion than this has ever subsequently fouiiil a footing in any of the German systems. "I don't knovv'," says Mr. Stewart, "of any author who, prior to Dr. Reid, has expressed himself on this subject with so much justness and pv-.-- cision as Father Buffier, in the following passage of his Treatise on fir-:t Truths (p. 311): — 'If we confine ourselves to what is intelligible in our observations on ideas^ we will say, they are nothing but mbre modificatioiv^ of the mind as a thinking being. They are called ideas with regard to th-j object represented, and -perceptions with regard to the faculty represcnfi'ii:: . It is manifest that our ideas, considered in this sense, are not more disiin- guished than motion is from the body moved.' " — Elements. Add. to note to Part I. Chap. IV. Sect. II. In this passage, Buffier only repeats the doctrine of Arnauld, in Ar- nauld's own words. Dr. Thomas Brown, on the other hand, has endeavoured to show that this doctrine (which he identities with Ecid's) had been long the catholic opinion, and that Keid, in his attack on tlie ideal system, only refuted what had been already almost universally exploded. In this atternpt he is, how- ever, singularly unfortunate ; for, Vvith the exception of Crousaz, all tlie examples he adduces to evince the prevalence of Arnauld's doctrine are only s» many mistakes, so many instances, in fact, which might be alleged in confirmation of the very opposite conclusion. See Edinburgh RevieiL\ Vol. LIT pp. 181-196. — H. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. LEIBNITZ. 87 tbi. ^ ttiat the idea — that is, the perception — is the imiivaiate object of perception.* VI. Leibnitz^ s Theory.] The next system, concern- ing perception, of which I shall give some account, is the invention of the famous German philosopher, Leib- nitz,! who', while he lived, held the first rank among the Germans in all parts of philosoph}^, as well as in mathematics, in jurisprudence, in tlie knowledge of antiquities, and in every branch both of science and of literature. He was hJghly respected by emperors, and by many kings and princes, who bestowed upon him singular marks of their esteem. He Vx^as a particular favorite of our Queen Caroline, consort of George II., with v/hom he continued his correspondence by letters after she came to the crown of Britain, till his death. The famous controversy between him and the British mathemiaticians, whether he or Sir Isaac Newton was the inventor of that noble improvement in ma,themat- * Reid's discontent with Arnauld's opinion — an opinion which is stated with great perspicuity by its author — maybe used as an argument to show that his own doctrine is, however ambiguous, that of intuitive or im- mediate perception. (See Note C.) Arnauld's theory is identical with the finer form of representative or mediate perception, and the difficul- ties of that doctrine v/ere not overlooked by his great antagonist. Arnauld well objected, that, when we see a horse, according to Malebranclie, what we see is in reality God himself; but Malebranchc well rejoined, that, when we see a horse, according to Arnauld, what we see is in reality only a modification of ourselves. — H. Charpentier has published in his BibliotJicque P h ilo soph i que the meta- physical writings of Arnauld, GEuvres Philosopliiques, collatlonn6es sm^ les meilleurs Textes^ avec wie Introduction par J. Simon (12mo). Arnauld^ with the assistance of Nicole, was the author of La Locjique^ ou VArt de Penser, of which, under the name of the Port-Roijal Logic, there have been several editions in English. Arnauld assisted Pascal in the composition of several of the Lettres Provinciales. His entire works fill forty-five close- ly printed quarto volumes. His whole life was coTisuraed in controver- sies, and distracted by the persecutions to which tliese controversies led. "Nicole, who bore a share in most of his literary labors, hut was of a mild- er character tlian Arnauld, told him one day, that lie was weary of this incessant warfare, and wished to rest. 'Eest!' said Arnauld ; 'will you not have the whole of eternitv to rest in? ' " See Bavle, Diet., Art. Ar- vaidd, Ant.; and The Biographical Dictionary of the Society for the DifiTu- sion of Useful Knowledge, under his name. — Ed. t Gottfi-icd Wilhelm Leibnitz was born at Leipzig, July 3, 1646. and died at Hanover, November 14, 1714. — Ed. 88 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. ics, called by Newton the Method of Fluxions^ and by Leibnitz tlie Differential Method^ engaged the attention of thie mathematicians in Em^ope for several years. He had likewise a controversv with the learned and iu- dicious Dr. Sa,muel Clarke, about several points of the Newtonian philosophy which he disapproved. The papers which gave occasion to this controversy, with all the replies and rejoinders, had the honor to be trans- mitted from the one party to the other through the hands of Queen Caroline, and were afterwards [)ub- lished. His authority, m all matters of philosophy, is still so great in most parts of Germany, that they are consid- ered as bold spirits, and a kind of heretics, who dissent from him in any thing. Christian Wolf, the most voluminous writer in philosophy of this age, is con- sidered as the great interpreter and advocate of the Leibnitzian system, and reveres as an oracle whatever has dropped from the pen of Leibnitz. This author proposed two great works upon the mind. The first, which I have seen, he published with the title of Psy- chologia Enipirica, The other was to have the title of Pi^yehologia Rationalis ; and to it he refers for his ex- plication of the theory of Leibnitz with regard to the mind. But whether it was published I have not ] earned.* I must, therefore, take the short account I am to give of this system from the writings of Leibnitz himself, without the light which his interpreter, Wolff, may have thrown upon it. Leibnitz conceived the whole universe, bodies as well as minds, to be made up of monads, that is, simple substances, each of which is by the Creator, in the be- ^ "" It was published in 1734. Such careless ignorance of the most dis- tinguished works on the subject of an author's spccuhitions is peculiarly British. — II. Wolf, who died m 1754, was succeeded by Kant, whose Kritik der reinen Vernunft appeared in 1781, and commenced a new philosophical era in Germany, corresponding to that which tiie writings of lieid commenced in Great Britain. The iVench eclectics of the present day claim to be heirs of what is good and enduring in both of tliese movements, — Ei> THEORIES OF p]:i7CKr- rfo\. — -leibnitz. 89 ginning of its existence, endowed with certain active and perceptive powers. A moyiad^ therefore, is an active substance, simple, without parts or figure, wldch has luithin itself the poioer to jrroduce all the changes it binder goes from the beginning of its existence to eternity. The changes which the monad undergoes, of what kind soever, though they may seem to us the effect of causes operating from without, yet they are only the gradual and successive evolutions of its own internal poivers, which would have produced all the same changes and motions, although there had been no other being in the universe. Every human soul is a monad joined to an organ- ized body, which organized body consists of an infinite number of monads, each having some degree of active and of perceptive power in itself. But the whole ma- chine of the body has a relation to that monad which we call the soid^ which is, as it were, the centre of the whole. As the universe is completely filled with monads without any chasm or void, and thereby every body acts upon every other body, according to its vicinity or distance, and is mutually reacted upon by every other body, it follovv^s, says Leibnitz, that every monad is a kind of living mirror, which reflects the whole universe, according to its point of view, and represents the whole more or less distinctly. " I cannot undertake to reconcile this part of the sys- tem with what was before mentioned, — to wit, that every change in a monad is the evolution of its own original powers, and would have happened though no other substance had been created. But to proceed. There are different orders of monads, some higher, and others lower. The higher orders he calls domi- nant; such is the human soul. The monads that com- pose the organized bodies of men, animals, and plants, are of a lower order, and subservient to the dominant monads. But every monad, of whatever order, is a complete substance in itself, —• indivisible, having no parts; indestructible, because, having no parts, it can^ 8* 90 SENSATION AND rERCEPTION. not perish by any kind of decomposition. It can only perish by annihilation, and Yv^e have no reason to be- lieve that God will ever annihilate any of the beings which he has made. The rnonads of a lower order may, by a regular evo- lution of their powers, rise to a higher order. They may successively be joined to organized bodies, of various forms and different degrees of perception ; but they never die, nor cease to be in some degree active and percipient. This philosopher makes a distinction between per- ception and what he calls apperception. The first is common to all monads, the last proper to the higher orders, among which are human souls. By apperception he understands that degree of per- ception which reflects, as it were, upon itself; by which wc are conscious of our own existence, and conscious of our perceptions ; by which we can reflect upon the operations of our own minds, and can comprehend ab- stract truths. The mind, in many operations, he thinks, particularly in sleep, and in many actions common to us with the brutes, has not this apperception, although it is still filled with a multitude of obscure and indis- tinct perceptions, of which we are not conscious. He conceives that our bodies and minds are united in such a manner, that neither has any physical influ- ence upon the other. Each performs all its operations by its own internal springs and powers ; yet the opera- tions of one correspond exactly with those of the other, by a preestablished harmony^ just as one clock may be so adjusted as to keep time with another, although each has its own moving power, and neither receives any part of its motion from the other. So that accord- ing to this system all our perceptions of external ob- jects would be the same, though external things had never existed ; our perception of them would continue, although, by the power of God, they should this mo- ment be annihilated. We do not perceive external things because they exist, but because the soul was originally so constituted as to produce in itself all its THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. LEIBNITZ. 91 successive changes, and all its successive perceptions, independently of the external objects. Every perception or apperception, every operation, in a word, of the soul, is a necessary consequence of the state of it immediately preceding that operation ; and this ^tate is the necessary consequence of the state pre- ceding it; and so backwards, until you come to its first formation and constitution, which produces suc- cessively, and by necessary consequence, all its succes- sive states to the end of its existence : so that in this respect the soul, and every monad, may be compared to a watch wound up, which, having the spring of its mo- tion in itself, by the gradual evolution of its own spring produces all the successive motions we observe in it. In this account of Leibnitz's system concerning mo- nads, and the preestablished harmony, I have kept as nearly as I could to his own expressions, in his New System of the Nature and Communication of Substances^ and of the Union of Soul and Body^ and in the several illustrations of that new system which he afterwards published, and in his Principles of Nature and Grace founded in Reason. I shall now make a few remarks upon this system. 1. To pass over the irresistible necessity of all hu- man actions, which makes a part of this system, and which will be considered in another place, I observe first, that the distinction made between perception and apperception is obscure and unphilosophicaL As far as we can discover, every operation of our mind is at- tended with consciousness, and particularly that which we call the perception of external objects ; and to speak of a perception of which we are not conscious, is to speak without any meaning. As consciousness is the only power by which we dis- cern the operations of our own minds, or can form any notion of them, an operation of mind of which we are not conscious is we know not what; and to call such an operation by the name of perception is an abuse of language. No man can perceive an object, without being conscious that he perceives it. No man can 92 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. think, without being conscious that he thinks. What men are not conscious of cannot, therefore, without im- propriety, be called either perception or thought of any Idnd. And if we will suppose operations of mind of which we are not conscious, and give a name to such creatures of our imagination, that name must signify what we know nothing about.* 2. To suppose bodies organized or unorganized to be made up of indivisible monads which have no parts, is contrary to all that lue knoiv of body. It is essential to a body to have parts ; and every part of a body is a body, and has parts also. No number of parts, without extension or figure, not even an infinite number, if we may use that expression, can, by being put together, make a v/hole that has extension and figure, which all bodies have. 3. It is contrary to all that we know of bodies to ascribe to the monads, of which they are supposed to be compounded, perception and active force. If a phi^ losopher thinks proper to say, that a clod of earth both perceives and has active force, let him bring his proofs. But he ought not to expect that men Vv^ho have under- standing vv^ill so far give it up as to receive without proof whatever his imagination may suggest. 4. This system overturns all authority of our senses, and leaves not the least ground to believe the existence of the objects of sense, or the existence of any thing ivhich depends upon the authority of our senses ; for onr perception of objects, according to this system, has^no dependence upon any thing external, and would be the same as it is supposing external objects had never existed, or that they w.ere from this moment annihilated. It is remarkable that Leibnitz's system, that of Male- branche, and the common system of ideas, or images * The language in which Leibnitz expresses his doctrine of Latent modi- fications of mind, which, though out of consciousness, manifest their ex- istence in their effects, is objectionable; the doctrine itself is not only true, but of the very highest importance in ])sychology, although it has never yet been appreciated, or even understood, by ai)y writer on philosopliy in this island. — H. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. LEIBNITZ. 93 of external objects in the mind, do all agree in over- turning all the authority of our senses ; and this one thing, as long as men retain their senses, will always make all these systems truly ridiculous. 5. The last observation I shall make upon this sys- tem, which indeed is equally applicable to all the sys- tems of perception I have mentioned, is, that it is all hypothesis^ made up of co7ijectures and suppositions^ luith- out proof. The Peripatetics supposed sensible species to be sent forth by the objects of sense. The moderns suppose ideas in the brain, or in the mind. Male- branche supposed, that we perceive the ideas of the Divine mind, Leibnitz supposed monads and a pre- established harmony ; and these monads being creatures of his own making, he is at liberty to give them what properties and powers his fancy may suggest.* Such suppositions, while there is no proof of them offered, are nothing but the fictions of human fancy ; and if they were true, would solve no difficulty, but raise many new ones. It is therefore more agreeable to good sense, and to sound philosophy, to rest satisfied with what our consciousness and attentive reflection discover to us of the nature of perception, than, by inventing hypotheses, to attempt to explain things which are above the reach of human understanding.! * It is a disputed point whether Leibnitz was serious in his monadology and preestablished harmony. — H. t God. Guil. Leibnitii Opera Philosophica quce extant Latina Gallica G&r- manica omrda^ edited by Erdmann (royal 8vo, Berlin, 1840), is the best edition of Leibnitz's metaphysical writings. Most of them are also in- cluded in (Euvres de Leibnitz^ published, with an introduction, by M. Jacques (2 vols., 12mo, Paris, 1842). The best life of this philosopher is in German, — Gottfried Wilhelm FreiJierr von Leibnitz, Eine Biographie, von Dr. G.E. Guhrauer (2 vols., 12mo, Breslau, 1842). A life in English on the basis of this work, but much abridged, has been published by John M. Mackic (12mo, Boston, 1845). For an exposition of his system, see Eeuerbach, Darstellimg und Kritih der Leibnitzichen PhiJosophie ; Buhle, His- toire de la Philosophie Moderne^ Tome IV. Chap. III.; Biographie Uiii- verselle, Art. Leibnitz ; Stewart's Dissertation^ Part II. Sect. II. The ashes of Leibnitz repose under the court church of Hanover, with no other inscription to mark the spot than tb.ese two words : — Ossa Leibnitii. But, as Mr. Stewart observes, " tlie best doge of Leibnitz is furnished by the literary history of the eigliteentli century. "Wlioever lakes tb.e pains to compare it witli liis works, and with his epistolary cor- 94 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. VIL Locke's Theory.] The reputation which Locke's Essay concerning Hmnan Understanding had at home from the beginning, and which it has gradually acquired abroad, is a sufficient testimony of its merit* There is perhaps no book of the metaphysical kind that has been so generally read by those who understand the language, or that is more adapted to teach men to think with precision,! and to inspire them with that candor and love of truth which is the genuine spirit of philosophy. He gave, I believe, the first example in the English language of writing on such abstract sub- jects with a remarkable degree of simplicity and per- spicuity; and in this he has been happily imitated by others that came after him. No author has more suc- cessfully pointed out the danger of ambiguous words, and the importance of having distinct and determinate notions in judging and reasoning. His observations on the various powers of the human understanding, on the use and abuse of words, and on the extent and limits of human knowledge, are drawn from attentive reflection on the operations of his own mind, the true source of all real knowledge on these subjects, and show an uncommon degree of penetration and judg- ment. But he needs no panegyric of mine ; and I mention these things only that, Vvdien I have occasion to differ from him, I may not be thought insensible of the merit of an author whom I highly respect, and to whom I owe my first lights in those studies, as well as my attachment to them.t respondence, Avill find reason to doubt, whether, at the singular era when he ap})carcd, he could have more accelerated the advancement of knowl- edge by the concentration of his studies, than he has actually done by the universality of his aims ; and wliethcr he does not aiford one of the few instances to which tlie words of the poet may literally be applied: — ' Si non err.lsset, fecerat ille minus.' " — Ed. * John Locke was born at Wrington,-ncar Bristol, August 29, 1632, and died at the liouse of his friend, Sir Prancis Masliam, at Gates, in Essex, October 28, 1704, where he had passed tlie last twelve years of his life. — Ed. t To prni-e Locke for precision is ratkcr too much. — II. t Sir James IMackiutosh has said : — " Tlic Treatise .on the Law of War THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. — LOCKE. 95 He sets out in his essay with a full conviction, com- mon to him with other philosophers, that ideas in the mind are the objects of all our thoughts in every oper- ation of the understanding. This leads him to use the word idea*' so very frequently, beyond what was usual in the English language, that he thought it neces- sary in his introduction to make this apology : — "It being that term,'' says he, " which, I think, serves best to stand for whatsoever is the object of the understand- ing, when a man thinks, I have used it to express what- ever is meant by phantasm^ notion^ species, or whatever it is which the mind can be employed about in think- ing ; and I could not avoid frequently using it. I pre- sume it will be granted me, that there are such ideas in men's minds; every man is conscious of them in himself, and men's words and actions will satisfy him that they are in others." Speaking of the reality of our knov/ledge, he says, — " It is evident tlie mind knoivs not things immediately^ but only by the intervention of the ideas it has of them. Our knowledge, therefore, is real, only so far as there is a conformity between our ideas and the reality of things. But what shall be here the criterion ? How shall the mind, when it perceives nothing but its owm ideas, know^ that they agree with things themselves ? This, though it seems not to want difficulty, yet I think there be two sorts of ideas that we may be assured agree with things." We see that Mr. Locke was aware, no less than Des- cartes, that the doctrine of ideas made it necessary, and at the same time difficult, to prove the existence of a material loorld without us ; because the mind, accord- ing to that doctrine, perceives nothing but a world of land Peace, the Essay concerning Human Understanding, the Spirit of Laws ^ and the Inquiry into the Causes of the Wealth of Nations, are tlie works which have most directly influenced the general opinion of Europe during the last two (KtniwYid^:' — Edinhurgh Bevievj, Yol. XXXVI. p. 240. The yEssay concerning Human Understanding was first printed in 1690. — Ed. * Locke may be said to have first naturalized the word in English philo- sophical language, in its Cartesian extension. — II. 96 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. ideas in itself. Not only Descartes, but Malebranche and Arnauld, had perceived this difficulty5,and attempt- ed to remove it with little success. Mr. Locke attempts the same thing; but his arguments are feeble. He even seems to be conscious of this ; for he concludes his reasoning with this observation, — '' That we have evidence sufficient to direct us in attaining the good and avoiding the evil caused by external objects, and that this is the important concern we have in being made acquainted with them." This, indeed, is saying no more than will be granted by those who deny the existence of a material world. As there is no material diiference between Locke and Descartes with regard to the perception of objects by the senses, there is the less occasion, in this place, to take notice of all their differences in other points. They diflered about the origin of our ideas. Descartes thought some of them were innate ; * the other main- tained, that there are no innate ideas, and that they are all derived from two sources, — to wit, sensation and reflection; meaning by sensation the operations of our external senses, and by reflection that attention which we are capable of giving to the operations of our own minds.f They differed with regard to the essence both of mat- ter and of mind : the British philosopher holding, that the real essence of both is beyond the reach of human knowledge; the other conceiving, that the very essence * The doctrine of Descartes, in relation to innate ideas, has been very generally misunderstood ; and by no one more than by Locke. What it really amounted to is clearly stated in his strictures on the Program of Kegius. Justice has latterly been done him, among others, by Mr. Stew- art, in his Dissertation^ and by M. Laromiguiere, in his Cours. See also the old controversy of De Vries with lloell on this point. — H. t That Locke did not (as even Mr. Stewart supposes) introduce reflec- tion^ either name or thing, into the philosophy of mind, see Note I. Nor was he even the first explicitly to enunciate sense and reflection as the two sources of our knowledge ; for I can show that this had been done in a ftir more philosophical manner by some of the schoolmen ; reflection with them not being merely, as with Locke, a source of adventitious^ empirical, or a posteriori knowledge, but the mean by which we disclose also the native or a priori (cognitions which the intellect itself contains. — H. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. LOCKE 97 of mind consists in thought, and that of matter in ex- tension, by which he made matter and space not to differ in reality, and no part of space to be void of matter. Mr. Locke explained, more distinctly than had been done before, the operations of the mind in classing the various objects of thought, and reducing them to genera and species. He was the first, I think, who distin- guished in substances what he calls the nominal e^sence^ which is only the notion we form of a genus or species, and which we express by a dejfinition, from the real essence or internal constitution of the thing, which makes it to be what it is.* Without this distinction, the subtile disputes which tortured the schoolmen for so many ages, in the controversy between the nominal- ists and realists, could never be brought to an issue. He shows distinctly how we form abstract and general notions, and the use and necessity of them in reason- ing. And as (according to the received principles of philosophers) every notion of our mind must have for its object an idea in the mind itself, he thinks that we form abstract ideas by leaving out of the idea of an individual every thing wherein it differs from other in- dividuals of the same species or genus ; and that this power of forming abstract ideas is that which chiefly distinguishes us irom brute animals, in whom he could see no evidence of any abstract ideas. Since the time of Descartes, philosophers have dif- fered much with regard to the share they ascribe to the mind itself in the fabrication " of those representative beings called ideas, and the manner in which this work is carried on. Of the authors I have met with, Dr. Robert Hook is the most explicit. He was one of the most ingenious and active members of the Royal Society of London at its first institution, and frequently read lectures to the Society, which were published among his posthu- mous works. In his Lectures upon Lig-Jit, § 7, he makes ^ Locke Ikis !1<) ()ri'4ina]i;\ in (hi,^ respect. — H. 1) ' ■ . 98 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. ideas to be material substances ; and thinks that the brain is furnished with a proper kind of matter for fab- ricating the ideas of each sense. The ideas of sight, he thinks, are formed of a kind of matter resembling the Bononian stone, or some kind of phosphorus ; that the ideas of sound are formed of some matter resem- bling the chords or glasses which take a sound from the vibrations of the air; and so of the rest. The soul, he thinks, may fabricate some hundreds of those ideas in a day ; and that, as they are formed, they are pushed farther off from the centre of the brain, where the son! resides. By this means, they make a continued chain of ideas, coiled up in the brain, the first end of which is farthest removed from the centre or seat of the soul, and the other end is always at the centre, being the last idea formed, which is always pres- ent the moment when considered ; and therefore, ac- cording as there is a greater number of ideas between the present sensation or thought in the centre and any other, the soul is apprehensive of a larger portion of time interposed. Mr. Locke has not entered into so minute a detail of this manufacture of ideas ; but he ascribes to the mind a very considerable hand in forming its own ideas. With regard to our sensations, the mind is passive, " they being produced in us only by different degrees and modes of motion in our animal spirits, variously^ agitated by external objects." These, how^ever, cease to be, as soon as they cease to be perceived ; but, by the faculties of memory and imagination, "the mind has an ability, when it wills, to revive them again, and, as it were, to paint them anew upon itself, though some with more, some with less difficulty." As to the ideas of reflection, he ascribes them to no other cause but to that attention which the mind is capable of giving to its own operations : these, there- fore, are formed by the mind itself. He ascribes like- wise to the mind the power of compounding its simple ideas into complex ones of various forms ; of repeating them, and adding the repetitions together; of dividing THEORIES OF PERCEI'TION. LOCKE. 99 and classing them; of comparing them, and, Irom that com^parison, of forming the ideas of their relation; nay, of forming a general idea of a species or genus, by taking from the idea of an individual every thing by which it is distinguished from other individuals of the kind, till at last it becomes an abstract general idea, common to all the individuals of the kind. The ideas we have of the various qualities of bodies are not all, as Mr. Locke thinks, of the same kind. Some of them are images or resemblances of what is really in the body ; others are not. There are certain qualities inseparable from matter; such as extension, solidity, figure, mobility. Our ideas of these are real resemblances of the qualities in the body ; and these he calls primary qualities : but color, sound, taste, smell, heat, and cold he calls secondary qualities^ and thinks that they are only powers in bodies of producing cer- tain sensations in us ; which sensations have nothing resembling them^ though they are commonly thought to be exact resemblances of something in the body.* " Thus," says he, " the ideas of heat or light, which we receive, by our eye or touch, from the sun, are com- monly thought real qualities existing in the sun, and something more than mere powers in it." Perhaps it was unfortunate for Mr. Locke that he used the word idea so very frequently as to make it very difficult to give the attention necessary to put it always to the same meaning. And it appears evident, that, in many places, he means nothing more by it than the notion or conception we have of any object of thought ; that is, the act of the mind in conceiving it, and not the object conceived.f "^ Locke only gave a new meaning to old terms. The first and second, or the primary and secondary qualities of Aristotle, denoted a distinction similar to, but not identical ^vith, that in question. Locke distinguished nothing which had not been more precisely discriminated by Aristotle and the Cartesians. — H. t When we contemplate a triangle, we may consider it either as a com- plement of three sides or of three angles ; not that the three sides and the three angles are possible except through each other, but because we m.ay in thought view the figure — qua triangle, in reality- one and indivisiblt:- \ 100 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION, In explaining this Avord, he says that he uses it for whatever is meant hy phantasm^ notiorij species. Here are three synonynies to the word idea. The iirst and last are very proper to express the philosophical mean- ing of the word, being terms of art in the Peripatetic philosophy, and signifying images of external things in the mind, which, according to that philosophy, are ob- jects of thought. But the word notion is a word in pommon language, whose meaning agrees exactly with the popular meaning of the word idea, but not with the philosophical. When these two different meanings of the word idea are confounded in a studied explication of it, there is little reason to expect that they should be carefully dis- tinguished in the frequent use of it. There are many passages in the essay, in which, to make them intelli- gible, the word idea must be taken in one of those senses, and many others, in which it must be taken in the other. It seems probable that the author, not at- tending to this ambiguity of the word, used it in the one sense or the other, as the subject-matter required ; and the far greater part of his readers have done the same. There is a third sense in which he uses the word not unfrequently, — to signify objects of thovght that are not in different relations. In like manner, we may consider a representative act of knowledge in two relations, — 1st, as an act representative of some- thing, and, 2d, as an act cognitive of that representation, although, in truth, these are both only one indivisible energy, — the representation only existing as known, the cognition being only possible in a representation. Thus, e. g., in the imagination of a Centaur, the Centaur represented is the Centaur known, the Centaur known is the Centaur represented. It is one act under two relations, — a relation to the subject knowing, a relation to the ob- ject represented. But to a cognitive act considered in these several relations we may give either different names, or we may confound them under one, or Ave may do both: and this is actually done ; some words expressing only one relation, others both or either, and others properly one, but abusively also the other. Thus idea properly denotes an act of thought considered in relation to an external something beyond the sphere of consciousness, — a representation ; but some philosophers, as Locke, abuse it to compre- hend the thought also, viewed as cognitive of this representation. Again, perception, notion^ conception^ ^-c. {concept is, unfortunately, obsolete,) com- prehend both, or maybe used to denote either of the relations; audit is only by the context that we can ever vaguely discover in which applica tion they are intended. This is unfortunate ; but so it is. — H. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. LOCKE. 101 in the mind, but external. Of this he seems to be sen- sible, and somewhere makes an apology for it. When he affirms, as he does in innumerable places, that all human knowledge consists in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas, it is impossi- ble to put a meaning upon this, consistent with his principles, unless he means by ideas every object of human thought, whether mediate or immediate ; every thing, in a word, that can be signified by the subject or by the predicate of a proposition. Thus we see that the word idea has three different meanings in the essay; and the author seems to have used it sometimes in one, sometimes in another, with- out being aware of any change in the meaning. The reader slides easily into the same fallacy, that meaning occurring most readily to his mind wliich gives the best sense to what he reads. I have met with persons pro- fessing no slight acquaintance with the Essay concerning' Human Understandings who maintained that the word idea^ wherever it occurs, means nothing more than thought; and that where the author speaks of ideas as im^ages in the mind, and as objects of thought, he is not to be understood as speaking properly, but figura- tively or analogically : and, indeed, I apprehend that it would be no small advantage to many passages in the book, if they could admit of this interpretation. It^is not the fault of this philosopher alone to have given too little attention to the distinction between the operations of the mind, and the objects of those opera- tions. Although this distinction be familiar to the vul- gar, and found in the structure of all languages, philos- ophers, when they speak of ideas, often confound the two together; and their theory concerning ideas has led them to do so ; for ideas, being supposed to be a shadowy kind of beings, intermediate between the thought and the object of thought, sometimes seem to coalesce with the thought, sometimes with the object of thought, and sometimes to have a distinct existence of their own. The same philosophical theory of ideas has led phi- 9* 102 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. iosophers to confound Ihe different operations of the understanding, and to call tlieni all by the name of 'perception* Mr. Locke^ though not ixee from this fault, is not so often chargeable witli it as some who came after him. The vulgar give the name of percep- Hon to that immediate knowledge of external objects which we have by our external senses. This is its proper meaning in our language^ though sometimes it may be applied to other things metaphorically or ana- logically. When I think of any thing that does not exist, as of the republic of Oceana, I do not perceive it; I only conceive or imagine it.f When I think of what happened to me yesterday, I do not perceive^ but remember it. When I am pained wdth the gout, it is not proper to say I perceive the pain ; I feel it, or am conscious of it.ij: It is not an object of perception, but of sensation and of consciousness. So far, the vulgar distinguish very properly the different operations of the mind, and never confound the names of things so dif- ferent in their nature. But the theory of ideas leads philosophers to conceive all those operations to be of one nature, and to give them one name. They are all, according to that theory, the perception of ideas in the mind. Perceiving, remembering, imagining, being con- scious, are all perceiving ideas in the mind, and are * No more tlian by calling them all by the name of cognitions^ or acts of consciousness. There was no reason, either from etymology or usage, why perception should not .signify the energy of immediately apprehending, in (jeneral ; and until Reid limited the word to our apprehension of an external ruorld^ it was, in fact, employed by philosophers as tantamount to an act of consciousness. We were in need of a word to express our sensitive cog- nitions as distinct from our sensitive feelings^ (for the term sensation involved both,) and therefore Keid's restriction should be adopted; but his criti- cism of other philosophers for their employment of the term in a wider meaning is wholly groundless. — H. t And why ? Simply because we do not, by such an act, fcnoio or appre- hend such an object to exist, which is what perception^ in its wider accepta- tion, was used to denote ; we merely represent the object. We could say, liowevcr, that we perceived (as we could say that we were conscious of) the republic of Oceana, as imagined by us, after Harrington. — H. I Because the feeling of pain, though only possible through conscious- ness, is not an act of knowledge. But it could have been properly said, I perceive a fleUng of pain. At an}^ rate, the expression I perceive a pain is as coi'i-cct as I am conscious of a pain. — TI. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. LOCKE. ,103 called perceptions. Hence it is that philosophers speak of the perceptions of memory and the perceptions of imagination. They make sensation to be a perception, and every thing we perceive by our senses to be an idea of sensation. Sometimes they say, that thf3y are conscious of the ideas in their own minds ; sometimes, that they perceive them. However irri probable it may appear that philoso- phers, who have taken pains to study the operations of their own mindi, should express them less properly and less distinctly than the vulgar, it seems really to be the case; and the only account that can be given of this strange phenomenon I take to be this : that the vulgar seek no theory to account for the operations of their minds ; they know that they see, and hear, and remember, and imagine ; and those who think distinct- ly will express these operations distinctly, as their con- sciousness represents them to the mind. But philoso- phers think they ought to know, not only that there are such operations, but hoiv they are peribrmed ; how they see, and hear, and remember, and imagine ; and, hav- ing invented a theory to explain these operations by ideas or images in the mind, they suit their expressions to their theory ; and, as a false comment throws a cloud upon the text, so a false theory darkens the phenomena which it attempts to explain.* * An authentic and ample, but ill-digested and unsatisfactoiy Life of John Locke, loith Extracts from his Correspondence^ Journals, and Common- place Books, was published by Lord King (2d ed., 2 vols., 8vo, London, 1830). The best and most comj)lete edition of his works is that in 10 vols., 8vo, London, 1801, and again in 1810. The criticisms and polemics to wiiich his writings have given rise arc innumerable, of which the fol- lowing may' be referred to as being among tlic most recent and remark- able : — I)e Maistre, Les Soirdes de Saint- Petershourge, Sixiome Entretien. Cousin, Hisfoire de la Philosoplue da XVIIP Siec.le. Tome II, ; of this we have an English translation by Professor Ilcuvy, Elements of Psychology : included in a Critical Examination of Locke'' s Essay on the Iliiman Under- standinfj (3d ed., 12mo, New York, 1842). Tenncmann's Abh. iiher den Empirismus in der Phi/osophie, vorziiglich den Lockischen, inserted in the third volume of liis German translation of Locke's Essay. Hallam's LJt- erature of Europe, from 16.50 to 1700, Chap. Ill jMoreU's Hist, and Crit. View of Speculative Philosophy, Part I. Cliap. I. Sect. II, Compare wliat Stewart s;iys of Locke, in the first of his Fhilosophiccd Essays, with wliat he savs of him in his Dissertation, Part II. Sect. I. and II. — Ed. 104 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. VIII. Berkcdeifs Tlieory,] George Berkeley,* after- wards Bishop of Cloyne, published his Neio Theory of Vision in 1709 ; his Treatise concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge^ in 1710 ; and his Dialogues be- tween Hjjlas and Philonous^ in 1713 ; being then a Fel- low of Trinity College, DubUn. He is acknowledged universally to have great merit, as an excellent writer, and a very acute and clear reasoner on the most ab- stract subjects, not to speak of his virtues as a man, which were very conspicuous ; yet lAie doctrine chiefly held forth in the treatises above mentioned, especially in the last two, has generally been thought so very ab- surd, that few can be brought to think, either that he believed it himself, or that he seriously meant to per- suade others of its truth. He maintains, and thinks he has demonstrated, by a variety of arguments, grounded on principles of phi- losophy universally received, that there is no such thing as matter in the universe; that sun and moon, earth and sea, our own bodies, and those of our friends, are nothing but ideas in the minds of those who think of them, and that they have no existence when they are not the objects of thought ; that all that is in the uni- verse may be reduced to two categories, — to wit, minds^ and ideas in the mind. But however absurd this doctrine might appear to the unlearned, who consider the existence of the objects of sense as the most evident of all truths, and what no man in his senses can doubt, the philosophers, who had been accustomed to consider ideas as the immediate objects of all thought, had no title to view this doctrine of Berkeley in so unfavorable a light. V They were taught by Descartes, and by all that came after him, that the existence of the objects of sense is not self-evident, but requires to be proved by argu- ments; and although Descartes, and many others, had '* Born at Kilcrin, in the county of Kilkenny, March 12, 1684, and died at Oxford, January 14, 1753, whither lie had repaired a few months before to siij^erintend the education of one of his sons. — Ed. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. BERKELEY. 105 labored to find arguments for this purpose, there did not appear to be that force and clearness in them wb.ich might have been expected in a matter of such impor- tance. Mr. Norris had declared, that, after all the argu- ments that had been offered, the existence of an exter- nal world is only probable, but by no means certain. Malebranche thought it rested upon 'the authority of revelation, and that the arguments drawn from reason were not perfectly conclusive. Others thought, that the argument from revelation was a mere sophism, be- cause revelation comes to us by our senses, and must rest upon their authority. Thus we see that the new philosophy had been mak- ing gradual approaches towards Berkeley's opinion ; and, whatever others might do, the philosophers had no title to look upon it as absurd, or unworthy of a fair examination. Several authors attempted to answer his arguments, but with little success, and others ac- knowledged that they could neither answer them nor assent to them. It is probable the Bishop made but few converts to his doctrine; but it is certain he made some ; and that he himself continued, to the end of his life, firmly persuaded, not only of its truth, but of its great importance for the improvement of human knowl- edge, and especially for the defence of religion. Dmh Pref, " If the principles which I here endeavour to propagate are admitted for true, the consequences which I think evidently flow from thence are, that atheism and skepticism will be utterly destroyed, many intricate points made plain, great difficulties solved, several useless parts of science retrenched, speculation referred to practice, and men reduced from paradoxes to common sense." In the Theory of Vision he goes no farther than to assert, that the objects of sight are nothing but ideas in the mind, granting, or at least not denying, that there is a tangible world, which is really external, and which exists whether we perceive it or not. Whether the reason of this was, that his system had not, at that time, wholly opened to his own mind, or whether he 106 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. thought it prudent to let it into the minds of his read- ers by degrees, I cannot say. I think he insinuates the last as the reason in the Principles of Human Knoiul- edge. The Theory of Vision^ however, taken by itself, and without relation to the main branch of his system, contains very important discoveries, and marks of great genius. He distinguishes, more accurately than any that went before him, between the immediate objects of sight, and those of the other senses which are early associated with them: he shows, that distance, of it- self, and immediately, is not seen ; but that we learn to judge of it by certain sensations and perceptions which are connected with it. This is a very important obser- vation, and I believe was first made by this author.* It gives much new light to the operations of our senses, and serves to account for many phenomena in optics, of which the greatest adepts in that science had always either given a false account, or acknowledged that they could give none at all. We may observe by the way, that the ingenious author seems not to have attended to a distinction by which his general assertion ought to have been limited. It is true that the distance of an object from the eye is not immediately seen ; but there is a certain kind of distance of one object from another which we see im- mediately. The author acknowledges that there are a visible extension and visible figures, which are proper objects of sight; there must therefore be a visible dis- tance. Astronomers call it angular distance ; and although they measure it by the angle which is made by two lines drawn from the eye to the two distinct objects, yet it is immediately perceived by sight, even by those who never thous^ht of that ans^le. He led the way in showing how \yq learn to perceive the distance of an object from the eye, though this speculation was carried farther by others who came after him. He made the distinction between that ex- * ri'i This last statement is i!i;it(.-uratc. — H. THEORlEfi OF PERCEPTION. REKKELEY. 107 tension iiiid figure which we perceive by sight only, and that which we perceive by touch ; calhng the first visible^ the last, tangible extension and figure. He showed, likewise, that tangible extension, and not visi- ble, is the object of geometry, although mathematicians commonly use visible diagrams in their demonstra- tions.* The notion of extension and figure which we get from sight only, and that wdiich we get from touch, have been so constantly conjoined from our infancy in all the judgments we form of the objects of sense, that it required great abilities to distinguish them accu- rately, and to assign to each sense what truly belongs to it ; '' so difficult a thing it is,'' as Berkeley justly observes, " to dissolve a union so early begun, and con- firmed by so long a habit." This point he has labored, through the whole of the essay on vision, with that un- common penetration and judgnaent which he possessed, and with as great success as could be expected in a first attempt upon so abstruse a subject. In the new philosophy, the pillars by which the ex- istence of a material world was supported were so feeble, that it did not require the force of a Samson to bring them down ; and in this we have not so much reason to admire the strength of Berkeley's genius, as his boldness in publishing to the world an opinion, which the unlearned would be apt to interpret as the sign of a crazy intellect. A man who was firmly per- suaded of the doctrine universally received by philos- ophers concerning ideas, if he could bur, take courage to call in question the existence of a material world, would easily find unanswerable arguments in that doc- trine. " Some truths there are," says Berkeley, " so near and obvious to the mind, that a man need only open his eyes to see them. Such," he adds, " I take this important one to be, that all the choir of heaven, * Properly speaking, it is neither tangible nor visible extension which is the object of geometry, but intelligible, jmrc, or a priori extension. But of this distinction more hereafter. — H. 108 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. and furniture of the earth ; in a word, all those bodies which compose the mighty frame of the world ; have not any subsistence without a mind." — Princ. Sect. VI. The principle from which this important conclusion is obviously deduced, is laid down in the first sentence of his Principles of Knowledge as evident : and, indeed, it had always been acknowledged by philosophers. " It is evident,'' says he, " to any one who takes a sur- vey of the objects of human knowledge, that they are either ideas actually imprinted on the senses, or else such as are perceived by attending to the passions and operations of the mind ; or, lastly, ideas formed by help of memory and imagination, either compounding, di- viding, or barely representing those originally perceived in the foresaid ways." This is the foundation on which the whole system rests. If this be true, then, indeed, the existence of a material world must be a dream that has imposed upon all mankind from the beginning of the world. The foundation on which such a fabric rests ought to be very solid, and well established; yet Berkeley says nothing more for it than that " it is evident." If he means that it is self-evident^ this, indeed, might be a good reason for not offering any direct argument in proof of it. But I apprehend this cannot justly be said. Self-evident propositions are those which appear evident to every man of sound understanding, who apprehends the meaning of them distinctly, and attends to them without prejudice. Can this be said of this proposition, that all the objects of our knowledge are ideas in our own minds .^ * I believe, that, to any man * To the idealist, it is of perfect indifference whether this proposition, in Iteid's sense of the expression ideas^ be admitted, or whether it be held that we are conscious of nothing but of the modifications of our own minds. Tor on the supposition that we can know the non-ego only in and through the ego^ it follows, (since we can know nothing immediately of which we are not conscious, and it being allowed that we are conscious only of mind,) that it is contradictory to suppose aught, as known, (i. e. any object of knowledge.) to be known otherwise than as a phenomenon of mind. — H. In another connection, Sir W. Ibimilton had said, that we might give THEORIES OF PERCEPTION.- — DERKEEl^Y. 109 iininstructed in philosophy, this proposition will appear very improbable, if not absurd. However scanty his knowledge may be, he considers the sun and moon, the earth and sea, as objects of it: and it will be difficult to persuade him, that those objects of his knowledge nw) ideas in his own mind, and have no existence when he does not think of them. If I may presume to speak my own sentiments, I once believed this doctrine of ideas so firmly, as to embrace the w^hole of Berkeley's system in consequence of it; till, finding other conse- quences to follow from it which gave me more uneasi- ness than the want of a material world, it came into my mind, more than forty years ago, to put the ques- tion, What evidence have I for this doctrine, that all the objects of my knowledge are ideas in my own mind? From that time to the present, I have been tip the supposition of the existence of ideas as tertia (jucerlam, distinct at once from the material object and the immaterial subject, and yet be un- able to confute the modern doctrine of egoistical idealism, which is founded on the doctrine, ".that all our knowledge is merely subjective^ or of the mind itself; that the ego has no immediate cognizance of a non-ego as ex- isting, but that the non-ego is only represented to us in a modijicatlon of the self-conscious ego. This doctrine being admitted, the idealist has only to show that the supposition of a non-ego^ or external world really existent, is a groundless and unnecessary assumption ; for, while the law of parcimong prohibits the multiplication of substances or causes beyond what the phe- nomena require, we have manifestly no right to postulate for the non-ego the dignity of an independent substance beyond the er/o, seei^ig that this non-ego is, ex hypothesis known to ns, consequently exists for us, only as a phenomenon of the er/o." Hence he argues that the Scotch philosophers, including Reid, did not go far enough ; for their doctrine respecting the mere suggestion of extension, on occasion of certain sensations, involves tlie very groundwork on which modern idealism reposes. " All our knowl- edge of the non-ego is thus rendered merely ideal and mediate; we have no knowledge of any really objective reality, except through a subjective representation or notion ; in other words, we are only immediately cog- nizant of certain modes of our own minds, and, in and through them, mediately warned of the phenomena of the material universe." Taking this position, even the argument from common sense against idealism be- comes unavailing ; " for the common sense of mankind only assures us of the existence of an external and extended world, in assuring us that we are conscious, not inerely of the phenomena of mind in relation to matter, but of tlie ])henomena of matter in relation to mind, — in other w^ords, that we are immediatehj percipient of extended things." Reid himself, he says, seems to have become obscurely aware of t/iis condition, and to have accommodated his later views to it. — Ed. 10 110 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. candidly and impartially, as I think, seeking for the evidence of this principle, but can find none, except- ing the authority of philosophers. Berkeley foresaw the opposition that would be made to his system, from two different quarters :- ^r.s'^, from the philosophers; and, secondly Axova the vulgar, who are led by the plain dictates of nature. The first he had the courage to oppose openly and avowedly; the second he dreaded much more, and therefore takes a great deal of pains, and, I think, uses some art, to court into his party. This is particularly oi)servable in his Dialog'ues. He sets out with a declaration, Dial. 1, '' That, of late, he had quitted several of the sublime notions he had got in the schools of the philosophers for vulgar opinions,'' and assures Hylas, his fellow- dialogist, '' That, since this revolt from metaphysical notions to the plain dictates of nature and common sense, he found his understanding strangely enlight- ened ; so that he could now easily comprehend a great many things, which before were all mystery and rid- dle." Pref. to Dial. '^ If his principles are admitted for true, men will be reduced from paradoxes to common sense." At the same time, he acknov/ledges, " Tha,t they carry with them a great opposition to the preju- dices of philosophers, which have so far prevailed against the common sense and natural notions of man- kind." When Hylas objects to him, Dial. 3, " You can never persuade me, Philonous, that the denying of miat- ter or corporeal substance is not repugnant to the uni- versal sense of mankind"; he answers, ''I wish both our opinions were fairly stated, and submitted to the judgment of men who had plain common sense, with- out the prejudices of a learned education. Let me be represented as one who trusts his senses, who thinks he knows the things he sees and feels, and entertains no doubt of their existence. If by material substance is meant only sensible bodij^ that ivldch is seen and fell, (and the unphilosophical ])art of the world, I dare say, mean no more,) then I am more certain of matter's ex- THEORIES OF PERCEPTTOX. BERKELEY. Ill istence than you or any other philosopher pretend to be. If there be any thing whieh raafcnj the generality of mankind averse from the notions I espouse, it is a misapprehension that I deny the reality of sensible things : but as it is you who are guilty of that, and not I, it follows, that, in truth, their aversion is against your notions, and not mine. I am content to appeal to the common sense of the world for the truth of my notion. I am of ei vulgar cast, simple enough to be- lieve my senses, and to leave things as I find them. I cannot, for my life, help thinking that snow is white, and fire hot." When Hylas is at last entirely converted, he observes to Philonous, " After all, the controversy about matter, in the strict acceptation of it, lies altogether between you and the philosophers, whose principles, I acknowl- edge, are not near so natural, or so agreeable to the common sense of mankind, and Holy Scripture, as yours." Philonous observes in the end, '' That he does not pretend to be a setter up of new notions ; his en- deavours tend only to unite, and to place in a clearer light, that truth which was before shared between the vulgar and the philosophers ; the former being of opin- ion, that those things they immediately perceive are the real thing's^ and the latter, that the things immediately perceived are ideas luJiich exist only in the mind; v/hich two things put together do, in efiect, constitute the substance of what he advances." And he concludes by observing, " That those principles which at first view lead to skepticism, pursued to a certain point, bring men back to common sense." These passages show sufficiently the author's concern to reconcile his system to the plain dictates of nature and common sense, while he expresses no concern to reconcile it to the received doctrines of philosophers. He is fond of taking part with the vulgar against the philosophers, and of vindicating common sense against their innovations. What pity is it that he did not carry this suspicion of the doctrine of philosophers so far as to doubt of that philosophical tenet on which 112 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. his wl'ole system is built, — -to wit, that the things im- mediately perceived by the senses are ideas which exist only in the nmind ! After ail, it seems no easy matter to make the vul- gar opinion and that of Berkeley to meet. And to accomplish this, he seems to me to draw each out of its line towards the other, not without some straining. The vulgar opinion he reduces to this, that the very things which w^e perceive by our senses do really exist. This he grants. For these things, says he, are ideas in our mindSj or complexions of ideas^ to loJiich roe give one name^ and consider as one thing ; these are the Im- mediate objects of sense, and these do really exist. As to the notion, that those things have an absolute external existence^ independent of being perceived by any mind, he thinks that this is no notion of the vul- gar, but a refinement of philosophers ; and that the notion of material substance, as a substratum or sup- port of that collection of sensible qualities to which we give the name of an apple or a melon, is likewise an invention of philosophers, and is not found with the vulgar till they are instructed by philosophers. The substance not being an object of sense, the vulgar never think of it ; or, if they are taught the use of the word, they mean no more by it but that collection of sensible qualities which they, from finding them conjoined in nature, have been accustomed to call by one name, and to consider as one thing. Thus he draws the vulgar opinion near to his own ; and, that he may meet it half way, he acknowledges that material things have a real existence ont of the mind of this or that person; but the question, says he, between the materialist and me is, Whether they have an absolute existence distinct from their being perceived by God, and exterior to all minds ? This, indeed, he says, some heathens and philosophers have affirmed ; but whoever entertains notions of the Deity suitable to the Holy Scripture will be of another opinion. But here an objection occurs, which it required all his ingenuity to answer. It is this. The ideas in my THEORIES OF PERCKPTIOX. I5ERKKLEY. 11 o mind cannot be the same with the ideas of any other mind; therefore, if the objects I perceive be only ideas, it is impossible that the objects I perceive can exist anyivhere when I do not perceive them; and it is im- possible that two or more minds can perceive tlie same object. To this Berkeley answers, that this objection presses no less the opinion of the materialist philosopher than his. But the difficulty is, to make his opinion coincide with the 'notions of the vulgar, who are firmly per- suaded that the very identical objects which they per- ceive continue to exist when they do not perceive them ; and who are no less firmly persuaded, that, when ten men look at the sun or the moon, they all see the same individual object. To reconcile this repugnancy, he observes, Dial. 3, " That if the term same be taken in the vulgar accepta- tion, it is certain, (and not at all repugnant to the prin- ciples he maintains,) that different persons may perceive the same thing; or the same thing or idea exist in dif- ferent minds. Words are of arbitrary imposition ; and since men are used to apply the word same wdiere no distinction or variety is perceived, and he does not pre- tend to alter their perceptions, it follows, that, as men have said before. Several saiu the same thing, so they may, upon like occasions, still continue to use the same phrase, without any deviation either from propriety of language or the truth of things. But if the term same be used in the acceptation of philosophers, v/ho pre- tend to an abstract notion of identity, then, accord- ing to their sundry definitions of this term, (for itis not yet agreed wherein that philosophic identity con- sists,) it may or may not be possible for diyers persons to perceive the same thing ; but whether philosophers shall think fit to call a thing the same or no, is, I con- ceive, of small importance. Men may dispute about identity and diversity, without any real difference in their then splits and ooinions, abstracted from names." Upon the whole, I apprehend that Berkeley has car- ried this attempt to reconcile his system to the vulgar 10* 114 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. opinion farther than reason supports him : and he was no doubt tempted to do so from a just apprehension that, in a controversy of this kind, the common sense of mankind is the most formidable antagonist. Berkeley has employed much pains and ingenuity to show that his system, if received and believed, would not be attended with those bad consequences in the conduct of life which superficial thinkers may be apt to impute to it. His system does not take away, or iTiake any alteration in, our pleasures or our pains: our sensations, whether agreeable or disagreeable, are the same upon his system as upon any other. These are real things, and the only things that interest us. They are produced in us according to certain laws of nature, by which our conduct will be directed in attaining the one, and avoiding the other : and it is of no moment to us whether they are produced immediately by the operation of some powerful intelligent being upon our minds, or by the mediation of some inanimate being which we call matter. The evidence of an All-governing Mind, so far from being weakened, seems to appear even in a more strik- ing light upon his hypothesis than upon the common one. The powers which inanimate matter is supposed to possess have always been the stronghold of athi^ists, to which they had recourse in defence of their system. This fortress of atheism must be most effectually over- turned, if there is no such thing- as matter in the universe. In all this the Bishop reasons justly and acutely. But there is one uncomfortable consequence of his system which he seem.s not to have attended to, and from which it will be found difficult, if at all possible, to guard it. The consequence I mean is this, — that, although it leaves us sufficient evidence of a supreme intelligent Mind^ it seems to take away all the evidence we have of other intelligent beings like ourselves. What I call a father^ a hrotJier^ or a friend^ is only a parcel of ideas in my own mind; and bi^nig ideas in my mind, they cannot possibly have that rcirilion \o another mind THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. BERKELEY. 115 which they have to mine, any more than the pain felt by me can be the individual pain felt by another. I can find no principle in Berkeley's system which affords me even probable ground to conclude that there are other intelligent beings, like myself, in the relations of father, brother, friend, or fellow- citizen. I am left alone, as the only creature of God in the universe, in that for- lorn state of egoism into which it is said some of the disciples of Descartes were brought by his philosophy. But I must take notice of another part of Berkeley's system, wherein he seems to have deviated from the common opinion about ideas, as regards our evidence of the existence of other 77iinds, Though he sets out in his Principles of Knoivledge by telling us that it is evident the objects of human knowledge are ideas, and builds his whole system upon this principle ; yet, in the progress of it, he finds that there are certain objects of human knowledge that are not ideas^ but things which have a permanent existence. The objects of knowledge, of which we have no ideas, are our own minds, and their various operations, other finite minds, and the Supreme Mind. The reason why there can be no ideas of spirits and their operations, the author informs us, is this, — that ideas are passive, inert, unthinking beings ; they cannot, therefore, be the image or likeness of things that have thought, and will, and active power ; we have notions of minds, and of their operations, but not ideas. We know what we mean by thinking, willing, and perceiving; we can reason about beings endowed with those powers, but we have no ideas of them. A spirit or mind is the only substance or support wherein the unthinking be- ings or ideas can exist ; but that this substance which supports or perceives ideas should itself be an idea, or like an idea, is evidentlv absurd. Berkeley foresaw that this might give rise to an ob- jection to his system, and puts it in the mouth of Hylas, in the following words {Dial. 3) : — " If you can conceive the mind of God, without having an idea of it, why may not I be allowed to conceive the existence 116 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. of matter, notwithstanding that I have no idea of it?'' The answer of Philonous is, — " You neither perceive matter objectively^ as you do an inactive being or idea, nor knov\r it, as you do yourself, by a reflex act, neither do you immediately apprehend it by similitude of the one or the other, nor yet collect it by reasoning from that which you know immediately. All which makes the case of matter widely different from that of the Deity." Though Hylas declares himself satisfied with this answer, I confess I am not; because, if I may trust the faculties that God has given me, I do perceive matter objectively ; that is, something which is extended and solid, which may be measured and weighed, is the im- mediate object of my touch and sight. And this object I take to be matter, and not an idea. And though I have been taught by philosophers that Vv^hat I immedi- ately touch is an idea, and not matter, yet I have never been able to discover this by the most accurate atten- tion to my own perceptions. Of all the opinions that have ever been advanced by philosophers, this of Bishop Berkeley, that there is no material world, seems the strangest and the most apt to bring philosophy into ridicule with plain men, who are guided by the dictates of nature and common sense. And it will not, I apprehend, be deemed im- proper to have traced this progeny of the doctrine of ideas from its origin, and to have observed its gradual progress, till it acquired such strength, that a pious and learned bishop had the boldness to usher it into the world, as demonstrable from the principles of philos- ophy universally received, and as an admirable expe- dient for the advancement of knowledge, and for the defence of religion.* * The Works of George Berkeley, D. Z)., late Bishop of Cloipie, in Ireland. To ivhlch is added ^ An Account of Ids Life; and several of his Letters to Thomas Prior, Esq., Dean Gervais, Afr. Pope, ^c. (3 vols., 8vo, London, 1820). Some additioniil pnrticiiliirs respecting him are given nnder his name in Kii)pi.s'.s edition of the BiograpJua Britannica. Eschcnbach pub- lished (in 8vo, Eostoek, 1756) a Ciennan translation of the principal works written to disprove the existence of iho material worhl (including Berke- THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. -— COLLIER. 117 We ought not, in this historical sketch, to omit an author of far inferior name, Arthm* Collier, rector of Lang-ford Magna, near Sariim. He published a booiv in 1713, which he calls Clavis Universalis ; or^ a New Inquiry after Truth; being a Demonstration of the Non- existence or Impossibility of an External World. His arguments are the same in substance with Berkeley's; and he appears to understand the whole strength of his cause. Though he is not deficient in metaphysical acuteness, his style is disagreeable, being full of con- ceits, of new-coined words, scholastic terms, and per- plexed sentences. He appears to be well acquainted with Descartes, Malebranche, and Norris, as well as with Aristotle and the schoolmen ; but, what is very strange, it does not appear that he had ever heard of Locke's Essay ^ which had been published twenty-foLir years, or of Berkeley's Principles of Knowledge^ w^hich had been pAiblished three years. He says, he had been ten years firmly convinced of the non-existence of an external world, before he ven- tured to publish his book. He is far from thinking, as Berkeley does, that the vulgar are of his opinion. If his book should make any converts to his system, (of which he expresses little hope, though he has supported it by " nine demonstrations ^^^) he takes pains to show that his disciples, notwithstanding their opinion, may, with the unenlightened, speak of material things in the common style. He himself had scruples of conscience about this lor some time ; and if he had not got over them, he must have shut his lips for ever: but he con- sidered, that God himself has used this style in speak- ing to men in the Holy Scripture, and has thereby ley's Dialogues and Collier's Clavis Universalis), with notes and a supple- ment in refutation of the same. See, also, A Review of Berkeley's Theory of Vision^ designed to show the Unsoundness of that celebrated Speculation. By Samuel Bailey. (8yo, London, 1842.) The Westminster Revieiv, for Oc- tober, 1842, contains an earnest vindication of Berkeley. Two very ingenious articles on the same subject, and the philosophy of sensation generally, may be found in Blackwood's Magazine^ in the numbers for June, 1842, and June, 1843. There is also a valuable paper On the Idealism of Berkeley., in Stewart's Philosophical Essays. — Ed. 118 SENSATION AND PKRCKPTTON, sanctified it to all the faithfu! ; and that 1o the pure all things are pure. He thinks his opinion may be of great use, especially in religion; and applies it, in par- ticular, to put an end to the controversy about Christ's presence in the sacrament. I have taken the liberty to give this short account of Collier's book, because I believe it is rare, and little known, I have only seen one copy of it, which is in the University library of Glasgow.* IX. Huine\s Theory,] Two volumes of the Treatise^ of Human Nature f were published in 1739, and the third in 1740. The doctrine contained in this treatise was published anew, in a more popular form, in Mr. Hume's Philosophical Essays^ of which there have been various editions. What other authors, frorii the time of Descartes, had called icleas^ this author distinguished into two kinds, — to wit ^ impressions and ideas; com- prehending under the first all our sensations, passions, and emotions ; and under the last, the faint images of these, when we remember or imagine them. He sets out with this as a principle that needs no proof, and of which, therefore, he offers none, — -that * This work, though of extreme rarity, and long absolutely unknown to the philosophers of this country, had excited, from the first, the atten- tion of the German metaphysicians. A long analysis of it was given in the Acta Eruditorum ; it is found quoted by Bilfinger, and other Leibnitz- ians, and was subsequently translated into German, with controversial notes, by Professor Eschenbach, of Eostock, in his Collection of the Princi- pal Writers who deny the Reality of their own Body and of the whple Corporeal World [mentioned in the last note]. — H. A small edition of the Clcwis was publislied in Edinburgh in 1836, and another in a collection of Metaphysical Tracts^ by English Philosophers of the Eighteenth Century : prepared for the Press by the late Rev. Samuel Parr, D. D. fSvo, London, 1837). The work is now, therefore, easily accessible to English readers. AVe also have Memoirs of the Life and Writings of the JIpv. Arthur Collier. By Robert Benson. (8vo, London, 1837.) Collier was born at Langford Magna, in the county of Wilts, October 12, 1680, and died, as he had been born, in the rectory of that place, which had been nearly a century and a quarter in the family. The precise day of his death is not known ; but he was buried in Langford church, September 9, 1732 —Ed t The author, David Hume, was born at Edinburgh, April 26, 1711, and died in \\\q same city, August 25, 177G. — Ed. THEORIKS OF PERCEPTION. HUME. 119 all the perceptions of the human mind resolve them- selves into these two kinds, impressions and ideas. As this proposition is the foundation upon which the whole of Mr. Hume's system rests, and from w^hich it is raised with great acuteness indeed, and ingenuity, it were to be wished that he had told us upon what authority this fundamental proposition rests. But we are left to guess whether it is held forth as a first principle, which has its evidence in itself, or whether it is to be re- ceived upon the authority of philosophers. Mr. Locke had taught us, that all the immediate objects of human knowledge are ideas in the mind. Bishop Berkeley, proceeding upon this foundation, demonstrated very easily, that there is no material world. And he thought, that, for the purposes both of philosophy and religion, we should find no loss, but great benefit, in the want of it. But the Bishop, as became his order, was unwilling to give up the world of spirits. He saw very well, that ideas are as unfit to represent spirits as they are to represent bodies. Perhaps he saw, that, if we perceive only the ideas of spirits, we shall find the same difficulty in inferring their real existence from the existence of their ideas, as we find in inferring the existence of matter from the idea of it ; and therefore, while he gives up the material world in favor of the system of ideas, he gives up one half of that system in favor of the world of spirits ; and maintains that we can, without ideas, think, and speak, and reason intelligibly about spirits, and what belongs to them. Mr. Hume shows no such partiality in favor of the world of spirits. He adopts the theory of ideas in its full extent; and, in consequence, shows that there is neither matter nor mind in the universe ; nothing but impressions and ideas. What we call a bodi/ is only a bundle of sensations ; and what we call the 7nind is only a bundle of thoughts, passions, and emotions, loithoiit any subject.'^ * Dr. Reid had said, in anotlier connection, — " The author of the Trea- 120 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. Some ages hence, it will perhaps be looked upon as a curious anecdote, that two philosophers of the eigh- tise of Human Nature appears to me to be but a half-skeptic. He lias not followed his principles so far as tlicy lead him : but, after havino-, with unparalleled intrepidity and success combated vulgar prejudices, when he has but one blow to strike, his courage fails him ; he fairly lays down his arms, and yields himself a captive to the most common of all vulgar prejudices, — I mean, the belief of the existence of his OY/n impressions and ideas. I beg, therefore, to have the honor of making an addition to the skeptical system, without which I conceive it cannot hang together. I affirm, that the belief of the existence of impressions and ideas is as little supported by reason, as tliat of the existence of m.inds and bodies." — Inquiry into the Ilunian Mind. Clinp. V, Sect. YII. But to this Sir W. Hamilton re])lies : — '• In Keid's strictures upon Hume, he confounds two 0])positc things. He reproaches that philosopher with inconsequence, in holding to ' the belief of the existence of his own impressions and ideas.' Now, if, by the existence of impressions and ideas^ Reid meant their existence as mere phenomena of consciousness, his criti- cism is inept ; for a disbelief of their existence, as such phenomena, would have been a suicidal act in the skeptic. Of consciousness the skeptic can- not doubt, because such doubt, being itself an act of consciousness, would contradict, and consequently annihilate, itself. If, again, he micant by impressions and ideas the hy]30thesis of representative entities different from the mind and its modifications, in that case, the objection is equally in- valid. Hume was a skeptic ; that is, he accepted the premises afforded him by the dogmatist, and carried these premises to their legitimate conse- quences. To blame Hume, therefore, for not having doubted of his bor- rowed principles, is to blame the skeptic for not performing a part alto- gether inconsistent with his vocation. But, in point of fact, the hypothesis of such entities is of no value to the idealist or the skeptic. Impressions an^ ideas.^ viewed as mental modes, would have answered Hume's purpose not a whit worse than impressions and ideas, viewed as objects, but not as affections of mind. The most consistent scheme of idealism known in the history of philosophy is that of Eichte ; and Fichte's idealism is founded on a basis which excludes that crude hypothesis of ideas on which alone Reid imagined any doctrine of idealism could possibly be established. And is the acknowledged result of the Fichtean dogmatism less a nihilism than the skepticism of Hume % ' The sum total,' says Fichte, ' is this : — There is absolutely nothing permanent, either without me or within me, but only an unceasing change. I know absolutely nothing of any exist ence, not even of my own. I myself know nothing, and am nothing. Images (Bilder) there are : they constitute all that apparently exists, and what they know of themselves is after the manner of images ; images that pass and vanish without there being aught to witness their transition, — that consist, in fact, of the images of images, without significance and with- out an aim. I myself am one of these images ; nay, I am not even thus much, but only a confused image of images. All reality is converted into a marvellous dream, without a life to dream of, and without a mind to dream, — into a dream made up only of a dream of itself. Perception is a dream ; thought — the source of all the existence and all the reality which I imagine to myself of mi/ existence, of my power, of my destina- tion — is the dream of that dream.' " — Ed. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. HUxME. 121 teenth century, of very distinguished rank, were led by a philosophical hypothesis, the one to disbelieve the exist- ence of matter, and the other to disbelieve the existence both of matter and of mind. Such an anecdote may not be uninstructive, if it prove a warning to philoso- phers to beware of hypotheses, especially when they lead to conclusions which contradict the principles upon which all men of common sense must act in common life. The Eg'oists^ whom we mentioned before, were left far behind by Mr. Hume ; for they believed their own existence, and perhaps also the existence of a Deity. But Mr. Hume's system does not even leave him a self to claim the property of his impressions and ideas. A system of consequences, however absurd, acutely and justly drawn from a few principles, in very abstract matters, is of real utility in science, and may be made subservient to real knowledge. This merit Mr. Hume's metaphysical writings have in a great degree. We had occasion before to observe, that, since the time of Descartes, philosophers, in treating of the pow- ers of the mind, have in many instances confounded things which the common sense of mankind has always led them to distinguish, and which have different names in all languages. Thus, in the perception of an exter- nal object, all languages distinguish three things, the mind that perceives, the operation of that mind, which is c/alled perception^ and the object perceived. Nothing appears more evident to a mind untutored by philoso- phy, than that these three are distinct things, which, though related, ought never to be confounded. The structure of all languages supposes this distinction, and is built upon it. Philosophers have introduced a fourth thing in this process, which they call the idea of the ob- ject, and which is supposed to be an image or representa- tive of the object, and is said to be the immediate object. The vulgar know nothing about this idea ; it is a crea- ture of philosophy, introduced to account for, and ex- plain, the manner of our perceiving external objects. It is pleasant to oh^i^vsc^ that wliile philosophers, for 11 122 SENSATION AND PERCEPT ON. more than a century, have been laboring, by means of ideas, to explain perception and the other operations of the mind, those ideas have by degrees usurped the place of perception, object, and even of the mind itself, and have supplanted those very things they were brought to explain. Descartes reduced all the operatix)ns of the understanding to perception; and what can be more natural to those who believe that they are only different modes of perceiving ideas in our own minds ? Locke confounds ideas, sometimes with the perception of an external object, sometimes with the external object it- self. In Berkeley's system, the idea is the only object, and yet is oiien confounded with the perception of it. But in Hume's, Ihe idea or the impression, which is only a more lively idea, is mind, perception, and object, all in one : so that by the term perception^ in Mr. Hume's system, we must understand the mind itself, all its operations, both of understanding and will, and all the objects of these operations. Perception taken in this sense he divides into our more lively perceptions, which he cdlls. imp ressions^'^ ^iXidi the less lively, which he calls ideas. " We may divide," says Mr. Hume,f " all the percep- tions of the human mind into two classes or species, which are distingaished by their different degrees of force and vivacity. The less lively and forcible are commonly denominated thouglils^ or ideas. The other species want a name in our language, and in most others ; let us therefore use a little i'reedom, and call them impressions. By the term impressions, then, I mean all our more lively perceptions^ when we hear, or ^ Mr. Ste^vart (Elements. Addenda , to Vol.1.) seems to think that the word impression was first introduced, as a tecliniccd term, into the philosophy of mind, by Mr. Hume. This is not altogether correct. For, besides the instances which Mr. Stewart himself adduces of the illustration attempted of the phenomena of memory from the anpJogy of an impress and a trace, words correspondiug to impn^ssion were among the ancients familiarly ap plied to the processes of external perception, imagination, &c., in the Atom- istic, tlie Platonic, the Aristotelian, and the Stoical philosophies ; while among modern psychologists (as Descartes and Gassendi), iliQ term was likewise in common use. — -11. t Inquirij co/uurni/tf/ Hmtidii IJuderstandiny^ Sect. II. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. HUME. J 23 see, or feel, or love, or hate, or desire, or will. Ideas are the less lively perceptions^ of which we are conscious when we reflect on any of those sensations or move- ments above mentioned." ^ When Mr. Hume says, that ive may divide all the perceptions of the human mind into ti(jO classes or species^ lohich are distinguished by their degrees of force and vi- vacity^ the manner of expression is loose and unphilo- sophical. To differ in species is one thing ; to differ in degree is another. Things which differ in degree only must be of the same species. It is a maxim of common sense, admitted by all men, that greater and less do not make a change of species. The same man may differ in the degree of his force and vivacity in the morning and at night, in health and in sickness ; but this is so far from making him a different species, that it does not so much as make him a different individual. To say, therefore, that two different classes or species of percep- tions are distinguished by the degrees of their force and vivacity, is to confound a difference of degree with a difference of species^ which every man of understanding knows how to distinguish. Again, we may object, that this author, having given the general name of perceptions to all the operations of the mind, and distinguished them into two classes or species, which differ only in degree of force and vivacity, tells us, that he gives the name of impressions to all our more lively perceptions, — to wit, when we hear, or see, or feel, or love, or hate, or desire, or will. There is great confusion in this account of the meaning of the word 'impression. When I see, this is an impression. But why has not the author told us whether he gives the name of impression to the object seen, or to that act of my mJnd by which I see it ? When I see the full moon, the full moon is one thing, my perceiving it is another thing. Which of these two things does he call an im.- pression ? We are left to guess this ; nor does all that this author writes about impressions clear this ])oint. Every thing he says tends to darken it, and to lead as to think that the full moon which I see, and my 124 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. seeing it, are not two things, but one and the same thing.* The same observation may be applied to every other instance the author gives to illustrate the meaning of the word impression, " When we hear, when we feel, when we love, when we hate, when we desire, when we will." In all these acts of the mind, there must be an object, which is heard, or felt, or loved, or hated, or de- sired, or ^villed. Thus, for instance, I love my country. This, says Mr. Hume, is an impression. But what is the impression ? Is it my country, or is it the affection I bear to it ? I ask the philosopher this question ; but I find no answer to it. And when I read all that he has written on this subject, I find this word impression sometimes used to signify an operation of the mind, sometimes the object of the operation ; but, for the most part, it is a vague and indetermined word that signifies both. I know not whether it may be considered as an apol- ogy for such abuse of words, in an author who under- stood the language so well, and used it with so great propriety in writing on other subjects, that Mr. Hume's system with regard to the mind required a language of a different structure from the common, or, if expressed in plain English, would have been too shocking to the common sense of mankind. To give an instance or two of this. If a man receive a present on which he puts a high value, if he see and handle it, and pnt it in ^ This objection is easily answered. The thing (Hume would say) as unknown^ as unpeixeived, as beyond the sphere of imj consciousness^ is to me as zero ; to that, therefore, I could not refer. As perceived, as known, it must be within the sphere of my consciousness ; but, as philosophers concur in maintaining that I can only be conscious of my mind and its cont;ents, the object, as perceived, must be either a mode of or something contained within, my mind, and to tliat internal object, as perceived, I give the name of impres- sion. Nor can the act of perception (he would add) be really distinguished from the object perceived. Both are only relatives, mutually constituent of the same indivisible relation of knowledge ; and to that relation and these relatives I give the name of impression, precisely as, in different points of vicAV, the term perception is ap):>lied to the mind perceiving, to the object perceived, and to the act of whicli these are the inseparable constituents. This likewise has reference to what follov/s. — H. THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. HUME. 125 his pocket, this, says ~ Mr. Hume, is an impression. If the man only dream that he received such a present, this is an idea. Wherein lies the difference between this impression and this idea, — between the dream and the reality ? They are different classes or species, says Mr. Hume. So far all men will agree with him. But he adds, that they are distinguished ^^nly by different degrees of force and vivacity. Here he insinuates a tenet of his own, in contradiction to the common sense of mankind. Common sense convinces every man, that a lively dream is no nearer to a reality than a faint one ; and that if a man should dream that he had all the wealth of Croesus, it v^rould not put one farthing in his pocket. Philosophers have also differed very much with re- gard to the origin of our ideas, or the sources ivhence they are derived. The Peripatetics held, that all knowl- edge is derived originally from the senses ; and this an- cient doctrine seems to be revived by some late French philosophers, and by Dr. Hartley and Dr. Priestley among the British. Descartes maintained, that many of our ideas are innate, Locke opposed the doctrine of innate ideas with much zeal, and employs the whole first book of his Essay against it. But he admits two different sources of ideas : the operations of our exter- nal senses, which he calls sensation^ by which we get all our ideas of body, and its attributes ; and reflection upon the operations of our minds, by which we get the ideas of every thing belonging to the mind. The main design of the second book of Locke's Essay is to show that all our simple ideas, without exception, are derived from the one or the other, or both, of these sources. In doing this, the author is led into some paradoxes, al- though, in general, he is not fond of paradoxes ; and had he foreseen all the consequences that may be drawn from his acconnt of the origin of our ideas, he would probably have examined it more carefully. Mr. Hume adopts Locke's account of the origin of our ideas, and from that principle infers, that we have no idea of substance corpore^-l ov spiritual, no idea of 11* 126 SENSATION AND FFA lEPTIO]S'o potuerj no other idea of a cause thaTi that it is something antecedent, and constantly conjoined to that which we call its effect ; and, in a word, that we can have no idea of any thing but our sensations, and the operations of mind we are conscious of. This author leaves no power to the mind in framing its ideas and impressions ; and no wonder, since he holds that we have no idea oi poiver^ and that the viind is nothing but the succession of impressions and ideas of which we are intimately conscious. He thinks, there- fore, that our impressions arise from unknown causes, and that the impressions are the causes of their corre- sponding ideas. By this he means no more than that they always go before the ideas ; for this is all that is necessary to constitute the relation of cause and effect. As to the order and succession of our ideas, he holds it to be determined by tliree laivs of ctttraction or asso- ciation, which he takes to be original properties of the ideas, by which they attract, as it were, or associate themselves with other ideas, which either resemble them, or which have been contiguous to them in time and place, or to which they have the relations of cause and effect. We may here observe, by the way, that the last of these three laws seems to be included in the second, since causation, according to him, implies no more than contiguity in time and place. It is not my design at present to show how Mr. Hume, upon the principles he has borrowed from Locke and Berkeley, has, with great acuteness, reared a sys- tem of absolute skepticism, which leaves no ra-tional ground to believe any one proposition rather than its contrary : my intention in this place being only to give a detail of the sentiments of philosophers concerning ideas since they became an object of speculation, and concerning the manner of our perceiving external ob- jects by their means.* * We have a full, authentic, and interesting Life and Correspondence of David Hume. By John Hill Burton. (2 vols., 8vo, Edinburghj 1846.) There is also an excellent edition of The Philosophical Works of David ilame (4 vols,, Bvo, JSdinburgh, 1826). Some interesting notices are given REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 127 CHAPTER VI. REFLECTIONS ON THE COMMON THEORY OF IDEAS. L Statement of the Question,] After so long a detail of the sentiments of philosophers, ancient and modernj concerning ideas, it may seem presumptuous to call in question their existence. But no philosophical opinion, however ancient, however generally received, ought to rest upon authority. There is no presumption in re- quiring evidence for it, or in regulating our belief bj the evidence we can find. To prevent mistakes, the reader must again be re minded, that if by ideas are meant only the acts oi operations of our minds in perceiving, remembering, oi imagining objects, I am far from calling in question the existence of those acts. We are conscious of them every day and every hour of life ; and I believe no man of a sound mind ever doubted of the real existence of the operations of mind, of which he is conscious. Nor is it to be doubted, that, by the faculties which God has given us, we can conceive things that are absent, as well as perceive those that are within the reach of our senses; and that such conceptions may be more or less distinct, and more or less lively and strong. We have reason to ascribe to the all-knowing and all- perfect Being distinct conceptions of all things existent and possible, and of ail their relations ; and if these conceptions are called his eternal ideas, there ought to be no dispute among philosophers about a word. The ideas, of whose existence I require the proof, are not the operations of any mind, but supposed objects of of Hume and his philosopliy by Stewart, in his DisseHation^ Part 11. Sect. VIII. Jacobi's David Hume^ ilher den Glaiiben, ode?' IdeaUsmus und Realis- miis (8vo, Breslau, 1787). Kant's Prolegomena; which has been translated, professedly, into English by Kichardson (Svo, London, 1819). For a statement of Sir W. Hamilton's theory of perception, see Appen- dix. — Ed. 128 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. those operations. They are not perception, remem- brance, or conception, but things that are said to be perceived, or remembered, or imagined. Nor do I dispute the existence of what the vulgar call the objects of perception. These, by all who ac- knowledge their existence, are called real things^ not ideas. But philosophers maintain, that, besides these, there are immediate objects of perception in the mind itself: that, for instance, we do not see the sun imme- diately, but an idea, or, as Mr. Hume calls it, an im- pression^ in our own minds. This idea is said to be the image, the resemblance, the representative of the sun, if there be a sun. It is from the existence of the idea that we must infer the existence of the sun. But the idea being immediately perceived, there can be no doubt, as philosophers think, of its existence. In like manner, when I remember or when I imagine any thing, all men acknowledge that there must be sometiiing that is remembered, or that is imagined; that is, some object of those operations. The object remembered must be something that did exist in time past. The object imagined may be something that never existed. But, say the philosophers, besides these objects which all men acknowledge, there is a more im- mediate object which really exists in the mind at the same time we remember or imagine. This object is an idea or image of the thing remembered or imagined. II. The Common Theory of Ideas opposed by the Common Sense of Mankind,] The first reflection I would make on this philosophical opinion is, that it is directly contrary to the universal sense of men ivho have not been instructed in philosophy. There is the less need of any further proof of this, that it is very amply acknowledged by Mr. Hume, in his Essay on the Academical or Skeptical Philosophy.* " It seems evident," says he, " that men are carried by a natural instinct, or prepossession, to repose faith in ^' Inquiry concerning Human Understanding^ Sect! XII. Part I. REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 129 their senses; and that without any reasoning, or even ahuost before the use of reason, we always suppose an external universe, which depends not on our perception, but would exist though we and every sensible creature were absent or annihilated. Even the animal creation are governed by a like opinion, and preserve this belief of external objects in all their thoughts, designs, and actions. " It seems also evident, that, when men follow this blind and powerful instinct of nature, they always sup- pose the very images presented by the senses to be the external objects, and never entertain any suspicion, that the one are nothing but representations of the other. This very table which we see white, and feel hard, is believed to exist independent of our perception, and to be something external to the mind which perceives it. Our presence bestows not being upon it ; our absence annihilates it not: it preserves its existence uniform and entire, independent of the situation of intelligent beings who perceive or contemplate it. . " But this universal and primary notion of all men is soon destroyed by the shghtest philosophy, which teaches us, that nothing can ever be present to the mind but an image or perception ; and that the senses are only the inlets through which these images are re- ceived, without being ever able to produce any imme- diate intercourse between the mind and the object." It is therefore acknowledged by this philosopher to be a natural instinct or prepossession, a universal and primary opinion of all men, a primary instinct of na- ture, that the objects which we immediately perceive by our senses are not images in our minds, but exter- nal objects, and that their existence is independent of us and our perception. In this acknowledgment, Mr. Hume, indeed, seems to me more generous, and evea more ingenuous, than Bishop Berkeley, who would persuade us, that his I opinion does not oppose the vulgar opinion, but only that of the philosophers ; and that the external exist- ence of a material world is a philosophical hypothesis, 130 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. and not the natural dictate of our perceptive powers. The Bishop shows a timidity of engaging such an adversary as a primary and universal opinion of all men. He is rather fond to court its patronage. But the philosopher intrepidty gives a defiance to this an- tagonist, and seems to glory in a conflict that is worthy of his arm. " Optat aprum aut fulvum descend ere monte leonem." Alter all, I suspect that a philosopher who wages war with this adversary will find himself in the same condition as a mathematician who should undertake to demonstrate that there is no truth in the axioms of mathematics. III. The Common Theory of Ideas unsupported by Evidence, \ A second reflection upon this subject is, that the authors who have treated of ideas have generatty taken their existence for granted^ as a thing- that coidd not be called in question; and such arguments as they have mentioned incidentally^ in order to prove it, seem too loeak to support the conclusion, Mr. Norris is the only author I have met with, who professedly puts the question, whether material things can be perceived by us immediately. He has ofFere^i ' four arguments to show that they cannot. Firsts " Ma- terial objects are without the mind, and therefore there can be no union betvvreen the object and the percip- ient." Ansiuer, This argument is lame, until it is shown to be necessary that in perception there should be a union between the object and the percipient. Sec- ond, " Material objects are disproportioned to the mind, and removed from it by the whole diameter of being." This argument I cannot answer, because I do not un- derstand it.* Third, " Because, if material objects were * This confession would, of itself, ]3rove how superficially Reid was versed in the literature of philosophy. Norris's second argument is only the statement of a principle generally assumed by pliilosophers, — that the relation of knowledge infers a correspondence of nature between the subject knowing and tlie object known. This princijjle has, perhaps, ex- REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 131 immediate objects of perception, there could be no physical science ; things necessary and immutable being the only object of science." Ansiuer^ Although things crted a more extensive influence on speculation tlian any other ; and yet it has not been proved, — nay, is contradicted by the evidence of con- sciousness itself. To trace the influence of this assumption would be, in fact, in a certain sort, to write the history of philosophy ; for, though this influence has never yet been historically developed, it Avould be easy to show that the belief, explicit or implicit, that what knows and what is im mediately known must be of an analogous nature, lies at the root of almost every theory of cognition, from the very earliest to the very latest specu- lations. In the more ancient philosophy of Greece, three philosophers (Anaxag- oras, Heraclitus, and Alcmseon) are found, who professed the opposite doc- trine, — that the condition of knowledge lies in the contrariety^ in the natu- ral antithesis, of subject and object. Aristotle, likewise, in his treatise On the Soul, expressly condemns the prevalent opinion, that the similar is only cognizable by the similar ; but, in his Nicomachean Ethics, he reverts to the doctrine which, in the former w^ork, he had rejected. With these excep- tions, no principle, since the time of Empedocles, by whom it seems first to have been explicitly announced, has been more universally received than this, — that the relation of knowledge infers an analogy of existence. This analogy may be of two degrees. What hnoivs and lohat is known may be either similar or the same ; and if the principle itself be admitted, the latter alternative is the more philosophical. Without entering on details, I may here notice some of the more re- markable results of this principle, in both its degrees. The general prin- ciple, not, indeed, exclusively, but mainly, determined the admission of a representative perception, by disallowing the possibility of any conscious- ness, or immediate knowledge, of matter by a nature so different from it as mind ; and, in its two degrees, it determined the various hypotheses by which it was attempted to explain the possibility of a representative or mediate perception of the external world. To this principle, in its lower potence, — that what knows must be similar in nature to what is immedi- ately known, — we owe the intentional species of the Aristotelians, and the ideas of Malebranche and Berkeley. From this principle, in its higher potence, — that what knows must be identical in nature with what is im- mediately knov/n, — there flow the gnostic reasons of the Platonists, the pre&xisting forms or species of Theophrastus and Themistius, of Adelandus and Avicenna, the (mental) ideas of Descartes and Arnauld, the represen- tations, sensual ideas, &c. of Leibnitz and Wolf, the phenomena of Kant, the states of Brown, and (shall w^e say?) the vacillating doctrine of percep- tion held by Keid himself. Mediately, this principle w^as the origin of many other famous theories : — of the hierarchical gradation of souls or faculties of the Aristotelians ; of the vehicular media of the Platonists ; of the hypotheses of ^ common intellect of Alexander, Themistius, Aver- roes, Cajetanus, and Zabarella ; of the vision in the Deity of Malebranche ; and of the Cartesian and Lcibnitzian doctrines of assistance and preestab- lished harmony. Finally, to this principle is to be ascribed the refusal of the evidence oJf consciousness to the primary fact, the duality of its per- ception ; and the unitarian schemes of absolute identify, materialism, and idealism are the results. -r- 11. 132 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. necessary and immutable be not the immediate objects of perception, they may be immediate objects of other powers of the mind. Fourth^ " If material things were perceived by themselves, they would be a, true light to our minds, as being the intelligible form of our under- standings, and consequently perfective of them, and indeed superior to them." If I comprehend any thing of this mysterious argument, it follows from it, that the Deitjr perceives nothing at all, because nothing can be superior to his understanding, or perfective of it. There is an argument which is hinted at by Male- branche, and by several other authors, which deserves to be more seriously considered. As I find it most clearly expressed and most fully urged by Dr. Samuel Clarke, I shall give it in his words, in his second reply to Leibnitz, § 4 : — " The soul, without being present to the images of the things perceived, could not possibly perceive them. A living substance can only there per- ceive where it is present, either to the things them- selves, (as the omnipresent God is to the whole uni- verse,) or to the images of things, as the soul is in its proper sensoriumP That nothing can act immediately where it is not, I think, must be admitted ; for I agree with Sir Isaac Newton, that power without substance is inconceivable. It is a consequence of this, that nothing can be acted upon immediately where the agent is not present. Let this, therefore, be granted. To make the reasoning conclusive, it is further necessary, that, when we per- ceive objects, either they act upon us, or we act upon them. This does not appear self-evident, nor have I ever met with any proof of it. I shall briefly offer the reasons why I think it ought not to be admitted. When we say that one being acts upon another, we mean that some power or force is exerted by the agent, which produces, or has a tendency to produce, a change in the thing acted upon. If this be the meaning of the phrase, as I conceive it is, there appears no reason for asserting, that, in perception, either the object acts upon the mind, or the mind upon the object. REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 133 An object, in being perceived, does not act at all. I perceive the walls of the room where I sit; but they are perfectly inactive, and therefore act not upon the uiind. To be perceived is what logicians call an exter- nal denomination^ ivhick implies neither action no?' quciUtf/ in the object perceived. Nor could men ever have gone into this notion, that perception is owing to some ac- tion of the object upon the mind, were it not that we are so prone to form our notions of the mind from some similitude we conceive between it and body. .Thought in the mind is conceived to have some analogy to motion in a body ; and as a body is put in motion by being acted upon by some other body, so we are apt to think the mind is made to perceive by some impulse it receives from the object. But reasonings drawn from such analogies ought never to be trusted. They are, indeed, the cause of most of our errors with regard to the rnind. And we might as well conclude, that minds may be measured by feet and inches, or weighed by ounces and drams, because bodies have those prop- erties.* I see as little reason, in the second place, to believe that in perception the mind acts upon the object. To perceive an object is one thing; to act upon it is an- other. Nor is the last at all included in the first. To * This reasoning, which is not original with Reid, (see Note S.) is not clearly or precisely expressed. In asserting that " an object, in being per- ceived, does not act at all," our author cannot mean that it does not act upon the organ of sense ; for this would not only be absurd in itself, but in contradiction to his own doctrine, — ''it being," he says, "a law of our nature tliat we perceive not external objects unless certain impi'essions he made on tlie nerves and brain. ''^ The a^ssertion, — -"I perceive the walls of tlie room where I sit, but they are perfectly inactive, and therefore act not upon the mind," is equally incorrect in statement. The walls of the room, strictly so called, assuredly do not act on the mind, or on the eye ; but the walls of the room, in this sense, are, in fact, no object of (visual) percep- tion at all. What we see in this instance, and what v/e loosely call the ivalls of the room, is only the light reflected from their surface in its relation to the or^-an of sioht, i. e. color: but it cannot be affirmed that the ravs of light do not act on and affect the retina, optic nerve, and brain. What Aristotle dislin^'uished as the concomitants of sensation — as extension, motion, position.) &c. — are, indeed, perceived without any relative passion of the sense. But, whatever may be Reid's meaning, it is, at best, vague and inexplicit. — H. 12 134 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. say, that I act upon the wail by looking at itj is an abuse of language, and has no meaning. Logicians distinguish two kinds of operations of mind; the first kind produces no effect without the mind ; the last does. The first they call immanent acts ; the second transitive. All intellectual operations belong to the first class; they produce no effect upon any external object. But, with- out having recourse to logical distinctions, every man of common sense knows, that to think of an object and to act upon it are very different things. As we have, therefore, no evidence that, in percepr tion, the mind acts upon the object, or the object upon the mind, but strong reasons to the contrary, Dr. Clarke's argument against our perceiving external ob- jects immediately, falls to the ground. This notion, that, in perception, the object must be contiguous to the percipient, seems, with many other prejudices, to be borrowed /rom analogy. In all the external senses, there must, as has been before ob- served, be some impression made upon the organ of sense by the object, or by som.ething coming from the object. An impression supposes contiguity. Hence we are led by analogy to conceive something similar in the operations of the mind. Many philosophers resolve almost every operation of mind into impressions and feelings, words manifestly borrowed from the sense of touch. And it is very natural to conceive contiguity necessary between that which makes the impression and that which receives it, between that which feels and that which is felt. And though no philosopher will now pretend to justify such analogical reasoning as this, yet it has a powerful influence upon the judgment, while we contemplate the operations of our minds only as they appear through the deceitful medium of such analogical notions and expressions.* * It is self-evident, tliat, if a thing is to be an object immediately known, (t must be known as it exists. Now a body must exist in some definite part of space, — in a certain jilace ; it cannot, therefore, be immediately known as cxisiiruj., except it be known in its place. But this supposes the mind to be immediately present to it in space. — II. REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 135 IV. Hume^s Arg-twient slated and refuted.] There remains only one other argument that I have been able to find urged against our perceiving external objects immediately. It is proposed by Mr. Hume, who, in the essay already quoted, after acknowledging that it is a universal and primary opinion of all men that we perceive external objects immediately, subjoins wdiat follows : — " But this universal and primary opinion of all men is soon destroyed by the slightest philosophy, wdiich teaches us that nothing can ever be present to the iTiind but an image or perception ; and that the senses are onlv the inlets throu£;h which these imai>:es are re- ceived, without being ever able to produce any imme- diate intercourse between the mind and the object. The table which we see seems to dhuinish as w^e re- move farther from it ; but the real table, which exists independent of us, suffers no alteration. It was, there- fore, nothing but its image which was present to the mind. These are the obvious dictates of reason ; and no man who reflects ever doubted that the existences wdiich we consider, when we say this house, and that tree^ are nothing but perceptions in the mind, and fleet- ing copies and representations of other existences which remain uniform and independent. So far, then, we are necessitated by reasoning to depart from the primary instincts of nature, and to embrace a new system with regard to the evidence of our senses,'' We have here a remarkable conflict between tw^o contradictory opinions, wherein all mankind are en- gaged. On the one side stand all the vulgar, who are unpractised in philosophical researches, and guided by tlie uncorrupted primary instincts of nature. On the other side stand ail the philosophers, ancient and mod- ern* — every man without exception who reflects. In this division, to my great humiliation, I find myself classed with the vulgar. The passage now quoted is all I have found in Mr. Hume's writings upon this point; and, indeed, there is more reasoning in it than I have found in any other author: I shall therefore examine it minutely. 136 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. Firsts lie tells iis, that ^^ this universal and primary opinion of all men is soon destroyed by the slightest philosophy, Vv' hich teaches as that nothing can ever be present to the mind but an image or perceptiGur The phrase of being iiresent to the mind has some obscurity; but I conceive he means being an immediate object of thoiight, — an immediate object, for instance, of perception, of memory, or of imagination. If this be the meaning (and it is the only pertinent one I can think of), there is no more in this passage than an as- sertion of the proposition to be proved, and an asser- tion that philosophy teaches it. If this be so, I beg leave to dissent from philosophy till she gives me rea- son for what she teaches. For though common sense and my external senses demand my assent to their dic- tates upon their own authority, yet philosophy is not entitled to this priviles^e. But that I mav not dissent from so grave a personage without giving a reason, I give this as the reason of my dissent. I see the sun wdien he shines ; I remember the battle of Culloden ; and neither of these objects is an image or perception. He tells us, in the next place, " That the senses are only the inlets through which these uTiages are re- ceived.'^ Mr. Hume surely did not seriously believe that an imag-e of sound is let in by the ear, an image of s^jiell by the nose, an image oi hardness and softness^ of solid- ity and resistance^ by the touch. For, besides the ab- surdity of the thing, which has often been shown, Mr. Hume and all modern philosophers mxaintain that the images v/hich are the immediate objects of perception have no existerree v/hen they are not perceived; where- as, if they were let in by the senses, they must be be- fore they are perceived, and have a separate existence. Hitherto I see nothini^ that can be called an arp'u- meut. Perhaps it was intended only for illustration. The argument, the only argument, follows : — " The table which we see seems to dimnnish as we remove farther from it ; but the real table, which exists independent of us, suffers no alteration. It was, there- REFLECTIONS ON 'J'iU: THKOKY OF IDEAS. 137 fore, nothing but its image which was presented to the mind. These are the obvious dictates of reason." To judge of the strength of this argument, it is necessary to attend to a distinction which is famiUar to those who are conversant with the mathematical sci- ences ; I mean the distinction between real and apparent magnitude. The real magnitude of a line is measured by some known measure of" length, as inches, feet, or miles : the real magnitude of a surface or solid, by known measures of surface or of capacity. This mag- nitude is an object of touch only, and not of sight; nor could we even have had any conception of it, with- out the sense of touch ; and Bishop Berkeley, on that account, calls it tangible magnitude, "^^ Apparent magni- tude is measured by the angle which an object subtends at the eye. Supposing two right lines drawn from the eye to the extremities of the object, making an angle of which the object is the subtense, the apparent mag- nitude is measured by this angle. This apparent mag- nitude is an object of sight, and not of touch. Bishop Berkeley calls it visible magnitude. If it is asked. What is the apparent magnitude of the sun's diameter ? the answer is, that it is about thirty-one minutes of a degree. But if it is asked. What is the real magnitude of the sun's diameter ? the answer must be, So many thousand miles, or so many diameters of the earth. From v/hich it is evident, that real magnitude and apparent magnitude are things of a different nature, though the name of magnitude is * The (loctririG of Reid — that ?-6a7 magnitude or extension is the ohject of touch and of touch alone — is altogether untenable. For, in the ^/irst pUice, magnitude ap])ears greater or less in proportion to the different size of the tactile organ in different subjects ; thus, an apple is larger to the liand of a child than to the hand of an adult. Touch, therefore, can, at best, afford a knowledge of the relation of magnitudes in proportion to the organ of this or that individual. But, in the second place, even in the same individual, the same object appears greater or less, according as it is touched by one part of the body or by another. On this subject, see Weber's Amwtationes de Pidsu, Resorptione^ jiiiditu, et llictu. . Leipsic, 1834. — H. Compare Bailey's Review of Berkeley's Theory of Vision^ Chap. m. - Ed. 12* 138 SENSATION AND PP^RCEPTION. given to both. The first has three dimen-sions, the last only two. The first is measured by a line, the last by an ano'le. From what has been, said, it is evident that the real magnitude of a body must continue unchanged while the body is unchanged. This we grant. But is it like- wise evident that the apparent magnitude must con- tinue the same while the body is unchanged ? So far otherwise, that every man who knows any thing of mathematics can easily demonstrate, that the same individual object, remaining in the same place, and un- changed, must necessarily vary in its apparent magni- tude, according as the point from Avhich it is seen is more or less distant ; and that its apparent length or breadth will be nearly in a reciprocal proportion to the distance of the spectator. This is as certain as the principles of geometry.* We must likewise attend to this, that though the real nicignitude of a body is not originally an object of sight, but of touch, yet we learn by experience to judge <>r the real niagnitude in many cases by sight. We learn by experience to judge of the distance of a body from the eye, within certain limits ; and from its dis- tance and apparent magnitude taken together, we learn to judge of its real magnitude. And this kind of judgment, by being repeated every hour, and almost every minute, of our lives, becomes, when we are grown up, so ready and so habitual, that it very much resem- bles the original perceptions of our senses, and may not improperly be called acquired perception. Whether we call it judgment or acquired perception is a verbal difference. But it is evident, that, by means of it, we often discover by one sense thine^s which are * Tlie whole confusion and difficulty in this matter arise from not de- termining^ Avhat is the true object in visual perception. This is not any distant thing, hut merely the rays of lio-ht in immediate relatibn to the orphan. We therefore sec a different object at every movement, by which a different complement of rays is reflected to the eye. The things from which these rays arc reflected are not, in truth, perceived at all ; and to conceive them as objects of perception is, therefore, erroneous, and produc- tive of error. — H. ' REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OV IDEAS. 139 properly and naturally the objects of another. Thus ' I can say without impropriety, I hear a drum, I hear a great bell, or I hear a small bell ; though it is certain that the figure or size of the sounding body is not originally an object of hearing. In like manner, we learn by experience how a body of such a real magni- tude, and at such a distance, appears t(^ the eye : but neither its real magnitude, nor its distance from the eye, is properly an object of sights any more than the form of a drum, or the size of a bell, is properly an ob- ject of hearing. If these things be considered, it will appear that Mr. ' Hume's argument has no force to support his conclu- sion, nay, that it leads to a contrary conclusion. The argument is this: — The table we see seems to diminish as we remove farther from it ; that is, its avpareni mag- nitude is diminished; but the real table suffers no alter- ation, to wit, in its real magnitude ; therefore it is not the real table we see. I admit both the premises in this syllogism, but I deny the conclusion. The syllo- gism has what the logicians call two middle terms : apparent magnitude is the middle term in the first pre- mise ; real magnitude in the second. Therefore, accord- ing to the rules of logic, the conclusion is not justly drawn from the premises. But, laying aside the rules of logic, let us examine it by the light of common sense. Let us suppose, for a moment, that it is the real table we see. Must not this real table seem to dimin- ish as we remove farther from it ? It is demonstrable that it must. How, then, can this apparent diminution be an argument that it is not the real table? When that which must happen to the real table, as we remove farther from it, does actually happen to the table we see, it is absurd to conclude from this that it is not the real table we see. It is evident, therefore, that this ingenious author has imposed upon himself by con- founding real magnitude with apparent magnitude, and that his argument is a mere sophism. Thus I have considered every argument I have found advanced to prove the existence of ideas, or images of 140 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. * external things, in the mind : and if no better arguments can be found, I cannot help thinking that the whole history of philosophy has never furnished an instance of an opinion so unanimously entertained by philoso- phers upon so slight grounds. CHAPTER VII. OF SENSATION. I. The Names of many of our Sensations Ambiguous,] Having finished what I intend, with regard to that act of mind which we call the perception of an external ob- ject, I proceed to consider another, v/hich, by our con- stitution, is conjoined with perception, and not with perception only, but with many other acts of our minds ; and that is sensation. Sensation is a name given by philosophers to an act of mind, which may be distinguished from all others by this, that it has no object distinct from itself^ Pain of every kind is an vmeasy sensation. When I am pained, I cannot say that the pain I feel is one thing, and that my feeling it is another thing. They are one and the same thing, and cannot be disjoined even in imagina- tion. Pain, when it is not felt, has no existence. It can be neither greater or less in degree or duration, nor any thing else in kind, than it is felt to be. It cannot exist by itself, nor in any subject but a sentient being. No quality of an inanimate, insentient being can have the least resemblance to it. Almost all our perceptions have corresponding sensa- tions which constantly accompany them, and, on that * But sensation, in the language of philosophers, has been generally employed to denote the whole process of sensitive cognition, includ- ing perception proper and sensation proper. On this distinction, see Note D*. — H. OF SENSATION PROPER. 141 account, are very apt to be confounded with them. Neither ought we to expect that the sensation and its corresponding perception should be distinguished in common language, because the purposes of common life do not require it. Language is made to serve the purposes of ordinary conversation ; and we have no rea- son to expect that it should make distinctions that are not of com.mon use. Hence it happens, that a quality perceived^ and the sensatioii corresponding to that per- ception, often go under the same name. This makes the names of most of our sensations am- biguous, and this ambiguity has very much perplexed philosophers. It will be necessary to give some in- stances, to illustrate the distinction between our sensa- tions and the objects of perception. When I smell a rose, there is in this operation both sensation and perception. The agreeable odor I feel, considered by itself, without relation to any external object, is merely a sensation. It affects the mind in a certain way ; and this affection of the mind may be conceived, without a thought of the rose, or any other object. This sensation can be nothing else than it is felt to be. Its very essence consists in being felt ; and when it is not felt, it is not. There is no difference be- tween the sensation and the feeling of it ; they are one and the same thing. It is for this reason that we be- fore observed, that in sensation there is no object dis' tinct from that act of the mind by which it is felt ; and this holds true with regard to all sensations. Let us next attend to the perception which we have in smelling a rose. Perception has always an external object ; and the object of my perception, in this case, is that quality in the rose which I discern by the sense of smell. Observing that the agreeable sensation is raised when the rose is near, and ceases when it is removed, I am led by my nature to conclude somic quality to be in the rose which is the caiise of this sensation. This quality in the rose is the object perceived ; and that act of my mind by which Lhave the conviction and belief of this quality, is what in this case I call perception. 142 SENSATION AND P RRCEP'PTON. But it is here to be observed, that the serisatioD I feel, and the quality in the rose which I perceive, are both called by the same name. The smell of a rose is the name given to both : so that this name has two mean- ings ; and the distinguishing its different meanings re- moves all perplexity, and enables us to give clear and distinct answers to questions about which philosophers have held m.uch dispute.* Thus, if it is asked whether the smell be in the rose, or in the mind that feels it, the answer is obvious; — that there are two different things signified by the smell of a rose; one of v/hich is in the mind^ and can be in nothing but in a sentient being ; the other is truly and properly in the rose. The sensation which I feel is in m.y mind. The mind is the sentient being; and as the rose is insentient, there can be no sensation, nor any thing resembling sensation, in it. But this sensation in my mind is occasioned by a certain quality in the rose, which is called by the same name with the sensa- tion, not on account of any similitude^ but because of their constant concomitance , All the names we have for smells, tastes, sounds, and for the various degrees of heat and cold, have a like ambiguity ; and what has been said of the smell of a rose may be applied to them. They signify both a sen- sation and a quality perceived by means of that sensa- tion. The first is the sign, the last the thing signified. As both are conjoined by nature, and as the purposes of common life do not require them to be disjoined in our thoughts, they are both expressed by the same name ; and this ambiguity is to be found in all lan- guages, because the reason of it extends to all. ** In reference to this and the following paragraphs, I may observe, that the distinction of suhjectlve and objective qualities, here vaguely attempted, liad been aU'cady precisely accomplished by Aristotle, in his discrimination of 7raBrjTiK.aX TVOLor-qres [ijualltates patihiles) and TrdOrj (passiones). In re- gard to the Cartesian distinction, which is equally precise, but of which lieid is unaware, it will suffice to say that tliey called color, as a sensation in the mind, formal color; color, as a quality in bodies capable of pro ducing the sensation, primiiive or radical coloi-. — 11. OF SENS.ATfO.V PROPEn. 143 The same ambiguity is found in the names of such diseases as are indicated by a particular painful sensa- tion, such as the toothache or the headache. The tooth- ache signifies a painful sensation, which can only be in a sentient being ; but it signifies also a disorder in the body, which has no similitude to a sensation, but is naturally connected with it. Pressing my hand with force against the table, I feel pain, and I feel the table to be hard. The pain is a sen- sation of the mind, and there is nothing that resembles it in the table. The hardness is in the table, nor is there any thing resembling it in the mnnd. Feeling is applied to both, but in a different sense ; being a word common to the act of sensation, and to that of perceiving by the sense of touch. I touch the table gently with my hand, and I feel it to be smooth, hard, and cold. These are qualities of the table perceived by touch ; but I perceive them by means of a sensation which indicates them. This sen- sation not being painful, I commonly give no attention to it. It carries my thought immediately to the thing signifi.ed by it, and is itself forgot, as if it had never been. But by repeating it, and turning my attention to it, and abstracting my thought from the thing signi- fied by it, I find it to be merely a sensation, and that it has no similitude to the hardness, smoothness, or cold- ness of the table which is signified by it. It is indeed difficult, at first, to disjoin things in our attention which have always been conjoined, and to make that an object of reflection which never was so before ; but some pains and practice will overcome this difficulty in those who have got the habit of reflecting on the operations of their own minds. Although the present subject leads us only to con- sider the sensations which we have by means of our external senses, yet it will serve to illustrate what has been said, and I apprehend is of importance in itself, to observe, that many operations of mind, to w^hich we give one name, and which we always consider as one thing, are complex in their nature, and made up of sev- 144 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. ^ eral more simple ingredients ; and of these ingredients sensation very often makes one. Of this we shall give some instances. The appetite of iiunger includes an "uneasy sensation, and a desire of food. Sensation and desire are different acts of mind. The last, from its nature, must have an object; the first has no object These two ingredients may always be separated in thought ; perhaps they sometimes are, in reality ; but hunger includes both. Benevolence towards our fellow-creatures includes an agreeable feeling ; but it includes also a desire of the happiness of others. The ancients commonly called it desire. Many moderns choose rather to call it a feeling. Both are right ; and they only err who exclude either of the ingredients. Whether these two ingredients are necessarily connected is perhaps difficult for us to de- termine, there being many necessary connections which we do not perceive to be necessary ; but we can dis- join them in thought. They are different acts of the mind. An uneasy feeling, and a desire, are in like manner the ingredients of malevolent affections ; such as malice, env}^, revenge. The passion of fear includes an uneasy sensation or feeling, and an opinion of danger ; and hope is made up of the contrary ingredients. When' we hear of a heroic action, the sentiment which it raises in our mind is made up of various ingredients. There is in it an agreeable feeling, a benevolent affection to the person, and a judgment or opinion of his merit. If we thus analyze the various operations of our minds, we shall find that many of them which we con- sider as perfectly simple, because we have been accus- tomed to call them by one name, are compounded of more simple ingredients; and that sensation, oy feelings which is only a more refined kind of sensation^ makes one ingredient, not only in the perception of external objects, but in most operations of the mind. 11. Variety and Distrihiition of our Seiisations.] A small degree of reflection may satisfy us, that the num- f OF SENSATION PIlOrER. 145 Kj' * ber and variety of our sensations and feelings are pr digious. For, to omit all those which accompany our appetites, passions, and affections, our moral sentiments, and sentiments of taste, even our external senses furnish a great variety of sensations differing in kind, and al- most in every kind an endless variety of degrees. Every variety we discern, vv^ith regard to taste, smxcU, sound, color, heat and cold, and in the tangible qualities of bodies, is indicated by a sensation corresponding to it. The rhost general and the most important division of our sensations and feelins^s is into the asrreeable. the disagreeable^ and the indifferent. Every thing we call pleasure, happiness, or enjoyment, on the one hand, and, on the other, every thing we call misery, pain, or un- easiness, is sensation or feeling. For no man can for the present be more happy, or more miserable, than he feels himself to be. He cannot be deceived with regard to the enjoyment or suffering of the present moment. But I apprehend, that, besides the sensations that are either agreeable or disagreeable, there is still a greater * It has been commonly held by philosophers, both in ancient and mod- ern times, that the division of the senses into five is altogether inadequate ; and psychologists, though not at one in regard to the distribution, are now generally agreed, that under touch — oy feeling in the strictest signification of the term — are comprised perceptions which are, at least, as well entitled to be opposed in species as those of taste and smell. — H. Mill says, — "A sense of something on the skin, and perhaps also on the interior parts of tlie body, taken purely by itself, seems alone the feeling of touch.'''' It is " the feeling which we have when something, without being seen, comes gently into contact with our skin, in such a way that we can- not say whether it is hard or soft, rough or smooth, or what figure it is, or of what size." To these he adds as distinct sensations, though commonly reckoned under the head of touch, — the sensations of heat and cold, resem- bling the ordinary sensations of touch in nothing but this, that the organ of them is diffused over the whole body; sensations of disorganization^ or of the approach to disorganization^ in any part of the body, as in lacerations, burnings, internal inflammations, itchings, &c. ; muscular sensations.^ or those feelings which accompany the action of the muscles, necessary to our idea of resistance, and manifesting themselves confusedly in a sense of fatigue or of restlessness ; and, finally, sensations in the alimentaiy caiial, such as hunger, sea-sickness, the exhilarating effects of opium, the sense of wretch- edness attending indigestion, and the like. Analysis of the Phenomena of the Human Mind, Chap. I. Sect. V. - VIII. Compare Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, Sect. XXI. -XXIV., and Tissot, Anthropologies F'"^ Partie, Lib. I. Sect. III. U • — Ed. 13 146 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. number that are indifFercDt.* To these we giye so lit- tle attention, that they have no name, and are imme- diately forgot, as if they had never been ; and it requires attention to the operations of our minds to be convinced of their existence. For this end, we may observe, that to a good ear every human voice is distinguishable from all others. Some voices are pleasant, some disagreeable; but the far greater part can be said to be neither the one nor the other. The same thing may be said of other sounds, and no less of tastes, smells, and colors ; and if we con- sider that our senses are in continual exercise while we are awake, that some sensation attends every object they present to us, and that familiar objects seldom raise any emotion, pleasant or painful, we shall see reason, besides the agreeable and disagreeable, to ad- mit a third class of sensations, that may be called indif- ferent. The sensations that are indifferent are far from being useless. They serve as signs to distinguish things that differ ; and the information we have concerning things external comes by their means. Thus, if a man had no ear to receive pleasure from the harmony or melody of sounds, he v/oald still find the sense of hearing of great utility. Though sounds gave him neither pleasure nor pain of themselves, they would give him much useful information ; and the like may be said of the sensations we have by all the other senses. As to the sensations and feelings that are agreeable or disagreeable, they differ much, not only in degree, but in kind and in dignity. Some belong to the animal part of our nature, and are common to us with the' brutes. Others belong to the rational and moral part. The first are more properly called sensations, the last feeling's. The French word sentiment is common to both.f * This is a point in dispute tinionj:^ pliilosopbcrs. — H. t Some French philosopliers, since Rcid, liavc attempted the distinction of senti/iCeht and scnsrth'on. - II. OF SENSATION PROPER. 147 The intention of nature in them is for the most part 'obvious, and well deserving our notice. It has been beautifully illustrated by a very elegant French writer, in his Theorie des Sentiments Arry cognition, l)ut in every cognition they are always in the iuA^erse ratio of each other. In perception and the primary qualities, the objective ele- ment preponderates ; whereas the subjective element preponderates in sen- sation and the secondary qualities. — -H. 152 SP^.NSATION AND PERCEPTION. lidity of a body means no more than that it excludes other bodies from occupying the same place at the same time. Hardness, softness, and fluidity are differ- ent degrees of cohesion in the parts of a body. It is fluid when it has no sensible cohesion, soft when the cohesion is weak, and hard when it is strong. Of the cause of this cohesion we are ignorant, but the thing itself we understand perfectly, being immediately in- formed of it by the sense of touch. It is evident, there- fore, that of the primary qualities we have a clear and distinct notion; we know what they are, though we may be ignorant of their causes. I observe, further, that the notion we have of pri- mary qualities is direct^ and not relative only. A rel- ative notion of a thing is, strictly speaking, no notion of a thing at all, but only of some relation which it bears to something else. Thus gravity sometimes signifies the tendency of bodies towards the earth ; sometimes it signifies the cause, of that tendency. When it means the first, I have a direct and distinct notion of gravity: I see it, and feel it, and know perfectly what it is ; but this ten- dency must have a cause. We give the same name to the cause ; and that cause has been an object of thought and of speculation. Now what notion have we of this cause when we think and reason about it ? It is evident we think of it as an unknown cause of a known effect. This is a relative notion, and it must be obscure, be- cause it gives us no conception of what the thing is, but of what relation it bears to something else. Every relation which a thing unknown bears to something that is known may give a relative notion of it; and there are many objects of thought, and of discourse, of which our faculties can give no better than a relative notion. Having premised these things to explain what is meant by a relative notion, it is evident that our notion of primary qualities is not of this kind ; we know what they are, and not barely what relation they bear to somethincf else. OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 153 It is otherwise with secondary qualities. If you ask me, what is that quality or modification in a rose which I call its smell, I am at a loss to answer directly. Up- on reflection, I lind that I have a distinct notion of the sensation which it produces in my mind. But there can be nothing like to this sensation in the rose, be- cause it is insentient. The quality in the rose is some- thing which occasions the sensation in me ; but what that something is, I know not. My senses give me no information upon this point. The only notion, there- fore, my senses give is this, that smell in the rose is an unknown quality or modification, which is the cause or occasion of a sensation which I know well. The relation which this unknown quality bears to the sen- sation with which nature has connected it, is all I learn from the sense of smelling ; but this is evidently a rel- ative notion. The same reasoning will apply to every secondary quality. Thus I think it appears that there is a real foun- dation for the distinction of primary from secondary qualities, and that they are distinguished by this : that of the primary we have by our senses a direct and dis- tinct notion; but of the secondary only a relative no- tion, which must, because it is only relative, be obscure ; they are conceived only as the unknown causes or occasions of certain sensations with which we are well acquainted. * II. Remarks on the Distinction hetiveen Prim art/ and Secondary Qualities,] The account I have given of this distinction is founded upon no hypothesis. Whether our notions of primary qualities are direct and distinct, those of the secondary relative and obscure, is a matter of fact, of which every man may have certain knowl- edge by attentive reflection upon them. To this reflec- tion I appeal, as the proper test of what has been ad- vanced, and proceed to make some remarks on the subject. 1. The primary qualities are neither sensations^ nor are they resemblances of sensations. This appears to 154 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. me self-evident. I have a clear and distinct notion of each of the^ primary qualities. I have a clear and dis- tinct notion of sensation. I can compare the one with the other; and when I do so, I am not able to discern a resembling featm'e. Sensation is the act, or the feel- ing, (I dispute not which,) of a sentient being. Figure, divisibility, solidity, are neither acts nor feelings. Sen- sation supposes a sentient being as its subject; for a sensation that is not felt by some sentient being is an absurdity. Figure and divisibility suppose a subject that is figured and divisible, but not a subject that is sentient. 2, We have no reason to think that the sensations by which we have notice of secondary qualities resemble any quality of body. The absurdity of this notion has been clearly shown by Descartes, Locke, and many modern philosophers. It was a tenet of the ancient philosophy, and is still by many imputed to the vulgar, but' only as a vulgar error. It is tot) evident to need proof, that the vibrations of a sounding body do not resemble the sensation of sound, nor the effluvia of an odorous body the sensation of smell. 3. The distinctness of our notions of primary qualities prevents all questions and disputes about their nature. There are no different opinions about the nature of ex- tension, figure, or niotion, or the nature of any primary quality. Their nature is manifest to our senses, and cannot be unknown to any man, or mistaken by him, though their causes may admit of dispute. The primary qualities are the objects of the mathe-- matical sciences ; and the distinctness of our notions of them enables us to reason demonstratively about them to a great extent. Their various modifications are precisely defined in the imagination, and thereby capable of being compared, and their relations deter- mined with precision and certainty. It is not so with secondary qualities. Their nature, not being manifest to the sense, may be a subject of dispute. Our feeling informs us that the fire is hot ; but it does not inform us wh;^that heat of the fire is. OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 155 But does it not appear a contradiction to say we know that the fire is hot. but w^e know not what that heat is ? I answer, There is the same appearance of contradic- tion in many things, that must be granted. We know that wine has an inebriating quality ; but we know not what that quality is. It is true, indeed, that, if we had not some notion of what is meant by the heat of fire, and by an inebriating quality, we could ai&m nothing of either with undera^tanding. We have a notion of both; but it is only a relative notion. We know that they are the causes of certain known effects. 4. The nature of secondary qualities is a proper ^wb- ject oi philosophical disquisition ; and in this philosophy has made some progress. It has been discovered, that the sensation of smell is occasioned by the effluvia of bodies ; that of sound by their vibration. The dispo- sition of bodies to reflect a particular kind of light occasions the sensation of color. Very curious dis- coveries have been made of the nature of heat, and an ample field of discovery in these subjects remains. 5. We may see why the sensations belonging to sec- ondary qualities are an object of our attention^ while those which belong to the primary are not. The first are not only signs of the object perceived, but they bear a capital part in the notion we form of it. We conceive it only as that which occasions such a sensation, aiid therefore cannot reflect upon it with- out thinking of the sensation which it occasions: we have no other mark whereby to distinguish it. The thought of a secondary quality, therefore, always carries us back to the sensation which it produces. We give the same name to both, and are apt to confound them together. But having a clear and distinct conception of primary qualities, we have no need when we think of them to recall their sensations. When a primary quality is perceived, the sensation immediately leads our thought to the quality signified by it, and is itself forgot. We have no occasion afterwards to reflect upon it; and so we come to be as little acquainted with it as if we had never felt it. This is the case 156 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. with the sensations of all primary qualities, when they are not so painful or pleasant as to draw our attention. When a man moves his hand rudely against a point- ed hard body, he feels pain, and may easily be per- suaded that this pain is a sensation, and that there is nothing resembling it in the hard body ; at the same time he perceives the body to be hard and pointed, and he knows that these qualities belong to the body only. In this case, it is easy to distinguish what he feels from what he perceives. Let him again touch the pointed body gently, so as to give him no pain ; and now you can hardly persuade him that he feels any thing but the figure and hardness of the body ; so difficult it is to attend to the sensations belonging to primary qualities, when they are neither pleasant nor painful. They carry the thought to the* external object, and im- mediately disappear and are forgot. Nature intended them only as signs ; and when they have served that purpose, they vanish. 6. We are now to consider a supposed contradiction between the vulgar and the philosophers upon this subject. As to the former, it is not to be expected that they should make distinctions which have no connec- tion with the common affairs of life ; they do not, there- fore, distinguish the primary from the secondary qual- ities, but speak of both as being equally qualities of the external object. Of the primary qualities they have a distinct notion, as they are immediately and distinctly perceived by the senses ; of the secondary, their notions, as I apprehend, are confused and indistinct, rather than erroneous. A secondary quality is the unknown cause or occasion of a well-known effect; and the same name is common to the cause and the effect. Now, to distinguish clearly the different ingredients of a com- plex notion, and, at the same time, the different mean- ings of an ambiguous word, is the work of a philoso- pher ; and is not to be expected of the vulgar, when their occasions do not require it. I grant, therefore, that the notion which the vulgar have of secondary qualities is indistinct and inaccu- OF THE OBJECTS OF PEIlCEFTIOx'V. 157 rate. But there seems to be a contradiction between the vulgar and the philosopher upon this subject, and each charges the other with a gross absurdity. The vulgar say, that fire is hot, and snow cold, and sugar sweet ; and that to deny this is a gross absurdity, and contra- dicts the testimony of our senses. The philosopher says, that heat and cold and sweetness are nothing but sensations in our minds ; and it is absurd to con- ceive that these sensations are in the fire, or in the snow, or in the sugar. I believe this contradiction between the vulgar and the philosopher is more apparent than real; and that it is owing to an abuse of language on the part of the philosopher, and to indistinct notions on the part of the vulgar. The philosopher says, there is no heat in the fire, meaning that the fire has not the sensation of heat. His m.eaning is just; and the vulgar will agree with him, as soon as they understand his meaning: but his language is improper ; for there is really a quality in the fire, of which the proper name is heat; and the name of heat is given to this quality^ both by philoso- phers and by the vulgar, much more frequently than to the sensation of heat. This speech of the philosopher, therefore, is meant by him in one sense ; it is taken by the vulgar in another sense. In the sense in which they take it, it is indeed absurd, and so they hold it to be. In the sense in which he means it, it is true; and the vulgar, as soon as they are made to understand that sense, will acknowledge it to be true. They know as well as the philosopher, that the fire does not feel heat; and this is all that he means,. by saying there is no heat in the fire.* * On the subject of Primary and Secondary Qualities, compare Stewart. Pliilosophical Essays, Essay II. Chap. II. Sect. II. Royer-Collard, Frag- ments^ in Jouffroy's (Euvres de Reid, Tome III. p. 426 et seq. Gamier, Critique de la Philosophie de Thomas Reid, p. 73 et seq. Remusat, Essais de PhilosopJiie, Essai IX. Brown, Philosophy of the Human Mind, Lcct. XXV. Sir W. Hamilton, in his Supplementary Dissertations, Note D. Hamilton divides the qualities of body or matter into primary, secundo- primary, and secondary. Starting with the simple datum, body considered as substance occupying 14 158 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION* III. Other Objects of Perception. (2.) Local Affec* tions in our oiun Bodies.] Besides primary and secon- dary qualities of bodies, there are many other immedi- ate objects of perception. Without pretending to a complete enumeration, I think they mostly fall under one or other of the following classes: — Firsts Certain states or conditions of our own bodies. Second^ Me- chanical powers or forces. Thirds Chemical powers. Fonrth^ Medical powers or virtues. Fifths Vegetable and animal powers. That we perceive certain disorders in our own bodies by means of uneasy sensations, which nature has con- joined with them, will not be disputed. Of this kind are toothache, headache, gout, and every distemper and hurt which we feel. The notions which our sense gives of these have a strong analogy to our notions of secondary qualities. Both are similarly compounded, and may be similarly resolved, and they give light to each other. In the toothache, for instance, there is, first^ a .pain- space, he deduces a priori^ as necessary to the very conception, its primary qualities, which are the following : — 1. Extension ; 2. Divisibility; 3. Size : 4. Density, or Earity; 5. Eigure ; 6. Incompressibility absolute ; 7. Mo- bility; 8. Situation. The secundo-primary qualities are modifications, but cordiiigent modifica- tions, of the primary. They Suppose the primary, but the primary do not suppose them, and hence they are not conceived by us 2^^ necessary proper- ties of matter. They are the following, with their various modihcations : — 1. Gravity; 2. Cohesion; 3. Inertia; 4. Repulsion. The secondary qualities, as manifested to us, are not, in propriety, quali- ties of body at all. "As apprehended, they are," he says, " only subjective affections, and belong to bodies in so far only as tliese arc supposed fur- nished with the powers capable of specifically determining the various parts of our nervous apjfaratus to the peculiar action, or rather passion, of which they are susceptible: which determined action or passion is the quality of which alone we are immediately cognizant, the external con- cause of that internal effect remaining to perception altogether unknown." He adds : — "Of the secondary qualities, in this relation, there are various kinds ; the variety principally depending on the differences of the different parts of our nervous apparatus. Such are the proper sensiblcs, the idio- pathic affections of our several organs of sense, as color, sound, flavor, savor, and tactual sensation ; such are the feelings from heat, electricity galvanism, &c.; nor need it be added, such are the muscular and cutaneous sensations which accompany the perception of the secundo-primary quali- ties. . Such, though less directly the result of foreign causes, are titillation, sneezing, horripihition, shuddering, the feeling of what is called se<"ting OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 159 ful feeling ; and, secondly^ a conception and belief of some disorder in the tooth, which is believed to be the cause of the uneasy feeling. The first of these is a sensation, the second is a perception ; * for it includes a conception and belief of an external object. But these two things, though of different natures, are so constantly conjoined in our experience and in our im- agination, that we consider them as one. We give the same name to both ; for the toothache is the proper name of the pain we feel ; and it is the proper name of the disorder in the tooth which causes that pain. If it should be made a question, whether the toothache be in the mind that feels it, or in the tooth that is affected, nmch might be said on both sides, while it is not ob- served that the word has two meanings. But a little reflection satisfies us, that the pain is in the mind, and the disorder in the tooth. If some philosopher should pretend to have made a discovery, that the toothache, the gout, the headache, are only sensations in the mind, and that it is a vulgar error to conceive that they are the-teeth-on-edge, &c., &c. ; such, in fine, are all the various sensations of bodily pleasure and pain determined by the action of external stimuli." To mark the difference between the three classes of qualities, he ob- serves: — " The primary^ being thought as essential to the notion of body, are distinguished from the secundo-primary and secondary as occidental; while the primary and secimdo-primary, being thought as vianifest or con- ceivable in their own nature^ are distinguished from the secondary as in their own nature occult and inconceivable.^^ And asrain : — " Usino^ the terms strictly, the apprehensions of the primary are perceptions, not sensations ; of the secondanj^ sensations, not perceptions : of the secundo-p>rimary, per- ceptions a?2(i sensations together." Still further: — ''In the apprehension of the /)n'7?2 a?;?/ qualities, the mind is primarily and principally ac^/re ; it feels only as it knows [because it only feels, i. e. is conscious, that it knows]/ In that of the secondary, the mind is prim. arily and principally passive; it knows only as it feels [because it only knows, i. e. is conscious, that it feels]. In that of the secundo-pjrimary, the mind is equally and at once active and passive; in one respect it feels as it knows, in another, it knows as it feels." To illustrate the last statement he adduces the ex- ample of the secundo-primary quality of hardness, a modification of co- hesion ; which consists of two parts, — pressure, which is felt in the subject, fvnd resistance, which is perceived to belong to the object. — Ed. * There is no such "perception," properly so called. The cognition is merely an inference from the feeling ; and its object, at least, only some hypothetical representation of a really ignotum quid. Here the sub- jective element preponderates so greatly as almost to extinguish the objective. — H. 160 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. distempers of the body, he might defend his system in the same manner as those who affirm that there is no sound nor color nor taste in bodies defend that para- dox. But both these systems, like most paradoxes, will be found to be only an abuse of words. We say that we feel the toothache, not that we per- ceive it. On the other hand, we say that we perceive the color of a body, not that we feel it. Can any rea- son be given for this difference of phraseology? In answer to this question, I apprehend, that, both when we feel the toothache and when we see a colored body, there is sensation and perception conjoined. But in the toothache, the sensation, being very painful, en- grosses the attention ; and therefore we speak of it as if it were felt only, and not perceived : whereas, in seeing a colored body, the sensation is indifferent, and draws no attention. The quality in the body which we call its color is the only object of attention; and therefore we speak of it as if it were perceived, and not felt. Though all philosophers agree that in seeing color there is sensation, it is not easy to persuade the vulgar, that, in seeing a colored body, when the light is not too strong, nor the eye inflamed, they have any sensa- tion or feeling at all. There are some sensations, which, though they are very often felt, are never attended to, nor reflected upon. We have no conception of them ; and there- - fore, in language, there is neither any name for them, nor any form of speech that supposes their existence. Such are the sensations of color, and of all primary qualities ; and therefore those qualities are said to be perceived, but not to be felt. Taste and smell, and heat and cold, have sensations that are often agreeable or disagreeable, in such a degree as to draw our atten- tion ; and they are sometimes said to be felt, and some- times to be perceived. When disorders of the body occasion very acute pain, the uneasy sensation en grosses the attention, and they are said to be felt, not to be perceived.* * As already repeatedly observed, the o/j/eci^/re element (perception) and OF. THE OBJECTS OF PKRCEPTIOiV. 161 There is another question relating to phraseology, which this subject suggests. A man says, he feels pain in such a particular part of his body, — in his toe, for instance. Now, reason assures us, that pain, being a sensation, can only be in the sentient being as its sub- ject, that is, in the mind. And though philosophers have disputed much about the place of the mind, yet none of them ever placed it in the toe.* What shall we say, then, in this case? Do our senses really de- ceive us, and make us believe a thing which our reason determines to be impossible ? I answer, firsts that, when a man says he has a pain in his toe, he is per- fectly understood, both by himself and those who hear him. This is all that he intends. He really feels what he and all men call a pain in the toe ; and there is no deception in the matter. Whether, therefore, there be any impropriety in the phrase or not, is of no conse- quence in common life. It answers all the ends of speech, both to the speaker and the hearers. In all languages, there are phrases which have a dis- tinct meaning ; while, at the same time, there may be something in the structure of them that disagrees with the analogy of grammar, or with the principles of phi- losophy. And the reason is, because language is not made either by grammarians or philosophers. Thus we speak of feeling pain, as if pain was something dis- tinct from the feeling of it. We speak of a pain com- ing and going, and removing from one place to another. Such phrases are meant by those who use them in a the siihjecti've element (feeling, sensation) are always in the inverse ratio of each other. This is a law of which Reicl and the pliilosophers were not aware. — H. * Not in the toe exclusively/. But, hoth in ancient and modern times, the opinion has been held that the mind has as much a local presence in the toe as in the head. The doctrine, indeed, long generally maintained was, that, in relation to the body, the soul is all in the luhole, and all in every part. On the question of the seat of the soul, which has been marvellously per- plexed, I cannot enter. I shall only say, in general, that the first condition of the possibility of an immediate, intuitive, or real perception of external things, which our consciousness assures that we possess, is the immediate connection of the cognitive principle with every part of the corooreal organism. — H. 14* 162 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. sense that is neither obscure nor false. But the phi- losopher puts them into his alembic, reduces them to their first principles, draws out of them a sense that was never meant, and so imagines that he has discov- ered an error of the vulgar. I observe, secondly^ that, when we consider the sen- sation of pain by itself, without any respect to its cause, we cannot say with propriety that the toe is either the place or the subject of it. But it ought to be remem- bered, that, when we speak of pain in the toe, the sen- sation is combined in our thought with the cause of it, w^hich really is in the toe. The cause and the effect are combined Jn one complex notion, and the same name serves for both. It is the business of the philos- opher to analyze this complex notion, and to give dif- ferent names to its different ingredients. He gives the name of pain to the sensation only, and the name of disorder to the unknown cause of it. Then it is evi- dent that the disorder only is in the toe, and that it would be an error to think that the pain is in it. But we ought not to ascribe this error to the vulgar, who never made the distinction, and who under the name of pain comprehend both the sensation and its cause.* Cases sometimes happen, which give occasion even to the vulgar to distinguish the painful sensation from the disorder which is the cause of it. A man who has had his leg cut off, many years after feels pain in a toe of that leg. The toe has now no existence ; and he perceives easily, that the toe can neither be the place nor the subject of the pain which he feels : yet it is the same feeling he used to have from a hurt in the toe ; and if he did not know that his leg was cut off, it would give him the same immediate conviction of some hurt or disorder in the toe.f * That the pain is where it is felt is, however, the doctrine of common sense. We only feel inasmuch as we have a body and a soul; we only feel pain in the toe inasmuch as we have such a member, and inasmuch as the mind, or sentient principle, pervades it. We just as much feel in the toe as we think in the head. If (but only if) the latter be a vitium suhrep- tionis, as Kant thinks, so is the former. — H. j" This illustration is J^cscartes's. If correct, it only shows that the con- OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. ~ 163 The same phenomenon may lead the philosopher, in all cases, to distinguish sensation from perception. We say, that the man had a deceitful feeling, when he felt a pain in his toe after the leg was cut off; and we have a true meaning in saying so. But, if we will speak accurately, our sensations cannot be deceitful; they must be what we feel them to be, and can be nothing else. Where, then, lies the deceit ? I answer, it lies not in the sensation, which is real, but in the seeming' perception he had of a disorder in his toe. This perception, which nature had conjoined with the sensation, was in this instance fallacious. The same reasoning may be applied to every phe- nomenon that can, with propriety, be called a decep- tion of sense. As when one who has the jaundice sees a body yellow which is really white ; or when a man sees an object double, because his eyes are not both directed to it; in these, and other like cases, the sensations we have are real, and the deception is only in the perception which nature has annexed to them. Nature has connected our perception of external ob- jects with certain sensations. If the sensation is pro- duced, the corresponding perception follows even when there is no object, and in this case is apt to deceive us. In like manner, nature has connected our sensations with certain impressions that are made upon the nerves and brain : and, when the impression is made, from whatever cause, the corresponding sensation and per- ception immediately follow. Thus, in the. man who feels pain in his toe after the leg is cut off, the nerve that went to the toe, part of wjiich was cut off with the leg, had the same impression made upon the re- maining part, which, in the natural state of his body, was caused by a hurt in the toe : and immediately this nection of mind with organization extends from the centre to the circum- ference of the nervous system, and is not limited to any part. — H. Mailer makes the fact, as stated in the text, incontestable. Physiology y Vol. I. p. 745. — Ed. ' 164 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. _ impression is followed by the sensation and perception which nature connected with it.* * This is 11 doctrine wliicli cannot be reconciled with that of an intuition or objective perception. All here is subjective. — H. "* In his Supplementary Dissertations^ Note D, § 2. Sir W. Hamilton returns to this example, modifying somewhat the view he had previously enter- tained : — " Take, f )r instance, a man whose leg has been amputated. If now two nervous filaments be irritated, the one of w^hich ran to his great, Xh^ other to his little toe, he will experience two pains, as in these two members. ISTor is there, in propriety, any deception in such sensations. For his toes, as all his members, are his only as they are to him sentient, as endowed with nerves and distinct nerves. The nerves thus constitute alone the ivhole sentient organism. In these circumstances, the peculiar nerves of the several toes, running isolated from centre to periphery, and thus remaining, though curtailed in length, unmutilatedjn function, will, if irritated at any point, continue to manifest their original sensations ; and these being now, as heretofore, manifested out of each other^ must afford the condition of a perceived extension.^ not less real than that which they afforded prior to the amputation. " The hypothesis of an extended sensorium commune^ or complex ner- vous centre, the mind being supposed in proximate connection with each of its constituent nervous terminations or origins, may thus be reconciled to the doctrine of natural realism. " It is, however, I think, more philosophical to consider the nervous system as one whole, with each part of which the animating principle is equally and immediately connected, so long as each part remains in con- tinuity with the centre. As to the question of materialism, this doctrine is indifferent. For the connection of an unextended with an extended substance is equally incomprehensible, whether we contract the place of union to a central point, or whether we leave it coextensive with organiza- tion." Several authorities are referred to in support of tliis view, a.mong which are the following: — St. Gregory of Nyssa, De Horn. Opif.^ cc. 12, 14, 15; Tiedemann, Psychologie., p. 309 et seq. ; Berard, Des Rapports da Phys. et du Mor.. Chap. I. § 2 ; R. G. Cams, Vorles. iieh. Psychologies passim ; Um- hvQit, Psychologic, c. I., and Beilage, passim; F. Fischer, Ueb. d. Sitz d. Seele^ passim. This theory is also supposed to be in accordance with the doctrine of Aristotle, De Anima, Lib. I. Cap. IX. § 4, " that the soul con- tains the body, rather than the body the soul " ; — a doctrine on which was founded the common dogma of the schoolmen, " that the soul is all in the whole body, and all in every of its parts," meaning thereb}^ that the simple, unextended mind, in some inconceivable manner present to all the organs, is percipient of the peculiar affection which each is adapted to receive, and actuates each in the peculiar function which it is qualified to dis- charge. Still the common doctrine, as well with psychologists as with physiolo- gists, would seem to be, that the brain is the sole organ of the mind, and that the mind is peculiarly ^ if not exclusively, present to that organ, by means of which it feels as well as thinks. Compare Descartes, Les Pas- sions de rAme, Partie I. Art. XXX. et seq. ; Hartley's Observations on Man^ Part I. Chap. I. Sect. I.; Haller's First Lines of Physiology, Chap. X. § 372 : Gall's Functions of the Brain, Sect I. ; Broussais, De VTrritation et OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTIOI^.^ 165 In like manner, if the same impressions which are made at present upon my optic nerves by the objects before me could be made in the dark, I apprehend that I should have the same sensations, and see the same objects which I now see. The impressions and sensa- tions would in such a case be real, and the perception only fallacious. IV. (3.) Poiuers of Bodies.] Let us next consider the notions which our senses give us of those attributes of bodies called poivers. This is the more necessary, because power seems to imply some activity ; yet we consider body as a dead, inactive thing, which does not act, but may be acted upon. Of the mechanical powers ascribed to bodies, that which is called their vis insita^ or vis iiiertice, may first be considered. By this is meant no more than that bodies never change their state of themselves, either from rest to motion, or from motion to rest, or from one degree of velocity, or one direction, to another. In order to produce any, such change, there must be some force im- pressed upon them ; and the change produced is pre- cisely proportioned to the force impressed, and in the direction of that force. That all bodies have this property is a matter of fact, which we learn from daily observation, as well as from the most accurate experiments. Nov/ it seems plain, that this does not imply any activity in body, but rather the contrary. A power in body to change its state would much rather imply activity than its continuing in the same state : so that, although this property of bodies is called their vis insita, or vis inertice^ it implies no proper activity. If we consider, next, the power of gravity, it is a fact, that all the bodies of our planetary system gravi- de la Folie, Partie I. Chap. VI. ; Tissot, Anthropologie, Partie II. Chap. Y. ; Mailer's Physiology, Vol. I. p. 816 et seq. Most of them hold, that it is only by experience and association of ideas that we are led to refer the pain which we feel in the brain to the part of the body where the cause of the pain exists. — Ed. 166 SENSATION AND PERCEFTTON. tate towards each other. This has been fully proved by the great Newton. But this gravitation is not con- ceived by that philosopher to be a power inherent in bodies, which they exert of themselves, but a force im- pressed upon them, to which they must necessarily yield. Whether this force be impressed by some sub- tile ether, or whether it be impressed by the power of the Supreme Being, or of some subordinate spiritual being, we do not know ; but all sound natural philoso- phy, particularly that of Newton, supposes it to be an impressed force, and not inherent in bodies.* So that, when bodies gravitate, they do not properly act, but are acted upon. They only yield to an impres- sion that is made upon them. It is common in lan- guage to express, by active verbs, many changes in things, wherein they are merely passive. And this way of speaking is used chiefly ivheyi the cause of the change is not obvious to sense. Thus we say that a ship sails, when every man of common sense knows that she has no inherent power of motion, and is only driven by wind and tide. In like manner, when we say that the planets gravitate towards the sun, we mean no more than that, by some unknown power, they are drawn or impelled in that direction. "What has been said of the power of gravitation may be applied to other mechanical powers, such as cohesion, magnetism, electricity, and no less to chemi- cal and medical powers. By all these, certain effects are produced, upon the application of one body to an- other. Our senses discover the effect ; but the power is latent. We know there must be a cause of the effect, and we form a relative notion of it from its effect ; and very often the same name is used to signify the unknown cause and the known effect. We ascribe to vegetables the powers of drawing nourishment, growing, and multiplying their kind. Here, likewise, the effect is manifest, but the cause is * That all activity supposes an immaterial or spiritual agent is an ancient doctrine. It is, however, only an hypothesis. — H. OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 167 latent to sense. These powers, therefore, as well as all the other powers we ascribe to bodies, are unknown causes of certain known effects. It is the business of philosophy to investigate the nature of those powers as far as we are ?tble, but our senses leave us in the dark. V. Manifest and Occult Qualities.] We may ob- serve a great similarity in the notions which our senses . give us of secondary qualities^ of the disorders ive feel in our oivn bodies^ and of the various poiuers of bodies , which we have enumerated. (1.) They are all obscure and relative notions, being a conception of some un- known cause of a known effect. (2.) Their names are, , for the most part, common to the effect and to its cause. And (3.) they are a proper subject of philo- sophical disquisition. They might, therefore, I think, not improperly be called occidt qualities. This name, indeed, has fallen into disgrace since the time of Descartes. It is said to have been used by the Peripatetics to cloak their ignorance, and to stop all inquiry into the nature of those qualities called occult. Be it so. Let those answer for this abuse of the word who were guilty of it. To call a thing occult, if we attend to the meaning of the word, is rather modestly to confess ignorance than to cloak it. It is to point it out as a proper subject for the investigation of philoso- phers, whose proper business it is to better the con- dition of humanity by discovering what was before hid from human knowledge. Were I, therefore, to make a division of the qualities of bodies as they appear to our senses, I would divide them first into those that are munifest^ and those that are occult The manifest qualities are those which Mr. Locke calls primary ; such as extension, figure, divisi- bility, motion, hardness, softness, fluidity. The nature of these is manifest even to sense ; and the business of the philosopher with regard to them is not to find out their nature^ which is well known, but to discover the effects produced by their various combinations ; and, with regard to those of them which are not essential to. mat- ter, to discover their causes as far as he is able. 168 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. The second class consists of occult qualities, which may be subdivided into various kinds; ^^^ firsts the sec- ondary qualities ; secondly^ the disorders ive feel in our own bodies ; and, thirdly^ all the qualities which we call powers of bodies^ whether mechanical, chemical, medi- cal, animal, or vegetable; or if there be any other powers not comprehended under these heads. Of all these the existence is manifest to sense, but the 7iature is occult ; and here the philosopher has an ample field. "What is necessary for the conduct of our animal life, the bountiful Author of nature has made manifest to all men. But there are many other choice secrets of nature, the discovery of which enlarges the power and exalts the state of man. These are left to be discov- ered by the proper use of our rational powers. They are hid, not that they may be always concealed from human knowledge, but that we may be excited to search for them. This is the proper business of a phi- losopher, and it is the glory of a man, and the best reward of his labor, to discover what nature has thus concealed. CHAPTER IX. OF MATTER AND SPACE. I. Origin and Characteristics of our Notion of Body^ or Material Substance,] The objects of sense we have hitherto considered are qualities. But qualities must have a subject. We give the names oi matter, matei'ial substance, and body to the subject of sensible quali- ties : and it may be asked what this matter is. I perceive in a billiard-ball, figure, color, and motion; but the ball is not figure, nor is it color, nor motion, nor all these taken together ; it is something that has figure, and color, and motion. This is a dictate of na- ture, and the belief of all mankind. MATTER AND SPACE. 169 As to the nature of this something, I am afraid we can give little account of it bat that it has the qualities which our senses discover. But how do we know that they are qualities, and cannot exist without a subject? I confess I cannot explain how we know that they cannot exist without a subject, any more than I can explain how w^e know that they exist. We have the information of nature for their existence ; and I think we have the informa- tion of nature that they are qualities. The belief that figure, motion, and color are quali- ties, and require a subject, must either be a judgment of nature, or it must be discovered by reason, or it must be a prejudice that has no just foundation. There are philosophers who maintain that it is a mere preju- dice ; that a body is nothing but a collection of tvhal ive call sensible qualities; and that they neither have nor need any subject. This is the opinion of Bishop Berkeley and Mr. Hume ; and they were led to it by finding that they had not in their minds any idea of substance. It could neither be an idea of sensation nor of reflection, the only sources of original and simple ideas which they recognized. But to me nothing seems more absurd than that there should be extension with- out any thing extended, or motion without any thing moved ; yet I cannot give reasons for my opinion, be- cause it seems to me self-evident, and an immediate dictate of my nature. And that it is the belief of all mankind appears in the structure of all languages; in which we find adjec- tive nouns used to express sensible qualities. It is well known that every adjective in language must belong to some substantive expressed or understood ; that is, every quality must belong to some subject. Sensible qualities make so great a part of the furni- ture of our minds, their kinds are so many and their number so great, that if prejudice, and not nature, teach us to ascribe them all to a subject, it must have a great work to perform, which cannot be accomplished in a short time, nor carried on to the same pitch in every io 170 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. individual. We should find, not individuals only, but nations and ages differing from each other in the progress which this prejudice had made in their senti- ments ; but we jfind no such difference among men. What one man accounts a quality, all men do, and ever did. It seems, therefore, to be a judgment of nature, that the things immediately perceived are qualities, which must belong to a subject; and all the information that our senses give us about this subject is, that it is that to which such qualities belong. From this it is evident, that our notion of body or matter, as distinguished from its qualities, is a relative notion ; * and I am afraid it must always be obscure until men have other fac- ulties. The philosopher in this seems to have no advantage above the vulgar ; for as they perceive color and figure and motion by their senses as well as he does, and both are equally certain that there is a subject of those qual- ities, so the notions which both have of this subject are equally obscure. When the philosopher calls it a sub- stratum.) and a subject of inhesion, those learned words conveys no meaning but what every man understands and expresses by saying in common language that it is a thing extended, and solid, and movable. The relation w^hich sensible qualities bear to their subject, that is, to body, is not, however, so dark but that it is easily distinguished from all other relations. Every man can distinguish it from the relation of an * That is, our notion of ahsolute body is relative. This is incorrectly expressed. We can know, we can conceive, only what is relative. Our knowledge of qualities or phenomena is necessarily relative ; for these exist only as they exist m relation to our faculties. The knowledge, or even the conception, of a substance in itself, and apart from any qualities in relation to, and therefore cognizable or conceivable by, our minds, involves a con- tradiction. Of such we can form only a negative notion ; that is, we can merely conceive it as inconceivable. But to call this negative notion a relative notion is wrong; — 1st, because all our (positive) notions are relative ; and, 2d, because this is itself a negative notion, — i. e. no notion at all, — simply because there is no relation. The same improper application of the term relative was also made by Reid when speaking of the secondary qual- ities. — H. MATTER AND .SPACE. . 171 effect to its cause, of a mean to its end, or of a sign to the thing signified by it. I think it requires some ripeness of understanding to distinguish the qualities of a body from the body. Per- haps this distiiiction is not made by brutes, nor by in- fants ; and if any one thinks that this distinction is not made by our senses, but by some other power of the mind, I will not dispute this point, provided it be grant- ed that men, when their faculties are ripe, have a natu- ral conviction that sensible qualities cannot exist by themselves without some subject to which they belong. I think, indeed, that some of the determinations we form concerning matter cannot be deduced solely from the testimony of sense, but must be referred to some other source. There seems to be nothing more evident, than that all bodies must consist of parts ; and that every part of a body is a body, and a distinct being which may exist without the other parts ; and yet I apprehend this conclusion is not deduced solely from the testimony of sense: for besides that it is a necessary truth, and therefore no object of sense,* there is a limit beyond which we cannot perceive any division of a body. The parts become too small to be perceived by our senses ; but we cannot believe that it becomes then incapable of being further divided, or that such division would make it not to be a body. We carry on the division and subdivision in our thought far beyond the reach of our senses, and we can find no end to it : nay, I think we plainly discern, that there can be no limit beyond which the division cannot be carried. For if there be any limit to this division, one of two things must necessarily happen. Either we have come by division to a body which is extended, but has no parts, * It is creditable to Eeid tliat he perceived that the quality of necessity is the criterion wliich distinouishes native from adventitious notions or judgments. He did not, however, always make the proper use of it. Leibnitz has the honor of first explicitly enouncing this criterion, and Kant, of first fully applying it to the phenomena. In none has Ivant been more successful than in this under consideration. — H. 172 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. and is absolutely indivisible ; or this body is divisible, but as soon as it is divided it becomes no body. Both these positions seem to me absm'd, and one or the other is the necessary consequence of supposing a limit to the divisibility of matter. On the other hand, if it be admitted that the divisibility of matter has no limit, it will follow that no body can be called one individual substance. You may as well call it two, or twenty, or two hundred. For when it is divided into parts, every part is a being or substance distinct from all the other parts, and was so even before the division : any one part may continue to exist, though all the other parts are annihilated. There is, indeed, a principle long received as an axiom in metaphysics, which I cannot reconcile to the divisibility of matter. It is, that every being is one, — Omne ens est ununi. By which, I suppose, is meant, that everv thins: that exists must either be one indivisi- ble being, or composed of a determinate number of indi- visible beings. Thus an army may be divided into regiments, a regiment into companies, and a company into men. But here the division has its limit; for you cannot divide a man without destroying him, because" he is an individual ; and every thing, according to this axiom, must be an individual, or made up of indi- viduals. That this axiom will hold with regard to an army, and with regard to many other things, must be granted : but I require the evidence of its being applicable to all beings whatsoever. Leibnitz, conceiving that all beings must have this metaphysical unity, was by this led to maintain, that matter, and indeed the whole universe, is made up of monads^ that is, simple and indivisible substances. Perhaps the same apprehension might lead Boscovich into his hypothesis, which seems much more ingenious ; to wit, that matter is composed of a definite number of mathematical points^ endowed with certain powers of attraction and repulsion. The divisibility of matter without any limit seems to me more tenable than either of these hypotheses ; nor MATTRR AND SPACE. 173 do I lay much stress upon the metaphysical axiom, considering its origin. Metaphysicians thought proper to make the attributes common to all beings the sub- ject of a science. It must be a matter of some diffi- culty to find out such attributes: and, after racking their invention, they have specified three, to wit, unity^ verity^ and goodness ; aod these, I supp se, have been invented to make a number, rather than from any^clear evidence of their being universal. There are other determinations concerning matter, which, I think, are not solely founded upon the testi- mony of sense ; such as, that it is impossible that two bodies should occupy the same place at the same time, or that the same body should be in different places at the same time, or that a body can be moved from one place to another without passing through the inter- mediate places, either in a straight course or by some circuit. Thcvse appear to be necessary truths, and therefore cannot be conclusions of our senses ; for our senses testify only what is, and not what must necessa- rily be. II. Origin and Characteristics of our Notions of Ex- tension and Space,\ We are next to consider our notion of space. It may be observed, that although space be not perceived by any of our senses when all matter is removed, yet, when we perceive any of the primary qualities, space presents itself as a necessary concom- itant : for there can neither be extension, nor motion, nor figure, nor division, nor cohesion of parts, without space. There are only two of our senses by which the notion of space enters into the mind, — to wit, touch and sight. If we suppose a man to have neither of these senses, I do not see how he could ever have any con- ception of space.* Supposing him to have both, until * According to Reid, extension (space) is a notion a posteriori^ the result of experience. According to Kant, it is a priori ; experience only afford- ing the occasions required by the raind to exert the acts of which the intu- ition of space is a condition. To the former it is thus a contingent^ to the 15' 174 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. he sees or feels other objects, he can have no notion of space. It has neither color nor figure to make it an object of sight; it has no tangible quality to make it an object of touch. But other objects of sight and touch carry the notion of space along ivith them ; and not the notion only, but the belief of it: for a body could not exist if there ivere no spoxe to contain it ; it could not move if there were no space : its situation, its distance, and every relation it has to other bodies, sup- pose space. But though tlie notion of space seems not to enter at first into the mind until it is introduced by the proper objects of sense, yet, being once introduced, it remains in our conception and belief, though the ob- jects which introduced it be removed. We see no absurdity in supposing a body to be annihilated f but the space that contained it remains, and to suppose that annihilated seems to be absurd. It is so much latter, a necessary mental possession. That the notion of space is a neces- sary condition of thought, and that, as siich^ it is impossible to derive it from experience, has been cogently demonstrated by Kant. But that Ave may, through sense, have empirically an immediate perception of sometliing extended^ I have yet seen no valid reason to doubt. The a priori concep- tion does not exclude the a jwsteriori percejotion ; and this latter cannot ])e rejected without belying the evidence of consciousness, which assures us that we are immediately cognizant, not only of a self] but of a not-self] — not only o^ miiid, but of matter ; and matter cannot be immediately known, — that is, known as existing, — except as something extended. In this, however, I venture a step beyond E,eid and Stewart, no less than beyond Kant ; though I am convinced that the philosophy of the two former tended to this conclusion, which is, in fact, that of the common sense of mankind. — H. In his Supplementary Dissertations.^ Note D, § 1, Sir W. Hamilton retracts one of the statements in the preceding note. He says: — "I may take this opportunity of modifying a former statement, that, according to Keid, space is a notion a posteriori^ the result of experience. On reconsidering more carefully his different statements on this subject, I am now inclined to tliink that his language implies no more than the chronological posteri- ority of this notion ; and that he really held it to be a native, necessary, a priori form of thought, requiring only certain prerequisite conditions to call it from virtual into manifest existence. I am confirmed in this view by finding it is also that of M. Royer-Collard. Mr. Stewart is, however, less defensible, when he says, in opposition to Kant's doctrine of space^ — ' I rather lean to the common theory which supposes our first ideas of J- pace or extension to be fanned by other qualities of matter.' Dissertation^ "Notes and Jllustrations^Notc (S s)." — Ed. MATTER AND SPACE. 175 allied to nothing or emptiness, that il seems incapable of annihilation or of creation. Space not only retains a firm hold of onr belief, even when we suppose all the objects that introduced it to be annihilated, but it swells to immensity. We can set no limits to it, either of extent or of duration. Hence we call it immense^ eternal^ immovable^ and indestructible. But it is only an immense, eternal, immovable, and indestructible void or emptiness. Perhaps we may ap- ply to it what the Peripatetics said of their first mat- ter^ — that whatever it is, it is potentially only^ not actually. When we consider parts of space that have measure and figure^ there is nothing we understand better, noth- ing about which we can reason so clearly and to so great extent. Extension and figure are circumscribed parts of space, and are the object of geometry, a sci- ence in which human reason has the most ample field, and can go deeper and with more certainty than in any other. But when we attempt to comprehend the whole of space, and to trace it to its origin, we lose ourselves in the search. The profound speculations of ingenious men upon this subject differ so widely, as may lead us to suspect that the line of human understanding is too short to reach the bottom of it. Bishop Berkeley, I think, was the first who observed that the extension, figure, and space of which we speak in common language, and "of which geometry treats, are originally perceived by the sense of touch only; but that there is a notion of extension, figure, and space which may be got by sight, without any aid from touch. To distinguish these, he calls the first tangible extension, tangible figure, and tangible space ; the last he calls visible. As I think this distinction very important in the phi- losophy of our senses, I shall adopt the names used by the inventor to express it; remembering what has been already observed, that space, whether tangible or vis- ible, is not so properly an object of sense as a necessary concomitant of the objects both of sight and touch. 176 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. The reader may likewise be pleased to attend to this, that when I use the names of tangible and visible space ^ I do not mean to adopt Bishop Berkeley's opinion, so far as to think that they are really different things, and altogether unlike. I take them to be different concep- tions of the same thing ; the one very partial, and the other more complete, but both distinct and just, as far as they reach. ' Thus, when I see a spire at a very great distance, it seems like the point of a bodkin ; there appears no vane at the top, no angles. But when I view the same object at a small distance, I see a huge pyramid of sev- eral angles with a vane on the top. Neither of these appearances is fallacious. Each of them is what it ought to be, and what it must be, from such an object seen at such different distances. These different ap- pearances of the same object may serve to illustrate the different conceptions of space, according as they are drawn from the information of sight alone, or as they are drawn from the additional information of touch. Our sight alone, unaided by touch, gives a very par- tial notion of space, but yet a distinct one.- When it is considered according to this partial notion, I call it visible space. The sense of touch gives a much more complete notion of space; and when it is considered according to this notion, I call it tangible space. Per- haps there may be inteUigent beings of a higher order, whose conceptions of space are much more complete than those we have from both senses. Another sense added to those of sight and touch might, for what I know, give us conceptions of space as different from those we can now attain as tangible space is from vis- ible, and might resolve many knotty points concerning it, which, from the imperfection of our faculties, we cannot by any labor untie.* * On the origin of the notion of space and its relation to that of body, compare Cousin, Elements of Psycholofjy, Chap. II. He makes the distinguishing- characteristics of space to be as follows : — I . Space is given us as necessary^ while body is given as that Avhich MATTER AND SPACE. 177 III. Visible and Tangible Extension.] Berkeley ac- knowledges that there is an exact correspondence be- tween the visible figure and magnitude of objects and the tangible ; and that every modification of the one has a modification of the other corresponding. He acknowledges, likewise, that nature has established such a connection betv/een the visible figure and mag- nitude of an object and the tangible, that we learn by experience to know the tangible figure and magnitude from the visible. And having been accustomed to do so from infancy, v^^e get the habit of doing it with such may or may not exist ; 2. Space is given its as without limits, while body is given as limited on every side ; 3. The idea of space is a pure and wholly rational conception, that is, we cannot bring it np before us under any determinate form or image, while the idea of body is always accompanied with an image, a sensible representation. In tracing these ideas to their origin, he is led to notice two orders of relations among our ideas, which it is important clearly to distinguish in respect not only to space, but to all our a priori conceptions. " Two ideas being given, we may inquire v/hether the one does not sup- pose the other ; whether, the one being admitted, we must not admit the other likewise, or be guilty of a paralogism. This is the logical order of ideas. If we regard the question of the origin of ideas under this point of view, let us see what result it will give in respect to the particular in- quiry before us. The idea of body and the idea of space being given, wldch supposes the other? Which is the logical condition of the admission of the other ? Evidently the idea of space is the logical condition of the admission of the idea of body. In fact, take any body you please, and you cannot admit the idea of it but under the condition of admitting, at the same time, the idea of space : otherwise you would admit a body which was nowhere, which was in no place, and such a body is incon- ceivable. " But this is not the sole order of cognition ; the logical relation does not comprise all the relations which ideas mutually sustain. There is still another, that of anterior or posterior, the order of the relative develop- ment of ideas in time, — their chronological order. And the question or' the origin of ideas may be regarded under this point of view. Now the idea of space, w^e have just seen, is clearly the logiccd condition of all sen- sible experience. Is it also the chronological condition of all experience, and of the idea of body ? I believe no such thing. If we take ideas in the order in which they actually evolve themselves in the intelligence, if we investigate only their history and successive appearance, it is not true that the idea of space is antecedent to the idea of body. Indeed, it is so little true that the idea of space chronologically supposes the idea of body, that, in fact, if you had not the idea of i)ody, you would never have the idea of .space. Take away sensation, take away the sight and touch, and you have no longer any idea of body, and consequently none of space." His conclusion is, that our notion of body is empirical^ — that is to say, derived from experience, or a posteriori; but our notion of space, though 178 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. facility and quickness, that we think we see tangible figure, nriagnitude, and distance of bodies, when, in reality, we only collect those tangible qualities from the corresponding visible qualities, which are natural signs of them. The correspondence and connection which Berkeley shows to be between the visible figure and magnitude of objects and their tangible figure and magnitude, is in some respects very similar to that which we have observed between our sensations and the primary qual- ities with which they are connected.- No sooner is the developed on occasion of experience, is not derived from it, inasmuch as experience does not contain it in any other sense than as, in the view of reason^ it presupposes it. Experience does not give the notion of space to reason, but reason gives it to experience ; and hence it is said to be not empirical, but a necessary and a priori conception of the reason. Others still maintain that the notion of space is wholly empirical, being nothing but one of the sensible qualities of body considered abstractly. Of these psychologists, the ablest, perhaps, is James Mill, who says, — " Concrete terms are connotative terms ; abstract terms are non-connotative terms. Concrete terms, along with a certain quality or qualities, which is their principal meaning, or notation, connote the object to which the quality belongs. Thus the concrete red always means, that is, connotes, something red, as a rose. We have already by sufficient examples seen, that the Abstract formed from the Concrete notes precisely that which is noted by the Concrete, leaving out the co?2notation. Thus, take away the connota- tion from red^ and you have redness ; from hot^ take away the connotation, and you have heat. The very same is the distinction between the concrete extended^ and the abstract extension. What extended is with its connotation, extension is without that connotation." According to him, therefore, the word space^ understood in its most com- prehensive sense, or infinite extension., " is an abstract, differing from its concrete, like other abstracts, by dropping the connotation. Much of the mystery in which the idea has seemed to be involved is owing to this single circumstance, that the abstract term space has not had an appropriate concrete. "We have observed, that in all cases abstract terms can be ex- plained only through their concretes ; because they note or name a part of what the concrete names, leaving out the rest. If we were to make a concrete term, corresponding to the abstract term space., it must be a word equivalent to the terms infinitely extended. From the ideas included under the name infinitely extended., leave out resisting., and you have all that is marked by the abstract space.'''' — Analysis of the Human Mind, Chap. XIV. Sect. IV. See also Kant's Critic of Pure Reason, Part I. Sect. I. ; Fearn's First Lines of the Human Mind, Chap. V.; Whewell's Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, Part I. Book 11. Chap. I. -VI. ; Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, Lect. XXIV.; Ballantyne's Examination of the Human Mind, Chap. I. Sect. I. ; Brook Taylor's Contemplatio Philosophica, p. 45 et seq. ; Hic- kok's Rational Psychology^ Book II. Part I. Chap. I. — Ed. MATTER Ax\D SPACE. 179 sensation felt, than immediately we have the concep- tion and belief of the corresponding quality. We give no attention to the sensation ; it has not a name ; and it is difficult to persuade us that there was any such thing. In like manner, no sooner are the visible figure and magnitude of an object seen, than immediately we have the conception and belief of the corresponding tangible figure and magnitude. We give no attention to the visible figure and magnitude. They are imme- diately forgotten, as if they had never been perceived ; they have no name in common language ; and, indeed, until Berkeley pointed them out as a subject of specu- iation, and gave them a name, they had none among philosophers, excepting in one instance, relating to the heavenly bodies, which are beyond the reach of touch. With regard to them, what Berkeley calls visible mag- nitude was by astronomers called apparent magni- tude. There is surely an apparent magnitude and an ap- parent figure of terrestrial objects, as well as of celes- tial ; and this is what Berkeley calls their visible figure and magnitude. But they were never made an object of thought among philosophers, until that author gave them a name, and observed the correspondence and connection between them and tangible magnitude and figure, and how the mind gets the habit of passing so instantaneously from the visible figure, as a sign, to the tangible figure, as the thing signified by it, that the first is perfectly forgotten, as if it had never been per- ceived. Visible figure, extension, and space may be made a subject of mathematical speculation, as well as the tangible. In the visible, we find two dimensions only ; in the tangible, three. In the one, magnitude is meas- ured by angles ; in the other, by lines. Every part of visible space bears some proportion to the whole ; but tangible space being immense, any part of it bears no proportion to the whole. Such differences in their properties led Bishop Berke- 180 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. ley to think, that visible and tangible magnitude and figure are things totally difTerent and dissimilar, and cannot both belong to the same object. And upon this dissimilitude is grounded one of the strongest argu- ments by which his system is supported. For it may be said, if there be external objects which have a real extension and figure, it must be either tangible exten- sion and figure, or visible^ or both,"^ The last appears absurd; nor was it ever maintained by any man, that the same object has two kinds of extension and figure, totally dissimilar. There is, then, only one of the two really in the object; and the other must be ideal. But no reason can be assigned why the perceptions of one sense should be real, while those of another are onlv ideal ; and he who is persuaded that the objects of sight are ideas only has equal reason to believe so of the objects of touch. This argument, however, loses all its force, if it be true, as was formerly hinted, that visible figure and ex- tension are only a partial conception, and the tangible figure and extension a more complete conception of that figure and extension wiiich are really in the ob- ject. It has been proved very fully by Bishop Berkeley, that sight alone, without any aid from the informations of touch, gives us no perception, nor even conception, of the distance of any object from the eye. But he was not aware that this very principle overturns the argument for his system, taken from the difference be- tween visible and tangible extension and figure : for, supposing external objects to exist, and to have that tangible extension and figure which we perceive, it fol- lows demonstrably, from the principle now mentioned, that their visible extension and figure must be just what we see them to be. The rules of perspective, and of the projection of the sphere, which is a branch of * Or neither. And this omitted supposition is the true. For neither sight nor touch gives us fall and accurate information in regard to the real extension and figure of objects. — II. OF THE EVIDENCE OF SENSE. 181 ptrfspective, are demonstrable. They suppose the ex- istence of external objects, which have a tangible ex- tension and figure ; and, upon that supposition, they demonstrate what must be the visible extension and figure of such objects, when placed in such a position and at such a distance. Hence it is evident, that the visible figure and exten- sion of objects are so far from being incompatible with the tangible, that the first are a necessary consequence from the last, to beings that see as we do. The corre- spondence between them is not arbitrary, like that be- tween words and the things they signify, as Berkeley thought, but it results necessarily from the nature of the two senses ; and this correspondence, being always found in experience to be exactly what the rules of per- spective show that it ought to be if the senses give true information^ is an argument for the truth of both. CHAPTER X. OF THE EVIDENCE OF SENSE, AND OF BELIEF IN GENERAL. I. On Belief in general^ and the Different Kinds of Evidence?^ Beliefs assent, conviction, are words which I think do not admit of logical definition, because the operation of mind signified by them is perfectly simple, and of its own kind. Nor do they need to be defined, because they are common words, and well understood. Belief must have an object. For he that believes must believe something; and that which he believes is called the object of his belief. Of this object of his belief, he must have some conception, clear or obscure ; for although there may be the most clear and distinct conception of an object without any belief of its exist- ence, there can be no belief without conception. Belief is always expressed in language by a propo- 16 182 SENSATION ANB PERCEPTION. sition, wherein something is affirmed or denied. This is the form of speech which in all languages is appro- priated to that purpose, and without belief there could be neither affirmation nor denial, nor should we have any form of words to express either. Belief admits of all degrees, from the slightest suspicion to the fullest assurance. These things are so evident to every man that reflects, that it would be abusing the reader's pa- tience to dwell upon them. I proceed to observe, that there are many operations of mind in which, when we analyze them as far as we are able, we find belief to be ian essential ingredient. A man cannot be conscious of his own thoughts, with- out believing that he thinks. He cannot perceive an object of sense, without believing that it exists.* He cannot distinctly remember a past event, without be- lieving that it did exist. Belief, therefore, is an ingre- dient in consciousness^ in perception^ and in remem- brance. * Mr. Stewart, Elements^ Part I. Chap. III., and Essays, II. Chap. IL, proposes a supplement to this doctrine of Rcid, in order to explain why we believe in the existence of the qualities of external objects when they are not the objects of our perception. This belief he holds to be the result of experience, in combination with an original principle of our constitution, whereby we are determined to believe in the permanence of the laws of nature. Mr. Stewart's words are : — "It has always appeared to me, that some- thing of this sort was necessary to complete Dr. Rcid's speculations on the Berkeleian controversy ; for, although he has shown our notions con- cerning the primary qualities of bodies to be connected, by an original law of our constitution, v/ith the sensations which they excite in our minds, he has taken no notice of the grounds of our belief that these qualities have an existence independent of our perceptions. This belief (as I have elsewhere observed) is plainly the result of experience ; inasmuch as a repetition of the perceptive act must have been piior to any judgment, on our part, with respect to the separate" and permanent reality of its object. Nor does experience alFord a complete solution of the problem; for, as we are irresistibly led by our perceptions to ascribe to their objects a future^ as well as a present, realit3s the question still remains, how are we deter- mined by the experience of the past to carry our inferences forward to a portion of time which is yet to come. To myself, the difliculty appears to resolve itself, in the simplest and most philosophical manner, into that law of our constitution to which Turgot, long ago, attempted to trace it, — Into our belief of the continuance of ' the laws of nature'; or, in other words, into an expectation that, in the same combination of circumstances, the same event will recur." — Ed. OF TFIK EVIDENCE OF SENSE. 183 Not only in most of oiir intellectual operations, but in many of the active principles of the liuman mind, belief enters as an ingredient. Joy and sorrow, hope and fear, imply a belief of good or ill, either present or in expectation. Esteem, gratitude, pity, and resent- ment imply a belief of certain qualities in their objects. In every action that is done for an end, there must be a belief of its tendency to that end. So large a share has belief in our intellectual operations, in our active principles, and in our- actions themselves, that, as faith in things divine is represented as the mainspring in the life of a Christian, so belief in general is the main- spring in the life of a man. That men often believe what there is no just ground to believe, and thereby are led into hurtful errors, is too evident to be denied : and, on the other hand, that there are just grounds of belief can as little be doubted by any man who is not a perfect skeptic. We give the name of evidence to whatever is a ground of belief. To believe without evidence is a weakness which every man is concerned to avoid, and which every man wishes to avoid. Nor is it in a man's power to believe any thing longer than he thinks he has evidence. What this evidence is, is more easily felt than de- scribed. Those who never reflected upon its nature feel its influence in governing their belief. It is the business of the logician to explain its nature, and to distinguish its various kinds and degrees ; but every man of understanding can judge of it, and commonly judges right, when the evidence is fairly laid before him, and his mind is free from prejudice. A man w4io knows nothing of the theory of vision may have a good eye ; and a man who never speculated about evidence in the abstract may have a good judgment. The common occasions of life lead us to distinguish evidence into different kinds, to which we give names that are well understood; such as the evidence of sense, the evidence of meinory^ the evidence of consciousness , the evidence of testimony, the evidence of axioms^ the 184 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. evidence of reasoning. All men of common under- standing agree, that each of these kinds of evidence may afford just ground of belief, and they agree very generally in the circumstances that strengthen or v^eak- en them. Philosophers have endeavoured, by analyzing the different sorts of evidence, to find out some common nature wherein they all agree, and thereby to reduce them all to one. This was the aim of the schoolmen in their intricate disputes about the criterion of truth, Descartes placed this criterion of truth in clear and dis- tinct perception^ and laid it down as a maxim, that whatever we clearly and distinctly perceive to be true is true ; but it is difficult to know what he understands by clear and distinct perception in this maxim.* Mr. Locke placed it in a perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas, which perception is immedi- ate in intuitive knowledge, and by the ^intervention of other ideas in reasoning. I confess that, although I have, as I think, a distinct notion of the different kinds of evidence above men- tioned, and perhaps of some others, which it is un- necessary here to enumerate, yet I am not able to find any common nature to which they may all be reduced. They seem to me to agree only in this, that they are all fitted by nature to produce hedief in the human mind, — some of them in the highest degree, which we call certainty, others in various degrees according to circum- stances. II. On the Peculiar Nature of the Evidence of Sense,] I shall take it for granted, that the evidence of sense, when the proper circumstances concur, is good evi- dence, and a just ground of belief. My intention in this place is only to compare it with the other kinds that have been mentioned, that we may judge whether * On the purport of this maxim consult Descartes's Principes de la Philosophies Y-^^ Partie, 42-47; Lettres sur les Instances de Gassendi^l^o. 10; and Hp'^e et lyeme Meditations. — Bd. OF THE EVIDENCE OF SENSE. 185 it be reducible to any of them, or of a nature peculiar to itself. 1. It seems to be quite different from the evidence of 7'easoning'. All good evidence is commonly called rea- sonable evidence, and very justly, because it ought to govern our belief as reasonable creatures. And, ac- cording to this meaning, I think the evidence of sense no less reasonable than that of demonstration. If nature give us information of things that concern us by other means than by reasoning, reason itself will direct us to receive that information with thankfulness, and to make the best use of it. But when we speak of the evidence of reasoning as a particular kind of evidence, it means the evidence of propositions that are inferred by reasoning from propositions already known and believed. Thus the evidence of the fifth proposition of the first book of Euclid's Elements con- sists in this, — that it is shown to be the necessary con- sequence of the axioms, and of the preceding proposi- tions. In all reasoning, there must be one or more premises, and a conclusion drawn from them. And the premises are called the reason why we must believe the conclusion which we see to follow from them. That the evidence of sense is of a different kind needs little proof. No man seeks a reason for believ- ing what he sees or feels ; and if he did, it would be difficult to find one. But though he can give no reason for believing his senses, his belief remains as firm as if it were gronnded on demonstration. Many eminent philosophers, thinking it unreason- able to believe when thev could not show a reason, have labored to furnish us with reasons for believins^ our senses ; but their reasons are very insufficient, and will not bear examination. Other philosophers have shown very clearly the fallacy of these reasons, and have, as they imagine, discovered invincible reasons against this belief; but they have never been able either to shake it in themselves, or to convince others. The statesman continues to plod, the soldier to fight, and the merchant to export and import, w^ithout being in 16* 186 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. the least moved by the demonstrations that have been offered of the non-existence of those things about which thej^ are so seriously employed. And a man may as soon, by reasoning, pull the moon out of her orbit, as destroy the belief of the objects of sense. 2. Shall we say, then, that the evidence of sense is the same with that of axioms^ or self-evident truths ? I answer, firsts that all modern philosophers seem to agree, that the existence of the objects of sense is not self-evident, because some of them have endeavoured to prove it by subtile reasoning, others to refute it. Neither of these can consider it as self-evident. Secondly^ I would observe, that the word axiom is taken by philosophers in such a sense, as that the ex- istence of the objects of sense cannot, with propriety, be called an axiom. They give the name of axiom only to self-evident truths that are necessary^ and are not limited to time and place, but must be true at all times and in all places. The truths attested by our senses are not of this kind ; they are contingent^ and limited to time and place. Thus, that one is the half of two, is an axiom. It is equally true at all times and in all places. We perceive, by attending to the proposition itself, that it cannot but be true ; and there- fore it is called an eternal, necessary, and immutable truth. That there is at present a chair on my right hand, and another on my left, is a truth attested by my senses ; but it is not necessary, nor eternal, nor immu- table. It may not be true next minute ; and, therefore, to call it an axiom would, I apprehend, be to deviate from the common use of the word. Thirdly^ If the word axiom be put to signify every trvth tvliich is knoivn immediately, without being de- duced from any antecedent truth, then the existence of the objects of sense may be called an axiom. For my senses give me as immediate conviction of what they testify, as my understanding gives me of what is com- monly called an axiom. 3. There is, no doubt, an analogy between the evi- dence of sense and the evidence of testimony. Hence OF THE EVIDENCE OF SENSE. 187 we find in all languages the analogical expressions of the testimony of sense ^ of givhig credit to our senses, and the like. But there is a real difference between the two, as well as a similitude. In believing upon testimony, we rely upon the authority of a person who testifies : but we have no such authority for believing our senses. 4. Shall we say, then, that this belief is the inspira- tion of the Almightij ? I think this may be said in a good sense ; for I take it to be the immediate effect of our constitution, which is the work of the Almighty. But if inspiration be understood to imply a persuasion of its coming from God, our belief of the objects of sense is not inspiration ; for a man would believe his senses, though he had no notion of a Deity. He who is persuaded that he is the workmanship of God, and that it is a part of his constitution to believe his senses, may think that a good reason to confirm his belief: but he had the belief before he could give this or any other reason for it. 5. If we compare the evidence of sense with that of memory^ we find a great resemblance, but still some difference. I remember distinctly to have dined yester- day with such a company. What is the meaning of. this ? It is, that I have a distinct conception and firm belief of this past event; not by reasoning, not by tes- timony, but immediately from my constitution : and I give the name of memory to that part of my constitu- tion by which I have this kind of conviction of past events. I see a chair on my right hand. What is the meaning of this ? It is, that I have, by my constitu- tion, a distinct conception and firm belief of the present existence of the chair in such a place, and in such a position ; and I give the name of seeing to that part of my constitution by which I have this immediate con- viction. The tw^o operations agree in the immediate conviction which they give. They agree in this also, that the things believed are not necessary, but contin- gent, and limited to time and place. But they differ in two respects : — Firsts that memory has something for l88 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. its object that did exist in time past ; but the object of sight, and of all the senses, must be something which exists at present. And, secondly^ that I see by my eyes, and only when they are directed to the object, and when it is illuminated. But my memory is not limited by any bodily organ that I know, nor by light and darkness, though it has its limitations of another kind.* 6. As to the opinion, that evidence consists in a per- ception of the agreement or disagreement of ideas, we may have occasion to consider it more particularly in another place. Here I only observe, that, when taken in the most favorable sense, it may be applied with propriety to the evidence of reasoning, and to the evi- dence of some axioms. , But I cannot see how, in any sense, it can be applied to the evidence of consciousness^ to the evidence of memory^ or to that of the senses. When I compare the different kinds of evidence above mentioned, I confess, after all,. that the evidence of reasoning, and that of some necessary and self- evident truths, seem to be the least mysterious and the most perfectly comprehended ; and therefore I do not think it strange that philosophers should have endeav- oured to reduce all kinds of evidence to these. When I see a proposition to be self-evident and necessary, and that the subject is plainly included in the predicate, there seems to be nothing more that I can desire, in order to understand why 1 believe it. And when I see a consequence that necessarily follows from one or more self-evident propositions, I want noth- ing more with regard to my belief of that consequence. The light of truth so fills my mind in these cases, that I can neither conceive nor desire any thing more satis- fying. On the other hand, when I remember distinctly a * There is a more important difFerence than these omitted. In memory, we cannot possibly be conscious, or immediately cognizant, of any object beyond the modifications of the ego itself In perception Jf an immediate perception be allowed) we must be conscious, or immediately cognizant, of some phenomenon of the non-ecjo. — H. [IMPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES. 189 past event, or see an object before my eyes, this com- mands my belief no less than an axiom. But when, as a philosopher, I reflect upon this belief, and want to trace it to its origin, I am not able to resolve it into necessary and self-evident axioms, or conclusions that are necessarily consequent upon them. I seem to want that evidence which I can best comprehend, and which gives perfect satisfaction to an inquisitive mind ; yet it is ridiculous to doubt, and I find it is not in my power.* CHAPTER XI. OF THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES. I. In luhat Respects our Senses are and are not Im- provable,] Our senses may be considered in two views ; first, as they afford us agreeable sensations, or subject us to such as are disagreeable ; and, secondly, as they give us information of things that concern us. In the first view, they neither require nor admit of improvement. Both the painful and the agreeable sen- sations of our external senses are given by nature for certain ends ; and they are .given in that degree which is the most proper for their end. By diminishing or increasing them, we should not mend, but mar, the work of nature. Bodily pains are indications of some disorder or hurt * If an immediate knowledge of external things — that is, a conscious- ness of the qualities of the non-ego — be admitted, the belief of their ex- istence follows of course. On this supposition, therefore, such a belief would not be unaccountable ; for it would be accounted for by the fact of the knowledge in which it would necessarily be contained. Our belief, in this case, of the existence of external objects, would not be more inexpli- cable than our belief that 2 -f- 2= 4. In both cases it would be sufficient to say, We believe because lue know ; for belief is only unaccountable when it is not the consequent or concomitant of knowledge. By this, however, I do not, of course, mean to say that knowledjre is not in itself marvellous and unaccountable. — H. 190 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. of the boclv, and admonitions to use the best means in our power to prevent or remove their causes. As far as this can be done by temperance, exercise, regimen, or the skill of the physician, every man has sufficient in- ducement to do it. When pain cannot be prevented or removed, it is greatly alleviated by patience and fortitude of mind. While the mind is superior to pain, the man is not un- happy, though he may be exercised. It leaves no sting behind it, but rather matter of triumph and agreeable reflection, when borne properly, and in a good cause. The Canadians have taught us, that even savages may acquire a superiority to the most excruciating pains ; and, in every region of the earth, instances will be found where a sense of duty, of honor, or even of worldly interest, has triumphed over it. It is evident, that nature intended for man, in his present state, a life of labor and toil, wherein he may be occasionally exposed to pain and danger : an,d the happiest man is not he^vho has felt least of those evils, but he whose mind is fitted to bear them by real mag- nanimity. Our active and perceptive poiuers are improved and perfected by use and exercise. This is the constitution of nature. But, with regard to the agreeable and dis- agreeable sensations we have by our senses, the very contrary is an established constitution of nature : the frequent repetition of them vjeakens their force. Sen- sations at first very disagreeable by use become tolera-, ble, and at last perfectly indifferent. And those thati are at first very agreeable by frequent repetition become insipid, and at last perhaps give disgust. Nature has set limits to the pleasures of sense, which we cannot pass ; and all studied gratification of them, as it is mean] and unworthy of a man, so it is foolish and fruitless. The man who, in eating and drinking, and in other] gratifications of sense, obeys the calls of nature, with- out affecting delicacies and refinements, has all the en- joyment that the senses can afford. If one could, by soft and luxurious life, acquire a more delicate sensi- IMPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES^. 191 bility to pleasure, it must be at the expense of a like sensibility to pain, from which he can never prorajse exemption ; and at the expense of cherishing many diseases which produce pain. The improvement of our external senses, as they are the means of giving us information, is a subject more worthy of our attention : for although they are not the noblest and most exalted powers of our nature, yet they are not the least useful. All that we know or can know of the material world must be grounded upon their information ; and the philosopher, as well as the day-laborer, must be indebted to them for the largest part of his know^ledge. II. Original and Acquired Perceptions,] Some of our perceptions by the senses may be called original, be- cause they require no previous experience or learning ; but the far greater part are acquired, and the fruit of experience. Three of our senses — to wit, smell, taste, and hear- ing — originally give us only certain sensations, and a conviction that these sensations are occasioned by some external object. We give a name to that quality of the object by which it is fitted to produce such a sen- sation, and connect that quality with the object and with its other qualities. Thus we learn, that a certain sensation of smell is produced by a rose ; and that quality in the rose, by which it is fitted to produce this sensation, we call the smell of the rose. Here it is evident that the sensation is original. The perception, that the rose has that quality which we call its smell, is acquired. In like manner, we learn all those qualities in bodies which we ^call their smell, their taste, their sound. These are all secondary qualities, and we give the same name to them which we give to the sensations they produce ; not from any similitude between the sensation and the quality of the same name, but because the quality is signified to us by the sensation as its sign, and because our senses give us no other knowledge of the quality than that it is fit to produce such a sensation. 192 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. By the other two senses, we have much more ample information. By sights we learn to distinguish objects by their color, in the same manner as by their sound, taste, and smell. By this sense, we perceive visible objects to have extension in two dimensions, to have visible figure and magnitude, and a certain angular dis- tance from one another. These, I conceive, are the original perceptions of sight.* By touchy we not only perceive the temperature of bodies as to heat and cold,f which are secondary quali- ties, but we perceive originally their three dimensions, their tangible figure and magnitude, their linear dis- tance from one another, their hardness, softness, or fluidity. These qualities we originally perceive by touch only ; but, by experience, we learn to perceive all or most of them by sight. We learn to perceive, by one sense, what originally could have been perceived only by another, by finding a connection between the objects of the different senses. Hence the original perceptions, or the sensations, of one sense, become signs of whatever has always been found connected with them ; and from the sign the * In another connection, speaking of the perceptions of sight, Sir W. Hamilton has said: — "It is incorrect to say that 'we see the object,' (meaning the thing from which the rays come by emanation or reflection, hut ichich is unknown and incognizable by sights) and. so forth. It would be more correct to describe vision, — a perception, by which we take imme- diate cognizance of light in relation to our organ, — that is, as diffused and figured upon the retina, under various modifications of degree and kind, (brightness and color,) — and likewise as falling on it in a particular direction. The image on the retina is not itself an object of visual per- ception. It is only to be regarded as the complement of those points, or of that sensitive surface, on which the rays impinge, and with which they enter into relation. The total object of visual perception is thus neither the rays in themselves, nor the organ in itself, but the rays and the living organ in reciprocity : this organ is not, however, to be viewed as merely the retina, but as the whole tract of nervous fibre pertaining to the sense. In an act of vision, as also in the other sensitive acts, I am thus conscious^ (the word should not be restricted to se//'-consciousness,) or immediately cognizant, not only of the affections of self, but of the phenomena of something different from self, both, however, always in relation to each other." -—Ed. t Whether heat, cold, &c., be objects of touch, or of a different sense, has been considered in a former note. — Ed. IMPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES. 193 mind passes immediately to the conception and belief of the tJiin<^ signified: and although the connection in the mind between the sign and the thing signified by- it be the efiect of custom, this custom becomes a second nature, and it is difficult to distinguish it from the original power of perceptio.u. Thus, if a sphere of one uniform color be set before me, I perceive evidently by my eye its spherical figure and its three dimensions. All the world will acknowl- edge, that by sight onl};^, without touching it, I may be certain that it is a sphere ; yet it is no less certain, that, by the original power of sight, I could not perceive it to be a sphere, and to have three dimensions. The eye originally could only perceive two dimensions, and a gradual variation of color on the different sides of the object. It is experience that teaches me that the variation of color is an effect of spherical convexity^ and of the distribution of light and shade. But so rapid is the progress of the thought from the effect to the cause, that we attend only to the last, and can hardly be persuaded that we do not immediately see the three dimensions of the sphere. Nay, it ma)^ be observed, that, in this case, the acquired perception in a manner effaces the original one ; for the sphere is seen to be of one uniform color ^ though originally there would have appeared a gradual variation of color : but that apparent variation we learn to interpret as the efTect of light and shade falling upon a sphere of one uniform color. A sphere may be painted upon a plane, so exactly as to be taken for a real sphere, when the eye is at a proper distance, and in the proper point of view. We say in this case, that the eye is deceived, that the ap- pearance is fallacious ; but there is no fallacy in the original perception, but only in that wdiich is acquired by custom. The variation of color exhibited to the eye by the painter's art is the same which nature ex- hibits by the diflerent degrees of light falling upon the convex surface of a sphere. In perception, whether original or acquired, there is 17 194 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. something which may be called the sign, and somethhig which is signified to us, or brought to our knowledge, by that sign. In original perception, the signs are the various sen- sations which are produced by the impressions made upon our organs. The things signified are the objects perceived in consequence of those sensations, by the original constitution of our nature. Thus, when I grasp an ivory ball in my hand, I have a certain sensation of touch. Although this sensation be in the mind, and have no similitude to any thing material, yet, by the laws of my constitution, it is immediately followed by the conception and belief^ that there is in my hand a hard, smooth body, of a spherical figure, and about an inch and a half in diameter. This belief is bounded neither upon reasoning nor upon experience ; it is the immediate effect of my constitution, and this I call original perception. In acquired perception, the sign m.ay be either a sen- sation, or something originally perceived. The thing signified is something which, by experience^ has been found connected with that sign. Thus, when the ivory ball is placed before my eye, I perceive by sight what I before perceived by touch, that the ball is smooth, spherical, of sach a diameter, and at such a distance from the eye ; and to this is added the perception of its color. All these things I perceive by sight distinctly, and with certainty ; yet it is certain, from principles of philosophy, that, if I had not been accustomed to com- pare the informations of sight with those of touch, I should not have perceived these things by sight. I should have perceived a circular object, having its color gradually more faint towards the shaded side. But I should not have perceived it to have three dimensions, to be spherical, to be of such a linear magnitude, and at such a distance from the eye. That these last men- tioned are not original perceptions of sight, but ac- quired by experience, is suificiently evident from the principles of optics, and from the art of painters, in paintii]g objects of three dimensions upon a plane which improvp:ment of 'jue senses. 195 has only two. And it has hevn [)iit beyond all doubt, by obseu'vations recorded of several persons, who, hav- ing, by cataracts in their eyes, been deprived of sight from their infancy, were couched and made to see, after they came to years of understanding.* * The reference on tliis subject is commonly to Clicscldcn 5 though it must be confessed tliat the mode in whicli tlic ciise of tlie young man couched by that distinguished surgeon is reported does not merit all the eulogia that have been lavislied on it. It is at once imperfect and indis- tinct. Thus, on the point in question, Clieselden says : — '■ He (the pa- tient) knew not the shape of any tiling, nor any one tiling from another, however dilfercnt in shape and magnitude: but, upon being told wliat things they were", wliosc form lie before knew fi-om feeling, lie wouhl care- fully observe, that he mialit know them aLrain : but. hiivin'j;' too mnnv ob- jects to learn at once, lie forgot many of them, nnd (us ho paid) at first he learned to know, and again forgot, a thousand tbings in a day. One par- ticular only, though it may ap])ear trifling, I will relate. I laving often forgotten which was the cat and which the dog, lie was ashamed to ask ; but catching the cat, which he knew by feeling, he was observed to l(M)k at her steadfastly, and then, setting her down, said, ' So puss ! 1 shall know you another time.' " Plere, when Clieselden says that his patient, when recently couched, " knew not the sliape of any tiling, nor any one thing from anotlier;' 'ree, as to irive us a command of all the different ideas in our mind which have a certain relation to each other : so that, when any one of the class occurs to us, we have almost a certainty that it will suggest the rest. Thus, a man who has an ambition to become a punster seldom or never fails in the attainment of his object ; that is, he seldom or never fails in acquiring the power which other men have not, of summoning up, on a particular occasion, a number of words different from each other in meaii- ing, but resembling each other, more or less, in sound." — Ekments^ Part I. Chap. V. Sect. III. — Ed. 292 CONCEPTION, OR SIMPLE APPREHENSION. Though poets, of all artists, make the highest claim to inspiration, yet if we believe Horace, a competent judge, no production in that art can have merit, which has not cost such labor as this in the birth. " Yos O ! Pompilius sanguis, carmen reprehendite quod non Multa dies, et multa litura coercuit, atque Perfectum decies non castigavit ad unguem." The conclusion I would draw from all that has been said upon this subject is, that every thing that is regu- lar in that train of thought which we call fancy or imagination, from the little designs and reveries of chil- dren to the grandest productions of human genius, was originally the offspring- of judgment or taste^ applied with some effort greater or less. What one person composed with art and judgment is imitated by another with great ease. What a man himself at first composed with pains becomes by habit so familiar, as to offer itself spontaneously to his fancy afterwards. But nothing that is regular was ever at first conceived without de- sign, attention, and care. V. Laws or Conditions of Mental Association,] I shall now make a few reflections upon a theory which has been applied to account for this successive train of thought in the mind. It was hinted by Mr. Hobbes, but has drawn more attention since it was distinctly explained by Mr. Hume. That author thinks, that the train of thought in the mind i§ owing to a kind of attraction which ideas have for other ideas that bear certain relations to them. He thinks the complex ideas, which are the common sub- jects of our thoughts and reasoning, are owing to the same cause. The relations which produce this attrac- tion of ideas, he thinks, are these three only, — to wit, causation^ contiguity in time or place^ and similitude. He asserts, that these are the only general principles that unite ideas. And having, in another place, occa- sion to take notice of contrariety as a principle of con- nection among ideas, in order to reconcile this to his ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 293 system, he tells us gravely, that contrariety may per- haps be considered as a mixture of causation and resem- blance» That ideas which have any of these three rela- tions do mutually attract each other, so that, one of them being presented to the fancy, the other is drawn along with it, — this he seems to think an original property of the mind, or rather of the ideas, and there- fore inexplicable.* * The history of the doctrine of association has never yet been at all adequately developed. Some of the most remarkable speculations on this matter are wholly unknown. Mr. Hume says, — "I do not find that any philosopher has attempted to enumerate or class all the principles of asso- ciation 5 a subject, however, that seems to me very worthy of curiosity. To me there appear to be only three principles of connection among ideas : resemblance^ contiguity in time or place, cause and effect." — Essays, Vol. 11. p. 24. Aristotle, and, after him, many other philosophers, had, however, done this, and with even greater success than Hume himself. Aristotle's reduction is to the four following heads : — proximity in time, contiguity in place, resemblance, contrast. This is more correct than Hume's ; for Hume's second head ought to be divided into two ; while our connecting any par- ticular events in the relation of cause and effect is itself the result of their observed proximity in time and contiguity in place ; nay, to custom and this empirical connection (as observed by Reid) does Hume himself en- deavour to reduce the principle of causality altogether. — H. In his Supplementary Dissertations, Note D**, Sir W. Hamilton returns to the subject, reaffirming that all the attempts which have been made un- der the name of Histories of the Association of Ideas are fragmentary contri- butions, and meagre and inaccurate as far as they go. " These inade- quate attempts," he also says, "have been limited to Germany; and in Germany to the treatises of three authors ; for the historical notices on this doctrine, found in the works of other German psychologists, are wholly borrowed from them. I refer to the Geschichte of Hissmann (1777) ; to the Paralipomena and BeiftrcEge of Maass (1787, 1792) ; and to the Vestigia of Goerenz (1791). In England, indeed, we have a chapter in Mr. Cole- ridge's Biographia Lileraria, entitled, On the Law of Association, — its His- tory traced from Aristotle to Hartley ; but this, in so far as it is of any value, is a plagiarism, and a blundering plagiarism, from Maass; — the whole chapter exhibiting, in fact, more mistakes than paragraphs. We may judge of Mr. Coleridge's competence to speak of Aristotle, the great phi- losopher of ancient times, when we find him referring to the De Anima for his speculations on the associative principle ; opposing the De Memoria and Parva Nataralia as distinct works : and attributing to Aquinas what be- longs exclusively and notoriously to the Stagirite. We may judge of his competence to speak of Descartes, the great philosopher of modern times, when telling us, that idea, in the Cartesian philosophy, denotes merely a configuration of the brain ; the term, he adds, being first extended by Locke to denote the immediate object of the mind's attention in conscious- ness Sir James Mackintosh, again, founding on his own research, affirms that Aristotle and his disciples, among whom Vives is specified, confine the application of the law of association ' exclusively to the phenomena 25* 294 CONCEPTION, OR SIMPLE APPREHENSION. First.) I observe with regard to this theory, that, al- though it is true that the thought of any object is apt to lead us to the thought of its cause or effect, of things contiguous to it in time or place, or of things resem- bling it, yet this enumeration of the relations of things which are apt to lead us. from one object to another is very inaccurate. The enumeration is too large upon his own princi- ples ; but it is by far too scanty in reality. Causation, according to his philosophy, implies nothing more than a constant conjunction observed between the cause and the effect, and therefore contiguity must include causa- tion, and his three principles of attraction are reduced to two. But when we take all the three, the enumera- tion is in reality very incomplete. Every relation of things has a tendency^ more or less, to lead the thought, in a thinking mind, from one to the other ; and not only every relation, but every kind of contrariety and opposi- tion* What Mr. Hume says, — that contrariety may perhaps be considered as a mixture " of causation and of recollection^ without any glimpse of a more general operation extending to all the connections of thought and feeling ' ; while the enouncement of a general theory of association, thus denied to the genius of Aristotle, is all. and more than all, accorded to the sagacity of Hobbes. The truth, how- ever, is, that in his whole doctrine upon this subject, name and thing, Hobbes is simply a silent follower of the Stagirite ; inferior to his master in the comprehension and accuracy of his general views, and not superior, even on the special points selected, either to Aristotle or to Vives." — Ed. * Still something may be gained by a judicious classification of the con- ditions and relations on which mental association depends. Dr. Brown, who has bestowed much attention on this subject, reduces the primary laws of association or suggestion to three : resemblance^ contrast, nearness in time or place. These correspond to the four of Aristotle, the third being divisi- ble into two. Again, Dr. Brown thinks that the influence of the three primary laws is modified, in different persons and under different circum- stances, by nine secondary laws. The latter are : — 1. The longer or shorter continuance of the attention which was given to the associated ideas when in connection. 2. Vividness of the coexistent emotions. 3. Frequency of repetition. 4. Lapse of time. 5. The exclusion of all other associations. 6. Original constitutional differences. 7. The state of the mind at the time. 8. The state of tlie body. 9. Professional habits. See his Physiology of the Mind, p. 199, and also his Lectures, Lect. XXXV. -XXXVII. Com- pare Ballantyne's Examination of the Human Mind, Chap. II. ; Mill's Analy- sis, Chap. III. ; and Sir W. Hamilton's Supplementary Dissertations, Note B***.-— Ed. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 295 resemblance," — I can as little comprehend, as if he had said that figm^e may perhaps be considered as a mixture of color and sound. Our thoughts pass easily from the end to the means ; from any truth to the evidence on which it is founded, the consequences that may be drawn from it, or the use that may be made of it. From a part we are easily led to think of the whole, from a subject to its qualities, or from things related to the relation. Such transitions in thinking must have been made thousands of times by every man who thinks and reasons, and thereby become, ^as it were, beaten tracks for the imagination. Not only the relations of objects to each other influ- ence our train of thinking, but the relation they bear to the present temper and disposition of the mind ; their relation to the habits we have acquired, whether moral or intellectual ; to the company we have kept, and to the business in which we have been chiefly employed. The same event will suggest very different reflections to different persons, and to the same person at different times, according as he is in good or bad humor, as he is lively or dull, angry or pleased, melancholy or cheerful. Secondly^ Let us consider how far this attraction of ideas must be resolved into original qualities of human nature. I believe the original principles of the mind, of which we can give no account but that such is our constitu- tion, are more in number than is commonly thought. But we ought not to multiply them without necessity. That trains of thinking, which by frequent repetition have become familiar, should spontaneously offer them- selves to our fancy, seems to require no other original quality but the power of habit* In all rational think- * We can as well explain habit by association, as association by habit. — H. Better even, according to Mr. Stewart, who says: — "The wonderful effect of practice in the formation of habits has been often and justly taken notice of, as one of the most curious circumstances in the human constitu- tion. A mechanical operation, for example, which we at first performed with the utmost difficulty, comes, in time, to be so familiar to us, that we are able to perform it without the smallest danger of mistake j even while 296 CONCEPTION, OR SIMPLE APPREHENSION. ing, and in all rational discourse, whether serious or fa- cetious, the thought must have some relation to what went before. Every man, therefore, from the dawn of reason, must have been accustomed to a train of related objects. These please the understanding, and by custom become like beaten tracks which invite the traveller. As far as it is in our power to give a direction to our thoughts (which it is, undoubtedly, in a great degree), they will be directed by the active principles common to men, — by our appetites, our passions, our affections, our reason, and conscience. And that the trains of thinking in our minds are chiefly governed by these, according as one or another prevails at the time, every man will find in his experience. If the mind is at any time vacant from every passion and desire, there are still some objects that are more acceptable to us than others. The facetious man is pleased with surprising similitudes or contrasts ; the philosopher, with the rela- tions of things that are subservient to reasoning ; the merchant, with what tends to profit; and the politician, with v/hat may mend the state. Nevertheless, I believe we are originally disposed, in iraagination, to pass from any one object of thought to others that are contiguous to it in time or place. This I think may be observed in brutes and in idiots, as well as in children, before any habit can be acquired that might account for it. The sight of an object is apt to e'uggest to the imagination what has been seen or felt in conjunction with it, even when the memory of that conjunction is gone. They expect events in the same Cider and succession in which they happened before ; and by this expectation, their actions and passions, as well as their thoughts, are regulated. A horse takes the attention appears to be completely engaged with other subjects. The trutla /Seems to be, that, in consequence of the association of ideas, the different steps of the process present themselves successively to the thoughts, with- out any recollection on our part, and with a degree of rapidity proportioned to the length of our experience, so as to save us the trouble of hesitation and reflection, by giving us every moment a precise and steady notion of the effect to be produced." — Elements, Part I. Chap. II. — Ed. ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 297 fright at the place where some object frighted him be- fore. We are apt to conclude from this, that he re- members the former accident. But perhaps there is only an association formed in his mind between the place and the passion of fear, without any distinct re- membrance. Mr. Locke has given us a very good chapter upon the association of ideas ; and, by the examples he has given to illustrate this doctrine, I think it appears that very strong associations may be formed at once ; not of ideas to ideas only, but of ideas to passions and emo- tions ; and that strong associations are never formed at once, but when accompanied by some strong passion or emotion. I believe this must also be resolved into the constitution of our nature. It will be allowed by every man, that our happiness or misery in life, that our improvement in any art or science which we profess, and that our improvement in real virtue and goodness, depend in a very great degree on the train of thinking that occupies the mind both in our vacant and in our more serious hours. As far, therefore, as the direction of our thoughts is in our power (and that it is so in a great measure cannot be doubted), it is of the last importance to give them that direction which is most subservient to those valuable purposes. How happy is that mind, in which the light of real knowledge dispels the phantoms of superstition ; in which the belief and reverence of a perfect all-govern- ing Mind casts out all fear but the fear of acting wrong ; in which serenity and cheerfulness, innocence, humanity, and candor, guard the imagination against the entrance of every unhallowed intruder, and invite more amiable and worthier guests to dwell ! * * On the doctrine of mental association the student may consult with advantage, in addition to the works already indicated, Dr. Priestley's Hartlei/s Theory of the Human Mind, on the Principle of the Association of Ideas; with Essays relating to the Subject of it ; Cardaillac, Etudes Element taires de Philosophic, Sect. V.; Systematic Education, Yol. II. Chap. XIII., by Dr. Lant Carpenter. The important subject of casual associations, and their influence on character and happiness, has been treated most fully and satisfactorily by Mr. Stewart, Elements, Part I. Chap. V. — Ed. ESSAY V. OF ABSTRACTION. CHAPTER I. or GENEEAL WORDS. I. The Distinction hetiveen General Words and Proper Names,\ The words we use in language are either general ivords or proper names. Proper names are in- tended to signify one individual only. Such are the names of men, kingdoms, provinces, cities, rivers, and of every other creature of God, or work of man, which we choose to distinguish from all others of the kind by a name appropriated to it. All the other words of lan- guage are general words, not appropriated to signify any one individual thing, but equally related to many. In every language, rude or polished, general words ma.ke the greater part, and proper names the less. Grammarians have reduced all words to eight or nine classes, which are called parts of speech. Of these there is only one — to wit, that of nouns — wherein proper names are found. AH pronouns^ verbs, partici- ples, adverbs, articles, prepositions, conjunctions, and m- terjections are general words. Of nouns, all adjectives are general words, and the greater part of substantives. Every substantive that has a plural number is a general word ; for no proper name can have a plural number, because it signifies only one individual. In all the fif- teen books of Euclid's Elements, there is not one word that is not general ; and the same may be said of many large volumes. OF GENERAL Vv^ORDS. 299 At the same time it must be acknowledged, that all the objects we perceive are individuals. Every object of sense, of memory, or of consciousness is an indi- vidual object. All the good things we enjoy or desire, and all the evils we feel or fear, must come from indi- viduals ; and I think we nmay venture to say, that every creature which God has made, in the heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth, is an individual. II. Wliy General Words are so much 7nore numerous,] How comes it to pass, then, that in all languages general words make the greatest part of the language, and proper names but a very small and inconsiderable part of it? This seemingly strange phenomenon may, I think, be easily accounted for by the following obser- vations. Firsts though there be a few individuals that are ob- vious to the notice of all men, and therefore have proper names in all languages, — such as the sun and moon, the earth and sea, — yet the greatest part of the things to which we think fit to give proper names are local; known perhaps to a village or to a neighbour- hood, but unknown to the greater part of those who speak the same language, and to all the rest of man« kind. The names of such things, being confined to a corner, and having no names answering to them in other languages, are not accounted apart of the language^ any more than the customs of a particular hamlet are accounted part of the law of the nation. Secondly^ it may be observed, that every individual object that falls within our view has various attributes ; I and it is by them that it becomes useful or hurtful to us. We know not the essence of any individual object ; all the knowledge we can attain of it is the knowledge of its attributes, — its quantity, its various qualities, its [various relations to other things, its place, its situation, jand motions. It is by such attributes of things only :hat we can communicate our knowled2:e of them to )thers. By their attributes, our hopes or fears from ABSTRACTION. them are regulated ; and it is only by attention to their attributes that we can make them subservient to our ends ; and therefore we give names to such attributes. Now all attributes must from their nature be ex- pressed b|r general words, and are so expressed in all languages. In the ancient philosophy, attributes in general were called by two names which express their nature. They were called universals^ because they might belong equally to many individuals, and are not confined to one. They were also called predicables^ because whatever is predicated, that is, affirmed or de- nied, of one subject may be of more, and therefore is a universal, and expressed by a general word. A predica- ble, therefore, signifies the same thing as an attribute, with this difference only, that the first is Latin, the last English.* The attributes we find either in the creatures of God, or in the works of men, are common to many individuals. We either find it to be so, or presume it may be so, and give them the same name in every sub- ject to which they belong. There are not only attributes belonging to individual subjects, but there are likewise attributes of attributes, which may be called secondai'y attributes. Most attri- butes are capable of different degrees, and different modifications, which must be expressed by general words. Thus it is an attribute of many bodies to be moved; but motion may be in an endless variety of directions. It may be quick or slow, rectilineal or curvilineal ; it may be equable, or accelerated, or re- tarded. As all attributes, therefore, whether primary or secon- dary, are expressed by general words, it follows, that, in every proposition we express in language, what is affirmed or denied of the subject of the proposition must be expressed by general words. Thirdly^ the same faculties by which we distinguish * They are both Latin, or both English. The only difference is, that the one is of technical, the other of popular application, and that the for- mer expresses as potential what the latter does as actual. — H. OF GENERAL WOUDS. 301 the different attributes belonging to the same subject, and give names to them, enable us likewise to observe, that many subjects agree in certain attributes, while they differ in others. By this means we are enabled to reduce individuals, which are infinite, to a limited num- ber of classes, which are called kinds and sorts ; and, in the scholastic language, genera and species. Observing many individuals to agree in certain attributes, we re- fer them all to one class, and give a name to the class. This name comprehends in its signification, not one at- tribute only, but all the attributes which distinguish that class ; and by affirming this name of any indi- vidual, we affirm it to have all the attributes which characterize the class : thus men, dogs, horses, elephants, are so many different classes of animals. In like man- ner we marshal other substances, vegetable and inani- mate, into classes. Nor is it only substances that we thus form into classes. We do the same with regard to qualities, relations, actions, affections, passions, and all other things. When a class is very large, it is divided into subor- dinate classes in the same manner. The higher class is called a' genus or kind ; the lower, a species or sort of the higher. Sometimes a species is still subdivided into subordinate species ; and this subdivision is carried on as far as is found convenient for the purpose of lan- guage, or for the improvement of knowledge. In this distribution of things into genera and species^ it is evident that the name of the species comprehends more attributes than the name of the genus. The spe- cies comprehends all that is in the genus, and those attributes likewise which distinguish that species from others belonging to the same genus ; and the more sub- divisions we make, the names of the lower become still the more comprehensive in their signification, but the less extensive in their application to individuals. Hence it is an axiom in logic, that, the more exleii- sive any general term is, it is the less comprehensive ; and, on the contrary, the more comprehensive, the less extensive. Thus, in the following series of subordinate 26 302 ABSTRACTIONa general terms, — animal, man, Frenchman, Parisian,— every subsequent term comprehends in its signification all that is in the preceding, and something more ; and every antecedent term extends to more individuals than the subsequent. Such divisions and subdivisions of things into genera and species^ with general names, are not confined to the learned and polished languages ; they are found in those of the rudest tribes of mankind : from which we learn, that the invention and the use of general words, both to signify the attributes of things, and to signify the genera and species of things, is not a subtile inven- tion of philosophers, but an operation w^hich all men perform by the light of common sense. Philosophers may speculate about this operation, and reduce it to canons and aphorisms ; but men of common under- standing, without knowing any thing of the philosophy of it, can put it in practice ; in like manner as they can see objects, and make good use of their eyes, although they, know nothing of the structure of the eye, or of the theory of vision.* * This is well illustrated by Adam Smith in the following passage, taken from the beginning of his Considerations concerning the First Formation of Languages: — " The assignation of particular names to denote particular objects, that is, the institution of nouns substantive, would, probably, be one of the first steps towards the formation of language. Two savages, who had never been taught to speak, but had been bred up remote fi'om the societies of men, would naturally begin to form that language, by which thev would endeavour to make their mutual wants intellio^ible to each other, by uttering certain sounds, whenever they meant to denote certain objects. Those objects only which were most familiar to them, and which they had most frequent occasion to m.ention, would have particular nam"es assigned to them. The particular cave whose covering sheltered them from the weather, the particular tree whose fruit relieved their hunger, the particular fountain whose waters allayed their thirst, would first be denominated by the words cave, tree, fountain^ or by whatever other appellations they might think proper, in that primitive jargon, to mark them. Afterwards, when the more enlarged experience of these savages had led them to observe, an^/ their necessary occasions obliged them to make mention of, other caves, and other trees, and other fountains, they would naturally bestow upon each of those new objects the same name by which they had been accustomed to express the similar object they were first acquainted with. And thus those words, which were originally the proper names of indi- viduals, Avould each of them insensibly become the common name of a multitude." — Ed. OF GENERAL WORDS. 303 III. General Words the Signs of General Concep- tions?^ As general words are so necessary in language, it is natural to conclude that there must be general con- ceptions^ of which they are the signs. Words are empty sounds when they do not signify the thoughts of the speaker ; and it is only from their signification that they are denominated general. Every word that is spoken, considered merely as a sound, is an individual sound. And it can only be called a general word, be- cause that which it signifies is general. Now that which it signifies is conceived by the mind both of the speaker and hearer, if the word have a distinct mean- ing, and be distinctly understood. It is therefore im- possible that words can have a general signification, unless there be conceptions in the mind of the speaker, and of the hearer, of things that are general. We are therefore here to consider whether we have such general conceptions, and how they are formed. To begin with the conceptions expressed by general terms, that is, by such general words as may be the subject or the predicate of a proposition. They are either attributes of things, or they are genera or species of things. It is evident, with respect to all the individuals we are acquainted with, that we have a more clear and distinct conception of their attributes^ than of the sub- ject to which those attributes belong. Take, for instance, any individual body we have access to know, — what conception do we form of it? Every man may knov/ this from his consciousness. He will find that he conceives it as a thing that has length, breadth, and thickness, such a figure, and such a color ; that it is hard, or soft, or fluid ; that it has such quali- ties, and is fit for such purposes. If it is a vegetable, he may know where it grew, what is the form of its leaves, and flower, and seed ; if an animxal, what are its natural instincts, its manner of life, and of rearing its young. Of these attributes belonging to this indi- vidual, and numberless others, he may surely have a distinct conception ; and he will find words in language 304 ABSTRACTION. by which he can clearly and distinctly express each of them. Indeed, the attributes of individuals are all that we distinctly conceive about them. It is true, we conceive a subject to which the attributes belong; but of this subject, when its attributes are set aside, Vv^e have but an obscure and relative conception, whether it be body or mind. The other class of general terms are those that sig- nify the genera and species into which we divide and subdivide things. And if we be able to form distinct conceptions of attributes, it cannot surely be denied, that we may have distinct conceptions oC genera and species ; because they are only collections of attributes which we conceive to exist in a subject, and to which we give a general name. If the attributes compre- hended under that general name be distinctly con- ceived, the thing meant by the name must be distinctly conceived. And the name may justly be attributed to every individual which has those attributes. Thus, I conceive distinctly what it is to have wings, to be covered with feathers, to lay eggs. Suppose, then, that we give the name of bird to every animal that has these three attributes. Here, undoubtedly, my conception of a bird is as distinct as my notion of the attributes which are com.mon to this species : and if this be admitted to be the definition of a bird, there is nothing I conceive more distinctly. If I had never seen a bird, and can but be made to understand the definition, I can easily apply it to every individual of the species, without danger of mistake. Wiien things are divided and subdivided by men of science, and names given to the genera and species^ those names are defined. Thus, the genera and species of plants, and of other natural bodies, are accurately defined by the writers in the various branches of natural history ; so that, to all future generations, the definition will convey a distinct notion of the genus or species defined. There are, without doubt, many words signifying OF GENERAL WORDS. 305 genera and species of things, which have a meaning somewhat vague and indistinct; so that those who speak the same language do not always use them in the same sense. But if w^e attend to the cause of this indistinctness, we shall find, that it is not owing to their being general terms, but to this, that there is no definition of them that has authority. Their meaning, therefore, has not been learned by a definition, but by a kind of induction, — by observing to what individuals they are applied by those who understand the lan- guage. We learn by habit to use them as we see others do, even when we have not a precise meaning annexed to them. A man may know, that to certain individuals they may be applied with propriety; but whether they can be applied to certain other individ- uals, he may be uncertain, either from want of good authorities, or from having contrary authorities, w^hich leave him in doubt. Thus, a man may know, that, when he applies the name of beast to a lion or tiger, and the name of bird to an eagle or a turkey, he speaks properly. But whether a bat be a bird or a beast, he may be uncertain. If there were anv accurate definition of a beast and of a bird, that is of sufficient authoritv, he could be at no loss. A genus or species, being a collection of attributes, conceived to exist in one subject, a definition is the only way to prevent any addition or diminution of its ingredients in the conception of different persons ; and when there is no definition that can be appealed to as a standard, the name will hardly retain the most per- fect precision in its signification. My design at present being only to show that we have general conceptions no less clear and distinct than those of individuals, it is sufficient for this purpose, if this appears with regard to the conceptions expressed by general terms. To conceive the meaning of a gen- eral word, and to conceive that which it signifies, is the same thing. We conceive distinctly the meaning of general terms, therefore we conceive distinctly that which they signify. But such terms do not signify any 26* 306 ABSTRACTION. individnal, but what is common to many individuals ; therefore we have a distinct conception of things com- mon to many individuals, that is, we have distinct gen- eral conceptions. We must here beware of the ambiguity of the word conceptiGn^ ^vhich sometimes signifies the act of the mind in conceivinir, sometimes the thins: conceived, which is the object of that act.* If the word be taken in the first sense, I acknov/ledge that every act of the mind is an individual act ; the universality, therefore, is not in the act of the mind, but in the object, or thing conceived. The thing conceived is an attribute com- mon to many subjects, or it is a genus or species com- mon to many individuals.! CHAPTER II. OF THE EOEMATION OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. I. Distribution of the Subject.] We are next to con- sider the operations of the understanding, by which we are enabled to form general conceptions. These ap- pear to me to be three : — Firsts The resolving or analyzing a subject into its known attributes, and giving a name to each attribute, v/hich name shall signify that attribute, and nothing more. Secondly^ The observing one or more such attributes to be common to many subjects. The first is by philosophers called abstraction; the second may be called generalizing' ; but both, are com- mxonly included under the name of abstraction. ^* This last should be axllcd j:oncept, which was a term in use with the old English philosophers. — H. t On the whole subject of names and naming, sec James Mill's Analysis^ Vol. I. p. 83 et seq. ; Whcwell's Philosophj of the Inductive Sciences, Yol. I., Aphorisms; and J. S. Mill's SijsUtiAof Logic, Book I. — Ed. GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 307 It is difficult to say which of them goes first, or whether they are not so closely connected that neither can claim the precedence. For, on the one hand, to perceive an agreement between two or more objects in the same attribute, seems to require nothing more than to compare them together. A savage, upon seeing snow and chalk, would find no difficulty in perceiving that they have the same color. Yet, on the other hand, it seems impossible that he should observe this agree- ment without abstraction, — that is, distinguishing in his conception the color, wherein those two objects agree, from the other qualities wherein they disagree. It seems, therefore, that we cannot generalize with- out some degree of abstraction ; but I apprehend we may abstract without generalizing. For what hinders me from attending to the whiteness of the paper before me, without applying that color to any other object? The whiteness of this individual object is an abstract conception, but not a general one, v\^hile applied to one individual only. These two operations, however, are subservient to each other ; for the more attributes we observe and distinguish in any one individual, the more agreements we shall discover between it and other in- dividuals. A third operation of the understanding, by which we form abstract conceptions, is the combining into one ivhole a certain number of those attributes of which we have formed abstract notions, and giving a name to that combination. It is thus we form abstract notions of the genera and species of things. These three oper- ations we shall consider in order. II. General Conceptions formed by Abstraction and Generalization,] With regard to abstraction^ strictly so called, I can per^ceive nothing in it that is difficult either to be understood or practised. What can be more easy than to distinguish the different attributes which we know to belong to a subject ? In a man, for instance, to distinguish his size, his complexion, his age, his fortune, his birth, his profession, and twenty 308 " ABSTRACTION, other things 'that belong to him ? To think and speak of these things with understanding, is surely within the reach of every man endowed with the human faculties. There may be distinctions that require nice discern- ment, or an acquaintance with the subject that is not common. Thus, a critic in painting may discern the style of Raphael or Titian, when another man could not. A lawyer may be acquainted with many distinc- tions in crimes, and contracts, and actions, which never occurred to a man who has not studied law. One man mxay excel another in the talent of distinguishing, as he may in memory or in reasoning ; but there is a certain degree of this talent, without which a man would have no title to be considered as a reasonable creature. It ought likewise to be observed, that attributes may with perfect ease be distinguished and disjoined in our conception^ which cannot be actually separated in the subject. Thus, in a body, I can distinguish its solidity from its extension, and its weight from both ; in ex- tension, I can distinguish length, breadth, and thick- ness ; yet none of these can be separated from the body, or from one another. One cannot exist without the other, but one can be conceived without the other. Having considered abstraction, strictly so called, let us next consider the operation oi generalizing^ which is nothing but the observing one or more attributes to be common to many subjects. If any man can doubt whether there be attributes that are really common to many individuals, let him consider whether there be not many men that are above six feet high.^ and many below it ; whether there be not many men that are rich, and many more that are poor; whether there be not many that were born in Britain, and many that were born in France. To multiply in- stances of this kind would be to affront the reader's understanding. It is certain, therefore, that there are innumerable attributes that are really common to many individuals ; and 'f this be what the schoolmen called universale a parte rei, we may afiirm with certainty, that there are such universals. GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 309 There are some attributes expressed by general wv)rds, of which this may seem more doubtful. Such are the qualities which are mlierent in their several subjects. It may be said that every subject hath its own qualities, and that which is the quality of one subject cannot be the quality of another subject. Thus, the whiteness of the sheet of paper upon which I write cannot be the whiteness of another sheet, though both are called white. The weight of one guinea is not the weight of another guinea, though both are said to have the same weight. To this I answer, that the whiteness of this sheet is one thing, ivhiteness is another ; the conceptions signi-. fied by these two forms of speech are as different as the expressions. The first signifies an individual qual- ity really existing, and is not a general conception, though it be an abstract one ; the second signifies a general conception, ivhich implies no existence^ but may be predicated of every thing that is white, and in the same sense. On this account, if one should say, that the whiteness of this sheet is the whiteness of another sheet, every man perceives this to be absurd ; but when he says both sheets are white, this is true and perfectly understood. The conception of whiteness implies no ' existence ; it would remain the same, though every thing in the universe that is white were annihilated. It appears, therefore, that the general names of quali- ties, as well as of other attributes, are applicable to many individuals in the same sense, which could not be if there were not general conceptions signified by such names. The ancient philosophers called these univeksals or PREDicABLES, and cndeavourcd to reduce them to five classes ; to wit, genus ^ species^ specific difference j prop- erties^ and accidents. Perhaps there may be more classes of universals or attributes, for enumerations so very general are seldom complete ; but every attribute, common to several individuals, may be expressed by a general term, which is the sign of a general conception. How prone men are to form general conceptions we 310 ABSTRACTION. may see from the use of metaphor, and of the other figures of speech grounded on similitude. Similitude is nothing else than an agreement of the objects com- pared ia one or more attributes ; and if there be no attribute common to both, there can be no similitude. The similitudes and analogies between the various objects that nature presents to us are infinite and inex- haustible. They not only please, when displayed by the poet or wit in works of taste, but they are highly useful in the ordinary communication of our thoughts and sentiments by language. In the rude languages of barbarous nations, similitudes and analogies supply the want of proper words to express men's sentiments, so much, that in such languages there is hardly a sen- tence without a metaphor ; and if we examine the most copious and polished languages, we shall find that a great proportion of the words and phrases which are accounted the most proper may be said to be the progeny of metaphor. As foreigners, who settle in a nation as their home, come at last to be incorporated, and lose the denomi- nation of foreigners, so words and phrases, at first bor- rowed and figurative, by long use become denizens in the language, and lose the denomination of figures of speech. When we speak of the extent of knowledge, the steadiness of virtue, the tenderness of affection, the perspicuity of expression, no m.an conceives these to be metaphorical expressions ; they are as proper as any in the language. Yet it appears upon the very face of them, that they must have been metaphorical in those who used them first ; and that it is by use and prescrip- tion that they have lost the denomination of figurative, and acquired a right to be considered as proper words. This observation will be found to extend to a great part, perhaps the greater part, of the words of the most perfect languages. Sometimes the name of an individual is given to a general conception, and thereby the individual in a manner generalized. As when the Jew, in Shakspeare, says, " A Daniel come to judgment; yea, a Daniel ! " GExNERAL CONCEPTIONS. 311 In this speech, " a Daniel " is an attribute, or a univer- sal. The character of Daniel, as a man of singular wisdom, is abstracted from his person, and considered as capable of being attributed to othei' persons. Upon the whole, these two operations of abstracting and generalizing appear common to all men that have understanding. The practice of them is, and must be, familiar to every man that uses language ; but it is one thing to practise them, and another to explain how they are performed; as it is one thing to see, another to explain how we see. The first is the province of all men, and is the natural and easy operation of the fac- ulties v/hich God has given us. The second is the province of philosophers, and, though a matter of no great difficulty in itself, has been much perplexed by the ambiguity of words, and still more by the hypothe- ses of philosophers. A mistake which is carried through the whole of Mr. Locke's Essay may be here mentioned. It is, that our simplest ideas or conceptions are got immediately by the senses, or by consciousness, and the complex after- wards formed by compounding them. I apprehend it is far otherwise. Nature presents no object to the senses, or to consciousness, that is not complex. Thus, by our senses v/e perceive bodies of various kinds ; but every body is a complex body ; it has length, breadth, and thickness ; it has figure, and color, and various other sensible qualities, which are blended together in the same subject; and I apprehend that brute animals, who have the same senses that we have, cannot sepa- rate the different qualities belonging to the same sub- ject, and have only a complex and confused notion of the whole. Such, also, would be our notions of the objects of sense, if we had not superior powers of un- derstanding, by which we can analyze the complex object, abstract every particular attribute from the rest, and form a distinct conception of it. So that it is not by the senses immediately, but rather by the powers of analyzing and abstraction, that we get the most simple and the most distinct notions even of the objects of sense. 312 ABSTRACTION. As it is by analyzing a complex object into its sev- eral attributes that we acquire our simplest abstract conceptions, it may be proper to compare this analysis with that which a chemist makes of a compounded boby into the ingredients which enter into its composition ; for although there be such an analogy between these two operations, that we give to both the name of analy- sis or resolution, there is at the same time so great a dissimilitude in some respects, that Vv^e may be led into error, by applying to one what belongs to the other. It is obvious, that the chemical analysis is an opera- tion of the hand upon matter, by various material instruments. The analysis we are now explaining is purely an operation of the understanding, which re- quires no material instrumxcnt, and produces no change upon any external thing ; we shall therefore call it in- tellectual or mental analysis. In chemical analysis, the compound body itself is the subject analyzed, — a subject so imperfectly known, that it may be compounded of various ingredients, when to our senses it appears perfectly simple ; and even when we are able to analyze it into the different ingredients of which it is composed, we know not how or why the combination of those ingredients produces such a body. Thus, pure sea-salt is a body, to appearance, as sim- ple as any in nature. Every the least particle of it, discernible by our senses, is perfectly similar to every other particle in all its qualities. The nicest taste, the quickest eye, can discern no mark of its being made up of different ingredients ; yet, by the chemical art, it can be analyzed into an acid and an alkali, and can be again produced by the combination of those two ingre- dients. But how this combination produces sea-salt, no man has been able to discover. The ingredients are both as unlike the compound as any bodies we know. No man could have guessed, before the thing was known, that sea-salt is compounded of those two in- gredients; no man could have guessed, that the union of those two ingredients should produce such a com- GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 313 pound as sea-salt. Such, in many cases, are the phe* nomena of the chemical analysis of a compound body. If we consider the intellectual analysis of an object, it is evident that nothing of this kind can happen ; be- cause the thing analyzed is not an external object im- perfectly known ; it is a conception of the mind itself. And to suppose that there can be any thing in a con- ception that is not conceived, is a contradiction. The reason of observing the difference between these two kinds of analysis is, that some philosophers, in order to support their systems, have maintained, that a complex idea may have the appearance of the most perfect simplicity, and retain no similitude to any of the simple ideas of which it is compounded; just as a white color may appear perfectly simple, and retain no similitude to any of the seven primary colors of which it is compounded ; or as a chemical composition may appear perfectly simple, and retain no similitude to any of the ingredients. From which those philosophers have drawn this im- portant conclusion, that a cluster of the ideas of sense, properly combined, may make the idea of a mind ; and that all the ideas which Mr. Locke calls ideas of reflec- iion are only compositions of the ideas luldcli vje have by our five senses. From this the transition is easy, that if a proper composition of the ideas of matter may make the idea of a mind, then a proper compo- sition of matter itself may make a mind, and that man is only a piece of matter curiously formed. In this curious system, the whole fabric rests upon this foundation, that a coinplex idea, which is made up of various simple ideas, may appear to be perfectly simple, and have no marks of composition, because a compound body may appear to our senses to be per- fectly simple. As far as I am able to judge, this, which it is said may be, cannot be. That a complex idea should be made up of simple ideas, so that, to a ripe understand- ing reflecting upon that idea, there should be no ap- pearance of composition, n-othing similar to the simple 314 ABSTRACTION. ideas of which it is compounded, seems to me to involve a contradiction. The idea is a conception of the mind. If any thing more than this is meant by the idea, 1 know not what it is ; and I wish both to know what it is, and to have proof of its existence. Now, that there should be any thing in the conception of an object which is not conceived, appears to me as manifest a contradiction, as that there should be an existence which does not exist, or that a thing should be conceived and not conceived at the same time. But, say these philosophers, a white color is produced by the composition of the primary colors, and yet has no resemblance to any of them. I grant it. But what can be inferred from this with regard to the composition of ideas? To bring this argument home to the point, they must say that, because a white color is com- pounded of the primary colors, therefore the idea of a white color is compounded of the ideas of the primary colors. This reasoning, if it was admitted, would lead to innumerable absurdities. An opaque fluid may be compounded of two or more pellucid fluids. Hence w^e might infer with equal force, that the idea of an opaque fluid may be compounded of the idea of two or more pellucid iluids. Nature's way of compounding bodies^ and our way of compounding ideas^ are so diflerent in many respects, that we cannot reason from the one to the other, unless it can be found that ideas are combined by fermenta- tions and elective . attractions, and may be analyzed in a furnace by the force of fire and of menstruums. Until this discovery be made, we must hold, those to be simple ideas, which, upon the most attentive reflection, have no appearance of composition ; and those only to be the ingredients of complex ideas, which, by atten- tive reflection, can be perceived to be contained in them. ^\/ TTI. General Conceptions formed by Combination,] As, by an intellectual analysis of objects, we form gen- eral conceptions of single attributes (which, of all con- genp:ral conceptions. 315 ceplions that enter into the hninnn mind, uve the most simple), so, by combining several of these into one parcel, and giving a name to that combination, we form general conceptions that may be very complex, and at the same time very distinct. Thus, one v/ho, by analyzing extended objects, has got the simple notions of a point, a line, straight or curve, an angle, a sm'face, a solid, can easily conceive a plane sm'face terminated by four equal straight lines meeting in four points at right angles. To this species of figure he gives the name of a square. In like man- ner, he can conceive a solid terminated by six equal squares, and give it the name of a cube, A square, a cube, and every name of a mathematical figure, is a general term expressing a complex general conception, made by a certain combination of the simple elements into Yv'hich we analyze extended bodies. Every mathematical figure is accurately defined by enumerating the simple elements of which it is formed, and the manner of their combination. The definition contains the whole essence of it ; and every property that belongs to it may be deduced by demonstrative reasoning from its definition. It is not a thing that exists, for then it would be an individual ; but it is a thin 5^' that is conceived without rc^^'ard to existence. A farm, a manor, a parish, a county, a kingdom, are complex general conceptions, formed by various combinations and modifications of inhabited territory, under certain forms of government. DiflTerent combi- nations of military men form the notions of a com- pany, a regiment, an army. The several crimes which are the objects of criminal law, such as theft, murder, robbery, piracy, — what are they but certain combina- tions of human actions and intentions, which are accu- rately defined in criminal law, and which it is found convenient to comprehend under one name and con- sider as one thinsr ? When we observe that Nature, in her animal, vege- table, and inanimate productions, has formed many in- dividuals that agree in many of their qualities and 316 ABSTRACTION. attributes, we are led by natural instinct to expect their agreement in other qualities which we have not had oc- casion to perceive. The physician expects that the rhubarb which has never yet been tried will have like medical virtues with that which he has prescribed on former occasions. Two parcels of rhubarb agree in certain sensible qualities, from v/hich agreement they are both called by the same general name, rhubarb. Therefore it is expected that they will agree in their medical virtues. And as expe- rience has discovered certain virtues in one parcel, or in many parcels, we presume, without experience, that the same virtues belong to all parcels of rhubarb that shall be used. If a traveller meets a horse, an ox, or a sheep which he never saw before, he is under no apprehension, be- lieving these animals to be of a species that is tame and inoffensive. But he dreads a lion or a tiger, be- cause they are of a fierce and ravenous species. We are capable of receiving innumerable advantages, and are exposed to innumerable dangers, from the va- rious productions of nature, animal, vegetable, and in- animate. The life of man, if a hundred times longer than it is, would be insufficient to learn from experience the useful and hurtful qualities of every individual pro- duction of nature, taken singly. "^ We have, therefore, a strong and rational inducement both to distribute natural substances into classes, e Oratore^ Lib. III. 50. — " Omnes enim tacito quodam sensu, sine ulla arte aut ratione, in arti- bus ac rationibus, recta ac prava dijudicant. Idque cum faciant in picturis, et in signis, et in aliis operibus, ad quorum intelligentiam a natura minus habent in- strumenti, tum multo ostendunt magis in verborum, numerorum, vocumque judicio ; quod ea sint in com- 7nunibiis infixa sensibus ; neque earum rerum quem- quam funditus natura voluit expertem." Hume's Essays and Treatises^ Vol. I. p. 5. — " But a philosopher who proposes only to represent the common sense of mankind in more beautiful and more engaging colors, if by accident he commits a mistake, goes no further, but, renewing his appeal to common sense and the natural sentiments of the mind, returns into the right path, and secures himself from any dangerous illusion." Hume's Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals^ p. 2. — " Those who have refused the reality of moral distinctions may be ranked among the disingenuous disputants. The only way of converting an antagonist 360 JUDGMENT. of this kind is to leave him to himself: for, finding that nobody keeps up the controversy with him, it is proba- ble he will at last, of himself, from mere weariness, come over to the side of common sense and reason." Priestley's Institutes^ Preliminary Essay, Vol. I. p. 27. — " Because common sense is a sufficient guard against many errors in religion, it seems to have been taken for granted, that that common sense is a sufficient in- structor also, whereas in fact, without positive instruc- tion, men would naturally have been mere savages with respect to religion ; as, without similar instruction, they would be savages with respect to the arts of life and the sciences. Common sense can only be compared to a judge ; but what can a judge do without evi- dence and proper materials from which to form a judg- ment?" Priestley's Examination of Dr. Reidj &c., p. 127. — *' But should we, out of complaisance, admit that what has hitherto been called judgment may be called sense, it is making too free with the established signification of words to call it common sense, which, in common acceptation, has long been appropriated to a very differ- ent thing, viz., to that capacity for judging of common things that persons of middling capacities are capable of." Again, p. 129. — "I should therefore expect, that, if a man was so totally deprived of common sense as not to be able to distinguish truth from falsehood in one case, he would be equally incapable of distinguish- ing it in another." From this cloud of testimonies, to which hundreds might be added, I apprehend that whatever censure is thrown upon those who have spoken of common sense as a principle of knowledge, or v/ho have appealed to it in matters that are self-evident, will fall light, when there are so many to share in it. Indeed, the authority of this tribunal is too sacred and venerable, and has prescription too long in its favor^ to be now wisely called in question. Those who are disposed to do so may remember the shrewd saying of Mr. Plobbes, — "When reason is against a man, a man will be Ob COMMON SENSE. ^61 against reason." This is equally applicable to common sense.* ^ In the fifth section of the same Dissertation referred to in the last note, Sir W. Hamilton defines with clearness and precision the various accep- tations of the term common sense^ only two or three of wliicli need here be noticed. Sometimesi. " it denotes tlie complanient of those cognitions or convic- tions which lue receive from nature ; which all men profess in common ; and by which theij test the truth of knowledge and the moralitij of actions. Tliis is the meanini^- in which tlie expression is now emphatically employed in philoso- phy, and which may be, therefore, called its philoso/>hical signification. As authorities for its use in this relation, Keid has adduced legitimate exain- ])Ies from Bentley, Shaftesbury, Fenelon, BulHcr, and Hume. The others which he ([uotes from Cicero and Priestley can liardly be considered as more than instances of the employment of the words ; for the former, in the particular passage ([uoted, does not seem to mean by sensus communis more than the faculty of apprehending sensible relations which all possess ; and the latter explicitly states, that he uses the words in the meaning which we are hereafter to consider. Mr. Stewart, Elements^ Part II. Cliap. I. Sect IV., to the examples of Ilcid adds only a single, and that not an un- ambiguous instance, from Bayle. It therefore still remains to show that in tills signilication its employment is not only of authori/ed usage, but, in fact, one long and universally established. This is done in the series of testimonies I shall adduce in a subsecpient part of this note [from Hesiod to I)c la Mennais, in all one hundred and six witnesses], — principally, in- deed, to prove that the doctrine of common sense, notwithstanding many schismatic aberrations, is the one catholic and pereiniial philosophy, but which also concur in showing that this, too, is the naine under which that doctrine has for two thousand years been most familiarly known, at least in the Western world. Of these, Lucretius, Cicero, Horace, Seneca, Ter- tuUian, Arnobius, and St. Augustine exhibit the expression as recognized in the language and philosophy of ancient Rome ; while some fifty others prove its scientific and colloquial usage in every country of modern Eu- ro] )e." According to another acceptation of the term common sense, "it denotes such an ordinary complement of intelligence, that, if a person be deficient therein, he is accounted mad or foolish. Srjisas communis is thus used in Phaidrus, Lib. I. 7 ; but Horace, Serm., Lib. I. 3, and Juvenal, Sat. VIII. 73, are erroneously, though usually, intcri)reted in this signification. In modern Latinity (as in Milton Contra Salmasium, Cap. VIIL), and in most of the vulgar languages, the expression in this meaning is so familiar, that it would be idle to adduce examples. Sir James Mackintosh, Dissert at ions, &c., p. 387 of the collected edition, imagines, indeed, that this is the only meaning o^ common sense ; and on this ground censures Keid for the adop- tion of the term ; and even Mr. Stewart's objections to it seem to proceed on the supposition, tliat this is the ])roper or more accredited signiticatio;*. See Elements, Part II. Cliap. I. Sect. 11. ; and Life of Jlcid, Sect. II. _ This is wrong ; but lieid himself, it must be acknowledged, does not sufliciently distinguish between this and the last-mentioned acceptation ; as may be seen f^rom the tenor of his chay)ter on Common Sense, but especially from the concluding chapter of the Jnquirgy Again, when common sense is used with emphasis on the substantive and not on the adjective, it often, in i)opular lang» age. " expresses native prac VA 362 JUDGMENT. III. Relation of Reason and Commoii Sense to each other. \ It is absurd to conceive that there can be any opposition between reason and common sense. It is, indeed, the first-born of reason, and, as they are com- monly joined together in speech and in writing, they are inseparable in their nature. We ascribe to reason two offices, or two degrees. The first is to judge of things self-evident ; the second to draw conclusions that are not self-evident from those that are. The first of these is the province, and the sole province, of common sense ; and therefore it co- incides with reason in its whole extent, and is only another name for one hrancJi or one degree of reason. Perhaps it may be said. Why, then, should you give it a particular name, since it is acknowledged to be only a degree of reason ? It would be a sufficient answer to this. Why do you abolish a name which is to be found in the language of all civilized nations, and has ac- quired a right by prescription ? Such an attempt is equally foolish and ineffectual. Every wise man will be apt to think, that a name which is found in all lan- guages as far back as we can trace them, is not without some use. But there is an obvious reason w^hy this degree of reason should have a name appropriated to it; and that is, that in the greatest part of ^nankind no other degree of reason is to be found. It is this degree that entitles them to the denomination of reasonable creatures. It is this degree of reason, and this only, that makes a man capable of managing his own affairs, and answer- able for his conduct towards others. There is, there- fore, the best reason why it should have a name appro- priated to it. tical intelligence^ naturol prudence^ mother wit, tact in behaviour, acuteness in the observation of character. Sj^c, in contrast to habits of acquired learning, or of speculation away from the affairs of life. I recollect no^unambiguous exam- ples of the phrase, in this precise acceptation, in any ancient author. In rnodcrn languages, and more particularly in French and English, it is of ordinary occurrence. Thus, Voltaire's saying, ' Le sens commun n'cst pas si common ';~whlcli, I may notice, was stolen from Buffier, ilie^a- phi/sique, § 69." — Ed. OF COMMON SENSE. 363 These two degrees of reason clifTer in other respects, which would be sufficient to entitle them to distinct names. The first is purely the gift of Heaven, And where Heaven has not given it, no education can supply the want. The second is learned by practice and rules^ when the first is not wanting. A man who has com- mon sense may be taught to reason. But if he has not that gift, no teaching will make him able either to judge of first principles or to reason from them. I have only this further to observe, that the province of common sense is more extensive in refutation than in confrmation. A conclusion drawn by a train of just reasoning from true principles cannot possibly contra- dict any decision of common sense, because truth will always be consistent with itself. Neither can such a conclusion receive any confirmation from common sense, because it is not within its jurisdiction. But it is possible, that, by setting out from false prin- ciples, or by an error in reasoning, a man may be led to a conclusion that contradicts the decisions of com- m.on sense. In this case, the conclusion is within the jurisdiction of common sense, though the reasoning on which it was oTounded be not ; and a man of com- mon sense may fairly reject the conclusion, without being able to show the error of the reasoning that led to it. Thus, if a mathematician, by a process of in- tricate demonstration, in Vv^hich some false step was made, should be brought to this conclusion, that two quantities, which are equal to a third, are not equal to each other, a man of common sense, without pretend- ing to be a judge of the demonstration, is well entitled to reject the conclusion, and to pronounce it absurd.* * In Jouifroy's Mckir<^ell stated by Aristotle, — ' What appears to cdl, that we affirm to he ; and he who rejects this belief will assuredly advance nothing better deserving of credence.^ And again : — ' If we knov/ and beliei^e through certain original princi- ples, we must know and believe these with paramount certainty, for the very reason that we know and believe all else through them.' And such are the truths in regard to which the Aphrodisian says, — ' Though some men may verbally dissent, all men are in their hearts agreed.' This con- stitutes the first of Buffier's essential qualities of primary truths, which is, as he expresses it, ' to be so clear, that, if we attempt to prove or to dis- prove them, this can be done only by propositions which are manifestly neither more eindent nor more certain.'' " Compare Buffier's First Truths, Part I. Chap. VII.: Stewart's Elements^ Part II. Chap. I ; Coleridge's Aids to Refection, comment on the eighth of his Aphorisms 07i Spiritual Religion ; Jacques, Sur le Sejis Commun, comme Principe et comme Mdthode Fhilosophique, passim, published in Mem. de VAcad. Royale des Sciences Mor. et Pol.., Tome I., Savants Etrangers ; Whewell's Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, Part I. Book I. ; Mill's System of Logic, Book II. Chap. V. Most of these authorities treat ex» . clusively of the first principles of necessary truths. — Ed. 380 JUDGMENT, duced to two classes. They are either necessary and immutable truths^ whose contrary is impossible ; or they are contingent and. mutable^ depending upon some effect of will and power, which had a beginning, emd may have an end. That a cone is the third part of a cylinder of the . same base and the same altitude, is a necessary truth. It depends not upon the v\dll and power of any being. It is immutably true, and the contrary impossible. That the sun is the centre, about which the earth, and the other planets of our system, perform their revolutions, is a truth ; but it is not a necessary truth. It depends upon the power and will of that Being who made the sun and all the planets, and who gave them those motions that seemed best to him. As the minds of men are occupied much more about truths that are contingent than about those that are necessary, I shall first endeavour to point out the prin- ' ciples of the former kind. If the enumeration should appear to some redundant, to others deficient, and to others both ; if things which I conceive to be first prin- ciples should to others appear to be vulgar errors, or to be truths which derive their evidence from other truths, and therefore not first principles ; in these things every man must judge for himself. 1. Firsts then, I hold, as a first principle, the existence of every things of ivhich I am conscious. Consciousness is an operation of the understanding of its own kind, and cannot be logically defined. The objects of it are our present pains, our pleasures, onr hopes, our fears, our desires, our doubts, our thoughts of every kind ; in a word, all the passions, and all the actions and operations of our own minds, while they are present. We may remember them when they are past ; but we are conscious of them only while they are present. When a man is conscious of pain, he is certain of its existeuce ; when he is conscious that he doubts, or believes, he is certain of the existence of those oper- ations. But the irresistible conviction he has of the FIRST PRINCIPLES. 381 reality of those operations is not the effect of reason- ing; it is immediate and intuitive. The existence, therefore, of those passions and operations of our minds, of which we are conscious, is a first principle, which Nature requires us to believe upon her authority. If I am asked to prove that I cannot be deceived by consciousness, — to prove that it is not a fallacious sense, — I can find no proof. I cannot find any ante- cedent truth from which it is deduced, or upon which its evidence depends. It seems to disdain any such derived authority, and to claim my assent in its own right. If any man could be found so frantic as to deny that he- thinks, while he is conscious of it, I may wonder, I may laugh, or I may pity him, but I cannot reason the matter with him. We have no common principles from which we may reason, and therefore can never join issue in an argument. This, I think, is the only principle of common sense that has never directly been called in question.* It seems to be so firmly rooted in the minds of men, as to retain its authority with the greatest skeptics. Mr. Hume, after annihilating body and mind, time and space, action and causation, and even his own mind, acknowledges the reality of the thoughts, sensations, and passions of which he is conscious. No philosopher has attempted by any hypothesis to account for this consciousness of our own thoughts, and the certain knowledge of their real existence which accompanies it. By this they seem to acknowledge, that this at least is an original power of the mind ; a power by which we not only have ideas, but original judgments, and the knowledge of real existence. I cannot reconcile this immediate knowledge of the operations of our own minds with Mr. Locke's theory, that all knowledge consists in perceiving the agreement and disagreement of ideas. What are the ideas, from * It could not possibly be called in question. For, in doubting the fad of his consciousness, the skeptic must at least affirm the fact of his doubt j but to affirm a doubt is to affirm the consciousness of it : the doubt would^ therefore, be self-contradictory, — i. e. annihilate itself. — H. 382 JUDGMENT. whose comparison the knowledge of our own thoughts results ? Or what are the agreements or disagree- ments which convince a man that he is in pain when he feels it.* 2. Another first principle, I think, is, that the thoughts of lohich I am conscious are the thoughts of a being tvhich I call myself, m?/ mind, m?/ person. The thouo;hts and feelinsfs of which we are con- scious are continually changing, and the thought of this moment is not the thought of the last ; but some- thing which I call mT/^eZ/' remains under this change of thought. This self has the same relation to all the suc- cessive thoughts I am conscious of; they are all m?/ thoughts ; and every thought which is not my thought must be the thought of some other person. If any man asks a proof of this, I confess I can give none ; there is an evidence in the proposition itself which I am unable to resist. Shall I think, that thought can stand by itself Avithout a thinking being? or that ideas can feel pleasure or pain ? My nature dictates to me that it is impossible. And that nature has dictated the same to all men appears from the structure of all lanc^ua2:es : for in all lano;ua2:es men have expressed thinking, reasoning, willing, loving, hating, by personal verbs, which from their nature re- quire a person who thinks, reasons, wills, loves, or hates. From which it appears, that men have been taught by natuu^e to believe that thought requires a thinker, reason a reasoner, and love a lover.f * See M. Cousin's criticism on Locke's theory of knowledge, showing its inadequacy in respect to all immediate or ultimate cognitions, and all cognitions of real existences of whatever kind. Elements of Psycliohgy^ Chap. VIII. and IX. — Ed. t This is precisely Avliat Descartes intended by his celebrated enthy- mem, Cogito, ergo sum ^ — so often objected to by Keid and others, and so feebly and hesitatingly defended by Stewart, Essaijs, Ess. I. Chap. I. M. Cousin, in his Fragments Philosophigues^ 3d ed., Tome 1. p. 334 et seg., has set the question in its true light: — "Before Spinoza and Reid, Gassendi had attacked the enthAnnem of Descartes. ' The proposition, / think^ therefore I am, supposes,' says Gassendi, ' this major, — That ivhich thinks exists; and consequently involves a begging of the question.' To this Descartes replies: — 'I do not beg the question, for I do not suppose ' FIRST PRINCIPLES, 383 Here we must leave Mr. Hume, who conceives it to be a vulgar error, that, besides the thoughts we are con- scious of, there is a mind which is the subject of those thoughts. If the mind be any thing else than impres- sions and ideas, it must be a word without a meaning. The mind, therefore, according to this philosopher, is a word which signifies a bundle of perceptions ; or, when he defines it more accurately, "it is that succession of related ideas and impressions, of vv^hich we have an in- timate memory and consciousness." any major. I maintain that the proposition, / think^ therefore I exists is a particular truth Avliich is introduced into the mind without recourse to any more general truth, and independently of any logical deduction. It is not a prejudice, hut a natural judgment, v/hich at once and irresistihly strikes the intelligence.' ' The notion of existence,' says he, in reply to the ohjections, 'is a primitive notion, not obtained by any syllogism, but evident in itself; and the mind discovers it by intuition.' Kcasoning does not logically deduce existence from thought ; but the mind cannot think without knowing itself, because being is given in and under thouglit : — Cogito, ergo sum. The certainty of tliinking docs not go before tlie certain- ty of existence ; the former contains and develops the latter ', they are two contemporaneous verities blended in one fundamental verity. The funda- mental complex verity is the sole principle of the Cartesian pliilosophy." But Keid would still object, " Why not begin with some fact of the senses, as well as with some fact of consciousness, inasmuch as both rest on the same evidence'?" — They do not rest on the same evidence ; for, as has been repeatedly intimated before, doubting the consciousness is the onlj/ doubt which is absolutely self-contradictory, which annihilates itself, and which, therefore, not only cannot be defended, but cannot be entertained. Descartes, following a micthod of the merits of which we do not now speak, was in quest of some fact or principle which he could not possibly doubt even in speculation, and such a fact or principle he found in the testimony of consciousness alone. This, therefore, he not only made his point of de- parture, but the point cVappui of his whole system, professing to accept nothing but the facts of consciousness and what these facts either contain or presuppose. In the same spirit one of the early English followers of Descartes wrote : — " If we reflect but upon our own souls, how manifestly do the species [notions] of reason^ freedom^ perception^ and the like, offer themselves to us, whereby we may know a thousand times more distinctly what our souls are than what our bodies are. For the former we know bv an immediate converse with ourselves, and a distinct sense of their opera- tions ; whereas all our knowledge of the body is little better than merely liistorical, wliich we gather up by scraps and piecemeal from more doubt- ful and uncertain experiments which we make of them : but the notions which we have of a mind^ i. e. something within us that thinks, apprehends, reasons, and discourses, are so clear, and distinct from all those notions which we fasten upon a body, that we can easily conceive that, if ail body* being in the world were destroyed, yet we might then as well subsist aa now we do." — Smith's Select Discourses, Disc. IV. Chap. VI. — Ed. 884 JUDGMENT. I am, therefore, that succession of related ideas and impressions of which I have the intimate memory and consciousness. But who is the /that has this memory and consciousness of a succession of ideas and impres- sions ? Why, it is nothing but that succession itself. Hence I learn, that this succession of ideas and impres- sions intimately remembers, and is conscious of itself. I would wish to be further instructed, whether the im- pressions remember and are conscious of the ideas, or the ideas remember and are conscious of the impres- sions, or if both remember and are conscious of both ? and whether the ideas remember those that come after them, as well as those that were before them ? These are questions naturally arising from this system, that have not yet been explained. This, however, is clear, that this succession of ideas and impressions not only remembers and is conscious, but that it judges, reasons, affirms, denies ; nay, that it eats and drinks, and is sometimes merry and some- times sad. If these things can be ascribed to a succes- sion of ideas and impressions, in a consistency with- common sense, I should be very glad to know what is nonsense. The scholastic philosophers have been wittily ridi- culed, by representing them as disputing upon this question, — Nu7}i clmncera hombinans in vacuo possit comedere secundas intejitiones ? And I believe the wit of man cannot invent a more ridiculous question. But, if Mr. Hume's philosophy be admitted, this question deserves to be treated more gravely ; for if, as we learn from this philosophy, a succession of ideas and impres- sions may eat, and drink, and be merry, I see no good reason why a chimera, which, if not the same, is of kin to an idea, may not chew the cud upon that kind of food which the schoolmen call second intentions^' * All this criticism of Hume proceeds on the erroneous hypothesis that he was a dogmatist. He was a skeptic^ — that is, he accepted the principles asserted by the prevalent dogrhatism ; and only showed that such and such conclusions were, on these principles, inevitable. The absurdity was not Hume's, but Locke's. This is the kind of criticism, however, with which Hume is generally assailed. — H. FIRST PRINCIPLES. 3. Another first principle I take to be, that those things did really happen ivhich I distinctly re?ne?nber. This has one of the surest marks of a first principle ; for no man ever pretended to prove it, and yet no man in his wits calls it in question. The testimony of memory, like that of consciousness, is immediate ; it claims our assent upon its own authority.* Suppose that a learned counsel, in defence of a client against the concurring testimony of witnesses of credit, should insist upon a new topic to invalidate the testi- nriony. " Admitting," says he, " the integrity of the witnesses, and that they distinctly remember what they have given in evidence, it does not follow that the prisoner is guilty. It has never been proved that the most distinct memory may not be fallacious. Show me any necessary connection between that act of the mind which we call memory, and the past existence of the event remembered. No man has ever offered a shadow of argument to prove such a connection ; yet this is one link of the chain of proof against the prisoner ; and if it have no strength, the whole proof falls to the ground. Until this, therefore, be made evi- dent, until it can be proved, that we may safely rest upon the testimony of memory for the truth of past events, no judge or jury can justly take away the life of a citizen upon so doubtful a point." I believe we may take it for granted, that this argu- ment from a learned counsel would have no other effect upon the judge or jury, than to convince them that he was disordered in his judgment. Counsel is allowed to plead every thing for a client that is fit to persuade or to move ; yet I believe no counsel ever had the bold- ness to plead this topic. And for what reason? For no other reason, surely, but because it is absurd. NoWj what is absurd at the bar is so in the philosopher's * The datum of memory does not stand upon the same ground as the c/af urn of simple consciousness. In so far as memory is consciousness, it cannot be denied. We cannot, without contradiction, deny the fact of memory as a present consciousness 5 but we may, without contradiction, suppose that the past given therein is only an illusion of the present. — H 386 JUDGMENT. chair. What would be ridiculous, if delivered to a jury of honest, sensible citizens, is no less so when delivered gravely in a philosophical dissertation. 4. Another first principle is our own personal identity and continued existence.^ as far back as vje remember any thing distinctly* This we know immediately, and not by reasoning. It seems, indeed, to be a part of the testimony of mem- ory. Every thing we remember has such a relation to ourselves, as to imply necessarily our existence at the time remembered. And there cannot be a more palpa- ble absurdity than that a man should remember what happened before he existed. He must therefore have existed as far back as he remembers p.ny thing dis- tinctly, if his memory be not fallacious. This princi- ple, therefore, is so connected with the last mentioned, that it may be doubtful whether both ought not to be included in one. Let every one judge of this as he sees reason. The proper notion of identity, and the opinions of Mr. Locke on this subject, have been con- sidered before under the head of Memory. 5. Another first principle, I think, is, that loe have some degree of poiuer over our actions^ and the deter- minations of our will, / ' All power must be derived from the Fountain of power and of every good gift. Upon his good pleasure its continuance depends, and it is always subject to his control. Beings to whom God has given any degree of power, and understanding to direct them to the proper use of it, must be accountable to their Maker. But those who are intrusted with no pov/er can have no account to make ; ibr all good conduct consists in the right use of power ; all bad conduct in the abuse of it. To call to account a being who never was intrusted with any degree of power, is an absurdity no less than it would be to call to an account an inanimate being. We are sure, therefore, if we have any account to make to the Author of our being, that we must have some degree of power, which, as far as it is properly used, entitles us to his approbation ; and, when abused, ren- ders us obnoxious to bis displeasure. FIRST PRINCIPLES. 387 it is not easy to say in what way we first get the %^^Jion or idea of poiver. It is neither an object of sense nor of consciousness. We see events, one succeeding another ; but we see not the power by which they are produced. We are conscious of the operations of our minds ; but power is not an operation of mind. If we had no notions but such as are furnished by the exter- nal senses and by consciousness, it seems to be impos- sible that we should ever have any conception of power. Accordingly, Mr. Hume, who has reasoned the most accurately upon this hypothesis, denies that we have any idea of power, and clearly refutes the account given by Mr. Locke of the origin of this idea. But it is in vain to reason from an hypothesis against a fact, the truth of which every man may see by attend- ing to his own thoughts. It is evident, that all men, very early in life, not only have an idea of power, but a conviction that they have some degree of it in them- selves ; for this conviction is necessarily implied in many operations of mind, which are familiar to every man, and without which no man can act the part of a reasonable being. First, It is implied in every act of volition, ^' Voli- tion, it is plain," says Mr. Locke, "is an act of the mind, knowingly exerting that dominion which it takes itself to have over any part of the man, by employing it in, or withholding it from, any particular action.'' Ev- ery volition therefore implies a coiiviction of power to do the action willed. A man may desire to make a visit to the moon, or to the planet Jupiter ; but nothing but insanity could make him will to do so. And if even insanity produced this effect, it must be by making liim think it to be in his power. Secondly. This conviction is implied in all delibera- tion; for no man in his wits deliberates whether he shall do what he believes not to be in his power. Thirdly, The same conviction is implied in every res- olution or purpose formed in consequence of deliberation. A man may as well form a resolution to pull the moon out of her sphere, as to do the most insignificant action 388 JUDGMENT. which he believes not to be in his power. The same thing may be said of every promise or contract wherein a man plights his faith ; for he is not an honest man who promises what he does not believe he has power to perform. As these operations imply a belief of some degree of power in ourselves, so there are others equally common and familiar, which imply a like belief with regard to others. When we impute to a man any action or omission, as a ground of approbation or of blame, we must believe he had power to do otherwise. The same is implied in all advice, exhortation, command, and rebuke, and in every case in which we rely upon his fidelity in performing any engagement, or executing any trust. It is not more evident that mankind have a convic- tion of the existence of a material world, than that they have the conviction of some degree of power in them- selves, and in others, every one over his own actions, and the determinations of his will, — a conviction so early, so general, and so interwoven with the whole of human conduct, that it must be the natural effect of our constitution, and intended by the Author of our be- ing to guide our actions. It resembles our conviction of the existence of a material world in this respect also, that even those who reject it in speculation fmd them- selves under a necessity of being governed by it in their practice ; and thus it will always happen when philosophy contradicts first principles.* 6. Another first principle is, that the natural faculties^ by ivhich we distinguish truth from error ^ are not falla- cious. If any man should demand a proof of this, it is im- possible to satisfy him. For suppose it should be mathematically demonstrated, this would signify noth- ing in this case ; because, to judge of a demonstration, * This subject is discussed by Reid more at length in his Essays on the Active Poy:ers of Man ^ Ess. I. See also Stewart's FhilosopJiy of the Active and Moral Powers, Walker's edition, Book II. Chap. VI. ; Cousin's Elements of Psychology^ Chap. TV. ; and Bowen's Lowell Lectures, Lect. IV. — Ed. FIRST PRINCIPLES. 389 a man must trust his faculties, and take for granted the very thing in question. If a man's honesty were called in question, it would be ridiculous to refer it to the man's own word whether he be honest or not. The same absurdity there is in attempting to prove, by any kind of reasoning, probable or demonstrative, that our reason is not fallacious, since the very point in question is whether reasoning may be trusted. Descartes certainly made a false step in this matter ; for having suggested this doubt among others, — that whatever evidence he might have from his conscious- ness, his senses, his memory, or his reason, yet possibly some malignant being had given him those faculties on purpose to impose upon him ; and, therefore, that they are not to be trusted without a proper voucher, — to remove this doubt he endeavours to prove the being of a Deity who is no deceiver : whence he concludes, that the faculties he had given him are true and worthy to be trusted. It is strange that so acute a reasoner did not per- ceive, that in this reasoning there is evidently a begging of the question. For if our faculties be fallacious, vjhy may they not deceive us in this reasoning as well as in others? And if they are to be trusted in this instance without a voucher, why not in others ? Every kind of reasoning for the veracity of our faculties amounts to no more than taking their own testimony for their ve- racity, and this we must do implicitly, until God give us new faculties to sit in judgment upon the old ; and the reason why Descartes satisfied himself with so weak an argument for the truth of his faculties most probably was, that he never seriously doubted of it. If any truth can be said to be prior to all others in the order of nature, this seems to have the best claim ; because in every instance of assent, whether upon in- tuitive, demonstrative, or probable evidence, the truth of our faculties is taken for granted, and is, as it were, one of the premises on which our assent is grounded.* There is a presumption in favor of the veracity of the primary data 390 JUDGMENT. How, then, come we to be assured of this fundamen- tal truth on which all others rest? Perhaps evidence^ as in many other respects it resembles lights so in this also, — that as light, which is the discoverer of all visi- ble objects, discovers itself at the same time, so evi- dence, which is the voucher for all truth, vouches for itself at the same time. This, however, is certain, that such is the constitution of the human mind, that evi- dence discerned by us forces a corresponding degree of assent. And a man who perfectly understood a just syllogism, without believing that the conclusion follows from the premises, would be a greater monster than a man born without hands or feet. We are born under a necessity of trusting to our rea- soning and judging powers ; and a real belief of their being fallacious cannot be maintained for any consider- able time by the greatest skeptic, because it is doing violence to our constitution. It is like a man's walk- ing upon his hands, a feat which some men upon occa- sion can exhibit ; but no man ever made a long journey in this manner. Cease to admire his dexterity, and he will, like other men, betake himself to his legs. We may here take notice of a property of the princi- ple under consideration, that seems to be common to it with many other first principles, and which can hardly be found in any principle that is built solely upon rea- soning ; and that is, that in most men it produces its effect without ever being' attended to^ or made an object of thought. No man ever thinks of this principle, unless when he considers the grounds of skepticism ; yet it in- variably governs his opinions. When a man in the common course of life gives credit to the testimony of his senses, his memory, or his reason, he does not put the question to himself, whether these faculties may de- ceive him ; yet the trust he reposes in them supposes an inward conviction, that, in that instance at least, they do not deceive him. of consciousness. This can only be rebutted by showing that these facts are contradictory. Skepticism attempts to show this on the principlcsi which dogmatism postulates. — H. FIRST PRINCIPLES. 391 It is another property of this and of many first prin- ciples, that they force assent in particular instances more poio erf ally than when they are turned into a general prop- osition. Many skeptics have denied every general prin- ciple of science, excepting, perhaps, the existence of our ' present thoughts ; yet these men reason, and refute, and prove, they assent and dissent in particular cases. They use reasoning to overturn all reasoning, and judge that they ought to have no judgment, and see clearly that they are blind. Many have in general maintained that the senses are fallacious, yet there never was found a man so skeptical as not to trust his senses in particular instances, when his safety required it ; and it may be observed of those who have professed skepticism, that their skepticism lies in generals, while in particulars they are no less dogmatical than others.* 7. Another first principle I take to be, that certain features of the countenance^ sounds of the voice^ and ges- tures of the body^ indicate certain thoughts and disposi- tions of mind. That many operations of the mind have their natural signs in the countenance, voice, and gesture, I suppose every man will admit. Omnis enim motus animi, says Cicero, suum quemdam habet a natura vultum^ et vocem, et gestum. The only question is, whether we under- stand the signification of those signs by the constitu- tion of our nature, by a kind of natural perception similar to the perceptions of sense ; or whether we grad- ually learn the signification of such signs from expe- rience, as w^e learn that smoke is a sign of fire, or that the freezing of water is a sign of cold. I take the first to be the truth. It seems to me incredible, that the notions men have of the expression of features, voice, and gesture are en- tirely the fruit of experience. Children, almost as soon as born, may be frighted and thrown into fits by a threatening or angry tone of voice. I knew a man who * Compare Jouf^rojs Introduction to Ethics, Lect. IX.; and Javary, Dela Certitude, \:)assim.. — Ed. 392 JUDGMENT. could make an infant cry, by whistling a melancholy tune in the same or in the next room ; and again, by altering his key, and the strain of his music, could make the child leap and dance for joy. It is not by experience surely that we learn the ex- pression of music ; for its operation is commonly strong- est the first time we hear it. One air expresses mirth and festivity ; so that, when we hear it, it is with diffi- culty we can forbear to dance. Another is sorrowful and solemn. One inspires with tenderness and love ; another with rage and fury. " Hear how Timotheus' varied lays surprise, And bid alternate passions all and rise ; While, at each change, the son of Lybian Jove Now burns with glory, and then melts with love. Now his fierce eyes with sparkling fury glow, Now sighs steal out, and tears begin to flow. Persians and Greeks like turns of nature found, And the world's victor stood subdued by sound." The countenance and gesture have an expression no less strong and natural than the voice. The first time one sees a stern and fierce look, a contracted brow, and a menacing posture, he concludes that the person is in- flamed with anger. Shall we say, that, previous to ex- perience, the most hostile countenance has as agreeable an appearance as the most gentle and benign ? This surely would contradict all experience ; for we know that an angry countenance will fright a child in the cradle. Who has not observed, that children, very early, are able to distinguish what is said to them in jest from what is said in earnest, by the tone of the voice, and the features of the face? They judge by these natural signs, even when they seem to contradict the artificial. If it were by experience that we learn the meaning of features, and sound, and gesture, it might be ex- pected that we should recollect the time when we first Jearnt those lessons, or at least some of such a multi- tude. Those who, give attention to the operations of children can easily discover the time when they have their earliest notices from experience, — such as that FIRST PRINCIPLES. 393 flame will burn, or that knives will cut. But no man is able to recollect in himself, or to observe in others, the time when the expression of the face, voice, and gesture was learned. Nay, I apprehend that it is impossible that this should be learned from experience. When we see the sign, and see the thing signified always conjoined with it, experience may be the instructor, and teach us how that sign is to be interpreted. But how shall expe- rience instruct us when we see the sign only, — when the thing signified is invisible ? Now this is the case here ; the thoughts and passions of the mind, as well as the mind itself, are invisible, and therefore their connec- tion with any sensible sign cannot be first discovered by experience ; there must be some earlier source of this knowledge. Nature seems to have given to men a faculty or sense by which this connection is perceived. And the operation of this sense is very analogous to that of the external senses. When I grasp an ivory ball in my hand, I feel a certain sensation of touch. In the sensa- tion there is nothing external, nothing corporeal. The sensation is neither round nor hard ; it is an act or feel- ing of the mind, from which I cannot, by reasoning, in- fer the existence of any body. But, by the constitution of my nature, the sensation carries along with it the conception and belief of a round, hard body really exist- ing in my hand. In like manner, when I see the fea- tures of an expressive face, I see only figure and color variously modified. But by the constitution of my na- ture, the visible object brings along with it the concep- tion and belief of a certain passion or sentiment in the mind of the person. In the former case, a sensation of touch is the sign, and the hardness and roundness of the body I grasp is signified by that sensation. In the latter case, the features of the person are the sign, and the passion or sentiment is signified by it. The power of natural signs, to signify the sentiments and passions of the mind, is seen in the signs of dumb persons^ who can make themselv_es to be understood in 394 JUDGMENT. a considerable degree, even by those who are wholly in- experienced in that language. It is seen in the traffic which has been frequently carried on between people that have Qto common ac- quired language* They can buy and sell, and ask and refuse, and show a friendly or hostile disposition by natural signs. It was seen still more in the actors among the an- cients, who performed the gesticulation upon the stage, while others recited the words. To such a pitch was this art carried, that we are told Cicero and Roscius used to contend whether the orator could express any thing by words which the actor could not express in dumb show by gesticulation ; and whether the same sentence or thought could not be acted in all the va- riety of ways in which the orator could express it in words. But the most surprising exhibition of this kind was that of the pantomimes among the Romans, who acted plays, or scenes of plays, without any recitation, and yet could be perfectly understood. And here it deserves our notice, that, although it required much study and practice in the pantomimes to excel in thieir art, yet it required neither study nor practice in the spectators to understand them. It was a natural language^ and therefore understood by all men, whether Romans, Greeks, or barbarians, by the learned and the unlearned. Lucian relates, that a king, whose dominions bordered upon the Euxine Sea, happening to be at Rome in the reign of Nero, and having seen a pantomime act, beg- ged him of Nero, that he might use him in his in- tercourse with all the nations in his neighbourhood. a For," said he, " I am obliged to employ I don't know how many interpreters, in order to keep up a correspond- ence with neighbours who speak many laSiguages, and do not understand mine ; but this fellow will make them all understand him." For these reasons, I conceive, it must be granted, not only that there is a connection established by nature between certain signs in the countenance, voice, and FIRST PRINCIPLES. 395 gesture, and the thoughts and passions of the niind ; but also, that, by our constitution, we understand the meaning of those signs, and from the sign conclude the existence of the thing signified.* 8. Another first principle appears to me to be, that there is a certain regard due to human testimony in mat- ters of fact -^ and even to human authority in matters of opinion. Before we are capable of reasoning about testimony or authority, there are many things which it concerns us to know, for which we can have no other evidence. The wise Author of nature has planted in the human mind a propensity to rely upon this evidence before we can give a reason for doing so. This, indeed, puts our judgment almost entirely in the power of those who are about us in the first period of life; but this is necessary both to our preservation and to our improve- ment. If children were so framed, as to pay no regard _ to testimony or to authority, they must, in the literal sense, " perish for lack of knovvledge." It is not more necessary that they should be fed before they can feed themselves, than that they should be instructed in many things before they can discover them by their own judgment. But when our faculties ripen, we find reason to check that propensity to yield to testimony and to authority, which was so necessary and so natural in the first pe- riod of life. We learn to reason about the regard due to them, and see it to be a childish weakness to lay more stress upon them than reason justifies. Yet, I believe, to the end of life, most men are more apt to go into this extreme than into the contrary ; and the natu- ral propensity still retains some force. The natural principles, by which our judgments and opinions are regulated before we come to the use of reason, seem to be no less necessary to such a being as * Compare Condillac, Essai sur VOrigine des Connoissances Humaines, II® Par tie (translated by ]SI'u,o:eiit, A?i Essay on the Origin of Human Knowl- edge) > Upham's Mmtal Philosophj^ x^ppendix to Vol. IL Chap. I.— -Ed. 396 JUDGMENT. man, than those natural instincts which the Author of nature has given us to regulate our actions during that period* 9. The last principle of contingent truths I mention is, that, in the phenomena of nature, tohat is to be will probably be like to ivhat has been in similar circum- stances. We must have this conviction as soon as we are capable of learning any thing from experience ; for all experience is grounded upon a belief that the future will be like the past. Take away this principle, and fche experience of a hundred years makes us no wiser with regard to what is to come. This is one of those principles, which, when we grow up and observe the course of nature, we can confirm by reasoning. We perceive that natm*e is governed by fixed laws, and that, if it were not so, there could be no such thing as prudence in human conduct ; there would be no fitness in any means to promote an end; and what, on one occasion, promoted it, might as prob- ably, on another occasion, obstruct it. But the prin- ciple is necessary for us before we are able to discover it by reasoning, and therefore is made a part of our constitution, and produces its effects before the use of reason. This principle remains in all its force when we come to the use of reason ; but we learn to be more cautious in the application of it. We observe more carefully the circumstances on which the past event depended, and learn to distinguish them from those which were accidentally conjoined with it. In order to this, a num- ber of experiments, varied in their circumstances, is often necessary. Sometimes a single experiment is thought sufficient to establish a general conclusion. Thus, when it was once found that, in a certain degi'ee of cold, quicksilver became a hard and malleable metal. * See more on this topic in Campbell's Dissertation on Miracles, Part 1. Sect. I., and Chalmers's Evidences of the Christian Revdaiion, Book I. Chap. Ill— Ed. FIRST PRINCIPLES. 397 there was good reason to think, that the same degree of cold would always produce this effect to the end of the world. I need hardly mention, that the whole fabric of nat- ural philosophy is built upon this principle, and, if it be taken away, must tumble down to the foundation. Therefore the great Newton lays it down as an axiom, or as one of his laws of philosophizing, in these words : — Effectimm naturalium ejusdem generis easdem esse causas. This is what every man assents to as soon as he understands it, and no man asks a reason for it. It has therefore the most genuine marks of a first prin- ciple. It is very remarkable, that, although all our expecta- tion of what is to happen in the course of nature is derived from the belief of this principle, yet no man thinks of asking what is the ground of this belief. Mr. Hume, I think, was the first * who put this question ; and he has shown clearly and invincibly, that it is neither grounded upon reasoning, nor has that kind of intuitive evidence which mathematical axioms have. It is not a necessary truth. He has endeavoured to account for it upon his own principles. It is not my business at present to examine the account he has given of this universal belief of mankind ; because, whether his account of it be just or not (and I think it is not), yet, as this belief is univer- sal among mankind, and is not grounded upon any antecedent reasoning, but upon the constitution of the mind itself, it must be acknowledged to be a first prin- ciple, in the sense in which I use that word.f IV. First Principles of Necessary Truths.] About most of the first principles of necessary truths there has * Hume was not the first : but on the various opinions touching the ground of our expectancy, I cannot touch. — H. t Compare Stewart's Elements^ Part I. Cliap. IV. Sect. 5, and Essays^ Ess. II. Chap. II.; Brown's Philosophy of the Mind^ Lect. YL, and Cause and Effvct^ Parts III. and IV". ; and Bailey, On the Pursuit of Truths Essay III. — J. S- JMill contends for the empirical origin of this principle, System of Logic, Book III Chap. III. and XXI. — Ed. :vi 398 JUDGMENT. been no dispute, and therefore it is the less necessary to dwell upon them. It will be sufficient to divide them into different classes ; to mention some by way of specimenj in each class ; and to make some remarks on those of which the truth has been called in question. They may, I think, most properly be divided accord- ing to the sciences to which they belong. 1. There are some first principles that may be called gj'ammatical ; such as, that every adjective in a sentence must belong to some substantive expressed or understood ; that every complete sentence must have a verb. Those who have attended to the structure of lan- guage, and formed distinct notions of the nature and use of the various parts of speech, perceive, without reasoning, that these, and many other snch principles, are necessarily true. 2. There are logical axioms ; such as, that any con- texture of ivords^ ivhich does not make a proposition^ is neither true nor false ; that every proposition is either true or false ; that no proposition can be both true and false at the same time : that reasoning in a circle proves nothing ; that whatever may be truly affirm^ed of a genus^ may truly be affirmed of all the species and all the indi- viduals belonging to that genus, 3. Every one knows there are matheinatical axioms. Mathematicians have, from the days of Euclid, very wisely laid down the axioms or first principles on which they reason. And the effect which this appears to have had upon the stability and happy progress of this sci- ence gives no small encouragement to attempt to lay the foundation of other sciences in a similar m.anner, as far as we are able.* ^ Mr. Hume has discovered, as he apprehends, a weak side, even in mathematical axioms ; and thinks that it is not strictly true, for instance, that tiuo right lines can cut one another in one point only. The principle he On rnatlicmatical axioms, see Stewart's Elements, Part II. Chap. I. it. J' 2 ;. Wliewcirs Philosopin/ of the Jnductwe Sciences, Book II. Chap. V. ' Mills 6ys-^em of Logic^ Book II. Cha|» V. and YI. — Ed FIRST PRINCIPT.KS. 399 reasons from is, that e.^very simple idi^n is a copy of a preceding impression ; and therefore, isi lis precision and accuracy, can never go beyond its original. From which he reasons in this manner : — - No man ever saw or felt a line so straight, that it nright not cut another, equally straight, in two or more points. Therefore there can be no idea of such a line. The ideas jthat are most essential to geometry, such as those of equal- ity, of a straight line, and of a square surface, are far, he says, from being distinct and determinate ; and the definitions destroy the pretended demonstrations. Thus, mathematical demonstration is found to be a rope of sand. I agree with this acute author, that, if we could form no notion of points, lines, and surfaces more accurate than those we see and handle, there could be no mathe- matical demonstration. But every man that has under- standing, by analyzing, by abstracting, and compound- ing the rude materials exhibited by his senses, can fabricate, in his own mind, those elegant and accurate forms of mathemaiicpJ lines, surfaces, and solids. If a man finds himself incapable of forming a precise and determinate notion of the figure which mathematicians call a cube, he not only is no mathematician, but is incapable of being one. But if he has a precise and determinate notion of that figure, he must perceive that it is terminated by six mathematical surfaces, perfectly square, and perfectly equal. He must perceive that these surfaces are termJnated by twelve mathematical lines, perfectly straight, and perfectly equal, and that those lines are terminated by eight mathematical points. When a man is conscious of having these concep- tions distinct and determinate, as every mathematician is, it is in vain to bring metaphysical arguments to convince him that they are not distinct. You may as well bring arguments to convince a man racked with pain that he feels no pain. Every theory that is in- consistent with our having accurate notions of mathe- matical lines, surfaces, and solids, must be false. 4. I think there are axioms, even in 7naUers of taste. 400 , JUDGMENT, Notwithstanding the variety found among men, in taste, there are, I apprehend, some common principles, even in matters of this kind. I never heard of any man who thought it a beauty in a human face to want a nose, or an eye, or to have the mouth on one side. , How many ages have passed since the days of Homer? Yet, in this long tract of ages, there never was found a man who took Thersites for a beauty. The Fine Arts are very properly called the Arts of Taste.) because the principles of both are the same; and in the fine arts, we find no less agreement among those who practise them than among other artists. No work of taste can be either relished or understood by those who do not agree with the author in the princi- ples of taste. Homer, and Virgil, and Shakspeare, and Milton, had the same taste ; and all men who have been acquainted with their writings, and agree in the admiration of them, must have the same taste. The fundamental rules of poetry and music and painting, and dramatic action and eloquence, have been always the same, and will be so to the end of the world. The variety we find among men in matters of taste is easily accounted for, consistently with what we have advanced. There is a taste that is acquired.^ and a taste that is naturaL This holds with respect both to the external sense of taste and the internal. Habit and fashion have a powerful influence upon both. Of tastes that are natural, there are some that may be called rational., others that are- merely animal. Chil- dren are delighted with brilliant and gaudy colors, with romping and noisy mirth, with feats of agility, strength, or cunning; and savages have much the same taste as children. But there are tastes that are more intellec- tual. It is the dictate of our rational nature, that love and admiration are misplaced when there is no intrinsic worth in the object. In those operations of taste which are rational^ we judge of the real worth and excellence of the object, and our love or admiration is guided by that judgment. In such operations there is judgment as well as feeling, and the feeling depends upon the FIRST PRINCIPLI^S. 401 judgment we form of the object. I do not maintain that taste, so far as it is acquired, or so far as it is merely animal, can be reduced to principles. But as far as it is founded on judgment, it certainly may. The virtues, the graces, the muses, have a beauty that is intrinsic. It lies not in the feelings of the spectator, but in the real excellence of the object. If we do not perceive their beauty, it is owing to the defect or to the perversion of our faculties. And as there is an original beauty in certain m.oral and intellectual qualities, so there is a borroived and derived beauty in the natural signs and expressions of such qualities. The features of the human face, the modulations of the voice, and the proportions, attitudes, and gestures of the body, are all natural expressions of good or bad qualities of the person, and derive a beauty or a deformity from the qualities which they express. Works of art express some quality of the artist, and often derive an additional beauty from their utility or fitness for their end. Of such things there are some that ought to please, and others that ought to displease. If they do not, it is owing to some de- fect in the spectator. But what has real excellence will always please those who have a correct judgment and a sound heart. The sum of w^hat has been said upon this subject is, that, setting aside the tastes which men acquire by habit and fashion, there is a natural taste, which is partly animal and partly rational. With regard to the tirst, all we can say is, that the Author of nature, for wise reasons, has formed us so as to receive pleasure from the contemplation of certain objects, and disgust from others, before Ave are capable of perceiving any real excellence in one, or defect in the other. But that taste which we mav call ratloriaL is that part of our constitution by which w^e are made to receive pleasure from the contemplation of w^hat w'e conceive to be excellent in its kind, the pleasure being annexed to this judgment, and regulated by it. This taste may be true or false, according as it is founded on a true or 84* 402 JUDGMENT. false judgment. And if it may be true or false, it must have first principles.* 5. There are also first principles in morals. That an unjust action has more demerit than an ungenerous one ; that a generous action has more merit than a merely just one ; that no man ought to be blamed J^or luhat it tvas not in his poiver to hinder; th3.t -we ought not to do to others what ive luoidd think unjust or unfair to be done to us in like circumstances : these are moral axioms, and many others might be named which appear to me to have no less evidence than those of mathematics. Some perhaps may think, that our determinations, either in matters of taste or in morals, ought not to be accounted necessary truths : that they are grounded upon the constitution of that faculty which we call taste^ and of that which we call ihe moral sense or conscience ; which faculties might have been so con- stituted as to have given determinations different, or even. contrary, to those they now give : that, as there is nothing sweet or bitter in. itself, but according as it agrees or disagrees with the external sense called taste, so there is nothing beautiful or ugly in itself, but ac- cording as it agrees or disagrees with the internal sense, which we also call taste ; and nothing morally good or ill in itself, but according as it agrees or disa- grees with our moral sense. This, indeed, is a system, with regard to morals and taste, which has been supported in modern times by great authorities. And if this system be true, the con- sequence must be, that there can be no principles, either of taste or of morals, that are necessary truths. For, according to this system, all our determinations, both with regard to matters of taste and with regard to morals, are reduced to matters of fact^ — to such, I mean, as these, that by our constitution we have on * Compare-iCames's Elements of Criticism, Chap. XXV. ; Sir Joshua Reynolds's Discourses, Disc. VII. ; Edinburgh Revieic, Vol. XVIII. p. 43 et seq. ; Cousin Sur le Fondement des Idees Absolues, Leqons XIX. et XX. (Cousin's Chapters on Beauty have been transhated by J. C Daniel, The Philosophj of ike Beautiful) — Ed. FIRST PRINCIPLES. 403 such occasions certain agreeable feelings, and on other occasions certain disagreeable feelings. But I cannot help being of a contrary opinion, being persuaded that a man who determined that polite be- haviour has great deformity, and that there is a great beauty in rudeness and ill-breeding, would judge wrong, whatever his feelings were. In like manner, I cannot help thinking, that a man who determined that there is more moral worth in cruelty, perfidy, and injustice, than in generosity, justice, prudence, and temperance, would- judge wrong, whatever his constitution was. And if it be true that there is judgment in our deter- minations of taste and of morals, it must be granted that what is true or false in morals, or in matters of taste, is necessariljj so. For this reason, I have ranked the first principles of morals and of taste under the class of necessary truths.* 6. The last class of first principles I shall mention, we may call metaphysicciL I shall particularly consider three of these, because they have been called in question by Mr. Hume. (1.) The first is, that the qualities which we perceive by our senses must have a subject^ wldch ive call body, and that the thoughts tve are conscious of must have a subject^ luhich ive call mind. It is not more evident that two and two make four, than it is that figure cannot exist, unless there be some- thing that is figured, nor motion without something that is moved. I not only perceive figure and motion, but I perceive them to be qualities : they have a neces- sary relation to something in which they exist as their subject. The difficulty which some philosophers have found in admitting this, is entirely owing to the theory of ideas. A subject of the sensible qualities which we perceive by our senses, is not an idea either of sensation or of consciousness ; therefore, say they, we have no * Compare Bentham's Principles of Morals and Legislation, Chap. II. ; Jouffroy's Introduction to Ethics, Lect. XX. ; Whewcll's Lectures on Syste- matic Morality, Lect. II. and III. — Ed. 404 JUDGMENT. such idea. Or, in the style of Mr. Hume, From what imoression is the idea of substance derived? It is not a copy of any impression ; thereibre there is no such idea. The distinction between sensible qualities and the substance to which they belong, and between thought and the mind that thinks, is not the invention of phi- losophers ; it is found in the structure of all languages, and therefore must be common to all men who speak with understanding. And I believe no man, however skeptical he may be in speculation, can talk on the common affairs of life for half an honr, without saying things that imply his belief of the reality of these dis- tinctions. Mr. Locke acknowledges, " That we cannot conceive how sim.ple ideas of sensible qualities should subsist alone ; and therefore we suppose them to exist in, and to be supported by, some common subject." In his Essay^ indeed, some of his expressions seem to leave it dubious whether this belief that sensible qualities must have a subject be a true judgment, or a vulgar prejudice. But in his first letter to the Bishop of Wor- cester, he removes this doubt, and quotes miany pas- sages of his Erssay^ to show that he neither denied nor doubted of the existence of substances, both thinking and material ; and that he believed their existence on the same ground the Bishop did, to wit, " on the repug- nancy to our conceptions, that modes and accidents should subsist by themselves.^' He offers no proof of this repugnancy; nor, I think, can any proof of it be given, because it is a first principle. It were to be wished that Mr. Locke, who inquired so accurately and laudably into the origin, certainty, and extent of human knowledge, had turned his atten- tion more particularly to tbe origin of these two opin- ions which he firmly believed ; to wit, that sensible qualities must have a subject which we call body, and that thought must have a subject which we call mind. A due attention to these two opinions, which govern the belief of all men, even of skeptics in the practice FIRST PRINCIPT.KS. 405 of life, would probably have led him to perceive, that sensation and consciousness are not the only sources of human knowledge; and that there are principles of belief in human nature, of which we can give no other account but that tlieij necessarily result from the constitution of our faculties ; and that, if it were in our power to throw off their influence upon our practice and conduct, we could neither speak nor act like rea- sonable men.* (2.) The second metaphysical principle I mention is, that ivhatever begins to exist must have Oj cause ivhich produced it. With regard to this point, we must hold one of these three things ; either that it is an opinion for which lue have no evidence, and which men have foolishly taken up Avithout ground ; or that it is capable of direct proof by argument; or that it is self-evident, and needs no proof but ought to be received as an axiom which can- not by reasonable men be called in question. The first of these suppositions would put an end to all philosophy, to all religion, to all reasoning that would carry us beyond the objects of sense, and to all prudence in the conduct of life. As to the second supposition, that this principle may be proved by direct reasoning, I am afraid we shall find the proof extremely difficult, if not altogether impossi- ble. I know only of three or four arguments that have been urged by philosophers, in the way of abstract rea- soning, to prove that things w^hich begin to exist must have a cause. One is offered by Mr. Hobbes, another by Dr. Sam- uel Clarke, another by Mr. Locke. Mr. Hume, in his Treatise of Human Nature, Book I. Part III. Sect. III., has examined them all ; and, in my opinion, has shown that they take for granted the thing to be proved ; a * See Koyer-Collard, Fragments, YIII., appended to Jouffroy's (Euvres deReid, Tome IV. p. 300 ; Cousin's Elements of Psychology, Chap. III. ; Mill's Analysis, Chap. XI. — Ed. 406 JUDGMENT. kind of false reasoning which men are apt to fall intc when the)^ attempt to prove what is self-evident. It has been thought, that, although this principle does not admit of proof from abstract reasoning, it may be proved from experience, and may be justly drawn by iaduction from instances that fall loil/iin our observations, I conceive this m.ethod of proof would leave us in great uncertainty, for these three reasons : — First, Because the proposition to be proved is not a contingent but a necessary proposition. It is not, that things which begin to exist commonly have a cause, or even that they always in fact have a cause; but that they must have a cause, and cannot begin to exist wiihout a cause. Propositions of this kind, from their nature, are incapable of proof by induction. Ex- perience informs us only of what is or has been, not of what must be ; and the conclusion must be of the same nature with the premises. For this reason, no mathe- matical proposition can be proved by induction. Though it should be found by experience in a thousand cases that the area of a plane triangle is equal to the rec- tangle under the altitude and half the base, this would not prove that it must be so in all cases, and cannot be otherwise ; which is what the mathematician affirms. In like manner, though we had the most ample experi- mental proof that things which have begun to exist had a cause, this would not prove that they must have a cause. Experience may show us what is the estab- lished course of nature, but can never show what con- nections of things are in their nature necessary. Secondly, General maxims, grounded on experience, have only a degree of probability proportioned to the extent of our experience, and ought always to be un- derstood so as to leave room for exceptions^ if future experience shall discover any such. The law of gravi- tation has as full a proof from experience and induction as any principle can be supposed to have. Yet if any philosopher should, by clear experiment, show xnat there is a kind of matter in some bodies which does FIRST TRINCIPLES. 407 not gravitate, the law of gravitation ought to be limited by that exception. Now it is evident that men have never considered the principle of the necessity of causes as a truth of this kind, which may admit of limitation or exception ; and therefore it has not been received upon this kind of evidence. Tldrdlij, I do not see that experience could satisfy us that every change in nature actually has a cause. In the far greater part of the changes in nature that fall within our observation, tlie causes are unknoivn^ and therefore, from experience, we cannot know whether they have causes or not. Causation is not an object of sense. The only experience we can have of it is in the consciousness we have of exerting some power in ordering our thoughts and actions.* But this experi- ence is surely too narrow a foundation for a general conclusion, that all things that have had or shall have a beginning must have a cause. For these reasons, this principle cannot be drawn from experience^ any more than from abstract reasoninsf. The tiiird supposition is, that it is to be admitted as a first or self-evident principle. Two reasons may be urged for this. First. The universal consent of mankind^ not of phi- losophers only, but of the rude and unlearned vulgai\ Mr. Hume, as far as I know, was the first that ever expressed any doubt of this principle.! And when we consider that he has rejected every principle of human knowledge, excepting that of consciousness, and has not even spared the axioms of mathematics, his au- thority is of small weight. Setting aside the authority of Mr. Hume, what has philosophy been employed in, since men first began to * From this consciousness, many pliilosophers have, after Locke, en- deavoured to deduce our Avhole notion of causality. The ablest develop- ment of this theory is that of M. Maine de Biran [Examen d°s Lecons de Philosophie de M. Laromifjui^re, § 8, and Exposition de la Doctrine Pldhso- phique de Leibnitz] ; the ablest refutation of it, that of his friend and editor, M. Cousin [in his Preface to the fourth volume of (Euvres de Maine de Biran^ and in Elements of Psychology ^ Chap. IV.]. — H. t Hume was not the first. — H. 408 JUDGMENT. philosophize, but in the investigation of the causes of things ? This it has always professed, when we trace it to its cradle. It never entered into any man's thought, before the philosopher we have mentioned, to put the previous question, whether things have a cause or not. Had it been thought possible that they might not, it may be presumed, that, in the variety of absurd and contradictory causes assigned, some one would have had recourse to this hypothesis. They could conceive the world to arise from an egg, — from a struggle between love and strife, between moisture and drought, between heat and cold ; but they never supposed that it had no cause. We know not any atheistic sect that ever had recourse to this topic, though by it they might have evaded every argument that could be brought against them, and answered all objections to their system. But rather than adopt such an absurdity, they contrived some imaginary cause — such as chance, a concourse of atoms, or necessity — as the cause of the universe. ' - The accounts which philosophers have given of par- ticular phenomena, as well as of the universe in general, proceed upon the same principle. That every phe- nomenon must have a cause, was always taken for granted. Nil turpius physico^ says Cicero, quant fieri sine causa quicquam dicere. Though an Academic, he was dogmatical in this. And Plato, the father of the Academy, was no less so. Uavn yap dbvuaTov xcopk aXriov yiveoriv ex^iv (" It is impossible that any thing should have its origin without a cause"). — Timceus. Secondly, Another reason why I conceive this to be a first principle is, that mankind not only assent to it in speculation, but that the practice of life is grounded upon it in the most important matters, even in cases where experience leaves us doubtful ; and it is impossi- ble to act with common prudence if we set it aside. In great families there are so many bad things done by a certain personage called Nobody^ that it is prover- bial that there is a Nobody about every house who does a great deal of mischief ; and even where there is FIRST PRINCIPLES. 409 the exactest inspection and government, many events will happen of which no other author can be found : so that, if we trust merely to experience in this matter, Nobody will be found to be a very active person, and to have no inconsiderable share in the management of affairs. But whatever countenance this system may have from experience, it is too shocking to common sense to impose upon the most ignorant. A child knows, that, when his top or any of his playthings are taken away, it mast be done by somebody. Perhaps it would not be difficult to persuade him that it was done by some invisible being, but that it should be done by nobody he cannot believe. Suppose a man's house to be broken open, his money and jewels taken away. Such things have happened times innumerable without any apparent cause ; and were he only to reason from experience in such a case, how must he behave ? He must put in one scale the instances wherein a cause was found of such an event, and in the other scale the instances where no cause was found, and the preponderant scale must determine whether it be most probable that there was a cause of this event, or that there was none. Would any man of common understanding have recoui-se to such an expe- dient to direct his judgment? Suppose a man to be found dead on the highway, his skull fractured, his body pierced with deadly wounds, his watch and money carried off. The coroner's jury sits upon the body, and the question is put. What was the cause of this man's death, — was it accident, ox felo de se^ or murder by persons unknown ? Let us suppose an adept in Mr. Hume's philosophy to make one of the jury, and that he insists upon the previous question, — whether there was anv cause of the event, or whether it happened without a cause. Surely, upon Mr. Hume's principle^.;, a great deal might be said upon this point ; and, if the matter is to be determined by past experience, it is dubious on which side the weight of argument might stand. But we may venture to say, that, if Mr. Hume had been of 35 410 JUDGMENT, 4' such a jury, he would have laid aside his philosophical principles, and acted according to the dictates of com- mon prudence.* (3.) The third and last metaphysical principle I men- tion, which is opposed by the same author, is, that de- sign and intelligence in the cause may be inferred^ with certainty^ from marks or signs of them in the effect. Intelligence, design, and skill are not objects of the external senses, nor can we be conscious of them in any person but ourselves. Even in ourselves, we cannot^ with propriety, be said to be conscious of the natural or acquired talents we possess. We are conscious only of the operations of mind in which they are exerted. Indeed, a man comes to know his own mental abilities, just as he knows another man's, by the effects they produce, when there is occasion to put them to exer- cise. A man's wisdom is known to us only by the signs of it in his conduct ; his eloquence, by the signs of it in his speech. In the same manner we judge of his vir- tue, of his fortitude, and of all his talents and qualities of mind. Yet it is to be observed, that we judge of men's talents with as little doubt or hesitation as we judge of the immediate objects of sense. One person, we are sure, is a perfect idiot ; another, who feigns idiotism to screen himself from punishment, is found upon trial to have the understanding of a man, and to be accountable for his conduct. We perceive one man to be open, another cunning ; one to be ignorant, an- other very knowing ; one to be slow of understanding, another quick. Every man forms such judgments of ■'* As has been intimated more tlian once, Mr. Hume did not lay down liis conclusions as true, as something to be believed, — for he was askepticj and not a believer, — but as following inevitably from the assumptions of the dogmatists. It is the triumiDh of skepticism to show that speculation and practice are irreconcilable. On the principle of causality^ consult Hutton's Investigation of the Princi- Buok lii. Chap. XXI.: Bowcn's Lowell Lectures, Lcct. IV. and VL — Ed, FIRST PRINCIPLES* 411 those he converses with ; and the common affah's of life depend upon such judgments. We can as little avoid them as we can avoid seeing what is before our eyes. From this it appears, that it is no less a part of the human constitution to judge of men's characters, and of their intellectual powers, from the signs of them in their actions and discourse, than to judge of corporeal objects by our senses ; that such judgments are com- mon to the whole human race that are endowed with understanding ; and that they are absolutely necessary in the conduct of life. Now, every judgment of this kind we form is only a particular application of the general principle, that in- telligence, wisdom, and other mental qualities in the cause, may be inferred from their marks or signs in the effect. The actions and discourses of men are effects, of which the actors and speakers are the causes. The effects are perceived by our senses ; but the causes are behind the scene. We only conclude their existence and their degrees from our observation of the effecis. From wdse conduct we infer wisdom in the cause ; from brave actions we infer courage ; and so in other cases. This inference is made with perfect security by all men. We cannot avoid it ; it is necessary in the or- dinary conduct of life ; it has therefore the strongest marks of being o. first principle. Perhaps some may think that this principle may be learned either by reasonings or by experience ^ and there- fore that there is no ground to think it a first principle. If it can be shown to be got by reasonings by all or the greater part of those who are governed by it, I shall very readily acknowledge that it ought not to be es- teemed a first principle. But I apprehend the contrary appears from very convincing arguuGLents. First The principle is too universal to be the effect of reasoning. It is common to philosophers and to the vulgar ; to the learned and to the most illiterate ; to the civilized and to the savage : and of those who are ^-- .1 412 JUDGMENT. governed by it, not one in ten thousand can give a rea- son for it. Secondly, We find philosophers, ancient and modern, who can reason excellently on subjects that admit of reasoning, when they have occasion to defend this prin- ciple, not oflering reasons for it, or any medium of proof, but appealing to the common sense of mankind ; men- tioning particular instances, to make the absurdity of the contrary opinion more apparent, and sometimes using the weapons of wit and ridicule, which are very proper weapons for refuting absurdities, but altogether improper in points that are to be determined by rea- soning. To confirm this observation, I shall quote two au- thors, an ancient and a modern, who have more ex- pressly undertaken the defence of this principle than any others I remember to have met with, and whose good sense and ability to reason, where reasoning is proper, will not be doubted. The first is Cicero, whose words. Lib. I. Cap. 13, De Divinatione, may be thus translated : — " Can any thing done by chance have all the marks of design ? Four dice may, by chance, turn up four aces ; but do you think that four hundred dice, thrown by chance, will turn up four hundred aces ? Colors thrown upon can- vas without design may have some similitude to a hu- man face ; but do you think they might make as beau- tiful a picture as that of the Coan Venus ? A hog turning up the ground with his nose may make some- thing of the form of the letter A ; but do you think that a hog might describe on the ground the ' Andromache ' of Ennius? Carneades imagined, that in the stone quarries at Chios he found, in a stone that was split, a representation of the head of a little Pan, or sylvan deity. I believe he might find a figure not unlike ; but surely not such a one as you would say had been formed by an excellent sculptor like Scopas. For so, verily, the case is, that chance never perfectly imitates design." Thus Cicero.* Sec also ]iis De Nafnut Tkorinn, Lib. II. Cap. 37 — H. FIRST PKINCIPLES. 413 Now, in all this discourse, I see very good sense, and what is apt to convince every unprejudiced mind ; but I see not in the whole a single step of reasoning. It is barely an appeal to every nman's common sense. Let us next see how the same point is handled by the excellent Archbishop Tillotson, Works^ Vol. I. Ser- mon I. — " For I appeal to any man of reason, v\^hether any thing can be more unreasonable, than obstinately to impute an effect to chance which carries on the face of it all the arguments and characters of design ? Was ever any considerable work, in which there was required a great variety of parts, and an orderly and regular ad- justment of these parts, done by chance ? Will chance fit means to ends, and that in ten thousand instances, and not fail in any one? How often might a man, after he had jumbled a set of letters in a bag, fling them out upon the ground before they would fall into an exact poem, yea, or so much as make a good dis- course in prose ? And may not a little book be as easily made as this great volume of the world ? How long might a man sprinkle colors upon canvas with a careless hand before they would make the exact picture of a man? And is a man easier made by chance than his picture ? How long might twenty thousand blind men, which should be sent out from the remote parts of England, wander up and down before they would all meet upon Salisbury plains, and fall into rank and file in the exact order of an army ? And yet this is much more easy to be im.agined than how the innumerable blind parts of the matter should rendezvous themselves into a world. A man that sees Henry the Seventh's chapel at Westminster might with as good reason maintain (yea, and much better, considering the vast difference between that little structure and the huge fabric of the world), that it was never contrived or built by any man, but that the stones did by chance grow into those curious figures into which we see them to have been cut and graven ; and that upon a time (as tales usually begin), the materials of that building, the stone, mortar, timber, iron, lead, and glass, happily met 35* 414 JUDGMENT. together, and very fortunately ranged themselves into that delicate order in which we see them novN/' so close compacted, that it must be a very great chance that parts them again. Wha.t woold the world think of a man that should advance such an opinion as this, and write a book for it ? If they would do him right, they ought to look upon him as mad.'' In this passage, the excellent author takes what I conceive to be the proper method of refuting an absurd- ity, by exposing it in different lights, in which every man of common understanding perceives it to be ridic- ulous. And although there is much good sense, as Vn^cII as wit, in the passage I have quoted, I cannot find one medium of proof in the whole. I have met with one or two respectable authors who draw an argument from the doctrine of chances^ to show how improbable it is that a regular arrangement of parts should be the effect of chance, or that it should not be the effect of design. I do not object to this reasoning ; but I would observe, that the doctrine of chances is a branch of mathematics little more than a hundred years old, while the conclusion in question has been held by all men from the beginning of the world. It cannot, therefore, be thought, that men were origi- nally led to this conclusion by that reasoning. Indeed, it may be doubted whether the first principle upon which all the mathematical reasoning about chances is grounded is more self-evident than this conclusion drawn from it, or whether it is not a particular instance of that general conclusion. We are next to consider whether we may not learn from experience^ that effects which have all the marks and tokens of design must proceed from a designing cause. I apprehend that we cannot learn this truth from ex- perience, for two reasons. First, Because it is a necessary truth, not a contin- gent one. It agrees with the experience of mankind since the beginning of the world, that the area of a triangle is equal to half the rectangle under its base FIRST PRINCIPLES, 415 and perpendicular. It agrees no less with experience, that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. So far as experience goes, these truths are upon an equal footing. But every man perceives this distinction be- tween them, that the first is a necessary truth, and that it is impossible it should not be true; but the last is not necessary, but contingent, depending upon the will of Him w^ho made the world. As we cannot learn from experience that twice three must necessarily make six, so neither can we learn from experience that certain effects must proceed from a designing and intelligent cause. Experience informs us only of what has been, but never of what must be. Secondly, It may be observed, that experience can show a connection between a sign, and the thing signi- fied by it, in those cases only, where both the sign and the thing' signified are perceived, and have always been perceived in conjunction. But if there be any case where the sign only is perceived, experience can never show its connection with the thing signified. Thus, for example, thought is a sign of a thinking principle or mind. But how do we know that thought cannot be without a mind ? If any man should say that he knows this by experience, he deceives himself. It is impossible he can have any experience of this; because, though we have an immediate knowledge of the ex- istence of thought in ourselves by consciousness, yet we have no immediate knowledge of a mind. The mind is not an immediate object either of sense or of consciousness. We may therefore justly conclude, that the necessary connection between thought and a mind, or thinking being, is not learned from experience. The same reasoning may be applied to the connec- tion between a work excellently fitted for some pur- pose, and design in the author or cause of that work. One of these — to wit, the work — may be an imme- diate object of perception. But the design and purpose of the author cannot be an immediate object of per- ception ; and therefore experience can never inform us of any connection between the one and the other, far less of a necessary connection. 416 JUDGMENT. Thus I think it appears, that the principle we have been considering — to wit, that, from certain signs or indications in the effect, we may infer that there must have been intelligence, wisdom, or other intellectual or moral qualities in the cause — is a principle which we get neither by reasoning nor by experience ; and there- fore, if it be a true principle, it must be a first princi- ple. There is in the human understanding a light, by which we see immediately the evidence of it, when there is occasion to apply it. Of how great importance this principle is in com- mon life, we have already observed. And I need hardly mention its importance in natural theology. The clear marks and signatures of wisdom, power, and goodness, in the constitution and government of the world, is, of all arguments that have been advanced for the being and providence of the Deity, that which in all ages has made the strongest impression upon candid and thinking minds ; an argument which has this peculiar advantage, that it gathers strength as human knowledge advances, and is more convincing at present than it was some centuries ago. King Alphonso might say, that he could contrive a better planetary system than that which astronomers held in his day.* That system was not the work of God, but the fiction of men. But since the true system of the sun, moon, and planets has been discovered, no man, however a^theistically disposed, has pretended to show how a better could be contrived. When we attend to the marks of good contrivance which appear in the works of God, every discovery we make in the constitution of the material or intellectual system becomes a hymn of praise to the great Creator and Governor of the world. And a man who is pos- * Alplionso X. of Castile. He flourished in the thirteenth century, — a great mathematician and astronomer. To him we owe the Alphonsine Tables. His saying was not so pious and philosophical as Reid states ; but that, " had he been present with God at the creation, he could have supplied some useful hints towards the better ordering of the universe." — H. FIRST PRINCIPLES. 417 gessed of the genuine spirit of philosophy will think it impiety to contaminate the Divine workmansliip, l)y mixing it with those fictions of human fancy called theories and hypotheses, which will always bear the signatm-es of human folly, no less than the other bears those of Divine wisdom. I know of no person who ever called in question the principle now under our consideration, when it is ap- plied to the actions and discourses of men : for this \vould be to deny that we have any means of discern- ing a wise man from an idiot, or a man that is illiter- ate in the highest degree from a man of knowdedge and learning, which no man has had the effrontery to do. But, in all ages, those Avho have been unfriendly to the principles of religion have made attempts to weaken the force of the argument for the existence and perfections of the Deity, which is founded on this prin- ciple. That argument has got the name of the Arg'ii- nient from Final Causes ; and, as the meaning of this name is well understood, Vv^e shall use it. The argument from final causes, when reduced to a syllogism, has these two premises : — Firsts that design and intellig'enae in the cause may^ ivith certainty^ he in- f erred from marks or signs of them in the effect. This is the principle we have been considering, and we may call it the major proposition of the argument. The second, which we call the minor proposition, is, that there are in fact the clearest marks of design and ivis- dom in the works of nature. The conclusion is, that the tvoi'ks of nature are the effects of a ivise and intelligent cause. One must either assent to the conclusion, or deny one or other of the premises. Those among the ancients who denied a God or a providence seem to me to have yielded the major prop- osition, and to have denied the minor ; conceiving that there are not in the constitution of things such marks of wise contrivance as are sufficient to put the conclu- sion beyond doubt. This, I think, we may learn from the reasoning of Cotta the Academic, in the third book of Cicero, Of the Nature of the Gods. 418 JUDGMENT. The gradual advancement made in the knowledge of nature has put this opinion quite out of countenance. When the structure of the human body was much less known than it is now, the famous Galen saw such evident marks of wise contrivance in it, that, though he had been educated an Epicurean, he renounced that system, and wTote his book Of the Use of the Parts of the Human Body^ on purpose to convince others of what appeared so clear to himself, that it was impos- sible that such admirable contrivance should be the effect of chance. Those, therefore, of later times, who are dissatisfied with this argument from final causes, have quitted the stronghold of the ancient atheists, which had become untenable, and have chosen rather to make a defence against the major proposition. Descartes seems to have led the way in this, though he was no atheist. But, having invented some new arguments for the being of God, he was perhaps led to disparage those that had been used before, that he might bring more credit to his own.* Or perhaps he * The following succinct statement of Descartes's proofs of a Deity \^ translated from the Dictionnaire des Sciences Philosophiques, Art. Dieu. " The ontological proofs as it is called by Kant, has for its principle the idea of an absolutely perfect being It was first adduced in the Proslogium of St. Anselm, the argument of which, originally conceived under the form of a prayer, may be stated thus : — All men have the idea of God, — even those who deny it ; for they cannot deny that of which they have no idea. The idea of God is the idea of a being absolutely perfect, one whom we cannot imagine to have a superior. Now the idea of such a being necessarily implies existence ; otherwise we might imagine another being, who, by the superaddition of existence to the perfection of the first, would thereby excel him ; that is to say, excel one who, by supposition, is absolutely perfect. Consequently, we cannot conceive the idea of God without being constrained to believe that he exists. Descartes, evidently without any acquaintance with his predecessor of the eleventh century, fell on the same proof; but, by the manner in whicli he developed it, he has made it more legitimate, and saved it, in advance, from the formidable objection of Kant. In fact, the philosopher of the Middle Age, and, fol- lowing in the same steps, Cudworth and Leibnitz, confined themselves wholly to the idea of perfection, thinking to make the notion of existence come out of that alone by way of deduction and analysis ; but they did not show how this idea is indissolubly connected with experience, or the perception of reality, that is to say, of facts, and imposed on our mind as the condition even of reality and of facts, as a necessary and irresistible belief, and not as a pure conception, or a supposition invented at pleasure FIRST PRINCIPLES. 419 was offended with the Peripatetics, because they often mixed final causes with physical, in order to account for the phenomena of nature. What they failed to do, Descartes has done. Taking for his point of de- parture an incontestable fact, an immediate verity, our own existence, Descartes ascends to tlie belief in a being absolutely perfect. The latter belief is not deduced from the former ; it is given us, it is imposed upon us, immediately and at the same time with the former. The Cartesian argu- ment under its first form, such as we fmd it in the Discourse de la 3Icthode, may be expressed thus: — As soon as I perceive myself, an imperfect being, to exist, I have the idea of a perfect being, and am under the neces- sity of admitting that this idea has been imparted to me by a being who is actually perfect, who really possesses all the perfections of which I have some idea, — that is to say, who is God. In another place (3^ Meditation) Descartes has combined the idea of perfection with the principle of cau- sality : — I do not exist by myself; for if I were the cause of my own ex- istence I should have given myself all the perfections of which I have an idea. I exist then by another, and this being by whom I exist is all- perfect; otherwise I should be able to apply to him the same reasoning which I have just applied to myself It is the argument of St. Anselm, and not that of Descartes, which Leibnitz has reduced to the form of a regular syllogism, and which has since been attacked by Kant, in his Critic of Pure Reason. The syllogism of Leibnitz is as follows : — A beirifj from whose essence ive can conclude existence^ exists in fact^ if it is possible. This proposition, as it is an identical axiom, needs no proof. Now God is such a being that we can infer from his essence his existence. This, also, as it is the definition of God, stands in no need of proofs. Therefore., if God is possible, God exists. — Nouveaiix Essais, Liv. IV. § 7. Here, however, it is proper to remark that what Leibnitz thought to add to the Proslocjluni had been added before by Cudworth, using nearly the same words. — Intel- lectual System, Chap. Y.'Sect. L, Harrison's edit., Vol. HI. p. 39. " Another proof, wholly due to Descartes (Discours de la Mithode, 4^ Partie, and 3^ Meditation)^ is that which is drawn from the idea of the in- finite. It has received from the author of the Meditations the same form as the preceding, with which it is blended. It is presented to us, therefore, as an immediate or first principle of reason, of which we have cognizance as soon as we arrive at consciousness of ourselves, and which we can no more call into doubt than our own existence. At the same time, says Descartes, that I perceive myself as a finite being, I have the idea of an infinite being. This idea, from which I cannot withdraw myself, and which is derived from no other idea, comes to me neither from myself nor from any other finite being; for how could the finite produce the idea of the infinite ? Therefore it has been imparted to me by a being really in- finite. Hence we see that the Infinite, such as Descartes conceives it, is not an abstract notion, applicable indiscriminately to all things : it is^ the very principle of our ideas, — that is to say, of reason and of thought.'' See the same article for a statement of "three other forms of the meta- physical argument for the Divine existence. This argument is not in favor among English theologians generally : but those who liave adopted it are among the most distinguished, — such as Henry More. Dr. Samuel Clarke, and Bishop Butler. The popular ob.jections chiefly insisted on at the present day are not nev/. Sec also L. F. Aiu-illon, Judicium de Judiciis 420 JUDGMENT. He maintained^ therefore, that physical causes only should be assigned for phenomena ; that the philoso- pher has nothing to do with final causes ; and that it is presumption in us to pretend to determine for what end any work of nature is framed. Some of those who were great admirers of Descartes, and foUo^wed him in many points, differed from him in this, particu- larly Dr. Henry More and the pious Archbishop Fene- lon : but others, after the example of Descartes, have shown a contempt of all reasoning from final causes. Among these, I think, we miay reckon Maupertuis and Buffon. But the most direct attack has been made upon this principle by Mr. Hume, who puts an argu- ment in the mouth of an Epicurean, on which he seems to lay great stress. The argument is, that the universe is a singular effect, and therefore we can draw no conclusion from it, whether it may have been made by wisdom or not. If I understand the force of this argument, it amounts to this, — that if we had been accustomed to see worlds produced, some by wisdom and others luithout it^ and had observed that such a world as this which we inhabit was always the effect of wisdom, we might then, from past experience, conclude that this world was made by wisdom ; but having no such experience, we have no means of forming any conclusion about it. That this is the strength of the argument appears, because, if the marks of wi»sdom seen in one world be no evidence of wisdom, the like marks seen in ten thousand will give as little evidence, unless, in time past, we perceived luisdom itself conjoined with the tokens of it ; and, from their perceived conjunctioi^x in time past, conclude, that although, in the present world, we see only one of the two, the other must ac- company it. circa Argumentum Cartesiiim pro Existentia Dei; Bouchitte, Histoire des Preuves de V Existence de Dieu^ published in Memoires de VAcademie Royale des Sciences Morales et Politiques, Tome I., Savants Etrangers ; Crombie's Naturcd Theology, Chap. I. ; Turton's Natural Theology considered ivith Ref- erence to Lord Brougham? s Discourse on that Subject, Sect. V. — Ed. FIRST PRINCIPLES. 421 Whence it appears, that this reasoning of Mr. Hume is built on the supposition, that our inferring design from the strongest marks of it is entirely owing to our past experience of having' ahoays found these two things conjoined. But I hope I have made it evident that this is not the case. And indeed it is evident, that, accord- ing to this reasoning, we can have no evidence of mind or design in any of our fellow-men. How do I know that any man of my acquaintance has understanding? I never saw his understanding. I see only certain effects, which my judgment leads me to conclude to be marks and tokens of it. But, says the skeptical philosopher, you can conclude nothing from these tokens, unless past experience has informed you that such tokens are always joined, with understanding. Alas ! Sir, it is impossible I can ever have this experience. The understanding of another man is no immediate object of sight, or of any other faculty which God has given me ; and unless I can conclude its existence from tokens that are visible, I have no evidence that there is understanding in any man. It seems, then, that the man who maintains that there is no force in the argument from final causes, must, if he will be consistent, see no evidence of the existence of any intelligent being but himself.* * Compare Kant's Critic of Pure Reason^ Third Division of the Second Book of Transcendental Dialectic ; Lord Brougham's Discourse on Natural Theologij, 'Part I.; Baden Powell's Connection of Natural and Divine Truth, Sect, ill., IV. ; Whewell's Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences^ Fart I. Book IX. Chap. VI. ; Hume's Dialogues concerning Natural Religion ; Irons's Whole Doctrine of Final Causes; Bowen's Lowell Lectures, JjQct. IX.. See, also, the works by Bouchitte, Crombie, and Turton, referred to in the last note. — Ed. 3P ESSAY VIL OF REASONING CHAPTER I. OF EEASONING IN GENERAL, AND OF DEMONSTRATION. I. Of Reasoning' in General^ as distinguished from Judgment.] The power of reasoning is very nearly al- lied to that oi judging ; and it is of little consequence in the common affairs of life to distinsjnish. them nicely. On this account, the same name is often given to both. We include both under the name of reason!^ The as- * " Reason (\6yos-, ratlo^ raison, Yernunft) is a very vague, vacillating, and equivocal word. Throwing aside various accidental significations which it has obtained in particular languages, as in Greek denoting not only the ratio, but the oratio, of the Latins ; throwing aside its employment, in most languages, for cause, motive, argiunent, principle of probation, or middle term of a syllogism, and considering it only as a philosophical word denoting a faculty, or complement of faculties ; — in this relation it is found emplo3^ed in the following meanings, not only by different individuals, but frequently, to a greater or less extent, by the same philosopher. "It has, both in ancient and modern times, been very commonly em- ployed, like understanding and intellect, to denote our intelligent nature in general (XoytKov fxepos) j and this usually as distinguished from the lower cognitive faculties, as sense, imagination, memory, — but always, and em- phatically, as in contrast to the feelings and desires. In this signification, to follow the Aristotelic division, it comprehends, — 1°, conception^ or simple apprehension {evvoia^ votjctls tcov ddiaLpercov-, conceptus, conceptio, apprehensio simplex, das Begreifen) ; — 2*^, the compositive and divisive process, affirmation and negation, judgment {(Tvvdeo-LS Ka\ dtaipeo'ts', aTTocfyavcrLS , jiidiciu77i) ; — 3°, reasoning or the discursive faculty {biavoLa, \6yo?, Xoyto^/xos", rb crvWoyi- ^€cr6aL, discursus, ratiocinatio) ; — 4*-"*, intellect or intelligence proper either as the intuition, or as the place, of principles or self-evident truths (pov^. in- tellectus, intelligentia, mens). " It has not unfreqiiently been employed to comprehend the tJurd and fourth of ihQ special functions above enumerated, — to wit, the dianoetic OF DRMONSTRATION. 423 sent we give to a proposition is called judgment, wheth- er the proposition be self-evident, or derive its evi- dence by reasoning from other propositions. Yet there is a distinction between reasoning and judging. Rea- soning is the process by which tve pass from one judg-- ment to another tohich is the consequence of it. Accord- and noetic. In this meaning it is taken by E-eicl in his later works. Thus, in the Intellectual Powers, he states that reason, in its first office or degree (the noetic), is identical with common sense, — in its second (tlie dianoetic), with reasoning, " It has very generally, both in ancient and modern philosophy, been employed for the third of the above special functions ; — Xoyo? and XoyLafios, ratio and ratiocinatio, reason and reasoning, being thus compounded, " In the ancient systems it was very rarely used exclusively for the fourth special function, the noetic, in contrast to the dianoetic. Aristotle, indeed {Eth. Nic, Lib. VI. c. 12; Eth. Eud., Lib. V. c 8), expressly says that reason is not the faculty of principles, that faculty being intelligence proper. Boethius {De Cons. Phil., Lib. V, Pr. 5) states that reason or discursive in- tellect belongs to man, while intelligence or intuitive intellect is the exclusive attribute of Divinity ; while Porphyry somewhere says that ' we have intel- ligence in common with the gods, and reason in common with the brutes."* Sometimes, however, it was apparently so employed. Thus St. Augustine seems to view reason as the faculty of intuitive truths, and as opposed to reasoning (De Quant. An., § 53 ; De Immort. An., §§ 1, 10). This, however, is almost a singular exception. " In modern times, though we frequently meet with reason, as a general faculty, distinguished from reasoning, as a particular, yet, until Kant, I am not aware that reason ( Vemunft) was ever exclusively, or even emphatically, used in a signification corresponding to the noetic faculty, in its strict and special meaning, and oj)posed to under stayiding (Verstand) viewed as com- prehending the other functions of thought, — unless Crusius ( Weg, &.C., § 62 etseq.) maybe regarded as Kant's forerunner in this innovation. In- deed, the Vernunft of Kant, in its special signification (for he also uses it for reason in the first or more general meaning, as indeed nothing can be more vague and various than his employment of the word), cannot without considerable qualification be considered analogous to vovs.> far less to com- mon sense; though his usurpation of the term for the facultg of principles probably determined Jacobi (who had originally, like philosophers in gen- eral, confounded Vernunft with Verstand, reason with i^easoning) to appro- priate the term reason to what he had at first opposed to it, under the name oi belief (Glaube). " Kant's abusive employment of the tei*m reason, for the faculty of the Unconditioned, determined also its adoption, under the same signification, in the philosophy of Pichte, Schelling, and Hegel : though vovs, intellectus., intelligentia, which had been applied by the Phitonists in a similar sense, were (through Verstand, by which they had been always lendered into German) the only words suitable to express that cognition of the Absolute, in whicii subject and object, knowledge and existence, God and man, are supposed to be identified " Abridged tVoin Sir \Y. Hainiiton's Note A, § 5. — Ed. 424 REASONING. iiigly, our judgments are distinguished into intuitive, which are not grounded upon any preceding judgment, and discursive^ which are deduced from some preceding judgment by reasoning. In all reasoning, therefore, there must be a proposi- tion inferred, and one or more from which it is inferred. And this power of inferring, or drawing a conclusion, is only another name for reasoning ; the proposition in- ferred being called the conclusion^ and the proposition or propositions from which it is inferred, the premises. Keasoning may consist of many steps ; the first con- clusion being a premise to a second, that to a third, and so on, till we come to the last conclusion. A pro- cess consisting of many steps of this kind is so easily distinguished from judgment, that it is never called by that name. But when there is only a single step to the conclusion, the distinction is less obvious, and the pro- cess is sometimes called judgment, sometimes reason- It is not strange, that, in common discourse, judg- ment and reasoning should not be very nicely distin- guished, since they are in some cases confounded even by logicians. We are taught in logic, that judgment is expressed by one proposition, but that reasoning re- quires two or three. But so various are the modes of speech, that what in one mode is expressed by two or three propositions may in another mode be expressed by one. Thus I may say, God is good; therefore good men shall be happy. This is reasoning, of that kind which logicians call an enthijmem^ consisting of srn an- tecedent proposition, and a conclusion drawn from it. But this reasoning may be expressed by one proposi- tion, thus : Because God is good^ good men shall he happy. This is what they call a causal proposition^ and therefore expresses judgment ; yet the enthymem, which is reasoning, expresses no more. Reasoning, as well as judgment, must be true or false ; both are grounded upon evidence which may be probable or denionstrative, and both are accompanied with assent or belief. OF DKMOXSTRATTON. 425 The power of reasoning is jastly accounted one of the prerogatives of human nature ; because by it many important truths have been and may be discovered, which without it would be beyond our reach ; yet it seems to be only a kind of crutch to a limited under standing. We can conceive an understanding, superior to human, to which that truth appears intuitively which we can only discover by reasoning. For this cause, though we must ascribe judgment to the Almighty, we do not ascribe reasoning to him, because it implies some defect or limitation of understanding. Even among men, to use reasoning in things that are self- evident is trifling; like a man going upon crutches when he can walk upon his legs. What reasoning is can be understood only by a man who has reasoned, and who is capable of reflecting upon this operation of his own mind. We can define it only by synonymous words or phrases, such as infer- ring^ drawing' a conclusion^ and the like. The very no- tion of reasoning, therefore, can enter into the mind by no other channel than that of reflecting upon the opera- tion of reasoning in our own minds ; and the notions of premises and conclusion, of a syllogism and all its constituent parts, of an enthymem, sorites, demonstra- tion, paralogism, and many others, have the same ori- The exercise of reasoning on various subjects, not only strengthens the faculty, but furnishes the mind with a store of materials. Every train of reasoning which is familiar becomes a beaten track in the way to many others. It removes many obstacles which lay in our way, and smooths many roads which we may have occasion to travel in future disquisitions. When men of equal natural parts apply their reasoning power to any subject, the man who has reasoned much on the same or on similar subjects has a like advantage over him Vv^ho has not, as the mechanic who has store of tools for his work has over him who has his tools to make, or even to invent. In a train of reasoning, the evidence of every step, 36* 426 REASONING. where nothing is left to be supplied by the reader or hearer, must be immediately discernible to every man of ripe understanding luho lias a distinct comprehension of the premises and. conclusion, and ivho compares them to- gether. To be able to comprehend, in one view, a com- bination of steps of this kind, is more difficult, and seems to require a superior natural ability. In all, it may be much improved by habit. But the highest talent in reasoning is the invention of proofs ; by which, truths remote from the premises are brought to light. In all works of understanding, inven- tion has the highest praise ; it requires an extensive view of what relates to the subject, and a quickness in discerning those affinities and relations which may be subservient to the purpose. In all invention there must be some end in view : and sagacity in finding out the road that leads to this end is, I think, what we call invention. In this chiefly, as I apprehend, and in clear and distinct conceptions, con- sists that superiority of understanding which we call genius. In every chain of reasoning, the evidence of the last conclusion can be no greater than that of the lueakest link of the cliain, whatever may be the strength of the rest. 11. Of Demonstrative Reasoning.] The most remark- able distinction of reasonings is, that some are probable^ others demonstrative. In every step of demonstrative reasoning, the infer- ence is necessary, and we perceive it to be impossible that the conclusion should not follow from the premises. In probable reasoning, the connection between the premises and the conclusion is not necessary, nor do we perceive it to be impossible that the first should be true while the last is false. Hence demonstrative reasoning has no degrees, nor can one demonstration be stronger than another, though, in relation to our faculties, one may be more easily Comprehended than another. Every demonstration OF DEMONSTRATION. 427 gives equal strength to the conclusion, and leaves no possibility of its being false. It was, I think, the opinion of all the ancients, that demonstrative reasoning can be applied only to truths that are necessary, and not to those that are contin- gent. In this, I believe, they judged right. Of all created things, the existence, the attributes, and conse- quently the relations resulting from those attributes, are contingent. They depend upon the will and power of him who made them. These are matters of fact ^ and admit not of demonstration. The field of demonstrative reasoning, therefore, is the various relations of things abstract^ that is, of things which we conceive, without regard to their existence. Of these, as they are conceived by the mind, and are nothing but what they are conceived to be, we may have a clear and adequate comprehension. Their re- lations and attributes are necessary and immutable. They are the things to which the Pythagoreans and Platonists gave the name of ideas. 1 would beg leave to borrow this meaning of the word idea from those ancient philosophers, and then I must agree with them, that ideas are the only objects about which we ean reason demonstratively. There are many even of our ideas about which we can carry on no considerable train of reasoning. Though they be ever so well defined and perfectly comprehend- ed, yet their agreements and disagreements are few, and these are discerned at once. We may go a step or two in formino' a conclusion Avith remrd to such ob- jects, but can go no farther. There are others, about which we may, by a long train of demonstrative reason- ing, arrive at conclusions very remote and unexpected. The reasonino's I have met with that can be called strictly demonstrative may, I think, be reduced to two classes. They are either 'metapliysical.) or they are maih- ematical. In metaphysical reasoning, the process is always short. The conclusion is but a step or two, seldom more, from the first principle or axiom on which it is 428 REASONING. grounded, and the different conckisions depend not one upon another. It is otherwise in roathematical reasoning. Here the field has no limits. One proposition leads on to another, that to a third, and so on without end. If it should be asked, why demonstrative reasoning has so wide a field in mathematics, while, in other abstract subjects, it is confined within very narrow limits, I conceive this is chiefly ovAdng to the nature of qiiantity^ the object of mathematics. Every quantity, as it has magnitude, and is divisible into parts without end, so, in respect of its magnitude, it has a certain ratio to every quantity of the kind. The ratios of quantities are innumerable, such as, a half, a third, a tenth, double, triple. All the powers of number are insufficient to express the variety of ratios. For there are innumerable ratios which cannot be per- fectly expressed by numbers, snch as the ratio of the side to the diagonal of a square, of the circumference of a circle to the diameter. Of this infinite variety of ratios, every one may be clearly conceived, and dis- tinctly expressed, so as to be in no danger of being mis- taken for any other. Extended quantities, such as lines, surfaces, solids, besides the variety of relations they have in respect of magnitude, have no less varietj in respect of figure; and every mathematical figure may be aceurately defined^ so as to distinguish it from all others. There is nothing of this kind in other objects of ab- stract reasoning:. Some of them have various desfrees ; but these are not capable of measure^ nor can they be said to have an assignable ratio to others of the kind. They are either simple, or compounded of a few indivisible parts ; and therefore, if we may be allowed the expres- sion, can touch only in few points. But mathematical quantities, being made up of parts without number, can touch in innumerable points, and be compared in innu- merable different ways. There have been attempts made to measure the merit of actions by the ratios of the affections and principles OF DEMONSTRATION. 429 of action from which they proceed. This may, per- haps, in the way of analogy, serve to illustrate what was before known ; but I do not think any truth can be discovered in this way. There are, no doubt, de- grees of benevolence, self-love, and other affections ; but when we apply ratios to them, I apprehend we have no distinct meanins?.* Some demonstrations are called direct^ others indirect. The first kind leads directly to the conclusion to be proved. Of the indirect, some are called demonstra- tions ad absurdum. In these the proposition contradic- tory to that which is to be proved is demonstrated to be false, or to lead to an absurdity ; whence it follows, that its contradictory, that is, the proposition to be proved, is true. This inference is grounded upon an axiom in logic, that, of two contradictory propositions, if one be false, the other must be true.f ^ Mr. J. S. Mill, in his 'ingenious chapter, Of Demonstration and Necps- sary 'Truths^ says : — " The opinion of Dugald Stewart respecting the foundations of geometry is, I conceive, substantially correct : — that it is built upon hypotheses : that it owes to this alone the peculiar certainty supposed to distinguish it ; and that in any science Avhatever, by reasoning from a set of hypotheses, we may obtain a body of conclusions as certain as those of geometry, that is, as strictly in accordance with the hypotheses, and as irresistibly compelling assent on condition that those hypotheses are true." He allov/s, however, that the opponents of Stewart have greatly the advantage of him^ on another important point in the theory of geomet- rical reasoning, — the necessity of admitting as first principles axioms as well as definitions. " The axioms," he says, " as v/ell those Avhich are in- demonstrable as those which admit of being^emonstrated, differ from that other class of fundamental principles whiclfwe involved in the definitions, in this, that they are true without any mixture of hypothesis." " It re- miains to inquire, v^'hat is the ground of our belief in axioms ? — what is the evidence on which they rest ? I answer, they are experimental trutlis ; generalizations from observation. The proposition, Tico straiijld lines can- not inclose a space., — or, in other words, Two straight lines icliich have once met do not meet again, hut continue to diverge^ — is an induction from the evi- dence of our senses." According to Mill, therefore, all truths, including mathematical truth, are either empirical or hypothetical. ITor a brillia^nt polemic on this whole subject, see Stewart, Elements^ Part II. Chap. IV. ; Whewell's IJechanical Euclid, to which are added, JRe^ marks on Mathematical Reasoning., and his Philosophy of the Inductive Sci- ences, Part I. Book II. ; Edinhnkjh Revieiu, Vol. LXVIL p. 81 et seq ; Quarterhj Revieiu, Vol. LXVIII. p. 177 et seq.; Mill's Logic, Book II. Chap, v., VI. — Ed. t This is called the jjrinciple of the excluded middle, — viz. between two contradictories. — H. T\\Q lex exclusi medii YQ2As t\\u?^ \ — "Either a given judgment must be true of anv subject, or its contradictory; there is no middle course." — Ed. 430 REASONING. Another kind of indirect demonstration proceeds by- enumerating all the suppositions that can possibly be made concerning the proposition to be proved, and then demonstrating that all of them, excepting that which is to be proved, are false ; whence it follows, that the ex- cepted supposition is true. Thus one line is proved to be equal to another, by proving first that it cannot be greater, and then that it cannot be less : for it must be either greater, or less, or equal ; and two of these sup- positions being demonstrated to be false, the third must be true. All these kinds of demonstration are used in mathe- matics, and perhaps some others. They have all equal strength. The direct demonstration is preferred where it can be had, for this reason only, as I apprehend, that it is the shortest road to the conclusion. The nature of the evidence and its strength are the same in all : only we are conducted to it by different roads. IIL How far Morality is capable of Demonstration.] What has been said of demonstrative reasoning may help us to judge of an opinion of Mr. Locke, advanced in several places of his Essay ; — to wit, " that morality is capable of demonstration as well as mathematics." In Book III. Chap. XL, having observed that, mixed modes, especially those belonging to morality, being such combinations of ideas as the mind puts together of its own choice, th signification of their names may be perfectly and exactly defined, he adds, § 16 : — " Upon this ground it- is that 1 am bold to think, that morality is capable of demonstration as well as mathe- matics : since the precise real essence of the things moral words stand for may be perfectly known, and so the congruity or incongruity of the things themselves bo certainly discovered, in which consists perfect knowl- edge. Nor let any one object, that the names of sub- stances are often to be made use of in morality, as well as those of modes, from which wi)l arise obscurity; for, as to substances, when concerned in moral discourses, their divers natures are not so much inquired into as OF DEMONSTRATION. 431 supposed : v, «"., when we say that man is subject to law^ we mean nothing by 7nan but a corporeal rational creature ; what the real essence or other qualities of that creature are, in this case, is no way considered." Again, in Book IV. Chap. III. § 18 : — '' The idea of a Supreme Being, whose workmanship we are, and the idea of ourselves, being such as are clear in us, would, I suppose, if duly considered and pursued, afford such foundation of our duty and rules of action, as might place morality among the sciences capable of demon- stration. The relation of other modes may certainly be perceived, as well as those of number and exten- sion ; and I cannot see why they should not be capable of demonstration, if due methods were thought on to examine or pursue their agreeuient or disagreement." He afterwards gives as instances two propositions, as moral propositions of which we may be as certain as of any in mathematics ; and considers at large what may have given the advantage to the ideas of quantity^ and made them be thought more capable of certainty and demonstration. Some of his learned correspondents, particularly his friend Mr. Molyneux, urged and importuned him to compose a system of morals according to the idea he had advanced in his Essay ; and, in his answer to these solicitations, he only pleads other occupations, without suggesting any change of his opinion, or any great dif- ficulty in the execution of whaWwas desired. Those philosophers who think that our determina- tions in morals are not real judgments, that right and wrong in human conduct are only certain feelings or sensations in the person Vv^ho contemplates the action, must reject Mr. Locke's opinion without examination. For if the principles of morals be not a matter of judg- ment, but of feeling only, there can be no demonstra- tion of them ; nor can any other reas(?n be given for them, but that men are so constituted by the Author of their being, as to contemplate with pleasure the actions we call virtuous, and with disgust those we call vicious. But if our determinations in morality be real jiidg- 432 REASONING. ments, and, like all other judgments, be either true or false^ it is not unimportant to understand upon what kind of evidence those judgments rest. The argument offered by Mr. Locke, to show that morality is capable of demonstration, is, that " the pre- cise real essence of the things moral words stand for may be perfectly known, and so the congruity or incon- gruity of the things themselves be certainly discovered, in which consists perfect knowledge." The field of demonstration is the various relations of things con- ceived abstractly, of whicli we may have perfect and adequate conceptions ; and Mr. Locke, taking all the things \\^hich moral words stand for to be of this kind, concluded that morality is as capable of demonstration as mathematics. Now I acknowledge that the names of the virtues and vices, of right and obligation, of liberty and prop- erty, stand for things abstract, vv^hich may be accurately defined, or, at least, conceived as distinctly and ade- quately as mathematical quantities. And thence, in- deed, it follows, that their mutual relations may be perceived as clearly and certainly as mathematical truths. Of this Mr. Locke gives two pertinent exam- ples : the first, " Where there is no property^ there is no injustice, is," says he, '' a proposition as certain as any demonstration in Euclid." When injustice is defined to be a violation of property, it is as necessary a truth, that there can be no injustice where there is no prop- erty, as that you cannot take from a man that which he has not. The second example is, that ''no govern- ment allows absolute liberty.^^ This is a truth no less certain and necessary. But such abstract truths I would call metaphysical rather than moral We give the name of mathe^natical to truths that express the relations of quantities considered abstractly; all other abstract truths may be called metaphysical. But if those mentioned by Mr. Locke are to be called moral truths, I agree with him that there are many such that are necessarily true, and that have all the evidence that mathematical truths can have. OF DEMONSTRATION. 433 It ought, however, to be remembered, that, as was before observed, the relations of things abstract, per- ceivable by us, excepting those of mathematical quanti- ties, are few, and for the most part immediately dis- cerned, so as not to require that train of reasoning which we call demonstration. Their evidence resem- bles more that of mathematical axioms than mathe- matical propositions. This appears in the two proposi- tions given as examples by IMr. Locke. The first follows immediately from the definition of injustice ; the second, from the definition of government. Their evidence may more properly be called intuitive than demonstrative. And this I apprehend to be the case, or nearly the case, with all abstract truths that are not mathematical, for the reason given above. The propositions which I think are properly called moral, are those that affirm some moral obligation to be, or not to be, incumbent on one or more individual persons. To such propositions Mr. Locke's reasoning does not apply, because the subjects of the proposition are not things whose real essence may be perfectly known. They are the creatures of God ; their obliga- tion results from the constitution which God has given them, and the circumstances in which he has placed them. That an individual has such a constitution, and is placed in such circumstances, is not an abstract and necessary, but a contingent truth. It is a matter of fact, and therefore not capable of demonstrative evi- dence, which belongs only to necessary truths. If a man had not the faculty given him by God of perceiving certain things in conduct to be right, and others to be wrong, and of perceiving his obligation to do what is right, and not to do what is wrong, he would not be a moral and accountable being. If a man be endowed with such a faculty, there must be some things which, by this faculty, are immediately discerned to be right, and others to be wrong ; and therefore there must be in morals, as in other sciences, first principles, which do not derive their evidence from any antecedent principles, but may be said to be intuitively discerned. o/ 434 , REASONING. Moral truths, therefore, may be divided into two classes, — to wit, such as are self-evident to every man whose understanding and moral faculty are ripe, and such as are deduced by reasoning from those that are self-evident. If the first be not discerned without rea- soning, the last never can be by any reasoning. If any man could say with sincerity, that he is conscious of no obligation to consult his own present and future happiness ; to be faithful to his engagements ; to obey his Maker ; to injure no man ; I know not what rea- soning, either probable or demonstrative, I could use to convince him of any moral duty. As you cannot rea- son in mathematics with a man who denies the axioms, as little can you reason with a man in morals who denies the first principles of morals. The man who does not, by the light of his own mind, perceive some things in conduct to be right, and others to be wrong, is as incapable of reasoning about morals as a blind man is about colors. Everyman knows certainly, that what he approves in other men he ought to do in like circumstances, and that he ought not to do what he condemns in other men. Every man knows that he ought, with candor, to use the best means of knowing his duty. To every man who has a conscience, these things are self-evi- dent. They are immediate dictates of our moral fac- ulty, which is a part of the human constitution ; and every man condemns himself, whether he will or not, when he knowingly acts contrary to them., Thus I think it appears, that every man of common understanding knows certainly, and without reasoning, the liUimate ends he ought to pursue, and that reason- ing is necessary only to discover the most proper means of attaining them ; and in this, indeed, a good man may often be in doubt. Thus, a magistrate knows that it is his duty to promote the good of the commu- nity which has intrusted him with authority ; and to offer to prove this to him by reasoning would be to affront him. But whether such a scheme of conduct in his office, or another, may best serve that end, he OF DEMONSTRATION. 435 may in many cases be doubtful. I believe, in such cases, he can very rarely have demonstrative evidence. His conscience determines the end he ought to pursue, and he has intuitive evidence that his end is good ; but prudence must determine the means of attaining that end ; and prudence can very rarely use demonstrative reasoning, but must rest in what appears most probable. Upon the whole, I agree with Pvlr. Locke, that propo- sitions expressing the congruities and incongruities of things abstract^ which moral words stand for, 7iiay have all the evidence of mathematical truths. But this is not peculiar to things which moral words stand for. It is common to abstract propositions of every kind. For instance : — You coMUot take from a man ivhat he has not ; A man cannot be bound and perfectly free at the sa^ne time, I think no man will call these moral truths, but they are necessary truths, and as evident as any in mathematics. Indeed, they are very nearly allied to the two which Mr. Locke gives as instances of moral propositions capable of demonstration. Of such ab- stract propositions, however, I think it may more projj- erly be said that they have the evidence of mathematical axioms, than that they are capable of demonstration. There are propositions of another kind, which alone deserve the name of moral propositions. They are such as affirm something to be the duty of persons that really exist. These are not abstract propositions; and therefore Mr. Locke's reasoning does not apply to them. The truth of all such propositions depends upon the constitution and circumstances of the persons to whom they are applied. Of such propositions, there are somiC that are self- evident to every man that has a conscience ; and these are the principles from which all moral reasoning must be drawn. They may be called the axioms of morals. But our reasoning from these axioms to any duty that is not self-evident, can very rarely be demonstrative. Nor is this any detriment to the cause of virtue, be- cause to act against what appears inost probable in a matter of duty is as real a trespass against the first 486 REASONING. principles of moralityj as to act against demonstration ^ and because he who has but one talent in reasoning, and makes the proper use of it, shall be accepted, as well as he to whom God has given ten. * CHAPTER II. OF PROBABLE REASONING. I. Distinction between Probable and Demonstrative Reasonifig-,] The field of demonstration, as has been observed, is necessary truth ; the field of probable rea- soning is contingent truth, — not what necessarily must be at all times, but what is, or was, or shall be. No contingent truth is capable of strict demonstra- tion ; but necessary truths may sometimes have proba- ble evidence. Dr. Wallis discovered many important mathematical truths, by that kind of induction which draws a general conclusion from particular premises. This is not strict demonstration, but, in some cases, gives as full conviction as demonstration itself; and a man may be certain that a truth is demonstrable before it ever has been demonstrated. In other cases, a mathe- rriatical proposition may have such probable evidence from induction or analogy, as encourages the mathe- matician to investigate its demonstration. But still the reasoning proper to mathematical and other neces- sary truths is demonstration ; and that which is proper to contingent truths is probable reasoning. These two kinds of reasoning differ in other respects. In demonstrative reasoning, one argument is as good as a thousand. One demonstration may be more ele- gant than another; it may be more easily compre- hended, or it may be more subservient to some purpose beyond the present. On any of these accounts, it may deserve a preference: but then it is sufficient by itself; it ne^s no aid from another ; it can receive none. To PROBABLE EVIDENCE. 437 add more demonstrations of the same conclusion would be a kind of tautology in reasoning ; because one dem- onstration, clearly comprehended, gives all the evidence we are capable of receiving. The strength of probable reasoning, for the most part, depends, not upon any one argument, but upon many, which unite their force, and lead to the same conclu- sion. Any one of them by itself would be insufficient to convince ; but the whole taken together may have a force that is irresistible, so that to desire more evidence would be absurd. Would any man seek new argu- ments to prove that there were such persons as King Charles the First, or Oliver Cromwell ? Such evidence may be compared to a rope made up of many slender filaments twisted together. The rope has strength more than sufficient to bear the stress laid upon it, though no one of the filaments of which it is composed would be sufficient for that purpose. It is a common observation, that it is unreasonable to require demonstration for things which do not admit of it. It is no less unreasonable to require reasoning of any kind for things which are known without rea- soning. All reasoning must he grounded upon truths wMcli are known ivUhout reasoning'. In every branch of real knowledge there must be first principles whose truth is known intuitively, without reasoning, either probable or demonstrative. They are not grounded on reasoning, but all reasoning is grounded on them. It has been shown, that there are first principles of neces- sary truths, and first principles of contingent truths. Demonstrative reasoning is grounded upon the former, g,nd probable reasoning upon the latter. That we may not be embarrassed by the ambiguity of words, it is proper to observe, that there is a popular meaning of probable evidence^ which ought not to be confounded with the philosophical meaning above ex- plained. In common language, probable evidence is considered as an inferior degree of evidence, and is op- posed to certainty; so that what is certain is more than probable, and what is only probrible is not certain 37* 4^ REASONING. Philosophers consider probable evidence, not as a de- gree^ but as a species of evidence which is opposed, not to certainty^ but to another species of evidence called demonstration. Demonstrative evidence has no degrees ; but prob- able evidence, taken in the philosophical sense, has all degrees, from the very least to the greatest, which we call certainty. That there is such a city as Rome, I am as certain as of any proposition in Euclid ; but the evidence is not demonstrative, but of that kind which philosophers call probable. Yet, in common language, it would sound oddly to say, It is probable there is such a city as Rome^ because it would imply some degree of doubt or uncertainty. Taking probable evidence, therefore, in the philo- sophical sense, as it is opposed to demonstrative, it may have any degree of evidence, from the least to the greatest. I think, in most cases, we measure the degrees of evidence by the effect they have upon a sound under- standing, w^hen comprehended clearly, and without prejudice. Every degree of evidence perceived by the mind produces a proportioned degree of assent or belief. The judgment may be in perfect suspense be- tween two contradictory opinions, when there is no evidence for either, or equal evidence for both. The least preponderancy on one side inclines the judgment in proportion. Belief is mixed with doubt, more or less, until we come to the highest degree of evidence, when all doubt vanishes, and the belief is firm and im- movable. This degree of evidence, the highest the human faculties can attain, we call certainty. II. Different Kinds of Probable Evidence,] Probable evidence not only differs in kind from demonstrative, but is itself of different kinds. The chief of these I shaU mention, without pretending to make a complete enumeration. 1. The first kind is that of human testimony^ upon which the greatest part of human knowledge is built. PROBABLE EVIDENCE. 439 The faith of history depends upon it, as well as the judgment of solemn tribunals with regard to men's ac- quired rights, and with regard to their guilt or inno- cence when they are charged with crimes. A great part of the business of the judge, of counsel at the bar, of the historian, the critic, and the antiquarian, is to canvass and weigh this kind of evidence ; and no man can act with common prudence, in the ordinary occur- rences of life, who has not some competent judgment of it. The belief we give to testimony, in many cases, is not solely grounded upon the veracity of the testifier. In a single testimony, we consider the motives a man might have to falsify. If there be no appearance of any such motive, much more if there be motives on the other side, his testimony has weight independent of his moral character. If the testimony be circumstantial, we consider how far the circumstances agree together, and with things that are known. It is so very diiSicult to fabricate a story, which cannot be detected by a ju- dicious examination of the circumstances, that it ac- quires evidence by being able to bear such a trial. There is an art in detecting false evidence in judicial proceedings, well known to able judges and barristers ; so that I believe few false witnesses leave the bar with- out suspicion of their guilt. When there is an agreement of many witnesses, in a great variety of circumstances, without the possibility of a previous concert, the evidence may be equal to that of demonstration.* 2. A second kind of probable evidence is the author- ity of those who are good judges of the point in question. The supreme court of judicature of the British nation is often determined by the opinion of lawyers in a point of law, of physicians in a point of medicine, and of * See Babbage's iVm^A Bridgewater Treatise^ Note E, On Hume's Argu- ment against Miracles; in which it is demonstrated mathematically that " it is always possible to assign a number- of independent witnesses, the im- probability of the falsehood of whose concurring testimony shall be greater than the improbability of the alleged miracle." — Ed. 440 REASONING. other artists in what relates to their several professions. And, in the common affairs of life, we frequently rely upon the judgment of others, in points of which we are not proper judges ourselves. 3. A third kind of probable evidence is that by which we recognize the identity of things^ and persons of our acquaintance. That two swords, two horses, or two persons may be so perfectly alike, as not to be distin- guishable by those to whom they are best known, can- not be shown to be impossible. But we learn either from nature, or from experience, that it never happens ; or so very rarely, that a person or thing wpll known to us is immediately recognized without any doubt, when we perceive the marks or signs by which we have been accustomed to distinguish it from all other individuals of the kind. This evidence we rely upon in the most important affairs of life, and by this evidence the identity both of things and of persons is determined in courts of judica- ture. 4. A fourth kind of probable evidence is that which ive have of men^s future actions and conduct^ from the general principles of action in man^ or from our knoivl- edge of the individuals. Notwithstanding the folly and vice that are to be found among men, there is a certain degree of prudence and probity which we rely upon in every man that is not insane. If it were not so, no man would be safe in the company of another, and there could be no society among mankind. If men were as much disposed to hurt as to do good, to lie as to speak truth, they could not live together : they would keep at as great a dis- tance from one another as possible, and the race would soon perish. We expect that men will take some care of themselves, of their family, friends, and reputation ; that they will not injure others without some tempta- tion ; that they will have some gratitude for good offices, and some resentment of injuries. Such maxims with regard to human conduct are the foundation of all political reasoning, and of common PROBABLE EVIDENCE. 441 prudence in the conduct of life. Hardly can a man form any project in public or in private life, which does not depend upon the conduct of other men, as well as his own, and which does not go upon the supposition, that men will act such a part in such circumstances. This evidence may be probable in a very high degree, but can never be demonstrative. The best concerted project may fail, and wise counsels may be frustrated, because some individual acted a part which it would have been against all reason to expect. 5. Another kind of probable evidence, the counter- part of the last, is that by ivhich toe collect merits charac- ters and designs from their actions^ speech^ and other ex- ternal signs. We see not men's hearts, nor the principles by which they are actuated ; but there are external signs of their principles and dispositions, which, though not certain, may sometimes be more trusted than their professions ; and it is from external signs that we must draw all the knowledge we can attain of men's characters. 6. The next kind of probable evidence I mention is that which mathematicians call the probability of chances. We attribute some events to chance, because we know only the remote cause which must produce some one event of a number ; but know not the more imme- diate cause which determines a particular event of that number, in preference to the others. I think all the chances about which we reason in mathematics are of this kind. Thus, in throwing a just die upon a table, we say it is an equal chance which of the six sides shall be turned up ; because neither the person who throws, nor the by-standers, know the precise measure of force and direction necessary to turn up any one side rather than another. There are here, therefore, six events, one of which must happen ; and as all are supposed to have equal probability, the probability of any one side being turned up — the ace, for instance — is as one to the re- maining number, five. The probability of turning up two aces with two dice is as one to thirty-five ; because 442 REASONING. here there are thkty-six events, each of which has equal probabib'ty. Upon such principles as these, the doctrine of chances has furnished a field of demonstrative reasoning of great extent, although the events about which this reasoning is employed be not necessary, but contingent, and be not certain, but probable. This may seem to contra- dict a principle before advanced, that contingent truths are not capable of demonstration ; but it does not : for in the mathematical reasonings about chance, the con- clusion demonstrated is not that such an event shall happen^ but tha.t the prohabilily of its happening bears such a ratio to the probability of its failing ; and this conclusion is necessary upon the suppositions on which it is grounded. 7. The last kind of probable evidence I shall men- tion is that by which the known laws of nature have been discovered^ and the effects ivhich have been produced by them, in former ages, or luliich may be expected in time to come.^ The laws of nature are the rules by which the Su- preme Being governs the v/orld. We deduce them only from facts that fall within our own observation, or are properly attested by those who have observed them. The knowledge of some of the laws of nature is necessary to all men in the conduct of life. These are '^^oon discovered, even by savages. They know that fire burns, that water drowns, that bodies gravitate to- wards the earth. They know that day and night, sum- mer and winter, regularly succeed each other. As far back as their experience and information reach, they know that these have happened regularly ; and, upon this ground, they are led, by the constitution of human nature, to expect that they will happen in time to come, in like circumstances. The knowledge which the philosopher attains of the laws of nature differs from that of the vulgar, not in the first principles on which it is grounded, but in its extent and accuracy. He collects with care the phenomena that lead to the same conclusion ^ and compares them PROliABLE EVIDENCE. 443 with those that seem to contradict or to Jiniit it. He observes the circumstances on which every phenome- non depends, and distinguishes them carefuily from those that are accidentally conjoined with it. He puts natural bodies in various situations, and applies them to one another in various ways, on purpose to observe the effect ; and thus acquires from his senses a more extensive knowledge of the course of nature in a short time, than could be collected by casual observation in many ages. But what is the result of his laborious researches? It is, that, as far as he has been able to observe, such things have always happened in such circumstances, and such bodies have. always been found to have such properties. These are matters of fact, attested by sense, memory, and testimony, just as the few facts which the vulgar know are attested to them. And what conclusions does the philosopher draw from the facts he has collected ? They are, that like events have happened in former times in like circum- stances, and will happen in time to come ; and these conclusions are built on the very same ground on which the simple rustic concludes that the sun will rise to- morrow. Facts reduced to general rules, and the consequences of those general rules, are all that we really know of the material world. And the evidence that such general rules have no exceptions, as well as the evidence that * they will be the same in time to come as they have been in time past, can never be demonstrative. It is only that species of evidence which philosophers call probable. General rules may have exceptions or lim- itations which no man ever had occasion to observe. The laws of nature may be changed by Him who es- tablished them. But we are led by our constitution to rely upon their continuance with as little doubt as if it was demonstrable.* does As lleid gives an entire Essay to Ecasoiiing, it is remarkable that lie J not treat of induction by name, to which his hist-mentioncd form of 444 REASONING. CHAPTER III. OF MR. HUME'S SKEPTICISM WITH REGARD TO REASON. I. He reduces all Knoivledgc to Probability^] In the Treatise of Human Nature^ Book I. Part IV. Sect. L, the author undertakes to prove two points: — Firsts that all that is called human knowledge (meaning demonstrative knowledge) is only probability ; and secondly^ that this probability, when duly examined, evanishes by degrees, and leaves at last no evidence at all : so that, in the issue, there is no ground to believe probable reasoning belongs, nor mark the distinction between inductive and deductive reasoning. To supply this defect I copy a passage from ttouffroy {Introduction to Ethics^ Lect. IX.), one of the most faithful of Reid's fol- lowers : — " This is the process of reasoning hj induction : — when several particular cases, which are analogous, have been ascertained by observation, and stored up in the memory, reason applies to tliis series of analogous obser- vations the a priori principle, that tlie laws of nature are constant ', and, at once, what was true through observation in only twenty, thirty, or forty observed cases, becomes, by the application of this principle, a general law^ as true of other cases not observed as of those which observation has ascertained. From the results of observation, and solely by the application to these results of a conception of reason, the mind arrives at a conse- quence that transcends them. Such is the method of reasoning by induc- tion. Its characteristic is, that it proceeds from certain results, communi- 'cated by observation, to a general principle, within which they are in- cluded. " The process of reasoning hg deduction is as follows : — A truth of any kind, particular, general, or universal, being made known, reason deduces from it whatever other truths it includes. Sometimes the deduction is complete, in which case reason only presents tlie whole truth under two different aspects ; at other times the deduction is imperfect, and then rea- son passes from the whole to a part. But in either case, if Ave compare to- gether the results of our reasoning and the premises from which we drew them, Ave shall always find that these results, and a part or the whole of the premises, are perfectly equivalent. This is the special characteristic of de- ductive reasoning." The following admirable passage on the verification of inductions is from the Quarterly Review, Vol. LXVIII. p. 233 : — " It is of great moment to distinguish the characters of a sound induction. One of them is its ready identification with our conceptions of facts, so as to make itself a part of them, to ingraft itself into language, and by no subse- quent effort of the mind to be got rid of. The leading term of a true theory ABSOLUTE SKEPTICISM. HUME. 445 any one proposition rather than its contrary, and " all those are certainly fools who reason, or believe any thing." To pretend to prove by reasoning that there is no force in reason, does indeed look like a philosophical delirium. It is like a man's pretending to see clearly that he himself and all other men are blind. Still, it may not be improper to inquire, whether, as the author thinks, this state of mind was produced by a just application of the rules of logic, or, as others may be apt to think, by the misapplication and abuse of them. Firsts Because we ^.re fallible, the author infers that all knowledge degenerates into probability. That man, and probably every created being, is falli- once pronounced, we cannot fall back, even in thought, to that helpless state of doubt and bewilderment in which we gazed on the facts before. The general proposition is more than a sum of the particulars. Our dots are filled in and connected by an ideal outline, which we pursue even be- yond their limits, assign it a name, and speak of it as a thing. In all our propositions, this neio thing is referred to, the elements of which it is formed are forgotten ; and thus we arrive at an mdnctiy q foi-rnula, — a general, perhaps a universal, proposition. " Another character of sound inductions is, that they enable us to predict. We feel secure that our rale is based upon the realities of nature, wlien it stands us in the stead of more experience ; when it embodies facts, as an experience wider than our own would do, and in a way that our ordinary experience would never reach ; when it will bear, not stress, but torture, and gives true results in cases studiously different from those which led to the discovery. The theories of Newton and Fresnel are full of such cases. In the latter, indeed [the theory of polarization], this test is carried to such an extreme, that theory has actually remanded back experiment to read her lesson anew, and convicted her of blindness and error. It has informed her of facts so strange as to appear to her impossible, and showed her all the sinirularities she would observe in critical cases she never dreamed of '&" trvinar. '' Another character, which is exemplified only in the greatest theories, is the consilience of viduciions, where many and widely diflPerent lines of ex- perience spring together into one theory which explains them all, and that in a more simple manner than seemed to be required for either separately. Thus, in the infinitely varied phenomena of physical astronomy, when all are discussed and all explained, we hear from all quarters the consentane- ous echoes of but one word, — gravitation.^^ For recent authorities on the subject of induction, see Baden Powell's Connection of Natural and Divine Truths Sect. I. ; Whewell's Philosophy of the Inductive Sciences, Books I., XI., and XIII. ; Mill's Logic, Book III. ; Whewell, On Induction with Special Reference to Mr. MiWs System of Logic. — Ed. 446 REASONING. ble, and that a fallible being cannot have that perfect comprehension and assurance of truth which an infalli- ble being has, I think ought to be granted. It becomes a fallible being to be modest, open to new light, and sensible that, by some false bias, or by rash judging, he may be misled. If this be called a degree of skepticism, I cannot help approving of it, being persuaded that the man who makes the best use he can of the faculties which God has given him, without thinking them more perfect than they really are, may have all the belief that is necessary in the conduct of life, and all that is neces- sary to his acceptance with his Maker. It is granted, then, that human judgments ought al- ways to be formed with a humble sense of our fallibility in judging. This is all that can be inferred by the rules of logic from our being fallible. And if this be all that is meant by our knowledge degenerating into probabil- ity, I know no person of a different opinion. But it may be observed, that the author here uses the word probability in a sense for which I know no authority but his own. Philosophers understand probability as opposed to demonstration ; the vulgar as opposed to cer- tainty ; but this author understands it as opposed to infallibility^ which no man claims. One who believes himself to be fallible may still hold it to be certain that tvv^o and two make four, and that two contradictory propositions cannot both be true. He may believe some things to be probable only, and other things to be demonstrable, without making any pre- tence to infallibility. If we use words in their proper meaning, it is impos- sible that demonstration should degenerate into proba- bility from the imperfection of our faculties. Our judg- ment cannot change the nature of the things about v/hich we judge. What is really demonstration will still be so, whatever judgment we form concerning it. It may likewise be observed, that, when we mistake that for demonstration which really is not, the conse- quence of this mistake is, not that demonstration de- generates into probability, but that what we took to be ABSOLUTE SKEPTICISM. — HUME. 447 demonstration is no proof at all ; for one false step in a demonstration destroys the whole, but caimot turn it into another kind of proof. Upon the whole, then, this first conclusion of our au- thor, that the fallibility of human judgment turns all knowledge into probability, if understood literally, is absurd ; but if it be only a figure of speech, and means no more than that, in all our judgments, we ought to be sensible of our fallibility, and ought to hold our opinions with that modesty that becomes fallible crea- tures, which I take to be what the author meant, this, I think, nobody denies, nor was it necessary to enter into a laborious proof of it. II. And all Probability to Nothing,] The second point which he attempts to prove is, that this probability, when duly examined, suffers a continual diminution, and at last a total extinction. The obvious consequence of this is, that no fallible being can have good reason to believe any thing at all. But let us hear the proof. " In every judgment, we ought to correct the first judgment derived from the nature of the object, by an- other judgment derived from the nature of the under- standing. Beside the original uncertainty inherent in the subject, there arises another, derived from the weak- ness of the faculty which judges. Having adjusted these two uncertainties together, we are obliged, by our reason, to add a new uncertainty, derived from the pos- sibility of error in the estimation we make of \he truth and fidelity of our faculties. This is a doubt of which, if we would closely pursue our reasoning, we cannot avoid giving a decision. But this decision, though it should be favorable to our preceding judgment, being founded only on probability, must weaken still further our first evidence. The third uncertainty must in like manner be criticized by a fourth, and so on without end. " Now, as every one of these uncertainties takes away a part of the original evidence, it must at last be re- 448 REASONING. duced to nothing. Let our first belief be ever so strong, it must infallibly perish by passing through so many examinations, each of which carries off somewhat of its force and vigor. No finite object can subsist under a decrease repeated in infinitum^ This is the author's Achillean argument against the evidence of reason, from which he concludes, that a man who would govern his belief by reason must believe nothing at all, and that belief is an act, not of the cogi- tative, but of the sensitive part of our nature. If there be any such thing as motion, said an ancient skeptic, the swift-footed Achilles could never overtake an old man in a journey. For, suppose the old man to set out a thousand paces before Achilles, and that, while Achilles has travelled the thousand paces, the old man has got five hundred ; when Achilles has gone the five hundred, the old man has gone two hundred and fifty ; and when Achilles has gone the two hundred and fifty, the old man is still one hundred and twenty-five before him. Repeat these estimations in infinitum^ and you will still find the old man foremost ; therefore Achilles can never overtake him ; therefore there can be no such thing as motion. The reasoning of the modern skeptic against reason is equally ingenious,- and equally convincing. Indeed, they have a great similarity. If we trace the journey of Achilles two thousand paces, we shall find the very point where the old man is overtaken : but this short journey, by dividing it into an infinite number of stages, with corresponding estimations, is made to appear infi- nite. In like manner, our author, subjecting every judg- ment to an infinite number of successive probable esti- mations, reduces the evidence to nothing. To return, then, to the argument of the modern skeptic. I examine the proof of a theorem of Euclid. It appears to me to be strict demonstration. But I may have overlooked some fallacy ; therefore I examine it again and again, but can find no flaw in it. I find all that have examined it agree with me. I have now that evidence of the truth of the proposition which I ABSOLUTK SKEPTICISM. HUME. 449 and all men call demonstration, and that belief of it which we call certainty. Here my skeptical friend interposes, and assures me, that the rules of logic reduce this demonstration to no evidence at all. I am willing to hear what step in it he thinks fallacious, and why. He makes no objection to any part of the demonstration, but pleads my falli- bility in judging. I have made the proper allowance for this already, by being open to conviction. " But," says he, " there are tivo uncertainties, the first inherent in the subject, which I have already shown to have only probable evidence ; the second arising from the weakness of the faculty that judges." I answer, it is the weakness of the faculty only that reduces this dem- onstration to what you call probability. You must not, therefore, make it a second uncertainty ; for it is the same with the first. To take credit twice in an ac- count for the same article is not agreeable to the rules of logic. Hitherto, therefore, there is but one uncer- tainty, — to wit, my fallibility in judging. " But," says my friend, " you are obliged by reason to add a neiv uncertainty, derived from the possibility of error in the estimation you make of the trnth and fidelity of your faculties P I answer, — This estimation is am- biguously expressed ; it may either mean an estimation of my liable ness to err by the misapplication and abuse of my faculties, or it may mean an estimation of my liableness to err by conceiving my faculties to be true and faithful, w^hile they may be false and fallacious in themselves, even when applied in the best manner. I shall consider this estimation in each of these senses. If the first be the estimation meant, it is true that reason directs us, as fallible creatures, to carry along with us, in all our judgments, a sense of our fallibility. It is true, also, that we are in greater danger of erring in some cases, and less in others ; and that this danger of erring may, according to the circumstances of the case, admit of an estimation, which we ought likewise to carry along with us in every judgment we form. x\fter repeated examination of a proposition of Eu- 38* "^ 450 REASONING. did, I judge it to be strictly demonstrated; this is my first judgment. But as I am liable to err from various causes, I consider how far I may have been misled by any of these causes in this judgment. My decision upon this second point is favorable to ray first judgment, and therefore, as I apprehend, must strengthen it. To say, that this decision, because it is only probable, must weaken the first evidence, seems to me contrary to all rules of logic, and to common sense. The first judg- ment may be compared to the testimony of a credible witness ; the second, after a scrutiny into the character of the witness, wipes off every objection that can be made to it, and therefore surely must confirm, and not weaken, his testimony. But let us suppose, that, in another case, I examine my first judgment upon some point, and find, that it was attended with unfavorable circumstances. What, in reason, and according to the rules of logic, ought to ' be the effect of this discovery ? The effect surely will be, and ought to be, to make me less confident in my first judgment, until I examine the point anew in more favorable circumstances. If it be a matter of importance, I return to weigh the evi- dence of my first judgment. If it was precipitate be- fore, it must now be deliberate in every point. If at first I was in passion, I must now be cool. If I had an interest in the decision, I must place the interest on the other side. It is evident, that this review of the subject may con- firm Taj first judgment, notwithstanding the suspicious circumstances that attended it. Though the judge was biased or corrupted, it does not follow that the sentence was unjust. The rectitude of the decision does not de- pend upon the character of the judge, but upon the na- ture of the case. From that only it must be determined whether the decision be just. The circumstances that rendered it suspicious are mere presumptions, which have no force against direct evidence. Thus, I have considered the effect of this estimation of our liableness to err in our first judgment, and have ABSOLUTE SKEPTICISM. HUME. 451 allowed to it all the effect that reason and the rules of logic permit. In the case I first supposed, and in every case where we can discover no cause of error, it affords a presumption in favor of the first judgment. In other cases^ it may afford a presumption against it. But the rules of logic require that we should not judge by pre- sumptions where we have direct evidence. The effect of an unfavorable presumption should only be, to make us examine the evidence with the greater care. The skeptic urges, in the last place, that this estima- tion must be subjected to another estimation, that to another, and so on in infinitum ; and as every new esti- mation takes away from the evidence of the first judg- ment, it must at last be totally annihilated, I answer, first, it has been shown above, that the first estimation, supposing it unfavorable, can only afford a presumption against the first judgment ; the second, upon the same supposition, will be only the presump- tion of a presumption ; and the third, the presumption that there is a presumption of a presumption. This in- finite series of presumptions resembles an infinite series of quantities decreasing in geometrical proportion, which amounts only to a finite sum. The infinite series of stages of Achilles's journey after the old man amounts only to two thousand paces ; nor can this infinite series of presumptions outweigh one solid argument in favor of the first judgment, supposing them all to be unfavor- able to it. Secondly, I have shown, that the estimation of our first judgment naay strengtJien it; and the same thing may be said of all the subsequent estimations. It would, therefore, be as reasonable to conclude, that the first judgment will be brought to infallible certainty when this series of estimations is wholly in its favor, as that its evidence will be brought to nothing by such a series supposed to be wholly unfavorable to it. But, in reality, one serious and cool reexamination of the evidence by which our first judgment is supported has, and, in rea- son, ought to have, more force to strengthen or weaken it, than an infinite series of such estimations as our au- thor requires. 452 REASONING* Thirdly^ I know no reason nor rule in logic that re- quires that such a series of estimations should follow every particular judgment. The author's reasoning supposes, that a man, when he forms his first judgment, conceives himself to be infallible ; that by a second and subsequent judgment, he discovers that he is not infallible ; and that by a third judgment, subsequent to the second, he estimates his liableness to err in such a case as the present. If the man proceed in this order, I grant that his sec- ond judgment will, with good reason, bring down the first from supposed infallibility to fallibility ; and that his third judgment will, in some degree, either strength- en or weaken the first, as it is corrected by the second. But every man of understanding proceeds in a contrary order. When about to judge in any particular point, he knows already that he is not infallible. He knows v/hat are the cases in which he is most or least liable to err. The conviction of these things is aKvays pres- ent to his naind, and influences the degree of his assent in his first judgment, as far as to him appears reason- able. If he should afterwards find reason to suspect his first judgment, and desires to have all the satisfac- tion his faculties can give, reason will direct him not to form such a series of estimations upon estimations as this author requires, but to examine the evidence of his first judgment carefully and coolly; and this review may very reasonably, according to its result, either strengthen or weaken, or totally overturn, his first judg- ment. This infinite series of estimations, therefore, is not the method that reason directs in order to form our judg- ment in any case. It is introduced without necessity, without any use but to puzzle the understanding, and to make us think, that to judge, even in the simplest and plainest cases, is a matter of insurmountable diffi- culty and endless labor; just as the ancient skeptic, to make a journey of two thousand paces appear endless, divided it into an infinite number of stages. But we observed, that the estimation which our au- ABSOLUTE SKEPTICISM. HUME. 45o thor requires may admit of another meaning, which, indeed, is more agreeable to the expression, but incon- sistent with what he advanced before. By the possibility of error in the estimation of the truth and fidelity of our faculties, may be meant, that ive may err by esteeming' our faculties true and faith- ful^ while^ in fact^ they may be false and fallacious^ even when used according to the rules of reason and logic. If this be meant, I answer, firsts that the truth and fidelity of our faculty of judging are, and must be, taken for granted in every judgment and in every esti- mation. If the skeptic can seriously doubt of the truth and fidelity of his faculty of judging when properly used, and suspend his judgment upon that point till he finds proof, his skepticism admits of no cure by reasoning, and he must even continue in it until he have new faculties given him, which shall have authority to sit in judgment upon the old. Nor is there any need of an endless succession of doubts upon this subject, for the first puts an end to all judgment and reasoning, and to the possibility of conviction by that means. The skep- tic has here got possession of a stronghold which is impregnable to reasoning, and we must leave him in possession of it, till nature, by other means, makes him give it up. Secondly^ I observe, that this ground of skepticism, from the supposed infidelity of our faculties, contra- dicts what the author before advanced in this very argument, to wit, that " the rules of the demonstrative sciences are certain and infallible, and that truth is the natural effect of reason, and that error arises from the irruption of other causes." But perhaps he made these concessions unwarily. He is therefore at liberty to retract them, and to rest his skepticism upon this sole foundation, that no rea- soning can prove the truth and fidelity of our faculties. Here he stands upon firm ground : for it is evident, that every argument offered to prove the truth and fidelity 454 REASONING. ' of our faculties takes for granted the thing in question, and is therefore that kind of sophism which logicians call petitio principiL All we would ask of this kind of skeptic is, that he would be uniform and consistent, and that his practice in life do not belie his profession of skepticism with regard to the fidelity of his faculties : for the want of faith, as well as faith itself, is best shown by works. If a skeptic avoid the fire as much as those who believe it dangerous to go into it, we can hardly avoid thinking his skepticism to be feigned, and not real. Our author, indeed, was aware, that neither his skep- ticism, nor that of any other person, was able to en- dure this trial, and therefore enters a caveat against it. " Neither I," says he, " nor any other person, was ever sincerely and constantly of that opinion. Nature, by an absolute and uncontrollable necessity, has deter- mined us to judge, as well as to breathe and feel." Upon the whole, I see only two conclusions that can be fairly drawn from this profound and intricate rea- soning against reason. The first is, that we are fallible in all our judgments and in all our reasonings. The second, that the truth and fidelity of our faculties can never be proved by reasoning ; and therefore our trust in them cannot be founded on reasoning. If the last be what the author calls his hypothesis, I subscribe to it, and think it not an hypothesis, but a manifest truth ; though I conceive it to be very improperly expressed by saying that belief is more properly an act of the sensitive than of the cogitative part of our nature.* * On the general subject of skepticism, see Fichte's Destination of Man ; Jouffroy's Introduction to Ethics^ Lectures VIII. -X. ; Ancillon, Essal sur la Science et sur la Foi Philosophique; Javary, De la Certitude. — Ed. J. ESSAY VIII. OF»TASTE. CHAPTER I. OF TASTE IN GENERAL. That power of the mind by which we are capable of discerning and relishing the beauties of nature, and whatever is excellent in the fine arts, is called to.ste. In treating of this as an intellectual power of the mind, I intend only to make some observations, first on its nature^ and then on its objects, 1. In the external sense of taste, we are led by reason and reflection to distinguish between the agreeable sen- sation we feel, and the quality in the object which oc- casions it. Both have the same name, and on that account are apt to be confounded by the vulgar, and even by philosophers. The sensation I feel when I taste any sapid body is in my mind ; but there is a real quality in the body which is the cause of this sensa- tion. These two things have the same name in lan- guage, not from any similitude in their nature, but be- cause the one is the sign of the other, and because there is little occasion in common life to distin2^uish them. This was fully explained in treating of the Sec- ondary Qualities of Bodies. The reason of taking notice of it now is, that the internal power of taste bears a great analogy in this respect to the external. When a beautiful object is before us, we may distin- guish the agreeable emotion it produces in us from the quality of the object which causes that emotion. When 456 TASTE. I hear an air ie music that pleases me, I say it is fine, it is excellent. This excellence is not in me ; it is in the music. But the pleasure it gives is not in the music ; it is in me. Perhaps I cannot say what it is in the tune that pleases my ear, as I cannot say what it is in a sapid body that pleases my palate ; but there is a quality in the sapid body which pleases my palate, and I call it a delicious taste ; and there is a quality in the tune that pleases my taste, and I call it a fine or an excellent air. But though some of the qualities that please a good taste resemble the secondary qualities of body, and therefore may be called occult qualities, as we only feel their effect, and have no more knowledge of the cause than that it is something which is adapted by nature to produce that effect, this is not always the case. Our judgment of beauty is, in many cases, more enlight- ened. A work of art may appear beautiful to the miost ignorant, even to a child. It pleases, but he knows not why. To one who understands it perfectly, and perceives how every part is fitted with exact judgment to its end, the beauty is not mysterious ; it is perfectly comprehended ; and he knows wherein it consists, as well as how it affects him. 2. We may observe, that, though all the tastes we perceive by the palate are either agreeable or disagree- able, or indifferent; yet among those that are agree- able there is a great diversity, not in degree only, but in kind. And as we have not generical names for all the different kinds of taste, we distinguish them by the bodies in which they are found. In like manner, all the objects of our internal taste are either beautiful, or disagreeable, or indifferent; yet of beauty there is' a great diversity^ not only of degree^ but of kind: the beauty of a demonstration, the beauty of a poem, the beauty of a palace, the beauty of a piece of music, the beauty of a fine woman, and many more that might be named, are different kinds of beauty ; and we have no names to distinguish them, but the names of the diff*erent objects to which they belong. ITS NATURE. 457 As there is such diversity in the lands of beauty as well as in the degrees^ we need not think it strange that philosophers have gone into different systems in analyzing it, and enumerating its simple ingredients. They have made many just observations on the sub- ject ; but, from the love of simplicity, have reduced it to fewer principles than the nature of the thing will permit, having had in their eye some particular kinds of beauty, while they overlooked others. There are moral beauties as well as natural ; beauties in the objects of sense, and in intellectual objects; in the works of men, and in the works of God ; in things inanimate, in brute animals, and in rational ]3eings ; in the constitution of the body of man, and in the consti- tution of his mind. There is no reed excellence which has not its beauty to a discerning eye, when placed in a proper point of view ; and it is as difficult to enumer- ate the ingredients of beauty as the ingredients of real excellence. 3. Those who conceive that there is no standard in nature by which taste may be regulated, and that the common proverb, that there ought to be no dispute about taste^ is to be taken in the utmost latitude, go upon slender and insufficient ground. The same arguments might be used with equal force against any standard of truth. Whole nations by the force of prejudice are brought to believe the grossest absurdities ; and why should it be thought that the taste is less capable of being perverted than the judgment ? It must indeed be acknowledged, that men differ more in the faculty of taste than in what we commonly call judgment ; and therefore it may be expected that they should be more liable to have their taste corrupted in matters of beauty and deformity, than their judgment in matters of truth and error. If we make due allowance for this, we shall see that it is as easy to account for the variety of taste, though there be in nature a standard of true beauty, and con- sequently of good taste, as it is to account for the va- riety and contrariety of opinions, though there be in 39 458 TASTE. nature a standard of truth, and consequently of right judgment. 4. Nay, if we speak accurately and strictly, we shall find that, in every operation of taste^ there is judgment implied. When a man pronounces a poem or a palace to be beautiful, he affirms something of that poem or that palace; and every affirmation or denial expresses judg- ment. For we cannot better define judgment, than by saying that it is an affirmation or denial of one thing concerning another. I had occasion to show, when treating of judgment, that it is implied in every per- ception of our external senses. There is an immediate conviction and belief of the. existence of the quality perceived, whether it be color, or sound, or figure ; and the same thing holds^ in the perception of beauty or deformity. If it be said, that the perception of beauty is merely a feeling in the mind that perceives, without any belief of excellence in the object, the necessary consequence of this opinion is, that when I say Virgil's Georgics is a beautiful poem, I mean not to say any thing of the poem, but only something concerning myself and my feelings. Why should I use a language that expresses the contrary of what I mean ? My language, accord- ing to the necessary rules of construction, can bear no other meaning but this, that there is something in the poem, and not in me, which I call beauty. Even those who hold beauty to be merely a feeling in the person that perceives it, find themselves under a necessity of expressing themselves as if beauty were solely a qual- ity of the object, and not of the percipient. Our judgment of beauty is not, indeed, a dry and unaffecting judgment, like that of a mathematical or metaphysical truth. By the constitution of our nature, it is accompanied with an agreeable feeling or emotion, for which we have no other name but the sense of beauty. This sense of beauty, like the perceptions of our other senses, implies not only a feeling, but an opinion of soirie quality in the object which occasions that feeling. I ITS OBJECTS. 459 III objects that please the taste, we always judge that there is some real excellence, some superiority to those that do not please. In some cases, that superior excel- lence is distinctly perceived, and can be pointed out; in other cases, we have only a general notion of some excellence Vv^hich we cannot describe. Beauties of the former kind may be compared to the primary qualities perceived by the external senses ; those of the latter kind, to the secondary. 5. Beauty or deformity in an object results from its nature or structure. To perceive the beauty, therefore, we must perceive the nature or structure from which it results. In this the internal sense difiers from the ex- ternal. Our external s^^nses may discover qualities which do not depend upon any antecedent perception. Thus I can hear the sound of a bell, though I never perceived any thing else belonging to it. But it is im- possible to perceive the beauty of an object without perceiving the object, or at least conceiving it. On this account. Dr. Hutcheson called the senses of beauty and harmony reflex or secondary senses ; because the beauty cannot be perceived unless the object be perceived by some other power of the mind. Thus the sense oi harmony and melody in sounds supposes the external sense of hearing, and is a kind of secondary to it. A man born deaf may be a good judge of beauties of another kind, but can have no notion of melody or har- mony. The like may be said of beauties in coloring and in figure, which can never be perceived without the senses by which color and figure are perceived. CHAPTER II. OF THE OBJECTS OE TASTE. A PHILOSOPHICAL aualysis of the objects of taste is like applying the anatomical knife to a fine face. The 460 TASTE. design of the philosopher, as well as of the anatomist, is, not to gratify taste, but to improve knowledge. The reader ought to be aware of this, that he may not entertain an expectation in which he will be disap- pointed. By the objects of taste, I mean those qualities or at- tributes of things, ivhich are by nature adapted to please a good taste, Mr. Addison, and Dr. Akenside after him, have reduced them to three, to wit, novelty, grand- eur, and beauty. This division is sufficient for all I intend to say upon the subject, and therefore I shall adopt it; — observing only, that beauty i^ often taken in so extensive a sense as to comprehend all the objects of taste ; yet all the authors I have met with, who have given a division of the objects of taste, make beauty one species. I take the reason of this to be, that we have specific names for some of the qualities that please the taste, but not for all ; and therefore all those fall under the general name of beauty for which there is no specific name in the division. I. First Object of Taste, — Novelty,] Novelty is not properly a quality of the thing to which we attribute it, far less is it a sensation in the mind to which it is new : it is a relation which the thijig has to the knoivl- edge of the person. What is new to one man may not be so to another ; what is new this moment may be familiar to the same person some time hence. When an object is first brought to our knowledge, it is new, whether it be agreeable or not. It is evident, therefore, with regard to novelty (whatever may be said of other objects of taste), that it is not merely a sensation in the mind of him to whom the thing is new ; it is a real relation which the thing has to his knowledge at that time. But we are so constituted, that what is new to us commonly gives pleasure upon that account, if it be not in itself disas^reeable. It rouses our attention, and occasions an agreeable exertion of our faculties. We can perhaps conceive a being so made, that his ITS OBJECTS. NOVELTY. 461 happiness consists in a continuance of the same un- varied sensations or feelings, Vv^thout any active exer- tion on his part. Whether this be possible or not, it is evident that man is not such a being. His good con- sists in the vigorous exertion of his active and intel- lective powers upon their proper objects ; he is made for action and progress, and cannot be happy v/ithout it; his enjoyments seem to be given by nature, not so much for their own sake, as to encourage the exercise of his various powers. That tranquillity of soul in which some place human happiness is not a dead rest, but a regular progressive motion. Such is the constitution of man by the appointment of nature. This constitution is perhaps a part of the imperfection of our nature ; but it is wisely adapted to our state, which is not intended to be stationary, but progressive. The eye is not satiated with seeing, nor the ear with hearing; something is always wanted. Desire and hope never cease, but remain to spur us on to something yet to be acquired ; and, if they could cease, human happiness must end with them. That our desire and hope be properly directed, is our part ; that they can never be extinguished, is the work of nature. But the pleasure derived from new objects, in many cases, is not owing solely or chiefly to their being new, but to some other circumstance that gives them value. The new fashion in dress, furniture, equipage, and other accommodations of life, gives pleasure, not so much, as I apprehend, because it is new, as because it is a sign of rank, and distinguishes a man from the vulgar. In some things novelty is due, and the want of it a real imperfection. Thus, if an author adds to' the number of books with Vx'^hich the public is already overloaded, we expect from him something new ; and if he says nothing but what has been said before, in as a.greeable a manner, we are justly disgusted. When novelty is altogether separated from the con- ception of w^orth and utility, it makes but a slight im- 39* 462 TASTE. pression upon a truly correct taste. Every discovery in nature, in the arts, and in the sciences, has a real value, and gives a rational pleasure to a good taste. But things that have nothing to recommend them but novelty are fit only to entertain children, or those who are distressed from a vacuity of thought. This qual- ity of objects may therefore be compared to the cipher in arithmetic, which adds greatly to the value of sig- nificant figures, but, when put by itself, signifies noth- ing at all. 11. Second Object of Taste, — Grmideur,] "VVe are next to consider what grandeur in objects is. To me it seems to be nothing else than such a degree of excel- lence^ in one kind or another^ as merits our admiration. There are some attributes of mind which have a real and intrinsic excellence, compared with their contraries, and which, in every degree, are the natural objects of esteem, but in an uncommon degree are objects of ad- miration. We put a value upon them because they are intrinsically valuable and excellent. The spirit of modern philosophy would indeed lead us to think, that the worth and value we put upon things is only a sensation in our minds, and not any thing inherent in the object ; and that we might have been so constituted as to put the highest value upon the things which we now despise, and to despise the qualities which we now highly esteem. But if we hearken to the dictates of common sense, we must be convinced that there is real excellence in some things^ whatever our feelings or our constitution be. It de- pends, no doubt, upon our constitution, whether we do or do not perceive excellence where it really is ; but the object has its excellence from its own constitution, and not from ours. The common judgment of mankind in this matter sufficiently appears in the language of all nations, which uniformly ascribes excellence, grandeur, and beauty to the object, and not to the mind that perceives it. And I believe in this, as in most other things, we shall find ITS OBJECTS. GRANDEUR. 463 the common judgment of mankind and true philoso- phy not to be at variance. Is not powt^r in its nature more excellent than weak- ness, knowledge than ignorance, wisdom than folly, fortitude than pusillanimity ? Is there no intrinsic ex- cellence in self-command, in generosity, in public spirit? Is not friendship a better affection of mind than hatred, — a noble emulation, than envy? Let us suppose, if possible, a being so constituted as to have a high re- spect for ignorance, weakness, and folly ; to venerate cowardice, malice, and envy, and to hold the contrary qualities in contempt ; to have an esteem for lying and falsehood, and to love most those who impose upon him, and use him worst. Could we believe such a constitution to be any thing else than madness and delirium ? It is impossible. We can as easily con- ceive a constitution by which one should perceive two and three to make fifteen, or a part to be greater than the whole. Every one who attends to the operations of his own mind w^ill find it to be certainly true, as it is the com- mon belief of mankind, that esteem is led by opinion, and that every person draws our esteem as far only as he appears, either to reason or fancy, to be amiable and worthy. Thei*e is, therefore, a real intrinsic excellence in some qualities of mind, — as in power, knowledge, wisdom, virtue, magnanimity. These in every degree merit esteem ; but in an uncommon degree they merit admi' ration; and that which merits admiration we call grand. In the contemplation of uncommon excellence the mind feels a noble enthusiasm, which disposes it to the imitation of what it admires. When we contemplate the character of Cato, his greatness of soul, his supe- riority to pleasure, to toil, and to danger, his ardent zeal for the liberty of his country, — when we see him standing unmoved in misfortunes, the last pillar of the liberty of Rome, and falling nobly in his country's ruin, — who would not wish to be Cato, rather than Caesar in all his triumph? Such a spectacle of a great soul 464 TASTE. struggling with misfortune, Seneca thought not un- worthy of the attention of Jupiter himself. Ecce spec- taculiim Deo dignum, ad quod respiciat Jupiter suo operi intentus^ vir fortis cum mala fortuna compositus. As the Deity is, of all objects of thought, the most grand, the descriptions given in Holy Writ of his attri- butes and works, even when clothed in simple expres- sion, are acknowledged to be sublime. The expression of Moses, " And God said, Let there be light ; and there was light," * has not escaped the notice of Lon- ginus, a heathen critic, as an example of the sublime. Hitherto we have found grandeur only in qualities of mind ; but it may be asked. Is there no real grandeur in material objects ? It will perhaps appear extravagant to deny that there is ; yet it deserves to be considered, whether all the grandeur we ascribe to objects of sense be not derived from something intellectual, of which they are the effects or signs, or to which they bear some relation or analogy. Besides the relations of effect and cause, of sign and thing signified, there are innumerable simili- tudes and analogies between things of very different nature, which lead us to connect them in our imagina- tion, and to ascribe to the one what properly belongs to the other. Every metaphor in language is an in- stance of this ; and it must be remembered, that a very great part of language which we now account proper was originally metaphorical ; for the metaphorical meaning becomes the proper as soon as it becomes the most usual ; much more, when that which w^as at first the proper meaning falls into disuse. Thus the names of grand and sublime^ as well as their opposites, mean and loio, are evidently borrov/ed from the dimensions of body ; yet it must be acknowl- edged, that many things are truly grand and sublime, to which we cannot ascribe the dimensions of height • and extension. Some analogy there is, without doubt, between greatness of dimension, which is an object of * Better translated, '-Be there liglit; and light there was " — H. ITS OBJECTS. GRANDEUR. 465 (external sense, and that grandeur which is an object of taste. On account of this analogy, the last borrows its name from the first ; and the name being common leads us to conceive that there is something common in the nature of the things. But we shall find many qual- ities of mind denoted by names taken from some qual- ity of body to which they have some analogy^ without any thing common in their nature. Sweetness and austerity, simplicity and duplicity, rectitude and crookedness, are names common to cer- tain qualities of mind, and to qualities of body to which they have some analogy ; yet he would err greatly who ascribed to a body that sweetness or that simplicity which are the qualities of mind. In like manner, great- ness and meanness are names common to qualities perceived by the external sense, and to qualities per- ceived by taste ; yet he may be in an error, who ascribes to the objects of sense that greatness or that meanness which is only an object of taste. As intellectual objects are made more level to our apprehension by giving them a visible form, so the ob- jects of sense are dignified and made more august by ascribing to them intellectual qualities which have some analogy to those they really possess. The sea rages, the sky lowers, the meadows smile, the rivulets murmur, the breezes whisper, the soil is grateful or un- grateful, — such expressions are so familiar in common language, that they are scarcely accounted poetical or figurative ; but they give a kind of dignity to inanimate objects, and make our conception of them more agree- able. When we consider matter as an inert, extended, di- visible, and movable substance, there seems to be noth- ing in these qualities which we can call grand ; and when we ascribe grandeur to any portion of matter, however modified, may it not borroio this qualitij from something intellectual, of which it is the effect, or sign, or instrument, or to which it bears some analogy ? or it may be because it produces in the mind an emotion that has some resemblance to that admiration which truly grand objects raise. 466 TASTE. A very elegant writer on the sublime and beautiful {Burke] makes every thing grand or sublime that is terrible. Might he not be led to this by the similarity between dread and admiration ? Both are grave and solemn passions ; both make a strong impression upon the mind ; and both are very infectious. But they differ specifically, in this respect.^ that admiration sup- poses some uncommon excellence in its object^ which dread does not. We may admire what we see no rea- son to dread ; and we may dread what we do not ad- mire. In dread there is nothing of that enthusiasm which naturally accompanies admiration, and is a chief ingredient of the emotion raised by what is truly grand or sublime. Upon the whole, I humbly apprehend that true grand- eur is such a degree of excellence as is fit to raise an enthusiastical admiration ; that this grandeur is found originally and properly in qualities of mind ; that it is discerned in objects of sense only by reflection, as the light we perceive in the moon and planets is truly the light of the sun ; and that those who look for grandeur in mere matter seek the living among the dead. If this be a mistake, it ought at least to be granted that the grandeur which we perceive in qualities of mind ought to have a different name from that which belongs properly to the objects of sense, as they are very different in their nature, and produce very different emo- tions in the mind of the spectator. III. Third Object of Taste,- — Beauty.] All the ob- jects we call beautiful agree in two things, which seem to concur in our sense of beauty. Firsts when they are perceived, or even imagined, they produce a certain agreeable emotion or feeling in theVnind; and secondly^ this agreeable emotion is accompanied with an opinion or belief of their having some perfection or excellence belonging lo them. 1. Whether the pleasure ive feel in contemplating" beautiful objects may have any necessary connection with the belief of their excellence, or whether that pleas- ITS OBJ EC'Vii. HEAUTY. 467 ure be conjoined with this belief by the good pleasure only of our Maker, I will not determine. The reader may see Dr. Price's sentiments upon this subject, which merit consideration, in the second chapter of his Revieiv of the Questions concerning' Morals, At any rate, the pleasure exists. " There is nothing," says Mr. Addison, " that makes its way more directly to the soul than beauty, which immediately diffuses a secret satisfaction and complacence through the imagination, and gives a finishing to any thing that is great and uncommon. The very first discovery of it strikes the mind with an inward joy, and spreads a cheerfulness and delight through all its faculties." As we ascribe beauty, not only to persons, but to in- animate things, we give the name of love or liking; to the emotion which beauty, in both these kinds of ob- jects, produces. It is evident, however, that liking to a person is a very different affection of mind from liking to an inanimate thing. The first always implies benev- olence ; but what is inanimate cannot be the object oi benevolence. Still, the two affections, however differ- ent, have a resemblance in some respects ; and, on ac- count of that resemblance, have the same name : and perhaps beauty, in these two different kinds of objects, though it has one name, may be as different in its na- ture as the emotions which it produces in us. 2. Besides the agreeable emotion which beautiful ob- jects produce in the mind of the spectator, they produce also an opinion or judgment of some perfection or excel- lence in the object. The feeling is, no doubt, in the mind, and so also is the judgment we form of the object : but this judgment, like all others, must be true or false. If it be a true judgment, there is some real excellence in the object. And the use of all languages shows, that the name of beaut?/ belongs to this excellence of the object, and not to the feelings of the spectator. We have reason to believe, not only that the beau- ties we see in nature are real, and not fanciful, but that there are thousands which our faculties are too dull to 468 TASTE. perceive. The man who is skilled in painting or statuary sees more of the beauty of a fine picture or statue than a common spectator. The same thing holds in all the fine arts. The most perfect works of art have a beauty that strikes even the rude and ignorant ; but they see only a small part of that beauty which is seen in such works by those who understand them perfectly, and can produce them. This may be applied with no less jus- tice to the works of nature. They have a beauty that strikes even the ignorant and inattentive. But the more we discover of their structure, of their mutual re- lations, and of the laws by which they are governed, the greater beauty, and the more delightful marks of art, wisdom, and goodness, we discern. Superior be- ings may see more than we ; but He only who made them, and upon a review pronounced them all to be " very good," can see all their beauty. Our determinations with regard to the beauty of ob- jects may, I think, be distinguished into two kinds ; the first we may call instinctive^ the other rational. (1.) Some objects strike us at once, and appear beau- tiful at first sight, without any reflection, without our being able to say why we call them beautiful, or being able to specify any perfection which justifies our judg- ment. Something of this kind there seems to be in brute animals, and in children before the use of reason ; nor does it end with infancy, but continues through life. In the plumage 6i birds, and of butterflies, in the colors and form of flowers, of shells, and of many other objects, we perceive a beauty that delights ; but cannot say what it is in the object that should produce that emotion. The beauty of the object may, in such cases, be called an occult quality. We know well how it affects our senses ; but what it is in itself we know not. But this, as well as other occult qualities, is a proper subject of philosopbical disquisition ; and, by a careful exam- ination of the objects to which nature has given this amiable quality, we may perhaps discover some real excellence in the object, or at least some valuable pur- ITS OBJECTS. BEAUTY. 469 pof^e that is served by the eflect which it produces upon us. This instinctive sense of beauty, in different species of animals, may differ as much as the external sense of taste, and in each species be adapted to its manner of Ufe. By this, perhaps, the various tribes are led to as- sociate with their kind, to dwell among certain objects rather than others, and to construct then* habitation in a particular manner. There seem likewise to be varie- ties in the sense of beauty in the individuals of the same species, by which they are directed in the choice of a mate, and in the love and care of their offspring. " We see," says Mr. Addison, " that every different spe- cies of sensible creatures has its diff"erent notions of beauty, and that each of them is most affected with the beauties of its own kind. This is nowhere more re- markable than in birds of the same shape and propor- tion, where we often see the mate determined in his courtship by the single grain or tincture of a feather, and never discovering any charms but in the color of its own species." " Scit thalamo servare fidem, sanctasque veretur Connubii leges ; non ilium in pectore candor Sollicitat niveus ; neque pravum accendit amorem Splendida lanugo, vel honesta in vertice crista ; Purpureusve nitor pennarum ; ast agmina late Foeminea explorat cautus, maculasque requirit Cognatas, paribusque inteiiita corpora guttis : Ni faceret, pictis sylvam circum undique monstris Confusam aspiceres vulgo, partusque biformes, Et genus ambiguum, et veneris monumenta nefandse. Hinc merula in nigro se oblectat nigra marito ; Hinc socium lasciva petit philomela canorum, Agnoscitque pares sonitus ; hinc noctua tetram Canitiem alarum, et glaucos miratur ocellos. Nempe sibi semper constat, crescitque quotannis Lucida progenies, castos confessa parentes : Vera novo exultat, plumasque decora juventus Explicat ad solem, patriisque coloribus ardet." As far as our determinations of the comparative beauty of objects are instinctive, they are no subject of reasoning or of criticism ; they are pm'ely the gilt of nature, and we have no standard by which they may be measured. 40 470 TASTEe (2.) But there are judgments of beauty that may be called rational^ being grounded on some agreeable qual- ity of the object which is distinctly conceived, and may be specified. This distinction between a rational judgment of beauty and that which is instinctive, may be illustrated by an instance. In a heap of pebbles, one that is re- markable for brilliancy of color and regularity of figure will be picked out of the heap by a child. He perceives a beauty in it, puts a value upon it, and is fond of the property of it. For this preference no reason can be given, but that children are, by their constitution, fond of brilliant colors, and of regular figures. Suppose, again, that an expert mechanic views a well-constructed machine. He sees all its parts to be made of the fittest materials, and of the most proper form ; nothing super- fluous, nothing deficient ; every part adapted to its use, and the whole fitted in the most perfect manner to the end for which it is intended. He pronounces it to be a beautiful machine. He views it with the same agree- able emotion as the child viewed the pebble ; but he can give a reason for his judgment, and point out the particular perfections of the object on which it is grounded. Although the instinctive and the rational sense of beauty may be perfectly distinguished in speculation, yet, in passing judgment upon particular objects, they are often so mixed and confounded, that it is difficult to assign to each its own province. Nay, it may often happen, that a judgment of the beauty of an object, which was at first merely instinctive, shall afterwards become rational, when we discover some latent perfec- tion of which that beauty in the object is a sign. , As the sense of beauty may be distinguished into in- stinctive and rational ; so, I think, beauty itself may be distinguished into original and derived. The attributes of body we ascribe to mind, and the attributes of mind to material objects. To inanimate things we ascribe life, and even intellectual and moral qualities. And although tlie qualities that are thus ITS OBJECTS. — BKAIJTY. 471 nade common belong to one of the subjects in the proper sense, and to the other metaphorically, these different senses are often so mixed in our imagination, as to produce the same sentiment with regard to both. It is therefore natural, and agreeable to the strain of human sentiments and of human language, that in many cases the beauty which originally and properly is in the thing signified, should be transferred to the sign ; that w^hich is in the cause, to the effect ; that which is in the end, to the means ; and that which is in the agent, to the instrument. If what was just said of the distinction between the grandeur which we ascribe to qualities of mind, and that which we ascribe to material objects, be well founded, this distinction of the beauty of objects will easily be admitted as perfectly analogous to it. I shall, therefore, only illustrate it by an example. There is nothing in the exterior of a man more lovely and more attractive than perfect good breeding. But what is this good breeding ? It consists of all the ex- ternal signs of due respect to our superiors, condescen- sion to our inferiors, politeness to all with whom we converse or have to do, joined in the fair sex with that delicacy of outward behaviour which becomes them. And how comes it to have such charms in the eyes of all mankind ? For this reason only, as I apprehend, that it is a natural sign of that temper, and those affec- tions and sentiments with regard to others, and with re- gard to ourselves, which are in themselves truly amiable and beautiful. This is the original, of which good breeding is the picture ; and it is the beauty of the original that is reflected to our sense by the pictm-e. The beauty of good breeding, therefore, is not originally in the external behaviour in which it consists, bat is derived from the qualities of mind which it expresses. And though there may be good breeding without the amiable qualities of mind, its beauty is still derived from what it naturally expresses. Having explained these distinctions of our sease of beauty into instinctive and rational^ and of beauty itself 472 TASTE. into original and derived, I would now proceed to give a general view of those qualities in objects to which we may justly and rationally ascribe beauty, whether original or derived. But here some embarrassment arises from the vague meaning of the word beauty, which I had occasion be- fore to observe. Sometimes it is extended, so as to include every thing that pleases a good taste, and so comprehends grandeur and novelty, as well as what in a more restricted sense is called beauty. At other times, it is even by good writers confined to the objects of sight, when they are either seen, or remembered, or imagined. Yet it is admitted by all men, that there are beauties in music ; that there is beauty as well as sublimity in composition, both in verse and in prose ; that there is beauty in characters, in affections, and in actions. These are not objects of sight ; and a man may be a good judge of beauty of various kinds, who has not the faculty of sight. To give a determinate meaning to a word so va- riously extended and restricted, I know no better way than what is suggested by the common division of the objects of taste into novelty, grandeur, and beauty. Novelty, it is plain, is no quality of the new object, but merely a relation which it has to the knowledge of the person to whom it is new. Therefore, if this general division be just, every quality in an object that pleases a good taste must, in one degree or another, have either grandeur or beauty. It may still be difficult to fix the precise limit betwixt grandeur and beauty ; but they must together comprehend every thing fitted by its nature to please a good taste, — that is, every real perfection and excellence in the objects ^ve contem- plate. In a poem, in a picture, in a piece of music, it is real excellence that pleases a good taste. In a person, every perfection of the mind, moral or intellectual, and every perfection of the body, gives pleasure to the spectator as well as to the owner, when there is no envy or ma- lignity to destroy that pleasure. It is therefore in the ITS OBJECTS. — BEAUTY. 473 scale of perfection and real, excellence that we must look for what is either grand or beautiful in objects. What is the proper object of admiration is grand^ and what is the proper object of love and esteem is beaiUifuL This, I thinkj is the only notion of beauty that corre- sponds with the division of the objects of taste which has been generally received by philosophers. And this connection of beauty with real. perfection was a capital doctrine of the Socratic school. It is often ascribed to Socrates in the dialogues of Plato and of Xeno- phon. I apprehend, therefore, that it is in the moral and in- tellectual perfections of mind^ and in its active powers, that beauty originally dwells ; and that from this, as the fountain, all the beauty which we perceive in the visible world is derived. This, I think, was the opinion of the ancient philoso- phers before named ; and it has been adopted by Lord Shaftesbury and Dr. Akenside among the moderns. - "iliiW, mind alone! bear witness earth and heaven, The living fountains in itself contains ^ Of beauteous and sublime. Here hand in hand Sit paramount the graces. Here enthroned, Celestial Venus, with divinest airs, Invites the soul to never-fading joy." But neither mind, nor any of its qualities or powers, is an immediate object of perception to man. We are, indeed, immediately conscious of the operations of our own mind; and every degree of perfection in them gives the purest pleasure, with a proportional degree of self-esteem, so flattering to self-love, that the great difficulty is to keep it within just bounds, so that we may not think of ourselves above what we ought to think. Other minds we perceive only through the medium of material objects, on w^hich their signatures are im- pressed. It is through this medium that we perceive life, activity, wisdom, and every moral and intellectual quality in other beings. The signs of those qualities are immediately perceived by tlie senses ; by them the 40* 474 TASTE. qualities themselves are reflected to our understanding, and we are very apt to attribute to the sign the beauty or the grandeur which is properly and originally in the things signified. Thus the beauties of mind, though invisible in them- selves, are perceived in the objects of sense, on which their image is impressed. If we consider, on the other hand, the qualities in sensible objects to which we ascribe beauty, I appre- hend we shall find in all of them some relation to mind, and the greatest in those that are most beautiful. The qualities of inanimate matter, in which we per- ceive beauty, are sounds color ^ form^ and motion; the first an object of hearings the other three of sight; which we may consider in order. 1. In a single note^ sounded by a very fine voice, there is a beauty which we do not perceive in the same note, sounded by a bad voice, or an imperfect instru- ment. I need not attempt to enumerate the perfections in a single note which give beauty to it. Some of them have names in the science of music, and there perhaps are others which have no names. But I think it will be allowed, that every quality which gives beauty to a single note is a sign of some perfection, either in the organ, whether it be the human voice or an instru- ment, or in the execution. The beauty of the sound is both the sign and the effect of this perfection ; and the perfection of the cause is the only reason we can assign for the beauty of the effect. In a composition of sounds, or a piece of music, the beauty is either in the harmony^ the melody^ or the ex- pression. The beauty of expression must be derived either from the beauty of the thing expressed, or from the art and skill employed in expressing it properly. In harmony, the very names of concord and discord are metaphorical, and suppose some analogy between the relations of sound, to which they are figuratively applied, and the relations of minds and affections which they originally and properly signify. As far as I can judge by my ear, when two or more persons of a good ITS OBJECTS. BEAUTY. 475 voice and ear converse together in amity and friend- ship, the tones of their different voices are concordant, but become discordant when they give vent to angry passions; so that, without hearing what is said, one may know by the tones of the different voices whether they quarrel or converse amicably. This, indeed, is not so easily perceived in those who have been taught, by good breeding, to suppress angry tones of voice, even when they are angry, as in the lowest ranks, who express their angry passions without any restraint. When discord arises occasionally in conversation, but soon terminates in perfect amity, we receive more pleasure than from perfect unanimity. In like manner, in the harmony of music, discordant sounds are occa- sionally introduced, but it is always in order to give a relish to the most perfect concord that follows. Whether these analogies between the harmony of a piece of music and harmony in the intercourse of minds be merely fanciful, or have any real foundation in fact, I submit to those who have a nicer ear, and have ap- plied it to observations of this kind. If they have any just foundation, as they seem to me to have, they serve to account for the metaphorical application of the names of concord and discord to the relations of sounds ; to account for the pleasure we have from har- mony in music ; and to show that the beauty of har- mony is derived from the relation it has to agreeable affections of mind. With regard to melody, I leave it to the adepts in the science of music to determine whether music, com- posed according to the established rules of harmony and melody, can be altogether void of expression ; and whether music that has no expression can have any beauty. To me it seems, that every strain in melody that is agreeable is an imitation of the tones of the human voice in the expression of some sentiment or passion, or an imitation of some other object in nature ; and that music, as well as poetry, is an imitative art. 2. The sense of beauty in the colors and in the mo- tions of inanimate objects is, I believe, in some caseS; 476 ' TASTE. instinctive. We see that children and savages are pleased with brilliant colors and sprightly motions. In persons of an improved and rational taste, there are many som'ces from which colors and motions may de- rive their beauty. They, as well as the forms of ob- jects, admit of regularity and variety. The motions produced by machinery indicate the perfection or im- perfection of the mechanism, and may be better or worse adapted to their end, and from that derive their beauty or deformxity. The colors of natural objects are commonly signs of some good or bad quality in the object ; or they may suggest to the imagination something agreeable or dis- agreeable. A number of clouds of difterent and ever- changing hue, seen on the ground of a serene azure sky at the going down of the sun, present to the eye of every man a glorious spectacle. It is hard to say, whether we should call it grand or beautiful. It is both in a hi^h deforce. Clouds towerinsf above clouds, variously tinged, according as they approach nearer to the direct rays of the sun, enlarge our conceptions of the regions above us. They give us a view of the fur- niture of those regions, which, in an unclouded air, seem to be a perfect void ; but are now seen to contain the stores of wind and rain, bound up for the present, but to be poured down upon the earth in due season. Even the simple rustic does not look upon this beauti- ful sky merely as a show to please the eye, but as a happy omen of fine weather to come. 3. If we consider, in the last place, the beauty of form or figure in inanimate objects, this, according to Dr. Hutcheson, results from regularity, mixed with va- riety. Here it ought to be observed, that regularity, in all cases, expresses design and art : for nothing regular was ever the work of chance; and where regularity is joined with variety, it expresses design more strongly. Besides, it has been justly observed, that regular figures are more easily and more perfectly comprehended by the mind than the irregular, of vdiich we can never form an adequate conception. ITS OBJECTS. BEAUTY, 477 Although straight lines and plane surfaces have a beauty from their regularity, they admit of no variety, and therefore are beauties of the lowest order. Curve lines and surfaces admit of infinite variety, joined with every degree of regularity; and therefore, in many cases, excel in beauty those that are straight. But the beauty arising from regularity and variety must always yield to that which arises from the fitness of the form for the end intended. In every thing made for an end, the form must be adapted to that end ; and every thing in the form that suits the end is a beauty ; every thing that unfits it for its end is a deformity. The forms of a pillar, of a sword, and of a balance, are very different. Each may have great beauty; but that beauty is derived from the fitness of the form and of the matter for the purpose intended. The beauties of the vegetable kingdom are far supe- rior to those of inanimate matter, in any form which human art can give it. The beauties of the field, of the forest, and of the flower-garden, strike a child long before he can reason. He is delighted with what he sees ; but he knows not why. This is instinct, but it is not confined to childhood; it continues through all the stages of life. It leads the florist, the botanist, the philosopher, to examine and compare the objects which nature, by this powerful instinct, recommends to his attention. *By degrees he becomes a critic in beauties of this kind, and can give a reason why he prefers one to another. In every species he sees the greatest beauty in the plants or flowers that are most perfect in their kind, which have neither suffered from unkindly soil nor inclement weather ; which have not been robbed of their nourishment by other plants, nor hurt by any accident. When he examines the internal structure of those productions of natiu'e, and traces them from their embryo state in the seed to their maturity, he sees a thousand beautiful contrivances of nature, which feast his understanding more than their external form de- lighted his eye. In the animal kingdom we perceive still greater beau- 478 ^ TASTE. ties than in the vegetable. Here we observe life, and sense, and activity, various instincts and afiections, and in many cases great sagacity. These are attributes of mind, and have an original beauty. As we allow to brute animals a thinking principle or mind, though far inferior to that which is in man, and as, in many of their intellectual and active powers, they very much resemble the human species, their actions, their mo- tions, and even their looks, derive a beauty from the powers of thought which they express. There is a wonderful variety in their manner of life ; and we find the powders they possess, their outward form, and their inward structure, exactly adapted to it. In every spe- cies, the more perfectly any individual is fitted for its end and manner of life, the greater is its beauty. But of all the objects of sense, the most striking and attractive beauty is perceived in the human species, and particularly in woman. Milton represents Satan him- self, in surveying the furniture of this globe, as struck with the beauty of the first happy pair. " Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall, Godlike erect ! witli native lionor clad In naked majesty, seemed lords of all. And worthy seemed, for in their looks divine, The image of their glorious Maker, shone Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure 5 Severe, but in true filial freedom placed. Whence true authority in man ; though bo*ii Not equal, as their sex not equal, seemed : For contemplation he and valor formed, For softness she, and sweet attractive grace." In this well-known passage of Milton, we see that this great poet derives the beauty of the first pair in paradise from those expressions of moral and intellectual qualities which appeared in their outward form and de- meanour. I It cannot, indeed, be denied, that the expression of a fine countenance may be unnaturally disjoined from the amiable qualities which it naturally expresses : but we presume the contrary till we have clear evidence ; and even then we pay homage to the expression, as we ITS OBJECTS. BEAUTY. 479 do to the throne when it happens to be unworthily filled.* * Of later works on the philosophy of taste, the following are among the most important: — Kant, Kritik der Urtheilskraft und Beohachtungen Tiber das Gefuhl des SchOnen und Erhahenen (translated into French by J. Barni, Critique du Jugement, &c.) ; Sclileiermacher, Vbrlesungen ilber die j^sthetik ; Weisse, System der ^sthetik als Wissenschaft von der Idee der Schonheit ; Hegel, Cours d' Esthetique analyse et traduit de VAllemand^ par M. Benard; Jouffroy, Cours d' Esthetique ; Alison's Essays on the Nature and Principles of Taste ; Stewart's Philosophical Essays^ Part II. ; Knight's Analytical Inquiry into the Principles of Taste ; Schiller's j^Esthetic Letters^ Essays^ &c., translated by J. Weiss ; Daniel's Philosophy of the Beautiful^ from the French of Cousin. — Ed. .^^. ■:'f\K ---fcVwfta.-- --.*■- "--v —^-•^ — - APPENDIX. SIR W. HAMILTON'S DOCTRINE OF COMMON SENSE AND THEORY OF PERCEPTION. — NATURAL REALISM.— PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE.* Our cognitions, it is evident, are not all at second hand. Consenuents cannot, by an infinite regress, be evolved out of antecedents, which are themselves only consequents. Demon- stration, if proof be possible, behooves to repose at last on propositions, which, carrying their own evidence, necessitate their own admission ; and which being, as primary, inexplica- ble, as inexplicable, incomprehensible, must consequently mani- fest themselves less in the character of cognitions than of facts, of which consciousness assures us under the simple form of feeling or belief Without at present attempting to determine the character, number, and relations — waiviiig, in short, all attempt at an articulate analysis and classification — of the primary elements of cognition, as carrying us into a discussion beyond our limits, and not of indispensable importance for the end we have in view ; t it is sufficient to have it conceded, in general, that such * This Appendix consists of selections from the Supplementary Disser- tations to Hamilton's edition of Reid, Notes A, B, and C. They will give, it is hoped, a faithful sketch of his doctrine on some of the cardinal points in his system 5 but justice to the author — one of the most acute philoso- phers of the present age, and one of the most erndite philosophers of any age — requires that they should be read and studied in the connection in which they stand. Here, as elsewhere, the references of the author to his own Notes are retained, though but a small proportion, numerically con- sidered, have as yet appeared. — Ed. t Such an analysis and classification is, however, in itself certainly one of the most interesting and important problems of philosophy; and it is 4i 482 APPENDIX. elements there are ; and this concession of their existence being supposed, I shall proceed to hazard some observations, princi- pally in regard to their authority as warrants and criteria of truth. Nor can this assumption of the existence of some origi- nal bases of knowledge in the mind itself be refused by any. For even those philosophers who profess to derive all our knowledge from experience, and who admit no universal truths of intelligence but such as are generalized from individual truths of fact, — even these philosophers are forced virtually to acknowledge, at the root of the several acts of observation from which their generalization starts, some law or principle to which they can appeal as guaranteeing the procedure, should the validity of these primordial acts themselves be called in ques- tion. This acknowledgment is, among others, made even by Locke ; and on such fundamental guarantee of induction he even bestows the name of Common Sense. Limiting, therefore, our consideration to the question of au- thority, how, it is asked, do these primary propositions, these cognitions at first hand, these fundamental facts, feelings, be- liefs, certify us of their own veracity ? To this the only pos- sible answer is, that, as elements of our mental constitution, as the essential conditions of our knowledge, they must by us be one in which much remains to be accomplished. Pnnci]3les of cognition, which now stand as ultimate, may, I think, be reduced to simpler ele- ments ; and some, which are now viewed as direct and positive, may be shown to be merely indirect and negative ; their cogency depending, not on the immediate necessity of thinking them, — for if carried uncondition- ally out they are themselves incogitable, — but in the impossibility of thinking something to which they are directly opposed, and from which they are the immediate recoils. An 'exposition of the axiom, — that posi- tive thought lies in the limitation or conditioning of one or other of two opposite extremes, neither of which, as unconditioned, can be realized to the mind as possible, and yet of which, as contradictories, one or other must, by the fundamental laws of thought, be recognized as necessary; — the exposition of this great but unenounced axiom would show that some of the most illustrious principles are only its subordinate modifications, as applied to certain primary notions, intuitions, data, forms, or categories of intelligence, as Existence, Quantity (protcnsive, Time ; extensive. Space ; intensive. Degree), Quality, &c. Such modifications, for example, are the principles of Cause and Effect, Substance and Phenomenon, &c. I may here also observe, that, though the primary truths of fact arid the primary truths of intelligence ( the contingent and necessary truths of Keid) form two very distinct classes of the original beliefs or intuitions of -con- sciousness, there appears no sufficient ground to regard their sources as diflcrcnt, and therefore to be distinguished by different names. In this I reirret tlint T am unrblc to agree with Mr. Stewart. See his Elements^ Vol. li. Cluip. I.. i{\\{\ hi.- Attunnf of Bvid. Sect II , near the end. COMMON SENSE. 483 accepted as true. To suppose their falsehood is to suppose that we are created capable of intelligence in order to be made the victims of delusion ; that God is a deceiver, and the root of our nature a lie. But such a supposition, if gratuitous, is manifestly illegitimate. For, on the contrary, the data of our original consciousness must, it is evident, in the first instance^ be presumed true. It is only if proved false, that their authority can, in consequence of that proof be, in the second instance, disallowed. Speaking, therefore, generally, to argue from common sense IS simply to show, that the denial of a given proposition would involve the denial of some original datum of consciousness. In this case, as every original datum of consciousness is to be pre- sumed true, the proposition in question, as dependent on such a principle, must be admitted. This being understood, the following propositions are either self-evident, or admit of easy proof: — 1. The end of philosophy is truth ; and consciousness is the instrument and criterion of its acquisition. In other words, philosophy is the development and application of the consti- tutive and normal truths which consciousness immediately re- veals. 2. Philosophy is thus wholly dependent upon consciousness ; the possibility of the former supposing the trustworthiness of the latter. 3. Consciousness is to be presumed trustworthy, until proved mendacious. 4. The mendacity of consciousness is proved, if its data, im- mediately in themselves, or mediately in their necessary conse- quences, be shown to stand in mutual contradiction. 5. The immediate or mediate repugnance of any two of its , data being established, the presumption in favor of the general veracity of consciousness is abolished, or rather reversed. For while, on the one hand, all that is not contradictory is not there- fore true ; on the other, a positive proof of falsehood, in one instance, establishes a presumption of probable falsehood in all ; for the maxim, " Falsus ui uno^ falsus in omnibus ^''^ must determine the credibility of consciousness, as the credibility of every other witness. 6. No attempt to show that the data of consciousness are (either in themselves or in their necessary consequences) mu- tually contradictory has yet succeeded ; and the presumption in favor of the truth of consciousness and the possibility of phi- 484 APPENDIX. losophy has, therefore, never been redargued. In other words, an original, universal, dogmatic subversion of knowledge iias hitherto been found impossible. 7. No philosopher has ever formally denied the truth or dis- 'claimed the authority of consciousness ; but few or none have been content implicitly to accept and consistently to follow out its dictates. Instead of humbly resorting to consciousness, to draw from thence his doctrines and their proof, each dogmatic speculator looked only into consciousness, there to discover his preadopted opinions. In philosophy, men have abused the code of natural, as, in theology, the code of positive, revelation ; and the epigraph of a great Protestant divine on the book of Scrip- ture is certainly not less applicable to the book of conscious- ness : — " Hie liber est in quo quserit sua dogmata quisque ; Invenit, et pariter dogmata quisque sua." 8. The first and most obtrusive consequence of this procedure has been, the multiplication of philosophical systems in every conceivable aberration from the unity of truth. 9. The second, but less obvious, consequence has been, the virtual surrender, by each several system, of the possibility of philosophy in general. For, as the possibility of philosophy supposes the absolute truth of consciousness, every system which proceeded on the hypothesis, that even a single deliver- ance of consciousness is untrue, did, however it might eschew the overt declaration, thereby invalidate the general credibility of consciousness, and supply to the skeptic the premises he required to subvert philosophy, in so far as that system repre- sented it. 10. And yet, although the past history of philosophy has, in a great measure, been only a history of variation and error {variasse erroris est) ; yet, the cause of this variation being known, we obtain a valid ground of hope for the destiny of philosophy in future. Because, since philosophy has hitherto been inconsistent with itself only in being inconsistent with the dictates of our natural beliefs, — 'Tor Truth is catholic and Nature one," — it follows, that philosophy has simply to return to natural con- sciousness, to return to unity and truth. In doing this, we have only to attend to the three following maxims or precautions r — ' . THEORY OF PERCEPTION. ' 485 1^, That we omit nothing, not either an original datum of consciousness, or the legitimate consequence of such a datum ; 2°, That we embrace all the original data of consciousness, and all their legitimate consequences ; and, 3°, That we exhibit each of these in its individual integrity, neither distorted nor m.utilated, and in its relative place, whether of preeminence or subordination. Nor can it be contended that consciousness has spoken in so feeble or ambiguous a voice, that philosophers have misappre- hended or misunderstood her enouncements. On the contrary, they have been usually agreed about the fact and purport of the deliverance, differing only as to the mode in which they might evade or qualify its acceptance. This I shall illustrate by a memorable example, — by one in reference to the very cardinal point of philosophy. In the act of sensible perception, I am conscious of two things ; — of iny- self as the perceiving subject^ and of an external reality^ in relation with my sense, as the object perceived. Of the exist- ence of both these things I am convinced ; because I am con- scious of knowing each of them, not mediately in something else, as rej)resented., but immediately in itself, as existing. Of their mutual independence I am no less convinced ; because each is apprehended equally, and at once, in the same indivisi- ble energy, the one not preceding or determining, the other not following or determined ; and because each is apprehended out of, and in direct contrast to, the other. Such is the fact of perception, as given in consciousness, and . as it affords to mankind in general the conjunct assurance they ' possess of their own existence, and of the existence of an ex- ternal world. Nor are the contents of the deliverance, con- sidered as a pJieno?7ienon., denied by those who still hesitate to admit the truth of its testimony. The contents of the fact of perception, as given in con- sciousness, being thus established, what are the consequences to philosophy, according as the truth of its testimony (I.) is., or (II.) is not., admitted ? I. On the former alternative, the veracity of consciousness, in the fact of perception, being unconditionally acknowledged, we have established at once, without hypothesis or demonstra- tion, the reality of mind and the reality of matter ; while no concession is yielded to the skeptic, through which he may sub- vert philosophy in manifesting its self-contradiction. The one 43^ 486 APPENDIX. legitimate doctrine, thus possible, may be called Natural Real- ism or Natural Dualism. 11. On the latter alternative, fve great variations from truth and nature may be conceived, r — and all of these have actually found their advocates, — according as the testimony of con- sciousness, in the fact of perception, (A.) is wholly^ or (B.) is •partially^ rejected. A. If tvJiolly rejected, that is, if nothing but the phenomenal reality of the fact itself be allowed, the result is Nihilism. This may be conceived either as a dogmatical or as a skeptical opin- ion ; and Hume and Fichte have competently shown, that, if the truth of consciousness be not unconditionally recognized. Nihilism is the conclusion in which our speculation, if consist- ent with itself, must end. B. On the other hand, if partially rejected, four schemes emerge, according to the way in which the fact is tampered with. i. If the veracity of consciousness be allowed to the equi- poise of the subject and object in the act, but disallowed to the reality of their antithesis, the system of Ahsolute Identity (whereof Pantheism is the corollary) arises, which reduces mind and matter to phenomenal modifications of the same com- mon substance. ii., iii. Again, if the testimony of consciousness be refused to the eq-ual originality and reciprocal independence of the sub- ject and object in perception, two unitarian schemes are deter- mined, according as the one or as the other of these correlatives is supposed the prior and genetic. *Is the object educed from the subject ? Idealism; is the subject educed from the object? Materialism.^ is the result. iv. Finally, if the testimony of consciousness to our knoivl- edge of an external world existing be rejected, with the Idealist, but, with the Realist, the existence of that world be affirmed ; we have a scheme which, as it by many various hypotheses endeavours, on the one hand, not to give up the reality of an unknown material- universe, and, on tne other, to explain the ideal illusion of its cognition, may be called the doctrine of Cosmothetic Idealism^ Hypothetical Realism^ or Hypothetical Dualism. This last, though the most vacillating, inconsequent, and self-contradictory of all systems, is the one which, as less obnoxious in its acknowledged consequences (being a kind of compromise between speculation and common sense), has found favor with the immense majority of philosophers. THEORY OF PERCEPTION. 487 From the rejection of the fact of consciousness in this ex- ample of perception, we have thus, in the first place, multi- phcity, speculative variation, error; in the second, systems practically dangerous ; and, in the third, the incompetence of an appeal to the common sense of mankind by any of these systems against the conclusions of others. Now, there are only two of the preceding theories of percep- tion, with one or other of which Reid's doctrine can possibly be identified. He is a Dualist ; — and the only doubt is, whether he be a Natural Realist^ or a Hypothetical Realist^ under the finer form of Egoistical Representationism, The cause why Reid left the character of his doctrine am- biguous on this the very cardinal point of his philosophy, is to be found in the following circumstances : — 1°, That, in general, (although the same may be said of all other philosophers,) he never discriminated, either speculatively or historically, the three theories of Real Presentationism, of Egoistical, and of Non-Egoistical, Representationism. 2°, That, in particular, he never clearly distinguished the first and second of these, as not only different, but contrasted, theo- ries. 3°, That, while right in regarding philosophers, in general, as Cosmothetic Idealists, he erroneously supposed that they were all, or nearly all, Non-Egoistical Representationists. And, — 4°, That he viewed the theory of Non-Egoistical Represen- tationism as that form alone of Cosmothetic Idealism which, when carried to its legitimate issue, ended in Absolute Idealism ; whereas the other form of Cosmothetic Idealism, the theory of Egoistical Representationism, whether speculatively or histori- cally considered, is, with at least equal rigor, to be developed into the same result. Dr. Thomas Brown considers Reid to be, like himself, a Cosmothetic Idealist, under the finer form of Egoistical Repre- sentationism ; but without assigning any reason for this belief, except one which, as I have elsewhere shov/n, is altogether nugatory.* For my own part, I am decidedly of opinion, that, * Edinburgh Review, Vol. LII. pp. 173 - 175. In saying:, however, on that occasion, that Dr. Brown was guilty of "a reversal of the real and even unambiguous import " of Reid's doctrine of perception, I feel called upon to admit that the latter epithet is too strong ; — for, on grounds totally different from the untenable one of Brown, I am now about to show that Reid's doctrine on this point is doubtful. This admission does 488 APPENDIX. a^ the great end, the governing principle, of Reid's doctrine was to reconcile philosophy with the necessary convictions of mankind, he intended a doctrine of natural^ consequently a doctrine of presentative^ realism ; and that he would have at once surrendered,' as erroneous, every statement which was found at variance with such a doctrine. The distinction of immediate and mediate cognition it is of the highest importance to establish ; for it is one without which the whole philosophy of knowledge must remain involved in ambiguities. What, for example, can be more various, vacil- lating, and contradictory, than the employment of the all-impor- tant terms object and objective^ in contrast to subject and subjec- tive^ in the writings of Kant ? — though the same is true of those of other recent philosophers. This arose from the want of a pre- liminary determination of the various, and even opposite, mean- ings- of which these terms are susceptible, — a selection of the one proper meaning, — and a rigorous adherence to the mean- ing thus preferred. But, in particular, the doctrine of Natural Realism cannot, without this distinction, be adequately under- stood, developed, and discriminated. Reid, accordingly, in consequence of the want of it, has not only failed in giving to his philosophy its precise and appropriate expression, he has failed even in withdrawing it from equivocation and confusion ; — insomuch, that it even remains a question, whether his doc- trine be one of Natural Realism at all. The following is a more articulate development of this important distinction than that which I gave some ten years ago ; and since, by more than one philosopher, adopted.^' 1. A thing is known immediately or proximately^ when we cognize it in itself ; mediately or remotely^ when we cognize it in or through something numerically different from itself Im- . mediate cognition, thus the knowledge of a thing in itself, in- volves the fact of its existence ; mediate cognition, thus the knowledge of a thing in or through something not itself, involves only the possibility of its existence. 2. An immediate cognition, inasmuch as the thing known is not, however, imply that Brown is not, from first to last, — is not in one and all of his strictures on Reid's doctrine of perception, as there shown, — wholly in error. * See Edinburgh Revieiv^ Vol. LII. p. 166 et seq. ; Cross's Selections from the Edinburgh Review^ Vol. III. p. 200 et seq.; Peisse, Fragments Philoso phiqueSj p. 75 et seq. PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 489 itself presented to observation, may be called a preventative^ and inasmuch as the thing presented is, as it were, viewed hj the mind face to face ^ may be called an intuitive^ cognition. — A mediate cognition, inasmuch as the thing known "is held up or mirrored to the mind in a vicarious representation^ may be called a representative * cognition. - 3. A thing known is called an ohject of knowledge. 4. In a presentative or immediate cognition there is one sole olject ; the thing (im.mediately) known and the thing existing being one and the same. — In a representative or mediate cog- nition there may be discriminated two ohjects ; the thing (imme- diately) known and the thing existing being numerically dif- ferent. 5. A thing known in itself is the (sole) presentative or in- tuitive ohject of knowledge, or the (sole) object of a presenta- tive or intuitive knowledge. — A thing known in and through something else is the primary., mediate., remote., real., existent., or represented olject of (mediate) knowledge, — ohjectum quod ; and a thing through which something else is known is the sec- ondary., immediate., proximate., ideal^f vicarious^ or representa- tive ohject of (mediate) knowledge, — ohjectum quo., or yer quod, * The former may likewise be styled ohjectum entitativum, 6. The Ego as the subject of thought and knov/ledge is now commonly styled by philosophers simply the Suhject ; and Suhjective is a familiar expression for what pertains to the mind or thinking principle. In contrast and correlation to these, the terms Object and Objective are, in like manner, now in general use to denote the Non-Ego, its affections and properties, — and in general the Really existent as opposed to the Ideally known. These expressions, more especially Object and Objective, are ambiguous ; for though the Non-Ego may be the more frequent * The term Representation I employ always strictly, as in contrast to Presentation^ and therefore with exclusive reference to individual objects, and not in the vague generality of Representatio or Vorstellung in the Leib- nitzian and subsequent philosophies of Germany, w^here it is used for any cognitive act, considered, not in relation to -svhat knows, but to what is known ; that is, as the genus, including under it Intuitions, Perceptions, Sensations, Conceptions, Notions, Thoughts proper, &c., as species. t I eschew, in general, the employment of the words Idea and Ideal,, — they are so vague and various in meaning. (See Note G.) But they can- not always be avoided, as the conjugates of the indispensable term Ideal- ism. Nor is there, as I use them, any danger from their ambiguity ; for I always manifestly employ them simply for subjective (what is in or of the mind), in contrast to objective (what is out of, or external to, the mind). 490 APPENDIX. and obtrusive object of cognition, still a mode of mind consti- tutes an olject of thought and knowledge, no less than a mode of matter. Without, therefore, disturbing the preceding no- menclature, which is not only ratified, but convenient, I would propose that, when we wish to be precise, or where any am- biguity is to be dreaded, we should employ, — on the one hand, either the terms subject- oh ject^ or subjective object (and this we could again distinguish as absolute or as relative)^ — on the other, either object-object^ or objective object. 7. If the representative object be supposed (according to one theory) a mode of the conscious mind or self, it may be dis- tinguished as Egoistical; if it be supposed (according to another) something numerically different from the conscious a mind or self, it may be distinguished as Non- Egoistical, The former theory supposes two things numerically different ; — 1°, the object represented ; 2°, the representing and cognizant mind: the latter three; — 1°, the object represented; 2°, the object representing ; 3°, the cognizant mind. Compared merely with each other, the former, as simpler, may, by contrast to the latter, be considered, but still inaccurately, as an imme- diate cognition. The latter of these, as limited in its applica- tion to certain faculties, and now in fact wholly exploded, may be thrown out of account. 8. External Perception^ or Perception simply, is the faculty presentqtive or intuitive of the phenomena of the Non-Ego or Matter, -— if there be any intuitive apprehension allowed of the Non-Ego at all. Internal Perception or Self- Consciousness is the faculty presentative or intuitive of the phenomena of the Ego or Mind. 9. Imagination or Phantasy^ in its most extensive meaning, is the faculty representative of the phenomena both of the ex- ternal and internal worlds. 10. -A representation considered as an object is logically, not reaFiy, different from a representation considered as an act. Here object and act are merely the same indivisible mode of mind viewed in two different relations. Considered by refer- ence to a (mediate) object represented, it is a representative object ; considered by reference to the mind representing and contemplating the representation, it is a representative act. A representative object^ being viewed as posterior in the order of nature, but not of time, to the representative ac^, is viewed as a product ; and the representative act being viewed as prior in the order of nature, though not of time, to the representative PRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 491 object, is viewed as a producing process. The same may be said of Image and Imagination. 11. A thing to be known in itself must be known as actually existing ; and it cannot be known as actually existing unless it be known as existing in its When and its Where. I>ut the When and Where of an object are immediately cognizable ])y the subject only if the When be noic (i. e. at the same moment with the cognitive act), and the Where be here (i. e. williin the sphere of the cognitive faculty) ; therefore a presentative or intuitive knowledge is only competent of an object present to the mind, both in time and in sjjace. 12. E converso^ — whatever is known, but not as actually existing noio and here, is known not in itself, as the presentative object of an intuitive, but only as the remote object of a repre- sentative, cognition. 13. A representative object, considered irrespectively of wiiat it represents, and simply as a mode of the conscious subject, is an intuitive or presentative object. For it isMaiown in itself, as a mental mode, actually existing now and here. 14. Consciousness is a knowledge solely of ivhat is noio and here present to the mind. It is therefore only intuitive, and its objects exclusively presentative. Again, Consciousness is a knowledge of all that is now and here present to the mifid : every immediate object of cognition is thus an object of con- sciousness, and every intuitive cognition itself, simply a special form of consciousness. • 15. Consciousness comprehends every cognitive act ; in other words, whatever we are not conscious of, that we do not know. But consciousness is an immediate cognition. Therefore all our mediate cognitions are contained in our immediate. 16. The actual modifications, the present acts and affections, of the Ego are objects of immediate cognition, as themselves objects of consciousness. (Pr. 14.) The past and possible modifications of the Ego are objects of mediate cognition, as represented to consciousness in a present or actual modification. 17. The Primary Qualities of matter or body ^ noio and here. that is, in proximate relation to our organs, are objects of imme- diate cognition to the Natursd Realists ; of mediate, to the Cos- mothetic Idealists : the former, on the testimony of conscious- ness, asserting to mind the capability of intuitively perceiving what is not itself ; the latter denying this capability, but assert- ing to the mind the power of representing, and truly represent- uig, what it does not know. To the Absolute Idealists matter 492 APPENDIX. has no existence as an object of cognition, either immediate or mediate. 18. The Secondary Qualities of body now and liere^ as only present affections of the conscious subject, determined by an unknown external cause, are, on every theory, now allowed to be objects of immediate cognition. (Pr. 16.) 19. As not now present in time^ an immediate knowledge of the past is impossible. The past is only mediately cognizable in and through a present modification relative to, and represent- ative of, it, as having been. To speak of an immediate knowl- edge of the past involves a contradiction in adjecto. For to know the past immediately, it must be known in itself; -^ and to be known in itself, it must be known as now existing. But the past is just a negation of the now-existent ; its very notion, therefore, excludes the possibility of its being immediately known. — So much for Memory, or Recollective Imagination. 20. In like manner, supposing that a knowledge of the future were competent, ihis can only be conceived possible in and through a now present representation ; that is, only as a medi- ate cognition. For, as not yet existent^ the future cannot be known in itself, or as actually existent. As not here present^ an immediate knowledge of an object distant in space is like- wise impossible.* For, as beyond the sphere of our organs and faculties, it cannot be know^n by them in itself; it can only, therefore, if known at all, be known through something differ- ent from itself, that is, mediately, in a reproductive or a con- structive act of imagination. 21. A possible object — an ens rationis — is a mere fabri- cation of the mind itself; it exists only ideally in and through an act of imagination, and has only a logical existence, apart from that act with which it is really identical. (Pr. 10.) It is therefore an intuitive object in itself; but in so far as not involv- ing a contradiction, it is conceived as prefiguring something which may possibly exist somewhere and some-when, — this something, too, being constructed out of elements which had been previously given in Presentation, — it is Kepresentative. See Note C, § 1. * On the assertions of Reid, Stewart, &c., that the mind is immedialelij percipient of distant objects, see Note B, § 2, and Note C, § 2. 3477-4 THE END. Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: August 2004 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-2111