P[~h 1541 
 
 No 
 
 1541 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 DEPARTMENT OF STATE. 
 
 Alcove, 
 Shelf,. _ 
 
 EXCHANOR. 
 
 
 
 '^ 
 
 Library of Congress. 
 
 SHELF ^)JU-L1L.-I^.^ 
 
 OTI 
 
 <^.rr^UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 '^h^ 9-167 ■ r 
 
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 ELEMENTS 
 
 \ 
 
 OF 
 
 MENTAL PHILOSOPHY, 
 
 ABRIDGED AND DESIGNED AS A 
 
 TEXT BOOK 
 
 ACADEMIES AND HIGH SCHOOLS. 
 
 
 BY THOMAS C. UPHAM, 
 
 PROFESSOR OF MENTAL AND MORAL PHILOSOPHY AND INSTRUCTER 
 OF HEBREW IN BOWDOIN COLLEGE. 
 
 s:j)irli HHition. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 rUBLISHED BY WILLIAM HYDE, & CO. 
 
 M DCCC XXXII. 
 
 I 
 

 Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year A.D. 18S2, by 
 Thomas C. Upham, ib the Clerk's office of the DistricOcourl of Maine. 
 
 JPRES5 OF J. GRIFFIN, BRUNSVVICi: 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The present work has been prepared in the hope ofpromo- 
 ting a more general acquaijitance with an important depart- 
 ment of science. As it is designed chiefly for those who are 
 youngs and are in a course of education, it lays claim to no 
 other merit, than what might ordinarily be expected in a 
 text-book, founded on the inquiries of many valuable writers. 
 Guided by their researches, it endeavours to give a con- 
 densed, but impartial view of Mental Philosophy, so far as its 
 principles are understood at the present time ; and the writer 
 has learnt from a number of esteemed instructers of youth,that 
 his design is approved by them. He is by no means insensible 
 to this favourable sentiment ; and if the present work should 
 prove to be the means of awakening an increased interest in 
 mental science, he will feel himself amply rewarded for what- 
 ever trouble it may have occasioned. 
 
 The Philosophy of the Mind has grown up like other scien- 
 ces from small beginnings. Many propositions, coming too in 
 many instances from able writers, have been thrown aside ; 
 truth has been sifted out from the mass of errour, until at last a 
 great number of important principles is ascertained. But 
 while it is exceedingly necessary, that our youth should be 
 made acquainted with these principles, it is impossible, that 
 they should go through with all the complicated discussions, 
 which have been held in respect to them. Many of the 
 books, in which these discussions are contained, have be- 
 come exceedingly rare ; and if they were not so, no small 
 number of students, who are now in the course of as thor- 
 ough an education as our country afibrds, would not be able 
 to purchase them. And besides, by placing before the stu" 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 dent a mass of crude and conflicting statements, his mind be- 
 comes perplexed. To be able to resolve such a mass into 
 its elements, and to separate truth from errour, implies an 
 acquaintance with the laws of the intellect, and a degree of 
 mental discipline,which he is not yet supposed to have acquir- 
 ed ; and hence, instead of obtaining much important knowl- 
 edge, he becomes distrustful of every thing. 
 
 JN'ow these evils, saying nothing of the loss of time atten- 
 dant on such a course, are to be remedied in the same way 
 as in other sciences. In other departments of learning, in- 
 genious men discuss points of difficulty ; conflicting argu- 
 ments are accumulated, until the preponderance on one side 
 is such, that the question in debate is considered settled. 
 Others employ themselves in collecting facts, in classifying 
 them, and in deducing general principles; and when ail this is 
 done, the important truths of the science,- collected from such 
 a variety of sources and suitably arranged and expressed, 
 are laid before the student, in order that he may become ac- 
 quainted with them. Very seldom any one thinks it advisa- 
 ble, that the pupil, in the course of an education limited to a 
 very few years, should be obliged to attempt an acquaint- 
 ance with every scientific tract and book, whether of great- 
 er or less value. It is neither desirable nor possible, that he 
 should be able to consult all the Memoirs of Institutes and of 
 Royal Societies ; and still less to read the multitude of half- 
 formed suggestions,which are either struck out in the momen- 
 tary heat of debate, or are developed from all quarters in the 
 natural progress of the mind. It belongs rather to professional 
 men and to public instructers, to engage in this minute and la- 
 borious examination,and to present those whom they instruct 
 with the results of their inquiries. It may indeed be desirable 
 to give them some knowledge of the history of a science,and 
 to point out such authors as are particularly worthy of being 
 consulted by those, whose inclination and opportunities jus- 
 tify more particular investigations. But this is all, that is 
 either demanded, or can be profitable in the ordinary course 
 of education. And this is what is attempted to be done in 
 the present work. 
 
 It has been my desire and endeavour, as was intimated at 
 the beginning of these remarks,to give a concise,but correct 
 view of the prominent principles in Mental Philosophy, so 
 iar as they seemed at present to be settled. The statement of 
 
PREFACE. " 5 
 
 these principles is attended with a perspicuous summary of 
 the facts and argujpents, on which they are based ; together 
 with occasional remarks on the objections, which have been 
 made from time to time. In selecting facts in confirmation 
 of the principles laid down, I have sought those, which not 
 only had a relation to the point in hand, but which promised 
 a degree of interest for young minds. Simplicity and uni- 
 formity of style has been aimed at, although in a few instan- 
 ces the statements of the writers referred to have been ad- 
 mitted with only slight variations, when it was thought they 
 had been peculiarly happy in them. As my sole object was 
 the good of young men, [ did not feel at liberty to prejudice 
 the general design, by rejecting the facts, arguments, and in 
 some cases even the expressions of others. ^ 
 
 THOMAS C, UPHAM, 
 
 BowDOiN College, Maine. 
 
 THIRD ABRIDGED EDITION. 
 
 Great pains have been taken with this nev^ edition. The 
 more important improvemeii|s, contained in the larger v^^ork 
 in two volumes, have been introduced into this. Teachers 
 will find it, in some respects, essentially altered from any 
 former impression ; and this may occasion a temporary 
 inconvenience, as different editions cannot be used in the 
 same class. But it is hoped they will be willing to overlook 
 this, in consideration of the decided improvements, which 
 they may expect to meet with in various parts of the work. 
 In a treatise embracing such a multiplicity of topics, it 
 it could hardly be expected,that the first attempts would be 
 so successful as to leave nothing for further and more exact 
 inquiry. 
 
 NovEMB, 1832. 
 
COJ^TEIS^TSo 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Chap. 1— utility of mental 
 philosophy. 
 
 SECT. 
 
 Objects of this science and objec- 
 tions against it 1 
 
 Its supposed practical inutility 2 
 
 Its supposed practical inutility an- 
 swered . ^ 
 
 Mental Philosophy tends to grati- 
 fy a reasonable curiosity 4 
 
 Further grounds for this view 5 
 
 Mental Philosophy teaches us 
 where to limit our inquiries 6 
 
 Remarks of Mr. Locke on this 
 point. ' 
 
 Helps us in the correction of men- 
 tal errours 8 
 
 Is a help to those, who have the 
 charge of early education 9 
 
 Has a connection with other de- 
 partments of science '_ 10 
 
 Mental science is a guide in our 
 intercourse with men 1 1 
 
 Illustrates the nature and wisdom 
 of the Creator 12 
 
 Of the mental efforts necessary in ' 
 this study 13 
 
 II. — IMPLIED OR. PRIMARY TRUTHS. 
 
 Importance of certain preliminary 
 statements in mental philosophy 14 
 
 Nature of sucii preliminary state- 
 ments 15 
 
 Of the name or designation given 
 them 16 
 
 Primary truth of personal exist- 
 ence 17 
 
 Occasions of the origin of the idea 
 
 or belief of personal existence 18 
 
 Primary truth of personal iden- 
 tity 19 
 
 Pteasons for regarding this a pri- 
 mary truth 20 
 
 Of the existence of matter 21 
 
 There are original and authorita- 
 tive grounds of belief 22 
 
 Primary truths having relation to 
 the reasoning power 23 
 
 No beginning or change of exisf- 
 ence without a cause 24 
 
 Occasionsof the origin of the pri- 
 mary truth of effects and causes 25 
 
 Matter and mind have uniform 
 and fixed laws 26 
 
 This primary truth not founded 
 on reasoning 27 
 
 Of the distinction between prima- 
 ry and ultimate truths 28 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 LAWS OF THE MIND. 
 
 Chap. I.- 
 
 -IMMATERIALITY OF THE 
 MIND. 
 
 Of certain frivolous inquiries con- 
 cerning the nature of the mind 29 
 
 Origin & application of the terms, 
 material and immaterial SO 
 
 Difference between mind and mat- 
 ter shown from language. SI 
 
 Their different nature evinced by 
 their respective properties ' 32 
 
 The material quality of divisibility 
 not existing in the mind S3 
 
 Opinions of Buffier on the soul's in- 
 divisibility 34 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The soul's immateriality indicated 
 by the feeling of identity 35 
 
 The material docli ine makes man 
 an automaton or machine 36 
 
 No exact correspondence between 
 the mental and the bodily state 37 
 
 Evidence of this want of exact cor- 
 respondence 38 
 
 Comparative state of the mind and 
 body in dreaming 39 
 
 The great works of genius an evi- 
 dence of immateriality 40 
 
 Of the immortality of the soul 41 
 
 Remarks of Addison on the soul's 
 immortality 42 
 
 Chap. II. — Lfws of the mind I^- 
 
 GENERAL. 
 
 Existence of laws even in material 
 
 objects ' ■ 43 
 
 Objection from the apparent disor- 
 ders in nature. , 44 
 Remarks of Montesquieu on laws 45 
 Of laws in relation to the mind. 46 
 Mental laws may be divided into 
 
 two classes 47 
 
 Distinction between the susceptibil- 
 ities and the laws of the mind 48 
 
 Chap. III. — laws that limit the 
 MirfD. 
 
 Evidence of the general fact of the 
 mind's being limited. 49 
 
 Objection to this inquiry from the 
 incompleteness of the mind's his- 
 tory 50 
 
 The mind limited as to its knowledge 
 of the essence or interiour nature 
 of things 51 
 
 Our knowledge of the nature of mind 
 itself limited 52 
 
 Remarks on the extent of this limi- 
 tation 53 
 
 Our knowledge of matter in certain 
 respects limited 54 
 
 Our ignorance of the reciprocal con- 
 nection of mind and matter 55 
 
 Illustrated in the case of voluntary- 
 action 56 
 
 Further illustrations of our igno- 
 rance in respect to this connec- 
 tion 57 
 
 Of space as a boundary of intellec- . 
 tual effort ' 58 
 
 Of the relation of time to our men- 
 
 tal conceptions 59 
 
 Mystery of human freedom as co- 
 existent with the Divine pres- 
 cience 60 
 
 Limits of the mind indicated by the 
 terms, infinity, eternity, &c. 61 
 
 Of restraints resulting from ulti- 
 mate fiicts of the mind 62 
 
 The sentient part, as well as the 
 intellect has limits 63 
 
 Mental limitations implied in 
 man'sinferiority to his Creator 64 
 
 Chap. IY — laws of belief. 
 (I) co^-scIous^•ESS. 
 
 Nature and degrees of belief 65 
 Of ihe objects of belief 66 
 
 Ofthe laws of belief 67 
 
 Consciousnescs a law of belief 68 
 Of what is to be understood by 
 
 Consciousness 69 
 
 Consciousness properly a complex 
 
 state ofthe mind 70 
 
 Ofthe proper objects or subjects of 
 
 consciousness 71 
 
 The objects of consciousness wholly- 
 internal and mental 72 
 The belief from consciousness of th& 
 most decided and highest kind 73- 
 
 Chap. V — laws of belief. 
 (li) the senses. 
 
 General statement as to the confi- 
 dence placed in the senses 74 
 
 The belief arising f>om the senses 
 may be considered in two res- 
 pects 7S 
 
 Objection to reposing confidence in 
 the senses 76 
 
 The senses imperfect rather than 
 fallacious 77 
 
 Some alleged mistakes ofthe sen- 
 ses owing to want of care 78 
 
 Of mistakes in judging of themo- 
 tion of objects 79 
 
 Of mistakes as to the distances and 
 magnitude of objects 80 
 
 The senses liable to be diseased Si 
 
 Our knowledge of the material 
 world from the senses 82 
 
 Correctness of their testimony in 
 this respect ' 83 
 
 The senses as much grounds of be- 
 lief as other parts of our con- 
 stitution 84 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Opinions of Locke on the testimo- 
 ny of the senses 85 
 
 Chap. VI — laws of belief. 
 
 (Ill) TESTIMONY. 
 
 Of testimony and the general fact 
 cf its influencing belief 86 
 
 Of the various explanations of the 
 origin of confidence in testimo- 
 ny _ 87 
 
 Connection of a reliance on testi- 
 mony with a disposition to utter 
 the truth 88 
 
 This reliance greatly confirmed by 
 experience 89 
 
 Objections to our reliance on testi- 
 mony 90 
 
 Further remarks on this objec- 
 tion 91 
 
 Chap. VIl — laws of belief. 
 
 (IV) MEMORY. 
 
 All men place a reliance on mem- 
 ory 92 
 
 Limitations of our reliance on 
 memory 93 
 
 Origin of men's reliance on mem- 
 ory 94 
 
 Memory the occasion of belief far- 
 ther than what is actually re- 
 membered 95 
 
 Chap. VIII — laws of belief. 
 
 (V) RELATIVE SUGGESTION and 
 
 reasoning. 
 
 Meaning of Relative Suggestion 
 
 and its connection with belief 96 
 Classes of relations and intuitive 
 
 perceptions of relation 97 
 
 Of the intuitive perceptions called 
 
 axioms 98 
 
 Of reasoning as a ground of belief 99 
 Evidence that men confide in the 
 
 results of reasoning 100 
 
 Chap. IX — laws of association. 
 (I) primary laws. 
 
 Meaning of association and extent 
 of its applications 101 
 
 Of the term Association and its 
 general laws 102 
 
 Resemblance the first general law 
 of association 103 
 
 Resemblance in every particular 
 
 not necessary 104 
 
 Of resemblance in the effects pro- 
 duced 105 
 
 Contrast the second general or 
 primary law 106 
 
 Contiguity the third general or 
 primary law 107 
 
 Cause and effect the fourth prim- 
 ary law 108 
 
 Chap. X — laws of association. 
 (II) secondary laws. 
 
 Of secondary laws and their con- 
 nection wdth the primary 109 
 
 Of the influence of the lapse of 
 time 110 
 
 Secondary law of rejJbtition or 
 habit 111 
 
 Of the secondary law of co-exis- 
 tentemotion 112 
 
 Original difference in the mental 
 constitution 113 
 
 The foregoing law as applicable to 
 the intellect 114 
 
 Of associations suggested by pres- 
 ent objects of perception 115 
 
 Causes of increased vividness in the 
 foregoing instances 1 1 6 
 
 CpIAP . XI. — LAW 
 
 of kabit. 
 
 General view of the law of habit 
 
 and of its application 1 17 
 
 Illustrations of the law of habit 118 
 
 Application of this law to feelings -- 
 
 or em.otions 119 
 
 Chap. XII — simplicity and com- 
 plexness of mental states. 
 
 Origin of the distinction of mental 
 states as simple and complex 120 
 
 Of the general nature of simple and 
 mental states 121 
 
 Sinjple mental states not suscepti- 
 ble of definition , 122 
 
 Means of obtaining a knowledge of 
 our simple notions 123 
 
 Origin of complex notions and their 
 relation to simple 124 
 
 Of the precise sense in which com- 
 plex ness is to be understood 125 
 
 Illustrations of analysis as applied 
 to the mind 126 
 
 Chap. XUI — general classifica- 
 tion. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The mental states divided into 
 the intellectual and sentient 127 
 
 Evidence in favour of this classifi- 
 cation from what we observe in 
 men generally 128 
 
 This classification frequently re- 
 cognized in writers 129 
 
 Languages referred to in proof of 
 this generic arrangement 130 
 
 The nature of this classification a 
 matter of consciousness 131 
 
 Of the different names given 
 to it 132 
 
 Classification of the intellectual 
 states of the mind 133 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL STATES OF 
 THE MIND. 
 
 CLASS FIRST. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL STATES OF INTE?.- 
 KAL ORIGII\\ 
 
 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GSN.- 
 ERAL. 
 
 Of the mind considered in itself 134 
 
 Connection of the mind with the 
 m.aterial world 135 
 
 Of the origin or beginnings of 
 knowledge 136 
 
 Our first knowledge in general of 
 a m.aterial or external origin 137 
 
 Further proof of the beginnings of 
 knowledge from external cau- 
 ses 138 
 
 The same subject further illustra- 
 ted 139 
 
 Of connatural or innate knowl- 
 edge _ 140 
 
 The doctrine of innate knowledge 
 not susceptible of proof 141 
 
 The discussion of this subject su- 
 perseded and unnecessary 142 
 
 Further remarks on the rise of 
 knowledge by means of the 
 senses 142 
 
 Chap. II — ^sensatioj? and per- 
 ception. 
 
 Sensation a simple mental state 
 
 originating in'the senses 143 
 
 All sensation is prooerly and tru- 
 2 
 
 ly in the mind 144 
 
 Sensations are not i images or re- 
 semblances &c. of objects 145 
 The connection between the 
 mental and physical change 
 not capable of explanation 146 
 Of the meaning of perception 147 
 Of the primary and secondary 
 
 qualities of matter 148 
 
 Of the secondary qualities of 
 
 matter 149 
 
 Of the nature of mental powers 
 or faculties 150 
 
 Chap. Ill — the senses of smell 
 AND taste. 
 
 Nature and importance of the 
 senses as asource of knowledge 151 
 
 Of the connection of the brain with 
 sensation and perception 152 
 
 Order in which the senses are to 
 be considered 153 
 
 Of the sense and sensations of 
 smell 154 
 
 Of perceptions of smell in distinc- 
 tion from sensations 155 
 
 Of the sense and the sensations 
 of taste 156 
 
 Design and uses of the senses of 
 smell and taste 157 
 
 Chap. IV — the sense gp' 
 
 HEARING. 
 
 Organ of the sense of hearing 158- 
 
 Nature of sonorous bodies and the 
 medium of the communication of 
 sound f59 
 
 Varieties of the sensation of 
 sound 1 60 
 
 Manner in which we- learn the 
 place of sounds 161 
 
 Application of these viev\^s to the 
 art of ventriloquism 162 
 
 Uses of hearing and its connec- 
 tion v;ith oral language 163 
 
 Chap. V 
 
 -THE SENSE CF TOUCH. 
 
 Of ibe sense of touch &. the sen- 
 sations in general 164 
 
 The idea of externality or outness 
 suggested by the sense of 
 touch 165 
 
 The idea of externality or outness 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 further considered 166 
 
 Origin of the notions of extension 
 and of the former figure of bod- 
 ies 167 
 
 On the sensations of heat and 
 cold 168 
 
 On the sensations of hardness 
 and softness 169 
 
 Of certain indefinite feeHngs 
 sometimes ascribed to the 
 touch 170 
 
 Relation between the sensation 
 and what is outwardly signifi- 
 ed 171 
 
 Chap. VI^ — the sense of sight. 
 
 Of the organ of sight and the uses 
 or benefits of that sense 172 
 
 Statement of the mode or process 
 in visual perception 173 
 
 Of the original and acquired "per- 
 ceptions of sight 174 
 
 The idea of extension not origin- 
 ally from sight 175 
 
 Of the knowledge of the figure of 
 bodies by the sight 176 
 
 Measurements of magnitude by 
 thee^'e 177 
 
 Of objects seen in the mist and of 
 the sun and moon in the hori- 
 zon 178 
 
 Of the estimation of distance bv 
 sight 179 
 
 Of the estimation of distance when 
 unaided by intermediate ob- 
 jects 180 
 
 Of the senses considered as a foun- 
 dation of belief and knowledge 181 
 
 Illustration of the subject of the 
 preceding section 182 
 
 Chap. VII — haeits of sensation 
 
 AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 Of the law. of habit in general and 
 
 its applications 183 
 
 Ofhabit in relation to the smell 184 
 Of habit in relation to the taste 185 
 Of habit in relation to the hear- 
 ing 186 
 Application ofhabit to the touch 187 
 Habits considered in relation to 
 
 the sight 188 
 
 Sensations may possess a relative, 
 as well as positive increase of 
 power J 89 
 
 Whether the mind can attend to 
 
 more than one object at a time 190 
 On attending at the same time to 
 
 different parts of music 191 
 
 The principle considered in refer- 
 ence to the outlines and forms 
 of objects 192 
 
 Notice of some facts which fa- 
 vour the above doctrine 193 
 
 Chap VIII — mdscular habits. 
 
 Instances in proof of the existence 
 oi' muscular habits 194 
 
 Conside>ed by some writers to be 
 involuntary 195 
 
 Objections to the doctrine of invol- 
 untary muscular habits 196 
 
 Chap. IX — conceptions . 
 
 Meaning of conceptions and how 
 they diflfer from certain other 
 states of the mind 197 
 
 Of conceptions of objects of sight 198 
 
 Of the influence of habit on our 
 conceptions 199 
 
 Of the subserviency of our con- 
 ceptions to description 200 
 
 Of conceptions attended with a 
 momentary belief 201 
 
 Conceptions which are joined with 
 peiceptions 202 
 
 Of our conceptions at tragical 
 representations 203 
 
 Application of these principles to 
 diversities in the mental charac- 
 ter of individuals 204 
 
 Chap. X — casual associations. 
 
 Association sometimes misleads 
 our judgments 205 
 
 Casual association in respect to 
 the place of our sensation 206 
 
 Connection of our ideas of exten- 
 sion and time 207 
 
 Of high and lownotesin music 208 
 
 Connection of the ideas of exten- 
 sion and colour 209 
 
 Whether there be heat in fire 
 &c. 210 
 
 Whether there be meaning in 
 words ? 21 1 
 
 Benefit of examining such connec- 
 tions of thought 212 
 
 Power of the will over mental as- 
 sociations 213 
 
 Associations controlled by an indi- 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 n 
 
 rect voluntary power 
 
 214 
 
 Chap. XI — complex notions of 
 
 EXTERNAL ORIGIN. 
 
 Of simplicity and complexness of 
 mental states in general 215 
 
 Instances of simple ideas from 
 the senses 216 
 
 Of objects contemplated as 
 wholes 217 
 
 Complex notions preceded by 
 simple ones 21 S 
 
 Imperfections of our complex na- 
 tions of external objects 219 
 
 Of what are to be understood by 
 chimerical ideas ' 220 
 
 Of the introduction of such no- 
 tions in early life 221 
 
 Chap. XII — Abstraction. 
 
 Abstraction implied in the analy- 
 sis of our complex notions 222 
 
 Instances of particular abstract 
 ideas ^ 223 
 
 Mental process in separating or 
 abstracting them 224 
 
 Of generalizations of particular 
 abstract ideas 225 
 
 Of the importance and uses of ab- 
 straction 226 
 
 Chap. XIII — general abstract 
 
 IDEAS. 
 
 General abstract notions the same 
 with genera and species 227 
 
 Process in classification or the • 
 forming of genera and species 228 
 
 Early classification sometime in- 
 correct 229 
 
 Illustrations of our first classifica- 
 tions from the Savages of Wa- 
 teeoo 230 
 
 Of the nature of general abstract 
 ideas 231 
 
 Objections sometimes made to the 
 existence of general notions 232 
 
 Of the power of general abstrac- 
 tion in connection with num- 
 bers, &c. 233 
 
 Of general abstract truths or prin- 
 ciples 234 
 
 Of the speculations of philosophers 
 and others 235 
 
 Chap. XIV — of attention. 
 
 Of the general nature of atten- 
 tion 236 
 
 Of different degrees of attention 237 
 
 Dependence of memory on atten- 
 tion 238 
 
 Of exercising attention in , read- 
 ing, &c. 240 
 
 Alleged inability to command the 
 attention 241 
 
 Chap. XV — dreaming. 
 
 Definition of dreams and the pre- 
 valence of them 242 
 
 Connection of dreams with our 
 waking thoughts 243 
 
 Dreams are often caused by our 
 sensations ' 244 
 
 Explanation of the incoherency 
 of dreams. (1st cause.) 245 
 
 Second cause of the incoherency 
 of dreams 246 
 
 Apparent reality of dreams. (1st 
 cause) 247 
 
 Apparent reality of dreams. (2d 
 cause) 248 
 
 Of our estimation of time in 
 dreaming 249 
 
 Of the senses sinking to sleep in 
 succession 250 
 
 General remarks on cases of som- 
 nambulism 251 
 
 Explanation of cases of somnam- 
 bulism 252 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL STATES OF 
 THE MIND. 
 
 CLASS SECOND. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL STATES OF INTER- 
 NAL ORIGIN. 
 
 Chap. I — of internal origin op 
 
 KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 The soul has fountains of know- 
 ledge within 253 
 
 Declaration of Mr. Locke, that 
 the soul has knowledge in it- 
 self 254 
 
 Opinions of Dr. Cud worth on 
 the general subject of inter- 
 nal knowledge 255 
 
n 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Further remarks of the same 
 writer on this subject 256 
 
 Knowledge begins in the senses, 
 but has internal accessions 257 
 
 Instances of notions, which have 
 an internal origin 258 
 
 Chap. II — suggestion. 
 
 Import of the term su52;gestion 
 and its application in Reid and 
 Stewart 259 
 
 Ideas of existence, mind, self- 
 existence, and personal iden- 
 tity 260 
 
 Of the nature of unity and the 
 origin of that notion 261 
 
 Nature of succession, and origin 
 of the idea of succession 262 
 
 Origin of the notion of duration 263 
 
 Of time and its measurements, 
 and of eternity 264 
 
 Marks or characteristics of time 265 
 
 The idea of space not of exter- 
 nal origin 266 
 
 The idea of space has its origin 
 in suggestion 267 
 
 Characteristic marks of the no- 
 tion of space 268 
 
 Of the origin of the idea of pow- 
 er 569 
 
 Notion of an original or first 
 antecedent 270 
 
 Chap. Ill — consciousness. 
 
 Consciousness the second source 
 of internal knowledge; its na- 
 "ture 271 
 
 Objections to Locke's Essay con- 
 cerning Human Understand- 
 ing 272 
 
 Opinions of Mr. Stewart on this 
 subject 273 
 
 Instances of notions originating 
 from consciousness 274 
 
 Chap. IV — relative suggestion. 
 
 ,0f the susceptibility of perceiv- 
 ing or feeling relations 275 
 
 Occasions on which feelings of 
 
 lation may arise 276 
 
 vOfthe use of correlative terms 277 
 
 Of the relations of identity and 
 diversity 278 
 
 -P.f the relations of identity and 
 diversity called axioms 279 
 
 [II.] Relation of fitness or unfit- 
 ness 280 
 
 [III.] Relations of degree, and 
 names expressive of them 281 
 
 Relations of degree sometimes 
 exist in adjectives of the posi- 
 tive form 282 
 
 [IV.]Of relations of proportion 283 
 
 [V.] Of relations of place or po- 
 sitions 284 
 
 [V!.] Of relations of time 285 
 
 [VII.] Of relations of possessictn 286 
 
 [VIII.] Of relation of cause and 
 effect 287 
 
 Instances of complex terms!in- 
 volving the relation of cause 
 and etiect 288 
 
 Connection of relative suggestion 
 or judgment with reasoning 289 
 
 Chap. V — memory. 
 
 Intellectual knowledge not limi- 
 ted in its origin to one source 
 or one power 290 
 
 Explanations in respect to the 
 faculiy of memory 291 
 
 Of the differences in the strength 
 of memory 292 
 
 Of the effects of disease on the 
 memory 293 
 
 Memory of the uneducated 294 
 
 Memory of men of philosophical 
 minds 296 
 
 Of the memory of the aged 297 
 
 Memory of persons ofa rich im- 
 agination 298 
 
 On the compatibility of strong 
 memory and good judgment 299 
 
 Intentional memory or recollec- 
 tion ' SOO 
 
 Instance illustrative of thepre- 
 . ceding 301 
 
 Marks ofa good memory 302 
 
 Directions or rules for the im- 
 provement of the memory S03 
 
 Chap. VI— duration of memory. 
 
 Restoration of thoughts and 
 feelings, supposed to be en- 
 tirely forgotten 304 
 
 Mental action quickened by in- 
 fluence on the body 305 
 
 Other instances of quickened 
 mental actif)n and of a resto- 
 ration of thoughts 306 
 
 Effect on the memory of a se- 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 13 
 
 vere attack of fever ' 307 
 
 Illustrations of these views from 
 
 Coleridge 308 
 
 Application of the principles of 
 
 this chapter to education 309 
 Connection of this doctrine with 
 the final judgment and a fu- 
 ture life 310 
 
 Chap. VII — Reasoning. 
 
 The reasoning power a source 
 of new ideas 311 
 
 Of the object and excellency 
 of reasoning 312 
 
 Definition of reasoning, and of 
 propositions 313 
 
 Process of the mind in all cases 
 of reasoning 314 
 
 Grounds of the select! on of 31 5 
 
 propositions 316 
 
 Of the difference in the powers 
 of reasoning 317 
 
 Of habits of reasoning 317 
 
 Of limitations of the power of 
 reasoning S18 
 
 Of reasoning connected with 
 language or expression ' 319 
 
 Chap. VIII — demonstrative 
 
 PcEASONING. 
 
 Of the subjects of demonstra- 
 tive reasoning 320 
 
 Use of definitions & axioms in 
 demonstrative reasoning 321 
 
 The opposite of demonstrative 
 reasoning absurd 322 
 
 Demonstrative reasonings do 
 not admit of different degrees 
 of belief 323 
 
 or the nature of demonstrative 
 certainty 324 
 
 Of the use of diagrams in dem- 
 onstrations 325 
 
 Of signs in general as connected 
 with reasoning 326 
 
 Of the influence of demonstra- 
 tive reasoning on the men- 
 tal character 327 
 
 Further considerations on the 
 influence of demonstrative 
 reasoning 323 
 
 Chap. IX — moral, reasoning. 
 
 Of the subjects and im^)ortance 
 of moral reasoninof. ' 329 
 
 Of the nature of moral certainty 330 
 Of reasoning from analogy S31 
 
 Caution to be used in reasoning 
 
 from analogy 332 
 
 Of reasoning from induction 333 
 Of combined and accumulated 
 
 arguments 834 
 
 Chap X. — practical directions 
 
 IN REASONING. 
 
 Practical rules in reasoning re- 
 quired by the frequency of 
 its applications 335 
 
 [I] Of being influenced by a de- 
 sire of the truth 336 
 
 [[I] Care to be used, in correct- 
 ly stating the subject of inqui- 
 ry and discussion 337 
 
 [III] Consider the kind of evi- 
 dence applicable to the sub- 
 ject 338 
 
 [IV.] On excluding all unmean- 
 ing propositions 33^ 
 
 [V.] Avoid the introduction of 
 common-place propositions 340 
 
 [VI.] Reject the aid of false ar- 
 guments or sophisms 341 
 
 [VIII] On the sophism of esti- 
 mating actions and character 
 fi'ora the circumstance of suc- 
 cess merely 342 
 
 [IX.] On the use of equivocal 
 terms and phrases 343 
 
 [X.] Of adherence to our opin- 
 ions 344 
 
 Effects of debating for victory 
 instead of truth 345 
 
 Ckap.XI — OF imagination. 
 
 Definition of the power of imag- 
 ination 346 
 
 The creatiolns of imagination 
 not entirely voluntary 347 
 
 Of iajaginations not attended 
 with desire 348 
 
 Of imaginations attended with 
 desire 349 
 
 Further illustrations of the 
 same subject S50 
 
 Remarks from the writings of 
 Dr. Reid 351 
 
 Grounds of the preference of 
 one conception to another 352 
 
 Mental process in the forma- 
 tion of Milton's imaginary 
 paradise " 353 
 
14 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Works of imagination give differ- 
 ent degrees of pleasure 354 
 On the utility of the faculty of 
 
 the imagination 355 
 
 Of the importance of the imag- 
 ination in connection with 
 the reasoning power 356 
 
 Of misconceptions by means of 
 
 the imagination _ 357 
 
 Explanation of the above rais- 
 in representations of the imagin- 
 ation 358 
 
 Chap. XII — origin of prejudices. 
 
 Of the meaning of prejudices 359 
 Of preiudices in favour of our 
 
 youth * 360 
 
 Of prejudices of home and coun- 
 try 
 Professional prejudices 
 Prejudices of sects and parties 
 Prejudices of authority 
 Prejudices of personal friend- 
 ships and dislikes ^ 365 
 Prejudices of custom or fashion 366 
 Correctives of fashionable preju- 
 dices 367 
 Of guarding against prejudices 
 in early education 368 
 
 PART THIRD. 
 
 SENTIENT STATES OF THE 
 MIND. 
 
 361 
 362 
 363 
 964 
 
 CLASS FIRST. 
 
 emotions. 
 
 Chap. I — emotions of beauty. 
 
 Of the sentient states of the 
 mind in general 369 
 
 Of the general division of the 
 
 '' sentient states of the mind in- 
 to emotions, desires, &c. _ 370 
 
 Explanations and characteris- 
 tics of emotions of beauty 371 
 
 Of what is meant by beautiful 
 objects 372 
 
 Results of constantly referring 
 emotions of beauty to the 
 outward cause 373 
 
 Extensive application of the 
 term beauiy 374 
 
 All objects not equally fitted to 
 
 excite emotions of beauty 875 
 
 A susceptibility of emotions of 
 beauty an ultimate principle 
 of our constitution 376 
 
 Remarks on the beauty of 
 forms 377 
 
 Of the original beauty of colour 378 
 
 Of sounds oonsidered as a 
 source 379 
 
 Of emotion as an element of 
 beauty 380 
 
 Of intellectual and moral ob- 
 jects as a source of the beau- 
 tiful 381 
 
 Objects may become beautiful 
 by association merely ^ 382 
 
 Further illustrations of associa- 
 ted feelings 383 
 
 Chap. II — of associated beauty. 
 
 Chap. Ill — emotions of sublim- 
 ity. 
 
 Chap. IV.— emotions of the lu- 
 dicrous. 
 
 Chap. V — moral emotions, con 
 
 SCIENCE. 
 
 CLASS SECOND, 
 
 DESIRES. 
 
 Chap. I — instincts. 
 
 Chap. II — appetjites. 
 
 Chap. Ill — propensities. 
 
 Chap. IV — ths affections or 
 passions. 
 
 CLASS JTHIRD. 
 
 feelings of obligation. 
 
 Chap.I — nature of obligatory 
 
 feelings. 
 
 Chap. II— origin of feelings of 
 
 obligation. 
 
 Chap. Ill — nature or right or 
 virtue. 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY, 
 
 ■# 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 CHAPTER FIRST. 
 
 tJTILITY OF MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 §.1. Objects of this science and objections against it. 
 
 ]?Ian is not a simple, but a combined or complex ex- 
 istence, made up of mind and matter. It belongs to men- 
 tal Philosophy to make inquiries into his mental part, into 
 that characteristic element in his formation, which thinks 
 and combines, which feels and wills, hates and loves. And 
 as mind is higher than matter, a less gross and more ex- 
 cellent existence, it might be supposed, that the study of it 
 would be pursued v»ith the greatest alacrity and delight. 
 
 Nor has this supposition been altogether disappointed ; 
 the study of the intellect and of the passions ha^ never, in 
 any stage of society, been wholly neglected ; and yet some 
 objections have been made to this pursuit, which, although 
 more specious than solid, have lessened the ardour, to 
 which it is entitled. 
 
 §.2. lis supposed practical inutility. 
 
 Among other objections, not sufficiently weighty to ex- 
 act an examination at present, it has someiimes been said, 
 and with some degree of plausibility, tlrat Mental Philoso- 
 
18 UTILITY OF 
 
 phy is practically useless. — In studying this department of 
 science, we are supposed in the erroneous opinion, which 
 has been mentioned, to learn in a scientific form only what 
 we have previously learnt from nature ; we acquire noth- 
 ing new, and the time, therefore, which is occupied in this 
 pursuit, is misspent. 
 
 , All persons, however ignorant, know what it is, to 
 think, to imagine, to feel, to perceive, to exercise belief. 
 All persons know the fact, without being formally taught 
 it, that memory depends on attention. When asked, why 
 they have forgotten things, whieh occurred yesterday or 
 last week in their presence, they think it a sufficient answer 
 to say, that they did not attend to them. All classes of men 
 are practically acquainted with the great principle of asso- 
 ciation. The uneducated groom, who feeds his horses to 
 the sound of the drum and bugle, as a preparatory training 
 for* military service, discovers a knowledge of it not less 
 than the philosopher. The vast multitude, with scarcely 
 a single exception, understand the complexity and strength 
 of the passions ; the power, and the aids, and the practice 
 of reasoning. 
 
 From some facts of this kind, which may safely be ad- 
 mitted to exist to a certain extent, the opinion has arisen 
 of the practical inutility of studying Mental Philosophy as 
 a science. 
 
 §. 3. Its supposed practicalinutility anst^red. 
 
 If, however, such facts as these be admitted to be aval- 
 id objection in application to this study, the same objection 
 evidently exists to the study of other sciences, for instance, 
 Natural Philosophy. It is remarked of savagfes, that they 
 gain an eminence before they throw theii' missile weapons, 
 in order by the aid of such a position to increase theTuo- 
 mentum of what is thrown. They do this without any 
 scientific knowledge of the accelerating force of gravity. 
 The sailor, who has perhaps never seen a mathematical 
 diagram, practically understands, as is evident from the 
 mode in which he handles the ropes of the vessel, the com- 
 position and resolution of forces. In a multitude of in- 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 19 
 
 stances, we act on principles, which are explained and 
 demonstrated in some of the branches of Natural Philoso- 
 phy. We act on them, while we are altogether ignorant 
 of the science. But no one, it is presumed, will consider 
 ' this a good excuse for making no philosophical and syste- 
 matic inquiries into that department of knowledge. 
 
 But without contenting ourselves with the answer, 
 which has now been given to the objection, that the study, 
 upon which we are entering, is of no practical profit, 
 some remarks will be made, more directly and positively 
 showing its beneficial results. 
 
 §.4. Mental Philosophy tends to gratify a reasonable curiosity. 
 
 If it were true, that the practical good results of a pros- 
 ecution of this science are exceedingly inconsiderable, it 
 might, nevertheless, be properly studied, because a natural 
 and reasonable curiosity is in this way gratified. The bot- 
 anist examines the seed of a plant and its mode of germina- 
 tion, the root and the qualities by which it is fitted to act 
 as an organ of nutrition and support, the structure of the 
 stem, and the form of the leaves. The mineralogist in- 
 quires into the properties, the constituent joarts, and the 
 relations of the various mineral masses, which enter into 
 the formation of the earth's surface. And whatever opin- 
 ion may exist as to the amount of practical benefit result- 
 ing from inquiries into these departments of science, they 
 are justly considered as exceedingly commendable, and as 
 suitable to the inquisitive turn of an intellectual being. 
 In other words, the constitution of the mind itself, which 
 in its very nature is restless and inquisitive, is regarded as 
 a pledge of the propriety of such inquiries, independently 
 of their subserviency to the indirect increase of human 
 happiness. ^ 
 
 But it is certainly not too much to say, that the soul 
 of man presents a nobler subject of examination, than the 
 inanimate masses of matter beneath his feet, or the flow- 
 ers, that open and bloom around him. In whatever points 
 we may hereafter compare them, we shall have frequent 
 occasion to observe, that spirit possesses the preeminence 
 
20 . UTILITY OF 
 
 over that, wliicli is immaterial. Matter and mind are ut- 
 terly different in their nature : although in making the 
 remark here, we anticipate the views, by which it is au- 
 thorized. Our experience teaches us, that the former is 
 compounded and separable into parts ; but we know the 
 latter to be simple and inseparable. Being inseparable, it is 
 not subject to the change of dissolution, but continues un- 
 altered in its nature amid the rapid decays of material ex- 
 istence. And what is a further mark of its superior claims 
 on our attention, the -mind is subject to a law of increase ; 
 it is not stationary, but is always advancing, always 
 strengthening its susceptibilities of knowledge, 
 
 §.5. Further grounds for this view. 
 
 The remark last made is worthy of particular consid- 
 eration. — Look at man in tiie beo^inninor of his existence. 
 The thoughts and feelings of the infant mind are few in- 
 deed, but it is able, in the creative expansion of its pow- 
 ers, to multiply them both in their simple and complex 
 forms, to an immeasurable extent. — In various ways does 
 this appear ; in every thing, which admits of the applica- 
 tion of mind ;* in the arts, sciences, and social order. 
 
 Writers say, that man is born in society, and it is true, 
 that he is so. But what is his situation in the introducto- 
 ry period of his life ! If he be an object of love, he is also 
 an object of solicitude and pity ; he is utterl}^ under the 
 direction of another, unable at first to guide hi? own foot- 
 steps. But in a few years, such has been the growth of 
 his intellect, that lie, who but yesterday could not govern 
 himself, tomorrow enacts the constitution and laws of em- 
 pires ; he, who but yesterday knew no social principle 
 but that of simple dependence on his mother, tomorrow 
 comprehends the philosophy of Montesquieu, and has be- 
 come the guide and legislator of the world. 
 
 Nor is this growth of mind, this wonderful expansion 
 of the intellect limited to any one class of objects to the 
 exclusion of others. — Mark the childhood of man in his 
 earliee;t inquiries into nature. At first he is filled with as- 
 tonishment at beholding the clustering beams of light,that 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. fil 
 
 are reflected from a piece of metal. Pleased but not sat- 
 isfied, as tlie mind acquires strength, he traces the direc- 
 tion and the rapidity of its progress from planet^to plan- 
 et, till he finds its source in the sun, whose form, and mag- 
 nitude, and revolution he is able to estimate. At first, too 
 feeble of judgment for the simple operation of combining 
 syllables into words, he shortly reads the Principia of New- 
 toh, and interprets from the evanescent aspects and facts 
 of nature the hidden and immutable laws, by which she is 
 
 governed. Such being the nature of the human mind, 
 
 so vastly capacious in its progress, though weak indeed in 
 its be-dnning, it is, in itself considered, a most rational and 
 worthy object of exanunation. 
 
 §. 6. Mental Philosophy teaches us where to limit our inquiries. 
 
 But there is another view of the mind, necessary to be 
 taken, which is somewhat different from the foregoing, al- 
 though equally true. — That the human mind possesses a 
 natural energy and is rapidly progressive is certain ; but 
 it is not less so, that it has its boundaries. And here we 
 ,find another of the good results of a knowledge of Mental 
 Philosophy, that we are taught by it to limit our inquiries 
 to those subjects, to the investigation of which our capa- 
 cities are equal and are adapted. 
 
 The- Supreme Being is an all pervadicig mind, a princi- 
 ple of life, that has an existence in all places and in all 
 space, and whose intelligence is like his omnipresence, ac- 
 quainted with all things. But man, his creature, is made 
 with an inferiour capacity ; he knows only in part, and it 
 is but reasonable to suppose, that there are many things, 
 which he will never be able to know. But, although it 
 be justly admitted, that man is subordinate to the Supreme 
 Being and is infinitely inferiour to Him, his Maker has 
 kindly given him aspirations after knowledge, with the 
 power of satisfying, in some measure and under certain 
 limitations, such aspirations. If, therefore, man be a being, 
 formed to know, and there be, moreover, certain restric- 
 tions, placed upon the capacity of knowledge, it is highly 
 
22 UTILITY OF 
 
 important to ascertain the limitations, whatever they may 
 be,, which are imposed. Nor is this always an easy thing 
 to be determined. There is oftentimes a difficulty in as- 
 certaininoj precisely tlie boundary, which runs between the 
 possibility and the impossibility of knowledge, but when- 
 ever it is ascertained, there is an indirect increase of men- 
 tal ability by means of the withdrawment of the mind 
 from unprofitable pursuits, in which there is an expense, of 
 effort without any remuneration. 
 
 The necessity of ascertaining what things come within 
 the reach of our powers and what do not, was a thought 
 which laid the foundation of Mr. Locke's Essay on the 
 Human Understanding. 
 
 §. 7 . Remarks of Mr, Locke on this point. 
 
 " Were it fit to trouble thee with the history of this 
 Essay (he remarks in the Epistle to the reader) I should 
 tell thee, that hve or six friends meeting at ;iiy chamber 
 and discoursing on a subject very remote from this, found 
 themselves quickly at a stand by the difficulties, that arose 
 on every side. After we had awhile puzzled ourselves 
 without coming any nearer a resolution of those doubts, 
 which perplexed us, it came into my thoughts, that we 
 took a wrong course, and that before w^e set ourselves up- 
 on inquiries of that nature, it tv^as necessary to examine 
 our own abilities, and see what objects our understandings 
 were or were not fitted to deal with. This I proposed to 
 the company, who all readily assented, and thereupon it 
 was agreed, that this should be our first inquiry." 
 
 Such were the sentiments on this subject of a man, who 
 has probably contributed more largely than any other in- 
 dividual to help us to the correct understanding of the 
 mind; and whose writings, such is their singular origin- 
 ality and acuteness, can hardly be too strongly recom- 
 mended for perusal. 
 
 §. 8. Helps us in the correction of mental errours, 
 
 A third advantage, resulting from the study of the Phi- 
 losophy of the Mind, is, that it teaches us in many cases 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 2S 
 
 to correct whatever deficiencies or errours may exist in 
 our mental constitution. 
 
 In our present state of imperfection, while we are found 
 to experience various kinds of bodily evils, we are not ex- 
 empt from those of the mind ; and we know not, that it 
 can any more excite surprise, that some people exhibit 
 mental distortions, than it can, that we daily see not only 
 the healthy and the well-formed, but the maimed, the 
 halt, and the blind. If then it be asked, how are these 
 various mental defects to be remedied, the answer is obvi- 
 ous, that we should act in regard to the mind as we do in 
 promoting the restoration of the body ; we should commit 
 the business of ascertaining a remedy to those, who are in 
 some good degree acquainted with the subject and with 
 the nature of the disease. A physician, altogether igno- 
 rant of the anatomy and physiology of the human system, 
 would be poorly fitted to restore a fractured limb, or sub- 
 due the ravages of a fever. But if knowledge be necessary, 
 in order to heal the weakness of the body and restore it to 
 its proper soundness and beauty, it is not less important 
 in the restoration of analogous evils in the mental consti- 
 tution. 
 
 In looking round to see, whose minds are disordered, 
 and whose are in a sound and healtJiy condition, we notice, 
 for example, that some persons are troubled with a very 
 weak memory. We have a very candid confession on this 
 point in the writings of Montaigne. He informs us, that 
 he did not trust to his memory. '' I am forced (says he) 
 to call my servants by the names of their employments, or 
 of the countries where they were born, for I can hardly 
 remember their proper names ; and if I should live long, 
 I question whether I should remember my own name." 
 It appears, however, from his acquaintance with the prin- 
 ciples of the ancient philosophers ihai he liad not much 
 reason to complain, except of his own inattention to this 
 valuable m.ental susceptibility. He remembered princi- 
 ples ; he could keep in recollection the outlines of the sci- 
 ences, but could not so well remember insulated facts, 
 especially if they related to the occurrences of common 
 
24 UTILITY OF 
 
 life. This peculiarity in the operations of the memory is 
 not unfrequeiitly found among men of letters, especially if 
 they possess a vivid imagination. But it must be consid- 
 ered a mental defect ; one, which it is not only important 
 to understand, but to try to remedy. 
 
 Montaigne is. a strikincr instance of failure in one of 
 the varieties of memory, and others fail equally in the 
 power of reasoning, that is, in forming judgments or con- 
 clusions by combining together a number of consecutive 
 propositions. x\nd this happens from a variety of causes, 
 as from weakness of attention, or the influence of prejudi- 
 ces, or an ignorance of the nature and sources of evidence, 
 or from other causes, which may be guarded against and 
 controlled. In other cases the mind is thrown into con- 
 fusion in consequence of such exceeding vividness in the 
 conceptions, as to l(^d one to mistake the mere objects of 
 thought for real external objects. And again we have 
 the still more formidable evils of idiocy in its various 
 forms of origin, and of partial and total insanity. 
 
 Since then it must be admitted, that there are diseases 
 and distortions of the mind no less than of the body, and 
 that we, cannot expect a restoration from those evils with- 
 out an intimate acquaintance with the state and tendencies 
 of our intellectual. and, sentient powers, such an acquain- 
 tance becomes exceedingly desirable. 
 
 §.9. Is a help to those, who have the charge of early education. 
 
 This study, in the fourth place, furnishes many very val- 
 uable hints to those, who have the charge of early educa- 
 tion. It is well known that children and youth adopt al- 
 most implicitly the manners and opinions of those, under 
 whom they happen in Providence to be placed, or with 
 whom they much associate, whether they be parents, in- 
 structors, or others. 
 
 Let it, therefore, be remembered, that passions both 
 good and evil may then rise up and gain strength, which 
 it v\ill afterwards be found difficult to subdue. Intellectu- 
 al operations may at that period be guided and invigora- 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 25 
 
 ted, which, if then neglected, can never be called forth 
 to any effective purpose in after life. Associations and 
 habits of various kinds may then be formed, which will 
 defy all subsequent attempts at a removal, and will follow 
 the subjects of them down to the grave. In a word, the 
 soul may be trained, in no small degree, either to truth or 
 falsehood, to virtue or vice, to activity or sluggishness, to 
 glory or infamy. 
 
 When we take these things into view, and w hen we 
 further recollect the frequency of cliaracteristic, if not 
 original differences in intellectual power and inclination, 
 no one certainly can be considered properly qualified for 
 the o-reat undertaking of a teacher of youth, who has not 
 formed a systematic and philosophic acquaintance with 
 the principles of the mind. 
 
 §. 10. Has a connection with other departments of science. 
 
 It is to be considered in the fifth place, that this depart- 
 ment of science has an intimate connection with others, 
 which are of great importance ; and this connection may 
 be regarded as increasing the urgency of attending to it. 
 
 For instance, Mental philosophy has an intimate 
 connection with Moral. In the latter science we bring un- 
 der consideration injuries, benefits, the nature and obliga- 
 tion of contracts, and the various duties of men ; but such 
 inquiries w^ould be exceedingly fruitless without a thor- 
 ough acquaintance with the emotions and passions, and 
 with other modifications^ both siaiple and complex, of the 
 mental principle. 
 
 The philosophy of the mind has also a close connec- 
 tion with the most important applications of Criticism and 
 Taste. It would not be possible to give any rational ac- 
 count of the excellencies or defects of a poem, painting, 
 edifice, or other work of art, without a knowledge of it. 
 For, although \\q often call such works beautiful and sub- 
 lime, it is certain, that they cannot possess the qualities 
 of beauty or sublimity, independently of our mental frame, 
 and we never apply those epithets to them, except it be 
 with reference to certain feelings excited within us. 
 
26 UTILITY OF 
 
 Again, Mental philosophy is closely connected with 
 the science and practice of Oratory. We sometimes hear 
 the science of the mind designated as the philosophy of 
 human nature, andnothing certainly ismore common than 
 the remark, that a knowledge of human nature is essential 
 to the orator. With how much greater directness and 
 strength he applies his powers of reasoning, when he un- 
 derstands the principles, on which the mind operates in 
 every reasoning process ! With how much greater con- 
 fidence he attacks prejudices, and rouses or allays the pas- 
 sions, when he has thoroughly meditated the passions, and 
 the various influences, by which our judgments are bi- 
 assed ! 
 
 It will be found also on examination, that the philoso- 
 phy of mind^hasa real relation, either direct or indirect, to 
 various other departments of knowledge. Indeed, so far 
 as it examines primary propositions, and the grounds and 
 instruments of belief, it may justly be considered as lay- 
 ing the foundation of all sciences and knowledge what- 
 ever. 
 
 §. 11. Mental science is a guide in our intercourse with men. 
 
 And let it be further noticed, in c6nnection with this 
 subject, that our intercourse with men, in the ordinary 
 concerns and enjoyments of life, is truly and properly an 
 intercourse with minds. In order to render tins inter- 
 course agreeable and profitable, it is necessary to be ac- 
 quainted with the laws of the mind. It is undoubtedly 
 the duty of every man, to increase, as far as lays in his 
 power, the sum of human happiness ; but without such 
 acquaintance he will often touch unadvisedly some train 
 of thought, some secret feeling, some casual connection, 
 that will produce deep unhappiness. But if he combine 
 with a benevolent disposition ^a suitable knowledge 
 of our mental nature, his touch, like that of the skil- 
 ful musician, will extract from those, with whom he min- 
 gles in the intercourse of life, the concord of just thoughts 
 and kindly feelings,which is the most pleasing of alf earth- 
 ly harmonies. 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 27 
 
 But there is another point, on which men have been 
 most unjust and cruel to each other, and in respect to 
 which they will find in mental philosophy a clear intima- 
 tion of their errour, and an implied and stern rebuke of 
 their injustice ; we have reference to the hostility of those, 
 -who happen to embrace different opinions. Many unfor- 
 tunate men have been exiled and out-cast from society ; 
 many have been thrown into dungeons ; many Iiave been 
 broken upon the rack ; many have died by the fire and fa- 
 mine and the sword ; merely because they did not believe 
 as those, who possessed the power thus to oppress them. 
 But the philosophy of mind teaches us, that belief has 
 its laws ; that there is no necessary connection between 
 suffering and a change of opinion ; and it whispers in the 
 ears of those, who have the wisdom to understand it, that 
 the only rebukes should be evidence ; the only engines of 
 torture, arguments ; and the only persecution and war- 
 fare, the zealous communication of knowledge. 
 
 §. 12. Illustrates the nature and wisdom of the Creator, 
 
 But we leave these and all other considerations, tend- 
 ing to show the utility of the science of the human mind, 
 with the single reflection further, that it helps to illustrate 
 the nature and wisdom of the Infinite Mind. 
 
 L — It throws light on the nature of the Supreme Being. 
 All those ideas, which we form of God, are only new ap- 
 plications and extensions of certain ideas, which we pre- 
 viously form in respect to ourselves. The soul, approach- 
 ing in its nature nearer to him than any thing else, which 
 is the direct subject of our knowledge, is, in some sort, 
 the medium, by which we mount up, and are able to form 
 true conceptions of the nature of the universal Author. 
 Hence, in studying mind even on the limited theatre of 
 humanity we are indirectly studying the Supreme Being, 
 since God is the original, indispensable, and all-pervading 
 mind, and no analogy even in the slightest degree can be 
 pointed out between his nature, and that of any thing 
 else on earth. Accordingly we find universally in na- 
 tions, where the intellect is degraded, God is degraded 
 
33 UTILITY OF 
 
 also ; where there are no powers of abstraction,every thing 
 assumes a massive and material form ; where there is no 
 thorough contemplation of the divinity within, i;hcre is 
 no true knowledge of the Divinity without. And these 
 degraded men ^re so in love with their grovelling and un- 
 intelligent conceptions, that they will show you the spir- 
 ituality of the Omniscience, reduced to a visible form, and 
 cased up in the broidered work of Egypt, the gold of 
 Tyre, and the feathers of the South Sea Islands. 
 
 II. The knowledge of the human mind is not only the 
 basis of true conceptions of the nature of the Divine Mind, 
 but it affords also the most striking exemplification of some 
 of his attributes, particularly his wisdom. 
 
 We are frequently referred in theological writings to 
 the works of creation, as a proof of the Creator's wisdom; 
 and the remark has been made, not without reason, that 
 the " stars teach as well as shine. ^'' But of all those created 
 things, which come within the reach of our direct exam- 
 ination, the human mind is that principle, which evinces 
 the most wonderful construction, which discloses the most 
 astonishing movements. There is much to excite our ad- 
 miration of the Divine foresight in the harmonious move- 
 ments of the planetary orbs, in the rapidity of light, in the 
 process of vegetation ; but still greater cause for it in the 
 principle of thought, in the inexpressible quickness of its 
 operations, in the harmony of its laws, and in the great- 
 ness of its researches. How striking are the powers of 
 that intellect, which, although it have a local habitation, is 
 able to look out from the place of its immediate residence, 
 to pursue its researches among those remote worlds, which 
 journey in the vault of heaven, and to converse both with 
 the ages past and to come ! 
 
 It ought not to be expected that w^e should be intimate- 
 ly acquainted with a principle possessing such striking 
 powers, without some reverential feelings towards Him, 
 who is the author of it. 
 
 §. 13. Of the mental efforts necessary in this study. 
 
 Jn concluding these remarks on the utility of the Phi- 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 29 
 
 losophy of the Mind, it ought not to be concealed, that our 
 early intellectual habits present an obstacle to the easy and 
 ready prosecution of it. We are so formed, that we nat- 
 urally give our attention first to external things. The va- 
 rieties of color and sound, the pleasures of taste and touch 
 are continually giving us new intimations, and drawing 
 the soul incessantly out of itself to the contemplation of 
 the exteriour causes of the perceptions and emotions, by 
 which it is agitated. Hence, when we are called to look 
 within, and as the Arabians sometimes say. Ho sliut the win- 
 doicSj in order that the house may be light,'' we find it to be a 
 process, to which we are unaccustomed, and, therefore, 
 difficult. 
 
 Although the direct,mental efi'orts be not greater in this, 
 than in some other departments of science, it is, in conse- 
 quence of the circumstance just mentioned, exceedingly 
 painful to some, and certainly requires patience and reso- 
 lution in all. And perhaps this is one cause of the unfa- 
 vorable reception, which this department of knowledge 
 has often met with. 
 
 But the advantages attending it are so numerous, it is 
 to be hoped, they will overcome any disinclination to the 
 necessary mental exertion. The fruits of the earth are 
 purchased by the sweat of the brow, and it has never been 
 ordered that the reverse of this shall take place in the 
 matters of knowledge, and that the fruits of science shall 
 be reaped by the hands of idleness. No man has ever be- 
 come learned without toil ; and let it be remembered, if 
 there be many obstacles in the acquisition of any particu- 
 lar science, that he. who overcomes a multiplication of 
 difficulties, deserves greater honour than he, who contends 
 onlv with a few. 
 
CHAPTER SECOND. 
 
 IMPLIED OR PRIMARY TRUTHS. 
 
 §. 14. Importance of certain preliminary statements in mental 
 philosophy. 
 
 It is often highly important, in the investigation of a 
 department of science, to state, at the commencement of 
 such investigation, what things are to be considered as pre- 
 liminary and taken for granted, and what are not. If this 
 precaution had always been observed, which, where there 
 is any room for mistake or misapprehension, seems so rea- 
 sonable, many useless disputes would have been avoided, 
 and the paths to knowledge would have been rendered 
 more direct and easy, instead of being prolonged and per- 
 plexed. 
 
 It is impossible to proceed with inquiries in the sci- 
 ence of MENTAL PHiLOsoPHF, as it will be found to be in 
 almost every other, without a proper understanding of 
 those fundamental principles, which are necessarily invol- 
 ved in what follows. And it will, accordingly, be the ob- 
 ject of this chapter to endeavour to ascertain them ; keep- 
 ing in mind always, that much circumspection is requisite, 
 lest there should be any unnecessary assumptions. The 
 elementary truths, which we have reference to, are few in 
 number, and nothing at least shall be assumed, merely to 
 avoid the trouble of investigation. 
 
 §.15. JSature of such preliminary statements. 
 
 Those preliminary principles, which may be found 
 necessary to be admitted as the antecedents and condi- 
 
PRIMARY TRUTHS. 31 
 
 tions of all subsequent inquiries, will be called, for the sake 
 of distinction and convenience, primary truths. — But 
 what are these ? Or how do we know them ? 
 
 According to the view of this subject, taken by Buf- 
 jfier, Avho has expressly written upon it, and is approved 
 in what he says by Stewart and other metaphysical wri- 
 ters, they are such, and such only, as can neither be proved, 
 nor refuted by other propositions of greater perspicuity. 
 And this is not only a succinct, but a satisfactory account 
 of them, since, if.there were other propositions, into which 
 they could be resolved, and by means of which they could 
 be made clearer, then they could no longer be regarded as 
 primary, but those other clearer propositions would have 
 that character. 
 
 But it may be asked again, are there any propositions 
 of this kind ? Are there any so clear, that the great 
 instrument of human reasoning cannot render them more 
 perspicuous ? Can there not be a complete action of the 
 human mind in all its parts without the laying down of 
 any antecedent truths whatever, as auxiliaries in its efforts 
 after knowledge? — The answer to such questions, howev- 
 er formidable they may at iirst appear, is not far off; it is 
 furnished by the nature of reasoning, and by every day's 
 experience. Every man, who investigates at all, often 
 experiences doubts in his inquiries. He accordingly en- 
 deavours to render the propositions, which are of this 
 character, clearer by argument. He goes on from step to 
 step, from one proposition to another ; but, unless he at 
 last finds some truth utterly too clear to be rendered more 
 so by reasoning, he must evidently proceed, adding de- 
 duction to deduction without end. Reasoning is in fact a 
 succession of relations ; but there can be no feeling of re- 
 lations, where there is but one object of contemplation; 
 something, therefore, must, from the nature of the case 
 be assumed. 
 
 §. 16. Of the name or designation given them. 
 
 The mode of expression, which is employed to indi- 
 cate the propositions, which are under consideration, is not 
 
S^ IMPLIED OR 
 
 Kovel ; but is made use of by a number of judicious wri- 
 ters. They are called primary truths ; and without 
 doubt the phraseology is good. Such propositions are 
 termed, in the first place, truths, since they are forced 
 upon us, as it were, by our very constitution. They 
 exist as surely as the mind exists, where they have their 
 birth-place ; they as certainly and as strongly control the 
 convictions of men, as the demonstrations of geometry ; 
 and not of one man merely, or any particular set of men, 
 but of all mankind ; for the few, who pretend to reject 
 them in speculation, constantly retract and deny such re~ 
 jection of them in their practice. And yet they are not 
 the result of calculation ; they are not the deductions of 
 reasoning ; but rather the natural and unfailing concomi- 
 tants of humanity. 
 
 With sufficient reason also, are the propositions in 
 question called primary ; because, as would seem to fol- 
 low from the very definition of them, they are the propo- 
 sitions, into which all reasoning ultimately resolves itself, 
 and are necessarily involved and implied in the various 
 investigations, of which the mind is capable, whether they 
 relate to the great subject before us, or to others. As has 
 been remarked, there cannot possibly be a process of rea- 
 soning, without some first priciple or admitted truth, 
 from which to start. 
 
 §.17. Primary triiih of personal existence. 
 
 The PRIMARY TRUTH, which we are naturally led to 
 consider first, is that of the reality and certainty of our 
 personal existence. The proposition, that we exist, is a sort 
 of corner stone to every thing else ; the foundation of our 
 knowledge ; the place and the basis, from which the edi- 
 fice must rise. This fundamental truth we admit. 
 
 The celebrated Des Cartes, as if he could by a mere vo- 
 lition suspend the unalterable dictates of nature, formed 
 the singular resolution, not to believe his own existence, 
 until he could prove it. Tie seemed to forget that there 
 arc grounds of belief, antecedent to reasoning, and equally 
 
PRIMARY TRUTHS. S3 
 
 authoritative. — He accordingly reasoned thus ; cogito, ergo 
 swrij I think, therefore, I exist. 
 
 Buffiermaiies the remark in respect to such sceptical 
 persons, that, if they doubt of every thing, it must still 
 remain true, that they exist, as they cannot even doubt 
 without existing. At any rate Des Cartes wis as near the 
 truth, when he laid down the premises, as when he drew 
 the conclusion. His argument, however conclusive he 
 might deem it, evidently involves a petitio principii or 
 begging of the question. The Latin word cogito, which 
 is not only a verb but includes the pronoun of the first 
 person, and undeniably embraces both subject and predi- 
 cate, is equivalent, to make the least of it, to the proposi- 
 tion, lama thinking being; and ergo sum may be literal- 
 ly interpreted, therefore, I am in being. His premises had 
 already implied, that he existed as a thinking being, and it 
 is these very premises, which he employs in proof of his 
 existence. The acuteness, which has been generally, and 
 without doubt justly attributed to Des Cartes, evidently 
 failed him in this instance. His argument was unsuccess- 
 ful, and no one, who has attempted to prove the same 
 point, has succeeded any better. 
 
 This being the case, it is necessary to take ground al- 
 together different from that, which has been chosen by Des 
 Cartes and his followers, and not to risk the defence of a 
 principle so important, where it clearly can never be sus- 
 tained. We regard, therefore, the proposition, that we 
 EXIST, a primary truth ; in other words, it is a proposition, 
 antecedent to reasoning, but which, notwithstanding, fully 
 and perfectly secures our belief. Nothing, which comes 
 within the reach of the human mind, is more clearly de- 
 fined to its. perception, more thoroughly controlling and 
 operative, and more raised above cavils and scepticism, 
 whether rational or irrational, than this. 
 
 §. 18. Occasions of the origin of the idea or belief of 
 personal existence. 
 
 k It remains,' however, a distinct subject of inquiry. Un- 
 der what circumstances this elementary belief arises ? — 
 
S4 IMPLIED OR 
 
 And in answer to this inquiry we may say with abundant 
 confidence, if it be not the earliest, it is at least among the 
 earliest notions, which the mind is capable of forming. A 
 kind Providence has not conceded to a feeling, so essen- 
 tial to our whole mental history, a dilatory, and late ap- 
 pearance. But that same providence has given a place as 
 well as a time, an occasion as well as a period of its for- 
 mation ; and although it may be impossible for us ever to 
 ascertain that occasion with certainty, we may at least 
 conjecture. 
 
 We look, therefore, in our meditations on this topic, 
 at man in his first existence. We see him called forth 
 from a state, where th'ere was neither form nor knowledge, 
 neither light nor motion, neither mind nor matter ; en- 
 dowed with such capabilities of thought and action, both 
 internal and external, as his Creator saw fit to give. Thus 
 brought into being, and thus fitted up for his destined 
 sphere, we will suppose, that some external object is for 
 the first time presented to the senses. The result of this 
 is, that, there is an impression made on the senses; and 
 then at once there is a change in the mind, a new thought, 
 a new feeling. Although, as already suggested, there is 
 room for different conjectures here, there is much reason 
 to believe, that this is the true occasion of the origin of 
 the belief in question.* The first internal expepieuce, the 
 earliest thought or feeling is immediately followed by the 
 notion of personal or self existence, as the subject of this 
 new thought or feeling. And this idea or conviction, of 
 
 * The view, which is here given, is the same that is proposed by 
 Reid and Stevirart, whose opinions on any point of mental philosophy 
 are entitled to great weight. The latter writer informs us, in the In- 
 troduction to his Philosophy of the Human mind, thai every man is 
 impressed with an irresistible conviction, that all his sensations, 
 thoughts, and feeUngs belong to one and the same being, which he calls 
 himself. And again in Chapter first of the same Work, he gives us 
 to understand, that a person, having a particular sensation for the first 
 time, acquires the knowledge of two facts at once ; that of the exis- 
 tence of the sensatign, and that of his own existence as a sentiftit 
 being. 
 
PRIMARY TRUTHS. 85 
 
 personal existence, which arises at this very early period, 
 is continually suggested and confirmed in the course of the 
 successive duties, and enjoyments, and sufferings of life. 
 
 Such has commonly been supposed to be the origin of 
 the belief in question. We may as well suppose it to come 
 into being in connection with the first act of the mind, as 
 with any subsequent act ; although with less distinctness 
 and strength, than afterwards. But whether this account 
 of the origin of the notion of our personal existence be the 
 true one or not, we may still hold to the fact of the belief 
 itself, as something beyond doubt. We may also regard 
 it as necessarily resulting from our mental constllution, and 
 as wholly inseparable from our being. 
 
 Malebranche in his Search after Truth speaks much in 
 commendation of what he has termed the spirit of doubt- 
 ing. But then he bestows this commendation with such 
 limitations as will prevent those evils, which result from 
 too freely giving up to a sceptical spirit. 
 
 " To doubt (says he) with judgment and reason, is not 
 so smaH a thing as people imagine, for here it may be said, 
 that there's a great difference between doubting and doubt- 
 ing. We doubt through passion and brutality, through 
 blindness and malice, and, lastly, through fancy, and only 
 because we would doubt. But we doubt also with pru- 
 dence and caution, with wisdom and penetration of mind. 
 Academics and atheists doubt upon the first grounds, true 
 philosophers on the second. The first is a doubt of dark- 
 ness, which does not.conduct us into the light, but always 
 removes us from it." (B. I. ch. 20;) 
 
 We may remark in conformity \yith this distinction of 
 Malebranche, that the doubting of those over-scrupulous 
 inquirers, who demand a formal proof of their own exis- 
 tence, is of that kind, to which he so justly objects. Scep- 
 ticism on that subject is truly a doubt of darkness, which 
 does not conduct us into the light, but always removes us 
 from it. 
 
 <§ . 1 9 . Primary truth of personal identity . 
 
 The second of those preliminary truths, which we 
 
S6 IMPLIED OR 
 
 • 
 term primary, is the proposition of.our Personal Identity, 
 
 —If the consideration of our personal existence naturally 
 come first in the order of time, that of the truth now be- 
 fore us is not secondary in point of importance. We can- 
 not dispense with either, without unsettling the grounds 
 of inquiry and belief, and barring the access to all knowl- 
 edge whatever. 
 
 Identity is Synonymous with sameness, and is the 
 name of a simple state of mind. 'Although, therefore, its 
 meaning is as clear as that of other simple ideas, and eve- 
 ry body is supposed to understand it, it is not sus- 
 ceptible of definition. The term is applied to various ob- 
 jects, and among others to men. The word personal 
 implies Self, and personal identity is, therefore, the iden- 
 tity of ourselves. But the term self is complex, embracing 
 both mind and matter, and hence we are led to consider 
 the distinct notions of mental and bodily identity. 
 
 I. Mental identity ; — By this phrase we express the 
 continuance and (Tneness of the thinking principle merely. 
 The soul of man is truly an unit. It is not like inatter 
 separable into parts ; no one being ever conscious of a 
 want of oneness in thought and feeling. It may bring, 
 from time to time, new susceptibilities into action ; but 
 its essence is unchangeable. That, which constitutes it a 
 thinking and sentient principle, in distinction from that, 
 which is unthinking and insentient, never deserts it, nev- 
 er ceases to exist, never becomes other than what it orig- 
 inally was. • 
 
 II. Bodily identity ; — By these expressions we mean 
 the sameness of the bo^iily shape and organization. This 
 is the only meaning we can attach to them, since the ma- 
 terials, whicli compose our bodily systems, are constantly 
 changing. The body is not an unit in the same sense the 
 soul is. It was a saying of Seneca, that no maij bathes 
 twice in the same river ; and still we call it the same, 
 although the water within its banks is constantly passing 
 avyay. And in like manner we ascribe identity to the hu- 
 man body, although it is subject to constant changes, meati- 
 
PRIMARY .TRUTHS. 37 
 
 ing by the expressions, as just remarked, merely the same- 
 ness of shape and organization. 
 
 III. Personal identity ; — This form of expression is 
 more general than either of those, which have been men- 
 tioned. It has reference to both mind and matter, as we 
 find them combined together in that complex existence, 
 which we term man or person. It is equivalent to what 
 is conveyed by the two phrases of mental identity, and 
 bodily identity. But it is evident we cannot easily sepa- 
 rate the two, when speaking of men. And accordingly, 
 when it is said, that any one is conscious of, knows, or 
 has a certainty of his personal identity, it is meant to be 
 asserted, that he is conscious of having formerly possessed 
 the powers of an organized, animated, and rational being, 
 and that he still possesses those powers. He knows, that 
 he is a human being now, and that he was a human being 
 yesterday, or last week, or last year. — There is no mys- 
 tery in this. It is so plain, no one is likely to misunder- 
 stand it, although we admit our inability to give a defini- 
 tion of identity. 
 
 §.20. Reasons for regarding this a primary truth. 
 
 If personal identity be a primary truth^ it is antecedent 
 to argument, and is independent of it. — What grounds are 
 there, then, for regarding it as such ? 
 
 In the FIRST place, the mere fact, that it is constantly 
 implied in those conclusions, which we form in respect to 
 the future from the past, and universally in our daily 
 actions, is of itself a decisive reason for reckoning it a- 
 mong the original and essential intimations of the human 
 intellect. Oh any other hypothesis we are quite unable 
 to account for that practical recognition of it in the pur- 
 suits of men, which is at once so early, so evident, and so 
 universal . 
 
 The farmer, for instance, who looks abroad on his 
 cultivated fields, knows that he is the same person, who 
 twenty years before entered the forest with an axe on his 
 shoulder, and felled the first tree. The aged soldier, who 
 recounts at his fireside the battles of his youth, never once 
 
38 IMPLIED OR 
 
 doubts tliat he ^ats himself the witness of those sanguin- 
 ary scenes, which he delights to relate. It is altogether 
 useless to attempt either to disprove or to confirna to 
 them a proposition which they believe and know, not from 
 the testimony of others or from reasoning, but from the 
 interiour and authoritative suggestion of their very nature; 
 and which, it is sufficiently evident, can never be eradi- 
 cated from their belief and knowledge, until that nature 
 is changed. 
 
 A SECOND circumstance in favour of regardinop the 
 notion of personal identity, as an admitted or primary 
 truth, is, that men cannot prove it by argument if they 
 would ; and if they do not take it for granted, must for- 
 ever be without it. Tiie propriety of this remark will 
 
 appear 'on examination. There evidently can be no 
 
 argument, properly so called, unless there be a succession 
 of distinct propositions. From such a succession of prop- 
 ositions, no conclusion can be drawn by any one, unless 
 he be willing to trust to the evidence of memory. But 
 memory involves a notion of the time past, and whoever 
 admits, that he has the power of memory, in however 
 small a degree, virtually admits, that he has existed the 
 same at some former period, as at present. 
 
 The considerations, which we have now particularly 
 in view, and which are greatly worthy of attention in con- 
 nection with the principle under examination, may with a 
 little variation of terms be stated thus. 
 
 Remembrance, without the admission of our personal 
 identity, is clearly an impossibility. But there can be no 
 process of reasoning without men)ory. This is evident, 
 because arguments are made up of propositions, which are 
 successive to each other, not only in order,' but in point of 
 time. It follows, then, tlyit there can be no argument 
 whatever, or on any subject, without the admission of -our 
 identity, as a point from which to start. What then will" it 
 avail to attempt to reason either for or against the views, 
 which are here maintained, since in every argument which 
 is employed, there is necessarily an admission of the very 
 . thing, which is the subject of inquiry. 
 
PRIMARY TRUTHS. 39 
 
 §.21. Of the existence of matter. 
 
 In assuming the truth of self existence and of personal 
 identity, it will be observed, that there has necessarily 
 been an admission of the existence both of mind and mat- 
 ter. As both are employed in the formation or constitu- 
 tion of man in his present state^ it is not easy to admit the 
 existence of one, and deny that of the other. We natur- 
 ally and necessarily think of ourselves not as mind only, 
 but as material. 
 
 And accordingly, in whatever follows, the true and ac- 
 tual existence of botli is nowhere doubted. But this ad- 
 mission, it should be added, does r)ot preclude inquiries 
 hereafter into the grounds of our belief in both cases. 
 The evidence of consciousness and of the senses in partic- 
 ular will afford occasion for such inquiries. 
 
 Evidently some elementary principles must be granted ; 
 otherwise we can never advance. But when we have once 
 started, and have made progress, we n^iay then return ; 
 examine, under new points of view, the successive steps, 
 which have been taken ; and inspect and try the sound- 
 ness o*f those primary propositions at the foundation of the 
 whole. 
 
 §. 22. There are original and authoritative grounds of belief 
 
 Supposing men actually to exist, and to be conscious 
 of the continuance and sameness of their existence, we 
 are next to enter into the interiour of their constitution, 
 and to inquire after such elements of intelligence, and ac- 
 tion, as are to be found there. The next proposition, 
 therefore, which is to be laid down as fundamental and 
 as preliminary to all reasoning, is, that there are in men 
 
 CERTAIN ORIGINAL AND AUTHORITATIVE GROUNDS OF BE- 
 LIEF. 
 
 Nothing is better known, than that there is a certain 
 •' state of the mind, which is expressed by the term, belief. 
 As we find all men acting in reference to it, it is not neces- 
 sary to enter into any verbal explanation. Nor would 
 it be possible by such explanation to increase the clearness 
 
40 IMPLIED OR 
 
 of that notion, which every one is already supposed to 
 
 entertain. -Of this belief, we take it for granted, and 
 
 hold it to be in the strictest sense true, that there are orig- 
 inal and authoritative grounds or sources ; meaning by 
 the term original^ that these grounds or sources arer invol- 
 ved in the nature of the mind itself, and meaning by 
 the term, authoritative, that this belief is not a mere mat- 
 ter of chance or choice, but naturally and necessarily 
 results from our mental constitution, and is binding 
 upon us. 
 
 Sometimes we can trace the state of the mind, which 
 we term belief, to an affection of the senses, sometimes to 
 consciousness, sometimes to that quick, internal perception, 
 which is termed intuition, and at others to human testi- 
 mony. In all th'ese cases, however, the explanation, which 
 we attempt to give, is limited to a statement of the circum- 
 stances, in which the belief arises. But the fact, that be- 
 lief arises under these circumstances, is ultimate, is a pri^ 
 mary law ; and Ipeing such, it no more admits of explan- 
 ation, than does the mere feeling itself. And further, 
 
 this belief may exist as really, and may control us as 
 strongly, when we are unable to give a particulafr and 
 an accurate account of the circumstances, in which it may 
 arise, as at other times. We find ourselves continually 
 compelled to act upon it, when the only possible an- 
 swer we can give, is that we are human beings, or that 
 we believe, because we find it impossible to do otherwise. 
 
 Many v/riters have clearly seen, and defended the ne- 
 cessity of the assumption, which has now been made. 
 Mr. Stewart among others has expressed the opinion, 
 (Hist. Disser. Pt. I. §. II,) that there is involved in ev- 
 ery appeal to the intellectual powers in proof of their own 
 credibility, the sophism of reasoning in a circle or peti- 
 Tio PRiNciPU ; and expressly adds, that, unless this credi- 
 bility be assumed as unquestionable, the further exercise of 
 human reason is altogether nugatory. 
 
 §.23. Primary truths having relation, to the reasoning power, 
 
 Man may be sure of the fact of his existence and of its 
 
PRIMARY TRUTHS. * 41 
 
 permanency ; he may be possessed of grounds of belief to 
 a certain extent, such .as have been mentioned ; and still 
 we may suppose him incapable of reasoning. His knowl- 
 edge would be greatly limited, it is true, without that no^ 
 ble faculty, but he would know something ; his concious- 
 ness 'would teach him his own existence; his senses 
 convey to him intimations of external origin ; the testi- 
 mony of others furnish various facts, that had come with- 
 in their observation. But happily man is not limited to 
 the scanty knowledge, which would come in by these 
 sources alone ^ he can compare as well as experience ; and 
 can deduce conclusions. 
 
 But there is this worthy of notice, that the reasoning , 
 power, although it exists in man, and is a source of belief 
 and a foundation of knowledge, is necessarily built up- 
 on principles, which are either known or assumed. — 
 This is seen in the most common and ordinary cases of 
 the exercise of this susceptibility. And it will be found 
 also on' examination, that one assumption may be resolved 
 into another, and again into another, until we arrive at 
 certain ultimate truths, which are at the foundation of all 
 reasoning whatever. It is important, therefore, to inquire, 
 what general assumptions, having particular reference to 
 the reasoning power and absolutely essential to its action, 
 are to be made. — And these will be found to be two in 
 number ; one having special relation to the past, and the 
 other to the future. 
 
 §. 24. JVb beginning or change of existence without a cause. 
 
 The one, which has a relation to the past, and is the 
 foundation of all reasonings, having a reference to any pe- 
 riod antecedent to the present moment, may be stated as 
 follows ; that there is no beginning or change of existence 
 without a cause. — ^This principle, like others which have 
 been mentioned, we may well suppose to be universally ad- 
 mitted. When any new event takes place, men at once in- 
 quire the cause ; as if it could not poseibly have ha|>pen- 
 ed without some effective antecedent. 
 
 And such being the general and unwavering reception 
 
42 • IMPLIED OR 
 
 of the principle before us, it would seem to follow clearly, 
 that there are grounds for it in the human constitution. 
 A re-liance on any principle whatever, so firm and general 
 as is here exhibited, is not likely to be accidental. And 
 when We inquire what these grounds are, we shall not fail 
 to come to the conclusion, that the proposition in question 
 is supported by an original intimation or feeling, which 
 is utterly inseparable from our mental nature, and which 
 is made knovvn to us by consciousness alone. 
 
 But some will ask, Is it certain, that we cannot arrive 
 at this truth by a process of reasoning ? — And in rieference 
 to this inquil'y, we see no ground for dissenting from the 
 following remarks of Dr. Reid, which will appear the 
 better founded, the more they are examined. Speaking 
 on this subject, he says, " I am afraid, we shall find the 
 proof by direct reasoning extremely difficult, if not alto- 
 gether impossible. I know of only three or four argu- 
 ments, that have been urged by philosophers, in the way 
 of abstract reasoning, to prove, that things, which begin to 
 exist, must have a cause. One is offered by Mr. Hobbes, 
 another by Dr. Samuel Clarke, another by Mr. Locke. 
 Mr. Hume in his Treatise of Human Nature has examin- 
 ed them all ; and, in my opinion, has showji, that they 
 take for granted the thing to be proved ; a kind of false 
 reasoning, which men are very apt to fall into, when they 
 attempt to prove what is self-evident."^ 
 
 The feeling or belief, therefore, which is implied in the 
 proposition, that there is no beginning or change of exis- 
 tence without a cause, is an original one, directly resulting 
 from our nature. Still it is in our power to give some 
 account of the circumstances, in which it arises. 
 
 §. 25. Occasions of the origin of the primary truth of ef- 
 Jects and causes. 
 
 The mind embraces the elementary truth, which we 
 are 'considering, at a very early period. Looking round 
 upon nature, which we are led to do more or less from the 
 commeticement of our being,»we find every thing in mo- 
 
 *Reicl's Intellectual Powers, Essay VI. 
 
PRIMARY TRUTHS. 4S 
 
 tion. Non-existence is converted into life; and new forms 
 are imparted to what existed before- The human mind, 
 which is essentially active and curious, constantly con- 
 templates the various phenomena, which come under its 
 notice ; observing not 'only the events and appearances 
 themselves, but their order in point of time, their suc- 
 cession. And it is led in this way to form the belief, (not 
 by deduction but from its o\^i active nature,) that every 
 new existence and every change of existence are preceded by 
 something, without which they could not have happened. 
 
 Undoubtedly the notion, as in many other cases, is 
 comparatively weak at first, but it rapidly acquires unal- 
 terable growth and strength ; so much so that the mind 
 applies it without hesitation to every act, to every event, 
 and to every finite being. And thus a foundation is laid 
 for numberless conclusions, having a relation to whatever 
 has happened in time past. It is true, that the verbal 
 proposition, by which our belief in this case is expr-essed, 
 is not always, nor even generally brought forward and 
 stated in our reasonings on the- past, but it is always im- 
 plied. 
 
 This primary truth is an exceedingly important one. 
 By its aid the human mind retains a control over the ages 
 that are gone, and subordinates them to its own purposes. 
 It is susceptible in particular of a moral and religious appli- 
 cation. Let this great principle be given us, and we are 
 able to track the succession Of sequences upward, advan- 
 cing from one' step to another, until we find all things 
 meeting together in one self-^xietent and unchangeable 
 head and fountain of being. But there it stops. The 
 principle will not apply to God, since He differs from eve- 
 ry thing else, which is the object of thought, in being an 
 existence equally without change and without beginning. 
 
 §. 26. Matter and mind have uniform and fixed laws. 
 
 It is ftecessary to assume also particularly in connection 
 with the reasoning power, that matter and mind have uni~ 
 form and permanent laws. 
 
 This assumption, as well as the preceding, is accordant 
 
44. IMPLIED OR 
 
 with the common belief of mankind. All men believe, 
 that the setting sun will ariseagain at the appointed hour ; 
 that the decaying plants of autumn will revive in spring, 
 that the tides of ocean will continue to heave as in times 
 past, and the streams and rivers to flow in their courses. 
 If they doubted, they would not live and act, as they are 
 now seen to do . 
 
 This belief in the uniformity §ind permanency of the 
 laws of nature does not arise at 'once ; but has its birth at 
 first in some particular instance ; then in others, till it be- 
 comes of universal application. In the first, instance the 
 feeling in question, which y^e express in various ways by 
 •the terms, anticipation, faith, expectation, belief, and the 
 like, is weak and vacillating ; but it gradually acquires 
 sti'ength and distinctness. And yet this feeling, so imporr 
 tant in its appliciations, is the pure work of nature ; it is 
 not taught men, but is produced within them; the necessa- 
 ry and infallible product and growth of our mental being ; 
 a sort of unalienable gift of the Almighty to every man, 
 woman, and child : arising in the soul with as much cer- 
 tainty and as little mystery as the notions, expressed by 
 the words, power, wisdom, truth, ordev, or other elemen- 
 tary states of the mind. It is true, it is an expectation 
 or belief, directed to a particualr object, and, therefore, is 
 not easily susceptible of being expressed by a single term, 
 as in the case of the ideas just referred to ; but the circum- 
 stance of its being expressed by a circumlocution does not 
 render the feeling itself less distinct or real than others. — 
 As, therefore, the strong faith, which men entertain, in 
 the continuance of the laws of creation, is .the natural and 
 decisive offspring of that mental constitution, which God 
 has given us, there is good ground for assuming the truth 
 of that, to which this faith relates, and%to regard it as a 
 principle in future inquiries, that matter and mind are gov- 
 erned by uniform laws. 
 
 It may be further added, that it is not necessary to call 
 the belief, which is at the foundation of this assumption, 
 either an intuitive perception or an instinct, as some have 
 jclone, but merely a thought, an idea, a state of the mind ; 
 
PRIMARY TRUTHS. 45 
 
 since the oiUy difference between this, and expectation or 
 belief in other cases, results from the nature of the object, 
 towards which it is directed, and the occasionsj on which 
 it arises ; and does not concern the nature of the feeling it- 
 self. 
 
 §. 27. This primary truth not founded on reasoning. 
 
 ' But perhaps it is again objected, that we can arrive at 
 the great truth under consideration without assuming it as 
 something ultimate, as something resulting from our consti- 
 tution ; and that nothing more is wanting in order to arrive 
 at it, than a train of reasoning. — The sun, it is said, rose 
 to-day, therefore he will rise to-morrow : Food nourished 
 me to day, therefore it will do the same to-morrow ; 
 The fire burnt me once, therefore it will again. 
 
 But it demands no uncommon sagacity to perceive, 
 that something is here wanting, and that a link in the 
 chain of thought must be supplied, in order to make it 
 cohere. The mere naked fact, that the sun rose to-day, 
 without any thing else being connected with it affords not 
 the least ground for the inference, that it will rise again ; 
 and the same may be said of all similar instances. Now 
 the link, which is wanting in order to bind together the 
 beginning and the end in such arguments as have been re- 
 ferred to, is the precise assumption, which has been made, 
 and which is held to be as reasonable as it is necessary, 
 because if is founded on an acknowledged, universal, and 
 elementary feeling of our nature. And we may here af- 
 firm wdth perfect confidence, that, without making this 
 assumption, the power of reasoning cannot deduce a sin- 
 gle general inference, cannot arrive at so much as one gen- 
 eral conclusion either in matter or mind. 
 
 But the moment we make the assumption, a vast foun- 
 dation of knowledge is laid. Grant us this, (to which we 
 are fully entitled by virtue of that elementary belief, which 
 the Author of our being has uniformly called forth in the 
 human mind in his appointed way,) that nature is uniform 
 in her laws ; then give us the fact, that food nourished us 
 to-day, or that the sun rose to-day, or any other fact of 
 
46 IMPLIED OR 
 
 the kind, and it follows with readiness and cei'tainty, that 
 
 what has once been will be again. The principle pf the 
 
 permanency and uniformity of the laws of nature is some- 
 thing antecedent to reasoning and not subsequent to it ; 
 something beyond reasoning and not dependent on it ; 
 one of its substantial and magnificent columns. 
 
 Remark. The above mentioned primary truth and 
 that of the preceding section are in fact the same. They 
 are different only in being the two great ai>d equal sections 
 of a principle, which has no limits but those of the uni- 
 verse and eternity. In other words, one of them has ex- 
 clusive relation to the past ; the other to the future ; the 
 former to that which has been, and the latter to that which 
 will be. And hence as the human mind cannot readily 
 contemplate them under one point of view, they are for 
 that reason considered separately. 
 
 §. 28. Of the distinction heticeen primary and ultimate truths. 
 
 Such propositions or truths, as are here called prima- 
 ry, are sometimes spoken- of as ultimate ; nor is this last 
 epithet improperly applied to them. But there seems, 
 nevertheless, good reason for proposing the following dis- 
 tinction, viz. Primary truths may be always regarded as 
 ultimate, but not all ultimate truths are primary. Prima- 
 ry truths are such as are necessarily implied in the mere 
 fact of the existence of the mind and of its operations, par- 
 ticularly those of reasoning ; and being not only the ne- 
 cessary, but among the earliest products of the under- 
 standing, may also properly be called ultimate. But we 
 also apply the epithet, ultimate, to those general truths, 
 facts, or laws in our intellectual economy, which are as- 
 certained by the examination and comparison of many 
 particulars, and which are supposed to be unsusceptible of 
 any further generalization. 
 
 For instance, when the rays of light reach the retina of 
 the eye, and inscribe upon it the picture of some external 
 object, there immediately follows that state of the mind, 
 which we call sight or visual perception. ' Wh^n the men- 
 tal exercises of whatever kind are frequently repeated, we 
 
PRIMARY TRUTHS. 47 
 
 find the general result, that they acquire facility or strength. 
 — Again, when we behold certain appearances in the ex- 
 ternal world, such as green ftelds, "enriched with rivulets, 
 and ornamented with flowers and trees, there immediate- 
 ly exists within us that pleasurable feeling, which is term- 
 ed an emotion of beauty. Supposing ourselves to have 
 
 come in such cases as these, as Mr. Locke says, "to the 
 length of our tether," and to be incapable of making any 
 further analysis, we call such truths, facts, or laws, ultimate. 
 For the existence of these ultimate truths or laws we can 
 give no other reason than this, that we are so formed-, and 
 that they are permanent and original characteristics of the 
 mind. All the inquiries, which we are hereafter to make, 
 will continually imply the ejcistence of such ultimate or 
 original laws, and it will be one great object to ascertain 
 
 what are truly such. But as the actual knowledge of 
 
 these general facts is not an absolute prerequisite to the 
 conduct of life, and in particular as it is not necessarily^ 
 antecedent to the exercise of the reasoning faculty, we 
 cannot call them primary in the same sense, in which that 
 term has been applied to certain iaqts in our constitution 
 already mentioned. 
 
mm'^A^ wm^^L'^^^wm"^, 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 IMMATERIALITY 
 
 AND 
 
 GENERAL LAWS OF THE MIND. 
 
CHAPTER FIRST. 
 
 IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 
 
 §.29. Of certain frivolous inquiries concerning the nature of 
 
 mind. 
 
 Having briefly disposed of those topics, which may 
 properly be deemed auxiliary and introductory to the main 
 inquiry, we are now ready to enter more directly and de- 
 cisively into the consideration of our mental being. All 
 men may well be supposed desirous of learning, as far forth 
 as possible, the true and exact nature and state of the 
 soul ; and without question it is altogether proper to at- 
 tempt to satisfy this desire. But it becomes necessary, in 
 entering into this somewhat difficult subject, to intimate at 
 the outset the importance of guarding against an undue 
 tendency to speculation, and of excluding such topics as 
 evidently do not admit of any satisfactory results. It was 
 the fault of the Schoolmen to indulge in such unfathoma- 
 ble discussions ; and the unfavorable decision, which sub- 
 sequent ages have pronounced on their laborious efforts, 
 should remain a warning to others. It is perhaps neces- 
 sary to mention some of the speculations, which are here 
 I'eferred to, in order that each one may judge for himself 
 of the probable utility of entering into them . Ahiong oth- 
 er things they are understood to have attempted, with 
 much ostentation and with no small effort of inquiry, to 
 ascertain the mode of the soul's existence ; the distinction 
 between its existence and its essence ; whether its essence 
 
62 IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 
 
 might subsist, when it had no actual existence ; and what 
 are the qualities of the soul, considered as a non-entity. 
 
 It requires no deep reflection to conjecture the folly of 
 these inquiries, and of others of not much greater reason- 
 ableness and importance ; and if it were otherwise, the 
 point must now be considered as sufficiently settled by the 
 literary history of the Grecian sects, and particularly of 
 the Scholastic ages. There are, however, other points, 
 connected with the nature of the soul, which we might be 
 culpable in declining to consider ; and in particular that of 
 its immateriality. This is a subject, which for various 
 reasons cannot wisely be dispensed with. We ought not 
 to exalt our nature, at the expense of the truth ; but noth- 
 ing less than the truth at least should ever induce us to as- 
 sign to it a low and degrading estimate. If it be true, as 
 Addison with his usual felicity has remarked, that one of 
 the best springs of generous and worthy actions is the hav- 
 ing generous and worthy thoughts of ourselves, then sure- 
 ly, whether the soul be formed of matter or not, is a great 
 inquiry. 
 
 §.30. Origin and application cfthe terms, material and im- 
 material. 
 
 If we cannot assert directly and positively what the 
 mind is,we may at least approximate to a more intimate ac- 
 quaintance with it, by attempting to evince, and illustrate 
 its immateriality. But this term itself, and its opposite 
 are first to be inquired into. 
 
 The words material and immaterial are relative ; 
 being founded on the observation of the presence, or of 
 the absence of certain qualities. 
 
 Why do we call a piece of wood or of iron material ? 
 It is because we notice in them certain qualities, such as 
 extension, divisibility, impenetrability, and colour. And 
 in whatever other bodies we observe the presence of these 
 qualities, we there apply the term. The term immate- 
 rial, therefore, by the established use of the language and 
 its own nature, it being in its etymology the opposite of 
 
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 53 
 
 the other, can be applied only in those cases, where these 
 qualities are not found. 
 
 Hence we assert the mind to be immaterial, because in 
 all oar knowledii^e of it we have noticed an ntter absence 
 of those qualities, which are acknowledged to be the 
 ground of the application of the opposite epithet. The 
 soul undoubtedly has its qualities or properties ; but not 
 those, which have been spoken of. Whatever we have 
 been conscious of and have observed within us, our thought, 
 our feeling, remembrance, and passion are evidently and 
 utterly diverse from what is understood to be included 
 under the term materiality. 
 
 Such is the origin of these two terms, and the ground 
 of the distinction between them. And thus explained, 
 they can hardly fail to be understood. We may, therefore, 
 now proceed to state the evidence of the actual existence 
 of that distinction between mind and matter, which is ob- 
 viously implied in every application of them. In other 
 words, we are to attempt to show, that the soul is not 
 matter, and that thought and feeling are not the result 
 of material organization. 
 
 §. 31. Difference between mind and matter shown jrom 
 language. 
 
 Is it a fact, that the being or existence, called the soul, 
 is distinct and different from that existence, which we call 
 MATTER?— We have already remarked on the propriety of 
 sometimes referring to the structure of languages, in order 
 to illustrate our mental nature ; and in respect to the ques- 
 tion now before us, we are warranted in saying, that Lan- 
 guage in general is one proof of such a disfinction. In the 
 last section, we saw the use of certain terms in our own 
 language, and the grounds of it. All other languages, as 
 as well as our own, have names and epithets, distinctly ex- 
 pressive of the two existences in question. This circum- 
 stance, when we consider, that the dialects of men are on- 
 ly their thoughts and feelings embodied as it were, may 
 |)e regarded as a decisive proof, that the great body of 
 
54 IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 
 
 mankind believe in both, and of course believe in a well 
 founded distinction between them. 
 
 That such is the belief of men generally, as clearly evin- 
 ced by the structure of languages and in various other 
 ways, will not probably be denied. It is a matter too ev- 
 ident to permit us to anticipate a denial. When there- 
 fore, we take into view that there are grounds of belief 
 fixed deeply and originally in our constitution, and that, 
 . in their general operation, they must be expected to lead 
 to truth, and not to error, we are unable to harbour the 
 opposition, that men are deceived and led astray in this 
 opinion ; that they so generally and almost universally 
 believe in the existence of what in point of fact does not 
 exist. 
 
 §. 22 Their different nature evinced by their respective 
 properties. 
 
 Again, the distinction between mind and matter is shown 
 by the difference in the qualities and properties, which 
 men agree in ascribing to them respectively. — The prop- 
 erties of matter are extension, hardness, figure, solidity, 
 and the like. The properties of mind are thought, feel- 
 ing, volition, reasoning, the passions. The phenomena, 
 exhibited by matter and mind, are not only different in 
 their own naure, but are addressed to different parts of 
 our constitution. We obtain a knowledge of material 
 properties, so far as it is direct and immediate, by means 
 of the senses ; but all our direct knowledge of the nature 
 of the mental phenomena is acquired by consciousness. 
 
 Every one knows that the phenomena in question are 
 not identical. *rhere is no sameness or similitude, for in- 
 stancy, in what we express by the terms hardness and de- 
 sire, solidity and hatred, imagination and extension. Hold- 
 ing it to be unphilosophical to ascribe attributes so different 
 to the same subject, we conclude the subjects of them are 
 not the same. And accordingly we call the subjects of 
 one class of phenomena Mind, and that of the other Mat- 
 ter. — But there is one of the properties of matter, which, 
 
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 55 
 
 considered as applicable to mind, is worthy of a more 
 particular examination. 
 
 §. 33. The material quality of divisibility not existing in 
 the mind. 
 
 That^ there is an essential and permanent distinction 
 between mind and matter, seems to follow in particular 
 from an examination of that particular quality, expressed 
 by the word, divisibility. All matter is divisible. How- 
 ever small we may imagine any particle to be, we must 
 still suppose it to have a top and bottom, a right and left 
 side ; and therefore, to admit of being divided into dif- 
 ferent parts. All extension, which is acknowledged to be 
 one of the primary qualities of matter, implies divisibil- 
 ity- 
 
 Now if divisibility and extension be not ascribed to 
 the mind, all, that is contended for, is virtually conceded. 
 But if, on the other hand, either or both of these qualities, 
 far they reciprocally involve each other, belong to the 
 mind, then the following difficulty arises. — If the mind it- 
 self be susceptible of division, as all matter is, then still 
 more its thoughts and feelings may be thus divided. But 
 this is contrary to all our consciousness ; and conscious- 
 ness is the only means or instrument, which we can di- 
 rectly employ in obtaining a knowledge of the mind. No 
 man is ever conscious of a half, or a quarter, or a third 
 of a hope, joy, sorrow, remembrance, or volition. In 
 deed if the soul were separable into parts, one part might 
 be filled with joy, and another with sorrow at the same 
 time ; one part might be occupied with a mathematical 
 demonstration, and another in framing a poem or a ro- 
 mance. 
 
 We may possess, at different times, different mental 
 states both in kind and degree ; but, however our feel- 
 ings, when occuring at successive and different periods, 
 may differ from each other in these respects, our conscious- 
 ness never fails to ascribe to them individually an unity or 
 oneness. And the unity, which we ascribe to the attri- 
 butes or acts of the mind, still more we ascribe to the mind 
 
56 IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 
 
 itself. It is the whole soul, and not a moiety or fraction 
 of it, which is the subject of its various feelings. 
 
 §. 34 . Opinions of Buffer on the souVs indivisibility. 
 
 The sentiments of Bufiier on this topic are so well ex- 
 pressed, and come from a writer of so much wisdomj that- 
 they seem to be suitably inserted in this place. — " I can- 
 not, he says, without a degree of folly imagine, that my 
 being or what I call me can be divided ; for, were it pos- 
 sible that this me could be divided in two, it would then 
 be me and not me at the same time : it would be so, as it is 
 supposed ; and would not be so, since each of the two par- 
 ties must then become independent of the other : one 
 might think, and the other not ; that is to say, I might 
 think and not think at the same time ; which destroys ev- 
 ery idea of me and of myself. 
 
 '* Besides, this we, and all other beings similar to this 
 me, in whom unity is necessarily conceived, and where 
 J cannot suppose any division without destroying their 
 very essence, and every idea I can entertain of them, is 
 what I call an immaterial or spiritual being ; so that, by 
 destroying its unity, you destroy its entire essence, and ev- 
 ery idea of its existence. Divide a thought, a soul, or a 
 mind in two, and you have no longer either thought, soul, 
 mind ? This indivisibility* is, moreover, evident to me 
 by the interior sense of what I am ; and, by the efficacy 
 of the same sentiment, I likewise learn that what I call me 
 is not properly what I call my body, as this body may be 
 divided both from me, and in itself ; whereas, with regard 
 to me, I cannot be divided from myself." 
 
 §. 35. The souVs immateriality indicated by the feeling of 
 identity. 
 
 There is another somewhat striking consideration, 
 which may aid in evincing the immateriality of the soul. 
 It is well known that the materials, of which the human 
 body is composed, is constantly changing. The whole 
 bodily system repeatedly undergoes in the course of the 
 ordinary term of man's life, a complete renovation, and 
 
immatp:riality of the mind. 57 
 
 yet we ])ossess, during the whole of this period and amid 
 these utter changes of the bodily part, a conciousness of 
 the permanency, as well as of the unity of the mind. 
 " This fact, remarks Mr. Stewart, is 'surely not a little 
 favourable to the supposition of mind being a principle 
 essentially distinct from matter, and capable of existing 
 when its connection with the body is dissolved. 
 
 Truly if the soul, like the body, were made up of par- 
 ticles of matter, and the particlcps w^ere in this case as in 
 the other, always changing, we should be continually rov- 
 ing, as an old writer expresses it, and sliding away from 
 ourselves, and should soon forget what we once were. 
 The new soul, that entered into the same place, would not 
 necessarily enter into the possession of the feelings, con- 
 sciousness, and knowledge of that, which had gone. And 
 hence we rightly infer, from an identity in these respects? 
 the identity or continued existence of the subject, to which 
 such feelings, consciousness, and knowledge belong. And 
 as there is not alike identity or continued existence of the 
 material part, we may infer again, that the soul is distinct 
 from matter. 
 
 §. S6. The material doctrine makes man an automaton or 
 machine. 
 
 The doctrine, that thought is the result of material 
 organization, and that the soul is not distinct from the body, 
 is liable also to this no small objection, that it makes the 
 soul truly and literally a machine. If what we term mind 
 be in truth matter, it is of course under the same influ- 
 ences. But matter, iu all its movements and combinations, 
 is known to be subject to a strict and inflexible direction, 
 the origin of which is exteriour to itself. The material 
 universe is truly an automaton, experiencing through all 
 time the same series of. motions, in obedience to &ome 
 high and authoritative intelligence ; and is so entirely sub- 
 ject to iixed laws, that we can express in mathematical 
 formulas not only the state of large bodies, but of a drop 
 of water or of a ray of light ; estimating minutely ex- 
 tension and quantity, force, velocity, and resistance. 
 
^3 IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 
 
 It is not thus with the human mind. That the mind 
 has its laws h true ; but it knows what those laws are ; 
 whereas matter does not. This makes a great difference. 
 Matter yields a blind and unconscious obedience ; but the 
 mind is able to exercise a foresight ; to place itself in new 
 situations ; to subjeet itself to new influences, and thus 
 control in a measure its own laws. In a word, mind is free; 
 we have the best evidence of it, that of our consciousness. 
 Matter is a slave ; we learn that from all our observation 
 of it. It does not turn to the right or left ; it does not 
 do this or that as it chooses ; but the subject of an over- 
 powering allotment, it is borne onward to the appointed 
 mark by an inflexible destiny. — If these views be correct, 
 we see here a new reason for not confounding and identi- 
 fying these two existences. 
 
 §. 37. JVb exact correspondence between the mental and the 
 bodily state. 
 
 The train of thought in the last section naturally leads 
 us to remark further, that there is an absence of that pre- 
 cise correspondence between the mental and bodily state, 
 which would evidently follow from the admission of ma- 
 terialism. Those, who make thought and feeling the re- 
 sult of material organization, commonly locate that or- 
 ganization in the brain. It is there the great mental ex- 
 ercises, in the phraseology of materialists, are secreted, or 
 are developed, or are brought out in some other myste- 
 rious way, by means of purely physical combination and 
 action. Hence, such is the fixed and unalterable nature of 
 matter and its results, if the brain be destroyed, the soul 
 must be destroyed also ; if the brain be injured, the soul is 
 proportionally injured; if the material action be disturbed, 
 there must be an exactly corresponding disturbance of the 
 mental action. The state of the mind, on a fair interpreta- 
 tion of this doctrine, is not less dependent on that of the 
 body, than the complicated motions of the planetary sys- 
 tem are on the law of gravitation. But this view, wheth- 
 er we assign the residence of the soul to the brain or to 
 any other part of the bodily system, does not appear to be 
 
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 59 
 
 accordant with fact. It is not only far from being appro- 
 ved and borne out, but it is directly contradicted by well 
 attested experience in a multitude of cases. 
 
 38. §. Evidence of this want of exact correspondence. 
 
 We are desirous not to be misapprehended here. We 
 readily grant, that the mind, in our present state of exis- 
 tence, has a connection with the physical system, and par- 
 ticularly with the brain. It is, moreover, obviously a 
 natural consequence of this, that when the body is injur- 
 ed, the mental power and action are in some degree affect- 
 ed ; and this we find to be agreeable to the facts, that 
 come within our observation. But it is to be particular- 
 ly noticed, that the results are just such as might be ex- 
 pected from a mere connection of being ; and are evident- 
 ly not such as might be anticipated from an identity of 
 being. 
 
 In the latter case the material part could never be af- 
 fected, whether for good or evil, without a result precise- 
 ly corresponding in the mind. But in point of fact this 
 is not the case. The body is not unfrequently injured, 
 when the mind is not so ; and on the other hand the soul 
 sometimes apjpears to be almost entirely prostrated, when 
 the body is in a sound and active state. How many per- 
 sons have been mutilated in battle in every possible 
 way, short of an utter destruction of animal life, and yet 
 have discovered at such times a more than common great- 
 ness of mental power! How often, when the body is not 
 only partially weakened, but is resolving at the hour of 
 death into its original elements, and possesses not a single 
 capability entire,, the mind, remaining in undiminished 
 strength, puts forth the energy and beauty of past days ! 
 
 We are now speaking of injuries to our corporeal 
 part and of bodily debility in general, but if we look to 
 to the brain in particular, that supposed strong tower and 
 fortress of the materialists, we shall find ourselves fuily 
 warranted in an extension of these views there. Accord- 
 ing to their system the soul, (that is, what the matei^ial- 
 ists call the soul or what they substitute for it,) possesses 
 
60 IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 
 
 not merely a bodily habitation, but a fixed and local habita- 
 tion in some selected part of the body and they are under- 
 stood to be agreed upon the brain, as the particular place 
 of its residence. But the objection to their views, which 
 in its general form has already been made, exists here in 
 full strength. If that organization, which they hold to re- 
 sult in thought and fueling, have its abode in the brain, it 
 must be diffused through the whole of that organ, or lim- 
 ited to some particular part. But it appears from an ex- 
 tensive collection of well authenticated facts, that every 
 part of the brain has been injured, and almost every part 
 absolutely removed, but without permanently affecting the 
 intellectual and sentient powers. ' 'Every part of that struc- 
 ture, says Dr. Ferriar in a learned Memoir, the statements 
 of which have not, as far as we know, been controverted, 
 has been deeply injured or totally destroyed, without im- 
 peding or changing any part of the process of thought." 
 He remarks again, after bringing forward a multitude of 
 undoubted facts as follows ; " On reviewing the whole of 
 this evidence, I am disposed to conclude, that as no part 
 of the brain appears essentially necessary to the existence 
 of the intellectual faculties, and as the whole of its visible 
 structure has been materially changed, without affecting 
 the exercise of those faculties, something more than the 
 discernible organization must be requisite to produce the 
 phenomena of thinking.' 
 
 §.39. Comparative state of the mind and body in dreaming. 
 
 The views of the two preceding sections receive some 
 confirmation from the comparative state of the mind and 
 body in dreaming. — In sound sleep the senses sink into a 
 state of utter and unconscious sluggishness ; the inlet to 
 every thing external, as far as we can judge, is shut up ; the 
 the muscles become powerless, and every thing in the body 
 has the appearance of death. It is true, the soul appears 
 
 * See the Argument against the doctrine of Materialism, address- 
 ed to Thomas Cooper, Esq. by Dr. John Ferriar, and published in 
 the 4th volume of Memoirs of the Manchester Philosophical Society. 
 
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 61 
 
 for tlie most part to be fallen to a like state of imbecility ; 
 but this is not the case in its dreams, which are known to 
 take up no small portion of the hours of sleep. At such 
 times it does not appear to stand in need of the same re- 
 pose with the body ; otherwise it would seek, and pos- 
 sess it. Nor is its action to be considered an inefficient 
 and sluggish one ; which might afford ground for the con- 
 jecture, that the half awakened body had partially liber- 
 ated and revived the fettered and extinguished mind. On 
 the contrary, when the powers of the body are utterly 
 suspended, the soul is often exceedingly on the alert ; it 
 rapidly passes from subject to subject, attended sometimes 
 with sad, and sometimes with raised and joyful affec- 
 tions. 
 
 But this is not all ; often in the hours of sleep the in- 
 tellect exhibits an increased invention, a quickened and 
 more exalted energy in all its pow^ers. Many writers have 
 remarked, that the conclusions of abstruse investigations 
 have been suggested to them at such times. Not a few 
 would conclude themselves persons of genius, if they could 
 pronounce the arguments and the harangues in the awak- 
 ened soberness of the morning, which they had framed in 
 the visions of the night. So frequent and well known is 
 this quickened mental action, that a certain writer has 
 ventured to assert, with as much truth at least as is com- 
 monly found in antitheses, that the ligation of sense is the 
 liberty of reason.* 
 
 §. 40. The great works of genius an evidence of immateriality. 
 
 But there is one more train of reflection, ,whiGh may 
 help to throw light on this subject. It is not enough, if 
 
 * This view of the soul has been taken by various writers. Ad- 
 dison, who entertained ennobhng- sentiments of pur nature, has 
 dwelt upon it at some length. He often touches on other topics, 
 connected with the exercises of the soul ; but he does it with such 
 exceeding ease and grace ; we enter so readily into the train of his 
 reflections ; that we are apt to allow him less originality and depth, 
 
 than he merits. See Numbers of the Spectator Hi, 487, 554, 
 
 593, &c. 
 
62 IMMATERIALITY O'F THE MIND. 
 
 we would fully understand its nature, to contemplate the 
 soul merely in seasons of bodily prostration and sickness, 
 in suffering, and in the hour of death. However capable 
 the mind may be of discovering the greatness of its pow- 
 ers under these pressures and disadvantages, it would be 
 too much to expect at such times a continued effort and 
 elevation. And yet it is only a continuance of elevated 
 effort, which can secure the highest results. When the 
 senses are unclosed, when the powers of the physical 
 system are unchained throughout, and are healthy and 
 active, the human mind may be expected with fuller con- 
 fidence to erect those vast creations, which we cannot but 
 regard as an evidence of its purely spiritual nature. Re- 
 sults so ennobling are not congenial with what we know 
 of matter. It is almost as revoltinop to our feelinors as 
 our understanding ; to refer those works, which have 
 stood the test of ages, to no higher origin, than what Mr. 
 Hume calls a little agitation of the brain, and others would 
 call, with but little difference of meaning, a secretion or 
 developement either of the brain, or of organization in 
 some other material part. 
 
 Among the numerous efforts, which are now referred 
 to, it is difficult to make a selection. Many of them will 
 occur of themselves. Standing forth, amid the succes- 
 sions of time, a monumental mark, they have as yet never 
 
 failed to attract the gaze and wonder of men. What 
 
 framed the demonstrations of Euclid.'^ The mind. Where 
 was the authorship of the political institutions of Solon and 
 Lycurgus, and of that still greater effort of political wis- 
 dom the American Constitution.'' In the mind. Was it 
 the body or the soul of Homer, the intellect or the brain 
 of the blind old bard, that infused the breath of immortal- 
 ity into the Iliad and Odyssey ? What gave birth to the 
 vast and perfect combinations of The Jerusalem Delivered, 
 the Fairy Queen, and the Paradise Lost ? Where shall we 
 look for the origin of the Philippics of the Ancients, or in 
 later times of the speeches of Fox, and of the orations of 
 Bossuet? 
 
 In thes3 cases, and in all others, where human genius 
 
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND. 63 
 
 has triumphed in like manner, there is one short answer ; 
 man has an intelligent soul ; man possesses an active and 
 creative mind ; in the words of Holy Writ, there is in 
 man a spirit, and the inspiration of the Almighty hath giv- 
 en understanding. Such we suppose to be the answer 
 
 of mankind, of common sense, and of human' nature, as 
 well as of the Bible. It is an answer, which matter would 
 never give, and which is itself a proof of the spirituality 
 and nobleness it asserts. Giving ourselves up to the influ- 
 ence of the vast conceptions, embodied in the works and 
 institutions of human genius, we find it as difficult to at- 
 tribute them to a purely material cause as, it is to adopt 
 the theory of the atheist, and ascribe the beautiful and 
 complicated machinery of the universe to a fortuitous con- 
 currence of atoms. 
 
 §. 41 . Of the immortality of the soul. 
 
 With the subject of the immaterial nature of the soul, 
 that of its immortality is closely connected. We are, 
 therefore, naturally led to present a few suggestions on 
 this last topic, although it will not be necessary to enter in- 
 to it with much minuteness. — We suppose the soul to be 
 immortal, or in other w^ords to have its existence continu- 
 ed beyond the present life,because it is immaterial . Those, 
 who hold that thought and feeling are in some way the 
 direct result of material organization, admit, that the soul, 
 or rather what they speak of as the soul, dies with the 
 body; and certainly they would be inconsistent with them- 
 selves, if they did not do so. Their theory by their own 
 admission imperiously requires, that man's noble and ca- 
 pacious intellect shall dissolve and scatter itself in the 
 ashes of the grave ; lost and annihilated, until it shall be 
 created anew, if that should ever happen. But the oppo- 
 site system, which we have endeavored to show to be 
 the true one, holds out a different view of the destiny of 
 our spiritual nature. It is true, the immortal existence of 
 the soul does not follow with absolute certainty from the 
 mere fact of its immateriality ; but it is at least rendered 
 in some degree probable. Certainly we have no direct 
 
64 IMMATERIALITY OF TliE MIND. 
 
 evidence of the discontinuance of the soul's existence, as 
 we have of that oT the body. What takes place at death 
 is only a removal of the soubs action from our notice, but 
 not, as far as we know, a cessation and utter extinction of 
 it. The supposition, therefore, is a reasonable one, that 
 the soul will continue to exist, merely because it exists at 
 present, inasmuch as its immaterial nature does not require 
 the suspension of its existence at death, and as we have at 
 
 least no direct evidence of such an event. Death, in the 
 
 language of Mr. Stev\art, only lifts up the veil, which con- 
 ceals from our eyes the invisible world. It annihilates the 
 material universe to our senses, and prepares our minds for 
 some new and unknown state of being. 
 
 In the second place, considering man, as he is, to be a 
 moral and accountable being, we feel as if his destiny were 
 not fulfilled in the present life. It would unsettle all our 
 hopes, trust, and happiness, if we did not believe in a great 
 moral plan, the completion of which is as certain as the 
 permanency of the omniscient Being, from whom it origi- 
 nated. But its completion in the present state is by no 
 means evident ; vice and virtue are here conflicting ; and 
 the eye of moral arid religious faith looks anxiously for- 
 ward to some future allotment, where the one shall meet 
 its rebuke, and the other be crowned v/ith its reward. 
 Oar present situation, considered in amoral point of view, 
 strongly suggests, and even demands for the soul an here- 
 after. 
 
 §. 42. Remarks of Addison on the souVs immortality. 
 
 Furthermore there is something in the expanding and 
 progressive nature of the soul, which strongly favors the 
 supposition of its future and even unlimited duration. 
 This important thought we find dwelt upon in the writ- 
 ings of Addison in the following terms. " How can it 
 
 enter into the thoughts of man, that the soul, which is ca- 
 pable of such immense perfection, and of receiving new 
 improvements to all eternity, shall fall away into nothing 
 almost as soon as it is created ? Are such abilities made 
 for no purpose ? A brute arrives at a point of perfection 
 
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND, 6& 
 
 that he can never pass : in a few years he has all the en- 
 dowments he is capable of; and were he to live ten thou- 
 sand more, would be the same thing he is at present. 
 Were a human soul thus at a stand in her accomplishments, 
 were her faculties to be full blown, and incapable of far- 
 ther enlargements, I could imagine it might fall away in- 
 sensibly, and drop at once into a state of annihilation. But 
 can we believe a thinking being, that is in a perpetual pro- 
 gress of improvements, and travelling on from perfection 
 to perfection, after having just looked abroad into the 
 works of its Creator, and made a few discoveries of his 
 infinite goodness, wisdom, and power, must perish at her 
 first setting. out, and in the very beginning of her inquir- 
 ies ? " (Spectator, No. 111.) 
 
 But after all we must rest as to this point chiefly on 
 Revelation. It is possible by various arguments to render 
 the immortality of the soul in a high degree probable, but 
 we do not profess to prove it beyond question ; for there 
 is nothing necessarily and in its own nature eternal but God 
 himself. The permanency of 'created things does not de- 
 pend necessarily on their being material or immaterial, but 
 on the will of their Creator. If every star shines, and 
 every flower blooms by the will of God; it is not the less 
 true, that every soul lives by the same will. We might, 
 therefore, remain in some degree of doubt on the subject 
 of the soul's immortality, did not the scriptures convert 
 our hopes and expectations into certainty. We are told, 
 that life and immortality, (which is only a Hebraistic 
 mode of expression for immortality of life,) are brought to 
 light in the Gospel. 
 
CHAPTER SECOND. 
 
 LAWS OF THE MIND IN GENERAL. 
 
 §. 43. Existence of laws even in material objects. 
 
 If it should be said in respect to the main argument of 
 the preceding chapter, that after all it is merely negative, 
 and only assures us what the mind is not, without telling 
 us what it is, we readily assent to this suggestion. And 
 we take this opportunity to repeat, what has been before 
 intimated, our anxiety to avoid all inquiries, which may 
 be either obviously frivolous in themselves, or which will 
 necessarily, and from their very nature, elude the most 
 careful search. That the mind is an existence, altogether 
 distinct from what we term matter, was an accessible ques- 
 tion, presenting a fair prospect of a satisfactory solution ; 
 but what the essence of the mind is, or what the mind is 
 in itself, one man knows as much as another, all being 
 equally ignorant. But it does not follow, because we are 
 ignorant of our mental nature in some respects, we .are, 
 therefore, ignorant in all. On the contrary, if we are un- 
 able to penetrate into the interiour nature of the soul, we 
 can, nevertheless, mark its operations, its growth, its re- 
 sults, and can distinctly point out some of the various 
 laws by which it is governed. It is this last topic, to 
 which we are next to proceed. It seems proper, howev- 
 er, before examining hiAVS in their connection with and 
 in their goverwiment of the mental action, briefly to con- 
 sider them in. their more obvious and general applica- 
 tions. 
 
LAWS OF THE MIND IN GENERAL. 67 
 
 It requires but a slight examination of those works, 
 which the Creator has so abundantly spread around us, 
 in order to satisfy ourselves, that every thing in nature 
 has its rules. The motion, expansion, increase, diminu- 
 tion, and position of objects, and whatever else we ex- 
 press when we speak of the changes they undergo, are 
 controlled by determinate principles. There does not 
 appear to be any exception, whatever objects we may turn 
 our inquiries to. We see the truth of what has been said, 
 even when we direct our attention to those parts of crea- 
 tion, which make the least approach to life, symmetry, 
 and beauty. There is a regularity discoverable in the 
 composition and formation of rocks, and in their posi- 
 tion ; and the same unchangeable rule, that holds the im- 
 mense sun in his orbit, prescribes and sustains the condi- 
 tion of the minute particles of air and water. In such 
 other natural objects, as approach more nearly to symme- 
 try and life, we witness increased indications of order ; 
 for instance in the growth of plants and trees ; in the sep- 
 aration of the moisture, that is taken from the earth, and 
 its distribution to the trunk .and rind, to the leaves, flow- 
 ers, and branches. But nothing more than this subjec- 
 tion to some fixed rule, this regular order, is meant, when 
 we use the term Law, and whien we speak in particular of 
 the laws of nature. 
 
 Nor is this state of things otherwise than might be an- 
 ticipated. That there should be an arrangement and or- 
 derly condition even of material things seems inevitably 
 to result from the mere fact of the existence of a Creator, 
 to whom they owe their origin. That higher and eifec- 
 tive existence, which we denominate God, implies, in its 
 very elements, a pervading inspection, a sleepless and in- 
 scrutable superintendence, w^hich looks upwards and down- 
 ward, within and around, wherever there is aught of time 
 or space, of visible or invisible, of material or immate- 
 rial. 
 
 §. 44. Objection from the apparent disorders in nature. 
 
 It is sometimes objected to this view of the connection 
 
68 LAWS OF THE MIND IN GENiCiiAi.. 
 
 and order of nature, that many things happen by chance ; 
 and it must undoubtedly be admitted, that such, in many 
 cases is the appearance. Nevertheless this appearance is 
 owing rather to the feebleness of our discerning powers, 
 than to any thing actually existing in the objects, towards 
 which these powers are directed. In other words, it is to 
 be ascribed rather to the imperfections of the mind, than 
 to the irregularities of nature. 
 
 The correctness of this solution of the difficulty in 
 question may be inferred from the fact, that events, both 
 natural and moral, which appear accidental and matters of 
 chance to one, are perceived by another, who has more 
 information, to be subjected to the orderly influence of 
 laws. The man of science, merely in consequence of his 
 different mental position, often takes a very different view 
 of the same object from the man, who is without scientific 
 knowledge ; and what, in this respect, is true of individ- 
 uals, compared with each other, may^equally well be said 
 of the men of any particular age, compared with the men 
 of a succeeding age. An ignorant generation will see mys- 
 tery and danger, where an enlightened one will find nei- 
 ther. In the present age of the world an eclipse of the 
 heavenly bodies is noticed without dismay, because it is 
 regarded as one of the settled and permanent adjustments 
 of nature ; but Tacitus has informed us, what surprise, 
 what doubt, and horror such an event could inspire in the 
 days of Tiberius. A comet appeared in 1456 ; it was a 
 period of great ignorance ; every man looked on his neigh- 
 bour with fear and astonishment, as if this strange sign in 
 the heavens foreboded some great convulsion, some wreck 
 of matter, or some subversion of empires. — But it so hap- 
 pened, that, in a subsequent age, this fearful visitant was care- 
 fully watched and noted by the English astronomer Halley. 
 By means of his observations he not only proved, that it 
 revolved round the sun, but was able to show its identity 
 with the comets of 1531, 1607, and 1682 ; and of course 
 that the period of its revolution was about seventy five 
 years. He accordingly predicted, that it would return in 
 1753 or the beginning of 1759, which proved true. — Since 
 
LAWS OF THE MIND. IN GENERAL. 69 
 
 that time, the fears, that were, connected with the appear- 
 ance of these luminaries, no longer exist ; men look upon 
 them with different eyes ; they regard them. as permanent 
 parts in the great arrangement and constitution of created 
 things ; not as the causes of terror and grief, but rather 
 as the indications and proofs of infinite wisdom and 
 power. 
 
 And then extending this train of thought yet further, 
 if we mount upward from the intelligent being, which we 
 denominate man, to those higher intelligences, which we 
 know to exist with only an imperfect l^nowledge of the 
 mode of their existence, how many of the secrets of na- 
 ture may we suppose cleared up to them, which, yet re- 
 main mysterious to us ! The obscurity, that rests on cre- 
 ation, diminishes more and more, as it is exposed to 
 the investigation of minds of a higher and a higher grade, 
 until we arrive at the mind of Omniscience, that embraces 
 it with a glance, and every where beholds order, and truth, 
 and harmony. 
 
 §. 45. Remarks of Montesquieu on laws. 
 
 These views do not profess to be novel ; it is of more 
 importance that they be found, true ; and it is some indi- 
 cation, that they are so, that similar sentiments, and ex- 
 pressed with the characteristic terseness and vivacity of 
 that distinguished author, are found in the writings of 
 Montesquieu. The passage is a fitting introduction to a 
 Work, which with much reason is thought to have exert- 
 ed an influence on Political, hardly inferiour to that of 
 Locke's Essay on Mental Philosophy. 
 
 " Laws, in their most general signification, are the 
 necessary relations arising from the nature of things. In 
 this sense all beings have their laws, the Deity his laws, 
 the material world its law's, the intelligences superiour to 
 man their laws, the beasts their laws, man his laws. 
 
 They who assert, that a blind fatality produced the vari- 
 ous effects we behold in this world, talk very absurdly ; for can 
 any thing be more unreasonable than to pretend that a 
 blind fatality could be productive of intelligent Beings } 
 
70 LAWS OF THE MIND IN GENERAL. 
 
 There is then a primitive reason ; and laws are the re- 
 lations subsisting between it and different beings, arid the 
 relations of these to one another, 
 
 God is related to the universe as creator and preserver; 
 the laws by which he created all things, are those by which 
 he preserves them. He acts according to these rules, be- 
 cause he knows them ; he knows them, because he made 
 them ; and he made them, because they are relative to his 
 wisdom and power. 
 
 Since we observe that the world, though formed by 
 the motion of matter, and void of understanding, subsists 
 through so long a succession of ages, its motions must cer- 
 tainly be directed by- invariable laws : and could we im- 
 agine another world, it must also have constant rules, or 
 it would inevitably perish." 
 
 §. 46. Of laws in relation to the mind. 
 
 The remarks on the subject of laws, which have thus 
 far been made, are of a general nature, although illustra- 
 ted hitherto by particular reference to the material world. 
 
 If it be true, that matter has its laws, still more 
 should we suppose, that the mind has ; if every vapour in 
 the atmosphere moves in relation to some general princi- 
 ple, it might naturally be expected, that all mental acts 
 also have their time, their condition, and their limits. 
 And this conjecture is in various ways amply supported. 
 It could not long escape the notice of the inquisitive 
 disposition of men, that, whatever might be the fact in 
 other things, there are rules and laws of conduct ; certain 
 general principles, by which the intercourse and duties of 
 men are regulated in all situations. The earliest of these, 
 and such as were most general and necessarily antecedent 
 to civil society, have been sought out, and embodied un- 
 der the head of Natural Law. Then came the forma- 
 tion of the body Politic, and with it such new enactments 
 as were suited to this new order of things ; for man, wheth- 
 er alone or with others, has never existed nor is he able to 
 exist without the guidance of some fixed principles. 
 
 The laws, which we now refer to, may be called in 
 
LAWS OF THE MIND IN GENERAL. 71 
 
 some sense exterior, inasmuch as they have special rela- 
 tion to the duties of mankind, and their external conduct 
 in general. But when, at a subsequent period, men turn- 
 ed their attention from the outward to the inward, they 
 were not long in clearly discovering the marks of an in- 
 teriour uniformity and order ; they detected in every men- 
 tal state a complete history, its beginning and progress, its 
 relations and end; and thus gradually became assured of a 
 set of subjective laws, giving guidance and support to the 
 
 mind itself. And it is these, which we are now more 
 
 particularly to attend to. 
 
 §. 47. Jllental laws may be divided into two classes. 
 
 . The term Law, when applied to our mental nature, 
 is merely a designation or statement of those circumstan- 
 ces, according to which the general action of the mind, 
 and blie more definite exercise of its particular susceptibil- 
 ities are regulated. — If we are right in giving this account 
 of mental laws, they naturally, although they may some- 
 times approximate and even run into each other, resolve 
 themselves into two classes. 
 
 The first class are those, included in the first clause of 
 the above definition, viz. such as restrict and limit the gen- 
 eral action of the mind.— We find, w^hen we resolve our 
 complex states of mind into their parts, that we at last ar- 
 rive at certain elementary thoughts, beyond W'hich we 
 cannot proceed ; the nature of the mind itself will not per- 
 mit it to go further. All those ultimate truths also, which 
 we come upon at almost every step in the mind's history, 
 and which we are equally unable to explain and to analyze 
 further, are to be reckoned among the permanently res- 
 trictive laws of our spiritual being. The same may be 
 said of whatever can be ascertained to be necessary and 
 exclusive conditions of the mind's action in the whole pro- 
 gress of its inquiries, such as the well known and indis- 
 pensable conditions of time and space. 
 
 The second class are those, which regulate in particu- 
 lar the separate susceptibilities of the mind ; such, for ex- 
 ample, as sustain and limit the associating principle, belief. 
 
72 LAWS OF THE MIND IN GENERAL. 
 
 and reasoning. — The first class relate to the mind in gen- 
 eral, the second to its parts ; the first teach us, how far we 
 can go, the second, under what circumstances we can reach 
 the goal, which it is permitted to aim at ; but the nature 
 of both will more fully appear in our subsequent inquiries. 
 
 48. §. Distinction between the susceptibilities and the laws 
 of the mind. 
 
 It may conduce to the better understanding of this gen- 
 eral subject and of its numerous applications, to point out 
 here particularly the distinction between laws and suscep- 
 tibilities. Although they haA^e sometimes been confound- 
 ed together, it has been owing to mere inadvertence, since 
 a distinction so clearly exists between them. This differ- 
 ence may be illustrated in the case of mental association. 
 
 The fact, that one state of mind is succeeded by anoth- 
 er, that one idea calls up another, indicates a mental pow- 
 er or susceptibility ; while the circumstances, whether 
 more or less general, under which the exercise of this sus- 
 ceptibility is regulated, are more commonly and properly 
 termed laws. The former mode of expression indicates 
 that inherent energy, sometimes known as the power or 
 faculty of association, which pervades and charact-erizes 
 our mental nature ; the latter indicates the particular lim- 
 its, within which this form of the soul's power is restrain- 
 ed and governed. 
 
 Again, what we term belief is undoubtedly a distinct 
 state of the mind, and of course implies the mental power 
 or susceptibility of believing. But is is a matter sufficient- 
 ly well known, that this power is not exerted at all times, 
 and under all circumstances ; in other words, one state of 
 things is followed bv belief, while another is not. Now 
 LAWS OF BELIEF, in distinction from the power oi* suscep- 
 tibility, are only general statements of those circumstances 
 or perhaps more properly of those occasions, in which be- 
 lief is found necessarily, and, as it were, from our very 
 constitution to exist. 
 
CHAPTER THIRD. 
 
 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 §. 49. Evidence of the general fact of the minors being limited. 
 
 We shall first consider the mind in those respects, in 
 which its general action appears to be naturally and per- 
 manently limited. That there are such natural limitations 
 and obstructions in the progress of knowledge, it is pre- 
 sumed, will not be doubted. Every one must be con- 
 scious of this, in some degree for himself; feeling, as we 
 do, from time to time the struggles within us, repressed 
 and driven back by the embankments of our nature, like 
 the imprisoned bird, that beats the bars of its cage, and 
 seeks flight in vain. As might be expected also, all lan- 
 guages bear Avitness to this restricted intellectual ability ; 
 for we never fail to find in them abundance of such terms 
 as these, unknowable, inconceivable, incomprehensi- 
 ble, IGNORANT, FOOLISH, and the like. Now we may be 
 assured, that men would not have invented terms of this 
 description, and in such numbers, unless they had been 
 satisfied of the existence of a sound and ample cause for 
 them. But it is not necessary to debate at length a point, 
 on which there can hardly be supposed to be a difference 
 of opinion. 
 
 Believing, therefore, although there may be no end to 
 the mind's journey in the practicable and allotted direc- 
 tion, that the pathways of knowledge are hedged up by 
 impassible" barriers in various places on the right hand and 
 10 
 
74 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 left, it will be the object of the present chapter to ascertain 
 some of these limitations. And it may be added here, 
 that this is the precise topic, referred to in a former sec- 
 tion, whieh Mr. Locke thought of so much practical im- 
 portance, and which first led him to direct his powerful 
 intellect to the systematic study of human nature. We 
 enter, therefore, into this discussion with the twofold en- 
 couragement of its own obvious utility, and of that philo- 
 sopher's weighty authority. 
 
 §. 50. Objection to this inquiry from the incompleteness of the 
 mind^s history. 
 
 Nevertheless we are not ignorant of the objection, 
 which is soiuetimes made even by those, who would be 
 disposed to admit the general correctness of what has been 
 said, to entering at all into this subject : viz. that it is too 
 early a period in the mind's history to determine what are 
 its boundaries, and what are not. The mind, it is said 
 with truth, is essentially active and inquisitive ; its own 
 nature forbids its remaining stationary, but compels it, as 
 it were, to make constant advances even on the present 
 theatre of being ; and hence it is contended, we are utter- 
 ly unable to foresee what depths it may fathom, what 
 heights it may ascend, and what limits it may pass in fu- 
 ture times. Tliat there is some weight in this objection, 
 cannot be denied ; but when rightly considered, it is valid 
 only in part. It may justly require us to be cautious in 
 our investigations, but should not compel us to give them 
 up altogether. 
 
 We do not find, that objections of this sort deterred 
 Locke from undertaking this inquiry. How affecting it 
 is, to hear a man of such vast capacity, compared with 
 the intellects of other men, acknowledging with the ut- 
 most simplicity and sincerity his mental weakness ! '' He, 
 that knows any thing, knows this in the first place, that 
 he need not seek long for instances of his ignorance. The 
 meanest and most obvious things, that come in^ our way,* 
 have dark sides, that the quickest sight cannot penetrate 
 into. The clearest and most enlarged understandings of 
 
LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 75 
 
 thinking men find themselves puzzled and at a loss in eve- 
 ry particle of matter." 
 
 The distinguished metaphysician, who expresses him- 
 self in this humble way, ever sought the truth with the 
 greatest earnestness ; and what he noticed without, com- 
 bined with what he felt within, sufficiently satisfied him, 
 that some obstacles in the way of the mind's progress, al- 
 though many might in the course of time be overcome, 
 would remain insurmountable. Nor has the progress of 
 knowledge since his time shown that conclusion to be a 
 mistaken one. On the contrary, the history of mental 
 efforts in all past ages, from the beginning to the present 
 period, have tended to confirm his opinion of the mind's 
 restricted power, and have shown, in some few instances 
 at least, how far we may advance, and where our exertions 
 are brought to a stand.* 
 
 §. 5l. The mind limited as to its knowledge of the essence 
 or interiour nature of things. 
 
 We may sometimes find ourselves unable to describe 
 the laws, which restrict the general action and progress of 
 the mind, with so much precision as. we can those, which 
 have relation to its particular susceptibilities ; but there 
 
 * The whole fourth book of Mr. Locke's Essay relates to grounds 
 of belief and the limits of our capacities. There is some reason to 
 believe also, from the account which he gives of the way, in which 
 he was led in these inquiries, that this book was the first written by 
 him. On this subject, Mr. Stewart, in his Historical Dissertation, 
 (Pt. II, §. 1,) has the following interesting remarks — " On com- 
 paring the Essay on Human Understanding with the foregoing ac- 
 count of its origin and progress, it is curious to observe, that it is 
 the fourth' and last book alone, which bears directly on the author's 
 principal object. In this book, it is further remarkable, that there 
 are few, if any, references to the preceding parts of the Sssay ; in- 
 somuch that it might have been published separately, without being- 
 less intelligible than it is. Hence, it seems not unreasonable to 
 conjecture , that it was the first part of the work in the or^er of 
 composition, and that it contains those leading and fuadament^ 
 thoughts which offered themselves to the author's mind, when he 
 first began to reflect on the friendly conversation, which gave lise 
 
16 LAWS TH^T LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 are good grounds for saying in general terms, that the 
 mind is in some way permanently limited as to its knowl- 
 edge of the essence of objects. The word essence is un- 
 derstood to express that interiour, but imperceptible con- 
 stitution of things, which is the foundation of the various 
 properties and qualities that are perceived ; in other words, 
 that particular constitution, which all existences must be 
 supposed to have in themselves, independently of any 
 thing and every thing oxternal. But Vv^hatever this may 
 be, either in the spiritual or material w^orld, no man 
 knows it, no man understands it. 
 
 A person may look on the outside of a watch or 
 clock, and the visible part, the face and hands may indi- 
 cate to him what was intended, viz. the hour and minute 
 of the day. But although he may clearly apprehend 
 this, he may be altogether ignorant of the internal and in- 
 visible mechanism, on which the external and visible re- 
 sult depends. And so in the material world we know the 
 outward and sensible, while we are altogether shut out 
 from that unsearchable eilicacy, on which the external 
 agency depends ; and in the immaterial world we know 
 the properties and qualities, while we are ignorant of that 
 
 to his philosophical researches. The inquiries in the first and sec- 
 ond books, which are of a much more ahstract, as well as scholas- 
 tic nature, than the sequel of the work, probably opened gradually 
 on the author's mind, in proportion as he studied his subject with a 
 closer and more continued attention. They relate chiefly to the 
 origin and to the technical classification of our ideas, frequently 
 branching out into collateral, and sometimes into digressive, discus- 
 sions, without much regard to method or connection. The third 
 book, (by far the most important of the whole,) where the nature, 
 the use, and the abuse of language are so clearly and happily illus- 
 trated, seems, from Locke's own account, to have been a sort of af- 
 ter-thougJjf; and the tw^o excellent chapters on the Association of 
 Ideas and on Enthusiasm (the former of which has contributed, as 
 much as any thing else in Locke's writings, to the subsequent prog- 
 ress of Metaphysical philosophy) were printed, for the first time, in 
 ihQ fourth edition of the Essay." 
 
LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 77 
 
 subjective entity, without which qualities and properties 
 could not exist. 
 
 §. 53, Our knowledge of the nature of mind itself limited. 
 
 Some particulars will help to illustrate and establish 
 what has been remarked. — In the first place, with the na- 
 ture of the mind itself, which is the instrument and foun- 
 dation of all other knowledge, men possess but an imper- 
 fect and limited acquaintance ; nor have we reason to sup- 
 pose that it will ever be essentially otherwise than it is at 
 present. That the mind exists is a truth ; this simple fact is 
 a vnatter of undoubted knowledge ; but the mode or na- 
 ture of its existence; that interiour vitality, which consti- 
 tutes the true mental being in distinction not only from ma- 
 terial being, but also from its own attributes and qualities. is 
 what men have never been able fully to comprehend, and 
 probably never will. 
 
 In proof of the correctness of this sentiment, reference 
 might safely be made again to consciousness, to each one's 
 inward and personally deep conviction of ignorance on 
 this subject. Not that consciousness makes a positive dec- 
 laration of this ignorance, but it very clearly implies it, 
 by its acknowledged inability to make us acquainted with 
 any thing further than the mere qualities and operations 
 of the mind. The schoolmen also mi«^ht here be brought 
 to our recollectioujwho long attempted, with all the force 
 of their acute and disputatious intellects, to break down 
 this barrier of knowledge, but without success. And 
 without impropriety, we might refer likewise to the re- 
 marks, which are so commonly, and every where made, 
 that the mind is not a direct subject of contemplation, 
 that what is called its essence can never be found out, and 
 that we know nothing of it in itself. Remarks of this 
 kind are not made so frequently without grounds for them; 
 they are founded in the general experience, and of course 
 are valuable, considered as an expression of that experi- 
 ence. 
 
 This view, it is important to be kept in recollection, is 
 not exclusive ; we assert our ignorance of the mind in 
 
78 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 some respects, bat not in all. Onr knowledge embraces a 
 certain extent, but is unable to go beyond. 
 
 §.53. Remarks on the extent of this limitation. 
 
 To prevent misapprehensions, thereforejit seems proper 
 to point out some of the particulars, in which actual knowl- 
 edge in respect to the mind, is supposed to exist. 
 
 (1) Men universally experience certain internal feel- 
 ings and operations, such as perceiving, belief, volition, 
 imagining, and comparing ; and so far as the mere exis- 
 tence of these mental states is concerned, they have knowl- 
 edge. They know the fact of their taking place,and know 
 them also, as we shall have occasion to see, in their rela- 
 tions. (2) These feelings give occasion for the addition- 
 al and altogether distinct notion of mind. It seems to be 
 a well settled sentiment, that, without such mental states 
 as have been referred to, the latter notion could never ex- 
 ist ; that, without the actual experience of intelligence and 
 emotion, men could never form the' idea of an intelligent 
 and sentient being. And so far, therefore, as the mere 
 occasions of forming the idea of mind, and the mere exis- 
 tence of the idea, which they give rise to, are concerned, we 
 may suppose ourselves to possess knowledge. — (3) Subse- 
 quently, but almost immediately, we experience another 
 original state of mind, that of the relative suggestion of 
 appropriation or possession. That is to say, we feel the 
 ideas, which were the occasions of the additional notion 
 of mind, to belong to this latter idea ; the relative sugges- 
 tion, the origin of which is inseparable from our constitu- 
 tion, indissclubly binds the two together as subject and 
 attribute. And so far also we have knowledge. — We may 
 go further in our inquiries into the mind, and say with cer- 
 tainty what it is not ; for instance that it is not material, 
 since we have never been able to observe and detect in it 
 the qualities and operations of matter. Nor is it necessa- 
 ry to assert, that these are all the particulars, in which 
 we may obtain direct and positive knowledge. 
 
 But after all, when we return to the main question of 
 what the mind is in itself, of what the mind is, consider-^ 
 
LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 79 
 
 ed as separate from its qualities and operations, and any 
 mere attendant circumstances, it is then we cannot avoid 
 feeling our utter inability to penetrate the pale of its inte- 
 riour nature. We contemplate it in the outer temple, but 
 the veil excludes us from the shrine. Ao^ain and a^ain 
 we return to the examination of this high and mysterious 
 thought, but it still remains simple, inseparablcj and inde- 
 finable ; and however long and intently we may revolve it 
 for the purpose of breaking up its simplicity, and knowing 
 more of its hidden and invisible essence, it will ever set 
 our efforts at defiance. 
 
 §. 54. Our knowledge oj matter in certain r'espects limited. 
 
 If we turn from n^nd ,to matter, to the knowledge 
 of which some may suppose we possess a mor^ obvious 
 and easy access, we shall find our efforts circumscribed by 
 like limits. We are able to advance to a certain extent in 
 our inquiries, but there we find ourselves compelled to 
 stop. 
 
 When, for example, a piece of wood, or any other of 
 those material bodies, by which we are surrounded, is pre- 
 sented to any one for his examination, there are some 
 things in this material substance, which may be known, 
 and others, which cannot. Its colour, its hardness or soft- 
 ness, its extension are subjects, upon which he can inform 
 himself, can reason, can arrive at knowledge. He opens 
 his eye ; an impression is made cm the organ of vision, 
 and he has the idea of colour. By means of the applica- 
 tion of his hand to the wood, he learns the penetrability 
 or impenetrability, the softness or hardness of the mass, 
 which he holds. By moving his hand from one point to 
 another in the mass, he is informed of the continuity or ex- 
 tension of its parts. But when he pushes his inquiries be- 
 neath the surface of this body, when he attempts to be- 
 come acquainted not only with its qualities, but with that 
 supposed something, in which those qualities are often im- 
 agined to inhere, and, in a word, expends his efforts, in 
 obedience to this unprofitable determination, in learning 
 what matter is^ independently of its properties, he then 
 
80 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 stumbles on a boundary, which cannot be passed, and seeks 
 for knowledge wliere by their very constitution men are 
 not permitted to know. 
 
 §. 55. Our ignorance of the reciprocal connection of mind and 
 
 matter. 
 
 If we find both mind and matter incomprehensible to 
 a certain extent, we might naturally anticipate no less mys- 
 tery in their connection with each other, in their recipro- 
 cal action and influence. The fact of such a connection, 
 and the extent to which it exists, have already been brief- 
 ly remarked on. When the mind is strongly affected, the 
 body is for the most part affected also ; and on the other 
 hand, when the body is either vigo-rous with health or de- 
 pressed with sickness, the mind generally exhibits a sym- 
 pathetic vigor of depression. If this be not uniformly 
 and always the case, it certainly is in a great number of 
 instances. 
 
 or the truth of the general fact, with those exceptions 
 and modifications made in the last chapter, 'there can be 
 no doubt ; but of the mode of the fact, of the manner of 
 this connection, it is not within the powers of the human 
 mind to conceive ; for it is to be observed, it is not the 
 operation of matter on matter, nor of mind on mind,which 
 might be supposed to be something coming more readily 
 v/ithin the range of our comprehension; but the opera- 
 tion on each other of existences, utterly distinct ; notpos- 
 sessing, as far as can be judged, a single attribute in com- 
 mon. 
 
 §.56. Illustrated in the case of loluntary action. 
 
 What has now been said, it will be noticed, relates to 
 the general connection of mind and matter, the general re- 
 ciprocation of influence ; but this striking law of our na- 
 ture shows itself constantly, and in particular instances. 
 
 We might refer, in particular, to all cases of voluntary 
 exertion. Puttinor forth that act of the mind, which we 
 call volition, we move a hand, a finger, a foot ; mind puts 
 
LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 81 
 
 matter in motion ; the material is controlled by the im- 
 material ; but common as it is, it is not incomprehensible. 
 
 We might refer again, for a like instance of the con- 
 nection we are considering and of our ignorance of the 
 way in which it is effected, to every act of the Sujjreme 
 Being. In the highest and truest sense God is mind, a 
 truly spiritual existence. The hands and feet and eyes, 
 which are ascribed to Him in Scripture, are expressions, 
 accommodated to man's limited views. He created all 
 things. A desire, a mere volition gave birth to light and 
 air, to earth and water, to the earth and all it contains. 
 We admit the fact, but can give no explanation ; we live 
 and move in the midst of the great result, but we know 
 not how it was achieved. 
 
 The instances, which have now been mentioned, may 
 be thought by some to be too diverse fjom each other in 
 degree, if not in kind, to illustrate the same principle ; 
 but we are not singular in bringing them together for this 
 purpose. In point of mystery, Mr Locke seems to place 
 the dependence of bodily action on volition on the same 
 footing with the wonder and inconceivableness of Creation 
 itself. His expressions are these. — "My right hand writes, 
 while my left hand is still. What causes rest in one, and 
 motion in the other ? Nothing but my will, a thought of 
 my mind; my thought only changing, my right hand 
 rests, and the left hand moves. This is matter of fact, 
 which cannot be denied. Explain this and make it intel- 
 ligible, and then the next step will be to understand Crea- 
 tion." 
 
 §.57. Further illustrations of our ignorance in respect to this 
 connection. 
 
 But this is not all. The influence we are speaking of, 
 even in its more particular and definite exhibitions, is not 
 all on one side. If it be true, that mind can govern mat- 
 ter, that the immaterial can shape that which is material 
 to its own ways and purposes, it is not less so, that matter 
 possesses a degree of control over the mind ; the visible and 
 tangible is capable of exerting a power on that, which can 
 11 
 
82 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 be approached neither by sight nor touch. And if the ex- 
 ertion of influence in the former case is mysterious, it is 
 equally so in the latter. It is impossible for any man to 
 tell on the one hand, why a new state of mind should in 
 any case cause a new state of matter ; or on the other, why 
 a new state or disposition of matter should cause a new 
 state of mind, as we find to be the fact in whatever we have 
 to do with the material world. Two obvious instances 
 will sufiice to suggest others. 
 
 I, — The rays of light are reflected from the various ob- 
 jects around us, and if they are only permitted to reach 
 the retina of the eye, which is the end of their journey, 
 how many pleasing appearances the mind becomes pos- 
 sessed of, and which it would not have had, were it not 
 for the presence of a few material and very minute par- 
 ticles! There is at once spread out and displayed, as it 
 were, in the soul all the diversities of the most delightful 
 landscapes, the undulations of hill and valley, expanses 
 and partial glimpses of water, reaches of forest of various 
 form and hue, interspersed with cottages and cultivated 
 places. Who could have imagined, that the soul of man 
 would be so suddenly roused up to embrace such compli- 
 cated and pleasing views at the mere presence and bidding 
 of a few rays of light, the smallest and apparently most in- 
 efficient things in nature! Still more, who can point to 
 the cause, or explain the method of it? Who can tell the 
 mode of intercourse between those rays and the mind, ex- 
 cept only the Being, who frames and knows all things? 
 
 II, — When the air is put in motion by musical instru- 
 ments of whatever kind, how the whole soul is affected 
 and filled with new sensations ! How it languishes also 
 with grief, or rejoices with hope, or glows with patriotic 
 emotion! The action of these undulations of air not only 
 fills the soul with present sensation and feeling, but opens 
 up new trains of thought and emotion by association, and 
 combines the thought and feeling of the past with the pres- 
 ent. 
 
 " How soft the music ofthose village bells, 
 " It'alling at intervals upon the ear. 
 
I 
 
 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 83 
 
 " With easy force it opens all the cells 
 
 " Where memory slept. Wherever 1 have heard 
 
 " A kindred melody, the scene recurs, 
 
 " And with it all its pleasures and its pains. " 
 
 ^. 58. Of space as a boundary of intellectual efforts. 
 
 Furthermore, we find the action of our mental powers, 
 when occupied in particular in gaining a knowledge of 
 material things, to be restricted and limited by space. 
 
 What space is, it is not necessary to undertake to say, 
 because no person is without as clear a knowledge of it, 
 as can possibly be given by any form of words. But one 
 thing seems to be certain, little as we know of what goes 
 under that name, that it bounds and shuts up all that part 
 of our knowledge at least, which relates to matter. As 
 far as our direct and positive experience is concerned, ev- 
 ery one is prepared to admit, that his acquaintance with 
 material objects is circumscribed in this manner. But we 
 may go farther ; we may make the appeal with confidence 
 to the general experience, and aver on the ground of that 
 experience, that it is impossible for men to form even a 
 conception of the existence of matter independently of 
 space. 
 
 In some respects also, space limits our conceptions of 
 MIND. As long as we consider mind immaterial, we do 
 not of course regard it as occupying space in the material 
 sense ; nor in any sense, of which language, which dis- 
 covers the materiality of its origin in its whole structure, 
 can convey any adequate notion. But however this may 
 be, when we inquire for the mere fact, it is undoubtedly 
 out of our power to conceive of either matter or mind 
 existing out of space. 
 
 It has already been remarked, that the Supreme Being 
 is an immaterial or spiritual existence, and it may be ob- 
 jected here, that this view tends to circumscribe and res- 
 trict the divine nature. But this objection is founded on 
 a mistake. It is true our conceptions are bounded by 
 space ; the human mind in its highest flights cannot ex- 
 tend itself beyond its limits ; but we are not prepared to 
 say, that the actual existence of God is limited by our con- 
 
84 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 ceptions. On the contrary we may suppose him to exist 
 and act in regions far beyond the furthest excursions of 
 all inferior intelligences, in hidden apartments and unex- 
 plored tracts of the universe, where the widest and most 
 untiring range of thought in men and even in angels has 
 failed to penetrate. — On this subject all language fails ; all 
 imagination comes short ; in the words of Holy Writ ap- 
 plied to another case, Eye hath not seen^ nor ear heard^ nor 
 hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive. 
 
 §. 59. Of the relation of time to our mental conceptions. 
 
 Time also is another of those limits, which seems to 
 have been imposed from the begining on men's faculties. 
 
 As time is different from space, so the relations, which 
 existences of whatever Idnd have to it, are different. But 
 without at present entering into the subject either of its 
 nature or relations, w^e may lay down the general propo- 
 sition, that we know nothing, and can conceive of noth- 
 ing, where time is not. What we express by the word 
 Eternity is only another name for time never completed ; 
 and consequently clearly intimates the limited compass of 
 our understandincrs. 
 
 o 
 
 It is possible, the same objection may be made here as 
 in respect to space, that this doctrine tends in some way to 
 limit the natural existence of the Supreme Being. Bat 
 this is a misapprehension. It does not limit the Divine 
 nature, but only asserts, when applied to the Supreme 
 Being, the limitation of our conceptions of his nature. 
 
 Mr. Locke once made the unadvised and hasty asser- 
 tion, that external bodies operate upon us by impulse, and 
 nothing else. Afterwards, he said with the candour 
 characteristic of truly great minds, although he could 
 conceive of no other way of their operation, yet it was 
 too bold a presumption to limit God's power in this point 
 by his own narrow conceptions. So in the present case, 
 we may truly say, we cannot conceive of God's existing 
 abstractly from time, or out of time, but it would be too 
 bold a presumption in us to limit the Divine nature by 
 our own narrow and bounded views. In point of fact 
 
LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 85 
 
 both time and space, which exceed the comprehension 
 of the human mind, and consequently place a limit on all 
 its efforts, dwindle into the very smallest compass, in com- 
 parison with the unlimited expansion apd ubiquity of the 
 Supreme Being. With him there is, properly speaking, 
 no such thing as time ; it is lost and extinguished in the 
 unfathomable recesses of an ever present eternity ; expres- 
 sions, which, although as good perhaps as we can select, 
 evidently intimate our ignorance of what we attempt to 
 convey. The Scriptures expressly and repeatedly take this 
 view. " With the Lord, (says an Apostle,) one day is as a 
 thousand years and a thousand years as one day." 
 
 Although it may be humiliating to our pride, to find 
 that our minds are so bounded and shut up, to learn that 
 the utmost compass of our own knowledge and existence 
 forms but a mere point amid the vast, unmeasured, and 
 unmeasurable circumference of God's knowledge and ex- 
 istence, still we cannot wisely and consistently reject the 
 great truth itself. The ablest and wisest men Iiave receiv- 
 ed it, and in some instances it has had a partial effect of 
 a very beneficial kind, inspiring an increased degree of 
 humility and caution, and a feeling of forbearance and 
 candour. — True,the poet Gray represents the mighty mind 
 of Milton as having scaled the limits we have been con- 
 templating, ihe flaming bounds, as he calls them. 
 
 But this is only the license and fiction of a poet. If 
 that should ever happen, which he has so sublimely im- 
 agined, and men should ever break through the walls of 
 space and time, which God has erected between himself 
 and inferior intelligences, we might well anticipate the 
 result, which the same glowing fancy has indicated ; 
 
 " They saw, but blasted with excess of light, 
 " Closed their eyes in endless night." 
 
 §. 60. Mystery of human freedom as coexistent with the 
 Divine prescience. 
 
 Whether we look within or without, to the world of 
 matter or of mind, instances in illustration of our subject 
 will by no means be wanting. If there be a degree of 
 
86 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 mystery even in the smallest particle of matter, sufficient 
 to baffle our inquiries, then we may reasonably expect to 
 be frequently put back and baffled in the very intricate 
 subject of the mind and its relations. Accordingly we 
 find various inquiries in the philosophy of the mind, 
 which have hitherto eluded all efforts at a satisfactory so- 
 lution of them ; and many things render it not improba- 
 ble, that they ever will. — One of these difficult topics, 
 stated in a few words, is the consistency of man's freedom 
 with the Divine prescience ; but as it is a topic, which has 
 been much debated, and on which an opinion should not 
 be lightly hazarded, it seems proper to remark, that it is 
 brought in here, merely for the purpose of illustration. 
 
 Various considerations and trains of argument are 
 thought to have established these two distinct points, viz. 
 the foreknowledge of God and the entire freedom of hu- 
 man actions. In the view of very many persons, both 
 propositions are susceptible of being clearly and satisfac- 
 torily established. But another question immediately pre- 
 sents itself, which, by the admission of all parties, is not 
 so easily disposed of. The consistency of the Divine pre- 
 science, which is supposed necessarily to imply an antece- 
 dent and perfect superintendence as its basis, with man's 
 unshackled freedom, has hitherto been found a knot, a 
 puzzle, which the greatest minds have found themselves 
 unable to resolve. 
 
 What shall we say here ? Have we arrived in this 
 instance at a limit, which we cannot pass ? Are we called 
 upon to believe without being able to explain ? Are we 
 required distinctly to admit our inability to solve every 
 thing ? — If such be our apprehension of the state of this 
 question, then surely it becomes us in this and in all simi- 
 lar cases, to submit cheerfully to what we have grounds 
 for conceiving to be an ultimate restriction, an inevitable 
 ignorance. 
 
 §. 61. Limits of the nmkdindicated by the terms , infinity , 
 eternity^ &c. 
 
 Again the limited nature of the human mind will be 
 
LAWS THAT LIMIT TKE MIND. 87 
 
 found to discover itself in the use of such terms as these, 
 eternity, infinity, universe, omniscience, incomprehensi- 
 bility, &c. — We never can fully understand what is meant 
 to be expressed by the word omniscience, so long as we 
 know not all things ourselves. We bear it on our tongues, 
 it is true, and apply it to the Supreme Being ; but every 
 one knows and feels, that it falls vastly short of the mark. 
 
 We speak of the universe, which means the whole ; 
 but it is impossible for us to form an idea of the whole, 
 applicable to all existences, which shall perfectly and neces- 
 sarily exclude any existence beyond its boundaries. No 
 man's mind can limit space even in conception, however 
 true it maybe, that all our conceptions are limited by that; 
 and wherever there is space, there either is, or may be 
 existence. Therefore, when we speak of the universe, we 
 hardly know what we speak of ; it is something great, 
 mysterious, and in part at least utterly undefinable, which 
 the mind struggles after, but without the power to grasp 
 it. — The terms, infinity, eternity, and the like imply, that 
 the ideas, intended to be expressed by them, are imperfect ; 
 that there is something in them beyond the mind's reach; 
 and of course that the eiforts of the mind, when made in the 
 direction indicated by them, are bounded and kept back 
 by some fixed law. 
 
 It may be further added, that, in all truly simple 
 ideas, we have reached a boundary, which we cannot 
 pass. We cannot resolve them into others ; we cannot 
 detect in them any subordinate parts ; we cannot define 
 them ; we must leave them as they are. 
 
 §. 62. Of restraints resulting from ultimate facts of the mind. 
 
 We encounter restraints also ; in other words, we have 
 gone as far as the powers of our minds will permit, when- 
 ever we have ascertained any ultimate facts or truths of 
 our mental constitution. It is possible we may sometimes 
 suppose ourselves to have arrived at ultimate principles, 
 when we have not ; but on the supposition that we have 
 truly reached them, it is certain we can go no further. 
 
88 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 Out of the multitude of instances, that will present them- 
 selves, a few will suffice to illustrate this. 
 
 I, — The nature of perception, by means of which 
 we become acquainted with external objects, is such, there 
 can be no knowledge from this source, unless the external 
 object be present in the first instance. However great we 
 suppose its energies to be, the mind is here evidently re- 
 stricted. It can have no sensations of sight without the 
 presence of a visible object, no sensations of touch with- 
 out the presence of a tangible object, no sensations of hear- 
 ing without something audible. 
 
 II, — The mind finds itself restricted likewise in those 
 subsequent conceptions of objects, which have once been 
 perceived. The existence of such conceptions depends 
 on the exercise of association ; and the action of associa- 
 tion is known to be governed by fixed aud inflexible laws, 
 the operation of which we cannot suspend and alter, ex- 
 cept only indirectly and imperfectly. 
 
 Ill, — We cannot call up thoughts?, as w^e shall hereafter 
 have opportunity to notice, by mere direct volition ; and 
 hence in all cases of reasoning and imagination, we find 
 ourselves subject to the restraint occasioned by this ina- 
 bility. — It is the same in various other instances. 
 
 §. 63. The sentient part^ as icell as the intellect has limits. 
 
 There are boundaries also, although we may not be 
 able to indicate them with equal clearness, in the sentient 
 part of man. These restrictions undoubtedly diflfer from 
 those, which have been considered, in not being impas- 
 sible ; but it is certain, that this can never take place, 
 that these boundaries can never be transgressed, without 
 the most unhappy consequences. The passions, for in- 
 stance, have their due limits, and if it be possible, as we 
 know it to be so from too frequent experience, for them to 
 be exceeded, still it is always attended with an interrup- 
 tion of the general adjustment of the mind. If a man be 
 exceedingly angry, the susceptibilities of the memory and 
 of the judgment, and other powers will be disturbed ; if 
 
LAWS THAT LIMIT THE xMlND. 89 
 
 he be animated with very strong fears or joys, the result 
 will the same. 
 
 And what is a striking evidence, that the whole soul 
 of man, the sentient part as well as the intellect, has its 
 definite arrangement and limits, is, that, whenever the pas- 
 sions of whatever kind are indulged to a very great ex- 
 tent, they not only cause a temporary interruption of the 
 just action of the mind, but may produce a permanent and 
 total disorganization. Let them put forth their full pow- 
 er for any length of time, and the mind is torn, as it 
 were, from its basis ; there is felt and witnessed a wreck 
 of the spiritual fabric, a prostration of its strength, a dis- 
 tortion of its symmetry, a blotting out of its magnificence. 
 
 §. 64. Mental limitations implied in man's infcrionty to his 
 Creator. 
 
 It is not necessary at present to pursue this general top- 
 ic further, than merely to add the remark, that, while we 
 shall find much in our mental structure to enhance our ad- 
 miration, there will be something also to check the feeling 
 of pride. What has been said in the course of this Chap- 
 ter is sufficient perhaps to lead us to anticipate this. Much 
 there will be undoubtedly, as we go on in our inquiries, to 
 make us think well and highly of the mind and to encour- 
 age mental efforts, but from time to time there will be 
 found something, which it is hardly less important to be 
 acquainted with, to qualify this favourable estimation, and 
 to restrain an overweening confidence. 
 
 And let us here pause and ask, can it be otherwise ? 
 Ought it to be otherwise, when we consider man's origin, 
 the fewness of his days, his foundation in the dust ? True, 
 man is great and noble, compared with much, that lives, 
 and flourishes, and perishes around him ; but then how his 
 greatness is diminished, when compared with much, that 
 lives and flourishes above him ! If there were with him, as 
 with his Creator, neither beginning of years, nor beginning 
 of knowledge, the case would be different. But since he 
 began to know, as it were, but yesterday, and has only 
 12 
 
90 LAWS THAT LIMIT THE MIND. 
 
 such means of knowledge as have been given him, why 
 should he be ashamed of his ignorance, or complain that 
 every effort is not successful, that every wish is not grati- 
 fied ! 
 
 It is the necessary result of the relation he sustains to his 
 Creator,that his mental powers are circumscribed. The Au- 
 thor of the mind could not have made it without limits, 
 without its allotted boundaries, unless he had disrobed him- 
 self of the attribute of omniscience, and conferred it upon 
 the creature ; unless he had made man the source and 
 centre of all foresight and all knowledge, and been wil- 
 ling to assign to himself a subordinate and inferiour 
 station. 
 
 Let us not then do violence to our moral, as well as 
 our intellectual being, by striving after that, which is for- 
 bidden ; by forgetting the weakness of our nature ; by 
 rejecting the salutary consideration, that the excellence of 
 man is but imperfection, and the wisdom of man but fol- 
 ly in comparison with God. 
 
CHAPTER FOURTH. 
 
 LAWS OF BELIEF. (I) CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 §. 65. Mature and degrees of belief. 
 
 Having considered laws, so far as is necessary at pres- 
 ent, as limiting and controlling the action of the mind in 
 general, we now come to that second class, which was 
 spoken of, viz. those, which have relation to the particu- 
 lar and subordinate susceptibilities of the mind, and of 
 these, we shall first examine the laws of belief. 
 
 As to the nature of what is called Belief, when we use 
 the term to express the result in distinction from the sus- 
 ceptibility, not much can perhaps be said more than this, 
 that it is a simple idea, a simple intellectual state, with 
 which we become acquainted, in the phraseology of Mr. 
 Locke from reflection, or more precisely by means of 
 that internal intimation, called Consciousness. Not being 
 a complex, but an uncompounded feeling, it does not ad- 
 mit of definition ; and yet all are supposed to have a 
 knowledge both of its existence, and of its general nature, 
 as far at least as a knowledge of our elementary notions is 
 attainable in any case. 
 
 As it is a simple idea, belief is always the same in 
 kind ; but it admits of different degrees. We determine 
 these differences of strength in the feeling by means of 
 that same internal consciousness, which assures us of the 
 existence of the mere feeling itself. In other words, we 
 
92 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 are conscious of, or feel our belief to be sometimes weak- 
 er, and at other times stronger. 
 
 To these different degrees of this mental state, we give 
 different names ; a low degree is termed presumption ; a 
 higher degree, probability ; and the highest possible be- 
 lief is termed certainty. When the mind is in tliat 
 
 state, denominated Certainty, we are generally said to 
 know the thing, to which this very strong belief relates. 
 But when we use knowledge and certainty as synonymous, 
 which is no doubt frequently done, we should remember, 
 that the highest possible belief is sometimes caused by im- 
 perfect or false evidence, and of course that we may some- 
 times find ourselves indulging the very strongest belief of 
 what does not actually exist. 
 
 §. Qj. Of the objects of belief. 
 
 Tt i:^ obvious, that the exercise of belief implies an ob- 
 ject or something believed, not less so, than that the put- 
 ting forth of memory implies something remembered. 
 Anything, which can be framed into a proposition, and is 
 susceptible of the application of any of the forms of evi- 
 dence whatever, may be an object of belief either in a 
 higher or less degree. And hence there are so many 
 things in nature, in the conduct of men, and in the pur- 
 suits and relations of life, coming within the limits of this 
 statement, we shall decline attempting an enumeration of 
 them, and merely say with Dr. Reid, that the objects of 
 belief are all things, whatever they may be, which are 
 believed.* 
 
 §.67. Of the laws of belief 
 
 If it be clear, that any part of our mental nature has 
 its laws, (and after what has been said, no doubt can be 
 thought to exist on that point,) it cannot fail to occur, 
 that the power of belief is as likely as any thing else in 
 the mind to be restricted and sustained in this manner. If 
 it were otherwise, if belief could arise without reference 
 to any fixed principles, men would shortly find themselves 
 
 "Reid's Intellectual Powers ofMan, Essay II. 
 
(I) CONSCIOUSNESS. 93 
 
 in a singular and unheard of condition ; the foundations 
 of all foresight and precaution, of all the common inter- 
 course of life, of all society and government would be ef- 
 fectually undermined. A moment's consideration of what 
 a state we should be in, in the defect of all fixed principles, 
 operating as the origin and guidance of our opinions, 
 must satisfy any one, that belief has its laws. 
 
 Accordingly our Creator has kindly attended to this 
 important part of our mental economy, and has so order- 
 ed things within and without us, that there is no want of 
 circumstances, which sustain a determinate and effective 
 relation to this susceptibility. 
 
 It is a great and undoubted principle, that all things in 
 the universe, coming within the range and cognizance of 
 the soul, whether material or immaterial, visible or invis- 
 ible, have an influence on it ; in other words, that there is 
 an universal law of belief. But this great principle, in 
 consequence of the objects, which are cap'able of affecting 
 the mind, being presented to it in different ways or un- 
 der different forms, may be resolved into subordinate 
 ones, and may accordingly be contemplated in parts or 
 sections. It is on this ground, that we are able to use the 
 plural, and to speak of laws of belief, the law of Con- 
 sciousness, the law of the Senses, the law of Testimony, 
 and the like. 
 
 §.68. Consciousness a law af belief. 
 
 Before entering into the examination of the separate 
 grounds of belief just referred to, it is proper to observe, 
 it is not deemed necessary to make a distinct account of 
 those original intimations, which seem to flow out neces- 
 sarily from the mere fact of the mind's existence and ac- 
 tive nature, such as the notion of mind, identity, self, or 
 person, &c. Highly important as these elementary thoughts 
 are, and controlling, as they constantly do, our belief; still 
 it is to be remembered, they are comparatively few in 
 number, and have already been in part attended to under 
 the head of Primary Truths. 
 
 Of those elementary laws, therefore, which are appli- 
 
94 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 caple to belief, the first we shall consider is that of con- 
 sciousness. We find no doubts expressed, that what we 
 call by that name is the occasion of giving rise to, and of 
 regulating our opinions and convictions within certain 
 limits. 
 
 ThM portion of belief and knowIedgCj which has par- 
 ticular relation to the mental states, to our internal and 
 spiritual qualities and operations, is generally referred by 
 writers to^'the exercise of this law, as the ground of its ori- 
 gin. Nothing is more frequent than such language as this, 
 that we possess by this means a knowledge of this or that 
 internal feeling, a knowledge of this or that mental quali- 
 ty, an acquaintance with the different emotions, and pas- 
 sions, with volition, reasoning and the like. 
 
 However suitable such language is, and however well 
 founded the doctrine implied in it, it may still be impor- 
 tant to inquire somewhat at length. What is to be under- 
 istood by the particular term consciousness? Unless we 
 do this, as the word is often employed without much pre- 
 cision, we shall from time to time be aware of an indis- 
 tinctness and confusion, arising from this neglect.' 
 
 §.69. Of what is to be understood by Consciousness. 
 
 But before we can come to a satisfactory conclusion as 
 to what is to be understood by the term we are looking in- 
 to, two remarks are to be made. 
 
 First ; the idea of mind, of that permanent something, 
 which thinks and feels in distinction from mere thought 
 and feeling, is antecedent to consciousness. In the chap- 
 ter on Primary Truths, which professedly treated of such 
 elementary thoughts and views as are the early and neces- 
 sary results of our internal constitution, it was seen, that, 
 immediately on the taking place of the first mental expe- 
 rience, the notion or idea of mind arises ; that is to say, 
 the idea of that distinct sentient existence, which is always 
 implied, when we speak of ourselves. At any rate, wheth- 
 er this idea be immediately consequent on^the first mental 
 exercise or not, it arises at so early a period as to lay the 
 foundation of that mental state we are considering. It 
 
(1) CONSCIOUSNESS. 95 
 
 will be found an useless attempt to conceive of any such 
 thing as consciousness, without implying in it the antece- 
 dent notion of mind or self-existence. 
 
 Second ; another observation to be attended to, is, 
 that conciousness is not a susceptibility or power of the 
 mind. It seems impossible to consider it in that light, 
 without abandoning every consistent notion of it at once. 
 Nor will writers of authority be found in general so to 
 regard it, if we take suitable pains to collect and com- 
 pare the various expressions they employ. It may in- 
 deed be admitted, that Avhat is termed consciousness, 
 though not a susceptibility itself, implies the exercise of 
 one, that of judgment or relative suggestion ; but there 
 is no less evidence of its being as truly different from that 
 particular power, the exercise of which is acknowledged 
 to be implied in it, as cause is from effect. 
 
 § . 70. Consciousness properly a complex slate of the mind. 
 
 But if consciousness be not a power or susceptibility^ 
 (terms, which in their application to the mind are em- 
 ployed as expressing essentially the same thing,) what are 
 we then to understand by it ? — And the answer is, that it 
 may be described, w*ith the nearest approach to a correct 
 notion of it, as merely a complex state of mind embra- 
 cing at least the three following distinct notions ; viz. (1) 
 the idea of self or of personal existence, expressed in 
 English by the words self, myself, and the personal 
 pronoun I ; (2) some quality or state or operation of the 
 mind, whatever it may be ; and (3) a relative perception 
 of possession, appropriation, or belonging to. A person 
 says for instance, I am conscious of gratitude. In this 
 instance, which may be taken as representative of many 
 others, the idea of self or of personal existence is ex- 
 pressed by the prououti I ; there is a different mental feel- 
 ing, and expressed by its appropriate term, that of the af- 
 fection of GRATITUDE ; the phrase, conscious of, express- 
 es the feeling of relation, which instantaneously and ne- 
 cessarily recognizes the affection of gratitude as the attri- 
 bute or property of the subject of the proposition. — ► 
 
S6 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 Consciousness, therefore, involving a relative idea, can 
 never exist without at least two others ; and any propo- 
 sition, expresssive of consciousness, is necessarily expres- 
 sive of a complex, and not of a simple state of mind. 
 
 It may be objected here, that this makes consciousness 
 a mental law, and a mental state at the same time. True; 
 but what is a law of belief ? Only the existence of those 
 general circumstances, in which belief necessarily arises ; 
 and of course there is no incompatibility in its so being. 
 And in point of fact it will be found, that every case of 
 consciousness, whether it embrace a greater or less num- 
 ber of simple ideas, furnishes occasion for belief, and is 
 infallibly accompanied by it. 
 
 §. 71. Of the proper objects or subjects of consciousness. 
 
 As there are some things, to which consciousness, as 
 the term is usually employed, relates, and others, to which 
 it does not, it is proper to consider it in this respect in 
 particular. As to those thoughts, which may have aris- 
 en, or those emotions, which may have agitated us in times 
 past, we cannot with propriety be said to be conscious of 
 them at the present moment ; although we may be con- 
 scious of that present state of mind, which we term the 
 recollection of them ; that is to say, of other feelings of 
 the sartie kind, and having relation to a particular antece- 
 dent occasion. 
 
 Again, consciousness has no direct connection with 
 such objects, whether material or immaterial, as exist at 
 the present time, but are external to the mind, or in other 
 words have an existence independent of it. It has rela- 
 tion only to things in the mind, as we sometimes say ; or 
 more definitely to states of the mind. 
 
 §. 72 . The objects of consciousness, wholly internal and 
 mental. 
 
 As the remark at the close of the last section has re- 
 lation both to material and immaterial existences, it 
 seems proper to consider it distinctly in these two res- 
 pects. 
 
(1) CONSCIOUSNESS. 97 
 
 I, — We are not, strictly speaking, conscious of any 
 material existence whatever ; of the earth we tread, of 
 the food that nourishes us, of the clothes that protect, or 
 of any thing else of the like nature, with which we are 
 conversant. In accordance, however, with the view 
 which has been given of this subject, w^e can rightly as- 
 sert our consciousness of the effects they produce within 
 us, of the sensations of taste, of heat and cold, of resis- 
 tance and extension, of hardness and softness, and the 
 like. Our consciousness does not, in strictness of speech, 
 hold a direct relation to thfe existence of the material 
 world in any form, whether- particular or general ; that is 
 to say, we are not directly conscious of such existence, 
 but only of that state of mind, which we term a firm 
 belief or knowledge of it. • 
 
 II,— -This view holds also in respect to immaterial 
 things, even the mind itself, as we have had occasion al- 
 ready to see. We are not directly conscious, using the 
 term in the manner which has been explained, of the exis- 
 tence even of our own mind, but merely of its qualities 
 and operations, and of that firm belief or knowledge of 
 its existence, necessarily attendant on those operations. 
 ^'According to the common doctrRie, (says Mr. Stewart, 
 Philos. Essays, I, ch. I,) of our best philosophers, it is 
 by the evidence of consciousness we are assured that we 
 ourselves exist. The proposition, however, w^ien thus 
 stated, is not accurately true ; for our own existence is not 
 a direct or immediate object of consciousness, in the strict 
 and logical meaning of that term. We are conscious of 
 sensation, thought, desire, volition ; but we are not con- 
 scious of the existence of mind itself ; nor would it be 
 possible for us to arrive at the knowledge of it (supposing 
 us to be created in the full possession of all the intellectu- 
 al copacifc that belong to human nature) if no impres- 
 sion were ever to be made on our external senses. The 
 moment that, in consequence of such an impression, a 
 sensation is excited, we learn two facts at once ;— the ex- 
 istence, of the sensation, and our own existence as sentient 
 beings : in other words, the verv first exercise of my con- 
 13 ' • 
 
9S LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 sciousness necessarily implies a belief, not only of the 
 present existence of what is felt, but of the present exis- 
 tence of that which feels and thinks ; or (to employ plain- 
 er language) the present existence of that being, which I 
 denote by the words /and myself. Of these facts, howev- 
 er, it is the former alone of which we can properly be 
 said to be conscious, agreeably to the rigorous interpreta- 
 tion of the expression. The latter is made known to us 
 by a suggestion of the understanding consequent on the sen- 
 sation, but so intimately connected with it, that it is not 
 surprising that our belief of fcoth should be generally re- 
 ferred to the same origin." 
 
 In the same way we are not said to be conscious of 
 any higher spiritual beings, although we may be conscious 
 of a firm belief, that such exists We are not conscious of 
 God and of his existence; although we are so, as all 
 men of the least moral and religious tendencies of mind 
 will readily and gratefully acknowledge, of the idea or no- 
 tion of a Supreme Author, and of the unalterable belief 
 of his existence.^ 
 
 §. 73. The belief from consciousness of the most decided ^ 
 a§d highest kind. 
 
 Consciousness is not only a law of our belief, but it 
 undoubtedly is one of the most authoritative and decisive ; 
 in other words, the belief, attendant on the exercise of it, 
 is of the highest kind. It appears to be utterly out of our 
 power to avoid believing beyond a doubt, that the mind 
 experiences certain sensations, or has "Certain thoughts, or 
 puts forth particular intellectual operations, whenever in 
 point of fact that is the case. We may be asked for the 
 
 * The views here expressed may be supposed to hold good also in 
 respect to all abstractions whatever^ w.hich have a real and objec- 
 tive existence. Accordingly we are not conscious of space and 
 lime, on the common supposition of their possessing a distinct and real 
 entity, although we are of the ideas of them, or of those new states of 
 mind, which exist, when sptice and time are the objects of contem- 
 plation. 
 
(1) CONSCIOUSNESS. 99 
 
 reason of this belief, but we have none to give, except that 
 it is the resiilt of an ultimate and controlling principle of 
 our nature ; and hence that nothing can ever prevent the 
 convictions, resulting from this source, and nothing can 
 divest us of them. 
 
 How often men retire within their own bosoms, shut- 
 ting up the outward senses, and pleasing themselves with 
 the soul's inward contemplations, with new trains of 
 thought, with many past remembrances, with melancholy 
 or joyful affections ! Now it would be not only as easy, 
 biit as rational, to disbelieve the existence of the soul it- 
 self, as to disbelieve the existence of these rich* and varied 
 experiences, of which it is the subject. In, fact, neither 
 the one, nor the other is possible ; nor has the whole his- 
 tory of the mind made known any instances, that have 
 even the appearance of being kt variance with this view, 
 except a few cases of undoubted insanity. A man may 
 reason against consciousness as a ground and a law of be- 
 iief, either for the sake of amusing himself or of puzzling 
 others, but when he. not only reasons against it as such, 
 but seriously and sincerely rejects it, it becomes quite an- 
 otljier concern, and such an one has by common consent 
 broken loose from the authority of his nature, and is truly 
 and emphatically beside himself. It will be impossible 
 to find a resting-place, where such a mind can fix itself 
 and repose ; the best established truths and the wildest 
 and most extravagant notions will stand nearly an equal 
 chance of being either rejected or received ;• fancy and 
 fact will be confounded and mingled together ; and the 
 whole mind become a chaos like that of the world when 
 it was without form and void. 
 
CHAPTER FIFTH. 
 
 LAWS OF BELIEF. (II) THE SENSES. 
 
 §.74. General statement as to the confidence placed in 
 tke senses. 
 
 The second law of belief, which it falls to us to con- 
 sider, is that of the senses. In speaking of the senses in 
 this light, what we mean to say in respect to them isj 
 that the feelings, to which they give rise, are, by our very 
 constitution, the occasion of belief, or are attended by it. 
 In this sense they are a law. * 
 
 This statement, it will be noticed, involves and takes 
 for granted tlie truth of the proposition, that belief and 
 sensations go together. Nor is this, assumption made 
 without abundant evidence to support it. It "must without 
 much inquiry be clear to all,that the convictions and actions 
 of men are daily controlled by the senses. As a general 
 statement, it is undoubtedly true, that in the judgments, 
 which "we constantly form of human conduct, and of the 
 existence, forms, properties, and relations of the material 
 world, no one refuses them his confidence. 
 
 What better evidence can there be of the cocrectness 
 of this statement, than the accordant sentiment and declar- 
 ation of the great mass of mankind ! On this point the 
 feelings, conduct, and sayings of men are prompt and 
 coincident. 
 
 When one man states to anothe;- a report of what has 
 happened at some time, the hearer yields to him a great- 
 
LAAVS OF BELIEF. (II) THE SENSES. 101 
 
 er or less degree of credence according to circumstances. 
 But if the narrator asserts, that he saw or heard it with 
 his own eyes or ears, that the affair actually carae under 
 the cognizance of his own senses, everybody deems such an 
 assertion enough ; it is not thought important to inquire 
 farther. But certainly if men believe in their neighbours 
 for this cause, they would believe in themselves for the 
 same cause ; if they rely without hesitation on- the sight 
 and hearing of others, not less would they rely on their 
 own. 
 
 . •• ' 
 
 §. '7$. The belief arising from the senses may be consider- 
 ed in two respects. 
 
 But it is necessary, in order to have a correct concep- 
 tion of this subject, to make a more particular statement. 
 
 It will readily occur, that what we term the senses. 
 without delaying to give a specific explanation of them 
 here, are merely forms of bodily organization ; they are 
 in themselves utterly exclusive of any thing of an intellec- 
 tual kind ; and therefore, are to be regarded only as the 
 instrument or medium of new m,ental states. Having 
 premised this, we are prepared to remark further, that, 
 by the constitution of our natures, e.very affection of the 
 senses, whether from a material or any other cause, is fol- 
 lowed by a corresponding affection or state of the mind. 
 The belief, therefore, of which the senses are the law 
 and the occasion, may be considered in two respects. 
 
 In the first place there is a belief attendant on the new 
 feelings, which are thus occasioned, and which has par- 
 ticular reference to those feelings ; we believe them to 
 exist ; and, as they are the direct subjects of our conscious- 
 ness, there is neither doubt nor disagreement in this par- 
 ticular., From the nature of the case, all our sensations 
 must be precisely such, both in kind and intensity, as we 
 feel them to be. It is the actual feeling, and nothing 
 else, which constitutes the sensation ; and it bears a dif- 
 ferent name from a multitude of other feelings, not so 
 much in consequence of a difference in itself, as in its im- 
 mediate cause or antecedent. 
 
102 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 In the second place there is a belief also, and per- 
 haps not less strong and decisive, which has relation 
 not to the mere feelings themselves, but to external obr 
 jects. It is this in particular, which we have reference to, 
 when we speak of the senses as a law of belief. The new 
 feelings,*following an affection of the senses, are in sohie 
 sense the occasions, on which the active and curious mind 
 moves out of the world of its own spiritual and im- 
 material existence, and becomes acquainted with matter. 
 It is somewhat here as in the reading of a book. When 
 we read, nothing but "certain marliS or lines, and arrang- 
 ed in a particular order, ai;e directly presented to our sen- 
 ses ; but we find them connected with new states of mind 
 utterly distinct from the' direct impression they make. 
 A piece of paper, written upon with these inky delinea- 
 tions, becomes to the soul a sign of the most various and 
 exalted ideas ; and in like manner, in the permanent or- 
 dering of our mental nature, it is found to be the case, 
 that certain new affections of the mind, provided they are 
 caused by means of the senses, become the signs of vari- 
 ous existences, which are wholly diverse from the feelings 
 themselves. We experience the feelings, which all admit 
 to be in themselves neit'her archetypes nor resemblances 
 of any thing whatever, which is external to the soul ; and 
 then at once we become acquainted with a vast multitude 
 of objects, that would otherwise have remained unknown 
 to us ; with trees and fields and waters, with the melody 
 of birds and the sounds of the elements, with the sun and 
 moon and stars of the firmanent, and with all the forms 
 and beauties and glories of creation. 
 
 §. 7G. Objection to reposing confidence in the senses. 
 
 As has been remarked, the objects, of which oyr sen- 
 sations are in this way the. signs, are attended with be- 
 lief. On the authority of such feelings as are immediate- 
 ly consequent on an affection of the senses, all mankind, if 
 the evidence of their general conduct and of their ex- 
 press declarations is to be regarded, believe in those ob- 
 jects, as having a distinct and real existence, as having 
 
(II) THE SENSES.' 103 
 
 forms, properties, and relations. Nevertheless without 
 denyino-the fact of this general reliance on the senses as a 
 ground of belief, an objection has been made to its being 
 well placed. The objection, stated in a few words, is 
 this ; That our senses sometimes deceive us, and lead us 
 into mistakes. 
 
 In support of the objection, such instances as the fol- 
 lowing are brought forward. Thesunand moon ap- 
 pear to the spectator on the earth's surface to be a foot 
 or two in diameter, and little more than half a mile high ; 
 a strSit stick, thrust into the water, appears to us crooked, 
 as seen by the eye in that position ; a square tower at a 
 dis.tance is mistaken for a round one ; a piece of ice for a 
 stone ; a brass coin for a gold one. Nor are such mis- 
 takes to be ascribed solely to the sense of sight ; they are 
 not unfrequently committed, when we rely, on the inti- 
 mations of the taste and smell, the touch and hearing. 
 
 Various facts of the above kind have been brought 
 forward to discredit the senses, and to prevent a reliance 
 on them. It is not necessary to extend the enumeration of 
 them, as these will serve for a specimen of the whole. 
 It may be proper to add, however, that we are reminded 
 also of our dreams, and of the acknowledged, fact, that 
 whatever is the subject of them often appears as wellde- 
 fmed to our perceptions as what takes place, when we are 
 awake ; and yet there is nothing actually seen or heard. 
 
 §. 77. The senses imperfect rather than fallacious. 
 
 That there are some apparent grounds for the objec- 
 tion, which has been made to a full reliance on tbe testis 
 mony of the senses, it is not necessary to deny. Never- 
 theless the great mass of the alledged fallacie;^ originating 
 from this cause, not^vithstanding the perplexities they 
 have occasioned Malebranche and his predecessors and 
 followers in the same path, admit of a satisfactory ex- 
 planation. 
 
 But before entering into particulars, it is requisite to 
 make the general remark, that the senses are more prop- 
 
104 LA.WS OF BELIEF. 
 
 erly imperfect than fallacious ; and that they lead us as- 
 tray, not so much by their own direct action, as in conse- 
 quence of our expecting too much of them. Now if we 
 keep this in view, and moderate and chasten our expec- 
 tations by thfe evidently limited nature of the senses, we 
 shall find less to complain of. 
 
 Among other things should it be kept in mind, that 
 each sense .acts in .its own allotted sphere, and can be aux- 
 iliary to the enlargement of our knowledge only within 
 the limits of that sphere. Accordingly, in order to a 
 correct result in any particular case, there may some- 
 times be need of a combined action : there may be need 
 of the testimony of other senses. In many cases, where 
 we suppose ourselves to be led into. mistakes by the sense 
 of sight, we may obtain a more correctestimation by call- 
 ing in the aid of the touch. And we are permitted, and 
 we may say, required, to carry out and complete the inti- 
 mations of the senses by the deductions of reasoning. 
 If the bodily eye alone be unable to give us a correct 
 idea of the sun and moon, the eye of the mind may right- 
 ly be called in to its assistance. By this means we cannot 
 only indicate the size of those bodies, but mark out the 
 path of their motion ; and thus not only seeing those 
 things, which actually exist, but those, which are to be 
 hereafter, we can predict their position and appearance, 
 before that position and those appearances happen. 
 
 §.78. Some alkdged mistakes'of the senses owing to. 
 want 0^ care. 
 
 If t|j.e- course, pointed out in the last section, were al- 
 ways followed, the mistakes we are exposed to woidd be 
 less frequent: But even when we refer to all the senses, 
 and combine with this reference the*deductions of reason- 
 ing, we may still err from want of care. Beyond all 
 question some of the mistakes, ascribed to the senses, are 
 owing topremature inferences from them ; to a want of 
 caution, discrimination, and full inquiry. 
 
 This particular subject is illustrated as follo-ws by Dr. 
 
(II) THE SENSES. 105 
 
 Reid. — "Many things called the deceptions of the senses 
 are only conclusions rashly drawn from the testimony of 
 the senses. In these cases the testimony of the senses is 
 true, but we rashly draw a conclusion from it, which does 
 not necessarily follow. We are disposed to impute our 
 errors rather to false information than to inconclusive 
 reasoning, and to blame our s'enses for the wrong conclu- 
 sions we draw from their testimony. 
 
 " Thus, when a man has taken a counterfeit guinea for 
 a true one, he says his senses deceived him ; but he lays 
 the blame where it ought not to be laid: for we may ask 
 him, did your senses give a false testimony of the colour, 
 or of the figure, or of the impression ? No. But this is 
 all that they testified and this they testified truly. From 
 these premises you concluded that it was a true guinea, 
 but this conclusion does not follow ; you erred therefore, 
 not by relying upon the testimony of sense, but by judg- 
 ing rashly from its testimony. Not only are your senses 
 innocent of this error, but it is only by their information 
 that it can be discovered. If you consult them properly, 
 they will inform you that what you took for a guinea is 
 base metal, or is deficient in weight, and this can only be 
 known by the testimony of sense. 
 
 *' I remember to have met with a man who thought the 
 argument used by Protestants against the Popish doctrine 
 of transubstantiation, from the testimony of our senses, 
 inconclusive ; because, said he, instances may be given 
 where several of our senses may deceive us: how do we 
 know then that there may not be cases wherein they all 
 deceive us, and no sense is left to detect the fallacy ? I 
 begged of him to know an instance wherein several of 
 our senses deceive us. I take, said he, a piece of soft turf, 
 I cut it into the shape of an apple ; with the essence of 
 apples, I give it the the smell of an apple ; andvvith paint, I 
 can give it the skin and color of an apple. Here then is 
 a body, which if you judge by your eye, by your touch, 
 or by your smell, is an apple. 
 
 '-'■ To this I would answer, that no one of our senses de- 
 ceives us in this case. My sight and touch testify that it 
 14 
 
106 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 has the shape and colour of an apple: this is true. The 
 sense of smelling testifies that it has the smell of an apple: 
 this is likewise true, and is no deception. Where then 
 lies the deception? It is evident it lies in this, that because 
 this body has some qualities belonging to an apple, I con- . 
 elude that it is an apple. This is a fallacy, not of the sen- 
 ses, but of inconclusive reasoning. "* 
 
 §.79. Of mistakes in judging of the motion of objects. 
 
 " Many false judgments, (continues the same judicious 
 writer,) that are accounted deceptions of sense, arise from 
 our mistaking relative motion for real or absolute motion. 
 These can be no deceptions of sense, because by our senses 
 we perceive only the relative motions of the bodies ; and it 
 is by reasoning that we infer the real from the relative 
 which we perceive. A little reflection may satisfy us of 
 this. 
 
 " It was before observed, that we perceive extension to 
 be one sensible quality of bodies, and thence are necessa- 
 rily led to conceive space, though space, be of itself no 
 object of sense. When a body is removed out of its 
 place, the space which it filled remains empty till it is 
 filled by some other body, and would remain if it should 
 never be filled. Before any body existed, the space which 
 bodies now occupy was empty space, capable of receiving 
 bodies, for no body can exist where there is no space to 
 contain it. There is space therefore wherever bodies ex- 
 ist, or can exist. 
 
 '' Hence it is evident that space can have no limits. It 
 is no less evident that it is immovable. Bodies placed in 
 it are movable, but the place where they were cannot be 
 moved ; and we can as easily conceive a thing to be mov- 
 ed fram itself, as one part of space brought nearer to, or 
 removed further from another. 
 
 "This space, therefore, which is unlimited and im- 
 movable, is called by philosophers absolute space. Ab- 
 solute, or real motion, is a change of place in absolute 
 space. 
 
 *Reid's Intellectual Powers of Man, Essay II. 
 
(11) THE SENSES. 107 
 
 "Our senses do not testify the absolute motion or abso- 
 lute rest of any body. When one body removes from 
 another this may be discerned by the senses ; but whether 
 any body keeps the same part of absolute space, we do 
 not perceive by our senses. When one body seems to re- 
 move from another, we can infer with certainty that there 
 is absohite motion, but wiiether in the one or the other, 
 or partly in both is not discerned by sense. 
 
 *'0f all the prejudices which philosophy contradicts, I 
 believe there is none so general as that the earth keeps its 
 place unmoved. This opinion seems to be universal, till 
 it is corrected by instruction, or by philosophical specula- 
 tion. Those who have any tincture of education are not 
 now in danger of being held by it, but they find at first a 
 reluctance to believe that there are antipodes ; that the 
 earth is spherical, and turns round on its axis every day, and 
 round the sun every year. They can recollect the time 
 when reason struggled with prejudice upon these points, 
 and prevailed at length, but not without some effort. 
 
 *' The cause of a prejudice so very general is not un- 
 worthy of investigation. But that is not our present bu- 
 siness. It is sufficient to observe, that it cannot justly be 
 called a fallacy of sense ; because our senses testify only 
 the change of the situation of one body in relation to other 
 bodies, and not its change of situation in absolute space. 
 It is only the relative motion of bodies that we perceive, 
 and that we perceive truly. It is the province of reason 
 and philosophy, from the relative motions which we per- 
 ceive, to collect the real and absolute motions which pro- 
 duce them. 
 
 " All motion must be estimated from some point or 
 place, which is supposed to be at rest. We perceive not 
 the points of absolute space from which real and absolute 
 motions must be reckoned : and there are obvious reasons 
 that lead mankind in the state of ignorance, to make the 
 earth the fixed place from which they may estimate the 
 various motions they perceive. The custom of doing 
 this from infancy, and of using constantly a language 
 which supposes the earth to be at rest, may perhaps 
 
iOS LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 be the cause of the general prejudice in favor of this 
 opinion. 
 
 " Thus it appears, that if we distinguish accurately be- 
 tween what our senses really and naturally testify, and 
 the conclusions which we draw from their testimony, by 
 reasoning, we shall find many of the errors, called falla- 
 cies of the senses, to be no fallacy of the senses, but rash 
 judgments, which are not to be imputed to our senses." 
 
 §.80. Of mistakes as to the distances and magnitude of 
 objects. 
 
 One class of the fallacies by means of the senses is 
 made up of those errourswe commit in our perceptions of 
 the distance of objects. Our sight, it is said, often rep- 
 resents objects to be near which are distant, and objects 
 to be distant, which are near. That we often form erro- 
 neous judgments as to the distance of objects is true ; but 
 it is a mistaken sentiment, which ascribes these erroneous 
 opinions exclusively to the misrepresentations of the sight, 
 or of any other sense. The subject of distance will 
 shortly come up again ; and we shall therefore antici- 
 pate it only so far as to remark, that the perception of dis- 
 tance is not an original act of the sight, but is something 
 acquired. We are not properly said to see distance, but 
 rather to judge of distance by sight ; and hence the data, 
 furnished by that sense, may be right, and still the con- 
 clusions deduced from them be wrong. 
 
 II, — Another class of errours are those of magnitude. 
 The notions, which we form on that subject also, are ac- 
 quired, and not original. We judge objects to be great 
 or small in comparison with ourselves or with one anoth- 
 er ; and not in consequence of any thing, which is di- 
 rectly and immediately perceived in the objects them- 
 selves. We might call many objects small, which hap- 
 pened to be of the size of a particular diamond, and yet not 
 inconsistently speak of the diamond itself as a very large 
 one; and this for the simple reason, that our notions of 
 large and small are not absolute but relative, and are for- 
 med by repeated acts of comparison. If there were but 
 one object in creation beside ourselves, and if we could 
 
(11) THE SENSES. 109 
 
 not reason from ourselves to that object, we could not pos- 
 sibly form any notion of its magnitude as distinct from 
 the mere idea of extension. It is very clear our senses 
 could not of themselves authorize us to speak of such an 
 object as large or small. Nor could it be done by reason- 
 ing, inasmuch as there are supposed to be no other objects, 
 with which to compare it. — These few remarks, the cor- 
 rectness of which may more fully appear hereafter, will 
 suffice to evince, that such mistakes, as may exist in regard 
 to the distance and magnitude of objects, are not exclusive- 
 ly attributable to the senses. 
 
 §. 81. The senses liable to be diseased. 
 
 There is one respect, however, in which it is perhaps 
 true, that we can speak with propriety of deceptions, ari- 
 sing from the cause now under consideration. The body 
 as a whole being liable to be diseased, the senses as a part 
 of the physical system are of course not exempted from 
 this liability. As a mere question of fact, it cannot be 
 deemed a matter of doubt, that the senses are often phys- 
 ically disordered ; and at such times all persons are liable 
 to be led astray by them. What is sweet to persons or- 
 dinarily, may appear bitter to one with a diseased palate ; 
 what is white to the mass of mankind may appear of a 
 yellow hue to one, whose organ of sight is diseased ; 
 the physical condition of the sense of touch may be so 
 perverted as to lead the diseased person to imagine he is 
 made of glass or feathers instead of flesh and blood. 
 
 But it is surely enough to say, in respect to cases of 
 this kind, that such is the condition of humanity, the 
 common allotment, stamped both upon body and mind, 
 and on all their powers ; and he, who knows it not, has, 
 in great likelihood, studied more carefully the powers 
 and excellencies, than the infirmities of human nature. 
 
 What principle in our mental constitution is not liable 
 to be perverted ? What susceptibility is not liable to find 
 its action suspended ? What strength is there, that may 
 not be weakened? Or what beauty that may not be de- 
 formed ? In all our conduct we rely, and very correctly. 
 
I 
 
 110 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 on the MEMORY, but the laws, which sustain that inestima- 
 ble faculty, will sometimes grow w^eary, inconstant, and 
 treacherous. We rely with equal readiness on the reason- 
 ing power ; no one doubts, that its conclusions are a 
 ground of belief. But what is reasoning, when uttered in 
 the ravings of a madman, or when drawing its conclusions 
 in a lunatic asylum ? 
 
 It follows, therefore, if the senses deceive us in the case 
 we are now attending to, the fault, if such it is to be con- 
 sidered, is not an exclusive one. It belongs to other parts 
 of our nature also, not excepting its noblest and most ef- 
 ficient characteristics. 
 
 §. 82. Our knowledge of the material world from the senses. 
 
 It will be noticed, that, in what has been said, we have 
 taken for granted the actual existence of an external ma- 
 terial world ; and we may add here, that it is by means 
 of the senses we have a knowledge of such existence. It 
 would have been premature to have adverted particularly 
 to this subject, without first noticing and disposing of the 
 objection, that the senses are not entitled to our reliance. 
 From what has been brought forward, it clearly appears, 
 that the position of their leading us astray does not hold 
 good when we separate the proper objects of them from 
 what are not, and when we guide and carry out the inti- 
 mations of one sense by the aids of the others and of the 
 reasoning power. - 
 
 In respect to Vae topic now especially to be consider- 
 ed, it may perhaps be said with confidence, that no man, 
 who employs the senses at all, can doubt of the real exis- 
 tence of an external, material creation. All external na- 
 ture is operating upon us from the very moment of our 
 birth ; and giving origin, consistency, and strength to this 
 belief. The resistance, which bodies present to the touch, 
 when that sense is impressed upon them by the agency of 
 the muscles, probably gives occasion for the distinct and 
 essential idea of externality ; and with this idea tlie sen- 
 ses soon enable us to associate others, as extension, colour, 
 form, and all material qualities and properties. In this 
 
(II) THE SENSES. Ill 
 
 way we become acquainted^vith the whole outward world, 
 w^hicli, we are now prepared to assert explicitly, has an 
 actual and independent existence. 
 
 But a new train of thoughts arises here. It may be 
 said that the mere fact of our having ideas of externality, 
 extension, colour, and the like, does not necessarily in- 
 volve and imply the true and actual existence of those 
 things, which they represent, or of which they are suppo- 
 sed and believed to be the effect. In other words we 
 may possess certain internal affections, and attribute them 
 to something external and material as their cause ; and we 
 may truly and sincerely believe the reality of such a 
 cause, while in point of fact it does not exist ; and conse- 
 quently, our conviction of a truly existing material world 
 may be a self imposition and delusion. On this view 
 of our exclusion from any satisfactory knowledge of a 
 material world, which is not so singular as not to have 
 had some acute advocates, a few remarks are to be of- 
 fered. 
 
 § . 83 . Correctness of their testimony in this respect. 
 
 The first remark, which we have to make, concerns 
 the mere fact of belief. We have already made the dec- 
 laration with confidence, that no man, who makes use of 
 the senses at all, can doubt of the reality of external ma- 
 terial things. It is no presumption to assert, that the be- 
 lief of the reality of an external cause of our sensations 
 js universal. This is the common feeling, the common 
 language of all mankind. 
 
 Those, who deny the propriety of relying on the evi- 
 dence of the senses for the existence of the material 
 world, and who deny such existence, should explain this 
 belief. That such a belief exists, cannot be denied ; that 
 It is a false belief, an unfounded conviction, ought not to 
 be lightly asserted. It wars too much, as even a slight ex- 
 amination would suffice to show, wdth the sentiments of 
 man's moral and religious constitution. 
 
 It is to be acknowledged with gratitude, that the 
 great mass of mankind fully believe in the existence of 
 
112 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 the Deity, a being of perfect truth as well as benevolence. 
 But to create man so that he should be irresistibly led to 
 believe in tKe existence of a material world, when it did 
 not exist, to create him with high capacities of thought, 
 feeling, and action, and then to surround him with mere 
 illusive and imaginary appearances, does not agree with 
 that notion of God, which we are wont to entertain. Mr. 
 Stewart, in speaking of the metaphysical inquiries of 
 Des Cartes, observes, that his reasonings led him to con- 
 clude, that God cannot possibly be supposed to deceive 
 his creatures ; and, therefore, that the intimations of our 
 senses and the decisions of our reason are to be trusted to 
 with entire confidence, wherever they afford us clear and 
 distinct ideas of their respective objects. 
 
 In the second place, it will undoubtedly be admitted 
 that the sensations, which have been spoken of, have an 
 existence. This existence is wholly internal ; but still the 
 simple fact remains that they exist ; our consciousness 
 most decisively teaches us so. But it has been laid down 
 as a primary truth, a first principle, that there is no be- 
 ginning or change of existence without a cause. This is 
 an elementary principle, placed as far above all objection 
 and scepticism as any one can be, and eminently prelimi- 
 nary to the full exercise of reasoning. 
 
 And where then is the cause of these internal effects .'* 
 What man, who denies the existence of the material 
 world, is able to indicate the origin of these results ? If, 
 yielding to the suggestions of our nature and the requi- 
 sitions of our belief, we seek for a cause external to our- 
 selves, we find a satisfactory explanation ; otherwise we 
 may expect to find none of any kind. 
 
 §. 84. The senses as much grounds of belief as other parts 
 ' of our constitution. 
 
 Furthermore, it must be admitted, as has already been 
 particularly stated and shown, that there are certain orig- 
 inal sources or grounds of belief in our constitution. To 
 say otherwise would be to loosen and destroy the founda- 
 tion of all knowledge, whether that knowledge concern- 
 
(U) 'Vl\K SENSKS. 113 
 
 ed iiKittor or mind. But what evidence is there, that 
 there are such original sources of belief, or that any one 
 thino- iu particular is the foundation of such belief more 
 than any other thing ? The answer is our own internal 
 consciousness and conviction, and this merely ; we are 
 conscious of belief, and are able to trace it to the occasions 
 which give it rise. 
 
 Now if we carefully examine our minds, we shall find, 
 that the intimations from the senses as effectually cause 
 belief, as any other source of evidence whatever. Our 
 consciousness, our internal conviction tells us that our 
 belief is as decisively regulated by the perceptions, dijri- 
 ved through the senses, as by our intuitive or inductive 
 perceptions; and that they are as much a ground of knowl- 
 edoe. We assert this with confidence ; therefore, if the 
 senses are not a ground of belief and knowledge, the 
 way is fairly open for unlimited scepticism on all subjects. 
 It will in tills case be impossible to fix upon any thing 
 w^hatever, which is to be received as evidence, and men must 
 give up all knowledge of intellect as well as matter, and 
 will be at once released from all moral obligation. 
 
 , §. 85. Opinicns of Locke on the testimony of the senses. 
 
 As the satisfactory understan. ling of this subject' is of 
 much practical importance, we shall clo.^e what has been 
 said upon it by some passages from Locke, Avhose clearness 
 of apprehension never fails him, and w'ho has the advan- 
 tage of [)roposing his opiniOi.s in a diction, though some- 
 what antiquated, yet free, plain, and energetic, — ''If af- 
 ter all this, (he says in the Fourth Book of his Essay,) 
 any one will be so skeptical as to distrust his senses, and 
 to affirm that all we see and hear, feel and taste, think 
 and do, during our v/hole being, is but the series and de- 
 luding appearances of a long dream, whereof there is no 
 reality ; and therefore will cjuestion the existence of all 
 things, or our knowledge of any tiling ; I most desire 
 him to consider, that, if all be a dream, then he doth but 
 dream that he makes the rpiestion ; and so it is not much 
 matter that a v^aking man should answer liim. But yet, 
 15 
 
114 LAWS OF BELIEF. (II) THE SENSES. 
 
 if he pleases, he may dream that I make him this answer, 
 that the certainty of things existing in rermn nalura^ when 
 we have the testimony of our senses for it, is not only as 
 great as our frame can attain to, but as our condition 
 needs. For our faculties being suited not to tlie full ex- 
 tent of being, nor to a perfect, clear, comprehensive 
 knowledge of things, free from all doubt and scruple ; 
 but to the preservation of us, in whom they are, and ac- 
 commodated to the use of life ; they serve to our pur- 
 pose well enough, if they will but give us certain notice 
 of those things which are convenient or inconvenient to 
 us. For he that sees a candle burning, and hath experi- 
 mented the force of its flame, by putting his finger in it, 
 will little doubt that this is something existing without 
 him, which does him harm, and puts him to great pain ; 
 which is assurance enough, when no man requires greater 
 certainty to govern his actions by than what is as certain 
 as his actions themselves. And if our dreamer pleases to 
 try whether the glowing heat of a glass furnace be barely 
 a wandering imagination in a drowsy man's fancy ; by put- 
 ting his hand into it he may perhaps be wakened into a 
 certainty greater than he could wish, that it is something 
 more than bare imagination. So that this evidence is as 
 great.as we can desire, being as certain to us as our pleas- 
 ure or pain, i. e. happiness or misery ; beyond which we 
 have no concernment, either of knowing or being. Such 
 an assurance of the existence of things without us is sufii- 
 cient to direct us in the attaining the good, and avoid- 
 ing the evil, which is caused by them ; which is the im- 
 portant concernment we have of being made acquainted 
 with them." 
 
CHAPTER SIXTH. 
 
 Laws OF BELIEF. (Ill) TESTIMONY. 
 
 §.S6. Of tesUmoiiy and the general fact of its influencing 
 
 belief 
 
 We shall next consider human testimony. By this 
 is commonly meant the report of men concerning what 
 has fallen under their personal observation. And this 
 forms a third law or ground of Belief. 
 
 As to the fact, that men readily receive the testimony 
 of their fellow beings, and that such testimony influences 
 their belief and conduct, it cannot be denied. If a person 
 should seriously deny the truth of a well attested state- 
 ment in history, or question the well attested existence of 
 a distant nation or city, merely because the evidence hap- 
 pened to be that of human testimony, it would be thought 
 truly strange and unaccountable. 
 
 And surely if it were otherwise, if there were not this 
 prompt and confiding reliance on testimony, a state of 
 things would be presented very different from what actu- 
 ally exists. Without a general confidence in what men 
 assert, every one's knowledge of events and facts would 
 be limited to those only, of which he himself had been 
 a personal witness. In this case no American, who 
 had not been a traveller, could believe, that there is 
 such a city as London ; and no Englishman in a like 
 situation could believe, that there is such a city as 
 Rome ; and no person whatever has any ground for be- 
 
LAWS OF BELIEF. HG 
 
 lieviiio", that sue!), men as Hamiibai and Caesar liave ever 
 existed. 
 
 With the great mass of mankind the exclusion of tes- 
 timony as a ground of belief would be the means of de- 
 priving them of the greater part of what they now know. 
 The vast world would be only what they themselves see, 
 an oRBis TERRARUM, bouuded by the narrow range of 
 their native hills ; the renowned men and deeds of the 
 world would be summed up in "the persons and acts of 
 the private circle of their acquaintances ; myriads of hu- 
 man beings, tribes and nations of men, uncounted abodes 
 of life and numberless works of genius would virtually 
 pass away and be lost. Their condition would be less fa- 
 vourable than that of Virgil's shepherd, who believed in 
 the existence of the Imperial City, the reports of which 
 had reached him in his solitudes, and only mistook in 
 comparing great things with small, and in supposing it to 
 be like those humble villages of Mantua, where he had 
 tended his flocks. 
 
 §. 87. Of the various explanations! of the origin of confi- 
 dence in testimony. 
 
 Admitting the fact, that men place great confidence in 
 testimony, and that without such confidence one principal 
 source of knowledge would be shut up, a question never- 
 theless arises here, What is the ground of this reliance ? 
 In some points of view this inquiry is probably of less 
 importance than the mere question of the fact ; still the 
 subject cannot be wholly neglected, consistently with the 
 desire of.giving a succinct viev/ at least of the mind in all 
 its parts. 
 
 It is j)roper to remark first, however, that the credence 
 or reliance in question exhibits itself at a date earlier than 
 any period our recollection goes back to ; and, therefore, 
 it is impossible to explain the grounds of it with abso- 
 lute certainty. That provision has in some way been 
 made for a belief in the declarations of our fellow beings, 
 >s a fact ; and that it takes elFect very early in life, is a fact 
 
(lli) TESTIMONY. 117 
 
 also ; but further than this; we can only offer explanations 
 more or less probable. 
 
 Having made this remark, we are prepared to observe, 
 that a number of explanations, as might be expected, and 
 differing more or less from each other^ have been given. 
 One is, that credence in testimony is natural or constitu- 
 tional ; in other words is an elementary and original ten- 
 dency of our being. The advocates of this opinion main- 
 tain, that the very nature of our mental constitution, in- 
 dependently of the suggestions of reasoning and experi- 
 ence, leads us to believe what men assert. We are so con- 
 stituted, that the very first sound of the human voice, 
 which reaches ns, calls into action a disposition on our 
 part to admit the truth of whatever intelligence it con- 
 veys. 
 
 In support of this view, which has in its favor the- 
 names of Reid and Campbell among others, reference i& 
 made to what we observe in children. In the earliest pe- 
 riod of life, as soon as the first gleams of intelligence are. 
 visible, they look with hope and fondness to those, who, 
 support them ; there seems to be no doubt, no suspicion, 
 no want of confidence. This strong reliance discovers 
 itself from time to time, as they advance towards youth ; 
 and, in the whole of the early part of oiir existence, is so 
 distinct, strong, and operative, that men have given to it 
 a specific name, in order to distinguish it from the more 
 chastened credence of riper years. We speak of the cau- 
 tion and the convictions of ;iianhood, and of the simplicity 
 and CREDULITY of children. 
 
 It is further contended, that the principle of a natural 
 reliance on the declarations of our fellow beings is invol- 
 ved in, and is indispensable to the propensity, v/hich all 
 philosophers admit man to have for society. This pro- 
 pensity will not be passed by without remark at some fu- 
 ture time. It will suffice to observe here, that man is 
 born in society, and is never out of it ; society is his ele- 
 ment ; and a state of nature in the literal sense of the 
 terms is only imaginary. When we thihk, therefore, of 
 the wise Being, from whom man comes^ and who cannot 
 
IIS LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 be supposed to have placed him in his present situation 
 without foresight and intention, we naturally conclude, 
 that he is, and ever was designed for society, and that he 
 is made meet for his destination. 
 
 But what is implied in a meetness for living together ? 
 What is requisite to preserve the bond, that binds in one 
 families, and neighbourhoods, and states ? . Among other 
 things, very evidently the principle in question ; a confi- 
 dence in men, a reliance on their statements. 
 
 §. 88. Connection of a reliance on testimony with a disposi- 
 tion to utter the truth. 
 
 Another explanation of the origin of the principle of 
 credence, and somewhat different, has been given. The 
 train of thought is this. — It requii'es but a little examina- 
 tion of ourselves to become satisfied, that it is according 
 to the nature of men to speak the truth. Every person 
 must be supposed to feel, that lying is not accordant with 
 the original principles of his being ; that every falsehood 
 he tells degrades and diminishes him in his own eyes ; 
 that truth is the natural and appropriate result of the mind. 
 This conviction is one of the earliest we have ? but there 
 is another not less early, and perhaps still more so in its 
 origin, viz. our belief in the uniformity of the laws of 
 nature. 
 
 Combining these two together, we are able to gener- 
 alize, as it were, our own character. Sustained by the 
 primary truth which has just been referred to, we are led 
 to conclude, that what is humanity in ourselves is human 
 nature in all, in whom we perceive the same outward like- 
 ness ; in other words we promptly and unfailingly recog- 
 nize in our own love of veracity a distinctive feature in 
 the mental character of our fellow beings. Under these 
 circumstances a reliance on human testimony is unavoida- 
 ble. And it may be added, that this reliance, supposing 
 it to have the origin, which has now been stated, exists 
 and operates at a period so early as to answer all the pur- 
 poses requisite in" the forming and support of society. 
 
(Ill) TESTIMONY. 119 
 
 §.89. This reliance greatly confirmed by experience. 
 
 Others again ascribe the origin of the credence, which 
 we give to testimony, to experience ; that is to say, to our 
 observation of a conformity in the reports of men to the 
 facts alledged by them. Men make assertions ; we find them 
 to be true, and in this way we learn or acquire a confidence. 
 But the difficulty is in reconciling this explanation with 
 the very early period of life, in which the cre'dence in 
 question is known, in a greater or less degree, to manifest 
 itself. 
 
 But whether this explanation of the origin of our 
 reliance on testimony be admissible or not ; it is certain, 
 that experience or observation has much to do in strength- 
 ening it. At a period further back than we can now re- 
 member, we heard declarations, which our experience but 
 seldom, and perhaps never found to be untrue. The truth 
 was poured into our ears by the voice of affection ; it be- 
 came associated with parental love ; as we look back we 
 find it interwoven with all our earliest recollections, and 
 inseparable from whatever we enjoyed, honoured, and 
 reverenced. • 
 
 If, therefore, r;iliance on men's testimony be truly a 
 plant, naturally springing up in the soil of the human 
 heart, it will be found to be nourished and sustained not 
 only bv experience, but by the influence of the most sa- 
 cred remembrances. 
 
 §. £0. Objections to our reliance on testimony. 
 
 After all it may be inquired, whatever may be the 
 fact of our reliance on testimony or of the origin of the 
 same, whether this reliance be justly and properly placed.'' 
 And in support of this inquiry, it may no doubt be assert- 
 ed as an undeniable fact, that we are liable to be led into 
 mistakes by the statements of our fellow men. This ob- 
 jection to the views, which have been given, merits some 
 attention ; and the answer to it may be summed up in two 
 particulars. 
 
 Fir:-;t : the proportion of cases of deception, com- 
 
120 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 pared with those where we are not deceived, is very 
 small. Few persons are perhaps fully aware, to what ex- 
 tent, and in what numberless instances we rely upon the 
 inform.ation and the assertions of others. " Every hour 
 of our lives, (says Dr. Paley, Moral Philos. Bk. III. ch. 
 V.) we trust to, and depend upon others; and it is im- 
 possible to stir a step, or, what is worse, to sit still a mo- 
 ment, without such trust and dependence. I am now 
 writing at my ease, not doubting, (or rather never dis- 
 trusting, and therefore, never thinking about it,) but that 
 the butcher v/ill send in the joint of meat, which I order- 
 ed ; that his servant will bring it, that my cook will dress 
 it; that my footman will serve it up; and that I shall 
 find it upon the table at one o'clock. Yet have I nothing 
 for all this but the promise of the butcher, and the implied 
 promise of his servant and mine. And the same holds of 
 the most important, as well as the most familiar occurren- 
 ces of social life." 
 
 But are vvc WTong in relying on the declarations^ both 
 implied and express, in such cases as this, and in others 
 similar ? Certainly not. We may be deceived and dis- 
 appointed sometimes, but not often, in comparison with 
 the whole number of cases where v/e place reliance. 
 Men are naturally disposed to speak tlie truth ; it is much 
 easier than to speak what is not true, for truth is at hand, 
 but the practice of prevarication and mis-statement re- 
 quires labour, and invention, besides conflicting with the 
 general estimate of human character, and jarring violent- 
 ly upon every honourable sentiment within us. So capa- 
 ble is this view of being sustained, that even those men, 
 who have brought upon themselves the infamy of being 
 considered liars, probably utter the truth an hundred 
 times, where they utter a falsehood once. 
 
 §. 91 . Further remarks on this objection. 
 
 Second ; Admitting, that wc are liable to be led astray 
 by means of testimony, still it is in our power, and is our 
 duty to take suitable precautions against this liability, as 
 in other cases. The eirours, into which we are some- 
 
(Ill) TESTIMONY. 121 
 
 times led from tins source, are analagous to those, into 
 which wc are sometimes betrayed by means of the senses, 
 and which, as they were found to be owing more to our 
 own carelessness and haste than any thing else, were not 
 thought sufficient to reject the senses from being consider- 
 ed grounds of belief and knowledge. In neither case are 
 we exposed to errours without the means of guarding 
 against them ; and in respect to human testimony in par- 
 ticular we are by no means required to place implicit 
 confidence in it, without a regard to the circumstances 
 under which it is given, and the character and opportuni- 
 ties of the person who gives it. Every one knows, that 
 there are in himself tendencies and principles, which, in 
 certain circumstances^ may be brought in conflict with 
 the more ennobling principle of truth ; and that he is li- 
 able to errour, even when he supposes himself to be seek- 
 ing the truth, from the mere want of labor and care. 
 And we may make use of this experience in judging of 
 the testimony of others, since we may reasonably suspect 
 in them the existence of similar tendencies, and similar 
 want of circumspection. It is, therefore, consistent with 
 any suitable degree'of reliance on testimony to satisfy our- 
 selves, whether the pei^son, who testifies, possessed ample 
 means of information ; whether he made use of those 
 means ; and whether he may not* be under the influence 
 of interest or passion. 
 
 U 
 
CHAPTER SEVEiNTH, 
 
 LAWS OF BELIEF. (iV) MEMORY. 
 
 §. 92. ^11 men place a reliance on memory. 
 
 In addition to the grounds of belief, which are to be 
 found in consciousness, the senses, and testimony, we find 
 another original occasion or law of the same in the Memo- 
 ry. — In our goings from place to place, and from one 
 scene of action to another, in our meetings and conversa- 
 tions with men, ard in our multiplied labours and relaxa- 
 tions, joys and sufferings, we see , and iiear and do what 
 will perhaps afterwards never come within the range of 
 our experience. When we subsequently act upon what has 
 thus been once under the examination of the senses, or has 
 in any other way come within our direct personal experi- 
 ence, we indicate our reliance on the remembrance. The 
 thing itself has passed away ; but the remembrance of it 
 remains ; and with the remembrance an unwavering be- 
 lief, that the object of it once was. So far as we are con- 
 fident, that the original perceptions are correctly reported 
 in the remembrance, the latter controls our belief and ac- 
 tions not less certainly than those perceptions. 
 
 Says Dr. Beattie in some remarks on this subject, "The 
 evidence of memory commands our belief as effectually as 
 the evideiv^e of sense. I cannot possibly doubt, with re- 
 gard to any of my transactions of yesterday which I now 
 remember, whether I performed them or not. That I din- 
 ed to day, and was in bed last night, is as certain to me, 
 
LAWS OF BELIEF. ([V) MEMOUY. 123 
 
 as that I at present see the colour of this paper. If' we 
 had no memory, knowledge and experience would be 
 impossible ; and if we had any tendency to distrust our 
 memory, knowledge and experience would be of as little 
 use in directing our conduct and sentiments, as our dreams 
 now are. Sometimes we doubt, whether in a particular 
 case we exert memory or imagination ; and our belief is 
 suspended accordingly: but no sooner do we become 
 conscious, that w^e remember, than conviction instantly 
 takes place ; we say, I am certain it was so, for now I re- 
 member I was an eye witne ;s. '"* 
 
 §. 9 3. Limitations of our reliance on memory. 
 
 It will be observed, that there is an express limitation 
 of this general view in the remarks of the foregoing 
 section. It is only when we have no reason to doubt 
 of our original experiences being correctly reported in 
 the remembrances,that our reliance on them is of the 
 highest kind. It is the same here as in respect to the sen- 
 ses and testimony ; we confidently rely on the memory, 
 but are not exempt from some degree of exposure to er- 
 rour from it ; although as in those cases, it is an expo- 
 sure, which we are able to guard against with suitable 
 care and pains. 
 
 In what way, and in what particulars this caution and 
 pains are to be exerted, it is not necessary minutely to detail 
 here. One thing, however, seems to be in general certain, 
 that we are not led into errour by means of the memory 
 ignorantly, and without the ability to guard against it. 
 Every man knows from a species of internal feeling, or 
 at least is able to satisfy himself in some way, whether 
 there be grounds for doubting his memory in any par- 
 ticular case or not. If it bie the fact that he finds reason 
 for suspecting its reports, his reliance will either be di- 
 minished in proportion to this suspicion, or he will take 
 means, if he be able to, to remove the grounds of such 
 suspicion. 
 
 •*Beattie^s Essay on Truth, Pt. I, Ch. II, §. 4. 
 
124 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 It cannot reasonably be anticipated, that any objection 
 will be made to the doctrine of a reliance on memory, 
 with the limitation which has now been mentioned. 
 Without such reliance, our situation would be no better 
 at least, than if we had been framed with an utter inabili- 
 ty to rely on Testimony ; we could hardly sustain an ex- 
 istence ; we certainly could not derive any thing in aid of 
 that existence from the experience of the past. 
 
 §. 94. Origin oj merCs reliance on memory. 
 
 There remains, however, another inquiry. What is 
 the^origin of this confident reliance ? What are the grounds 
 of it? And the reply here is, as in many other cases ; it 
 is our nature, our mental constitution, the will and ordi- 
 nance of the Being who created us. Whatever maybe 
 said on the subject, there must be, and there are certain 
 .original grounds, certain fundamental laws of belief, 
 which, in every analysis of our knowledge, are fixed and 
 permanent boundaries, beyond which we cannot proceed. 
 And reliance on memory is one of them. 
 
 It cannot be said of this reliance, that it depends on 
 experience, for the simple reason, that we cannot reason 
 from experience, without first implying, and resorting to 
 confidence in memory. The assumption of memory as a 
 ground and law of belief is necessarily antecedent to all 
 deduction. Nothing remains, therefore, but to repeat, 
 that reliance on memory is a law of our nature, an ulti- 
 mate principle and tendency of our mental being. 
 
 §. 95. Memory the occasion of belief farther than lohat is 
 actually remembered. 
 
 'There remains, however, a remark, relating to anoth- 
 ,,€r topic connected with the memory, which is worthy of 
 some attention, viz. That memory is an indirect ground 
 of belief farther than what is actually remembered. If 
 this remark be not obvious at first, it may be made so by 
 .some brief considerations. 
 
 Whatever may be the cause of it, it is very well known 
 ithat a great portion of our knowledge exists in the shape 
 
(IV) MEMORY. 125 
 
 of general principles. To these principles we were orig- 
 inally led by trains of thought more or less long and in- 
 tricate. But as in these trains of thought it was the re- 
 sults of them we chiefly sought after, it naturally happen- 
 ed, that the antecedent reflections and arguments were 
 soon forgotten ; and the conclusions only or general prin- 
 ciples remained. It is the fact, however, that when we 
 recal such general truths as control our belief and convic- 
 tion, we at the same time believe, that facts and arguments, 
 having a definite relation to these results, formerly exists 
 ed, and were contemplated by the mind, although they 
 have now irretrievably faded from our recollection. 
 
 For instance, in demonstrative reasoning, a man has 
 proved to his entire conviction and satisfaction, that the 
 three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles ; 
 or in moral reasoning, has proved to equal satisfaction, 
 that it is the duty of men to fulfil their promises. In 
 these and similar cases, he subsequently not only relies on 
 the remembrance of his having experienced a deep con- 
 viction of the general truth at a particular time, but the 
 remembered conviction is the occasion of originating in 
 him a firm reliance on what he does not remember, 
 viz, on facts, comparisons, and arguments, which are now 
 known to the mind only by the abstract conception of their 
 antecedent existence, and of their suitableness, what- 
 sever they might have been, to produce such conviction. 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTH. 
 
 LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 (V) RELATIVE SUGGESTION AND REASONING. 
 
 §. 96. Meaning of Relative Suggestion and its connection 
 with belief. 
 
 Another ground or law of belief of such a nature, 
 as to be entitled to a distinct consideration, is relative 
 SUGGESTION. By this phrase, which has of late received 
 a definite application in Mental Philosophy, is expressed 
 the power or susceptibility, by means of which we per- 
 ceive the relations of objects. What relations them- 
 selves are, it is unnecessary to attempt to define ; no mere 
 form of words can render the conception of them clear- 
 er to any person's comprehension, than it is already sup- 
 posed to be. All, that needs be asserted, is the mere 
 statement of the fact, that, when the mind contemplates 
 two or more objects, we naturally put forth other per- 
 ceptions or feelings ; we cannot avoid doing it. For in- 
 stance, we feel or perceive such objects to be the same or 
 different, like or unlike, equal or unequal, cause or effect, 
 whole or part, attribute or subject, &c. 
 
 These new feeling's, as well as the direct perceptions 
 of the objects, to which they relate, are occasions of be- 
 lief. We not only believe the existence of the feelings 
 themselves, but find ourselves unable to resist and exclude 
 the belief of the actual existence and truth of that, to 
 which they correspond. To employ a phraseology, which 
 
LAWS OF BELIEF. 127 
 
 seems to be coming into use, we believe in the objective 
 reality of relations as well as in the subjective feelings, 
 which interpret their existence and character to the mind. 
 The relations of things, it is true, are not objects, direct- 
 ly addressed to the external senses ; as we cannot directly 
 see them, nor hear them, nor feel them, they seem com- 
 paratively obscure ; and yet we are so constituted, that 
 the cognizance of them is utterly inseparable from those 
 perceptions, which we have both by means of the senses, 
 and in any other way ; they are perceivable by the mind, 
 and are undoubtedly, in some important sense, real sub- 
 jects of contemplation and knowledge. It is in this 
 
 way, that relative suggestion, the name of the suscep- 
 til^ility, by means of which we become acquainted with 
 relations, is a law of belief. 
 
 §. 97. Classes of relations and intuitive perceptions 
 
 oj relation. 
 
 The relations, which we are able to discover on a care- 
 ful contemplation of objects, are almost innumerable, but 
 attempts have been made, multiplied as they are, to re- 
 duce thQm to certain classes ; for instance, to the general 
 classes of Coexistence and Succession, and these again 
 to the subordinate classes of position, resemblance or differ- 
 ence, degree, proportion, and the like. 
 
 But it is^not necessary to enter into that inquiry here 
 any further than to say, that some relations are more 
 readily perceived than others. The mind may hesitate, 
 in some cases, in perceiving or feeling the relation of cause 
 and effect, of proportion, cf subject and attribute j but 
 this is not the case in general with those of agreement or 
 disaorreement, similitude or dissimilitude. The mind is so 
 prompt in perceiving these relations, in ascertaining the 
 •agreement or difference, the identity or diversity of ob- 
 jects, that its perceptions in such cases are frequently dis- 
 tinguished by a distinctive-name, and are termed intui- 
 tive. There is no delay, no perplexity in perceiving, that 
 red is not white, or that a square is not a circle, but the 
 mind has a knowledge of the relations here at once, and 
 
12S LAWS OF BELIEF. 
 
 without the intervention and help of any other ideas. 
 
 Mr. Locke happily remarks in respect to perceptions of 
 
 this sort, that like bright sunshine they force themselves 
 
 immediately to be perceived, as soon as ever the mind 
 
 turns its vievi^ in the direction of them, and leave no room 
 
 for hesitation and doubt. 
 
 . * 
 
 ^. 98. Of the intuitive perceptions called axioms. 
 
 It is proper to remark here, that certain intuitive per- 
 ceptions, when without reference to particular cases they 
 are considered in the abstract, and are embodied in words, 
 are termed axioms ; such as The whole is greater than a 
 part ; Things equal to the same are equal to one anoth- 
 er ; From equals take away equals, and the remainders 
 are equal. 
 
 It must be evident to every one, that if the mind had 
 been so constituted as to be incapable of putting forth the 
 feelings implied in axioms, there could have been no math- 
 emalical deduction and demonstration. It is the power of 
 Relative Suggestion, exerted in originating these intuitive 
 perceptions, which enables the mind in the abstract sci- 
 ences to go on from step to step, till it arrives at last at the 
 most remote and difficult conclusions. 
 
 §. 99. Of reasoning as a ground oj belief . 
 
 What has just been said leads us to remark further ij^ 
 general terms, that all Reasoning, both Moral and Demon- 
 strative, and in whatever form it exists, is a law of belief. 
 But it is proper to observe, by way of explaining the in- 
 troduction of this subject in this particular connection, 
 that every train of reasoning implies, and involves a se- 
 ries of felt or perceived relations. These, feelings of rela- 
 tion may be regarded as the links, which bind together 
 such separate perceptions, facts, or truths, as come with- 
 in the range of the subject reasoned upon, and without 
 which they would inevitably remain in their original 
 state of insulated and unavailable propositions. Truth is 
 added to truth, feeling arises successive to feeling, until we 
 arrive at the conclusion, which invariably fixes our belief 
 
(V) RELATIVE SUGGESTION AND REASONING. 129 
 
 The conclusion is properly a mere feeling of relation ; but 
 it is one, wiiich could not have existed without the pre- 
 ceding steps, without a succession of propositions; and 
 in that point of view, Reasoning may properly be consid- 
 ered a ground of belief, distinct from Relative Sugges- 
 tion. 
 
 When, however, we assert, that the conclusions, dedu- 
 ced from a process of reasoning, invariably influence our 
 belief, we should partictdarly keep in mind heie^ that be- 
 lief m:iy exiit in very various degrees. When the suc- 
 cessive feelings, which we have in a train of reasoning, 
 are all intuitive, and the propositions, with which we 
 commenced, were certain, or weie assun ed as such, be- 
 lief is of course of the higliest kind. And this is always 
 the case in deinonstratioiis ; for there we always begin 
 eitlier with kr.own or assumed truths, and as the proposi- 
 tions compared together are entirely abstract, there seems 
 to be no room ^(xv doubt or mistake. But in moral rea- 
 soning, although the mental process is the same, the con- 
 clusion is not necessarily true ; the propositions contem- 
 plated are in general of a different < haracter from what 
 we find in demonstrative reasoning ; and the conclu- 
 sion will vary from mere presumption to absolute cer- 
 tainty according to the nature of tiie facts laid before the 
 mind. 
 
 §. 100. Evidence that men confide in the results of reasoning. 
 
 But is it a fact, that Reasoning necessarily controls our 
 convictions in any case .'' What evidence is there, that 
 our belief, in a greater or less degree, is naturally dej)end- 
 ent on its conclusions.^ — If we can suppose such a que.'^tion 
 to be seriously put, a prompt and satisfactory answer is to 
 be found in the general, and in individual experience. No 
 man has it in his power to refuse obedience to the deci- 
 sions of reasoning ; nor does he ever do it, except from 
 an inability to embrace at once, and to balance the succes- 
 sive steps of the process. On this point it is useless to de- 
 lay ; a few words will be enough. 
 
 If this principle^ that reason is liaturally £tted tx) cause 
 IT 
 
130 LAWS OF BELIEF. (V) REASONING. 
 
 and control belief, be not true, we may sit down and 
 read Euclid's Elements and Newton's Principia, and after 
 all reject every conclusion, to which they come ; we may 
 study the profound orations of the great ancient orators, 
 and still entertain the idea, that Philip's character was 
 not dangerous to Greece, nor that of Cataline to the Ro- 
 man republic; we may read the speeches of the classic 
 names of the British Parliament, without a recognition of 
 the base and iniquitous abomination of the Slave trade ; 
 in a word vv^e shall act rightfully and consistently in defa- 
 cing the diagrams of mathematicians, in destroying the 
 charters of scientific corporations, in shutting the halls 
 of justice, and in disbanding the legislative as>embly. 
 
 Independently of the consequent belief, the power of rea- 
 soning loses its value, and is gone forever: Where there 
 is no reasoning, there is of course no deliberation, no 
 eloquence, no knowledge of any kind, except what is di- 
 rectly and intuitively possessed. 
 
CHAPTER NINTH. 
 
 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION, (i) PRIMARY L.\WS. 
 
 ^. 1 01. Meaning of association and extent of its appli- 
 cations. 
 
 Our thoughts and feelings follow each other in a 
 regular train. Of this statement no one «eecls any other 
 proof, than his individual experience. We all know, not 
 only that our minds are susceptible of new states, but 
 what is more, that this capability of new states is not for- 
 tuitous, but has its laws. Therefore, we not only say, 
 that our thoughts and feelings succeed each other, but 
 that this antecedence and sequence is in a regular train. 
 To this regular and established consecution of the states 
 of the mind we give the name of mental association. 
 
 And it is proper to suggest here, that this part of our 
 constitution is worthy of the most attentive consideration. 
 Although at present all we have to cfo is to consider its 
 general nature and its laws, many portions of our subse- 
 quent inquiries will help to illustrate its particular appli- 
 cations, its extent, and power. It exerts its influence on 
 almost every thought ; it binds its efficacy on almost eve- 
 ry emotion. Whatever the time or place, the period of 
 life, the allotment of rank or degradation, of joy or suf- 
 fering, of sad solitude or bustling notoriety, it makes no. 
 difference; it never fails to found its empire, and to put 
 forth its supremacy, v/herever there is an intellect to con- 
 template, and a heart to feel. "When I was travelling 
 
182 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION 
 
 through the wilds of America, (says the eloquent Chat- 
 eaubriand,) I was not a little surprized to hear, thnt I had 
 a countryman established as a resident, at &ome distance in 
 the woods. I visited hiin with eagerrjcss, and found him 
 employed in pointing some stakes at the door of his hut. 
 He cast a look towards me which was cold enough, and 
 continued his work, but the moment I addressed him in 
 French, he started at tlie recollection of hi.^ country, and 
 the big tear stood in his eye. These well known accents 
 suddenly roused in the heart of the old rnan, all the sen- 
 sations of his infancy. In youth we little regret the 
 pleasures of our first years ; but the further we advance 
 into life the more interesting to us becomes the recollec- 
 tion of them ; for then every one of our days presents a 
 sad subject of comparison."* 
 
 § . 102. Of the term ^Association and its general laws . 
 
 The term, association, is perhaps preferable to any 
 other. It may, with no little appearauce of reason, be 
 objected to the word, suggestion, which has sometimes 
 been employed, that it seems to imj)ly a positive power 
 or efficiency of the precedi g state of the mind in produc- 
 ing the subsequent. But of the existence of such an efH- 
 ciency we have no evidence. All that we know is the 
 fact, that our thoughts and feelings, under certain circum- 
 stances. aj)pear together and keep each other com})any ; — 
 And this is what is understood to be expressed, and is all, 
 jthat is expressed, by the lerm association. 
 
 By the Laws of association, we mean no other than the 
 general designation of those circumstances, under which 
 the regular consecution of mental states, which has been 
 mentioned, occurs. The following may be mentioned as 
 iimong the prim-ary, or more important of those laws, al- 
 though it is not necessary to take upon us to assert cither 
 that the enumeration is cofiiplete, or that some better ar- 
 rangement of them might not be proposed, viz., resem- 
 blance, contrast, contiguity in time and place, and 
 ,CAUSE and effect. 
 , * Chateaubria^id's recollections of Iialy, England, and America. 
 
(I) PRIMARY LAWS. 1S3 
 
 §, 103. Resemblance Ihe first general law of associaticn. 
 
 New trains of ideas and new emotions are occasioned 
 by resem!)lance ; but when we say, that they are occa- 
 sioned in this way, all that is meant is, that there is a new 
 state of mind, immediately subsequent to tiie perception 
 of tlie resembling object. Of the efficient cause of this 
 new state of mind under these circumstances, we can only 
 say, the Creitor of the soul has seen fit to appoint this 
 coimeclion iii its operations, without our being able, or 
 deeming it necesssaryto give any further explanation. A 
 traveller, wandering in a foreign land, finds himself in the 
 course of his sojournings in the mid^t of aspects of na- 
 ture not unlike those, where he has formerly resided, and 
 the fact of this resemblance becomes the antecedent to 
 new states of mind. There is distinctly brought before 
 him the scenery, which he has left, his own woods, his 
 
 waters, and his home. Tiie em})eror Napoleon, who^-e 
 
 present cares might be supposed to have broken the chain 
 of tliought and feeling, that bound him to the past, is 
 said to hive once expressed himself thus. " List Sunday 
 evening, in the general silence of nature, I was walking in 
 these grounds, {of M.dmaism.) The soun.l of the church- 
 bell of Rael fell upon my ear, and renewed all the im- 
 pressions of my youth. I was profoundly afFected, such 
 is the po ver of early associations and habit ; and I con- 
 sidered, if such was the case with me, what must be the 
 effect of such recollections upon the more simple and cred- 
 ulous vulgar ,?"* 
 
 The result is the sanie in any other case, whenever 
 there is a resemblance between what we now experience, 
 and what we have previously experienced. We have 
 been acquainted, for instance, at some former period with 
 a person, whose features appeared to us to possess some 
 peculiarity, a breadth and openness of the foreliead, an un- 
 common expression of the eye, or some other striking mark; 
 — to day we meet a stranger in the crowd, by which 
 we are surrounded, whose features are of a somewhat 
 
 ♦Scott's Life of Napoleon, vol. iii. ch. xxsiv. 
 
134 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 similar cast, and the resemblance at once vividly suggests 
 the likeness of our old acquaintance. 
 
 •§ 104. Resemblance in every particular not necessary. 
 
 It is not necessary, that the RESEMBLANCE should be 
 complete in every particular, in order to its being a prin- 
 ciple or law of association. It so happens, (to use an illus- 
 tration of Brown,*) that we see a painted portrait of a fe- 
 male countenance, which is adorned with a ruff of a pecu- 
 liar breadth and display ; and we are, in consequence, im- 
 mediately reminded of queen Elizabeth. Not because 
 there is any resemblance between the features before us 
 and those of the English sovereign, but because in all the 
 painted representations, which we have seen of her, she is 
 uniformly set oif with this peculiarity of dress, with a rnff 
 like that, which we now see. Here the resemblance be- 
 tween the suggesting thing and that, which is suggested, 
 is. not a complete resemblance, does not exist in all the 
 particulars, in which they may be compared together, but 
 is limited to apart of the dress. 
 
 That a single resembling circumstance, (and perhaps 
 one of no great importance,) should so readily suggest the 
 complete conception of another object or scene, which is 
 made up of a great variety of parts, seems to admit of some 
 explanation in this way. We take, for example, an indi- 
 vidual ;— -the idea, which we form of the individual is a 
 complex one, made up of the forehead, eyes, lips, hair, 
 general figure, dress, &c. These separate, subordinate 
 ideas, when combined together and viewed as a whole, 
 have a near analogy to any of our ideas, which are com- 
 pounded, and are capable of being resolved into elements 
 more simple. When, therefore, we witness a ruff of a 
 size and decoration more than ordinary, we are at once 
 reminded of that ornament in the habiliments of the Bri- 
 tish queen ; and this on the ground of resemblance. — 
 But this article in the decorations of her person is the 
 foundation of only one part of a very complex state of 
 mind, which embraces the features and the general ap- 
 pearance. As there has been a long continued co-exist- 
 
 • Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, Lect. xxxv. 
 
(I) PRIMARY LAWS. 135 
 
 ence of those separate parts, which make up this com- 
 plex state, the recurrence to the mind of one part or of 
 one idea is necessarily attended with the recurrence of all 
 the others. They sustain the relation of near friends ; they 
 form a group, and do not easily and willingly admit of a 
 separation. The pririciple, which maintains in the rela- 
 tion of co-existence such states of the mind, as may be 
 considered as grouped together, is the same with that, 
 which so steadily and permanently combines the parts of 
 w^hat Mr. Locke calls mixed modes or other complex 
 ideaS; and is no less effectual in its operation. 
 
 §. i05. Of resemblance in the effects produced. 
 
 Resemblance operates, as an associating principle, not 
 only when there is a likeness or similarity in the things 
 themselves, but also when there is a resemblance in the 
 effects, which are produced upon the mind. 
 
 The ocean, when greatly agitated by the winds, and 
 threatening every moment to overwhelm us, produces in 
 the mind an emotion, similar to that, which is caused by 
 the presence of an angry man, who is able to do us harm. 
 And in consequence of this similarity in the effects produ- 
 ced, they reciprocally bring each other to our recollec- 
 tion. 
 
 Dark w'oods, hanging over the brow of a mountain, 
 cause in us a feeling of awe and wonder, like that, which 
 we feel, when we behold, approaching us, some aged per- 
 son, whose form is venerable for his years, and whose name 
 is renowned for wisdom and justice. It is in reference to 
 this view of the principle, on which we are remarking, that 
 the following comparison is introduced in Akenside's 
 Pleasures of the Imagination. 
 
 " Mark the sable woods, 
 
 " That shade sublime yon mountairx's nodding brow ; 
 
 " With what religious awe the solemn scene 
 
 '^ Commands your steps ! As if thexeverend form 
 
 " or Minos or of Numa should forsake 
 
 " The Elysian seats, and down the embowering glade 
 
 " Move to your pausing eye.-' 
 
 As we are so constituted, that ail nature produces in 
 
136 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 us certain effects, causes certain emotions, similar to those, 
 which are caused in us in our intercourse with our fellow- 
 beings, it so happens that, in virtue of this fact, the natur- 
 ral world becomes living, animated, cpeiative. The ocean 
 is in anger : i\ie sky smiles ; the dif[ frowns ; the aged 
 woods are v€i:erable ; the earth and its poductions are 
 no longer a dead mas-, but have an existence, a soul, an 
 agency. 
 
 We see here the foundation of metaphorical language ; 
 and it is here, that we are lo look for the principles, by 
 which we are to determine the propriety or impropriety of 
 its use. 
 
 In every metaphor there is some analogy or resem- 
 blance ; it is a comparison or iimile in its mos;t concise 
 form. There is an examination instituted; and circum- 
 stances of similitude are detected ; not however, by a 
 long and laborious process, but in a single w^ord. Hence 
 it is the language of strong emotion ; and as such, is pe- 
 culiarly the language of uncivilized nations, and, in gen- 
 eral of the most spirited parts of the poetry of those, 
 that are civilized. 
 
 §. 105. Contrast the second general or primary law. 
 
 Contrast is another law or principle, by which our 
 successive mental states are suggested ; or in other terms, 
 when there are two objects, or events, or situations of a 
 character precisely opposite, the idea or conception of 
 one is immediately followed by that of the other. When 
 the discourse is of the pa/ace of the king, how often are 
 we reminded, in the same breath, of the cottage of the pea- 
 sant ! And thus wealth and poverty, the cradle and the 
 gravCj hope and despair, are found in public speeches 
 and in declamations from the pulpit almost always going 
 together and keeping each other's company. The truth is, 
 they are connected together in our thoughts by a distinct 
 and operative principle ; they accompany each other, not 
 because there is any resemblance in the things thus associa- 
 ted, but in consequence of their very marked contrariety. 
 Darkness reminds of light, heat of cold, friendship of en- 
 
(I) PRIMARY LAWS. 137 
 
 mity ; the sight of the conqueror is associated with the 
 memory of the conquered, and wlien- beholding men of 
 deformed and dwarfish appearance, we are at once led to 
 tliink of tliose of erect figure or of Patagonian size. Con- 
 trast, then, is no less a principle or law of association, 
 than resemblance itself. 
 
 Those writers, who succeed in giving a natural delin- 
 eation of human action and suffering, furnish illustrations 
 of the operation of this principle. In one of those inter- 
 esting sketches, which acquaint us with the wants, captiv- 
 ities, and sufferings of tlie early settlers of this country, 
 there is the following instance of association by contrast. — 
 " As I lifted the unsavoury morsel, says the afEicted sub- 
 ject of the Narrative, with a trembling hand to my m-outh, 
 I cast my thoughts back a few days to a time, when from 
 a board plentifully spread in my own house, I ate my food 
 with a merry heart. The wooden spoon dropped from 
 my feeble grasp. The contrast was too affecting. " '-• 
 
 Scott remarks of certain unhappy Italians, who were 
 among the victims of Napoleon's dreadful retreat from 
 Russia, being overcome by extreme fatigue, exposure, 
 and the severity of the cold, that their thoughts, when 
 perishing so miserably, must have been on their own mild 
 climate and delicious country. 
 
 Count Lemaistre's touching story, entitled, from the 
 scene of its incidents, the lepkr o? Aost, illustrates the 
 effects of the principle of association now^ under consid- ' 
 eratioa. Like all persons infected with the leprosy, the 
 subject of the disease is represented as an object of dread 
 no less than of pity to others, and while he is an outcast 
 from the society of men, he is a loathsome spectacle even 
 to himself. But what is thee )ndition of his mind ^ What 
 are the subjects of his thoughts ? The tendencies of his 
 intellectual nature prevent his thinking of his wretchedness 
 alone. His extreme misery aggravates itself by suggest- 
 ing scenes of ideal happiness, and his mind revels in a 
 paradise of delights, merely to give greater intensity to 
 iiis actual woes by contrasting them with imaginary bliss, 
 
 * Narrative of the Captivity, &.c. of Mrs. Johnson. 
 IB 
 
138 tAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 — "I represent to myself continually (says the Leper) so- 
 cieties of sincere and virtuous friends ; families, blessed 
 with health, fortune, and harmony. I imagine, I see 
 them walk in groves, greener and fresher than these, the 
 shade of which makes my poor happiness ; brightened by 
 a sun more brilliant than that, which sheds its beams on 
 m€ ; — And their destiny seems to me as much more 
 worthy of envy in proportion as my own is the more 
 miserable. " 
 
 §, 107. Contiguity the third general or primary law. 
 
 Those thoughts and feelings, which have been connect- 
 ed together by nearness of time and place, are readily- 
 suggested by each other ; and, consequently, contiguity in 
 those respects is rightly reckoned, as another and third 
 primary law of our mental associations. When we think of 
 Palestine, for instance, we very readily and naturally 
 think of the Jewish nation, of the patriarchs, of the proph- 
 ets, of the Savior, and of the apostles, because Palestine 
 was their place of residence, and the theatre of their ac- 
 tions. So tliat this is evidently an instance, where the 
 suggestions are chiefly regulated hy proximity of place. 
 When a variety of acts and events have happened nearly 
 at the same period, whether in the same place or not, one 
 is not thought of witliout the other being closely associa- 
 ted with it, owing to proximity of time. If therefore, 
 the particular event of the crucifixion of the Savior be 
 mentioned, we are necessarily led to think of various 
 other events, which occurred about the same period, 
 such as the treacherous conspiracy of Judas, the denial 
 of Peter, the conduct of the Roman soldiery, the rending 
 of the veil of the temple, and the temporary obscuration 
 of the sun. 
 
 The mention of Egypt suggests, the Nile, the Pyramids, 
 Caasar, Cleopatra, Che battle of Aboukir. The naming of 
 the AMERICAN REVOLUTION immediately fills the mind with 
 recollections of Washington, Greene, and many of their 
 associates, whose fortune it was to enlist their exertions 
 in behalf of freedom in the same country and at the same 
 period. 
 
(I) PRIMARY LAWS. 139 
 
 The following passage from captain King's contiiiuation 
 of Cook's last voyage furnishes a remarkable example of 
 the operations of this principle ; — " While we were at din- 
 ner in this miserable hut, on the banks of the river, 
 Awatska, and the guests of a people, with whose existence 
 we had before been scarce acquainted, and at the extrem- 
 ity of the habitable globe, a solitary, Iialf-v/orn, pewter 
 spoon, whose shape was familiar to us, attracted our at- 
 tention ; and on examination, we found it stamped on the 
 back with the v/ord, London. I cannot pass over this 
 circumstance in silence out of gratitude for the many 
 pleasant thoughts, the anxious hopes, and tender remem- 
 brances it excited in us. Those, who have experienced 
 the effects, that long absence, and extreme distance from 
 their native country produce in the mind, will readily 
 conceive the pleasure such a trifling incident can give. " 
 The beauty of this illustration consists not so much in 
 the city or place having been suggested in consequence of 
 their seeing its name impressed on the pewter spoon, al- 
 though this may be supposed to have happened on the 
 principle of contiguity, as in the circumstance, that such 
 a multitude of other pleasing recollections thronged around 
 the memory of that place. When they thought of Lon- 
 don, they thought of their homes ; they thought of the in- 
 mates of those homes ; they thought of a thousand inci- 
 dents which they had there witnessed ; a striking illustra- 
 tion of the degree of importance, which may be accumu- 
 lated on the most trivial circumstance, when that circum- 
 stance can be made to connect itself effectually with any 
 general principles of our mental constitution. 
 
 That, which we have set down, as the third primary 
 law of mental association, is more extensive in its influence 
 than any others. It has been remarked with truth, that 
 proximity in time and place forms the whole calendar of 
 the great mass of mankind. They pay but little attention 
 to the arbitrary eras of chronology ; but date events by 
 each other, and speak of what happened at the time of 
 some dark day, some great eclipse, some war or rev- 
 olution, or when one neighbour built a house, or anoth- 
 er's was destroyed. 
 
HO LAWS 0^ ASSOCIATION. 
 
 § . 1 08 . Came and effect the fourth primary law . 
 
 There are certain facfs or events, which hold to each 
 other the relation of invariable antecedence and sequence. 
 That fact or event, to which some other one sustains the 
 relation of constant antecedence, is in general called an ej- 
 'feet; — And that fact or event, to waici some other on 3 
 holds the relation of invariable sequence, has in general 
 the name of a cause. Now there may be no resemblance 
 in the things, which reciprocally bear this relation, there 
 may be no contrariety, and it is by no 'means necessary, 
 that there should be contiguity in time or place, as the 
 meaning of the term, contiguity, is commonly understood. 
 There may be cause and effect without any one or all 
 of these circumstances. But it is a fact, which is known 
 to every one's experience, that when we think of the 
 cause in any particular instance, we naturally think of the 
 effect, and, on the contrary, the knowledge or recollection 
 of the eifect brings to mind the cause ; — And in view of 
 this well known and general experience, there is good rea^ 
 son for reckoning cause and effect among the primary 
 principles of our mental associations. What we here un^ 
 derstand by principles or laws will be recollected viz. The 
 general designation of those circumstances, under wliich 
 the regular consecution of mental states occurs. 
 
 It is on the principle of cause and effect, that when we 
 see a surgical instrument, or any engine of torture, we have 
 an idea of the pain, which they are fitted to occasion, and 
 for a moment are tempted to imagine, that we ourselves are 
 partially the subjects of it. The sight of a wound, in- 
 flicted however long before, suggests to us the instrument, 
 by which it was made. When we witness any of our fel- 
 low beings in distress, we naturally think of the particular 
 cause of it, if we know what it is ; and if we are ignorant, 
 we make it a subject of inquiry. When we have good 
 neyvs to communicate,we please ourselves with the thought 
 of the joy, which it will occasion, and the bearer of afflic- 
 tive tidings cannot but anticipate the grief, which the 
 annunciation of them will produce. 
 
CHAPTER TENTH. 
 
 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. (II) SECONDARY LAWS. 
 
 §. 109. Of secondary laws and their connection with the 
 primary. 
 
 The subject of Association is not exhausted in the 
 enumeration and explanation of its Laws, which has thus 
 far been given. Besides the primary laws, which have 
 fallen under our consideration, there are certain marked 
 and prominent circumstances, which are found to exert^, 
 in a greater or less degree, a modifying and controlling 
 influence over the more general principles. As this influ- 
 ence is of a permanent character, and not merely accidenr 
 tal and temporary, the grounds or sources of it are called,. 
 by way of distinction, secondary laws. 
 
 These, which we are now to consider, will probably 
 appear at first sight to be more numerous than they are 
 in fact. It is undoubtedly somewhat difiicult to make 
 out a just and unalterable designation of them. Never- 
 theless it is believed, that, on a careful examination, their 
 multiplicity will be lessened, and that they will be found 
 to be but four in number ; viz, lapse of time, degree of 
 coexistent feeling*, repetition or habit, and original or con- 
 stitutional difierence in character. 
 
 It must at once be obvious, that these principles, al- 
 though holding a subordinate rank, give an increased 
 range and power to the primary lav/s. It is not to be in- 
 
142 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 ferred from the epithet, by which they are distingnishedy 
 that they are, therefore, of a very minor, and inconsider- 
 able importance. On the contrary human nature without 
 them, as far as we are capable of judging, would have as- 
 sumed a sort of fixed and inflexible form, instead of pre- 
 senting those pleasing, and almost endless diversities it now 
 does.— The primary laws are the great national roads, 
 alonsf which the mind holds its course; the secondary 
 are those cross roads, that intersect them from time to 
 time, and thus afford an entrance into, and a communi- 
 cation with the surrounding country ; and yet all have a 
 connection with each other ; and with all their turnings 
 and intersections, concur at last in the ultimate destina- 
 tion. 
 
 §. 110. Of the influence of the lapse of time. 
 
 The first of the secondary laws, which we shall 
 consider, is lapse of time. Stated more particularly 
 the law is this ; Our trains of thought anH emotion are 
 more or less strongly connected and likely to be restor- 
 ed, according as the lapse of time has been greater 
 or less. 
 
 Perhaps no lapse of time, however great, will utterly 
 break the chain of human thought, and cause an entire in- 
 ability of restoring our former experiences ; but it appears 
 evident from observation, as far so as observation renders 
 evident in almost any case, that every additional moment 
 of intervening time weakens, if it do not break and sun- 
 der the bond, that connects the present with the past, and 
 diminishes the probability of such a restoration. We re- 
 member many incidents, even of a trifling nature, which 
 occurred to day, or the present week, while those of yes- 
 terday or of last week are forgotten But if the increas- 
 ed period of montl]^ and years throws itself between the 
 present time and the date of our past experiences, our an- 
 cient joys, regrets, and suflerings, then how unfrequent is 
 their recurrence, and how weak and shadowy they ap- 
 pear ! Increase the lapse of time a little further, and 
 a dark cloud rests on that portion of our history ; less 
 
(II) SECONDARY LAWS. 143 
 
 substantial than a dream, it utterly eludes our search, and 
 becomes to us as if it had never been. 
 
 There is, however, an apparent exception to this law, 
 which should be mentioned. The associated feelings of 
 old men, which were formed in their youth and the ear- 
 ly part of manhood, are more readily revived than those 
 of later origin. On this state of things in old men, two 
 remarks are to be be made. 
 
 The first is, that the law under consideration fully, and 
 unfailingly maintains itself in the case of aged persons^ 
 whenever the time is not extended far back. Events, 
 which happened but a few hours before, are remembered, 
 while there is an utter forgetfulness of those, which hap- 
 pened a few weeks or even days before. So far as this, 
 the law operates in old men precisely as in others. The 
 second remark is, that the failure of its operation in res- 
 pect to the events of youth is caused not by an actual ina- 
 bility in the secondary law before us, to blot out and dimin- 
 ish here as in other cases, but by the greater power of the 
 combined action of two other laws, viz. Co-existent 
 feeling, and Repetition or habit. Our early life, as a gen- 
 eral statement, was the most deeply interesting, and is 
 the most frequently recurred to ; and in this way its re- 
 collections become so incorporated with the mind as to 
 hold a sort of precedence over our more recent experi- 
 ences, and thrust them from their proper place. 
 
 §. 111. Secondary law of repetition or habit. 
 
 Another secondary law is repetition ; in other wordsj 
 successions of thought are the more readily suggested in 
 proportion as they are the more frequently renewed. If 
 we experience a feeling once, and only once, we iifid it 
 difficult to recall it after it has gone from us, but repeat- 
 ed experience increases the probability of its recurring. 
 Every schoolboy, who is required to commit to memory, 
 puts this law to the test and proves it. Having read a 
 sentence a number of times, he finds himself able to re- 
 peat it out of book, v/hich he could not do with merely 
 readinjy it once. 
 
144 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 The operation of this law is seen constantly in particular 
 arts and professions. If men be especially trained up to 
 certain trades, arts, and sciences, their associations on those 
 particular subjects and on every thing connected with 
 them, are found to be prompt and decisive. We can but 
 seldom detect any hesitancy or mistake within the circle, 
 where their minds have been accustomed to operate, be- 
 cause every thought and process have been recalled and 
 repeated thousands of times. With almost every thing 
 ithey see or hear there is a train of reflection, connecting 
 it with their peculiar calling, and bringing it within the 
 beaten and consecrated circle. They seem unable to free 
 themselves from an influence, which has grown with their 
 growth, and strengthened with their strength. Every 
 hour, unless they guard against it, hastens the process, 
 which threatens to cut them oflf, and insulate them from 
 the great interests of humanity, and to make them wholly 
 professional. 
 
 It is proper to add, that the result of repetition, which 
 is indicated here, is not limited to association. This is 
 only one of the numerous applications of the great law 
 OF HABIT, which will soon be separately considered. 
 
 ^. 112. Of the secondary law of co-existent emotion. 
 
 A third secondary law is co-existent emotion. — It 
 may be stated in other words as follows ; The probability, 
 that our mental states will be recalled by the general laws 
 will in part depend on the depth of feeling, the degree 
 of interest, which accompanied the original experience of 
 them. 
 
 Why are bright objects more readily recalled than 
 faint or obscure ? It is not merely because they occupied 
 more distinctly our perception, but because they more 
 engaged our attention and interested us, the natural conse- 
 quence of that greater distinctness. Why do those events 
 in our personal history, which were accompanied with 
 great joys and sorrows, stand out like pyramids in our 
 past life, distinct to the eye, and immovable in their posi- 
 tion, while others have been swept away, and cannot .be 
 
(II) SECONDARY LAWS. 145 
 
 found ? Merely because there were joy and sorrow in 
 the one case, and not at all, or only in a slight degree, in 
 the other ; because the sentient part of our nature com- 
 bined itself with the intellectual ; the heart gave activity 
 and vigour to the understanding. 
 
 We learn from a revered and ancient Book, that the 
 Jews could not forget JeruLalem, the Holy City, the 
 gates of Zion, that they loved so well. And why not ? 
 How did it happen that in their Captivity they sat down 
 by the rivers of Babylon, vv'cpt when they remembered 
 Zion, and hung their harps on the willows ? It was^ be- 
 cause the features of Jerusalem were not mere outlines, 
 addressed to the cold, unquickened perception ; but every 
 lineament was wreathed with love ; every gate and street 
 and dwelling-place and temple waxed bright and beauti- 
 ful in the midst of pure and pleasant recollections ; the 
 Holy city was not a mere abstraction of the head ; its 
 image was pictured and written on the heart. 
 
 §. 113. Original difference in the mental constitution. 
 
 The fourth and last secondary law of association is 
 
 ORIGINAL DIFFERENCE IN THE MENTAL CONSTITUTION. 
 
 This Law, it will be noticed, is expressed in the most gen- 
 eral terms ; and is to be considered, therefore, as applica- 
 ble both to the intellectual and the sentient part of m-^n. 
 It requires accordingly to be contemplated in two distinct 
 points of view. 
 
 The law under consideration holds good, in the first 
 place, in respect to original differences of emotion or feel- 
 ing, or as it is more commonly expressed, of disposition. 
 It will help to make us understood, if we allude briefly, in 
 this part of the subject, to two diiferent classes of persons. 
 One of the descriptions of men, which we have now in 
 view, is composed of those, for such are undoubtedly to 
 be found, who are of a pensive and melancholy turn. 
 From their earliest life they have sliown a fondness for 
 seclusion, in order that they miglit either comfnune with 
 the secrets of their own hearts, or hold intercourse, undis- 
 turbed by others, with whatever of impressiveness and 
 
146 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 sublimity is to be found in the works of nature. The 
 other class are naturally of a lively and cheerful tempera- 
 ment. If they delight in nature, it is not in solitude, but 
 in the company of others. While they seldom throw op- 
 en their hearts for the admission of troubled thoughts, 
 they oppose no obstacles to' the entrance of the sweet beams 
 of peace and joy and hope. 
 
 Now it is beyond question that the primary laws of 
 association are influenced by the constitutional tendencies, 
 manifest in these two classes of persons ; that is to say, 
 in the minds of two individuals, the one of a cheerful, the 
 other of a melancholy or gloomy disposition, the trains 
 of thought will be very different. This difference is fine- 
 ly illustrated in those beautiful poems of Milton, l'alle- 
 GRo and iL PENSEROso. L'allegro or the cheerful man 
 fmds pleasure and cheerfulness in every object, which he 
 beholds ; — The great sun puts on his amber light, the 
 mower whets his scythe, the milk-maid sings, 
 
 "And every shepherd tells his tale 
 "Under the hawthorn in the dale. 
 
 But the man of melancholy disposition, il penseroso, 
 chooses the evening for his walk, as most suitable to the 
 temper of his mind ; he listens from some lonely hillock 
 to the distant curfew, and loves to hear the song- of that 
 "sweet bird, 
 
 That shun'st the noise of folly, 
 
 "Most musical, most melancholy. 
 
 Further ;— Our trains of suggested thoughts will be 
 modified by those temporary feelings, which may be re- 
 garded, as exceptions to the more general character of our 
 dispositions. The cheerful man is not ahv^ays cheerful, 
 nor is the melancholy man at all times equally sober and 
 contemplative. They are known to exchange characters 
 for short periods, sometimes in consequence of good or 
 ill health, or of happy or adverse fortune, and sometimes 
 for causes 'which cannot be easily explained. So that our 
 mental states will be found to follow each other, with a 
 succession, varying not only with the general character of 
 
(11) SECONDARY LAWS. 147 
 
 our temper and dispositions, but with the transitory emo- 
 tions of the day or hour. 
 
 §. 114. The foregoing law as applicable to the intellect. 
 
 The law of original difference in the mental constitu- 
 tion is applicable, in the second place, to the intellect, 
 properly and distinctively so called ; in other words to 
 the comparing, judging, and reasoning part of the soul. 
 There is a difference in men in this respect, as well as in 
 their feelings and dispositions, although it is perceptible in 
 different degrees, and in some cases hardly perceptible at 
 all. One person, for instance, has from childhood ex- 
 hibited a remarkable command of the relations and com- 
 binations of numbers ; another exhibits in like manner an 
 uncommon perception of uses, adaptations, and powers, as 
 they are brought together, and set to work in the mechan- 
 ic arts ; another has the power of generalizing in an un- 
 common degree, and having obtained possession of a prin- 
 ciple in a particular case, which may appear to others 
 perfectly and irretrievably insulated, he at once extends it 
 to hundreds, and thousands of other cases. 
 
 It is perhaps unnecessary to delay here, for the pur- 
 pose of confirming what has now been said, by a refer- 
 ence to the history of individuals. A slight acquaintance 
 with literary history will show, that diversities of intel- 
 lect, such as have been alluded to, have been frequent. 
 Such diversities are undoubtedly to be considered as im- 
 plied in all instances of genius. When we are told, that 
 one man has a genius for mathematics, another for poet- 
 ry, that the genius of one lays in politics, and of another 
 in the mechanic arts, we naturally inquire, What genius 
 is? Nor are we able to learn, that it is anything more 
 than the constitutional difference we have been consider- 
 ing, combined perhaps with a strong curiosity ; in other 
 words, it is essentially and chiefly a natural tendency and 
 quickness in forming associations on the principles of re- 
 semblance, of contrast, and of cause and effect. The his- 
 tory of the human mind does not authorize us to expect 
 of men, whose associations are originally and prevailingly 
 
148 Lx\WS OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 formed on the law of mere contiguity in time ar.d place, 
 which seems to be the case with a great portion of man- 
 kind, that they will add new beauties to literature or nev/ 
 truths to science. How often had the husbandman seen 
 the apple fall to the ground without even asking for the- 
 cause ? But when Newton saw the fall of an apple, he 
 not only asked for the cause, but having conjectured it, 
 at once applied it to every thing in like circumstances 
 around him, to all the descending bodies on the earth's 
 surface. Here was a mind, not merely great by toil, but 
 constitutionally great and inventive. How much more so 
 then, when he lifted up the principle of gravitation from 
 the surface of the earth to the stars of heaven, and show- 
 ed its universality, and proved, that the furthest and migh- 
 tiest planet is governed in the same way as the smallest 
 particle of dust beneath our feet ! 
 
 All the laws of association may properly be given here 
 in a condensed view. The primary or general laws are 
 RESEMBLANCE, CONTRAST, CONTIGUITY lu time and placc, 
 and CAUSE and effect. Those circumstances, which are 
 found particularly to modify and control the action of 
 these, are termed secondary laws, and are as follows, 
 Lapse of time, Repetition or habit, Co-existent feeling, 
 and Constitutional difference in mental character. 
 
 §. 115. Of associations suggested by present objects of 
 perception. 
 
 There remains another point of view, in which it 
 seems proper, that the subject of association should be 
 contemplated, before we leave it. — Associated thoughts 
 and emotions, when made to pass through the mind by 
 some sound, which the ear has caught, by some object, 
 which has met the eye, or any present object of percep- 
 tion whatever, are peculiarly vivid and strong. Associa- 
 tions, which do not admit of any of our present perceptions 
 as a part of the associated train, cannot but impress us, as 
 being in some measure airy and unsubstantial, however 
 distinct. We deeply fee!, that they are part of the expe- 
 riences of departed days and which, in departing from 
 
(II) SECONDARY LAWS. 149 
 
 us, have become almost, as if they had never been. But 
 let them partake of onr present experience, and of what we 
 now feel and iinow to exist, and they seem to gain new 
 strength ; the remembrances are not only distinct, but 
 what was airy and unsuTDstantial fades away, and they 
 have life, and power, and form. 
 
 How often in the wanderings of life, are we led by 
 some apparently accidental train of thought to the recol- 
 lection of the residence of our early years and of the inci- 
 dents, which then occurred ! The associations are inter- 
 esting, but we find it difficult to make them permanent, 
 and they are comparatively faint. But let there be con- 
 nected with the train of thought the present sound of 
 some musical instrument, which we then used to hear, 
 and of our favorite tune, and it will be found, that the 
 reality of the tune blends itself with the airy conceptions 
 of the mind, and, while we kindle with an illusive rap- 
 ture, the whole seems to be real. Some illustrations may 
 tend to make these statements more clear, and to confirm 
 them . 
 
 Is is related in one of the published Lectures of Dr, 
 Rush, that an old native African was permitted by his mas- 
 ter a number of years since, to go from home in order 
 to see a lion, that was conducted as a show through the 
 state of New Jersey. He no sooner saw him, than he 
 was so transported with joy, as to express his emotions 
 by jumping, dancing, and loud acclamations, notwith- 
 standing the torpid habits of mind and body, superindu- 
 ced by half a century of slavery. He had known that 
 animal, wdien a boy in his native country, and the sight 
 of him suddenly revived the memory of his early en- 
 joyments, his native land, his home, his associates, and 
 his freedom. 
 
 There is in the same writer another interesting in- 
 stance of the power of association, in which he himself 
 had a part, and which will be given in his own words. — 
 " During the time I passed at a country-school, in Cecil 
 County, in Maryland, I often went on a holiday, with my 
 schoolmates, to see an eagle's nest, upon the summit of a 
 
150 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 dead tree in the neighbourhood of the school, during the 
 time of the incubation of that bird. The daughter of 
 the farmer, in whose field this tree stood, and with whom 
 I became acquainted, married, and settled in this city about 
 forty years ago. In our occasional interviews, we now 
 and then spoke of the innocent haunts and rural pleas- 
 ures of our youth, and, among other things, of the ea- 
 gle's nest in her father's field. A few years ago I was 
 called to visit this woman, when she was in the lowest 
 stage of a typhus fever. Upon entering her room, I 
 caught her eye, and, with a cheerful tone of voice, said 
 only, ' The eaglets nest.'' She seized my hand, without be- 
 ing able to speak, and discovered strong emotions of 
 pleasure in her countenance, probably from a sudden asso- 
 ciation of all her early domestic connections and enjoy- 
 ments with the words I had uttered. From that time 
 she began to recover. She is now living, and seldom 
 fails, when we meet, to salute me with the echo of the 'ea- 
 gle's nest.' " 
 
 §. 116. Causes of increased vividness in the foregoing 
 instances. 
 
 From such illustrations it would seem to be sufficient- 
 ly clear, that, whenever associated thoughts and emotions 
 are connected with any present perceptions, they are pe- 
 culiarly strong and vivid. They steal into all the secret 
 chambers of the soul, and seemingly by some magic pow- 
 er impart a deep intensity to its feelings, and give to the 
 fleeting world of memory the stability of real existence. 
 There are two causes, why such associated feelings should 
 possess more than ordinary strength and vividness. 
 » (l) The particular train of thought and feeling, which 
 is excited in the mind, continues longer than in other ca- 
 ses, in consequence of the greater permanency and fixed- 
 ness of the present objects of perception, which either 
 suggested the train or make a part of it. So long as the 
 lion was permitted to remain in the sight of the aged Af- 
 rican, so long without interruption was the -series of de- 
 lightful thoughts kept up within him. The bright ima- 
 ges, which threw him into such raptures, and awoke stu- 
 
(II) SECONDARY LAWS. 151 
 
 pidity itself, were not fleeting away with every breath,but 
 remained permanent. 
 
 The sick lady of Philadelphia saw the physician, with 
 whom she had been acquainted in the early part of life. 
 By the mention of the eagle's nest, he vividly recalled the 
 scenes of tliose young days. But it was the presence of 
 the person, whose observation had given rise to the train 
 of association, which contributed chiefly to keep it so 
 long in her thoughts. Had it occurred merely from 
 some accidental direction of her own mind, without any 
 present object, which had made a part of it, no doubt 
 her sufferings or other circumstances would soon have 
 banished it. 
 
 (2) The second cause of the increased vividness of as- 
 sociations, suggested by a present object of perception or 
 combined with it, is this, viz. The reality of the thing 
 perceived is communicated in the illusion of the moment 
 to the thing suggested. The trees of the desert were the 
 hiding place of the lion, when the African saw him in 
 early life ; and now after the lapse of so many years, he 
 imagines, that, in the quickened eye of his mind he be- 
 holds the forests of his native soil, because he has before 
 him the proud and powerful animal, that crouched under 
 their shade. And the presence of the monarch of the 
 forest gives a reality not only to woods and deserts ; but 
 by a communication of that, which exists to that, which 
 is merely suggested, the whole group of his early experi- 
 ences of whatever kind, so far as they are recalled, virtu- 
 ally acquire a like truth and reality. 
 
 These remarks may be properly applied to explain a 
 recent strong manifestation of feeling in a whole people. 
 The citizens of the United States have a multitude of 
 patriotic associations, connected with their revolutionary 
 war. But those associations, owing to length of time, 
 were by degreed growing dim on the minds of the aged, 
 and made a still more diminished impression on those of 
 the young. In the years eighteen hundred twenty-four 
 and five, La Fayette, the only surviving revolutionary 
 
 * Rush's LntTodtictory Lectures, xi. 
 
152 LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 
 
 officer of the grade of major-general came from France 
 on a visit to this countryto see once more the people, for 
 whom he had fought in his youth. All classes flocked to 
 behold him, and to grasp his hand. Npthing could ex- 
 ceed the deep feeling, which existed from one part of the 
 republic to the other. But it was not the individual 
 merely, however strongly the people were attached to 
 him, that awoke such a happy and lofty enthusiasm. All 
 the events and all the characters of the revolution exist to 
 the present generation in associated states of the mind, 
 and, as La fayette had long formed a part in those ideal 
 associations, when we were so fortunate, as to see him 
 with our own eyes and touch him with our own hands, 
 the Revolution seemed in a new sense to be real, and 
 all its scenes were embodied before us. All his associates 
 in suffering and danger, all the renowned names that once 
 fought by his side, wer© concentred in himself. The re- 
 ality of the living seemed to spread itself into the shad- 
 owy images of the dead ; and thus the presence of this 
 distinguished individual created not only a virtual re-exis- 
 tence, but a virtual presence for those revolutionary wor- 
 thies, who are destined to maintain a cherished and per- 
 manent resting-place in the hearts of American citizens. 
 It is in this deep and fond illusion, that we are, in part at 
 least, to seek for the cause of the overwhelming emotion, 
 whfch w^as exhibited. 
 
 In all the cases, which have been mentioned, the asso- 
 ciated feelings were intensely powerful ; a multitude 
 of other instances, occurring indeed every day, illustrate 
 the same idea, that they are strong and vivid in an unusu- 
 al degree, when suggested by, or combined with a present 
 object of perception. The two circumstances, which have 
 been mentioned, seem to be the most obvious and sat- 
 isfactory reasons, which can be given in explanation of 
 the fact. • 
 
CHAPTER ELEVENTH. 
 
 LAW OF HABIT. 
 
 §. 117. General view of the law of habit and of its 
 application . 
 
 There is another great law of the mind, distinct from 
 those which have been mentioned, which requires in this 
 connection a separate and particular consideration, tliat of 
 Habit. This important law of our constitution may be 
 stated in general terms as follows ; That the mental action 
 acquires facility and strength from repetition or practice. The 
 fact, that the facility and the increase of strength, implied 
 in HABIT, is owing to mere repetition, or what is more 
 frequently termed practice, we learn, as we do other facts 
 and principles in relation to the mind, from the observa- 
 tion of men around us, and from our own personal expe- 
 rience. And as it has hitherto been found impracticable to 
 resolve it into any general fact or principle more element- 
 ary, it may be justly regarded as somethmg ultimate and 
 essential in our nature. 
 
 The term Habit, by the use of language, indicates the 
 facility and strength, acquired in the way which has been 
 mentioned, including both the result and the manner of, 
 it. As the law of Jiabit has reference to the whole mind 
 of man, the application of the term, wliich expresses it, 
 is of course very extensive. We apply it to the dexteri- 
 ty of workmen in the different manual arts, to the rapidi- 
 ty of the accountant, to the coup d'csil or eye-glance of 
 ^0 
 
154 LAW OF HA#IT. 
 
 the military engineer, to the tact and fluency of the ex- 
 temporaneous speaker, and in other like instances. We 
 
 apply it also in cases, v/here the mere exercise of emotion 
 and desire is concerned ; to the avaricious man's love of 
 wealth, the ambitious man's passion for distinction, the 
 wakeful suspicions of the jealous, and the confirmed 
 and substantial benevolence of the philanthropist. 
 
 It is remarkable, that the law under consideration 
 holds good in respect to the body, as well as the mind. 
 In the mechanical arts and in all cases, where there is a 
 corporeal, as well as mental effort, the effect of practice 
 will be found to extend to both. Not only the acts of 
 the mind are quickened and strengthened, but all those 
 muscles, which are at such times employed, become stron- 
 ger and more obedient to the will. Indeed the submis- 
 sion of the muscular effort to the volition is oftentimes 
 rendered so prompt by habit, that we are unable distinct- 
 ly to recollect any exercise of volition, previous to the ac- 
 tive and muscular exertion. It is habit, which causes 
 that peculiarity of attitude and motion, so easily discov- 
 erable in most persons, termed their gait ; it is habit also, 
 which has impressed on the muscles, immediately connect- 
 ed with the organs of speech, that fixed and precise form 
 of action, which in different individuals gives rise, in part 
 at least, to characteristic peculiarities of voice. The hab- 
 it in the cases just mentioned is both bodily and mental, 
 and has become so strong, that it is hardly possible to coun- 
 teract it for any length of time. — But it will be necessary 
 in the remainder of this chapter to limit our considera- 
 tions chiefly to Habit, considered as a law of our mental 
 nature. 
 
 §, 118. Illustrations of the law of habit. 
 
 There will be occasion in almost every part of this 
 Work, to illustrate and confirm this law. We shall 
 scarcely advance a step in any part of our inquiries, with- 
 out being called upon to contemplate increased evidence 
 of its extent and power. It seems proper, however, to 
 introduce in this place some further instances in illustra- 
 
LA 
 
 ^I^F HABIT. 155 
 
 tion of its existence and nature ; remarking at the same 
 time that we discuss the subject here only in part and 
 imperfectly, as we should otherwise anticipate remarks, 
 which will more suitably offer themselves on subsequent 
 occasions. 
 
 If a person, for instance, make it a practice to recall 
 words which have a similar sound, this particular form 
 of association will by degrees be so strengthened, that in 
 the end it will be by no means difficult to secure the re- 
 currence of such words. This is the true explanation of 
 the power of rhyming. It is well known, that most per- 
 sons, whether they posess poetical genius or not, may ac- 
 quire this power, by continuing for a length of time their 
 search after words of a like termination. But this case of 
 increased facility of association answers to the alleged re- 
 sult of the law under consideration ; and is an instance, 
 and at the same time an illustration, and proof of habit. 
 
 Again, if a public speaker have fixed in his mind cer- 
 tain permanent principles, which are to guide him in the 
 division and subdivision of his discourse, he acquires by 
 practice a readiness in respect to them, and immediately 
 applies them to every subject of debate. By means of 
 the habit which he has formed, he is not only enabled to 
 resolve a subject into suitable parts, but to pass without 
 hesitation or danger of mistake from one part of it to an- 
 other ; whereas a person, who has not formed this habit 
 is perpetually at a loss ; he advances and retreats, goes 
 over the ground again and again, and involves himself in 
 inextricable confusion. 
 
 But take an instance of a little different kind, which, 
 however, not less clearly shows what results may be ex- 
 pected from practice. "I sometimes amuse myself, 
 
 [says Dr. Priestly,] with playing on a flute, which I did 
 not learn very early, so that I have a perfect remembrance, 
 that I exerted an express voluntary power every time that 
 I covered any particular hole with my finger. But though 
 I am no great proficient on the instrument, there are some 
 tunes which I now very often play without ever attending 
 to my fingers, or explicitly to the tune. I have even 
 
156 LAW OF HABIT. 
 
 played in concert, and, as I was informed, perfectly in 
 tune, when I have been so absent, that, except at the be- 
 ginning,- I did not recollect that I had been playing at all." 
 
 In this case it was necessary to establish an association 
 between certain positions of the fingers and the emission 
 of certain sounds, indicated by the musical notes. The 
 union thus formed was at first both weak, and slow and 
 lingering in its results. It gradually acquired strength 
 and facility by repetition ; that is, a habit of association 
 was formed. 
 
 But there may be not only a habit of association, such 
 as is evident in the instances, which have been now men- 
 tioned ; the results of this law are found also in sensation 
 and perception, in im.agination and reasoning, and in other 
 parts of our purely intellectual nature, as we shall be led 
 to see in the progress of our inquiries. 
 
 §. 119. Application of this law to feelings or emotions. 
 
 The existence of the same great law of our nature may 
 be detected also in the operations of the emotions and pas- 
 sions. An unfavourable suspicion is indulged by one 
 
 individual in respect to another ; this suspicion, instead of 
 being effectually examined and checked, is permitted to 
 return ; it often arises, and is found to gain strength from 
 the mere repetition, until it is converted, by the iiccession 
 of strength it has received, into positive dislike, and some- 
 times into hatred. The feeling of benevolence is sub- 
 jected to the same general law. If this feeling be expos- 
 ed to a continued system of repression, it becomes so brok- 
 en down and weakened, that at last objects of suffering 
 entirely cease to affect us. Bat on the contrary, if it be 
 indulged, it will gain strength ; it will become more and 
 more ready and effective in its operation. — The case] of 
 the philanthropic Howard may be regarded as a proof of 
 this. The feeling of benevolence was undoubtedly strong, 
 when he first set out on his great and noble employment of 
 visiting prisons and prisoners. But the record of his life 
 is believed to justify the assertion, that the feeling 
 increased by repetition, that it grew brighter and bright- 
 
LAW OF HABIT. I57 
 
 er, more and more intense, until, like the fire of the 
 . Vestals, it burnt perpetually in his bosom. 
 
 It is happy for us, in the inquiries of mental philoso- 
 phy, if we can confirm what inquisitive men have been 
 able to discover in their closets by an insight into the men- 
 tal history of common life; by a reference to the experi- 
 ences, habits, and prejudices of those, who make no pre- 
 tensions to skill in books. Nor are confirmations of the 
 principles of this science less valuable, when they are o-iv- 
 en by scholars, whose calling it is to write upon other 
 subjects, but who at times let fall an incidental testimony 
 in respect to them. Thus in a work of the first President 
 Adams is the following passage, which confirms the views 
 of this section ; " The pasgions are all unlimited ; na- 
 ture has left them so ; if they could be bounded, they 
 would be extinct , and there is no doubt they are of in- 
 dispensible importance in the present system. They cer- 
 tainly increase too, by exercise, like the body ; the love 
 of gold grows faster than the heap of acquisition ; the 
 love of praise increases by every gratification, till it stings 
 like an adder and bites like a serpent, till the man is mis- 
 erable every moment he does not snuff the incense ; am- 
 bition strengthens at every advance, and at last takes pos- 
 session of the whole soul so absolutely, that the man sees 
 nothing in the world of importance to others, or himseff, 
 but in his object."* 
 
 *Aclam's Defence of the Constitutions of the United States, VoL 
 L p, 129— Phiiad. Ed. 
 
i I 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER TWELFTH 
 
 SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS OF MENTAL 
 STATES. 
 
 ^. 120. Origin of the distinction of mental states as simple 
 and complex. 
 
 Before leaving the subject of those more general 
 laws by which the action of the mind is so essentially- 
 sustained and guided, there remains one topic further to 
 be briefly examined : it is the existence of our mental 
 
 states as Simple and Complex. This subject, which has 
 
 been more than once already alluded to, and which will 
 hereafter be frequently made the basis of remarks, holds a 
 prominent place in the writings of Mr. Locke. He early 
 introduces it into the Essay on the Understanding, and 
 seems to recur to it with peculiar pleasure ; frequently sep- 
 arating thought and feeling into their elementary parts, 
 balancing one state of mind with another, and estimating 
 their comparative value. It cannot, therefore, be passed 
 by without some examination, and perhaps.no opportu- 
 nity will present itself more favorable on all accounts 
 than the present. And in truth, if the views which are 
 to be maintained on this subject be correct, it is no misap- 
 plication of language, although it may have the appear- 
 ance of being an uncommon phraseology, to speak of 
 the principle involved in them, as a law of our mental 
 nature. 
 
 On entering into this subject, the first inquiry is, 
 Whether the consideration of our mental states as simple 
 
SIMPLE AND COMPLEX MENTAL STATES. 159 
 
 and complex is a just and a proper one ? And in reference 
 lo this inquiry, it is an obvious remark, that, in looking 
 at our thoughts and feelings, as they continually pass un- 
 der the review of our internal observation, we readily 
 perceive, that tliey are not of equal worth ; we do not 
 assign to them the same estimate ; one* state of mind is 
 found to be expressive of one thing only, and that thing, 
 whatever it is, is precise, and definite, and inseparable ; 
 while another state of mind is found to be expressive of, 
 and virtually equal to many others. And hence* we are 
 led not only with the utmost propriety, but even by a 
 sort of necessity, to make a division of the whole body 
 of our mental affections into the two classes of simple and 
 COMPLEX. Nature herself makes the division ; it is one 
 of those characteristics, which gives to the mind, in part 
 at least, its greatness ; one of those elements of power, 
 without which the soul could not be what it is, and with- 
 out a knowledge of which it is difficult to possess a full 
 and correct understanding of it in other respects. 
 
 <^. 121, Of the general nature of simple mental states. 
 
 We shall first offer some remarks on those mental 
 states, which are simple, and shall aim to give an under- 
 standing of their nature, so far as can be expected on a 
 subject, the clearness of which depends more on a refer- 
 ence to our own personal consiousness, than on the teach- 
 ings of others. 
 
 Let it be noticed then in the first place, that a simple 
 idea cannot be separated into parts. — It is clearly im- 
 plied in the very distinction between simplicity and com- 
 plexity, considered in relation to the states of the mind, 
 that there can be no such separation, no such division. 
 It is emphatically true of our simple ideas and emotions, 
 whether the remark will hold good of any thing else or 
 not, that they are one and indivisible. Whenever you 
 can detect in them more than one element, they at once 
 lose their character of simplicity and become complex, 
 however they may have previously appeared. Insepara- 
 bleness* consequently is their striking characteristic ; and 
 
160 SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS. 
 
 it may be added, that they are not only inseparable in them- 
 selvesj but are separate from every thing else. There is 
 nothing, which can stand as a substitute for them where 
 they are, or represent them where they are not; they are in- 
 dependent unities, constituted exclusively by the mind it- 
 self, having a specific and positive character, but neverthe- 
 less known only in themselves. 
 
 §. 122. Simple mental states not susceptible of definition. 
 
 Let it be observed, in the second place, that our simple 
 notions cannot be defined. — This view of them follows 
 necessarily from what has been said of their oneness and 
 inseparableness, compared with what is universally un- 
 derstood, by defining. In respect to definitions it is jin- 
 doubtedly true, that we sometimes use synonymous words 
 for the same thing, and give it the name of defining, but 
 it is not properly such. It is expected in defining, and is 
 implied in the meaning of the term itself, that the sub- 
 ject will be made clearer, but this is never done directly 
 by the use of synonymous terms, and oftentimes is not 
 done by them in any way. 
 
 In every legitimate definition, the idea, which is to be 
 defined, is to be separated, as far as may be thought ne- 
 cessary, into its subordinate parts ; and these parts are to 
 be presented to the mind for its examination, instead of 
 the original notion, into which they entered. This pro- 
 cess must be gone through in every instance of accurate 
 defining ; this is the general and authorized view of defi- 
 nition ; and it is not easy to see, in what else it can well 
 consist. 
 
 But this process will not apply to our simple thoughts 
 and feelings, because if there be any such thing as sim- 
 ple mental states, they are characterized by inseparable- 
 ness and oneness. And, furthermore, if we define ideas 
 by employing other ideas, we must count upon meeting 
 at last witii such as shall be ultimate, and will reject all 
 verbal explantion ; otherwise we can never come to an 
 end in the process. — So that the simple mental afiec- 
 tions are not only imdefinable in themselves ; but, if tlicre 
 
OF MENTAL STM^ES. 161 
 
 were no such elementary states of mind, there could be no 
 defining in any other case ; it would be merely analysis 
 upon analysis, a process without completion, and a labour 
 without end ; leaving the subject in as much darkness as 
 when it was begun. 
 
 §. 123. Means oj obtaining a knowledge of our simple 
 
 notions. 
 
 Although nothing is more clearly settled in Mental 
 Philosophy, than the existence of simple ideas, character- 
 ized by their inseparableness and unity, and that they are 
 of course undefinable, the objection is sometimes made, 
 that this doctrine leaves that part of our knowledge in 
 great obscurity. As we are utterly unable to make them 
 any clearer by definition, and by merely using other 
 words, some persons may profess not to understand what 
 is meant by the terms, extension, solidity, heat, cold, red, 
 sweet, unity, desire, pleasure, existence, power, and other 
 
 names of our simple thoughts and feelings. If there is 
 
 a difficulty here, it will be likely to remain so ; we must 
 take our nature as it is, in all its essential and original fea- 
 tures, and are unable to alter it. But the truth is, there 
 is no difficulty ; as a general statement, the simple- mental 
 states are more clear and definite to our comprehension 
 than others, notwithstanding their undefinableness. They 
 are the direct oJfFspring of nature, and it is not often that 
 she leaves her own work unformed, darkened, and indefi- 
 nite. 
 
 In those few instances, however, (for such may per- 
 haps be found,) where there happens to be a degreee of 
 mental obscurity, resting on them, we are able to assist the 
 conceptions of others, by a statement of the circumstan- 
 ces, as far as possible, under which the simple idea exists. 
 And having done this, we can merely refer them to their 
 own senses, their own consciousness and personal experi- 
 ence, as the only teacher, from which they can expect to 
 receive any tolerable satisfaction. Simple ideas and feel- 
 ings derive both their existence and cliaracter from the 
 constitution of the mind itself ; in the event and issue of 
 21 
 
162 SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS 
 
 their inquiries, the mind alone, as it comes under their 
 own inspection, can tell them, what they are. 
 
 §. 124. Ori^n of complex notions and their relation to simple. 
 
 Our simple notions, which we have thus endeavoured 
 to explain, were probably first in origin. There are rea- 
 sons for considering them as antecedent in point of time 
 to our complex mental states, although in many cases it 
 may not be easy to trace the progress of the mind from 
 the one to the other. The complex notions of external 
 material objects embrace the separate and simple notions 
 of extension, hardness, colour, taste, and others. As these 
 elementary parts evidently have their origin in distinct 
 and separate senses, it is but reasonable to suppose, that 
 they possess a simple, before they are combined together 
 in a complex existence. Simple ideas, therefore, may 
 justly be regarded as antecedent in point of time to those, 
 which are complex, and as laying the foundation of them. 
 
 Hence we see, that it is sufficiently near the truth, and 
 that it is not improper, to speak of our complex ideas, as 
 derived from, or made up of simple ideas. This is the 
 well known language of Mr. Locke on this subject ; and 
 when we consider how much foundation there is for it in 
 the constitution and operations of the human mind, there 
 is good reason for retaining it. 
 
 Although purely simple ideas and emotions are few in 
 Jiumber, vast multitudes of a complex nature are formed 
 from them. The ability, which the mind possesses of 
 originating complex thoughts and feelings from elementa- 
 ry ones, may be compared to our power of uniting to- 
 gether the letters of the alphabet in the formation of sylla- 
 bles and words. 
 
 ^. 125. Of the precise sense in which complexness is to be 
 understood. 
 
 But while we distinctly assert the frequent complex- 
 ness of the mental affections, it should be particularly kept 
 in mind, that they are not to be regarded in the light of a 
 material compound, where the parts, although it may 
 
OF MENTAL STATES. 163 
 
 sometimes appear to be otherwise, necessarily possess no 
 higher unity than that of juxtaposition, and of course can 
 be literally separated from each other, and then put to- 
 gether again. There is nothing of this kind ; neither put- 
 ting together, nor taking asunder, in this literal and ma- 
 terial sense. But if our thoughts and feelings are not made 
 up of others, and are not complex, in the material sense of 
 the expressions, what t-hen constitutes their complexness ? 
 This inquiry gives occasion for the important remark, 
 that complexness in relation to the mind is not literal, but 
 virtual only. What we term a complex feeling is in itself 
 truly simple, but at the same time is equal to many oth- 
 ers and is complex only in that sense. Thought after 
 thought, and emotion following emotion, passes through 
 the mind ; and as they are called forth by the operation 
 of the laws of association, many of them necessarily have 
 relation to the same object. Then there follows a new 
 state of mind, which is the result of thosp previous feel- 
 ings, and is complex in the sense already explained. That 
 is to say, it is felt by us to possess a virtual equality to 
 those separate antecedent thoughts and emotions. Our 
 simple feelings are like streams coming from different 
 mountains, but meeting and mingling together at last in 
 the common centre of some intermediate lake ; the tribu- 
 tary fountains are no longer separable ; but have disap-. 
 peared, and become merged and confounded in the bosom 
 of their common resting place. Or they may be likened to 
 the cents and dimes of the American coinage, tens and hun- 
 dreds of which are represented by a single eagle ; and yet 
 the eagle is not divided into a hundred or thousand parts, 
 but has as much unity as the numerous pieces, for which 
 it stands. 
 
 The language,which expresses the composition and com- 
 plexity of thought, is, therefore, to be regarded as wholly 
 metaphorical, when applied to the mind, and is not to be 
 taken in its literal meaning. We are under the necessity 
 of employing in this case, as in others, language which has 
 a material origin, but we shall not be led astray by it, if 
 we carefully attend to what has been said, and endeavour 
 
164 SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS 
 
 to aid our conception of it by a reference to our internal 
 experience. 
 
 §. 126. Illustrations of analysis as applied to the mind. 
 
 The subject of the preceding section will be the better 
 understood by the consideration of Analysis as applicable 
 to the mind. As we do not coinbine literally, so we do 
 not untie or separate literally ; as'there is no literal com= 
 plexness, so there is no literal resolution or analysis of it- 
 Nevertheless we have a meaning, when we speak of analy- 
 zing our thoughts and feelings. And what is it ? What 
 are we to understand by the term analysis ? 
 
 Although this subject is not without difficulty, both in 
 the conception, and in the expression of it, it is suscepti- 
 ble of some degree of illustration. — It will be remembered, 
 that there may be analysis of material bodies. The chem- 
 ist analyzes, when he takes a piece of glass which appears 
 to be one substance, and finds, that it is not one, but is 
 separable into silicious and alkaline matter. He takes 
 other bodies and separates them in the like manner ; and 
 whenever he does this, the process is rightly called analysis. 
 
 Now we apply the same term to the mind ; but the 
 thing expressed by it, the process gone through, is not the 
 same. All we can say is, there is something like thiso 
 We do not resolve and separate a complex thought, as we 
 do a piece of glass or other material body into its parts ; 
 we are utterly unable to do it, if we should seriously make 
 the attempt ; every mental state is in itself and in fact 
 simple and indivisible, and is complex only virtually. 
 Complex notions are the results, rather than the com- 
 pounds of former feeling ; and though not literally made 
 up of parts, have the relation to them, which any material 
 whole has to the elements composing it ; and in that par- 
 ticular sense may be said to comprehend or embrace the 
 subordinate notions. Mental analysis accordingly con- 
 cerns merely this relation. We perform such an analysis, 
 when, by the aid of our reflection and consciousness, we 
 arc able to indicate those separate and subordinate feel- 
 ings, to which, in our conception " it, the complex men- 
 tal state is virtually equal 
 
OF MENTAL STATES. 165 
 
 The term government, for instance, expresses a com- 
 plex feeling; we may make this feeling, which is in fact on- 
 ly one, although it is virtually more than one, a subject of 
 contemplation , and we are said to analyze it, when we 
 are able to indicate those separate and more elementary 
 notions, without the existence and antecedence of which, 
 it could not have been formed by the mind. We do not 
 literally take the complex state in pieces, but we designate 
 other states of mind which, every one's knowledge of the 
 origin of thought convinces him, must have preceded it, 
 such as the ideas of power, right, obligation, command^ 
 and the relative notions of superiour and inferiour. 
 
CHAPTER THIRTEENTH, 
 
 GENERAL CLASSIFICATION. 
 
 §. 127. The mental states divided into intellectual and 
 sentient. 
 
 What has hitherto been said has aided in preparing 
 the way for the consideration of the mental acts, exerci- 
 ses, or states. And with the consideration of this topic, 
 is necessarily' connected the examination of the suscepti- 
 bilities or powers, to which they owe their origin, or with 
 the action of which they are intimately combined. This 
 is a vast subject, beset with many perplexities, but which, 
 it is hoped, will be rendered more easy and simple, by 
 having taken out from it, and considered separately the 
 topics, which have hitherto come under our notice. 
 
 One cause of perplexity in the inquiries, on which we 
 are next to enter, is, that our mental states often closely re- 
 semble each other in their characteristics, or are much in- 
 termingled in other ways and for other causes, and that 
 hence it is often difficult to separate and class them. But 
 it is obviously impossible to consider them in the mass, 
 for that would lead to utter confusion ; it is impossible 
 also to consider them individually, for that would be la- 
 bour without end ; there must be a classification of some 
 kind either more or less general. With this object, there- 
 fore, in view, we make the various exercises of the mind 
 ^he subject of our contemplation, and the result of this 
 
GENERAL CLASSIFICATION. 167 
 
 examination, is, that we find them susceptible of a gen- 
 eric arrangement, the outlines of which, whatever may 
 be true in respect to its details, have been universally de- 
 tected. The arrangement to which we refer, is that of 
 the division of the mental states into Intellectual and 
 Sentient. 
 
 §. 128. Evidence in favour of this classification from 
 what we observe in men generxdly. 
 
 We find some evidence of the propriety of this gener- 
 al arrangement, of this partitioning, if we may so speak, 
 of our mental nature, in the conduct and characters of 
 men, as they pass under our observation. The classifica- 
 tion in question is not merely to be found in books ; it is 
 not the work of mere scholars ; but it is clearly recogni- 
 zed in the language and conduct of men generally. Those 
 men without education, who merely express what they 
 feel, without any formal attempt at analyzing their feel- 
 ings, have observed, and detected, and asserted it. How 
 common it is for them to refer to occasions, where in 
 their own method of expressing it, their understandings 
 were convinced, but their hearts were not affected ! And 
 do they not unconsciously indicate in such language the 
 line of demarcation, which the Creator of the mind has 
 drawn between its intellectual and sentient nature ? Nor 
 is this remark of trifling consequence. It is no small evi- 
 dence of the existence of the generic distinction under 
 consideration, when we find it acknowledged by the un- 
 lettered, as well as by the mere scholar. The elements of 
 human nature were not given stintedly and by measure ; 
 they were not apportioned out to those, on whom the 
 favours of rank and learning happened to be conferred, io 
 the exclusion of the poor and ignorant, but beam in every 
 human countenance, and speak even in the language of the 
 outcast and degraded slave. 
 
 But there are other men, who furnish a lesson on this 
 subject. If we look among those, who are allowedly 
 possessed of the highest intellectual attainments and cul- 
 ture, we shall not unfrequently observe in two men a per- 
 
166 GENERAL CLASSIFICATION 
 
 feet likeness in the intellect, but an utter discrepancy in the 
 heart. Both possess clearness of perception, resources of 
 knowledge, eminent powers of reasoning, and all in equal 
 degree. What then ? The heart of the one, (^the sentience, 
 if it were allowed so to speak,) is all kindness, truth, and 
 justice ; he is an Aristides, a Washington, earnestly seeking 
 to do good, and incapable of intentionally doing wrong ; 
 while that of the other is the den and loathsome lodging 
 place for envy, falsehood, cruelty, deceit, and every evil 
 thing. 
 
 Look at the individuals who compose Congresses and 
 Parliaments, and other select and established congrega- 
 tions of great men ; take the measurement of their know- 
 ledge, the guage of their intellectual invention ; and many 
 will be found, showing the ^same compass, and bearing an 
 equality of impress. Then turn from the intellect, and 
 look into that better and higher sanctuary of the soul, 
 which is the residence of the feeling, the hope, the de- 
 sire, the moral sentiment, and it will require no remarka- 
 ble gift of perception to discover a difference in those, 
 who in the other respect were essentially equal. One is 
 endeavouring to crush the powerless, another is too high- 
 minded to bruise a broken reed ; one acts wholly for him- 
 self, another for his country ; one feels for his country 
 and that is all, another adds to his love of country the 
 love of mankind ; one will sell his vote for two farthings, 
 another will sooner part with his right hand or right eye, 
 than break his agreement with his honour and con- 
 science. 
 
 Now we feel at liberty to build up a conclusion in 
 view of these facts. We deem ourselves warranted in de- 
 ducing the inference, that there is in man's mind a com- 
 bination of nature. Something is meant when we use the 
 word UNDERSTANDING in distinction from the heart. 
 There is a sentient, as well as an intellectual constitution ; 
 there are cognitive powers, and there arc susceptibilities of 
 emotion. 
 
GENERAL CLASSIFICATION. 369 
 
 §. 129. This classification frequently recognized in writers. 
 
 Although on this subject we have looked to the unlet- 
 tered multitude, and men of business and action first, we 
 are by no means to exclude mere men of letters, and to 
 hold their testimony, in whatev^er way it maybe given, 
 as unimportant. Literary writers of eminence for the most 
 part clearly recognize, either directly or indirectly, the 
 generic arrangement, which has been proposed. It is 
 perhaps unnecessary to make the remark, that Locke, al- 
 though he did not limit himself to one class of subjects, 
 took for his principle and prominent topic the intellect ; 
 the title page of his great work intimates this ; it reads. An 
 Essay concerning Human Understanding; but Ed wards, who 
 was animated with the hope of seeing men brought nearer 
 to their Creator, selected the higher part of iiuman nature 
 as the great object of his inquiries, and treated of the 
 Wdl and the Affections. Mr. Stewart professedly extend- 
 ed his inquiries, and at some length, to both parts of our 
 constitution. He alludes in very clear terms to tlie dis- 
 tinction between them in the introduction of his Philoso- 
 phy of the Active and Moral Powers. •' In my formtr 
 
 work on the Human Mind (he remarks) I confined my at- 
 tention almost exclusively to Man, considered as an Intel- 
 lectual being ] and attempted an analysis of those faculties 
 and powers, which compose that part of his nature com- 
 monly called his intellect or his understanding.''^ 
 
 But it is not to professed writers on these subjects, 
 that we would refer in this case ; the distinction is made 
 by authors, who cannot be supposed to have ever studied 
 the mind as a science. The Roman Historian indcates it, 
 when he informs us, that Mutius Scagvola purposely con- 
 sumed his hand in the fire, and meanwhile exhibited 
 outwardly as little sensibility to suffering, as if his intel- 
 lect were separated frbm the power of feeling, (quam 
 quum velut alienato ab sensu torreret animo.) It is indi- 
 cated also by a later historian of the same great nation, 
 when he says of Cataline, (fuit magna vi animi, sed inge- 
 nio malo pravoque,) that he possessed a vigorous intellect. 
 
no GENERAL CLASSIFICATION. 
 
 but in his disposition was evil and depraved. And we 
 might ask, What historian or poet, of any age or people, 
 has given a faithful sketch of man for any length of time, 
 without being compelled to recognize the same distinc- 
 tion, in what they so uniformly inform us of the strivings 
 of the judgment against the passions, and of the passions 
 against the judgment ? 
 
 §. 13,0. Languages referred to in proof of this generic 
 arrangement. 
 
 It is further worthy of notice, that there is a multi- 
 tude of words in the various dialects of men, which have 
 a relation to the arrangement before us. In our own lan- 
 guage, when the discourse relates to our sentient constitu- 
 tion, we employ the terms, feelings, emotions, desires, 
 passions, affections, inclinations, and the like ; but when 
 it relates to the Understanding, we employ another set of 
 words, viz, perceptions, thoughts, notions, ideas, intellec- 
 tual states, &c. It is true, there are other terms of a 
 
 more general nature, (as when we speak of the states, acts, 
 or exercises of the mind,) which are applied to both clas- 
 ses indiscriminately, but those, which have been mention- 
 ed, are commonly restricted in their application, and are 
 not, as a general statement, interchanged with each other. 
 
 Well may we conclude, therefore, inasmuch as lan- 
 guage is designed by the framers of it to be a sort of repre- 
 sentative of the mind, that the great distinction, which 
 has now been laid down, is well founded. The existence 
 of these distinct classes of terms, which were not framed 
 without an object, and without an adequate reason, can- 
 not be accounted for, except on the ground, that there is 
 a corresponding distinction in the mind's acts. And if 
 there be a distinction in the acts or exercises, there is of 
 course a distinction in the mind itself, a twofold na- 
 ture, the outlines of which, we again venture to assert, 
 will not fail to discover themselves in every individual, 
 in whom the elements of humanity exist in so high a 
 degree as to render him an object of notice at all. 
 
 On any other grounds, what shall we make of the ex- 
 
GENERAL CLASSIFICATION, 171 
 
 pressions, which have been already referred to in eminent 
 writers ? What shall we say, (to take a single instance out 
 of the multitude, that might be brought together,) of the 
 following language of a learned critic,* in relation to a 
 speech of Mr. Fox in Parliament, on the great question of 
 the Slave Trade :— " It is among the happiest productions 
 of a rapid and vigorous intellect, called into action 
 suddenly by the warmth of an honest and noble heart. 
 The FEELING seems all intellect; the intellect all 
 
 FEELING." 
 
 § . 1 3 i . The nature of this classification a matter of con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 The classification, which we are considering, is the 
 more important, because it is founded, not in the mere 
 circumstances attending the origin of the mental states, 
 but in the nature of the states themselves. We feel, we 
 know them to be different. But when we are required 
 to state with precision what the actual difference is be- 
 tween these two classes of the exercises of the soul, it can- 
 not be denied, that the question is more readily proposed, 
 than answered. A man may believe and know himself, 
 (it is very often the case,) what he may find it difficult to 
 communicate, and explain to others. An inability to set 
 forth in words the nature of any particular acts of the 
 soul is not a proof, that those exercises do not exist, or 
 that the condition of one state of the mind does not differ 
 from that of another. 
 
 On the contrary it may be answered in this case, as in 
 others, that every person knows from his consciousness, 
 that great and ultimate guide which Providence has giv- 
 en men, that there is not only a difference, but a radical 
 and essential difference between the two classes. 
 
 No one, for instance, can be supposed to be insensible of 
 this diversity in the mental states, expressed by the 
 terms, truth, belief, certainty, order, equality, and the like, 
 and those, expressed by the terms, pleasure, pain, hope, 
 
 * Edin. Review on Clarkson's History of the Abolitioa of the 
 Slave Trade, July 1808. 
 
173 GENERAL CLASSIFICATION. 
 
 desire,, love, Sic, We refer, therefore, on this point to 
 eacb o;ie s internal experienc'e, to hii own consciousness. 
 
 *v Every ni.in, [says Gondilhic, ^irigin of Knowledge, 
 Pt. :■. CM. I,] is coasciouj of hh lliouglit ; he distinguishes 
 it perfectly from every tiling else ; iie even distinguishes 
 one tlior.ght frojn another ; and that is sufficient. If we 
 go any further, we stray from a point, which' we appre- 
 hend so clearl)^, that it can never lead us into errour.'' 
 
 §. 1S2. Of the different names giie 11 to it. 
 
 It remains to he remarked further, that the explicit 
 and scientific statement of this classification is hy no means 
 new; on the contrary, in its essential features, it has re- 
 peatedly made a formal appearance under various names. 
 Some of these designations will be briefly referred to. 
 
 I, Cognitive and Motive. A long time since, it 
 
 was proposed, particularly by Mr. liobhes, to employ 
 these two words, as ex[>ressive of the general division 
 under consideration. Undoubtedly the epithet coGxM- 
 TiVE, whether w^e consult its etymology or its meaning as 
 established by use, is sufficiently applicable to that part of 
 our mental nature, which regards the mere origin of 
 knowledge, as perception, judgment, reasoning, &c. The 
 term motive, as indicative of the other part of our men- 
 tal constitut on, was i)rObably adopted on the ground, that 
 our emotions, desires, and passions are particularly con- 
 nected with movement or action. This nomenclature 
 seems not, however, to have been generally adopted. 
 
 '• The terms cognitke and motive^ [^'^y^ Mr. Stewart, 
 Elements, Pt. II,] were long ago proposed for tlie same 
 purj)0£e by Hobbes ; but they never appear to have come 
 into general use, and are indeed liable to obvious ob- 
 jections." 
 
 II, The Understanding and Will. The generic 
 
 classification, which we have been considering, has made 
 its appearance also under these names. We have already 
 had occasion to refer to Locke and Edwards ; those dis- 
 tinijuished writers not only recognized the classification 
 in question, and made it the basis of the particular direc- 
 
GENTIRAL CLASSIFICATION. 17S 
 
 tion of their great efforts, but frequently employed this 
 phras;:!o!ogy as expressive of it. Uiider the term Under- 
 standing was incUided the whole intellectual, the thinking 
 and reasoning part of our nature. By tlie Will seems to 
 have been meant that ability, in whatever way it .night 
 exhil.'it itself, which u as sup])bsed to he necessary in bring- 
 ing the mental constitution into action ;' it was the mind's 
 impelling and coistrolling prin"ci})le ; something wliich 
 moved and governed it. To determine precisely, howev- 
 er, wiiat feijlings and operations belonged to the one and 
 what belonged to the other was by no means a matter 
 well settled, but of no small doubt and contention. The 
 desiornation of the arrangement by these names has conse- 
 quentiy fallen into comparative discredit. The word 
 Uf^derstanding, howev^er, is still employed in its original 
 extent, as synonymous with intellect ; the word Will^ with 
 a much restricted signification. 
 
 Ill, Intellectual and Active Powers. For the epi- 
 thet MOTIVE proposed by Hobbes, the term Active has 
 been substituted by some modern writers, partfcularly 
 Reid and Stewart. This epithet, like that for which it 
 was substituted, was probably introduced on the ground, 
 that the sentient part of our nature is immediately and par- 
 ticularly connected with motion, effort, or action. It is prob- 
 ably not meant to be intimated by those who adopt this 
 desiiuation, that the feelings and powers, included under it, 
 possess in themselves moYe activity than others, but are 
 active in the sense of being particidarly connected with, 
 and leading to action; wliicli is undoubtedly the truth. 
 
 §. 1.33. Classification of the intellectual states of the mind. 
 
 For the reasons, which have been given, we find our- 
 selves authorized, in the first place, in considering the 
 states, exercises, or acts of the mind, ("for these terms, the 
 most general we can employ, will apply to both classes,) 
 under the two general heads of Intellectual and Sentient. 
 Our intellectual states of mind, together with their cor- 
 responding susceptibilities and powers, will first come un- 
 der consideration. On looking attentively, however, at 
 
174 GENERAL CLASSIFICATION. 
 
 the intellectual part of our nature, we readily discover, 
 that the results, which are to be attributed to it, are sus- 
 ceptible of a subordinate classification, viz, into intellec- 
 tual STATES of External, and those of Internal origin. 
 
 It is pres umed, that on a little examination this distinc- 
 tion will be sufficiently obvious. If the mind were insu- 
 lated and cut off from the outward world, or if there 
 were no such outward world, could we feel, or see, or 
 hear ? All those mental affections,which we express,when 
 we speak of the diversities of taste and touch, of sound 
 and sight, are utterly dependent on the existence and pres- 
 ence of something, which is exteriour to the intellect it- 
 self. But this cannot be said of what is expressed by the 
 words, truth, falsehood, opinion, intelligence, cause, obli- 
 gation, effect and numerous creations of the intellect of a 
 like kind. 
 
 It is worthy of rem^ark, that the subordinate classifica- 
 tion, which is now proposed to be made, did not escape, in 
 its essential characteristics, the notice of very ancient 
 writers. "We have the authority of Cudworth,* that 
 those intellectual states, which have an internal origin, bore 
 among the Greeks the name of noemata, thoughts or intel- 
 lections ; while those of external origin were called 
 AiSTHEMATA, sensations. Although this classifiation, the 
 grounds of which cannot fail readily to present themselves, 
 has been recognized and sanctioned, in some form or other, 
 by numerous writers on the human mind, some future op- 
 portunity will be found more fully to explain and defend 
 it ; the objections, which have been made, will not be 
 overlooked ; and it will be readily perceived, that we 
 shall be the better prepared for this proposed explanation, 
 after having considered the relation, which the mind sus- 
 tains to the external world by means of the senses, and an- 
 alyzed the knowledge, which has its origin in that source. 
 
 * Cudworth's Immutable Morality, Bk. IV. ch. 1. 
 
PART SECOND. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL STATES OF THE MIND. 
 
 CLASS FIRST, 
 
 INTELLECTUAL STATES OF EXTERNAL ORIGIN. 
 
CHAPTER FIRST. 
 
 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 §. 131. Of the mind considered in itself. 
 
 Having arrived at this point in our inquiries, where 
 we are to start forth on a new track, it is natural to cast a 
 glance back on the road we have gone over ; and it is no 
 exaggeration to say, that we have found grounds of admi- 
 ration and encouragement in what has fallen under our no- 
 tice. We have seen undoubted proof of the greatness of 
 the mind, of the variety of its elementary resources, and of 
 its essential excellence ; and yet we have only gone round 
 it like casual visiters ; we have merely seen the outlines 
 and boundaries ; we have counted the towers and bul- 
 warks at a distance ; and can hardly say, that we have 
 opened the gates, and entered into the inner part of the 
 city. 
 
 The mind of man may be contemplated in itself. As 
 a matter of speculation, such a view of it will do no 
 harm ; although in point of fact, the mind never was, 
 and never can be separated from the relations it sustains 
 to every part of the universe, and to the great Creator of 
 the Universe. As a mere matter of speculation however, 
 we may direct our attention to it, considered as separate 
 from every thing, else ; and there will be found to be 
 something pleasing and exalting in such contemplations. 
 If we suppose its powers to be in their strength and ac- 
 23 
 
173 
 
 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 tivity, and at the same time exclude the consideration of 
 every thing exteriour, which might be imagined to be the 
 cause of this activity, the mind has the appearance of be- 
 ing a self-supplying, and original energy. It seems to us 
 like the sun in the heavens, a perpetual fountain-head of 
 illumination, streaming outward in every direction, and 
 overflowing all things with brightness. 
 
 Plato among the ancients, and Malebranche among the 
 moderns seem to have been pleased with taking this view; 
 those peculiar traits of thought, which are ascribed to 
 them, may be accounted for in part on the ground of a 
 great retirement into themselves, and a predominant love 
 of interiour inspection. And certainly to a serious and 
 contemplative mind, there is something peculiarly fascina- 
 ting in this course. When men are sick of th^ world 
 without, as they often find occasion to be, there is alv/ays 
 a world within, in which they can seclude themselves. 
 In the indulgence of this inward retirement, they hav'e an 
 opportunity not only to search out the mind's hidden 
 treajjures of thought, emotion, and energy, but to contem- 
 plate also the marks and signatures of that divine and 
 more glorious Intelligence from whom it came. 
 
 §. 135. Connection oj the mind with the material icorld. 
 
 But after all, the speculations referred to in the last sec- 
 tion will be likely to lead us astray, and to give a distort- 
 ed view of the mind, if they are pursued too far, or are 
 not limited, and guarded with sufficient care. An entire 
 separation of the soul and its action from every thing 
 else is merely a supposition, an hypothesis, which is not 
 realized in our present state of being. What the soul will 
 be in a future state of existencs is of course another in- 
 quiry. It is possible, that it may be disburdened, more 
 than it is in this life, of connections and dependencies, and 
 will possess more freedom and energy ; but it seems to be 
 our appropriate business at present to examine it, as we 
 find it here. 
 
 Whatever Providence may have in reserve for us in a 
 future state, it is obvious, that in our present existence it 
 
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 179 
 
 has designed, and established an intimate connection be- 
 tween tlie soul, and the material world. We have a wit- 
 ness of this in the mere fact of the existence of an exter- 
 nal creation. Was all this visible creation made for 
 nought ? Are the flowers not only of the wilderness, but 
 of the cultivated place, formed merely to waste their 
 sweetness on the desert air ? Are those harmonical sounds 
 and ravishing touches, that come forth from animate and 
 inanimate nature, uttered, and breathed out in vain ? Can 
 we permit ourselves to suppose, that the symmetry of 
 form, every where existing in the outward world, the rela- 
 tions and aptitudes, the beauties of proportion, and the 
 decorations of colours exist without any object ? And yet 
 this must be so, if there be no connection between the 
 soul of man and outward objects. What would be pro- 
 portion, what would be colour, what would be harmony 
 of sound without the soul, to which they are addressed, 
 and from which they are acknowledged to derive their 
 efficacy ? Where there is no soul, where there is a 
 deprivation and want of the conscious spirit, there is no 
 sight, no hearing, no touch, no sense of beauty. Ev- 
 ery thing depends on the mind ; the senses are merely the 
 medium of communication, the conditions and helps of the 
 perceptions, and not the perceptions themselves. 
 
 With such considerations w^e justify what has been 
 said that Providence designed, and established an inti- 
 mate connection between the soul, and the material 
 world. 
 
 And there is another train of thought, which leads to 
 the same conclusion. On any other supposition than the 
 existence of such a connection, we cannot account for 
 that nice and costly apparatus of the nerves and organs of 
 sense, with which wjd are furnished. Although we be- 
 hold on every side abundant marks of the Creator's good- 
 ness, we may safely say, he does nothing in vain. The 
 question then immediately recurs. What is the meaning 
 of the expenditure of the Divine goodness in the forma- 
 tion of the eye, in the windings and ingenious construc- 
 tion of the ear, and in the diffusion of the sense of 
 
180 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 touch ? We cannot give a satisfactory answer to this 
 question, except on the ground, that there is a designed 
 and established connection between the mind, and the 
 material world. If we admit the existence of this connec- 
 tion, every thing is at once explained. 
 
 §.136. Of the origin or beginnings of knowledge. 
 
 The Creator, therefore, established the relation between 
 mind and matter ; and it is a striking and important fact, 
 that, in this connection of the mental and material world, 
 we are probably to look for the commencement of the 
 mind's activity, and for the beginnings of knowledge. 
 The soul considered, in its relationship to external nature, 
 may be compared to a stringed instrument. Regarded in 
 itself, it is an invisible existence, having the capacity and 
 elements of harmony. The nerves, the eye, and the sen- 
 ses generally are the chords and artificial frarne-work, 
 which God has woven round its unseen and unsearchable 
 essence. This living and curious instrument, which was 
 before voiceless and silent, sends forth its sounds of har- 
 mony, as soon as it is swept by outward influences. But 
 this, it will be noticed, is a general statement ; the mean- 
 ing may not be perfectly obvious, and it will be necessary 
 to descend to some particulars. 
 
 There are certain elementary notions, which seem to be 
 involved in, and inseparable from our very existence, such 
 as self, identity, &c. The supposition would be highly 
 unreasonable, that we can exist for any length of time 
 without possessing them. It is certain, that these notions 
 are among the earliest, which men form ; and yet cautious 
 and judicious inquirers into the mind have expressed the 
 opinion, that even these do not arise, except subsequently 
 to an impression on the organs of sense. 
 
 Speaking of a being, whom, for the sake of illustra- 
 tion, he supposes to be possessed of merely the two senses 
 of hearing and smelling, Mr. Stewart makes this remark. 
 — " Let us suppose then a particular sensation to be exci- 
 ted in the mind of such a being. The moment this hap- 
 pens he must necessarily acquire the knowledge of two 
 
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. ]81 
 
 facts at once ; tliat of the existence of the sensation, and 
 tliat of his oion existence^ as a sentient being."* This lan- 
 guage clearly implies, that the notions of existence and of 
 person or self are attendant upon, and subsequent to an af- 
 fection of the mind, caused by an impression on the sen- 
 ses. In his Essays he still more clearly and decisively 
 advances the opinion, that the, mind is originally brought 
 into action through the medium of the senses, and that 
 
 human knowledge has its origin in this v^^ay. "All our 
 
 simple notions, (he says, Essay III,) or, in other words, 
 all the primary elements of our knowledge are either pre- 
 sented to the mind immediately by the powers of con- 
 sciousness and perception, or they are gradually unfolded 
 in the exercise of the various faculties, which characterize 
 the human understanding. According to this view of the 
 subject, the sum total of our knowledge may undoubted- 
 ly be said to originate in sensation, inasmuch as it is by im- 
 pressions from without, that consciousness is first awak- 
 ened, and the different faculties of the understanding put 
 in action."! 
 
 Perhaps this subject, however, will always remain in 
 some degree of doubt ; and we have merely to say, that of 
 the various opinions, which have been advanced in respect 
 to it, we give the preference to that which has been refer- 
 red to, as supported by Stewart, De Gerando, and other 
 judicious writers, without any disposition to assert its 
 infallibility. The mind appears at its creation to be mere- 
 ly an existence, involving certain principles, and endued 
 with certain powers, but dependent for the first and orig- 
 inal developement of those principles and the exercise of 
 those powers on the condition of an outward impression. 
 But after it has once been brought into action, it finds 
 new sources of thought and feeling in itself. 
 
 ^-Philosophy of the Human Mind, Vol. I, ch. 1. See also §.§. 17, 18 
 of this. Work. 
 
 fViews, similar to those of Mr. Stewart, are maintained by De 
 Gerando in a memoir, entitled De la Generation des Connoisances 
 Humaines. 
 
182 ORIGIN OF KOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 §. ]37. Our first knowledge in general of a material or 
 external origin. 
 
 If we know not how a single leaf is formed, and are 
 baffled) when we attempt to explain the growth even of 
 a blade of grass, it is not surprising, that we should fail of 
 absolute certainty in explaining the first cause of the 
 mind's action, and the history of the first feeling, to which 
 it gives birth. But whatever mav'be true of the first men- 
 tal exercise, whether its existence be dependent on the 
 condition of some external impression on the senses or not, 
 it may be shown beyond doubt, that during the early pe- 
 riod of life the connection of the mind with the materi- 
 al world is particularly close, and that far the greater por- 
 tion of its acts and feelings can be traced to that 
 source. 
 
 I, — What has been said will, in the first place, be 
 found agreeable to each one's individual experience. If 
 we look back to the early periods of life, we discover not 
 merely, that our ideas are then comparatively few in num- 
 ber, but that far the greater proportion of them are sug- 
 gested by external objects. They are forced upon us by 
 our immediate wants ; they have relation to what w^e 
 ourselves see, or hear, or touch ; and only a small pro- 
 portion are internal and abstract. As we advance in years, 
 susceptibilities and powers of the mind are brought into 
 exercise, which have a less intimate connection with things 
 external ; and thoughts from within are more rapidly 
 multiplied, than from without. We have in some meas- 
 ure exhausted that which is external, and as the mind, 
 awakened to a love of knowledge and a consciousness of 
 its powers, has at last been brought fully into action, by 
 means of repeated afiections of the senses, a new world, 
 (as yet in some degree a terra incognita,) projects itself 
 upon our attention, where we are called upon to push 
 our researches, and gratify our curiosity. — This is the 
 general experience, the testimony, which each bne can give 
 for himself. 
 
 Jn the second place, what has been said finds con£r- 
 
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 183 
 
 matioji in what we observe of the progress of the mind 
 in infants and children generally. The course of things, 
 which we observe in them agrees with what our person- 
 al consciousness and remembrance, as far back as it goes, 
 enables us to testify with no little confidence in our own 
 case. No one can observe the operations of the mind in 
 infants and children, without being led to believe, that 
 the creator has instituted a connection between the mind 
 and the materal world, and that the greater portion 
 of our early knowledge is from an outward source. 
 
 To the infant its nursery is the world. The first 
 ideas of the human race are its particular conceptions of 
 its nurse and mother ; and the origin and history of all 
 its notions may be traced to its animal wants, to the light 
 that breaks in from its window, and to the few objects in 
 the immediate neighborhood of the cradle and hearth. 
 When it has become a few years of age, there are other 
 sources of information, other fountains of thought, but 
 they are still external and material. The child then learns 
 the topography of his native village ; he explores the 
 margin of its river, ascends its flowering hills, and pene- 
 trates the seclusion of its vallies. Uis mind is full of ac- 
 tivity ; new and exalting views crowd upon his percep- 
 tions ; he beholds, and hears, and handles ; he wonders, 
 and is delighted. And it is not till after he has grasped 
 the elem.ents of knowledge, Vt^hich the outward world 
 gives, that he retires within himself, compares, reasons, 
 and seeks for causes and effects. 
 
 It is in accordance with what has now been stated of 
 the tendencies of mind in children, that we generally find 
 them instructed by means of sensible objects, or by pic- 
 tures of such objects. When their teachers make an ab- 
 stract statement to them of an action or event, they do 
 not understand it ; they listen to it with an appearance of 
 confusion and vacancy, for the process is undoubtedly 
 against nature. But show them the objects themselves, 
 or a faithful picture of them, and interpret your abstract 
 expressions by a reference to the object or picture, and 
 they are observed to learn with rapidity and pleasure. 
 
184 
 
 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 The tiine has not yet arrived for the springing up and 
 growth of thoughts of an internal and abstract origin. 
 
 §. 138. Fiiiher proof of the beginnings of knowledge from 
 external causes. 
 
 In the third place, the history of language is a strong 
 proof of the correctness of the position, that the mind is 
 first brought into action by means of the senses, and ac- 
 quires its earliest knowledge from that source. At first 
 words are few in number, corresponding to the limited 
 extent of ideas. The vocabulary of savage tribes, (those 
 for example which inhabit the American continent,) is in 
 general exceedingly limited. The growth of a language 
 corresponds to the growth of mind ; it extends itself by 
 the increased number and power of its words, nearly in 
 exact correspondence with the multiplication and the in- 
 creased complexity of thought. Now the history of all 
 languages teaches us, that words, which were invented 
 and brought into use one after another in the gradual way 
 just mentioned, were first employed to express external 
 objects, and afterwards were used to express thoughts of 
 internal origin. It is an evidence of the correctness of 
 this remark, that the words of a language are found to 
 vary with the scenery, climate, and natural productions, 
 to which those who speak it have been accustomed. If 
 language were framed in the first instance to express 
 thoughts of internal instead of external origin, the grounds 
 of variationiwould be different. 
 
 Some writer remarks, that among the Bosch uanas of 
 South Africa, who live in a parched and arid country, the 
 word PULO, which literally signifies r«w, is the only term 
 they have to express a blessing or blessings. But there 
 may be blessings internal as well as external, goods and 
 joys of the mind, as well as of the body ; still in the lan- 
 guage of these Africans, it is all rain ; the blessings of hope 
 and peace, and friendship, and submission, and all other 
 modes of intellectual and sentient good, are nothing but 
 rain. 
 
 There are ihousands of instances of this kind. Al - 
 
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 185 
 
 most all the words in every language, expressive of the 
 susceptibilities and operations of the mind, may be clearly 
 shown to have had an external origin and a[)plication, be- 
 fore they were applied to the mind. To imagine in its 
 literal signification implies the forming of a picture ; to 
 IMPRESS conveys the idea of leaving a stamp or mark, as 
 the seal leaves its exact likeness or stamp on wax ; to re- 
 flect literally means to turn back, to go over the ground 
 again ; &c. These words cannot be applied to the mind 
 in the literal sense ; the nature of the mind will not ad- 
 mit of such an application ; the inference theiefore is, 
 that they first had an external application. Now if it 
 be an established truth, that all language has a primary 
 reference to external objects, and that there is no term, 
 expressive of mental acts, which was not originally ex- 
 pressive of something material, the conclusion would 
 seem to be a fair one, that the part of our knowledge, 
 which has its rise by means of the senses, is, as a gener- 
 al statement, first in origin. And the more so, when we 
 combine with these views the considerations, which have 
 been previously advanced. 
 
 §. 139. The same subject further illustrated. 
 
 And, in the fourth place, it is not too much to say, 
 that all the observations, which have been made on per- 
 sons wlio from their birth, or at any subsequent period, 
 have been deprived of any of the senses, and all the extra- 
 ordinary facts, which have come to knowledge, having a 
 bearing on this inquiry go strongly in favour of the 
 
 views which have been given. -It appears, for instance, 
 
 from the observations, Vrdiich have been made in regard 
 to persons, who have been deaf until a particular period, 
 and then have been restored to the power of hearing, 
 that they have never previously had those ideas, which 
 naturally come in by that sense. If a person has been 
 born blind the result is the same ; or if having the sense 
 of sight, it has so happened, that he has never seen any 
 colours of a particular description. In the one case, he 
 has no ideas of colours at all, and in the other, only of 
 24 
 
186 
 
 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 those colours which he has seen. — It maybe said perhaps, 
 that this is what might be expected, and merely proves the 
 senses to be a source of knowledge, without necessarily 
 involving the priority of that knowledge to what has an 
 internal origin. But then observe the persons referred to 
 a little further, and it will be found, as a general statement, 
 that the powers of their mind have not been unfolded ; 
 they lay wrapt up in a great measure in their original 
 darkness ; no inward light springs up to compensate for 
 the absence of that, which in ofher cases bursts in from the 
 outward world. This circumstance evidently tends to 
 confirm the principle we are endeavoring to illustrate. 
 
 Of those extraordinary instances, to which we allu- 
 ded, as having thrown some light on the history of our in- 
 tellectual acquisitions, is the account, which is given in the 
 Memoirs of the French Academy of Sciences for the year 
 1703, of a deaf and dumb young man in the city of Char- 
 tres. At the age of three and twenty, it so happened, to 
 the great surprise of the whole town, that he was sudden- 
 ly restored to the sense of hearing, and in a short time he 
 acquired the use of language. Deprived for so long a pe- 
 riod of a sense, which in importance ranks with the sight 
 and the touch, unable to hold communion with his fellow 
 beings by means of oral or written language, and not par- 
 ticularly compelled, as he had every care taken of him 
 by his friends and relations, to bring his faculties into ex- 
 ercise, the powers of his mind remained without having 
 opportunity to unfold themselves. Being examined by 
 some men of discernment, it was found that he had no 
 idea of a God, of a soul, of the moral merit or demerit 
 of human actions, and what might seem to be yet more 
 remarkable, he knew not what it was to die ; the agonies 
 of dissolution, the grief of friends, and the ceremonies 
 of interment being to him inexplicable mysteries. 
 
 Here w^e see how much knowledge a person was deprived 
 of, merely by his wanting the single sense of hearing ; 
 a proof that the senses were designed by our Creator 
 to be the first source of knowledge, and that without 
 
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 187 
 
 them the faculties of the soul would never become opera- 
 tive. 
 
 But this is not the only instance of this sort, which in- 
 genious men have noticed and recorded. In the Trans- 
 actions of the Royal Society at Edinburgh, (Vol. vii. Pt, 
 ].,) is a Memoir communicated by Dugald Stewart, 
 which gives an account of James Mitchell, a boy born 
 deaf and bUnd. The history of this lad, who labored un- 
 der the uncommon affliction of this double deprivation, 
 illustrates and confirms all, that has been above stated. 
 He made what use he could of the only senses which he 
 possessed, those of touch, taste, and smell, and gained from 
 them a number of ideas. It was a proof of the diligence 
 with which he employed the limited means, which were 
 given him, that he had by the sense of touch thoroughly 
 explored the ground in the neighborhood of the house, 
 where he lived, for hundreds of yards. But deprived of 
 sight, of hearing, arid of intercourse by speech, it was 
 very evident to those, who observed him, as might be ex- 
 pected, that his knowledge was in amount exceedingly 
 small. He was destitute of those perceptions, which are 
 appropriate to the particular senses, of which he was de- 
 prived ; and also of many other notions of an internal 
 origin, which would undoubtedly have arisen, if the 
 powers of the mind had previously been rendered fully 
 operative by means of those assistances, which it usually re- 
 ceives from the bodily organs. Such instances as these, 
 
 however they may at first apj^ear, are extremely impor* 
 tant. They furnish us with an appeal, not to mere specu- 
 lations, but to fact. And it is only by checking undue 
 speculation and by continually recurring to facts, that 
 our progress in this science will become sure, rapid, and 
 delightful.* 
 
 *The statements concerning- the young man of Chartres are partic- 
 ularly examined in Condiilac's Essay on the origin of Knovvledg-e at 
 Section fourth of Part first. The interesting Memoir of Stewart has 
 recently been repuhlished in the third volume of his Eilements of the 
 Philosophy of the Human Mind. 
 
183 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 §. 140. Of connatural or innate k.iowledge. 
 
 The considerations of this chapter naturally bring us 
 upon the question of innate or connatural knowledge. It 
 was formerly maintained by certain writers, that there 
 are in the minds of men ideas and propositions, which are 
 not acquired or taught at any time, or in any way, but 
 fire coetaneous v/ith the existence of the mind itself, be- 
 ing wrought into, and inseparable from it. It was main- 
 tained that they are limited to no one class, neither to 
 the rich nor the poor, neither to the learned nor the ig- 
 norant, to no clime and to no country, but all participate 
 in them alike. These propositions and ideas, being coe- 
 taneous with the existence of the soul, and being there es- 
 tablished at the commencement of its existence by the or- 
 dinance of the Deity, were regarded as the first princr- 
 ples of knowledge, and as the rules, by which men were 
 to be guided in all their reasonings about natural and mor- 
 al subjects. 
 
 From these innate and original propositions the follow- 
 ing may be selected as specimens of the whole; — (I) Of the 
 natural kind. The whole is greater than a part ; What- 
 ever is, is ; It is impossible for the same thing to be and 
 not to be at the same time and in the same sense. — (2) Of 
 the moral kind, Parents must be honored; Injury must 
 
 not be done ; Contracts should be fulfilled, &c. (3) Of 
 
 the religious kind. There is a God ; God is to be worship- 
 ped ; God will approve virtue and punish vice. 
 
 §. 141. The doctrine of innate knowledge not susceptible of proof. 
 
 It will not be deemed necessary to spend much time on 
 this subject, or to enter into any length of investigation. 
 There is an utter absence of all satisfactory evidence, that 
 there is in men any amount of knowledge whatever, an- 
 swering to this description. The prominent argument, 
 brought forward by the supporters of this doctrine, was 
 this, that all mankind, without exception, and from the 
 earliest period of our being able to form an acquaintance 
 iwith their minds,exhibit a knowledge of ideas and proposi- 
 
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 189 
 
 tions of this kind ^and that this universal knowledge of them 
 cannot be accounted for, except on the ground of their 
 being coetaneous with the mind's existence, and originally 
 implanted in it. Now if we admit that all men are ac- 
 quainted with them and assent to them, this by no means 
 proves them innate, so long as we can account for thii ac- 
 quaintance and this assent in some other way. It is grnnt- 
 ed by all, that the mind exists, that it is capable of action, 
 and that it possesses the power or the ability of acquiring 
 knowledge. If, therefore, in the exercise of this ability,, 
 which all admit it to have, we can come to the knowl- 
 edge of what are called innate or connatural ideas and. 
 propositions, it is unnecessary to assign to them anoth^ 
 er origin, in support of which no positive proof can be 
 brought. 
 
 But the truth is, that all men are not acquainted with 
 the ideas and propositions in question, and especially do 
 not exhibit such an acquaintance from the first dawn of 
 their knowledge as would be the case if they were con- 
 natural in the mind. The supposed fact, on which this 
 argument is founded, is a mere assumption ; it has never 
 been confirmed by candid and careful inquiry, which 
 ought to be done, before it is made use of as proof, nor 
 is it susceptible of such confirmation. 
 
 Every enumeration of innate propositions embraces 
 the following. That all men have a notion of a God ; 
 and undoubtedly if there be any one, which has a claim 
 to universality and early developement, it is this. But 
 in point of fact we know, that all men are not acquainted 
 with this notion ; the testimony of travellers among un- 
 civilized nations has been given again and again, that there 
 is not such an universal acquaintance ; but on the contrary 
 whole tribes of men in different parts of the world are 
 found to be destitute of it. There is also a class o£ unfor- 
 tunate persons to be found in civilized and christian na- 
 tions, (we have the reference to the deaf and dumb, those 
 in the situation of the young man of Chartres,) w^ho wull 
 throw light on this subject, if men will but take the pains 
 to examine those, who have in no way received reli- 
 
190 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL 
 
 gious instruction. There is reason to believe, that in many 
 cases they will be found utterly without a knowledge of 
 their Creator. 
 
 Massieu was the son of a poor shepherd in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Bourdeaux. Destitute from birth of the 
 sense of hearing, and as a natural consequence, of the 
 power of speech, he grew up, and knew barely enough to 
 enable him to watch his father's flock in the fields. Al- 
 though his capacity was afterwards fully proved to be of 
 the most comprehensive and splendid character, as it was 
 not then drawn out and brought into action, he appeared 
 in early life to be little above an idiot. In this situation 
 he was takeo under the care of the benevolent Sicard, who 
 was able after great labor and ingenuity, to quicken by de- 
 grees the slumbering power of thought into developement 
 and activity. Did his instructer suppose, that Massieu 
 was acquainted with the notion of a God ? — Far from it ; 
 he had abundant evidence to the contrary; nor did he 
 even undertake to teach him that vast idea for some time. 
 He directed his attention at fii^st to knowledge more obvi- 
 ous and accessible in its origin ; he led him, in perfect 
 consistency with what is required by the nature and laws 
 of the mind, by easy steps from one degree of knowledge 
 to another, till he supposed him capable of embracing 
 the glorious conception of a First Cause. Then he con- 
 trived to arouse his attention and anxiety; he introduced 
 him to a train of thought, which would naturally bring 
 him to the desired result ; he had previously taught him 
 the relation of cause and effect ; and on this occasion he 
 showed him his watch, and by signs gave him to under- 
 stand that it implied a designer and maker ; and tlie 
 same of a picture, a piece of statuary, a book, a building, 
 and other objects, indicative of design. Then he held 
 up before him a chain, showing him how one link was 
 connected with and dependent on another ; in this way 
 lie introduced into the mind of Massieu the complex no- 
 tion of a mutual dependence and concatenation of causes. 
 At last the full idea, the conception of a primary, self-ex- 
 istent and self-energetic cause, the notion of a God came, 
 
OPJGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 191 
 
 like light from heaven, into his astonished and rejoicing 
 souL He trembled, says his historian, he was deeply af- 
 fected, prostrated himself, and gave signs of reverence 
 and adoration. And wh^n he arose, he uttered by signs 
 also, for he had no other language, these beautiful words, 
 which his instructer declared he should never forget. Ah ! 
 Let me go to my father, to my mother, to my brothers, to 
 tell them of a God ; they know him not.* 
 
 Such facts and instances settle this question ; they 
 prove, that the doctrine of inborn and connatural knowl- 
 edge is unfounded ; and may we not add, that they are in 
 perfect accordance with a v.^ell known passage of the 
 Apostle Paul ; The invisible tilings of God, from the creation 
 of the world, are clearly seen, heing understood by the things that 
 are made, even his eternal power and Godhead. 
 
 ^. 142. The discussion of this subject superseded and 
 unnecessary. 
 
 It is an additional reason for not entering with more 
 fulness and particularity into this inquiry, that the doctrine 
 of innate or connatural knowledge has been frequently 
 discussed at length and refuted ; particularly by Gassen- 
 di and Locke, and more recvintly by De Gerando. This 
 being the case, and public sentiment at the same time de- 
 cidedly rejecting it, it cannot be supposed that every wri- 
 ter on the human mind is called upon to introduce the 
 subject anew, to go over the train of argument, and slay a 
 victim already thrice slain. Let us ask. Are we called up- 
 on at the present day to consider and refute every wild 
 notion, which has ever been proposed ? On that ground 
 we should not stop here ; we must follow Locke further, 
 and undertake a confutation of the doctrine of Male- 
 branche, that we see all things in God ; we must follow 
 Reid in his laboured and conclusive overthrow of the long 
 established opinion, that we know nothing of the material 
 world, except by means of iilmy images or pictures, actu- 
 ally thrown off from outward objects, and lodged in the 
 
 * See the work ofSicard, entitled Cours D' Instruction d'un Sourd- 
 Muet de Naissance, Chap. XXV. 
 
192 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 sensorium. But such a course will be purposely avoided ; 
 it would be alike toilsome and unsatisfactory ; it would be 
 as unreasonable as to require from every author in Natu- 
 ral Philosophy a new confutation of the Alchemists, and 
 to exact from every modern astronomer a like renewed 
 discomlilure of long since exploded theories of the heav- 
 enly motions. Mr. Locke himself seems willing to admit, 
 that the discussion does not naturally and necessarily make 
 apart of Mental Philosophy ; and gives us clearly to un- 
 derstand that it holds so conspicuous a place in his essay, 
 merely from the accidental circumstance of the preva- 
 lence in his own time of the errour, which he confuted. 
 Accordingly when he prepared an abstract or abridgement 
 of that work for Le Clare's B'tbliotheque Universelle, he 
 omitted the whole of the Book on Innate Ideas. 
 
 Furthermore, the whole system of Mr. Locke, (and 
 the same may be said of the views of Reid, Stewart, De 
 Gerando, and B^own, who cannot be considered in the 
 prominent outlines of their doctrines as essentially differ- 
 ing from him,) is an indirect, but conclusive argument 
 against connatural knowledge. If the principles, which they 
 advance, be right, the doctrine of innate knowledge is 
 of course wrong, and requires no direct refutation. 
 
 The farmer sees the corn full c^rown and waving: in his 
 field ; but he knows it would not have been there, had he 
 not scattered the seed ; it has not become what it is, whol- 
 ly independent of an external agency. And if the mind, 
 like the earth, possesses a natural fertility and capacitv of 
 producing, still the results, of which it is capable, can 
 as little be realized, except on certain conditions, as the 
 earth can give out the waving cornfield without the pre- 
 vious planting of the seed. Something is requisite to 
 bring the mind into action, and to keep it in action ; it 
 requires the operation of influences from within and with- 
 out, the atmosphere, the genial rains and the gentle 
 breezes, as well as its own internal laws and powers of 
 growth ; and then the tender plant of thought comes 
 forth ; it grows high and shoots out its branches ; it is 
 clothed with leaves, and beautified with flowers, and iu 
 i^ue season bears the ripe fruit. 
 
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 193 
 
 §. T42. Further remarks on the rise of knowledge by means 
 of the senses.- 
 
 Considering it, therefore, as settled, that there is no 
 connatural knowledge, Ave recuiwith increased coiifideiice 
 to the principle, which has been laid down in this cliaptei*, 
 that tiie mind is first brought into action by the intermedia- 
 tion of the senses, and that the greater part of its earliest 
 knowledge is from an external source. The consid- 
 erations, that have been adduced in support of this doc- 
 trine, are obvious and weighty ; they account with much 
 probability for the very beginnings of thought nnd feeling, 
 and are entirely decisive of the character of our early ac- 
 quisitions in general. The subject, however, is stil open 
 to reflection and if it were needful, riiight be placed in 
 other lights. 
 
 Let us then Kuppo:^e a man erttirely cot off fiOkU all 
 outward material iinpressions, or what is the same thing, 
 with his senses entirely closed. It is very obvious, and 
 the instances already brought forward clearly prove, that 
 he would be entirely deprived of that vast amount of 
 knowledge, which has an iinmediate connection with the 
 semses. But this is not all ; there are other ideas, whose 
 connection wath the senses are less immediate, of which he 
 would not fail to be deprived, by being placed in the cir- 
 cumstances supposed. Even if he should possess the idea 
 of existence, and of himself a- a thinking and sentient be- 
 ing, (although we cannot well imagine hov/ this fhould be, 
 independently of some impression on the senses,) fctill we 
 have no reason to believe that he would know any thing 
 of space, of motion, of succession, of duration, of the 
 place of objects, of time, &c. 
 
 Now it will be noticed, that these are elementary 
 thoughts of great importance ; such as are rightly consid- 
 ered essential to the appropriate action of the mind, and 
 to its advancement in knowledge. What could he 
 knotv of time, without a knowledge of day and night, 
 the rising and setting sun, the changes of the seasons, or 
 
 some other of its measurements ! What could he know 
 
 ^3 
 
194 ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL. 
 
 of motion, while utterly unable to form the idea of place! 
 And what could he know of place without the aid of the sen- 
 ses ! And under such circumstances,what reasoning would 
 he be capable of, further than to form the single proposi- 
 tion, that his feelings whatever they might be, belonged 
 to himself! 
 
 Look at the subject as we will, we must at last come to 
 the conclusion, that the connection of the mind with the 
 material world by means of the senses is the basis, to a 
 great extent at least, of our early mental history, and the 
 only key, that can unlock its explanation. A sketch of 
 that part of the mind's history, without a reference to its 
 relation to matter, would infallibly be foimd vague, im- 
 perfect, and false. — Let it suffice then to add here, that man 
 is what he is in fact, and what he is designed to be in the 
 present life, only by means of this connection. He can- 
 not free himself from it, if he would ; and if he should 
 succeed in the attempt, it would only result in self pros- 
 tration and imbecility. The forms of matter, operating 
 through the senses, press, as it were, on the soul's secret 
 power of harmony, and it sends forth the answer of its 
 thought and feeling. The material creation,where Provi- 
 dence has fixed our dwelling place, and this earthly tene- 
 ment of our bodies form the first scene of the mind's de- 
 velopement, the first theatre of its exercises, where it puts 
 forth and enacts the incipient part in the great drama of 
 its struggles, growth, and triumphs. 
 
CHAPTER SECOND. 
 
 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 9. 143. Sensation a simple mental state originating in the 
 senses. 
 
 In tracing the history of that portion of human 
 thought, which is of external origin, we have frequent 
 occasion to make use of the words Sensation and Percep- 
 tion. The term sensation is not of so general a nature 
 as to include every variety of mental state, but is limited 
 to such as answer to a particular description. It does not 
 appear, that the usage of language would forbid our speak- 
 ing of the feelings of warmth and coldness and hardness^ 
 as well as o£ the feelings of love and benevolence and anger, 
 but it would clearly forbid our using the t^rm SEitsATioN 
 with an application equally extensive. Its application is 
 not only limited, but is fixed with a considerable degree of 
 precision. 
 
 Sensation, being a simple act or state of the mind, is 
 unsusceptible of definition ; and this is one of its charac- 
 teristics. As this alone, however ,would not separate it from 
 many other mental states, it has this peculiarity to distin- 
 guish it, that it is immediately successive to a change in 
 some organ of sense, or at least to a bodily change of 
 some kind. But it is evident, that in respect to numerous 
 other feelings this statement does not hold good. They 
 are immediately subsequent, not to bodily impressions, but 
 to other states of the soul itself. Hence it is, that while 
 
196 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 we speak of the sensations of heat and cold, hardness, ex- 
 tension, and the like, we do not commonly appiy this 
 term to joy and sorrow, hatred and love, and other emo- 
 tions and passions. 
 
 §. 144. Jill sensation is properly and truly in the mind. 
 
 Sensation is often regarded as something having a po- 
 sition, and as taking place in the body, and particularly 
 in the organ of sense. The sensation of touch, as we 
 seem to imagine, is in the hand, which is the organ of 
 touch, and is not truly internal ; the hearing is in the ear, 
 anct the vision in the eye, and not in the soul. But it will 
 at once occur, that this supposition, however widely and 
 generally it may be made, is altogether at variance with 
 those essential notions, which we have found it necessary 
 to form of matter. If the matter of the hand, of the eye, 
 or ear can have feeling in any degree whatev^er, there is 
 no difficulty in the supposition, that the matter of the 
 brain, or any other material substance can put forth the 
 exercises and functions of thought. But after what has 
 been already said on the subject of the mind's immaterial- 
 ity, tills supposition is altogether inadmissible. All we 
 can say with truth and on good grounds is, that the or- 
 gans of sense ai*e accessory to sensation and necessary to 
 it, bvit the sensation or feeling itself is wholly in the mind. 
 Ho V often it is sail] the eye isea^? ; but the proper lan- 
 ^(u.'^e is thes ul sees, for the eye i^" ouiy tne organ, instru- 
 merjt, or miaisler of the soul in visual perceptions. 
 
 'A inan, (says Or Reid,) cannot seethe satellites of Ju- 
 piter hut 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 absur 1. 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, Jput it 
 sees not. Th ^ eye is a natural organ of sight, by which 
 we see ; but the natui al organ sees as little as the arti- 
 jificial. ' 
 
 Among other things, illustrative of the correctness of 
 vwhat has been said, there is this consideration also. The 
 
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 197 
 
 opinion, that sensation is in the organ or some other mate- 
 rial part and^not in the^'soul, is inconsistent with the funda- 
 mental and indisputable doctrine] of mental identity. 
 *' When I say,' I see, I hear, I feel, (says the same judi- 
 dious author,) this implies, that it is one and the same 
 self, that performs all these operations. And as it would 
 be absurd to say that my memory, another man's imagi- 
 nation, and a third man's reason may make one individual 
 intelligent being ; it would be equally absurd to say, that 
 one piece of matter seeing, another hearing, and a third 
 feeling, may make one and the same percipient being."* 
 
 Although the opinion, that sensation is^notjn the mind 
 but in the body, is unfounded, it is perhaps not surpri- 
 sing, that such a belief should have arisen. If the hand 
 be palsied, there is no sensation of touch ; if the ear be 
 stopped, there is no sensation of hearing ; if the eye be 
 closed, there is no vision ; hence it happens that when we 
 have these sensations, we are led to think of the organ or 
 part of the bodily system, with the origin of which they 
 are connected. When we feel a pain arising from an ex- 
 ternal cajse, it is a natura', and often a useful curiosity, 
 which endeavours to learn the particular place in the body, 
 which is affected. This, which we are generally able to 
 ascertain, always arrests our attention more or .less. In 
 this way we gradually form a very strong association ; and 
 almost unconsciously transfer the place of the inward sensa- 
 tion to that outward part, with which we have so frequent- 
 ly connected it in our thoughts. Although this is clearly 
 a mere follacy, the circumstance of its being a plausible 
 and tenacious one renders it the more necessary to guard 
 against it. 
 
 §. 145. Sensations are not images or resemblances «^c. 
 of objects. 
 
 r But while we are careful to assign sensations their true 
 place in the mind, and to look upon what is outward in 
 the body as merely the antecedents or causes of them, it 
 
 * Reid's Intellectual Powers, Essay II. 
 
198 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 is a matter^of some consequence to guard against a danger 
 directly the reverse of that, which has been remarked 
 on. We are apt to transfer to the sensation, considered 
 as existing in the mind, some of those qualities, which be- 
 long to the external object. But in point of fact our 
 sensations are by no means copies, pictures, or images of 
 outward objects ; nor are they representations of them in 
 any material sense whatever ; nor do they possess any of 
 their .qualities. 
 
 It is true, we often think it otherwise ; constantly oc- 
 cupied with external objects, when in the act of contempla- 
 tion we retire within the mind, we unwarily carry with us 
 the form and qualities of matter, and stamp its likeness on 
 the thought itself. But the thought, whatever it may by 
 the constitution of our nature be the sign of, has no form, 
 and presents no image analogous to what are outwardly 
 objects of touch and sight ; nor has it form or image in 
 any sense, which w6 can conceive of. When, there- 
 fore, we have an idea of some object as round, we 
 are not to infer from the existence of the quality in 
 the outward object, that the mental state is possessed of 
 the same quality ; when w^e think of any thing as extend- 
 ed, it is not to be supposed, that the thought itself has ex- 
 tension ; when we behold and admire the varieties of col- 
 our, we are not at liberty to indulge the presumption, 
 that the inward feelings are painted over, and radiant 
 with corresponding hues. There is nothing of the kind, 
 and the admission of such a principle would lead to a 
 multitude of errours. 
 
 This subject is illustrated in the following manner by 
 Dr. Reid, whom we have already had repeated occasion 
 to refer to on the subject before us. — 'dressing my hand 
 with force against the table, I feel pain, and I feel the table 
 to be hard. The pain is a sensation of the mind, and 
 there is nothing that resembles it in the table. The hard- 
 ness is in the table, nor is there any thing, resembling it 
 in the mind. Feeling is applied to both ; but in a differ- 
 ent sense ; being a word common to the act of sensation, 
 and to that of perceiving by the sense of touch. 
 
 
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 19<: 
 
 " 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 sensation 
 not being painful, I commonly give no attention to it. 
 It carries my thought immediately to the thing signi- 
 fied by it, and is itself forgotten, as if it had never been ; 
 but by repeating it and turning my attention to it, and 
 abstracting my thought from the thing signified by it, I 
 find it to be merely a sensation, and that it has no simili- 
 tude to the hardness, smoothness, or coldness of the table 
 which are 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 ope- 
 rations of their own minds."* 
 
 §. 146. The connection^ between the mental and physical 
 change not capable of explanation. 
 
 External bodies operate on the senses, before there is 
 any aflfection of the mind, but it is not easy to say what 
 the precise character and extent of this operation is. We 
 know that some object capable of affecting the organ 
 must be applied to it in some way either directly or mdi- 
 rectly, and it is a matter of knowledge also, that some 
 chaHge.inthe organ actually takes place ; but further than 
 this, we are involved in uncertainty. All we can under- 
 take to do at present is the mere statement of the facts, 
 viz, the application of an external body, and some change 
 in consequence of it in the organ of sense*. 
 
 Subsequently to the change in the organ, either at its 
 extremity and outward developement or in the brain, 
 with which it is connected, and of which it may be con- 
 sidered as making a part, a change in the mind or a new 
 state of the mind immediately takes place. Here also we 
 
 *Reid's Intellectual Powers, Essav II. 
 
300 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 are limited to the mere statement of fact. We here 
 touch upon one of those boundaries of the intellect, 
 which men are probably not destined to pass in the pres- 
 ent life. We find ourselves unable to resolve and explain 
 the connection between mind and matter in this case, as 
 we do in all others. All we know, and all we can state 
 with confidence is, that a mental affection is immediate- 
 ly subsequent to an affection or change, which is physi- 
 cal. Such is our nature, and such the appointment of 
 Him who ordered it. 
 
 §. 147. Of the meaning and nature of perception. 
 
 We next come to the subject of perception, which is 
 intimately connected with that of sensation. This term 
 like many others admits of considerable latitude in its ap- 
 plication. In common language we are not only said to 
 have the power of perceiving outward objects, but also 
 of perceiving the agreement or disagreement in the acts 
 of the mind itself. Accordingly we perceive a tree in the 
 forest or a ship at sea, and we also perceive, that the 
 whole is greater than a part, and that the three angks of a 
 triangle are equal to two right angles. But what we have 
 to say here does not concern internal perception, but 
 merely that which relates to objects exteriour to the 
 mind. 
 
 Perception, using the term in its application to out- 
 ward objects, differs from sensation, as a whole does from 
 a part ; it embraces more. It may be defined, therefore, 
 an affection or state of the mind, which is immediate- 
 ly successive to certain affections of the organs of sense, 
 and which is referred by us to something external as its 
 cause. 
 
 It will be recollected, that the term sensation, when 
 applied to the mind, expresses merely the state of the 
 mind, without reference to any thing external, which 
 might be the cause of it, and that it is the name of a truly 
 simple feeling. Perception on the contrary is the name 
 of a complex mental state, including not merely the in- 
 ternal affection of the mind, but also a reference to the 
 
 ■ 
 
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 201 
 
 exteriour cause. Sensation is wholly within ; but Per- 
 ception carries us, as it were, out of ourselves, and makes 
 us acquainted with the world around us. It is especially 
 by means of this last power, that material nature, in all 
 its varieties of form and beauty, is brought within the 
 range of our inspection. If we had but sensation alone, 
 there would still be form and fragrance, and colour, and 
 harmony of sound, but it \vould seem to be wholly in- 
 ward. The mind would then become not merely what 
 Leibnitz supposed it to be, a mirror of the universe ; it 
 would be the universe itself ; we could know no other 
 world, no other form of being. Perception prevents the 
 possibility of such a mistake ; it undeceives and dissipates 
 the flattering notion, that all tilings are in the soul ; it 
 leads us to other existences^ and in particular to the knowl- 
 edge of the vast and complicated fabric of the material 
 creation. 
 
 §. 148. Of the 'primary and secondary qualities of matter. 
 
 From what has been said, it will be noticed, that sen^ 
 sATioif implies the existence of an external material world 
 as its cause, and that perception implies the same exis- 
 tence both as cause and object. As, therefore, the materi- 
 al world comes now so directly and closely under con- 
 sideration, it seems proper briefly to revert to that sub- 
 ject. It is hardly necessary to repeat the sentiment, which 
 has already been proposed and insisted on, that we are 
 altogether ignorant of the subjective "or real. essence of 
 matter. Our knowledge embraces merely its qualities or 
 properties, and nothing more. Without proposing to en- 
 ter into a minute examination of them, it will be proper 
 to recall to recollection here, that the qualities of material 
 bodies have been ranked by writers under the two hervds 
 of Primary and Secondary. 
 
 The PRIMARY QUALITIES are known by being e:;sential 
 
 to the existence of all bodies. They are extension, fi:{ure, 
 
 divisibility, and solidity ; and some writers have included 
 
 motion. They are. called priiiarf tor the reason already 
 
 2'j . 
 
202 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 distinctly referred to, that all men embrace them in the 
 notions, which they form of matter, and that they are 
 essential to its existence. All bodies have extension, 
 all bodies have figure, all are capable of division, all pos- 
 sess the attribute of solidity. 
 
 By SOLIDITY in bodies, (perhaps some would prefer the 
 term resistance,) is to be understood that quality, by 
 which a body hinders the approach of others, between 
 which it is interposed. In this sense even water, and all 
 other fluids are solid. If particles of water could be 
 prevented from separating, they w^ouid oppose so great 
 resistance, that it would be impossible for any two bodies, . 
 between which they might be, to come in contact. This 
 was shown in an experiment, which was once made at 
 Florence. A quantity of water was inclosed in a gold 
 ball, which on the most violent pressure could not be made 
 to fill the internal cavity, until the water inside was forced 
 through the pores. 
 
 There is reason also for that part of the arrangement, 
 which includes divisibility. We cannot conceive of a 
 particle so small as not to be susceptible of division. And 
 to that small particle must belong not only divisibility, but 
 the qualities of solidity, extension,, and figure. 
 
 §. 149. Of the secondary qualities of maiier. 
 
 The SECONDARY qualities of bodies are of two kinds ; 
 (1 ) Those, which have relation to the perceiving and sen- 
 tient mind ; (2) Those, which have relation to other 
 bodies. 
 
 Under the first class are to be included sound^colour,taste, 
 smell, hardness and softness, heat and cold, roughness and 
 smoothness. &c. When we say of a body it has sound, 
 we imply in this remark, that it possesses qualities, 
 which will cause certain 'eflfects in the mind; the term 
 sound being applicable by the use of language both to 
 the qualities of the external object, and to the effect pro- 
 duced within. When we say it has colour, we always 
 make a like reference to the mind, "which beholds and 
 
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 203 
 
 contemplates it ; and U is the same of the otIieV seconda- 
 ry qualities of this description. 
 
 The other class of secondary qualities, (or properties 
 as they are not unfrequentl}^ termed,) those which have 
 relation to other material bodies, are exceedingly various 
 and numerous. The material substance, which in rela- 
 tion to the mind possesses the qualities of sound and 
 colour, may possess also in relation to other bodies the 
 qualities or properties of malleability, fusibility, solubility, 
 permeability, and the like. 
 
 §. 150. Of the nature of mental powers or faculties. 
 
 We have spoken of Perception as a power of the 
 mind, as well as a mental state or act. This is owing to 
 the imperfection of language. The same term, at least 
 in the English language, signifies both the result, and the 
 corresponding power ; and oftentimes there is nothing but 
 the connection to determine which is meant. But we 
 have recurred to this subject here, merely for the purpose 
 of suggesting the importance of keeping in recollection, that 
 mental powers, (what are otherwise called faculties and 
 not unfrequently susceptibilities,) are not distinct from 
 the mind itself. They are only the ability of the mind 
 to act in a particular way. We apply the term also in 
 other cases ; we speak of the power or faculty .of the 
 
 MEMORY, of REASONING, of IMAGINATION, &C. ' Such ex- 
 pressions are found in all languages, and cannot well be 
 avoided. They are brief, and, on the whole, convenient 
 representations of the various ways, in which the soul is 
 capable of acting, or exerting itself. 
 
 But while we keep in recollection, that powers or 
 faculties are only the ability of the mind to act in a partic- 
 ular w^ay, it is further to be noticed, that in most cases 
 what are so called are complex in their nature ; they are 
 made up in their results of various simple feelings, and 
 imply the exercise of more than one simple susceptibility. 
 It is proper, therefore, to analyze them, and to become ac- 
 quainted with their parts ; otherwise our notions will 
 be confused, and often erroneous. Still we cannot 
 
204 SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.. 
 
 wholly lay asicle the expressions, which use and* the 
 wants of men have introduced ; nor is this necessary, 
 if we will but take the pains to explain the true na- 
 ture of the operations, and ©f that ability of the mind, 
 which they profess to represent. If philosophers should 
 undertake to introduce a whole new system of terms, (and. 
 the credit is due to Kant that there is not wanting a nota- 
 ble instance of this in modern times,) still it would be 
 necessary to employ the old ones, in order to make them 
 understood by mankind generally. As a general rule it 
 is better to employ the common and acknowledged 
 phraseology, only taking care to limit and explain it so 
 far as it may be liable to misapprehension in consequence 
 of a new and scientific application. " It looks too much 
 like affectation, (says Locke, speaking of these forms of 
 speech,) wholly to lay them by; and philosophy itself, 
 though it likes not a gaudy dress, yet when it appears 
 in public, must have so much complacency, as to be 
 clothed in the ordinary fashion and language of the 
 country, so far as it can consist with triith and perspi- 
 cuity^" 
 
CHAPTER THIRD. 
 
 THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE. 
 
 §. \S[/ J^ature and importance of the senses as a source 
 of knowledge. 
 
 It is desirable to keep clearly in the mind the precise 
 relation of the senses to the origin, progress, and amount 
 of our knowledge, and to possess if possible a correct 
 understanding of their true value. In a certain sense the 
 possession of the bodily organs, with which we are fur- 
 nished) is not essential and pre-requisite to the possession 
 of that knowledge, which we are accustomed i6 ascribe to 
 them. There is nothing unwarrantable and unreasonable 
 in the supposition, that the knowledge, which we now 
 have by their means, might have been possessed without 
 their aid, either immediately, or in some way altogether 
 different. Their use and indispensableness in the acquisi- 
 tion of a certain portion of what men are permitted to 
 know, is a matter of arrangement and appointment on 
 the part of our Maker. It is undoubtedly an evidence of 
 the correctness of this remark, that the Supreme Being 
 has a full acquaintance with all those outward objects, 
 which present themselves to our notice, without being in- 
 debted to any material instrumentality and mediation. 
 He perceives in another way, or rather all knowledge is 
 
206 THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE. 
 
 inherent in, and originally and unalterably essential to 
 himself. • 
 
 It is not so, as we have reason to believe, with any 
 other beings, and certainly not with man. Although a 
 great part of his knowledge relates to material things, he 
 is so formed, and his constitution is so ordered, that he is 
 wholly dependent for it on the senses. — Deprive him of 
 the ear, and all nature becomes voiceless and silent ; de- 
 prive him of the eye, and the sun and moon withdraw 
 their light, and the universe becomes darkenecTlike sack- 
 cloth ; deprive him of the sense of touch, and he is then 
 entirely insulated, and as much cut off from all com- 
 munication with others, as if he were the only being in 
 existence. 
 
 §. 152. Of the connection of the brain with sensation and 
 perception. 
 
 It may perhaps be asked. Whether these views are in- 
 tended to exclude the brain, as having a connection with 
 the senses in the results, which are here ascribed to them ? 
 And this inquiry leads us to observe, (what has been 
 before alluded to,) that the brain is a prominent organ in 
 the material part of the process of sensation and of exter- 
 nal perception. The senses evidently cannot be separated 
 from the nervous system. But the substance, which is 
 found in the nerves, excepting the coat in which it is en- 
 veloped, is the same as in the brain, being of the same 
 soft and fibrous texture, and in continuity with it. As a 
 general statement, when the brain has been in any way 
 injured, the inward sensation, which would otherwise be 
 distinct on the presence of an external body, is imperfect. 
 Also if the nerve be injured, or if its continuity be distur- 
 bed by the pressure of a tight ligature, the effect is the 
 same ; a circumstance which goes to confirm the alleged 
 identity of substance in the two. 
 
 The brain, therefore, and whatever of the same sub- 
 stance in continuity with it, particularly the nerves, con- 
 stitute the sensorial organ^ which, in the subordinate or- 
 gans of taste, smell, sight, touch, and hearing presents it- 
 
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE. 207 
 
 self under different modifications to external objects. 
 On this organ, the sensorial^ as thus explained, an impres- 
 sion must be made, before there can be sensation and per- 
 ception. 
 
 An impression, for instance ^ is made on that part of the 
 sensorial organ called the auditory nerve, and a state of 
 mind immediately succeeds, which is variously termed, 
 according to the vievr in which it is contemplated, ei- 
 ther the sensation, or the perception of sound. 
 
 An impression is made by the rays of light on that ex- 
 pansion of the optic nerve, which forms what is called 
 the RETINA of the eye, and the intellectual principle is im- 
 mediately brought into that new position, which is term- 
 ed visual perception or a perception of sight. 
 
 The hand is impressed on a body of an uneven and 
 rough surface, and imniediately consequent on this appli- 
 catiorfand pressure, is that state of mind, which is termed 
 a sensation or perception of roughness. 
 
 §. 153. Order in which the senses are to be considered. 
 
 In considering those ideas, which we become posses- 
 sed of by means of the senses, it is natural to begin with 
 that sense, which will cause tis the least difficulty in the 
 analysis of its results ; and to proceed to others succes- 
 sively, as we find them increasing in importance. It may 
 not be altogether easy to apply this principle with strict- 
 ness, but it'will answer all the purpose, for which it is 
 here introduced, if we consider the senses in the follow- 
 ing order, the smell, taste, hearing, touch, and sight. 
 
 The mind holds a communication with the material 
 world by means of the sense of smelling. All animal and 
 vegetable bodies, (and the same will probably hold good 
 of other bodies, though generally in a less degree,) are 
 continually sending out effluvia of great subtility. These 
 small particles are rapidly and widely scattered abroad in 
 the neighbourhood of the body, from ^o'hich they pro- 
 ceed. No sentient being can come within the circum- 
 ference, occupied by these continually moving and vol- 
 atile atoms, without experiencing effects from it. 
 
203 THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE: 
 
 §. 1 51. Of tht sense and sensations oj smell. 
 
 The medium, througli which we have the sensation 
 and perceptions of smell, is the organ which is termed the 
 olfactory nerve, situated principally in the nostrils, but 
 partly in some continuous cavities. When some odorifer- 
 ous particles, sent from external objects, affect this organ, 
 there is a certain state of mind produced, which varies 
 with the nature of the odoriferous bodies. But we can no 
 more infer from the sensation itself merely, that there ex- 
 ists any necessary connection between the smell and the 
 external objects, than that there exists a connection be- 
 tween the emotions of joy and sorrow and the same ob- 
 jects. It might indeed be suggested to us by the change 
 in our mental states, that there must be some cause or 
 antecedent to the change, but this suggestion would be far 
 from implying the necessity of a corporeal cause. 
 
 How then does it happen, that we are not merely sen- 
 sible of the particular sensation, but refer it at once to 
 some external object, to the rose or the honeysuckle ? In 
 answer it may be remarked, if we had always been desti- 
 tute of the senses of sight and touch, this reference never 
 could have been made, but having been furnished with 
 them by the beneficent Author of our being, we make 
 this reference by experience. When we have ^ seen the 
 rose, when Ave have been near to it and handled it, we 
 have uniformly been conscious of that state of mind, 
 which we term a sensation of smell. When we have 
 come into the neighbourhood of the honeysuckle, or when 
 it has been gathered ^nd presented to us, we have been rc- 
 iidinded of its fragrance. And thus, having learnt by ex- 
 perience, that the presence of the odoriferous body is al- 
 ways, attended with the sensations of smell, we form the 
 Jiabit of attributing the sensations to that body as their 
 cause. 
 
 §. I5lj. Of perceptions of smell in distinction from sensations. 
 
 The m^ental reference, spoken of in the last section, is 
 
THE SENSES OP SMELL AND TASTE. 209- 
 
 made with almost as much promptness, as if it were 
 necessarily involved in the sensation itself. It is at least 
 so rapid that we find ourselves utterly unable to mark the 
 mind's progress from the inward feeling to the conception 
 of the outward cause. Nor is this inability surprizing, 
 when we consider, that we have repeated this process, 
 both in this and in analogous cases, from our earliest 
 childhood. No object has ever been present to us, capa- 
 ble of operating on the senses, where this process has not 
 been gone through. The result of this long-continued and 
 frequent repetition has been an astonishing quickness in 
 the mental action ; so much so that the mind leaps out- 
 ward with the rapidity of lightning, to be present withy 
 and to comprehend the causes of the feeling within. 
 
 This vieW, it will be seen, helps in illustrating the 
 nature, of perception, as distinguished from sensation. 
 The outlines of that distinction have already been given ; 
 and every one of the senses, as well as that now under 
 consideration, will furnish proofs and illustrations of it. 
 Accordingly when we are said to perceive the smell, or to 
 have perceptions of the smell of a body, the rapid 
 process, which has been described, is gone through, 
 ^nd the three things, which were involved in the defi- 
 nition of Perception already given, are supposed to exist ; 
 (1) The presence of the odoriferous body and the 
 affection of its appropriate organ ; (2) The change or sen- 
 sation iu the mind ; and (3) The reference of the sensa- 
 tion to the external body as its cause. 
 
 §.156. Of the sense and the sensations of taste. 
 
 The tongue, which is covered with numerous nervous 
 papillae, forms essentially the organ of taste ; although 
 the papillae are found scattered in other parts of the cavi- 
 ty of the mouth. The application of any sapid body to 
 this organ immediately causes in it a cha'ige or affection ; 
 and that is at once followed by a mental affection or a nev/ 
 state of the mind. In this way we have the sensations 
 and perceptions, to which we give the names, sweet, bit- 
 ter, sour, acrid, &c. 
 27 
 
210 
 
 THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE. 
 
 Having experienced the inward sensation, the affections 
 of the mind are then referred by us to something exter- 
 nal as their cause. We do not however always, nor even 
 generally distinguish the' qualities, which constitute this 
 cause, by separate and appropriate designations ; but ex- 
 press them by the names, that are employed for the in- 
 ternal feeling, viz, sweetness, bitterness, sourness, &c. 
 This reference of what is internally experienced to its 
 external cause, is very rapidly made ; so that we at once 
 say of one apple it is sweet, and of another, it is sour. 
 Still it is to be kept in mind, that in point of fact, it is sub- 
 sequent, both in the order of nature and of time, to the mere 
 sensation ; although we may not be able, in consequence 
 of its rapidity, to mark distinctly the progress of the 
 mental action from the one to the other. As in the case 
 of smells, which have already been remarked upon, the 
 reference is the result of our former experience. We say 
 of one body it is sweet, and of another, it is sour, be- 
 cause we have ever observed, that the mental states, indi- 
 cated by those terms, have always existed in connection 
 with the presence of those bodies. 
 
 Whenever, therefore, we say of any bodies, that they 
 are sweet, bitter, sour, or apply any other epithets, ex-** 
 pressive of sapid qualities, we mean to be understood to 
 say, that such bodies are fitted in the constitution of things 
 to cause in the mind the sensations of sweetness, bitter- 
 ness, and sourness, or other sensations, expressed by de- 
 nominations of taste. Or, in other words, that they are 
 the established antecedents of such mental states, as there 
 is, further than this, no necessary connection between 
 them-. 
 
 §. 157. Design and uses of the senses of smell and taste. 
 
 It is not unprofitable to delay oftentimes, and contem- 
 plate the designs and uses, which nature has in view in her 
 works. Although the sense of smell may appear, (and per- 
 haps with sufficient reason,) to be of less importance, than 
 the other senses, and other parts of the animal economy, 
 it is not without its ends. There is evidently design in 
 
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE. 211 
 
 the position of the organ in reference to the effluvia, which 
 are the direct subjects of its action, it being placed in the 
 inside of a canal, where the, air is continually forced in 
 and out with every breath we draw. The organ is pre- 
 cisely adapted, both in its nature and its place, to its ap- 
 pointed medium of communication with other bodies ; nor 
 is this the only mark of design attending it. T^is.sense is 
 frequently a source of gratification ; and although it is less 
 keen and powerful in men than in many inferiour animcds, 
 it still has power enough to afford much assistance in this 
 respect, *that it often warns us of the presence of objects, 
 which experience has found to be injurious to us. The 
 remark has been justly made, that the senses both of taste 
 and smell are of great use in distinguishing bodies, that 
 cannot be distinguished by our other senses. They are pe- 
 culiarly quick and exact in their judgments, especially in 
 discerning, before we can ascertain it in any other way, the 
 beginning and progress of those changes, which all bodies 
 are constantly undergoing. 
 
 But in both of these senses design and utility are dis- 
 coverable in reference to food in particular. While the 
 sense of smell guards the entrance of tlie canal for breath- 
 ing, the sense of taste has its station at the entrance of the 
 alimentary canal. Hence the food, which we consume, 
 undergoes the scrutiny of both ; an intentional and benev- 
 olent provision for protecting men and the animal crea- 
 tion generally against the introduction of what would be 
 noxious to them. 
 
CHAPTER FOURTH. 
 
 THE SENSE OF HEARING. 
 
 §. 158. Organ of the sense of hearing. 
 
 Following the order, which has been proposed, we 
 are next to consider the sense of hearing. And in pro- 
 ceeding to the consideration of this subject, the remark 
 is a very obvious one, that v/e should be unable to hear, 
 if we had not a sense designed for and appropriate to that 
 result. The air, when put strongly in motion, is distinct- 
 ly perceived by the touch ; but no impression, which it 
 could make on that sense, would cause that interna'l feel- 
 ing, which is termed a sensation of sound. Our Creator 
 therefore has taken care, that these sensations shall have 
 their own organ ; and it is obviously one of precise and 
 elaborate workmanship. The ear is designedly planted 
 in a position, where with the greatest ease it takes cogni- 
 zance of whatever is going on in the contiguous atmos- 
 phere. When we examine it externally, we not only find 
 it thus favorably situated, but presenting a hollowed 
 and capacious surface, so formed as to grasp and gather in 
 the undulations of air, continually floating and in motion 
 around it. Without, however, delaying to give a minute 
 description of the internal construction of the ear, which 
 belongs rather to the physiologist, it will answer our 
 present piirj^ose merely to add, that these undulations are 
 conducted by it through varioHS windings, till they are 
 
THE SENSE OF HEARING. 2lS 
 
 brought in a state of concentration, as it were, against the 
 membrane, called the tympanum. It is worthy of notice, 
 that on the internal surface of this membrane, (the drum 
 as it is popularly called,) there is a nerve spread out in a 
 manner analogous to the expansion of the optic nerve at 
 the bottom of the eye. Whether this nervous expansion 
 be indispensably necessary to the result or not, it is certain 
 that a pressure upon or affection of the tympanum by the 
 external air is followed by a new state of the mind, known 
 nsJthe sensation or perception of sound. 
 
 §. 159. J^ature oj sonorous bodies and the medium of the 
 communication oJ sgund. 
 
 When we leave the bodily organ, and looking outward 
 inquire still further for the origin of the sensations, which 
 we have by means of the ear, we find them attributable 
 ultimately to the presence and influence of the substan- 
 ces around us. Those undulations of air, which impinge 
 upon the tympanum, and without which there is no sen- 
 sation of s.ound, are caused by the vibrations or oscilla- 
 tions of the particles of certain bodies. The material 
 substances which have this quality are termed sonorous, 
 as wood, brass, iron, &c ; but it exists in different bodies 
 in very various degrees. 
 
 The quality of sonorousness, therefore, in any sub- 
 stance is properly a. susceptibility of motion among its 
 own parts. When it is forcibly struck, Ihis motion ex- 
 ists first in itself, and is afterwards communicated to the 
 circumambient air. The movement of the air, which is 
 thus caused, is *again communicated, like the concentric 
 waves of water agitated by a stone thrown into it, to oth- 
 er portions successively, till it reaches the ear. 
 
 The air accordingly is the medium of communication 
 between the sonorous body, and the tympanum of the 
 ear. It is true, that many solid bodies are good conduc- 
 tors of sound as well as the atmosphere, but as portions of 
 air, through which the vibratory motion must of course 
 pass, are in 'all cases interposed between that organ and 
 the sounding body, it is not necessary to dwell upon them 
 
214 
 
 THE SENSE OF HEARING. 
 
 here. It is sufficient for our present purpose merely to 
 understand, that there is in every sounding body in the 
 first place a vibratory motion among its own particles 
 from some cause or other ; that this vibration or undula- 
 tion is communicated from the sounding body to the 
 air and from one portion of air to another, till it reaches 
 the organ of hearing. Why the internal sensation should 
 at once follow the completion of this process is another 
 inquiry, which we do not undertake to explain. We have 
 before us the antecedent and the consequent, the affection 
 of the organ of hearing by an outward impulse, and the 
 new mental state within ; but the reason of this invariable 
 connection in two things, that are entirely distinct and 
 different, is a matter beyond our limited comprehension. 
 
 *§. 160. Varieties of the sensation of sound. 
 
 The sensations, which we thus become possessed of 
 by the hearing, are far more numerous than the words and 
 the forms of speech, having relation to them in different 
 languages, would lead us to suppose. It will help to il- 
 lustrate this subject, if we recur a moment to the sense of 
 tASTE. The remark has somewhere been made to this ef- 
 fect, and probably with much truth, that if a person were 
 to examine five hundred different wines, he would hardly 
 find two of them of precisely the same flavour. The di- 
 versity is almost endless, although there is no language, 
 which distinguishes each variety of taste by a separate 
 name. It is the same in respect to the sensations of sound. 
 These sensations exhibit the greatest varietv, although 
 their differences are too minute to be se*parately and dis- 
 tinctly represented by language. 
 
 These views will appear the le'ss objectionable, wlien 
 it is remembered, that sounds differ from each other both 
 in the tone, and in the strength of the tone. It is remark- 
 ed by Dr. Reid, that five hundred variations of tone may 
 be perceived by the ear, also an equal number of varia- 
 tions in the strength of the tone ; making, as he express- 
 ly informs us, by a- combination of the tones and of the 
 
THE SENSE OF HEARING. 215 
 
 degrees of strength, more than twenty thousand simple 
 sounds differing either in tone or strength. 
 
 In a perfect tone, a great many undulations of elastic air 
 are required, which must be of equal duration and extent, 
 and follovvT each other with perfect regularity. Each un- 
 dulation is- made up of the advance and retreat of innu- 
 merable particles, whose motions are all uniform in direc- 
 tion* force, and time. Accordingly there will be varieties 
 also and shades of difference in the same tone, arising from 
 the position and manner of striking the sonorous body, 
 from the constitution of the elastic medium, and from the 
 state of the organ of hearing. 
 
 Different instruments, such as a flute, a violin, and a 
 bass-viol may all sound the same tone, and }'et be easily 
 distinguishable. A considerable number of hui^ian voices 
 may sound the same note, and with equal strength, and 
 yet there will be some difference. The same voice, while 
 it maintains the proper distinctions of sound, m^ay yet be 
 varied many ways by sickness or healtli, youth or age, 
 or any other alterations in our bodily condition, to which 
 we are incident. 
 
 §. 161. 'Manner in uhich ice learn the r^Iace of sounds. 
 
 m 
 
 It is a fact particularly worthy of notice in respect to 
 sounds, that we should not know, previous to all experi- 
 ence on the subject, v/Iiether the sound came from the right 
 or left, from above or beiow, from a smaller or greater 
 distance. xind this will appear the less surprizing, when 
 we remember, that the undulations of air are always 
 changed from their original direction by the channels and 
 the windings, of the ear, before they strike the tympanum. 
 Abundant facts confirm this statement. 
 
 Dr. Reid mentions, thjit once, as he was lying in bed, 
 having been put into a fright, he heard his own heart beat. 
 He took it to be some one knocking at the door, and arose, 
 and opened the door oflener than once before he discover- 
 ed, that the sound was in his own breast. Some traveller 
 has related, that when he first heard the roaring of a lion 
 in a desert wilderness, not seeing t'he animal, he' did not 
 
216 THE SENSE OF HEARING. 
 
 know on what side to apprehend danger, as the sound 
 seemed to him to proceed from the ground, and to en- 
 close a circle, of which he and his companions stood in 
 the centre. 
 
 It is by custom or experience, that we learn to distin- 
 guish the state of things, and, in some measure also, their 
 nature, by means of their sound. It is thus that we 
 learn, that one noise is in a contiguous room, that* an- 
 other is above our heads, and another is in the street. 
 And what seems to bean evidence of this is, that when 
 we are in a strange place, after all our experience, 
 we very frequently find ourselves mistaken in these res- 
 pects. 
 
 If a man born deaf were suddenly made to hear, he 
 would proJ)ably consider his first sensations of sound as 
 originating wholly within himself. But in process of time 
 we learn not only to refer the origin of sounds to a posi- 
 tion above or below, to the right or left ; but to connect 
 each particular sound with a particular external cause, re- 
 ferring one to a bell as its appropriate external cause, an- 
 other to a flute, another to a trumpet. 
 
 §. 162. Application of these views to the art of ventriloquism. 
 
 • 
 
 We are naturally led to mak^ a few remarks here in 
 explanation of ventriloquism, a well known art, by which 
 persons can so modify their voice, as to make it appear 
 to their audience to proceed from different objects, dis- 
 tances, .and directions, The great requisite on the part 
 of the ventriloquist is to be able to mimic sounds ; and he 
 will be likely to succeed nearly in proportion to his skill 
 in this particular. The secret then ofhis acoustic decep- 
 tions, supposing him to be capable of exact imitation, will 
 be sufficiently understood by referring to the statement 
 maintained in the preceding section, viz. That previous 
 to experience, we are unable to refer sounds to any partic- 
 ular external cause. 
 
 The sound itself never gives us any direct and imme- 
 diate indication of the place, distance, or direction of 
 the sonorous body. It is only by experience, it is only 
 
OF THE SENSE OF HEARING. 217 
 
 by the association of place with sound, that the latter 
 becomes an indication of the former. Now supposing 
 the ventriloquist to possess a delicate ear, which is im- 
 plied in his ability to mimic sounds, he soon learns by 
 careful observation the difference, which change of place 
 causes in the same sound. Having in this way ascertained 
 the particular modulation of sound, which, in accordance 
 with the experience of men and the associations they have 
 formed, are appropriate to any particular distances, direc- 
 tion, or object, it is evident, whenever he exactly or very 
 nearly imitates such modulations, that the sounds must 
 appear to his audience to come from such distance, ob- 
 ject, or direction* 
 
 One part of the art, however, consists in controlling 
 the attention of persons present, and in directing that at- 
 tention to some particular place by a remark, motion, or 
 some other method. If, for instance, the sound is to 
 come from under a tumbler or hat, the performer finds it 
 important to have their attention directed to that particular 
 object, which affords an opportunity for the exercise of all 
 those associations, which they have formed with any sound 
 coming from a very confined place. All, then, that re- 
 mains for him to do, is, to give his voice a dull modula- 
 tion and on a low key, which we know from our 
 experience to be the character of confined sounds. Then 
 there seems to be a voice speaking under a tumbler or hat; 
 and if any person should either intentionally or uninten- 
 tionally, lift these articles up, the ventriloquist imr^edi' 
 ately utters himself more freely like a person who had 
 been very much confined,' on being re-admitted into the 
 free and open air. It is also necessary, when his face is 
 towards his auditors, that he should make use chiefly of 
 the muscles of the throat ; an outward and visible mov- 
 ing of the lips would muck weaken the deception. 
 
 §. 1G3. Uses of hearing and its connection with oral language. 
 
 Although, as in the cases just mentioned, the artifices 
 of men may sometimes impose upon this organ and lead 
 its decisions astray, it is one, in the ordinary calls for its 
 
 23 
 
218 THE SENSE OF HEARING. 
 
 exercise, of exceeding value. One of the distinguished 
 benefits of the sense of hearing is, that, in consequence of 
 it, we are enabled to hold intercourse with each other by 
 means of spoken language, v/ithout which the advance- 
 ment of the human mind must have inevitably been very 
 limited. It is by means of speech, that we express our 
 feelings to the little company of our neighbours and our 
 own family ; and without it this pleasant and che'ering in- 
 tercourse must be almost entirely suspended. Not limited 
 in its beneficial results to families and neighbourhoods, it 
 has been made the medium of the transmission of thought 
 from age to age, from generation to generation. So 
 that in one age has been concentrated the result of all the 
 researches, the combination of the wisdom of all the pre- 
 ceding. 
 
 " There is without all doubt," it has been observed, 
 " a chain of the thoughts of human kind, from the ori- 
 gin of the world down to the moment at which we exist, 
 a chain not less universal than that of the generation of 
 every being, that lives. Ages have exerted their influence 
 on ages ; nations on nations ; truths on errours ; crrours 
 on truths." 
 
 Whether oral language was an original invention of 
 man, or whether in the first instance it was a power 
 bestowed upon him by his Creator and coeval with the 
 human race, the ear must in either case have been the 
 primary recipient. — The faculty of speech so necessary 
 and so beneficial could not have existed, either by inven- 
 tion or by communication, without the sense of hearing. 
 And hence it happens, that all those, who are born deaf, 
 are without speech. Their inability to speak is not in 
 general the result of a defect in the organs of speech, but 
 because they cannot hear others, and thus imitate the 
 sounds they utter. 
 
CHAPTER FIFTH. 
 
 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
 
 §. 164. Of the seme of touch and the sensations in general. 
 
 We are next to consider the sense of touch. The 
 principal organ of this sense is the hand, aUhough it is not 
 limited to that part of our frame, but H diffused over the 
 whole body. The hand principally arrests our attention 
 as the organ of this sense, because being furnished with 
 various articulations, it is easily moveable by the muscles, 
 and can readily adopt itself to the various changes of form 
 in the objects, to which it is applied. 
 
 The senses, which have hitherto been examined, are 
 more simple and uniform in their results than that of the 
 touch. By the ear we merely possess that sensation, 
 which we denominate hearing ; we have the knowledge 
 of sounds, and that is all. By the palate we acquire a 
 knowledge of tastes, and by the sense of smelling w« be- 
 come acquainted with the odours of bodies. The knowl- 
 edge,which is directly acquired by all these senses, is lim- 
 ited to the qualities, which have been mentioned. By the 
 sense of touch, on the contrary, we become acquainted 
 not with one merely, but with a variety of qualities, 
 such as the following, heat and cold, hardness and soft- 
 ness, roughness and smoothness, figure, solidity or resis- 
 tance,, extension, and perhaps motion ; and in particular it 
 gives occasion for the origin of the antecedent and more 
 general notion of externality. 
 
220 
 
 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
 
 §. 165. The idea of externality or outness suggested by the 
 sense of touch. 
 
 If man were possessed of the sense of smell alone, it 
 would be found, that the earliest elements of his knowl- 
 edge consisted exclusively in sensations of odours. Ac- 
 cording however as these sensations were agreeable or 
 disagreeable, he would acquire the additional ideas of 
 pleasure and pain. And having experienced pleasurfe and 
 pain, we may suppose, that this would subsequently give 
 rise to the notions of desire and aversion. But if he had 
 no other sense, all these feelings would seem to him to 
 be internal, to be mere emanations from the soul itself ; 
 and he would be incapable of referring them to an exter- 
 nal cause. 
 
 If he were possessed of the sense of hearing alone, the 
 result would be similar ; his existence would then seem to 
 consist of harmony, as in the other case it would be made 
 up of fragrance ; nor indeed by the aid of merely both 
 these senses combined, would he be able to form an idea of 
 externality or outness. 
 
 But this idea is a most important one ; it is the connec- 
 ting thought, which introduces us to an acquaintance with 
 a new form of existence, diiferent from that interiour 
 existence^ which we variously call by the names, spirit, 
 mind, or soul. This first idea arises in the mind by means 
 of the sense of touch. 
 
 All the senses, not excluding the smell and the taste, 
 which are the least important in a mere intellectual point 
 of view, have their share in bringing the mind into action; 
 they are the primitive sources of thought and of emotion. 
 The mind becomes, in consequence of the aids of the 
 other senses, (supposing ourselves to be as yet without 
 the sense of touch, or at least as not having applied it to 
 any body by means of a muscular effort,) full of activity 
 and fruitfulness, although its acts are at first wholly in- 
 ternal. It compares, abstracts, reasons, chooses, wills ; 
 and meeting with no obstacle, it finds every thing easy, 
 and a source of pleasure. But after a time it chooses^ 
 
THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 221 
 
 to move the limbs in this direction or that ; it chooses 
 to press the hand through this bright or that fragrant 
 body ; and its volition is checked, its desire is counterac- 
 ted, the wonted series of thoughts is disturbed and brok- 
 en ; but without even the interval of a momentary pause 
 of wonder, there arises vividly in the soul a new thought, 
 a new feeling, which we call the idea ,of externality or 
 outness. It is the sense of touch whith impinges, under 
 the ordering of the muscular effort, upon the obstacle 
 that is thrown across the direction of our volition ; and 
 none other of the senses admits of this peculiar applica- 
 tion. It is thus the means of breaking up the previous con- 
 nection and tendency of thought, and gives occasion for 
 the rise of a new idea. And this idea, arising without 
 doubt under these circumstances, becomes associated 
 with all those notions, which we subsequently form of 
 matter. 
 
 §. 166. The idea of externality or outness Jurther considered. 
 
 As this notion is one of much importance, and gives a 
 new character to the great mass of our knowledge by 
 discovering and establishing a multitude of new relations, 
 it is right to delay upon it a moment longer. The circum- 
 stances, which have been stated, are properly its occasion. 
 Whenever those circumstances exist, the mind from its 
 own activity at once brings up or suggests it ; the moment 
 we come against a resisting object, whether sooner or 
 later, there is a new state of mind, the new feeling in ques- 
 tion. This feeling is a definite one, and like all our sim- 
 ple notions has a nature and character of its own ; al- 
 though in consequence of its being simple, we cannot 
 make its precise nature known by means of words merely. 
 But that there is such an idea, and that it has such a distinc- 
 tive character is evinced, not only by every man's con- 
 sciousness, but by his actions, and by all languages and 
 dialects. It is a matter of course, that it is evinced by con- 
 sciousness, unless some person can be found firmly believ- 
 ing, that all possible existences are shut up and incorpora- 
 
222 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
 
 ted within his own existence. This is evident, because 
 the mere supposition of any thing outward, whatever its 
 character or in whatever degree, necessarily involves the 
 idea of externality. 
 
 It is not less clearly evinced by men's actions, unless 
 some person can be found, whose actions are predicated 
 and directed on the basis of the non-existence of the mate- 
 rial world. Ari*d gn this point reference might be^made 
 also to all languages. There is probably not a human 
 dialect, that is destitute of what we call in the English 
 tongue OUTNESS by a word of Saxon, and at other times 
 EXTERNALITY by a word of Latin origin. But it is unrea- 
 sonable to suppose, that the framers of language would 
 have so generally agreed in forming a term for a mental 
 state which does not generally exist. 
 
 §. 167. Origin of the notions of extension and of the form 
 or figure oj bodies. 
 
 The idea of extension has its origin by means of the 
 sense of touch. When the touch is applied to bodies, 
 where in the intermediate parts there is a continuity of 
 the same substance, we necessarily form that notion. It is 
 not however to be imagined, that Extension, as it exists 
 outwardly and the corresponding notion in the mind actu- 
 ally resemble each other. So far from any imitation and 
 copying from one to the other,, or resemblance in any 
 way, there is a radical and utter diversity. As to outward, 
 material extension, it is not necessary to attend to it here ; 
 our business at present is with the corresponding inward 
 feeling. Nor will it be necessary to delay even upon that; 
 the more we multiply words upon it, the more obscure it 
 becomes. As it is a simple idea we cannot resolve it into 
 others, and in that way make it clearer by defining it. 
 We must refer in this case, as in others like it, to each 
 one's personal experience. It will be better understood 
 in that way, than by any form of words. 
 
 The notion of extension is intimately connected with, 
 and may be considered in some sort the foundation of 
 that of the form or figure of bodies. Dr. Brown some- 
 
THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 223 
 
 where calls the Form of bodies their relation to each oth- 
 • er in space. This is thought to afford matter for reflec- 
 tion ; but when we consider that space, whatever it may 
 be objectively or outwardly, exists in the mind as a sim- 
 ple notion, and that the particular relation here spoken of 
 is not pointed out, the remark may not be found to throw 
 much light on the subject. Still we do not suppose, that 
 any one is ignorant of what form is ; men must be sup- 
 posed to know that, if they are thought to know any 
 thing. All that is meant to be asserted here is, that the 
 idea of extension is antecedent, in the order of nature, to 
 that of form ; and that the latter could not exist without 
 the other ; but that both nevertheless are simple, and both 
 are to be ascribed to the sense of touch. 
 
 §. .168. On the sensations of heat and cold. 
 
 Among the feelings, which are usually classed with the 
 intimations of the sense under consideration, are those, 
 which are connected with changes in the temperature of 
 our bodies. Some writers, it is true, have been inclined 
 to dissent from this arrangement, and have hazarded an 
 opinion, that they ought not to be ascribed to the sense of 
 TOUCH ; but Dr. Reid on the contrary, who gave to our 
 sensations the most careful and patient attention, has deci- 
 dedly assigned to them this origin. Among other remark 
 he has expressed himself on this subject to this effect. 
 
 '•J- The words heat and cold, (he remarks. Inquiry in- 
 to the Human Mind, Chap. V.) have each of them two 
 significations ; they sometimes signify certain sensations 
 of the mind, which can have no existence when they are 
 not felt, nor can exist any where but in the mind or sen- 
 tient being ; but more frequently they signify a quality in 
 bodies, which, by the laws of nature, occasions the sensa- 
 tions of heat and cold in us: a quality which, though con- 
 nected by custom so closely with the sensation, that we 
 cannot without difficulty separate them ; yet hath not the 
 least resemblance to it, and may continue to exist when 
 there is no sensation at all. 
 
 " The sensations of heat and cold are perfectly knownj» 
 
224 
 
 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
 
 for they neither are, nor can be, any thing else than what 
 we feel them to be ; but the qualities in bodies, which we^ 
 call heat and coM, are unknown. They are only conceiv- 
 ed by us, as unknown causes or occasions of the sensa- 
 tions, to which we give the same names. But though 
 common gense says nothing of the nature of these quali- 
 ties, it plainly dictates the existence of them ; and to de- 
 ny that there can be heat or cold when they are not felt, 
 is an absurdity too gross to merit confutation. For what 
 could be more absurd, than, to say, that the thermometer 
 cannot rise or fall, unless some person, be present, or that 
 the coast of Guinea would be as cold as Nova Zembla, if 
 it had no inhabitants. 
 
 '' It is the business of philosophers to investigate by 
 proper experiments and induction, what heat and cold are 
 in bodies. And whether they make heat a particular el- 
 ement diffused through nature, and accumulated in the 
 heated body, or whether they make it a certain vibration 
 of the parts of the heated body ; whether they deter- 
 mine that heat and cold are contrary qualities, as the sen- 
 sations undoubtedly are contrary, or that heat only is 
 a quality, and cold its privation : these questions are with- 
 in,the province of philosophy; for common sense says noth- 
 ing on the one side or the other. 
 
 " But whatever be the nature of that quality in bodies 
 which we call heat, we certainly know this, that it cannot 
 in the least resemble the sensation of heat. It is no less 
 absurd to suppose a likeness between the sensation and the 
 quality, than it would be to suppose, that the pain of the 
 gout resembles a square or a triangle. The simplest man 
 that halh common sense, does not imagine the sensatioa 
 of heat, or any thing that resembles that sensation, to be 
 in the fire. He only imagines, that. there is something in 
 the fire, which makes him and other sentient beings feel 
 heat. Yet as the name of heat, in common language, more 
 frequently and more properly signifies this unknown some- 
 thing in the fire, than the sensation occasioned by it, he 
 justly laughs at the philosopher, who denies that there is 
 
THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 225 
 
 any heat in the fire, and thinks that he speaks contrary to 
 common sense." 
 
 §. 1G9. On the sensations of hardness and softness. 
 
 ^' Let us next consider, (continues the same writer,) 
 HARDNESS AND SOFTNESS ; by which words we always un- 
 derstand real properties or qualities of bodies of which 
 we have a distinct conception. 
 
 " When the parts of a body adhere so firmly that it can- 
 not easily be made to change its figure, we call it hard ; 
 when its parts are easily displaced, we call it soft. This 
 is the notion which all mankind have of hardness and 
 softness : they are neither sensations, nor like any sensa- 
 tion ; they were real qualities before they were perceived 
 by touch, and continue to be so when they are not 
 perceived ; for if any man will affirm, that diamonds 
 w^ere not hard till they were handled, who would reason 
 with him ? 
 
 " There'is, no doubt, a sensation by which we perceive 
 a body to be hard or soft. This sensation of hardness 
 may easily be had, by pressing one's hand against a ta- 
 ble, and attending to the feeling that ensues, setting aside, 
 as much as- possible, all thought of the table and its quali- 
 ties, or of any external thing. But it is one thing to 
 have the sensation, and another to attend to it and make it 
 a distinct object of reflection. The first is very easy ; the 
 last in most cases extremely difficult. • 
 
 *' We are so accustomed to use the sensation as a sign, 
 and to pass immediately to the hardness signified, that, as 
 far as appears, it was never made an object of thought, ei- 
 ther by the vulgar, or by philosophers ; nor has it a name 
 in any language. There is no sensation more distinct, or 
 more frequent ; yet it is never attended to, but passes 
 through the mind instantaneously, and serves only to in- 
 troduce that quality in bodies, which, by a law of our 
 constitution, it suggests. 
 
 There are indeed some cases, wherein it is no difficult 
 matter to attend to the sensation occasioned by the hard- 
 ness of a body ; for instance, when it is so violent as to 
 29 
 
226 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
 
 occasion considerable pain: then nature calls upon lis to 
 attend to it ; and then we acknowledge that it is a mere 
 sensation^and can only be in a sentient being. If a man runs 
 .Jiis head with violence against a pillar, I appeal to him 
 whether the pain he feels resembles the hardness of the 
 stone ; or if he can conceive any thing like what he feels 
 to be in an inanimate piece of matter. 
 
 " The attention of the mind is ' here entirely turned 
 toward the painful feeling ; and, to speak in the common 
 language of mankind, he feels nothing in the stone, but 
 feels a violent pain in his head. It is quite otherw ise 
 when he leans his head gently against the pillar ; for then 
 he will tell you that he feels nothing in his head, but feels 
 hardness in the stone. Hath he not a sensation in this 
 case as well as in the other ? Undoubtedly he hath ; 
 but it is a sensation which nature intended only as a sign 
 of something in the stone ; and, accordingly, he instantly 
 fixes his attention upon the thing signified ; and cannot, 
 without great difficulty, attend so much to the sensation 
 as to be persuaded, that there is any such thing distinct 
 from the hardness it signifies. 
 
 "But however difficult it may be to attend to this fu- 
 gitive sensation, to stop its rapid progress, and to disjoin 
 it from the external quality and hardness, in whose shadow 
 it is apt immediately to hide itself : this is what a phi- 
 losopher by pains and practice must attain, otherwise it 
 will be impossible for him to reason justly upon this sub- 
 ject, or even to understand what is here advanced. For 
 the last apj)eal, in subjects of this nature, must be to what 
 a man feels or perceives in his own mind." 
 
 ^. 170. Ofcerlain indefinite feelings sometimes ascribed 
 to the touch. 
 
 In connection with these views on the sensations of 
 touch, it is proper to remark, that certain feelings have 
 been ascribed to that sense, which are probably of a 
 character too indefinite, to admit of a positive and un- 
 doubted classification. Although they clearly have their 
 
THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 227 
 
 place, in the general arrangement which has been laid 
 down, with the states of mind which we are now consid- 
 ering ; that is to say, are rather of an external and mate- 
 rial, than of an internal origin ; still they do not so evi* 
 dently admit of an assignment to a particular sense. 
 Those sensations to which we now refer, (if it be proper 
 to use the term in application to them,) appear to have 
 their origin in the human S3^stem considered as a whole, 
 made up of bones, flesh, muscles, the senses, &c. rather 
 than to be susceptible of being traced to any particular 
 part. Of this description are the feelings expressed by 
 the terms, uneasiness, weariness, weakness, sickness, and 
 those of an opposite character, as ease, hilarity, health, 
 vigour, &c. 
 
 Similar views will be found to apply, in part at least, 
 to the sensations, which we express by the terms Hurs^sER 
 and THIRST. These appear to be con^plex in their nature, 
 including a feeling of uneasiness, combined with a desire 
 to relieve that uneasiness. When we say that these views 
 will apply in part to hunger and thirst, the design is to 
 limit the application of them to the element of uneasiness. 
 This elementary feeling undoubtedly has its origin in the 
 bodily system, and therefore comes in this case under the 
 general class of notions of an external origin ; but still 
 it is not easy to say, that it should be arranged with our tac- 
 tual feelings, which has sometimes been done. Every one 
 must be conscious, it is thought, that the feeling of hun- 
 ger does not greatly resemHe the sensations of hardness 
 and softness, roughness or smoothness or other sensations, 
 
 which are usually ascribed to the touch. The cause 
 
 of that peculiar state of the nerves of the stomach, which 
 is antecedent to the uneasy feeling, involved in what is 
 termed hunger, has been a subject of difference of opinion, 
 and does not appear to be well understood. If we were 
 fully acquainted with Ihis, we m.ight perhaps be less at a 
 loss where to arrange the feeling in question. 
 
223 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 
 
 §. 171. Relalion between the sensation and what is out- 
 wardly signified. 
 
 ^ We here return a moment to the subject of the rela- 
 tion between the internal sensation and the outward ob- 
 ject ; and again repeat, that the mental state and the cor- 
 responding outward object are altogether diverse. This 
 view holds good in the case of the secondary, as well as 
 of the primary qualities of matter. Whether we speak 
 of extension or resistance, or heat, or colour, or rough- 
 ness, there are in all cases alike, two things, the internal 
 affection and the outward quality ; but they are utterly 
 distinct, totally without likeness to each other. But how 
 it happens that one thing, which is totally different from 
 another, can nevertheless give us a knowledge of that, 
 from which it differs, it would be a waste of time to at- 
 tempt to explain. Our knowledge is undoubtedly limi- 
 ted to the mere fact. 
 
 This is one of those difficult, but decisive points in 
 mentyVL philosophy, of which it is essential to possess a 
 precise and correct understanding. The letters, which 
 cover over the page of a book, are a very different thing 
 from the thought, and the combinations of thought, which 
 they stand for. The accountant's columns of numerals 
 are not identical with the quantities and their relations, 
 which they represent. And so in regard to the mind ; all 
 its acts are of one kind, and what they stand for is of anoth- 
 er. The mind, in all its feelings and operations, is govern- 
 ed by its own laws, and characterizes its efforts by the es- 
 sential elements of its own nature. Nothing, which is 
 seen or heard, nothing which is the subject of taste or 
 touch or any other sense, nothing material, which can be 
 imagined to exist in any place or in any form, can furnish 
 the least positive disclosure either of its intrinisic nature 
 or of the mode of its action. 
 
 What then is the relation between the sensation and 
 the outward obj'ect, between the perception and the thing 
 perceived ? Evidently that of the sign and the thing sig^ 
 pified. And as in a multitude of cases, the sign may 
 
THE SENSE OF TOUCH. " 229 
 
 give a knowledge of its object without any other grounds 
 of such knowledge than mere institution or appointment, 
 so it is in this. The mind, maintaining its appropriate^ 
 action, and utterly rejecting the intervention of all ima- 
 ges and visible representations, except what are outward 
 and material and totally distinct from itself both in place 
 and nature, is notwithstanding susceptible of the knowl- 
 edge of things exteriour, and can form an acquaintance 
 with the universe of matter. 
 
 A misapprehension in this respect, the mistaken suppo- 
 sition of the .mind's either receiving actual filmy images 
 from external objects, or being itself transformed into the 
 likeness of such images, has been in times past the source 
 of much confusion and contention. But that opin^ion, 
 however prevalent it may have been once, is mere hy- 
 pothesis ; it has not the slightest well-founded evidence in 
 its favour. Still we can reject it wholly from our belief, 
 and from all influence on our belief, only by guarding 
 against early associations, by a rigid self-inspection, and 
 by carefully separating the material and the immaterial^ 
 the qualities of mind and of matter. 
 
CHAPTER SIXTH. 
 
 THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 
 
 §. 172. Of the organ of sight and the uses or benefits of 
 that sense. 
 
 Of those instruments of externaf perception, with 
 which a benevolent Providence has favoured us, a high 
 rank must be given to the sense of seeing. If we were 
 restricted in the process of acquiring knowledge to the in- 
 formations of the touch merely, how many embarrassments 
 would attend our progress, and how slow it would prove ! 
 Having ever possessed sight, it would be many years before 
 the most acute and active person could form an idea of a 
 mountain or even of a large edifice. But by the ad- 
 ditional help of the sense of seeing, he not only observes 
 the figure of large buildings, but is in a moment possessed 
 of all the beauties of a wide and variegated landscape. 
 
 The organ of this sense is the eye. On a slight exam- 
 ination the eye is found to be a sort of telescope, having 
 its distinct parts, and discovering throughout the most ex- 
 quisite construction. The medium, on which this org^in 
 acts, are rays of light, every-where diffused, and always 
 advancing, if they meet with no opposition, in direct 
 lines. The eye like all the other senses not only receives 
 externally the medium, on which it acts ; but carries 
 the rays of light into itself; and on principles purely sci- 
 entific refracts and combines them anew. 
 
 It does not however fall within our plan to give a mi- 
 
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 231 
 
 nute description of the eye, which belongs rather to the 
 anatomist ; but such a description, with the statement of 
 the uses of the different parts of the organ must be to a 
 candid and reflecting mind a most powerful argument in 
 proof of the existence and goodness of the Supreme Be- 
 incr. How wonderful among other things is the adapta- 
 tion of the rays of light to the eye ? If these rays were 
 not of a texture extremely small, they would cause much 
 pain to the organ of vision, into which they so rapidly 
 pass. If they were not capable of exciting within us U^e 
 sensations of colour, we should be deprived of much of 
 that high satisfaction, which we now take in beholding 
 surrounding objects ; showing forth, wherever they are 
 to be found, the greatest variety and the utmost richness 
 of tints. 
 
 §. 173. Statement of the mode or process in visual perception* 
 
 In the process of vision, the rays of light, coming 
 from various objects and in various directions, strike in 
 the first place on the pellucid or transparent part of the 
 ball of the eye. 
 
 If they were to continue passing on precisely in the 
 same direction, they would produce merely one mingled 
 and indistinct expanse of colour. In their progress how- 
 ever through the chrystaline humour, they are refracted 
 or bent from. their former direction, and are distributed to 
 certain focal points on the retina, which is a white, fibrous 
 expansion of the optic nerve. 
 
 The rays of light, coming from objects in the field of 
 vision, whether it be more or less extensive, as soon as 
 they have been distributed on their distinct portions of 
 the retina, and have formed an image there, are immedi- 
 ately followed by the sensation or perception, which iS 
 termed sight. The image, which is thus pictured on the 
 retina, is the last step, which we are able to designate in 
 the material part of the process in visual perception ; the 
 mental state follows, but it is not in our power to trace, 
 even in the smallest degree, any physical connection be- 
 tween the optical image and the corresponding state of 
 
232 
 
 THE SENSE OF SIGHT, 
 
 the mind. All that we can say in this case is, that we 
 
 suppose them to hold to each other the relation of ante- 
 cedent and consequent by an ultimate law of our consti- 
 tution. 
 
 §. 174. Of the original and acquired perceptions oj sight. 
 
 In speaking of those sensations and perceptions, the 
 origin of which is generally attributed to the sense of sight, 
 it is necessary to make a distinction between those, which 
 are original, and those which are acquired. Nothing 
 is properly original with the sense of sight but the sensa- 
 tions of colours, as red, blue, white, yellow, &c. Tiiese 
 sensations, (or perceptions, as they are otherwise called, 
 when the internal feeling is combined with a reference to 
 the external cause,) are exceedingly numerous. In this 
 respect the intimations of the sense of sight stand on the 
 same footing with those of the taste and hearing ; although 
 distinctive names, in consequence of the difficulty of ac- 
 curately separating and drawing the line between each, 
 at-e given only in a few cases. All tl\,e sensations of colour 
 are original v/ith the sight ; and are not to be ascribed to 
 any other sense. 
 
 A part however of that knowledge, which we attri- 
 bute to the sight, and which has the appearance of being 
 immediate and original in that sense, is not so. Some of 
 its alleged perceptions are properly the results of sensa- 
 tions, combined not only with the usual reference to an exter- 
 nal cause, but with various other acts of the judgment. In 
 some cases the combination of the acts of the judgment 
 with the visual sensation is carried so far, that there is a 
 sort of transfer to the sight of the knowledge, which has 
 been obtained from some other source. And not unfre-- 
 quently, in consequence of a long and tenacious associa- 
 tion, we are apt to look upon the knowledge thus acquij-- 
 ed, as truly original with the seeing power. This will 
 suffice perhaps as a statement of the general fact, while 
 the brief examination of a few instances will Jielp to the 
 morethorough understanding of those acquired perceptions 
 of the sight, which are here referred to. 
 
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 233 
 
 *5.. 175. The idea of extension not originally from sight. 
 
 It is well known that there is nothing more common 
 than for a ptjrson to say, that he sees the length or breadth 
 of any external object ; that he sees its extent, &c. These 
 expressions appear to imply, (and undoubtedly are so un- 
 derstood,) that extension is a direct object of sight. 
 There is no question, that such is the common sentiment, 
 and that the outlines and surface of bodies, which they per- 
 manently expand, are supposed to be truly seen. An opin- 
 ion different from this might even incur the charge of 
 great absurdity. 
 
 But properly the notion of extension, as we have al- 
 ready seen, has its origin in the sense of touch. Being a 
 simple and elementary thought, it is not susceptible of 
 definition ; nor, when we consider it as existing outwardly 
 and materially, can we make it a matter of description 
 without running into the confusion of using synonymous 
 words. But whatever it is, (and certainly there can be 
 neither ignorance nor disagreement on that point, how- 
 ever much language may fail of conveying our knowl- 
 edge of it,) it is not to be ascribed to the sight. 
 
 The notion of extension is closely connected with ex- 
 ternality. It is not possible to form the idea of extension 
 from mere consciousness, or a reflection on what takes 
 place within us. But making a muscular eifort, and thus 
 applying the touch to some resisting body, we first have 
 the notion of outness ; and either from the same applica- 
 tion of that sense, or when we have repeated it continu- 
 ously on the same surface, we have the additional notion 
 of its being extended or spread, out. If a man were fixed 
 immovably in one place, capable of smelling, tasting, 
 hearing, and seeing, but without tactual impressions orig- 
 inating from a resisting body, he would never possess a 
 knowledge of either. Having first gained that knowl- 
 edge from the touch in the way just mentioned, he learns 
 in time what appearance extended bodies, which are of 
 course coloured, make to the eye. At a very early peri- 
 od, having ascertained that all coloured bodies are spread 
 30 
 
234 THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 
 
 ^ out or extended, he invariably associates the idea of ex- 
 tension with that coloured appearance. Hence he virtu- 
 ally and practically transfers the knowledge obtained by 
 one sense to another ; and even after a time imagines ex- 
 tension to be a direct object of sight, when in fact what is 
 seen is only a sign of it and merely suggests it. An af- 
 fection of the sense of touch is the true and original occa- 
 sion of the origin of this notion ;. and it becomes an idea 
 of sight only by acquisition or transference. 
 
 §. 176. Of the knowledge of the figure of bodies by the siglit. 
 
 Views similar to those, which have been already ad- 
 vanced, will evidently apply to the figure of bodies. We 
 acquire a knowledge of the figure or form of bodies 
 originally by the sense of touch. But it cannot be doubt- 
 ed, that this knowledge is often confidently attributed to 
 the sense of sight as well as the touch. Although there is 
 reason to believe, that men labour under a mistake in this, 
 it is not strange, when we trace back our mental history 
 to its earlier periods, that such a misapprehension should 
 exist. 
 
 A solid body presents to the eye nothing but a certain 
 disposition of colours and light. We may imagine our- 
 selves to see the prominencies or cavities in such bodies, 
 when in truth we see only the light or the shade, occa- 
 sioned by them. This light and shade, Iiowever, we learn 
 by experience to consider as the sign of a certain solid 
 figure. 
 
 A proof of the truth of this statement is, that a pain- 
 ter by carefully imitating the distribution of light and 
 shade, which he sees in objects, will make his work very 
 naturally and exactly represent not only the general out- 
 line of a body, but its prominencies, depressions, and 
 other irregularities. And yet his delineation, which 
 by the distribution of light and shade gives such various 
 representations, is on a smooth and plain surface. 
 
 It was a problem submitted by Mr. Molyneux to Mr. 
 Locke, whether a blind man, who has learnt the differ- 
 ence between a cube and a sphere by the touch, can, on 
 
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 535 
 
 being suddenly restored to sight, distinguish between 
 them, and tell, which is the sphere and which is the cube, 
 by the aid of what may be called his new sense merely ? 
 Arid the answer of Mr. Locke was in agreement with the 
 opinion of Molyneux himself, that he cannot. The blind 
 man knows what impressions the cube and sphere make 
 on the organ oi touchy and by that sense is able to distin- 
 guish between them ; but as he is ignorant what impres- 
 sion they will make on the organ of sight, he is not able 
 by the latter sense alone to tell, which is the round body, 
 and which is the cubic. 
 
 It was remarked, that solid bodies present to the eye 
 nothing but a certain disposition of light and colours. — 
 It seems to follow from this, that the first idea, which will 
 be conveyed to the mind on seeing a globe will be that of 
 a circle, variously shadowed with different degrees of 
 light. This imperfect idea is corrected in this way. 
 Combining the suggestions of the sense of touch with those 
 of sight, we learn by greater experience what kind of ap- 
 pearance solid convex bodies will make to us. That ap- 
 pearance becomes to the mind the sign of the presence of 
 a globe ; so that we have an idea of a round body by a 
 very rapid mental correction,whereas the notion first con- 
 veyed to the mind is truly that of apl#ie, circular surfoce, 
 on which there is a variety in the dispositions of light and 
 shade. It is an evidence of the correctness of this state- 
 ment, that in paintings plane surfaces, variously shaded, 
 represent convex bodies and with great truth and exact- 
 ness. 
 
 It appears then, that extension and figure are origin- 
 ally perceived, not by sight, but by touch. We do not 
 judge of them by sight, until we have learnt by our expe- 
 rience, that certain visible appearances always accompany 
 and signify the existence of extension, and of figure. 
 This knowledge we acquire at a very early period in 
 life, so much so, that we lose in a great measure the 
 memory both of its commencement and progress. 
 
236 
 
 THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 
 
 §. 177. Measurements of magnitude by the eye. 
 
 What has been said naturally leads us to the consider- 
 ation of MA.GNITUDE. This is a general term for Exten- 
 sion when we conceive of it not only as limited or bound- 
 ed, but as related to, and compared with other objects. 
 Although we make use of the eye in judging of it, it is to 
 be kept in mind, that the knowledge of magnitude is not 
 an original intimation of the sight, but is^at first acquired 
 by the aid of touch. So well known is this, that it has 
 been common to consider Magnitude under the two heads 
 of tangible or real, and visible or apparent ; the tangible 
 magnitude being always the same, but the visible varying 
 with the distance of the object. A man of six feet stature 
 is always that height, whether he be a mile distant, or 
 half a mile, or near at hand ; the change of place mak- 
 ing no change in his real or tangible magnitude. But 
 the visible or apparent magnitude of this man may be six 
 feet or not one foot, as we view him present with us and 
 immediately in our neighborhood, or at two miles' dis- 
 tance ; for his magnitude appears to our eye greater or 
 
 less, according as he is more or less removed. Hence 
 
 the general principle, that of two objects equally distant, 
 that, which has the greatest visible magnitude, Is supposed 
 to have the greatest tangible magnitude. 
 
 Amono^ the multitude of instances, which mi^^ht be 
 adduced in illustration of this principle, the following 
 statement to be found in the seventh number of the Edin- 
 burgh Journal of Science, is a striking one. In examin- 
 ing a dioramic representation of the inside of Rochester 
 cathedral, which produced the finest effect from the en- 
 tire exclusion of all extraneous light and of all objects, 
 excepting those on the picture itself, the writer of the 
 statement referred to was struck with an appearance of 
 distortion in the perspective, which he ascribed to the 
 canvass not hanging vertically. Upon mentioning this to 
 the gentleman, who exhibited the picture, he offered to 
 walk in front of it, and strike its surface with the palm of 
 jiis hand, to show that the canvass was freely suspended. 
 
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 237 
 
 Upon doing this, a very remarkable deception, or illusion 
 rather, took place. As his hand passed along, it gradually 
 became larger and larger, till it reached the middle, 
 when it became enormously larg?. It then diminished, 
 till it reached the other end of the canvass. 
 
 As the hand moved towards the middle of the picture, 
 it touched the parts of the picture more and more remote 
 from the eye of the observer ; and consequently the mind 
 referred the hand and the object in contact with it to the 
 same remote distance ; and consequently gave it a fic- 
 titious magnitude, corresponding with the visible figure it 
 presented, combined with the supposition of its being 
 placed at a distance. (See Edin. Journ. of Science, No. 
 VII, p. 90, and Art. Science, Edin. Ency.) 
 
 §. 178. Of objects seen in the mist and of the sun and moon 
 in the horizon. 
 
 In accordance w^ith the above mentioned principle it 
 happens, that objects, seen by a person in a mist, seem 
 larger than the life. Their faint appearance rapidly con- 
 veys to the mind the idea of being considerably removed 
 although they are actually near to us. And the mind im- 
 mediately draws the conclusion, (so rapidly as to seem a 
 simple and original perception,) that the object, having 
 the same visible or apparent magnitude, and yet supposed 
 to be at a considerable distance, is greater than other ob- 
 jects of the same class. So that it is chiefly the view of 
 the mind, a lav/ or habit of the intellect, which in this 
 particular case gives a fictitious expansion to bodies ; al- 
 though it is possible, that the result may in part be attrib- 
 uted to a difference in the refraction of the rays of light, 
 caused by their passing through a denser and less uniform 
 medium than usual. 
 
 These remarks naturally remind us of the well known 
 fact, that the sun and moon seem larger in the horizon 
 than in the meridian. Two reasons may be given for 
 this appearance ; and perhaps ordinarily they are combin- 
 ed together. — (.1) The horizon may seem more distant 
 than the zenith, in consequence of intervening objects. 
 
233 THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 
 
 We measure the distance of objects in part by means of 
 those that are scattered along between, and any expanse of 
 surface, where there are no such intervening objects, ap- 
 pears to us of less extent than it actually is. Now if the 
 rays of light form precisely the same image in the eye, but 
 the source of them is supposed to be further off in the 
 horizon than in the zenith, such have been our mental 
 habits that the object in the horizon will probably appear 
 the largest. — (2) Another reason of the enlarged appear- 
 ance of the sun and moon in the horizon is, that the rays 
 ' from them fall on the body of the atmosphere obliquely, 
 and of course are reflected downwards towards the 
 beholder, and subtend a larger angle at his eye. Hence, 
 as we always see objects in the direction of the ray just 
 before it enters the eye, if we follow the rays back in the 
 precise direction of their approach, they will present to 
 the eye the outlines of a larger object as their source, 
 than they would if they had not been refracted. — When 
 the atmosphere is not clear, but unusual masses of vapour 
 are accumulated in it, whether immediately around us or 
 any where else in the direction of the rays, the refraction 
 is increased, and the object proportionally enlarged. This 
 circumstance helps to explain the fact of the enlargement 
 jiot being uniform, but sometimes greater and at others 
 less. It may be added, that, on a principle practically the 
 same with that of refraction, there will be an increased 
 enlargement, when the disc of the sun or moon is seen 
 through distant woods ; the rays being separated and 
 IiST!Hf' , turned out of their course by the trunks and branches. 
 
 •'ffl 
 
 §. 179. Of the estimation of distance by sight. 
 
 We are next led to the consideration of distances as 
 made known and ascertained by the sight. By the dis- 
 tance of objects, when we use the term in reference to 
 ourselves, we mean the space, which is interposed between 
 those objects and our own position. It might be objected, 
 that space interposed is only a synonymous expression for 
 the thing to be defined. Nevertheless no one can be sup- 
 posed to be ignorant of what is meant. Even blind men 
 
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.. 239 
 
 have a notion of distance, and can measure it by the 
 touch, or by walking forward until they meet the distant 
 object. 
 
 The perception of distance by the sight is an acquired 
 and not an original perception ; although the latter was 
 universally supposed to be the fact, until comparatively 
 a recent period. 
 
 All objects in the first instance appear to touch the 
 eye ; but our experience has corrected so many of the rep- 
 resentations of the senses before the period, which we 
 are yet able to retrace by the memory, that we cannot 
 prove this by a reference to our own childhood and in- 
 fancy. It appears, however, from the statement of the 
 cases of persons born blind on the sudden restoration of 
 their sight. 
 
 "When he first saw, (says Cheselden, the anatomist, 
 when giving an account of a young man, whom he had 
 restored to sight, by couching for the cataract,) he was so 
 far from making any judgment about distance, that he 
 thought all objects touched his eye, as he expressed 
 it, as what he felt did his skin ; and thought no ob- 
 ject so agreeable as those, which were smooth and 
 regular, although he could form no judgment of their 
 shape or guess what it was in any object, that was plea- 
 sino^ to him." 
 
 This anatomist has further informed us, that he has 
 brought to sight several others, who had no remembrance 
 of ever having seen ; and that they all gave the same ac- 
 count of their learning to see, as they called it, as the 
 young man already mentioned, although not in so many 
 particulars ; and that they all had this in common, that 
 having never had occasion to move their eyes, they 
 knew not how to do it, and, at first, could not at all 
 direct them to a particular object ; but in time they ac- 
 quired that faculty though by slow degrees. 
 
 Blind persons when at first restored to sight, are una- 
 ble to estimate the distance of objects by that sense, but 
 soon observing, that certain changes in the visible appear- 
 ance of bodies always accompany a change of distance, 
 
240. 
 
 THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 
 
 they fall upon a method of estimating distance by the 
 visible appearance. And it would no doubt be found, if 
 it could be particularly examined into, that all mankind 
 come to possess the power of estimating the distances of 
 objects by sight in the same way. When a body is re- 
 moved from us and placed at a considerable distance, it 
 becomes smaller in its visible appearance, its colours are 
 less lively, and its outlines less distinct ; and we may ex- 
 pect to find various intermediate objects, more or fewer 
 in number corresponding with the increase of the distance, 
 showing themselves between the receding object and the 
 spectator. And hence it is, that a certain visible appear- 
 ance conves to be the sign of a certain distance. 
 
 Historical and landscape painters are enabled to turn 
 these facts to great account in their delineations. By 
 means of dimness of colour, indistinctness of outline, and 
 the partial interposition of other objects, they are enabled 
 apparently to throw back to a very considerable distance 
 from the eye those objects, which they wish to appear re-^ 
 mote. While other objects, that are intended to appear 
 near, are painted vivid in colour, large in size, distinct in 
 outline, and are separated from the eye of the spectator 
 by few or no intermediate objects. 
 
 §.180. Of the estimation of distance when unaided by interme- 
 diate objects. 
 
 As we depend in no small degree upon intermediate 
 objects in forming our notions of distance, it results, that 
 we are often much perplexed by the absence of such ob- 
 jects. Accordingly we find, that people frequently mis- 
 take, when they attempt to estimate by the eye the length 
 or width of unoccupied plains and marshes, generally ma- 
 king the extent less than it really is. For the same rea- 
 son they misjudge of the width of a river, estimating its 
 width at half or three quarters of a mile at the most, when 
 it is perhaps not less than double that distance. The 
 same holds true of other bodies of water ; and of all other 
 things, which are seen by us in a horizontal position, and 
 under similar circumstances. 
 
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 241 
 
 We mistake in the same way also in estimating the 
 height of steeples, and of other bodies, that are perpendic- 
 iilar, and not on a level with the eye, provided the height 
 be considerable. As the upper parts of the steeple out- 
 top the surrounding buildings, and there are no contiguous 
 objects with which to compare it, any measurement taken 
 by the eye must be inaccurate, but is generally less than 
 the truth. 
 
 Hence perhaps it is, that a man on the top of a steeple 
 appears smaller to those below, than the same man would 
 seem to the same person, and at the same distance on level 
 ground. A man on the earth's surface, placed at the 
 same distance, would probably appear nearly of his ac- 
 tual size. As we have been in the habit of measuring^ 
 horizontal distances by the eye, we can readily form a 
 nearly accurate opinion, whether a person be at an hun- 
 dred feet distance, or more or less ; and the mind imme- 
 diately makes an allowance for this distance, and corrects 
 the first visual representation of the size of the person so 
 rapidly that we do not remember it. But having never 
 been in the habit of measuring perpendicular distances, the 
 mind i;^ at a loss, and fails to make that correction, which 
 it would readily, and, as it were, intuitively make in the 
 case of objects on level ground. The mistake therefore 
 of his supposed nearness, combined with this perplexity, 
 causes the comparative littleness of the man on the steeple. 
 The fixed stars, when viewed by the eye, all appear to 
 be alike indefinitely and equally distant. Being scattered 
 over the whole sky, they make every part of it seem like 
 themselves at an indefinite and equal distance, and, there- 
 fore contribute to give the whole sky the appearance of 
 the inside of a sphere. Moreover, the horizon seems to 
 the eye to be further ofi'than the zenith ; because between 
 us and the former there lie many things, as fields, hills, 
 and waters, which we know to occupy a great space ; 
 whereas between us and the zenith there are no consider- 
 able things of known dimensions. And, therefore, the 
 heavens appear like the segment of a sphere, and less than 
 
 a hemisphere, in the centre of which we seem to stand. — 
 31 
 
oio THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 
 
 And the wider our prospect is, the greater will the sphere 
 appear to be and the less the segment. 
 
 In connection with what has been said, we are led to 
 maliethis further remark, that a change in the purity of 
 the air will perplex in some measure tho^^e ideas of dis- 
 tance which we receive from sight. Bishop Berkeley re- 
 marks while travelling in Italy and Sicily, he noticed, that 
 cities and palaces, seen at a great distance, appeared near- 
 er to him by several miles than they actually were. The 
 cause of this he very correctly supposed to be the purity 
 of the ItaHan and Sicilian air, which gave to objects at a 
 distance a degree of brightness and distinctness, which, in 
 the less clear and pure atmosphere of his native country, 
 could be observed only in those towns and separate edifi- 
 ces, which were near. At home he had learnt to estimate 
 the distance of objects by their appearance ; but his con- 
 clusions failed him, when they came to be applied to ob- 
 jects in countries, where the air was so much clearer. 
 
 iVnd the same thing has been noticed by other travellers, 
 who have been placed in the like circumstances. 
 
 § . 181. Of the senses considered as a foundation of belief 
 and knowledge. 
 
 It may be proper to recur here to the subject of the 
 senses, considered as one of the great sources of belief 
 and knowledge. This is a topic of so much importance 
 as to justify repeated efforts to place it on a right founda- 
 tion and to do away objections. It may be asserted with- 
 out fear of contradiction, that we find in the daily conduct 
 of men abundant evidence, that the senses are the founda- 
 tion, to a great extent, of their opinions, reasonings, and 
 actions. That objections have been made to a reliance 
 on the testimony of the senses is true ; and we have al- 
 ready endeavored to answer them, and place their futili- 
 ty in the true light. But in connection with the view, 
 which has now been taken of the senses, v/e are especially 
 prepared to express anew the sentiments, expressed in a 
 former section on this subject, that each of theseH>ses has 
 its allotted sphere, its appropriate acts and rcsponsibiliticij. 
 
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 543 
 
 This is an important idea in making up a proper estima- 
 tion of the senses, considered as a source of belief. 
 
 The imperfect examination of the senses, which we 
 have just gone through, evinces the truth of this remark. 
 It is the business, the appropriate function of the sense of 
 smelling to give us a knowledge of the odours of bodies. 
 When we have these sensations, we may be led from some 
 principle of the mind to look for the cause of them, but 
 nothing more. We do not learn from it what that cause 
 is. It is not pretended, that this sense alone can give us 
 the notion of an external, odoriferous body. The sense 
 of taste is equally limited with that of smell, but both, as 
 far as they go, are grounds of knowledge, and do not de- 
 ceive. It might no doubt be said, that they may be dis- 
 eased, and thus mislead us ; but the remarks of this sec- 
 tion go on the supposition, that the senses are in a sound 
 
 state. When we come to the sense of hearing, we find, 
 
 that the perceptions of sound have in part an acquired 
 character. The reference of a particular sound to a par- 
 ticular external cause always implies the previous exercise 
 of the sense of touch, also the exercise of that principle 
 of the mind, which is termed association, and of an act 
 of the judgment. But hearing, when in a sound state, is 
 always a ground of belief and knowledge, as far as the 
 mere sensation of sound is concerned ; and so far can be 
 most certainly trusted. 
 
 It is the appropriate business of the sense of sight, 
 against the testimony of which so many objections have 
 been made, to render us acquainted with the colours of 
 bodies. To say, therefore, that it leads us into errours 
 in respect to solidity, extension, size, direction, or dis- 
 tance, is but very little, or rather nothing to the purpose. 
 These are acquired perceptions, and have their origin m 
 another sense, that of touch. The visual sensations are 
 in these cases mere signs of the . knowledge, which we 
 have from another source. When therefore we separate 
 what belongs to the sight from what belongs to the touch, 
 and distinguish between them, it is impossible to fix the 
 charge of misrepresentation upon either. 
 
244 
 
 THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 
 
 And hence on the question, Whether our senses mis- 
 lead us, we are always to consider, to which of the senses 
 the particular ideas under review appropriately belong. 
 And in all cases when we are searching after truth, it be- 
 comes us to call in the aid of all the senses, and not to 
 consult one to the entire omission of the others. They 
 all make parts of one great and wonderful system, and 
 cannot be safely separated. When they are in a sound 
 state, when the ideas, of which they are the origin, are 
 properly discriminated, and further, when the intimations 
 of one sense are aided by those of another and by the gui- 
 dance of the reasoning power, which clearly ought not to 
 be excluded, we may then confidently expect to be led by 
 them into the truth, so far as our Creator designed, that 
 it should be made known to us. 
 
 §. 182. Illustrations oj the subject of the preceding section. 
 
 The views of the last section admit of some ilhistra- 
 tion in respect to the sun and moon. Those heavenly 
 bodies, as they come under the cognizance of the sight, 
 appear to be very small, but in point of fact are known 
 to be very large. Still in this very instance, (although 
 this is one of the cases most frequently referred to by 
 the expositors of the alleged weakness and errours of 
 the senses,) it cannot be shown, that there is any deception 
 practised upon us by that sense. It has sufficiently ap- 
 peared, that extension, figure, the magnitude, and the dis- 
 tance of bodies are not direct objects of sight, and that 
 our notions of them are not oiiginal in that sense, but are 
 acquired. While therefore we have a direct acquaintance 
 with colours by means of sight, it happens that, in estima- 
 ting the distance of objects by the same sense, we are ob- 
 liged to call in the aid of the intimations of the touch, and 
 to make use also of comparison and judgment. And 
 hence Ave are able to fix on this general principle, that 
 the apparent magnitude of an object will vary with its 
 distance. 
 
 It is clear, therefore, that there is no deception prac- 
 tised upon us. Wlicn .by such calculations as we are able 
 ito make, we have ascertained the distance of the sun and 
 
THE SENSE OF SIGHT. 245 
 
 moon, then every one is satisfied, that their apparent mag- 
 nitude or their appearance to the eye is just such as it 
 should be ; and that the eye gives to us precisely the 
 same representation as in any other instance of visible ob- 
 jects presented to it. It gives such a view of the object 
 as it Avas designed to give ; and teaches us here the same 
 as it teaches us constantly. 
 
 There are many instances, where the subject might be 
 placed in the true light, and where it would clearly ap- 
 pear, how far our knowledge from the senses extends, and 
 in what respects we must derive knowledge from some 
 other source. It is well known, (to take an illustration 
 not unfrequeatly referred to by writers,) that the vibra- 
 tions of a pendulum are affected by its geographical posi- 
 tion, the latitude where it is. Before this fact was as- 
 certained, a person, might readily have employed a pendu- 
 um of a given length as a measure of comparative dura- 
 tion at two distant points on the globe's surface. And 
 when he had done this, he might have been disposed to 
 declare on the authoriy of his senses and personal obser- 
 vation, that two portions of time, measured in different 
 latitudes, were the same, although they were in fact dif- 
 ferent. 
 
 But here comes the question. Are his senses to blame 
 for this mistake ? Not at all. The testimony of the sen- 
 ses and of observation, as far as it went, was correct. 
 The mistake is evidently to be attributed to erroneous de- 
 duction. The conclusion was bottomed on the great and 
 undoubted principle in reasoning, that the laws of nature 
 are uniform. But then there were various assumptions in 
 this particular case, viz, that the earth is circular and not 
 a spheroid, that the same quantiy of the attractive force 
 of the earth operates on the pendulum at every point on 
 the earth's surface. Sic, Here is the foundation of the mis- 
 take ; in certain facts precipitately assumed as grounds of 
 reasoning, and in the deductions from f them, and not in 
 
 the senses. Such instances, which might be multiplied 
 
 to almost any extent, tend to confirm the doctrine, that 
 the senses are justly regarded as an elementary law of 
 belief, and that they are foundations of real knowledge. 
 
CHAPTER SEVENTH, 
 
 HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 §. 183. Of the law of habit in general and its applications. 
 
 In almost every step of the mind's history we find ap- 
 plications of the Law of Habit, the outlines of which 
 have already been treated of. The general principle, laid 
 down as involved in that Law, was this, that the repetition 
 of any act, whether mental or bodily, increases the tenden- 
 cy to and the facility of that act. Of course it is a very dif- 
 ferent thing from mere Association, with which Dr. Brown 
 seems to have confounded it. So far from being identical 
 wi-th association, the latter is linder certain circumstances 
 greatly controlled and directed by it ; a fact, which clear- 
 ly implies a distinction in the two. 
 
 And it may be necessary to recall to mind here, that 
 there is a difference, not only in this but in all cases, be- 
 tween a LAW of the mind, and its susceptibilities, al- 
 though sometimes the same name is given to both. (See 
 §. 47.) Habit accordingly is not to be regarded in the light 
 of a mental power, but rather as a general principle or 
 fact, applicable to the action of such powers as the mind 
 possesses. It extends in its operation, as has been intima- 
 ted, not only to tlie cognitive part of our nature, but to 
 the heart ; to the emotions and passions as well as the 
 thoucrhts and intellections ; to the whole mind and even to 
 
HA^TS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 247 
 
 the body. As we pass along from the consideration of 
 the mind as influenced by outward objects to the consid- 
 eration of it, as influenced by its own inward acts, and 
 from the intellectual to the sentient, or as it is sometimes 
 termed, the active part of our constitution, we shall find 
 evidence of this. And the discovery will unfold views oi 
 human nature of the most practical kind, without coming 
 short of the highest degree of interest. In the present 
 connection we are to consider Habit in its relation to sen- 
 sation and PERCEPTION ; in other words as applicable to 
 the mental acts, considered as caused by outvv^ard objects 
 through the medium of the senses. 
 
 §. Ic4. Of habit in relation to the smell. 
 
 We shall consider the application of the principle to 
 the senses in the same order that has already been observ- 
 ed. In the first place, there are habits of Smell. This 
 
 sense like the others is susceptible of cultivation. As there 
 are some persons, v/hose power of distinguishing the dif- 
 ference of two or more colours is feeble ; so there are 
 some, who are doubtful and perplexed in like manner in 
 the discrimination of odours. And as the inability may 
 be overcome in some measure in the former case, so it 
 may be in the latter. The fact, that the powers of which 
 the smell is capable are not more frequently brought out 
 and quickened is owing to the circumstance, that it is not 
 ordinarily needed. It sometimes happens, however, that 
 men are compelled to make an uncommon use of it, when 
 by a defect in the other senses they are left without the 
 ordinary helps to knowledge. It is then we see the ef- 
 fects of the law of Habit. It is stated in Mr. Stewart's 
 Account of James Mitchell, who was deaf, sightless, and 
 speechless, and of course strongly induced by his unfor- 
 tunate situation to make much use of the sense we are 
 considering, that his smell would immediately and invari- 
 ably inform him of the presence of a stranger, and direct 
 to the place where he might be ; and it is repeatedly as- 
 serted, that this sense had become in him extremely 
 a^ute. 
 
248 HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 In an interesting account of a deaf, dumb, anH blind 
 girl in tbe Hartford Asylum recently published, statements 
 are made on this subject of a similar purport. — "It has 
 been observed (says the writer) of persons, who are de- 
 prived of a particular sense, that additional quickness, or 
 vigour seems to be bestowed on those which remain. 
 Thus blind persons are often distinguished by peculiar ex- 
 quisiteness of touch, and the deaf and dumb, who gain all 
 their knowledge through the eye, concentrate, as it were, 
 their whole souls in that channel of observation. With 
 her whose eye, ear, and tongue are alike dead, the capa- 
 bilities both of touch and smell are exceedingly heightened. 
 Especially the latter seems almost to have acquired the 
 properties of a new sense, and to transcend the sagacity 
 even of a spaniel." — Such is the influence of habit on the 
 intimations of the sense under consideration. 
 
 §. 185. Of habit in relation to the taste. 
 
 The same law is applicable to the Taste. We see the 
 results of tlie frequent exercise of this sense in the quick- 
 ness, which the dealer in wines discovers in distinguisli- 
 inff the flavour of one wine from that of another. It is 
 no secret also what a wonderful perception of this kind 
 professed epicures acquire. If it were not a law of our 
 nature, that our sensations become acute and discrimina^ 
 ting by repeated exercise, how many reputations of cooks 
 and confectioners would have been saved ; and how many 
 grave discussions over the birds of the air and the fishes 
 of the sea would have fallen to the ground for lack of ar- 
 gument ! 
 
 Another practical view of this subject, however, pre- 
 sents itself here. The sensations, which we experience 
 in this and other like cases, not only acquire by rep- 
 etition greater niceness and discrimination, but in- 
 creased strength ; (and perhaps the increased strength 
 is in all instances the foundation of the greater power 
 of discrimination.) On this topic we have a wide and 
 melancholy source of illustration. The bibber of wine 
 and the drinker of ardent spirits readily acknowledge^ 
 
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION, U9 
 
 that the sensation was at first only moderately pleasino-, 
 and perhaps in the very slightest degree. Every time 
 they carried the intoxicating potion to their lips, the sen- 
 sation grew more pleasing, and the desire for it waxed 
 stronger. Perhaps they were not aware that this process 
 was going on in virtue of a great law of humanity ; but 
 they do not pretend to deny the fact. They might indeed 
 have suspected at an early period, that chains were gath- 
 ering around them, whatever might be the cause ; but 
 what objection had they to be bound with links of flowers; 
 delightful while they lasted, and easily broken when ne- 
 cessary! But here was the mistake. Link was added to 
 link ; chain was woven with chain, till he who boasted 
 of his strength, was at last made sensible of his weak- 
 ness, and found himself a prisoner, a captive, a deformed^ 
 altered, and degraded slave. 
 
 There is a three-fold operation. The sensation of 
 taste acquires an enhanced degree of pleasantness ; the 
 feeling of uneasiness is increased in a corresponding meas- 
 ure, when the sensation is not indulged by drinking ; and 
 the desire, which is necessarily attendant on the uneasy 
 feeling, becomes in like manner more and more impera- 
 tive. To alleviate the uneasy feeling and this importu- 
 nate desire, the unhappy man goes again to his cups, and 
 with a shaking hand pours down the delicious poison. 
 What then ? He has added a new link to his chain ; at 
 every repetition it grows heavier and heavier ; till that, 
 whicli at first he bore lightly and cheerfully, now presses 
 him like a coat of iron, and galls like fetters of steel. 
 There is a great and fearful law of his nature bearing him 
 down to destruction. Every indulgence is the addition 
 of a new weight to what was before placed upon him, 
 thus lessening the probability of escape, and accelerating 
 his gloomy, fearful, and interminable sinking. We do not 
 mean to say, that he is the subject of an implacable desti- 
 ny, and cannot help himself. But it would seem, that he 
 can help himself only in this way ; by a prompt, absolute;^ 
 and entire suspension of the practice in all its forms, which 
 has led him into this extremity. But few however have 
 
250 HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 the resolution to do this ; the multitude make a few un- 
 willing and feeble eiforts, and resign themselves to the 
 horrors of their fate. 
 
 Some years since there was a pamphlet published in 
 England, entitled the Confessions of a Drunkard. Tlie 
 statements made in it are asserted on good authority to be 
 authentic. And what does the writer say ? — " Of my 
 condition there is no hope that it should ever change ; the 
 waters have gone over me ; but out of the black depths 
 could I be heard, I would cry out to all those who have 
 but set a foot in the perilous flood. Could the youth to 
 whom the flavour of his first wine is delicious as the open- 
 ing scenes of life, or the entering upon some newly dis- 
 covered paradise, look into my desolation, and be made 
 to understand what a dreary thing it is, when a man shall 
 feel himself going dow^n a precipice with open eyes and a 
 passive will, — to see his destruction, and have no power 
 to stop it, and yet to feel it all the way emanating from 
 himself; to perceive all goodness emptied out of him, and 
 yet not be able to forget a time when it was otherwise ; to 
 bear about the piteous spectacle of his own self ruins : — 
 could he see my fevered eye, feverish with last night's 
 drinking, and feverishly looking for this night's repetition 
 of the folly ; could he feel the body of the deatli out of 
 which I cry hourly, with feebler and feebler outcry, to be 
 delivered ^it were enough to make him dash the spark- 
 ling beverage to the earth in all the pride of its mantling 
 temptation."^ 
 
 §. ISG. Of habit in relation to the hearing. 
 
 There is undoubtedly a natural diflerence in the quick- 
 ness and discrimination of hearing. This sense is more 
 acute in some than in others ; but in those, who possess it 
 in much natural excellence, it is susceptible of a high de- 
 gree of cultivation. Musicians are a proof of this, whose 
 sensibility to the melody and concord of sweet sounds 
 continually increases with the practice of their art. 
 
 This increase of sensibility in the perceptions of hearing 
 
 * London Quarterly Review, Vol. XXVII, p. 120. 
 
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 251 
 
 is especially marked and evident, when uncommon causes 
 have operated to secure such practice. And this i$ the 
 state of tilings with the Blind . The readers of Sir Walter 
 Scott may not have forgotten the blind fiddler, who fig- 
 ures so conspicuously with verse and harp in Red Gaunt- 
 let ; a character sufficiently extraordinarvj but by no 
 means an improbable exaggeration. The blind necessarily 
 rely much more than others on the sense of hearing. By 
 constant practice they increase the accuracy and power of 
 its perceptions. Shut out from the beauties that are seen, 
 they please themselves with what is heard, and greedily 
 drink in the soul of song. Accordingly music is made by 
 them not only a solace, but a business and a means of 
 support ; and in the institutions for the Blind this is con- 
 sidered an important department of instruction. 
 
 Many particular instances on record and well authen- 
 ticated confirm the general statement, that the ear may be 
 trained to habits, and that thus the sensations of sound 
 may come to us with new power and m.eaning. It is re- 
 lated of a celebrated blind man of Puiseaux in France, 
 that he could determine the quantity of fluid in vessels by 
 the sound it produced while running from one vessel into 
 another. Any person may ascertain the presence and ap- 
 proach of another without seeing him by the mere sound 
 of his voice; but there have been blind men, v. ho were 
 capable in consequence of being obliged from the lack of 
 sight to rely much on the hearing, of ascertaining the same 
 thing from the sound of their tread. Dr. Saunderson, who 
 became blind so early as not to remember having seen, 
 when happening in any new place, as a room, piazza, 
 pavement, court, and the like, gave it a character by 
 means of the sound and echo from his feet, and in that 
 way Vv^as able to identify pretty exactly the place, and as- 
 sure himself of his position afterwards. A writer in the 
 . First Volume of the Manchester Philosophical Memoirs, 
 who is our authority also for the statement just made, 
 speaks of a certain blind man in that city as follows ; — 'T 
 liad an opportunity of repeatedly observing the peculiar 
 manner, in which he arranged his ideas, and acquired 
 
252 HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 his information. Whenever he was introdiiceil into com- 
 pany, I remarked that he continued some time silent. The 
 sound directed him to judge of the dimensions of the 
 room ; and the different voices, of the number of persons 
 that were present. His distinction in these respects was 
 very accurate ; and his memory so retentive, that he was 
 seldom mistaken. I have known him instantly recognize 
 a person, on first hearing him, though more than two 
 years had elapsed since the time of their last meeting. He 
 determined pretty nearly the stature of those he was con- 
 versing with, by the direction of their voices ; and he 
 made tolerable conjectures respecting their tempers and 
 dispositions, by the manner in which they conducted their 
 conversation." 
 
 §. 187. Application of hahit to the touch. 
 
 The sense of touch like the others may be exceedingly 
 improved by habit. The more we are obliged to call it 
 into use, the more attention we pay to its intimations. By 
 the frequent repetition therefore under such circum- 
 stances, these sensations not only acquire increased intense- 
 ness in themselves ; but particularly so in reference to 
 our notice and remembrance of them. But it is desirable 
 to cpnfirni this, as it is all other principles from time to 
 time laid down, by an appeal to facts, and by careful in- 
 ductions from them. 
 
 Diderot relates of the blind man of Puiseaux men- 
 :tioned in the former section, that he was capable of judg- 
 ing of his distance from the fire-place by the degree of 
 heat, and of his approach to any solid bodies by the ac- 
 tion or pulse of the air upon his face. The same thing is 
 recorded of many other persons in a similar situation ; and 
 it may be regarded, as a point well established, that blind 
 people, who are unable to see the large and heavy bodies 
 presenting themselves in their way as they walk about, 
 generally estimate their approach to them by means of the 
 increased resistance of the atmosphere. A blind person, 
 owing to the increased accuracy of his remaining senses, 
 especially of the touch, would be betler trusted to go 
 
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 253 
 
 throu,2:li the various apartments of a house in the dark- 
 ness of inidnight, than one possessed of the sense of seeing 
 without any artificial light to guide him. 
 
 ., In the celebrated Dr. Saunderson, who lost his sight in 
 very early *yo^th, and remained blind through life, al- 
 though he occupied the professorship of mathematics in 
 the English University of Cambridge, the touch acquired 
 such accuteness, that he could distinguish, by merely let- 
 ting them pass through his fingers, spurious coins, which 
 were so well executed as to deceive even skilful judges 
 who could see.f 
 
 The caseof aMr. John Metcalf, otherwise called Blind 
 Jack, which is particularly dwelt upon by the author of 
 the Article in the Memoirs just referred to, is a striking 
 one. The writer stated, that he became blind at an early 
 period ; but notwithstanding, followed the profession of 
 a waggoner and occasionally of a guide in intricate roads, 
 during the night, or ^hen the tracks were covered with 
 snow. At length he became a projector and surveyor of 
 highways in difficult and mountainous districts ; an em- 
 ployment, for which one would naturally suppose a blind 
 man to be but indifferently qualified. But he was found 
 to answer all the expectations of his employers, and most 
 of the roads over the peak in Derbyshire in England were 
 altered by his directions. Says the person, who gives this 
 account of Blind Jack, " I have several times met this man 
 with the assistance of along staff traversing the roads, 
 ascending precipices, exploring vallies, and investigating 
 their several extents, forms, and situations, so as to answer 
 his designs in the best manner." 
 
 In the interesting Schools for the Blind, which have 
 been established in various parts of Europe, the pupils 
 read by means of the fingers. They very soon learn by 
 the touch to distinguish one letter from another,which are 
 made separately for that purpose of wood, metals, or oth- 
 ^r materials. The printed sheets which they use are con- 
 formed to their method of studying them. The types 
 are much larger than those ordinarily used in printing ; 
 
 t Memoirs of Manchester Philos. Society, Vol. I. p. 164. 
 
254 HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 the paper is very thick, and being put upon the types 
 while wet, and powerfully pressed, the letters on it are con- 
 sequently misef?, and appear in relief. The pupils havinc 
 before learnt to distinguish one letter from another, and 
 also to combine them into syllables and word's, are able 
 after a time to pass their fingers along the words and sen- 
 tences of these printed sheets, and ascertain their meanino- 
 with a good degree of rapidity. 
 
 Perhaps it may occasion some surprise, when we add, 
 that men may not only read by the touch, but may even 
 find a substitute for the hearing in that sense. Persons, 
 who were entirely deaf, have in some instances discovered 
 a perception of the proportion and harmony of sounds. 
 
 "It will scarcely be credited (says an English writer, 
 speaking of one in that situation,) that a person thus cir- 
 cumstanced should be fond of mudc ; but this was the 
 fact in the case of Mr. Arrowsmith. He was at a gentle- 
 man's glee club, of which 1 was president at that time, 
 and as the glees were sung, he would place himself near 
 some article of wooden furniture, or a partition, door, or 
 window shutter, and would fix the extreme end of his 
 finger nails, which he kept rather long, upon the edge of 
 some projecting part of the wood, and there remain until 
 the piece under performance was finished, all the while 
 expressing by the most significant gestures, the pleasure 
 he experienced from the perception of musical sounds. He 
 was not so much pleased with a solo, as with a pretty full 
 clash of harmony; and if the music was not very good, or, 
 I should rather say, if it was not correctly executed, he would 
 show no sensation of pleasure. But the most extraordi- 
 nary circumstance in this case is, that he was most evi- 
 dently delighted with those passages, in which the com- 
 poser displajred his science in modulating the different 
 keys. When such passages happened to be executed with 
 precision, he could scarcely repress tiie emotions of pleas- 
 ure which he received within any bounds ; for the de- 
 light he evinced seemed to border on extacy."* 
 
 * London Quarterly Review, Vol. XXVI, p. 404. 
 
HABITS OF SENSATION 'AND PERCEPTION. 255 
 
 §. 1 88. Habits considered in relation to the sight. 
 
 The law of liabit affects the sight also. By a course of 
 training this sense seems l^o acquire new power. The 
 length and acuteness of vision in the mariner, who has 
 long traversed the ocean, has been often referred to. 
 There are numerous instances to the same effect, oc- 
 casioned by the situations in which men are placed, and 
 the calls for the frequent exercise of that sense. The al- 
 most intuitive vision of the skilful engineer is beyond 
 doubt in most cases merely a habit. He has so often fixed 
 his eye upon those features in a country, which have a re- 
 lation to his peculiar calling, that he instantly detects the 
 bearing of a military position, its susceptibility of defence, 
 its facilities of approach and retreat, &c. 
 
 No man is born without the sense of touch, but many 
 are born without the sense of hearing; and whenever 
 this is the case, we are entitled to look for habits of sight. 
 Persons under such circumstances naturally and necessari- 
 ly rely much on the visual sense, whatevei* aids may be 
 had by them from the touch. Hence habits ; and these 
 imply increased quickness and power, wherever they ex- 
 ist. It is a matter of common remark, that the keenness 
 of visual observation in the deaf and dumb is strikingly 
 increased by their peculiar circumstances. Shut out from 
 the intercourse of speech, they read the minds of men in 
 their movements, gestures, and countenances. They 
 notice' with astonishing quickness, and apparently without 
 any effort, a thousand things, which escape the regards of 
 others. This fact is undoubtedly the foundation of the 
 chief encouragement, which men have to . attempt the 
 instruction of that numerous and unfortunate class of their 
 fellow beings. They can form an opinion of what another 
 says to them by the motion of the lips; and sometimes even 
 with a great degree of accuracy. That this last however is 
 common, it is not necessary to assert ; that it is possible, 
 we have the testimony of well autheiiticated facts. In 
 one of his letters. Bishop Burnet mentions to this effect the 
 case of a young lady of Geneva. '' At two years old 
 
256 HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 (he says) it was perceived, that she had lost her hearing, 
 and ever since, though she hears great noises, yet hears 
 nothing of what is said to her : but by observing the mo- 
 tion of the lips and mouths of others, she acquired so 
 many words, that out of these she lias formed a sort of 
 jargon in which she can hold conversation, whole days, 
 with those who can speak her language. She knows 
 nothing of what is said to her, unless she sees the motion 
 of their lips that speak to her : one thing will appear the 
 strangest part of the whole narrative. She has a sister 
 with whom she has practised her language more than with 
 any body else, and in the night, by laying her hands on 
 her sister's mouth, she can perceive by that what she says, 
 and so can discourse with her in the dark." (London 
 Quarterly Review, Vol. xxiv. p. 399.) 
 
 Such are 'the views, which have been opened to us, in 
 considering the law of habit in connection with the sen- 
 ses ; and we may venture to say with confidence, that 
 they are exceedingly worthy of notice. There are two 
 suggestions, which they are especially fitted to call up. 
 They evince the striking powers of the human mind, its 
 irrepressible energies, which no obstacles can bear down. 
 They evince also the benevolence of our Creator, who 
 opens in the hour of misery new sources of comfort, and 
 compensates for what we have not, by increasing the pow- 
 er and value of what we have. 
 
 §. 189. Sensations may possess a relative^ as well as positive 
 increase of power. 
 
 There remains a remark of some importance to be 
 made in connection with the general principle, which has 
 been brought forward, and as in some measure auxiliary 
 to it ; for it will help to explain the more striking instan- 
 ces of habits, if any should imagine, that the fact of mere 
 repetition is not sufficient to account for them. Our sensa- 
 tions and perceptions may acquire not only a direct and 
 positive, but a relative and virtual increase of power. 
 . This remark is thus explained. We shall hereafter 
 sec tlic truth of an important principle to this,'cficct, that 
 
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 257 
 
 there will be a weakness of remembrance iii any particular 
 case in proportion to the want of interest in it. Now hun- 
 dreds and thousands of our sensations and perceptions are 
 not remeaibered, because we take no interest in them. 
 Of course they are the same, relatively to our amount of 
 knowledge and our practice, as if they had never existed 
 at all. But when we are placed in some novel situation, 
 or w^hen in particular we are deprived of any one of the 
 senses, the pressure of our necessities creates that interest, 
 which was wanting before. Then we delay upon, and 
 mark, and remember, and interpret a multitude of evan- 
 escent intimations, which were formerly neglected. They 
 thus acquire a very considerable relative povver and val- 
 ue. And in order to make out a satisfactory explanation 
 of some instances of habits, it is perhaps necessary, that 
 this relative increase should be added to the direct and 
 positive augmentation of vigour and quickness, result- 
 ing from mere repetition or exercise. 
 
 §. 190. Whether the mind can attend to more than one object at 
 the same time. 
 
 In connection with what has been said in this chapter, 
 we are in some degree prepared to consider the question, 
 Whether the. mind can attend to more than one thing at 
 one and the same instant ? The cjuestion can perhaps be 
 stated more clearly thus ; Whether the mind can attend at 
 one and the same instant to objects, which we can attend 
 to separately ?-The question, when proposed as here, with- 
 out any limitation, hardly admits a discussion. If a rose 
 is presented to us, we can handle it ; w^e can inhale its fra- 
 grance, and behold its colours at the same moment. The "■ 
 mind exists in the states of seeing, smelling, and feeling at 
 once ; that is to say, it is in a complex state. Whereas if 
 the question, as above stated, were answered in the nega- 
 tive, complexity in the states of the mind would be an im- 
 possibility. 
 
 But the question may be further simplified, and propo- 
 sed thus ; viz. Whether we can, by means of one and the same 
 sense, simultaueously notice and attend to more than one 
 o3 
 
258 HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 object, which objects that sense is capable of attending to 
 separately ? — When the question is modified and stated in 
 this way, it seems to be the general sentiment, that the 
 mind notices only one thing at a time. 
 
 §. 191. On allending at the same time to different parts of 
 music. 
 
 But there are certain facts, which at first sight contra- 
 dict this doctrine, however generally it may have been en- 
 tertained. For instance, it is the opinion with very ma- 
 ny persons, that, in a concert of music, a good ear can at- 
 tend to different parts at the same time, and feel the full 
 efiect of the harmony. It is not denied, that they are fully 
 able to feel the effect of the harmony ; and it is also ad- 
 mitted, that they appear to attend to the different parts, 
 which combine to' form that harmony, at one and the same 
 instant. Bui this appearance, (for we conceive it to be 
 merely such,) is to be thus explained. 
 
 It has appeared in the course of this chapter, that our 
 sensations and external perceptions are susceptible of being 
 strengthened and quickened. By various examples it has 
 been seen, that they can be brought to an astonishing, degree 
 both of acuteness and rapidity of exercise. We may 'sup- 
 pose, therefore, that a habit has been formed in the case 
 under consideration, and that the mind passes from one part 
 of the music to the other with such quickness, as to give us 
 no perception of an interval of time. The operation is so 
 rapid, and the attention so slight, that there is no remem- 
 brance, and we are unable to recal the mental acts. Hence 
 we shall seem to be attending to all the parts at once. I'he 
 » apparent result will be the same, as if this were actually 
 the fact. But as this mere appearance may be otherwise 
 satisfactorily explained, it is not necessary to admit the 
 doctrine of originally coexistent perceptions of distinct and 
 separate sounds. 
 
 Nor is this all. It is to be remembered, that, in the 
 case under consideration, one sense only, the sense of hear, 
 ing, is employed. And it is a natural inquiry, if it can at- 
 
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 259 
 
 tend to more than one object at once, which it is capable 
 of attending to separately^ why may it not attend to three, 
 five, twenty, or more? An objection certainly arises here; 
 and furthermore, the opinion, that the mind can simulta- 
 neously attend to separate objects by means of a sino-le 
 sense, strikes at the root of what there is abundant reason 
 to consider a great and fixed law of our nature ; viz. That 
 the first intimarions from the separate senses are simple, 
 are uncompounded. 
 
 §. 192. The principle considered in reference to the outlines 
 and forms of objects. 
 
 The inquiry, which has just been attended to, may be 
 considered in reference to the outlines and forms of bodies. 
 In discussing the subject of attention, Mr. Stewart, in con- 
 nection with his views on that subject, introduces some 
 remarks in respect to vision. He makes this supposition, 
 That the eye is fixed in -a particular position, and the pic- 
 ture of an object is painted, on the retina. ' He then starts 
 this inquiry ; Does the mind perceive the complete figure 
 of the object at once, or is this perception the result of the 
 various perceptions we have of the different points in the 
 
 outline ? He holds the opinion, that the perception is 
 
 the result of our perceptions of the dioerent points in the- 
 oiitline, v/hich he adopts as naturally consequent on such 
 views, as the following ; the outline of every body is 
 made up of points or smallest visible portions ; no tvv^o of 
 these points can be in precisely the same direction ; there- 
 fore, every point by itself constitutes just as distinct an 
 object of attention to the mind, as if it were separated by 
 some interval of empty space from all other points. The 
 conclusion, therefore, is, as every body is made up of 
 parts, and as the perception of the figure of the whole 
 object implies a knowledge of the relative situation of 
 the different parts with respect to each other, that such 
 perception is the result of a number of different acts of 
 
 attention. 
 
 But if we adopt this ingenious explanation of Mr. 
 Stewart, it is incumbent upon us to show how it happens, 
 
260 HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 
 
 that we appear to see the object at once ? The answer 
 is that the acts of perception are performed with such 
 rapidity, that the eiTect with respect to us is the same, as 
 if it were instantaneous. A habit, has been formed ; the 
 glance of the mind, in the highest exercise of that habit ^ 
 is indescribably quick ; there is no remembrance ; time is 
 virtually annihilated ; and separate moments are to our 
 apprehension of them crowded into one. 
 
 §. 193, J^otice of some facts which favour the above doctrine. 
 
 There are various facts, which go to confirm Mr. 
 Stewart's doctrine as to the 'mode of the perception of 
 
 external objects. When we look for the first time on 
 
 any object, which is diversified with gaudy colours, the 
 mind is evidently perplexed with the variety of percep- 
 sions which arise ; the view is indistinct, which would not 
 be the case, if there were only one, and that an immedi- 
 ate perception. And even in paintings, which are of a 
 more laudable execution, the effects at the first percep- 
 tion will be similar.- — ^But there is another fact, which 
 comes still more directly to the present point. We find, 
 that we do not have as distinct an idea, at the first glance, 
 of a figure of an hundred sides, as we do of a triangle or 
 square. But we evidently should, if the perception of 
 visible figure were the immediate consequence of the pic- 
 ture on the retina, and not the combined result of the sep- 
 arate perceptions of the points in the outline. Whenever 
 the figure is very simple, the process of the mind is so 
 very rapid, that the perception seems to be instantaneous. 
 But when the sides are multiplied beyond a certain num- 
 ber, the interval of time necessary for these different acts 
 of attention becomes perceptible. We are then distinctly 
 conscious, that the mind labours from one part of the ob- 
 ject to another, and that some time elapses before we grasp 
 it as a whole. 
 
CHAPTER SEVENTH. 
 
 MUSCULxiR HABITS. 
 
 §. 194. Instances in proof of the existence of muscular habits. 
 
 From habits, considered as affecting the senses, the 
 transition is easy to muscular habits. On this subject there- 
 fore we shall now offer a few remarks. — Of the fact, that 
 such habits exist, it is presumed no doubt can be general- 
 ly entertained. Muscular habits may be detected in the 
 gait and in the speech of men generally ; they are found 
 V. ith specific characteristics in particular classes of men ; 
 every mechanic forms them, and they vary in their as- 
 pect with his particular business. Hence the enlarged and 
 powerful neck of the porter, the strong and brawny 
 arm of the blacksmith, and the particular habitudes of all 
 their movements. 
 
 But we will not delay on this part of the subject any 
 farther than to point out a familiar instance of it. It is 
 one of the most general kind, is of the most common oc- 
 currence, and yet perhaps has not often been made the 
 
 subject of particular attention. Every man's hand 
 
 writing is an instance, and a proof of Muscular habit. In 
 acquiring that art, the muscles have undergone a complete 
 system of instruction. That instruction and training they 
 practically and most punctually regard ever afterwards ; 
 50 much so that we can tell a man's writing, to which we 
 
262 
 
 MU&CULAR HABITS. 
 
 are accustoQied, almost as' readily as we recognize the man 
 himself when we see him. — But this subject is introduced 
 here, although the train of thought naturally led to it, not 
 so much for its own sake, as in consequence of its connec- 
 tion with Volition. ' 
 
 §. 195. Considered by some loriters to be involuntary. 
 
 It seems to have been the opinion of some writers, 
 '(among others of Drs. Reid and Hartley,) that bodily or 
 muscular habits operate in many cases without design and 
 volition on the part of the person who has formed them ; 
 and that as they are without any attendant thought, with- 
 out any preceding mental operation, such bodily acts are 
 to be considered as purely mechanical or automatic. They 
 endeavour to explain and confirm their views by the in- 
 stance of a person, learning to play on the harpsichord. 
 When a person first begins to learn, it is admitted by all, 
 that there is an express act of volition, preceding every 
 motion of the fingers. By degrees the motions appear to 
 cling to each other mechanically ; we are no longer con- 
 scious of volitions, preceding and governing them. In 
 other words there is nothing left but the motions ; there 
 js no act of the mind ; the performance, admirable as it 
 is, has the same character and the same merit with that of 
 the action of a well-contrived machine. 
 
 §. 196. Objections to the doctrine.of involuntary muscular 
 habits. * 
 
 In replying to these views, it may be safely admitted, 
 that, in playing the harpsichord and some other musi- 
 cal instruments, we have not always a distinct remem- 
 brance of volitions, and consequently the muscular effort 
 has sometimes the appearance of being independent of 
 the will. But this mere appearance is not sufiicient 
 to command our assent to the doctrine advanced by 
 these writers, until tiie four following objections be set 
 aside. 
 
 (1) The supposition, that the acts in question are au- 
 tomatic, is unnecessary. If it- be true, as we have repeat- 
 
MUSCULAR HABITS. 263- 
 
 edlv seen so much occasion to believe, that Habit is a gen- 
 eral law of our nature, then it may be regarded as appli- 
 cable not only to the muscular efforts, but to the preced- 
 ing volitions themselves. It is implied in this view, (suppo- 
 sing it to be a correct one,) that such volitions may be 
 very rapid, so as scarcely to arrest our attention a moment. 
 Now the natural result of such slight attention will be, 
 that they will exist and pass away without being remem- 
 bered. These considerations are sufficient to explain the 
 mere appearance, which is admitted to exist, but which 
 Reid and Hartly attempt to explain by an utter denial of 
 the putting forth of volitions at all. But if this be the 
 case, then the supposition, that the acts in question are 
 automatic and involuntary, is an unnecessary one. 
 
 (2) The most rapid performers are able, when they 
 please, to play so slowly, that they can distinctly observe 
 every act of the will in the various movements of the 
 fmgers. And when they have checked their motions so 
 as to be able to observe the separate acts of volition, they 
 can afterwards so accelerate tho^e motions, and of course 
 so diminish the power, (or what may be regarded as the 
 same thing, the time of attending to them,) that they can- 
 not recal the accompanying volitions. This is the ration- 
 al and obvious supposition, that there is not an exclusion 
 of volitions, but an inability to recollect them, on account 
 of the slight degree of attention. Any other view neces- 
 sarily implies an inexplicable jumble of voluntary and in- 
 voluntary actions in the same performance. 
 
 (3.) If there be no volitions, the action must be strict- 
 ly and truly automatic ; that is, it must, from the nature 
 of the case, be the motion of a machine. It must always 
 go on invariably in the same track, without turning to 
 the right hand or to the left. If this be the case in play- 
 ing the harpsichord, which is by no means probable,, it is 
 certainly not in some other instances of habits. It must 
 be supposed, that there is as much rapidity of volition put . 
 forth by the rope dancer, the equilibrist, the equestrian 
 actor of the circus, &c. as by the player on the harpsichord. 
 Now if it be admitted, that the o/dinary steps of the sin- 
 
264 
 
 MUSCULAR HABITS. 
 
 gular and surprising feats they perform are familiar to 
 them, still the process is evidently not an invariable one. 
 It may be pronounced impossible for them to perform ex- 
 periments, v^hich agree in every particular with preced- 
 ing experiments. They are necessarily governed in their 
 volitions and mbvements by a variety of circumstances, 
 which arise on every particular occasion, and which 
 could not be foreseen. Hence the muscular movements in 
 these cases, being controlled by the will, are not mechani- 
 cal ; and as we have abundant reason to believe them often 
 not less rapid in the performance, than the muscular move- 
 ments are in playing the harpsichord, why should we con- 
 sider these last mechanical and not voluntary ? 
 
 (4) If the hypothesis of Reid and Hartley be true, 
 then there is some general tendency or principle in our 
 nature, by which actions originally voluntary are convert- 
 ed into mechanical actions. Nor will it be ea?y to gho\V, 
 why this principle should not extend further than mere 
 bodilv movements. It will be the result of this tendency 
 to wrest all those powers which it reaches, whether bodi- 
 ly or mental, from the control of the will. In other words, 
 when we consider the extent of its application, and its 
 wonderful results, wherever it applies, we must conclude, 
 that this principle will infallibly make men machines, 
 mere automatons, before theyhave lived out half their 
 f]r^ys. — Such are some of the objections to the doctrine^ 
 that muscular habits are involuntary. 
 
CHAPTER NINTH. 
 
 CONCEPTIONS. 
 
 §. 197. Meaning of conceptions and how they differ from certain 
 other states of the mind. 
 
 We are now led, as we advance in the general sub- 
 ject of intellectual states of exter^"al origin, to contem- 
 plate the mind in another view, viz, as employed in giv- 
 ing rise to what are usually termed conceptions. With- 
 out professing to propose a definition in all respects unex- 
 ceptionable, we are entitled to say in general terms, that 
 this name is given to any re-existing sensations whatever, 
 which the mind has felt at some former period, and to the 
 notions, which we frame of absent objects of perception. 
 Whenever we have conceptions, our sensations and per- 
 ceptions are replaced, as Shakspeare expresses it, in the 
 **mind's eye," without our at all considering at what time, 
 or in what place they first originated. In other words, 
 they are revived and recalled, and nothing more. 
 
 Using therefore the term conceptions to express a class of 
 mental states, and in accordance with the general plan, 
 having particular reference in our remarks here to such as 
 are of external origin, it may aid in the better understand- 
 ing of their distinctive character, if we mention more 
 particularly, how they differ both from sensations and 
 perceptions, and also from remembrances, with which last 
 some may imagine them to be essentially the same. 
 34 
 
:Go 
 
 CONCEPTIONS. 
 
 I, — Conceptions diifer from the ordinary sensations and 
 perceptions in this respect, that both their causes and their 
 objects are absent. When the rose, the hoiieysuckle, or 
 other odoriferous body is presented to us, the effect, which 
 follows in the mind, is termed a sensation. When we 
 afterwards think of that sensation, (as we sometimes ex- 
 press it,) when the sensation is recalled even thoiigli vei-y 
 imperfectly, without the object which originally caused it 
 being present, it then becomes, by the use of language, 
 a conception. And it is tiie same in any instance of per- 
 ception. When, in strictness of. speech, we are said 
 to perceive any thing, as a tree, a building, or a moun- 
 tain, the objects of our perceptions are in all cases before 
 ui!. But we may form conceptions of them, that may be 
 recalled and exist in the mind's e^/e, however remote they 
 may be in fact, both in time and place. 
 
 II,— They differ also from remembrances or ideas of 
 memory. We take no account of the period, when those 
 subjects, which laid the foundation of them were present ; 
 wdiereas in every act of the memory there is combined 
 with the conception a notion oi tlie past. Hence as those 
 states of mind, which we call conceptions, possess these 
 distinctive marks, they are well entitled to a separate 
 name. 
 
 Conceptions being merely mental states or acts of a 
 particular kind are regulated by the general laws of tht; 
 intellect; and make their appearance and disappearance 
 on the principles of association. Those principles have 
 
 been explained in a former chapter. Whenever at any 
 
 time we may use the phrase '' power of conception" or 
 "faculty of conception," nothing more is to be under- 
 stood by such expressions than this, that there is in the 
 mind a susceptibility of feelings or ideas possessing the 
 marks, which we have ascribed to this class. 
 
 ^. 198. Of concepiicns of objects of sight. 
 
 One of the striking fc\cts in regard to our conceptions 
 is, that we can far more easily conceive of the objects of 
 some seiises than of others. Suppose a person to have 
 
CONCEPTIONS. 267 
 
 travelled abroad, andtohave seen among the achievements 
 of human effort St. Peter's church, the Vatican, and the 
 Pyramids, or to have visited among nature's still great- 
 er works the cataract of Niagara and the falls of St. An- 
 thony, or any other interesting object of sight ; it is well 
 known, that the mind of this person afterwards even for 
 many years very readily forms a conception of those ob- 
 jects. Such ideas are so easily and so distinctly recalled, 
 that it is hprdly too much to say of them, that they seem 
 to exist as permanent pictures in the mind. It is quits 
 different with a particular sound, which we have forjner- 
 ly Iieard, and with a particular taste, or any pleasant or 
 painful sensations of the touch, which we have formerly 
 experienced. When the original perceptions have in these 
 last cases departed^ we find that the ideas do not readily 
 exist again in the absence of tlieir appropriate objects, and 
 never with the.distiiTctness, which they possessed at firs?. 
 Ideas of visible objects, therefore, are more readily re- 
 called, or we can more easily form conceptions of such 
 objects, than we can of the objects of the other senses. — 
 This peculiarity in the case of visible objects may be thus 
 partially explained. 
 
 Visible objects or rather the outlines of them are com- 
 plex ; that is, ^they are made up of a great number 
 of points or very small portions. Hence the conception, 
 which we form of such an object as a v*diole, is aided by 
 the principles of association. The reason is obvious. As 
 every original perception of a visible object is compound, 
 made up of many parts, whenever we subsequentl}'' have a 
 conception of it, the process is the sasiie ; v/e have a con- 
 ception of a part of the object, and the principles of asso- 
 ciation help us in conceiving of the other parts. Associa- 
 tion connects the parts together ; it presents them to the 
 mind in their proper arrangement, and helps to sustain 
 them there. 
 
 We are not equally aided by the laws of association in 
 forming our conceptions of the objects of the other sen- 
 ses. When we think of some sound, or taste, or touch, 
 the object of our conception is either a single detached 
 
268 
 
 CONCEPTIONS. 
 
 sensation, or a series of sensations. In every siich detacli- 
 ed sound, or taste, or sensation of touch, whether we con- 
 sider it at its first origin or when it is subsequently recalled, 
 there is not of course that association of the parts, which 
 we suppose to exist in every visual perception, and which 
 must exist also in every conception of objects of sight, 
 which subsequently takes place. Accordingly our concep- 
 tions of the latter objects arise more readily, and are more 
 distinct than of the others. — There is a greater readiness 
 and distinctness also, when there is a series of sensations and 
 perceptions, for the visual conceptions are aided by asso- 
 ciation both in time and place, but the others only in time. 
 
 §. 199. Of the influence of habit on our conceptions. 
 
 It is another circumstance worthy of notice in regard 
 to conceptions, that the power of forming them depends 
 
 in some measure on habit. A few instances will help 
 
 to illustrate the statement, that what is termed Habit may 
 extend to the susceptibility of conceptions ; and the first 
 to be given will be of conceptions of sounds. Our con- 
 ceptions of sounds are in general very indistinct, as appear- 
 ed in the last section. But a person may acquire the pow- 
 er of amusing himself with reading written music. Hav- 
 ing frequently associated the sounds with the notes, he has 
 at last such a strong conception of the sound that he ex- 
 periences, by merely reading the notes, a very sensible 
 pleasure. It is for the same reason, viz, because our as- 
 sociations are strengthened by habit, that readers may en- 
 joy the harmony of poetical numbers without at all ar- 
 ticulating the words. In both cases they truly hear noth- 
 ing, but there is a virtual melody in the mind. 
 
 That our power of forming conceptions is strengthen- 
 ed by habit is capable of being further illustrated from the 
 sight. A person, who has been accustomed to drawing, 
 retains a much more perfect notion of a building, land- 
 scape, or other visible object, than one who has not. A 
 portrait painter, or any person, who has been in the prac- 
 tice of drawing such sketches, can trace the outlines of 
 jthe human form with very great ease ; it requires hardly 
 
CONCEPTIONS. 269 
 
 more effort from them than to write their names. — This 
 point may also be illustrated by the difference, which 
 we sometimes notice in people in their conceptions of col- 
 ours. Some are fully sensible of the difference between 
 two colours when they are presented to them, but cannot 
 with confidence give names to these colours when they see 
 them apart, and may even confound the one with the oth- 
 er. Their original sensations or perceptions are supposed 
 to be equally distinct with those of other persons ; but 
 their subsequent conception of the colours is far from be- 
 in o- so. This defect arises partly at least from want of 
 practice, that is, from their not having formed a habit. 
 The persons, who exhibit this weakness of conception, 
 have not been compelled by their situation, nor by mere 
 inclination, to distinguish and to name colours so^muchas 
 is common. 
 
 §. 200. Of the subserviency of our conceptions to description. 
 
 It is highly favorable to the talent for lively descrip- 
 tion, when a person's conceptions are readily suggested 
 and are distinct. Even such an one's common conversa- 
 tion differs from that of those, whose conceptions arise 
 more slowly, and are more faint. One man, whether in 
 conversation or in written description, seems to place the 
 object, which he would give us an idea of, directly^be- 
 fore us ; it is represented distinctly and to the life. Anoth- 
 er, although not wanting in a command of language, is 
 confused and embarrassed amid-a multitude of particulars, 
 which, in consequence of the feebleness of his conceptions, 
 he finds himself but half acquainted with ; and he, there- 
 fore, gives us but a very imperfect notion of the thing 
 which he would describe. 
 
 It has been by some supposed, that a person might 
 give a happier description of an edifice, of a landscape, or 
 other object, from the conception than from the actual 
 perception of it. The perfection of a description does not 
 always consist in a minute specification of circumstances ; 
 in general the description is better, when there is a judi- 
 cious selection of them. The best rule for making the se- 
 
270 
 
 CONCEPTIONS. 
 
 lection is, to attend to the particulars, that make the deep- 
 est impression on our own minds, or, what is the same 
 thing, that most readily and distinctly take a place in our 
 conceptions. — When the object is actually before us, it is 
 extremely difficult to compare the impressions, which dif- 
 ferent circumstances produce. When we afterwards con- 
 ceive of the object, we possess merely the outline of it ; 
 but it is an outline made up of the most striking circum- 
 stances. Those circumstances, it is true, will not impress 
 ail persons alike, but will somewhat vary with the degree 
 of their taste. But when with a correct and delicate 
 taste any one combines lively conceptions, and gives a des- 
 cription from those conceptions, he can hardly fail to suc- 
 ceed in it. 
 
 §. 201 . Of conceptions attended with a momentary belief. 
 
 Our conceptions are sometimes attended with belief; 
 when they are very lively, we are apt to ascribe to them 
 a real outward existence, or believe in them. We do not 
 undertake to assert, that the belief is permanent ; but a 
 number of facts strongly lead to the conclusion, that it 
 has a momentary existence. 
 
 (i) A painter, in drawing the features, and bodily form 
 of an absent friend, may have so strong a conception, so 
 vivid a mental picture, as to believe for a moment that his 
 friend is before him. After carefully recalling his thoughts 
 at such times and reflecting upon them, almost every pain- 
 ter is ready to say, that he has experienced some illusions 
 of this kind. It is true, the illusion is very short, because 
 the intensity of conception, Avhich is the foundation of it, 
 can never be kept up long when the mind is in a sound 
 state. Such intense conceptions are unnatural. And, fur- 
 ther all the surrounding objects of perception, which no 
 one can altogether disregard for any length of time, every 
 now and then check the illusion and terminate it. 
 
 {2) When a blow is aimed at any one, although in sport, 
 and he fully knows it to be so, he forms so vivid a con- 
 ception of what might possibly be the effect, that his be- 
 lief is for a moment controlled, and he unavoidably shrinks 
 
CONCEPTIONS. 271 
 
 back from it. Again, place a person on the battlements 
 
 of a high tower; his reason tells him he is in no danger; he 
 knows he is in none. But after all he is unable to look 
 down from the battlements without fear ; his conceptions 
 are so exceedingly vivid as to induce a momentary belief 
 of danger in opposition to all his reasonings. 
 
 (3) When we are in pain from having struck our foot 
 against a stone, or when pain is suddenly caused in us by 
 any other inanimate object, we are apt to vent a momen- 
 tary rage upon it. That is to say, our belief is so affec- 
 ted for an instant, that we ascribe to it an accountable 
 existence, and would punish it accordingly. It was an im- 
 pulse of human nature, (though doubtless a singular exhi- 
 bition of it,) when Xerxes, falling into a transport of 
 rage with the Hellespont for having broken up and wash- 
 ed away his bridge, ordered it to be beaten with three 
 hundred stripes^ It is on the principle of our vivid con- 
 ceptions being attended with belief, that poets so often as- 
 cribe life, and agency, and intention to the rains and winds, 
 to storms, and thunder, and lightning. How natural are 
 the expressions of King Lear, overv/helmed with the in- 
 gratitude of his daughters, and standing with his old head 
 bared to the pelting tempest ! 
 
 " Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters, 
 " I tax not you, ye elements, with unkindness ; 
 " I never gave you kingdoms, called you children." 
 
 (4) There are persons, who are entirely convinced of 
 the folly of the popular belief of ghosts and other nightly 
 apparitions, but who cannot be persuaded to sleep in a 
 room alone, nor go alone into a room in the dark. When- 
 ever they happen out at night, they are constantly looking 
 on every side ; their quickened conceptions behold ima- 
 ges, which never had any existence except in their own 
 minds, and they are the subjects of continual disquiet and 
 even terror. 
 
 " It was my misfortune, (says Dr.Priestly,) to have the 
 idea' of darkness, and the ideas of invisible malignant 
 spirits and apparitions very closely connected in my in- 
 fancy ; and to this day, notv/ithstanding I believe nothing 
 
272 
 
 CONCEPTIONS. 
 
 of those invisible powers, and consequently of their con- 
 nection with darkness, or any thing else, I cannot be per- 
 fectly easy in every kind of situation in the dark, though 
 I am sensible I gain ground upon this prejudice continu- 
 ally." 
 
 In all such cases we see the influence of the prejudices 
 of the nursery. Persons, who are thus afflicted, were 
 taught in early childhood to form conceptions of ghosts, 
 hobgoblins, and unearthly spirits ; and the habit still con- 
 tinues. It is true, when they listen to their reasonings and 
 philosophy, they may well say that they do not believe in 
 such things. But the effect of their philosophy is merely 
 to check their belief; not in one case in a thousand is the 
 belief entirely overcome. Every little while, in all soli- 
 tary places, and especially in the dark, it returns and when 
 banished returns again ; otherwise we cannot give an ex- 
 planation of the conduct of these persons. 
 
 § . 202 . Conceptions which are joined with perceptions. 
 
 The belief in our mere conceptions is the more evident 
 and striking, whenever they are at any time joined with 
 our perceptions. — A person walking in a field, (to take a 
 familiar instance and which every one will understand,) in 
 a thick foggy morning, perceives something, no matter 
 what it is ; but he believes it to be a man, and does not 
 doubt it. In other words, he truly perceives some object, 
 and, inadditon to that perception, has a mental conception 
 of a man, attended with belief. When he has advanced a 
 a few feet further, all at once he perceives, that what he 
 conceived to be a man is merely a stump with a few large 
 stones piled on its top. He perceived at first, as plainly 
 or but little short of it, that it was a stump, as in a mo- 
 ment afterwards ; there were the whole time very nearly 
 the same visible form and the same dimensions in his eye. 
 But whatever he had in his eye, he certainly had in his 
 mind the conception of a man, which overruled and annull- 
 ed the natural efiects of the visual perception ; the concep- 
 tion being associated with a present visible object acquir- 
 ed peculiar strength and permanency, so much so that he 
 
CONCEPTIONS. 273 
 
 truly and firmly believed, that a human being was before 
 him. But the conception has departed ; the present ob- 
 ject of perception has taken its place, and it is now impos- 
 sible for him to conjure up the phantom, the reality of 
 which he but just now had no doubt of. 
 
 In his Voyage of Discovery to the Arctic Regions, 
 Capt. Ross mentions an incident, illustrative of the power 
 and fruitfulness of our conceptions, when upheld by the 
 actual presence of objects. It will be recollected, that the 
 immense masses of ice, which are found floating in the po- 
 lar seas, often display a variety of the most brilliant hues< 
 Speaking of one of these ice-bergs as they are called, which 
 he early fell in with, and which was about forty feet high 
 and a thousand feet long, '^ imagination, he says, painted 
 it in many grotesque figures ; at one time it looked some- 
 thing like a white lion and horse rampant, which the quick 
 fancy of sailors, in their harmless fondness for omens, nat- 
 urally enough shaped into the lion and unicorn of the 
 king's arms, and they were delighted accordingly with 
 the good luck it seemed to augur." 
 
 But it is mmecessary to resort to books for illustrations 
 of this topic. Multitudes of persons have a conceptive 
 facility of creations, which is often troublesome and per- 
 plexing ; especially in uncommon situations, and in the 
 night. And in all cases this tendency is greatly strength- 
 ened, whenever it can lay hold of objects, the outlines of 
 which it can pervert to its own purposes. 
 
 Many a person has waked up in the night and has firmly 
 believed, that he saw a form clothed in white, standing in an 
 erect position at some part of the room, but in a moment 
 after the imaginary visitant has vanished, and there is 
 nothing left but the reflection of the moonbeams on the 
 wall. 
 
 In all cases of this kind, where the conceptions are 
 upheld, as it were, by present objects of perception, and 
 receive a sort of permanency from them, nothing is better 
 known, than that we often exercise a strong and unhesi- 
 tating belief. These instances, therefore, can properly be 
 S5 
 
274 
 
 CONCEPTIONS. 
 
 "i 1 
 
 considered as illustrating and confirming the views in the 
 preceding section. 
 
 <5. 203. Of our conceptions at tragical representations. 
 
 These observations suggest an explanation, at least in 
 part, of the effects, which are produced on the mind by- 
 exhibitions of fictitious distress. In the representation of 
 tragedies, it must be admitted, that there is a general con- 
 viction of the whole being but a fiction. But, although 
 persons enter the theatre with this general conviction, it 
 does not always remain with them the whole time. At 
 certain passages in the poet peculiarly interesting, and at 
 certain exhibitions of powerful and well-timed efi'ort in 
 the actor, this general impression, that all is a fiction, fails. 
 The feelings of the spectator may be said to rush into the 
 scenes ; he mingles in the events ; carried away and lost, 
 he for a moment believes all to be real, and the tears gush 
 at the catastrophe which he witnesses. The explanation, 
 therefore, of the emotions felt at the exhibition of a trag- 
 edy, such as indignation, pity, and abhorrence, is, that at 
 certain parts of the exhibition we have a momentary be- 
 lief in the reality of the events, which are represented. 
 And after the illustrations which have been given, such a 
 belief cannot be considered impossible. The same ex- 
 planation will apply to the emotions, which follow our 
 reading of tragedies when alone, or any other natural and 
 affecting descriptions. In the world of conceptions, which 
 the genius of the writer conjures up, we are transported 
 out of the world of real existence, and for a while fully 
 believe in the reality of what is only an incantation. 
 
 §. 204 Application oj these principles to diversities in the 
 mental character of individuals. 
 
 It is a remark sometimes made, that the sanguine are 
 apt to believe and assert what they hope ; and the timo- 
 rous what they fear. This rAnark implies, and is found- 
 ed in part on what every one knows, that there arc diver- 
 sities in the mental character of different individuals. 
 Some are constitutionally fearful ; every obstacle assumes 
 
CONCEPTIONS. 275 
 
 an undue importance, and every terror is magnified. 
 Others are confident, fearless, ardent. Both of these 
 classes of persons are known to commit frequent mistakes 
 in judging of those things, which are future, and which 
 have any connection with their respective mentaf charac- 
 teristics. 
 
 The remarks, which were made in the three last sec- 
 tions, will help us to an explanation in this thing. As 
 
 to what is called belief, it is presumed no one can be ig- 
 norant of it, although it would be futile to attempt to ex- 
 plain it by words. It is, however, important to remark, 
 that belief is regulated and controlled, not by direct voli- 
 tion, but by the nature of the circumstances, which are 
 placed before the mind. But it has been already suffi- 
 ciently shown, that belief is in a measure under the con- 
 trol of our conceptions, when they are very vivid. It is 
 also undoubtedly true, that vividness of conceptions is al- 
 ways attended with a strong feeling of pleasure, or of de- 
 sire, or of some other kind. But it is implied in the mental 
 characters of the persons, on whom we are remarking, 
 that their feelings are strong, though opposite ; in the one 
 case, confident and ardent ; in the other, dejected and 
 timid. 
 
 Hence their conceptions will be strong. To the one, 
 all difficulties and dangers will be magnified ; to the oth- 
 er, the glory and the fruition of success. And as these 
 distorted conceptions necessarily control more or less their 
 belief, it will follow, that perfect reliance is not to be pla- 
 ced on their opinions, when they are directly connected 
 either v/ith their hopes or their fears. Nor will such dis- 
 trust always imply an unfavorable opinion of the recti- 
 tude of their intentions. (See, in connection with this 
 
 subject, Reid's Essays on the Intellectual Powers, IV. ; 
 Stewart's Elements, Ch. III. ; Brown's Lectures, XLI ; 
 Priestley'sExamination of Reid, Sect. VIIL; Kaime's Ele- 
 ments of Criticism, Chap. II., k,c.) 
 
CHAPTER TENTH. 
 
 CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 
 
 §. 205. Association sometimes misleads our judgments . 
 
 It is necessary in this part of the history of the inindy 
 to refer again particularly to the great law of Association. 
 There are some cases, where tlie power of association so 
 misleads us, that we cannot easily form a correct judgment 
 of the true nature of things. Every object of thought, 
 in order to be fully understood, ought to be so much in 
 our power, that we may examine it separately from all 
 other objects. Whenever, therefore, it happens from any 
 circumstances, that the power of association so combines 
 one object of thought with another, that the object 
 cannot readily be looked at and examined by itself, it 
 so far has the effect to perplex and hinder correct judg- 
 ment. 
 
 It will be found, when we look into our minds, that 
 there exist a few associations or combinations of thought 
 of this kind, which are obstinate and almost invincible. 
 To explain the origin, and to correct the erroneous ten- 
 dencies of all such connections of thought, although the 
 number of such as we have now in view cannot be large, 
 would occupy us too long. The examination of a few 
 somewhat striking instances will not only throw light on 
 the philosophy of the mind in general, but will be of some 
 practical benefit. Other instances of casual associa- 
 
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 277 
 
 TioN, which have a less degree of strength, and exert a 
 less considerable influence in disturbing the just exercise 
 of the intellect, will require some examination hereafter. 
 The whole subject of Prejudices, which has a conspicu- 
 ous place in every practical system of Mental Philosophy, 
 is necessarily taken up in a great degree with such cases. 
 
 §. 203. Casual association in respect to the place of sen- 
 sensation. 
 
 One of the casual associations of that extreme kind, 
 which we have now especial reference to, concerns the 
 
 place, or rather the supposed place of sensation. All 
 
 sensation, it will not be forgotten, is in the mind. What- 
 ever is inanimate or material can of course have no feel- 
 ing. Nevertheless if a wound be inflicted on the hand or 
 foot, we seem to experience the sensation of pain in that 
 particular place. When we merely bring the hand in con- 
 tact with a warm or cold body, we even then assign a lo- 
 cal habitation to the subsequent feeling, and it clearly 
 seems to be, not in the mind, but in the hand. 
 
 This reference of the sensation to the outward organ 
 and place, instead of thinking of it as existing in the soul, 
 is the result of an early and strong association. As the 
 wound in the hand for instance is the cause of the painful 
 feeling, the consequence is, that the sensation, and the 
 place whence it arose constantly go together in our 
 thoughts. The result of this connection, which has been 
 repeated and continued from our youth up, is that we 
 find it extremely difficult in later life to separate them, 
 even with the greatest efl*ort. So difficult is it, that a sol- 
 dier, whose aj'm or leg has been amputated, still speaks of 
 feeling pain in those limbs, though they are now perhaps 
 buried in the earth or the depths of the sea. 
 
 Although we are liable in these cases to be led into a 
 mistake, if we do not guard against it with care, it is per- 
 haps an obvious remark, that the foundation of this lia- 
 bility to errour is laid in our constitution for beneficent 
 ends. It is not ordinarily so important in a practical point 
 of view, that we should attend to the internal feeling, as 
 
278 
 
 CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 
 
 to the external part which is affected. An injury in the 
 external senses, the muscles, or the limbs, if it be not at- 
 tended to, soon affects other parts of the body and even 
 life itself. Hence Providence has put us in the way to 
 form this strong and almost unconquerable mental habit, 
 in order to secure protection, where it seems to be most 
 urgently and frequently needed. 
 
 §. 201. Connection of our ideas of extension and time. 
 
 If we examine carefully our notions of Time, we shall 
 find here also a casual association of long continuance 
 and of great strength. It is believed to be the fact, that 
 Time, as it exists in the apprehensions of most persons, is 
 regarded as something extended. It is not necessary to 
 delay here, to undertake a definition of time, to show what 
 it is in the abstract, or to give a history of the notion 
 which we form of it. Taking it for granted, that every 
 one knows what is meant when we use that term, we 
 merely assert here, that for some cause or other it is ex- 
 ceedingly difficult to think of it, except in the light of a 
 modification of extension. The correctness of this 
 remark may not perhaps appear perfectly obvious at first ; 
 but the expressions, which we apply to intervals of dura- 
 tion, are an evidence of its truth. 
 
 We say before such a time or after such a time, the 
 same as before or after any material object ; we speak of 
 a long or a short time with no more hesitation than of a 
 long or short distance, of a long or short bridge, or rail- 
 way, or any other object of extension. We utter our- 
 selves precisely in the same way we should do, if we were 
 certain of having detected some real analogy between the 
 two, between length and shortness in material substances, 
 and what are called length and shortness in time. But it 
 is not too much to say, that there is no such analogy, no 
 such similitude ; nor is it worth while to anticipate, that 
 we shall ever be able to detect such analogy or similitude, 
 until we can in practice apply the measures offset, ells, 
 roods, &c. to hours, and days, and weeks. How then can 
 it be accounted for, that we apply terms, nearly in the 
 
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 279 
 
 same way, as if this were the case, and as if such meas- 
 urements could be made ? 
 
 The strong association of these ideas has most proba- 
 bly arisen in this manner, viz. from our constantly meas- 
 uring one of these quantities by the other. It is the com- 
 mon method to measure time by motion, and motion is 
 measured by extension. In an hour the hand of a clock 
 moves over a certain space ; in two hours over double the 
 
 space, and so on. No doubt it is convenient to apply 
 
 the terms "long" and "short," "before" and "after," and 
 others similar, to time. We could not well dispense with 
 them. But it ought to be remembered, if we would have 
 right notions of things, that the application of those ex- 
 pressions has arisen from the mode in which we measure 
 time, and that time and extension are essentially distinct 
 in their nature. 
 
 §. 203. Of high and low notes in music. 
 
 We speak of high and low in reference to notes in 
 music, the same as of the high or low position of material 
 bodies. There is supposed to be some analogy between 
 the relation, which the notes in the scale of music bear 
 to each other, and the relation of superiority and inferior- 
 ity in the position of bodies of matter. But it is impossi- 
 ble to prove the existence of such analogy, however gen- 
 erally it may have been supposed ; and the supposition 
 itself of its existence has no doubt arisen from a casual 
 association of ideas, which has acquired strength by 
 lapse of time and by repetition. 
 
 A proof of this association of ideas being purely accident- 
 al is that an association, the very reverse of this, was once 
 prevalent. — It is remarked in the preface to Gregory's 
 edition to Euclid's works, that the more ancient Greek 
 writers considered the grave sounds as high, and the acute 
 ones as low. The present mode of speaking on the sub- 
 ject is of more recent origin ; but at what time and in 
 what way it was introduced cannot be asserted with con- 
 fidence. In the preface just referred to, it is, however, 
 observed, that the ancient Greek custom of looking upon 
 
280 
 
 CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 
 
 the grave sounds as high and the acute as low, precisely 
 the reverse of what is now common, continued down until 
 the time of Boethius. It has been conjectured with some 
 ingenuity, that this connection or association of thought 
 among the Greeks and Romans, for it was equally preva- 
 lent among both, might have been owing to the construc- 
 tion of their musical instruments. The string, which 
 sounded the grave or what we call the low tone, it has 
 been supposed, was placed highest, and that, which gave 
 the shrill or acute, had the lowest place. If this conjec- 
 ture could be ascertained to be well founded, it would 
 strikingly show, from what very slight causes strong and 
 permanent associations often arise. It is hardly necessary 
 to observe, that it is important to examine the origin and 
 progress of such associations, in order that we may correct 
 those erroneous and illusive notions, which will be found 
 to be built upon them. 
 
 §. 209. Connection of the ideas of extension and colour. 
 
 There is no necessary connection between colour, as 
 the term is commonly employed by philosophers, and 
 extension. The word colour properly denotes a sensa- 
 tion in the mind ; the word extension, the quality of an 
 external material object. There is, therefore, no more 
 natural connection, and no more analogy between the two, 
 than there is between pain and solidity. And yet it so 
 happens that we never have the sensation or idea of col- 
 our without at the same time associating extension with it; 
 we find them, however diiferent they may be in their na- 
 ture, inseparable in our thoughts. This strong associa- 
 tion is formed in consequence of our always perceiving 
 extension at the very time, in which the sensation of col- 
 our is excited in the mind. The perception of the one, 
 and the sensation of the other have been so lonor simulta- 
 neous, that we have been gradually drawn into the belief, 
 that, on the one hand, all colour has extension, and on the 
 other, all extension has colour. But what we call colour 
 being merely a state of the mind, it is not possible, that it 
 should with propriety be predicated of any external mate- 
 
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 281 
 
 rial substances. Nor is it less evident, if colour be mere- 
 Jy a sensation or state of the mindj that matter can exist, 
 and does exist without it. 
 
 But what has been said will not satisfy all the queries, 
 which may be started on this point, unless we remark also 
 on the ambiguity in the word colour. The view, which 
 has been taken of the connection between colour and ex- 
 tension, is founded on the supposition, that colour denotes 
 a sensation of the mind, and that merely. It seems to be 
 supposed by some writers, that the word colour has two 
 meanings, and that it is thus generally understood ; — ( 1 ) It 
 denotes that disposition, or arrangement, or whatever it 
 may be, in the particles of matter, which not only causes 
 the rays of light to be reflected, but to be reflected in dif- 
 ferent ways ; — -(2) It denotes that mental sensation, which , 
 follows, when the rays have reached the retina of the eye. 
 When people use the term with this diversity of significa- 
 tion they can say with truth, that external bodies have 
 colour, and also that colour is a sensation of the mind. It 
 may be said also in the first sense of the term, which has 
 been mentioned, that colour has extension, because parti- 
 cles of matter have extension. But it. is not altogether 
 evident, that people generally make this distinction, al- 
 though some may. There is great reason to think, that 
 they commonly mean by the term the flpj9eamnce of colour 
 or the sensation in the mind ; and they no doubt in gener- 
 al regard this appearance or sensation, as belonging to ex- 
 ternal objects, as being in some sense a part of those ob- 
 jects, and as having extension. How erroneous this sup- 
 position is, has already appeared ! 
 
 §. 210. Whether there be heat in fire, tj-c. 
 
 The questions, Whether there be heat in fire, coldness 
 in snow, sweetness in sugar, and the like, seem well suited 
 to the inquisitive and nicely discriminating spirit of the 
 Scholastic ages. Alihough well adapted . to exercise 
 the ingenuity of the Schools, they are far from being with* 
 out some importance in tlie more practical philosophy of 
 S6 
 
282 Casual associations. 
 
 later times. If these questions concern merely the mattei;]|| 
 of fact, if the inquiry be. What do people think on these 
 points ? It admits of different answers. But this is of 
 less consequence to be known, than to know what is the 
 true view of this subject. 
 
 The following, there is much reason to think, is 
 the view, which should be taken. If by heat, cold, and 
 taste in bodies, \Ye merely mean, that there is this or that 
 disposition or motion or attraction in the particles, then it 
 must clearly be granted, that fire is hot, that snow is cold, 
 and sugar is sweet. But if by heat is understood what 
 one feels on the application of fire to the limbs, or if by 
 sweetness is understood the sensation of taste, when a sap- 
 id body is applied to the tongue, &c. then fire has no heat, 
 sugar no sweetness, and snow is not cold. These. states 
 of the mind can never be transformed into any thing 
 material and external. The heat or the cold which I 
 feel, and the different kinds of tastes are sensations in the 
 soul and nothing else. 
 
 §. 21] . Whether there be meaning in words 7 
 
 We say in our common discourse, that there is mean- 
 ing in words, that there is meaning in the printed page of 
 an author ; and the language is perhaps sufficiently cor- 
 rect for those occasions, on which it is ordinarily employ- 
 ed. We do not deem it necessary to object to the com- 
 mon mode of speaking in this particular instance, nor to 
 undertake to propose any thing better. But there is here 
 an association of ideas, similar, both in its nature and its 
 effects, to that existing between extension and colour al- 
 ready remarked upon. 
 
 When objects external to us are presented to the sense 
 of sight, there is immediately the sensation of some colour. 
 This sensation we have been so long in the habit of refer- 
 ring to the external object, that we speak and act, as if 
 the colour were truly in that object and not in ourselves ; 
 in the language of D'Alembert, as if the sensations were 
 transported out of the mind and spread over the material 
 substance. And it is not until we take some time to re- 
 
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 283 
 
 fleet, and until we institute a careful examination, that we 
 become satisfied of our errour. 
 
 In the same way when we look upon the page of an au- 
 thor we say it has meaning, or that it is full of thought ; 
 whereas in truth, in consequence of a long continued and 
 obstinate association, of which we are hardly sensible our- 
 selves, we transport the meaning or thought out of our- 
 selves and spread it upon that page. The thought or 
 meaning is in ourselves, but is placed by us, through the 
 means of a casual but very strong association, in the writ- 
 ten marks which are before us. All the power, which the 
 words have, results from convention, or, what is the same 
 thing, exists in consequence of certain intellectual habits, 
 formed in reference to those words. It is these habits, 
 formed in reference to them, it is this mental correspond- 
 ence, which gives these characters all their value ; and 
 without the mind, which answers to and which interprets 
 them, they could be considered as nothing more than mere 
 black strokes drawn upon white paper, and essentially dif- 
 fering in nothing from the zigzag and unmeaning delinea- 
 tions of a schoolboy on the sand. As all the beautiful 
 variety of colours do not and cannot have an existence 
 without the mind, which has sensations of them or per- 
 ceives them, so words are useless, are unmeaning, are noth- 
 ing without the interpretations of an intellect, that has 
 been trained up so as to correspond to them. By associa- 
 tion, therefore, we refer the meaning to the written 
 characters or words, when in truth it is in the mind, and 
 there alone. 
 
 §. 212. Benefit of examining such connections of thought. 
 
 It is of great importance to us to be able to separate 
 ideas, which our situation and habits may have inti- 
 mately combined together. To a person who has this 
 power in a considerable degree, v/e readily give the cred- 
 it of possessing a clear and discriminating judgment. 
 And this mental characteristic is of great consequence 
 not only in pursuing the study of intellectual philosophy, 
 but in the conduct of life. It is in particular directly sub- 
 
284 
 
 CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 
 
 servient to the power of reasoning, since all processes 
 of reasoning are made up of successive propositions, the 
 comparison of which implies the exercise of judgment. 
 The associations of thought, which have been mentioned 
 in this chapter, are so intimate or rather almost indis- 
 soluble, that they try and discipline the mind in this 
 respect,— they teach it to discriminate. They are wor- 
 thy to be examined, therefore, and to be understood, not 
 only for the immediate pleasure, which they aiford in the 
 discovery of our errours ; but also because they have 
 the effect of training up one's powers to some good pur- 
 pose. Let a person be accustomed to making such dis- 
 criminations as are implied in fully understanding the 
 instances in this chapter, and he acquires a readiness, 
 which is not easily outwitted ; he trains himself to such 
 .a quickness of perception in finding out what truly be- 
 longs to an object and what does not, as will not al- 
 low him to be imposed upon by that confusion of ideas, 
 which in so many cases distorts the judgments of the 
 multitude. 
 
 §. 213. Power of the inll over mental associations. 
 
 In view of what has been said in this and in for- 
 mer chapters, the inquiry naturally arises, What is 
 the degree of influence, which we are able to exercise 
 by mere will or volition over associated trains of thought ? 
 The answer to be given to this inquiry is, that we have no 
 direct influence or power over them ; — there is a constant 
 train of ideas, but their succession, their coming and de- 
 parting depends on causes beyond our immediate volunta- 
 ry control. The truth of the general statement, that we 
 cannot produce or call up an idea by a mere direct act 
 of the will, and that, consequently, trains of ideas are not 
 directly under its control, cannot but appear quite evident 
 on a little reflection. We never can will the existence of 
 . any thing without knowing what it is which we will or 
 choose. This requires no further prOof than is contained 
 in the proposition itself. Therefore, the expressions, to 
 will to have a certain thought or train of thought, 
 
 . iUjO 
 
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 285 
 
 clearly imply the present existence of that thought or 
 train; and, 'consequently, there can be no such thing 
 as calling up and directing our thoughts by immediate 
 volition. 
 
 To this view of want of direct voluntary power over 
 our associated ideas and to the argument in support of it, 
 those mental efforts, which we term recollection or inten- 
 tional memory, have been brought up as an answer. In 
 cases of intentional memory it will be said, an object or 
 event is remembered, or in other words, an idea or train 
 of ideas is called up, by mere volition or choice. To this 
 objection we make this reply. It is evident, before we 
 attempt or make a formal effort to remember the partic- 
 ular circumstances of an event, that the event itself in gen- 
 eral must have been the object of our attention. There 
 is some particular thing in all cases of intentional remem- 
 brance, w^hich we wish to call to mind, although we 
 are totally unable to state what it is ; but we know, that 
 it is somehow connected with some general event, which 
 we already have in memory. Now by revolving in nrind 
 the great facts or outlines of that event, it so happens, 
 that the particular circumstance, which we were in 
 search of, is called up. But certainly no one can say 
 that this is done by a direct volition ; — so far from it, 
 that nothing more is wanting to explain it, than the com- 
 mon principles of association. This statement is illustra- 
 ted, w4ienever, in reciting an extract which we had com- 
 mitted to memory, we are at a loss for the beginning of 
 a particular sentence. In such a case we naturally repeat 
 a number of times the concluding words of the preced- 
 ing sentence, and very soon we recall the sentence, 
 which was lost ; not, however, by direct volition, but by 
 association. 
 
 §. 214. Associations controlled hy an indirect voluntary 
 power. 
 
 But we would not be understood to say, that the 
 will possesses no influence whatever over our trains of 
 thought ; its influence is very considerable, although it is 
 
286 
 
 CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 
 
 not as we have seen, immediate and direct. (1) We 
 
 have, in the first place, the power of checking or delay- 
 ing the succession of ideas. This power is always found 
 to exist, when the direction of the mind towards a par- 
 ticular subject is attended with a feeling of desire or 
 interest. We are not, indeed, enabled by our power 
 in this respect either directly to call up or to banish 
 any one or any number of our thoughts. But the conse- 
 quence is, a variety of trains of thought are suggested,which 
 would not have been suggested, had it not been for 
 the circumstance of the original train being delayed. 
 Thus, in the course of our mental associations, the narrie 
 of Sir Isaac Newton occurs ; — we experience a strong 
 emotion of interest ; aided by this interest, we check 
 the current of our thoughts at that name, and we feel 
 and are conscious, that we have w^ithin us the ability 
 to do so. While we delay upon it, a variety of series 
 of ideas occurs. At (fne moment we think of eminent 
 mathematicians and astronomers, for he himself was one ; 
 at another, we think of those cotemporaries, who were 
 his particular friends, whatever their rank in science, be- 
 cause they lived at the same time ; a moment after, our 
 minds dwell upon some striking incidents in his life or 
 some marked features in his social or intellectual char- 
 acter ; — and again, we may'be led to think, almost in the 
 same instant, of some proposition or demonstration, 
 which had once exercised his patience and skill. In 
 consequence of delaying a few moments on the name or 
 rather on the general idea of the man, these different 
 trains of thought are presented ; and we can evidently fix 
 our minds upon one of these subjects if we choose, or 
 have a desire to, and dismiss the others. This is one way, 
 in which by choice or volition* we are able to exercise a 
 considerable indirect power over our associations. 
 
 (2) We acquire, in the second place, great power over 
 our associations by habit ; and as no man ordinarily forms 
 such habit without choosing to form it, we have here 
 another instance of the indirect power of volition. By 
 the term Habit, when it is applied to our mental opera- 
 
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. 287 
 
 tions, we mean in particular that facility or readiness,, 
 which they acquire by being frequently repeated. The 
 consequence of repetition or frequent practice is, that cer- 
 tain associations are soon very much strengthened, or that 
 a facility in them is acquired. 
 
 Striking instances of the effect of repetition have been 
 given in the course of this chapter, although it might per- 
 haps be said in respect to these,that they were forced up- 
 on us by our particular situation, rather than brought 
 about by positive desire or choice. But there are other 
 instances, to whieh this remark is not eq^ually applicable. 
 
 It is a well known fact, that almost any person may 
 
 become a punster or rhymer by taking the pains to form 
 a habit, that is, by increasing the facility of certain asso- 
 ciations by frequent repetition. By punning we under- 
 stand the power of readily summoning up, on a particular 
 occasion, a number of words different from each other in 
 meaning, but resembling each other more or less in 
 
 sound. That facility of association, which is acquired 
 
 by frequent repetition and which is commonly expressed 
 by the word habit, (as when we say of a person that he 
 has formed a habit of expression,) is the great secret of 
 fluencj'' in extemporaneous speaking. The extemporane-^ 
 ous speaker must, indeed, have ideas ; no modification of 
 association whatever can supply the place of them. But 
 his ability to arrange them in some suitable order and to 
 express them in words without previous care and effort, is 
 the result, in a great measure, of habits of association flow- 
 ing from his own choice and determination. — (See Stew- 
 art's Elements, Vol. I. ch. vi. pt. 2 ; Historical Disser- 
 tation, Pt. I. §. II. CH. 2 ; Brown's Lectures, xli, xlii,. 
 XLIX. &c.) 
 
CHAPTER ELEVENTH. 
 
 COMPLEX NOTIONS OF EXTERNAL ORIGIN. 
 
 §. 215. Of simplicity and complexness of mental states in 
 general 
 
 Before leaving that portion of our knowledge, 
 which has an external origin, it is necessary to examine it 
 in relation to the principle or law of Simplicity and 
 Complexness, which was formerly considered. We find 
 on examination, that our mental states do not possess the 
 same value, but oftentimes one is virtually equal to many 
 others; and hence w^e are able to resolve the whole mass of 
 them into the two general classes of Simple and Complex. 
 It may seem surprising, that one mental- state, which has 
 a perfect unity and simplicity in itself, should still embrace 
 two, three, or any number of others; but such is undoubt- 
 edly the fact. Let us fix our attention upon whatever 
 complex notion or feeling we please to, and we shall find 
 it susceptible of being examined under this view ; we may 
 consider it in its whole or in its parts, in its comprelien- 
 sion or its elements. 
 
 And it may be added here, that in a practical point of 
 view, the ability to do this, and the habit of doing it are 
 of much importance. In early life, and in all the stages 
 of education, the practice of mental analysis, in its appli- 
 cation to particular thoughts and feelings, should undoubt- 
 
COMPLEX NOTIONS OF EXTERNAL ORIGIN. 289 
 
 ediy be kept up. It will in the end aid much in clearness 
 of perception, and in the training up of a prompt and ac- 
 curate judgment, if no word, expressive of a complex 
 mental state, is permitted to be used without a proper 
 understanding of what is involved in it. — Looking there- 
 fore at those sensations and notions, which the mind has 
 access to through the direct medium of the senses, we find 
 them either simple or complex. There is not a single feel- 
 ing, not a single idea, which is not comprehended in this 
 arrangement, and does not belong to one of these two 
 classes. 
 
 §. 216. Instances of simple ideas from the senses. 
 
 It is proper, before looking at those notions which are 
 complex, to refer to some of those which are simple ; as 
 even the brief consideration of the latter will help to throw 
 light on the former. — Among the simple ideas, (sensations 
 perhaps is here the more appropriate term,) which we , 
 become possessed of by means of the senses, are all the 
 varieties of colour, as red, white, yellow, green, &c., re- 
 ceived by the sense of sight. Under the head of simple no- 
 tions are to be included also the original intimations of the 
 touch, as resistance, extension, hardness, and softness, &c. 
 The character of simplicity is to be ascribed in like man- 
 ner to the. original sensations of sound, received by the 
 sense of hearing ; and to those of the smell and the taste. 
 
 These elementary notions are conformed to the general 
 view, which has been given in a former chapter of our 
 uncompounded feelings, viz, They are not capable of a sep- 
 aration into parts and of being resolved into other ele- 
 ments, and as a consequence of this are not susceptible of 
 being made clearer by definition. Neverthele?]s.they are 
 not obscure and mysterious, and can well do without any 
 laboured exposition. They are just what nature made and 
 designed them to be, distinct and definite, as a general 
 statement, both in themselves, and to men's comprehen- 
 sion of them. 
 
 When we make this statement, with the limitation of its 
 
 being true and applicable in general, we have reference to 
 31 
 
290 COMPLEX NOTIONS 
 
 those cases,where one sensation borders upon and runs into 
 another, and where the human mind undoubtedly finds its 
 apprehension of them somewhat indistinct. There are many- 
 simple sensations, answering to this description, to which 
 we give no names ; the prominent diversities only are 
 marked in that way, to the neglect of those, which ap- 
 proximate, and partially mingle in with other diversities. 
 
 §. 217. Of objects contemplated as wholes. 
 
 But what we term our simple notions are representative 
 only of the parts of objects. In point of fact, however, those 
 external objects, which come under our notice, are present- 
 ed to us as wholes, and as such, (whatever may have been the 
 original process leading to that result,) we very early con- 
 template them. — Take for instance a loadstone. In their 
 prdinary and common thoughts upon it, men undoubted- 
 ly contemplate it as a whole ; the state of mind, which 
 has reference to it, embraces it as such. This complex 
 notion, like all others which are complex, is virtually equal 
 to a number of others of a more elementary character. 
 
 Hence, when we are called upon to give an account of 
 the loadstone, we caii return no other answer than by an 
 enumeration of its elements. It is something, which has 
 weight, colour, hardness, friability, power to draw iron, 
 and whatever eke we discover in it. 
 
 We use the term gold. This is a complex term, and 
 implies a complexity in the corresponding mjental state. 
 But if we use the word gold, or any other synonymous 
 word, in the hearing of a man -who has neither seen that 
 substance, nor had it explained to him, he will not under- 
 stand what is meant to be conveyed. We must enter into 
 an analysis ; and show, that it is a combination of the 
 qualities of yellowness, great weight, fusibility, ductility, 
 &c.' We look upward to the sun in the heavens. But what 
 should we know of that great aggregate, if we could not 
 contemplate it in the elements of form and extension, of 
 brightness and heat, of roundness and regularity of motion? 
 • — All the ideas, therefore, which we form of external ob- 
 jects considered as wholes, are complex ; and all such com- 
 plex notions are composed of thpse which are simple. 
 
OF EXTERNAL ORIGIN. 291 
 
 '^. 5 18. Complex notions preceded by simple. ones. 
 
 It would seem from what has been thus far stated, that 
 there is in the class of mental states now under considera- 
 tion an internal or mental complexity, corresponding to 
 the complexity in the external object. But it is not to be 
 thought, that we arrive at this ultimate complexity of 
 mental state by a single act, by an undivided and insepara- 
 ble movement of the mind, although, such is the rapidity 
 of the process, it may in some cases seem to be so. On 
 the contrary, every simple' idea, involved in, and forming 
 a part of the compound, so far as we have any distinct 
 conception of the compounded idea, passes under a rapid 
 review, and the complex state of the mind is the result of 
 this rapid review. We cannot, for instance, have the 
 complex notion of a man, of iron, of loadstone, of a tree, 
 &c. without having first, at some time, subjected, each 
 simple element, of which such objects are made up, to a 
 separate examination. 
 
 This glance of the mind at the various simple notions is 
 performed indeed with such extreme quickness, (at least 
 generally so,) that the successive steps of it are not recol- 
 lected ; but this, when we consider the rapidity of the 
 mind's ope/ations in other instances, is no sufficient objec- 
 tion to the statement, which has been made. 
 
 The process in the formation of complex ideas goes on 
 from step to step, from one simple or elementary part to 
 another, but when the examination is completed, the ulti- 
 mate state of the mind, which the completion of the pro- 
 cess implies, is not to be considered as in any degree want- 
 ing in unity or oneness. It is, in itself considered, as 
 much one and indivisible as any one of those states of mind 
 which we know to be simple. 
 
 §. 219. Imperfections of our complex notions of external 
 objects. 
 
 Although the mind of man is to be regarded, in the 
 great ordering and constitution of things, as in some im- 
 portant sense the representative of the material universe, 
 
292 
 
 COMPLEX NOTIONS 
 
 it must still be acknowledfred to be a very imperfect one. 
 It is as true in nature, as it is in religion, that we know only 
 in part. Men have no doubt been always advancing in 
 knowledge, but wlien we compare our present acquisi- 
 tions with our former ignorance, we may well anticipate, 
 Ihat the progress of the future will lay the foundation of 
 another comparison, not so flattering to the present gener- 
 ation. This vaew will not only apply to knowledge in 
 the mass ; but will hold good, on a smaller scale, of every 
 
 complex notion which we form. Take for instance the 
 
 complex idea of Gold. The tljought is understood to be 
 the representative of the thing. But is it in this case a 
 true one ? If we should admit it to be so as far as it goe?, 
 still it is evidently not a full or perfect one ; nor can we 
 regard it as sucli Vv^ithout suifering ourselves to be led into 
 errour. In the complicated notion, to which men agree in 
 giving that name, we combine the simple idea of yellow- 
 ness, weight', hardness, malleability, and perhaps others ; 
 but it is only reasonable to suppose, that no person com- 
 bines, in his coriception of it, all its properties. 
 
 Philosophy may boast of her achievements ; but na- 
 ture has not revealed all her secrets yet. Can any man 
 explain the mode of the connection between mind and mat- 
 ter ?' That is a secret not yet cleared up. Can any man 
 assert positively what that cohesion or attraction is, which 
 holds together the parts of gold, iron, and other material 
 bodies ? That is a subject also, on which nature has re- 
 served to herself something further to say. One body 
 impinging upon another puts it in motion ; and in our 
 wisdom we give it a name ; we call it motion by impulse. 
 But can any man tell, what motion is ? Still more can he 
 point out, how motion passes from one body to another 
 when the particles of those bodies come in contact, if in- 
 deed there can be any actual contact ? Such are the 
 
 doubts, that press upon us, wherever we turn our eyes. 
 But this is not said to discourage inquiry. The first step 
 in laying a good and broad foundation is to be fully seu- 
 pible of our ignorance, and of the mind's limits. 
 
OF EXTERNAL ORIGIN. 293 
 
 §. 220. Of what are to he understood by cliimericalideas. 
 
 Mr. Locke somewhere speaks of certain notions, which 
 the mind is capable of framing and to which it ascribes 
 an external and material existence, as chimerical, in op- 
 position to those which are real. Although the consider- 
 ation of the notions thus designated may be deemed more 
 important in a practical, than a purely philosophical point 
 of view, the subject is evidently deserving some attention. 
 When an idea is a real or well-founded one, it has some- 
 thing precisely corresponding to it in nature, at least so 
 far as it is understood to be representative of any thing. 
 But when the mind so brings together and combines its 
 perceptions as to form something of which nature pre- 
 sents no corresponding reality, then such notion or feel- 
 ing is spoken of as chimerical. If, for instance, a person 
 were known to have an idea of a body, yellow, or of some 
 other colour, malleable, fixed, possessing in a word'all the 
 qualities of iron or of gold with this difference only, of its 
 being lighter than water, it would be what we term a 
 chimerical idea. That is ; it would have nothing corres- 
 ponding to it in the nature of things. — And a similar"^re- 
 mark will apply to a multitude of other instances, which 
 are to be found every where in the religious mythology, 
 and the early tre^ditions of nations. There is the centaur, 
 a fabulous animal, partly man and partly horse ; the 
 DRAGON, an immense serpent, furnished with wings, and 
 capable of making its way through the atmosphere, by their 
 aid ; the hipogriff, an imaginary steed, having the pov/- 
 er also of performing asrial j()urne3^s ; saying nothing 
 of magical swords, enchant'ed castles and islands, &c. 
 
 Such chimeras, framed in the days of ignorance, have 
 been too numerous ; and not unfrequently the belief in 
 them has been fostered and transmitted in the riper ages 
 of the human understanding. Happily for us, on whom, 
 in the language of Scripture, the ends of the world 
 have come, in the. abundance and operation of real causes, 
 we are not obliged to resort to imaginary ones. There 
 are grand agencies at work in nature, of which the mind 
 
294 
 
 COMPLEX NOTIONS 
 
 of man in its childhood never conceived. There are not 
 only causes enough, but their agency is sufficiently stri- 
 king to gratify all our wonder, without violating the 
 strictness of truth, or overstepping the bounds of real- 
 ity. 
 
 §.221. Of the introduction of such notions Jn early life. 
 
 The views of the last section are of some practical 
 consequence in training up the young mind. If causes 
 exist in the soul itself, which, under an unwise direction, 
 will result in fals6 or chi'merical notions, we may.find here 
 a practical rule in Education. The mind in early life 
 should be carefully trained up to the knowledge of things 
 as they are ; and not to an aquaintance with mere sup- 
 positions, or with things as they are not. While the young 
 mind by the mere aid of that instrumentality, which the 
 author of nature has furnished, is constantly storing up 
 important thoughts, it also receives false ideas from vari- 
 ous sources. These erroneous intimations are not neces- 
 sarily to b^ attributed to the imperfection of the senses, 
 or to any thing originally in the constitution. There is no 
 lack of 'sources of errour, without casting such imputar 
 tions on the original tendencies of the mind. While nature 
 at a very early period is rapidly carrying on the process of 
 mental developement and instruction, too frequently her 
 suggestions, instead of being aided, are counteracted or 
 misrepresented by parents or domestics. 
 
 In support of this remark, it is merely requisite to re- 
 fer to the numerous false notions, which children are led 
 to entertain in respect to the existence of ghosts and other 
 imaginary beings. It cannot be pretended, that such no- 
 tions are the result of the mental powers in their legiti- 
 mate exercise ; on the contrary they are engrafted upon 
 them by an extraneous and evil agency ,which thus, either 
 thoughtlessly or maliciously, perA^erts the commendable 
 fears, and hopes, and devotional impulses of the soul. It is 
 true undoubtedly, that many systems of superstition, 
 many mythological codes of the most venerable antiquity, 
 and with them their thousand chimeras, have passed 
 
OF EXTERNAL ORIGIN. 295 
 
 away. But all is not yet gone ; spectres and aerial visi- 
 tants, and enchantments still haunt the nursery. But there 
 is certainly no want of true and important notions, which 
 can be made an excuse for the introduction of such absurd 
 and unfounded ones ; and it ought to be made a great ob- 
 ject to keep the mind as free from them as possible. 
 
 ' The greater heed is to be given to this direction, be- 
 cause permanently evil consequences are found to result 
 from the neglect of it. We have the experience and tes- 
 timony of many judicious persons, that the introduction 
 of ideas of ghosts, &c. in early life ever afterwards ren- 
 ders one incapable of enduring darkness or solitude with- 
 out great disquietude. 
 
CHAPTER TWELFTH. 
 
 ABSTRACTION. 
 
 §. 222. Abstraction implied in the analysis of ow com- 
 plex notions. 
 
 The remarks, which have heen made, in the course 
 of the foregoing'chapter, on the analysis and examination 
 of our Complex Intellectual states, naturally lead to the 
 consideration of another subject in some respects intimate- 
 ly connected with that topic. When we have once form- 
 ed a complex notion, (no matter at what period, in what 
 
 .way, or of what kind,) it often happens that we wish, for 
 reasons already given', to examine more particularly some 
 of its parts* Very frequency this is absolutely necessary 
 to the full understanding of it. Although undoubtedly its 
 
 'elementary parts once came under review, that time is now 
 long past ; it has become important to institute a new in- 
 spection, to take each simple notion involved in it, and ex- 
 amine it by itself. And this is done by means of the pro- 
 cess of Abstraction, and in no other way. . 
 
 By the aid of that process, our complex notions, how- 
 ever comprehensive they may be, are susceptible, if one 
 may be allowed so to speak, of being taken to pieces, and 
 the elementary parts may be abstracted or separated from 
 each other ; that is, they are made subjects of considera- 
 tion apart from other ideas, with which they are ordina- 
 rily found to be associated. And hence, whenever this is 
 
ABSTRACTION. 297 
 
 the case in respect to the states of the mind, they are some- 
 times called ABsiYRACTioKs, and still more frequently are 
 known by the name of abstract ideas. 
 
 For the purpose of distinctness in what we have to 
 say, they may be divided into the two classes of Particu- 
 lar and General ; that is to say, in some cases the abstrac- 
 tion relates only to a single idea or element, in others it 
 
 includes more. General Abstract Ideas, (or the notions 
 
 which we form of Genera and Species.) will form a dis- 
 tinct subject of consideration. 
 
 ^. 223. Instances of particular abstract ideas. 
 
 We shall proceed, therefore, to remark here on Partic- 
 ular abstractions. Of this class the notions, which we 
 form of the different kinds of colours, may be regarded 
 as instances. For example we hold in our hand a rose ; 
 it has extension, colour, form, fragrance. The mind is*^ 
 so deeply occupied with the colour, as almost v/hollyto 
 neglect the other qualities. This is a species of abstrac- 
 tion, altliough perhaps an imperfect one, because when an 
 object is before us, it is difficult, in our most attentive 
 consideration of any particular quality or property, to 
 withdraw the mind wholly from the others. When, on 
 the contrary, any absent object of perception occurs to us, 
 w^hen we think of or form a conception* of it, our thoughts 
 will readily fix upon the colour of such object, and make 
 that the subject of consideration, without particularly re- 
 garding its other qualities,, sucli a-3 weight, hardness, taste, 
 form, &c. We may also distinguish in any body, (either 
 when present or still more perfectly when absent,) its so- 
 lidity from its extension, or we may direct our attention 
 to its weight, or its length, or breadth, or thickness, and 
 make any one of these a distinct object in our thoughts. 
 
 And hence, as it is a well known fact, that the proper- 
 ties of any body may be separated in the view and exami- 
 nation of the mind, however closely they may be connect- 
 ed in their appropriate subjects, we may lay down this 
 statement in respect to the states of mind before us ' viz. 
 When any quality or attribute of an object, which, does 
 
298 
 
 ABSTRACTION. 
 
 not exist by itself, but in a state of combination, is detach- 
 ed by our minds from it's customary associates, and is con- 
 sidered separately, the notion we form of it becoin^s a 
 
 particular abstract idea. The distinctive mark of this 
 
 class is, that the abstraction is limited to one quality. It 
 should perhaps be particularly added, that the abstrac- 
 tion or separation may exist mentally, when it cannot take 
 place in the object itself. For instance, the size, the fig- 
 ure, length, breadth, colour, &c. of a building may each 
 of them be made subjects of separate mental consideration, 
 although there can be no real or actual separation of 
 these things in the building itself. If there be any one 
 of these properties, there must necessarily be all. 
 
 §. 224. Mental process in separating or alstf acting them. 
 
 The manner of expressing ourselves on the subject of 
 our abstract notions, to which we have been accustomed, 
 is apt to create and cherish a belief in the existence of a 
 separate mental faculty, adapted solely to this particular 
 purpose. But the doctrine of a power or faculty of ab- 
 straction, which is exclusive of other mental susceptibili- 
 ties, and is employed solely for this purpose, does not ap- 
 pear to be well founded. It will convey an impression 
 nearer the truth to speak of the process, rather than the 
 
 power of abstraction.- The following statement will be 
 
 sufucient to show, how those of the first class, or particu- 
 lar abstract ideas are formed. 
 
 Although our earliest notions, whether they arise from 
 the senses or are of an internal origin, are simple, existing 
 in an independent and separate state, yet those simple 
 thoughts are very soon found to unite together with a con- 
 siderable degree of permanency, and out of them are 
 formed complex states of mind. Many are in this way 
 combined together in one, and the question is, how this 
 combination is to be loosened, and the elementary parts 
 are to be extracted from their present complexity ? 
 
 Id answer it may be said, that, in every case of separ- 
 ating a particular abstract idea, there must necessarily be 
 a co-existcut feeling of interest, choice, or desire. With- 
 
ABSTRACTION. 299 
 
 out such feeling it is evident there can be no abstraction. 
 This feeling must concern the previous complex state of 
 the mind when viewed in one resp8ct5rather than another; 
 or what is the same thing, it will concern one part of the 
 complex idea rather than another. So that we may truly 
 and justly be said to have a desire to consider or examine 
 some part of the complex idea more particularly, than the 
 others. When the mind is in this high degree directed to 
 any particular part of a complex notion we find it to be the 
 foctj that ths principle of association, or whatever un- 
 known principle it is, which keeps the other parts in their 
 state of virtual union with it, ceases in a corresponding 
 degree to operate and to maintain that union ; the other 
 parts rapidly fall off and disappear, and the particular 
 quality, towards which the mind was especially directed, 
 remains the sole subject of consideration. That is to say, 
 it is abstracted or becomes an abstract idea. — If far exam- 
 ple we have in mind the complex notion of an object, a 
 house, tree, plant, flower, and the like, but have a desire 
 or interest in reference to the colour, mingling in with 
 this complex notion, the consequence is, that the quality 
 of colour will soon occupy our whole regard, and the 
 other qualities will disappear, and no more be thought of- 
 If we desire to examine the weight or extension of an ob- 
 ject, the result will be' the same ; in other words, the ex- 
 tension, weight, colour, &c. will be abstracted. 
 
 This, in the formation of particular abstract ideas, 
 seems to be the process of the mind and nothing more ; 
 viz. The co-existence of a feeling of desire or choice in 
 respect to some particular part of any complex notion,and 
 the consequent detention of the part, towards which an in- 
 terest is felt, and the disappearance of the other parts. 
 
 Such is the activity of the mind, and in so many 
 
 ways it views the " images of things," that this striking 
 process of detaching, and examining, and changing the 
 parts of our complex notions, is almost constantly going 
 on. And after the mind has thus shifted its position, and 
 has been now in this state, and now in that, as if playfully 
 to show its wonderful readiness in diminishing itself to a 
 
soo 
 
 ABSTRACTION. 
 
 part of its previous complexity, it seems as readily to swell 
 back again, if we may be allowed in such figurative ex- 
 pressions, to its former dimensions, and often exii^ts the 
 same as before the process of abstraction commenced. 
 
 § . 225 . Of generalizations of particular abstract ideas. 
 
 The terms generalizing and generalization are 
 often found applied to the states of mind under consider- 
 ation. When we 'have made any quality of a body a dis- 
 tinct and separate subject of attention, we may further re- 
 gard it as belonging to one or more objects, according as 
 we find such to be the fact or otherwise. What is-diief- 
 ly meant therefore, when v/e speak of the generalizing of 
 this class of abstract notions, is that, in our experience of 
 things, we observe them to be common to many subjects. 
 We find whiteness to be a quality of snow, of chalk, of 
 milk, and of other bodies; and whenever with the simple 
 abstract notion of whiteness we connect in our thoughts 
 the additional circumstance of its not being limited to one 
 body but the property of many, the term may be said to 
 be generalized. And this seems to be all, that can be prop- 
 erly understood by generalization, when applied to the 
 states of mind now before us. 
 
 §. 22Q. Of the importance and uses of abstraction. 
 
 The power of Abstraction, as it has sometimes been 
 called, is by no means an unimportant one, even when 
 limited to the separation of the particular or simple ele- 
 ments of thought. *^'A carpenter, (says Kames,* speak- 
 ing of the great utility of abstraction,) considers a log of 
 wood with regard to hardness, firmness, colour, and tex- 
 ture ; a philosopher, neglecting these properties, makes 
 the log undergo a chemical analysis, and examines its 
 taste, its smell, and component principles ; the geometri- 
 cian confines his reasoning to the figure, the length, breadth, 
 and thickness ; in general, every artist, abstracting from 
 £i\\ other properties, confines his observations io those, 
 
 * Elements of Criticism, Vol. TIT. A]ipcndix. 
 
abstraction; soi 
 
 which have a more immediate connection with his pro- 
 fession." 
 
 Besides its well-known uses in the various forms of 
 reas6ning, (particularly demonstrative reasoning,) abstrac- 
 tion is sreatlv subservient to the exertions of a creative 
 imagination, as they appear in painting, architecture, poe- 
 try, and the other fine and liberal arts. 
 
 The poet and the painter are supplied with their ma- 
 terials from experience ; without having received ideas 
 from some source they never could have practised their 
 art. But if they do not restrict themselves to. mere imita- 
 tion, they must combine and modify the ideas which they 
 have, so as to be able to form new creations of their ow^n. 
 But every such exertion of their powers presupposes the 
 exercise of abstraction in decomposing and separating ac- 
 tual conceptions, and in forming them anew. 
 
 From how many delightful forms in nature, and how 
 many ideal temples contemplated for a long time in the 
 mind's eye, must the genius, that planned the famous Par- 
 thenon, have abstracted every form of beauty, and excel- 
 lence of proportion ! From how many forests of harmo- 
 ny both seen and imagined, and fields of bloom, and riv- 
 ers and waterfalls, must the mind, that conceived the Gar- 
 den of Paradise Lost; have drawn each sound, that is en- 
 chanting to the ear, and colour, that is pleasant to the 
 sight \ 
 
CHAPTER THIRTEENTH. 
 
 GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. 
 
 ,7. General abstract notions the same with genera and 
 species. 
 
 We proceed, in connection with the remarks of the last 
 chapter^ to the consideration of general abstract ideas ; 
 a subject of no little interest, and which has frequently 
 been thought to be attended with no small difficulty. 
 
 General Abstract notions are not only different, in con- 
 sequence of embracing a greater number of elementary 
 parts, from those which are particular, but are also sus- 
 ceptible of being distinguished from the great body of our 
 
 other complex notions. The idea for example, which 
 
 we form of any individual, of John, Peter, or James, is 
 evidently a complex one, but it is not necessarily a general 
 one. The notion, which we frame of a particular horse, 
 01' of a particular tree is likewise a complex idea, but not 
 a general one. There will be found to be a clear distinc- 
 tion between them, although it may not be perfectly obvi- 
 ous at first. General abstract ideas are our notions of 
 the classes of objects, that is, of Genera and Species. 
 They are expressed by general names, without, in most 
 cases, any defining or limitation, as when we use the 
 
 words ANIMAL, MAN, HORSE, BIRD, SHEEP, FISH, THEE, not 
 
 to express any one in particular of these various classes, 
 but animals, men, horses, &c. in general. 
 
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. 303 
 
 §. 228. Process in classification or the forming of genera 
 and species. 
 
 Now if our general abstract ideas, so far as they re- 
 late to external objects, are truly notions of species and 
 GENERA, it will aid us in the better understanding of thena, 
 if we briefly consider, how species and genera are formed. 
 Men certainly find no great practical difficulty in making 
 these classifications, for we find that they are made in 
 numberless instances, and at a very early period of life. 
 They are evidently governed in the process by definite 
 and uniform mental tendencies ; and though they some- 
 times make mistakes, such mistakes are neither frequent 
 nor permanent, and besides are generally owing to partial 
 and incidental causes. 
 
 What then is the process in classification ? — It is obvi- 
 ous, in the first place, that no classification can be made 
 without considering two or more objects together. A 
 number of objects, therefore, are first presented to us for 
 our observation and inquiry, which are to be examined 
 first in themselves, and then in comparison with each oth- 
 er. We will take a familiar scene to illustrate what takes 
 place. 
 
 We suppose ourselves to stand on the bank of a naviga- 
 gable river ; we behold the flowing of its waters, the cliifs 
 that overhang it, the trees that line its shore, the boats 
 and boatmen on its bosom, the flocks and herds, that press 
 down to drink from its waves. With such a scene before 
 us, it is to be expected, that the mind will rapidly make 
 each, and all of these th« subjects of its contemplation ; 
 nor does it pursue this contemplation and inquiry far, 
 without perceiving certain relations of agreement or dif- 
 ference. Certain objects before it are felt to be essentially 
 alike, and others to be essentially different ; and hence 
 they are not all arranged in one class, but a discrimination 
 is made, and different classes arc formed. The flocks and 
 herds are formed into their respective classes. The tall 
 and leafy bodies on the river's bank, alt]iougli they differ 
 from each other in some respects, are yet found to agree 
 
304 GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. 
 
 in so many others, that they are arranged together in an- 
 other class, and called by the general name of tree. The 
 living, moving, and reasoning beings, that propel the 
 boats on its waters, form another class, and are called man. 
 And there is the same process, and the same result in 
 respect to all other bodies coming within t,he range of our 
 observation. 
 
 §. 229. Early classifications sometimes incorrect. 
 
 It has been stated, that, in making these classifications, 
 men are governed by definite and unifom mental tenden- 
 cies; still it m.ust be acknowledged, that mistakes are some- 
 times committed, especially in the early periods of society, 
 and in all cases where the opportunities of examination and 
 comparison are imperfect. * When man first opens his eye 
 on nature, (and in the infancy of our race, he finds himself 
 a novice, wherever he goes,) objects so numerous, so vari- 
 ous in kind, so novel and interesting, crowd upon his at- 
 tention ; that, attempting to direct himself to all at the 
 same time, he looses sight of their specifical differences, and 
 blends them together, more than a calm and accurate ex- 
 amination would justify. And hence it is not to be won- 
 dered at, that our earliest classifications, the primitive 
 genera and species, are sometimes incorrectly made. 
 
 Subsequently, when knowledge has been in some meas- 
 ure amassed, and reasoning and observation have been 
 brought to a greater maturity, these errours are attended 
 to ; individuals are rejected from species, where they do 
 not properly belong, and species from genera. The most 
 savage and ignorant tribes will in due season correct their 
 mistakes, and be led into the truth. 
 
 §. 230. Illustraticns of our first classifications from tJie 
 Savages of Wateeoo. 
 
 We are naturally led to introduce an incident here, 
 which throws some liglit on this part of our subject. 
 The English navigator. Cook, in going from New Zealand 
 to the Friendly Islands, lighted on an Island, called 
 Wateeoo. *' The inhabitants (he says) were afraid to 
 
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. 305 
 
 come near our cows and horses, nor did they form the 
 least conception of their nature. But the sheep and goats 
 did not surpass the limits of their ideas, for they gave us 
 to understand, they knew them to be birds.'''' 
 
 Captain Cook informs us, that these people were ac- 
 quainted with only three sorts of animals, viz. dogs, hogs, 
 and birds. — Having never before seen any such animals as a 
 cow or a horse, they beheld their great size and formidable 
 aspect with admiration ; filled with fear, they could not be 
 induced to approach, and knew not what to call or think 
 of them. They noticed the goats and the sheep, and 
 clearly saw, that they were different from the dogs and 
 hogs, with which they had been acquainted. But how 
 ,did it happen, that they called them birds } 
 
 There is no nation so rude and uncivilized, as not to have 
 formed a few classifications, and not to possess a few gen- 
 eral terms. Having noticed a variety of birds in their 
 waters and forests, the people of Wateeoo had undoubt- 
 edly found it necessary before this period to assign some 
 general name or appellative to the flying animal, expres- 
 sive of those resemblances, which evidently pervade the 
 whole class. They called them, we will suppose, birds. 
 Knowing there was a great variety of them, and that they 
 \^ere of different sizes, they not unnaturally applied the 
 same term to the sheep and goats of the English. They 
 knew not but there mi^ht be some new class of birds, 
 which they had not hitherto noticed ; and they saw no 
 insuperable objection, in the size of the sheep and goats, to 
 this disposition of them, whatever other objection they 
 might subsequently have found. 
 
 But they could clearly have no thoughts of this kind 
 in respect to cows and horses ; and as to hogs and dogs 
 they had no generic term for them, having never known 
 more than one variety or class, and having never been led 
 to suspect, that there was or could be any other. 
 
 §. 231 . Of the nature of general abstract ideas. 
 
 The notions, which are thus formed in all cases of 
 classification, are commonlv known, in the Treatises hav- 
 £9" 
 
S06 GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. 
 
 ing relation to these subjects, as General Abstract ideas. 
 And they are no less numerous than the multiplied varie- 
 ties of objects, which are found to exist every where 
 around us. It is thus, that we form the general notions 
 of animal and of all the subordinate species of animals ; 
 of tree and its numerous varieties ; of earths, and miner- 
 als, and whatever else is capable of being arranged into 
 classes. 
 
 We may apply these views not only to natural objects, 
 but to forms and relations of a verv different character. 
 The word Triangle is the name of a general abstract idea. 
 Great exceptions howxver have been taken to certain in- 
 cautious expressions of Mr. Locke on this point. He as- 
 serts, that it requires some pains and skill to form the 
 general idea of a triangle, and gives the following reason ; 
 " for it must be neither oblique, nor rectangle, neither 
 equilateral, equicrural, nor scalenon, but all and none of 
 these at once," &c. This language is undoubtedly open 
 to criticism, and in truth has not failed to receive a full 
 share. The correct view seems to be this. The word tri- 
 angle is not only the name of a class, but of a very gen- 
 eral class ; it is the name of a Genus, embracing all those 
 figures, which agree in the circumstance of being bound- 
 ed by three straight lines meeting one another so as to fonii 
 three angles. A figure having any other form, (in other 
 words not exhibiting a resemblance or similarity in this 
 respect,) is excluded from the Genus ; but it is still so 
 extensive, taken in the sense just now mentioned, as to in- 
 clude all figures whatever of that name. Now there 
 
 are embraced within the genus, as in numerous other ca- 
 ses, subordinate classes, which are distinguished by their 
 appropriate names, viz, the class of acute-angled triangles, 
 that of right-angled triangles, of obtuse-angled triangles,&c. 
 
 But it is to be noticed, that the general idea, what- 
 ever objects it may be founded upon, does not embrace 
 every particular, which makes a part of such objects. 
 When we look at a number of men, we find them all dif- 
 fering in some respects, in height, size, colour, tone of the 
 voice, and in other particulars. The mind fixes only up- 
 
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. 807 
 
 on those traits or properties, .with which it can combine 
 the notion of resemblance ; that is to say, those traits, 
 qualities, or properties, in which the individuals are per- 
 ceived to be like, or to resemble each other. The com- 
 plex mental state, which embraces these qualities and 
 properties, and nothing more, (with the exception of the 
 superadded notion of other bodies having resembling 
 qualities,) is a General Abstract idea. 
 
 And hence the name. Such notions are called ab- 
 stract, because, while embracing many individuals in 
 certain respects, they detach and leave out altogether a 
 variety of particulars, in which those individuals disa- 
 gree. If there were not this discrimination and leaving 
 out of certain parts, we never could consider these no- 
 tions, regarded as wholes, as otherwise than individual 
 or particular.— -They are called general, because, in Con- 
 sequence of the discrimination and selection v/hich has 
 just been mentioned, they embrace such qualities and prop- 
 erties as exist not in one merely, but in many. 
 
 The difference, therefore, between the complex notion, 
 which we form of any particular object, and the general 
 complex feeling now under consideratiofi is truly this ; 
 the latter combines together fewer particulars, but unites 
 with such, as it does combine together, the additional no- 
 tion of resemblance, which implies as its basis the compar- 
 ison of a number of objects, and is perhaps the distin- 
 guishing circumstance- Hence it must be allowed, that 
 
 there is no outward object precisely corresponding to the 
 GENERAL NOTION, which v/o form. The mind takes into 
 view only a division or part of any one object, combining 
 Avith this select view the notion of other objects, and the 
 relation of resemblance, in respect to such division or 
 part. 
 
 If it should be asked, By virtue of what principle is 
 this discovery of a resembling relation made ? The answer 
 is, (and it is the only one, which C2^n be given,) that there 
 is in the mind an original tendency or susceptibility, by 
 means of which, whenever we perceive different objects 
 together,we are instantly, without the intervention of any 
 
SOS GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. 
 
 other mental process, sensible of their relation in certain 
 respects. 
 
 §. 232. Objection sometimes made to the existence of gener- 
 al notions. 
 
 It should not, however, be objected, as is sometimes 
 done, that we can have no such general notion at all, 
 because there is nothing outward, which it precisely cor- 
 responds to. Such an objection, although it appears to 
 have been frequently made, goes too far ; it would seem 
 even to lead to the conclusion, that we can have no com- 
 plex idea of any kind, neither particular nor general. It 
 cannot be pretended, that even our notions of particular 
 objects correspond precisely to those objects ; the ideas, 
 which we form of a particular house, tree, or plant, or 
 any other individual object, are often erroneous in some 
 respects, and probably always imperfect. But they are 
 not, for that reason, to be regarded as false and chimerical, 
 and to be rejected as having no foundation in nature. 
 
 We will suppose ourselves to have been acquainted in 
 former years with a particular elm ; we have looked up- 
 on it a thousand times ; and it is familiar to us as anv of 
 our most cherished remembrances. At this great distance 
 of time and place we form an idea, a conception, a notion 
 of it, but it cannot be presumed to be a perfect or complete 
 one. It cannot be pretended, that we have a notion 
 not only of the trunk, but of every leaf and of the form of 
 overy leaf, of every branch and its intertwinings with ev- 
 ery other branch ; that it exists in our minds precisely, 
 and in every respect, the same as it exists on the spot, 
 where it grows. If therefore general abstract ideas are 
 to be rejected, because they embrace only parts of those 
 objects, which are ranked under them, we must on the 
 same grounds reject and deny also our complex notions of 
 individual objects ; but this probably no one is prepared 
 to do. 
 
 Take another obvious illustration in reproof of the 
 objection, that, because general abstract ideas are j)urely 
 jmental, and have no outward and corresponding reality, 
 thev therefore do not exist. — We have an idea of God. We 
 
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. S09 
 
 presume to say, that it will be readily admitted, that we 
 have such a notion ; not manj'- men are without it, even 
 among the most degraded Savages. But evidently the 
 same objection might be raised against the existence of any 
 such idea, as has been raised against the existence of gen- 
 eral abstractions. If general abstract ideas are not out- 
 wardly represented, so that of the Supreme Being, which 
 is particular though complex, is also not outwardly repre- 
 sented ; it is impossible, that it should be so. There is 
 nothing we behold in heaven, or on earth, or under the 
 earth, that is like Him. If every object in the universe 
 were transformed into so many letters of light, to set forth 
 his attributes and glory, they could not do it. Still we 
 have the idea of God ; and it has as real an existence as 
 the mind has itself. 
 
 §. 233. Of the power of general abstraction in connection with 
 numbers, ^'C 
 
 The ability, which the mind possesses of forming gen- 
 eral abstract ideas, is of much practical importance ; but 
 whether it be the characteristical attribute of a rational na- 
 ture or not, as some have supposed, it is not necessary now 
 to inquire. It is not easy to estimate the increase of pow- 
 er, which is thus given to the action of the human mind, 
 particularly in reasoning. By means of general abstract 
 propositions, we are able to state volumes in a few senten- 
 ces ; that is to say, the truths, stated and illustrated in a few 
 general propositions, would fill volumes in their particular 
 applications. But it is enough here to refer to a single 
 circumstance in illustration of the uses of this power. 
 
 Without the ability of forming general notions, we 
 should not be able to number, even in the smallest degree. 
 Before we can consider objects as forming a multitude, or 
 are able to number them, it seems necessary to be able to 
 apply to them a common name. This we cannot do, until 
 we have reduced them to a genus ; and the formation of a 
 genus implies the power, (or process rather,) of abstraction. 
 Consequently, we should be unable without such power 
 to number. — How great then is the practical importance 
 
SIO GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. 
 
 of that intellectual process, by which general abstractions 
 are formed ! — Without the ability to number, we should 
 be at loss in all investigations where this ability is requir- 
 ed ; without the power to classify, all our speculations 
 must be be limited to particulars, and we should be capable 
 of no general reasoning. 
 
 §. 234. Of general abstract truths or principles. 
 
 There are not only general abstract ideas, but abstract 
 truths or principles also of a general nature, which are 
 deserving of some attention, especially in a practical point 
 of view. Although enough has perhaps already been said 
 to show the importance of abstraction, it may yet be de- 
 sirable to have a more full view of its applications. 
 
 The process, in forming general truths or principles of 
 an abstract nature, seems to be this. We must begin un- 
 doubtedly with the examination and study of particulars ; 
 with individual objects and characters, and with insulated 
 events. We subsequently confirm the truth of whatever 
 has been ascertained in such inquiry, by an observation of 
 other like bodies and events. We proceed from one indi- 
 vidual to another, till no doubt remains. 
 
 Having in this way arrived at some general fact or 
 principle, we thenceforward throw aside the consideration 
 of the particular objects on which it is founded, and make 
 it alone, exclusively and abstractly, the subject of our 
 mental contemplations. We repeat this process again and 
 again, till the mind,instead of being wholly taken up with a 
 multitude of particulars, is stored with truths of a general 
 kind. These truths it subsequently combines in trains of 
 reasoning, compares together and deduces from them 
 others of still wider application. And the number of such 
 general truths is the greater, because, in ascertaining them 
 we are not restricted to our own personal experience in 
 respect to the individuals coming under examination, but 
 may often safely avail ourselves of that of others. 
 
 §. 235. OJ the speculations of philosophers and others. 
 
 What has been said leads us to observe, that there is a 
 
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS. 311 
 
 characteristical diiFerence between the speculations of men 
 of philosophic minds and those of the common mass of 
 people, which is worthy of some notice. The diiFerence 
 between the two is not so much, that philosophers are ac- 
 customed to carry on processes of reasoning to a greater 
 extent, as this, that they are more in the habit of emplov- 
 iiig general abstract ideas and general terms, and that, con- 
 sequently, the conclusions which they form are more com- 
 prehensive. Nor are their general reasonings, although the 
 conclusions at which they arrive seem in their particular 
 applications to indicate wonderful fertility of invention, 
 so difficult in the performance as is apt to be supposed. They 
 have so often and so long looked at general ideas and gen- 
 eral propositions, have been so accustomed, as one may 
 say, to contemplate the general nature of things, divested 
 of all superfluous and all specific circumstances, that they 
 have formed a habit ; and the operation is performed with- 
 out difficulty. It requires in such persons no greater intel- 
 lectual effort, than would be necessary in skilfully mana- 
 ging the details of ordinary business. 
 
 The speculations of the great bulk of mankind differ 
 from those of philosophers in being, both in the subjects 
 of them and in their results, particular. They discover 
 an inability to enlarge their view to universal propositions, 
 which embrace a great number of individuals. They may 
 possess the power of mere argument, of comparing propo- 
 sitions together which concern particulars, and deducing 
 inferences from them to a great degree ; but when they 
 attempt to contemplate general propositions, their minds 
 are perplexed, and the conclusions, which are drawn from 
 them, appear obscure,however clearly the previous process 
 of reasoning may have been expressed. And this restrict- 
 edness and particularity of intellectual action may be even 
 superinduced on minds, that were . originally not wanting 
 in breadth of survey, or had at least the advantages of ed- 
 ucation. 
 
CHAPTER FOURTEENTH. 
 
 OF ATTENTION. 
 
 §. 2SQ. Of the general nature of attention. 
 
 Without considering it necessary to speak of atten- 
 tion as a separate intellectual power or faculty, as some 
 may be inclined to do, it seems to be sufficient to say, that 
 ATTENTION expresses the state of the mind, when it is stead- 
 ily directed, for a length of time, to some object of' sense 
 or intellect, exclusive of other objects. When we say, 
 that any external object, or any subject of thought, which 
 is purely internal, receives attention, it seems to be the 
 fact, as far as we are able to determine, that the mind is 
 occupied with the subject of its attention, whatever it is, 
 for a certain period, and that all other things are for the 
 time being, shut out. In other Avords, the grasp, which 
 the mind fixes upon the object of its comtemplations, is 
 an undivided, an unbroken one. 
 
 But it is natural to inquire. How this differs from the 
 direction of the mind to a subject in any other case ? Since 
 in all instances, the mind, for the time being, is in one state 
 merely ; it always embraces one subject or part of a sub- 
 ject, exchisive of others. ^The answer to be given to 
 
 this inquiry is, that in attention the direction of the mind 
 to a particular subject, or, (what is the same thing,) its 
 continuance in a particular state or series of states, is ac- 
 companied with a feeling of preference, desire, or interest; 
 
OF ATTENTION. 313 
 
 which feeling of desire is the cause of that continuance. 
 So that in all cases of attention, the act of the mind is a 
 complex one, involving two things, (1) The mere thought 
 or series of thoughts, (2) The accompanying emotion of 
 interest, which prevents that continual change in the 
 thought, which would otherwise happen. 
 
 §. 237. Of different degrees of attention. 
 
 In agreement with this view of the subject, we often 
 speak of attention greiit or small, as existing in a very 
 high or a very slight degree. When the view of the mind 
 is only momentary, and is unaccompanied, as it generally 
 is at such times, with any force of emotion ; then ihe at- 
 tention is said to be slight. When it bends itself upon a 
 thought or series of thoughts with earnestness, and for a 
 considerable length of time, and refuses to attend to any 
 thing else ; then the attention is said to be intense. 
 
 We commonly judge at first of the ilegree of attention 
 to a subject from the length of time, during which the 
 mind is occupied with it. But when we look a little fur- 
 ther, it will be found, that the time will generally depend 
 upon the strength and permanency of the attendant emo- 
 tion of interest. And hence both the time and the degree 
 of feeling are to be regarded in our estimate of the pow- 
 er of attention in any particular case ; the former being 
 the result, and, in some sense, a measure of the latter. 
 
 Of instances of people, who are able to give but slight 
 attention to any subject of thought, who cannot bring 
 their ^ minds to it with steadiness and power, we every 
 where find multitudes ; and there are some instances 
 where this ability has been possessed in such a high degree 
 as to be worthy of notice. There have been mathemati- 
 cians, who could investigate the most complicated prob- 
 lems amid every variety and character of disturbance. ' It 
 was said of Julias Caesar, that, while writing a despatch, 
 he could at the same time dictate four others to his secre- 
 taries, and if he did not write himself, could dictate sev- 
 en letters at once. The same thing is asserted also of the 
 emperor Napoleon, who had a wonderful capability of di- 
 40 
 
314 OF ATTENTION. 
 
 reeling his whole mental energy to whatever came before 
 him.* 
 
 The chess-player Philidor could direct three games of 
 chess at the same time, of one of which only he required 
 ocular inspection,»the moves of the other two being an- 
 nounced to him by an assistant. The moves of the chess- 
 men formed the subject, about which his thoughts were 
 employed, and such was the intensity' of interest, that the 
 mind found no difficulty in dwelling upon it to the ex- 
 clusion of other subjects, and for a considerable length of 
 time. 
 
 §. 2S8. Dependence of memory on attention. 
 
 There seems to be no fact in mental philosophy more 
 clearly established than this, that memory depends on at- 
 tention ; that is, where attention is very slight, remem- 
 brance is w^eak, and where attention is intense, remem- 
 brance continues longer. The following statement of Mr. 
 Hobbes, in his political treatise of the Leviathan, will tend 
 to illustrate this fact. He says, he was once in compa- 
 ny, where the conversation turned on the English civil 
 war. A person abruptly asked, in the course of the con- 
 versation, What was the value of a Roman denarius ? 
 Such a question, so remote from the general direction of 
 the conversation, had the appearance not only of great ab- 
 ruptness, but of impertinence. Mr. Hobbes says, that, 
 on a little reflection, he was able to trace the train of 
 thought, which suggested the question. The original 
 subject of discourse naturally introduced the history of 
 king Charles ; the king naturally suggested the treache- 
 ry of those, who surrendered him up to his enemies ; the 
 treachery of these persons readily introduced to the mind 
 the treachery of Judas Iscariot ; the conduct of Judas was 
 associated with the thirty pieces of silver, and as the Ro- 
 mans occupied Judea at the time of the crucifixion of the 
 Saviour, the pieces of silver were associated with the Ro- 
 man denarii. All these trains of thought passed through 
 the mind of the person,, who asked the question, in a 
 ' Segur's Histofy ofthc Expedition to Russia, Bk. VII, c u. 13. 
 
OF ATTENTION. SI 5 
 
 • 
 
 twinkling ; and with good reason Mr. Stewart, in remark- 
 ing on this anecdote, thinks it not improbable, that he 
 would himself have been unable readily to state the train 
 
 of ideas, which led to the unexpected inquirj^ Every 
 
 one is able to detect analogous facts in his own mental ex- 
 periences. We unexpectedly find ourselves reflecting on 
 a subject, to which- we must have been conducted by a 
 long concatenation of thought. But the preceding series, 
 which conducted to the present subject of our meditations, 
 occupied our attention for so short a time, that no foun- 
 dation was laid for the memory, and it has irretrievably 
 vanished. 
 
 §. 239. Further iUvMrcdions of the dependence of memory on 
 attention. 
 
 There are other fgfcts perhaps of a still more obvious 
 and satisfactory nature, which confirm the principle un- 
 der consideration. In the course of a single day persons, 
 who are in the habit of wunking, will close their eyelids 
 perhaps thousands of times, and as often as they close 
 them will place themselves in utter darkness. Probably, 
 they are conscious at the time both of closing their eye- 
 lids and of being in the dark, but as their attention is 
 chiefly taken up with other things, they have entirely for- 
 gotten it. 
 
 (2) Let a person be much engaged in conversation, or 
 occupied with any very interesting speculation, and the 
 clock will strike in the room where he is, apparently with- 
 out his having any knowledge of it. He hears the clock 
 strike as much as at any other time, but, not attending to 
 the perception of sound and having his thoughts* directed 
 another way, he immediately forgets. 
 
 (3) In the occupations of the day, when toils, and tu- 
 mults, and cares are pressing us on every side, a thousand 
 things escape our notice ; they appear to be neither seen 
 nor heard, nor to affect us in any way whatever. But at 
 the stillness of evening, when toils are quieted, and there 
 is a general pause in nature, we seem to be endued with a 
 new sense, and the slightest sound attracts our attention, 
 Shakspeare has marked even this. 
 
316 
 
 OF ATTENTION. 
 
 V( I 
 
 " The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark 
 " When neither is attended ; and, I think, 
 " The nightingale, if she should sing by day, 
 " When every goose is cackling, would he thought 
 " No better a musician than the wren." 
 
 It is on the same principle, that people, dwelling in 
 the vicinity of waterfalls, do not appear to notice the 
 sound. The residents in the neighbourliood even of the 
 great Cataract of Niagara are not seriously disturbed by 
 it, although it is an unbroken, interminable thunder to all 
 
 others. The reason in all these cases is the same, as 
 
 has already been given. There is no attention, and no 
 remembrance, and of course virtually no perception. 
 
 (4) Whenever we read a book, we do not observe the 
 words merely as a whole, but every letter of which they 
 are made up, and even the minute parts of these letters. 
 But it is merely a glance ; it does not for any length of time 
 occupy cur attention ; we immediately forget, and with 
 great difficulty persuade ourselves, that we have truly 
 perceived the letters of the word. The fact, that every 
 letter is in ordinary cases observed by us, may be prov'ed 
 by leaving out a letter of the word, or by substituting oth- 
 ers of a similar form. We readily in reading detect such 
 omissions or substitutions. 
 
 (5) An expert accountant can sum up, almost witli a 
 single glance of the eye, a long column of figures. The 
 operation is performed almost instantaneously, and yet he 
 ascertains the sum of the whole with unerring certainty. 
 It is impossible, that he should learn the sum without 
 noticing every figure in the whole column, and without 
 allowing each its proper worth ; but the attention to them 
 was so very slight, that he is unable to remember this dis^ 
 tinct notice. 
 
 Many facts of this kind evidently show, as we think, 
 that memory depends upon attention or rather upon a con- 
 tinuance of attention, and varies with that continuance. 
 
 §. 240. Of exercising attention in reading, ^'-c. 
 
 Jf attention, as we have seen, be requisite to memory, 
 
OF ATTENTION. 317 
 
 then we are furnished with a practical rule of considera- 
 ble importance. The rule is, Not to give a hasty and care- 
 less reading of authors, but to read them with a suitable 
 degree of deliberation and thought. — It is the fault of some 
 persons, that they are too quickly weary, that they skip 
 from one author to another, and from one sort of knowl- 
 edge to another. It is true, there are many things to be 
 known ; we would not have a person limit himself entirely 
 to one science, but it is highly important, that he should 
 guard against that rapid and careless transition from sub- 
 ject to subject, Vv^hich has been mentioned. 
 
 If we be asked the reason of this direction, v^e find a 
 good and satisfactory one in the fact referred to at the 
 head of this section, that there cannot be memory with- 
 out attention, or rather that the power of memory will 
 vary with the degree of attention . By yielding to the de- 
 sire of becoming acquainted with a greater variety of de- 
 partments of knowledge, than the understanding is able 
 to master, and, as a necessary consequence, by bestowing 
 upon each of them only a very slight attention, we remain 
 essentially ignorant of the whole. 
 
 The person, who pursues such a course, finds himself 
 unable to recal what he has been over ; he has a great 
 many half-formed notions floating in his mind, but these 
 are so ill shaped and so little under his control as to be but 
 little better than actual ignorance. This is one evil result, 
 of reading authors and of going over sciences in the 
 careless way which has been specified, that the knowl- 
 edge thus acquired, if it can be called knowledge, is .of 
 very little practical benefit, in Consequence of being so 
 poorly digested, and so little under control. 
 
 But there is another and perhaps more serious evil. 
 This practice greatly disqualifies one for all intellectual 
 pursuits. To store the mind with new ideas is only a part 
 of education. It is at least a matter of equal importance, 
 to impart to all the mental powers a suitable discipline, to 
 exercise those that are strong, to strengthen tiiose that are 
 weak, and to maintain among all pf them a suitable bal- 
 ance. An attentive and thorough examination of subjects 
 
318 OF .ATTENTION. 
 
 is a training up of the mind in both these respects. It fur- 
 nishes it with that species of knowledge, which is most 
 valuable, because it is not mixed up with errours ; and 
 myreover, gives a strength and consistency to the whole 
 structure of the intellect. Whereas, when the mind is 
 long left at liberty to wander from object to object, with- 
 out being called to account and subjected to the rules of 
 salutary discipline, it entirely loses at last the ability to 
 dwell upon the subjects of itsthoughts, and to examine 
 them. And when this power is once lost, there is but lit- 
 tle ground to expect any solid attainments. 
 
 §.241. Alleged inability to coimnand the attention. 
 
 We are aware that those, who are required to follow 
 the directions above given as to a close and thorough ex- 
 amination of subjects, will sometimes complain, that they 
 find a great obstacle in their inability to fix their attention. 
 They are not wanting in ability to comprehend, but find 
 it difficult to retain the mind in one position so long, as to 
 enable them to connect together ai^the parts of a subject, 
 and duly estimate their various bearings. When this in- 
 tellectual defect exists, it becomes a new reason for that 
 thorough examination of subjects, which has been above 
 recommended. It has probably been caused by a neglect 
 of such strictness of examination, ^nd by a too rapid and 
 careless transition from one subject to another. 
 
 Attention, it will be recollected, expresses the state 
 of the mind, when it is steadily directed for some time, 
 whether longer or shorter, to sOme object of sense or in- 
 tellect, exclusive of other objects. All other objects are 
 shut out ; and when this exclusion of every thing else con- 
 tinues for some time, the attention is said to be intense. 
 
 Now it is well known, that such an exclusive direc- 
 tion of the mind cannot exist for any long period, without 
 being accompanied with a feeling of desire or interest. In 
 the greatest intellectual exertions, not the mere powers of 
 judging, of aostracting, and of reasoning, are concerned ; 
 there will also .be a species of excitement of the feelings. 
 And it will be found, that no feeling will effectually con- 
 
OF ATTENTION. 319 
 
 fine the minds of men in scientific pursuits, but a love of 
 the truth. 
 
 Mr. Locke thought, that the person, who should find 
 out a remedy for the wandering of thoughts, would do 
 great service to the studious and contemplative part of 
 mankind.. We know of no other remedy, than the one 
 just mentioned, a love of the truth, a desire to know the 
 nature and relations of thiDgs,merely for the sake of knowl- 
 edge. It is true, that a conviction of duty will do much ; 
 ambition and interest may possibly do more ; but when 
 the mind is led to deep investigations by these views mere- 
 ly, it is a tiresome process, and after all is ineffectual. 
 Nothing byt a love of the truth for its own sake will per- 
 manently keep off the intrusions of foreign thoughts, and 
 secure a certainty of success. The excellency, therefore, 
 of knowledge, considered merely *as suited to the intellect- 
 ual nature of man, and as indicative of the character of 
 that Being, who is the true source of all knowledge and 
 the fashioner of all intellect, cannot be too frequently im- 
 pressed. 
 
 The person, who is capable of strictly fixing his atten- 
 tion, will have a great advantage over others. Of two 
 persons, who seem naturally to have equal parts, the one, 
 who possesses this characteristic, will greatly excel. So 
 that it is hardly too much to say, that it may become a 
 sort of substitute for genius itself. 
 
CHAPTER FIFTEENTH. 
 
 DREAMING. 
 
 §. 242. Definition of ctreams and the prevalence of them. 
 
 Among numerous other subjects in mental pliilosophy, 
 •\vliich claim their share of attention, that of Dreaming is 
 entitled to its place ; nor can we be certain, that any oth- 
 er will be found more appropriate to it than the present, 
 especially when we consider, hovtr closely it is connected 
 in all its forms with our sensations and conceptions. And 
 what are Dreams ? It approaches perhaps sufficiently near 
 to a correct general description to say, that they are our 
 mental states and operations while w^ are asleep. But the 
 particular view^, which are to be taken in the examination 
 of this subject, will not fail to throw light on this general 
 statement. 
 
 The mental states and exercises, which go under this 
 name, have ever excited much interest. It is undoubtedly 
 one reason of the attention, which the subject of our dreams 
 has ever elicited among all classes of people, that they are 
 so prevalent ; it being very difficult, if not impossible, to 
 find a person, who has not had more or less of this expe- 
 rience. Mr. Locke, however, tells us of an individual, 
 who never dreamed till the twenty sixth year of his age, 
 when he happened to have a fever, and theh dreamed for 
 the first time. Plutarch also mentions one Cleon, a friend 
 of his, who lived to an advanced age, and yet had never 
 
DREAMING. S21 
 
 dreamed once in his life, and remarks, that he had heard 
 the same thing reported of Thrasymedcs. 
 
 Undoubtedly these persons dreamed very seldom, as 
 we find that some dream much more than others ; but it 
 is possible, that they may have dreamed at some times? 
 and entirely forgotten it. So that if cannot with certainty 
 be inferred from such instances as these, that there are any, 
 who are entirely exempt from dreaming. 
 
 §. 243. Connection of dreams loilh our waking thoughts. 
 
 In giving an explanation of dreams, our attention is 
 first arre-tei by the circumstance, that they have an inti- 
 mate relationship with our waking thoughts. The great 
 body of our Avaking experiences appear in the form' of 
 trains of associations ; and these trains of associated ideas, 
 in greater or less continuity, and with greater or less va- 
 riation, continue when we are asleep. Many facts show 
 this. 
 
 Condorcet, (a name famous in the history of France,) 
 told some one, that while he was engaged in abstruse and 
 profound calculations, he was frequently obliged to leave 
 them in an unfinished state, in order to retire to rest ; and 
 that the remaining steps and the conclusion of his calcula- 
 tions have more than once presented themselves in his 
 
 dreams. Franklin also has^made the remark, that the 
 
 bearings and results of political events, which had caused 
 him much trouble while awake, were not unfrequently 
 
 unfolded to him in dreaming. " In my sleepless nights, 
 
 and in my dreams., (says Fouche, when fleeing into Italy 
 in consecjence of certain alleged political heresies,) I im- 
 agined myself surrounded by executioners, and seemed, 
 as if I beheld, in the native country of Dante, the inexo- 
 rable vision of his infernal gates. "^ 
 
 It seems clearly to follow from such statements as 
 these, which are confirmed by the experience of almost 
 every person, that our dreams are fashioned from the ma- 
 
 * Memoirs of Fouche, duke d'Otranto, minister of the General 
 Police of France, p. 267. 
 41 
 
322 DREAMING. 
 
 terials of the thoughts which we have while awake ; in 
 other w^ords they will, in a great degree, he merely the 
 repetition of our customary and prevailing associations- 
 
 §. 244. Dreams are often caused by our sensations. 
 
 But while we are to look for the materials of our 
 dreams in thoughts which had previously existed, we fur- 
 ther find that they are' not beyond the influence of those 
 slight bodily sensations, of which v»^e are susceptible even 
 in hours of sleep. These sensations, slight as they are, 
 are the means of introducing one set of associations rather 
 than another. 
 
 Dugald Stewart relates an incident, which maybe con- 
 sidered an evidence of this, that a person, with whom he 
 was acquainted, had occasion, in consequence of an indis- 
 position, to apply a bottle of hot water to his feet when 
 he went to bed, and the consequence was, that he dreamed 
 he was making a journey to the top of mount ^Etna, and 
 that he found the heat of the ground almost insupportable. 
 There was once a gentleman in the English army, who 
 was so susceptible of audible impressions, w«hile he was 
 asleep, that his companions could make him dream'of what 
 they pleased. Once, in particular, they made liim go 
 through the whole process of a duel, from the preliminary 
 arrangements to the firing of the pistol, which they put 
 into his hand for that purpose, and which, when it explo- 
 ded, waked him. 
 
 A cause of dreams closely allied to the above is the 
 variety of sensations, which we experience from the stom- 
 ach, viscera, &c. Persons, for instance, who have been 
 
 for a long time deprived of food, or have received it only 
 in small quantities, hardly enough to preserve life, will be 
 likely to have dreams, in sonae way or other directly rela- 
 ting to their condition. Baron Trenck relates, that being 
 almost dead with hunger, when confined in his dun<:eon, 
 his dreams every night presented to him the well filled 
 and luxurious tables of Berlin, from which, as they were 
 presented before him, he imagined he was about to relieve 
 hia hunger. " The night had far advanced, (says Irving, 
 
 ■ 
 
DREAMING. 323 
 
 speaking of the voyage of Menclez to Hispaniola,) but 
 those, whose turn it was to take repose, were unable to 
 sleep from the intensity of their thirst ; or if they slept, " 
 it was but to be tantalized with dreams of cool fountains 
 and running brooks." 
 
 The state of health also has considerable influence, not 
 only in producing dreams, but in giving them a particular 
 character. The remark has been made by medical men, 
 that acute diseases, particularly fevers, are often preceded, 
 and indicated by disagreeable and oppressive dreams. 
 
 §. 245. Explanation of the incoherency of dreams. {\st cause.) 
 
 There is frequently much of wildness, inconsistency, 
 and contradiction in our dreams. The mind passes very 
 rapidly from one object to another ; strange <ind singular 
 incidents occur. If our dreams be truly the repetition of 
 our waking thoughts, it may well be inquired, How this 
 wildness and inconsistency happen ? 
 
 The explanation of this peculiarity resolves itself into 
 
 two parts.- Tha first ground or cause of it is, that our 
 
 dreams ftre not subjected, like our waking thoughts, to 
 the control and regulation of surounding objects. While 
 we are awake, our trains of thought are kept uniform and 
 coherent by the influence of such objects, which continu- 
 ally remind us of our situation, character, and duties ; and 
 which keep in check any tendenqy to reverie. But in 
 sleep the senses are closed ; the soul is accordingly in a 
 great measure excluded from the material world, and is 
 thus deprived of the salutary regulating influence from 
 that source. 
 
 §. 245. Second cause of the incoherency of dreams. 
 
 In the second place, when we are asleep, our associa- 
 ted trains of thought are no longer under the control of 
 the mental power or susceptibility, which we term the 
 WILL. We do not mean to say, that the operations of that 
 susceptibility are suspended at such times, and that voli- 
 tions have no existence. On the contrary, there is sufli- 
 cient evidence of the continuance of its exercises in some 
 
S24 DREAMING. 
 
 degree; since volitions, must have made apart of the orig- 
 inal trains of thought, which are repeated in dreaming ; 
 and furthermore, we are often as conscious of exercising 
 or putting forth volitions when dreaming as of any other 
 mental acts, for instance imagining, remembering, assent- 
 ing, or reasoning. When we dream that we are attack- 
 ed by an enemy sword in hand, but happen as we suppose 
 in our dreaming experiences, to be furnished in self-de- 
 fence with an instrument of the same kind, we dream, that 
 we will to exert it for our own safety and against our an- 
 tagonist, and we as truly in this case put forth tlie mental 
 exercise which we term volition^ as, in any other, we exer- 
 cise remembrance, or imagine, or reason in our sleep. 
 
 Admitting that the power or susceptibility of willing 
 continues to "act in sleep, it is quite evident, that the voli- 
 tions, which are put forth by it have ceased to exercise 
 their customary influence in respect to our mental opera- 
 tions. But here it will be said, that the will is unable ta 
 exercise a direct influence over the successions of thought, 
 even when we are awake. This point has been already ex- 
 amined sufiiciently. (See §.214.) The conclusion, at which 
 we there arrived, was, that, although we have no direct, 
 we have an indirect power over the successions of thought, 
 which is very considerable ; for instance, by means of a 
 feeling of desire or interest we fix our attention upon some 
 particular part of any general subject, which has been 
 suggested, and thus give a new direction to the whole train 
 of mental operations. Although this power, which we 
 thus exercise, is indirect, we justly consider it a voluntary 
 power, and attrib-jte it to the faculty of the will. But the 
 moment we are soundly asleep, this influence ceases, and 
 hence in connection with the other cause above mention- 
 ed, arise the wildness, incoherency, and contradictions, 
 which exist. 
 
 A person while he is awake has his thoughts, (admit- 
 ting to the full extent the power which is commonly as- 
 cribed to association,) under such government, and is able, 
 by the indirect influence of volitions, so to direct them, as 
 to brincr them in the end to some conclusion, which he 
 
DREAMING. 32S 
 
 foresees, and which he wishes to arrive at. But in dream- 
 ing, as all directing and governing influence, both inter- 
 nal and external, is at an end, our associations seem to be 
 driven forward, much like a ship at sea without a rudder, 
 wherever it may happen. 
 
 §. 247. Apparent reality of dreams. {\st cause,) 
 
 When objects are presented to us in dreams, we look 
 upon them as real ; and events, and combinations and se- 
 ries of events appear the same. We feel the same interest 
 and resort to the same expedients, as in the perplexities or 
 enjoyments of real life. When persons are introduced, 
 as forming a part in the transactions of our dreams, we see 
 them clearly in their living attitudes and stature ; we con- 
 verse with them, and hear them speak, and behold them 
 move, as if actually present. 
 
 One reason of this greater vividness of our dreaming con- 
 ceptions and of our firm belief in their reality seems to 
 be this. The subjects, upon which okr thoughts are then 
 employed occupy the mind exclusively. We can form 
 a clearer conception of an object with our eyes shut, than 
 we can with them open, as any one will be convinced on 
 making the experiment ; and the liveliness of the concep- 
 tion will increase in proportion, as we can suspend the ex- 
 ercise of the other senses. In sound sleep, not only the 
 sight, but the other senses also may be said to be closed ; 
 and the attention is not continually diverted by the multi- 
 tude of objects, which arrest the hearing and touch, when 
 we are awake. 
 
 It is, therefore, a most natural supposition, that our con- 
 ceptions must at such times be extremely vivid and 
 distinct. At §. 202, we particularly remarked upon con- 
 ceptions of those ideas, which we have of absent objects 
 of perception, which possess this vividness of character. 
 And it there appeared, that they might be attended with 
 a momentary belief even when we are awake. But as con- 
 ceptions exist in the mind when we are asleep in a much 
 higher degree distinct and vivid, what was in the former 
 case a momentary, becomes in the latter a permanent be- 
 
326 DREAMING. 
 
 lief- Hence every thing has the appearance of reality ; 
 and the mere thoughts of the mind are virtually transform- 
 ed into persons, and varieties of situation, and events, 
 which are regarded by us in precisely the same light as 
 the persons, and situations, and events of our every day's 
 experience. 
 
 §. 248. Apparent reality of dreams. {2d cause.) 
 
 A second circumstance, which goes to account for 
 the fact that our dreaming conceptions have the ap- 
 pearance of reality is, that they are not susceptible of be- 
 ing controlled, either directly or indirectly, by mere vo- 
 lition.^ We are so formed as almost invariably to asso- 
 ciate reality with whatever objects of perception continue 
 to produce in us the same effects, A hard or soft body, 
 or any substance of a particular colour, or taste, or smell, 
 are always, when presented to our senses, folio-wed by cer- 
 tain states of mind essentially the same ; and we yield the 
 most ready and firm belief in the existence of such ob- 
 jects. In a word, we are disposed from our very constitu- 
 tion to believe in the existence of objects of perception, 
 the perceptions of which do not depend, on the will, but 
 which we find to be followed by certain states of the mind, 
 
 whether we choose it or not. But it is to be recollected, 
 
 that our dreaming thoughts are mere conceptions ; our 
 senses being closed and shut up, and external objects not 
 being presented to thejn. This is true. But if we con- 
 clude in favor of the real existence of objects of percep- 
 tion, because they produce in us sensations independently 
 of our volitions, it is but natural to suppose, that we 
 shall believe in the reality of our conceptions also, when- 
 ever they are in like manner beyond our voluntary con- 
 trol. They are both merely states of the mind ; and if 
 belief always attends our perceptions, wherever we find 
 them to be independent of our choice, there is no reason, 
 why conceptions, which are ideas of absent objects of per- 
 ception, should not be attended with a like belief under 
 the same circumstances.— And essentially the same cir- 
 cumstances exist in dreaming ; that is, a train of concep- 
 
DREAMING. 327 
 
 tions arise in the mind,, and we are conscious at such 
 times of being unable to exercise any direction or control 
 whatever over them. They exist, whether we will it or 
 not ; and we regard them as real. 
 
 §. 249. Of our estimate of time in dreamin^. 
 
 Our estimate of time in dreaming differs from that 
 when awake. Events, v/hich would take whole days or 
 a longer time in the performance, are dreamt in a few 
 moments. So wonderful is this compression of a multi- 
 tude of transactions into the very shortest period,that when 
 we are accidentally awakened by the jarri^ig of a door, 
 which is opened into a room where we are sleeping, we 
 sometimes dream of depredations by thieves, or destruc- 
 tion by fire, in the very instant of our awaking. Our 
 
 dreams will not unfrequently go through all the particu- 
 lars of a passage of the Alps, or of a military expedition to 
 Moscow, or of a circumnavigation of the globe, or of oth- 
 er, long and perilous undertakings, in a less number of 
 hours, than it took weeks, or months, or even years in the 
 actual performance of them. We go from land to land, 
 and from city to city, and into desert places ; we expe- 
 rience transitions from joy to sorrow, and from poverty 
 to wealth ; Vv^e are occupied in the scenes and transac- 
 tions of many long months; and then our slumbers are 
 scattered, and, behold, they are the doings of a single, 
 watch of the night ! 
 
 This striking circumstance in the history of our dreams 
 is generally explained by supposing, that our thoughts, as 
 they successively occupy the mind, are more rapid, than 
 while we are awake. But their rapidity is at all times very 
 great ; so much so, that, in a fev/ morjients, crowds of 
 ideas pass through the mind, which it would take a long 
 time to utter, and a far longer time would it take to per- 
 form all the transactions which they concern. This ex- 
 planation, therefore, is not satisfactory, for our thoughts 
 are oftentimes equally rapid in our waking moments. 
 
 The true reason, we apprehend is to be found in thos6 
 preceding sections, which took under examination the 
 
328 DREAMING. 
 
 apparent reality of dreams. Our conceptions in dreaming 
 are considered by us real ; every thought is an action ; 
 every idea is an event ; and successive states of mind are 
 successive actions and successive events. He, who in his 
 sleep has the conception of all the particulars of a milita- 
 ry expedition to Moscow, or of a circumnavigation of the 
 globe, seems to himself to have actually experienced all 
 the various and multiplied fortunes of the one and the 
 other. Hence what appears to be the real time in dreams, 
 but is only the apparent time, will not be that, which is 
 sufficient for the mere thought, but that, Avhichis neces- 
 sary for the successive actions. 
 
 " Something perfectly analogous to this may be re- 
 marked (says Mr. Stew^art) in the perceptions we obtain 
 by the sense of sight.* When I look into a shew-box, 
 where the deception is imperfect, I see orly a set of paltry 
 daubings of a few inches in diameter ; but if the repre- 
 sensation be executed with so much skill, as to convey to 
 me the idea of a distant prospect, every object before me 
 swells in its dimensions, in proportion to the extent of 
 space, which I conceive it to occupy, and what seemed 
 before to be shut w^ithin the limits of a small w^ooden 
 frame, is magnified, in my apprehension, to an immense 
 landscape of woods, rivers, and mountains." 
 
 250. Of the senses sinking to sleep in succession. 
 
 It is true as a general statement, that in sleep the mind 
 ceases to retain its customary power over the muscular 
 movements of the system ; and all the senses also are at 
 such times locked up, and no longer perform their usual 
 offices. The effect upon the senses is such, that it seems 
 to be proper to speak of them as individually going to 
 sleep, and awaking from sleep. It remains, therefore, to 
 be observed, that there is some considerable reason to 
 
 suppose, that the senses fall asleep in succession. For 
 
 a detailed explanation and proof of this singular fact ref- 
 erence must be had to Cullen, and particularly to Cabanis, 
 a French writer on subjects of this nature ; but the con- 
 
 * Stewart's Elements, Chapter on Dreaming. 
 
DREAMING. 829 
 
 elusions, at which they arrive on this particular pointy 
 may be here, stated.* 
 
 The sight, in consequence of the protection of the eye- 
 lids, ceases to receive impressions first, while all the 
 other senses preserve their sensibility entire ; and may, 
 therefore, be said to be first in falling asleep. The sense 
 of taste, according to the above v»Titers, is the next,jvhich 
 loses its susceptibility of impressions, and then the sense 
 of smelling. The hearing is the next in order, and last of 
 all comes the sense of touch. 
 
 Furthermore, the senses are thought to sleep with dif- 
 ferent degrees of profoundness. The senses of taste and 
 smelling awake the last ; the sight with more difficulty 
 than the hearing, and the touch the easiest of all. Some- 
 times a very considerable noise does not awake a person, 
 but if the soles of his feet are tickled in the slightest degree, 
 he starts up immediately. 
 
 Similar remarks are made by the writers above refer* 
 red to, on the muscles. Those, which move the arms and 
 legs, cease to act when sleep is approaching, sooner than 
 those, which sustain the head ; and the latter before those, 
 which support the back. And here it is proper to no- 
 tice an exception to the general statement at the com- 
 mencement of this section, that the mind in sleep ceases to 
 retain its power over the muscles. Some persons can 
 sleep standing, or walking, or riding on horseback : with 
 such we cannot well avoid the supposition, that the volun- 
 tary power over the muscles is in some way retained and 
 exercised in sleep. These statements are particularly im- 
 portant in connection with the facts of somnambulism ; 
 only admit, that the susceptibility of the senses, and the 
 power of the muscles may remain even in part while we 
 are asleep, and we can account for them. We know, that 
 this is not the case in a vast majority of instances, but that 
 it does sometimes happen, is a point, which seems at last 
 to be sufficiently well established. 
 
 * Rapports du Physique et du Moral De L'Honime, Mem. x, 
 
 - ' 42 ■ 
 
S30 DREAMING. 
 
 §, 251 . General remarks on cases of somnambulism. 
 With the general subject of dreaming, that of somnambu- 
 lism is naturally and intimately connected. Somnambulists 
 are persons, who are capable of walking and of other vol- 
 untary actions while asleep. Some of the facts in respect 
 
 to them are these. The senses are in general closed, and 
 
 are npt susceptible of being affected by outward objects, 
 much the same as in ordinary sleep; with some slight ex- 
 eeptions, however, hereafter to be mentioned. Hence the 
 somnambulist goes from place to place, and performs other 
 voluntary actions without the use of vision; and yet in some 
 cases he has his eyes open, but is still unable to see. Do- 
 ing the works of day at unseasonable hours, he piles up his 
 wood at midnight jOr yokes hi» oxen, or ploughs his field, 
 or goes to mill, and all the while is as profoundly asleep as 
 any of his neighbors ; until he falls over some obstacle at 
 his feet, or rides against a tree, or is in some other way 
 brought to his recollection. He is not certain of walkino- 
 in safe places, but may sometimes be found on the roof of 
 houses or on the edge of precipices, but evidently with an 
 utter insensibility to terrour. He is a sort of automatic 
 machine that is carried about from place to place, but with- 
 out feeling, vision, hearing, or other exercises of the senses; 
 and still more without calculation, or any thing, which 
 may be truly called reasoning ; always excepting such cal- 
 culation and reasoning as may be found in dreams. 
 
 §. 252. Explanation of cases of somnambulism. 
 
 But the inquiry now is. How can these things happen.-^ 
 How can men act and move in this way in slerp, which, 
 in all ordinary cases, implies a deprivation of the mus- 
 cular power, as well as the closure of the senses. The 
 
 explanation, so far as it presents itself at first, is this, viz, 
 (1) The somnambulist is in all cases dreaming, and we 
 may suppose in general, that the dream is one, which 
 
 greatly interests him* (2) Those volitions, which are 
 
 a part of his dreams, retain their power over the muscles, 
 which is not the fact in the sleep and the dreaming of the 
 great body of people. 
 
DREAMING. 3S1 
 
 Consequently, whatever the somnambulist dreams is not 
 only real in the mind, as in all other dreamers, but his 
 ability to exercise his muscles enables him to give it a re- 
 ality in action. Whether he dream of writing a letter, of 
 visiting a neighbour's house, of thrashing his grain, or 
 ploughing his field, his muscles are faithful to his vivid 
 mental conceptions, which we may suppose in all cases 
 closely connected with his customary labours and experi- 
 ences, and carry him pretty' safely through the operation, 
 however sightless may be his eye, or dull his other sen- 
 ses. 
 
 These are the views, which first present themselves in 
 the way of explanation. But the inquiry again arises. 
 How it happens, whi^e, in most cases, both senses and mus- 
 cles lose their power, in these on the contrary, the mus- 
 cles- are active, while the senses alone are asleep f In 
 
 reference to this inquiry, it must be acknowledged, that it 
 is involved at present in some uncertainty, although there 
 is much reason to anticipate, that it may hereafter receive 
 light from further investigations and knowledge of the 
 nervous system and functions. There is a set of nerves, 
 particularly connected with respiration, which appear to 
 have nothing to do with sensation and with muscular ac- 
 tion. There is another set, which are known to possess a 
 direct and important connection with sensation and the 
 muscles. These last are separable into distinct filaments, 
 having separate functions ; some being connected with 
 sensation merely, and others with volition and muscular 
 motion. In sensation the impression, made by some exter- 
 nal body, exists at first in the external part of the organ of 
 sense, and is propagated along one class of filaments to the 
 brain. . In volition and voluntary muscular movement,the 
 power of action, as far as the body is concerned, seems to 
 be the reverse, commencing in the brain, and being propa- 
 gated along other and appropriate nervous filaments to the 
 different parts of the system. And these last-mentioned, 
 in (trder to cause muscular action, require continuity and 
 soundness not less than those, connected with sensation. 
 Hence it sometimes happens, that in diseases of the ner- 
 
332 DREAMING. 
 
 vous system, the power of sensation is, in a great measure, 
 Jost, while that of motion fully remains. If the interesting 
 and recently developed facts now referred to should, on 
 further examination, be fully established, they will evi- 
 dently help to explain the difficulty under consi deration . 
 Causes unknown to us may operate, through their appro- 
 priate nervous filaments, to keep the muscles awake, with- 
 out disturbing the repose and inactivity of the senses. 
 
 Further ; We are not to forget here a remark on the 
 sleep of the senses, a subject already briefly alluded to, 
 and which is an exception to the general statement then 
 made in regard to them. Both in somnambulism and in 
 ordinary cases of dreaming the senses are not always en- 
 tirely locked up ; many observations clearly show, that it 
 is possible for the mind to be accessible through them, 
 and that a new direction may be given in this way to a 
 person's dreams without awaking him. Hence somnam- 
 bulists may sometimes have very slight visual perceptions; 
 they may in some slight measure be guided by sensations 
 of touch ; all the senses may be affected in a small degree 
 by their appropriate objects, or this may be the case with 
 some and not with others, without effectually disturbing 
 their sleep. These facts will be found to help in explain- 
 ing any peculiar circumstances, which may be thought 
 not to come within the reach of the general explanation, 
 which has been given. 
 
PART- SECOND. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL STATES OF THE MIND, 
 
 CLASS SECOND. 
 
 INTELLECTUAL STATES OF INTERNAL ORIGIN. 
 
CHAPTER FIRST. 
 
 OF INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE. - 
 
 §. ^5S. The soul has fountains of knowledge within. 
 
 We have tfaced the history of the mind thus Jfar 
 with continued and increased satisfaction, because we have 
 been guided solely by well authenticated facts,without the 
 least desire of exciting wonder by exaggeration, and with 
 no other feeling than that of knowing the truth. With 
 cautious endeavours not to trespass upon those limits, 
 which the Creator himself has set to our inquiries, we 
 have seen the mind placed in the position of a necessary 
 connection with the material world through the medium of 
 the senses, and in this way awakened into life, activity, 
 and power. Dumb matter seems to have been designed 
 and appointed by Providence as the handmaid and niirse 
 of the mind in the days of its infancy ; and for that pur- 
 pose to have been endued with form, and fragrance, and 
 colour the most various and delightful. Material eyes 
 were given to the soul, that it might see ; and material 
 hands, that it might handle ; and hearing, that it might 
 hear ; but the time shall come, when these outward and 
 bodily helps shall be taken away, and it will see, as it were, 
 face to face, and not as in a glass darkly. Even before, 
 the body is put off, and the senses are entirely closed up, 
 the spiritual eye begins to open, and the spiritual touch to 
 
336 INTERNAL ORIGIN. 
 
 feel ; in other words the soul finds knowledge in itself, 
 which neither sight, nor touch, nor hearing, nor any ot^er 
 sense, nor any outward forms of matter could give- 
 However interesting and fruitful may have been the train 
 of investigation, which has already been before us, it is to 
 be remembered, that we have hitherto seen the mind un- 
 folding its susceptibilities only in connection with external 
 impressions on the senses. A ilew view is to be taken 
 of it. 
 
 "The natural progress of all true learning, (says the au- 
 thor of Hermes, )is from sense to intellect." Beginning with 
 the senses, and first considering the sensations and ideas 
 which we ther^ receive, we are next to enter more exclu- 
 sively into the mind itself, and shall there discover a new 
 and prolific source of knowledge. And in thus doing, it is 
 a satisfaction to know, that we are treading essentially in 
 the steps of Mr. Locke, whose general doctrine undoubt- 
 edly is, that a part of our ideas only maybe traced to the 
 senses, and that the origin of others is to be sought whol- 
 ly in the intellect itself. 
 
 §. 254. Declaration of Mr. Locke, that the soul has knowl- 
 edge in itself. 
 
 After alluding to the senses as one great source of knowl- 
 edge, " the other fountain, (says Locke,) from which ex- 
 perience furnisheth the understanding with ideas, is the 
 perception of the operations of our own minds within us, 
 as it is employed about the ideas it. has got ; which opera- 
 tions, when the soul comes to reflect on and consider, do 
 furnish the understanding with another set of ideas, which 
 could not be had from things without, and such are per- 
 ception, thinking, doubting, believing, reasoning, know- 
 ing, willing, and all the different actings of our own minds, 
 which we being conscious of, and observing in ourselves, 
 do from these receive into our understandings ideas as 
 distinct, as we do from bodies afiecting our senses. This 
 source of ideas every man has wholly in himself. And 
 though it be not sense, as having nothing to do with ex- 
 ternal objects, yet it is very like it, and might properly 
 
OF KNOWMLDGE. 337 
 
 enouffh be called internal sense. But as I call the oth- 
 er sensation, so I call this Reflection ; the ideas it affords 
 being such only as the mind gets by reflecting on its own 
 ojierations within itself." 
 
 It is perhaps necessary to remark here, that we intro- 
 duce this passage from Mr. Locke, merely in support of 
 the general doctrine, without wishing to intimate a full 
 approbation of the manner, in which he has applied it in 
 its details. What we say now concerns the general ques- 
 tion ; and in reference to that question, the passage just 
 referred to is undoubtedly weighty in itself, as well as in 
 consequence of the great fame and acknowledged dis- 
 cernment of its author. It would seem to be the doctrine 
 of Mr. Locke, that our knowledge begins v/ith sensation ; 
 that impressions, made on the bodily system, are the first 
 occasions of bringing the mind into action, so far as we 
 can judge. Nor is it necessary to make any objection to 
 this view ; it is very reasonable, and pains have already 
 been taken to show, that it is clearly worthy of the utmost 
 regard. But it does not follov/ from this, (and the pas- 
 sage just quoted shows, that Mr. Locke did not suppose it 
 thus to follow,) that the sensation is the only source of 
 knowledge. There is undeniably something distinct from 
 sensation ; thoughts, which have an interiour origin, and 
 cannot be represented by any thing external ; principles, 
 so far from being directly dependent on sensation, that 
 they control, compare, appreciate, judge of it. 
 
 ^. 255. Opinions of Dr. Cudworlh on the general subject of 
 
 internal knowled:^e. 
 
 We may properly introduce here a quotation or two 
 from another great authority, nearly contemporaneous with 
 Mr. Locke, that of Dr. Cudworth, a name which is ac- 
 knowledged to rank deservedly high among those, which 
 are most closely associated with exalted wisdom and vir- 
 tue. Let us however be again reminded, that our whole 
 object here is to establish the general position, that there 
 is knowledge of a purely internal, as well as of an exter- 
 nal oricrin ; and that, therefore, a reference to writers for 
 43 
 
3SS 
 
 INTERNAL OHIGIN 
 
 that purpose does not necessarily involve an approbation 
 of, or a responsibility for their opinions any farther than 
 
 they relate to the particular object in view. The post- 
 
 humous Avork, from which these extracts are made, is 
 understood to have been written in reply to Mr. Hobbes, 
 Avho held the opinion, that all our thoughts of whatever 
 kind are only either direct, or transformed and modified 
 sensations. And therefore the statements made in it, be- 
 ing called forth under such circumstances, must be suppo- 
 sed to liave been carefully meditated, and on that ground, 
 among others, are entitled to much weight. 
 
 "That oftentimes, says Cudworth,* there is more ta- 
 ken notice of and perceived by the mind, both in the sen- 
 sible objects themselves, and by occasion of them, than 
 was impressed from them, or passively received by sense; 
 which therefore must needs proceed from some inward 
 active principle in that which perceives, I shall make it 
 further appear by some other instances. 
 
 "For, first, let a brute and a man at the same time be 
 made spectators of one and the same artificial state, pic- 
 ture, or landskip ; here the brute will passively receive 
 all that is impressed from the outward object upon sense 
 by local motion, as well as the man, all the several colours 
 and figures of it ; and yet the man will presently perceive 
 something in this statue or picture, which the brute takes 
 no notice of at all, viz. beauty, and pulchritude, and sym- 
 metry, besides the liveliness of the effigies and pourtrait- 
 ure. The eye of the brute being every jot as good a glass 
 or mirror, and perhaps endued with a more perspicacious 
 sense or power of passive perception, than that of aman. 
 
 "Or again, let both a man and a brute at the same time 
 hear the same musical airs, the brute will only be sensible 
 of noise and sounds ; but the man will also perceive har- 
 mony in them, and be very much delighted with it ; nay, 
 even enthusiastically transported by it. Wherefore the. 
 brute perceiving all the sounds, as well as the man, but 
 nothing of the harmony, the difference must needs arise 
 
 ^hnmiitable Morality; Book IV, Chap. II. §. 14. 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 339 
 
 from some inward active principle or anticipation in the 
 man, which tlie brute hath not.'' 
 
 §. 253. Further remarks of the same writer on this subject. 
 
 " But I shall yet further illustrate this business, (says 
 this eloquent writer near the conclusion of the same chap- 
 ter,) that the mind may actively comprehend more in the 
 outward objects of sense, and by occasion of them, than 
 is passively received and impressed from them, by anoth- 
 er instance. Suppose a learned written or printejl volume 
 held before the eye of a brute-creature or illiterate per- 
 son ; either of them will passively receive all that is im- 
 pressed upon sense from those delineations ; to whom 
 there will be nothing but several scrawls or lines of ink 
 drawn upon white paper. But if a man, that hath inward 
 anticipations of learning in him, look upon them he will 
 immediately have another comprehension of them than 
 that of sense, and a strange scene of thoughts presently 
 represented to his mind from them ; he will see heaven, 
 earth, sun, moon and stars, comets, meteors, elements, in 
 those inky delineations ; he will read profound theorems 
 of philosophy, geometry, astronomy in them, learn a 
 great deal of new knowledge from them that he never un- 
 derstood before, and thereby justly admire the wisdom of 
 the composer of them. Not that all this was passively 
 stamped upon his soul by sense from those characters ; 
 (for sense, as I said before, can perceive nothing here but 
 inky scrawls and the intelligent reader Avill many times 
 correct, his copy, finding erratas in it ;) but because his 
 mind was before furnished with certain inward anticipa- 
 tions, that such characters signify the elements of certain 
 sounds, those sounds certain notions or cogitations of 
 the mind ; and because he hath an active power of exci- 
 ting any such cogitations within himself, he reads in those 
 sensible delineations, the passive stamps or prints of an- 
 other man's wisdom or knowledge upon them, and also 
 learns knowledge and instruction from them, not as infu- 
 sed into his mind from those sensible characters, but by 
 reason of those hints and significations thereby proposed 
 
340 INTERNAL ORIGIN 
 
 to it, accidentally kindled, awakenej:! and excited in it : 
 for all, but the phantasms of black inky strokes and fig- 
 ures, arises from the inward activity of his own mind. 
 Wherefore this instance in itself shews, how the activity of 
 the mind may comprehend more in and from sensible ob- 
 jects, than is passively imprinted by them upon sense." 
 
 §. 257. Knowledge begins in the senses, hut has internal 
 accessions. 
 
 In order to have a clear understanding of the particu- 
 lar topic before us, let us briefly advert to certain gener- 
 al views already more or less attended to, having a conec- 
 tion with it. In making the human soul a subject of in- 
 quiry, it is an obvious consideration, that a distinction 
 may be drawn between the soul contemplated in itself, 
 arid its acts, or states, or the knowledge which it possesses. 
 The inquiry, therefore naturally arises, Under what cir- 
 cumstances the acquisition of knowledge begins? 
 
 Now this is the very question, which has already been 
 considered ; nor can it be deemed necessary to repeat here 
 the considerations, which have been brought up in refer- 
 ence to it. It is enough to express our continued reliance 
 on the general experience and testimony of mankind, so 
 far as it is possible to ascertain them on a subject of so 
 much difficulty, that the beginnings of thought and feel- 
 ino" and knowledge are immediately subsequent to certain 
 affections of those bodily organs, which we call the sen- 
 ses. In other words, were it not for impressions on the 
 senses, which may be traced to objects external to them, 
 our mental capabilities, whatever they may be, would 
 have remained folded up in all probability, and have nev- 
 er been redeemed from a state of fruitless inaction. 
 
 Hence the process, which is implied in the perception 
 of external things, or what is commonly termed by Mr. 
 Locke sensation^ may justly be considered the occasion or 
 the introductory step to all our knowledge. But it does 
 not follov/ from this, nor is it by any means true, that the 
 whole amount of it in its ultimate progress is to be ascrib- 
 ed directly to the same source. All that can be said with 
 
OF KNOWLEDGE. 341 
 
 truth, is, that the mind receives the earliest parts of its 
 ideas by means of the senses, and that, in consequence of 
 having received these elementary thoughts, all its powers 
 become rapidly and fully operative. 
 
 And here we come to the second great source of 
 knowledge. The powers of the mind being thus fairly 
 brought into exercise, its various operations then furnish 
 us with another set of notions, which- by way of distin- 
 guishing them from those received through the direct me- 
 diation of the senses, may be called, in the language of Mr. 
 Locke, ideas of reflection, or, to use a phraseology em- 
 bracing all possible cases, ideas of internal origin. 
 
 These two sources of human thought the Internal and 
 External, however they may have been confounded by 
 the writers last alluded to, are entirely distinct. The 
 ideas, which arise in the mind, solely from the fact of the 
 previous existence of certain mental operations, could not 
 have been suggested by any thing, which takes place in 
 the external world, independently of those operations. 
 Of this class, some instances, with illustrations of the 
 same, may properly be mentioned here. 
 
 §. 258. Instances of notions^ which have an internal origin. 
 
 Among other notions, which are to be ascribed to the 
 second great source, are those, expressed by the terms, 
 thinking, doubting, believing, and certainty. — It is a mat- 
 ter of internal observation, (that is, of consciousness or of 
 reflection, which are synonymous with internal observa- 
 tion,) that the mind does not and cannot for any length of 
 time remain inactive. Hence there is occasion given for 
 the origin of that idea, which we denominate thinking. 
 The notion which we thus call, is framed by the mind 
 under these circumstances ; the name is given, and nobody 
 is ignorant as to what is meant. But then it is to be mark- 
 ed that its origin is wholly internal ; it is not an object of 
 touch, or taste, or sight ; it is to be ascribed to the mind 
 itself alone and to its inherent activity, unaided by the sen- 
 ses or by any thing operating upon them. 
 
 Again, in the examination of some topic, which is 
 
342 INTERNAL ORIGIN. 
 
 proposed for discussion, a proposition is stated with little 
 or no evidence attending it, and the mind, in reference to 
 that proposition, is brought into a position, to which we 
 give the name o( doubting. It is by no means easy, or rath- 
 er it is impossible, to trace this idea directly to the senses. 
 All we can say of it, is, that it has its origin within, and 
 necessarily exists immediately subsequent to certain other 
 mental states, of which we are conscious. 
 
 But then in this very instance, if the evidence be con- 
 siderably increased, the mental estimation, which we form, 
 is altered in regard it, and to this new state of the mind 
 we give the name of belief or believing. And in case the 
 evidence of the proposition is of a higher and more deci- 
 ded character, there then arises another state of the mind, 
 which we denominate certainty. 
 
 The ideas of virtue and vice, of justice and injustice, of 
 order, proportion, similitude, truth, wisdom, obligation, 
 succession, cause, effect, and many others, have a like ori- 
 gin ; at least there are none of them to be ascribed direct- 
 ly and exclusively to the senses. — It is cheerfully granted, 
 that, in determining this point, it is proper to refer to the 
 common experience of mankind, and to rely upon it. But 
 it is believed in all these instances, (certainly in the most 
 of them,) such a reference will be amply decisive. 
 
 Let it then be left to the candid internal examination of 
 each individual, to determine. Whether a distinction be 
 not rightly drawn between th^ origin of these ideas, and 
 that of those, which we attribute to the senses, such as 
 red, blue, sweet, fragrant, bitter, hard, extended, &c.? On 
 this question, it is thought, that in general there can be 
 but one answer, although some minds of superior order 
 have from time to time been betrayed into errour on this 
 subject through the* love of excessive simplification. 
 
 Hence it is distinctly to be kept in mind, that there are 
 two sources of thought and knowledffe. An affection of 
 the senses by means of external objects is the immediate 
 occasion of one portion ; the constitution of the mind and 
 its operations are the occasions or source of the other. 
 The one source is called External ; the other Internal, 
 
CHAPTER SECOND; 
 
 SUGGESTION. 
 
 §. 259. Import of the term suggestion and its application in 
 Reid and Stewart. 
 
 Some of the cases of thought and knowledge, which 
 the mind becomes possessed of in itself, with'out the di- 
 rect aid of the senses, are to be ascribed to Suggestion. 
 This word, in its application here, is used merely to ex- 
 press a simple, but important fact, viz, That the mind, by- 
 its own activity and vigour, gives rise to certain thoughts. 
 Without any mixture of hypothesis, or any qualifying in- 
 timation whatever, it gives the fact, and that is all. The 
 use of this word, as applicable to the origin of a portion 
 of human knowledge, is distinctly proposed by Dr. Reid. 
 In his Inquiry into the Human Mind, (Chap. ii. §. 7,) he 
 speaks of certain notions, (for instance, those of existence, 
 mind, person, &c,) as the "judgments of nature, judg- 
 ments not got by comparing ideas, and perceiving agree- 
 ments and disagreements, but immediately in spired by our 
 constitution." Pursuing this train of thought, he further 
 remarks ; "It is incumbent on those, who think that 
 these are not natural principles, [that is, notions called 
 forth within us, independently of reasoning,] to show 
 how we can otherwise get the notion of mind, and its 
 faculties. Again, immediately after, he ascribes those no- 
 tions, which cannot be attributed directly to the senses 
 
344 SUGGESTION. 
 
 on the one hand, nor to the reasoning power on the oth- 
 er, to an internal or mental suggestion as follows. — ^^^I 
 beg leave to make use of the word suggestion, because 
 I know not one more proper, to express a power of the 
 mind which seems entirely to have escaped the notice of 
 philosophers, and to which we owe many of our simple 
 notions which are neither impressions nor ideas, as well 
 as many original principles of belief. I shall endeavour 
 to illustrate, by an example, what I understand by this 
 word. We all know that a certain kind of sound suggests 
 immediately to the mind, a coach passing in the street ; 
 and not only produces the imagination, but the belief, 
 that a coach is passing. Yet there is here no comparing 
 of ideas no perception of agreements or disagreements, 
 to produce this belief : nor is there the least similitude be- 
 tween the sound we hear, and the coach we imagine and 
 believe to be passing. 
 
 "It is true that this suggestion is not natural and orig- 
 inal ; it is the result of experience and habit. But I think 
 it appears, from what hath been said, that there are natur- 
 al suggestions ; particularly, that sensation suggests the 
 notion of present existence, and the belief that what we 
 perceive or feel, does now exist ; that memory suggests 
 the^notion of past existence, and the belief that what we 
 remember did exist in time past ; and that our sensations 
 and thoughts do also suggest the notion of a mind, and 
 the belief of its existence, and of its relation to our thoughts. 
 By a like natural principle it is, that a beginning of exis- 
 tence, or any change in nature suggests to us the notion 
 of a cause, and compels our belief of its existence. And 
 in like manner, as shall be shown when we come to the 
 sense of touch, certain sensations of touch, by the consti- 
 tution of our nature, suggest to us extension, solidity, and 
 motion, which are nowise like to sensations, although they 
 
 have hitherto been confounded with tliem." We find 
 
 similar sentiments of this learned and cautious writer in 
 various other places. 
 
 Mr. Stewart also in his Philosophical Essays, speaks 
 pf certain mental phenomena, as attendant upon the obr 
 
SUGGESTION, 345 
 
 jects of our consciousness, and as suggested by them. 
 The notions of time, number, motion, memory, sameness, 
 personal identity, present existence, &c. he ascribes nei- 
 ther to the external world on the one hand, nor to the in- 
 ternal mental operations, of which we are conscious on 
 the other ; except so far as they are the occasions, on 
 which the mind brings them out, or suggests them from 
 its own inherent energy. Of the notion of duration for 
 instance, he would say, I do not see it, nor hear it, nor 
 feel it, nor become acquainted with it by means of any 
 other of the senses ; nor am I conscious of it, as I am of 
 beIieving,reasoning, and imagining, &c. but it is suggested 
 by the mind itself; it is an intimation absolutely essential 
 to the mind's nature and action. 
 
 It will be noticed that Dr. Reid has not limited the use 
 of the word suggestion, exclusively to those cases, which 
 are purely internal. Nor was this necessary. Those ca- 
 ses, however, where suggestion is brought into exercise by 
 occasions chiefly external, (as for instance, in forming the 
 notion of outness or externality,) are few in number, and 
 naturally and almost necessarily come up for considera- 
 tion in treating of the separate senses. As a general state- 
 ment, the occasions of its exercise are either wholly of an 
 interiour nature, or with only a slight mixture of outward 
 circumstances. 
 
 §. 260. Ideas of existence^ mind^ self -existence j and person- 
 al identity. 
 
 We shall now mention a few ideas, which have this 
 origin, without undertaking to give a complete enumera- 
 tion of them. 
 
 I- — Existence. Among the various notions, the ori- 
 gin of which naturally requires to be considered under 
 the head of Suggestion, is that of existence. What exis- 
 tence is in itself, (that is to say independently of any ex- 
 istent being,) it would be useless to inquire. Using the 
 word as expressive of a mental state, it is the name of a 
 purely simple idea, and cannot be defined. The history 
 of its rise is briefly this. Such is our nature, that we 
 *44 
 
346 SUGGESTION. 
 
 cannot exist, without having the notion of existence. Its 
 orio'in is inseDarable from the mere fact, that we have 
 thought, feeling, and judgment. 
 
 II, — Mind. The origin of the notion of mind is simi- 
 lar to that of existence. Neither of them can be strictly 
 and properly referred to the senses. We do not see the 
 mind, noris it an object of touch, nor of any other sense. 
 Nor, on the other hand, is the notion of mind a direct ob- 
 ject of the memory, or of reasoning,* or of imagination. 
 The notion arises naturally, or is suggested from the mere 
 fact, that the mind actually exists and is susceptible of 
 various feelings and operations. 
 
 Ill, — Similar remarks will apply to the notions, (wheth- 
 er we consider them as simple or complex,) of self-exis- 
 tence and PERSONAL identity. At the very earliest peri- 
 od tliey flow out, as it were, from the mind itself ; not re- 
 sulting from any prolonged and laborious process,but freely 
 and spontaneously suggested by it. This is so true, that 
 no one is able to designate either the precise time, cr the 
 precise circumstances, under which they originate ; for 
 they spring into being under all circumstances. We can- 
 not look, or touch, or breathe, or move, or think without 
 them. These are riches of our mental nature too essen- 
 tial and important to be withheld, or to be given only on 
 rare and doubtful occasions ; but are spread abroad in all 
 time and place, in all action and feeling. (See, in con- 
 nection with this section, §. §. 17, 18, 19.) 
 
 §. 261. Of the nature of unity and the origin of that notion. 
 
 Another important notion, properly entitled to a con- 
 sideration here, is that of unity. We shall decline at- 
 tempting to explain the nature of unity, for the simple 
 reason that nothing is more easy to be understood ; every 
 child knows what is meant by One. And how can we ex- 
 plain it, if we would ? We can explain a hundred by re- 
 solving it into its parts ; we can explain fifty or a score 
 by making alike separation of the whole number into the 
 subordinate portions,of which it is made up ; but when we 
 arrive at unity, we must stop, and can go no further. 
 
SUGGESTION, 347 
 
 It is true attempts have been made to define it, but 
 like many other such attempts, they have proved futile. 
 Unity has been called a thing indivisible in itself^ and divided 
 from every thing else. But this makes us no wiser. Is it 
 any thing more than to say, that the unity of an object is 
 its indivisibility ? Or in other words that its unity is its 
 unity ^ 
 
 As the idea of unity is one of the simplest, so it is one 
 of the earliest notions which men have. It originates in 
 the same Avay, and very nearly at the same time with the 
 notions of existence, self-existence, personal identity, and 
 the like. When a man has a notion of himself, he evident- 
 ly does not think of himself as two, three, or a dozen 
 men, but as one. As soon as he is able to think of himself 
 as distinct from his neighbour, as soon as he is in no dan- 
 ger of mingling and confounding his own identity with 
 that of the multitude around him, so soon does he form 
 the notion of unity. It exists as distinct in his mind, as 
 the idea of his own existence does ; and arises there im- 
 mediately successive to that idea, because it is impossible, 
 in the nature of things, that he should have a notion of 
 himself as a twofold or divided person. 
 
 Unity is the fundamental element of all enumeration. 
 By the repetition or adding of this element, we are able to 
 form numbers to any extent. These numbers may be com- 
 bined among themselves, and employed merely as expres- 
 sive of mutual relation ; or we may apply them, if we 
 choose, to all external objects whatever, to which we 
 are able to give a common name. — ^(See §. 2SS.). 
 
 §. 262. JVature of succession^ and origin of the idea of 
 succession. 
 
 Another of those conceptions, which naturally offer 
 themselves to our notice here, is that of succession. This 
 term, (when we inquire what succession is in itself,) is 
 one of general application, expressive of a mode of exis- 
 tence rather than of existence itself ; and in its applica- 
 tion to mind in particular, expressive of a condition of 
 the mind's action, but not of the action itself, which that 
 
^48 SUGGESTION. 
 
 condition regulates. It is certainly a fact too well known 
 to require comment, that our minds exist at different pe- 
 riods in successive states ; that our tlioughts and feelings, 
 in obedience to a permanent law, follow each other in a 
 train. This is the simple fact. And the fact of such suc- 
 cession, whenever it takes place, forms the occasion, on 
 which the notion or idea of succession is suggested to the 
 mind. Being a simple mental state, it is not susceptible 
 of definition ; yet every man possesses it, and every one is 
 rightly supposed to understand its nature. 
 
 Accordingly it is not necessary to refer the origin of 
 this idea to any thing external.' It is certain, that the 
 sense of smell cannot directly give us the idea of succes- 
 sion, nor the sense of taste, nor of touch. And we well 
 know, that the deaf and dumb possess it, not less than 
 others. The blind also, who have never seen the face of 
 heaven, nor beiield that sun and moon, which meas- 
 ure out for us days and months and years, have 
 the notion of succession. They feel, they think, they 
 I'eason, at least in some small degree, like other men ; and 
 it is impossible, that they should be without it. The ori- 
 gin, therefore, of this notion is within ; it is the unfailing 
 result of the inward operation to call it forth, however 
 true it may be that it is subsequently applied to outward 
 objects and events. 
 
 * §.263. Origin of the notion of duration. 
 
 There is usually understood to be a distinction be- 
 tween th^ idea of succession, and that of duration, though 
 neither can be defined. The idea of succession is suppo- 
 sed to be antecedent in point of time to that of duration ; 
 (we speak now of succession and duration relatively to 
 our conception of them, and not in themselves considered. ) 
 Duration must be supposed to exist antecedently to succes- 
 sion in the order of nature ; but succession is the form, in 
 which it is made to apply to men ; and is, therefore, nat- 
 urally the occasion, on which the idea of it arises in men's 
 minds. Having the notion of succession, and that of per- 
 sonal or self-existence, a foundation is laid for the addi- 
 
SUGGESTION. 349 
 
 tional conception of permanency or duration ; in other 
 words, it naturally arises in the mind, or is suggested, un- 
 der these circumstances. 
 
 As we cannot, according to this view of its origin, have 
 the notion of duration .without succession, hence it hap- 
 pens, that we know nothing of duration when we 
 are perfectly asleep, because we are not then conscious 
 of those intellectual changes which are involved in 
 succession. If a person could sleep with a perfect sus- 
 pension of all his mental operations from this time un- 
 til the resurrection, the whole of that period would 
 appear to him as nothing. Ten thousand years passed un- 
 der such circumstances would be less than a few days or 
 even hours. 
 
 That the notion of succession is antecedent to, and is 
 essential to that of duration, is in some measure proved 
 by various facts. There is for example, in the Proceed- 
 ings of the French Royal Academy of Sciences in 1719, a 
 statement to the following effect. There was in Lau- 
 sanne a nobleman, who, as he was giving orders to a ser- 
 vant, suddenly lost his speech and all his senses. Differ- 
 ent remedies were tried, but for a very considerable time 
 without effect. For six months he appeared to be in a 
 deep sleep, unconscious of every thing. At the.end of 
 that period, however, resort having been had to certain 
 surgical operations, he was suddenly restored to his 
 '%peech, and the exercise of his understanding. When he 
 recovered, the servant, to whom he had been giving or- 
 ders, happening to be in the room, he asked him if he had 
 done what he had ordered him to, not being sensible, that 
 any interval, except perhaps a very short one, had elap- 
 sed during his illness."^ 
 
 §. 264. Of time and its measurements J and of eternity. 
 
 When duration is estimated or measured, we then call 
 it Time. Such measurements, as every one is aware, are 
 made by means of certain natural, or artificial motions. 
 
 *The Academy received this statement from Crousaz, Mathemati- 
 cal Professor at Lausanne, and author of a Treatise on Logic, &c. 
 
350 SUGGESTION. 
 
 The annual revolution of the sun marks off the portion of 
 duration, which we call a year ; the revolution of the 
 moon marks off another portion, which we call a month ; 
 the diurnal revolution of the sun gives us the period of a 
 DAY ; the movements of the hands over the face of a 
 clock or watch give the diminished durations of hours and 
 minutes. This is time, which differs from duration, only 
 in the circumstance of its being measured. 
 
 What we call Eternity is only a modified or imperfect 
 time, or rather time not completed. We look back over 
 the months and days and years of our former existence ; 
 we look forward and onward, and behold ages crowding 
 on ages, and time springing from time. And in this way 
 we are forcibly led to think of time unfinished, of time 
 progressive but never completed ; and to this complex 
 notion we give the name of Eternity. 
 
 §. 265. Marks or characteristics of time. 
 
 To this notice of the origin of the notion of time, it will 
 not be improper to add, as it is one of great importance, 
 some of its marks or characteristics. 
 
 I, — Time, (meaning by the term duration as existing 
 in succession, and as susceptible of being measured,) is 
 strictly and properly predicable only of finite beings, and 
 not of the Supreme Being. It is evident, that, in its ap- 
 plication to the human mind, time becomes a law or fixed 
 condition of the mental action, a restriction placed upon 
 it, a sort of veil, which would hide knowledge from us, 
 were it not that it is drawn up gradually, and lets it in by 
 degrees. But it is equally evident there can be no law of 
 this nature restricting the Divine Mind. Those multiplied 
 facts and events, which are brought one after another be- 
 fore the minds of men, in consequence of their limited 
 mental constitution, are spread out at once before the Di- 
 vine Mind, as on a map. Whether past, present, or future, 
 they are embraced and comprehended in a single glance. 
 In this respect there is not the slightest analogy between 
 the Supreme Mind, and the hiinds of men. 
 
 II, — Time is not susceptible of any visible or outward 
 
SUGGESTION. 351 
 
 representation, as might be expected, if its origin had 
 been external instead of internal. It is true, we apply lan- 
 guage to time, which would imply, if strictly interpreted, 
 that it has extension or length. We speak of a long, or short 
 time, &c. But this is owing partly to certain casual asso- 
 ciations, and partly to the imperfection of language, and 
 not to any thing in the nature of time itself. 
 
 Ill, — Time, as it exists in our mental apprehension and 
 in its relation to the intellect, is inseparable from events. 
 Whatever event has taken place, whether it be the desola- 
 tion of a province by an earthquake, or the fighting of a 
 battle, or the forming of a political constitution, or v/hat- 
 ever else, although we are ignorant of the hour, the day, 
 or the month, we cannot possibly conceive of them, inde- 
 pendently of time. This is a fixed, immutable, and ulti- 
 mate condition of all^our perceptions, so far as they regard 
 events. 
 
 IV, — Time, in its specific and appropriate nature, is in- 
 destructible, while the human soul remains the same it 
 now does. It is not within the limits of human capa- 
 bility to contemplate events as the Supreme Being does, 
 at once and simultaneously ; but it can be done in succes- 
 sion alone ; nor have we reason to suppose that it will ev- 
 er be otherwise. It is true, the Angel shall at last appear, 
 standing on the land and the sea, and shall swear, that 
 time shall be no longer ; yet the time, which the angel of 
 the Apocalypse is destined thus to abolish, is only that, 
 which is measured by these stars, this moon, and the rev- 
 olutions of this earth. As long as the human soul exists, 
 in whatever part of the universe, there must at least be, not 
 only duration, but duration as existing in succession, un- 
 less the nature of the soul be fundamentally changed. 
 
 §. 266. The idea of space not of external origin. 
 
 Another of those notions, the origin of which we pro- 
 pose to consider under the head of Suggestion, is the idea 
 of SPACE. Perhaps it will be asked, why Vv^e have dis- 
 regarded in this instance the authority and example of 
 Mr. Locke, w^ho has ranked it with the notions of Exter- 
 
352 SUGGESTION. 
 
 nal origin, or in his own phraseology, with those which 
 come into the mind by the way of sensation. And cer- 
 tainly it might be expected, that we should assent to that 
 ancient arrangement, if it could be definitely shown to us, 
 which of the senses it is to be ascribed to. But it is obvi- 
 ous, that this cannot easily be done. 
 
 If it were of external origin, if it could properly be said 
 to come into the mind by the way of sensation, we should 
 be able to make such a reference of it. But let us inquire. 
 It will evidently not be pretended, that the notion of 
 space is to be ascribed to the senses of taste, of smell, or 
 of hearing. And can it be ascribed to the sense of touch? 
 Is it a matter of feeling ? A single consideration will sug- 
 gest a satisfactory answer. It will certainly be acknowl- 
 edged that we can have no knowledge by the sense of 
 touch, (with the single exception perhaps of the ideas of 
 heat and cold, which are sometimes ascribed to it,) of any 
 thing which does not present some resistance. The de- 
 gree of resistance may greatly vary, but there will be al- 
 ways some. But no one will undertake to say, that resis- 
 tance is a quality of space, or enters in any way into his 
 notion of it- 
 
 Nor are there less obvious objections to regarding it 
 as a direct object of sight. The sense of sight gives us 
 no direct knowledge of any thing but of colours ; all oth- 
 er visual perceptions are original in the sense of touch, and 
 aj'e made the property of the sight by transference. No 
 one certainly ever speaks of space as red, or white, or of 
 any other colour, or conceives of it as such. 
 
 There is another consideration, adverse to ascribing the 
 idea of space to the senses, applicable equally to the sight 
 and the touch. Every thing coming within the cognizance 
 of those two senses, (with the exception already alluded 
 to,) has form, limits, bounds, place, &c. But the 'idea, to 
 which we are now attending, is utterly exclusive of every 
 thing of this nature ; it is not susceptible of circumscrip- 
 tion and figure. So far from it, when we escape beyond 
 the succession of circumscribed and insulated objects, we 
 have but just entered within its empire. If we let the 
 
SUGGESTION. S53 
 
 mind range forth beyond the forms immediately surround- 
 ino- us, beyond the world itself, beyond all the systems of 
 worlds in the universe ; if we stand in our conception on 
 the verge of the remotest star and look downward and 
 upward ; it is then the idea of space rushes upon the mind 
 
 with a power before unknown. These considerations 
 
 clearly lead to the conclusion, that the notion of space is 
 not susceptible of being ascribed directly to sensation in 
 any of its forms, and is not, in the proper sense of the 
 terms, of external origin. It may perhaps be maintained, 
 that we shal! find an adequate account of its origin, if we 
 combine the aid of abstraction with sensation. It is ad- 
 mitted, that by the sense of touch we have a knowledge of 
 the extension of bodies, which includes, when it is con- 
 templated under difFereot views, length, breadth, height 
 &c. But still it does not appear, liov/ abstraction, applied 
 to extension, or any thing included in extension, can give 
 us space. It is evident, that the abstract notion, which 
 we form of the length of a body, is different from the 
 one in question. And if we abstract height or breadth, 
 these also come short of giving us space. If we could ab- 
 stract height, length, and breadth at once, and then com- 
 bine them together, we should not- even then have space, 
 but on the contrary a solid body. 
 
 §. 267. The idea of space has its crighi in suggestion. 
 
 What then shall we say of the origin of the notion of 
 space ? When pressed on this point, we have but one ans- 
 wer to give ; it is the natural offspring of the mind ; it is 
 a creation of the soul, v^^holly inseparable from its elemen- 
 tary constitution and action ; an intimation, coming from 
 an interiour and original impulse. Tiie opinion of Cou- 
 sin, (not to mention that of others of like import,) close- 
 ly approximates to this statement. 
 
 After criticising upon Locke, as Mr. Stewart had 
 done before him, and asserting the futility of pretending 
 to derive this notion directly from the senses, he adds 
 45 
 
354 SUGGESTION. 
 
 as follows ; "t^w contraire, Videe d'' espace ncus est donnee^ d 
 V occasion de V idee de corps, par la pensee^ Ventendement^ V es- 
 prit ^ la raison, enfin par une puissance autre que la sensation.^''* 
 
 It remains to be aclded, that, while we cannot directly 
 refer the notion in question to the senses, we cannot even 
 state with certainty any particular occasion on which it 
 arises, for w^e have the notion at a period further back 
 than we can remember. On this point, however, it is un- 
 doubtedly true, that w^e may advance opinions more or 
 less probable. It is, for instance, a supposition not alto- 
 gether w^orthless, that motion may have been the original 
 occasion of the rise of this idea. At an early period we 
 moved the hand, either to grasp something removed at a 
 little distance, or in the mere playful exercise of the mus- 
 cles, or perhaps we transferred the whole body from one 
 position to another ; and it is at least no impossibility, 
 that on such an occasion the idea of space may have been 
 called forth in the soul. 
 
 But there is another supposition, still more entitled to 
 notice, the one referred to in the above quotation from 
 Cousin. Our acquaintance with external bodies,by means of 
 the senses, may have been the occasion of its rise, although 
 the senses themselves are not its direct source. It is cer- 
 tain, that we cannot contemplate any body whatever, an 
 apple, a rose, a tree, a house, without always finding the 
 idea of space a ready and necessary concomitant. We 
 cannot conceive of a body, which is no where. So that 
 we may at least date the origin of the idea of space as 
 early as our acquaintance with any external body what- 
 ever. In other words it is a gift of the mind, made sim- 
 ultaneously with its earliest external perceptions. 
 
 §.268. Characteristicmarksof the notion of space. 
 
 What has been said has prepared the way for the bet- 
 ter understanding of the characteristic marks of space, as 
 it exists in the mind's view of it. Of these marks there 
 are four, wrhich will help to distinguish it. 
 
 *L'Histoire de la Philosophie, Tome 11, Dix-septieme Legnn. 
 
SUGGESTION. 355 
 
 I, — Like duration or time, space is not capable of 
 being visibly represented. The. remarks, wlii^h have al- 
 ready been madsj clearly evince this. Nothing can be 
 visibly represented, which does not come within the di- 
 rect range and cognizance of the senses, as space does not. 
 
 II, — It has no form nor limits. This miglit perhaps 
 be considered as naturallv resultinor from the character- 
 Stic first mentioned. And besides we may safely appeal 
 here to general experience, and assert without hesitation, 
 that no man limits space in his conception of it, nor is it 
 even in his power so to do. 
 
 Ill, — It is absolute and necessary. We speak of a thing 
 as absolute, which is not dependent on another, and is un- 
 alterable. This is not the case with any thing whatever, 
 which we become acquainted uith by means of the direct 
 agency of the senses. All such bodies are constantly 
 changing, and there is no difficulty in the supposition, that 
 they may all be struck out of existence. But it is impos- 
 sible for us to associate the idea of non-existence with 
 space. It is unalterably the same. But there is evidently 
 nothing unalterable, which is not naturally and necessarily 
 so. It is on this ground therefore, that we assign to space 
 the characteristic of being absolute and necessary. 
 
 IV, — A fourth characteristic is, that it is the condition 
 of the existence of all bodies; that is to say, it is impossible 
 for us to conceive of a body without associating the notion 
 of space with it. We are so constituted, that what we 
 understand by space is utterly inseparable from eX'^ery 
 thing outward, which has outlines and form. So that we 
 may truly say of space, that it is the condition of the ex- 
 istence of all bodies, at least relatively to ourselves. And 
 hence, as it is internally conceived of, it becomes a great 
 law of the mind, modifying and limiting all its outward 
 perceptions. (See §. §. 57, 8.) 
 
 §. 269. Of the origin of the idea of power. 
 
 Under the head of Suggestion the idea of power prop- 
 perlybelongs. Every man has this notion; every one feels 
 
S56 SUGGESTION. 
 
 too, that there is a corresponding reality ; and we may 
 undoubtedly add, that every one knows, although there 
 is a great original fountain of power, that he has a portion 
 of it in his own bosom, and in his own arm. There is a 
 vast unseen power, which has reared the mountains, which 
 rolls the ocean, which propels the sun in his course, and 
 holds the stars in their orbits; but man too has power in the 
 humble sphere, which Providence has allotted him ; and 
 is not left desolate. This is a simple statement of the fact. 
 Power goes hand in hand with existence, intelligence, and 
 accountability, and they are alike scattered through the 
 Universe. 
 
 But the question here is, not what power is in 
 itself, nor whether man possesses power in fact, but how 
 the notion of power arises in the human mind ? Before 
 answering this question, the reuiark is to be made, that 
 power is an attribute of mind and not of matter. Mat- 
 ter may be the medium, through which the operations of 
 power are exhibitedVbut it has no power in itself. Hence 
 we are led to observe, that thenotion of power originates, 
 in the first instance, in mind, and not in what we see in 
 matter. 
 
 Perh^)s this remark may be liable to misapprehen- 
 sion ; and, therefore, it seems necessary to offer some ex- 
 planation. The mind, having power, exercises it in rea- 
 soning, consulting, forming plans for the future, &c ; and 
 particularly in the putting forth of volition. We will to lift 
 ahand or foot, and the result immediately follows; we will to 
 go from one place to another, and we immediately put our 
 determination into execution ; we will to complete some 
 projected undertaking, and the deed is consequent on the 
 volition. x\nd we behold in others what we experience 
 in ourselves. Paul said to the impotent man of Lystra, 
 Stand upright on thy feet, and he leaped and walked. 
 The Savior said, Lazarus, come forth, and he arose from 
 the dead. In the beginning the world was in darkness ; 
 God said, Let there be ligfit, and light was. 
 
SUGGESTION. 357 
 
 On such occasions we may suppose, that the idea of 
 power arises in the mind. It is suggested by the mind 
 itself ; and such is our mental nature, that it cannot be 
 otherwise. 
 
 But we are perhaps called upon to give a definition or 
 verbal explanation of the notion of power. The reply is, 
 that the idea, which the mind forms of it, is a simple and 
 uncompounded one. It can be resolved into no subordi- 
 nate elements, and therefore stands on the same footing 
 with our other .simple notions. It would be as unavailing 
 to attempt to explain it by a mere combination of v/ords, 
 as it would to give a verbal definition of the simple sensa- 
 tions of taste, of hearing, and of sight. 
 
 §. 2T0. JSTotion of an criginal or first antecedent. 
 
 The only other notion we shall mention under the 
 present head, is that of original antecedence. It will per- 
 haps be said, that this notion arises by experience ; but 
 experience properly concerns only the circumstances, 
 which lead to it and under which it arises, and not the 
 mental cause itself. Let us, for example, suppose a person 
 entirely separated from the reskof the world, dwelling in 
 some distant island, with no means of mental culture but 
 su^h as nature herself affords, furnished, as it were, only 
 with the senses, and with the variety of objects around 
 him, fitted to operate upon them. As he walks abroad in 
 his insulated domain, he finds its shores worn away, and 
 he ^t once discovers the antecedent in the motion of the 
 ocean's waves against it. He beholds the prostration of 
 the neighbouring forest, and he detects the antecedent in 
 the- strong arm of the whirlwind. He sees the grass 
 grow, and the trees put forth their buds and leaves, and 
 the flowers open, and he finds the forerunner of these de- 
 lightful effects in the warmth and the shov/ers of the sum- 
 mer. But his mind is not satisfied with this ; he asks, or 
 rather his nature within liim asks. Who guided the ocean? 
 VVho gave strength to the whirlwind ? And thus the 
 mind will inevitably go on from events to their precur- 
 sors, from antecedent to antecedent. 
 
353 SUGGESTION. 
 
 No man stops short of this. What would be the thoughts 
 of our supposed solitary islander, will be found to be the 
 thoughts of all. We ourselves, as well as others, behold 
 the world covered with brightness ; but, instead of sitting 
 supinely and ignorantly in its beams," we never fail to look 
 for the forerunner, and we find it in the luminaries of the 
 sun and moon, and in tiiose smaller fountains of effulgence, 
 which are opened in various parts of the visible heavens. 
 And then we imagine ourselves standing in the midst of 
 one of those orbs, and the inquiry again arises, Who sup- 
 plies these fountains ? Where is the antecedent power, 
 that kindled up these piles of heavenly radiance ^ — The 
 mind itself, therefore, suggests the notion of something 
 which goes before, of an antecedent, under every combi- 
 nation of circumstances ; and not only believes, that there 
 must have been such, but seeks for it. The event, the 
 fact, whatever takes place in nature, calls for its 'antece- 
 dent, as "deep calls unto deep." It is a voice, if we may 
 again be permitted in a Scriptural allusion, which is 
 " gone out through all the earth, and its words to the 
 end of the world." But there is a time when the cry is 
 silent ; a limit, beyond whkji the inquiry cannot be push- 
 ed ; and we must at length stop at an original and neces- 
 sary antecedent, with which all succession begins, and on 
 which all events are dependent. 
 
 Hence we say, that the notion of original antecedence, 
 in particular, is a matter of suggestion. It does not have 
 its origin in the senses. It evidently does not come with- 
 in the range of consciousness, because it is something, 
 which, from its very nature, we are not, and cannot be 
 conscious of. It is not the result of relative suggestion 
 since there is nothing compared together ; the mind has 
 arrived at a point where it can go no further, and as 
 there are no objects of comparison, there are of course 
 no feelings of relation. And furthermore it is not the re- 
 sult of reasoning, since there is evidently no reasoning ap- 
 plicable to it, which does not take for granted, that there 
 is^no beginning nor change of existence without a cause. 
 
SUGGESTION. 359 
 
 That there must be an original antecedent (when combi- 
 ned with the notion of power, the^great first cause of all 
 things,) without which subsequent effects and events could 
 not have taken place, must undoubtedly be assumed ; for 
 the* chain of reasoning, although it may go on from an- 
 tecedent to antecedent, from cause to cause, must stop 
 somewhere ; evidently no human strength can carry it up- 
 ward to that, which is infinitely removed ; but that myste- 
 rious first cause must condescend to come down and meet 
 it. And it has come. Reasoning does not frame this notion; 
 nevertheless it exists, and with no small degree of dis- 
 tinctness and strength, being necessarily called forth in 
 the soul by means of that primitive or original suggestion, 
 which we have been considering. We shall pur- 
 sue, in this place, this particular source of our knowl- 
 edge no further. But in leaving it, we would not be un- 
 derstood to intimate, that the notions of existence, mind, 
 self-existence, personal identy, unity, succession, dura- 
 tion, time, space, power, and original antecedence are 
 all, which suggestion furnishes. No doubt, on a careful 
 examination, various others may be found. 
 
CHAPTER THIRD. 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 §. 271. Consciousness the second source of internal knoicIecJge ; 
 its nature. 
 
 The second source of that knowledge, which, in 
 distinction from sensations and external perceptions, is 
 denominated Internal, is consciousness. So numerous are 
 the ideas from this source, constantly forcing themselves on 
 our attention and modifying the whole mental action,that it 
 was considered justly entitled to be ranked among the laws 
 of belief. Although that was a view of consciousness, alto- 
 gether different from what we propose to take at present, 
 we found occasion at that time to remark particularly on 
 its nature. Nor is it necessary in that respect, to do more 
 than repeat essentially what has already been said. Con- 
 sciousness is a term, appropriated to express objects, which 
 belong to the mind itself, and which do not, and cannot ex- 
 ist independently of some mind. Imagining and reason- 
 ing are terms, expressive of real objects of thought ; but 
 evidently they cannot be supposed to exist, independently 
 of some mind, which imagines and reasons. Hence, in the 
 chapter just referred to, (§.69,) consciousness was des- 
 cribed as embracing in itself the three following distinct 
 notions at least; viz., (1) the idea of self or of personal 
 existence, expressed in English by the words self, myself, 
 and the personal pronoun I ; (2) some quality, state, or 
 
CONSCIOUSNESS. 361 
 
 operation of the mind, whatever it may be ; and (3) a rel- 
 ative perception of possession, appropriation, or belonging 
 to. For instance, a person says, I am conscious of love, 
 OR OF ANGER, OR OF PENITENCE. Herc the Idea of SELF or 
 of personal existence is expressed by the pronoun I; there is a 
 diiferent mental state and expressed by its appropriate term, 
 that of the affection ofANGERj&c; the phrase, conscious of, 
 expresses the feeling of relation, which instantaneously and 
 necessarily recognizes the passion of anger as the attribute 
 or property of the subject of the proposition. And in this 
 case, as in all others where we apply the term under con- 
 sideration, consciousness does not properly fextend to any 
 thing, which has an existence, extraneous to tiie con- 
 scious subject or soul itself. 
 
 §. 212. Objections to Locke'' s Essaij concerning Human 
 
 Understanding. 
 
 It is proper to remark here, that the term reflection, 
 as used by Mr. Locke in his book on Human Understanding, 
 has been generally understood, (v/hether justly or not,) as 
 synonymous with Consciousness, as here explained. That 
 writer held, as is well known, that the origin of human 
 knowledge is two-fold, External and Internal ; attribu- 
 ting all external knowledge to sensation, and all internal 
 knowledge to reflection. Supposing therefore, that he 
 meant by the term reflection, what is meant at the pres- 
 ent day by consciousness, his commentators and critics 
 have found a difficulty in explaining the origin of those 
 notions among others, which were ascribed in the last 
 chapter to suggestion. Writers, who are in general pro- 
 fessed followers of Mr. Locke, and of whose candour it 
 would be highly uncharitable to doubt, appear to agree in 
 opinion, that his valuable Essay is defective in this respect. 
 And it can hardly be doubted, that this is a point, in which 
 it is chiefly assailable, viz, in maintaining the doctrine, 
 that all our internal knowledge is from reflection, under- 
 standing the term as synonymous with consciousness. • A 
 few quotations will help .to shqw the opinions of res- 
 pectable writers on this subject. 
 
 Dr. Reid, in his Third Es^av o;: lii :::tLilL;,:L;.J Fow- 
 46 
 
162 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 ers, has this passage. ''Mr. Locke says,that by reflection he 
 would be understood to mean the notice ^widch the mind takes of 
 its operations and of the raanner of them. This,I think, we com- 
 monly call Consciousness; from whicli indeed we derive all 
 the notions we have of the operations of our own minds; and 
 lie often speaks of the operations of our own minds, as the 
 only objects of reflection. — When reflection is taken in this 
 confined sense, to say, that all our ideas are ideas either of 
 sensation or reflection, is to say that every thing we can 
 conceive is either some object of sense or some operation 
 of our own minds, which is far from being true." 
 
 Dr. Price, in his Review of the Principal Questions and 
 Difficulties in Morals, remarks as follows. '■' Sensation and 
 reflection have been commonly reckoned the sources of all 
 our ideas ; and Mr. Locke has taken no small pains to 
 prove this. How much soever, on the whole, I admire 
 his excellent Essay, I cannot think him sufficiently clear or 
 explicit on this head. It is hard to determine exactly what 
 he meant by sensation and reflection. If by the former we 
 understand the effects arising from impressions made on 
 our minds by external objects, andby the latter, f/ieno/icef/ie 
 mind takes of its own operations ; it will be impossible to de- 
 rive some of the most important of our ideas from them.'' 
 
 §. 273. Opinions oj Mr. Stewart on this subject. 
 
 Mr. Stewart in the course of the First of his Philosoph- 
 ical Essays, which is entitled. On Locke's account of 
 
 THE SOURCES OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE, shoWS at SOmC length, 
 
 that we cannot explain the origin of the notions of self, of 
 personal identity, causation, time, number, &c.,on the doc- 
 trine of Mr. Locke, as it is generally understood ; and that 
 they must be regarded as necessarily arising in the human 
 understanding in the exercise of its different faculties. 
 Speaking on the subject of Mr. Locke's plan in his Ele- 
 ments of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, (Chap. I ; §, 
 4,) he remarks as follows, " These two sources, according 
 to him, furnish us with all our simple ideas, and the only 
 power which the mind possesses over them, is to perform 
 certain operations, in the way of composition, abstraction, 
 
CONSCIOUSNESS. 363 
 
 generalization, &c. on the materials, wlilcli it thus collects 
 in the (fturse of its experience. The laudable desire of 
 Mr. Locke, to introduce precision and perspicuity into 
 metaphysical speculations, and his anxiety to guard against 
 errour in general, naturally prepossessed him in favour of 
 a doctrine, which, when compared with those of his prede- 
 cessors, was intelligible and simple, andwiiich by suggest- 
 ing a metliod, apparently easy and palpable, of analyzing 
 our knowledge into its elementary principles, seemed to 
 furnish an antidote against those prejudices, which had 
 been favored by the hypothesis of innate ideas. It is now a 
 considerable time since this fundamental principle of Mr. 
 Locke's system began to lose its authority in England." 
 
 In these passages, (and others of a like purport migiit 
 easily be brought together, if it were deemed necessary,) 
 we see more fully the reason, why it was thought requisite 
 to assign some of those elementary ideas, which come un- 
 der the general head of Internal Origin, to suggestion. 
 They evidently cannot be assigned to consciousness, with- 
 out introducing perplexity and confusion into this latter 
 subject. But having attended to those notions, (compara- 
 tively few in number but very important,) which are fur- 
 nished us by an original or primitive intimation of our na- 
 ture, CONSCIOUSNESS, Considered as a new and distinct 
 source of internal knowledge, naturally has the next claim 
 on our notice. It is on these grounds, that the subject oc- 
 cupies its present place. 
 
 <^. 274. Instancesof notions originating from consciousness. 
 
 It would be no easy task to point out the numerous no- 
 tions, coming within the range and cognizance of con- 
 sciousness ; nor is there any special reason, why this should 
 be attempted. A few instances will suffice to show, how 
 fruitful a source of experience and of knowledge this is. 
 
 I, — All the forms and shades of belief are matters of con- 
 sciousness. We are so constituted, that the mind necesga- 
 rily yields its assent, in a greater or less degree, when evi- 
 dence is presented. These degrees of assent are exceeding- 
 ly various and multiplied, although only a few of them 
 
f 
 364 . CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 are expressed by select and appropriate names ; nor does 
 it appear to be necessary for the ends of society, or 
 for any other purpose, that it should be otherwise. Some 
 of them are as follows ; doubting, assenting, presumption, 
 believing, probability, high probability, certainty, &c. 
 
 11, — The names of all intellectual powers and operations 
 are expressive of the subjects of our consciousness. A- 
 mong others, the terms, thinking, attending, remembering, 
 comparing, judging, abstracting, reasoning, imagining, &c. 
 
 Ill, — Consciousness includes likewise all our emotions, 
 ^every thing coming within the range of the sentient part 
 of our nature,) as the emotions of the beautiful, the grand, 
 the sublime, the ludicrous ; the feelings of pleasure and 
 pain, of desire and aversion ; of hope and joy, of despon- 
 dency and sadness, and a multitude of others. 
 
 IV, — Here also originates our acquaintance with the 
 complex emotions or passions. A man bestows a benefit 
 upon us, and we are conscious of a new complex feeling, 
 which we call gratitude. Another person does us an injury, 
 and we are conscious of another and distinct feeling, which 
 we call ANGER. In other words, we feel, we know, that 
 the passion exists, and that it belongs to ourselves ; and it 
 is the same of distrust, jealousy, peevishness, hatred, re- 
 venge, friendship, sympathy, love, &c. 
 
 V; — All the moral and religious emotions and affections 
 belong here ; such as approval, disapproval, remorse, 
 humility, repentance, religious faith, forgiveness, benevo- 
 lence, the sense of dependence, adoration. When we 
 
 consider, that the mind is constantly in action, that, in all 
 our intercourse with our fellow-beings, friends, family, 
 countrymen, and enemies, new and exceedingly diversi- 
 fied feelings are called forth, that every new scene in na- 
 ture, and every new combination of events have their ap- 
 propriate results in the mind, it will be readily conjectured, 
 that this enumeration might be carried to a much greater 
 extent. What has been said will serve to indicate some of 
 the prominent sources for self-inquiry on this subject. 
 
CHAPTER FOURTH. 
 
 RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 
 
 §. S75. Of the susceptibility of perceiving or feeling rela- 
 tions. 
 
 It is not inconsistent with the usage of our language to 
 say, that the mind brings its thoughts together, and pla- 
 ces them side by side, and compares' them. Such are 
 nearly the expressions of Mr. Locke, who speaks of the 
 mind's bringing one thing to and'setting it by another, and 
 carrying its view from one to the other. And such is the 
 imperfect nature of all arbitrary signs,that this phraseology 
 will probably continue to be employed, although without 
 some attention it will be likely to lead into errour. Such 
 expressions are evidently of material origin, and cannot 
 be rightly interpreted without taking that circumstance 
 into consideration. When it is said that our thoughts are 
 brought together, that they are placed side by side and 
 the like, probably nothing more can be meant than this, 
 that they are immediately successiveto each other. And 
 when it is further said, that we compare them, the mean- 
 ing is, that we perceive or feel their relation to each other 
 in certain respects. 
 
 The mind, therefore,'has an original susceptibility or 
 power, answering to ^this result; which is sometimes 
 known as its power of relative suggestion, and at other 
 times, the same thing is expressed by the term judgment, 
 
366 RELxlTIVE SUGGESTION. 
 
 although the latter term is not limited in its use to the ex- 
 pression of this feeling.^ We arrive here, therefore, at 
 
 an ultimate fact in our mental nature. The human intel- 
 lect is so constituted, that, when it perceives different ob- 
 jects together, or has immediately successive conceptions 
 of any absentfobjects of perception, their mutual relations 
 are immediately felt by it. It considers them as equal or 
 unequal, like or unlike, as having the same or diiferent 
 causes or ends, and in various other respects. 
 
 §. 27G. Occasions on which feelings of relation may arise. 
 
 The occasions, on which feelings of relation may arise, 
 are almost innumerable. It would certainly be no easv 
 task to specify them all. Any of the ideas, which the 
 mind is able to frame, may either directly or indirectly, 
 lay the foundation of other ideas of relation, since they 
 may in general be compared together ; or if they cannot 
 themselves be readily placed side by side,' may be made 
 the means of bringing others into comparison. But those 
 ideas, which are of an external origin, are representative 
 of objects and their qualities ; and hence we may speak of 
 the relations of things no less, than of the relations of 
 thought. And such relations are every where discover- 
 able. 
 
 We behold the flowers of the field, and one is fairer 
 than another ; we hear many voices, and one is louder or 
 softer than another ; we taste the fruits of the earth, and 
 one flavour is more pleasant than another. But these dif- 
 
 * The word judgment is sometimes used as expressive of the re- 
 sult of a train of reasoning, and as synonymous with conclusion or 
 opinion. But not unfrequently it is employed with a more restricted 
 import, and as synonymous with relative suggestion. The following 
 
 passage of Brown supports this remark. "With the susceptibility 
 
 of relative suggestion, the faculty oi^ judgment, as that term is com- 
 monly employed,may be considered as nearly synonymous; and I have 
 accordingly used it as synonymous in treating of the diiferent rela- 
 tions, that have come under oitr review." Philosophy of the Human 
 Mind, Lect. 51. 
 
RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 367 
 
 ferences of sound and brightness and taste could never be 
 known to us without the power of perceiving relations. 
 
 Again, we see a fellow being ; and as we make him the 
 subject of our thoughts, we at first think of him only as 
 a man. But then he may at th&same time be a father, a 
 brother, a son, a citizen, a legislator ; these terms express 
 ideas of relation. 
 
 §. 277. OJ the use of correlative terms. 
 
 Correlative terms are such terms, as are used to express 
 corresponding ideas of relation. They suggest the rela- 
 tions with great readiness, and by means of them the mind 
 can be more steadily, and longer, and with less pain, fix- 
 ed upon the ideas, of which they are expressive. The 
 words father and son, legislator and constituent, brother 
 and sister, husband. and wife, and others of this class, as 
 soon as they are named, at once carry our thoughts be- 
 yond the persons, who are the subjects of these relations, 
 to the relations ; themselves. Wherever, therefore, there 
 are correlative terms, the relations may be expected to be 
 clear to the mind. • 
 
 The word, citizen, is a relative term; but there being 
 no correlative word, expressing a precisely corresponding 
 relation, w^e find it, more difficult to form a ready concep- 
 tion of the thing signified, than of subject, which has the 
 correlatives, ruler and governor. 
 
 §.278. Of the relations of identity and diversity. 
 
 The first class of ideas of relationjwhich we shall pro- 
 ceed to consider, are those of identity and diversity. 
 
 Such is the nature of our minds, that no two objects can 
 be placed before us essentially unlike, without our having 
 a perception of this diiference. When, on the other hand, 
 there is an actual sameness in objects contemplated by us, 
 the mind perceives or is sensible of their identity. It is 
 not meant by this, that we are never liable to mistake ; that 
 the mind never confounds what is different, nor separates 
 what is the same ; our object here is merely to state the 
 general fact. 
 
368 RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 
 
 Two pieces of paper are placed before us, the one white 
 and the other red; and we at once perceive, without delay- 
 ing to form comparisons and to reason upon it, that the 
 colours are not the same. We immediately and necessarily 
 perceive a difference between a square and a circle,a triangle 
 and a parallelogram, the tree and the turf from which it 
 springs upwardja house arid the neighbouring hill, a horse 
 and his rider. 
 
 Whatever may be the appearance of this elementary 
 feeling at first sight, it is undoubtedly one of great practic- 
 al importance. It has its place in all forms of reasoning, 
 as the train of arguments proceeds from step to step ; and 
 in Demonstrative reasoning in particular, it is evident, 
 that without it we should be unable to combine together 
 the plainest propositions. 
 
 §. 279. Of the, relations of identity and diversity called 
 axioms. 
 
 The remark at the close of the last section will be bet- 
 ter understood, on a little further explanation. The state- 
 ment was,that without the^elative feelino-g of identity and 
 DIVERSITY, (otherwise called relations of agreement and 
 DISAGREEMENT,) WO should be incapable of demonstrative 
 reasoning. Such reasoning, as is well known, is carried on 
 by the help of axioms. And we accordingly never fail to find 
 a number of axioms placed at the head of geometrical, and 
 other treatises of a like nature, such as the following ; 
 Things equal to the same are equal to one another; If equals 
 be added to equals, the wholes are equal ; The whole is 
 greater than a part; Things,whichare double of the same, 
 are equal to one another ; Things which.are halves of the 
 same, are equal to one another ; Magnitudes, which co- 
 incide with one another, (that is, which exactly fill the 
 same space,) are equal to one another, &c. 
 
 It will be admitted, (and we shall see it perhaps more 
 clearly, when we again have occasion to revert to this 
 subject,) that demonstrative reasoning implies a constant 
 reference to such axioms ; that its advancement througl 
 the successive series of propositions is by means of their ait*' 
 
 nil 
 
RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 360 
 
 But it is too evident to require remark, that these axioms 
 are nothing more than particular instances of the relative 
 feeling of identity and diversity, expressed in words. It is 
 the feelings of agreement and disagreement, actually arising 
 iwthe mind, and not the mere verbal expression of them, 
 which forms the true cement and bond of the successive 
 links, and imparts consistency and strength to the whole 
 chain. 
 
 §. 280. (II.) Relations of fitness or unfitness^ 
 
 The second class, (although it may be remarked here, 
 it is of but little practical consequence in what order they 
 are arranged,) are the relations of fitness or unfitness. 
 Or they may be otherwise termed relations of suitableness 
 or unsuitableness, congruity or incongruity. The feeling 
 of the relation of fitness or unfitness arises, as every one's 
 recollection will not fail to inform him, on a multitude of 
 occasions. Coming, for the first time, into the neighbor- 
 hood of a well-constructed temple or other public edifice, 
 we at once make it the subject of our inspection and ex- 
 amination. With a glance of the eye, we bring the height, 
 and breadth, and length, and local situation of the build- 
 ing under review. We attentively consider the windows, 
 and doors, and vestibule ; the size, formation, number, and 
 position of the columns ; the place and character of the or- 
 namental parts, and we cannot avoid exercising the feeling 
 of fitness, suitableness, or congruity. -In external nature ev- 
 erything has the character of fitness. If the human mind 
 ever disapproves of the forms and correspondencies of ob- 
 jects, it is because it passes a judgment on a partial knowl- 
 edge of them, and without waiting to understand all the 
 subordinate parts. But in respect to the imitative combi- 
 nations of human genius, there is by no means an equal 
 perfection of foresight and excellence of execution ; so that 
 sometimes we have the feeling of fitness and approve ; 
 while at other times, and more frequently, we are sensible 
 of an incongruity, and cannot withhold our disapproba- 
 tion. 
 
 47 
 
S70 RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 
 
 §. 281. (in.) Relations of degree, and names expressive of them. 
 
 Another class of those intellectual perceptions, which 
 are to be ascribed to relative suggestion, may properly 
 enough be termed relations of Degree. Such feelings of 
 relation are found to exist in respect to all such objects, as 
 are capable of being considered as composed of parts, and 
 as susceptible, in some respects, of different degrees. 
 
 We look, for instance, at two men ; they are both tall; 
 but we at once perceive and assert, that one is taller than 
 the other. We taste two apples ; they are boih sweet ; 
 but we say that one is sweeter than another. That is to 
 say, we discover, in addition to the mere perception of the 
 man and the apple, a relation, a difference in the objects in 
 certain respects. 
 
 There are terms, in all languages, employed in the ex- 
 pression of such relations. In English a reference to the 
 particular relation is often combined in the same term, which 
 expresses the quality. All the words of the comparative 
 and superlative degrees, formed by merely altering the 
 termination of the positive, are of this description, as 
 whiter, sweeter, wiser, larger, smaller, nobler, kinder, 
 truest, falsest, holiest, and a multitude of others. In oth- 
 er cases, (and probably the greater number,) the epithet, 
 expressive of the quality, is combined with the adverbs 
 more and most, less and least. But certainly we should not use 
 such terms, if we were not possessed of the power of rel- 
 ative suggestion. We should ever be unable to say of one. 
 apple, thrt it is sweeter than another, or of one man, that he 
 is taller than another, without considering them in certain 
 definite respects, and without perceiving certain relations. 
 So that, if we had no knowledge of any other than relations 
 of Degree, we should abundantly see the importance of the 
 mental susceptibility under review, considered as a source 
 of words, and of gramatical forms in language. 
 
 §. 2S2. Relations of degree sometimes exist in adjectives of 
 the positive form. 
 
 Althoufl^Ii relations of degree are discoverable more 
 frequently in comparative and superlative adjectives than 
 
RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 371 
 
 any where else, they may sometimes be detected also in ab- 
 stract nouns, v/hich have the appearance of being entirely 
 positive, and not unfrequently in adjectives of the positive 
 form. — Let it be considered, as one instance among many 
 others, what we mean, when we say of a person, He is an 
 AGED man. Although the epithet has the positive form, 
 we always tacitly compare the age of the subject of it with 
 that of others, of people in general, and place the partic- 
 ular number of years, to which he may have attained, 
 by the side of that period, which we are in the habit of 
 regarding as the ordinary term of man's pilgrimage. — It is 
 the same, when we say of any person, that he is young. 
 He is then, by a tacit mental reference, considered as fall- 
 ing far short, of an assumed period, an approximation to 
 which gives. to another person the reputation of age. 
 
 Buffier, whose remarks are generally entitled to great 
 weight, happily illustrates this subject as follows.^ 
 
 If we should, for example, never have seen or heard 
 of any hill or mountain of greater height than a quarter 
 of a miJe, as might happen to some of the inhabitants of 
 the Low Countries, a mountain a mile high would ap- 
 pear a considerable one to such people ; but this moun- 
 tain would be looked upon as inconsiderable and trifling 
 to the people of the Alps, who are accustomed to see 
 mountains of much greater height. This example is so 
 striking, that there is no necessity for any other to make 
 us sensible of the nature of relations that are founded on 
 an arbitrary idea, formed either by accident and occasion, 
 or by our own fancy ; as if I should take it into my head, 
 without any foundation, that pearls are generally an inch 
 in diameter, I must in that case, look upon all the pearls 
 we have in France as very small. 
 
 "What has been here said of greatness is manifestly 
 applicable to all the other qualities of long, broadj happy., 
 unhappy^ convenient^ inconvenient^ easy, difficult, rich, poor, 
 good, bad, excellent, and many others of a similar nature, 
 that have no determinate sense, but by a relation founded 
 
 * First Truths of Pere Buffier, Part ii, Chap, xxviii. 
 
372 RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 
 
 on an arbitrary and accidental idea formed within our own 
 minds. A man thought himself miserable in having a 
 slight head ache : being afterwards seized with a giddiness 
 and violent swimming in the head, the first reflection that 
 occurred to him was, hoio happy he was when he had only his 
 first head-aohe. We here se6 that the arbitrary idea, on 
 which the comparsion and relation are founded, changes 
 the signification, and in a manner the nature, of the qual- 
 ities of happy and miserable.''^ 
 
 §. 233. (IV) Of relations of proportion. 
 
 Among other relations are those of proportion, which 
 are peculiar in being felt only on the presence of three or 
 more objects of thought. They are discoverable particu- 
 larly in the comparison of numbers, as no one proceeds far 
 in numerical combinations without a knowledge of them. 
 On examining the numbers tw^a, three, four, twenty, twen- 
 ty seven, thirty two, nine, five, eight, and sixteen, we feel 
 certain relations existing among them ; they assume a new 
 aspect, a new power in the mental view. We feel, (and we 
 can assert, in reference to that feeling,) that three is to nine 
 as nine to twenty seven ; that two is to eight as eight to 
 thirty two ; that four is to five as sixteen to twenty, &c. 
 
 And when we have once felt or perceived such relation 
 actually existing between any one number and others, we 
 ever afterwards regard it as a property inseparable from 
 that number, although the property had remain- 
 ed unknown to us, until we had compared it with 
 others — All this is nothing more than what we do 
 in respect to all the subjects of our knowledge. There 
 are many properties of external bodies, which were not 
 known to us at first, but as soon as they are discovered, 
 they are of course embraced in the general notion, which 
 we form of such bodies, and are considered as making a 
 part of it. It is the same in respect to numbers. If, on 
 comparing them with each other, we perceive certain re- 
 lations never discovered before, those relations ever after- 
 wards make a part of them. 
 
RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 373 
 
 §. 2S4. (V.) Of relations of pla'x or position. 
 
 Other feelings of relation arise, when we contemplate 
 the place or position of objects. Our minds are so consti- 
 tuted, that such feelings are the necessaiy results of our con- 
 templations of the outward objects, by which we are sur- 
 rounded. Perhaps we are asked, What we mean by po- 
 sition or place ? Without professing to give a confident 
 answer, since it is undoubtedly difiicult by any mere form 
 of words fully to explain it, we have good grounds for say- 
 ing that we cannot conceive of any body as having place, 
 without comparing it with some other bodies. If, therefore, 
 having two bodies fixed, or which maintain the same rela- 
 tive position, we can compare a third body with them, the 
 third body can then be said to have place or position. 
 
 This may be illustrated by the chess-men placed on the 
 chess-board. We say, the men are in the same place, al- 
 though the board may have been removed from one room 
 to another. We use this language, because we consider 
 the men only in relation to each oth^r and the parts of the 
 board, and not in relation to the room or parts of the 
 room 
 
 Again, a portrait is suspended in the cabin of a ship pf 
 war ; the captain points to it, and says to a bystander, that 
 it has been precisely in the same place these seven years. 
 Whereas in point of fact it has passed from Europe to Af- 
 rica, from Africa to America, and perhaps round the whole 
 world. Still the speaker uttered no falshood, because he 
 spoke of the portrait, (and was so understood to speak of 
 it,) in relation to the ship and particularly the cabin ; and 
 not in relation to the parts of the world, which the ship 
 had visited. — Such instances show that place is relative. 
 
 Hence we may clearly have an idea of the place or po- 
 sition of all the different parts of the universe, considered 
 separately, because they may be compared with other 
 parts ; although we are unable to form any idea of the 
 place or position of the universe considered as a whole, be- 
 cause we have then no other body, with which we can 
 compare if. If it were possible for us to know all worlds 
 
374 RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 
 
 and things at once, to comprehend the universe with a 
 glance, we could not assert, with all our knowledge of it, 
 that is here, or there, or yonder, or tell, where it would 
 be. 
 
 But if place express a relative notion, then it follows, 
 that all words, which involve or imply the place or posi- 
 tion of an object, are of a similar character. Such are the 
 words high and low, superiour and inferiour, (whe.n used 
 in respect to the position of objects,) near and distant, 
 above and beneath, further, nearer, hither, yonder, here, 
 there,where, beyond, within, around, without, and the like. 
 
 §. 285. (VI.) Of relations of time. 
 
 Another source of relative perceptions or feelings is 
 TIME. Time holds nearly the same relation to duration, 
 as position does to space. The position or place of objects 
 is but space marked out and limited ; time, in like manner, 
 is duration, set off into distinct periods ; and as our notions 
 of the place of bodies are relative, so also are our csncep- 
 tions of events considered as happening in time. It is 
 true, that the notions of duration and space are in them- 
 selves original and absolute, but when they are in any way 
 limited, and events are thereby contemplated in reference 
 to them under the new forms of place and time, certain 
 new conceptions arise, which are relative. 
 
 All time is contemplated under the aspects of past, pres- 
 ent, or future. We are able chiefly in consequence of the 
 revolutions of the heavenly bodies,to form a distinct notion 
 of portions of time, a day, a month, a year, &c ; we can 
 contemplate events, not only as existing at present but as 
 future or past. But always when we think or speak of 
 events in time, (in other words when we speak of the dale 
 of events,) there, is a comparison, and a feeling of relation. 
 
 W^hat, therefore, is the import of our language, when 
 ive say, the independence of the North American colonies 
 
 was declared, July 4tli, 1776. The meaning of these 
 
 expressions may be thus illustrated. W^e assume the pres- 
 ent year, 1830, as a given period and reckon back to the 
 
RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 375 
 
 year, owe, which coincides with the birth of the Saviour ; 
 then the year, 1776 expresses the distance between these 
 two extremes, viz. one, and eighteen hundred, thirty. 
 This seems to be all we learn, when we say, the Independ- 
 ence of the United States was declared at the period above 
 mentioned. 
 
 We mean the same thing, and convey the same idea, 
 whether we say that the Saviour was born in the year,0NE5 
 of the Christian era, or, in the year, 4004, from the crea- 
 tion of the world. But in the last case, the year 4004, ex- 
 presses the distance between these two extremes, viz, the 
 beginning of the world, and the. present time; while, in 
 the first instance, the event itself forms the beginning of 
 the series. So that all dates appear to be properly class- 
 ed under ideas of relation ; and also all names whatever, 
 which are in any way, expressive of the time of events, as 
 a second, a minute, day, week, hour, month, year, cycle, 
 yesterday, to-morrow, to-day, &c. 
 
 §, 286. (VII.) Of relations of possession. 
 
 Another class of relations may be called relations of pos- 
 session. Every one knows, that not unfrequently, in 
 
 his examination of objects, there arises anewfeeling,which 
 is distinct from, and independent of the mere conceptions 
 of the objects themselves ; and which, as it differs from 
 other feelings of relation, may be termed the relation of 
 possession, or belonging to. This is one of the earliest 
 feelings, which human beings exercise. V^henwe see the 
 small child grasping its top and rattle with joy, and dis- 
 puting the claims of another to share in them, we may 
 know that he has formed the notion of possession. It is 
 not only formed in early life, but experience fully shows, 
 that it loses neither activity nor strength by the lapse of 
 years. 
 
 The application of relative perception in this particular 
 form is abundantly extensive ; and we find here a fruitful 
 source of words. The whole class of possessive pronouns, 
 which are to be found in all languages, have their origin 
 here ; such as MiffE, thine, your, his, her, &c. The re- 
 
376 RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 
 
 lation of possession is embodied also in the Genitive case 
 of the Greeks, Latins, Germans, and whatever other lan- 
 guages express relations in the same way ; in the construct 
 state of nouns in the Hebrew and the other cognate dialects; 
 and in the preposition of, which is the substitute for the 
 genitive termination in English, and the articles de, du, 
 de'l, and de la in French. 
 
 The verbs to be in English,EssE in Latin, etre in French, 
 (and the same may undoubtly be said of the correspond- 
 ing verb of existence in all languages,) are often employ- 
 ed to express the relation of possession or belonging to. 
 To say that the rose is red or the orange yellow is as much 
 as to say, that the qualities of yellowness and redness are 
 the possession of, or belong to the rose and orange, But 
 it will be observed, that the relation is not indicated by 
 the name of the subject, nor by the epithet expressive of 
 its quality, but by the verb, which connects the subject 
 and predicate. And similar remarks will apply to many 
 other verbs. 
 
 This class of relations is involved in many complex 
 terms, which imply definite qualities and affections of 
 mind, as friend, enemy, lover, hater, adorer, worshipper. 
 These terms not only indicate certain individuals, to whom 
 they are applied, but assert the existence of certain mental 
 affections as their characteristics, and as belonging to them. 
 
 §. 287..[VIIL) Of relations of cause and effect. 
 
 There are relations also of Cause and Effect. We will 
 not delay here to explain the origin of the notions of cause 
 and effect any further than to say, that the notion of cause, 
 as it first exists in the mind, includes nothing more than 
 invariable antecedence. When the antecedence to the 
 event, or the sequence of whatever kind, is our own voli- 
 tion, we have the new idea of power. The idea of inva- 
 riable antecedence, therefore, which of course supposes 
 some sequence, when it was combined with that of power, 
 constitutes the full notion of cause. When the sequence is 
 found invariably to follow, and its existence cannot be as- 
 cribed to any thing else, it is called the effect. 
 
 I 
 
RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 377 
 
 Cause andeifect, therefore, have certahily a relation to 
 each other; it is thus that they exist in the view of the mind 
 and in the nature of things, however true it may be, that 
 men are unable to trace any physical connection between 
 them. We cannot conceive of a cause, if we exclude from 
 the list of our ideas the correlative notion of effect, nor, 
 on the other hand, do we call any thing an effect with- 
 out a reference to some antecedent. These two notions, 
 therefore, involve or imply the existence of each other ; 
 that is, are relative. 
 
 If, in our notice of outward objects, we examine par- 
 ticular instances of cause and effect, we shall discover 
 grounds of the correctness of this view. No one is igno- 
 rant that men usually, give the name of events, of occur- 
 rences, or facts, to those things,which from time to time 
 fall under their notice, when they are considered in them- 
 selves. They are the mere facts, the mere events, and 
 nothing more. But when in the course of their further 
 experience, such events are found to have certain invaria- 
 ble forerunners, they cease to apply these terms, and 
 call them, in reference to their antecedents, effects. And 
 in like manner the antecedents are called causes, not 
 in themselves considered, but in reference to what invaria- 
 bly comes after. — In this explanation it is obviously unne- 
 cessary, independently of what has already been said on the 
 subject, to take into consideration what we understand 
 by Power, wdiicli we know and feel to be scattered 
 through the universe; showing itself not only in the 
 movements and efforts of men, but in every blooming 
 flower, and twinkling star, and in all the works of nature, 
 without which there can be neither cause nor effect, nei- 
 ther antecedence nor sequence, neither strength of harmo- 
 ny nor stability of action. 
 
 §. 283. Instances of complex terms involving the relation of 
 cause and effect. 
 
 The simple relative feeling of cause and effect can of 
 course only exist in such cases of cause and effect as come 
 within the knowledge and cognizance of the mind» 
 
 48 
 
378 RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 
 
 This simple feeling, like most other simple states of mind, 
 has but one name, (viz. that of cause and effect,) although 
 arising on innumerable occasions. The relation, however, 
 is embodied in a multitude of names which are expressive 
 of complex objects, such as printer, sculptor, warrior, po- 
 et, manufacturer, painter, &c. 
 
 This may be thus illustrated. When we look at any in- 
 teresting piece of statuary, the sight of it naturally suggests 
 its author. But when our mind is thus directed from 
 the statue to the sculptor, it is evident that we do not 
 think of him as we do of a thousand others, but we com- 
 bine with the conception of the individual a reference to 
 what he has done. We unite with the mere complex no- 
 tion of man that of cause, and this combination evident- 
 ly alters its character, making it relative instead of abso- 
 lute. 
 
 In like manner when we look at a fine portrait or his- 
 torical painting, we are naturally reminded of the artist, 
 whose ingenuity has been displayed in its proportions and 
 colouring. But the word painter,which we apply to him, 
 expresses not merely the man, but comprises the addition- 
 al notion of the relation of cause,which he holds to the in- 
 teresting picture before us. 
 
 §. 289. Connection of relative suggestion or judgment with 
 reasoning. 
 
 It may be profitable to notice here the connection, 
 which relative suggsstion has with reasoning in general. 
 Feelings of relation, (or elementary judgments, as they may 
 perhaps properly be called,) are, in some respects, to a 
 train of reasoning, what parts are to the whole. But they 
 evidently do not of themselves include all the parts in a 
 train of reasoning, and are distinguished by this peculiari- 
 ty, that their office, in a great measure, is to connect to- 
 gether other subordinate parts in the train. In the combina- 
 tions of numbers, and in the various applications of demon- 
 strative reasoning, the relations of proportion and the rela- 
 tions of IDENTITY and DIVERSITY, (othcrwisc called of agree- 
 ment and disagreement.) find a conspicuous place. Moral 
 
RELATIVE SUGGESTION. 379 
 
 reasoning embraces all kinds of relations, tliose of degree 
 time, place, fitness and unfitness, possession, and cause 
 and effect, as well of agreement and disagreement', and of 
 proportion. Relative feelings, sometimes of one kind and 
 sometimes of another, continually unfold themselves, as 
 the mind advances in an argument. 
 
 Although in reasoning there are elements besides feel- 
 ings of relation, it is evident that it (ftinnot advance inde- 
 pendently of their aid. Facts may be accumulated, having 
 close and decisive relations to the points to be proved, but 
 they can never be so bound together as to result in any 
 conclusion, without a perception or feeling of those rela- 
 tions. So that in some respects, the senses, consciousness, 
 original suggestion, memory, testimony, &c, may be re- 
 garded as the handmaids, of relative suggestion ; the for- 
 mer furnishing the facts, and the latter rendering them 
 available. 
 
CHAPTER FIFTH . 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 ^90. Internal knowledge not limited in its origin to one 
 source or one power. 
 
 However it may be regarded as a trite remark, that 
 the memory has an intimate connection with the origin of 
 knowledge, it probably is an indisputable one ; although 
 some may see reason for annexing the qualification, that it 
 is less directly a source of ideas in itself, than in its vari- 
 ous connections with other mental susceptibilities. We 
 cannot form abstract notions, independently of the aid of 
 ;the memory; we can neither exercise the power of reason- 
 ing nor of imagination without it ; it may even be consid- 
 ered as implied in, or at least essential to the notion of 
 personal identity. And how is it possible, therefore, not 
 to regard it as, either directly or indirectly, one of the 
 sources of internal knowledge.'' — The ways, in which 
 knowledge is let into the mind, are more numerous, than 
 would probably be supposed on a slight or cursory inspec- 
 tion ; and it befits us, therefore, to be cautious of limiting 
 its growth and expansion to one cause, to any fixed and 
 exclusive mode of action, and to any single combination of 
 circumstances. Such a limitation would seem to imply a 
 disregard of the general experience on the subject, and a 
 forgetfulness also, that the human soul is the result of di- 
 vine workmanship, that its existence is beyond the direct 
 cogi.izance of the senses^ that it sustains a multitude of re- 
 
MEMORY. ' 331 
 
 lations, is controlled by uncounted influences, and is sus- 
 ceptible of unlimited developement. 
 
 So far, therefore, from saying with Mr. Locke, that 
 consciousness is the only source of internal knowledge, (if 
 such be truly his doctrine, as it is generally understood to 
 be,) we should not only add the sources of primitive and 
 relative suggestion, but should increase the number with 
 every inward susceptibility, and with every specific diver- 
 sity of interior mental action, the memory, reasoning, im- 
 agination, &c. These are all sources of new ideas. But 
 in proceeding to consider them, it is proper to remark, 
 that our attention will be more taken up with the faculties 
 themselves and their action, than with their immediate 
 results on the increase of knowledge. And accordingly, in 
 next proceeding to investigate the memory, we wish to 
 know what the memory is, its diversified character in dif- 
 ferent individuals, the causes of this diversity, the means of 
 improving it. &c. 
 
 §. 291. Explanations in respect to the faculty of memory. 
 
 Memory is that power or susceptibility of the mind, 
 from which arise those conceptions, which are modified 
 by the relation of past time. It is not a simple, but com- 
 plex state of the intellectual principle, implying (1) a 
 conception of the object, (2) the relation of priority in its 
 existence. That is, we not only have a conception of the 
 object, but this conception's attended with the conviction, 
 that it underwent the examination of our senses, or was 
 perceived by us at some former period. 
 
 When we imagine, that we stand in the midst of a for- 
 est, or on the top of a mountain, but remain safe all the 
 while at our own fireside, these pleasing ideas of woods, 
 and of skies painted over us, and of plains under our feet, 
 are mere conceptions. But when with these insulated con- 
 ceptions, we connect the relation of time ; and they gleam 
 upon our souls, as the woods, plains,and mountains of our 
 youthful days ; then those intellectual states, which were 
 before mere conceptions, become remembrances. And 
 the susceptibility, which the mind possesses of these latter 
 complex states, is what usually goes under the name of 
 the power or faculty of memory. 
 
382 MEMORY. 
 
 §. 292. Of the differences in the strength of memory. 
 
 The susceptibility of remembrances is the common pri- 
 vilege of all, and generally speaking, it is possessed in 
 nearly equal degrees. To each one there is given a suffi- 
 cient readiness in this respect ; lii^ ability to remember is 
 such as to answer all the ordinary purposes of life. But, 
 although there is in general a nearly equal distribution of 
 this power, we find a few instances of great weakness, and 
 other instances of great strength of memory. 
 
 It is related of the Roman orator, Hortensius, by Sene- 
 ca, that after sitting a whole day at a public sale, he gave 
 an account from memory, in the evening, of all things sold, 
 with the prices and the names of the purchasers, and that 
 this account, when compared with what had been taken in 
 writing by a notary, was found to be exact in every par- 
 ticular. 
 
 The following is an instance of strength of memory 
 somewhat remarkable. An Englishman, at a certain time, 
 came to Frederic the Great of Prussia, for the express pur- 
 pose of giving him an exhibition of his power of recollec- 
 tion. Frederic sent for Voltaire, who read to his majesty 
 a pretty long poem,which he had just finished. The Eng- 
 lishman was present, and was in such a position, that he 
 could hear every word of the poem ; but was concealed 
 from Voltaire's notice. After the reading of the poem 
 •was finished, Frederic observed to the author, that the 
 production could not be an original one ; as there was a 
 foreign gentleman present, who could recite every word of 
 dt. Voltaire listened with amazement to the stranger, as 
 he repeated, word for word, the poem,which he had been 
 at so much pains in composing ; and giving way to a mo- 
 mentary freak of passion, he tore the manuscript in pieces. 
 A statement, being made to him of the circumstances, mit- 
 igated his anger, and he was very willing to do penance for 
 the suddenness of his passion by copying down the work 
 from a second repetition of it by the stranger, who was 
 able to go through with it, as before. 
 
 A great number of instances of this dejscription are 
 found in the records of various individuals,but they must be 
 
MEMORY. 383 
 
 considered as exceptions to the general features of the 
 human mind, the existence of which cannot be explained 
 on any known principles. As no one can tell, why one 
 oak on the mountains is tall and large, while its neighbour, 
 on the same soil and of the same description of trees, re- 
 mains stinted and dwarfish ; so we find ourselves unable 
 to give any philosophic explanation of such instances as 
 have been mentioned. 
 
 But there are also weak memories, so much so as to be 
 properly considered exceptions to the generally equal dis- 
 tribution of this mental susceptibility. Individuals can be 
 found, from whose memory truths have passed away almost 
 the moment after they have been acquired ; and who, in 
 the management of the common concerns of life, discover 
 a forgetfulness extremely unfortunate and perplexing. In- 
 stances of this kind are indeed not so frequently found 
 recorded as of an opposite description ; because it is more 
 pleasing and satisfactory to the literary annalist to record 
 the excellencies, than the defects of the mind. 
 
 , §. 293. 0/ the effects of disease on the memory. 
 
 Some writers have attempted to explain the phenome- 
 na of memory by supposed changes wrought in the cere- 
 bral substance ; but without assenting to any such hy- 
 pothesis, it is proper to remark, that it seems to be 
 well established, that there is a connection of some kind 
 between the mind and body. We rightly and fairly infer, 
 that there is such a connection,because there are a multitude 
 of facts, which can be explained on no other supposition ; 
 but in what way, or to what extent it exists, it would be 
 worse than futile to assert with the limited knowledge 
 
 we at present possess. The general truth, however, 
 
 that there is a connection of some sort between the mind 
 and body, and consequently, a reciprocal influence, is con- 
 firmed, besides other sources of evidence, by some facts 
 in respect to the memory.— I have read, (says Dr. Beattie,) 
 of a person, who falling from the top of a house, forgot all 
 his acquaintances, and even the foces of his own mmily ; 
 and of a learned author, who, on receiving a blow on the 
 
381 MEMORY. 
 
 head by a folio dropping from its shelf, lost all his learn- 
 ing, and was obliged to study the alphabet the second time. 
 He further remarks, that he was himself acquainted with a 
 clergyman, who was attacked with a fit of apoplexy. Af- 
 ter his recovery, he was found to have forgotten all the 
 transactions of the four years immediately preceding, but 
 remembered as well as ever what had happened before 
 that period. The newspapers, which were printed during 
 the period mentioned, were read with interest, and afford- 
 ed him a great deal of amusement, being perfectly new. — 
 Thucydides, in his account of the plague of Athens, makes 
 mention of some persons, who survived that disease ; but 
 their bodily sufferings had affected their mental constitu- 
 tion, so that they had no recollection of their own former 
 history, had forgotten their friends, and every thing else. 
 From many instances of this kind, and from others, 
 which go to prove, that the state of the mind, on the other 
 hand, often has a very perceptible effect on the bodily 
 functions, it may justly be inferred, that there is a connec- 
 tion existing between the mind and the body, and that a 
 reciprocal influence is exercised. But what that precise 
 connection is ; whether it be limited, on the part of the 
 body, to the brain ; on what it depends ; in what ways it 
 is modified ; are inquiries, which cannot be satisfactorily 
 answered at present, whatever hypothesis may be propo- 
 sed. Why a fever, or an attack of apoplexy, or a remo- 
 val of a part of the brain, or an inordinate pressure of it^ 
 which are effects on the body, should affect the mind, a 
 spiritual substance, which is supposed to be essentially 
 difterent from matter, no one is able to say. — The fact, 
 however, that such a reciprocal connection exists, suggests 
 a reason for a due degree of attention to the physical sys- 
 tem. The importance of a healthy and vigorous consti- 
 tution of the body, as being very nearly connected with a 
 corresponding health and vigour of the intellectual princi- 
 ple, should ever be remembered by those in the pursuit of 
 knowledge. 
 
 ^. 204. Memory of the uneducated. 
 
 There is a peculiarity in the memories of uneducated 
 
MEMORY. 38^ 
 
 people, of mechanics, farmers, day-labourers, and of all 
 others, who, from tlie pressure of tlieir particular callings 
 may have had but little means of mental culture. This 
 peculiarity is seen in their great readiness in the recollec- 
 tion of places, times, arrangements in dress and in buildings, 
 local incidents, &c. In their narrations they will be found to 
 specify the time of events ; not only the year, but th© 
 month, and day, and in their description of persons and 
 places are not less particular. This trait in the mental 
 character of this class of people seems to have arrested the 
 notice of Shakspeare. 
 
 Mrs. Quickly in reminding Sir John Falstaff of his 
 promise of marriage, discovers her readiness of recollec- 
 tion in the specification of the great variety of circumstan- 
 ces, under which the promise was made. Thou didsi 
 
 swear to me an a pdrcel-gilt goblet j sitting in my Dolphin cham- 
 ber, at the round tabUy by a sea-coal fire, on Wednesday in 
 Whitsun week, when the prince broke thy head for likening him 
 to a singing man oj TVindsor, <|'C. The coachman in Cor- 
 nelius Scriblerus gives an account of what he had seen in 
 Bear-garden ; — Two men fought a prize ; one was a fair man, 
 a sergeant in the guards ; the other black, a butcher ; the serjeant 
 had red trousers, the butcher blue ; they fought upon a stage about 
 four o^clock, and the serjeant wounded the butcher in the leg. 
 
 The explanation of this peculiarity of memory in com- 
 mon people is this. It will be kept in mind, that our 
 
 remembrances are merely conceptions, modified by rela- 
 tions of past time. Removing then the modification of 
 past time, and the remaining element of our remembrances 
 will be conceptions. Our conceptions cannot be called up 
 by a mere voluntary effort, because to will the exist- 
 ence of a conception necessarily implies the actual ex- 
 istence of the conception already in the mind. Our con- 
 ceptions, therefore, arise in the mind on the principles of 
 association. We come, then, directly to the fact which 
 explains that peculiarity or characteristic of memory, of 
 which we are speaking. 
 
 The knowledge, which is possessed by persons of very 
 small education, will be found to be connected together 
 49 
 
336 MEMORY. 
 
 by the most obvious and easy principles of association ; 
 for instance, contiguity in place and time. These people 
 have been very much, we may say chiefly, in the pracUce 
 of associating those things, which happened at the same 
 time, or were proximate in position, it may be thought, 
 that mere time and place are very unimportant relations, 
 but however that may be, they most strongly seize the 
 notice of persons of small education ; and by means of 
 them their overflowing multitude of remembrances is 
 kept in place. Having by almost constant exercise great- 
 ly strengthened the tendency to those associations, which 
 exist in consequence of mere contiguity, they can very 
 readily tell you, not only the precise place^ where any 
 thing has happened, but almost every thing, which has 
 happened in the immediate neighborhood ; not only the 
 iimej when the event occurred, but many other things, 
 which occurred about the same period. 
 
 §. 296. Memory of men oj philosophical minds. 
 
 From speaking of the power of remembrance in the 
 uneducated, we naturally turn to persons of a reflecting, 
 and philosophic mental character. It has often been re- 
 marked of such, that they discover a want of readiness of 
 recollection. The servant in the family of the philoso- 
 pher will be likely to know much liiore about the fields, 
 and fences, and cattle of the neighbours ; will be more 
 minutely acquainted with their individual dress, and man- 
 ners, and habits, than the philosopher himself. More than 
 this, he has an iiptness, an ability at remembering things 
 of this nature, which his philosophic master evidently does 
 
 not possess. Again, we suppose a battle to have been 
 
 fought ; persons of limited intellectual culture will tell 
 you the precise day of the month, the exact number of 
 troops, the names of the regiments, the amount of killed 
 and wounded, and many trifling incidents of individuals, 
 whether solemn or ludicrous, which are fitted subsequent- 
 ly to enliven the narrations of the fireside. But the phi- 
 losopher, who has read the same accounts, does not re- 
 member these particulars, and finds it a very diflicult thing 
 
MEMORY. 387 
 
 to do it. But we perceive, that his mind has been profit- 
 ably employed in reflections on the causes of the battle., 
 on various striking developements of human character in 
 its heat and bustle, and on its effects upon tlie happiness 
 or misery of families and nations. 
 
 Many have imagined, that the memory of the unedu- 
 cated, because it deals so mucli in miniits particulars, is 
 intrinsically stronger, than of others. It is, no doubt, to 
 the multitude a more imposing species of memory, and ad- 
 mirably answers tlie purpose of those, in whom it appears. 
 But mere contiguity in time and place, which is almost 
 the sole principle that binds together events in the recollec- 
 tion of such persons, is of but small consequence in the 
 estimation of the philosopher. He looks more deeply into 
 the nature of things ; their mere outward and incidental 
 circumstances do not particularly arrest his attention ; and 
 consequently his knowledge is connected together by less 
 obvious and ready, but more important principles, such 
 as analogy, contrast, and cause and effect. 
 
 §. 297. Of the memory of the aged. 
 
 A defect of memory is often noticed in persons, who 
 are advanced in years. Very few retain those powers of 
 recollection, which they possessed in early days. "Age, 
 says Ossian, is now on my tongue, and my soul has failed ; 
 memory fails on my mind." — The failure of this mental 
 susceptibility in the aged seems to be owing to two causes, 
 viz. the impaired state of the organs of perception, and a 
 defect of attention. 
 
 '(1 ) Their organs of external perception are impaired. 
 We find it difficult, in consequence of the failure of 
 their sense of hearing, to converse with people, advanced 
 in years, and it requires a great effort, both on our part 
 and theirs, to make them understand what we say. The 
 most conclusive arguments, and flashes of wit, and rich 
 strains of music have in a great measure ceased to excite 
 in them any interest. — There is a like failure of the sense 
 of seeing also. They no longer take pleasure in the de- 
 lightful aspects of creation. The waving forest, and the 
 
S8S MEMORY. 
 
 gay beams of the sun, although they have not ceased to 
 liave charms for others, have but little or none for them. 
 
 (2) The second cause of- ihe loeakness of memory^ oj lohich 
 
 old people complain, is a defect of attention. That mental 
 
 exercise, to which we give the name of attention, always 
 implies desire, an emotion of interest ; and without an 
 emotion of this description^ it cannot exist. But the world, 
 (including in the term what is beautiful in nature, and 
 what is important in the duties and callings of life.) has at 
 last ceased to excite the emotions, which it formerly awa- 
 kened. The aged are like the prisoner, released in the 
 period of the French revolution, from the Bastille ; they 
 find themselves, as it were, in a new creation, which pass- 
 es before them with great indistinctness, and with which 
 they feel but little sympathy. And why should it be 
 thought unnatural, that they should neglect in some meas- 
 ure that scene of things, which has already learnt to forget 
 and to neglect them ? As their organs of external percep- 
 tion have failed them, and there has also been a defect of 
 attention, the memory, as a natural consequence, has be- 
 come powerless and broken. 
 
 It should, however, be remarked here, that, notwith- 
 standing what has been said, aged people often recal, with 
 great readiness and precision, the feelings and the incidents 
 of their youth. As when a man, who has been greatly 
 prospered, but who at last meets with sudden and disas- 
 trous I'everses of fortune, finds, in this new state of things, 
 his obsequious attendants fleeing away and turning against 
 him, while only a few early friends remain unmoved in 
 evil and good report ; so early feelings and early associa- 
 tions appear to cling with a faithful fondness to the shat- 
 tered intellects of the aged. The old soldier, who had a 
 share in the American Revolution, will sit down by his 
 fireside and describe with great particularity the scenes, 
 where he toiled and bled, and yet be quite unable to give 
 an account of the incidents of the preceding week. 
 
 The explanation of this trait in the mentc^J aspects of 
 
 the aged seems to be this. As a general statement, our 
 
 early feelings and our early associations are the strongest. 
 
MEMORY. 389 
 
 That they should be so is not strange, since we have then 
 entered on a state of things, which, in its essential fea- 
 tures, is new, and which, in all its diversities of duty, and 
 pleasure, and danger, attracts, and excites us by continual 
 novelty. Who can forget the plaihffwhere he wandered 
 in early life? Who can erase from his recollection the 
 associates of those days of wonder, activity, and hope ? 
 Who can obliterate from his heart his toils, and his suffer- 
 ings, and his joys, all of which assumed a peculiar emphasis 
 and importance, being connected with future prospects^ 
 
 the adversities and the successes of after life ? These 
 
 things remain, while others vanish. Such feelings, so 
 deeply fixed in the mind, and bound together and made 
 permanent by the strength of a mutual association, are 
 frequently recalled ; they recur to the soul in the activity 
 and bustle of life, and in those more favoured moments, 
 when it is given up to silent and solemn meditations. The 
 effect of this frequent recurrence can easily be imagined- 
 The early impressions, which are the subjects of such re- 
 currence, become in time, if one may be allowed the ex- 
 pression a part of the mind itself ; they seem to be woven 
 into its existence. Hence old men, who have no eye 
 and no hearing for the events, that are passing around 
 them, repeat, with the greatest animation, the stories of 
 scenes, and actions, and friendships of fifty years ago. 
 
 §. 298. Memory of persons of a rich imagination. 
 
 It is a remark of Dr. Watts, that a fine genius is often 
 found to have a feeble memory. By a fine genius he 
 probably understood what we commonly mean by a person 
 of a rich imagination ; that is, one, who is furnished with 
 a rich store of images, has readiness in the perception of 
 their congruity or incongruity with each other, and of 
 course has great power in the formation of various new 
 combinations. 
 
 Such a person finds a luxuriance of wealth in himself. 
 He is continually and happily entertained with the new 
 pictures, which his imagination creates. Hence he does 
 not so much entertain himself with outward events ; many 
 
390 MEMORY. 
 
 facts, which are particularly noticed and retained by oth- 
 ers, pass by hirn unregarded ; and, therefore, quickly es- 
 cape from his remembrance. Montaigne (§. 8.) seems to 
 have been a person of this description ; acquainted with 
 the general principles of the sciences, possessing an exu- 
 berance of intellectual riches, but utterly incapable of re- 
 membering dates, times, places, and the numerous mat- 
 ters-of fact of every day's occurrence. 
 
 Weakness of memory in persons of a rich imagination 
 is discovered also in their reading of books. The reason 
 of it seems to be a too great confidence in their own abili- 
 ty. Conscious of their own resources, they are tempted to 
 peruse books in a hasty and careless manner, and without 
 due attention. The result of this careless manner, both in 
 respect to events and the sentiments of authors, is that they 
 are but imperfectly known at first, and are very speedily 
 forgotten. -This will not appear strange, in connection 
 with the remark at § 238, on the connection existing be- 
 tween memory and attention. The weakness of memory, 
 therefore, in persons of rich imagination is not constitution- 
 al and permanent, but a matter of mere accident ; and, for 
 this reason, the more discreditable. When such persons 
 have habitually taken an interest in the common affairs of 
 life, they are found to remember their details, however 
 unpoetical ; and in their reading of authors nothing seems 
 to be wanting but interest and attention, in order to secure 
 them from the reproach, under which they are thought to 
 labour. 
 
 §.299. On the compatibility of strong memory and good judg- 
 ment. 
 
 By JUDGMENTS we understand here nothing more 
 than the opinions, which we form in view of evidence ; in 
 other words, they are the results or conclusions of moral 
 reasoning. By a person oi good judgment, we accordingly 
 mean one, who examines subjects with caution, and whose 
 results founded on such examination, for the most part 
 prove correct. That persons may possess, in a very high 
 degree, the susceptibility of memory, and still be incapa- 
 
MEMORY. 391 
 
 ble of correct moral reasoning or of exhibiting any other 
 indications of a well judging mind, is a fact well known. 
 There have even been idiots, who certainly could present 
 no claims to the character-of judging well, that have, nev- 
 ertheless, been remarkable for memory. Such are, in- 
 deed, instances of an extreme kind ; — but there are not 
 wanting many other cases, where strong memories have 
 been found united with feeble judgment. On this fact it 
 may be remarked, as follows. 
 
 The connection between a strong memory and a weak 
 judgment, it may be said without any hesitation, is not 
 necessary, but merely accidental ; that is, is not the con- 
 stitution of nature, but in general the result of circumstan- 
 ces. As it is an accidental state of things, and not any 
 thing essential and permanent in our mental structure, we 
 must look for its appropriate cause in erroneous mental 
 
 discipline. It may well be supposed, that those, wha 
 
 possess strong memories, are not insensible of their excel- 
 lence in this respect ; and the approbation, which they 
 have received in consequence of it, encourages them to 
 treasure up a dry collection of all facts, which will, in any 
 w^ay, bear repetition. Dates, genealogies, local incidents, 
 traditional anecdotes, are all seized, and retained with pe- 
 culiar avidity. But too much intent upon the mere dates 
 and names of things, such persons fail to inquire into their 
 true nature; they neglect other and more important forms 
 of mental discipline ; and thus justly sustain the reputa- 
 tion of possessing a showy rather than discriminating and 
 sound knowledge. In instances of this description, the 
 relations, by which the suggested trains of thought are as- 
 sociated, are the more slight and obvious ones, such as of 
 time, place, &c. But there are some exceptions to this 
 unwise course ; individuals may be found, who, with an 
 astonishing ability to recal the most unimportant inci- 
 dents of daily occurrence, as well as the dry details of 
 historical facts, combine the far more enviable ability of 
 discriminating the true differences of things, of combining 
 means for the attainment of ends, and of rightly estima- 
 
392 MEMORY. 
 
 ting evidence in its various applications; which are among 
 the characteristics of men of sound judgment. 
 
 §. 300. Intentional memory or recollection. 
 
 The definition of memory, which has been given, is, 
 that it is the power or susceptibility of the mind, from 
 which arise those conceptions, which are modified by the 
 relation of past time. This definition necessarily resolves 
 memory in good part into association. It is, therefore, to 
 be here observed, that our trains of associated thouo^ht are 
 not voluntary ; that is, are not directly under the control 
 of the WILL. They come and depart, without it being 
 possible for us to exercise any thing more, than an indirect 
 government over them. (See §. 213.) It follows from 
 these facts, that oiir remembrances also are not voluntary; 
 or, in other words, it is impossible for us to remember in 
 consequence of merely choosing to remember. To will 
 or to choose to remember any thing implies, that the 
 thing in question is already in the mind ; and hence there 
 is not only an impossibility resulting from the nature of 
 the mind, but also an absurdity, in the idea of calling up 
 thought by volition. Our chief power, therefore, in 
 quickening and strengthening the memory, will be found 
 to consist in our skill in applying and modifying the vari- 
 ous prinibiples or laws of association. And this brings us 
 to a consideration of what is called intentional memory 
 or RECOLLECTION ; a subject, which was partly illustrated 
 in the section above referred to. 
 
 Whenever we put forth an exercise of intentional mem- 
 ory, or make a formal attempt to remember some circum- 
 stance, it is evident, that the event in general, of which 
 the circumstance when recalled will be found to be a part, 
 must have previously been an object of attention. That 
 is, we remember the great outlines of some story, but can- 
 not, in the first instance, give a complete account of it, 
 which we wish to do. We make an efifort to recal the cir- 
 cumstances not remembered in two ways. We may, in 
 
 the first place, form diiferent suppositions, and see, which 
 agrees best ^Yith the general outlines ; the general features 
 
MEMORY. 39S 
 
 or outlines of the subject^being detained before us, with 
 a considerable degree of i>crinanency, by means of some 
 feeling of desire or interest. This method of restoring 
 thoughts is rather an inference of reasoning, than a genu- 
 ine exercise of memory. 
 
 We may in the second place^ merely delay upon those 
 thoughts, which we already hold possession of; and re- 
 volve them in our minds ; until, aided by some principle 
 of association, we are able to lay hold of the particular 
 ideas, for which we were searching. Thus when we en- 
 deavour to recite what we had previously committed to 
 memory, but are at a loss for a particular passage ; we 
 repeat, a number of times, the concluding words of the 
 preceding sentence. In this way, the sentence, w^hicli w^as 
 forgotten, is very frequently recalled. 
 
 §. 301. Instance illustrative of the iJvcceding. 
 
 We had occasion, in a former section, to mention the 
 case of an individual, who, in consequence of an attack of 
 apoplexy, forgot all the transactions of the four years im- 
 mediately preceding. It is further to be observed here, 
 that the same individual recovered by degrees all he had 
 lost ; so as after a while to have nearly or quite as full a 
 remembrance of that peripd, as others. In this instance 
 the power of the principles of association appears to have 
 been at first completely prostrated by the disease, without 
 any prospect of their being again brought into action, ex- 
 cept by some assistance afforded them. This assistance, 
 no doubt, was reading and conversation. By reading 
 old newspapers and by conversation, he, from time to time, 
 fell upon ideas, which he had not only been possessed of 
 before, but which had been associated with other ideas, 
 forming originally distinct and condensed trains of thought. 
 
 And thus whole series were restored. Other series 
 
 again were recovered by applying the methods of inten- 
 tional RECOLLECTION ; that is, by forming suppositions 
 and comparing thein with the ideas already recovered, or 
 by continually revolving in mind such trains as were restor- 
 
 50 
 
394 MEMORY. 
 
 ed, and thus rousing up others. Such, we can hardly 
 doubt to have been, in the main, the process, by which the 
 person, of whom we are speaking, recovered the knowl- 
 edge he had lost. 
 
 These views, in addition to what has now been said, 
 may be illustrated also by what we sometimes observe in 
 old men. Question them as to the events of early life ; 
 and at times they will be unable to give any answer what- 
 ever. But whenever you mention some prominent inci- 
 dent of their young days, or perhaps some friend, on whom 
 many associations have gathered, it will often be found, 
 that their memory revives, and that they are able to state 
 many things, in respect to which they were previously 
 silent. 
 
 §. 303. Marks of a good memory. 
 
 The great purpose, to which the faculty of memory is 
 subservient, is, to enable us to retain the knowledge, which 
 we have from our experiences, for future use. The prom- 
 inent marks of a good memory, therefore, are these two, 
 viz. Tenacity in retaining ideas, and readiness in bring- 
 ing them forward on necessary occasions. 
 
 First ; of tenacity or power of retaining ideas. — The 
 impressions, which are made on some minds, are durable. 
 They are like channels worn away in stone, and names en- 
 graven in monumental marble, which defy the operation of 
 the ordinary causes of decay, and withstand even the defa- 
 cing touch of time. But other memories, which at first 
 seemed to grasp as much, are destitute of this power of re- 
 tention . The inscriptions, made upon them, are like char- 
 acters written on the sand, which the first breath of wind 
 covers over, and like figures on a bank of snow, which the 
 sun smiles upon, and melts. The inferiority of the latter 
 description of memory to the former must be obvious ; so 
 much so as to solicit no comment. A memory, whose 
 powder of retaining is greatly diminished, of course loses a 
 great part of its value. 
 
 Second ; of readiness or facility in bringing forward 
 
MEMORY. 395 
 
 what is remembered. — Some personsj who cannot be sup- 
 posed to be deficient in tenacity of remembrance, appear to 
 fail, in a confident and prompt command of what they re- 
 member. Some mistalte has been committed in the ar- 
 rangement of their knowledge ; there has been some defect 
 in the mental discipline ; or for some other cause, whatev- 
 er it may be, they often discover perplexity, and remem- 
 ber, as if they remembered not. Their knowledge, al- 
 though they have it in possession, does not come prompt- 
 ly forth at their bidding, like the soldiers of the believing 
 Centurion, who said to one, Go, and he goeth, and to an- 
 other. Come, and he cometh. It is the opposite ; calls 
 without answers, requistions without obedience. 
 
 §. 303. Directions or rules for the improvement of the memory. 
 
 For the purpose of securing the most efficient action of 
 this inestimable faculty, and particularly that tenacity and 
 readiness, which have been spoken of, the following di- 
 rections maybe found worthy of attention. 
 
 (I,) — Jfever be satisfied with a partial or half acquaintance 
 
 with things. There is no less a tendency to intellectual, 
 
 than to bodily inactivity ; students, in order to avoid in- 
 tellectual toil, are too much inclined to pass on in a hur- 
 ried and careless manner. This is injurious to the memo- 
 ry. " Nothing (says Dugald Stewart,) has such a tendency 
 to weaken, not only the powers of invention, but the intel- 
 lectual powers in general, as a habit of extensive and various 
 reading without reflection." Always make it a rule fully 
 to understand what is gone over. Those, who are deter- 
 mined to grapple with the subject in hand, whatever may 
 be its nature, and to become master of it, soon feel a great' 
 interest ; truths, which were at first obscure become clear 
 and familiar. The consequence of this increased clearness 
 and interest is an increase of attention ; and the natural 
 result of this is, that the truths are very strongly fixed in 
 the memory. A perpetual vacillation between the hon- 
 ours and toils of science is a species of " halting between 
 two opinions," that is not less injurious in learning, than in 
 religion. 
 
396 . MEMORY. 
 
 (II,) — We are to refer our knowledge^ as much as possible^ to 
 
 general principles. To refer our knowledge to general 
 
 principles is to classify it ; and this is perhaps the best 
 mode of classification. If a lawyer or merchant were to 
 throw all their papers together promiscuously, they could 
 not calculate on much readiness in finding what they 
 might at any time want. If a man of letters were to re- 
 cord in a common place book all the ideas and facts, 
 which occurred to him, without any method, he wouldex- 
 perience th.e greatest difficulty in applying them to use. 
 It is the same with a memory, where there is no classifica- 
 tion. Whoever fixes upon some general principle, wheth- 
 er political, literary, or philosophical, and collects facts in 
 illustration of it, will find no difficulty in remembering 
 them, however numerous ; when without such general 
 principles the recollection of them would have been ex- 
 tremely burdensome. 
 
 (Ill,) — Consider the nature of the study ^ and make use of 
 those helps J which are thus afforded. This rule may be illus- 
 trated by the mention of some department of science. 
 Thus, in acquiring a knowledge of geography, the study is 
 to be pursued, as much as possible, with the aid of good 
 globes, charts, and maps. It requires a great effort of 
 memory, and generally an unsuccessful one, to recollect 
 the relative extent and situation of places, the numerous 
 physical and political divisionsof the earth, from the book. 
 The advantages of studying geography with maps, globes, 
 &c. are two. (1) — The form, relative situation, and extent 
 of countries become, in this case, ideas, or rather conceptions 
 of sight ; such conceptions (§. 198.) are very vivid, and 
 are more easily recalled lo remembrance, than others. 
 
 (2) Our remembrances are assisted by the law of conti- 
 guity in place, (§. 107,) which is known to be one of the 
 most efficient aids. When we have once, 'from having a 
 map or globe before us, formed an acquaintance with the 
 general visible appearance of an island, a gulf, an ocean, 
 or a continent, nothing is more easy than to remember 
 the subordinate divisions or parts. Whenever we have 
 examined, and fixed in our minds the general app<*arance 
 
MEMORY. 397 
 
 or outlines of a particular country, we do not easily forget 
 the situation of those countries, which are contiguous. 
 
 We find another illustration of this rule in the reading 
 of history. There is such a multitude of facts in histor- 
 ical writings, that to endeavour to remember them all is 
 fruitless ; and if it could be done, would be of very small 
 advantage. Hence, in reading the history of any country, 
 fix upon two or three of the most interesting epochs ; make 
 them the subject of particular attention ; learn the spirit 
 of the age, and the private life and fortunes of prominent 
 individuals; in a word, study these periods not only as an- 
 nalists, but as philosophers. When they are thus studied, 
 the mind can hardly fail to retain them ; they will be a sort 
 of landmarks ; and all the other events in the history of 
 the country, before and afterwards, will naturally arrange 
 themselves in reference to them. The memory will strong- 
 ly seize the prominent periods, in consequence of the great 
 interest felt in them ; and the less important parts of the 
 history of the country will be likely to be retained, so 
 far as is necessary, by the aid of the principle of contiguity, 
 and without giving them great attention. Further, his- 
 torical charts or genealogical trees of history are of some 
 assistance for a similar reason, that maps, globes, &c. are 
 in geography. 
 
 This rule for strengthening the memory will apply also 
 
 to the more abstract sciences. " In every science, (says 
 
 Stewart, Elements, ch. vi, §. 3,) the ideas, about which 
 it is peculiarly conversant, are connected together by some 
 associating principle ; in one science, for instance, by asso- 
 ciations founded on the relation of cause and effect ; in 
 another, by the associations founded on the necessary rela- 
 tions of mathematical truths." 
 
 (IV,) — The order J in which things are laid up in the memory 
 should he the order of nature. — In nature every thing has its ap- 
 propriate place, connections, & relations. Nothing is insula- 
 ted, and wholly cut off, as it were, from every thing else; 
 but whatever exists or takes place falls naturally into its 
 allotted position within the great sphere of creation and 
 events, flence the rule, that knowledge, as far forth as 
 
398 MEMORY. 
 
 possible, should exist mentally or subjectively in the same 
 order as the corresponding objective reality exists. The 
 laws of the mind will be found in their operation to act in 
 harmony with the laws of external nature. They are, in 
 some sense, the counterparts of each other. We might il- 
 lustrate the benefits of the application of this rule by re- 
 ferring to almost any well digested scientific article, his- 
 torical narration, poem, &c. But perhaps its full import 
 will be more readily understood by an instance of its ut- 
 ter violation. 
 
 A person was one day boasting, in the presence of Foote 
 the comedian, of the wonderful facility, with which he 
 could commit any thing to memory, when the modern Ar- 
 istophanes said he would write down a dozen lines in 
 prose, which he could not commit to memory in as many 
 minutes. The man of great memory accepted the chal- 
 lenge ; a wager was laid, and Foote produced the follow- 
 ing.— "So she went into the garden to cut a cabbage-leaf 
 to make an apple pie ; and at the same time a great she- 
 bear, coming up the street, pops its head into the shop. 
 What, no soap? So he died,and she very imprudently mar- 
 ried the barber ; and there were present the Piciniunies, 
 andthe Joblillies, and the Garyulies, and the grand Panjan- 
 drum himself, with the little round button at the top ; and 
 they all fell to playing catch as catch can,till the gunpowder 
 ran out of the heels of their boots." — The story adds, that 
 Foote won the wager. And it is very evident, that state- 
 ments of this description, utterly disregarding the order of 
 nature and events, must defy, if carried to any great 
 length, the strongest memory. 
 
 (V,) — The memory may be strengthened by exercise. — Our 
 minds, when left to sloth and inactivity, lose all their vig- 
 our ; but when they are kept in exercise, and, after per- 
 forming what was before them, are tasked with new requi- 
 sitions, it is not easy to assign limits to their ability. This 
 seems to be a general and ultimate law of our nature. 
 It is applicable equally to every original susceptibility, 
 and to every combination of mental action. In repeated 
 instances we have had occasion to refer to its results, both 
 
MEMORY. 399 
 
 on the body and the mind. The power of perception is 
 found to acquire strength and acuteness by exercise. 
 There are habits of conception and of association, as well 
 as of perception ; and we shall be able to detect the exis- 
 tence and operation of the same great principle, when we 
 come to speak of reasoning, imagination, &c. As this 
 principle applies equally to the memory, we are able to 
 secure its beneficial results, by practising that repetition 
 or exercise, on which they are founded. 
 
CHAPTER SIXTH, 
 
 DURATION OF MEMORY. 
 
 §. 304. Restoration oj thoughts and feelings, supposed to be en- 
 tirely forgotten. 
 
 Before quitting tHe subject of memory, there is anoth- 
 er point of view'j not wholly wanting in interest, in which 
 it is susceptible of being considered ; and that is the per- 
 manency or duration of its power to call up its past expe- 
 riences. It is said to have been an opinion of Lord Bacon, 
 that no thoughts are lost, that they continue virtually to 
 exist, and that the soul possesses within itself laws, which, 
 whenever fully brought into action, will be found capable 
 of producing the prompt and perfect restoration of the 
 collected acts and feelings of its whole past existence. 
 
 This opinion, which other able writers have fallen in 
 with, is clearly worthy of examination, especially when 
 we consider, that it has a practical bearing, and involves 
 important moral and religious consequences. Some one 
 will perhaps inquire, is it possible, is it in the nature of 
 things, that we should be able to recall the million of lit- 
 tle acts and feelings, which have transpired in the wiiolc 
 course of our lives ? Let such an inquirer be induced to 
 consider, in the first place, that the memory has its fixed 
 laws, in virtue of which the mental exercises are recalled ; 
 and that there can be found no direct and satisfactory 
 proof of such laws ever wholly ceasing to exist. That 
 
DURATION OF MEMORY. 491 
 
 the operation of those laws appears to be weakened, and 
 is in fact weakened, by lapse of time, is admitted; but 
 while the frequency, promptness, and strength of their ac- 
 tion may be diminished in any assignable degree, the 
 laws themselves yet remain. This is the view of the 
 subjeci, which at first obviously and plainly presents it- 
 self; and we may venture to add, is recommended by 
 common experience. 
 
 It is known to every one, that thoughts and feelings 
 sometimes unexpectedly recur, which had slumbered in 
 forgetfulness for years. Days and months and years have 
 rolled on ; new scenes and situations occupy us ; and all 
 we felt and saw and experienced in those former days 
 and years appears to be clothed in impenetrable darkness .<^ 
 But suddenly some unexpected event, the sight of a water- 
 fall, of a forest, of a house, a peculiarly pleasant or gloomy 
 day, a mere change of countenance, a word, almost any 
 thing we can imagine, arouses the soul, and gives a new 
 and vigorous turn to its meditations. At such a moment 
 we are astonished at the novel revelations which are made, 
 the recollections which are called forth, the resurrection 
 of withered hopes and perished sorrows, of scenes and 
 companionships, that seemed to be utterly lost. 
 
 " Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, 
 " Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain, 
 " Awake but one, and lo what myriads rise ! 
 " Each stamps its image, as the other flies. 
 
 This is perhaps a faint exhibition of that perfect res- 
 toration of thought, which Bacon and other philosophic 
 minds have supposed to be possible. But, if the state- 
 ment be correct, it is undoubtedly one circumstance 
 among others in support of that sentiment, although of 
 subordinate v/eight. 
 
 §. 305. Mental action quickened by influence on the body. 
 
 The ability of the mind to restore its past experiences 
 depends, in some degree, on the state of the physic- 
 al system. In the preceding chapter it was stated, (and 
 
 51 
 
402 DURATION OF MEMORY. 
 
 some facts were referred to in proof of it,) that there is a 
 connection existing between the mind and the body, and 
 that a reciprocal influence is exercised. It is undoubted- 
 ly true, that the mental action is ordinarily increased or 
 diminished, according as the body is more or less affected. 
 And may not the exercise of the laws of memory be quick- 
 ened, as well as the action of other powers? While it is 
 admited, that an influence on the body exerts an influence 
 on the mind, m.ay it not be true, that this general influence 
 sometimes takes the particular shape of exciting the recol- 
 lection, and of restoring long-past events ? 
 
 There are various facts, having a bearing on this inqui- 
 ry, and which seem to show, that such suggestions are 
 •not wholly destitute of foundation. 
 
 It appears from the statements of persons, who have 
 been on the point of drowning, but have been rescued 
 from that situation, that the operations of their minds were 
 peculiarly quickened. In this wonderful activity of the 
 mental principle, the whole past life, with its thousand 
 mii:ute incidents, has almost simultaneously passed before 
 them, and been viewed as in a mirror. Scenes and 
 situations long gone by, and associates not seen for years, 
 and perhaps buried and dissolved in the grave, came rush- 
 ing in upon the field of intellectual vision, in all the activity 
 and distinctness of real existence. 
 
 If such be the general experience in cases of this kind, it 
 confirms a number of important views ; placing beyond 
 doubt, that there is a connection between the mind and 
 body ; that the mental operation is susceptible of being 
 quickened ; and that such increase of action may be attri- 
 butable, in part at least, to an influence on the body. The 
 proximate cause of the great acceleration of the intellectual 
 acts, in cases of drowning, appears to be, (as will be found 
 to be the fact in many other similar cases^) an affection of 
 the brain. That is to say ; in consequence of the suspen- 
 sion of respiration, the blood is prevented from readily 
 circulating through the lungs, and hence becomes accumu- 
 lated in the brain. It would seejn, that the blood is 
 
 1 
 
DURATION OF MEMORY. 403 
 
 never thrown into the brain in iiniisua] quantities^ without 
 being attended with unusual mental affections. 
 
 §. 306. Other instances of quickened menial action and of a 
 restoration of thoughts. 
 
 The doctrine, which has been proposed, that i\\Q men- 
 tal action may be quickened, and Uiat there may be a res- 
 toration or remembrance of all former thoughts and feel- 
 ings, is undoubtedly to be received or rejected in view of 
 facts. The only question in this case as in others is. What 
 is truth } And how are we to arrive at the truth? 
 
 If the facts, which have been referred to, be not enough 
 to enable one to form an opinion, there are others of a like 
 tendency, and in a less uncertain form. A powerful dis- 
 ease, while at some times it prostrates the mind, at others 
 imparts to it a more intense action. The following passage 
 from a recent w^ork, (although the cause of the mental ex- 
 citement, in the instance mentioned in it, is not stated,) may 
 properly be appealed to in this connection. — " Past feel- 
 ings, even should they be those of our earliest moments of 
 infancy, never cease to be under the influence of the law of 
 association, and they are constantly liable to. be Renova- 
 ted, even to the latest period of life, although they may 
 be in so faint a state as not to be the object of consciousness. 
 
 It is evident then, that a cause of mental excitement may 
 so act upon a sequence of extremely faint feelings, as to 
 render ideas, of which the mind had long been previously 
 unconscious, vivid objects of consciousness. Thus it is re- 
 corded of a female in France, that while she was subjected 
 to such an influence, the memory of the Armorican lan- 
 guage, which she had lost since she was a child, suddenly 
 returned."* 
 
 §. 307. Effect on the memory of a severe attack of fever. 
 
 We may add here the following account of the mental 
 affections of an intelligent American traveller. He was 
 travelling in the state of Illinois, and suffered the common 
 lot of visitants from other climates, in being taken down 
 
 * Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions, Pt, IV, ch. 5. 
 
404 
 
 DURATION OF MEMORY. 
 
 with a bilious fever. — '' I am aware, he remarks, that ev- 
 ery sufferer in this way is apt to think his own case extra- 
 ordinary. My physicians agreed with all who saw me, 
 that my case was so. As very few live to record the is- 
 sue of a sickness like mine, and as you have requested me, 
 and as I have promised to be particular, I will relate some 
 of the circumstances of this disease. And it is in my view 
 desirable in the bitter agony of such diseases, that more of 
 the symptoms, sensations, and sufferings should be record- 
 ed than have been ; and that others, in similar predica- 
 ments, may know, that some before them have had suffer- 
 ino"s like theirs, and have survived them. 
 
 I had had a fever before, and had risen and been dress- 
 ed every day. But in this, with the first day I was pros- 
 trated to infantine weakness, and felt with its first attack, 
 that it was a thing very different from what I had yet ex- 
 perienced. Paroxysms of derangement occurred the third 
 day, and this was to me a new state of mind. That state 
 of disease, in which partial derangement is mixed with a 
 consciousness generally sound, and a sensibility prenatu- 
 rally excited, I should suppose the most distressing of all 
 its fornH. At the same time that I was unable to recog- 
 nize my friends, I was informed, that my memory was more 
 than ordinarily exact 8f retentive^ and that I repeated ichole passa- 
 ges in the different languages ^which Ikneiv^with entire accuracy. I 
 recited, without losing or misplacing a loovd^ a passage of poetry., 
 which I could not so repeat, after I had recovered my health,'^'' 
 
 &fC,\ 
 
 §. 303. Illustrations of these views from Coleridge. 
 
 An opinion favourable to the doctrine of the durabili- 
 ty of memory and the ultimate restoration of thought and 
 feeling, is expressed in theBioGRAPHiA Literaria of S.T. 
 Coleridge, in an article on the Laws of association. In con- 
 firmation of it, the writer introduces a statement of cer- 
 tain facts, which became known to him in a tour in Ger- 
 many in 1798, to the following effect. 
 
 t Flint's recoUectioos ofthe Valley of the Mississippi, Letter 14. 
 
DURATION OF MEMORY. 405 
 
 In a Catholic town of Germany, a young woman of 
 four or fi^e and twenty, who could neither read nor write, 
 was seize! with a nervous fever, during which she was in- 
 cessantly talking Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, with much 
 pomp and distinctness of enunciation. The case attracted 
 much attention, and many sentences, which she uttered, 
 being takm down by some learned persons present, were 
 found to 36 coherent and intelligible, each for itself, but 
 vith little or no connection with each other. Of the He- 
 brew only a small portion could be traced to the Bible ; 
 the lemainder was that form of Hebrew, which is usually 
 callec Rabbinic. Ignorant, and simple, and harmless, as 
 this pung woman was known to be, no one suspected any 
 decejion ; and no explanation could for a long time be 
 givei^ although inquiries were made for that purpose, in 
 diffei^t families, where she had resided, as a servant. 
 
 Trough the zeal, however, and philosophical spirit of 
 a yoiig physician, all the necessary information was in 
 the ej\ obtained. The woman was of poor parents, and 
 at nin^ears of age had been kindly taken to be brought 
 up byn old Protestant minister, who lived at some dis- 
 tance. He was a very learned man ; being not only a 
 great lebraist, but acquainted also with Rabbinical wri- 
 tings, ^e Greek and Latin Fathers, &c. The passages? 
 whichiad been taken down in the delirious ravings of the 
 youngwoman were found by the physician precisely to 
 agree ith passages in some books in those languages, 
 which lad formerly belonged to him. But these facts 
 were i^t a full explanation of the case. It appeared on 
 furthemquiry, that the patriarchal protestant had been 
 in the Kbit for many years of walking up and down a pas- 
 sage of his house, into which the kitchen door opened, 
 and to jad to himself with a loud voice, out of his fa- 
 vourite >ooks. This attracted the notice of the poor and 
 ignorantdomestic, whom he had taken into his family ; 
 the passjges made an impression on her memory ; and 
 although probably for a long time beyond the reach of 
 her recollection when in health, they were at last vividly 
 restored, and were uttered in the way above-mentioned. 
 
406 DURATION OF MEMORY. 
 
 in consequence of the feverish state of the physical system ; 
 particularly of the brain. 
 
 From this instance, and from several othei-s of the 
 same kind, which Mr. Coleridge asserts can be brcught up, 
 he is inclined to educe the following positions ot inferen- 
 ces. (1) Our thoughts may, for an indefinite lime, ex- 
 ist in the same order, in which they existed o("iginally, 
 and in a latent or imperceptible state. (2) Aj a fever- 
 ish state of the brain, (and of course any other peculiari- 
 ty in the bodily condition,) cannot create thought itself 
 nor make any approximation to it, but can only oprate 
 as an excitement or quickener to the intellectual pind- 
 ple ; it is, therefore, probable, that all thoughts ae, in 
 themselves, imperishable. (3) In order greatly 3 in- 
 crease the power of the intellect, he supposes it woid re- 
 quire only a different organization of its material fcom- 
 
 paniment. (4) And, therefore, he concludes thbook 
 
 ©f final judgment, which, the Scriptures inform us*villat 
 the last day be presented before the individuals of le hu- 
 man race, may be no other, than the investmeiit)f the 
 soul with a celestial instead of a terrestrial body ; ad that 
 this may be sufiicient to restore the perfect recordof the 
 multitude of its past experiences. He supposes, t may 
 be altogether consistent with the nature of a livin| spirit, 
 that heaven and earth should sooner pass away, tin that 
 a single act, or thought, should be loosened and esctual- 
 ly struck off from the great chain of its operatios. — In 
 giving these conclusions, the exact language of thwriter 
 has not been followed, but the statement madcwill be 
 found to give what clearly seems to have been h mean- 
 ing. 
 
 §. 303. Jlpplication of the principles of this chapier to eucation. 
 
 Whether the considerations, which have been n'ought 
 forward, lead satisfactorily to the conclusions of t:e dura- 
 bility of memory and of the possible restoratioi of all 
 mental exercises, must of course be submitted o each 
 one's private judgment. But on the supposition, that 
 they do, it must occur to every one, that certain practical 
 
DURATION OF MEMORY. 407 
 
 applications closely connect themselves with this subject. — 
 The principle in question has, among other things, a bear- 
 ing 3n the education of the young ; furnishing a new rea- 
 son for the utmost circumspection in conducting it. The 
 tern education, in application to the human mind, is ve- 
 ry (Xtensive ; it includes the example and advice of parents, 
 anc the influence of associates, as well as more direct and 
 fornal instruction. Now if the doctrine under consider- 
 aticn be true, it follows that a single remark of a profli- 
 gat« and injurious tendency, made by a parent or some 
 othtr person in the presence of a child, though forgotten 
 andieglected at the time, maybe suddenly and vividly re- 
 calhd some twenty, thirty, or even forty years after. It 
 ma^ be restored to the mind by a m.ultitude qf unforeseen 
 cir;umstances, and even those of the most trifling kind ; 
 ani even at the late period, when the voice, that uttered it, 
 is ilent in the grave, may exert a most pernicious influ- 
 ene. It may lead to unkindness ; it may be seized and 
 chirished as a justification of secret moral and religious 
 delnquencies; it may prompt to a violation of public laws; 
 ant in a multitude of ways conduct to sin, to ignominy, 
 anc wretchedness. Great care, therefore, ought to be ta- 
 kennotto utter unadvised, false, and evil sentiments in the 
 heading of the young, in the vain expectation that they wil^ 
 do .10 hurt, because they will be speedily and irrecoverably 
 los:. 
 
 And for the same reason, great care and pains should 
 be taken to introduce truth into the mind, and all correct 
 moral and religious principles. Suitably impress on the 
 mind of a child, the existence of a God and his parental 
 authority ; teach the pure and benevolent outlines of the 
 Redeemer's character, and the great truths and hopes of 
 the Gospel ; and these instructions form essential links in 
 the grand chain of memory, which no change of circum- 
 stances, nor lapse of time, nor combination of power can 
 ever wholly strike out. They have their place assigned 
 them ; and though they may be concealed, they cannot be 
 obliterated. Perhaps in the hour of temptation to crime, 
 they come forth like forms and voices from the dead, and 
 
408 
 
 DURATION OF MEMORY. 
 
 with more than their original freshness and power ; per- 
 haps in the hour of misfortune, in the prison-house, dc in 
 the land of banishment, they pay their visitations, ^nd 
 impart consolation, which nothing else could have |up- 
 plied ; they come with the angel tones of parental re- 
 proof and love, and preserve the purity, and check the des- 
 pondency of the soul. 
 
 §. 310. Connection of this doctrine with the final judgmal 
 and a future life. 
 
 There remains one remark more, of a practical na- 
 ture, to be made. The views, which have been pro- 
 posed in respect to the ultimate restoration of all meUal 
 experiences, ^nay be regarded as in accordance with the 
 Divine Word. It may be safely affirmed, that no meital 
 principle, which, on a fair interpretation, is laid downiin 
 that sacred book, will be found to be at varianx^e wih 
 the common experience of mankind. The doctrine of 
 the Bible, in respect to a future judgment, may well be 
 supposed to involve considerations, relative to man's n- 
 tellectual and moral condition. In various passages, he 
 Scriptures plainly and explicitly teach, that the Saviour in 
 the last day shall judge the world, and that all shall be 
 judged according to the deeds done in the body, whetjier 
 they be good, or whether they be evil. But an objection 
 has sometimes been raised of this sort, that we can ncTcr 
 feel the justice of that decision without a knowledge of our 
 whole past life, on which it is founded, and that this is 
 impossible. It was probably this objection, that Mr. 
 Coleridge had in view, when he proposed the opinion,that 
 the clothing of the soul with a celestial, instead of a terres- 
 trial body, would be sufficient to restore the perfect record 
 of its past experiences. 
 
 In reference to this objection to the scriptural doctrine 
 of a final judgment, the remark naturally presents itself, 
 that it seems to derive its plausibility chiefly from an im- 
 perfect view of the constitution of the human mind. It is 
 thought, that we cannot be conscious of our whole past 
 life, because it is utterly forgotten, and is, thcreforc,wholly 
 
DURATION OF MEMORY. 409 
 
 irrecoverable. But the truth seems to be, that nothing is 
 loholly forgotten ; the probability, that we shall be able to 
 recall our past thoughts, may be greatly diminished, but it 
 does not become wholly extinct. The power of remin- 
 iscence slumbers, but does not die. At the judgment-day, 
 we are entirely at liberty to suppose from what we know 
 of the mind, that it will awake, and will clearly present 
 before us the perfect form and representation of the past ; 
 so that each one shall read for himself his own sentence, 
 and be satisfied of its justice. 
 
 We may venture to assert, that there is not only noth- 
 ing in the nature of the human mind adverse to this sup- 
 position ; but on the contrary, that the various facts,which 
 have been referred to, are much in its favour. They 
 show not merely that there is a possibility of all our past 
 experiences being recalled, but also that there is no want of 
 causes, by which what is possible may be converted in- 
 to reality. And if that be the case, it is not necessary 
 to suppose, as many people appear to do, that the multi- 
 tude of our good and evil thoughts can be preserved and 
 ultimately brought out, only by being laid up in the 
 memory of the Supreme Being. The human mind itself 
 is a safe repository. The soul of every man is a world in 
 itself, complete in all its parts, in all its laws, and powers, 
 and experiences ; which nothing but the command of Jts 
 Creator can permanently sever, and annihilate. 
 
CHAPTER SEVENTH. 
 
 REASONING. 
 
 §. 3il. The reasoning power a source of neio ideas. 
 
 We are next to consider the reasoning power, which 
 is also one of the distinct sources of internal knowledge. 
 For our knowledge of this faculty itself, we are in- 
 debted to Consciousness, as was remarked at §. 274. "The 
 names of all intellectual powers and operations are expres- 
 sive of the subjects of our consciousness. Among oth- 
 ers; the terms, thinking, attending, remembering, com- 
 paring, judging, abstracting, reasoning, imagining, &c." 
 Although, therefore, we may say with no want of proprie- 
 ty, that consciousness gives us a knowledge of the mental 
 acts involved in any process of reasoning, yet that process 
 is of itself a source of new views, of new ideas, of new 
 knowledge. 
 
 Nor is this a novel doctrine. It was proposed by some 
 of the Greek philosophers ; it was advocated by the learn- 
 ed Cudworth ; and has been proposed and maintained by 
 more recent writers both in France and England. A per- 
 son proves, for instance, by a train of reasoning, that the 
 vertical or opposite angles are equal, when two strait lines 
 cross each other. Now in this case, the train of reasoning 
 evidently gives rise to the notion of equality. It is true, 
 that we may have this notion or feeling, when there are 
 only two objects compared together, and when there is 
 
REASONING. 411 
 
 nothing more than a simple act of judgment or relative 
 suo-o-estion. But we have it also, when there are com- 
 bined acts of judgment ; that is to say, when there is a 
 process of reasoning. — Mr. Stewart5(Philos. Essays, First, 
 Ch. Ill,) has this remark ; ^'What Locke calls agreements 
 and disagreements, are, in many instances, simple ideas,of 
 which no analysis can be given ; and of which tfie origin 
 must, therefore, be referred to reason, according to Locke's 
 own doctrine." — Nor are other weighty authorities want- 
 ing. De Gera-udo, {Be la Generation des Connoissances^) after 
 holding up to view, that the Judgment or relative suggestion 
 is a distinct source of knowledge, expressly adds ; " The 
 reasoning faculty also serves to enrich us with ideas ; for 
 there are many relations so complicated or remote, that 
 one act of judgment is not sufficient to discover them. A 
 series of judgments or process of reasoning is therefore ne- 
 cessary." 
 
 But we would not be understood to limit the results of 
 reasoning, considered as a distinct source of knov/ledge, to 
 a few simple conceptions. It brings to light the great 
 principles and hidden truths of nature ; it gives grand and 
 comprehensive views, which could not otherwise be ob- 
 tained ; and invests men, and external things, and events, 
 in their origin and in their consequences, with a new char- 
 acter. 
 
 This subject, however, cannot be pursued here at great 
 length. On the contrary, it is to be remarked here as in re- 
 spect to the memory,that our attention will be more taken up 
 with the faculty itself and its action, than with a consider- 
 ation of its immediate results on the increase of knowledge. 
 
 §.312. Of the object and excellency of reasoning. 
 
 It is one of the traits, (perhaps we are not at liberty to 
 say with some persons, it is one of the evils,) of our nature, 
 that we cannot always perceive the truth intuitively, and 
 at once. In many cases we can approach it only by a con- 
 catenation of thought ; by a progress, oftentimes slow and 
 toilsome, from one step to another. The power of reason- 
 ing, therefore, appears to have been given us, in compas« 
 
412 REASONmO. 
 
 sion to oar weakness, that we may acquire knowledge, 
 whicli otherwise would not be within our reach. 
 
 The excellency of reason is a fruitful subject of reoiark, 
 as undoubtedly it ought to be a rich and permanent source 
 of gratitude. Its value is particularly discoverable in 
 two things, vizj its flexibility and its growth or expan- 
 sion. When we speak of the flexibility of the reason- 
 ing power, we mean to intimate the facility and perfect 
 fitness, with which it can apply itself to the numerous and 
 almost infinitely varied subjects of our knowledge. This 
 remark is perhaps susceptible of illustration, by a slight 
 reference to the instincts of the lower animals. Such in- 
 stincts, according to the usual understanding of their na- 
 ture, imply an original and invariable tendency to do cer- 
 tain things, without previous forethought and deliberation. 
 There are often many specific instincts in the same animal; 
 one perhaps has relation to the season of the year and the 
 time of migration ; another has relation to the nourish- 
 ment and care of its young ; another to the formation of 
 its cell, nest, &c. But whatever the particular form of 
 the instinct, it secures its object promptly, and without 
 mistake. Accordingly it has been observed, that a bird, 
 which has always been confined in a cage, will build,when 
 suitable materials are furnished it, a nest precisely similar 
 to those of its own kind in the woods. It places with the 
 greatest ingenuity the sticks, leaves^ and clay of its frail 
 dwelling, without going through a long process of previ- 
 ous training, and without incurring a debt to others for 
 their assistance. But the instinct, in this and other analo- 
 gous cases, is limited to its one definite object ; it discov- 
 ers an utter inflexibility, neither varying the mode of its 
 action, nor extending its range so as to include other ob- 
 jects. 
 
 It is not so with reason. It applies itself to almost ev- 
 ery thing. It is not easy to designate and limit the vast 
 number of objects in nature, in events, and individual con- 
 duct, where it furnishes its aid, and secures the most 
 beneficial results. It is an instrument equally fitted to in- 
 vestigate the growth of a plant and the formation of a 
 
REASONING. 413 
 
 world ; to regulate the concerns of a single family and to 
 administer the affairs of an empire. 
 
 The excellency of the reasoning power is seen also in 
 its expansion and growth. Instinct appears to be full and 
 perfect at the very first opportunity of its exercise, but 
 there are no such restricted bounds to reasoning;. Though 
 weak at first, it is endlessly progressive. It is seen dis- 
 tinctly at work in the child, that frames his miniature house 
 of small sticks and blocks ; and in the architect, whose 
 scientific views and exquisite labours have resulted in 
 forming edifices, that attract a nation's admiration. But 
 how feeble in the one case ! And how advanced and ex- 
 panded in the other! — -It increases in growth and expansion, 
 as the years'of man roll on ; nor have we reason to sup- 
 pose that even tJeath itself will stay its progress, or di- 
 minish its efficiency. 
 
 §. 313. Definition of reasoni7ig, and oj propositions. 
 
 Reasoning may be defined the mental process or opera- 
 tion, whereby we deduce conclusions from two or more 
 propositions premised. — A train of reasoning may be re- 
 garded, therefore, as a whole ; and as such it is made up 
 of separate and subordinate parts. These elementary parts 
 are usually termed propositions ; and before we can pro- 
 ceed with advantage in the further consideration of rea- 
 soning, it is necessary to go into a brief explanation of 
 them. 
 
 A PROPOSITION has been defined to be a verbal repre- 
 sentation of some perception, act, or affection of the mind. 
 — Accordingly when we speak of a Proposition, we are 
 usually understood to mean some mental perception or 
 combination of perceptions, expressed and laid out before 
 us in words. Although such seems to be the ordinary 
 meaning of the term, we may admit the possibility of 
 propositions existing wholly in the mind, without being 
 expressed in words. Mr. Locke expressly speaks 
 of mental propositions, or those states of mind, 
 where two or more ideas are combined together, pre- 
 

 414 REASONING. 
 
 vious to their being embodied and set forth in the forms of 
 language. 
 
 The parts of the proposition are,— (1) The suEJECT,or 
 thatjconcerning which something is either asserted, or de- 
 nied, commanded, or inquired ; (2) The predicate, or 
 that, which is asserted, denied, commanded, or inquired 
 concerning the subject ; (3) The copula, by which the 
 two other parts are connected. — In these two propositions 
 Caesar was brave. 
 Men are fallible. 
 
 Men and Caesar are the subjects ; fallible and brave are 
 the predicates ; .are and was are the copulas. 
 
 Propositions have been divided,— (1) Into simple or 
 those, whose subject and predicate are composed of sinfyle 
 words, as in this. 
 
 Benevolence is commendable ; 
 
 (2) Into COMPLEX, or those, where the subject and pred- 
 icate consist of a number of words, as in this, 
 
 faithfulness in religion is followed by peace of mind; 
 
 (3) Into MODAL, where the copula is qualified by some 
 word or words, representing the manner or possibility of 
 the agreement or discrepancy between the subject and 
 predicate, as in these, 
 
 Men of learning can exert influence ; 
 Wars may sometimes be just. 
 Propositions, more or less involved, are necessary 
 parts in every process of reasoning. They may be com- 
 , pared to the separate and disjointed blocks of marble,which 
 are destined to enter into the formation of some edifice. 
 The completed process of reasoning is^the edifice ; the pro- 
 positions are the materials. 
 
 §. 314. Process of the mind in all cases of reasoning. 
 
 Leaving the consideration of its subordinate parts or 
 elements, we are further to consider the general nature of 
 reasoning ; in other words, we are to examine the charac- 
 ter of the complex mental process, involved in that term. 
 The definition given of reasoning, it will be remembered, 
 was, That it is the mental process, by which we deduce 
 
REASONING. 415 
 
 a conclusion from two or more propositions premised. 
 Hence there will be in ev6ry such process a succession of 
 propositions, never less than two, and often a much greater 
 number. The propositions often follow each other with 
 miich regularity ; and hence not unfrequently we con- 
 sider the arrangement of them as entirely arbitrary. But 
 this is a mistaken supposition. It is true, when a number 
 of ideas are presented nearly at the same time, the mind 
 puts forth a volition, or exercises choice, in selecting one 
 idea in preference to another. But the ideas, from which 
 the choice is made, and without the presence of v/hich it 
 could not be made, are not caused by volition, and, there- 
 fore, mere arbitrary creations ; but are suggested by the 
 laws of association. 
 
 As an illustration we will suppose an argument on the 
 justice and expediency of capital punishments in ordinary 
 cases. The disputant first denies in general terms the 
 right, which social combinations have assumed of capi- 
 tally punishing offences of a slight nature. But before 
 considering the cases he has particularly in view, he re- 
 marks on the right of capital punishment for murder; and 
 admits, that the principle of self defence gives such a right. 
 He then takes up the case of stealing, and contends, that 
 we have no right to punish the thief with death, because 
 no such right is given by the laws of nature ; for, before 
 the formation of the civil compact, the institution of prop- 
 erty was not known. He then considers the nature of 
 civil society, and contends, that, in the formation of the 
 social compact, no such extraordinary power, as that of 
 putting to death for stealing or other crimes of similar ag- 
 gravation, could have been implied in that compact, be- 
 cause it never was possessed by those, who formed it ; &c. 
 
 Here is an argument, made up of a number of proposi- 
 tion, and carried on, as may be supposed, to very consid- 
 erable length. And in this argument, as in all others, ev- 
 ery proposition is, in the first instance, suggested by the 
 laws of association ; it is not at all a matter of arbitrary 
 volition. The disputant first states the inquiry in general 
 terms; he then considers the particular case of murder; 
 
416 REASONING. 
 
 the crime of theft is next considered ; and this is examined, 
 first, in reference to natural law, and, afterwards, in ref- 
 erence to civil law. — And this consecution of propositions 
 takes place precisely the same, as when the sight of a stran- 
 ger in the crowd suggests the image of an old friend, and 
 the friend suggests the village of his residence, and the vil- 
 lage suggests an ancient ruin in its neighbourhood, and the 
 ruin suggests heroes and battles of other days. — It is true, 
 that other propositions may have been suggested at the 
 same time, and the disputant may have had his choice be- 
 tween them, but this was all the direct power, which he 
 possessed ; and even that in strictness of speech, can hardly 
 be called direct. 
 
 §.315. Grounds of the se lection of propositi07is. 
 
 A number of propositions are presented to the mind by 
 the principles of association ; the person, who carries on 
 the process of reasoning, makes his selection among them. 
 But it is reasonable to inquire, How it happens, that there 
 is such a suitableness or agreement in the propositions, as 
 they are successively adopted into the train of reasoning ? 
 And this seems to be no other than to inquire into the cir- 
 cumstances, under which the choice of them is made, or 
 the grounds of the selection. 
 
 Let it be considered, then, that in all arguments, wheth- 
 er moral or demonstrative, there is some general subject, 
 on which the evidence is made to bear ; there is some point 
 in particular to be examined. In reference to these gener- 
 al outlines, we have a prevailing and permanent desire. 
 This desire is not only a great help in giving quickness and 
 strength to the laws of association ; but exercises also a ve- 
 ry considerable indirect influence in giving an appropri- 
 ate character to the thoughts, which are suggested by those 
 laws. Hence the great body of the propositions, which 
 are at such times brought up, will be found to have great- 
 er or less reference to the general subject. " These are all 
 very rapidly compared by the mind with those outlines, 
 in regard to which its feelings of desire are exercised, or 
 with what we usually term the point to be proved. --Ucie the 
 
REASONING. 417 
 
 mind, in the exercise of that susceptibility of feelings of re- 
 lation, which we have already seen it to possess, immedi- 
 ately discovers the suitableness or want of suitableness, the. 
 agreement or want of agreement of the propositions pre- 
 sented to it, to the general subject. This perception of suit- 
 ableness, which is one of those relative feelings, of which 
 the mind is from its very nature held to be susceptible, 
 exists as an ultimate fact in our mental constitution. All, 
 that can profitably be said in relation to it, is the mere 
 statement of the fact, and of the circumstances, under 
 which it isfoundto exist. Those propositions, which are 
 judged by the mind, in the exercise of that capacity which 
 its Creator has given it, to be agreeable to the general sub- 
 ject or point to be proved, are permitted by it to enter in, 
 as continuous parts of the argument. And in this way a 
 series of propositions rises up, all having reference to one 
 ultimate purpose, regular, appropriate, and in their issue 
 laying the foundation of the different degrees of assent. — 
 This explanation will apply not only to the supposed argu- 
 ment in the last section, which is an instance of moral rea- 
 soninor but 'vvill hold good essentially of all other instances 
 of whatever kind. The difference in the various kinds of 
 reasoning consists less in the mental process, than in the 
 nature of the subjects compared together, and in the con- 
 ditions attending them. 
 
 §. 316. Of differences in the 2)01067' of reasoning. 
 
 The faculty of reasoning exists in different individu- 
 als, in very different degrees. There is the same diversi- 
 ty here, which is found to exist in respect to every other 
 mental susceptibility and mental process. In some per- 
 sons it is not even powerful enough to meet the ordinary 
 exigencies of life, and hardly rescues its possessor from 
 the imputation of idiocy ; in others it elevates human na- 
 ture, and bestows extraordinary grasp and penetration. 
 And between the extremes of extraordinary expansion and 
 marked imbecility, there are multitudes of distinct grades, 
 almost every possible variety. 
 
 This difference depends on various causes. (1) It 
 
 5S 
 
418 REASONING. 
 
 will depend, in the first place, on the amount of knowl- 
 edge, which the reasoner possesses. No man can perma- 
 . nently sustain the reputation of great ability in argument, 
 without having previously secured a large fund of knowl- 
 edge as its basis. And we may add that no man can rea- 
 son well on any given subject, unless he has especially 
 prepared himself in reference to that subject. Ail reason- 
 ing implies a comparison of ideas; or more properly a 
 comparison of propositions, or of facts stated in proposi- 
 tions. Of course, \\^here there is no knowledge on any 
 given subject, where there is no accumulation of facts, 
 there can be no possibility of reasoning ; and where the 
 knowledge is much limited, the plausibility and power of 
 the argument will be proportionally diminished. 
 
 That many speak on subjects, which are proposed to 
 them, without having made any preparation, cannot be 
 denied ; but there is a vast difference between noisy, in- 
 coherent declamation, and a well-wrought argument, made 
 up of suitable propositions, following each other with a 
 direct and satisfactory reference to the conclusion. In ev- 
 ery case of reasoning, the mind passes successively along 
 the various topics, involved in the argument ; and in so 
 doing is governed by the principles of association, as we 
 have already had occasion to notice. But what opportu- 
 nity can there possibly be for the operation of these prin- 
 ciples, when the mind is called to fasten itself upon a sub- 
 ject and to decide upon that subject, without any knowl- 
 edge of those circumstances, which may be directly em- 
 braced in it, or of its relations, and tendencies ? 
 
 (2) The power of reasoning will depend, in the sec- 
 ond place, on the power of attention and memory. 
 
 There are some persons, who seem to have no com- 
 mand of the ATTENTION. Every thing interests them 
 slightly, and nothing in a high degree. They are anima- 
 ted by no strong feeling ; and enter ihto no subject, re- 
 quiring long-continued and abstract investigation, with a 
 suitable intensity of ardour. A defective remembrance 
 of the numerous facts and propositions, which come un- 
 der review, is the natural consequence of this. And this 
 
REASONING. 419 
 
 necessarily implies a perplexed and diminished power of 
 ratiocination. 
 
 (3) A third ground of difference is div^ersity in the suscep- 
 tibility of feeling relations. The remark has already been 
 made, (§. 2S9,) that facts may be accumulated, having 
 close and decisive relations to the points to be proved, but 
 that they can never be so bound together as to result in 
 any conclusion, without a perception or feeling of those 
 relations. But it is well known, whatever it may be ow- 
 ing to, that the relations of objects are much more readi- 
 ly and clearly perceiv^ed by some than by others. As, 
 therefore, every train of reasoning implies a succession or 
 series of relative perceptions, a defect in the power of 
 relative suggestion necessarily implies a defect in the rea- 
 soning power. And on the other hand, a great quickness 
 and clearness, in the perceptions of relations is necessarily 
 attended, (other things being equal,) with an augmented 
 efficiency of reasoning. 
 
 §. 317. Of habits of reasoning . 
 
 But whatever may be the mental traits, that render, in 
 particular cases, the reasoning power more or less efficient, 
 its efficacy will undoubtedly depend, in a great degree, on 
 
 Habit. The effect of frequent practice, resulting in 
 
 what is termed a habit, is often witnessed in those, who 
 follow any mechanic calling, where we find that what was 
 once done with difficulty comes in time to be done with 
 great ease and readiness. The muscles of such persons 
 seem to move with a kind of instinctive facility and accu- - 
 racy in the performance of those works, to which they 
 have been for a long time addicted. 
 
 There is a similar effect of frequent practice in the 
 increase of quickness and facility in our mental opera- 
 tions ; and certainly as much so in those, which are im- 
 plied in reasoning as in any others. If, for instance, a 
 person has never been in the habit of going through geo- 
 metrical demonstrations, he finds his mind very slowly 
 and with difficulty advancing from one step to another ; 
 while on the other hand, a person, who has so often prac- 
 
420 ^ REASONING. 
 
 tised this species of argumentation, as to have formed a 
 habit, advances forward from one part of the train of 
 reasoning to another with great rapidity and delight. 
 And the result is the same in any process of moral reason- 
 ing. In the prosecution of any argument of a moral na- 
 ture, there is necessarily a mental perception of the con- 
 gruity of its several parts, or of the agreement of the suc- 
 ceeding proposition with that which went before. The 
 degree of readiness in bringing together propositions, and 
 in putting forth such perceptions, will greatly depend on 
 the degree of practice. 
 
 , §. 318. Of limitations of the poioer of reasoning. 
 
 We shall prosecute these general views of the subject of 
 reasoning with the further remark, wdiich has perhaps al- 
 ready suggested itself, that this faculty is essentially and 
 permanently circumscribed and limited in certain respects. 
 From the statements, which have been made, it appears, 
 that the great law of association is directly and very ef- 
 fectively concerned in every process of this kind. It is 
 to this law we are indebted for the introduction of propo- 
 sitions, having a bearing upon the subject of inquiry and 
 debate, and suitable to the occasion.. We are no more 
 able by a mere act of volition to secure the existence of 
 applicable and conclusive points in any given argument, 
 than by mere volition to give creation to our thoughts in 
 the first instance. 
 
 Persons, therefore, of the most gifted intellect are held 
 in check, and are restrained by the ultimate principles of 
 their mental constitution. These are boundaries, which 
 they cannot pass ; and men, wdio are capable of the great- 
 est efforts in framing arguments, will be no less sensible of 
 this truth, when they carefully examine the course of 
 their thoughts, than others. 
 
 §. 319. Of reasoning in connection ivith language or expression. 
 
 There is often a want of correspondence between the 
 purely mental process in reasoning and the outward verbal 
 expression of it. When persons are called upon to state 
 
REASONING. 421 
 
 f 
 
 their arguments suddenly and in public debate, they often 
 commit errours, which are at variance with the prevalent 
 opinion of their good sense and mental ability. This is 
 particularly true of men, who are chiefly engaged in the or- 
 dinary business of life, or are in any situation where there 
 is a constant call for action. The conclusions, at which such 
 persons arrive, may be supposed to be generally correct, 
 but they frequently find themselves unable to state clearly 
 and correctly to others the process of reasoning, by which 
 
 they arrived at them. Oliver Cromwell, the famous 
 
 English Protector, is said to have been a person, 
 to whom this etatement would well apply. The compli- 
 cated incidents of his life, and the perplexities of his situa- 
 tion, and his great success sufficiently evince, that he pos- 
 sessed a clear insight into events, and was in no respects 
 deficient in understanding ; but when he attempted to ex- 
 press his opinions in the presence of others, and to explain 
 himself on questions of policy, he was confused and ob- 
 scure. His mind readily insinuated itself into the intrica- 
 cies of a subject, and while he could assert with confidence^ 
 that he had arrived at a satisfactory conclusion, he could 
 not so readily describe either the direction he had taken, 
 or tiie involutions of ttie journey. — "All accounts,says Mr. 
 Hume, agree in ascribing to Cromwell a tiresome, dark, 
 unintelligible elocution, even when he had no intention to 
 disguise his meaning ; yet no man's actions were ever, in 
 such a variety of different cases, more decisive and judi- 
 cious," 
 
 Such instances are not unfrequent. Mr. Stewart 
 somewhere mentions the case of an English officer,a friend 
 of Lord Mansfield, who had been appointed to the govern- 
 ment of Jamaica. The officer expressed some doubts of 
 his competency to preside in the court of chancery. 
 Mansfield assured him, that he would not find the difficul- 
 ty so great as he imagined, "Trust, said he, to your 
 
 own good sense in forming your opinions, but beware cff 
 stating the grounds of your judgments. The judgments 
 will probably be right ; the arguments will infallibly be 
 
422 REASONING. 
 
 The perplexity, which is so often experienced by men 
 engaged in active life, in giving a prompt and correct verbal 
 expression to the internal trains of thought, is probably 
 owing in part to a want of practice of that kind, and in 
 part to certain mental habits, which they have been led, 
 from their situation, to form and strengthen. In a thou- 
 sand emergencies they have been obliged to act with 
 quickness, and at the same time with caution ; in 
 other words, to examine subjects, and to do it with 
 expedition. In this way they have acquired ex- 
 ceeding readiness in all their mental acts. The conse- 
 quence of this isjthat the numerous minute circumstances, 
 involved more or less in all subjects of difficult inquiry, 
 are passed in review with such rapidity, and are made in 
 so very small a degree the objects of separate attention, 
 that they vanish, and are forgotten. Hence these persons, 
 although the conclusion to which thay have come be sat- 
 isfactory, are unable to state to others all the subordinate 
 steps in the argument. Every thing has once been dis- 
 tinctly and fairly before their own minds, although with 
 that great rapidity, which is always implied in a habit ; 
 but their argument, as stated in words, owing to their ina- 
 bility to arrest and embody all the evanescent processes of 
 ^houghtj appears to others defective and confused . 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTH, 
 
 DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 
 
 §. 320. Of the subjects of demonstrative reasoning. 
 
 In the remarks, which have hitherto been made, the 
 subject of reasoning has been taken up in the most general 
 point of view. The considerations, that have been propo- 
 sed, are applicable, in the main, to reasoning in all its 
 forms. But it is necessary, in order to possess a more full 
 and satisfactory conception of this subject, to examine it 
 under the two prominent heads of Moral and Demonstra- 
 tive. 
 
 There are various particulars, in which moral and de- 
 monstrative reasoning differ from each other ; and the con- 
 sideration of which will suggest more fully their distinc- 
 tive nature. Among other things, demonstrative reasoning 
 differs from any other species of reasoning in the subjects, 
 about which it is employed. The subjects are abstract 
 ideas, and the necessary relations among them. Those 
 ideas or thoughts are called abstract, which are represen- 
 tative of such qualities and properties in objects as can be 
 distinctly examined by the mind separate from other qual- 
 ities and properties, with which they are commonly united. 
 And there may be reckoned, as coming within this class 
 of subjects, the properties of numbers and of geometrical 
 figures ; also extension, duration, weight, velocity, forces, 
 
424 DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 
 
 &c., so far as they are susceptible of being accurately ex- 
 pressed by numbers, or other mathematical signs. But 
 the subjects of moral reasoning, upon which we are to re- 
 mark hereafter more particularly, are matters of fact, in- 
 cluding their connection with other facts, whether con- 
 stant or variable, and all attendant circumstances. — That 
 the exterior angle of a triangle is equal to both the interi- 
 or and opposite angles, is a truth, which comes within the 
 province of demonstration. That Homer was the author 
 of the Iliad, that Xerxes invaded Greece, &c. are inquiries, 
 belonging to moral reasoning. 
 
 §. 321 . Use of definitions and axioms in demonstrative reasoning. 
 
 In every process of reasoning there must be at the com- 
 mencement of it something to be proved ; there must also 
 be somethings either known, or taken for granted as such, 
 wdth which the comparison of the propositions begins. 
 The preliminary truths in demonstrative reasonings are in- 
 volved in such definitions as are found in all mathemati_ 
 cal treatises. It is impossible to give a demonstration of 
 the properties of a circle, parabola, ellipse, or other math- 
 ematical figure, without first having given a definition of 
 them. Definitions, therefore, are the facts assumed, the 
 FIRST PRINCIPLES in demonstrative reasoning, from which 
 by means of the subsequent steps the conclusion is deri- 
 ved. We find something entirely similar in respect to 
 
 subjects, which admit of the application of a different form 
 of reasoning. Thus in Natural Philosophy, the general 
 facts in relation to the gravity and elasticity of the air 
 may be considered as first principles. From these princi- 
 ples in Physics are deduced, as consequences, the suspen- 
 sion of the mercury in the barometer, and its fall, when 
 carried up to an eminence. 
 
 We must not forget here the use of axioms in the dem- 
 onstrations of mathematics. Axioms are certain self-evi- 
 dent propositions, or propositions, the truth of which is 
 discovered by intuition, such as the following ; ^'Things, 
 equal to the same, are equal to one another ;" From equals 
 take away equals, and equals remain." We generally find 
 
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. . 423 
 
 a number of them prefixed to treatises of geometry, and it 
 lias been a mistaken supposition, which has long pre- 
 vailed, that they are at the foundation of geometrical, and 
 of all other demonstrative reasoning. But axioms, taken 
 by themselves, lead to no conclusions. With their assis- 
 tance alone, it cannot be denied, that the truth involved 
 in propositions susceptible of demonstrationj would have 
 been beyond our reach. (See §. 279.) 
 
 But axioms are by no means without their use, although 
 their nature may have been misunderstood. They are 
 properly and originally intuitive perceptions of the truth, 
 and whether they be expressed in words, as we generally 
 find them, or not, is of but little consequence, except as a 
 matter of convenience to beginners, and in giving instruc- 
 tion. But those intuitive perceptions, which are always 
 implied in them, are essential helps ; and if by their aid 
 alone we should be unable to complete a demonstration, 
 we should be equally unable without them. We begin 
 with definitions ; we compare together successively a num- 
 ber of propositions ; and these intuitive perceptions of 
 their agreement or disagreement, to which, when express- 
 ed in wordsj we give the name of axioms, attend us at 
 every step. 
 
 §. 322. The opposites of demonstrative reasoning absurd. 
 
 In demonstrations we consider only one side of a ques- 
 tion ; it is not necessary to do any thing more than this. 
 The first principles in the reasoning are given ; they are 
 not only supposed to-be certain, but they are assumed as 
 such ; these are followed by a number of propositions in 
 succession, all of which are compared together ; if the con- 
 clusion be a demonstrative one, then there has been a 
 clear perception of certainty at every step in the train. 
 Whatever may be urged against an argument thus con- 
 ducted is of no consequence ; the opposite of it will al- 
 ways imply some fallacy. Thus, the proposition, that*the 
 three angles of a triangle are not ecjual to two right angles, 
 and other propositions, which are the opposite of what has 
 been demonstrated, will always be found to be false, and 
 54 
 
■42 6 DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 
 
 also to involve an absurdity ; that is, are inconsistent with, 
 and contradictory to themselves. 
 
 Bat it is not so in Moral Reasoning. And here, there- 
 fore, we find a marked distinction between the two great 
 forms of ratiocination. We may arrive at a conclusion on 
 a moral subject with a great degree of certainty ; not a 
 doubt may be left in the mind ; and yet the opposite of 
 
 * that conclusion may be altogether within the limits of pos- 
 sibility. "We have, for instance, the most satisfactory evi- 
 dence, that the sun rose to-day, but the opposite might have 
 
 liheen true without any inconsistency or contradiction, viz, 
 That the sun did not rise. But on a thorough examina- 
 tion of a demonstrative process, we shall find ourselves 
 unable to admit even the possibility of the opposite. 
 
 §. 323. Demonstrative reasonings do not admit of different 
 degrees of belief. 
 
 When our thoughts are employed upon subjects, which 
 come within the province of moral reasoning, we yield dif- 
 ferent degrees of assent ; v^e form opinions more or less 
 probable. Sometimes our belief is of the lowest kind ; 
 nothing more than mere presumption. New evidence 
 gives it new strength ; and it may go on from one degree 
 of strength to another, till all doubt is excluded, and all 
 
 • possibility of mistake shut out. 
 
 It is different in demonstrations ; the assent, which we 
 yield, is at all times of the highest kind, and is never sus- 
 ceptible of beingvregarded as more or less. In short, all 
 
 demonstrations are certain. But a question first arises, 
 
 What is certainty ? (See §. 64.) And again. What in par- 
 ticular do we understand by that certainty, which is ascri- 
 bed to the conclusions, to which we are conducted in any 
 process of demonstrative reasoning ? 
 
 §. 324. Of the nature of demonstrative certainty. 
 
 In proceeding to answer this inquiry, it is again to be 
 observed, that in demonstrative reasonings we always be- 
 gin with certain first principles or truths, either known, 
 or taken for granted ; and these hold the first place, or are 
 
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 427 
 
 the foundation of that series of propositions, over which 
 the mind successively passes, until it rests in the conclu- 
 sion. In mathematics the first principles, of v/nich we 
 here speak, are the definitions. 
 
 We begin, therefore, with what is acknowledged by all 
 to be true or certain. At every step there is an intuitive 
 perception of the agreement or disagreement of the propo- 
 sitions, which are compared together. Consequently, 
 however far we may advance in the comparison of them, 
 :here is no possibility of falling short of that degree of as- 
 sent with which it is acknowledged, that the series com- 
 menced. So that demonstrative certainty may be judg- 
 ed to amount to this. Whenever we arrive at the last step 
 or the conclusion of a series of propositions, the mind in 
 effect intuitively perceives the relation, whether it be the 
 agreement or disagreement, coincidence or want of coinci- 
 dence, between the last step or the conclusion, and the 
 conditions involved in the propositions at the commence- 
 ment of the series ; and, therefore, demonstrative certainty 
 is virtually the same as the certainty of intuition. Al- 
 though it arises on a different occasion, and is, therefore, 
 entitled to a separate consideration, there is no difference 
 in the degree of the belief. 
 
 §. 325. Of the use of diagrams in demonstrations. 
 
 Mr. Locke has advanced the opinion, that moral sub- 
 jects are no less susceptible of demonstration, than math- 
 ematical. However this may be, we are certainly more 
 frequently required to practice this species of reasoning in 
 the mathematics, than any where else ; and in conducting 
 the process, nothing is more common, than to make use 
 of various kinds of figures or diagrams. — The proper use 
 of diagrams, of a square, circle, triangle, or other figure, 
 which we delineate before us, is to assist the mind in keep- 
 ing its ideas distinct, and to help in comparing them to- 
 gether with readiness and correctness. They are a sort of 
 auxiliaries, brought in to the help of our intellectual infirm- 
 ities, but are not absolutely necessary ; since demonstra- 
 tive reasoning, wherever it may be found, resembles any 
 
42S 
 
 DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 
 
 other kind of reasoning, in this most important respect, viz. 
 in being a comparison of onr ideas. 
 
 In proof that artificial diagrams are only auxiliaries, 
 and are not essentially necessary in demonstrations, it may 
 be remarked, that they are necessarily all of them imper- 
 fect. It is not within the capability of the wit and the 
 power of man to frame a perfect circle, or a perfect trian- 
 gle, or any other figure, which is perfect. We might ar- 
 gue this from our general knowledge of the imperfection 
 of the senses ; and we may almost regard it as a matter, 
 determined by experiment of the senses themselves, aided 
 by optical instruments. " There never was (says Cud- 
 worth,) a strait line, triangle, or circle, that we saw in all 
 our lives, that was mathematically exact, but even sense it- 
 self, at least by the help of microscopes, might plainly dis- 
 cover much uneveness, ruggedness, flexuosity, angulosity, 
 irregularity, and deformity in them.'''^ 
 
 Our reasonings, therefore, and our conclusions will not 
 apply to the figures before us, but merely to an imagined 
 perfect figure. The mind can not only originate a figure 
 internally and subjectively, but can ascribe to it the attri- 
 bute of perfection. And a verbal statement of the proper- 
 ties of this imagined perfect figure is what we understand 
 by a DEFINITION, the use of which in this kind of reasoning 
 in particular has already been mentioned. 
 
 §. 326. Of signs in general as connected ivith reasoning. 
 
 The statements in the last section will appear the less 
 exceptionable, when it is recollected, that in all cases rea- 
 soning is purely a mental process. From beginning to end, 
 it is a succession of feelings. Neither mathematical signs, 
 nor words constitute the process, but are only its atten- 
 dants and auxiliaries. We can reason without diagrams 
 or other signs employed in mathematics, the same as an 
 infant reasons, before it has learnt artificial language. 
 
 When the infant has once put his finger in the fire, he 
 avoids the repetition of the experiment, reasoning in this 
 way, that there is a resemblance between one flame and 
 janother, and that what has once caused him pain, will bo 
 
 *T realise concerning' Immutable Morality, Bk. IV, Ch. S. 
 
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 429 
 
 Jikely under the same circumstances to cause the same 
 sensation. When the infant sees before him some slitter- 
 ing toy, he reaches his hand towards it, and is evidently 
 induced to do so by a thought of this kind, that the acqui- 
 sition of the object will soon follow the effort of the hand, 
 as it has a similar effort previously made. ^Here is rea- 
 soning without words ; it is purely internal ; nevertheless 
 no one will presume to say, that words are not great helps 
 in reasoning. And thus in demonstrative reasoning, al- 
 though diagrams, and numerical and [algebraic signs are 
 assistances, they do not constitute the process ; nor can it 
 be even said, that they are indispensably essential to it. 
 "Some geometricians, (says Buffier, First Truths, Pt. I, 
 Ch. 6,) are led into a palpable errour, in imagining that 
 things demonstrated by Geometry exist, out of their 
 thought, exactly similar to the demonstration formed of 
 them in their mind. They must be quickly sensible of 
 their mistake, if they will but reflect a moment on the 
 perfect globe, the imaginary properties of which are de- 
 monstrated in Geometry, though the thing itself has no 
 real existence in nature. Geometry shews nothing of the 
 existence of things, but only what they are, supposing them 
 to exist really such as they are conceived by the mind. 
 And indeed, were all created things existing annihilated, 
 geometry would not lose a single point of its demonstra- 
 tion ; the circle would still remain a round figure, of 
 which all the points of circumference would be equally 
 distant from the centre." 
 
 §. 327. Of the influence of demonstrative reasoning on the 
 mental character. 
 
 A considerable skill in demonstrative reasoning is on a 
 number of accounts desirable, although it cannot be de- 
 nied, that very frequent practice and great readiness in it 
 is not always favorable ; so that it seems proper briefly 
 to mention the effects, both propitious and unpropitious, 
 on the mental character. 
 
 (1) A frequency of practice in demonstrative reasoning 
 greatly aids in giving one a ready command of his atten- 
 
430 
 
 DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 
 
 tion. — In this species of reasoning, the propositions follow 
 each other in such regular order and so closely, and so 
 great is the importance of perceiving the agreement or 
 disagreement of each succeeding one with that, which 
 goes before ; that a careless, linfixed, and dissipated state 
 of the mind'seems to be utterly inconsistent Avith carrying 
 on such a process with any sort of success to the conclu- 
 sion. As, therefore, the strictest attention is here so high- 
 ly necessary, the more a person subjects himself to this dis- 
 cipline, the more ready and efficient will be the particular 
 application of the mind, to which we give that name. And 
 we often find distinguished individuals in politicaKlife and 
 in the practice of the law, who are desirous of holding 
 their mental powers in the most prompt and systematic 
 obedience, imposing on themselves exercises in geometry 
 and algebra for this purpose. 
 
 (11) This mode of reasoning accustoms one to care 
 
 and discrimination in the examination of subjects. In all 
 
 discussions, where the object is to find out the truth, it is 
 necessary to take asunder all the parts, having relation to 
 the general subject, and bestow upon them a share of our 
 consideration. And in general we fiiid no people more 
 disposed to do this than mathematicians ; they are not 
 fond of reasoning as Mr. Locke expresses it, in the lump, 
 but are for going into particulars, for allowing every thing 
 its due weight and nothing more, and for resolutely throw- 
 ing out of the estimate all propositions, which are not di- 
 rectly and truly to the point. — It must further be said, as 
 a general remark closely connected wi^h what h&s just 
 been observed, that those departm'ents of science, which 
 require demonstrative reasoning, are promotive of a char- 
 acteristic of great value, — a love of the truth. 
 
 (Ill) Demonstrative reasoning gives to the mind a great- 
 er grasp or comprehension. This result, it is true, will 
 not be experienced in the case of those, who have merely 
 exercised themselves, in the study of a few select demon- 
 strations ; it implies a familiarity of the mind with long 
 and complicated trains of deductions. A thorough math- 
 ematician, who has made it a business to exercise himself 
 
DEMONSTBATIVE REASONING. 431 
 
 in this method of reasoning, can hardly have been other- 
 wise than sensible of that intellectual comprehension, or 
 length and breadth of survey, which we have in view ; 
 since one demonstration is often connected with another, 
 much in the same way as the subordinate parts of separate 
 demonstrations are connected with each other ; and he, 
 therefore, finds it necessary, if he would go on with satis- 
 faction and pleasure, to gather up and retain, in the grasp 
 of his mind, all the general and subordinate propositions 
 of a long treatise. 
 
 §. 328. Further considerations on the influence of demon- 
 strative reasoning. 
 
 But on the other hand, there are some results of a very 
 great attention to sciences, which require the exclusive ap- 
 plication of demonstrative reasoning, of a less favourable 
 kind. 
 
 (I) It has been thought among other things, that this 
 form of reasoning, when carried to a great length, has a 
 tendency to render the mind mechanical. That is, while 
 it increases its ability of acting in a given way, it dimin- 
 ishes the power of invention, and prevents its striking out 
 into a new path, different from that, which it has been in 
 the habit of going over. And hence it is, that men of the 
 strictest virtue and the most powerful intellect have some- 
 times discovered an unexpected weakness, and made ex- 
 traordinary mistakes, when placed in certain new situa- 
 tions. We may illustrate our meaning by a single in- 
 stance, although perhaps not one of the strongest kind. 
 The celebrated Turgot, who combined the purest moral 
 sentiments with the rarest intellectual endowments, was 
 what may be termed a mathematical politician. History 
 has recorded the result. When the king of France call- 
 ed him to direct the political concerns of the French em- 
 pire, he decidedly failed, where half the talents and in- 
 tegrity had firmly held the helm amid political tempests. 
 That great and virtuous mind, when called away from 
 the abstractions of science to deal with the realities of life 
 and mankind, which prejudice and passion, weakness and 
 
432 
 
 DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING 
 
 power, interest and suffering presented before him, found 
 too late, that we cannot estimate the intellect as we can 
 estimate the arc of a circle, and that the calculus, which 
 can measure the flight and eccentricities of the stars, may 
 not succeed in ascertaining the momentum and the obli- 
 quities of human nature. 
 
 (II) An exclusive culture of demonstrative rea^soning 
 nourishes a spirit of scepticism ; or perhaps we may say, 
 diminishes the power of belief. The exclusive mathema- 
 tician has been accustomed to yield his assent to demon- 
 stration only ; audit is but natural, that he should find 
 some difficulty in being satisfied with any lower degree of 
 evidence. This disposition to doubt will be, in some mea- 
 sure, experienced, even in the transition from pure tomix- 
 ed mathematics ; at least there will be an absence of that 
 full and delighted satisfaction, which had hitherto been 
 enjoyed. Still more will it be felt, when he is called upon 
 to judge of events, and duties, and actions of common 
 life, which do not admit of the application of demonstra- 
 tion. In a word, it has been supposed to unfit the 
 
 mind in a considerable degree for accurate discriminations 
 as to moral evidence on all subjects whatever, where that 
 species of evidence is alone admissible ; and also for fair 
 and correct judgments in matters of taste. 
 
 Such, on the whole, being the result of an exclusive 
 attention to sciences, which admit of demonstration alone, 
 a restricted pursuit of them is all, that can be safely re- 
 commended. In making this remark, however, it is not 
 meant, that we would absolutely set limits to the prose- 
 cution of them, but would only propose, that other 
 modes of mental discipline should be prosecuted at the 
 same time. Those who ajm at a perfect education, will 
 not ^'canton out to themselves a little Goshen in the in- 
 tellectual world," which is to receive all their labours, 
 and leave the rest of the vast field of the mind to neg- 
 lect, but will bestow a suitable share of culture on every 
 part of it. 
 
CHAPTER NINTH 
 
 MORAL REASONING. 
 
 §. 329. Of the subjects and- importance oj moral reasoning , 
 
 Moral reasoning, which is the second great division 
 or kind of reasoning, concerns opinions, actions, events 
 &c.; embracing in general those subjects, which do not 
 come within the province of demonstrative reasoning. 
 The subjects, to which it relates, are often briefly expressed 
 by saying, that they are matters of fact ; nor would this de- 
 finition, concise as it is, be likely to give an erroneous idea 
 
 of them.- Skill in this kind of reasoning is of great use 
 
 in the formation of opinions concerning the duties, and the 
 general conduct of life. Some may be apt to think, that 
 those, who have been most practised in demonstrative rea- 
 soning, can find no difficulty in adapting their intellectual 
 habits to matters of mere probability. This opinion is not 
 altogether well founded, as we have seen in the preceding 
 chapter. Although that species of reasoning has a favour- 
 able result in giving persons a command over the attention, 
 and in some other respects, whenever exclusively employed 
 it has the effect in some degree to disqualify them for a cor- 
 rect judgment on those various subjects, which properly 
 
 belono[ to moral reasoninor. The last, therefore, which 
 
 has its distinctive name from the primary signification of 
 the Latin MORES, viz. manners, customsy &c. requires a sep-" 
 
 arute cansideration. 
 55 
 
'™ 
 
 434 MORAL REASONING. 
 
 §., 3oO. Of the nature of moral certainty. 
 
 Moral reasoning causes in us different degrees of as- 
 sent, and in this respect differs from demonstrative. In 
 demoristration there is not only an immediate perception 
 of the relation of the propositions compared together; but 
 in consequence of their abstract and determinate nature, 
 there is also a knowledge or absolute certainty of their 
 agreement and disagreement. In moral reasoning the case 
 
 is somewhat different. In both kinds we begin with 
 
 certain propositions, which are either known or regarded 
 as such. In both there is a series of propositions succes- 
 'sively compared. But in moral reasoning, in consequence 
 of the propositions not being abstract and fixed, and there- 
 fore often uncertain, the agreement or disagreement a- 
 mdng them is in general not said to be known, but presum- 
 ed ; and this presumption may be more or less, admitting a 
 great variety of degrees. ' While, therefore, one mode of 
 reasoning is attended with knowledge ; the other can 
 properly be said to produce in most cases only judgment 
 
 or opinion. But the probability of such judgment or 
 
 opinion may sometimes arise so high, as to exclude all 
 reasonable doubt. And hence we then speak, as if we 
 possessed certainty in respect to subjects, which admit 
 merely of the application of moral reasoning. Although 
 it is possible, that there may be- some difference between 
 the belief attendant on* demonstration, and that produced 
 by the highest probability, the effect on our feelings is at 
 any rate essentially the same. A man, who should doubt 
 the existence of the cities of London and Pekin, although 
 he has no other evidence of it than that of testimony, 
 would be considered hardly less singular and unreasonable, 
 than one, who might take it irito his head to doubt of the 
 propositions of Euclid. It is this very high degree of 
 probability, which we term moral certainty, 
 
 §. 3Sl. Of reasoning from analogy. 
 
 Moral reasoning admits of some subordinate divisions; 
 and of these, the first to be mentioned is reasoning from 
 analogy. — The word, analogy, is used with some vagueness, 
 
MORAL REASONING. 435 
 
 but in general denotes a resemblance, either, greater or 
 less. — Having observed a consistency and uniformity in 
 tlve operations of the physical world, we are naturally led 
 to presume, that things of the same nature will be affected 
 in the same way, and will produce the same effects ; and 
 also that the same or similar effects are to be attributed to 
 like causes. Analogical reasoning, tfierefore, is that 
 mental process, by which unknown truths or conclusions 
 are inferred from the resemblances of thin<rs. 
 
 The argument, by which Sir Isaac Newton establishes 
 the truth of universal gravitation,isof this sort. He proves, 
 that the planets in their revolutions are deflected towards 
 the sun in a manner precisely similar to the deflection of 
 the earth towards the same luminary ; and also that there 
 is a similar deflection of the moon towards the earth, and 
 of a body projected obliquely at the earth's surface towards 
 the earth's centre. Hencie he infers by analogy, that all 
 these deflections originate from the same cause, or are 
 governed by one and the same law, viz. the power of grav- 
 itation. 
 
 This method of reasoning is applicable to the inquiry, 
 Whether the planets are inhabited; and furnishes the sole 
 ground for the indulgence of such a supposition. We ob- 
 serve a resemblance in certain respects between Mars, Ju- 
 piter, Saturn, and other planets, and the earth. They all 
 revolve around the sun, as the earth does, ar^d all derive 
 lig-ht from thp^t source. Several of them are ascertained 
 to revolve on. their axis, and, consequently, must have a 
 succession of day and night. Some of them have moons, 
 and all are subject to the law of gravitation. From these 
 various similitudes we draw the conclusion by analogy, 
 that those planets must be inhabited, like the earth. 
 
 There are a variety of subjects,both speculative and prac- 
 tical, in respect to which we may reason in this way ; and 
 sometimeswith considerable satisfaction.And among others, 
 this method of reasoning finds a place in the arguments of 
 persons in the practice (ff the law. An attorney, for instance, 
 advocates a case, which does not fall within the provisions 
 
 
436 
 
 MORAL REASONING. 
 
 of existing. statutes, and for which he finds in his authori- 
 ties no exact precedent. He is^therefore, under the neces- 
 sity of ascertaining, as far as possible, the analogy or je- 
 semblance between this case and others, which ai'e given, 
 and have been decided upon. And he has here a favour- 
 able opportunity for the exhibition of his research and dis- 
 crimination. A considerable part of the argumentation 
 
 among pleaders at the bar is employed in urging various 
 analogies of this sort. It is the business of the court in 
 such instances to adjust and compare them together, and 
 allow them their due weight. In doing this their discern- 
 ment and integrity are called into exercise ; for sometimes 
 a small circumstance, and perhaps one, which the pleader 
 has labored to involve in obscurity, will disclose an essen- 
 tial distinction between the case in hand, and that on the 
 file of precedents, to which it has been likened. 
 
 §. 332. Caution to he used in reasoning from analogy. 
 
 The last remark leads us to observe, that much care is 
 necessary in arguments drawn from this source, especially 
 in scientific investigations ; and they are in all cases to be 
 received with some degree of distrust. The ancient anat- 
 omists are an instance of precipitate reasoning from analo- 
 gy. Being hindered by certain superstitions from dissect- 
 ing the bodies of men, they endeavoured to obtain the in- 
 formation they wanted, by the dissection of those animals, 
 whose internal structure was supposed to come nearest 
 to that of the human body. In this way they were 
 led into a variety of mistakes, which have been detected 
 by later anatomists. It does not follow, because things re- 
 semble each other in a number of particulars, that this re- 
 semblance will be found in all others ; and we are, there- 
 fore, always to consider ourselves in danger of pushing 
 the supposition of similitude too far. 
 
 The proper use of analogical reasoning seems to be, in 
 all scientific inquiries, to illustrate and confirm truths, 
 which are susceptible of proof from other sources of evi- 
 dence. A happy instance of this use of it is the work of 
 
MORAL REASONING. 437 
 
 Bishop Butler, entitled, "T/ie analogy of Religion^ natural 
 
 and revealed^ to the Constitution and Course of nature.'''' It 
 
 is not the object of the writer to prove the truth of reli- 
 gion, either natural or revealed, but to answer some ob- 
 jections, which may be brought against its principles. 
 And this he does by proving, that the same objections ex- 
 ist to the providence of God in the natural world. There 
 is an analogy or resemblance in the two ; and if the ob- 
 jections, which are brought, will reject him from the au- 
 thorship of what we term religion, either natural or re- 
 vealed, they will dethrone him also from all direction in 
 the ordinary economy of nature. 
 
 §. 333. Of reasoning hy induction. 
 
 We now come to another method of moral reasoning, 
 viz. by induction. Inductive reasoning is the inferring of 
 general truths from particular facts, .that have fallen un- 
 der our observation. Our experience teaches us, that na- 
 ture is governed by uniform laws ; and we have a firm 
 expectation, (whether it be an original principle of our 
 constitution or whatever may be the origin of it,) that 
 events will happen in future, as we have seen them hap- 
 pen in times past. With this state of mind, we are pre- 
 pared to deduce inferences by induction. 
 
 When a property has been found in a number of sub- 
 jects of the same kind, and nothing of a contradictory na- 
 ture appears, we have the strongest expectation of finding 
 the same property in all the individuals of the same class ; 
 in other words, we come to the conclusion that the prop- 
 erty is a general one. Accordingly, we apply a magnet 
 to several pieces of iron ; we find in every instance a 
 strong attraction taking place ; and we conclude, although 
 we have made the experiment with only a small number 
 of the masses of iron actually in existence, that it is a 
 property of iron to be thus affected by that substance, or 
 that all iron is susceptible of magnetical attraction. This 
 is a conclusion drawn by induction. 
 
 The belief, which attends a well conducted process of 
 
438 
 
 MORAL REASONING. 
 
 inductive reasoning, bears a decided character ; it is mor- 
 al probability of the highest kind, or what is sometimes 
 termed moral certainty ; and is at least found to be suffi- 
 cient for all practical purposes. We obtain all the gener- 
 al truths, relating to the properties and laws of material 
 objects in this way. 
 
 And we thus not only acquire*a knowledge of the gen- 
 eral nature of material objects, but apply the same induc- 
 tive process also in the investigation of law^s, which gov- 
 ern the operations of the mind. It is by experience or 
 observing what takes place in a number of individuals, 
 that we are able to infer the general law of association, 
 viz.. When two or more ideas have existed in the mind in 
 immediate succession, they are afterwards found to be 
 mutually suggested by each other. It is the same in ascer- 
 taining other general laws. 
 
 The method of induction, which is recommended by 
 Lord Bacon, a-s one of the most important aids in the 
 search after truth, is employed not only in ascertaining 
 the general facts both of physical and intellectual nature, 
 but is employed also in the formation of such practical 
 rules and maxims, as are of use in the common concerns of 
 life. 
 
 §, 334. Of combined olr accumulated argument$. 
 
 When a proposition in geometry is given to be demon- 
 strated, it sometimes happens that two or more solutions 
 may be offered, leading to the same end. The theorem 
 or the problem is one and the same, as also the conclusion; 
 but there may be more than one train of reasoning, more 
 than one series of intermediate steps, connecting the prop- 
 osition, which is to be investigated, with the result. But 
 as the conclusion in each of these different cases is certain, 
 it does not strengthen it, although it may gratify curiosi- 
 ty, to resort to a different and additional process. 
 
 It is not thus in moral reasoning. The great difference 
 between the two kinds of reasoning, ais before observed, 
 is not so much in the mental process, as in the subjects, 
 about which they are employed. Now as the subjects in 
 
MORAL REASONING. 439 
 
 moral feasoning are not of a purely abstract nature, and 
 are therefore often attended with uncertainty, our belief, 
 when we arrive at the conclusion, is not always of the 
 highest kind. More frequently it is some inferiour de- 
 gree of probability. Hence in any moral inquiry the more 
 numerous the series of arguments, which terminates in a 
 particular conclusion, the stronger will be our belief in 
 the truth of that conclusion. 
 
 Thus we may suppose a question to arise,Whether the 
 Romans occupied the island of Great Britain at some pe- 
 riod previous to the Saxon conquest ^ In reference to this 
 inquiry a number of independent arguments may be 
 brought forward; (1) The testimony of the Roman his- 
 torians; (2) The remains of buildings, roads, and en- 
 campments, which indicate a Roman origin ; (3) The 
 coins, urns, «fec. which have been discovered. — ^Although 
 these arguments are independent of each other, they all 
 bear upon the same conclusion ; and being combined to- 
 gether, they very essentially increase the strength of our 
 belief. 
 
CHAPTER TENTH. 
 
 PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING. 
 
 §. 335. Practical rules in reasoning required by the frequen- 
 cy of its applications. 
 
 Various directions have been given by writers on 
 Logic, (which it may be remarked here, is only another 
 name for whatever concerns the nature, kinds, and appli- 
 cations of reasoning,) the object of which is to secure the 
 more prompt, accurate, and efficient use of the reasoning 
 power. It is but natural to suppose, that some of these 
 dialectical rules are greater, and others of less value. 
 Such *is appeared to be of the least questionable impor- 
 tance are brought together, and explained in this chapter ; 
 nor will* this occasion any surprize, when it is recollected, 
 that it has been the object of this Work throughout, not 
 only to ascertain what the mental o|5erations are, but by 
 practical suggestions from time to time, to promote what 
 is of a good, and prevent what is of a hurtful tendency 
 in such operations. 
 
 The directions now referred to have of course a more 
 intimate connection with Mofal, than with Demonstrative 
 reasoning ; but this is a circumstance, which enhances, 
 rather than diminis^hes their worth. The occasions, which 
 admit and require the application of moral reasoning, be- 
 ing inseparable from the most common occurrences and 
 
-^PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING. 441 
 
 exigencies of life, are miicli more numerous, than those 
 of demonstrative reasoning. It is undoubtedly one great 
 object of reasoning, (particularly of moral reasoning,) 
 not only to discover truth for ourselves, but to communi- 
 cate it to others ; in other words, to produce in the minds 
 of others the conviction, which exists in our own. It is 
 unnecessary to attempt to show, how often occasions, sui- 
 table to such an object, occur ; and still less to indicate by 
 any formal statements, how much the importance of the 
 reasoning power is increased by such frequency of its ap- 
 plications. There are not unfrequently formal and vigo- 
 rous discussions, not only in the common intercourse and 
 in relation to the common business of life, but they are 
 opened and maintained in the schools of learning, in 
 courts of justice, in literary and philosophical societies, in 
 ecclesiastical councils, and among the advocates of adverse 
 systems in morals, politics, and religion. Especially do 
 legislative assemblies, which, in later times, have so rapid- 
 ly multiplied, afford frequent opportunities for the eiforts 
 of the honest dialectician. He has there great motives, 
 operating upon him, and calling him to put forth the no- 
 blest powers of argument ; such as the establishment of 
 justice, the protection of the oppressed, the preservation 
 of freedom, a nation's welfare, growth, and glory. Rea- 
 soning is the great instrument, which is wielded in these 
 conflicts ; and we are persuaded, that any suggestions, 
 which may tend to regulate its exercise and secure its ap- 
 propriate results, will be acceptable. 
 
 §. 2S6. (1) Of being influenced by a desire of the truth. 
 
 The first direction in relation to reasoning, which will 
 be given, concerns the feelings, with which it is proper 
 to be animated. In all questions, which admit of dis- 
 cussion, and on which we find ourselves at variance with 
 the opinions of others, we are to make truth our object. 
 A desire of the truth is the first qualification in such in- 
 quiries. Guided by this internal light, the inquirer will 
 find his path consistent amid all its windings, and though 
 56 
 
442 PHACTICAL DIRECTIONS /* 
 
 it may pass through dark sliades and rough declivities, 
 terminating at last in green fields and pleasant streams, 
 where he shall be crowned with quietness and with hon- 
 our. 
 
 The opposite of a desire of the truth is a wish to de- 
 cide the subject of dispute in one way rather than anoth- 
 er. The foundation of such a preference of one result to 
 another are in general the prejudices of interest and pas- 
 sion ; and these are the great enemies of truth. Whenev- 
 er we are under their influence, we form a diiFerent esti- 
 mation of testimony anel of other sources of evidence 
 from what we should do under other circumstances- ; 
 and at such times they can hardly fail to lead us to false 
 results. 
 
 We have an illustration of the effects of a disputatious 
 spirit, unconnected with any desire of the truth, among 
 the Schoolmen. No persons seem to have been more skil- 
 led in the technical forms of argument. To dispute 
 with readiness and skill was considered among them a part 
 of education so valuable, that all possible pains were ta- 
 ken in securing this mental accomplishment. But the ac- 
 quisition of truth did not form any prominent part of 
 their plan. The subjects, about which they debated, 
 were frivolous ; and the spirit, which animated them, 
 exceedingly captious and disingenuous. The testimony of 
 John of Salisbury, a learned man of the Scholastic ages, 
 confirms this. He visited Paris, in the year 1137, and 
 attended upon the lectures of the famous Abelard and 
 other masters, and made great advancements in learn- 
 ing. A Lumber of years afterwards he returned to the 
 place of his early studies, in order to confer with his for- 
 mer associates, who yet remained there, on the topics, on 
 which they had been used to converse. 
 
 " I found them (says he) the same men, in the same 
 place ; nor had they advanced a single step towards resolv- 
 ing our ancient questions, nor added a single proposition, 
 however small, to their stock of knowledge. Whence I 
 inferred, what indeed it w^as easy to collect, that dialectic 
 
IN REASONING. 443 
 
 studies, however useful they may be when connected with 
 other branches of learning, are in themselves barren and 
 useless." It may be briefly added, that the above men- 
 tioned rule is important to be observed on all occasions of 
 reasoning whatever, but particularly in public debate ; 
 because, in addition to the influence of general interest and 
 passion already alluded to, the presence of others and the 
 love of victory over an opponent too often induce men to 
 forget or to disreo^ard the claims, which truth is always 
 entitled to enforce. 
 
 §. 337. (II.) Cam to be used in correctly stating the subject of 
 inquiry and discussion. 
 
 Another rule in the prosecution of an argument is, that the 
 question under debate is to be fairly and correctly stated. 
 Reljdng solely on the justice of our cause, and animated 
 by a desire of the truth, we should be unwilling to allow 
 any artifice here. — The matter in controversy may be sta- 
 ted in such a way as to include, in the very enunciation of 
 it, something taken for granted, which must necessarily 
 lead to a decision in favour of one of the opponents. But 
 this amounts to begging the question, a species of fallacy or 
 sophism, upon which we shall again have occasion to re- 
 mark. Sometimes the subject of discussion is stated 
 
 so carelessly, that the true point at issue is wholly left out. 
 It may be proper, therefore, in many cases to adopt the 
 practice of special pleaders, and first to ascertain all the 
 points, in which the opponents agree, and those in which • 
 they differ. And then they can hardly fail of directing 
 their arguments, to what is truly the subject of contention. 
 In order that there may not be a possibility of misun- 
 derstanding here, dialecticians should aim to have clear 
 ideas of every thing stated in the question which, has an 
 intimate connection with the point at issue. That is, sub- 
 ordinate parts of the question, and even particular words 
 are to be examined. If the statement affirm or deny any 
 thing in regard to the qualities or properties of material 
 bodies, it is incumbent upon us to possess as clear ideas 
 
444 
 
 PRACTICxiL DIRECTIONS 
 
 as possible, both of the object in general, and of those 
 properties or qualities in particular. Similar remarks will 
 apply to other subjects of inquiry of whatever kind. 
 
 As an illustration of these directions, we will suppose, 
 that the point in dispute is. Whether civil government 
 originates. in all cases from the people '' Here it is neces- 
 sary to understand what is meant by the word government; 
 that is, whether it is meant to include in the term all the 
 different kinds of public authority, such as absolute, mon- 
 archical, and aristocratical, as well as republican, and to 
 give it the most general meaning. The reason of this is, 
 that some might be inclined to say, that purely absolute 
 governments, such as that of the Ottoman Porte, are 
 no governments at all, but merely usurpations or tyranny, 
 and, therefore, ought to be excluded from the inquiry. 
 The meaning of the word, originate, is also to be looked 
 into. We are to know what constitutes a beginning or 
 origin in this case ; and particularly whether the term, as 
 here used, implies and admits the validity of a tacit agree- 
 ment, or not. In the inquiry, it will necessarily be ad- 
 mitted, that many governments exist without any written 
 or express agreement on the part of the people ; and still 
 it may be urgently contended, that they have originated by 
 virtue of a tacit agreement, provided it be granted, that 
 there is any such thing as a tacit agreement, which is bind- 
 ing, and which, therefore, can be a ground of existence 
 or origin. -The taking of such precautions would of- 
 ten have prevented great waste of words, as well as undue 
 indulgence of irritable feelings ; and would have often led 
 more directly and surely to the discovery of truth. 
 
 §. 338. (Ill) Consider the kind of evidence applicable to the 
 subject. 
 
 As one subject clearly admits of the application of 
 one species of evidence, while another as clearly requires 
 evidence of a different kind, we are thence enabled to lay 
 down this rule, viz.. We are to consider what kind of ev- 
 idence is appropriate to the question under discussion. 
 
 When the inquiry is one of a purely abstract nature 
 
IN REASONING. ■ 445 
 
 and all the propositions, involved in the reasoning, are of 
 the same kind then we have the evidence of intuition or 
 intuitive perception ; and the conclusion, for reasons al- 
 ready mentioned, is certain. 
 
 In the examination of the properties of material bo- 
 dies, we depend originally on the evidence of the senses ; 
 which gives a character and strength to our belief accord- 
 ing to the circumstances, under which the objects are 
 presented to them. In judging of those facts in the con- 
 duct of men, u'hich have not come under our own obser- 
 vation, v/e rely on testimony. This source of belief 
 causes probability in a greater or less degree, according as 
 the testimony is from one or more, given by a person, 
 who understands the subject, to which it relates, or not, 
 &c. — And again, some subjects admit of the evidence of 
 induction, and in respect to others we have no other aids, 
 than the less authoritative reasonings from analogy. In 
 other cases, the evidence is wholly made up of various in- 
 cidental circumstances, which are found to have relation 
 to the subject in hand, and which affect the belief in dif- 
 ferent degrees and for various causes. 
 
 And hence as the sources of belief, as well as the belief 
 itself, have an intimate connection with the subject before 
 us, they ought to be taken into consideration. The evi- 
 dence should be appropriate to the question. But if the 
 question admit of more than one kind of evidence, then all 
 are entitled to their due weight. 
 
 §. 339. (IV.) On excluding all unmeaning propositions. 
 
 Deeply interested in the subject of discussion, and 
 bent not so much upon putting down your opponent as the 
 discovery of the truth, avoid the introduction of propo- 
 sitions, which are destitute of meaning. A proposition is 
 in general said to be without meaning when it is so stated 
 that all the information, it gives as a whole, is already 
 contained in one of the parts, viz., the subject. 
 
 The first class, answering to this view, may be termed 
 IDENTICAL PROPOSITIONS. — The proposition, whatever is, 
 IS, may be given as an instance. When examined, it will 
 
446 
 
 PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS 
 
 be found to teach us nothitig ; and although it was in the 
 times of the Scholastic philosophy, employed as an axiom, 
 and thought to be of much consequence in aiding as a me- 
 dium in argument, the proof which it brings, in any case 
 whatever, amounts to no more than this, that the same 
 word may with certainty be predicated of itself. When 
 we say that man is man, or that blue is blue, we receive 
 as much information and as valuable, as when we say, 
 that whatever is, is ; that is, we know no more afterwards 
 than we did before the enunciation of the proposition. 
 The same of all, which belong to this class. 
 
 There is a second class of unmeaning propositions, 
 slightly differing in form, from the above, but are the 
 same in substance, viz., Those, where a part only of 
 
 THE COMPLEX IDEA IS PREDICATED OF THE WHOLE. 
 
 Hence to this class belong all those, where the genus is 
 predicated of the species ; when for instance, it is said, 
 that lead is a metal. If we know the meaning of the 
 term, lead, which is the subject of the proposition, we of 
 course know, that it is a metal. The propositions, that 
 gold is yellow, and that man is rational, are of this kind. 
 We are supposed to know the meaning of the separate 
 terms of these propositions ; one of these terms is the 
 subject ; and this evidently involves and implies the mean- 
 ing of the proposition, taken as a whole. When, on the 
 contrary we are told, that man has a notion of God, or 
 that man is cast into sleep by opium, we then learn some- 
 thing, since the ideas here expressed are not contained in 
 
 the word, man. When a single word is employed with 
 
 vagueness and inconsistency, it is rightly considered to be 
 a proper subject of criticism, and may fairly be objected 
 to ; and the same liberty, and for the same reasons, may 
 properly be taken with unmeaning propositions, which 
 have the appearance of carrying us onward in the investi- 
 gation of a subject, but which, when truly estimated, leave 
 us no wiser, than before we heard them. 
 
IN REASONING. 447 
 
 §. 340. (V.) Avoid the introduction of acknowledged and 
 common-place propositions. 
 
 There is anotlier rule, relating to the practice of rea- 
 soning, which is of a like nature with the last mention- 
 ed viz. Not to burden the argument with acknowledged 
 
 and common-place propositions. The common feelings 
 
 and experience of mankind have so firmly established 
 many things as true, that the great mass would no more 
 think of controverting them, than would the geometri- 
 cian of questioning the truth of axioms. These proposi- 
 tions differ from those, considered in the last section, 
 in having meaning, and perhaps important meaning. 
 But it ought not to be forgotten, that we are suppo- 
 sed to reason with those, v/ho have had some expe- 
 rience and possess a share of common sense ; and v/ho 
 need not to be reminded of truths, however significant, 
 which are already as familiar to them as the letters of 
 their mother tongue. If the question depend directly upon 
 such truths, then there is no " need of discussion ; and if 
 it do not, then it is certainly a prejudice to our cause to 
 let them take up our attention, while there are other 
 points of moment more closely connected with its issue. 
 A studious enumeration and arrangement of common-place 
 statements offends the hearer or reader, because it intimates, 
 that we consider them more ignorant, than they will be 
 willing to admit ; and besides, it causes fatigue and list- 
 lessness. But a worthy and powerful dialectician, while 
 he sedulously seeks the truth, is ahvays found to observe 
 two things ; first, to keep down all feelings of disgust and 
 prejudice in the minds of his opponents and others; and sec- 
 ond, to preserve their attention interested and fully alive. 
 This last can be done only by presenting the select and 
 prominent views of a subject, by investing them with 
 every appropriate attraction, and urging them home by 
 awakened and constant appeals. 
 
 §. 341. (VI.) Reject the aid of false arguments or sophisms. 
 
 There is a species of false reasonino^, which we call a 
 
448 
 
 PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS 
 
 SOPHISM. A sophism is an argument, which contains some 
 secret fallacy, mider the general appearance of correct- 
 ness. The aid of such arguments, which are intended to 
 deceive, and are inconsistent with a love of the truth, 
 should be rejected. 
 
 (1) Ignoratio ELENCHi, or misapprehension of the 
 question, is one instance of the sophism. It exists, when 
 the arguments advanced do not truly apply to the point 
 in debate. Let it be supposed, that some person has 
 founded a literary institution. The question is, Whether 
 he be a man of learning, a sholar ? It is argued, that he 
 is, in consequence of having founded a seminary for scien- 
 tific purposes. Here we may deny the connection be- 
 tween the premises and the conclusion, although the argu- 
 ment is somewhat specious ; because we know it to be the 
 fact, that many men of but small information have been 
 the patrons of science. That is, an argument is applied, 
 which, it is supposed, would not have been brought for- 
 ward, if there had been a proper understanding of the im- 
 port and spirit of the question, and of what was justly ap- 
 plicable to it. 
 
 (2) Petitio pkincipii, or begging of the question, is 
 another instance of sophism. This sophism is found, 
 whenever the disputant offers, in proof of a proposition, 
 the proposition itself in other words. The following has 
 been given as an instance of this fallacy in reasoning ; — A 
 person attempts to prove, that God is eternal, by asserting, 
 that his existence is without beginning and without end. 
 Here the proof,which is offered,and the proposition itself, 
 which is to be proved, are essentially the same. — When 
 we are told, that opium causes sleep, because it has a sopo- 
 rific quality, or that grass grows by means of its vegeta- 
 tive power, the same thing is repeated in other terms. — 
 This fallacy is very frequently practised ; and a little care 
 in detecting it would spoil many a fine saying, and deface 
 
 many a elaborate argument. What is called arguing 
 
 in a circle is a species of sophism very nearly related to 
 the above. It consists in making two propsitions recip^ 
 rocally prove each other. 
 
IN REASONING. 449 
 
 (3) NoN CAUSA PKo CAUSA, Or the assignation of a false 
 cause. — People are unwilling to be thought ignorant ; 
 rather than be thought so, they will inipose on the credu- 
 lity of their felldw men, and sometimes on themselves, by 
 assigning false causes of events. Nothing is more com- 
 mon, than this sophism among illiterate people ; pride is 
 not diminished by deficiency of learning, and such people, 
 therefore, must gratify it by assigning such causes of events 
 as they find nearest at hand. Hence, when the appear- 
 ance of a comet is followed by famine or a war, they are 
 disposed to consider it as the causeof those calamities. If 
 a person have committed some flagrant crime, and shortly 
 after suffer some heavy distress, it is no uncommon thing 
 to hear the former assigned, as the direct and the sole 
 cause of the latter. — This was the fallacy, which historians 
 have ascribed to the Indiai>s of Paraguay, who supposed 
 the baptismal ceremony to be the cause of death, because 
 the Jesuit missionaries, whenever opportunity offered, ad- 
 ministered it to dying infants, and to adults in the last stage 
 of disease. 
 
 (4) Another species of sophistry is called fallacia 
 
 AcciDENTis. We fall into this kind of false reasoning, 
 
 whenever we give an opinion concerning the general na- 
 ture of a thing from some accidental circumstance. Thus, 
 the Christian religion has been made the pretext for per- 
 secutions, and has in conquence been the source of much 
 suffering ; but it is a sophism to conclude, that it is, on the 
 whole, not a great good to the human race, because it has 
 been attended with this perversion. Again, if a medecine 
 have operated in a particular case unfavourably, or in 
 another case, have operated very favourably, the univer- 
 sal rejection or reception of it, in consequence of the fa- 
 vourable or unfavourable result in a* particular instance, 
 would be a hasty and fallacious induction of essentially 
 the same sort. That is, the general nature of the thing 
 is estimated from a circumstance, which may be wholly 
 accidental. 
 
 57 
 
450 PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS 
 
 §. 342 (^11-) On the- sophism of estimating actions and char- 
 acter from the circumstance of success merely. 
 
 The foregoing are some of the fallacies in reasoning, 
 which have found a place in writers on Logic. To these 
 might be added the fallacy or sophism, to which men are 
 obviously so prone, of judging favourably of the charac- 
 ters and the deeds of others, from the mere circumstance 
 of success. Those actions, which have a decidedly suc- 
 cessfid termination, are almost always applauded, and are 
 looked upon as the result of great intellectual forecast; while 
 "not less frequently actions, that have an unsuccessful issue, 
 are not only stigmatized as evil in themselves, but as indica- 
 ting in their projector a flighty and ill-balanced mind. — 
 The fallacy, hovv^everjdoes not consist in taking the issues or 
 results into consideration, which are undoubtedly entitled 
 to their due place in estimating the actions and characters 
 of men, but in too much limiting our view of things, and 
 forming a favourable or unfavourable judgment from the 
 mere circumstance of good or ill success alone. 
 
 While there is no sophism, more calculated to lead as- 
 tray and perplex, there is none more common than this ; 
 so much so, that it has almost passed into a proverb, that 
 a hero must not only be brave, hut fortunate . . Hence it is, 
 that Alexander is called the Great, because he gained vic- 
 tories, and overran kingdoms ; while Charles XII of Swe- 
 den, who tiie most nearly resembles him in the character- 
 istics of bravery, perseverance, and chimerical ambition, 
 but had his projects cut short at the fatal battle of Pultowa, 
 is called a madman. 
 
 "Machiavel has justly animadverted, (says Dr. Johnson) 
 on the different notice taken by all succeeding times, of 
 the two great projectors, Cataline and Caesar. Both form- 
 ed the same project, and intended to raise themselves to" 
 power by subverting the commonwealth. They pursued 
 their design perhaps with equal abilities and equal virtue; 
 but Cataline perished in the field, and C^sar returned from 
 Pharsalia with unlimited authority ; and from that time, 
 every monarch of the earth has thought himself honoured 
 
IN REASONING. ^ 451 
 
 by a comparison with Caesar ; and Gataline has never been 
 mentioned, but that his name might be applied to traitors 
 and incendiaries." 
 
 In the same Essay* he happily illustrates ^this subject 
 by a reference to the discovery of America, in the fol- 
 lowing terms. — "When Colambus had engaged king Fer- 
 dinand, in the discovery of the other hemisphere, the sai- 
 lors, with whom he embarked in the expedition, had so 
 little confidence in their commander, that after having 
 been long at sea looking for coasts, which they never ex- 
 pected to find, they raised a general mutiny,and demanded 
 to return. He found means to sooth them into a permis- 
 sion to continue the same course three days longer, and 
 on the evening of the third day descried land. Had the 
 impatience of his crew denied him a few hours of the time 
 requested, what had been his fate but to have come back 
 with the infamy of a vain projector, who had betrayed 
 the king's credulity to useless expenses, and risked his life 
 in seeking countries that had no existence? how would 
 those that had rejected his proposals^have triumphed in their 
 acuteness ; and when would his name have been mentioned, 
 but with the makers of portable gold and malleable glass?" 
 
 §. 343. (VIII.) On the use of equivocal terms and phrases. 
 
 It is a further direction of much practical importance, 
 that the reasoner should be careful, in the use of lan- 
 guage, to express every thing with plainness aad precision; 
 and especially never attempt to prejudice the cause of 
 truth, and snatch a surreptitious victory by the use of an 
 equivocal phraseology. No man of an enlarged and 
 cultivated mind can be ignorant, that multitudes of 
 words in every language admit of diversities of signi- 
 fication. There are to be found also in all languages 
 many words, which sometimes agree w^ith each other, and 
 sometimes differ in signification, according to the connec- 
 tion in which they appear, and their particular application. 
 There is, therefore, undoubtedly an opportunity, if any 
 should be disposed to embrace it, of emphying equivocal 
 terms, equivocal phrases, and perplexed and mysterious 
 ■- See the Adventurer. No 99. 
 
452 PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS 
 
 combinations of speech, and thus hiding themselves from 
 the penetrating light of trutli, under cover of a mist of their 
 own raising. 
 
 No man, whose sole object is truth and justice,will resort 
 to such a discreditable subterfuge. If in reasoning he 
 finds himself inadvertently employing words of an equiv- 
 ocal signification, it will be a first care with him to guard 
 against the misapprehensions, likely to result from that 
 source. He v»^ili explain so precisely the sense, in v^hich 
 he uses the doubtful terms as to leave no probability of cav- 
 illing and mistake. 
 
 And besides the invaluable reputation of a man of hon- 
 our and justice, he will in this way realize results in res- 
 pect to his own intellectual character of the most berieficial 
 nature. The practice of verbal criticism, as it has been 
 called, (that is, of discriminating readily and accurately 
 the meaning of words,) will result in a habit, giving to the 
 dialectician a vast power over his opponent, who has not 
 been trained to the making of such nice discriminations. 
 There will be a keenness of intellectual perception, which, 
 while it helps to untie the perplexities of language, at the 
 same time resolves the perplexities of thought ; separating 
 meaning from meaning, and dividing truth from falsehood 
 in those cases, where at first sight it appeared to be impos- 
 sible. But it is a power, which cannot be possessed without 
 a laborious acquaintance with the purest writers and the 
 ablest reasonersin a language ; together with a systematic 
 and philosophic study of its origin, idioms, and general 
 forms. And while it may be employed to the most bene- 
 ficial purposes, it is far too formidable to be entrusted in 
 the management of any one, who is not under the influence 
 of that moral rectitude and that love of the truth, which 
 have been so repeatedly insisted on. 
 
 §. 344. (IX.) Of adherence to our opinions. 
 
 Whenever the rules laid down have been followed, and 
 conclusions have been formed with a careful and candid 
 regard to the evidence presented, those opinions are to be 
 asserted and maintained with a due degree of confidence. 
 It would evince an unjustifiable weakness to be driven 
 
IN REASONING. 453 
 
 from oar honest convictions by the effrontery, or even by 
 the upright, though misguided zeal of an opponent. Ndt 
 that a person is to set himself up for infallible, and to 
 suppose that new accessions of evidence are impossible, or 
 that it is an impossibility for him to have new views of the 
 evidence already examined. But a suitable degree of sta- 
 bility is necessary in order to be respected and useful; and, 
 in the case suppo^^ed, such stability can be exhibited with- 
 out incurring the charge, which is sometimes thrown out, 
 of dofforedness and intolerance. 
 
 It is further to be observed, that we are not always to 
 relinquish judgments, which have been formed in the way 
 pointed out, when objections are afterwards raised, which 
 we cannot immediately answer. The person thus attack- 
 ed can, with good reason, argue in this way ; I have once 
 examined this subject carefully and candidly ; the evidence, 
 both in its particulars and in its multitude of bearings, has 
 had its weight ; many minute and evanescent circumstan- 
 ces were taken into view by the mind, which have now- 
 vanished from my recollection ; I, therefore, do not feel at 
 liberty to alter an opinion thus formed, in consequence of 
 an objection now brought up, which^ I am unable to an- 
 swer, but choose to adhere to my present judgment, until 
 the whole subject, including this objection, can be re-ex- 
 amined. 'This reasoning would inmost cases be correct, 
 
 and would be entirely consistent with that love of truth 
 and openness to conviction, which ought ever to be main- 
 tained. 
 
 §. 34.5. Effects of debating for victory instead of truth. 
 
 By way of suppporting the remarks under the first 
 rule, we here introduce the subject of contending for vic- 
 tory merely. He, who contends with this object, takes 
 every advantage of his opponent, which can subserve his 
 own purpose. For instance, he will demand a species of 
 proof or a degree of proof, which the subject in dispute does 
 not admit; he gives, if possible, a false sense to the words 
 and statements, employed by the other side ; he questions 
 facts, which he himfelf fully believes and every body 
 else, in the expectation that the opposite party is not 
 
454 PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING. 
 
 furnished with direct and positive evidence of them. In a 
 word wherever an opening presents, he takes the utmost 
 advantage of his opponent, however much against his 
 dwn internal convictions of right and justice. 
 
 Such a course, to say nothing of its moral turpitude, 
 effectually unsettles that part of our mental economy, 
 which concerns the grounds and laws of belief. The 
 practice of inventing cunningly devised objections against 
 arguments, known to be sound, necessarily impairs the in- 
 fluence, which such arguments ought ever to exert over 
 us. Hence the remark has been made with justice, that 
 persons, who addict themselves to this practice, frequent- 
 ly end in becoming sceptics. They have so often perplexed, 
 and apparently overthrown what they felt to be true, 
 they at last question the existence of any fixed grounds of 
 belief in the human constitution, and begin to doubt of 
 every thing. 
 
 This effect, even when there is an undoubted regard 
 for the truth, will be found to follow from habits of ar- 
 dent disputation, unless there be a frequent recurrence to 
 the original principles of the mind, which relate to the 
 nature and laws of belief. The learned Chillingworth is 
 an instance. The consequences, to which the training up 
 of his vast powers to the sole art of disputation finally 
 led, are stated by Clarendon. — '^Mr. Chillingworth had 
 spent all his younger time in disputations and had arrived 
 at so great a mastery, that he was inferiour to no man in 
 those skirmishes ; but he had with his notable perfection 
 in this exercise, contracted such an irresolution and hab- 
 it of doubting, that by degrees he grew confident of noth- 
 ing." 
 
 '^Neither the books of his adversaries nor any of their 
 persons, though he was acquainted with the best of both, 
 had ever made great impression on him. All his doubts 
 grew but of himself, when he assisted his scruples with 
 all the strength of his own reason ; and was then too 
 hard for himself. But finding as little quiet and repose 
 in those victories, lie quickly recovered by a new appeal 
 to his own judgment ; so that he was in truth, in all his 
 sallies and retreats, his own convert." 
 
CHAPTER ELEVENTH. 
 
 OF IMAGINATION. 
 
 SA6. Definition of the poicer of imagination. 
 
 Imagination is a complex exercise of the rnind, by 
 means of which various conceptions are combined togeth- 
 er, so as to form new wholes. The conceptions have prop- 
 erly enough been regarded as the materials, from which 
 the new creations are made ; but it is not until after the 
 existence of those mental states, which are implied in im- 
 agination, that they are fixed upon, detained, and brought 
 out from their state of singleness into happy and beautiful 
 combinations. 
 
 Our conceptions have been compared to shapeless 
 stones, as they exist in the quarry, which " require little 
 more than mechanic labour to convert them into common 
 dwellings, but that rise into palaces and temples only at 
 the command of architectural genius." That rude, and 
 little more than mechanic effort, which converts the shape- 
 less stones of the quarry into common dwellings, may 
 justly be considered, when divested of its metaphorical as- 
 pect, a correct representation of this mental property, as 
 it exists among the great mass of mankind ; while' the ar- 
 chitectural genius, which creates palaces and temples, is 
 the well-furnished and sublime imagination of poets, paint- 
 ers, orators, &c. 
 
45af OF IMAGINATION. 
 
 Imaginatioo is a complex mental operation ; implyint^ 
 the exercise of the power of association in fornishino- those 
 conceptions, which are combined together ; also the ex- 
 ercise of that susceptibility, by which we perceive the re- 
 lations of things, known as the power of relative sugges- 
 tion. Nor is this all that is necessary, as will hereafter 
 more fully appear. 
 
 §. 347. The creations of imagination not entirely voluntary. 
 
 The opinion, that even persons of the most ready im- 
 agination can foriti'new imaginary creationSjVi^henever they 
 choose, by a mere volition, however widely it may have 
 prevailed, cannot be maintained. To will or to exercise 
 a volition, always implies a mental determination, a choice. 
 In accordance with the common opinion, we will suppose, 
 that a person wills, or chooses, to imagine an ocean of 
 melted brass, or an immense body of liquid matter, which 
 has that appearance. The statement itself evidently in- 
 volves a contradiction. It is certainly impossible for a 
 person to will to imagine any thing, since that precise 
 thing, v/hich he wills to imagine, must alread.y be in his 
 mirid at the time of such volition. He wills for instance 
 to imagine a sea of melted brass ; but of what meaning or 
 what utility is this volition, when he has already imag- 
 ined the very thing, which this language seems to antici- 
 pate as future ? Whatever a person wills, or rather pro- 
 fesses to will to imagine, he has already imagined ; and 
 consequently, there can be no such thing as entirely vol- 
 untary imaginations. 
 
 §. S43. Of imaginations net attended icith desire. 
 
 The creations, which we form by means of the power 
 of imagination, are of two kindsthose attended with desire, 
 and those which are not. It is the latter kind, which we 
 
 speak of in this section. There is hardly any mind so 
 
 wantin-g in intellectual wealth as not to find clusters of as- 
 sociated conceptions, groups of images often arising in 
 itself. They seem to come upon us, as it were, unbidden; 
 and to combine themselves in a variety of proportions, pre- 
 
OP IMAGINATION. 457 
 
 senting new, and perhaps grotesque figures. But, al- 
 though this varied presentation of floating imagery have 
 the appearance of occupying the mind in an accidental 
 manner, it all arises, and is regulated by the laws of asso- 
 ciation. No image whatever occurs, which has not some 
 connection with the state of the mind, which preceded it. 
 In using these expressions however, we would not be un- 
 derstood to imply, by the connection asserted, any thing 
 more than this, that one intellectual state, in certain given 
 circumstances, follows another, agreeably to an original 
 law or principle of our constitution established by its Ma- 
 ker. But although we truly have here instances of the 
 exercise of imagination, it is not of the higher and effec- 
 tive kind, which gives birth to the creations of poetry, and 
 painting, and other fine arts. 
 
 §. 349. Of imaginations attended with desire. 
 
 While there are some combinations, the result of im- 
 agination, which are formed without any accompanying 
 emotion of desire, there are some, where desire, or inten- 
 tion of some sort clearly exists. It is of cases of this last 
 mentioned kind that we are accustomed to think, when 
 with those intellectual susceptibilities and states, to which, 
 considered conjointly, we give the name of imagination, 
 we associate the idea of effective power or the ability to 
 create. It is this frame of mind, which exists in every 
 attempt at composition in prose and verse, where the sub- 
 ject admits of lively images and appeals to the passions. 
 
 It may assist us in understanding this species of imagina- 
 tion, if we endeavour to examine the intellectual opera- 
 tions of one,who makes a formal effort in writing, wheth- 
 er the production be of a poetic or other kind. 
 
 A person cannot ordinarily be supposed to sit down to 
 write on any occasion whatever,without having some gen- 
 eral idea of the subject to be written upon already in the 
 mind. He, accordingly, commences the task before him 
 with the expectation and the desire of developing the sub- 
 ject more or less fully, of giving to it not only a greater 
 continuity and a better arrangement, but an increased in- 
 53 
 
458 
 
 OF IMAGINATION. 
 
 terest in every respect. And it may be the case, that ma- 
 ny circumstances, indirectly relative to the effort of com- 
 position, such as the anticipated approbation or disappro- 
 bation of the public, have an affect greatly to fix and in- 
 crease the emotion of interest or desire. The feeling of de- 
 sire,when compared with some other emotions, is found to 
 possess a superiour degree of permanency. And as, in the 
 instance which we are now considering, the desire or feel- 
 ing of interest is intimately connected with the general 
 conception of the subject before the mind, the effect of 
 this connection is a communication of the permanency, 
 .originally belonging solely to the desire, to the general 
 idea or outlines of the subject, which the writer is to treat 
 of. The conception, therefore, of those outlines loses in 
 this way the fleeting and ever varying nature of other 
 conceptions, and becomes fixed. The lineaments of the 
 anticipated treatise remain in their length, breadth, and 
 proportions, permanently held up to the writer's view. 
 
 Spontaneous conceptions continue, in the mean while, 
 to arise in the mind, on the common principles of associa- 
 tion ; but as the general outline of the subject remains 
 fixed, they all have a greater or less relation to it. And 
 partaking in some measure of the permanency of the out- 
 line, to which they have relation, the writer has an oppor- 
 tunity to approve some and to reject others, according as 
 they impress him as being suitable or unsuitable to the na- 
 ture of the subject. Those, which affect him with emo- 
 tions of pleasure, on account of their perceived fitness for 
 the subject, are retained and committed to writing, while 
 others, which do not thus affect and interest him,soon fade 
 away altogether. 
 
 Whoever carefully notices the operations of his own 
 mind, when he makes an effort at composition, will proba- 
 bly be well satisfied, that this account of the intellectual 
 process is very near the truth. 
 
 It will be recollected, therefore, that the exercise of 
 imagination in the composition of any theme, which ad- 
 mits of it, is not the exertion of merely a single intellec- 
 tual ability. It is the developement of various feelings. 
 
OF IMAGINATION. 459 
 
 laws, and susceptibilities ; of desire, of the principle 
 or law of association, and of judgment or relative sug- 
 gestion, in consequence of which a feeling of relative fit- 
 ness or unfitness arises on the contemplation of the con- 
 ceptions, which have spontaneously presented themselves, 
 
 §. 350. Farther illustrations of the same subject. 
 
 We first think of some subject. With the original 
 thought or design of the subject, there is a co-existent de- 
 sire to investigate it, to adorn it, to present it to the exam- 
 inadon of others. The effect of this desire is to keep the 
 general subject in mind ; and, as the natural consequence 
 of the power of association, various conceptions arise, in 
 some way or other related to the general subject. Of some 
 of these conceptions we approve in consequence of their 
 perceived fitness to the end in view, while we reject oth- 
 ers on account of the absence of this requisite quality of 
 agreeableness or fitness. 
 
 For the*sake of convenience and brevity we give the 
 name of imagination to this complex state or series of 
 states of the mind. It is iniportant to possess a single term, 
 expressive of the complex intellectual process ; otherwise, 
 as we so frequently have occasion to refer to it in common 
 conversation, we should be subjected, if not properly to a 
 circumlocution) at least to an unnecessary multiplication 
 of words. But while we find it so much for our conven- 
 ience to make use of this term, we should be careful and 
 not impose upon ourselves, by ever remembering, that it 
 is the name, nevertheless, not of an original and indepen- 
 dent faculty, which of itself accomplishes all, that has been 
 mentioned, but of a complex state or of a series of states 
 of the mind. A single further remark may be added in 
 illustration of the process of the mind in literary compo- 
 sition. It has been seen to how great a degree efibrts of 
 this kind depend on the laws of association. When, there- 
 fore, a person, has sat down to write, it may be expected, 
 that he has furnished himself with pen and paper, and that 
 hejias books around him. The presence of these and oth- 
 er things, subordinate to the writer's general undertaking. 
 
460 OF IMAGINATION. 
 
 constantly reminds him by the operation of the same laws, 
 of the subject before him, and recalls his attention, if he 
 discover any disposition to wander from it. 
 
 §. 351. Remarks from the writings of Dr. Reid. 
 
 Dr. Reid (essay i/. cli. 4.) gives the following graph- 
 ical statement of the selection, which is made by the wri- 
 ter from the variety of his constantly arising and departing 
 conceptions. 
 
 ''We seem to treat the thoughts, that present them- 
 selves to the fancy in^crowds, as a great man treats those 
 (courtiers) that attend his levee. They are all ambitious 
 of his attention. He goes round the circle, bestowing a 
 bow upon one, a smile upon another ; asks a short ques- 
 tion of a third,while a fourth is honoured with a particular 
 conference ; and the greater part have no particular mark 
 of attention but go as they came. It is true, he can give 
 no mark^of his attention to those, who were not there ; but 
 he lias a sufficient number for making, a choice and dis- 
 tinction." 
 
 §. 352. Grounds of the preference of one conception to an- 
 other. 
 
 A question after all arises, on what principle is the 
 mind enabled to ascertain that congruity, or incongruity, 
 fitness or unfitness, agreeably to which it makes the selec- 
 tion from its various conceptions. The fact is admitted, 
 that the intellectual principle is successively in a series of 
 different states, or, in other words, that there are succes- 
 sive conceptions or images, but the inquiry still remains, 
 why is one image in the group thought or known to be 
 more worthy than any other image, or why are any 
 two images combined together in preference to any two 
 others ? 
 
 The answer is, it is owing to no secondary law,but io an 
 instantaneous and original suggestion of fitness or unfitness. 
 Those conceptions, which by means of this original pow- 
 er of perceiving the relations of things, are found to 
 be suitable to the general outlines of the subject, are de- 
 
OF IMAGINATION. 461 
 
 tained. Those images, which are perceived to possess 
 a peculiar congriiity and fitness^for each other, are united 
 together, forming new and more beautiful compounds. 
 While others, although no directly voluntary power is 
 exercised over either class, are neglected, and soon become 
 extinct. But no account of this vivid feeling of approval 
 or disapproval, of this very rapid perception of the mutu- 
 al congruity of the images for each other or for the gener- 
 al conception of the subject, can be given, other than this, 
 that with such a power the original author of our intellec- 
 tual susceptibilities has been pleased to form us. This is 
 our nature ; here we find one of the elements of our intel- 
 lectual efficiency ; without it we might still be intellectual 
 beings, but it v/ould be with the loss both of the reasoning 
 power and of the imagination. 
 
 §. 353. Mental process in the formation of Milton^ s imaginary 
 paradise. 
 
 What has been said can perhaps be made plainer, by 
 considering in what way Milton must have proceeded, in 
 forming his happy description of the garden of Eden. 
 He had formed, in the first place, some general outlines of 
 the subject ; and as it was one, which greatly interested 
 his feelings, the interest, which was felt, tended to keep 
 the outlines steadily before him. Then the principles of 
 association, which are ever at work, brought up a great 
 variety of conceptions, having a relation of some kind to 
 those general features ; such as conceptions of rocks, and 
 woods, and rivers, and green leaves, and golden fruit. 
 
 The next step was the exercise of that power,which we 
 liave of perceiving relations, which we sometimes denom- 
 inate the judgment, but more appropriately the suscepti- 
 bility or power of relative suggestion. By means of this 
 he was at once able to determine, whether the conceptions, 
 which were suggested, were suitable"to the general design 
 of the description and to each other, and whether they 
 would have, when combined together to form one picture, 
 a pleasing effect. Accordingly those, which were judged 
 most suitable, were combined together as parts of the irn 
 
4m OF IMAGINATION. 
 
 aginary creation, and were detained and fixed by means 
 of that feeIin<T of interest, which was at first excercised to- 
 wards the more prominent outlines merely; while others 
 speedily disappeared from the mind. And thus arose an 
 imaginary landscape, glowing with a greater variety and 
 richness of beauty, more interesting and perfect in every 
 respect, than we can ever expect to find realized in nature. 
 
 §. 354. Works of imagination give different degrees of 
 pleasure. 
 
 Different persons receive different degrees of pleasure 
 from works of imagination. The fact is well known. 
 Something may be said in explanation of it, in reference 
 to poetry ; which is one of the creations of the power, 
 we arie considering. And the same explanation will apply 
 
 in part to other efforts of the imagination. -Although 
 
 poetry is generally looked upon to be a useful and pleas- 
 ing art, we find,^that all have not the same relish for its 
 beauties. The pleasure, which is felt by a reader of poet- 
 ry will in general depend upon two circumstances, (1) 
 the conformity of his experience to the things described; 
 (i) the liveliness of his own imagination. 
 
 The pleasure received will depend, in the first place, 
 on the conformity of the reader's experience to the things 
 
 described. Accordingly, if the scene of a poem be laid 
 
 within the limits of a commercial city,if it deal chiefly in 
 the description of the habits of the people residing there ; 
 and of their various turns of fortune, it will excite but 
 comparatively little interest in those, who have been 
 brought up wholly amid retired and rural scenes. And 
 when, on the other hand, the scene of it is laid in the 
 country, when it deals in the toils, and sorrows, and joys of 
 country life, it excites comparatively little interest in those, 
 who have never had any actual experience of that kind. 
 Burn's Cotter's Saturday Night is an admirable poem ; but 
 it is exceedingly more pleasing to those, who can clearly 
 perceive, from what they have themselves seen and heard 
 and felt, its accurate conformity to nature, than to those, 
 who cannot. 
 
OF IMAGINATION. 463 
 
 The pleasure which is felt by a reader of poetry, will 
 depend also in part on the liveliness of his own imagina- 
 tion. In poems the different parts are only imperfectly 
 
 filled up ; some describe more minutely than others ; but 
 the most minute describers only trace the outlines. These 
 remain, therefore, to be filled up by the reader. But the 
 ability to do this is found in very different degrees in dif- 
 ferent persons ; some very rapidly and admirably finish 
 the picture, and others do not. The latter, consequently, 
 remain, in a considerable degree, unaffected, and perhaps 
 condemn the poem as deficient in interest ; while the for- 
 mer read it with great feeling and pleasure. This state- 
 ment accounts for the fact, that the same poem gives to 
 different persons different degrees of satisfaction ; and aU 
 so, inasmuch as it requires in all cases some power of im- 
 agination in the reader, explains the circumstance, that so 
 many appear to be utterly destitute of any relish for the 
 beauties of the poetic art. 
 
 §. 255. On the utility of ihefaeuVy of the imagination. 
 
 We have proceeded thus far in endeavouring to ex- 
 plain the nature of imagination ; and we here turn aside 
 from this general subject, for the purpose of remarking on 
 the utility of this power. And this appears to be necessa- 
 ry, since there are many,who seem disposed to prejudice 
 its claims, in that respect ; they warmly recommend the 
 careful culture of the memory, the judgment, and the 
 reasoning power, but look coldly and suspiciously on 
 the imagination, and would mther encourage a neglect of 
 it. But there is ground for apprehending, that a neglect 
 of this noble faculty in any person, who aspires to a full 
 developement and growth of the mind, cannot be justified 
 either by considerations drawn from the nature of the mind 
 itself, or by the practical results of such a course. 
 
 In speaking on the utilty of the imagination, it is cer- 
 tainly a very natural reflecftion, that the Creator had some 
 design or purpose in furnishing men with it, since we find 
 universal] v, that he does nothincr in vain. And what de- 
 sign could he possibly have,.if he did not intend that it 
 
464 OF IMAGINATION. 
 
 should be employed, that it should be rendered active, 
 and trained up with a suitable degree of culture ? But if 
 we are thus forced upon the conclusion, that this faculty 
 was designed to be rendered active, we must further sup- 
 pose, that its exercise was designed to promote some use- 
 ful purpose. And such, although it has sometimes been 
 perverted, has been the general result. 
 
 No where is the power of imagination seen to better 
 advantage than in the Prophets of the Old Testament. 
 If it be said that those venerable writers were inspired, 
 it will still remain true, that this was the faculty of the 
 mind, which inspiration especially honoured by the use, 
 which was made of it. And how many monuments may 
 every civilized nation boast of, in painting, architecture, 
 and sculpture, as well as in poetry, where the imagination, 
 in contributing to the national glory, has at the same time 
 contributed to the national happiness! Many an hour it 
 has beguiled by the new situations it has depicted, and 
 the new views of human nature it has disclosed ; 
 many a pang of the heart it has subdued, for who 
 can indulge in the reminiscence of his own humble 
 sorrows, when plunged in the mysteries and the woes, of 
 the Hamlet and the King Lear ; it has cherished many a 
 good resolution, and subtending, as it were, a new and 
 wider horizon around the intellectual being, has filled the 
 soul with higher conceptions, and inspired it with higher 
 hopes. Conscious of its immortal destiny, "and struggling 
 against th© bounds that limit it, the fouI enters with joy 
 into those new and lofty creations, w^hich it is the prerog- 
 ative of the imagination to form; and they seem to it a con- 
 genial residence. Such are the views, which obviously 
 present themselves on the slightest consideration of this 
 subject ; and it is not strange therefore, that we find in 
 the writings of Mr. Addison, who was not easily led astray 
 on question^ of this nature, such sentiments as the follow- 
 ing.- "A man of polite imagination is led into a great 
 
 many pleasures, that the vulgar are not capable of receiv- 
 ing. He can converse with a picture, and find an agreea- 
 ble companion in a statue. . He meets with a secret re- 
 
OF IMAGINATION. 465 
 
 freshment in a description, and often feels a greater satis- 
 faction in the prospects of fields and meadows than another 
 does in the possession. It gives him, indeed, a kind of 
 property in every thing he sees, and makes the most rude, 
 uncultivated parts of nature administer to his pleasures ; 
 so that he looks upon the world, as it were, in another 
 light, and discovers in it a multitude of charms that con- 
 ceal themselves from the generality of mankind." 
 
 §. S56. Of the importance of the imagination in connection with 
 the reasoning power. 
 
 In remarking on the subject of the utility of the im- 
 agination, there is one important point of view, in which 
 it is capable of being considered ; that of the relation of 
 the imagination to the other intellectual powers. And, 
 among other things, there is obviously ground for the re- 
 mark, that a vigorous and well-disciplined imagination may 
 be made subservient to promptness, and clearness, and suc- 
 cess in reasoning. The remark is made, it wi!l be noticed, 
 on the supposition of the imagination being well disciplin- 
 ed, which implies, that it is under suitable control ; other- 
 wise it will rather encumber and perplex, than afford aid. 
 • Take, for instance, two persons, one of whom has culti- 
 vated the reasoning power, exclusive of the imagination. 
 We will suppose him to possess very deservedly the repu- 
 tation of an able and weighty dialectician ; but it will be 
 obvious to the slightest observation, that there is, in one 
 respect, a defect and failure ; there is an evident want of 
 selection and vivacity in the details of his argument. He 
 cannot readily appreciate the relation which the hearer's 
 mind sustains to the facts, which he wishes to present ; and 
 accordingly with much expense of patience on their part, 
 he laboriously and very scrupulously takes up and exam- 
 ines every thing, which can come within his grasp, and 
 bestows upon every thing nearly an equal share of 
 attention. And hence it is, that many persons, who are 
 acknowledged to be learned, diligent, and even success- 
 ful in argument, at the same time sustain the reputation, 
 69 ■ 
 
46G OF IMAGINATION. 
 
 which is by no means an enviable one, of being dull, tire- 
 some, and uninteresting. 
 
 Let us now .look a moment at another person, who is 
 not only a man of great powers of ratiocination,but has cul- 
 tivated his imagination, and has it under prompt and judi- 
 cious command. He casts his eye rapidly over the whole 
 field of argument, however extensive it may be ; and im- 
 mediately perceives what- facts are necessary to be stated, 
 and what are not ; what are of prominent, and what of sub- 
 ordinate importance ; what will be easily understood and 
 possess an interest, and what will be difficult to be appre- 
 ciated, and will also lose its due value from a want of attrac- 
 tion. And he does this on the same principle, and in virtue 
 of the same mental training, which enables the painter, 
 architect, sculptor, and poet,to present the outlines of grand 
 and beautiful creations in their respective arts. There is 
 a suitableness in the different parts of the train of reasoning; 
 a correspondence of one part to another ; a great and com- 
 bined effect, enhanced by every suitable decoration, and 
 undiminished by any misplaced excrescence, which un- 
 doubtedly implies a perfection of the imagination, in some 
 degree, kindred with that, which projected the group 
 of the -Laocoon, crowned the hills of Greece with statues 
 and temples, and lives in the works of renowned poets. 
 The debater, who combines the highest results of reasoning 
 with the highest results of the imagination, throws the 
 light of his own splendid conceptions around the radi- 
 ance of truth ; so that brightness shines in the midst of 
 brightness, like the angel of the Apocalypse in the sun. 
 
 §. o57. Of miscGnceptiGns by means of the imagination. 
 
 But while it is safe to admit, that th^ imagination may 
 be made subservient to valuable purposes, it is no less 
 true, that it may sometimes mislead us. The following 
 are instances among others, where this is the result. 
 
 Our admiration of the great may be reckoned a preju- 
 dice of the imagination. We are apt to suppose them 
 possessed of personal attractions, and of the highest hap- 
 piness; and not only .this, to invest them with every wor- 
 
OF IMAGINATION. 467 
 
 thy moral attribute. '-The misfortunes, (says a late wri- 
 ter,) of Mary, Queen of S3ots, and of her descendant, 
 Prince Charles Edward, commanded the sympathy, the 
 love^ and the enthusiasm of millions. In the cause of 
 these princes, how many have joyfully sacrificed life, 
 though neither of them was worthy or capable of reio-n- 
 ing ! How many labour still to blot out every stain from 
 their memory! And yet every individual, in the circle 
 of his own private friends and acquaintances, can un- 
 doubtedly find many persons mo-re distinguished for vir- 
 tue, for good principles, for integrity of character, than 
 the prince for whom he is willing to lay down his life.; 
 but a friend) a private man, is invested with none of tho^e 
 attributes, always dazzling but often false, which are cal- 
 culated to strike the imagination."' 
 
 Our imaginations mislead us also in respect to war, 
 whenever we contemplate it at a distance, and do not feel 
 its effects at our own fire-sides and homes. We delight to 
 dwell upon the idea of mighty power, which it suggests ; 
 we recall to memory the homage and plaudits, which have 
 been given to the brave ; we combine together concep- 
 tions of all, that is stirring in music, and brilliant in equi- 
 page. In a word, it is a kindling imagination, seizing upon 
 some imposing circumstances, that leads multitudes into 
 deplorable mistakes as to the character of that great 
 scourge of the human race. Again ; the power of im- 
 agination often gives a wrong colouring to future life. It 
 is here. as in some prospects in natural scenery, 
 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view. 
 Whatever may be our present evils', we imagine there is 
 good to come. We rush forward in the pursuit of it, like 
 children, who set out with spirited emulation, expecting 
 to grasp in their hands the splendours of the rainbow, that 
 appears to them to rest upon the neighboring hills. 
 
 ^. 353. Explanationof the above misrepresentations of the imag- 
 ination. 
 
 But how happens it, that this faculty so often misleads 
 us ? What explanation can be given ? 
 
468 OF IMAGINATION. 
 
 The answer is, that the mind turns away with a natur- 
 al aversion fro mi whatever causes it pain or uneasiness ; de- 
 lighting to dwell on the elements of beauty and sublimity, 
 and in general on all scenes, which exite in it pleasant 
 emotions. As there is, therefore, more or less in all ac- 
 tual situations, which causes dissatisfaction, we shall al- 
 ways find, in every condition, in which we are placed, 
 somethinc^ which detracts from what we imao^ine to be 
 the sum of happiness. The evils, which are around us 
 and near us, we must know ; our situation forbids an at- 
 tempt at the concealment of them. Every day forces 
 the lesson of human adversity on our attention. But 
 when we look abroad from the reality, which exists at 
 home, from the cares and sorrows, which are ever near at 
 hand, to other scenes and prospects, we do not think of 
 trial and disappointment, because we are not obliged to. 
 We fix our attention upon those circumstances, which ap- 
 pear most favourable and interesting; and, consequently, 
 know nothing of the uneasiness and misery, which actu- 
 ally exist in the imaginary paradise of our creation. — For 
 instance, we are apt to associate, as has been remarked, 
 with persons in very high stations in life, the ideas of un- 
 alloyed happiness, of moral excellence, of manliness and 
 beauty of form ; but v/hile men in the most exalted sta- 
 tions have no less a share than others of bodily deformi- 
 ties and suffering, they have still greater . anxieties ; their 
 hours of sorrow are often more numerous than those of 
 any other class of persons. It v/as well inquired by King 
 Henry in Shakspeare, 
 
 "What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect, 
 
 " That private men enjoy? 
 
 " And what have kings, that privates have not too, 
 " Save ceremony, save general ceremony? 
 
 And under the direction of the same mental tendency, 
 by which we are led to mark the elevations without noti- 
 cing the depressions of the great men of the earth, we are 
 led also to see the sublimities and hide from our sight the 
 degradations and miseries of war, to behold the sunshine 
 of the future, but no clouds. 
 
CHAPTER TWELFTH. 
 
 ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 
 
 §. 359. Of the meaning of prejudices . 
 
 In forming our judgments or opinions of things, we 
 are led to take into consideration a variety of facts and 
 circumstances, which are applicable to the particular sub- 
 jects under consideration, and are fitted to influence the 
 mind m the formation of such opinions. The circumstan- 
 ces and facts, which are thus fitted to influence our belief, 
 in consequence of giving new views in respect to the sub- 
 jects before us, are commonly termed evidence. But it 
 is well known, that the full and natural force of evidence is 
 often interrupted and weakened by the operation of vari- 
 ous, causes. Besides the agency of other causes, by 
 means of which the judgment is led into errour, 
 there are some in the mind itself; particularly casual, 
 but strong associations arising there of various sorts, 
 and under various aspects. The term prejudices, as it is 
 commonly employed, embraces the greater number of 
 these grounds or causes of erroneous judgments. 
 
 Prejudices, therefore, to which we are now to attend, 
 are judgments or opinions, which are formed without a 
 suitable regard to the evidence, properly pertaining to 
 them ; whenever, for example, sources of evidence, which 
 are within our reach, are overlooked ; or when the facts 
 
470 
 
 ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 
 
 and incidental circumstances, constituting the evidence, 
 are allowed to have too great or too little influence. A 
 mind, which discovers a tendency thus to overlook or 
 misapply grounds of evidence, is called a prejudiced 
 mind. 
 
 A greater or less degree of importance will be attached 
 to this subject, according as we attach a greater or less de- 
 gree of value to the possession of correct and enlightened 
 opinions. None can consider it unimportant ; many will 
 justly regard it, as of the very highest importance. It is 
 the object of this chapter to point out some of the princi- 
 pal sources of prejudices. 
 
 §. 360. Of prejudices in favour of our youth. 
 
 Many of those opinions, which we form of the scenes, 
 and events, and characters of our youthful days, are preju- 
 dices. As we look back and frame an estimation of that 
 early period, the associates of our childhood and youth 
 seem to us to have been without a crime ; in those happy 
 days the interests of parents were never at v^'iance with 
 those of their children ; masters sought the good of their 
 dependants ; the poor were welcome sharers in the abun- 
 dance of the rich ; magistrates were virtuous; the religious 
 teachers were eminently holy men. Alas! for these evils 
 days of our manhood and old age, in which there is such 
 rottenness in all civil institutions, which recent times have 
 established ; such corruption in every new set of magis- 
 trates ; and such depravity in the great mass of the peo- 
 ple! The causes of this apparent disparity between the 
 world, as it exists now, and formerly, are briefly these. 
 
 In the morning of life every thing is rrew ; our atten- 
 tion is arrested by a multitude of novel objects, and the 
 mind is filled with delight. Happy ourselves, we imagine 
 that, with few exceptions, all others are not less so ; and 
 while our own hearts are conscious of innocence, we are 
 exempt from any suspicion of crime in others. In a word, 
 we suppose all the world to be happy, all the world to be 
 innocent and just, because we are conscious of the existence 
 of rectitude and truth and innocence in ourselves, and are 
 
ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 471 
 
 too inexperienced^to be aware of the frequency of their ab- 
 sence from the great mass of mankind. As we grow up, 
 cares multiply, bodily infirmities increase ; we more often 
 see collisions of interest, hollow professions, deceptive ex- 
 pedients, and intriguing arts of all kinds ; and what is 
 worse, we discover in our own breasts more of distrust, 
 jealousy, passion, and other evils, than have been develop- 
 ed in our earlier days. 
 
 The true solution then is this ; We attribute to one 
 thing what belongs to another. We ascribe to the great 
 mass of mankind, changes which have only taken place in 
 
 ourselves. The world appears to us differently from 
 
 what it did when we were young, not because it has itself 
 essentially altered, (which can never be supposed to have 
 happened in a single life of man ;) but because we, as in- 
 dividuals, have become more acquainted with its true 
 character, and are made more sensibly to feel the pressure 
 of its many ills. And it is for such reasons as these un- 
 doubtedly, that old men so often appear to be strangers in 
 the midst of every thing that is present, and to live only 
 in the world that is past. 
 
 In the adventures of Gil Bias, a work which cannot be 
 denied to possess the merit of an intimate knowledge of 
 human nature, we are introduced- to the company of 
 
 two old men, Count d'Asumar, and Signor Pacheco. 
 
 "Count d' Asumar, far from concealing his grey hairs, 
 supported himself on a cane, and seemed to glory in his 
 old age. Signor Pacheco, (said he, as he came in,) I am 
 come to dine with you. You are -very welcome, Count, 
 (answered my master.) Meanwhile, having embraced 
 one another, they sat down, and entered into conversation, 
 till such time as dinner was ready. The discourse turned 
 first upon a bull-feast, which had been celebrated a few 
 days before ; and as they mentioned the cavaliers, who 
 had shewn the greatest vigour and address, the old Count, 
 like another Nestor, v/ho, from talking of the present, 
 always took occasion to praise the past, said, v/ith a sigh; 
 'Alas, I see no men now-a-days comparable to those! have 
 known heretofore; and the tournaments are not performed 
 
472 ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 
 
 with half the magnificence that they were when I was a 
 young man.' — I laughed within myself at the prejudice of 
 honest Signor d'Asumar, who did not confine it to tour- 
 naments only ; but I remember, when the dessert was set 
 upon the table, seeing some fine peaches served up he ob- 
 served, In my time the peaches were much larger than 
 
 they are at present ; nature degenerates every day. At 
 
 that rate, (said Don Gonzales, smiling,) the peaches of Ad- 
 am's time must have been wonderfully large." 
 
 §.'361. Of prejudices of home and country. ' 
 
 There are prejudices in favour of one's native country 
 and of the village, where he may happen to have been 
 brought up, and to live. And this prejudice in favour of 
 one's own residence and nation is too often attended with 
 a contempt and dislike of tho&e, who have their origin 
 elsewhere. It is notorious, that two of the most powerful 
 and well informed nations on earth, the French and Eng- 
 lish, have for a long series of years affected to despise, and 
 have most certainly hated each other. The French and 
 Spaniards, who also are near neighbours to each othei\ 
 have hardly been on better terms. The Italians, flattered 
 by the eminent success of some of their countrymen in the 
 arts, term the Germans blockheads ; while the Germans 
 get their satisfaction by bestowing the same appellation 
 on the Swiss. Even the poor and ignorant Gr^enlander 
 has his grounds of triumph ; and amid his rocks and 
 snows fondly imagines, that there is no home, no freedom 
 like his. 
 
 Different explanations may be given of the origin of 
 this strong attachment to our nation and the place of our 
 residence; and of the contempt, which is often entertained, 
 for others. Whatever explanation may be adopted, the 
 existence of such feelings is well known, and their influ- 
 ence in perplexing our judgments of men and things 
 extensively felt. This is seen in the criticisms, which are 
 made by the authors of one nation on the productions in 
 literature and the arts of another. With the Englishman, 
 Montesquieu is superficial and dull ; with the Frenchman, 
 
ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 473 
 
 Newton dwindles down to a mere almanack-maker ; in 
 one country a writer is extolled on account of the place of 
 his birth, and in another is decried and put down for the 
 
 same reason. It is important to all to be aware of the 
 
 tendency to form erroneous opinions in consequence of 
 these predilections and antipathies. A mind well balan- 
 ced, and anxious to know the truth and to do equal and 
 exact justice to all, will carefully guard against it. 
 
 §. SQ2. Professional prejudices. 
 
 Some erroneous opinions may be attributed to men's 
 professions or callings in life. A little self-examination 
 will convince us, that our feelings are apt to be unduly en- 
 listed in favour of those, who are practising the same arts, 
 pursuing the same studies, engaged in the same calling of 
 whatever kind. When at anytime it falls to us to discrim- 
 inate between such and persons of another art or calling ; 
 to determine which has the greatest merit, or is the deep- 
 est in crime, there is no small difficulty in becoming en- 
 tirely divested of this feeling. It continually rises up, 
 ev^en when we seem to be unconscious of it ; it gives a 
 new aspect to the facts, which coine under examination; 
 it secretly but almost infallibly perplexes the decisions of 
 men, who have the reputation of candour, and who would 
 be offended at the imputation of intended injustice. 
 
 The causes of prejudices, arising from particular pro- 
 fessions in life, are undoubtedly much the same, as those 
 which are at the bottom of the partial sentiments, which 
 people entertain of their own home and country. There 
 is something in our constitution, which leads us to feel a 
 deep interest iu those, with whom we are much associa- 
 ted, whose toils are the same, who have the same hope to 
 stimulate, and the same opposition to encounter. Be- 
 sides, our own selfish feelings are at work. Our honour, 
 and consequently, our respectability are in some degree in- 
 volved in that of the profession. As that rises or falls, 
 individuals experience something of the elevation or de- 
 pression. 
 
 Under this class of prejudices may be reckoned those, 
 60 
 
474 ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 
 
 resulting from that contraction and halting of the mind? 
 which is often siiperindnced by an exclusive attentiors to 
 one class of subjects or to one train of thought. When 
 a man, who has been taught in one science only, and 
 whose mental operations have consequently been always 
 running in one track, ventures out of it, and attempts to 
 judge on other subjects, nothing is more common than for 
 such an one to judge wrong. It is no easy matter for him 
 to seize on the true distinctions of things beyond his par- 
 ticular sphere of knowledge ; and he mistakes not only in 
 respect to the nature of the things themselves, of which 
 he is to judge, but also as to the nature and rules of the 
 evidence applicable to them. An eminent mathemati- 
 cian is said to have attempted to ascertain by calculation 
 the ratio, in which the evidence of facts must decrease . in 
 the course of time, and to have fixed the period, when the 
 evidence of the facts, on which Christianity is founded, 
 shall become extinct, and when, in conse:|ueDce, all reli- 
 gious faith must he banished from the earth. 
 
 §. 363. Prejudices of sects and parties. 
 
 In religious sects, and in political or other parties, 
 prejudices are still stronger, than those of particular arts 
 and professions. In sects and parties there is a conflict of 
 opinions, and not of trades ; a rivalship of principles, and 
 not of mere labour and merchandize. It is, therefore, an 
 active, an aspiring competition. Too restless to lie dor- 
 mant, it is introduced in high-ways, and workshops, and 
 private and public assemblies ; too ambitious to be easily 
 overcome, it continually renews and perpetuates the con- 
 iiict. The prejudices, therefore, of sects and parties have 
 all the elements of professional prejudices, embittered by 
 constant exercise. They convulse nations ; they disturb 
 the peace of neighbourhoods ; they break asulider the 
 strong ties of family and kindred. 
 
 The history of every republic, not excepting our own, 
 affords abundant instances of the putting forth of these 
 virulent and ungenerous tendencies. We do not mean to 
 
ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 475 
 
 say that a man cannot belong to a party without being 
 prejudiced; however difficult it may be, to be placed in that 
 situation without beins^ tinctured with those feelings. But 
 wherever they actually exist, they deaden every honourable 
 sentiment ; they perplex evey noble principle. Nothing 
 can be clearer evidence of this, than that we continually be- 
 hold men of exalted patriotism, and of every way unsul- 
 lied character, traduced by unfounded imputations and 
 charges ; and which are known to be so by those political 
 opponents, who njake them. And it is a still more striking 
 illustration of the strength of party prejudices, that we 
 iind a political measures, advocated or opposed by the 
 ; .me men, as they happen to be in or out of office ; or as 
 the measures in question happen to be advocated or op- 
 posed by the members cff the other party. As if men, 
 and not measures ; as if places without regard to princi- 
 ples, were to be the sole subject of inquiry. 
 
 The prejudices of sects have been no less violent 
 than those of political parties, as may be learnt from 
 the hostility, which is yet exercised among them, and 
 from the history of former persecutions and martyrdoms. 
 Even philosophy has not been exempt ; different scien- 
 tific systems have had their parties for and against ; and 
 the serious and dignified pretensions of philosophic in- 
 quiry have not always preserved them from virulent con- 
 tentions, which were not merely discreditable to science, 
 but to human nature. We are told in the histories of 
 philosophical opinions, that the controversies between 
 tho Realists and Nominalists ran so high, as to end 
 not only in verbal disputes, but in blows. An eye-witness 
 assures us, that the combatants might be seen, not only 
 engaging with fists, but with clubs and swords, and that 
 many were wounded, and some killed. Not a very suita- 
 ble way, one would imagine, of deciding an abstract," 
 metaphysical question. 
 
 §. 304. Prejudices of authority. 
 
 Men often adopt erroneous opinions merely because 
 they are proposed by writers of great name. The writings 
 o^ Aristotle were upheld as chief authorities for a number 
 
476 ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 
 
 of centuries in Europa, and no more was necessary in sup- 
 port of any controverted opinions, than to cite sonaethinty 
 favourable from them. The followers of Des Cartes receiv- 
 ed hardly less implicitly the philosophical creed of that new 
 master of science ; not so much because they had investi- 
 gated, and were convinced in view of the evidence before 
 them, as because Des Cartes had said it. There have been 
 teachers in religion, also in politics and other subordinate 
 departments of science, who have had their followers for 
 no better reason. Such prejudices have been a great hinder- 
 ance to free discussion and the progress of knowledge. 
 
 The influence of authority in giving a direction to peo- 
 ple's opinions is ix)t limited to persons, who can truly make 
 pretensions to some superiour wisdom; it is also frequently 
 exercised by mere riches, titles, and outwardjsplendour. 
 This is often seen in republican states, where the people have 
 the right of choosing their rulers, and of expressing their 
 opinions on a variety of public questions. It is well, if 
 not more than half of the people in any of the smaller cor- 
 porations do not, in giving their suffrages, fall in with the 
 sentiments, however absurd they may be, of a few individ- 
 uals, who have no other claim to influence, than what their 
 greater afiluerice gives them. But this is a very unreason- 
 able prejudice. The poorer classes of the community, de- 
 prived of the adventitious aids of wealth, should set a prop- 
 er value on personal character, and let it .clearly appear 
 in all cases, where they are at all capable of judging, that 
 they have understandings, and possess and value freedom. 
 
 §. 3^5. Prejudices of personal friendships and dislikes. 
 
 If man were to choose a state of apathy and indifler- 
 ence, he would be unable to obtain it, at least permanent- 
 ly ; it would be refused to him by the very elements, the 
 original laws of his nature. He is destined not only to 
 act but to feel ; and his feelings in respect to others will 
 vary, according as he has been more or less in their com- 
 pany, as he has received from them greater or less favours 
 or injuries. Hence]he]has his sympathies and his dislikes, 
 his favourable and unfavourable sentiments, his friends and 
 
ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 477 
 
 his opposers. And here we have another source of prej- 
 udices. It is so well understood as to have become a com- 
 mon saying, that it is a difficult matter to judge^with per- 
 fect impartiality, either of friends or foes. A question ari- 
 ses, we will suppose concerning the merit or demerit, the 
 right or wrong in the conduct of a friend ; of one, in whose 
 favour our sympathies are strongly enlisted. In the delib- 
 eration upon the facts before us,which we attempt to hold, 
 he mind is continually interrupted by the remembrance 
 of those kind acts and excellent qualities, which have laid 
 the foundation of our favourable partialities. They come 
 before the eye of the judgment ; we attempt to remove 
 them, and they return again ; they interrupt and cloud 
 :he clearness of its perceptions. And hence, our judg- 
 ments prove to be wrongs 
 
 We experience the same difficulty in forming a just 
 estimate of the character and conduct of those, for whom 
 
 we entertain a personal dislike. —There is a continual 
 
 suggestion of acts and of qualities, which are the founda- 
 tions of that dislike. The effect of this is partly to divert 
 the mind from the question properly before it, and partly 
 to diffuse over it a misrepresentation, v/hich has its origin 
 solely in our own feelings of antipathy. Our dislike inter- 
 poses itself, as in the other case, between the thing to be 
 judged of, and the susceptibility of judging, and renders 
 the mind unable to perceive so clearly the true merits of 
 the question, as it otherwise would. 
 
 §. 366. Prejudices of custom or Jashion. 
 
 The practices of different nations, and the prevailing 
 notions in respect to them, differ from each other; nor are 
 
 those of the same nation the same at different periods. 
 
 The modes of salutation in France are different from those 
 of Russia ; and those of both nations are different from 
 the forms, which are commonly received in Oriental coun- 
 tries. There is no less diversity among nations in the fash- 
 ions of dress, than in the methods of civility, and of polite 
 intercourse. The dress of a Turk or of a Chinese w^ould 
 make but an ill figure on an Englishman ; and the English- 
 
478 ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 
 
 man himself would reject with contempt the obsolete and 
 
 neglected fashion of his own ancestors. The authori- 
 
 ty of fashions extends also to political and religious cere- 
 ,monies, to the regulation and management of domestic af. 
 fairs, and to methods of education. No two nations are 
 alike in all these respects ; and hardly one age, or one 
 year agrees with another. 
 
 We find in the authority of fashion or custom a fruit- 
 ful source of limited and erroneous judgments. Each na- 
 tion passes its censure on the customs, that prevail abroad, 
 but are not adopted at home ; each age ridicules the prac- 
 tices of a preceding age, that have since become obsolete. 
 We have great reason for considering these limited and 
 premature judgments prejudices. We see no grounds, 
 why one nation, especially where there is nearly an equal 
 degree of mental improvement, should set itself up as an 
 infallible judge of propriety and impropriety in the cus- 
 toms and ceremonies of another nation. But the falla- 
 cy consists not merely in ignorantly censuring others. The 
 great body of people are found to be not more unanimous 
 in censuring the opinions and fashions of other ages and 
 nations, than they are, in blindly and implicitly adopting 
 those of their own, however trivial or absurd they may be. 
 They do, as they see others do ; this method they have 
 followed from their youth up,without exercising their own 
 judgment ; and in this way custom has become to them a 
 ^ second nature.' 
 
 §. 367. Correctives of fashionable prejudices . 
 
 Something may perhaps be proposed to alleviate that 
 tyranny of fashion, which has now been spoken of. 
 
 " Three things, (says Watts,) are to be considered, in 
 
 order to deliver our understandings fi^om this dans^er and 
 slavery. 
 
 (1.) That the greatest part of the civil customs of any 
 particular nation or age spring from humour rather than 
 reason. Sometimes the humor of the prince prevails, 
 and sometimes the humor of the people. It is either the 
 
ORIGIN OF PP.EJUDfCES. 479 
 
 great or the many, who dictate the fashion, and these have 
 not always the highest reason on their side. 
 
 (2.) Consider also that the customs of the same nations 
 in differen't ages, the customs of different nations in the 
 same age, and the customs of different towns and villages 
 in the same nation are very various and contrary to each 
 other. The fashionable learning, language, sentiments, 
 and rules of politeness, differ greatly in different countries 
 and ages of mankind ; but truth and reason are of a more 
 uniform and steady nature, aod do not change with the 
 fashion. Upon this account, to cure the prepossessions 
 which arise from custom, it is of excellent use to travel 
 and see the customs of various countries and to read the 
 travels of other men, and the history of past ages, that ev- 
 ery thing may not seem strange and uncouth, which is not 
 ; ractised within the limits of our own parish, or in the 
 iiarrow space of our own life-time. 
 
 [2.) Consider yet again, how often we ourselves have 
 changed our opinions concerning the decency, proprietyj 
 or congruity of several modes or practices in the world, 
 especially if we have lived to the age of thirty or forty 
 Custom or fashion, even in all its changes, has been ready 
 to have some degree of ascendency over our understand- 
 ings, and what at one time seemed decent, appears obso- 
 lete and disagreeable afterwards, when th@ fashion chan- 
 ges. Let us learn, therefore, to abstract as much as pos- 
 sible from custom and fashion, when we would pass a 
 judgment concerning the real value and intrinsic nature 
 of things.'' 
 
 §. 3G8. Of guarding against prejudices in early education. 
 
 We conclude the subject of prejudices, which assumes 
 such a variety of forms, and is not even yet fully exhaust- 
 ed, with one or two practical remarks, naturally flowing 
 from it, on the education of the young. If the human mind 
 be expo*sedto the many undue influences, which have been 
 mentioned, it is certainly an obvious consideration, that 
 great pains should bc taken in training up the young. 
 
480 
 
 ORIGIN OF PREJUDICES. 
 
 False notions take root in the mind at an early period ; 
 and often, before they are supposed to be planted, have 
 gained strength and permanency. A superstitious belief 
 in the agency of spiritual beings in the dark, which is early 
 received, is only one of the many false notions, with 
 which the mind is then liable to be impressed, by 
 means of a wrong intellectual culture. A whole host of 
 errours, to which we have found ourselves exposed in con- 
 sequence of various influences operating upon us, may have 
 their origin at the same time ; even errours of a moral, 
 political, and religious nature. Individuals can sometimes 
 state,'as far back as their memory can reach, circumstances, 
 (perhaps an accidental remark, perhaps an unimportant 
 religious ceremony,) which have had a permanent influ- 
 ence. 
 
 Prejudices so numerous and tenacious >are introduced 
 into the mind in childhood, that it requires much pains and 
 time in after life to unlearn the false notions, to which we 
 have been accustomed to render an implicit belief. The 
 struggle against the influence, which they have acquired 
 over us, will be found to be a severe one ; and oftentimes, 
 it is quite unsuccessful. Many persons, who have been 
 fully a^vare of the extent and evil nature of the tendencies, 
 which were given to their minds in early life,have desired 
 to counteract and annul their influence, and have made ef- 
 forts to that purpose, but wdthout effect. The seeds, that 
 Were sown in the nursery, and had borne their fruits in 
 youth, had taken too deep root to be eradicated in the 
 fulness of years. The hue of the mind, whether it be a 
 tint of beauty or deformity, has contracted the unchange- 
 ableness of the Ethiopian's skin and of the leopard's 
 
 spots. We infer,- therefore, that it is a part of all 
 
 right education, and the duty of all, who are engaged 
 in instructing young minds, not only to guard against 
 the admission of any thing other than the truth, but also 
 to suard against all such influences of whatever kind a^ 
 are unfavourable to the apprehension and reception of it. 
 
PART THIRD. 
 
 SENTIENT STATES OF THE MIND. 
 
 CLASS FIRST. 
 
 EMOTIONS. 
 
 01 
 
CHAPTER FIRST. 
 
 EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 
 
 §. 369. Of the sentient states of the mind in general. 
 
 Having, in the second Part of this Work, com- 
 pleted, in a very considerable degree, what was neces- 
 sary to be said on the intellect, it is now time to enter 
 on the consideration of that part of our nature, which 
 is sometimes denominated the heart, in distinction from 
 the pure understanding or intellectual part of man. 
 
 The obvious and acknowledged grounds of distinction 
 between these two parts of our mental constitution have 
 been explained in another place, (chap, xiii. Part I ;) and 
 it will not perhaps be thought necessary to resume the 
 consideration of them here. We may safely appeal to the 
 terms used in all languages, to the speculations of philoso- 
 phers, and to each one's consciousness in confirmation of 
 the principle, that such a distinction is v,ell founded, and 
 has a reality in nature. The topics, accordingly, which 
 we are now about to enter upon, have their specific char- 
 acter, and relate to the emotions, desires, volitions, feel- 
 ings of obligation, &c ; all of which states of mind, 
 whether they appear under a simple or a complex form, 
 may be considered as included under the epithet sm^ien^ 
 
434 EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 
 
 We do not ordinarily apply that epithet to the mere 
 perceptions and deductions of the understanding ; but un- 
 der the general head of Sensibility or sentience, (if that 
 term v/ere allowable by the established usage of the lan- 
 guage,) is included every thing, which involves some de- 
 gree of feelin<^. — And it may be asserted without hesita- 
 tion, that subjects of this kind present very high claims to 
 our notice. If man had been made of intellect only ; if 
 he could merely have perceived, compared, associated, 
 and reasoned, v^'ithout a single desire, without a solitary 
 emotion, without sorrow for suffering or sympathy in joy ; 
 if he had been all head and no heart ; the human soul 
 "«.vould have shown a depressed and different aspect, com- 
 pared with what it does at present. It was this part of 
 human nature, which Socrates particularly titrned his 
 thoughts to ; and on account of which he was pronounced 
 by the Oracle the wisest of all men living. In these in- 
 quiries we are let into the secrets of men's actions, for 
 iiere we find the causes, that render them restless and in- 
 quisitive, that prompt to efforts both good and evil, and 
 make the wide world a theatre, where vice and virtue, 
 hope and fear, and joy and suffering mingle in perpetual 
 conflict, 
 
 §. S70. Of the general division of the sentient states of the 
 mind into emotions^ desires, ^-c. 
 
 We no sooner carefully direct our attention to the sen- 
 tient states of the mind, to the feelings in distinction from 
 the thoughts and intellections, than we find them suscep- 
 tible of being arranged into the four general classes of emo- 
 tions, DESIRES, FEELINGS OF OBLIGATION, and VOLITIONS. 
 
 These various species of feeling sometimes closely approx- 
 imate, and may even mingle together, forming a new and 
 complex one ; and yet our consciousness is able to distin- 
 guish them from each other. 
 
 When we come to feelings of obligation and volitions, 
 ?t will be proper to say something on their distinctive na- 
 ture. But as the two other classes are first considered, it is 
 an inquiry more naturally arising here, What is the distinc- 
 
EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 495 
 
 tion between Emotions and Desires ? — As the original 
 feelings, expressed by both of these terms, are sim- 
 ple, it would be of no availjo attempt to define them ; 
 nor do we profess to ascertain the difference between 
 them in this way. We can learn this difference by 
 our own internal examination and by consciousness 
 alone ; nor can any form of mere words illustrate to our 
 comprehension either their nature or their distinction, in- 
 dependently of such internal experience, excepting per- 
 haps in the single circumstance, that emotions are instan- 
 taneous, while there is apparently a greater permanency 
 in desires. These last continue the same as when they 
 first arose, so long as the objects, towards which they are 
 directed, are the same ; while the emotions are in general 
 
 more transitory. But even this distinction, which we 
 
 are able to understand, without having recourse to our 
 consciousness of the feelings themselves, may fail at times; 
 at least apparently so. It is not unfrequently the case, that 
 objects, which are fitted to call forth emotions, remain be- 
 fore the mind a considerable period, and that emotions, 
 mingling with those that went before, arise in succession 
 to emotions, and with such rapidity as to give them 
 all, though many in number, an appearance of actual same- 
 ness, continuity, and permanency. 
 
 §. 371. Explanations and characteristics of emotions of beauty. 
 
 It is presumed, that no one is ignorant of what is meant, 
 vhen we speak of a melancholy emotion, of a cheerful 
 :-motion, of emotions of pain, of pity, of wonder, of 
 cheerfulness, of approval and the like. Among other 
 feelings of this nature are those, which have particular re- 
 lation to objects external to the mind, such as emotions of 
 beauty, grandeur, and sublimity. In/the present chap- 
 ter our attention will be particularly directed to those of 
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 Of the emotions of beauty it wilj be as difficult to give a 
 definition, so as to make them clearer to any one's com- 
 prehension than they already are, as to define the simple 
 
486 EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 
 
 sensations of colour, sound, or taste. We find in them, 
 however, these two marks or characteristics. 
 
 (1) The emotion of beauty, in the iirst place, is always 
 a pleasing ane. We never give the name to one, which is 
 painful, or to any feeling of disgust. Whenever, there- 
 fore, we speak of an emotion of beauty, we imply, in the 
 use of the terms, some degree of satisfaction or pleasure. 
 All persons, the illiterate as well as the scientific, use the 
 phrase with this import. (2) We never speak of emo- 
 tions of beauty, to whatever degree may be our experience 
 of inward satisfaction; without referring such emotions to 
 something external. The same emotion, which is called 
 satisfaction or delight of mind, when it is wholly and ex- 
 clusively internal, we find to be termed an emotion of 
 beauty, if we are able to refer it to something without, 
 and spread its charms around any external object. 
 
 §. 372. Of what is meant by beautiful objects. 
 
 There are a great variety of material objects, whicli 
 «xcite the emotion of beauty ; that is, when the objects are 
 presented, this emotion in a greater or less degree, (for 
 the emotion itself is susceptible of many varieties,) imme- 
 diately exists. But it is a common saying, and probably 
 will be deemed a just one, that material objects have nei- 
 ther beauty nor deformity in themselves ; neither value 
 nor want of it, independently of their applications and re- 
 sults. All bodies of matter are mere assemblages of par- 
 ticles, and the different arrangment of those particles 
 constitutes the sole difference between one object and an- 
 other. The ashes, that are mouldering in the tomb, do 
 not differ from the living form o f man in the materials, 
 but only in disposition and in symmetry. In themselves 
 considered, therefore, all bodies of matter are without 
 beauty ; the fairest creations of architecture, and the dust, 
 on which they are erected, are alike in that respect ; all 
 are originally destitute of that interest, which we denomi- 
 nate beauty. 
 
 The beauty of objects being something not in the na- 
 ture of the things themselvesjalthough we constantly speak 
 
EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 487 
 
 of them as possessing that quality, it is necessary to enter 
 
 into some explanation.' Whenever certain objects are 
 
 presented to us, there is a feeling of pleasure, in a 
 higher or less degree. This feeling, which is termed an 
 emotion of beauty, does not exist, it will readily be ad- 
 mitted, in the object, which cannot be supposed to be sus- 
 ceptible of it, but in the mind which contemplates the ob" 
 ject. And here we have the solution of the point, on 
 which we are remarking. 
 
 We have from earliest childhood been in the habit of 
 referring this mental emotion, of which no inanimate ob- 
 ject can possibly be susceptible, to external objects, as its 
 antecedent. We have made this reference for so long a 
 time, and so frequently, that at- last, in consequence of a 
 very tenacious association, the object itself seems to us to 
 be invested with delight, and to beam out with a sort of 
 mental radiance ; that is, to have qualities, which can tru- 
 ly and properly exist only in the mind. Such objects are 
 termed by us beautiful objects. 
 
 §. 373. Results of constantly referring emotions of beauty to the 
 outward cause. 
 
 The result of this strong and early disposition, to refer 
 the emotions within us to those external objects, which are 
 the antecedents to them, is, that all material creation is 
 clothed over again. There is a beauty in the sun ; there 
 is a beauty in the moon walking in brightness, and in 
 the attendant stars ; there is a beauty in the woods and 
 waters ; and blossom, and flo\Yer, and,fruit are all invest- 
 ed with the same transferred or reflected splendour. 
 But annul the emotions of the mind, which throws back 
 its own inward light on the objects around it ; and the sun 
 will become dark, and the moon v/ill withhold its shining, 
 and the flower will be no more delightful, than the sod, 
 from whose mouldering bosom it springs up. 
 
 But we do not wish to be misunderstood here. It is 
 admitted, on the supposition of all intelligence and feeling 
 beinff abolished, that the material world would still con- 
 tinue to be the same in itself, bu^ it would realize and la- 
 
488 EMOTIONS- OF BEAUTY. 
 
 merit, (if inanimate nature could be supposed to be capable 
 of feeling in any case^) the loss of the correlative and in- 
 terpreting mind. There would be the same substance, 
 the same outlines and forms, and the same qualities ; but 
 these forms and qualities would not have the same import, 
 the same signiiicancy. It must be evident, that sounds of 
 harmony and discordance, though different in themselves, 
 do not differ in their effects, when both are wasted on the 
 desert air. Nor is there any such difference in forms of 
 beauty and deformity, as would lay a foundation for the 
 application of those terms, where there is no eye to be- 
 hold, and no heart to rejoice in them. 
 
 §. 374. Extensive application of the term beauty. 
 
 Emotions of beauty are felt, and perhaps in a higher 
 degree than any where else, in the contemplation of objects 
 of sight, of woods, waters, azure skies, cultivated fields, 
 and particularly of the human form. But they are not 
 limited to these ; emotions, which not only bear the same 
 name, but are analogous in kind, exist also on the contem- 
 plation of many other things. 
 
 The sentiment or feeling of beauty exists, when we are 
 following out a happy train of reasoning ; and hence the 
 mathematician, who certainly has a delightful feeling, an- 
 alogous to what v/e experience in contemplating many 
 works of nature, speaks of a beautiful theorem. 
 
 The connoisseur in music applies the term beautiful to 
 a favourite air ; the lover of poetry speaks of a beautiful 
 song ; and the painter discovers beauty in the design, and 
 in the colouring of his pictures. ¥/e apply the term, beauty, 
 to experiments in the different departments of physics ; 
 especially when the experiment is simple, and results in 
 deciding a point, which has occasioned doubt and dispute. 
 
 Also, in the contemplation of moral actions, we find 
 the same feelings. The approbation, which we yield, 
 when the poor are relieved, and the weak are defended, 
 and the vicious are reclaimed, and any other deeds of vir- 
 tue are done, is always attended with a delightful move- 
 ment of the heart. --—- So lliat all nature, taking the word 
 
EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 4S9 
 
 in a wide sense, is the province of beauty ; the intellectu- 
 al, and the moral, as well as the material world. There 
 is such an analogy, such a resemblance in the feelings in 
 all these cases, that, if the term beauty ho. proper to ex- 
 press one, it is no less appropriate to all. It is in truth 
 constituted a common name^ expressive of a variety of emo- 
 tions, arising on different occasions, but always pleasing, 
 and varying rather in the occasions of their origin and in 
 de^^ree, than in tlieir real nature. 
 
 In particular, they agree in their nature as to this,-we 
 refer all the emotions, which come under the denomina- 
 tion of beauty, to the objects, whatever they may be, 
 which are found immediately and constantly to precede 
 them. The charm of the mind, which exists solely in 
 ourselves, seems to flow out and. to spread itself over the 
 severest labours of intellect, over the creations of the ar- 
 chitect, over the fictions of the imagination, over virtu- 
 pus moral actions, and whatever else we call beautiful, no 
 less than upon those forms of material nature, which fill 
 us with delight. 
 
 §. ^Ib. All objects not equally fitted to excite emotions of 
 beauty. 
 
 From what has been said, it- must be evident, that 
 there is a correspondence between the mind and the out- 
 ward objects, which are addressed to it. This has al- 
 ready been clearly seen in respect to the sensations and 
 external perceptions ; and it is not less evident in respect 
 to that part of our nature, which we are now attending 
 to. The mind, and the external world, and the external 
 circumstances of our situation in general are reciprocally 
 suited to each other. Hence, when we ascribe the quality 
 of beauty to any object, we have reference to this mutual 
 adaptation. An object is ordinarily called beautiful, when 
 it has agreeable qualities; in other w^ords, when it is the 
 cause or antecedent of the emotion of beauty. 
 
 But no one can be ignorant, that not all objects cause 
 the emotions ; and of those which do, some have this 
 power in a greater, and some in a less degree. This brincrs 
 62 "* 
 
490 EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 
 
 us to a very important inquiry. It is no unreasonable curi- 
 osity, which wishes to know, why the effect is so limited, 
 apd why all objects are not embraced in it ? Why dif- 
 ferent objects cause the same emotion in different degrees? 
 And why the same objects produced! diversity of emotions 
 in different individuals, and even in the same individual 
 at different times ? 
 
 §. o76. A susceptibility of emotions of beauty an ultimate prin- 
 ciple of our constitution. 
 
 In answering these questions, something must be taken 
 for granted, there must be some starting point ; otherwise 
 all that can be said, will be involved in inextricable con- 
 fusion. That is, we must take for granted, that the mind 
 has an original susceptibility of such emotions. Nor can 
 we suppose, there can be any objection to a concession, 
 which is warranted by the most general experience. We 
 all know, that we are cteated with this susceptibility, be- 
 cause we are all conscious of having had those emotions, 
 which are attributed to it. And if we are asked. How, or 
 why it is, that the susceptibility at the bottom of these 
 feelings exists, we can only say, that such was the will of 
 the Being, who created the mind ; and that this is one of 
 the original or ultimate elements of our nature. 
 
 Although the mind, therefore, is originally susceptible 
 of emotions, as every one knows ; still it is no less evident 
 from the general arrangements we behold, both in physical 
 and in intellectual nature, that these emotions have their 
 fixed causes or antecedents. We have seen, that these 
 causes are not limited to one class or kind ; but are to be 
 found under various circumstances ; in the exercises of 
 reasoning, in the fanciful creations of poetry, in musical 
 airs, in the experiments of physics, in the forms of materi- 
 al existence, and the like. /Vs a general statement, these 
 objects cannot be presented to the mind, and the mind be 
 unmoved by it ; it contemplates them, and it necessarily 
 has a feeling of delight of a greater or less degree of 
 strength. 
 
 In asserting, that this is correct as a general statement, 
 
, EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 491 
 
 it is implied, that some objects do not originally cause 
 these emotions. And hence we are led to enter into more 
 particular inquiries. 
 
 §. 37T. Remarks on the beauty of forms. • 
 
 In making that selection of those objects, and qualities 
 of objects, which we suppose to be fitted, in the original 
 constitution of things, to cause within us pleasing emo- 
 tions of themselves, independently of any extraneous aid, 
 we cannot profess to speak with certainty. The appeal is 
 to the general experience of men ; and all we can do, is, 
 to give, as far as it seems to have been ascertained, the 
 esults of that experience. Beginning, therefore, with 
 material objects, we are justified by general experience in 
 saying, that certain dispositions or forms of matter arc 
 beautiful ; for instance, the circle. 
 
 We rarely look upon a winding or serpentine form, 
 without experiencing a feeling of pleasure ; and on seeing 
 a circle, this pleasure is heightened. Hence Hogarth, in 
 his Analysis of Beauty, expressly lays it down, that those 
 lines, which have most variety in themselves, contribute 
 much towards the production of beauty, and that the most 
 beautiful line, by which a surface can be bounded, i^s the 
 waving or serpentine, or that which constantly, but imper- 
 ceptibly deviates from the straight line. This, which we 
 frequently find in shells, flowers, and other pleasing nat- 
 ural productions, he calls the line of beauty. And was 
 not Hogarth right in the opinion, that there is at least a 
 degree of beauty in such 'outlines, whether they are the 
 most beautiful or not? Refer it to any man's experience, 
 and let him say, when he gathers on the seashore wreathed 
 and variegated shells, or beholds through distant meadows 
 the winding stream, or pauses in pathless woods to gaze 
 on the flowing features of the rose, does he not at once 
 feel within him a spontaneous movement of delight ? Is 
 not the object, which is directly before him, in itself a 
 source of this feeling ? Although he- may have a super- 
 added pleasure from some other source, as we shall have 
 occasion to see ; still, considering the subject particularly 
 
492 EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 
 
 in reference to the object before him, may not the true 
 philosophy be summed up in the single assertion, that he 
 sees, and feels ; that he beholds, and admires. It results, 
 therefore, from the common experience of mankind, that 
 objects, which are circular, or approach that form, or ex- 
 hibit an irregular, but serpentine outline, have a degree of 
 beauty. What can be imagined more beautiful than the 
 arch of the rainbow, stretching over our heads from 
 the rising of the sun to its 'going down, even if nothing 
 but the form and the outline were presented to our vis- 
 ion, without the unrivalled splendour of its colours? The 
 dark blue hemisphere of the visible sky is a beautiful ob- 
 ject, although it undoubtedly becomes more so, when 
 from time to time the golden companies of stars gleam 
 upward from its unsearchable depths. 
 
 There remains, howeverj this explanatory remark. — 
 We have much reason to believe, that the emotion will 
 be stronger in all cases, in proportion as the beautiful ob- 
 ject is distinctly and immediately embraced by the mind. 
 Perhaps it may be said with some good reason, that the 
 square form has a degree of beauty, as well as the circle ; 
 although it cannot be doubted, that it has less. And it is 
 matter of inquiry, whether the difference in this respect 
 is owing so much to the original power of the forms 
 themselves, as to the circumstance just alluded to ; in 
 other words, whether it be not owing to the fact, that the 
 circle, beint^ more simple, makes a more direct, entire, and 
 powerful impression ; whereas the attention is divided 
 among the sides and angles of a square. 
 
 §. 378. Of the original beauty of colour. 
 
 We experience what may be termed an original emo- 
 tion, which is pleasing, in beholding colours. We are 
 able merely to allude to abundant sources in proof of this, 
 without entering, at the present time, into a full exposi- 
 tion of them. 
 
 (1) The pleasure, which results from the mere behold- 
 ing of colours, may be observed in very early life. It is 
 ^n consequence of this pleasing emotion, that the infant so 
 
EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 493 
 
 early directs its eyes towards the Iight5that breaks in from 
 the window, or which reaches the sense of vision from any 
 other source. It is pleasing to see with what evident ex- 
 tacy, the child rushes from flower to flower, and com- 
 pares their brilliancy. Casting his eyes abroad in the pur- 
 suit of objects, that are richly variegated, he pauses to 
 gaze with admiration on every tree, that is most profuse- 
 ly loaded with blossoms, or that is burdened with fruit of 
 the deepest red and yellow. It is because he is attracted 
 with the brightness of its wings, that he pursues the but- 
 terfly with a labour so unwearied, or suspends his sport to 
 watch the wayward movements of the humming bird. 
 
 (2) The same results are found also, very strikingly 
 and generally, among all savage tribes. Not unfrequently 
 the untutored sons of the forest forget the ardour of the 
 chace in their speculations on the wild roses by the wayside. 
 Seeing how beautiful the fish of their lakes and riv- 
 ers_, and the bird of their forests, and the forest tree itself 
 is rendered by colours, they commit the mistake of at- 
 tempting to render their own bodies more beautiful by 
 artificial hues. They value whatever dress they may 
 have, in proportion to the gaudiness of its colours ; they 
 weave rich and variegated plumes into the hair ; and as 
 they conjectured from his scarlet dress,that Columbus was 
 the Captain of the Spaniards, so they are wont to intimate 
 and express their own rank and dignity by the splendour 
 of their equipments. 
 
 And the same trait, which had been so often noticed 
 in Savages, may be observed also, though in a less degree, 
 among the uneducated classes in civilized communities. 
 In persons of refinement, the original tendency to receive 
 pleasing emotions from the contemplation of colours seems 
 to have, in a measure, lost its power, in consequence of 
 the developement of tendencies to receive pleasure from 
 other causes. 
 
 (3) We have another proof in persons, who have been 
 blind from birth, but in after life have been restored by 
 couching, or some other way. " I have couched, (says 
 
 Wardrop, speaking of James Mitchell,) one of his eyes 
 
494 EMOTIONS OP BEAUTY. 
 
 successfolly ; and he is much amused with the visible 
 world, though he mistrusts information, gained by that 
 avenue. One day I got him a new and gaudy suit of 
 clothes, which delighted him beyond description. It v/as 
 the most interesting scene of sensual gratification I ever 
 beheld."* 
 
 §. 379. Of sounds 'considered as a source of beauty. 
 
 We next inquire into the application of these principles 
 in respect to sounds. And here also we have reason to 
 believe, that they hold good ; that certain sounds are 
 pleasing of themselves ; and are hence, agreejably to views 
 already expressed, termed beautiful. Examine, for in- 
 stance, musical sounds. It is true, that in different na- 
 tions, we find different casts or styles of music ; but not- 
 withstanding this, certain successions of sounds, viz. those, 
 which have certain mathematical proportions in their 
 times of vibration, are alone pleasing. As, therefore, not 
 all series of sounds are beautiful^ but only those of a par- 
 ticular character, and these are every where found to ex- 
 cite emotions of beauty without exception ; the presump- 
 tion is, that they possess this power originally ; they please 
 us because the mind is so formed, that it cannot be oth- 
 erwise. It is possible, that the emotion may be small, 
 but it undoubtedly has an existence in some degree, and 
 can be accounted for in no other way. 
 
 So true is this, and so obvious to every one's notice; 
 that we can hardly be expected to attempt a confirmation 
 of it by an appeal to any facts in particular. If it were 
 necessary, well established facts would not be wanting. 
 How many instances might be pointed out, like that of 
 the Spaniards when they first came to America. In their 
 traffic with the native inhabitants, the latter frequently 
 purchased of them small bells ; and it is asserted, that 
 when they hung them on their persons, and heard their 
 clear musical sounds, responding to their movements as 
 
 * As quoted by Mr. Stewart in hia account; of Mitchell, Vol. III., 
 of the Elements of the Philosophy of the Mind. 
 
JSMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 495 
 
 they danced, they were filled, with extacy; nothing could 
 exceed their wild delight. It is further related of one of 
 the Jesuit missionaries at a later period, that once coming 
 into the company of certain ignorant and fierce Indians, 
 he met with a rude and menacing reception, which fore- 
 boded no very favourable termination. As it was not his 
 design, however, to enter into any contention, if it could 
 possibly be avoided, he immediately commenced playing 
 on a stringed instrument ; their feelings were softened 
 at once, and the evil spirit of jealousy ^nd anger, which 
 they exhibited on his first approach to them, fled from 
 their minds.* 
 
 It is not necessary in this inquiry to look solely to high- 
 ly civilized life, to the productions of the great masters of 
 musical compositions, to companies of the most skilful 
 performers, who on set and great occasions extract such 
 strong admiration by " dulcet symphonies and voices 
 sweet ;" we wish rather to interrogate human nature in its 
 rude estate, and we shall find it giving but one answer. 
 Let some wandering musician suddenly take up his quar- 
 ters in ^country village, and enact the Orpheus even on 
 a hand-organ, if it be one of tolerable excellence of con- 
 struction ; and as the swell of harmony sweeps along the 
 street, it comes \vith a power, which reminds one of the 
 marvels of ancient fable ; the faces of those, who stand 
 in the corners of the streets, are directed towards the 
 sound ; groups of children leave their sports and emulous- 
 ly rush to the spot ; delighted countenances cluster at the 
 windows ; the din of conversation and the noisy activity 
 of business is hushed, and the very trees seem to nod with 
 approbation. Such is the potency of music ; such is the 
 charm of sweet sounds, coming forth not under the most 
 favourable circumstances, to sooth and control, to refine 
 and exalt and govern human passion. 
 
 *See Irving's Life and Voyages of Cokimbu?, Chap, ix, London 
 Quarterly Review, Vol. xxvi, p, 287. 
 
496 EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 
 
 4. 380. Of motion as an element of beauty . 
 
 Motion has usually been reckoned an element of beau- 
 ty, and very justly. A forest, or a field of grain, gently 
 
 waved by the wind, affects us pleasantly. The motion of 
 a winding river pleases ; and this, not only because the 
 river is serpentine, but because it is never at rest. We 
 are delighted with the motion of a ship, as it cleaves the 
 sea under full sail. We look on, as it moves like a thing 
 of life, and are pleased without being able to control our 
 feelings, or to tell, whj^ they exist. And the waves too 
 around it, which a*re continually approaching and depart- 
 ing, and curling upward in huge masses, ancl then break- 
 ing asunder into fragments of every shape, present a much 
 more pleasing appearance, than they would, if profoundly 
 quiet and stagnant. 
 
 With what happy enthusiasm we behold the foaming 
 cascade, as it breaks out from the summit of the mountain, 
 and dashes downward to its base! With what pleasing 
 satisfaction, we gaze upon a column of smoke, ascending 
 from a cottage in a wood ;^— a trait in outward *enery, 
 which landscape painters, who must certainly be account- 
 ed good judges of what is beautiful in the aspects of ex- 
 ternal nature, are exceedingly fond of introducing. It 
 may be said in this case, we are -aware, that the pleasure, 
 arising from beholding the ascending smoke of the cot- 
 tage, is caused by the favourite suggestions, which are 
 connected with it, of rural seclusion, peace, and abun- 
 dance. But there is much reason to believe, that the 
 feeling would be to some extent the same, if it were known 
 to ascend from the uncomfortable wigwam of the Savas^e, 
 from an accidental conflagration, or from the fires of a 
 
 wandering horde of gypsies. And if motion, on the 
 
 limited scale, on which we are accustomed tb view it, be 
 beautiful, how great v*^ould be the expansion and extacy of 
 our feelings, if we conkl be placed on some pinnacle of the 
 universe, and behold beneath us the worlds, suns, and sys- 
 tems of infinite space, with endless progress and perfect 
 
EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 497 
 
 regularity, "wheeling unshaken through the void im- 
 mense." 
 
 §. 381. Of intellectual and moral objects as a source oj the 
 beautijul. 
 
 But we are not to suppose, that there is nothing but mat- 
 ter, and its relations^ and its accessories of rest, motion, 
 and sound, which are the foundations of the beautiful. The 
 v/orld of mind also, so far as it can be brought before our 
 contemplation, calls forth similar emotions. — ^The hu- 
 man countenance is a beautiful object ; nature has deci- 
 dedly given that characteF to the curving outline of the 
 lips and forehead, the ger.tle illuminations of the eye, and 
 the tints of the cheeks, but they convey ideas of mind ; 
 they may be regarded as natural indications and signs of 
 the soul, which is lodged behind them; and although the 
 human countenance is pleasing of itself, the thought and 
 feeling and amiability, of which it is significant, are plea- 
 sing also. We may perhaps illustrate our meaning by an- 
 other instance. If we fix our . attention upon two men, 
 whoseoutward appearance is the same, but one of them is 
 far more distinguished than the other for clearness of per- 
 ception, extent of knowledge, and allth^ essentials of true 
 wisdom, we certainly look upon him with a higher de- 
 gree of complacency. And this complacency is greatly 
 heightened, if we can add to these intellectual qualities 
 certain qualities of the heart or of the moral character-such 
 as a strong love of truth, justice, and benevolence. 
 
 It is true, that in the present life intellectual and mor- 
 al objects are brought before our contemplation only in a 
 comparatively small degree, surrounded and almost en- 
 cumbered, as v^e are, with material things ; but they are, 
 nevertheless, proper objects of knowledge, and are among 
 the great sources of beauty. There is no object of con- 
 templation more pleasing or even enrapturing than the 
 Supreme Being ; but it) contemplating the Deity, we 
 do not contemplate an outward and accessible pic- 
 ture, or a statue of wood and stone, but merely a com- 
 plex internal conception, which embraces certain intel- 
 63' 
 
498 EMOTIONS OF BEAUTY. 
 
 lectual and moral qualities and powers, and excludes ev- 
 ery thing of a purely material kind. Now when we 
 dwell upon the parts of this great and glorious concep- 
 tion, and follow them out into the length and breadth, 
 and height and depth of infinite wisdom, of infinite be- 
 nevolence, of omnipotence and justice unsearchable, and 
 of other attributes, which are merged together and as- 
 similated in this great sun of moral perfection, we find 
 such a splendour, and such a fitness in them, that we can- 
 not but be filled with delight ; like the disciples, that 
 were travelling to Emmaus, when we think upon these 
 things, our heart burns within us. 
 
CHAPTER SECOND. 
 
 OF ASSOCIATED BEAUTY. 
 
 §. 382. Objects may become beautiful by association merely. 
 
 There is another view to be taken of this interesting 
 subject. While some of the forms, of which matter is 
 susceptible, are pleasing of themselves and originally, 
 while we are unable to behold bright colours, and to lis- 
 ten to certain sounds, and to gaze upon particular expres- 
 sions of the countenance, and to contemplate high intel- 
 lectual and moral excellence, without emotions, in a great- 
 er or less degree delightful ; it must be admitted, that, in 
 the course of our experience, we find a variety of objects,that 
 seem^as they are presented to us, to be unattended with any 
 emotion whatever ; objects, that are perfectly indifferent.. 
 And yet these objects, however wanting in beauty to the 
 great mass of men,- are found to be invested, in the minds 
 of some, with a charm, allowedly not their own. These 
 objects, which previously excited no feelings of beauty, 
 may become beautiful to us in consequence of the associa- 
 tions, which we attach to them. That is to say, when 
 the objects are beheld, certain former pleasing feelings, 
 peculiar to ourselves, are recalled. 
 
• 
 
 500 OF ASSOCIATED BEAUTY. 
 
 The lustre of a spring morning, the radiance of a sum- 
 mer evening may of themselves excite in us a pleasing 
 etnotion ; but as our busy imagination, taking advantage 
 of the images of delight, which are before us, is ever at 
 work and constantly forming new images, there is, in com- 
 bination with the original emotion of beauty, a superadded 
 delight. And if, in these instances, only a part of the 
 beauty is to be ascribed to association, there are some oth- 
 ers, where the whole is to be considered, as derived from 
 that source. 
 
 Numerous instances can be given of the power of as- 
 sociation, not only in heightening the actual charms of 
 objects, but in spreading a sort of delegated lustre around 
 those, that were entirely uniiiterestiDg before. Why does 
 yon decaying house appear beautiful to me, which is in- 
 different to another ? Why are the desolate fields around 
 it clothed with delight, while others see in them nothing, 
 that is pleasant ? It is, because that house formerly de- 
 tained me, as one of its inmates, at its fireside, and those 
 fields were the scenes of many youthful sports. When I 
 now behold them, after so long a time, the joyous emo- 
 tions, which the remembrances of my early days call up 
 within me, are, by the power of association, thrown 
 around the objects, which are the cause of the remem- 
 brances. 
 
 §. o83. Further illustrations of associated feelings. 
 
 He, who travels through a well-cultivated country 
 towm, cannot but be pleased with the varioils objects, 
 which he beholds ; the neat and comfortable dwellings ; 
 the meadows, that are peopled with flocks, and with herds 
 of cattle ; the fields of grain, intermingled with reaches 
 of thick and dark forest. The whole. scene is a beautiful 
 one ; the emotion we suppose to be partly original; a per- 
 son on being restored to sight by couching for the catar- 
 act, and having had no opportunity to form associations 
 with it, would witness it for the first time wdth delight. 
 But a greater part of the pleasure is owing to the associ- 
 ated feelings, which arise, on beholding such a Ecene ; 
 
OF ASSOCIATED BEAUTY. 501 
 
 these dwellings are the abode of man ; these fields are 
 the place of his labours, and amply reward him for his 
 toil]; here are contentment, the interchange of heartfelt 
 joys, and "ancient truth." 
 
 Those, who have travelled over places, that have been 
 signalized by memorable events, will not suspect us of at- 
 tributing too great a share of our emotions to association. 
 It is true that in a country so new as America, we are un- 
 able to point so frequently, as an European might do, to 
 places, that have witnessed the gallantry and patriotism 
 of ancient times. But there are some such consecrated 
 spots. With whatever emotions the traveller may pass 
 up the banks of the Hudson, he cannot but find his feel- 
 ings much more deeply arrested at Stillwater and at Sar- 
 atoga, the scenes of memorable battles with the armies of 
 England and of the surrender of Burgoyne, than at any 
 other places. It was there, that brave men died ; it 
 was there, that an infant people threv/ defiance at a power- 
 ful enemy, and gave sanguinary proof of their determina- 
 tion to be free. A thousand recollections have gathered 
 upon such places, and the heart overflows with feeling al 
 beholding them. 
 
 The powerful feeling, which here exists, whether we 
 call it an emotion of beauty, or sublimity, or give it a 
 name, expressive of some intermediate grade, is essential- 
 ly the same with that, which is caused in the bosom of 
 the traveller, when he looks for the first time upon the 
 hills of the city of Rome. There are o.her cities of great- 
 er extent, and washed by nobler rivers, than the one, 
 which is before him ; but upon no others has he ever ga- 
 zed with such intensity of feeling. He beholds v/liat was 
 once the mistress of the world ; he looks upon the ancient 
 dwelling place of Brutus, of Cicero, and of the Caesars. 
 The imagination is at once peopled with whatever was 
 noble in the character, and great in the achievements of 
 that extraordinary nation ; and there is a strength, a full- 
 ness of emotion, which, without these stirring remem- 
 brances, would be very sensibly diminished. 
 
502 OF ASSOCIATED BEAUTY. 
 
 §. 384. Instances of national association. 
 
 Tlie iniliience of association in rousing up, and in o-iv- 
 ing strength to particular classes of emotions, may be 
 strikingly seen in some national instances. -Every coun- 
 try has its favourite tunes. These excite a much stronger 
 feeling.in the native inhabitants, than in strangers. The 
 effect on the Swiss soldiers of the Ranz des Vaches, their 
 national air, whenever they have happened to hear it in 
 foreign lands, has often been mentioned. So great was 
 this effect, that it was found necessary in Prance, to for- 
 bid its being played in the Swiss corps in the employment 
 of the French government. The powerful effect of this 
 song cannot be supposed to be owing to any peculiar 
 merits in the composition ; but to the pleasing recollec- 
 tions, which it ever vividly brings up in the minds of the 
 Swiss, of mountain life, of freedom, and domestic pleas- 
 ures. 
 
 The English have a. popular tune, called |Belleisle 
 March.. Its popularity is said to have been owing to the 
 circumstance, that it was played when the English army 
 marched into Belleisle, and to its consequent association 
 with remembrances of war and of conquest. And it will 
 be found true of all national airs, that they have a charm 
 for 'the natives of the country, in consequence of the re- 
 collections connected with them, which they do not pos- 
 sess for the inhabitants of other countries. 
 
 We have albundant illustrations of the same fact in res- 
 pect to colours. The purple colour has acquired an ex- 
 pression or character of dignity, in consequence of having 
 been the common colour of the dress of kings ; amono- 
 the Chinese, however, yellow is the most dignified colour, 
 and evidently for no other reason, than because yellow is 
 that, which is allotted to the royal family. In many coua.. 
 tries, black. is expressive of gravity, and is used particu- 
 larly in seasons of distress and mourning ; and white is a 
 cheerful colour. But among the Chinese white is gloomy, 
 because it is the dress of mourners ; and 'in Spain and ' 
 
OF ASSOCIATED BEAUTY. 503 
 
 among tlie Venetians black has a cheerful expression, in 
 consequence of its being worn by the great. 
 
 Many other illustrations to the same purpose might be 
 brought forward. The effect of association is not unfre- 
 quentiy such as to suppress entirely and throw out the 
 original character of an bbject, and* substitute a new one 
 in its stead. Who has not felt, both in man and woman, 
 that a single crime, that even one unhappy deed of mean- 
 ness or dishonour is capable of throwiiig a darkness and 
 distortion over the charms of the most perfect form.? The 
 glory seems to have departed : and no effort of reasoning 
 or of imagination can fully restore it. 
 
 §. 385. Differences of original susceptibility of this emotion. 
 
 Supposing it to be true, that we possess an original 
 susceptibility of emotions of beauty, independently of 
 association and of considerations of mere utility, it seems, 
 however, to be the fact, that this susceptibility is found 
 existing in different degrees in different persons. Let the 
 same beautiful objects be presented to two persons, and 
 one will be Immd not only to be affected, but ravished, 
 as it were, with feelings of beauty ; while the other will 
 have the same kind of emotions, but in a very diminished 
 degree.— A great degree of susceptibility of emotions of 
 beauty is usually termed sensibility. 
 
 •The differences of men in this respect may justly be 
 thought, where we cannot account for it by any thing in 
 their education or mental culture, to be constitutional. 
 Nor is it more strange, that men should be differently af- 
 fected by the same beautiful objects, in consequence of some 
 difference of constitution, than that they should constitu- 
 tionally have different passions; that one should be choler- 
 ic, another of a peaceable turn ; that one should be mild 
 and yielding another inflexible. 
 
 §, 386. Summary of views in regard to the beautiful. 
 
 As the subject of emotions of beauty is one of no small 
 difficulty, it may be of advantage to give here a brief sum- 
 mary of some of the prominent views in respect to it. 
 
504 OF ASSOCIATED BEAUTY. 
 
 (1) Of emotions of beauty it is difficult to give a defi- 
 nition, but we notice in them two marks or characteris- 
 tics ; — They imply first, a degree of pleasure, and 2dly, 
 are always referred by us to an external object. 
 
 (2) No objects are beautiful of themselves, and'inde- 
 pendently of the soul', which contemplates them, (unless 
 perhaps reasoi) should be found for^making an exception 
 in favour of purely intellectual and moral objects,) but 
 nevertheless they appear to have a degree of splendour or 
 beauty in consequence of our having reflected back upon 
 them, constantly, and from a very early period, the feel- 
 ings, which exist in our own minds. 
 
 (3) The feeling, which we term an emotion of beauty, 
 is not limited to natural scenery, but may be caused by 
 works of art, by creations of the imagination, by the se- 
 verest efforts of reasoning, and by the various forms of 
 intellectual and moral nature, so far as they can be pre- 
 sented to the mind. On all these the mind may reflect 
 back the lustre of its own emotions, and mai^e them beam 
 out with a species of splendour, whether ther^be any orig- 
 inally in the objects or not ; and this is don^n the same 
 manner, as when we diffuse our sensations of colour, 
 which are merely affections of the mind, over the objects, 
 which we call red, white, yellow, &c. 
 
 (4) There is in the mind an original susceptibility of 
 emotions in general, and of those of beauty in particular ; 
 and not only this, some objects are found, 'in the constitu- 
 tion of things, to be followed by these feelings of beauty, 
 while others are not ; and such objects are spoken of as 
 being originally beautiful. That is, when the object- is 
 presented to the mind, it is of itself followed by emotions 
 of beauty, without being aided by the influence of acces- 
 sory and contingent circumstances. 
 
 (5) Without pretending to certainty in fixing upon 
 those objects, to which, what is termed original or prima- 
 ry beauty may be ascribed, there appears to be no small 
 reason, in attributing it to certain forms, to sounds of a 
 particular character, to bright colours, and to intellectual 
 and moral excellence in general. 
 
OF ASSOCIATED BEAUTY. 505 
 
 (6) Many objects, wliich cannot be considered beauti- 
 ful of themselves, become such by being associated with 
 a variety of former pleasing and enlivening recollections ; 
 and such, as possess beauty of themselves, may augment 
 the pleasing emotions from the same cause. Also much 
 of the difference of opinion, which exists as to what ob- 
 jects are beautiful, and what are not, is to be ascribed to 
 association. 
 
 §. 3S7. Of picturesque beauty. 
 
 We apply the term picturesque to whatever objects 
 cause in us emotions of beauty^ in which the beauty does 
 not consist in a single circumstance ])y itself, but in a 
 considerable number, in a happy state of combination. 
 The meanlno; of the term is analogous to the signification 
 of some others of a like termination, which are derived 
 to us from the Italian through the medium of the French. 
 Mr. Stewart remarks of the word, arahesquCy that it ex- 
 presses something in the style of the Arabians ; moresque^ 
 something irf the style of the Moors ; and grotesque^ some- 
 thing which bears a resemblance to certain whimsical 
 delineations in a grotto or subterranean apartment at 
 Rome. In like manner, picturesque^ originally implied 
 what is done in the style and spirit of a painter, who or- 
 dinarily places before us an object made up of a number 
 of circumstances, in such a state of combination as to give 
 pleasure. 
 
 The epithet may be applied to paintings, to natural 
 scenery, poetical descriptions, &c. The following des- 
 cription from Thompson, which assembles together some 
 of the circumstances, attending the cold, frosty nights of 
 winter, is highly picturesque. 
 
 " Loud rings the frozen earth and hard reflects 
 "A double noise ; while, at his evening watch, 
 "The village dog deters the nightly thief; 
 '•'The heifer lows ; the distant waterfall 
 "Swells in the breeze ; and with the hasty tread 
 "Of traveller, the hollow sounding plain 
 "Shakes from alar." 
 • . 64 
 
CHAPTER THIRD. 
 
 EMOTIONS OF SUBLIMITY. 
 
 §. 388. Connection behoeen beauty and sublimity. 
 
 Those emotionsj which we designate as sublime, are 
 a class of feelings, which have much. in common with emo- 
 tions of beauty ; they do not differ so much in nature or 
 kind, as in degree. When we examine the feelings, which 
 go under these two designations, we readily perceive, that 
 they have a progression ; that there are numerous degrees 
 in point of intensity ; but the emotion, although more viv- 
 id in one case than the other, and mingled with some for- 
 eign elements, is for the most part essentially the same. 
 So that it is, by no means, impossible to trace a connec- 
 tion even between the fainter feelings of beauty, and the 
 most overwhelming emotions of the sublime. 
 
 This progression of our feelings from one, that is gen- 
 tle and pleasant, to one, that is powerful and even painful, 
 has been happily illustrated in the case of a person, who is 
 supposed to behold a river at its first rise in the mountains, 
 and to follow it, as it winds and enlarges in the subjacent 
 plains, and to behold it at last losing itself in the expanse 
 of the ocean. For a time the feelings, which are excited 
 within him, as he gazes on the prospect, are what are 
 termed emotions of beauty. As the small stream, which 
 had hitherto played in the uplands and amid foliage, that 
 
EMOTIONS OF SUBLIMITY. 507 
 
 almost hid it from his view, increases, its waters, separates 
 its banks to a great distance from each other, and becomes 
 the majestic river, his feelings are of a more powerful 
 kind. We often, by way of distinction, speak of the feel- 
 ings existing under such circumstances, as emotions of 
 grandeur. At last it expands and disappears in the im- 
 mensity of the ocean : the vast, illimitable world of bil- 
 lows flashes in the sight. Then the emotion, widening 
 and strengthening with the magnitude and energy of the 
 objects, which accompany it, becomes sublime. Emo- 
 tions of sublimity, therefore, chiefly differ, at least in 
 most instances, from those of beauty in being more vivid 
 and powerful. 
 
 § . 389. Occasions of emotions of sublimity. — Vast extent and 
 
 height. 
 
 As the nature of sublime emotions • is a matter of each 
 one's individual consciousness, and cannot be made per- 
 fectly clear to the comprehension of others by any mere 
 description or definition, it will aid in the better under- 
 standing of them, if we mention some of the occasions 
 on which they arise. — — Among other occasions, this emo- 
 tion is*found to exist, whenever it happens, that we have 
 our attention called to objects of vast extent. According- 
 ly mountains of great altitude, the celestial vault, when 
 seen from high summits, vast plains, beheld from a com- 
 manding position, the ocean, &c.. affect us with sublime 
 emotions. 
 
 The ancients were in the habit of throwing together 
 heaps of stones in commemoration of individuals or of 
 some great events. The contemplation of such an heap, 
 if it were one of small magnitude, would not be attended 
 with sublime emotions ; but probably it would become 
 such in some decree, if it were increased to the size of an 
 Egyptian pyramid. So that we may regard mere expan- 
 sion or enlargement, whether we find it in the works of 
 nature or art, an element of the sublime. 
 
 Mere height, independently of considerations of ex- 
 pansion or extent; appears also to constitute an occasion 
 
508 EMOTIONS OF SUBLIMITY. 
 
 of the sublime. Every one has experienced this, when 
 standing at the base of a very steep and lofty cliff, hill, or 
 mountain. Travellers have often spoken of the sublime 
 emotion, occasioned by viewing the celebrated Natural 
 Bridge in Virginia, from the bottom of the deep ravine, 
 over which it is thrown. This bridge is a single solid 
 rock, about sixty feet broad, ninety feet long, and forty 
 thick. It is suspended over the head of the spectator, 
 who views it from the bottom of the narrow glen, at the 
 elevation of two hundred and thirty feet ; an immense 
 height for such an object. It is not in human nature to 
 behold vfithout strong feeling such a vast vault of solid 
 lime-stone, springing lightly into the blue upper air, and 
 remaining thus outstreched, as if it were the arm of the 
 Almighty himself, silent, unchangeable, and eternal. 
 
 When we are placed on the summit of any high ob- 
 ject, and look downward, the effect on the mind is nearly 
 the same. The sailor on the wide ocean, when in the 
 solitary watches of the night he casts his eye upward to 
 the lofty illumined sky, has a sublime emotion ; and he 
 feels the same strong sentiment stirring within him, when 
 a moment afterwards he thinks of the vast, unfathomable 
 abyss beneath him, over which he is suspended by the 
 frail plank of his vessel. No one can read Shakspeare's 
 description of Dover Cliffs, without feeling that there is a 
 sublimity in the depths beneath, as well as in the heights 
 above. 
 
 — : "How fearful 
 
 "^And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low ! ? 
 
 "The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, 
 "Show scarce so gross as beetles. Half-way down 
 "Hangg one, that gathers samphire, dreadful trade i 
 " Methinks he seems no bigger than his head. 
 ''The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, 
 "Appear like mice ; and yon tall anchoring bark 
 "Diminished to her boat ; her boat a buoy, 
 "Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge, 
 "That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafes, 
 "Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more; 
 
EMOTIONS OF SUBLIMITY. 509 
 
 ■^'Lest my brain turn, and the deficient sight 
 "Topple down headlong-. 
 
 §. 390. Indications of power attended by sublime emotions. 
 
 We also experience emotions of sublimity in the con- 
 templation of all objects, which indicate great exertions 
 of power; even when we have but very confused notions 
 of that energy, which we know to be somehow put forth. 
 Nothing can be more sublime, than a volcano throwing 
 out from its bosom, clouds, and burning stones, and im- 
 mense rivers of lava. An earthquake is sublime, when 
 the strength of some invisible hand upturns the strong 
 foundations both of art and nature. The ocean, greatly 
 agitated with a storm, and tossing the largest navies, as if 
 in sport, possesses an increase of sublimity, on account of 
 the more striking indications of power, which it at such 
 a time gives. The shock of large armies also, with the 
 power to take away the life, which nothing but a greater 
 power can give, is sublime. But in all these instances, as 
 in most others, the sublime emotion cannot be ascribed 
 solely to one cause ; something is to be attributed to vast 
 extent ; something to the original effect of the brilliancy 
 or darkness of colours ; and something to feelings of dread 
 and danger. 
 
 We often experience emotions of sublimity in witness- 
 ing objects, that move with very great swiftness. This is 
 one source of the feelings, which we have at beholding 
 bodies of water rushing violently down a cataract. For 
 the same reason, the hurricane, that hastens onward with 
 irresistible velocity, and lays waste whatever it meets, is 
 sublime. And here also we find a cause of part of that 
 sublime emotion, which men have often felt on seeing at a 
 distance the electric fluid, darting from the cloud to the 
 earth ; and at witnessing the flight of a meteor. 
 
 §. 391. Relation of the trait of sublimity to the emotions within, 
 
 ■* 
 
 But natural objects ar^e not sublime, any more than 
 they are beautiful in themselves ; in both cases, it is the 
 mind of man and that alone, which gives them the sub- 
 
510 EMOTIONS OF SUBLIMITY. 
 
 limity they seem to possess of their own nature. It is 
 true, all objects have certain inseparable characteristics or 
 qualities, which exist independently of all other objects 
 whether material or mental ; but then on the other hand, 
 these characteristics or qualities exhibit anew appearance, 
 and possess a new efficacy with the establishment of every 
 new relation. And it is no less true^ that there is a fixed 
 and established relation between material objects and the 
 mind of man ; they are, in an important sense, made for 
 each other ; there is a striking correspondence between 
 them. 
 
 The hurricane, the cataract, the lightning, when resolved 
 into their elements, are only a number of contiguous atoms. 
 And yet it seems to be unalterably fixed in the constitution 
 of things, that we cannot behold them without strong 
 feeling. The emotions, which we feel, are diffused by us 
 over the objects, that are their cause or more properly are 
 antecedent to them ; and this diffusion will be found to be 
 all, that constitutes their sublimity. When we speak of 
 the summits of the Alps, of the ocean, of a meteor, 
 of the cataract of • Niagara, of Vesuvius in flames, or 
 other objects in nature as being sublime, the epithet is evi- 
 dently applied in reference to those feelings, which the 
 objects excite within us. It cannot be presumed; that we 
 should call them thus, if they were perfectly indifferent 
 to us. 
 
 §. 392. Sublime objects have some elements of beauty. 
 
 We have seen, that a regular progression may, in most 
 instances, be traced from the beautiful to the sublime. It 
 seems, therefore, to follow, that instances of the sublime 
 will, on the removal of some circumstances, possess more 
 or less of the beautiful. And this, on examination, will 
 be found to be generally the case. Take, as an example, 
 the shock of powerful armies, which is confessedly a sub- 
 lime scene. We have only to remove the circumstance 
 of slaughter ; and at once the regular order of the troops, 
 their splendid dress and rapid movements, together with 
 the floating of banners and the sound of music, are ex- 
 
EMOTIONS OF SUBLIMITY. 511 
 
 ceedingly picturesque and beautiful ; nothing more so. 
 And all this is none the less beautiful, when thousands are 
 falling and dying in actual contest ; although the painful 
 emotion, consequent on witnessing a scene of slaughter, so 
 much overpowers the sense of the beautiful, that it appears 
 even not to have an existence. If the engagement between 
 the armies should be without the accompaniments of mil- 
 itary dress, and without order, and without strains of mu- 
 sic, but a mere struggle between man and man, with such 
 arms as came readiest int© their power, the scene, howev- 
 er destructive, would be any thing rather than sublime. 
 
 Diminish the force of the whirlwind to that of the 
 
 gentle breeze, and as it playfully sweeps by us,we feel that 
 emotion of pleasure, which is an element of the beauti- 
 ful. And so when the mighty cataract is dwindled down 
 to the cascade, we shall discover, that the tumultuous 
 emotions of the sublime are converted into the gentler 
 feelings of beauty. 
 
 §. 393. Of the original or primary sublimity .of objects. 
 
 If there be a connection between the beautiful and 
 sublime, if beauty, grandeur, and sublimity are only names 
 for various emotions, not so much differing in kind, as in 
 degree ; essentially the same views, which were advanced 
 in respect to beauty, will hold here. It will follow, that 
 if the contemplation of some objects is attended with emo- 
 tions of beauty, independently of associated feelings ; or, 
 in other words, if they have a primary or original beauty, 
 that there are .objects also originally sublime. Hence we 
 may conclude, that whatever has great height, or great 
 depth, or vast extent, or other attributes of the sublime, 
 will be able to excite in us emotions of sublimity of them- 
 selves, independently of the subordinate or secondary aid, 
 arising from any connected feelings. 
 
 §. 394. Proofs of the original sublimity of objects. 
 
 It may be inferred, that there is sucli primary or orig- 
 inal sublimity, not only in view of the connection, which 
 has been stated to exist between the beautiful and sub- 
 
512 EMOTIONS OF SUBLIMITY. 
 
 Hme, but because it is no doubt agreeable to the common 
 experience of men. But investing the proposition, (where 
 undoubtedly it ought to rest,) on experience, we must in- 
 quire, as in former chapters, into the feelings of the 
 young- And this, for the obvious reason, that, when per- 
 sons are somewhat advanced in age, it is difficult to sepa- 
 rate the primary from the secondary or associated sublim- 
 ity. They have then become inextricably mingled togeth- 
 er. Now take a child, and place him suddenly on the 
 
 shore of the ocean^ or in full sight of darkly wooded 
 mountains of great altitude, or before the clouds and fires 
 and thunders of volcanoes ; and, in most cases, he will be 
 filled with sublime emotions ; his mind will swell at the 
 perception ; it will heave to and fro, like the ocean itself 
 in a tempest. His eye, his countenance, his gestures will 
 • indicate a power of internal feeling, which the limited 
 language he can command is unable to express. This 
 may well be stated as a fact, because it has been frequently 
 noticed by those, who are competent to observe. 
 
 Again, if a person can succeed in conveying to a child 
 by means of words sublime ideas of whatever kind, similar 
 emotions will be found to exist, although generally in a 
 less degree, than when the objects are directly presented 
 to the senses. By way of confirming this, a statement of 
 the younger Lord Lyttleton, who seems- to have been nat- 
 urally a person of much sensibility, may be appealed to. 
 " Of all the poets (says that writer) who have graced an- 
 cient times, or delighted the latter ages, Milton is my fa- 
 vourite. I was quite a boy, when, in reading Paradise 
 Lost, I was so forcibly struck with a passage, that I laid 
 down the book with some violence on the table, and took 
 an hasty turn to the other end of the room. Your curiosity 
 may naturally expect to be gratified with the passage in 
 question. I quote it, therefore," for your reflection and 
 amusement." 
 
 " He spake ; and to confirm his words, out-ilevv 
 " Millions of llaming swords, drawn from the thighs 
 " Ofanighty Cherubim ; the sudden blaze 
 " Far round illumined Hell.* 
 
 'Lettersof the late Lord Lyttleton, i^xvi. • 
 
EMOTIONS OF SUBLIMITY. 513 
 
 §, 395. Influence of associaUon on emotions of sublimity. 
 
 Granting, that the sublime emotion is in part original, 
 still a great share of it is to be attributed to association. 
 As an illustration, we may refer to the effects of sounds. 
 When a sound suggests ideas of danger, as the report of 
 artillery, and the howling of a storm ; when it calls up 
 recollections of mighty power, as the fall of a cataract, 
 and the rumbling of an earthquake, the emotion of sub- 
 limity, which we feel, is greatly increased by such sug- 
 gestions. Few simple sounds are thought to have more 
 of sublimity, than the report of a cannon ; but how dif- 
 ferent, how much greater the strength of feeling, than on 
 other occasions, whenever we hear it coming to us from 
 the fields of actual conflict ! Many sounds, which are in 
 themselves inconsiderable, and are not much different 
 from many others, to which we do not attach the charac- 
 ter of sublimity, become highly sublime by association. 
 There is frequently a low feeble sound, preceding the 
 coming of a storm, which has this character. 
 
 "Along- the woods, along the moorish fens, 
 "Sighs the sad genius of the coming storm, 
 "'Resounding long in fancy's listening ear, 
 
 • , Thompson's Winter. 
 
 It is sometimes the case, that people, whose sensibili- 
 ties are much alive to thunder, mistake for it some com- 
 mon sounds, such as the noise of a carriage, or the rum- 
 bling of a cart. While they are under this mistake, they 
 feel these sounds as sublime ; because they associate with 
 them all those ideas of danger and of mighty power, 
 which they customarily associate with thunder. The 
 hoot of the owl at midnight is sublime chiefly by associa- 
 tion ; also the scream of the eagle, heard amid rocks and 
 deserts. The latter is particularly expressive of fierce 
 and lonely independence ; and both are connected in our 
 remembrance with some striking poetical passages. 
 65 
 
514 EMOTIONS OF SUBLIMITY. 
 
 § . £ 95 . Furtk er illuslrcdions of sub llmiiy from association , 
 
 The same results will be found to hold good in other 
 cases. Tlie sigiit of brokeo and heavy masses of dark 
 cloiids, drivei] about by the wind, is sublime. But how 
 mtjch more fruitful of emotion to tbose, who, in the days 
 of Fingal and Ossiaii, saw tlifem, in their piercing imagin- 
 ations, peopled with the ghosts of the dead ; with the as- 
 semblies of those, whose renown had continued to live 
 
 long after their bodies had mouldered ! " Temora's 
 
 woods shook with the blast of the inconstant wind. A 
 cloud gathered in the west. A red star looked from be- 
 hind its edge. I stood in the wood alone ; I saw a ghost 
 on the darkened air ; his stride extended from hill to hill. 
 His shield was dim on his side. It was the son of Semo."* 
 A view of the Egyptian pyramids animates us with sub- 
 lime emotions; it is impossible to behold such vast efforts of 
 human power, and be unmoved ; but the strength of these 
 feelings is increased by means of the solemn recollection^ 
 that they have stood unshakeujwhile successive generations 
 have fipurished and perished at their feet, and by their 
 being connected with many ideas of ancient magnificence, 
 of unknown kings, and with numerous incidents in the 
 history of a people, once famous for opulence and the arts, 
 but now no longer an independent nation. Mount Sinai 
 in Arabia Petraea is a rocky pile of considerable altitude, 
 and like other summits must have always excited some 
 emotion in those, who beheld it ; but when it is seen by a 
 Christian traveller, the sublime emotion is greatly increa- 
 sed by the recollection of the important place, which this 
 summit holds in the history of the Jews, and of its conse- 
 quent connection with the belief and the hopes of all those^ 
 who embrace the religion of the Saviour. 
 
 * Ossian^ Epic Pocmof Temora, Bk. 1. 
 
CBAPTER FOURTI-L 
 
 EMOTIONS OF THE LUDICROUS. 
 
 §. S26. General nature of emotions of the ludicrous. 
 
 In prosecuting the general subject of emotions, we are 
 next to consider another well known class, which are of a 
 character somewhat peculiar, viz. emotions of the ludicrous. 
 
 It is difficult to give a precise definition of this feeling, 
 although the same may be said of it, as in respect to emo- 
 tions of beauty, that it is a pleasant or delightful one. 
 But the pleasure, which we experience, receives a peculiar 
 modification, and one which cannot be fully conveyed in 
 words, in consequence of our perception of some incon- 
 gruity in the person or thing, which is the cause of it. 
 
 In this case, as in many other inquiries in mental phi- 
 losophy, we are obliged to rely chiefly on our own con- 
 sciousness, and our knowledge of what takes place in our- 
 selves. 
 
 §. 397. Occasions of emotions of the ludicrous. 
 
 It may, however, assist us in the better understanding 
 of them, if we say something of the occasions, on which 
 the emotions of the ludicrous are generally found to arise. 
 And among other things it "is exceedingly clear, that this 
 feeling is never experienced, except when we notice some- 
 thing, either in thoughts, or in outward objects and ac- 
 tions, which is unexpected and uncommon. That is to 
 
516 EMOTIONS OF THE LUDICROUS. 
 
 say, whenever this emotion is felt, there is always an un- 
 expected discovery by us of some new relations. But 
 
 then it must be observed, that the feeling in question does 
 not necessarily exist in consequence of the discovery of 
 such new relations merely. Something more is necessary, 
 as may be very readily seen. 
 
 Thus, we are sometimes, in the physical sciences, pre- 
 sented with unexpected and novel combinations of the 
 properties and qualities of bodies. But whenever we dis- 
 cover in those sciences relations in objects, which were 
 not only unknown, but unsuspected, we find no emotion 
 of ludicrousness, although we are very pleasantly sur- 
 prised. Again, similies, metaphors, and other like fig- 
 ures of speech imply in general some new and unexpect- 
 ed relations of ideas. It is this trait in them, which gives 
 them their chief force. But when em,ployed in serious 
 compositions, they are of a character far from being lu- 
 dicrous. 
 
 Hence we infer, that emotions of ludricrousness do not 
 exist on the discovery of new and unexpected relations, 
 unless there is at the same time a perception, or supposed 
 perception of some incongruity or unsuitableness. Such 
 perception of unsuitableness may be expected to give to 
 the whole emotion a new and specific character, which 
 every one is acquainted with from his own experience, but 
 which, as before intimated, it is difficult to express in 
 words. 
 
 §. 398. Of what is to be understood by wit. 
 
 The subject of emotions of the ludicrous is closely con- 
 nected with what is termed Wit. This last named sub- 
 ject, therefore, which it is of some importance to under- 
 stand, naturally proposes itself for consideration in this 
 place. In regard to wit, as the term is generally under- 
 stood at the present time, there is ground to apprehend, 
 that an emotion of the ludicrous is always, in a greater or 
 jess degree, experienced in every instance of it. 
 
 This being the case, we are led to give this definition, 
 viz., Wit consists in suddenly presenting to the mind an 
 
WIT AND HUMOUR. 517 
 
 assemblage of related ideas of such a kind as to occasion 
 
 feelings of the ludicrous. This is done in a variety of 
 
 ways ; and among others in the two following. 
 
 §. 399. Ofioit as it consists in burlesque or in debasing objects. 
 
 The first method, which wit employs in exciting the 
 feeling of the ludicrous, is, by debasing those , things, 
 which are grand and imposing ; especially those, which 
 have an appearance of greater weight and gravity and 
 splendour, than they are truly entitled to. Descriptions 
 of this sort are termed burlesque. 
 
 An attempt to lesson what is truly and confessedly se- 
 rious and important, has in general an unpleasant effect, 
 very different from that which is caused by true wit. 
 And yet it is the case, that objects and actions truly great 
 and sublime may sometimes be so coupled with other ob- 
 jects, or be represented in such new circumstances as to 
 excite very different feelings from what they would oth- 
 erwise. Among the various sayings of the great Emperor 
 Napoleon, none is more true, than his very appropriate 
 remark to the Abbe de Pradt, at the time of his secret 
 flight on a sledge through Poland and Prussia, that there 
 is but a single step from the sublime to the ridiculous. 
 
 In the practice of burlesque, as on all other occasions 
 of wit, there is a sudden and uncommon assemblage of re- 
 lated ideas. Sometimes this assemblage is made by means 
 of a formal comparison. Take as an instance the follow- 
 ing comparison from Hudibras ; 
 
 "And nov/ had Phoebus in the lap 
 "Of Thetis taken out his nap ; 
 "And, hke a lobster boiled, the morn 
 ''From black to red began to turn. 
 
 We find illustrations of burlesque also in those in- 
 stances, where objects of real dignity and importance are 
 coupled with things mean and contemptible, although 
 there is no direct and formal comparison made. As in 
 this instance from the above mentioned book ; 
 
518 WIT AND HUMOUR. 
 
 "For when the restless Greeks sat down \ 
 
 "So manj^ years before Troy-town, 
 "And were renowned, as Homer writes, 
 "For well-soaled boots, no less than fights. 
 
 In these instances we have related ideas. In the first, 
 there is undoubtedly an analogy between a lobster and the 
 morning, in the particular of its turning from dark to red, 
 but however real it may be, it strikes every one, as a sin- 
 gular and unexpected resemblance. In the other passage, 
 it is not clear, that Butler has done any thing more than 
 Homer in associating the renown of the Greeks with their 
 boots, as well as their valour. But to us of the present 
 day the connection of ideas is hardly less uncommon, and 
 singular, not to say incongruous, than in the former. 
 
 §. 400. Of iDit when employed in aggrandizing objects. 
 
 The second method which wit employs in exciting 
 emotions of the ludicrous is by aggrandizing objects,w"hich 
 are in themselves inconsiderable. This species of wit may 
 be suitably termed mock majestic or mock-heroic. While 
 the former kind delights in low expressions, this is the re- 
 verse, and chooses learned words, and sonorous combina- 
 tions. In the following spirited passage of Pope, the wri- 
 ter compares dunces to gods, and Grub-street to heaven. 
 
 "As Berecynthia, while her offspring vie 
 "In homage to the mother of the sky, 
 , "Surveys around her in the blest abode 
 "An hundred sons, and every son a god 3 
 "Not with les^ glory mighty Dulness crowned, 
 "Shall take through Grub-street her triumphant round ; 
 "And her Parnassus glancing o'er at once, 
 "Behold a hundred sons, and each a dunce. 
 
 In this division of wit are to be included those instan- 
 ces, where grave and weighty reflections are made upon 
 mere trifles. In this case as in others, the ideas are in 
 some respects related, or have something in common ; but 
 the grouping of them is so curious and unexpected, that 
 
EMOTIONS OF THE LUDICROUS. 519 
 
 we cannot observe it without considerable emotion. 
 
 "My galligaskins, that have long withstood 
 "The winter's fury and encroaching frosts, 
 "By time subdued, (what will not time subdue !) 
 "An horrid chasm disclose. 
 
 It may be proper to make the remark in this place, 
 which is applicable to wit in all its forms, that many say- 
 ings, which would otherwise have appeared to us witty, 
 lose no small share of their intendecl effect, whenever 
 we are led to suspect, that they were premeditated. 
 Hence an observation or allusion, which would be well 
 received in conversation, would often be insipid in print ; 
 and it is for the same reason, that we receive more pleas- 
 ure from a witty repartee, than a witty attack. Our sur- 
 prise at the sudden developement of intellectual acuteness 
 is much greater at such times. 
 
 §. 401 . Of other methods oj exciting emotions of the ludicrous. 
 
 But it is not to be supposed, that wit is limited to the 
 methods of assembling together incongruous ideas, which 
 have just been referred to. A person of genuine wit will 
 excite emotions of the ludicrous in a thousand ways, and 
 which wall be so diverse from each other, that it will be 
 found exceedingly difficult to subject them to any rules. 
 It would be difficult, for instance, to bring within any es- 
 tablished classification of the specific sources of wit, many 
 passages of the poet Butler. In the first Canto of 
 his poem of Hudibras, we have a particular account of 
 the hero's horse ; in which the myi^qy very singularly 
 compares the animal to a Spaniard i^ majesty and delib- 
 eration of gait, and in some other respects to the celebra- 
 ted horse of Caesar as follows — 
 
 "He was well stay'd, and in his gai\ 
 "Preserved a grave, majestic state. 
 "At spur or switch no more he skipt, 
 "Or mended pace, than Spaniard whipt 3 
 "And yet so fiery he would bound. 
 
520 WIT AND HUMOUR. 
 
 " As if he grieved to touch the ground. 
 
 '^ That Ccesar's horse, who, as fame goes, 
 
 " Had corns upon his feet and toes, 
 
 " Was not by half so tender hooft, 
 
 " Or trod upon the ground so soft ; 
 
 " And as that beast would kneel and stoop, 
 
 " (Some write) to take his rider up, 
 
 " So Hudibras's, ('tis well known) 
 
 " Would do the same, to set him do^vn. 
 
 §. 4G2. Of the character and Gccasions of humour. 
 
 Closely connected with the general subject of ludicrous 
 emotions and of wit, is that of Humour. It is well 
 known, that we often apply the terms, humour and humorous 
 to descriptions of a particular character whether written, 
 or given in conversation ; and which may be explained 
 as follows. 
 
 It so happens that w^e frequently find among men what 
 seems to us a disproportion in their passions ; for instance, 
 when they are noisy and violent, but not durable. "W^e 
 find inconsistencies, contradictions, and disproportions in 
 their actions. They have their foibles, (hardly any one 
 is without them,) such as self-conceit, caprice, foolish 
 partialities, jealousies, &c. Such incongruities in feeling 
 and action cause an emotion of surprise, like an unexpec- 
 ted combination of ideas in wit. Observing them as w^e 
 do in connection with the acknowledged high traits and 
 responsibilities of human nature, we can no more refrain 
 from an emotion of the ludicrous, than we caa on seeing 
 a gentleman of fine dothes and high dignity making a 
 false step, and tumbling into a gutter. A person, who 
 can seize upon these specialities in temper and conduct, 
 and set them forth i" a lively and exact manner, is called 
 a man of humor^ ; and his descriptions are termed hu- 
 morous descriptions. See CampbeWs Philosophy of 
 
 Rhetoric^ Bk /? ch. Ill: Beaitie on Laughter and Ludicrous 
 Compositiov-) 4'C. 
 
CHAPTER FIFTH. 
 
 MORAL EMOTIONS. CONSCIENCE. 
 
 §. 403. Of the accountableness or moral nature of man. 
 
 Man is accountable to his Creator ; for accountable- 
 ness implies a superior, and evidently the highest claims 
 to superintendence and government exist in the Supreme 
 Being. When he does right, he is approved ; when he 
 does wrong, he is condemned. To say that he is a mor- 
 al being, is in effect the same as to say, that he is accoun- 
 table, or that he is capable of doing right or wrong. It 
 is in this respect he clearly differs, (and the degree of dif- 
 ference is great in itself and incalculable in its results,) 
 from tlie forms of life around him, from the beast of the 
 field, and from the bird of heaven. His accountableness 
 gives him a new character ; it imparts to his natural exis- 
 tence, which he has in common with the brutes, a super- 
 added and nobler existence, which he has in common with 
 angels. 
 
 It is necessarily involved and implied in the moral 
 
 character of man, that some things are right and others 
 
 wrong, that some are good and others evil. Moral good 
 
 and evil are also expressed by the terms, merit and de- 
 
 66 
 
522 MORAL EMOTIONS. 
 
 merit, virtue and vice, good and ill desert, and many oili- 
 er terms of a like import, which are to be found in all lan- 
 guages. 
 
 §. 404. Immulability of moral distinctions. 
 
 Betw^een moral merit and demerit, between virtue and 
 vice, there is a real, permanent, and immutable distinction. 
 That is, whatever actions are generally approved 
 by men can never be otherwise than approved by 
 them, while tfieir mental constitution remains the same, 
 as at present. On the other hand, whatever actions are 
 generally disapproved, can never be otherwise, while the 
 same constitution remains. Vice can never become vir- 
 tue ; virtue can never become vice. Good can never be- 
 come evil, nor evil become good ; though virtue may 
 
 take the place of vice, and good of evil. And even 
 
 if man's constitution should be changed, and the na- 
 ture of his moral emotions be altered, the permanent 
 distinction of right and wrong would not necessarily be 
 annulled. But this view of the subject will be more par- 
 ticularly considered in a future chapter. 
 
 §• 405. Of the existence of a moral susceptibihiliiy or con- 
 science. 
 
 On carefully examining the mental constitution, we 
 are soon led to perceive that there is in man a moral sus- 
 ceptibility or conscience. If there be original feelings of 
 approval or disapproval, sanctioning Vv^hen we do right, 
 and condemning when we do wrong, there must of course 
 be something in the internal constitution, corresponding 
 to such results. There must be something in the mind, 
 from which they proceed. 
 
 The effect of this susceptibility in reference to our- 
 selves is, we are conscious, according as we act one way 
 or another, of an internal sanctioning or condemnation, 
 approval or disapproval. Its effect, wdien we are not in 
 action ourselves, but are noticing the conduct of others, 
 is the sam.e ; at sometimes we approve, at others condemn. 
 Whereas if we were destitute of this susceptibility, (other- 
 
CONSCIENCE. 523 
 
 wise called co?fsciENCE,) this very conduct and these 
 very agents, which have now a moral character so deci- 
 ded, would appear to us utterly indifferent. This suscep- 
 tibility, therefore, is in one sense the great source of moral 
 distinctions of right and wrong, of merit and demerit, 
 of virtue and vice. That is to say, if we were destitute 
 of the susceptibility, it would be utterly beyond our pow- 
 er to ascertain these important distinctions. The distinc- 
 tions might exist, but it would seem beyond our ability to 
 become acquainted with them. Our conscience is the 
 means or instrument, which God 'has given us to ascer- 
 tain the morality of actions, to know good from evil, the 
 right from the wrong. 
 
 §. 406 . Of the various opinions respecting the ground of 
 moral obligation. 
 
 It is not to be concealed, however, that there has been 
 a want of uniformity on this whole subject. Different 
 writers have explained in different ways both the ultimate 
 source and the developement of moral distinctions. Hence 
 they have necessarily been divided as to the ground of 
 moral obligation. One ascribes it to the moral fitness of 
 things ; another finds it ih the decisions of reason ; anoth- 
 er in expediency, and in the promotion of the public 
 good ; another in Revelation. But after hearing these 
 and other solutions of the ground of moral obligation, 
 the question still returns, why does the regard for the pub- 
 lic good, or a belief in Revelation, or the conclusions of 
 reason render it right for me to do a particular action and 
 wrong not to ? 
 
 When such a question is put to us, we find ourselves 
 driven back upon the feelings of our own hearts. Our 
 Creator, in forming us with a susceptibility of emotions 
 of approval or disapproval, has furnished us with a guide 
 in the discharge of our duties to Him, to our fellow be- 
 ings, to ourselves. Without this susceptibility, this in- 
 ward feeling, this coNsqiENCE, men would experience no 
 regret and compunction even in disobeying the express 
 commands of God himself. Without the susceptibility of 
 
524 MORAL EMOTIONS. 
 
 moral emotions, it would be all the same, whether they 
 reo;arded or disrecrarded the most aifectino[ calls of char- 
 ity and of the public good. Without this, benevolent in- 
 tercourse would cease ; religious homage would be at 
 at an end ; the bonds of society would be loosed and dis- 
 solved. 
 
 The true source, then, of moral obligation is in the 
 natural impulses of the human breast, in a man's own 
 conscience. . It is in this, that we find the origin of the 
 multitude of moral motives, that are continually stirring 
 up men to worthy and exalted enterprises. This is the 
 law v/hich governs them ; and as it is inseparable from 
 that nature, of which the Supreme Being is the author, it 
 is the law of God. 
 
 §. 407. Considerations in favour oj the existence and authority 
 of conscience. 
 
 We shall now endeavour to state some of the consid- 
 erations, which sustain the doctrine of the existence and 
 authority of conscience, without professing, however, to 
 ^nter into minuteness of detail, or to place them in all the 
 points of view of which they are susceptible. 
 
 I, — We may assert with confidence, in the first place, 
 that we have proof of the existence and of the authorita- 
 tive nature of conscience in ourselves. We know from 
 our own consciousness, that when we do certain actions, 
 we are approved within. There is a voice in the soul, 
 which whispers its approbation. On the other hand, 
 when we do certain other actions of an opposite charac- 
 ter, we are as distinctly reproved by this internal monitor. 
 It would be deemed a strange and singular thing to find a 
 man, who should openly and freely confess, that he has 
 no conscience. Such a confession would disgrace him in 
 his own eyes, not less than in those of the whole commu- 
 nity, who would consider such a person unworthy of the 
 name of man, and a dishonour to human nature. 
 
 Let the most depraved man, when some favourable 
 opportunity has presented itself, unlawfully take the prop- 
 erty of another, and let him even be assured in himself of 
 
CONSCIENCE. 525 
 
 the impossibility of a discovery, and he will inevitably 
 feel degraded, guilty, and unhappy. This is the law of 
 our nature ; the destiLy which our consciousness assures 
 us God has stamped upon our souls. 
 
 It is no small encouragement to find, that this source 
 of argument on the present subject is appealed to by a , 
 writer, who deservedly enjoys the reputation not only of 
 great learning and remarkable acuteness of mind, but also 
 
 of great fairness and candour. " There is a principle 
 
 of reflection in men, (says Bishop Butler in his Sermons 
 on Human nature,) by which they distinguish between, 
 approve and disapprove their own actions. We are plain- 
 ly constituted such sort of creatures as to reflect upon our 
 own nature. The mind can take a view of what passes 
 within itself, its propensions, aversions, passions, affec- 
 tions, as respecting such objects, and in such degrees ; 
 and of the several actions consequent thereupon.. In this 
 survey it approves of one and disapproves of another, 
 and towards a third is affected in neither of these ways, 
 but is quite indifferent. Tiiis principle in man, by which 
 he approves or disapproves his heart, temper, and actions, 
 is conscience ; for this is the strict sense of the word, 
 though sometimes it is used so as to take in more. And 
 that this faculty tends to restrain men from doing mischief 
 to each other, and leads them to do good, is too manifest 
 to need being insisted upon." 
 
 II. — In the second place, the existence of a conscience 
 is taken for granted in our general intercource with our 
 fellow men. We make our agreements and bargains with 
 them, as if they had a conscience; we converse with them, 
 and rejoice with them, and weep with them, as if they had 
 a conscience ; and in our more formal addresses and ex- 
 hortations, we always take the same thing for granted. 
 How many customers would a tradesman have, how long 
 would any person be admitted into good company, how 
 many public and responsible duties would any citizen 
 whatever be called to fulfil, if it were known, or even 
 suspected, that they had no conscience ! 
 
 We shall feel more fully the force of the facts we have 
 
526 MORAL EMOTIONS. 
 
 HOW in view; if we consider the mode of address, which 
 is usually employed, when a person wishes to persuade 
 men to pursue a certain course. He appeals at first to 
 their interest ; he tells them of the various advantages 
 which would attend the course he proposes ; but he re- 
 serves, as his last and most efficacious argument, an appeal 
 to their sense of duty. If every other consideration is 
 found to fail, the orator assures them of his perfect per- 
 suasion, that they will not so disgrace themselves in the 
 eyes of the whole world as to refuse obedience to the 
 calls of conscience. He calls upon conscience to speak 
 out on this important occasion, and he knows full well, if 
 that voice of God and nature implanted in the human 
 bosom, can be made to utter itself, there will no longer 
 be occasion for his own humble efforts. 
 
 §. 408. Further views on tJie existence and authority of conscience. 
 
 in, — If it were otlierwise, if there were no conscience 
 and no original moral sentiments in men, the fact would 
 be unaccountable, that terms are to be found in all lan- 
 guages expressive of moral distinctions and sentiments, 
 and of a moral power. The ancients were accustomed to 
 speak of the sensus recti et honesti, and to distinguish 
 the HONESTUM, in particular, as a principle of action, from 
 the UTILE ; and corresponding terms, and like distinctions 
 are to be found in all modern tongues. And this is what 
 would naturally be expected, on the supposition, that the 
 foundation of such terms and distinctions is actually laid 
 in the human constitution, and not otherwise. The prob- 
 ability, therefore, is, that the conscience, which is incor- 
 porated into all languages, has its origin in the conscience 
 actually and originally incorporated into the human soul. 
 
 IV, — It may be remarked further, that the operation 
 of the passions of anger and gratitude often implies the ex- 
 istence of a moral sense. If we suffei- an injury, we are 
 angry ; if we receive a benefit we are grateful ; but if 
 soon after we discover, on the one hand that the injury 
 was wholly accidental, and on the other, that our benefac- 
 tor was governed by selfish motives, not seeking our good 
 
CONSCIENCE. 527 
 
 but his own, both our anger and our gratitude cease. 
 But it does not appear, how this could be, if we had not 
 the power of making moral distinctions. The actual 
 benefit and injury remain the ^ame as they were at first ; 
 but the moral sense requires us to place a new and far 
 different estimation on the authors of them. 
 
 V, — Again, all ages and all nations have come forth 
 with their warmest commendation of certain actions, re- 
 corded in history ; and solely on account of the high 
 moral traits in the principal actors. If it could be ascer- 
 tained in any way, that Leonidas and his companions bled 
 at the pass of Thermopyles, from a selfish desire of fame, 
 and not from a sense of duty, the glory of that great ac- 
 tion would be blasted at once. 
 
 Take a case from Roman history still more directly 
 to our present purpose. The Roman Regulus was a pris- 
 oner at Carthage. The Carthaginians sent him to Rome, 
 in order to procure a peace. He no sooner arrived at his 
 native city, than, contrary to the hopes and expectations 
 of the Carthaginians, he advised and urged the Romans to 
 continue the war. Some persons, when he had seen fit 
 to take this course, proposed to him not to return, as the 
 most distressing results would be likely to follow. Reg- 
 ulus replied ; "Though I am well acquainted with the tor- 
 tures, which await me at Carthage, I prefer them to an 
 act, which would cover me with infamy in my tomb. It is 
 my duty to return, and for all else let the gods provide." 
 He accordingly went back, and was put to death with 
 unheard of sufferings. 
 
 This high-minded act of the noble Roman lias been 
 applauded by the whole human race, although nothing 
 could be more unwise under the existing circumstances, if 
 there were no such thing as conscience and conscientious 
 obligations. 
 
 VI,- We may go further and add, that all moral writers, 
 from the days of Plato and Cicero to the present time, and 
 that all merely literary writers, especially the great trage- 
 dians, have proceeded in the execution of their admirable 
 works, with a few exceptions, on the supposition, that 
 
528 MORAL EMOTIONS, 
 
 there are grounds of moral obligation in the human 
 breast. It is with a reference to this principle, that they 
 have proposed their plans of conduct, that they have ut- 
 tered their most ennobling sentiments, that they have 
 made their most affecting appeals, and secured most effec- 
 tually the admiration of men. If there be no such thing 
 as a conscience, then it may be said emphatically of the 
 great Roman orator, that he darkened counsel by words 
 without knowledge; in that case some of the most exal- 
 ted sentiments of Shakspeare, are utterly unsound and 
 inappropriate ; and the fine moral passages of Milton and 
 Spenser, of Cowper and Akenside can claim no higher 
 praise than that of sounding rhapsodies, signifying noth- 
 
 We will not insist here on the circumstance, that mor- 
 al sentiments clearly discover themselves at a very early 
 period of life ; a fact of which the author of the Minstrel 
 has made such admirable use. Certain it is, that whenev- 
 er stories of marked injustice, cruelty, and ingratitude, 
 are told to children, in such a way a3 to be clearly un- 
 derstood, they at once exhibit, not only by their words, 
 but by looks and gestures, the most decided feelings of 
 approbation or disapprobation. The single re- 
 mark remains to be made, that we find ourselves sus- 
 tained in the views, which have been proposed, by the 
 Holy Scriptures. The Apostle Paul, whose testimony, 
 independently of his inspiration, is exceedingly valuable, 
 
 plainly teaches them. When the Gentiles^ lohich have not 
 
 the laiD, do hy nature the things contained in the laio, these^having 
 not the laio, are a law unto themselves ; which shew the work of 
 the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing wit- 
 ness, and their thoughts the meanwhile accusing^ or else excusing 
 one another.. 
 
 §. 409. Conscience sometimes perverted by passion. 
 
 We arrive, therefore, at the conclusion, that man has 
 a moral susceptibility. At the same time we cannot deny, 
 that its action is sometimes blunted and perverted. It ac- 
 cordingly seems to be necessary that we should briefly state 
 
CONSCIENCE. 529 
 
 under what circumstances, or from what causes, this per- 
 version takes place. — And in the first place, the due exer- 
 cise of conscience or the moral susceptibility may be per- 
 verted, when a person is under the influence of violent 
 passions. 
 
 The moral emotion, which under other circumstances 
 would have arisen, has failed to arise in the present in- 
 stance, because the soul is intensely and wholly taken up 
 with another species of feeling. But after the present pas- 
 sion has subsided, the power of moral judgment returns ; 
 the person, who has been the subject of such violence of 
 feeling, looks with horror on the deeds, which he has 
 committed. So that the original susceptibility, which has 
 been contended for, cannot justly be said to cease to ex- 
 ist in this instance; although its due exercise is pre- 
 vented by the accidental circumstance of inordinate pas- 
 sion. 
 
 Further ; those, who imagine, that there are no per- 
 manent moral distinctions, because they are not regard- 
 ed in moments of extreme passion, would do well to con- 
 sider, that at such times persons are unable rightly to ap- 
 prehend any truths whatever. A murderer, when draw- 
 ing the blade from the bosom of his victim, probably 
 could not tell the quotient of sixteen divided by four, or 
 any other simple results in numbers; but certainly his in- 
 ability to perceive them under such circumstances does 
 not annul numerical powers and distinctions, nor prove 
 the absolute want of a power to perceive them. Why then 
 should the same inability take away moral distinctions, or 
 prove the absolute absence of a moral susceptibility ? 
 
 §. 410. Complexity in actions a source of confusion in our 
 moral judgments. 
 
 A second reason, why men, although they are under 
 the guidance of an original susceptibility, do not always 
 form the same judgments of actions, is to be found in 
 
 their complexity. ^Actions, in a moral view, are 
 
 67 
 
530 MORAL EMOTIONS. 
 
 nothing of themselves, independently of the agent* 
 In forming moral judgments, therefore, we are to look at 
 the agent ; and we are to regard him not only as willing 
 and bringing to pass certain effects, but we are to consid- 
 er him also as the subject of certain desires and intentions; 
 and we are unable rightly to estimate these, without ta- 
 kinop into view various attendant circumtances. In some 
 
 o 
 
 cases the intention is obvious ; and in these the judgment 
 is readily formed. But in other cases the results are com- 
 plex ; they are a mixture of good and evil ; and hence 
 arises a difficulty in ascertaining the true intention and de- 
 sign of the agent. 
 
 When different individuals, therefore, are called upon 
 to judge of an instance of this kindjthey will be not unlike- 
 ly to give their attention to different circumstances, or 
 they may have different views of the same circumstances, 
 considered as indications of feeling and intention. This 
 being the case, the judgments, which they will pass, will 
 in effect be pronounced upon different things, inasmuch 
 as they w^ill have such difference of views. Hence in a 
 multitude of actions, there will be sufficient reason for 
 a diversity of moral sentiments, where by superficial ob- 
 servers a perfect uniformity may have been expected. 
 
 These remarks throw some light upon the supposed 
 approbation of theft among the Spartans. This people 
 were trained up by their political institutions to regard 
 property as of little value ; .their lands were equally di- 
 vided ; they ate at public tables ; and the great end of all 
 their civil regulations was to render the citizens athletic, 
 active, patient, and brave. Every thing else was consid- 
 ered subordinate. The permission, which was given to 
 the Spartan lads to steal, was a part of the public regula- 
 tions. It was a sort of tax, which the citizens voluntarily 
 imposed upon themselves,in order to encourage vigilance, 
 endurance, and address in the younger part of the com- 
 munity ; and hence, when they were detected immediately 
 after the theft, they were severely punished for deficiency 
 of skill. Accordingly the theft, which was permitted and 
 
CONSCIENCS. 531 
 
 approved by the Spartans, was a very different thing froui 
 what goes under that name with us. The mere act 
 may have been the same, bat there was no correspondence 
 in the results and attendant circumstances, and in the de- 
 gree of evil intention. Similar inquiries in other in- 
 stances will go far in explaining many apparent deviations 
 from the permanent distinctions between vice and virtue, , 
 and will reduce the number of cases of supposed want of 
 uniformity in moral sentiments. 
 
 §. 411. Influence of early associations on moral judgments. 
 
 Our moral judgments, in the third place, are some- 
 times perplexed and perverted by means of early associa- 
 tions. The principle of association does not operate 
 
 upon the moral capacity directly ; it operates indirectly, 
 with considerable influence. When a particular action is 
 to be judged of, it calls up in the mind of different indi- 
 viduals, different' and distinct series of accessory circum- 
 stances. This difference in the tendencies of the associa- 
 ting principle can hardly fail to have considerable effect 
 in modifying the sentiment of approbation or disapproba- 
 tion resulting from the consideration of any particular 
 action. 
 
 Accordingly when vices are committedby near friends, 
 by a brother, or a parent, they do not excite in us such 
 abhorrence, as in other cases. Our prepossessions in fa- 
 vour of the persons, who have committed the crime, sug- 
 gest a thousand circumstances, which seem to us to alle- 
 viate its aggravation. We frame for them a multitude of 
 plausible excuses, which we should not have thought of 
 doing, had it not been for'the endearments and intercourse 
 
 of our previous connection. Savage life also gives us 
 
 an illustration of the views now expressed. Owing to 
 the peculiar situation of those in that state and the conse- 
 quent early associations, a factitious and exaggerated im- 
 portance is attached to mere courage ; and gentleness, 
 equanimity, and benevolence, are, as virtues,proportiona- 
 bly depressed. 
 
532 
 
 MORAL EMOTIONS. 
 
 §. 412. Of the relation of the reasoning power to conscience. 
 
 The opinion has sometimes been advanced, that our 
 moral judgments are the results of reasoning. It is not 
 surprising on the whole that this mistake, which is a very 
 serious and prejudicial one, should have been committed, 
 when we consider, how close the relation is, which reason 
 sustains to conscience. This subject is worthy of our at- 
 tention. 
 
 In the first place, reasoning is purely an intellectual 
 process ; consisting of successive propositions arranged 
 together, and a succession of relative suggestions or per- 
 ceptions, but involving nothing which is properly called 
 an emotion. Our moral sentiments are emotions ; and 
 probably every one can say with confidence that he is 
 conscious of a difference in the moral feelings of approval 
 and disapproval, and the mere intellectual perceptions of 
 agreeement, and disagreement, which are characteristic of 
 reasoning. Our consciousness assures us, that they are 
 truly diverse in their nature ; and cannot be interchanged 
 with each other. The moral feeling is one thing ; and 
 the intellectual perception or suggestion involved in rea- 
 soning is another. 
 
 And yet it must be admitted, that reasoning has very 
 much to do with the decisions of conscience. For instance, 
 when one man is alleged to have put another to death, 
 we find the conscience ready to discharge the duty, which 
 the author of our nature has assigned it ; but not unfre- 
 quently its decisions are arrested and postponed, in order 
 to give time for the inquiries and conclusions of the rea- 
 soning power. Such inquiries inform us perhaps, that 
 the murder was premeditated and committed in cold 
 blood; and in view of this fact, conscience immediately 
 passes its decision. Perhaj)s our inquiries inform us, that 
 the murder was committed under the reception of unrea- 
 sonable injuries and the influence of excited passion ; and 
 conscience here as in the other case, condemns the crimi- 
 nal, but with a mitigated sentence. It may be, that we 
 
CONSCIENCE. 533 
 
 learn from our inquiries, which of course always imply 
 the exercise of the reasoning power, that the murder was 
 committed at dead of night, in the necessary defence of 
 the criminal's own life, his home, and his family ; and the 
 circumstances may be so peculiar, that conscience, instead 
 of condemning, may approve the action. 
 
 Conscience, therefore, however distinct the two may 
 be in themselves, is aided and supported by reason. The 
 reasoning power, which is not unfrequently lauded as the 
 glory of man, is the servitor and hand-maid of the con- 
 science ; and the decisions of the latter will vary in exact 
 proportion with the new facts and the" new views, which 
 are presented by the former. In the constitution of 
 things they are destined to go together ; and while con- 
 science is most justly characterized as the propitious and 
 guiding light of the soul, it must undoubtedly be admit- 
 ted, th-at it is the agency of reason, which feeds and sus- 
 tains its lustre. 
 
 It is in consequence of this close connection and the im- 
 portant assistance rendered to conscience by reason, that 
 they have sometimes been confounded together. But it is 
 very essential to right views of the mind, that this erro- 
 neous notion should be corrected, and that the relation, 
 existing between these two distinct parts of our mental 
 nature, should be fully understood. 
 
 §. 413. Of enlightening the conscience. 
 
 It clearly follows from the views which have been ta- 
 ken,Hhat the moral susceptibility will operate with the 
 greater readiness and efficiency, in proportion as the 
 knowledge of ourselves and of our relations to other beings 
 is increased. And the knowledge to be acquired with 
 
 this end may be stated in some particulars. (I) As the 
 
 Being, who gave us life, has given us conscience, and, con- 
 sequently, could not intend, that conscience should act in 
 opposition to himself, it seems to be an indispensable 
 duty, that men should be acquainted with his character. 
 
534 MORAL EMOTIONS. 
 
 His character is made known to us in those works, of 
 which He is the author, and in the Scriptures. If we 
 have right views of the Supreme Being, and of the re- 
 lation, which we sustain to Him, our conscience will 
 infallibly approve what he has enjoined, and disapprove 
 
 what he has forbidden. (2) Inasmuch as it results 
 
 from the relation, which we sustain to the Supreme Be- 
 ing, that correct decisions of conscience are not, and 
 cannot be at variance with his laws, but will agree 
 with them, whenever they are made known, it follows5that 
 all should be made acquainted with the moral and reli- 
 gious precepts, which he has communicated to us. To 
 every mind, that has proper views of the self-existfence of 
 God and our dependance upon Him, it will be enough 
 to justify any action, that He has said it. The mere dis- 
 closure of his will cannot but render, in all cases, an ac- 
 tion approved in the sight of conscience, whateve'r may 
 be our ignorance of the consequences connected with it. 
 Hence, in order to prevent erroneous decisions of con- 
 science, it is exceedingly important, we should know not 
 only what God is in himself, but eve^-y thing, which he 
 has expressly commanded. 
 
 (3) As all duties, which truly result from the relations 
 we sustain to our felloV beings, are expressions of the will 
 of God, who is the Creator of all around us as well as of 
 ourselves, we should earnestly inquire what those rela- 
 tions and duties are. We are to inquire what duties 
 devolve upon us in respect to oiir immediate circle, to the 
 poor and the sick, to our neighbourhood, and to socie- 
 ty in general. Our feelings in respect to the perform- 
 ance of such studies cannot be so clear and vivid, if we 
 exclude the Supreme Being from our consideration of 
 them, as they would otherwise be. A knowledge of the 
 will of God, from whatever other source it is obtained, 
 will tend to guide and strengthen the inward moral feeling. 
 (4) Since the decisions of conscience are often ex- 
 ceedingly perverted by the undue influence of passion, 
 men should both guard against the recurrence of passion- 
 
CONSCIENCE. • 535 
 
 ate feelings in general ; and when at any time they have 
 reason to suspect themselves of being under the influence 
 of such passion, the decision on the merits or demerits of 
 any particular action ought to be put off to a more favour-' 
 able .period. Nor are we less to guard against prejudices, 
 — the prejudices in favour of friends, and against those, 
 whom we may imagine to have injured us ; the prejudices 
 of sects, political parties, &c ; for they often give the mind 
 a wrong view of the action, upon which it is to judge. 
 Also when actions are complex, either in themselves or 
 their results, the greater care is requisite in properly esti- 
 mating them. 
 
PART THIUD. 
 
 SENTIENT STATES OF THE MIND. 
 
 CLASS SECOJVD, 
 
 DESIRES. 
 
 68 
 
CHAPTER FIRST. 
 
 INSTINCTS. 
 
 §.412. Of the instincts of man compared with those of the 
 inferiour animals. 
 
 In proceeding to examine that part of our sentient 
 constitution, which is comprehended under the general 
 
 name of Desires, we naturally begin with instincts. It is 
 
 generally conceded, that there are in our nature some 
 strong and invariable tendencies to do certain things,with- 
 out previous forethought and deliberation, which bear 
 that name. The actions of men are not always governed 
 by feelings founded on reasoning, but are sometimes 
 prompted by quick and decisive impulses, which set them- 
 selves in array, before reason has time to operate. It is 
 from this circumstance that these mental tendencies or 
 desires are termed instinctive ; a word, which implies in 
 its original meaning a movement or action, whether men- 
 tal or bodily, without reflection and foresight. 
 
 Although such instinctive tendencies are undoubtedly 
 found in men, it must be admitted, that they are less fre- 
 quent, and in general less effective, than in the lower ani- 
 mals. And in truth, it could not be expected to be other- 
 wise, when we remember, that the brute creaton are 
 wholly destitute of the powers of reasoning and of ab- 
 straction, or at most possess them only in a small degree. 
 The provident oversight of the Supreme Being, without 
 whose notice not a sparrow falleth to the ground, has met 
 
540 INSTINCTS. 
 
 this deficiency by endowing them with instincts, the mo^t 
 various in kind, and strikingly adapted to the exigencies 
 of their situation. We find the proofs of this remark in 
 the nests of birds, in the ball of the silk w^orin, in the 
 house of the beaver, in the return and flight of birds at 
 their appointed seasons, and in a multitude of other in- 
 stances. 
 
 §.413. Of the nature of the instincts of brute animals. 
 
 So abundantly has the great Father of all things pro- 
 vided "by means of their instincts, for the preservation and 
 enjoyment of the inferiour animals, that they even, in 
 some respects, seem to have the advantage over man. with 
 all his high and excellent capacities. In the early periods 
 of the human race, men looked abroad upon the great 
 ocean with timidity ; theylaunched their frail vessels, and 
 directed their course by the sun and stars ; but with all 
 their care and wisdom they w^ere often baffled, and obli- 
 ged to put back again into the place of their departure, 
 or ran perhapsiupon some unknown shore. But flocks of 
 migratory birds are frequently seen navigating the bound- 
 less fields of air, passing wide tracts of unknow^n land 
 and water, and returning again at the set time and with 
 scarcely making a mistake, or w^andering a league from 
 their course ; and yet they are without any histories of 
 former voyages, without chart and compass ; nor do they 
 read the way of their ilighlt in the bright letters of Orion 
 and Pleiades. , 
 
 This is only one. of the facts or classes of facts, which 
 illustrate this subject ; but it shows very clearly the un- 
 erring guidance, the fixed and definite adaption lo a 
 particular end, w^hich is the characteristic of instincts. 
 
 '' Who bade the stork CoIuAibus-like. explore 
 "Heavens not his own, and worlds unknown before:' 
 "Who calls the council, states the certain da}?-, 
 "Who forms the phalanx, and who points the wa}- ? 
 
 The ways, in which this unerring tendency, this di- 
 vine guidance shows itself, are almost innumerable. The 
 philosopher Galen once took ^a kid from its dead mother 
 
% 
 INSTINCTS. 541 
 
 by dissection, ^nd before it had tasted any food, brought 
 it into a certain room, having many vessels full, some of 
 wine, some of oil, some of honey, some of milk, or some 
 other liquor, and many others, filled with the different 
 sorts of grain and iruit ; and there laid it. After a little 
 time the embryon had acquired strength enough to get 
 up on its feet ; and it was with sentiments of strong admi- 
 ration that the spectators saw it advance towards the li- 
 quors, fruit, and grain, which were placed round the 
 room, and having smelt all of them, at last sup the milk 
 alone. About two months afterwards, the tender sprouts 
 of plants and shrubs were brought to it, and after smel- 
 ling all of them and tasting some, it began to eat of sucfe 
 as are the usual food of goats. 
 
 The cells, constructed by the united efforts of a hive 
 of bees, have often been referred to, as illustrating the na- 
 ture of instincts.- " It is a curious mathematical prob- 
 lem, says Dr. Reid, at what precise angle the three planes, 
 which compose the bottom of a cell in a honey-comb, 
 ought to meet in order to make the greatest saving, or the 
 least expense of material and labour. This is one of those 
 problems belonging to the higher parts of mathematics, 
 which are called problems o£ maxima and minima. ' It has 
 been resolved by some mathematicians, particularly by 
 the ingenious Mr. Maclaurin, by a iiuxionary calculation, 
 which is to be found in the Transactions of the Royal So- 
 ciety of London. He has determined precisely the angle 
 required ; and he found by the most, exact mensuration 
 the subject could admit, that it is the very angle; in which 
 the three planes in the bottom of the cell of a honey-comb 
 do actually meet. 
 
 Shall we ask here, who taught the bee the properties of 
 solids, and to resolve problems of maxima and minima ? 
 We need not say that bees know none of these things. 
 They work most geometrically, without any knowledge 
 of geometry ; somewhat like a child, who, by turning the 
 handle of an organ, makes gootl music without any 
 knowledge of music. The art is not in the child, but in 
 him who made the organ. In like manner, when a bee 
 
542 INSTINCTS. 
 
 makes its comb so geometrically, the geometry is not in 
 the bee, but in the great geometrician who made the bee, 
 and made all things in number, weight, and measm-e." 
 
 §. 414. Instincts susceptible of slight modifications. 
 
 We usually speak of the instincts of animals as jfixed 
 and inflexible ; and they undoubtedly are so, in a consid- 
 erable degree- Of this inflexibility, or fixed and particu- 
 lar direction, which is appropriate to them, a multitude of 
 facts might be brought as proof.* Mr. Stewart, speaking 
 of a blind old beaver, that had been taken and kept for a 
 numl^er of years in a pond by itself, asserts, that the ani- 
 mal showed no inconsiderable degree of sagacity and me- 
 chanical contrivance in accomplishing particular ends ; 
 but these ends were in no respects subservient to its ac- 
 commodation or comfort in its actual situation, although 
 manifestly parts of those systematic instincts, which belong 
 to it in its social state. The animal seemed, he further 
 observes, like a solitary wheel of a machine, which ex- 
 hibits in its teeth marks of a reference to other wheels, 
 with which it was intended to co-operate. 
 
 It must be admitted, however, whatever may be the 
 correctness of this general view, that instincts are not al- 
 ways found in a pure and unmixed state, but are suscepti- 
 ble of being modified from observation and experience. 
 The consequence is, that the naturally invariable tenden- 
 cy of the instinct is frequently checked and controlled ; and* 
 it acquires, in that way, an appearance of flexibility, which 
 does" not belong to it in its pure state. Hence there is 
 often seen in old animals a cunning and sagacity, which 
 is not discoverable in those that are young ; a diiference, 
 which could not exist, if both old and young were gov- 
 erned, in all cases, by an unmixed instinct. 
 
 §. 415. Instances of instincts in the human mind. 
 
 But it is not our design to enter particularly into the 
 subject ofthe instincts of animals in this place, although this 
 topic is undoubtedly one of exceeding interest both to the 
 philosopher and the Christian. Such inquiries are too 
 
INSTINCTS. 543 
 
 dir^ne and remote from our main object, which has par- 
 ticular, if not exclusive reference to the economy of hu- 
 man nature. There are certain instinctive tendencies in 
 man, as well as thi inferiour animals; but they are few 
 in number ; and compared with the other parts of his na- 
 ture, are of subordinate importance. Some of them will 
 now be referred to. 
 
 I, — The action of respiration is thought to imply the 
 existence of an instinct. We cannot suppose that the in- 
 fant at its birth has learnt the importance of this act by 
 reasoning upon it ; and he is as ignorant of the internal 
 machinery, which is put in operation, as he is of its im- 
 portant uses. And yet he puts the whole machinery into 
 action at the very moment of coming into existence, and 
 with such regularity ^nd success, that we cannot well ac- 
 count for it, except on the ground of an instinctive im- 
 pulse. 
 
 II — ^"By the same kind, of principle, (says Dr. Reid, 
 Essays on the Active Powers, in, chap. 2,) a new born 
 child when the stomach is emptied,and nature has brought 
 milk into the mother's breast, sucks and swallows its food 
 as perfectly as if it knew the principles of that operation^ 
 and had got the habit of working according to them. 
 
 "Sucking and swallowing are very complex operations- 
 Anatomists describe about thirty pair of muscles, that must 
 be enaployed in every draught. Of those muscles, every 
 one must be served by its proper nerve, and can make no 
 exertion but by some influence communicated by the 
 nerve. The exertion of all those muscles and nerves is not 
 simultaneous. They must succeed each other in a certain 
 order, and their order is no less necessary than the exer- 
 tion itself. — This regular train of operations is carried on, 
 according to the nicest rules of art, by the infant, who has 
 neither art, nor science, ncr experience, nor habit. 
 
 "That the infant feels the uneasy sensation of hunger 
 I admit ; and that it sucks no longer than till this sensa- 
 tion be removed. But who informed it, that this uneasy 
 sensation might be removed, or by. what means ? That it 
 
544 INSTINCTS. 
 
 knows nothing of this is evident, for it will as readily 
 suck a linger, or a bit of stick, as the nipple." 
 
 Hi, — The efforts, which men make for self-preserva- 
 tion, appear to be in part of an instinctive kind. If a man 
 is in danger of falling from unexpectedly losing his bal- 
 ance, we say with much propriety, that the instantaneous 
 effort he makes to recover his position is instinctive. If 
 a person is unexpectedly and suddenly plunged into a riv- 
 er, the first convulsive struggle, which he makes for his 
 safety, seems to be of the same kind. His reasoning. pow- 
 ers may soon come to his aid, and direct his further meas- 
 ures for his preservation ; but his first efforts are evident- 
 ly made on another principle. When a violent blow is 
 aimed at one, he instinctively shrinks back, although he 
 knew beforehand, it would be aimed in sport, and al- 
 though his reason told him, there was no danger. We 
 always instinctively close the eyelids, when any thing sud- 
 denly approaches them. Dr. Reid asserts that he has seen 
 this tried upon a wager, which a man was to gain if he 
 could keep his eyes open, while another aimed a stroke at 
 them in jest. When we are placed on the summit of a 
 high tower, or on the edge of a precipice, although we 
 are perfectly assured of our safety by the reasoning pow- 
 er, the instinct of self preservation is constantly suggesting 
 other precautions. 
 
 §. 416. Further instances of instincts in men. 
 
 IV, — There is also a species of resentment, which may 
 properly be called instinctive. Deliberate resentment im- 
 plies the exercise of reason, and is excited only by inten- 
 tional injury. Instinctive resentment, on the other hand, 
 operates, whether the injury be intentional or not ; and 
 precisely as it does in the lower animals. 
 
 Whenever we experience pain which is caused by 
 some external object, this feeling arises in the mind with 
 a greater or less degree of power, and prompts us to retal- 
 iate on the cause of it.- A child, for instance, stumbles 
 
 over a stone or stick of wood, and hurts himself, and un- 
 der the impulse of instinctive resentment violently beats 
 
INSTINCTS. 545 
 
 the unconscious cause of its suffering. Savages, when 
 they have been struck by an arrow in battle, have been 
 known to tear it from the wound, break, and bite it with 
 their teeth, and dash'^t on the ground, as if the original 
 design and impetus of destruction were in the arrow it- 
 self. All persons of strong passions in particular show the 
 existence and workings of this instinct, when they wreak 
 their vengeance, as they often do, on inanimate objects, by 
 beating or clashing them to pieces. 
 
 V, — There is undoubtedly danger of carrying the doc- 
 trine of the instinctive tendencies of the human mind too 
 far, but we may consider ourselves safe in adding to those, 
 which hav^e been mentioned, the power of interpreting 
 natural signs. Whenever we see the outward signs of 
 rage, pity, grief, joy, or hatred, we are able immediately 
 to interpret them. It is abundantly evident, that children, 
 at a very early period, read and decypher, in the looks 
 and gestures of their parents, the emotions and passions, 
 whether of a good or evil kind, with which they are agi- 
 tated. 
 
 It must be admitted, that the power of interpreting 
 natural signs depends in part on experience and on deduc- 
 tions drawn from that experience ; but the power is evi- 
 dently in some degree instinctive. Often when we see, 
 both in children and in older persons, the strong outward 
 manifestations of grief,. when we are at the same time assur- 
 ed, that there is but little of suffering in fact, we find our- 
 selves very sensibly affected. So when we see an actor 
 on the stage, with distorted countenance and accents 
 of deep grief, the outward signs carry a m,omentary con- 
 viction and a momentary pang to our own hearts, in spite 
 of the admonitions of reason ; a circumstance which can- 
 not well be accounted for, except on the ground, that 
 these signs speak to us with a natural power ; that is to 
 say, are instinctively interpreted. 
 
 69 
 
CHAPTER SECOND. 
 
 APPETITES. 
 
 §. 417. OJ the general nature and characteristics of the ap- 
 petites. 
 
 Under the general head of Desires, the subject of 
 APPETITES seems next to propose itself for consideration. 
 But as it is one of limited extent, and of subordinate im- 
 portance in a metaphysical point of view, only a few re- 
 marks will be necessary. The arrangement , which brings 
 the subject forward for discussion in this place, Avill re- 
 commend itself on a very little attention . The prominent 
 appetites are those of hunger and thirst ; but the appe- 
 tite of hunger is nothing more than the desire for food ; 
 the appetite of thirst is a desire for drink. 
 
 Nevertheless they appear to be sufficiently distinguish- 
 ed from the other desires. They are not, like the instincts, 
 always gratified in a certain fixed and particular manner ; 
 ihor are they like them, in being wholly independent of 
 the reasoning power. On the contrary, they may be res- 
 trained and regulated in some degree; and when it is oth- 
 erwise, their demands may be quieted in various ways. 
 
 But without dwelling upon such considerations, the 
 statem.ent has been made with much appearance of reason, 
 that they are characterized by these three things; — (1) 
 They take their rise from t!ie body, and are common to 
 
APPETITES. 547 ' 
 
 men with the brntes. — (2)They are not constant in their 
 operation, but occasional. — (3)They are accompanied 
 with an uneasy sensation. 
 
 It may be remarked here, that the feeling of uneasiness 
 now referred to appears always to precede the desire or 
 appetite, and to be essential to it. 
 
 §. 418. The appetites necessary to our presentation, and not 
 orig-nally of a selfish character. 
 
 Although our appetites do not present much of inter- 
 est, considered as parts of oivr mental economy, they have 
 their important uses, in connection with the laws and re- 
 quirements of our physical nature. ^'The appetites of 
 
 hunger and thirst, says Stewart, were intended for the 
 preservation of the individual ; and without them reason 
 would have been insufficient for this important purpose. 
 Suppose, for example, that the appetite of hunger had 
 been no part of our constitution, reason and experience 
 might have satisfied us of the necessitv of food to our 
 preservation, but how should we have been able, without 
 an implanted principle, to ascertain, according to the 
 varying state of our animal economy, the proper seasons 
 for eating, or the quantity of food that is salutary to the 
 body? The lower animals not only receive this informa- 
 tion from nature, but are, moreover, directed by instinct 
 to the particular sort of food that it is proper for them to 
 use in health and in sickness. The senses of taste and 
 smell, in the savage state of our species, are subservient, 
 at least in some degree, to the same purpose. 
 
 "Our appetites can, with no propriety, be called selfish, 
 for they are directed to their respective objects as ulti- 
 mate ends, and they must all have operated, in the first in- 
 stance^ prior to any experience of the pleasure arising from 
 their gratification. After this experience indeed, the de- 
 sire of enjoyment will naturally come to be combined 
 with the appetite ; and it may sometimes lead us to stim- 
 ulate or provoke the appetite with a view to the pleasure, 
 which is to result from indulging it. Imagination, too, 
 and the association of ideas, together with the social af- 
 
548 APPETITES. 
 
 fectioD, and sometimes the moral faculty, lend their aid, 
 and all conspire together in forming a complex passion, in 
 which the animal appetite is only one ingredient. In 
 proportion as this passion is gratified^ its influence over 
 the conduct becomes the more irresistible, (for all the ac- 
 tive determinations of oiir nature are strengthened by 
 habit,) till at last we struggle in vain against its tyranny. 
 A man so enslaved by his animal appetites exhibits hu- 
 manity in one of its most miserable and contemptible 
 forms." 
 
 §. 419. Of the prevalence and origin of appetites for intox- 
 icating drugs. 
 
 There are not only natural appetites, but artificial or 
 acquired ones. It is no uncommon thing to find persons, 
 who have formed an appetite for ardent spirits, for to- 
 bacco, for opium, and intoxicating drugs of various kinds. 
 It is a matter of common remark, that the appetite for in- 
 ebriating liquors in particular is very prevalent, especially 
 among Savage tribes. — And it may be proper briefly to 
 explain the origin of such appetites. 
 
 Such drags and liquors, as have been referred to, have 
 the power of stimulating the nervous system ; and by 
 means of this excitement they cause a degree of pleasure. 
 This pleasurable excitement is soon followed by a corres- 
 ponding degree of languor and depression, to obtain re- 
 lief from which resort is again had to the intoxicating 
 draught or drug. This results not only in a restoration, 
 but an exhilaration of spirits ; which is again followed by 
 depression and distress. And thus resort is had time af- 
 ter time to the strong drink, the tobacco, the opium, or 
 whatever it is which intoxicates, until an appetite is form- 
 ed so strong as to subdue, lead captive, and brutalize the 
 subject of it. So that the only way to avoid the forming 
 of such a habit, after the first erroneous step has been ta- 
 ken, is quietly to endure the subsequent unhappiness at- 
 tendant on the pleasurable excitement of intoxication, till 
 
 *Stewart's Philosophy of the Moral and Active Powers^ Bk. I, 
 Chap. I. 
 
APPETITES. 549 
 
 the system has time to recover itself, and to throw off its 
 wrechedness by its own efforts. 
 
 §. 420. Of occasional desires for action and repose. 
 
 Our occasional desires for action and repose are, in 
 some respects allied to our appetites. Although it has so 
 happened, that these desires have not been marked by a 
 separate and specific name, they may justly claim, as parts 
 of our mental nature, some attention. Mr. Stewart re- 
 marks, that they have the three characteristics of the ap- 
 petites, and proceeds to speak of them as follows. 
 
 " They are common, too, to man and to the lower 
 animals, and they operate, in our own species in the most 
 infant state of the individual. In general, every animal 
 we know is prompted by an instinctive impulse to take 
 that degree of exercise which is salutary to the body, 
 and is prevented from passing the bounds of moderation 
 by that languor and desire of repose, which are the conse- 
 quences of continued exertion. 
 
 '' There is something also very similar to this with res- 
 pect to the mind. We are impelled by nature to the ex- 
 ercise of its different faculties, and we are warned, 
 when we are in danger of overstraining them, by a 
 consciousness of fatigue. After we are exhausted by 
 a long course of application to business, how delightful 
 are the first moments of indolence and repose ! che bella 
 cosa di far niente ! We are apt to imagine that no induce- 
 ment shall again lead us to engage in the bustle of the 
 world ; but, after a short respite from our labours, our 
 intellectual vigor returns; the mind rouses from its leth- 
 argy like a giant from his sleep, and we feel ourselves 
 urged by an irresistible impulse to return to our duties as 
 members of society." 
 
CHAPTER THIRD. 
 
 PROPENSITIES. 
 
 §. 42 1. General remarks on the nature of prGpensities. 
 
 As we pursue these inquiries, we meet with certain 
 Desires, which are different from any we have hitherto 
 attended to ; and which accordingly require a distinct 
 consideration. As they are neither instincts, nor appetites, 
 nor affections, as the latter term is commonly employed, 
 we shall find a convenience in designating them as Pro- 
 pensities. Among these are curiosity or the desire of 
 knowledge, sociability or the desire of society, emulation 
 or the desire of superiority, the desire of esteem, the pro- 
 pensity to imitate, &c. 
 
 Although they have not the fixed and definite charac- 
 ter of instincts, nor that close connection with bodily un- 
 easiness, which is characteristic of the appetites, it is dif- 
 ficult to state definitely what thos^ marks are, by which 
 these propensities are distinguished and known. It is 
 true, that they are to be regarded as simple desires, hav- 
 ing a particular, though not very definite direction ; but 
 it must be admitted, that this does not give a very spe- 
 cific notion of them. It seems, therefore^ to be necessary 
 to ascertain their nature from general statements, and 
 from the various facts, which, in making such statements, 
 will be alluded to. 
 
PROPENSITIES. 551 
 
 §. 422. Of curiosity or the desire of knowledge. 
 
 There is ample reason for believing, that the princi- 
 ple of curiosity or the desire of knowledge is one of the 
 elements and original characteristics of our mental consti- 
 tution. Although it must be acknowledged, that this 
 principle exists in very various degrees, from the weak- 
 est form of life and activity to almost irrepressible strength, 
 yet a person utterly without cariosity would be deemed 
 almost as strange and anomalous, as a person without sen- 
 sation. If curiosity be not natural to man, then it follows 
 that the human mind is naturally indifferent to the ohjects, 
 that are presented to it, and to the discovery of truth ; 
 and that its progress in knowledge is unattended with sat- 
 isfaction ; a state of things, w^hich certainly could not be 
 expected, and is not warranted by facts. In what school 
 of philosophy was it ever taught, that the human mind, 
 with this unbounded mental and material universe around 
 it, adorned throughout and brilliant with truth, has no 
 natural desire to possess and enjoy this beauty and radi- 
 ance of knowled«;e, but is equally well contented with the 
 glooms of ignorance! 
 
 We see the operation of this principle every where. 
 When any thing unexpected and strange takes place, the 
 attention of all persons is immediately directed towards 
 it ; it is not a matter of indifference, but all are anxious to 
 ascertain the cause. Without the aids of this strong de- 
 sire, how few persons would be found, who would be 
 willing to explore the intricacies of science, or search the 
 labyrinths of history ! And what an accession would 
 there be to the multitude of volumes, that remain unopen- 
 ed and untouched upon the shelves, where they are depos- 
 ited ! 
 
 There is at least one class of writers, whose prospects 
 of being read depend, in a great measure, on the workings 
 of this principle ; we refer to novelists and writers of 
 romance. However commonplace may be their concep- 
 tions, and however uninteresting their style, if they lay 
 the plan of their novel or romance with so much skill as 
 
652 
 
 PROPENSITIES. 
 
 strongly to excite the curiosity, they can command read- 
 ers. And this undoubtedly is the whole secret of success 
 in a multitude of cases. 
 
 In further proof of the existence of this propensity, it 
 may be proper to refer to the whole class of the Deaf and 
 Dumb, and to those unfortunate individualsjwho are blind, 
 as well as deaf and dumb. These persons almost uniform- 
 ly give the most striking indications of a desire to learn ; 
 it seems to glow in their countenance, to inspire their ges- 
 tures, and to urge them on, with a sort of violence, in 
 their inquiries. Certainly if the principle of curiosity 
 did not exist in great strength, they would be entirely 
 overcome by the multitude of discouragements, with which 
 they are encompassed. 
 
 But it is unnecessary to dwell upon these general con- 
 siderations, or to refer to extraordinary instances, when 
 we constantly witness in all infants and children the most 
 ample proofs of the existence of this principle. It seems 
 to be their life ; it keeps them constantly in motion ; from 
 morn till night it furnishes new excitements to activity, 
 and new sources of enjoyment. 
 
 " In the pleased infant see its power expand, 
 " When first the coral fills kis little hand ; 
 " Throned in his mother's lap, it dries each tear, 
 " As her sweet legend falls upon his ear ; 
 " Next it assails him in his top's strange hum, 
 " Breathes in his whistle, echoes in his drum ; 
 " Each gilded toy, that doting love bestows, 
 " He longs to break and every spring expose. 
 
 §. 423. Propensity to imitation or the desire of doing as 
 others do. 
 
 Another of the original propensities of the human 
 mind is the principal of imitation, or the desire of doing 
 as we see others do. We find the evidence of the exis- 
 tence of such a principle every where around us. 
 
 I, — If this propensity be not natural, it will be difficult 
 to account for what every one must have noticed in infan- 
 cy and childhood. And we take this occasion to remark. 
 
PROPENSITIES. 559 
 
 that, on this whole subject, we shall refer particularly to 
 the early periods of life. That is a time, when human 
 nature will be likely to show itself in its true features. 
 And in respect to the principle now before us, it is cer- 
 tain, that children are early found to observe with care 
 w^hat others do, and to attempt doing the like. They are 
 greatly aided by this propensity in learning to utter ar- 
 ticulate sounds. It is not without long continued efforts, 
 in which they are evidently sustained by the mere pleas- 
 ure of imitation, that they acquire the use of oral lan- 
 guage. 
 
 At a little later period of life, after having learnt to 
 articulate and having become old enough to take apart in 
 juvenile sp )rts, we find the same propensity at work. 
 With the animation and formidable airs of jockeys, 
 they bestride a stick for a horse, and try equestrian ex- 
 periments ; they conduct their small and frail carriages 
 through courts and streets, and journey w^ith their rude 
 sledges from one hill-top to another . Ever busily engaged, 
 they frame houses, build fortifications, erect water-works, 
 and lay out gardens in miniature. They shoulder a cane 
 for a musket ; practice a measured step and fierce look ; 
 and become soldiers, as well as gardeners and architects, 
 before they are men. 
 
 II, — But the operation of this propensity is not limited to 
 children ; men also do as their fathers have done before 
 them ; it often requires no small degree of moral courage 
 to deviate from the line of precedents. Whether right 
 or wrong, we feel a degree of safety, so long as we tread 
 in the pal h of others. * 
 
 This is shown in the most solemn transactions, partic- 
 ularly in judicial decisions. Seldom does the judge ap- 
 peal to original principles of right, and build his decis- 
 ion on the immutable will of the Supreme Being,as it is re- 
 vealed in the moral sentiments of all mankind, if he must do 
 it in the violation of a precedent. Indeed the whole admin- 
 istration of justice according to the forms of the Common 
 Lawisa most remarkable proof ofthe existence of this pro- 
 pensity. Those judicial proceedures were originally found- 
 
560 PROPENSITIES. 
 
 ed upon the principle before us ; and although they have 
 ever been supported by various considerations of their safe- 
 ty and vi^isdom, tliey still derive their stability from it in 
 a great measure. If we could expel from the human 
 bosom the principle of imitation, there would be far 
 less efficacy attached to many of the opinions and decrees 
 and doings of our ancestors, than there is at present. 
 But undoubtedly for sufficient reasons, it is wisely order- 
 ed that such an expulsion is imposible. 
 
 §. 42 0. Of sociability or the natural desire of society. 
 
 The next propensity, which we shall examine, is the 
 desire of union in civil societies, and of social intercourse 
 in general. If any principle whatever in relation to the 
 human mind is susceptible of being ascertained and estab- 
 lished by an appeal to facts, it is, that the desire of society 
 is natural to man. The following considerations will help 
 to show the justness of this remark. 
 
 I, — The existence of such a propensity is proved, in the 
 first place, like those of curiosity and imitation, by what 
 we notice in the early periods of life. No one is ignorant, 
 that infants and very young children exhibit a strong at- 
 tachment to their parents and others who tend upon them, 
 and a desire for their company and uneasiness at their ab- 
 sence. When left alone, even for a very short time, they 
 discover a great degree of unhappiness, which may some- 
 times be ascribed to fear, but more often to the mere sense 
 of loneliness, and the desire for society. 
 
 When other infants and children are brought into their 
 company, vi'hom they have never seen before, this pro- 
 pensity is at once shown in their smiles, their animated 
 gestures, and sparkling eyes. And when they are old 
 enough to go out and play in the streets, we find them al- 
 most always in groups. Their sports, their wanderings in 
 fields and forests, their excursions in fishing and hunting, 
 a:reall made in companies ; and the privilege of amusing 
 themselves in these ways, t)n the condition of not being 
 allowed the attendance of others, would be deemed scarce- 
 ly better than a punishment. 
 
PROPENSITIES. 561 
 
 II, — This propensity is very strongly shown also in 
 men grown up. It is true, that, finding greater resources 
 in themselves, they support retirement and solitude better 
 than children ; but it is very evident, that man's proper ele- 
 ment, (and that in which he alone dan be happy,) is society, 
 in some shape and in some degree. Hence the frequency 
 of family meetings, of convivial parties, of religious, lit- 
 erary, and political assemblies, which constantly occur in 
 all communities throughout the world, and which seem 
 to be almost as necessary to men as the air they breathe, 
 or their daily food. 
 
 Some may perhaps be disposed to speak of these things 
 as resulting from, or at least connected wuth the comforts 
 and conveniences of civilized life. But this explanation 
 is by no means sufficient. Il does not appear, that the so- 
 cial principle exhibits itself any where more strongly than 
 among groups of wandering gypsies, in the tents of stern 
 and restless Arabs, in the wigwams and hunting par- 
 ties of American Savages, or the cheerless abodes of the 
 poor and desolate Esquimaux. 
 
 Ill, — We may also find a proof of the existence of this 
 strong desire in all cases of confinement in prisons and of 
 exile. If the social propensity were not natural to us, 
 it is unaccountable, that exclusion, in any of these ways, 
 from the intercourse of former friendships, should be at- 
 tended with such unspeakable wretchedness. Even the 
 stern and inflexible Coriolanus, for whom all the forms 
 of danger and even of death seem to have had no terrors, 
 could not endure his protracted banishment from Rome 
 without bitter complaint, Multo miserius seni exilium esse. 
 
 IV, — Facts can be brought to show, that the desire of 
 society is so inseparable from man's nature and so strong, 
 that, if men are entirely excluded from the company of 
 their fellow men, they will be glad to make themselves 
 the companions of sheep, dogs, horses, goats, mice, spi- 
 ders, any thing whatever, which has life and motion. 
 
 Our limits will not permit us to multiply instances in 
 proof of v/hat is now said. A single incident will suflice. 
 Mr. Stewart, in illustrating this very subject, makes the 
 
562 
 
 PROPENSITIES. 
 
 following statement. 
 
 The count cle Lauzun was con. 
 
 fined by Louis XIV for nine years in the castle of Pignerol, 
 in a small room where no light could enter but from a 
 chink in the roof. In this solitude he attached himself to 
 a spider, and contrived for some time to amuse himself 
 with attempting to tame it, with catching flies for its sup- 
 port, and with superintending the progress of its web. 
 The jailor discovered his amusement, and killed the spi- 
 der ; and the count used afterwards to declare, that the 
 pang he felt on tlie occasion could be compared only to 
 
 that of a mother for the loss of a child." We hold it 
 
 to be quite certain, that such considerations and facts as 
 have been brought forward, and which might be multi- 
 plied to almost any extent, cannot be satisfactorily explain- 
 ed, except on the ground, that the love of society is orig- 
 inally implanted in man's bosom, and that he is exceeding- 
 ly unhappy without it. 
 
 §. 427. Of emulation or the desire of superiority. 
 
 Among other mental tendencies, coming within the 
 catalogue of propensities, we may reckon emulation or 
 the desire of superiority. Without undertaking to define 
 the feeling of emulation, which cannot effectually be done 
 on account of its entire simplicity, it is perhaps necessary 
 to distinguish it from envy. It is true, that the passion of 
 envy involves the desire of superiority, and so far is the 
 same as emulation ; but it differs in this, that it is accom- 
 panied with a feeling of ill will towards all competitors, 
 from which the feeling of pure emulation is free. It can 
 not be denied, however, that envy often follows in the 
 train of emulation ; and this is probably the reason of 
 their being so often confounded together, and spoken of, 
 as if they were one. 
 
 It is believed, that no one will require any length of 
 argument to prove the existence of the principle of emula- 
 tion. The whole world is its theatre ; and there is not a 
 country, nor canton, nor town, nor family, where its ef- 
 fects may not be seen ; all are eagerly rushing for*- 
 ward, dissatisfied with their present situation ; and they 
 
PROPENSITIES. 563 
 
 seldom witness any attainment, either in themselves, or in 
 others, beyond which they are not anxious to advance. 
 
 This principle has its important uses ; no one can 
 doubt, that it aids very essentially in keeping the powers 
 of men in suitable activity. We sometimes see individ- 
 uals of distinguished talents, who hold the same place in 
 public estimation, contending with all the powers of their 
 minds for the mastery over each other, and yet maintain- 
 ing a mutual respect and sincere friendship. But it cannot 
 be denied, that the spirit of kind and generous rivalry 
 is too apt to annul all the good effects that might be ex- 
 pected from it, by degenerating after a time into the most 
 hateful form of hostility, or by acquiring such intensity 
 as to overwhelm and expel every other principle of ac- 
 tion. 
 
 §. 428. Of the. natural desire of esteem. 
 
 Another distinct and important propensity is the desire 
 
 of esteem. ^In proof of the natural and original existence 
 
 of this principle in the human mind, we are at liberty to 
 appeal, as in the case of all the other propensities, to 
 what we notice in the beginnings of life and the first de- 
 velopements of the mental nature. Before children are 
 capable of knowing the advantages ; which result from the 
 good opinion of others, they are evidently mortified at 
 expressions of neglect or contempt, and as evidently plea- 
 sed with expressions of regard and approbation. As it 
 is impossible satisfactorily to account for this state of 
 things, on the ground of its being the result of reasoning, 
 experience, or interest, the only explanation left, is, that 
 this desire is a part of the connatural and essential furni- 
 ture of the mind. 
 
 IIj — We may remark further, that the desire of es- 
 teem is found to exist very extensively and strongly, in 
 the more advanced periods of life. If we look at the 
 history of nations and of individuals, how many men do 
 we find, who have been willing to sacrifice their life, 
 rather than forfeit the favourable opinion of others! 
 When they have lost all besides, their health, their for- 
 
564 PROPENSITIES. 
 
 tune, and friends, they cling with fondness to their good 
 name ; they point triumphantly to their unsullied reputa- 
 tion, as a consolation in their present adversities, and the 
 pledge of better things in time to come. This is espe- 
 cially true of those periods in the history of nations, when 
 the original sentiments and traits of the people have not 
 been corrupted by the introduction of the arts of luxury 
 and refinement. 
 
 Ill, — It is an additional proof in favour of the natural 
 origin of this propensity, that it operates strongly in ref- 
 erence to the future. We not only Avish to secure the 
 good opinion of others at the present time, and in refer- 
 ence to present objects, but are desirous, that it should be 
 permanent, whether we shall be in a situation directly to 
 experience any good effects from it, or not. Even after 
 we are dead, although we shall be utterly separated both 
 from the applauses and the reprobations of men, still we 
 wish to be held in respectful and honourable remembrance. 
 Fully convinced as we are, that no human voice shall ev- 
 er penetrate and disturb the silence of our tombs, the 
 thought would be exceedingly distressing to us, if we an- 
 ticipated, that our memories would be calumniated. We 
 may attempt to reason on the folly of such feelings, but 
 we find it impossible to annul the principles planted with- 
 in us, and to stifle the voice of nature speaking in the 
 breast. 
 
 The operation of this principle, when kept within its 
 due and appropriate limits, is favourable to human happi- 
 ness. It begins to operate at a very early period of life, 
 Jong before the moral principles have been fully brought 
 out and established ; and it essentially promotes a decency 
 and propriety of deportment, and stimulates to exertion. 
 Nevertheless, we are to guard with care against ma- 
 king the opinion of others the sole and ultimate rule of 
 our conduct. Temporary impulses, and peculiar local 
 circumstances may operate to produce a state of pub- 
 lic sentiment, to which a good man cannot conscientious- 
 ly conform. In all cases, where moral principles are in- 
 volved, there is another part of our nature to be consult- 
 
PROPENSITES. 565 
 
 ed. In the dictates of an enlightened Conscience, we 
 find a code, to which not only the outward actions, but 
 the appetites, propensities, and affections are all amenable, 
 and which infallibly prescribes the limits of their just ex- 
 ercise. 
 
 §. 429. Of th^ desire of possession. 
 
 Many things in man, and in the situation of objects 
 around him tend to inculcate upon him the fact, that he 
 has in some sense an independent existence, that he is an 
 agent, that he has powers, duties, and responsibilities. He 
 is not long in learning also, that creation is made for his 
 use ; that, in the scale of being,human nature is preeminent, 
 while brute aud physical nature is subordinate ; and that, 
 ill the constitution and ordering of things, a variety of ob- 
 jects are placed more or less directly under his own control. 
 Under these circumstances the idea of possession is early 
 developed,and with it a corresponding pleasure and desire. 
 There is no difference of opinion in relation to the simple 
 fact, that the desire of possession discloses itself at an early 
 period, and with no small strength. And when we con- 
 sider its universality, without limitation to any particular 
 class or regard to any particular situation in life, we may 
 well speak of it as natural. In other words, (which will 
 explain the epithet natural, when applied in this way,) the 
 constitution of man, operated upon by the circumstances 
 in which he is placed, inevitably tends to this result. 
 We suppose it will not be deemed necessary to occupy time 
 on this subject, any further than to refer in general terms, 
 as in other analogous cases, to childhood and youth, in il- 
 lustration and proof what 'has been said. 
 
 §. 430. Of the desire of power. 
 
 The love of power has commonly been reckoned 
 among the original Propensities. There are certainly 
 many things in favour of this opinion. The train of 
 thought, by which it is supported, will be understood from 
 the following passage of Mr. Stewart. 
 
 ''The infant, while still on the breast, delights in ex- 
 
566 PROPENSITIES. 
 
 erting its little strength on every object it meets with, and 
 is mortified, when any accident convinces it of its own im- 
 becility. The pastimes of the boy are, almost without 
 exception, such as suggest to him the idea of his power. 
 When he throws a stone, or shoots an arrow, he is pleased 
 with being able to produce an effect at a distance from 
 himself ; and, while he measures with his eye the ampli- 
 tude or range of his missile weapon, contemplates with 
 satisfaction the extent to which his power has reached, 
 it is on a similar principle that he loves to bring his 
 strength into comparison with that of his fellows, and to 
 enjoy the consciousness of superior prowess. Nor need 
 we search in the malevolent dispositions of our nature for 
 any other motive to the apparent acts of cruelty which 
 he sometimes exercise? over the inferior animals, — thesuf* 
 ferings of the animal, in such case, either entirely esca- 
 ping his notice, or being overlooked in that state of pleas- 
 urable triumph, which the wanton abuse of power commu- 
 nicates to a weak and unreflecting judgment. The active 
 sports of the youth captivate his fancy by suggesting sim- 
 ilar ideas, — of strength of body, of force of mind, of con- 
 tempt of hardship and of danger. And accordingly such 
 are the occupations in which Virgil, with a characteristi- 
 cal propriety, employs his young Ascanius. 
 
 " At peur Ascanius mediis in vallibus acri 
 
 " Gaudet equo ; jamque hos cursu, jam preeterit illos ; 
 
 " Spumantemque dari pecora inter inertia votis 
 
 '• Optataprum, autfulvum descendere raonte leonem. 
 
 "As we advance in years, and as our animal powers 
 lose their activity and vigour, we gradually aim at extend- 
 ing our influence over others by the superiority of for- 
 tune and station, or by the still more flatering superiority 
 of intellectual endowments, by the force of our under- 
 standing, by the extent of our information, by the arts of 
 persuasion, or the accomplishments of address. What 
 but the idea of power pleases the orator in managing the 
 reins of an assembled multitude, when he silences the rea- 
 son of others by superior ingenuity, bends to his purposes 
 
PROPENSITIES. 561 
 
 their desires and passions, and, without the aid of force, 
 or the splendor of rank, becomes the arbiter of the fate 
 of nations!"* 
 
 §.431. Of the desire of happiness. 
 
 We shall not attempt to explore this part of our sentient 
 nature any further than to add, that the desire of enjoy- 
 ment or happiness is a part of our mental constitution. No 
 one will presume to assert, that the desire of suffering is 
 natural ; that we ordinarily rejoice in the prospect of com- 
 ing woes, and endure them with gladness of heart. Nor 
 are there satisfactory grounds for the opinion, that enjoy- 
 ment and suffering are indifferent to the human mind ; 
 and that there is no choice to be had between them. Such 
 a supposition would be contrary to the common experi- 
 ence and the most obvious facts. On the contrary, our 
 own consciousness, and what we witness in others, effectu- 
 ally teach us, that the desire of happiness is as natural as 
 that of knowledge or of society, and even hardly less so, 
 than it is to desire food and drink, when we experience 
 the uneasy sensations of hanger and thirst. 
 
 Under the instigation and guidance of this strong pro- 
 pensity, men fill their granaries in anticipation of a day 
 of want, prepare raiment and houses, resort to medicines 
 in seasons of sickness, and take other measures for the 
 prolonging of life, health, and comfort. It is kindly pro- 
 vided that they are not left, in taking precautions subser- 
 vient to their preservation and well-being, to the sugges- 
 tions and the law of reason alone, but are guided and kept 
 in action by this decisive and permanent principle. And 
 it is proper to add, that this desire operates not only in 
 reference to the outward and bodily comforts, but also in 
 relation to inward consolations, the inspirations and sola- 
 ces of religion in the present life, and the anticipated pos- 
 session' of that more glorious happiness, which religious 
 faith attaches to a future state of existence. 
 
 ^Philosophy of the Moral and Active Powers, Chap. 11, 4. 
 71 
 
CHAPTER FOURTH. 
 
 THE AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 
 
 §. 432. JVature and general division of the affections. 
 
 Under the general head of Desires, it seems proper to 
 include the Affections, or passions; although the latter are 
 complex, and not simple states of mind. The feeling of 
 desire, however, makes a characteristic and prominent 
 part of them. The term affections is used, therefore, to de- 
 note a state of mind, of which some simple emotion is 
 always a part, but which differs from any single simple 
 emotion, in being combined with some form of that state 
 of the mind called desire. '^As to every sort of passion, 
 (saj^s Kaimes* who uses the word passions as synonymous 
 with affections,) we find no more in the composition but 
 an emotion pleasant or painful, accompanied with desire." 
 — It may properly be added here, that, in consequence 
 of this complexity, the passions have a character of per- 
 manency, which is not found to belong to any separate 
 emotions. 
 
 The Affections might conveniently be divided into 
 three classes ; the Benevolent, or those which consult the 
 good and happiness of others; the Selfish, or those which 
 chiefly consult our own preservation and pleasure ; and 
 the Malevolent, or those which imply a feeling of ill-will, 
 and a desire of injury to others. We merely refer, how- 
 
 * Elements of Criticism, Part I, Ch. 2. 
 
AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 56S 
 
 ever, to these distinctions, the recollection of which may 
 perhaps aid in the clearer understanding of the subject, 
 and in the correct application of epithets; but Avithout de- 
 signing, or considering it necessary to make them partic- 
 ularly prominent. 
 
 §. 433, Of the affection of love. 
 
 In going into an examination of this subject we shall 
 first consider the affection or passion of love; (it may 
 be remarked here that we employ the terms affections and 
 passions as of essentially the same import.) There are ma- 
 ny modifications or degrees of this passion ; the mere pre- 
 ference of regard and esteem, the warmer glow of friend- 
 ship, and the increased feeling of devoted attachment. 
 There are not only differences in degree, the passion itself 
 seems to be modified and to be invested with a different as- 
 pect according to the circumstances, in which it is found to 
 operate. The love, wdiich we feel for our friends, is dif- 
 ferent from that, which we feel for a parent or brother ; 
 and both are different from that, which we feel for our 
 country. But it is impossible to convey in words the 
 precise-distinctions, which may justly be thought to exist 
 both in kind and degree. Sach an attempt would only 
 involve the subject in greater confusion. 
 
 The passion under consideration is a complex one, and 
 we may discover in it at least two elements; viz., an emo- 
 tion of vivid delight in the contemplation of the object, 
 and a desire of good to that object. Hence there will al- 
 ways be found in the object some quality, either some ex- 
 cellence in the form, or in the intellect, or in the moral 
 traits, or in all combined, which is capable of exciting a 
 pleasurable emotion. There is a pleasing emotion, ante- 
 cedent to the desire of good to the object, which causes it; 
 but this happy feeling continues to exist, and to mingle 
 with the subsequent kind desire. And there may be sup- 
 posed to be a constant action and reaction, — the desire of 
 good increasing the strength of the pleasurable emotion, 
 and the mere fqeling of delight enhancing the benevolent 
 desire. When the kind desire, which is one of the ele- 
 
664 AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. . 
 
 ments of love, is not excited merely in consequence of our 
 having experienced the antecedent pleasurable emotion, 
 but in consequence of regarding that pleasurable emotion, 
 as indicative of qualities, to v^^hich the unalterable voice 
 of nature proii&unces, that our affectioiis may be justly 
 given, it is then a pure and exalting feeling. As to how 
 far this purity of feeling exists, there may undoubtedly 
 be a difference of opinion ; but just so far as it does, there 
 is a glow of the heart, analogous to the devotional feelings 
 of a higher and happier state of being. 
 
 §. 434. Of sympathy. 
 
 Sympathy^by the common use of lajiguages, implies an 
 interest in the welfare of others, and maybe considered in 
 two respects, being either an interest in their joy, or an 
 interest in their sorrow. The sympathetic man falls in 
 with the requisition of Scripture, rejoicing with those, who 
 rejoice, and weeping with those, who weep. His heart 
 kindles up v/ith happiness at beholding the happy, and he 
 
 sheds the tear for the miserable. But that sympathy, 
 
 which rejoices with the rejoicing, is only one of the forms 
 of love. In an analysis of our passions, it is entitled to no 
 separate place. Like love it is a feeling of delight, com- 
 bined with benevolent desires towards the object of it. 
 It is only the sympathy for sorrow, which can have a dis- 
 tinct consideration in the list of our passions. 
 
 Some have thought, that sympathy for sorrow is only a 
 modification of love ; but we may discover a difference 
 between them. We can sympathize in the griefs of those, 
 in whom we are able to discern no pleasing qualilies, and 
 even with those, who are positive objects of hatred. We 
 leave it to the feelings of any one to determine, Whether,if 
 he saw even his enemy perishing with hunger in a dungeon, 
 or his limbs broken on the rack, he would not harbour a 
 relenting emotion, and be glad at his rescue.^ If so, sym- 
 pathy for grief is different from love, for we may sympa- 
 thize with those, whom we do not, and cannot love ; and 
 consequently, is to be considered a distinct passion. 
 
AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 565 
 
 §. 435. Of gratitude. 
 
 The afFection of gratitude also, which we are next 
 to consider, approaches in its character to the more gen- 
 eral passion of love. Like the last named passion, it in- 
 cludes an emotion of pleasure or delight, combined with a 
 desire of good or a benevolent feeling towards the object 
 of it. But we never give the name of gratitude to this 
 combination of pleasing and benevolent feeling, except 
 it arises in reference to some benefit or benefits conferred, 
 
 No small part of that strong feeling, which is exercised 
 
 by children toward parents, is that species of love, which 
 is termed gratitude. They think of them, not only a& 
 possessing many qualities, which are estimable and lovely 
 in themselves ; but as fond and unwearied benefactors. 
 They cannot behold, without having their feelings strongly 
 moved, their earnest disposition to relieve their sufferings, 
 to supply their wants, to enhance their enjoyments. 
 
 Different individuals exhibit considerable diversity in 
 the exercise of grateful emotions. Some receive the fa- 
 vours heaped upon them without exhibiting any visible re- 
 turns of benevolent regard ; others are incapable of a 
 passive reception of benefits, and are strongly affected, 
 whenever they are conferred. This difference is probably 
 owing in part to original diversities of constitution ; and 
 is partly to be ascribed to different views of the characters 
 and duties of men, or to other adventitious circumstances. 
 
 §. 436. Of the parental affection. 
 
 If there be any affection whatever, which is entitled 
 to be considered a natural affection, it is that, which is 
 entertained by parents for their children. Commencing 
 at the birth of its beloved object, it does not merely main- 
 tain its original vigour and freshness, but increases them. 
 In all the vicissitudes of life, amid all suffering and dis- 
 honour and ingratitude, it remains a sacred and imperish- 
 able monument of the wisdom and goodness of the beings 
 who has implanted it. Can it be thought necessary to 
 enter into a formal proof of the existence of an affection. 
 
566 
 
 AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 
 
 which is predominant in all classes of society from the 
 throne to the cottage ? Where can the parent be found so 
 brutal as not to recognize its sway ? Where especially is 
 the mother, who is unwilling to make any sacrifice for 
 her child, even that of life itself? In the year 1807, a 
 British ship took fire in the straits of Bosphorus. 
 Among the multitude on board of her was an unfortunate 
 mother with her infant child. She had no care for her- 
 self ; she made no effort to escape ; but committing her 
 child to the protection of an officer, calmly awaited her 
 destiny, consoled and sustained by the hope, that her 
 offspring might possibly live. Amidst the exertions 
 of the officer, which were necessary in such an 
 emergency, the infant dropped into the sea. The unhap- 
 py mother*, as soon as she had discovered what had hap- 
 pened, plunged from the vessel's side, as if to preserve it, 
 and sinking in the billows, was seen no more.^ 
 
 This case, affecting as it is, is not mentioned as a solitary 
 one. It may be considered as only a fair exemplification 
 of the disinterestedness and strength of that exalted pas- 
 sion. Amid scenes of depravity, which shock every hon- 
 ourable sentiment, and evince the extinguishment of all 
 other ennobling principles, this is still found, and sheds 
 its cheering light on the darkness around it. 
 
 §. 437. Further remarks on the parental affection. 
 
 In asserting, that the parental affection necessarily and 
 naturally arises under its appropriate circumstances, we 
 are not ignorant, that a different view has sometimes 
 been taken, and that its existence has been attributed 
 solely to reason. In other words it has been maintained, 
 that parents cherish their offspring with great care and 
 fondness, because a very little reflection and examination 
 cannot fail to teach them, that it is both their interest and 
 their duty so to do. In answer to this view, we propose 
 
 the following considerations. 1, This explanation does 
 
 not seem to meet fully the facts in the case. Not in one 
 
 * Illustrationis of the Passions, Vol. I, p. 1,48. 
 
AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 567 
 
 case in a thousand and perhaps never, does the parental 
 affection present the aspect of mere preference or choice, 
 founded on prudential considerations. That passion, 
 which cannot arise till subsequently to the long and calm 
 deductions of reason, will be likely to exhiBit a want of 
 fervour and intensity, not at all corresponding to the 
 heated and quenchless flame of parental love. And be- 
 sides, reason would make distinctions. Reason would re- 
 quire some parents to love their children, because they are 
 healthy and active, and well formed and beautiful ; and 
 on like grounds, would impose on others a diminution of 
 their affection, because their children are sickly and maim- 
 ed, and destitute of personal charms. But the slightest 
 examination into facts will assure us, that parental love 
 does not graduate itself on these principles. Every pa- 
 rent loves his diseased and deformed child, who will al- 
 ways be a tax on his time and property and patience, with 
 as much ardour as those that are not so ; and perhaps 
 in most cases with greater intensity. 
 
 He can sympathize with the feelings of the celebrated 
 Bunyan, when about to be thrown into prison, who deep- 
 ly lamented his separation from his family, as the pulling 
 the flesh from the bones ; "especially my poor blind 
 child, who lay nearer my heart than all besides. Oh, the 
 thoughts of the hardships I thought my poor blind one 
 might undergo would break my heart to pieces ! Poor 
 child; thought I, what sorrow art ,thou like to have for 
 thy portion in this world ! Thou must be beaten ; must 
 beg ; suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, & a thousand calam- 
 ities, though I cannot now endure the wind should blow 
 upon thee ! "* 
 
 II, -There is another difficulty in the proposed explan- 
 ation. If the parental affection be founded on reason, then 
 it would seem to follow, that the strength of the affection 
 will be proportioned to the developement and strength 
 of the reasoning power. A man of great powers of 
 reasoning, who can estimate fully all the benefits con- 
 
 ^Southey's Ed. of Pilgrim's Progress, p. hx. 
 
568 AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 
 
 nected with the filial and parental relation, will love his 
 offspring more than another ; and civilized nations will 
 have stronger parental attachments than savage nations. 
 But neither of these is true ; no such line as this can be 
 drawn ; on the contrary it can be satisfactorily shown, that 
 the affection exists with peculiar strength among the poor, 
 the ignorant, and the savage. 
 
 •Go into the gloomy and unvisited forests of America ; 
 enter the wigwam of the most untutored Indian, whose 
 walls are perhaps darkened with the reeking memorials 
 of conquered enemies, and you will see even there the in- 
 vincible workings of nature, the ardent and quenchless out- 
 breakings of parental tenderness ; you will not fail to dis- 
 cover, that his children are the joy and pride even of the 
 fierce Savage, and that for them he is willing to toil, and 
 suffer, and even to die. Go to ignorant, wretched and 
 barbarian Africa, to the shores of the Tschad & the Quorra, 
 and nature is still the same ; the linger of God is written 
 upon the heart. Whenever you meet with mothers, who 
 have lost a child, you see them bearing about wooden fig- 
 ures, the rude but sacred imitations of their lifeless off- 
 spring. Nothing can induce them to part with these lit- 
 tle memorials, consecrated to their sorrow and their love. 
 They carry them about for an indefinite time. Whenever 
 they stop to take refreshment, a small portion of their 
 food is invariably presented to the lips of these images ©f 
 the dead.* What a striking testimony have we here, that 
 this strong passion exists in all climes and countries, and 
 among all classes, however debased by ignorance and su- 
 perstition. 
 
 Ill, — If reasoning be the foundation of the j^arental af- 
 fection in men, we should naturally be led to give the same 
 explanation of its origin in brute animals. But, although 
 the passion exists among them with equal strength, no 
 one thinks of applying the proposed explanation there. 
 Now if the existence of an original principle, operating 
 independently of reason, be necessary in brute animals, 
 
 * Lander's Journal of an Expedition in Africaj Vol. 1. pp. 120,5. 
 
AFFECTIONS OF PASSIONS. 569 
 
 there seems to be a like necessity for its exigter.ce in the 
 human race. This must be obvious when we consider, 
 that the wants, which the passion is calculated to meet, 
 are of the most urgent and pressing kind, and that the hu- 
 man race could not be perpetuated without It. The hu- 
 man infant is more helpless and dependent than the young 
 of the brute animal ; and this helplessness and dependence 
 continue for a longer time. If it be said that human rea- 
 son is far higher than that of the lower animals, it will not * 
 be pretended, that it is high enough to meet the extreme 
 exigency of the present case. It is not at all to be credi- 
 ted that mere reasoning, that cold and calculating deduc- 
 tion could support the untiring watchfulness and patience 
 and labour, incident to the parental relation, without the 
 aid of an original principle deeply rooted in the heart, 
 and always ready for action. 
 
 §. 438. Of the selfish affection or passion oj pride. 
 
 In considering what may be termed the selsish affec- 
 tions, our attention is naturally given to that of Pride. This 
 passion like all others has an object ; and the object is a 
 consciousness or belief of some superiority in ourselves. 
 The complex affection, called forth in view of this actual, 
 or supposed superiority, involves a pleasing emotion, ac- 
 companied with a desire, that others should be sensible of 
 that excellence or eminency which we possess over them. 
 It ought to be added, 'that the desire of the proud person 
 to make his superiority known, is limited by personal con- 
 siderations, and has no higher object than his own gratifi- 
 cation. When the passion, in its true and appropriate 
 form, exists, it cannot possibly be identified with any- 
 thing great or ennobling. 
 
 There are many modifications of this, no less than of the 
 other passions. When it is very officious, and makes an 
 ostentatious display of those circumstances,in which it im- 
 agines its superiority to consist, it is termed vanity. 
 When it discovers itself, not so much in the display of the 
 circumstances of its superiority as in a contempt, and in 
 72 
 
570 AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 
 
 sneering disparagements of the inferiour qualities of oth- 
 ers, it is termed haughtiness or arrogance. 
 
 The passion of pride is not limited to the possession of 
 any one object or quality, or to any single circumstance 
 or combination of circumstances. One is proud of his 
 ancestry, another of his riches, and a third of the beauty of 
 his dress or person. It is the same feeling in the states- 
 man, and the jockey ; in the leader of armies and the hun- 
 ter of hares and foxes ; in the possessor of the princely 
 palace, and of the well v/rought cane or snuff-box. 
 
 Some have thought, that many good results, connected 
 with human enterprize and efforts, may be justly ascribed 
 to the influence of this passion. On the other hand, it has 
 been maintained, that there are other principles of action 
 of a more generous and ennobling kind, which might ac- 
 complish, and ought to accomplish all, which has been 
 attributed to this. Certainly a little reflection, a little in- 
 sight into our origin, infirmities, and wants, would tend to 
 diminish the degree of it, if nothing more. ''If we could 
 trace our descents, (says Seneca,) we should find all 
 slaves to come from princes, and princes from slaves. 
 To be proud of knowledge is to be blind in the light ; 
 to be proud of virtue, is to poison ourselves with the anti- 
 dote ; to be proud of authority, is to make our rise our 
 downfall." 
 
 §. 4£9. Of fear: 
 
 The affection or passion of fear always implies, and is 
 founded on the conviction of some danger. It according- 
 ly involves a simple emotion of pain, caused by an object 
 which we anticipate will be injurious to us, attended with 
 a desire of avoiding such object or its injurious effects. 
 
 It cannot be doubted, that this passion is implanted in 
 man for wise and good purposes ; but we, nevertheless, 
 properly call it a selfish passion, since it has reference al- 
 most exclusively to our own preservation. And not un- 
 frequently this trait is so predominant, that it impels men 
 to sacrifice their own kindred and friends. 
 
 The strength or intensity of fear will be in proportion 
 
AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 571 
 
 to the apprehended evil. There is a difference of origin- 
 al susceptibility of this passion in different persons ; and 
 the amount of apprehended evil will, consequently, vary 
 with the quickness of such susceptibility. But whatever 
 causes may increase or diminish the opinion of the degree 
 of evil, which threatens, there will be a correspondence 
 between the opinion, which is formed of it, and the fear- 
 ful passion. 
 
 When this passion is extreme, it prevents the due 
 exercise of the moral susceptibility, and interrupts correct 
 judgment of any kind whatever. It is a feeling of great 
 power, and one that will not bear to be trifled with. It 
 may serve as a profitable hhit, to remark, that there have 
 been instances of persons thrown into a fright suddenly, 
 and perhaps in mere sport, which has immediately resulted 
 in a most distressing and permanent mental disorganiza- 
 tion. In (;ases, where the anticipated evil is very great, 
 
 and there is no hope of avoiding it in any way, the mind 
 exists in that state, which is called despair. 
 
 §. 440. Of the passion oj ha- red. 
 
 The passion of hatred, which may properly be term- 
 ed -a Malevolent one, is the opposite to that of love. 
 And as the latter was found to be complex, the former also 
 may be separated into opposite, though analogous ele- 
 ments, viz. an emotion of pain, and a desire of injury to 
 the object or cause of the painful feeling. For a correct 
 notion, however, of this passion, as well as of its opposite, 
 we must resort to our own experience. Some have main- 
 tained, that the malevolent affections, in the present 
 condition of the world, are necessary and commendable ; 
 that without them frauds and oppressions would come 
 boldly forth into the great community of mankind. It 
 cannot be denied, that a spirit of watchfulness and of ret- 
 ribution is necessary ; but it is not so evident that there 
 is need of malevolence. The Supreme Being is a sover- 
 eign, who does not grant impunity to sin ; but he is rep- 
 resented as correcting with the feelings of a parent, and as 
 
572 AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 
 
 anxious for the good of those, who have subjected them- 
 selves to his chastisements. 
 
 §. 44*. Of anger. 
 
 The passion of anger does not appear to differ essen- 
 tially in its nature from that of hatred. When the painful 
 emotion, and the desire of evil to the object of it, which 
 are implied in hatred, arise suddenly and violently on the 
 reception, or supposed reception of some injury, or from 
 some other cause, if any can be imagined, the state of the 
 mind is then called anger. That is to say, we suppose, 
 anger is essentially the same with hatred, and differs from 
 the ordinary forms of that passion chiefly in the circum- 
 stance oi" great suddenness and violence. 'When the 
 
 passion of anger is protracted, awaiting in all its power 
 for some more favourable opportunity to show itself, it 
 becomes revenge. We speak of such a state of the soul 
 as revengeful. 
 
 Ths precept of St. Paul, '' Be ye angry, and sin not, " 
 (Eph. IV. 2).,) reminds us, that this passion is liable to ex- 
 ceed due limits, and also that we ought to cherish such 
 considerations, as are likely to check and properly control 
 
 its iafiuence When we are angry, we should consider, 
 
 in tlic iirai place, that we may have mistaken the motives 
 of the person, whom we imagine to have injured us. Per- 
 haps the oversight or crime,which we alledge against him, 
 was mere inadvertance. And it is possible, that his inten- 
 tions were favourable towards us, instead of being, as we 
 suppose, of a contrary character. (2) We shoidd con- 
 sider, secondly, tliat the indulgence of this passion on 
 slight occasions renders us contemptible m the sight of all 
 around us ; it excites no pity, nothing but feelings of 
 scorn ; and, therefore, instead of being a punishment to 
 the cause or supposed cause of the affront, only increases 
 
 our own misery. (3) Let it be remembered. also, that 
 
 when the mind is much agitated by this passion, it is in- 
 capable of correct judgment; actions, considered as the 
 indications of feeling and character, do not appear in their 
 
AFFECTrONS OR PASSIONS. 573 
 
 true light ; and the moral susceptibility is overborne and 
 rendered useless. The saying of Socrates to his servant? 
 " I would beat you, if I were not angry," although utter- 
 ed by a Heathen, is not unworthy of the Christian philos- 
 ophy. 
 
 (4) There is another consideration, which ought to 
 prevent the indulgence of this passion, and to allay its ef- 
 fects ; It is, that all have offended against the Supreme 
 Being, and stand in "need of pardon from Him. Every 
 one, who knows his own heart, must see, and feel himself 
 to be a transgressor. How pitiful is it, then, for man to 
 talk largely of satisfaction and revenge, when he is every 
 moment dependent on the clemency and forgiveness of a 
 Bein^, whom he has disoheved and disrecrarded ! 
 
 There is a species of anger, termed peevishness or 
 FRETFQLNEss, which oTteii interrupts the peace and happi- 
 ness of life. It diiiers-from ordinary anger in being exci- 
 ted by very trifling circumstances, and in a strange facili- 
 ty of inflicting its effects on every body, and every thing 
 within its reach. The peevish man has met with some 
 trifling disappointment, (it matters but little what it is,) 
 and the serenity of whole days is disturbed ; no smiles 
 are to be seen ; every thing, whether animate or inan- 
 mate, rational or irrational, is out of place, and falls under 
 
 the rebuke of this fretful being. Genuine anger is like 
 
 a thunder shower, that comes dark and heavily, but leaves 
 a clear sky afterwards. But peevishness is like an ob- 
 scure, drizzling fog ; it is less violent, and lasts longer. In 
 general, it is more unreasonable and unjust, than violent 
 anser, and would certainlv be more disagreeable, were it 
 not often, in consequence of being so disproportioned to 
 its cause, irresistibly ludicrous. 
 
 §. 443. Of jealousy. 
 
 Jealousy involves a painful emotion, caused by some 
 object of love, and attended with a desire of evil towards 
 
 that object The circumstance, which characterizes this 
 
 passion and constitutes its peculiar trait, is, that all its bit- 
 terness and hostility are inflicted on some one, whom the 
 
574 AFFECTIONS OR PASSIONS. 
 
 jealous person loves. The feeling of suspicious rivalship, 
 which often exists between candidates for fame and power, 
 is sometimes called jealousy on account of its analogy to 
 
 this passion. There are various degrees of jealousy, 
 
 from the fornis of mere distrust and watchful suspicion, to 
 its highest paroxysms. In general the strength of the pas- 
 sion will be found to be in proportion to the value, which 
 is attached to the object of it ; and is perhaps more fre- 
 quently found in persons, who have a large share of pride, 
 than in others. Such, in consequence of the habitual be- 
 lief of their own superiority, are likely to notice many tri- 
 fling inadvertencies, and to treasure them up as a proof 
 of intended neglect, which would not have been observed 
 by others, and certainly were exempt from any evil in- 
 tention. 
 
 The person under the influence of this passion is inca- 
 pable of forming a correct juBgment of the conduct of 
 the individual, who is the object of it ; he observes every 
 thing and gives it the worst interpretation ; and circum- 
 stances, which, in another state of the mind, would have 
 been tokens of itmocence, are converted into proof of 
 guilt. xVlthough poetry, it is certainly no fiction ; 
 
 -"Trifles, light as air. 
 
 "Are to the jealous confirmations strong, 
 "As proofs of holy writ. 
 
 It may be remarked of this passion, that it is at times 
 exceedingly violent. At one moment the mind is animated 
 with all the feelings of kindness ; the next, it is transported 
 with the strongest workings of hatred, and then it is sud- 
 denly overwhelmed with contrition. Continually vacillat- 
 ing between the extremes of love and hatred, it knows no 
 rest ; it would gladly bring destruction on the object, 
 whom it dreads to lose more than any other, and whom 
 
 at times it loves more than any other. See Cogan's 
 
 Treatise on the Passions, and Brown, Lect. lx. lxv. 
 
PART THIRD. 
 
 SENTIENT STATES OF THE MIND. 
 
 CLASS THIRD, 
 
 FEELINGS OF OBLIGATION, 
 
CHAPTER FIRST. 
 
 NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 
 
 §. 443. The existence of these feelings evinced by con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 Under the general head of the Sentient part of our 
 constitution,we next proceed to consider a very important 
 class of mental states, which, for the want of a single term 
 expressive of them, we shall call feelings or sentiments of ob- 
 ligation. We cannot doubt of its being readily admitted^ 
 that these feelings belong to the Sentient constitution, in 
 distinction from the Intellectual. It may be safely asserted 
 on the testimony of consciousness, that they are different 
 from the mere acts of the understanding, from mere 
 thought, from mere intellectual perceptions. Independ- 
 ently of the intimations of consciousness in this particular, 
 which of themselves decisively indicate the propriety of 
 this arrangement, they have this important characteristic 
 in common with other developements of the sentient na- 
 ture, that they are most intimately and effectively con- 
 nected with action. It must be obvious, that all intellec- 
 tual states of the mind are inefficient in this respect, ex- 
 cept so far as they arouse to action by the circuitous pro- 
 73 
 
578 NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 
 
 cess of operating tIiroii<^Ii the emotions, desires, voli- 
 tions. Sic. 
 
 Our first inquiry, although it v/ill perhaps be consider- 
 ed an unnecessary waste oTtime, has relation to the actual 
 and distinct existence of obligatory feelings. The exis- 
 tence of feelings of this description, is evinced, in the first 
 place, by o.ur own consciousness. We might safely appeal 
 to the internal conviction and the recollections of any 
 man whatever, and ask, whether there have not been peri- 
 ods in the course of his life, in which he has experienced 
 a new and authoritative ttate of mind ; a peculiar, but 
 undefinable species of mental enforcement, which required 
 him to perform some particular act, and to avoid doing 
 some other act, even when his interests and his desires 
 seemed to be averse to the requisition thus made upon 
 him ? And if so, we have here an instance of moral obli- 
 gation, a feeling or sentiment of duty, the precise thing 
 which is meant; when we say we onght to do, or ought not, 
 to do. 
 
 Take a common, and simple illustration. A person, in 
 passing along the streets, saw an old man sitting by the 
 way side, who bore about hisn the most convincing marks 
 of want, wretchedness, and sincerity in his applications 
 for relief ; he gave him bread, clothing, and money, con- 
 scious that it was done, not in view of any personal interest 
 or gratification, or of any selfish object wliatever, but un- 
 der the impulse and guidance of this peculiar enforcement 
 •within ; and if so, he then and there had a distinct know- 
 ledge of the moral sentiment or reeling under considera- 
 tion. And this knowledge was from consciousness. 
 
 §. 444. Further proof from the conduct of men. 
 
 The existence of feelings of obligation is further shown 
 by the general conduct of men. — It cannot be denied, 
 that other motives, distinct from convictions of duty, 
 often operate upon them. Their desires, hopes, fears, 
 sympathies, their present and future interests all have an 
 effect. But it woidd certainly argue an evil opinion of 
 human nature altogether unwarranted, to maintain, that 
 
NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 579 
 
 they are never governed by motives of a more exalted 
 kind. In a multitade of cases they are found to perform 
 Avhat is incumbent upon them, in opposition to their fears, 
 in opposition to their sympathies, and their apparent in- 
 terests. Different persons will undoubtedly estimate the 
 amount of interested motives as greater or l^ss, according 
 as a greater ar less portion of the good or evil of human 
 nature has come within their own cognizance ; but it is 
 impossible, after a cautious and candid review of the 
 principles of human action, to exclude entirely the elements 
 of uprightness and honour. If there is any truth in histo- 
 ty, there have always been found, even in the most cor- 
 rupt periods of society, upright and honourable men. 
 And if we are at liberty to infer men's character from 
 their actions, as assuredly we are, we may assert with con- 
 fidence, that there are such at the present time. But a 
 man of true uprightness and honour is one, who acts from 
 the sentiment of duty, the feeling of moral obligation ^ 
 in distinction from motives of an inferior kind. 
 
 §. 445. Further proof from language and literature. 
 
 The existence of obligatory feelings is fur.lier proved, 
 not only by each one's consciousness, and by the conduct 
 of men generally, but by language and literature. In 
 most lancruages and probably in all, there are terms ex- 
 pressive of obligation or a sense of duty. No account 
 could be given of the progress of society, and of the situ- 
 ation and conduct of. individuals without making use of 
 such terms. If the words rectitude, crime, uprightness, 
 virtue, merit, vice, demerit, right, wrong, ought, obliga- 
 tion, duty, and others of like import were struck out 
 from the English tongue, (and the same might be said of 
 other lancruages,) it would at once be found unequal to 
 the expression of the phenomena, which are constantly 
 occurring in the affairs of men. Now as these terms 
 occur, it is rational to suppose, that they intimate some- 
 thing-, that they have a meaning, that they express a reali- 
 ty. But it does not appear, how this can be said of them. 
 
530 
 
 NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 
 
 unless we admit the actual existence of obligatory feel 
 
 Turning oar attention from single words and phra- 
 ses, if we enter into an examination of the literature 
 
 of a language, we shall come to the same result. A 
 
 great portion of every nation's literature is employed in 
 giving expression and emphasis to moral principles and 
 sentiments. They find a conspicuous place in the most 
 Valuable speculations, not of professed moralists merely, 
 but of historians, poets, orators, legislators, &c. But 
 their frequent introduction would seem to be altogether 
 misplaced, unsuitable, and unmeaning, if there were no 
 real and permanent distinction between virtue and vice, 
 between the sacred requisitions of duty and those of mere 
 personal interest. One of the Roman historians* very hap- 
 pily remarks of the elder Cato, that he never performed 
 an upright action, in order that he might have the appear- 
 ance of being an upright person in the view of men, but 
 because he could not do otherwise ; (qui nunquam recte fecit, 
 ut facere videretur, -sed quia aliter facere non poterat.) 
 Every one, who is familiar with the characteristic traits of 
 Cato, will assent to the justness of the remark ; but still it 
 would be nugatory and unmeaning, without the existence 
 of original principles, involving an internal and moral 
 obligation. If any one will take the pains to peruse the 
 writings of Tacitus in particular, he will fully see the 
 bearing of these observations. That celebrated historian 
 sketches, in colours dark and terrible, the pictures of cru- 
 elty and selfishness, treachery and deceit, but at the same 
 time he diff'uses over the nether horrors of flame and 
 smoke the sunlike radiance of benevolence, patriotism, and 
 truth. Now if you strike out from the human breast 
 the emotions of approval and disapproval, and those 
 feelings of obligation, which are subsequently built upon 
 them, you necessarily strike out, not only from Tacitus, 
 but from almost all historians of acknowledged merit, the 
 most eloquent and ennobling passages ; every thing in 
 
 * Paterculus. 
 
^ NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS 531 
 
 fact, which places truth in opposition to falsehood, and 
 contrasts meanness and sellism v*^ith justice, rectitude, and 
 honour. 
 
 §. 446. Further proof from the necessity of these fedlngs. 
 
 And in connection with the observations which have 
 been brought forward, we may further ask, what would 
 men be, or what would society be, without this basis of 
 moral obligation ? There must be somewhere a founda- 
 tion of duty. It does not appear, how the bond, which 
 unites neighbourhoods and states, can be maintained with 
 any degree of strength, without something of this kind. 
 Annihilate this part of our constitution, and would not 
 society be dissolved? Would not violence and wrath 
 and utter confusion immediately succeed ? The sympa- 
 thies and the selfish interests of Our nature might do some- 
 thing by way of diminishing these evil results, but could 
 not wholly prevent them. With the dislocation of the 
 great controlling principles, v/hich regulate the action of 
 the moral world, there would soon be an utter confusion 
 in the movements of society, and all the unspeakable evils, 
 attendant on such a state of things. 
 
 We are aware it can be said, that we have the feelings 
 of approval and disapproval, which are of a moral nature. 
 This is true. By means of those feelings we are enabled 
 to pronounce a speedy decision on the merit or demerit of 
 the conduct of others ; but of themselves they seem to 
 have no controlling power over our own actions. It is unde- 
 niably necessary, when we consider the various relations 
 we sustain to other accountable beings, that we should be 
 able to pass a judgment on them. And it appears equally 
 necessary,when we consider our own nature and destinies, 
 that there should be moral principles within us, regulating 
 our own conduct. Undoubtedly the two classes of feeling 
 are closely connected ; emotions of approval and disap- 
 proval are antecedent to, and are the foundation of feelings 
 of obligation ; but the fact of their close connection does 
 not prove their identity. Both exist and both are neces-^ 
 
 
5S2 NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 
 
 sarv. With the one class alone, we might pass a right 
 decision on' others, but vvoiikl be liable constantly to go 
 wrong ourselves. With the other class alone, v/e should go 
 right ourselves, but could have no knowledge of right and 
 wrong in others. So that the absence of either, particu- 
 larly of feelings of obligation, would have a disastrous 
 bearing on the conduct of men, and on the various inter- 
 ests of society. 
 
 §. 447. Feelings of ohligation simple and no' susceptible of de~ 
 
 finilmi. 
 
 In view of what has been said we assert with confidence, 
 that the feelings in question exist. In looking into their 
 nature, although we do not flatter ourselves with being 
 able, by a mere verbal statement, to give a satisfactory 
 notion of them, we would direct the attention to some 
 characteristic marks. And the first observation to be 
 made is, that these states of mind are simple. We cannot 
 resolve them into parts, as we can any complex state of 
 mind, . And as a necessary consequence of this, they are 
 not susceptible of definition. Still we cannot admit, that 
 this simplicity and the consequent inability to define them 
 renders men ignorant of their nature. It is true, that the 
 man, who has never experienced the sentiment of obliga- 
 tion in his o^vn bosom, can have no better means of know- 
 ing it from the descriptions of others, than the blind man 
 can have for understanding the nature of the colours of 
 the rainbow. But such a case is hardly a supposable one; 
 among all the tribes of men and amid all the varieties of 
 human degradation, it will probably not be found to exist; 
 and we may therefore say with confidence, that every 
 man knows what the feeling of obligation is, not less than 
 he knows what the feeling o^ joy, of sorrow, and of ap- 
 proval is. In other words, men have as ready and clear 
 an idea of it, as of any other simple notion or feeling. 
 
 §.448. They are susceptible of different degrees. 
 
 In obtaining this knowledge, Iiowever,which evidently 
 cannijt be secured to us by any mere process defining, 
 
NATURE OB^ OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 583 
 
 we must consult our consciousness. We are required to 
 turn the mind inward on itself, and to scrutinize the pro- 
 cess of interiour operation, on the "various occasions of 
 endurance, trial, and action, which so often intersect the 
 paths of life. The same consciousness, which gives us a 
 knowledge of the existence of the feeling; and of its g-ener- 
 al nature, assures us furthermore, thet it exists in various 
 degrees. This fact may be illustrated by remarks former- 
 ly made in reference to another state of mind. The word 
 lieliefis the name of a simple mental state; but no one 
 doubts, that belief exists in different degrees, which we 
 express by a number of terms, such as presumption, prob- 
 ability, high probability, and certainty. la like manner, 
 the feeling of obligation may evidently exist in various 
 degrees ; and- we often express this variety of aegrees by 
 different terms and phrases, such as moral inducement, 
 slight or strong inducement, imperfect obligation, perfect 
 obligation, &c. 
 
 §. 449. Of thei?^ aiUhoritaiive and enforcing nature. 
 
 It may be remarked further in respect to obligatory 
 feelings, that they always imply action, somethino- to be 
 done. And again they never exist, except in those cases, 
 where not only action, but effective action is possible, or is 
 supposed to be so. We never feel under moral obligation 
 to do any thing, vvdiich we are convinced at the same time is 
 beyond our power. It is v/itliin these limits the feel i no- 
 arises ; and while we cannot define il, we are able to inti- 
 •mate, though som.ewhat imperfectly, another characteris- 
 tic. % What we mean will be understood by a reference to 
 the words enforcement, constraint, or compulsion. Every 
 one is conscious, that there is somethhig in the nature of 
 feelings of moral obligation, approaching to the character 
 of enforcement or compulsion ; yet not by any means in 
 the material sense of those terms. There is no enforce- 
 ment,analogous to that which may be applied to the body, 
 and which may be made irresistible. 
 
 The apostle Paul says, " the love of Christ constraineth 
 us." What is the meaning of this ? Merely that the mer- 
 
534 
 
 NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 
 
 cy of Christ, exhibited in the salvation of men, excited 
 such a sentiment of obligation, that they found in theniselves 
 a great unwillingness to resist its suggestions, and were 
 determined to go forth, proclaiming that mercy, and ur- 
 ging all men to accept it. And it is in reference to this 
 state of things we so frequently assert, that we are bound, 
 that we are obliged, or even that we are compelled to pur- 
 sue a particular course in preference to another course ; 
 expressions, which, in their original import, intimate the 
 existence of a feeling, which is fitted by its very nature 
 strongly to control oar volition. But, although these ex- 
 pressions point to this trait of the feeling, tbej do it but 
 imperfectly and indistinctly, and consciousness alone can 
 give a full understanding of it. 
 
 §. 450. Feelings\f obligation differ from those of mere ap- 
 prwal and disapproval. 
 
 It is possible tbiit the question may be started why we 
 do not class these feelings with Emotions, particularly 
 those of a moral kind. And recognizing the propriety of 
 avoiding an increase of clas:es, where it is not obviously 
 called for, we do not decline answering the question. — We 
 have not classed the mental states under examination wdih 
 Emotions, in the first place, because they do not appear to 
 be of that transitory nature, which seems to be character- 
 istic of all emotions. Ordinarily they do not dart into 
 the soul with tlie same rapidity, shining up, and then disap- 
 pearing like the sudden lightning in the clouds ; but ta- 
 king their position more slowly and gradually, they remain 
 like the sun bright aad permanent. In the course of an 
 hour a person may experience hundreds and even thou- 
 sands of emotions of joy or grief, of beauty or sublimity, 
 and various other kinds. They come and go, return and 
 depart again in constant succession and with very frequent 
 changes ; but it probably will not be pretended, that the 
 feelings of duty, which, are destined to govern man's con- 
 duct, and which constitute his most important principles 
 of action, are of such a rapid, variant, and evanescent na- 
 ture. A man feels the sentiment of duty now, and it is 
 
NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 585 
 
 reasonable to anticipate, unless the facts, presented to his 
 mind, shall essentially alter, that he will feel the same to- 
 morrow, next week, next month, and next year. He may 
 as well think of altering and f)lienating the nature of the 
 soul itself, as of eradicating these feelings, when they have 
 once taken root, so long as the objects, to which they re- 
 late, remain the same in the mind's view. 
 
 §. 451. Further considerations on the same subject. 
 
 A second reason for not classing feelings of obligation 
 with emotions, particularly moral ones, is the fact, that 
 obligatory sentiments have special reference to the future. 
 Moral emotions are of a peculiar kind ; they have a 
 character of their own, wHich is ascertained by coli- 
 sciousness ; but they merely pronounce upon the charac- 
 ter of objects and action^, that are either past or present ; 
 upon the right or wrong of what has actually taken place 
 in time past, or is taking place at the present moment ; 
 with the single exception of hypothetical cases, which are 
 brought before the mind for a moral judgment to be past up- 
 on them. But even in these cases, as far as the action of the 
 moral sense is concerned, the objects of contemplation are 
 in effect present. *rhe conscience passes its judgment up- 
 on the objects in themselves considered ; and that is all. 
 It goes no further. 
 
 But it clearly seems to be different with the feelings 
 under consideration. The states of mind, involving obli- 
 gation and duty, have reference to the future ; to some- 
 thing, which is either to be performed, or the performance 
 of which is to be avoided. They bind us to what is to 
 come. They can have no possible existence, except in 
 connection with what is to be done, either in the inward 
 feeling or the outward effort. The past is merged in 
 eternity, and no longer furnishes a place for action. Obli- 
 gation and duty cannot reach it, and it is given over to ret- 
 ribution. 
 
 Another and third important circumstance to be taken 
 into view, in making out the distinction under our notice, 
 is, that the sentiments or feelings, of obligation are alvi^ays 
 74 
 
586 NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 
 
 subsequent in point of time to moral emotions ; and cannot 
 possibly exist, unless preceded by them. The statement is 
 susceptible of illustration in tliis way. Some complicated 
 state of things, involvinor moral considerations, is j)resented 
 before us ; we inquire and examine into it ; emotions of 
 approval or disapproval then arise. And this is all that 
 takes place, if we ourselves have,inno way whatever, any 
 direct and active concern, eiher present or future. But 
 if it be otherwise, the moral emotions are immediately 
 succeeded by a distinct and imperative feeling, the senti- 
 ment of obligation, which binds us, as if it were the voice 
 of God speaking in the soul, to act or not to act, to do 
 or not to do, to favour or to op])ose. How common a 
 thing it is for a person to* say, that he feels no moral 
 obligation to do a thing, because he does not ap- 
 prove it ; or on the contrary, that, approving any 
 proposed course, he feels under obligation to pursue 
 it ; language, which undoubtedly means (something, 
 and which implies a distinction between the mere 
 moral emotion and the feeling of obligation ; and which 
 tends to j)rovethe prevalence of the common belief, that 
 obligation is subsequent to, and dependent on approval 
 
 or disapproval. On looking at th*e subject in these 
 
 points of vieWi we cannot come to the conclusion to rank 
 feelings of obligation with moral emotions, or with any- 
 other emotions ; but are induced to assign them a distinct 
 place. But it is not surprising on the whole, that moral 
 emotions are often confounded with them, when we con- 
 sider the invariable connection between the two just spo- 
 ken of, and when also Ave consider the imperfection of 
 language, which not unfrequently applies the same 
 terms to both classes of mental states. 
 
 §. 453. Feelings of obligation d'ffer from desires. 
 
 F<.r the reasons which have now been stated, feelincrs 
 of obligation are not classed with Emotions. We are 
 next asked perhaps, why they are not classed under the 
 general head of Desires. And in answering this question, 
 we say in the fikst place, that consciousness clearly points 
 
NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 587 
 
 out a difference. It is believed, that few matters come 
 witliifi the reacli and cognizance of consciousness, which 
 can be more readily decided upon, than the difference 
 between our desires and our feelings of obiigatien. We 
 admit, that, in the particular of their fixedness or perma- 
 nency and also of their relation to the future, the latter 
 closely approach to the characteristics of the former ; and 
 yet a little internal examination will detect a distinction 
 between them, which is marked and lasting. 
 
 (2) We may not only consult our own consciousness 
 in this matter, but may derive information from a notice 
 of the outward conduct of men. In speaking of men's 
 conduct, we not unfrequently make a distinction ; and we 
 attribute it sometimes to the mere influence of their de- 
 sires or wishes, and at other times to the predominance of 
 a sense of duty, which is only another name for a senti- 
 ment or impulse within, which is morally obligatory. 
 But there would evidently be no propriety in this distinc- 
 tion, if desire and feelings of duty were the same thing ; 
 and it would certainly be premature and unjust to charge 
 men with universally making such a distinction, when 
 there are no grounds for it. 
 
 §. 453. Further considerations on this subject. 
 
 (3) If there is not a fixed, permanent, and radical dis- 
 tinction between desires and feelings of obligation, then 
 there is an utter failure of any basis of morality, either in 
 fact or in theory. It will readily be conceded, that mor- 
 ality implies a will, a power of choice and determination. 
 But the conscience does not reach the Will directly. 
 Those emotions of moral approval or disapproval, 
 which are properly ascribed to Conscience, operate 
 on the will through feelings of obligation ; that is, 
 they are always succeeded by the latter feelings, before 
 men are led to action. All other emotions operate through 
 the Desires. So that the will,4in making up its determina- 
 tions, takes immediate cognizance of only two classes of 
 mental states, viz. Desires and Feelings of obligation. 
 But brute animals have all the desires, that men have ; we 
 
588 NATURE OF OBLIGATORY FEELINGS. 
 
 mea^ all those modifications of feeling, which have been 
 classed under that general head, viz. instincts, appetites, 
 propensities, the varioui* forms of affection, as hatred, love, 
 the parental affection, &c. But still, being evidently des- 
 titute of all feelings of obligation, we never speak or think 
 of them as possessing a moral character. We never ap- 
 plaud them for doing their duty, nor punish them for 
 neglecting its performance. Our treatment of them pro- 
 ceeds on altogether different principles. And it w^ould be 
 the same with men, if they were wholly destitute of feelings 
 of moral obligation, and had no motives of action but the 
 various forms of desire. They could never, in that case, 
 be considered morally accountable. They would be 
 without reward, when they w^nt right ; and without re-, 
 buke, when they went wrong. 
 
CHAPTER SECOND. 
 
 ORIGIN OF FEELINGS OF OBLIGATION. 
 
 §. 454. Feelings of obligation not Jounded primarily on law 
 or command. 
 
 • 
 In what has been said so far, we have attempted to es- 
 tablish, in the first place, that there is such a thing as the 
 feeling of obligation ; and in the second place, to show, 
 so far as it can be done by words, what its nature is. 
 Another inquiry proposes itself, viz, What is the origin or 
 foundation of the feeling of obligation ? What is its ba- 
 sis ? On w^hat occasion does it necessarily arise? 
 
 In pursuing this inquiry, the first remark- to be made 
 is, that the feeling of obligation is not founded primarily 
 and originally on Law ; that is, on any thing commanded 
 or ordered. In other words, the mere direction or'or- 
 dering by any Being, however powerful he may be, does 
 not of itself constitute right, and of course does not neces- 
 sarily furnish a basis for the feeling of obligation, on 
 the part of those, to whom such direction or order is giv- 
 en. Men live constantly under the operation and influ- 
 ence of law in some shape or other ; and of law too, 
 which is effective and irresistible. But does any one feel, 
 or any one suppose, that law and right are necessarily 
 synonymous -^ Take the simplest possible case. The 
 commands of parents are a law to children and 
 youth ; but in some cases undoubtedly these children and 
 
590 ORIGIN OF FEELINGS OF OBLIGATION. 
 
 youth feel with very good reason, that the commands of 
 their parents are not right but wrong, and when they obey 
 under such circumstances, they do it, not from a convic- 
 tion of obligation or duty, but from an apprehension of 
 the consequences of disobedience. 
 
 Again, the laws of the land are a rule of action; the 
 subjects of a civil government do not ordinarily deem it 
 expedient to resist them ; and yet how often in conversa- 
 tion they pronounce one law to be just, & another unjust, 
 one to be right, and another to be wrong. A man 
 would be considered exceedingly and even foolishly char- 
 itable, who should pronounce every enactment of the ci- 
 vil government just and righteous, merely because it hap- 
 pened to be an enactment, a peremptory order, or law. 
 If the mere power to command and control necessarily 
 lays a foundation of the obligation to obey, it would be 
 impossible to justify resistance to any civil government, 
 however tyrannical and cruel it might be. 
 
 And we might extend these views, (and we would hope 
 without incurring the charge of irreverence^) even to the 
 Divine Law. While w^e most readily admit, that the Di- 
 vine Law is perfectly right and good, we do not hesitate 
 to deny, that this moral perfection is based on the mere 
 fact, that the Divine Law proceeds from a being, who 
 commands what he pleases, and can enforce his com- 
 mands. It certainly cannot require much reflection to 
 understand the inadmissibility of such a view. It is ad- 
 mitted, that God is just and right in his commands, but 
 if his character should change and he should 'become 
 fierce and cruel, the mere fact of his commanding a cruel 
 action could never secure a cheerful obedience from men, 
 while they remain the same as at present. There would 
 evidently be a violent opposition and conflict between his 
 commands and the suggestions of our moral nature. To- 
 day God coinmands us to relieve the poor and sujffering, 
 and we feel it to be right ; to-morrow he changes his 
 character, and commands us to afllict the afflicted, and 
 to pluck the bread from the hungry ; but if man felt the 
 moral correctness of the other, as he would do,, he could 
 
ORIGIN OF FEELINGS OF OBLIGAiTlON. 59.1 
 
 not possibly feel the moral correctness of this. The latter 
 command, though enforced with almighty power, could 
 not fail to look dark, cloudy, and diabolical. Although 
 it should be asserted with due reverence and caution, it is 
 undoubtedly the fact that the mind of man may sit in judg- 
 ment, not only on himself and his fellow men, but on his 
 Creator also. God himself,who formed the human mind, 
 has decided and chosen, that men should have this power. 
 And in proof of what has been said, how often does that 
 olorious Beinor appeal to men in his own Scriptures and 
 invite them to sit in judgment on his own doings ! " Oh, 
 my people, what have I done unto thee ? And wherein 
 have I wearied thee ? testify against me." '^ Come now, 
 and let us reason together, saith the Lord" Such is the 
 language, in which the most exalted of beings condescends 
 to address the children of men. And again He says in a 
 tone of authority and rebuke, " Yet ye say, the way of 
 the Lord is noi equal. Hear now, Oh house of Israel, is 
 not my way equal ? Are not your w^ays unequal : "'^ 
 He then goes on to state the great principles of his moral 
 government, his punishment of the wicked and his pres- 
 ervation of the righteous, and appeals to them as judges, 
 whether he is not just. Such language evidently ap- 
 pears to be unmeaning, unless we suppose there is in man 
 a power of judgment, a susceptibility of moral emotions and 
 of feelings of obligation. It is an important consideration, 
 that these powers are thus solemnly recognized by God 
 himself,' who is the author of them. He has not only ap- 
 pealed to their decisions in the present life ; but on a 
 more solemn occasion yet to come, at the last great day, 
 the sentence will be passed by every cleL'nquent himself, 
 and he will stand condemned by his own conscience. 
 
 §. 455. Further illuslrations oj the same subject. 
 
 We may perhaps receive some little illustration of this 
 subject from the case of the Atheist. The doctrine, which 
 we are controveiting, is simply this, — the foimdation of 
 feelings of moral obligation is command or law ; and as 
 
 * Ezekiel 18th, 29. Micah 6th, 3. Isaiah 1st, 18. 
 
592 
 
 ORIGIN OF FEELINGS OF OBLIGATION. 
 
 the will of God is paramount to all other command or 
 law, we are to look to that will for the ultimate ground 
 and source of the sentiment of obligation — But do we not 
 find a difficulty here in this fact, that the atheist, who 
 knows no God, and of course no will of God, still has 
 the sentiment or feeling of duty, as well as other men. 
 It would be essentially unjust and false, to assert, that the 
 atheist is destitute of conscience, or exempt from moral 
 obligation. On the contrary he feels himself, in a multi- 
 tude of instances, to be morally bound, as we may clearly 
 learn both from his own acknowledgements and from his 
 conduct, which evinces, that he is often subject to a mo- 
 ral control. It is true, that he has contrived, by a per- 
 version of intellect, virtually to banish God from his own 
 Creation, where his existence and glories are so clearly 
 displayed; but he has not been able, by any contrivance oi' 
 effort whatever, to destroy in his own bosom the senti- 
 ments of right and wrong, and amiul the immutability of 
 moral distinctions. 
 
 §. 453. Moral obligaiion not dependent on the results of 
 actions. 
 
 Again, the source of moral obligation is not founded in 
 a perception of the good or evil results of actions. — There 
 is no doubt of its being a common doctrine, that whatever 
 action is attended with ultimate happiness is right ; and 
 that whatever action is attended with ultimate evil 
 or misery, is wrong. That this may be the fact is not de- 
 nied. On the contrary, it is undoubtedly true, that there 
 is an estal3lished and unshaken coincidence between right 
 and happiness, between wrong and misery. Nevertheless 
 it is not true, that the sense of obligation is founded neces- 
 sarily on the antecedent perception of such coincidence. 
 A few remarks will help to show this. 
 
 (1) The human mind is so limited in its range, that it 
 cannot easily estimate all the consequences of actions, and 
 is liable to constant mistakes whenever it makes the at- 
 tempt. The process would often prove along and perplex- 
 ing one, when perhaps, in many cases, a prompt and im- 
 
ORIGIN OF FEELINGS OF OBLIGATION. 593 
 
 mediate decision would be requisite. (2) This doctrine 
 
 is not exteiisive enough, as it would not embrace and lay 
 the foundation of moral conduct in all classes of men. 
 There are some men, who do not believe in a fu- 
 ture state ; and there are thousands and hundreds 
 of thousands, including those who live in heathen as 
 well as in Christian lands, who, if they believe in a 
 future existence, do not believe in a future retribution. 
 Of course, if, injudgingof the morality of actions, they are 
 governed solely by their good or evil results, their rule of 
 right must be the good or happiness of the present state 
 of being ; and they themselves must be the judges of what 
 this happiness consists in. Their rule of action, therefore, 
 necessarily resolves itself into the expediencies of this short 
 life. But it must be very evident, that the injfluence of 
 such a system would be evil beyond expression. It would 
 soon involve the whole world in iniquity, confusion, and 
 turmoil. And how unreasonable it is to suppose, since it 
 is allowed, that no man is exempt from the discharge of his 
 duty, that God should have made such feeble and defec- 
 tive provision for impulses and obligations of a moral 
 nature. 
 
 (3) Good and evil results of actions may be regarded 
 in the light of rewards and punishments. But certainly it 
 seems evident, that rewards and punishments, so far from 
 constituting obligation, presuppose it as already existing. 
 " Rewards and punishments, says an able and cautious wri- 
 ter, suppose in the very idea of them, moral obligation, 
 and are founded upon it. They do not make it, but en- 
 force it, or furnish additional motives to comply with it. 
 They are the sanctions of virtue, and not its efficients. 
 A reward supposes something done to deserve it, or a con- 
 formity to obligations subsisting previously to it ; and punish- 
 ment is always inflicted on account of some breach of ob- 
 ligation. Were we under no obligations, antecedently 
 to the proposal of rewards and punishments, and inde- 
 pendently of them, it would be very absurd to propose 
 75 
 
694 
 
 ORIGIN OF FEELINGS OF OBLIGATION. 
 
 them, and a contradiction to suppose us subjects capable 
 of them." * 
 
 §. 457. Feelings of obligation founded en the acts of the con- 
 science . 
 
 In view, therefore, of what has been said, we come to 
 the conclusion, that the feelings of obligation, as no other 
 basis of them is discoverable, are founded on the dictates 
 of an enlightened coNsciENCE ; and that they iind their 
 origin no where else. In other words.in the economy of the 
 mind, the emotions of approval and disapproval, which are 
 appropriately attributed to the conscience, precede, and lay 
 the foundation of feelings of a morally obligatory nature. 
 And as the constitution of the mind lays itself open in 
 this respect, we cannot fail to see how perfect and admi- 
 rable it is. The senses furnish knowledge, in the iirst in- 
 stance ; then the reasoning power is brought into action; 
 moral emotions arise in view of the various objects, that 
 are brought before the contemplation of the intellect ; 
 and these last, occupying a high and sacred place in the inte- 
 riour of our nature, are followed by feelings of obligation, 
 which, finding a still more elevated position in the sanctua- 
 ry of the mind, constitute the noblest and often the most effi- 
 cacious motive,that can be presented to the human volition. 
 What a combination of powers, operating harmoniously 
 in their support and guidance of each other ; and secur- 
 ing the intelligence, freedom, accountability, and virtue of 
 man! And with what propriety can the doctrine of 
 Scripture be asserted and enforced, that man, by means 
 of the principles of his own constitution, is a law to him- 
 self ; being fully furnished, by the operation of his various 
 susceptibilities, vv^ith the grounds of approval & disappro- 
 val, of condemnation and acquital, of degradation and 
 glory ! 
 
 * Price's Review of Questions in Morals, 2d Lond. Ed. p, 178. 
 
CHAPTER THIRD. 
 
 NATURE OF RIGHT OR VIRTUE. 
 
 §. 458, Origin of ideas of right and wrong. 
 
 Having emotions of moral approval and disapproval, 
 and feelings of obligation following from them, a founda- 
 tion is therebv laid for the oriorin of those abstract con- 
 ceptions or ideas, which are denominated right and 
 wrong ; and are otherwise expressed by such terms as rec- 
 titude and guilt, virtue and vice. It is hardly necessary 
 to sugo:est, that these abstract ideas do not in themselves' 
 involve any thing like emotion, or desire, or any other 
 modification of mere sensibility. The notions, which 
 men form of right and its opposite, are purely intellectual; 
 they are the creations of the Understanding ; and are en- 
 tirely different from any sentient states of the mind, al- 
 though there is a close connection in this particular, that 
 the various moral feelino^s furnish the occasions of their 
 existence. More properly belonging to the kead than the 
 heart, to the Intellect than the Sensibility, they are intro- 
 duced here, merely in consequence of this close and essen- 
 tial connection. Although they are properly regarded 
 as the spontaneous and original creations of the intellect, 
 in the exercise of its power of Suggestion, it is very ob- 
 vious, that they never could have existed, independently 
 of the antecedent existence of moral emotions and feelings 
 of obligation. 
 
596 
 
 NATURE OF EIGHT OR VIRTUE. 
 
 How is it possible, that a being, who has never experi- 
 enced in himself any moral approbation or disapprobation 
 of the conduct of others, and has never felt the impulse 
 of amoral obligation regulating his own conduct, should 
 know any thing of virtue? That high idea, which 
 seems placed in the midst of the mind's choicest thoughts 
 as a luminous point of attraction and guidance, must 
 be altogether beyond his reach. It is the emotions and 
 dictates of conscience, therefore, and the kindred feelings 
 of obligation, which lay a broad and deep foundation for 
 the notions of rectitude and iniquity, virtue and vice; 
 and it may be added, that no man living is without them. 
 If it be true,as it undoubtedly is, that they are the sponta- 
 neous and primitive creations of the understanding or intel- 
 lectual constitution of man, like the notions of existence, 
 identity, duration, intelligence, design, power, &c, it is 
 equally clear, that the foundation or occasion of them is 
 to be sought in our sentient nature. And this circum- 
 stance will sufficiently explain, why the examination of 
 them was not attempted in a former part of the work, but 
 was deferred till the present time. 
 
 §.459. Of the nature of these ideas. 
 
 The ideas of right and wrong, (what we otherwise ex- 
 press by the terms virtue and vice,) are simple, and like 
 all other simple ideas are undeiinable. It is true that va- 
 rious attempts at a definition have been made^ but it is no 
 exaggeration to say, that they neither silence inquiry, nor 
 give satisfaction. But we are not necessarily ignorant of 
 their nature, because that nature is not susceptible of being 
 made knowA by a mere verbal expression. We have the 
 same methods of ascertaining that nature, as we have in 
 a multitude of other analogous cases ; the appeal to inter- 
 nal examination, the inward feeling, the testimony of con- 
 sciousness. If a man knows what red or white is; what 
 sweet or sour or bitter is ; what power or benevolence 
 or intelligence or hope or sorrow is ; he may possess a 
 knowledge in the same way, and in the same degree, of 
 
NATURE OF RIGHT OR VIRTUE. 597 
 
 what right or wrong is. They stand essentially upon the 
 same footing ; beyond definition, but still fully ascertain- 
 ed by each one's own experience and consciousness. 
 
 §. 460. Of the immutable distinction between them. 
 
 If we have the ideas of right and wrong,and these ideas 
 are simple, then right and wrong exist. The human mind, 
 in its unbiassed action, and especially in the product of 
 elementary and fundamental truths, may be fully relied 
 on. Simple and elementary ideas are never chimerical; 
 they always have their counterpart; that is to say, some- 
 thing really corresponding to them. There is as much 
 evidence of the existence of right and wrong, as there is 
 of the reality of benevolence, truth, wisdom, or goodness. 
 The mind itself ascertains the nature, and proves the exis- 
 tence in all these cases. 
 
 Ascertaining in this way the reality of right and wrong, 
 or what we conceive to be the same thing, of virtue and 
 vice, we are now prepared to assert, that there is a fixed 
 and immutable difference between them. As the mind, 
 which originates these notions, assigns to each a distinc- 
 tive character, it necessarily recognizes and establish- 
 es the fact of this difference. For if there is a differ- 
 ence in the mental conceptions, and those conceptions 
 are not falsities, then there is necessarily a differ- 
 ence in the things or objects themselves, of which the 
 conceptions are representative. If it be certain, that 
 there can be no simple ideas, without something corres- 
 ponding to them, it is equally certain, that they are not 
 interchangeable. Whatever we perceive or feel to ex- 
 ist, which is elementary and simple, we never can per- 
 ceive or feel to exist otherwise than it is. Accordingly if 
 we perceite objects to be different from each other at the 
 present time, we never can conceive^ while that difference 
 remains, of their being identical. 
 
 A change in what is simple is either by diminution, 
 which is necessarily a blotting out or annihilation of the 
 thing itself ; or by combination, which either, on the one 
 
598 T^fATURE OF FdGHT OR VIRTUE. 
 
 hand, results in some new object, or on the other, leaves 
 the elementary parts the same as ever. If then the ideas 
 of right and wrong have an original and distinctive char- 
 acter and are simple, is it possible that we should conceive 
 of their being identified, any more than we can conceive 
 of the identity of red and white, of bitter and sweet, of a 
 square and a circle^ of a triangle and a hexagon, or of 
 any other things in nature, which have permanent and 
 distinctive traits. It is with confidence, therefore, that 
 we assert the immutability of moral distinctions, the 
 difference between moral right and wrong, virtue and 
 vice, rectitude and crime. It is not possible for the hu- 
 man mind to form a conception of the opposite ; that is to 
 say, the identification or interchange of their nature. 
 Whatever, therefore, is right to-day, is right to-morrow, 
 next day, next year, and forever ; and whatever is wa'ong, 
 continues to be so through all time and all eternity. 
 
 §. 461. Views of Dr. Price on the immutability of moral dis- 
 tinctions. 
 
 "Right and wrong, (says a learned writer, whom we 
 have already had occasipn io refer to,) denote what 
 actions are. Now whatever any thing is, that it is 
 not by will, or decree, or power, but by nature and necessi- 
 ty. Whatever a triangle or circle is, that it is unchangea- 
 bly and eternally. It depends upon no will or power,wheth- 
 er the three angles of a triangle and two right ones shall 
 be equal ; v/hether the periphery of a circle and its diame- 
 ter shall be incommensurable ; or whether matter shall be 
 divisible, moveable, passive, and inert. Every object of the 
 understanding has an indivisible and invariable essence ; 
 from whence arise its properties, and numberless truths 
 concerning it. And the command, which Omnipotence 
 has over things, is not to alter their abstract natures, or 
 to destroy necessary truth ; for this is contradictory, and 
 would infer the destruction of all reason, wisdom, and 
 knowledge. But the true idea of Omnipotence is an ab- 
 solute command over all particular., external existences, to 
 create or destroy them, or produce any possible changes 
 
NATURE OF RIGHT OR VIRTUE. ^99 
 
 among them. The natures of things then being immu- 
 table, whatever we suppose the natures of actions to be, 
 that^hey must be immutably. If they are indifferent, 
 this indifference is itself immutable, and there neither is 
 nor can be any one thing that, in reality, we ought to 
 do rather than another. The same is to be said of right 
 and wrong, moral good and evil, as far as they express 
 real characters o£ actions . They must immutably, and ne- 
 cessarily, belong to those actions, of which ihey are truly 
 affirmed. 
 
 No will, therefore, can render any thing good and ob- 
 ligatory, which was not so antecedently, and from eter- 
 nity ; or any action right, that is not so in itself; meaning 
 by action, here, not the bare external effect produced ; but 
 the ultimate principle or rule of conduct, or the determi- 
 nation of a reasonable being, considered as accompanied 
 with and arising from the perception of some motives 
 and reasons, and intended for some end." * 
 
 §. 462. Further Hluslratlcits of the same subject. 
 
 ■ Another valuable writer of our own country expresses 
 his views, , on this important subject, as follows, f 
 
 "The rectitude of actions does not depend on their pro- 
 ceeding from one being or another ; but on their coinci- 
 dence with the immutable principles of virtue. Almost 
 all men think, with good reason, that they speak honour- 
 ably of the Supreme Being, when they say, that all his 
 measures are taken because they are right. Now this 
 language implies, that there is, independent of all will, 
 such a thino^ as rio^ht and wrong. If I sav of the vernal 
 forest, it is green, or of the sun, it is lummous.j I assert noth-. 
 ing, unless I affix some ideas to those epithets. 
 
 The immutable principles of morality necessarily result, 
 we believe, from the nature of things, and from the rela- 
 tion, which they have one to another. As God is the au- 
 thor of all things, the relation, subsisting between them, 
 may be considered as depending on Him. But 
 
 * Price's Review of Moral Questions, p. 37. f President 
 Appleton's Addresses, p. 103. 
 
600 
 
 NATURE OF RIGHT OR VIRTUE, 
 
 while objects continue, in all respects, as they are, 
 no change can be produced in their relations. A fig- 
 ure, which is now a square, may be turned into a circle. 
 But while it continues a square, it must have the relations 
 of such a figure. Now, it is just as absurd to ascribe to 
 Deity the power of changing vice into virtue, or virtue 
 into vice, as to speak of his giving to a globe, so continu- 
 ing, the properties and relations of a cu'je ; or to speak 
 of hi« making a whole, which is less than the sum of all 
 its parts." 
 
 §. 463. RiglUand wrong involve a standard or rule of action. 
 
 It follows, therefore, that the doctrine of eternal and 
 necessary right and wrong, virtue and vice, involves the 
 ultimate and paramount rule of human actions. If there is 
 such a thing as immutable right, it is impossible, that the 
 character of human actions should be indifferent. There 
 is a law held over them, expansive as creation, and last- 
 ing as eternity. It is not an object of the senses, but of 
 the mind. ^We cannot see it, nor touch it ; we cannot de- 
 fine its shape, nor designate its locality. And thus it is 
 like the Deity himself, present but invisible ; silent but al- 
 ways operative; emanating from the centre of the universe, 
 but pervading its utmost limits. But shall we say, that 
 we grope about in darkness, and cannot find it ? It is 
 not so. The feeling of obligation tells us when and where 
 to approach it ; and conscience, the vicegerent of the Dei- 
 ty in the heart, blesses every coincidence with its smile,and 
 reproves every delinquency with its frown. Let us never 
 imagine, that the law of rectitude, that the authority of 
 virtue is a great way off, because we cannot behold it. The 
 air we breathe is not more diffusive, and not more pres- 
 ent. The powerful language of Scripture will apply here. 
 " Say not in thine heart, who shall ascend into heaven, to 
 bring it down from above, or who shall descend into the 
 deep to bririgit up from the dead ; the word is nigh thee, 
 even in thy mouth, and in thy heart." 
 
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