;"£;„ ; ' Book ^ C0JEKRIGET DEPOSIT. CONCRETE PSYCHOLOGY. AN INDUCTIVE INVESTIGATION OF tl, FOR NORMAL SCHOOLS, HIGH SCHOOLS, READING CIRCLES, AND COLLEGES. BY REV, CHAS, CysOYMR, A.M., PROFESSOR OF PEDAGOGY AND PSYCHOLOGY IN THE KEYSTONE STATE NORMAL I SCHOOL. AUTHOR OF A PRACTICAL CONSPECTUS ON m, RHETORICAL STYLE AND INVENTION. if ' KUTZTOWN, PA. : JOURNAL AND PATRIOT PRINTING HOUSE, 1890. \-i^ <2>fe Copyright secured r8g BY CHAS. C. BOYER. Pref OjOC Origin of the Book. — The present volame is not the product of a rage for book-making. Text hooks on ahnost any subject are so nu- merous that he who imagines he can write a book filled with new ma- terial or with dis-ioveries that should eclipse other authors, will find jliimself sadly deluded. I have written this treatise under the pressure of honest conviction — I have written it becau.se I believe it to be my duty. Text books on psychology are quite numerous ; but most of them are abstract and heavy, adapted rather to Colleges than to ISTormal Schools and practical life. A treatise on psychology for pedagogical and practical purposes should be rather a systematic exposition than a cyclopedic presentation of ancient and modern doctrines. A Normal School psychology should aim at culture and scholarship directly applicable to interpreta- tions of pedagogical and practical situations . Normal School text books should not be merely a reference book, a compiL ion of diverse doctrines ; but a sj^stematic development adapted to the grasp of ordinary Senior class wort. . Surely we need a book on psychology adapted at least in a measure to sound principles of education. It is a favorite doctrine of pedagogy that a school recitation has three distinct missions to perform. These missions are test, drill and instruction. If the fundamental aims of education are culture and scholarship, a school recitation must have the three enumerated missions. A recitation in psychology requires preparation with a text book that is based upon the three missions of a recitation. The ordinary treatise on psychology is not adapted to these requirements. The present volume is adapted to a Normal School recitation in at least eight or ten ways. 1. The Psychological Framework is a continuous anah'sis de- signed to aid the student in grasping the predominant text items. IV pre:face;. 2. Over fourteen hundred tent topics are required to be answered directly from the text and its suggestions. 3. About three hundred propositions, a nut-shell summary of psy- chology, are to be committed and analyzed by students. 4. The treatise is an inductive development based largely upon concrete illustrations. 5. These features of the book, it will be seen, adapt it to Normal School work and put the student into a proper way of helping him- self A constant effort to compare consciousness with the text is thus aimed at. The system should make original thinkers. "While con- crete induction is the prominent feature, the book does not hesitate to depart from induction when logical analysis confirms an inductive in- ference. 6. I have also tried to adapt the treatise to the science and art of teaching. Of all professions that of teaching is based the most upon a correct psychological training. In accordance with this fact, the treatise constantly keeps the school room and the teacher in view. Methods of cultivating all the powers of the mind are indicated and often dcA'eloped. 7. When a book is not written for elementary training, the author may select a favorite topic and develop it to the exclusion of related topics ; but a school book must bo comprehensive and impartial. Assuming that the mind is a threefold energy and that education should recognize this three-fold energy and develop it in balanced pro- portion, impartial emphasis is placed upon Intellect, Sensibilit}'' and Will. No topic is developed at the -expense of the other. 8. In view of questions that arise from the mind of meditative stu- dents in psychology, a short treatise has been added on peculiar phe- nomena and animal mind. It is hoped that the above adaptation will make the book a friend to all readers. Lanquage and Style. — It was stated that the text is an easy an- alysis of concrete phenomena. These phenomena are analyzed in lan- guage simple and easy enough for all students who have a sufficient training to take up the study of psychology. While an effort was made to keep an easy style, topics were not passed over when they required the most abstract development. The volume is thus intended to meet the wants of College students. The book may be covered in about sixteen weeks. Preparation and Kecitation. — Students are to be required to use the continuous analysis in the Psychological Framework ; to mas- ter the test questions belonging to a lesson ; to commit and analyze PREFACE. V the propositions ; to analyze the concreta illustrations of the text ; and to compare text conclusions with their own consciousness. The reclfafion is to include a test on committed propositions ; a test on analysis; a test on individual topics; a drill on points not accu- rately recited ; and instruction additional to the text. The proposi- tions will summarize and hold psychologic reading until the mind has had time for assimilative reflection. The recitation should be topicj^l and written when possible. Philosophical iSTANDroiNT.^ — The present volume is not the pro- duct of materialism, nor is it the product of extreme rationalism. From the dual organization of body and mind, we must infer a reciprocal relati(>n between body and mind. We must stand on this ground that the mind animates the body and that the body is in every instance the servant of the mind. The recent conclusions of correct physiology are not slighted ; but it is ever remembered that physiological functions are simply handmaids of a spiritual and immortal mind. Such a belief as psychopannychism or absolute automatism can never find a place in this middle stand point. The treatise is also in full conformity with the doctrines and morals of revealed religion. Science must ever be ennobled by revelation. Dedication — The present volume is humbly dedicated to the cause of thorough culture and scholarship ; to the students and teachers of our country, especially to the Senior classes of our State Normal Schools; and to God, the loving Father of student and teacher. CHAS. C. BOYEPv. Psyc"^ri;oloq{coA cJVame-^//or"k:. PRBFACn^ Introduction. Scientific vs. Common Knowledge. Psychologic Induction and its Moods. Doubt and Faith. Guidance and Keflection. Manifold Importance of a Course in Psycholog}''. The Nature and Existence of Mind. Basis for Scientific Classification. Power V3. Capacity. The Distinction is Essential. A Mental Faculty. Four Characteristics of a Distinct Faculty. The Grand Faculties of the Intellect. Functions and Faculties of the Intellect. Sense Presentation. Unmodified Representation. Ideal Combination and Ideal Creation. Direct Comparison, Abstraction, Generalization, etc. Mediate Comparison. Original Conception. Five Sources of Information. The Fundamental Power of Human Mind, CONSCIOUSNESS. CHARACTERIZATION. A Presentative Power. 2 PSYCHOT. OGICAL FRAMBWORK Its Function. Its Product. Introspection vs. Perception. Relation to Attention. DEVELOPMENT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. Inter-relation of Sensation and Consciousness. Child-mind Consciousness. Pre-consciousness Self-consciousness. Peculiar Consciousness. Sub-consciousness. Abnormal Consciousness. Natural Consciousness. Philosophic Consciousness. DOMAIN OF CONSCIOUSNESS. Cognition of Mental Acts. Cognition of Mental Products. Cognition of Self. Cognition of Objective Occasions. CULTIVATION OP CONSCIOUSNESS. ANOTHER THEORY OF CONCTOUSNESS. Mental Mtnphasis. ATTENTION. The Nature of Attention. Alwaj^s Voluntary. Distinct from Interest Psychological and Practical Value. Two- fold Operation. Automatic Action. Centralization and Transfer. PART FIRST.— INTELLBCT. Perception, Nature of Perception. PSYCHOLOGICAL FRA:\IE\VOKK The Physical Medium. It is a Facult}'.^ The Four-link Perceptive Process. Percept Cognitions. Five Conditions for Perception. Percept Knowledge. Of External Existences. Of Objective and Subjective Qualitio?!. Threefold Classification of Qualities. Derivation and Enumeration of Qualities. Five Special Senses. Absolute Importance. Adaption to External Kelations. Reciprocal Relation of Body and Mind. Cranial Medium. Temperament and Physiognomy. The Sensorium and Consciousness. Sense Information from Each Sense. Corrective Percepts and Reliability. Psychological and Practical Value of Percepts. Cultivation of Perception. Memory. Representation of Past Events. Three-fold Character of Representatiori. Distinction of Products and the Inference. The Nature of Memory. A Power. Three Necessary Functions. Association and Suggestion. Various R'iaflom of Contiguity. Suggestion is the Law of Relation -. Primary and Objective Relations. Secondai-y and Subjective KclaticMis. Enumerations and Illustrations. Retention. Two-fold Nature. Ten Assistant Relations. Mnemonics. I* 4 PSYCHOLOGICAL FRAMEWORK Previous Co-existence and. Memory. Materials for Retention. Equivalents for Soisaf'ioti. Formerly Associated Pi'rcrpfs. Pormerly Associated (i))/rrj>fs. An Immaterial Eeceptacle. Recollection. Two-fold Character. Suggestive Kelations for Kecollcction. Products of Recollection. Vividness and Dimness. Quickness and Slowness. Success of EecoUection. Accuracy and Completeness. Word Painting from Recollection. Disease and Old Age and Favorite Pursuits. Mental Superiority and a Good Memory. Recognition. Re-association. The Ultimate Function. Completeness and Accuracy vs. the Contrary. A Psychological and Practical Linking. Personal Identity and Recognition. Recognition in Old Ago and Beyond the Grave. Recognition of Sorrows. Qualities and Kinds of Memory. Enumeration. Application. Cultivation. Remarkahle Result?. Directions. Imagination, A Power — Its Relations. Imagination and Suggestion. Suggestive Sources for Imagining. Five Sense-apprehensions. Recollections and Recognitions. The Process. — Imagination at Work. Voluntary and Involuntary. PvSYCHOIvOGlCAI. FRAMEWORK. Always Active in its Operation. Reproductive and Productive. Philosophic Imagination. Products. Ideal Combination. Ideal Creations. Drapery. Sense-limitation. Material and Mental Limitation. Missions. Practical. Personal Ideals and Destiny. Depravity. Early Activity and Unhealthy Products. Cultivation. Cautions and the Special Agent. Materials and Methods. Preparatory View of the Understanding. Character and Products. Psychological Mission. Reflection and Elaboration. Synthesis and Analysis. Preparatory and Ultimate Functions. One Common Characteristic. Five Distinctions. Direct Comparison vs. Mediate Comparison. Distinctions. Functions. Materials. • ' Bases. Purposes. Inference. Judgment. General Character. Preparatory and Ultimate Functions. DIRECT COMPARISON. Nature and Domain, The Process and its Basis. Desiirn. PSYCHOI.OGICAI. f^ramkwork:. Preparatory Kelation to Mechanical Classification. Necessity of Proximity and Synthesis. Products. Eelation to Mediate Comparison. ABSTRACTION. Nature and Domain. The Process Described. Kelation to Perception and Other Powers. Analytic Character. Product and its Character. Origin of a Pure Abstract. Ideal or Keal Value. Pure Abstract vs. Abstract Concept. Destiny of Pure Abstracts. Eelation to Generalization and Direct Comparison. GENBRAI^IZATION. Nature and Domain. The Process and its Character. A Concept and its Several-fold Character. Generalization as a Basis for Comparison. Abstract Concepts and Concrete Concepts. Formation of an Abstract Concept. Three-fold Process of detaining an Abstract Concept. Nature and Products of Lower and Higher Generalizations. Character aiul Contents of a Concrete Concept. Derivation and Naming of Concrete Concepts. Content of Concepts. Abstract Concepts have only cotdent. Concrete Concepts have coidrut and ejienf. Science and Language Formation. Formal and Informal Generalization. CI.ASSIFICATION. Nature and Domain. An Ultimate Function. Bases. Process. Results. Mechanical Classification vs. Scientific Cla?sificatioji, History of Classification. Succession of Functions and Judgment. PSYCHOLOGICAL FRAMEWORK. 7 Cultivation of Judgment. Importance. Methods and Directions. Reasoning. Nature and Domain. A Distinct and Yoluntary Power. The Process and Force of Mediate Comparison. Composition of the Syllogism. Construction and Nomenchiture. Propositions Analyzed Quantity and Quality. Opposition and its Formula. Laws and Illustrations of Opposition. Origin of the Laws of Syllogism. Explanation of Four Thought-laws. Many kinds of Syllogisms. Moods and Conversion. Sorites. Application and Value cjf the Syllogism. Uniformity of Nature and Fair Representation. Validity of Syllogisms. Origin of Absolute and Dependent Relations. Enumeration and Elaboration of Syllogistic Relations. Syllogistic Application of Relations. Character of a Necessary Truth. Character of a Contingent Truth. Deductive Reasoning. Two Sources of Material and the Nominalist. Demonstrative Character. Absolute Kelations Involved. An Abstract Domain for Deduction. Illustration of a Necessary Truth Analyzed. Validity of one Demonstration. Theoretically Irresistible Conclusions. Eational Science and Pratical Life. Inductive Reasoning. Perceptive Materials. Illustration of a Contingent Truth Analyzed. The Evidences of a Cumulative Svnthesis. PSYCHOI.OGICAI. FRAMEWORK. A Practical Domain for Induction. . The Process often Pre-supposes Generalization. The Validity of Induction as a Moral Certainty. Empirical Science and Practical Life. Distinctions between Deduction and Induction. Evidences of a Contingent Truth. Experimental Induction. Competent and Incompetent Observers. Sufficient and Insufficient Data. Illustrations of False Inductions. Application to Physics, etc. Induction from Testimony. Nature of Tradition, History, and Legal Evidence. Universal Need for Testimony. Natural and Keasonable Credence. Intention and Motive not always Keliable. Reliable Testimony and Possibility of its Items. Enumeration of ten Marks of Reliable Testimony. Elaboration of ten Marks. Mastery of these Marias. Four Degrees of Certainty in a Conclusion. Induction from Analogy. Nature of Analogy. Analysis of»an Illustration. Narrow Domain and Uncertain Conclusion. Analogy in Language and Physiognomy. Certainty Estimated by Extent. Counter Analogy. Analogy in Defense and Experimentation. Induction from Hypothesis. The Nature of Hypothesis. Illustration of Historical Hypotheses. Origin and Developmeiit of a Hypothesis. Verification and Rejection. Enumeration of Verified and of Rejected Hypotheses. Rejected Hypotheses Have a Practical Value Hypothesis Distinguished from Theory. Cultivation. Importance and Domain. Methods for Induction. P S Y C H C I^ O G I C A I^ F R A M K W O R K . Mothod.i for Deduction. Outline iind Elaboration. Intuition, Preparatory. The Mind's Two Source,^, of Idaas. Occasion Distinguished from Cause. Relation of Perception to Intuition. Existence of Primary Ideas. Distinct Character of Primary Ideas. Origin of Primary Ideas. Suggestion from Sense-occasions. An Active Power to Catch Suggestions. Immediate and Sub-conscious Process. A Semi-voluntar}^ Power. Fundamental Domain. Significance of a Fundamental Powc. Logical and ChronDloglcal Relation to Perception. Remembrance of the Birth of Intuitive Ideas. Relation to Recognitioji (Identity). ■Relation to Imagination (Limitations). Relation to Direct Comparison (Equality). Relation to Abstraction and Generalization. Relation to Reasoning (Axioms). Chronological Relation of Primary Ideas and Truths. Primary Truths. Existence of Primary Truths. Historical Names. Can not be Acquired Truths. Tests of Primary Truths. Self-evidence. Necessity. Simplicity. Universality. Enumeration of Primary Truths. Primar}' Ideas in Detail. SPACE. Nature of Space. Origin of the Idea. Attributes of Space and Geometry, lO PS C HOI.OG I C AIv FRAMKWORK TIME. Nature of Time. Origin of the Idea. Our Measurement of Time. Attributes of Time and Practical Life. IDENTITY. Nature of Identity. Four Species of Identity. Origin of the Idea. Mistaken Identity. Identity the Basis of Life. Proiifcss and Improvemenf. Rpcogidilon and lief rlbuf ion. Science and, Idendiiy. CAUSE. Nature of Cause. PJienoniena and Eoenfs. Not Mere Antecedence. An Effective Anieccdence. Proximity of Cause and Occasion. Classification. Analyzed. Origin of the Idea. Vicinity ami its Sagycstion. Origin of the Notion of Universal Causation. Search after Cause, and Scientific Products. THE AESTHETIC. Classification. Nature of the Beautiful. Three Lines of Explanation Introduced. Four Subjective Theories Criticised. Four Objective Theories Criticised. The Spiritual Theorj^ and its Application. Nature and Theory of the Sublime. Nature and Theory of the Ludicrous. Origin of the Idea of the Aesthetic. Seiise-saggestions. Development of Tasfe. Nature of Taste. Conipariso)! and its Indnifine Standard. P S Y C H O Iv O G I C A I. !• R A M K W O R K . II (rood 2}ixfc and Poo)- Td.str. .1 St(md(i)-d of T((ste. Cult'ii-dfioii of Td.sic. THE MORAL. Nature of the Monil. A (kniqdcx Notion. Test of Moral Theories. Foi>/ Tests ClHiradenzi'd. Four Defective Theories Tested. The Correct Theory of the Moral. Conformity w'ltli Go(Ps Holy Nalare and Mill. Objecthie Character of the JSLoral. Origin of the Idea of the Moral. Six Defective Theories Tested. The Correct Theory of the Origin of the Moral Idea. TJie Moral Idea is a. Prij)tary Idea.. Existence of a Moral Nature and of Conscience. Nature of Co)iscience TJiree Liiuitive (.hynitioiis. Three Direct Cov/jxn-isoiis. Three Moral Decisions. Subsequent Moral Enudions. Mental Formula of Moral Experience. The Authority of Conscience. Sanity and Mature Intelligence. Culture of ttie Intnitlce Cognition. Full Infor/nation. Freedom from Wrong M^stallized linguistic forms. Language is the expression of thought. Kver}^ crystallized linguistic form thus represents a process of mind, an activity of Intellect, Feeling or Will. Very important conclusions sometimes depend on an interpretation of these linguistic forms ; as I am conscious ; I know. B. one jxirbdaTT^eru-tal Power oj }*{"u-n-ia"ru jV\_"i"rud. L CONSCIOUSNESS. 8, Consciousness is the mind's power of introspection. Its func- tion is to cognize mental acts and affections. Preliminary Remarks, — Consciousness is the fun- damental power of the human mind. To it we must appeal for data in our study of the mind . It is therefore imperative to understand the nature of con- sciousness and its evidence. But it is not an easy matter to understand the full domain of consciousness, nor is it easy to trace its development. For years I have held that consciousness could not be a mental faculty. I was honest in the statement of the the- ory and still believe that it accounts for nearly all phenom- ena involved ; but am profoundly convinced that the text- theory will reconcile all powers of the mind in fu7iction and desigji. My former students will find that their mind gives a ready consent to what will be said. I. CHARACTERIZATION. A Power, — Consciousness, like Perception, is a pre- sentative power of the mind. We may say this because C O N vS C I O U vS N E vS s . 35 Consciousness presents to the mind itself a k)iowledge of all distinct internal acts and affections. Perhaps it were better to say that consciousness is the mind presenting to itself an immediate knowledge of its own acts and states. In the moment of any mental act, the mind knows this act. If we think, we knoiv we tliinJi ; if we feel, we knoiv ^efeel ; if we resolve, we knozo we resolve, 8lc. It is to be noted here that consciousness, though often so regarded, is not a passive receptivity. Dr. Hickok re- gards consciousness as a mental illumination. It was a fa- vorite doctrine of the writer of this treatise to call con- sciousness a mental illumination in which each distinct mental act stands revealed as having occurred. While it is possible to state a consistent definition of consciousness as a mental illumhiation , it is perhaps better to abandon this definition, because it implies that consciousness is the result of a mental friction or phosphorescence. This we can not prove by an inductive investigation. Its F'unctioiiS. — As already intimated, it is the func- tion of consciousness to cog7iize mental acts and states. The derivation of the word consciousness from con, with, and scio, I know, points to the proper conception of the function of consciousness. It is a knowing with, a know- ing at the same fnoment in which some mental act takes place. As in perception we may know more or less clearly, more or less distijictly, more or less completely, so in con- sciousness we know^ more or less clearly, distiiictly, com- pletely. These degrees of exact knowing depend upon age, physical condition, mental affection and so forth. The question is sometimes asked, whether the mind is conscious, or cognizes, every mental act, every mental af- fection. It may not be possible to prove this completely ; but from the analogy of consciousness as a knowing poiv- er to the other knowing powers of the mind, we ought to 36 CONSCIOUSNESS. conclude that consciousness cognizes every mental act with a distinctness and completeness corresponding to the energy of the given mental act. We can not always, nor need we, recall a dimly conscious mental act. Its Products, — The product of consciousness is a simple cognition of whatever occurs within the mind's im- mediate horizon. This cognition, especially in natural consciousness, is not at first a knowledge of the qualities of any given mental act, not an understanding of the sigjiif- ica7ice of any given mental affection ; but a simple know- ing that this or that act has occurred in the mind. We must at this point carefully distinguish between the cog- nitions of consciousness and the judgments of the under- standing. The cognition of consciousness is well charac- terized by the words, "I know it." In these three little words we have the world's notion of consciousness. It is true, the infant does not clearly comprehend the rela- tion of "I" and "know" ; but the consciousness of the in- fant mind is an undeveloped consciousness. In a few short months, the "I" notion will connect itself with the "know" notion — consciousness has then' become self-consciousness. As Perception looks upon the external world, so self- con- sciousness now looks upon the internal world — the mind itself. Introspection vs. Perception, — A human being is, by common assent, the complex organization of the 7?iaterial and the i7nmaterial. Consciousness, or introspec- tion, cognizes whatever takes place in the immaterial, spir- itual mind ; perception cognizes immediately and mediate- ly the material, non- spiritual existences with which the mind is associated in the external world. We should be more certain of internal acts and affections than of external things and attributes. Whether this be true, we can not tell without entering into a lengthy discussion. Introspection as the function of consciousness is in most CONSCIOUSNESS. 37 people no more than a statural, almOvSt spontaneous know- ing ; but when in a course of proper mental development we turn in upon our own mind in order to study it, this introspection becomes more than a spontaneous knowing. Introspection differs from perception in that perception has a physical organism with which to perceive. The dis- tinction is one quite easily understood. In the case of perception, the physical organism is required as a medium between mass and mi?id. Relation to Attention, — Consciousness, like other active powers of the mind, is subject to attention. The child-mind consciousness is an almost spontmieous hiowing ; but as the mind matures into strength, con- sciousness becomes an attentive k?iowing of what takes place within the mind. I^ocke seems to have called this attentive consciousness Reflection. We shall resume this topic under Philosophic Consciousness. 2. DEVKlvOPMKNT OF CONSCIOUSNESS. Inter-relation of Sensation and Conscious- ness, — It is certain that the development of early con- sciousness is closely connected with sensation. Indeed, sensation appears to be the physical condition requisite for the activity of consciousness. When there is no sensation, as in a swoon, we say there is unconsciousness. By uncon- sciousness is meant that the mind does not at that moment cognize itself and its affections. The dying man's consciousness ceases to be cognitive in that moment when sensation ceases, — he is no longer con- scious as a psycho- physical being. Child-mind Consciousness, — The little child in his cradle possesses the power of consciousness. Infant consciousness, from what we may infer by analogy, is not a clear or complete knowing of self and its acts or states. Infant consciousness becomes more clear as the power of 38 CONSCIOUSNEvSS . attention comes into activity. The little baby kiiows that it sees something when its eyes rest for a moment on the flickering candle flame. Child- mind consciousness may be described under the convenient terms Pre- consciousness and Self- consciousness. The earliest consciousness of child- life must be so indis- ti?ict that we can hardly imagine what it is like. Certain we are that it is not disti7ict enough to be remembered or to energize the mind into thought. It is utterly impossible to recall our consciousness of cradle years. By and by this indistinct knowing becomes distinct, and the child cognizes an active self. Self- consciousness in its first revelations must be a wondrous thing in the child mind. He has now become an individual , a personal soul, launched upon life's seas. Peculiar Consciousness. — Under this heading we may include Sub-consciousness and A b7i07^mal Co?isciousness. It will not be within our limits to enter at length into these fields of discussion, but sufficient reason warrants ' a brief description of peculiar consciousness. Sub- consciousness denotes a knowing of under-current mental activities, such as dreams, somnambulism, &c. In our daily routine of activity, we seem to be sub-conscious of many items that do not enter into our brightest horizon. The dreamer dreams out a difficult mathematical solution, the student suddenly remembers a forgotten name : how are such things to be explained ? Surely the mind was not altogether unconscious of the mental activity implied in such results, and yet the consciousness was not suf- ficiently distinct to attract attention. We call this indis- tinct knowing Sub- consciousness, because it is like know- ing what goes on under the ordinary consciousness ; but when we have given a 7iame to it and described it, we have said all we can know with anything like certainty. Abnormal Consciousness is the accompaniment of certain CONSCIOUSNESS. 39 abnormal states of the nervous system. By abnormal con- sciousness is therefore meant the consciousness as affected by such things as mania, nervous shock and too early in- trospection. In ma?iia the mind appears to be conscious of its own activity ; but it is not a consciousness which memory can connect with normal consciousness. The maniac is con- scious of his acts as is shown by his cunning conduct. A nervous shock seems to interrupt the inter-relation of the nervous organism and consciousness. And this inter- ruption disconnects some or all past experiences so that the person can not even recall his own name, or the profes- sion in which he has labored. When the nerve- pressure caused by a fall from some ele- vation, can be removed, consciousness again becomes nor- mal, and the person may recall the very circumstances of the fall. These phenomena indicate the close relation of body and mind, and especially the inter-relation of nerves and consciousness. Morbid consciousness is the result of too eager or too early self- inspection. This form of abnormal consciousness is often found in children of retired habits. lycft to them- selves a great deal, they learn to look inward long before their mental development warrants a neglect of outward looking. This is a form of consciousness that should be detected and cured. Vain persons, sensitive poetic persons, hypo-chondriacs and others also fall into this abnormal consciousness. So often is this noticed that language has denoted it by say- ing 'he is too self-conscious.' This form of abnormal consciousness may be cured by any course that keeps the person from gazing upon self. A vigorous exercise oi perception will often divert the morbid, self-conscious man from looking too much at his own man- ners, dress, words, feelings, &c. 40 CONSCIOUSNESS. A morbid self- consciousness may lead to melancholy and even to insanity. Natural Consciousness, — The universal power of the mind to know its own acts and affections is known as Natural, or Primary Consciousness. This is a spontane- ous and necessary knowing of one's own mind. Natural consciousness does not concern itself with occult compari- sons and relations ; it does not concern itself with causes and laws so much as with the simple acts and states of mind. But as the mind matures, this natural consciousness also matures. It is, therefore, possible to develop natural consciousness into a more reflective, more attentive energy. When this development becomes marked, when it is the result of philosophic habits of reflection, it is known as Philosophic consciousness — the proud prerogative of su- perior minds. Philosophic Consciousness, — As already noticed, philosophic consciousness is the developed form of natural consciousness. It is of great pedagogical importance to develop a philosophic consciousness. For the student in Psychology it is of inestimable value — indeed, it is impos- sible to detect or estimate psychologic evidence unless the student has developed a thoroughly atte?itive and reflective consciousness. 3. DOMAIN OF CONSCIOUSNESS. The cognitions of consciousness are immediate cognitions of present mental acts and affections. Immediate Cognition, — The cognition of conscious- ness is not a notion of ifzference or induction. What the mind knows by consciousness it knows im- mediately rather than mediately. In this respect it differs from memory and the understanding. CONSCIOUSNESS. 41 This is what we should expect. If consciousness is the mind's absolute and final court of appeal ; if self-know- ing is the basis of responsibility and the voucher of per- sonal identity, then consciousness should not be liable to err because of mediate induction. Present Knowledge. — It is the function of con- sciousness to cognize only that which passes over its im- mediate horizon. Consciousness concerns itself only with what is. It knows nothing of what was or will be ; it knows nothing of what may be or might be ; it knows nothing of merely possible ideas and thoughts. Cognition of Mental Acts and States. — It is the function of consciousness to cognize mental acts and affections. The mind is able to perform many species of acts, and it is susceptible of many consequent states. Every act of the mind affects it in some way or other. All these acts the mind knows directly and immediately. We are thus conscious of perceiving, retaining, recall- ing, recognizing, imagining, comparing, rational concep- tion ; of our emotions, affections, and desires ; of deter- mining and executing. Indeed, it is not possible to name any mental act or af- fection of which the mind is not conscious. The cognition of some acts and of some affections is not as distinct, not as complete as that of other acts and af- fections ; but this does not affect the general law. The distinction indicated lies between spontaneous conscious- ness and attentive consciousness. At a dinner party we may notice some change in the appearance of a friend ; but the notice is an inattentive one, and so is the con- sciousness of such a notice. By and by some one else notices the change and speaks of it. We at once recall that we were indistinctly con- scious of the changed appearance. 42 CONSCIOUSNKSS JO. Consciousness cognizes also the products of every mental func- tion. Cognition of Mental Products.. — Every power of the mind has 2^ function to perform. Consciousness cog- nizes not only the functional act, but also the functional product of every power. The mind is thus conscious of ideas gained by perception ; conscious of remembered ideas ; conscious of ideal concepts ; conscious oi judgments and beliefs ; conscious of hopes, fears, joys, sorrows, affec- tions ; conscious of choices, resolutions and the like. Consciousness must be such a necessary and inseparable concomitant of mental acts and their respective products. If this were not true, the mind would be little better off than that of the Brute. Indeed, consciousness is the power that constitutes the fundamental distinction be- tween human mind and animal mind. In the highly de- veloped consciousness the mind knows not only its own acts and the respective products, but it knows also the relations existent between one mental act and others, the relation between one mental product and others. Philo- sophic consciousness cognizes even the occult acts and af- fections of the mind ; cognizes the mental laws and class- ification ; personal identity and human freedom. Cognition of Internal Occasions. — The mind is conscious not only of mental acts and mental products but also of the internal occasion of any given act. Thus when we reason about some thought- relations we are con- scious of the relations upon which we reason. The mind is conscious of the primary ideas and primary truths of deductive reasoning. Sir William Hamilton argues that the mind is also con- scious of ^Ji;^'^ We could not recognize any former conscious experi- ence as our own, unless we constantly identified our per- sonal self with the act remembered. Consciousness con- stantly cognizes self, and this uninterrupted cognition of self is our evidence oi personal identity. The thought be- fore us is one that reaches into Eternity. The infant, as has been stated, does not distinctly and connectedly cognize a self^a^ experiencing mental affections, and for this reason we can not recall our child-notions ; but as soon as the little child begins to say "I" we may be sure that conti?iuous consciousness of the ^^^ has come. From this consciousness the saiie mind can not free itself. The self cognized in any mental act may be more or less attentive to an external occasion. 3 44 CONSCIOUSNESS. Cognition and Sensation, — If sense contact is definite, the mind grasps definite suggestions and performs definite activity. Of this activity the mind will be also defiiiitely coriscious. If several senses are in simultaneous contact with the external world, the sensation produced in the sensorium by one sense may be so much less defi- nite than the sensation of another source that the mind is conscious only of the more definite result of its perceptions. This is what we are ready to expect when we remember the inter-relation of body and mind. The clock on our mantel may tick and tick when we are absorbed in some special work. Two sources of ideas are now open. We hear the ticking and we see the words. But we are more distinctly conscious of one act of sense-perception than of the other. Sometimes we are more conscious of a mental act con- nected with the eye ; sometimes we are more conscious of an idea suggested through the ear. We can readily think of many illustrations. The mani- fold effects upon consciousness in these cases are due to conditions of mind and conditions of body and the nature of objects perceived. T2, Self-consciousness is the final court of appeal in the study of our own mind. Necessary Inference, — If it is the function of con- sciousness to cognize mental acts and affections, mental products, etc., then we must rely upon consciousness as our final court of appeal in the study of our own minds. Consciousness in its reflective development will therefore be the authority to whom student and teacher must go for instruction in Psychology. When we state that testi- mony, observation, memory, and linguistic forms are also CONSCIOUSNESS. 45 aids in studying the acts and products of the mind, we must ever remember that though all these conflict with the evidence of consciousness, our safest plan is to rely upon consciousness. If this deceives us we know nothing ; if attentive con- sciousness wrongly cognizes the mind's activity, then we can neither proven or disprove anything in the science of mind. But in order that consciousness may furnish distinct and complete evidence, we must develop it into thorough philo- sophic consciousness. 4. CULTIVATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS. Spontaneous consciousness may be developed into voluntary consciousness by attentive introspection. Cultivation, — Attentive introspection is almost be- yond the patience or capacity of some minds ; but ordinarily any man may acquire more power in this respect. When we appeal to consciousness, our appeal should be a persis- tent looking in upon the working of ideas and thoughts. Some acts are momentary ; and, for this reason we must look at them again and again. Attentive introspection is more reliable and complete when we have full control of our feelings. Prejudice dare not enter into this introspec- tion. Our introspection should aim to take into view all the fu7ictions of the mind. We should note the birth and de- velopment of notions, thoughts, beliefs ; we should note the workings of the heart-life and of the will. Since Psy- chology is the fundamental basis of correct pedagogj^, it becomes doubly important to watch our own mental work- ings and those of children. 46 CONSCIOUSNESS. 5. ANOTHER VIEW OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 14, STATEMENT. — Consciousness is a mental illumination in which each distinct mental act stands revealed as having occurred. Development, — In this definition consciousness is regarded as a mental light rather than as a mental power. According to the theory, consciousness is not an active cognitive power, but a passive receptivity ; not a volun- tary power capable of cultivation, but an involuntary con- dition capable of intelligent usage by the mind. The theory also excludes the distinctions indicated by the terms spontaneous and voluntary, between natural and philosophic consciousness. In other respects the theory does not practically conflict with the theory of our text. Perhaps as many persons adopt the latter view as adopt the text view. The latter is more commonly that of the popular mind. The phenomena of the mind may be explained intelligi- bly according to either theory ; but I believe that the text exposition is a better statement because it shows the fun- damental relation of consciousness to the other mental powers. 6. TflenioX Smprbcusxs^ I. ATTENTION. 15' Attention is a voluntary centralization of mental activity upon one object of thought. It is not a faculty, but a mental emphasis. Nature of Attention, — At this point we mu.st no- tice the relation of the three grand modes of mental ac- tivity, Intellect, Sensibility and Will, The respective products of these three comprehensive faculties are thoughts, feelings, volitions. The order of mental activity — a necessary and natural order — is thought, feeling, volition. There can be no mental activity unless there be something upon which this activity is exerted. The activity may be directed to this something by an effort of the will, or it may reach that something apart from an effort of the will. When there is activity upon some thought- object, and this activity is emphasized by an effort or impulse of the will, this empha- sis is what we mean by the word attention. Attention is a mental emphasis — ail effort of the will. Our mind, however, is often active upon something though we may not recall an effort of our will to centra- lize the mental act. Is there no attention, no mental em- phasis, no voluntary pressure upon such centralized men- tal activit)^ ? If so, can we find anything like involuntary 48 ATTEJNTION. attention ? Let us see what is revealed by conscious- ness. Attention Always Voluntary, — If we examine some experience, we find mind acting upon something. Perhaps that something is very pleasing to the mind. Then we are interested — may be "all interest." This is sometimes called involuntary attention. Involuntary at- tention is however, merely a name and a very loose name too, for what we mean by ifiterest. What then is interest, and how does it differ from attention ? The mind is active upon something : the order of this activity is thought, feeling and volition. Thought- activity at once results in feeling more or less intense. This feeling is i^ike or dis- lyiKK. If it is lyiKK, then it is what we mean by the word INTEREST. Interest has its beginyiing in thought and its degree of inteyisity in feeling. Interest does not belong to volition — there is nothing like voluntary in- terest. The moment \\\tQ.rQst prompts to voluntary activi- ty, we have attention. Interest and Attention, — Interest hastens volun- tary effort, and prompts to such sudden volition that the mind takes no notice of the voluntary act. In this case the emotional activity is comparatively so intense as to shut out notice of voluntary effort or attention. There seems to be 710 effort of the tvill. If now the mind is to cease its activity upon something proposed, an effort of the will is necessary. If a child is interested in playing with mar- bles, it is quite an effort for the child to give up playing for some duty that mother may propose. In this volun- tary effort we detect the mind's preference or choice with regard to the something in hand. But what is this choice other than voluntary selection, a direction of the mind to one consideration exclusive of others ? We thus see that while interest leads to attention, it is never identical with attention. The question now meets us : can we do noth- ATTENTION. 49 i)ig apart from voluntary effort, or direction,- or pressure, or emphasis ? Mental activity is more definite and accute under attention. Some mental acts become automatic. Automatic Action, — We shall more readily com- prehend the nature of automatic action if we keep in view the doctrine of reflex action. Reflex action may be illustrated by an experiment with ivory balls. An impulse is imparted to the first ball ; this impulse is transmitted through the intermediate balls and re -appears visibly in the rebound of the last ball. In a like manner mental impulse is transmitted through an intermediate series, a medium of nerve fibers, and re-ap- pears in physical activity. Examples of such physical activity are walking, talking, playing on an instrument, etc., etc. If imparted impulse could be so absolutely transferred into nervous organization as to lose it's associ- ation with mind, its origin, we could speak oi absolute au- tomatic activity. This we can not prove. Biit relative automatic action there is. This we know and are able to prove. Action thus transferred into the physical system can be performed with practically no voluntary effort, or, in other words, without any apparent attention. We can, however, not predicate absolute absence of attention even in automatic activity. I^ateron we shall show how much voluntary effort or attention is involved in dreams, insan- ity, disease, somnambulism and brute mind. Mental Value, — Every one knows how much more definite and acute mental activity is under an effort of the will. This attention, this power of voluntary emphasis upon mental activity, is perhaps the criterion of genius, talent, power and success. Attention is a conscious men- 50 ATTENTION. tal function. The function is executed by our voluntary nature ; and, at the moment of executive effort, the mind ivS conscious of it and we can say "I know it." The man who would be a definite and an acute thinker, the man who would not live in a dim haze of mental activity, must cultivate this function of his voluntary power. Un- less we cultivate our power of attention, we shall never be able to concentrate our mental life ; it will be a life of mere impulse or interest. It pays especially the student to acquire the power of almost absolute mental emphasis. Such emphasis, such attention, will make the genuine historian, linguist, naturalist, scientist, mathematician, logician and philosopher. Accuracy and profundity will then characterize our scholarship. Methods of cultivating attention must be based either upon interest or upon con- scious voluntar}^ effort. Any act of attention is an act of mental transfer. This transfer implies a positive effort and a negative effort. Process. — Attention has a positive and a negative phase. The two phases succeed each other as a logical necessity. Duty or interest or prudence or even necessity may prompt the mind to voluntary activity. By this voluntary effort, the mind's activity is transferred from other considerations to a single special consideration. The transfer implies two steps — an effort to remove vol- untary pressure from something, and an effort to exert voluntary pressure upon a chosen single thought -object. The former effort is negative — the latter, positive. It is the latter effort of the will, prompted by reasonable or pleasing motives, that we mean by attention or mental emphasis. Attention might, then, be called a continued or prolonged volition — a volition that centralizes mental A T T K N T T O N . 5 1 activity upon one thought- object. Attention, therefore, involves the activity of our whole mind ; but i.s not com- plete before the effort of our voluntary nature is exerted. Attention involves intellectual apprehension of a possible transfer of mental activity from all other considerations to the one chosen by reflection or prompted by feeling ; it involves feelings of like or dislike ; and finally it involves a volition. The last effort, that of volition, is the chief characteristic of attention. It remains for us to find whether the mind can really attend to one or more thought- objects at the same time. CENTRALIZATION AND TRANSFER. The mind can not really attend to more than one object of thought at the same time, but passes from one object to the other with remarkable rapidity. One Object. — This can be shown b}^ many illustra- tions. We must first clearly distinguish between sense - objects and thought-objects. We may see or hear or feel or smell or taste more than one object at the same time ; the things thus apprehended are objects of sense- apprehen- sion. When we make a7ij object of sense- apprehension the topic for continued and emphasized thought, such ob- ject becomes a thought-object. The mind can not attend to more than one such thought object, nor need it even in reasoning or judging. Illustration. — Let a boy stand at one end of a black board and another boy at the other end of the board. The class can, at the same moment, see both boys at the blackboard. This is a sense-perception. If both boys speak at the same time, 3^ou can hear the two voices. This is a sense-perception. Now try to attend to the ex. planations of both boys at the same moment. This would 3" 52 ATTKNTION. make their explanations not objects oi sight or hearing on- ly, but also objects of thought activity. The solutions are two thought- objects, and we can make only one process an object of our attention. In other words, we can put men- tal emphasis upon only one solution. If one or both solu- tions are familiar to the listener, he may keep pace with both boys, for he need only notice whatever unfamiliar step may be taken by either boy. By practice it is pos- sible to gain such skill in listening to two such explanations as to enable a teacher to attend to both apparently at the same time. He is able to do this, because he has acquired the ability of rapid transfer of mental activity. Such trans- fer involves cultivation of memory and cultivation of our voluntary nature. Practice lies at the basis of this un- usual skill. It may not be worth very much. Another Illustration : The mind can not really attend to more than one object of thought at the same time. We can not pay attention to the four voices of a harmony with anything like distinctness. We may hear four voices; but this is not making the four voices objects of a reflective ex- amination. When we wish to discern clearly the quali- ties, etc., of the voices, we center our discerning process upon 07ie of the four voices and upon one only. The mind may be active upon several objects at the same time ; but such activity is not centralized, focused, emphasized activ- ity. The question here to be decided is whether activity of the mind can be emphasized upon two or more lines of thought. Such is not our common experience, and there is no necessity for it. The mind can pass so rapidly from one subject to another that i7ista?itaneous emphasis upon each transfer of mental activity enables men to perform most remarkable feats of equilibrism or most remarkable executions upon a musical instrument. Nor is there any strength in the claim that such rapidity of attention is impossible in articulate speech. If the physical organ can ATTENTION. 53 perform such rapid feats, then surely the mind in control of the body must be just as rapid a causative antecedent. But the question recurs, are there no cases of mental activity in which we must hold two objects of thought be- fore our mind ? lyCt us propose about the only difQcult case, — the process of comparison, a function of our judg- ment. Must the mind dwell at the same moment upon the two objects compared in order to form a comparison ? Pick up several objects, and do this out of sight of the person to be tested. I^et the class watch the head of the person when he compares the two objects. The observers will notice a rapid transfer of the organs of vision from one object to the other. The transfer of the eye is repeated several times and can be easily detected. This transfer of the eye is caused by an ajitcccdcnt trans- fer in the mental process. In other words, the mind passes from one object to the other with remarkable ra- pidity. In natural philosophy, the experiment of the color-wheel shows a similar result. A rapid revolving of the wheel gives the effect of a single color. A rapid trans- fer of attention has the same effect upon the process of comparison. Both objects seem to be before the mind at the same moment. This same transfer can be noticed when one object is absent, and when its memory-image takes the place in comparison. PART FIRST.— INTELLECT. A. PERCEPTION. 19. Perception is that mental faculty by which we gain a knowledge of the external world through the senses. A previous induction showed that Intellect was presen- tative, representative, reflective and intuitional. It was further found that under these four characters of the In- tellect there were six distinct and voluntary powers. The first of these is Pkrckption. This is the presentative power of the mind. We could not know anj^thing of the world around us, constituted as we are, had God not en- dowed us with se7ise-perception. The Physical Medium, — The mind, however, uses the physical organization of our body as a presenting medium. Our body is endowed with a nervous system. This nervous system, because of its intimate association with mind, is capable of sensation ; it thus becomes a medium of contact with the external world. Just what this intimate association of the mind with the body is, we can not tell ; but we do know that there is such an asso- ciation. We can not say that the mind fills up the bod}' with its own spiritual substance ; but we do know that the mind controls the body, fills it with mental impulses, makes it capable of sensation and makes the bod}^ serve P K R C E P T I O N. 55 the mind. The inductive examination of Perception re- solves itself into several distinct views. The word per- ception may denote three of these views. We may mean by this word the faculty of perception, or the p7vcess of perception, or the product of perception. The word per- ception is derived from two lyatin words, per and capio, to take by means of. It means, then, to take by means of the senses. PERCEPTION AS A FACULTY. The existence of this power is affirmed by consciousness. The possibility of its process has been indicated above. As a power, its function is clearly distinct and voluntarj^ when used in its designed sphere. Far more difficult is it to trace the process involved. The Four-I/ink Perceptive Process. — This topic proposes to us the questions, how^ do we come to know the existence and character of the world round about us ; how do we know our own body as extended ; how^ do we know that there is such a thing as a flower, or tree, or stone ? Several succesive links make up this process. These links are not chronologically, but logically succes- sive. Each antecedent link is causative and each subse- quent link is resultant. Ahe following is an enumeration of the links in the perceptive process : PROCESS OF PERCEPTION. zo. The process of perception is a succession of four logical links ; i. Contact. 2. Sensation. 3. Suggestion. 4. Percept. Sense- Contact, — The bod}^ comes in contact with some object in the external world. There are five sense- gateways or avenues for this contact. We come in con- 56 P B R C K P T I O N . tact with objects through the eye, ear, tongue, nose and the general sense of touch. The contact makes us con- scious of resistance, as when we touch a board. This re- sistance gives us the notion of the outward or external existence of the object touched. Contact of the nervous system results in sensation. Sensation, — Sensation is an affection of the nervous- system. It is the result of contact and is not of the nature of thought. It might be called simple physical feeling. The nervous system animated by mind is the seat of this sensation. A dead man might possess the five organs of sense, a complete system of nerve fibers ; but there could be no sensation in such a body. When the soul has flown, sense apprehension and sensation cease. Yet we cannot say that sensation occurs, strictly speaking, in the mind. Sensation occurs in the body. This body be- comes a medium of suggestion to the mind. That this is true, we know. Why it is true, we do not know. Suggestion. — Sensation in the nervous organization is followed almost instantaneously by an influence upon mind. This influence we shall call suggestion. The mind is provided with a sort of electric alarm system. If anything touches the alarm, the mind is at once ready to look out for a message from the external world. And such a message will come. This message may be called a PE^RCKPT. What then is a percept ? A Percept, — A percept is the mental cognition of the product of a perceptive process. It may be an image or an idea or a notion. Which of these it .shall be depends upon the avenue of perception and upon the object per- ceived. The percept is the last link in the process of per- ception. It is the product of this process. This percept occurs in the mind. It is strictly a mental product and includes several distinct items. What does the mind re- ceive in a percept ? PERCKPTION. 57 ZI. A percept includes the cognition of three things : i. A sensation. 2. Our body. 3. An external object. A Percept and Its Cognitions. — Here are three cognitions corresponding to the notions of what, whkrk and WHY. In this percept the mind is conscious of a sen- sation and intuitively knows this sensation to be in the body. The mind thus becomes conscious of a body — our body. By the location of more than one sensation in dif- ferent parts of the body the mind becomes conscious of the body as extended, as occupying space. It is thus that we learn to know our own body. And as a sequel, the mind demands the cause of the sensation in the body. Thus results the cognition of the something that touches the body. In this way we can learn of the existence of the objects we touch in the external world. Of course, we can touch such object by one of our five senses. If, however, the external object presented no resistance to our nervous organization in the contact, there would be no cognition of that something that caused the sensation. This is easily seen in an ordinary touch. The question presents itself, do we, in a percept, know only the ex- istence of an object or also c^ri^in properties of the exist- ing object? If so, is the cognition of these properties an immediate product or a product of reflective inference ? This question will be discussed under another proposi- tion. We proceed to the conditions necessar}^ for the performance of the function of perception. The function of perception requires : i. A sentient being. 2. Sense organisms. 3. External, sensible objects. 4. Contact. 5. Sensation. Fundamental Conditions, — A skntiknt being is a being capable of perceiving. The angels are .sentient 5^ PKRCKPTION. beings; but they are not endowed with sense- organisms. They can perceive without such organs. Situated and created as we are, ive need such organisms to be sentient beings. We can not perform the functions of perception without using sknsk - organisms. These organs are adapted to our environments and our environments are adapted to our organs. The external world is a sknsibi^K WORLD. All the objects can be brought into contact with our body by sense- apprehension. Created as we are, with these organs, we could have no sensation, were there no external world. Nor could there be sensation without some CONTACT; for the function of perception would not have a starting point. The circuit would not be com- plete. This contact must result in sknsation. As long as soul and body keep together, contact of the tw^o will always result in sensation and this sensation will alw^ays result in a percept. There may be extraordinary condi- tions of our body and mind, vSuch as presentiment and somnambulism, under which the soul perceives indepen- dently of sense- organisms. PERCEPT KNO WLEDGE. In a percept we gain knowledge of external objects in their pri- mary and secondary qualities. Percept Knowledge, — A percept is an idea of an external object. We do not know the object only as an external existence, but as having such and such qualities. The world around us would not help us in our life mission, if we could not know these qualities. Accordingly, God has so made our mind as to cognize external existences in their qualities. Sometimes the process is intuitive, and sometimes it is inferential. Instead of the words immedi- PKRCEPTION. 59 ate and mediate, some writers use the phrases a priori and a posteriori. A quaHty is termed objective when it has an actual existence in the object cognized. A quality is termed subjective when it has existence only as a sensa- tion. Extension is an objective quality ; flavor is a sub- jective quality. It is perhaps best to refer all qualities to three bases, and to make three consequent classes. The three bases for classification may be put as follows : i. lyocated sensations. 2. RCvSisted sensations. 3. Pure vSen- sation. ClassiAcatioii of Qualities. — Accordingly we shall find primary qualities, primo- secondary qualities and secundo- secondary qualities. Primo-secondary and se- cundo- secondary qualities are spoken of as both secon- dary. Primary qualities are such as are essential to the very existence of matter. Secondary qualities are only accidental. The removal of secondary qualities does not annihilate matter, though it change its form and uses. Primary qualities have a distinctly objective existence and produce only localized sensatio7is. Primo-secondary qualities, though not essential to the existence of matter, have never-the-less an objective existence as well as a sub- jective existence. Secundo -secondary qualities have no objective reality. They are sensations pure and simple, vSubjective and physiological. The three classes of qualties may be represented by : i . Extension. 2. Elasticity. 3. Flavor. The nature of the preceding discussion is not so much a matter of psychology as of physics ; but the discussion is necessary because our environments demand that we be acquainted with their qualities. We shall now add several propositions to sum up the preceding discussion. These propositions ma}" require further special discussion. 6o PKRCKPTION. 2S4* Primary 'qualities become known as essential and objective; and the percept cognition is immediate. Primo-secondary qualities, though objective, become known only through sense-resistance and are called mechanical. 26, Secundo-secondary qualities become known only as sensations. They are subjective and phsysiological. The three classes of qualities are determined by the following bases : i. Located sensations. 2. Resisted sensations. 3. Pure sensations. Ex. Extension ; elasticity ; flavor. I/OCated Sensations. — The derivation and enumer- ation of qualities depend on a proper application of enu- merated bases. We come in contact with external objects and feel sensations in different parts of our own body. We know these sensations do not belong to the same lo- cality of our body, and thus learn to know our body as be- ing extended — as having Kxtknsion. If now we touch objects round about us, we find these bodies extended just like our own body. It is thus we learn the objective and essential, primary quality of extension. From this notion of extension, all the primary qualities can be dkduckd. From the fact that an extended object may be placed in two non-adjacent spaces together equal to the one con- tinuous space, and so on, we deduce the quality of divis- iBii^iTY.' An object having extension occupies a certain- amount of space. From this fact we deduce the quality of sizK. When we notice the closeness of adjacent par- ticles, we come to find the quality of dknsity. From the PRRCI5PTION. 6l fact that an object has extension in three directions, we know the quality of figure. When we come to find that the thus and thus extended object can be placed within less and less space, we obtain the quality of compressi- BII.ITY. We notice the easy or difficult motion of par- ticles that make up the examined object, and find mobili- ty. We notice that objects always occupy this or that place, and thus come to know the quality of situa- tion. The following is a resultant enumeration of pri- mary qualities : i. Extension. 2. Divisibility. 3. Size. 4. Density. 5. Figure. 6. Compressibility. 7. Mobili- ty. 8. Situation. These qualities may be called mathe- matical. Resisted Sensation, — A great many qualities of bodies are determined from the degree of resistance op- posed to our touch. It is in this way that we subdivide COHKSION, REPUivvSioN and inertia. From cohesion, for example, we derive soft, fluid, brittle, flexible, smooth, etc., and their contraries. All such qualities are primo- secondary. They are learned mediately, by inference. They have two phases, being objective and subjective. They may be called mechanical and accidental. Pure Sensations. — A great many qualities are mere sensations — affections of our nervous organisms. These qualities have no objective existence in bodies, except that these bodies cause them in our organisms. We speak of the flavor of an orange or the fragrance of a rose ; but the flavor and fragrance are rather names of sensations than of objective qualities in the orange and the rose. To this class belong such qualities as flavor, fragrance, sound, color, savor, chill, fever and a host of others. These qualities are, then, subjective and are known only as sen- sations. We cognize them fy inference and call them phy- siological. 62 pe:rce:ption. Adaptation to hife, — Having seen what some of the qualities of the external world are, we shall proceed to show that our organs of sensation, or of sense-appre- hension, are exactly adapted to our environments. If this were not the case, we should not be able to carry out our life mission. Safety could not be insured for an hour ; comfort and happiness would be but poorly provided for. Indeed, it is question whether we could remain alive for an hour, did we not have the power of cognizing external objects in their essential and accidental qualities. Every- thing we do seems to imply our knowledge of these qual- ities. Without knowing there could be no material pro- gress and no invention. Without them re.spiration and nutrition could not be healhty. Without them our phys- ical and spiritual life would be confusion. 28, Our present environments demand five distinct senses : Touch, Sight, Hearing, Smelling and Tasting. jPive Senses, — We could not claim adaptation of con- stitution, if we had less than five senses, and we could not use a sixth under the present condition of things. God has not given us too few or too many senses. Our imme- diate relation to the objects around us makes it necessary to use the sense of touch. It makes a difference, too, whether we can know objects at some distance from us. Touch will not help us here. We need the sense of SIGHT to tell us there is a mountain in the distance, or an approaching evil. Something, however, may obstruct our vision ; or, the medium of vision, the light, may be taken from us, as at night. It becomes necessary to know things thus hidden from us. Comfort, safety, happiness, and life may de- pend iipon our knowing. Hence, we need the sense of HEARING, so that by the character of sound we may de- PERCEPTION. 63 termine our surroundings and. our relations to these sur- roundings. This sense is exactly fitted to inform us about the physical and the spiritual world around us. Sound thus becomes a medium of interchanging thought and feeling. Through the sense of hearing, the world becomes one great brotherhood. But we need still another sense or two. Poisonous gases find their way into the lungs, and, through respira- tion, produce their deadly effect upon our life. On the other hand, the sweet fragrance of plant and flower, the savor of precious food and the pure, fresh air could not enter into our sensation, were we not endowed with a special sense to receive these sensations. For these and other reasons, we need the sense of SMEi.iy. Nutrition requires another sense to stand like a guar- dian at the entrance to physical life and growth. The sense of smell is also of use here, but does not perform all necessary functions. We need the sense of TASTE to guide us in our choice of food and drink. Thus we see that all the relations of our life to the ex- ternal world are taken into account. In a future world, our nature and surroundings will be different. We may not there need several of our present senses, and God may provide us with others to meet our changed conditions. The subject can be continued at length. The reciprocal relation of body and mind renders sense-appre- hension possible as long as consciousness remains. Body and Mind, — Mental science has of late years been enriched by vast researches in physiology. There is no more beautiful subject in psychology than the one before us now. How can we know anything of the world 64 PKRCBPTION. around us ? How can our body become the medium of in- formation between mind and matter ? What are the condi- tions of proper information ? What may interfere with, or interrupt, or forever break up this intimate relation ? Such are some of the questions involved. We start out by stat- ing that the brain is the medium of this reciprocal relation. The brain has been proved to be the prksknck- chamber of the soul. It is at once the seat of mental life and of phy- sical action. Being the seat of the mental faculties, the brain is a medium of mental modifications ; and being the center of nervous activity and muscular motion, it becomes the mkss age:- origin for every department of physical life. We know that this reciprocal relation is very intimate, and we know it from effects that invariably result in a reciprocal activity. If the body is in an ab- normal condition, mental activity suffers a corresponding modification. If the mind is under tension, the various bodily functions will be in exact sympathy. Xemperaments, — It is this relation of the body to' the mind that gives us the various temperaments, such as sanguine, nervous, bilious and phlegmatic. It is this in- timate relation that causes sorrow and sadness to reveal themselves in eyes and facial lines. Thought — feeling — volition, — all are written in unmistakable ^lines upon face and figure and motion. It is upon this reciprocal relation that the phrenologist and the physiognomist calculate. Upon this relation the teacher, the orator and the physi- cian count. Indeed, there is no end to the joys and sor- rows of life that result from a normal or an abnormal con- dition of this reciprocal relation. An illustration of this relation comes from Russia. Four alleged criminals were condemned to death. These men were considered proper subjects for experiment. Two of them were assigned to a sleeping apartment in which several men had died with the cholera. The new men slept in the room without PERCEPTION. 65 knowing that such had been a fact ; but received no harm. The other two were assigned to another room, fresh and clean, in which no cholera case had ever been ; but they were told that several men had just died of cholera in that room, and that this was to be their death, their punish- ment. In two hours the two men died of cholera. This illustration is certainly most interesting. The student will readily find many more illustrations. The Sensorium and Consciousness. — This re- lation and the activity of the senses are in inseparable asso- ciation with consciousness. Take away all sense- activity and you take away all consciousness ; but when sense- con- sciousness is gone, sense- apprehension is also impossible. This seems to be the case in 2i swoon, in the magnetic state and under the influence of certain drugs. These abnor- mal conditions interrupt the function of consciousness, and at the same moment prevent the mind from receiving messages from the external world. In some of these con- ditions, respiration and circulation may be uninterrupted, and in others life itself seems extinct. Death is an ab- solute interruption. Some cause or other interrupts bodi- ly functions, the senses one after another lose their grasp upon the external w^orld, and when the last sense-gate- way, hearing, is closed, consciousness is blotted out and sensation forever ceases. The inter-communion of body and soul is one of the most intricate arrangements in the wide spheres of God's omniscient wisdom and goodness. That our life may be in most intimate acquaintance with the external world, God has fitted our senses to per- form each a peculiar function. Each sense has its pecu- liar function : touch informs the mind of near external objects ; sight, also of those at a distance ; hearing of sounds ; smelling and tasting, of the chemical properties ■ of bodies. 66 PERCEPTION. That we may know the exact value of each sense, we should know with what items each sense furnishes the the mind in our relation to the external world. SENSE IN FORM A TION. 30, Touch furnishes the mind with immediate and inferential cog- nitions of extension and several secondary qualities of bodies. Touch, — Our hand is the special organ of touch, though this sense has its avenues in almost every fiber of animated bodies. The hand is especially adapted to grasp and to touch. When our hand touches some external object, we experience a sensation. If we had no other sense to give us information of the cause of this sensation, we might not know whether the caicse was Z7i our own body or outside of our body. But when there is more than one sensation felt in our body, we intuitively locate these sensations as here or there. This locating of sensations gives us the immediate cognition of an extended body — of our body as having extensio7i. By a second trial we may in a like manner cognize other external objects as possessing extension. This is an inferential process. The primo- secondary qualities are also cognized either immediately or mediate- ly through the sense of touch. We come in contact with snow, and cognize it as soft ; because it resists our pressure or touch so little. We touch water and know it is fluid. We touch iron and know it is hard. This process, of course, can be carried out at length. Through the sense of tou.ch, then, modi- fied, perhaps, by muscular effort and corrected by an in- ferential process, we become acquainted with near exter- nal objects. tKRCEPTlON. 67 3I' Sight furnishes the mind with immediate cognitions of color, extension, figure, distance and direction. Sight. — The eye is the organ of vision. Its retina is a net- work of nerve fibers upon which an image of exter- nal objects is spread out. This image occasions an im- mediate percept, and is made up of several distinct notions : color, extension and figure. Why a certain object causes this image to be of a certain color, may not be so easy to explain. Color is evidently a sensation in the organ of vision. The external cause of the sensation may contain qualities or motions that produce the sensation known as color. How this cause acts we can not say. One object may cause a greater wave-length of light than another, and thus produce violet or red. Perhaps there are several kinds of nerve-fibers in the retina, so as to produce the sensations of primary colors. A different degree of ener- gy in the fibers would produce the mixed colors. These questions must be decided by physical experiments. Our vision in activity does not reveal the explanation. But one thing is certain — color is an immediate percept. The little infant never has a different experience from that of adults. The adult may have learned by experience to dis- tinguish the various modifications of color, but this fact does not alter the conclusion that the percept of color is im- mediate. ' Extension. — But do we at the same time cognize ex- tension ? Color is always associated with an extended body, and extension is the i?idispe?isadle condition of the external cause of color. An object that has practically no extension gives us practically no impression of color. This proves that if there is no extension, there can be no color for want of a material caiise of the color sensation. A certain portion of the retina is affected when we use 4 68 PKRCEPTION.- our eye. Remembering that light travels in straight lines and that it meets the eye in that way, we are led to con- clude that without an extended object there could be no sensation of color. Of course, in the senses of taste or smell, a certain por- tion of retina is also colored ; but these are not parallel cases. In the first place, these latter sensations come through a different medium, and serve a different purpose in our physical economy. In the second place, the af- fected portion of the retina is a definite portion clear and distinct ; while, in the case of the other senses, the por- tions affected are not definite portions. There is a third consideration of some weight in this examination. The sensations produced in the other senses are the results of ^notion of particles in the external cause of the sensations, so that either an air wave or some substance carried by this air wave reaches the surface of the respective organs of sense. But, in the sense of sight, no such thing can be proved. The sensation of color, coming from some object ex- tended in space, is just as decided when there is no motio?i at all in the objective cause. The sight percept of exten- sion seems, therefore, to be an immediate cognition ; for extension is the inseparable condition of the existence of color- causing particles. These particles being materi- al, it seems impossible to conceive of color apart from sur- face extension. Figure, — Does sight furnish the mind with an imme- diate cognition of figure ? Remembering that light has its varying degrees and shades when reflected from objects, we conclude that these shades produce sensations in the retina, suggestive of tri?ial extension or figure. That we do know trinal extension through the sense of sight, is a fact of experience ; but is the knowledge immediate or mediate ? Is it not a matter of inference — a mediate cog- PERCEPTION. 69 nition ? Adults see objects and never doubt that the cog- nition of figure is immediate. But we can not prove that the child has had a different experience ; and thus come to conclude that the cognition of figure by sight was al- ways an immediate cognition. The sense of touch, of course, corrects our cognition of the exact figure. Distance, — Sight furnishes the mind with an imme- diate cognition of distance. Just how this happens may be difficult to explain. When light falls upon some ob- ject of sight, the rays of light are reflected upon our eye wifk degrees of inte^isity varying with the distance of the ob- ject. The little child thus receives a corresponding reti- nal impression that gives him the percept of distance. The percept is also aided by the angle of vision made when the rays of light from some object meet the eye. This angle varies with the distance. The child does not perceive the exact distance. This is a matter of later inference, a matter of comparison. The senses aid each other in every percept, and the adult learns to compare these percepts until he reaches a comparatively correct estimate of the distance of some object. A number of items enters the proof that this cognition is an immediate percept, i. In adult life we see objects distant from us. 2. The little child appears to have the same impression ; for he reaches out from himself when he wishes to reach anything be- yond him. 3. Animals, too, in their earliest movements, conform their movements to this impression of distance, and their appreciation is pretty accurate. 4. It is no proof to the contrary that we are often mistaken in the exact distance. This is not the absence of a distance - percept. It only shows that we have learned unerringly to judge the exact amou7it of the distance originally per- ceived. These are two wholly different considerations. Remarkable accuracy can be acquired in judging this amount of distance. A traveler, accustomed to varying yo PEiRCKPTlON. densities of the atmosphere and to varying amounts of light, can tell almost exactly how far he is from a given object. Direction. — Sight furnishes the mind with an imme- diate cognition of direction. This is not so difficult to decide. The little child, as well as the adult, acts as if he knew direction. The child may not be able to give a name to the direction ; but he knows it as a percept, and this percept is immediate. The muscular adjustments of the eye at once give the idea of direction. Young animals act in the same way when they try to avoid another animal or some supposed danger. There seems never to be any deception in the percept of direction when it comes from vision. When we look at an object, each eye holds an image ; but we see only one object, and we see the object erect though the retinal images are inverted. One Object. — Two images have undoubtedly been formed when we look at an object. Bach eye contains an image of the object viewed. Bach is an exact transcript. Why do we not see objects double ? A number of expla- nations have been offered. The only plausible explana- tion is, that the centres of the two retinal images satisfy a 7nechanical requirement for single vision. When this exact relation is interfered with, there may be double vision. How the two images are fused into the effect of a single one, is a mental phenomenon perhaps forever hidden from our inspection. Tiie Object Erect. — The retinal images are inverted by a crossing of the rays of light coming from an object. Why, then, should the odject looked at not seem inverted ? The inverted image is a fact, and is the condition of cor- rect perception. The inverted image is only a sensation PE^RCKPTION. 71 suggesting a percept to the mind. This percept does not depend for its character upon the retinal image as much as it depends upon an inference based upon micscidar ad- justment of the organ of sight. Hearing furnishes the mind with immediate and inferential cog- nitions of sound, causal existence, distance and direction. Hearing, — The ear is especially adapted to catch sound. It is the organ of hearing. When some external object is in motioii, the motion, or vibratioji, causes an air- wave to strike upon the tympanum of the ear. A chain of tiny. ear-bones transfei^s the impulse to the internal ear. A water wave here beats its value upon the auditory nerves and produces a sensation. This sensation is what we mean by sound. Sound is nothing more than a sensa- tion. The sensation suggests a percept of sound to the mind, and this parce^t is immediate. Sound is an imme- diate percept obtained through the sense of hearing. By immediate we mean that no process of inference based on comparison is necessary. The infant in the cradle has the same imm^diats percept of sound, though it can not always tell what causes it or whether any*thing causes it, or whether the cause is in its own body or some distant body. The intensity of the air-wave decides the loudness of sound, and many modifications in the external causes result in the various qualities of sound. Causal Existence. — The infant in the cradle hears a sound of a passing wagon, but can not tell that it is a wagon. Later on, the child sees the ivagon and hears a sound. By associating the two percepts, those of sight and of hearing, the child learns to know that the moving wagon is the cause of sound. But this is a matter of ex- perience ; and, hence, we call the cognition of the causal 72 PK R C KPT I ON . existence an infere7itial cogyiition. It is thus that we cog- nize all the causes of all sound, until we can readily tell the voice of a friend, the peal of thunder and the crash of destruction. Distance, — But do we know distance through the sense of hearing ? The little child can not tell the distance of a storm cloud by hearing the sound of thunder. An adult can not always tell the distance of a ringing bell. The cognition of distance, through the sense of hearing, is, therefore, not a cognition of exact distance but of dis- tance simply. Thus far the cognition is immediate. Child and man alike have an immediate cognition that the sounding object has some distance ; but only later infer- ence can determine the amount of this distance. The cog- nifion of more or less exact distance is a matter of com- parison and practice. Napoleon could thus distinguish a cannonade from a thunder peal. The Indians are re- markable for their acquired power in this respect. In our every-day life, it is of importance to be able to acquire this ability. It saves tim,e and labor and concern. It adds to our comfort, readily satisfies our curiosity, and hastens the acquirement of information. Direction. — The sense of hearing also furnishes the mind with the cognition of direction. Is this an imme- diate or an inferential cognition ? The infant hears a sound, but can not always, perhaps not usually, tell whence the sound comes. This inability may be ex- plained by the fact that the child has not yet learned how to use the organ of hearing. It seems evident from the existence of an external ear, that the direction of sound is to be cognized. The adult turns about his head, thus trying to detect the direction, by an adjustment of the ear. But since this is a process depending upon intel- ligent application, we must conclude the cognition of di- rection to be an inferential, not an immediate cognition. PERCEPTION. 73 34' Smelling and tasting furnish the mind with inferential cognitions of qualities that influence respiration and nutrition. Smelling and Tasting. — The nose is the organ of smell. The tongue and adjacent parts form the organ of taste. The nervous organization of each sense is adapted to be affected by tiny particles wafted by air waves into contact with these nerves. The expansive power of the atmosphere is a sufficient cause for such air- waves. The tiny particles of cologne or food reach the respective organs and cause peculiar sensations. These two senses are especially and reciprocally corrective. The nose detects particles that influence respiration, and, at the same time, is a guardian of nutrition. The ex- pansive power of the air wafts odors upward. This ex- plains why the nose is placed above the mouth. It thus becomes a second safe-guard of nutrition. It is, however, not the only organ for the detection of qualities that in- fluence nutrition. Catarrh or some other accident may interfere with the function of smell. Savor may not be a sufficient item upon which the mind should decide in the choice of food or drink. Flavors are sensations in the organ of taste. These sen- sations are the proper data for the health of our nutritive system. A. prudent use of the sense of taste will bring any amount of comfort to the physical system, and, all things being equal, a normal condition of mental forces. It will be noticed that savor and flavor are both mere sen- sations. What the mind infers from these sensat'ons, must b2 called inferential. The derived cognitions are matters of comparison and association. The acquired cognitions of taste and smell become in time very reliable items of information. We can thus easily detect the cause of the sensations in both senses. We can refer particular 74 PKRCKPTION. odors to the rose or to perfumes and so on. We can thus readily refer particular flavors to the orange or the straw- berry. The delicacy of a trained sense of smell or taste is a most admirable acquirement. It has been proved that nearly every percept requires the aid of other percepts and the corrective inference of experience. Corrective Percepts. — This can be seen in our or- dinary conduct and also in the case of those who, blind from birth, have been given sight. We look at a lump of lead and notice its size or extension. From this percept we infer that it weighs so many pounds ; but we can cor- rect this inference by the corrective percept of touch. If we lift a pound of butter without looking at the mass, we may not guess the weight within half a pound. A per- cept of sight at that same moment, changes our estimate. Persons born blind learn to use scissors very deftly. Such persons will know the scissors used by sound and touch. On receiving sight, they will not recognize the scissors unless they /eel them, and hear a sound. Illus- trations of this kind are quite numerous and may be read- ily found by the reader. It is avast field for observation. Kvery-day life is made up of such corrections. 36. The information conveyed to the mind in sense-cognitions is often inferential, but is never-the-less reliable when the senses are sound and used in their proper sphere. Reliability of Percepts, — Our acquaintance with the external world and our knowledge of qualities in bodies, are often not immediate but inferential. In other words, a percept is a hmt, an intimation upon which the understanding must operate. The senses furnish data for P K R C E P T I O N . 75 judgment and reasoning. The reflective process makes our knowledge of external objects morally certain. A straight stick will look bent in the water. This looks like a deception of the eye. It is not a deception. The phenomena of the stick are accurately imaged upon the retina. It is, however, only an isolated percept. The stick will look different in another medium. Water and air differ in their power of refracting rays of light. A comparison of percepts and an inferential process will re- veal the truth about the stick. An object at a distance may seem round, and, when we approach it, the object may be square. This is not a de- ception of the eye. The understanding must make al- lowance for a different condition in each experiment. There may be a different experience for each observer ; but this does not prove deception. It only shows that God meant we should use our mi7id upon data furnished us by the senses. When we fail to do this, our inferen- tial process is to be blamed, but not the data of sense-ap- prehension. Besides this, the fact that God has given us five senses indicates that each separate percept is to be corrected by other percepts. Nor can we ever prove these percepts false ; because the proof must come from these very senses. If now we call them false in our premise, how can we be sure that our conclusion is not forever false ? We see, therefore, that in the absence of proof to the contrary, common sense will always acknowledge sense -percepts reliable. It is much more in accordance with the nature of our mind to acknowledge the senses reliable than to call them unreliable. If they are unreliable, God has made us a creature endowed with organs that habitually deceive us. This is a horrible conclusion and one that is as repulsive to our experience as it is unjust to a loving Creator. 4* 76 P E R C K P T I O N . The fact that we can detect false percepts, shows that, as a rule, percepts are true. The fever patient sees all sorts of images in parade upon the ceiling. He is de- ceived ; but not by sense -percepts. His mind is affected through physical modifications, and his reflective process is the deceiver. The observer by his bedside knows that the sick man is deceiving himself. It is far more reasonable to believe that this detection is a normal result than that it is also a deception. All this goes to show that our senses give us reliable information, unless they are unsound and used in an improper sphere. Near-sighted eyes or eyes in ob- structed light are illustrations. An acquired perception is an inference based upon memory, or imagination, or mediate comparison. Acquired Perceptions. — It is often difiicult to dis- tinguish original, or natural perceptions from acquired, or inferential perceptions. Education, the perfection of an individual, is so dependent upon acquired perceptions that we deem it necessary to notice such perceptions. Chil- dren begin to base their conduct and their notions of things upon acquired perceptions at a very early age. Indeed, no one can remember his earliest acquired perceptions. Every one regards acquired perceptions as important in determining conduct. We may not always be conscious of the importance we attach to such items of inferential knowledge ; but a little reflection and a number of illus- trations will throw light on the subject. Every one of our senses becomes the medium of ac- quired perceptions. In every case it is not really percept tion, but inference. This inference is based upon mem- ory, or imagination, or even mediate comparison. PK R C KPT ION, 77 II lust rations from Sight. — I look at an orange and see the rounded half nearest me, but seem to see the other half also. I do not really see both halves, but base my inference upon recollection. We look at a nutmeg grater and we say that it looks rough. In this case we inferred what really we remem- bered from a previous perception of touch. Sense experi- ences are thus commingled from our earliest years, and we no longer question their accuracy when we have reached maturer years. I look at something I have never seen. Though I see only one part of it, I seem to see all its parts ; and when questioned as to details I find that I had only iinagmed. I look at something that resembles a thing of experi- ence. Basing my inference upon the imiformity of nature, I conclude by mediate comparison that what I see is also of such deform or of such a quality. I seem to have seen this/br;;^ and this quality, but I really only believe that I have seen. Illustrations from Other Senses,. — We hear a certain sound ; it is night now ; but we affirm that we have heard a tolling bell, a thunder peal, a wild beast scream, a song of mother, father, friend. We touch a flower of certain shape and si^e ; it is dark round about us ; but we affirm that what we touch is a red rose, a white lily, 2, green leaf, a black board. We enter into a darkened room and smell the sweet fragrance that pervades it. We affirm that there must be in this room a tuberose, a violet ; or, if the odor be un- pleasant, that there is sulphur, camphor, or decay. We even search for the flower or camphor, confident of the fact that it must be here or there. Some one puts a something into our mouth. We have not seen it, smelted it, or even touched it ; but we affirm 78 PERCEPTION. that it is a cherry, a phtm, a lozenge, a drop of vinegar or of brandy. The acquired perceptions, as it will be noticed, are in- numerable. Upon them we base such important things as learning to walk and to talk ; upon them are based very many of the doings of every day life. PSYCHOLOGICAL AND PRACTICAL VALUE OF PERCEPTS. Sense-perceptions engage the Intellect, sway the Feelings and challenge the Will. It is ever so important, then, to direct them. Relation of Percepts to I/ife, — Perception lies at the foundation of mental activity. It is doubtful whether we could carry on any of the ordinary mental processes without sense-perception. It is true that the fundamental notions of intuition are born with the birth of mind ; but it is not certain that these fundamental notions would ever come into notice without the suggestive occasio7is of seyise-perception. By means of this faculty, we come into possession of vast store -houses of data upon which the Intellect operates, compares and concludes. When the qualities of environments have been cognized, the builder ■and the grower and the manufacturer and the inventor and hosts of necessary actors weave these objects into the service of mankind. The thought before us seems to spin itself out into eternity. I^et the thought nature of our mind be thus brought into play, and feelings follow in all their varied complexion, until the world can hardly write the history of their issues. The vilest criminal is touched by sounds and sights that meet him. The drunk- ard, scarcely able to walk straight, stops to listen to the beautifu^ voice of song, and he hears again the cradle P K R C K P T I O N . 79 song of a mother that perhaps at the moment is looking down from heaven upon her wayward son. Every emo- tion, every affection and passion, every desire of the heart, depends for suggestion 2ipo7i sense-perceptions. This is in a great measure true of our volitions. Life and its con- duct, checkered or pure and noble, is a complex result of volitions formed or broken in the mighty rivers of soul energies dependent on perception. Our mission in life and our preparation for eternal worlds, depend in an awful sense upon this our endowment from God. How solemn- ly responsible, then, must it be to teach our fellow- men ! By an absolute direction of the senses, a teacher would gain well nigh absolute moulding power over his pupils. The great educators of our time have seen this truth. Co7i- crete teaching has come to stay in our public schools. CUL TIVA riON OF PERCEPTION. 39- Cuhivation of senses is a necessity and a possibility. The cul- tivation must be secured by direct exercise. Cultivation of Perception. — In view of what has been said, it is only natural for us to conclude that our senses demand cultivation. God has given them to us as guardians and as message-ways for the mind. He has imposed upon us also the necessity of prudent reflective processes, thus revealing to us the grand privilege of in- telligent being. In the fact that sense-perceptions pre- cede all other mental activity and in the fact that even consciousness depends upon sense-activity, we must ever find God's intimation that we are responsible agents. It lies in our power to direct and cultivate these senses by proper exercise. It is the duty of every teacher to pay his first attentions to this faculty of the mind. By so do- ing he will confer upon humanity a great boon and will 8o P K R C K P T I O N . himself feel that he has done his duty, kept his charge, fulfilled his mission. THE REPRESENTATIVE POWERS- MEMORY, ETC. Representation Essential, — In the preceding chapter we dealt with percepts. These percepts are ideas and images of an external world. They make up the sum total of our notions of things round about us. With- out them, we would lack the fundamental occasions for all thought. But, though we should be endowed with organs and powers to acquire these percepts, unless we be also endowed with a power to connect our present self with our past self, the purpose of these percepts would be wholly frustrated. The percepts of every moment would occur as isolated cognitions, and that is all we could say. ' Hence we infer the existence of just such a power. -' THREE- FOLD CHARACTER. 40. The representative power, in its conception of absent objects, is reproductive, recognitive and creative. It involves Memory and Imagination. Cognitions of sense- objects are called percepts. When subsequent cognitions of these objects i?i their absence enter our mind, we still call them percepts. These are then products of the representative power. It were better to call this power Mental Representation. Custom has given us the name representative ; and this is a proper use of the word. In the case of imagination, there need be no repre- senting. The term is well applied only to memory. Im- agination in its function of ideal combination is also repre- M K M O R Y . 8 I seiitative ; but in its function of ideal creation it need not be so. Memory and imagination may both deal with represen- tation. When we have said they resemble each other in this one respect, we have perhaps pointed out all the re- semblance there is between memory and imagination, lyater on we shall show that these two powers differ ma- terially in their operations and products, and that their functions are distinct and voluntary. For the present we shall consider the notions implied in the words reproductive, recognitive and creative. Is the mind really able to reproduce and recognize former knowl- edge, and is the mind able to create original concepts ? No one will doubt this. The percepts of yesterday, of last week, perhaps of childhood, can be made to stand out as pure transcripts of a reproducing power, and the mind will recognize each transcript as an exact value of a for- mer percept. Both processes are representative. The mind again presents to itself what has been in con- sciousness beforehand. Only exact transcripts are in- volved, and they represent the historically true. The mind has also the power to create original concepts or to so modify former percepts that the concepts are no longer historically true. Such concepts are purely ideal. There are thus two distinct products of Representation. A comparative view makes these distinctions more strik- ing : CONTENTS OF MKMORY : CONCEPTS OF IMAGINATION : 1. Reproduced images. i. Original images. 2. Exact transcripts. 2. Modified transcripts. 3. The historically true. 3. The purely ideal. 4. Recognitive in process. 4. Creative in process. Representation, therefore, involves two distinct facul- ties. We know the former as Memory ; the latter, as Imagination. 82 M K M OR Y . B. MEMORY. 41. Memory is that mental faculty by which we retain, recall and recognize former knowledge. NA TURE OF MEM OR V. Memory is a distinct and voluntary power capable of cultivation. Argumentation, — It is necessary for us to recollect these characteristics as indicated when we think of mem- ory. These qualities are the attributes of a proper men- tal faculty. Reference to the discussion of what consti- tutes a proper mental faculty will be sufficient explana- tion of the attributes indicated. Do they really all appl}^ to memory ? In demonstrating a proposition in Geometr}^ we use all the proper faculties. The functions of memor}- here are clearly discernible and voluntary in the process. By experience each one knows that committing to memory is a voluntary effort, and that by practice the memory receives culture. It is not necessary to prove that the memory is invariably voluntary. For exam- ple : if we voluntarily try to forget a name that is men- tioned at some moment, we shall fail ; but this no more proves that memory is not voluntary than failure of ph}-- sical execution proves man not a voluntary agent. When we try to forget such a name, we act contrar}^ to the laws of memory, we make an imprudent and unreasonable ef- fort and therefore fail in our abuse of memory, just as a voluntary agent will fail when he tries to bite off an iron rod five inches in diameter. Memory is, then, a proper faculty. MEMORY. 83 functions of Memory, — It is now appropriate to consider the functions of memory. These are found to be retention, recollection and recognition. The functions of memory are related to each other as means to an end. Each preceding function is a necessary means for each succeeding function. Retention, recollec- tion and recognition are related by logical necessity. When we shall have learned the exact work denoted by each function, we shall also understand the logical neces- sity above indicated. ASSOCIATION AND SUGGESTION. Introductory Remarks. — To gain a clear notion of the memory, we must study what is known as Associa- tion and Sicggestion. The word association denotes a co- existence of items. In perception we acquire notions of items in co-existence. In memory this is also true. Each co-existent or associated item has a suggestive value in memory. Suggestion is a universal law of thought. SUGGESTION. 43' The term suggestion denotes a reciprocal influence between two or more related items in association. Association, — Knowledge never comes to us as iso- lated items of consciousness. Every sensation, percept, or concept comes to us associated with other sensations, percepts or concepts. These associated items form in the mind a group, or cluster, or chain of co-existence. Hence we may speak of a chain of association. This chain of association consists of all the items associated at a partic- ular moment. We may also say that each such chain is 84 MEMORY. united to the next one formed, so that memory items form a chain of association reaching from the cradle to the grave. Each item of memory is like a link of this chain. Bach link is in clasping contiguity with other links. The word contiguity means contact, or connection, or. associa- tion. These items, or links, may be associated under various relations. Two items may be linked by the re- lation of time and place, other items may be linked to- gether by resemblance ; by contrast ; and by cause and effect. Contiguity under any of these relations becomes a requisite condition for the functions of memory. Each of these relations has the same influence. Suggestion, — This influence is called suggestion. It is a reciprocal influence between two associated items in co-existence. By this influence of one item upon the other, all items are severally suggestive the one of the other. Wky these relations are the necessary conditions for suggestion, can only be explained by the nature of mind. All we know is that this influence is universal, and that its activity is always the same. Since suggestion is an unvarying principle in the mind wherever there is co- ex- istence, or association of thoughts, we call suggestion a ivAW. The relations under which each item is united to its neighbor is not a law ; these relations are only the necessary conditions for active influence between two items. That is, the various relations of items are exciting* causes of suggestion. Each such relation in some mys- terious way rouses the mind into activity, be that ac- tivity the operation of memory or imagination. Sug- gestion is, therefore, a reciprocal influence, an unvary- ing result of contiguity under various but clearly defined relations, a law of thought and universal. These various but clearly defined relations of items in association are known as the ' 'laws of association. " Of course, the word M K M O R Y . 85 "laws" is a misnomer. It is a product of visage and very deceptive to the student of mental science. It is neces- sary, however, to remember that the word "laws" is used in the sense of relations, so that we may understand wri- ters who use the word "laws" in their discussions of mem- ory. Some of these relations are objective ; others are subjective. Objective and Subjective Relations. — Those re- lations which one idea or image or thought holds" to an- other are known as objective relations. The objective re- lations may be called primary relations, because they are essential to the contiguity of thought- objects. The pri- mary relations of contiguity are those of time and place ; resemblance ; contrast ; cause and effect. Those rela- tions which denote the conditions and environments of the recipient of memory- items are known as subjective relations. The subjective relations may be called second- ary relations, because they are not essential to the ab- solute contiguity of thoughts. The secondary relations do, however, determine whether ojie idea shall be sug- gested rather than another. Indeed, the secondary rela- tions of association account for every notion that springs up in memory or imagination. We may not always be able to tell to which particular relation to refer a product of memory or imagination ; but we are able to refer them to such relations in very many instances. The cases are so numerous as to cause us reasonably to conclude that they account for all the products of memory, etc. The secondary relations of association are known as the second- ary "laws" of association. The origin and use of the term has been referred to above. The secondary relations of association are : i. Continuance of attention. 2. Viv- idness of feeling. 3. lyapse of time. 4. Hxclusiveness of association. 5. Frequency of repetition. 6. State of body. 7. State of mind. 8. Temperament. 9. Occu- 86 M BM O R Y . pation. The following propositions should be committed verbatim : 44' Suggestion is the result of contiguity, and causes one related item of former association to recur by the aid of another. 45' The chain of association consists of the several sensations, per- cepts and concepts of a continued and former co-existence. 46. The primary relations of contiguity are : i Time and Place. 2. Resemblance. 3. Contrast, 4. Cause and Effect. These rela- tions are known as the "laws of association." 47' The primary relations of contiguity may be illustrated by : i. Napoleon and Wellington. 2. Blossoms and childhood. 3. Pov- erty and affluence. 4. Vibration and sound. 48. The secondary relations of contiguity are : i. Continuance of at- tention. 2. Vividness of feeling. 3. Lapse of time. 4. Exclu- siveness of association, 5. Frequency of repetition. 6. State of body. 7. State of mind. 8. Temperament, g. Occupation. 49' The secondary relations of contiguity may be illustrated by : i. The convict. 2. Shipwreck. 3. Calculus. 4. Eclipse, 5. Com- mitting. 6. Indigestion. 7. Fear. 8. The party, g. The ring- ing bell. MEMORY. 87 PRIMARY RELA TIONS OF CONTIGUITY. Time and Place. — Napoleon and Wellington illus- trate the relation of time and place. Their co- existence occurred under this relation. They were associated in the battle of Waterloo, and the mention of either name will at once suggest the other items of a former contigui- ty. History and Geography abound in such examples. Resemblance. — Blue eyes and golden hair are de- cided characteristics of an interesting friend. In the ab- sence of that friend, a passing stranger with blue eyes or golden hair will at once suggest the absent friend. In the same way blossoms may suggest childhood days and our exact experiences. The orchard covered with apple- blossoms recalls your earl}^ years, your hopes and plans, your day dreams and your fancies. The blossom season promised so much in both these situations. Other easily traceable resemblances account still more fully for a host of rhetorical figures. Contrast. — The relation of contrast between two items of a former association at once results in suggestion. The sight of queenly robes and ^ dazzling gems recalls a lowly cottage, a thread-bare coat and a loving mother humbly clothed that she may send a darling child to school. Re- verse the case, and the same holds true. Cause and Effect. — Two items of a former associa- tion were contiguous under the relation of cause and effect. The one item will immediately suggest and recall the other. For this reason, sound suggests vibration or vi- bration recalls a certain sound. The relations of items in science and history are thus the objective conditions, the suggestive contiguity for all recollection in our course of study. 88 MEMORY. THE SECONDARY RELATIONS OF CON- TIGUITY. Continuance of Attention, — Every one knows how important these relations are. They denote the pro- per conditions of the'person who is to commit anything. These conditions of the person explain why a certain item recalls o?te former association rather than another. In- deed, the secondary relations of association might be called the necessary subjective conditions of the learner and the instructor. The learner or instructor may, by a proper mastery of the secondary relations of association, acquire almost absolute recollection of all former associa- tions. Continuance of attention is the first of these re- lations. The absence or presence of such continued at- tention will often decide the impossibility or the possibil- ity of recollecting a previous lesson. The convict, on his trial, focused his attention in one continued pressure upon every item in the trial, and a single one of all these as- sociated items will afterwards vividly recall the whole trial scene. And thus the convict in his gloomy cell will recall the judge and jury or the witness in his box. Vividness of Conception, — Major Andre could never have forgotten the scene of his capture, because of the vivid conception caused at the time of his capture. What feeling, what emphatic mental images must have flashed upon his whole soul ! It is thus in a shipwreck. Kvery soul stands in the presence of Eternity. Fear and hope and agony all press every item of sound and sight indelibly upon the memory of those involved. No won- der that the rescued sailor describes the scene with elo- quent words and with eyes again wild with the vivid con- ception upon the canvas of his mind. I/apse of Xime, — Too great a lapse of time makes it utterly impossible to recall our college calculus. The MEMORY. 89 magnetic force, if we may thus symbo lize the nature of the connection between items of former .association, has faded out, and the items have been completely dissociated. It is this principle of our mind that keeps a sorrowing myriad of human souls from despairing in their daily missions. Losses, disappointment, grief and anguish thus lose their poignancy. I^apse of time is the great healer for the wounds of this world ; it proves God's loving care. Mxclusiveness of Association. — You may have seen an eclipse under certain well defined circumstances. It was the only eclipse you saw and the only time you were in such circumstances. If you ever see another eclipse, the eclipse will readily recall the circumstances that were associated exclusively with that occasion. The beautiful song sung by a very de ar friend and by that one friend only, will, if heard ten years afterward, recall that particular friend. The exclusiveness of the associa- tion assures this result. Prequency of Repetition, — Here is the decisive condition for accurate recollection. Wherever this con- dition is faithfully adhered to by learner and instructor, the result will be most gratifying. It may not be a very palatable advice ; but he who would attain all the desirable qualities of a reliable memory must be willing to repeat and repeat and repeat. Review is the main-stay of a teacher's success. Upon his patience and perseverance in this matter must always depend the usefulness of the learner's effort and satisfactory results for the instruc- tor. Frequency of repetition seems to have the same effect upon items of association as repeated charges of an electric machine would have upon objects charged. Fre- quency of repetition is like repeated tracings upon a tab- let of wax. Every succeeding touch will deepen the channel traced. Committing to memory, a practice of vital importance, may thus become a potent factor in ac- 90 M E: M O R Y . quiring a vast Store-house of valuable scholarship. Even mechanical committing may thus hold items before our thought-nature until the mind has assimilated the items. State of Body. — We know how hard it is to recall what we read when our head ached with fierce throbbings. Indigestion or a dull liver may determine an item of for- mer association to suggest an experience altogether dif- ferent from the experience suggested by the same item to a person that knows nothing of indigestion or a dull liver. An article of food will thus recall to one man the horrible head-ache consequent upon formerly eating the article, and to another man it will suggest a most happy conver- sation associated with some former eating of the same ar- ticle of food. Students will readily discover illustrations of personal experience. The reciprocal relation of body and mind lies at the basis of such results. State of Mind, — Anger, fear, intense feeling or con- ception of any kind determines the items of our recollec- tion. While riding on the train through a dark tunnel, the fear once inspired by an accident on a former trip through a tunnel, will decide the suggestion of the former environments and perhaps cause the person any amount of discomfort. To one who was never thus unfortunate, the dark tunnel and the mufiled rumbling are perhaps suggestive of some romance or some jolly trip down the dark caverns of dusky diamonds. If we could know the exact condition of the mind at the moment of acquiring any experience, we should be able to compute with some certainty the exact results of recollection. Bad news, the state of the atmosphere and any other experience affecting the reciprocal relation of body and mind, will all help to modify our retention and recol- lection. temperament. — The bilious temperament in associ- ation with any particular item will be likely to recall the MEMORY. 91 exact contraries to items recalled by the man of sanguine temperament. Temperament is a factor of perceptive procCvSses and thus necessarily decides the recollection of items in a former association. It is thus explained why persons of different temperament recite a lesson or an ex- perience, mentioning items so widely different. The bilious temperament will recall all the dark phases of an evening party ; while the light-hearted, jolly maiden will recall all the bright phases of that party. Future days will fill the minds of the two classes of persons with images as widely differing as darkness differs from light. The factor of temperament thus enters very actively into the results of retention and recollection. It is a most potent modifier of memory. Occupation. — Every one can readily offer an illus- tration under this heading. The farmer, lawyer and preacher may walk down town, arm in arm. On the sudden striking of the town clock or the ringing of a bell, the farmer will recall his dinner hour, the lawyer, his ap- pointment with a client, and the preacher, his appoint- ment with a couple to be wedded at that hour. Corres- ponding differences of a reflective process will make it im- possible for the three to continue arm in arm. We can readily guess, for example, how the preacher would re- gret the loss of a crisp ten dollar bill. RETENTION. 50. Retention is often a voluntary effort to bring items of knowledge into suggestive relations of contiguity. Nature and Aim of Retention.— Retention is sometimes voluntary and sometimes involuntary. Some- times the mind retains without effort and even against its own willingness. 5 92 M K M O R Y . In su:li cases the primary and secondary relations of association have been unconsciously satisfied, and the mind simply acts according to a natural* law. In committing a lesson or in retaining what we wish to remember, retention is a voluntary effort to bring items of knowledge into contiguity ; it is an effort to secure certain relations of association. In this effort items of perception and conception are brought into co -existence. This voluntary process of association is based upon the intuitive cognition that associated items have a tendency to suggest each other. The voluntary phase of retention resembles somewhat the second function of memory, namely, recollection. Consciousness and experience both recognize this ; but recognize also that there is a generic difference. Reten- tion and recollection are a logical necessity in memory. A proper process of retention aims to place items of knowledge into the most suggestive relations of associa- tion. The relations having a decidedly suggestive ten- dency are those already noticed in the discussion of pri- mary and secondary laws. When retention is an intelli- gent and voluntary process, it constitutes the proper basis for complete recollection. Retention becomes an intelligent process when it is based upon exact cognition of the items to be retained. Our power to retain and to recall depends in a great measure upon our power of comprehending the items to be retained. Perhaps nothing is so much to be regretted as the uncertain and reckless retention of careless learners. He who would make his retaining capacity a voluntary ability must first have sufficient patience to apprehend and to comprehend the item and not something like it ; and secondly, he must intelligently associate what he retains. Children should not be allowed to do careless commit- MEM OR Y . 93 ting ; every effort should be made by teachers to help children to commit intelligently. TEN A SSIS TANT RE LA TIONS. lyCt US inquire what are the most suggestive relations of association. What are the characteristics of sugges- tive association ? In what relation shall we place con- tiguous items of association ? Having already studied these relations we may characterize the association to be aimed at in retention as follows : It must be 1. An interesting association. 2. A continued association. 3. A repeated association. 4. A vivid association. 5. An emphatic association. 6. The reciprocal relation of body and mind modifies the association. 7. Occupation and temperament modify the association. 8. There may be exclusiveness of association. 9. The association may be mechanical or logical. 10. The association should include the objective rela- tions of contiguity. An Interesting Association, — Retention is an in- teresting association when the items to be retained are in- teresting. Some things are more beautiful or useful or novel, and for such and similar reasons are more interest- ing. Abstract items can often be made more interesting by concrete instruction, by humor, or by individual char- acteristics of an instructor. We cannot over-estimate the pedagogical value of an interesting association in the process of retention. A Continued Association, — Retention is a con- tinued association when there is continuance of attention. It is continuance of attention that has filled the mind of 94 MEMORY. the naturalist with every imaginable detail in nature. It is continuance of attention that makes a special occupa- tion able to retain every minute detail of that occupation. The student who, through voluntary eifort, summons up persevering continuance of attention to the one topic in hand will command respect in his class and attain to vast acquisitions in every sphere of life. Repeated Association, — Retention is a repeated association when there is frequency of repetition. Re- peated association is a most necessary association. Every repetition seems to unite the items associated into a more magnetic union. Rkvibw is the: soui. of re^tknTion. Review is the conservation of energies expended in the acquirement of facts. Vivid Association. — Retention is a vivid associa- tion when there is vividness of feeling in the process. Vividness of feeling may denote any strong feeling, such as anger, excitement and fear. There should always be present an exact apprehension of items to be retained and a sufficient amount of interest to cause vividness of feel- ing. When the association can be made vivid, so that the retained thought stands out in consciousness like an image upon the retina, or a painting upon a canvas, there will be successful retention. The presence or absence of a vivid association in retention partly explains the mem- ory phenomena of old age. Hmphatic Association, — Retention is an emphatic association when we retain with voluntar3^ effort. Men- tal emphasis upon any form of activity always results not only in exact apprehension of items to be retained ; but places associated items into such a binding contiguity that subsequent events seem to have no changing influ- ence. The learner knows how much more he retains under attention than when he tries to acquire listlessly. MEMORY. 95 Reciprocal Relation of Body and Mind. — The intimate relation of body and mind modifies the associa- tive process of retention. When the boiy is exhausted by sickness or physical effort, retention is a very trying process. Every one knows how our nervous organiza- tion and our liver system are affected by the state of the atmosphere. But the brain, the seat of the mind, is af- fected by our nervous state ; and the contiguity of items as well as the selection of items is thus strangely modi- fied. Nervous tension seems to decide the energy of con- tiguity. Any unusual state of mind also modifies the process of retention. This may be accounted for by re- membering that anything like sad news or joyous news, or disappointment or success is per se an object of interest an 1 attention. Kxperience will supply many illustrations. Occupation and Temperament, — Occupation and temperament modify the character of retention and also the selection of items to be retained. We are all apt to retain more readily the items of our daily experiences, because of frequency of repetition and vividness of feeling. Temperament decides the selection of items equally as much, and it decides the exactness of cognition as well as the amount of voluntary effort applied in the associating process of retention. Uxcliisiveness of Association. — Retention is modified by exclusiveness of association. It is easy to retain an item or a fact that is associated with but one other item. Exclusiveness of association is, however, rather a suggestive relation in recalling that which was retained. Objective Relations. — The primary relations of time and place, resemblance and contrast, cause and effect, as conscious or unconscious elements in the process of retention, will materially aid the retention of items. The 96 M K M O R Y . learner will find that when he cognizes any of these ob- jective relations, he can hasten the process of retaining. I/Ogical and Mechanical Association. — Reten- tion is properly called mechanical when the items to be committed are connected as mere abstract symbols ; when the forms are retained rather than the connected thoughts. Retention is a logical process when not only forms of thought, but connected thoughts are retained. Mechan- ical retention is more common in youth ; logical reten- tion, in maturity. Mechanical retention is an arbitrary process, and logical retention is a natural process. These distinctions are the explanatory facts in the greater or less success of any man's retention. It is, however, often reasonable and advantageous to cultivate mechanical' retention. It is not only a training of the voluntary nature, but has a pedagogical value. We may sum up this value in a brief enumeration. 1. It is of practical use. 2. It is necessary in all recitations. 3. It is the initial step to the understanding. 4. It holds topics before our thought- nature. 5. It is an essential of proper review. While this is true, it should be our constant effort to retain by logical association. Such an association will not only hasten the process and thus save valuable time ; but will make committing far more satisfactory. More than this can be said ; for that which we retain in a logical as- sociation is retained in accordance with the very nature of Intellect. MNEMONICS. A system of mnemonics is an association of items, so ordered that when the learner has fixed the items in a given succession, all facts in their chronological succes- MEMORY. 97 sioii may be linked to the assumed association of items in the mnemonic system. All systems of mnemonics are based on association and suggestion. Various systems have been offered to the educated world. Among them is the system of Prof. Loissette. This system seems to be a remarkably ingenious scheme. It is doubtful whether any artificial system is of much educational value. It miy satisfy our sense of novelty and oddity, but surely can not take the place of logical mem- ory. Mnemonics may satisfy the curious and aid the peculiar, but the actual student of physical and metaphys- ical sciences must not imagine that mnemonics can dis- cover a royal road to scholarship. Hard work, persever- ance and logical linking of committed items will go farther to secure success for memory than any system of mne- monics. Retention is a process of associating exact items of knowledge into most suggestive relations of co- existence. What is the aim of such association ? PREVIOUS CO-EXISTENCE AND MEMORY. The law of suggestion already noticed makes such as- sociation the requisite for recollection and recognition. Retention is the initial function, the preparatory element of memory. Without co-existence, items in their isola- tion could not have a reciprocal influence upon each other ; and without a reciprocal influence of items of con- sciousness, there could never be anything like suggestion. Co-existence may be 2^ present association or a former as- sociation of items. Items of consciousness in present co- existence are suggestive to all intellectital faculties ; but unless the items belong to a former association the mem- ory is not concerned. Even sensations and emotions may be suggestive and thus help the functions of memory. If in retaining certain items in co-existence, similar or con- 98 MEMORY. trary sensations become objects of consciousness, a repe- tition of such sensation ma}'^ recall the former association. MATERIALS FOR RETENTION. What sort of items may enter the. associating process of retention ? I^et us examine consciousness for an answer. Sensations, — We eat an orange and experience a sensation of flavor. This sensation becomes an object of consciousness and as such is associated with the orange which is also an object of consciousness through the gate- way of sight. This sensation can be retained in some mysterious way. It is true that the sensation is not an experience of consciousness when the orange is absent, and yet when the word orange is mentioned there is an activity of the nerves of taste corresponding to the activ- ity of those nerves when the orange was actually tasted. We can not say that the literal sensation is retained, for that would make a certain relation of nervous molecules a requisite condition. Such a relation we can never prove ; but while the literal sensation is not retained, the sen- sation causes a mental equivalent for the sensation and this mental equivalent is retained. If it is not retained, then it is impossible to explain recollection or recognition. Both recollection and recognition are matters of experi- ence. Hence, even if we can not explain the exact nature of retaining each item of former consciousness, retaining is still a fact. The memory is, however, not to be com- pared to a material tablet or a physical receptacle. When- ever such a comparison is made, we dignify the nervous organism as superior to mental organization. Percepts. — A percept is an idea or an image resultant from perception. Since such a percept is a fact of con- sciousness and since whatever may be properly associated in consciousness assumes some relation of suggestion, M KM O R Y . 99 every percept is a material for retention. Indeed, per- cepts constitute a vast collection of associated items in our memory. Perception furnishes more material for reten- tion than any other mental power. Upon these percepts as retained in memory, we base our reflective processes, and out of them grows the mass of our life-conduct. Per- haps perception is the determining power of the mind. Perhaps it decides the necessity of memory, and as such a deciding power it must furnish the memor}" with a vast amount of material for retention. Pormer Concepts. — Retention finds its material in every domain of the mind. The products of every active power, and the imparted impulses in every receptive ca- pacity of mind, become proper materials for retention. Ideas and truths of intuition, concepts of fancy, decisions of judgment and conclusions of reasoning, are proper ma- terials for retention. Simple emotions, affections and desires, in so far as they become distinct facts of con- sciousness, are materials for retention. Motives, choices and volitions are materials for retention. All these items can be placed into proper association, into relations of as- sociation, into relations that are suggestive. Thus they are brought into the grasp of retention. Retention makes memory a vast spiritual storehouse, an immatkriai. rk- CKPTACLB for the products of mental powers and capaci- ties. The nature of such a receptacle we can not fully comprehend. As a function of the mind, retention is a mysterious grasp of items, a grasp that may continue with sufficient energy our personal identity into Eternity. 5* lOO M15MORY. RECOLLECTION. 51' Recollection is the voluntary or involuntary recalling of items in a former association. It is based upon suggestion. Two-Pold Character, — Consciousness is our source of information. From it we learn that, after retaining items of former association, we may voluntarily or invol- untarily recall such items of former association. The fact that items once associated assume a suggestive relation in co-existence, explains the possibility of involuntary recollection. Some item of the former chain of associa- tion may accidentally enter our consciousness and, through . the law of suggestion, this item may reproduce the former association. It is thus that long forgotten names or facts come into our recollection without an effort of ours. This line of thought explains reverie and absorption and re- flection and other phenomena. On the other hand, vol- untary recollection is an experience of consciousness. A forgotten name may be recalled by a voluntary effort to re-associate any item of memory's chain with the forgot- ten one. Sometimes we shall fail to do so until we dis- cover some item formerly in contact with the forgotten name. Kvery one knows how suddenly such a discovered item, by its suggesting power, brings the forgotten name into our consciousness. It is not necessary to suppose continued sub-conscious effort to recall such a name. The fact that the effort can not be proved conscious phe- nomena, is sufficient proof that there was no effort. We can not go back of consciousness. The effort to recall a forgotten name is a universal confession of the mind that something has been retained and that this something can be recalled. All that is necessary for such recollection is the recurrence of some item of former association. This MEMORY. lOI item is an object of effort or an object of search. We may discover the item by search or ivithout search. Once dis- covered, such item will have a suggesting influence suf- ficient to make recollection possible. Personal experience furnishes hosts of illustrations. Suggestion, whether objective or subjective, renders recollection a manifold possibility. Suggestive Relations, — That recollection may be quick rather than slow, items of association must be placed into proper and most suggestive relations of con- tiguity. If these relations are decided and definite, recol- lection is more likely to be a quick process. In studying and in teaching, it should be our constant effort to retain knowledge according to the so-called laws of association. Reference to primar}^ and secondary laws of association will suffice at this point of the discussion. Of all the re- lations of contiguity, the most important ones for ready and complete recollection are : i. Vividness of Feeling. 2. Continuance of Attention. 3. Frequency of Repe- tition. In a wider sense, we may say that recollection depends upon the same laws as retention. When retention has occurred in accordance with these laws, recollection will follow as a natural step. Retention was the preparatory step. PRODUCTS OF RECOLLECTION. 53' Vividness of recollection depends upon the source of retention. Vividness and Dimness, — Vividness depends on the SOURCES of retention. The usual sources of retention I02 MEMORY. are the five sense -gateways. Percepts coming through these gateways are not all equally definite. The eye is pre-eminently superior to all other sense- organisms as a source of percepts. The ear seems to come next in or- der. It is a primary requisite for successful recollection that what we are about to retain must be grasped exactly — the thing and not something like it. Accuracy of perception and clearness of conception stand in balanced proportion. It is self-evident that what we never grasped just as it was, can not be recalled just as it was. Since sight is the gate -way through which definite images enter the mind, we are better able to re- member and better able to recall items obtained through sight. This explains why it is better to learn a thing by sight than by sound. The eye is better than the ear in acquiring vocabulary or in retaining knowledge. The teacher of orthography and language finds the eye worth twice as much as the ear. Quickness or Slowness. — Recollection is also de- pendent upon TAI.KNT and cui^TURK. The memory of children whose parents had general culture is always better than that of children whose parents lack general culture. Practice, exercise is, however, the most de- cisive element in the success of recollection. Without voluntary exercise recollection becomes sluggish and un- ready. With judicious exercise the memory can be made to recall at once what it definitely retained. Such volun- tary exercise is a possibility for the learner and should be required by instructors. When the process of recalling is involuntary, we term it remembrance ; but when we recall with voluntary effort, it is termed recollection proper. Success of Recollection. — Accurate and complete recollection is a most satisfactory acquirement in educa- tion and should be aimed at by every one. Such recol- lection depends upon the nature of retention as well a^ MEMORY. 103 Upon voluntary effort in recalling. When items of know- ledge have been retained in a mechanical way, recollec- tion is well nigh impossible in a few weeks. Retention should, therefore, not be merely mechanical ; it should be a logical association, an association based upon the ob- jective relations of thoughts. What we retain, for ex- ample, as cause or effect, is very readily recalled as such, whenever the occasion presents itself Under a healthy exercise of memory, the products of recollection will be more vivid than the percepts upon which memory oper- ated. 54' Memory furnishes remarkably accurate images for the subse- quent description of absent objects. Word- Painting from Recollection. — When we stand in the presence of some object of sense-apprehension, unimportant items blur the image caused by important items. Perception, by a sort of dissipation, weakens de- scription in that it does not suppress belittling details. In the presence of the sublime or beautiful, we see not only the important features and the emphatic lines of de- scription, but we wander, as it were. Hence, when we describe the sublime or the beautiful we fail to deal with definite and with emphatic features, and thus also fail to touch the hearer with emphatic touches. When we describe from me^nory, the belittling details drop out, and emphatic features make the description ap- pealingly eloquent. Niagara Falls, Glen Onoko, the storm at sea, the land- scape and the mighty chorus, can be more vividly de- scribed when the description is based upon memory than upon perception. Novelists, painters, orators and artists take advantage of this remarkable accuracy of recollec- I04 M K M O R Y . tion. It is also a matter of experience in our .every-day conversational descriptions. The blind old traveller, Niebuhr, could recall vivid pictures of Oriental scenes. Touched by the images of recollection, he described with eloqicence those far away lands of the Bast. The orator, especially, gains descriptive power in proportion with his obedience to this feature of recollection. 55' The good memory that usually accompanies superior mental ca- pacity is modified by disease and old age mainly for lack of inter- esting and repeated association. JEffects of Disease and Old Age, — Recollection is more or less ready and complete in proportion to the normal or abnormal relation of body and mind. The re- ciprocal relation of body and mind decides the selection of facts of consciousness, modifies the selection of items to be retained and determines the items of recollection. Dis- ease and injury of the nervous system modify and even interrupt this intimate dependence of body and mind. A greater tension of the nervous organism may re-vivify facts apparently forgotten. This is illustrated by the ex- perience of Germans and Swedes in Philadelphia. It is recorded of these people that they had not used their na- tive tongue for many years ; but that, under the tension of disease and dying, they spoke their native tongue. There are many such instances. A jar upon the nervous organization has often caused the person affected to forget most familiar relations. Dr. Haven relates the experi- ence of a surgeon who, for a time, forgot that he had a wife and children. The insane forget their former life. Nervous exhaustion causes unready and incomplete recol- lection. Memory seems to give way first. This may only seem so because the other mental powers do not be- MEMORY. 105 tray weakness so readily. Perhaps vocabulary suffers first of all. Transposition of words or letters is a com- mon result. In old age, recollection is not complete or accurate. What came to our aged mother in her youth, is readil}^ and completely recalled ; but what came to her in her later years, soon vanished, and recollection became slow and incomplete. How can we account for the mem- ory phenomena of old age and of memory outside of some favorite occupation ? When old age comes, the senses one by one respond less vividly to their contact with the ex- ternal world ; sights and sounds, even touch, savor and flavor, are less distinct sensations. In consequence of a degeneration in sense- apprehension, all percepts are usual- ly more indistinct. This furnishes the key to the expla- nation that we are seeking. What . aged people can no longer distinctly perceive, is not likely to produce vivid- ness of feeling. Our fathers and mothers are more inter- ested in the distant past. Interest /s the primary relation of contiguity. Interest determines vividness of feeling and makes the association of items a permanent retention. The less interest or vividness of feeling concerned in an association of items, the less probable will it be for mem- ory to recall such items. In the second place, the aged pilgrim is not likely to engage in repeated association when the items to be associated lack in interest for him. Repeated association is, however, a necessity for ready and complete recollection. An old person will re- call for hours and hours scenes from his childhood and from early manhood and from middle- age ; but he will make but little effort to retain or to recall passing circum- stances. We thus see that the phenoraena of recollection in old age are accounted for mainly because interesting and repeated association have not prepared the memory for recollection. The gradual decay of the physical sys- tem and the modified reciprocal relation of body and mind I06 M K M O R Y, in the aged, also accounts for some phenomena. In the same way we may explain the memory of men engaged in FAVORITE OCCUPATIONS. The very fact that there is a favorite occupation, furnishes us the conclusion that such person is not interested in other spheres of life ; and that in consequence of this lack of interest, there is no fre- quency of repetition. Edison is likely to recall items of experience in his own favorite s^ere of electrical exper- iments ; but he is not so likely to recall what never con- cerns him enough to produce vividness of feeling or re- peated association. Sometimes a professional man says he can not recall names or dates or some other item. This is a common experience and is explained in the same way as the memory of the aged or of those engaged in a favorite oc- cupation. Mental Superiority and a Good Memory. — A good memory usually accompanies superior mental capacity. A good thinker may claim that he has a poor memory. What does he mean ? If you stop him a mo- ment, you will likely find that he means to say that he has a poor 7neckanical memory , or that his memory is good only in his particular department. In this he is right. A good reasoner often lacks mechanical memory, because he need not use his memory in a mechanical association of items. He must constantly aim at logical association of truths and facts, so that he may reach a logical conclu- sion. It is, indeed, impossible for a good reasoner, for a superior mental capacity, to be without a logical memory. No consequent step could ever be taken apart from a log- ical association with causative antecedents. While a good memory is not an absolute criterion of superior mental capacity, it is still true that a good memory usually ac- companies such general capacity. Thus we conclude MEMORY. 107 with the nature of recollection, its manifold modifications in the presence of abnormal elements. RECOGNITION. 56. Recognition is a subsequent knowing of items formerly asso- ciated in our own retention. Re -Association. — Recognition is the subjective func- tion of memory. In it we agaiii know items of our own experie7ice. We know these items in their exact relation of a former association. The time, the place, the cause and effect, the various environments indicated in the sub- jective relations of association, — all these or some of these re-associate themselves in our recognition. We might call recognition a re-association. Recognition may be ac- curate or inaccurate, complete or incomplete ; but recog- nition is never-the-less the ultimate function of memory. Recognition the Ultimate Function of Mem- ory. — Retention and recollection have no mission, no purpose unless recognition follows these as a consequent. In the first moment of recollection, there may be no re- cognition or but incomplete recognition ; but this is only for a moment When once an item has been recalled, recognition like a dawning light, soon spreads through the soul. Memory is distinctivbIvY rkcognitivk. Complete and Accurate Recognition. — Whether recognition proves to be complete and accurate depends on proper or improper retention and recollection. If re- tention was an association characterized by interest, em- phasis, repetition and other requisites, recollection will be ready, accurate and complete ; and resultant recogni- tion will also be accurate and complete. I08 MKMORY. Recognition a Connecting I^ink. — Every power of the mind depends for its activity upon recognition. Without it the products of memory and of imagination could not be distinguished, and the soul would be afloat in a vast uncertainty. Without recognition judgment could form no estimate of relations between the past and the present or the future. Without recognition reason- ing could not take a reliable step, and intuition would be an absurd power of the mind. Recognition Saves from Isolation. — It is re- cognition that makes our mental life a continuous stream and places each soul in an exact relation to the past, present and future. Without recognition conduct and character would be uncertain and isolated items of life. Human Affairs and Recognition, — Our rela- tion to our fellow-men depends upon recognition. Busi- ness, duty, engagement, accomplishment, reliability, continuation, — all these and myriads more have no mean- ing when recognition ceases. Each man has his particu- lar sphere in life and holds this sphere in relations possi- ble only on the basis of recognition. Recognition points out our friend or foe ; makes us a creditor or a debtor ; reveals us as teacher or learner ; as employer or em- ployed ; as man and wife ; as parent and child. All moral and religious and personal obligations are based upon accurate and complete recognition. Personal Identity and Recognition. — Our prop- er proof of personal identity is derived from conscious recogyiition. Recognition determines that pur present self is a continuation of our past §elf. Insanity interrupts memory, drops out recognition and loses the proof of per- sonal identity. It is for this reason that the insane man so often imagines himself as a king or an avenger. We never doubt that we are personally the same to-day as we were in childhood. We are sure of this identity because MEMORY. 109 recognition tells us so. Recognition assures us of person- al identity and a consequent 7noral position in this world. Old AgG and Beyond the Grave, — Amid the evening shadows of life, recognition assures us that we are the very person whose past was one golden stream of noble living or a bitter struggle for existence or a woe- begone, agonized out-pouring of horrible wickedness. How beautiful is a pure old age ! Recognition replaces that dear old mother into her most lovely years ! Recog- nition lights up the soul of the weary, worn-out pilgrim, with the light of a beautiful past or it fills the soul with the terrors of hell. As long as there is breath, recogni- tion declares our sameness ©f person ; and we may readi- ly infer that, in a future world, memory, by its recogni- tions of all our past life, will be the basis of heaven's joy or hell's eternal agony. If the soul lives beyond the grave, so will recognition be found beyond the grave, and either excuse or accuse the soul in heaven's bliss or hell's eternal torment. The previous discussion resolves itself into the following : 57. Since disease can only interrupt recollection and often makes recollection and recognition more vivid, we infer that future retri- bution may result from the recognition of a sinful life-time. 58. Amid the evening shadows of life, by-gone delights recur to memory with vivid reality and even sorrow is robbed of its pain when we fondly recall the departed. Recognition of Sorrows. — Life is not all a con- tinued brightness. Dark clouds blacken every horizon with occasional gloom. The memory reports both phases of life to the aged sire and the aged mother ; but sorrows no MEMORY. are robbed of poignancy by the faithfulness of recognition. A mother does not think of her child as it might be if it still lived ; but she recalls it as it was — -a sweet little cherub. Melancholy recollection this may be ; but who would be deprived of its consolation ? QUALITIES AND KINDS OF MEMORY. 59- If the functions of memory are retention, recollection and recog- nition, it may or may not possess strength, quickness and com- pleteness. ^numeration of Qaalities. — The qualities of memory must be deduced from its functions. We retain with STRENGTH or with WEAKNESS ; we recall with QUICKNESS or with SI.OWNESS ; we recognize with COM- PI.ETENESS or with incompIvETENESS. The important qualities of memory are strength, weakness, quickness, slowness, completeness and incompleteness. Of course, every memory is variously modified by combinations of the above named qualities. The desirable qualities are STRENGTH, QUICKNESS, COMPI^ETENESS. ^numeration of Kinds, — The important kinds of memory are known as good, poor, mechanicai. and ivOGiCAi.. A good memory is characterized by strength, quickness and completeness. A poor memory is charac- terized by weakness, slowness and incompleteness. A mecha7iical memory is characterized by arbitrary associa- tion ; it is apt to recollect imperfectly and to recognize incompletely. A logical memory is characterized by log- ical association ; it is likely to prove most satisfactory in recollection and recognition. The good memory is al- ways to be desired. The mechanical memory has its im- portant uses ; but a logical memory is the jewel of mas- ter-minds. MEMORY. Ill CUL rtVA TION OF MEMOR V. 60. It is possible and necessary to improve the memory. Proper exercise will result in remarkab le ability. Remarkahle Results. — Persons noted for their good memory come to our notice in history. Cyrus remem- bered the names of all his generals. Demosthenes knew the twenty thousand citizens of Athens by name. Hor- tensius could, at the close of an auction, name all the ar- ticles sold and the price of each article. A Corsican boy could repeat thirty-six thousand names in the order in which he had heard them and then also in reverse order. Dr. Wallis of Oxford solved difficult problems and re- membered the answers for weeks. Buler, the blind mathematician, tested the mathematical work of two students, and his decision — a memory solution — was found to be correct. Magliabechi could, after reading the man- uscript of a new book, repeat the whole book ; he knew the exact title, shelf, and author of books on almost any subject. Homer's Iliad was committed to memory in modern times. Native power may partly account for these remarkable results ; but exercise surely was a deci- cisive element in each case. Directions for Cultivation, — Cultivation of any mental power must be a cultivation of the fiindions of that power. Hence, to cultivate memory is to improve our powers of retention, recollection and recognition ; our memory must be taught to retain with strength, to recall with quickness, and to recognize with completeness. The only way for improving the memory is to 2ise it in volun- tary retention, voluntary recollection, voluntary recogni- tion. Exercise is the law of all culture. Exercise for the memory must conform with the laws of association. The 112 M IS MOR Y . student and teacher must aim to satisfy the primary and secondary laws ; it is important to keep the laws of asso- ciation before our mind when we study. The teacher should especially aim to satisfy the secondary laws of as- sociation. A memory exercised in accordance with these laws will become strong, quick and complete. What we commit, what we study, should be made an interesting association of items, an emphatic association, and a re- peated association. In other words, we should acquire knowledge with interest, under attention, and by repeti- tion. Interest, attention and review are most potent fac- tors in the cultivation of memory. 0. IMAGINATION. 6i. Imagination is that mental faculty by which we form ideal crea- tions. It is a distinct and voluntary power. Memory and imagination have one element in common. Both powers are image poivers, both are representative. The formation of the word imagination denotes the evi- dence of universal consciousness that there is such a power, and that it is especially an image- forming power. In its widest modifications, imagination may create pro- ducts that are not, strictly speaking, images, though im- age-creation is the ultimate tendency. A POWER— ITS RELATIONS. Sometimes it is daimed that what are called ideal cre- ations are the complex products of abstraction, sugges- tion, taste and other mental processes. This view seems to result from an imperfect analysis of mental energies and mental products. Abstraction, suggestion, recollec- tion and other energies of mind may often furnish their separate or combined materials, may be involved in the regulation of the most lofty efforts of the imagination ; but yet each of these energies is distinct from the constricc- tive function of imagination. We might as well claim that, because reaso7ii7ig upon some proposition in mathe- matics presupposes and involves all of the intellectual fac- ulties, reasoning is not a distinct function, and hence not a distinct faculty. Of course, this would be a scientific folly as unpardonable as want of definite basis and want of classification can make anything in the sphere of 114 IMAGINATION. science. Let us notice the inter-relation of other mental functions and that of imagination. Such an analysis must determine the truth. Perception and Imagination. — Perception may conduct our mind into immediate sense- contiguity with some object. The sensation and the resultant percept are both products of perception, and the mind may seize upon both as a suggestive ground- work for ideal creation. This is a common experience. lyovely blos- soms, sighing breezes or luxuriant fragrance, readily urge the energy of mind into a creative effort. Lovely blos- soms suggest a simile or metaphor ; sighing breezes may suggest the soul set free and passing by ; luxuriant fra- grance may suggest abundant, over- flowing joy. The imagination weaves these products of perception and sug- gestion into more lofty, more delicate, more concrete re- presentations. Recollection and Imagination. — When the past sensation and percept have faded into recollection, the simple images of memory in the moment of recognition furnish a suggestive ground- work for ideal creation. These images affect the imagination like an inspiration. The images of memory incite and encourage the creative faculty of our mind. It is thus that Imagination dares to attempt its loftiest flight. The book of nature and the book of art are reproduced and represented in memory with almost a divine effect upon the imagination. In these efforts of the imagination there is no copying, no exact transcript, no old products ; but wholly new combin- ations or new creations. The products of memory were only a suggestive source of inspiration. Judgment and Taste. — When imagination * 'bodies forth the forms of things unknown and gives to airy noth- ing a local habitation and a name," the creative faculty is in its own distinct sphere. Judgment may serve as a IM AGI NATION . II5 regulative presence, as an arbiter of the particular form the created structure is to assume ; or, in the sphere of taste, it may limit ^^ flight of imagination, may restrain from unsavory and repulsive products ; but imagination will create some "local habitation," some ideal product ; will put forth its creative energy somehow, whether judg- ment and taste be present or not. This distinction is manifest in the products of poesy, painting, oratory and all the spheres of ideal creation. The imagination of a child is sufficiently active, though often unchided by taste or regulated by judgment. It is likewise in the imagin- ing of the insane, the poetaster, the would-be artist, and in delirium. When imagination has bodied forth its ideal forms, the ordinary comparisons and classifications of judgment may be performed as upon any concrete object of sense, or as upon the ideas and truths of intuition. Judg- ment here operates upon the products of imagination and must be distinct from the producing cause of such pro- ducts, distinct from imagination. Reasoning and Imagination, — M the operations of imagination and zipo^t the products of imagination, rea- soning maj/, and usually does, perform its distinct func- tion. In the voluntary phase of imagination, the dispos- ing- and significance of the created products belong to reasoning. Without reasoning, imagination could be nothing but an erratic energy, such as it often is in dreams, insanity and our wandering fancies. While all this is true, we can readily distinguish between the energy of imagination and the energy of reasoning. The two are often associated and the exact character of either energy may depend upon this association ; but all these possibil- ities imply not one, but two energies. Intuition. — Intuition furnishes primary ideas and truths, fundamental notions of time, space, cause, identity, the true, and the beautiful. All these notions limit and 6 Il6 IMAGINATION. modify \hi energy and the products of imagination ; but to limit and to modify presuppose somethiyig to be limited and modified. This something is a product of imagina- tion. Thus we notice again that intuition and imagina- tion are distinct energies, the one implying the other. The ultimate purpose of these faculties is also wholly dif- ferent. All other faculties preseiit, i^epresent, compare, deal with or furnish the true ; but imagination never con- cerns itself with the true, the actual, the necessary, the absolute. Imagination is the power of ideal creation ; it is a distinct power, distinct from every other mental energy. Having noticed imagination in its distinct sphere among the powers of the mind, we are ready to inquire into the exact nature of the process. We shall denote this process of the imagination by the word imagining. What, then, is the exact character and what are the modifications of imagining ? IMAGINATION AND SUGGESTION. Suggestion, — At this point it is proper to notice the law of suggestion in its application to imagining. Sug- gestion renders ideal creation possible. Suggestion, how- ever, does not make the mind a passive receptivity, a re- ceptivi_ty subordinate to something superior in the shape of suggestion. The mind is an originative energy. In its activity it conforms with certain laws of mini. Sug- gestion is a law of mind, and when mind puts forth its creative energy, the imagination finds suggestive sourc- es, — sources adapted to the function of imagination. It is true that there are suggestive materials for the mind to work upon ; but it is also true that these materials have no suggesting power m themselves. Apart from a particu- lar mental energy there would be no suggestion. In IMAGINATION. II7 other words, suggestion is not a power, but a law of mind. As such it is also a law for the imagination. SUGGESTIVE SOURCES FOR IMAGINING. Pive Sense- Apprehensions. — Several mental fac- ulties furnish suggestive sources from which imagina- tion starts out in its operations. Perception furnishes perhaps the mass of this material. Intuition determines the limitations and modifications of imagination ; but what has come in through any sense- gateway is pre-emi- nently a source of suggestion for imagination. All the senses furnish their peculiar products — none is excluded. Sight appears to have the predominant suggestive infiu- ence. Hearing furnishes many suggestions to the imag- ination. But imagination is not confined to these sourc- es. It is true that the eye and ear furnish most suggest- ive materials ; but each sense must bring in its share, as we shall see. A beautiful face readily suggests to the artist an ideal face — a face that may haunt him until he has chiseled it in marble or penciled it on canvas. A simple melody may suggCvSt to a master musician the divine chorus embodied in the oratorios of immortal fame. Raphael and Mozart live in our own soul, and catch for us the inspirations of sight and sound as they come in through vision and hearing. The touch of a hand may thrill the soul into the wildest ecstasy of pure ideal crea- tion ; the touch of a reptile goes shivering through our soul in the fierce hurry of a crazed imagination. We can imagine flavors far more delicious than that of the choicest fruit, and we can imagine fragrance intensely more de- lightful than that of the most precious perfume the world ever experienced. Every one can multiply illustrations under this heading. In the immediate presence of sensi- ble objects, therefore, imagination finds its sources of in- Il8 IMAGINATION. spiration, sources that encourage this faculty to soar into divine domains or into the horrible shadows of the mys- terious evil. Recollection and Recognition, — Memory also furnishes suggestive materials for the imagination. Per- ception and memory might be called preparatory activi- ties in this relation. Perception is a receiving agent and memory a reproducing agent. What perception has gathered into the mind is recalled and recognized in sim- ple representations. These representations incite the im- agination into ideal inspiration ; and under the suggest- ive touch of these old products, the imagination soars into new worlds, constructs its own ideals, modifies the old products into new combinations and dares to create its own new products. The exact transcript of recollection is recognized as a subjective experience ; but the modified transcript and the original creation are cognized as some- thing beyond what perception ever experienced or mem- ory ever recognized. Memory transfers the old man into the domain of the past ; he sees again his child-hood years, hears again his mother's voice, stands again in the active energies of manhood. But imagination transfers the old man into a future ideal world ; he sees his future home , hears angelic voices ; shouts his praises in the presence of sainted beings around God's throne. IMA GIN A TION A T WORK. 62, Imagining may be voluntary or involuntary. The Process, — Unless consciousness furnish the proof that imagining is voluntary, we can not classify it as a faculty properly so called. But we do know that it is a voluntary activity of the mind. We can dispose IMAGINATION. IIQ our mind to the reception of suggestive influence, we can resolve to work out rhetorical figures, we can vol- untarily conceive a "local habitation," we can volun- tarily construct symphonies never heard before by hu- man ear or suug by any choir. It is true that our wan- dering fancies are involuntary, uncalled for, unbidden intruders at times, mysterious presences of which we would gladly rid ourselves if we could ; but it is equally true that carricature, wit, humor, the sublime and the beautiful in oratory, music, literature and other arts, are the direct products of voluntary energy. It would be little less than madness to say that the grand epics of Homer and Milton were involuntary products, the result of impulses upon the mind in a passive, unresisting con- dition. Wherever time and reconstruction and regulation are involved in a mental process, voluntary effort is con- cerned. In our dreams, in superstitious fear, in fanati- cism, in disease, imagination leaps beyond the confines of volition and hurries the soul hither and thither like the tiny boat in an ocean storm ; but in the full possesion of a normal mind, Raphael voluntarily works out his ideal creations, Demosthenes weaves his subtle logic into con- crete forms, Mozart winds his way into our inmost soul, touching every chord with his magic chorus, and Shakes- peare ' 'bodies forth the forms of things unknown and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name." This voluntary effort is always active. Always Active in Its Operation. — It is some- times stated that imagination is passive as well as active. It is claimed that reading a poem or listening to eloquent music implies nothing more than a passive imagination 'upon which the writer or the musician works. Such a distinction seems not to be the result of proper analysis. Perhaps the word receptive and origiiiative indicate more nearly the difference denoted. We might also vSpeak of I20 IMAGINATION. originative and reproductive capacity ; but when we make these distinctions they refer only to degrees of activity. Dore's imagination was certainly active in his ideal ,con- ception of Dante's Inferno, or else he could never have represented Dante's pen-pictures by such suggestive drawings as now accompany the "Inferno." The musi- cian that interprets Beethoven and Bach, touching his own heart with tremendous throbbings and the heart of arf audience with kindred throbbings, can be inferior only to Bach and Beethoven in activity. Reproductive and Productive. — This difference of activity may be denoted by productive and reproduce tive, originative and receptive ; but not by the words ac- tive and passive. The fact that not every one has sufficient ideal power to conceive the Iliad or the Transfiguration is not a proof that such inability is the result of a passive imagination. It means simply that some men have more imagination and some less. The amount is determined by native difference and by cultivation. That this is true, we know from the history of art and from personal prog- ress in literature or oratory or music. Pliilosophic Imagination, — Some writers also speak of a philosophic imagination. If by this they mean creative effoi't of the mind under the impulses of reason and philosophy, we might grant the point ; but if they mean the imagination necessary for the inventor or the scien- tist, we are hardly ready to admit the correctness of the term. The architect conceives a grand structure in the ordinary process of voluntary imagination ; he combines old materials into new combinations, and that is all. The inventor may make a "sacred guess at the truth" ; but this sacred guess is more than a guess — it is a syllogistic stepping from the known to the unknown — it is a search after the true. Imagination proper does not concern itself with the tnie. The scientist conceives hypotheses ; but IMAGINATION. 121 he, too, ivS trying to find the truth. Hypothesis may in- volve ordinary imagination, but it is, in itself, a reflective process. The reflective process does not constitute an ele- ment of the imaginative effort, and hardly justifies the term philosophic imagination. IDEAL PRODUCTS. The products of imagination are of several kinds. These kinds are determined by the presence or absence of old material. The resultant modifications are as vari- ous as the effects of matter and mind can make them. We speak, in the first place, of ideal combinations. Ideal Combinations. — By ideal combinations we mean those products of imagination in which old materi- als of perception and memory are combined into new forms. These new combinations may result from modifi- cations in the following respects : i. Material. 2. Size. 3. Shape. 4. Color. 5. Positio7i, etc. Imagination may construct a palace of rubies and diamonds ; may conceive of a gnat as large as a pea-cock, or a lion as small as a rat. We can imagine the shape of our eyes changed into cubes, or we can think of the hoofs of a horse shaped like a fan. We can imagine a blue orange, a black tooth, a green eye, a purple forest and a red river. We can im- agine the Normal School built upon a mountain peak or floating on a lake. We can imagine a being with eight heads placed one upon each of eight surfaces. Thus it is possible to transform every thing that we have ever known. Ideal Creations, — By new creations we mean pro- ducts merely suggested to the imagination and built up wholly of ideal concepts. These creations are not recol- lections, not copies, not the old. Such creations may in- clude the following : I. Ideal objects. 2. Idealized ob- 122 IMAGINATION. jects. 3. Ideal forms. 4. Ideal events. 5. Ideal char- acters, etc. We can imagine a flower not possessing a?iy quality of known flowers. We can imagine objects made up of materials never known. We can idealize a known object into such divine perfection that the ideal is a wholly new product. The painter conceives an ideal face and figure. It is not a copy ; it is a new product simply sug- gested by some face that the painter had seen. A.11 art, all genuine art, tends to idealize objects until the ideal is a pure creation of the imagination. We can imagine, as we do in Geometry, a transparent solid, a form ethereal, except its bounding lines or surfaces. We can imagine a cube of space thus bounded. The mathematician is con- stantly constructing such ideal forms. Circles, ellipses, cycloids and all the host of mathematical conceptions, are almost wholly ideal forms. The novelist and the poet create ideal evejits. Ben-Hur, I^ucile, Jane Kyre, and Comus, contain many illustrations of ideal events. Every novelist and every poet must deal largely with such events. We can create ideal characters and make them act out an ideal destiny. Shakespeare is the great mas- ter-creator of ideal characters. We almost grasp these characters hy the hand or hear them in their magic elo- quence. Character of Products, — The products differ in loftiness and purity of character. Carricature, wit, hu- mor, the beautiful, the sublime ; — these are successively more lofty and more purely ideal. Carricature has its mission, and has taken a place in political and social spheres. Wit is a teacher, though often as savage as satire or lampoon. Humor spreads a kindly glow over millions of weary hearts and worried brains. The Beau- tiful brings balm and healing ; the Sublime raises human life out of its bare confines into an ideal world of divine IMAGINATION. 123 grandeur. All these products are traceable in hisloiy. We shall presently refer to the mission of the ideal. DRAPERY OF IDEAL PRODUCTS. The creations of imagination, in their solemn grandeur and their lighter fancies, must be vested in sensible drapery. By sensible drapery is meant that the words or means of representing ideal creations must be such as seem to bring the creation into contact with our senses. Sense ^imitations, — Ideal creations of oratory and poetry reach us through the ear and eye. Oratory , poetry, instruction, fiction, painting, music, architecture and sculpture, reach us through eye and ear. Material and Meiital I/imitation. — Since ideal creations must come to us like concrete realities, their drapery is further bounded by the conditions and laws of matter and mind. Imagination is, therefore, bounded by space, time, properties of matter and laws of mind. Space. — We can not imagine no space, we can not im- agine anything beyond space and we can not imagine not anything that does not occupy space. jTime. — We can not imagine anything as occurring outside of time, we can not imagine no time, we can not imagine anything previous to or beyond time. Matter, — Matter has certain essential properties, such as extension, size, figure, density, compressibility, mo- bility and situation. We can not imagine anything as not having extension, size, figure, etc. Mind. — Mind has definite spheres of activity and necessary consciousness, We can not imagine a mind as acting apart from consciousness, we can not imagine a new faculty, though we can imagine the absence of one or more. 6^-^ 124 IMAGINATION. MISSION OF IDEAL CREA TIONS. Imagination raises human life out of its bare confines into a world sublime and beautiful. Practical, — What a dull world ours would be for many a poor mortal, had God not tuned our daily toils with ideal music and touched all with a coloring of the sublime and the beautiful ! Imagination adds inspiration to human life. It elevates us through nature and art ; it makes our mental life a concrete stream. Oratory re- ceives from imagination a persuasive sway that moves a slumbering world. The orator himself is thus enabled to clothe hard logic, abstract truth, in feelings and force that touch the hardest heart. Instruction would be a weary, soul-less plodding, without imagination in the teacher or the pupil. Imagination makes abstract thoughts stand out concrete and thus places unpalatable notions in- to palatable forms. The common school branches can nearly all be more pleasantly taught when imagination is called into active play. Imagination is the soul of paint- ing and sculpture. Through it the artist transforms cold marble and dead colors into a living, breathing creation. Architecture has no flavor, meets no responsive spectator, when imagination has not delicately touched the rough timber into dainty metaphors. Poetry and fiction are without a meaning, lose their essence of the beautiful and sublime imagery when the writer lacks imagination. In- deed, both poetry and fiction are impossible apart from creative energy. Music touched into a living thing by imagination wafts the hearer into the presence of God's throne. Without imagination music is only a lifeless, meaningless voice or tune. The keys must be touched by the finger of the sublime and the beautiful ; it is then that IMAGINATION. 125 a magic magnetism touches voice and hand. God given, divine is this creative faculty ! Personal Ideals and Destiny, — The highest mission of the imagination is beautifully portrayed by Dr. Haven. ' 'Especially is it of value in forming and hold- ing before the mind an ideal of excellence in whatever we pursue, a standard of attainment, practicable and de- sirable, but loftier far than anything we have yet reached. No man ever yet attained excellence, in any art or pro- fession, who had not floating before his mind, by day and by night, such an ideal and vision of what he might and ought to be and to do. It hovers before him, and hangs over him, like the bow of promise and of hope, advanc- ing with his progress, ever rising, and moving onward as he moves ; he will never reach it, but without it he would never be what he is." No man can speak more exactly of the sphere of the creative faculty. "I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls' ' is an ideal of excellence toward which every great soul will struggle with the intensest energies. When this ideal fades out of our vision, then come despair, desolation and the end. DEPRA VI TY OF IMA GIN A TION. Imagination when unrestrained and unhealthy, may infect body and soul with despondency and fanaticism. Sarly Activity, — We have looked upon imagination in her beautiful robes ; but she often comes in a hideous garb of depravity. Of almost angelic beauty in destiny and capacity, .she may become the most vicious of all the mental faculties. The little child is not usually possessed of a sluggish imagination. There is usually an undue energy of imagination in child-life ; and this energy de- 126 IMAGINATION. velops early in life. The little boy rides his ideal horse with a broomstick to make it tangible. The little girl talks to her ideal doll, fondles it with a mother's care and hears the little "dolly" laugh or weep. The dreamy boy is wrapt in sweet melancholy, gazing in upon a world all his own ; and the maiden fair forgets the presence of those around her, in a wrapt gaze upon some ideal crea- tion of her mind. Unhealthy Products, — Kvil suggestions, too, may inspire the child's imagination. It is a terrible thing to permit evil suggestion to incite our imagination. An un- restrained and unhealthy imagination is like a hell in life. The child is driven into hysterical fright under the spur of undue imagination. Hideous spectres follow many a child and man when travelling through some shadowy woods in the dusk of twilight. Ghosts and hob- goblins are the creations of depraved imagination. The inno- cent, blackened stump becomes a horrible monster with devouring jaws and gnashing teeth. The will-o'-the- wisp, that wandering, flickering gas-light, becomes a de- mon pursuing an innocent mortal until in agony, he is robbed of his senses. The dime-novel hero is trans- formed by imagination into a model hero, and the ideal cow-boy leaves his paternal homestead to take his place in the ideal West. The hero and the heroine of drama and tragedy are looked upon by the young girl as lofty ideals for which she often deserts the happy environments of home and friendship, going down perhaps into the slums of sin. Delirium tremens, through the medium of the body, drives imagination into frenzy and seats upon her throne all the wild demons of hell. Deceived by a depraved imagination, a well known scientist compiled a vast religious system, and upon the system is founded a church of considerable membership. Through a depraved imagination even the good Book is made an instrun^ent IMAGINATION. I27 of evil. lycd on by such frenzy, men have felt themselves called upon to offer up their only child in imitation of the "father of faith," or to drive the assassin's dagger into the noblest statesmen of modern times. Imagination yearly lays its thousand victims in the grave of disap- pointed love, failure in business or ambition. Under nervous exhaustion, the imagination often assumes al- most dictatorial authority over us. The medical pro- fession is well acquainted with the effects of a depraved imagination upon the body. We all recall the test made, by the students of a medical school, upon a healthy young farmer. By a conspiracy they succeeded to work upon his imagination until he lay sick unto death. The reve- lation of the plot saved the farmer from actual death. We also recall the test made upon the four Russian con- victs, and the consequence. CUL TIVA TION OF IMA GIN A TION. 66, The elevating influence of a healthy imagination and the deprav- ity of an unhealthy imagination make the cultivation of this facul- ty important. The teacher can find means in nature and art. Cautions, — We should be careful to subordinate the activity of imagination to every other faculty of the mind ; or, at any rate, to keep it on a level with the other facul- ties. When imagination obtains superior sway, perception and memory become untruthful, judgment is clouded, rea- soning is deceived, and intuition is robbed of her mission. The Special Agent, — The special agent for the cultivation of imagination is the teacher of our schools. His mission is cultivation and scholarship. Materials and Means, — Art and nature furnish the proper books. The master- productions in music, or- 128 IMAGINATION. atory, fiction, poetry, painting, sculpture, and architec- ture are to be sought and studied. Nature ever lies an open book when Art refuses admission. Proper perception and recollection are natural preparations. Actual imagin- ing, actual creation, is the proper exercise. The follow- ing enumeration seems to comprehend the proper items for cultivating the imagination. 1. Observing the sublime and beautiful. 2. Recalling the sublime and beautiful. 3. As found in art and nature. 4. Original creations. The last item invites illustration. I^et us take for our subject, "Crossing into the Beyond." A wide, deep and shadowy stream flows rushing by in our vision. A single little boat is struggling across toward the other shore. TheSoul and the boatman, Death, occupy the boat. Si- lent and gaunt they reach the Beyond. The Soul passes out of the boat, and the boatman returns. The Soul enters the rapturous, beautiful world bej^ond. All the sons and daughters of heaven break forth into a beautiful choru of welcome. Like gems and precious jewels, the streets beyond reflect their splendor upon the soul, and in the supremest joy the soul beholds the Master. UNDERSTANDING : PREPARATORY VIEW. 67. The thought-energy of mind is called Understanding. The Understanding is reflective ; its products are ideas and thoughts. Character and Products. — Perception is the mind's furnishing agent ; memory retains exact transcripts of the percepts furnished ; imagination modifies percepts and creates new forms. Tiie Understanding is the work -shop of the mind ; it is a reflective energy ; it turns over the furnished products of perception, memory and imagina- tion, etc. The Understanding works by synthesis and by analysis. It combines necessary parts and tears apart component parts ; it works by combination and separa- tion. The products of the Understanding are ideas and thoughts. Reflection, synthesis, analysis, induction and deduction are the decisive characteristics of the Under- standing. Psychological Mission, — Perception and Intuition may be called the mind's original sources of ideas and truths. Upon these ideas and truths the Understanding opera'tes, shaping and moulding the furnished materials into desirable and useful forms. The Understanding is the mind's great chemical laboratory. 68. The several functions of the understanding are preparatory and ultimate. Preparatory and Ultimate Functions.— AW the functions of the understanding will be found to be preparatory and ultimate. In the study of the memory 130 UNDERSTANDING. it was found that, though there are three logically neces- sary functions, there is only one ultimate function for which the others are preparatory. In the study of the understanding we shall find a similar relation of functions. Though there are five reflective functions, there is one common characteristic of all these functions, namely, COMPARISON. Because of this common characteristic all the functions are included under the one term under- standing. In reality, however, several of these functions differ so essentially that we speak of two faculties of the under- standing. The functions of the former faculty are four in number, and are logically preparatory and ultimate. There is only one function in the latter faculty. 69. The functions of the understanding are direct comparison, ab- straction, generalization, classification, and mediate comparison. TO, Direct comparison is a comparison of two objects without a medium. Direct Comparison. — This function is based upon perceived qualities. Child and man can make direct comparisons. When we look at two peaches we at once notice agreement or disagreement in si2:e or complexion. In this case two objects are compared without a medium, directly upon the basis of like or unlike qualities per- ceived. The purpose of direct comparison is to detect likeness or unlikeness ; to classify according to likeness or unlikeness. Abstraction, — Abstraction will be discussed by and by ; but for the present we remark that abstraction is the process by which the mind forms a notion of qiialities UNDERSTANDING. I3I apart from things ; it is an analytic process. By abstrac- tion we obtain such original notions as kindness, hard- ness, color. Generalization. — Generalization is a synthesis of abstract ideas ; it is the process of mentally uniting all common qualities of a class of objects into one complex notion, such as man, horse, stone. Classification, — Classification is a sorting process in which the mind places together all like objects upon the basis of likeness. If the likeness is mechanical or math- ematical we speak of common classification ; but if the likeness is essential and structural we speak of scientific classification. Book-cases and Botany are examples re- spectively of common and scientific classification. Mediate Comparison. — Mediate comparison differs from direct comparison in nature and purpose. It is based upon relations rather than upon qualities. In mediate comparison only two objects are compared, but the com- parison is made through a related medium. In other words, the comparison is one of relation. Illustration. — A and B are alike by direct compar- ison ; but B and C are also alike by direct comparison ; therefore, because both A and C are like B, we conclude that A must be like C. The final step is mediate com- parison and is based upon a cognition of the relation of likeness. Likeness, or similarity, is a decisive relation in mediate comparison, or Reasoning. The distinctions between direct comparison and mediate comparison are thus summarized : DIRECT COMPARISON VS. MEDIA TE COM- PARISON. Summary. — Direct comparison is based upon per- ceived qualities ; but mediate comparison is based upon 132 UNDERSTANDING. cognized relations. Direct comparison aims to detect agreement or difference ; but mediate comparison aims to arrive at conclusions. Direct comparison implies only two objects ; but mediate comparison implies a third common object. These essential distinctions indicate the existence of two distinct faculties of the understanding. Inference. — From the foregoing investigation we in- fer that there are two distinct reflective powers. To the former we refer the preparatory and final functions of di- rect comparison, abstraction, generalization and classifi- cation ; to the latter we refer mediate comparison. In this connection it is proper to notice that direct compari- son, or Judgment, is involved in all mediate comparison, or Reasoning. The reverse does not hold true. We con- clude finally that the two decisive faculties of the Under- standing are Judgment and Reasoning. D. JUDGMENT. 71- Judgment is that mental faculty by which we compare and clas- sify. It is an active and voluntary power of the mind. General Character. — Direct comparison, abstrac- tion, generalization and classification have been charac- terized as preparatory and ultimate functions of Judgment. The decisive function is direct comparison ; the purpose of direct comparison is to detect likeness or unlikeness. A reason for this detection can be found only in the ultimate process of classification. But classification in its exact sense implies general bases or class-notions ; and hence classification implies generalization, the mental process of conceiving class- notions. But generalization implies con- scious or subconscious abstraction, the mind's process of arriving at first notions of qualities. Illustration. — A child compares two oranges. The child detects likeness or unlikeness ; it classes the oranges according to this likeness or unlikeness. But this classifi- cation implies in the child the general class-notion of an orange ; and this class-notion is the product of generaliza- tion. But if the child has generalized, it has previously abstracted orange qualities : these qualities it now synthe- sizes. DIRECT COMPARISON. Direct comparison is a comparison of two objects. Nature and Domain. — Direct comparison is the synthetic process of noticing two objects in proximity, in 134 JUDGMKNT. order to detect their agreement or difference. The domain of comparison is a practical one, leading to the sorting or classifying processes of daily life. We began to compare objects upon the basis of perceived qualities when we were quite young ; and we will continue to compare men, things and thoughts as long as life shall last. Process and Basis. — In the basket before me are a dozen specimens of luscious fruit. I pick out an attractive specimen, taste it, and am delighted. I want all similar specimens, but cannot for some time see another specimen of like color ; I look from the tasted one to others in suc- cession, in order to detect agreement of color and perhaps shape. This is direct comparison ; it is a synthetic pro- cess, and is based upon perceived qualities. The classifi- cation or selection may be faulty unless a sufficiently large number of perceived qualities formed the basis of compari- son. 73' The design of direct comparison is the detection of likeness oi unlikeness. Design of Direct Comparison, — In the process just described no selection was made until, by direct com- parison, two objects were found to agree in assumed re- spects. In other words, the cognition of agreement or disagreement was preparatory to selection, to classifica- tion. The direct comparisons of practical life are often based upon too few perceived qualities. In such cases we speak of a faulty judgment, and blame its possessor. Illustration. — Two men pass us in a crowded street. We know that the one is a rascal ; but the other is like him in complexion, size, and speech. We classify this other man in the class of rascals. The classification is wrong because the direct comparivSon was wrong. We JUDGMENT . 135 buy a basket of nuts. A number of them are by direct comparison found to agree in color ^ form, and weight. We select all these and class them into a box ; we do so be- cause the one we tried had the same color, form, and weight. Our selection is often likely to include several bad nuts. 74' Direct comparison is a preparation for common classification. Direct Comparison Preparatory. — The common classifications of practical life are based upon direct com- parison. Common classification differs from scientific classification in that the former is imperfect, superficial, hasty. We arrange the books in our library according to detected agreement in size or coior ; we sort our water- melons and apples on the basis of presumed ripeness. In other words, direct comparison is the basis of common classification. Illustrations should be added. The proximity of objects compared makes direct comparison a synthetic process. Proximity and Synthesis, — When two objects are compared, we do not separate the two objects from each other, but we bring them into the closest possible proxim- ity. This proximity makes the resemblance or contrast more striking to perception. For this reason we say that direct comparison is a synthetic process. Two books, two flowers, two thoughts, two ideas, two facts, two ideals, two sentiments, are more striking in their resemblance or contrast in proportion to the proximity of the two things compared. When we compare a percept with a concept- the same condition is necessary. The concept is mental, 136 JUDGMENT. ly placed near the percept, and then the process of com- parison is readily performed. The memory -tree of my childhood years is placed side by side with the percept- tree in my view at this moment, and the condition of direct comparison is fulfilled. Two percepts are thus compared and two concepts likewise. The percept- plum is thus compared with the percept- peach and found to disagree in several respects. The concept- Comus is thus compared with the concept- Ariel, and is found to disagree in a number of characteristics. This necessary condition of proximity makes 'direct com- parison a synthetic process. 76. Direct comparison results in thoughts and propositions. Products of Direct Comparison, — A thought is the combination of at least two related ideas. A thought is also called a judgment. A thought expressed in words is called a proposition. An idea is a simple notion ; it may be stated in a single word or a phrase, as poet or at his home. Direct comparison always results in thoughts. Illustration. — Having the general idea of poet, we com- pare Tennyson with this general idea and find agreeme?it. Quick as said, the classification follows, TKnnyson is a POET. Direct comparison based upon generalization and abstraction thus constitutes the main source of language. The possibility of language depends upon man's power to form thoughts and propositions. 77' Direct comparison is always involved in mediate comparison, or Reasoning. Direct Comparison Involved in Reasoning, — In mediate comparison, or reasoning, the mind passes JUDGME^NT. 137 from one proposition to another related proposition and thus arrives at a necessary conclusion. Hence reasoning involves three propositions, two related propositions and one resultant proposition. In other words, reasoning in- volves direct comparison in the formation of its premises and in its conclusions. Illustration. Poets make sublime and beautiful verse ; But Milton makes sublime and beautiful verse ; Hence Milton is a poet. In this illustration are found three thoughts, three propositions, three judgments. The process of deriving the third proposition from the related premises is mediate comparison, because Milton and Poets are compared, not directly but through a third term. This third term is the phrase sublime and beautiful verse. Each proposition or thought was primarily the result of direct comparison. In other words, direct comparison is always involved in mediate comparison, or reasoning. ABSTRACTION. 78. Abstraction is the analytic acquiring of our first notion of pure quality. Nature and Domain. — Objects of sense-perception are known as having certain qualities. As long as we know these qualities i?i the object, the quality is a con- crete or percept- quality. But when we have acquired a notion of a quality apart from its association with this or that object, the quality may be called piire quality, ab- stract quality. Our Jirst notion of any quality is a pure abstract idea ; this first notion of any quality is thorough- ly particular ; it is the product of abstraction. Abstrac- 138 JUDGMKNT. tion, as we notice, is an analytic acquiring of a quality- idea. The mind separates a quality from its concrete con- nection with a particular thing, and makes the quality an object of thought. Quality-ideas, such as are named in adjectives and absti'-act nouns^ are pure abstract ideas only when we first acquire them. All these notions be- come general in our second experience. Illustratiori of Absti^adion. — A plum lies on the table before us ; we have never seen a plum before this moment. Our first definite notion of plum- color apart from its con- crete existence in this particular plum is a pure abstract idea. The mental process involved in acquiring this idea was analytic and is known as abstraction. Every one is constantly performing abstractions in learning new quali- ty-ideas. Relation of Abstraction to Perception,— Omv first knowledge of mother- kindness, iron-hardness, glass- brittleness, etc., is a concrete knowledge ; we do not think of these qualities apart from perception, apart from moth- er, iron, glass. Even when we remember these qualities they at first are concrete and at once suggest the object in which they were experienced ; but as soon as we make any quality a distinct object of thought and no longer as- sociate the quality with a particular object, or indeed with any object, so soon the quality- notion has become really abstract. The idea is not usually an image, but rather a notion, a distinct or indistinct notion, an impression that may be indefinable, yet a something real, a conscious or sub-conscious mental representation of some quality. Analytic Character, — Abstraction is an analytic process because the quality in question must be drawn away from all objects ; the disembodied quality is set free from its concrete home in an object. Gradually all abstract notions become general, and include various shades and JUDGMENT. 139 degrees ; but at first the quality- notion is thoroughly j^ar- ticular in its origin. This may be said of such notions as plum-color, courtesy, kindness. 79. The product of an abstraction is the particular idea of one defi- nite quality, such as plum-color. The Product and Its Character. — The idea that results from a single abstraction is called a pure ab- stract. A pure abstract is a particular idea — a mental representation of only one definite quality and only a sin- gle phase of that quality. A pure abstract is the mind's first notion of any quality. A pure abstract may be con- sidered as one iota of a general idea. Originally the pure abstract is thoroughly particular ; but it soon becomes a general idea. Illustration. — We have a notion of plum-color. This notion is a general idea now — a mental representation of color as found in a class of plums. This general idea is now a concept, con and capio, a combination-product ; it includes all the shades of plum-color in our experience. But our first notion of plum-color was not a combination of plum-color shades ; it was the definite notion of a defi- nite quality mentally represented apart from its concrete existence in a plum. This pure abstract became the^^rw of successive abstractions — a process called generaliza- tion. 80. An abstract is real when taken from an object of sense-per- ception. Real and Ideal Abstraction.— The abstract^ /<«^^- brittleness is not a product of fancy ; it is real and inde- 7 I40 JUDGME^NT. struct! ble. A man might not again, after his first ab- straction of glass-brittleness, see glass and yet might have an actual mental possession. This mental possession, this notion of glass-brittleness is as real as glass itself and its qualities. The idea of glass-brittleness is a real some- thing. If, however, the abstract idea is one drawn from an ideal concept, it is not more real than the idea from which it has been drawn. We may, for example, have a definite notion of Miranda's innocence ; but we can point to no historical, real Miranda. Hence the abstract Miranda' s initocence is a mere figment of fancy — not more real than Miranda. A pure abstract differs from an abstract concept. Pare Abstract vs. Abstract Concept. — A pure abstract is absolutely particular ; was originally de- rived from a single object and refers only to that object. Thus the pure abstract mother-kind7iess was derived from a particular mother, and, in the child's mind this abvStract can refer to only one mother. As the child-mind matures, it augments the germ- idea with the kindness of other mothers until mother-kindness is a concept. A concept is a combination product. The idea is still abstract ; but it has become general by a sub- conscious synthesis. The product differs from the original one in this that it is no longer strictly, absolutely particular. Our present notion of mother- ki^idness has a greater content of quality-shades — it has become a veritable concept. It is still abstract because it is a combination of pure abstract ideas and because it is the result of successive abstrac- tions ; it is a concept because it is a union of abstracts. Abstract concepts are \\\.^n g enteral ideas of qualities, and a JUDGMENT. 141 pure abstract differs from such general ideas in conte7tt of quality-shades. All our ideas of qualities as denoted by adjectives and abstract nouns were originally pure ab- stracts ; but all have probably become abstract concepts. Abstraction is thus found to be involved in generaliza- tion, to constitute its successive steps, its germ and its growths. Every abstract concept originated from a pure abstract. Destiny of Pure Abstracts, — The abstract notions hardness, justice, peace, friendship, purity, etc., have be- come, at least to adults, abstract concepts ; but in the mental experience of every person these general notions were once absolutely particular in content and reference. Every one must have made as many original abstractions as he now has general notions of qualities. The process by which a pure abstract becomes an abstract concept is sub-conscious and mysterious. We know that we have these ideas, but can not tell the moment when they first came to us. No pure abstract remains so unless mental experience ends with some particular abstraction. 83. We obtain a pure abstract by a single abstraction. Origin of a Pure Abstract. — A plum on the table has a particular y^rw. My first notion of this form apart from its concrete existence, is a pure abstract. The pro- cess by which the idea comes to my mind is abstraction, a drawing away of a quality from its object. All subse- quent abstractions from other plums are steps of general- ization. 142 JUDGMENT. 84. Sub-conscious or conscious abstraction precedes generalization. Relation of Abstraction to Generalisation. — Generalization is a synthesis of successive abstracts. Generalization and abstraction are so momentary in their energies that we can hardly detect their relation. But when our notion of any quality is analyzed, it is found to be complex — a product of sub -conscious or conscious and remembered combinations. This is true of all such ideas as justice, beauty, kindness, excellence, hardness, sweet- ness, friendship. We must then conclude that abstrac- tions are the first steps and the successive steps in gener- alization. A dozen different plums may thus occasion a dozen distinct abstractions ; but the synthetic uniting of each resultant abstract is generalization proper. Sub- conscious or conscious abstraction often precedes direct comparison and always precedes scientific classification. GENERALIZA TION. Generalization is a synthesis of abstracts into a complex con- cept. Nature and Domain, — Generalization follows ab- straction, and abstraction furnishes the materials for gen- eralization. The separate results of successive abstrac- tions gradually become a complex and general concept. The process of thus uniting separate and particular shades of meaning into one complex and general idea is called generalization or conception. Conception is really the better name ; but to avoid confusion, the term generaliza- tion is here used. The product of a generalization is pro- perly called a concept JUDGMENT. 143 Illitstration of Generalization. — Iron-hardness, ice-hard- ness, chalk-hardness, wood- hardness, lead-hardness, etc., were originally abstracts, particular notions representa- tive of single degrees of hardnKvSvS. Generalization united, gathered, combined, synthesized, fused these sep- arate notions, these abstracts, into a complex and general idea. This idea of hardness is now no longer simple ; it has become complex ; it is a concept. The process may have been conscious, sub-conscious or even unconscious mental energy. It must have been a synthesis. All our ideas of qualities are thus put together by synthesis. 86, Generalization is the proper basis of comparison and classifi- cation. Generalization a Basis of Comparison, — Di- rect comparison, as we have seen, is often based w^on per- ceived and concrete characteristic. The resultant classifi- cation, if not faulty, is at least mechanical and superficial. If direct comparison is based upon concepts of generaliza- tion, the result is likely to be far more satisfactory. This must be so because the concepts of generalization, since they are the product of synthesis, are matitred bases. The classifications resultant from such a direct compari- son are based upon intrinsic and essential characteristics. Ilhistration.-^WhQn we compare berries upon the basis of the perceive! and concrete characteristic color, or form, or weight, the resultant selection is likely to disappoint us. But when we compare berries upon the basis of a concept of generalization, a concept resultant from wide experi- ence, a concept representative of many separate selections of berries, then the resultant classification is likely to please us. The latter is a result realized in classifications of inductive science. In ordinary comparison percepts I'44 JUDGMENT. are sufficiently reliable as bases ; but in scientific com- parison and its classification the mature concepts of gen- eralization are the only proper bases. 87. The two results of generalization are abstract concepts and concrete concepts. Abstract and Concrete Concepts. — A concept is a general idea. It is called a general idea because it is the product of generalization and because it is general in its extent over spechneyis, A general idea is always a concept, representing either a number of quality- degrees or a number of concrete objects. When the general idea represents a number of quality-degrees, the idea is called an ABSTRACT CONCEPT. But when the general idea can be approximately realized in a number of objects of sense- perception, the idea is called a concrktk conckpt. Ad- jectives and abstract nouns denote abstract concepts ; or- dinary nouns denote concrete concepts. The concrete concept is wider in content of quality- degrees than the abstract concept ; the concrete concept can always be ap- proximately realized in sense -objects. The abstract con- cept can never be realized in the concrete, has no con- crete existence in any particular sense-object. Our con- notion of friendship, elasticity, goodness, etc. , are abstract cepts ; our notion of horse, rose, plum, quadruped, star, animal, plant, etc, are concrete concepts. Bach concrete concept is a synthesis of as many distinct gen- eralizations as there are vSeparate qualities, such as color, form, size. JUDGMENT. 145 88. An abstract concept is the general idea of a quality cognized apart from its concrete existence in a sense-object. Formation of an Abstract Concept. — The ab- stract concept color, for example, is a general idea ; it represents various shades of color. The quality color is to be cognized apart from its concrete existence in a7iy sense- object. A synopsis showing the contents of the color-idea will make the matter plainer. THE COLOR-IDEA. 1. PURPLE. II. BLUE. III. GREEN. IV. YELLOW. Y. ORANGE. VI. RED. J. Lilac. I. Prussian, i. Olive. i. Lemon. i. Amber. i. Scarlet. 2. Lavender. 2. Indigo. 2. Emerald. 2. Canary. 2. Orange, a. Crimson. 3. Violet, etc. 3. Sky, etc. 3. Pea, etc. 3. Straw, etc. 3. Cream, etc 3. Pink, etc. The synopsis represents many of the original abstracts, such as violet, indigo, emerald, straw, cream, and pink. The synopsis also represents the yiarrow abstract concepts PuRPivE, B1.UE, Grekn, YklIvOW, Orangk, and Red. The latter are the results of primary generalizations ; each concept, such as Purple, is a synthesis of many shades of Purple. Finally the general notions Purpi^e, Blue, etc., are synthesized into a wider general idea, a wider abstract concept. It is still an abstract concept, but it has greater content. 89. We obtain an abstract concept by camparison, analysis and synthesis. Obtaining an Abstract Concept. — How do we obtain such an abstract concept as color or kindness ? By comparison, analysis, and synthesis. Synthesis is the 146 JUDGMKNT. decisive thing in generalization. The concrete sense-ob- jects, in which we fifst noticed color or experienced kind- ness, furnish the occasions for comparison. Likeness or unlikeness in color or kindness determined the definite no- tion of that particular color or of that particular kindness. The quality- degrees successively cognized apart from their concrete existence were drawn away from the sense- object ; this process is that of ^;^(2/)/5^^. The putting to- gether of successive abstracts was the actual synthesis ; it was the decisive thing in the formation of our color-idea and of our kindness-idea. go. Lower and higher generalizations result in narrower and wider concepts. Nature and Products of hower and Higher Generalization, — Lower generalization is the concep- tion of fewer experienced quality- degrees ; and higher generalization is the conception of more such quality- de- grees. Lower generalization develops into higher gener- alization with our mental maturity. The products are re- spectively narrower and wider in content of quality -de- grees. The Purple-idea is narrower than the full Color- idea. 91, A concrete concept is the combination-idea of all the qualities common to a class of objects. Character and Content of a Concrete Con- cept, — A dozen pears in our basket may differ a little in size, shape, color, taste and weight. The thought-pear of my mind represents all the qnalities common to these pears. The thought-pear need, however, not represent JUDGMKNT. 147 the exact size, shape or color of any individual pear. This thought-pear is, therefore, not a particnlar notion. It is a combination-product. It is a general idea, a general notion, a general represention of all the properties com- mon to a class of objects. The same can be said of all our concepts of objects. We call such concepts concrete ; because, with some trifling modification of qualities, the concept can be realized in any particular object of the class. Any object of the class can be referred to as a kind of concrete type — an actual, real object from which, by generalization, this thought-pear, this abstract con- cept, this general idea, this combination-notion was de- rived. We obtain a concrete concept by comparison, analysis and syn- thesis. The synthesis is called generalization. Derivation and Naming of Concrete Con- cepts, — Our basket contains a quart of berries. There are perhaps a dozen kinds of berries in our basket, each kind different in taste, weight, size, color, and shape. Every berry of each class may, by direct comparison, be found to differ a little from its neighbor ; and some re- semblance may be noticed in berries belonging to a dif- ferent class. Bach particular quality that is detected may become the basis of direct comparison. In a very short time a number of qualities have thus been detected and made the bases of comparison. Perhaps the only motive for continued direct comparison was to find all the berries that had a particularly pleasing taste. This does not al- ter our illustration. A clear notion of each quality as first detected is a pure abstracf. All the qualities conunon to the berries of one class are thus successively or even si- multaneously abstracted. These abstractions constitute 7* 148 JUDGMENT. a successive or a simultaneous analysis, A successive or simultaneous synthesis of the abstracts now follows. This synthesis is (idXi. < ^^ ^^o ^ W ..•• '•:,, CO J S UB-CONTRARIE S Q Tlie contraries, sub -contraries, sub-alterns and contra- dictories are so named from the relation of propositions to each other and to a possible conclusion. I^ogicians notice certain unalterable relations and call these relations I.AWS OF OPPOSITION. LA WS OF OPPOSITION. 103. 1. Two contraries may both be false, and only one can ever be true. 2. Two sub-contraries may both be true, and only one can ever be false. 3. If the universal sub-altern is true, the particular sub-al- tern is true ; but even if the particular sub-altern is true, the universal sub-altern may be false. 4. One of two contradictories must be true, and the other must be false. REASONING. 161 Illustrations of Opposition. J. All men are fallible (A). Then the contrary, E, can never be true, a Some men are wis« (I). Some men are not wise (O). Both true. 2. Some men are wise ([). Some men are not wise (O). Only one can be false. 3. All men are fallible (A). Some men are fallible (I). I is also true. 3. No man is infallible (E). Some men Are not infallible(O). O is also true. 3. Some men are fallible (1). A may or may not be false. 3. Some men are notwise(O). E may or may not be false. 4. All men are fallible (A). O must be false. 4. No man is infallible (E). I must be false. It is by all means important for debaters and thinkers to understand the effect of two propositions, one a pre- mise and the other a conclusion. The same predicate in both propositions, as A and E, is needed to show the effect. LA WS OF THE SYLLOGISM. 104, 1. Every syllogism must have three terms and only three. 2. Every completed syllogism has three propositions and only three. 3. The middle term must be distributed in at least one premise. 4. The middle term must never be equivocal. 5. A term not distributed in either premise must not be dis- tributed in the conclusion. 6. No conclusion follows from two negative premises. 7. If one premise is negative, the conclusion must be negative. 8. No conclusion follows from two particular premises. g. If one premise is particular, the conclusion must be par- ticular. These laws of the syllogism are called laws, because they are the statements of inviolable principles of thought. They grow out of the relation of propositions as already indicated. The student should commit and use these laws until he is a practical master of the syllogism. It is best to explain each law and illustrate each law. I. Every syllogism must have three terms and onlj^ three. l62 RKASONING. Illustration. All men are mortals ; Paul is a man ; Paul is a mortal. The three terms are All 7nen, Paid and mortal. Paul is the minor term ; man is the middle term ; mortal is the major term. The minor term and the major term are compared through the middle. There can not be less than three terms ; for then there could be no mediate comparison, no reasoning. There can not be more than three terms ; for then there would be no middle term and, of course, no mediate comparison. The middle term is not often stated in the same words in both prem- ises ; because in one premise the term is distributed and in the other premise it is undistribtited. The middle term can be readily found by selecting the term not used in the conclusion. In a typical syllogism the middi^b term is the subject of the major premise and is distributed, as all men ; it is also the predicate of the minor premise and is then undistributed, as man. Each term is used twice in every completed syllogism. 2, Every completed syllogism has three propositions and only three. Ilhistration. All men are mortals ; Paul is a man ; Paul is a mortal. By a completed syllogism is meant the formal state- ments necessary for mediate comparison. Reasoning, in its logical forms, requires the formal, completed syllo- gism. This is composed of three propositions and only three. Two propositions would not fully state the medi- ate comparison of reasoning. Four propositions would require four terms instead of three. This, we have seen, would not leave us a middle term with which to compare REASONING. 163 our minor and maj or terms. In ordinary thinking a com- pleted syllogism is quite rare. 3. The middle term must be distributed in at least one premise. Illustration, All men are mortals ; Paul is a man ; Paul is a mortal. A term is distributed when it is used in its fullest sense. The subject of the major premise above is dis- tributed, because it is used in its fullest sense — all men, not some men. Such words as all and every often indi- cate whether a term is distributed ; but sometimes we must tell from the sense of the statement or from the sense of the term used, whether the term is distributed or un- distributed. In the minor premise the middle term, a man, is not distributed, because it is not used in it fullest sense. The articles a and the, the words some, several, few and the like, often indicate the quantity of a term. The above syllogism is valid ; because a man is included in all men ; and it is only another way of saying that what is true of the whole is true of all its parts. Deduc- tive reasoning and mathematical demonstration are based on the same axiom, or principle of thought. This syllo- gism may be called analytic, because it proceeds from the whole to a part. It ma3^ be called deductive, because it proceeds from the more general to the less general — from the universal to the particular. The middle term in mathematical reasoning is often distributed in both premises. Illustration. (A+B4-C)=DXE; (14-5+50)^(2x28); .•.(A+B+C)=(l+5-}-50). 4. The middle term must never be equivocal, 8 164 REASONING. Illustration. Nothing is heavier than lead ; Feathers are heavier than nothing ; Feathers are heavier than lead. The illustration is given by Haven, and, though old, serves our purpose better than anything else. The word equivocal means ambiguous. The word nothing is equivo- cal in the above syllogism, because it is used with two different meanings. This actually gives us four terms instead of three. For this reason the equivocal middle has the same effect as four terms : there is no middle term, and therefore no mediate comparison — no reasoning. 5. A term not distributed in either premise must not be distributed in the conclusion. Illustration. All horses are quadrupeds ; No camel is a horse ; No camel is a quadruped. In this illustration the word quadrupeds in the major premise is undistributed. It does not mean that horses constitute all quadrupeds, but that horses are some quad- rupeds. The major term quadruped is not used in the sense of all quadrupeds, as if there were no other quad- rupeds except horses. In the conclusion the word quadruped is used in its fullest sense, meaning the whole class of quadrupeds. The violation of a distributed mid- dle results in a false conclusion. 'llhistratio7i. New Yorkers are Americans ; Philadelphians are Americans ; Philadelphians are New Yorkers. In this illustration the word Americans is not distrib- uted, is not used in its fullest sense. The word does not mean all Americans, but some Americans. In the minor premise the same is true ; the word signifies some REASONING. 165 Americans. The force of the two premises is as if some one said, ' 'A foundation is a part of a house ; and the roof is a part of the same house". This would not mean that a roof was the foundation, or that the foundation was the roof. The idea becomes clear when we think of a large square containing two or more smaller squares. The smaller squares are parts of the larger square ; but one of these squares is not necessarily equal to the other, — not adjacent, or identical, or of the same nature. I^ater on we shall see that the above violation is a case of two particulars, and for that reason, an invalid case. A com- mon illustration of an undistributed middle is : Blue is a color ; Green is a color ; Green is blue. Of course, we know that this conclusion is false ; but if the things compared were unfamiliar things, the syllo- gism would readily deceive many a reader. This is evi- dently a false conclusion, because it is predicating too much. It is saying that for which there was no guaran- tee. How did the term quadruped become universal or distributed in the conclusion ? Answer : The minor pre- mise is a universal negative, and as such, shuts out all camels from the class called quadrupeds. This is an er- ror usually easy to detect unless the syllogism is involved by modality. 6. No conclusion follows from two negative premises. Illustration. No man is infallible ; No angel is a man. ( ). In the above illustration there is no agreement of major and minor terms, and therefore no conclusion. We can not tell from the premises whether an angel is fallible or infallible, because the premises are not at all related. l66 RE^ASONING. Nothing can be deduced from premises that have no rela- tion. The thought is easy ; to explain is difficult. 7. If one premise is negative, the conclusion must be negative. Illustration. No man is infallible ; Paul is a man ; Paul is not infallible. The illustration is easily understood. It is the same as if in mathematics we should say, ' 'Two things separately not equal to a third thing, are not equal to each other." There is no agreement between no man and a man. The two thoughts are contradictory. 8. No conclusion follows from two particulars. Illustration. Some men are rich ; Paul is a man ; ( )• Paul may not belong to the some men of the major premise, and therefore not be rich. He may belong to the some, and therefore be rich. From the premises we can not tell, because we do not know whether Paul is a part of the whole. The thought is the same as if we should make a large square and place in it two smaller squares either without or within each other. Paul may be within or without the some men. Another Illustration. Some men are not rich ; Paul is a man ; ( ). We can not tell whether Paul is rich or not rich, be- cause we do not know whether he belongs to the some men. Sub -contraries may be false or true. REASONING. 167 Another Illustration. Some metals are not heavy ; Some medals are not metals ; ( )• 9. If one premise is particular, the conclusion must be particular. Illustration. All men are mortals ; Paul is a man ; Paul is a mortal. Since Paul is one of the all men — a part of the whole — he is included in whatever is affirmed of all men. Since Paul is a man, one man, he can not be equal \.o all men, the whole. Since the major premise asserts agreement between the terms all men and mortals, and since the term all men and a man do not agree in extent, the con- clusion can not be like the major premise, that is, can not be universal. If the conclusion were universal, it would be the same as saying that a part was equal to the whole. Another Illustration. No men are infallible ; Paul is a man ; Paul is not infallible. The laws of the syllogism rest upon laws of thought, and these laws of thought can not be annihilated. They are axiomatic ; and, when we try to prove them, the proof is far more complex than the simple underlying thought. When any one can not comprehend the laws of thought, we can not reason with him at all. ORIGIN OF THE LA WS OF THE SYLLOGISM. 105, The validity of a lawful syllogism is based upon the unive r- sal laws of thought : i. Identity. 2. Contradiction. 3. Excluded Middle. 4. Cause and Effect. l68 RKASONING. X. I/RW of Identity, — The notion indicated by the law of identity is that of equivalence. Whatever is, is. The parts or qualities composing anything are, in a sum- mary equivalent or constitutive of the thing in question. A man is himself, not some one else. He is identical with no one else. He is himself and that is all. No whole thing is equivalent to any of its parts taken alone. 2, I/aw of Contradiction, — The notion indicated by this law is that "nothing can both be and not be" at the same time or place. A plum can not be sweet and not-sweet at the same time. It must be either sweet or not-sweet. A house can not stand in a place, and at the same time not stand in that place. A man can not be good and not-good at the same moment. Water can not be cold and not-cold to the same touch at the same mo- ment. When degree or quantity is applied to this distinc- tion, as in qualities or in Geometry, great caution is neces- sary. 3, I^aw of Excluded Middle, — The notion indi- cated by this law is that "everything must either be ^rnot be' ' so and so. The notion is not the same as ' 'nothing can both be and not be' ' at the same time, etc. That a door can not be both shut and open at the same moment, is an illustration of the latter ; that a door must be either in one house or the other house, is an illustration of the for- mer law. We say that rubber is either elastic or not- elastic ; it must be one of the two. A man is either an animal or not an animal. He can not "both be and not be", nor can he both be and not be a7i animal at the same moment. Every thing must be one thing or the other when we ask a question to be answered by yes or no. A man will either shoot or not shoot, die or not die, eat or not eat at the same moment. This law is so self-evident that child and man act upon it long before a logical ex- planation could be given. It lies at the basis of the va- re;asoning. 169 lidity of a syllogism ; it determines the relation of opposed propositions, and makes it possible to think in absolutely valid syllogisms. 4, haw of Cause and Effect, — The notion indi- cated by this law is that "nothing finite is uncaused", that every eiFect must have a cause. The law underlies every syllogism. No premises could be found causative antecedents to a consequent conclusion without this uni- versal notion. The notion may be intuitive or acquired ; but whether or not it is, we need not discuss at this point. We do know that all the phenomena in our experience are regarded either as cause or effect. This conclusion follows from the principle that "everything must either be or not be" a cause or an effect. Cause and Effect are opposite poles. If a thing is not a cause, it is an effect. This is the same as to say that a thing is either a cause or a not- cause ; an effect or a not- effect. Upon this law are based all the great conclusions drawn from design as manifested in creation and the preservation of the world. Through this law of thought we look from the finite creature to the infinite Creator. The law of cause and effect is the implied supposition upon which we base any conclusion as soon as we notice the relation of premises. MANY KINDS OF SYLLOGISMS. Inductive and Deductive Syllogisms. — When we proceed from the more general to the less general or to the particular, our syllogism is deductive. The de- ductive syllogism is the typical form of logical reasoning. Illustration. All men are mortals ; Paul is a man ; Paul is a mortal. When we proceed from the less general to the more gen- lyo REASONING. eral, our syllogism is inductive. In the deductive syllo- gism we evolve ; but in the inductive syllogism we involve. In the former we proceed from the wide known to the narrow included part. In the latter we infer from the known to the unknown. Illustration. X, Y, and Z can be melted ; X, Y, and Z represent all metals ; All metals can be melted. Both forms of syllogism are valid. The former is valid, because it is based on necessary truths ; the latter is valid when the second premise, as in the illustration, is a true proposition. The deductive syllogism is demonstrative in its proof ; the inductive syllogism is probable, or moral. Analytic and Synthetic Syllogisms. — A syllo- gism may degin with its conclusion or ^;z^ with its conclu- sion. The former is the analytic syllogism ; the latter, the synthetic syllogism. These names have been given by Hamilton. The analytic syllogism is the more com- mon and perhaps the more natural, as will be seen from the illustrations : Paul is a mortal ; All men are mortals ; For he is a man ; Paul is a man ; And all men are mortals. Paul is mortal. The former is analytic ; the latter, synthetic. The an- alytic syllogism is so called, because, after stating the conclusion, the riiind a7ialyzes the conclusion into its caus- ative premises. The synthetic syllogism is so called, be- cause it synthesizes causative premises into a consequent conclusion. Order of Premises. — It is immaterial in any syllogism whether the major or the minor premise is stated first. The order of premises has nothing to do with the validity of the syllogism. It is, however, important to know which is the major premise and which is the minor prem- REASONING. 171 ise. This, as we have seen, can be readily determined by observing which premise contains the minor term and which contains the major term. Completed and Non- Completed Syllogisms, Illustrations. I. All men are mortals ; II. Paul is a mortal, Paul is a man ; Because all men are mortals. .-.Paul is a mortal. ( ). A syllogism is completed when the three necessary prop- ositions are expressed, as in the first illustration. A syllogism is non-completed when one premise is not ex- pressed. Of course, the premise is necessary in thought and can be readily stated by any one. In the second il- lustration, the minor premise has been omitted. This premise is readily found by examining the conclusion and the given premise. The subject of the conclusion, Paul, is the minor term. This must be the subject of the miss- ing premise. The predicate of the conclusion is mortal, a particular term. If the conclusion is particular, the missing premise must be particular by law 9. Hence, the predicate of the missing premise must be mortal. The premise must read : Paul is a man. Such a non-com- pleted syllogism is called an e7ithymeme. This word means in and mind, in the mind, referring to the fact that the unstated premise is in the mind, though not expressed. The enthymene is more common in ordinary thinking than the completed syllogism. It is indicated by such words as because, therefore. Categorical and Hypothetical Syllogisms, — Illustrations. I. All good men are happy ; II. If all good men are happy ; Paul is a good man ; And ij Paul is a good man ; .-. Paul is a happy man. Then, Paul is a happy man. A categorical syllogism affirms or denies directly, un- conditionally. The premises are in the indicative mood. 8* 172 RKASONING. A hypothetical syllogism affirms or denies indirectly, con- ditionally. The premises are in the subjunctive mood. Pure and Modal Syllogisms, — Illustrations : I. Good men are happy ; II. Good men are neaj'ly always happy ; Paul is a good man ; Paul is a good man ; .-. Paul may nearly always .-. Paul is a happy man. be a happy man. A syllogism is pure when all the copulas are unmodified. The first illustration is a pure syllogism. A syllogism is modal when some copulas are modified, as in the second illustration. Adverbs, adverbial phrases, or adverbial clauses may be the modifiers. The modal syllogism abounds in all thought, whether it be the novel or the book on I/Ogic. The modified subjects and predicates of the syllogism, together with the modified copulas, keep the eye from noticing the thousand syllogisms in ordinary speech and writings. figured and UnAgured Syllogisms. — The mid- dle term of any syllogism may occupy four different po- sitions in the two premises. It may be the subject or predicate of the major premise ; and it may be the sub- ject or predicate of the minor premise. The position of the middle term in a syllogism determines the figure, as it has been called, of the syllogism. Since there are four possible positions for the middle term, there are four pos- sible figures. Aristotle and Hamilton do not recognize the fourth figure. Hamilton calls the fourth possible figure a "logical caprice". Illustrations. I. Good men are happy ; II. Happy are good men ; Paul is a good man ; Paul is a good m,a.n ; .-. Paul is a happy man. .-. Paul is a happy man. III. (Jood men are happy ; IV. Happy bxq, good men : A good man is Paul ; A good man is Paul ; .-. Paul is a happy man. .-.Paul is a happy man. REASONING. 173 The first figure makes the middle term the subject of the major premise and the predicate of the minor prem- ise. The second figure makes the middle term the pred- icate of both major and minor premises. The third figure makes the middle term the subject of the major and minor premises. The fourth figure makes the middle term the predicate of the major, and the subject of the minor premise. An unfigured syllogism is one in which the two terms of each proposition are equivalent i7i qua?i- tity. Such an equivalence may be secured by modifying any given term of a proposition. The 7iamc of such a syllogism and this kirid of a syllogism in pure logic orig- inated with Hamilton. In mathematics this unfigured syllogism is quite frequent. Illustrations of the Unfigured Syllogisms. I, All men are aome mortals ; A := B ; Paul and John are mme men ; B = C ; .-. Paul and John are Home mortals. .-.A = C. In the figured syllogisms the position of the middle term will affect the truth or falsity of the conclusion. In the unfigured syllogism change of position of the terms will not at all affect the conclusion. So much depends on the figure of a syllogism, that we should understand the force of each figure in all its valid moods. Of course, this topic belongs to logic proper, and we can merely no- tice the thought involved. By the moods of a figure are meant various ways of composing the syllogism of any figure. There are 1 1 times 4 or 44 possible moods, but only about 19 or 24 valid moods. The aim of the logician is to avoid the invalid moods and to know the exact force of each valid mood. 174 REASONING. Moods of the Syllogism, — We shall state the 19 most valid moods as follows : FIGURE I. FIGURE II. FIGURE III. FIGURE IT AAA E A K A A I A A I B A E A E E I A I A E E A I I E I A I I I A I K I 0. A E A E A A E I E I The student can compose the combinations and notice their values, in accordance with the effects of opposition of propositions. Logicians think each figure with its moods has a special character and value. The German logician, I^ambert, says, ' 'The first figure is suited to the discovery or proof of the properties of a thing ; the sec- ond, to the discovery or proof of the distinctions between things ; the third, to the discovery or proof of instances and exceptions ; the fourth, to the discovery, or exclusion, of the diiferent species of a genus." Conversion of Syllogisms. — It is often convenient to convert a syllogism from one figure into another, or from one mood into another, or a hypothetical syllogism into a categorical syllogism ; but since we dare not in Psychology enter further into the field of lyOgic than what is necessary to explain the nature of reasoning, we must refer the student to some text book on Logic for further development. Sorites, or Chain Syllogisms, — The word sorites comes from the Greek word soreites, meaning heaped up. Sorites may be called a chain syllogism, because they form a heap, or chain of syllogisms easily separated into sepa- rate syllogisms, each preceding syllogism being 2i pro-syllo- gism and each succeeding syllogism an cpi- syllogism. Tphere are two historical Sorites, the Aristotelian and the REASONING. 175 Gloceniaii. The former proceeds from less general to more general terms ; the latter, from more general to less general terms. Both are complex rather than simple syl- logisms. The characteristics and the distinctions of these Sorites may be seen in the following contrast : /. Aristotelian Sorites. 11. Glocenian Sorites. "Caius is a man ; "All sentient beings seek bliss; All men are finite beings ; All finite beings are sentient ; All finite beings are sentient ; All men are finite beings ; All sentient beings seek bliss ; Caius is a man : .-. Caius seeks bliss." .-. Caius seeks bliss," The former may be separated into simple syllogisms as follows : I. Caius is a man; 2. Caius is a finite being ; 3. Caius is a sentient being ; AH men are finite beings; All finite beings are sentient ; All sentient beings seek bliss ; .-. Caius is a finite being .-. Caius is a sentient being. .-. Caius seeks bliss. The same conclusion is thus reached through three sep- arate syllogisms. The conclusion of the preceding syllo- gisms became the minor premise of the succeeding syllo- gisms. All Sorites can be thus treated. It is seen by the above conversion that Sorites are often preferable to a succession of separate syllogisms, because less space and time are occupied in the solution of a logical question. 106, While reasoning sometimes appears to be un-syllogistic, the process generally resolves itself into authoritative syllogisms. Value and Application of Syllogisms, — The syllogism may be complete or incomplete, analytic or syn- thetic, inductive or deductive, pure or modal, categorical or hypothetical. AlS has been vShown, each form can be converted into a valid syllogism. It is sometimes urged that such steps of thought as, ' ' That fire burned me ; therefore, this fir ^ will burn me," can be taken without using or implying a syllogism ; but this view seems to 176 RKASONING. neglect several important notions of thought, such as uni- formity of nature and fair representation. Upon the bas- es of u7iiformity of nature and fair representation, we must conclude that all reasoning, properly so called, in- volves a syllogism composed of a major and a minor pre- mise, and a conclusion. The syllogism is not a form but the form into which all reasoning resolves itself. UNIFORMITY OF NATURE, By uniformity of nature is meant the constancy of simi- lar effects following a given cause under the same envi- ronments. lyCt us apply this to the objection sometimes urged that we can not account for the origin of any major premises, and that therefore the syllogism is only one form of reasoning instead of the only form. Take for ex- ample the major premise of the following syllogism : All men are mortal ; Paul is a man ; .'. Paul is a mortal. Whence comes this, ' 'All men are mortal' ' ? Surely no one man's observation warrants so broad an assertion. But now take together the observation and testimony of all men who have lived and died. Such evidence all points to a uniform result ; and long before so much evidence had been acquired the mind of man came to a sort of inevita- ble conclusion that, in accordance with the uniformity of nature, all men are subject to death — they are mortal. But says some one, "This is rather belief than certainty." To this man we may reply that practically for him and for us the belief is sufficiently certain, especially taking every one's own conviction into consideration. Every one acts as if he was certain of being a mortal. This being every one's experience, we must either grant it to be a mockery or a certainty. If it is a mockery which God has put in- REASONING. 177 to US in our creation, it is a wide mockery and one that impugns the wisdom and goodness of a loving God. It is far more reasonable to grant that our belief in the uni- formity of nature is not a mockery, but a certainty, a relia- ble origin for general premises, a sufficient warrant for general truths and major premises, than to suppose God would thus mock his own creatures. Is this uniformity of nature a proper help in securing a major premise in the following? — ''That fire burned me; therefore this fire will burn me." The major premise in this case is, All fire burns. Whence this, 'All fire burns' ? Even the child acts upon this premise, and we repeat that, for pro- tection and use, God has made the mind to know major premises from one or several experiences. Of course, suc- cessive experiences make the major premise logically more certain. It is thus admitted that all major premises have their origin in induction and that induction is valid be- cause it is based upon uniformity of nature. Not every premise, however, will be valid on this ground. As we shall see by and by, the items of experience must fairly represent all items involved in the major premise. This leads us to speak of the second reason for the validi- ty of deductive and especially inductive syllogisms. This reason is : A FAIR REPRESENTATION. It is necessary to remember that all major premises, except such as are derived from intuition, are formed by induction. The induction is a valid process when the items of experience, testimony or analogy, are a fair rep- resentation of the wider general term to be in the conclu- sion. Just how many items the mind demands as a fair representation, we can not always tell ; but we do know that when there is a sufficiently wide experience, etc., the lyS RKASONING. mind is justified, acts as if it were justified in stating general premises or in deriving general conclusions. Kven the child acts out this law of mind. It is the law of cause and effect, based upon the uniformity of nature and a fair representation of what is to be stated in our conclu- sions. We are as certain that all men are mortal as we need be ; and we are certain of this, not because we have any absolute knowledge of the future as such, but because our inference is based on proper representation of nature's working. It is thus that the child reasons from that fire to this fire ; from that effect to this effect. While, then, reasoning sometimes appears to be carried on without syl- logisms, we are compelled to admit that it is only appear- ance, and that, in reality, all reasoning is carried on by syllogisms. We are also compelled to notice that the laws of the syllogism are mere outgrowths of thought- laws. While the syllogism, in its nineteen valid moods, is not an absolute form for the presentation of thought, it is of ines- timable value in detecting false steps in our own writings and in that of others. J07. If the premises are true, the conclusion must be true. Validity of a Syllogism. — In the hands of a rogue or in the hands of an idiot, the syllogism is either like a host of demons or like a useless plaything. The premises must first be true. That this may be the case, is a work for intelligence, honesty and dis-interestedness. When there is ignorance, dishonesty or a pet-purpose in the rea- soner, we must watch his premises and the opposition of his propositions ; we must watch every page of sceptic literature for such delusive premises, and we must watch our own premises in every page which we think or ex- press. When the laws of a syllogism are violated, the REASON NG. 179 conclusion must, of course, be unreliable, often false. Let us notice a few illustrations : /. Illustration, All weak-minded men are dudes ; Paul is a weak-minded man ; .*. Paul is a dude. Every one sees that the conclusion is a falsehood, that it is even ludicrous. Where is the error ? Not in the logical force of the syllogism, but in the statement of the first premise. The middle term is a false standard for mediate comparison. The illustration is a simple one ; but literature, especially theological novels like "Robert Blsmere," and the controversial tracts of atheists or infi- dels, are fairly crowded with false premises. This state- ment may be verified by noticing infidel argumentation. Among those who have proved themselves skillful in re- futing false syllogisms we notice Gladstone, Black and Garfield. Intelligent and conscientious teachers of men should master the laws of the syllogism. Unless we do this, there is no telling what untruth we may implant even into the minds of those whom we should lead into the paths of truth. The validity of a syllogism depends also upon the truths stated in the several propositions of the syllogism. When both premises are forever undenia- ble truths, the conclusion must also be an absolutely un- deniable truth. Rational science finds its syllogistic bases in the undeniable truths of Intuition. Logic and Mathematics therefore lead us to undeniable conclusions. Empirical science finds its materials in the contingent truths of sense-proof — in facts and notions acquired through sense-perception. Botany and Zoology therefore lead us to conclusions that depend for their certainty upon comprehensive experience, reUable testimony, and com- plete analogy. Rational science is based upon absolute relations ; empirical science, upon depeyident relations. l8o RKASONING. io8. A relation is a bond of association between things and thoughts. Relations. — It is necessary first to know what is meant by the word relation, and then we shall be able to un- derstand what is meant by absolute and dependent relations. Illustrations. — Two plums are like or unlike each other : this is the relation of resemblance or co7itrast. Corn is sweet, sugar is sweeter, and honey is sweetest : this is the relation of degree. A tree is here or there, near or dis- tant, on a hill or in a valley : this is the relation of position. One boy is larger than another, one circle is wider than another, one book is more extensive than another : this is the relation oi proportion. The watch was made by Mr. ly. , the world was created by God : this is the relation of dependence. An arc is a part of a circumference, the head is a part of a man, a county is a part of a state, an apple is divided into fractional parts : this is the very common relation of comprehension. All these relations are associa- tive ties, or ties of contiguity ; they tell what one thing has to do with anott^er. J09. The principal relations are those of resemblance, contrast, de- gree, position, proportion, dependence, and comprehension. XJO. An absolute relation is always unalterable ; but a dependent relation is true only under conditions. Origin of Absolute and Dependent Rela- tions, — The associative bond between two things or thoughts may be an unalterable bond or an alterable bond. If the bond can not by any means be broken, then it is REASONING. l8l called an absoIvUTK rkLATion. If the bond can be bro- ken, then it is a dkpKndKNT rki^ation. Illustratio7is . — Our relation to God is one of absolute dependence ; nothing ever has altered this bond between us and God, and nothing ever will. An arc is only a part of a circumference ; nothing ever affects this relation be- tween the arc and its circumference ; the relation is abso- lute. A man can never be anybody but himself ; this is the relation of identity ; between any individual and oth- er individuals this relation is forever true. Honey is sweeter than sugar ; but this might have been different ; it is a dependent relation. The house is worth a million dollars ; there are many circumstances that might alter this fact ; it is a dependent relation. The plum-tree stands on the hill ; but it might stand in the valley ; the relation between the tree and the hill is a dependent one. Relations, therefore, originate from unalterable or altera- ble conditions. ITT, Resemblance and contrast are the only real relations of a syllogism. ^numeration and Elaboration, — The other rela- tions before named and illustrated may lurk in the predi- cate of a syllogism ; but the force of the syllogism does not depend upon them. Whether or not the notions com- pared in a syllogism have agreement or disagreement de- pends really, upon the relation of reskmbi,anck or upon that of contrast. Resemblance or contrast is always found in the copula of a syllogism. When the copula is affirmative, we have the relation of resemblance in that particular proposition or between the two premises and the implied conclusion. But when the copula is nega- tive, we have the relation of contrast between the prem- l82 REASONING. ises and between the two terms compared in the conclu- sion. All the propositions of a pure syllogism must be reduced to subject, copula, and predicate. Various re- lations, such as that of dependence, comprehension, etc., are usually found in the grammatical predicate, or verb, of sentences. In these cases the sentence must be so changed as to throw this relation into what is called the logical predicate. Syllogistic Application of Relations. — The re- lations of resemblance and contrast as found in syllogisms are determined by necessary truths and by contingent truths. If the premises are indisputable truths, then the relation of resemblance or of contrast as denoted by an af- firmative or negative copula must be absolutely binding upon the conclusion. But if the premises are disputable truths ; if they are truths that depend for proof upon ex- periment, testimony or analogy, then the relation of re- semblance or of contrast in the copulas is only probably binding upon the conclusion. It is, then, important to know whether such relations are absolute or dependent. This we shall know when we understand necessary and contingent truths. CHARACTER OF A NECESSARY TRUTH. 112. A necessary truth is unalterable as to existence, character and effects. Illustrations: A= (^4"^)! (2 -|-2)=4; effects have causes. Illustration J.— To say that A = (^ + ^) is the same as to say that the whole is equal to the sum of all its parts. If this is not true in every case, then a part REASONI NG. 183 might sometimes be called equal to the whole of which it is a part. Such a thing is contradictory; we can not even imagine it. This truth is a universal existence, never changes in character and always leads to the same effects. That the whole is equal to the sum of all its parts is a necessary existence. We can not say this in any simpler words. This truth is expressed, as we have seen, by the law of identity. Illustration IL — (2 + 2) mtist be 4 or 5. It can not be both 4 or 5. It must be one or the other. If it is 5, then its effects must be different from what they are to all experience. We know the effect of (2 -\- 2). It is always 4. This is always unalterably true. Time and place can not change it, no agent nor environment changes this truth ; it is the same now as it was and always will be ; (24-2) will be 4 in heaven as upon earth. This truth is expressed by the laws of contradiction and excluded middle. Illustration III, — Effects have causes. This truth is usually stated : Every effect must have a cause. This the human mind demands under all circumstances. Time and place and agency and environments can not alter this truth. The contrary is contradictor}^ The child and the man always act upon the belief that every effect has a cause. We can not reason ourselves out of this truth. The very reasoning process would betray the same no- tion. The contrary supposition has always led men to the absurd. Application, — Such propositions in a syllogism as, Paul is a mortal ; because he is 07ie of a whole class. — Paul is a poet ; because he can not both be a poet and not a poet. — Paul is here ; because he must be either here or somewhere else.' — This fire burned me ; because if it did not, I can not give any reasonable account oi this burn, — all such propositions illustrate the existence and character l84 REASONING. of necessary truths in syllogisms, and their effect upon reasoning in its process as well as in its conclusions. The fundamental ideas of intuition are all necessary truths, and the sciences based upon the materials of intuition reach absolute conclusions. CHARACTER OF A CONTINGENT TRUTH. 113- A contingent truth is alterable as to existence, character and ef- fect. Illustrations : Wallace wrote "Ben-Hur" ; the clock stands on the mantel. Illustration I, — Wallace wrote "Ben-Hur." This is a truth, but might have been different. If Wallace had lived before Christ, or in Africa, or under unfavor- able environments, he would hardly have written "Ben- Hur. ' ' If there had been no I^ew Wallace, there might not have been a "Ben-Hur." "Ben-Hur" might not have the same effects which it has, if it were read by un- intelligent people or by people of other natures. Indeed, there are a thousand and one items that might have al- tered or prevented the existence, character and effects of "Ben-Hur." This is what we mean by a contingent truth. Not that it is not a truth now ; but that it might have been different under the influence of different items. Illustration II, — The clock stands on the mantel. The same explanations could be made of this topic. We shall ask the student to try it. The propositions of the empirical sciences and of history are examples of contin- gent truths. All the truths derived from sense-experi- ence and developed by induction are contingent truths. In order to prove that such a proposition is a true propo- sition, we must take into our syllogisms all the items that may have, or might have influenced the truth. From REASONING. 185 what has been said it is evident that there are two kinds of truths upon which to construct syllogisms, two conse- quent kinds of reasoning. These two kinds of reasoning we shall find to be deductive and inductive, characterized respectively as demonstrative and probable in their mode of development and in the validity of their conclusions. DEDUCTIVE REASONING. 114. Deduction is reasoning from general truths to particular truths. General Truths and Particular Truths, — A truth is a true thought. A gknkrai. Truth is a com- prehensive truth, one that covers all the individuals of a class, one that affects all items in question, one that has a general idea for its subject, etc. A particuIvAr Truth is one that is not comprehen.sive, one that affects a single individual or several individuals, one that has a particu- lar idea for its subject, etc. All men are mortal, is a general truth ; some men are poets born, is a particular truth. A general truth has for its subject the whole of something ; but a particular truth has for its subject [l^ss than the whole. Deduction reasons from the whole to its parts ; from the more general to the less general ; from the comprehending all to the comprehended \?^w^/ from the inclusive class to the included individuals. It goes upon the assumption that whatever is true of the whole must be true of all its parts ; it is analytic rather than synthetic ; demonstrative rather than cumulative in its evidence. 115' Perception as well as intuition furnish materials for deduction. Sources of Materials, — Deductive reasoning de- l86 REASON I NG . velops the materials furnished to the mind by perception and by intuition. Perception furnishes some material for deductive reasoning, but intuition is the main source. The general terms which we derive through generaliza- tion, such as quality nouns and concrete nouns, and upon which we construct universal premises, originate from perception. Take for example the proposition, "All men are mortals." Intuition could not furnish this judgment ; it is not a primary idea or truth ; it is a truth derived through generalization based upon perception. We have already noticed that such a proposition is based upon our belief vn nature's uniformity and upon fair representation. This induction leads to a probable conclusion ; but the conclusion is as valid practically as a necessary truth. Not-with-standing the subtle arguments of the Nominal- ists, who claim that there are no general notions, no gen- eral truths, no general propositions, mankind has always acted upon the belief that there are such truths. Grant- ing this, we assert that the general truths of sense -proof are legitimate sources for deduction. jj6. Deductive reasoning is a demonstrative analysis. Analysis and Demonstration, — If we say that all men are mortal and that because Gladstone is a man, he must be mortal too, our argument is an anai^ysis of all men. Gladstone is the comprehended one of whom we can predicate whatever is true of the comprehending all. No one will dispute the conclusion provided the premise is true. The argument of deduction is also a DEMONSTRATION. An argument is called a demonstration when one argument will prove the thing as absolutely as a dozen arguments would ; it is called demonstrative be- cause it points out, convinces by one syllogistic combina- REASONING. 187 tion. Deduction is a demonstration because the syllogism is constructed out of necessary truths ; and whenever such necessary truths are properly combined, one syllo- gism is admittedly as good as ten thousand. We may prefer another on the ground of convenience or brevity ; but the result is the same. Illustration. — A straight line is the shortest distance between two points ; a curved line is not a straight line ; hence a curved line is not the shortest distance between two points. The domain of deductive reasoning is rather the abstract and general than the concrete and practical. Abstract Domain, — The ideas of intuition are ab- stract and general. We can not refer the birth of such notions as that of space to any particular concrete concept. It is true that a particular concrete concept may help us as a type of the general ; but as pure notions, those of space and other intuitive products are comprehensive, general notions. When we reason at all upon these ideas, or notions, it is a deductive process. The higher mathe- matics, lyOgic, Aesthetics and Ethics, are the field of de- ductive reasoning. In their purity, these are abstract sciences. We gain but little or no help from perceptive sources. The concrete will not enter deeply into our calculations. We soon soar way beyond the sphere of the concrete, into the higher strata of principles and laws. Calculus and other deductive sciences do not require the aid of concrete things in their demonstrations, except to help the young mind in its first flights. The student of the deductive sciences soon abandons the crutch upon which he leans in his childhood years. He "unsenses" the mind, looks inward with the eye of intuition, and de- 9 l88 REASONING. velops his sjdlogisms upon materials found in the domain of pure mind. Ii8. The relations of the propositions is a deductive syllogism are absolute relations based on necessary truths. 119. ILLUSTRATION. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line ; A curved line is not a straight line ; .'. A curved line is not the shortest distance between two points. Analysis, — Extension, direction, position, — these are primary qualities. It is true that we seem not to know these qualities apart from some sense- experience ; but this is onfy seeming. In reality, sense- experience is only an occasion for the application of a previous, innate no- tion — that of space. Extension, direction, and position are outgrowths, necessary truths of intuition. Out of these truths we construct the premises of our syllogism. But are we certain that the two above premises are unal- terable, necessary truths ? If a straight line is not the shortest distance between two points, experience and tes- timony have always been a lie. We know also that even if no man ever tested the proposition by experiment, a straight line always has been and always will be, in every place and under all environments, the shortest distance between two points. An experiment based on the con- trary belief would lead us into the absurd. The same is true of the second premise and of the conclusion. If so, then the relation of contrast between the premises, and the resultant relation of contrast between the terms com- pared in the conclusion, must be undeniable and absolute relations. Nothing that man or circumstances could ef- REASONING. 189 feet, eould ehange this relation ; and as long as there is matter in the universe or space is an existence, so long nothing can alter the relation of the straight line to the curved line. 1^0. One deductive demonstration is as good as ten thousand. Validity of One Demonstration, — In the illus- tration of the straight and curved lines, we find that the conclusion is just as valid after one demonstration as after fifty. Kvery mathematician reaches the same conclusion as surely through one demonstration as through another. In a like manner any mathematical answer is to be re- garded. We may prove a triangle equal to another by direct super-position, or indirectly by showing the absurdity of all other suppositions but that of equality. This is not saying that we must 2ise both methods to make certain of our answer. Either method will do as far as search of a valid conclusion is concerned. One method may be more convenient or more satisfactory to personal preference than the other ; but either is sufficiently valid. 121. A demonstrative conclusion is theoretically irresistible. Theoretically Irresistible Conclusions. — A conclusion of the deductive syllogism in I^ogic, Aesthetics, Ethics, or Mathematics, is theoretically beyond reasona- ble dispute. It is sometimes imagined that a conclusion in Algebra or Geometry is so absolutely unalterable as to make Mathematical reasoning pre-eminently superior to probable reasoning. The mathematician feels that if his premises are true, the Geometrical syllogism must lead to 190 REASONING; an irresistible answer. The thing istheoretically true ; but this admission does not give mathematical reasoning a/ra<:- /zV^/ superiority over probable or moral reasoning. To make this clear, we need only refer to the application of mathe- matics as made in Mechanics, Physics, Astronomy, Men- suration, Engineering, etc. While the theoretical conclu- sion of Mathematical syllogisms is absolutely accurate, the conclusion must be modified by many additions and sub- tractions. These allowances we must make for friction. It is only when we have through inductive corrections modified our mathematical conclusions, that we can make mathe- matical deduction a reliable guide in its application. The geologist must make all sorts of allowance before his mathematical answers will tally with the items of experi- ence. The astronomer must learn through a thousand centuries how to correct his mathematical calculations of a coming eclipse. It is not until by inductive experience he has learned to modify his mathematical conclusions, that he reaches a reliable statement. In ordinary mensu- ration this is true. The engineer, the navigator, the surveyor, makes his estimate in the same way. The curve in the railroad and the speed in the engine can not be accurately estimated without many allowances for fric- tion. Cold and heat, storm or calm, ordinary obstruc- tions, etc., must all come into the calculation. This shows that pratically inductive reasoning is as valid as deductive reasoning. Deductive reasoning develops the rational sciences and is valuable in practical application. national Science and Practical I/ife, — It pays the student and other men to cultivate deductive reasoning for its practical value as well as for its mental discipline. REASONING. P9I By deductive reasoning the world has developed the rational sciences upon the basis of intuitive materials. Apart from deductive reasoning, the faculty of intuition could not have been anything more than a mere mental appendix. The sciences called rational are all based upon intuition ; they would never have been developed apart from deduction. Deduction has thus given birth to IvOgic, Ethics, Mathematics, Aesthetics, etc. All of these have a disciplinary value and a practical value. Without lyOgic, the science of the true, we should be lame and blind and deaf and dumb in Theology, Politics, Sociology and Econ- omy. Without Kthics, we should grovel in moral filth and degradation. Our institutions would be little less than beastly. Without Aesthetics, we should be deprived of much that is organized beauty and sublimity in Art. Without Mathematics, half the calculations of practical life would be like myth and vision. INDUCTIVE REASONING. Induction is reasoning from particular truths to general truths. Distinctions. — Induction is the opposite of deduction. In deduction we legitimately affirm of a particular thing whatever we affirm of the general thing of which the par- ticular thing is a part ; but in induction we affirm that whatever is true of a satisfactorily large number of partic- ulars is probably also true of the class to which the par- ticulars belong. The distinctions between induction and deduction may be seen by comparing the following syllo- gisms : 192 REASONING. All planets revolve round Venus, Mars and the Earth, re- the sun ; volve round the sun ; But Venus revolves round Venus, Mars and the Earth, rep- the sun ; resent all planets ; Hence all planets revolve round Hence Venus is a planet. the sun. In the former syllogism we passed by deduction from the general all planets to the particular planet Venus ; but in the latter syllogism we passed by indiiction from a fair- ly representative number of planets to all planets. The former conclusion must be true if the major premise is true ; the latter premise must be true if the minor premise is true. In deduction based upon intuitive truths there can be no doubtful conclusion ; but in induction there is usually room for doubt. Experience and consciousness furnish materials for induction. Perceptive Materials. — Induction develops mater- ials furnished to the mind by sense- experience and con- sciousness. Materials thus furnished are contingent items of information. A contingent truth is not necessarily doubtful in a practical sense ; but we need not regard it as a truth until we have proved it to be so by experience, testimony and analogy. Illustration and Analysis. — A rose-bush planted in May grew ; but my rose-bush was also planted in May ; hence it will grow. Each proposition of this inductive syllogism is a contingent truth. The first premise is true condi- tionall}^ ; in this climate, under particular environments, planted so and so. The other propositions, like the first, are not unalterable facts ; they are probable, contingent truths. Another Illustration and Analysis. — ly, M and R be- lieve that they are free agents ; but ly, M and R represent REASONING. 193 all intelligent men ; hence all intelligent men believe themselvevS to be free agents. The propositions are again contingent truths, though not in the same sense as in the previous illustration. Historically the first premise might have been otherwise ; the second premise is not altogther true ; and the conclusion must therefore be at least only- probable. The former syllogism is based upon experi- ence ; the latter, upon consciousness. Inductive reasoning is a cumulative synthesis. A Cumulative Synthesis. — It may be "morally certain" that the sun will rise to-morrow, and that I must die some day ; but it is not absolutely certain. The con- clusion is not the undeniable effect of a demonstration ; I may reasonably doubt the conclusion until I have satisfac- tory proofs. To be sure that the conclusion is accurate and reliable, we must have sufficient evidence from ex- perience, testimony, and analogy. In other words, the conclusion is obtained by a cumulative synthesis of sepa- rate evidences. We put together the experience and tes- timony of all in whom we trust and then conclude accord- ingly. This synthesis is cumulative in its evidence ; one syllogistic proof would be untrustworthy. An inductive conclusion is not acted upon as reliable until proof has ac- cumulated from every side. The cumulative character of an inductive syllogism may be noticed in the following syllogism : The sun rose every morning last year and this year ; but last year and this year represent all years ; hence the sun will rise every morning through all years. This conclusion is "morally," or probabl}^, certain; it is based upon a cumulative synthesis of proofs. 194 REASONING 126. The domain of inductive reasoning is rather the concrete and practical than the abstract and general. Practical Domain. — Perception gives us purely the concrete. Objects and their practical uses have been the materials for induction. The child and the man were thus able to construct, to synthesize, to proceed from the par- ticular to the general. It is thus that generalization be- comes the hand- maid of subsequent induction. From the least comprehensive in experience we can, by induction, pass to the most comprehensive, until we reach such a proposition as. All men are mortals ; all animals with horns and hoofs are ruminants ; all bodies fall towards a gravity- centre ; etc. While we may thus reach the general by induction, the actual domain of induction ends as soon as we reach the general. The general idea or notion is the boundary of the inductive domain. That which is strictly abstract, that which has not its origin in sense- experience, belongs to the domain of deduction. Business, practical morality, health and invention, belong to the domain of inductive reasoning, — all experimental spheres from Natural Science to Government. Inductive reasoning is cumulative and reaches a conclusion that is morally or probably certain. Cumulation and Moral Certainty, — The/ads of this proposition have been noticed. We desire only to notice the force of a probable conclusion. How valid is the conclusion ? We answer by saying the conclusion is ''pioralfy certain." Mo ?^alfy certain means that the con- REASONING. 195 elusion has so invariably, so customarily been true, that practically we may act upon the conclusion as certainly true. The word morally is . derived from the Latin mos^ custom, and signifies a customary result. From this meaning of the word moral, we come to call probable rea- soning by the name of moral reasoning. The word moral then refers to the cumulative proofs of a conclusion, while the YJordi probable refers to \he force of an inductive conclusion. In practical life moral reasoning and its probable conclusions will compel us to act accordingly. This explains why we act upon the belief that we are all mortals, that the sun will rise to-morrow, that a certain conduct will lead to certain effects, and that life is a prep- aration for the future world of reward or punishment. Inductive reasoning develops the empirical sciences and is practically reliable in life. Empirical Science and Practical Life. — It is of special importance to the student and to all men, to cultivate inductive reasoning. By inductive reasoning the world has developed the empirical sciences. These are so called because they are based upon experiment, sense -experience, perception. Induction has given birth to all the natural sciences ; it has given us an organized language ; it has given us practical applications of gener- alization products ; it is the mother of the useful arts and of invention. The physician bases his medical compounds on the inductions of the chemist ; he bases his treatment of patients on his own experience. The teacher, the preach- er, the lawyer, the businessm an, — all men base their con- duct to a great extent upon induction. Indeed, it is by induction that we learn to do every thing better by prac- tice. It is by induction that we have become the harvest- 9^ 196 RKASONING. ers of past ages in a thousand fields. We owe it our hom- age in the public school and in life as a mission. We shall now add a table of distinctions summing up the characteristics of inductive and deductive reasoning. In both forms we have found : If the premises are true, the conclusion must be indisputably true. DEDUCTION VS. INDUCTION. I. DKDUCTION. II. INDUCTION* Respects r of Distinction. Intuition and Perception. Abstract. Absolute. Necessary truths. One demonstration. Analytic. Absolute premises. 8. Theoretically irresistible. 9. Rational sciences. ID. Mathematics, Logic, etc. 1. Sources. 2. Domain, 3. Relations. 4. Bases. 5. Proofs. 6. Process. 7. Composition. 8. Force. 9. Products. 10. Application. 1. Perception. 2. Concrete and Practical. 3. Dependent. 4. Contingent truths. 5. Cumulative evidence. 6. Synthetic. 7. Probable premises. 8. Practically irresistible. 9. Empirical sciences. 10. Engineering, Astronomy. EXPERIMENTAL INDUCTION. Experience includes personal observation and experiment ap- plied to nature in her ordinary and her extraordinary phenomena. Competent and Incompetent Observers, — Ex- perience is not always a reliable source of information for experimental induction. Several distinct cautions are necessary to insure safe conclusions. The basis of ex- perimental induction is uniformity of nature, sameness of nature's working. Every man intuitively knows that nature does not deceive. Our interpretation, however, may be erroneous. We may not be physiologically or psychologically efficient agents. Our observation of na- ture in her ordinary garb may be clouded by weak eyes, REASONING. 197 poor hearing, or any abnormal modification of .sense. We may not be in a proper mental mood for accurate obser- vation. We may be too imaginative, too superstitious, too morose, too morbid, too young, too old, or something else that hinders accurate perception. We may not have acquired mental culture sufficient to examine nature ac- curately and understandingly. Nature and the world make a large field for personal observation, and our inter- pretations are often wrong. Sufficient and Insufficient Data, — It is still more true that in experimenting with nature and the world in extraordinary relations, our experience may not furnish reliable data for induction. This is true in the natural sciences, in the acquisition of general ideas, in society, politics, government, professions, and common life. A second requisite for proper experimental induc- tion is that there be fair representation, or a sufficiently wide field for observation. It is true that experience may furnish abundant material for inductive reasoning ; but the uniformity of nature which makes experience re- liable is a luiiformity under like circumstances. A partic- ular cause will not result in the same effects under unlike circumstances. One man gains under certain environ- ments, the other loses ; one man is successful in teaching or any other mission, the other man is not. A thousand, perhaps many thousand, items must be taken into con- sideration before we can properly rely upon our personal experience. It is necessary, therefore, fairly to enumer- ate in our syllogism all possible items or circumstances that may modify or completely change our inductive con- clusions. Uniformity of nature is not true unless we add variety. This variety in every department of induction covers a vast amount of experimental correction. It is thus with our health, business, science, morals. 198 REASON TNG. 130, Experimental induction leads to many false conclusions when observation and experiment have not been comprehensive. Illustrations of False Induction : 1. The Central African has never seen a white man ; The Central African's observation represents all men ; .-.' He concludes that all men are hlack men. 2. Water never turns to ice in Siam ; The water of Siam is like water everywhere ; .'.Water never turns to ice anywhere. 3. My philosopher's lamp has never exploded ; This lamp is like all philosophers' lamps ; .-. No philosopher's lamp will ever explode 4. This powder-mill has stood for fifty years ; All powder-mills are like this powder mill ; .-. All powder-mills will stand for fifty years ; Topics : Sunrise ; harvest-time ; eclipse ; winter. Application. — In the preceding illustrations, obser- vation and experiment were not comprehensive, did not fairly represent the general terms in the conclusions, did not fully enumerate varieties of circumstances. Of course, the conclusions are unreliable, untrue. Young persons make many scores of such conclusions in their study of history, in their estimate of character and society, in their acquirement of general notions of science or religion. Every one knows how often it was necessary to add items of new information, to correct former impression, to modi- fy the conclusions of early years, to give up a principle, to abandon a tenet of religion. Natural science abounds in experimental induction ; but Botany, Physiology, Ge- ology, Astronomy and the vast host of them, are not ab- solute and unchangeable in their conclusions until suc- cessive corrections have included every circumstance, REASONING. I99 every modifying item, every item of observation and ex- periment. In Psychology and Natural Philosophy, it is of extreme importance to base induction upon a wide field of observation and experiment. Full maturity of mind, constant vigilance, a normal condition of body and mind, fair intelligence and abundant experimenting and testing, — these and other cautions are requisites for safe experimental induction. INDUCTION FROM TESTIMONY. Testimony is the evidence which experience may furnish to persons who have not the same experience. Tradition. — Testimony includes tradition, history and legal evidence. Tradition is the spoken or written record of a past beyond historical ken. It may refer to personages, events, customs and doctrine. By tradition we know personages mythological and heroical. Aeneas and Hercules are instances. By tradition we locate the founding of Rome and the site of ancient Sodom. By tra- dition the state and church refer us to customs and doc- trines. History, — History is an organized, legalized testimony of past events. By it we know the rise and fall of ancient nations ; their manners, laws, customs and personages. From its record we can reconstruct empires now crumbled into decay. By it we are assured that there was a Shem, a Joseph, a Socrates, a Caesar, a Cromwell. By it we are assured that the Pyramid builders lived in Egypt ; that America won her freedom. Mvidence, — I^egal evidence is testimony offered before the tribunals of earthly government. It is used in testing asserted guilt or innocence. By it the criminal is con- 200 RKASONING. victed, sentenced, punished. By it the innocent are cleared, set free and honored. Though justice is not al- ways secured upon the ground of legal evidence, the lat- ter is our only practical hope for securing earthly justice. Universal Need of Testimony, — Personal com- fort and safety, church and state, make testimony a neces- sary source of proof. Individuals and associations are limited by environments. The chemist, the physician, the teacher, the lawyer, the statesman, the jury, the mor- alist and the theologian, are bound hand and foot to a small circumference, unless testimony removes the limita- tions of narrow personal observation. The murderer could but seldom be brought to justice if we could not re- ly upon testimony. Indeed, without testimony the whole fabric of life and government would tumble over our heads. If we could never trust the report of history and legal evidence, each man would be an isolated point, a prey to suspicion and a child in science or art. Social and home life, business and pleasure, — all these and other re- lations make reliable testimony a necessity. Natural and Reasonable Credence, — Testimony in its nature, origin and purpose, is crKdibi^K because it is natural and reasonable. lyCt us notice the two reasons. Children naturally rely on the words of father, mother, friend and even of the foe. When there is no recognized motive for the contrary, it is natural for most persons to testify the truth ; and whether the heart loves this truth or not, the fear of detection is usually a guarantee that child and man will speak the truth. Of course, this rule has many exceptions, and thus arises the question, can we at all rely on testimony ? But it is usually reason- able to rely on the words of another ; because of usual veracity ; because of the mutual dependence of mankind ; and because of the ban of universal censure of false testi- mony. REASONING. 20I Intention and Motive Not Always Reliable, — But testimony is not always reliable, hitention and mo- tive are not the only criteria of truthful evidence. Tradi- tion carries but a distorted atom of truth ; history is often smothered in myths ; and legal evidence is often violated by the demons of hell. Even the court of justice is pol- luted by false witness. The innocent is found guilty, and the criminal defiantly grins at the law, because he feels ^haX false testimony often triumphs over truth. Whether testimony is credible or incredible depends on the matter and on the persons involved. Reliable Testimony and Possibility of Its Items. — When tradition, or history, or personal report, deals with that which is impossible in thought or in nature, of course, the testimony is unreliable. A man may not wish or intend to tell an untruth ; but imperfect percep- tion, delusion or fancy, may make him a dupe. He him- self may think his report is true, may himself be deceived. This is doubtless the case in many so reported visions, angelic visits, mysterious phenomena, abnormal conscious- ness, weak memory, table-rapping and faith-cure dupes. If a man testified to any occurrence or fact that violated the law of identity, contradiction, or cause and effect, we should justly doubt his word. If he testified that he saw a man use a new and unknown sense, or that a man walked on his head, we should justly doubt the report. Illustrations may be drawn from such topics as : an earth- quake ; a blizzard ; a faith- cure ; ghosts. 202 KKASONIKG. 133 ENUMERATION OF MARKS.— Reliable testimony is char- acterized by at least ten marks : 1. Many witnesses preferred. 6. Diverse ages and epochs. 2. Competence of witnesses. 7. Diverse educations. 3. Truthfulness of witnesses. 8. Diverse environments. 4. Diverse vocations of witnesses. 9. Good character preferable. 5. Diverse modes of life. 10. Absence of contrary motives. II. Concurrence. J^laboration of Mnumerated Marks, — The very suspicion that testimony is not always reliable makes the above enumeration necessary. This follows from the fact that there may be conflicting testimony. The marks enumerated are not comprehensive, but they will give the citizen and the professional man a general idea of the value of testimony. To enter into a full discussion of the nature of evidence would be beyond the domain of men- tal science. We shall draw into our notice only such marks as make clear the scope and application of induc- tive reasoning. The marks enumerated are true of tradi- tion, history and legal evidence ; but are more especially true of legal evidence. Many Witnesses Preferred. — If only one wit- ness told us there had been a storm or an earth- quake in Pennsylvania last week, the evidence would not be as reli- able as when a number of accounts come to us through the daily papers or through telegrams. The report of a revolution in South America or of a flood at Johnstown, would not have been believed had an only witness or but few witnesses reported the occur- rences. The revolution in Brazil was the subject of con- flicting testimony, and for some time no positive conclu- sion could be reached. Illustrations from ordinary life, from history, and from court trials, will suggest them- selves very readily. The conviction of Guiteau, the as- RKASONING. 203 sassin of Garfield, was more easily secured because of many witnesses. Competence of Witness. — The same ability or in- ability attaches to a witness as we found in case of an observer. Physiological or psychological defects may make the testimony of men unreliable. A weak-sighted, old-sighted, far-sighted, or squinted-eyed person, would not be readily believed when reporting strange phenome- na. In many cases soundness of the five senses is a posi- tive necessity for reliable testimony. A nervous, bilious, morose, imaginative witness would be likely to distort or exaggerate accounts. An ignorant man or a dupe could not give proper testimony. A man might have ever so pure intentions, might even thoroughly believe his own statements, and yet be unable to furnish reliable testi- mony. Illustrations can be found in every- day ac- counts. Truthfulness of Witness, — Ordinarily we rely upon the reports of truthful men rather than upon those of liars. Reputation will stamp men with the mark of truth or untruth. This reputation will follow a man into the teacher's class room, the lawyer's office, the pastor's sanctum, and the courts of justice. A reputation for truthfulness makes a man a more reliable witness. A reputation for untriithfulness makes a man almost incap- able of proper evidence. The evidence of a faithful pas- tor is always worth more than the evidence of a pick- pocket or a gambler, or a jockey. Yet, sometimes, even an untruthful man may furnish reliable testimony. When there is no motive to deceive, and when there are stronger motives to tell the truth, even a liar's testimony is re- liable. This is illustrated by counterfeiters, gamblers, deceivers of every name, when one of them gives "state's evidence." The motive of the particular witness is now to escape with his life. Courts of justice recognize the 204 RKASONING. value of such testimony. A dying thief or murderer may give proper evidence. Diverse Vocations. — In legal evidence or in reports of a strange significance, it is of special importance not only to have many witnesses, but that they be of diverse interests. It would be considered a violation of legal testimony to summon as witnesses twelve farmers, or twelve shoe-makers, or even twelve very learned men. Diverse vocations bring into play diverse opinions, diverse strength of judgment and insight. Diverse vocations re- move the suspicion and often the possibility of collusion. Twelve men of diverse vocations would not be likely to join in any conspiracy against a particular person on trial. Sometimes a Jury is composed of men of like inter- ests, and then justice is defeated. It would be a similar breach of proper testimony to have a number of pick- pockets, gamblers, thieves and tricksters as witnesses against a. man ox for a man. In Christian evidence it is considered of highest importance to be able to refer to the testimony of men whose interests were altogether diverse. A conclusion based on wide testimony of this mark, is logically reliable ; and the contrary would be logically impossible. The raising of I^azarus has thus become a historical certainty ; because the counter- matched evi- dence of opposing parties does not deny the miracle. Diverse Modes of I/ife, — For the reasons before stated, witnesses should be of diverse modes of life Bn- vironments have a prejudicing influence upon all men. City life is so diverse from country life, that witnesses se- lected from the two modes of life would quite likely dis- agree if the truth of the question investigated were not absolute truth. The counter- matching of such diverse influences would furnish a proper prevention for collusion or conspiracy. Communities are distinct in modes of life and in consequent competence as witnesses. Nationality, REASONING. 205 tribal or family interests, etc., help to promote or to de- feat jUvStice in cases where the decision must be made upon the mere ground of testimony. Illustrations come to us from the four winds of heaven. We might refer to the Civil War testimonies. The speeches, books and pamphlets upon the subject, differ very materially in their line of testimony. Diverse Ages and epochs, — The age of individ- ual witnesses and the diverse epochs of witnesses is also a means for marking proper testimony. Young men are more rash and old men more cautious. A court-martial of young men would take quite different courses in their acceptance or deposition of evidence. In business, in the social circle, in religion and government, the fact is recog- nized that witnesses should be of diverse ages. Christian evidence also demands the evidence of diverse epochs in the existence of the Christian church. Diverse Educations, — Community, vocation, mode of life, historical era, profession, — all these are elements of education. The education of a thief differs much from the education of an honest man. His testimony is likely to be colored by individual distinctions. If a number of men of similar education should testify to the same thing, it might be suspected that there was collusion. If a dozen faith-curists should testify that such and such a cure was actually performed, we should still doubt the fact ; because the witnesses might have an "ax to grind." This does not mean that a large body of men, such as a synod, could not be really accepted as proper agents of testimony ; but that where a combination of tricksters is concerned, we must be cautious in our acceptance of tes- timony. Diverse Environments. — Environments of home, comrade-ship, community, sentiment of the age, social circles, business sections or political caucuses, would af- 206 RKASONING. feet testimony. Testimony from one of these sources would not be as conclusive as testimony from all these sources. Court trials, church discipline, and social gos- sip, are valued according to the above characteristics. Common ' 'hear-say' ' is in point. The evidence of a high- ly educated man differs materially in clearness and items from that of a corner- loafer. The evidence of a cultured lady and one of excellent parentage is altogether different from that of a contrary education. Hence the greater certainty of an accurate conclusion when testimony comes from these several sources. Diverse educations and di- verse environments are so similar in effect and nature that one heading would suffice for the illustration of both. Good Character Preferable. — Reputation for good character is a better test of evidence than reputation for evil character. The upright citizen is not as likely to fabricate as a common thief or rascal. A burglar's testi- mony is not usually worth very much. A pick-pocket or a man already convicted of crime can not give proper evi- dence. It is, however, not always necessary that the witness be of good character. A bad man's testimony would be likely to gain our credence if he, on his death bed, told us the story of his wicked life. In the presence of that higher tribunal there would be every natural in - ducement for truthfulness. Absence of Contrary Motives. — A liar's testi- mony could not be usually accepted as reliable, and yet when there can be no motive to tell a lie, but rather a strong motive to tell the truth, even a court of justice accepts state's evidence. Many a vile criminal has testified the truth and brought to the gallows his comrades in crime. Such testimony is not an admirable thing in the one who gives it ; but is of special value in court trials, because the motive of the state's evidence is to save the neck of the witness who testifies against his fellows. REASONING. 207 Concurrence. — Above all is it important that evi- dence should be concurrent. If a number of men who have never seen each other should concur in testifying that they had a similar experience, we should hardly doubt their testimony. We are not inclined to doubt the evidence of men who tell the same straight story about an epidemic that is wide- spread, — perhaps from Russia to the Indies. It is the special purpose of judicial govern- ment to make sure that testimony is concurrent. This does not mean that there must be many witnesses, but that they must state the same details without collusion, without previous conference. This explains why only one witness is examined at a time, and why, in an impor- ant case, witnesses are not allowed to hear each other. Mastery of Marks, — There are several reasons why we should understand the marks of reliable testi- mony : The citizen will be better able to discharge his duty on a jury when he understands these marks. Social gossip will fall flat when we test it by proper marks. News-paper reports of celebrated trials become intelligible to readers who have studied the marks of proper testi- mony. Family government and school government be- come more simple when the teacher applies the marks of testimony. Four Degrees of Certainty in a Conclusion, — Induction from testimony leads to conclusions of several degrees of force. We shall enumerate and illustrate. Suspicion, — Hear- say and gossip are forms of testi- mony ; but they furnish no proper ground for belief. Tra- dition and mythology belong here. Probability, — Post-mortem examinations are forms of testimony. Their force is often merely probable. It is often difficult to tell from a post-mortem examination whether death was suicide or murder. Of course, such 208 REASONING. an examination includes more than testimony ; but con- sidering the testimony itself, we can not accurately con- clude anything. The testimony on such occasions is often meagre, confused and uncertain. It is mere probability. Practical Certainty. — The evidence of history and legal proceedings is far more reliable. We are as cer- tain that there was a Cromwell, a Garfield, a Gladstone, as we are of our own existence. We are certain of the guilt and just punishment of nine tenths of all tried crim- inals. Penitentiaries, jails and public opinion, stamp le- gal evidence as a reliable form of testimony. Its force amounts to practical certainty. I/Ogical Certainty, — We can go even further than to a practical certainty. The miracles of Christ, and many historical events are logical certainties. Testimo- ny in these cases has all the marks of reliable testimony. And more than this : it would be contradictory to the laws of mind to reject testimony so cumulative and con- current as that of Christian evidence. A number of the miracles claim perfect testimony. If this is established, it is impossible to prove Christ's other miracles false. Any supposition to the contrary leads the reasoner into the absurd and the contradictory. INDUCTION FROM ANALOGY, 134- Analogy denotes resemblance of any and every kind. Nature of Analogy, — The formation of the word analogy denotes correspondence in proportion to. When two things resemble each other in one or more respects, we say there is an analogy between them. The resem- blance may be that of qualities, cause, effect, relation, progress, environment, or otherwise. The word opposed to analogy, is contrast. REASONING. 209 Analysis of Illustrations. — A and B resemble each other in horns, shape, hoofs, etc ; but A is a ruminant ; therefore B is probably also a ruminant. This may or may not follow. Newton noticed the resemblance of the diamond and of water to carbon. In the three cases, he found a high refraction compared with density ; but car- bon he knew to be combustible ; therefore he concluded that the diamond and water either were themselves also combustible or contained combustible elements. Subse- quent experimeyit proved that both conclusions were correct. In a similar way, the falling apple compared first with the moon and then with other heavenly bodies, revealed resemblances that gradually lead to the state- ment of the law of gravitation, — one of the grandest prod- ucts of induction. Analogy is thus a sort of school- teacher in physical science. Induction from analogy is not as far-reaching as induction from experience. Analogy infers from particulars to particulars ; but experience, from particulars to generals. /. Illust7'ation, A and B, horned and hoofed animals, are ruminants ; C and D are horned and hoofed animals ; .'. C a7id D 2^X0. probably also ruminants. II. Illusti'ation. A and B, horned and hoofed animals, are ruminants ; A and B fairly represent all ruminants ; .'. ^//horned and hoofed animals are ruminants. Narrow Domain and Uncertain Conclusion. — The illustrations will vShow the difference in vSyllogisms based on analogy and on experience. The second prem- ise of the former syllogism differs wholly from the second 2IO re: ASON I n g . premise of the latter syllogism. The conclusion of the an- alogical syllogism is not 2iS> probable as that of the experi- mental syllogism, and the former conclusion is not as far- reaching as the latter conclusion. By analogical induc- tion the physician diagnoses a case ; and, by experimental induction, he knows what remedy to apply. The strict sense of the word induction does not allow us to speak of analogical induction. Induction strictly proceeds from particulars to generals ; analogy usually proceeds from particulars to particulars. Analogy is a mere inference. When two things are alike in a number of respects, we af- firm by analogy that they are alike also in other respects. Analogy in language and Physiognomy, — We have here a step of inference based on resemblance or contrast. Resemblance and contrast are found everywhere in nature and experience. lyanguage becomes a conveni- ent organization because of resemblance and contrast in ideas and thoughts. Linguistic energy has created a my- riad of rhetorical figures based upon analogy. In every case an unobserved resemblance is predicated on the ground of observed resemblances. Adjectives originally applied to only one object are thus transferred to many other objects. We speak of /zar<^ iron, hard hearts, hard lessons, hard winter, hard work. In this transfer of ad- jectives we notice resemblances between iron hearts, les- sons, winter and work. On the ground of this resem- blance we predicate the quality of hardness of them all. The shade of meaning may not be the same ; but the quality is the same. Our first estimates of the character of strangers is largely based upon analogy. We associate known features with a known character. We infer too often that the stranger whose features resemble those of REASONING. 211 one we know also possesses a similar character. How often we are deceived, every one knows by experience. 137' Induction from analogy reaches a probable conclusion meas- ured in certainty by the extent of resemblance or contrast. Certainty Estimated by Extent of Resem- blance, — In the following illustrations the conclusion is probable rather than certain. The first conclusion is more probable than the second. Saturn revolves round the sun ; but the moon revolves only round the earth. Sa- turn has a direct relation to the sun as the source of light ; but the moon's light is indirect. The conclusion in the last syllogism is now no longer probable ; it is certain. This certainty follows extent of resemblance as determined by experiment. Any number of syllogisms based on anal- ogy, may be constructed on such topics as lightning, water, the telephone, Kdgar Allen Poe, the Resurrec- tion. Illustrations: i. Saturn resembles the earth in shape, motion, opacity and relation ; but the earth is inhabited ; hence Saturn is probably inhabited. 2. The moon re- sembles the earth in shape, motion, opacity and relation ; but the earth is inhabited ; hence the moon is probably inhabited. 3. The diamond resembles carbon in refrac- tion and density ; but carbon is combustible ; hence the diamond is probably also combustible. X38. While induction from analogy often leads to false conclusions, it is valuable for defense and for experiment. Counter- Analogy, — Analogy is certainly often mis- leading. The physician's diagnosis, the youthful esti- mate of character, and our scientific guesses, furnish illus- 10 212 RE^ASONING. trations of misleading analogies. This is particularly true when there is counter-probability. Many resemblan- ces are often less weighty than one or two differences. In the case of the moon, the fact that the moon has no at- mosphere and no water, counter-balances the conclusion that the moon is inhabited. lyife does not depend so much upon shape, motion, opacity and relation to the sun, as it depends upon air and water. Often times, the more resemblances can be traced in other respects, the more probable is a conclusion with reference to a particular respect. A man may, for example, resemble an other man in so many respects that it is probable he is also truthful or untruthful. When there is counter-probabili- ty, we must estimate the proportion of resemblance of one kind to that of another kind. If the proportion of resem- blance is as five is to one, then the conclusion is likely to be probable as five is to one. There are many exceptions. Analogy in Defense and Experimentation, — Butler's Analogy, Drummond's Naturai^ lyAws in the Spirituai. W0RI.D, and Bishop Foster's Beyond the Grave, have proved the value of analogy in argumenta- tion. While analogy can not directly prove anything, it is a potent force in rebutting. We may not be able, by analogy to prove the Resurrection ; but when the infidel sets up his contrary arguments, we can readily show the absurdity of his conclusions. Butler and Drummond and Foster have shown the high probability of immortality, future reward and punishment, and other vital doctrines of Revealed Religion. Indeed, the probability is a prac- tical certainty, and it is harder to prove their conclusions false than to disprove our own existence. Reasoning by analogy leads to conlusions that demand our life's devo- tion. Analogy is an aid to experiment. Many an experi- ment in science would never have been made, had analogy R K AS O NIN G . 213 not led to it. Franklin's discovery that lightning is iden- tical with electricity, Bell's telephone, Edison's host of inventions, and the law of gravitation had their birth in analogy. Analogy thus leads to experiment, hypothesis, theory and practical doctrines. The student will do well if he studies the masters in this kind of reasoning — But- ler, Drummond and Foster. INDUCTION FROM HYPOTHESIS. 139' Hypothesis is a supposition, a provisional account, a conjec- tui^ed cause or law, a guess, a suspicion of truth. The Nature of Hypothesis, — The formation of the word denotes its meaning. Hypothesis is from the Greek, and means a statement of an opinion with refer- ence to some topic. Inductive thinking does not always succeed in reaching an explanation of phenomena by merely putting together this and that item of perception. Some suggestion of sense may lead the mind to frame a provisional account of phenomena. We may afterwards add to this supposition or subtract from it until it fully accounts for all important facts. In this tentative test of a conjecture we aim to notice for how many facts the guess will account. If it is a mere suspicion of truth, in- ductive reasoning will either result in a vkRification or a REJECTION of the hypothesis. A hypothesis is a guess, a supposition ; but a hypothesis that fully and systemat- ically accounts for phenomena is called a theory. A theory is, therefore, a verified hypothesis. When we speak of a rejected hypothesis or an abandoned theory, we depart from the scientific sense of the word theory. The hypothesis may have seemed to be theory, but never actually was such. I^a Place calls a hypothesis "a great guess." Plato calls it "a sacred suspicion of truth." 214 REASONING. Illustration of Historical Hypotheses. — Kepler's conjec- ture of the earth's orbit was originally a gratuitous suppo- sition. He guessed nineteen or twenty times until his hy- pothesis was correct. Franklin's suspicion that lightning was identical with electricity was at first a provisional ac- count, a mere guess. Newton's "great guess" that the heavenly bodies were subject to a law of gravitation was at first a mere conjecture based upon the suggestion of a falling apple. 140. Hypotheses originate from a suggestion. The steps are : i. A perception. 2. Suggestion. 3. Thought and Imagination. Origin and Development of a Hypothesis, — A simple thing like a falling apple or an empty pistol may become a suggestion. It would be interesting to trace adopted theories to their original hypothesis and its suggestion. We should likely fail in an attempt to find such original sense- suggestions, even in the hypotheses of practical, every- day life. Could we go back into the memory, or back still further, into the original conscious- ness of Kepler, Copernicus, Newton, Goethe, Harvey, Franklin, and others, we would perhaps find that mere trifles had suggested hypotheses of great importance. But we should remember that usually the observing, thought- ful man is pre-eminently the one to catch such sugges- tions. A lively fancy and a logical mind are usually the requisites for the getting of hypotheses. Every hypothesis tested by facts is either verified or rejected. Veri£cation or Rejection, — In practical life and in scientific induction, hypotheses are numerous. We notice REASONING. 215 phenomena, and intuitively ask for a cause or a law. In the absence of a conclusion, we seize upon any clew that may suggest an explanation. Bach one of us has thus formed hypotheses, tested them by subsequent informa- tion, brought them under the measure of facts, and in- ferred the truth or the contrary. The juror, the detective, the physicist, makes these guesses. Crude and unshape- ly at first, a gradual testing modifies them into a system, or proves them untrue. A hypothesis which fully ac- counts for observed phenomena is thus regarded as a THEORY. The hypothesis need not account at once for every possible item or fact ; but when no important class of facts is excluded in the test, the hypothesis becomes a practical truth. Hypothesis, the statement of a law or cause, can never become an absolute truth, because a law or a cause lies back of perception, must be inferred rather than perceived. A theory is, then, never absolute truth. It may become a logical and practical truth. When a hy- pothesis does not account for phenomena, we reject it. Afterwards we may still speak of the guess as a rejected theory. Enumeration of Veri£ed and Rejected Hy- potheses, — The law of gravitation ; "daily rotation" of the earth ; an elliptical orbit ; undulation of light ; circu- lation of blood ; nebular hypothesis ; atmospheric origin of meteors ; atmospheric account of Aurora Borealis ; the microbe theory of influenza ; metamorphosed leaves, — all these are now regarded as practically verified hy- potheses. The following may be regarded as rejected hy- potheses : The phlogiston theory in Chemistry ; the cor- puscle theory of light ; the fluidity theory of the earth's interior ; the reflection theory of Aurora Borealis. Remarks. — Some years ago the "Microcosm" made attempts to prove many of the most reliable theories of physics false or inadequate. For some time it looked as 2l6 REASONING. if Gaiiot and Kepler and Copernicus and Newton had all failed to guess the truth, — as if Plato's "sacred suspi- cion of the truth" had been a satanic imposture. But John R. Hall's Microcosm could not substitute any hy- potheses, never tried to do so, and no one else has tried it ; so that we still accept the theories of our text books with a great deal of confidence. Of course, we -may have to give up many hypotheses ; but it is difficult to see how "gravitation", "rotation", etc., could be proved false. Hypotheses, whether verified or rejected, are valuable in ex- periment and in the discoveries of practical life. Rejected Hypotheses Have a Practical Value, — Kepler had failed nineteen times ; but every failure brought him nearer to the truth. The "corpuscle" theo- ry of light has been abandoned ; but it suggested the ac- cepted theory of ' 'undulation' ' , by its very contrast. The "reflection" theory of Aurora Borealis has been rejected ; but it lead to the acceptance of the "atmospheric" theo- ry. The detective may abandon a score of hypotheses ; but every one narrows his circle of search and brings him nearer the truth. Pinkerton's Detective Agency is found- ed upon the fact that hypotheses may lead to the discov- ery of criminals and causes. The missing purse, the mysterious absence of a banker, the murder, the suicide, are all provisionally accounted for by hypothesis. Time and experiment and investigation recover the purse in ac- cordance with the hypothesis, track the banker, overtake the murderer, account for the suicide. Natural science and justice often begin their searches with a crude hy- pothesis. Indeed, we can hardly form an idea of the host of hypotheses that enter our experience and our notice. The public press records these hypotheses by myriads. REASONING. 217 I43» A theory is a systematic statement of a tested hypothesis. When a theory is logically certain, it is called a verified hypothe- sis. Theory vs. Hypothesis, — It will be noticed that the words hypothesis and theory are used interchangea- bly. The guess in its birth, may be called hypothesis ; but in its tested and developed statement it is called a theory. The word theor}^ is of Greek origin, and signi- fies a view, a survey, a looking into. The theory is older and later than hypotheses. Many hypotheses may pre- cede and suggest but a single theory. H3^po thesis is a rude, unshapely guess ; but theory is a systematic, pruned statement of a cause or a law. Previoiis to test, the sup- position is a hypothesis ; after the test, the hypothesis is called a theory. Hypothesis may originate in one mind and be developed by another or by many. A guess is never a theory before it has been tested by facts, A hypothesis, after the test, is called a theory whether the test verified the hypothesis or rejected it. Hypothesis may come to us by accident ; but a theory is the product of reflection. While, then, the terms may be used inter- changeably, there are practical and logical distinctions. CULTIVATION OF REASONING. 144* Reasoning should be cultivated by exercise in deduction and in- duction, including experience, testimony, analogy and h3rpothesis. It is not our aim to enter into lengthy discussions on culture. This is rather the sphere of Methods than of Psychology ; but the student needs to be reminded of th« fact that every faculty can be cultivated and ought to be cultivated. By what methods to cultivate each facul- 2l8 REASONING. ty, depends on the nature and functions of the faculty. Mediate comparison is the function of reasoning, and its nature is two- fold, inductive and deductive. In our youthful years more stress vShould be laid on inductive rea- soning. A constant use of experience, testimony, analogy and hypothesis, will develop our capacity for inductive reasoning. Experience includes observation and experi- ment. Testimony includes tradition, history and legal evidence. Analogy includes all sorts of resemblance. Hypothesis denotes our guesses and suppositions. Prac- tice in the application of these four sources of induction will widen our field, quicken our activity, and enlist our sympathies. Natural science in all its departments is a valuable field for inductive culture. The estimate of evi- dence in courts and social circles will make us cautious and accurate thinkers. The observation of analogies in na- ture and life, will lead us to many valuable conclusions. The forming of hypotheses and subsequent testing will make us scientific and inquisitive thinkers. We should always try to estimate the exact force of such probable conclusions, lest induction be rather a stumbling block than a help. The environments of home-life and school- life are themselves valuable aids in inductive thought. Deductive reasoning receives culture from deductive thinking. We must start out with general notions and infer particulars. Such reasoning should be based on primary truths. The branches of study based upon such truths are Mathematics, I^ogic, Aesthetics, Ethics, and others. Deductive thinking comes later in life than in- ductive thinking. Dr. Brooks, in his "Methods of Teach- ing' ' gives a valuable outline for the culture of the Under- standing. Reference to the outline will give the student and teacher a proper idea of the culture of reasoning. The course indicated involves the following : REASONING. 219 1. Thought-Studies, such as arithmetic and grammar. 2. Special problems and special sentences. 3. Composition. 4. Higher mathematics, physics and metaphysics. 5. Writings of great thinkers. 6. Orig^inal thinking. Remarks. — Mental arithmetic and grammar are es- pecially valuable in the culture of reasoning. Both branch- es demand accurate thinking, logical analysis, and re- flection. There is some danger that, in grammar and arithmetic, the student may become dependent upon ru/e and answer. To avoid this, special problems and special sentences should be given to pupils. These tasks will put the pu- pil on his mettle, and make him independent of.r?^/^ or ansiver. Composing upon subjects of interest is a good means for enlisting reflection; because, without thinking, the composition will be a mere jumble. Higher mathematics, etc. , constantly throw older stu- dents into deductive and inductive syllogisms. The writings of great thinkers become an ijnpulse and a discipline for a faithful reader. Above all, original, independent thinking is the proper exercise for our thought- nature. 10* F. INTUITION. 145- Intuition is that mental faculty by which we conceive piima- ry ideas and truths. Two Sources of Ideas, — Most of our ideas seem to come directly through the perception. We may re- member, modify, compare and elaborate the products of perception into all sorts of thoughts ; but these subsequent operations are performed upon products given by percep- tion. Perception is one source of ideas. We have, how- ever, other ideas not traceable to perception as the source. Perception, it is true, is the occasion, the necessary condi- tion, for the production of such ideas as those of space, time, identity, cause, the beautiful, the good, etc. ; but perception is clearly unable directly to furnish these ideas. In other words, perception is not \h^ producing cause of such ideas. The distinction is that of occasion and cause. It may be well for us to notice this distinction. X46. An occasion is a necessary condition for the activity of a cause. Occasion vs. Cause, — i. The kernel of wheat may be stored away in water- proof chests for centuries. It will not sprout until it is brought in contact with mois- ture. The sprouting is an effect. The moisture is an oc- casion, a necessary condition for the activity of a sprouting cause. This cause is the germ-life of the kernel. The cause may not have been active for centuries ; but we can not say there was no existing cause, any more than we can saj^ an un-used arm is non-existent. Use can not pro- INTUITION. 221 duce a cause, and absaicc of use need not annihilate a cause. Whenever the necessary occasion presents itself, the cause becomes active, as in the case of the sprouting kernel of wheat. It is also true that a cause would never become active if there were no proper occasion ; but it is equally true that the cause could and can at any time be- come active under the necessary condition. This is also seen in the kernel of wheat. We see, then, that an occa- sion is necessary' not as a producing agent, but as a condi- tion. The occasion of moisture could never make a stone sprout, because a life-gcnn is wanting in the stone. In other words, the stone is not a cause of sprouting. 2. A powder-mill may explode. What is the occasio7i and what is the cause ? The accidental footstep is the oc- casio7i ; but the explosive powder is the cause of the explo- sion. The occasion comes in contact with the cause, and the cause produces the explosion. There is no activity in an occasion as such ; it is capable of nothing but passive contact. The cau.se is the active agent. We should, how- ever, remember that what is an occasion in one relation ma}^ constitute a caicse in another relation ; and that what is a cause in one association may become a mere occasio7i in another relation. The terms occasion and cause are, therefore, relative terms used to indicate respectively a necessary condition and an active agency, 3. Mr. I^. delivers an Institute speech. Here are three items of association, — Mr. I^., the speech, and the Insti- tute. In this association Mr. L. is the active agency, the cause ; the speech is a product, an effect ; and the Insti- tute is the necessary condition, the occasion. But again : The Institute recommended Mr. ly. Here we have a new relation for the items. Institute becomes the active agen- cy, the cause ; and the recommendation of Mr. L. is a product, an effect. What is the occasion ? We may know it or we may not know it. It may be this or that. Mr. 222 INTUITION. F. has died, and his position is vacant. The death and the consequent vacancy are the occasion in the present case. Institute is here the cause ; above, it was the oc- casion. Let us apply these distinctions to perception and intuition. Relation of Perception to Intuttion,— Ideas not obtained through perception, but which are fundamental in all thinking, are called primary. Perception is the necessary condition for the activity of intuition. Percep- tion is the occasion, and intuition is the cause. It is true that intuition would not become an active agency apart from contact with the external world. Perception is this contact. But it is equally true that, whenever the occa- sion, the sense- contact, is present, the intuition can and does immediately become active, productive. Perception is thus not the direct agent of primary products, though it is such in the case of all notions derived directly from sense-cognitions. EXISTENCE OF INTUITIVE IDEAS. 147' Consciousness and experience affirm that there a re intuitive ideas in our mind and that they are distinct in their origin. Existence of Primary Ideas. — The child may be only sub- conscious of the existence of such ideas as those of space, time, identity, cause, the beautiful, and the right ; but when we question consciousness under attentive effort, we recognize the existence of such notions. We have not yet accounted for their origin at this stage of introspection ; but we act upon these fundamental ideas in nearly every environment of life. Let us notice these ideas separately. We know what space is ; we have a notion, an idea of it as an existing reality ; and we I NTu I 'ri ON . 223 conform out actions to this notion. Even the child knows a space and has a distinct notion of a space, such as that bounded by a room. But this "<2 space'' is a per- cept, a measured portion of something. We could not have made a ineasiire of something which we never knew. We must, then, have had a previous notion of space in its unmeasured existence. Our notion of such unmeasured space preceded the percept a space and pre- supposes a preceding, a primary notion of unmeasured space. This notion is of sub-conscious origin, an imme- diate product of the mind, and we can not tell when it came to us. It is an intuitive idea. In a like manner we can show that the percept ' 'a time' ' presupposes the notion of unmeas2cred time ; that this latter notion is a primary idea, an intuitive notion, an immediate concep- tion of the mind in contact with a sense- occasion. We know also that this idea of time was sub-conscious in its origin because it was immediate in its origin. We can not tell when this primary idea came to us ; but we know that we have it, and we are conscious that the notion repre- sents something real. The notion is not a figment of the imagination. The percept a cause thus presupposes the general notion oi causation, or U7iiversal cause. The mind acts according to this notion when it asks for the particu- lar cause of any effect. Why should we ask for a cause if deep down in the mind there is not the primary concep- tion that all effects are caused ? The same observations hold true of such ideas as those of number, being, infinity and others. DISTINCT CHARACTER OF PRIMARY IDEAS. 148, "These primary ideas and truths are fundamental to, and pre- supposed in, the operations of the understanding, yet are not directly furnished by sense." 224 INTUITION. The quoted words are those of Dr. Haven ; they denote the distinct character of these ideas and their consequent distinct origin. The understanding in its operations upon Mathematics, History, Justice, Philosophy, Aesthetics and Ethics, presupposes the fundamental notions of un- measured space and time, of absolute identity, of univer- sal cause, of absolute beauty, and of absolute right. Yet it is true that none of these primary notions is directly furnished by sense. We can experience a space, a time, etc. ; but we can never experience unmeasured space, uni- versal cause, etc. Perception is only the occasion in the origin of such ideas. The distinct character of primary ideas is shown by the fact that the mind can not conceive of space or any other primary notion as an image or re- presentation ; we can never point to a concrete thing as the measure of a primary idea. We may, for example, com- pare two books. We can see the books and know their equality ; but we can never see the pre- supposed notion of abstract, absolute equality. The external world affords sense-occasions ; these we can see or know as percepts. The mind immediately conceives notions of things super- sensible, notions of realities, but realities beyond the do- main of sense. The character of primary ideas is distinct and so is their origiii. If this be true, they must be re- ferred to a distinct power of the mind. This power must have a peculiar function and the function must be in some measure voluntary. Thus we come back to the de- finition of intuition as the power of immediate conception of primary ideas and truths. 149' The function of intuition is immediate conception dependent upon sense-occasions. Impossible Origins. — Intuition is not presentative, not representative, not reflective ; it is the faculty of imme- INTUITION. 225 diate conception. Primary ideas, as we have seen, can not come to us through pkrckption. They are not the pro- duct of a presentativepower ; presentation is entirely ab- sent. The primary ideas are, so to speak, native products of the mind ; ideas that spring up almost spontaneously. They can not be the products of the representative power, because what has never been presented can not be repre- sented. Memory can, therefore, not furnish these pro- ducts. Moreover, presentative products partake of the na- ture of images ; but this is never true of the intuitive ideas. Nor are they the products of imagination, mere figments of fancy ; because these primary notions represent the real^ not the ideal. Primary ideas are not the products of re- flection. The child wakes up out of non-existence with the active capacity of immediate intuition. No amount of reflection will produce primary ideas, nor do we slowly gather one after the other. There is no chronological suc- cession in the birth of primary ideas. I^ogically , of course, they depended upon the succession of suitable occasions. We do not, however, know when they came to us ; they are not reflective but immediate products of a distinct power. This power is not active apart from suggestion, and the suggestion must come from the external world. lyCt us notice the process of original conception. ORIGIN OF PRIMARY IDEAS. 150. Immediate conception of Reason requires a suggestive sense- occasion and a sub-conscious producing activity. Suggestion from Sense- Occasions.— We have already noticed the meaning of an occasion. When we modify the word by saying sense-occasion, we refer to the fact that the necessary condition of intuitive activity is external rather than internal. The word sense refers thus 226 INTUITION. to the mission of perception as the mind's medium of con- contact with the external world. The sense- occasion may be a space, a time, an identity, a cause, a beautiful thing, a right or wrong act, an equality, a number, a substance, etc. These sense-occasions must be suggestive occasions. An Active Power to Catch Suggestions. — Perhaps we have no idea or thought that was absolutely unpreceded by suggestion. We have already learned the mission of suggestion in the memory, in imagination and in the understanding. It must be remembered now that sug- gestion is always external and passive. When we say that suggestion is external, we refer to its origin, whether that origin be one of sense or of thought. Even when another mind suggests a thought to our mind, that sug- gestion originated in another mind, not in ours ; it was external to our mind. We do not speak of suggestion as produced by. the mind, but as coming to the mind. Of course, it is plain that nothing can of itself become a sug- gestion. When there is no mind to catch and receive the suggestion, no power of the mind to act in the presence of suggestions, there can be no mental products. It is the mind that catches these suggestive occasions and operates according to the function of the particular faculty that catches the suggestion. This is, then, what is meant by saying that suggestion is pavSsive. Suggestion origi7iates nothing, but it is the condition under which the mind acts in a certain way. Intuition, or Rkason, as it is often called, is such an active power. It also, like other facul- ties, catches suggestions coming from an external world. The products of the active Reason are, however, distinct in their character, they are products peculiar to the hu- man mind. It is thus right to call man a rational ani- mal ; he is endowed with a faculty that furnishes his mind with fundamental ideas and truths. The brute may know a space, a time, a cause, etc. ; but the brute mind INTUITION. 227 never knows these notions in the primary and universal sense. While suggestion is external in its origin, the ideas originated in the presence of these suggestions are inter- nal. Ideas are always internal whether their source be perception or intuition. We may perhaps distinguish ideas of perception from ideas of intuition by saying that the former represent external realities and that the latter represent rather internal, mental realities. But in all cases Intuition is dependent upon suggestion only as a cause is dependent upon an occasion. That is, while in- tuition would not act except under condition, it will act under condition, and this condition is not the agency that produces, but the material caught, worked upon. It is something like saying that a sculptor would not work if he had no material to work upon. The material is, how- ever, not the cause of the statue. So Intuition, not sug- gestion, is the cause of primary ideas. Immediate and Sub- Conscious Process, — The process is immediate, and so immediate that the process is a sub-conscious activity ; we can not tell just when our mind conceived the idea of infinity or identity ; though we know we have such ideas. Nor can we say the origi- nating of such ideas is an unconscious activity of the mind. We intuitively know this to be an inadequate ac- count of mental energy. What, then, makes this activity a sub-co?iscious something ? It is the immediateness of the activity. This is perhaps made clearer by reference to experience in the perception of a beautiful thing. We are far more conscious of the feeling that succeds the in- tellectual perception, and yet we are also a sort of con- scious of the preceding intellectual perception. The pro- ducing activity of intuition or reason is not reducible to a passive receptivity. That would be a reduction ad absur- ditm. It would virtually imply that the ideas which dis- 228 INTUITION. tinguish man from the brute, originate in an involuntary way, thus making man a creature of fatality, a helpless victim of suggestive environments. A Semi- Voluntary Power, — If intuition is sub- conscious, it follows that its activity is also semi-voluntary . The activity is not as definitely voluntary as that of the other faculties ; but perhaps this follows from the fact that we can not apply the activity to a sensible object. Our recognition of the existence of these ideas is easily made voluntary. The originating activity is often involuntary or semi- voluntary ; but the putting of the mind into con- tact with a sense -occasion may be and often is voluntary. We thus indirectly have voluntary power over intuition. Every primary idea is a product, an effect ; but every effect requires a cause, and no cause will act without an occasion. Every effect thus requires two things, a cause and its occasion. Cause and occasion are inseparable. If this truth be clearly grasped, we shall be able to show that indirectly intuition is a voluntary power. We do have voluntary perception ; but perception is the i?isepar- able occasion of intuitive activity ; therefore, intuitive ac- tivity is that of a voluntary power. This is not saying that perception is always voluntary nor that intuition is always voluntary ; but that the power is voluntary in its capacity. We may not always use our voluntary power ; and yet we possess this power. Moreover, we are volun- tary in the use of primary ideas. This will appear from our experience in reasoning or remembering, etc. FUNDAMENTAL DOMAIN. Logically, intuitive activity follows perceptive activity ; but chronologically, intuitive activity is simultaneous with perceptive activity. INTUITION. 229 Intuitive activity is fundamental to the activity of memory, imagination, judgment and reasoning. Significance of a Fundamental Poirei-.— The facts indicated in the preceding propositions are important in the science of mind. Our clear understanding of the domain of intuition as a mental power, will help us to grasp the immeasurable difference between human mind and brute mind. The intuition furnishes the human mind with conceptions beyond the grasp of the brute world. Intuition makes man a rational being — a being responsible for his actions because he is intuitively a free agent. Without the conceptions of intuition, science and reasoning would be no longer possible for want of a be- ginning. The superiority of the soul, her notions of im- mortality and future retribution, grow out of the fact that we are endowed with intuition. For these reasons and similar ones, it is necessary to devote some words to the above propositions. Relation of Intuition and Perception, — IvOgi- cally, intuitive activity follows perceptive activity ; but, chronologically, intuitive activity is simultaneous with perceptive activity. Perception and Intuition are both faculties of the mind. Both faculties had their simulta- neous birth in the birth of mind ; but the activity of in- tuition logically follows the activity of perception. Per- ception puts the mind in contact with sense- occasions. In the moment of sense- contact with the external world the mind catches two kinds of ideas : perception catches a suggestion and intuition catches a suggestion. Both in- tuition and perception now produce ideas in accordance with the respective sense-suggestions. The senses thus become the gate-ways for two distinct faculties. The ideas produced by perception are called percepts ; but the 230 INTUITION. ideas produced by intuition are notions and concepts. In- tuition catches a suggestion that leads to an idea far wid- er than that of perception. It is as if two minds worked upon the same marble ; the master-mind would create a finer statue than the novice-mind. While this shows the high sphere of intuition, it must be said that logical- ly the percept precedes the notion or concept. Were there for some reason no percept, there could be no concept. Chronologically, the two products are simultaneous. Remembrance of the Birth of Intuitive Ideas, — Though the percept and the primary idea are simulta- neous, the percept remains longer within the revealing light of consciousness. This is why we can not recall the exact time of the origiji of a primary idea. The intuitive idea vanishes, as it were, into sub -consciousness, so quick- ly that the percept seems to be the only product. We re- member the origin of the percept because it was in the mind's clear light for a longer time. The birth of an in- tuitive idea may thus occur simultaneously with a percep- tive idea, and yet so quickly fade out of full consciousness into sub-consciousness that most of us never knew we had intuitive ideas, until we began the study of intuition in mental science. Illustration. — I see a log as extended : my percept is log- extension ; my intuitive idea is that of space, the neces- sary condition of extension. Logically, I knew log-exten- sion before I knew space. But the idea of space came to the mind simultaneously with the idea of log -ex tension. I am fully conscious of the idea of log-extension ; but only sub-conscious of my idea of space. That I must have got- ten the idea of space in this way, follows from the fact that I could not know log-extension apart from the notion of all extension or space. The same may be applied to all percepts. INTUITION. 231 Relation of Intuitioh to Recognition. — The ul- timate function of memory is recognition. But w/ia^ do we recognize ? We recognize a former item of con- sciousness as now recalled by memory. This is a partic- ular identity ; back of it lies the primary idea of absolute IDENTITY. Apart from this primary notion, we can not tell why the memory should try to recollect anything at all. Back of the recognition, lies the motive of memory- activity. The recognition of a particular identity would be impossible apart from the intuitive belief i}Li2X there is such a thirig as identity. There could be no recognition apart frdm the fundamental idea of identity. The topic will be resumed under its proper heading. Relation of Intuition to Imagination.— The ideal creations of imagination pre-suppose the primary idea of space, of the beautiful, etc. Imagination is lim- ited in its activity by several of these ideas. We may have imagined or dreamt that befell or flew ; but we always fell or flew through space. We can not imagine anything outside of space. We can not imagine anything that does not pre-suppose the ideas of :^^/^;^r^, number, infinity, etc. We thus see that intuition is fundamental to imagination. Relation of Intuition to Judgment, — The pur- pose of judgment is to detect a particular agreement or disagreement. This pre-supposes the primary notion of EQUALITY. Why should we look for an agreement if the mind had no idea that there was such a thing as equality ? Relation of Intuition to Generalization. — As a preparatory function, generalization belongs to judg- ment. By generalization we synthesize abstracts into a concept ; but such a concept never comprehends anything not furnished by perception, by experience. By such a synthesis we can not get the ideas of space, existence, in- finity. These ideas comprehend a great deal more than our synthesis of abstracts could furnish. We have never 232 INTUITION. experienced, all the space, existence, infinity, etc., that are denoted by our concepts of these things. We conclude, then, that neither abstraction nor generalization can fur- nish primary ideas ; but that abstraction and generaliza- tion presuppose intuition. Relation of Intuition to Reasoning, — The axi- oms of mathematics and the laws of logic are statements of primary truths. These axioms are not the product of reasoning ; but reasoning operates according to these truths, pre-supposes these as fundamental laws of human belief. Every axiom and law of logic is the outgrowth of an intuitive 2^(?<2. The axiom, "Two things separate- ly equal to a third thing are equal to each other' ' , is an outgrowth of the idea of KQUA1.1TY. The necessary truth that, ''What is true of the whole is true of its parts", is an outgrowth of the idea of idkntity. All necessary truths and axioms are primary truths of intuition, In- tuition is thus fundamental to reasoning. The products of intuition are not only primary ideas but also primary truths. An IDKA is a mental product that can be expressed in a single word or in a phrase. The primary sources of ideas are pejxeptioyi and intuition. "A primary idKA is one not furnished by sense or derived from other ideas' ' . Pri- mary ideas are notions which lie back of and condition all other ideas. A truth is a true thought, a combination of ideas. A thought expressed in words is called a propo- sition. The sources of truths are judgment, reasoning and intuition. ' 'A primary truth is a truth which lies back of and conditions all other truths' ' . We have already il- lustrated primary ideas. The axioms of mathematics and the laws of thought are primary truths. Examples : The INTUITION. 233 whole is equal to the sum of all its parts. A thing can not, at the same moment, both exist and not exist. ^numeration, — We have already noticed primary ideas, have proved their existence, their origin, their character, their relation to other mental products, and their lofty mission. The primary ideas usually admitted as such are: i. Space. 2. Time. 3. Identity. 4. Cause. 5. The Beautiful. 6. The Right. 7. The True. 8. Num- ber. 9. Equality. 10. Existence. 11. Substance. 12. Infinity. By and by we shall examine some of these in detail ; but for the present we shall examine primary truths. PRIMA RV TRUTHS. 154' A primary truth is a self-evident truth not derived from other truths but fundamental to other truths. Chronological Relation of Ideas and Truths. — The nucleus of every primary truth is a primary idea. This indicates the chronological relation of the idea and the truth. The idea chronologically precedes the truth. This is not always clearly noticed by writers on mental science. Some writers hold that the truth precedes the idea. This seems to be a logical fallacy which we can detect by an examination of a primary truth. I^et us take for example the primary truth, "All material existences occupy space". The nucleus of this judgment, or truth, is the idea of space:. It is surely not possible ordinarily to conceive oi judgmeyits before we have ideas. The child- mind steps from ideas to thought. This is the natural way. By analogy we should conclude that primary truths are formed in the same way. Apart from this pre- sumption, the composition of the truth can not be account- 234 INTUITION. ed for, unless it is actually a composition by the mind — a composition based upon a nucleus, the primary idea. In the above example the nucleus is the idea of space. Bod- ies are noticed as extended in space : the first notion is space ; the second, the truth stated above. Existence of Primary Truths, — Some few writ- ers, the so-called experiential school, deny the existence of self-evident, or primary truths. They hold that all such truths are products derived from sense-experience ; they claim that such truths are the products of judgment and reasoning. Most writers admit the existence of pri- mary truths. Among those who admit that we have self- evident and fundamental truths of intuition, are Bacon, Leibnitz and Kant. Historical Names of Prim^ary Truths, — Vari- ous names have been given to these primary, fundamen- tal truths. Primary truths have been called instinctive BKI.IKFS, instinctive JUDGMENTS, A PRIORI COGNITIONS, FUNDAMENTAL I.AWS of human belief. The word instinc- tive denotes spontaneous origin. The phrase a priori re- fers to an origin not dependent upon a reflective process or upon experience. The other terms used explain them- selves. Apart from the admission of philosophers that we do have primary truths, let us try to prove that the ad- mission is correct and that these truths are not derived from other ideas ; but that they are distinct products. Primary Truths Are not Derived Truths. — We have found that Judgment and Reasoning furnish the mind with thoughts or truths. These truths are the products of direct comparison, generalization and mediate comparison. Direct comparison of particular ideas gives us a particular judgment, a part icui^ar truth. Ex- amples : Paul is a man. "Heat expands iron". Experi- mental induction furnishes the mind with a general TRUTH. Example: "Heat expands all metals". De- INTUITION. 235 ductioii furnishes the mind with deductive truths. Example : The square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two sides of a right angled triangle. Generalization also furnishes truths. Exam- ples : The deer is a quadruped. Man is an animal. All these truths are derived from the domain of sense ; they are less in extent than self-evident truths. Jitdg7nent Ca7i Not Flemish primary truths. — Take for example the truth, "Two things separately equal to a third thing are equal to each other". Can any experience be so wide as to guarantee such a judgment ? Nor does judgment furnish this truth ; for this truth lies back of judgment. We should never look for the equalit}^ of two things, did we not have the /^^??^«;;?^«/«/ notion of equali- ty. Reasoni7ig Can Not Furnish seLF-evident truths. — These truths lie back of induction and deduction. The primary truths are fundamental laws of thought in the reasoning processes. Reasoning does furnish truths, but not such a truth as, (2 -|- 2) = 4. This truth is not a deductive judgment nor an inductive judgment ; it is the fundamental pre-supposition in operations of mathematics. Nor could reasoning furnish such a truth as, Conduct must be either right or wrong. Back of all inference from particular judgments, such as, Paul is wrong and John is right, lies the notion, the self-evident, irresistible truth that, All conduct must be either right or wrong. "Take away these elementary truths, and neither science nor reasoning is longer possible, for want of a beginning or founda- tion." The preceding proposition indicates a line of proof for the existence of primary truths, truths of intuition. There II 236 INTUITION. are a number of such elementary truths upon which we base all scientific products. Let us learn how to recog- nize them by their invariable criteria. TESTS OF PRIMARY TRUTHS. 156, Primary truths are recognized by such tests as self-evidence, necessity, simplicity, and universality. Tests of Primary Truths. — The thoughtful stu- dent will want to know how to recognize and to distin- guish primary truths. Hamilton and Reid enumerate some five tests. The most usual tests are those mentioned in our proposition. Self-Evidence, — A primary truth carries its own evidence. lyCt us take an example : "All material bodies occupy space' ' . This truth is at once admitted by every one whose mind is sufficiently mature and intelligent to comprehend the meaning of the truth. The evidence lies in our own mind. We can not doubt it. We do not doubt the evidence of our mind. We can not conceive the contrary. We never expect an exception to this truth founded upon the primary idea of space. All bodies must occupy spac2. If our best friend told us he had found an exception, we should rather disbelieve him than such a truth. W^e may not be able formally to state the self- evi- dence of a logical or mathematical axiom, but we act upon such axiom as if we knew its self-evidence. We never ask any one to prove an axiom. When the mind has grasped the statement of such an axiom as, "Space con- tains all material objects", we never try to prove it by in- duction or deduction. Necessity. — A primary truth is a necessary truth. We have already seen that a necessary truth is an unal- INI^UITION. 237 terable truth ; it can not but be as it is ; the contrary sup- position is absurd. Time, place, agency, environments, can not alter the truth stated when we affirm that (2 -|- 2) = 4. Our judgment and reasoning operate upon this truth with implicit belief. It is an instinctive belief. A primary truth will remain a truth in Kternity as it is in Time. A primary truth has always been a necessary truth and always will be. We can not even imagine that God would change such a primary truth. The mind can go back no further in its test than the primary truth. Search for proof makes the mind feel like a great blank. Though men have tried to make themselves believe that "Phenomena are uncaused," they practically reeled back upon some confession that the , world was not made by chance. The sceptic in his premises assumes necessary truths, and thus foils his own skepticism. Theory may vaunt itself, and Unbelief may exclaim, "There is no God" , but careful observation will show that these very men act upon the belief that "Phenomena are caused." They confess the necessary truth in their daily conduct. Simplicity, — A primary truth is not derived from components ; it is not complex ; it can not be analyzed into any more simple judgment. We may alter the sen- tence ; but the judgment remains the same. It is impos- sible to derive a primary truth from induction. The truth has beeen in the mind and has been acted upon prior to education and reflection. Induction could only vouch for probability ; but a primary truth is not merely probable, is not contingent. We may always ask for the proof of a contingent truth, and we dare expect a proof ; but we never ask for an analysis of a primary truth. Let us notice the difference between such a simple, a priori truth and one derived from induction or reflection. Both may be neces- sary truths, and yet one is derived, the other is a priori. * 'All bodies gravitate towards an ultimate centre. ' ' ' 'The 238 INTUITION. whole is greater than any of its parts. ' ' The former is a derived truth ; it is based upon induction. The concki- sion may be absolutely certain ; but we can analyze the judgment, retrace its origin into many particular hypothe- ses and analogies. The latter is an a priori, a simple truth, that cannot be analyzed. It is a simple judgment bas^d on the idea of identity or equality. Disagreement is predicated of the whole and any of its parts. A con- trary supposition also leads to the absurd. JJniverssility, — A primary truth is a universal truth. This follows from the fact that a primary truth is a neces- sary truth. A primary truth is a universal truth, because it is acted upon by all men of every clime and age. That Paul can not at the same moment exist and not exist, would not ba doubted by anybody. The truth would be called a truth by child or man as soon as either compre- hended the meaning of the thought. Though men dis- agree about many inductions from experiment, analogy, testimony and hypothesis, they all agree in the admission of a primary truth. They may not know how to express a primary truth, they may be only sub- conscious of the existence of such truths, they may not be able to test such a truth by proper criteria, nor to recognize primary truths as such in distinction from other comprehended truths ; but not-withstanding these possible limitations, all men act upon primary truths as necessary and self-evi- dent beliefs. The philosophical systems of Egypt and Persia and Greece and Rome and the Modern world, are universal admissions of the existence of primary truths. Every man will detect himself conforming his conduct to such truths. They are the necessary conditions of a rea- sonable and responsible human life. JEniimeration of Primary Truths. — Primary truths are based upon primary ideas. A number of pri- mary truths are based upon every primary idea. The INTUITION. 239 idea is made the nucleus of the truth. It is, how- ever, not very easy to arrange an inchisive enumeration, and this has usually been regarded as practically impos- sible. lyOgically it is possible ; but philosophers have, as it seems, never undertaken to arrange such an enumera- tion. We shall enumerate several primary truths based upon the various primary ideas. The student may add an indefinite number according to choice. Based Upon Space, — "Space is the necessary con- dition of material existence," "Matter can not exist out of space, ' ' ' 'AH matter is contained in space, ' ' ' 'All matter occupies spsice,'' "All motion is in space," "All motion progresses from point to point in space," "All motion must end within space." Based upon Time. — "Time is the necessary condi- tion of events, " "All events must be in time," "Every event occupies time," "All thought-motion occupies time," "Continued existence occupies time." Based upon Identity, — "A thing cannot doi/i be and 7iot be,'' "A thing must either be or not be," I am the A. \ ^2i\x\& person to-day as I was yesterday, A = ( 2 H" i)- Based Upon Cause, — "All phenomena are caused," "There is a great First Cause," "I am the cause of my own conduct," "I am not 7nj' oivn cause." Based on the Beautiful, — "Not all things are beautiful," "Some things must be beautiful," "Some things must be not- beautiful," "I am either beautiful or not-beautiful." Based on the Right, — "Some things are absolute- ly right," "The true must be either right or not-right," "The true can not be both right and not- right," "I am a moral being," "I am a free agent," "God is the Absolute Right." We shall not attempt to enumerate other pri- 240 INTUITION. mary truthvS ; but sum them up in a comprehensive prop- osition. Personal existence, personal identity, universal cause, mate- rial existence, uniformity of nature, personal freedom, God's in- finity, etc., are primary truths. The thoughtful student will readily notice the wide ap- plication of primary truths. Every science, whether in- ductive or deductive, involves such truths. Inductive science pre-supposes them ; they are fundamental start- ing points. Deductive science is an unfolding of such truths. Mathematics and Logic are based upon axioms, and these axioms are primary truths. The principles of Aesthetics and Kthics are primary truths. Ontology is the science of Being. It is based upon the notion of existe?ice. PRIMARY IDEAS IN DETAIL. The ideas of Intuition may be classified under several heads. We shall indicate these heads as follows : I. The True. II. The Aesthetic. III. The Right. The True and the Aesthetic and the Right here denote wide boundary lines. The True includes such ideas as : I. Space. 2. Time. 3. Identity. 4. Cause. The Aes^ thetic includes modifications usually indicated as The Beautiful, The Sublime, Wit and Humor. It involves the discussion of Taste. The Right includes all the mod- ifications of the Moral. It involves the discussion of Conscience. Such ideas as Number, Equality, Existence, Substance and Infinity, can not be treated of in the limits of a common text-book. INTUITION. 241 A. vSPACE. Space is the necessary condition of material existence ; it is something real and yet neither matter nor mind. Nature of Space. — We know what we mean by space, and yet can not accurately define it. We know what is meant by saying that all matter occupies space, and that matter can not exist outside of space. For want of more definite terms, philosophers have defined space as the necessary condition of material existence. It is not matter ; but the condition of matter. All matter has ex- tension ; extension is the inseparable attribute of all mat- ter ; and extension implies space. There could be no extension if there were no space. Space is not matter ; for it has none of , the qualities of matter. Since it is not matter, it can not be annihilated. It is to be doubted whether any power can or, at any rate ivill, annihilate space. Space is not mind or spirit ; it is not a spiritual substance ; for it has not the attribute of intelligence. We might even say that space is the condition of spiritual movement, of the movements of personal spirits, and there- fore that it is not itself spiritual. And yet space is a re- ality. It is an independent reality. It is not a mere idea, a conception of the mind, as some writers tried to imagine. If it were merely a figment of fancy, or an idea, then ideas would be the condition of space as an exis- tence, and wherever there is an absence of ideas, there ought to be no space. This is surely an absurd view. We can not imagine that there is no space over a great desert even when there is no human being to conceive the idea of space. We can not fairly suppose that if all minds were annihilated there could be no space. The thought is beyond Reason and beyond proof. 242 INTUITION. 159- The idea of space is conceived by Intuition when Perception presents the proper occasion for suggestion. Origin of the Idea, — We do have the idea of space. Whither shall we trace its origin ? When did the idea come to us, and what was the occasion ? We can not trace the origin of the idea of space to abstraction ; for space is not a quality, such as color, form, or hardness. Space is not a percept, and on this ground can not fall under the operation of abstraction. We can not refer it to generali- zation ; for generalization is a synthesis of abstracts. And moreover, generalization being a mere synthesis of ab- stracts obtained from sense -experience, could never fur- nish so wide an idea as that of space. Judgment proper and reasoning do not deal with ideas as such ; but with thoughts and truths. Hence, we must refer the idea of space to a distinct power. This power is intuition. In- tuition conceives the idea in our earliest perceptions of bodies as extended. Perception presents the quality of extension. A stone, or a book, or a log has extension. If so, they occupy vSpace ; since space is the necessary con- dition of extension. The perception of extension in mat- ter thus becomes a suggestion. Intuition catches this sug- gestion, and operates simultaneously with perception. There are thus two products formed. The one is a per- cept, the other a sort of concept. It is, however, a far wider concept than those of generalization. It is a con- cept of intuition, and is formed so instantaneously that the idea fades at once into sub -consciousness. It is also to be noticed that perception is the necessary occasion for intuitive activity. Apart from the perception of bodies as extended, there would be no idea of space. There would be space ; but not the idea of space. The idea of space is thus conceived by intuition when perception presents INTUITION. 243 the proper sense-occasion. The occasion has no power of suggestion in itself ; but intuition becomes operative under the occasion. 160, Upon the attributes of space are based the axioms of theo- retical and applied Geometry. Attributes of Space. — As a real something, space has several attributes, i. It is contiyiuoiis ; hence it can not be broken, or hindered from continuous dimension. 2. It has three dimensions, and is therefore capable of measurement. 3. It is therefore quantitative and may be estimated as much or little. 4. It is the condition of ex- tension and thus gives rise to yf^^^r^, 6>ry^r/;2, 5. \\.\^ in- finite in direction. We may enumerate these attributes as : I. Continuousness. 2. Dimension. 3. Quantity. 4. Permission of Form. 5. Infinity. Upon these attri- butes are based such axioms as "All matter occupies space," All motion occurs in space, etc. The science of Geometry and its practical application in mensuration, trigonometry, etc., grow out of a deductive analysis of space and the forms of which space admits. Geometry as the science oiforin and of quantity, is not only of practi- cal value ; but is a most potent factor in mental discipline. While the culture of reasoning in Geometry does not im- ply good judgment in the affairs of life, or even a thorough comprehension of the higher ideas of intuition, and while it confines its activity \.o foinn and quantity, it may fit the normal mind for more acute and accurate reasoning in other departments of deduction or induction. While the study of Geometr}^ is not a test of moralit}^ or intellectu- al balance, it is a study developed early in every civiliza- tion and indicates constructive energies of reason. Much more may be said upon the application of space and the idea of space. II''' 244 INTUITION. B. TIMK. i6i. Time is the necessary condition of successive existence ; it is something real rather than a mere idea or a mere relation. Nature of Xime. — We know what is meant by say- ing that all motion occupies time ; and, that apart from time, there could be no motion, no change, no succes- sion, no events ; but it is not an easy matter to define time. If time as an objective reality became also an ob- ject of sense- perception, we should be able to define it ; but since time is nof an object of sense, we are at a loss for words to define it. It is possible, however, to show what it is not Indirectly we may also show what it is. We are ready to admit that fwte and the idea of time are two different things. If time is merely an idea, the re- moval of minds would remove all time. This is contrary to Reason and proof. We know that time is not affected or annihilated by the absence of the idea of time. Our idea of time is a variable something ; but time is an in- variable something, a something to be accurately meas- ured by mechanical contrivance. The construction of clocks and watches is a visible proof that time is some- thing objective, a reality not even depende7it upon ideas. Nor is time a mere relation of successive ideas or thoughts, as if the relation of thoughts had a certain effect upon our mind and this effect were time. In this case, if we could remove thought, the relation of thoughts would no longer exist and, therefore, time would be annihilated. But we do not usually think of time as a something that can be annihilated. Time there is, whether there be thought or no thought. The blotting out of thought as it occurs in death does not result in annihilation of any time ; such a thing is unimaginable. Succession is an at- I N T U I T'l O N . 245 tribute of events ; and time is the necessan- condition of succession. No historical event ever occurred outside of time, and no spiritual movement can occur outside of time. This holds tru'^ of the future world as well as of the present. The continuation of thought in the world to come, will depend upon time. We ma}-, then, speak of time as the space of duration. Someivhere in time is as definite a notion as somewhere in place. Even the transmission of sensations from the hand to the brain occupies time, and the moment of sensation is someichere in time. Sen- sation and thought are conditioned by qitantity and point of time, though time is independent of sensation or thought. Thinking occupies time just as much so as a passing wagon. All motion whether of matter or thought is con- ditioned by time. The idea of time is conceived by Intuition when Perception presents the proper occasion for suggestion. Origin of the Idea of Time. — We do have the idea of time. Whither shall we trace its origin ? When did the idea come to us, and w^hat was the occasion ? The idea of time is not a product oi perception. Time can not be presented b}- an}- of the senses ; since it has not the qualities of an object of sense. It has no color, no form, no sweetness, no quality for perception. The idea of time does not originate from abstraction, because ab- sti'action draws away qualities of sense- objects. Since time is not a quality, but a thing, it can not enter the mind as an abstract, or a succession of abstracts ; w^e can not get the idea of time hy generalization. Generalization could only sjmthesize experienced abstracts. Such a sjm- thesis sureh' could not give birth to our idea of time. This idea is a far wider concept. Indeed, it is not a con- 246 intItition. cept in the ordinary sense of synthesis ; but an instanta- neous concept of intuition. So instantaneous is the con- cept of time that we have not the least recollection of the experience that first suggested time. The first concept of time was a stib-conscions birth of an intuitive idea. It is, however, true that, apart from the suggestion furnished by perception or consciousness, we should never have got- ten the idea of time. How, then, did this idea come to us and what was the occasion ? The idea of time came to us in our earliest experience of thoughts. These thoughts were not stationary, but successive. Succession is the characteristic of events and of thoughts. Each thought and each event occurred sonieivhcre in time and occupied some time. This is a matter of experience. The expe- rience may be furnished by consciousness or by percep- tion. The experience of events and thoughts as protended in time becomes a suggestion for intuition. Just as the experience of bodies as extended implies space, so the ex- perience of events and thoughts as protended implies time. Intuition catches this suggestion, and the instan- taneous intuitive product is the idea of time. The first cognition of a thought as protended in time was instanta- neously accompanied by the activity of intuition. The product of this activity was the idea of time. We can not remember this first experience, nor the birth of the idea of time. Because this birth was instantaneous, it at once became a sub-conscious mental product. J63, Our measurement of time is a slow acquirement, and is mod- ified by age, sleep and absorbing pursuits. Measurement of Time. — The idea of time is an early intuitive product ; but the child can not at once ac- curately estimate time. The little child is, as it were, INTUITION. 247 lost somewhere in time and can not find his way out until later in life. Age, sleep and self-absorption, cause the child to lose his place, his somewhere in the series of his continuous existence. lyife is a series of succession. This succession is one of thoughts and events. Every soul has a somewhere in this series. The present somewhere, the present day, is measured by a gradually lengthening standard of measure. All that is past becomes this stand- ard in gradual succession. The little child thus measures his present day by the amount of his past. In proportion to this past, his present day is quite long. As the child grows oivDKR, his present day becomes shorter just as his past, his standard of comparison, becomes longer. The old man's present day is quite short in proportion to his past. The older we grow, the shorter seems our present day. Sleep affects our estimate of passing time, or our estimate of the time through which we are living. When we fall asleep, we lose our place in the series of daily ex- periences, and consequently lose our standard of measure- ment. This explains why dreams seem to occupy so much more time than they really do occupy. In the moment of waking up, we again find our place in the series, and thus recover our standard of measurement. It is to be noticed here that, without the measurement of time by clocks and watches, we can not usually remember our place in the day's programme. The hour passes quickly or slowly in proportion to a conseious cognition of our place in the day. Absorbing pursuits, the interesting recitation, the amusing lecture, the exciting game, thus cause us to lose our place in time, and consequently our standard of accurate measurement. It is of some importance to be able to remember yV^.y/ where in time we are in a da3^'s work. If we could remember this, we should always be able to estimate how much attention might be given to successive topics in a programme. The fact that the mind 248 INTUITION. estimates the quantity of passing time by its proportion to a remembered past, explains why in God's mind "a thousand years are but as a day." 164, Upon the attributes of time are based the axioms of practical life and its operations. The Attributes of Time. — As a real something, time has several attributes, i. It is continuous, that is, it can not be broken off, though calendars transfer a date. It can not be broken off, as if there was no time for half anight. 2. Since it is con tzmwus, it has dimension. Un- like space, it has dimension in only one direction — it has length. This length can be estimated. 3. Hence, time has the attribute of quantity. We estimate it as so much. 4. Since it can be estimated as so much, it admits of the expression of quajitity. This expression is accomplished by NUMBER. Time thus is closely related to the idea of number, the basis of Arithmetical computation. 5. The quantity of time is infinite. Time, thus has the attribute of infinity. In practical life, time is measured as so much value. We measure the value of a life- time in pro- portion to our use of time. Time and our measure of it thus become the basis of computation. Number, or that by which we express the measurement of time, together with time, unfold themselves into all sorts of application. The unit of number and the unit of time are units upon which are based arithmetical calculations of infinite vari- ety. As a factor in labor, trade and development, time can hardly be estimated in its true value. In numerical calculation, time forms an element of capital and interest, determines by its seasons our sowings and harvests, un- folds the vast historical structure of ages, and bounds our aims and ambitions. A half hour lost is lost forever, INTUITION. 249 because time is continuous. The fact that it has the at- tributes of length and infinity, leads the mind to grasp a little of the meaning of an infinite line into the past, and of an infinite line into future eternities. The practical value of time is best realized when we learn by conscious effort to use each passing hour for the glory of God. C. IDENTITY. 165. Identity is not resemblance, not sameness of chemical com- position ; but absolute oneness and continuity of individual essence. Nature of Identity. — The word identity is derived from the Latin zde?n, and means sameness, a contimced sameness from some preceding moment to a subsequent moment. We might then briefly define identity as absolute oneness and continued sameness of individual essence. The question of identity is whether a perceived something or somebody is the same one or a different one from the one formerly perceived. I maj^ to-day see two school girls who resemble each other ever so much ; to-morrow I may see only 07ie of these girls ; but having once seen them together, I at once ask myself whether the one that I see is Nora or Cora. This is the question of identity. It can not be separated from at least two cognitions — one in the past and the other in the present or future. Identity is directly opposed to diversity as unity is opposed to plu- rality. The idea of identity always suggests that of plu- rality. It is thus a relative idea just like good, right, straight, etc. The opposite of such ideas is present as soon as one of them enters our consciousness. I can not think of identity without thinking of plurality as possible. Not Resemblance. — But identity is not resem- blance ; for resemblance implies at least tu'o things. The 250 INTUITION. very word resemblance is opposed to continued oneness or non-otherness. Whenever we speak of things that re- semble each other, there is other- ness. Resemblance there may be along with identity ; but often, perhaps usually, there is no resemblance, or but very little. There can be identity without resemblance, and there can be identity with some sort of resemblance ; but the resem- blance does not constitute the identity. I^et us take a concrete example of resemblance. Nora and Cora re- semble each other in complexion, size, voice, features and movement. Our first acquaintance with Nora and Cora may reveal these resemblances in a general way. On seeing one of them alone, we can not at once tell which is Nora or Cora ; but we do know that Nora is not Cora, and that Cora is not Nora in spite of all resemblances. When both are in our presence, we may not readily dis- tinguish Nora from Cora ; but we do know that there are two girls, not one girl. The Nora of to-day may resemble the Nora of yesterday. In this case there is resemblance and identity. The Nora of childhood, however, differs in many respects from the Nora of to-day and yet she is Nora, — she is not Cora nor anybody else but her identi- cal self. Not Sameness of Chemical Composition. — Nor does identity consist in sameness of chemical compo- sition. Two bird-eggs, two ant-eggs, two rain-drops, two rose-buds, or two pieces of wood, may have exactly the same chemical composition. They may resemble each other in size, weight, color, hardness, fiber, sub- stance, effect and in all other respects, but still the one is not the other, — the one is not identical with the other. Each one is identical only with itself A piece of rye- stalk six inches long may be cut off, and then divided in- to six equal pieces. These pieces have sameness of chem- ical composition ; but no one could think that the six INTUITION. 251 pieces were identical, even if there is complete resem- blance. Identity Defined. — Identity is then absolute one- ness and continuity of individual essence. This con- tinued sameness may be complete or incomplete. If there is absolute sameness in anything, that thing is completely identical with itself. If there is comparative sameness, or general sameness, in anything, that thing is incom- pletely identical with itself. The latter is the popular sense of identity. God only has complete or absolute identity. He is absolutely unchangeable in all respects. Human beings have a less complete identity. Animals, plants and inorganic things have a still less complete identity. Indeed, we can predicate identity of inorganic matter and of organic matter ; but only in the popular sense. These distinctions give rise to several species of identity. We will enumerate them : i. Absolute iden- tity. 2. Personal identity. 3. Identity of organic mat- ter. 4. Identity of inorganic matter. FO[/J^ SPECIES OF WENT/ TV. 166, Absolute identity is absolute oneness and continuity of indi- vidual essence, such as can be predicated of God. Absolute Identity. — Absolute identity does not per- mit any change of particles or any change of spiritual character. God is the same yesterday, to-day and forever. In a less complete sense we might predicate absolute iden- tity of angels. These beings are spirits. Since angels are not corporeal, there is no change or loss or addition of particles. According to the Word of God, some angels have changed in spiritual character. We now speak of good and of bad angels. The Bible predicates ab.solute 252 INTUITION. identity of good angels and of bad angels. We must re- member, however, that the bad angel was once a good angel, and as such his life essence, his individuality was preserved. In other words, the bad angel of to-day is identical with the good angel of the da^^ before the Fall. In all these cases there is continuity of individual essence. There has been no break in the life of such spiritual be- ings, no other-ness, no exchange of one for another, no meta-morphosis. Absolute identity is also personal iden- tity ; but not all personal identity is absolute. J67. Personal identity is oneness and continuity of personal es- sence as evidenced by conscious intuition. Personal Identity. — We speak of human beings as having personal identity. Personal identity does not con- sist in resemblance or sameness of chemical composition. We may become old, stronger, taller, larger and wiser ; we may improve or go backward in character or body ; but each one of us still remains a one, the same one ; each one is still continued as a personal soul. As long as the soul continues to exist, each later self is identical with his former self. The Napoleon of St. Helena is identical with the Napoleon of Corsican birth. If this is not true, then at some particular moment, as at Waterloo, another soul, another individual essence miist have entered the body of Napoleon, taken up his former life thread, and continued it to St. Helena. What then became of the Napoleon- soul that lived in the same body before the battle of Wa- terloo ? The supposition is contradictory to Reason and proof. The very supposition implies two souls. These two souls resemble each other so much as to escape detec- tion ; and, by the supposition, the guilty soul escaped some whither and the new soul suffered exile at St. He- INTUITION. 253 leiia ; but no one would say that the latter soul was the former unless the former has continued as the latter. If the soul in Eternity is not the same soul that lived either a pure life or an impure life on earth, what is it that is rewarded or punished ? The contradiction may be represented by the syllogism : a = b ; but b ^= c ; yet a = not c. 168, The identity of organic matter is its continuity of life under the same general organization. Organic Matter and Its Identity, — Organic matter includes animal life and plant life. Zoology and Botany are descriptive of organic matter. We predicate identity of animals and plants. We never suppose that a horse becomes another horse, or that a tree becomes another tree. The heliotrope never becomes a pear-tree, and the pear-tree never becomes an oak-tree. In the an- imal and in the plant there is a something, a nerve-life or a sap-life, that continues from the germ into the full- grown animal or plant. The acorn germ is a diminutive oak ; the life of the germ is continued as the life of the oak. The horse may grow older, may become lean and lame ; but he is the same old horse that we rode down hill in our boyhood. The Elm that over- shadows the fountain is the same elm that stood there in our childhood. The tree grew, became stronger, the storms broke off a dozen drooping branches, and the ambitious boys may have robbed it of much of its bark ; but it is still the dear old tree under which we cooled our parched lips when sum- mer suns were burning hot. The identity of species and genera is no less certain than the identity of individual animals or plants. 254 INTUITION. Botany and Zoology do not record a single case in which a mouse became a tiger, or that a wheat-germ sprouted and developed into a turnip. We never even look for such results, and would be surprised beyond meas- ure if any person should so report. Every animal and every plant preserves its individual identity under a gc7i- eral oiganization. The animal is known by essential characteristics, by some expression of a life- force that has continued the same unit from time to time. The horse, for example, is known by his neigh and his hoof. The plant is known by its peculiar fiber and structural com- position ; by its laws of growth ; by its fruit and by its particular chemistry. It is hardly possible to estimate the practical value of this organic identity. The stock- raiser, the farmer and the fruit-grower depend upon its truth. The identity of inorganic matter is its continuity of existence as the same numerical unity. Inorganic Matter and Its Identity. — We pred- icate a sort of identity of the stone upon which we tread, the shoe which we wear, and the old log-hut. It is only an incomplete identity, and the term identity is a loose, popular word in this application. The stone, the shoe and the old log-hut are, strictly speaking, losing particles of matter every passing moment. Inorganic matter need not preserve its size or shape or weight in order to remain identical ; but its crystal struduix or its chemical composition dare not be changed. If these are changed, then we no longer predicate identity of inorganic matter. The Bunker Hill Monument has identity of inorganic matter, because its existence has never been interrupted ; it has not become other in chemical composition nor in the crystal .structure of its granite. The lead-pencil in INTUITION. 255 my hand has a sort of identity ; it is the lead pencil that I bought and used until it was a mere stump of a thing — the identical lead-pencil still. The o\&knife which I use is the same knife I have used for years. There may be a screw lost, a blade broken off or ground away ; but it is the knife of years. It has had a continued existence as a single unit. How many new parts may be added until it loses its identity is an old puzzle, and perhaps difficult to decide ; but as long as it is not other in continued exis- tence, as long as it has its own original chaj^acter, so long it has preserved a kind of identity. The nickel in my hand may pass through many purses ; but it will not, in its wanderings, become a dime or a dollar or another nickel. As long as it retains its original character it is the same nickel that began its wanderings from the Mint. Men go to Palestine, to Mount Calvary ; but unless even this particular place preserves its identity of position and relation, the pilgrim can not be sure that he has been to Mount Calvary. We know our rooms, our homes, our apparel, our neighborhood, our streams and rivers by a sort of identity that belongs to each of them. ORIGIN OF THE IDEA OF IDENTITY. The idea of identity is conceived by Intuition when Percep- tion and comparison present a suggestive occasion. Origin of the Idea of Identity. — We have the idea of identity. It is perhaps difficult to tell how we got the idea and still more difficult, or impossible, to tell when intuition gave us the first idea of identity. Identity sure- ly is not a material something, and yet it is a reality, a relation, a continued oneness, a something preserved from day to day, and in some cases through all eternities. We 256 INTUITION. have an idea of this something ; and this idea can not be a product of perception, abstraction or generaHzation. Comparison is the occasion and intuition the cause of this idea. A concrete example will help us to understand something of the process : The little white girl taken captive by the Indians had heard her mother sing a cradle song, had often said a little prayer on her mother's knee. Years afterwards, when she was ransomed, she had changed a great deal, had grown to a kind of Indian woman-hood, had forgotten her mother's face, her mother's language. The child's mother is told that a number of pale-faced daughters have just been ransomed, and that her daughter may be among them. Will mother recog- nize her daughter ? She must see or hear her child to know her ! And when mother and daughter meet, they may not know by sight, for both have changed ; but the cra- dle-song is repeated, and the child knows her mother ; the scar on the daughter's arm is recognized, and the mother knows her daughter. What are the mental steps by which the mother identifies her child and the child, her mother ? The steps involved are about the same as the original experience by which the mind conceives its first notion of identity. Apart from such experience, there would have been intuition, but no intuitive birth of the idea of identity. The steps involved may be summed up as follows : 1. Several cognitions. 2. Several corresponding 2inA possible objects. 3. Comparison of the several cognitions. 4. The detection of identity or plurality. The several cognitions must refer to successive times, as yesterday and to-day. There must be the possibility of several objects that so much resemble each other as to raise the question whether perhaps there is 7iot identity but plurality. The several cognitions must be compared. INTUITION. 257 This is a function of judgment. Judgment, or compari- son, thus detects that there is but one object, and that this object was known under several cognitions ; or it de- tects that there is a phirality of objects, and that there is no identity. Such an experience becomes a suggestion to be seized upon by intuition ; and intuition instantaneous- 1}^ conceives the far-reaching idea of identity. Compari- son detected a particular identity ; but intuition gave birth to an idea far more comprehensive than any synthe- sis of judgments could account for. It is to be noticed here, that consciousness is also an occasion. Consciousness is a necessary condition for the activity of intuition as well as of perception and comparison. As an occasion, con- sciousness is the indispensable necessity. But we must not therefore imagine that consciousness is identity. I/Ocke^s View of Identity. — The great philosopher seems to think that consciousness is identity. This is contradictory to experience. If consciousness were iden- tity, the loss of consciousness would be the loss of identi- ty. We know this is not true, and we act accordingly. When our friend swoons away, or is in the delirium of fever, or insane, or in the coffin, we do not ask who is it ? Who was it ? We know that it was our friend and that this is our friend's bod}^ We know that the swooning friend is the identical friend of our acquaintance, and we bring him every help in our power. Consciousness as Belated to Personal Iden- tity. — The sane mind knows its own identity from day to day. Consciousness affirms that the present self is the same as the recalled and recognized self. An exercise of comparison is involved in this affirmation of consciousness. It should be noticed that consciousness alone can not af- firm personal identity. Memory and judgment are also involved. 258 INTUITION. PRACTICAL APPLICATION. 171 Identity and our confidence in detecting identity constitute the bases of recognition and retribution. Mistaken Identity, — It is often difficult to decide whether, a man is the murderer or somebody that looks like him, or that seems to answer certain suspicious cir- cumstances. Every now and then the ivrong man is con- demned to death. In spite of caution and sincerity, earthly tribunals will not always be able to establish the proper proofs of identity. The bank-clerk feels this, and demands that some one known to himself and to the bearer of an order affirm the identity of this bearer. He will not cash an order until he is certain that he has detected identity. Identity the Basis of Confidence. — For a mo- ment, Rip Van Winkle could not tell whether he was himself or that other man against the tree. This would be our actual fate, were we not able at any moment to dis- tinguish ourselves from everybody else. We could not recognize our to- day -soli as our yesterday -s^\{ without this certainty. The Basis of Progress and Improvement , — We could not apply our products of yesterday, nor con- nect our yesterdays by means of to-days, if we were not able to identify ourselves to-day as a continuation from yesterday. Improvement and progress in the individual and in nations are only possible because of such con- tinuity of existence, be it the continuity of personal essence or the continuity of situation and relation. Recognition Based Upon Identity.— We recog- nize: our friend as the identical friend of our confidence. It is important that we should, or else our own firesides and our business concerns would be as unsafe as foes and INTUITION. 259 deceivers could make them. We recognize our 07vn per- sonal property, our place in the community, etc., simply because we can identify ourselves and our relations. Or- ganic and inorganic matter are thus known to belong to us or to others. l^heology. — Recognition beyond the grave will de- pend upon the preservation of identity. If there is no continued personal essence in that beyond, we can never recognize our departed ones, our sainted loved ones. Not only does the recognition of a bod}' lying in a "morgue" or the recognition of a returning ' 'prodigal' ' depend upon the preservation of personal identity ; but the recognition of all heaven's hosts will depend upon this. Immortality and future retribution are thus a natural inference based upon the preservation of personal identity. Our mother will know us in that beyond and we shall know her. Retribution. — Upon earth, and in the day when heaven and earth shall pass away, in that great judgment day, men will not be rewarded with heaven or condemned into eternal torment as somebody else, but as preserved identical souls. Apart from this notion, the administra- tion of justice upon earth and in the future world could be nothing other than a farce. The human mind rebels against such a thought ; and we intuitively affirm that 02ir identity will be preserved through all eternity. Apart from this certainty, justice can be but injustice, since it always punishes the other, the next man. Science and Identity. — The preservation of iden- tity insures the propagation of species and genera. The catastrophies of geological history are not contradictory, but affirmative of this notion. The species and genera of a past age are not metamorphosed or transferred into other forms. The deer never was a hyppopotamus, and the pine- tree was never a lepidodendron. If this is a fact, then the 12 26o INTUITION. origin of human races is a simple origin from a single human pair. This corresponds with revelation, and the Christian philosopher says, ' 'Amen. ' ' With a firm grasp of the idea of identity, no man in his right mind would predicate that a man was a continued, improved monkey. The preservation of identity is an irresistible contradic- tion of Darwinianism. D. CAUSE. A cause is the effective antecedent of a sequence. And every sequence has at least one cause and one occasion. Nature of Cause, — The whole universe is a contin- uous linking of antecedents and sequences. Phenomena follow phenomena ; event follows event in one connected succession, to be traced backward to the ultimate great First Cause — God. What is cause ? This is more easily understood than expressed, though causation as a univer- sal necessity in all phenomena is also, in itself, an almost unfathomable something. We have an idea of causation from the date of our first experience with phenomena. Perhaps it were better to be sure that we have a notion of the word phenomenon. A phenomenon is an appear- ance, or a somet/mig that appears, a. something that is cognized either by perception or reason, a fact in nature or a state of mind. Whenever we stand in the presence of anything that calls up the question, ^'what is this, and why is it here or why is it so and so," we stand in the presence of phenomena. Everything in our experience that demands a why, is a phenomenon. We thus speak of the phenomena of Nature, of society, of government, of history, of mind and of Creation. The word event is often used in about the same sense. Properly speaking, INTUITION. 261 an event is an issue of history, and implies the activity of personal agents other than God as well as the agency of God. Phenomenon, as a scientific term, does not neces- sarily imply the direct agency of man or God. Phenome- na and events are regarded as effects, as sequences. In practical life and in philosophy we look upon every phe- nomenon as a SKQUKNCE or as an effect. This sequence may and does, in its turn, become the antecedent of some- thing else ; but for the moment we ask, ' 'what has caused this phenomenon" ? The words result, sequence, effect, and phenomenon, all imply a preceding something, an antecedent, an BFFKCTivK AnTKCEdknT, a cause. The terms are relative, and the one implies the other. We can not think of cause without thinking of effect ; nor can we think of effect without thinking of cause. Mere Antecedence Is Not Cause, — Our observa- tion, as remarked, presents to us phenomena linked to- gether as antecedents and sequences ; but we do not call every antecedent a cause. Improper induction does some- times make a mere antecedent a cause of some known effect. This is noticed in the illustration of the barometer and the storm. The falling of the mercury is an antecedent of to-morrow's storm ; but no one would rightly affirm that the falling of the mercury was the effective antecedent, the cause of to-morrow's storm. Night precedes day ; but no one afiirms that night is the cause of day. Win- ter precedes summer ; but no one supposes that winter is the cause of summer. The effort to discover particular causes has given rise to many hypotheses. Men have searched and searched for causes in every domain of mat- ter and mind ; but they never concluded that mere ante- cedence was the cause of disease, climate, orbits, growth. The Bffective Antecedent Is the Cause. — That but for which something would not occur, or occur 262 INTUITION; in the manner in which it did occur, is what is meant by an effective antecedent. A cause, in the proper sense, is an agent or an agency. In this sense living and personal beings are proper causes. This is what is meant by ulti- mate cause. There is one great ultimate cause, the Crea- tor of all other causes ; but in a second sense, all men and even animals may be considered ultimate causes. In a less accurate sense, matter may also constitute a cause. Architecture and Invention are effects ; their causes are the architect, the designer, the inventor. Growth and weight are effects not directly to be traced to inind and man ; the germ and gravitation are the causes of growth and weight. The germ and gravitation are agencies, ef- fective antecedents. Proximity of Cause and Occasion. — Cause is always accompanied by an occasion. There may be several occasions, several necessary conditions for the ac- tivity of a cause. So necesssary is an occasion for the ac- tivity of a cause, that some philosophers have thought at least two causes necessary for every effect. In this sense an occasion is a kind of cause, a sort of secondary cause ; but the word occasion is preferred to the word cause as thus used. Let us analyze a concrete example of cause and occasion. The hammer falls upon a pane of glass ; the glass breaks. In this example the effect is broken glass; the cause is the falling hammer; the occasion is the brittle7iess of glass. What is the relation of a cause to its occasion ? Had the gla.ss been like iron, it would not have broken. Brittleness was thus a necessary condition of the glass, in order that the falling hammer might pro- duce the given result ; but brittleness in itself is not as necessary as the falling hammer. Brittleness in the glass did not break it before the hammer struck it. A thing can be brittle and yet last years and years. It is only when the hammer falls that the glass breaks. INTUITION. 263 The falling hammer is the effective agency ; brittleness is the occasion. Causes are spoken of as efficient, material, formal and final ; illustrated by the sculptor, the marble, the plan, the purpose. Pormer Classification Analyzed, — Aristotle thus classifies causes. We still speak of efficient and final causes ; but the efficient cause is the only one properly called a cause. The formation of the word efficient indi- cates a working-out, a cause that works out a certain re- sult. The efficient cause is properly a personal agency, though, as remarked, we use the term efficient cause when we speak of a ^(?r;^, gravitation, change of temperature, precipice, mistake, etc. The illustration of Aristotle makes clear the distinctions indicated in the proposition. The statue was an effect. Its efficient cause was the sculp- tor ; the material cause was the marble ; the formal cause was the sculptor's plan ; and the yi?ial cause was the sculptor' sp2crpose. When we analyze this classification we notice that the efficient cause was the onlj/ cause ; that the formal and final cause were products of this efficient mind and therefore simple effects. We notice further that the marble was the necessary occasion. Of course the statue would not have been made without a plan or a purpose, but as soon as we have a sculptor we imply a plan and a purpose. We thus see that the sculptor is that but for ivhich there would have been no statue. Why ? Because then there would have been no plan and no purpose to work upon the marble. In an other sense the plan and the purpose are both occasions ; for they indicate necessary conditions of a man whom we call the sculptor. I^et us now apply these distinctions to the creation of the uni- 264 INTUITION. verse. Creation is an effect, a phenomenon, a vast link- ing of phenomena. We do not see the effective antece- dent, the efficient cause ; but we see design and plan in creation, and both imply a designer, 2i planner, an efficient cause. We might here ask for an occasion of creation. Our answer would be, "God's purpose implies the occa- sion." What is this occasion? It is God's nature of mind. The three-fold nature of mind, as we have learned, is intellect, feeling, and will. God is thus not only a wise and a powerful God, but a loving God. As such his na- ture demands reciprocal love. Hence, he created the world and its creatures, so that they might love Him and be themselves also loved, happy. ORIGIN OF THE NOTION OF CAUSE, 174 The idea of cause is conceived by Intuition when Perception presents the suggestion of vicinity. Vicinity and Its Suggestion, — The word vicini- ty indicates nearness, association, contiguity. As already noticed, our sense- environments as well as the succession of events or the successive states of conscious mind are all a continued linking of antecedence and subsequence. Something antecedent and something subsequent are thus always in vicinity. This vicinity may be a contiguous association, as in the case of a candle -flame and melting wax ; or it may be somewhat distant, as in the case of the watch and its maker, or Creation and the Creator. In either case the vicinity of antecedence and subsequence can be found. Our first discovery of vicinity is a discovery through perception and induction, or through conscious- ness and immediate inference. From this first discovery of vicinity. Intuition catches the suggestion of 7iecessary INTUITION. 265 antecedence. Thus the idea of cause is born. The pri- mary idea of cause is born so instantaneously on the occa- sion of our first discovery of vicinity, that the idea seems to precede the later conclusions of induction. Indeed, the idea of cause is one of the earliest in the human mind. The child's nourishment is perhaps a first occasion that suggests the idea. The infant mind discovers the vicinity of mother and satisfied hunger, and thus comes to act upon the impjilsc or belief that mother is the cause of nourish- ment. Mental Vicinity. — The child-mind puts forth a vo- lition, and notices an internal or external sequence. The association or vicinity of the volition and the sequence is revealed in consciousness or in conscious perception. Consciousness and perception are thus presenting to the mind a suggestion ; this suggestion is caught by intui- tion, and thus is born the idea of cause. The mind from that moment knows that volitions are causes and that se- quences are effects. This can be illustrated by the exper- ience of the little child when it reaches out its tiny hand for a plaything, or bids mother bring down the coveted moon. The child feels that his volition may effect his purpose. The child touches the red-hot stove and screams with pain. He will not likely touch the red-hot stove again as long as he remembers the suggestive vicinity of the antecedent red-hot stove and the subsequent aching finsfer. 'O' UNIVERSAL CAUSATION, 175' The notion of universal causation is conceived by Intuition as the inevitable law of intelligent interpretation. Universal Causation, — The notion of universal causation is a much wider and much earlier concept than 266 INTUITION. thos2 of generalization and induction. lyong before we have experienced every effect, long before our induction could be based upon universal vicinity, the mind has stated to itself this primary truth, "Every effect has a cause." Thus the idea of cause has early become a truth, a fundamental laiu of belief This notion of cause could not originate from human induction ; for human induc- tion has the stamp of contingency and custom. We cer- tainly have no right to put that which is based upon con- tingent premises into the category of the necessary and universal ; but such a truth is the notion of universal cau- sation. An Inevitable J^aw, — We can not get rid of this notion, though we tr}^ to do so. Whenever the sceptic tries to rid himself of this instinctive belief, he is foiled by contradictory confessions in his daily conduct. He may not admit that Creation had an intelligent Creator, but he must admit that failure or success in his business had some cause, he must admit that the clock on the mantel or the watch in his pocket had a maker, he must admit grad- ually that all he has ever known as phenomena had a cause. The physicist has searched for ages to find an instance where phenomenon is not caused ; but he has given it up. The infidel, by writing and orating confesses his belief in cause. If this is not true, why does he write or speak ? Does he not thus try to present the cause of his unbelief, and does he not thus confess his belief that his words may be the cause of winning others to his un- faith ? The law of causation is thus an inevitable law. It is self- evident to every mind. It is a simple product of intuition ; it is a necessary and universal truth. The construction of all the sciences and philosophies is based upon this fundamental belief. The whole universe, the stars and starlets, the fishes in the brook, animate and inanimate nature utter the same truth. INTUITION. 267 PRACTICAL APPLICATION. 176. Material and historical phenomena, creation and life beyond, are effects of universal causation. ScientiRc Products of Search after Causes, — Search for the causes of orbits, formation, growth, ac- tivity, etc., has led men to construct the physical sciences. Astronomy, Geology, Botany, Chemistry and Natural Philosophy, are the products of this search ; and there are many other sciences thus produced. Historical Phenomena. — History with its battles, its nations, its progress, its origin of institutions and their decay, its laws and its agents, is a wide domain for uni- versal causation. We can not interpret the phenomena of histor}" apart from the idea and tru^/i of causation. This is confessed by the construction of such sciences as the philosoph}^ of history, sociology, political economy, etc. Success or failure in business, fortune or misfortune in societ3% home life and personal life, are phenomena that must be interpreted upon the basis of universal causation. When we are intelligent and reasonable enough to confess this truth, we shall be ready to look up with sublime rev- erence to God our First Great Cause. E. THE AESTHETIC. Classification. — The Aesthetic includes the Beau- tiful, the Sublime, and the Ludicrous. The last in- cludes JVtf and Humor. The distinctions upon which this classification is based will appear as we proceed with the separate investigations. The term Bca^ttifid is usual- ly made to cover the entire field of the Aesthetic ; but such a use of the term is arbitrar}' and is apt to overlook 12* 268 INTUITION. essential characteristics. The effects of the Beautiful, the Sublime and the lyudicrous upon our mind, are confessed- ly distinct ; and, for this reason it is proper to expect dis- tinctions in the causes that produce such effects. The Beautiful is zvinsome, restful ; the Sublime is conqueri?ig, over- awing ; the lyudicrous is catching and surprisiiig. The Beautiful, the Sublime and the lyUdicrous are the fundamental notions of the science of Ai:sthktics. While it is not our wish or mission to enter at length into the discussion of the Aesthetic, it is the mission of Psychol- ogy to investigate the nature of the Aesthetic as objective somethings ; the origin of the ideas of the Aesthetic ; the perception of the Aesthetic, the estimation of the Aes- thetic, or Taste, and Practical Applications. the: be:autiful. The nature of the beautiful is explained in several theories known as subjective, objective and spiritual theories. Nature of the Beautiful, — The beautiful in na- ture and art, is a most interesting subject ; and, at the same time, it is difficult to state what the elements of the beautiful are, or whether there is an only common pro- perty that constitutes the real essence of the beautiful. The effort to discover the various elements of the beauti- ful, its manifestations and perhaps its real and simple es- sence, has taxed the minds of the best thinkers to the utmost. Men have almost come to the conclusion that they can not satisfactorily define the beautiful. Its coy- ness and subtlety, its manifold manifestations in nature and art, its expressive capacities and its occurrence in matter and mind, make it extremely difficult to discover INTUITION. ■ 269 a determinative element, a simple essence in all forms or- ganic and inorganic, material and spiritual. This situa- tion has given origin to the three theories above indi- cated. The SUBJKCTIVK THEORIES all agree in affirming that the beautiful has no objective existence apart from a particular contact with mind. The objective theo- ries all try to find the essence of the beautiful in some objective quality, such as utility. The spirituai, theory recognizes the beautiful as a spiritual essence manifested through material forms. We shall notice these theories in detail, prefacing our discussion with the remark that the subjective and objective theories either fail altogether when applied to concrete illustrations or else involve so many exceptions that all such theories must be put down as unsatisfactory. That the objective theories, when summed up do enumerate elements that aid the peixeption of the beautiful and that heighten the effect upon the ob- server, we can not dispute ; but we are ready to assert that all these theories do injustice to Reason, and unjust- ly or blindly deny the voice of God as it is tuned in nature's varied forms. We can hardly doubt that God speaks to us in visible forms, that he reveals himself in his nature through the gem of the ocean, the wild-rose of the hill -side, the stately palm, the weeping willow, the storm and cataract, the singing birds, the whispers of the breezes and the sighing of the wind. And if this be true, the spiritual theory of the beautiful is more expres- sive, more lofty, more God-like. FOUR SUBJECTIVE THEORIES CRITICISED. ITS. The principal subjective theories are those of: i. Emotion, 2. Association. 3. Reflection. 4. Observation. 270 INTUITION. Subjective Theories. — We must regard these theo- ries as mere hypotheses until we shall have tested them by concrete applications. It is difficult to see how the sub- jective theories ever gained credence among intelligent people. We shall find that all such theories violate com- mon sense and that they are most superficial in their con- clusions. The subjective theories are no longer held by writers on Aesthetics ; but we shall recall them for the sake of logical discipline. The test of such theories will put us upon our guard in testing other hypotheses. The examination of the subjective theories is also valuable, since these hypotheses led to the proper theory. The proper theory may not be a full statement of the nature of the Beautiful ; but it is in the line of a verified truth. This proper theory, as was remarked, is the spiritual the- ory. We shall see that the refutation of the subjective and objective theories unavoidably leads to the adoption of the spiritual theory. The ^motion Theory. — The emotion theory claims that the beautiful is not an objective cause, but a subjec- tive effect. This effect is an emotion, and to this emotion the term Beautiful is applied. The theory allows that there may be some objective quality in nature and in art that eaitses certain things to produce this beautiful emo- tion. ReflltRtion. — Writers thus speak of the e?notio?i of t/ie beautiful as if the}^ could know nothing beyond this emo- tion. The theory evidently swallows the difficulty. If the emotion is what is meant b}^ the beautiful, why should language have formed and kept the word admiration '^ If the emotion is what is meant when we speak of the beau- tiful, what name shall we give to that <2^/;/ ///^ spray, or watch the jeweled bounding of the silver}^ sheet as it leaps that grand old precipice ; but should we turn with a sneer on our lips and say to a native of Niagara community, "Your Falls are nothing to brag of; there's no beauty in them, that I can see", the native would swell with anger and say, "I've lived here from my childhood da3\s, and that Falls is beautiful to me now as then, though it may not raise my feelings to the same pitch as it does that of a tourist who comes to us once in his lifetime". What an awful theory this would be for the admirer of the beautiful in nature and art ! Why .should men pay thousands of dollars for that which loses its beauty when it has lost its novelty ? This is surely not a consoling- theory to the bride when she enters her husband's home. The theory also contradicts itself, because a beautiful har- 276 INTUITION. mony, according to thivS theory, must at the same moment, be both beautiful and not beautiful. For example, the harmonies of the master musicians must at the same mo- ment be beautiful to him to whom such harmonies are novel, and not beautiful to him who. has heard them a score of times. This conclusion is not the conclusion upon which the conduct of musicians is based. The Utility Theory.— The utility theory finds the essence of the beautiful in utility. Whatever is beauti- ful is so because of some direct or indirect utility. Tested. — This theory, like the Novelty theory, is a superficial one. From it we might logically conclude that the most useful thing ought to be the most beautiful thing, and that nothing is beautiful unless it is useful. The bread we eat is far more useful to us than the sunset, but we do not also call it more beautiful. The snout of a pig is more useful than the apple blossoms in our orchards, but we do not call it more beautiful. In the second place, some, things are very beautiful though not useful at all. We can not make any use of the rainbow or the halo round the moon, or the odors of sweet spring flowers ; and yet we call these beautiful. It may be said that all beautiful things are useful. This is true as a matter of aesthetic culture. We do wish to be touched by all beautiful sights and sounds, etc. , so that we may be made more beautiful ourselves ; but this is a secondary consideration. We do not think of this in that moment when we say, ''How beautiful." The little child calls things beautiful long before he can calculate the value of beautiful things. In many cases, when the use- fulnsss of any thing is made an object of thought, we lose sight of its beauty. We buy beautiful ribbons and bric- a-brac not because we think they are useful, but because we think they are beautiful. And to show that we buy them becaUvSe they are beautiful, we often buy the very INTUITION. 277 frailest and most delicate ornament for our mantels. A thing may be pleasing to us because it is useful ; but we certainly do distinguish between the pleasure caused in us by the use of a truck-wagon and the observation of a beautiful face. We may never be able to own a certain beautiful something, but we still call it beautiful. The Order and Proportion Theory. — This is only another form of the utility theory. Order and pro- portion have in view the design of that which has order and proportion. Arrangement according to order ma}^ be neat and pleasing ; but order is not the thing that pleases. It is the things arranged in order that make one arrange- ment more beautiful than another. Proportion is a sym- metry of arrangement. Symmetry may be a mechanical 7nediu7n through which the soul of beautiful things looks ; but the mere symmetry is not the essence of the beautiful. If this were so, then every thing that has order and pro- portion should be more beautiful than that which has not order and proportion. This is not true in actual experi- ence. The artist often avoids strict order and proportion in order to avoid stiffness and inflexibility. It is, how- ever, true that most beautiful things have order and pro- portion, and as such, this order a?id proportion, whether it be that of color, form, motion, sound, face or character, becomes a medium by which we are able to interpret the language of God as written in the gem and in the violet. The Unity and Variety Theory, — This theory comes quite close to the proper theory. It names elements in the presence of ivhich the beautiful touches us. Unity and variety are represented by the waving line of Ho- garth. This theory claims that things are beautiful when they have both unity and variety. By unity is meant a central thought or idea conveyed through-out. By variety is meant a deviation from such a central idea in order to relieve from monotony. 278 INTUITION. Xested, — While unity and variety are hardly ever ab- sent from what we call beautiful, there are many things which we call beautiful that lack either unity or variety. The blue expanse of heaven is called beautiful ; but there is no variety. The gem and the dew-drop lack variety, but we call them beautiful. The sunset lacks all unity, but we call it beautiful. The pyrotechnic displays are not noted for their unity, and yet we call them beautiful. But it is true that in most beautiful things the blending of unity and variety expresses the beautiful. A face that lacks this blending is not beautiful. A picture or a poem or a symphony is clothed in this blending. We therefore notice its intimate relation to the beautiful. THE SPIRITUAL THEORY OF THE BEAU- TIFUL. 180, The Beautiful is a subtle and immaterial essence that de- lights the soul by means of material and expressive sense-me- diums. Nature and Manifestation of the Beautiful. — The spiritual theory recognizes the voice of God in all things beautiful. The gem, the flower, the tree, the bird and man, are a visible voice from the Creator to his crea- ture ; and the creature intuitively knows this voice, though he may not fiilly interpret it without practice in interpretation. The child knows that the dew-drop is a beautiful word ; but it is the child grown to maturity that fully grasps the meaning of that word. The theory fully accounts for all beautiful things and has a strong analogy to the constitution of man. Man is a body and a spirit ; the spirit looks out through the body. We call the eye the window of the soul. So are beautiful things in nature the visible manifestations of a soul, and this is the beauti- INTUITION. 279 ful. Color, form, and motion thus become the visible words of the beautiful. EXPRESSIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL. We might call the spiritual theory, the expression theory, since it explains all visible manifestations as ex- pressions of some beautiful soul — the idea within. The theory may not be a full statement of what the nature of the beautiful is ; we may not be able satisfactorily to de- fine the beautiful ; but the definition of the spiritual theory states the truth as far as it goes. The coyness and ex- quisite subtlety of beauty in its invisible essence, make it almost impossible to define the beautiful quite accurately. I^et us test the theory by conscious experience. The Beautiful Expressed by Inorganic J^ormSy etc, — The spiritual theory looks upon the bril- liant PEARL as the expression of an invisible essence. This invisible essence is an idea put into the pearl by God himself. The qualities of the diamond, its crystal form, its reflective power thus express an idea. The child may not grasp the full meaning, but knows that something beaiitifid has touched him through the medium of this visible, material form, the diamond. The Beautiful as E)xpressed by Organic Porms, etc. — The vegetable world is a vast domain of beautiful ideas expressed in shrub and flower, tree and fern. The plant world is a book written in tree-ivords, rose-words^ lily-zvords, elm-ivords, fern-zvords, etc. Kvery beautiful plant is a visible expres.sion, a sensible manifes- tation, a sense-medium of something beautiful. The mind catches this beautiful something through the medi- um of color, form, motion, harmony, etc. The drooping Elm, the white- robed Lily, the cheerful Rose, the grace- ful Fern, and every form of shrub or tree, are but the 28o INTUITION. voice of God, teaching us his wisdom, love and good- ness. The Beautiful as Expressed by Animal F'ormSy etc, — The animal world is a moving combina- tion of order and proportion, of unity and variety, that expresses God's wisdom, love and goodness. We say that the gazelle, the horse, the butter- fly, the Oriole, the I^ark, are beautiful. Kach of these bears a message from the invisible world, — a message of grace, or intelligence, or innocence, or affection, or song. Child and man recog- nize the touch of the beautiful in the presence of such vis- ible manifesting mediums. The Beautiful in Human Beings, — Far higher and far more complex is the language of the human face and form. Complexion, features, movement, order and proportion, unity and variety, — all these become mediums for the manifestation of an invisible and beautiful soul created in the image of God, The face may be blurred with sin or deformed by some mysterious agency ; but when not thus blurred or deformed, the human face ex- presses a God- like beauty. Our first parents must have been as beautiful as Apollo and Venus — yes, far more beautiful than these ! Their face and form were sense- manifestations of a beautiful soul within, the image of their maker. But human beauty is no longer the highest ideal type. The visible medium has been bedaubed with sin, just as we might bedaub a beautiful painting of the masters, just as we might bedaub the statue of Apollo, just as we might mingle discords in the harmony of an- gels or the harmony of human choruses. We shall now notice how art endeavors to express higher ideals of the Beautiful in History. The Beautiful in Art, — The spiritual theory does not suppose that the statue, or the painting, or the archi- tecture, or the symphony, or the oratory, has a 7ra/ soul- INTUITION. 281 essence in order to be beautiful, but that some soul has expressed, through these mediums of Art, an idea, an ideal. Art professes to create fofms, not ideas. These forms are made to suggest the highest ideals of the beau- tiful ; and as expressive mediums they are beautiful. THE SUBLIME. 181. The Sublime is an approach to the infinite and is expressed through sensible mediums. Nature of the Sublime, — We might refer to sub- jective and objective theories ; but prefer to take up the expression theory. We can not satisfactorily define the sublime, but we can detect the elements, or conditions, in the presence of which we are touched by the Sublime. These elements or conditions are : i. Vastness. 2. Power. 3. Awfulness. 4. Obscurity. 5. Volume of Sound. 6. Moral Courage. In the presence of these elements or sen- sible mediums, we are touched by the Subi^imk. The sublime does not consist of any of these elements or of their combined presence ; but they separately and in union suggest, express, 7na7iifest, an approach to the infinite. We feel in such a presence the contrast of the finite over against the infinite ; we can no longer comprehend or understand the infinite, the sublime ; there is a pre-domi- nance of the super- sensible upon us, and we feel weak, finite, awed, subdued. The vast expanse of ocean ex- presses the infinite wisdom and power of the Creator of the Sublime ; the visible power manifested in an earth- quake suggests that invisible, infinite power upon the spiritual throne ; the roaring cataract, the rumbling mur- mur of a sub-terranean river, the rolling thunder peals, the dark and lonely forest, the courageous fireman and 282 INTUITION. our Saviour upon Mount Calvary or in dark Gethsemane, are expressive of the Sublime. Oratory, poetry, Art and Nature, manifest in sensible mediums an approach to the infinite that makes us tremble with admiring awe and with a conscious sense of our littleness. THE LUDICROUS. 182. Wit or humor is an aesthetic essence expressed by juxtaposi- tion of incongruous ideas. Both wit and humor touch our sense of laughter. Nature of the I/iidicroiis, — The ludicrous takes several forms, wit and humor. The former is not as kind- ly as the latter. Both are, in their essential nature, rather beautiful than sublime. The ludicrous whether in the form of wit or humor, is not found in Nature as such. It is a product of the mind. The pun or the humorous story appeal to our aesthetic nature. Almost all men love the ludicrous. The child and the man are easily touched by wit or humor. In its essence the ludicrous is a subtle something, an invisible touch through the in- congruous juxtaposition of ideas or facts, hicongriiity seems to be the suggestive, the expressive medium of the ludicrous. The Broadway dude reduced to a horizontal position by the innocent banana peel, is an incongruous situation that wakes up aesthetic appreciation in almost every breast. Robert Burdette's humorous talks touch us in our aesthetic nature. 1S3. Intuition can conceive the aesthetic ideas when sense-percep- tion presents concrete instances as the suggestive occasion. Origin of Aesthetic Ideas. — The aesthetic ideas are conceived in early mental activity. We can not tell INTUITION. 283 when these ideas came to us. Our memory does not clearly recall such sub- conscious activity ; and we can not recall any time in our life when we had not the idea of the aesthetic. Sense-Suggestions. — A child is attracted by beautiful toys, by beautiful pictures, by beautiful songs and beauti- ful faces. First perceptions of such concrete instances awak- ened an emotion. The child gazes with wild wonder and admiration upon the beautiful and sublime in Nature and Art ; the little heart swells with delight when for the first time it gazes upon a beautiful wild-rose, or a fluttering butterfly, or a gray-squirrel, or the peacock. In these first sense-perceptions, was awakened something more than a mere emotion. Intuition, too, had caught an idea. This idea may not be recognized by the child, may not be intellectuall}^ used as a standard for comparison, but it was conceived so immediately in the proper occasion that it became a sub-conscious mental product. Development of Taste, — As the child progresses to maturity, this idea is unfolded, developed, definitely adopted as a reliable standard of comparison whenever the beautiful or the sublime is presented in the concrete. The idea which is thus becoming a successively more ac- curate standard, remains the intuitive standard in the cul- tivated artist. The child may not yet discriminate or judge in an infallible way, may not ask just w/iat is ex- pressed by the wild-rose, the wild waves, the delicate cor- ona of the moon, the statue of Michael Angelo or the har- monies of Bach ; but as maturity of mind comes on apace, the emotions in the presence of concrete beauty, sublimi- ty, or wit and humor, become occasions for the activity of judgment. It is thus that Taste is awakened in the mind. 13 284 INTUITIO N . 184. Taste is judgment with reference to the aesthetic. By it we compare the beautiful and the sublime products of Nature and Art with our intuitive standard. Nature of Taste, — Taste is not a new faculty ; but it \^ judgment with reference to the aesthetic. It is the discriminating power applied to a distinct class of objects, etc. Taste is not an emotion ; but emotion may be the occasion for the activity of Taste. Emotion precedes and accompanies taste, and, as such, is distinct from the intel- lectual activity of taste. Kmotion may even interfere with the accurate exercise of taste. The art critic does not express his judgment as to a product of Art until he is sure his taste has not been over-influenced by emotion. Taste is a direct comparison — a comparison of two things with each other — and one of these two things is the intuitive idea which has become our standard ; but the other thing is a flower, a shrub, a statue, a musical com- position, a demonstration in Geometry, a literary produc- tion, a rippling streamlet or a softly gleaming starlet, etc. Good Taste and Poor Taste, — We speak of a man as having taste or no taste, meaning that he is a man of good taste or of poor taste. The child may have poor taste, and strong emotions. The art critic has good taste, and often much less feeling, much less emotion than the child. Good taste is the result of mature age and culture as well as of native difference or other influences. The mature mind naturally unfolds in every department through the influence of environments. The intuitive idea thus be- comes a more definite standard, and taste becomes a more accurate judgment. Just as the child learns to compare weights, and colors, and distances and other things, so he learns to compare beautiful and sublime things with his intuitive standard. INTUITION. 285 A Standard of Taste, — It is sometimes claimed that there is nothing like an absolute standard of taste. This would logically deny the distinctions of beautiful and not beautiful ; for according to such a theory a statue or a flower is only the expression of as much beauty as can be appreciated by the observer. But the observer may be an Orinoco Indian or an idiot. In such a case a harmony of Beethoven, or the pearl of the East, would hardly be estimated as highly as the polished, cultured artist would estimate it. It is true that men vary from this absolute standard by reason of many personal differ- ences ; but these personal differences can not affect the in- trinsic beauty of the observed statue, or the sublime cathe- dral harmonies. It is true that the description of a beau- tiful scene in nature will depend upon the personal differ- ences noticed ; but this description can not alter the thing described. Moreover, there are some things which have always been called beautiful. The master productions of art, the flowers of the field, the sublime harmonies of nature and the perfect face, have always been called beautiful. Ev- ery age in History has called some things beautiful, and we have no reason to think that men will ever call them anything but beautiful. Men may differ in emotional ap- preciationof be autiful things ; btit this does not affect the general standard aimed at and confessed by every orator, sculptor, architect, or musician. Taste and emotion are thus intimately associated in the perception of the Aesthetic, but are yet distinct and al- most independent. We ma}^ sum up the mental progres- sion in the presence of the Aesthetic as follows : 1. Sense perception of the Aesthetic. 2. Emotional appreciation of the Aesthetic. 3. Intuitive conception of the Aesthetic standard. 4. Estimation, comparison, active exercise of Taste. 286 INTUITION 185. Taste can be cultivated by exercise upon the beautiful and sublime as found in nature and art. Cultivation of Taste, — It is important to cultivate our taste, because upon cultivated taste depend comfort, goodness, nobility and purity of life. The aesthetic in- fluences of Nature and Art have a refijiing effect ; but above this, too, they have an elevating moral efl^ect. The discussion of culture is not our special mission here ; but we may indicate the necessity of this culture and suggest methods. These methods may be summed up as follows : 1. Personal contact with recognized master-pieces of art. 2. Personal contact with the sublime and beautifulvci nature. 3. Personal contact with, and exercise in, wit and humor. 4. Personal training in music, poetry, and other fine arts. The young man or woman that would acquire persua- sive power and governmental success should not neglect culture in the Beautiful. On every side we may feel the touches of the Aesthetic. While this culture may not di- rectly furnish us dollars and cents, it will put us into a holy communication with divine influences. F. THE MORAI.. Nature of the Moral, — We have found that space and cause, etc., were realities, and that the mind has an idea of these realities. These ideas were found to be pri- mary ideas of Intuition. Our researches thus aimed to furnish an explanation of the True and the Aesthetic ; but in addition to the True and the Aesthetic, we are con- scious of an idea different from all others in some few re- spects. We refer to the idea of right and wrong. It is, therefore, necessary to discover whether this idea is al- so a primary idea of Intuition and whether the moral is INTUITION. 287 an objective reality like any other reality. By the moral \s meant the peculiar character of actions and conduct, be those actions internal or external. When we affirm that murder has a moral character, we mean that it is either right or wrong ; that man oitght to do right and ought not to do the wrong or neglect the right ; and that right doing has merit, but that wrong doing has no merit. A Complex Notion, — It will thus be noticed that the moral concept is complex, involving three distinct ideas which we may enumerate as follows : i. Right or Wrong. 2. Obligation. 3. Moral Estimation. The moral idea proper is the idea of riglit or wrong. This idea is considered the primary idea. Test of Moral Theories, — Men have tried to ex- plain the nature of right and wrong in many ingenious ways. Philosophy and government have been tainted by their hypotheses. lyiterature and society have been poi- soned by the crafty hypotheses of the materialistic and sceptic schools of morals. No subject enters so deeply in- to every concern of man, in this world and beyond the grave, as the question of right and wrong. Without the objective existence of the: right, society and home be- come fit abodes for the demons of the lower world. The denial of the moral distinctions in conduct would lead na- tions and governments to the absurd and the terrible. The denial of such distinctions would let loose all the de- mons of hell on earth. It is, then, a matter of vital impor- tance to adopt and teach a proper explanation of the mor- al. The effort to understand the real nature of the moral will lead us into a labyrinth of atheistic and materialistic hypotheses. These hypotheses must be accounted for and fully tested. Such tests are to be based upon. i. Con- duct. 2. Consciousness. 3. The laws of human thought. 4. Psychologic precedence. Let us first understand how to apply these tests. 288 INTUITION. Conduct, — By conduct is meant the doings of men in history. We may know what the conduct of all nations and individuals was, by examining history and by exam- ining the vocabulary of every language. Men every- where and always conform their conduct more or less to their idea of right and wrong. Penal institutions are evi- dences of a confession by all nations that the conduct of men is sometimes wrong. We may also test a hypothesis b}^ applying it to our own personal conduct as we recollect it from childhood years. Consciousness, — That hypothesis of the moral which does not stand the test of our own consciousness or that of historical personages as revealed in literature, society, government and religion, must fail to win our reasonable credence. Consciousness must be the reliable standard in psychology ; and it is so when men do not base their the- ories upon pet notions or upon the wish to justify f/iezr own criminal co7iduct. The consciousness of a young stu- dent is particularly valuable, since it has not been blunt- ed and mis-educated by acquired beliefs and prejudices. We must, however, guard against the superficial evidence of consciousness in our younger years. I/RWS of thought. — We found, under the discus- sion of syllogisms, certain laws of thought, known as I.OGICAI, CONTRADICTIONS. lyCt US re-state a few of these laws : i. A thing can not both be and not be. 2. A thing must either be or not be. We may expand these laws thus : i . An action can not at the same moment be both rig-ki and not right. 2. An action must be either right or not right. Whatever hypothesis as to the moral character of human conduct does not stand these tests must be re- jected as impossible and absurd. Psychologic Precedence, — By psychologic prece- dence we mean the activity -order of Intellect, Sensibility, and Will. It is considered impossible for the mind to feel INTUITION. 289 before it has an idea or thought. Philosophy and con- sciousness can not point to an instance where an emotion was not preceded by an idea or a thought. We can not feel love or hate toward that which we never kneiv ; we can not sympathize with that which never prompts an ^Vi// ,- and we are made in his image. "God 3l8 SE^NSIBILITY. SO /oved the world that he gave, etc". In this quota- tion God is represented as giving because he loved. The human mind, too, acts when feeling prompts. An intelligent guidance of our feelings may thus prompt our will to noblest actions. Directly, the will may sometimes be powerless in the grasp of feeling ; but indirectly, through thought- control, the will has also power over feel- ing. Shakespeare's characters are personifications of heart-activities. The student of the heart ought to be a student of Shakespeare. Demosthenes was a powerful orator because his voice was touched by the magnetism of heart-life. Napoleon held sway over his armies because his heart was a driving storm of impulse. ' ' Thirty Cen- turies look down upon you", inspires his troops into a universal heart-throb. The drama, the stage, shows how vcL\xQ)ci feeling has to do with human action. Men are good or bad in proportion to the sway of feeling in their heart ; and this is true not only on the mimic stage, but upon the wide world- arena. What a spring of action in a mother's love ! "Home, Sweet Home", was not the production of intellect so much as it was the utterance of the heart. "My Own, My Native lyand", was the outburst of a patriotic heart, and the song has stirred a million men in- to an irresistible heart-throb. David and Jonathan live again in the heart-home, the social home, the family, the school. Othello's jealousy to-day, as long ago, drives love and trust into a dungeon and shrieks a demon's hiss into the heart of Desdemona. Burdette and Bain to-day touch their thousands with the touch of humor and pathos. What a power actually lies in this main-spring of the heart ! We can not estimate the result of mental heart- throbs until we shall feel the great heart of the/ Master be- yond the grave. SENSIBII^ITY. 319 CLASS I PICA riON OF EMO TIONAL PROD UCPS. ZOO, All feelings may be classified into Simple Emotions, Affections and Desires. Basis of ClassiAcation, — Feelings are classified on the basis of certain characteristics or attributes. Dr. McCosh classifies feelings differently from other writers. For his classification, see his work on the the emotions. Feelings are commonly classified into Simple Emotions, Affections and Desires. The characteristic of a simple emotion is its subjective nature ; the characteristic of an affection is its objective nature ; and the characteristic of a desire is its attractive nature. Feelings have been com- pared to a flowing stream : the simple emotions are like the fountain ; the affections, like the touch of the stream along its banks ; desires, like the current or eddy that draws everything it touches to itself and into itself. The simple emotions denote the moods of our mind ; the affections de- note our heart-warmth ; the desires denote our longings. Affections grow out of emotions ; and desires grow out of affections. The simple emotions are often the exponents of physical temperament ; the affections are forms of hu- man love and hate ; the desires are the longings that like springs of action urge men into action and determine natural conduct. ZOI, Simple emotions are modifications of joy and sorrow. Simple Amotions. — Simple emotions are subjective emotions of joy and sorrow. Cheerfulness and melan- choly are examples of subjective emotions. The simple emotions are like a diffusion of light or darkness, warmth or chill, through one's own being. Their origin may be 320 SKNSIBII.ITY. either instinctive or rational. An instinctive emotion is one not dependent on reflection, not limited to human mind, spontaneous phenomena, often uncontrollable and superior to reflection. Rational emotions are more or less dependent on reflection, may be directed, are less sponta- neous, can be found only in rational beings. Simple emotions, whether instinctive or rational, are simple niov- ings of mood and tense. [H = out of ; moveo = I move.] Affections are modifications of love and hate. Affections, — Affections are emotions, too ; but they are no longer simple, no longer merely subjective. Af- fections, as the formation of the word indicates, are feel- ings directed outward toward some object. This object may be one of love or hate. If the emotion is one of love, the mind sends out with the emotion a wish oi good. If the emotion is one of hate, the mind sends out with the emotion a wish of ill. From this distinction we come to call some affections benevolent and others malevolent. This is, however, not the popular sense of affection. Affections may also be instinctive or rational. Among the affections we find love of kindred, love of friends, love of benefac- tors, love of home and country, hatred, anger, jealousy, revenge, etc. Desires are modifications of wish and aversion. Desires. — Desires are natural outgrowths of love and hate. That which gives us joy is likely to win our love, and that which gives us sorrow is likely to cause hatred. That which we love we wish for ; that which we hate we are apt to avoid. The desires thus originate from a sub- SKNSIBII.ITY. 321 jective condition, then become objective in their benevo- lence or malevolence, and finally acquire the character of craving or aversion. The desires are physical or rational. Among the desires we find those of food, exercise, rest, happiness, power, wealth, knowledge, companionship, etc. If our emotions were all subjective, we might never be felt by others ; if affections did not give birth to craving or aversion, conduct would have no impulse, no aim. Origins and ModiUcations, — The simple emotions are subjective conditions of joy and sorrow. The good things of life, our pleasant experiences, the excellent things within ourselves or round about us, these make us feel glad, joyous, cheerful, gay, pleased, contented. In this way we are cheerful because of excellence, wit and humor, nov- elty and variety, the sublime and the beautiful, the good and the right. The disagreeable things in our life, all the contraries of the above enumeration, make us sad, sor- ry, gloomy, cheerless. Some of the simple emotions are therefore positive ; others, negative. Some simple emo- tions are instinctive and others are rational. The affections have an objective character ; they are characterized by good or by ill will. We like the things that please us ; we dislike the things that displease us. Our kindred, our friends, our benefactors, our country, our fellow-men, our God, — these wake up within our hearts the good wishes called benevolent affections. Our enemies, our injurers, and those who seem in any way to take advantage of us, wake up within the hearts those evil wishes called malevolent affections. The affections are then also of a positive and of a negative character. Happiness, power, knowledge, possession, society, es- teem, etc., wake up within us the longings called desires. The contraries to the above enumerated things wake up so-called aversions. The desires are then also positive and negative, physical and rational. A. SIMPLE EMOTIONS. ' A. INSTINCTIVE SIMPIvE KMOTIONS. /. CHEERFULNESS, 204, Cheerfulness is a diffused joyousness, more continuous in youth, more rational in age, with the mission of buoyancy. Nature of Cheerfulness. — Cheerfulness is not al- ways a definite sun above our mental horizon. We feel the diffused joyousness, the under- current of gladness as a light or warmth that pervades nerve and mind ; but can not always give a definite reason for our joyous mood. Under this joyousness, this disposition to happiness, even the dog wags his tail, the horse erects his ears, the wood- man whistles, the child smiles and crows. Childhood and Youth, — Childhood faces are bright and beaming, childhood gambols are frolicsome and gladsome. The little body is all motion, the little eyes are all brightness, the facial lines are all wreaths of delight. When diseases, hereditary or abnormal environ- ments, do not govern the child-life, we expect it to be cheerful. The sedate, saddened, melancholy child is an exception ; we at once ask for the reason. Rippling laughter, jolly whistling, tuneful songsters, are these lit- tle ones. The child, the youth, the young man and mai- den, find life a golden garden, a precious promise, a sun- lit world. Who would not be a cheerful child again ? Cheerful Old Age, — The faces of our fathers and mothers, the furrowed brow of the silver-haired grand- mother, do not, as a rule, express so much cheerfulness. vS I M P I, E p; M O T I O N vS . 323 When the aged are cheerful, we are apt to ask how it came that such a one could pavSS through the sorrow\s and storms of life and yet escape the usual tracings in figure, and form and features. Reflection, feebleness and a slighter hold upon this present world, draw the soul of the aged into an inner sanctum. We do not mean to say that the aged can not be cheerful ; but that cheerfulness is not a prevailing mood. In childhood, jo3^ousness is more continuons ; in age, it is more rational. The old man has a reason when he is cheerful ; his cheerfulness is more chided, more rational. Wit and humor, loving en- vironments, cheerful associations and the blessed hopes of immortality, still have power to bring a smile to the lips or a gleam to the eye. How gladly we visit the apart- ment of the old arm-chair when in that chair there is an aged cheerfulness ! An innocent and virtuous old age should not be any less cheerful than a buoyant youth. Missions of Cheerfulness. — God has diffused more sunlight into our life than storm and darkness ; but there are never-the-less many sad scenes, many cheerless years, many troublesome experiences. Health, youth, beauty, fortune, and friends, may be taken from us. It is the mission of cheerfulness to make life more buoyant. Cheerfulness encourages the despairing, points out new hopes, warms the cold hearts of the grief-stricken, brings sunlight into our homes and into the social circle, touches the muscles with firmness and skill, brightens the eye and calls forth ripples of innocent laughter. Business, daily toil, teaching, the bed of sickness, the home of the aged and all places of human occupation, are made more at- tractive, more winsome, more endurable when cheerful friends are round about us. It is a fortune when in a home all the members are cheerful, joyous, happy. But it is a misfortune to find the contrary. We can hardly estimate the value of cheerfulness upon literature. En- 324 SIMPI^K K MOTIONS. tertainments, games, diversions, amusements and the drama, are outgrowths of the demand of nature to be cheerful. "There's a good time coming ! Help it on ! Help it on !" //. MELANCHOLY. 205. Melancholy is a gloomy mood of soul, caused by depressing forces. Its mission is either corrective or destructive. The Nature of Melancholy, — Melancholy is the opposite to cheerfulness ; the mind often bounds from one to the other. We often hear persons say that it is better not to laugh so much lest smiles be turned to tears. The heart tends to free itself from melancholy. "I'm saddest when I sing' ' , is the confession of such a tendency. Mel- ancholy is a gloomy mood, a depression of spirits. Joy- ousness has changed into solemn inner twilight. Prevalence, — Melancholy is not uncommon in chil- dren, though it is far more common in the later years of manhood and womanhood, when hopes are crushed, or purposes buried in a nameless grave. lyike a deep shadow it may overwhelm the soul, blot out hope, bring in de- spair, glaze the eye, and set the mind on fire with wildest delirium. Melancholy is not so decided at all times ; its shadows are often dispelled by flashes of sunlight ; wit and humor cause its sudden rebound. The gentle Cowper was as humorous as he was melancholy. His "Task" and his "John Gilpin" are illustrative of the fact that melancholy is not inconsistant with humor. Causes of Melancholy. — Many depressing forces in ourselves and in our relation may make us melancholy. Abnormal conditions of our dodj/ make us despondent be- cause they make us weak. The formation of the word SIMPLE KMOTIONS. 325 melancholy signifies bi,ack bilk. It was thought by the ancients that the liver was the main factor in producing melancholy. There is some truth in this theory. The sallow- faced, bilious man is more often melancholy than other men. Any abnormal conditions of the alimentary system, violations of hygienic laws, etc., are apt to cause despondency, depression of spirits, melancholy. The phys- ical cause of melancholy may thus become the cause of insanity. Over-work, exhaustion, dyspepsia, malaria, debauchery, intemperance and other unfortunate condi- tions or vices, may first cause melancholy and then insani- ty. We can not be too careful of such forces. Heredity is another cause of melancholy. If mother or father is melancholy, or of a despondent temperament, the child is almost sure to be. Poets and authors show traces of this in their writings. Family records, criminal records, hos- pital records, and observation, show how true it is that melancholy is often hereditary. When parentage is a cause of heredity, every precaution should be taken to avoid irritation ; every effort should be made to live in cheerful surroundings ; every effort should be made to keep the conscience pure and the body healthy. Suffer- ing, disappointment, intense grief, bitter affliction, may stun the reason, enfold it in blackness and darkness for a time. lyike the shadow of a calamity, the darkness may hang an unbroken gloom over the heart of the afflicted ; but when the gloom is lifted and life again runs on in its usual current, the soul settles into a pensive, melancholy mood. People who have suffered deeply will smile again ; but there will be a tenderness in their smile that tells of bitterness in the by- gone years. The drooping mother, the tottering father, the youth, the maiden and the child, may thus be touched with sadness of mood. Poets are often melancholy. Their pensive loneliness is the result of their meditative art. The poet is often in the quiet 325 vS IMP I,EJ EMOTIONS. woods, in remotest nooks ; his fancy is fired and his heart is touched. The gentle Cowper is perhaps the best ex- ample we could give ; but Milton, Tennyson, and others, reveal in their poems a touch of sweet melancholy. The Mission of Melancholy, — It is the mission of melancholy to correct or to destroy. If the tendency to- ward melancholy were not a principle of heart-life, we should become too boisterous, too buoyant, too thought- less. Melancholy touches life and literature with state- liness, meditation, reserve and character.- Milton, Cow- per, Tennyson, Burdette, Bain, Irving and hundreds more, gain a golden mellowness through melancholy. But melancholy may be destructive in its effect upon self and others. Constant brooding, constant gloom, constant melancholy, tend to unsettle the mind and often end in thorough insanity. The saddest illustrations can be found. ///. SORROW. 206. Sorrow is a depression of heart, caused by loss and disappoint- ment. It manifests itself in violence and in silence, and treasures up tokens of memory. Lapse of time will wipe away tears of sor- row. The mission of sorrow is to balance life and to lead men back to God. Xhe Nature of Sorrow. — We know what is meant by the word sorrow ; it is difficult to state just what we mean. Sorrow is an uneasiness or pain of heart. The physical system is in sympathy with these emotional con- ditions, and the physical heart throbs in unison with the emotion of sorrow. Sorrow is the opposite of cheerful- ness. In sorrow, smiles wither upon our faces, the cheek blanches and furrows, the hair whitens, the hand trem- bles, the eyelids fall, and words are sobs. Sorrow is an SIMPLE EMOTIONS. 327 instinctive emotion ; it comes previous to reflection, in spite of reflection, and it is not confined to rational beings. The most sensitive, the most loving persons are likely to suffer most deeply from sorrow. There are men and women who carry a life-long burden in their heart ; others rebound from their pain in a day. Causes of Sorrow, — The causes of sorrow are as manifold as are the losses and disappointments of life. Death, sickness, failure, disappointment of any kind, may cause sorrow. If it is intense, like that of mother's love, we call it grief — it may be anguish ; if it is less violent, we call it sadness. Our desires may not reach their aim ; happiness may leave us ; knowledge may be beyond our grasp ; wealth, honor, glory, comfort, may elude our eager search. The result is often sorrow. Manifestations of Sorrow. — Sorrow does not man- ifest itself in one way only ; it may be violent or it may be silent. Whether it be the one or the other depends upon TEMPERAMENT. The deepest sorrow is often silent and the slightest sorrow is often noisy, boisterous, affect- ed. The mourner may retire into a secret apartment to weep there alone. When grief first comes upon the heart, it is oppressive, intense, hopeless. David exclaims in his agony, "O Absalom, My Son ! My Son !" Mordecai lies at the gate in sack-cloth and ashes. Our mother wrings her hands, tears her hair, beats upon her heart, and reels in her agony. Rachel mourns more quietly ; but yet she mourns. A sinning multitude gathers up mementos of the departed ones, and every sorrowing human being loves to recall the virtues of the sainted dear ones. Sorrow Healed. — Our Father in heaven does not want the human heart to pine away with inconsolable sor- sow. We could not fill our mission, help the helpless, cheer the dying, if we could not emerge from our sorrows. No one with a real heart would forget his sorrow wholly ; 328 SIMP IvK BMO T I ONS . but it is well that the cup of grief can be sweetened by loving hands about us. lyAPSK of timk is the great con- soler. We learned, when we studied the laws of associa- tion, that lapse of time was one reason why we forget that which we once knew ; the more recent has a stronger power than the more remote. Associations are broken by death. At first every item associated with the departed one, suggests our loss. Gradually these same items ac- quire a new associative linking, and each item suggests not only our loss but also other items. It is in this way that the cup of worm- wood and gall is gradually filled up with sweetness. "Earth has no sorrow that Heaven can not heal". Heaven may well denote the busy hands of loving friends who gather flowers and draw us away from ourselves into new associations. I^apse of time thus be- comes a most important factor in rescuing men and wom- en from despair and the grave. The Mission of Sorrow. — It is sorrow that makes us remember our dependence upon God. Apart from sor- row, the heart vaunts itself, is proud and boastful, forgets our Heavenly Father. Sorrow, it is true, makes life less buoyant, fills our cup with bitterness, causes the heart to throb with anguish ; but all these things are insignificant when compared with the final value of sorrow. The bondage of Egypt and the captivity of Babylon must make us remember our God. "Into each life some rain must fair ' , to teach the boasting heart that it is nothing apart from God. After all, this world has a great deal of sunshine. The pessimistic view of our world is as ab- surd as it is depressing. The optimist knows that every sorrow brings him nearer God. The great men of the world knew sorrow. The generals, the poets, the kings and queens, the warrior and the civilian, have had their share, but it did them good. A man is always better for having had some sorrow. Father, mother, teacher, pastor SIMPI.K AMOTIONS. 329 and friend, have their voice and their hand touched with a gentle pathos when they have passed through a vale of tears. IV. SYMPATHY. 207. Sympathy is an unselfish fellowship, a native contagion of joy or sorrow, with an angel's mission. The Nature of Sympathy, — The formation of the word indicates o. fellowship offeelmg. It is a warming of the heart to those about us. We laugh with those who laugh and weep with those who weep. The emotion is rather instinctive than rational ; because even the child and the brute can sympathize ; because we sympathize previous to calculation of results ; and because we sym- pathize in spite of reflection. Unsellish and Urgent Sympathy. — Sympathy can not be traced to self-love, because of its self-sacrificing devotion. The mother will suffer anything to save her child, her husband ; the pilot will give up all to save his friends and even his enemies. Men sympathize with the criminal and the brute. Not that we would justify the murder or any crime ; but that we can not keep our hearts from helping the culprit to bear his burden. Gui- teau had men's sympathy ; the vilest criminal has the sympathy of his kin. The strength of sympathy, its urgency, is something well nigh super-human. Who would not have sympathy ? Origin of Sympathy. — This emotion is a native principle. Joy and sorrow are contagious. Children as well as grown people are affected by joy and sorrow in others. Sometimes we are apt to imagine that we sym- pathize only with sorrow. While it is true that sorrow needs our sympatic more than joy, it is also true that we 330 SIMPIvK KMOTIONS. sympathize with joy. Sorrow is more exceptional and thus draws our attention, just as a ragged prodigal would attract the attention of a brilliant circle. Joy is self-sus- taining ; sorrow needs support. For this reason we are more ready to be in sympathy with sorrow. But surely this were a selfish world if we could never be glad and re- joice when others do. Consciousness affirms that we are glad when our fellowman is fortunate : we rejoice with those who rejoice ; we congratulate our friends ; we love to converse with those who are happy. It surely is a sad confession for au}^ man when he must admit that he is 07ily envio2is, only jealous at the success of a classmate, a neighbor. Missions of Sympathy. — It is the mission of sym- pathy to bind up broken hearts, to help our brother bear his burden, to teach all men to shake hands, to prevent undue punishment and to alleviate suffering. Sympathy surely is the most unselfish emotion that wakes up in the great heart of humanity. God himself is the highest pattern of sympath}^ It was sympathy that bound up the wounds of the despised Samaritan ; that sent the af- flicted people of Johnstown hope and help ; that brought us Kosciusko and Lafayette. Sympathy gives the beggar a cup of coffee and a piece of bread ; sympathy cools the brow and takes the feeble hand of the sick, the infirm, the aged ; sympathy kneels by the side of the dying Hessian and gives him Washington's blessing ; .sympathy binds the aged couple closer every day ; and, when the cords of life are snapped in one life, the other begs the angel of death to go with the former through the valley of the shadow of death. Sympathy erects hospitals, orphan homes, soldiers' homes, almshouses ; it sends the afflicted material and spiritual aid. When sympathy is .schooled in Holy Writ and sanctified b}^ self-devotion, it is the noblest attribute of love. It is not fear, but S I MP I.E KMOTIONS . 331 sympathy that fills the hearts of them that are saved through the crucified One. B. RATIONAL SIMPI^E EMOTIONS. Rational I^imitations, — The rational emotions, as has been remarked, depend on reflection, on rational per- ception. All rational emotions presuppose consciousness of self, fair intelligence, sanity and some degree of cul- ture. The idiot is not remarkable for enjoyment of self- excellence, of the Aesthetic, and of the Ethical. The brute knows nothing of self-excellence, wit and humor, knows nothing of the aesthetic, nothing of the ethical. The savage or the illiterate person appreciates but little of what constitutes the so-called rational emotions. The ra- tional emotions are those of self-excellence, of the aesthetic, and the ethical. /. ENJOYMENT OF SELF-EXCELLENCE. 208. Enjoyment of self-excellence arises from a comparison, and in its humbler mission teaches man to look beyond. 209. Enjoyment of self-excellence, in the perverted forms of pride, vanity, conceit and arrogance, is purely contemptible. The Nature of Self-Excellence, — The real or fancied possession of things agreeable and desirable in ourselves gives us pleasure ; the absence of these gives us pain. This emotion is therefore a modification of jo}^ or sorrow. The ego is the topic of contemplation. JteiMS. -Self- excellence includes such things as strength, beauty, wealth, social rank, position, profession, honor, talent, reputation, power, growth, culture, etc. It in- 15 332 SIMPI.K EMOTIONS. eludes anything physieal, mental, or moral, that may be desii'able or agreeable. The possession of such things may be real or fancied. All the modifications of this enjoy- ment seem to arise from a rational comparison either with others or with self. Origin of the Enjoyment of ^Excellence,— The mind makes a comparison ; we may compare a for- mer self with a latter self, or we may compare the excel- lence of self with that of others. The result is a kind of enjoyment. A man may find, on comparing, that he has grown, progressed, gained, acquired ; and the thing pleases him. He may find that in a number of things he is blessed beyond the lot of his fellows. Whether this enjoyment is culpable or not, will depend upon the mood and motive of the one who enjoys. Such a comparison may leap beyond the true, may over-estimate or under- estimate the excellence found in self. A proper estimate of self-excellence gives rise to humiIvITy and ski.f-rk- SPKCT ; an over-estimate gives rise to vanity, conceit, ARROGANCE and PRIDE ; an under-estimate gives rise to SERVII.ITY and fawning. The Proper Mission: Humility and Self- Respect, — Humility and self-respect are elements of no- bility and greatness. These emotions never cause over- elation and affectation. The humble man pursues the even tenor of his way ; and, though he knows he has made progress or that he has acquired that which is desirable and agreeable, he never is anything but a plain, genuine man, a man after God's own will. Humility in its genu- ine form is a noble attribute ; it ever looks beyond. Present attainments afford such a man enjoyment ; but he never compares himself with a past self Looking beyond, he beholds a vast ocean or a stupendous mountain of unac- complished missions. The retrospective view encourages, and the forward look places before him a beau ideal SIMPI.KKMOTIONS. 333 towards which he strains. "Not as though I had already attained," are the words of a noble model. Self-respect is never cringing, never fawning, never slavish, or undig- nified ; but it recognizes the high injunction of nature and revelation that man must love himself. Even the good Book tells us to love our neighbor as we love oiirself. If we are made in the image of the living God, it is our highest duty to have self-respect. Self-respect never dies a criminal or a pauper. Perverted Porms. — Pridk is the typical name for the enjoyment of self -excellence, when that enjoyment arises from over -estimation. The proud man is known by distinctive marks. If he is simply proud and has good sense and high honor, he will not attract attention or give oifense. Withdrawing into the inner sanctum of his own high worth, he will not deign to stoop to any indignity. Though this form of pride is not so offensive, it is never- the-less reprehensible in the sight of God. The caterpillar need not thus plume himself when he becomes a butterfly. Human excellence is never the pure result of human pru- dence or of human desert. God o-lves as well as takes. When pride is connected with simpleness, it assumes the form of VANITY. Vanity lives on display. The vain man must try to shine, his house must be conspicuous, his voice must be heard, his attainments must be an- nounced to the world with a trumpet, his position or so- cial rank must be recognized and respected. In its ex- treme forms, vanity makes what we know as the dude, and his sister. When the enjoyment of self-excellence assumes such disgusting forms, it is indicative of idiocy and deserves the unbounded contempt of men. Conceit is another form of pride. The conceited man always carries diplus sign wherever men can see it. Dis- play may be a feature of conceit, and then conceit par- takes of vanity. The conceited man "knows it all" be- 334 SIMPLE EMOTIONS. forehand, never laughs at a joke unless he cracks it him- self, brags and boasts of his powers, is disappointed when he fails to secure compliments, desires to be courted, petted, fondled, obeyed. The conceited man is never very docile, knows more than his father, has seen more than his grandfather. The conceited man is known by his swaggering gait, his foppish mien, his disgusting boast. As a rule, his voice is loud with criticism and his heart is filled with gall, vinegar, and wormwood. Arrogance is still another form of pride. It is known by its moroseness and its contempt for others. The ar- rogant man fears to tarnish his high-born dignity, salutes with a cold stiffness, spurns inferiority, despises wit and humor, often lacks aesthetic sensitiveness and towers in a majestic inner worthiness above his fellows. SHRViiyiTY 'A.n& fawning are perhaps the most disgust- ing of all forms of self-respect. Servility cringes, and kneels, and salutes in obsequious obedience to the nod and beck of those it imitates or wishes to conciliate. //. ENJOYMENT OF THE LUDICROUS. Enjoyment of the ludicrous arises from the perception of in- congruity under new and unexpected relations. Nature of the I^udicrous, — By the ludicrous, we mean that which is laughable. We enjoy the ludicrous ; but the enjoyment depends upon a ratio7ial perception. The brute, the idiot, the dullard, are not noted for their appreciation of the ludicrous. Enjoyment of the ludi- crous arises from the perception of incongruity under NEW and unexpected reIvATions. By incongruous re- lations we mean unsuitable situations or unsuitable juxta- positio7is. The mind is so constituted that new and un- SIMPLK K MOTIONS. 335 expected relations cause surprise. Surprise caused by in- congruous relations awakens corresponding enjoyment in the emotional nature. The unexpected relations may occur between objects or ideas ; and the grouping may be either accidental or intentional, kindly or unkindly. A dandy stretched at full length across a banana peel, and congratulations to the fallen man, are alike ludicrous. Blunder and satire, sarcastic wit and gentle humor, are all adapted to wake up enjoyment of the ludicrous. The effects of the ludicrous are surprise, laughter, and activity. The wide open eye, the upward lines of the face, and the clownish contortions of the jester or the trickster, are evi- dences that men enjoy the ludicrous. The principal forms of the ludicrous are tricks, jesting, blun- der, pun, burlesque, mock-heroic, satire, and sarcasm. bricks. — School days and companionship are forever impressed upon memory through the vivid enjoyment of fun, jokes and tricks. Tricks, jokes and fun may be witty or humorous. If smartness and sarcasm are prominent, we speak of wit ; but if intelligence and kindliness abound, we speak of humor in fun, tricks and jokes. The school boy and the school girl will rack their brain to invent an amusing game, a jolly joke, an innocent trick. It is needless to enumerate all the capers of holidays and chum-ships. Jesting. — Kings and queens had their hired jesters, communities have their dntt of fun, the world has its cir- cus c/ozan and its comedy. All these forms are expressions of the incongruous relations that touch our heart with joy. Blunder, — Blunder is an iinintentional grouping of incongruous objects or ideas. Blunder is a most amusing 336 SIMPIvK EMOTIONS. form of the ludicrous. The portly gentleman with his high silk hat, steps with grace and dignity across the foot- bridge ; the wind may blow and the hat may go, the wig may follow and the coat-tails too. Who would not laugh a tiny laugh, so long as no harm was done ? Awkwardness of speech, uncalled-for blushing, unpolished gait, etc., may illustrate blunder in objects or situations. Blunder in ideas is common, and it is thoroughly enjoyable. The Irishman who, on being reduced to a horizontal position by the elastic rebound of a branch across a wood-path, congratulated his companion for holding on to the branch so long and thus saving himself from being killed, illus- trates the character of blunder. The remark that bache- lors are ''born so'' is in point. From the nature of knowl- edge we derive the principle : "In the physical sciences, causes and laws should be taught before scientific classifi- cation''. The student who gravely repeats this principle, "In the physical sciences, causes and laws should be taught before scientific sanctification," stares at a giggling class with wide amazement. The more innocent and un- conscious such a blunder, the more amusing. The inno- cence may be assumed; a good imitation serves as well as the genuine. Blunders are more numerous than perfec- tions. Pun, — Pun is a form of wit or humor in which incon- gruous relations are expressed in a word or phrase. Pun- ning is a very common form of the ludicrous and deserves just contempt when it becomes a regular occupation. The mere punster is a bore. No one feels easy in his presence, and he himself is likely to dig his own grave. There may be an occasional use for punning ; but it should be spar- ingly indulged in. Burlesque, — Burlesque is a witty effort to debase the great and imposing by undignified descriptio7t and by the use of epithets that provoke laughter. Comedy often SIMPI.K AMOTIONS. 337 partakes of burlesque. Butler and Swift will afford amusement to those who wish to study burlesque. Mock- Heroic. — Mock-heroic is a witty effort to pro- voke laughter by dignified description of insignificant things. "The Mountain and the Squirrel" is an illus- tration. Satire and Sarcasm, — Satire and sarcasm are witty efforts to provoke laughter at the follies and foibles of men. Juvenal, Horace, Thackeray, Swift and others, made satire an effective weapon against the follies of Rome and England. Satire often is better than direct argument ; in its prudent application, the teacher and pastor may cure their flocks of "rough-corners" and superstitions. Sar- casm is the more biting species of satire, and may cause indignation in the person held up to ridicule. The world's dread laugh is often a better cure for silly fashions and awkwardness than anything else. New and unexpected relations of incongruity do not afford en- joyment when higher considerations enter the perception. Higher Considerations. — A falling window, the discovery that diamonds and carbon were identical, the death of a friend, may be thoroughly unexpected; our surprise may be intense ; but fear, scientific importance, and compassion over-shadow the ludicrous. We may en- joy the discomfiture of a companion as long as he receives no harm ; but when he seems to suffer or to die from the discomfiture, laughter is turned to weeping. Enjoyment of the ludicrous, within proper limits, adds buoy- ancy to life and emphasis to talent or power. 338 S I M P I. E EMOTIONS. A Mission : Buoyancy and Emphasis, — Wit and humor are like sauce to mental digestion. Instruc- tion, seasoned with humor, becomes more palatable. The teacher, preacher and orator that lack wit and humor, are merely talented "dry-sticks." Objectionable man- nerisms, awkwardness of mind and body, may be cured by judicious wit and humor. The world's dread laugh will check men and women in their wild follies and foibles. Home will be more cheerful when humor dwells there ; companionship acquires a congenial tone that delights every body. Society touched by humor is a mental feast. Talent and power are emphasized b}^ wit and hu- mor. It is said that the world's great men were full of enjoyment of the ludicrous. Sydney Smith, a great wit himself, writes beautifully as follows : "I have talked of the danger of wit ; I do not mean by that to enter into common place declamation against faculties, because they are dangerous ; wit is dangerous, eloquence is dangerous, a talent for observation is dangerous, every thing is dan- gerous that has energy and vigor for its charateristics ; nothing is safe but mediocrit}^ But when wit is combined with sense and information ; when it is softened by benevolence, and restrained by strong princi- ple ; when it is in the hands of a man who can use it and despise it, who can be witty and something much better than witty, who loves honor, justice, decency, good na- ture, morality, and religion ten thousand times better than wit ; wit is then a beautiful and delightful part of our nature. ' ' Depravity of Wit, — Apart from the nobility of character and intelligence referred to by Sydney Smith, wit is surely a delusion worse confounding. The punster, the mere wit, will trample upon holy things, mock at prayer, cast slurs upon God's word, turn into sacrilegious buffoonery everything sacred to the human mind. It is SlMPtE e: MOTIONS. 339 not an unfrequent thing to find the atheist witty, and to find the sceptic cause his Christian friend to blush for shame under the indignities heaped upon his loving Master. ///. ENJOYMENT OF NOVELTY AND VARIETY. 214. Enjoyment of novelty and variety is a pleasurable emotion that brings relief from monotony, and draws us beyond ourselves. Enjoyment of Novelty and Variety, — Novelty and variety are terms opposed to monotony and custom. This form of joy is also rational rather than instinctive, because it depends upon rational perception. The emo- tion is always dependent on surprise. Surprise caused by novelty and variety is nearly always pleasing. It is true that the news of some great calamity seems to be painful ; but this is hardly true. It is true that calamity itself is a painful thing to know ; but the news thereof is not for this reason also painful. We are not glad of the death of a friend, but we are glad to hear the news. We would be disappointed to find that the friend had been buried before we learned of it. The prevailing character of surprise de- cides the character of the emotion awakened by novelty and variety. How Aw aliened, — We infer the future from the present. Our inference is a linking of expectations. When this chain is broken, the imexpected novelty pleases the mind. The more strange this break may be, the more in- tense will be the surprise and enjoyment. The mj^sterious, the remarkable, the utterlj^ strange, touch head and heart with wonder and amazenie^it. Mission : Relief and Impulse, — Surprise through novelty and variety, is a kind of alarm that calls our ener- gies into action ; it relieves the ordinary monotonv of 15* 340 SIMPIvK EMOTIONS. daily duty and daily occupation. Enjoyment of novelty and variety leads children and mature adults beyond ear- ly aims. The aim may have satisfied for a time ; but the heart became uneasy, restless, urgent. Curiosity surely is one of the strong principles in progress and attainment. The naturalist, the traveler, the student, the inventor, all living souls, are urged forward by this principle. Perverted Mnjoyinent. — When enjoyment of nov- elty and variety becomes so urgent as to under- value truth, beauty and duty ; when it leads to neglect in school or life ; when it makes woman a flitting butterfly and man a shiftless vagabond, f/ien it becomes ridiculous. The effort to introduce novelty and variety into every lesson, into every exercise, into every duty, into every custom, into every relation of life, is to be heartily condemned ; since it tends to unfit men in the performance of the ordi nary. Ennui is an emotional uneasiness caused by monotony, and it is designed to be an urgent impulse. MnnuL — The term ennui denotes the opposite to sur- prise. It is not a pleasurable emotion ; it is an uneasi- ness of heart ; under it we fret and grow restive. Monot- ony in school, in duty, in scenery, in environments, is likely to cause ennui. A straight road, an oft repeated story, an oft repeated song, a continued household duty, never ending occupation, a lengthy sermon or speech, a continuance of unpleasant weather, a long illness, and a thousand other similar items, are likely to make us uneasy. We want a change now and then. Apart from this emo- tional capacity, men would not continue to acquire, prog- ress would cease, the easy chair would be the ideal place. Ennui helps us to avoid surfeit. Knowing that monoto- SIMPLE AMOTIONS. 341 ny is likely to cause surfeit, we learn to avoid monotony in our relations with other men. Knnui moves the world, drives the drones into the workshop, rescues the body from physical decay and the mind from rust. Ennui is an emotional spur that drives us, and that warns us when we weary by the way-side. Depravity of MnnuL — While there is a noble mis- sion for ennui, it may become our worst enemy. Too much ennui is ridiculous. The man who can not endure his own fireside environments, who wearies of the faces and voices of teacher, pastor, and friend, is making a fool of himself. The man or woman who cannot be happy un- less he is ever moving, will be a roving nomadin a civ- ilized world. The business man, the student, that can not persevere under the pressure of years and patient toil ; that shifts from one occupation to another ; that makes new departures every year, is a curse to himself, a disap- pointment to his friends, and a slur on creation. God did not mean to make us restless wanderers when he made us uneasy under monotony. We must never yield so much to this tendency as to disgust us with duty, truth and goodness. He who would reap the harvest of a patient continuance in well-doing, must look upon cnmii as a dis- turber of his peace, as an evil impulse to be mastered. IV. ENJOYMENT OF THE BEAUTIFUL. Enjoyment of the beautiful is an immediate emotion of calm admiration, dependent upon a cognition of the beautiful. Nature of This Emotion. — No man doubts that he is adapted to enjoy the beautiful. In addition to the intellectual perception of things beautiful, in addition to the intuitive concept of what constitutes the beautiful, 342 SIMPLEEMOTIONS. in addition to the rational estimation of the beautiful, the mind also enjoys the beautiful by emotional capacity. The emotion of admiration felt in the presence of the beauti- ful is CAI.M and soothing. The emotion puts us to rest, makes us feel at peace, lulls us into lightness of heart, wins our sympathy, charms us into love. We are thus led to seek the beautiful, we regret to part with it, are at peace with nature and the world. If now we inquire of consciousness and experience whether this emotion is a spring of action, we shall find a proof in the effort of men to adorn themselves and their abiding places ; in the eifort to create ideals ; in the poem ; in the statue ; in the portrait ; in the oration ; in the fig- ures of rhetoric. The beautiful has its opposite ; we call it the UGiyV. This rouses within our heart the emotion of disgust. Dis- gust is an uneasiness, a restlessness. It proves that we enjoy the beautiful. The beautiful charms us, wins us ; but the ugly disgusts us, drives us away. The beautiful lights up our countenance, thrills the nerves, calms and rests us ; but the ugly brings a frown upon our face and a burden upon the heart. The beautiful music, the flower- et, the poem, grace and elegance, lift the shadows from our inner life ; weary hearts are rested ; troubled breasts are made to feel at home. Origin of the Mmotion. — Enjoyment of the beau- tiful does not depend upon reflection or volition. The emo- tion of admiration is spontaneous, immediate, instantane- ous, whenever we catch the essence of something beauti- ful. Elegance of color and form, delicacy of complexion, symmetrj^of form, grace of motion, and all the visible me- diums through which the beautiful is revealed to us, ap- peal primarily to sense-perception, and suggest the soul of the beautiful to intuition. As soon as we thus cognise Ifhe beautiful J the calm emotio7i of admiration follows, vSIMPIvK AMOTION vS. 343 The child and the man have the same experience. The emo- tion never precedes sense-perception, experience ; but it does precede reflection. Indeed, in reflections of the art critic, habitual association with the beautiful may e?ifeeble the emotion of admiration. "Familiarity breeds contempt", contains an atom of truth when applied to the emotional appreciation of the beautiful. That the emotion of admi- ration is immediate, appears also from the fact that we ex- perience it on our first perception of anything beautiful. If we actually 7xcognize the beautiful as expressed in any forms, the emotion of enjoyment comes to us atonce^ with- out volition. V. ENJOYMENT OF THE SUBLIME. Enjoyment of the sublime is an immediate emotion of intense and awful admiration, dependent upon a cognition of the sublime. Nature of This Smotion. — This emotion is apleas- ureable feeling like that produced by the beautiful ; but differs in many essential respects. While it is immediate and involuntary, it is so intense as to become oppressive, so intense as to subdue, so intense as to captivate. This emotion awakened by the sublime prompts us to compare ourselves with the infinite, and in the comparison we are azued by oppressive power. We feel our insignificance, our helplessness, our feebleness. The vastness of mid- ocean, the majestic power of the mountain storm, the aw- fulness of infinite solitude, the irresistible volume of the roaring Niagara plunging over that immense precipice, agitate us, fill us with awful astonishment, oppress us with an amazing restlessness, captivate us into a fierce sympathy with the manifestations of the infinite. We stand in holy reverence of the Almighty. 344 simpi.:e) K]V|:otions. Distinctions, — The enjoyment of the sublime differs from the enjoyment of the beautiful as these themselves differ in essence. The brooklet rippling over the pebbles, touched by the water-lily, sparkling in the sunlight, makes us feel the bkauTifui. ; the rushing river, winding in voluminous torrents, hurrying over rugged breakers, plunging over stupendous precipices, makes us feel the SUBiviMK. We are by these manifestations of the sublime brought into the grasp of approaching infinity. These differences are not differences of degree, but of kind. We can not measure the difference with a human measure. The outward, visible mediums of manifestation we may estimate ; but the invisible essence lies beyond our vision. When the beautiful and the sublime are associated and in- terwoven, as in Glen Onoko or Niagara, we experience an emotion of intense admiration. The beautiful tempers the sublime ; the sublime elevates and enobles the beauti- ful. A Swiss sun-rise is both beautiful and sublime. The roseate light, the evanescence and delicacy of the display are beautiful ; but the instantaneous flashes from peak to peak, the majestic calmness of Mt. Blanc, hoary with snowy ages and unmoved by these flashes, bring us into the pres- ence of the sublime. Enjoyment of the beautiful brings pure delight and rest ; but en- joyment of the sublime brings an elevating agitation. Missions. — Amid the strife and turmoil of life, we could never be at rest, could never know earthly peace ; but God has made this world beautiful to help us. Har- mony of color and motion, the waving grain, the rippling streams, lovely music, etc., have charms for every one. The enjoyment of the sublime elevates our aims, writes in bold letters upon our hearts, "It is possiblk". The SIMPLKKMOTIONS. 345 vastness and power that touch us in the sublime, touch us with the infinite. We may feel our feebleness, confess our insignificance, but this only sets the heart on fire with the oxygen of the sublime. Activity, energy, and pursuit enter our nerves with an urgent thrill ; we throb and trem- ble at the thought of what is possible. That man who is no longer to be touched by the beautiful and the sublime, surely stands upon dangerous ground ; but that man who, though depraved and demoralized, responds in his heart to the touch of the beautiful and the sublime, may yet be brought to reverence God. 2;ig. The accurate adaptation of our environments to our aesthetic nature, urges the culture of aesthetic enjoyment. Culture of Aesthetic Enjoyment, — Kvery sun- ny hill-side, every dewy meadow, every flower and every warbling bird, the sunrise and the sunset, the sighing zephyrs, the glens and water- falls, the sweet spring blos- soms and the golden autumn colors, are the voice of the beautiful. We might have been endowed with such an emotional nature as would feel disgust in the presence of what we now call beautiful ; but, endowed as we are, the perfection of our environments argues that God intends us to love the beautiful and the sublime. All the voices of the sublime and the beautiful are to appeal to the heart as well as to the head. We may trample upon these emo- tions, suppress them, slight them, neglect them ; but it must be wrong to do so. Children admire the beautiful, and mature manhood creates the beautiful and sublime in art. This capacity denotes a mission. If we neglect it, our nature is violated, we miss a thousand pure delights, we creep like a silly worm, and refuse the most invigorat- ing oxygen that God has breathed into the universe. 34^ SIMPLK EJMOTIONS. IV. ENJOYMENT OF THE RIGHT. 220. Enjoyment of the right is a sustaining emotion of surpassing satisfaction, dependent upon the approval of conscience. Nature of This Amotion, — In addition to our in- tuitive cognitions of Right, Obligation and Estimation ; in addition to the tribunal decisions of conscience, our moral nature is capable of emotions that become powerful springs of action. Perhaps a merely intellectual moral nature would never urge men to volition or to action. Constituted as we are, the decisions of conscience are fol- lowed by definite feeling of satisfaction or dissatisfaction. If a man does what he ought to do, his heart will be filled with a SUSTAINING JOYOUSNBSS, a sustaining courage, the courage of conviction. When conscience approves of merit in ourselves, the approval is followed by an emotion of surpassing satisfaction. The courts of earthly justice may condemn to the block, fanaticism and persecution may invent the rack and the stake, danger may make the post of duty a seething mass of torment, demons in human form may tempt the soul with the sweets of sin, and pub- lic opinion may disown the doers of right ; but none of these things nor all combined can crush the heart when in the right. Universal Pleasure of a Good Conscience, — The sustaining emotion of moral satisfaction is universal. Childhood and age, the ignorant and the wise, the Hea- then and the Christian, the powerful and the weak, the warrior and the statesman, — -every nmn fec/s the pleasure of a good conscience. With the still small voice of con- science in our soul, we lie down to pleasant dreams and go down into the shadows of death, fearing no evil ; for God will keep us. His rod and his staif will comfort SIMPLE EMOTIONS. 347 US. Reputation, wealth, friends, honor, life, all may be taken from us ; but if we /<"^^ to the object of love, are called benevo- lent ; affections that wish something ^7wr. The child thus discovers its power to walk from chair to chair, without the aid of helping hands. This power is a delightful possession, and causes the child's faci to light up with smiles. From the first mo- ment of the experience that power is a source of enjov- 17* 388 DKsrRies. meiit, the child desires power. This desire becomes a mighty impui^sB in the conduct of the world. Indeed, the desire for power makes the child and the man uneasy, restless, active, energetic ; he delights in wrestling, box- ing, racing, mock wars, hunting, conquest of every kind. The delight of the child soon merges into the fiercer de- light of the mature man. The Strength and Effects. — It is so strong that, in comparison with other desires, it stands paramount in its influence upon the activity of the world. The desire for power has been the chief motive in the life-work of great historical characters such as Bismark, Napoleon, Alexander and others. The desire for power manifests itself in the peculiar impulses of bmuIvATion and ambi- tion. Emulation is the desire to excel companions and equals. Am- bition is the desire of power over men. Emulation, — The desire to excel is almost univer- sal. We all desire to excel some one near us. Kmula-' tion is thus made an incentive to study. The * 'trapping' ' system is an improper encouragement of emulation. If we could detect the limit of this system, it might be well enough to encourage class emulation ; but no one can with certainty tell how long emulation is a harmless thing. In itself, emulation is a laudable motive that prompts men to surpass companions and equals. As such, it is not necessarily connected with envy and selfishness ; but too often emulation becomes wedded to envy and selfishness. In this form, emulation is apt to involve man in a hateful conflict with his fellows. Emulation seldom seeks to surpass or to out- do an acknowledged superior. The classmate, the fellow- beggar, the member of the same D K S I R K S . 389 profession, is the one to be excelled. Emulation is a na- tive impulse of the heart ; and, under due restraint, it may prompt men to seek the highest excellence, the loft- iest pinnacle of power, the noblest elevation of science and art. Emulation is, moreover, not inconsistent with due subordination. We never try to rival an acknowl- edged master ; we do not rival the power and wisdom of our Creator. Ambition. — The desire of power culminates in ambi- tion. The life-work of men who are ever seeking for power over men, is necessaril3^ an energetic life-work. Napoleon and Alexander are specimens of ambitious men. Ambition pervades the school, the court, the battle-field, the arena of government. It pervades every sphere of life and often becomes a passion. Passionate ambition stoops to conquer and often sacrifices duty, truth and sacred ties. The man who permits ambition to become his ruling impulse is a slave to the desire of power. Disappointment will be most galling to him ; and passionate ambition often ends in exile on St. Helena. Ambition ma}^ make a man pitiless, cruel, shameless and treacherous enough to sacrifice friend, army, state, and eternal happiness. Rational and Irrational Manifestations, — If rational, the desire for power values virtue. The orator and the teacher desire power to sway a multitude, to mould the pupil into a noble character. The honest ex- ercise of such power is a noble thing, and brings its own reward. Such an orator and such a teacher will always reap intense enjojmient from the exercise of his power. But he who desires power that he may gratify vanity, too often sells his own soul and that of his fellows. The selfish seeker after power becomes an Aaron Burr, a cor- rupt politician, a schemer. The desire for power pervades all humanity. Capital and I^abor seek power. On the 390 DESIRES. one side is the result of monopoly ; on the other, ' 'Strikes". Revolutionary struggles for liberty are an outgrowth of this desire. Men seek wealth, esteem, knowledge, &c., to increase their power for good or for evil. ///. THE DESIRE EOR KNO WLEDGE. 2S58. The desire for knowledge is a universal impulse. Its moral value is determined by rational motives. Its Nature, — In the child this desire is simple curios- ity. Whatever is new to the child attracts its interest. Fables, stories, traveling, etc. ,. these gratify the child and the man. The child's desire for knowledge is an instinct- ive impulse to which but little moral value attaches. It is later on, when rational motive prompts the student to seek for knowledge, that his destine acquires a definite mor- al value. It is then either right or wrong according to the seeker's motives. Descartes, Newton, Edison and other great students, sought knowledge so that by means of it they might become a great power for good. The al- chemist, the burglar and the schemer, seek knowledge to use it for selfish and wicked purposes. The desire for knowledge makes the acquisition of knowledge a constant delight, and thus becomes a motive impulse. Its Mission, — The desire for knowledge is so universal- ly strong that we are surprised at an exception. The prac- tice of playing " truant" is hardly a native product. The child that does not desire knowledge surely seems to lack something. Parentage, physical debility or improper guidance account for most exceptions of this kind. As DE^vSIREvS. 391 a rule, the desire for knowledge is universal. This fact indicates that God intended the desire to be a universal spring of action. Such a conclusion is strengthened by the common experience that the acquisition of knowledge is a never ending delight. One reason for such delight comes from the valuation of the poiver we acquire through knowledge ; the proper reason for this delight is to be found in our mental constitution. The desire for knowl- edge has a world-wide mission. It leads to great scholar- ship ; it underlies the dignity and appreciation of schools, authorship and learning. The desire for knowledge, joined to practical motives, gives to the world its inven- tors, artists, leaders. The desire for knowledge keeps bright God's image in the human mind. Evidently, through the handiworks of God we are to learn of his wisdom, power and goodness ; but, apart from such an implanted impulse as the desire for knowledge, these voices of God in nature would not be heard by the human race. IV. THE DESIRE FOR POSSESSION. 260, The desire for possession is an original impulse that grows with the rational perception of advantage and power. Origin and Growth, — Possession indicates owner- ship of property, money, wealth, resources. The desire for ownership manifests itself early in life. The child is pleased with the ownership of a sled, a canary, a pony. The desire for ownership soon becomes a desire for money J^^s a representative medium of value. Children are de- lighted with their "bank", their "purse" ; they count their pennies and calculate how many delightful things can be procured with such money. With the develop- ment of the child-mind, comes the rational perception of 392 D K S I R K S . advantage and pozaer as found in money ^ property, wealth. An estimation of these advantages leads to a growth of de- sire for possession. The mature man learns that ' ' mone}^ is power' ' ; that it unlocks the gateways to social station ; that it feeds genius ; that it tempts the thrones of nations. The rich man need but beckon with his little finger, and ships will sail for him, trains will speed for him from New York to the Golden Gate, and a fawning world will bow the knee. Indeed, there are btit few of this world's goods that can not be obtained for money. No wonder, then, that we speak of the ' ' mighty dollar' ' as if it were the ' * sesame' ' at whose bidding the treasures of earth and sea poured themselves into the lap of the wealthy owner. The desire for possession takes several definite forms known as covktousnkss and avarick. 2i6l, Covetousness desires money to lavish it on luxury. Avarice graspingly desires money, and odiously hoards it. Covetousness, — In its wider meaning, covetousness includes the desire for all that may gratify sense and rea- son. The Bible unsparingly condemns such desire, since it is a sel/ish and degrading life-impulse. Most men are somewhat covetous. Covetousness often unites with en- vy, and robs even a friend of his own. But in a limited sense, covetousness is the desire for money, with the thought of spending it for some cherished object. Indeed, the covetous man is often a vSpendthrift. The covetous man wants money, because with it he can plunge into pleasure, gluttony and into the dreams of passion. Cov- etousness is despicable and unprincipled ; it does not be- come a man, much less a sincere Christian. Avarice, — The strength of avarice is something remark- able ; but its irratio7ial character is far more remarkable. D K vS I R K S . 393 Avarice pinches the miser's cheek, hardens his eyes and burdens his heart with ceaseless anxiety. Avarice odious- ly grasps money and then hoards it up, counts it over, gloats over it, fondles it, jingles it in its coffer, buries it in the earth. The avaricious man is an enemy to his own peace, and an object of contempt among men. His fami- 1}^, if he ever marries, must live on rags and dry bread, his cattle suffer hunger, and his church is a constant an- noyance to him. The miser is selfishly seclusive, hides from those who need assistance, hears the hungry mother beg for bread and curses the beggar ; but he opens not his hand. The miser may even become a beggar, yea, may starve in his own hovel with his coffers untouched. The first steps which lead to avarice are often simple economy, covetousness, and anxiety to provide for a "rainy day". Indeed, men become misers before they know it, and would indignantly deny such a charge. Of all desires, avarice seems to be the most contemptible, the most irra- tional, the most cringing, the most insane and enslaving. The passionate and terrible strength of avarice is due to as- sociation and to regret for actual or possible loss. Strength of Avarice. — The miser associates his money with what it will purchase if he chooses. He thus learns to value the representative medium as much as the things he might purchase. This is a transfer of feeling, and often explains the first steps to avarice ; but this theo- ry of ASSOCIATION does not explain the passionate force of avarice. If association of money with that which it represents could make a man a miser, then the spendthrift should by and by become a miser. This is not often the case. The proper explanation seems to be that the miser calculates actual and possible losses. These losses he re- 394 D EJ s i R e; s . GRETS more and more. Whenever he makes a purchase, he notices that what he purchases has only a transient value, and that his purchase soon represents a loss. He jrgrets the loss of money that might have secured for him a thousand coveted things ; and this possibility by and by becomes so real to him that he had almost rather starve than pay for perishable food, clothing, etc. This effect is greatly augmented when the miser sets his heart upon ac- quiring a certain round sum. Every purchase he makes breaks in upon this ideal, and disappoints his purpose. In anguish of heart, he refuses to unlock his coffers now ; he would rather beg and slave. The Dying Miser, — What scene so terrible as that of a miser growing old and feeble ! His eye perhaps is dim, but he still gazes upon his hoarded treasures ; his hand trembles upon his cane, but he still counts out the pieces of silver and gold ; his heart grows old and dies to the world, but its last throbs pulsate for money, money, MONEY. Death now comes on. In despair, he beholds his coffers pass into the hands of unloving relatives or other heirs ; his mind in delirium raves for money, and his last look through glazing eyes lingeringly rests upon his hoarded treasure. Thus the miser, old and gray, meets his God. 263, The desire for possession has its mission in the support, re- lief, and elevation of mankind. Missions. — It is this desire that becomes the impulse of labor by hand and brain. And thus we earn our liv- ing, are able to relieve suffering and poverty, and may elevate ourselves and others into comfort and culture. The desire of possession should not lead to tramp and beggar life. The mission of propKRTy is to furnish material and D K S I R E vS . 395 spiritual support to mankind. He who dcvsires money to use it as a steward of God, desires a good thing. There is a great deal of happiness in the world ; but there is al- so intense suffering all around us. He who desires prop- erty and money, that he may help the victims of storm and wave and fire and famine and war and disease, desires that which may make him a benefactor, a friend in need, a generous philanthropist. The higher destiny of mind demands material wealth. Education, culture, civiliza- tion, art, profession, &c., depend upon money. The young man who desires money for such high purposes, who can desire it and yet despise it, who knows the mis- sion of property and does not yield to its idol-magic, is more able to attain practical nobility. He whose desire for acquisition and accumulation of money is weak, may become a tramp or a beggar. Surely he can not under- stand his own interest, and the welfare of those dependent on him. To despise property, is to despise the steward- ship of our Father in heaven. Men and women should encourage the proper desire for possession. V. THE DESIRE FOR SOCIETY. 264, The desire for companionship is an unselfish native impulse. Its manifestations are universal. Nature of the Desire for Society, — What is de- sired when we wish for society ? Is it the environment of a great many, the environment suited to display ? Sometimes this is true. Men and women are often so fond of display and excitement, .so fickle and shiftless that they are unhappy when they can not be in the public gaze, at the party, at the ball. He who desires society may, how- ever, 7tot be prompted by such motives. Previous to such 39^ D K S I R K S . motives, even children desire society, companionship, as- sociation. To be "alone" is often an oppressive burden. SoiviTUDK is not naturally charming, though the noblest purpose may prompt men to solitude and seclusion. Of this we shall speak later on. The desire for companion- ship is not a selfish native impuLse. In its normal devel- opment it is a beautiful impulse. It underlies our best nature ; our social nature reaches out into the best efforts of life. The child, and even animals, desire companion- vShip. A child born on an island, left to itself, even if its physical wants could be supplied, would seek companion- ship. It would talk to the echoing rocks, to the rustling leaves, to the air, to the beast of the field, to the flower and shrub. Solitude often kills. It unstrings the nerves, it inspires fear and anguish, it leads to despair, it breaks the heart. The child that is brought up apart from com- panionship is deprived of much that makes life beautiful. Within a certain limit, the young should live in compan- ionship. Self-respect, kindness, more caution, and many beautiful things in life, make the fellowship of others a necessity to every man. It is on these grounds usually, if not always, better for students to have a chum. Not that we should never wish to be alone. Meditation, self- examination, and reflection, are things that belong to sol- itude. Science and art will flourish into precious growth in solitude. The German Bible had its birth there. Hobbes and other sceptic thinkers imagined that the de- sire for companionship was unqualified selfishness. Now, this does not follow at all. That Hobbes himself sought society from selfish motives, we do not doubt ; but not all men are like Hobbes. The desire for companionship is naturall}^ associated with the wish to beyiefit our associates. Our comrade, our chum, is to be a recipient of favors ; we are generally willing to share what we have with our associates. Indeed, the desire for companionship is an D K S I R K S. 397 outgrowth of a reciprocal desire to communicate thought, to enlist sympathy, to find a kindred spirit, to lean on a loving friend. This is further shown by the fact that the desire for society usually changes into some benevolent af- fection. Our comrade, our chum, our classmate, our neighbor, quite often becomes our friend. Fellowship thus leads to friendship and even love. Men have in this way come to love even a mouse, a spider, a flower, a snake, a toad. Our heart rebels at the thought that such love of companionship could be a selfish thing. Such as- sociation ma}^ be loved for its pleasant outgrowths ; but the desire for companionship usually precedes all such considerations. Indeed, we must infer that the necessi- ties of our mental constitution would lead God to implant such an impulse. Hermit I/ife. — The only exception — and it is only apparently so — to the universal desire for companionship is found in hermit IvIFK. The impulse to live alone can not be natural ; for hermit life does not prove the absence of desire for companionship. Hermit life is the result of superstition, insanity, or fanatic conviction. Even the hermit confesses his desire for society. He may renounce the societ}^ of men, he may trample upon his affection, he may crucify his flesh ; but he still suffers the loss of fel- lowship. The elder lyce misanthropically renounced the companionship of men, but he found a substitute in his dogs ; Robinson Crusoe had his cats and goats ; the witch in "The Last Days of Pompeii", had for compan- ions a fox and a snake ; a French nobleman, who was long imprisoned, loved to watch a spider, in order that he might escape utter solitude ; Baron Trench loved a mouse, and Pellico was driven by solitude to talk to the walls of his prison, to the hills beyond, and to the very winds that roared outside. The passionate strength of this desire is 398 DESIRES. something remarkable. Its manifestations are myriad- fold. 265, The history of freedom and the history of prison life prove that the missions of our social desire are strength, culture, and hap- piness. Missions of the Social Desire. — It is a natural tendency of mankind and of animals to congregate in com- munities, cities, tribes, etc. The bee, the beaver, the ant, the laboring ox, are impelled by a desire for campanion- ship. Work is more easy and more enjoyable when there are comrades with us. Life would be almost unbearable if we were always alone. Prison life, confinement to a dungeon, is such a severe punishment because it removes the prisoner from all communication with his fellows. The prison system of several states has revealed most ter- rible results from total seclusion. Despair, insanity and death have resulted from confinement to dungeons. In- deed, total seclusion is simply inhuman. From the ne- cessity of companionship, we infer its mission; this mission lies especially in three things : strength, culture and hap- piness. He who has a comrade is less liable to despond, less liable to be incautious. A companion is a desired wdtness, a moral safeguard, a something that saves from violation of sacred impulses. Even the wicked desire companionship ; it seems to give them courage, energy, resolve. "In union there is strength'', is surely true as to companionship. Ctdture is a result of companionship. He who is always alone is likely to dwarf in intellect and character. Companionship furnishes the necessary men- tal friction for culture. Diamond is sharpened by dia- mond. Our happiness, too, is seriously affected by com- radeship. Few men and women would chose utter soli- DESIRES. 399 tude. Sorrow, temptation, toil and suffering, are easier to bear when there is a companion in whom we can con- fide. The man who no longer desires companionship has fallen below the brute instincts ; he is either utterly insane or grievously unnatural and superstitious. It should be our constant aim to seek proper companions. In them lies a great deal of joy. When, however, a young man or woman becomes so fond of fellowship, that he can not bear to be alone for the sake of duty, then the desire for companionship becomes a passion. Only God must be our constant companion. Only God can cheer the soli- tude of sadness and sorrow. VI . THE DESIRE FOR ESTEEM, 266. The desire for esteem is an original and universal impulse. It is operative prior to education or calculation. Nature and Origin of the Desire for Esteem, — Esteem is appreciation of our fellow- men ; it includes the approval of friend and foe ; it makes the child and the man watch for words of praise, for looks of respect, for the warm hand-grasp of congratulation. The desire for esteem induces men to seek for 2, good name, a good repu- tation. Public applause and glory add a thrilling delight to successful effort on the stage or in the quiet school-room. The desire for esteem is a desire for the love of all our fellow-men. In this respect, it differs from what is known as love. In its extended sense, this desire is a longing for glory, honor, fame. The heart droops under the with- ering looks of blame, reproach, infamy, and scorn. Very few men are indifferent to the esteem of others. The im- pulse is characterized as an original and universal en- dowment of the heart. This is shown by child-life and 400 D K S I R :E s . brute-life. The early manifestation and the strength of the desire for praise indicates clearly that it is not an acquired impulse. Desire for Esteem Unselfish. — The little child listens with delight to words of praise, and even a brute is susceptible to shame ; nor is this impulse absent from any heart. The savage and the educated philosopher alike feel delighted when men speak well of them. Ap- probation cheers the heart. Success and constant toil are sweeter when approving voices meet our ear. Even the criminal on the gallows, shrinks with a sense of chilling unrest from the gaze of a condemning multitude. The desire for esteem can not be a selfish impulse in its origi- nal manifestations. This is seen in the conduct of those who wish to be well thought of by posterity. The words of a dying parent to his child, "Remember me", indicate the nature of this impulse. Surely, to be remembered brings no gain to the departed one ! lyong before a child is mature enough to calculate the effects of esteem, his heart throbs with pleasure, and his cheek flushes with excitement under the approving voice of mother. And when all thoughts of selfish calculation have faded out of the heart, the departing soul fondly gazes into the faces of those who say ' 'well done' ' , my dying brother. The desire for esteem leads to manifold conduct. The de- parting soul desires the tribute of an immortal name. Manifestations, — The desire for esteem makes moth- er' s reproachful look a potent safeguard for her child ; the school- boy whistles a jolly air when he recalls his teach- er's praise ; the teacher feels repaid for all his patient en- durance if he knows that his pupils and patrons esteem him. Ksteem is often preferred above money. The Bible 41 DE)SIRKS. 401 tells us that "a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches". Position, office, and acknowledged leader- ship, have a charm because such positions are the re- wards of approving fellow- men. Honor and glory add much to our cup of earthly joys. Bismark, on his seven- ty-fifth birthday, wept for joy when he felt the esteem of his country-men. Garfield died happier with the knowl- edge that America and Europe approved of his life-work. Public applause, when it is unfeigned, adds fire to the orator's words, gives courage to all the departments of duty. The desire for esteem is so strong that shame and reproach are almost unendurable. The drunkard dreads the reproachful looks of his wife, his child, his neighbor. Shame, incurred by men who have long enjoyed the con- fidence of their fellows, causes illness of body, drooping hearts, voluntary exile, despair, insanity, suicide. The defaulting cashier, the embezzler, the hypocrite, suffers the loss of esteem as much as the loss of liberty. Infamy and disgrace often make life an unendurable burden. Even the innocent man, when falsely accused, when wrongly suspected, withers under the undeserved gaze of scorn in the face of a false friend. When the whole world cries "shame", the courage of consistent manhood often depends on a single voice of approval. If that voice be th at of a beloved friend, what strength it adds to an ach- ing heart ! No man would despise the garlands of fond remembrance, tenderly laid on his grave. Valueless from a rational stand-point are such garlands ; but we nearly all desire some little token of such remembrance. The tombstones of our cemeteries and the monuments of Gettysburg are visible words of praise and remembrance. The living thus honor and recall the departed. The cus- tom will never die out. Even the exceptions sometimes enumerated prove this rule. Under oppression and pov- erty, a man may do that which will rob him of esteem ; 402 D E vS I R B S . but the very pressure that prompted him measured the weight of his sacrifice. The criminal's creed, "I've got the name — I'll bear the blame", shows the despairing reck- lessness of men who are no longer impelled by the desire for esteem. The desire for famb, the desire to be remem- bered and loved when we are gone, is not a desire born of fa7icy or fostered by illusion. The dying hero does not imagine that by imagination he stands by his grave to look upon the garlands of honor. Such a fancy might possess a child ; but surely not actuate a man. Nor is the desire for fame bom from the thought that the praise of others confirms our own good opinion of ourselves ; for, unless we deserve praise, all such praise would only con- tradict our own thoughts. Praise given to a man who knows he does not deserve it surely is not desirable as a confirmation of self- excellence. Z6S. The desire for esteem has its mission in social and moral purity; but a passion for praise weakens character. Mission. — The mission of the desire for esteem is man- ifold. It may be summed up briefly as a?i impulse to right condiict. Social and political purity are more easily maintained under the desire for esteem. Earthly pleasures mean but little when they rob us of respect or our good name. Character is a more lovable possession when it wins for us a good reputation. On the other hand, it is equally true that a passion for praise weakens character. That man who waits for rewards of praise after every ef- fort, is not only vain, but also weak. In such a one, we must not expect to find a strong manhood. Public opin- ion and popular applause may add to our enjoyment, but are not the measures of consistent manhood. The courage of conviction must not be quenched, though the whole D K S I R K S . 403 world deride us. The leaders in science and morality dare not judge of their success by the amount of praise or blame heaped upon them. A garlanded reputation does not always cover a noble, Christian character. It is, however, also true that disregard for the opinion of good men often leads to the gallows. . VII . HOPE. Hope is a desire for an agreeable and future something when that something is regarded a possible attainment. Nature of Hope. — The characteristic elements of hope are dksire and kxpKCTANcy. Hope is thus a7iy desire phis expectayicy . Every desire does not become a hope or remain a hope. When the agreeable something is not regarded as a possible attainment ; or, in other w^ords, when expectancy is absent, there is no hope. Ex- pectancy does not refer to simple absence, but to the future. Hope always looks forward. Things Hoped Por, — These are as numerous as the objects of desire. We are inclined to hope for the agreeable future ; we often ' ' hope against hope' ' ; we are impelled by hope even when reason has flown. Nothing can permanently drive hope from her throne in our hearts. It is almost impossible to do justice to the topic in hand. Hope has such a powerful influence upon our life, is so subtle in its operation, and burns with such fierce inten- sity in human lives, that only angelic oratory could trace its mission. Indeed, no affection or desire could long be a spring of action, apart from that thing which we call HOPK. 18 404 D K vS I R K S ^70. Hope grows more ardent when reason or fancy instils the be- lief that the object desired is essential to happiness. Growing Ardency of Hope, — Hope is a fire in the soul, that flames up especially when the desired object is believed to be important to our happiness. This belief may be rational or fanciful. Whatever our definition of happiness may be, we hope for those things that really are, or seem to be, essentials of that happiness. On first thought, we may conclude that the mazy tracing of hopes, belongs to th^ poet and novelist ; but on second thought, we must confess that the study of hope is of intense im- portance in every department of life. No man or woman could smile or sing if hope were dead. The smile would change into anguish, and the song would become a bitter lament. Let us, then, notice this central force of our lives and trace its manifold presence wherever man makes an effort. Manifestations. — The captive hopes for nothing so much as for liberation. Freedom is an agreeable and fu- ture something with regard to which he will not despair ; fear may make his hope more intense because reason has instilled the conviction that freedom is an element of hap- piness. Hope thus keeps the captive watchful, waiting. The fond mother hopes that her son may develop into a grand and noble manhood. This hope prompts her to watch her son, to counsel him, to inspire him with high motives. The drunkard hopes to escape his bondage and thus confesses his disapproval of his life. Fear of failure to give up the poisoned cup makes him flee to God in humble prayer. This prayer, this pledge is the ciy of hope. The sick man hopes against hope for returning health. This hope aids him in his suffering, makes his will more firm, and his heart more cheerful. The young D K S I R K S . 405 man hopes for success and honor. Such hope gives color to his cheek, brightens his eye, and nerves his hand. He is willing to brave storm and sea to realize his darling hopes. In fancy he looks upon his future manhood, and sees, after the electric storms that swept over the spring- time of his life, every hill and valley covered with new- born buds and blossoms. Riches, office, home and hap- piness, beckon him as the wild rose beckons lovers of flowers. J^xaggeration. — A peculiar element of hope and fear is exaggeration. That which we hope for is thus magni- fied. In such cases hope is blamed as an inspiring de- ceiver ; but it is exaggeration that deserves the blame. A proper estimation of the real value of riches, office, suc- cess, etc., will save hope from deceiving. It is often em- phatically stated that anticipation is more pleasing than possession. This is neither reasonable nor usual. Even if the pleasures of hope seem to surpass the pleasures of reality, the sorrowing millions are ever clinging to her throne. Anticipation vs. Keal Possession, — The cobbler in his usual poverty, sings and whistles while he drives his tacks. A sudden fortune changes him completely. He hoped for riches ; but now that he has them, he seems to be disappointed. It must be noticed here that his hopes did not deceive, but that what he had hoped for brought with it unhoped for cares and anxieties. These unhoped for things give him fear and uneasiness. His riches give him the pleasure he expected ; otherwise he would not fear to lose them. The elder Lee hoped for rapid promotion. When that promotion did not come, 7vhen his hopes were deferred, he renounced mankind and became a misanthrope. 4o6 D K S I R K S . Impatience. — Impatience is a feeling that may be called unsatisfied hope. Impatience is a good thing or a bad thing according to its motives and intensity. Rea- sonable impatience makes the young man active, energetic, intolerant of negligence and sloth. But violent impatience is unreasonable and reckless. It drove lyee into exile ; it drives many a man to failure in ambition. Governor Beaver would never have become governor, had he not been unusually patient. Mission, — It is the mission of hope to encourage prop- er labor and to cheer a sorrowing world. It is hope that leads the farmer to sow in Spring time. He hopes for the Autumn harvest. The mother of the kidnapped Charley Ross is cheered in her lonely heart by the hope that per- haps the darling boy may some day be recovered. It makes her watch and wait and seek, thus increasing the chances of his recovery, and helping her bear her life-long burden. Despair, — Despondency is a terrible thing. It robs us of nerve and will ; it lessens our chance of success ; it even leads to insanity and unnatural death. A great sor- row may drive hope from her throne and craze the mind. Despair has thus often fi/led the asylums for the insane. The Maniac^ s Returning Hope, — But hope can not be driven long from any heart. Kven the maniac looks from his grated window, — looks with an expectant look, out upon the world beyond him. The once happy maiden has lost her loved one. The wild waves have buried him in an ocean grave ; but she only believes this fate until despair has driven her into insanity. Then hope returns to her heart ; she lights a beacon fire on the moun- tain top ; she waits again for the one who can never come back to her. Oh, sacred Angel of the heart ! Hope, thou art a beautiful thing, cheering even the saddest hearts ! D p: S I R IC s . 407 Hope a Reasonable Impulse. — This life's hopes may not bring us the pleasures we think ; but to give up hope is to give up everything. The pleasures of hope may surpass the pleasures of reality ; but hope is not therefore a useless life-impulse ; after all, it prompts us to do much that will bring us happiness. If a man who hoped to gain a million, should renounce half a million simply because it was not a whole million, how foolish he would be ! Just so is that man foolish who does not per- mit hope to buoy him up in this world. Hope Beyond, — The Christian's hope is after all the highest and best. The infidel's hope dies with his body ; the Christian's hope lives beyond the grave. The sceptic grows cold when he dreams that there may be ' ' No Hope Beyond" ; the Christian sees in firm hope a solution of life's mysteries. We can not deny that life is a compli- cated web ; it is a problem whose solution puzzles the wisest men. The noblest soul may stagger at the mean- ing of personal affliction and sorrow ; but his heart is hap- pier when Hope Beyond dawns in the horizon of his even- ing of life. " Hope Beyond " can not be a dream. If so, it must be the most cruel mockery in human breasts. Hope is so universally strong that it must be a beckoning voice from God's throne. The hope of heaven has made the sorrows of many sufferers endurable for the brief space of our ' ' three score years and ten' ' . Apart from such hope, this world must be a wilderness,of only tears. Head and heart rebel against such an insinuation against the goodness of God. VIII. FEAR. 272, Fear is an aversion toward a disagreeable and future some- thing when that something is regarded a possible attainment. 4o8 D K S I R E S . Nature of F'ear, — Fear is the direct opposite to hope. Hope gives place to fear when the desired object is no longer attainable. The peculiar elements of fear are AVERSION and expectancy. The aversion is directed toward a disagreeable something, and the expectancy is a dread anticipation. We fear those things which belong to the FUTURE, and which may make us unhappy. Our fear grows more intense when we bewEVE the expected something to be a great evil. The loss of health and the loss of life are things of great importance, and we fear these things accordingly. In like manner, do we fear punishment, suffering, disappointment. Our hopes are constantly checked by the adinixture of fear. The real or fancied importance of anything dreaded, measures the in- tensit}^ of fear. KxAGGERxiTioN is as usual as in the case of hope. Fear, under exaggeration, kills body and soul, turns gray the hair of the condemned prisoner, and para- lyzes the warrior's mighty heart. The strength of fear in- dicates its MISSION and its danger. While the mission of fear is to make men and animals cautious, prudent, firm and upright, undue fear may yield to vice and shame. The fearful heart gives up a noble resolve ; the excessive- ly fearful man is a coward. How we despise a coward ! He who would win the approval of consistent manhood must not easily yield to fear. The man who is faint- hearted is often a fool or a knave. The man who fears nothing is often foolhardy. Such a man will mistake BOLDNESS for bravery ; will risk his life when he has no moral right to risk it, will betray an army to save his own vile carcass. The question is sometimes asked whether HOPE OR PEAR has a stronger influence upon a man's life. This depends largely upon the individual. The sanguine temperament, looking on the bright side, is more influ- enced by hope ; the bilious temperament is perhaps more influenced by fear. In the constitution of moral and DESIRES. 409 Christian character, hope should liold a higher place than fear. The fear of eternal punishment is the most terrify- ing life-impulse. CUL TIVA TION OF THE EMO TIONAL NA TURE. 2:73- The feelings are springs of action, and must be cultivated by direction, moderation, and holy motives. Springs of Action. — In the three- fold economy of tJioiight, feeling, 2.\\d. volition, we detect the missions of an emotional nature. The missions of our feelings have been pointed out in preceding discussions. Certain it is that too little attention is paid to the cultivation of the higher and nobler feelings. Educational provisions seem to be wholly intended for the improvement of the head and the hand. If the feelings are springs of action, the}- constitute the impulses to actual character. Intelligent Direction. — We have learned that all feelings have their origin in ideas and thoughts. Ac- cordingly, any particular feeling and its nature must de- pend more or less upon intelligent direction. By this is meant that we can, by directing our thoughts, determine to a great extent what shall be our feelings and their na- ture. For such an intelligent direction we are certainly responsible in ourselves and in our schools. Moral Motives. — When any feeling is encouraged to extremes ; when the heart is urged beyond moderation, man launches into the storm waves of passion. While it is usually proper to encourage all the higher and nobler feelings such as sympathy, self-respect, admiration of aes- thetic and ethical things, the benevolent affections, rea- sonable indignation, and all the bCvSt desires, even these when urged beyond moderation may become degrading forces in character and manhood. It is therefore quite im- 4IO D K vS I K K S . portaiit to exercise the heart in obedience to lofty moral motives. Reason and duty should become our rule in feelings. We should aim to check any feeling that prompts to doubtful morality. In this respect, teachers and parents can not be too cautious. Every young man and every young woman should be urged to detect the strong impulses of his heart ; if these are in harmony with God's holy Book and in harmony with noble judgment, all is well ; but if his affections and longings are not in harmony with ideal character and with God's word, every man should learn in grace to govern his heart for his God. Missions of Emotional Culture, — Since every feeling has its origin in some idea or some thought, all THOUGPiT is, in turn, toned and colored with sentiment. In this way our feelings give zest to our thoughts and keep them from becoming sluggish ; men of lively feelings are usually men of quick and bright thoughts. The feel- ings link our thoughts to the wii.iv ; feelings are the im- pulsive preparation for c/ioice and volition. If, then, our higher feelings have received culture, we may choose and will our conduct more nobly. Conscience is more sensi- tive and more discriminative when lively feeling is urged into her decisions. Our morai. worth is affected by our ethical emotions. RkIvIGion is as much a thing of the heart as of the head and will. If piety and the nobler af- fections and desires are cultivated in prayer and holy liv- ing, our religion must become a beautiful life -impulse. The PRODUCTS of CA^ery life depend greatly upon feeling. Toil is sweeter when we enter it with feeling ; oratory be- comes an irresistible storm when rightly projected from the heart ; literature becomes warm and winsome, en- nobling and'agitating, humorous or pathetic, according to the heart-impulse that projects it ; and the relations of life become something other than skeletori and selfishness, when touched by cultivated feelings. PART THIRD.— THE WILL. ^74- It is difficult and important to understand the nature and the mission of the Will. A Dimcult Study,— The subtle relation of the will to other psychological phenomena, its universal mission in the economy of life and destiny, and the infinite variety of its application, make the study of the human will strik- ingly difficult. The numerous controversies about the freedom of the will, and the subsequent diversity of opinion, are the world's confession that it is no easy matter to set forth a satisfactory explanation of our voluntary nature. The drift of modern controversy, however, shows a grad- ual assimilation of belief in man' s freedo77i. Modern writers on psychology seem to be willing to lay aside all fantastic exposition of the will, and to base the doctrine of the will on a scientific induction of voluntary phe- nomena. In other words, it is the spirit of modern psy- chology to take a common-sense view of the will. The recognized sources of information are thus granted to be consciousness and observation. The student must, how- ever, be ready to lay aside all preconceived notions in this investigation ; he must base his conclusions on an accu- rate induction. An Important Study, — It is important to under- stand the nature and mission of the will. This is true in i8* 412 THKWII.Iv. at least four re.spects, growing out of the mission of our voluntary nature. We will enumerate these respects as follows : psychological, practical, ethical and theological. Psychological, — The will is important in a psycho- logical sense : upon its function depend the intentional activities of all mental powers. It is difficult to see how simple intellect could effect anything apart from will ; for if our mind were a combination only of intellect and sensi- bility, there would be no determinative, no mental execu- tive power. A mind thus constituted would in many re- spects be inferior to brute instinct. Animals, as we learn from natural history, are almost unerring in matters per- taining to animal missions. But man, though endowed with thought 2ind feeling , would be at the mercy of slug- gish reason and irresistible desires. Indeed, what would be the condition of a human being, upon the throne of whose mind there should be no will, may be inferred from debauchery and other yieldings to passion. Of all sad pictures in the gallery of life, that is the saddest from which the human will has been blotted. Practical. — It is important to understand the practi- cal mission of the will. As the arbiter of human conduct and human possibilities, the will assumes a pre-eminence that must be recognized. We can easily imagine a being possessed of only thought and feeling : thought alone would make a life of calm contemplation the only possi- bility. The addition of feeling would add impulse to con- templation ; but all conduct and character would be a chaotic conglomeration. Practically considered, the will ^w^"^ direction to our impulses, centralizes thought and physical energy, adds perseverance to genius, gives pa- tient endurance to authorship, discovery, government, and daily toils. Ethical. — An act is not our own until we make it so by volition. Clearly we can be responsible only for such THKWII.I.. 4^3 acts as possess a voluntary character ; but whatever does possess voluntary character, whether it be a thought, feel- ing or action, enters the category of responsible things. Conscience must, of course, point out moral obligations ; but it is the distinct mission of the will to execute such right or wrong. Our will makes us free agents. Moral Philosophy is an exposition of these facts. Theological. — Man's obedience to God, and man's views on the destiu}^ of an immortal soul, depend on man's views as to freedom of the will. Here Theology must learn at the feet of Psychology, The will is the determinative and executive power of the mind. Two Inunctions, — The will is determinative when the mind chooses one of several possible things ; the will is executive when the mind moves to carry out its choice. Determination is an initial volition, and mental execution is 2. final volition. Illitstration. — ^Julia is asked to sing a solo ; she consents to sing and mentally moves to sing. Her consent is a vo- lition, a determination ; her mental movement to carry out the choice, is a volition, a mental execution. Deter- mination, the initial volition will have one of three des- tinies. THREE DESTINIES OF A CHOICE. 276, The initial volition may be prolonged into a final volition. First Destiny. — The initial volition, ordinarily called choice, is prolonged into a final volition when desire or duty, either o?te or both, prompt a mental execution. In 414 TH K WI I.I.. this case a man "has not changed his mind." The re- sult of a choice thus prolonged into a final volition, is either internal or external, mental or physical. Histoi-y records the resultant products ; they are such things as thinking, talking, murder, studying, battles, etc. Z77' The initial volition may end in simple preference. Second Destiny, — Choice ends in simple preference when dzify calls up reflections of prudence; when other wills are in superior opposition to ours ; when no proper occa- sion presents itself for external execution ; when we step beyond the domain of human mission ; and when death, distance, futurity, or some other item, stands in the way of voluntary action. In this case, there is actual pref- erence, voluntary decision, rational choice ; but there is 710 executive volition. In an ethical sense, such an initial volition has a moral significance. Conscience would tremble if compelled to lay bare all our simple prefer- ences ; and the effects of such unexecuted choices is as far-reaching as the domain of mind and heredity. These simple preferences may make our character a terrible soil for wicked actions in life. The initial volition may give place to another choice. T^hird Destiny. — This proposition states what we mean b}' change of mind. We may change our mind for better or for worse. To such a change of mind we ma}^ be prompted by motives of inclination or hy motives of duty ; we ma)' halt 1)etween two great heart-forces, and, when more thoroughly informed as to the consequences pf an execution of our choice, we may convert a real choice TH^ WILI.. 415 into a better or worse. This second choice may be urged by prudence, conscience, affection, argument and other mo- tives ; between these motives the mind freely makes a second choice rather than execute a previous choice. This second choice often implies a complete change of mind, affecting intellect, feeling and will. The time required for such change of mind, varies with environment, tem- perament, education, and character. ANALYTIC ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE DESTINIES OF A CHOICE. Remarks, — To illustrate the three destinies of an in- itial volition ; to enumerate data for an inductive study of the will ; to distinguish accurately between the conditio7is of voluntary action and the real functions of will, — these matters are both important and difficult. We shall select several concrete examples for analysis. The Candidate for Office, — Inclination or a sense of duty may prompt the man to be a candidate for office. Here is an knd to be accomplished — something to be done. The active influences in the mind of the candidate are' MOTIVES ; these motives are rational reasons that can be resisted ; they are impulses that urge, prompt, induce, and incline. The candidate acts as if he believed in lib- erty of selection ; he deliberates, weighs, balances, hes- itates, makes up his mind. To make up his mind, is to determine, to decide, to put forth a preference, to have a choice, to make what we have called an iniTiaIv voIvI- TiON. The candidate is now willing, in mood at least, to work for his election to an office. If his choice precedes the time for election, he cherishes this choice, fortifies it with arguments of approval, and awaits the active campaign. When the campaign opens and the convention nominates him, he does not change his mind ; he has prolonged his 4i6 THK WII.I.. choice into a finai, voIvITion. In this final volition his choice has become e^nphatic ; as an index of this, he be- comes active in his own interests, makes efforts, and strives to accomplish or execute his choice. All he does and says in his behalf is an external index of an internal or mental execution ; it reveals his final volition. This final volition is a complete mental execution of a choice, even if he fails to be elected. The final volition was also a free act ; he could have changed his mind ; he could have decided otherwise ; he* could have passively deferred his choice to a later age. In the mental experience of this candidate, we may detect an end to be accomplished, rational motives, an initial and a final volition. Choice of a Profession. — When a young man comes to inquire what his mission in this world may be ; when his parents and friends urge him to choose a pro- fession, he begins to deliberate between inclinations and arguments. In this deliberation he notices diversity of fortune in the active pursuits of life ; he recognizes a cer- tain liberty of selection between such fortunes ; he delib- erates, hesitates, determines approximately ; his choice lies between teaching and preaching. Into his delibera- tion enter such motives as temperament, companion- ship, community, financial resources, health, talent, voice and other items. After deliberating upon these motives, he prefers to become a teacher, makes up his mind, deter- mines or decides. Other wills may oppose this choice, this initial volition ; policy or prudence may make him hesitate ; loss of property, loss of health or voice or life, may make it certain that the initial volition, or choice, will never be prolonged into a final volition. A choice there was, but no executive volition : the determinative function of the will was performed, but the choice was not developed into mental execution ; there was an end THK W IIvI. . 417 to accomplish, and motives to balance, and a choice, but no final volition. The Prodigal Son. — The prodigal son, after hesi- tating between desire and duty, chooses to leave his father's home and to live in a strange land f/ie rest ^his life. The index of his choice now appears : he asks for his portion of the paternal inheritance, and takes a care- less leave of those who belong to him. At first he never allows himself to think of a possible return in penitence and meekness ; his proud and passion-loving soul scorns such warnings of prudence. By and by he begins to starve ; his humble occupation becomes a degradation ; he feels that he is an outcast ; and his heart bows in penitent regret. He now again deliberates upon the question of living in a strange land and away from his father ; other motives, other calculations, have entered his life ; he changes his mind ; he is going back to his father ; he will throw himself on his father's neck and weep bitter tears of sincere penitence. Additional knowledge of the world's cold reception, recollection of his father's breaking heart, and other items, urge the prodigal to change his mind. In the bitter experience of the wandering prodigal we have again found an end to be accomplished, free deliber- ation upon motives, and an initial volition ; but the initial volition gives place to another volition. The three destinies of a choice are proud prerogatives of rational and immortal mind. The natural destiny of a choice is its executive volition, and in the possibility of an executive volition lies the basis of moral freedom and re- sponsibilit3^ What a saving provision for humanity it is, that some choices end in simple preference ! But to be able to change o?ie's wzV^^ voluntarily and to choose a dif- ferent life-course, is indeed the essential prerogative of a moral being. Our choices are not irrevocable : we can recall them before some sinful act forever records them 4i8 the: will . upon the pages of character. In the possibility of recall- ing a choice lies the possibility of a better life, a maturer character, a nobler and grander manhood ; in it also lies the possibility of untold moral degradation. We might now analyze, in a similar way, a large num- ber of voluntary historical actions, but prefer to let the student try it. For the sake of suggestion, we enumerate the following topics : suicide, murder, total abstinence, a duel, civil war, the declaration of independence, martyr- dom, and personal reformation. /. DETAILED ANALYSIS OF THE WILL. A. ENDS OF VOLITION. The ends to be accomplished by volition are as numerous as the aims and missions of men. Nature of Mtids, — An end is something aimed at, something to be done, something to engage the energies of a rational being. In order to accomplish such ends, we voluntarily enter into active effort ; such effort is not real- ly our own, unless we impress upon it the mark of our will. The more decisively we impress our will upon our life- en- ergies, the more likely we shall be to accomplish the ends for which we were created. B. MOTIVES. 280, A motive is any reason for a voluntary choice. Definition of Motives, — A motive is rather a rea- son than a cause. A reason is resistible ; but a cause is ir- resistible. A reason may urge, prompt, inspire; but it is THK WILL. 419 never irresistible in its impulse. A cause in the proper sense, is an irresistible impulse, like the force of gravita- tion. A reason is an influence in the domain of mind ; but causes may abound external to the mind. The dis- tinction between a reason and a cause lies at the basis of a proper conception of human freedom. Motives that can not be resisted would make man a slave. That motives are resistible impulses, is proved from consciousness and from the records of human conduct. Consciottsness affirms that the mind regards itself able to resist this or that mo- tive in a deliberation previous to choice. Human conduct conforms with the belief that our choices are made freely between resistible motives. 281. All motives have their origin in animal and rational desires, or in man's original sense of duty. Origin of Motives, — We have learned that the de- sires are springs of action. They are impulses that prompt us to do this or that, in order that we may gratify some longing of the heart. Head and hand will often move in williyig obedience to the inspiration of heart- im- pulses. Both the animal and the rational desires thus constitute motives for voluntary choices. The desirable, whether it be in the line of appetite and passion, or in the line of the greatest apparent good, is the source of many motives : hope and fear sway the mind this way and that ; self-love, curiosity, emulation, ambition, covetousness, avarice, fame, the affections, &c., are mighty motives in the human heart. Especially in our childhood and youth, do the desires prompt our voluntary decisions. Even in maturer years, when reason and conscience have been en- lightened, we are often strangely disobedient to the voice of duty. What the heart desires and hopes for, looks so 420 T H E W 1 1. Iv . precious that it often seems also right to choose it. As we grow older, it is the triumph of mature manhood to do only that which is prompted by a sense of duty. This seems to be the psychological destiny of mind ; but by ir- rational exercise and foolish abuse of our will, the desires too often are the most urgent life principles. Our native sense of obi,igation is, never-the-less, a potent source of rational motives. In our study of the mental formula of moral action we found, that among the intuitive endow- ments of Reason, was the idea of obligation ; and that the idea of duty was followed by 2i feeling of duty. The feel- ing of obligation is a very powerful motive in human con- duct. Though false education and blindness of the natu- ral man rob the Conscience of moral accuracy, her voice is still strong enough to make even the criminal prudent in his voluntary choices. Religious systems and wild superstitions have much to do with the elevation or deg- radation of human motives. What seems duty to the en- thusiast and the fanatic, does not seem duty to their op- posites. Duty, however, under all these modifications is the most rational source of motives. Motives of desire may conflict with motives of duty. This conflict is often intense and serious. Conflict of Motives. — This is a conflict between "like" and "ought." Kvery honest mind knows the in- tensity of such a struggle. To deny one's self the things that would satisfy longing, is not an easy matter. So hard is it to decide between pleasure and right, that life seems like a mystic problem only to be solved by gratifi- cation. Our choice in this conflict is often reluctant. I/ike lyOt, we look back upon what we might enjoy, and with a sceptic's smile we try to face a life of duty. THKWII.Iv. 421 When "like" prevails over "ought", our will becomes gradually weaker, our conduct blamable, and remorse overwhelms the soul. The dregs of disappointment fill our cup at the close of a life of pleasure. When "ought" prevails, the heart may ache for a moment, sorrow may shed a tear or two ; but, after a little reflection, sweet peace and precious restfulness warm the heart into an al- tar of praise. This conflict is not only intense ; but often serious unto death, that of character, reputation, or even the body. 283. Unison of motives is a psychological mission. Its fruit is the original ideal character. Unison of Motives, — When desire and duty join hands, life is a happy dream, a stream of holy bliss, a communion of man with Him who made us to love him and to enjoy him forever. The constitution of the hu- man mind indicates an intended harmony of thought, feeling and volition. Psychologically, there should be no conflict between desire and duty ; but practically, there is. God evidently meant that thought should make us rational, that feeling should make us a living soul, and that volition should make us a self- determining agency. When desire and duty are in unison, we approach again the ideal character modelled after God's own image. Rational exercise of the will, proper intellectual and moral culture, and the religion of Jesus Christ, restore to man a proper balance of desire and duty. In such environ- ments, the will determines only that which is in harmony with God's will ; and the heart of man praises God's wis- dom, love and power. A. CHOICE ; OR, THE INITIAL VOLITION. 284, Choice is an initial volition. It is a voluntary determination that succeeds rational deliberation. Character of Choice. — It has been indicated that the two-fold character of the will is determination and MKNTAiv EXECUTION. Choice might be called the mood- volition. It is important to remember that the choice un- der discussion, is not an intellectual thing, not an emo- tional thing — it is a voluntary act. There are intellect- ual and emotional preferences and inclinations ; but these are often not prolonged into voluntary choice. Voluntary choice is an issiie of deliberation : thoughts and feelings are the materials deliberated upon ; and the deliberation is a matter of the understanding. In this deliberation, the motives of desire are weighed over against motives of prudence or duty. Perhaps one desire is balanced over against another desire, or one thought over against an- other. At some point of time in the deliberation the will determifies, decides, chooses. The mind is made up to do this or that, to act this way or that way, to do a thing or not to do it. This is the initial act of the will ; it is the initial volition. The initial volition, as already illus- trated, may have three destinies. 285. Every choice, or initial volition, is a free and rational out- growth of a free and rational deliberation. T H K W I I. I. . 423 Development of a Choice, — The initial volition, or choice, is not the result of an irresistible cause ; it is the voluntary decision of a rational mind as prompted by reasonable or pleasing motives. The prompting may be persuasive and urgent ; but is always, in a sane mind, a resistible prompting. This distinction lies at the basis of a rational mind : if the impulses that lead to choice are irresistible forces in our mind, there can be no distinctions between feeling and volition ; nor can there be any psy- chological mission for will. The very nature of determin- ation, or decision, implies such motives. The confession of consciousness, presented in such words as determination and decision, amounts to a belief in the freedom of choice ; this belief is indicated by our conduct. Every choice must, therefore, be the rational and free outgrowth of de- liberation. It implies about four steps from its origin to its completion. These are : i. Diversity of Objects. 2. Liberty of Selection. 3. Deliberation. 4. Decision, or Determination. Diversity of Objects, — By diversity of objects is meant that there are at least two things between which we may choose : the qualified voter may determine either to vote or not to vote for a certain candidate ; the general may attack the enemy in this quarter or in that ; the wounded soldier may submit to a surgical operation or refuse. If the refusing soldier is dragged to the operating table and operated on, the operation is not a result of kis choice ; the deed was not the soldier's deed at all. The good Samaritan had a selection between two courses : he was conscious of two possible lines of conduct ; he de- liberated on these two lines and chose. L/iborty of Selection, — By liberty of selection is meant the freedom to take this or that course, to choose one thing in preference to another or others. If there is a preference, liberty of selection is the necessary condi- 424 the: WILL . tion of human freedom. We may have 7to choice, and then there may be mechanical volition — obedience to an- other's mandate ; but if we have a voluntary choice, the choice is simply useless unless there be liberty of selection. The choice may be a reluctant preference ; but it still recognizes the liberty to select one of several courses. Our preference sometimes is a selection of the less positive of two known evils : the Christian who is ordered to burn incense upon a heathen altar to a heathen god, may be narrowed in diversity of objects to death or obedience; but he can not be deprived of liberty of selection between these two. Neither course may result in pleasure, neither may be a willing course; but the determination to do one or the other, is the Christian's choice ; for it he feels responsible. Deliberation, — By deliberation is meant a weighing of motives : if there is to be a rational determination of the will, this deliberation is a psychological possibility and a logical necessity. The deliberation may be accu- rate or inaccurate ; it may be modified by temperament, education, religion, and other environments ; but it can not be dispensed with in voluntary mental activity. Whenever there is voluntary activity of mind or body, it must be preceded by deliberation. All motives, it has been said, have their origin either in the desirable or the right. There may be a great deal of conflict and hesita- tion in this deliberation ; it may be difiicult to decide what is really desirable, and what is really right. Men often confuse prudence with duty ; or try to argue them- selves into the belief that the desirable is also the right. The deliberation may impatiently or weakly falter between the influence of apparent good and the really good ; im- mediate good may be a stronger motive than ultimate good. Whatever it be that enters the deliberation, the very co7itinuance of the deliberation is an evidence that choice need not be in the line of the strongest desires or the THE WII.I.. 425 wisest thoughts. We sometimes hear it said that our choices are in the line of the stro7igest motive. If by the word strongest is meant an irresistible influence, we deny the statement. The denial is based upon consciousness and history : we know that our choices are often the op- posite of our strongest desires and our most prudent re- flections. This topic will be taken up again under voli- tion. Decision, — The development of choice reaches a com- pletion in the voluntary determination which we prefer to call an ijiitial volition. Our selection has now been men- tally made ; our decision has been mentally proclaimed. The initial volition is complete though it may never be carried out : we may to-day determine to go on a botani- cal trip to-morrow ; but to-morrow may pass, and our choice be unfulfilled. The initial volition, as we have seen, may have three destinies. Whichever of the three it be, the initial volition, or choice, is a completed mental product. In this initial volition lies the psychological germ of all voluntary action. In its three destinies lie the possibilities of history and character. Freedom to will according to such choice is all that is needed to make a rational soul responsible for its actions. The last thought will be developed under Freedom of the Will. Z86. The character and certainty of a free choice may be approx- imately inferred from environments. Certainty of Choice, — Only God knows fully our future choices. Men may, however, approximately cal- culate the character and certainty of another's choice. He who can estimate the influence of environments upon a given individual, may fore- know that individual's fu- ture choices. In this possibility lies the power of a wise 426 T H B W I I. L . leadership. The power to thus estimate may be an in- calculable blessiiig or curse. While such fore-knowledge and its consequent efforts are the wise man's forces in his fellows, his fore-knowledge is not equivalent to fore-ordi- nation. A man may know what I will do ; but not touch me with a single influence : the certainty of his knowl- edge does not take away my freedom of choice ; my choice is never- the-less mine. Illustratio7i. — The martyr has the liberty of selection between recantatio7i and persecution ; he deliberates and decides to die for the sake of his conscience. His choice was, perhaps, reluctant, perhaps cheerful ; but under any condition it was his own. He feels this, acts as if he be- lieved it, triumphantly proclaims his decision, emphati- cally determines to do what he does, accuses no one for his choice. Suggestion. — The student should be ready to analyze such concrete illustrations of choice as Judas Iscariot, Garfield, Law, Pulpit, Teaching, &c. Whatever physi- cal or mental action is known to have been intentional, is a proper subject for the student's analysis. B. THE FINAL, OR EXECUTIYE VOLITION. The final volition is the mental execution of a choice. It is the ultimate sequence of mental activity. Character of the Final Volition, — It will be remembered that choice is the initial function of the will : to distinguish a voluntary choice from an intellectual or an emotional preference, we called choice an initial voli- tion. It will, also be remembered that an initial volition may have one of three destinies : it may give place to an other choice; it may end in simple preference; it may be prolonged into mental execution. The mental execution of a choice is a final act of the will; for this reason we call it the FiNAi, VOLITION. Its characteristics may be briefly summed up as follows: it is an executive act; it is complete even if its intended result is not possible; it is 2. prolonga- tion through time; it is a free act; it is a psychological sequence; it is absolutely irrevocable. I^et us expand these items. F)xecutive Character, — Our choice is a mental deci- sion to do something when the proper occasion shall present itself. If, in the meantime, we do not ' 'change our mind, ' ' we put forth a final volition in the line of our choice; this volition is an effort to carry out our decision, our deter- mination, our choice. A choice may not be known by outward signs, unless it be through physiognomy or movement; but a volition always reveals itself in action of the body or of the mind; the action is the visible proof that a final volition has been put forth. It is an execu- tive effort of some emphasis. 19 428 THK WII.I.. Its Completeness, — The executive volition is com- plete even when the intended result does not follow. In other words, the executive volition is a mental phenome- non that may or may not be prolonged into a historical product; the executive volition to carry a rock, is com- plete the moment we attempt to carry the rock. Attempt, endeavor, trial, undertaking — eifort of any kind, marks the completion, or the mental maturity of an executive voli- tion. The distinction here drawn is an important one in the argumentation for human freedom. With this dis- tinction, we shall find it easy to understand that respons- ible action must be intentional action, and that the inten- tion is the chief element of responsible agency. From this distinction, we shall easily draw the inference of merit or demerit in mere contemplation. We may historically never be able to carry out some of our volitions, and yet the responsible thing, the mental phenomenon, is com- plete. It is a. Prolongation, — The executive volition is a development of the initial volition through time: between the choice and its mental execution there may be infinite- ly little time or infinitely long time. The proper occasion may come almost at once or never; but when the occasion comes, the choice is converted into mental execution — the act is complete. A F'ree Act, — The executive volition is a free act. If this is not true, then choice is a useless and deceptive preparation; then the deliberation preceding the choice is a farce. If a man could determine, but not make any mental effort to confirm his determination, his mind would have no rational sequence. The very notion of voluntary activity is free volition. The will is nothing but a fiction if not free. A Psychological Sequence, — The executive vo- lition is a psychological sequence. Thought leads to feel- THE WII.I.. 429 ing; the feelings are the springs to action; direction must be given to these impulses toward action. If no direction were exercised over our impulses, we would be the creat- ure of the moment's motive; our conduct and character would be aimless, uncertain, unsteady, fickle, movable, unstable. It is thus a logical conclusion, that the exist- ence of intellect and feeling imply, presage, and demand a free will. The will is the psychologically necessary ar- biter of rational activity; it is seated over the throne of Reason. Its first function, that of choice, selects its way with the eye of reason, through the mazes of diverse mo- tives; but volition is the faithful, the inseparable mental executioner of such a rational selection. The executive volition is, therefore, a necessary sequence in mental ac- tivity; it is the ultimate aim of a rational mind; it, and only it, is the psychological destinj^ the moral goal, the logical concomitant. Irrevocable, — It has been shown that a choice is revocable: we may change our minds; but we can never recall an executive volition. Once put forth, it is forever beyond our power. Choice may enter into the inner for- mation of character and thus not be known to men, forgot- ten to ourselves, or faded out into nothing; but a final volition records itself as attempted ox as triumphant history. THE WILL AS A FIRST CAUSE, 2188, Consciousness testifies that the will may be triumphant over desire, and thus be the first cause of all character. Will vs. Desire. — The desirable, as represented in the immediate preference of prudence or pleasure, is a mighty motive to action; but will, in its functions of ^^/^r- mination and execution, is triumphant over the desirable. 430 T H B W 1 1. 1. . Consciousness testifies that our volitions may even run counter to desire. Abraham surely did not desire, nor finally wish to slay his precious son Isaac. Surely every impulse of calculation and affectionate desire rebelled against what he intended to do. The act of raising the knife to slay his son confirms his triumphant volition. The Roman Brutus thus willed the execution of his be- loved sons, and the noble Virginius thus slew his lovely daughter to save her from infamy and shame. The thirsty man, likewise, resists the drink of suspected water, and the sick man resolutely swallows the horrible drugs. Will a First Cause, — Will is not the first cause of all our acts. The mind and the body may act spontaneous- ly or automatically. Such acts are not primarily volun- tary acts ; but all our intentional acts, whether they be those of body or mind, are voluntary acts. We have seen that wiiyi. may triumph over the strongest desires, and that, therefore, it is the arbiter of character. It is difficult to conceive of the will as a first cause ; but far more difficult to conceive of anything else causing voli- tions. Such a conception would be an inversion of psy- chological destiny. We may not be able to explain the thing in so many words ; we may not be able to grasp the thought that the will is a triumphant element in char- acter, a starting point, a pivot, and a finale of character ; but we are in a similar position with reference to matters of common consent. That we can not explain the pre- dominance of volition in the human mind, is no reason for rejecting the evidence of consciousness. The acutest philosophers admit that the will is a first cause ; but, in the same breath, confess their inability to go beyond the evidence of consciousness. Hamilton says, ' ' Will is a free cause, a cause which is not an effect, a power of ab- solute origination." THE WILI.. 431 //. FREEDOM OF THE WILL. Remarks, — The character and limits of human free- dom, the consequent sense of moral obligation, and the systems of government founded upon belief in human freedom, are topics that have always led to controversy and diverse opinions ; but the importance of a proper con- clusion is intense in its effect upon practical conduct and human destiny. Modern psychology admits the difficul- ty of the discussion ; but recognizes it a duty to reach a truthful conclusion ; nor will the problem seem so diffi- cult after reaching a clear notion of the functions of the will. It is a matter of first importance to understand the nature of human freedom. What is it that is predicated ? What is it that is denied ? Is it freedom of thought and feeling, or is it freedom of will f Is it freedom oi function or freedom oi product f Is it freedom of choice, or of voli- tion, or of both ? These are the questions to be settled before we can attempt any argumentation on human freedom. Human freedom is a freedom of function rather than of prod- uct ; it is a freedom of choice and its mental execution. Nature of F'reedom. —The products of volition are historical effects in mind or body. The activity of any mental faculty may be the product of an act of the will ; we use our memory and judgment, all faculties indeed, as we will. Physical acts, such as the actions of our bodily organs, are also historical products of an act of the will. All these products are limited ; in our human sphere, we do possess the freedom of hand and foot, of eye and ear ; but when we use these organs irrationally and outside of our human mission, the products do not 432 THE Wllvly. correspond to the volitions put forth. While we are able to do many things with our physical organs, we can not do things for which we were not adapted in mind or body ; nor does such limitation exclude adequate human free- dom. We are held responsible, by men and by God, not so much for what we actually accomplished as for what we determined and then mentally executed. Intention is the recognized basis of responsibility. I may not be able to carry a mountain or to calm the storm ; but this inabil- ity does not damage my voluntary freedom. I can deter- mine to do this, and put forth the /inal volition to do this, if there is hope in me; but I would not succeed in actually doing. The zvould-be murderer is as guilty in the sight of God and man as the actual murderer. This notion of guilt grows out of the proper notion of human freedom. The good Book and earthly government confirm the cor- rectness of the doctrine that the freedom of the will is a FRKKDOM OF FUNCTION, the power to choose and the necessary power to carry out this choice in our mind. It has already been shown that a rational free will must be free in choice. Motives may influence mightily; but the possibility of this choice or another is necessary in the conception of rational freedom. Moreover, freedom of will is the power of a mental execution of the given choice. No one doubts this. We may not at once put forth an executive volition in the line of a choice, but we always feel that when the proper occasion presents itself, we can do so. Freedom of and Freedom from. Choice, — The distinction is sometimes put as freedom of, and free- dom from choice. We have freedom of choice when we can either choose or not choose; we have freedom from choice when we can refuse to choose. The former is ex- ercised when some one thing is to be done; the latter, when one of several things is to be done. We exercise T H K W I I. L . 433 the freedom of choice when we are stubborn or headstrong. Stubbornness is our confession in personal freedom of choice and volition. Freedom of and freedom yV^?;;? choice are the assurances of freedom of mental execution; for, if there is no freedom of mental execution, then freedom of choice is a psychological farce. AFFIRMATIVE ARGUMENTATION. zgo. There are four affirmative arguments for human freedom : I. The Common Sense Argument. 2. The Ethical Argument. 3. The Psychological Argument. 4. The Argument of Contra- diction. Explanation, — The common sense argument is the argument of conviction and belief; the ethical argument is that based upon our moral powers; the psychological argument is based upon consciousness and memory; the argument from contradiction is the argument that proves logical absurdity. Common belief and general conviction prompt men to act as if free; and, if this belief is a deception, the exercise of our will is worse than useless. Common Sense Argument, — Common belief is not acquired by education: it is an original judgment, an intuitive estimation. Conviction is a belief based upon a process of thought: reflection and reasoning are the an- tecedents of conviction. The ckitd may cherish belief; but mattirer minds convert belief into emphatic convic- tion. Kvery nation of the world seems to express the belief and conviction that man is a free agent, that man is the voluntary arbiter of his own actions. Men every- 434 I'H K wiLi. . where act as if free. They deliberate before they make a choice; they may be stubborn; they use their bodily or- gans and their mental faculties according to a choice and its natural execution. The language and literature of every tribe and nation has its vocabulary of words that confess belief in personal freedom. If this general belief is a deception, an imposition of our own fancy or an im- position of environments, surely the exercise of will is simply ridiculous. What can I accomplish by making a choice and its volition, if environments control my con- duct, determine it ? Conscience attaches obligation and estimation to all sane con- duct ; if conscience is a lie, remorse and penalty are simply absurd. The Hthieal Argument, — ^^That which has absolute conformity with the unchangeable character and conse- quently unchangeable will of God is absolutely right. Conscience not only is our adequate guide to the right ; but it confirms its authority in its intuitive ideas and feel- ings of obligation, and of estimation. Every man who is sufficiently sane to distinguish between right and wrong, harbors in his bosom the idea and the feeling of duty. The ' ' ought ' ' of conscience is a voice that must be heard. In addition to our sense of duty, we approve or disap- prove merit or demerit in self or others. Such an estima- tion must be founded on the belief that man is the arbiter of his own conduct. It is impossible to account for the universal voice of conscience if we deny human freedom. Surely no merit can attach to what I could not help do- ing ! Surely no blame can attach to what I am forced to do ! Xhe only natural inference is that our sense of duty and of estimation is based upon the existence of self-de- termined innocence or self-determined guilt. But the THE W I Iv L . 435 moment we ethically admit the existence of guilt or inno- cence in our own life or in that of others, we really con- fess our belief in personal freedom. If, however, we are not willing to admit this conclusion, we must sufficiently account for the origin of remorse and for the origin of hu- ma7i govern7nent. Remorse, — Remorse is that sensitive uneasiness which torments a confessedly guilty conscience. If guilty by confession, surely the confession is a confession of per- sonal freedom. The opposite feeling of moral satisfaction, also, must be based on recognized merit. If merit is not its origin, we can not account for this feeling of moral sat- isfaction. Origin of Government, — Administration of justice in all governments, whether that of revenge, or of private retribution, or of family impartiality, or of social fairness, or of prison, gallows and guillotine, or of future punish- ment, can have no meaning unless it does mean that every msin has personal freedom. The courts of justice every- where recognize guilt and its deserved penalty in sane conduct. Government is based upon the idea of personal freedom in every man that has a sufficiently clear notion oi duty and of estimatioyi. It will hardly be asserted that government is a farce. Only those who have an interest in making wrong seem right would dare to claim that re- morse and judicial penalties were the imposition of habit an^ fancy. Even the infidel writhes under the torment- ing voice of conscience: he may not verbally confess as much as this; but death or peril often makes the unbe- liever pray to Q^oi^i for pardon. Pardon for what ? Surely he need not ask for pardon if he had no personal freedom in the choices of his life ! Surely he should not regard himself guilty if he was not the arbiter of his character ! The ethical argument for personal freedom should be very well fixed in every man's character. It adds conviction 19* 436 T H K w 1 1. 1. . to natural consciousness, that we are all responsible agents because we 2X^free agents. It is difficult to conceive that any one who is sane should imagine that God would im- plant into a creature of his hand a moral nature for the sake of mockery. Surely he who admits the goodness and love of God, will also admit that man must be free if he has really a conscience. Consciousness and memory testify that our will must be free. If it is not free, consciousness and memory constantly deceive us. The Psychological Argument, — After delibera- ting upon diverse motives, we make up our mind. This choice is a free act of the will, if we may trust conscious- ness. At the moment of the choice, we are conscious of the delie/that we could choose otherwise. It is true that we are not conscious of anything past or future; but we certainly are conscious of the delzef that our deliberation was a rational preparation fo7 a free choice. The choice we believe to be possible is, of course, a future something, a something that may never occur; but our belief is an in- stinctive estimation of the present moment. Mkmory al- so testifies that deliberation upon motives was a rational preparation for a free choice: the criminal who is finally caught in what he so fondly made himself believe to have been his only course of conduct, remembers now, with horror, that his choice was a free choice. If this were not his recollection, and if he did not firmly trust its ac- curacy, he surely would not tremble under the accusing voice of a guilty conscience. T H K WILL. 437 294^ Conscience is a logical contradiction of fatalism, which regards man a victim and God a tyrant. The Argument from Contradiction. — Fatalism is the doctrine that man's will is not free: it claims that a man can not do otherwise than he does; it makes environ- ments superior to personal agency; it logically leads to the belief of absolute predestination, a doctrine now al- most obsolete. Absolute predestination claimed that man could do nothing to save or to destroy himself, thus giving no self-determination to man. Fatalism is never a prac- tical life impulse: though superstition may set the day of our death, and determine our life- companion, and enter largely into the strange beliefs of the ignorant, these very people make an effort to avoid such fates and usually suc- ceed. If fatalism be true, the world always has been and always will be deceived. Such a conclusion is beyond the beliefs of common sense and beyond the convictions of sound logic; it makes man a victim, and accuses God of unfairness; the conclusion carries its own refutation. If we have a conscience, then fatalism must be a wretched untruth; for a conscience apart from free will would be a farce. REFUTATION OF OBJECTIONS TO HUMAN FREEDOM. Remarks. — The affirmative argumentation for human freedom is sufficient evidence for a mature and normal mind; but once in awhile a peculiar and abnormal mind, or an impulsive mind, or a biased mind, or a wicked mind, or a shallow mind, or a confused mind, or an un- balanced mind, finds greater weight in an isolated objec- tion than in a system of proof. To protect ourselves from 438 T H K W I Iv I. . the po.ssible influences of such objectors, we should be ready to refute their apparent objections. The limit of our text hinders us from venturing into details ; but it would be evident cowardice and injustice to pass over in silence such objections as may creep into the mind or character of the young and old. F'ive Objections, — We may sum up the main objec- tions under the following headings: i. Emotional Pre- dominance. 2. The Predominance of Motive. 3. The Implied Contrary Choice. 4. The Necessity of Previous Volition. 5. The Apparent Impossibility of Reconciling Divine Supremacy and Human Freedom. The limits of our book will necessitate a brief and practical statement of these objections and their refutation. 295- History records voluntary triumph over the most urgent de- sires, unless the slavery of passion has forfeited freedom. Emotional Predominance Denied, — Those who claim that emotion is predominant over choice and voli- tion, assert that under certain environments of tempera- ment, companionship, education, and habit, a man can not choose otherwise than he does. It is claimed that the inclinations and disposition of the heart make a contrary choice simply impossible. Refutation. — It may be remarked, in the first place, that this objection is based upon acquired phenomena, abnormal outgrowths. Psychology has to do only with the original constitution of the mind, only wdth native endowments. Consciousness and Memory testify that in the moment of a volition we act upon the belief that we could choose otherwise. If consciousness gives trusty reports in other instances, we must accept its evidence in this instance. But if the belief \hws testified to, is the im- T H K WILL. 439 position of fancy or education, human beings are the most deluded creatures of God's universe. This conclusion is absurd. Consciousness and memory thus testify to a possibility of selection. The desires may urge with fierce intensity ; . but we still act as if we were /r^^ to select. Be- lief in the possibility of selectio7i is a proof qI freedom. History records voluntary triumph over the intensest desires. Consciousness and memory are thus confirmed by undeniable proofs of conduct. John B. Gough, the white-haired conqueror of alcoholism in his system, told with touching pathos of the bitter struggle between his desire for drink and his convictions. But in the same confession, he emphatically asserted the triumph of his will under Christian correction. His subsequent life con- firmed the truth of his claim. It is only when the slavery of passion forfeits our freedom, that desire becomes a master. But such a result is not a proof of fatalism ; it is only a proof that when human freedom is despised and trampled upon, this freedom may be taken from us. Z96, If motives are reasons rather than causes, the so-called "strongest" motive may render a choice morally certain, though not morally necessary. The Predominance of Motives Denied, — It has been claimed that under certain moral pressure we could not choose otherwise than we do choose. It is as- serted, by way of explanation, that under these environ- ments one particular motive will always be the ' 'strongest motive'.', and that this motive will prevail. In other words, a man will every time make the same choice under the same circumstances, and he will because he imist. Refutation, — The theory that the strongest motive de- termines human choice, or prevails over voluntary power, 440 T H K W I Iv I. . is the conclusion of a superficial mind. The theory re- sults from a simple confusion of terms employed. It must be remembered that motives are reasons why a man does thus or thtis. The ' 'strongest motive' ' is the best or most pleasing reason for doing a thing. It is the strongest mo- tive, the best reason, because it is the motive selected by the will. Other minds may select another motive, and thus there may be as many ' 'strongest' ' motives as there are minds to make selections. The strongest motive is, therefore, a personal, a rational because rather than a cause. Since it is a thing selected, it can not be a prevailing some- thing — it can be nothing more than the product of a vol- untary choice. If this is true, then the will is the origin, the source, the first cause of all choices. This is a proper conception of the will. If will were not the originating cause of all choices, there would be r\.Q function for a will. Insthict, simple impulse, would be our only life- guide. This is true of the brute mind; but the destiny of human thought and feeling is V01.1T10N: a mind of only thought and feeling would be an undirected mind. If, therefore, the will has ?iny function, it is the function to direct ; but the power to direct implies ih.^ freedom to direct. And, if there is freedom to direct, it must be the freedom of the will. And, if the will is free, then motives can be only reasofis why. To call motives irresistible, prevailing caus- es is to deny the psychologically necessary function of free directive voluntary power. This is, to say the least, a logical absurdity. Conclusion, — We conclude, then, that will is the originating first cause of all choice and of all volition; that motives are resistible reasons why; and that the strongest motive is a personal selection made by a rational will. It is now proper to investigate the effect of such motives upon voluntary action. T H K W I Iv I. . 441 Moral Certainty. — A motive, a reason why, may render a certain choice morally certain. Indeed, we may tell what a man will do, if we know his character and his surroundings : we infer his choice from an estimation of his rational process under the influence of motives ; we are sure he will choose this or that ; it would be unnatu- ral if he chose otherwise; we should be surprised if he did not select the motives as he does. This certainty is called ' ' moral certainty ' ' . The meaning of the word "moral" is based upon its lyatin origin. It means cus- tomary, usual — so usual that we may rely upon its cer- tainty. Right here we must be careful to distinguish be- tween "moral certainty" and "moral necessity". Moral necessity implies a great deal more than moral certainty. He who does a thing under "moral necessity" has no power to do otherwise. Now, motives, even if they be the strongest, render our choices morally certain ; but not morally necessary. This has been explained in the dis- cussion. To say that a choice is a moral necessity, is to. say that motives are the cause and volitions the effect ; but we have learned that will is the cause and that volitions are effects. It is true that motives prompt me to choose this or that ; but /, my will, still do the choosing. The relation of motives to the will may be illustrated by a falling apple. Gravitation is the cause of its falling; but, obstacles in the line of its fall, modify the direction of the fall. The will is like gravitation: it is the cause of our intentional actions. The line of such action has a ra- tional modification in motives. We still act, but we act for some reason why. The Dictum Necessitatis, — The claim that every choice implies a previous choice, is called the ' ' dictum necessitatis " ; it is the doctrine of necessity. Those who held it were called fatalists, necessitarians. Dr. Edwards, the celebrated New England divine, states the doctrine 442 T H B W I Iv L . as follows: " If we should thus cause a volition, we should doubtless cause it by a causal act. It is impossi- ble that we cause an3^thing without a causal act. And as it is supposed that we cause it freely, the causal act must be a free act, i. e., an act of the will, or volition. And as the supposition is, that all our volitions are caused by ourselves, the causal act must be caused by another, and so on infinitely, which is both impossible and incon- ceivable". Of course, the "dictum" is a denial of free- dom. Its force is, that a free volition must be the effect of a preceding free volition, and that such an infinite series is impossible and inconceivable. It means that every causal act must be preceded by another causal act, and that the implied infinite series would make every caused choice or volition at the same time both free and not free. The ' ' dictum ' ' is now no longer held. 297. The *' dictum necessitatis " deceives in its hypothesis that volition is not itself the will's causal act. Refutation of the '' Dictum '\— With Dr. Ed- wards we admit that his supposed infinite series would be both impossible and inconceivable; but we deny that a volition "must" be caused by "another" volition. Such an hypothesis is an utter misconception of mind. It would prove too much and thus be absurd. To say that one causal act must be preceded by another causal act is to rob the word cause of all meaning. A cause is not a cause unless it is an original soutre, 2^ first cause. To say that one volition " must" be caused by another, is to say that we * * must ' ' remember in order to remember, or think in order to think, or feel in order to feel. The no- tion is ludicrous. The hypothesis of the ' ' dictum " is a misconception of the function of the will. A volitio?i is T H K W I L Iv . 443 itself the wilV s causal act. The initial volition of the will is an originating act, a choice; and choice is an effect; but not the effect of a precedirig choice. // is the effect of the will willing. A volition that is not the direct product of the originating will, is not a volition. The volition must be a free act, the act of 2, free will acting freely. Consciousness, memory and history testify that the will can, in the moment of any choice, choose otherwise. Implied Contrary Choice. — Necessitarians hold, that the implied power to choose otherwise in the moment of any given choice, is a power which can not be proved. In other words, freedom of will implies the power to choose otherwise in the moment of any choice; but the objector claims that this implied power is a fiction; and if it is a fiction, there can be no freedom of will. Refutation, — That we do have the power of contrary choice can be shown from consciousness and history. It is true that we may never put forth this contrary choice; but this fact does not deprive us of the psycholog- ical power. A man has the power to do a thing when he has all requisite apparatus and when, he has full con- trol of such apparatus. If, now, he does not choose to exert his power, we can not claim that he has no power to do this thing which he is simply not willing to do. There is manifestly a vast difference between \h& power to do and the actual willi?igness to do. Indeed, a man may never exert his power, and yet possess such power. In like manner, the power of contrary choice may never be exerted; but this is no proof against the existence of the poiver. Consciousness, it is true, can not furnish direct testimony of the power to choose otherwise; for conscious- ness is concerned only with what is in present relation 444 the: W I ly ly . with our mind. Consciousness is not concerned with the past or the future; it can not report the possible, but only the actual. But while consciousness can not give us a direct testimony of power to choose otherwise, it does tes- tify that we act on the belief of 6ur power of contrary choice. If we do not act on this belief, it can not be ex- plained why v^^ deliberate upon several courses; if this belief is a fiction, consciousness reports a lie and induces us to act upon this lie; if the evidence of consciousness is false in this case, we can never act upon its evidence. No one is ready to give up this evidence of consciousness. Indeed, memory and history confirm the report of con- sciousness, that in the moment of any choice, we could have chosen otherwise. Only insanity would dare to leap from the proofs of a universal consciousness. zgg. Human freedom is not inconsistent with divine supremacy; for God lovingly inclines us toward the good and helps us by his grace. Apparent Contradiction, — God's supremacy is a logical -necessity. We can not think of an all-wise, all- powerful and all-knowing God, without admitting that his supremacy is the aim and object of such divine attri- butes. This logical inference is confirmed b}^ revelation. Accordingly, God is able to fore-know what choice a man will make under given environments; but, knowing this much, he is also able to place man in particular environ- ments. It is claimed that if God does this — and we can not believe otherwise — man has no use for the exercise of a will. According to this theory, human freedom is im- possible. 'Refutation, — We assert that human freedom is not inconsistent with divine supremacy. I^et us now remem- THE w I iv iv . 445 ber that human freedom is a freedom of voluntary deter- mination and its mental execution. Such a freedom makes man the responsible agent of all his intentional acts; such a freedom is adequate in the completion of every man's mission in God's plan of creation; such a freedom may have a ratio?ial limitation and yet be sicfficiefit. Our physical and mental constitutions indicate a design in the creation of a human being; human possibilities are in perfect harmony with this design. Design, may limit us to a certain diameter; but the limitation may be dijust and satisfactory one; our constitution does not crave for more; our mind admits the justice of human limitations. Among these limitations we are free to choose and to carry out whatever belongs to our mission. If we make proper use of this freedom, we can execute all those things which lead to highest happiness. Surely no sane mind could object to such a freedom! Even if God places us into certain environments in which we ivill not choose otherwise, he does not cojnpel ns so to choose; but if we choose in the line of inclinations such as God puts into our heart we are surely the happier for it. What freedom could be higher than the freedom to choose those things which tend to our ultimate happiness ? God's touch is al- ways the touch of love; in love there is permission, it is the permission of freedom. Besides this, God helps our fallen weakness of will by touching us with his grace. The religion of Jesus Christ reconciles our will with God's will. 300. " Man is free when he is not controlled by what ought not to control him, and when he need not be controlled by what ought to control him." Reasonable Human Freedom, — The freedom predicated in the above proposition is abundantly satisfac- 44^ T H E W 1 1. 1. . tory to man and infinitely y?^^/ as a divine regulation. Dr. Mann, a celebrated author, teacher, preacher, and theolo- gian, makes the above most happy statement of a diificult topic. The definition conflicts with no one's experience; it is the testimony of consciousness, of ethics, and of re- vealed theology; it is simple and clear enough for all. Such a freedom makes man a moral agent; it is the free- dom which man had before the Fall and ever since ; it is the freedom of the worst criminal and the grandest man- hood ; its limitations are admittedly just. **Not con- trolled by what ought not control' ' , is the freedom a man has under most unfavorable environments. Evil can never predominate over a rational will, unless a man per- mits his soul to be eaten out by vice. ' ' Need not be con- trolled by what ought to control' ' , is the freedom which may resist God's loving guidance. Under such freedom, man may resist the touch of God, refuse grace, reject life and salvation. Though man has adequate moral free- dom, he has absolutely no power to save himself from the penalties of sin; such saving is beyond human possibility. JO J. The freedom which is adequate in moral action and human mission, is, like all other human powers, degenerated and cries out for a Saviour's mediation. Freedom of Will and Divine Mediation. — It has been shown that man has voluntary power over his thoughts; that because feelings are in the line of preced- ing thoughts we have indirect power even over our feel- ings; that we have free power over our own character, so much so that in moral things a man is his own voluntary arbiter; that human freedom is not absolute but relative, a freedom adequate in all that man ought to accomplish in his divinqly appointed mission. But we must not THE W I Iv L . 447 imagine that this freedom is sufficient to work out our own salvation; this is a work beyond our power. A man has no power to will his own freedom from sin, to will his own forgiveness, or to create in himself a " clean heart" and to renew within himself a ' ' right spirit ' ' . The power of regeneration belongs to the Holy Spirit. Rev- erently we confess that our will is too weak, too much prompted by evil, too ready to yield to Satan. Conscience and consciousness are confirmed in this by Holy Writ. Psychological Degeneracy, — At first created in the image of God, the soul has since suffered the degen- eracy of voluntary and hereditary guilt. No mental power, and indeed no human capacity, is any longer an ideal power. Every intellectual power may fail us: mem- ory may fail us; judgment may mislead us; conscience may be weak; reasoning may be dim and uncertain. Our emotional nature is even more degenerate: consciousness and the good Book tell us that ' ' Every imagination of the heart is only evil continually " . If thought ^.n^L feeling are the psychological preparation for volition, then we may expect to find a like degeneracy in our will. And this is what psychology and the Bible alike confess. If then the will is weak, it cries out with Socrates of old, for a Saviour's mediation. It is here that psychology ad- mits human helplessness in the guilt-stained fetters of a fallen nature. Humbly, then, does psychology seek for Calvary and divine mediation. The ransom won for man in the Crucifixion was the ransom of a soul which, though it held in its bosom the strength of a moral giant, wept bitter tears of repentance for guilt. 302. Cultivation of the will, by means of direction, stimulation and self-control, makes manhood sublime. 448 THK wiiyiv. Cultivation, — lyike all other powers, the will may be cultivated by exercise. This exercise should be given under dire:ction, stimui^ation and skI/F-controIv. Such cultivation will help to restore our will to its des- tined pre-eminence; it will enable the will to fulfill a moral mission. Direction, — Our will is a rational will: its functions are preceded by intelligent deliberation, and the delibera- tion is a rational preparation for volition, If, now, this deliberation be guided, directed, and urged by an intellect- ual education, our volitions are more likely to be in the line of right. The . motives that will then prompt our volitions will be those of duty rather than those of d:^- SIRK. Stimulation, — To stimulate is to encourage by hope. A rational will may be stimulated by holding out the hope of voluntary attainments. The grand models of history may be held up for our imitation: such a strength of will as is to be seen in the character of Socrates, Na- poleon, Cranmer, lyUther, Washington, Gladstone, Web- ster, and others, will inspire a man with courage. Ora- tory, discovery, skill, success, character, &c., are the re- sults to be secured. Self- Control, — Perhaps the honest eiForts of self-con- trol are the most fruitful exercise of the will. Self-control is a mastery of self under adverse environments. Irrita- tion, anger, difiiculty, obstacles, etc., must be overcome; the mind must be made to feel its own power over such things. At West Point, the initiaton of a new cadet in- cludes taunting and vexation. The old cadets compel the new cadet to endure all sorts of annoyances. The cus- tom seems barbarous; but when we remember that its aim is to make the military graduate a calm and self-possessed leader of men, we are perhaps ready to admit the reason- ableness of its continuance. Self-control makes the orator T H K W 1 1. ly . 449 an immovable giant in the face of opposition; it makes the warrior a Stone Wall Jackson, or a Grant at Vicks- burg; it makes the teacher a central force around which his pupils crowd for strength; it makes the martyr as calm as the unruffled expanse of the wide Pacific. The recip- rocal relation of body and mind makes it important to gain control over our physiological functions. He who can not control his appetites is the child of weakness. Culti- vation of the will, however, can not reach beyond the mis- sion of a moral responsibility. The religion of Jesus Christ is the proper correction for a hu- man will. It will reconcile desire with duty. Correction of the Human Will. — That cultiva- tion is a necessity, because of a psychological degeneracy, is an indisputable fact; that such cultivation enables man to fill his moral mission is also admitted. But it is also important to give this will more than an intellectual prep- aration. An intellectual education gives us wisdom and scholarship, but may not reach the heart. The heart is the impulse to voluntary conduct. Desire is often in fierce conflict with duty. Unison of desire and duty can be secured only by spiritual rkgknkration. Desire and duty can be reconciled only when God gives us a new, clean heart. The man who determines to place himself outside of grace, outside of the means of grace; outside of the Christian church and its fellowship; outside of the in- fluence of prayer and worship; outside of Biblical inspira- tion, sadly over-estimates his will, fatally mistakes his destiny, and too late will reap the whirlwind because he sowed to the wind. 450 T H K W I ly I. . RESUME ON THE WILL. Resume. — The investigation of the will has led us to the following resume. It is the determinative and execu- tive power of the mind. Its two functions are, therefore, DKTE^RMiNATivK and executive:. The study of the will is difficult, as may be inferred from historical controversies and subsequent diversity of opinions. The will has a four- fold importance : it is the arbiter of mental activity ; it is the arbiter of practical conduct ; it is the arbiter of character; it is the basis of theology. An analysis of voluntary conduct shows that determination, or choice, may have Thrkk dBSTiniKS: choice may end in mental execution; it may end in simple preference; it may yield to another choice. The first destiny may be illustrated by what goes on in the mind of a political candidate; the second, by what goes on in the mind of one who has chosen a profession; the third, by the mental operations of the Prodigal Son. The mental operations in each case can be easily proved by outward conduct. A detailed analysis, based on the previous induction, reveals four elements of voluntary action. These four elements are knds, motivks, choice. Executive V01.1- TiON. Knds are things to be accomplished ; motives are reasons why ; choice is an initial act of the will ; and ex- ecution is a final act of the will. Knds and motives are antecedents of voluntary action ; choice and volition are functional acts of the will. Motives are resistible impulses. If motives were irresistible impulses, we could not ac- count for deliberation or choice. Desire and duty are the two main sources of motives. When desire is in con- FiyiCT with duty, life becomes a struggle ; but when de- sire and duty are in unison, life becomes a happy dream. Psychological degeneracy is the cause of this conflict, the: WII.L. 451 and GRACE is the reconciliation necessary to secure uni- son of desire and duty. Choice is an initial act of the will, and for this reason is called the initial volition. It is a determination, a de- civsion, a making up of one's mind. The root of choice is diversity of objects. Diversity of objects gives liberty of selection. We deliberate because we believe in this liberty of selection, and we decide, Or choose, after the delibera- tion. The development of a choice thus includes four distinct and necessary steps. A future choice maj^ be a moral certainty, because we usually decide in the line of environments; but a choice can not be a " moral necessity' ' , because this would make the will a psychological figure-head. The mental execution of a choice is called the final VOLITION, because it is the ending of an initial act of the will. The final volition must be 2, free act, or else the in- itial act has no rational use; it is an irrevocable act, and carries responsibility with it. Volition is a first cause among psychological phenomena. Thoughts and feelings imply directive power. This is the power of volition. The will is a first cause. In order to be such a first cause the will must be free. Freedom of the will is not a freedom of historical prod- ucts; it is a freedom of its Two functions. If only deter- mination were free, we could give no rational account of the subsequent final volition. Freedom of the will is based upon four affirmative arguments. The connnon sense argument holds that conviction and belief prompt men to act as if free, and, that if this belief is false, our will must be a farce. This we can not admit. Conviction is the result of proof; belief often precedes proof. The ethical argument holds that a moral nature wnth only a conscience to distinguish the right and its obliga- tion, would be an imperfect moral nature apart from free- 20 452 THK WII.I. . dom of the will. This inference is confirmed by our ina- bility to account for remorse and government, unless guilt is the product oi free volition. The psychological argument holds that consciousness and memory testify to a belief in our freedom at the moment of any choice. If we can not rely on consciousness in this testimony, we can not rely on it in other instances. But we must and do rely on the witness of consciousness. The argument from contradictioti di^rtus that if there is no freedom of will, man is the victim of fatalism and God the arbiter of deepest injustice. But such conclusions are logically absurd. These arguments usually secure conviction; but abnor- mal environments may suggest apparent objections. Five main objections are urged against freedom. It is affirmed that some emotions hold predominance over the will. Kxperience and history show the objection to be a superficial one. It is affirmed that the " strongest motive" makes choice a " moral necessity." Consciousness and logic show that there is no such a thing as the ' ' strongest motive' ' , un- less it be the selection of a rational will. In that case the will is still the predominant factor. It is affirmed that freedom of will implies the freedom of a contrary choice and that we can not prove that a con- trary choice is a fact. But consciousness and memory show that we believe in the possibility of another choice. This is the psychological argument. ^ It is affirmed that freedom of choice implies an infinite series of dependent choices, thus making each choice at the same moment both free and not free, and that such a thing is impossible and inconceivable. But the hypothe- sis is a false one; it erroneously supposes that another choice is the caiise, while really the will itself is the original, ef- ficient cause of choice. T H K w I iv L . 453 It is affirmed that if God is ruler supreme, man can not be a free agent. But this is not an inevitable conclusion, because God never leads to evil, but as a loving father prompts toward good. He does not make our obedience a moral necessity. Experience and the Bible confirm this view. Dr. Mann's definition is : A man isfree when he is not controlled by what ought not control him, and when he need not be controlled by what ought to control him. This is an adequate and satisfactory human freedom. But while we have adequate moral freedom, our psy- chological degeneracy cries out for divine mediation in re- ligious matters. Cultivation is thus necessary in the ful- fillment of our moral mission, and the correction of the Christian religion is necessary for salvation. We have now summed up the main facts in the inves- tigation of the human will and its mission. The student of psychology should not imagine that his own investiga- tion may now cease. The limits of a text book forbid an extensive discussion. It has been the aim of the author to present the facts pertaining to the will in as short and simple a way as possible, and with the hope that the stu- dent may grasp the spirit of such an important study. PART FOURTH, Psychological Supplement. A. PEJCULIAR MKNTAI, PHKNOMKNA. SI Sep 304' Primarily sleep is a sense-exhaustion which results in loss of sense-relations and loss of power over body and mind. Nature of Sleep, — Sleep, dreams, somnambulism, insanity and mesmerism, are probably mental modifica- tions dependent upon conditions of the cerebral and ner- vous organism. The word sleep refers rather to an ac- companiment of sleep than to sleep itself. Sleep is a SE^NSK- EXHAUSTION. Our nervous organization is subject to loss of particles and vital force; every effort of body and mind costs some nerve tissue. Our Creator has so ar- ranged that this exhausted nerve organization should re- pair itself b}^ sleep; and to make sleep an adequate provi- sion, it must be an zrresistid/e result of sense-exhaustion. 45^ sIvBK:p. In sleep the five sense-gateways escape our voluntary con- trol, and we lose the ordinarj^ relation between self and our sense environments. Z/OSS of Relation. — Sleep, the result of sense-ex- haustion, closes all the gateways of communication with the world about us. So far as the sleeper is concerned, external environments have ceased to exist; the picture gallery of the sense- world has faded out of the mind's con- scious horizon. In sleep, we know nothing of orange- flavor, nothing of rose- fragrance, nothing of lovely song- voices. Proximity of sense-objects does not cause a throb or a tremor in the sleeper. The closing of sense- gateways is followed by an instantaneous loss of consciousness of our place in the external series; we are no longer con- scious of the things that come to us through the senses. Of mental operations in dreaming, the sleeper is still con- scious. We know this from the fact that, on being sud- denly awaked, we recall onr dream. Sleep does not even rob us of all self- consciousness; for the sleeper's conscious- ness still is his voucher of continued personal existence. It is, however, true that this voucher of personal identity is not very urgent. I/OSS of Power, — It can not be proved that, when the senses are asleep, the mind has any power over itself or over the body. Sense-exhaustion is, conformably with this statement, followed by loss of power over mind and body. Our nerve- organisms are servants of the mind and of the will, but the mind can not use these servants when they require divinely appointed rest. Under the pressure of self-preservation, our senses and our nerve- organisms are taken out of our control by this irresistible restorer of energy. The provision is wise and practical; it is God's provision. Sense-exhaustion results, first, in loss of power over the body: the muscles relax and the frame sinks un- der its own weight; the eyelids, neck and limbs, are per- SLKKl^. ' 457 haps first to escape voluntas control. Vital functions, such as digestion, circulation and respiration, are not in- terrupted by sleep. Even in our waking hours, we can only modify the character of su.ch functions, much less cojitrol them; and in sleep, vital functions are wisely con- tinued independent of human thought or human volition. The sleeper also loses power over his mental operations. Thoughts and feelings will continue in sleep; but under most incongruous modifications. 305^ Sight, taste, smell, hearing, and touch fall asleep in succes- sion, unless the senses are not in a normal condition. F'alling Asleep. — This is a gradual loss of sense- communication. The order of succession above indicated has many exceptions; it is modified b}^ temperament, habit, disease or imperfection of a sense, and by special vocations. Under ordinary conditions it is natural for the eye to go to sleep first; because it is employed so constantly. Opiates and other somniferous articles of food or drink, will, by reason of sympathetic nerves, cause the eye to fall asleep unnaturally soon. Other influences also mscy hasten the sleep of sight. That the eye is first to fall asleep may be noticed in a public audience or in a class-room. The good deacon still hears his eloquent pastor's voice; but the deacon's eyelids have closed, and, perhaps his head has sought the tender protection of the pew in front — a fortu- nate preservation from a lower gravitation. The sense of taste follows sight in going to sleep. For this reason we taste a trochee when the eye is asleep. The sense of smell follows taste in going to sleep. For this reason we smell sulphur after the trochee has ceased to affect the sense of taste. The sense of hearing follows smell in going to sleep. For this reason we are startled by * ' electric bells' ' 458 S I. E E P . when sulphur no longer warns UvS of danger. Touch is last in the series. For this reason a slight touch upon our cheek is noticed after we have ceased to hear ' ' elec- tric bells". It seems natural that the seiise of touch should be last to go to vsleep. In the animal world, touch is a significant warning against imminent danger; the sense of touch is a final chance to escape from imminent danger. Death, — Death resembles sleep; it is an absolute sleep of all our senses. We may not be able to prove that touch gives way last in the dying person; but many things indicate as much as this. But it is well known that hearing is still active even when the eye has glazed and taste has forever flown. For this reason, it may be cruel- ty to converse or to weep in the presence of our depart- ing ones. 306, We fall asleep unconsciously, though we may be conscious of gradual approaches to sleep. Unconscious Falling Asleep, — We may try to de- tect the exact moment of going to sleep; but we shall meet with no success. Sometimes people go to sleep over a book, drop the book, and snore; but, on being accused of sleeping, they stoutly deny it. Sick persons, after dozing for minutes, sometimes complain of sleeplessness; they often do not know that they have slept. But we may be conscious oi approaching drowsiness: we may feel sure that sleep is coming; that languor is stealing upon us; that a drifting of sense will soon drift us into sweet slumbers; we may even rCvSist such approaches, and rebel against such uninvited encroachments upon our purposes. When, however, the moment of falling asleep comes, conscious- ness of vSense-relations has also gone ivith sense- exhaust- ion. It is a blessed thought that death will be some- S I. E E P . 459 thing like this unconscious falling to sleep; that earth-ties will be u7iconscio2isly severed; that we can thus pass away in peace. 307^ In sleep there are spontaneous mental operations ; but the mental products are incongruous combinations. Asleep, — We have already noticed that mental opera- tions in sleep are conscious phenomena. We have also in- dicated the absence of volition; but absence of volition re- moves the possibility of proper atteyitioii. Of course, perception has ceased because the sense-gateways have closed. But MEMORY continues to be active, perhaps grotesquely so, but still active as memory. Its record may be false or partial; but often it is remarkablj^ true. The sleeper's memory will recall his previous occupation, previous scenes, and previous experience. Fancy may touch these memories with modifications; but the sleeper has often told from memory what he would never have cared to tell in his waking hours. Indeed, memory is the suggestive basis of dreams. Imagination is intensely act- ive in the sleeper. The most grotesque, the most unex- pected, the most unreal and unthought-of pictures will be thrown upon the mental canvas of the dreamer's mind. The sleeper's imagination seems to be utterly out of vol- untary control ; it is pitiless, uncouth and wayward. Sleep does not exclude the exercise of judgment : the mind of the sleeper still estimates time, actions, &c. The judgment is, however, usually erroneous; and most per- sons would blush to do, in waking hours, what their judgment in sleep decided to be appropriate. The sleeper is active in reasoning. There is often very little rela- tion between the premises; and much less is the conclu- sion an outgrowth of the premises. Reasoning will, how- 20* 460 SLEEP. ever, carry on a debate or an argument. Some minds reason out practicable plans, work out problems, reach a conclusion in matters of doubt, &c. But it must be re- membered that coherent reasoning is the exception in a sleeper. As a rule, the operations of the understanding are confused and incoherent. Primary ideas and primary truths of Reason, or Intuition, are still the basis of all dream-thoughts. The sleeper in his dream flies through space; patiently endures the slow movement of time; con- forms his dream-action to a notion of cause and effect; wanders over bea^itiful fields, hears the rushing waters of a sublime Niagara, enjoys wit and humor, feels disgusted with disagreeable imagery; decides his actions to be right or wrong. The activity of conscience is, however, very faulty in sleep: murder is committed with as little re- pentance as that of a confirmed criminal. The EMOTiONAiv NATURE of the mind may be quite act- ive in sleep. The dreamer smiles in cheerfulness, sighs with 7nela7icholy , weeps in sorrow and sympathy. The dreamer's affections are all alive. He loves his kin- dred; wanders in the sweet fields with a beloved friend; fights the battle oi patriotism; grasps the hand of a kind benefactor. So, too, the dreamer envies, hates, cherishes iealousy, and wreaks out his vengeance. Of course, it was " only a dream" . The DESIRES are all represented in dreams. Excellence, power, property, society, &c., are still objects of intense longing. Hope grows more ardent, or fear more intense. But the wiivi. has given up his rightful throne in the sleeper's mind. Thoughts and feelings are not directed by choice. The thoughts fly off at a tangent at every new moment; the feelings are still impulses to action, but action that is not chosen, not determined. In this respect, sleep resembles insanity. Indeed, the loss of vol- untary control in our sleep, makes our dreams seem so SI.es p. 4^1 vividly reaL Whatever is out of our power when we are awake has to us an emphatic value; so in our sleep, dreams have an emphatic reality because we can not con- trol them. ]3 reams. 308. A dream is any mental action in sleep. Dreams are some- what coherent and conscious, though involuntary and often not remembered. Nature of Dreams, — Any mental process during sleep may be called a dream; but usually we call only that a dream which has some coherence. It seems con- tradictor>" to say that dreams can be coherent and yet in- voluntary. A dream is coherent when the line of dream- thought is in some particular direction. In our waking hours, we ma^^ direct our mental operations by volitio7i; but even when awake we can not always 7'esist a current of thoughts. In other words, a coherent dream is the product of acquired momentum. In the physical world, whatever has received impulse acquires momentum. If there is a reciprocal relation between brain and mind, then it is only natural to infer that the impulse imparted to the brain by the mind during waking hours, will be trans- ferred ^gain to the mind and impart its acquired momen- tum to any previous current of thought. It is thus tha.t dream- thought may be a coherent current even when there is no volition. Problems may thus be solved, con- clusions reached, and obstacles surmounted, that had puzzled the weary brain before we retired for sleep and rest. That dreams are not voluntary phenomena, is also shown by the common experience that on falling to sleep, just before we have lost voluntary control, we can not by a volition resist the dream-images that crowd into the mind. Dreams are conscious phenomena. When we are DREAMS. 463 suddenly awakened from a dream, we are often able to recall it. If the dream had been unconscious action, we would not have been able to recall it; for we can surely never recall that of which we were never conscious; con- sciousness is the basis of memory. But while we are conscious of these internal, mental phenomena, .we are not conscious of our external environments. That we are not conscious of external environments is, however, no more a proof that we are entirel}^ unconscious, than that we are unconscious of Africa is a proof that we do not exist. But we may not be sitfficiently conscious, of a dream to recall it when we awake. That we can not recall the dream, is no proof that we had no dream. Indeed, it is likely that we dream zvhenever ^e sleep; for our senses are perhaps never in complete sleep. As long as the reciprocal rela- tion of brain and mijid is retained, sleep will be likely to produce dreams. All ordinary dreams have their origin in bodily and mental suggestion. They are the product of acquired impulse. Origin of Dreams, — Suggestion and acquired im- pulse lie at the basis of all ordinary dreams. This sug- gestion may come from the sensoriuvi or from previous currents of thought. The sensorium, as affected during sleep or as impressed previous to sleep, may contain sen- sations that suggest a particular dream. Uneasiness of sensation is likely to lead to most gruesome products of dream-imagination; and easiness of sensation may lead to most delightful dreams. These sensations may be the result of intense physical application, of migrating germs of latent disease, and of indefinite sense- apprehension in sleep. Sensations of the body during previous waking- hours were connected with mental operations; on falling 4^4 D RE A MS. to sleep, these mental operations will continue as sug- gested acquired impulse. Illustrations may be found in every person's experiences. The hard bed may suggest a railroad collision; the tight-fitting collar may suggest ha^iging — especially if on the preceding day conscience condemned a guilty deed, and recommended hanging or choking; indigestion may suggest the Prince of demons seated upon our stomach, with the statue of Liberty in his lap; or it may lead to most horrible night-mare. In- deed, the sympathetic nerves connecting the brain with the stomach make the influence of indigestion unusually decisive. The late supper, especially if it be composed of spices, condiments and sweet-meats, has often brought us into the shadowy land of frightful dreams. The sense of touch is often suggestive to the dreamer. Hot bricks at the feet of the sick patient may prompt the dreamer to suddenly raise himself up in wild consternation because of a horrible dream. The person thus waked up may not know the connection between hot bricks and his dream; but that is no proof that the bricks were not a suggestion. The sense of hearing may bring into the sensorium an in- definite report, as of a falling window or a slamming door; the judgment may make a wrong inference, and, in a mo- ment, the dreamer is in the midst of a bloody battle. The student of history, or the soldier, would be likely to dream in this line. That a dreamer may be thus influenced was tested by the soldiers who watched a comrade, put a pis- tol into his hand at the right time, and awaited the re- sults. The man fired the shot as if in an actual duel. The experiment was a risk. Latent diskask may de- velop in our vital organs for days or months. The mi- grating microbes of Typhoid fever and the ravages of hereditary Tuberculosis may not annoy the person when awake; but in sleep such intruders will cause emphatic uneasiness in the sensorium. The suggestion will give D R K A M S . 465 complexion to dreams, and often make the dream a sad prophecy. Mental Suggestion, — Previous currents of thought, natural disposition, and prevalent states of mind, often are the suggestive sources of dreams. Acquired impulse will be more intense in proportion to the i7itense applica- tion or vivid impressioyi of antecedent mental operations. Latent talent and intense life-preferences will often pro- ject themselves in our dreams. Intense application to a mathematical problem may not result in a solution; we retire for rest; two results may follow. Acquired impulse may continue the effort to solve the problem; and, unannoyed by the disturbances of external sense- influences, the dreamer may hit upon the missing link that was not discovered when the dreamer retired. This is doubtless the explanation of some such solutions. The solution was easily recalled the next day, not because new vigor was there, but be- cause the mind had worked. The dreamer may not even remember such sub-conscious mental operations; but in some mysterious way the solution has been made easy. Perhaps a little more application before sleeping would have succeeded. Other solutions can not be explained in this way. In the evening, the solution may have been impossible be- cause the sensorium was exhausted. In consequence of such nervous exhaustion, consciousness was indefinite and mental acuteness was dulled; but after sleep, the rest had re- invigorated the nerves and senses; consciousness be- came a clear light and the understanding was acute. The question was now easily solved, because the missing link was readily found by renewed acuteness of thought. In- deed, this result may occur before we are properly awake, giving the appearance of long continued dreams to this operation. Many students have had experiences that can 466 D R K A M S . be explained in this way. Hither the acquired impulse of previous application or the ix7iewed mefital vigor resultant upon sleep, will account for such remarkable dreams. The statesman's unfinished "bill", the general's plan, the mathematician's problem, the orator's speech, as produced in dreams, may be thus explained. IvATEnt talent and INTENSE lyiFE-PREFERENCES project themselves into our dream world, Many a man may choose a profession or settle down in a course of life that is not the outgrowth of emphatic genius or strongest inclination. Environ- ments may make a choice the best one under the circum- stances; but if the latter should change, another choice would project itself. In sleep, these preferences will make the dreamer an orator, a lawyer, a preacher, a teacher, an artist. President Edwards watched his dreams because he thought they were an exponent of natural character. Every one knows how our heart- impulses color our dreams. ..Perhaps we should not be willing to confess to ourselves or to the world the secret preferences of our heart life. Religious conviction and moral persuasion may enable us to struggle against such impulses. But when the senses sleep, the dreamer will act with more freedom from these restraints. This is more than fiction. While our dreams are 7iot usually a reliable evidence of actual character, they may be an evidence of natural inclination. At any rate, we can not believe that au}^ dream is an uncaused phe- nomenon of the mind. 3^0, Dreams are incoherent because sleep breaks sense-communi- cation; apparently real, because out of our control; and seemingly long-continued, because of an inference based upon experience. Characteristics. — In sleep, the gate- ways of sense- communication with external environments are closed. D K E A M S . 467 upon the information of these senses, our inferaice and our interpi^etations depend. If now the senses no longer furnish the dreamer with proper data as to concrete time and place, he is, as it were, cast adrift in his estimation of these items. In consequence of such loss of relation, the dreamer is not limited to any particular place or to any particular time. The dream thus becomes a chaotic con- fusion of items. The most incongruous and inappropri- ate links are put together with impunity. Taste and judg- ment and conscience are almost deprived of their functions, at least they become utterly unreliable. Dreams are apparkntIvY rKAIv, because sleep deprives of voluntary control over mental operations. In our wak- ing hours, whatever is out of our control assumes an ob- jective value. We magnify such items and look upon them as remarkable. In our dreams, we do the same thing. The dreamer is a passive spectator of the images and trains that pass in grand parade over the dream-horizon. The dream no longer seems a subjective something; but an oh^Qctive projection. True it is, that such a projection is only that of fancy, but the dreamer can not tell this. In this respect, a dream is like the wild phantasies of fever- delirium. The dreamer and the fever patient are both deceived in their inference. Dreams seem to be 1.0NG- CONTINUED, because the dreamer's standard of estimation is that of actual experience. What is objectively pro- jected in our dreams, would have, if it had occurred in waking hours, occupied about so much time. The sug- gestion of an actual experience thus becomes the standard for comparison in dreams. We usually think our dreams occupied a much longer time than they really did. Some- times we are deceived into the belief that we have been dreaming a whole night long, when it is utterly untrue. An officer during the French Revolution dreamed that he had watched a procession of bloody warriors file down the 468 . D R K A M S . streets of Paris for several hours. But he had dreamed this in they^w 7iiome7its that intervened between the chal- lenge of the sentry and the sentinel's reply. Prophetic dreams are mysterious communications. They can not be mere co-incidence; they are not supernatural. Prophetic Dreams, — That some dreams do not orig- inate from acquired impulse and from ordinary suggestion, seems to be confirmed by reliable testimony. The good Book reports such dreams and they may occur even now, though any report of such a dream ought to be received with some suspicion. That such dreams are more than mere coincidknck seems self-evident: they accord with the actual in too many particulars. Co-incidences they are; but they must be moi^e than this. That they are not SUPKRNATURAiv seems to be equally evident; for God does not act when the act would be useless or unnecessary. But it can be shown that so-called prophetic dreams are useless, too late, or evidently unnecessary. That some dreams are prophetic, even if they are not supernatural, is an inference confirmed by laws in the physical world. It can be shown that all material substance is subject to electric communication. And it is quite likely that a similar magnetic communication between the sensoriums of men should reveal things that lie beyond our immedi- ate present. Indeed, that mind may influence distant minds — especially if the persons are interested in each other — seems to be beyond doubt. Reliable statistics con- firm the inference. What is known as prkskntime^nt is not all fancy and superstition. The strange foretellings of our mothers is not all phantasy. It is but a shallow philosophy to pass over such mental phenomena with an unbelieving shrug. The dreams of two Arcadians, as re- DREAMS. 469 ported by Cicero; the dream of Dr. Moore; and the pre- sentiments recorded by the Phila. "Press" are herein point. Dr. Moore, a cautious writer himself, dreamed that in a customary ramble through a cemetery he had seen a newly raised tombstone with the inscription of the date and death of a friend with whom he had passed the evening before his dream. When this date came, he noticed in a daily paper the account of his friend's death, and the date was that on the dream-tomb. The " Press" recorded the strange presentiment of a man standing on the plat- form of a junction depot where he could take the train either for his place of businCvSS or for his home. Some- thing seemed to warn him to go home, and when he reached home his fears were found correct. 0-Lll"L o-mnaTTi o-li ixsm. 31^' The Phenomena of somnambulism are: 1. Physical locomotion. 2. Artistic genius and skill. 3. Uninterrupted vision. 4. Vocal and tactual review. 5. Loss of sense-relations. 6. Clear con- sciousness, but no volition. Phenomena, — The formation of the word somnam- bulism, sleep-walking , refers to the physical locomotion that commonly accompanies the causative mental activity. But PHYSiCAi^ ivOCOMOTiON, such as walking along the edge of precipices, running through dark cellars, writ- ing with pen or pencil, reading or talking aloud, resisting capture when detected by friends or enemies, is the least important among the phenomena of the magnetic condi- tion called somnambulism. Artistic gknius and skill are as possible for the som- nambulist as for any one else. Indeed, the genius of anj^ person will be emphasized under the magnetic spell of som- nambulism. The young theologian of Bordeaux wrote whole pages of manuscript when every other sense but touch was useless. Without light, he selected his favorite sermon sheets, erased words that displeased him, after- wards read his composition aloud and made necessary cor- rections in penmanship. The young lady artist, in a French school, who, after intense application in a prize contest, arose at night and gradually completed a product of high genius, is here in point. With all the senses, except touch, fast asleep, this girl selected proper colors, pencils, brushes and chair; worked at what she had started; based her judgment and skill upon memory and out-did her waking powers. Here SOMNAMBULISM. 47 1 we have vision without the use of the proper organ and in the darkness; here we have highly conscious impulses and skilful execution, followed by a stout denial of all that she had done. Our evidence is the undoubted testi- mony of a whole school. Blind impulse, automatic propulsion, would account for locomotion, but it does not account for products of genius and delicate skill; it does not account for vision without the use of special organs; it does not account for dotting i's and crossing t's; it does not account for avoid- ance of danger and detection. Loss of sense-relations and continuance of consciousness appear to be practical contradictions; but they may be such only until we remember that the senses are not our only source of information. Volition is unnecessary and impracticable in cases of somnambulism; and yet there is impulse and direction there that looks like free volition. Somnambulism is the magnetic condition suggested by the acquired impulse of intense application and vivid impression. Origin of Somnambulism, — In all the illustra- tions that have come to our attention, the somnambulist was under the intense pressure of application and vivid impression. The convictions of the theologian, the desire for success in the girl artist, the nervous excitement of strange experiences, &c., all these acquired an impulse that continued into sleep. We can not tell 7ej/ij/ such ap- plication does not always result in somnambulism; but we do know that such application and excitement invari- ably precede it. We are almost compelled to admit that such invariable connections indicate the relation of catise a?id effect. An abnormal sensoriimi may explain why 472 SOMNAMBULISM. only some persons are thus affected. The acquired im- pui.se of preceding mental exertion is such a common phenomenon that we do not hesitate to name it as the suggestion of somnambulism. The suggestion is an out- growth of the reciprocal relation of sensorium and mind. This relation we have already noticed. That somnambu- lism is the product of magnetic suggestion and the effect of magnetic impulse, seems to be a natural inference. 314' Physical locomotion, artistic genius and skill, are the result of intensified mental energy and a tactual merging of all sen- sation. Phenomena Explained, — We have already re- ferred to the loss of all sense-relations, except that of touch. That difficult and skilful acts may be performed by the sense of touch is known by all. The bli7id pianist and the deaf organist play the most intricate harmonies, guided only by the sense of touch. In certain animals, such as the bat, safety is as certain when the animal avoids dan- ger by means of touch as when the eye and ear remained. Indeed, the special organs of sense are only modifications of the general organism of touch. There seems to be no reason why touch, under the impulse of intensified mental energy, should not be a sufficient guide to physical loco- motion and artistic skill. Intensified mental energy makes the orator out-do all previous effort; it wins a bat- tle for the hero who is under its inspiration. All this is the testimony of experience and history. Why could not such intensified mental energy heighten physical and mental possibilities in the somnambulist ? We all know how much mental energy influences the body. The de- bater will here remember how he trembles with inspira- SOMNAMBULISM. 473 tioii and conviction. In a similar way, greater genius and skill belong to somnambulism. Intensified mental energy thus results in directed im- pulse that makes free volition psychologically unneces- sary and useless. The force thus transmitted from the mind to the body directs the bodily movements along the line of mental operations. This explains why vocal and tactual revision of the theologian's manuscript was possi- ble. Mental energy that prompted the thought to be written, surely may guide the hand in its executions. The vocal revision of the manuscript was not a mere tracing of reme^nbered words. It is true that mental en- ergy which is strong enough to write the manuscript, would make it quite possible for memory to recall what was written and to stop at words that displeased; but this does not account for the stop at a particular poi7it on paper, or for erasures and corrections. Something more is here necessary; these actions require vision. We can not con- ceive of blind impulse as sufficient for such action; we can not conceive that such things are done unless the writer kyiew what he was about. Vision there must have been and vision is a conscious phenomenon. In our wak- ing moments, skill applied to efforts of genius requires a mind that is under full consciousness. If there is vision, it must be vision that is not interrupted by the constraint of physical organs, or by obstacles. Indeed, we often hear what we desire to hear in spite of other sounds, and we often see what we seek even in a confused crowd. In- terruptions to sense- apprehension may make vision more difficult in waking hours, but need not prevent it. Our notion of a spirit, or soul, is in accord with this teaching. The soul will not always be confined to a phys- ical casket. And why vShould not a soul, though under the ordinary necessity of physical organs of sense, peer beyond and through all physical interruption ? Intensified 474 SOMNAMBULISM. mental energy may free the soul from bodily dependen- cies. But why, if in somnambulism there is such uninter- rupted vision, does the person not take notice of other things in his immediate presence ? This is also explained by a parallel in our waking hours. Deep interest in a problem or some other solution often intensifies our line of thought so much in one direction, that all other sense relations are lost for the time being. The clock may tick or strike, and we do not pay any attention to it. Every one is familiar with such possibilities. The intensified mental energy caused by magnetic suggestion is surely sufficient reason why, in somnambulism, the sleeper does hot take notice of ordinary items. The accurate and delicate skill of somnambulism must be either conscious or unconscious phenomena.- If the theological student and the lady artist referred to in the preceding pages, did what they did without conscious- ness, then their actions must have been the product of blind impulse; but we do not know of such an occurrence in all experience. The acts referred to can not possibly have occurred without consciousness. On the contrary, if we are right in our conception of mind, and if we may base our inference upon the psychologic necessity of con- sciousness in the manifestations of skill and genius when persons are not in a magnetic state, then the acts of the theological student and of the lady artist must have been acts of most defi7iite consciousness. But the question now presents itself, ' 'Why, if consciousness, and especially def- inite consciousness, is the proper basis of memory, are not the acts of the somnambulist remembered when he wakes up ?" To understand this we must recall the exact relation of sense- apprehension and consciousness. We are conscious only of those sense-relations that enter our inune- diate me7ital presence; we are not conscious of the ear' s SOMNAMBULISM. 475 report that a clock is ticking when we are intensely in- terested in a special solution; but, that we are not con- scious of this particular sense-report, is not a proof that we are working" at our problem ivlthout consciousness. We are at this moment not conscious of anything in Africa, and yet are perfectly conscious of the thought that we are conveying to this paper. So, too, the acts of somnambu- lism are conscious acts, even if the actor is not conscious of reports that have not come into his mind through the organs of sight and hearing, etc. He is conscious only of that which has an intense interest to himself; and this is an interest that fills his mind independently of se?ise- relations. Consciousness of mental activity that did not depend upon sense -relations, is not a basis for memory when the somnambulist has returned to the consciousness of sense -relations. Indeed, the magnetic state of con- sciousness is a thing so distinct from that of sense- con- sciousness, that memory in the latter state could not ps}^- chologically refer to the former. The grounds just mentioned may require accurate no- tions of niiiid and accurate notions of the relation between sensation and consciousness; but we are convinced that the student who will 7naster the essentials will be rewarded by a satisfactory grasp of the doctrine presented. It will not be questioned, we believe, that somnambulism is an abnormal condition. If this be admitted, we do not see why the somnambulist should remember his acts when he again enters a normal condition. Indeed, we have a per- fect parallel in the case of persons who do not, for some time, after a severe concussion of the brain, remember their previous life. At some point the connection be- tween consciousness and memory was interrupted in both cases; and the interruption seems to be more definite, more complete, in the magnetic grasp of somnambulism. 21 Tf[ esmerxsm, 315' Mesmerism is a voluntary conquest of another's sensorium. The mesmerized person will execute the conqueror's volitions. Mesmerism, — The vSensorium is the medium between volition and physical execution of volitions. In mes- merism, a positive temperament may voluntarily subdue the sensorium of a less positive temperament, and, through this medium, maj^ assume directive power over the physi- cal acts of the person mesmerized. In this condition, the conquered sensorium is made the captive servant of an other's will. The phenomena of mesmerism are products resultant from the influence of one mind over another through the medium of the nervous system. That some minds are predominant over others, in a kind of mesmeric magnetism, is seen in the natural preference or avoidance of associates. There seems to be an attraction between positive and negative temperaments, and a magnetic re- pulsion between two relatively positive temperaments. Of course, the influence is relative^ rather than absolute. This difference of magnetic force is applied in the attempts of positive natures to cure diseases, such as rheumatism. Sometimes the efforts succeed; at other times failure in- dicates magnetic repulsion. So-called "pow-wowing" has an atom of success in it, based upon mesmeric mag- netism. But the more positive phenomena of mesmeric magne- tism are those indicated in the proposition. The author recalls an illustration of such mesmerism. At a picnic, some one proposed an experiment in mesmerism. A MESMERISM. ,. 477 young lady student was to be conquered. The party formed a circuit of hands about the lady's neck, and all willed that she should move toward a certain person. Of course, the lady did not know this choice of the party. Gradually her veins became swollen, her face grew pale, and she trembled; but she moved in the direction se- cretly agreed upon by the mesmerizers. Mesmerism should be guarded against; for severe ner- vous prostration is apt to follow it, and permanent injury may result. He who knows his power in this respect should be very careful in his application. He who holds firm control over his own imagination is in but little dan- ger of being mesmerized. Abnormal mental action includes such conditions as delirium, hallucination, hysteria, mania and insanity. Remarks, —Some derangement of the sensorium seems to lead to all the forms of abnormal mental action. Any violent disturbance of physiological functions, such as digestion or circulation, may cause a derangement of the sensorium. Overwork, disease, etc., often lead to nervous exhaustion, to congestion or softening of the brain. These results, by reason of the intimate depend- ence of body and mind, end in some more or less vio- lent form of abnormal mental action. The hygienic, so- cial, and professional violations of our own times, and especially of our own country, together with fanaticism in religion, only too often result in forms of insanity. The teacher, the professional man, and others, have only too much to fear as to the possibilities of a future day's insan- ity. We can not be too careful of the influences that en- ter into our sensorium, especially if there lurk in our mind or body the impulses of a weak parentage. The influ- ence of parentage upon offspring may be that of heredi- tary insanity. More particularly need the women of so- ciety guard against impulsive insanity that may lead to suicide, etc. JIT- Delirium results from the effects of stimulants, narcotics, drugs, disease, and nervous shocks. D K I. I R I U M . •' 479 Delirium, — Alcoholic drinks, opium, aconite, and other drugs, irritate the nerve tissues, and, in this way, exci/e the mi?id. The thoughts flow with increased vigor, and seem to free themselves from ordinary suggestion. The feelings are emphasized into irresistible impulses, and the will loses its grasp upon the mind. All deter- minative and directive power is lost — deliriiim has come. Phantasy now chases her wild fancies through an empha- sized imagination. Images upon the ceiling, voices in the air, seem to be objective projections ; and yet they are mere hallucination. Sense- relations are overshadowed by the pressure of these imaginations and thought-rivers. Every mental product seems to be a product of sense-ap- prehension, and the person acts upon the firm belief that his thoughts are sense- apprehensions. This latter effect is an optic and auditory delusion, of mental origin under nervous irritation; but the victim does not know it, and is with difficulty persuaded afterwards that the products' of delirium were not actual experiences. The delirium of fever is a common phenomenon illustrative of all forms. Nervous shocks sometimes cause delirium. Railroad col- lisions, intense grief, proximity of danger, the sight of something dreadful, etc., may cause a nervous shock. One of the first effects of such a shock is fever and per- haps death ; but if the patient's constitution has sufficient vitality to throw off the pressure, mental recovery is as certain as physical recovery. Delirium is a transient phe- nomenon. It is true, however, that repeated attacks of delirium gradually lead to permanent insanity. The drunkard is, for this reason, likely to be the cause of his own insanity or that of his offspring. It is important to protect children from nervous shocks, because the child- mind is very susceptible. The hysteria of women, and the hallucinations of pupils improperly fed or improperly cared for, are forms of delirium. Extravagant novel 480 MANIA. reading may lead to nervous depression that affects the mind with hysteria. Overwork and want of exercise may lead to a species of hallucination familiar to brain workers. The alarming increase of insane persons, makes it important to guard watchfully against every influence that may cause delirium ; because one attack is likely to be succeeded by an other, until settled insanity broods over the mind. 318. Mania is a madness of the emotional nature. It is the prod- uct of an irresistible emotional impulse. Mania. — Sometimes persons are intellectually shrewd, possessed of acute planning power, characterized by skill in schemes and plots; but overbalanced by an emotional predominance. The predominance may be that of the whole emotional nature, or that of one or several emo- tions. In all forms of mania, the emotional impulse as- sumes sway over the voluntary nature; the will is dis- obeyed. Indeed, the maniac may revolt with horror from a deed toward which an impulse prompts him; but he seems powerless to resist. Many a pjoor wretch thus be- comes the kleptomaniac, the suicide, the assassin, the monomaniac of any itupulse. Perhaps hydrophobia is a monomania induced by nervous irritation that terrifies the imagination and leads to the terrible frenzy of the madman. While it is true that pretended mania is often made a subterfuge by criminals, it is only too true that melancholy, love, and desire, especially when ungratified, lead to mania . A large per cent, of the human race, ac- cording to the statement of specialists, are affected by some mania. It may be nothing more than oddity or idiosyncrasy of disposition. INSANITY. 481 319- Insanity is a permanent and often a violent disorder of intel- lect or feeling. Permanent Insanity, — By hereditary influences or by successive derangement of the sensorium, the human mind is often weakened, and reason dethroned. Insanity is especially characterized by loss of voluntary power. The operations of the insane mind resemble that of deliri- um. Thought and feeling may continue ; but the volun- tary throne has been vacated, and the brute passions that lie dormant even in the human breast, have assumed complete control over the conduct of the victim. We shall not try to enumerate the various causes of insanity. These causes are very man}^ Consciousness of the in- sane mind is not a consciousness of sense-relations; atten- tion has been replaced by impulse; perception still employs the sense-gateways, but the consequent suggestions are not rationally interpreted. Sense suggestions lead the in- sane man to immediate and impulsive acts. Memory, in the insane man, is perhaps first as cause and first in decay. Recollection of former experience is difiicult and often impossible. The voucher of continued personal identity is lost, and association suggests rapid transfer of thought and action. The insane imagination \sj^ terrible scourge to its victim. The furies and the fiends of imagination torment and scourge the victim with throngs of frenzied demons. Judgment and reasoning have yielded in infer- ence and conclusion to the suggestions of a depraved im- agination. The products of intuition, or Reason, are chaotic confusions: space, time, cause, identity, etc., have no accurate place in the estimations of the insane man. With the blank or wild gaze of a mind devoid of Reason, the poor victim peers through the iron gratings of his asylum. Action now is no longer rational or responsible 482 INSANITY. action. Insanity is a horrible death of living bodies ! Unless insanity is hereditar}^ it may be often warded off by heeding its first warnings. What a terrible destiny is that of insanit}^! The mind once bright with thought and warm with a happy heart- life, becomes the abode of spectres and demons; the past is distorted; the present a mockery; and the future often not much more than a hopeless blank. QT^"imcbl JV\iT\<^ Nature of This Study. — An investigation of ani- mal intelligence is confessedly difficult, because our con- clusions must be based upon uncertain data. The proper source of information in this investigation is natural his- tory. We must draw our conclusions from accurate ob- servation of the animal world, and from the testimony of naturalists. But the study is also important and interest- ing; for upon such an investigation our treatment of an- imals and our comprehension of the mission of animals de- pends. An interesting question in the study of animal mind is its difference from human mind in spite of many resemblances and approaches in result. In man and in animals there is a brain and a nervous system; but we know that in man the brain is the seat of intelligence and of physical locomotion; therefore, on the ground of the above analogy, we may, previous to investigation, infer that in animals also the brain is a seat of intklligknck. We are confirmed in this inference by a general unity of plan in all God's creations; and our inference is strength- ened by remarkable contrivances in animal economy. Animal mind differs from human mind in number of powers, perfection of function, and character of products. General Contrast. — On the ground of certain well known resemblance, we might conclude that animals had a complete soul like that of man; but such a conclusion is soon disproved by evident differences. In the first place, animals have fewer powers than man ; many of the emo- 21* 484 ANIMAL MIND. tioiial products are wanting; the will is wholl}^ absent; and attention is a mere blind impulse. In the second place, animal powers are less perfect in function. If we dare speak of an animal memory, we dare surely not pred- icate of that memory the three functions peculiar to it in human mind; and if there is an animal judgment, there surely is no abstraction, no generalization. In the third place, animals have not the power of self-consciousness : an approach to consciousness there is; but it is not self- consciousness. In consequence of this fundamental dif- ference, and in the absence of real volition, every product of animal mind differs from that of human mind in character. ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. Linguistic equivalents and physical actions of animals in- dicate some consciousness. A Species of Consciousness.— Cavefnl observers in natural history claim that animals have linguistic capacities. For illustrations they refer us to such ex- amples as birds, elephants, dogs and horses. But an in- telligence capable of language can hardly be destitute of at least an indefinite consciousness. The physical actions of such animals as the spider- monkey and the dog and the horse and the elephant surely look like intelligent actions. Every one will readily find illustrations of sa- gacity, prudence, adaptation, and shrewdness, in animals; but how can there be shrewdness and adaptation where there is no consciousness ? No Self- Consciousness, — Self- consciousness in its widest sense is a knowledge of self in action; it distin- guishes each individual ego from every other ego; it con- ANIMAL ]\I I N D . 485 tains the belief that the ego is an identical continuation through time; and it records the most lofty products of rational and moral mind. Animals lack all such con- sciousness. That animal consciousness approaches human consciousness in some details, can hardly be denied. The dog draws away his injured paw, and his eyes seem to say that he knows he has drawn away his own paw; the lion is grateful to a man who draws a splinter from his foot, and acts as if he knew it was his 02071 foot; the horse will turn his head toward his aching side as if to say that it belonged to him — was a part of an individual ego. All these actions have the mark of conscious intelligence; but they do not indicate belief in a continuation of personal identity in rational and moral agency. The distinction is an essential one. Animals accordingly lack all really rational, ethical, aesthetical and theological capacities.. The distinction is decisive in our estimation of the mis- sion and destiny of animals. A mind that has no power of self-consciousness must lack real memory, comparison, and Reason; it must lack the finer emotional capacities and free will. Animal mind is capable of impulsive attention. Impulse Instead of Attention, — Attention in human mind is a voluntary centralization of mental activity ; voluntary centralization implies deliberation, selection and resistance; but animals can not really delib- erate and properly resist an impulse. In other words, animal attention is the gratification of an irresistible im- pulse. The horse pays attention to his food onl}^ until his craving has been satisfied; the rabbit pays attention only so long as /^«r inspires an uneasiness o^ sensation; the cat watches for a mouse onl}^ until a mysterious un- 486 ANIMAIv MIND. easiness of sensation has been gratified; the serpent fixes a steady gaze upon a bird until a ravenous and carnivor- ous impulse has been gratified; and the panther in like manner waits for his pre}^ Animal perception does not result in distinct percepts. Animal Perception, — Human perception implies sense-organs, sense-contact, sensation, suggestion and a thought-percept; it leads also to mental feelings and rational volition. Animal perception never leads to dis- tinct percepts, rational reflection, and free volition. The mission of animals does not require such products. Ani- mal perception, however, results in accurate and divinely directed impulses. The accuracy of animal sensation makes it a practical law of action. With such an instinct- ive law of action entwined into the very fibers of animal organization, animal life-functions are made a ready pos- sibility and a certain execution. In animal economy accurate impulse is better than reflection and volition. This is noticed in bees, ants, Sora rails, rabbits, deer and ravens. 3^4' Animal memory continues sensations and repeats them when former associations are replaced. Animal Memory, — Human memory intellectually retains, recalls, and recognizes products of rational per- ception and intuitional conception; but animal memory does not properly retain nor recall nor recognize. Animal memory continues sensations for some time as an easiness or uneasiness of association; it repeats correctl}^ a former sensation when a former association is replaced, and thus ANIMAL MIND. 487 causes the dog and horse and elephant to act as if they had really recognized a former experience. Human memory is characterized by the power to conceive an im- age of the absent cause of a previous experience; but not even the horse or the dog is able to do this. Ani- mals do not recognize a former experience when portrayed on canvas or in a word portrait. A man remembers a hotel before he reaches it; but the horse in consequence of accurately repeated sensation only seems to have re- membered the hotel before he came to it; nor can the horse remember how often he saw the hotel. A pet dog will pine away in his sorrow for his dead master; and perhaps he will find his grave, stretch himself upon it and die; but romantic as this seems, it is only the result of a continued uneasiness of sensation, an uneasiness caused by the breaking of a pleasant association. Prompted by this uneasiness, the faithful dog found his dead mas- ter and waited upon the grave for his voice and his pet- ting. The nervous action thus continued, aifected his ap- petite and sapped his strength until the poor creature also died. The accurate repetition of animal sensations under replaced environments, together with animal judgment, will account for the remarkable feats of Professor Bar- tholomew's Equine Paradox. The horse parade, the horse cannonade, the horse school, and the horse court- room, are phenomena to be explained as accurate possi- bilities of repeated associations and immediate inference based upon present sensations. Animals have no power /or original creation of ideals. iVb Animal Imagination, — It is at least impossi- ble ever to prove that an animal has the faculty of im- agination. The horse with all his nobility never once 488 A N I M A I. MIND. looks or acts as if he had an imagination. The dog and the horse can not appreciate the products of art. The former will listen to music only because music has a sooth- ing influence on his nerves; the horse can not appreciate art in any form; can not enjoy the glories of a vSetting sun; has no idea of the aesthetic, ^ven the animal dreafu is not a conjuring up of ideal images; it is only a product of seyisation — a response of sensation. The lion will stalk with rugged boldness over the flower- covered heath, and never call up any fond image in his mind; he sees no ideal creation; he hears nothing but the voice of the senses. The wild beast of the forests may sneak about in search of something to satisfy hunger; but he does not conjure up an image of anything special to satisfy this hunger; the Oriole builds her beautiful hanging nest, but she builds it always after the original pattern. There is no animal imagination. Animal judgment conforms action to accurate sensations ; but can not perform processes of abstraction, or generalization, or classification. Animal Judgment. — Animals have a lower form of judgment or some equivalent. Direct comparison in the human mind detects agreement or disagreement. In an- imal actions, we find contrivances that indicate more than blind impulse. We have seen that animals have a con- scious mind, and it is difficult to imagine a conscious mind that has no judgment. The selection of proper trees and the formation of a chain adapted to a specific end, in the illustration of the spider monkeys, indicate some judgment; the elephant that backed into the woods to make way for a horse and rider must have had some idea of agreement; the horse that balks seems to know ANIMAL MIND, * 489 that his action ivS in disagreement with the wish of his driver; the horse that lifts his hoof to avoid stepping up- on a little child seems to know that he is doing a favor; the elephant that watches a child according to the mas- ter's direction can not be void of intelligent judgment; the Shepherd dog watching over his flocks seems to know his position and his place. Illustrations are abundant. But such judgment is based on immediate sensation; it is perhaps no more than impulse, but it seems like conscious and direct comparison. The animal judgment lacks a great deal in application; it can not be applied to things outside qf a defined animal mission; it is never based on abstraction or generaliza- tion. Animals can not think of any quality apart from an object; can not conceive oi color or sound in the abstract; can not synthesize particulars into generals; can not con- ceive of general notions except perhaps the general dis- tinctions of animal species; can not classify upon the basis of scientific distinctions. T/ie jPox". — "As'wise as a fox" is an old saying. But even the fox forms no abstract idea oi goose-flesh taste; he does not generalize from particular experiences in goose chasing; he does not classify geese on the basis of weight or color; can not tell previous to sensation whether his prey is adapted to his delicate taste. He does make se- lection; but upon the basis of appetite only. 3^7' Animals seem to lack the faculty of mediate comparison. No Animal Reasoning. — Calculation of means to a distant end is beyond animal capacity. We have seen adaptation that indicates a lower form of judgment; but, beyond a few approaches to reflection, we can find nothing in animal mind that should be dignified by the name of 490 ANIMAL MIND. reasoning. The syllogistic process is a thing unknown to animal minds. It may be asked why, if the animal has no faculty for mediate comparison, does a crow post sentinels, or the elephant fill his trunk with mud to re- pay the man that offered him a chew of tobacco, or why does the dog dig for the burrowing squirrel ? The crows post a sentinel under the pressure of impulse caused by associated sensations. These continued sensa- tions become the basis of crow-judgment. The crow's judgment conforms her actions to the sensation. The ele- phant has 2ifeeli7ig of uneasiness associated with the man that gives him the chew of tobacco. On again seeing the man, repeated association replaces a former sensation. To gratify the uneasiness of this sensation, animal judg- ment selects mud and applies it to the offender. 3218, Animals lack the faculty of intuition, or reason. No Animal Intuition, — Human Reason conceives primary ideas and primary truths pertaining to space, time, identity, cause, the aesthetic and the ethical; but animals have no such powers. Sensation, sense- appre- hension, furnishes the animal mind with the notion of a time, a space, a cause; but animals never conceive of space as infinite in extension; they never conceive of time as infinite in duration; they never conceive of causa- tion as a universal law; they never reason towards a first Great Cause — God. Animals do conform their actions to the limitations of a space; but this is a matter of s^nse-apprehension. The horse seems to know duration of a time ; but this is only the impulse of a scnsatio?i produced in the nervous system by duration of time. The dog knows a cause, and acts upon the knowledge. A dog will not lie down upon a A, N I M A I. M I N D . 49 1 hot stove, and he will know the master who whipped him; but these are the results of associated sensations and of judgment based upon present sensations. In all these things there is nothing like rational estimation of cause and effect. A cause and an effect are known only as sensations. Animals have no idea of personal identity; perhaps no idea of any identity. The dog does nothing to indicate that he at any moment considers himself a continuation of a personal ego. He may know his home and his master, and he may make distinctions; but they are the distinctions of sense-apprehension. Association with his master results in certain sensations. When the association is repeated, the sensations will make the dog act as if he knew an identical master; but really he only felt this. Animals have no aesthetic faculty. The horse and the dog and the beautiful peacock may act as if they knew their beauty and appreciated it; but their action is simply the prompting of i^istinct, simply the action of im- planted impulses. Indeed, it is difficult to see how a mind void of imagination could have aesthetic capacity. Animals never act as if they appreciated differences of taste in architecture or in environments; never enjoy the beauty of a setting sun; never rationally appreciate the sublime; never, except in a sense-way, appreciate wit and humor. Animals lack all rational moral power. The horse and the dog and other animals can be taught by association to do the appropriate, to do that which we may know to be right; but animals do not perform such ac- tion in consequence of a moral sjdlogism. Dogs do not possess the ideas of right as such, nor of obligation, nor of estimation, nor of moral freedom. Indeed, animals have no approach to such notions. By associated sensa- tions a dog may be made to act as. if. he were ashamed, as if he felt he was blamed or praised. I^et us remember, however, that while he may feel such notions, he never 492 ANIMAI, MIND. knoivs such notions by intelligence. Uneasiness or easi- ness of sensations conforms animal actions to our notions of ethical distinctions; but we can not prove that animals thus act because it is also theimo'ixon of such distinctions. The dog that was unwilling to take a bath, was made to feel Mn^2.'&y hy averted XooV.^ and coldness on the part of his mavSter; the continuance of such uneasiness together with simple detection of agreement between obedience or disobedience and his master's treatment, led the dog to- become willing to take the bath. Animals never act as if they felt remorse when they do things which we would condemn. Indeed, they violate all the commandments and never repent. Animals have an emotional nature closely corresponding to human sensibility ; but lack distinctly rational feelings. Animal Feeling. — Birds, dogs, cattle, etc., act as if they were cheerful or melancholy, sorrowful or sympa- thetic. Indeed, even the despised hog is capable of in- tense sympathy. Knjoyment of self-excellence, of wit and humor, of the new and wonderful, of the beautiful and the sublime, of satisfaction or remorse, — all these are wanting in brute instinct. Any approach to these may be readily accounted for on the basis of instinctive impulse. The AFFECTIONS of animals are remarkable. I^ove of kindred is the basis of tribal preservation in the animal world; friendship is the prompting impulse of animal as- sociation; patriotism holds animals to their home and brings them back when removed; gratitude buries even the lion's fierceness;, hatred, envy, jealousy and revenge are irresistible impulses in some animals. The affections of animals may be illustrated by reading accounts of nat- ANIMAL MIND. 493 ural history. Proper topics are: storks, ravens, cats, cows, elephants, dogs, lions, the ibis, etc. It will pay the student to study the affections of animals. Animals are capable of many desires; though not of the higher and rational desires. The desire for power among herds and flocks is indicated by leadership, but the desire is a sense impulse, an uneasiness of sensation that is intended to fill an animal mission; the desire for society is seen in the actions of horses, birds and insects. It is especially noticed in tribal arrangements. Bees, ants and wasps are subject to such impulses of desire; but it is again not the prompting of a rational mind; it is only the prompting of a mysterious impulse twined into animal organization; it is an unerring impulse which, joined to a species of judgment, directs the most remarkable con- trivances. Hope may actuate an animal mind; expecta- tion prompts the cat to watch for a mouse. Fear is per- haps the strongest impulse in animal economy. It puts animals on their guard, makes them nervously cautious, becomes an unerring guide to such animals as the rabbit and the deer and the crow. As in man, so in animals; the desires are the springs of action; animal desires are governing impulses. Jjo. Animals have no determinative and executive power. No Animal Will, — It has already been shown that attention in animals is an involuntary, undetermined, un- chosen something, a product of impulse rather than of mental 'execution. Animals have nothing like a rational will. There is no necessity for choice, or determination; because the animal impulses are divinely appointed to be accurate guides in animal functions. The strength of ani- mal desires clearly points to the absence of will. There 494 ANIMAL MIND. can be no use for a will that could not resist or refuse; but animals do not act as if they freely resisted. Tl^e heated horse will drink cold water without a thought that he might die of the effects. In this instance there is no de- liberation, no choice; but the act is one of irresistible' im- pulse. But a horse and other animals do resist the wish of men, and it is necessary to account for such resistance. A balky horse resists his driver; but not by a voluntary choice. He resists an uneasiness of sensation that angered him, and he is balky because he detects agreement between his action and his anger. COMPARISONS AND CONTRASTS WITH HUMAN MIND. THE NATURE OF BRUTK INSTINCT. If animal mind were of the same kind as human mind, ani- mals would often surpass human attainments. Discussion, — The California wood-pecker makes a far more accurate selection of winter acorns than that of the Indian; the young bird builds her nest at a very early age; the bee constructs her wonderful hexagonal cell; the hound finds his distant prey as if he knew its exact hid- ing place at any moment. If all these actions are the re- sult of a mind the same in kind as that of man; then ani- mals in these respects surpass man; for man can not at- tain an equal skill by years of study and practice. But we know that the bird, the bee, the ant, the dog, the horse, etc., can 7iot do things which require much less skill; we know that these animals can not do better after a hundred trials than at first. If such skill was the prod- uct of mind like the human mind, the skill would neces- ANIMAL, MIND. 495 sarily be the skill oi culture. Animals do not understand the utility of this skill. 332 ' If animal mind were of the same kind as human mind, its actions should be universal and subject to cultivation. Discussion, — The skill of birds and other animals in their selection of food, in nest building, in migration and in self -protection, is certainly remarkable; but if it were the skill of mind the same in kind as that of man, then animal skill should be universal in application. The skill that judges of beautiful adaptations in one case should be readily converted into other forms of activitj^- but this is never the case. A bird can build only one kind of nest, a bee constructs only one kind of cell. The judgment used in animal functions would, if applied to other de- partments, make the animal a scientific architect, a master builder; but animals never act thus. If animal mind were of the same kind as human mind, it should improve by cultivation; but animals perform these skilful functions as well when young as when old. The opossum is as shrewd in his self-preservation ; the spider is as accurate in his geometrical web; the beaver as certain in the construc- tion of his dam, when young as when old. The horse, the hog, the dog, the parrot, etc. , are capable of some culti- vation; but it is the cultivation of association. 333- If animal mind were of the same kind as human mind, it should be considered an immortal mind. Discussion, — We predicate immortality of a human mind, because the life of a human soul is based upon a conscious continuation of an identical personality^; because 496 ANIMAI. MIND. of its rational conscience and its freedom of will. In ani- mals we can not find such attributes; and according to common conviction, animals do not act as if they were immortal beings, nor do we treat them as if they were. This common conviction might be an error of intellect; but revelation confirms the conviction. If, then, we are convinced that animal mind is not immortal, we must ac- cept the conclusion that animal mind differs from human mind not only in degree, but in kind. This inference is also confirmed by the utter absence of moral and religious impulses. The little bird that raises its head as if to praise God's love, is not acting out a religious impulse. The little throat construction demands such action. Ani- mal intellligence, or brute instinct, is a combination of ac- curate sensation, and conscious judgment based upon sen- sation. PsycVbolog-ical l^ecapit-ulou-t-ioru. /. Functions. Introspection. Sense Presentation. Eetention Kecollection. Recoj^nition. Ideal Combination. Ideal Creation. Direct Comparison. Abstraction. Generalization. Classification. Mediate Comparison. Immediate Conception. Emotional Generation. Mental Determination. Mental Execution. //. Processes. III. Products. Characterizations. Self-knowledge. " Sensations and Percepts. " Retained Percepts. " Recalled Percepts. " Recognized Percepts. '' Ideal Concepts. " Ideal Concepts. " Thoughts and Truths. " Abstract Ideas. " Abst. and Con. Concepts. " Judgments. " Truths and Judgments. " Prim'y Ideas and Truths. (, Emotions, Affections, Desires. J J Choice, (T, Initial Voli- tion. t^ Final, or Executive Vo- lition. Topics for f^ecreaixoru, Mental Laws. Origins. Theories. Sources. Suggestion. Etymologies. Missions. Definitions. Mental Characteristics. Proofs. Depravities. Culture. TEST TOPICS. These test topics are based upon the text discussions and upon suggestions growing out of the text. When the student has studied the text and committed the prop- ositions and confirmed them by use of illustrations, he should test his knowledge of the lesson by answering these test questions. If any one can handle these test topics, he understands what he has studied. The psy- chological framework and the following questions enable general readers to study psychology without a teacher. INTRODUCTION. I , Empirical science distinguished from rational science. 2. The need of doubt and faith in psychologic induction. 3. Importance of mature guidance and personal reflec- tion. 4. Three- fold importance of a course in psycholo- gy. 5. Prove the existence, and explain the nature, of mind. 6. Basis of scientific classification and its neces- sity. 7. Four characteristics of a distinct, or specific fac- ulty. 8. Number and nature of the comprehensive, or grand faculties. 9. Functions and faculties of the Intel- lect illustrated. 10. Criticism on five psychological sourc- es of information. CONSCIOUSNESS. I. Characterize consciousness as a power. 2. Is con- sciousness a condition of mental illumination ? 3. Char- acterize the function of consciousness. 4. What is meant 22 500 T K S T TOPICS. by distinct and complete consciousness ? 5. Is the mind conscious of every mental act ? 6. Characterize the prod- ucts of consciousness. 7. Contrast and comparison be- tween consciousness and perception. 8. Characterize the relation of consciousness to attention. 9. What is the re- lation of sensation to consciousness ? 10. Analogy and difference between nerve-impression and mind-cognition. 11. Characterize pre-consciousness and its development. 12. Characterize and illustrate sub-consciousness. 13. Characterize and illustrate abnormal consciousness. 14. How does mania affect consciousness ? 15. Why does a nervous shock affect consciousness? 16. What are the causes and remedies of morbid consciousness? 17. Dis- tinguish between natural and reflective consciousness. 18. What can be said of philosophical consciousness? 19. Characterize the domain of coUvSciousness. 20. Illus- trate the immediate cognitions of consciousness. 21. Write an essa}^ on the nature of self-consciousness. 22. How is consciousness related to the study of pS3^chology ? 23. How and why should we cultivate consciousness ? ATTnNTION, I . How does interest differ from attention ? 2 . Explain and illustrate the values of attention. 3. Explain and illustrate automatic action. 4. Illustrate the two opera- tions under attention. 5. Distinguish sense-objects from thought-objects. 6. Show that attention has only one thought-object. 7. Explain and illustrate rapid transfer of mind. 8. Importance and means of cultivating atten- tion. PERCEPTION, I. The nature and mission of this power. 2. Prove that perception is a faculty. 3. How does the sensorium become a perceptive medium ? 4. Describe the percep- tive process. 5. Characterize each of the four perceptive links. 6. What is the relation of sense-contact to a per- cept ? 7. Define a percept and trace it to its sense- origin. 8. Show that a percept contains three cognitions. 9. Show that in a percept the mind is self-conscious. 10. TEST TOPICS. 501 Enumerate and define five conditions for perception. 11. Can there be no perception apart fi-om sense- organisms? 12. Discuss the adaptation of the senses to external ob- jects. 13. Does sense- contact always lead to a percept ? 14. What do we learn of external objects in a percept? 15. Describe how in perception we cognize externality. 16. Why is it not sufficient to know mere existence of objects? 17. Show how we learn qualities immediately and mediately. 18. How are all qualities classified ? On what bases ? 19. Derive and enumerate the qualities be- longing to each class. 20. What are the characteristics of each class of qualities ? 21. Prove the absolute impor- tance of five senses. 22. Discuss the accurate adaptation of each sense to external relations. 23. Characterize the reciprocal relation of body and mind. 24. What is the presence-chamber and the message-origin of the mind ? 25. Show how the various temperaments have a sensori- um -basis. 26. Explain the possibility of reading charac- ter in the face. '27. Characterize the dependence of con- sciousness upon sensation. 28. What is the mission of touch ? What its information ? 29. What do we know through sight ? How do we know these items ? 30. What do we know through hearing ? How do we know each item ? 31. What do we know through smelling and tasting? Importance. 32. Is this .percept knowledge always immediate ? Discuss. 33. Prove that percepts have a corrective mission. 34. Show that percept hints are not intended to deceive. 35. Can we prove sense-in- formation unreliable ? 36. Give the argument from con- tradiction. 37. Trace the mental value of percept know- ledge. T,8. Trace the practical and moral value of sense- gateways. 39. Did God mean that we should cultivate the senses ? Why ? 40. How can we cultivate the senses ? With what effects ? MEMORY. I. The psychological and practical importance of men- tal representation. 2. The three -fold character of mental representation. 3. Analogy and difference between mem- ory and imagination. 4. Prove that the mind is repro- ductive, recognitive and creative. 5. Illustrate the vol- 502 TEST Topics. iintary character of memory. 6. The number and rela- tion of the functions of memory. 7. What is meant by the chain of mental association. 8. What is the mental mission of contiguity or association ? 9. What is the nature of suggestion ? Why is it called a law ? 10. What is the relation between suggestion and contiguity ? 11. What is meant by ' ' laws of association' ' ? Criticise. 1 2. Enumerate and characterize the primary or objective re- lations of contiguity. 13. Characterize the secondary or subjective relations of contiguity. 14. What is the im- portant mission of subjective relations? 15. Enumerate these secondary or subjective relations. 16. Enumerate topics that illustrate primary and secondary relations. 17. Illustrate the wide influence of suggestion by time and place. 18. Illustrate the influence of suggestion based on resemblance and contrast. 19. Illustrate the influence of suggestion based upon cause or effect. 20. Show the value of suggestion based upon continuance of attention. 21. Picture the memory -value of suggestion based on vividness of conception. 22. Discuss the men- tal and practical value of suggestion influenced by lapse of time. 23. Illustrate the influence of suggestion based upon exclusiveness of a.ssociation. 24. Discuss the peda- gogical value of suggestion based upon frequency of repe- tition. 25. lyike what does review seem to work upon memory? 26. Why does the state of the body affect memory, and how ? 27. What has the state of mind to do with memory ? 28, Why and how does temperament affect recollection ? 29. Compare the memory- contents of several temperaments. 30. How and why does occu- pation affect memory ? Illustrate. 31. The nature and aim of voluntary retention. 32. The rapidity and suc- cess of voluntary retention. 33. The possibility and value of involuntary retention. 34. The pedagogical value of the associating effort. 35. Enumerate 10 associations to be aimed at in " committing". 36. When is retention an interesting association ? Its value. 37. When is reten- tion a continued association ? Its educational value. 38. When is retention a repeated association ? Its educa- tional value. 39. When is retention an emphatic associ- ation ? Its educational value. 41. What has nervous tension to do with retention ? Prove it. 46. What has T K vS T T O P I C vS . 503 the inter-relation of body and mind to do with retention ? 43. Temperament and occupation in committing and re- taining. 44. Effect of exclusiveneSvS of association on re- tention. 45. The aid of objective relations in voluntary retention. 46. Distinguish mechanical from logical re- tention. Criticise. 47. Enumerate and discuss the edu- cational value of mechanical retention. 48. The value and relation of logical retention to Intellect. 49. The nature, basis, and purpose of Mnemonics. Criticise. 50. The purpose of association in retention. Items of as- sociation. 51. Prove that memory retains equivalents for sensations. 52. Is memory a material receptacle ? Discuss. 53. Show the importance of retained percepts. 54. Show that memory can retain products of all mental efiforts. 55. Trace the mysterious grasp of retention be- yond the grave. 56. What makes involuntary recollec- tion possible ? Illustrate. 57. Prove that recollection is also voluntary. 58. What must be the object of search in voluntary recollection ? 59. The relations of associa- tion most important to recollection. 60. Relation of re- tention to recollection. Illustrate. 61. The memory- value of the respective sense -gateways. 62. The peda- gogical value of eye-knowledge. 63. Conditions neces- sary for readiness of recollection. 64. The pedagogical value of voluntary exercise in recalling. * 65. Conditions necessary for accurate and complete recollection. 66. Mechanical retention in its relation to recollection. 67. Account for the vividness of "description from memory. 68. The universal usefulness of description from memory. 69. Descriptive power of Niebuhr, ora- tors, novelists. 70. Disease, injury, and age affect the memory. Explain. 71. Recollection of forgotten knowl- edge explained. 72. The memor}^ of insanity and ner- vous exhaustion. 73. Explain the inaccuracy and incom- pleteness of memory in old age. 74. Interest and repe- tition in the memory of professional men. 75. The rela- tion of a good memory to a superior mental capacity. 76. The nature of recognition and its vSubjective element illustrated. 77. The ultimate character of recognition, whether complete or incomplete. 78. The proper ante- cedents of accurate and complete recognition. 79. Recog- nition a requisite of rational mind. 80. Show that recog- 504 T K S T 1* O P I C S . niti on saves from isolation. 81. Recognition a requisite in human affairs. 82. Recognition the voucher of per- sonal continuation. 83. Recognition in old age and be- yond the grave. 84. Recognition and life's sorrows. 85. Deduce and enumerate the qualities of memory. 86. Characterize the various kinds of memory. 87. Re- markable culture of memory possible. Illustrations. 88. Methods of culture, and native differences. 89. Enumer- ate the functions and products of memory. IMAGINATION. I. Analogy and difference between imagination and memory. 2. The argument that imagination is a distinct power. 3. The suggestive value of percepts, etc., to ideal creations. 4. Memory is a suggestive source of inspira- tion to imagination. 5. The regulative presence of judg- ment in ideal creations. 6. The refinings of taste in the creations of imagination. 7. The association and rela- tion of reasoning and imagination. 8. Intuition limits and modifies the products of imagination. 9. Essential distinctness of imagination as a power. 10. Suggestion is the primary law of imagination. 1 1 . Sensations and percepts as items in ideal creations. 12. The paint- er and the musician's suggestive sources. 13. Touch, flavor and fragrance are suggestions for imagination; 14. The transcripts of memory distinguished from ideal combinatiotis. 15. The character and products of voluntary imagination. 16. Voluntary imagination in the domains of art. 17. Pen pictures of reverie and in- voluntary imagination. 18. Productive imagination dis- tinguished from reproductive imagination. 19. Is it proper to speak of a passive imagination ? 20. Enumer- ate the products of high art prompted by imagination. 2 1 . Account for personal differences in imaginative capac- ity. 22. Imagination in the scientist and in the inventor. 23. The distinctive features of so-called philosophical im- agination. 24. Ideal combinations are products of ideal modification. 25. Transformation of old material, size, shape, color, position. 26. Ideal creations are original products prompted by suggestion. 27. Distinguish ideal objects from idealized objects. 28. Pen-pictures of ideal T K S T T O r I O S . 505 forms, ideal events, ideal characters. 29. The products of imagination differ in loftiness and purit}' of character. 30. What is meant by the sensible drapery of ideal prod- ucts ? 31. The laws of limitation for ideal products. 32. The idea of space in ideal products; of time. 33. The limitation of essential properties of matter in ideal prod- ucts. 34. Imagination limited by the spheres and ac- tivity of mind. 35. Illustrate the elevating mission of imagination in life. 36. Imagination in oratory, paint- ing, sculpture, etc. 37. The pedagogical value of an ac- tive imagination. 38. Imagination in poetry, fiction, architecture. 39. Music inspired 1)}^ a lively imagination. 40. Kulogize the mission of a healtliy imagination. 41. The mission of imagination in ideal aims and personal dCvStiny. 42. Child-life and youth in active ideal efforts. 43. The hideous spell of a depraved imagination. 44. Transforming power of an unhealthy imagination. 45. Ghosts, fright, novels, drama, delirium, etc. 46. Fanati- cism, superstition, despair, exhaustion, exaggeration. 47. Cautions with regard to cultivating imagination. 48. The teacher's dut}^ to cultivate the pupil's imagina- tion. 49. The book of nature and the books of art. 50. An illustration of ideal creation : stud}- it. 51. Make a full synopsis of the imagination. THB UNDERSTANDING. I. Distinguish the thought-nature from other faculties. 2. Whence come the materials of the understanding ? What are its products ? 3. The functions of the under- standing are preparatory and ultimate. 4. What is an- alysis ? Synthesis? Their relation? Illustrate. 5. Enumerate the five functions of the understanding. 6. Define comparison and mediate comparison. DIRECT COMPARISON. 7. The basis of direct comparison, and its early devel- opment. 8. The basis of mediate comparison, and its distinct feature. 9. The analogy and difference between direct and mediate comparison. 10. What are the deci- sive functions of the understanding? 11. How many 5o6 TEvST TOPICS. faculties in the understanding ? Why ? 12. Enumer- ate 'four functions intimatel}^ related. 13. Why are direct comparison and mediate comparison referred to two fac- ulties ? 14. Does reasoning involve judgment ? Is the reverse true ? 15. ^numerate the two distinct faculties of thought. 16. What are the functions of judgment ? What is implied ? 17. Show that direct comparison is an active and voluntary function. 18. To what extent is abstraction voluntary ? Illustrate. 19. To what extent is generalization voluntary ? Illustrate. 20. To what extent is classification voluntary ? Illustrate. 21. What is direct comparison ? Its design? Illustrate. 22. Show that direct comparison is a preparation for mechanical classification. 23. Show that necessary proximity makes direct comparison a synthetic process. 24. Illustrate proximity and sjaithesis in various direct comparisons. 25. Show that direct comparison is the initial basis of thought and language. 26. Illustrate the process of di- rect comparison in forming thoughts. 27. Show that direct comparison is a necessary function for reasoning. ABSTRACTION. 28. Show that abstraction is an analytic process. 29. Show the difference between percept- color and abstract- color. 30. Show the difference between a memory -color, and the abstract color. 3 1 . Show how a pure abstract is an absolutely particular idea. 32. Describe and illustrate the process of abstraction. 33. What is the origin of a pure abstract ? Define a pure abstract. 34. Show how all pure abstracts become more and more general. 35. Prove that all pure abstracts are particular only in their origin. 36. When is an abstract real ? When is it ideal ? Illustrate. 37. Divscuss the distinction between a pure ab- stract and an abstract concept. 38. Why is an abstract concept called abstract ? Why called a concept ? Illus- trate. 39. Show that all abstract concepts originate from pure abstracts. 40. Do we acquire pure abstracts con- sciously? Voluntaril)^ ? Illustrate. 41. Do any pure abvStracts remain absolutel}^ particular ? Illustrate. 42. How do we obtain a pure abstract ? Name the process. 43. How are abstraction and generalization related ? 44. T K S T TOPICS. 507 Show how synthesis at once follows abstraction. 45. Does direct comparison always precede abstraction ? 46. What pure abstracts can you enumerate ? GENERALIZATION. 47. What is generalization ? What are its materials ? Its products ? 48. Illustrate the synthesis of shades and degrees in general concepts. 49. Enumerate several con- tents of the abstract concept hardness. 50. Show that generalization is a better basis for classification. 51. Name two products of generalization. Illustrate both. 52. Compare the contents of an abstract concept with those of a concrete concept. 53. What is an abstract concept ? Illustrate with color. 54. Distinguish lower from higher generalizations. Illustrate. 55. How do we obtain an abstract concept ? Illustrate. 56. Show how the abstract concept color was formed. 57. Illus- trate the results of lower and of higher generalizations. 58. Define a concrete concept. Is it a particular notion ? 59. Show that a thought-pear is a concrete concept. 60. Why are our notions of things called concrete concepts ? Illustrate. 61. How do we obtain a concrete concept? Illustrate. 62. Show that a concrete concept represents properties common to a class. 63. Name many concrete concepts. Their wide content. 64. What is meant by the content of a general concept? 65. Are abstract con- cepts and concrete concepts always images ? 66. What is meant by the extent of a concrete concept ? 67. Has an abstract concept extent ? Illustrate. 68. Enumerate many concrete concepts. 69. Show that general concepts are the bases of scientific classification. 70. Show that general concepts are the basis of our language. 71. When is generalization formal ? When informal ? Il- lustrate. CLASSIFICATION. 72. Show the relation between classification and gener- alization. 73. Distinguish mechanical from scientific classification. 74. What may be the basis of classifica- tion ? Illustrate. 75. What is the history of successive generalizations? Illustrate. 76. What distinguishes 22* 5o8 T IC S T TOPICS. earlier from later scientific products? 77. Characterize youthful and manly classifications. 78. What is the or- der of succession for abstraction, generalization, etc ? 79. Knumerate reasons why judgment, etc., should be culti- vated. 80. Give the outline for culture of the functions of judgment. 81. Illustrate the cultivation of abstrac- tion and generalization. 82. Illustrate the cultivation of direct comparison and classification. 83. Show the prac- tical importance of such culture. 84. What are the teach- er's responsibilities in this culture ? REASONING. I. Enumerate distinctions between reasoning and judg- ment. 2. Show that reasoning is an active and voluntary power. 3. Is reasoning always voluntary ? Discuss and illustrate. 4. Show how relations lie at the basis of medi- ate comparison. 5. Show how resemblance and contrast are the main relations. 6. What is a syllogism, and what is its construction ? Illustrate. 7. What is a judgment ? A proposition ? What are terms ? 111. 8. What is an enthy- meme ? Is the syllogism necessary in reasoning ? 9. How many propositions in a syllogism ? How many terms ? 10. What is the middle term ? The minor term ? The major term ? 11. What is the mission of the copula of a syllo- gism ? Illustrate. 12. What is meant by the quality and the quantity of propositions? Illustrate. 13. Enumer- ate, illustrate and explain the four kinds of propositions. 14. What is meant by the opposition of propositions ? 15. Illustrate and explain propositions A, E, I, at^d O. 16. Commit and apply the formula of opposition. 17. Com- mit and illustrate the laws of opposition. 18. Commit and explain the laws of the vSyllogism. 19. Illustrate and discuss each law of the syllogism. 20. Upon what laws does the validity of a syllogism depend ? Illustrate. 21. Explain the law of identity and the law of contradiction. 22. Explain and illustrate the law of excluded middle. 23. Explain and illustrate the law of cause and effect. 24. Explain and illustrate deductive and inductive syllo- gisms. 25. Why is a deductive syllogism valid ? An in- ductive syllogism ? 26. Explain and illustrate analytic and synthetic syllogisms. 27. What is meant by the or- der of premises in a syllogism ? Illustrate. 28. How r }') S T TOPIC s . 509 can we know the major premivSe ? The minor premise ? 29. What is a completed sjdlogism ? An enthymeme ? Illustrate. 30. How can an enthymeme be completed ? Illustrate. 31. Illustrate and explain categorical and hy- pothetical syllogisms. 32. Illustrate pure and modal syl- logisms. 33. What is meant by the figure of a syllogism ? Illustrate. 34. Illustrate and explain the first figure; the second; the third; etc. 35. Illustrate and explain the un- figured syllogism. 36. What is meant by the moods of a figure? Illustrate. 37. State and test the valid moods of figured syllogisms. 38. What is the value of each figure ? 39. What is meant by conversion of syllogisms ? 40. What are sorites ? What sorites are historical ? Illus- trate both. 41. Anal3^ze sorites into pro-syllogisms and epi-sjdlogi.sms. 42. Is the syllogism unnecessary in some reasoning ? Illustrate. 43. What is meant by uniformit}^ of nature ? How UvSeful in reasoning ? 44. Account for the origin and validity of major premises. Illustrate. 45. Prove the reasonableness of our belief in nature's uniform- ity ? 46. Why did God implant belief in nature's uni- formity ? 47. What may make a major premise invalid ? Induction ? 48. What is meant by fair representation ? Illustrate fully. 49. What have nature's uniformity and fair representation to do with valid conclusions? 50. When are conclusions true ? When false ? Enumerate cautions. 51. Illustrate the syllogistic effect of a false premise. Discuss. 52. Why is master}^ of the sjdlogism and its laws quite important ? Illustrate. 53. By what kind of syllogisms is all knowledge developed ? Illus- trate. 54. Upon what is induction based ? Deduction ? Enumerate relations. 55. What is an absolute relation ? A dependent relation ? How determined ? 56. Distin- guish the domain of induction from that of deduction. 57. What is meant by relations ? Enumerate and discuss illustrations. 58. Write syllogisms based on various re- lations and explain their force. 59. Define, illustrate, and discuss necessar}' truths. 60. Define, illustrate, and dis- cuss contingent truths. 61. Enumerate manj- necessarj^ truths and many contingent truths. 62. Show that per- ception and intuition are the sources of material for de- duction. 63. Show that deduction is analytic. Show that it is demonstrative. 64. What is the nature of intu- 5IO tp:s t to p iCvS . itive truths? Illustrate from Geometry. 65. Show that the ideas and truths of intuition are abstract and general. 66. Name several abstract sciences. Does perception as- sist these ? 67. What is it to " un-sense" the mind ? Il- lustrate. 68. Illustrate the construction of deductive sjd- logisms out of necessary truths. 69. Prove that a straight line is the shortest distance, etc. 70. Illustrate the force of a deductive syllogism. 7 1 . Show that a deductive con- clusion is rather demonstrative than cumulative. 72. If a syllogism is theoretically irresistible, is it also practical- ly so ? Illustrate. 73. What allowances must be made for conclusions of deduction ? Illustrate. 74. To what sciences has deduction given origin and shape ? Illus- trate. 75. Illustrate and discuss the practical value of rational sciences. 76. Show that induction is based upon materials of perception. 77. Illustrate and test the prem- ises of induction. 78. Show that the inductive syllogism is rather cumulative than demonstrative. 79. Show that induction is a cumulative synthesis. 80. Illustrate the cumulative synthesis of induction. 81. What is the do- main of induction ? Its boundary line ? 82. Enumerate practical domains of induction, and discuss. 83. Is the conclusion of induction a ' ' moral certainty' ' or a " moral necessity" ? 84. Illustrate the difference between moral certainty and moral necessity. 85. What are some empir- ical sciences? Why are they so called ? 86. Show that induction is useful in practical life. 87. Enumerate ten distinctions between induction and deduction. 88. Upon what four things does the evidence of contingent truths depend ? 89. What is meant by experimental induction ? Illustrate. 90. What is meant by observation ? By ex- periment ? Illustrate. 91. Enumerate things that make observation unreliable. What has culture or genius to do with successful experiment ? 93. Show that nature's uni- formity is reliable under like circumstances. 94. Enu- merate spheres in which experimental correction is neces- sary. 95. Illustrate false conclusions of incomprehensive induction. 96. In what spheres of life are inductive con- clusions unreliable ? 97. Characterize the conclusions of the physical sciences. 98. What things will make ex- perimental induction safe in Psychology, etc. ? 99. What is testimonv ? What does it include ? Define each. T i^: s T T o p r c s . 511 100. What things do we know from traditional testimony ? loi. What things do we know from historical testimony ? 102. What is the mission of legal evidence as testimony ? 103. Illustrate the necessity of testimony in practical af- fairs. 104. Show that it is natural to believe in testi- mony. 105. What 3 reasons make belief in testimony reasonable? 106. Enumerate the deceptions of tradition, history and evidence. 107. Upon what two items does the credibility of testimonj^ depend ? 108. Illustrate how an observer or a witness may be self- deceived, 109. Show how the credibility of testimony depends upon the witness, no. Show that testimony dare not violate the laws of thought, in. Enumerate ten marks of reliable testimony. 112. Why should an intelligent man know the marks of testimony ? 113. Illustrate the desirability of many witnesses. 114. Illustrate and discuss the desir- ability of competent witnesses. 115. What kind of men can not give reliable testimony? 116. Illustrate the de- sirability of reputation for truthfulness. 117. Why should witnesses be of diverse vocations ? Illustrate. 118. Enumerate many violations of diverse vocations. 119. What is the force of evidence based upon diverse in- terests? 120. Explain how diverse modes of life prevent conspiracy in evidence. 121. What is the value of com- munity^ or tribe in testimony? Illustrate. 122. What have age and epoch to do with testimony ? Illustrate. 123. What has diversity of education to do with legal evidence ? 1 24. Is testimony always dependent upon di- verse educations? 125. Enumerate environments that affect testimony. 126. Enumerate illustrations of the ef- fects of reputation in testimony. 127. Can reliable testi- mony never come from bad character? Illustrate. 128. What has absence of contrary motive to do with good testimony? IllUvStrate. 129. How is concurrence op- posed to collusion in testimony ? Illustrate. 130. Give four or five reasons for mastering the marks of testimony. 131. Enumerate four degrees of force in conclusions from testimony. 132. When does a conclusion from testimony amount to suspicion ? 1 33. Illustrate the merely probable conclusion of testimony. 134. Enumerate illustrations of practical certainty in testimony. 135. Enumerate and discuss illustrations of logically certain testimony. 136. 512 T K S T T O P I C S . What is meant by analogy? Discuss four illustrations. X37. Illustrate the difference between inductions from analogy and from experience. 138. Discuss the points of distinction in the above cases. 139. Who in practical life make use of analogy ? Illustrate. 140. Commit and discuss the law of analogy. Applications. 141. Illustrate the value of a conclusion from analogy. 142. Form and discuss syllogisms based upon analogy. 143. Discuss illustrations of misleading analogy. 144. Discuss illustrations of counter-analogies. 145. Enu- merate illustrations of the value of analogy for de- fense. 146. Is a conclusion from analogy ever irresisti- ble ? Illustrate. 147. Discuss illustrations of analogy as an aid to experiment. 148. Define hypothesis, and account for its use. 149. Discuss the mission of hypothe- ses in life. 150. Define and illustrate a theory. How framed? 151. Enumerate historical hypotheses and speak of them. 152. How do hypotheses originate? Enumerate illustrations. 153. Discuss enumerated illus- trations of testing hypotheses. 154. What is meant by the verefication or rejection of hypotheses? 155. Does a theory ever become an absolute truth ? Illustrate. 156. Enumerate verified historical hypotheses. 157. Enumerate rejected historical hypotheses. Remarks. 158. Discu.ss enumerated illustrations of valuable rejected hypotheses. 159. Define and illustrate a theor^^ ? What may it become? 160. How do we distinguish a theorj^ from hypothesis? Illustrate. 161. Enumerate many practical divStinctions thus found. 162. Discuss the value and methods of cultivating induction. 163. Enumerate methods of culture for inductive reasoning. 164. The nature and methods of cultivating deduction. 165. Dis- cuss the points enumerated for deductive culture. INTUITION. I. Perception can not furnish certain ideas and truths. 2. Define intuition, and tell how perception is related to it. 3. What is meant by an occasion in distinction from a cause ? 4. Discuss accurately the ' ' kernel' ' illustration of occasion and cause. 5. Discuss the illustrations of the powder-mill and Mr. I^. 6. Show that perception is the T ]-:s'r TO p I CvS . 513 occasion of an active intuition. 7. Prove from conscious- ness, conduct, etc., the existence of primary ideas. 8. Show that all men act and think as if they knew primary ideas. 9. Show that primary ideas are fundamental and presupposed. 10. Prove that no faculty but intuition furnishes primary ideas. 11. Describe the origin of in- tuitive ideas under sense- occasions. 12. Show that in- tuition is not presentative, not representative, etc. 13. Show that the child wakes up with the capacity of intui- tion. 14. Show that primary products are immediate and sub- conscious. 15. Show that intuition becomes active under sense-occasions. 16. Show that suggestion is uni- versal and passive. 17. What is the exact relation of suggestion to intuition? Illustrate. 18. Explain why the origin of intuitive ideas is sub-conscious. 19. Prove logically that intuition can not be wholly involuntary. 20. Show that intuition, or Reason, distinguishes man from brutes. 21. Explain the logical and chronological relations of intuition. 22. Describe the simultaneous ac- tivity of perception and intuition. 23. Characterize and illustrate the distinct products of this simultaneous activi- ty. 24. Why can we not recall the exact time of the ori- gin of primary ideas? 25. Illustrate the simultaneous activity of perception and intuition. 26. Prove that in- tuition is fundamental to memory. 27. Prove that intui- tion is fundamental to imagination. 28. Prove that in- tuition is fundamental to direct comparison. 29. Prove that intuition is fundamental to generalization. 30. Prove that intuition is fundamental to reasoning. 31. What is an idea? A primary idea? 32. What is a thought? A truth? Several sources? 33. What is a primary truth ? Illustrate primary truths. 34. Enumer- ate twelve primary ideas. 35. Show by analysis and an- alogy the chronological relation of ideas and truths. 36. Do writers admit the existence of primary truths ? Names given ? 37. Show that primar)^ ideas are not derived from sense. 38. Show that judgment can not furnish self-evi- dent truths. 39. Show that self-evident truths are funda- mental to reasoning. 40. Enumerate four tests for pri- mary truths. 41. Discuss the application of the test of self-evidence. 42. Discuss the applications of the test of necessit3^ 43. Discuss the applications of the test of 514 TKS T T OPICS. simplicity. 44. Discuss the applications of the test of universality. 45. Enumerate historical admissions that there are primary truths. 46. Enumerate primary truths based upon six primary ideas. 47. Show how primary truths are related to the sciences. 48. Discuss the general classification of primary ideas. 49. Give a summary of proofs of the existence of primary truths. SPACE. 50. Define space, and develop the items of this defini- tion. 51. Prove that space is not matter nor spirit. 52. Prove that space is not an idea or a figment of fancy. 53. Show that the idea of space can not originate from ab- straction. 54. Show that the idea of space can not orig- inate from generalization. 55. Why can the idea of space not originate from comparisons ? 56. Describe how per- ceived extension becomes a suggestion of the idea of space. 57. When and how does intuition conceive the idea of space? 111. 58. Show that the idea of space could not originate apart from sense suggestion. 59. What is the producing power that conceives the idea of space ? 60. Could there be space, even if no mind conceived the idea of space? 61. What truths, or axioms are ba^ed upon the attributes of space? 62. Enumerate 5 attributes of space, and discuss their relation. 63. Enumerate geomet- rical axioms, and make remarks on geometry. 64. Is the study of geometry a mental discipline ? Illustrate. 65. Is skill in geometry a test of practical judgment, etc. ? TIME. . 66. Define time and develop the items of the definition. 67. Tell just why it is difficult to define time. 68. Prove that time is rather an objective reality than a mere idea. 69. Prove that time is not the mental effect of the rela- tion of thoughts. 70. Show that time still continues even when thoughts have ceased. 71. What is the relation of succession of events to time ? 72. Why may we speak of a somewhere in time ? Illustrate. 73. Enumerate items that occupy time. Develop each item. 74. Show that T K vS T T O P I C S . 51 5 the idea of time is not a direct percept. 75. Prove that the idea of time was never a pure abstract. 76. Prove that the idea of time does not result from ordinary syn- thesis. 77. Describe the instantaneous and sub-conscious origin of the idea of time. 78. Show how succession of earliest thoughts suggested the idea of time. 79. De- scribe how intuition caught the suggestion of protended events. 80. Describe how intuition caught the sugges- tion of protended thoughts. 8 1 . Discuss the necessity of suggestion to the idea of time. 82. Sum up the discus- sion on the intuitive origin of the idea of time. 83. Why can children not accuratel}' estimate the amount of time ? 84. Describe and apply the gradually lengthening stand- ard of measure. 85. How does .sleep affect our estimate of time passed through ? 86. Why do dreams seem to occupy so much time ? 87. How do time-pieces aid our estimates of time passed through ? 88. Enumerate items that cause us to lose our place in time. 89. Discuss the importance of knowing our somewhere in time. 90. What axioms are based upon the attributes of time ? 91. Enumerate and discuss 4 attributes of time. 92. Discuss the practical applications of the attributes of time. IDENTITY. 93. Define identity and explain the items of this def- inition. 94. What is the question of identity ? Illus- trate. 95. Show how the idea of identity is opposed to that of plurality. 96. Prove that identity is not mere re- semblance. Illustrate. 97. Prove that identity does not consist in sameness of chemical composition. 98. Enu- merate and discuss illustration.^ of the above distinction. 99. What is meant by complete identity ? Incomplete identity? IllUvStrate. 100. Enumerate 4 kinds of iden- tity, and tell why .so called. 10 1. What is absolute iden- tit}^ ? Enumerate and divScu.ss illustrations. 102. What is personal identit}^ ? Enumerate and discu.ss essential elements. 103. Prove that personal identity is histori- cally and eternally necessary. 104. What is identity of organic identity ? Enumerate and discuss essential ele- ments. 105. Prove that organic identity is an organic neces.sity. 106. Illustrate the identity of animals and 5l6 TKST TOPICS. plants. 107. Trace the universal and practical impor- tance of organic identity. 108. What is identity of in- organic matter ? Enumerate and discuss essential ele- ments. 109. Give a summary -enumeration of all kinds of identity, no. Show that identity is an objective real- ity. Illustrate, in. Show that the idea of identity never was a pure abstract. 112. Can the idea of identity originate from generalization? Explain. 113. Discuss the illustrations of the origin of the idea of identity. 114. Show how comparison becomes a suggestion for the idea of identity. 115. Enumerate and apply 4 steps in the origin of the idea of identity. 116. What is the axact re- lation of comparison and intuition? Illustrate. 117. What has consciousness to do with the origin of this idea? 118. Discuss illustrations to prove that coiisciousness is not identity. 119. Show that not consciousness, but recognition is the evidence of identity. What has identi- ty to do with recognition and retribution ? 121. Analyze illustrations of mistaken identity. 122. Show that iden- tity is the basis of confidence. 123. Show that identity is the basis of progress and improvement. 124. Show that recognition presupposes identity. 125. Sum up the practical values of detected identity. 126. What has identity to do with ' ' morgues' ' , " prodigals' ' , " heaven' ' ? 127. What has identity to do with all retribution ? 128. How is detected identity related to justice ? Illustrate. 129. The relation of preserved identity to propagation of species. 130. What has identity to do with Darwinian- ism ? CAUSE. 131. Define a cause, and discuss this definition. 132. What is the significance of the word phenomenon ? Illus- trate. 133. Are phenomena regarded as causes or as ef- fects? 134. What is the fixed relation of cause and ef- fect ? Illustrate. 135. Illustrate and prove that mere antecedence is not cause. 136. What is meant by an ef- fective antecedent? An agent ? 137. Of what may we speak as causes? As ultimate causes? 138. Illustrate causes in various domains of life. 139. What is the re- lation of an occasion to a cause? Give illustration. 140. T K vS T T O P I C vS . 517 Aristotle's classification of causes. Illustrations analyzed. 141. What were the causes of creation? Discuss. 142. Show how vicinity of antecedence and subsequence sug- gests cause. 143. Early and sub-conscious origin of the idea of cause. 144. Illustrate and discuss the effect of mental vicinity upon intuition. 145. Enumerate early conformations of conduct to the idea of cause. 146. Prove the early origin of the notion of universal causation. 147. Could the notion of universal causation be derived from induction? 148. Prove that we can not get rid of the notion of cause. 149. Prove that the law of causation is an inevitable law. 150. Prove that universal causation is a fundamental belief. 151. What sciences are the prod- uct of search after causes ? 152. Can we intelligently in- terpret history apart from causation ? 153. What has the notion of causation to do with practical life ? THE AESTHETIC. 154. Reasons for a three-fold classification of the Aes- thetic. THE BEAUTIFUL. 155. What items make it difficult to comprehend the Beautiful? 156. Characterize briefly three kinds of the- ories as to the beautiful. 157. Enumerate presumptions against subjective and objective theories. 158. Presump- tions in favoi*of the spiritual theory. 159. Enumerate the principal subjective theories. 160. General preface upon these subjective theories. 161. Statement and refu- tation of the emotion theory. 162. Statement and refu- tation of the association theory. 163. Analyze many common-sense experiences. 164. Statement and refuta- tion of the reflection theory. 165. Show that the reflec- tion theory is ludicrous and contradictory. 166. Show that the reflection theory is a violation of common sense. 167. Analyze several illustrations to prove the theory un- satisfactory. 168. Statenient and refutation of the obser- vation theory. 169. Prove the observation theory to be unsatisfactory and contradictory. 170. Enumerate 4 ob- jective theories of the beautiful. 171. General remarks on 5l8 TEST TOPICS. these objective theories. 172. Explain how the object- ive theories lead to the spiritual theory. 173. State- ment and refutation of the novelty theory, 174. An- alyze many illustrations to prove the novelty theory false. 175. Prove the novelty theory to be unsatisfactory and contradictor}^ 176. Statement and refutation of the utility theory. 177. Analyze many illustrations to prove the novelty theory contradictory, etc. 178. Do we call a thing beautiful after we see its usefulness? 179. Dis- tinguish the mental effects of the beautiful and of the use- ful. 1 80. Statement and refutation of the order and pro- portion theory. 181. Relation of the order and propor- tion theory to the spiritual theory. 182. Statement and refutation of the unity and variety theory. 183. Analyze many illustrations to prove the inadequacy of this theory. 184. What are the elements of truth in the unity and variety theory? 185. State the spiritual theory of the beautiful. 186. Analyze many illustrations to show the nature and expressions of the beautiful. 187. General remarks on the spiritual theory. 188. Application of the spiritual theory to inorganic things. 189. Application of the spiritual theory to organic things. 190. Application of the spiritual theory to animals. 191. Application of the spiritual theory to human beings. 192. Show that Art confesses degeneracy of human beauty. 193. Appli- cation of the spiritual theory to the fine arts. THE SUBIvIME. 194. Define the sublime and discuss its nature. 195. Enumerate the expressive mediums of the sublime. 196. What are the effects of the sublime upon us ? 197. An- alj^ze illustrations of the expressions of the sublime. 198. Portray sublime situations based upon 6 expressive mediums. THE I.UDICROUS. 199. What are wit and humor? What is meant by the ludicrous ? 200. What seems to be the element of the ludi- crous? 201. Analyze illustrations of the ludicrous. 202. TKvS T TO PI CS . 519 How does the ludicrous manifest itself? Illustrate. 203. What are the effects of the ludicrous upon man ? ORIGIN OF THE AESTHETIC IDEAS. 204. Discuss the early origin of the aesthetic ideas. 205. Analyze illustrations of early perception of aesthetic things. 206. The intuitive idea of the aesthetic and sense- suggestion. 207. Trace the development of the aesthetic idea as a standard. 208. When does the intui- tive idea become the standard of mature taste? 209. De- fine taste, and state its functional process. 210. What is the relation of emotion to the activity of taste ? 211. Show that taste is a direct comparison based on an intui- tive standard. 212. Analyze illustrations of the opera- tions of taste. 213. Illustrate and characterize good taste and poor taste. 214. If there is a standard of taste, account for personal variance. 215. Are not some things universally called beautiful, etc.? 216. A summary of mental progression in the presence of the aesthetic. 217. The importance of cultivating our taste. 218. Enumera- tion of methods for cultivating taste. 219. The pedagogi- cal value of aesthetic influences. 220. The teacher's duty in aesthetic matters. 221. Is it God's wish that we should cultivate taste ? THE MORAL. 222. What is meant by the word moral ? Its threefold nature. 223. Efforts to explain the moral, and the neces- sity of accuracy. 224. Why is it of vital importance to know a correct explanation? 225. Enumerate four tests of moral theories. 226, What is meant by the conduct-test ? Develop. 227. What is the consciousness-test ? Why is it valuable ? 228. Enumerate two laws of thought, and apply to the moral. 229. What is meant b}^ the test of psychologic precedence ? 230. Develop the statement of psychologic precedence. 231. Enumerate four defective theories of right and wrong. 232. Statement and refuta- tion of the highest happiness theory. 233. Apply the 4 enumerated tests to concrete illustrations. 234. State- ment and refutation of the utility theory of right. 235. 520 TKvST TOPICS. Apply the 4 enumerated tests to concrete illustrations. 236. Statement and refutation of the legal enactment theory. 237. Apply the 4 enumerated tests to concrete illustrations. 238. What would be the practical results of the legal enactment theory ? 239. State fully and clearly the nature of things theory. 240, Apply the common sense test to this theory. 241. State the correct theory of right and wrong. 242, Develop at length the correct theory of the moral, 243. Apply the 4 enumer- ated tests to the correct theory. 244. Where is the cor- rect theorj^ written for men ? 245. What are the practi- cal effects of the correct theory ? 246. Show that the moral is not a figment of fancy. 247. Show that the cor- rect theory accords with revelation. ORIGIN OF THE MORAI^ IDEAS. 248. Enumerate six defective theories of moral ideas. 249. Statement and refutation of the education theory. 250. Analyze many concrete illustrations. 251. State- ment and refutation of the association theory. 252. State- ment and refutation of the imitation theory. 253. Apply the 4 enumerated tests to the imitation theory. 254. Statement and refutation of the legal enactment theory. 255. Statement and refutation of the moral sense theory. 256. Statement and refutation of the sympathy theory. 257. Apply the 4 enumerated tests to this theory. 258. True theory of the origin of the idea of right and wrong. 259. Show that the moral idea is not of sense-origin. 260. Prove that the moral idea is a connate, primary prod- uct. 261. Analyze illustrations, and apply the tests for primary truths. 262. Prove the existence of a moral nature. 263. Analyze enumerated proofs of the existence of conscience. 264. Enumerate important questions as to conscience. 265. Define conscience and characterize its function. 266. Develop the threefold function of conscience. 267. Analyze a concrete illustration of moral tribunal activity. 268. Discuss the intuitive standards of moral comparisons. 269. Detect direct comparison, intuition, and emotion in conscience-activity. 270. Mas- ter the mental formula of moral experience. 271. When is the authority of conscience final ? 272. What have TEST TOPICS. 521 sanity and mature intelligence to do with conscience ? 273. Analyze many illustrations of the above. 274. What culture of the intuitive cognitions of right is necessary? 275. Discuss the importance of moral cult- ure. 276. Analyze many illustrations of neglected cult- ure. 277. What is the value of the Bible to conscience ? 278. What has thorough enlightenment to do with con- science ? 279. How shall we obtain full information for conscience ? 280. Analyze many illustrations of diverse moral decisions. 281. Enumerate items that modify de- cisions of conscience. 282. What has freedom from wrong motives to do with conscience ? 283. Illustrate the mor- al effects of prejudice. 284. Illustrate the moral effects of self-interest. 285. Illustrate the moral effects of pas- sion. 286. Conscience and our personal relation to an act of life. 287. When may conscience err? May the Christian err? 288. What is to be done when there are conflicting motives ? 289. Enumerate items that may constitute conflicting motives. 290. Enumerate items that may lead to conscientious bigotry. 291. Enumerate items with reference to which bigotry often decides. 292. The conscience that is like a good but mistaken watch. 293. Enumerate persons who mistake ' like' ' for ' 'ought' ' . 294. Describe the wretched condition of those deluded by **like". 295. Describe the torments of an awakened con- science. 296. Can we prove that any faculty is given to deceive us ? 297. Prove that conscience is an adequate earthly guide. 298. Under what neglects will conscience become untrustworthy ? 299. In what respects do we find diversity of conscience ? 300. What effect have cult- ure and information on conscience ? 301. Analyze illus- trations of developed consciences. 302. Distinguish ab- solute right from relative right. 111. 303. Is it ever true that "the end justifies the means" ? 111. 304. What has intention to do with relative right ? 111. 305. What is a feeble or timid conscience ? 111. 306. What may be causes of unhealthy consciences? 307. How may the feeble conscience be strengthened ? 308. What is a bleared or a reckless conscience ? 111. 309. What things lead to a bleared or a reckless conscience ? 310. How may the bleared or reckless conscience be cured? 311. What is meant by practical ethics ? Axioms ? 312. What 522 TEST TOPICS. are man's three-fold ethical duties? 313. Are we re- sponsible for the cultivation of conscience ? 314. Discuss the importance of moral culture. 315. Characterize the dignity of a moral manhood. 316. In what earthly spheres is a good conscience needed ? 317. Illustrate and discuss three methods for cultivating conscience. 318. Has the public school ajij'thing to do with moral culture ? EMOTIONAL NATURE. I. The triune nature of mind — the three pS3^chological H's. 2. Is the emotional nature a mental faculty ? Ex- plain. 3. Develop the four enumerated proofs of the ex- istence of an emotional nature. 4. A word portrait of the bright side of the emotional nature. 5. A word por- trait of the dark side of the emotional nature. 6. Discuss the psychological necessity of the precedence of ideas. 7. The balanced mind; the unbalanced mind; analysis and illustrations. 8. Enumerate many illustrations of heart- life in history and literature. 9. Prove the practical and psychological necessity of an emotional nature. 10. Enumerate man)^ illustrations of the moral value of heart- life. II. Give word portraits of lives that throbbed with feelings. 12. Classification of feelings justified and illus- trated. 13. When is a feeling said to become a passion ? 111. 14. The law of opposition with reference to feelings. 15. The character and two-fold origin of simple emotions. 16. The two- fold character and the two-fold origin of the affections. 17. The three elements of a desire a succes- sive development. 18. The physical and mental bases of desires, and their necessity. 19. Enumeration of simple emotions, instinctive and rational. 20. The nature of cheerfulness and its common manifestations. 21, The natural prevalence of cheerfulness in childhood and youth. 22. The infrequent and rational prevalence of cheerful- ness in old age. 23. Word-portraits of cheerful childhood and of cheerful old age. 24. An enumeration of effects in the mission of cheerfulness. 25. The nature of melan- choly and its shadow-like presence. 26. Enumeration of testimonies that melancholy may be hereditary. 28. Mel- ancholy after grief is a gloomy heart-pressure. 29. Ac- count for the frequency of poetic melancholy. 30. The TESTTOPICS. 523 corrective mission and the destructive mission of melan- choly. 31. Word-portraits of the nature and character- istics of sorrow. 32. Enumeration of causes that may bring sorrow. 33. Diverse manifestations of intense sor- row. Many illustrations. 34. Sorrow for the dead — cherished monuments ! 35. Why should sorrows be healed in this life ? 36. What has lapse of time to do with sor- rowing hearts ? 37. The practical and eternal mission of sorrow. 38. Analyze enumerated illustrations of sorrow- ing men. 39. Analyze enumerated illustrations of the nature and strength of sympathy. 40. Prove that real sympathy is instinctive and unselfish in origin. 41. Ana- lyze many illustrations on the mission of sympathy. 42. Enumerate the four instinctive simple emotions. Give propositions. 43. Enumerate and characterize the ration- al simple emotions. 44. The nature of the enjoyment of self-excellence. Object of contemplation. 45. Enumer- ate items that may constitute self-excellence. 46. Prove that comparison is the origin of the enjoyment of self-ex- cellence. 47. What have mood and exaggeration to do with self-excellence? 48. Portray lives that are actuated by proper humility and self-respect. 49. Does the good Book forbid self-respect? Illustrate. 50. Enumerate perverted forms of the enjoyment of self- excellence. 51, Characterize the man of pride. Is pride reasonable ? 52. Characterize the man of vanity. Why is vanity, contempt- ible? 53. Characterize the man of conceit. Why is conceit disgusting ? 54. Characterize the man of arro- gance; of servility and fawning. 55. What is meant by the ludicrous ? Incongruity ? Relations ? 111. 56. Show that enjoyment of the ludicrous arijses from rational per- ception. 57. Enumerate three effects of the ludicrous up- on rational beings. 111. 58. Show that surprise is the chief effect of incongruity. 59. Enumerate the principal forms of the ludicrous. 60. Universal prevalence of tricks, jokes and fun. 61. DiscUvSS jesting. Analyze illustra- tions of blunder. 62. What has apparent or real inno- cence to do with blunder ? 63, What is to be said about puns and punning ? 111. 64. What is burlesque ? Its objects? Writers? 65. What is mock-heroic? Its ob- ject? Writers? 66. What is satire ? Sarcasm? Their missions? Writers? 67. When will new and unex- 23 524 TEST TOPICS . pected relations of incongruity not be ludicrous? 68. Eniimerate many practical spheres for wit and liumor. 69. How does Sydney Smith characterize wit and humor ? 70. What is to be said of the danger of depraved wit ? 7 1 . What is meant by novelty ? Variety ? Their ef- fect ? 72. Do novelty and variety always lead to pleasing surprise ? 73. Tell just how enjoyment of novelty and variety is awakened. 74. What has curiosity to do with our attainments ? 75. Discuss several missions of novelty and variety. 76. When does enjoyment of novelty and variety become ridiculous? 77. Enumerate causes of ennui. What is ennui ? 78. Enumerate many practical values of ennui. 79. Enumerate cases in which ennui makes fools of men. 80. What did God not intend to be the mission of ennui ? 81. What is the pedagogical value of surprise and ennui ? 82. Psychological capacity to en- joy the beautiful. 83. Enumerate many manifestations to prove that men love the beautiful. 84. What may be inferred from disgust awakened by the ugly ? 85. A con- trast-view of how the beautiful and the ugly affect us. 86. Is admiration reflective or immediate ? Voluntary or involuntary? 87. Analyze illustrations to prove that cog- nition precedes admiration, 88. Is there more feeling in the child or in the art critic ? 89. Point out analogies between the enjoyment of the beautiful and of the sub- lime. 90. How does enjoyment of the beautiful differ from enjoyment of the sublime? 91. Enumeration of items that inspire us with awing admiration. 92. Illus- trate distinctions between the effects of the beautiful and of the sublime. 93. What are the emotional effects when the beautiful combines with the sublime ? 94. Give a word portrait of the above combination. 95. Enumerate the missions of the beautiful; of the sublime. 96. The redemptive power of the beautiful and the sublime. 97. Enumerate nature's voices of the beautiful and the sub- lime. 98. The perfect adaptation of nature to our aes- thetic nature. 99. Naturalness of aesthetic enjoyment; neglect of culture. 100. The psychological and practical necessity of moral feeling. loi. The sustaining joj^ous- ness of a good conscience. Illustrations. 102. The uni- versal desirability of a sustaining moral feeling. 103. Analyze many enumerated illustrations of a sustaining TEST TOPICvS. 525 conscience. 104. Discuss the three- fold manifestation of moral satisfaction. 105. A word portrait on the nature of remorse. 106. The intense bitterness and the future voice of remorse. 107. The voice of a guilty conscience in eternal torment. 108. Word portraits on the demon- like pursuit of remorse. 109. The missions of moral satisfaction and of remorse, no. The practical and mor- al necessity for moral feeling, in. Can remorse ever be crushed or slighted? 112. The pedagogical values of moral feeling. THn AFFECTIONS. I. The origin and nature of an affection. Two essen- tial characteristics. 2. Classification of all affections. Enumeration of benevolent affections. 3. General defi- nitions of each benevolent affection. 4. Enumeration of malevolent affections. General definitions. 5. The ori- gin and character of a passio]|j. Word portraits. 6. De- scribe the results in each case when an affection becomes a passion. 7. Enumerate proofs that love of kindred is an original impulse. 8. Enumerate proofs that love of kindred can not come from association. 9. Illustrate proofs that love of kindred is a universal love. 10. Dis- cuss apparent exceptions and draw the proper inference. 1 1 . Enumerate practical missions for love of kindred. 12. Unnatural kindred; causes of such depravity; enumerate illustrations. 13. Enumerate historical characters noted for their love of kindred. 14. What is to be said of mother's love ? 15. What has love of kindred to do with society and manliness ? 16. The desirability and univer- sality of friendship. Illustrations. 17. Show that sym- pathy and congeniality constitute • the essence of friend- ship. 18. Does mere association result in friendship? The effect of association. 19. Enumerate effects result- ing from congenial companionship. 20. Proofs that as- sociation which reveals a unison chord results in friend- ship. 21. Of what may the unison chord of friendship consist ? 111. 22. What diversity of character is con- sistent with true friendship ? 23. How will the kindred spirit of friendship reveal itself? When ? 24. How is love distinguished from friendship ? 25. Enumerate his- 526 TKSTTOPICS. torical characters noted for noble friendships. 26. Enu- merate things that will test the permanency of friendship. 27. The breaking of true friendship. Sad loss of confi- dence. 28. What may be said of "many" friendships; "exclusive" friendship ? 29. The practical and beautiful works of bosom friendship. 30. Characterize "sacred" friendship. Enumerate its choices. 31. What is grati- tude ? How is it prompted ? How measured ? 32. Enumeration of gifts that prompt to joyous gratitude. 33. Enumeration of effects upon a sorrowing million. 34. Show that gratitude is a combination of joyousness and benevolence. 35. Does fervency of gratitude depend on the value of a gift ? 36. What has the donor's motive to do with gratitude ? 37. How is manifestation of grati- tude modified by temperament and environments ? 38. Characterize ingratitude, and censure it properly. 39. Prove that patriotism is connate, universal and often in- stinctive. 40. Enumerate proofs that patriotism is also a rational love. 41. Show hpw patriotism is affected by association. Illustrate. 42. By what things is the fer- vency of patriotism modified ? 43. Illustrate the effects of necessity, rivalry, language, &c., on patriotism. 44. Enumerate manifestations of national pride. Criticise. 45. What tends to erase a nation's individuality? Crit- icise. 46. Enumerate illustrations of patriotism waking from slumber. 47. Prove that one mission of patriotism is self-protection. 48. Prove that the second mission of patriotism is tribal separation. 49. What analogy is there between patriotism and parental love ? 50. Nature and characteristics of philanthropy. 51. Show that sympa- thy is the origin and essence of philanthropy. 52. Enu- merate persons noted for philanthropy. Describe their work. 53. What are two chief missions of philanthropy ? Illustrate. 54. Enumerate evidence that piety is original and universal. 55. Account for the inte'nsity of piety. What of impiety ? 56. Enumerate many beautiful offer- ings of true piety. 57. What has piety done for history ? For the world? 58. What is the high psychological prerogative of true piety ? 59. Discuss the original and universal presence of malevolent affections. 60. Show that malevolent affections amount to displeasure plus re- sentment. 61. Are all forms of * resentment culpable? TEST TOPICS. 527 Name forms. 62. Illustrate the instinctive character of anger, or resentment. 63. Enumerate illustrations of in- stinctive and of rational resentments. 64. Can any thing erase resentment from the human heart ? 65. Illustrate and discuss the origin and nature of resentment. 66. Is resentment always directed toward malefactors ? Discuss. 67. By what things is the intensity of resentment modi- fied ? Illustrate. 68. Show how natural temperament may affect resentment. 69. Show how detection of mo- tives may affect resentment. 70. Is mercy inconsistent with divine wrath ? 71. Enumerate illustrative proofs that protection is a mission of resentment. 72. Enumer- ate illustrative proofs that justice is a mission of resent- ment. 73. IllUvStrate the relation of mercy to punitive justice. 74. Enumerate 3 forms of depraved resentment. 75. Prove that normal resentment is a divine endowment. 76. Show that we must struggle against unreasonable re- sentment. 77. How may self-control influence natural resentment? 78. Enumerate illustrations of uncontrolled, unreasonable resentment. 79. What is envy ? Objects of envy ? Restraint and envy ? 80. What is jealousy ? Its origin ? Its intensity ? Its fruits ? 81. Enumerate illustrations of jealousy and its character. 82. What is revenge ? Its manifold manifestations ? Its violence ? 83. Enumerate illustrations of revenge and its horrible nature. 84. Practical missions of normal resentment. 85. Show that disapprobation checks violent resentment. 86. Show that counter-resentment checks violent resent- ment. 87. Show that humiliation checks violent resent- ment. 88. Write a detailed outline on the affections. 89. Give all the propositions on the affections. 90. Dis- cuss the pedagogical relation to all affections. DESIRES. 90. Relation of desire and aversion; objects of desire and of aversion. 91. The three essential characteristics of a desire explained. 92. Basis of animal desires; of rational desires. Enumerations. 93. Distinguish ac- quired desires from constitutional desires. 94. Enumer- ate two necessary antecedents of every desire. 95. What has absence of an object to do with desire ? Illustrate. 528 TEST TOPICS. 96. What has intellectual apprehension to do with pro- ducing desire ? 97. What has previous enjoyment to do with leading to desire? 98. The impulsive force of de- sires. Missions of animal desire. 99. Practical and psy- chological missions of rational desire. 100. How are our desires modified by intelligence or ignorance ? loi . What has temperament to do with the direction and emphasis of desire? 102. What has the valuation of an absent object to do with the strength of desire ? 103. How does the growth of desire depend upon hope deferred ? 104. Rational control over desires that are hopeless. 105. Voluntary conquest secures subordination of desires. 106. The life- desolation resultant from yielding to passions. 107. Enumerate important missions of each animal desire. 108. Show that normal animal desires are unselfish. 109. What can you say of desire for stimulants? no. Enu- meration of rational desires and their objects, in. Show that desire for happiness is an original and universal en- dowment. 112. What is happiness? Has this world more sorrow? 113. Enumeration of things that make men happy. 114. Show that desire for happiness is a most potent impulse. 115. When is desire for happiness selfish? When is it unselfish ? 116. Why does clinging to life prove that life is a source of happiness ? 117. His- torical expressions to prove men's love of life. 118. Show that suicide is horribly unnatural. 119. Enumer- ate three missions of the desire for happiness. 120. Word portraits of a world that should lack desire for hap- piness. 121. Explain how desire for happiness prompts the hope for immortality. 122. Show that desire for hap- piness makes men morally cautious. 123. Enumerate three violations of the desire for happiness. 124. Word portraits of the misery caused by such violations. 125. What is meant by power ? Detection of its possession. 126. How does enjoyment of power lead to desire for power? 127. Enumerate practical results of the desire for power. 128. Illustrate and define the strength of the desire for power. 129. What is emulation? Is it safe to encourage emulation ? 1 30. How is emulation affected by envy and selfishness? Effects? 131. Is emulation consistent with proper subordination ? 132. What is am- bition ? Enumerate its various domains. 133. Word TKST TOPICS. 529 portraits of lives prompted by passionate ambition. 134. The practical value of a reasonable desire for power. 135. Evil results of an envious and unreavSonable ambi- tion. 136. Historical outgrowths of the desire for power. 137. Show that desire for knowledge is a universal im- pulse. 138. When does desire for knowledge have a moral character? Illustrate. 139. Account for excep- tions to the desire for knowledge. 140. How is the ac- quisition of knowledge affected by desire for knowledge ? 141. Practical motives joined to desire for knowledge: results ? 142. DCvSire for knowledge interprets the voices of nature. 143. What is denoted by the word possession ? Illustrate. 144. The early manifestations of the desire for possession. 145. How is desire for wealth affected b}^ perception of advantages ? 146. Enumerate advantages of wealth. "Love of money." 147. What is covetous- ness and its motives ? Criticisms. 148. What is ava- rice ? Its strength and its irrational character. 149. Word portraits of a miser's life and death. 150. Account for the passionate and terrible strength of avarice. 151. How does the miser argue under association and regret? 152. Enumerate three missions of the desire for possession. 153. Show how the desire for property has its mission in support. 154. Show how desire for propertj^ has its mis- sion in relief 155. Show how desire for property has its mission in elevation. 156. Universal and various mani- festations of desire for society. 1^157. The irrepressible and unselfish character of desire for society. 158. Prac- tical and historical products of solitude. 158. Illustrate the nobility of desire for companionship. 159. Show that desire for companionship may lead to love. 160. Ac- count for "hermit-life." Enumerate historical proofs. 161. The desire for society as found in the animal world. 162. The teachings of prison syvStems as to desire for so- ciety. 163. Enumerate three missions of the desire for society. 164. Show that companionship is desired as a moral safeguard. 165. What has companionship to do with culture and happiness. 166. When does desire for companionship become unreasonable? 167. What is it to desire esteem ? Practical enumeration. 168. How are men affected by glory, honor, fame? 169. Prove that desire for esteem is not an acquired impulse. 170. Enu- 530 T p: S T T O P I c s . merate illustrative proofs that desire for esteem is univer- sal. 171. Bnumerate illustrative proofs that desire for esteem is unselfish. 172. Enumerate manifestations of life that reveal the desire for esteem. 173. Show how loss of reputation affects men. 174. Show how men pine away under reproach and shame. 175. Show how an approv- ing voice may give men courage. 176. Account for tombstones and monuments. 177. Is the desire for fame and recollection a mere fancy? 178. Is the desire for praise the outgro-wth of conceit ? 179. Show that desire for esteem is a social and moral impulse. 180. Show that love of applause weakens character. 181. Is reputation the true measure of great worth ? 182. Show that desire and expectancy are the essentials of hope. 183. The strength and permanence of intense hope. 184. When does hope become more ardent? Develop. 185. Bnu- merate the hopes of the sinning, sorrowing millions. 186. Show how exaggeration may affect hope. 187. Do the pleasures of hope surpass the pleasures of reality ? 188. Why does realization often differ from what was ex- pected? 189. What is impatience? Illustrate reason- able and unreasonable impatience. 190. Practical and eternal missions of hope. Enumeration. 191. Word por- traits of despondency and despair. 192. Word portraits of the hopeful maniac. 193. Prove that it is reasonable and practical to cling to hope. 194. What of the Chris- tian's hopes? The infidel's despair ? 195. What is fear? Its elements ? Its strength? Its growth? 196. Enu- merate practical missions of fear. 197. What is cowardice ? Foolhardiness ? Illustrate. 198. What has tempera- ment to do with our hopes and fears? 199. How does hope compare w^ith fear as a life -impulse ? 200. Show that as springs of action the feelings demand culture. 201. How are our feelings affected by rational estimation ? 202. What has self-control to do with feelings ? 203. How may the teacher give emotional culture ? 204. Does American education undervalue heart-life? 205. Make a full sjmopsis of the desires. Give propositions. TEST TOPICS. 531 THB WILL. I. Enumerate proofs that it is difficult to study the will. 2. Prove the psychological importance of the will. 3. Prove the practical importance of the will. 4. Prove the ethical importance of the will. 5. What is the theologi- cal importance of studying the will ? 6. Define the will, and illustrate its two functions. 7. What three destinies may the initial volition have ? 8. Describe the voluntary phenomena of a candidate's experience. 9. Describe the voluntary phenomena in the choice of a profession. 10. Describe the voluntary phenomena in the "Prodigal's" experience. 1 1 . Analyze phenomena to show the first, second and third destinies. 12. What four items does each analysis reveal? 13. Analyze other enumerated topics to test conclusions. 14. The purposes and variety of voluntary energy. 15. What is a motive? How does a reason differ from a cause ? 16. Show from con- duct and consciousness that motives are rather reasons. 17. The two-fold origin of all motives. Develop each origin. 18. How do the motives of youth differ from those of manhood ? 19. How are motives affected by ed- ucational and religious systems ? 20. Characterize the conflict between "like" and "ought". 21. Portray the two issues of conflict between motives. 22. Show that unison of motives is a psychological mission. 23. Char- acterize unison of "like and ought" in practical life. 24. Show that choice is an initial volition. 25. Prove that determination, or choice, is preceded by deliberation. 26. Prove that the deliberation preceding choice is always possible and free. 27. Enumerate four steps in the de- velopment of a choice. 28. What is meant by diversity of objects? Illustrate and discuss. 29. What is meant by liberty of .selection ? Illustrate and discuss. 30. What is meant by deliberation ? Show that it is possible and essential. 31. Enumerate items that modify the character of deliberation. 32. Discuss impatient deliber- ation; weak deliberation. Illustrate. 33. What is meant by the "strongest" motive? Proper inference, 34. What is meant by decision, or mental execution ? 111. 35. Summarize the discussion on the free development of a choice. 36. What may be foretold as to the character 23* 532 TKvST TOPICS. and certainty of a choice ? 37. Does fore-knowledge con- flict with freedom of choice ? Illustrate. 38. Analyze enumerated topics to prove from conduct that choice is free. 39. Show that mental execution is a final volition. Illustrate. 40. Show that the final volition is irrevocable and mentally executive. 41. How does a final volition reveal itself outwardly ? 111. 42. Howis the completion of a final volition known ? 111. 43. How does intention differ from voluntary conduct ? 111. 44. What have time and occasion to do with volition and action ? 45. Prove logically that the executive volition must be a free act. 46. Prove that the executive volition is a psycho- logical sequence. 47. Illustrate and prove the possible triumph of will over desire. 48. What is meant by call- ing will the first cause of character ? 49. Is it easy to conceive of the will as a first cause ? Hamilton. 50. What are some of the questions implied in freedom of will ? 51. Why is it difficult and important to under- stand human freedom ? 52. What is the nature of human freedom ? Is it physical freedom ? 53. Discuss and il- lustrate the distinctions between function and product. 54. Illustrate and discuss the ethical element of human freedom. 55. Does Revelation confirm the above doc- trine of freedom ? 56. What is meant by freedom of choice ? From choice ? Distinguish. 57. What would make mental execution a mere farce? 58. Enumerate four affirmative arguments of human freedom. 59. What are the basis and notion of each affirmative argument ? 60. Give the common sense argument. Distinguish be- lief from conviction. 61. Show that men everywhere act as if free. Logical inference. 65. Give the ethical argu- ment. Analyze a moral experience. 63. How only can we reasonably account for conscience ? 64, What is re- morse? Of what is remorse a confession ? 65. What in- ference do we draw from administration of justice?. 66. Are remorse and penalty the impositions of habit or fancy? 67. Why does even an infidel writhe under conscience ? 68. Is it reasonable to call conscience a divine mocker}^ ? 69. Give the pS5^chological argument. Of what are we conscious ? 70. What is the testimony of memory even in a criminal ? 71. What follows if we can not rely on this argument? 72. Give the argument from contradic- T K S T T O P I c s . 533 tion. What ivS fatalism ? 73. Illustrate the practical ab- surdity of fatalism ? 74. Is it at all likely, that man is a victim and God a tyrant? 75. What kind of people can not comprehend affirmative arguments ? 76. Enumerate six apparent objections to be stated and refuted. 77. Give the proposition on the denial of emotional predominance. 78. What are the claims of emotional predominance ? 79. Refute this objection bj^ means of the psychological ar- gument. 80. Enumerate historical proofs against emo- tional predominance. 81. Show how passion may for- feit human freedom. 82. Give the refutation argument against predominance of motive. 83. What are the claims of predominance of motive ? Illustrate. 84. Show that the so-called " strongest motive" is only the "best reason". 85. Show that the " strongest motive" would make will a farce. 86. Distinguish between "moral cer- tainty" and " moral necessity." 87. Point out the logi- cal fallacy in " moral necessity" . 88. Illustrate the in- fluence of motives upon volition. 89. State the " dictum necessitatis", and explain its force. 90. Why does the "dictum necessitatis" deceive? 91. Show the absurdity of the claim of necessity of previous volition. 92. Show that ever}^ choice or volition has its first cause in will. 93. Enumerate proofs that we have the power of "con- trary choice' ' . 94. What do the objectors claim as to con- trary choice. 95. Point out the difference between power and willingness to use it. 96. What is the proof from consciousness in favor of contrary choice ? 97. How do memory and history confirm this proof? 98. Why is human freedom not inconsistent with divine supremacy ? 99. What are the objector's claims in view of admitted divine supremacy ? 100. Define human freedom. Is such freedom reasonable and adequate ? loi. Do we grant the justice of human limitations ? Develop. 102. Show that human freedom is the gift of God's love. 103. Give Dr. Mann's definition of human freedom. 104. What are the claims of this definition? 105. Point out the adequate perfection of such freedom. 106. Show how a degener- ated will cries out for divine mediation. 107. Can human freedom work out our own salvation ? 108. Show at length how psychological degeneracy points to Calvary. 109. Enumerate three lines of exercise for cultivating the 534 T K S T TOPICS. will. no. Explain how to cultivate the will by direc- tion. 111. III. Explain how to cultivate the will by stimulation. 111. 112. Explain how to cultivate the will b}^ self-control. 111. 113. Enumerate practical and moral fruits of such cultivation. 114. Is there any limit in cultivation of will ? 115. Explain natural and acquired strength of will. 111. 116. Point out the necessity of religious correction. 117. Why is it reasonable to bring our will under the touch of religion? 118. When only is desire fully reconciled with duty ? 119. Does Ameri- can education lay sufficient stress on will-culture ? 120. Study carefully the resume on the will. 121. Form a clear and logical synopsis of the resume. 122. Give all the propositions on the will. 123. Write a careful thesis on human freedom. SUPPI^SMSNT. I . The teaching of physiology as to the nature of sleep. 2. Prove that sleep is primarily a sense- exhaustion. 3. Do the sense gateways close in sleep, and with what re- sults ? 4. Is the sleeper conscious of external environ- ments? Explain. 5. Is the sleeper wholly unconscious ? Is he self-conscious ? 6. How and why does the will de- pend upon sense- action ? 7. Characterize the sleeper's loss of power over his body. 8. Has sleep any power over vital functions of the body? 9. Characterize the sleeper's loss of power over his mind. 10. Prove that it is natural for the eye to fall asleep finst. 11. Illustrate how the eye goes to sleep first. 12. Prove the indicated order of sense-exhaustion in falling asleep. 13. Justify the practical and natural order of falling asleep. 14. Is death like sleep? State the inference drawn. 15. Is the order of falling asleep the same under all conditions ? 16. Prove that we fall asleep unconscioUvSly. Of what are we conscious? 17. What of attention and perception in sleep? Illustrate. 18. Characterize memor}^ and imagi- nation in sleep. Illustrate. 19. Characterize judgment and reasoning in sleep. Illustrate. 20. What of primary ideas and primary truths in sleep ? Illustrate. 2 1 . Char- acterize the aesthetical and ethical products of sleep. 22. What of the emotions, affections, and desires in our sleep? T K S T T O P I C S . 535 23. Is there voluntary control in sleep- thoughts ? Illus- trate. 24. Write a thesis on the phenomena of sleep. 25. Write the propositions on sleep, and analyze into a synopsis. DRBAMS. I. What is a dream ? Enumerate four characteristics. 2. What has acquired momentum to do with dream-co- herency ? 3. Prove that dreams are chiefly involuntary. 4. Prove that we are conscious of our dreams. Of what ? 5. Does want of recollection prove a dream to have been unconscious ? 6. Enumerate the two bases of ordinary dreams. 7. What suggestive force have sensations in a sleeping man ? 8. Enumerate illustrations of dreams based on suggestions from touch. 9. Enumerate illustra- tions of dreams based on suggestions from hearing. 10. How may latent disease give color to our dreams ? 11. Illustrate how mental impulse becomes a dream sugges- tion. 12. Explain how a problem is often worked out in a dream. 13. In what two ways may a problem be solved in sleep ? 14. Does only the mathematician dream grand products? 15. Are dreams ever an index of genius and mental directions ? 16. Are dreams an evidence of nat- ural inclination or of actual character ? 17. Enumerate three chief characteristics of dreams. 18. Why are dreams incoherent? Apparently real? 19. Why are dreams seemingly long- continued? Illustrate. 20. What are prophetic dreams ? Illustrate. 21. Why are dreams not mere coincidences? Why not supernatural? 22. Analogy between magnetic communication and mysteri- ous communication. 23. Enumerate and analyze pro- phetic dreams as given in the text. 24. What is a pre- sentiment ? Is it all superstition ? Illustrate. 25. Give the propositions on dreams and analyze them into a syn- opsis. SOMNAMBULISM. I. Enumerate six phenomena of somnambulism. De- velop. 2. Enumerate and analyze illustrations of physi- cal locomotion. 3. Enumerate and analj^ze illustrations of artistic genius and skill. 4. Enumerate and analyze illustrations of uninterrupted vision. 5. Enumerate and 536 T K vS T T O P I C S . analyze illustrations of vocal and tactual review. 6. Enumerate illustrations of clear consciousness, but no voli- tion. 7. What is somnambulism according to its phe- nomena? 8. Show that somnambulism has its origin in impulse and suggestion. 9. What does intensified men- tal energy have to do with genius ? 10. Explain inten- sified mental energy and tactual merging of all sensation. 1 1 . Apply the above explanation to somnambulistic phe- nomena. 12. Explain each phenomena separately and in full. 13. Why does the somnambulist pay no attention to some things ? 14. Prove that somnambulistic acts must be conscious acts. 15. What is meant by con- sciousness apart from sense- contact ? 16. Why can not the somnambulist recall his doings? 17. Analogy be- tween somnambulism and nervous shock. MBSMMRISM. 18. What is mesmerism? Describe phenomena. 19. Cautions with regard to mesmerism. Explanation. 20. Write the propositions on somnambulism. Analyze. 2 1 . Write a thesis on somnambulism. 22. Describe mesmer- ism in relation to diseases. 23. What is "powwowing" ? Is it an actual fact ? ABNORMAL MHNTAI, ACTION, I. Enumerate five conditions of abnormal mind- action. 2. Enumerate items that may lead to abnormal actions. 3. Who are in danger of becoming insane ? Why ? 4. What is the relation of the sensorium to insanity ? 5. What things may lead to delirium ? Explain. 6. Illus- trate the cause and results of delirium. 7. Describe the phenomena of delirium. 8. Can men guard themselves and others against delirium? 9. What is mania? Of what is it the product ? 10. Describe the phenomena of mania. Analyze. 11. What items may lead to mania ? IllUvStrate. 12. What is meant by permanent insanity ? Characterize. 13. Describe the mental phenomena of an insane man. 14. Is insanity ever hereditary? What then? 15. Can men ward off permanent insanity ? 16. Write a thesis on the character of insanit3\ 17. What is Tp:S 1' TOPICS. 537 the relation of mind and body in the insane? i8. What is your explanation of the prevalence of insanity ? 19. Is the human race drifting toward insanity ? Why ? 20. What is the evidence of experts ? 21. What has religion to do with insanity? 22. What has teaching to do with insanity? 23. Howare justice and church affected by in- sanity ? 24. Study the records and statistics of insane asylums. ANIMAI, MIND. I. Why vshould we look for some kind of mind in ani- mals? 2. Should we expect generic difference between animal and human mind ? 3. Why is it difficult to study animal mind ? Why important ? 4. What must be the sources of information on animal mind? 5. Enumerate generic difference between animal and human mind. 6. What is meant by linguistic equivalents in animals ? Illustrate. 7. Analyze the illustration on spider monkeys. Enumerate inferences. 8. What is the relation of animal intelligence and consciousness ? Enumerate characteris- tics of self-consciousness. 10. Prove that animals have approaches to self- consciousness. 11. Enumerate and analyze illustrations of animal consciousness. 12. Prove that this consciousness is a record only of sensation and association. 13. Show that animals lack all real self- con- sciousness. 14. What else must be lacking in animal mind, if real self- consciousness is lacking? 15. Analyze illustrations of so called animal attention. 16. Distin- guish impulsive attention from voluntary attention. 17. Describe the process and enumerate the products of ani- mal perception. 18. Distinguish animal perception from human perception. Illustrate. 19. Show that divinely directed impulse is a practical law of brute action. 20. Why has animal memory to do only with sensation and impulse? 21. Enumerate distinctions betw^een animal memory and human memory. 22 Show that animal memory is rather a repetition of sensation. 23. Analyze the illustration of animal grief Characterize fully. 24. Illustrate the effect of repeated association upon horse- memory. 25. Analyze phenomena of the " Equine Para- dox" exhibition. 26. Show that immediate inference is 53^ '^ K S T T O P I c .s . based upon accurate animal sensations. 27. Can we show that animals have the power of ideal creation ? 28. Enu- merate illustrations to prove the absence of animal imagi- nation. 29. Analyze enumerations to prove the absence of animal aesthetic nature. 30. Show by illustrations that ani- mal judgment conforms action to accurate sensations. 31. Enumerate and analyze illustrations of intelligent ani- mal judgment. 32. Show that animal judgment can be applied only to animal missions. 33. Show by illustra- tions that animals can not abstract, generalize, etc. 34. Analyze illustrations to show that animal lack syllogistic reflection. 35. Explain the intelligent doings of elephants and crows. 36. Show that animal minds are not endowed with Reason. 37. Show that there is no practical neces- sity for animal intuition. 38. Analyze illustrations that look like products of Reason. 39. Analyze an illustra- tion of apparent knowledge of personal identity. 40. Show by illustrations that animals lack the aesthetic fac- ulty. 41. Show by illustrations that animals lack all moral powers. 42. Show by illustrations how animals come to act as if they knew right. 43. Do animals real- ly know remorse ? What is animal shame ? 44. Of what simple emotions are animals capable ? Illustrate. 45. Of what affections are animals capable ? Analyze il- lustrations. 46. Of what desires are animals capable? Analyze illustrations. 47. What can you say of hope and fear in animals ? Illustrate. 48. Show that animal feel- ings are irresistible impulses to action. 49. Why do ani- mals not need a determinative and executive power ? 50. Analyze illustrations of apparent will- exertion in animals. 5 1 . What takes place of the will in animal action ? Illus- trate. 52. Enumerate remarkably intelligent animal ac- tivities. 53. Is animal skill the product of culture? What follows ? 54. Is animal intelligence capable of uni- versal application? 55. Is animal architecture, etc., a scientific product ? Illustrate. 56. Enumerate and analyze illustrations of animal intelligence prior to culture. 57. What inference do we draw from the above enumerations. 58. Why do we predict immortality of human mind ? 59. What is the force of common conviction that animals are not immortal ? 60. If animals are not immortal, is there a generic distinction ? 61. Have animals moral and reli- T KvST TOPI CS . 539 gious impulses ? Illustrate. 62. If animals have no re- ligious and no moral nature, what follows ? 63. Write the propositions on animal mind and analyze them. 64. Write a neat and comprehensive outline on Animal Mind. MISCELLANBOUS TESTS, I. Enumerate and characterize the comprehensive pow- ers of human mind. 2. Enumerate and characterize the specific, or distinct, powers of the mind. 3. The analogy and difference between sensation and consciousness. 4. Enumerate 15 mental functions and their respective prod- ucts. 5. Give pen-pictures of 15 mental processes. 6. Characterization of all mental products. 7. Prove the practical and the psychological use for five senses. 8. Discuss the importance of suggestion in all functions of the mind. 9. How would you cultivate reproductive and productive imagination? 10. Discuss the educational value of the two forms of imagination. 11. What is a percept? A concept ? A pure abstract? 12. Describe the process of abstraction. 13. What is absolutely right ? Illustrate the operations of conscience. 14. How does consciousness differ from conscience ? 15. Define human freedom. Develop 4 affirmative arguments. 16. How do primary qualities of bodies differ from secondary quali- ties ? "17. Prove the existence of primary ideas and pri- mary truths. 18. What is it in a thing that constitutes its real beaut}^ ? 19. ^y what faculty does a child ac- quire concrete knowledge ? 20. By what faculties does a child acquire abstract ideas ? 21. Why is it natural for the mind to pass from the concrete to the abstract ? 22. How would you establish a natural law ? A matter of fact ? 23. How would you prove a practical phenome- non ? 24. Is attention ever involuntary ? What is in- terest? 25. Distinguish between consciousness and atten- tion. 26. What is the relation of psychology to pedago- gy? 27. Distinguish between mental degeneracy and weakness. 28. What is the great law of mental culture ? Illustrate. 29. Is it genius or culture that makes a good teacher? 30. Distinguish education from learning; edu- cation from instrution. 31. Upon what basis would you select a child's studies? 32. What is a teacher's use of 540 T K S T TOPICS. psychological culture ? 33. What has psychology to do with temperament and physiognonty ? COMPRBHBNSIVB TMSTS. I. Write a logical essay on the pre-eminence of human mind. 2. Develop four characteristics of a mental facul- ty and find whether consciousness is a faculty. 3. Ana- alyze the definition on attention into topics and write an essay on it. 4. Character of perception as a power; as a process; its product; mental value. 5. How do we know anything of the world round about us ? Develop. 6. Make a synopsis of the laws of association and show their suggestive value. 7. Write a logical essay on retention, recollection and recognition. 8. Write a logical CvSsay on the psychological and practical mission of ideal creation. 9. Enumerate four functions of judgment. Describe the processes and products. 10. Outline reasoning in a logi- cal synopsis of forty headings. II. Write a critical and analytic essay on the aesthetic faculty and its mission. 12. Write a critical and analytic essay on Conscience and its mission. 13. Outline exactly and fully the whole emo- tional nature. 14. Outline the human will in a synopsis of forty headings. 15. Analyze the definition on will; on human freedom; Dr. Mann's definition. 16. Write an es- say developing the four proofs of human freedom. 17. Write an outline and an essay on sleep. 18. Write an outline and an CvSsay on dreams. 19. Describe six phe- nomena of somnambulism and give explanation. 20. Por- tray the various forms on insanity and give explanations. 2 1 . Write a logical outline on animal mind, and develop the outline. 22. Analyze the definition on mind. Explain the force of terms used. 23. What do you think is the mission of psychology in American education ? 24. Ex- plain how pedagogical methods should grow out of accu- rate psychology. '"TLde^:, Introduction, Nature of Mind, Existence of Mind, A Mental Faculty, Information, Consciousness, Characterization , . Development, . Domain, Cultivation, Attention, Nature, Automatic Action, Value of Attention, . Process, One Object, Perception, A Faculty, Its Process, , Percept Knowledge, Sense Information, Acquired Perceptions, Cultivation, Memory, Suggestion, . Association, Retention, Relations, Mnemonics, Recollection, 23 26 27 28 33 34 35 37 40 45 47 47 49 49 50 51 54 55 55 58 66 76 82 83 87 91 93 96 100 542 1 N D K X Kecognitioii, Cultivation, Imagination, Process, Products, Mission, . Cultivation, Judgment, Direct Comparison, Abstraction, Generalization, Classification, . Cultivation, . Keasoning, Syllogisms, . Deduction, Induction, Experience, Testimony, . Analogy, , Hypothesis, . Cultivation, Intuition, Primary Ideas, Primary Truths, . Ideas in Detail, Space, . Time, Identity, Cause, The Aesthetic, Taste, The Moral, . Conscience, Cultivation, Sensibility, . Simple Emotions, Cheerfulness, Melancholy, Sorrow, Sympathy, . Self-Excellence, INDEX 543 Tlic Ludicrous, Novelty and Var The Beautiful, The Sublime, The Eight, . Affections, . Kindred, Friendship, Gratitude, Patriotism, Philanthropy, Piety, .' . Kesentment, Desires, Happiness, . Power, Knowledge, . Possession, Society, Esteem, Hope and Fear, Cultivation, The Will, Nature, Destinies, Illustrations, Analysis, Ends, Motives, Origin, Conflict, Unison, Choice, Objects, Selection, Deliberation. Decision, C*tainty, Volition, Freedom, . Argumentation, Objections, iety ■r /S / f'^iom •s-'^SL-'- 544 INDEX. ■c^<. Cultivation, . . . . . . 448 Kesume, 450 Supplement, . 455 Sleep, . . 4.^5 Nature, . 455 Death, ....... 458 Dreams, . 462 Nature, 462 Origin, . . . . . •. 463 Characteristics, 466 Presentiment, . 468 Somnambulism, 470 Phenomena, . 470 Origin, . . . . . 471 Explanation, . 472 Mesmerism, 476 Phenomena, . . . . . 476 Explanation, 476 Abnormal Action, .... . 478 Delirium, '■ . 479 Mania, . 480 Insanity, 481 Animal Mind, .483 Animal Intelligence, . . . 484 Comparisons and Contrasts, 494 Test Topics, ^t' 499 ,!;,!,lf''^RY OF CONGRESS 020 198 894 9