&&^^mi^^^^$g3^^&^s^^&ig& §s CANNOT LEAVE THE LIBRARY. CH4P.-BF— Lv__L Shelf. Mz_i ®: COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 1 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. | U 9-165 m , /-£" / QC 6, THE PERCEPTIONALIST OR MENTAL SCIENCE 31 GiniHv$itv Cejtt'OBoofe BY EDWARD J. HAMILTON, D.D. PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE STATE UNIVERSITY, SEATTLE WASHINGTON AUTHOR OF "THE HUMAN MIND," "THE MODALIST," "A NEW ANALYSIS IN FUNDAMENTAL MORALS," ETC. W SEATTLE LOWMAN AND HANFORD 1899 THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, One Copy Received FEB. 2fe 1905 *** into, No. COPY A. Copyright, 1885, By Edward John Hamilton. Copyright, 1899, By Edward John Hamilton. • » » • • SUnttorgttg ^rrss: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. PREFACE. 1886. This volume is a response to advice and encouragement given the author by several eminent professors, and also the execution of a purpose partially entertained at the time of the publication of his former book, "The Human Mind." The discussions in that treatise, in order to justify peculiarities of doctrine, are frequently extended and minute. It was pro- posed, in case the work met with favor, to reproduce its chap- ters in a simpler form. The author need hardly say that the reception accorded "The Human Mind" has surpassed his highest expectations. "Mental Science," therefore, is now offered as an educa- tional manual, and as a compend for the reading of those who would inform themselves respecting the doctrines of an earnest philosophy without entering upon non-essential details. The majority of the discussions have been not merely abridged, but simplified ; a considerable number have been entirely re- written. Some chapters, too, which are devoted to logical questions, and which may prove serviceable in connection with some future effort, have been omitted. It has, however, been the aim to present a true theory of every normal activity of the intellect. In order to assist the eye in that work of review which is a condition of all thorough scholarship, teachers will perceive that italics have been employed more freely than would otherwise be desirable. They will also notice that ten out of the fifty chapters into which the treatise is divided have been printed iv PREFACE. in small type. The dissertations thus marked are not deemed absolutely indispensable to a course in psychologj 7 . They are, however, as interesting as any others in the book, and they have no peculiar difficulty. The general sj'stem of doctrine in the service of which both " The Human Mind" and "Mental Science" have been com- posed, might be styled Perception alism. For some such term may properly designate a form of philosophy which main- tains, from an analytical and theoretical point of view, that mankind are not deluded in claiming that they perceive fact and truth, and that what they call their perceptions are true perceptions of those very things which they say that they perceive. Some old writers have described this radical doctrine which Perceptionalism supports as that of "the reliability' of those faculties which God has given us." This is , a fair definition ; but it should be understood that the reference to our Maker in it is not presented in proof of the doctrine, but simply to indicate that trustworthiness is claimed only for well-known and actually existing faculties, and not for any faculties the concep- tion of which is peculiar to some philosophic school. The word " perception" is sometimes limited in its applica- tion : we now use it in its most unrestricted meaning. For we have perceptions of simple fact and perceptions of necessary relations ; presentational perceptions and inferential percep- tions ; the perceptions of sense and of consciousness, and per- ceptions concomitant of these ; the perceptions of the intuitive, and those of the discursive, reason : we perceive what is true actualistically and what is true hypothetical^ ; we perceive the possible and the necessa^, and the contingent and the probable. Our doctrine is that all these perceptions, when made by a sound mind and under proper conditions, are trustworthy ; and our philosophy finds justification for this doctrine in the critical investigation of every mode of human cognition or conviction. PREFACE. V Perceptionalism does not assert that the mind of man is infallible. On the contrary, recognizing the frequent recur- rence of error, it seeks to understand the sources and laws of mistaken belief as well as those of correct belief. But it emphasizes the truth that man is capable of knowledge, or well- grounded certainty, about man}' things ; and that where this is not attainable, he may often wisely form a judgment of probability. We allow that the dogmatic statement of this truth, even though accompanied by arguments showing its excellence and reasonableness, could scarcely be entitled a system of phi- losophy. If, however, the reliability of our faculties became evident as the last result of an exhaustive analysis of the phe- nomena of the intellect, then, in the system thus evolved, we say that there would be a philosophy worthy of the name. We trust that the discussions now again, in simpler form, presented to the public, ma}' once more be welcomed as an attempt in the right direction. For some time past our country has been invaded by two systems of speculation, which, like an army with two wings ex- tended in martial array, have threatened to subdue America either to a materialistic or to an idealistic agnosticism. But the educated thought of this land cannot be permanently affected by theories which resolve our commonest and most assured convictions into doubt and unbelief. It is our confident ex- pectation that some such system as that which we have named Perceptionalism will be the philosophy of the future in these United States. E. J. H. Hamilton College, Clinton, N". Y., May 23, 1885. PREFACE. 1899. Thirteen years ago, a treatise entitled "The Perception- alist " was placed in the hands of Robert Carter, then the oldest living publisher in New York City, and then, as always, one of the best and noblest of men. He objected to the designation 44 Perceptionalist," because of its novelty, and because it could not be found in any dictionary. In deference to his judgment, the name was changed ; after which one, and then another, edition of the book, under the title 44 Mental Science," was issued by Robert Carter and Brothers. Meanwhile the term " Perceptionalism " has been used for a dozen years to distinguish a system of philosophy, and has found its way into some of the dictionaries. Under these cir- cumstances, and in view of the present opportunity, it is only proper that the book should appear under its original name. This seems the more expedient because, in the present edition, the treatise is preceded by a dissertation in which Perception- alism is denned, and in which the leading doctrines of Per- ceptionalism are briefly stated. After the necessity for the present issue became apparent, the author reviewed "Mental Science" carefully, to determine what changes were needed in the text, or if any additions were desirable. He found that only a few unimportant alterations were called for. These have been made; and he now offers 44 The Perceptionalist" to the public as the best text-book within his power to produce. viii PREFACE. As this work is specially designed for use in colleges and universities, it may not be out of place to state the way in which it has been found most serviceable in an Eastern college and in a Western university. The writer has been influenced by consideration for a class of students whose instruction in Mental Science must be limited to about fifty exercises in the lecture room. To meet their needs, he has sometimes omitted those portions of the book which are printed in smaller type. But another method, suggested by the peculiar plan of the book, has been tried for several years, and has proved very satisfactory. For, after the first seven or eight chapters (which are introductory), the treatise may be said to consist of two parts or volumes, each of which relates to one broad view, or aspect, of the phenomena and faculties of the mind. The first of these volumes begins definitely with Chapter X., and is based on the division of our mental powers into the Primary and the Secondary. Thought (or Conception) and Belief (or Conviction) are called the primary powers, because the exercise of them is the essential and ultimate work of the intellect; while Attention and Acquisition, Reproduction and Association, Analysis and Synthesis, Abstraction and General- ization, are secondary powers, because their function is to modify the workings of Thought and Conviction and to render them efficient. Of course, "Thought" here, as opposed to "Conviction," signifies mere thought, — the mere power of having ideas. The peculiar doctrines of Perceptionalism are presented chiefly in the first part, or volume, of the treatise. The second volume, beginning with Chapter XXX., regards mental life as divisible into three Grand Phases, — the Perceptive, or Pres- entational; the Reproductive, or Representational; and the Discursive, or Rational, — each of which is a resultant of the activity, under determining conditions, of both the Primary and the Secondary powers of mind. The course of discussion thus introduced, no less than that of the first volume, brings under survey all the phenomena of the intellect. But it con- siders the concrete forms of mental life, and seeks to under- PREFACE. ix stand these while keeping in remembrance the principles and laws elucidated in the first volume. It will be noticed that the order of thought in this second series of chapters agrees with that commonly followed by text-books in mental philosophy. Finally, the treatise closes with two chapters based on yet another logical division, whereby 'the fundamental Elements of both Thought and Belief are distinguished as the Experiential and the Intuitional. Such being the construction of the book, the author has been led to make it the foundation of two somewhat independent courses of instruction. He has emploj^ed the first twenty-nine chapters, together with some lectures, for a twelve weeks' course ; and he has given another twelve weeks' course in con- nection with the first seven chapters and with the concluding portion of the book beginning with Chapter XXX. These courses are so independent that a student can take either of them without taking the other, while, at the same time, they are so supplementary to each other that every stu- dent who has the time should take both. As a matter of fact, most students of the University of Washington who have taken one of these courses have elected the other also. The above method is especially commended to any professor who can devote himself to philosophical instruction with more than ordinary thoroughness, and who may wish to supplement the chapters of the book with lectures of his own. E. J. H. Seattle, Washington, October 15, 1898. PERCEPTIONALISM. A PREFATORY DISSERTATION. 1. The word "perception," in its ordinary meaning and widest application, signifies the correct apprehension of fact or truth. On this basis, that philosophy ichich examines and explains perceptions as such, may be styled Perceptionalism. Let us discuss this name and give some reasons for the use of it ; and let us consider the nature of the philosophy which it designates. The Latin preposition "per," like its English equivalent " through," often indicates instrumentality, or agency, as in the maxim "Qui facit per alium, facit per se" ; but "per" never has this meaning when used as a prefix in the composi- tion of words. It then signifies either movement through or over some place, as in the verbs peraqro, perambulo, permitto, perrumpo, or else thoroughness in the performance of some action, as in the verbs pereo, perfero,perjicio, pernego, pernosco. This last thought — thoroughness — is the ordinary signification of ' 4 per " as a prefix, and is that belonging to it in the words " perceive " and " perception." The verb " percipere " and the noun "perceptio" originally meant any thorough taking of a thing, so as to bring it within one's possession. In the seventeenth chapter of Cato Major, Cicero speaks of the " perceptio fructuum," or harvesting of fruits; and, in the same chapter, he says " Themistocles om- nium civium perceperat nomina " ; that is, Themistocles had learnt, or mastered, the names of all the citizens. These quo- xii PER CEPTIONALISM. tations illustrate the transfer of the word from a physical to a psychical application. But "percipere," as indicating intellec- tual apprehension, does not always, nor even generally, include memorizing ; as it does when Themistocles is said to have learnt the names of his fellow-citizens. Ordinarily with the Romans this word signified simply the cognition of fact or truth; and especially, when they spoke of perceiving a thing by the senses or by the mind, they used language just as we do; they meant that psychical operation by which one comes to know that a thing is, or what it is, or that it would be, or what it would be. And this is a very natural use of language ; for when we have gained the knowledge of any fact or truth, we may then be said to have taken something into our possession, whether we retain it afterwards in our memory or not. In short, perception and cognition are two names for the same process. They differ in that perception emphasizes the thought of the process more than that of the result, while cognition emphasizes the thought of the result more than that of the pro- cess. But perception always terminates in knowledge, and is therefore cognition ; no act or process is called perceptive ex- cept on the assumption that it produces absolute and well- founded conviction. 2. These statements will be confirmed if we consider the different modes of perception which occur in our daily experi- ence. There are three simple modes of immediate cognition. Men perceive their own bodies and bodily affections and the immediate causes of these affections ; such cognition is the beginning of all sense-perception. They perceive their own souls as in activity, as thinking, feeling, or willing ; this we call consciousness, or internal perception. Then, in connection with bodily and mental phenomena, they perceive spacial, tem- poral, causal, and other relations ; and, along with these rela- tions, certain fundamenta on which they rest, such as spaces, times and changes. All such cognitions may be distinguished as concomitant perceptions, because they accompany those of sense-perception and consciousness. Thus, there are three simple modes of immediate perception. A PREFATORY DISSERTATION. xiii We also form compound immediate perceptions, especially of external objects ; and these prepare the way for inferential, or " acquired" perception. The boy born blind, who obtained sight through a surgical operation, could not at first distin- guish the cat from the dog visually, though he could tactually. Catching the cat one day, he passed his hands over her, and identified what he felt with what he saw. Then he set her down and said, " So, puss, I shall know you another time." Here a concomitant perception compounded the cognitions of sight and touch ; and evidently a basis for subsequent inference was se- cured by means of that compositional cognition. Hereafter, whether puss be seen in the daytime or handled in the dark, the same knowledge will be obtained through one sense which originally resulted from the use of two. All our ordinary sense- perceptions are more or less "acquired"; and some of them, such as determinations by the eye of the distance, size, and shape of remote objects, are quite complex judgments. More evidently, though not more really, inferential than the ordinary discriminations of sense are those ration al perceptions by which things are seen as necessarily or probably or possibly consequent upon given antecedents. Here, perhaps, it would be more literal to say that a thing is inferentially perceived when it is necessary, and that, in other cases, we only perceive that it may probably or possibly exist ; yet, even in these cases, we speak of perception if the judgment be made correctly. Because we may Icnow that a thing is probable or possible. All rational perceptions are related to our presentational cog- nitions, and seem consequent upon them. For in the immedi- ate cognitions of fact we perceive, not merely simple fact, but also, by a concomitant cognition, various necessary relations according to which one fact is conditioned upon, or connected with, another. This prepares us for logical inference ; so that afterwards, when a necessitant, or a necessary condition, appears, we can infer a necessary or a possible consequent, such as the case calls for. Then, too, we must mention that important mode of rational perception which takes place even in the absence of any ante- xiv PERCE PTIONALISM. cedent. For the mind, using that power of conception which deals with things that are not as if they were, makes inferences from supposed or imaginary premises. Therefore we recog- nize hypothetical as well as actualistic perception, and hypotheti- cal as well as actualistic knowledge. 3. Now, as every mode of perception — whether it be presen- tational or inferential, whether it be actualistic or hypothetical — claims to be a mode of cognition and to result in knowledge, it is plain that the doctrine which explains perceptions as such must assert and maintain the reliability of our perceptions. In other words, Perceptionalism must teach that what men call their perceptions are true perceptions, and that what men know they truly know, and that these positions are justified by the thorough examination of both thought and fact. It may cause astonishment to some that any system should set forth such teaching as distinctively its own. It may be asked, " Do not all philosophers accept the perceptions of man- kind as veritable cognitions ? Is it not presumptuous in one school to assert that this doctrine is specially and pre-eminently the result of its own investigations ? " We reply that the past history of philosophy, and the condition of philosophy at the present time, warrant the statement that all the more celebrated systems, both of ancient and of modern days, conflict more or less with the ordinary convictions of mankind ; and by far the greater part of the speculative talent of the existing generation not only rejects the radical idea of Perceptionalism, but con- siders that idea a mark of intellectual shallowness. The popu- lar philosophies of to-day, while differing from each other, are wonderfully agreed in explaining away various fundamental be- liefs. Who are more antagonistic than the Associationalists of England and the Idealists of Germany ? Yet both teach that we have no proper knowledge of an external and material world ; both declare that space and time are mental products, and not things which have independent natures of their own ; and, according to both, substances, powers, the relation of cause and effect, and necessitudinal connections generally, are merely forms of conception. A PREFATORY DISSERTATION. XV Then, too, particular schools of philosophy, in their very points of variance from each other, are at variance also with the judgments of mankind. Materialism, in saying that the soul is composed of a multiplicity of molecules, and that its life is the action of these molecules, denies that unity of the human spirit in which all meu believe ; on the other hand, Pan- theism denies the well-known multiplicity of agents and objects in the universe, asserting that there is one only substance. 4. In view of the history of speculation, the student of theories might even question whether there is any thorough- going system which maintains the reliability of human cog- nitions. At the same time, if he were convinced that there is such a system, he could not refuse it the name Perception- alism. In every scheme of metaphysical philosophy, the theory of knowledge is the fundamental part, and that from which it is most expressively designated. We advocate the name "Perceptionalism," not only on the ground that there is a philosophy which should be known under this title, but also because we believe that the system thus distinguished is likely hereafter to receive more consideration than has been accorded to it heretofore. In ancient times there was no such system. Aristotle asserts that the beginning of all knowledge is that i ' natural power of judgment which is called perception " (Svva/xtv o-v^vrov Kpv- tlktjv rjv kolXovctlv ata-Orja-tv) ; but he did not investigate our first cognitions so as to determine their content and establish their correctness. The Stoics held that alo-Orjo-Ls, or the imme- diate perception of fact, is the origin of knowledge and the criterion of truth; and this same doctrine was taught by the Epicureans. Moreover, both these schools, agreeing with the Aristotelians, declared that man's rational perceptions are reliable ; though they allowed that reason may err, and taught that mistakes in perception are to be attributed, not to the senses, but to judgment, or inference. Both also went farther than the Aristotelians in exalting aiorOrjo-t^ — in this connection signifying specifically presentational perception — as the source of knowledge; with this doctrine, they opposed Platonism on xvi PERCEPTIONALISM. the one hand, and Scepticism on the other. Yet neither the Stoic nor the Epicurean system attained a permanent success ; neither proved sufficient to resist the Neoplatonism and Mys- ticism of the first centuries of the Christian era. In subsequent times, Scholasticism, applying Aristotelian ideas to the doctrines of the Church, showed great dialectic power, but added little to scientific knowledge. Finally, after the theological awakening of the sixteenth century, came the speculative activity of the seventeenth ; and towards the close of the seventeenth century, in the year 1689, John Locke gave to the world the beginning of a great philosophy. 5. Locke founds all knowledge on " experience," and has, therefore, been styled the founder of an "empirical," or asso- ciationalist, philosophy; but erroneously. By "experience" Locke means simply presentational perception, — the aio-Orja-Ls * of Aristotle, and of the Stoics; " sensation and reflection" are the names which he gives to the outward and to the inward modes t>f this perception. Moreover, he teaches that the per- ception of necessary relations occurs in connection with the cognition of simple fact, and is absolutely and objectively intuitive. These initial principles of Perceptionalism were ob- tained by Locke from the critical observation of the phenomena of mind. Yet his "Treatise on Human Understanding," de- fective in the development and yet more in the expression of its thought, did not save the eighteenth century from the Asso- ciationalism of Hartley, the Idealism of Berkeley, and the Scepticism of Hume. In opposition to these destructive theories, the "Essays " of Thomas Reid, the Glasgow professor, were written towards the close of the eighteenth century. In these the natural force of the ordinary convictions of mankind was powerfully directed * Atodrjois with the Greeks referred pre-eminently, but not exclusively, to sense-perception. Aristotle speaks of reason as a higher kind of atoOyo-is ; and also of the moral faculty in the same way. Thus, in his Ethics we read : "Touto irpbs T&Wa £a>a rods 6.vQponrois tdiov, to p.6vov dya8ov teal kclkov Kal BiKatov /cat dSiKov /col raV &A\oov atadrjcriv to which, however, some have ascribed undue importance. The influence of health and of disease upon mental vigor, the effect of severe study or of strong pas- sion on the physical frame, the connection of sensation and of sense-perception with the nervous system, and the general dependence of psychical activity upon the condition of the brain, are topics deserving of earnest consideration. It is only through an investigation of these topics that we can determine those laws by which soul and body are united in one life. At the same time we have the following remarks to make. First, it is clear that no study of physical phenomena can, of itself reveal the phenomena of spirit. No thought, feeling, or desire can be discerned b} T any of the senses. No one has ever seen, touched, or handled these things, or made any ap- proach to doing so. Our knowledge of the relations of soul and body is not founded on a perception of bodily changes alone, but quite as much on our consciousness of mental states and operations. If we were not first cognizant of inward experiences, we never could think of their connection with our outward and corporeal life. A scrutiny of the teachings of consciousness is, Chap. II.] SOURCES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL INFORMATION. 11 therefore, a necessary requisite for the successful prosecution of phrenological or similar studies. Mere anatomical investiga- tions, however skilfully conducted, must be useless, even for those purposes in mental science which they may properly pro- mote, if the questioning of consciousness be carelessly or imper- fectly performed. In the next place, the psychical laws connected with these physical phenomena are not the laws of spirit viewed simply as spirit, or essentially y the}' are only the laws affecting the soul in its connection with the body. The former, which are the more numerous and influential, can be ascertained solely by the questioning of the facts of consciousness as directly or indirectly revealed ; the main work of the mental philosopher has respect to them. The latter — that is, the laws affecting the spirit as embodied — form only a secondary, though important topic of study. Finally, it is to be noticed that, while the more general and fundamental laws of the causal connection between soul and bod}' have been tolerably well ascertained, little has been deter- mined regarding the special modes in which these laws operate. Sense-perception, on the one hand, handling and dissecting the bod}', and consciousness, on the other, reflecting on the soul and its activities, disclose to us two very different objects. Hence we distinguish mind from brain, and from aught else material, as clearly and as easily as we distinguish the coiled electric wire from that subtile agency which lives and works within it. After this, observation and induction show that soul and bod}', through different parts of the nervous system, are continually acting on each other in various ways. But when we ask in what manner brain and mind affect each other, — by what means mental excite- ment may cause cerebral disturbance, and cerebral disturbance mental excitement, — in what way each sensory nerve produces its peculiar and appropriate sensation, — or what may be the several offices of the different ganglia and other portions of the brain, the investigation becomes difficult. The attempt to solve such questions as these has often resulted in discouragement to the patient investigator ; and most of the answers which have been offered to any of them must be regarded as merely conjectures of greater or less probability. We think, therefore, that those commit a mistake who say that certain physiological and anatomical researches are the only or chief sources of psychological knowledge. Such studies of themselves can impart no information as to the mind and its workings. Even when properly conducted they do not disclose any of the essential laws of spirit, but only those affecting the 12 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. II. soul as embodied. And so far as the} T concern specific instru- ments and modes of operation, they have, as } T et, made very moderate progress. At the same time, while rejecting the doc- trine of the dependence of mental philosophy on plrysiological facts or theories, we would not be understood to deny the impor- tance of the specific inquiries already mentioned, nor yet the in- debtedness of psychology to anatomical science for much most valuable information. 4. The beliefs and judgments of our fellow-men are frequently referred to by writers in mental science. These judgments often prove incorrect, and are not always reliable even in matters apparently simple. Yet the consideration of them is a source of assistance to which the true thinker, however self-reliant he may be, constantly and seriously applies. There are two ways in which a reference to the beliefs of men is of prime impor- The value tance in philosophy. In the first place, we ma} T regard and use of these beliefs simply as psycho logical facts, and we iiefe simply may endeavor to ascertain them accurately and to as facts. explain the laws of their formation. It is from this point of view that we begin the work of solving that most fun- damental problem of philosoplry, namely, that of determining those general modes of conviction which, by reason of an innate intellectual necessity, are invariably followed by the human mind. And any law regulating the formation of beliefs and,explain- ing the causes of error or the progress of knowledge can be properly learned onl}' by a critical examination of the facts of experience. The author- Again, the convictions of others are important to itative value the investigator, not simply as facts for stud}', but as ?oii8 h of°oth- opinions endowed with more or less authority. This ers: of men use i s related to the first, but is clearly distinguish- of phiioso- able from it. Veiy diverse estimates have been put phers. both on the views of learned and scientific men and on the beliefs and judgments of men in general. Some have held to the absolute truth of an} T universally entertained opinion. They have asserted, too boldly, that the voice of the people is the voice of God. Others, despising the conceptions of the vulgar, as concerned only with the appearances of things, have ascribed wisdom to philosophers alone. Their doctrine is, that the vision of the real, the true, the eternal, is granted to wise men ; the mass of men see merely the uncertain and transitory, and do not penetrate to the essence of things. The truth is, that within certain limits the convictions of mankind in general should have great authority, while beyond those limits the opinion of the people, as opposed to that of the learned, is of very little weight. Chap. II.] SOURCES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL INFORMATION. 13 Those facts (or phenomena) which are immediately subject to the perception of sense or consciousness can be witnessed as well by the uneducated as by the scientific ; the general testi- mon} T of men concerning such facts must be received without question, provided only that it first be accurately ascertained and understood. We must believe with all men that the world around us exists, and that we exist in it ; that we have bodies gifted with certain powers and capable of certain affections ; and that we have souls, also, which think and feel, resolve and act. These are matters of immediate, as distinguished from discursive or rational, knowledge. Moreover, in such practical affairs as involve questions of advantage and disadvantage which are not complicated, the judgment of communities is commonly correct and wise. Inter- est sharpens the understanding for its own service ; and when questions of profit and loss have been determined b} r the best minds of a communnry according to the teachings of experi- ence and in a wa} 7 satisfactory to all, we can depend confidently on the result. The customs of a country, though sometimes ridiculous in the e} T es of strangers, are generally just what that countiy needs. Travellers bear witness to the sagacity with which the modes of business even of barbarous tribes are adapted to their rude condition. The following is an extract from Dr. Livingstone's account of the Bak wains, who live in the interior of Africa. " In general," he says, " they were slow, like all African people hereafter to be described, in coming to a decision on religious subjects ; but in questions affecting their worldly affairs they were keenly alive to their ow r n interests. They might be called stupid in matters which had not come within the sphere of their observation, but in other things they showed more intelligence than is to be met with in our own uneducated peasantiy. The} T are remarkably accurate in their knowledge of cattle, sheep, and goats, knowing exactly the kind of pasturage suited to each ; and they select with great judgment the varieties of soil best suited to different kinds of grain. Thej 7 are also familiar with the habits of wild animals, and, in general, are well up in the maxims which embocly their ideas of political wisdom." Public opinion, also, should have considerable weight in moral discussions; though, on account of various disturbing causes, it is not so reliable as in cases of interest. In consulting it on a question of duty we should especially inquire whether the conviction be not only general, but also deliberate, disinterested, and enlightened. But, clearly, those rules of right conduct which all men everj'where approve and uphold must be founded on good reasons. 14 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. II. In general, we may say that the farther questions are re- moved from facts of common observation, or from those more evident laws which are little more than the generalization of such facts, the less we can rely upon the utterances of the com- mon voice. Hence the necessit}', when appealing to what has been called "the common sense" of men, of distinguishing between the perception of phenomena and the explanation of them. All men ever} 7 where know of the existence of the sun, moon, and stars, and of their daily and nightly appearance and disappearance. Their testimony as to the existence of these phenomena is reliable. But their judgment regarding the size of the heavenly bodies, and as to the nature of their motions, ma} T be questioned. All men once believed that the sun re- volved around our earth. Those who can accept the views now expressed regarding the convictions of the generality of mankind will probably ap- prove of views, somewhat corresponding to them, concerning the opinions of scientific men. We cannot join with those who despise philosophers as dreamers and theorizers, and who boast " cojHmon sense " and " experience" as their only guides. The vain self-sufficienc}* of such persons should be humbled b} 7 the consideration that almost all the great elements of modern civilization are the offspring of philosophy and science. The implements, the inventions, the usages and laws, the ideas and institutions, which distinguish us from savages, once were the property of only a few thinking men. The material, moral, and political progress of the world depends, under God, on its men of thought and learning. While, therefore, the philosopher is no greater authorit} 7 in matters of fact than his fellow-men, and while his practical judgment is often inferior to that of men in active life, his opinions concerning those questions which he investigates are not to be lightly rejected ; and an} 7 general agreement in the world of philosophy is a very weight}' pre- sumption, indeed, either for or against a doctrine. Who now questions the Newtonian theory of the solar system ? Who doubts the ordinal analyses of chemistry, or statements of geology? And who rejects the explanation of sense-percep- tion, of dreams and fantasies, of general notions, and of the reasoning process, given by psychology ? It is true that even the weightiest of human opinions have only a provisional au- thority, and that no one who can investigate for himself should accept, without examination, the statements of others. But for many this is impossible : the} 7 are otherwise and fully oc- cupied ; their talent lies in some other direction, or the means of research are not at their command. Chap. III.] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 15 Besides, a knowledge of the achievements, and even of the failures, of preceding laborers is indispensable to those who would carry on a work which has already been begun ; so that the philosopher himself, who seeks for independence and origi- nality of view, must study with care the efforts of his predeces- sors. If he do not, in all probability he will neither avoid their mistakes nor equal their attainments. CHAPTER III. PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 1. Objects which possess a common nature may be variously classified according to their agreement and difference in some one or other important respect. This ma} 7 belong either to their internal constitution or to their external relations. Thus man- kind may be classified according to race, or language, or country, or degree of enlightenment, or religious creed, or sex, or age, or occupation. Such classifications are called logical divisions ; and they contribute greatly to clear, s} T stematic, and compre- hensive thought. The study of mental philosophy naturallj- com- mences with some such distinctions. First, let us dioide the poicers of the soul, so as to separate and distinguish the intel- lect from the other powers, and, after that, let us divide the pow- ers of the intellect, so that each of these ma} 7 receive its due attention. The old division of psychical powers into the understanding and the will was that employed b} 7 the philosophers and theolo- gians of the Middle Ages, and perhaps served sufficiently well for their peculiar discussions. Our earlier English writers, also, whose attention was devoted chiefly to the intellectual powers, contented themselves with this division. Locke did so ; and Reicl, the illustrious founder of the Scotch school of philosophy (he lectured in Glasgow during the middle of the eighteenth century), expresses himself thus: " There never has been any division of the powers of the mind proposed which is not liable to considerable objections. We shall therefore take that gen- eral division which is most common, — into the powers of under- standing and those of will." But afterwards, in his second essay on the will, he condemns this division. "Some philosophers," he says, kt represent desire, aversion, hope, fear, joy, sorrow, all our appetites, passions, and affections as different modifica- tions of the will, which I think tends to confound things which 16 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. III. are very different ; " and he remarks that things which have not a common nature should not be confounded under one name. The dissatisfaction thus expressed, being generally felt, re- sulted in that threefold division which is now commonly made. " Our conscious acts or states," sa}'S Dr. Porter, " are separated into the three broad and general divisions of states of knowl- edge, states of feeling, and states of will. To know, to feel, and to choose are the most obviously distinguishable states of the soul. These are referred to three powers, or faculties, which are designated as the intellect, the sensibilhyy, and the will. This threefold division is now universally adopted hy those who accept any division or doctrine of faculties." objections Nevertheless, for several reasons, we cannot regard to the com- this threefold division as sufficient and satisfactory. ion 1 ; 1 1. No " First of all, it seems a serious defect that no separate separate place is allowed in it for the power of sensation, and Diticc tor LllG power of ' that on this account the discussion of the subject of sense. sense is made to fall under the head of intellect. The former of these powers presents objects to the latter, and contributes a stimulus to its exercise ; but they are radically different from each other. The treatment of them together, un- der the same division of thought, favors the materialistic doctrine that intellect is but a modification or development of sense. Sensation is essentially diverse also from that emotional feel- ing which the perception or remembrance of objects often ex- cites ; although, we think, it might as well be classified with emotion as with intellect. It differs greatly, and perhaps equally, from both ; and if this be so, ought not sense to be reckoned an independent power? Secondly, this division makes no distinct place for not^uffi-^ d esire 7 or* using a more comprehensive term, for that cientiy dis- motivity by reason of the exercise of which the spirit from emo- of man seeks various ends. The motivities consti- tion on the tute a marked and important class of pyschical phe- one hand, * . L J . ^ or from ex- nomeiia ; they include the instincts and appetites, the theother. propensities and passions, the affections, and such active principles as self-interest, public spirit, rational benevolence, a sense of dut} T or of justice, and the love of what is right and good. Some authors, as Drs. Upham and Haven, place motive tendencies and emotions together under the head of "sensibilities." Sir William Hamilton, on the other hand, unites will and desire together as the third grand division of spiritual life, and calls them "the exertive faculties." Were a choice necessar}', we would rather classif3 r motivity with will than with the emotional power ; and to this last, exclusively, we Chap. III.] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 17 would assign the term "sensibilit} T ." But we prefer to consider desire, or motivity, as itself an elementary power, which should be distinguished from every other. 3. The will This l ea< ^ s to a third objection. The threefold di- siiouki not vision is professedly a generic classification of our be regarded \_ .-, • aT j i. 1 • i.- as a simple powers, not as these exist and operate in combination, power. b u t as they are seen after an ultimate analysis. In other words, it is given to represent only simple and undefinable elements of our conscious spiritual life. Now, with Brown and Hamilton and other older metaphysicians, we believe that there is something in volition of the nature of motive tendency. At the same time we hold that volition contains more than mo- tivity ; that it is a combination of intellect and motivity under special and modifying conditions. For this reason we cannot regard volition as being a simple and fundamental power, nor even as being a specific form of such a power. Intellect com- prehends sense-perception, consciousness, memory, reasoning, imagination, and so forth, but cannot include volition, deter- mination, or purpose, because, although these last contain an intellectual element, they have also, essentially, a quality not intellectual. In like manner, motivity may be divided into appe- tite, propensity, affection, self-interest, public spirit, and so on, but must be separated from decisions, intentions, and resolu- tions, because these are characterized by a peculiar exercise of the intellect which distinguishes them from mere motivities. Therefore we incline to exclude the will from our radical di- vision of psychical powers, and to treat it as a complex faculty. Yet, if any hold fast to the belief that the will is a simple power, and in its essential part incapable of analysis, this view also leads to a more than threefold division ; for, after sensation, intellect, emotion, and motivhyy, volition would come as the fifth radical mode of conscious life. Again, we object to the common classification that tinctive it does not recognize, as a fundamental power, what exertitoiTor ma y ^ e ca U e d the faculty of exertion, or of action ; action, over- for every exertion is an action when it is successful in accomplishing some result. This power is generally included under that of will. Dr. Haven thus describes "the third form of mental activity : " "Thought and feeling lead to action. I resolve what to do. I lay down my book, and go forth to perform some act prompted by the emotion awakened within me. This power also I have; the faculty of voluntary action, or volition." But we distinguish easily the volition, or determi- nation to act, from the action which we resolve and purpose to do. Intentions and deeds are things radically diverse. 2 18 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. Ill The language of Reid applies here: "Things that have no common nature ought not to be confounded under one name, or represented as different modifications of the same thing." Therefore, among the simple powers of the soul, we would place that of action, or of exertion ; or, to use terms of Hamil- ton's, the exertive, or conative, faculty. But it should be stated that while Hamilton employs this language, he does not specifj r ai^ such power as that now mentioned. He rather identifies desire, volition, and conation, as to their essential nature, by making them the manifestations of the same general power. In our view, these activities, though closely connected with each other, differ radically as to their internal character. 5 The c^ ^ ur conc luding objection has reference to the phe- pabintyof nomena of pleasure and pain, and to the power or and of r pain capability which the mind has of experiencing these should be phenomena. This power has no proper place in the as a funda- common division. It is true that pleasure and pain Sower 1 have not so independent an existence as the other, ac- tivities of mind. Happiness is a kind of aroma which accompanies a well-ordered and well-sustained life ; misery is the effluvium of an ill-regulated life. Nevertheless, these phe- nomena should be distinguished from those which they attend, and especially from those to which they are most intimately related. We object to Hamilton's classification of them with our emotions or sensibilities. The pleasure or pain of an emo- tion should be distinguished from the emotion itself, just as the pleasure or pain of a sensation should be distinguished from the sensation itself. In short, these subtile concomitant modes of experience arise not only from our sensations and emotions, but also from our thinkings, desires, volitions, and actions ; that is, they flow from, and attend, every mode of ps} T chical activity. If, then, we distinguish the experiences of sense and thought, of motive feeling and of exertion, from their attendant pleasures and pains, we certainly should make a similar distinc- tion with reference to emotion. No investigation of psychology is more interesting than that which, commencing with pleasures and pains, goes on to seek the general nature and causes of happiness and misery ; and perhaps none as j 7 et is so undeveloped. Some theories have been proposed to solve its questions, but no doctrine has secured general approbation. The distinction of pleasure and pain from other phenomena, and the recognition of them as hav- ing a nature and laws of their own, are plainfy a necessary con- dition of progress in this important philosophical inquiry. Chap. Ill] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 19 a new di- ^. If the foregoing objections be well founded, they vision pro- call for a new enumeration of the fundamental powers posed. f t ^ e gou ^ Y\ r e p r0 p 0Se the following sixfold di- vision : first, sensation, or sense ; secondly, thought, or intellect ; thirdly, emotion, or sensibility ; fourthly, desire, or motivity ; fifthly, exertion, or conation ; and sixthly, the capability of pleasure and pain. Each of these powers has characteristics of its own. For example, sense is distinguished by its peculiar and inherent dependence upon material excitants and bodily organs. Intellect is the most prominent faculty of spirit, and is the condition of all psychical life, save that of sense only. Emotion is a psychical excitement produced by the perception or thought of some object, and has a correspondence to the na- ture of the object. Motivity is a more active principle than emotion, and is always a tendency towards some end. Exer- tion, or action, is an ability in the exercise of which the soul voluntarily uses the mental and physical powers at her com- mand. And the capability of pleasure and pain is manifested in that peculiar experience, or element of experience, which, under laws of its own, accompanies all the different forms of psychical activity. But here, in order to avoid misconception, let us powers does remark that neither the foregoing nor any other separate-™ division of psychical powers conflicts with the doc- ness of trine of the unity of the soul, or involves the idea that a spirit is composed of parts. Our activities not only belong to the one ego, or self, but they mingle and blend in the formation of one complex life. The}' neither exist nor operate separately ; it is only through philosophical analysis that they can be separately thought of. As a glassful of water ma}- have weight, fluidity, incompressibility, transparency, temperature, and other qualities, without being thereby divided into parts, so the possession of diverse powers is consistent with the fact that the soul is a yet more perfect unit than any material bod} 7 is, or can be. Three divis- ^' Having divided the powers of the soul in general, ions: i. The we turn to the division of the intellect. The ends of the D second- d our study dow require that we should make, not merely ary powers one, but three classifications. of intellect. t-,. t • t *. i • i ji Inrst, we divide our mental powers into the pri- mary and the secondary. This division refers to the natural order of the operation of these powers. We say that thought and belief are the primary powers, because in their exercise intellect accomplishes its ultimate work, that which alone gives importance to all the rest. And we call attention, acquisition, 20 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. III. association, synthesis, analysts, abstraction, and generalization, secondary powers, because their working is simply to modify the operation of the primary powers, and has all its consequence from this fact. Thought and belief, no less than thought, are concerned with things, objects ; whereas the other powers are essentially subjective in their operations, and cause certain modi- fications in our ideas and beliefs. The distinction between conception and conviction, between thought and belief, is clearly marked in the speech and conscious- ness of men, and is of the utmost importance in philosoplry. _ mr . .. A second division of intellect has reference to the phases of mode of the formation of mental states; and it. sets intellect. forth several complex phases of intellectual life, and the capabilities, or faculties, of which these phases are the mani- festation. This division does not arise from so searching an analysis as that just mentioned. It recognizes the fact that certain manifestations of thought and of belief result from cer- tain general causes ; and it leads to the study of the forms of intellectual activity thus produced. These phases are three in number, and may be styled the perceptive, or presentational / the reproductive, or re-presentational ; and the discursive, or rational, phases of intellect. Both thought and belief are exer- cised under each of these modes of intellect ; as are also, though in different degrees, the various secondary powers of mind. The perceptive phase of mental life originates in, and is char- acterized b} T , the immediate cognition of objects. It is sub- divided into sense-perception, consciousness, and concomitant perception ; this last signifying that cognition of relations and the funclamenta of relations, which, without being included in sense- perception and consciousness, is exercised in connection with them. The reproductive phase arises from the repetition or reproduc- tion, by the mind, of the ideas and beliefs of immediate cognition. Its principal forms are the memory, the fantasy, and the imagi- nation. The law according to which our thoughts are reproduced, in whole or in part, is called the law of the association of ideas. The essential and distinguishing mark of the rationed phase of intellect is the exercise of a peculiar degree of penetration and of comprehension. This results from a higher degree of mental power than is possessed by irrational creatures, and is manifested, first, in the precise and thorough cognition and understanding of things, especially of relations and consequences, and, secondly, in connected logical thinking, or, as it has been named, the " dis- course of mind." This second mode of reason differs from the first only in being more deliberate and consecutive : it produces Chap. III.] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 21 the notion, the judgment, and the inference, which, as forms of rational thought, are discussed in logic; for it is only as de- veloped modes of mental action that notions, judgments, and inferences specially belong to the rational phase, or faculty. A third radical distinction in intellect finds its tionaUuui 111 fundamentum divisionis, or principle of division, experiential m i\ ie character of our convictions. It is commonly conviction indicated by the twofold division of the elements of ceptioii Con " our * )eue f — anc * also of the elements of our thought — into the intuitional and the experiential. So far as a piece of knowledge or information is merely historical or matter of fact, it ma} T be called experiential, be- cause it sets forth something that can be originally known only through experience, or the direct cognition of the actual. For example, it is an experiential conviction that there is such a city as New York, and that it contains one million of English- speaking inhabitants. But a conviction which sets forth a thing as necessary or as possible asserts something different from the mere matter of fact. We now say that something must be, or ma}* be," because something else is known to be ; and so we Mntroduce the necessary relations of existence, and what are called our necessarj- beliefs. Thus it is necessaiy that New York, being a large cit}~, should not only be located somewhere, but should also occup} T a considerable territoiy ; and it is con- ceivable or possible that its inhabitants, being all human beings, should learn to speak some other language than English. Again, it is an experiential judgment that I am now writing with a pen, but it is a necessaiy judgment that I must use some instrument in order to write, or that I might use a pencil instead of a pen ; for, from the nature of the case, one of these things is neces- saiy and the other possible. Judgments of possibility may, of course, be dis- perceived 7 tinguislied from those of necesshy, but for our pres- inmition- e nt purpose we must regard both as --necessary" judgments; and this, too, in a peculiar sense. In one sense all beliefs are necessary ; the}' are the inevitable re- sult of the exercise of certain faculties. Now, however, we speak of those convictions which are not mere perceptions of fact, but which, being based on a consideration of the necessary relations of things, assert this or that to be necessarily true. In this sense a postulate, which asserts a thing to be possible, is a necessary judgment no less than an axiom, which asserts a thing to be necessaiy. Though philosophers differ as to the ultimate origin and ground of these necessary convictions, it is quite evident that we constantly form and use them. 22 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. III. That school which teaches that our first cognitions of the necessit} 7 and of the possibility of the existence of things are direct and reliable perceptions, are called Intuitionalists, because they believe in a direct intuition of necessary truth. We pre- fer their doctrine especially to that of the Associationalists, who do not make a sufficient difference between the assertion of a necessary consequence and a mere historical statement. As we have direct cognition of matters of fact, as well as of things necessary, there may be a question as to the propriety of confining the term " intuition" to the immediate perception of necessary truth. But language has been employed in this way ; so that now an intuitional, especially as contrasted with an experiential, perception signifies the immediate cognition of some truth or fact as necessary. The distinction between intuitional and experiential judg- ments or cognitions is not a difficult one. Even when we recog- nize something both to be fact and to be necessary fact, we can easily separate the two elements of conviction. Letting a bullet fall to the floor, we perceive both the fact of the fall, and that it falls necessarily, by reason of some cause. In like manner we can see, simply as facts, that two bullets are equal in weight to each other, and that each of them is equal in weight to a third bullet ; and we can also see that the two bullets, being each equal to a third bullet in weight, must be equal in weight to each other. The onto- There is, however, another distinction, closely re- logicai and lated to the foregoing, which cannot be understood caf elements without careful consideration. It does not pertain to of concep- our convictions directly, but to our ideas or concep- tions as these are employed in our convictions. When we examine any historical or merely matter-of-fact state- ment, we find that our belief in the truth of it is not specially connected with any one part of its thought more than another, but, on the contrary, is related alike to the whole thought. Such is the case when we simply perceive the weight and fall of the bullet, or when we see that three groups of three bullets each are, simply as a matter of fact, equal in number to a single group of nine bullets. When, however, we examine any specific state- ment that is necessarily true, — that is, which sets forth some- thing as existing necessarily or possibly, — we discover that its peculiar force does not arise in connection with the whole of our thought, but only in connection with a certain portion of it. When we say that the unsupported bullet must fall because of its weight, the force of this statement does not depend on the special nature of the bullet and its weight, but on the fact that Chap. III.] PRIMARY CLASSIFICATIONS. 23 the leaden ball is a substance endowed with a certain power, or tendenc}*, and on the general principle that any substance en- dowed with any tendency necessarily exerts that tendency under conditions which may be ascertained. In other words, we see that power, under proper conditions, must operate. And, see- ing the bullet fall a second time, we not only perceive that a similar event has occurred, but we say that it must have oc- curred, on the general principle that substances exert their 'potencies in the same way under a repetition of the same con- ditions. In short, analysis shows that these judgments concern- ing the necessary fall of bullets do not depend for their peculiar force on the whole nature of the objects considered, but only on the character of the objects as substances endowed with tenden- cies to certain fixed modes of operation. So, also, when we say that three given groups of bullets of three each are necessarily equal to a single group of nine, this does not depend on the fact that the}' are leaden balls, but only on the fact that they are individual things ; for any three groups of three things each would be collectively equal to a group of nine. Such being the case, it is possible to discard from specific statements of necessity those elements of thought on which their necessity does not depend ; accordingly, in this way, the axioms and pos- tulates of algebra and geometry and the other sciences have been formulated. Now, when the conceptions employed in these general modes of necessary conviction are examined, they are found to be com- paratively few and simple. They are such thoughts as those of existence and non-existence, of necessity and possibility, of space, time, quantity, and relations, of substance, power, action, and alteration. It is observed, too, that although these abstract ideas are themselves distinct notions, 3-et, with reference to our ordinary thinkings, they may be styled elements of thought, because they enter into the composition of all our ordinary con- ceptions. And the remaining portions of our ideas ma} T still more appropriately be named elements, because we never natu- rally employ them in abstract and separate thought, but use them in their combination with those few fundamental concep- tions which relate immediately to the general nature and laws of being. Those parts of our thinking on which our necessitudinal, or intuitional, convictions depend might be stj'led, collectively, the intuitional element of thought ; while the remaining parts, taken together, might be called the experiential element. But we should note that this distinction is not coincident with that between intuitional and experiential beliefs or convic- 24 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IV. tions ; for an intuitional conviction, though it does not depend on experiential thought, can make use of it, as in the case of the necessary fall of the bullet ; and experiential convictions, likewise, use those elements of conception on which the force of intuitions depends, as well as those whose employment in asser- tions depends peculiarly on experience. This may be seen in illustrations similar to those which have been given. CHAPTER IV. SENSE AND ITS RELATIONS. The word 1- The word " sense," being derived from the "sense." Latin sentio, originally signified either feeling or the perception that accompanies feeling. The latter meaning appears in such expressions as a sense of danger or of impro- priety, and when we speak of a sensible man, or of a man of good sense. In modern ps}'chology, however, this term, when used alone, has generally been confined in its application to our bodily feelings, as distinguished from the perceptions formed in connection with them. Moreover, as the word "sensation" indicates the exercise of these feelings, the name " sense" may very properly be restricted to our power of having them. When sensations are styled bodily feelings, the psychical expression refers to their source rather than to their power, and nature ; for the power of sense belongs to the soul, sin gen , ^^ ^^ ^ ^ e body. As the soul uses the organs of locomotion, but is different from them, so it is affected by the organs of sense, and is different from them. Sensation, it is true, belongs to the soul only as embodied ; it is conditioned upon certain corporeal or nervous changes, but it is to be distin- guished from these changes. In itself, it is purely psychical. This power is not to be confounded with any other power of the exercise of which our spirits are conscious. Especially we should observe that sense is not intellect. Sensation and thought are things radically unlike. Who cannot distinguish the pain of a cut ringer or a burnt hand from the thought of these things, or the satisfaction of a refreshing draught or a comfortable meal from the mere conception of these objects as matters of unrealized desire? Therefore, separating sensation on the one hand from corporeal affections, we separate it on the other from all the higher activities of spirit. Chap. IV.] SENSE AND ITS RELATIONS. 25 2. Although sense is radically diverse from intel- tionsof lect, it has intimate relations with the latter power, intellect- * n tae m ' sfc P^ ace ' sensation, or the exercise of sense, 1. The is a natural excitant and occasion of the exercise excitant. ^ intellect. As the power of ignition and illumina- tion which resides in the lucifer match is called into exercise by that rough rubbing which is followed by the flash of light, so the soul, on the occasion of the coarse experience of sense, awakens to the higher experience of thought. The opinion, too, seems well founded that our first intellectual activity is excited 03- the first sensations of the infant spirit. These views were well expressed b} r Patricius (an old writer, quoted b} T Ham- ilton), when he called the senses the "exordium," or starting- point, of knowledge. u Cognitio omnis," he says, ''a mente primam originem; a sensibus exordium habet primum." 2. The ob- But sensation is more than the excitant of thought; ject. it is also, and at the same time, an important ob- ject of thought. For the mind, while perceiving its own sen- sations, is gifted besides with the power of perceiving certain relations and correlates of these sensations ; and this is the origin of our knowledge of the external world. The intellect, acting upon and in conjunction with the experiences of sense, discerns the existence and the nature of material objects, and so from small beginnings ascends to the contemplation of the universe. The discussion of the relation of our knowledge of our own sensations to our knowledge of the material creation forms an important chapter in the philosophy of mind. 3. The in- Finally, the power of sense is employed by the in- strument, tellect as an instrument of inquiry and of guidance. We increase our knowledge of material existences through the intelligent use of the senses ; and we direct our bodily actions by the information obtained through them. The high- est of the physical sciences, such as geology and astronomy, are dependent on sensation for the ascertainment of their facts ; and the most exquisite of the arts, such as painting, music, and sculpture, seek guidance for their delicate move- ments from the same source. B} r sense also we are qualified for the ennobling faculty of speech. Because of these several functions — as the excitant, as the object, and as the instrument of intellectual activity — the power of sensation has always occupied a prominent place in discus- sions concerning thought. Sense de- Sense is a simple power, — that is, it is distin- fined. guished from our other ps} T chical endowments by an incomplex peculiarity ; therefore also, like intellect, it does 26 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IV. not admit of analytical definition. Yet every important con- ception in philosophy, however simple it ma} T be and incapa- ble of description, can and should be determined circumstan- tially, or by means of its more prominent relations. If a number of balls hung in air, each of which was precisely simi- lar to the others in size and shape, but possessed of a shade of color peculiar and unlike any color to be found elsewhere, we could not describe these balls severally to one who had never seen them. But we might determine the bearings of each ball from various fixed points of observation, and in this wa}' we could indicate the place of its existence, and make it the object of intelligent apprehension. So it is not sufficient to say that such or such an object, being simple, cannot be defined ; we should endeavor to show its distinguishing rela- tions. This mode of defining, or, more strictly speaking, of determining, a conception is equally satisfactory, and should be considered equally logical, with that which results from analysis. It sufficiently defines sense to say that it is a power the exercise of which is immediately consequent upon a cor- poreal affection, and which, though not thought, is related to thought, as has been already described. Sense di- Commonly we hear of five senses, — taste, smell, vided. hearing, touch, and sight. Philosophical discrimi- nation adds to these at least two others, — the organic and the muscular. The marked peculiarit} T of the five first-named is, that their bodily organs, being evidently constructed for their use, are easily perceived and distinguished. Muscular feelings are those internally accompanying muscular movements. They are the least varied of all, but they admit of a delicate mental estimate of the quantity of sensation ; and this enables us to measure the amount of muscular power employed or of physical force counteracted. The sensations experienced in one's opening his fingers or raising his hand, in lifting a weight or stopping a moving bod}', in resisting the flow of a stream of water or the violence of an excited animal, in exerting one's self in airy plrysical labor, — in short, all sensations of corporeal effort and opposition, — belong to this class. On the other hand, our organic sensations, which are those connected with our various bodily functions other than that of muscular movement, contain many specific classes. The}', and indeed all our corporeal feelings, may be divided into the ordi- nary and the extraordinary, — that is, those experienced during bodily soundness and health and those felt during bodily injury or disease. Some of them are more localized than others. Chap. IV.] SENSE AND ITS RELATIONS. 27 Hunger, thirst, sleepiness, weariness, aches, pains, and the various feelings of sickness, together with the pleasant sensa- tions experienced when we are relieved of any suffering or dis- tress, are forms of organic sensation. To these we may add the feelings of heat and cold, and that of pressure, as when the hand lies on a table beneath a weight. As some of these expe- riences take place throughout the whole body, while no set of nerves is known to be specially devoted to their production, every part of the sensory s}'stem alike may be regarded as their organ ; but this is pre-eminently true of those feelings of exhil- aration and of depression resulting from bodily vigor or debility. The famous orator Charles James Fox, as he inhaled the morn- ing air and looked abroad on the freshness of Nature, was wont to exclaim, " What a glorious thing it is to live ! " And these words seem to have been chiefly prompted by a sense of that exuberant vitality and vigor which pervaded the bodily organi- zation of that great man. The " sen- If the foregoing statements be correct, it is evi- sorium." ^ en {- £ na £ tne p 0wer f se nse is diffused through- out the whole body. Some bodily growths, it is true, — as the hair, the nails, the outer cuticle, and part of the bones, — are void of sensation. But these are a small fraction of our physical person, and, through sensations of the adjacent and surrounding portions, they are brought practically within the sphere of sense. Eveiy other part of the body is so minutely pervaded with muscular and organic sensations that the power of sense may be said to occup}' our whole frame. The boclv, thus considered as the place throughout whose limits the soul is sentient, is called the " sensorium." This term, formed after the analogy of " dormitorium," " oratorium," and such words, which mean the places of sleeping, of prayer, and of other uses, signifies the place, or local organ, of sensation. More correctly speaking, that system of sensitive nerves, cen- tring in the brain and minutely pervading the body, should be styled the sensorium ; for we have no feeling save so far as some nerve may be touched or excited, and the destruction or paraly- sis of a nerve destroys also the possibility of the sensation connected with it. Theimme- **• This brings us to consider the cause or imme- diate cause diate condition of the exercise of the power of sense. of sensation. T % » .■%_ j. • r, . ■, Long before the discoveries of anatomy, men knew that sensations resulted from affections of the bod3 T . The soul by an immediate perception attributes sensation to itself; but it perceives also that every sensation is occasioned b} 7 some- thing not itself. When one's finger is burned, or even when one 28 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IV. suffers toothache, he needs no proof that he himself feels the pain, and he also is able to understand that the scorching fire or the deca3'ing tooth is the cause of his experience ; for in all such cases we find no occasion for the sensation in the preced- ing experience of the soul, yet we know that it must have some carike. Looking for this elsewhere, and discerning the peculiar affections of each bodily part, we soon find in these the inva- riable and necessaiy antecedents, and therefore also regard them as the occasions or causes of our sensations. We are assisted, moreover, to this conclusion b\ T a peculiar power of judgment whereby the mind discerns the place of its sensations as existing with reference to each other in different parts of the sensorium. We naturally look for the cause where we may have found the effect. Hence we unhesitatingly place the experience, and the occasion, of the sensation of sight in the eye, those of the sensation of smell in the nostrils, those of hearing in the ear, and those of touch in the hands and in other parts of the surface of the bodj\ We also confidently locate a headache or toothache or other internal pain, and ascribe it t© some local corporeal affection. Th natur Anatomical researches have thrown much light on of nervous this subject. They show that a certain class of nerves known. 1111 " are th e seai °f those bodily affections which produce sensation. Moreover, inasmuch as all physical changes appear to involve motion, the opinion seems reasonable that motion of some kind is produced in the nerves by the action of their appropriate excitants ; and that this motion, in some waj', is the occasion of sensation. But nothing has ever been deter- mined as to the nature of this motion, nor, indeed, as to any ele- ment of that physical change which must precede the psjxhical experience. Those theories which speak of the movements of a subtile fluid, of the vibration of fibres or filaments, and of the action of molecules, must be regarded as merely scientific con- jectures. The general and important fact, however, is beyond question that the cause of sensation is in the nerves. The saying ^ ^ s a ^ so clear that some physical body or agent of Democ- must directly or indirectly affect our nerves before ritus sensation can take place. The senses of sight and hearing present no exception to this statement, although their less immediate but more noticeable objects may be at a dis- tance. The vibrations of light affect the optic nerve, and those of a sonoriferous medium the auricular, before we hear or see. This truth, centuries ago and in the infancy of philosophy, was emphasized by Democritus ; at a time, too, when his statement must have appeared paradoxical. " All the senses ," said he, Chap. IV.] SENSE AND ITS RELATIONS. 29 " are but modifications of touch" — a statement which cannot be accepted literally, }*et is true in this modified sense, that some physical agent must affect some nerve before an\ T sensation can be experienced. If there be am' exception to the law thus an- nounced, it is an exception which confirms the rule. Speculative The doctrine that sensation is the result of nervous difficulties, action may seem too simple and evident to have ever been the occasion of difficulty. Yet perhaps no questions have more perplexed philosophers than those relating to the causal connection between body and soul. " Has matter any power to affect mind?''' " Has mind any power to affect matter?" are inquiries over which able thinkers have been sorely tried. The principal obstacles which have prevented maiTy from a perception of the truth have been two speculative convictions which have prevailed extensively. The first First, it has been held that material objects can difficulty, come into contact only with material objects. In the words of the ancient poet, " Tangere enim et tangi, nisi corpus, nulla potest res." We accept this utterance as probably true in the sense that matter cannot affect mind in the same way as it affects other matter. In this sense a spirit is intangible. The properties of mind, so far as we know them, are so different from those of body, so far as we know them, that it would be unreasonable to suppose that the latter could affect the former just as it would a substance of its own nature. If either can operate on the other, we must expect the result to be quite different from any affection properly incident to the nature of the operating agent ; for when two objects are diverse in character, the} T are inca- pable, to the extent of that diversit} r , of being acted upon in the same way. Therefore we hold that matter cannot come into collision with spirit as it can with other matter. We would as soon expect a collision between the atmosphere which surrounds our globe and the light of day which pervades the atmosphere. Spirit cannot be touched as we touch material objects with our hands. At the same time it seems evident that mind can be placed to a considerable extent under the operation of a material bod}^ The soul during the present life dwells within the body ; wher- ever the latter may be conveyed or confined, there the former is carried and imprisoned likewise. If the body can thus enclose the spirit, and bear it wherever it may itself be borne, may it not also in other wa}'s affect its inhabitant? Indeed, has not the common sense of men good reason to affirm that it does? 30 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap IV. The second The second conviction from which speculative dif- difficuity. ficulties have resulted, refers, not to the general na- ture of spirit, but to a specific characteristic. It is held that the soul is unextended, and we are asked, "How can matter, the extended substance, have any causal connection with mind, a substance devoid of extension ? " The argument runs thus : "Nothing can touch and be touched but what is extended : and if the soul be unextended, it can have no connection by touch with the body : the physical influence, therefore, is inconceivable and impossible." This reasoning, in which, however, the word " touch " signifies merely juxtaposition in space, implies the truth of two statements : first, that an unextended substance cannot affect, or be affected by, an extended substance ; and secondly, that the soul is an unextended substance. The first of these statements, we think, may be accepted as correct, if by an unextended substance we mean one which does not in any way pervade or occupy space ; for a substance which absolutely does not occupy or pervade any portion of space is inconceivable. We may conceive of a substance pervading space in such a way as not to interfere with the occupancy of the same space by other substances of a coarser nature ; but no substance could exist without any room at all. Not even the most insignificant soul could exist within a mathematical point. If, therefore, by an unextended substance we are to understand one which has no relations to space save those of position only, then we not merely admit that such an object could not be affected by material changes, but we deiry that either the soul or anything else is a substance of this character. In short, we reject the view of Descartes and man}' other learned men, that spirits do not in any sense occupy space, and incline to the belief that the soul, in some subtile way, pervades and possesses the sen- sory system. 4. We have no reason to suppose that the soul has a simple shape and parts like the bod} 7 , or even that it is a com- wWchper- P os ite substance. The probable opinion is, that it is vadesthe a simple substance endowed throughout with various Aristot"e m ' powers, and that, if not always present, it is capable Early Chris- f becoming instantly present, either successively or simultaneous!}', at different points of the sensorium, as these may be acted on by material agents. The soul certainly seems to exercise, in that part of the body which may be affected, that mode of sensation which corresponds to the peculiar action of the nerves of that part. But, possibly, in times of quiescence or of sleep, the spiritual substance may retire wholly to (he brain. Chap. IV.] SEXSE AXD ITS RELATIONS. 31 The doctrine of the pervading presence of the soul was taught by Aristotle, who held that the soul is all (that is. with all its powers), in every part of the body. This was also the view commonly entertained in the early days of Christianity. The epistle to Diognetus — an eloquent letter, probably written by Justin Martyr, but certainly addressed by some eminent Chris- tian in the first or second century to an equally eminent pagan — contains the following passage: ••That." says the author, M which the soul is in the body, the same are Christians in the world ; for the soul is diffused through all the members of the body, and Christians through all the states of the world. The soul dwells, indeed, in the body, but is not of the body ; and Christians dwell in the world, but are not of the world." The prevalence, in modern times, of the opinion ^t3ne?' that the soul does not occupy space, may be traced to thesmiun- ^ e ^ritin2:s of Rene Descartes, who, in the second 6X*cII led ^ quarter of the seventeenth century, revolted against the traditional dogmas of the Middle Ages, and formed for him- self a new philosophy. One of his favorite doctrines was that the essence of matter is extension, and that the essence of the mind is thought. — that matter is the extended unthinking substance, and that mind is the thinking unextended substance. This doctrine was incorporated into the philosophy of Europe, and has been maintained as the proper opposite of materialism. The influence of it is apparent in the earlier teachings of the Scotch school. For example. Dr. Thomas Reid. one hundred years after Descartes, ridicules the idea that one's mind can be present in his toe. so as to feel pain there. " Philosophers." he says, "have disputed much about the place of the mind, yet none of them ever placed it in the toe." Though Descartes maintained that the soul can exist without being extended, he allowed that it must have a place or location. He supposed that it resides in the pineal gland, a small gland in the centre of the brain. His followers, also, endeavored to account for a fact which he himself did not admit, namely, that the soul and body directly influence each other. •• The soul." said they. " may be compared to a spider seated in the centre of its web. The moment the least agitation is caused at the extremity of this web. the insect is advertised, and put upon the watch. In like manner the mind, situated in the brain, has a point on which all the nervous filaments converge ; it is in- formed of what passes at the different parts of the body, and forthwith it takes its measures accordingly. The body thus acts with a real efficiency on the mind, and the mind acts with a real efficiency on the body." 32 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IV. The tendency, of late j-ears, has been to return to the ancient belief in the spacialit}' of spirit. Sir William Hamilton, though confessing himself in perplexity, annotates on Reid as follows : " Both in ancient and modern times the opinion has been held that mind has as much a local presence in the toe as in the head. The doctrine long generallj T maintained was that, in relation to the body, the soul is all in the whole, and all in every part. . . . The first condition of the possibility of an immediate, intuitive, or real, perception of external things, which our consciousness assures us that we possess, is the immediate connection of the cognitive principle with every part of the corporeal organism. . . . That the pain is where it is felt, is the doctrine of common sense. We only feel inasmuch as we have a body and a soul ; we only feel pain in the toe inasmuch as we have such a mem- ber, and inasmuch as the mind, or sentient principle, pervades it. We just as much feel in the toe as we think in the head." President Porter, also, expresses himself in similar terms. , The view of Hamilton and Porter involves that not ingofHam- merely the feeling, but also the initial or primary Port r™ 1 perception of it, takes place where the bodily affec- tion occurs. At the same time this cognition, though as local as the sensation, is, of itself, extremely indefinite. It is perhaps the lowest possible form of intellectual action. The completed and measured estimate of the distances and direc- tion of sensations from one another, and the exact determina- tion of the places of feelings with reference to the parts of the body, are judgments which follow upon the comparison and construing together of the primary perceptions of the sensa- tions / and the formation of these definite judgments requires some time and experience. Moreover, the mind, while the body is yet whole, having used these secondary judgments and found them trustworthy, adopts them as rules of belief in regard to all sensations which may take place in the same general region or direction ; and the habit of conclusion thus formed is not easily laid aside. This may explain the fact that after the amputation of a limb, it is often difficult for one to realize that he has lost a hand or a foot. With some individuals the tendency to erroneous judg ment does not remain long ; with others it lasts for years. Chap. V.] EFFICIENCY PRODUCING SENSATION. 33 CHAPTER V. THE EFFICIENCY PRODUCING SENSATION. 1 . Sir William Hamilton, in the sixteenth lecture of his meta- physical course, shows what difficulties have arisen in philosophy concerning the causal connection between soul and bod}*, and confesses that he himself, having failed of a satisfactory solution, had resolved to rest in a " contented ignorance." Before fur- ther discussion in regard to this connection, it may be instruc- tive to consider briefly the strange hypotheses which those were driven to adopt who, for various reasons, believed that neither agent can directly act upon the other. Beside the ancient Aris- totelian doctrine of direct influence, which we regard as the correct view, three hypotheses have been devised. The plastic The first of these, in point of time, was the hy- medium. pothesis of the plastic medium. It is to be traced to Plato, who teaches --that the soul employs the bod}* as its instrument ; but that the energ}*, or life and sense, of the body is the manifestation of a different substance, — of a substance which holds a kind of intermediate existence between mind and matter." The Alexandrian Platonists specially elaborated this idea; and " in their ps}*chology, the oxos, or vehicle of the soul, the medium through which it is united to the body, is a promi- nent and distinctive principle." Saint Augustine inclined to this view ; and it has been adopted by some eminent modern philosophers. Occasional The second lrypothesis is that of occasional causes, causes. "gy ail occasional cause is meant a cause which is only the occasion of some effect, and which does not contrib- ute at all to the effieienc}* producing the effect. This theory is also named the lrypothesis of divine assistance, because God is regarded as the real* causal agent between mind and body. According to this view, " the brain does not act immediately and really upon the soul ; the soul has no direct cognizance of any modification of the brain. This is impossible. God himself, by a law which he has established, when movements are deter- mined in the brain, produces analogous modifications in the conscious mind. In like manner, in case the mind has a voli- tion to move the arm, this volition of itself would be ineffica- cious ; but God, in virtue of the same law, causes the answering motion in the limb. The bod}*, therefore, is not the real cause 3 34 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. V. of the mental modifications, nor the mind the real cause of the bodily movements." This doctrine was first advocated by Male- branche and other followers of Descartes ; Dr. Reid inclined to it, and it was maintained by Professor Stewart. Pre-estab- The third hypothesis, which is the most curious Hsiied har- of all, is that of predetermined harmon}'. It was mony ' originated b} r Leibnitz. According to it, soul and body have no communication, no mutual influence. k 'The soul passes from one state to another by virtue of its own na- ture. The body executes the series of its movements without airy participation or interference of the soul in these. The soul and body are like two clocks, accurately regulated, which point to the same hour and minute, although the spring which moves the one is not that which moves the other. This har- mony was established before the creation of man, and hence is called the pre-established or predetermined harmon}\" We object to all these theories, that they are mere hypotheses devised to meet a difficulty which originates in mistaken views, and that the}' are devoid of support save such as can be found from their fitness for that end. We can find no evidence of any medium of communication between soul and bod} r , or of any divine interference to produce sensations and carr}' out voli- tions, or of that marvellous foreordained correspondence be- tween corporeal changes and the life of the soul. On the contrary, both our natural convictions and our critical obser- vations indicate that we actually are influenced b} T affections of the body. The mind refers its sensations to antecedents immediately present, yet outside of itself; our veiy concep- tions of the sensible qualities and changes of matter are essen- tially conceptions of the causes of various forms of sensation as related to these effects, and we intuitively ascribe efficiency to these causes. Our sensations, therefore, are perceived as really resulting from the body and things affecting the body. When we handle a stone, its weight, hardness, roughness, and coldness are real causes producing effects corresponding to them in us. All this we firmly believe till confused b} T some philosophical subtihry. Let us remember that difficulties on this subject have resulted simply from an undue contrasting of mind and matter, of soul and body, as things different in na- ture, and we shall have no trouble in accepting the teachings of intuition. These two substances differ, perhaps, as far as sub- stances can differ, but not so far as to be incapable of mutual influence. This whole subject brings before us one of those fre- quently recurring cases in which the best philosophy is found to accord with the ordinary convictions of mankind. Chap. V.] EFFICIENCY PRODUCING SENSATION. 35 Three possi- 2. Accepting the view that sensations are occa- bie theories. s i necl by corporeal affections, we have yet to choose between several theories respecting the efficicnc3 T producing sensation. First, it has been taught that the power producing sensation is exercised wholly by the bod}', and that the soul is wholly pas- sive. When lightning tears open the roof of some building, or the electric spark pierces the paper subjected to its passage, the roof or the paper does not actively contribute to the result. A stone flung into the air does not originate an} T of the force by which it is propelled ; it is entirely recipient and devoid of exertion. So the soul might be considered wholly passive in sensation ; it might be likened to a placid lifeless pool whose rippling motions are made b}~ the breezes only. Again, it has been contended that the efficienc}* producing sensation resides wholly in the soul, and does not rise at all from the affections of our sensoiy system. When a child becomes interested in some pretty toy and seeks it, the toy cannot be supposed to be the efficient cause of the excitement of the child's desires. These, indeed, without the view of the toy, could not have arisen ; but the whole power in the case be- longs to the infantile soul itself. As, therefore, the intellect and the motivities of man act with an efficienc}* independent of their objects, so, it is argued, the power of sense acts without an}* external stimulus, and simply on the occasion of changes in the nerves. Finally, it may be conjectured that the efficiency producing sensation belongs partly to the body and partly to the mind. When a blow discharges a percussion cap, the effect depends on the detonating powder quite as much as on the force of the blow. So, when a vessel of water at a low temperature and perfectly still, is shaken a little, it immediately turns to ice ; and when certain solutions are mingled, they effervesce and form new compounds. In these cases the shaking and the mingling do not produce the effect so much as other causes which these bring into play. The question, therefore, suggests itself, whether our sensations, even though efficiently caused by bodily affections, are not also due partly to the active power of the soul. Of these theories we prefer the last. We incline to cause of sen- the opinion that the efficient cause of sensation does sation is no £ belong exclusively either to the body or to the twofold. . o. ? 77.7 7 mind, but is a combination, partly physical, partly spiritual. The motion of the bow of the violin produces that of the string, yet only in part ; the tightness and elastichVy of the string contribute. So nervous changes affect the mind ; C6 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. V. while yet this affection is not purely passive, but results also in part from a power of action belonging to the soul itself. Partly ex- That sensation is truly caused by physical changes ternai and is implied in those natural judgments which men physica continually make. We say that the wind makes us cold, that the fire warms us, that sound affects our ears, scent our nostrils, light our eyes, and so forth. Thus we refer these feelings to various physical causes, which act upon our bodily frame, and upon our souls as inhabiting the body. We also make an important distinction between what is merely an object of cognition and what is a cause of sensation. In cognition, the activity and its causation are regarded as wholly mental ; in sensation, the prominent efficiency presented in perceptive thought is physical. These natural judgments accord with critical inquiry. A scrutiny of the conditions of sensation easily produces instances in which no other antecedent can be found than some affection of the nervous system. Moreover, the re- searches of anatomy and surgery show, to a demonstration, on what branches and filaments of the sensor}- system our bodily feelings severally depend. In short, no fact of plrysical science is more certain than this, which belongs to mental science also, that sensation results from an excitement of the nerves. At the same time some considerations support the belief that the soul is not icholly passive in sensation, but that it exercises an efficiency of its own. This is suggested by the analogy of our other ternaf and psychical operations. In- thought, sensibility, de- psychicai: sire, and action, man is conscious of self-activity. the analogy He perceives that each of these modes of experi- of our other ence has no causal antecedents other than psychical, powers . A *' and can be ascribed to no efficiency other than that belonging to the soul itself. He therefore regards them as coming from a spring within. External objects may inter- rupt and modify the current of mental life, but the}' are not necessary to its continuance. The soul, once aroused to move- ment, lives on with an activity perpetual and inherent. Moreover, although, during man's earthly existence, his psychi- cal experience has been made dependent on bodily conditions, there is no evidence that it originates from them. On the contrary, easily distinguishing the spiritual activities, of which he is con- scious, from all physical phenomena, man intuitively recognizes these activities and their powers as belonging not to his body, but to a substance other than his bod}', — that is, to his true self, or spirit ; and so, as we have said, he regards the soul as self- active, because the greater and essential part of its experience, Chap. V.] EFFICIENCY PRODUCING SENSATION. 37 however dependent upon corporeal conditions, is perceived to originate, not from them, but from the soul itself. If every other ps}~chical experience ma}" be thus traced to the working of some inward power, may not sensation, likewise, be considered as resulting, in part at least, from the soul's own aetivit}" ? To this conclusion we are led, also, b}^ the following ofti^ e pecu- consideration. When one substance acts on another Jj*™*! ? which is perfectly passive, the effect is of the same general character with the action hy which it is caused. One stone, for example, striking another, transmits its own mo- tion and nothing more. But when the effect is of a new and peculiar character, ice find the cause %>artly also in the sub- stance affected. The cause of the explosion of the percussion cap is found more in the detonating powder than in the blow ; and the new compound from mixed fluids results more from chemical affinities than from the commingling. Now the nature of sensation, like that of our other ps}~chical experiences, is revealed to us through consciousness, without which power we could not have the remotest conception of spiritual things ; and we know that sensation is something extremely dissimilar to plrysical changes of any kind, so much so that we can scarcely compare it with them in any way. What likeness does any material process bear to the pain of toothache or of rheumatism, and what chemical or mechanical operation can be compared to the satisfaction of hunger or the gratification of taste ? Some- times we describe a sensation by mentioning the physical action bj T which it ma}" be produced, — as, for example, the sensation of being struck or cut or burned, — but we distinguish the out- ward action and the inward experience as being very different. Some generic likeness, perhaps, can be found in sensations to other and higher feelings with which pain and pleasure are also specially connected, such as J03", sorrow, hope, fear, love, hatred ; but we can discover no resemblance in them to an} T physical phenomena. Such being the case, it is reasonable to believe that sense is not merely a capachVv, but a capability ; and that the mind, the substance in which sense inheres, itself con- tributes to the efficiency producing sensation. 3. Because Finally, the activit} T of the soul in sensation is sug- of certain gested by certain reactions of mental upon physical reactions of f> y , ... r r J mind on hie, which result in bodil}' feelings more or less ody ' defined. In certain exceptional cases, which can be easily distinguished, sensations seem to originate from ps3"chi- cal efficiencj", no external excitant being present ; for exam- ple, purely intellectual feelings — that is, those emotions which result from thought and which are not the consequence of 38 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. V. bodily changes — are sometimes accompanied with sensations. Surprise causes a startling sensation ; disappointment, a sinking feeling in the breast ; fear produces chilliness. In short, cor- poreal feelings generally attend any violent mental disturbance. Here it may be objected that, in such cases, sensation is not directly produced by psychical efficiency, but only- indirectly and through an affection of the nerves. Possibly this may be so ; such instances certainty evince that the soul can act on the sensorium as well as the sensorium on the soul. It ma}*, however, be more to our present purpose to remark that imaginative ideas in dreaming, and even in wakeful hours, sometimes cause sensations, as if some reality had taken place ; and the sensations thus excited seem also to produce nervous changes, such as at other times produce them. The order of cau- sation appears to be reversed. Instead of nervous change, sen- sation, thought, we have thought, sensation, nervous change. In dreams, especially, our sensations often appear to be more than mere imaginings ; we experience, though in feeble measure, the pains and pleasures of real life. How often, too, we meet with tehose who assert that they have heard the voices or seen the faces of absent friends, themselves creating what they hear or see ! Various experiments may illustrate this power of the mind to originate its own sensations. Should a sharp needle be directed towards the middle of one's forehead, and advanced steadily, a singular feeling is experienced, at least by nervous people, at the place where the point of the needle is expected. This must result from the mind's own activity. Moreover, the soul, when specialty interested, appears to have the power of adding to the natural keenness of an}* sense. When we listen or gaze, or even touch, taste, or smell, attentively, new delicac}' is given to the organ. It is said to be innervated ; and this innervation is probably an increase of that efficiency which the soul exercises in sensation, and is similar to the increase which special interest and effort produce in the energy of any other spiritual power. Herbert Spencer testifies to the fact that thought does some- times produce bodily feelings, though he does not use it as we have done. He sa}s : " Ideas do, in some cases, arouse sensa- tions. Several instances occur in nry own experience. I cannot think of seeing a slate rubbed with a diy sponge without there running through me the same cold thrill that actually seeing it produces." As this reactionary movement of the mind depends on the recollection of things already perceived by the senses, it is an indication that the primary and proper source of sensation is the action of the body on the mind. Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 39 CHAPTER VI. CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. _, . . ,. 1. The doctrine which makes spirit only a refined defined. " species of matter is called materialism. The essential Cerebrahsm. p [ n t in materialism is that sensation, thought, and spiritual experience generally, result simply from the operation of physical agents as such, or as acting in obedience to their own proper laws. This idea has been expressed sometimes by comparing psj'chical operations to those phenomena of light, heat, and electricit}' which take place during chemical and vital processes. In other words, materialism teaches, not merely that spirit is extended and has other attributes in common with matter ; not merely even that spirit has all the essential attri- butes of matter, although no one save a materialist would say this ; but also, and especially, that the life of spirit is purely a development of material forces. The modern adherents of this doctrine have frequently been stj-led cerebralists, because the}' derive psychical phenomena from certain supposed qualities of the brain and nerves. Au- guste Comte, in his " Positive Philosophy," distrusts and con- temns all facts save the physical and tangible, and finds in these an explanation of all phenomena. According to him, " the pos- itive theory of the intellectual and affectional functions ... is simply a prolongation of animal physiology, . . . from which it differs far less than this last differs from simple organic or veg- etable physiology." Herbert Spencer and Alexander Bain are English psychologists, and Professors Tjmdall and Huxley English scientific writers, who, with some modifications of thought and phraseology, have ideas essentialh' similar to those of Comte. Let us note that the question presented by materialism is not ide?itical with the question whether the soul and the body are two distinct existences. If this were the case, it would be easity settled. In eveiy act of sense-perception the ego, or self, or soul, immediately distinguishes from itself the non-ego, or body, whose affections are the cause of our sensations. So also the ego immediately refers spiritual activities and powers to itself, and sense-affecting operations and powers to the non-ego. Thus soul and body are at once distinguished. But the statement of these facts, although they have an important bearing on the argument, is not the proper opposite of the materialistic theoiy. One might allow the distinct existence of soul and of bod}', 40 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. and yet argue that the soul is a product of some corporeal func- tion. Those who say that the brain produces mind just as the liver produces bile might say, that, as the bile is not the liver, so the mind is not the brain. The question therefore remains, Is not the soul an offspring of the body? For example, ma}' it not be some subtile, active fluid secreted by the nervous system ; and may not its experiences be the movements of this fluid? Contrary We reject all such forms of belief for the following to common reasons. In the first place, though often advocated earnestly by philosophical speculators, materialism has always been condemned by the common sense — that is,. the practical spontaneous reason — of mankind. Men in general do not inquire whether or how far mind and matter have a community of nature, or whether matter be the only extended substance or not, whether mind is capable of being enclosed in limits like the bocty, whether mobility and motion ma}' be affirmed alike of both substances, and such questions ; but they do hold that matter and spirit are radically, generieally, different. So far as we can learn, no people, certainly no civilized people, have believed that the soul is simply a material product. As man- kind are constantly and intimately concerned both with spiritual and with material objects, and with each as these objects really exist, their judgment as to a radical diversuyv of nature is not to be esteemed lightly. XT . , In the next place, the fact that psychical states, at Not proved . *•' l y ' bythede- least during mans present life, are immediately con- psyci^icai ° f ditionecl on physical, does not prove that the former on physical originate from the latter, or that they are of the same general nature with physical phenomena. A good bed and a sufficient decree of warmth are the conditions of restful sleep ; yet we do not, on that account, identify the bed and its warmth with the sleeper and his repose. So, after men perceive the intimate connection of soul and body, and the dependence of spiritual activity on the use of cerebral organs, the distinction is soon made between the conscious agent, on the one hand, and the physical conditions of his activity, on the other. They see that the agent may have an origin and an existence independent of the conditions to which his life is subjected : and they con- demn the identification of the psj'chical with the ph} T sical as an undue and even as an unreasonable assumption ; for when, in any case, some needful antecedent of a phenomenon seems unfit or inadequate for its production, we naturally say that it is only a condition and not the essential cause of the phenomenon in question. How easiry, on this principle, we distinguish between an}' sensation and the affection of the sensorium on which it may Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 41 depend, — for example, between toothache and the irritation of the dental nerve ! In the same wa} T we distinguish between the whole nervous system and the soul dwelling within it. The belief This judgment of common sense, which affirms the inimmate- unfitness of the physical to produce the psychical, inductive seems realty to be an inductive conclusion concerning judgment. ^ e g enera j character of material agents and their operations. Setting aside points of philosophical disputation, we may say that the conception of matter, as commonly and cor- rectly entertained, includes those substances generally, or that part of substantial being, whose nature and operations are 'made known to us in the exercise of sense-perception, and through inquiries essentially dependent on this power y while spirit is that part of substantial being whose character and phe- nomena are perceived in the exercise of consciousness, and by means of investigations dependent thereupon. We believe, too, that any more complete and satisfactory definitions of these two substances must be worked out within the lines of thought indi- cated by these broad characterizations ; which, however, are suf- ficient for our present purpose. We should also adel that while matter, not mind, is the im- mediate object of sense-cognitions, and while mind, not matter, is the immediate object of consciousness, experience enables us to use each of these powers of perception in the service of inqui- ries dependent primarily on the other. Thus the sight of an improved countiy, through an exercise of sense-perception, wit- nesses the industry and intelligence of the inhabitants ; and in like manner a sense of exhilaration attested by consciousness maj' indicate a salubrious and invigorating atmosphere. Now, if our knowledge and conception of matter and its qualities be formed as we have stated, the materialistic contro- versy may be made to assume a definite shape. If matter be defined as the substance whose existence and attributes are known in the cognitions of sense, then the question for deter- mination is, Can the production of spirit and its activities be accounted for by any powers of matter similar to those dis- covered by sense-perception and physical investigation f The question, thus stated, leads to a negative answer ; for physical investigation — the examination of material properties and pow- ers — can discover no phenomenon in Nature similar to that production of ps3'chical life which has been supposed to take place in the brain. We find in matter strict but blind obedience to the laws of its own constitution, and look in vain for any development of mental life. Moreover, acting on the rational presumption that such life, if it existed, would certainly manifest 42 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. itself in some wa} T , we take the absence of manifestation as a satisfaetoiy proof of the non-existence of the psychical activity. If, then, no material combination is ever known to produce spiritual life or aught save pfcrysical changes, is it probable that the cerebrum, a body composed of common and well-known ele- ments, should be thus endowed? The passage from the ordi- nary and physical operations of matter to this extraordinary and psychical activity is a step which the mind refuses to take. It would be easier to accept the doctrine of the alchemists that base metals may be converted into gold, than to believe that any kind of matter is capable of the production of spirit and its phenomena. So far as can be seen, matter acting upon matter leaves it matter still. NopsycM- Some, we know, assert that the operations of or- cai life in game life in vegetable and animal structures indicate organized ° . , ,,. • -i . • i , j • • bodies as an intelligence resident in such structures or origi- sucii. nating from them. To us organic growths exhibit only peculiar physical and molecular powers with which the Creator has endowed various material combinations of his own formation. It is evident that the works of Nature in general could not have originated the intelligence manifested in their constitution. To suppose that the}' did, would be to make them the source of that source from which they themselves have evidently been de- rived. Who can credit the assertion that this great universe, so filled with order and goodness and beauty, was not produced 03' a pre-existing Intelligence? Who can believe that airy one of God's wonderful works — for instance, the physical frame of man, with the complicated adaptations of its organs to each other and to the conditions surrounding our life — is the offspring of an accidental concourse of unintelligent atoms? No absurdit}' could be greater than this. Lord Bacon, on purely philosophi- cal grounds, exclaimed, "I had rather believe all the fables in the Legend and the Talmud and the Alcoran, than that this universal frame is without a Mind;" and he iustty adds, "A little philosophy inclineth man's mind to atheism; but depth of philosophy bringeth men's minds about to religion." While it is thus clear that material organisms are the work of a pre-existing Mind, it is equally evident that they do not ex- hibit any power of psychical activity as resulting from the consti- tution given them by their Creator. Every operation of organic life can be explained as simply the unintelligent operation of plrysical forces. The genii of rivers and mountains, the souls of plants and trees, the angry spirits of the thunderbolt and the earthquake, are only ideas of the imagination. Moreover, the Chap. VI] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 43 tendrils, roots, and leaves of plants never exhibit more than a superficial resemblance to the actions of a living agent. Their movements may be, and are, accounted for as simply the result of certain laws of molecular attraction and combination. The shrinkings of the sensitive shrub seem caused by a power which passes along its stems as heat passes along an iron rod. Insec- tivorous plants, of themselves, exhibit no more intelligence than a rat-trap. So far as can be discovered, all vegetable actions result from unthinking physical forces ; there is an utter absence of that freedom, variety, and adaptability which characterize the efforts of voluntary agents. In this connection we ma}' notice the use made by action 6 of* cerebralists of the discoveries of Sir Charles Bell and the nervous others, respecting the action of afferent and efferent nerves. It has been ascertained that frequently a physical influence being borne to the brain, or to some nerve- centre, by an afferent nerve, results, through the agency of the corresponding efferent nerve, in some bodily action. Sneezing and coughing are examples of such actions. They occur with- out any volition, sometimes without an}' consciousness, on our part ; but evidently have always a useful end in view. The motion of the heart and of the muscles employed in breathing is maintained by a nervous influence, without any thought of ours ; such, also, seems somewhat the case with various bodily actions which may have become habitual. In these movements, it is said, the work of mind is plainly performed by the nerves alone. But, in the phenomena alluded to, we cannot find any evidence that the powers of the soul are identical with those of the sensory system or even that they are of the same nature. On the contrary, as the bodily movements in question are not necessarily accompanied with any consciousness, we infer that the\' result from forces which are wholly physical. So far from indicating a sameness between mental and molecular activity, they suggest that the sensory system is an organized kingdom of vital but unconscious material agencies, made read}' for the control and. guidance of the intelligent soul. • We should also add that no evidence has been discovered of any fluid in the nervous system possessing physical properties, with which mind might be supposed to be identicd. Physiolo- gists incline to the opinion that the excitement of the nerves consists simply in the action of molecule upon molecule. To sum up what has been said, the chemical and of the in-° n mechanical, the vegetable and corporeal, powers of the ar^um e nt creation all possess a common character. They ex- hibit blind obedience to the laws controlling masses 44: MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. and molecules, and nothing more. But the domain of spirit dis- closes a new nature. Instead of composition and divisibility, there is an absolute and conscious unity ; so that (were con- jectures allowable on a point so removed from observation) we might suppose mind not to be composed of molecules, but to have perfect continuity of being. Instead of a self-helplessness which acts only as acted upon, there is ceaseless self-activity ; and, above all, instead of the powers of material objects vari- ously to affect the senses and to act upon each other, there are such spiritual potencies as thought, sensibility, desire, affection, and moral principle and purpose. To hold that one of these natures with its powers can produce the other nature with its powers, is a worse than gratuitous assumption ; it is the assign- ment of a phenomenon to an utterly inadequate cause. a false Perceiving in all inorganic and organic substances analogy. an underlying sameness of nature, we are not sur- prised to see one department of the visible creation furnish- ing material and support for another. Mechanical powers operate everj'where ; while chemical, vegetable, and corporeal changes contribute more or less to one another. But because of the radical diversity of character between the spiritual and the material, the relation of the soul to the body cannot properly be compared to that of corporeal to vegetable structures, or to that of vegetable bodies to the inorganic. It is wholly unlike these, and is so regarded in the general opinion of mankind. Tyndaii 2. It may seem strange that the leading cerebralists quoted. f our ^ay admit the force of the foregoing reasonings. Let us take Professor Tjmdall as a representative man. He publishes the conviction that " matter possesses the potency of every form and manifestation of life." He sa}'S : "Were not man's origin implicated, we should accept without a mur- mur the derivation of animal and vegetable life from what we call inorganic Nature. The conclusion of pure reason points this way, and no other." In this statement the expression "animal life" embraces not merely corporeal vitality, but also all forms of ps}'«hical activity. Yet this same professor, speak- ing of the theory of " a natural evolution" of the universe from inorganic elements, uses the following language: "What are the core and essence of this hypothesis? Strip it naked, and you stand face to face with the notion that not alone the more ignoble forms of animalcular or animal life, not alone the nobler forms of the horse and the lion, not alone the exquisite and wonderful mechanism of the human body, but that the human mind itself — emotion, intellect, will, and all their phenomena — were once latent in a fiery cloud. Surely the mere statement of Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 45 such a notion is more than a refutation. I do not think that any holder of the evolution hypothesis would say that I overstate or overstrain it in an}' way. I merely strip it of all vagueness, and bring before you, unclothed and unvarnished, the notions by which it must stand or fall. Surely these notions represent an absurdity too monstrous to be entertained by am' sane mind." In 1868, before the British Association for the Promotion of Sci- ence, Tyndall said : " Were our minds and senses so expanded, strengthened, and illuminated as to enable us to see and feel the very molecules of the brain ; were we capable of following all their motions, all their groupings, all their electric discharges, if such there be ; and were we intimately connected with the cor- responding states of thought and feeling, — we should probably be as far as ever from the solution of the problem, How are these physical processes connected with the facts of consciousness? The chasm between the two classes of phenomena would still remain intellectually impassable. Let the consciousness of love, for example, be associated with a right-handed spiral motion of the molecules of the brain, and the consciousness of hate with a left-handed spiral motion : we should then know when we love that the motion is in one direction, and when we hate that the motion is in another direction ; but the why would still remain unanswered." And in 1875 he reiterates the statement: "You cannot satisfy the human understanding in its demand for logical continuity between molecular processes and the phenomena of the human mind." We are astonished at such utterances from one who finds every potency in matter, and we ask for an explanation of them. This is to be found in a conception of matter presented by Professor Tyndall, ichich differs from that entertained by men in gen- eral. Matter as matter — that is, as possessed of those quali- ties commonly ascribed to it — cannot produce psychical life; but it is endowed with other and higher powers, and in the exer- cise of these it ma}' and does produce the phenomena of mind. To show the reasonableness of this idea, the Professor dilates eloquently on material "potencies." "Think," he exclaims, "of the acorn, of the earth, and of the solar light and heat! Was ever such necromancy dreamt of as the production of that massive trunk, the swaying boughs, and whispering leaves, from the interaction of those three factors ? In this interaction consists what we call life. . . . Consider for a moment this potency of matter. There is an experiment, first made by Wheatstone, where the music of a piano is transferred from its sound-board through a thin wooden rod across several silent rooms in succession, and poured out at a distance from the 46 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. instrument. The strings of the piano vibrate, not singly, but ten at a time. Eveiy string subdivides, }ielding not one note, but a dozen. All these vibrations and subvibrations are crowded together into a bit of deal not more than a quarter of a square inch in section. Yet no note is lost ; each vibration asserts its rights, and all are at last shaken forth into the air by a- second sound-board, against which the distant end of the rod presses. Thought ends in amazement as it seeks to realize the motions of that rod as the music flows through it. I turn to my tree, and observe its roots, its trunk, its branches, and its leaves. As the rod conveys the music and yields it up to the distant air, so does the trunk conve} T the matter and the motion — the shocks and pulses and other vital actions — which eventually emerge in the umbrageous foliage of the tree." In short, Professor Tyndall holds that evolution and materialistic notions are "ab- surd in relation to the ideas concerning matter which were drilled into us when } T oung. Spirit and matter have ever been presented to us in the rudest contrast, — the one as all noble, the other as all vile." But if we should come to " regard them as equally worthy and equally wonderful, — to consider them, in fact, as two oppo site faces of the same great mystery " — our difficulties would disappear. He confesses that his theoiy calls for a " total revolution of the notions now prevalent," yet de- rives encouragement from the fact that "in many profoundly thoughtful minds such a revolution has already occurred." Remarks on ^ n re S arc l to these views of Professor T3 r ndall, we the views have the following remarks to make. First, in his yiua ' acknowledging that matter, as commonly conceived of, cannot produce mind or ps3*chical phenomena, he yields the essential point in controversy. If the production of spiritual phenomena result from powers different from those which matter is generally known to have, then these are pro- duced by matter, not as matter, but as something of another nature. Matter, in fact, becomes itself the creative or forma- tive spirit of the universe. This doctrine is not materialism ; it is a form of pantheism / and the adoption of it is the sur- render of materialism, properly so called. In the next place, although Tyndall calls for a "total revo- lution" of our conceptions concerning matter, he fails to furnish any distinct basis for this change of view. As alreacty said, his language sometimes suggests that there are powers in matter different from those which we call material ; yet just as frequently he makes these other powers onl} T the ordinary powers of matter exalted and refined. After all his eloquent illustra- tions of the wonderful potencies of matter, we find it hard to Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 47 tell whether his views be really materialistic or pantheistic. The powers which he specifically describes are purely physical and unintelligent. The only tw revolution " which his language effects is one which brings us back to our starting-point in a some- what bewildered condition as to the meaning of the Professor. Finally, we sa}' that the pantheistic view, which makes mat- ter to be a kind of unconscious yet thinking agent, is a doctrine wholly unsupported by evidence, and even more absurd than the extremest materialism. Mankind justly regard matter as devoid of the distinctive characteristics of mind ; it never manifests these characteristics, and seems unfit to possess them. Nor could an} T opinion be more irrational than that the intelligence of creation and providence, which has solved problems of a complication and greatness far transcending the grasp of human faculties, is the attribute — the under med attribute — of an aggre- gate of material molecules ; an aggregate, too, entirely uncon- scious of its own existence and its own activity. "We have now considered materialism with reference to those facts upon which its advocates rely. We find that these, strictly interpreted, do not support this form of belief, but indicate a radical diversity of nature between matter and spirit. The doc- trine which we thus contrast with materialism has sometimes been called dualism, because it asserts a duality of nature in those beings immediate!}- perceived by us. It is opposed to materialism on the one hand, and to idealism on the other, which doctrines, and also pantheism, to which the} T severally lead, have been classed together under the title of monism; for they all assert that we are cognizant of only one kind of substance. Godbasno 3. Before closing our argument, we must direct bram. attention to the force of that great fact, which the positive philosophy vainly endeavors to ignore, and which, whether it be accepted or not, we think should be patent to every candid student of creation and providence. To us, assuredly, those works of wisdom, power, and goodness which alone en- noble the universe and make it glorious, manifest a Being incon- ceivabh' great and mighty, yet possessed of attributes essentially similar to those which characterize our own spirits. But where is the brain that gave birth to the omnipresent and all-creative mind? What material origin can be imagined for that cosmical Intelligence which first fashioned and still sustains the s^-stem of which we form a part? The fact has already been noticed that much nervous action takes place without any psychical activity. Is not the intelligent activity of the Creator a case in which the attributes of spirit are exercised without any connection with 48 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VI. cerebral or other material organs ? And if this be so, ma}- we not conclude that the existence and life of finite spirits are not necessarily dependent upon material causes, but that, with some wise design, they have been subjected for the present to earthly and corporeal conditions ? The spirits Here the question arises, May not a material ori- of brutes. g m an ^j na t ure be assigned at least to the spirits of the brute creation? We think not. So far as brutes exhibit intelligence, affection, and other psychical activities, they belong to the domain of spirit, not to that of matter. Our planet seems to be a theatre in which two diverse worlds of God's creation, the spiritual and the material, mingle their laws and forces, acting also upon one another. The substances com- posing one of these systems are so diverse in attributes from those composing the other, that neither world can be considered a derivative or modification of the other ; nor can we by analogy infer the laws governing existence and activity in the one, from those governing existence and activity in the other. In the material world we find no absolute beginning or termination, in- crease or diminution, of substantial existence. This is no proof that the reverse ma} 7 not be the case in the invisible and intangi- ble realm of spiritual being. We find no difficulty in believing that the power of creation and of annihilation, which does not — which perhaps cannot — reside in finite existences, may belong to the Originator of all things. So far as we can discover and judge, all earthly spirits begin to exist at the commencement of the activity of their bodily organization. But as the psychical endowments of brutes are sufficient and suitable only for the direction and the enjoyment of their corporeal life, one might expect their spiritual being to be extinguished at the end of their animal experience. Its proper purpose would then have been fulfilled. Man, on the contrary, has qualities which elevate him as far above the brute as the brute is elevated above every form of senseless matter. He is capable, even now, of entering into the plans and thoughts of the great Creator ; and he has the capacity of endless development hereafter. For him the sages and philosophers of all ages have predicted immortality. When we consider the godlike nature of the human tion oTsoui" soul, we sometimes wonder that it should be burdened and body ac- w jth the limitations of corporeal life. All the various counted for. -, , , , -, i . Y . . ^ ends to be subserved by this arrangement may not be discoverable, but that the arrangement exists seems an altogether reasonable conviction. The soul, in the body, may be likened to a man incased in that strange armor which is used by divers. When one thus clothed is let down into the sea, his activitv for Chap. VI.] CEREBRALISM, OR MATERIALISM. 49 the time is subjected to conditions very different from those which belong to the freedom of his home. His movements are restricted and determined by his harness. His sphere of effort is limited by the necessit\' of communication with his associates on the surface of the water. The signals by which his conduct and that of his friends are guided, come and go through a part of his apparatus. His covering, also, is the medium through which he receives impressions of surrounding objects, and the immediate instrument through which his work of exploration and salvage is accomplished. Moreover, so soon as the appa- ratus may need repair or readjustment, his submarine exertions are, of necessity, suspended. In short, while the armor greatly limits and changes his mode of life and labor, it is also the con- ditio?! under which the ends of that mode of life and employ- ment must be pursued and may be accomplished. In like manner it is reasonable to suppose that the same Wisdom which has evidently made so many benevolent arrangements for man's welfare has, for good reasons, subjected our spirits, in this life, to the conditions and influences of a corporeal connection. Moreover, theprincijrtes of moral philosophy enable us to per- ceive some purposes which certainly, or probably, led to the in- vestiture of the soul with its fleshly habitation and instrument. It is evident that many of those restraints by which man is withheld from vice, and of those incitements which prompt him to virtue, originate in the circumstances of our present being. Physical life is the necessary condition of civil government, of all arts and industries, of those temporal cares and emploj'ments by which the soul is wholesomely occupied, and of those modes of mutual helpfulness in which the morality and benevolence of mankind find obtrusive claims and frequent exercise. The birth of man into a state of weakness, and the manifest character of his subsequent dependence upon powers and agencies other than his own, prepare him to repose that faith in divine assistance without which spiritual prosperity is impossible for any created being. The limitation of the intercourse of spirits, resulting from their embodiment, is favorable to the growth of a proper moral independence ; which purpose, also, as to the successive generations of men, is served by the brevity of human life. In short, our present state of being, in whatever light we look upon it, appears to be specially adapted and designed for our best moral development. The operation, for a time, of some such s}'stem as that under which we live, seems necessary for the highest good of the human spirit. 50 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VII. CHAPTER VII. SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. 1. Sensationalism is that form of belief which ex- ism and as- plains man s spiritual lire as composed exclusively of fsm^eSned those feelings which are excited by corporeal affec- tions, and of modes of action resulting directly and wholly from these feelings. Associationalism teaches that the higher thinkings and actings of the soul result primarily from impressions and impulses of external origin, under the opera- tion of that well-known law whereby mental states tend to recall one another after they have been experienced together. In other words, it asserts that not only some, but all of our secondary psychical movements ma} 7 be explained as simply Eeiated to associational conjunctions and sequences. These two material- forms of doctrine are the chief reliance of the mate- rialistic psychologist in his endeavor to account for the various manifestations of spiritual life, and naturally so ; for, supposing the psychical identical with the physical, it is difficult to see what better can be done than first to define sen- sation as the action of nerve cells, then to make all spiritual activities modes of sensation, and finally to regard every con- junction and sequence of inioard states as the association of modified sensations, — that is, of reproduced molecular changes — with one another. These three forms of opinion - — sensationalism, associational- ism, and materialism — are allied, also, hy reason of that mode of thinking in which they originate. It is essentially one-sided, exhibiting a keen but exclusive appreciation of one class or kind of phenomena and its laws, and an endeavor to explain all other related facts as having the same nature and laws as those observed. Materialism, disregarding that cumulative evidence by which mankind are convinced of the radical duality of sub- stantial existence, confounds the life of intelligent and self- conscious spirit with those material changes with which, in human experience, it is immediately connected. In like man- ner sensationalism, neglecting those marked characteristics which prove our higher experiences to originate from peculiar and independent powers, makes them all, if not exactly material operations, }'et mere modifications of impressions and impulses received from the outer world. And associationalism, fastening Chap. VII] SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. 51 its eye on one easily observed law and on the successiveness of spiritual phenomena, reduces all other laws to this one, ignoring or slurring over the radical peculiarities of various important mental operations. Representa- Condillac, who wrote in France during the middle t.ive men. f ^he eighteenth century, while Reid was lecturing in Scotland, may be considered the founder of sensation- alism. Representing man as a statue to which capacities of sensation had been imparted, he held that a statue thus qualified, and without any further endowment, would gradually manifest all the phenomena of mind. According to him, the modifications of the soul from present objects are sensations ; and these, when reproduced and refined b}~ the memory, are ideas. Hartle}', an English contemporary of Reid and Con- dillac, may be considered the founder of associationalism. He, at least more formally than any of his predecessors, made asso- ciation the one fundamental law of human thought and belief. James Mill and John Stuart Mill (father and son) did much, by their talented authorship, to recommend Hartley's views. According to them, our most deep-seated convictions and prin- ciples are merely associations of ideas rendered inseparable by habit. At the present time Herbert Spencer, uniting in one system the essential views of Comte, Condillac, and Hartley, is the exponent at once of materialism, sensationalism, and associa- tionalism. Spencer also is the apostle of evolution, — that is, of the theoiy of the spontaneous self-development of the universe, from a condition of formless and diffused k ' homogeneity^ " into a condition of orderly and harmonized "heterogeneity." This development, according to Spencer, results from a restless ten- dency of the ultimate atoms of matter to combine with each other, and from the "survival of the fittest" combinations (which for some reason are always the strongest), while the worse and weaker disappear. He holds his other views in sub- ordination to this main idea. Although Spencer asserts that we can know nothing of the real nature of either mind or matter, he also maintains that, so far as we do know them, they are identical. His language throughout is that of the extremest materialism; and, as the "conclusion" of his philosoplry, he declares " that it is one and the same ultimate realhVy which is manifested to us subjectively and objectivel}*." Spencer Some extracts from Spencer's "Psychology" may quoted. illustrate a style of theorizing which in some quarters is strangely popular. Life "is the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external relations ; " and psychical life is 52 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VII. thus "differentiated," or developed, from physical. "Along with complexit}' of organization, there goes an increase in the number, range, speciality, and complexity of the adjustment of inner rela- tions to outer relations. And in tracing up the increase, we find ourselves passi7ig without break from the phenomena of bodily to the phenomena of mental life." On hearing this statement, one cannot help exclaiming, " How great is the power of complex- ity ! " Thought, as originating in the association and "con- solidation" of sensations, is explained as follows: "What is objectively a wave of molecular change, propagated through a nerve centre, is subjectively a unit of feeling, akin in nature to what we call a nervous shock. . . . When a rapid succession of such waves }'ields a rapid succession of such units of feeling, there results the continuous feeling known as a sensation. . . . Mind is constituted when each sensation is assimilated to the faint forms of antecedent like sensations. The consolidation of successive units of feeling to form a sensation is paralleled, in a larger wa}~, b} T the consolidation of successive sensations to form what we call the knowledge of the sensation as such, — to form the smallest separable portion of what we call thought, as distinguished from mere confused sentienc}'." "The cardinal fact" as to the "composition of mind" is that "while each vivid feeling is joined to, but distinguished from, other vivid feelings simultaneous and successive, it is joined to, and iden- tified with, faint feelings that have resulted from foregoing vivid feelings. Each particular color, each special sound, each sen- sation of touch, taste, or smell, is at once known as unlike other sensations that limit it in space or time, and known as like the faint forms of certain sensations that have preceded it in time, — unites itself with foregoing sensations from which it does not differ in qualhy, but only in intensity." " On this law of composition depends the orderly structure of mind. . . . Because of this tendenc}* of vivid feelings severally to cohere with the faint forms of all preceding feelings like them- selves, there arise what we call ideas." Simple notions are formed in this wa} r ; complex conceptions are " clusters of feel- ings joined with the faint forms of preceding like clusters." Then " complexitj'," with its wonderful power, produces the higher ideas of the soul. "Groups of groups coalesce with kindred groups of groups that preceded them ; and in the higher types of mind, tracts of consciousness of an excessively com- posite character are produced, after the same manner. . . . This method of composition remains the same throughout the entire fabric of mind, from the formation of its simplest feelings up to the formation of those immense and complex aggregates of Chap. VII.] SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. 53 feelings which characterize its highest developments." Thus all intellectual life is developed from what are, objectively, waves of molecular change, propagated through nerve centres! The simpii- 2. The best refutation of such philosophy as Spen- ci i ty vbTt cer ' s i s to be found in the direct observation and of 'these impartial analysis of the facts of mental life. A theories. course of true psychological study reveals the exceed- ing inadequacy of all those theories which are founded on a one-sided appreciation of facts, and which owe their existence chief!}' to the ingenuity of their authors. Yet, having discussed materialism, we shall add a few observations on those kindred schools of opinion which, uniting with materialism, form a de- lusive trinity. First, we remark that the strength of sensationalism and associationalism lies mainly in the simplicity of their fundamen- tal principles, and in their conformity to ordinary and objective thought. Our minds naturally look with favor upon simple theo- ries. Knowing that the ultimate is always simple, we incline to accept the simple as the ultimate. Explanations of this char- acter, moreover, are quickly comprehended and easily applied ; for which reason, if they can be supported by any argument, they are sure of some favor. The fact that sensation is closely re- lated to our outwardly directed thinkings, and often mingled with them, has led men to regard the sense-affection, resulting from the influence of external objects, as of the same nature with the perception and the memory of these objects ; and from this be- ginning they have gone on to explain even the highest spiritual activities as the inward reproduction of sensations. Others, again, observing in the sequences of inward life the constant operation of the principle of association, — the most apparent of the laws of mind, — have attempted the complete explanation of mental activity b} r means of this law. The case would be paralleled in physical science by the philosopher who should profess to explain all phenomena by means of the law of gravitation. They fan as Notwithstanding the simplicity and plausibility of explanations the doctrines under consideration, the objections to t oug t. an ^ T intelligent acceptance of them are insuperable. One principal difficulty is that these theories fail grievously as explanations of the phenomena of thought. Let us sup- pose, for a moment, that some of our ideas can be iden- tified with bodily feelings and their modifications ; it jet seems absurd to say that such conceptions as those of substances, spaces, times, powers, relations, numbers, and such ideas as those of person, agent, right, dut}^, interest, are merely "im- pressions " produced by the impact of external objects. These 54 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VII. things are not the objects of any sense. We may be directly cognizant of them, but not physically sensible of them. Sensa- tions cannot plausibly be identified with any notions save with those either of the sensations themselves or of the sense-affecting operations of matter, — the agents, powers, places, times, and other conditions involved being excluded. It is inconceivable that our ideas of these conditions should be constituted out of any feelings or clusterings of feelings. The associationalists perceive this difficulty ; but, instead of recognizing its insuper- able character, they discard some of the radical conceptions of the human mind as the illusions of unphilosophic ignorance, and give very inadequate accounts of others. For example, the s}stems of Mill and Spencer make no place for the notion of substance. Mill defines mind, not as a con- scious and intelligent substance, but as a "series of states of consciousness ; " and Spencer, not as a substance having feel- ings, but as a series "composed of feelings and of the rela- tions between feelings" every such relation being itself " a kind of feeling, — the momentary feeling accompanying the transi- tion* from, one conspicuous feeling to an adjacent conspicuous feeling." According to Mill, matter is not an actual existence, much less a substance, but only '•'•the permanent possibility of sensation;" while Spencer teaches that '•'•forces standing in certain correlations " — that is, as externally opposing those forces which have taken the shape of mind — " form the whole content of our idea of matter." Spencer's account of our notions of relation, as feelings pro- duced by the transition from one sensation to another, is wholly inept. Relations, as such, can produce no feelings. These come only from some actions or operations in connection with which the relations are perceived. We hear two notes of music ; but we do not hear their similarity, their simultaneousness, or their successiveness, or their equality or inequality in loudness, pitch, or length, or any other relation between them. Then what singular conceptions of space and time are given by associationalism ! u Each relation of co-existence is classed with other like relations of co-existence, and separated from relations of co-existence that are unlike it ; and a kindred class- ing goes on among relations of sequence. Finally, by a further segregation, are formed that consolidated abstract of relations of co-existence which we know as space, and that consolidated abstract of relations of sequence which we know as time." Does it require much thought to see that space and time are not of the nature of relations, and that the former is not co -existence, nor the latter sequence f Not only so ; it is inconceivable that Chap. VII.] SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. 55 any feelings or association of feelings could constitute even those conceptions of existence, of co-existence, and of sequence out of which Spencer would construct our notions of space and time. Such is the weakness of that analysis of the phenomena of thought which is consequent upon the self-imposed restric- tions of sensationalism and associationalism. Thevfaiito 3. Tne incompetency of these forms of philosophy explain may be further illustrated from the account they give a"2 belle? of the knowledge and belief of the soul. While profess- aniiespe- m2 - to explain these phenomena, thev really explain ciallv our o L L i fundamental them away. According to these s}'stems, memory is convictions. mere iy u t he re vivability of feelings," while convic- tion is the association of ideal feelings so strongly that they cannot be dissociated by an act of the will. Clearly, the revival or repetition of ideas is not all, nor even the essential part, of memory. In addition to this reproduction, there is the belief — not merely the thought, but the belief — that the ideas now present icere formerly experienced as perceptions of realities. This belief is something distinct in nature both from the ideas in connection with which it is exercised, and from their attraction for each other in the co-existences and sequences of thought. So, also, our convictions in general, though mostly involving the union of two conceptions, always imply more than this miion, and sometimes are exercised in connection with one con- ception only. In every case, belief in the existence or non- existence of something is the essential element. When we say, "Mr. Cleveland exists," there is as much belief as in saving, " Mr. Cleveland is President ; " and in all simple affirmations of existence, we cannot properly be said to conjoin two objects of thought, but only to express our belief in the existence of one. Thoughts, too, may be inseparably associated which are not the statement of any belief. The conceptions of an oft-repeated tale become as well linked together as if they constituted a true story, although, at the same time, the} T may be known to be purely fictitious. In short, neither feelings nor associations of feelings account for the phenomenon of belief. Sceptical But the exceeding evil of a superficial philosophy tendencies. | s manifest when, in consequence of its incompe- tency to explain the true origin and nature of thought and of belief, it justifies the rejection of some of the funda- mental convictions of the human mind. The logical thinker who starts with only the "impressions" of Hume or the "feelings" of Spencer, is brought at last either to the scepti- cism of the one or to the nescience of the other. When ideas are defined as the reproduction of internal changes corre- 56 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VII. spondent to external changes, — no element of existence being admitted save that of change, — there is left for as only the knowledge of appearances. What we perceive is no longer the phenomena, or varying phases of real things, but phenomena which are falsely asserted to be separable from realities. Whether there are such things as substances in which these phenomenal changes occur, or such a thing as power to produce them, — in other words, whether beings and their attributes, properly so called, exist, — are points about which we know and can know nothing. Such are the teachings of these sys- tems. This taking away of the ideas of substantial being, of power and attribute and causation, eviscerates the bod}- of human knowledge ; it leaves no object of belief save a thin phantasmagoria of appearances, covering emptiness only. There are no powers, no beings, in this showy, shadow}' universe ; nor are there laws, save certain unexplained and inexplicable uni- formities of co-existence and of sequence ! And in regard to the recurrence of " phenomena,'" our only source of rational judg- ment is the tendency of frequently repeated impressions to recall one another ! It is astonishing that able men should propose to enlighten the world with doctrines like these.. To any unsophis- ticated mind the absurdity of such doctrines is most apparent. We need not, in further antagonism to these delu- ex^iauations sive systems, consider their inadequate explanation andmotlvitv °^ our em °tions and motivities. Only strong attach- ment to preconceived theories can sustain the belief that our feelings, appreciative of the sublime and the beautiful, of the befitting and the ludicrous, of the right and the wrong, the joyful and the sad, the lovely and the hateful, are but modifications of impressions on the senses. And what asso- ciations of outwardly excited impressions or appetencies can be supposed to produce contempt, anger, pity, benevolence, the thirst for knowledge, the love of power, the earnest pur- poses of self-interest, and the high determinations of duty? A satisfactory account of these experiences calls for factors which the mere contact of the soul with outer things cannot furnish. 3. The foregoing discussion indicates the need of accurate in- trospection on the part of those who would philosophize concern- ing mind. Materialistic teachings begin with the error that the thoughts of our sensations are of the same nature with the sen- sations themselves. This might be admitted by one who would reject the greater absurdit}' that our higher and more rational thinkings are but modifications of sense. We see, however, no reason for any such admission. Chap. VII] SENSATIONALISM AND ASSOCIATIONALISM. 57 We will not say, absolutely, that there can be no likeness between a sensation and our present perception or subsequent re- membrance of it ; possibly there ma}' be some similarity between two psychical states, related to each other as those in question are. Let us imagine a mirror capable not only of reflecting the appearance of a present object, but of reproducing this appear- ance when the object should be absent. Might we not allow that in such a case not merely a correspondence, but also a sort of similarity, w r ould exist between the appearance in the mirror and the object represented? So, if any one believes that there is a likeness between a present or past feeling and our knowl- edge or remembrance of it, it would be difficult to disprove such an opinion. Nevertheless, an object and the reflection of it, though in a certain respect similar, being totally unlike in their most radi- cal and important characteristics, it would be absurd to affirm that they are things of the same nature. In like manner, even though some likeness, some similarity of formation, were sup- posed to exist between a sensation and our thought of it, this would not show them to be things of the same kind. That they are not, — that there is no proper corn- proper com- munit}* of nature between sensation and even that munity of thought immediately concerned with it, — seems evi- nature. ° . J . . dent from their contrary characteristics. Sensations are obtrusive and vivid experiences ; when they enter into our consciousness, they occupy and control the mind ; our concep- tions of them, like our other thoughts, are comparatively quiet and unaffecting. Sensations are in great measure the passive effects of external causes ; our recollection of them arises wholly from the mind's own activity. Sensations are not subject to the guidance of the will ; our thoughts of them may be entertained or dismissed at pleasure. Sensations have all more or less defined places in the sensorium ; our ideas of them are not fixed in these places ; if they have any special habitation, it is with our other thinkings in the brain. In short, sensations obey laws of their own ; while our apprehension or remembrance of them is subjected to the laws of thought. 58 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VIIL CHAPTER VIIL THE ACTIVITY OF MIND. 1. Haying dwelt at sufficient length on the subject of sense and questions connected with it, we proceed to the direct study of mind. We shall contemplate this power in its most general character first. Viewing its phenomena in this wa}^, we find that they may be regarded either subjectively or objectively, — that is, either merely as modes of psychical life, or as being also related to their appropriate objects. From either aspect interesting dis- cussions arise. For example, considering the intellect subjec- tively, two questions present themselves concerning its activity. One is, Are v:e alvjays consciously active? the other is, Are, we ever zuiconsciously active f Sir William Hamilton answers both affirm atively. He thinks that the mind never ceases from conscious thought even in the deepest swoon or the soundest sleep ; and that, in addition to this conscious activit} T , there are many mental movements of which we are unconscious. We incline to a negative answer in both cases, although we confess that the questions belong to a class which calls for moderation in our opinions. Are we ai- In ancient times the doctrine of ceaseless conscious ways con- activity was taught by the Platonists, because, by sciously ac- ^ " v 7 » «/ tive? OpiiL- means of it, they more perfectly contrasted ethereal ions quoted. S ^\ Y [^ w j^h senseless, inert matter. It was rejected by the Aristotelians, who made less use of assumptions and more of facts. Descartes held that the very essence of the soul consists in thought, or rather in conscious life, and there- fore explained our continued existence as consisting in our con- tinued activity. Leibnitz taught the doctrine of monads, — ■ that the whole universe, both material and spiritual, is com- posed of ceaselessly active and energetic atoms. This deter- mined his view of the soul. He supposed, however, that our spirits, though alwaj'S active, are not alwa}'s conscious. Dr. Porter maintains the view that the soul is constantly active, whether it be awake or asleep, and says that modern ps}~- chologists, excepting materialists only, are nearly unanimous in this opinion. Locke, on the other hand, contends that some men never dream at all, and that none are conscious that they dream continuously ; while Dr. Reid gives his own experience as follows : — Chap. VIII.] THE ACTIVITY OF MIND. 59 Having mentioned how, in his early days, by a determined effort, he had freed himself from a habit of uneasy dreaming, he adds: " For at least fort}" 3*ears after, I dreamed none, to the best of m} T remembrance ; and finding, from the testimony of others, that this is somewhat uncommon, I have often, as soon as I awoke, endeavored to recollect, without being able to recol- lect, anything that passed in nry sleep." Reid's philosophy of our activity during sleep may be understood from his further remarks: ""I am apt to think," he says, "that, as there is a state of sleep and a state wherein we are awake, so there is an intermediate state which partakes of the other two. If a man peremptorily resolves to rise at an early hour for some inter- esting purpose, he will of himself awake at that hour. A sick- nurse gets the habit of sleeping in such a manner that she hears the least whisper of the sick person, and 3*et is refreshed by this kind of half-sleep. The same is the case of a nurse who sleeps with a child in her arms. I have slept on horseback, but so as to preserve nry balance ; and if the horse stumbled I could make the exertion necessary to save me from a fall, as if I was awake." Opinions In regard to this question, we remark, first, that criticised. flie opinions of those distinguished men who favor the unremitting conscious activity lose somewhat of their au- thorit}' by reason of their connection, severally, with unfounded notions. The Platonists would find it difficult to show that an ethereal being might not rest as well as one of a gross nature. Descartes evidently errs in sa}'ing that the soul is thought ; it is the substance which exercises thought. Leibnitz can give no proof for the existence of his monads ; and the ceaseless activity of mind is not, as the words of Porter suggest, necessarily in- volved in its absolute immaterial^. In the next place, the facts adduced in favor of the theory of unremittent and conscious action are easily reconciled with the opposite opinion. The marching of soldiers and the watch- ing of nurses while slumbering, and that consciousness of passing time which enables some to rouse themselves with tolerable cor- rectness at a prescribed hour, occur when sleep is not sufficiently profound to prevent all mental activity. A greater degree of somnolenc} T than that experienced during such performances takes away the capability for them. So also in dreaming and in somnambulism the current of life is evidently moving, and the sleep is not perfect. Hamilton, after experiments made upon himself, alleges that if one is aroused while falling asleep, he can always discover that he was in the commencement of a dream ; and that if awakened suddenly at any time during sleep, he finds himself in the middle of a dream. To this we reply 60 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VIII. that absolutely undisturbed sleep is probably of rare occurrence ; that Reid and others testify to an experience different from that of Hamilton ; and that in those cases in which persons roused from deep sleep may find themselves dreaming, the dream may possibly have begun with the beginning of the disturbance. In most instances when we judge ourselves to have been dreaming long, our rest probably has not been very sound ; ' but it is also well known that a dream of hours can take place within a few moments. Jouffro} r , the eminent French contemporary of Hamilton, com- ments on the fact that unusual noises or disturbances, even though slight, frequently prevent or break our repose, while customary sounds or movements have no such effect. It is diffi- cult at first to sleep amid the clatter and shaking of a railway train; custom renders this easy. "See," sa}~s Jouffroy, "the mind, the judgment, ever wakeful, when alarmed by the unusual indications which come through the torpid senses, arouses or keeps alive the whole sensorium also." But here, again, there is only that partial sleep, that intermediate state between sleeping and waking, of which Reid speaks. Any inward feeling of novelt}', danger, or uneasiness acts upon the senses, just as the senses act upon the mind, so as to prevent perfect repose. The phenomena observed by Jouffroy suggest that body and spirit tend to icake or to sleep together, the one with the other, rather than that the one slumbers while the other is awake ; for if the body, or rather the bodily senses, were entirely dormant, the soul could not receive any indica- tions whatever from without ; and our consciousness of psjchical action during sleep generally shows a reduced activity of the higher powers of thought fully equal to that exhibited by the powers of sense. But while the facts adduced in evidence seem insufficient to establish the doctrine of ceaseless activity, they certainly sup- port the belief that the mind is active, though with but feeble energy, during much the greater part of sleep. They also agree with the opinion that spirit never rests of itself, but alwa} T s and only because of its subjection to bodily conditions. When the wearied brain ceases from working, then the soul sleeps ; possibly then only. It ma} T be that disembodied spirits never tire. The common opinion that the deepest sleep is entirely dream- less and thoughtless is sustained by the fact that our repose becomes more profound in proportion to the exhaustion of ner- vous energy, provided this fall short of excess and injury. The action of the soul, so far as it can be observed by consciousness, Chap. VIII.] THE ACTIVITY OF MIND. 61 obe}'s this law ; and it is natural for us to expect an increasing slowness of motion to terminate in absolute rest. Then, too, in swoons, and in the insensibility produced by powerful anaesthetics, the mind seems to be perfectly inactive. In such cases the most severe operations performed on one's bod}' excite no sensations or other ps} T chical movements. Mental life is arrested for the want of those corporeal conditions which have been imposed on its present exercise ; but so soon as these return, it springs again into activity. In view of such facts as these, it is difficult to believe that the soul is always consciously active. 2. We now come to the inquiry, whether the soul is ever uncon- sciously active. This question is not whether experiences of thought or of motivity may not unconsciously impress the mind with tendencies to similar modes of experience. This is admit- ted ; and it proves the existence of a power which is very different from those which directly manifest themselves in consciousness, but which perhaps operates only in immediate connection with the activities of our conscious powers. Nor do we now ask whether there are ' ' mental modifications " attended with a very slight degree of consciousness. No one denies that. Often trains of thought pass through our minds which engage our interest so little that if asked what we are thinking about, we reply that we are thinking of nothing. The mental energ} T has been so feeble that we cannot recall a single idea. For a similar reason most dreams are immediately for- gotten ; so that frequently, even when we can say that we have been dreaming, we find it impossible to tell what we have been dreaming about. The question is, whether there be mental activities of a simi- lar nature to those of conscious life, of which, however, ice are utterly unconscious at the time of their taking place, and which are manifested afterwards through effects of which we are con- scious. We state the* question in this wa} T , because the idea of mental movements which never manifest results in consciousness may be set down as highly improbable, and because the faculty of consciousness is so close a beholder of psychical changes that positive evidence is needed of the occurrence of activities with- out its sphere of observation. These considerations throw the "burden of proof" on the advocates of unconscious "modi- fications;" and this burden has been accepted by them. Hamilton uses three arguments in support of his position. The first is founded on the fact that no sense can consciously perceive any object smaller than a certain minimum. Vision results from the reflection of light ; but if the surface of an 62 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VIII. object be diminished beyond a given limit, the object becomes invisible. " Therefore," argues Hamilton, " each part must act so as to make up the visibility of the whole. Here, consequently, are minute modifications of mind, of which we are entirely uncon- scious. We cannot see one forest-leaf at a distance, but the multitude of them together produces an extended view. The distant murmur of the sea is made up of parts, any one of which by itself would be entirely inaudible. The taste of sweet- meats, the odor of flowers, the soft touch of velvet or of down, ma}- each be considered as the result of an infinity of unfelt modifications." This reasoning is well met, as we think, by a distinction made by Dr. Porter, between the affection of the organ of sense and the affection of the mind consequent upon it. The united influ- ence of many leaves or waves or particles may be needful to bring the organ into a condition which qualifies it to excite a sensation in the mind. But anything less than the perceptible minimum might produce its attenuated effect upon the nerve, without moving the mind in the least. In like manner, during swoons and times of absolute insensibility, there is an action of the'nervous sj'stem too weak to affect the mind, yet sufficient to sustain various functions of the bod} 7 . Then, also, in addi- tion to the foregoing, we may question whether an infinitesimal force can produce an} T movement even in the nerves. Hamilton's second argument is connected with the law of the association of ideas. Let A, B, and C be three thoughts, of which the first and the last have each been associated with the second, but never yet with each other. In this case A may sug- gest B, and B may suggest C ; but A cannot suggest C save b} r first suggesting B. Now it may happen, says Hamilton, that A suggests C without our having any consciousness of B. This last-named thought, therefore, must have taken place as a latent modification of mind. If one billiard-ball strike another at the end of a row of similar balls arranged in a straight line and touching each other, — the blow being given in the exact direction of the line, — the intermediate balls do not move ; only the farthest ball is propelled forward. After this fashion one idea suggests another, "the suggestion passing through one or more ideas which do not themselves rise into consciousness." Sir William, thinking of Ben Lomond, instantly thought of Prus- sian education, and could not imagine wh} T . After reflection, he remembered that he had met a German gentleman on the top of that mountain. This remembrance appeared to him to furnish the lost link by which his conceptions had been unconsciously connected. Chap. VIII] THE ACTIVITY OF MIND. 63 We do not question the fact of the immediate successiveness of the ideas in the mind of so accurate an observer ; but can we be sure that the mountain summit and Prussian education had not previously at all been connected in his thinking ? Is it not possible that the subject of Prussian education, having been suggested b}' the appearance of the German traveller, had en- gaged the Professor's consideration somewhat at the time when he met the gentleman on the mountain ? Nothing could be more natural than this in the case of Sir William. But if this were so, the instance cited would only be one of the ordinary associa- tion of thought. In short, we would account for the apparent want of connection, often noticed between successive ideas, either by reference to a previous and temporarily forgotten association, or else by that rapid oblivion which frequently over- takes such links of thought as do not, while passing, secure our interest and attention. It is difficult to conceive how the mind can think, even in the feeblest wa}-, without at the same time knowing that it thinks ; this, of course, also in a way correspond- ingly feeble. The last argument of Hamilton is derived from our acquired dexterities. When one plaj's rapidly on a piano, or other musi- cal instrument, he seems to strike many notes — especially in a familiar piece — from habit, and without thought of the indi- vidual motions. At times even the chief attention of a practised performer may be occupied with objects not at all related to his playing. Some have accounted for this by ascribing the activity wholly, or nearly so, to the bod}', acting automatically and under the influence, though not under the direction, of the mind. This explanation excludes mental modifications, w r hether conscious or unconscious. But it is incredible. We would accept the idea of latent modifications in preference to it. There is alwa3's, we believe, something intellectual in our dexterities ; their apparent automatism is similar to what takes place when one reads aloud to others sentences, and even passages, which make no impres- sion on his own mind, — that is, no impression such as can be recalled. Drs. Reid and Hartley endeavored to explain these activities by a force of habit, a proneness of spirit, operating without thought. They liken this to instinct. But we question whether even instinct acts without any thought. There is no understanding of its end, but there is some notion of its imme- diate work. The views of Professor Stewart on this subject seem, on the whole, preferable to an}- others. He holds that actions originally voluntary (and therefore also intellectual) always continue so, though we may not be able to recollect every particular volition 64 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. VIII. of a series. He thinks that an act of the will precedes every motion of every finger of the musician ; and compares the skill of the pla} T er to that of the accountant who sums up, almost at a glance, a long column of numbers, retaining no knowledge of the individual figures. The instantaneous forgetfulness accom- panying such mental work is experienced by every student. How often, after a page has been rapidly perused, it is difficult to repeat one sentence — nay, even one word — the author's matter, only, remaining in the memory ! This inabilitj- to recall the details of each successive act of mind is to be explained by reason of the exceeding ease and quickness of the intellectual performance, and from the corresponding slightness of attention given to each particular ; it is not the result of any uncon- sciousness. So, likewise, when we say that an earnest speaker is unconscious of his delivery, we mean that he pays no atten- tion to it, and that his consciousness of it is weak, disregarded, and without effect ; but not, in the strict sense, that he has no consciousness of it at all. That there is a slight consciousness. is evident ; for if some accessory on which he has been accus- tomed to depend — a pencil, a watch-chain, a buttonhole, a pocket-handkerchief, a coat-tail — be removed from reach, it is instantly missed, and some time passes before the previous degree of unconsciousness is regained. In like manner, should some ke} x of the piano become accidentally broken and fail to respond to the quick touch ; should some figure in the column of addition be found illegible ; should some word be omitted or even wrongly spelled on the printed page, — the want would be immediately perceived, and would induce an attentive and deliberate consciousness. One qualification, perhaps, might render Professor Stewart's explanation more entirely satisfactory. He saj^s that the slow and the rapid operations "are carried on in precisely the same manner, and differ only in the degree of rapidity." This rapidity is the chief difference ; but we believe that there is also some- what of a change in the mode of the mind's thinking. We are of opinion that combinations, which at first furnish the objects of several successive thoughts, often come to be comprehended in one complex idea, or in one complexity of co-existing ideas, and that this remains and operates in the mind till it has been fully realized in action. Thus a whole bar of music before its execu- tion, or a whole sentence before its utterance, may be included in one easy apprehension. But in the case of any complex conception, our attention does not rest successively on its sev- eral parts, but on the conception as a whole. This suggests that although minute actions are objects of thought, they } T et may Chap. IX.] MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL ACTIONS. 65 riot be the objects of separate and independent thought ; and if such be the case, there is still less room for wonder that they are not individually remembered. Finally, supposing — what we do not believe — that some ps} T - chical operations entirety escape our observation, this would not prove that such operations occur outside of the sphere of con- sciousness, but only that they have been overpassed and neg- lected within it. If such a doctrine could be proved, it would show that our power of internal cognition, like our power of external cognition, may wholly lose sight of familiar objects be- cause of the presence of others more interesting and impressive. Some show of argument could be made for this theory. But there is no evidence for the assertion of Hamilton, that "the sphere of our conscious modifications is only a small circle in the centre of a far wider sphere of action and passion, of which we are only conscious through its effects. " CHAPTER IX. MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL ACTIONS. 1. Frequently, both in philosophic and in ordinary discourse, we distinguish between the states and the actions, and also between the processes and the products of the intellect. The consideration of these distinctions ma} T contribute to clearness of thought ; and, with a similar end in view, we may profitabty discuss the question, whether the mind is capable of having a plurality of states, or of performing a plurality of actions, simultaneously . Question I n speaking of states, we do not refer to those defined more or less permanent conditions of our psychical J\ Orion 3 Tifl state dis- powers which manifest themselves in modifications of tingmshed. our ac tivity, and which exist during our inactivity. There are such states ; for example, those of vigor and of feebleness, of liveliness and of dulness, of soundness and of insanity, of immaturity and of development. We now refer only to those states of mind of which we are immediately con- scious, and which themselves are the manifestations of our immanent faculties and dispositions. Thus doubt, certainty, conviction, belief, knowledge, ignorance, are states ; while per- ceiving, recollecting, judging, imagining, are actions. 5 6Q MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IX. This distinction between mental states and mental actions is a real one, yet is neither so great, nor of the same character, as that between action and state in the material world. It is not, for instance, like that between the action of chemical agents and their state, or condition, after their action on each other has taken place. It is more like that between seeing and beholding, between merely touching some object and feeling it. In short, an intellectual state may be regarded as a continuous activity, and an intellectual action as a momentary one. The latter either terminates at once or is the beginning of a mental state. We believe that consciousness reveals activity in every psychical condition, and that when an} r conception or subject occupies the mind, there is elicited a continued exercise of power. There is something analogous to that condition of excitement, that state of motion, produced in the luminiferous ether by a light-giving or a light-reflecting body. As the retina of the eye is continuously affected by the rapidly successive waves of light, so the idea of the object obtained through vision appears to be a continuous "or rapidly repeated mental activity. The thoughts awakened and maintained in the mind by the sense of sight, when we may be attentively regarding the objects corresponding to them, may properly illustrate all intellectual states. Gazing, for example, at a flaming candle or a flying arrow, we see the slightest vari- ations in its figure or place, its most delicate flickerings and motions ; and from such observations we infer that continuous thoughts resemble the reflections of a mirror rather than any itates of positive rest. Process and The distinction between the processes and the pro- product, ducts of the intellect is somewhat similar to that just dis- cussed, and presents an important difference in modes of mental activity. It is the distinction commonly made between forming an idea, or conception, of an object and the idea ic hen formed ; and it is paralleled in the difference between forming an aversion or an attachment, and the aversion or attachment when formed. Both processes and products are modes of thought, and do not differ radically in nature. They are not related to each other as mechanical processes and their products are. The carpenter's skilful use of tools and the desk or table which he may make, are things of totally different natures. But Defoe's final and fixed conception of Robinson Crusoe's castle, and the various thinkings of his mind which resulted in that conception, were not essentially unlike : they were both mental activities. Yet we distinguish the process and the product. The former always precedes the latter, and ma} 7 be so imperfect or feeble as to fail of a result, in which case there is no product. The process is Chap. IX.] MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL ACTIONS. 67 composed of successive parts : the product has a more perfect unity ; its parts constitute one thought. The product often can be easily and fully recalled, when the process may have been forgotten and lost in obscurity. The process consists commonly of a series of actions ; when any of these is prolonged into a state, it may be regarded as a partial product, awaiting the union of other parts. The product, though it may be employed and then immediately dismissed, is frequently used as a mental state around which other thoughts arise. Sometimes in experience it is easy to discriminate between product and process ; in other cases this is difficult, because of the rapid transition of the one into the other. In adult sense- perception the result is so instantaneous that no process is ordinarily perceptible. Yet undoubtedly the infantile mind, in forming ideas of material objects, employs a series of sensations and judgments, some of the latter also being the gradual acqui- sitions of experience. The instantaneous sight of a man, a tree, a house, an animal, is the work of trained or educated percep- tion. The processes which precede mental products are perhaps more discernible in the workings of the rational faculty than in those of an}' other. We see plainly how the thoughts which follow one another in a definition coalesce so as to form the notion defined ; and how, after the frequent use of an attributive judgment, its elements unite so as to produce a changed or an enlarged conception. Thus, having several times opened some book, and found it printed in the German language, we there- after, on seeing it, think of it as a German book. x> i i. a We should be careful not to confound the distinc- Product and , ■%-,,'.■,'■%■, object distin- tion between process and product with that between the process, or act, and the object, either of perception or of conception, or of any other exercise of thought. Sir William Hamilton, following Continental authorities, and others, following Hamilton, have fallen into this error. We may cite one passage out of man} 7 . In his " Logic," having stated that ordinarily ' ' conception means both the act of conceiving and the object conceived," Sir William adds : " I shall use the expression ' concept ' for the object of conception ; and ' conception ' I shall exclusively employ to designate the act of conceiving." In these and similar statements the product and the object of thought are plainly identified ; which is yet more evident from the fact that the term ' ' concept " is avowedly and invariably used by Hamil- ton as the equivalent of the term "notion." This mistake is palliated by its connection with difficulties, which we shall con- sider hereafter, pertaining to " ideal objects ; " } T et it is undoubt- edly a mistake. A mental product, no less than a mental act or 68 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IX- process, is simply a mode of thought, and is not the object of its own exercise of thought. This power of the intellect to put the result of its thinkings into permanent, or rather reproducible, ideas is of the highest necessity and utility. Without it, progressive science, and even fixed knowledge of anj 7 kind, would be impossible. Our conceptions would be in the perpetual confusion of formation and of dissolution. No work could be accomplished by the imagination ; the materials would fall to pieces as soon as they had been put together. Memory, too, if it acted at all, would present fleeting and formless elements of thought, rather than serviceable recollections. And the rational faculty, being deprived of fixed notions, would strive in vain after any knowl- edge of the universe^ This ability to form mental products might very properly be called the acquisitive power of the mind. It has not till lately received due attention from psychologists. As Presi r dent Porter remarks, it is " clearly distinguishable from the power to know," or to think. It should certainly be reckoned amorfg the subsidiary or secondary powers of the intellect. 2. Philosophers in past times have been greatly havemore divided as to the number of states or actions possible thoughts for the mind at any one time. The saying is a com- at once? mon one, that we cannot attend to more than one thing quoted 13 a ^ once » anc ^ ^ certainly is true that the human mind is incapable of considering different subjects simulta- neously. This useful practical observation, and certain sup- posed requirements of the doctrine of the essential oneness and simplicity of spirit, have led to some extreme opinions. Dr. Thomas Brown, the eloquent colleague and successor of Pro- fessor Stewart in the chair of philosophy at Edinburgh, in his eleventh lecture, says : " If the mind of man, and all the changes which take place in it from the first feeling with which life com- menced to the last with which it closes, could be made visible to any other thinking being, a certain series of feelings alone — that is to say, a certain number of successive states of mind — would be distinguishable in it, forming, indeed, a variety of sensations and thoughts and passions as momentary states of the mind, but all of them existing individually and succes- sively to each other." The views of Stewart, though differently expressed from those of Brown, were radically the same. With characteristic moder- ation he teaches that we cannot "attend at one and the same instant to objects which we can attend to separately." He thinks that the ' ' astonishing rapidity " of thought is sufficient to Chap. IX.] MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL ACTIONS. 69 explain the apparent simultaneity of mental operations. He asserts that a good musician does not attend to the different parts of a harmon}' at once, but varies his attention from one part to another, his thoughts being so quick as to allow no per- ception of intervals of time. According to his theory, when one pla3's rapidly on the piano, and also sings, reading both song and music from a book, his perception of the notes, his reading of the words, his execution on the instrument, his vocalization of the language, his hearing of the music and of the poetr}^ his enjoyment and understanding of the melod} T and of the senti- ment, and the various thoughts and feelings which accompany these things, are all, not simultaneous, but successive. So, too, when the complete figure of an object is painted on the retina, the mind perceives it only by a great number of different acts of attention performed with marvellous celerity; " for," says Stewart, " as no two points of the outline are in the same direc- tion, every point by itself constitutes just as distinct an object of attention as if it were separated by an interval of empty space from all the rest." The assumption that the attention of the mind can act only along one geometrical straight line at a time, and therefore not on a surface or an outline, seems entirely without probabilit}-. Stewart says that if this were not so, "we should, at the first glance, have as distinct an idea of a figure of a thousand sides as of a triangle or a square." But does this follow? Surely the power to perceive three, four, five, or six objects at a time, and to give them each some measure of attention, does not imply a similar power as to a hundred or a thousand ? The opinions of these distinguished Scotch professors appear to have been handed down from disputations of the schoolmen. Thomas Aquinas, Albertus Magnus, and others upheld the affirmative of the question, JPossitne intellectus noster plura simul intelli- gere? The negative was maintained by Duns Scotus, Occam the Invincible, and others. Hamilton's discussion is very complete. He approves of the opinion of some French philosophers, that we can perceive dis- tinctly six separate objects, or six separate groups of objects, at once. " If," he sa\'s, " you throw a handful of marbles on the floor, you will find it difficult to view at once more than six or seven ; but if 3-011 group them into twos or threes or fives, 30U can comprehend as man} 7 groups as 30U can units, because the mind considers these groups only as units. It views them as wholes, and throws their parts out of consideration." A similar experi- ment might be tried with printed words ; for the e3'e can dis- tinct^' grasp a word of eight or nine letters without any trouble. 70 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. IX. The prevailing opinion at present is that the intel- ativemain"- lect is capable of a simultaneous pluralit} 7 of states or tained and activities ; and this view agrees with experience. We undoubtedly can perform several actions at once. If this be so, may not the ideas which cause them be simultaneous too ? When we rub one hand upon the other, the sensations as well as the actions appear to exist together When one looks at the branches of a tree, the boards of a fence, or even a group of persons, only metaplvysical subtilty can suggest that they are not seen at once. The stress of thought may easily be concen- trated on one of the objects ; but so long as no special interest is excited, all are viewed alike. The perception of relations, also, requires a single comprehen- sive perception of the objects related. How could we form any idea of a relation if we did not at the same time think of the objects between which the relation may exist? Who could con- ceive of marriage without also having both husband and wife in mind? In like manner ever} T sentence, with its subject, predi- cate,. copula, and modifying words, must be considered as the expression of one complexity of ideas. We ma}', it is true, compose part of a sentence without having a definite concep- tion of the remaining part ; but it is also true that we could not even begin the construction of a sentence if we did not, from the first, have thoughts, more or less definite, of the plurality of objects involved, and of their mutual relations. When Cicero, in the commencement of his oration for Archias, said, u Si in me est ingenium, judices," he certainty understood well in what way he was about to continue and to terminate that long, graceful sentence, and had in view the several parts of it and their mutual connections. A simple experiment, illustrative of this point, can easily be tried by any one. Let him take some statement, the sense of which he fully comprehends, and let him think only one thought in it at a time. He will find that, in doing so, he loses also the meaning of the statement. For example, in the sentence "Caesar conquered the Gauls," we may think of Caesar, of conquest, and of the Gauls, separately ; but we fail to possess ourselves of the assertion if we do not think all three thoughts together. Moreover, those mental products which we call complex ideas are composed of many constituents, each of them an idea by itself but all of them existing simultaneously in composition. The vast majority of our thoughts are such combinations. Nor can we find any important difference between them and the col- lection of ideas contained in them, save this only, that the Chap. IX.] MENTAL STATES AND MENTAL ACTIONS. 71 constituent ideas exist and adhere together. The analysis of airy common conception — that, for instance, of a coin, a knife, a book, or a pen — will illustrate this remark. We think, therefore, that a belief in the co-existence of men- tal states is conformable with facts. And wiry should it not be so? A ball of iron may, at the same time, receive and transmit heat, be influenced by gravitation, attract the magnetic needle, move onward through the air, displace opposing obstacles, and perform man}' other functions. Wiry may not the soul, an infi- nitely more subtile substance, act in many ways at once? Indeed, to one exercising attentive consideration, the question arises whether the possible rapidity of the soul's successive movements be not surpassed in wonderfulness by the possible multitude of its co-existent activities. At the same time we are far from saying that the distiii- mind has the power of directing its attention equally thought fr ° m ^° man 3' objects at once. Not every act of intellect is accompanied with that special exercise of vigor which is commonly called attention. Hence the inquiry, whether we can attend to many things simultaneously, is to be distinguished from the inquiry, whether we can think of many things simulta- neously. As a good sportsman can only bring down one or two or three birds at a time, though a whole covey may rise before him, so the mind, while many thoughts may be present to it, can address itself to the consideration only of a few. It is to be noticed, also, that a concentration of the power of thinking on one object sensibly withdraws it from, other objects. While one looks carelessly upon his open hand, all the fingers ma} 7 be seen distinctly ; but if he attend particularly to a point or mark on one finger, the perception of the others is immediately weakened. In the case of complex ideas, in which a whole is formed out of several constituents, the full attention of the mind probably can be given to the conception in all its parts ; generally, however, one element becomes specially prominent ; and this appears to be always the case where the conception is made a subject of study. Every human mind has a certain limited amount of intellectual energy. This can be devoted almost entirely to one thought, leaving but a small residuum for division among other thoughts that ma} 7 exist within one's consciousness ; or if the energy be directed towards several objects, the share given to each is less in proportion to their number. We can conceive, however, of a mind of infinite energy, whose knowledge most perfectly and fully, and at the same instant of time, comprehends every object, and every part of every object, in the wide universe. 72 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. X. CHAPTER X. THE OBJECTIVITY OF THOUGHT. 1. The chief importance of thought does not arise from its character as a mental experience, but from the fact that it is the instrument of knowledge, — the agency by which the soul is brought into conscious relations with the universe. The whole wonderful life of man as a spiritual being originates from thought ; and this, too, simply because thought brings the soul into connection with being in its various forms. It is of the very nature of thought to have that peculiar relation to existence which is indicated in saving that thought is the reflex of existence: every thought, however feeble, is thus related to some being, or form of being, which is, therefore, styled the object of the thought. That essential characteristic of th*ought by reason of which it is correspondent to existence, may be called the objectivity of thought. " Being" and " existence" are terms exactly equiv- " being™ 55 alent to each other in their proper and original use; and ''exist- anc | ? as such, the}' are emplo} T ed in two different senses. Their abstract meaning is expressed when ice speak of the being or existence of anything, or when we predicate being or existence of anything, saying, "It is," "It exists," or, "It has being," " It has existence." Thus, if asked about the Emperor of China, we might say that we know that there is such a per- son, or that such a person exists. With this abstract sense of these terms we shall have more to do hereafter. Their other meaning is that which they have when employed concretely. They then signif}', not the attribute of being or existence, but vjhatever possesses this attribute as having it ; in other words, anything which exists. The human bod}' is a material, and the human soul a spiritual, existence ; and we speak of an ex- istence and of existences, of a being and of beings, and, using the terms collectively, of existence in general, and of being in general. In this concrete sense the terms are employed both with a narrower and with a wider application. In the narrower, the} 7 " signify airy kind of substantial existence, whether spiritual or material. God, angels, men, mountains, seas, plains, are beings, or existences. But it is to be noticed that in this signification the term " being " is not used so freely as "existence" for every Chap. X.] THE OBJECTIVITY OF THOUGHT. 73 kind of substance ; it is generally restricted to living beings. In the wider application, " being" and " existence" signify anything whatever that exists ; and in this sense the word ' ' existence " is generally preferred to the word "being." Thus space, time, power, actions, changes, and relations, as well as material and spiritual substances, are existences ; and all things whatever, taken collectively, constitute existence in general. Now, when we say that every thought has objectivnvy, and is related to some form of being or existence, we use these terms, not in their abstract, but in their concrete sense, and that, too, in this last and most unrestricted application ; for there is no form of existence which does not find its reflex in a corresponding form of thought. The relation 2. This relation between thought and the existence, between or form of existence, to which it corresponds, is of a objects of U peculiar nature, and should be distinguished from all thought. other relations. It is not the relation of an effect to a cause ; for the object of thought is wholly inactive, and the exercise of intelligence is the work of the mind itself. Neither is it that of the conditioned to the condition : exist- ence is a condition of thought, in a certain sense ; but the cor- respondence in question is a relation other than this. A mirror cannot form a reflection without an object, but the correspond- ence between reflection and object is distinguishable from the dependence of the former upon the latter. Again, the relation of thought and object is not that of similarly. Things which are utterly unlike may )~et correspond. One part of an inven- tion may correspond to another, as a kej' to a lock ; an instru- ment may correspond to its use, as an oar to rowing ; or a sign may correspond to the thing signified, as a printed to a spoken word. But this does not involve any similarity. The corre- spondence between thought and its objects is probably closer and more minute than an} T other correspondence ; but so far as we can judge, there is no likeness between them. What resem- blance can there be between hardness and the idea of hardness, sharpness and the idea of sharpness, weight and the idea of weight, solidity and the idea of solidity? What similarity is there between the Roman people, with their histor3 T of war and empire, and our knowledge of that people? Mind is so different from matter that we cannot suppose our conceptions of material things to be like the things themselves ; and as for psychical objects, we know that our ideas of actions, desires, emotions, virtues,- vices, weaknesses, and abilities have no likeness to these things. The only thought in which we can discover any similarity to its object is the thought of a thought, 74 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. X. for in such a conception the original thought is repeated and incorporated. This likeness, however, is accidental. Moreover, it is insufficient to say that the relation between thought and its objects is one of correspondence. To say that food is useful to man does not express its peculiar mode of use- fulness. kSo, in this case, the term " correspondence'" does not express the full essence of the matter; there is also a simple and indefinable peculiarit}'. At the same time the nature of the relation in question is well known and easily understood. When a merchant says he is thinking of some enterprise, we know what he means, and perceive the relation between the enterprise and his thought. We see, too, how this relation arises out of, and belongs to, the very nature of thought, and how it con- tributes to make thought a moving and impelling power. We give the name " objectivity " to that character- The terms • • "objectivity" istic of thought which w r e regard as the most essential jectuaSt" " anc ^ distinguishing, because we can find no other name more appropriate. It may be said that the term is more properly applicable to that which is the object of thought than to thought itself. To this we reply that thought it- self, as related to its object, is in a certain sense connected with it, and therefore is sometimes styled objective. For ex- ample, speaking of some idea of the imagination, we may say that although of subjective origin, it has in it, nevertheless, an objective reference. If authorit} T be needed to justify our use of language, that of Sir William Hamilton may suffice. In his " Logic," distinguishing two inward experiences, knowledge and belief, he says: "The one is perspicuous and objective; the other is obscure and subjective." He says, also, that error often arises " from the commutation of what is subjective with what is objective in thought." In these statements the term "objective" corresponds exactly with our objectivity. Could anj T better term be found, we would gladly use it. Here let us remark that it would be advantageous to distin- guish, by our use of terms, between the character of thought as related to its object, and the character of any object, or part or quality of an object, as related to our thought of it. When it should be desirable to indicate the latter character unequivo- cally, we would suggest the use of the word " objectuality." We might then say that thought, as such, has objectivity, but not objectuality ; and that existences, as the objects of thought, have objectualhVv, but not objectivity. Ourdoctrin ^ n sa 3'i n g that thought alwaj'S has objectivuyy as a specifically part of its essence, we do not mean to affirm, liter- stated. ally, that thought always has objects. We often Chap. X.] THE OBJECTIVITY OF THOUGHT. 75 have thoughts without an}' true or real objects whatever ; and we sometimes have conceptions to which no reality ever has corresponded or ever shall correspond. We mean only that the nature or form of thought has that peculiar correspondence, already mentioned, with the nature or form of things ; and that, so far as we have thought, it corresponds in its forms with forms of existence. This statement would hold though the universe were annihilated or had never been created. The conception of a universe yet to be, would correspond with the nature of that universe. An infinite mind might conceive of ten thousand systems, each extremely different from the existing cosmos, and having marked peculiarities of its own ; yet in every case the conception would correspond in its formation w r ith the formation of a system of things. Any psychical state which should have in it no reference to any form or mode of existence could not be a thought, but would be something totally different. Objectivity belongs to the very essence of thought. 3. The foregoing doctrine is so easily and imme- Proved in- • • ductiveiy, diately inferred from an examination of our thinkings and from that formal proof of it seems scarcely needed. Let the eogni- * . „ J tionai origin an}- one make the trial ; he will find that he cannot ideas.° ur think at all if he do not either think of something or as if of something. Yet this truth may be further illustrated, and may be maintained against objections, by one or two confirmatory statements. The objectivity of thought is involved in the fact that the elementary origin of all our ideas is to be found in our perceptions of actual existence. Study shows that the constituent elements of our most fanciful and our most abstract, no less than those of our more common and matter-of-fact, conceptions are all derived from our cognitions of the real and actual. Imagination is a constructive faculty, and can work only with materials furnished by the powers of immediate knowledge. The most extravagant combinations of poetry and romance are formed from thoughts acquired in actual experience. In like manner our abstract notions and our general fundamental principles are all obtained from cognitive thought by certain mental operations. Sometimes conceptions are thus formed to which no real objects agree, — whose correla- tives, in one sense at least, would be more perfect than any real objects ; but this is done by certain intellectual diminutions and additions whereby we lessen the degree of some attributes and add to the degree of others, not by the creation of new ele- ments of thought. So also, by the well-known process of gener- alization, the mind forms its fundamental ideas and judgments from immediate and concrete cognitions. Such thoughts as space, 76 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. X. power, time, change, substance, and our judgments setting forth the necessaiy relations of these things, are first entertained b} T the intellect, not as general notions or truths, but as elements in the perception of particular facts and objects. Modern philosophy has done a great service to mankind in establishing the doctrine that general ideas and truths are, in all cases, derived from the actual and the particular. This was one immediate result of the investigations of a famous man, a junior contemporary of Descartes, and an equally independent thinker. John Locke, about the year 1660, abandoning the scholastic phi- losophy in which he had been educated at Oxford, sought for a more satisfactory theory of thought and knowledge. With strong native good sense he accepted as ultimate the reliability of our immediate perceptions, and found the source of all knowledge in what he called " sensation and reflection," — that is, in our external and our internal cognitions. In so doing, he struck the true line in which all satisfactory progress in modern meta- physics has been made. As to the special point under discus- sionXocke expresses himself as follows : " The dominion of man in this little world of his own understanding is much the same as in the great world of visible things ; wherein his power, however managed by art and skill, reaches no further than to compound and divide the materials that are made to his hand, but can do nothing towards making the least particle of matter, or destroy- ing one atom already in being. The same inabilit}- will any one find in himself to fashion in his understanding any simple idea not received by the powers which God has given him." Pr v d from ^' Again, that forms of thought are correspondent an analysis with forms of existence is evidenced by the fact that structionTof no ^ on l>' ever J idea, but also every construction of theimagina- ideas, so far as really and distinctly made, is of that which is possible to be. So far as elementary concep- tions are concerned, this would follow from the fact just con- sidered, that such conceptions are derived from cognitions of the actual. The actual is alwa} T s possible. On the same ground it is clear that any combination of ideas must be made up of constituents corresponding to various simple modes of existence, and that all our ideas, therefore, at least so far as respects their materials, have objectivity. The question, however, remains, whether our complex concep- tions as wholes are alwa} T s of things possible ; and this inquiry is important. For if only the possible is conceivable, then possible constructions of thought are limited to possible con- structions of existence ; and this would give an additional signi- ficance to the doctrine of objectivit}'. Nor is the proof of this Chap. X.] THE OBJECTIVITY OF THOUGHT. 77 point so difficult as might be supposed. In our cognitions of fact we perceive, in actual operation, the laws of the necessary and the possible ; and in this way we become qualified to judge, in any case, whether things corresponding to our conceptions would conform to those laws or not. We hold that intellectual constructions, so far as they ma}' be actually and distinctly made, always represent possibilities. Complex conceptions may indeed be formed whose parts ma}- be more or less contradictory, and which could not therefore have any reality corresponding to them ; but we believe that in such cases the contradiction is left out of the conception, and the construction of thought, so far as it really takes place, is of the possible. B}' reason of certain laws of Nature, a man could not live with mermaids under water in the caves of the sea ; but should we leave those obstructive laws out of consideration, the conception presents a certain kind, or degree, of possibility. On this the imagination builds. It is the duty of a poet, first, to avoid ab- surdities ; but if this cannot be, then to conceal them with all the art at his command. He can combine only ideas of things possible. That pure impossibilities are inconceivable may be shown b} r experiment. Tr}^ to conceive — that is, to think fully and distinctly — of two neighboring mountains without anj r val- le}' between them ; of the co-existence in duration of the first and the last moments of an hour, or da} T s of a year, or 3-ears of a centmy ; or of an equilateral quadrilateral, one of whose angles only is a right angle, the rest being either acute or obtuse. Endeavor to suppose that three dollars might be equal to five, or that thej T might be less or more than three ; that a man might literally be another man, or might not be himself; that a travel- ler might go from one city to another, or an angel from one star to another, without passing through the intermediate space ; that a statement can, at the same time and in the same particulars, be both true and false ; or that a substance can be both existent and non-existent at once. Such trials as these will convince one that the conception of the impossible is itself an impossibility, and that, consequently, conceptions of the possible are the only possible conceptions. In other words, and more explicitly, we can think of things only so far as the existence of them would harmonize with the necessar}- laws of being. Eeid's opin- Dr. Reid, in the third chapter of his fourth essa} 7 , ion contro- argues against the doctrine that we can conceive only verted « of the possible. His chief reliance is the fact that we can understand the statement of an impossibility when made in the form of a proposition. He would admit that we could not conceive distinctly of a triangle two of whose sides taken to- 78 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. X. gether would be exactly equal to the third side. But he says : "I understand as distinctly the meaning of this proposition, ' Anj 7 two sides of a triangle are together equal to the third,' as of this, ' Any two sides of a triangle are together greater than the third.'" It must be allowed that many statements of things impossible are intelligible, and also that there is no radical difference be- tween understanding a proposition and conceiving it, or con- structing its thoughts into one notion. Nevertheless, we think that there are two different degrees or modes of understanding a statement, — the one partial and superficial, the other thorough and complete. According to the former, we conceive that a thing is or may be so ; according to the latter, not merely that it is so, but also how it is so. And we believe that propositions or conceptions involving impossibilities are constructed by the mind only partially, and only so far as they may contain ele- ments of possibility. We can say, u A man dwelt twenty years among the mermaids," or we can think of a man dwelling tweaty years among the mermaids, notwithstanding all the ab- surdity connected with the supposed existence of such creatures, and the living of a man in their submarine abodes. But, in doing so, all that is impossible or incredible in the case is treated with neglect. In the same wa} T , when constructing the proposi- tion, "Any two sides of a triangle are together equal to the third," we do not think closely or f\x\\y of the sides and their relations. Regarding the two sides simply as two lines, we find nothing absurd in the idea that, as two lines, they are equal to a third line ; and although we recognize all the lines as sides of a triangle, we for the time leave out of view the necessit}- as to their comparative length which results from the shape of the figure. That things impossible can be conceived of only as now de- scribed, is evident also from the fact that the difficulty of under- standing a proposition increases in proportion to its flagrant absurdity, and that a statement which has in it no element of possibility is unintelligible and void of sense. The mind wholly refuses to construct the conception of three and two being six, even though two numbers often, by addition, make a third. In like manner the assertion that " the three sides of a triangle are equal to a pound of butter, a loaf of bread, and a beefsteak," cannot be understood at all. Why? Because it has in it no element of possibility. It would be a dangerous rule to s&y that whatever can be imagined distinctly is possible, as some philos- ophers have taught ; but undoubtedly nothing can be conceived of which has not in it some element of possibility, whether it Chap. XI.] THE ULTIMATE IN THOUGHT. 79 have also elements of impossibility or not ; and it can be thought of only so far as it has elements of possibility, the impossibilities being left out of view. Since, therefore, all our ideas concern either the actual, in the perception of which they originate, or the possible, or the impossible only so far as it ma} T contain ele- ments of possibility, it is clear that all thought has that peculiar correspondence with the forms of existence which we have called objectivity. CHAPTER XL THE ULTIMATE IN THOUGHT. 1. Viewing thought in general as objective, and without ref- erence to any difference in faculties or in objects, the question arises, Is it exercised in one mode only, or in several? in other words, What are the ultimate modes of thought? We are of opinion that there are three such modes, — that we can think of things, first, as existing, secondly, as non-existent, and thirdly, without reference either to their existence or to their non-existence ; and we regard this statement as a cardinal point in the philosophy of mind. The doctrine generally taught at the present day quotea nS allows only one ultimate mode of thought, — namely, p a ? il< Ee'd * ne thinking of things as existent. For example, Sir " William Hamilton sa} T s : " No thought is possible ex- cept under the category of existence. All that we perceive or imagine as different from us, we perceive or imagine as objec- tively existent. All that we are conscious of as an act or modi- fication of self, we are conscious of only as subjectively existent. All thought, therefore, implies the thought of existence. . . . Thinking an object, I cannot but think it to exist ; in other words, I cannot annihilate it in thought. I may think away from it, I may turn to other things, and I can thus exclude it from my consciousness ; but actually thinking it, I cannot think it as non-existent ; for as it is thought, so it is thought existent." President Porter expresses similar views, and even asserts that all thought, or "knowledge," as he terms it, involves the affir- mation of existence. He says : " After every property or rela- tion which we know of an object is set aside from any existing thought or thing, there remains the affirmation, 'It is.' This can- not be thought away." Against these and other authorities, we 80 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL can quote only an old paper of Reid's, published by Dr. McCosh in his u Scottish Philosophy" (p. 475). In order to illustrate a distinction in axiomatic principles, and without attaching special importance to his illustrations, Reid sa} T s : "There are other first principles in which the predicate is not contained in the notion of the subject ; as w T here we affirm that a thing which begins to exist must have a cause. Here the beginning of exist- ence and causation are realty different notions, nor does the first include the latter. Again, when I affirm that the body which I see and feel really exists, existence is not included in the no- tion of the body. I can have the notion of it as distinct when it is annihilated. . . . Existence is not included in the notion of anything." Some terms ^' Before proceeding further with this discussion, defined. it may contribute to clearness of statement should we Existence. (j e fi ne our use f several terms. And first, as to that existence which we have distinguished as attributive. Nothing can add to the simplicity of this idea, or make it more intelligible than it is to every mind. But we ma} r remark that though called attributive, this abstract existence has not a common nature with those attributes which are said to exist in existing subjects. These attributes are entities, which existence is not ; and in predicating them, we presuppose both their existence and that of their subjects. Nevertheless, as existence, like an ordinary attribute, belongs to a subject, and ma} T be predicated of it, this fact maybe property indicated by the term " attributive." There are not two kinds or modes of attributive existence, but, as we shall see more fully hereafter, only one, — that is, real or actual existence. Imaginary existence is merely a figurative or secondary expression which states that w r e have the thought of the existence of some object which does not exist. Potential existence has nearly the same meaning ; but it implies also that the object, though non-existent, may or can exist. Another term to be defined is "entit} T ." The differ- ence between abstract, or attributive, and concrete existence has been alreacty noticed. It is often desirable to ex- press this difference b} r using two different names ; and for this reason the term "enthty" has been employed to signify con- crete existence, — that is, not existence, but that rohich exists; while the term ' ' existence " has been used exclusively to desig- nate the being of any entity, as predicable of it. The word " entity" signifies the same as the word " thing" in the widest application of the latter term, according to which we speak of all things or existences. Not only substances, but spaces, times, powers, actions, changes, relations, are entities ; for all these Chap. XL] THE ULTIMATE IN THOUGHT. 81 things exist. This distinction between the terms "entity" and " existence" is useful, and will be maintained in the remainder of our discussion. NM% " from " ov eh ; " " non-entity " from " entity." What is common to both modes of conception is the schematic thought. For this thought, once secured, is retained and employed when the schema itself may have ceased to exist. It is further to be allowed that our minds, even while using conceptions negatively ; tend cdso to use them positively . Non- entities — that is, cases of non-existence — of themselves never affect us. No man ever sought or avoided emptiness for its own sake. All power and life reside in entities ; and non-entities, as such, interest us, not because they are non-entities, but because the}' are not entities. Only for this reason do they become ob- jects of either aversion or desire. Hence the tendency of the mind, especially when dwelling directly on any conception, to construe it positively. This may be accepted as an ultimate law of spirit- ual life ; and it explains not only why we so frequently think of things that are not as though they were, but why, even while thinking of non-existences as such, we tend also to think of them as things at least that may be. Such thought, however, is distin- guishable from the negative conceptions to which it is related. Formal or Finally, we seem in certain cases to think simply of schematic, the schemata of objects ; that is, we think of objects conceptions. w ^[j 0u ^ thinking of them either as existent or as non- existent. This mode of thought, it is to be acknowledged, is, for several reasons, difficult of deliberate realization. The en- deavor to think two thoughts — the thought of the object (or form) and that of its existence — apart involves the necessit} T of thinking them both at once, so long as this endeavor may be in- tentionally continued. Such an attempt, however, may settle the question whether we can clearly distinguish the two thoughts. 86 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL If this be answered affirmatively, it is likely that we can think them separately. Then that strong inclination, already mentioned, towards the exercise of positive thought militates against schematic even more than against negative conceptions, and causes the mind to strengthen the former with the idea of existence. Our sche- matic conceptions may be likened to those material elements which are seldom to be found save in. combination with others, and which can be brought to view in separate existence only by special care. Language, also, increases our perplexity, because we have to use the same designations for objects, whether thought of with or without reference to their existence, — that is, for entities as such, and for the corresponding schemata. Nevertheless, if we recall and examine certain modifications of thought in which conceptions merely formal are used, we may renew these conceptions, and may perhaps be able to distinguish them from those of entities and of non-entities, somewhat in the same way that we distinguish the idea of man, viewed simply, from those of man as a citizen and as an alien, — that is, as being and as not being a member of some State. For example, when the previously unknown exist- conception ence of some object is asserted of it, the logical subject pertains to seems to include the conception of the schema only. the nature of . x . J tilings sim- Respecting a known entity, we may interpret the ex- ofren b sepa^ fc pression, fc ' This pen exists," as an analytical judg- rateiy exer- nient ; but when the existence is a matter of new information, and we say, " Eyeless fishes exist in the Mammoth Cave ; " or, " There is a race of men with only one eye, situated in the centre of the forehead," our language seems to be ampliative, adding to the subject an existence not previ- ously recognized as belonging to it. Or should we, in either of the above cases, assert, negatively, that such objects do not exist, we would be joining the idea of non-existence to the subject. Moreover, when the mind is in doubt as to the existence or non-existence of things, is not this a hesitation as to the combi- nation of either the idea of existence or that of non-existence with the conception of the schema in a statement of belief ? Again, schematic conceptions appear to be used whenever our consideration is exclusively directed to the nature or quality of an entit}'. For instance, when we contrast the nature of a thing with its existence, the conception of the nature ma} 7 be regarded as schematic. When we are taught that God is, and is the re- warder of those that seek him, we are led to distinguish his being from his character, and to think, in the first instance at least, of the nature, rather than of the existence, of the latter. Chap. XII] IDEAL EXISTENCES. 87 In like manner purely attributive words ma}' be said to express schematic thought. When we say, " The man is cowardly," kt The rose is red," the adjectives indicate merely form or quality. This is yet more evident in such expres- sions as ^ the cowardly man," ''the red rose;" for in these the thought of existence attaches itself primarily to the sub- stantive, being needed only there. Or should we compare two apples, both of which equally exist in all their parts and qualities, and say that the}' differ, the one being sweet and the other sour, we could scarcely be said to think of the existence of the sweetness and the sourness, — that is, so far as reference to these things is included in the thought of the difference, — because the apples differ not at all as to the exist- ence, but only as to the schema, or nature, of their qualities. Such is the doctrine of the three ultimate modes of thought. Some ma}' find it difficult to see that we can think of the nature, or schema, of things separately from the thought of their exist- ence or that of their non-existence. But if we can agree that there are at least tioo ultimate modes of thought, into the one of which the idea of existence, and into the other of which the idea of non-existence, enters, and which have a formal, or schematic, part in common, the principal end of this discussion shall have been attained. CHAPTER XII. IDEAL EXISTENCES. 1. The doctrine of the objectivity of thought has sometimes been stated too strongly. It has been said that thought is the reflex or the correlative of being, and that every thought there- fore has a being, or entity, as its object. In opposition to such teaching, we hold that we have many thoughts which have no objects whatever to correspond to them. There never were races of beings such as the dwarfish Lilliputians and the gigantic inhabitants of Brobdingnag. The wonderful stories of the ' ' Ara- bian Nights " are mere conceptions to which no actualities ever corresponded. Novels, poems, dramas, are combinations which either refer but remotely to historical facts or have no such ref- erence at all. Even in daily life the golden prospects of youth- ful fancy and the more sedate anticipations of mature days are always of that which never has been, and very frequently of that 88 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XII. which never comes to pass. It is clear that thought does not need the existence of an object apart from itself for its own ex- istence, and that it often actually takes place without the pres- entation of any object whatever. The doctrine of objectivity implies only that thought in all cases might correspond with entity, not that it always does. a difficulty ^t the same time it is to be noticed that human in philosophy i an g lia ge seems to imply that often, when there the S nature m are no objects of thought, thought provides objects of of thought. j tg owru w e speak of ideal existences, imaginary beings, fictitious scenes, supposed objects ; and, in connection with the ideas thus expressed, we emplo} T the same names and make the same statements that we would regarding true and literal existences. We say that Falstaff was an old courtier, fat, witty, and unprincipled ; that Othello, the Moor, was a danger- ous, passionate man ; that Hamlet had a veiy discreet madness ; that Lear was a sad wreck of nyyalty. We express ourselves in this way while knowing that no Falstaff, Othello, Hamlet, or Lear*, such as we think of, ever existed. Such language at first seems capable of easy explanation. It is quite common ; and the thought conve}'ed by it is instantly understood. Yet philos- ophers, when asked to define exactly an imaginary object or an ideal entity, — that is, to state in literal language what we mean in speaking of Hamlet, the prince, or Lear, the king, — have found themselves at a loss. It is certain that these objects and beings have no existence apart from the ideas of the mind, and also that if the} 7 exist in connection with our ideas, they must be those ideas themselves. We cannot recognize any other entities — that is, true and literal entities — in the case than our own thoughts or thinkings. The question, then, arises, Are these ideal existences to be identi- fied with our ideas of them ? This solution has authority in its favor ; but there are difficulties in the way of accepting it. We believe that nothing exists in the case of an imaginaiy entity save the mental state or operation ; yet we find it impossible to regard the ideal object and the mental state as the same. When one tries to believe, not that the thought of Hamlet, but that Hamlet himself, is or was an idea, the mind refuses to act. We sa}~, " Hamlet had a discreet madness." Did an idea have the discreet madness? Could an idea be fat and unprincipled? Could it be a revengeful Moor or a crazed old king? It ma}' be said that the ideal beings had such characteristics only in im- agination. But this does not help the matter. Ideas cannot have such characteristics even in imagination. The difficulty here is deep-seated : it lies in the very nature Chap. XII.] IDEAL EXISTENCES. 89 of our modes of thought. When we think of Hamlet as an ideal being, we do indeed have the idea of his existence as a man and a prince. This idea, unaccompanied by an}- belief, is a part of our conception of Hamlet. But in thus thinking of Hamlet, we have no thought of the conception of Hamlet and of its exist- ence. This thought ma} 7 accompany or follow the other, but is distinct from it. Moreover, the thought of the conception is al- ways attended with belief, for the conception really exists ; but the conception itself of Hamlet is not attended with belief. Those, therefore, who sa}- that Hamlet, as an ideal existence, is the idea of Hamlet, or the idea " Hamlet," attempt to unite two incongruous conceptions. They try to identif} T that in connection with which we have the thought of existence (the belief being excluded) with that in connection with which we have the belief of its existence. Such an endeavor must terminate in failure. We can indeed say that Hamlet is a conception of Shakspeare ; but in such a sentence "Hamlet" does not signify the ideal existence, the Prince of Denmark. The word is used in a sec- ondary sense; as when we sa} T , "Theft is a bad idea," we mean that the idea of theft, not theft itself, is a bad idea. In short, we hold that any philosophical definition detines P and of an ideal existence is an impossibilit}-. When we oni CU r S eafities as ^ wna ^ an ideal object is, we mean, With what 'can it be literally identified ? This takes for granted that an ideal object can be, and is, an existing object. Hence the absurdity of the question, and the impossibilit}' of an an- swer. Speaking soberly and philosophically, there are no such things as ideal objects and existences. They cannot be identi- fied with anything, and it is vain to inquire what they are. At the same time, when we speak and think of ideal things and beings, — of the heroes and events of poetry and romance, — our expressions and our ideas are actualities ; and philoso- phy may properly be called to explain this pecidiar use of thoughts and words, and the perplexity which we experience in its critical consideration. Imagination is the power, the marvellous power, of the mind to think thoughts as if there were entities to correspond to them, even when there are no such entities. Though imaginative, or suppositive, thought differs from knowledge, or cognitive thought, as to pliability and permanency and motive force, and in the full normal working of the soul is especially distinguished by its want of any concomitant belief, }'et, after all, as thought it is essentially of the same character with other thought. Supposi- tive is accompanied with cognitive thought when we are con- scious of imagining ; but this consciousness is not an element of 90 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XII. the act of imagining. In suppositive thought we think an idea, — say Hamlet, — but we do not think of it at all. Imagination makes no subjective reference, but simply entertains thought so far as it might possibly correspond with objects. It endeavors to construct conceptions as nearly like those of cognition as pos- sible, and succeeds admirably. These acts of the imagination affect us more or less in a wa} T similar to that in which cognitions or remembrances affect us. The lifelike experiences of Robin- son Crusoe, and even the incredible adventures of Baron Mun- chausen, move us in the same way, though not to the same degree, as if we knew them to be realities. Some explain this power of the imagination as the result of a momentary belief in the exist- ence of objects corresponding to our thoughts, — a belief which Professor Stewart maintains alwa}'s to occur, and to be corrected only by our more sober judgment. Probably the imagination itself, without the belief, has power to affect us ; but, however it is to be accounted for, the fact that we are affected is bej'ond dispute. Now when, without any presentation of fact to our minds, we think the same thoughts and are moved in the same way as when we perceive or remember existing things, and then seek to express and communicate our thoughts, vie naturally, spon- taneously, use precisely the same language as that in which we utter cognitive ideas. But the thought and the language thus emplo}'ed are not the statement of facts, and do not concern ex- istences ; they are simply the exercise and the expression of the imagination. We think and speak in the same wa}> as if we were thinking and speaking of things, and therefore seem to be think- ing and speaking of things. Whole stories are formed and told after this manner. Yet, in sober truth, we are not thinking or speaking of things at all. Strictly and in fact we are not think- ing of anything, for no object exists ; we are only thinking. If the foregoing account be correct, it is plain that our diffi- culties concerning hypothetical existences, ideal things, or im- aginary beings arise chiefly from our taking thought and language according to its primary use, when it shoidd have been taken according to a secondary use / in other words, from assuming, without reason, that things exist corresponding to imaginative thought and speech. We employ ideas and terms properly pertaining to real entities, — as when we speak of the little men and women in the land of the fairies, — while there are no entities of a kind corresponding to our thought. We have the names and the conceptions, — Macbeth, Hamlet, Lear, — while there are no such beings. Hence the expression that we think of ideal objects is not literally true. It is a metaphor, Chap. XII.] IDEAL EXISTENCES. 91 founded on the similarit}' of suppositive to cognitive thought. The fact, literally stated, is that we think in the same way as if we were thinking of objects. To say, " I think of Hamlet," means only, " I think as I would think if there w T ere a Hamlet." This leads to the remark that imaginative thought wmbSatSn anf l i ts expression are rendered doubly perplexing °f t^o kinds anc i delusive from the fact that we unite them inti- mately with cognitive thought and its expression. For example, should one sa} T that he has been thinking of Hamlet and of Shakspeare, there would be a double meaning, not very eas}~ to detect, in the expression " thinking of." A similar conjunction of suppositive and of cognitive thought takes place w r hen we sa}' that such and such objects — the fairies, for instance — exist in imagination, but not in fact. The word " exist" here has a double sense, or rather a double meaning. It is taken suppositively in the affirmative, and cognitively in the negative, part of the sentence. This difference in use is indi- cated by the phrases " in imagination" and " in fact." The full import of the sentence is that the statement, " The fairies exist," is one of suppositive thought, and not of fact, or of cognitive thought. But this meaning is given by the use of suppositive thought itself in the affirmative clause, accompanied hy an indi- cation of its true character, and of cognitive thought in the neg- ative clause, similarly accompanied. The expression "in fact/' which shows the cognitive or assertive use of thought, is an emphatic repetition of the idea of existence, whereb}' we signify that it is used literally. To saj' that a thing does not exist in fact is simply to say that, speaking literally and truly, it does not exist. Again, it seems plain language to say, "Hamlet is an ideal existence," or "Hamlet is one of Shakspeare's heroes." Yet these statements are compounded partly of suppositive and partly of actualistic thought. We say, " Hamlet is an exist- ence," "Hamlet is a hero," suppositively; and then, in the first, we add actualistically the thought "ideal" to indicate, not the nature of an}^ object, but the suppositive character of our thinking ; and, in the second, we use Shakspeare's name in the same way, to show both the suppositive character and the authorship of our conception of Hamlet. Such is the only ra- tional account of these and similar statements ; to interpret them throughout as the language of fact, or of belief, involves absurdities. Recapituia- 2. We have now discussed the question of ideal ob- dent p Pr t si J ects or existences. Respecting this subject, Presi- quoted. dent Porter says, " Scarcely any single topic has 92 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XII. been more vexed in ancient or mediaeval philosophy ; " adding that the controversy concerning it either includes or trenches upon almost every possible question in metaphysics. Many notable and fundamental errors have originated in connection with this topic, and can be fully understood and met only through a satisfactory understanding of it. The question, com- pletely stated, may be presented as a dilemma : Do ideal ob- jects exist f If they do, what are they f If they do not, ichy do we call them existences, and speak of them as such f We assert that they do not exist, and that we call them existences, and speak of them as such, while knowing that they do not ex- ist ; or, expressing ourselves more accurately, we use the same thought and the same language that we employ respecting exist- ing things, while we know that there are no existing things to correspond with our thought and language. We therefore free ourselves from the question, What are they? Then, when asked, How do we come to think and speak as if there were entities? we answer that the human soul has a native power and tendency to exercise itself in such thought and language. This imaginative — or better, imaginational — use of thought seems sometimes wholly to occupy the attention of the mind ; but sometimes it is sensibly accompanied, and sometimes it is mingled and united, with actualistic thought. But it can always be distinguished from the latter. Three principal causes have co-operated to mislead critical inquiry as to the prior question, Do ideal objects exist? and thus error and confusion have resulted through an affirmative answer. First, the difference between imaginative and cogni- tive thought, and especially our power to conceive of existence and of existing things, or entities, loithout any attendant belief in their existence, have not been fully recognized. Secondly, our imaginations often, if not alwaj's, are accompanied with a delusive belief, or rather tendency to belief, in the existence of such objects as woidd correspond to them. This tendency works unobstructed in dreaming. And, thirdly, suppositive ideas and expressions are frequently so conjoined with those of knowledge or fact, that, finding ourselves thinking and speaking contin- uously, we lose sight of the diversity in our thought. But the truth is that the language of the imagination, whatever it may seem to say or to imply, never expresses knowledge or assertion, but suppositive thought only. Such is to us a satisfactory ac- count of the whole matter. Chap. XIIL] BELIEF DEFINED. 93 CHAPTER XIIL BELIEF DEFINED. 1. We name thought and belief the primary powers of intel- lect chiefly because the importance of those powers which we call secondary is that they modif} T the workings and results of thought and belief, while that of thought and belief lies in the very working and results of these powers themselves. The analysis and synthesis of ideas and of facts, the association of fancies and memories, the abstraction and generalization of notions and of truths, the formation from a transitory process of a reproducible product of conception or conviction, are all operations subsidiary to the main work of the intellect. The exercise of thought and belief is itself this work. Of these two, however, we may acid that thought has a priorit} 1 - over belief ; for it is possible to exercise the former without the latter, but belief takes place only in connection with thought. „ . !Since belief is exercised only alone: with thought, Common Jan- » . °. guageisnot the same word often covers the combined exercise analytical. Q f ^ e two powers : such terms, for example, as "perception," "judgment," "inference," alwaj's signify such a combined exercise; while other terms, such as "belief" and "conviction," " apprehension" and " thought," which specially belong to the one power or to the other, through metonj^mical exten- sions or transitions, become positively ambiguous. The ensuing discussion will illustrate these remarks. Yet we believe that the common intellect of men does not at all confound these powers ; it simply does not emphasize the distinction between them. In distinguishing thought and belief, as primary, bS?ef g to be d from each other and from the seconda^ or subsidi- carefuiiy dis- arv ^ powers of intellect, and in pointing out the de- pendence of belief on thought, we somewhat determine our conception of both these powers. In other words, we partly define each through an enumeration of characterizing relations, which is the only way in which an) r simple mental power can be defined. The difference between thought and belief should be noted, because, as we have said, the terms "belief" and " believing" stand often for a combination of thought and be- lief, and not for belief simply. We sometimes even use the noun "belief" to indicate, not belief itself, but the form of thought which it may accompany ; for example, we speak of 94 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIII. the religious beliefs of mankind, and we say that such a reli- gious belief is entertained by such a person. This use of lan- guage exhibits the complete transition of a term from one conception to another nearly related. More frequently words indicating belief have merely an ex- pansion of significance, so that they cover the united exercise of both the primary powers of the intellect. As, when one says he thinks that such is the case, he intends to say that he both thinks and believes that such is the case, so we can scarcely deny that the statement, " I believe that such is the case," may mean that one both thinks and believes as stated. In like man- ner the assertion, " Lincoln cherished belief — or a belief — in the doctrine of Divine Providence," may easily mean that he cherished both a conception of the doctrine and a reliance upon it as true. Similar variations of signification might be observed in other words which express credence, such as " faith," " confi- dence," " trust." NeVertheless, we hold that thought and belief are different things, and we would maintain this distinction even though these things were never distinguished and opposed in ordinary speech, and were separated only in philosophical analysis. They are, hoioever, often contrasted in the statements of common life. For instance, were a man accused of theft without any evidence, men would allow that they had the thought of that evil action without any accompanying belief; and if proper proof were presented, they would agree that they not only understood the charge, but believed it. In this way the two things would be presented as clearly distinguishable. 2. Belief, as thus distinguished, might be called inciudes r ° per belief proper. It is that belief which is sometimes every degree described as "the receiving, taking, accepting, or of conviction. , , ... ,, , , ,, & , . V , L n j, holding a thing as true : that is, the action of the power of belief is thus st} T led ; for in this, as in other simi- lar cases, the power and its action go by the same name. In the above statement the word "thing" does not signify the fact, which may be the object of thought, but only the concep- tion of the fact ; for not the fact, but only our conception of it, can be taken or accepted as true. This is said to be received and held by the mind, because, in exercising belief, we think the thought of the object with an increase of attention and in- terest and purpose. And } T et even this grasping of a concep- tion does not appear to be the essence of believing, but rather a characteristic result or accompaniment. The statement that the mind in credence rests or reposes on a thing as true is analogi- cal also, and marks the intellectual act b} T that cessation from Chap. XIII] BELIEF DEFINED. 95 doubt and inquiry which follows the acceptance of a proposition as true. No figurative expression, however, can indicate ex- actly the conception of belief, or even convey this conception, to any one who may not be already possessed of it. It is a peculiar and simple thought. Again, w r e remark that ''belief," in the generic sense now contemplated, includes ever}* degree of conviction, from the feeblest to the strongest. The merest presumption and the most absolute certainty are alike manifestations of this power. This is to be noticed, because when the degree, and not simply the nature, of intellectual confidence is prominent in our thought, the word " belief" frequently becomes limited in its application, and indicates a Conviction not so strong as certainty, yet stronger than suspicion or presumption. Men say in regard to some statement that they believe it, perhaps firmly believe it, and yet are not perfectly certain of it ; or, on the other hand, that they have a mere surmise or conjecture, and not a positive belief, concerning it. The various degrees of credence are indicated by such words as " presuming," "conjecturing," •• guessing," -•supposing," "trusting," "thinking," "believing," "appre- hending," "seeing," "knowing," and the like ; most of which terms, however, evidently cover more than mere intellectual confidence. Yet while the term "belief" expresses this mod- erate degree of conviction, it is also used for conviction in general ; and these uses can easily be distinguished. The word "conviction" has nearly the same meaning as "belief;" but strictly it signifies belief regarded, not simply per se, but as pro- duced by the contemplation of evidence, for which reason it is seldom used in cases in which the evidence ma}' be very slight. At this point it ma}* illustrate our subject, and clear knowhS&e awa J some perplexities, to consider three several dis- variousiy tinctions which have been expressed by the opposition a" err«»ne- of the term "belief" to other terms, and principally tio S n distiuc " t0 the term "knowledge." The first has just been suggested. According to it, knowledge is the most perfect form of conviction, being both absolute and well- founded / while belief is a less assured confidence. Knowledge of this description — such, for example, as that of one's own existence or of the existence of Queen Victoria — is closely allied to certainty ; for when one is fully certain of a thing, no evidence can add to the strength of his conviction. We may, however, be certain on insufficient evidence, and then we do not know, but only think we know. We may be certain of what is not the fact, and such certainty is not knowledge. But when we have certainty, — that is, full and absolute belief, — and this 96 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIII. certainty rests on good and sufficient evidence, then we have knowledge. Knowledge is simply well-founded certainty j and belief, as contrasted with this knowledge, is conviction of some degree falling short of certainty. Plainly, these two things are of the same radical nature ; both are modes of belief in the generic sense. This is taught in the saying that "to see is to believe ; " for to see is also to know. According to the second distinction, no less than according to the first, knowledge and belief divide between them the sphere of conviction, or of belief in general. Indeed, the second dis- tinction seems to have originated from the first ; for because we are certain of things immediately perceived, while generallj r our belief is less confident respecting things learned through testimony or rational proof, the conviction of immediate cogni- tion, or that nearly immediate, has been called knowledge, while that based on testimony, or on evidence not immediate or obtrusive, is called belief. This distinction is important, and clearlt different from the one alreadj T mentioned. It is that which the Bible makes between faith and sight. It may be roughly expressed by saying that knowledge is immediate, and belief mediate, conviction. But it is to be noticed that the faith, or belief, of this second distinction may, through sufficient and well-considered evidence, become the knowledge of the first dis- tinction, — in other words, perfect and well-grounded assurance. For if the evidence of a distant and unseen fact — as, for ex- ample, of the existence of Queen Victoria — be faultless, there is no reason why we should not be absolutely certain of it ; and this is knowledge. In the exercise of such faith, the man of God can say, " I know that my Redeemer liveth." Beside the foregoing distinctions, in which belief is contrasted with knowledge, there is another, in which it is opposed to both thought and knowledge, and indeed to every accepted mode of mental activity. It is a distinction advocated by those who follow the teachings of Kant concerning the limitations of the thinkable and the know able. Hamilton, Mansel, and others hold that the human mind cannot even conceive of things in- finite, and, consequently, that we can have no knowledge or belief, such as we have alread}' considered, and such as we commonly exercise, concerning God. To make room for the possibility of religion, they assert that there is a feeling, or faith, or belief, different from knowledge and independent of all thought, by which in some wa} T man apprehends or lays hold upon the Infinite. This conception of faith, or belief, is little more than a device for the purpose of escaping from the con- sequences of an erroneous doctrine. Chap. XIII.] BELIEF DEFINED. 97 It is not true that we cannot have correct ideas concerning God, and even concerning his Infinity. The thought of an infinite or unlimited entity is by no means an impossibility. We can conceive of some object admitting of quantity — space or time, for example — as bounded; and after that we can con- ceive of it as not bounded, replacing the positive by a negative characteristic. Ideas thus formed of things infinite especially occur in mathematics ; and the}' are neither futile attempts at thought, nor yet mere negative conceptions, but positive con- ceptions with negative characteristics. It is true we cannot conceive of any infinite entity as being finite in those respects in which it is infinite ; and therefore we cannot think of it as havins: various boundaries such as must always enter into our conceptions of finite objects. To attempt this may be natural for ns, as it is in the line of our ordinary modes of thought, but it is a waste of effort. Endeavoring to imagine infinite space as a vast hollow sphere or firmament, bounded by a surface, we inevitably fail. But this is not a failure to form a conception of the infinite. We therefore reject this so-called belief, or faith, as a useless and worse than useless fiction. The adoption of it, without evidence, in order to escape difficulties which origi- nate in error, can afford no lasting refuge from perplexity. Like that huge fish on which Sindbad the sailor built a fire, supposing himself on solid land, and which soon left him to buffet with the waves, this faith can only afford a temporary resting-place for distressed philosophers. Theessen- 3. We now come to a very essential point in the tiai point, philosophy of belief, — that is, of conviction in gen- eral. Although belief never exists save in connection with thought, and always has thought for its object, it primarily attaches itself either to the one or the other of two thoughts, and to other ideas only as they may have one of these thoughts contained in, or conjoined with them. These two cardinal notions are those of existence and of non-existence. Every statement of belief ma}' be reduced to one of the formulas, " Such a thing is," and " Such a thing is not ; " and all cases of doubt, or of inability to affirm or den}' an understood proposition, arise from want of conviction as to the existence or the non-existence of something. We do not identify belief in the existence or non-existence of a thing with the thought of its existence or non- existence, but we say that we always believe in such a thought. When we conceive of a thing as existing or as non-existing, and emphasize the notion of existence or of non-existence, the form of thought thus produced is a proposition, and may always be expressed by lt Hoc est," or " Hoc non est." This proposi- 7 98 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIII. tional thought, per se, is merely enunciative ; it is not in any sense belief, but only the condition or preparation for belief. In the exercise of it, we treat truth and falsehood very much alike. "The man is guilt}'" and "The man is not guilty" are equally complete propositions, though we may believe the one and disbelieve the other, or ma}' have no conviction about either. But when, in the exercise of perception or judgment, we con- fide in, and rest upon, a propositional thought in its use as representative of things, this is the exercise of belief. Such a proposition then receives a new character : it is no longer a mere enunciation, it is an assertion ; and this power of inwardly asserting a proposition — of mentally accepting, holding, and presenting it as a statement of reality — is the main character- istic of belief. It might be called the assertivity of belief. It will be noticed that thought merely enunciative is expressed in precisely the same forms of language as assertive thought, just as an i m agin aiy story is told in the same language as a real • ' history. This, of course, gives no ground to dispute the dis- tinction between enunciation and assertion. But it may some- times be necessar} 7 to inquire whether one be making an assertion or merely stating a proposition. It is also to be noticed that although we often speak things means of believing in things, — that is, in entities, — this is thinfasex- on h* a saort wa .V °f saying that we believe in their jsting; i e., existence/ and this, again, as we have seen, is only "bought cf an incomplete wa}' of expressing our belief in the them as ex- thouqht of their existence. For instance, in a clis- istin * pute respecting the reputed wealth of some one, we might sa}' that we believe in his wealth, or do not believe in it ; and we might express ourselves in the same way as to the asserted guilt of a prisoner, or the alleged meaning of a law, or the claimed excellence of some mode of trial, or anything else in which one might be said to believe. Such language signifies our belief in the existence of the wealth, or guilt, or meaning, or excellence specified ; and this belief is only belief in the propo- sition that such wealth or other entity exists. Thus it might be shown that no entity — that is, no conception of an entity — is ever an object of belief save only as it enters into a proposition or statement, and that propositions, statements, histories, and doctrines are objects of belief only because they continually set forth or enunciate the existence or the non-existence of things. Here, however, it may be asked, Do we not as truth or e frequently sa} r that we believe a thing to be true or falsity oi a false as that we believe a thing to be or not to be; and if so, is not belief in the truth or falsity of a Chap. XIII.] BELIEF DEFINED. 99 thing just as radical a form of intellectual action as belief in its existence or non-existence? For simplicit}', let us chiefly consider belief in the existence of something ; as belief in the non-existence of anything is, in itself, of precisety the same nature. Let us also take belief in the truth of any statement, positive or negative, to illustrate belief in its falsity ; for the latter, which is often called disbelief, is simply belief in the contradictory opposite of a statement. In regard, then, to the foregoing questions, we remark that our belief that a thing is true differs materially from our belief that a thing exists. The " thing " of the first belief is a propo- sitioned thought (named perhaps by metoirynry from its ob- ject), and our belief is that this is true ; for only propositions can be true or false. The " thing" of the other belief is not a proposition, but the object about which the proposition is made ; and the belief is that this thing exists. Such being the difference between these two descriptions of belief, we say that the belief that a thing is true is a form of mental action conditioned upon, and secondary to, the belief that a thing is; for before we can believe a proposition to be true, we must first believe that the thing or state of things set forth in the proposition is a reality. In other words, we must believe that a thing exists before we can believe that the statement that it exists is true. Sometimes we say that a statement is true, or correct, in order to call attention to its ac- curacy and excellence ; more frequently we say that a state- ment is true, meaning thereby only that what it sets forth is fact. In this latter mode of assertion we simpty emplo} T one fact of existence to indicate another ; that is, the fact of the truth of the statement is used to indicate the existe?ice of the thing about which the statement is made. This use of thought and language is evidently subsidiary to the more simple and direct statement of belief. It is also less radical ; for it implies that we primarily believe in the existence of a thing, and is itself a complex example of that very belief in existence. For to believe in the truth of a statement is simply to believe in the existence of its truth. The truth of proposi- tional thought is a relation of correspondence between it, on the one hand, and its objects, as existing, on the other ; to be- lieve in the truth of such thought, therefore, is to believe both in the existence of the objects of the thought and in the existence of the correspondence between the thought and its objects. Thomas -^ ne correctness of the view now presented may be Aquinas deduced from a definition of truth framed by the ablest of the schoolmen, and which, according to Sir L.OFC. 100 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIV. William Hamilton, is accepted by all philosophers. " Veritas intel- lectus," says Aquinas, "est adsequatio intellectus et rei, secundum quod intellectus dicit esse, quod est, vel non-esse, quod non est ; " which may be rendered, " The truth of thought is a correspond- ence of thought and fact, according to which thought says that what is, is, or that what is not, is not." Here Aquinas teaches that a thought or proposition is true, and can be so regarded, onl\ r as correctly setting forth that something exists or does not exist. From this it follows that we must believe in the existence or in the non-existence of a thing before we can believe in the truth (or trueness) of the proposition that it is, or is not. And so we conclude, again, that the proper and primary object of belief is the proposition in which existence or non-existence is directly asserted, and not the truth of this proposition. The lat- ter — or rather the propositional thought presenting it — is a secondary and subsidiary object of belief. CHAPTER XIV. THEORIES RESPECTING CONVICTION. 1. The word " belief " often indicates a degree of intellectual con- fidence which falls short of knowledge, and which yet is stronger than mere guesswork or presumption. We sometimes say that we believe, but that we do not know, that so and so is the case. But now we include under belief every act of the mind in which we take, accept, or hold a thing as true, whether we do this feebly or firmly, and whether we have good grounds for doing so or not. In this sense be- lief admits of many degrees, and varies from the merest presumption of possibility to the most perfect assurance of fact ; and it includes knowledge, for knowledge is nothing else than absolute and well- founded certainty. A wide use Let us also make a wide use of the term "judgment." of the term This ordinarily signifies the faculty of forming probable " judgmeut " beliefs or convictions. Mr. Locke says: "The faculty which God has given to man to supply the want of clear and cer- tain knowledge, where that cannot be had, is judgment, whereby the mind . . . takes any proposition to be true or false, without per- ceiving demonstrative evidence in the proofs." According to this meaning judgment, as the initial act of belief, must be distinguished from cognition, which is the initial act of knowledge. Let us, how- ever, give the same extension to the term "judgment " that we have already given to the term "belief;" am in that case, of course, we must admit cognition to be a kind of judgment in the same way that knowledge is a kind of belief This wide sense of the term ' ' j udg- Chap. XIV.] THEORIES RESPECTING CONVICTION. 101 ment " is very commonly employed by the philosophers and logicians of the present day. By a natural metonymy the terms "belief" and "judgment" are applied to the operations and mental products of these powers, as well as to the powers themselves. We speak not only of belief and judg- ment, but also of beliefs and judgments, and of a judgment or a belief. This secondary use of language, which need cause us no con- fusion, should be granted the same extended application which we have asked for the more primary. Because, in determining a probability, the reasons for doing so be- come more or less prominent in thought, judging generally means not simply the formation of belief, but the formation of belief on evidence. It will matter little for our present purpose whether this be included in our conception or not, although it is true that one believes always on some ground. In like manner the word " conviction," which sig- nifies a belief necessitated by some evidence, may now be used as simply synonymous with "belief." 2. Here also, as another preliminary, let us state a point menTmaybe on which philosophers are agreed. It is that every act of expressed by judgment or belief may be expressed by means of a propo- a proposi- s ition. This need not be argued as regards the convic- tions of the rational faculty; every one knows that these are expressed by propositions. And as concerns the cognitions of immediate perception, it can be easily shown that these, when analyti- cally expressed, instantly assume the propositional form. This has been done by President Porter, who calls these presentational cogni- tions "primary, natural, and psychological judgments." For exam- ple, holding an orange and looking at it, one can say, " This object exists, and it is round and rough and yellow." Then, opening and tasting it, he can add, " This round, rough, yellow object is sweet and juicy." But these statements, expressive of one's immediate perceptions, are regular propositions, such as logicians describe. The reason why sense-cognitions and rational convictions can both assume the propositional form, is that they have a community of na- ture. Both are judgments, in the wide sense of that term. Indeed, presentative knowledge is transformed into logical knowledge simply by analytical elaboration. The beliefs of memory, which are repro- duced cognitions, may also, of course, be set forth in propositions. 3. The views of philosophers regarding the radical na- « something ture of our beliefs or convictions are given to us mostly in of some- their doctrines concerning judgment, and concerning the mg " proposition as the form which every judgment takes when fully expressed. Aristotle 1 defines a proposition to be " a sentence which affirms or denies something of something." The most important word in this statement is the preposition " of," signifying the connection of one thing with another. The doctrine of Aristotle is that a judgment is the acceptance or the rejection, in our thought, of a union of things. Thus, in asserting, " The man is handsome," we accept a synthesis; but in asserting, " The man is not handsome," we reject one. 1 Prior Analytics, chap. i. 102 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIV. He inculcates this same doctrine when he says that " affirmation is the assertion of something of, or concerning (Kara), something, and denial the assertion of something from, or away from (aVo), some- thing." And this is yet more especially taught when we are told, first, that " to be " and " not to be " (flvai and prj ehai) signify the truth and the falsehood (to dXrjBes kcu t6 yj/evdos) of the statements in which they are used, and then that these four predicables- — existence, non-existence, truth, and falsehood — pertain to the conjunction and separation of things. " To be," he says, "is to be united and one; not to be is to be disunited and many." And he asserts that a propo- sition is true or false as setting forth things according or not according to their composition and division. Ilepi yap avvdeo-Lv kcu diaipeaiv ian to ^Isevdos re kcu to akndes. 1 These teachings are the origin of the common doctrine that the copula — that is, the verb "to be" as the assertive part of proposi- tions — does not have its own proper signification of existence, but indicates simply an agreement of ideas, or a connection of things; and that "not to be," in like manner, signifies a disconnection, or disagreement, between subject and predicate. Locke's 4. A doctrine differing in form rather than in substance "agreement from that of Aristotle was introduced into modern phi- mentf'^of 6 " l 0S0 P n y through the writings of Locke and Leibnitz, ideas. Leib- "Truth," says Locke, "signifies nothing but the joining nitz. or separating of signs, as the things signified by them do agree or disagree with one another. The joining or separating of signs here meant is what, by another name, "we call propositions. So that truth properly belongs only to propositions ; whereof there are two sorts, mental and verbal, as there are two sorts of signs commonly made use of, 'namely, ideas and words." He tells us, also, that it is in the exercise of the faculties of knowledge and judgment that "the mind takes its ideas to agree or disagree, or, which is the same thing, any proposition to be true or false." 2 Thus Mr. Locke makes judg- ment a joining or separating of ideas according to their agreement or disagreement, while yet he teaches that this agreement or disagree- ment does not primarily belong to our ideas, but to "the things sig- nified by them." He differs from Aristotle chiefly because that, instead of the wide relations of connection and separation which are indicated by Kara and dno, he employs the more specific conceptions of agreement and disagreement. Both philosophers make judgment a composition or a division of ideas, in their use as representative of things. Locke's statement has been adopted by most modern thinkers. First among these was Leibnitz, his great contemporary, who also gave it an important modification. Having repeated a teaching of Locke, that the agreement or disagreement of our ideas is of four different sorts, — namely, those of identity or diversity, those of rela- tion, those of co-existence or connection, and those of real existence, — he observes that relation, the second of these categories (or generic 1 De Interpretation, chaps, iii., v., vi., and x. ; and Metaphysics, book iv. chap, vii., and book viii. chap. x. 2 Essay, book ii. chap, xxxii. § 19, and book iv. chaps, i. and xiv. Chap. XIV.] THEORIES RESPECTING CONVICTION. 103 classes), if taken in a wide sense, may include them all He concludes, therefore, that all our knowledge is a perception of relations. He teaches, also, that some relations are those of comparison, — for example, those of identity, diversity, likeness, and unlikeness, — while others are those of connection or co-existence; and then he declares that the most important of these relations of connection is that of real ex- istence. And he says that this existence, when predicated of an object, may be regarded as the conjunction of the object with one's self. "On peut aussi concevoir l'existence de l'objet d'une idee corarae le concours de cet objet avecmoi." 1 The main doctrine of Leibnitz reappears in the writings of Sir William Hamilton, Presi- dent Porter, and others, who teach that judgment is the faculty of per- ceiving relations, and of uniting objects in thought by means of this perception. 2 Rei.i J s **■ ^ ne won derful vitality of the Aristotelic doctrine of Mill. "A conviction may be seen in the preference given, by various predicate of leading authors since the time of Locke, to the ancient u Jec form of statement. Thomas Reid, the father of modern intuitionalism, having stated that " the definition commonly given of judgment by the more ancient writers in logic was, that it is an act of the mind whereby one thing is affirmed or denied of another," declares, ik i believe this is as good a definition of it as can be given. 7 ' And John Stuart Mill, the association alist apostle, says: " A propo- sition is a portion of discourse in which a predicate is affirmed or denied of a subject." This is the teaching also of Herbert Spencer. One remark of Mill's is. noticeable as betraying an unconscious dis- satisfaction with the leading doctrine advocated by himself and by his school, — the doctrine that belief may be accounted for by a strong or inseparable association of ideas. He says: ' k To determiue what it is that happens in the case of assent or dissent, besides putting two ideas together, is one of the most intricate of metaphysical problems." Like Leibnitz and Locke, Mill gives a classification of things predi- oable. He says: " Existence, co-existence, sequence, causation, and resemblance, one or other of these is asserted or denied in every propo- sition without exception. He also offers a definition of existence similar to that of Leibnitz. " The existence of a phenomenon is but another word for its being perce'iced, or for the inferred possibility of per- ceiving it. My belief that the Emperor of China exists is simply my belief that if I were transported to the imperial palace, or some other- locality in Pekin, I should see him. My belief that Julius Caesar ex- isted is my belief that I should have seen him if I had been present in the field of Pharsalia, or in the senate-house at Rome " In other words, according to Mr. Mill, when we assert existence of some object, we assert that it is related to us in that it is, or might be, perceived. 3 Kant: "die ^- ^ e t us now turn to the opinions of Immauuel Kant, Simihciikeit who laid the foundations for German idealism at Konigs- nunft 1 " Vei Der S' while Reid was expounding intuitionalism in Glas- gow. Kant's general term for conviction of every kind 1 Nouveaux Essais. liv. 5 v. chap. i. 2 Hamilton's Met., lect. xx. ; Porter's Human Intellect, part iii. chap, v- 3 See Reid s Essays, Mill's Logic, and Spencer's Psychology. 104 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIV. and degree is " Erkenntniss," or cognition. This results from the ap- plication of the conceptions of the understanding (" Verstand ") to the intuitions or representations (" Anshauungen") of the sensuous faculty. These are not intuitions or representations in any English sense of the words, for we are not to suppose that anything is really perceived or represented. They are rather mere felt appearances. Judgment (" Urtheilskraft ") is the faculty which unites a plurality of intuitions into a unity under some concept (" Begriff ") of the understanding, and so produces a cognition. Cognition, therefore, is the product of the synthetic action of thought and sensibility. For example, should the sensuous faculty (" die Sinnlichkeit ") give certain feelings indicative of size, solidity, and downward pressure, then the judgment, using the categories of substance and of reality, would assert, " This is a heavy body," But if such sense-intimations were not given, but only imagined, then the judgment, retaining the con- ception of substance, but employing the category of possibility instead of that of existence, would say, " There might be such a thing as a heavy body.;' This may explain Kant's meaning when he condemns the doctrine that " a judgment is a representation of a relation between two ideas," and teaches that " a judgment is nothing else than the mode of bring- ing given cognitions to the objective unity of the consciousness," — that is, to that, oneness of conception which conscious intelligence re- quires. Moreover, according to Kant, the categories, or concept-forms, of modality, — namely, possibility, reality, and necessity, — though they help to give unity to our cognitions, do not enlarge the conception of the object, u but only express its relation to the faculty of cognition " (" sondern nur das Verh'altniss zum Erkenntnissvermogen aus- driicken '). In other words, like Leibnitz and Mill, he makes the existence of an object to consist in its being related to our faculties. 1 7. We have now briefly stated the opinions of leading error o? phi*- philosophers respecting the action of the mind in believing, losophers re- First, Aristotle makes it an affirming or denying something speoting con- f somethinq ; then Locke teaches that it is the ioininq or VICtlOIl. J ••" ' , ,. 7 . J ,. J separating oj ideas according to their agreement or disagree- ment. But these both hold that we jud^e of entities really separate and different from ourselves. Mr. Mill also says that the subject and predicate, which are employed in affirmation or denial, stand for things; his "things," however, prove to be nothing more than mere feelings, or possibilities of feeling, which tend to unite or to separate by reason of some habit, or association. Finally, Kant, more directly, ex- plains belief as a purely subjective synthesis, which gives us no reason to believe in things separate from, or beyond, the exercise of our own faculties. He calls certain " cognitions " objective only because they follow a fixed, order, and not the choice of our wills. The doctrine common to all these philosophers, and to many others represented by them, is that conviction is essentially a process of the composition or division of mental states ; for even Kant, who speaks mostly of synthesis, would say that the judgment of disbelief involves the separation from one's thought of the category of reality. 1 Compare Lotze, Outlines of Metaphysic, § 10. Chap XV] JUDGMENT. 105 We reject these various teachings as erroneous and misleading. Only confusion can result if judgment be denned as the affirming or denying one thing of another ; or as the recognition of the agreement or disagreement of ideas; or as the perception of a relatedness or a non- relatedness between objects or between conceptions ; or as the effectuation of some synthesis or some separation of mental or psychical states. Our reasons for this opinion might be given in the shape of objec- tions to the foregoing theories. Bub, in the present instance, we think that the elucidation of the truth will be more profitable than the exam- ination of error, and will prove the best possible refutation of the error. We shall content ourselves, therefore, with maintaining the position that judgment is the mental assertion of the existence or of the non-existence of things. This view is involved in the doctrine, already taught, that belief always attaches itself to one or other of the two thoughts of ex- istence and non-existence. The theory of judgment and belief, which we advocate, is so simple and evident that one wonders whether there can be any discussion over it; yet it has not hitherto been taught by philosophers, and it should not be accepted without consideration. CHAPTER XV. JUDGMENT. 1. The account commonly given of propositions aiKi^asTer? overlooks the difference between a proposition merely ttnpdtetin- thought, and a proposition believed. Logicians gen- erally — for example, President Porter and President McCosh — teach that "a proposition is a judgment expressed in words" This is not a satisfactory statement. It is a definition of propositions from the chief use we make of them, and not from their own nature. A proposition may be completely formed and enunciated without any judgment. We must distinguish be- tween the enunciative and the assertive proposition. The former expresses thought, or conception, only ; the latter, thought and belief also. A proposition, simply as such, is merely enuncia- tive. At the beginning of every criminal trial the jury has two propositions in mind, — namely, "The man is guilty," and u The man is not guilty," — but neither of these is yet a matter of judgment or belief. Dr. Reid calls our attention to this point. " A proposition," he says, u may be simply conceived, without judging of it; but when there is not only 7 a conception of the proposition, but a mental affirmation or negation, an assent or dissent of the un- derstanding, that is judgment." Let us remember that we may 106 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XV. think and state propositions without entertaining anj T belief respecting the matters which they may bring under our con- sideration. 2. Such being the case, the question arises, How sitioif an° p0 " does the doctrine that judgment is the assertion of existential existence or of non-existence agree with the admitted thought. , J . , L ,° , , fact that every judgment may be expressed by means of a proposition? We reply that a very satisfactory proof of the new doctrine may be found in a right understanding of the essential force of propositions; because, on examination, we discover every proposition to be nothing else than the explicit statement of an existential thought. For we may divide propo- sitions into two comprehensive classes, and ma} 7 say that the function of one of these classes is to set forth the existence or the non-existence of the subject- object of the proposition, and that the function of the other class is to set forth the existence or the non-existence of the predicate-object of the proposition. In illustration of the first class we may say, " God exists," or "God does not exist;" because in these statements the sub- ject is set forth as existing and as non-existent. The second class may be exemplified by the statements, "God is wise," "God is not selfish;" for in these we assert the existence of wisdom, and the non-existence of selfishness, in God. The predica- It is marvellous that the distinction noio presented tion proper. j s n0 f ^ oe found in any logical treatise, and cannot be expressed in the terminology of any text-booh. Both classes of propositions — those which assert the existence or the non- existence of the subject, and those which assert the existence or the non-existence of the predicate — are placed without discrimi- nation under the head of predications. Let us note, however, that propositions of the second class have a better right than those in the first class to be styled predications ; for it is onty in them that we truly predicate one thing of another. The statements, "God is wise," "God is not selfish," may be de- scribed as an affirming and a denying one entity of another ; for wisdom and selfishness are both things, or entities. But when we say, "God is," or "God is not," we do not predicate one thing of another ; for existence and non-existence are not things : we onl}' assert existence or non-existence of God. We might therefore distinguish propositions of the first class as simple existential statements, and say that those of the second class are predications proper. Now, that ever} T predication proper sets forth the existence or the non-existence of its predicate-object may be shown, because such a proposition can always be converted, by a little ingenuity, Chap. XV.] JUDGMENT. 107 into a direct existential statement. For example, instead of the ordinary mode of expression, we can sa}~ that "Wisdom, as something in God, exists," and that "Selfishness, as a divine attribute, does not exist;" so, also, instead of "John walks," or "John is not walking," we can sa} T "Walking as an action of John exists," or "does not exist." But here some one rna\~ argue : If such be the essen- anduse g of tial significance of predications, why do not men say predications j us ( %ohat they mean f Why do they not always employ simple existential statements? We reply that the ordinary forms of speech do express just what men mean, and this, too, in the best possible manner. For sometimes we de- sire to sa}* that something considered per se, or without reference to its connections with other things, exists or does not exist ; and then we use the direct mode of statement. But, more fre- quently, we wish to assert the existence or the non-existence of something as in relation to something else which is already known or assumed to exist / in this case we find it convenient to mention first, and as the subject of the sentence, that which is already known to be, and then, in the predicate part of the proposition, to present that the existence of which is asserted or denied. For we must mark that no predication proper ever asserts or denies the existence of its subject. The statement, "John is not walking," does not assert the non-existence of John; nor does the statement, "John is walking," assert his existence. In each case John is assumed as a fact already known, and the assertion concerns only the walking as related to John. The origin of Moreover, there is no inexplicable mystery in the the copula- circumstance that the copulative verb, though in im- tive verb. mediate grammatical relation to the subject, sets forth the existence or the non-existence of the predicate. Primeval language appears to have had no term to express the abstract idea of existence. To indicate this thought, verbs signifying to begin, to grow, to breathe, to live, to stand, to remain, were employed, because such verbs specially directed attention to the existence of that which began, or grew, or breathed, or lived, or remained. Hence " existere," in Latin, meaning "to emerge," and yeveaOai, in Greek, meaning "to be born," came to signify existence. To this cause, also, we trace the various irregular par^ts of the verb " to be," both in our own and in other languages. The English "is" and "am," the Latin "sum" and "esse," and the Greek et/xt and elVcu, are identical with the Sanskrit " asmi," signifying originally "to breathe," and "the meanings of which 108 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XV. were probably developed in the following order : breathe, live, be." 1 The German " bin " and " bist," the English " be " and " been," and the Latin " fui" and " futurus," are identical with cfiveo-Oai, signifying "to grow or spring up." "War" and "gewesen" in German, and "was" and "were" in English, are derived from a Sanskrit root ("was") meaning "to dwell or stay." When, therefore, our distant forefathers would assert the existence of some one, the}' said, " The man was born," or " The man dwells," or " The man shall breathe ; " birth, dwell- ing, and breath being mentioned simply to indicate being. After a period of such use these verbs lost their original and proper force, and came to signify existence only. But now it will be seen that before these verbs lost their own peculiar meanings, they were fitted to indicate the existence of the predicate placed after them just as well as that of the subject placed before them. For, in saying, "The tree stands strong ; the tree grows high ; the tree remains green," the adjectives " strong," "high," "green," are connected with the verbs after the man- ner of grammatical limitation, and the whole stress of the predication plainly falls on them. So, even to our ears, the expressions, "He lives righteous; he breathes happy," would assert the existence of the righteousness and of the happiness of some one; while "He breathes not happy ; he lives not righteous," would indicate the non-existence of these things. Clearly the verb " to be," even in its secondary use as the copula in predications, is employed to signify existence and non-exist- ence ; and so it is put beyond question that the essential aim of every proposition is to express existential thought. Judgment ^' Judgment and belief, therefore, are not a con- and belief junction or a separation of our conceptions of things ; they are an exercise of mental confidence in connection with the thoughts of existence and of non existence. Accordingly, we can conceive of things, both synthetically and analytically, without any exercise of belief respecting the things conceived of; we can entertain convictions concerning things viewed separately as well as when the}' may be considered with reference to their connections ; and even when we do use the composition or the separation of thought in the expression of our belief, it cannot be said that the mental compounding of things is specially connected with affirmation, or that the mental partition of things is specially connected with denial. For a union of things may be non-existent and may be denied, and a separation of things may be existent and may be affirmed. We 1 Curtius, Greek Etymology, § 378. Chap. XV.] JUDGMENT. 109 can even think of things as existing or as non-existent without believing in their existence or in their non-existence. One wonders at the confusion affecting the doctrines of phi- losophers respecting judgment and conviction. We trace it to their failure to note the difference between thought and the belief which may or ma} T not accompany thought, and to their attempt, consequent upon this want of discrimination, to ex- plain belief and disbelief as a compounding and a dividing of conceptions. 4. But here some one ma} T say : Granting that the fitness of propositions to express conviction arises from their constitution as forms of existential thought, and that some propositions set forth the existence or non-existence of the subject, while others set forth the existence or non-existence of the predicate, yet in this latter class of statements, which have been distinguished as predications proper, is it not true that the thing immediately judged and asserted to be or not to be, is always and essentially a relation, — that is, the relation between the subject-object and the predicate- object of the proposition f Evidently the doc- trine thus suggested, while conceding the main points for which we have contended, would somewhat justify the teachings of those who sa} T that all judgment and cognition consist in the per- ception of relations ; for it would teach that the majority of our judgments ma} r be thus described. We cannot, however, accept this doctrine. We cannot allow that predications proper set forth only the existence or the non- existence of relations. Such sometimes is their force ; more frequently they express belief in regard to things which are indeed related, yet which are not relations. When we say, "John walks, or is walking," we set forth, not the relation of the action to the agent, but the existence of the action. The relation is implicated in the fact of the action, but is not the point of the assertion. Aristotle teaches the true doctrine when he says that predication deals not with relations alone, but with " whatever may be inherent or non-inherent in any subject : " that is, predication sets forth whatever may or may not be naturally conjoined in being with any given entit}' ; for spaces, times, quantities, qualities, powers, actions, changes, and com- binations of these things are all, in this way, set forth as existent or as non-existent. Let us illustrate this point by quoting and applying one^nhe 11 y tfie teaching of Aristotle. " The categories," he sa3~s, categories of "are ten in number, — what a thing is, quantity, quality, relation, where, when, position, possession, action, passion ; " and he adds that every proposition signifies 110 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XV. either what a thing is, or some other category. 1 We accept this statement so far as regards predications proper. These cate- gories seem to be an exhaustive classification of those modes of predicative conception which men naturally use. The first sets forth what a thing is, and has also been named ova-ia, or substance. It is that emplo3'ed when we predicate one noun of another, either affirmatively or negatively ; for example, "John is, or is not; a man." It is the generic form of that large class of propositions which Locke and Leibnitz place under the head of identity and diversity / for the thing immediately asserted to be, or not to be, is identity, — that is, the identity of "John" with " a man." This, though not expressed by any word, is indicated by the juxtaposition of the terms "John " and "man," with only the verb " to be" between them ; just as we indicate identity in saying, "John, a man whom I saw yes- terday," or " John is the man whom I saw yesterdaj T ." But it is essential to remark that this category does not use the relation of identity for its own sake ; it emplo}'s it as the instrument of asserting or denying some nature of the subject. For John, being a man, must have all the attributes of a man ; while.if he is not a man, — if, for example, he is a horse, — he cannot be said to have them. Thus this categoiy uses one fact in order to state another. Again, when we sa}-, "John is six feet high, we assert that a certain quantity of height, or length, exists in John. When we say, "John is kind and strong," we state that the qualities of kindness and strength exist in John. The predication, " John is the son of William," is, in form, one of identit}", — a form under which every category may be expressed ; but the essential fact set forth is a relatedness of John, to William. " John is in a house," has a double force ; it tells, first that there is a house, and then, that John is in it. Hence the categor} T of place, some- times at least, asserts more than mere local relation. "John will come at noon," in answer to the question " When will John come?" also has a doubleness : it calls attention, first, to a certain length of time about to exist and elapse between the present time and noon ; and then to the relation of simul- taneity which shall exist between John's coming and midday. The categories of position and possession might perhaps be better named those of posture and condition. The}' also have a complexity. We assert a posture in sa}ing, "John is sitting," or "John is resolved;" this language indicating a mutual ad- justment of the parts of John's body or of the thoughts of his 1 Topics, book i. chap. ix. Chap. XVI.] KNO WLED GE. Ill mind, and, in addition, the external relation of this adjustment ; for one sits on some seat, and is resolved on some conduct. But a condition would be asserted in saving, " John is well," or " John is wealth}' ; " for this language indicates both the existence of health and wealth, and the state in which John finds himself as the possessor of one or other of these blessings. The cate- gory of posture sets forth the existence of an external state as arising from internal adjustments ; that of condition the exist- ence of an internal state, together with that of its cause, be the cause what it may. Finally, "John strikes" sets forth the existence of an action in its relation to the doer, while "John is struck" presents the same in its relation to the sufferer. Thus affirmative predica- tions assert the existence, and of course negative predications the non-existence, of various forms or modes of entity. CHAPTER XVI. KNOWLEDGE. Knowledge 1. Knowledge is absolute and well-founded belief, denned. When we are certain of anything, and that, too, on good grounds, we know it. But the term " knowledge " dif- fers from the term "belief," in that knowledge always covers the conception, or thought-element, on which conviction depends, as well as the conviction itself ; while belief may stand for the mere mental confidence. Knowledge includes both a correct conception of something as existing (or as non-existent), and an absolute and well-grounded assurance accompanying that conception. its objects Language, too, owing to its practical character^ are facts. makes a difference between the objects of knowledge and those of belief. The things which we believe, are statements or propositions ; the things which we know, are facts or realities. The reason for this is that whenever we exercise a weaker belief than knowledge, our attention is necessarily directed to our mental state, with some inquiry as to its claim upon our confi- dence ; but in knowledge, this question having been settled, the interest of the mind fastens at once upon the facts. There- fore it is correct to say, "I know the fact that there is a sun in the heavens, and I believe the proposition that the sun is a solid body." 112 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVI. Knowledge -^ distinction has come down to ns from Aristotle of the between knowing that a thing is and knowing what it ''that "and < o o o of the is ; or, as he expressed it, between the knowledge of "what." t ] ie u t hat " and the knowledge of the " what." Both modes of knowing ma}' be expressed by the very same forms of thought and of language, — that is, by the assertive proposition. For if any one should saj', " I know that the man is a knave," and should emphasize the word " is," he would answer the query, "Is the man a knave?" and would express his knowledge of the " that." But if he should emphasize the word " knave," he would reply to the question, " What is the man? " and would express his knowledge of the " what." Evidently both kinds of knowing assert the existence of something of a given nature ; but the one emphasizes the existence, and the other the nature, of that which is said to exist. If no special emphasis should rest on either of these things, then the two kinds of knowing would combine in one. The distinction which we have now noticed brings and defini- up another, which, however,' is only another form of ecTe 11 knowl "the same distinction. It is that between the existen- tial, or assertive, and the definitional; or determina- tive, knowledge of things. All knowledge is existential and assertive, but one form of knowing is pre-eminently so. For instance, should one say that he knows the guilt or innocence, the foolishness or the trustworthiness, of a man, this would mean that he knows these things to exist ; it would be a knowl- edge of the " that." But let us suppose one to say, " I know the shape of the earth, the form of its planetary orbit, its distance from the sun, and the law of its perpetual motion in space." Does he now mean to assert that he knows of the existence of the shape of the earth and of the other objects ? Not at all. He means to say that he is acquainted with their nature, so as to be able to satisfy our inquiries concerning them. For he can add, " I know the shape of the earth as that of an oblate spheroid, the form of its orbit as elliptical, its distance from the sun as ninety-one mil- lions of miles, and the law of its motion as a resultant of the gravitation and the momentum of matter ; " and this is equiva- lent to saying," I know that the shape of the earth is an oblate spheroid," and so forth. In this style of knowledge the element of thought is much more prominent than the element of convic- tion ; and as it qualifies a person to explain the nature of things, it may be called definitional knowledge. 2. So far we have spoken as if all knowing had actual fact for its object. But no doctrine of belief would be complete which Chap. XVI.] KNOWLEDGE. 11 o should not recognize those modes of credence in which we may be said to believe without believing in the real existence of things, and to know without there being any real objects of knowledge. idealistic For example, we sometimes call our ideas knowl- knowiedge. edge -when the3 T do not represent an}' realities that ever existed, but only correspond with similar ideas previously entertained b}' some one. The student of Homer is said to know the stalwart strength of Ajax, the conquering craft of Ulysses, the wisdom of Nestor, the prowess of Achilles. He knows too how the capture of Helen led to the Trojan War, and how the Greeks entered and obtained possession of the city through the stratagem of the wooden horse. Or if one be not perfectly certain of some Homeric description, he may say that he believes that certain things were so ; as, for example, that the shield of Achilles had on it the twelve signs of the zodiac in sculptured work. Strictty speaking, this knowledge or belief in things imaged or represented is not knowledge or belief at all. The only element of fact in the case is the correspondence of our thought with previously existing thought, — that is, with the con- ceptions of Homer; yet we do not speak of knowing this corre- spondence, but of knowing the fictitious events and objects. Such language is metaphorical. We call our conceptions knowledge, because they correspond to those of Homer in a manner some- what similar to that in which true knowledge, by reason of its very nature, corresponds with our first perception of fact. Hvpotheti- Again, the formation of hypothetical judgments and cai knowi- assertions presents a very important case, in which we speak of knowing and believing facts and objects without this language being true, at least in its strict and pri- mary sense. We often assert that if a certain antecedent exist, a certain consequent must exist also, and sa}' that we know or believe this, even in cases where no antecedent exists, and in which, therefore, no consequent can be inferred to exist. Thus John Smith might say, "If I had $100,000,000, I would be richer than Astor," and we could reply, "That is a fact, Mr. Smith ; that is true ; we all know that." At the same time we perceive that there is no real antecedent, and therefore also no necessity of consequence (or co-existence), and no consequent at all. In truth, it belongs to the nature of eveiy hypothetical assertion to leave out belief as to actucd existence. Reality may characterize some part of the composition of the antecedent or of the consequent, but neither of these, as a whole, is asserted to exist. We only think and say that if the one exist, then the other must exist also. In the case adduced, Smith and Astor 8 114 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVI. might both be living men, and other realities might be thought of; but neither the possession of the $100,000,000, nor the su- periority to Astor in wealth, nor the necessaiy consequence of the latter on the former, is stated as a fact. Therefore hypo- thetical knowledge and belief, as such, deal not with real but only with conceived or supposed objects and their supposed ex- istence. Yet the only true existence, the only true fact, is the actual. At the same time it is clear that a large and important por- tion of our knowledge and belief is hypothetical. The chief part of every system of science and philosoplry, and the great bod} r of the practical wisdom of mankind, together with all thoughts or statements which are ever used as principles in reasoning, are not properly assertions of fact, but of that which must be or become fact, provided certain specified conditions should exist. Moreover, many statements are of this character which at first sight appear to assert general facts, but which, at least as to their use in reasoning, are not assertions of fact at all. Thus, in laying down the principle, " Books are pleasant companions," the existence of books and their pleasant company is referred to ; but we assert onl}~ that if books exist, or wher- ever they may exist, they afford a pleasant fellowship. So, also, 44 Man is mortal " signifies, "Man, whenever or wherever he ma} r exist, is mortal ; " and this would be true even though there were not a single human being to be found. The extensive use and the prominent importance of hypo- thetical belief, and the fact that logic, the science of rational conviction, is chiefly occupied with the laws which regulate the formation of hypothetical belief, account in part for the failure of philosophers to see that the expression of confidence in existence is the essential office and ultimate end of every form of intellectual assent. The relation That hypothetical conviction is a mode of confidence ofiiypotheti- wno iu T secondary, subordinate, and ministerial to be- cal to actual- .«> J' ' r . isticconvic- lief in actual fact, — that is, to belief which asserts cuSed^Hy- actual fact, — and that its very essence is dependent pothetieai a upon its having this character, without which it would ferentiai be- not be belief at all, becomes evident when we analyze het. hypothetical belief, and compare it with that form of belief in actual fact to which it is most closely allied. That radical form of conviction which we have just mentioned as belief in actual fact, and which therefore might be termed actuahstic belief, ma} 7 be distinguished into two kinds, or classes, — the presentational and the inferential. The former of these is experienced in the presentations, or immediate perceptions, of Chap. XVI] KNOWLEDGE. 115 sense and consciousness ; while the latter is the inference of one fact from some other fact with which it is necessarily connected. Now hypothetical conviction is related immediately and closely to that form of actualistic belief which is inferential, and not to that which is presentational. This is so much the case that the same name, ' k inference," which describes the more primar}^ and complete mode of confidence is also applied to the secondary and subordinate mode ; and these two kinds of belief have so much a common nature that they may be distinguished and com- pared as actualistic inference and hypothetical inference. By far the greater part of human knowledge and belief is in- cluded under one or other of these modes of inferential convic- tion. Actualistic inference infers one literal fact from another, or from a combination of others. We see smoke issuing from a chimney, and thence infer that there is fire within the house ; or observing a libraiy in a dwelling, we infer that the owner is fond of books. We find a field rectangular, and with one side ten rods in length and another twenty in length, and thence infer that there are two hundred square rods of surface in the field. Or we learn that one man, James, is younger than John, w r ho again is }'ounger than William, and thence conclude that James also is younger than William. Without airy searching analysis it is plain that such reasonings infer fact from fact, and that the belief or knowledge resulting from them is a conviction as to actual existence. In the foregoing examples the actual existence of fire, of a fondness for books, of a certain quantity of surface as belonging to a certain field, and of the relation of junioritj T on the part of James to William, are inferential]}^ as- serted. Hypothetical belief, on the other hand, asserts only that if one thing is so, then another thing is so. We sa} T only that if there is smoke, there is fire ; or if there were a field an- swering a given description, it would contain a specified quantity of surface. Such being the case, the question arises, How far, or in what respects, does hypothetical inference agree in nature with actualistic inference, and how far does it differ? First, then, it exhibits no difference, so far as the as^o^n- 61106 construction of thought employed in it is concerned, thought" ° f ^^ e se( l uence °f conceptions in every inference is a peculiar one. It is the work of a special development of that power by reason of which one idea is associated with, and suggested by, another. In other words, it is the product of that faculty of suggestive conception which regards not the accidental but the necessaiy relations of things, and which, when acting in connection with judgment and the reasoning power, may be considered as included in those powers as their 116 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVI. thought-factor. For, on thinking of certain things, the mind can, and continually does, think of other things related to them, and of these latter as in some way so related to the former that their existence is necessarily connected with the existence of the former ; and while exercising this power of thought, the mind judges concerning the existence of the things conceived of as related in the way described. The thing known, or assumed, to exist is called the ante- cedent ; the thing inferred to exist is the consequent ; and the necessary co-existence of the latter with the former is called the consequence. So far as these terms indicate order, it is the order of our thought in making an inference, and not an order belonging to the objects of thought as successive in time or as related in any other wa}\ The consequent may precede or be contemporaneous with "the antecedent; and the latter is as fre- quently an effect as it is a cause. The only essential point is that the existence of the consequent is in some way necessarily connected with that of the antecedent. The special relations which thus connect one thing with another are of great variety ; but they all possess the characteristic of involving the necessary co-existence of the consequent with the antecedent. Examples may easily be found to illustrate these statements. We should add that sometimes there are negative antecedents, and some- times negative consequents ; because a case of existence is often, necessarily connected with a case of non-existence, and the re- verse, and because a case of non-existence is often consequent upon another case of non-existence. Again, let us remark, hypothetical inference does as to degrees not essentially or necessarily differ from actualistic, of belief. as £ f^g d e g ree f belief which it produces. Actual- istic inference, though alwa}'s asserting fact, varies in its confi- dence from that of perfect knowledge to that of mere surmise or conjecture. Seeing fresh pools of water, we know that it has rained ; seeing the clouds gathering, we conjecture that it may rain. It is sometimes taught that hypothetical inference, which never asserts fact, but only what would be fact if a certain other thing were fact, does not admit diverse degrees of confidence. This is erroneous. It is true we mostly assume absolute cer- tainty in the grounds of a hypothetical inference, and therefore also assert the conclusion with absolute confidence ; yet, should we suppose something to be probably, not certainly, a fact, and another something probably, not certainly, to be necessarily con- nected with this, such supposition would yield an inference purely hypothetical, and also only probable. Let us suppose that a certain piece of stone is probably amber, and then that amber is Chap. XVI.] KNOWLEDGE. 117 probably a vegetable product : this gives the lrypothetical and probable inference that the stone in question is of vegetable origin. The absoluteness of conviction ascribed to lrypothetical argument belongs to it only accidentally, and is assumed in order that discussions respecting the dependence of conclusions on premises ma} T not be complicated with questions touching de- grees of probabilhVy. But we can easily fashion for ourselves probable lrypothetical inferences. There is, therefore, no difference between actualistic and hypothetical inferences, as to the construction of thought em- ployed, or as to the degree of confidence produced by them. Degrees of probability are more frequently considered in actual- istic reasoning ; and the consequence, or necessit} T of co-exist- ence, is commonly more emphasized in hypothetical inference. In actualistic conclusions the interest of the mind tends to leave the consequence and gather upon the consequent. But these differences are not essential or necessary. The true ^ ^ s > bowever, a most important difference that, in point of dif- actualistic inference, the antecedent is known or be- lieved actually to exist, and that the consequence and consequent are therefore asserted actually to exist ; while no such belief or assertion is found in hypothetical inference. This latter mode of conviction occurs without an} 7 belief in the actual existence of its objects, and simply in connection with a special exercise of thought ; for the antecedent of a lrypothetical infer- ence is only supposed to exist, or thought of as existing, and the consequence and consequent are conceived of as existing without any belief in their actual existence. a peculiar -^ tne same time it is clear that a certain belief or and undefin- confidence is exercised, in hypothetical inference, in able mode of .. .,, ,, ,v x „ ,, confidence, connection with the conception of the consequence ^me^erfse 1 anc ^ consequent as existing. This belief is expressed concerns' by saj'ing that the consequent would exist / and it is existence. ev ident that hypothetical inference is as much distin- guished by the presence of this mode of belief as it is by the absence of the other. Here is the essential or internal difference between actualistic and lrypothetical inferences, considered as modes of intellectual conviction. It lies in the difference of the modes of confidence with which they accept the same thought, — that is, the thought of the consequent and of its necessary co-existence. This dif- ference is an ultimate fact in mental science. It reveals two kinds of belief or confidence, similar in nature, j T et also radically diverse. For hypothetical conviction carmot be explained as a special development of actualistic confidence : it is something 118 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVII. simple, peculiar, and incapable of definition, save through its relations, of which those to aetnalistic belief are the most im- portant. It is distinguished from this latter belief 03' reason of its being founded on merely supposed antecedents ; and it is also provisional for, and preparatory to, aetnalistic inference. For, so soon as belief in the reality of the antecedent takes the place of mere supposition, Irypothetical conviction disappears, and is replaced by actualistic. As all the interest and importance of hypothetical inference lies in its being ministerial to the inference of fact from fact, we see how subordinate it is to actualistic belief. Evidently, also, the whole doctrine of hypothetical conviction confirms the more primary doctrine of actualistic knowledge and belief, and proves that belief alwaj's, in some sense, concerns existence. CHAPTER XVII. EVIDENCE. 1. In the primary sense, that only is knowledge or belief which is conviction concerning what is, or is held to be, actual fact. Whatever other mental states go under these names are so called because the} r partly partake of the nature of true knowledge or belief, or are preparations for its exercise. We have seen how the definition of actualistic belief, as confidence in actual exist- ence, enables us to understand the nature of secondary forms of belief and knowledge, and especially that of hypothetical convic- tion ; this last being closely related to the inferential form of actualistic belief. We have now further to remark that a state- ment of the causes of actualistic belief will prepare us to under- stand the origin of every mode of belief and knowledge. Since even those secondary mental states which are called belief and knowledge, without strictly being so, presuppose be- lief as to actuality, and that knowledge of fact which all belief strives to be, realities may be considered the first conditionof all knowledge and belief whatever ; the}' certainly are the immediate condition of all true knowledge. But the existence of objects, though a condition of cause^be* belief, exerts no efficiency in the production of it; lief is wholly nor, indeed, can belief be accounted for 03- any po- tency outside of the mind. The producing cause lies Chap. XVII.] EVIDENCE. 119 wholly within ; and it may be regarded as partly remote and partly immediate. The remote cause lies in the constitution of the soul as having innate and immanent powers of perception and of judgment ; the immediate is the action of these powers. The special nature of a power is shown only in its action or operation ; and that of the action only in the phenomena — that is, the changes and states — immediately produced by it. For this reason, as we have already considered belief as a phe- nomenon, we have therein considered it also as a specific power and as a specific operation. We need not discuss further the efficiency producing belief. Evidence is ^ ut a condition devoid of efficiency is sometimes the ooixii- called a cause, when, not being involved in our con- of'eolnic- 86 ception of a phenomenon, it is regarded as the chief tion. or on iy condition needful for its occurrence. Man}' other conditions may be as necessary to the event as that thus signalized ; but they are regarded as already existing or as already secured, and so as no longer needful to be supplied. Thus the insufficiency of water might be assigned as the cause of the explosion of a boiler, though such insufficiency in itself has no power, and only leaves the way open for the excessive generation of steam. In such cases the efficient cause is sup- posed already to exist, and to be in readiness to act ; the idea of it ma}' be involved in the very conception of the phenomenon ; and the thought of the mind is principally directed to that condi- tion, on the supply of which the effect takes place. In this way we come to regard a mere condition as if it exercised the power producing some result, when really it is only the occasion, or, at the most, the excitant, of the efficiency. Now such generally seems to be our use of language when we speak of the cause or causes of conviction, and when we define " evidence '" as that which naturally produces conviction. Blackstone says: fct Evi- dence signifies that which demonstrates, makes clear, or ascer- tains the truth of the very fact, or point at issue, either on the one side or on the other." Strictly speaking, evidence has no efficiency, and is only the special condition, on the occurrence of which conviction takes place. This being understood, evidence may be defined as that which is immediately productive of belief. Probable The words of Blackstone might be taken to mean evidence. that nothing is evidence which does not remove all doubt as to the point at issue. But this is not intended. Evi- dence includes all that may be the ground of rational conviction as to alleged fact, whether the conviction produced be absolute and certain or merely probable. Whatever exists, exists cer- tainly, and may be the object of absolute knowledge, and hence 120 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVII. also may be perceived through that certain or perfect evidence which is the cause of such knowledge. But often, not from any difference in the degree of the reality of things, since whatever is real is perfectly real, but from something lacking in our means of knowing, we have to be content with evidence which is fit only to produce probable conviction. Frequent!}', too, we have to act upon such evidence. Now that which is partial or imperfect can be understood only b\ T reference to the complete or perfect ; therefore let us first stud}' the nature of certain evidence, and after that we may consider probable evidence. m , . The word " fact" is commonlv used to signify the The word /■■•.., ., J „ ,. &J ., "fact" de- actual existence, or non-existence, of anything consid- fined. ere( j ag asS ertible of that thing. Factum originally meant " that which has been done or made ; " but as an accom- plished result is a real thing, which it is not so long as it is merely purposed or contemplated, and since the question, Has the thing been effected? chiefly asks, Does it, as a result, ex- ist? the term " fact" came to be applied to that which has an actual existence, whether it be the product of some agency or not. .We say it is a fact that there is a moon, and another iact that there are mountains in the moon ; and in this we set forth simply the existence of the moon and of the mountains in it. The essential point in every fact — that which makes it a fact — is the existence, and not the nature, of the object, although of course no object could exist without having a definite nature. Whenever anything exists, its existence is a fact, no matter what the thing may be. In like manner, when anything does not exist, we extend the term, and call the non-existence of it a fact. In short, this word signifies that which corresponds to, and is the object of, any proposition which is literally true. It may therefore be employed to designate the object of literal knowledge, — that is, of certain and well-founded belief as to the actual existence of things. „,, . , Now this knowledge — this absolute and correct The evidence . ° of fact is of actuahstic belief, the knowledge of literal fact — seems Perception to arise from the connection of the soul, as a think- or cognition \ n g substance, with the fact ; and this connection is either immediate or mediate. In the former case the fact is either included in the life of the soul, or, if we ma}'' so speak, exists in contact with that life. In the latter case the fact is perceived, not directly, but through the knowledge of another fact with which it is necessarily co-existent. These two modes of knowing may be distinguished as presentational and as inferential perception. Both are forms of judgment, when this latter term is used in the widest sense, covering every Chap. XVII.] EVIDENCE. 121 mode of forming convictions, and not in its stricter meaning, which includes only probable inference. Perception, in the broad signification now employed, is precisely the equivalent of cog- nition ; so that, in actualistic belief, there are two kinds of judg- ments, — first, perception or cognition, by which we perceive or cognize fact, either in itself or through other fact, and thus have knowledge ; and secondly, judgment proper, which is the prob- able inference of fact from fact, and which originates belief proper, or probable conviction. With the latter w r e have nothing to do at present. The evidence, in any case of presentational percep- tiveand tion, is simply the fact itself, considered, of course, illative as immediately subject to the cognizance of the think- GVlllGllCG ing being. Henoe we say that the fact is self-evident. If one has a thought or a pain or a desire, what evidence has he of its existence save that it exists within the sphere of his immediate consciousness and notice ? The fact as thus related is its own evidence ; nor can we conceive of any other cause of immediate knowledge than the fact itself as immediately related to our power of cognition. On the other hand, the evidence in inferential perception is not the fact perceived, but some other fact or facts with which it is necessarily co-existent. Seeing a bird flying over a grove suddenly collapse and fall immediately upon the report of a fowling-piece, we perceive that some unseen sportsman is suc- cessfully practising his art. Comparing these two kinds of evidence together, we may name the first presentative, because, in a sense, it presents the existing object immediately to our perception. " Intuitional " might be a better term, had not " intuition" of late come to mean, not the immediate perception of fact, but only the im- mediate apprehension of necessitudinal, or ontological, relations and sequences. And the second kind of evidence ma}' be named illative, because in a sense it brings the existence of an object not immediately cognizable within the compass of our perception. Presenta- This ra di ca l distinction, which refers to the use or tiveevi- non-use of means in cognition, is allied to, and co- nri'^natire, incident with, two other distinctions. First, with ref- iiiative evi- erence to the thought, or the conceptions, of the mind, dunce is ap- ' . , & ' , ,/ , . . . . ' piicative, of presentative evidence may be called originative, be- thought. cause our ideas of the things perceived originate in the very perception of them ; while illative evidence ma}' be termed a implicative, since it merely enables us, according to cer- tain rational methods, to apply conceptions or propositions which 122 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVII. have been recalled to, or constructed b} T , the mind, out of its ac- quired stores, to the explanation of any given case. If one has toothache, the idea of that pain is given in the very perception of it, whether it be a first or a subsequent perception ; the evidence in this case is presentative of the toothache, and origi- native of the thought of the toothache. But when, without ex- amination of the tooth, we infer that there is a decayed nerve from which the aching proceeds, the conceptions of this infer- ence must have been derived from a previous examination of aching teeth. In this case the evidence is applicative of the conception of a decayed nerve, and is illative of the fact of such a nerve. So when w r e see the bird falling, and hear the report of the fowling-piece, we have presentative and originative evi- dence of the fall of the bird and the noise of the gun ; but, sup- posing the sportsman to be out of sight, we have only illative and applicative evidence of his presence and skill. Presentative Secondly, with reference to the ground of our belief, evidence is presentative evidence may be called primordial, be- BiaSve evi- cause it is the immediate fountain of our primary per- denceisiogi- ceptions, and the ultimate source from which every mode of" actualistic conviction draws its life or validity ; while conviction. iHative evidence may be termed logical, because it is employed m reasoning, and is the means of deducing secondary from primary convictions. Possibly the truth thus indicated might be better stated should we first say that certain of our cognitions are primordial, not being dependent on any others, but being themselves the source whence all others are derived, while the rest of our convictions are logical or derivative ; and should we then sa}' that the evidence of our primordial cog- nitions may be distinguished as primordial, while that of our logical beliefs may be distinguished as logical. Primordial evidence is merely the fact or thing known consid- ered as in immediate connection with the thinking substance ; it is presentative evidence, viewed, hoicever, not simply in itself, but also as the foundation for illative evidence. Logical evi- dence consists either in primordial convictions so used as to derive other convictions from them, or in derivative convic- tions so used as to become in their turn the source of new convictions : it is illative evidence, viewed not simply as to its effect but also as to the nature and ground of its operation. To explain the modes and laws of derivative conviction is the chief office of logic. To illustrate logical evidence let us suppose that one sees money put into a pocket-book, and then sees the pocket-book put into a desk. He now has presentative and primordial evi- Chap. XVII] EVIDENCE. 123 dence as to the relation of the money to the pocket-book and as to the relation of the pocket-book to the desk, while his knowl- edge of these facts is the illative and logical evidence that the money is in the desk. Again, to enable one to conclude that a certain cupful of black powder is explosive, let one have ob- served several times that a certain pulverized composition of sulphur, saltpetre, and charcoal, called gunpowder, will explode ; and let him know, from examination, that this powder in hand is gunpowder : he has now presentative evidence of these facts, or at least a remembrance in which the result of that evidence is reproduced ; for he has observed the facts themselves. And he has logical evidence that the powder in the cup, which has not yet exploded, will explode if ignited, or is explosive, because the facts alread}' observed, considered in their relation to this derivative conviction, are logical evidence. In the above instances the knowledge employed as logical evidence is it- self supported by primordial evidence ; but am* knowledge, whether obtained b}' observation or by inference, ma}' serve as logical evidence. The doctrine that presentative evidence, or presen- between 10n tational cognition, is primordial to all our convictions, presentative anc [ originative of all the conceptions used in them, £111 ll llitltlVG evidence cannot be fully vindicated without discussing thor- stated. ely ou »hl3 T t ne various modes of conviction. It can, how- ever, be defined without further discussion. First, in sa}ing that immediate perception is the origin of all thought, we mean only that presentation furnishes all the materials or ele- ments of conception. We admit that new constructions of thought not only take place in connection with inference, but are a condition of it. When we say, " The powder in that cup is explosive," we unite the idea of explosiveness to that of this cupful of powder ; and this combination is new, though we had the elements of it before making it. So also there is a new syn- thesis of thought when we conclude that the money is in the desk, that the bird which has fallen has been shot b}- the unseen sportsman, and that the aching proceeds from decay in this hollow molar. The question, however, ma} T be asked, Is it absolutely true that the mind originates no elements of conception in inference? For example, might not the thought of the necessary connection of the fact inferred with the facts already known be immediately produced b} T the intellect on the occasion of its first inferences? To this we reply that were there any necessit}' for it, we might suppose the mind to have the power to conceive not only of the necessary connections, but also of the radical natures of the 124 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIIL things inferred, without having directly perceived such natures in such connections previously. There are certain fundamental elements of conception, which correspond with certain funda- mental elements of entit}-, and which enter into all thinking ; and we might attribute to the mind a power of generating these elementary conceptions at the time of its first inferences. But we can discover no need for such a theoty so far; at least, as regards the human spirit. It seems sufficient to say that these conceptions are primarity produced as parts of our presentational cognitions. The doctrine appears sustainable, that ever} T ele- ment of inferential thought has been originally experienced in immediate perception. Secondly, in sa3*ing that our presentational perceptions are primordial as related to our illative actualistic convictions, we do not mean to say that inference has not a force of its own, in addition to that of immediate cognition, or to that which memory may reproduce from such cognition. On the contrary, it has such a force ; and this must be recognized as an ultimate fact in mental science. When a chain hangs from a hook fastened in a beam, there is strength in each link of the chain as well as in the hook. When a column rests on a pedestal and upholds a roof, there is supporting power in the column as well as in the pedestal. So actualistic inferential conviction, though founded on presentational, has a confidence that is peculiarly its own. That such is the case is evident from the fact that illation, or inference, produces new convictions. We form beliefs about things in the future or in the distance, and about whose exist- ence we never heard before. Such beliefs cannot be explained as merely the reproduction of old perceptions. CHAPTER XVIIL PRESENTATIONALISM. 1. The operation of presentative evidence is very Diversity of -, , r / , L mu -w i. • *.• views. simple. I here is no process. I he object as existing Causes of i n or \ n immediate relation to, the experience of the error * soul, is immediately perceived — that is, absolutely and correctry judged to exist — either as a part of the experience or as related to it. That which is simple does not call for explana- tion ; but the question arises, What facts, or classes of fact, are Chap. XVIII.] PRESENTATI0NAL1SM. 125 immediately perceived by us? and philosophers have not been agreed in rendering an answer. The}' concur only in teaching that the soul has an views C stat- immediate knowledge of its own operations and ex- ed -Ted ad " P er i ences i — that the consciousness of psychical life Psychical is presentational ; be}-ond this there is no general atfveiy Sent " accord. The following views, however, respecting known. points of discussion, commend themselves, sou?, or%o, In the first place, we have presentative evidence as and its £ the existence of the powers of the soul and also as powers to the existence of the ego, or thinking substance, to which these powers belong. In other words, a man is conscious of his own existence and of that of his powers in the same manner that he is conscious of his spiritual activities. The truth is that action, potenc}', and agent are all perceived at once, and in the one exercise of consciousness. The doctrine that our first knowledge of the faculties of the soul, and of the soul itself, is a kind of inference from the operation of the faculties, only this last being immediately perceived, has originated from the fact that the ego and its powers are perceived on the occasion of the exercise of the powers, and not at any other time ; but this shows merely that psychical change is always the exci- tant, not that it is ever the medium, of the perceptions of consciousness. We might account for the cognition of the ego by giving the mind a wonderful ability to conceive something such as it has never perceived, and to conceive also a necessar}* connection of this something with another something which is perceived, and in addition to this, the power to infer the existence of the former something from that of the latter, — that is, to infer the agent or his power from the action with which they both necessarily co- exist. This doctrine is not unintelligible ; nor can It be con- demned as far from the truth. But the more satisfactory view is that the mind forms its conceptions of substance and power in the very act of perceiving these things and from immediate con- tact with them in their operation, and not that it first imagines them as things not directly known or seen, and after that judges them to exist. As will become plainer in the course of this dis- cussion, it is more natural to hold that, originally and ordi- narily, we perceive that toe have souls and powers operating, than to say that we infer that we must have souls and powers because they operate. We do not den}' that such an inference ma}' be made, for we might infer wherever there is a necessaiy connection ; but in our view, such is not our original nor even our ordinary mode of cognition. 12G MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIII. We have Again, we have 'preservative evidence of the exist- presenta- ence f matter and its qualities, — that is, of the mat- ti.V6 KllOWI- edge of our ter of our own bodies, and of such other matter as of such mat- ma 3' come m ^o immediate contact with our nervous ter as im- system ; for it is now agreed that the rest of the uni- affectYthe verse is known only inferentially. Sir William Ham- nerves, ilton has discussed this point at length.. He divides those philosophers who accept the realhyy of matter into two classes, — the one the t; Natural Realists," who hold to an im- mediate perception, " founding their doctrine on the natural consciousness or common sense of men ; " and the other the " Hypothetical Realists," who hold to an inferential perception, in which the mind, on the occasion of its sensation, forms con- ceptions of matter and its qualities, and then believes in the ex- istence of these things because of their necessary connection with sensation as its cause. As the word " natural " is not precise, and as " lrypothetical " might suggest the idea of a mere liypothesis held without evi- dence, — an imputation rejected b}' the class of thinkers named, — it; might be better to say presentational and inferential realists, than natural and hypothetical. It should be noticed that the term u realism" here is used in a sense different from that which belongs to it historically, and which concerns, not perceptions, but abstract and general notions. Comparing these two forms of doctrine — presentational and inferential realism — with each other, we find that they do not materially differ as to the producing cause of our conceptions of matter and its powers. Both teach that our idea of matter as an external and extended something endowed with certain at- tributes arises wholly from the mind's own power of thought, and is not at all impressed upon us from without. Neither ex- plains the m3 T stery, the simple ultimate fact, of the origination of thought. Again, each doctrine in its own toay provides for a belief in the external toorld. The inferential realist says that on the occasion of a sensation, by a necessity of our mental constitution, we conceive of a certain external cause, acting under certain conditions, as necessarily connected with the sensation, and that, the sensation being perceived to exist, we necessarily infer the existence of the cause. To him the sensation is the proof or sign of the cause, and he rejects other evidence as needless. Such a doctrine is not absurd ; for illative evidence is possible whenever one thing can be conceived of as necessarily connected with another. But the presentationalist ma} x reply that it is more philosophical to regard our first perception of the correia- Chap. XVIII.] PRESEXTATIONALISM. 127 tives, matter and sensation, as presentative and originative, and to hold that the inference of body and its attributes from sensa- tions, if it takes place at all, only takes place afterwards, and obtains its conceptions from the analysis of presentational knowledge. Further, ice cannot see that the doctrines in question differ as to that absolute certainty which each provides as belonging to our perception of matter and its powers. When we are cer- tain of the connection of some consequent with some antecedent, then we may be as sure that the consequent exists as that the antecedent does ; this is the confidence of the inferential realist. On the other hand, nothing can be more absolute than the cer- tainty of immediate cognition, which is claimed by the presenta- tional realist. Finally, we can scarcely say that one of these theories is more 14 natural™ than the other, meaning 03* this that it is more agree- able to the ordinary consciousness of men. Although our per- ception of the parts of the bodily organism, and of such material agents as may directly affect them, seems immediate, so also does our perception of distant objects, which is confessedly in- ferential, — for example, the sight of a tree or of a house. In- deed, not all one's perceptions respecting his own person are presentative. " Natural," therefore, no less than " hypotheti- cal," is a term unduly suggestive. Points of The true point of difference between presentational difference. anc ] inferential realism is that the former makes the entationai sensation, the sensation itself, the occasion on which realism. j.]^ m [ n( j perceives, at once and together, the sensa- tion and all the causal and conditional entities immediately con- nected with it, such as matter and its powers, and their action, and the time and place of their operation, — the conception of these things being of course included in the perception of them ; whereas inferential realism makes the sensation the occasion only of the perception of the sensation, and then makes this per- ception the occasion of the conception and of the inference of the other entities. Of these two theories the former, presentational realism, is the preferable. In the first place, it is the simpler. It concedes but one mode of originative perception, the presentative, and so also makes all illative perception purely applicative ; that is, it agrees with the doctrine that presentational perception alone originates the conceptions of the objects perceived, and that illative perception makes use of conceptions previously ac- quired and possessed, and in some w T a}^ suggested or re- called. But inferential realism makes two modes of originative 128 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIII. perception, the one presentative and the other illative, and so also two modes of illative perception, the originative and the applicative. In the next place, the actual presence of the soul at and throughout the place of a bodily feeling, which presence is now generallj' conceded as an immediate cognition, — that is, the ob- ject of an immediate cognition, — furnishes the only condition of the immediate perception of matter and its operation which seems necessary to be supplied. The sensation, though within the spirit, ma\ T be regarded as occupying the place where the soul and the animal organism as affecting it meet each other, — the place of contact between the ego and the non-ego in any sensation. If this be so, ma} 7 not the spirit, in the place of the feeling, immediately, and in the same one act, perceive both the sensation and itself, the subject of the sensation, and the ex- tended organism, the cause of it? Moreover, as to the place, the time, and the various intimate relations of the things perceived, it is as easy to regard them as immediately known, — that is, at once conceived of and believed in. — as to suppose them first con- ceived of in connection with the thought of the sensation and its causes, and thereupon inferred to exist because of the existence of these correlatives. Finally, the doctrine of inferential realism is somewhat con- nected with erroneous views, the rejection of which leaves it without any strong support. The idea that spirit is so related co space that it cannot pervade the body has just been noticed as an exploded theory. Again, it is no longer taught that the human intellect is capable of only one thought at once ; on the contrary, the mind is allowed considerable compass of concep- tion. We may regard the perception of matter and its powers, and of the conditions of its existence and operation, not to fol- low, but to accompan} T , that of sensation. Moreover, the view that the different parts of a complex phenomenon, because sepa- rately conceioable^ have cm existence separable from each other, and can be perceived separately, is merely a philosophical fiction. The fact is, in original perception we perceive, not the feeling merely, but the ego as having it ; not sensible affections and changes merely, but matter as having them; never time and space alone, but things and events as existing in them and con- ditioned upon them. Our subsequent and independent concep- tions of these things are the abstractions of mental analysis. Such being the case, we may reasonably hold that things which exist together, and all of which equally are immediately related to the mind, may all be perceived immediately and in the same mental movement. Chap. X VIII ) PRESENTA TJONALISM. 1 29 Certain re- ?• Ordinary language speaks only of material lationa an.i things, with their qualities and changes, as the objects 7jonM of e of sense-perception ; that is, only such things are said the non-ego to be seen, heard, touched, tasted, and so on. In are present- ,., 7 7 . . . ., atheiy per- like manner, only our souls and their powers and ceived. operations are mentioned as the objects of internal perception, or consciousness. The reason is that language is founded on an analysis, and is not designed or fitted to express at once all of a complex of phenomena, but only that portion which ma}- be important to notice. Very often we desire to know whether or not some object has been perceived, and we have no need or no desire to ask, Where or when has it been perceived? Indeed, the perception of the object and the per- ception of its time and place, though closely connected facts, are distinct in their nature and in their logical relations. For these reasons language separates the perception of the thing from that of its time and place and relations. It is not strictly literal therefore to say, as some do, that place and distance, size and number, are perceived by the senses, or to say, with others, that we are conscious of time and succession, of sameness and differ- ence, and so forth. On this account, and because such cognitions as those of time and place, of quantity and number, and of collocation, succession, and other relations, accompany sense-perception and consciousness alike, and pertain to the objects of both,, we have proposed a third class of presentational cognitions ; and this we have named concomitant perception, because it accompanies the perception of the ego and of the non-ego. For these and their powers and operations are never cognized per se, or alone, but alwaj'S as diverse from each other, as in- fluencing each other, as having number and quantity, and as existing and operating in time and space, and as otherwise related. Granting the presentational perception of the ego and of the non-ego, and of their potencies and actings, it is difficult to den} T that of the space and time in which they exist, and that of their immediate relations to these things and to each other. There seems to be no difference between our cognition of the concomitant and our cognition of the principal objects, save only that we regard the latter with a more direct and a more inter- ested attention. We have now exhaustively described the objects of presenta- tional perception. They include not merely psychical changes, and such material changes as take place in immediate connec- tion with them, but cdso spirit and matter, with their pow- ers and operations, together with time, space, quantity, and 9 130 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIII. relation as the objects of concomitant perception. Thus there is no kind of entitj' which is not immediately perceived. This whole doctrine is more comprehensive than that of pres- entational realism, which relates onl}^ to the perception of matter, and therefore it may be designated 03- the unrestricted term tC presentationalism ; " while the opposite theory, which is more comprehensive than inferential realism, may be styled " inferentialism." 3. A pernicious heres}*, which is opposed to both Kantianism, ^ese doctrines, since to a great extent it denies the re- ality of our perceptions, ma} T here be noticed. It has been named, from its author, Kantianism. Immanuel Kant was born in 1724 in Konigsberg, in Eastern Prussia, and died there in 1804, eight years after Reid died in Glasgow. His father, a saddler, was of Scotch descent. During forty years Kant was an emi- nent teacher in the university of his native city, and for a much longer period his ideas controlled the speculation of Germany. Dissatisfied with the teaching of Descartes and Leibnitz, who placed the ultimate ground of human belief in a certain inward clearness of conception, Kant devised a new theory. According to him perception results from two factors, sensibility and reason. By the first of these the soul comes into contact with things ; b} r the second its knowledge is given form, without which it would not be knowledge, but mere sensibility. This knowledge, this result of the combination of sensibility with reason, he calls experience. The forms with which reason clothes our diverse feelings not only originate within, but, so far as we can judge, represent nothing without ; for they neither resemble external things nor have they any direct connection with them, but only with our sensibility. Hence space, time, substance, quantity, power, ac- tion, and even relation are mere ideas of the mind. In his " Transcendental ^Esthetic " Kant sums up his philosoplry of perception as follows: " The things which we perceive are not what we take them to be, nor their relations of such intrinsic nature as they appear to us to be. If we make abstraction of ourselves as knowing subjects, or even only of the subjective constitution of our senses generally, all the qualities, all the relations, of objects in space and time, 3'es, and even space and •time themselves, disappear. As phenomena they cannot exist really per se, but only in us. What may be the character of things in themselves and wholly separated from our receptive sensibility, remains wholly unknown to us." Thus Kant allows that there are " things in themselves," but declares that our knowledge of what they are is wholly illusor}-. Chap. XVIII] PRESENTATIONALISM. 131 In regard to this famous theory we remark, first, that ;tent it is inconsistent in maintaining the existence of kt the thing in itself," that is, of a reality external to us and existing apart from our experience. Since this thing is different from the modification of our sensibility, our conception of it, however indefinite, is no part of our experience, but must, like time, space, and relation, be a gift of " reason." If, then, we have no ground to believe in the existence of such entities as space, time, and relation, of which reason gives us the ideas, what ground have we to believe in an}* " thing in itself." beyond and distinguishable from our experience? Fichte, the founder of German idealism, seeing this, threw away " the thing in itself," and maintained only the existence of the ego and its activity. Indeed, Kantianism logically led to the abolition also of the ego as a substantial entity, and to that extreme idealism of Hegel which left nothing external or internal save the modification and development of thought. ., , Again, we remark that the doctrine of Kant is One-sided founded on a partial apprehension of truth and a partial acceptance of evidence. It asserts trufy that thought originates within, and belongs wholly to the mind, and that all real knowledge begins in connection with experience. But it is wofulfy mistaken in not finding that our necessitudinal, or onto- logical, conceptions exist first of all as elements of the presenta- tional perception of fact, and in disalloioing the validity of our primordial knowledge ; these two mistakes being closely related. Presentative knowledge is revealed by consciousness, so that we have the same evidence for the fact of this knowledge that we have for the fact of thought. We know that we know in the same wa}* that we know that we think. Why accept the latter fact and reject the former? Certainly, unless there be good reason to invalidate the absolute natural confidence of our cog- nitions, it must stand. Na3 T , it will stand, whatever reasons may be brought against it, and however cogent they ma}* appear. No argument can convince a man that he has no bod} T , and that he does not exist in space and during time. The immediate knowledge of present facts cannot be reasoned away ; one might as easily reason awa}~ the facts themselves. Such being the case, idealists and nihilists have cause to inquire whether there be not something sophistical or misleading in their methods of thought. But, in truth, and as we might expect, critical examination shows that there is not one sound reason for doubting our primordial perceptions, but, on the contrar}*, many confirma- tions of them. Especially it is true that the}* are all absolutely consistent with each other and with all derivative convictions ; 132 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XVIII. that they exist alike in all men, and never deceive any ; and that inconsistenc}' and falsehood are to be found onry in the region of mistaken inference. The offspring Once more we observe that Kantianism finds its of error. chief support in various errors, more or less plausible, from which philosophy has freed herself in recent times. The Cartesians taught that mind is unextended, and 4 can have no direct connection with matter. According to this doctrine, the presentational perception of matter and of its sense-affecting powers is inconceivable. Again, it was generally assumed that any adequate idea of a thing must be an image or impression derived from the object in some way and similar to it. This doctrine restricted perception to a sense or knowledge of what can affect our sensibility, excluding such things as space, time, and relation. In the next place, philosophers, from Plato down, gave the intellect a power of immediately forming general notions to be afterwards combined with each other and applied to individual objects / and this doctrine underlies Kant's con- ception of t; the pure reason." It is clear that the products of such a power, if there were one, might be more easily doubted than those of presentational perception, in which first, as it is now taught, the ideas of reason are embodied, and from which the} T are subsequently generalized. Further, the assumption that sensation or feeling gives or constitutes the knoicledge of itself while other objects do not furnish ideas of themselves, is at the base of Kantianism. So far as we can see, the thought of the sensation, equally with that of the other things perceived, though originating on the occasion of the sensation, springs directly and solely from the soul's own power of cognition. It was also an error to hold, as Kant did, that because " con- tingent" or experiential, elements of entity are perceived only presentatively , or as connected with presentatioyis, we may not also perceive the necessitudinal, or ontological, in the same way. The natural inference from this is that since presentation and inference from presentation are our only modes of perceiving fact, the ontological elements of entity are not really per- ceived at all. This inference is suggested by Kant's opposition of "empirical, or a posteriori, cognitions," as conditioned on experience, with "pure, or a priori, cognitions, which take place independently of all experience whatever." The fact is, as will be seen more fully hereafter, the experiential and the necessi- tudinal are cognized in the same way, on the same evidence, at the same time, and as existing in inseparable combination. Only afterwards, and by means of abstraction, the ontological is thought of apart from the various modes of the contingent. Chap. XIX.] ILLATIVE EVIDENCE. 133 Finally, it is not true, as the old doctrine of "ideas" im- plied, that our primordial cognitions deal with representations or appearances of things, and not with the things themselves. While Kant allowed that things really exist, he denied that ' ' the thing in itself" — that is, the external thing, as having indepen- dent existence — is, or can be, the object of immediate cognition. Hence the doubt arose, Is it the object of cognition at all? Presentationalism, on the other hand, analyzing the idea of immediate knowledge given us by consciousness, and testing the truth of it in every possible wa\ T , affirms that so far as we truly know, we know the thing in itself, — that the perceptive operation of the mind correctly apprehends the thing about which it is conversant, the thing itself, as it is, and not some delusion. CHAPTER XIX. ILLATIVE EVIDENCE. illative more 1- Evidence is more frequently mentioned in con- grpminent nection with inferential than in connection with pres- tativeevi- entational knowledge. Sometimes, when recognizing dence. a j^ ag se lf-eviclent, we even say it does not need an}' evidence, and mean b} r this that it has no need of illative evidence. Thus one kind of evidence has a pre-eminence over the other. The reason is that the questioning of the mind seldom rests on the act of immediate perception, as this al- ways produces certainty, but is often necessarily concerned with inference. Both kinds of evidence, however, should be the objects of philosophic study. in nioso Again, in cases of inferential conviction, we often phy evidence characterize that only as evidence which is the final 3? trmhs Ude and determining condition of belief, and which, there- necessary in fore, alone needs to be submitted in order to produce conclusion, conviction. Thus we might say, "The only evidence of fire in that house is that smoke issues from the chimney." In short, the word "evidence," having a practical reference, commonly stands only for those facts or truths neces- sary to be employed for conviction. But if, in addition to the foregoing, we felt called upon to submit the general truth that smoke necessarily and in all cases comes from fire, this also would be styled " evidence." In order to show a jmy ignorant 134 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIX. of the nature of strychnine, that a man was poisoned b} T this drug, the evidence would be needed, first, that strychnine is a poison, and, secondly, that this poison was in some way par- taken of by the man. In the searching and comprehensive inquiries of philosophy, we ask for all the conditions of convic- tion ; therefore we must now include under evidence all the facts or truths necessary to some conclusion, whether in practical life the} x all need to be mentioned or not. , „ When we speak of the ground or grounds of a '" (4 roil THIS OI belief" de- belief, — the plural word indicating either more proofs ''Proof" than one or the existence of parts in one proof, — we mean very nearly the same as the evidence productive of the belief. The difference between the terms seems to be that evidence is confined to the conditions of actualistic belief. We speak of the grounds, but not of the evidence, of a purely hypothetical conviction. The suppositions which constitute the ground of a hypothetical belief, though merely thoughts without objects, exactly correspond to the facts and truths which are the. evidence of a similar actualistic conviction.- The proof of a statement or proposition is sinipry the evidence which makes it apparent, or the ground for our belief in it, considered as in- tentionally used to produce correct conviction. The term ^ e nave already seen that in cases of presentation "evidence" the thing itself, as in immediate relation to the per- is used both .. . „ .. , , . ,- objectively ceptive power, is generally mentioned as being self- tiveiy UbJec " ey ident, — in other words, as its own evidence. But it is to be noted that we also speak of the evidence of consciousness, of sense, of sight, of hearing, and so on ; and this way of speaking brings to view the real productive cause of conviction. So, likewise, in inference, we sometimes mean by evidence the facts which, as vievied by the mind, sustain some conviction, and at other times the propositional truths which set forth the facts. In short, the term is applied both objec- tively and subjectively. Each sense implies the other ; neither can be condemned as incorrect. In actualistic inference the facts themselves, as distinguished from the propositions setting them forth, may literally be spoken of as evidence. This, of course, is not the case in that inference which is based merely on supposition. In all cases, however, the mind in some sense thinks of things, and infers by reference to the nature of things ; nor can the laws of inference be formulated save in terms ex- pressive of objectual relations. In short, propositional evidence is such only because of its actual or supposable correspondence with fact. Therefore, if we stud}* the facts as evidence we shall understand the propositions also. This, too, will reveal Chap. XIX.] ILLATIVE EVIDENCE. 135 the nature of the grounds of hypothetical conviction, as these are simply supposed facts or realities. inference ^ ne relation of presentative to illative evidence, and originates that also of presentational to inferential perception, lions of has been given in characterizing the one as origi- SSSttend- native of thought, and as the primordial source of antconvic- conviction, while the other is merely applicative and deductive. In saying that there is no origination of thought in inference, we mean that no new element is added to the material of thought, and not that no new construction of thought takes place. Let one weigh a bagful of feathers in a scale, and after taking them away let him balance the scale again by supplying lead instead of feathers. We now know the double fact that the feathers are of a given weight and that the lead also is of that weight. From this we conclude that the feathers and lead are equal to each other in weight. In general terms we say, "A and B are each equal to C, and therefore they are equal to one another." Now this equality of A to B, of the feather weight to the lead weight, may have been thought of for the first time in connection with the infer- ence, and may differ from any construction of thought ever pres- entationally received. Nevertheless, as we believe, the various component ideas — of feathers, lead, weight, equalitj^, co-exist- ence, necessity — which constitute the new construction of thought, have been previously entertained and were originally presentations. Without this power of forming new construc- tions, neither imagination nor reasoning would be possible ; and all mental action, after our first perceptions, would be restricted to memory and its modifications. Moreover, in calling presentational perception primordial, we mean, not that it furnishes the force of the conviction attending inference, but 01113* that it is the necessary antecedent and con- dition of inferential conviction. Presentational cognition is the foundation and support of all knowledge, and in this way the beginning of all certaint}'. Yet the conviction consequent upon illative evidence, like the new construction of thought which it accompanies, is something new, and is not derived from the force of the presentative evidence. As a bridge resting on piers has a strength of its own not derived from the piers, so an inferen- tial conviction, while resting on facts, has a strength of its own not derived from the facts. This, indeed, is the sole strength belonging to hypothetical knowledge, which may therefore be compared to a movable bridge, not in actual service, but read}? - to rest on piers so soon as they may be found in the. proper place. But as the strength of the bridge when resting on its 136 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIX. piers is the medium through which the strength of these sup- ports is felt, and completely unites its action with theirs, so the force of logical evidence completely unites itself with that of primordial evidence whenever an inference is fairly founded on perceived realities. j 2. We are now prepared for a question concerning law of ail which there has been much discussion and much di- mfereiice. yersity of view, namely, What is the radical mode or law of thought belonging to all inference? More specifically, What is the generic form of that construction of thought in which the mind makes use of illative evidence? If the nature of belief and judgment, and the distinction between presenta- tional and inferential perception be as already described, then the form of inference always is, ''This exists; therefore that exists." We think of one entit}' or complex of entities, called the reason, or antecedent, as existing ; and of another entit} T or complex of entities, called the consequent, as existing also ; and of a necessity attached to the existence of the antecedent for the existence of the consequent. This necessity is expressed by " therefore," and other words of similar meaning. Such is the con- struction of thought in all inference ; the confidence of belief or knowledge, which takes place in connection with this form of thought, follows upon the belief exercised in connection with the conception of the antecedent, and attaches itself to the thought of the necessity of co-existence and to that of the consequent as necessarily co-existent. The name of ^ n ^ s * aw ' or fi xe d mode, of mental action, which the law. in the mind obe}'S in constructing the foregoing form of cipie of ac- l ~ thought and accompanying it with new belief, has tionandnot been styled the principle, or law, of reason and conse- of knowi- quent. Of these expressions, the term " law " is less edge. ambiguous than " principle," to indicate the essential and universal mode of all inference. The term "principle" might signify a general truth known to the mind and applied b} r it in its reasonings ; but we now speak of a form of mental action in which or according to which (not from which) the mind reasons. The law of reason and consequent is the universal principle of inference somewhat in the same way that the law of gravitation may be said to be a principle, or radi- cal mode, of the action of matter. It is the fundamental law according to which the power of reasoning acts. Now eveiy principle, or law, of action may yield a principle of knowledge. That which in itself is merely a law of action, when apprehended by the mind, becomes — that is, furnishes — a general truth from which we may reason variously as to the Chap. XIX.] ILLATIVE EVIDENCE. 137 operation of the law. From the law of gravitation as mentally apprehended, we can reason that an}' particular piece of matter will gravitate ; so from the law of reason and consequent we can infer that any particular case of inference is from a reason to a consequent, from the existence of a determining condition to that of the entity conditioned. But the law as apprehended, or the conception of the law, is to be distinguished from the law itself. The former is a ground of deduction, but not the latter. The law of reason and conse- quent is the mode of the mind's action in forming an inference ; but in itself 'it is not the ground of any inference. This law, as mentally apprehended, as a general truth setting forth the radical nature of reasoning, so far from being an uni- versal ground of inference, is a ground of inference only when we may be reasoning about reasoning, and not when we may be reasoning about other things. In such cases our use of it only exemplifies the operation of one or other of those specific principles which govern reasoning from general truths. We ma}' reason thus : 4 ' All inference is from an antecedent to a consequent ; from smoke we infer fire ; therefore here is an antecedent and a consequent." In this case the law of reason and consequent, as a general truth, forms part (only part) of the reason which the two premises compose ; the principle, or law, underlying the argument, and according to which (not from which) we reason, is, il What belongs to anything in the gen- eral, must belong to it in any individual instance.''' But even this law is only a specific example of the generic law of reason and consequent. It is true that in every inference we not only think, ]iess S of°ti!e but think consciously, of one entity or complex of process of in- entities as existing, and of another as necessarily co- icrcncG docs ** not involve existent with it, and so deduce the existence of the frM^tKaw k^ter from that of the former. In other words, while of reason and inferring, we more or less distinctly understand what consequent. j • x» a • 1 ^ we are doing. But we can give no reason why the one entity is a reason and the other a consequent, or why we should thus form an inference. So that we do not reason from one thing to another because we perceive them to be reason and consequent, but we perceive things to be reason and consequent because ice can reason from the one to the other. In short, the law of reason and consequent as a principle of knowledge — the statement that " every inference has an antecedent and a necessary consequent " — helps to test what professes to be an inference, and to analyze what is known to be such ; but it never reveals whether or not a case of consequence may exist, 138 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIX or what consequent, in any case, should follow a given ante- cedent. On the other hand, the law of reason and consequent in itself is the radical mode of action experienced in every op- eration of the reasoning power. The fact, whatever it may be, which constitutes the antecedent, suggests the fact related to it as consequent ; and thereupon we infer, not from the law of reason and consequent, but from a reason to a consequent, and according to the law of reason and consequent. Every true ^ n speaking of reason and consequent, it is to be reason is a understood that every reason is specially fitted by its sufficient or. ,, n •. . ■% ■ adequate nature to be a reason for its consequent, and, con- reason, versely, that every consequent is similarly fitted to be a consequent of its reason. It would be absurd to say that any reason may serve for any consequent. To suppose this — that we could infer anything from anything — would be to destroy our conception of reasoning. Hence the law of inference has been characterized, sometimes, as the " law of sufficient reason." Possibly it might be better named the " law of adequate rea- son" meaning a reason fitted by its nature, to involve the existence of the consequent in its own existence. As already suggested, this is really part of our conception of a reason ; for every true reason is an adequate one. But the expression brings the fact to view that the law contains two elements : first, that the existence of the consequent is necessarily con- nected with that of the antecedent ; and, secondly, that this necessary connection arises out of the special natures and nat- ural relations of antecedent and consequent. Thus the reason, " James is the father of William, who is the father of John," has the consequent, "James is the grandfather of John." Wiry? Because the double antecedent-fact and the single consequent- fact are of such a nature, and are so related by reason of their nature, that the former cannot exist without the latter. The law of So far, for the sake of simplicity of statement, we reason and have spoken of the law of inference as if it always more fuiiy proceeded from one existing entity to another entity stated. necessarily co-existent. But it is to be noticed that inferential no less than presentative judgment and belief con- sider the non-existent as well as the existent, and that we infer not only from the existent to the existent, hut also from the existent to the non-existent, and from the non-existent to the existent and to the non-existent. By the non-existent, of course, we mean non-existence in a case where something might be supposed to exist. In short, there are both positive and nega- tive inferences ; and either may follow from either positive or negative facts. "There is no fuel, and therefore no smoke;" Chap. XIX.] ILLATIVE EVIDENCE. 139 " There is no food in the land, therefore there is disease and death," are examples of inference from non-existence. "The rock formation is granite, and does not contain coal," is an in- ference from existence to non-existence. The explanation of these forms of inference lies in the fact that there may be nega- tive as well as* positive conditions of a necessity, and negative as well as positive consequents of a necessit}'. Such being the case, a complete statement of the law of inference should refer to other cases than that in which both antecedent and consequent are positive. The whole truth might be expressed in the propo- sition that inference always proceeds from a given fact, positive or negative, to another fact, positive or negative, necessarily connected with the given fact. 3. A satisfactory understanding of the doctrine of stated. CU The inference calls for the discussion of another point, inferences of Tms pertains to a difficulty connected with the logi- cal rule, "Affirm the reason, and }*ou affirm the con- sequent ; deny the consequent, and 3011 deny the reason : but affirm the consequent, and ,you do not affirm the reason ; or deny the reason, and }X>u do not den} T the consequent." This rule, as it stands, applies only to such inferences as have positive antecedents and consequents, for we cannot properly be said to affirm a negative statement. Strictly speaking, it would be more correct to say, "Assert the reason, and you assert the conse- quent ; deny (or contradict) the consequent, and you deny (or contradict) the reason : but assert the consequent, and you do not assert the reason ; and den}' the reason, and you do not contradict the consequent." This rule may be illustrated from the example, "There is no fuel, and therefore no smoke." Plainly, if we assert that there is no fuel, we may assert that there is no smoke ; and if we deny that there is no smoke (sa}*ing there is smoke) , we ma} T deny that there is no fuel (saying there is fuel) . But if we assert that there is no smoke, we cannot assert that there is no fuel, for there may be fuel which is not smoking ; and for this same reason also, if we deny that there is no fuel (saying there is fuel) , we cannot deny that there is no smoke (sa}ing there is smoke). In either case there may be fuel which does not produce smoke. In this example antecedent and consequent are both negative ; an inference with positive parts, such as ''Caius is a man ; therefore he is mortal," would furnish simpler illustrations. The perplexit}', however, to which we have referred, pertains not to the form, but to the origin and ground, of the rule which has now been stated. As regards the first half of the rule, the clause "Assert the reason and assert the consequent," is simply 140 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XIX. the immediate practical application of the law of reason and consequent. We also easily approve the direction, " Deny the consequent and deny the reason," for the necessitating condition of anything cannot exist if the thing necessitated do not exist. To suppose the contrary would be to suppose a contradiction, — namely, a necessity for the existence of an entit} 7 which does not exist. The difficulty, therefore, is confined to the two clauses which make up the latter half of the rule ; for since the reason is the necessitating antecedent of the consequent, it ma}' be asked, How can the consequent exist if the reason do not? and also, How can the reason be non-existent if the consequent be a fact? Can the thing conditioned exist while the conditions are (or have been) without existence ? Or can the conditions be non-existent while the thing conditioned ma}' exist? This is the difficulty. The explanation is to be expiahu3! lty f° Linc l m a distinction between the true and exact Separable logical conditions (or determinants) of the existence of rabieante*" an entity and those conditions under some envelopment. c ede . , e -, , -, , TTr i or correahty, 01 antecedent and consequent. We need scarcely remark that the co-existence here spoken of is of the most general character, and is not contemporaneous existence. Antecedents with reference to their consequents are sometimes past, sometimes present, and sometimes future ; and the con- verse is true as to consequents. So, also, when we say that the antecedent, or reason, necessitates the consequent, we do not mean at all to say that the antecedent contains the cause of the consequent and makes it to be, but only that the antecedent Chap. XX.] LOGICAL NECESSITY. 149 contains the logical condition of the consequent ; in other words, that if the antecedent exist, the consequent also, as existing in some necessar}* relation to it, cannot be made not to exist. For the most fruitful source of misconception on contrasted this subject is the confusion of logical with causal with logical necessit}', when the latter includes more than the former, and should be regarded as a prominent and peculiar species of it. In every necessity there is a necessitating antecedent and a necessitated consequent ; and our use of lan- guage, together with a subjective reference to the sequence of thought, favors the idea that there is alwa} T s power in the ante- cedent to produce the consequent. But such is not the case. The exercise of power belongs to those antecedents only by which something is literally caused to be or not to be. In all others there is no power — that is, no exercise of power as oper- ative or as related to its effect — but only what may limit the operation of power. The fact that two quantities are each equal to a third contains no efficiency making them equal to one another, but it is a fact of such a nature that the mutual equality exists with it, and cannot be made not to exist. The fact that Paris is in France and that France is in Europe, is not the efficient cause of Paris being in Europe, but it is a fact with which the other fact necessarily co-exists. Causal necessity, on the contrary, takes place and exists whenever any beginning or change of existence is produced or prevented ; and the exercise of power is its principal condition. For when power sufficient for some result is exercised, and there is no adequate power of opposition, the result must follow. In- deed, when speaking of an event as necessary, we naturally and commonly think of it as causally necessar}-, that is, as being made to exist by some sufficient efficiency, and not simply as existing in circumstances in which no power can make it not to exist. Thus the thing as necessary is seen to have these two relations to power ; but, considered simply as logically neces- sary, the latter alone belongs to it. In this way the words " necessit}' " and i; necessary " have an ambiguity. The difference between causal and merely logical necessity may be understood from this, that the former pertains to things only as they result from the exercise of power, and includes their relatedness to the efficiency producing them, but the latter be- longs to things in various other relations beside that of an effect to its cause, and excludes, from its own proper nature, the pe- culiarity of this relationship. A cause in its relation to an effect is as logically necessary as an effect in its relation to its cause ; yet the effect has no efficiency to produce the cause. Therefore 150 MENTAL SCIENCE, [Chap. XX. the logical necessity of the effect does not include the fact that power causes it to be, but arises because of the fact that power causes it to be ; for, there being an adequate cause, the effect exists, and this cannot be otherwise. This difference between causal and logical necessity noscendt IS the ground of the distinction between the ratio cog- and ratio noscendi, or order of perception, and the ratio essendi. or order of existence. The order of perception is the same as that of logical necessity, in which the consequent is said to follow the antecedent, — this meaning that its existence is con- nected with, and inferable from, that of the antecedent ; but the order of existence is that of causal necessity, in which an effect literally follows its cause. The one order sometimes coincides with the other, but more frequently it does not. We cannot too firmly fix it in our minds that logical necessity, not causal, is the necessit} 7 referred to in every act of reasoning ; and that when we say that a consequent exists because an antecedent exists, we do not mean to say that it is caused by the ante- cedent, but only that it necessarily exists as related to the ante- cedent. Inference depends upon conditions, not upon causes, — upon causes only so far as they are conditions. The relation We have now discussed logical necessity as the of logical external basis of inference. For in reasoning we XlfJCO^Slt v to inference ex- perceive a fact not immediately, but because of its actlydetined - necessary co-existence with some known fact. The question, however, may now be asked, whether we do not, in the first place, simply perceive the fact as connected with the other fact, and then, as confirmation of this cognition, perceive the necessity of the co-existence, — that the fact could not be otherwise. Such, ice believe, is the case. That is, the percep- tion of the concomitant fact does not depend on the perception of its necessity, but rather the reverse is true. For the neces- sitj' originates from the nature and relations of the fact, and therefore presupposes the fact. But a belief thus formed, if in any way questioned, is instantly confirmed by a perception of the necessity of the fact as related to the given fact ; and such inferential belief is formed only in cases where this necessity exists. Evidently the mind has a wonderful power of suggestion, whereby, independently of any consideration of necessity, it sees things unseen as co-existent with, and related to, things seen. But the unseen,' while thus perceived, is always neces- sarily co-existent and related, and ma} r be viewed also in this light. Logical relations are always necessary relations. We infer only such things as have some necessity of existence, either absolute or relative. If one should classify the necessaiy rela- Chap. XXL] LOGICAL POSSIBILITY. 151 tions of fact, he would classify also the various modes of infer- ence. The doctrine of necessity, and of things as necessarily related, cannot be separated from the doctrine of reasoning. CHAPTER XXI. LOGICAL POSSIBILITY. 1. Logical possibility — that is, possibility in general, nition dis- considered as the basis of a certain mode of reasoning — cussed and has been thus defined in scholastic language: " Possibilitas amended. est consens i inter se, seu non-repugnantia, partium vel attributorum quibus res, seu ens, constituatur." This might be ren- dered: " Possibility is the mutual harmony, or non-repugnance, of the parts, or attributes, which constitute any thing, or entity." To this statement it may be properly objected that the parts of a possible object must not only harmonize with each other, but that they, and the object as a whole, must also harmonize with other things, — that is, with the circumstances in which the object is sup- posed to exist. Let the problem be to construct a square with four straight lines of different lengths. We say, this is impossible, because a plane figure with four sides of different lengths cannot contain right angles. The parts of such a thing are connictive with one another. There is no contradiction, however, in the idea of a square with four straight sides of equal length. The parts of such a figure are mutually compatible ; and, in general, it is clear that the parts of a thing possible must be compatible with one another. But it is also evident that the construc- tion of a square of a given area is possible only on a plane surface of suf- ficient dimensions ; for example, a blackboard. It would be impossible to make such a figure on a spherical surface, or on a plane surface less than itself in area. This shows that the parts, or elements, of the object must harmonize, not only with each other, but also with the circumstances in which the object is perceived, or supposed, to exist. We may, indeed, justify the scholastic definition by so enlarging our conception of the thing possible as to take in the given circumstances . We may make these, as it were, parts of the object. Thus "a square with a side of four inches on a board six inches by six" maybe regarded as one possible object ; and " a square with a side of eight inches on a board six by six" as one impossible object. But this comprehensive mode of conception is not one generally employed. Philosophers should adapt their language, when this is possible, to common modes of thought; and in the present case it would be better to say that possibility is the harmony of the parts of an object with each other and with given surroundings. 152 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXL Logical pos- sibility is an existential compati- bility. But let us note, further, that, ordinarily, the internal possibility of a thing is taken for granted ; so that our inquiry, for the most part, concerns only external possibility. An animal is a thing internally possible, because its parts may co-exist; and it is externally possible where there are food and air and other necessaries. When we ask whether animal life is possible in some distant region of the universe or amid the surroundings of some past geologic age, our question evidently limits itself to the thought of the compatibility of animal life with certain external circumstances pertaining to food, air, climate, and so forth. Indeed, our common mode of thinking being directed almost exclusively to external consistencies, ordinary logical possibility might be defined simply as the compatibility of a thing with given surround- ings; in which definition, however, the presupposition is involved, that the parts, or attributes, of the thing are harmonious with each other. A very wide definition of possibility is that it is the compati- bility of one thing with another, or with others, with which it may be per- ceived, or supposed, to co-exist. This statement covers both external and internal possibility; for it implies both that the parts mutually harmonize, and that the object, as a whole, is compatible with given circumstances. The words "harmony" and "compatibility" ordinarily mean that two or more persons have such dispositions that they live together in peace and without hatred; or that different notes of music are such that they do not make a disagreeable but a pleasant sound ; or that two trades or occupations are such that both may be profitably pursued at the same time by the same person. In such cases the compatibility of two or more things allows the existence of another thing, while their incom- patibility would prevent the existence of that other thing. According to this use of terms, incompatible things may exist together, but can- not be attended with peace or pleasure or profit. When, however, we speak of logical compatibility or incompatibility, we mean simply that two things are such that they may exist together, the one with the other, or that they are such that they cannot exist together. Logical possibility, therefore, might be defined as the existential har- mony of one thing with others. Yet even this should be accepted as presenting rather an analogy than an analysis; for the relation of existential compatibility has something in it ultimate and sui generis. The thought of it is very simple, like that of existence or of non- existence ; and it is to be contrasted with the relation of logical con- fliction, or repugnance, very much in the same way that existence is to be contrasted with non-existence. The radical ^ ne mos ^ important question touching logical possibility law of infer- concerns the mode in which the mind determines respecting eiice in pos- anything whether it be possible or not. This leads to the remark that the doctrine of possibility, like that of necessity, is intimately related to the doctrine of conditions, — that is, to the doc- trine of the necessary conditions of a thing. For here, to avoid confu- sion, we must distinguish two senses in which the term " condition " may be used in connection with the subject of possibility ; because if one should ask, Is such a thing possible under such and such condi- Chap. XXL] LOGICAL POSSIBILITY. 153 tions? it is plain that be would not be speaking of the necessary conditions of the existence of a thing. It would be foolish to ask whether a thing is compatible with the necessary conditions of its existence. He would simply mean, Is the thing possible under such and such circumstances? In the present discussion let us employ the word "■circumstances" for those given or supposed facts with which something may be affirmed or denied to be possibly co-existent. And let us confine the term " condition " to the necessary conditions of the existence of a thing. We have already seen that these condi- tions may be divided into three classes, — the constitutive, the causal, and the concomitant. ]S T ow it is self-evident that a thing can exist only where the neces- sary conditions of its existence can exist, — in other words, the com- patibility of a thing with given circumstances involves also the compatibility of its conditions with those circumstances. Therefore, when a thing is possible in its constitutive, causal, and concomitant conditions, it is possible in every respect; and the possibility of a thing may be determined by determining the possibility of its conditions. This radical principle is the most important in the philosophy of the possible. Very little examination will satisfy any one that inferences in possi- bility take place according to the law just mentioned. After it is settled that the thing in itself — that is, in its constitutive conditions — is possible, we naturally proceed to discuss whether its causal and concomitant conditions, severally, be compatible with the case or not. After it had been decided that a telegraphic wire twenty-five hundred miles in length could be made and operated, the further questions arose: Can it be insulated against the pressure of great weights of water? Can it be let down to the bottom of the ocean without twist- ing and breaking it ? Can machinery be devised for the construction of it, and vessels be procured for its conveyance ? And can the con- fidence of capitalists be obtained, so that the necessary expenses may be met ? The first Atlantic cable followed upon an affirmative answer to these questions. Evidently we infer the possibility of a thing from the possibility of its conditions. The postu- To some this statement may present a difficulty. It may latesofpos- be said: If the possible involve possible conditions, will sibihty. no £ t} iese involve yet other possible conditions, and these still others; and so will not an infinite regression be needed to estab- lish any possibility ? We reply that it would be needed were there not conditions whose possibility is self-evident. But an immediate per- ception of possibility takes place in several ways. In the first place, whatever actually exists in any given circum- stances, exists under every one of its necessary conditions, and is possible in every respect. Hence in those frequent cases in which a condition actually exists, there is no need of inquiry as to the possibility of that condition. In the second place, whatever has existed may, in similar circum- stances, exist again ; and this principle enables us to determine the possibility of a condition which, though not known to be fact, is known exactly to resemble fact. For the thought of possibility per- 154 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXI. tains to forms conceived of as existing, and not to real things as such ; and we may at once, and once for all, perceive a form to be possible. Finally, in other cases there is no regression, because the radical, or ontological, elements and conditions of tilings, — such as spaces, times, powers, substances, actions, and changes, — in the various relations according to which these condition one another, are immediately recognized by the mind as possible. Thus many radical conceptions of things pos- sible are formed. In the use of these conceptions, in which the possi- bility of the ontological character and conditions of a thing is asserted, other and less abstract possibilities are determined. We say it is possible for a bushel measure to contain a peck of potatoes. This is simply the concrete operation of the principle that what can contain the greater can contain the less. But this law of the possible in spacial measures, together with the possibility of its conditions, — such as space, substance, quantity, and the mutual relations of these things according to the terms of the law, — is immediately perceived by the mind. Such ultimate conceptions or judgments may be styled the first principles, or postulates, of possibility. Like our conceptions of fundamental necessities, they seem to be originally formed by the mind during its perception of facts. The foregoing remarks show how the statement is to be taken that the possibility of a thing must be inferred from that of its conditions. Of course, when possibility is self-evident, it need not be perceived inferentially-, in a large number of cases it may be immediately per- ceived, and therefore need not be proved. 2. Such are the essential points in the doctrine of logical possibility. But an exact understanding of this doctrine calls for some supplemen- tary statements. First, let us note that although the conception of possi- The a j: ser " bility involves the conception of existence, the assertion of bility does possibility does not, of itself, involve the assertion either of not involve existence or of non-existence. A thing is possible in that existence ^ ^ s possible to be, or as to its existence. Therefore, to determine the question of possibility, we have first to con- ceive of a thing as existing, and then to ask whether its existence is compatible with the given circumstances. But while we must con- ceive or imagine the thing in question to exist, we do not. assert either that it is or that it is not. The assertion of possibility, in itself, only states that if a certain thing should exist it would harmonize with given circumstances; it does not say whether the thing exists or not. Frequently, indeed, we ask whether a thing not now existing may be realized in the future, or may have been realized in the past; and then, combining the idea of non-existence with that of possibility, ice mean by the possible the merely possible, the non-existent possible. This limita- tion of thought is implied, also, when we contrast the possible with the actual, — when, for example, we speak of all things actual and of all things possible. In such cases there is an addition made to the simple idea of possibility of something which is non-essential to that idea; for we can also say that a thing is not only possible but act- ual, and that it is possible because it is actual. The transmission of thought through the depths of the ocean is possible because it is a Chap. XXL] LOGICAL POSSIBILITY. 155 thing in actual operation. We can even say, in one very literal sense, that nothing is possible but what is actual; for only that which actually exists, can exist in actual compatibility with other things. The possibility of a thing which does not exist, and which is only conceived to exist, is only a conceived-of possibility. We think very frequently of this merely ideal possibility, and much more frequently of it than we do of that actual possibility which the ideal would become if the object really existed. In this way we come to suppose that the assertion of possibility necessarily involves the non-existence of the thing possible. But that assertion, consid- ered purely and in itself, does not involve a belief either in the ex~ istence or in the non-existence of its subject. That it does not, is evident, because the conviction of possibility is often cherished with the hope that it may add to itself the perception of fact. Those who went lately in search of the Arctic explorers did so in the hope, " They may be yet alive." Real and liy- I 11 connection with the statement that possibility may potiietica) be either actual or ideal, — the possibility of a fact or possibility, foe possibility of a thing supposed, — we must mark a very peculiar distinction of possibility into the real and the hypotheti- cal. One might suppose real and hypothetical possibility to be the same as the actual and the ideal possibility just mentioned. The words naturally bear this signification ; but in point of fact they are used in another sense. A thing is called really possible when any of its conditions are real and known to exist, even though the thing itself does not exist; and it is hypothetically possible when any of its conditions, being either non-existent or not known to exist, are yet supposed to be. These modes of possibility are consistent both with each other and with actual impossibility. Had a man plenty of money to buy a farm, which the owner nevertheless could not be induced to sell at any price, the purchase would be really possible so far as regards money, and hy- pothetically possible so far as regards the consent of the owner, yet, on the whole, actually impossible. We do not commonly, however, while asserting real possibility, know that the object under considera- tion is, on the whole, impossible; nor do we always understand that the condition supposed in hypothetical possibility is non-existent : we fre- quently do know that it does not exist, but sometimes only do not know whether it exists or not. If the searchers for the Arctic explorers did not know, or have good reason to believe, that the explorers had food sufficient to support them for a given time, the hope of finding them alive would be supported by a possibility only abstract and hypo- thetical ; yet this possibility of a sufficiency of food would consist with the fact of a sufficiency. Partial and Again, philosophy requires that we should discriminate perfected between partial and perfected possibility. A thing may be possibility. k nown or supposed to be possible with reference to all the necessary conditions of its existence or with reference to some only; in this latter case it may be said to be partially, and in the former to be perfectly, possible. Partial possibility consists with either necessity or impossibility; but perfected possibility involves necessity, and excludes 156 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXI. impossibility. For example, if a person had ability, opportunity, prep- aration, and sufficient inducement to make a speech, — in short, all the conditions of this effect, — the speech would be both possible and necessary. But if only one or two conditions were known or supposed to exist, and it were left unsettled whether or not the others existed or could exist, then the speech would be possible so far as concerned the known or posited conditions, but, on the whole, it might be either necessary or impossible. So far as a thing is possible, it is compatible with other things ; so far as it is necessary, it is inseparably coherent with other things. These are different, though they are intimately allied relations. Logical (lis- Another needful distinction is that between possibility languished in general, or logical possibility (or compossibility, as Chil- po°ssibu?ty al lin 8' vvortn named it), and causal possibility. This is exactly parallel to the distinction, already discussed, between causal and logical necessity. A thing is causally possible when any of its causal conditions does or may exist. Power, adequate in nature and degree to the production of the object, is the most important of these conditions. When we find that an adequate power exists, we say that the thing is possible so far as that condition is concerned. Then we inquire concerning other conditions, and from their existence or non- existence determine the question as to the remaining elements of a complete possibility. If there were a tailor, we would know that a coat was possible so far as regards productive skill. We might then ask, Is it possible as regards material ? Where are the cloth, lining, thread, buttons, and so forth ? Next, Is it possible as to instru- ments ? Has the man a workshop, needles, scissors, and other imple- ments? Finally, Is it possible as to sufficient inducement? Have you the money to pay the tailor for the coat? Thus one might suc- cessively consider the different causal conditions of a coat, so far as there was any question concerning each ; and he would naturally do so in the order of their practical importance. On the other hand, a thing is logically possible when any of its neces- sary conditions exist, whether they be causal conditions or not. A man ignorant of the details of Japanese geography might say, "Yokohama and Yeddo may be twenty, or they may be one hundred, miles apart, for all that I know: " because either of these supposed things would be compatible with the fact that both cities are in Japan ; either of them would be possible with reference simply to space relations. Only effects are causally possible ; causes, as such, are possible logically, not causally. God is neither causally possible nor causally necessary, — he never could have been produced, — but he is logically possible and logically necessary. His existence is both compatible with that of the universe, and necessary as that of the cause of the universe, — a cause that must have existed. The reasonings of pure mathematics refer to logical but not to causal possibility and necessity. The thoughts of daily life and of scientific experiment are chiefly con- cerned with causal. These thoughts, too, greatly influence our ordi- nary use of language. Hence the possible often signifies that which can be produced or brought about; indeed, originally the possible may have been the practicable or the makable. But possibility in general Chap. XXL] LOGICAL POSSIBILITY. 157 is simply the existential compatibility of a thing, and its conditions, with given circumstances, and is not at all confined to the compatibility of the production of a thing with given circumstances. Reasoning in 3. We are now prepared to understand how the mind, in its possibility is pursuit of the cognition of fact, — which alone is true and subservient comp } e te cognition, — forms and uses its knowledge of the in necessity 3 possible. One is often unable to determine directly, from Five steps. n i s knowledge of the circumstances of a case, what the truth may be respecting some point of inquiry, — that is, he is unable to discover any real antecedent which, as involving a logical condition, necessitates the reality of some object conceived of. Such antecedents may exist, but he knows not where to seek for them, or, at least, has not been able to find any. In these circumstances the direct search for truth is abandoned, and the inquiry, Is the thing supposed pos- sible ? takes the place of the question, Is it necessary 'i This inquiry as to possibility may be prosecuted in various ways; but when fully developed it is twofold, referring, first, to hypothetical, and then to real, possibility. For first, if need be, we ask as to the abstract possibility of the thing, — that is, its possibility without reference either to any specific circumstances or to the actual existence or non-existence of any con- ditions. This inquiry is to determine the ideal com possibility of the conditions, internal and external, of the object with each other, and with the necessary elements and laws of being. If any conditions be found incompatible with each other, or with any radical law of exist- ence, there is no need of further inquiry. No matter what existing circumstances may be, the thing is impossible, and does not exist. But if the abstract supposition do not thus involve contradiction and absurdity, our next inquiry might concern the hypothetical possibility of the thing under the given circumstances. In other words, we might ask whether the necessary conditions of the thing be possible and sup- posable in the case presented. Here, also, if any condition should appear thus impossible, our quest for truth would terminate. Otherwise we should immediately pass to the second leading inquiry concerning possibility, and should ask, Is the thing really possibles Do its conditions really exist t For we assume that an attentive study of the thing under consideration has brought distinctly to view its neces- sary parts and other conditions. Suppose now tee find that some con- dition of the thing does not exist, is not contained in the given circumstances. This being the case, the thing is really impossible; for a thing cannot exist so long as any one of its conditions is non- existent. Thus, again, the possible has been our guide to the real; it has led again to the really non-existent. But suppose, further, that every condition concerning which we can in- quire is found to be a reality. We now say that, so far as we can see, the thing is really possible, and cannot be denied to exist; we can in- ferentially deny only the impossible. In this case reasoning in pos- sibility enables one to reject any unfounded disbelief, — that is, any unfounded belief in the non-existence of the object, — and prepares the mind for the proper consideration of evidence. Moreover, logical conditions, or exact antecedents, being composed 158 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXL of necessary conditions, inquiry after the latter puts us better in the way of meeting with the former, or with reasons containing them ; and thus, searching within and over the field of necessary conditions, we are in the way of finding conclusive antecedents, if such are dis- coverable. Finally, therefore, suppose that certaiti conditions are found to be real, which, taken together, can belong to but one object, and that the object whose reality is in question. The inference of possibility is now replaced by the inference of fact ; our inquiry terminates in the asser- tion of positive reality. Thus, in several ways and degrees, reasoning in possibility subserves reasoning in necessity. The ordinary inference of the possible is concerned, almost exclusively, with real possibility and real conditions. The abstract possibility of a thing is generally known before the commencement of inquiry; and that hypothetical possibility which is limited by the given circum- stances serves only to direct our search after real conditions. Those who set out to rescue the' Arctic explorers had no doubt that men could exist anywhere under certain conditions ; nor had they any difficulty in imagining that their long-absent countrymen might still live under those conditions, even in the most frozen and inhospitable latitudes. But their hopes and their search were based on the belief that some of those conditions were, or had been, actual, and that oth- ers might be found to exist. They knew that the expedition had been sent out in strong and well-equipped vessels, with abundant provision of clothing, food, and fuel, and with the means of obtaining such sup- plies as those hyperborean regions afforded. These facts were the basis of a real possibility. Still the questions were unsettled whether the ships had proved of sufficient strength, whether provisions had not been exhausted, and whether the adventurers had succeeded in pro- curing additional supplies. Let us suppose, now, that the rescuing party, in their progress, should obtain, from natives or from deposited records, evidence as to one and another of these doubtful points. Plainly their hope would be confirmed, — the possibility of timely re- lief would become more real; it would be based on a greater number of real conditions. Finally, should they ascertain that the explorers had been lately seen, and that they had the necessary means of living for a certain time, they would press forward in the full confidence of finding them. Inference of 4. The explanations above given describe only the infer- tile possible ence of that which we ordinarily mean by the possible. Com- nottobe. monly the possible means the possible to be, just as the impossible commonly signifies the impossible to be. Sometimes, how- ever, we speak of the possible not to be, of that whose non-existence is or would be compatible with given circumstances; and our reason- ing concerning this possible has a law of its own. A thing is inferred as possible to be when its conditions, so far as considered, exist or are possible; but it is inferred as possible not to be when its conditions, so far as found existent or possible, do not constitute a logical condition. This is the law of the possibility not to be, real and hypothetical. We see, therefore, how reasoning in possibility (whether positive or negative possibility) is closely related to reasoning in necessity Chap. XXII] CONTINGENCY AND PROBABILITY. 159 (whether positive or negative). Both modes of inference are based on the radical principle that all things exist as conditioned. Both arise from the consideration of things as conditioned; both even have a reference to logical conditions. The necessary to be is inferred directly from the existence of such a condition. The impossible, or necessary not to be, is inferred from the non-existence of one or more of those necessary conditions out of which every logical condition is consti- tuted. The possible to be is inferred from the existence of necessary conditions when we can at the same time suppose the existence of a logical condition containing them. And the possible not to be is in- ferred from the existence of necessary conditions when we can suppose the non-existence of the logical condition of which they would be parts. These remarks show how the possible to be leads towards the neces- sary, and how the possible not to be leads towards the impossible. CHAPTER XXII. CONTINGENCY AND PROBABILITY. Intermedi- 1- The only definition of possibility which seems to ate possibil- cover every case is that which makes it the existential ity defined, compatibility of one thing with others. When the exist- ence of a thing, so far as relates to any of its necessary conditions, is compatible with given circumstances, we have the possible to be; and when its non-existence, notwithstanding the existence of some condi- tions, is compatible with given circumstances, we have the possible not to be. When all the necessary conditions of a thing exist, it is both perfectly possible to be and necessary to be; and when any of these conditions do not exist, it is both perfectly possible not to be and impossible to be. But when some of the conditions exist, and we have no reason to believe the others existent or to believe them non- existent, we say that the thing is possible either to be or not to be. This, too, is the possibility most frequently considered. W T hen possibility has this double character it may be called inter- mediate, as lying between those possibilities, positive and negative, which belong to facts, and which consist with necessity and impossi- bility. This intermediate possibility is of the same nature with that already described as partial, excepting only that it has a doubleness, and looks in two directions. The above statements, for the sake of simplicity, directly refer only to real possibility, in which conditions are not merely supposed, but as- serted to exist. Similar statements might be made in regard to hypo- thetical possibility; which, however, we need not specifically discuss. . Intermediate possibility is the primary basis or ground defined! 61107 f° r judgments of probability; and when it is thought of as such, it is styled contingency. For it could not be probable that there will be frost in Clinton on the 4th of March, were it not possible both that there should be and that there should not be frost 160 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXII. in Clinton on that day. Contingency, therefore, is an interme- diate possibility, for it belongs to that which both may be and may not be. Yet contingency, as we commonly think of it, does not include all possibility of this kind, but only such as may be used as a basis for a judgment of probability. For a thing contingent, although not therein also probable, yet is possible in such a mode as to render the inquiry reasonable whether it be probable or not. Contingency, as having this suggestive force, might be called a strong possibility. Were a beautiful poem published anonymously, search would not be made among men in general for its author, but only among a certain class of men; and although, in an extreme and abstract sense, one might say that it is contingent to a man to write poetry, yet, for the purposes of inquiry, we would limit this contingency to persons poeti- cally gifted. In this way two forms of possibility may be distin- guished, both of which might indeed be termed contingency, but the latter of which specially deserves the name. The antece- The origin of this distinction is to be found in the dent of pos- diverse character of the conditions on which the possibili- b^stron^or ^ es depend. AVe have seen that a thing is possible with weak. The reference to any necessary condition of its existence when former is the that condition exists; therefore such a condition, as exist- of contin- ing", may be termed an antecedent of possibility. But of gency. such antecedents there are two kinds, — one weak, and the other strong. These arise, respectively, according as the antecedent of possibility does or does not approximate to an antecedent of necessity, or rather to that logical condition which every antecedent of neces- sity involves. We have seen that every logical condition is composed of necessary conditions. It is also clear that any condition ichich is complex is also composed of such conditions ; for any conditio?! in all its parts is neces- sary to that which it conditions. Now a condition which, though falling short of a logical condition, so resembles some such condition already known to us as immediately to suggest it to our minds, may be called a strong condition, because, in the absence of any conclusive informa- tion, it suggests the thought, " The whole logical condition may exist, and the consequent therefore may be a fact." But a condition which does not thus resemble a logical condition may be called weak ; for it suggests no necessitating condition, and affords no basis or starting-point for search. If a criminal escaped from justice, it would not excite inquiry on the part of the proper officers to be told that there was a man in such or such a place. Although this would be a necessary condition of the location of any criminal, the possibility resting on it would not sug- gest any logical necessitant. But if they should learn that a person resembling the criminal somewhat had made his appearance in a cer- tain city just after the time of the escape, they would say, " Possibly he is the man." In this case there would be something more than abstract theoretical possibility; there would be a strong practical pos- sibility, a contingency, attaching itself to the man heard from, that he may be the criminal in question. The mere existence of a Chap. XXII] CONTINGENCY AND PROBABILITY. 161 man somewhere is the antecedent of possibility; that of the man re- sembling the criminal is the antecedent of contingency. The latter, by the addition of only a few particulars, may become a logical neces- sitant; and the thought of such particulars is immediately suggested to the mind. At the same time the antecedent of contingency does not of itself establish a probability, but only a strong or suggestive possibility, — a mere indeterminate chance. The question whether the chances for the supposition be one in ten or one in ten thousand, or whether they can be found to have any definite ratio to the chances against the supposition, is to be resolved by further considerations. 2. This indeterminate judgment of contingency, however, S? bfiolov, rj ivavriov, r) rov o-weyyus." Thus he gives the relations of nearness in time, of similarity, of contrariety, and of vicinity, as the fundamental conditions, at least of intentional recollection. Acompari- 3. Comparing Hume with Aristotle, we find that son of views, the modern philosopher mentions the relation of cause 'Pllf* Yf* 1*} tl Oil ^ of cause ana and effect, which is not named by the ancient one; contrari^ty f wm ^ e Aristotle specifies contrariet}', which is not in specially Hume's enumeration. In each case a reason can be discussed. given for the omiss | on> Oh the behalf of Aristotle it ma}' be denied that the relation of cause and effect could, of itself, form a suggestional law, if the objects connected by it had not been -previously considered as existing together or in imme- diate succession. No causal object could suggest any resultant object which had not previously been seen as closely related to it in time and space ; and so, conversely, as to the resultant object. This denial, however, admits of the reply that although a cause and its effect must always be first seen Under the contigui- ties of time and space, yet the particulars of these contiguities, and even the contiguities themselves, may be entirely lost sight of or neglected, while }'et the association of thought remains. When we hear a voice we expect to find a person, and this with- out the slightest reference to any time or place where the con- nection between speech and speaker ma} T have been perceived by us. This reply would be satisfactory to us, though we are not sure that Hume could consistently use it. Again, on Hume's behalf, a strong reason may be given for the omission of contrariety from the list of suggestive relations. It is that no objects are contrasted with one another save those which have a common nature, or general resemblance, on which nature, as a background, their differences become prominently noticeable. An elephant is contrasted with a mouse, not with a pebble, because the two objects first mentioned are both quad- rupeds. A giant is contrasted, not with a shrub, but with a dwarf or a child, because the latter also are human beings. White is contrasted with red, and hot with cold, because the things thus contrasted have an underlying sameness ; we do not oppose white to hot, or cold to red. Caesar, passing through an Alpine village, remarked that he would rather be the first man Chap. XXIV.] PRIMARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 183 there than the second in Rome ; such a thought would not have occurred to him had not both the petty village and the world's great capital been alike the dwelling-places of men. The an- tithesis of objects is founded on their likeness no less than on their dissimilarity. Such being the case, it must be allowed that without simi- larity contraries could not suggest one another, and indeed that contraries suggest one another b}* reason of their radical likeness rather than of their opposite qualities. This is evident, because things which are so different from each other as to have no noticeable sameness do not suggest each other at all. Yet while likeness, not difference, is the bond of association in cases of contrast, it is also clear that contrariety strengthens this bond and intensifies the suggestive tendencj*. We more readily think of an opposite than of an object which without contrast may partake of a generic resemblance. This seems to result from the desires of the mind ; for if we are seeking rational knowl- edge, contrast contributes to the clearness of our analysis, and is naturally sought on this account ; while if we have practical ends in view, we naturally aim to know what ma} T disappoint as well as what ma}' gratify our wishes. Contrariety, therefore, may be considered a ground of suggestion, yet only in a secondary way, and because of certain motivities which operate in connec- tion with the law of resemblance, and qualifj' its workings. Considering the law of contrariety as a peculiar and important mode of the law of similarity, and on this account omitting it from a generic enumeration, there remain the laws of contiguity, of immediate consecution, of cause and effect, and of resemblance. Contemplating these again carefully, two thoughts arise. First, it is apparent that any one of the three laws simultaneity first mentioned operates only when objects have been fty 1 °Botii U " alread}', at some previous time, perceived or imagined explained by to co-exist in the relation to which the law refers, — dintegration" that is, when the thoughts of the objects must have Hamilton, been previously associated in the mind. But this is not the case with respect to the law of similarity ; for how frequently, in meeting people whom we have never seen before, we are reminded of those whom we have seen, — faces suggesting faces with which they have never previously been consociated in thought ! But no place, no date, no event, however noted, can, while viewed simply in itself, suggest am T object not heretofore connected with it in our knowledge or conception. Thus the law of resemblance, including that also of contrariety, is separated hy a radical distinction from the other suggestional relations. 184 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXIV. Secondly, since the laws of contiguity, of consecution, and of cause and effect operate only after the previous co-existence of conceptions in thought, we are led to conjecture that this co- existence ma}' be, or may indicate, the essential source of the efficacy of all these laws. This conjecture is confirmed by the fact that cases occur which cannot easily be explained by any of the laws under consideration, yet which, nevertheless, fall under the general law of simultaneity of conception. The hearing or the remembrance of a name instantly suggests the idea of the object to which it belongs, although the object and its name may have no other relation in thought than that of the sign and the thing signified. Caesar and Cicero may suggest one another because the}' were contemporaries, fellow-citizens of Rome, and actors in the same historical events ; but the names of Caesar and Cicero, respectively, suggest the thought of their owners without reference to the relations of time or place or efficiency. Another illustration of this point is found in the tendency of any part of an}' object to suggest the other parts. One precept of the art of war or of government may suggest another, sim- ply because both are members of the same whole ; indeed, as Professor Stewart says, u there is no possible relation among the objects of our Jcnoioledge which may not serve to connect them together in the mind" In order to such an association, it is needful only that the objects, as related to each other in some way, should appear together before the mind's attention. This generic law Hamilton styles the law of simultaneity ; that founded on the resemblance of objects he calls the law of affinity. Thus all the laws of suggestion are reduced to two. The further question now arises, whether these two laws may not be reduced to one, inasmuch as their operation is the same. Is there not some principle more fundamental than either lying at the basis of both ? Hamilton, answering this question in the affirmative, announces the law of redintegration; and Porter, yet more clearly than Hamilton, explains the principle of this law. We have seen that ideas, as such, do not attract each other, and that their association must result from some power or tendency resident in the substance of the mind. Now a ten- dency in the mind to redintegrate, or render again complete, any complex state formerly experienced and now renewed in part, accounts satisfactorily for all the phenomena of suggestion. Of course, in one sense, no mental state or action can be the same as one previously experienced ; a past activity is gone, and cannot literally be recalled. Yet we style things the same when they are precisely similar ; and this especially applies to Chap. XXIV.] PRIMARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 185 our successive conceptions of the same object. In this way we speak of several persons having the same idea at the same time, and of one person having the same idea at successive times ; nor can the thought be readily expressed in any other way. The redintegration, therefore, or complete repetition, of a men- tal state is, strictly speaking, the completion of a state exactly similar to one previously entertained. A tendency to such redintegration explains alike the law of simultaneity and that of affinity. With respect to the former, we know that the mind, while perceiving or considering objects, can entertain several conceptions at the same time. This is true even when the objects may be presented, not at once, but in succession. In driving rapidly through the country, we remember what we have just seen, even while noticing new objects ; and in listening to an interesting speech, the leading thoughts of it are borne in mind as the orator progresses. Thus the mind, by a power of collection, adds to the natural multipli- city of present objects. Such being the case, we may hold that a number of conceptions are being constantly conjoined in the same exercise of energy. If any one of these be renewed, the redintegrating tendency, under the action of favorable conditions, will recall the rest, or at least some of them. This same tendency explains the law of affinity, though not so obviously as the law of simultaneity. When things have any community of nature, or are alike in any respect, our concep- tions of them necessarily possess a certain common part or ele- ment. Hence, in thinking of any object, we partially reform the conception of any other similar object which we have previ- ously seen. The redintegrating power hiys hold on the part of the conception thus renewed, and by means of it recalls the whole idea. The portrait of Sir Philip Sidne}' brings to one's mind that of Queen Elizabeth, for no other reason than that Sir Philip wore ruffles. His ruffles suggest those of the queen ; these again, through the law of simultaneity, suggest her coun- tenance and entire appearance. We accept redintegration as the radical regulative principle of reproductive thought. At the same time difficulty m&y often be expected in the application of this principle to the explanation of particular in- stances. Frequently intermediate thoughts are unnoticed or unexpressed. In such cases the missing links of the associa- tion can be supplied only from conjecture. Hobbes, the great philosophical supporter of absolute monarchy, gives an illustra- tion of the natural succession of our ideas, not more remarkable than may be constantly met with in the experience of daily life, yet remarkable for this, that the inaccurate explanation of it by 186 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXIV. that distinguished man has been quoted with approval in all the leading works of mental philosophy since his time. Some one, he says, in a conversation regarding that civil war which ended in the decapitation of Charles the First, asked abruptly, " What was the value of a Roman denarius ? " Hobbes's explana- tion is that of a true absolutist. He supposes that the circum- stances of treachery and wrong attending the death of the king suggested those attending the death of our Saviour ; that these again suggested the thirty pieces of silver for which our Lord was betrayed ; and that then the thought of Roman money in general suggested the denarius. Is it not more likely that the interrogation had reference to that incident in our Saviour's life when he said, "Show me a penny" (that is, a denarius), and when he enjoined obedience to lawful rulers ? If this be so, the state of the man's mind may have been that of inquiry as to the righteousness of the king's condemnation, and not the deep disapproval which Hobbes supposes. But whichever explana- tion be adopted, either will illustrate and confirm the law already given, the radical law of suggestion, — namely, that the mind tends to redintegrate any complex state which it ma}* have already experienced, and which it ma}' have partially renewed. 4. This radical law of association brings to view the intimate connection subsisting between the powers of attention, acquisi- tion,, and suggestion. These powers are so united in operation that no modes of sequence are possible in the suggestion of ideas which have not been preceded by corresponding modes of co-existence while the ideas have been contemplated and ac- quired. The principle of redintegration is simply the specific statement that the tendency resulting from the exercise of en- erg}' in acquisition and attention is a tendency not simply to the renewal of an activity at some future time, but to the renewal of a complex activity in its several parts. It is, however, to be noted that the entire redintegration of a past mental state seldom, perhaps never, takes place. Some of the more prominent conceptions belonging to such a state may be revived, and may, before they depart, be the means of recalling others. The greater portion of our thoughts pass from us into utter oblivion ; often even circumstances or particulars which have been of special interest are not brought to mind in connection with the thought of an object or event. Conflicting suggestive tendencies are continually striving, with varying success, for the control and use of our mental energy ; in addi- tion to which the current of reproductive thought is constantly checked, interrupted, or turned into some new channel, by the stronger activity of immediate cognition. Thus the actual Chap. XXV.] SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 187 operation of the redintegrative tendency is simply to reproduce from past thought selections which find in our present thinkings the opportunity to renew old companionships. CHAFrER XXV. THE SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 1. The character of the trains of thought supplied by The laws of associationai the suggestive power differs greatly id different per- or e the e sec-' sons > anc ^ m the same person at different times. Let ondaryiaws us consider the causes of this difference. These Th S ree g prin- n ' may be indicated b}' saying that redintegration, the cipai second- primary law of association, is constantly modified by 3*I*V IrWS XT ml > *j %j secondary laws, which may be called the laws of asso- ciationai preference. We shall state and discuss the more important of these. First, then, we say that the tendency to redintegration is greater or less according to the amount of intellectual energy with which any conjunction of ideas may have been previously entertained. This law, like the one which it qualifies, operates from our prior thinkings, and may be directly inferred, as a corollary, from the law of redintegration ; for if the original energy of a mental state provides a tendency to its complete restoration, on the occasion of any allied thinking, it is easy to see that this tendency will be greater or less in proportion to the amount of energy originally exercised. That some such principle operates, is evident from certain classes of phenomena which have been carefully noted b}^ philos- ophers. For example, objects are more likely to be recalled which have occupied the mind for a considerable length of time. The traveller who beholds the wonderful cataract of Niagara, and who fears that he may never see it again, gazes long on the majestic spectacle, that he may keep a picture of it in his mind. Again, it is a trite remark that attention acids to the retentive- ness of memory, and in most persons is necessaiT to any con- siderable acquisition. In vain we read the noblest authors and hear the ablest speakers if we hear and read without attention. Interest in any object or event fixes it in our remembrance, be- cause in this way our regards have been centred upon it. So, also, repetition of a thought commits it to the memory. Few have 183 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXV. that marvellous faculty which receives and retains without an effort long discourses, and even long lists of unconnected names and dates. Most of us use the aid of repetition, as school-boys do when the}' learn rules and verses. These and similar state- ments set forth cases in which a considerable amount of energ} r is exercised, either at once or in successive efforts, upon some given combination of thoughts. # Moreover, it is evident that Bnly the more prominent thoughts in a combination recall one another, the reason being that the energy of attention has been given to them and their mutual relations. The remaining thoughts, having been' neglected, are forgotten. It is to be noticed, also, that circumstances which detract from the energy of attention lessen our ability to recall. Nervous excitement or mental agitation weakens both our first perception of objects and our subsequent recollec- tion of them ; and things which have been seen only among other interesting sights are not readily remembered, the energy of attention having been divided and diminished. Another law, subordinate to the radical principle of redin- tegration, may be thus announced : The suggestive power acts more or less readily according to the degree of the coincidence of the reproducible thought with one's permanent intellectual ten- dencies^ whether natural or acquired. No fact is more patent than tljat men from their very birth differ in their mental endow- ments and inclinations. This difference, too, increases during their subsequent lives. Not only some men are born poets, but others just as truly are born artisans, men of business, orators, philosophers, statesmen. These differences pertain, not merely to the tastes and motive dispositions of men, but to the very cast of their intellectual faculties. One essential qualification for successful business is the abilit} T to remember every neces- sary item just when it ought to be remembered. How unfitted for such a task is the poet, whose mind rejects the real and practical, and continually pursues the creations of his fantasy ! The philosopher, who seeks to know causes, effects, laws, prin- ciples, and systems, in the general, thinks of instances only as related to principles, and allows the special facts and practical details, with which the statesman deals, to slip his mind. Oc- casionally some intellect combines such contrasted characteristics as are generally separated ; then we see the man of varied and versatile talent. Ordinarily every mind has a peculiar bent of its own. These remarks maybe abundantly illustrated from the more successful works of dramatic authors ; for a certain uni- formity of character may be seen to pervade the thoughts, no less than the deeds, of the several persons in the play. When Chap. XXV.] SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 189 a permanent general tendency, whether constitutional or ac- quired, unites its power with that of a specific reproductive tendency, a special readiness is manifested for some particular line of thought. Such is the operation of this law. A third subordinate law of suggestion is that lapse of time tends to weaken the association of our ideas. We may ques- tion whether any power diminishes and is lost through the mere circumstance of its being unexercised. An ounce of gunpowder, perfectly dry, hermetically sealed, and enclosed in an impervious case, would probably display precisely the same amount of ex- plosive and expansive force at the end of one thousand years as on the day of its being put away. But in the great majority of instances, an unexercised power grows weak, probably through the abstraction of its energy in the exercise of other related powers which operate in other ways. Thus the quality of wood as fuel becomes totally lost through that gradual process of de- cay which reduces it to vegetable mould. Something like this may occur in the mind. There is no doubt that names, faces, facts, and particulars casually noticed are remembered but for a short time. After a week or a month or a year they are lost and forgotten. For a season they recur occasion all}", and are easily recalled ; but one by one they disappear and become to us as if the}' had never been. This may be accounted for, in part at least, by a kind of absorp- tion of energy from the reproductive tendencies through the use of it in the action of allied potencies, and by the comparatively low place, in the rank of recollectible ideas, to which tendencies thus weakened are reduced. They may not become wholly ex- tinguished, — a faint capability of revival may remain ; but the} T are excluded from consciousness through the activity of more powerful competitors. Whether any acquisition of the mind can be so utterly lost as not to be reproducible in another state of being, and under specially favorable and stimulating condi- tions, is a question upon which we shall not now enter. a notable ^ e miis ^ however, notice an exception to the law exception to that reproductive tendencies grow weak through lapse pYained t>y" of time. Aged persons generally remember the events o'eiStion^of ancl scenes of their early days more vividly than those others 10 * of their subsequent life, or those even of their latest experience. The explanation of this phenomenon depends on the principle that one law of suggestion may be counteracted by another. We have already seen how earnestness of attention, frequency of repetition, and depth of interest, by increasing the amount of intellectual energy originally exercised, create a strong reproductive tendency. 190 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXV. The operation of these causes in early life is beautifully de- lineated by President Porter. He says: "The objects and events of childhood were contemplated b}- the mind at first with an almost exclusive and absorbing attention. The few persons that stand out in so bold relief from the background of life when life is reviewed, filled its entire foreground when life was all in the future ; for they were the only persons with whom the child was brought in contact. The memorable occurrences of childhood were the absorbing subjects of thought for days before they occurred. They were often reviewed with fond reflection after they were past. The learning to count ten or one hundred, the wearing of a certain dress, the beginning of school life, the long-anticipated, the often reviewed and recited visit to some relative, the first considerable journey, the first part}', the first composition, were most important occurrences in their time, and spread themselves over a large portion of the horizon of the infant life." Such is a true picture of the activity of the intellect in the freshness of its 3'outh. The causes productive of this ac- tivity are wanting in later life, and particularly in old age. Even in business men often give just so much consideration to trans- actions as may be necessary, and then immediately dismiss them, that other affairs ma} T likewise receive attention. It is not to be wondered at that earlier impressions maintain a pre-eminence amid gthers which, though recent, are inherently so weak. Besides, here, as in most cases of ascendency, the more potent energies renew and prolong their reign. While past events themselves may be long separated from us, those thoughts by which we recall them ma} T have been entertained frequently throughout life ; so that the strength of a present recollection maj T be in part derived from an experience not very distant. This cause of prolonged memory operates not only in regard to the events of childhood and youth, but also in regard to any events which may deeply interest us and which we may after- wards recall. The aged soldier who has participated in hard- fought battles easily recounts the incidents which he has described so often. He " Shoulders his crutch, and shows how fields were won." The retired lawyer gives the details of some great contest in which, } T ears ago, he conquered a proud place in his profession. The statesman sets forth accurately that political situation in which he first rose to eminence, or in which, in some signal way, he was enabled to serve his country. We have now mentioned three general laws modifying the exercise of the associative power. They operate, respectively, Chap. XXV.] SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 191 from previous energy of thought, from permanent intellectual habits, and from the gradual abstraction of energy through the operation of tendencies allied to those thus weakened. Other modifying laws beside these might be named. For example, it is evident that suggestion, in common with our other mental powers, exhibits various degrees of vigor or of debility, as a result of health or sickness, rest or fatigue, and other physical conditions, which affect the life of the human spirit. There maj, in fact, be as man} 7 subordinate laws as there are general causes to modify the operation of the fun- damental law. But the principal laws are those which we have discussed. _ , . 2. When we remember that the associative prin- The law of . x . habit in its ciple results from a prior exercise of energy, and is a Se at sugges- tendency to the repetition of a prior act, it is evident tion of that the law of redintegration is intimately related The opinions to the law of habit. Some difference has existed in st Rei 1 and regard to the precise nature of this relation. Reid re- marks : "I believe that the original principles of the mind, of which we can give no account but that such is our con- stitution, are more in number than is commonh' thought. But we ought not to multiply them without necessity. That trains of thinking which, by frequent repetition, have become familiar should spontaneously offer themselves to our fancy seems to require no other original quality but the power of habit." On the other hand, Stewart, having quoted these words, sa} 7 s : " With this observation I cannot agree, because I think it more philosophical to resolve the power of habit into the association of ideas than to resolve the association of ideas into habit." This opinion of Stewart is untenable. Even allowing, what appears likely, that eveiy habit contains an intellectual element, and that this originates from the repetition of conceptions through the action of the suggestive power, it is clear that all habits, save those which regulate thought only, include addi- tional elements which cannot be accounted for by the association of ideas. Take habits of anger or of calmness, or those of de- cision or of irresolution, of perseverance or of endurance. While these involve certain recurring modes of thought, do they not consist yet more in certain activities of spirit which, through exercise, have grown into strong motivities? As to Reid's statement, we allow that the. spontaneous return of ''trains of thought which, b} r frequent repetition, have be- come familiar," may be regarded as the manifestation of a habit formed by the intellect. Yet we would rather say that habit and the suggestion of ideas originate in the same general prin- 192 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXV. ciple of psychical life than that this suggestion is simply one mode of habit. The common principle at the basis of both is that every spiritual exercise leaves in the soul a tendency to its repetition. This tendency is produced, as we especially perceive in many associations of thought, even when the exercise may have been only once experienced. But we do not call such a tendency a habit, unless it both result from many similar ex- periences, and is causative of frequent repetitions. Suggestion cannot be resolved into habit, nor habit into suggestion ; but they are closely related through a common origin. The term -^ et us dwell f° r a moment on the term "habit," "iiabit" which, because of its various meanings, may be the ground of some confusion. This word is the exact Latin equivalent of the Greek e£i• sides in each of them. Substance and power must be dis- tinctly considered, though all power dwells either in mind or in matter, the only two kinds of substance known to us. Action is to be con- sidered to the exclusion of the change which it produces, or tends to produce. And relation, — or, as we would prefer to say, relatedness or relationship, — which has no independent existence, must yet be inde- pendently regarded. Each of the foregoing elements, as distinctly conceived of, is a formal entity; thought of simply as entity and with- out reference to its distinctive character, it might be called a material entity. When, thinking of them successively, we say, " This is space, this is time, that is power, that is action," we identify each as a formal, with itself as a material, entity. Thus we define these entities to ourselves, or rather exercise determinate ideas about them. The foregoing enumeration supposes an analysis of all objects into their ultimate elemental entities, and is the product of purely metaphysical thought. It presents seven fundamenta and the relations arising out of them and existing among them. Another logical division of entity, with another list of the elements of existence, results from an an- alysis of things not so searching as that out of which the enumeration just given originates. This second division is conditioned on the pecu- liar closeness with which quantity inheres in each of the other catego- ries, so that it is difficult for us to think of them deliberately without thinking of them as having quantity, as being quanta. The enumer- ation of which we now speak omits quantity as a separate element, but con- siders each of the remaining members of the first enumeration as having quantity united with it. We have, therefore, as the quantitative elements of entity, space, time, substance, power, action, change, and relation. For relations admit of addition and subtraction, and of the more and the less, as well as the other forms of entity. Elements being quanta, or quantities, the relations of quantity exist between them, as do also other relations which arise among them by reason of their own proper natures. Materia ^. Comparing the quantitative elements of entity as to prima and the respects wherein they agree, we find them alike in being seewnda. conceivable as matter and as having quantity; but, aside Chap XXVII.J ABSTRACTION AND CONCEPTION. 211 from quantity, they differ totally as to form. Now since entity, as characterized only by quantity, resembles entity as mere matter in being a constant factor in thought, and in being variously character- izable by the possession of form (for matter possesses form, though matter as such is not conceived of as possessing it), this community of nature or character may be indicated by calling entity merely as matter materia prima, and entity merely as having quantity materia secunda. In the same maimer we might speak of a forma prima and a forma secunda, the one of these consisting of elements as determined by the absolutely ultimate analysis of being, and the other of elements as presented by the quantitative analysis. At present we call attention to the fact that the idea of quantity has a special tendency to unite with our more indefinite conceptions ; hence the use of such words as " some- thing," "anything," "any one," and hence the derivation of the indefinite article from the numeral one ; and we remark further, that for the analysis of ordinary thought materia secunda alone may be regarded as matter. The logical conception of substance — that is, of a substantum, or of the subject of attributes — differs but little from that of materia se- cunda, of matter as having quantity. But entity, as substance, though regarded without any specific conception of form, is conceived of with a decided reference to its having some form; as is indicated by the construction of the word " substance." This is not the case with the notion of entity as matter. Substance, also, is generally conceived of as affected by numerical difference ; for we speak more frequently of a substance, or of substances, than we do of substance simply. Matter, on the other hand, is more commonly spoken of in the general than as individual. Yet we may, in metaphysics as well as elsewhere, speak of "a matter" or of "matters;" and "a thing," using this term in its widest and most indefinite sense, may be denned as " a matter," or " a material entity." Attribute, m From the nature of the case, form cannot be separated difference, from substance except in thought; by thought also it is tic? r qulh"y^ un it e(i — tnat is > regarded as one — with substance. This and accident union, as we shall see, is mainly identification, — the iden- defined. tification of a thing, as thought of in one way, with itself as thought of in another. Form considered as thus united to sub- stance is _ called attribute. Regarded as the basis of the diversity of entities, it is named difference. As marking entity, so that objects are seen as having natures of their own, it is character, or characteris- tic. Simply as revealing the nature of an entity, it is denominated quality; this is its most radical and important aspect. And sometimes it is styled accident, this term being then employed in a wide meta- physical sense to signify that which in thought falls into union with matter. It is evident that the several quantitative elements of any entity may be regarded as substanta. Each is a distinguishable quantum, and each has form and attributes of its own. Generally, however, when we conceive of a thing as a substantum — that is, as a something, dis- tinguished from the qualities belonging to it — we are thinking, not 212 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVII. of a single element, but of a combination of elements. The question then arises, Under what conditions is an assemblage of elements re- garded as constituting a substantum, and as having the form or the attributes which we ascribe to it as such? We answer that this takes place whenever that assemblage, as constituting a metaphysical whole, is subjected to certain modes of conception and of abstraction, which we are now prepared easily to understand. Substance ^ metaphysical whole exists whenever a number of the and attribute elements of entity, conceived either absolutely or quantita- defined in tively, are united in some system of relations. As con- to the meta- structed out of elements absolutely ultimate, such a whole pbysical may be regarded both as being matter and as being form, pai?s ea The tS tD ^ s ^ atter including quantity as one of its elements; or if conception the object should be regarded only with that thoroughly of them de- differentiating thought in which every element is distinctly ultimate conceived, and not also with that thought which regards metaphysical entity aside from differences, it would be a whole of form analysis. only. With either of these wholes, whose elements are absolutely ultimate, ordinary logical processes are not directly con- cerned. They have to do rather with that metaphysical whole which is constructed out of quantitative elements, and not out of the abso- lutely ultimate elements of being, and which therefore may be con- ceived of as composed of a number of substanta, each element being a substantum. Such a wbole, in its relation to our conception of it, may be said to include three sets of objects: for it contains, first, the several elemental substanta, or quanta, by whose union it is made to be a whol$; secondly, the forms, or differences, belonging to these sub- stanta severally; and, thirdly, the various relations whereby the sub- stanta with their attributes are bound together into a system. Directing our attention specially to these relations, we see that they themselves may be regarded as substanta, — that is, as being quanta, and as having form, or difference. Adding them in thought, so far as they are quanta, to the quanta between which they exist, and re- jecting all thought of internal difference among parts or elements, we are enabled to think of the whole object as one distinguishable quantum of entity, as a substantum ; while our formal conceptions of the several elemental parts, including the relations and excluding quantity, also unite themselves together and become the formal, or attributal, conception of the whole. According to the first of these modes of thought, we regard the object — say a ball — as a certain something ; according to the latter, we think of all its properties, — its roundness, hardness, size, weight, color, — in short, of its entire character. Such seems to be a satisfactory account of the formation and nature of the ideas of substance and attribute. At the same time, that gen- eral act of conception whereby the several quantitative parts are con- ceived of as constituting only one quantum, or substantum, need not, we suppose, be preceded by specific and distinct conceptions of those parts severally. We may concede to the mind the power of perceiv- ing a complex whole, as such, immediately. But probably that ab- straction by which the non-quantitative parts or elements are separated from the substantum, and thereupon and in their relation to it re- Chap. XX VII] ABSTRACTION AND CONCEPTION. 213 garded as qualities or attributes, is conditioned upon quantitative con- ceptions of the parts. Be this as it may, it is clear that to conceive of a substantum, or thing, is to conceive of a metaphysical whole, as such, but ivith neglect of any distinction of parts ; while to conceive of attributes is to conceive of elemental parts in their relation to the whole, but with neglect of that element of quantity which is considered once for all in the substantum. Thus both conceptions — that of substance and that of attribute — involve that extreme exercise of the analytic power of the mind whereby quantity, which is so intimately united with all other forms of entity, is yet distinguished from them. Metaphysical That analysis by which an object is more or less resolved and logical into the ultimate elements of its being (whether these be analysis. considered absolutely or as quantified) may be styled meta- physical analysis. By means of it the mind conceives more clearly of the nature of things, and advances in scientific knowledge. The other analysis — into substance (or subject, or thing, or substantum), and into form (or character, attribute, or quality) — we call logical. It is employed to facilitate the comparisons and reasonings of the mind. The first analysis refers solely to the nature of things, — it is objec- tive ; the second regards things in their relation to two opposite modes of thought, according to one of which an entity is form, or difference, while according to the other it is matter, or substantum. Both analyses pertain to the metaphysical, or elemental, whole. 5. When the different elements of being are considered in ?elation y as nd t nelr use as attributes, two solicit attention because of diffi- attributes. culty likely to arise in respect to them. These are quantity Difficulties and relation. As already explained, quantity is attributed Quantity, to an object somewhat differently from the other elements, quality, and Each of these, ordinarily, is added in thought to the quan- contrasted ien tity which a substantum is already conceived of as having. But quantity itself must either be attributed to entity as materia prima, the most indefinite it of language ; or if asserted of a substantum, or thing, as ordinarily conceived, must be predicated ana- lytically, and not synthetically. As when we say, " Man is an ani- mal," we add nothing to "man," but only indicate a part of his nature; so in saving, "A thing is a quantum," or "Everything is something," or "Everything has quantity," we do not enlarge, but explicate, our thought. But it is to be noticed that when definite conceptions of quantity are applied to a substantum, such attribution is not that of quantity simply, but that of certain relations or relation- ships between objects, growing out of their character as quanta. In saying, " The mountain is high," " The horse is strong," " The man is rich," the adjectives express not so much quantity as quantitative relations — relations of degree — determined by the comparison of objects as containing height, or strength, or the possession of means. Such a predication of relations is a true mental addition to a substan- tum as simply having quantity. Relations differ strikingly from every other class of elemental enti- ties. They excel all other elements in the variety and delicacy of their forms; and they have a peculiar dependence on the other elements for their own existence. The most radical relation of all is that of other- 214 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVII. ness, or numerical difference ; for it is the condition of all others. Iden- tity is not properly a relation, but simply the absence, or non-existence, of otherness as characterizing an entity. We often say that relations exist between two or more objects; and relations have been styled in- termediate entities. But this expression is not literally true. Strictly speaking, nothing exists between objects as related, but every relation consists of parts, one of which resides in each of the objects. For this reason the term "relationship " is preferable to " relation " as a name for the ultimate element of entity, a relation being composed of inseparably co-existent relationships. A cause has a relationship to the effect, and the effect has a relationship to the cause ; and these two relationships together make up the relation of cause and effect. They arise immediately from the nature of action and from that of change. Action and change are the fundamenta of the relation. The peculiarity of relationship as an attribute, however, does not spring directly from any of the foregoing considerations, but from its use in connection with the metaphysical whole. Every such whole consists in part of relations. So far as this is the case, relations, whether they be between and among the parts or be externally di- rected, are attributes just in the same way that the other elements are, and are so used by the mind. But when a whole is regarded as com- plete in itself, and as existing besides in a relation to some other whole, — for example, a dollar as in one's pocket-book, — in this case relation is not a quality, or attribute, but a predicate-object, and what we commonly mean when we speak of a relation. Thus relationship per- forms a double office in respect to substanta, and may be viewed in two lights, in one of which it may be a part or attribute or quality of the oBject, and in the other of which it may be distinguished from the object as being no part of it. No other element of entity has this double office in the same subtile way that relationship has; for none is ever a predicate-object save as it may be united by some relation to a whole, which it thereby qualifies. To illustrate: the being a biped, or bipedality, is an attribute of man, though it involves the relation of legs to the rest of the body, and the relation of number expressed by the word " two," which is a particular instance of the relations of quantity, — that, namely, be- tween two quanta of the same kind and one taken as a unit of measure. So " rich " indicates attribute, though it is essentially the relationship of a man to a large property of which he is owner. On the other hand, when we say, " The king is in the carriage," the relation ex- pressed by "in the carriage "is no part of the king, but only some- thing predicated of him. Thus relation, though sometimes an attribute or quality, may often be contrasted with attribute, and generally is so con- trasted save when a whole is considered analytically ; then relation and attribute are often found to be identical. Objectively speaking, the predication of it as an attribute is identificative; it identifies relation as form with part of the matter of the substantum. But the predica- tion of it as a ?°elation — that is, a relation outside of the whole — is additive. Relationship, as part of a whole, is so united in our concep- tion with other more prominent parts that its proper character is easily overlooked or misconstrued. It generally enters our thought Chap. XXVIII.] GENERALIZATION. 215 only as a part of some attribute or quality. But it receives its proper name when considered by itself, which especially happens when it is expressed by a preposition. Thus the notion of "neighbor " includes a relation as an attribute, or as part of a complex attribute ; while the expression, "He dwells (or is a dweller) near me," more distinctly sets forth the relation as such. The foregoing remarks indicate how quantity, quality, and relation are contrasted in our minds, in their use as things predicable, and how, at the same time, there are cases in which both quantity and relation must be regarded as qualities or attributes. They show also how the distinction, or contrast, with which we ordinarily view these predi- cates refers not so much to their own nature as to the mode of our thinkings. CHAPTER XXVIII. GENERALIZATION. „ 1. Generalization is a process allied to abstrac- tion related tion, and might be considered a species of it. Gen- tion bSt §en- eralization includes what we ordinarily mean by erai notions abstraction, together with a further process radically of the same nature. Each of these constituent pro- cesses involves the retention of part of a thought and the rejection of the rest. But the part specially rejected when we generalize is quite different in its signification or objective force from that rejected when we merely abstract ; and the rejection of it is attended with peculiar results. For these reasons it is well to consider abstraction and generalization as distinct pro- cesses. Of all the secondary powers of mind, generalization has the most immediate bearing upon the philosophy of the ascertain- ment of truth and the construction of science. An understand- ing of the doctrine of the general notion is the key which unlocks the principal mysteries of logic ; and it is the explana- tion of the fundamental laws and forms of scientific thought. General ideas are those which can be applied to any one of a class of similar objects simply on account of their similarity. The notions "horse," "man," "strong," "wise," "walk," "think," "certainly," "quickly," "homeliness," "beauty," "fear," "force," and the immense majority of conceptions ex- pressed by single words, are general. We have general notions, not only of logical substances, or substanta, but also of attri- butes and of adjuncts and of abstract substanta. Combinations 216 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVIII. of thought and statements of truth may also be general, — as when we say T , " The strength of the horse," " The value of money," or "The wise man speaks wisely," "The rose is the most beautiful of flowers." Every mode of conception and every construction of ideas setting forth the nature of things may as- sume the form of generality. But as the character of attributes, adjuncts, and predications is determined by that of the substanta to which the}' are attached, our discussion must mainly concern the generalization of substantal notions. The singular Ideas which correspond to one object only, and can- tined 11 Shi- no ^ ^e a PP ne( ^ to different similar objects, are styled guiarsdis- singular, as having that in their signification which from hull? i s wholly singular or peculiar. When some singular viduais. object is thought of simply as a singular object of a certain kind, we call it an individual ; and our conception of. it ma} T be styled an individualized conception. If, instead of speaking of man in general, we should mention some one person as "the man" with whom we had some transaction, or as " a man" of whom we heard once, the expressions "the man" and " a man " would stand for individualized notions. Such notions result ordinarily from applying a general notion to an individual object ; in other words, from thinking of the object b}' means of a general notion which corresponds to it. A1J. singular objects are called individuals, because they T cannot be divided into members in the same way that classes of similars can. When, however, the singular is contrasted with the indi- vidual, the latter signifies a singular object considered with reference to some general character, while the former sets forth the singular object with reference to its own peculiar characteris- tics. Caesar, simply as a man, is an individual object ; Caesar, as Caesar, is a singular object. In this wa} T individual — or, more properly, individualized — notions are contrasted with singular. But without this contrast, expressed or understood, the singular comprehends both the singular and the individual. General notions are expressed b} T the common noun used without addition, as " horse ;" individualized notions, b}' this noun accompanied or affected by an individualizing addition or adjunct, — for example, "a horse," "horses," "this horse," " these horses ; " singular notions, either by proper names or by the common noun with some singularizing adjunct, as " The king" (that is, the definitely known king), or "Alexander," or " Alexander's horse," or " Bucephalus." The terms "universal" and "general" are opposed to the terms " individual " and " singular." Either of the former may be opposed to either of the latter. But the term " universal '" is Chap. XXVIIL] GENERALIZATION. 217 more frequently used when the contrast is with singular or indi- vidual objects, and the term " general " when the contrast is with singular or individual conceptions. " Man " stands for an " universal" object, and expresses a general notion. The word "general," being derived from the Latin gemis (yeVo?, a kind), signifies what belongs to every one of a given kind of objects. This, its original and philosophic meaning, is to be distinguished from that signification in common use, according to which what- ever is true for the most part of some class of things is called general ; as when we say, " Savages generally (that is, for the most part) are treacherous." Modes of ex- 2. A general notion ma} 7 either be conceived simply, pressing gen- or it may be conceived as contrasted with other gen- eral notions. , .. ■> j /j •, i -j. ,. • 1 • Proper and eral notions, and as definitely distinguishing some improper. given kind of thing. The proper expression of it when conceived in the former wa}' is the common noun with- out the definite article or other addition. "Man," "gold," "virtue," " heat," "malleability," are words each of which of itself expresses a general idea in its purest or simplest form. The expression for a general notion, conceived as having a dis- tinguishing power, is the common noun with the definite article prefixed. Such designations as "The horse," "The dance," " The church," " The state," "The pulpit/' " The press," " The theatre," and many like them, may serve as illustrations. The significance of the article when thus emplo} r ed is quite different from its force in pointing out an individual either as definitely known or as definitely related. While it attaches itself to gen- eral ideas, it does not form any part of them. It is especially employed when the mind opposes some one kind of thing to others of the same generic nature. When we speak in the gen- eral of " the pulpit," we mean that agency of public impression as contrasted with the press, the theatre, and other agencies. " The dance " is thought of as an amusement and in contrast with other amusements. As every general notion may be con- ceived either per se or as distinct from other notions, a choice becomes possible between the defined and the undefined modes of thought and of expression. Some languages, as the French and the Greek, prefer the defined ; others, as the Latin and the English, the undefined. German occupies a middle ground. These differences arise from peculiarities in the mental habits of each people. Beside the two proper modes of expressing general notions, several secondary, or improper, modes are of frequent use. The tendency of the mind is to avoid the general and abstract, because removed from a view of things as actually existent, and 218 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVIII. to employ modes of thought in which the general conception is presented rather by implication than expressty. For example, individualized notions are employed instead of general ideas ; and this sometimes in the singular number and sometimes in the plural. We say, indifferently, "Man must die," " A man must die," and " Men must die ; " or " The horse is a noble animal," " A horse is a noble animal," and " Horses are noble animals." In each case we utter and intend to utter, a general truth. But when using the indefinite terms " a man " and " men," we do not present the truth in its naked generalit}' ; we give an immediate inference from the general truth, from which inference, also, that truth itself may be immediately in- ferred. Hence such statements themselves are often styled general. When the indefinite article occurs in them, it differs from the singular number of the adjective "an}'" only in being a less emphatic expression of individual indefiniteness ; the plural of nouns signifies that what is said applies to any number or to all of the things of the kind named. What is necessarily true of any kind of thing is true of any individual or of any number of individuals of the kind ; and what is necessarily true of an} T individual or any number of individuals of a given kind, simply as being of that kind, must be true of that kind of thing in general. Another secondar}' and inferential mode of expression is found in universal statements respecting the members of the logical class. All the objects to which the same general notion is appli- cable ma}' be considered as constituting one class. Whatever is true of that general thing, or that kind of thing, which the notion represents, must be true of every member of the class and of all the members individually ; and whatever is true of every member of a logical class, or of all the members individu- ally, simply as being things of a certain kind, must be true of that kind of thing in general. Hence we have such statements as "Every law-breaker should be punished," "All judges should be just;" in which class- conceptions take the place of the general notion. Limited sen- Sometimes a statement in one of the forms of uni- eraiity, state- versality which we have now considered, evidently is mentsof. nQt m era xiy true. Should we say, "The horse is a useful animal," it might be objected that some horses are utterly vicious, wild, and unusable. The fact is that such statements are made with an understanding which limits their application ; they express, therefore, what is universally true within a given sphere. Horses are useful always under the circumstances in Chap. XXVIIL] GENERALIZATION. 219 which the speaker conceives of them, — that is, as ordinarily to be met with and observed. These statements of limited univer- sality ma}' always take this form, ''Things to be supposed being supposed, such and such is universally the case." We say, " The grape is a luscious fruit," — that is, of course, always when it is ripe and in good condition. Because such expressions, when interpreted without an interpreter, when considered as unquali- fied, though they need qualification, are not strictly universal, the term ''general" came to signify that which happens for the most part. Here, also, we must allow, what shall be seen more clearly hereafter, that the general notion — that is, the notion expressed by the common noun — does not always or necessarily involve the universality of the predication ofichich it may be the subject. This really results from the necessitudinal character which ordinarily belongs to such predications. The distinction between general and individual, or singular, ideas, even when the latter are used in indefinite or universal expressions, as equivalent to the former, is essential to an un- derstanding of the nature of the general notion. This distinc- tion is recognized in the forms of language ; but the nature of it will become more apparent if we consider that process, called generalization, by which the mind produces its general thoughts or notions. The process 3. This process, as it ordinarily takes place, is often of generaii- and correctly described as follows : — scribed and First, a number of objects are perceived to be similar defined. ^ Q eac h other in one or more respects. Ten, fifteen, twenty, or any number of cherries, are seen to be alike in their form, size, color, taste, contents, origin, and use. That act of the mind whereby its thought is intention all}' exercised regard- ing objects, in order to discern their points of likeness and of unlikeness, is called comparison. Secondly, the perception of similarity obtained by comparison is followed by an act of abstraction, whereby the objects com- pared are thought of only as to those characteristics or parts in which they are alike, all other characteristics being rejected from consideration. We have now still as many ideas as there are objects, but every idea is precisely similar to every other. Our conceptions, at this stage, of fifteen or twenty cherries are very similar to what our perceptions of the same number of cherries would be, were the cherries arranged in a row at such a distance from us that no difference in size, or appearance, or any other particular, could be noticed between any two of them. Thirdly, some one individual object, selected at random, is thought of in the special or abstract view taken of it ; or all the 220 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVIII. individuals are thus thought of at once, under one plural con- ception, — that is, we think of one particular cherry as this or that cherry simply, or of all the cherries, collectively, as those cherries. For a plural conception, in which we think at once of man}' things as many, is not composed of many unital con- ceptions, though it may be derived from them, but is the same as a unital — that is, a grammatically singular — concep- tion, save only that the element of plurality has displaced that of unity. Fourthly, the mind, taking either of these last-described con- ceptions, rejects from it the element of individuality. Thereupon we think, not of any individual cherry, nor of anj 7 number of individual cherries, but simply of u cherry," or of " the cheny." • The first two of the foregoing steps, and likewise point in gen- the last two, may, if we please, be naturally regarded thfspedfic' as one - Generalization, therefore, may be described difference of as containing two successive parts or stages, in the t is process. ^^ o ^ W \ 1 [ G \ 1 we consider a number of similar objects abstractly and only so far as they are similar, and in the second of which we discard the element of individuality from the con- ception either of one object or of several. This second step is the essential part, the specific difference, of the process of generalization ; it may be illustrated by a mental experiment. Let us suppose ourselves to inspect, suc- cessively, a number of ships at a seaport town, so as to have a correct and distinct idea of each. Let us imagine, also, the whole fleet to have set out to sea, and to have attained a distance at which each ship can be seen plainly, yet not with sufficient distinctness to be recognized by means of its own peculiarities. Our perception of the vessels is now quite undefined as compared with the views obtained in the harbor, yet it is still a perception of individuals ; we see this ship, that ship, and the other, sailing before us. Now, shutting our eyes, let us take the thought of any one ship, or of several, and let us eliminate from this con- ception all reference to individual difference, and all thought of the fact that individual peculiarities must and do exist. There remains the general notion, " ship," or " the ship." The thought I* 1 order to an understanding of the process of of similarity generalization, certain points are worthy of special Tl Of" 1 TIP 1 11 fl P(l in the gen- consideration. In the first place, let us notice that erai notion. ^ ie thought of the similarity found to exist between the objects compared does not enter into the general conception as a component part of it. The general notion includes the respects wherein the objects are alike, but not their likeness. Similarity furnishes a rule to be observed by the mind in the Chap. XXVIIL] GENERALIZATION. 221 process of abstraction, but is not itself one of the elements ab- stracted. After the completion of the generalization, all thought of the comparison ma}' be dismissed, just as a scaffolding no longer needed may be taken away. This introduces the remark that generalization may tionpossfbie take place without any comparison at all, and from without com- t] ie consideration of only one object. It is only ne- pai'lSOU. ill • 1 n -n cessaiy that we should conceive, more or less fully, of the object, and then reject from our conception the thought of individual difference or peculiarity ; for in this way we can obtain a notion applicable to any other object which may be similar to the one considered so far as it is considered, — that is, a general notion. A geologist finding a specimen of rock such as he has never seen before, may truly say that he has discovered a new kind of stone. Commonly, however, the com- parison of individuals is requisite for the exact establishment and definition of any existing kind of thing. Some writers, referring to the exclusion of all thought think the of individual difference, have said that in generaliza- tiie same S or ^ion we think the similar as the same and the many the many as as the one. Such language is not strictly true, and is calculated to perplex. There is a sense in which it ma}' be accepted ; but, taken literally, it suggests either that a number of different things can be condensed together so as to form one of their own number, or that, against reason and fact, we can think of them as if they could. The mind in general- ization does not judge and accept the many and different to be one and the same, but rather rejects all thought of their number and difference, and no longer thinks of them, or of any one indi- vidual object ; but thinks that one thought which remains, and which, in a certain peculiar, secondary, and figurative sense, may be said to have an object — one object — of its own. Lastly, we must qualify the statement that the final step in generalization is to reject all thought of individual, or numerical, difference. This is an essential step, but it is not always the final one ; for we generalize not only from individuals but from kinds, and thus one general notion may be formed from others more specific. From horse, dog, cat, fox, lion, tiger, and other four- footed beasts we may form the conception "quadruped." In such a case we discard only formal, or specific, not individual, or nu- merical, difference ; the individual difference has been eliminated already. This generalization from kinds is sometimes distin- guished as generification. We may indeed form generic notions from those of specific classes of things, and in that case, of course, we discard the 222 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVIII. individuality ascribed to classes and their members ; but this is not that generifi cation to which we refer, and which generalizes directly from general notions. 4. Having considered general notions, and -the object^ oruni- mode of their formation, we proceed to inquire con- versai. is cerning general objects, — or universals, as they have mentioned, been st3'led b} T philosophers. The true doctrine con- reaUxlst? cerning universals is not only interesting in itself, but ence. Anaio-also contributes greatly to an understanding of the Meal object, nature and functions of the general notion. "? m o? qU d d First of all, it is to be premised that in some sense est! singu- or other we may speak of general objects. We con- Boethhw. stantly mention such things. We say, ' ' Man is mor- tal," " War is a dreadful evil," " Virtue is the highest good," " The pulpit and the press are potent in a free country," " The human soul is godlike and immortal." It would be folly to say that those who make such statements are not, in any sense, thinking about anything, — that their conceptions do not, in any sense, have objects. Several theories have been held in regard to the significance of that thought which is expressed by general language ; but one of two views must be correct. Either it sets forth objects which exist as truly and literally as the mind itself does which thinks of them, and as those individuals do which the mind perceives and knows to exist ; or it may be held that our thoughts and statements, as about universals, are secondary modes of mental action, based upon, and referring to, our thinkings concerning real objects, yet not of themselves setting forth any reality. In other words, general ma}* be sup- posed to be analogous with ideal objects, of which we speak as if they really existed and acted and were related variously, when in truth the} r do not exist at all. Of these contradictory views the second alone, in whatever light the matter may be regarded, is worthy of acceptance. The universal ^ ov -> m ' st °f a ^ 1 5 to suppose the realit}' of universals an impossible would lead to great absurdities. Take any general entity. object, as '• animal." We ask, Where, when, and how long has it existed? Who ever saw it? What is its position as a part of the universe of actual being? Clearly no place or period can be assigned to it unless we say that it exists ever}-- where and always ; for whatever exists at any particular place or for any given time is and must be an individual object. But what absurdity to think of an eternal and omnipresent animal ! Nor does it help the matter to say that the general animal ex- ists in even* individual animal. For we can conceive of animals that have no existence, such as unicorns, winged horses, great Chap. XXVIIL] GENERALIZATION. 223 sea-serpents ; yet such animals would include the universal. And further, although every animal has that in it which corresponds to the general object, and ma}' be conceived of by the application of a general notion, still, properly speaking, it does not include the universal, but only that which corresponds to it. Ever} 7 part of the nature of any individual animal is individual, not universal ; and the general notion when applied to any individual or to any number of individuals, receives an addition whereby it ceases to be a general, and becomes an individualized, notion. Moreover, the general object " animal," if it exist, is but one object ; but if it exist in many different animals, it must do so as the many and the different. And so a case arises in which many and different objects are, without any change of meaning, one and the same object. This is an impossibility. Hence those authors who say that in generalization we think of the many as the one, of the similars as the same, swerve from literality. Their language resembles that employed when we speak of cer- tain things which have similar natures as having one common nature / just as if a nature were like a piece of land, or other property, which several persons may own in common. The only literal truth in the case is that the objects, by reason of their similarity, are related to one and the same notion^ so that it may be applied to each of them, and is therefore a common or general notion. The true ^ n ^ ne nex t place, the genesis and essential nature character of of the general notion, and the manner of its employ- shown from ment by the mind, show how it comes to be formed the genesis anc | use( } w [thout having any object of its own. Gen- iinru re fin < J. useoftLegen-eral notions are a secondary mode of thought, and erai notion. are c i er i V ed j a process of abstraction from indi- vidual or singular conceptions. This derivation, as that also of generic from specific conceptions, can often be actually traced, and always satisfactorily accounts for the origin of the notion. Many, both in ancient and in modern times, have taught that some of our abstract ideas, and particularly those of a moral na- ture, are innate, and born with the soul ; and the} 7 have given the mind a power of perceiving certain kinds of general truth by " the immediate intuition of the reason." It is sufficient to say that such doctrines have almost entirely disappeared, as the progress of philosophic investigation has shown them to be unnecessary and unfounded. The power, first of perceiving individual facts and objects, and then of forming from these perceptions general truths and notions, is, we believe, inborn ; but the development and exercise of this power do not presup- pose the actuality of any general object. 224 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXVIII. Moreover, not only are general notions derived from nate cinuac- perceptions and conceptions of individual objects ; they erafnotiof f n " a ^ so are usec ^ exclusiveh' with reference to individuals : and its essen- their whole value and force lies in their applicability. tia na ure. j^ . g ^ means f these notions that we are informed regarding the nature of individual things. The general concep- tion being applied to one or more objects, we understand what it or the} 7 may be ; we can say, " It is an animal," or " They are animals." Then the general notion enables us to form judgments regard- ing individuals, because whatever is true of the universal, by reason of some necessity which attaches to it, must be true of every corresponding individual. The truth that " animal life is supported bj' food " is valuable, because we may infer from it im- mediately that this or that animal, these or those, some or any or all, animals, live by means of food. The general, or general- ized, judgment is simply an instrumental and intermediate state of mind which frequently intervenes between the perception of necessity in some individual case or cases, and the assertion of necessit}' in some other similar individual case or cases. Finally, the general notion is used in indeterminate thought ; and in this, especially, its character, as wholly subordinate to the individual conception, is strikingly manifest. For the universal is often made the subject of statements which , cannot be re- garded even as propositions of limited or conditioned generality. We can saj-, " The trotting horse has now attained the speed of a mile in less than two minutes and a quarter," or, to use a nobler illustration, " Man measures the weight of the sun, and the distance of star from star." In such statements as these, it is equally evident that the subject is an universal, and that it is not conceived of as having a separate existence of its own. The facts presented concern only certain individuals of a class ; it would be absurd to assert them of. any separate and universal entity. Predications like the foregoing, which are not uncommon, throw light on the true nature and significance of the general notion. The}' show that it is an abstract and indeterminate mode of thought which the mind alwaj^s refers or applies to individuals more or less immediately, and which always has universal applicability, yet is not alwaj-s used as having it. For not every trotter attains the speed mentioned, nor is ever} 7 man an astronomer. From all of which we gather that the character and name of universal, or general, are derived rather from the chief property and principal employment of the notion than from its essential nature. Chap. XXIX.] REALISM AND NOMINALISM. 225 When we say, " Man calculates eclipses," the term " man" expresses what we commonly mean by a general idea ; jet in this statement the idea is not general or universal, but only ab- stract and indeterminate. Of itself it does not include reference to the many or to the few ; it simply presents its own contents. We are told that human beings calculate eclipses ; whether many or few of them do so, or even only one, is no necessary implication of the general notion. In view, therefore, of the origin, use, and radical nature of general conceptions, we conclude that there are no general ob- jects to correspond with them, that universals, as such, are unreal entities, and that in thinking as if of them, we do not think of realities at all, but only in a way similar to, and correspondent with, our conception of real objects. In accordance with this we find that men, in ordinary speech, never make independent mention of general objects, or universals, as if they were a dis- tinct class of entities, but only use terms setting forth indeter- minate notions which may be applied to individual objects. CHAPTER XXIX. EEALISM AND NOMINALISM. 1. The discussion of the general notion would not be ^opinion? complete without some reference to the history of opinions concerning concerning universals. This exhibits a gradual advance- nniTersals. me nt in the apprehension of truth, together with some Socrates, ' movements of a mistaken or retrograde character. The Plato, AHs- school which Pythagoras founded, five hundred years before Porphyry ' Christ, was the first to give formal expression to the error of attributing reality to universals; but the earliest extant teaching of this doctrine is to be seen in those writings which Plato composed about one hundred years after the death of Pythagoras. Socrates, the master of Plato, had insisted upon the necessity of our attaining correct conceptions of the permanent and the important by observing in individual cases what may be essential to any given kind of thing. This teaching was developed and enforced by Plato in his doctrine of ideas. But the term " idea," as employed by Plato, meant something wholly different from what we now understand by it. He contrasted the idea (rj I8ea, to ddos) with the conception (vorjfxa), and meant by it the object of the conception. The genius and aims of this delightful writer are moral rather than metaphysical : yet his state- ments imply that ideas have an existence of their own, separate from the mind and from individuals; that ideas alone are true, incorruptible, 15 226 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXIX. and imperishable entities ; and that the passing objects and phenom- ena of the world derive the laws of their existence from these ethereal ideas. Aristotle, rejecting Plato's doctrine, denied that ideas, or univer- sale, exist separately from the individual; yet he was far from refusing them a reality. He did not see that the distinction between matter and form which we make and use in our ordinary thinkings, repre- sents no external., or objectual, difference of things, or parts, or ele- ments, but only sets forth the very same things in their relations to two different modes of thought. He accounts for the generation, or the becoming, of things by the union of matter and form, as two ele- ments externally distinguishable. But he asserts that form never exists save in union and co-operation with matter, and that matter never exists save in similar union with form. Moreover, what is general or universal is formal, and never exists separately, but always is uniting variously with matter so as to produce the individual. The inextricable confusion of the Aristotelian metaphysics is to be traced chiefly to the misapprehension of the true nature of such dis- tinctions as that between matter and form; and if to this cause we add the influence of ambiguous terms, it will be entirely accounted for. As an instance of the latter, the word ovecies sensatce, which were treasured up and employed b}' memory and fantasy ; and species intelligibiles, which are the general notions of the intellect applicable to things perceived. The species of the fantas}' were derived from those of sense ; but different opinions prevailed as to the origin of intelligible species. Some derived them from the species of the fantasy ; others held them to be innate to the mind, which brought them into use as occasion required. Moreover, while most made sensible species the in- ternal products of a mental power, some gave them an existence external to the mind, and even a eapabilit\ T of flying, in a con- tinuous and rapid succession, through space. Most mediaeval thinkers, also, assumed some sort of resemblance between the species and the object perceived, — a doctrine which very natu- rally finds a place in every theory of representative perception. But William of Occam, the great nominalist, who rejected the universals of rational thought, rejected also species of eveiy kind. He held that no such media are necessary for the perception of things. In this he was followed by two great men of a succeed- ing age, Gassendi and Descartes, both of whom denied the pos- sibility of any resemblance between thought and things known, but who nevertheless left the nature of sense-perception very ill-defined. Descartes did an essential service to philosophy in asserting the intellectual character of sense-perception more strongly than had ever been done before ; and his employment of the word ''idea," to signify the immediate object of the mind in any mode of perceiving or thinking, has resulted in the modern use of the term to denote a thought of any kind whatever. Previ- ously to his da}' ideas meant what Plato understood by them, — that is, eternal patterns of things in the Divine mind. After Descartes the doctrine of perception by means of species underwent various fortunes, being incased and protected by the Chap. XXXIII.l SENSE-PERCEPTION. 263 scholastic terminolog}', yet weakened by ever}' new advance in psychological analysis. The learned Pere Malebranche, whose doctrine of "occasional causes" made perception immediately dependent on Divine interposition, was a noted defender of sensible species ; while Antony Arnauld, the distinguished Jan- senist, discarded species, and identified the idea of the object with our perception of it. Even Arnauld, however, held that the idea of the object was representative of it, and the immedi- ate object of perception ; and this seems to have been the view of Locke also. Locke expressfy says that "idea is the object of thinking;" teaching, however, at the same time that "the ideas of sensation are, in the mind, no more the likeness of something existing without us than the names that stand for them are the likeness of our ideas/' Berkeley and Hume so developed this doctrine of Locke as to leave no objects of thought save ideas only. Thomas Reid, At last Thomas Reid, the stalwart apostle of com- 1710-1797. mon sense, arose and thoroughly destroyed the theory of representative perception in all its forms. No one can study the writings of Reid without being mightily convinced that, in perception, we deal with the object itself, and not with any species, or idea, or representation of it, in the mind. We per- ceive the object itself, and not a vicarious substitute. The position of Reid may be illustrated b}' citing part of his "first reflection on the common theory ot ideas." This theory, he says, " is directly contrary to the universal sense of men who have not been instructed in philosophy. When we see the sun and the moon, we have no doubt that the very objects which we immediatel}' see are very far distant from us and from one an- other. We have not the least doubt that this is the sun and the moon which God created some thousands of years ago, and which have continued to perform their revolutions in the heav- ens ever since. But how are we astonished when the philoso- pher informs us that we are mistaken in all this ; that the sun and moon which we see are not, as we imagine, many miles distant from us and from each other, but that they are in our own mind ; that they had no existence before we saw them, and will have none wdien we cease to perceive and think of them ; because the objects we perceive are only ideas in our own minds, which can have no existence a moment longer than we think of them ! If a plain man, uninstructed in philosoplrv, has faith to receive these mysteries, how great must be his astonishment ! He is brought into a new world, where eveiy thing he sees, tastes, or touches is an idea, — a fleeting kind of being, which he can conjure into existence or can annihilate in the twinkling of an 264 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIII. eye. After his mind is somewhat composed, it will be natural for him to ask his philosophical instructor, ' Pra}', sir, are there, then, no substantial and permanent beings, called the sun and moon, which continue to exist, whether w r e think of them or not?' Here the philosophers differ. Mr. Locke and those that were before him will answer that it is very true there are sub- stantial and permanent beings called the sun and moon ; but they never appear to us in their own person, but hy their repre- sentatives, the ideas in our own minds, and we know nothing of them but what we can gather from those ideas. Bishop Berkeley and Mr. Hume would give a different answer to the question proposed. The} 7 would assure the querist that it is a vulgar error that there are any permanent and substantial beings called the sun and moon ; that the heavenly bodies, our own bodies, and all bodies whatever, are nothing but ideas in our minds ; and that there can be nothing like the ideas of one mind but the ideas of another mind. There is nothing in Nature but minds and ideas, says the Bishop; — nay, says Mr. Hume, there is nothing in Nature but ideas only ; for what we call a mind is nothing but a train of ideas connected by certain re- lations between themselves." The treatise from which the foregoing is quoted is an irresisti- ble demonstration of the falsity of the representational view of external perception, and a strong vindication of the truthfulness of the, dictates of common sense. In particular, ideas or species, as intermediate objects, are shown to be things merely Irypo- thetical, assumed, without any evidence of their existence, in order to explain facts which they really tend to explain away. Reid's At the same time it is to be confessed that Reid doctrine succeeded better in refuting erroneous views than in criticised ° Clarke, developing and defending a theory of his own. His doctrine is defective both in regard to our acquired perceptions, to which class all our more noticeable sense-cogni- tions belong, and in regard to those original perceptions on which the acquired are founded. He made a mistake in denying the fact relied upon b} T the advocates of representational percep- tion, that, in some sense at least, the immediate cognition of the distant is a thing impossible. Certainly, with our present constitution, an object must act on the mind to be perceived ; such being the case, it is rational to suppose that only those objects are immediately perceived which act immediately, and that other objects which act through them are perceived inferentially, although it ma} T be by a simple, eas}-, and instantaneous inference. Even were we to suppose disembodied spirits to have a power of external cognition in no Chap. XXXIIL] SENSE-PERCEPTION. 265 way conditioned on impressions from without, it is impossible to believe that the}' could exercise that power if entirety sepa- rated from the object and from all means of communication with it. We reject Reid's doctrine of the immediate perception of the distant as being contrary both to fact and reason. The teaching of this philosopher respecting original acq m red 'per- sense-perception is not so objectionable as that which ception as we haA T e iust considered, and which pertains to ac- 1 1 1 cf"iii OM1 mli Pil by Refd. An quired perception only. His account of original per- dtetinction ce Ption is defective rather in the mode of its conception and expression than in the principal matter presented. Believing every act of cognition to be of a purely internal origin, and not, like sensation, the effect of external causes, he was led to say that perception is a kind of suggestion, or inference, made by the mind on the occasion of its sensations. Nevertheless, he held this to be an act of immediate cognition, because it is entirety independent of any past knowledge or perception of things, and itself originates both our conception of objects and our belief in their existence. Therefore, also, it is radically different from that suggestional, or inferential, cognition which it is the province of the reasoning faculty to supply. Reid's doctrine of the immediateness of both original and acquired perception may be best gathered from a passage in his second essa} T . u In perception," he sa}:s, " whether original or acquired, there is something which may be called the sign, and something which is signified to us, or brought to our knowledge, by that sign. In original perception the signs are the various sensations which are produced by the impressions made upon our organs. The things signified are the objects perceived in consequence of those sensations, by the original constitution of our nature. Thus, when I grasp an ivory ball in my hand, I have a certain sensation of touch. Although this sensation be in the mind, and have no similitude to anything material, yet, by the laws of my constitution, it is immediately followed by the conception and belief that there is in iny hand a hard smooth body of a spherical figure, and about an inch and a half in diameter. This belief is grounded neither upon reasoning nor upon experience • it is the immediate effect of my consti" tution ; and this I call original perception. "In acquired perception the sign ma}^ be either a sensation or something originally perceived. The thing signified is some- thing which, by experience, has been found connected with that sign. Thus, when the ivory ball is placed before my eye, I per- ceive b}' sight what I before perceived by touch, that the ball is smooth, spherical, and of such a diameter and at such a dis- 268 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIII. latter perception. Such a mode of statement is an invitation easily accepted by a thinker of Kantian proclivities to question the authority of the "suggestions" of the mind, in regard to objects external to the soul ; it also gives one who supposes the 4 ' interpretation " mentioned to be an ordinary logical inference the opportunity of showing that there is no ground for any such inference, — nay, that an original inferential perception is an absurdity. The latter objection is unjust, being grounded on misapprehension ; the former ma} T be partially met by saying that what is ultimate and irresistibly self-evident should be received as its own proof; yet both naturally present themselves. The discussion of difficulties like these led to the inquiry whether the doctrine of the Glasgow professor was not capable of improvement. In particular, it was asked, " Have we not ground to believe in a perception yet more immediate than that which Reid describes ? " and ' ; May not the phenomena of such perception be set forth in terms more exactly expressive of its nature than any which have yet been used?" The answer to these questions was wrought out by Sir William Hamilton, and is the principal addition which his learned and laborious criti- cism has made to the philosophy of Scotland. His improvement of the doctrine of perception pertains to two points. In the first place, discarding the statement of Reid and his immediate successors, that "perception follows sensation," or that " sensation is the antecedent of perception," Hamilton forcibly maintained that both the sensation and the sense- affecting object, together with the proper characteristics and relations of the latter, are perceived directly and at once, and in the same intellectual movement. And, secondly, he rejected all such terms as "interpretation" and " suggestion," and spoke of the "intuitions and presentations" of perception. "Ex- ternal perception, or perception, simply," says he, " is the faculty presentative, or intuitive, of the phenomena of the non-ego, or matter, — if there be any intuitive apprehension of the non-ego at all. Internal perception, or self-consciousness, is the faculty presentative, or intuitive, of the phenomena of the ego, or mind." By these simple changes, in which Reid himself would have heartily acquiesced, Hamilton freed the doctrine of perception from a liabilit\ T to be misapprehended, and rendered it in eveiy wa} T conformable to the common judgment and experience of mankind. The foregoing sketch indicates how slowly and with what difficult} 7 a satisfactory theory of perception has been reached by speculators. The earliest philosophers regarded the soul Chap. XXXIV.] PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION 269 as a material essence, and its perceptions and thinkings as molecular motions resulting from the impact or attraction of external things. The membranous simulacra of Empedocles, constantly flying off from objects and entering through the avenues of sense, betoken a more thoughtful theorizer. Next we notice the obscure and half-developed views of Plato and Aristotle ; the former of whom scarcely recognized any connec- tion between thought and sense, and the latter of whom made perception the result of the combined action of the semi-corporeal sensitive soul and the immaterial rational mind. The sensible species of the schoolmen, produced by the percipient spirit, jet distinct from it, and the direct objects of cognition, maj* be taken as showing progress in the recognition of the intellectual character of perception. This progress is more apparent in the " ideas" of Occam, Descartes, Leibnitz, Arnauld, and Locke, which were identical with perceptions, yet the immediate objects of perception. These introduced the logical but self-destructive philosophies of Berkeley and Hume. Reid followed, denying that we perceive by representations, and teaching, though im- perfectly, the doctrine of immediate perception. Finally, Sir William Hamilton expressed the truth by saying that our first cognition of things within, or in contact with, the sensorium is absolutely free from any process of inference, and that there- fore it should be called presentative, or intuitive, perception. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE RELIABILITY OF PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION. The reiiaMi- *• ^ HE question as to the reliability, or truthfulness, ity of sense- of the senses pertains chiefly to our original, or im- Tife^question mediate, cognitions. Mistakes occur in acquired, or pertains to inferential, perception: but our original perceptions original per- ception chief- are never incorrect. The so-called deceptions of sense Au^ustine m ' are merely wrong conclusions from facts immediately and Aristotle perceived. This is the position of Reid in his chap- qu0 e * ter on " The Fallac} T of the Senses." In speaking of " the errors to which we are liable in our acquired perceptions," he even denies that such perceptions are those of sense at all. " Acquired perception," he says, " is not properly the testimony of those senses which God hath given us, but a conclusion 270 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIV. drawn from what the senses testify." Long previously to Reid, philosophers had recognized the reliability of immediate percep- tion, and had ascribed fallibilitj^ only to the accompanying judg- ment. Anselm of Canterbury wrote : " Falsitas, non in sensibus, sed in opinione." St. Augustine, referring to the oar half dipped in water, says : " Si quis remum frangi in aqua opinatur, et, quum inde aufertur, integrari, non malum habet internun- tium, sed malus est judex." And Aristotle taught that sense perceives its own things correctly, or with the least possible error, but may be mistaken in things accidental to it. We cannot be wrong in saying that we see something white, but we may be mistaken in sa3'ing that the white thing is this or that, — if, for example, we should say that it is, or that it is not, the man Cleon. In considering the reliability of sense, we should bear in mind the fact remarked \>y Reid, that by far the greater part of our perceptions are acquired. This will enable us to see that in one part of every ordinal perception there is no possibilit} r of error, and that there is another part in which one may find himself deceived. We may be mistaken in asserting some ob- ject to be yellow ; for the apparent color may not truly reside in the surface of the object, but may result from the reflec- tion, of a yellow flame, or from our looking through stained glass, or from a jaundiced condition of the eye. But we may be certain that the soul sees something different from itself, and which ma} r be distinguished from other things as the cause of a peculiar sensation of color. In other words, there can be no doubt that we see something yellow. After this manner all our ordinary perceptions may be analyzed. ^ , , . The question of the veracity of the senses is the of a wider in- principal branch of a more fundamental inquiry, with ^^.Z 1 ! 1 ?, 11 which it is practically identical ; we mean that in- concerns nu- a •/ / itianknowi- quiry which concerns the reliability of presentational ai! ge Metnod" thought in general. of inquiry Since presentation is the ultimate source of all Aristotle' knowledge, the bearing of our present investigation Some'things ^ s ver 3' broad. We are really to discuss the question, must be self- whether or not human knowledge in general has any evident. -, ,* -, ,. o o J good foundation. Let us start out with the principle that something must be self-evident, if any things at all are true and can be known to be. This truth, which may be deduced immediately from the nature of inference, is one of the oldest doctrines of phi- losophy. Aristotle taught that nothing can be more unreason- able than to ask a reason for everything, and that some things Chap. XXXIV.] PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION. 271 must be evident of themselves. The most perfect inference is valueless if it do not rest ultimately on truths which are not inferred. Nothing can be supported unless there be that which needs no support ; nothing dependent and derived without that which is independent and underived. It is the office of philosophy — perhaps its most important office — to consider the nature and relations of self-evident truths so as to determine what may be the marks of their self- evidence. In other words, while making no attempt to prove the self-evident, we should be able, when called upon, to prove that it is self-evident and does not stand in need of extraneous support. There is only one way in which this can be done ; we must consider attentively undoubted individual cases of intuitive conviction, so as to see in what respects they differ from other beliefs which are not intuitive. ISome, while admitting the possibility of this process, may say that it is useless, — that one might as well be asked to prove the visibility of the sun as the self-evidence of a thing self-evident, — that, in short, there can be no question as to the truth of things presentational^ known. This is true in regard to one aspect or relation of our immediate perceptions ; but it is not true in regard to their philosophical relations. In practical matters, and in the primaiy and proper exercise of intuition, one never doubts the self-evident, or hesitates to act on his perception of it. But in speculation, when we deal not directly with sensible realities, but with mental reproduc- tions and elaborations, it has been found possible both to deny that some things which are self-evident are so, and to assert that other things are self-evident which are not. The intuitional character ascribed to abstractions and generalizations is second- ary and derivative, and is that only of the individual perceptions which they represent. And as in commerce gold is never re- jected, while this ma}' happen to notes " as good as gold," so general and abstract " intuitions," together with conclusions derived from them, are questioned, while actual individual per- ceptions never are. The most astounding errors have arisen from this theoretical rejection of our immediate cognitions. The negative ^" To counteract such speculative evils, certain tests tests of or marks — certain rules of judgment, both positive and negative — may be employed, by means of which we may estimate the value of alleged intuitions. If such criteria can be found, not only the ipse dixit of philosophers, but also our own uninformed opinions, may properly be subjected to their authority. 272 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIV. The negative rales of judgment are based on those negative characteristics which belong to every true presentation. For example, no belief is intuitive ichich requires logical proof before we can accept it. That the Kohinoor diamond exists, and that it is a crystal of carbon, ma}' be assured con- victions with persons who never saw the gem ; but the}- are not intuitions. It is clear, also, that no remembrance is an intuition ; even the most perfect memory is onfy the reproduction of past thought, accompanied with the mental assertion that this thought was at the first presentationally obtained. Again, no general truth is intuitional. Every general concep- tion or proposition is formed by a process of abstraction ; its truthfulness depends on the correctness of that process. Many general convictions are styled intuitions ; nor do we find fault with this ; but such language signifies only that they are imme- diately formed from intuitions. The general truths, that matter and its qualities exist, and that spirit and its powers exist, are intuitions, or presentations, only in a secondaiy sense. In the next place, no merely probable judgment is intuitive. Eveiy judgment of probabilit}* is of the nature of an inference ; it is the selection by the mind, from several possible consequents, of that consequent which is supported by the greatest number of chances. Probable judgment may also be distinguished from the intuition of which we now speak, because the latter is alwaj's the perception of an object, while in the former we deal not with things, but only with conceptions which may or may not be found to agree with reality. So, also, no doubtful belief is intuitive. We distinguish a judgment of doubt from a judgment of probability, because in the former our minds are not determined to any degree of con- fidence, but remain unfixed and wavering. Finally, no hypothetical conviction is intuitive in the sense now considered. For such a conviction is not only inferential, but it is also based on supposition. We are now discussing presentational intuitions alone. The use of the -^k us now ^ urn ^° some rules which refer to posi- positive rules tive characteristics, and which are much more deter- that^he 8 urinative than the negative tests. The consideration negative. f these positive rules shows at once that absolute confidence with which we maj T rest on presentational cognition, and the method by which we may satisfy ourselves whether any particular belief be intuitional or not. The use of these rules is based on the supposition that a certain number of our beliefs will stand the tests already considered. Let a conviction Chap. XXXIV.] PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION. 273 be neither a mere deductive conclusion, nor the memoiy of a past perception, nor an abstract and general proposition, nor a probable judgment, nor a doubtful belief, nor an hypothetical assertion, but so far as we can see, the presentational perception of either contingent or necessaiy fact. We have now what might be called a prima facie case of intuition, and are in a position to apply further and more conclusive rules of philosophi- cal criticism. 3. These have been variously enumerated b} T emi- tivTmarks" nent writers, but the} T may all, we think, be reduced 1 * 'l-Tesistibie t0 tnree * ^ n tne m ' St l J l ace ' our intuitions, Or pre- conviction, sentative perceptions, are marked lry that absolute and Lceptlnce- irresistible conviction which they produce ; in the 3 Logical second place, the intuitions of each individual mind ucy are marked b} T an agreement with those of all other minds, of which fact the common possession b}~ our race of a large body of assured beliefs is a sufficient proof; and in the third place, the intuitions of the mind are marked by a perfect logical consistenc}* and coherency with each other. These tests, when faithfully empkyyed, leave no ground for speculative scepticism, and render our analytic acceptance of intuitional truth as unconditional as our practical acceptance of it always is. The first rule is the most fundamental ; the other two furnish secondary proofs, whereb}' the perfect self-evidence of intuition may be more clearly seen and more fully acknowledged. For if our immediate perceptions were not absolute and irresistible convictions, it would matter little whether they were experienced by all men alike, or whether they were logically consistent with one another. The irresistible conviction, mentioned as the fundamental mark of an intuition, is not the simple certainty which ordinarily attends immediate perception. It is the conviction which ac- companies experiments made for the purposes of philosophy, and ichich, in this way, falls under the scrutinizing observa- tion of the investigator. We appeal to that special and specu- lative exercise of self-consciousness which has sometimes been distinguished as reflection. This appeal is legitimate, and when properly made has alwa\'s the same result. Most philosophical schools, indeed, claim that consciousness in some way favors their theories, just as most theologians are able to find all their doctrines in the Bible. "Hie liber est in quo queerit sua dogmata quisque, Invenit et pariter dogmata quisque sua." 18 274 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIV. But the difficulty with many is that they cite consciousness rather in support of their own opinions than as a simple relater of truth. Many also expect an instantaneous decision of gen- eral questions, when they should look simply for the immediate presentation of the facts of spiritual life. Consciousness testifies onty that our immediate and individual perceptions have an absolute and irresistible certaint}-. If the testimon} T of this witness be accepted and be rightly taken, man}' things will be put beyond dispute. If one doubt whether there be such a thing as thirst, let him eat salt victuals for a week without drinking water or any other fluid ; his doubt will be removed. In like manner let one gaze upon some prospect, or listen to some strain of music, endeavoring at the same time to believe that there is nothing external to himself, — that he is deluded in supposing that he hears or sees anything. He will find the task an impossibility ; that the presented facts admit of. no denial. The most extreme sceptics allow that this testimonj 7 of con- sciousness would be perfectly conclusive with them save only for certain speculative objections ; and they confess that even as it is, their philosoplry is powerless to affect their own immediate convictions. " Nature," says that prince of doubters, David Hume, " is always too strong for principle ; and though a Pyr- rhonian may throw himself or others into a momentary amaze- ment and confusion by his profound reasonings, the first and most trivial event in life will put to flight all his doubts and scruples, and leave him the same, in every point of action and speculation, with the philosophers of eveiy other sect, or with those who never concerned themselves in any philosophical researches." The ar<*u- ^' ^ ne essen tial strength of the argument in favor mentfrom of the reliability of our immediate cognitions lies in sense U ™dis- the irresistible self-evidence of the cognitions them- A US st d ti selves, as attested by the reflective consciousness. Cicero, Keid, But as a strong tower, resting on a solid rock, may Hume. k e renc ] ere d more immovable by buttresses, so our faith in the intuitions of which we are conscious may be cor- roborated by a comparison of our convictions with those of our fellow-men, and by an attentive consideration of the consistency and coherency of the intuitions with one another. It is true that the strength of an immediate perception is in no way affected by any sense that we may have that the convictions of others agree or disagree with our own. When a man has the toothache, he is absolutely sure that he has it, and that he can have it, and cannot help having it ; and he will hold these con- Chap. XXXIV.] PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION. 275 victions in spite of airy assertions on the part of others who have never had such a feeling, that they do not believe it to be a pos- sible experience. In like manner a laboring man who handles a pick or a spade is absolutely certain that these tools have weight and solidity, shape and size ; and he could not be shaken in this belief though the whole world should combine against him. But we must remember that the present discussion con- cerns the foundations of philosophical faith, and that this faith does not rest immediately in our presentative cognitions, but in general and abstract conceptions of them. This mode of conviction ma}' be weakened, and it may be strengthened, by argument. The absolute unanimity of our race in regard to matters pre- sentationally known, and to such other matters as are fully sub- ject to the knowledge and understanding of all, has been styled the communis sensus, or ''common sense," of mankind; and this is an arbiter of opinion whose authority on fundamental questions is so great that man}^ have taken it as the chief start- ing-point of all their reasonings, while even the most erratic pa} T it some respect. The universal belief of men was a corner- stone in the philosoplry of Aristotle. He declares : " What all believe, that we affirm ; and whoever rejects this, will find nothing more worthy of confidence." Cicero considered the natural judg- ment of all men unquestionably correct. " De quo omnium natura consentit, id vernm esse, necesse est," are his words. Reid's constant appeal is to " the universal consent of mankind, not of philosophers only, but of the rude and unlearned vulgar." Kant's " practical reason" is but a sublimated misconception of common sense. Even Hume, who, beyond any other, rejected the control of this monitor, formulates for us an excellent rule, the violation of which is magnificently illustrated in his own writings. " A philosopher," he says, " who proposes only to represent the common sense of mankind in more beautiful arid more engaging colors, if, by accident, he commits a mistake, goes no farther, but, renewing his appeal to common sense, and the natural sentiments of the mind, returns into the right path, and secures himself from any dangerous delusion." This agreement of mankind in regard to a large bod}' of convictions has its principal philosophical value in that it proves the convictions to have been correctly constructed. Without adding to the native force of intuition it gives assur- ance that this force has been rightly used and formulated ; which assurance is produced alike whether the beliefs which are found to agree be those of particular perceptions or those of general convictions. 276 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIV. Wherever one goes, all over the world, he finds that other men perceive the same things — for example, the same objects in some rural scene — in the same way that he does himself ; and also that the general views of men, formed from their particular perceptions, are similar to his own. In this wa} T many funda- mental convictions concerning the existence and the nature of entities, and the laws of their being, have become the common propertv of mankind. The parts of the plrysical universe, the operation of natural causes, the relations of time and space and quanthVy, the daily life and experience of men, and the inward workings of the human mind and heart, are all the objects of the concordant particular perceptions, and of the uniform general convictions, of the whole family of Adam. Evidently this unanimit} T involves a sameness in the original data of our belief, as well as in our deductions from them. In short, our natural judgments being made honestly, and without any other aim than the ascertainment of the truth, our agree- ment in them may be compared to that of a number of mathe- maticians, whose independent solutions of the same problem prove their work to be correct. Only it is to be noticed that in complicated questions we often accept opinions on the au- thority of others, while our appeal to that common sense of which philosoplry speaks, simply confirms convictions which we have alread} T found ourselves competent to form. The»econd Another reason on account of which our faith in part of the intuition is corroborated by the consent of mankind from com — or rather another form of the same reason — is mon sense, founded on the fact that no conflict ever occurs be- tween the intuitions of one man and those of another. If it could be shown that different and discordant natural beliefs were experienced by different men or classes of men, and that no rea- son could be given wiry one set of such convictions should be received and another rejected, this would indicate a radical in- ability on the part of the human family to perceive the truth. The authority of common sense cannot be impeached on the ground of an}' such discord. It is true that the judgments of insane persons, even as to things extremely evident, differ from those of other men. This difference, however, can be plainly traced to the substitution of unreal fancies for actual cognitions, and is alwaj's connected with manifest absurdities ; for which reasons no weight of authority attaches to it. On the con- trary, if a Bedlamite could consider his own case rationally, the difference between himself and the rest of the world as to his being made of glass or iron, or being a millionnaire or an emperor, would furnish him sufficient ground for investigating Chap. XXXIV.] PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION. 277 the formation of his views, in order to see whether they were anything more than wild imaginings. But lunatics, like many great philosophers, are distinguished by a mental independence which elevates them above the authority of common sense. Eecapituia- Such is the argument from the universal agreement tion. f men# The scope of it is not to show that things self evident are to be believed because all men believe them, but to show that certain truths must be self-evident or necessarily connected with the self-evident, because all men believe them. And this argument assumes two forms. First, the consent of men enables us to determine more accurately what intuition teaches, which teaching is then to be believed simply for its own truth ; just as man}' witnesses might testify that some hon- est man made a given statement, which statement we would then believe, not because of the testimony of the witnesses, but because of the honest}' of the man. And, secondly, the absence of conflict between the immediate cognitions of different rational beings shows that no flaw can be found either in their account of their intuitions or in the intuitions themselves. No disagree- ments can be detected in the statements of the hpnest man, as learnt from many witnesses ; we therefore accept with confidence that understanding of his words which is common to all The argument from common sense presupposes that all men have a faculty of perceiving truth, and then shows that the experience of the race agrees fully with that supposition. The consist- ®* ^ ur concluding argument in favor of the reli- eneyand ability of our immediate cognitions is derived from ofouMntui- the consideration that the acceptance of these never tions. involves any absurdity, while the rejection of them always does. This reasoning is allied to the secondary form of that just considered, and has even been identified with the argu- ment from common sense. Hamilton, in his "• Discussions," says : " The argument from common sense postulates, and founds on the assumption that our original beliefs be not proved self- contradictory ." In this statement, however, we suppose that Hamilton lays no emphasis on the word " common." What we are taught is that the self-evidence of our immediate cognitions, no matter whether they ma}' be considered as convictions of the individual or as convictions of the race, becomes especially clear when we observe their perfect logical consistency. But, to complete the strength of this argument, we may add that the truth of intuitions is illustrated also by their logical coherency. In other words, our speculative faith in our cogni- tions is corroborated not only by the consideration that they do not conflict with each other, but also by the consideration 276 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIV. Wherever one goes, all over the world, he finds that other men perceive the same things — for example, the same objects in some rural scene — in the same way that he does himself ; and also that the general views of men, formed from their particular perceptions, are similar to his own. In this way man}' funda- mental convictions concerning the existence and the nature of entities, and the laws of their being, have become the common property of mankind. The parts of the physical universe, the operation of natural causes, the relations of time and space and quanthVv, the dairy life and experience of men, and the inward workings of the human mind and heart, are all the objects of the concordant particular perceptions, and of the uniform general convictions, of the whole family of Adam. Evidently this unaninrhry involves a sameness in the original data of our belief, as well as in our deductions from them. In short, our natural judgments being made honestlj T , and without any other aim than the ascertainment of the truth, our agree- ment in them may be compared to that of a number of mathe- maticians, whose independent solutions of the same problem prove their work to be correct. Only it is to be noticed that in complicated questions we often accept opinions on the au- thority of others, while our appeal to that common sense of which philosoplry speaks, simply confirms convictions which we have already found ourselves competent to form. Th» second Another reason on account of which our faith in part of the intuition is corroborated b} T the consent of mankind from com- — or rather another form of the same reason — is mon sense, founded on the fact that no conflict ever occurs be- tween the intuitions of one man and those of another. If it could be shown that different and discordant natural beliefs were experienced by different men or classes of men, and that no rea- son could be given why one set of such convictions should be received and another rejected, this would indicate a radical in- ability on the part of the human family to perceive the truth. The authority of common sense cannot be impeached on the ground of any such discord. It is true that the judgments of insane persons, even as to things extremely evident, differ from those of other men. This difference, however, can be plainly traced to the substitution of unreal fancies for actual cognitions, and is always connected with manifest absurdities ; for which reasons no weight of authority attaches to it. On the Con- trarj T , if a Bedlamite could consider his own case rationally, the difference between himself and the rest of the world as to his being made of glass or iron, or being a millionnaire or an emperor, would furnish him sufficient ground for investigating Chap. XXXIV.] PRESENTATIONAL COGNITION. 277 the formation of his views, in order to see whether they were anything more than wild imaginings. But lunatics, like many great philosophers, are distinguished h\ a mental independence which elevates them above the authority of common sense. Recapituia- Such is the argument from the universal agreement tion. f men . The scope of it is not to show that things self evident are to be believed because all men believe them, but to show that certain truths must be self-evident or necessarily connected with the self-evident, because all men believe them. And this argument assumes two forms. First, the consent of men enables us to determine more accurately what intuition teaches, which teaching is then to be believed simply for its own truth ; just as man}' witnesses might testify that some hon- est man made a given statement, which statement we would then believe, not because of the testimony of the witnesses, but because of the honesty of the man. And, secondly, the absence of conflict between the immediate cognitions of different rational beings shows that no flaw can be found either in their account of their intuitions or in the intuitions themselves. No disagree- ments can be detected in the statements of the hpnest man, as learnt from many witnesses ; we therefore accept with confidence that understanding of his words which is common to all The argument from common sense presupposes that all men have a faculty of perceiving truth, and then shows that the experience of the race agrees fully with that supposition. The consist- **■ O ur concluding argument in favor of the reli- ency and ability of our immediate cognitions is derived from ofouMntui- the consideration that the acceptance of these never tions. involves any absurdury, while the rejection of them always does. This reasoning is allied to the secondary form of that just considered, and has even been identified with the argu- ment from common sense. Hamilton, in his " Discussions," says : " The argument from common sense postulates, and founds on the assumption that our original beliefs be not proved self- contradictory" In this statement, however, we suppose that Hamilton la} T s no emphasis on the word " common." What we are taught is that the self-evidence of our immediate cognitions, no matter whether they may be considered as convictions of the individual or as convictions of the race, becomes especially clear when we observe their perfect logical consistencj\ But, to complete the strength of this argument, we may add that the truth of intuitions is illustrated also by their logical coherency. In other words, our speculative faith in our cogni- tions is corroborated not only hy the consideration that they do not conflict with each other, but also by the consideration 278 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIV. that they support one another. For presentational convictions, whether in their individual or in their generalized forms, often condition one another logically, and may be said to stand to one another in the relation of reason and consequent. In perceiving the substance of one's own body or soul, we perceive that it must occnp}' space, and in perceiving our own activities, we perceive that they must come from some powers or potencies ; therefore the existence of the space may be inferred from that of the sub- stance, and the existence of the power from that of the aetivit}'. A little consideration will make it evident that all things of which we can have presentational knowledge, whether imme- diately connected with each other or not, are so bound together b\ T a network of conditions that they may be also inferentially known. Such being the case, since every confirmatory inference thus goes back to an immediate cognition, it seems clear that every immediate cognition may be proved from an immediate cogni- tion. The perception of a polecat by smell may be confirmed by the simultaneous sight of the animal; or, to use a more pleasant illustration, the hearing of a voice or footstep may be confirmed by the entrance of a friend, or the remembered cognition of some scene may be corroborated by a second survey of it. Thus the absurdity of rejecting any form of presentational truth results in part from its inseparable connection with other similarly self-evident truths. The denial of space is absurd be- cause involving the denial of body and of motion, and indeed of all objects and events ; for nothing can exist or take place save as in space. And the extreme absurdity of disbelieving one's senses arises from the fact that we cannot do so without rejecting many connected intuitions. " I resolve not to believe my senses," says Reid. " I break nvy nose against a post that comes in my way ; I step into a dirty kennel ; and after twenty such wise and rational actions, I am taken up and clapped into a mad-house." The folly of such conduct and of such theory as is here described is complex, and made up of correlated parts ; it is thorough-going. This logical connection of our presentational per- coifneSion ceptions is worthy of study, because it is the first of intuitions Wical connection of things of which the mind is cog- worthy of more atten- nizant, and that in which the radical principles of all basVeceived reasoning are first found. Hitherto it has been over- looked ; chief!}', we think, because, as a philosophical doctrine, it is less important than either the logical independence or the logical consistency of our immediate cognitions. Chap. XXXV.] THE NATURE OF SUBSTANCE. 279 CHAPTER XXXV. THE NATURE OF SUBSTANCE. 1. The great majority of man's perceptions are acquired, or mediate, and are inferences based on his original, or immediate, cognitions. Therefore an understanding of original perception precedes that of acquired perception. The latter mode of cognition is dependent on the former, not only for its conceptions and for the data of its infer- ences, but also, in a sense, for the principles on which its inferences proceed. Such being the case, the doctrine of original perception is very completely the basis of the philosophy of perception in general. „,. „ We have discussed the nature of immediate perception, perception, and have seen the reliability of it as a source of knowledge, direct and Let us now consider the objects of our immediate cognition, indirect. anc j en( j eavor to conceive clearly and define the generic nature of the objects which become known to us in the exercise of this power. These may be regarded as either direct or indirect, — the former being the proper objects of sense-perception and consciousness, the latter being more properly the objects of concomitant perception. The direct objects of consciousness are our spirits, together with their powers and operations; those of sense-perception are the matter of our bodies, and its powers and operations. Let us consider, first, these direct objects of our perception, and then those the cognition of which, though no less immediate, is less direct. History of Foremost among the objects of direct perception, we the doctrine find substance, — that is, what we have already mentioned, of substance. U nder its generic forms, as matter and spirit. The leading philosophers of the last century taught that we are not immediately cognizant of substance, but only of its powers or qualities, and of its operations and changes. There is no good ground for this doctrine; but the adoption of it by philosophers may be accounted for by vari- ous reasons. The fact that substances are seen only as in opera- tion, and that the interest of the mind is specially determined to the operations and the qualities manifested in them, has much to do with it; this is the truth which has given vitality to the error. A cause more closely connected with philosophical thought may be found in the confusion and obscurity with which the idea of substance has been affected from the earliest times, and from which it is not entirely free at the present day. In the metaphysical and logical treatises of ancient writers, and particularly of Aristotle, substance is frequently mentioned, and many statements are made concerning it; but no one has yet combined these statements into a consistent and intelligible account, nor does this seem a thing possible. For sometimes what is said applies to a meta- physical substance only, — that is, to that substance in which powers may be inherent, — but more frequently it refers to the logical sub- 280 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXV. stance, — that is, to any entity whatever, considered independently and as an actual or possible subject of predication. The confusion of these two notions threw obscurity on both. For the logical substance, with which ancient philosophy mainly con- cerned itself, has this peculiarity, that it may be identified with the sum of its attributes, being precisely the same complement of entity with the attributes, though viewed in a peculiar light; while the meta- physical substance, of which spirit and matter are the subordinate genera, is really, objectually, different from its attributes, and is not the same thing thought of in a different way. Such being the case, two opposite mistakes resulted. First, the logical substance was supposed to have an existence distinct from that of its attributes; and, secondly, the metaphysical substance was de- nied to have any existence other than that of its attributes. These mistakes, together with the difficulty inherently belonging to an ab- struse subject, led some philosophers to speak of substance as the mysterious and incognizable substratum of attributes, and others to question the existence of any such thing as substance. This latter view is too directly contradicted by common sense to merit much attention; but the former is supported by great authority. Locke Reid Before Locke's time two definitions of substance pre- and McCosh' vailed among the schools. That which sets forth substance quoted. as n ens substans accidentibus," was generally preferred to that according to which substance is " ens per se subsistens." Each of these was applied to both the metaphysical and the logical substance ; but, of the two, the former is more applicable to the logical, and the latter to the metaphysical. With regard to both kinds of substance, the expression " ens per se subsistens," from which Spinoza reasoned to ene only substance, erroneously interprets that independence of conception which belongs to the idea of substance, as if it were an independence of existence belonging to substance itself. Rejecting this definition, Locke took the other, conjoining with it what had long been taught by philosophers, that substance is a thing mysterious and incognizable. His views are fully expressed in the second book of his " Essay," and may be illustrated by the following quota- tion: " When we talk or think of any particular sort of corporeal sub- stances, as horse, stone, and so forth, though the idea we have of either of them be but the complication or collection of those several simple ideas of sensible qualities, which we use to find united in the thing called horse or stone ; yet because we cannot conceive how they should subsist alone, nor one in another, we suppose them existing in, and supported by, some common subject; which support we denote by the name of substance, though it be certain that we have no clear or distinct idea of that thing we suppose a support. The same happens concerning the operations of the mind, — viz. , thinking, reasoning, fearing, etc., — which we, concluding not to subsist of themselves, nor apprehending how they can belong to body, or be produced by it, are apt to think the actions of some other substance which we call spirit.'" Remarking on these teachings, Locke says: " He that would show me a more clear and distinct idea of substance would do me a kind- ness I should thank him for." Chap. XXXV.] THE NATURE OF SUBSTANCE. 281 In the foregoing, one sees how Locke does not distinguish the meta- physical from the logical substance ; which he should have done. The perplexity of subsequent thinkers may be illustrated from Reid's writings. " I perceive in a billiard ball," he says, " figure, color, and motion; but the ball is not figure, nor is it color, nor motion, nor all these taken together; it is something that has figure and color and motion. This is a dictate of Nature and the belief of all mankind. As to the nature of this something, I am afraid we can give little ac- count of it, save that it has the qualities which our senses discover. It seems to be a judgment of Nature that the things immediately per- ceived are qualities which must belong to a subject; and all the infor- mation that our senses give us about this subject is that it is that to which such qualities belong. From this it is evident that our notion of body or matter, as distinguished from its qualities, is a relative notion ; and I am afraid it must always be obscure until men have other faculties." In opposition to such teachings as these, and their evil consequences, Dr. McGosh remarks: " It is high time that those metaphysicians who defend radical truth should abandon this unknown and unknowable substratum, or noumenon, which has ever been a foundation of ice to those who would build upon it. . . . We never know quality with- out knowing substance, just as we cannot know substance without knowing quality. . . . True, the substance is never known alone, or apart from the quality; but as little is the quality known alone, or apart from a substance. Each should have its proper place, neither less nor more, in every system of the human mind." In his " Intuitions," also, McCosh describes substance as a form of being endowed with power and permanence. This is not an analytic definition, but simply the determination, or indication, of a concejrfion, by the use of distinguishing properties. It is important to remark that the notion of substance is no more capable of analysis than are those of space, time, power, and change; it is something simple, and to be defined only by the relations which belong to the nature of substance. The attempt to define substance analytically has been one cause of the confusion of philosophers respecting it. To say that substance is actual entity as permanently related, or as having permanent attri- butes, which is the teaching of President Porter, is not satisfactory; for substance — that is, metaphysical substance — is a peculiar and indefinable kind of being, and is distinguished by its own essential attribute of substantiality, as well as by other properties which connect themselves with this. Moreover, logical as well as metaphysical substances may be either actual or possible, and may have permanent relations and attributes. The definition misses the mark; and this because the mark — that is, the kind of definition to be given — was misconceived. Accepting metaphysical substance as having an undefinable pecu- liarity, — as being, in fact, one of the summa genera of entity, — the distinction between this and the logical substance becomes plain. "We see, too, how these conceptions are so related to each other that the same object may in one aspect be a metaphysical, and in another a logical, substance. The former, when distinguished from its powers 282 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXV. and other attributes, is conceived of as having its own essential attri- bute of substantiality; the logical substance, whether it be a meta- physical substance or not, is simply a complement of entity viewed indeterminately, — that is, as materia secunda or as materia prima; and therefore, when distinguished from its attributes, is conceived simply as an entity, or an existence. Tb .. 2. Another source of error concerning substance has been ity of sub- the denial of one of the necessary properties of this kind of stance. Des- entity, — namely, its extension, or spatiality. This denial cartes, ocke. j iag ^ a jj en pi ace j n connection with the distinction between spirit and matter as the two kinds of substance. Till quite latelv, modern philosophy, following Descartes, has taught that matter is the unthinking, extended substance, and spirit the thinking, unextended sub- stance ; and that therefore there may be substance without extension. This doctrine is simply a philosophical assumption. While indicating a laudable desire to contrast matter and spirit, it is supported only by the fact that the extension of matter is more noticeable than that of spirit. Hamilton, who holds this view, admits its modern origin. In his "Discussion" of the philosophy of the "Conditioned," he writes: " The difficulty of thinking, or rather of admitting as possible, the immateriality of the soul, is shown by the tardy and timorous manner in which the inextension of the thinking subject was recognized in the Christian Church. Some of the early Councils, and most of the Fathers, maintained the extended, while denying the corporeal, nature of the spiritual principle; and though I cannot allow that Descartes was the first by whom the immateriality of mind was fully acknowl- edged, there can be no doubt that an assertion of the inextension and illocality of the soul was long and very generally eschewed, as tanta- mount to the assertion that it was a mere nothing." With us the difficulty, which Hamilton recognizes, of admitting the inextension of the soul is insurmountable. We cannot conceive any- thing to exist save as in space, nor of any substance as existing except as occupying or pervading space. Locke, writing twenty years after the death of Descartes, and know- ing the views of the latter, by no means admits the inextension of spirit. In a discussion concerning identity he says: "We have the ideas of but three sorts of substances, — God, finite intelligences, bodies. First, God is without beginning, eternal, unalterable, and everywhere; and, therefore, concerning his identity there can be no doubt. Secondly, finite spirits having had each its determinate time and place of beginning to exist, the relation to that time and place will always determine to each of them its identity as long as it exists. Thirdly, the same will hold of every particle of matter to which, no addition or substraction of matter being made, it is the same. For though these three sorts of substances, as we term them, do not ex- clude one another out of the same place, yet we cannot conceive but that they must necessarily each of them exclude any of the same kind out of the same place; or else the notions and names of identity and diversity would be in vain, and there could be no such distinction of substances, or anything else, one from another." This passage is conformable to the rational conjecture that spirit Chap. XXXV.] THE NATURE OF SUBSTANCE. 283 and matter do not occupy space in the same way, and that psychical substances have a subtilty, a fineness, and a continuity of being which enable them to penetrate the coarser substance, body, with as much freedom as if the space were vacant. We would not, however, say that spirit can occupy the very same space which is occupied by the ultimate atoms of matter ; and perhaps the words of Locke do not suggest so much as this. Other passages in the writings of this philosopher show that he deprecated any undue distinction between material and spiritual sub- stance. In a discussion subjoined to the third chapter of the fourth book of his " Essay," he says: " So far as I have seen or heard, the Fathers of the Christian Church never pretended to demonstrate that matter was incapable to receive a power of sensation, perception, and thinking from the hand of the omnipotent Creator. I know nobody before Descartes that ever pretended to show that there was any con- tradiction in it. So that, at the worst, my not being able to see in matter any such incapacity as makes it impossible for omnipotency to bestow on it a faculty of thinking, makes me opposite only to the Cartesians." To some these statements may savor of materialism; but it is to be observed that they are purely hypothetical, and that the matter mentioned in them simply signifies something possessing " extension and solidity ," while this solidity is suck only as must belong to any external object be- fore it can affect the senses in accordance with the ordinary laws of sen- sation. Locke was no materialist. Porter Me- Few, if any, of the leading philosophers of the present Cosh, Ham- day positively assert that spirits possess extension; this uton, quoted, doctrine, however, is implied in the teachings of some. When President Porter defines sensation " a subjective experience of the soul as animating an extended sensorium," and when he says that "in each sensation the soul knows itself to be affected in some separate part of the extended organism which it pervades," it is natural to infer that the soul, which animates an extended organism and per- ceives itself to be affected in every part of the organism, is itself an extended being. Some words of President McCosh are similarly suggestive. He says that " we intuitively know the organism as out of the mind, as ex- tended, and as localized," and that " at every waking moment we have sensations from more than one sense, and we must know the organs affected as out of each other and in different places." If the intuition of bodily parts, as different and separate, require the imme- diate presence of the thinking agent, this presence must involve a soul which can pervade the body. At the same time we should note that Dr. McCosh does not con- sider this conclusion a necessary one; for in another place he writes: "I am inclined to think that our intuition declares of spirit that it must be in space. It is clear, too, that so far as mind acts on body, it must act on body as in space, — say in making body move in space. But beyond this I am persuaded that we have no means of knowing the relations which mind and space bear to each other. As to whether spirit does or does not occupy space, this is a subject on which 284 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXV. intuition seems to say nothing, and I suspect that experience says as little." With the foregoing statements we may compare those of Hamilton, who writes as follows : " In the consciousness of sensations relatively localized and reciprocally external, we have a veritable apprehension, and consequently an immediate perception, of the affected organism, as extended, divided, figured, and so forth. . . . An extension is apprehended in the apprehension of the reciprocal externality of all sensations." Sensations external to one another seem to indicate an extended soul. To us it is clear that the extension of the soul and the extension of the body are perceived at the same time and as correlated with one another. But we allow that the space-relations of the soul are appre- hended very indefinitely, and are probably not so fixed as those of the body, and they do not excite the interest or engage the attention of the mind. Moreover, the unity of the conscious spirit is inconsistent with the use of organs possessing distinct functions ; and no matter where within the sphere of the sours presence any sensation or other ac- tivity may originate, it seems instantly participated in by our whole being. Hence the paradox of Aristotle, that the soul is all in every part of the body. We content ourselves, therefore, with the statement that spirit and matter are both discerned as substance, and that this form of entity is perceived, and conceived of, as having the occupation or pervasion of space for a distinguishing mark or property ; for power, action, change, and the various accidents of substance, cannot be said to occupy space, but only to pervade or accompany substance in its occupation of space. This brings us to conclude our account of the conception of^ubstance °^ SUDstailce » by saying that we generally think of it as the ' repository and possessor of power. Power, whether active or passive, cannot reside in, or be exercised by, a space or a time, a shape or a relation, or anything except a substance. Nothing can be done or endured unless there be some- thing which has the ability to do or to endure; that something is a substance. The permanence of any power, or the continuance of its activity, is conditioned on the permanent existence of the substance to which it belongs. These things are intuitively perceived by us when- ever we observe the operation of any power. The description of substance which we have now attempted need not be regarded as fundamental to any system of philosophy, although the doctrine set forth in it may be allowed to have some importance. Chap. XXXVI.] THE PERCEPTION OF SUBSTANCE. 285 CHAPTER XXXVI. THE PERCEPTION OF SUBSTANCE. Soul and 1. Our first knowledge of spirit and of matter is body known obtained from an intuitive, or immediate, cognition of perception^ 6 our own S0ll ^ s anc ^ our own bodies, — that is, from our The primary consciousness of our own souls as in different states thuTob- 68 and operations, and from a perception of our own pi ined ' d bodies as affecting our souls and as being affected ' by them. All subsequent knowledge is derived and developed from this. The primary lesson taught by this immediate cognition con- tains two closely related truths. We perceive, first, that the soul is not the body, nor the body the soul ; and, secondly, that the qualities {that is, the poicers) of the soid, and the qualities, or poicers, of the body, are extremely different in nature from one another. Spirit in relation to matter, and matter in relation to spirit, is both uXXov and akkotov. This double distinction, intuitive!}* made, is admirably illustrated by a passage m a dia- logue of Plato. Socrates is conversing with Alcibiades. " Hold, now," says Socrates, "with whom do you converse at pres- ent? Is it not with me? Alcib. Yes. Socr. And I also with you? Alcib. Yes. Socr. It is Socrates then who speaks? Alcib. Assuredly. Socr. And Alcibiades who listens? Alcib. Yes. Socr. Is it not with language that Socrates speaks? Alcib. AVhat now? Of course. Socr. To converse, and to use language, — are not these then the same? Alcib. The very same. Socr. But he who uses a thing and the thing used, — are these not different? Alcib. What do you mean? Socr. A currier, — does he not use a cutting-knife and other instruments? Alcib. Yes. Socr. And the man who uses the cutting-knife, — is he different from the instrument he uses? Alcib. Most certainly. Socr. In like manner the lyrist, — is he not different from the lyre he plays on ? Alcib. Undoubtedly. Socr. This, then, was what I asked you just now, — Does not he who uses a thing seem to you always different from the thing used? Alcib. Very different. Socr. But the currier, — does he cut with his instruments alone, or also with his hands? Alcib. Also with his hands. Socr. He then uses his hands? Alcib. Yes. Socr. And in his work he uses also his eyes? Alcib. Yes. Socr. We are agreed, then, that he who uses a thing and the thing used are different? Alcib. We are. Socr. The currier and the lyrist are therefore differ- ent from the hands and eyes with which they work? Alcib. So it seems. Socr. Now, then, does not a man use his whole body? Alcib. Unquestionably. Socr. But we are agreed that he who uses, and that which is used, are different? Alcib. Yes. Socr. A man is therefore 286 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVI. different from his body ? Alcib. So I think. Socr. What then is the man? Alcib. I cannot say. Socr. You can say, at least, that the man is that -which uses the body? Alcib. True. Socr. Now, does anything use the body but the mind? Alcib. Nothing. Socr. The mind is therefore the man? Alcib. The mind alone." This dialogue brings out the intuitive conviction of mankind. The truth which it enunciates is to be found in the language and literature of all nations ; and every form of monistic philosopli3 T , in attempting to destroy the distinction between mind and mat- ter, simply rolls up the stone of Sisyphus, that it may fall back again to the plain of common sense. The words of Hierocles express the judgment of the race, — " 2u yap e? 7] tyvxv ' to 8e crufxa &6v." " The soul thou art ; the body, — it is thine." 2. Let us now consider, more specifically, the con- Our spGcitic conceptions ceptions of soul and of bod} 7 which intuition enables boJy Uland us t° form. These for the most part are entertained Preliminary in contrast with one another. The distinctive attri- butes of the two kinds of substance being extremely different from one another, yet being constantly perceived in correlation, our conceptions of the substances which they char- acterized are naturally opposed. We do not always and neces- sarily conceive of the mental and of the material as differing from each other ; each may be, and often is, regarded positively and independently. But because the tioo are so frequently viewed in correlation, it is not strange that in our ordinary conceptions of them the idea of difference and negation shoidd mingle with our apprehension of what is positive. This is especially noticeable in our conception of bocty. Hence man} 7 philosophers make the starting-point — the primary ele- ment — of their definition of matter to be that it is the non-ego / in other words, the substance which mind perceives as different from itself. In like manner we find a tendenc} r to define the soul as immaterial, — that is, as devoid of the distinctive attributes of body. There is nothing wrong in this. For in defining the leading cognitional conceptions ot the in- tellect, we should present, as nearly as may be, the analytical expression of these conceptions as they are actually and ordi- narily entertained. In this way only we can hope to exhibit truly the workings of the mind itself, and therein also to attain exact and clear views of the objects of its thought. Philosophi- cal definitions, formed independently of the common sense and judgment of mankind, or without an impartial and careful inter- pretation of that judgment, have often proved the chief corner- Chap. XXXVI.] THE PERCEPTION OF SUBSTANCE. 287 stones for an edifice of error. The cause of truth is always served most perfectly when the conceptions of the mind are given according to their full natural development. Spirit ami With these views, and remembering that substance matter de- is that form of entity which occupies space and is endowed with power, we venture two definitions. We say, first, that mind, or spirit, is the thinking, self-active, and intangible substance / and, secondly, that body, or matter, is the unthinking, self-heljiless, and tangible, or solid, substance. As these statements are opposed to each other throughout, they ma^' be made the subject of a common discussion. The first element in our definition of spirit has in unthinking" all ages been regarded as the principal characteristic substance, of this kind of substance, and as sufficient of itself to form a distinctive definition. By a natural antithesis, also, matter has always been regarded as the unthinking sub- stance. Mind — mind only — thinks. Thought, in this connection, is considered not merely in its own proper nature, but as symbolizing all those peculiar powers which consciousness reveals. The term is employed in that broad sense which ordinarily should be shunned, and of which Descartes took an undue advantage when he declared that the essence of the soul consists in thought. Although, in strict speech, intellectual activity is not even all of the experience of the soul, much less all of the soul itself, it is the most prominent part of ps3*chical life, and the chief condition of its development. No emotion, desire, or voluntary action can take place without thought. Only to sensation thought is not prerequisite ; yet it is difficult to believe that sen- sation could take place save in a being which should at least have a consciousness of that experience. When we define spirit as the thinking substance, — that is, the substance endowed with sensation, intellect, emotion, desire, volition, and all those powers which we distinguish as ps3~chical, — we simplv formulate the natural and intuitive judgment of man respecting his own nature. As might be expected, the doctrine thus presented is a very ancient one. Five hundred 3'ears before Christ, Epicharmus, the. Herodotus of Grecian comedy, tempering his fun with wisdom, wrote : — " Nous Spfj Kal vovs aKovet, r&Wa tcaxpa ical rv t matter and the present discussion are essentially those of Locke, spuit. jj e sa y S . u Q ur i(j ea f body, as I think, is an ex- tended solid substance, capable of communicating motion by impulse ; and our idea of soul, as an immaterial spirit, is of a substance that thinks, and has a power of exciting motion in body Iry willing or thought. These, I think, are our complex ideas of body and soul, as contradistinguished." Here, plainly, Chap. XXXVIL] MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 293 thought is made the chief attribute of spirit ; and solidity, of mat- ter. The capability of moving by impulse is added by Locke so as to define and complete the idea of solidity. In the foregoing discussion we have not thought it cai e tbeory mi " necessary to notice the dynamical theory of body, oi matter. wn ich identifies matter with force. It is simply one form of the doctrine which denies the existence of substance, and is similar in nature and origin to the idealism of Berkeley and the associationalism of Mill. The argument for it is that qualities, or powers, are the only things known to us, and that we have no right to believe in anything else. The assumption here made is false. Substance is known to us as truly and as immediately as the powers which it possesses, or the force which it exerts. It is true that powers and qualities may be spoken of without mention of that substance to which they belong, and even whole books may be written after this style ; but all such language has a tacit reference to substance. CHAPTER XXXVIL MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 1. Having, according to our ability, defined spirit and matter, let us discuss this latter substance and its leading characteristics. Although few philosophers have attempted the exact definition of matter, almost all have undertaken to set forth the leading characteristics of this kind of substance. Some consideration of these is desirable if we would conceive correctly the generic forms of human thought. The various attributes of spirit are studied directly and in detail elsewhere by the psychologist, and do not now call for special considera- tion; but matter is studied only in connection with sense-perception, and it is a part of the philosophy of this perception to determine the nature of our conceptions and convictions concerning material things. The end of metaphysical inquiry regarding any subject other than the mind itself is accomplished when we may have determined the prin- cipal ideas which we rightfully entertain concerning that subject. The leading characteristics of body do not include its essential at- tributes only, nor even those only which, though not conceived of as essential to the very nature of matter, universally accompany that nature as its necessary properties or accidents. These characteristics include, together with the essential and necessary attributes, those also which, to any very wide extent, affect material substances, and determine our more general conceptions concerning them. Some con- fusion has prevailed on this point; and this, united to an indistinct 294 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVII. conception of the essential nature of matter,' has retarded the progress of philosophy in the inquiry concerning material properties. Any one who desires to trace the history of opinions respecting this subject will find a full and masterly discussion in one of the " Dissertations " of Sir William Hamilton, in which, also, the views of Hamilton him- self are ably presented. One's estimate of these views will be modi- fied and determined L>y the conception and definition of matter he may be able to form; but in any case they may be accepted as an advance on the opinions of all preceding authors, and as the basis for the satis- factory settlement of questions that have been long debated. Aristotle was the first who formally enumerated the quoted; 6 necessary attributes of body, and distinguished them from common and others which do not of necessity belong to matter of every bles Pe Locke i - k m( * ^ n( * * n evei T case - In *" s treatise concerning sense, primary and" (cap. i.), he divides things perceivable by sense into two secondary classes, — the common, which are perceived by all or most of quaities. ^ senses; and the proper, the perception of which is pe- culiar to one sense or to another. The common sensibles, according to Aristotle, are figure, size, motion, rest, and number (keya> 8e koivo. (rxw a > peyedos, Kivrjaiv, ardaiv, apiOjjLov), elsewhere adding to these, place, distance, position, and continuity. The proper sensibles are such things as smells, colors, tastes, sounds, together with the percepts of touch, such as the rough and the smooth, the hard and the soft, the hot and the cold, the light and the heavy; and they include also that radical property of matter which we have named solidity. Two thousand years after the Stagirite taught the doctrine which we have now explained, Locke made his noted distinction between the primary and secondary qualities of matter. " Qualities in bodies are," he savs, " first, such as are utterly inseparable from the body in what state soever it be. . . . For example, take a grain of wheat, divide it into two parts; each part has still solidity, extension, Jigure, and mobil- ity. Divide it again, and it retains still the same qualities. And so divide it on till the parts become insensible; they must retain still each of them all those qualities. For division (which is all that a mill or pestle, or any other body, does upon another in reducing it to insensible parts) can never take away either solidity, extension, figure, or mobility from any body, but only makes two or more distinct sepa- rate masses of matter of that which was one before; all which dis- tinct masses, reckoned as so many distinct bodies, after division make a certain number. These, therefore, I call original or primary qualities of body, which I think we may observe to produce simple ideas in us, — viz., solidity, extension, figure, motion, or rest, and number; secondly, such qualities as, in truth, are nothing in the objects themselves but powers to produce various sensations in us by their primary qualities, — that is, by the bulk, figure, texture, and motion of their insensible parts, such as colors, sounds, tastes, and so forth, — these I call secondary qualities." With these secondary qualities Locke classed also " the power that is in any body, by reason of the particular constitution of its primary qualities, to make such a change in the bulk, figure, texture, and mo- tion of another body as to make it operate on our senses differently Chap. XXXVII.] MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 295 from what it did before. Thus the sun has a power to make wax white, and fire to make lead fluid." Elsewhere Locke adds to the primary qualities situation and texture, or consistency. Comparing Locke with Aristotle, as to his view of the universal attributes of matter, there is, at first sight, no important difference. Inspection, however, reveals that the modern differs from the ancient philosopher in two respects. First, his point of view is different. Locke speaks of common quali- ties, not of common sensibles; he regards the things perceived, as in their relation to matter, the direct and fundamental object of sense-perception, rather than as related to our various senses, or faculties of perception. This is an improvement; for the inquiry and thinking of the mind is naturally objective, and even in philosophy we wish to know the ob- jects of thought in themselves rather than in their relations to our means of knowing them. This latter point of view is subordinate to the former. Secondly, — and what is more important, — Locke adds solidity to the list of Aristotle, and in so doing not only gives the most essential of all the sensibles, but also leads us to modify and determine correctly our conception of those attributes which Aristotle mentions. This addition was rendered possible by the point of view which the inquiry of Locke assumed. There might be a question whether solidity is really a com- mon sensible, as this attribute is specially discerned in connection with tactual and muscular sensations. But there can be no question that solidity is an universal and essential attribute of matter, and that attribute by which alone the affections of sense are rendered possible. Such being the case, we may say that the remaining attributes are not things conceived of simply, but things conceived of as perceptibly belonging to a solid substance. Number, for example, belongs to spirits, and their thoughts and powers, as well as to material entities; in fact, the number here mentioned is simply the perceptible numerical difference pertaining to the separable portions of matter. Hence it is often indi- cated by the term "■ divisibility." So, also, rest and motion are not peculiar to bodies; for souls go and stay wherever the bodies containing them may go and stay. In like manner size, as distinguished from mere spatiality, or extension, indicates that space-occupation which is perceivable by the senses. Figure denotes that definite shape which we are led to assign to every material body, aud to the particles of which it is composed. All these are common sensibles, not simply per se, and by reason of their own nature, but specifically, aud as they are related to matter and its solidity. In connection with the foregoing, and confirmatory of it, we note that the radical characteristics of body, as given by Locke and Aristotle, are all conditioned on the space-relations of matter. They have nothing to do with time-relations. No mention is made of the endurance of matter, although it is evident that all bodies are perceived as having a permanency of existence; neither do they include the characteristic of potency, although all matter is perceived as having causative power. The reason for this omission we find in the fact that the real aim of both authors was to enumerate the universal properties of matter, so far as these are immediately conditioned on its essential attribute, 296 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXX VII. rather than an exhaustive list of the universal predicables of matter. This, at least, was Locke's intention. . . Aside from its historical interest, the discussion as to the portauce of" primary characteristics of body is important chiefly as con- tliis topic, firming the thought that solidity is the essential attribute H ii a, ™ 1 j ton in our ordinary conception of matter; for this doctrine is the key to the whole inquiry. Hence some, who have sup- posed the question limited to the essential or constitutive character- istics, have discarded all attributes save "extension and solidity." M. Royer Collard, the able French advocate of the Scottish philoso- phy, took this position. But in defining matter we think that exten- sion may be omitted, for it is presupposed in solidity; the mention of it only makes our conception of body more explicit. Accepting, as the primary attributes of matter, extension, solidity, and such - other characteristics as are universally and peculiarly con- nected with these, we are prepared to consider those attributes which very widely characterize material substances without being necessarily connected with the existence of matter everywhere and always. These have been the theme of great discussions. A critical review of opinions concerning them, as also concerning the primary qualities, may be found in that extremely able paper to which we have referred, and which is the most valuable of those "Dissertations" which Sir William Hamilton published as " Notes " on the philosophy of Reid. The chief defect in Hamilton's discussion is that he does not sufficiently distinguish solidity as the central and essential thought in our conception of matter; he rather makes this to be extension, and solidity to be a necessary property of extension. No theory of body and its qualities which misses the true distinction between these two attributes can prove satisfactory. But the " Dissertation " is a mas- terly production, and may be accepted as the basis for a settlement of the vexed questions of which it treats. Hamilton's list of primary qualities is as follows: "1. Extension; 2. Divisibility; 3. Size; 4. Density or Rarity; 5. Figure; 6. Incom- pressibility absolute ; 7. Mobility; 8. Situation." Here divisibility is the same as the number of Aristotle; size and density are of the same radical nature, for each is a kind of quantity, and the two together form an absolute measure of the quantity of matter in any body; and incompressibility indicates solidity, of which it is the immediate con- sequence. The list would seem to us incapable of improvement, pro- vided only solidity were added immediately after extension, and allowed to qualify our conceptions of the remaining attributes. The non- 2. But the " Dissertation " goes on to discuss those qualities primary which are not primary. These are divided into two classes, lMstin- 68 ' the secundo-primari/ and the secondary. The ground of this guished and division is not stated ; but it plainly lies in the fact that divided into matter exercises power in two ways. For, in the first place, matter can act variously upon other matter; and, secondly, it can act on the soul so as to excite various sensations, through the affection of our sensorial organization. The former class of qualities are styled " secundo-primary," because they are perceived only in the action of body on body as such, and therefore in a sense may be said Chap. XXXVII] MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 297 to involve solidity and the other primary qualities; but the latter class is termed " secondary," "because they are first perceived simply as powers (resident, of course, in some substance) to produce certain sensations within the soul. It is true that secondary qualities may often be explained, and may always be accounted for, as immediately resulting from some particular development of the secundo-primary ; and cases arise in which powers belonging to these two classes may form a unity and be thought of together and under one conception. For example, hardness and soft- ness, roughness and smoothness, may be regarded both as certain dis- positions of the particles of solid bodies, and as the causes of certain sensations in our nervous system. The distinction, however, between the secundo-primary and the sec- ondary is rightly made, even though it may sometimes call us to dis- criminate a thing as viewed in one light from itself as viewed in another. It is not weakened, but confirmed, by the analysis of those cases in which the two modes of quality combine; and it is necessary if we would describe and distinguish our conceptions of outer things according to their natural formation in the mind. That a reference to solidity qualifies our conception of the secundo- primary characteristics of matter is taught by Hamilton when he says that these qualities are known by pressure; for this is the indication of solidity. His words are: "They have all relation to space and to motion in space, and are all contained under the category of resistance or pressure. ' ' We would prefer to say that they all become known to us in connection with pressure and resistance. Moreover, we prefer a different statement from that of Hamilton, when he says that the secundo- primary qualities may be considered in two lights, — the objective, or physical, and the subjective, or psychological; the latter referring to the sensations which they are able to cause. Whenever qualities are viewed simply as the causes of sensations, we would consider and call them secondary; but whenever they may be viewed as related to both physical and psj'chical effects, we w r ould regard them as a combination of the secondary with the secundo-primary. But secundo-primary qualities, per se, seem wholly physical, or objective. Finally, that peculiar class of qualities which Locke inclines to place with the secondary may better be regarded as secundo-primary qualities perceived and conceived of by means of an external character or relation. Though they refer to psychical results, they immediately relate to the action of matter upon matter. The secundo- ^ e sna ^ now give Hamilton's account of the secundo- primary primary qualities almost in his own words. His classifica- quaiities ^ion of the qualities has reference to the general nature of the forces manifested in them. These are of three kinds, — namely, that of co-attraction, that of repulsion, and that of inertia. a. There are two subaltern genera of co-attraction, — to wit, that of gravity, or the co-attraction of the particles of body in general; and that of cohesion, or the co-attraction of the particles of this and that body in particular. Gravity or weight, according to its degree, which is in proportion to the bulk and density of ponderable matter, affords the relative qualities of the heavy and the light. Cohesion, using that 298 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVII. term in its most unexclusive universality, is the basis of many species of qualities. Without proposing an exhaustive list, we enumerate : (1) the hard and the soft; (2) the firm or solid, and the fluid or liquid, — this last being subdivided into the thick and the thin ; (3) the viscid and the friable ; (4) the tough and the brittle ; (5) the rigid and the flexible ; (6) the fissile and the infissile; (7) the ductile and the induc- tile ; (8) the retractile, or cohesively elastic, and the irretractile ; (9) the rough and the smooth ; and (10) the slippery and the tenacious. b. The force of repulsion is manifested in greater or less degrees of resistance to compression, — that is, in (1) relative compressibility and incompressibility ; and also in greater or less degrees of resiliency, or the elasticity of repulsion, — that is, (2) in resiliency and ^resiliency. c. Inertia — or, more fully, the vis inertice — is the tendency whereby body continues in a state of rest or of motion till acted upon from with- out. Combined with bulk and cohesion, it results in the movable and immovable, — that is, the easy and the difficult to move. In the foregoing list the powers of chemical combination and of molecular adhesion are omitted, and should perhaps be added to those qualities which are enumerated under the general head of co- hesion. The tendency to chemical combination is an important and widely operative attribute of matter ; and so, also, is that adhesive force which is exhibited in capillary action, in the solution of a solid in a liquid substance, and in the saturation of one fluid substance by another. Such is the enumeration of Hamilton. 3. We now pass to the secondary qualities of matter. ouaUtf^fare These may be defined as causes existing in body to produce causes con- the various sensations of which man is capable, considered ceivedofby without reference to their own constitution, but simply as an external ,, £ , -, , . • A J mark the causes ot the sensations. We may be ignorant of the nature of that which produces some sensation in us, while yet we are sure that there is something external to us which has a power to affect us in a given way. Only philosophic research reveals the nature of such things as color, sound, odor, heat, cold, and so forth ; but every one knows that things are colored, sonorous, odoriferous, hot, and cold, for these are all the objects of special perceptions. We cannot approve of the language of Professor Stewart and other authors who speak of secondary qualities as the unknown causes of our sensations ; this language is calculated to mislead. Every such quality is known as a cause, and much even may be ascertained of the character of the cause. But it is to be allowed that our conception of the quality does not contain any reference to the particular constitution of the cause, and may be formed and entertained while we are ignorant of that constitution. That secondary qualities are of the nature of causes is taught by Locke when he says that they are " nothing but powers to produce various sensations in us ; " which doctrine has come down from Aristotle, and accords with the universal belief of men. W T hen men say that fire is hot, and that grass is green, and sugar sweet, and thunder loud, they mean not only that we have given sensations, but that there is a power in certain things to produce these feelings. To ascribe such a Chap. XXXVIL] MATTER AND ITS QUALITIES. 299 power to any object does not necessarily involve that any soul is or will be actually affected by it, but only that the proper affection can and will be produced whenever the object may be brought to act on the seusorium. There is literal truth in what the poet says : — "Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air." Moreover, there is no reason to suppose that the external quality resembles the feeling in the mind, or partakes of its nature. The quality is simply a power in some material substance to cause a pecu- liar motion in the matter of our nervous system ; and even this motion is something wholly different from sensation, the latter being an affec- tion of the mind excited by the nervous action, but deriving its peculiar character from the activity of the mind itself. The perception of the quality takes place when we perceive the sensation as an effect and as determined by some cause not within the soul itself. These remarks will explain that war of words as to whether heat and cold, colors, sounds, tastes, and smells exist in external ob- jects, or in the mind only, or in both. They plainly reside in both, but in different senses. The sensations of heat and cold, color and taste, are m the mind only ; the external causes or conditions of these sensations reside in bodies. It is the part of such sciences as acoustics and optics to ascertain the nature of these causes and the mode of their operation ; and modern investigation only confirms the conjec- ture which Aristotle ascribes to Democritus, that savors, odors, and colors consist in the configuration and action of particles of matter. Summary The views which have now been advocated may be of views. summed up as follows. By the qualities of body philosophers have meant those properties which belong exclusively to matter, or the solid substance. The principal primary qualities are solidity, size, figure, mobility, divisibility, and situation ; to which possibly two or three others less noticeable might be added. These are conceived of, not abstractly, but as attributes necessarily, and therefore universally, accompanying solidity. The secun do-primary qualities are powers which bodies have to act upon one another. They also are immediately perceived, and con- ceived of, as connected with solidity, yet not necessarily concomitant of it. Only solid bodies are known to attract and repel each other in space, and to resist any change from a state either of rest or of motion. Yet we might conceive matter to exist without any powers of attraction or repulsion or inertia. Science has established that some of the laws according to which matter acts upon matter are very general. The proposition has been ably maintained that gravity and inertia are universal attributes. It is the province of scientific inquiry, not of immediate intuition, to determine such questions and all others relating to the nature and extent of the secundo-primary qualities of body. Finally, the secondary qualities are powers residing in material things to produce sensations in us. We cannot accept the language of Ham- ilton when he says : " As we are chiefly concerned with these qualities on their subjective side, I request it may be observed that I shall 300 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVIII. employ the expression secondary qualities to denote those phenomenal affections determined in our sentient organism by the agency of ex- ternal bodies, and not, unless when otherwise stated, the occult powers themselves from which that agency proceeds." Only confusion can result if we identify sense- affecting qualities with the affections which they produce. But we may conceive of powers without reference to the physical conditions out of which they arise. We may do so even while ignorant of the nature of such conditions, the essential or differ- entiating element in our conception being purely relative, and based on the effect which the power produces ; thus we conceive of the secondary qualities of matter. The real ground of the division of properties, which we have now considered, Lies in the different ways in which our perception and conception of solidity — or of extension and solidity, the essential properties of matter — are related to our perception and conception of material properties in general. While all the qualities, according to our ultimate understand- ing of them, belong exclusively to matter, the primary attributes are perceived, and conceived of, as necessarily belonging to all extended and solid substances ; the secundo-primary as belonging only to matter or the solid substance, yet, so far as we can see, contingently ; while the secondary qualities are perceived, and conceived of, without any such perception of their relation to an extended solid. From the first they are perceived as powers belonging to a substance other than the soul, and external to it ; but it is by subsequent comparison and judg- ment that they are connected with solidity in the substances which they characterize. Hence our conceptions of them do not ordinarily contain any reference to solidity. CHAPTER XXXVIII. CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION. Concomitant 1. The distinction between direct and concomitant Seflned^nd perception has not received the recognition which it established, deserves. Most writers, and in particular those who Locke, and have lived within the last one hundred years, have em- Keid quoted. Drace cl all our immediate knowledge under the heads of consciousness and sense-perception. They have been induced to do so partly because the same discussion applies largely to all our original cognitions, and yet more because our concomitant perceptions are so intermingled and united with those which are more direct, that the former have naturally been treated as subordinate parts of the latter. This method of treatment has a great disadvantage. It brings the language of philosophy into conflict with that of com- Chap. XXXVIII.] CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION. 301 mon speech ; it makes philosophy use words wrongly, and teach what is not strictly and literally correct. To say that space is perceived Iry sense-perception, and duration by consciousness, is to teach what is not true according to our ordinary conception of the operations and objects of these powers ; neither can we saj' that the relations of number or quantity or causation are perceived \>y these powers, or b}' either one of them. But we can affirm that space, time, number, quantity, and causation are perceived in connection vrith the objects both of sense-percep- tion and of consciousness. The adoption of language other than this has led some to make a division of these common objects so as to assign some of them to sense-perception and some to consciousness, — a di- vision arising solely from the assumption that there are only two modes of immediate cognition. The better plan in this case, as in every other in which it can be employed, is to conform the language of philosophy to that of daily life. Following this method, we may hope to obtain more correct apprehensions, both as to our perceptions and as to the objects of our perceptions, than can be obtained in any other way. Although concomitant perception has not received any formal place in the systems of philosophers, their writings contain inti- mations which greati} T justify its more perfect recognition. Aris- totle teaches that there are three kinds of sensibles, or (as the word might be translated) of sense-perceptibles, and that two of these are perceived in themselves (ko.6 1 ' avra), while one is per- ceived by its accidents [koto. o-v/x/^e/^Kds) . B} T this last we understand the object of acquired perception, as when, seeing a white thing, we recognize the son of Diares ; for to be the son of Diares is something contingent, and not necessaiy, to the whiteness perceived. About this kind of perceptibles we are sometimes mistaken. Of things sensible in themselves, and about which we do not mistake, there are two kinds, — the proper, which belong sev- erally to the several senses ; and the common, which belong to all. The common are motion, rest, number, form, and size. But, adds Aristotle, " of things sensible in themselves, the proper are pre-eminently objects of sense perception, and things to which the nature of each sense is adapted " (" t5>v 8e Kaff avra alo-OrjTuv, to. t'Sia Kvptojs early alcrOrjTa, koI 7rp6s a rj ovcrta 7recf>vKev e/cacrTTys atcr&Jo-etos"). Thus he makes the common sensibles to be the objects of sense only in a secondary and improper way. Else- where he styles them the concomitants and consequents (SlkoXov- Oivra, eVo/xeva) of the proper. Locke, though ver3 T inadequately, recognizes concomitant per- 302 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVIII. ception as a " suggestion" of the mind. He sa} r s : " Existence and unity are two ideas that are suggested to the understand- ing by every object without and every idea within. When ideas are in our minds we consider them as being actually there, as well as we consider things to be actually without us, which is, that they exist or have existence ; and whatever we can consider as one thing, whether a real being or idea, suggests to the under- standing the idea of unit}-. . . . Besides these there is another idea, which, though suggested hy our senses, yet is more con- stantly offered us by what passes in our own minds, and that is the idea of succession / for if we look immediately into our- selves, and reflect on what is observable there, we shall find our ideas alwaj'S, whilst we are awake or have any thought, passing in train, one going and another coming, without intermission." In much the same strain Reid writes : " Extension seems to be a quality suggested to us. We are commonly told by philoso- phers that we get the idea of extension by feeling along the ex- tremities of a body, as if there was no manner of difficulty in the matter. I have sought with great pains, I confess, to find out how this idea can be got bj T feeling, but I have sought in vain." Elsewhere he sa} T s : " Space, whether tangible or visible, is not so properly an object of sense as a necessary concomitant of the objects both of sight and touch." Concomitant differs from direct perception only as to its ob- jects and our mode of viewing them, not at all in the radical character of its own action. We style this perception and its objects indirect, not because they are an}' less immediate than those of other presentational cognitions, but because the attention and interest of the mind are less directly given to them than to the perceptions and ob- jects which the} T accompany. The spectator of a horse-race attends primarily to the animals and their action. In connec- tion with these he perceives — less directly, but no less cer- tainly — the space traversed, the time occupied, and the changing positions of the contestants with reference to one another. Hence we divide his cognitions into the direct and the indirect, or the principal and the concomitant. The objects ^. ^ ne objects of perception in general are the same of concomi- as the elements of existence in general. These may tant percep- , , -, ■, . ,. , tion. Three be enumerated as substance, power, action, change, classes. space, time, quantit} T , and relation. These elements are never perceived save in the complexities which the} T form with one another. The first four may be regarded as the direct, and the last four as the indirect, objects of perception. When a ball is rolled on the ground, we perceive it as (1) a body, (2) en- Chap. XXXVIII.] CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION. 303 dowed with inertia, and (3) exercising a momentum which causes (4) motion, or change of place. At the same time these things are seen as (1) related to one another and to other similar ob- jects, and to (2) space and (3) time, and as having (4) quantity. So, also, if the ball be propelled hy one's own hands, he per- ceives (1) his own soul, and (2) his locomotive energy and (3) its action, and (4) the change in himself from one kind of activ- ity- to another. And these things are seen under their (1) mutual relations, and those of (2) space, (3) time, and (4) quantity. This distinction, however, between modes of cognition refers primarily to the action of the mind, and only secondarily, and in a less rigorous way, to the objects of the cognition. It might especially be a question, in some particular case, whether change, or quantity, were perceived directly or indirectly ; and the ques- tion would be unimportant. The advantage of making our indirect perceptions a special object of stud} T will become particularly apparent from two con- siderations : first, the fact that necessary as toell as contingent relations are, primarily, matters of immediate perception has not hitherto had that prominence which is due to it in philosophy ; and, secondly, it is clear that the cognition of non-existence can have no place in a system of the human mind, unless it also be assigned to the sphere of concomitant perception. For the sake of method in further discussion, the presentations of this power may be regarded as having three classes of objects, and so, with reference to their objects, as being embraced under three heads. Under the first head let us consider the intuitions of space, time, and quantity ; under the second, our perception of relations of whatever kind, including those of contingency and necessity ; and under the third, our cognition of the non- existent and the impossible of every kind of entity. The objects of the first class are perceived in con- and^quan- nection with relations which depend on them, yet they tlty - themselves are not relations : they are fundamenta between which and other fundamenta relations exist. To say, with Leibnitz and others, that " space is an order of co-exist- ences, and time an order of successions," rcmy be profound^ philo- sophical ; but it is a violation of common sense. Space and time are the antecedent conditions of co-existence and of succession. Moreover, not only are things related to these entities, but such relations may, in their turn, become the fundamenta of new relations. Two fields, as occupjing certain positions, are related to space ; and b} T reason of these positions, the}- may be contiguous to, or separated from, each other. The lives of two men are each related to those periods of time during which they 304 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVIII. are passed ; and by reason of these relations, they may be con- temporaneous with one another, or the contrary. Two bodies each contain a fixed quantity of matter ; and with reference to their respective quantities, they are equal, or unequal, to each other. Space, with its relations, is especially perceived in connection with body and its changes. Exact measurements of space are possible for us only through the use of material standards ; yet spatial perceptions take place also in connection with the ex- periences of spirit. On the other hand, time is perceived espe- cially in connection with the changes which occur in our own souls. Being conscious at once of the enduring sameness of the ego itself and of its fleeting states and operations, we cannot but notice that peculiar kind of entity in relation to which some things are permanent and others transitory. But bod} 7 , no less than spirit, is intuitively seen as a permanent entity with tran- sitory states ; therefore, we doubt not, time is immediately perceived in connection with the existence and the changes of the non-ego. The term Here we must remark that in the doctrine of im- in P pbli e oso- mediate perception the term "present" should not pky- be limited absolutely to one point of duration, but should include so much time as may be occupied by an} 7 act or object of unbroken attention. We claim for the mind a power to perceive immediately the continuity of time as well as the continuity of space ; and we include this among our presenta- tional perceptions. This is no violation of ordinary thought and language. On the contrary, it is unnatural to call a continuous perception of the continued present a recollection of the past. This ability to perceive the continued must be admitted if there be any such thing as an intuition of time. It may be regarded as the initial exercise of that power which develops itself into memory ; in which light it furnishes a key, perhaps the only pos- sible key, to an understanding of the faculty of reminiscence. The element of quantity is so intimately united in existence and perception with the other elements of entity, that only some special analysis, caused by the comparison of quanta, or things as having quantity, makes it a distinct object of thought. For this reason the perception of it does not have the character of concomitance to the same degree as the perception of space and time. But when two things — for example, two weights — alike in every respect save quantity, are compared and found to differ, then we give this name to that in respect to which the} 7 differ. We perceive, also, that the possession of quantity is the foundation for certain relations between things. It is as quanta Chap. XXXVIII.] CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION. 305 that things are greater or less or equal in respect to each other, and are capable of number and of diminution and increase. -„- Here we may ask whether our first perceptions are Have we an J _. . n L L intuition of confined to things of a limited nature, or do we have the infinite? an intuition of the infinite? In regard to this point we remark, first, that knowledge need not be intuitive in order to be reliable. By far the greater part of human knowledge is not intuitive ; the presentational charac- ter is not necessary to the certainty of knowledge. Many, how- ever, assuming more or less explicitly that the infinite cannot be known inferentially, have constructed doctrines as to the cogni- tion of the infinite that are difficult to comprehend, and yet more difficult to accept. The student of such doctrines should be pardoned if at times he become weary of philosoplry, or at least of philosophers. But the discussion of these teachings has this merit, that it prepares one to accept some theory by which the cognition of the infinite may be accounted for as a constructive and inferen- tial perception. Therefore we remark, secondly, that we find no serious objection to such a theory of inferential perception, and that, on the contrary, there is something unnatural, if not absurd, in ascribing the intuition of things infinite to finite crea- tures such as we are. It is certain that the knowledge of finite things greater than ourselves results from the employment of standards of measurement found in our own souls and bodies ; in this way we attain to the cognition of things unspeakably great. Ma}' we not, then, in this manner become acquainted with things absolutely boundless ? The infinite is that which is so great, in any one or more re- spects, as to be ^immeasurable by any standard. Take the per- ception of infinite space. In connection with the motion of our limbs we learn that if there be no obstructing power, body may move without hindrance in any direction and to an}' distance. We perceive that this is necessary by reason of the very nature of space. Thereupon, combining negative with positive think- ing, we conceive and believe in a space which admits in every direction of endless motion, and which itself is limitless. In precisely the same way we recognize a duration without begin- ning and without end. Then, with but another step, we con- ceive of a Being whose presence fills immensity, whose life is eternal, whose power is the ultimate origin of all finite potency, and whose existence solves the mysteries of creation and provi- dence. We admit that finite beings cannot attain to any ex- haustive knowledge of the infinite ; we allow that no human, no angelic, mind can " find out the Almighty to perfection." But 20 306 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVIII. finite understandings can and do form true conceptions and convictions concerning boundless space and endless time and the infinite God. Relations. 3 - Tlie perception of relations is a very important Their pereep- part of intellectual action, and is equally concomitant 1. As matters of consciousness and of sense-perception. All things of fact; 2. As exist as related to one another, and as bound together matters ot . . , . & contingency in necessary or logical relations. and necessity. Relations have been described as intermediate en- tities ; but, literally speaking, nothing exists between things related. The intermediacy pertains to our modes of conception, and not to the things conceived of. Even' simple or single relation may be regarded as composed of two relationships, each of which belongs to and characterizes a relatum ; and every relationship ma}' be styled a sort of correspondence or opposi- tion in the nature of one thing to that of another. Relations exist between things viewed simply as entities, be- tween the seven fundamental entities or their subordinate varie- ties, and between relations themselves. This class of objects, therefore, exhibit endless diversity and complexity. At present we are concerned with the perception of relations ; and this, in common with the cognition of every other form of being, may be considered as twofold. First of all, we may perceive a thing simply as fact ; and, secondly, we may perceive it as contin- gently or as necessarily fact — that is, in other words and more briefly, we ma}' perceive its contingency, or necessity. So w*e may perceive a relation simply as a fact, and we may recog- nize it as contingent or as necessary. Few will dispute that the relations belonging to the direct objects of the soul's immediate apprehension are also immediately apprehended, — that is, so far as their simple reality is concerned. I perceive at once the relations of a leaden ball which I hold, — for example, its contiguity and likeness to another ball beside it, its place in my hand, and the relations involved in its shape, size, weight, unity, mobility, and so forth. But when we come to inquire how far these perceived rela- tions may be contingent and how far necessary, it ma}' be claimed that our judgments regarding these aspects of things are not properly perceptions at all, but merely suggestions which the mind cannot but make, but which nevertheless ma)' or may not be true. This is the teaching of Kant when he speaks of the a priori origin of various judgments and notions, and contrasts them with a posteriori judgments and notions. For example, he says that our ideas of space and time, and our necessary judgments concerning them, are a priori, — that is, independent Chap. XXXVIII.] CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION. 307 of experience, and of the knowledge that experience gives of things without. For, with Kant, experience is really identical with our per- ception of things external. Thus, according to him, our a priori notions and judgments have no necessaiy objective truth, — that is, no necessaiy truth at all. Such teaching is unsatisfactory. The terms a priori and a posteriori, as applied to our per- ceptions of the ontologically necessaiy and the ontologically contingent, should be banished forever from the use of phi- losophy. Their effect is to confuse our thoughts in regard to the true action of the perceptive power. There is a difference in perceptions ; but this arises, not because some ideas are suggested from within and others obtained from without, — not because some thoughts are subjective forms and others true cognitions, — but because the things perceived are themselves different from each other. All our cognitions are equally the mind's own work, and re- sult from the exercise of intellectual power, — all are percep- tions of realities ; but in some we perceive the existence of things and their relations merely as matter of fact, while in others we perceive it as necessary or as contingent fact. Therefore, also, whatever priority our perceptions of ontological necessity or contingency may have over those of simple fact, is not subjec- tive, but objective, — it is logical rather than psychological ; our distinction between these things arises primarily from the nature of the things distinguished, and only secondarily from the na- ture of mind as being able to perceive correctly things and their differences. Contingency The immediate cognition of things merely as exist- an . d necessity [ n g mav be divided, with a sort of equality, between concomitant direct and concomitant perception ; but that of the perception. contingency or of the necessity of any matter of fact belongs to concomitant perception only. That the space occu- pied by an}' particular bod} 7 necessarily exists, and that the body necessarily is an occupant of space, are things perceived immediately, but not directly. That the body does not neces- sarily occupy the space it is in, but may move into some other space, and that a neighboring body of the same size may occupy the space left vacant, are contingent truths perceived in the same way. These perceptions of necessity and of contingency are not properly included within sense-perception. Contingency and necessity, which we have now given as ob- jects to concomitant perception, may be regarded as relations between the existence of things or relations, and the circum- stances with which this existence is accompanied. A thing is 308 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXVIII. necessary or contingent in its relation with other things, accord- ing as its existence is or is not so united to that of the other things that no power can break the connection. It is on the im- mediate perception of the necessity and contingency of relations that general axiomatic propositions and postulates are based. For what is true either contingently or necessarily in one case is similarly true in all similar cases. The cognition ^' ^ e now P ass *° ^ ne co g n ^ion of non-existence. of non-exist- Concerning this, we say, first, that it is a true cogni- tion. Non-existence is a subject about which correct views are more easily formed than uttered. Thought and lan- guage refer principally to the existent, and to non-existence merely in an occasional and subordinate way. Ordinary forms of expression properly appry to existence only, and When applied to non-existence, sometimes present an appearance of contradiction and absurdit} T . Nevertheless, both common sense and sound philosoplrv attest that we have as truly a perception of non- existence as of existence ; that these things are totally different from one another ; and that neither of them can be resolved into the other, or even into mere distinction from the other. They are objects which we distinguish because thej are different. Here we strain language when we call existence and non- existence things or objects ; they are not things in the ordinary sense of the word. Yet when we thus speak of them, we do not use meaningless or untruthful language. Though not ob- jects, thej T have, in some sense, an objectuality ; and, in par- ticular, non-existence, because it is that which existence is not, has also a peculiar character of its own. Let two parallel planes be apart ; we say that there is space between them : let them meet ; we sa}^ that there is no space between them. In this latter case the assertion of " no space," or of the non-existence of space, is as objectively true as the assertion of space, or of the existence of space, in the former case. The importance of the thought of non-existence arises from a twofold fact. In the first place, this thought can combine with the formal conception of ever} T entity, so as to constitute a neg- ative conception, corresponding to the positive conception in which existence is the constitutive thought ; and, secondly, all belief and conviction pertain to these two modes of conception, the positive and the negative. We can believe only in the exist- ence or in the non-existence of things. Our original cognition of non-existence ma} T , in the truest sense, be styled concomitant or consequent. This perception attends every mode of change and disappearance which occurs within the sphere of intuitive knowledge. Let one be conscious Chap. XXXVIII.] CONCOMITANT PERCEPTION. 309 of some pleasure, or other psychical experience, which passes away and is numbered among the things that are not. He re- tains a knowledge of the past existence of this pleasure, but with respect to the present he has no such knowledge. On the contrary, he perceives that the experience does not now exist ; and, combining the formal conception of the thing perceived with the notion of non-existence, he declares it to be a non- entity. Or let some physical phenomenon — for example, a sound — affect the senses : it is perceived as existing ; but when it ceases, its non-existence is also perceived. Moreover, as the necessity of the existent is often intuition - ally known, so also is the impossibility of the non-existent. Let a man transfer a ball from his right hand to his left. He will forthwith perceive the impossibility that the ball should be in his right hand and in his left at the same time. Such immediate cognitions of the impossible may be regarded as the starting- points for our inferential perceptions of non-existence. We shall conclude our discussion of concomitant intuition with one general observation. It is that perceptions of this power accompany, and in a sense are consequent upon, not only those of sense-perception and consciousness, but those also of concomitant perception itself; in this way, doubtless, the mind builds up and perfects its presentative knowledge of things. For example, we believe that the different members of the bod}' are immediately perceived as in different parts of space, and therefore as external to one another. But how much more distinct and exact this knowledge becomes when one part of the bod}' is made to touch another externally, as when a hand grasps an arm or is made to pass over one's forehead ! Then each part is sensible of the other as external to it ; the boundaries of each become definitely known. In some such way as this, we suppose, the infant gradually forms a correct conception of his own bod}' as a material sub- stance of a definite size, shape, and consistency. Thus, too, the mind becomes prepared for the intelligent cognition of solid substances wholly external to the body ; which cognition is not properly intuitive, but inferential!}' consequent upon the knowl- edge of our own bodies and their attributes. 310 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIX. CHAPTER XXXIX. COMPOUND AND ACQUIRED PERCEPTION. The under- 1. A satisfactory understanding of acquired per- compound f ception will be promoted if we notice, and distinguish antecedent from it, a form of cognition closefy related to it, and acquired, which also should be considered for its own sake, perception We re f er to that act of the intellect whereby the im- mediate perceptions of the same object by two or more different senses are combined into one perception, which combination is itself an act of intuitive and concomitant cognition. This compounded perception differs from acquired percep- tion, because there is no inference in it ; the knowledge which it 3"ields is presentationally given ; but it is related to acquired perception, because it is the source whence the constructions of thought and the rules of inference emploj'ed in acquired perception are originally obtained. These remarks may be illustrated from the experience of a boy born blind, whose eye was couched for cataract by an Eng- lish surgeon. After he had somewhat gained the use of his sight, he could not call the cat and the dog by their right names, or tell which was the cat and which the dog. But, being easily able to recognize each by the sense of feeling, he caught the cat one day, and, shutting his eyes, passed his hands over her, so as to ascertain which animal he had been seeing. Then, setting her down, he said, " So, puss, I shall know you another time." In this case two cognitions of the same object were intuitive and independent of one another, and their union resulted from an identification, also intuitive, of the object of the one with the object of the other ; for the cat, as seen and as felt, presented relations of place and movement, of causation and simultaneity, which could not belong to two objects. The whole perception of the cat as an object with certain visible and certain tactual marks was an intuitive, though a compound, act of cognition. At the same time it is evident that this immediate cognition prepared the mind making it for another perception in which a mere exercise of sight would enable the bo} T to supply the tac- tual character of the object, or in which the mere handling of Chap. XXXIX.] COMPOUND PERCEPTION. 311 the animal would enable him to ascribe to it a certain visible appearance ; and either of these perceptions would be properly an acquired one. In like manner, should one perceive quick- silver to be a heavy fluid by clipping his hand in it, his identifi- cation of the quicksilver as seen with the quicksilver as felt would be intuitive ; and this would be the basis of an inferential perception from sight alone of the heavy fluidity of that metal. Compound perception being thus a condition of acquired per- ception, a consideration of the former is our best introduction to a consideration of the latter. First, then, we remark that compound perception is the be- ginning of any adequate knowledge of things external. Till we unite into one whole the partial cognitions of a thing presented by the different senses, we can scarcely be said to have any comprehension of an external object. But things internal, which are the objects of consciousness, cannot be said to be known by a composition of perceptions, in- asmuch as they are perceived lry a cognition which is complex, but which is not compounded of cognitions from different sources. Again, let us note that compound, in separation from acquired, perception is adequate for the complete cognition of compara- tively few objects, and, like the more simple intuitions of which it is composed, is more easily illustrated bj* examples that are not wholly intuitional than by those which exhibit its own workings only. The latter are mostly of a subtile character, and are not matters of ordinary observation. This mode of procedure will not be objectionable provided the illustration, in its essential feature, shows a composition of intuitions. My perception of the apple which I hold in my hand may not be purely presentational. Nevertheless, the eye immediately perceives it as a circular colored object, in a certain direction from the centre of vision ; the hand recognizes a round smooth object, of a certain weight and hardness ; while the nose discerns it as an odoriferous, and the tongue as a sapid, substance. Moreover, the peculiar taste is experienced only when the object held in the hand touches the tongue ; the odor becomes faint and is lost when it is re- moved from the nostrils ; and when the hand moves hither and thither, the apple correspondingly changes its place and direc- tion in the field of vision. These things are perceived intuitively ; and in connection with them we learn, b}' intuition, that the object held in the hand, that which we see, that which we feel, that which we smell, and that which we taste, are all one and the same. But other particulars about this apple — for exam- ple, its solidity and its distance from the eye — ma}- not be intuitively known. 312 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XXXIX. The purest exercise of compound perception, and nate knowi- " the most important, takes place when the infantile owffbod™ 6 ' 8 mm d fi f st forms definite conceptions of the members of his own body, and of the body as a whole. This, doubtless, is a gradual accomplishment, and results principally from an attentive exercise of the senses of touch and sight, in connection with muscular and organic feelings. The latter pre- sent the body and each of its parts as extended, as solid, and as possessed of physical power ; they give also an indistinct notion of the location of the parts with reference to one another. Then touch and sight give definiteness to the rudimental perceptions of internal feeling. Of the two, touch may be considered to operate first. When one little hand grasps in succession the fingers and the thumb, the palm and the wrist, of the other, the boundaries of each member and its size become definitely known. In the same way the features of the face and other parts of the body are touched and bounded. But this determination is greatly assisted by sight. While touch slowly traverses the surface of a limb, sight perceives it all at once ; and the eye easily combines into one exact conception the explorations of the hand. In doing so, the superficial extent of portions of the body as ascertained by feeling, being immediately identified with the same as seen, any limb furnishes a standard for the measurement of the whole body. For this reason the estimation of size and distance by sight, even as regards one's own bod}', is only partially intuitive. In this connection let us notice an interesting dis- ill 6 CO "!!!- ^ tion of the cussion respecting our perception of externality. The world" n r however, true that the memory of human beings firmed or dis- is not exercised apart from their reason or iudgment, annulled but continually in conjunction with the latter facukry ; and the relations arising from this fact are very important. Judgment ma} T confirm or disannul remembrances ; it may scrutinize and test the action of memoiy ; it may intermingle and combine its own inferences with remembered facts ; and it may control and direct the mind in the effort to remember things forgotten. A great influence is exerted in these several ways. First, judgment confirms or disannuls remembrances. This happens only when the alleged fact is not remembered perfectly. In that case, to terminate doubt, the fact supposed to be remem- bered may be regarded in its external relations, and we may find good reason to believe that such an event must or must not have taken place. For instance, we ma}^ find that certain necessaiy consequences of it are or are not visible. If one during the night-time had seen a great fire at a short distance, and on the next morning were not sure that he had not been dreaming, his memory would be confirmed if he should find the blackened and smoking remains of some large building in the neighborhood to which his recollection pointed. If no such remains could be found, he would conclude that he had been only dreaming. 332 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLI. 2. Reason I n the next place, judgment xn^y scrutinize the mayscruti- action of memory and the degree of its reliability. nize and test ml . . , . ^ , . . ■., the action of I his is clone whenever a remembrance is intentionally memory. an( j deliberately repeated, and so subjected to the notice of a reflective and attentive consciousness. Under such conditions we may become sure that our conviction really arises from memory, and is not a delusion of fear or hope or passion or interest ; and we can determine with what amount of confidence we really remember a thing, whether with full assurance or with doubt and hesitation. Then, also, we may compare our recollec- tion with other recollections and beliefs, and may inquire whether there be any likelihood of our having erroneously combined the elements of our acquired knowledge. Let one remember a portrait on the wall of a certain drawing- room, and have the doubtful impression that the picture which he saw was a Madonna. He can now ask whether his idea of the Madonna may not have been obtained from some other pic- ture that he has seen elsewhere, and wrongly substituted in his present recollection for that of Beatrice, or some other lady. If he have seen no such picture in similar surroundings, his recollection is probably a correct one. A remembrance is also confirmed or rejected by testing its power to excite other remembrances. When our attention is fixed on a fact, the redintegrative tendency operates to recall particulars connected with it, so that a little study ma} 7 bring before us all the prominent features of some scene or transaction in which we have been once interested. In this wa} r circum- stances naturally connected with the point regarding which we are in doubt are frequently brought to mind ; whereas, if no effort can recall additional or confirmatory circumstances, there is increased reason to distrust the recollection. For this cause witnesses in courts of law are often required to confirm their testiinoiry concerning some fact by relating, so far as they may, the time, place, and circumstances of its occurrence ; and, in general, testimony is the more acceptable, the more detailed and circumstantial it may be. In the third place, judgment intermingles and com- timation of bines its own beliefs with those furnished immediately mTnVcom- ^J memory, and thus performs an important function, bines with Next to the doctrine that memor} r is an original and How°such immediate source of knowledge, none other is so in- estimates dispensable to a satisfactory understanding of this faculty as the doctrine that memory has a develop- ment, and that, in addition to the essential power of the repro- duction of old cognitions and beliefs, there is an acquired Chap. XLL] MEMORY. 333 memory, which is related to the original and simple power some- what as original is to acquired perception. This developed or acquired memory is that which we commonly exercise, is what we commonly call memory, and, while including an immediate knowledge, contains a considerable admixture of what is ra- tional and logical. The mystery and difficulty wiiich many an able thinker has encountered, in connection with the philosophy of remembrance, have arisen from his failure to trace the work- ings of the recollective faculty to their first beginnings, and to comprehend the duplex character of them as cognitions. The initial exercise of memoiy takes place in immediate con- nection with the perception of things as existing in time, and is scarcely distinguishable from the operation of the perceptive power. One can perceive time only as passing ; the very cog- nition of things as existing in the present must be accompanied by the knowledge of them as existing in the immediate past. These two modes of cognition are inseparably connected, and together form what ma}' be denominated a perception of the con- tinued present. In this perception we gain those conceptions of time and of the relations of time, which are involved in every act of memory. Here, too, the mind obtains those measures of duration which it afterwards applies. The first memories of the infant are very imperfect. Its powers of attention and discrimination are feeble ; and its in- terest is wholly occupied with the immediate present. Even after the mind has commenced to remember things with some distinctness, and to realize how memoiy differs from both per- ception and imagination, our judgment as to the time of past events remains indefinite. Any one acquainted with little chil- dren knows their incapacity to tell the time of occurrences which they remember. The infant probably begins his measurement of duration while noticing short sensible events which succeed each other with regularity. The footsteps of the nurse, her monotonous song, the rocking of the cradle, or the successive breathings of the child itself mark the passing moments. The remembrance of a number of such events together — of as man}^ steps as the nurse takes in crossing the room, of the syllables composing one stanza of her song, of a succession of cradle rock- ings, or of a number of excited breathings after being laid clown from the nurse's arms — would 3'ield a further measurement of time, and prepare for greater judgments. Before mairy years our earlier measurement of duration is succeeded b} r observation of the time consumed b}' regular arti- ficial movements; and so seconds, minutes, hours — marked by the ticking of pendulums, or the movements of hands over the 334 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLL face of a timepiece, or the creeping of the shadow on the dial, or the falling of sand through the hour-glass — are learned and accepted as definite portions of duration. Thus, by different immediate judgments, we determine the duration of such regular processes, natural and artificial, as submit themselves to our continuous attention. After that we use such phenomena as standards, whereb} T we maj 7 determine with accurac} 7 the dura- tion of other things. But, the measurement of the time of any standard event being once perfected, the time occupied by its subsequent recurrence ma} T be recognized inferentially, and may be inferentially applied to an} r other event contemporaneous with it. Having once at- tained to the conception of a day as that length of time which is occupied by the diurnal revolution of the earth, there is no need that we should again measure the successive portions of the day. We ma}' sleep during part of the twent3 r -four hours, and during the remaining part may give no special attention to the passage of time ; yet we can know that one day only has passed, if there have been onl} T one alternation of darkness and light. In short, our determination of the time occupied by past events, and of the time which may have transpired since their occurrence, is mostly made by means of inferences in which length of time, as measured by reference to some regular and well-known phenomenon, is assigned to the transactions that we have more immediately in view. When we remember that such or such an event happened a da} T , or a week, or a year ago, this remembrance, like the perception of distance by sight, involves the use of rules wiiich have been gained in a past experience. Fourthty, and finally, judgment controls and assists guides fhe en memon T in the effort to recall things forgotten. The recollect reproduction of belief, as well as the reproduction of thought, is to a certain extent subject to the influence of the will ; and with reference to this fact, memory has been divided into the spontaneous and the intentional. We cannot recall what is not connected with our present thought, nor even that of which we do not already have some conception. But it is often possible to recall the forgotten partic- ulars of some scene or transaction which we partially remember. The intellectual effort in which this end is accomplished is named recollection, because it is a collecting again of things into one's conscious knowledge. In this process the mind appeals to the laws of the reproduction of thought. We dwell on the partial remembrance and wait, expecting a redintegra- tion. If this do not take place soon, then we try one form of Chap.XLIL] the cultivation of memory. 355 completion after another till at last some happy conjecture, nearer the truth than the rest, recalls the particulars desired ; for airv past cognition is reproduced with special ease whenever our present thought may be similar to it. Having forgotten the name of some bo\", we have not, of course, forgotten that he has a name ; therefore we try first one name and then another, till at last, striking the right name, or one similar to it, recollec- tion takes place. Such is a very frequent method of intentional memoiy. JBat often we seek the forgotten, not through the similar merely, but through that also which may have been in any way asso- ciated, in past cognition, with the object of our search. For instance, if one were desirous of recalling some remarkable saying of another's, he might dwell on the occasion of the utter- ance, on the temper and aims which animated the speaker, on the compaii3 T which he addressed, and on the general character of the discourse, and might hope that the remark might be sug- gested through its connection with some of these things ; for any recollection tends to revive that which has previously been associated with the fact which we recollect. CHAPTER XLn. THE CULTIVATION OF MEMORY. Circumstan- -*-• There is no more faithful index of a man's intellec- tiai and tual character than the style which his memory spontane- methodical ously assumes. Some persons naturally have a penetrating strength of mind, which immediately lays hold of the im- portant particulars of some transaction, neglecting the rest, which talent is for the most part developed by use and education ; other persons are greatly deficient in this respect. Accordingly, some mem- ories are merely receptive ; the particulars of any event or scene are recalled by them indiscriminately, and are mentioned in the evident, obvious relations of time and place: while other memories, as if guided by an instinctive judgment, bring up only those particulars which are appropriate to the occasion or conducive to some desired end. Lord Karnes excellently describes the diffusive and circumstantial style of memory. "In the minds of some persons," he says, ''thoughts and circumstances crowd upon each other by the slightest connections. I ascribe this to a bluntness in the discerning faculty ; for a person who cannot accurately distinguish between a slight connection and one that is more intimate is equally affected by each. Such a person must necessarily have a great flow of ideas, because they are introduced by 336 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIL any relation indifferently; and the slighter relations, being without number, furnish ideas without end." The same author calls attention to that humorous illustration of vulgar memory which Shakspeare has given in the speech of Mrs. Quickly to Sir John Falstaff. "What," said the knight, "is the gross sum that I owe thee V " His hostess replied: " Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself, and thy money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblei, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Whitsun-week, when the prince broke thy head for likening his father to a singing- man of Windsor ; thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not good wife Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then, and call me gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns; whereby thou didst desire to eat some ; whereby 1 told thee they were ill for a green wound? And didst thou not, when she was gone down-stairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity with such poor people ; saying that ere long they should call me madam? And didst thou not kiss me, and bid me fetch thee thirty shillings ? I put thee now to thy book-oath : deny it if thou canst." A similar particularity is exhibited by the coachman in " Scriblerus," who, giving an account of a fight, runs through all the categories of Aristotle: "Two men fought for a prize: one was a fair man, a sergeant in the Guards; the other black, a butcher. The sergeant had red trousers; the butcher blue. They fought upon a stage, about four o'clock, and the sergeant wounded the butcher in the leg." In contrast with the foregoing, a skilled and methodical recollection may be illustrated from Mark Antony's oration over the dead body of Caesar, in which every circumstance calculated to excite the sympathy of his hearers is artfully recalled ; — You all do know this mantle : I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii. Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through: See what a rent the envious Casca made : Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb'd; And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Cassar follow'd it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar lov'd him! This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Ca?sar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Quite vanquish' d him : then burst his mighty heart; 4 And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey's statue, Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.*' A similar skilful selection of circumstances characterizes every good description of familiar scenes. "The Cotter's Saturday Night," by Chap. XLII] THE CULTIVATION OF MEMORY. 337 Burns, and the "Elegy in a Village Churchyard," by Gray, both largely composed from recollections, contain excellent illustrations. 2. Had we time to discuss other modes of memory analo- of h a 2ood ieS gous to those just considered, it would be interesting to memory. notice the effect of one's prevailing temperament, of his How culti- regular business, or of his chief interests and inclinations, upon the current of his recollections. But we shall now pass to the contemplation of those characteristics upon which the usefulness of one's remembrances, whatever be their objective character, immediately depends. These are three in number, — namely, ease of acquisition, strength of retention, and readiness of repro- duction. The memories of different minds differ greatly in all these respects, partly by reason of their natural constitution, and partly by reason of their acquired habits; and it is seldom that any one mind excels in all these particulars at once. Very often those who memorize with facility do not long retain what they have learned; and often those whose memories are suffi- ciently retentive find it difficult to recall instantly circumstances which they desire to mention. This separation of qualities does not take place necessarily, but is owing to a variety of causes. A person who learns easily is not compelled to any great or prolonged exercise of the attention, and frequently on this account fails to secure his acquisi- tions. This deficiency generally may be supplied if he repeat to him- self what he desires to remember, and make it a special subject of consideration and of recollective effort. As a rule, we retain only that which we have acquired with some effort and attention. The late Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton said to his sons, "What you know, know thoroughly;" and added: "There are few instances in modern times of a rise equal to that of Sir Edward Sugden. After one of the Weymouth elections I was shut up with him in a carriage for twenty-four hours. I ventured to ask him what was the secret of his success. His answer was: 'I resolved, when beginning to read law, to make everything I acquired perfectly my own, and never to go to a second thing till I had entirely accomplished the first. Many of my competitors read as much in a day as I read in a week; but at the end of twelve months my knowledge was as fresh as on the day it was acquired, while theirs had glided away from their recollection/" The difficulty which many experience in recalling what they cer- tainly know is not always easily remedied. It arises from a slowness of mind which is often natural, but which is also produced by various depressing or retarding influences. This difficulty will be lessened by the systematic exercise of recollection; but it is to be counteracted chiefly by the cultivation of a cheerful and collected frame of spirit, by the maintenance of bodily freshness and vigor, and by a wise par- ticipation in that social intellectual intercourse which brings our fac- ulties into lively exercise. Stupidity and dulness sometimes take possession of the most successful student. Let him quit his books ; let him seek the open air and the scenery of nature; let him devote himself for a time to practical affairs; let him mingle with the life of men. He will return to his studies with new zest, and with a sur- prising increase of mental activity. 22 338 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLII. The faculty ^^ e doctrine nas been taught by some that the faculties or invention of invention and of memory never exist together in the as related same mind to any eminent degree. It is true that the ex- Lord Kames elusive or special cultivation of either of these faculties, and Proles- while the other is comparatively neglected, tends to lessen quoted Wart the uncultivated ability. " A man of accurate judgment," says Lord Karnes, "cannot have a great flow of ideas, be- cause the slighter relations, making no figure in his mind, have no power to introduce ideas. And hence it is that accurate judgment is not friendly to declamation or copious eloquence. This reasoning is confirmed by experience ; for it is a noted observation that a great or comprehensive memory is seldom connected with a good judgment." The first sentence in this passage may be too unqualified; in many men the exercise of sound judgment does not interfere perceptibly with correct and ready memory. Yet that inteuse and peculiar thought which belongs to inventive and speculative minds undoubt- edly tends to carelessness and incapacity in all matters of mere acqui- sition and reproduction. Hence men of philosophical genius often pre- sent a poor appearance in comparison with others whose talent is of a lower grade, and sometimes even are hesitating and uncertain with re- spect to questions which they themselves have investigated and settled. An extreme readiness and confidence in expounding the details of any system indicate rather the faithful disciple and the able advocate than the master himself. Professor Stewart remarks that "they who are possessed of much acuteness and originality enter with difficulty into the views of others, because they cannot adopt opinions which they have not examined, and because their attention is often seduced by their own speculations;" then he continues: " It is not merely in the acquisition of knowledge that a man of genius is likely to find himself surpassed by others : he has commonly his information much less at command than those who are possessed of an inferior degree of originality; and, what is somewhat remarkable, he has it least of all at command on those subjects on which he has found his invention most fertile. " Sir Isaac Newton, as we are told by Dr. Femberton, was often at a loss when the conversation turned on his own discoveries. It is probable that they made but a slight impression on his mind, and that a consciousness of his inventive powers prevented him from taking much pains to treasure them up in his memory. ... A man of orig- inal genius, who is fond of exercising his reasoning powers anew on every point as it occurs to him, and who cannot submit to rehearse the ideas of others, or to repeat by rote the conclusions which he has deduced from previous reflection, often appears, to superficial observers, to fall below the level of ordinary understandings; while another, destitute of both quickness and invention, is admired for that promp- titude in his decisions which arises from the inferiority of his under- standing." These observations contain comfort for some earnest and independent thinkers; but they should not be interpreted as teaching that slowness of recollection is a mark of genius. Notable ex- Many examples of notable memory are recorded in his- amples of tory. Till the decay of Pascal's health had impaired his memory. memory, he is said to have "forgotten nothing of what he Chap. XLIL] THE CULTIVATION OF MEMORY. 339 had done, read, or thought in any part of his rational age." Niebuhr, according to his biographer, " mastered languages and sciences, signs and the things signified, with equal ease, and with such certainty that with the mind's eye he saw each in its own individuality, separate from its fellows, and yet intimately and variously related to them. His memory was equally retentive of perceptions and of thoughts, of views and feelings, of sights and sounds; whatever came within the sphere of his recognition took up its due relative position in his mind with equal certainty and precision." The late Dr. Addison Alexander was able to repeat a discourse verbatim after one reading; and on one occasion, a considerable matriculation list of students having been mislaid, he immediately made out another from memory. Hortensius, the Roman orator, at the close of a large auction sale, could enumerate all the articles sold in their order, together with the prices paid, and the names of the purchasers. " Nature," says Cicero, 44 gave Hortensius so happy a memory that he never had need of com- mitting to writing any discourse which he had meditated, while, after his opponent had finished speaking, he could recall, word by word, not only what the other had said, but also the authorities which had been cited against himself." Caesar, and other great military leaders, both of ancient and of modern times, have been remarkable for being able to recall the name and the exploits of every officer or soldier who had ever distinguished himself in their armies. It is related that Alex- ander the Great knew the name and face of every individual in his army of thirty thousand men. A fellow-student of the father of the present writer had the whole of the New Testament so thoroughly learned by heart that, on the mention of any sentence, he could give the chapter and verse where it is to be found, and, on the numbers of chapter and verse being given, he could repeat the words thus called for. In ancient times the prac- tice of committing literary productions to memory was more common than it is at the present day, when reading is universal and books are plentiful; and it resulted in achievements which would now be con- sidered more remarkable than they were considered then. The two great poems of Homer, each containing twenty-four books and about fifteen thousand lines, were probably composed before 4 'the art of writing and the use of manageable writing materials were known in Greece and the Grecian islands;" and it is certain that they were fully committed to memory by ' 4 rhapsodists," who recited them for the entertainment of others. A very wonderful exercise of memory was exhibited by Morphy, the chess-player of New Orleans. This man sat alone in one room in a New York hotel, while six of the best players in that city sat in an adjoining room, each with a chess-board before him. The six players severally made moves at their pleasure; and each move, when made, was announced to Morphy through an open door. With very little hesitation he directed another move in the game reported from ; and so he continued playing till he had beaten the greater number of his antagonists, one or two coming off with drawn games. Such a feat is most extraordinary; it reminds one of those wonderful calculators who, using memory instead of slate and pencil, perform complicated 340 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLTI. arithmetical problems in their heads. These are prodigies whom the Creator sends into the world that we may see what a marvellous thing the human mind is, and of what undreamt-of accomplishments it is capable. Theimprov- 3. Men of ordinary talent cannot hope to equal the at- abiiity of tainments of genius. They should satisfy themselves with memory. ^he re fl ec tion that extraordinary powers are not essential to honorable success. Yet those who would pass their lives to the most advantage, and who would participate in that nobility which intellect- ual advancement confers, should remember that the powers of the mind are more capable of development than those of the body, and that, of all our mental endowments, memory is the most improvable. This is particularly noticeable in the education of children, who at first are incapable of learning even the shortest verses, but who soon show themselves able for considerable lessons. Presently all the rules and methods, forms and paradigms, of grammars and arithmetics, are mastered; the mind is stored with the facts of history and geography and with the principles and illustrations of science, while whole pages of poetry and oratory are so studied that they become part of one's mental furniture, and are rehearsed with ease. Moreover, in subse- quent life, should one's position call for the regular use of memory, a command of this faculty is gained rapidly by means of practice. In certain denominations of Christians young ministers are expected first to write out and then to commit to memory the sermon for Sabbath morning; and it is the common experience of such that this work, laborious at first, soon becomes easy. One or two attentive readings fixes an imprint of the discourse upon the mind. Men, too, who are accustomed to employ their memory receive a pewiliar satisfaction from the exercise of this faculty, and resort to it as a means of mental discipline and enjoyment. This was a pleasure of Lord Macaulay, a man whose memory resembled that of Pascal. In October, 1857, after he had retired from public life, and in great part from literary composition, he writes: "I walked in the portico and learned by heart the noble* fourth act of the 'Merchant of Venice.' There are four hundred lines, of which I knew a hundred and fifty. I made myself perfect master of the whole, the prose letter included, in two hours." About this same time he committed long passages from Lucretius, Catullus, and Martial. Also, having studied the Peerage at odd moments, he "could soon repeat off book the entire roll of the House of Lords; " then, taking up the Cambridge and Oxford Calen- dars, he soon "had the whole of the University Fasti by heart." " An idle thing," he adds; "but I wished to try whether my memory is as strong as it used to be, and I perceive no decay." Natural mne- Faithful commemorizations and frequent rehearsals may monies. The be depended upon as the principal means for the permanent aid given improvement of the memory. But we must add that the prope°rar- y recollective faculty may receive great immediate assistance rangement from our arranging in our minds the particulars of any tionof^d 60 given case in some orderly connection ; and that this pro- 5 " cess tends also to a happy development of the reproductive faculty. The mind loves to act according to some law; therefore it Chap. XLIL] THE CULTIVATION OF MEMORY. 341 loves order, for order is an arrangement of things according to a rule or law. Any one accustomed to master the details of comprehensive topics can testify that these details are recalled much more easily and completely if they have been arranged according to some one or more of the natural principles of order. An order of recollection may be derived from the succession of events in time, or from the position of things in space, or from that similarity and difference of objects whereby they are thrown into logical classes, or from a continuous connection of cause and effect, or from association with other things that have a fixed order, or from grades of importance or of excellence, or from degrees in the possession of any quality, or from a combination of any two or more of these grounds of arrangement. The order of time is observed in the composition of chronicles or annals, in which no further departure takes place from simple successiveness than the nature of the history absolutely necessi- tates. Most private narratives, also, are constructed on this principle. The order of place applies to the description of any territory and its contents. Thus a farmer might describe his property by mentioning the different fields in succession as they lie in rows running east and west, and the various farm buildings with reference to some central structure. So one who had seen an exhibition of paintings might remember them according to the several places on the gallery wall in which they successively met his attention. Persons have been known who, after one or two readings, could repeat the entire contents of a daily newspaper, in which feat their memory doubtless was assisted by the order of place according to which the articles and advertisements followed each other in the columns of the paper. The collection of things to be remembered into logical classes, ac- cording to the agreement and disagreement of their natures, is a prin- cipal step in the construction of any science, and, together with their proper subdivision, is an aid to the memorization no less than it is to the comprehension of facts and principles. This rule applies only so far as the matter of any department of knowledge admits of classification. Always helpful, it is more useful in relation to some topics of study than to others. Only classification enables the botanist and chemist to retain and recall the results of long-continued observation and ex- periment; no philosopher, statesman, man of letters, or man of busi- ness can hope to have a large store of information at command if he do not digest the details of his knowledge and arrange them under appropriate heads. Often, again, the connection of things in our recollection is main- tained, not by any order belonging to the things themselves, but by an order in other things to which they are related. Should some city officer desire to remember personally all the men of business within his territory, he might recall them according to the local order of their places of business ; or he might arrange them in his mind with reference to their modes of employment, each trade constituting a class by itself ; or he might form an alphabetical list of their names and familiarize himself with them in this way. Finally, the arrangement of things in memory, according to their importance, or their degree of the possession of some quality, is often 342 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLII. adopted. For in practical matters we desire to remember, first, that which is of most consequence, and then things of less importance ; while for the ends of display and impression we begin with things of small moment, that the interest of our hearers may increase and may culminate at last. This order of importance is naturally followed when we would enumerate the individual persons or things in any class which we may have formed; and then it is supplementary to the order resulting from logical collection and division. For one principle of order often co-operates with another in the guidance and assistance of our recollection. The order of place and that of time are concurrent with reference to objects viewed upon a journey. Those of time, causation, and written language may unite in history. For the most part, one principle supplements the work of another, and arranges the details of some subordinate subject that has already found a place for itself as a whole. Thus the topics of his- tory are first arranged according to the order of time, but each of them is then treated with reference to its own origin and development, contemporary occurrences being for the moment neglected. Sometimes, too, History must describe scenes according to an order of locality, and sometimes she must descend to mere descriptive lists or enumerations. The foregoing observations may indicate in what way the mind, with more or less consciousness of purpose, elaborates its acquisitions so as to facilitate future recollection. They apply only to cases in which such elaboration is found desirable, and not to cases which call for no work save that of simple memorization. But it is to be observed that in this arrangement of materials for remembrance, the mind does not slavishly adhere to any one law which may have served a purpose, but employs some other law so soon as another may suggest itself as better fitted to group and unite together the materials to be remembered. Hence the natural order, even of our most considered recollections, cannot be said to follow any principles fixedly ', but rather uses one principle after another, and this with a frequent freedom of choice; in having which freedom memory differs from the reasoning power. While care and ingenuity may greatly improve those mnemonics, mnemonic arrangements of acquired knowledge which the mind makes spontaneously, and this especially in collec- tions of fact which admit of scientific arrangement, we believe that no " art of memory " can supersede the methods of Nature, and that the work of Nature admits of no improvements, save such as may result from the development and application of her methods. For this reason certain artificial devices, which have been recommended in both an- cient and modern times as powerful aids to memory, have been found to be of limited application, and consequently of limited value. These devices may be illustrated by that of a pious servant-girl, who connected the successive parts of the sermon, on Sabbath morning, with the different panels in the ceiling of the church, and who thus, when the sermon was over, had a kind of map of it in her mind. Possibly the instructions to which she listened may have been improved in con- nectedness by having the order of place added to the order of thought; but, ordinarily, the parts of a well-composed discourse suggest each other better without such external aids. The recollective location of Chap. XLIIl.] PHANTASY. 343 the several parts of a discourse upon those segments of a plane with which they had been previously associated, would tend to prevent the omission of any part from our rehearsal ; but we question whether it would directly aid the remembrance of it. The effort needful to form the artificial association would weaken somewhat one's attention to the true and proper relations of the parts of the discourse, and in this way more might be lost than gained. But if an external association can be formed so easily and quickly as not to interfere with the perception of internal connections, the memory is assisted by such an association. Hence a good reader more easily learns sentences from a book than as repeated from the lips of another person; for he sees them in their places. Hence, too, historical charts, in which the comparative duration of kingdoms and the times of events are denoted to the eye, are of considerable value. Moreover, there is an especial advantage, when things have no close connection of their own, if we can impose one upon them by some easily remembered device. Those who have studied Hebrew grammar may remember the Heemantic and JBegadkephath consonants, which designations, and others like them, are simply mnemonic words, each containing all of the class of letters which it names. In like manner the ancient Latin prosodists arranged lists of words in hexameters, so that they might be more easily committed; and of this sort is " The Memoria Technica of Mr. Grey, in which a great deal of historical, chronological, and geographical knowledge is comprised in a set of verses, which the student is supposed to make as familiar to himself as school-boys do the rules of grammar." A more familiar illustration is presented by the old stanza which begins, " Thirty days hath September," and by means of which the number of days in each month is fixed in our remembrance. That, too, was a fine piece of ingenuity by which Petrus Hispanus — afterwards Pope John XXII. — indicated, in a few lines, the char- acter as to figure and mood of all lawful syllogisms, and the mode in which those of the second and third figures might be reduced to the first He made a few short and easily remembered symbols express a great number of truths, not easily associated together; for we acquire and recall with special ease what may have been happily expressed in some rhythmical form of words. CHAPTER XLIIL PHANTASY. Therepro- *■ The reproductive phase of mental life comprises ductive phase more than the mere exercise of the reproductive power, — that is, more than the simple reproduction of past thought or knowledge, according to the laws of suggestion. It includes analysis, synthesis, judgment, quest, elaboration. It is 344 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIII. that development of our activity in which reproduction is the most prominent factor, and in which the mind, without making am T advancement in knowledge, recalling and reconstructing the remembrances and ideas of its past acquisition, supplies itself with matter for contemplation. If we would sharply distinguish the reproductive from the elaborative phase, we must emphasize the fact that contem- plation and the satisfaction to be immediately derived therefrom constitute the principal and ultimate aim of the former mode of activit3 T . When some recollection or imagination is used in the course of argumentative or scientific or moral thought, not for its own sake, but for the purposes of conviction or instruction or guidance, this would belong to the rational, rather than to the reproductive, intellect ; for the mind exercises all its elemen- tary powers in each of the phases of its activit}\ But because such uses of reproduced thought can be exhibited well in connec- tion with others in which contemplation is the end aimed at, they have sometimes been discussed in connection with the latter, and then assumed as understood in the philosophy of the dis- cursive faculty. This course is not objectionable ; there is rather an advantage in it, provided the reasons for it be understood. Two names ^ e have considered those mental operations in for therepro- which the mind recalls and modifies its past cognitions. uity. These We shall now discuss those operations in which con- S-entiy spe- ce ptions and ideas, abstracted from the conviction ciaiized. which originally accompanied them, are reproduced and elaborated. The general faculty corresponding to these operations has received two names from philosophers. Some, adopting a Greek word, have called it the phantasy, or power of producing appearances ; while a greater number have emploj'ed the Latin term imagination, which signifies the power of con- structing likenesses. Both designations are figurative ; and both direct attention to the principal function of the faculty, which is to furnish ideal or mental objects. But while both terms have been applied to the general faculty, there is a differ- ence in their use : the one emphasizes the reproductive, and the other the constructive, activit}- of mind. This difference becomes especially marked when either term is opposed to the other. Then the word " fantasy " signifies that development of the reproductive power whose action re- ceives little or no guidance from the will or judgment, in which a succession of fleeting appearances combine with each other, according to the spontaneous operation of the associative ten- dency. " Imagination," as contrasted with " fantasy," signifies that development of reproduction which is controlled b} T an in- Chap. XLIIL] PHANTASY. 345 telligent purpose, and which accomplishes a desired work, — that is, the elaboration of mental images or representations. Those who have employed the term " imagination " Tug rc^ro- o uuctive fac- in the generic sense have distinguished the two modes Fantasycon- °f tne faculty as the reproductive and the productive trasted with imagination, the former of these being identical with l " the fantasy in its specific character, and the latter with the imagination as contrasted with mere fantas}*. Yet we should notice that reproduction is not confined to the fantas} T , nor production to the imagination. Reproduction is the essen- tial basis of each style of activity ; and the creations of either power are equally wonderful with those of the other. But be- cause fantas}' works without the direction of skill and judgment, her constructions are largely accidental, — the}' fall together like the patterns in a kaleidoscope ; while imagination, being an intentional exercise of intellect, exhibits productions spe- cially worthy of the name. characteris- 2. Before entering upon the discussion of either tics of the specific faculty, some remarks are due to that general uity: i. Does character which belongs to both. oHectfa? -^ et us note tDe significant fact that imaginative real. thought presents itself without attendant belief in the reality of its objects. The essential difference between memory and phantasy is that in the one both the conceptions and the convictions of our original cognition are reproduced, while in the other conceptions only are recalled and used. A tailor ma} T imagine himself a king, 3 T et, unless he be deranged or deceived in some wa} T , he cannot believe himself to be one ; but when he remembers his customaiy occupation, he has both the conception and the conviction that he is a tailor. Thus Nature herself dis- tinguishes thought from belief, conception from conviction, — a most important distinction in philosophy. Again, let us remark that the objects of the imagina- for the most tion do not, for the most part, exist. We may locate part non-ex- imaginar y events in real places, and in other ways mingle knowledge with fancy. But the objects which imagination furnishes, and with which she is especially con- cerned, do not exist. When we call them objects, or more ex- pressly speak of imaginary or ideal objects, we use a figurative sort of language to indicate, not that we are really thinking of objects, but only that we are using ideas in the same manner as if we were. 3. And all Adopting this mode of speech, we say, further, that individual, the objects produced by the imagination are all indi- vidual. This statement does not conflict with the doctrine that 346 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIII. generalization and its results, and the secondary powers gen- erally, are employed in the reproductive phase of mental life. General notions furnish the rules which the imagination follows ; and the attributes with which she clothes her creations are ab- stracted from many sources. But those ideal objects which imagination produces are individuals. If they were of a general character, they would belong to the discursive phase of thought, and would present laws or types such as reason uses. Imagi- nary objects and constructions may contain much that is indefi- nitely conceived, and may nearly approach universality, but they are always granted individual difference ; for in contem- plation the mind loves individuality, and whatever else may make thought more to resemble fact. 4. Employs With respect to the ideas of existence and non- the thoughts existence, the composition of imaginative thought does of existence an.i non- not differ from that of other thought. We conceive of existence., things as existing and as non-existent and as matters of question just as we do in a narration of fact. The story of Mother Hubbard and her dog niay furnish a good illustration for those who are not high-minded. For Mother Hubbard and her dog and the cupboard are conceived of as existing ; but there is at first an imaginaiy question as to the existence of a bone, and whether or not the dog will get one ; and then these latter conceptions are united with that of non- existence. " For when she got there The cupboard was bare; And so the poor cloggy got none.'* Imaginative thought, in its exhibition of objects, employs the same existential statements and conceptions that are employed by assertive or actualistic thought ; but the propositions and con- ceptions of imagination are merely enunciative, while those which assert fact express also belief or knowledge. In the next place, while imagination exhibits ideal hypothetical objects as existing variously, without an}' judgment andTehef. or belief as to tlie reality of this existence, it yet also includes much judgment and belief concerning the imaginary existence of its own entities. The judgments and beliefs thus formed are hypothetical, and are of two classes. They comprise, first, those pertaining to the relations which must exist, even in imagination, among any given set of entities, according to their nature and the nature of things in general ; and, secondly, our judgments in regard to the fitness or unfitness of an}' element of conception to enter into the construction which we may be endeavoring to complete. The first of these modes Chap. XLIIL] PHANTASY. 347 of judgment belongs alike to fantas}^ and imagination ; the sec- ond to imagination only. These judgments are hypothetical ; they do not affirm the real existence of anything, but only as- sert that, on the supposition of the existence of certain objects, they must exist in certain relations, or in connection with cer- tain other objects, which therefore must be supposed to exist also. Should one form to himself the conception, or read the de- scription, of the capital of some ancient empire, he could not do so without giving the city a location in some country, or with- out supposing builders who erected it out of suitable materials, and houses and streets accommodated for private and public use, and inhabitants to occupy these. He would also conceive some governmental officers and regulations to be a necessary part of its constitution. Or were it his desire to plan a model capital for some Utopian kingdom, he would exercise judgment with respect to the site of the cit}', and the width, length,, grade, and direction of its streets ; with respect to the materials for building, the location and construction of buildings according to their several uses, and the disposition of parks, squares, foun- tains, trees, statues, and other ornamental additions ; and with respect to the political, educational, and benevolent institutions which might insure the well-being of the inhabitants. This exercise of judgment is a principal part of the work of the poet ; it is because of his skill in the emplo3'ment of it that he is called a poet, — a maker of things beautiful and pleasing. The formations of fancy are often wonderfully dif- aiiy a crea- ferent from airvthing to be found in actual existence, areproduc- 7 anc ^ therefore, because of their great novelty, they the and pias- have been st}iecl creations. But it is scarcely neces- '' po1i sary to observe that imagination is only a reproductive and constructive faculty ; it is not literally a creative one. The novelt}' of her productions pertains only to their construction. Phantasj' does not provide for herself a single elemental thought, but obtains all the materials for her building from the faculties of perception and acquisition. Hence it is true, philosophically, that fact furnishes all the materials for fiction. 7. is limited Finally, we say that the realm of phantasy includes only to the a n things that have in them an element of possibility, stract possi- and is therefore bounded onl} T Iry the absence of pos- bdity. sibility. The purely impossible — that which contains no element of possibility — cannot be conceived. We cannot imagine a change to take place without any cause, or two things to be one in the same sense in which they are two, nor anything to be and not to be at the same time. Nor can an}*thing impos- 348 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIII. sible be conceived so far forth as it is impossible. But we can imagine things impossible which contain elements of possibilit}-, provided only we confine our attention to these elements. The Lady Fragrantia asked of Baron Munchausen, " Praj T , my dear Baron, were you ever at the Falls of Niagara?" '"Yes, my lacly," he replied ; " I have been, man} T years ago, at the Falls of Niagara, and found no more difficulty in swimming up and down the cataracts than I should to move a minuet." This story of the Baron does not evidence any love for truth. He asserts, as a feat of his own, what would be a downright impossibility for an}^ human being. Yet the statement has a sort of conceiva- bility ; because no one could swim without a suffioienc3 T of water, and there is alwa} T s plenty in the Falls of Niagara. 3. We pass now to fantasy, or the spontaneous mode in what' of the reproductive phase of thought. As contrasted sense a pas- w i^ the imagination, some have called this a passive sive power. °. r . power, because in mere tantasy voluntaiy agencj' is suppressed, and the associative tendency operates according to any influences that may be brought to bear upon it from within or from without. Nevertheless, in one sense, the mind is pre-eminently active in all its reproductions. In this case the term " passive " can sig- nify nothing more than that voluntary activity is either absent or at the least subordinated to that which is spontaneous. Nerarexer- Fantasy, like our other intellectual powers, never cisea alone, works wholly by itself. Generally, its operations nentmani- mingle in that thronging crowd of activities which testations. p ass over ^he track of one's conscious life. Some- times the soul is so engaged in the observation of fact, or so absorbed in memories of the past, or so intent upon the solu- tion of some problem, that the contemplation of idealities is excluded ; but when our minds are not thus earnestly preoccu- pied, we often entertain ourselves with passing fancies. This especially occurs when one's surroundings naturally sug- gest similitudes or suppositions. In a journey through a wild wooded country, strange shapes, to which the fantas} r has given a nature not their own, present themselves to the lonely traveller ; incidents, adventures, dangers, and escapes are experienced which have no nearer relation to realhVy than is to be found in the pos- sibility of their occurrence and in their congruitj' with surround- ing scenes. The lively images of fantasy fill up the intervals of observation and reflection. But, to find this power in its purest and most uninterrupted exercise, we must turn to times at which the mind is freest from the influence of external objects and from the guidance of its Chap. XLIII.] FANTASY. 349 • own rational energy ; for the first of these causes continually re- calls the soul to the apprehension of fact, and the other determines its thoughts into some definite line of recollection or elaboration. This freedom is especially experienced whenever the general energies of body and mind are in a reduced or a disordered con- dition ; and for this reason the phenomena of reverie, of dreams, of somnambulism, of the hallucinations of sense, and of insanity, all illustrate the workings of the fantas}\ Reverie de- The style of thought called reverie attends a condi- fined. tion of rnind in which the vigorous exercise of our faculties is either prevented by weakness or exhaustion, or laid aside through indolence. The first thinkings of the infant are probably of this description ; such also are the wanderings of extreme old age. In reverie an unprompted and unchecked succession of thoughts pass before the mind, and are contem- plated with equal interest whether they be recollections or mere imaginings. But the principal part of reverie, and that which gives character to its operations, is the exercise of the fantas}\ Persons fully occupied with care and business have little time for this indulgence ; but those who are disengaged often spend hours in it. Thus emphyyed, the ambitious youth lays out for himself a long course of exciting adventure or honorable achieve- ment, and the maiden surrounds herself with the delights of a happ}' home in which she reigns the queen. Fantasy in- Less energ} T is needed for the action of fantasy than voiyes only f 0Y ^ e exercise of our other mental gifts. A notice- a slight ex- . . ° ercise of able degree of vigor is required even for distinct and Sgy! al The satisfactory recollection. One whose remembrance reason given, nia}' be undecided, by reason of apathy or distraction or weakness or somnolenc} T , ma}- sometimes overcome this diffi- culty if he rouse himself to energetic and attentive thinking. An equal, if not a greater, degree of psychical force is demanded for an}' mode of external cognition. Mere sensation ma} T not require much tension of mind ; but the exercise of judgment or perception in connection with the sensation involves a considera- ble degree of it. A yet larger draft on mental vigor is made by the elaborations of the imagination ; while rational and abstract thought, in constructing its theories and solving its problems, calls for the highest exercise of energy and attention. For then we detain the passing idea, scrutinize remembered details, select significant facts and reject the insignificant, carefully join consequents to antecedents and one correlate to another, and guide the whole work of reason to a satisfactory conclusion. Fantasy has no such labors to perform, and therefore works with ease. 350 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIII. In the grand Centennial Exposition which recently took place in Philadelphia, there was one prominent building called the Machinery Hall. In this hall many steam-engines, all supplied with power from one large boiler, were engaged in various labors. Some drove card-printing, silk-weaving, type-setting, pin-making, and other light machines ; some assisted in the heavier tasks of cutting nails, stamping coins, turning fanning- wheels and furniture lathes, and twisting ropes of wire or hemp ; others gave motion to heavy mill-stones, or worked huge pumps, or exerted enormous pressure upon bales of cotton or plates of iron, so as to alter these in bulk or shape. Now we might sup- pose a time at which the supply of steam from the central reser- voir would be insufficient to move the larger engines and their attachments, while }*et those engines which had only light opera- tions to sustain would be as busily at work as ever. And it is evident that if the steam were shut off from the larger engines at any time, the smaller ones, when supplied with all the force to be expended, would work yet more vigorously, and that, too, with a less amount of motive power than would be usually em- ployed for the whole collection of machinery. Something like this occurs in the economy of mind ; and for this reason the operations of fantasy frequently appear more extensive, and even more vigorous, in proportion to the state of weakness or abeyance which may affect our other powers. Hence persons who have recovered slowly from some severe sick- ness can tell how their enforced leisure and their convalescent weakness together have been productive of reveries. This same law of mind is illustrated by an expe- ThefrTrigin r i ence a ^ ul to reverie, — that is, by the dreaming which takes place in sleep. In this experience the exercise of the fantas}* is more uninterrupted and complete than at an}' time during our waking hours. For this there are two reasons : first, the perception of external things is wholly, or in great measure, suspended during sleep, and so the influence of this perception to arrest and control the course of reproduc- tive thought is removed ; and, secondly, that peculiar condi- tion of inactivity which the brain assumes in sleep reduces the active energy of the soul more powerfully than fatigue, or lan- guor, or indolence, or any other cause which operates while we are awake. In very deep sleep mental action probably ceases entirely ; we are as devoid of thought and of sensation as when in a swoon. But in ordinar} T slumber those operations only are suspended which involve the more energetic action of the soul ; the movements of the fantasy, and such others as may prove of equal facility, continue. Chap. XLIIL] FANTASY. 351 The extent to which one's powers of attention and discrimina- tion are suppressed in sleep is manifested in various wa}s, but especially in the acceptance by the mind of its own fancies for realities, in our failure to discover and reject the absurdities which enter into the composition of our dreams, and in the incoherent thinkings often exhibited by those who are but par- tially awakened. That the condition of sleep is peculiarly favor- able to the exercise of fantasj* is evident from the experience of all, but particularly from the fact that persons who show little or no pla} r of imagination during their waking hours can often en- tertain us with an account of wonderful dreams and visions which have come to them during the night. Most men have witnessed stranger and greater things while asleep than the}' have ever been able to imagine when awake, -o ,. „. The exercise of belief in dreams arises from several Belief in . . . , . . dreams ac- causes which act in conjunction with the suppression Pi3ei for ' 0I * our more energetic modes of thinking. Professor Stewart's Stewart ascribes our delusion in dreaming; to " a sus- pension of the influence of the will," including therein the suspension of " recollection and reasoning," as voluntary operations. But inasmuch as some part of our suppressed ac- tivity seems independent of the will, it may be more satisfactory to say that sleep suspends, not merely the volitional control of our facilities, but also every really powerful exercise of them, whether voluntary or not. Such being the case, we are not 011I3- liable to be imposed upon by a succession of images over which we have no control, and which in this respect resemble our actual perceptions, but, our ordinary vigor of discrimination being lost, we are less able to judge respecting the real character of those images which pass before us. These causes, together with our separation from conscious contact with external objects, and from their stimulating and regulating influence, may account sufficiently for the delusiveness of dreams. Professor Stewart, though-in a different connection, adds an- other thought to the explanation of the delusiveness of dreams. He teaches that a momentary conviction of reality attends every exercise of the imaginative pouter, and that it is only b} T a judg- ment immediately consequent upon the imaginative act that this belief is corrected. But this doctrine can scarcely be maintained. We do not think that a painter who conceives the face and figure of an absent friend believes, for the moment, that his friend is with him. And however this may be with persons remarkably endowed, it is certain that orclinaiy people do not believe that the absent friends or distant scenes and objects of which they ma} T be thinking, really exist before them. The writer recalls 352 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIIL the appearances of two noble men, his uncles Hugh and John, without for a moment believing them to be present here in the land of the living. The truth is that the mind, when in the full normal exercise of its faculties, can judge immediately of the character of its passing states. When a sensation may be felt, and its external cause perceived in connection with it, this is recognized as a sense-perception. When the thought of former things is repro- duced, with belief in their past reality, this is accepted as re- membrance. And conceptions which occur without sensation, or presented object, or belief in the past, are known to be imagina- tions. These differences are understood at a very early age, probably at the very commencement of distinct thought. But while we cannot admit that momentary belief in things imagined is an original and constitutional principle, nor even an ordinary rule, of mental action, we must allow that an involun- tary and irrational belief is frequently experienced ; and we account for this belief by the well-known tendency of the intel- lect to form instinctive habits of judgment. In this way, prin- cipally, we explain the fact, noticed by Dr. Reid, that ; ' men may be governed in their practice by a belief which,, in specula- tion, they reject. I knew a man," says he, " who was as much convinced as any man of the folly of the popular belief of appa- ritions in the dark ; yet he could not sleep in a room alone nor go into a room in the dark. Can it be said that his fear did not imply a belief of danger? This is impossible." Here an unrea- sonable belief, which was merely a prejudice of the nursery, stuck so fast as to govern his conduct, in opposition to his speculative belief as a philosopher and a man of sense." We are satisfied with this theory, that the belief was a " prejudice of the nursery." Similar momentary delusions occur in connection with our acquired sense-perceptions and the methods of our daily occu- pations. And, certainty, if instinctive habits of judgment may cause momentar}' delusion during our waking hours, we ma}' ex- pect them to cause a more perfect and prolonged delusion during sleep. The force of habit, therefore, is a cause which intensifies the operation of that already named, whereby conceptions, be- cause of their involuntary character or their complete occu- pation of our attention and interest, are sometimes mistaken for perceptions. Extraor- Although the general principle, that mental energy (Unary j s reduced during sleep, is supported by too many achievements facts to admit of denial, certain phenomena are oc- accouuted for - casionally observed which seem to conflict with it. Chap. XLIIL] FANTASY. 353 These phenomena exhibit results such as are ordinarily obtained by persistent mental effort. Persons have remembered things in dreams which they had vainly endeavored to recollect while awake ; others have solved problems upon which the} 7 had been long pondering ; others have composed speeches and poems which the}' could afterwards recite. Condorcet, a name famous in the history of France, told some one that while he was en- gaged in abstruse calculations, he was frequently obliged to leave them in an unfinished state, in order to retire to rest ; and that the remaining steps and. the conclusion of his calcula- tions have more than once presented themselves in his dreams. Franklin has made the remark that the bearings and results of political events which had caused him much trouble while awake, were not unfrequently unfolded to him in dreaming. And Mr. Coleridge says that as he was once reading in the "Pilgrimage of Purchas" an account of the palace and garden of Khan Kubla, he fell into a sleep, and in that situation com- posed an entire poem of not less than two hundred lines, some of which he afterward committed to writing. The poem is entitled "Kubla Khan," and begins as follows: — " In Zanadu did Kubla Khan A stately palace dome decree, Where Alph, the sacred river, ran, Through caverns measureless to man, Down to a sunless sea." Such experiences as these are not of common occurrence. They belong for the most part to minds of extraordinary tal- ent, and indicate the natural effortless workings of genius in some accustomed channel. They occur while slumber is light and the brain in an excited condition. Moreover, the new insight occasionally obtained in dreams may be accounted for hy the free pla}' of the suggestive power about subjects with whose important relations the mind has be- come familiar. For it is well known that great discoveries, though not made without long studj~ and research, have gen- erally flashed into the mind of the investigator at some unex- pected moment. Thus, by a happ} T intuition, Newton discovered gravitation, Archimedes the principle of specific gravity, and Good}'ear the vulcanization of rubber. . Although sense-perception does not ordinarily take ence of sen- place in sleep, except to a limited extent in our lighter dreams m slumbers, the mind is not unconscious of various sen- sations, and is often influenced by them in the forma- tion of its dreams. Ever}' one can remember instances of this 23 354 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIII. phenomenon which have occurred within his own experience. Sometimes a noise indistinctly heard suggests some violent occurrence ; or pressure upon one's person excites the idea of a struggle with an overmastering antagonist. Often an undi- gested supper produces incubus, or nightmare, in which one vainly attempts to escape from troubles and burdens by which he is surrounded and oppressed. 14 Dr. Gregory relates that, having occasion to apply a bottle of hot water to his feet, he dreamed that he was walking on Mount Etna, and found the heat insupportable. A person suf- fering from a blister applied to his head imagined that he was scalped by a party of Indians. A person sleeping in clamp sheets dreamed that he was dragged through a stream. By leav- ing the knees uncovered, as an experiment, the dream was pro- duced that the person was travelling by night in a diligence. Leaving the back part of the head uncovered, the person dreamed that he was present at a religious ceremony in the open air. The smell of a smoky chamber has occasioned frightful dreams of being involved in conflagration. The scent of flowers may transport the dreamer to some enchanted garden, or the tones of music may surround him with the excitements of a well- appointed concert." Theestima- ^ e naye seen, in the discussion on memor} T , that lion of time our estimates of time are for the most part founded on our experience of the duration. of events, and are made by a habit of judgment in which transactions are accepted as indicating the time occupied by them. Such being the case, it is evident that a mistaken belief as to the reality of events will be naturally accompanied by a corresponding delusion as to the passage of time. A deception is experienced analogous to that effect which is sometimes produced in connection with the sense of sight. " When I look into a show-box," says Professor Stewart, " if the representation be executed with so much skill as to conve}' to me the idea of a distant prospect, every object before me swells its dimensions in proportion to the extent of space which I conceive it to occupy ; and what seemed before to be shut within the limits of a small wooden frame is magnified in nvy apprehension to an immense landscape of woods, rivers, and mountains." Moreover*, since fantasies ma}' succeed each other with great rapidity, a long series of events sometimes seems to transpire during a short dream. Chap. XLIV.] SOMNAMBULISM AND HALLUCINATION. 355 CHAPTER XLIV. SOMNAMBULISM AND HALLUCINATION. Somnam- !• The phenomena of the fantasy, in connection with buiism, a somnambulism, or abnormal sleep, are essentially the phe- theory of. nomena of dreaming modified by certain affections of the brain and nervous system. On the immediate nature of the action of this organ no one has ever yet thrown any light. We know that mental changes are conditioned on cerebral action. The function of the brain seems to be a regulative limitation imposed by creative wisdom upon the present exercise of our faculties. In ordinary sleep a general dor- mancy invades this whole organ. This dormancy admits of degrees, so that certain modes of psychical operation may continue, while others are totally or partially suppressed. If to this statement we add that some parts, or specific functions, of the brain may be affected with somnolency, while others are in an excited and active condition, we shall have a sufficient basis for a theory of somnambulism. Even in ordinary sleep our different faculties do not cease to act at once or equally. Cabanis, a French savant, after certain experi- ments, held that sight becomes quiescent first, then taste, then smell, then hearing, and, lastly, touch. This order probably is often de- parted from ; but the statement of Cabanis may be accepted as a gen- eral rule. Moreover, some of our senses sleep more profoundly than others. Often, when a loud noise will not awaken one, if the soles of his feet be tickled, or even if he be touched anywhere, he is imme- diately aroused. And our internal and vital sensations almost always exhibit some activity. Should we now suppose a special excitement of the brain in one part or function whereby psychical life in some one direction should be facilitated or stimulated, while in other directions our powers should cease to operate, this would explain the phenomena of som- nambulism, especially in cases where a cerebral excitement may have arisen in connection with an excitement of the mind itself; for in attempting to account for the singular modes of activity now under consideration, we must have regard to one's existing mental tendencies as well as to the cerebral conditions under which these act. Illustrated An instructive description of somnambulism, as it is from Shak- ordinarily experienced, is to be found in Shakspeare's speare. account of the conduct of Lady Macbeth, after she and her husband had obtained the throne of Scotland through the foul murder of King Duncan. The great dramatist misses none of the essential features of the phenomenon, and therefore we shall quote at full length the passage to which we refer. It is the opening scene of the fifth act of the tragedy. Enter a Doctor of Physic and a "Waiting-Gentlewoman. Doct. T have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked? 356 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIV. Gen. Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon 't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep. Doct. A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching ! In this slumbery agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances, what, at any time, have you heard her say? Gen. That, sir, which I will not report after her. Doct. You may to me; and 't is most meet you should. Gen. Neither to you nor any one ; having no witness to confirm my speech. Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper. Lo j'ou, here she comes ! This is her very guise ; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close. Doct. How came she by that light? Gen. Why, it stood by her : she has light by her continually ; 't is her command. Doct. You see, her eyes are open. Gen. Ay, but their sense is shut. Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands ! Gen. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands : I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour. Lady M. Yet here 's a spot. Doct. Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly. Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say! — One: two: why, then 'tis time to do 't. — Hell is murky ! — Fie, my lord, fie ! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? — Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? Doct. Do you mark that? Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now? — What, will these hands ne'er be clean ? — No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting. Doct. Go to, go to ; you have known what you should not. Gen. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known. Lady M. Here 's the smell of the blood still : all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. — Oh, oh, oh ! Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged. Gen. I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole bodv. Doct. Well, well, well,— Gen. Pray God it be, sir ! Doct. This disease is beyond my practice : yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in their beds. Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown ; look not so pale. — I tell you yet again, Banquo 's buried; he cannot come out on's grave. Doct. Even so ? Lady M. To bed, to bed ! there 's knocking at the gate : come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What 's done, cannot be undone. — To bed, to bed, to bed ! Doct. Will she go now to bed ? Gen. Directly. Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad : unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles ; infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. Analysis of ^ n the foregoing scene let us note, first, that Lady Mac- the iilustra- beth is evidently sleeping. This agrees with the doctrine tlon - that somnambulism is nothing else than an unnatural or morbid sleep. In the next place, she has complete command of her limbs and bodily motions. She is able, not only to walk, but to dress, to take Chap. XLIV.] SOMNAMBULISM AND HALLUCINATION. 357 up and carry a candlestick, to write, to speak, and, in short, to do whatever other action may be pertinent to that collection of concep- tions and delusions with which her mind is occupied. For som- nambulism is so called only because walking is the most notable performance of persons who may be thus affected; as a matter of fact, they show themselves capable of a variety of actions, though this capability is greater in some cases than in others. In the third place, Lady Macbeth exhibits a partial or limited exer- cise of the perceptive faculties. Her open eyes doubtless receive im- ages of the persons and objects about her. She apparently has the sensations of vision, but she perceives only those objects which are immediately related to her own internal activity. Her conduct re- sembles that of an obsequious courtier who, in the presence of a great man, is oblivious of the existence of all other persons. What mental energy she has is entirely engrossed in one way of thinking; none can spend itself in any other direction. She neither sees nor hears the doctor and the nurse. This limitation of perception is a significant feature in somnambulism, as those can testify who have looked into the bright yet vacant eyes of their friends who have been thus affected. Again, the thoughts of Lady Macbeth evidently run in a channel prepared for them by her previous experience. Persons who walk in sleep do so usually after some excitement which they have encoun- tered, and their actions and words have reference to circumstances in which they have become deeply interested. Further, the incoherence of Lady Macbeth's utterances is notice- able. Each sentence has sense in itself, and relates to a common general subject; but it is not rightly connected with those that pre- cede and with those that follow. Here, also, Shakspeare reproduces Nature. Sometimes the sayings of the somnambulist may not be so inconsequent as those of Lady Macbeth ; but, as a rule, they do not yield any connected sense. Finally, it is clear that Lady Macbeth on the succeeding morning had no remembrance of her strange conduct; this agrees with the ob- servation that somnambulists either entirely forget their eccentric performances, or remember them only as parts of a dream. Dr. Abercrombie tells the story of a young nobleman, living in the citadel of Breslau, who was observed by another boy, his brother, " to rise in his sleep, wrap himself in a cloak, and escape, by a window, to the roof of the building. He there tore in pieces a magpie's nest, wrapped the young birds in his cloak, returned to his apartment, and went to bed. In the morning he mentioned the circumstances as having occurred in a dream, and could not be persuaded that there had been anything more than a dream till he was shown the magpies in his cloak." The somnambulist probably does not differ from other dreamers with respect to the recollection of his performances during sleep. . Beside the somnambulism which we have now described, eonfnambu- an d which may be regarded as that ordinarily experienced, s; .sm, or mes- there are forms of the phenomenon which may be styled *aensm. extraordinary, and which, for the purposes of discussion, 358 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIV. we shall distinguish into the magnetic and the ecstatic. The former of these is remarkable for its origin ; the latter for its exhibition of talent. Magnetic somnambulism is so named from the supposition that it is produced by a force somewhat similar to magnetism, and which therefore has been called animal magnetism. The doctrine has been taught that this force, being generated in connection with our corporeal functions, accumulates largely in some animals and persons, and can be emitted by them at their will, so as to control organizations specially liable to be affected by it. Dr. Francis Mesmer advocated this theory in France during the lat- ter part of the eighteenth century, and made it the basis of a system of therapeutics, which, after investigation by a governmental commis- sion, was rejected as of no value. Mesmer was quite successful in producing somnambulism by means of passes of the hand, and with the aid of apparatus addressed to the imagination, and suggestive of some mysterious influence; since his time the term "mesmerism" has been applied to the theory and practice of his art. Although there is no evidence of the existence of any such thing as animal magnetism, it is certain that some persons can effect a wonderful change in the mental and bodily state of others who submit to be ma- nipulated by them. It is an established fact that when one is overcome by the mes- meric sleep, he becomes obtuse to all impressions save those which have relation to the operator; the very succession of his thoughts and actions follows the suggestion and guidance of the operator. From this it will be apparent that mesmeric sleep resembles ordinary som- nambulism in permitting only a limited exercise of the perceptive fac- ulties, but differs from it in being caused and controlled by an artificial influence. It seems to be the result of the action of a peculiar mental excitement upon a susceptible nervous system. In connection with the mesmeric sleep we may mention a similar phenomenon, which may also be regarded as of artificial origin. For some persons exhibit the power of putting themselves into a som- nambulistic condition, during which they develop trains of thought and of speech on subjects with which they have become familiar. This power is sought and cultivated by those spiritualistic " medi- ums " who profess, by means of it, to put themselves into communi- cation with another world. That form of somnambulism which we have termed nambulism. " ecstatic is a development of either the natural or the arti- ficial somnambulism, under conditions which produce a remarkable exercise of one's gifts. " The somnambulist," says Pres- ident Porter, "sometimes displays great acuteness of judgment. He sees resemblances and differences w r hich had not occurred to him in his waking states, and which astonish lookers-on ; he is quick in repartee, solves difficult questions ; he composes and speaks with method and effect; he reasons acutely; he interprets character with rare subtilty; he understands passing events with unusual insight; he predicts those which are to come by skilful forecast; he appears to be another person endowed with new gifts, or quickened by some extraordinary inspiration . ' ' Chap. XLIV.] SOMNAMBULISM AND HALLUCINATION. 359 Dr. Porter qualifies this description afterwards by saying: "These efforts themselves are single and isolated sallies of subtilty and in- sight rather than sustained and connected trains of judgment and reasoning." He accounts for them by a special concentration and excitement of mind, during which one's thoughts are occupied with but few objects, and exercised in the line of his previous efforts and training. This ecstatic somnambulism resembles that wonderful dreaming in which intellectual feats have been easily accomplished, or in which, so to speak, they have accomplished themselves. It may sometimes indicate a genius which slumbers under the ordinary con- ditions of one's life. But as it is generally, if not always, accompa- nied with intense cerebral action, we are inclined to ascribe it chiefly to the stimulus given to our mental powers by a morbidly excited brain. The supernatural production and control of an ecstatic state, whereby one is rapt from earthly things and made the mouthpiece of celestial wisdom, is an important subject, which, however, lies beyond our present purpose. Such inspiration is a possibility; but it should not be assumed as a fact without sufficient evidence. In connection with ecstatic somnambulism we should notice some extraordinary claims made by those who practise the art of mes- merism. They assert that the somnambulist often sees objects in the profoundest darkness, and without the use of the ordinary organs of vision ; that he can behold places and persons on the other side of the globe as if he were there with them; and that he is able to divine the seat and cause of disease, and to foretell future events. So far as the perception of things distant or future is concerned, we may safely hold that iiothing occurs beyond the deceptive imaginations of the dreaming state: the man who sees Lake Lucerne or Kighi Kulm in a vision, only imagines what appearance the lake or the mountain would have if he saw them in reality. The mediumistic diagnosis of disease seems to be simply guesswork and quackery. But we allow that the sensitiveness of our organs, and of our minds in connection with them, is often quickened to a very great degree during somnambulism, so that sensation and perception may take place under conditions which would not ordinarily suffice for their production. In this way we explain such feats as those of Jane Rider, mentioned in Dr. Oliver's physiology. The eyes of this woman were securely bandaged with two large wads of cotton and a black silk handkerchief. " The cotton filled the cavity under the eyebrows, and reached down to the middle of the cheek; and various experiments were tried to ascertain whether she could see. In one of them a watch enclosed in a case was handed to her, and she was requested to tell what o'clock it was by it; upon which, after examining both sides of the watch, she opened the case, and then answered the question. She also read, without hesitation, the name of a gentleman written in characters so fine that no one else could distinguish it at the usual distance from the eye. In another paroxysm the lights were removed from her room, and the windows so secured that no object was discernible, and two books were presented to her, when she immediately told the titles of both, though one of them was a book which she had never before 360 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIV. seen." Occurrences like these have led some to conjecture that the soul may become independent of organs, and be able, even while in the body, to perceive objects without the intervention of the senses. This view is not warranted by necessity. The theory of an ecstatic state of the powers of sense is to be preferred. 2. The part which fantasy plays in producing those hallu- Uons UCma " conation's and apparitions which sometimes substitute them- selves for realities, is to be distinguished from the operation of this power in connection with the delusions of dreaming. In the latter, deception results from a reduction of the energies of the soul, and the absence of the corrective influence of external perception; but the hallucinations of sense mingle themselves with our veritable cog- nitions, and take place in spite of the exercise of a sound judgment and of our condemnation of them as fanciful. In this they resemble those errors of perception which spring from our instinctive habits of judgment. The principal cause of these hallucinations is a morbid condition of the organs of sense. When these organs become unnaturally susceptible, it is possible for the sensations appropriate to some object to be produced in them while the object itself is absent. This happens for the most part, we believe, through the influence of the fantasy, though it may result also from the stimulation of a reproductive tendency in the organ itself, under some physical excitement. In either case the sensible impression of the organ combines with the action of the intellect, and produces a phantasm, or i,mage, which closely resembles an object of perception. Sometimes this phantasm is indistinct and transitory, as when, waking from feverish sleep, one may fancy that he sees and hears, when no real perceptions take place. These hallucinations are easily rejected, and are soon forgotten; but when, through the strength of disease, apparitions become vivid and stable, sober discrimination is needed to perceive that they are merely mental images, — " False creations, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain." When the power of discrimination is wholly lost, as it is in delirium and insanity, the deception becomes complete and prolonged. We remember the conduct of a poor lieutenant whom we visited in his hut during the late war, and who was suffering from delirium tremens. " These, sir," he said, pointing here and there about him, " are the reptiles that are going to devour me." Then, springing up, he rushed out into the company street, seized whatever missiles came to hand, and flung them, with all his force, at the doors, corners, and chimneys of the huts of his comrades, and wherever else he could spy his im- aginary tormentors. The fact that sense-hallucinations attack those who are addicted to the habitual use of spirituous liquors, or of opium, Cannabis Indica, or some other narcotic stimulant, shows that this phenomenon has its principal origin in a disorder of the nerves. Generally the beginning and the ending of every experience of hallucinations can be con- nected with some physical cause. Two cases, chiefly remarkable for being scientifically recorded, may illustrate the origin of hallucinations. Chap. XLIV.] SOMXAMBULISM AXD HALLUCIXATIOX. 361 . . The first, which is reported in the " Edinburgh Medical Journal,' 1 is that of a citizen of Kingston-on-Hull. This man had a quarrel with a drunken soldier who attempted to enter his house, during which "the soldier drew his bayonet and struck him across the temples, dividing the temporal artery. He had scarcely recovered from the effects of a great loss of blood on this occasion, when he undertook to accompany a friend in his walking-match against time, during which he went forty-two miles in nine hours. Elated by his success, he spent the whole of the following day in drinking. The result of these things was an affection, probably an inflammation, of the brain ; and the consequence of this was the existence of those vivid states of mind which are termed apparitions. Accordingly, our shop-keeper (for that was his calling) is reported to have seen articles of sale upon the floor, and to have beheld an armed soldier entering his shop, when there was nothing seen by other persons present. In a word, he was for some time constantly haunted by a variety of spec- tres, or imaginary appearances; so much so, that he even found it difficult to determine which were real customers and which were mere phantasms of his own mind." The other case — that of Nicolai, a distinguished Prussian bookseller — is preserved in a memoir read by himself before the lioyal Society of Berlin, on the 28th of February, 1799. Mr. Nicolai was a person of unusual intelligence and of vivid imagination, and at the time of the occurrence of the hallucinations, had been agitated by a great trouble. "My wife," he says, "came into my apartment in the morning to console me, but I was too much agitated to be capable of attending to her. On a sudden I perceived, at about the distance of ten steps, a form like that of a deceased person. I pointed at it, asking my wife if she did not see it. My question alarmed her very much, and she immediately sent for a physician. The phantom continued about eight minutes. I grew more calm, and, being extremely exhausted, fell into a restless sleep, which lasted half an hour. At four in the rfternoon, the form which I had seen in the morning reappeared. I was by myself when this happened, and, being uneasy at the incident, went to my wife's apartment; there, likewise, I was persecuted by the apparition, which, however, at intervals disappeared, and always pre- sented itself in a standing posture. About six o'clock there appeared, also, several walking figures, which had no connection with the first. " After the first day the form of the deceased person no more appeared, but its place was supplied with many other phantoms, sometimes rep- resenting acquaintances, but mostly strangers; those whom I knew were composed of living and deceased persons, but the number of the latter was comparatively small. The persons with whom I daily con- versed did not appear as phantoms. These appearances were equally clear and distinct at all times and under all circumstances, both when I was by myself and when I was in company, as well in the day as in the night, and in my own house as well as abroad. They were less frequent when I was in the house of a friend, and rarely appeared to me in the street. When I shut my eyes they would sometimes vanish entirely, though there were instances when I beheld them with my eyes closed; yet when they disappeared on such occasions, they generally returned when I opened my eyes. All these phantasms appeared to 362 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL V. me in their natural size, and as distinct as if alive, exhibiting different shades of carnation in the uncovered parts, as well as different colors and fashions in their dresses, though the colors seemed somewhat paler than in real Nature. The longer they visited me, the more frequently did they return; and they increased in number about four weeks after they first appeared. " I also began to hear them talk ; they sometimes conversed among themselves, but more frequently addressed their discourse to me. Some- times I was accosted by these consoling friends while I was in com- pany, and not unfrequently while real persons were speaking to me." In both the foregoing cases it is to be remarked that although the hallucinations were involuntary, and could neither be banished nor recalled at pleasure, their true character became speedily and perfectly known to the persons who suffered from them. In both cases blood- letting was found an effectual remedy. The exercise of fantasy is a prominent feature in most forms of insanity, as those ^now who have listened to the amazing claims and wild vagaries of madmen. This is the natural result of that distrac- tion and dissipation of energy, and that loss of the power of attentive judgment, which are the essential elements of mental derangement. The false beliefs of madness arise from the distraction and dissipation, just as the delusions of dreaming result from the suspension or reduc- tion, of our mental vigor. CHAPTER XLV. THE POETIC IMAGINATION. 1. Imagination is distinguishable from mere fantasy by rea- son of that special exercise of judgment which it involves. In imagination the mind always aims to form for itself objects in the contemplation of which some end of pleasure, hnov>ledge r useful direction, or practiced influence may be promoted. The elements of those conceptions which are presented by the sug- gestive power are chosen or rejected according to their fitness to serve the end. Hence the faculty of imagination, like that of reasoning, involves a voluntary control of our thinking powers. Dr. Brown imperfectly expresses this truth by saj'ing that the higher imagination is a combination of association or suggestion with intention or desire. ■« The comparatively insignificant place which has been granted to imagination, in most metaphysical writings, is to be accounted for parti} 7 because philosophers have been mainly interested in those operations by which truth and knowledge are secured, and partly because there is not much in the theory of the im- agination to exercise philosophical acumen and subtilty. Chap. XLV.] THE POETIC IMAGINATION. 363 This facult}*, nevertheless, is an essential part of the constitu- tion of the mind. Were man's thoughts confined exclusively to memories of the past and cognitions of the present, together with such views of the future as can be obtained from accurate inference, life would be a dull affair indeed. But now bright hopes animate our efforts, lofty ideals present themselves for our realization, and gentle fancies soften the rough realities with which they mingle ; thus we are solaced in the midst of cares, and are beckoned onward in the pursuit of noble ends. _ , Although imagination belongs to all men, it is a ail men, but gift granted to some in vastly more abundant measure Fy 'by some 11 " ^ lan ^° others. For men differ more as to their men- tal than as to their bodily endowments. The distance between a stupid clown and a cultured, educated genius is greater than that between a feeble gentleman and a practised athlete. Persons remarkable for imagination commonly possess quick and lively sensibilities. This partly results from the vivid- ness of their conceptions, but it also stimulates and increases their ability to form such conceptions ; for this reason the natural difference of persons in imaginative power becomes greatly increased as their minds and characters develop. The facult} T of imagination sometimes works on its own account ; that is, it creates scenes and objects simply for the satisfaction of surveying them. At other times its operations are subservient to purposes more remote than any included in this satisfaction. We cannot do better than to consider it, first in the one, and then in the other, of these relations. The poetic ^" That development of imagination which elabor- imagination. ates mental objects for the satisfaction of suiwying e fancy. ^hem, may be distinguished as the poetic imagination. When exercised with little rational control, without an} T at- tempt at a serious and sj^stematic work, and simply for the purpose of providing pleasing images, it is often called the fancy, — a name which implies that this is a mode of thought not far removed from simple fantas} T . The poetic imagination, again, with reference to two well- known developments of genius that depend upon it, ma} r be subdivided into the poetic imagination proper and the artistic imagination. Poetry and art are pursuits of a kindred nature, j'et easily contrasted with one another. The thought of the former ex- presses itself in language ; that of the latter is embodied in painting, music, statuary, and whatever other material things may be made to exhibit the pleasing and the impressive. The sphere of poetry is vastly more extensive than that of art. 364 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLV. Language can utter, with wonderful exactness, whatever the mind conceives : every change and turn of events, every motive and thought, affection and desire, of the heart, can be made known in befitting words. But the productions of art, how- ever skilfully constructed, set forth only the outer side of things, and leave more unsaid than the}' express. At the same time works of art, in appealing to our senses, and not to our minds alone, are better calculated than poetry to produce a strong immediate effect. The objects which the poet and the artist endeavor to prepare for our contemplation are, in the first place, the beautiful and the sublime ; the former comprising whatever may be pleasant to contemplate either in itself or both in itself and its associa- tions, and the latter being that ichich conveys the suggestion of power and greatness. In addition to these objects, whatever may move and interest the heart is delineated. For, to use a phrase of Hamilton's, the productions of both art and poetry are " exclusively calculated on effect." The external conditions favorable for the develop- conditkms ment of one of these pursuits differ from those in of d° et t y which the other flourishes. Both require a time of comparative peacefulness, when the minds of men are not occupied with wars and civil commotions. But poetry de- lights in an age characterized by simplicit}' of life and manners, in which the spirit of men is unconventional and easily im- pressed, and in which the memoiy of great achievements and the desire to emulate them are fresh and vigorous. The poet then gives shape and expression to the sentiments which burn within his own breast and those of others. Art, on the other hand, waits for times of greater repose, and is roused to exertion when the extension of a cultivated taste, the facilities for artis- tic work, and the accumulation of wealth create the demand for meritorious productions, and encourage those whose genius can supply the demand. As a rule, the great poets in every country precede the great artists. We allow that the power of genius is wonderful in every age and in every condition of societ}' ; but without opportunhVy, even genius can accomplish nothing of value, and, in general, favorable times are needed for any grand achievement. , 7 .„ .. It is noticeable that the poetry of every language reason for. 'employs versification, or rather is composed in lines Poetic labor. Q f a i en gth and accentuation more or less regular. This ma}' have been adopted at first to assist memorization, but must be chiefly ascribed to a natural fitness of rhythmical lan- guage to be the instrument of poetical expression. The ear Chap. XLV.] THE POETIC IMAGINATION. 365 delights in that regularity of intonations which is produced by the observance of metrical rules, while a higher seuse is pleased by the skill which makes the accentuation of the verse and the emphasis of the thought coincident with each other. These remarks ma}' be illustrated from any well-composed poem. Let us take the following stanza from a hymn of Addison, — " How are thy servants blest, O Lord ! How sure is their defence ! Eternal wisdom is their guide ; Their help, Omnipotence ! " or this, from another hymn by the same author, — " The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim." These stanzas would lose much of their beauty if they were changed into the language of prose. This leads us to say that the composition of poetry, even for those who are capable of it, is a more laborious task than is commonly supposed. Doubtless, when one is in the proper spirit, the work is not irksome ; yet it involves earnest and per- severing application. There is always that kind of effort which one puts forth in an}' business which deeply interests him. This view is confirmed by the experience even of those poets who have been most perfectly the children of Nature. Robert Burns says, — " The muse, nae poet ever fand her, Till by himsel' he learn'd to wander Adown some trotting burn's meander, An' no think lang ; Oh, sweet, to stray an' pensive ponder A heartfelt sang ! " And the following passage from the correspondence of Burns proves that his songs were not hurriedly got up, but composed with the utmost care and application. ' Until I am complete master of a tune in my own singing," he writes, " I can never compose for it. My way is this : I consider the poetic sentiment correspondent to my idea of the musical expression, then choose my theme, compose one stanza. When that is composed, which is generally the most difficult part of the business, I walk out, sit down now and then, look out for objects in Nature round me that are in unison or harmony with the cogitations of my fancy and workings of my bosom, humming every now and then 366 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL V. the air, with the verses I have framed. When I feel my muse beginning to jade, I retire to the fireside of nry study, and there commit my effusions to paper, swinging at intervals on the hind legs of my elbow chair, by wa} T of calling forth my own critical strictures as m} T pen goes. This, at home, is almost invariably my way." Poetical exertions cannot be maintained with that regularity which serves a good end in ordinary business ; creative genius must often wait till the muse is willing, — that is, till one's mind is filled with fresh fervor and activity ; but still it is true that the work of the poet engages all the energies of his soul. Moreover, after the song may have been first produced, the labor of revision and emendation equals that of the original composition. This task was diligently performed by the most famous poets of both ancient and modern times ; and it has imparted to their productions a perfection which all succeeding ages must admire and emulate. We need not discuss that exercise of talent which produces novels and similar works of fiction ; it is of the same radical nature with the poetic facult}\ But it appeals less to the sense of the beautiful and more to our curiositj". ti rfsti **' ^^ e art i st i c imagination follows the same gen- imagination, eral methods and the same general aims as the poetic, tmefunction an( ^ ^ s distinguished from it by the fact that it is ofimagina- directed to a more specific work.. The painter, the sculptor, and the composer of music aim to produce beautiful and engaging things by the empkyyment of material means ; and in order to do so, thej T form mental conceptions of the things which the} T would produce. Persons of ordinary gifts cannot make much progress in these pursuits. Originality in art calls for a great endowment of taste and talent. The "Nascitur non fit," of Horace, applies even more emphatically to the artist than to the poet. Assiduity may make a respectable copjist ; only Nature produces the creative genius. Hence those who have attained distinction hy artistic achievements have found themselves attracted to art by a power which has compelled them to reject and forsake every other occupation. That imaginary object which the artist endeavors to realize is called his ideal. In general, ideals are objects which one im- agines and endows, to the best of his ability, with every excellence suitable to their nature, and with which, as standards, he com- pares things really existing or in the process of production. While these concepta belong to every mode of the productive imagination, they are most consciously employed in the arts of painting and sculpture. The ideals of the poet and of the Chap. XLV.] THE POETIC IMAGINATION. 367 musical composer are immediately embodied in their verses and melodies ; those of the scientific thinker are surrounded by man}' other thoughts which equally occupy his attention. The plans of the ordinary mechanic or man of business are but roughly sketched, and must be modified according to the course of cir- cumstances ; our conceptions of duty are very abstract, and are rather referred to than contemplated ; but the designs of the painter and the sculptor are long retained in memory as the objects which they desire to express in their productions. At the same time it is evident that ideals are formed and fol- lowed, not only by all artists and poets, but also by every one who imagines for himself things excellent and perfect. The doctrine which sets forth the origin and character of ideals is one of very general bearing. The essential point in this doc- trine is that ideals are entirely new creations or constructions of the mind, and are not merely copies of objects presented to us by Nature. Genius conceives of things such as never existed, and produces objects more beautiful and perfect than an} T to be found in the natural world. That theory which asserts Art to be simply a reproduction" of Nature cannot be sustained The Venus of Milo and the Apollo Belvedere are not copies of any forms that ever were seen, but are more perfect than an}'. The wonderful music of Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn is the expression of harmonies never heard before, and whose birthplace was within the sonl of the composer. It is the duty of Art to improve upon Nature. Even Eden, when Adam was put there "to dress" the garden, was not so perfect that it could not be improved b} T skill and care. Art reduces the redundancies, supplies the defects, heightens the charms, and unites the attractions which are to be found in natural scenes and objects. Therefore it is quite inaccurate to sa} T that the function of the imagination is merely to recompose, in some new way, objects or parts of objects which have been previously perceived. The work of this power includes not simply the partition and com- position of objects, but that more searching and perfect sepa- ration and combination which we call analysis and synthesis, and which, in their fullest development, become abstraction and conception. Dr. Porter rightly remarks : ''The lines and shapes of grace which have been copied in marble or drawn upon canvas, in respect of delicac}' of transition and ease of movement, far surpass those of any living being or actually existing thing. They are suggested by, but are not copied from, any such beings or things. The story that the Grecian painter assembled from every quarter the most celebrated beauties, that he might borrow some charm from each, could never have been true." 368 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL V. When Professor Stewart sa3*s that Milton did not copy his Eden from any one scene, but selected the most beautiful fea- tures from the most beautiful scenes with which he was familiar, we are to understand that, however this or that prospect ma} T have contributed some grace to the imaginary Eden, this was oiffy by furnishing a fruitful suggestion, in which the plastic mind of Milton found material for its work. That work itself was a synthesis of elemental conceptions in which shapes and colors, sizes and distances, sounds and motions, uniformities and diver- sities, were first modified at will, and then combined into one harmonious scene, so as most to please the taste. This wonderful power, which out of old material makes things wholly new, is } r et more evidently displajed in that description which Milton gives of Satan's dreadful home ; where "Round he threw his baleful eyes, That witnessed huge affliction and dismay, Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate. At once, as far as angels ken, he views The dismal situation waste and wild. A dungeon, horrible on all sides round, As one great furnace, flamed. Yet from those flames, No light ; but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe. Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace' And rest can never dwell ; hope never comes, That comes to all : but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed With ever-burning sulphur unconsumed. There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelmed With floods ana whirlwinds of tempestuous fire, He soon discerns." This description was not copied from any scenes that Milton ever saw. If one can understand how ideal creations are thus formed, different in ever} 7 part from objects previously perceived, and surpassing them in excellence or beauty or grandeur, he has mastered the principal point in the philosophy of the imagination. T .. ... But while originative srenius is not merely a repro- Law limiting . » . . & . « 7 \ the work of ductive and compositive, but a plastic and creative, art. tr condi- power, it is to be noted that poetr} T and art are under tionsofsuc- the necessity of maintaining a certain analogy with Nature. Thej 7 must take those scenes and objects which are witnessed in the real world as the basis of their new creations. Ideal excellence can be obtained only by the imagi- native development of that which really exists, and it can affect the soul only as having a certain verisimilitude — that is, as Chap. XLV.] THE POETIC IMAGINATION. 369 having an essential agreement with reality — in those features which are to engage our admiration and excite our sensibilities. The sphere of poetry and art, therefore, being confined to classes of scenes and courses of events similar to those which actually affect our lives, is not so extensive as that which we may assign to the imagination simply. Hence it is plain that natural ability is not of itself sufficient for success in these pursuits. The mind must be stored with knowledge suitable to furnish suggestion in the kind of work that is to be performed ; for this reason the productions of the most original genius are always formed upon previous experience and acquisitions. The following remarks by a great painter, on this point, are worth}' of remembrance. " Invention," said Sir Joshua Reynolds, in a discourse before the Royal Academy, " is one of the great marks of genius ; but if we consult expe- rience, we shall find that it is by being conversant with the in- ventions of others that we learn to invent, as by reading the thoughts of others we learn to think. It is in vain for painters or poets to endeavor to invent without materials on which the mind may work, and from which invention must ' originate. Nothing can come of nothing. Homer is supposed to have been possessed of all the learning of his time ; and we are cer- tain that Michael Angelo and Raphael were equally possessed of all the knowledge in the art, which had been discovered in' the works of their predecessors." Theinflu- ^ e liee( ^ n0 ^ dwell on the humanizing and ele- enceofart vating influence of poetical and artistic pursuits upon poetry. ^ ie character of an}* people who may cherish them. The better productions of imaginative genius awaken the nobler susceptibilities of our nature, and urge us to the attainment of all honorable possibilities. They exert an influence greatly to be desired, both in its public and in its private operation. In the ruder ages of society, " The sacred name Of poet and of prophet were the same ; " the bard was regarded with religious reverence. " Among the Scandinavians and the Celtae," says Professor Stewart, " this order of men was held in very peculiar veneration ; and accord- ingly it would appear, from the monuments which remain of these nations, that they were distinguished by a delicacy in the passion of love, and by a humanity and generosity to the van- quished in war, which seldom appear among barbarous tribes, and with which it is hardly possible to conceive how men in such a state of society could have been inspired, but by a 24 370 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VI. separate class of individuals in the community who devoted themselves to the pacific profession of poetry." The influence of the works of genius was illustrated also in the life of the ancient Athenians. " Among the Greeks," sa}'s an eloquent writer, u wherever the eyes were cast, the monu- ments of glory were to be found. The streets, the temples, the galleries, the porticos, all gave lessons to the citizens. Every- where the people recognized the images of its great men ; and beneath the purest sl\y, in the most beautiful fields, amid groves and sacred forests, and the most brilliant festivals of a splendid religion, — surrounded with a crowd of orators and artists and poets, who all painted or modelled or celebrated or sang their compatriot heroes, — marching, as it were, to the enchanting sounds of poetry and music that were animated with the same spirit, — the Greeks, victorious and free, saw and felt and breathed nothing but the intoxication of gloiy and immortality." In modern times poetical and artistic productions do not exert so great an influence as they once did. Philosophy, sci- ence, history, and the practical pursuits of an advanced civiliza- tion engross the minds of men, and render them less susceptible to aesthetic influences. Nevertheless it is the part of wisdom to cherish the poet and the artist, and to encourage labors which, when rightly directed, tend to the elevation and refinement of our race. CHAPTER XLVI. THE PHILOSOPHICAL IMAGINATION. 1. We now turn to those uses of the imagination which are less ex- clusively connected with its own nature, and which do not belong dis- tinctively to the reproductive phase of thought, but must be regarded either as occupying a middle ground or as forming parts of the dis- cursive phase. With reference to these uses, three different modes of the imagination may be distinguished and characterized. They may be named the speculative, or scientific; the practical, or ethical; and the incentive, or motive. Exercising the first of these, we form conceptions of fact or possi- bility, so as to assist our understanding of truth; using the second, we fashion plans and ideals for our practical realization; and employing the third; we stimulate our desires by placing before them definite aims and aspirations. The practical and the incentive imagination are fully considered in ethical writings, and in discussions relating to Chap. XLVL] THE PHILOSOPHICAL IMAGINATION. 371 the various forms of human motivity and effort. Our present study therefore may properly be limited to the philosophical imagination ; this specially belongs to the domain of mental science. Those who are accustomed to regard scientific discovery and inven- tion as the peculiar and crowning work of man's reasoning faculties, may be surprised to hear that success in these labors depends greatly on the exercise of the imaginative power. We naturally surrender the ideal world to Homer and Virgil, Shakspeare and Milton, Dickens, DeFoe, and other kindred spirits; we regard Aristotle, Euclid, Kepler, Newton, Davy, Faraday, Agassiz, and the like, as men whose minds are wholly conversant about fact and reality. But the truth is that philosophic investigation, which discovers the laws of Nature, and scientific invention, which discovers the modes in which these laws may be usefully applied, can make no progress without a vigorous employment of constructive and creative thought. This may not ordinarily be called imagination ; it is certainly to be distinguished from that exercise of genius which the poet displays; yet it is of the same generic nature with this, and differs from it only because its operation is modified and controlled in the interest of a peculiar end, — namely, the rational pursuit of truth. "We therefore discuss the scientific imagination in connection with the poetic, and regard both as developments of that one comprehensive faculty which has been called the productive imagination. Th . . fi At the same time we need not adopt an extreme infer- compared ence from this doctrine, which some make. It has been with the taught that philosophic is so nearly allied to poetic talent iiation im phi- that the sanie man mav De expected to distinguish himself losophical in bofli lines of effort, or at least to have the ability to do invention. g0> r £\± Q philosophic imagination endeavors to form correct conceptions of the working of causes as these operate in Nature, so that, by means of such conceptions, the operations of Nature may be anticipated and understood. In this mode of thought we are at lib- erty to imagine only what may naturally exist or happen under condi- tions which may naturally exist. We build upon fact, and employ the known elements and laws of actual existence so far as these may be applicable; and where they no longer apply, we still follow, as closely as possible, the analogy of Nature, and carefully shun whatever may conflict with real possibility. The poetic imagination, on the con- trary, regards possibility only so far as not to offend by evident absur- dity, and seeks conformity to Nature only in those features which may excite our sympathy and interest. Philosophic genius cares neither for the beautiful nor the affecting, but for the true and the probable ; it may even co-exist wdth a very moderate sense of what is tasteful and pleasing; it avoids the weakening of scientific discourse by much aes- thetic illustration. But the spirit of poetry delights in the graceful, the beautiful, the touching, the wonderful, the sublime, and aims at no other end than the production of such objects. It is plain that the disposition and habit of mind proper to the philosopher differ from, and even somewhat conflict with, those characteristic of the poet. A conjunction of the two forms of genius in one mind is not a thing to be expected, but rather the reverse; and, in point of fact, it w r ould be 372 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VI. hard to find any instance in which the same person was eminent both as a poet and as a philosopher. 2. That form of imagination employed in speculative thought is sometimes known as philosophical invention, the term " invention " in this phrase being used in a wide sense, so as to include purely theo- retical conjecture, as well as that which looks towards practice. This mode of imagination is always completed by supposing the object of it to be fact, '■ — that is, by distinctly uniting the idea of existence with that of the thing invented. Therefore the products of it, commonly, and with reference to their use, are called suppositions. For the ra- tional faculty deals with, and conceives of, things only as subject to the laws of actual existence. Different modes of philosophical invention may be distinguished according to the different ends for which suppositions are employed. These ends are three in number, — first, the discovery and ascertainment of truth ; secondly, the application of truth, in deduction from things pos- sible, and in useful invention; and, thirdly, the explanation and illustration of truth. These aims are not pursued in separation: they are so re- lated that the attainment of one is often an important step in the prosecution of another; yet a special exercise of imagination, which belongs to each, may be distinctly conceived. . . The philosopher is chiefly concerned with that mode of natimfoP" invention which seeks the discovery of truth. This is that discovery. which he himself employs ; it is that, also, which calls most S P s!mp S osi- ^ or elucidation and discussion. The thought constructions tion distin- to which it gives rise are distinguished from other supposi- Tfi Sbe d and ^ ons ky the name "hypothesis." Originally, the terms " hy- pothesis " and " supposition," as their formation indicates, had the same meaning. They denoted those constructions of the imagi- native power which we employ to explain phenomena, and in which causes and conditions are figuratively placed under those observed facts which are believed to rest or depend upon them. This specific meaning is now retained by the word "hypothesis," which signifies a supposition used for the purpose of explaining phe- nomena, and, in connection with that, of showing its own truth or probability. For any hypothesis which rationally accounts for fact may be true; and if it be the only hypothesis by which the fact can be explained, it must be true. Supposition, on the other hand, has as- sumed the more general sense of imagining a thing to be fact, with reference to something which would follow if it were fact, whether that thing be the explanation of phenomena and the ascertainment of causes or not. When we speak of a supposition, we emphasize the con- ceived existence of the thing supposed; but in the idea of an hypothe- sis, the emphasis rests on the explanatory relation of the thing sup- posed to the facts immediately perceived. These remarks exhibit the reason on account of which a scientific conception, even though designed for purposes of explanation, is not commonly called an hypothesis, unless its explanatory value be immediately taken into account. We should note, in passing, that the peculiar and specific meaning of the noun "hypothesis" is not always retained by the adjective "hypothetical." An hypothetical case is simply a supposed case; an Chav.XLVL] the philosophical imagination. 373 hypothetical syllogism means a syllogism in which one fact is supposed as the antecedent, not as the explanation, of another. The twofold While every hypothesis has a double end in view, — namely, use of hy- to account for facts, and to ascertain whether the supposed pothesis. cause exist or not, — some hypotheses aim more at the for- mer, and others at the latter, of these ends. The famous speculation of Laplace respecting the origin and movement of planetary bodies is in- teresting chiefly as an explanation of phenomena. He conjectured that the atmosphere of the sun originally extended beyond the present limits of the solar system, and that planets were formed by the cooling and condensation of successive rings of fiery vapor, their orbital motion being caused by a combination of their centrifugal force with the cen- tripetal attraction of the sun, and their diurnal motion by similar forces operating within each separate mass of matter. Scientific theories, in general, are principally valuable as explanatory of fact. On the other hand, those hypotheses which are made in the course of judicial proceedings are mainly intended to show the truth or false- hood of the hypothesis itself. In a trial for murder, it was shown that a certain money-lender was discovered one morning in a wood beaten to death, and that this individual and the prisoner had entered that wood together the previous evening. It also appeared that the accused was a person of bad character, and had been a debtor to the murdered man in a considerable amount. The prosecution advocated the hy- pothesis that the prisoner had committed the crime in order to free himself from debt. The counsel for defence argued that the murder might have been committed by some other man. The jury found that the facts could be explained only on the hypothesis of the prisoner's guilt; and the man was executed. In this case the important ques- tion concerned, not the explanation of fact, but the correctness of the hypothesis. Theor de- Those systematic views of phenomena and their condi- fined and tions, as mutually related, which hypotheses enable us to character- form, are called theories. A theory differs from an hy- pothesis in being more comprehensive, — it includes, in one view, both fact and explanation. The conception of it, also, is less suggestive of unreality. One's theory of a phenomenon is a view confirmed by investigation and accepted with more or less confidence. His hypothesis respecting a phenomenon is a conjecture yet to be tested, and which may prove incorrect. While, therefore, these terms are allied, and may sometimes exchange places with each other, there is a difference. In particular, after an hypothesis may have been fully verified, we incline to speak no longer of it, but of the theory established by it Before Newton's time, three laws of planetary motion had been dis- covered through the observations of Kepler. These were that the radius vector of a planet describes equal areas in equal times, that the path of every planet is an ellipse, and that the squares of the times of revolution of the different planets vary as the cubes of their mean distances from the sun. Newton conjectured that a force directed towards the centre of the sun, and varying inversely as the square of the distance from that point, would produce these phenomena; and 374 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VI. he was able to demonstrate that this was the only force which could produce them. Therefore, now, we speak not of the Newtonian hy- pothesis, but of the Newtonian theory, of solar attraction, or of uni- versal gravitation. . At the same time any digested view of fact, or of what idealization, may be assumed as fact, considered as united with its ex- The reason planation, is properly termed a theory; and, indeed, the of it. imaginative character of our hypotheses is often remark- ably exhibited in those theories which originate from them. For not only many theories have been constructed wholly by the imagi- nation, with no aid from reason, and no reference to the analogy of Nature, but — what is specially to be noted — many even of those theories, in which the laws of existence are correctly set forth, pre- sent idealized objects and operations, such as are never to be met with in reality. This separation of even correct hypothesis from literal fact, takes place whenever we desire to have an abstract or independent conception of the proper effect of some law. The powers of Nature do not work separately, nor do they always operate under the same conditions. Each plays its proportionate and variable part in producing the com- plex actualities which we see. In order to comprehend some simple law, we must conceive of a certain power acting alone under given conditions; and thus we form the conception of a phenomenon which never really takes place, yet which truly sets forth the operation of an existing law. We may conceive of an iron ball at rest in space, or driven forward into empty space, and thereafter free from the influence of every force save its own inertia or momentum. Then, with the aid of these conceptions, we state the law that any material body will for- e¥er maintain its condition of rest in the same place, or of motion in a right line and at the same rate of velocity, if it be not influenced by some external power. No such phenomena as these are ever witnessed ; yet the phenomena actually observed justify our ideal conceptions and the law which they enable us to enunciate. The actual motion and rest of bodies obey this law, so far as the operation of other laws per- mit; and they can be accounted for by the combination of this law with others. This power of forming and using ideal theories throws light on a class of objects sometimes considered in scientific thought, which differ, in point of perfection, from any that have ever been met with. The conditions of a law affecting any class of objects lie partly in the nature of the objects themselves; therefore the absolute, or perfect, exemplification of the law may call for a perfection in the nature of the object which is nowhere to be discovered. A perfect reflector which absorbs none at all of the light which falls upon it, or an abso- lutely opaque body through which no light can find its way, or a sub- stance so transparent that light can pass through it without any even the slightest obstruction or diminution, has never been found. Yet such objects can be imagined; and laws of optics, which apply ap- proximately to real cases, can be formulated with reference to these imaginary standards. For realities sometimes approach so near per- fection that no appreciable error follows from regarding them as perfect ; Chap. XL VI.] THE PHILOSOPHICAL IMAGINATION. 375 and in other cases, when the imperfection seriously affects the result, this can be estimated and taken into account in our calculations. The ideals of geometrical theory have that perfection to geometry. A which we now refer. The scientific conceptions of the difficulty ex- point, the straight line, the plane, the curved surface, and plained. ^e regular solid set forth things of a finer quality than any which present themselves to the senses. The ordinary definitions of some of these ideals have been the occasion of perplexity both to metaphysicians and to those mathematicians who have critically ex- amined their own conceptions. In particular, the point, the line, and the surface, as described in geometry, are impossible entities. The existence of that which has neither length, breadth, nor thickness, but position only, or of that which has length, position, and direction, but no width and no thickness, or of that which has length and breadth but no thickness or depth, is inconceivable. Thus, apparently, geometry sets out by asking us to accept absurd conceptions. The difficulty here presented cannot properly be ascribed to the imaginary perfection of the entities considered. There is nothing im- possible or absurd in imaginary perfection. The difficulty originates in connection with the peculiar scientific use for which the ideals of geometry are intended, and which they serve. Yet, as it could have arisen only where such ideals were employed, it may be con- sidered in the present connection. A solution of it is offered in the two following statements: — Geometry First, strictly speaking, geometrical science is not con- concerned cerned with any independent entities which can be called butes^ather P 01n ts, lines, and surfaces, but only with those inherent than with parts of solid bodies which these names may indicate, or bodies. rather — to speak more strictly still — with the character- istic attributes of these parts. A surface, as its name signifies, is properly the boundary of a solid body; a line is the edge at which one surface meets with another; a point is the termination of some sharp pro- jection of the solid; the first of these is considered only with reference to its superficial extent; the second with reference only to its length and course ; and the third with reference to its position only. Even the solid body itself, though possessing an independent or substantial exist- ence, is thought of only so far as it has shape and size, so that, in truth, the shape and size of the solid, rather than the solid itself, are considered. For in geometry solidity means simply space-filling extension. This fact — that the proper objects of geometrical thought are not independent entities, but attributes of solid bodies or of their inher- ent parts, helps to explain the character of geometrical definitions. Though no surface can exist without solidity, we can think of its breadth without thinking of the solidity beneath it; though no line can exist save as a slender solid strip, we can think of its length with- out thinking of the solidity accompanying that; and though no point can exist save as the terminal part of a line or sharpened body, we can think of its position, or of the position of the centre of it, without thinking of its solidity. Therefore, in a science which concerns itself with surfaces, lines, and points only that it may consider their char- acteristic attributes, it is natural that these entities should be spoken 376 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VI. of as if they possessed these attributes alone, although, as we have said, these attributes cannot exist, nor even really be conceived to exist, in separation from each other and from solidity. This mode of speech will be further justified by the useTfrnxTli- second statement which we have to make. This is that ary concep- ideal conceptions of lines, points, and surfaces, as separate tions. entities, are used by us as supports of geometrical thought. The mind dislikes to conceive of mere attributes, even though these maybe the proper subjects of its consideration; so, instead of attributes simply, it conceives of objects as having them. In this way one's con- ceptions are made more to resemble fact. But in the combinations of thought it is needful that each attribute, or each system of attributes, should be allowed its own proper value and effect; therefore we fashion for ourselves objects in which all other attributes than those specially given to them exist in the lowest conceivable degree. In short, we imagine entities which have no appreciable force or value, except in those particulars with which we have characterized them. Hence geometrical ideals are things more perfect for the purposes of thought than any that can be made or found. But they are not ab- surdities. The point occupies space, though it is innnitesimally small ; the line has width and thickness, but it is of the utmost conceivable attenuation, and is without the slightest roughness or irregularity; the superficies is a film of indescribable thinness, and absolutely continu- ous; while the solid is bounded by such surfaces, and is free from all interstices, so as fully to fill the space assigned to it. These concep- tions involve no absurdity; they are consistent with the necessary laws of being. But the size of the point, the width of the line, the thickness of the surface, are so insignificant that they can be disre- garded in reasoning. And the solid, being of perfect density, is such tha't it is measured exactly by the space it occupies. When, therefore, the geometrician says that the point has position only, the line length only, and the surface breadth only, and identifies the solid with the full possible content of a given space, we are to under- stand that these ideals are such as may simply represent certain attributes, and such that by means of them we reason, more easily than we other- wise could, regarding the position, length, superficial extent, and solid contents of material objects. The manner in which men of genius form hypotheses tion and use and scientific theories is essentially the same with that in of scientific which we form suppositions to account for facts which hypotheses. j n ^ eres ^ us# "j^g phenomenon to be explained is attentively studied, and is compared with similar phenomena whose causes are known. Thereupon a cause is conjectured similar to some known cause or causes, but differing from it or them in some way to account for the peculiarities of the case in hand. But often an hypothesis when made is found unsatisfactory. Deductions from it conflict with some of the observed facts, or with facts not previously considered. Then that conjecture is abandoned for another, constructed in a simi- lar way, but either wholly or partially different. Another process of trial takes place with this hypothesis; and so the work goes on till either hope of discovery is given up, or an hypothesis is framed which Chap. XL VI] THE PHILOSOPHICAL IMAGINATION. 377 satisfactorily explains the facts. Then, if the cause assigned by this supposition be found really to exist and operate, or if, in any other way, we can prove that no other cause can possibly produce the results to be accounted for, the hypothesis becomes a doctrine fully received and confidently held. Such has been the history of almost all impor- tant theories. The second The use °^ philosophic invention, in which we suppose use of by- things to exist for the purpose of deducing from them im- potheses. aginary consequences, is next in importance to that which aims at the explanation of facts and the discovery of causes. Indeed, the formation of hypotheses or conjectures would be com- paratively ineffectual toward the ascertainment of truth if these could not be tested by a deductive process. This is done when one combines the hypothesis to be tested with some known fact or principle, and then marks the legitimate inference. For he can now inquire whether this inference agrees with the various facts known to him which r«iate to the subject in hand, or with such facts as he can discover, or with the results of his experiment, — that is, with such facts as he can create. If there be agreement, the hypothesis is confirmed; if there be conflict with fact, it is overthrown. Thus suppositional inference is a test of hypothesis. But it has uses more immediately its own; because the full signifi- cance of any scientific truth cannot be understood unless we combine it with one supposition and another, so as to perceive its different pos- sible bearings. For example, the importance of solar light an'd heat cannot well be estimated, unless we should suppose them suddenly to cease to illuminate and warm the earth, and should consider what midnight darkness and frigid death would then enwrap all beings that are living now. Useful in- A yet more notable use of imagination, in connection vention. with a deductive process, is exhibited in useful contrivance. Such was the invention of the air-pump, by Otto Guericke ; of the thermometer, by Sanctorius; of the reflecting telescope, by Gregory; of the safety-lamp, by Sir Humphry Davy; of logarithms, by Napier; and of the Calculus, by Sir Isaac Newton. The steam-engine, the cotton- gin, the electric telegraph, the telephone, the daguerreotype; and ma- chines for carding, spinning, weaving, knitting, sewing; for type-setting and printing, for mowing, reaping, threshing; and many others em- ployed in modern civilization, — are the products of that invention of which we now speak. For invention, in the narrower sense, indicates only one species of philosophical imagination or invention, and signifies the work of dis- covering methods by which laws and instrumentalities already known may be made to serve useful ends. This work is similar to that of dis- covering the causes and conditions of phenomena, but it is more com- pletely dependent on the constructive power of the imagination. That conjecture which uses hypotheses for the purpose of discovering ante- cedents starts out from the perception or assumption of facts; but this invention, which aims to realize an end through the use of means, has only a possibility in view. Moreover, causes may often be found by simple inquiry and search, 378 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VII. without the aid of supposition; but mental combination alone can afford us any hope of the production of a new agency. Sometimes the discovery of a useful adaptation may appear to result from chance; but it seldom or never results from chance alone. Or- dinarily, the inventor must try many combinations, one after another, without producing the effect hoped for. But if the end be a possible one, his work makes progress. Every new attempt reduces the likeli- hood of failure in the next, and increases the probability of success. But, generally, some uncertainty still remains ; so that in most in- stances the end seems attained or suggested, at last, by some fortu- nate circumstance, and has the appearance of being found rather than achieved. Hence it is that the term "invention," which origi- nally signified only discovery, has come to be applied to the laborious process of contrivance, and especially to the contrivance of useful instrumentalities. Imaginative That exercise of the philosophic imagination which fur- illustration, nishes illustrations of truth may be passed without extended discussion. It is a fact that a principle is sometimes better stated and understood by means of suppositions and similitudes than it can be by means of direct statement, or even by describing any actual example of its operation. The right illustration of truth is a work of less difficulty than the formation of wise hypotheses, or the invention of useful applications. Yet it involves care and skill. An illustration which does not truly present the point to be considered, only confuses the mind; and an illustration which sets forth with equal or greater prominence some other point also, may be the cause of positive error. CHAPTER XLVII. THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 1. That power of thought which manifests itself prominently as the controlling element in the rational or discursive phase of intellect, is commonly known as reason. Most logical and metaplrysical writers define this detiiStio™ of faculty as that hy which the mind forms general no- the rational tions and uses these notions in inference and in other operations pertaining to the perception of truth. This definition does not appear to be correct. On the one hand, general notions are employed in operations which belong to the perceptive and reproductive faculties ; and, on the other, cer- tain exercises of the reason do not involve general notions. The cognitions of acquired perception, which are common to man and the brutes, and are not exercises of reason, involve the Chap. XLVII.] THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 379 instinctive use of rules of inference, which rules are of the nature of general notions. In short, several operations which are often described as belonging to the rational faculty exclusively, occur in mental phases which are contrasted with reason. And the doctrine that eveiy exercise of reason involves the use of gen- eral thought cannot be sustained. It is now commonly admitted that trains of geometrical ratiocination can, and often do, take place from the simple inspection and consideration of diagrams, and without the intervention of universal principles. Yet such reasonings are among the purest products of the rational faculty. Locke's Locke says that reason is "'that faculty whereby definition. man j s supposed to be distinguished from beasts, and wherein it is evident that he much surpasses them." To make this definition explicit and satisfaetoiy, we must saj' " that fac- ulty of perception and judgment ; " for man surpasses the brutes in imagination as well as in reason. As Locke's " Essay" was directed to the consideration of the understanding, the limitation we have suggested was doubtless in his mind. Indeed, this is evident ; for he goes on to describe reason as the faculty which first distinctly ascertains the grounds for belief or knowledge, and which then applies them so as to obtain either certainty or probable conviction. Other authors — such as Kant, Coleridge, and pioymenTof Morell — give the name "reason" to a faculty which the term ^hey distinguish from the understanding, or reasoning reason. ■/ ■ o o • o power, and by means of which we immediately pos- sess ourselves of the necessary elements or eternal principles of truth. We can discover no good ground to believe that we have an} T such independent faculty, and therefore shall not dwell on this meaning of the term. Nor need we discuss those teachings which make reason some- thing impersonal, separate from the soul, and communicated to it, — a revelation of the Absolute Intelligence ! Philosophers should leave such language to orators and poets. Reason is not An exact definition of the rational faculty can be po 8 wef le but a ootamec ^ on h r D 3' a careful scrutiny of that conception peculiar en- of reason which those emphyy who use the term with- menSi'abii- ou *> making it the expression of an}' philosophical lt y- theor}^. An examination of this usage, together with a consideration of the mental facts immediately related to it, will lead to the following results : — In the first place, reason is not a single power, but rather a collection of powers which operate in conjunction with each other. Both thought and belief, together with attention, association, analysis, synthesis, abstraction, conception, generalization, spe- 380 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VII. cification, — in short, all the intellectual powers, whether pri- mary or secondary, enter into this complex facility. In the next place, reason involves a peculiar endowment of mental ability. The powers which this faculty empkys are em- ployed by our other faculties of perception, but in lower degree. Man is said to be distinguished from the brute by his reason, and undoubtedly the development of reason in man is far beyond what any brute exhibits ; 3 et a weak and limited degree of rea- son cannot be denied to some of the brute creation, for we call any perception rational which is the product of some thought and study. Again, we notice that the special ability out of which reason springs is manifested in connection with both the primary powers of mind. First of all, there is a peculiar power of com- prehension, whereby a collection of things naturally related, whether present or absent, actual or possible, can be thought of at once, so that the things presented in actuality often occup3 T but a small portion of one's rational attention ; and, secondly, there is a peculiar power of judgment, or penetration, whereby the relations of things, and especially their necessary relations, are perceived, and so the mind discovers the inner nature of things and their more remote causes and consequences. By reason the savage is instructed to shoot the poisoned arrow, and is informed that when wounded bj T such a weapon he must die. The mere brute cannot fashion such an instrument and antici- pate its effect. It is further evident that this peculiar ability of comprehen- sion and penetration which we have now described affects the operation of the secondary powers, so far as the} T contribute to that increased perception of truth which is the work of reason. Rational analysis is thorough, exact, and definite. The synthe- sis of reason is comprehensive, unites parts or elements by com- plex and important relations, and forms conceptions wholly its own. The associative or suggestive power of a rational thinker chooses from a wider range of ideas, and selects those of spe- cial significance and value ; while abstraction and generalization, which are hidden factors in the lower modes of cognition, are marked features of rational thought. From these causes opera- tions arise — such as the definition and division of notions, for- mal predication, the sj'stematization and arrangement of topics, and analytical connected argument — which are wholly peculiar to rational beings. This leads to the remark that the exercise of reason exhibits a greater voluntary control of our thinking powers than is to be seen in connection with our other faculties. Some might Chap. XLVIL] THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 381 even conjecture that reason originates in a peculiar ability to direct one's mental powers to the accomplishment of their proper ends. But this would be a very imperfect view. The truth is that the will shows more direction because reason both furnishes powers capable of being guided to a peculiar efficienc}' and also indicates the ends and methods of this guidance. The increased mental grasp is of itself sufficient to account for the phenomena without supposing any simultaneous and independent addition to the strength of the will. Reason therefore may be defined as that compre- SiTrationai hensive and penetrating faculty by which man obtains faculty, de- a distinct knowledge of the nature of things, and can discover objects and the relations of objects which lie beyond the sphere of his immediate or acquired perceptions, — a faculty by which we not only analyze and perfect such knowledge as is merely presentational or of easy and habitual inference, but also acid to this knowledge by the power of widely embrac- ing conception and far-reaching judgment. _- ,. . . The older English writers divided the exercise of The division . » . . 177. • • of reason in- reason into the intuitive and the discursive, in this tiv^o^prac- following some of the schoolmen. In the fifth book ticaf, and the of "Paradise Lost," Milton makes the angel Gabriel discursive, or , . , , , A -■ ° speculative, say, in his address to Adam, — " The soul Reason receives, and reason is her being, Discursive or intuitive : discourse Is oftest yours ; the latter most is ours ; Differing but in degree, of kind the same." The intuition referred to in such language as this does not signify, what the primary meaning of the word might suggest, an absolutely immediate or presentational cognition ; as Milton says, these two modes of reason differ, not in kind, but in de- gree. We are here taught that there is an exercise of reason which resembles literal intuition in being without a process, or, to speak more accurately, in being without an}' deliberate and conscious process. In this mode of reason, because either of in- tellectual superiority, as might be supposed in the case of angels, or of acquired and habitual skill, as in the case of human beings, the action of the mind is instantaneous, or nearly so ; the whole nature and all the bearings of some fact or collection of facts are seen and understood by a single glance. This kind of perception is often exhibited by men in the prac- tical affairs of life ; and with reference to this, the faculty which exercises it might be called the practical reason. The other 382 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VII. mode is slower, and more under the conscious direction of the mind. Its suggestion of thought is in answer to continued in- quiry ; its analysis scrutinizes each element in succession ; its sj'nthesis is deliberate systematization ; its inference considers, one after the other, antecedent, consequent, and the connection between them ; in short, the energy of its attention is directed in turn to all the several elements of an act of knowledge, so that the nature and use of each may be properly apprehended. On this account this mode of reason has been called the discur- sive. It has also been styled the speculative, and under this title may be properly contrasted with that practical mode of reason which we have just defined. But while reason is divided into the intuitive and the discur- sive, or the practical and the speculative, these are radically the same power, and differ only in the mode of their operation. The elements and methods of thought and of belief are the same in both. Intuitive reason maybe compared to a practised military genius who perceives at first sight all the capabilities of a field of battle ; discursive reason is the less experienced and it msiy be less talented commander, who surve}'s each part of the field in succession, and forms his plan of action gradually. Such being the case, it is plain that the term " reason" can- not be exactly replaced by the expression " discursive faculty," one form of reason being in a sense intuitive. Yet reason may properly enough be called the discursive faculty, provided only it be understood that such language is adopted, because dis- course is the more prominent mode of reason, and that alone in which the nature and workings of this power can be directly seen and studied. The intuitive exercise of reason is too rapid for either contemplation or control ; it can be understood and influenced only through a knowledge of the nature of rational discourse and of the rules by which this should be regulated. The philosophy of reason must mainly concern itself with the discursive development. But in speaking of reason as discur- sive, we must guard against misapprehension. In this connection let us notice an unwarranted dis- and the uii- tinction which has been made between the reason and ideiiUcai iug ^ ne understanding. Some have confined the former term to what we have called the intuitive reason, and have assigned the latter to the discursive faculty ; while others, adopting an opposite use of language, have given intuition to the understanding and discourse to reason. The fact is that both terms indicate the same thing, though under different points of view. The designation " reason " is derived from the essen- tial work of the faculty, — that is, from that perception and col- Chap. XL VII.] THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 383 lation of things and their relations (res, reor) whence our higher knowledge takes its rise; while the name u understanding " springs from a reference to the result of the foregoing perception, whereby one figuratively stands under the facts he has consid- ered, — that is, below their superficial appearance and among their causes. This result is directly indicated by the verb " to understand," and therefore the noun u understanding " more immediately suggests that discursive facuhvy by the use of which, ordinarily, one consciously attains to rational intelligence. To the common mind the term " reason" is without this suggestive- ness. But that both terms have essentially the same applica- tion is chiefly evinced 03* tha fact that the phenomena ascribed to both faculties, when sifted and explained, call only for the existence of one faculty^ The rational Such is reason. We ma3' now inquire whether the misiif'tiis- rational, or discursive, phase of thought, as distin- tinguished guished from the rational facult3*, should be held to lioiai phase include eveiy mental operation in which reason parti- of thought, cipates ; or should it be confined to those in which reason is the prominent and controlling factor f If we adopt the former alternative, we must allow the rational phase to include every exercise of the productive imagination, because this imagination constantly emplo3'S the reason and judgment. But it will contribute better to clearness of concep- tion and statement if we limit the discursive phase to exercises of mind which are distinctively logical, whose proper purpose and result is the attainment of truth. This course will render more defined the distinction between the reproductive and the rational phase of intellect, and will agree with that frequent mode of conception according to which complex objects are named and distinguished with reference to their preponderating character. The rational phase should include every mental activity in which the ascertainment and understanding of truth is the main purpose and residt of the employment of reason ; while those rational operations which are simply subordinate parts in the work of the creative imagination may be relegated to the reproductive phase. And thus, as certain modes of scientific imagination may be claimed for the rational, so certain plastic exercises of reason ma3 T be granted to the reproductive, intellect. Three neces- ^' ^ ie elemental powers from which reason is con- sary forms stituted are the same with those which enter into our thongnTfthe lower perceptive faculties, and have been discussed as notion, the the primary and secondary powers of mind. In treat- iu(l°Tuent ■/-■«. and the nig of them much matter was introduced which psycho- inference, logical writers heretofore have placed under the head 384 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VII. of the rational faculty. This order has not been adopted in ignorance of the fact that notions, judgments, and inferences are the three generic forms of discursive thought; but it has been our desire to emphasize the doctrine that these modes of activity belong to every phase of mental life, and become distinc- tively rational only when reason may have conferred upon them some of its own superiority. The correctness of this position will become apparent if we consider briefly the development of these three forms of thought under the operation of rational intelligence. The mere generalization of a conception does not call for any special strength of mind. A general notion in itself is simply a partial and indeterminate kind of thinking, and ma}' be formed spontaneously and unconsciously. Within a certain sphere of thought it is not beyond the in.ellect of the brute. Only those notions are distinctively the products of reason which arise from intentional analysis and abstraction, or rather from a conscious determination to know and understand, na- tional conception originates in the clear analytical perception of things, and employs generalization only incidentally. It takes place in the first instance when some individual object — a book, an inquiiy, a quarrel, a distance, a delay — is made the object of attentive consideration. This step is followed by the abstraction and generalization of those qualities, or characters, which are recognized as the basis of laws ; and this again is suc- ceeded b} T the formation of new conceptions so complicated and so comprehensive as to be beyond the reach of any but rational beings. Finally, a jet higher intelligence is obtained by the accu- rate definition of ideas, by the logical division of them, and by their arrangement in systems. In this way sciences originate. Judgment, as a mental modification, stands midway between the notion and the inference. So far as it consists of thought judgment is an existential conception, but in addition to this it includes conviction or belief. In inference the formation of con- viction is more prominent than in simple judgment ; for infer- ence founds one judgment on another or on others. A rational judgment arises when things are seen in their deeper and icidtr relations, or even when a superficial fact is analytically con- sidered; and such a judgment, when fully formed and expressed, is called a proposition. We cannot join those who say that the exercise of reason de- pends on language, but it certainly is greatly facilitated by the use of this instrument ; nor is there anything more marvellous than the way in which the words of a proposition set forth the elements which are united in every rational judgment. Chap. XLVIL] THE RATIONAL FACULTY. 385 The inference ma}* be regarded as consisting of two judg- ments, or propositions, connected with each other as antecedent and consequent ; and it is rationed inference, or reasoning, only when it involves a noticeable degree of analytic or com- prehensive thought. The antecedent proposition may be either simple or compound, according to the nature of the fact or truth presented by it ; but the inference can always be reduced to two propositions, and in a certain sense always consists of two only. This may be seen, first, in the case of those inferences which logicians call immediate. In the example, "Nine inches are part of a foot, therefore the}* are less than a foot," there are two simple propositions, the latter being the consequent and the for- mer the antecedent. But should we say, -' John is older than Hugh, and Hugh is older than William ; therefore John is older than William," the antecedent might be said to contain two propo- sitions, as it certainly does ; yet neither of these by itself con- stitutes an antecedent ; both must be taken together to express one compound fact, — namely, -- John is older than Hugh, who is older than William." This compound proposition is the ante- cedent ; so the argument is reduced to two propositions, though one of them is compounded and double. In those inferences, also, which logicians call mediate, the an- tecedent consists of one proposition, — that is, of the statement of one fact, though it be compounded of two. When we say, " Hindoos are men, and men are mortal," there are two propo- sitions, neither of which alone would lead to an}* conclusion ; but the compound proposition resulting from their union is a logical antecedent. For we ma}* say, " Hindoos belong to the class, men, who are mortal," or " Hindoos have the nature of man, which is subject to death;" whence we infer, "Hindoos are mortal," or " are subject to death." Any detailed discussion of the forms of rational thought does not lie within the limits of our present purpose. Logic is the science which sets forth the laws according to which these forms are constructed and employed. We are convinced that the progress of philosophic analysis calls for a more natural and less dogmatic development of this science than any that has yet appeared, and confidently hope for a satisfactory logic in the near future. For a true theory of rational conviction must spring from analysis and not from assumption. Partly to support the possibility of this hope, we shall close our discussion of the discursive intellect with some remarks on the principal, or generic, modes of reasoning. 25 386 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VIII. CHAPTER XLVIII. RATIOCINATION. Reasoning, or 1. The name reasoning, or ratiocination, might defined^sT-' ^ e a PP^ e( ^ to every exercise of the discursive faculty, logismde- and is sometimes so employed. But, more corn- fined, monly, it is restricted to conscious and i?itentional inference ; and we shall use the term with this meaning. This inference may consist of one act of reasoning, or of man} 7 . In the latter case we have a course, or train, of reasoning. As the understanding of the single step renders the explanation of a succession of inferences a matter of little difficult}', the philoso- phy of ratiocination is chiefly concerned with the single step. A step, or act, of reasoning, when fully stated or expressed, may be called a syllogism. Aristotle says : " A syllogism is a sentence in which, certain things being laid down, something else, different from the premises, necessarily results in conse- quence of their existence." Here the essential point is, that, something being laid down, or assumed, as true, something else follows, or ma}- be inferred, as true. Aristotle, indeed, does not speak of a thing, but of things, being laid down, as if inference were always grounded on a plural something. This is to be accounted for by the fact that he formally recognized only those inferences which proceed from two premises. Such has been the influence of Aristotle, that almost all logicians have followed his example in this respect. Of late years, however, particular attention has been given to certain "- immediate inferences," in which one fact or truth is inferred from one other ; and it seems best that these, as well as all other inferences, when full}' stated, in thought or in lan- guage, should be called syllogisms. 2. The principal point in Aristotle's definition ap- A necessary ... 11 -n ,. n • o i tt consequence plies equally to all forms of inference whatever. He voive^anec- sa . vs ^ na ^ the conclusion necessarily folloios from the essarycon- things laid doion. This is true of every correctly sequen . formed syllogism, whether the conclusion be in itself true or not, and whether it set forth something as certainly or necessarily fact, or as being only doubtfully or probably or pos- sibly true. In every case the conclusion follows necessarily from the premises, and must do so as long as the nature of things and the nature of mind remain what they are. In order to justify this statement, and to free the doctrine of Chap. XLVIIL] RATIOCINATION. 387 inference from confusion, a distinction is necessary between what may be termed a convictional and an objectual necessity of consequence. In every correct inference, whether of some- thing necessary, of something contingent, or of something probable, there is a convictional necessity of consequence. The antecedent, or premise being certainly or possibly or probably true, the consequent, br conclusion, must be true also in a corresponding sense. But an inference ma} 7 be correct without an}- objectual necessity of consequence. This belongs only to that demonstrative inference which arises from the known or assumed existence of some antecedent of necessity. It does not belong to the inference of the contingent and the probable. The distinction now made may be stated somewhat inade- quate!}' by saying that a necessary consequence does not always involve a necessary consequent. The former of these things be- longs to the essential character of every syllogism ; the latter to demonstrative reasoning only. Should we say, in contingency, Every middle-aged woman may be a married woman ; This woman is middle-aged ; therefore She may be married, the conclusion would necessarily follow, though it would not be objectualty necessary. But should we say, Every widow has been married; This woman is a widow ; stating these things for certain, there would not only be a neces- sary consequence, but also a necessary consequent, This woman has been married. False or in- ^ n en tire consistency with the doctrine that the correct syiio- conclusion of every syllogism necessarily follows from the premises, we sometimes speak of false or incorrect syllogisms. In this, by a secondary use of language, that is called a syllogism which has some appearance of being one, while it really is not. Our language is like that of those who call a mere military display a battle — that is, a sham battle — because of its outward resemblance to a fight, although the essential elements of a conflict are wanting. In false syllo- gisms, or inferences, the conclusion does not necessarily follow from the premises. a threefold 3. We shall commence our discussion of ratiocina- division of tion by making a division of inferences with reference inferences : J o _ demonstra- to the mode of logical connection between antecedent gent,°proU ^nd consequent. A thing is necessarily existent when aoie. a logical necessitant of it exists and is included in an 388 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VIII. antecedent ; it is a thing contingent or possible when some or many of the elements of that necessitant exist, while none are known to be non-existent ; and it is probable when a definite proportion of the chances, or individual possibilities, attending an antecedent of contingencj^, are seen to include the existence of the consequent. Inferences, therefore, are those of necessity, of contingency, and of probability ; and in each of these modes they may be syllogistically, or formally, expressed. We may saj^, Triangle A is equal to triangle B ; and Triangle B is equal to triangle C ; therefore Triangle A is equal to triangle C. This would be reasoning in necessity. Or we might say, This figure is a triangle, therefore It may be equiangular. This would be reasoning in contingency. Or we might say, This is one of three individual triangles, of which one is scalene, one isosceles, and one equilateral ; therefore, with the probability of one in three, This triangle is equilateral. The stjie of reasoning exhibited in inferences of necesshVv is commonly called demonstrative, or apodeictic / while the other two modes have been classed together as contingent, or probable, reasoning. Of these last two terms, the former is the more ancient designation, and the latter the more modern, for all in- ference arising from the conception of possibilities. With Aristotle the contingent s} r llogism is what logicians now call the probable. Neither he nor they distinguish from each other the modes of reasoning which we have designated by these terms. The conception of contingencies, being a constant and prominent element of probable inference, was thought of only as included in the latter ; and the more easily so because the con- jecture of contingency seldom takes place without being devel- oped into the conjecture of probability. It is not to be wondered at that one of these inferences was subordinated to the other, and that both were included under one generic name. At the same time the philosophy of thought requires that the contingent and the probable inference should sometimes be distinguished from each other specifically ; and should some generic 'designation be then desired which should leave each of these names to its own proper application, both contingent and probable inference might be included under the title problematic, or conjectural. In eveiy case of problematic inference a part of an antece- Chap. XLYIIL] RATIOCINATION. 389 dent of necessit}' is emphyved, not of choice, but because the case does not yield a whole antecedent. Therefore, in a cer- tain sense, contingent and probable reasoning may be regarded as imperfect modes of inference, and demonstrative as the per- fect mode. But as the incomplete or imperfect is more easily understood after we have obtained a correct conception of the perfect, our attention, in the first instance, must be principally directed to demonstrative reasoning. Nevertheless, all these modes of inference can, to some ex- tent, be studied together. Since it is the nature of all syllo- gisms whatever to present an antecedent with which, in some way, the existence of a supposed consequent is naturally con- nected, we ma} T expect some common relations to pertain to things which are thus generieally one. The most important of these relations ma} T be brought to view if we now consider two distinctions which are of an absolutely universal application. Ostensive or 4. The first of these pertains to the subjective categorical, aspect of syllogisms, and sets forth two modes of tive, S mfer- S1 " belief, or forms of assertion, either of which every ence. inference ma}' assume without any change in the thoughts composing it. Using this distinction, we divide s}'llo- gisms into the ostensive and the suppositive. The former have truth, or what is taken for truth, as their ground of inference ; the latter are express^ based on hypothesis. This division may be traced to Aristotle, or, at least, maj r be supported from his writings. He teaches that " every demon- stration and every S3'llogism must show something to be in- herent or non-inherent, and this . . . either ostensively or by rrypothesis." He describes the ostensive s}~llogism as one "which commences from confessed theses," and "in which the premises are laid down according to truth ; " and he sa} T s, " Let us first speak of the ostensive syllogisms ; and when these are explained the truth will be clear also in reference to those leading to the impossible, and concerning those by hypothesis generally." He also shows that the " s}'llogism ad impossibile," or the reductio ad abswrdum, though suppositive, has essentially the same form, or thought-structure, with the ostensive sjilogism. It is to be regretted that the writings of Aristotle nowhere fulfil his promise "to show hereafter what are the distinctive marks of the hypothetical syllogism, and in how man}' ways it is produced." We cannot tell whether he included all syllogisms founded on an hypothesis among the hj-pothetical, or whether he characterized as hypothetical those only which have some- thing additional to their suppositive character. Certainly the 390 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLVIIL reductio ad absurdum, which he frequently mentions as lrypo- thetical, is not simply a suppositive syllogism, but a suppositive syllogism with an ostensive addition. We reason, — Any passing animal would leave tracks on the sand ; A camel (lee us suppose) has passed here ; therefore ( We must suppose) The camel has left tracks. So far the ratiocination is purely suppositive. But we add, — There are no tracks ; therefore No camel has passed. This is an ostensive addition, and by reason of it the argument as a whole is not really suppositive ; it is ostensive. But whether Aristotle did or did not regard such additions as essential parts of his u hypothetical syllogisms," his followers have done so ; therefore the suppositive syllogism of which we now speak is to be distinguished from that which is ordinarily styled hypothetical. For the suppositive differs from the osten- sive simply as resting on an antecedent which is not asserted, but only supposed, to be true. Ostensive inferences are such as these : — Air is a substance ; therefore It occupies space. — Trees spring from seeds ; therefore • These trees have done so. — All gases are elastic ; Oxygen is a gas ; therefore It is elastic. — Men wounded in battle often die; My friend is wounded ; therefore He may die. — Triangle A is equal to triangle B ; and Triangle B is equal to triangle C; therefore Triangle A is equal to triangle C. These same reasonings become suppositive if we say, — If air is a substance, then It occupies space. — If trees spring from seeds, then These trees have done so. — And so on with the rest. Though closely allied, the ostensive and the suppositive modes of reasoning may take place independently. Each infers from its own mode of propositional thought, and produces its own kind of conviction. But the whole logical value of the supposi- tive syllogism, lies in the possibility of its being converted^ either Chap. XLVIII.] RATIOCINATION. 391 directly or indirectly, into the ostensive syllogism, by means of an ostensive addition. Only ostensive inference produces expectation of reality. The distinction between ostensive and suppositive reasoning corresponds closely with that between real and hypothetical knowledge and real and Irypothetical belief ; }'et it is not exactly parallel. An ostensive syllogism is one whose premises are assumed to be true, and accepted without question, whether they be really true or not ; while a suppositive syllogism is one whose antecedent is conceived merely as an hypothesis, whether the truth or falsity of the Irypothesis be known or not. The nature of suppositive inference being understood, there need be no difficulty regarding that hypothetical syllogism which logicians discuss. This simply accepts the suppositive inference as correct, and then, upon the ostensive assertion of the ante- cedent infers the actual truth of the consequent, or upon the ostensive denial of the consequent infers the actual falsity of the antecedent. In so doing, it proceeds immediately from a knowledge of the logical connection between any two things which are seen to be related to each other as antecedent and consequent. The ostensive syllogism is that which the successors of Aris- totle have called categorical, because the propositions of which it is composed are categorical. Without objecting to this term, we prefer the ancient name, principally because this is more easily contrasted in meaning with the term " suppositive." Orthoiogicai 5. The second distinction of which we spoke as Kica?infer- re l a ^ n g to all syllogisms whatever, concerns an ob- ence. De- jective difference between the antecedents which infer- iiiustrated. ences employ, and takes note of two ultimate modes, Lockequoted. or forms, of ratiocination, in one or other of which every inference takes place. For either what is inferred to exist is so inferred simply because of its logical connection with some known fact, and without any reference to any previously per- ceived case of logical connection ; or it is inferred because the antecedent laid clown is similar to some other antecedent pre- viously found to have a consequent similar to that now offering itself for our acceptance and belief. In this latter case the previousl}* perceived connection be- tween one thing and another may have been the object of immediate cognition and observation, or may have been per- ceived inferentially. But the fact that it existed, and the fur- ther fact that the antecedent now presented is similar to that previously perceived, together constitute a new antecedent for a new consequent. For it appears to be an ultimate and neces- 392 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VIII. sary law of existence that similar logical antecedents should be accompanied lyy similar consequents. In the absence of better terms, we shall st3'le all inferences whose validity depends upon their conformity to this law of being and of belief, homological / while those inferences whose force is independent of any comparison of present with previously perceived cases of consequence we shall call orthological. Homological inference takes place whenever one reasons from experience, or from any knowledge of some similar case or cases. If a little child but once puts its finger into the flame of a candle, it will avoid doing so thereafter. In this it is guided b}^ a conclusion from a past experience. , An adult per- son, who avoids touching fire on the general principle that " fire burns," likewise reasons homologicalfy, even though he maj- not directly refer to a past experience ; for the general principle from which he reasons is derived from the past experience of himself and others. So also the student who, by a series of immediate judgments, has perceived that the three angles of some plane triangle are equal to two right angles, feels warranted to assume this to be true respecting an}' other plane triangle. Moreover, he can ob- tain a general principle from his immediate perception of truth, and can employ this, homologicalfy, as a rule of inference. Orthological reasoning takes place in the more intuitional steps of mathematical and geometrical demonstration, and in what have been called immediate inferences generally. It is such as Locke mentions in the following passage. " I ask," he says, "is it not possible for a young lad to know that his whole body is bigger than his little finger but by virtue of this maxim, that the whole is bigger than a part, nor to be assured of it till he has learned that maxim? Or cannot a country wench know, that, having received a shilling from one that owes her three, and a shilling also from another that owes her three, the re- maining debts in each of their hands are equal? Cannot she know this, I sa}^, without she fetch the certainty of it from this maxim, that, if 3-011 take equals from equals, the remainders will be equals, — a maxim which possibly she never heard or thought of? I desire any one to consider . . . which is known first and clearest by most people, — the particular instance or the general rule ; and which it is that gives birth and life to the other." In these inferences described by Locke, two things are observ- able. In the first place, the force of the reasoning is not de- rived either from or through any general principle. This is the point which Locke enforces. If one were to cut an apple Chap. XLVIIL] RATIOCINATION. 393 into pieces, and think only of that apple and those pieces, he could immediately reason, and say respecting any one piece, that it was less than the whole apple, and this with as much certainty as if he should say, — Wherever there are whole and parts, each part is less than the whole; In this ease there is a whole with its parts ; therefore Each of these parts is less than the whole. And no strength would be added to the reasoning of the country- woman by saying, — When equals are taken from equals, the remainders are equal ; In this case equals have been taken from equals ; therefore The remainders are equal. The maxim, or general principle, in such cases may serve to test the reasoning, but is not the source of its validity, — that is, of its power to produce correct conviction. Secondly, we must notice that orthological inference takes place not only without reference to any general principle, but also ivithout reference to any previously perceived particular case of necessary connection. Locke did not full}' apprehend this point. His zeal is directed against the doctrine u that all knowledge [or reasoning] depends on certain prcecognita, or general maxims, called principles." He nowhere denies that all inference may derive its force from remembered instances of a similar nature. But it is clear that we often reason without an}* reference either to general principles or to any similar case of necessary connection previously perceived. We often note a certain fact, simple or complex, and there- upon immediately infer another fact. This is the most striking peculiarity of those inferences mentioned in the above quotation from Locke. If one event precedes another, we can imme- diately, or without reference to any other case, affirm that the other follows it ; and if a first event precedes a second, which precedes a third, we can assert, with equal directness, that the first is prior to the third as well as to the second. There may be ground for question whether, without any pres- entational knowledge of things as connected in necessary onto- logical relations, the mind could originate the conception of unseen consequents to be inferred from perceived antecedents. We ma}' even allow that the relational conceptions which ortho- logical inference employs are first obtained by the mind in its immediate cognitions of fact. But there can be no question that many inferential convictions give no indication of being depeyxdent on any knowledge of similar cases of connection. 394 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XL VIII. On the contrary, that same mental power which immediately recognizes the necessary connection between two things presen- tationally perceived, also immediate ly asserts the necessary con- nection between two things of which one is known, and the other only conceived, to exist ; and thereby directly infers the existence of the other thing. Here the question occurs, In what way can we determine whether any particular inference be orthological or homological ? To which we reply that this is to be determined by asking, On what does the force of this inference essentially depend? If it arise simply from consideration of the nature of the antecedent, and is independent of reference to any other similar fact known to be logically necessitant, the inference is orthological ; if it arise in connection with such reference, it is homological. Hence it is clear that all reasoning from general principles is homological. A general principle has no force originally belonging to itself. It is derived from the perception of a particular case of consequence, or of a number of such cases, and has its validity according to the law that whatever is neces- sar}^ in an} r individual instance is necessary likewise in every other instance in which there is an antecedent containing the same necessitative conditions. When we reason from a general principle, we do, in effect, reason from the similar to the similar. In all cases of inference we may be said to reason may b? given ^ n accordance with general principles. Therefore, anomoiogicai also, a homological form ma} 7 be given to all reason- ference based ing. But any inference which is in no way dependent cai relations on ^ ne g enera l principle should not be regarded as homological. For this reason we distinguish between that apparent and formal reasoning from principles, when mathe- matical, geometrical, and metaphysical axioms are emplo} T ed, and that real use of principles and general theorems which takes place in the development of an} T form of ontological science. After we have made some progress, orthologically, through a consideration of individual constructions of figure, or of particu- lar concatenations of fact as in various necessary relations, we generalize the truths thus obtained ; and thereupon, neglecting and forgetting the methods hy which such truths were reached, we use these as general rules or principles in our further reason- ings. Thus, without remembering how we first came to adopt the rules, we ascertain the comparative solidity of cones by mul- tiplying the area of their bases by one third of their altitudes, and we extract the cube root of numbers by a more complicated method. In such cases we are guided by general principles, and reason homologicaliy. Chap. XLVIII.J RATIOCINATION. 395 Comparing the two modes of inference with reference to our use of them, we find that the most noticeable part of human reasoning is homological, 'while, at the same time, the ultimate principles of inference, with one exception, are orthological. Homological reasoning has only one ultimate principle, while orthological has man}'. Here, b} T ultimate principles, we mean such as are hninediately subordinate to the universal principle of reason and consequent. It will be noticed that orthological inference is more evidently, though not more truly, illustrative of this fundamental law than the homological. When we collect at random a number of diverse orthological inferences, we find that the}' can be co- ordinated under no one general law, except that of reason and consequent. But when we collect homological inferences, we are distracted by the duality of the principle according to which they are constructed, and b}' its wonderful universality of application. Because of this latter characteristic the homologic principle has been mistaken for the fundamental principle of all rea- soning. This error has been facilitated by the circumstance that in every train of inferences the successive steps, though sometimes orthological and sometimes homological, can all be given that form of expression which is properly necessaiy only for the explicit statement of our reasonings from general princi- ples. All reasoning may take a homologic form, and therefore we wrongly saj' that all reasoning is based on the homologic principle. This has been the almost universal mistake of logicians from Aristotle down. Again, considering both kinds of inference as setting forth things as logically connected with one another, the ontological character of both becomes apparent. B} r this we mean that the radical laws of connection which the mind uses in these forms of ratiocination are such as must belong to any system of things and form a basis for one's reasoning with respect to it. Collecting and analyzing orthological inferences, we find them to arise from consideration of the necessar}* relations of times, spaces, quantities, substances, powers, actions, changes, — in short, of such relations as must pertain to things, provided they exist at all, and which could be annihilated only by the annihila- tion of being ; while the homologic principle that similar conse- quents attend similar antecedents — that what is necessary in any case, b} T reason of the nature of the case, is necessary again upon the recurrence of that case — is also ontological. It may be asked, Can homological inference be based on onto- logical necessity when it produces belief in things that are not 396 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIX. ontologically necessary, as, for example, when it predicts the freezing of water at a certain temperature ? For we may sup- pose that almighty power could change the nature of water in this one respect, so that, on the sea-level, it would remain liquid, or would boil, at the temperature of 32° Fahrenheit. We reply that not only that prediction of natural events which is characterized by the highest moral certainty, but also oar merely probable expectations, — and, in short, all inferences whatever, — are based on the recognition of the necessary char- acter of ontological relations. Demonstrative reasoning assumes a perfect and complete antecedent of necessity ; contingent or problematic reasoning assumes an imperfect and • incomplete an- tecedent of necessit}' ; but in both the force of the inference depends on a perception of the necessary, ontological, relations of entity. The truth of this doctrine is supported by the fact that prob- able inference ma} T assume a mathematical expression, as it does in the " Calculation of Chances ; " but any complete discussion of it belongs to the philosophy of Logic. At present we must con- tent ourselves with saying that the radical principles of probable inference are as ontological as those of demonstrative inference, and would, as a matter of course, be employed, by minds like ours, in any universe, or constitution of things, whatever. CHAPTER XLIX. EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION. • Three com- 1* Experience, in common language, has three mon mean- principal meanings. tefm"expe- First, it is a imme for all of man' s psychical life, rience." a |] j ie d oes G r suffers, so far as he is distinctly con- scious of it. According to this, we say, "One's experience during such or such a period was monotonous or varied, happy or full of sorrow." Secondly, it ma}' denote all of those cognitions, or perceptions, of present objects and relations which take place immediately on the occasion of one's psychical life, whether the objects be included in this life or only in some wa} T connected with it. In this sense "experience" is a comprehensive term, including every form of sense-perception, concomitant perception, and Chap. XLIX.] EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION. 397 consciousness. Hence memory is the record of experience, and is referred to as giving the testimony of experience. This mode of cognition is nothing else than presentative per- ception. Its principal element is the cognition of simple fact ; but it does not exclude, as an accessory to this, a perception of necessary relations. Thus one ma}' experience, or know from experience, the length of a certain road, the necessity of pass- ing over that road to reach a certain mountain, the height of the mountain, the necessity of exertion to surmount the sum- mit, the beaut}' of the prospect obtained there, the resemblance of this view to some other seen elsewhere, and the dependence of the beauty or the resemblance on some particular features of the prospect. Whatever of fact or of necessity may be observed with attention and interest is an object of this experience. Finally, experience may signify our immediate knowledge of fact considered as accompanied by an inductive process, and as resulting in general conclusions. With reference to this meaning we often speak of the dictates of experience, and say that a wise man is governed by experience, and that it is possi- ble to learn from experience — that is, from inductive observa- tion — many useful and important lessons. At present we employ a sense more restricted than any of these, but more closely related to the second than to either of the others. We mean, by experience, the perception, or observa- tion, of mere fact, as distinguished from the perception of the necessary, or logical, relations of fact, or of fact as having these relations. If one sees a man on the street, the sentence "The man stands on the street, not in the house," may express his experience, or experiential perception, in regard to the man. In this he sees and believes simply that the man is in the one place and not in the other, but does not think of the necessity of his being somewhere if he exist at all, of the impossibility of his being both on the street and in the house at the same time, or of the possibility of his being in either place. These last-mentioned perceptions are intimately united with those of mere fact, and are frequently included with them in one act of cognition ; yet they may be distinguished from the latter, and may be called necessary, or logical, or intuitional, perceptions. Often a judgment of experience, or an experiential A peculiar . • •« \ ■, it technical ap- judgment, signifies a lesson or general truth learnt the term ° f fr° m our observation of fact ; and this use of language Defined and is natural and proper. But in the present discussion illustrated. u n u • 7 ^7, • 7 we shall mean, by experience, only the simple percep- tion of fact, — that is, of fact, so far as it does not involve logical relations / for these relations, of course, may also be 398 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIX. things actual. And by empirical cognition, judgment, percep- tion, or knowledge, we shall mean the cognition of simple fact, and not the knowledge of an} 7 law gained from observation, although the phrase might have this latter signification. Experiential, or empirical, judgments, or perceptions, are ex- pressed b} T pure categorical statements, or what the Aristotelians called propositions " de inesse." They use the indicative mood of verbs, and this in its simplest and most literal significance. Sometimes this mood is used to express a necessary law, as when we sa} T , "A straight line is the shortest possible between two points;" "Ice, when exposed to the fire, will melt." But it expresses experiential perception when it is used merely his- toricall}*. Hence experiential, or empirical, knowledge might be called historical ; as it was by Aristotle. Philosophical history, which accounts for facts and traces them to their causes, is not purely empirical ; but history, as a mere chronicle of facts, is a formal record of experience. Experiential knowledge admits of generalization, or rather of the use of general notions. One can say, " All the trees in that forest are oaks." This does not express any law of neces- sity, but simply sums up the result of an exhaustive observation. A general fact must be distinguished from a general law. In causational sequence experience, or empirical perception, may be said to observe the agent and its power, the operation of the power and the result as produced by this, but not that absolute necessity of connection which exists between these things ; just as it ma}* perceive a body occupying space, but not as doing so necessarily. In other words, historical fact and logical necessity may be distinguished, and the perception of each assigned to a different power, or to a different modification of the same power. intuition 2. The term "intuition" signifies literally "a look- denned ing upon," and is naturally applied to any style of conviction in which something is immediately seen, and not inferred, or believed on testimony, to exist. " By intu- ition," saj's President McCosh, " I mean that power which the mind has of perceiving objects and truths at once, and without a process." This is the primary and generic meaning of the term. But, according to this signification, that act of mind which we have distinguished as experience, or empirical perception, is a leading kind of intuition : all presentative cognition, whether of sense or consciousness or concomitant perception, is intuitive ; for all such cognition is immediate and without a process. In a previous part of the present treatise the term kk intuition " Chap. XLIX.] EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION. 399 was used to signify presentational cognition, and not in the peculiar and technical sense now to be employed. The intui- tion of which we are about to speak is not, indeed, to be dis- tinguished from all presentative cognition, but it is to be distinguished from what we have called experiential, or empiri- cal, perception. According to the sense at present before us, it is not intuition simply to be conscious of having a toothache, and to know that it is on one side of }~our face and not on the other, or to realize that you have five digits on one hand, and that with these 3-011 are touching the fingers on the other hand, or other objects within reach. These perceptions would be experiences in the special sense already defined. Again, intuition sometimes signifies an action of the intellect in which things are perceived, not really without a process, but so quickly and with so great natural or acquired facility that the steps of the process elude our observation. According to this sense, intuitive reason is opposed to discursive, though these are both radically of the same nature. In like manner the process of inference in our acquired sense-perceptions is called intuitive. This is that intuition exhibited by great mathematicians, who sometimes understand and solve problems at once which others master only by slow and methodical calculation. The meaning The intuition of which we now treat agrees with " f intuVion" experience in being a perception of truths without a as opposed process ; but it differs from experience in that it takes *°exped- rm place quite as well in the absence as in the presence ence." f the objects asserted to exist. It manifests itself in the fact that a large class of propositions need only to be pre- sented to the mind in order to be fully believed. No objects need be actually present ; the conception of them is sufficient. For this reason the truths thus perceived may more emphati- cally be styled intuitional than those gained by experiential cognition. Experience does not lead to the belief of proposi- tions apart from the evidence of observation, and simply on our consideration of them ; in this sense experiential convictions are not intuitive. Because logic and mental science immediately examine repro- duced or elaborated ideas, and not the perceptions in which these originate, it was natural that in many discussions those beliefs alone should be called intuitive which are evident in themselves, or simply as conceived by the mind, while propositions expres- sive of our perceptions of simple fact should be regarded as immediately evidenced Iry the presented object, rather than as immediately evident in themselves. Thus the terms " intuitive " and " intuitional," though naturally referring to all perceptions 400 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIX. which are immediate or without a process, have been opposed to the terms " experiential" and " empirical," and have been employed to distinguish a class of cognitions which are not those of simple fact. The objective peculiarity common to intuitive, or to thei? ob 60 self-evident, convictions is that they pertain to the jective char- ne eessary relations of things, and set forth things as itionsare in necessary relations. For this reason they have or nSeS'tu- Deen called our necessary judgments or beliefs. This dinaijudg- designation refers to the necessarv nature of the truths which these judgments set forth, and not to their own nature as modes of mental conviction. Although the constitution of the mind renders them necessary in this light also, they are no more subjectively necessary than our experien- tial convictions. What our cognitive powers apprehend to be fact, we cannot help firmly believing, whether we apprehend it as necessary fact or not. Moreover, it is to be remarked that although our intuitions set forth what is necessarily true, they do not always set forth what is necessarily existent. They ma}^ present the merely possible, or, through a combination of the possible with the necessary, what is only probable. The distinction between intuitive and experiential convictions is not such that certainty belongs to the former and probabinty to the latter. On the contraiy, pure intuitional reasoning, in which only ontological principles are employed, may have probable conclusions, while both experiential knowledge and the inferences from it may be perfect and absolute. No one will dispute that when I see an ob- ject — for example, my inkstand — I am just as certain experi- entially that it is where it is, — that is, on ray table, — as I am, intuitively, that, being a real inkstand, it must exist somewhere. But the doctrine has been taught that intuitive perception, being the cognition of things necessary, is alwa} T s productive of absolute certainty. This is incorrect. Our ontological con- victions set forth always what is necessarily true, but not always what is necessarily existent. Possibility, or contingency ', and 'probability, no less than necessity and certainty, belong to the very nature of things, and are intuitively perceived. Our in- ferences in possibility and in probability, no less than those which are necessary and certain, involve ontological judgment. All pure mathematical reasonings are intuitional, but among the purest of them we must reckon calculations of probability. We allow that our more important intuitions concern the neces- sarily existent rather than the possible and the probable. But we maintain that the radical principles of contingent reasoning Chap. XLIX.] EXPERIENCE AND INTUITION. 401 are intuitive convictions. Let it be remembered that necessary judgments are not simpl} 7 those which set forth things as exist- ing necessarily under given conditions, but those which set forth things as necessarily true. In styliug all intuitional judgment necessary, we recognize a community of nature which subsists between logical necessity and logical possibilhVy. JBoth are modes of the state of the conditioned. Possibility ma} 7 be regarded as a partial or im- perfectly developed necessity ; and it partakes so much of the nature of necessity that it cannot be destroyed so long as the antecedent on which it depends exists. An effect is neces- sarily possible when some parts of its cause, at least, exist, nor can it cease to have this possibility till these conditions are removed. As intuitive judgments assert necessity and contingency, the} 7 are naturally expressed in modal and hypo- thetical propositions, just as empirical judgments are naturally expressed by categorical statements. Our original Some distinguish "intuition" as the immediate perceptions perception of that which is necessarv as such, and of possibility n , . ,, ., .. i „ . 1.1. and of con- make " experience the perception of that which is iBrtSSve are contingent as such. This contrast of judgments may and, in a be made, but it is not that presented in this depart- sense^rces 6 - ment of philosophy. Contingency as well as necessity situdinai. j s intuitively perceived. Empirical perception is the simple cognition of fact, as fact, without reference to its logical relations. When we see a man walking along the street, we perceive, experientially, that he is moving in space. This is a thing necessary if he move at all, for no motion is possible save in space ; and it is a thing possible, for the actual is always pos- sible, and the existence of space renders the motion of airy body possible. Moreover, we may say that this necessity and this possibility are presentational!} 7 perceived. But the} 7 are not experientially perceived. So far as anything is perceived as logically necessary or possible, it is the object of intuitional cognition ; mere fact, to the exclusion of logical relations, is the object of experiential cognition. It is true that empirical knowl- edge does not recognize things as necessary ; but neither does it recognize' them as contingent. Someintui- Here let us avoid that extreme doctrine which sentet1onai re " ma ^ es a ^ presentational thought experiential, and in Three rnodes this way denies that any intuitive thought can be so. one^of 1 ex- ' There is no absurdity in saying that some things penence. immediately perceived as fact are also, and in the same act of intellect, perceived as things necessary or pos- sible. It is even reasonable to suppose that our first intuitions 26 402 MENTAL SCIENCE. [Chap. XLIX. take place in connection with experiential cognition, and that they are not properly inferences, but presentational perceptions of things as in logical relations. Or we may say that in com- plete presentational perception intuition and experience unite. Thus, in the very act of perceiving some event as resulting from some cause, we also perceive it to result necessarily. We see that it could not take place without the cause, and that, with the cause, it could not fail to take place. In such a cognition ice would not infer the event from the cause, but perceive it as in necessary relation to the cause. In like manner mathematical intuitions may be presentational. We may see three equal bodies and their equality, and at the same time perceive the necessity that two of them, being re- spectively equal to the third, must be equal to one another. But it is true that the great use and value of 'intuitive judg- ment are realized in connection with inference. As the vital element in inference, intuition enables one to perceive and know things which he does not know already, and which he cannot know in any other way. The fitness of intuition for this use, more than an} T other characteristic, is the ground of its philo- sophical importance and of its distinction from experience. While this latter mode of perception is wholly presentational, the intuitive judgment may assume three forms. First, it also may be presentational, the perception of necessarj' relations between things visibly present. Secondly, it may be an aetual- fstic inference, in which, from some seen antecedent, we infer a real consequent as necessarily connected with it. And, thirdly, it ma} T be an hypothetical inference in which we merely suppose an antecedent, and thereupon infer a consequent as Irypotheti- cally necessary. In these two latter modes of judgment, intu- ition exhibits that peculiar power whereby it produces conviction on the mere presentation of a proposition, and in the absence of the object asserted to exist. 3. When we examine an}' spontaneous intuition or El ATTO cognoscendi et ratio essendi," ±X 150. Ratiocination, 386, 407. Realism and nominalism, 222, 225. "Realists," natural and hypothetical, 126. " Real " possibility, 155, 258. Reason, 20, 378, 399. Reason (or antecedent) and consequent, 115, 136. Recollection, 256, 334. Redintegration, 183. Regressive and progressive methods, 202. Reid, Dr. Thomas, 15, 18, 31, 59, 63, 77, 80, 103, 105, 167, 191, 2-29, 259, 263, 275, 278, 281, 291, 302, 327, 352. Relations, 109, 110, 143, 210, 213, 306. Reproduction, 174, 178, 231. Reverie, 349. Rhapsodists, 339. Rider, Jane, her case, 359. Roscellinus, 226. Ruskin, quoted, 318. CAMENESS, literal and logical, 220. Scaliger, quoted, 150. Scepticism, 409. Schelling, 5, 228. Schema and schematic, 82. Scholastics, the, 226. Schwegler, quoted, 5. Self, perception of, 251, 328. Self-active and self-helpless, 289. Self-determination, 168. (See "Human Mind.") Sensation, 24, 33, 236, 238. Sense, 24, 238, 250, 260, 269. Sensorium, 27. Shakspeare, quoted, 336, 355. Sight, 315, 322. Singular, 216, 402. Sleep, 59, 355. Smith, Adam, quoted, 319. Solidity, 291, 293, 295. Somnambulism, 174, 355. Soul, the, 285; its spatiality, or exten- sion, 30, 129, 282. Space, 210. 302. Species, 262. Spencer, Herbert, 38, 39, 51, 54, 103, 173. Spinoza, 5, 228. Stewart, Prof. Dugald, 63, 64, 68, 168, 191, 227, 245, 338, 351, 354, 368, 369. Substance, 110, 207, 208, 210, 258, 279. Substantum and attributa, 209, 211, 228. Sufficient reason, 138. Suggestion, 180. Supposition, 372. Syllogism, 386. (See " Human Mind.") Synthesis, 196. TANGIBLE and intangible, 290. 1 Tennent, Rev. Wm., 176. " That," knowledge of the, 112. Theory, 373. Thomas, Rev. Dr. T. E., 170. Thought, 19, 93, 237, 242, 287, 407. Time^ 210, 303. 304, 332, 354. Transcendental objects, 4Q8. Trinchinetti's experiments, 319. Truth, 98. Tyndall, 39, 44. TTEBERWEG, qixoted, 410. Understanding, 382. Unit, 197; ™ eV, 228. Unity, 302; of spirit, the, 287. Universal, 217, 222. Y-A-LENTIN'S observations, 325. Varro's saving, 255. " Vis inertise," 298. " WHAT," knowledge of the, 112. " When," category of, 110. " Where," category of, 110. Whole, 198; metaphysical, 199, 206, 212; logical, 218; mathematical, 200; collective, 198. ^ENO, the stoic, 226. University Press: John Wilson <& Son, Cambridge. THE HUMAN MIND A TREATISE IN MENTAL PHILOSOPHY By EDWARD JOHN HAMILTON, D.D. No book of the kind by an American author was ever more favorably received. The work has become a standard authority with those who adhere to orthodox views. OPINIONS AND REVIEWS. He is evidently animated with the love of truth in general, and of metaphysical truth in special. He has not written in haste, but has followed out many of the separate and manifold lines of thought, which must be traced by a careful thinker. — N. Y. Tribune. The chapters on the classification of the powers of the mind, on belief, judgment, knowledge; on contingency and probability; on the calculation of chances; on perception, memory, and imagination, — are all of them as interesting as they are able. — N. Y. Herald. Dr. Hamilton's book, of course, challenges comparison with the standard works of Presi- dents McCosh and Porter. Probably more strictly original matter is contained within these pages than can be found in the treatises of either of the metaphysicians mentioned. — N. Y. Observer. The work is one of the most comprehensive, elaborate, and intelligent treatises on the subject of which it treats that has been presented to the public for a long time. — Presbyterian. The more we have examined this treatise on the various special subjects to which it relates, the more impressed are we with the soundness of his views, the justness of his expositions, and the clearness of his statements. — Advance. He is thoroughly in earnest, and has bestowed long and anxious thought on the subjects treated of, and which are always treated of in a clear, independent, and original way. — President McCosh. Dr. Hamilton belongs to the school of intuitional psychology. He has, however, wrought independently, and has thought through for himself the great problems with which he deals. His style, I may also add, is admirably clear. — Pres. F. L. Patton. I find in it the ripe thought and expression, with the thoroughness and vigor of treatment, which can come only from the long study and elaboration of one who is at home in dealing with questions pertaining to the human intellect. — Rev. Dr. Atwater. I have read many of his discussions with great interest, and have scarcely been able to lay the book down since I first opened it. — Prof. B. N. Martin. The author is evidently familiar with the latest productions of sensationalists , association- alists, and cerebralists, and of all others who openly or virtually deny the separate existence and spirituality of the soul, and, without the savage justice of Dabney, but with equal con- clusiveness, establishes his own conclusions and destroys theirs. — President Jeffer-\ Westtninster College. This book belongs to the same class with the works of Porter and McCosh; and, in my judgment, it compares favorably with them. — Prof. W. D. Wilson, Cornell U?iiversity. Dr. Hamilton has a genuinely metaphysical and logical mind. His acuteness, discrimi- nation, and thoroughness are remarkable, and no one can follow his statements and arguments without intellectual profit and delight. — Pres. Wm. W. Patton, Howard University. Large 8vo, cloth, 722 pages, $3.00. THE MODALIST; or, The Laws of Rational Conviction. A Text-Book in Formal or General Logic. By Edward John Hamilton, D.D., Late Albert Barnes Professor of Intellectual Philosophy in Hamilton College, New York. Price, by mail, post- paid, $1.40. The Modalist is evidently the work of a writer who has studied logic with great care and pleasure, and I think will prove a valuable text-book with the Professor's aid to the student in studying it. — Pkof. Henry Coppee, Lehigh University. His discussion of the new analytic and of contingency in the twenty-first and two following chapters is extremely interesting, and his criticism of Luler's diagrams and of Hamilton's nota- tion is acute. While somewhat minute, it is, on the whole, the best text-book in logic we have seen in the English language. — The Christian Union (New York, July 25, '91). It is clear, not needlessly technical, and- if used under the guidance of a competent teacher, cannot fail to prove eminently valuable. — The Congregatio?ialist (hoston, Sept. 24, '91). The student of logic to-day demands clearness, conciseness, a true determination of its sphere and scope, and a sound system of metaphysics on which to build. This is what Dr. Hamilton, the able professor of intellectual philosophy of Hamilton College, has successfully undertaken to pro- vide in The Modalist, the name indicating that the re-introduction of modality is characteristic of the new logic. — New E7igland Journal of Education (Dec. 12, '91). GINN AND COMPANY, Publishers, BOSTON, NEW YORK, CHICAGO, AND LONDON. MENTAL SCIENCE. A Text=Book for Schools and Colleges. By EDWARD JOHN HAMILTON, D.D. In his work entitled "The Human Mind," Prof. E. J. Hamilton, of Hamilton College, achieved a marked success in a well-worn field. He has now abridged and simplified that work. In its present form it may be safely adopted as a text-book, especially as it takes account of those later movements in philosophy which have their basis in physiology. — Christian Advocdte (New York). The fundamental principle and the conclusion of Dr. Hamilton's philosophy is that we per- ceive fact and truth ; that our perceptions are true perceptions of those very things which we say that we perceive. It is a noble achievement to traverse the philosophic field, to scan and analyze, to watch phenomena and note laws, in order that as a final result we may be rationally justified in accepting the philosophy of Common Sense. — Presbyterian Witness (Halifax). We share in the expectation expressed in the closing sentence of the preface, that u Percep- tionalism will be the philosophy of the future in these United States." — Standard. This book resists and exposes the materialistic and agnostic speculations which have done, and are doing, so much harm in our day; and it sets forth the fundamental principles of a true psychology in plain and conclusive terms. — New York Observer. Professor Hamilton has proven by this manual his right both to his name and to his position. His analyses are clear, his illustrations lucid, his arguments generally convincing, and his style as free as possible from those technicalities which make many works on Mental Science a burden instead of a pleasure to the reader. His system may be termed, The System of Common Sense and Plain Speech. — Christian Intelligencer. I am not flattering you, but I am expressing my real opinion, when I tell you that your book is clear, strong, and sound to the core. — D. W. Fisher, D.D., President of Hanover College, Ind. I find you have given by far the best account we have of '" acquired perception." There is equal carefulness in the development of other topics, which I have not yet been able to study to the same degree. — Joseph T. Duryea, D.D , Omaha, Kan. Your book pleases me much. One peculiar beauty is that you always use the right word exactly in the right place ; and your reasoning is so clear, consistent, and logical, that it stands out before us without a flaw.— R. K. Smoot, D.D., late Moderator of the Southern Presbyterian Church. As I could, I have examined " Mental Science." I suppose that as favorable an opinion as I could express is the statement that I am inclined to adopt it as a text-book, beginning next fall. — W. T. Stott, D.D., Preside7it of Franklin College, Ind. I have looked into your new work sufficiently to see that it is carefully thought out and written, and that it contains a sound and useful philosophy. — James McCosh, D.D., LL.D., late President of the College of New Jersey. i2mo, cloth, 419 pp. Price $2.00. Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 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