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 in 2011 with funding from 
 The Library of Congress 
 
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RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 From Rev. Dr. Nott, President of Union College, Schenectady, New 
 York. 
 
 Though I have not had it in my power to examine the whole of 
 the Elementary Outline of Mental Philosoiihy , and though not entire- 
 ly subscribing to every proposition laid down, in the portion of the 
 work which I have examined, it gives me pleasure to say, that it is, 
 considering its limits, veiy comprehensive — that it evinces an ex- 
 tensive examination of authors, both ancient and modern — and 
 contains an abstract of whatever is pertinent and valuable in the 
 same. No book of the kind that has fallen under my notice, is bet- 
 ter calculated for youth in Schools and Academies, and its produc- 
 tion, therefore, may be regarded as a fresh and valuable contribution 
 to the helps already so liberally afforded to the rising generation 
 for becoming acquainted with whatever in that department is de- 
 sirable to be known. I therefore cheerfully recommend its use to 
 those pursuing an education in all elementary Institutions of learn- 
 ing. Yours, &c., 
 
 ELIPHALET NOTT. 
 
 From Rev. E. P. Barrows, Professor of Sacred Literature in Wes- 
 tern Reserve College, Hudson, O. 
 
 Messrs. Dewey & Elkins : In the " Elementaiy Outline of Men- 
 tal Philosophy," Mr Hall has, with gi-eat diligence and extensive 
 research, prepared and arranged in regular order, a summaiy of 
 what is taught by the most eminent English and Scotch metaphysi- 
 cians respecting the human mind, (availing himself also, to some 
 extent, of the writings of other authors who have treated on the 
 subject) and has simplified the subject as far, j)erhaps, as it admits 
 of simplification, and thus adapted it to the use of Schools and 
 Academies. It is my opinion, that to those who study it, it will 
 furnish a good outline of Mental Philosophy, according to the sys- 
 tem of the authors above referred to, and, as such, I would cheer- 
 fully recommend its use to those pursuing an education in element- 
 ary Institutions of learning. 
 
 At the same time, I do not wish to be understood as assenting to 
 every proposition contained in the book. This could hardly be ex- 
 pected in the case of a Science respecting which such a diversity 
 of opmion exists. 
 
 E. P. BARROWS. 
 
11 RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 From Rev. Edward E. Atwater, Pastor of the First Congregational 
 
 Church, Ravefiina, O. 
 
 Mr. Dewey — Dear Sir : Having had an opportunity of perusing 
 
 the Elementary Outline of Mental Philosophy, prepared by Mr. Hall, 
 
 of this village, to be used as a manual of instruction in Schools, I 
 
 take pleasure in saying, that I think the book worthy of success in 
 
 the sphere for which it is designed. While we have many other 
 
 treatises on mental science which w^ould be preferred by those of 
 
 mature minds, this book supplies a want which must have been felt 
 
 by eveiy teacher of youth. It can be understood by those for whom 
 
 it was written, and will furnish their minds with an ''Outline," 
 
 which may be filled up with subsequent study and reflection. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 EDWARD. E. ATWATER. 
 
 From Mr. W. D. Beattie, Principal of the Classical and English 
 School, Cleveland, O. 
 I have cursorily examined the Elementary Outline of Mental Phi- 
 losophy, by L. W. Hall, and am highly pleased with the design and 
 execution of the work. The author has not detracted from the dig- 
 nity of his science, by omitting or mincing difficult and important 
 points, and at the same time, he has treated his subject with so 
 much clearness and precision, that the attentive pupil cannot fail to 
 be interested, as well as benefitted by the study. It can hardly be 
 doubted, that, when the merits of the work are known, it will come 
 into extensive use in our High Schools and Academies. 
 
 W. D. BEATTIE. 
 
 From the Hon. Elisha N. Sill, Cuyahoga Falls, O., one of the Trus- 
 tees of Western Reserve College. 
 
 Mr. Dewey: I have been able to make but a very hasty and 
 most superficial examination of Mr. Hall's Elementary Outline of 
 Mental Philosophy, but I am much pleased with the design ol the 
 work, and doubt not that it will prove highly beneficial to the cause 
 of education. It supplies a very great deficiency m our School lit- 
 erature; and I presume that intelligent teachers will hasten to avail 
 themselves of the opportunity furnished them by Mr. Hall's text 
 book, of introducing this misunderstood and neglected, but import- 
 ant science, into their Schools. 
 
 Should this Elementary text book of Mental Philosophy accom- 
 
/ //^it 
 
 RECOMMENDATIONS. Ill 
 
 plish no more tliau to awaken a proper interest in this science, as 
 a suitable branch of School education, Mr. Hall will have earned 
 the gratitude of the friends of education. I trust, however, that he 
 will receive a more substantial reward for his meritorious labors. 
 
 Very truly yours, &c., 
 
 E. N. SILL. 
 
 jP-l 
 
 From Mr. T. Parnell Beach, Principal of the Classical and Eng- 
 lish School, Akron, O. 
 
 Mr. Dewey: I have thoroughly examined the Outlines of Mental 
 Philosophy, by Mr, Hall, of Ravenna. I have no hesitation in saying 
 that its manly independence, and great perspicuity, particidarly in 
 the mode of questioning, will render it a valuable aid to the faith- 
 ful teacher, in imparting to the young an elementary knowledge of 
 the science on which it treats ; and I sincerely desire that it may 
 prove an introduction to this branch of education into every Dis- 
 trict School in the countiy. Yours, &c.. 
 
 T. PARNELL BEACH. 
 
 From, Gen. John Crowell, of Warren, O., formerly principal of an 
 Academy, and now a memher of the Bar. 
 
 Dear Sir: I have read the sheets of Mr. Hall's Elementary Out- 
 lines of Mental Philosophy, for which I am indebted to your polite- 
 ness, and think it supplies a desideratum in our series of School 
 Books. 
 
 Mr. Hall has been known for some time as a successful teacher, 
 and this unassuming little volume, upon an important branch of sci- 
 ence, cannot fail, in my opinion, to extend his well earned reputa- 
 tion as an instructor of youth. Moral culture has been too much 
 neglected in our schools ; it should be a prominent object of educa- 
 tion to improve the heart as well as to inform the mind, and to iii- 
 struct the moral as well as the. intellectual faculties. 
 
 Mental Philosophy, from the character of the subjects which it 
 embraces, and its intimate connection with ethical science, is better 
 fitted than almost any other branch of learning, to accomplish this 
 object. It should, therefore, it seems to me, be introduced into our 
 schools, and receive that attention in the instruction of youth which 
 it justly merits. Very respectfully, yours, &c., 
 
 JOHN CROWELL. 
 
IV RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 From William S. C. Otis, Esq., ProseciUing Attorney of Summit 
 County, Ohio. 
 Messrs. Dewey & Elkins: — I have examined the Elementary 
 Outlines of Mental Philosophy, prepai'ed by Mr. Hall, and as a whole, 
 I deem it a judicious and valuable compilation, and happily adapted 
 to that class of persons for whose use it is designed. Whoever has 
 been engaged in the instruction of youth in Academies, and Schools 
 of that grade, must have felt the want of some familiar work on the 
 elementary principles of mental science, as the treatises hitherto 
 published on this subject are fit only for text books in Colleges, and 
 are too minute and abstruse for the immature mind, not yet accus- 
 tomed to take cognizance of its own operations. Though the means of 
 education are widely diffused throughout our country, comparatively 
 few enjoy the advantages of what is termed a liberal education, and 
 hence, to the many, mental philosophy has been in a measure a 
 sealed science, and too much regarded as a dry, uninteresting, and 
 unprofitable study. Should this Outline meet with the patronage it 
 deserves, it will take its place in Academies and Schools, along 
 with other valuable eleinentary treatises on Chemistry, Astronomy, 
 Philosophy, &c., and will become an important auxiliary to the 
 cause of education. Yours, &c. WILLIAM S. C. OTIS. 
 
 From W. A. Stone, A. B., PHncipal of Middlebury High School, 
 Summit Coimty, Ohio. 
 Messrs. Dewey & Elkins: — I received the ^^^ork you recently 
 sent me, upon Mental Philosophy, from the pen of Mr. Hall. So 
 far as I have been able to examine it, I am decidedly of the opinion 
 that it possesses many intrinsic excellencies. The author is espe- 
 cially happy in the order and arrangement of the subjects upon 
 which he treats. The work is small, being, as the title indicates, 
 only aii elementary outline of the science ; but it is plain and com- 
 prenensive, embracing all the principles necessaiy for the scholar 
 who wishes to lay a good foiindation for a tjrorough and extensive 
 knowledge ujDon this important subject. It is free from many of 
 the technical terms usually found in more extensive treatises upon 
 this branch of science. In my opiniop, it needs only to be exam- 
 ined by a discerning public to secure its immediate adoption as a 
 textbook in all our "schools. W, A. STONE. 
 
 From Mr. H. N. Ross, Assistant Teacher, MiddZehury High School. 
 Messrs. Dewey & Elkins: — From a cursory examination of Mr. 
 Hall's Elementary Outline of Mental Philosophy, I consider it, as an 
 elementaiy work, one of decided merit. 
 
RECOMMENDATIONS. V 
 
 The author's division of his subject, and classification of the dif- 
 ferent mental phenomena, are at once natural, concis >, and explicit; 
 and his definitions brief and comprehensive. Unlike many other 
 works on the science of mind, it will not dishearten the student by 
 compelling him to grope his toilsome way through a labyrinth of 
 fine-spun theories, speculative abstractions, and a profundity of 
 mysticism, in which the author himself well nigh loses his own 
 identity; but the happy manner in which the subject is treated, 
 will render it interesting and comprehensible, even to junevile 
 minds. It is a work well adapted for and should be introduced as 
 a text book, in our Common, as well as higher Schools. 
 
 Respectfully yours, &c., H. NORTHE ROSS. 
 
 From N. W. Goodhue, Teacher of Common Schools, Middlehury, Ohio. 
 
 Messrs. Dewey & Elkins : — I have carefully examined Mr. Hall's 
 " Elemcntdry Outline of Mental Philosophy,''^ and consider it a work 
 well calculated to occupy a prominent position, as a class book, in 
 both our common and select schools. I think the author has been 
 peculiarly fortunate in his classification and treatment of the various 
 mental phenomena — drawing deductions so plainly in accordance 
 with common sense — ufeing language at once so simple, chaste and 
 forcible, and employing compai'isons so pleasing and familiar, that 
 as far as this excellent book is concerned, the study of the '^Science 
 of Mind^^ is rendered a pleasing duty, rather than an irksome task. 
 I hope the time will soon arrive when the work will receive the fa- 
 vor its merit deserves, by a general introduction into our Schools 
 and Seminaries. Yours, respectfully, 
 
 NATHANIEL W. GOODHUE. 
 
 From Mr. H. J. Clark, President of Meadville College, Pa. 
 
 Having examined briefly, HalVs Menial Philosophy, designed for 
 the use of Schools and Academies, I cheerfully express my appro- 
 bation of the work. The design of the Author is highly laudable ; 
 and his work appears well adapted to promote the design. It can 
 not be doubted, that the elements of Mental Science might be intro- 
 duced, with advantage, into Common Schools ; and an Academic 
 course of instruction which should exclude them, might justly be 
 considered defective. It should be rec(>llected that the great mass 
 of our youth are wholly dependent, for intellectual training, on these 
 minor institutions. And multitudes of both sexes, who resort to 
 these schools, would be able, I doubt not, with the aid of the more 
 enlightened class of teachers which rnndnrt them, to obtain a com- 
 
VI RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 petent knowledge of this judicious compendium of Mental Science, 
 thereby adding to their stores of knowledge a valuable acquisition, 
 improving their faculties, and forming intellectual habits, important 
 to their happiness, respectability and success in life. 
 
 With great confidence, therefore, I would recommend the above 
 book to the patronage of the public, as being well adapted to the 
 class of young persons for whom it is chiefly designed, and embra- 
 cing a subject, of which they ought not to remain wholly ignorant. 
 
 H. J. CLARK. 
 
 From Mr. G. W. Clarke, Professor of Meadville College, Pa. 
 
 Having read, with considerable care, Mr. Hall's '' Elementary 
 Outline of Mental Philosophy,''^ though not prepared to adopt all the 
 positions of the author without some qualification, I consider it, as 
 ail elementary work, one of more than ordinary merit. 
 
 The classification and arrangement of the work are natural and 
 simple, while the author has certainly excelled in adapting his style 
 and mode of illustration to the juvenile mind. It is cheei'fully com- 
 mended to those who have charge of Common and Primary Schools, 
 as a valuable auxiliary in their important work. 
 
 G. W. CLARKE. 
 
 From Mr. James Cowles, Principal of Painesville Academy. 
 Messrs. Dewey & Elkins : — I have perused Mr. Hall's " Outline 
 of Me)ital Philosophy,''^ with some care, and am prepared to say that 
 I am highly delighted with the book, both in respect to style and 
 doctrine. I am gratified to see common sense elevated as the great 
 umpire of mooted questions ; pronoimcing those views false which 
 do not accord with it, and those true which do accord with it. I 
 am anxious to see this common sense Philosophy prevail ; for popu- 
 lar errors have for their basis, unsound dogmas of Mental Science. 
 Yours, &c. JAMES COWLES. 
 
 From John R. Donnally, Principal of the High School in Meadville, 
 
 Pa. 
 Messrs. Dewey & Elkins: — From a rapid examination of Mr. 
 Hall's " Elementary Outline of Mental Philosophy,'' placed in my 
 hands by you, I am happy to state, that I deem it a compilation 
 admirably calculated to benefit that class of youths for whom it was 
 prepared. For a long time I have felt the necessity of such a work, 
 and would take pleasure in recommending it to the public, as a vol- 
 ume of decided merit. Respectfully, &c. 
 
 JOHN R. DONNALLY 
 
ELEMENTARY OUTLINE 
 
 OF 
 
 MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS. 
 
 BY LYMAN W. HALL. 
 
 COLUMBUS : ISAAC N. WHITING. 
 
 CINCINNATI : H. W. DERBY & CO. ; NEW-YORK : A. S. BARNES & CO. 
 
 1850. 
 
3T. 
 
 M3 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1845, by 
 Lyman W. Hall, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the 
 District of Ohio. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 This work is a compilation of opinions, views, and 
 facts, in Mental Philosophy, deemed of importance, by 
 tho writer, to be embodied in an elementary treatise, 
 designed for use in Schools and Academies. In tho 
 preparation of the work, use has been made of Locke^ 
 Stevyart, Brown, Beattie, Abercrombic ; and a number 
 of other works have been more or less consulted, viz : 
 F^dwards, Tappan, Day, Upham, Hedge, Jamicson, &c., 
 (fee, from which many valuable hints and suggestions 
 have been derived. 
 
 The writer has sought to employ language capable 
 of being understood by youth of average intellectual 
 endowments, and has, therefore, studied perspicuity 
 more than the graces of a finished style — adopting, in 
 some instances, the statements of the authors consulted. 
 with such variations as seemed requisite to adapt them 
 to the work in hand. 
 
 This work has its origin in what is believed to bo a 
 necessity for such a treatise. "The proper study of 
 mankind is man" — a truth, the importance of which 
 does not seem to be impressed upon a majority of minds. 
 There appears to be something quite forbidding, to 
 many, if not to most people, in the term Metaphysics ^ 
 and it is apparently regarded as a profound mysticism, 
 which it is the province of the learned few alone to 
 fathom. Hence Intellectual Science is almost vv'holly 
 
\y PREFACE. 
 
 excluded from the minor grade of Schools, and too 
 much so even from High Schools and Academies. 
 
 What has greatly contributed to this aversion to the 
 science, and served to exclude its study from Schools 
 and Academies, is, as is believed, a deficiency in books 
 on the subject, adapted to the wants and capacities of 
 most of the pupils ordinarily convened in such Schools. 
 This deficiency, it is the attempt of this performance, 
 partially, at least, to supply. 
 
 The writer is well aware, also, that the idea is quite 
 prevalent, that the mature mmd alone is capable of 
 grappling with Intellectual Science. That this is true, 
 to a great extent, hiving in view only the several 
 learned and profound treatises on the subject, may 
 readily be admitted. But that, with proper aids, it is 
 true to the extent supposed, may well be doubted. 
 
 A more simple, brief, and elementary view of the 
 subject, may serve to furnish, even to young minds, 
 some just notions of the leading outlines of the science, 
 and some distinct apprehension of the living, active 
 princi()le within them, and thus they may grow up to 
 maturity thinking, rejlccling, reasoning beings, know- 
 ing something of themselves, and desiring to know 
 more, and thus be prepared to push their intellectual 
 investigations and studies into the higher and mor^ 
 abstruse points of metaphysical enquiry. 
 
 On the other hand, to grow u}> to maturity in pro- 
 found ignorance of this science, is to remain to a great 
 extent, in self ignorance, and to run the hazard of aC' 
 quiring unfortunate mental habits, creating a disrelish, 
 and even an incompetency for patient, thoughtful, and 
 profitable attention to that science, the acquisition of 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 which IS most important to us as intellectual and moral 
 heings. 
 
 With all the aids that may be furnished, with all the 
 simplified and elementary treatises that may be multi- 
 plied, no " royal high-road" to the attainment of mental 
 science can be opened, which will dispense with patient 
 study and thought. Indeed, it is this latter prerequisite 
 (thought) which renders the study of the mind of such 
 vast importance and utility. If this work shall answer 
 the design for which it was intended, and cause the 
 study to be any more easy, accessible, and alluring to 
 the youthful student, and thus supply the deficiency, 
 which is believed to exist, the writer will feel much 
 compensated for his humble, though toilsome labors in 
 the compilation of it. His effort, such as it is, to pre- 
 pare a School Book of Mental Science, which shall 
 serve to render the study more attractive, and more 
 general in Schools, is submitted to the candid consider- 
 ation of the public. 
 
 Ravenna, August 16, 1845. 
 
 A 2 
 
vh 
 NOTE 
 
 To Teachers.— With the questions, arranged to accompanr 
 Iho work, special pains have been taken, that jiot only tlie whole 
 meaning of the text may be developed, but that the uhoie text 
 itself may be brought under the notice and study of the pupil. 
 Some we know, object to the system of questioning entirely, in 
 erhool books, believing that the use of questions in conning the 
 lessons, does not bring into exercise that patient thought and in- 
 restigation which is requisite to the highest development of the 
 mental powers. Others again, believe that only a few questions 
 are desireable, and those merely as suggestions to leading thoughts 
 and topics — uhile yet anoil^er class believe, tliat a full accompani- 
 ment of questions are of most essential, if not of indispensable im- 
 portance. 
 
 Each of the three modes of instruction,— namely, without 
 questions, with few questions, and with full questions — has its 
 advantage.?, while it must be admitted, we think, that by far the 
 larger proportion of pupils (probably it will not exceed the truth to 
 say nine-tenths) can be more benefited, and will make greater 
 progress, and more valuable attainments with the aid of many, 
 rather than with few or no questions. To many, wiihnut ques- 
 tions, the task of masteiing a lesson is almost, or quite insurmount- 
 ably forbidding — while a few leading or general questions would 
 eerve to fix attention upon only a portion of the text — for it is a 
 fact, which it is believed the experience of all teachers w ill go to 
 establish, that the large majority of pupils confine themselves to a 
 Study of the answers called for by the questions, and in this way 
 O large proportion of tlie text not only remains unstudied, but ac- 
 tually unread. It has been the aim in preparing the questions to 
 this wurk, to embrace in them the whole text, so that a study of 
 the work, with the use of the questions, will leave no essentia I o/ 
 Important point untouched, but ail w ill be brought to the obsc/va- 
 tion and study of the pupil. Teachers, however, need n* t bo 
 bound by the course here marked out, unless they should prefer 
 it. If this little work sJiould arrive at the iionor of being adopted 
 Into school? for use, teachers can pursue that course in giving in* 
 6tuction from it, which their own experience satisfies them is best. 
 If the more experienced teacher should prefer to regard it simply 
 in the light of a text book, taking it as the basis upon which to 
 simplify by oral illustrations; even in that case, the questions may 
 be of great service to the i upil in aiding him so to master the text, 
 
vai 
 
 as to bo bsttei prepared to profit by the instructions of his teacher 
 — and the more so, as the questions themselves embi*ace many an- 
 swers, explanations, and illustrations, calculated to aid in arriving 
 at a more distinct understanding of the principles of the science, 
 embodied in the work. In a system of questions so particular and 
 specific, some repetition, and even in some instances the appear- 
 ance of juvenility is unavoidable. 
 
 This unpretending liltie treatise on a branch of science of the 
 highest importance, is submitted, not without a degree of diffi- 
 dence, to the consideration of teachers, by a co-worker in the great 
 €eld of instruction, as an earnest attempt, however imperfect may 
 have been its accomplishment, to subserve the general purposes 
 and interests of education. 
 
 [nF* It is due to say that the writer, owing to the pressure of 
 unremitting caves, found it necessary to employ another hand to 
 aid in the formation of the questions — and for this purpose has 
 availed himself of the assistance of an individual having the ex- 
 perience of many years as a teacher. 
 
 Note. — Owing to the distance of the author's residence from 
 the place of publication, he has been prevented from bestowing 
 that careful attention upon the revised sheets, which is at ail times 
 desirable, and hence^ some errors may possibly have escaped de- 
 tection — but there are none, it is believed, of material consequence, 
 or which the intelligent reader cannot easily for himself correct. 
 The only typographical errors of consequence yet disco verd are tha 
 following, viz: on page 110, second line from the top of the page, ' 
 for " monitors," read " monitions"— on page 93, eighth line frum 
 the top of the page, for " arises,-' read "arise." 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 IVTKOUUCTIOV. TaGIE. 
 
 I fttportancc of Mental Science, - - - - 13 
 
 1, It rel ites l<> u.irsolve.-*, - ... 16 
 
 2. A 9. ml uure iini> )rtaiit thin ihe whulc material Uni- 
 verse, - - ----- 20 
 
 PART I. 
 
 O? THE .Mi.vjj IS Gkmkral, 
 UUAPTF.R I. 
 J[;jw da wo gain any RnD'-vloJ^o of t;io mind 7 
 OiJiisciousness, . - - - 
 
 1. Priiii iry, - - - - 
 
 2, SccoaJary, or Re.loction, - 
 
 CIIAPTi^R II. 
 W'lit Is the mind ? - 
 
 I. SUBSTANTIVlTir, ... 
 II. SiMRlTUAMTir, . . - 
 
 III. Sklk-activity. - 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Olassiiicaiion of Mental Povveri, 
 
 I. l.VTKLLKCT, . . - 
 
 II. SuSCKl'TimUTY, ... 
 
 JII. The Will, 
 
 57 
 
 23 
 2!> 
 21^ 
 32 
 
 37 
 37 
 39 
 
 42 
 47 
 47 
 
 49 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Or The Lntkllect, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 S«a«ation and Perception, 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 Memory, . . . - 
 
 * CHAPTER III. 
 Conception, • . . . 
 
 Hi 
 51 
 56 
 
 G3 
 
Abstraction, 
 
 Judgment, or Reason, 
 I. Jntuiiion, 
 II. Reasosixg. 
 
 Imagination, 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Pa CI?, 
 - G7 
 
 72 
 
 80 
 
 The Desires, 
 
 PART III. 
 
 Of the SUSCEI'TIRIMTY, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The AFrrcTioNS, 
 Benevolent and Malevolent Affociions, 
 Uniting and Defensive A flections, 
 
 Calm and Violent Allections, 
 Anger, - - . - - 
 
 Hatred, . . - - 
 
 Revenge, - - . - 
 
 Admiration, . - - - 
 
 Pride, - . . - - 
 
 Vanity, - . . - - 
 
 Arrogance, - - - - 
 
 Insolence, . - - - 
 
 Benevolence, 
 
 Esteem, „ . - - . 
 
 Reverence, 
 Veneration, . . - . 
 
 Contempt, - . . - 
 
 Disdain, . . - - 
 
 Scorn, - . - - 
 
 Hope. . . . - - 
 
 Despair, - 
 
 Envy, _ . > , - 
 
 Fear, - - - - - 
 
 Love, . . - - - 
 
 Gratitude, - - - - 
 
 Jealousy, - - - - • 
 
 Joy, - - - 
 
 Gladness, . . - . 
 
 Mirth, - . - . 
 
 Exultation, - . . ■ 
 
 91 
 
 91 
 
 97 
 9H 
 '39 
 99 
 100 
 IGO 
 ICO 
 100 
 100 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 101 
 102 
 102 
 1C2 
 102 
 103 
 103 
 
CONTE^;TS. 
 
 Haplurc, 
 Ecstasy, 
 
 SOKKOW, 
 
 Grief, - 
 Trouble, 
 Anguish, 
 Rlisery, 
 Sympathv, 
 
 ShA;MK, 
 XJo.NSCIENCE, 
 
 Page. 
 
 - 103 
 103 
 
 102—103 
 103 
 
 - 103 
 103 
 
 - 103 
 103 
 
 - 103 
 103 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 Of Th k Will, - 
 CIIAFrEll I. 
 
 Ambiguity of Teums, 
 Will. 
 Volition, 
 Clx;)ic(S 
 rreforencc, 
 Artaclioas, 
 Lovo, - 
 Heart, 
 Disposition, 
 Desire, 
 Inclmatisii, 
 Propensity, 
 Purpose, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Volitions, . - - . 
 
 I. lUPEKATIVE, 
 
 II. Immanknt, . . - 
 
 III. .':>i;3oIiUI.NATE, - 
 
 IV. Pkeuomunant. 
 
 CHAPTER lil. 
 
 Frcctlotn of the Will, 
 
 I. What is mkaNt ey it, 
 11. Puoor, - . - - 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Conclusion, - - - - 
 
 I. The Vai.uk of the Soul, 
 II. Its Accountability, 
 
 no 
 
 113 
 114 
 114 
 115 
 115 
 115 
 11(> 
 116 
 116 
 116 
 117 
 117 
 113 
 
 119 
 119 
 120 
 121 
 121 
 
 126 
 132 
 133 
 
 13.. 
 135 
 13a 
 
xli CONTEXTS. 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 General rcmarl:e— Irregular end Diburdt red -ftlcntal Action, 143 
 
 SECTION I. 
 Dreaming, -...--- 147 
 
 SECTION II. 
 Somnanibulisai, ...-.- 165 
 
 SECTION III. 
 insanilv» .-.-.-- 174 
 
 SEC'I ION IV. 
 SpectKil Illusions, . . - - » IS$ 
 
/-, 
 
 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE 
 
 OF 
 
 MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 13IPORTANCE OF 3IEi\TAL SCIENCE. 
 
 1. The science of mind receives, generally, too liule 
 attention. Its value is not sufficiently appreciated. 
 ^'Know th3^self," enters too slightly into the purposes 
 i_of men. Erroneous and mistaken views of the ends, 
 objects and aims of the science prevail. Prejudices 
 founded in misconception, exist against it. The term 
 metaphysics, is regarded as a hard, if not a cabalistic 
 word. Metaphysical speculations are viewed with 
 aversion. The belief is entertained that they are 
 employed on subjects beyond the reach of the human 
 faculties. The opinion is also cherished, that such 
 investigations can have no practical relation to the 
 affairs of life. We live in a day whose leading, char- 
 acteristic spirit is evidently utilitarian. Hence arises 
 a great dislike for the exact and abstract sciences. 
 
 Questions. — 1. What is said of the eeience of mind? How is 
 it appreciated ? What enters loo slightly into the purposes of 
 men ? What erroneoui5 views prevail ? What prejudices exist 
 against it ? How is the term metaphysics regarded ? Define cab- 
 alistic ? A71S. Containing an occult, or hidden meaning. How 
 are metaphysical speculations viewed ? What belief is cntertain- 
 T'd 1 And what opinion cherished 7 What («pirit is prevalent 1 
 What is the result ? 
 
14 ELEMEMMARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 2. The learned nonsense of the schools has con- 
 tributed not a little to the unpopularity of mental 
 science. The absurdities of the ScJiolasiic Philosophy 
 it is true, have passed away. T'Ke influence of warm 
 and voluminous discussions, on many frivolous points, 
 involving childish weakness, may still remain, to ex- 
 cite prejudice against metaphysical enquiries. Hence' 
 may arise the notion of thoir inutility. During the 
 period, des-'griated as that of the School Philosophy, 
 lengthened discussions were had on such points as the 
 following : 
 
 3. Can the Deity exist in imaginary as well as in 
 real spa,ce ? Dogs the Deity love an angel which does 
 not, but which m.a]/ possibly exist, better than an in- 
 sect in real existence ? Is the essence of mind distinct 
 from its existence ?- Or, in other words, can its es- 
 sence exist, v/hen it has no actual existence *? Can 
 angels see objects in the dark ? Can they pass from 
 point to point in space, and not pass through the spaco 
 between 1 
 
 4. Such was the frivilous character of the specula- ■ 
 lions of the schools — as useless, as trifiing — evolving 
 no principle, eliciting no truth — and foreign to the 
 scope of true philosophical enquiry. At a later period, 
 the science was encumbered with other vagaries, as- 
 
 2. What has rendered mental science so unpopular ? What is 
 meant by Scaools, as used here ? A71S. The seminaries for teach- 
 ing logic, inetaphysics and theology:,, (school divinity) which v/ere 
 established in the miuule ages, and which were characterized by 
 academical disputations and subtleties of reasoning; or the learned 
 men who were engaged in discussing mere points in metaphysics 
 or theology. What has now passed away ? What may still re- 
 main ? What do they excite ? What is the effect ? 
 
 100 i 
 
 3. What questions did they discuss .'b/ring the penou of Be 
 Philosophy ? Are they important 1 Did (hey elicit truth 1 To 
 what v.'ere they foreign ? 
 
 4. At a lat&.'''period witli what was the science pncumbored T 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 15 
 
 for example, the inind cannot act where it is not pres- 
 ent, and consequently it cannot perceive external ob- 
 jects themselves, but only their images, which were said 
 to be conveyed through the medium of" the senses, and 
 represented to the mind in a manner similar to tlie rep- 
 resentations of images in a camera obscura. Bishop 
 Berkley and others of his school of philosophers, by a 
 very natural application of this theory, contended that 
 if the mind perceives only its own impressions or 
 images, v.-e can derive from our senses no evidence of 
 the existence of the external world; and Flume, push- 
 ing the doctrine still farther, contended that we could 
 have as little evidence of the existence of mind itself, 
 and that nothing exists except impressions and ideas. 
 
 5. These absurd viev/s, and fanciful and fallacious 
 theories, have been combatted and fully exposed ; and 
 whatever prejudice ^^ey may have been the means of 
 exciting against th#science of mind, to indulge such prej- 
 udices now, v/ould be manifestly unjust, since the inves- 
 tigations of intellectual philosophy are nov/ conducted 
 on entirely different and rational " principles, v/hich 
 cannot lead to such monstrous and absurd conclusions. 
 
 6. The investigations of true science are now prop- 
 erly limited to those enquiries coming within the scope 
 of human capability. It is at once admitted that there 
 are many things beyond our ken, impossible to be 
 comprehended by finite faculties, and the vain attempt 
 to account for every thing, is given up, as an effort 
 worse than fruitless. 
 
 Give an example of tliese vagaries ? Meaning of vagary ? Ans. 
 A whim. What application did Berkley make of this theory T 
 For v.'hat did Hume contend ? 
 
 5. Have these fanciful theories been combatted ? Should they 
 create any prejudice against the" science of mind now ? Why ? 
 
 6. To what are the investigations of this science now limited ? 
 What is admitted ? What attempt is considersd fruitless T 
 
 E 2 
 
16 ELEMEXrARY OUTLINE OE 
 
 7. Pvir. Ivocke's great work, the Es3?^Y on the Hu- 
 man Understanding owed its origin to the ielt necessity 
 of an examination of our own abilities, in order to see 
 what objects our understandings are, or are not fitted 
 to deal with, as v/e learn from that eminent author 
 himself. This distinction is of chief importance in the 
 investigations of mental science, as it disencumbers it 
 of the unsound and unphilosophical theories of the 
 scholastic and subsequent philosophers, and places it 
 upon the true basis of rational enquiry — enquiries 
 capable of being grasped and comprehended by the 
 human faculties. 
 
 8. The importance of this science deserves to be 
 more generally appreciated, for several reasons, and 
 among them the following : 
 
 (1.) It relates to ourselves. A man who despises 
 metaphysical enquiries, must regard his own nature as 
 unworthy of investigation or examination ; w^hile he 
 may perhaps regard the round of the other sciences of 
 the highest importance, and be well instructed therein. 
 What would be thought of a man who should exhibit 
 the strange inconsistency of being well versed in Geog- 
 raphy, for example, except that of his own country ? 
 Superficial at best must be that education, which has 
 never turned the thouglits inward, to scan the leading 
 characteristics and wonderful operations, of that im- 
 mortal principle which presides with such supreme 
 control, in its prison-house of clay. 
 
 7. To what did Mr. Locke's work owe its origin ? Of what 
 does this distinction disencumber mental science ? Upon what 
 basis docs it place it ? What is said o fth-ese enquiries ? 
 
 8. Why should this science be more generally appreciated ? 
 What is the first reason ? How does a man who despises meta- 
 physical enquiries regard his own nature V Still what may he re- 
 gard ? "What would such a man be like ? What is said of such a 
 superficial ed-acation ? 
 
MENTAL PHirogOPHY. 17 
 
 9. To live under the influence of mere animal pro- 
 j)ensities, yielding obedience to the grosser corporeal 
 appetites ; never taking cognizance of what passes in 
 our minds, is to live in profound ignorance of the 
 nobler part of our nature, of those high and ennobling 
 intellectual properties, perceptions and faculties be- 
 stowed upon us by Him whose creative power called 
 us into, and continues us in being. He who fashioned 
 our bodies, and mysteriously connected therewith that 
 intangible, spiritual essence which we call mind, alone 
 knows the nature of the connection between mind and 
 matter. Vain is the attempt of man to pry into these 
 hidden mysteries. By the term matter, we designate 
 that arrangement of properties which we call bodies, 
 j)Ossessing solidity, figure, extension, divisibility, occ, 
 and material substances are known to us only by these 
 properties. We feel within us a power which thinks, 
 and wills and reasons, and this power, or, as it may be 
 expressed, this arrangement of functions we call mind, 
 and by these functions only is it capable of being 
 known. Mat ter is the jo^j ^jj^^gLdOJAE^^-senses, mind is 
 t he object 0^~""^ 'Wl^fiirui^^'^^ In a strict sense, we 
 are as ignorant of the essential, hidden properties of 
 matter, as of mind. To pry into these deep mysteries, 
 especially by futile theorizing, is foreign to the pur- 
 poses of true philosophical science, whose legitimate 
 object is the investigation of facts, in relation to both 
 matter and mind. 
 
 9. How do we live if we yield obedience to our grosser appetites 
 aiid mere animal propensities 1 Who only knows the connection 
 between matter and mind 7 What is said of the attempt to pry 
 into the hidden mysteries ? What is meant by the terra matter ? 
 How are material aubslances known to us ? What power do we 
 feci witliin us 1 W^hat is this arrangement of functions called ? 
 How known 1 What is the object of our senses and our conscious- 
 ness ? Of what aio we ignorant ? Wliat is foreign to the pur- 
 poses of tnio philosophical s»cionoe ? 'WHiat is its legitimate object ? 
 
18 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 10. In this point of view — ihe investigation of facts, 
 as far as human faculties are capable of eliciting them — 
 the study of mental science is of great moment. By 
 such investigations, while we are led to know m6re of 
 our m.ental constitution, we are thereby enabled to 
 detect, and, to an extent at least, correct any defects 
 therein. Man, in his fallen state, is, at the best, but an 
 imperfect creature ; and as bodily malformations con- 
 stantly salute the eyes, it should by no means be matter 
 of surprise, that mental distortions also exist — and as 
 the skill of the anatomist may, to a degree, remedy the 
 deformities of the one, so scientific enquiry may aid in 
 correcting the faults of the other. A knowledge of 
 mental science, then, is of vast importance, as afford- 
 ing valuable hints, and extraordinary aid to parents 
 and teachers, in the training and education of children 
 and youth. Parents and teachers hold in their hands, 
 under God, the destinies of the world, through the in- 
 fluence which they exert upon the rising generation. 
 How important, then, that they have some insight into 
 the philosophy of mind, that they may be the better 
 qualified, and more capable to detect and uproot the 
 prurient propensities of youth, and stimulate and in- 
 vigorate those, in too many cases, weaker powers, that 
 are overmastered by raging passions, but upon the as- 
 cendency of which alone can characters of virtue and 
 excellence be established. 
 
 10. In what point of view does mental science appear of great 
 moment ? What will such investigations lead us to do ? What is 
 man in his present state of being ? What constantly salute the 
 eyes ? What then should not surprise us ? What will remedy 
 the one and correct the other ? Of what importance is a hnow- 
 ledge of mental science ? What do parents and teachers hold in 
 their hands ? In what manner ? What knowledge should they 
 possess ? Why ? Upon what alone etxn characters of virtuo and 
 excellence be established ? 
 
MFNTAL THiLOaOPIiV. 19 
 
 11. Mental science receives a groat degree Oi^ im- 
 portance from the fact, that it has an intimate relation- 
 ship to moral science, and the investigations of each, 
 almost insensibly blend, and run into each other. This 
 is an idea advanced by Stewart. He rcuiarks that the 
 connection between metaphj^sics and ethics is peculiarly 
 close, the theory of morals having furnished, ever sinca 
 the time of Cudworth, several of the most abstruse 
 questions, v/hich have been agitated concerning the 
 general principles, both intellectual and active, of the 
 human frame. Such being the fact, a process of in' 
 vestigation in mental science, must develop, almost 
 insensibly perhaps to the student, feelings of reveren- 
 tial awe, towards that great and infinitely wise Being, 
 the Creator of so wonderful a structure as that of tho 
 human mind. We may look out upon the face of na- 
 ture and find much to excite our wonder and admira- 
 tion — we may lift our eyes to the stupendous vault of ) 
 heaven, nlled with wheeling worlds and circlii-ig sys- I 
 terns, and bo led still more to wonder, and adore that { 
 great and incomp^-ehensibie power, which spoke them ( 
 from nothing, into existence, and holds them exactly 
 balanced in boundless space. 
 
 12. But when we look within, and take cogni- 
 
 11. From vdiat feet does mental seierice roceiva ti f-i'out degrea 
 of impoitance ■? What is Mr. Stewart's remark? Wjjat has «ii3 
 theory of morals farnishtHl since the time of Cudworth ? Who 
 was Cudworth ? Ans. A learned English divine and philosopher, 
 who published, in iG78, his grand work entitled, " The true in- 
 tellectual System of the Universe," in which he confuted all tlio 
 Reason and Philosophy of Atheism, and demonstrated its Impossi- 
 Lility. What feelings vvili an investigation of mental science nat- 
 v;rally develop ? What state of mind is 'naturally prodnced by 
 contemplating the beauties of nature, and the splendor of tho 
 vaulted heavens 1 
 
 12. What are the emotions when wo t<irn our eyes vvithin and 
 teks cognizance of tl^ie wond&ifu] stracturo of iha human miud ? 
 
20 SLEWENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 zance of the v/onderful mechanism, if it may so be 
 called, of the human mind, regard its powers of taking 
 into view, as it were, at a glance, all the glories of the 
 visible creation ; of looking out of its clayey tenement, 
 and glancing from earth to heaven, and from heaven 
 to earth again, (for, in the language of poetical in- 
 spiration, 
 
 " Row fleet ia a glance of the mind ! 
 
 Compared with the speed of its flight, 
 The tempest itself lags behind, 
 
 And the awift winged arrowa of light.") 
 
 when we thus, we repeat, take cognizance of this 
 wonderful structure, we feel impressed with the.trutir, 
 that the incomprehensible power and wisdom of cre- 
 ative energy is more fully unfolded in the creation 
 of the human mind, than in all the material universe 
 tCKgether, having fully in view, in making this declara- 
 tion, the wonders brought to view by the researches of 
 natural science, and all the glories of creation, unfolded 
 by astronomical discoveries. How impressive then 
 must be the lessons taught us, in investigating the 
 science of mind; with what reverence, with what 
 adoration shall we be forced to contemplate its ador- 
 able Author, the great First Cause of all things. 
 
 12. The importance of mental science is vastly 
 magnified, when we come to consider the value of the 
 mind, the human soul, this indestructible fabric, as im- 
 mortal as he who formed it. This consideration is 
 worthy of more than a passing remark, for, 
 
 14. (2.) A soul is more important than the whole 
 
 VvTiat do we have in view when wo make this declaration ? What 
 lessons are taught us by investigating the science of mind, and 
 xvhat feelings avc excited towards the Great First Cause of all 
 things ? 
 
 13. How does the importance of this science become magnified ? 
 
 14. Why worthy of more than a papsiiig remark ? Who knows 
 
MINTAL PHILOSOPHY. tl 
 
 material universe. He, from whose creative energies 
 sprang this undying, living principle, must be supposed 
 to understand its worth, and he has negatively, but 
 solemnly affirmed its value, in the momentous enquiry : 
 What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole v/orid, 
 and lose his own soul — an enquiry, the full purport of 
 which, eternity alone can unfold to us. Indeed, noth- 
 ing short of infinite intelligence, can comprehend, in 
 all its extent, the value of that immortal treasure, 
 whose destiny, under him, is committed to our charge ; 
 or how essential to our happiness here and hereaiier, 
 is the culture of our intellectual powers. God created 
 man for high and noble purposes, and endowed him 
 with a livin^g soul of various faculties. 
 
 " Man he made of angel form erccf, 
 To hold coinniunion with the hea^'ens abov«. 
 And on his soul impressed his image fair, 
 His own similitude of holiness, 
 Of virtue, truth and love; with reason high 
 To balance right and wrong, and conscience quiok, 
 To choose or to reject; with knowledge great, 
 Prudence and Aviidom, vigilance and strength. 
 To guard all force or guile; and last of all, 
 The highest gifi of Gcd's abundant grace, 
 With perfect, free, unbiased will.'* 
 
 15. When we consider that the human mind, like 
 its great Author, is immortal, we are at once conducted 
 to the discovery of a resemblance between it &.nd that 
 mind in whose image it was originally created — a view 
 which greatly enhances its importance, and which 
 should animate us with a desire to become acquainted, 
 
 its valiio ? What has he afliruied respecting it ? Who alouo can 
 comprehend the value of the soul in all its extent ? What h e»- 
 rential to our happiness here and hereafter ? For what waa ma* 
 rjeated, and with what endowed ? 
 
 15. ^^'hat consideration leads to a di3oo"V"ery of a reeembiaiioe 
 b©t-we«in the btimcn end divins mhrd ? With -w-bv^t do&ir€ shoT.W 
 b3 
 
22 ELEMENTARY OTJTLIME 07 
 
 at least, with its leading phenomena, it is mind that 
 gives all of worth, and dignity to man that he pos- 
 sesses. Wonderful as is his physical conformation, 
 much more wonderful is the structure of mind. The 
 body is valueless in the comparison. Abstract from 
 ity its intelligent, undying inhabitant, and the body at 
 once falls into ruins, an inert and worthless mass, re- 
 turning to its kindred dust. Intrinsically considered, 
 then, the body is of no value. It derives its conse- 
 quence solely from its association and connection with 
 mind. It is but the engine, if we may so speak, to 
 which the motive power of the soul is applied, in car- 
 rying on its various operations, while stationed in a 
 world of probation. 
 
 16. That which is immortal must incalculably sur- 
 pass in value and importance that which is mortal, and 
 perishable. But the body dies, and returns to earth. 
 The soul survives. This asserts its superiority. Yea, 
 more, the earth shall decay, and the elements melt 
 with fervent heat. The soul lives on. What shall it 
 profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and lose his 
 own soul 1 The world itself, then, dv/indies to naught 
 in the comparison of value. Still more: in the pro- 
 gress of the designs of the Almighty, the period v/ill 
 arrive, when the whole material Universe shall have 
 passed away. But the soul will survive, increasing, 
 and ever enlarging in capacity, and through the ever 
 revolving, endless cycles of an incomprehensible eter- 
 nity, it shall live on, parallel, in point of duration, 
 with the existence of its Maker. The v/hole physical 
 
 a view of this discovery animate its ? What alone gives dignity 
 to man ? What is said of his physical and mental structure l What 
 does tha body become when the mind leaves it ? From what does 
 it receive its consequence ? What is the body called ? 
 16, What asserts the superiority of the rouI ? Hoxv long will it 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 23 
 
 creation itself, then, shrinks into insignificance, in tho 
 comparis.^n oi* vakie with a single soui. The proposi- 
 tion, therefore, is established, that the soul — one soul, 
 is more important than the whole material universe. 
 
 17. How, in this point of view, swells the import- 
 ance of faithfully cultivating a knowledge of mental 
 science. True, indeed, we m.ay know much of the 
 human mind, without going through with the formal 
 process of studying it. By a law of its constitution, 
 it necessarily gives to itself some knowledge of its 
 powers, and a knowledge of its acts. But by turning 
 our thoughts inward, and investigating their powers 
 and their operations, in short, by a voluntary, patient, 
 continuous, even laborious attention to the subjects of 
 our own consciousness, we may familiarize this gen- 
 eral knov/ledge v/hich wo possess, and render it far 
 more available, in developing ourselves to ourselves, 
 and in enabling us to ascertain our relations and du- 
 ties, to ourselves, to our fellow-kind, and to God. 
 
 18. Another consideration, going vastly to magnify 
 the importance of the study of mental science, is do^ 
 rived from the fact, that, as President Edwai'ds has 
 very justly remarked, we can know nothing respect- 
 ing God, except what we learn from t)ur own minda. 
 When told that God thinks, that he feels, that he 
 chooses, we knov/ nothing respecting his actions, un- 
 less we take the acts of our own minds as a criterion, 
 and judge respecting the acts of the Divine mind, by 
 
 survive ? Parallel with what shall ita existence be proloaged ? 
 What proposition ir, established t 
 
 17. In this point of view, what esorns of great importance ? Cam 
 ■we know any thing of the mind without a fomial study of it ? By 
 what law does it give itself some knowledge of its own powers and 
 acts ? How may we familiarize the general knowledge we pos- 
 sess and render it available ? In what respects available ? 
 
 18. What other ronsideraticn vestiy magniSes the importance 
 
24 £tfiME?.^TARY dUTLlNE Of 
 
 our own» We judge, also, what the powers and fk«- 
 ulties of the Divine mind are by our own. 
 
 19. If God possesses any mental faculty different in 
 kind from ours, w-e are not only ignorant of it, but^ 
 from the very nature of the case, we can but be ignor- 
 ant. We cannot be informed what it is, for language 
 is incompetent to give us an-y ideas which are not al- 
 ready in the mind. Our ideas of external objects are 
 derived from ezperience, and cannot be described in 
 words so as to be understood by those who have never 
 perceived them. For example, the idea of sound can- 
 not be conveyed to a man born deaf, for, cut cff from 
 any experience on the subject,, the mind has no con- 
 ception of it. So in the case of a man blind from his 
 birth ; he can have no conception of light or color* 
 and as the idea of color, by experience, has not been 
 implanted in his mind, no form of language which can 
 be employed, can possibly convey such idea to him* 
 This w-as illustrated in the case of the philosopher^ 
 who attempted in the most pains-taking and laborious 
 manner to convey to a blind man a notion of scarlet^ 
 by the employnient of every form of langua.ge which 
 he could conceive as at all adequate to such a purpose. 
 After thus laboring, he asked him v/hether he thought 
 he had some idea of it. Yes, replied the blind man^ 
 scarlet must, from your account, be the nearest thing 
 in the v/orld to the sound of a trumpet I 
 
 of mental science ? Hov/ do \vc know &ny thing respecting ihe- 
 ac'dons of God? How do we judge what the powers and faculties 
 of the Divine mind are ? - 
 
 19. If Uod possess any mental faculty different from ours, aye 
 we ignorant of it ? Why must we remain so ? How do we de- 
 rive ouiT knowledge of external things? Can these ideas be undeiv 
 Etood by one who has not this experience 1 What is srid of those 
 who Ei-eBorn deaf and blind? How is it IMuslrated in the case of 
 the philoaopher 7 Kov/ did the blind man reply ? 
 
ME-NTAL PHILOSOPHT. t5 
 
 20. Language, therefore, can convey to the mind 
 no ideas which are not there already, as the product of 
 our experience, or our consciousness. If, then, thero 
 is any faculty in the Divine mind of which we have 
 no idea, we have no words to express it, and conse- 
 quently the idea cannot he conveyed to us by language. 
 All our ideas of God, then, are founded upon our know- 
 ledge of a human mind. We remove limits from the 
 latter, and then we have the only conception which we 
 can ibrm of Him in whoso image we are made, 
 ^ 21. Another consideration, going to enibrce the im- 
 portance of mental science as a study, is derived from 
 the fact, that the only knowledge which we have of our 
 feilow-men, is also derived from our self-knowledge. 
 Reasoning on the principle that human minds are 
 alike — that they ^re endowed with the same powers — 
 that they perform the same acts, we conclude that what 
 we find in ourselves, is also to be found in our fellow- 
 men. It is thus that we interpret their language. 
 When one of them says, "I choose thus" — v/e judge 
 respecting his act, by what we know of our own 
 choices. If we did not know by consciousness what 
 choice is, his words would convey to us no more idea 
 than the words " green" or " red" to one who had been 
 blind from his birth. 
 
 22. As a concluding consideration, enforcing the 
 
 20. When can language convey no ideas to the mind ? If there 
 is any faculty in the Divine mind of which we have no idea, can 
 we obtain any ivnowledge of it ? Why ? Upon what are our ideas 
 of God founded ? If we remove limits from the mind, of what, 
 will it give us a conception ? 
 
 )il. What consideration is still urged to show the importance of 
 mental science ? How do we reason to come to the conclusion 
 that what we find in ourselves is also to be found in our feliow- 
 raen ? When one says " I choose thus," how are we able to un- 
 derstand him ? 
 
 7-2. What is the concluding coneideration enforcing the impor- 
 
26 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE 0? 
 
 importance of this science, we would urge, that w© 
 must also know ourselves, before we can understand 
 the relations which we sustain to God and our fellov/- 
 creatures. The more we know of our own constitu- 
 tion, the better shall we understand what duties we 
 owe to other beings — the better can we appreciate the 
 true dignity of man as a morally accountable, and in- 
 telligent being — the better can v/e understand the 
 character and the attributes of God — the better shall 
 we be enabled to apprehend our moral as well as our 
 mental wants — the better shall we be enabled to re- 
 press our grosser corporeal propensities, and the more 
 to relish what pertains to pure mind — in fine, we shall 
 be better parents, teachers, brothers, sisters, citizens, 
 and members of community; better christians, more 
 devout worshippers of Him v/ho form.ed us in his own 
 similitude, whose we are, and whom to serve is life 
 eternal. 
 
 tance of this science? What shall we better understand, if we 
 have a thorough self acquaintance ? What can we better appre- 
 ciate ? What understand? What apprehend ? What repress f 
 And to relish what? In fine, what shall we become? In what 
 will the service of God result ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 27 
 
 PART I. 
 
 OF THE MIND IN GENERAL. 
 
 1. Man is a complex being, part body and part 
 mind, which parts are connected together, in intimate 
 relationship, but hov/ they are connected, and how 
 they mutually act and operate upon, and influence 
 each other, being beyond the reach of human faculties 
 to discern, is not the proper subject matter of our en- 
 quiry, or of any philosophical enquiry. The investiga- 
 tion of facts known to exist, and not vain and useless 
 theories and speculations, as to how they exist, is the 
 true object and end of philosophical science. 
 
 2. Matter and mind are considered by philosophical 
 writers as merely relative terms. If asked to explain 
 what we mean by matter, we can answer only by de- 
 scribing its sensible properties, regarding it as a some- 
 thing which possesses solidity, extension, figure, color, 
 &;c. Ofmatter then, we are not sensible, except by a ref- 
 erence to those properties. It is, likewise, so in regard 
 to mind. We are not conscious of its distinct and 
 abstract existence. We are conscious of certain in- 
 ternal states, for example, thought, feeling, v/illing; 
 and hence we infallibly know, that there must be 
 something within us, which thinks, feels, and wills, and 
 this v/e call mind. 
 
 3. W^e are impressed, also, with the most unhesitat- 
 ing conviction, that these thoughts, feelings, and sen- 
 
 1. Whfit is man? What is not the subject raalter of our en. 
 ■quiry ? Why ? W'hat is the true object of philosophical sciencs 7 
 
 2. How are mind and matter considered by philosophers T 
 What is meant by matter ? What is said of mind ? Of what are 
 we and of what are v/s not ccuscious ? Then whr.t do we knew 1 
 
 ,?. Of what ere wc also impressed 1 
 
28 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 sations belong to one and the same being; and that 
 being we call ourself- — a being, which, from the con- 
 stitution of our nature, we are compelled to regard as 
 distinct from the body, and as capable of survivmg tho 
 mutilations and decay of bodily organs. 
 
 4, The evidence, then, which we have of the exis- 
 tence of mind, is not only the same as that which wo 
 have of the existence of m.atter, but, in truth, is of a 
 more conclusive character; for the evidence of the 
 existence of the former, is produced by the subjects of 
 our consciousness, while that of the latter rests upon 
 the objects of our perceptions. 
 
 5. in the further progress of this branch of our en- 
 quirj^, we shall endeavor to show, first. How vje gain 
 any knowledge of the mind: enquire. What is the 
 mind : and attend to a Classijicaiion of Mental powers. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 How DO WE GAIN ANY KNOWLEDGE OF TIIE MiND I 
 
 1. Our knowledge of mind is derived from its own 
 action. In a state of entire inactivity, or suspension, 
 there could be no consciousness of its existence, and of 
 course no knowledge of mind would subsist. On the 
 other hand, action necessarily superinduces conscious- 
 ness, and it is entirely impossible for the mind to exist 
 
 4. What evidence have we of the existencs of mind ? Upon 
 ■what does the evidence of the esisteuce of matter rest? Upon 
 wJiat does that of mind ? 
 
 5. Wiiat attempt vv'ill bemads in tlie fartlier progress of ihia 
 branch of our enquiry ? 
 
 Chap. I. — 1. From what is alinowkugc of mind derived? Wiist 
 is said of a etate of entire ina-ctiviiy '\ What aloea ectioa auperia- 
 
MENTAL pniLOSOPHY. 39 
 
 in a state of activity, and not possess a knowledgo of 
 itself, of its slates and operations. These states and 
 operations become objects of knowledge, concerning 
 which, as a matter of course, ideas and notions are 
 formed. As, then, the knowledge of the mind itself, 
 and all our ideas or notions of mental facts, originate 
 in consciousness, this subject should receive a distinct 
 consideration. 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 1. Primary. 
 
 2. Secondary or Reflection. .0 
 
 2. Consciousness, in its simple sense may be defined 
 to be that by which we perceive and attend to what 
 passes in our ovv^n minds. In a more extended sense, 
 it implies that operation, distinguished from simple con- 
 sciousness, which involves the power of remembering 
 past mental states, of giving attention to, and reflecting 
 upon the phenomena of the mind, in order to ascertain 
 the laws by which it is governed. It is important here 
 to make and define a clear distinction between the 
 simple and more extended sense of the term conscious- 
 ness, which we shall do by the use of the terms Prim- 
 ary and »Seco?2(rZGr?/ Consciousness ; intending thereb}^ 
 to distinguish primarily, the knowledge of Conscious- 
 ness, from secondarily, the knoioledge of reflection. 
 
 3. The mental state, in many instances, may be 
 distinguished from its object. For example, I see an 
 
 duce ? What does the mind possess in this state ? What do these 
 states and operations become ? What are formed ? What origin- 
 ate in consciousness ? 
 
 2. How is consciousness defined ? In a more extended sense 
 what does it imply ? How is consciousness divided 1 What do 
 these two states distinguish? 
 
 3. In many instances how may the mental state bo distingmeh- 
 
so ELEMENTARY OUTLINE Ol' 
 
 object, namely, a ship. Here the mental state and tha 
 object may be distinguished, the one from the other. 
 During the continuance of the particular mental state 
 the object principally engages the mind, though not 
 entirely. We must needs give some heed to the men- 
 tal state itself, as well as to its object, otherwise we 
 certainly could not know of the existence of the par- 
 ticular mental state. For illustration, take the passion 
 of Anger. When, by it, the mind is excited, we must 
 be conscious of the particular mental state, and of 
 course yield some attention to it, else how shall we 
 know that we are angry ; while at the same time the 
 object of our anger, and not the attention to the men- 
 tal state itself, mainly engrosses the mind. 
 
 4. Consciousness is knowledge, co-existing with the 
 thing known — that is, the knowledge, and the thing 
 which is the object of the knov/ledge, exist at the same 
 instant of tim.e. For example, in the case of Anger, 
 just alluded to, the particular state of mind involved, 
 and the object involved in it, have a; simultaneous ex- 
 istence, and there seems to be, necessarily, a sufficient 
 degree of attention given, to av/aken a consciousnesa 
 of the particular mental state, and of the object of it, 
 as both co-existent. The degree of attention to the 
 mental state, however, is slight, and the co-existence 
 of the mental state and the object, preclude the possi- 
 bility of any process of memory or reflection — for tho 
 memory of past anger, is not itself anger. In other 
 words, the remem.brance of a past mental slate, does 
 not revive the existence of that state itself, but only 
 
 ed ? Give the example ? What principally engages the atten- 
 tion ? What must-vve give some heed to? Or what would b» 
 the result 1 How is it illustrated by the passion of ar.ger ? 
 
 4. Consciousness is knowledge co-exisiing with what? What 
 then exist at the same time ? How is it 'illustrated 1 What doeai 
 ftttemion to both awaken ? What do they preclude ? Wha: do©« 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 31 
 
 the remembrance of a past consciousness. In th© 
 latter case the mental state is that of memory, in the 
 former case the mental state was that of* actual, pres- 
 ent, existing cognition — or simple primary conscious- 
 ness. 
 
 5. Such then is the nature of mind in its more ordi- 
 nary states, that we seem to be led to give our atten- 
 tion, mainly, to the object of these states, rather than 
 to co-existing states themselves. 
 
 6. From what has already been said, it will at once 
 be inferred, that it is not in this Primary Conscious- 
 ness, that we form distinct views of mental facts — that 
 we take cognizance of mental processes — analyze com- 
 plex states of mind — or investigate, combine and classify 
 the various mental phenomena. This consciousness, 
 though, as we have seen, a slight degree of attention 
 is involved in it, is not v9iiinlary^ but arises from the 
 very nature and constitution of the mind, as necessarily 
 attending to, and knowing its own states and operations. 
 In transient states of mind, this consciousness is tran- 
 sient, and so on the other band, in n:iore permanent 
 states, it has also a co-existing permanency. 
 
 ^7. Consciousness, therefore, considered apart from 
 any acts of attention, or any greater degree of atten- 
 tion than that to v/hich we have just alluded, is an in- 
 voluntary state of mind. We may voluntarily, by 
 efforts adapted to that end, induce certain processes, 
 and effect changes in states of mind, but the knowledge 
 
 A remembrance of a past mental state revive 1 What is the mental 
 state in the latter case ? In the former \vhat ? 
 
 5. Snch being the nature of mind, what are we led to do ? 
 
 6. What will at once be inferred ? What is involved in primary 
 consciousness ? Is it voluntary ? From what does it arise 7 What 
 ip said of it in transient and permanent states of mind ? 
 
 7. What is said of consciousness apart from any acts of atten- 
 Uoa ? What may we by efforts adapted to that end induce ? Doe* 
 
32 ELEMEA^TABY OUTLINE OF 
 
 thereby derived, of the objects presented, do not depend 
 on any act of the will. It is in this case as in percep- 
 tion: we may put forth activity/ in bringing externnj 
 objects to view — may place them in various ordei', for 
 the purpose of minute and exact examination, and yet 
 the knowledge obtained is not dependent on an act of 
 will. We are obliged to see certain objects when 
 brought before the eye, and to hear certain sounds ; 
 and when certain substances, suited to excite those 
 sensations, come in contact with the body, v/e neces- 
 sarily and involuntarily taste, feel, and smell. Pre- 
 cisely the same is it in operations and states of the 
 mind. We learn by consciousness what meaning is 
 conveyed by certain w^ords, for example, reason, com- 
 pare, joy, sorrow, doult, assent; just as by perception 
 we gain a knowledge of sweet, green, soft, cold. It is 
 impossible for us to compare, reason, abstract, or to 
 feel pleasure, pain, disgust, and the mind not,frcm the 
 very constitution of it, entertain necessarily, and in- 
 voluntarily, a consciousness of those states. 
 
 8. Primary consciousness, then, is not a voluntary 
 state, nor is ihere any thing involved in it, which m-ay 
 properly be called reflection • 
 
 9. Secondary Consciousness very nearly resem- 
 bles the former, and is easily confounded with it. But 
 it differs in this, namely, it is a voluntary state, and it 
 involves reflection. In the former, the degree of at- 
 tention to the mental state was slight, being mainly 
 fixed upon its object ; in this, the attention is greater, 
 and has reference more particularly to the mental 
 state, than to its object. 
 
 the knowledge derived depend upon the will ? How is this state 
 compared with perception ? What do we learn by consciousness ? 
 How compared with perception ? What is impossible ? 
 
 8. What is said of primary consciousness ? 
 
 9= What of secondary ? How do they differ ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY 38 
 
 10. Reflection, which is involved in our secondary 
 division of consciousness, is an extensive operation. 
 It seems to be connected with a remembrance of past 
 sensations, and mental states, and the power of com- 
 paring them with present, existing states, and perceiv- 
 ing the relations which they bear to each other, as 
 pertaining to ourself, as one and the same percipient 
 and sentient being. It is also connected with the 
 power of examining and investigating the laws by 
 which mental processes themselves are governed. 
 
 11. This (involving reflection) is a complex state 
 of mind, and includes various mental phenomena, or 
 processes, particularly, consciousness, memory and 
 comparison or judgment. 
 
 12. Consciousness, in a strict sense, refers only to 
 present time, and present feelings, and does not take 
 cognizance of past states, as existing realities. For 
 example : we were conscious of certain feelings, or 
 mental states yesterday, or one hour ago, or even a 
 moment past — but we can not truly be said, to be 
 conscious of those feelings now^ but only conscious of 
 the recollection of them. But of any mental facts or 
 states pertaining to the existing moment, we may be 
 conscious. 
 
 13. " There is," remarks Dr. Brown, "one sense, 
 in which we talk of a consciousness of a feeling, and a 
 sense, in which it must be allowed, that the conscious- 
 ness is not precisely the same as the feeling itself. 
 This is, when we speak of a feeling, not actually ex- 
 isting, at present, but past — as when we say that we 
 are conscious of having seen, or heard, or done some- 
 
 10. What is said of reflection ? With what is it connected? 
 
 11. What phenomena does this state of mind include ? 
 
 12. In a strict sense to v.-liat docs consciousness refer 7 Give 
 the example ? 
 
 13. What is Dr Brown's remark ? When is such a use of the 
 
34 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 thing. Such a use of the term, however, is pardona- 
 ble only in the privileged looseness and inaccuracy of 
 familiar conversation ; the consciousness in this case, 
 being precisely synonymous with the remembrance or 
 memory, and not a power different from the remem- 
 brance. The remembrance of the feeling, and the 
 vivid feeling itself, indeed, are different. But the 
 remembrance, and the consciousness of the remem- 
 brance, are the same ; as the consciousness of a sen- 
 sation, and the sensation are the same; and to be 
 conscious that we have seen and spoken to any one, is 
 only to remember that we have seen and spoken to him. 
 14. When we think of feelings long past, it is impos- 
 sible for us not to be aware that our mind is, then, truly 
 retrospective, and memory seems to us sufhcient to 
 account for the whole. But when the retrospect is of 
 very recent feelings — of feelings, perhaps, that existed 
 as distinct states of the mind, the very moment our 
 retrospect began, the short interval is forgotten, and 
 we think that the primary feeling, and our considera- 
 tion of the feeling, are strictly simultaneous. We 
 have a sensation — v/e look instantly back on that sen- 
 sation — such is consciousness, as distinguished from 
 the feeling that is said to be its object. When it is any 
 thing more than the sensation, thought or emotion, of 
 which v/e are said to be conscious, it is a brief and 
 rapid retrospect. Its object is not a present feeling, 
 but a past feeling, as truly as wdien we look back, not 
 on the moment imm.ediately preceding, but on some 
 distant event or emotion of our boyhood. 
 
 term pardonable ? With what is it synonymous ? What are dif- 
 ferent and what tiie same ? How is it corr;pared with sensation? 
 14. Of what are we aware when we think of feelings long past 7 
 Why do we think that a feeling and a consideration of it are sim- 
 ultaneous ? IJow is consciousness distinguished from it? When 
 i? it a brief and rapid retrospect ? Whnt is its object said to be? 
 
MENTAL FHILOtiOPHY. 35 
 
 15. Corxscionsness, concludes Dr. Brown, in its 
 simplest acceptation, when it is understood as regard- 
 ing the present only, is no distinct power, or name of 
 a distinct clriss of feelings, but is only a general term 
 for all our feelings, of whatever species tliese may be, 
 sensations, thoughts, desires — in short, all those states 
 or affections of mind, in which the phenomena of mind 
 consist ; and when it expresses more than this, it is 
 only the remembrance of some former state of the 
 mind, a,nd a feeling of the relation of the past and 
 present, as states of one sentient substance." 
 
 18. By the exercise of consciousness, the mind be- 
 comes impressed with certain instinctive convictions, 
 or intuitive principles of belief. For example : " I 
 exist." " Every effect must have a cause," are propo- 
 sitions which the mind instinctively rests upon as true, 
 by an attention to its own consciousness, and no pro- 
 cess of reasoning or induction can either strengthen 
 its conviction or weaken its belief, in their absolute 
 verity. To attempt to prove them by any other pro- 
 cess, than an appeal to consciousness, serves but to 
 darken counsel ; to doubt their truth, brings into sus- 
 picion the soundness of our own intellects. 
 
 17. As we have already seen, it is the peculiar of- 
 fice-work of consciousness to inform us of the present 
 existence of our various passions, affections and men- 
 tal operations. Upon the evidence of it, rests the 
 whole superstructure of mental science. No evidence 
 is entitled to higher authority, when accurcitoly and 
 
 15. When consciousness regards the present only for whai is it 
 a general term ? When it expresses more than this what is it ? 
 
 1(1. By the c:-:crcise of consciousness wiLh what does the mind 
 become impressed? Give the example? How does the mind 
 eonsider these propositions ? How 7 WHiat is said of an attempt 
 lo prove them ? Of doubting their truth what? 
 
36 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 precisely developed ; and, therefore, no knowledge can 
 rest upon a firmer basis, than that which is founded 
 upon it. 
 
 18. It is not always easy to trace with precision the 
 subjects of our consciousness, and those who are unac- 
 customed to mental investigations, and analysis, and 
 who do not habitually give som.e heed to their internal 
 states, are liable to mistakes, and to make a wrong ap- 
 plication of the evidence derived from it. Hence the 
 importance of a thorough and patient attention to the 
 subjects of our own consciousness. 
 
 19.1 think, I believe, I doubt, I reason, I compare ; 
 I feel sorrow, anger, disgust, joy ; I remember my past 
 personal history, or any event which has transpired. 
 These are facts which rest upon the testimony of con- 
 sciousness. I cannot doubt, no sophisms, however in- 
 geniously contrived, no combination of circumstances, 
 nay, the whole world, cannot cause me to doubt their 
 reality, while my mind performs its healthful functions. 
 
 20. Persons of all classes, of different ages, and dif- 
 ferent measures of intellectual maturity, have in ex- 
 ercise this power, or principle of consciousness, in a 
 greater or less degree, and the subjects about which 
 it is exercised, must, from the constitution and nature 
 of the mind, necessarily, be the internal, mental states 
 and phenomena of that being, that sentient I, which 
 each one calls, and thus knows to be, hixMself. 
 
 17. What is the peculiar office of consciousness ? What rests 
 upon its evidence ? What is said of this evidence ? 
 
 18. What is not easy to do ? Who are liable to mistakes ? What 
 tlien is important ? 
 
 19. What cannot one doubt while the mind performs its health- 
 ful functions 7 
 
 20. Who exercise this power of consciousness ? What must 
 the subject be, about which it is exercised? 
 
MENTAL PHILOf-OrilY. 57 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 What is the Mixd ? 
 
 1. The mind is a self-active, spiritual substance, en- 
 dowed with the powers of thought, feeling and choice. 
 
 2. This definition will lead us to refer this branch 
 of our enquiry to the three following heads, viz : 
 
 I. SUBST ACTIVITY. 
 
 II. Spirituality. 
 ill. Self-activity. 
 
 3. I. Substantivity. By substance is meant 
 something which exists, independently of any thing in 
 which it inheres. There are some things which cnn- 
 not exist independently. For example, solidity is a 
 property of matter, and is found wherever matter is, 
 but does not, and cannot exist independently of matter. 
 So thought, feeling and choice are properties of mind, 
 and exist only as the substance exists to which they 
 belong. 
 
 4. There are other things which are not tlius de- 
 pendent for their existence. These we call substances. 
 They have an existence, independently of any thing 
 else, and are the things to which properties belong. 
 Thus matter is a substance. Solidity, extension, di- 
 visibility, are properties which belong to it. 
 
 Chap. II. — 1. Wliatis the mind,"and with \vhat is it endowed'? 
 
 2. This branch of our enquiry is referred to how many lieads ? 
 
 3. liow is substantivity defined ? Can every thing exist inde- 
 pendently ? Give the example? What is said of thought, feel- 
 ing, and choice ? 
 
 4. What do we call substances ? Name a substance 1 Whr.t 
 belongs to it ? 
 
 C 
 
38 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 5. The mind is also a substance. There is some- 
 thing which thinks, feels, and chooses. Every man 
 whose mind has not been perverted, will say, if asked^ 
 that there is not only thought, and feeling, and choice, 
 but that there is something which thinks, feels, and 
 chooses. The language of mankind shows that this is 
 the view which they take. Such language as "I 
 think," "I remember," "I hope," '"I feel," impli^ 
 that there are not only these mental acts, but that 
 there is an agent who puts them forth. 
 
 6. If it is the competent, unperverted decision of the 
 human mind that the soul is an agent, a something 
 which originates mental action, then the speculations 
 of those who deny it, are of no weight. A decision of 
 common sense outweighs all the dogmas of philosophy. 
 Where the two are opposed the latter must yield. 
 
 7. We are not conscious of the existence of the ex- 
 ternal world. We are conscious, however, of percep- 
 tions in our minds of external objects, and we know 
 there are external objects which excite these percep- 
 tions. When we see design, we know that there is a 
 designer, as really as we know that there is design. 
 When we see a tree, or a house, we know that there 
 IS a tree or a house, as really as we know that we per- 
 ceive such an object. 
 
 8. So when we are conscious of our mental acts, we 
 know that there is something which puts them forth. 
 The mind gives us the knowledge of itself, as truly as 
 it gives us the knowledge of its mental acts. 
 
 5. What else is called a substance 1 Wliat will every unper- 
 verled mind assent to ? What does the language of mankind 
 show ? What does such language as " I think," &c., imply t 
 
 6. What is said of the decision of the human mind, that the soul 
 jg an agent ? What is said of a decision of common sense 1 
 
 7. Of what are we not, and of what are we conscious ? What 
 do we know ? - ■ 
 
 B. What is said of our mental acts ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 39 
 
 9. We, therefore, conceive of mind as a substance 
 or entity, which so subsists by itself, as not necessarily 
 to be dependent on any other being or thing whatever. 
 Thought, feeling, choice, are dependent upon mind. 
 They are, therefore, the inherent propertie-s of an in- 
 dependent substance, and that substance we call mind. 
 
 10. II. Spirituality. The mind is a Spiritual 
 Substance. That which thinks, chooses, remembers, 
 and reasons, is a spiritual, not a material thing. Mat- 
 ter does not, cannot think. Nor can any organization 
 or modification of matter produce thought. We know 
 on what particular organ the mind is dependent for its 
 knowledge of sound and color, taste and smell, but 
 with what part of the body, memory, for example, or 
 reason, or imagination, is connected, we do not know ; 
 nor can we explain the exercise of these faculties, by 
 any experiments upon matter, but only by attending to 
 what passes in our minds. We are in the habit of 
 saying that the impressions are carried to the brain, 
 but even in this we probably advance a step beyond 
 what is warranted. But it may, nevertheless, be true 
 that the brain is the instrument of thought : still it does 
 not originate thought, any more than the eye originates 
 sight, or the limbs motion. The brain, the eyes, and 
 the limbs, can be nothing more than the instruments 
 of thought, sight, and motion. 
 
 11. By means of the corporeal senses, the mind re- 
 ceives impressions from the material world, derives its 
 
 9. What do we conceive of mind ? What are dependent upon 
 it ? What is said of them ? 
 
 10. In reference to spirituality what is the mind ? What is said 
 of it ? What cannot matter do ? What do we, and what do wc 
 not know .' Can we explain the exercise of these faculties ? How ? 
 What are we in the habit of sa^nng ? What may this be doing T 
 Yet what is probably true ? What is said of the brain? 
 
 11. What is said of the corporeal senses ? What cannot be e^x- 
 
 c 2 
 
40 ELEiMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 knowledge of, and holds intercourse with it. How 
 spiritual and material substances are connected, and 
 how they act upon each other, cannot be explained. 
 The fact that they are connected, and mutually influ- 
 ence each other, is all that can be made the subject of 
 knowledge. To endeavor to go beyond this, is to 
 launch out into profitless speculations. True philos- 
 ophical enquiry, therefore, points simply to an investi- 
 gation of facts, in relation to mental phenomena, and 
 the operations of mind in its intercourse with the ma- 
 terial world. There are various operations of the 
 mind, in the performance of which it is not dependent 
 on any bodily organs. We are made aware of these 
 operations or states, simply by attending to them. 
 They are the subjects of our consciousness. This 
 thing, so mysteriously connected and co-operating with 
 matter, this living, thinking, active principle within its 
 material structure, we call mind; and mind we have 
 defined above, to be a spiritual suhstance. 
 
 12. It is not a substance, in the ordinary definition 
 of that word. In regard to all sensible objects around 
 us, we connect with substance the idea of materiality. 
 But spirituality, excludes the idea of materiality-— and 
 a spiritual substance can as really exist as a material 
 substance. It will appear strange to those w^ho have 
 not reflected upon the subject, to hear it alleged that 
 we know no more of matter, which we daily see and 
 handle, than we do of mental or spiritual life, which 
 our material senses will neither admit of our approach- 
 plained ? What only is the subject of knowledge ? What is said 
 of it ? How are we made aware of the operations of mind ? What 
 is said of the mind ? 
 
 12. Is the mind a substance ? What idea do we connect with 
 substance ? What does spirituality exclude 1 Can a spiritual 
 substance exist? Do we know more of matter than we do of 
 spiritual life ^ What is said of this fact ? 
 
MENTAL rniLOSOPHY. 41 
 
 iiig nor examining. And yet, this is a fact which is 
 now universally received. 
 
 13. We have already dwelt, with sufficient particu- 
 larity, upon the fact, that we know nothing of matter, 
 but by its properties, and nothing of spiritual existences 
 but by their properties — and that hence our knowledge 
 of both is derived in the same manner, namely, from 
 tlieir properties. Of course, our knowledge of both is 
 the same in kind ; though possibly our knowledge of the 
 properties of matter may be more extensive, than our 
 knowledge of the properties of mind. But beyond cer- 
 tain limitations, namely, those properties themselves, 
 we cannot carry our knowledge in either case. 
 
 14. Certain properties attach to matter — namely, 
 csolor, solidity, extension, figure, &c. These properties 
 perceived by the mind, through the intervention of the 
 }x>dily organs, give us the idea of matter, or substance. 
 
 15. Observing within ourselves certain mental phe- 
 nomena, namely, thinking, remembering, willing, 
 doubting, assenting, we at once are unavoidably led 
 to the conclusion, that there is something to which 
 these principles attach, or of which they are properties, 
 and we call this something, this intangible substance, 
 mind, spirit, or immaterial existence. 
 
 16. If any, notwithstanding these considerations, 
 still believe that they have a better understanding of 
 matter than of mind, let them explain to us what that 
 principle is, in matter, which is termed gravity. That 
 all bodies tend with unerring certainty to a common 
 
 33. Wliat has been sufficiently dwelt upon ? How far can we 
 carry this knowledge ? 
 
 14. Mention some of the properties of matter. Wliat is said 
 of them ? 
 
 15. Mention some mental phenomena. What is said of thera ? 
 
 16. What should those explain who think they have a better 
 understanding of matter than mind ? What do we know of grav- 
 
42 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 centre, that centre being the earth, and with a force 
 ])roportioned to the qnantit)' of matter, is a fact knov/n, 
 and we know nothing more about it. So in regard to 
 the phenomenon of motion. How a moving bod}', by 
 coming in contact with one at rest, communicates 
 motion to the latter, we cannot tell. We call it im- 
 pulsive motion ; but how the impulse passes from one 
 body to the other, is beyond our power of comprehen- 
 sion or explanation. Hence it will be observed, that 
 in regard to both matter and mind, are many things, 
 not only equally difficult of solution, but impossible to 
 be made the subject of knowledge. But certain proper- 
 ties which attach to the substances of each, exhibit facts 
 coming within the scope of our faculties to investigate. 
 
 17. III. Self-activity. The mind is self-active. 
 By this is meant that it has powder to originate action 
 without any external, propelling influence. Some 
 have supposed that there is no efficiency in the mind, 
 but that it acts when acted upon. This cannot be true, 
 as we shall attempt to show. 
 
 18. It is true that the mind acts in a particular man- 
 ner according as it is acted upon by this or that influ- 
 ence, but the efficient cause of action is the mind itself. 
 The objects presented to it, are the occasion of its ac- 
 tion. It acts in this or that manner according as dif- 
 ferent objects present themselves, but it has a motive 
 power of its own. The mind is not a thing which is 
 capable of thought, and feeling, and choice, produced 
 in it by something else ; but itself thinks, and feels, 
 and chooses. 
 
 ity and motion ? What may be observed respecting matter and 
 mind? 
 
 17. Define self-activity ? What have some supposed 1 h- it 
 correct ? 
 
 18. What is true ? W^hat is the occasion of the mind's action ? 
 Explain its action ? What is said of the mind ? 
 
AlENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 43 
 
 19. This we know by consciousness. Our minds, 
 in giving us the knowledge of tlieir own acts, exhibit 
 them to us as operations of our own minds, and not 
 as operations upon our minds by something external. 
 We are conscious of action, not of being acted upon. 
 When we choose between two kinds of fruit, we are 
 not conscious of a state of choice produced in us by 
 the fruit as an efficient cause, but we are conscious of 
 making the choice. Wq know that, in view of the two 
 objects, we have put ourselves in a state of preference. 
 
 20. We infer also that man is self-active from his 
 resemblance to the Deity, God has said, " Let us 
 make man in our own image — after our ov/n like- 
 ness." W^hatever else this may mean, there is a re- 
 semblance between the Divine and human mind, as 
 minds. If we suppose that God is self-active, we can- 
 not believe that man is made so unlike him as to be 
 incapable of originating action. No two things could 
 be more unlike, than a mind capable of acting, and a 
 mind capable only of being acted upon. 
 
 21. This thought may be followed out, by observing 
 the several things in regard to which the mind is active. 
 In regard to all its acts, and all its states it is self-ac- 
 tive. It is so in regard to thought. Thoughts are not 
 self-active things which come and make their impres- 
 sions upon the mind. Nor are they stamped upon us 
 by some other being. Our minds produce them. 
 Whether thought arises in the form of perception, or 
 conception, or imagination, or memory, or judgment, 
 
 19. How do we know this ? In giviig us knowledge, what do 
 our minds exhibit ? Of what are we conscious ? How is it illus- 
 trated by two kinds of fruit ? 
 
 20. What inference is adduced to prove self-activity ? What 
 has God said ■? What does this declaration mean 1 What can we 
 not believe ? What two things are dissimilar 1 
 
 21. When is the mind self-active ? What is said of the thout'^-*" ? 
 
44 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 it is, if the expression may be allowed, a domestic 
 manufacture. 
 
 22. If the mind is self-active in reg-ard to thought,, 
 it is no less so in regard to feeling. It is true that 
 there are some feelings which necessarily follow cer- 
 tain thoughts. If our judgment pronounce our conduct 
 morally wrong, a feeling of disapprobation necessarily 
 follows. Nevertheless, the mind is the originator of 
 its own feelings. There is no other cause sufficient 
 to produce them. Though certain preceding thoughts- 
 are the occasional cause of them, the mind itself is the 
 efficient cause. 
 
 23. The mind is also active in regard to choice. It 
 is not a balance, in the opposite scales of which mo- 
 tives are thrown, which necessitate one scale or the 
 other to preponderate; but a self-active substance, 
 which, in view of the motives on this side and on that, 
 has power to take either. 
 
 24. We are, therefore, warranted in the conclusion, 
 that the mind is a self-active, spiritual substance — en- 
 dowed with thought, feeling, and choice. 
 
 25. These last-named particulars. Thought, Feeling, 
 and Choice, v/ill be considered, under a general clas- 
 sification of the mind, in the following chapter. 
 
 22. In regard lo wliat besides thought is the mind self-active ? 
 What is true ? What is said of the judgment ? Of what is the- 
 mind the originator ? What is the occasional, and what is the ef- 
 ficient cause of our thoughts ? 
 
 p. How else is the mind self-active ? How Is it illustrated by 
 a balance ? 
 
 24. In what conclusion are we warranted ? 
 
 25. • What will be considered in the next chapter l 
 
ME.NTAL PHILOSOPHY. 46 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 CLASSIFICATION OF MENTAL POWERS. 
 
 1. Different classincations of mental phenomena 
 have been adopted by diiTerent writers, eminent in 
 their day. Several of these classifications are now 
 deemed defective. For example, one classification is 
 into the Understanding and the Will. This, though 
 very ancient, and sanctioned by the authority of emi- 
 nent names, is not now generally followed. 
 
 2. Dr. Brown pronounces it illogical — since the will 
 in this division is nominally opposed, to the intellect. 
 This is not the fact. Even those Vv^ho assert its diver- 
 sity, allot to it a pov/er, in the intellectual department, 
 almost equal to that exercised in the department as- 
 signed to itself. There are many emotions, also, which 
 cannot be, with any propriety, classed under either of 
 these divisions. For example, under which division 
 should we classify grief, joy, admiration, astonishment, 
 (fee. This division seems to be as defective as would 
 be the classification of animals into those which have 
 wings, and those which have legs, since some animals 
 have both legs and \vings, and whole tribes exist, hav- 
 ing neither the one nor the other. 
 
 3. Another classification, similar to the former, and 
 
 Chap. III. — 1. What is said of dilTerentclassiacations of mental 
 phenomena ? Are they all approved ? Give an example ? What 
 is said of it? 
 
 2. What is Dr. Brown's opinion of it? Why ? Is the will op- 
 posed to the intellect? What do those who assert its diversity 
 allot to it ? Can all the emotions be classed under either these di- 
 visions ? Name some that could not be thus classed ? To what 
 de/ective classfiication is it likened ? 
 c 3 
 
46 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 of equal antiquity, since it corresponds with the very 
 ancient division of philosophy into the contemplative 
 and the active, is into the Intellectual and Active Powers. 
 This is believed to be equally as defective as the former. 
 Indeed, it represents substantially the same thing, under 
 a change of names. Of course it claims no farther 
 notice at our hands. 
 
 4. It is proper to contemplate the mind in its differ- 
 ent states, and to examine the conceptions which are 
 formed in those states. These conceptions are mani- 
 festly different, as the states themselves are different. 
 Thus, as mental states, thought differs ^vom feeling, and 
 feeling from choice, and each state differs from the 
 other, as is quite obvious. 
 
 5. This leads us to the general classification which 
 we prefer to adopt, viz: 
 
 I. The Intellect. 
 II. The Susceptibility. 
 III. The Will. 
 
 6. We thus view the mind in its relations. (1) In 
 its relations to Thought, which we call Intellect, (2) 
 In its relation to Feeling, which we call Susceptihility. 
 (3) In its relation to Choice, which we call Will. 
 
 7. The conception of the relations of mind to each 
 of these, gives all the idea we can have of Intellect, 
 Susceptibility and Will. For example. Intellect is the 
 
 3. What is another classification? Is this defective? Does it 
 differ frera the former ? 
 
 4. What is proper to do ? What is said of these conceptions of 
 the mind? What is quite obvious? 
 
 5. What classification is preferred ? 
 
 6. What view does this qualification give us ? 
 
 7. What does the conception of the relations of mind to each of 
 these give us ? Give the example ? 
 
MExNTAL PlllLOf::OPHV. 47 
 
 object of tihat conception which we have of the mind 
 as related to ThoKg/it. Susceptibility of that, as rela- 
 ted to Feeling, and the Will of that, as related to Choice. 
 
 8. We also conceive of the mind in a great variety 
 of specific states, which are modifications of these gen- 
 eral states. 
 
 9. For example, under the Intellect we embrace, 
 Perception, Conception, Imagination, Memory, Reason, 
 Judgment, Consciousness, Under Susceptibility, we 
 may form various conceptions of its relation to Pleasure 
 and Pain, Plappiness and Misery, Desire, Inclination, 
 Passion, Emotion. The Will is here used to signify 
 the general relation of Mind to Choice, or to those acts 
 which involve preference. 
 
 10. I. The Intellect. By w^hatever means commu- 
 nicated, be it by perception or otherwise, it is the Intel- 
 lect -svhich takes cognizance of ideas and comprehends 
 them. By its exercise, therefore, we derive our knowl- 
 edge. The states of mind involved in this department 
 of our mental classification should be carefully noted 
 as characterized by intellective, as distinguished from 
 affective, and volative activity. 
 
 11. II. The Susceptibility. This has relation to 
 the capacity of feeling or perceiving the impressions 
 of external objects, the relation which the susceptibility 
 bears to sensation being through the bodily organs — 
 the five senses — seeing, hearing, feeling, touching, 
 tasting. The product of its action is found in certain 
 
 3. What do we also conceive of the mind .' 
 
 9. Give the example ? 
 
 10. What is the office of the intellect? How do we derive our 
 knov^ ledge ? How should the states of mind in this department of 
 mental classification be noted ? From what distinguished ? 
 
 11. To what does the susceptibility have a relation? In what 
 manner ? What are these states of mind denominated ? What are 
 
IS ELEMENTARY OUTLIiNE OF* 
 
 States of mind which are denominated emotions and 
 desires, and in the combination of those elementary- 
 feelings, which constitute what are generally denomi- 
 nated the Benevolent and Malevolent Affections, but 
 v/hich Dr. Abercrombie prefers to designate as the Uni- 
 ting and Defensive Affections, 
 
 12. We are susceptible to pleasure and pain in va- 
 rious ways, namely, from the body — from the mind — - 
 from kii'>wledge — from elevation of character — ^power 
 —beauty — fitness to good ends— happiness of others 
 — unea,siness. 
 
 13. Susceptibility bears a relation to Desire or In- 
 clination in this, namely, to the desire of happiness (as 
 including the removal of evil)—- to the desire of Self- 
 Love, vrliich is the desire so often spoken of as a part 
 of our sentient nature, and v/lien so spoken of, always 
 means a constitutional property of the mind. Some- 
 times, however, the term self-love is applied to the de- 
 sire of happiness, as a mental state arising out of the 
 constitutional susceptibility. 
 
 14. This general relation of Susceptibility to desire 
 may be regarded more particularly, as susceptibility to 
 the desire of food, drink, &c., and more specifically to 
 the desire of this or that food or drink, almost ad infi- 
 niimn^ 
 
 15. Th?:'.e various susceptibilities of the mind are 
 objects of the highest interest. All may be classified, 
 but we must alv/ays, and most carefully distinguish 
 
 they generally called ? What does Di\ Abercrombie prefer to call 
 them ? 
 
 12. Ho'.v are we susceptible to pleasure and pain ? 
 
 13. In what way does the susceptibility bear a relation to desire 
 or inclination ? 
 
 1-1. How may this genarai susceptibility to desire be regarded? 
 15. What is said of these various susceptibilities of the mmd ? 
 What should we carefully distinguish ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 49 
 
 l)et\veen desires, as involuntary constitutional suscepti- 
 bilities, and desires as voluntary mental states. This 
 distinction will be enlarged upon, in a subsequent 
 chapter, when we come to speak more specifically of 
 the Desires. 
 
 IG. III. The Will. This is that faculty of the 
 mind which is brought into activity, when we desire 
 either to do, or forbear a certain action, or when we 
 exercise choice in relation to two or more objects, 
 givmg a preference to one over the rest. 
 
 17. The will holds the highest position, in this three- 
 fold departmental structure of the mind. Its functions 
 are of a directory, decisive character. 
 
 18. These several mental departments, to an extent, 
 at least, rest upon, and are involved in each other. 
 Nevertheless, that the mind is susceptible of these 
 leading, generic distinctions, marking the inception, 
 progress and completion of its operations, a suitable 
 attention to the subject must convince us. 
 
 19. This inception, progress and completion, we 
 designate gencrically by the classification of Intellect, 
 Susceptibility and Will, above adopted. The action 
 ccmimences with the Intellect, giving the knowledge 
 of the object ; }»roceeds to the awakening of the Sus- 
 ceptibilities, as the product of that knowledge, and 
 terminates in the executive department, the mandatory 
 office of the Will being brought into requisition, to 
 bring the mind in reference to the whole, into a state 
 of decision. 
 
 IG. What is the will? 
 
 17. Vv'liicli of the three above named faculties holds the highest 
 position? 
 
 18. What is eaid of these several mental departments ? Of 
 what will a suitr.ble attention to the subject convince us ? 
 
 19. State how' the action of the mind commences and how It is 
 brought to a decision. 
 
50 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 20. That this is a natural, and regular order of 
 sequence, in mental states, a little reflection must serve 
 to convince us. 
 
 21. For example — there must be, in the action of 
 the Susceptibility some object of desire ; and that ob- 
 ject of desire must, from the necessity of the case, 
 have been made, in priority of time, the subject of 
 knowledge, by the action of the Intellect, in the exer- 
 cise of its perceptivity, or cognitive functions. For 
 where no subject of knowledge exists, no object of 
 desire can be brought to the cognition of the mind, no 
 emotive action can be produced, and the susceptibili- 
 ties, of course, remain quiescent, and the action of the 
 Will is not aroused, as no object of preference or aver- 
 sion, to choose or refuse, is brought within its cogni- 
 zance. 
 
 20. Of what shall we be convinced if we reflect upon this sub- 
 iect ? 
 
 21. Give the example? Define perceptivity? Ans. The power 
 of perception. Define cognitive? Ans. Apprehending by the un- 
 der.etandins:. 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 51 
 
 PART II. 
 
 OF THE INTELLECT. 
 
 The mind, as we have already seen, is department- 
 al, and susceptible of certain generic distinctions. 
 VVe have referred to it, therefore, generically, under 
 the three leading heads of Intellect, SusceptiUlity and 
 Will. Under each of these general divisions more 
 specific distinctions will demand our attennon. Under 
 the first department allotted to the mind in this general 
 classification, that of the Intellect, we shall refer speci- 
 fically, to each of the following sub-divisions, devoting 
 a chapter to each, namely, Sensation and Perception, 
 Memory, Conception, Abstraction, Judgment, (includ- 
 ing Intuition and Reasoning,) and Imagination. 
 
 CHAPTER [. 
 Sensation and Perception. 
 
 1. Sensation and Perception though susceptible of 
 being philosophically distinguished, yet are so much 
 involved in each other, as to be, to a great extent, 
 practically at least, the same. 
 
 2. Sensation exists in the mind. It is a mental 
 
 Part IL — What have we already seen of mind, and of what is 
 it susceptible? To what three heads has it been referred? Do 
 any other distinctions demand our attention ? What subdivisions 
 belong to the intellect? 
 
 Chapter L — 1. Arc sensation and perception susceptible of 
 being distinguished ? Axe they the same ? 
 
52 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 state, which follows impressions made upon the mind 
 through the medium of some of the corporeal senses, 
 seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting or touching. For 
 example — temperature produces sensation in the mind. 
 We are accustomed to speak of the sensations of heat 
 and cold. But we do not use the same term, when we 
 speak of some mental emotion, as love, joy, sorrow 
 and the like; for, though these involve acts or states 
 of mind, their source is different. 
 
 3. It is by many erroneously supposed, that sensa- 
 tion is in the corporeal structure itself, and resides in the 
 particular sense affected. For example, that touch is 
 in the hand, sight in the eye, smell in the olfactory 
 nerve, taste in the tongue, hearing in the ear. But 
 all these organs are only modifications of one and the 
 same thing, namely, matter. Matter is not suscepti- 
 ble of feeling. AH that we shall be warranted in 
 saying, then, is, that the instrumentality of the senses 
 is requisite to produce sensation, but that sensation or 
 feeling produced, is entirely in the mind. 
 
 4. We may employ an illustration of Dr. Reid on 
 this subject. He says for example, a man cannot see 
 the satellites of Jupiter but by a telescope. Does he 
 conclude from this, that it is the telescope that se^ 
 those stars ? Such a conclusion would be absurd. It 
 is no less absurd to conclude that it is the eye that sees, 
 or the ear that hears. The telescope is an artificial 
 
 2. How is sensation produced ? Give the example? How are 
 we accustomed to speak? When do we not use the same term ? 
 Why ? 
 
 3. What is by many erroneously supposed ? Give the example? 
 What is said of these organs ? What are we then warranted in 
 saying ? 
 
 4. Give the illustration of Dr. Reid ? What is said of the tele- 
 scope and the eye ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 58 
 
 organ of sight, but it sees not. The eye is a natural 
 organ of sight, by which we see, but the natural organ 
 sees as little as the artificial. 
 
 5. That there is an intimate connection between 
 the sensorial organs and the mind must be readily per- 
 ceived and unhesitatingly admitted. The nature of 
 tliat connection cannot be explained. How the exci- 
 tation of one of the corporeal senses affects the mind, 
 producing a new mental state, involves in its enquiry, 
 a product of intellectual action, which sets analysis at 
 defiance. The fact we know, and all we can say 
 about it is, that so the great and wise Being, who 
 formed us, constituted us. 
 
 6. Perception, as we have already remarked, is 
 nearly allied to sensation, yet it embraces more, and 
 may be distinguished from it, as a whole is from a 
 part. It should be borne in mind that we now speak 
 of external and not internal perception. 
 
 7. The mental state designated b}^ the term per- 
 ception, is complex. A sensorial organ is afiected, 
 following which is a particular state of mind, which 
 we at once, insensibly, and without any process of 
 reasoning, refer to some external object as the cause. 
 Sensation, on the other hand, is a simple feeling, and 
 is wholly w^ithin. That is, the feeling and the thing 
 felt are one and the same thing. For example, when 
 I am pained, I cannot say the pain I feel is one thing, 
 and that my feeling is another thing. The two can- 
 not be dissevered, even in imagination. Pain, when 
 
 5. AVliat is admitted ] What cannot be explained? What do 
 \\ c know and what can we say about it 1 
 
 6. What is said of Perception ? What should be borne in mind ? 
 
 7. How IS perception and sensation distinguished ? What are 
 the same ? Give the example ? What would be our condition if 
 we were possessed only of sensation 1 
 
54 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 it is not felt, has no existence. What we have said €)f' 
 pain, will be equally applicable to every other sensa- 
 tion. If we possessed only sensation, there would 
 still be figure, odor, sound, &:c. — but they would seem 
 to exist within, without reference to external causes. 
 
 8. But Perception seems to carry us out of our- 
 selves, and connects us with the exterior world, refer- 
 ring the sensations produced by the sensorial functions 
 to external causes. Thus the substantial realities of 
 the outward, material world are fully developed unto 
 us. Sensation tends to Perception, and the latter re- 
 sults, as a product, from the former. 
 
 9. The corporeal senses, then, are subservient to the 
 faculty of perception, as well as of sensation. But, 
 perhaps, it is not entirely fanciful to suppose, that these 
 bodily organs are not essential to the operation of this 
 intellectual faculty, but rather cramp and repress it. 
 Nor is it unreasonable to indulge the belief, that beings 
 of a superior order, untrammeled by bodily organiza- 
 tions, such as ours, enjoy, in a much more perfect 
 manner than we do, the exercises of this faculty of 
 perception. A person confined to a room with a single 
 window all his life, might, indeed, suppose that window 
 absolutely essential to his sight, rather than as the 
 cause of his very limited view. 
 
 10. The perceptions of sense being the first elements 
 of our knowledge, we cannot too sedulously cultivate 
 the habit of attending carefully to the things which we 
 see, feel, and the like. For by attention only, can the 
 
 8. How does perception affect us ? To what does sensation 
 tend ? What results from it ? 
 
 9. Of what use are the senses ? What is it not fanciful to sup- 
 pose ? What belief is it proper to indulge 1 How is it illustrated .' 
 
 10. What are the first elements of our knowledge ? What then 
 ghould be cultivated t Why ? Whal is said of attention ? How 
 
MENTAL PKILOtOPHY. ©5 
 
 notions which we thus form be made clear and distinct, 
 and so of value and service to us. Attention is to the 
 perceptive faculty what the microscope is to the eye. 
 .\n object seen indistinctly with the naked eye, on ac- 
 count of its minuteness, may be seen distinctly with a 
 microscope. It is from habitual inattention to our 
 sensations, rather than to any natural dullness in our 
 organs of sense, that so i^ew of the objects which strike 
 our senses leave any, unless very indistinct impressions 
 upon the mind. 
 
 11. It is a remark of Mr. Stewart, that the sensations 
 which are excited in the mind by external objects, and 
 the perceptions of material qualities, which follow these 
 sensations, are to be distinguished from each other only 
 by long habits of patient reflection. 
 
 12. From what has been said, it appears that certain 
 iiijpressions made on our sensorial organs, by external 
 objects, are followed by corresponding sensations, and 
 that these sensations, by the constitution of our nature, 
 are rendered the constant antecedents of our percep- 
 tions of the existence and qualities of the material 
 bodies by which the impressions are made, and that 
 the whole process is to us an impenetrable and inscru- 
 tablre mystery. 
 
 13. The facts, however, are sufficiently ascertained, 
 and are to be received and referred to that class for 
 which we cannot satisfactorily account. Hence, the 
 evidence which we derive from our senses, of the ex- 
 istence and properties of things pertaining to the ma- 
 
 is it illustrated? Why are indistinct impressions made upon the 
 ;niud ? 
 
 11. What does Mr. Stewart remark ? 
 
 12. What appears from the foregoing remarks 1 
 
 13. What is ascertained? With what is the evidence which 
 we derive from our senses classed ? 
 
56 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 terial world, is to be classed with those fundamemtal, 
 intuitive principles of belief, which are susceptible of 
 no other proof than the universal conviction of rarai- 
 kind. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BIEMORY. 
 
 1. This is the faculty by which we have a know- 
 ledge of what we have felt, thought, or perceived, in 
 past time. From it we acquire our know^ledge and 
 experience. Without it we should forever remain in 
 ignorance. At the close of a long life we should not 
 be in advance of our immediate childhood. When 
 memory presents us with past thoughts, feelings, or 
 perceptions, it is accompanied with the firm persuasion 
 that they were formerly real and present. What we 
 distinctly remember we as firmly believe as anything 
 which is now present to us. 
 
 2. The belief which is founded on distinct Memor)-, 
 is accounted actual knowledge, and is no less certainly 
 relied upon, than if it rested on demonstration. A mon 
 in a sound state of mind will not call it in question. 
 
 3. To the exercise of memory we are indebted for 
 our knowledge of time or duration. When a fact i« 
 
 Chap. II. — 1. What is memory 1 What do we acquire from 
 it? What would be our condition without it? With what is it 
 accompanied when it presents us with past feelings or perceptions? 
 Do we believe what we remember ? 
 
 2. What is considered actual knowledge ? Is it relied upon ? 
 Who does not call it in question ? 
 
 3. For what knowledge are we indebted to memory ? What 
 must we necessai'ily believe ? 
 
MEXTAL PHILOSOPHY. 51^ 
 
 remembered, we must necessarily believe that an in- 
 terval of time has elapsed between the period in which 
 it happened and the present moment. 
 
 4. It is hardly necessary to say that things remem- 
 bered must be things which were formerly perceived 
 or known. For example, I remember the comet of 
 1843. I must, therefore, have perceived it at the time 
 it appeared, or I could not have remembered it. 
 
 5. Two things are implied in memory. One is a 
 power of retaining, the other is the power of recalling 
 knowledge to our minds when we have need of its use. 
 The former is called a retentive, the latter a ready 
 memory. When we remember with little or no effort, 
 it is called rememhrance simply. But when we recall 
 past events by a direct effort of will, it is called recol- 
 lection. The former is sometimes distinguished as 
 passive, the latter as active memory. 
 
 6. There are great varieties, and different degrees 
 of strength of memory in different individuals. The 
 }X)wer of memory is not only different in different in- 
 dividuals, but is also different in the same persons at 
 different times. There are many instances of extra- 
 ordinary memory on record. Themistocles made him- 
 self master of the Persian language in one year, and 
 could call by their names all the citizens of Athens, 
 amounting to twenty thousand. Cyrus knew the name 
 of every soldier in his army. Julius Ctpsar could dic- 
 tateto three secretaries at once, on as many different 
 subjects; and I have somewhere seen it recorded of 
 
 ■i. What seems not necessary to say ? Give the example ^ 
 
 o. What two things are implied in memory / What are they 
 
 called ? What is called remembrance simply ? What is called 
 
 recollection ? How are they distinguished] 
 
 &. Do all possess this faculty alike ? What is said oi" Themis- 
 
58 
 
 ELEMENTAEY OUTLINE OF 
 
 Napoleon Bonaparte, that he could dictate to five, in 
 the same manner. Seneca relates of a person, who, 
 upon hearing a poet read a new poem, could accurately- 
 repeat the whole of it. A similar anecdote is related 
 of an Englishman, who visited the king of Prussia. 
 When Voltaire read a new poem which he had writ- 
 ten, to the king, the latter, for amusement, accused the 
 former of plagiarism, and, as proof, produced the Eng- 
 lishman, who had been concealed behind a screen dur- 
 ing the reading. The Englishman repeated the poem 
 verbatim, to the amazement of Voltaire, who, in a fit 
 of passion, tore his poem into fragiTiCnts. Upon ex- 
 planation being made, Voltaire was glad to recover his 
 poem by writing it down from the lips of the w^onder- 
 ful but obliging Englishman, who repeated it to him 
 for that purpose. 
 
 7. There are on record, also, many singular in- 
 stances of defective memory — defective in some par- 
 ticulars, and yet wonderfully retentive in others. Dr. 
 Watson, Bishop of Landaff, relates concerning his fa- 
 ther, who had been afflicted with palsy several years 
 before his death, that he would ask twenty times in a 
 day " the name of the lad at college," meaning his 
 youngest son, and at the same time was able to repeat 
 hundreds of lines, without a blunder, out of classic au- 
 thors. Montaigne, a French writer of genius, afforcfe 
 a striking instance of defective memory, in all that re- 
 lated to the common affairs of life. He says of liim- 
 self, "I can do nothing without my memorandum book ; 
 and so great is my difficulty in remembering proper 
 
 tocles ? Of Julius Ceesar ? Of Napoleon ? What docs Bcn^&a 
 relate? What similar one is stated? , 
 
 7. What instance of defective memory is given by Dr. Wat- 
 son ? What does a French writer relate of hirrsself ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY 59 
 
 names, that I am forced to call my dcmestlc seivcnt 
 by their offices. I am ignorant of the greater part of 
 our coins in use ; of the difference of one grain from 
 another, both in the earth and in the granary ; what 
 use leaven is in making bread, and why wine must stand 
 some time in the vat before it ferments. When I have 
 an oration to speak of any considerable length, I am 
 reduced to the miserable necessity of getting it word 
 for word by heart." 
 
 8. Mr. Stewart remarks, that this ignorance of Mon- 
 taigne did not proceed from any original defect of 
 memory, but from the singular and whimsical direction 
 which his curiosity had taken at an early period of 
 life. 
 
 9. It has been thought that a great memory is in- 
 compatible with quick parts, or bright genius. But 
 this prejudice seems to be without foundation. In re- 
 futation of this notion, we need only repeat the names 
 of the individuals just referred to, namely, Themisto- 
 cies, Cyrus, Csesar, and Bonaparte, as men of t}*e 
 greatest abilities, as well as of great memory. 
 
 10. Memory certainly seems to be bestowed in very 
 unequal degrees upon different individuals, and yet the 
 difference is not so great as, at first view, we might 
 perhaps be led to suppose. A very considerable de- 
 gree of the difference which does exist, may properly 
 be ascribed to the different degrees of Attention be- 
 stowed by individuals upon objects which pass in review 
 before them. 
 
 11. Memory may be said to depend mainly upon 
 
 8. What does Mr. Stewart remark respecting him ? 
 
 0. What has been thought of a great memory? Is this preju- 
 dice correct ? How is it refuted ? 
 
 10, To what, mostly may be ascnbed the differenrp of memory 
 ill diftercnt individuals ? 
 
60 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE O^' 
 
 two particulars, namely, Association and Attention, 
 In order to improve the memory, therefore, the intel- 
 lectual energy should be carefully directed to the for- 
 m.ation of correct habits of association and attention.' 
 
 12. The principle of Association is founded upon 
 the tendency which exists in thoughts formerly consid- 
 ered to recall each other in the same order of succes-- 
 sion in which they were at first contemplated. This 
 requires no mental effort, and is therefore properly 
 referred to what is called passive memory, or simple 
 Remembrance. A single thought or circumstance will 
 frequently introduce a whole train of thoughts. A view 
 of our early home, after a long absence, will frequently, 
 recall man}^ of the incidents of childhood, and one, in- 
 troducing another, may quickly run over a series of 
 years. This is called association of ideas. And were 
 it not for this tendency of one idea to introduce another, 
 we could never recall a thought which has once passed 
 from the mind. Association, therefore, is involved in 
 every act of Remembrance or effort of Recollection. 
 
 13. Attention is absolutely essential to memory, for 
 without some degree of attention, no thought once 
 passed, could ever be recalled. The distinctness of 
 our recollection, will be in proportion to the energy 
 infused into the attention bestowed upon the object, and 
 the clearness of our perception of it. When the at- 
 tention is not given to a particular circumstance, tlie 
 
 11. Upon what mainly does memory depend ? How can mem- 
 ory be improved ? 
 
 12. Upon what is the principle of association founded ? To 
 what is it referred ? What is said of a single thought or circum- 
 stance? What is this called ? What is said of this tendency? 
 In what is association involved ? 
 
 13. WJiat is said of attention ? In proportion to what will be 
 distinctness of recollection ? When is recollection w-anting T 
 Give the example ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 61 
 
 perception will be indistinct, and recollection feeble or 
 wanting. For example, we may be intently engaged 
 in conversation or other employment in a room when 
 the clock strikes, and the moment after be unable to re- 
 call the fact. We are apt to conclude, therefore, that 
 we did not perceive it. This idea is not well founded. 
 The fact was perceived, though the perception v/as not 
 clear and distinct, owing to a lack of attention, and 
 hence we are not able to recollect it. 
 
 14. Perhaps this can be better illustrated by instan- 
 cing a person asleep in church. Let such an individual 
 be suddenly awakened, and he cannot perhaps recall 
 the last words of the speaker, or even tell whether he 
 was speaking at all. And yet, that sleep does not en- 
 tirely suspend perception is proved from the fact, that 
 if the speaker suddenly pause in his discourse, every 
 person asleep in the house will instantly awake. We 
 may, then, be conscious of a perception, though, from 
 its indistinctness, owing to the absence of a suitable 
 degree of attention, we cannot afterwards recollect it. 
 
 15. When a person complains of a defective mem- 
 ory, he mistakes, often, a deficiency of attention for a 
 defect of memory. 
 
 16. It is of the utmost importance, in order to secure 
 what is ordinarily called a good memory, to cultivate 
 the habit of giving fixed, exclusive, and intense atten- 
 tion to whatever object is before the mind, whether it 
 be matter of observation or of reading and study. 
 
 17. Writing is a great aid to fixedness of attention, 
 clearness of perception, and, consequently, to distinct- 
 ness of subsequent recollection. Transcribing volu- 
 
 14. How is it further illustrated? What is said of our being 
 conscious of a perception ? 
 
 15. What mistake is often made ? 
 
 16. What is of the utmost importance to secure a good memory? 
 
 D 
 
62 
 
 ELEMENTAS.Y OUTLINE OP 
 
 minoiisly, perliaps, would not subserve the purpose in 
 view. But to write systematically, slov/ly, and care- 
 fully, transcribing short passages, making abstracts of 
 chapters or books read, or writing down in our ovv^n 
 language the leading thoughts of the authoi's whose 
 works we read, would form such habits of attention, as 
 must be of the highest value and most serviceable char- 
 acter, 
 
 18. Professor Porson, once highly distinguished as a 
 scholar among the learned men of England, was noted 
 for his singularly excellent and remarkable memory. 
 lie could at pleasure recite any passage from the Greek 
 poets. He says he never remembered any thing which 
 he did not transcribe three times, or read over six times 
 at least. A like persevering and laborious course 
 v/ould serve to cultivate the faculties of Association and 
 Attention, and secure to every one, with hardly an ex- 
 ception, a good memory. 
 
 19. What better, more advantageous, and grateful 
 return for labor bestowed, could be enjoyed, than this 
 high cultivation and vigorous and healthful exercise of 
 memory — one of the noblest of our faculties, \\ithout 
 which we could derive no benefit from experience ; 
 hopeless ignorance would be our portion, and the past 
 would be to us as obscure as the future is inscrutable. 
 
 17. What is said of writing ? How should it be done ? What 
 habits will it form ? 
 
 18. What is related of Professor Porson ? What is said ef his 
 perseverance ? 
 
 19. Should we be repaid by making such efforts ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 63 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 COxNCEPTION. 
 
 1. Conception has been defined to mean that power 
 or faculty of the mind which enables us to form a no- 
 tion of an absent object of perception, or of a sensation 
 which it has formerly felt. 
 
 2. To illustrate this, take the case of a painter who 
 wishes to paint a picture of an absent friend. He is 
 said, in so doing, to paint from memory. This expres- 
 sion is allowable in ordinary conversation. But in an 
 analysis of the mind a distinction should be made. 
 
 3. The painter conceives, for the instant, his friend 
 to be present before him. He makes the features of 
 his friend an object of thought, so as to copy their re- 
 semblance. This the power of conception enables him 
 to do. It is then the office of memory to recognize 
 these features, as a former object of perception. Here, 
 then, is shown the inaccuracy of saying that he paints 
 from memory. The distinction to be made between 
 conception and mem.ory is this : Memory has relation 
 to past time. Conceptiondmplies no idea of time what- 
 ever. Shakespeare calls this power " the mind's eye." 
 
 Hamlet. My father ! methinks I see my father. 
 Horatio. Where, my lord 1 
 Hamlet. In 7ny mbicVs eye, Horatio. 
 
 Hamlet, Act I. Scene 4. 
 
 Chapter HI. — 1. How is conception defined ? 
 
 'i. How is it illustrated ? 
 
 IJ. What does the painter conceive ? What does the power of 
 conception enable him to do ? What is flae office of memory ? — 
 What is shown ? What distinction is made between conception 
 and memory ? What does Shakspeare call conception ? 
 D 2 
 
64 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 4. Conception, as we here usb the word, is designed 
 to be limited in its application to our sensations, and 
 the objects of our perceptions. 
 
 5. The term conception, has been employed by some 
 writers in a sense as extensive as the term simple ap- 
 prehension used by the school philosophers, who used 
 that term as expressive of what we mean by the term 
 conception as here defined, and including in it also, our 
 apprehension of general propositions. In ordinary lan- 
 guage we apply the word conception, to the knowledge 
 which we have by our senses of external objects, and 
 also, to our knowledge of speculative truth. Yet there 
 is, in strictness as much difference between the concep- 
 tion of a truth, and the conception of an absent object 
 of sense, as between the perception of a tree and the 
 perception of a mathematical theorem. Conception 
 then may be regarded as the faculty whose province it 
 is to enable us to form a notion of our past sensations, 
 or of the objects of sense, that we have formerly per- 
 ceived. 
 
 6. We can conceive the objects of some of our 
 senses, much more easily than those of others. We 
 can conceive of an absent visible object, as, for ex- 
 ample, a landscape with which we are familiar, much 
 more easily than we can of a particular sound, taste, 
 or pain formerly felt. 
 
 7. This peculiarity seems referable to the fact, that 
 when we think of a sound, taste, &c., the object of our 
 
 4. How is it limited in its applications 1 
 
 5. How has it been employed? How do we employ the term 
 conception in ordinary language ? What difference is shown ? — 
 How may conception be regarded ? 
 
 6. Are all the objects of our senses cpnceived alike 1 How is it 
 explained? 
 
 7. To what does thip peculiarity seem referable ? What can we 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 65 
 
 conception is a single, isolated sensation ; but, on the 
 other hand, every visible object is complex, and our 
 conception of it is aided by the association of ideas. 
 We do not attend to every part of a visible object at 
 the same instant of time ; nor do we form our concep- 
 tion of it as a whole, at the same instant of time. Our 
 conception of it as a whole, is the result of many con- 
 ceptions. The association of ideas, seems to connect 
 the whole together in the formation of these several 
 conceptions. 
 
 8. A talent for lively description, at least so far as 
 sensible objects are concerned, depends upon the de- 
 gree in which the describer is enabled to exercise the 
 power of conception. One man in describing an ob- 
 ject seems to place it before him, and to describe from 
 actual perception, while another, not at all deficient in 
 a ready flow of words, seems embarrassed in the midst 
 of a number of particulars, indistinctly apprehended, 
 which crowd into his mind without order or connection. 
 
 9. It is probable that the faculty of Conception fol- 
 lows nearly the same law as memory, and depends 
 upon the degree of attention bestowed upon the objects 
 of it, for the different degrees of vigor and clearness in 
 its exercise. 
 
 10. There are also certain situations, which contrib- 
 ute essentially to the more intense activity of the con- 
 ceptive faculty. Seclusion and the absence of all 
 
 not do at the same instant of time ? What is said of our concep- 
 tion of the landscape as a whole ? What is said of association of 
 ideas ? 
 
 8. Upon what does a talent for lively description depend ? How 
 will one man describe an object ? How will another ? 
 
 9. What law does conception follow ? 
 
 11). What is said of some situations being more favorable to its 
 intensity than others ? And «hat to its most healthy exercise ? 
 
■PH 
 
 66 
 
 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 external impressions, are especially favorable to its 
 highest and most healthy exercise. This is beautifoliy 
 illustrated in the case of the celebrated Danish travel- 
 ler, Neibuhr. 
 
 11. In his old age, when entirely prostrated in physi- 
 cal strength, and totally blind, he used both to delight 
 and astonish his friends, by his exact, circumstantial, 
 and most vivid and animated descriptions of scenes wit- 
 nessed by him in former days, during his extensive 
 travels. When they expressed to him their surprise, 
 at this his wonderful power of description, he replied, 
 that as he lay in bed, all visible objects shut out, the 
 pictures of what he had seen in the East continually 
 floated before his mind's eye, so that it was no wonder 
 he could speak of them as if he had seen them yester- 
 day. With like vividness the deep intense sky of Asia, 
 with brilliant and twinkling hosts of stars, v>^hich he 
 had so often gazed at by night, or its lofty vault of blue 
 by day, v\^as reflected in the hours of stillness and dark- 
 ness, on his inmost soul. 
 
 12. Dr. Abercrombie, in his treatise on the intellec- 
 tual powers, relates an anecdote never before on rec- 
 ord, illustrative of the power and application of this 
 conceptive faculty. In the church of St. Peter, at 
 Cologne, the altar piece is a large and valuable pic- 
 ture by Reubens, representing the martyrdom of the 
 Apostle. This picture having been carried away by 
 the French in 1805, to the great regret of the inhab- 
 itants, a painter of that city undertook to make a copy 
 of it from recollection ; and succeeded in doing so in 
 such a manner, that the most delicate tints of the orig- 
 inal are preserved Avith the most minute accuracy. 
 
 11. How is Jt illustrated ? 
 
 12. Relate the anecdote given by Abercrombie ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY". 67 
 
 Tiie original painting has now been restored, but the 
 copy is preserved along with it, and even when they 
 are rigidly compared, it is scarcely possible to distin- 
 guish the one from the other. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ABSTRACTION. 
 
 1. By abstraction, we are not to understand an in- 
 dependent original source of knowledge. But it ena- 
 bles us to take the knowledge which we have, and sep- 
 arate it from other knowledge, and thus view it in a 
 new, or isolated position ; as when we contemplate some 
 particular part or property of a complex object, as sep- 
 arate from the rest. The exercise of this pov/er is 
 equally applicable to external and internal objects. 
 
 2. For example, the Statuary, by external percep- 
 tion, derives his knowledge of the block of marble up- 
 on which he bestows the labor of his curious art, but 
 it is the power of abstraction which enables him to 
 examine it as a complex object, and separate it into its 
 several parts, or properties of length, breadth, thick- 
 ness, &c ; and thus intellectually separated and ab- 
 stracted, of making each a distinct object of contem- 
 plation and examination, apart from the rest. 
 
 3. But this is strictly an intellectual operation. A 
 complex object is perceived by the mind. For exam- 
 ple, a tree. It has height, figure, thickness, color, &c. 
 
 CiiAPTJCR Iv^. — 1. Is abstraction an independent original source 
 of knowledge ? Wliat does it enubie us to do ? To Wiiat is it 
 applicable ? 
 
 2. Relate the example? 
 
68 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 Physically these properties are incapable of separation. 
 But each property, by the mental process of abstrac- 
 tion, may be taken separately, and held isolated before 
 the mind, for its contemplation. 
 
 4. Abstraction involves two mental processes. By 
 the one, a variety of objects are examined. Proper- 
 ties or qualities in which several of these objects, agree, 
 are ascertained, and thus they are arranged into classes, 
 genera and species. 
 
 5. By the other, we take a comprehensive view of 
 an extensive collection of facts, and select one, com- 
 mon to the whole. This we call generalizing, or de- 
 ducing a general fact, or general principle. 
 
 6. Did we not possess this power of abstraction, our 
 knowledge would have been confined exclusively to an 
 acquaintance with individual beings, and individual 
 facts. The very foundation of science is laid in gen- 
 eralizing and reducing to a few classes and general 
 principles, the multitude of individual things which ev- 
 ery branch of human knowledge embraces. Science, 
 then, without abstraction could not have existed. 
 
 7. Reason has its highest exercise, in the discovery 
 of general principles. To its exertions abstraction is 
 subservient. Especially is it so, in those exertions of 
 reason, by which man has arrived at the distinction of 
 being called a rational being. 
 
 8. If this be true, abstraction may properly be re- 
 
 3. What is abstraction strictly speaking ? Give the example ? 
 
 4. What does this power involve ? What is done by the one ? 
 
 5. What by the other ? What do we call this ? 
 
 6. "^Vliat would have been the condition of our minds if we di<I 
 not possess this power ? In what is laid the foundation of science? 
 What is said of science without, abstraction ? 
 
 7. To what is abstraction subservient 1 In what cases is it sa 
 especially ? 
 
ME5NT-AL PHILOSOPHY. 69 
 
 garded as one of the leading attributes of human na- 
 ture, for man could not be what he is without it. The 
 want of it, therefore, to any great extent, or its disor- 
 dered or imperfect action, is a great misfortune. For 
 a mind deficient in this respect, will be incapable of 
 distinguishing the properties or qualities of things, by 
 which they are distinguished from each other; and 
 hence things appear to him in a crude, shapeless, un- 
 formed mass. Such a mind must be inefficient to the 
 highest degree. 
 
 9. On the other hand the very intensity of the ex- 
 ercise of the abstractive principle, often destroys the 
 proper balance of the mind. Individuals, under this 
 high degree of its influence, are not unfrequently lost 
 to themselves, and to a perception of all external ob- 
 jects. The other pov/ers of the mind seem to have left 
 tkeir. appropriate offices, and yielded up their strength 
 to this one concentrated faculty. The power of the 
 mind, in this particular direction, and imder the influ- 
 ence of this condensed effort, must be immense. The 
 mind seizes upon its object, holds it in its fixed unwav- 
 ering grasp, in a state of complete insulation, abstracts 
 from it a peculiar quality or property, and holds it in 
 intense, continuous contemplation. Such men pass 
 for protbund men, and profound men they unquestion- 
 ably are. But their profundity is oflen acquired at the 
 expense of what the world calls common sense, as far 
 
 8. How may abstraction be regarded ? Why ? What is said of 
 the want of it and a disordered or imperfect action of it? How 
 will things appear to a rnind in this respect deficient ? Why ? 
 
 9. Whr\t is said of the intensity of tliis power? What is the 
 state of individuals of this class ? How are the other powers of 
 the raind alVected ? Describe the active energy of the mind in this 
 condition ? How are such persons considered ? V7hat is said of 
 them ? 
 
 D 3 
 
70 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 as it regards all the ordinary affairs and transactions 
 of life. 
 
 10. An example or tvv^o, of the excessive action of 
 the abstractive principle, will serve to illustrate, in a 
 clear nianner, its power, and the utility which it may 
 be made to subserve, in reducing complexity to distinct 
 and lucid classification, and in deducing general prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 11. The abstractive power was exercised to an ex- 
 traordinary and absorbing degree by Sir Isaac Newton. 
 "We are informed by his biographer, that he would 
 sometimes sit for hours on his bed-side, v/ithout dress- 
 ing, wrapped in his own abstractions, wholly lost to all 
 external objects, his thoughts seeming to retain no con- 
 nection with the ordinary affairs of life. 
 
 12. A still more amusing account, of the singular 
 intensity of this power, is given of Dr. Robert Hamil- 
 ton. He was a celebrated author, and a clear-headed 
 philosopher. His writings v/ere characterized by logi- 
 cal arrangement and beauty of expression. But in him 
 the abstractive power exhibited itself to a degree of 
 intensity, that was painfully amusing, if such an ex- 
 pression may be allowed. It seemed to leave him, in 
 the individuality of his own thoughts, isolated from the 
 world and its objects. From the seclusion of his closet, 
 he could make the power of his profound and cultivated 
 mind felt in the world, but he, himself, was, when in 
 public, a mere shadow. He would pull off his hat to 
 his own v/ife in the streets, and apologize for not hav- 
 ing the pleasure of her acquaintance. He went to his 
 classes in the college on the dark mornings, with one 
 of her white stockings on one foot, and one of his own 
 
 10. Why is an example or two given ?■ 
 
 11. Relate what is stated of Sir Isaac Nswton f 
 1'2. Relate the account given of Dr. Hamilton ? 
 
MENTAL rHILOSOPHY. tl 
 
 black ones on the other, and often spent the whole time 
 of the meeting in moving from the table the ha,ts of the 
 students, which they as constantly returned. Some- 
 times he invited the students to call on him, and then 
 fined them for coming to insult him. He would run 
 against a cow in the road, turn round and beg her par- 
 don, "Madam," and hope she was not hurt. At other 
 times he would run against posts, and chide them for 
 not getting out of his way, and yet his conversation, at 
 the same time, if any one happened to be with him, 
 was perfect logic, and perfect music. 
 
 10. Numerous instances of a like character might 
 be given, but this will suffice. This undue absorption 
 of the other powers, by this excessive mental operation, 
 does not imply imbecility of mind, or disordered intel- 
 lect, approaching to insanity ; but a profoundness and 
 intensity of the abstractive power, which firmly grasps 
 every subject of contemplation which is brought before 
 the mind, and holds it, in vigorous and isolated inspec- 
 tion, separate from ever}^ other object, and often to the 
 entire forget fulness of self, and of the proprieties and 
 conventionalities of life. In the language of Dr. Good, 
 all the external senses remain in a state of torpor, so 
 that the eyes do not see, nor the ears hear, nor the flesh 
 feel ; and the individual, thus under the influence of the 
 abstractive power, may be spoken to, or conversation 
 may take place around him, or he may even be struck 
 upon the shoulders, without any knowledge of what is 
 occurring. 
 
 14. It may be inferred, perhaps, that such an indi- 
 vidual must have his thoughts chiefly employed on sub- 
 jects of the most abstruse and profound character. 
 
 13. What is said of this undue absorption of the mental pov.'- 
 ers 1 What does Dr. Good say of it 1 
 
 14. What may be inf3rred ? Is such an inference just ? What 
 
72 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 This, however, is not at all the case. To sueh an in- 
 dividual it is of no consequence what the nature or 
 importance of the subject may be. Whether it is of 
 the most trifling character, or of the greatest magni- 
 tude, its contemplation by him, involves equally an ab- 
 sorption, and, for the time being, S'semingiy a suspen- 
 sion of all his other powers. The intensity of the 
 abstractive power is the same, whether he conteni- 
 plates the structure of a heel-tap or of a v/orld, the 
 figure of a hobnail, or the expanse of the universe. 
 
 CFIAPTER V. 
 
 Judgment or. Reason. 
 
 1. Judgment is that faculty of the mind which en> 
 ables it to decide in regard to the truth or falsehood of 
 whatever is brought to its cognizance. In an act of 
 judgment the determination of the mind is influenced, 
 by comparing the relations of ideas, or by comparison 
 of facts and arguments. Our notions of the relations 
 of things are derived from the exercise of this povv'er 
 of the mind, and vv^ithout it we should have no notions 
 of relations. These relations the judgment may en- 
 able us to perceive, instantly, without reference to 
 anything else, or its determinations may depend upon 
 a mental process involving the exercise of Reason. 
 
 is said of the importance of the subject v.'hich employs the thouglats 
 of such an individual ? 
 
 Chapter V. — 1. What is the judgment? How is the mind in- 
 fluenced in an act of judgment ? What do we derive from its ex- 
 ercise ? What would be our deficiency without it ? Vvliat may 
 the judgment enable us to perceive instantly ? Or upon what 
 may its determinations depend ? 
 
 I 
 
MENTAL PHlLOt;OPHT. 73 
 
 2. The truth or falsehood of a thing asserted may be 
 instantly perceived, without examination, or the dis- 
 covery of the truth or falsity of a given proposition 
 may be more remote, and require examination. In 
 both cases the perceptive facuhy^ is Judgment. In the 
 fii^t, it may be called intuitive judgment ; in the latter, 
 is involved a process of reason, called reasoiiing. 
 Reasoning is a process by which we pass in regular 
 sequence from one judgment to another. Judgment, 
 then, may be distinguished as hituiiive, depending upon 
 no previous judgment, and also, as Discursive or de- 
 ductive, being deduced from some preceding judgment, 
 by a chain of reasoning. 
 
 3. We shall, therefore, in the further prosecution of 
 our subject, regard Judgment as a generic terra, include 
 ing under it, 
 
 I. Intuition. 
 II. Reasoning. 
 
 4. I. Intuition. There are certain fundamental 
 principles which lie at the foundation of our knowledge, 
 the truth of which is instantly perceived, the moment 
 they are enunciated, and, indeed, seemingly forced upon 
 us hy our very constitution. What we mean by In- 
 tuition, therefore, is that act of the mind, by which it 
 perceives certain truths the moment they are presented. 
 These are called Intuitive, or First, or Primary Truths ; 
 
 9. What may be instantly perceived 1 Or what may be requi- 
 site ? What is the perceptive faculty in both cases ? What is it 
 called in the first? What in the latter ? What is reasoning?—. 
 How tiien is the judgment distinguished? 
 
 o. What term is the judgment and what does it include ? 
 
 4. What is said of certain fundamental principles which lie at 
 the found:ilion of our knowledge ? WTiat is meant by intuition ? 
 What are these principles called and why ? 
 
74 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 and are properly so called, "because they are the ul- 
 timate propositions into which all reasoning resolves 
 itself." 
 
 5. These truths force themselves upon the convic- 
 tion of all classes of men, by whom their force is felt, 
 perhaps, in an equal degree. Every one, with unhesi- 
 tating confidence, acts upon them, in all the constantly 
 occurring transactions of life. They are not suscep- 
 tible of proof by any process of reasoning, and hence, 
 any arguments put forth to establish or sustain them, 
 must be fallacious, and can be easily overthrown. In 
 former times, philosophical writers did attempt to es- 
 tablish them by a process of reasoning. Their reas- 
 oning, from the nature of the case, was necessarily 
 unsound. It was, therefore, successfully assailed by 
 sceptical writers. Triumphing over the defective ar- 
 guments of their opponents, the latter claimed that they 
 had overthrov/n the truths themselves. 
 
 6. But these truths were and are impregnable. 
 They stood equally unaffected by the impotent argu- 
 ments of the one side to sustain, and the desperate 
 scepticism of the other, which sought to overthrow 
 them. 
 
 7. As illustrative of the fallacious character of the 
 arguments used to esta-blish an intuitive truth, we may 
 appropriately refer to that of Des Cartes, in w^hich he 
 attempted to prove his own existence. He formed the 
 determination not to believe in his own existence till 
 
 5. Upon whom do these truths force themselves ? Who acts 
 Tipon them 1 Are they siisceptible of proof by any process of 
 reasoning ? What is said of arguments to sustain them ? What 
 did philosophers formerly attempt to do? What is said of their 
 reasoning? Who assailed it ? What did infidels claim ? 
 
 6. What are these truths ? Did they stand or were they over- 
 thrown ? 
 
 7. Give an example of an attempt to prove a first truth ? What 
 
\ 
 
 MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 75 
 
 he could prove it. He adopted, therefore, the follow- 
 ing process : Cogito, ergo su?n, I think, therefore, 
 I EXIST. This SQCcint argument was regarded by him 
 as entirely conclusive and impregnable. Neverthe- 
 less, it involves what the logicians call a petitio prin- 
 cippiL or begging of the question. There can be no 
 thought v/here there is no existence ; the argument, 
 therefore, assumes that to be true, which it attempts to 
 prove. It really amounts to this, when literally ren- 
 dered, namely, Cogito, I am a thinking being, Ergo 
 SUM, I am in being. His very premises, it will be ob- 
 served, assume his existence, and then the premises 
 themselves are adduced to prove his existence. 
 
 8. The argument itself then is unsound, of course 
 unsuccessful. But the overthrow of the argument af- 
 fects not the truth itself. To contend that the over- 
 throw of the argument overthrows the truth also, and 
 that, therefore, we have no evidence of our own exis- 
 tence, would be nothing short of arrant nonsense. The 
 fact of our existence as thinking beings, is the subject 
 of our consciousness. It is one of those leading, 
 primary truths, which, as no argument is needed, or 
 can be formed to sustain, so none can be employed, 
 competent to overthrow it. This is characteristic of 
 all the first principles of belief. Des Cartes succeeded 
 as well as any one ever did or ever will, in his attempt 
 to prove, by process of reasoning, an Intuitive article 
 of belief. 
 
 9. The chief kinds or sources of intuitive truth are 
 
 does such an argument involve ? How is it explained ? What is 
 said of the premises ? 
 
 8. What of the argument ? What would be arrant nonsense ? 
 What is the subject of our consciousness ? Does it need any ar- 
 gument to establish it ? Why ? Is it characteristic of all of them? 
 What is said of Des Cartes ? 
 
ELEMENTARY OUTLINE GF 
 
 the evidence of the Senses, of Consciousness, of Msbi- 
 ORY, and of Axioms. 
 
 10. The external senses, hearing, seeing, smelling, 
 touching, and tasting, afford us all the evidence we 
 have of the material world around us ; and we can no 
 more doubt the existence of objects, the evidence ct 
 which is conveyed to us through these sources, than 
 we can our ovv'n existence. For example, to doubt our 
 ov/n existence would be no more absurd than to doubt 
 the existence of a body which we see and handle. 
 
 11. Consciousness is another source of intuitive be- 
 lief. By it we are made acquainted with our mental 
 states and operations. We exercise thought, feeling, 
 choice — we experience sorrov/, pain, pleasure, disgust. 
 These are mental states. They are facts of which we 
 are conscious. We cannot disbelieve them. We can- 
 not doubt their reality. Such is the testimony of con- 
 sciousness. Such the intuitive conviction of an exist- 
 ing fact v/hich it fastens upon the mind. It is a species 
 of evidence, than which there is none higher, when 
 fully ascertained and made apparent. 
 
 12. The evidence of MciiiGvy is another source of 
 certain knowledge, or intuitive belief We remember 
 past facts, whether pertaining to mind or matter. 
 Thus memory gives us our knowledge of the past. 
 This is a species of evidence upon which men rely 
 with as great a feeling of certainty, as upon any evi- 
 
 9. What are the chief kinds of intuitive truth ? 
 
 10. What affords us all the evidence we have of existence of 
 material things ? Do we doubt the existence of objects ? 
 
 11. With wliat does consciousness mske us acquainted 1 What 
 are mental states? Can we disbelieve them? Is there a higher 
 species of evidence than consciousness ? ' 
 
 12. What is another source of knovvledge ? What do we remem- 
 ber ? What is said of this specie:? of evidence ? What are deter^^ 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 77 
 
 dence furnished by the senses. Upon such testimony, 
 the most weighty causes, affecting life, liberty, and 
 property, are determined in our courts. It is also true 
 that that may be relied upon, as certain present knowl- 
 edge, which gained our belief and assent upon an in- 
 vestigation long past, although we may have forgotten 
 the particular process of investigation, and the individ- 
 ual steps by which we arrived at the conclusion. To 
 reject the evidence of memory, as a source of certain 
 knowledge, is to sweep away the basis of demonstrative 
 reasoning. 
 
 13. Mathematical axioms afford another species of 
 intuitive belief. These are abstract truths which force 
 conviction upon the mind, the moment the terms are 
 understood by which they are expressed. I'hey can- 
 not be proved, for no propositions of greater certainty 
 can be employed from which to deduce their truth. 
 
 14. The following may be referred to, as chiefly 
 embracing what are called intuitive truths : 
 
 (1.) A belief in our personal existence. This truth 
 must rest upon the conviction of every one, who takes 
 any cognizance of his mental states. When any body 
 comes in contact with the senses, an impression is pro- 
 duced, and a perception of the object av/akened, and 
 at the same time there must arise a conviction of a 
 percipient being. For example, when sight, hearing, 
 touch, &;c., are excited, there is unavoidably an accom- 
 
 mined upon such testimony in our courts ? What may be rehed 
 upon as certain present knowledge? What would be the rejec- 
 tion of the evidence of memory as a source of certain knowledge? 
 
 13. What is another species of intuitive belief? How are these 
 truths forced upon the mind ? Can they be proved ? Why ? 
 
 14, What is the first intuitive truth? What must this truth 
 rest upon ? When is there an impression produced and a percep- 
 tion awakened ? What must arise at the same time ? Give the 
 
78 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 panying belief in the existence of a being, who sees, 
 hears, and feels. This belief springs from the very 
 constitution of our nature, and hence is neither suscep- 
 tible of proof, nor does it require argument to sustain 
 it. For the same reason it is fearless of any argument 
 attempting its overthrow. 
 
 15. (2.) A belief in our j)ersonal identity. This 
 truth is derived from the combined operation of con- 
 sciousness and memory. Whatever may have been 
 the mental states of an individual, however, great may 
 have been the change which has taken place in his 
 character at different periods of time, whether he has 
 reference to the past, the present, or the future, he has, 
 and retains the unhesitating and unalterable conviction, 
 that the thinking, sentient being whom he calls him- 
 self, remains uniformly the same. Upon this intuitive 
 conviction, all men act in all the transactions of life. 
 
 16. (3.) T he material loorld exists. This involves 
 the evidence of our senses, and a conviction that ma- 
 terial bodies have an existence independently of our 
 sensations. This is an intuitive truth, admitting no 
 other proof than the universal conviction of mankind. 
 
 17. (4.) Me7nory may he trusted. It is not meant 
 that there is no liability to mistake from this source. 
 All that is meant is, that when we feel certain that 
 memory retains a correct impression of past percep- 
 tions, we act with the same feeling of certainty and 
 
 example? From what does this belief spring ? What is said of 
 it ? For the same reason of what is it fearless ? 
 
 15. What is the second intuitive truth ? From what is this truth 
 derived ? What is said of it ? Who act upon it in all the trans- 
 actions of life 1 
 
 16. What is the third intuitive truth ? V/hat does it involve ? 
 Of what proof does it admit ? 
 
 17. What is said of memory ? What is not meant ? What is 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 79 
 
 confidence, as we should do if the remembrances were 
 the perceptions of the present moment. Without such 
 trust in memory, we could hardly maintain our exis- 
 tence. Certain it is, we could derive no benefit from 
 the experience of the past. 
 
 18. (5.) Every effect must have a cause. The 
 cause too, it is equally evident, must be adequate to 
 the efiect. When we see contrivance, our minds are 
 inevitably led to the conclusion that there is an efii- 
 cient cause for the contrivance — a contriver. For ex- 
 ample, v/e see a watch. Its curious mechanism unfolds 
 contrivance. The conclusion of the mind irresistibly 
 follows, that there is an intelligent cause of the contriv- 
 ance. So, also, when we look abroad over the ma- 
 terial creation, we see all around us evidences of design. 
 Our minds are at once, and intuitively, conducted to 
 the belief in the existence of a designer ; an intelligent 
 cause adequate to produce the effects which we witness. 
 We are thus led, '"through nature, up to nature's God." 
 The immense conclusion is fastened upon the mind, 
 that there is a God — " a perceiving, intelligent, design- 
 ing Being, at the head of creation, and from whose will 
 it proceeded. The attributes must be adequate to the 
 magnitude, extent, and multiplicity of his operations, 
 which are not only vast beyond comparison with those 
 performed by any other power, but, so far as respects 
 our conceptions of them, infinite, because they are un- 
 limited on all sides." 
 
 meant ? What would be our condition without such trust ? What 
 is certain? 
 
 18. What is said of every efiect? What of the enuse ? How are 
 our minds affected when we see contrivance ? Give the example 
 of the watch ? When we look at the material world what do we 
 see ? What are our minds led to believe ? How are we led 1 — 
 What is the conclusion ? What is said of his attributes ? 
 
80 ELEMENTARY O'UTLINE OF 
 
 19. (6.) The uniformity of nature may he trusted. 
 This involves the belief that the same substances will 
 always present the same characters, and that the same 
 causes, under similar circumstances, will always pro- 
 duce the same effects. This truth intuitively receives 
 the assent of the mind, and is confidently acted upon in 
 all the transactions of life. Founded upon it are all 
 our arrangements and calculations for future life, in- 
 volving protection, comfort, and even our very exis- 
 tence. It can readily be appreciated, that without this 
 confidence in the uniformity of nature, instead of order 
 and system, wild confusion would characterize all hu- 
 man affairs. 
 
 20. These truths which we have been considering, 
 being fundamental, are of the most essential impor- 
 tance, as they lie at the foundation of our knowledge, 
 and involve the ultnnate propositions in our processes 
 of reasoning. Unsusceptible of proof by any deduc= 
 tions of reasoning, and at the same time invulnerable 
 to the assaults of sophists and sceptics, they afford a 
 true, overwhelming, and only answer to many of the 
 sophisms of the scholastic philosophy, and to many 
 sceptical arguments of m.ore modern times. 
 
 21. An appeal to the consciousness of every indi- 
 vidual, must afford complete evidence of their truth, 
 and compel belief 
 
 22. Dr. Brown says, "We believe them because it 
 is impossible not to believe them." 
 
 19. What is said of the uniformity of nature ? What belief 
 does this truth involve ? What is farther said of it? What is 
 founded upon it ? What effect would follow without this confi- 
 dence in the uniformity of nature ? 
 
 20. Are these truths important ? \YhY ? What answer do they 
 afford ? 
 
 21. What is said of an appeal to the consciousness of every in- 
 dividual ? 
 
 22. What is Dr. Brown's remark ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY 81 
 
 23. Mr. Stewart remarks, " In all these cases, the only 
 account that can be given of our belief is, that it forms 
 a necessary part of our constitution, against which 
 metaphysicians may argue, so as to perplex the judg- 
 ment, but of which it is impossible to divest ourselves 
 for a moment, when we are called to employ our 
 reason, either in the business of life or in the pursuits 
 of science." 
 
 24. As intuitive or primary truths lie at the founda- 
 tion of every act of reasoning, it follows, that when 
 one asserts that any given opinion is contrary to 
 reason, he is bound to show that it is contradictory to 
 some one of those intuitive or primary truths. 
 
 25. II. Reasoning. Dr. Hedge, in his elements of 
 Logic, remarks, that "Judgment is an act of the mind, 
 uniting or separating two objects of thought, according 
 as they are perceived to agree or disagree. The re- 
 lation between these objects is sometimes discovered by 
 barely contemplating them, without any reference to 
 anything else, and sometimes by comparing them with 
 other objects, to which they have a known relation. 
 The former is simple comparison, the latter is an act 
 of reasoning. The determination of the mind, in both 
 cases, is denominated judgment. Every act of judg- 
 ment is grounded on some sort of evidence. That 
 which determines the mind in simple comparison, is 
 called intuitive evidence ; and that which is employed 
 in reasoning, deductive. ^^ 
 
 23. What is Mr. Stewart's ? 
 
 24. As intuitive truths lie at the foundation of every act of rea- 
 soning what is one bound to do, who asserts that a given opinion 
 is contrary to reason ? 
 
 25. How does Dr. Hedge define judgment ? How is the rela- 
 tion between objects discovered ? What is the former called ? What 
 is the latter called ? What is the determination of the mind in 
 both cases called ? On what is every act of judgment grounded ? 
 What is called intuitive evidence ? What deductive ? 
 
83 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 26. The decisions of the mind, when founded upon 
 intuitive evidence, we have called Iniuition— the pro- 
 cess of the mind when employed with deductive evi- 
 dence, v/e call Reasoning. 
 
 27. Reasoning is but a prolonged exercise of reason. 
 It may consist of m.any steps, the first conclusion being 
 a premise to the second, the second to the third, and so 
 on till v/e come to the last conclusion. Thus unknown 
 propositions are deduced from previous ones which are 
 knov/n, or are evident, or which are admitted or sup- 
 posed for the sake of argument. 
 
 28. All the objects of the human understanding may 
 be reduced to two classes, namelj^, abstract ideas, and 
 things really existing. Of abstract ideas, and their re- 
 lations, all our knowledge is certain, being founded on 
 mathem£itical evidence, which includes intuitive evi- 
 dence, and the evidence of strict demonstration. 
 
 29. All knowledge is either Intuitive, Demonstrative, 
 Moral or Probable. Intuitive knowledge is extremely 
 circumscribed, and reasoning, therefore, begins where 
 intuition ends. 
 
 30. The most general division of Reasoning then, 
 is into Moral or probable, and Demonstrative. 
 
 31. Demonstration is employed about abstract and 
 independent truths, or those relations which are con- 
 
 26. What have we called intuition ? What have we called rea- 
 soning ? 
 
 27. Of what is reasoning a prolonged exercise ? Of what may- 
 it consist ? What is said of the first, second and third conclusions ? 
 Thus, what is deduced ? 
 
 28. To how many classes are all objects of the human under- 
 standing reduced ? What is said of abstract ideas ? What does 
 mathematical evidence include ? 
 
 29. What is said of all knowledge ? Which is circumscribed ? 
 Where does reasoning begin ? 
 
 30. What is the most general division of reasoning ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. ^3^ 
 
 sidered necessary, and whose subjects may be exactly 
 measured and defined. The properties of number and 
 quantity are of this sort. They have no respect to 
 time or place, depend on no cause, and are subject to 
 no change. 
 
 32. The subjects of moral reasoning are matters of 
 fact, which are in their nature contingent, and the va- 
 riable connections, which subsist among things in actu- 
 al existence. Thus, that mercury may be congealed 
 by cold, that lead is fusible, that Hannibal led an army 
 over the Alps, and that Lisbon was destroyed by an 
 Earthquake, and the like, are truths within the province 
 of moral reasoning. 
 
 33. Induction^ is a species of moral reasoning. — 
 This is reasoning from particulars to generals — the 
 deduction of general truths from particular facts. This 
 mode of reasoning is founded on the belief that the 
 laws of nature are uniform, and that what we have 
 witnessed of their operation in the past, will occur a- 
 gain under like circumstances in the future. 
 
 34. Analogy is another species of moral reasoning. 
 It is founded, also, upon a confidence in the uniformity 
 of nature's laws. In reasoning from analogy, we ar- 
 gue from a fact or thing experienced, to something 
 similar not experienced. The opinion formed, in this 
 mode of reasoning, will be more or less confidently en- 
 tertained, in proportion as there is greater or less sim- 
 
 31. About what is demonstration employed ? What sort is men. 
 tioned ? What is said of them ? 
 
 32. What are the subjects of moral reasoning ? What are the 
 examples given to illustrate the province of moral reasoning ? 
 
 33. What is said of induction ? In what is it founded ? 
 
 31. What is another species of moral reasoning ? In what is it 
 founded ? In reasoning from analogy how do we argue ? In pro- 
 portion to what is opinion formed in this mode of reasoning? How 
 
84 ELEMF.NTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 ilarity between the circumstance from which, and the 
 one to which, we argue. Inductive and analogical 
 reasoning are so similar, that it is difficult to point out 
 their specific difference. Every inductive process com- 
 mences with analogy. Analogy is not regarded as an 
 entirely safe mode of reasoning, and its conclusions, 
 for that reason, ought never to be received with impli- 
 cit and unhesitating reliance. 
 
 35. Another mode of reasoning has for its field con- 
 tingent truth, not what must necessarily be at all times, 
 but what is, or was, or shall be. This of course in- 
 volves the investigation of those important and inter- 
 esting truths which are comprised under the general 
 name o^ facts. Such truths go to make up by far the 
 greater and more important part of our knowledge, and 
 for the essential reason that they enter into the busi- 
 ness of life. It is by moral evidence alone, that we 
 are enabled to reason on historical facts, and the tran- 
 sient and ever varying transactions which are taking 
 place in the world. For these are facts so dissimilar 
 in their nature and causes, that no general principles 
 of reasoning can be stated, from which they can be 
 deduced. Our conclusions are also influenced, on the 
 highly important and interesting subjects, of govern- 
 ment and religion, by the same kind of evidence. 
 
 36. The field of demonstrative reasoning, as has al- 
 ready been hinted at, is necessary or abstract truth. 
 Contingent truth is incapable of strict demonstration. 
 
 does every inductive process commence ? How is analogy regar- 
 ded and what is said of its conclusions ? 
 
 35. What is said of another mode of reasoning ? What does it 
 involve ? What is said of such truths ? What is said of moral 
 evidence alone ? What is said of these facts being so dissimilar 
 in their nature and causes ? What contusions are mentioned as 
 being influenced by the same kind of evidence ? 
 
 36. What is necessary or abstract truth ? Of what is contingent 
 truth incapable ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. ^5 
 
 37. It is a remark, however, of Professor Scott, that 
 every branch of science may occasionally assume the 
 demonstrative form. The existence of a Deity, the 
 immateriality of the human soul, and other moral and 
 metaphysical truths, have perhaps been as fairly de- 
 monstrated as the Pythagorian proposition, or the par- 
 abolic motion of projectiles. 
 
 88. But some sciences are far more susceptible of 
 such kind of proof than others ; physics admitting much 
 more of demonstration, than metaphysics or morals. 
 Of all the sciences, mathematics is that which admits 
 the most largely of demonstration. Its first principles 
 are so certain, so definite and clear, and its manner of 
 proof so accurate and legitimate, that it may fairly be 
 called a completely demonstrative science, and the only 
 one wliich is justly entitled to that name. vSo much for 
 the views of Professor Scott. 
 
 39. Mr. Locke advanced the opinion that moral 
 subjects are as susceptible of demonstration as mathe- 
 matical. 
 
 40. Dr. Hedge remarl-is, that whenever the subjects 
 of our reasoning are independent of the existence of 
 things, and are of a nature to afford exact definitions, 
 and general propositions of undoubted certainty, there, 
 
 37. What does Professor Scott remark ? What is the Pythago- 
 rean proposition ? Ans. The forty-seventh proposition of Euclid, 
 which was first solved by Pythagoras. V/hat is meant by the 
 parabolic motion of projectiles ? Ans. Every body projected or 
 thrown, forms a lino in space, which, setting aside the resistance of 
 the air is called a parabola ; and the parabola of conic sections en- 
 ables us to calculate, mathematically, the path of a projectile in free 
 space, from the proportionate magnitude of the two forces. 
 
 38. What is said of some sciences admitting proof? Which 
 science admits the most largely of demonstration ? What may it 
 be called ? 
 
 39. What opinion does Mr. Locke advance ? 
 
 E 
 
 1 
 
ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 this (the demonstrative) method of reasoning may be 
 employed. And it appears unnecessary to concede, 
 that these elements of demonstration are nowhere to be 
 found, except in the science of mathematics. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Imagination. 
 
 1. The exercise of the Imagination involves a com- 
 plex mental process. It denotes, first, the power of 
 conceiving ideas, without any view to their reality, 
 and, secondly, of combining these conceptions into 
 new assemblages. By the exercise of the imagina- 
 tion, therefore, we form new creations or combinations 
 which have no existence in nature. 
 
 2. Imagination is distinguished from Abstraction in 
 which we endeavor to generalize. Imagination in- 
 vents objects, with all their qualities, real or fictitious. 
 It exerts itself in matters which we know to be real, 
 as well as in matters which we invent or believe to be 
 fictitious. 
 
 3. Conception is frequently used as synonym.ous 
 with imagination — the latter, however, should be dis- 
 tinguished from the former as a part from a whole. 
 The business of conception is to present us with an 
 
 40. When, does Dr. Hedge say, that tlie demonstrative mode 
 of reasoning may be employed ? 
 
 Chapter VI. — 1, What does the exercise of the imagination 
 involve ? What does it first denote 1 And secondly what ? — 
 Therefore what do we form ? 
 
 2. How is the imagination distinguished from abstraction 7 — 
 What does it invent? Exerts itself how? 
 
 3. How is conception frequently used ? How should it be dis - 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 87 
 
 exact transcript of what we have felt or perceived. It 
 is the power of imagination which enables us to modify 
 our conceptions, by combining them, or part of them, 
 so as to form new wholes of our ov/n creation. The 
 complex mental process spoken of above, can here be 
 clearly seen. In the operation of re-arranging these 
 several conceptions, or parts thereof, so as to form a 
 new whole, abstraction is necessary, to separate from 
 each other qualities and circumstances which have 
 been perceived in conjunction, and also judgment and 
 taste to direct us in forming the combinations. A fa- 
 cility for forming these combinations so as to produce 
 an intended result, is what is called inventive genius. 
 
 4. The due government and regulation of the imag- 
 ination is of the highest importance to all men, as our 
 happiness is peculiarly affected by whatever affects 
 imagination — and as our actions are much influenced, 
 and their character greatly modified by it. 
 
 5. When a deed of guilt, crime, or atrocity, is per- 
 petrated, the perpetrator has generally dwelt, before 
 the commission of the crime, in his imagination, much 
 upon the scene, the circumstances, and the conse- 
 quences of the act. The deliberate murderer never 
 perpetrates his deed of blood without first, and it may 
 be many times, viewing, in imagination, the circum- 
 stantial details of his horrid act. He views, it may be, 
 his future victim, defenseless in unconscious sleep. 
 
 tinguished ? With what does conception present us ? What does 
 the power of imagination enable us to do ? What can be clearly- 
 seen? Why is abstraction necessary in the exercise of imagina- 
 tion ? What besides is necessarj'- ? Why ? What is called an in- 
 ventive genius ? 
 
 4. Why is it important to control the imagination ? 
 
 5. What is said of the imagination of a person who deliberately 
 commits an atrocious crime ? 
 
 E 2 
 
88 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 He views himself, with uplifted arm, standing over the 
 helpless sleeper. The arm descends — imagination 
 continues her power, and, with terrible distinctness, he 
 sees the dagger strike to the heart — the gushing blood 
 he almost feels, warm from the fountain of life, upon 
 his murderous hand — he sees the frantic start, and 
 seems to hear the fearful, heart-rending exclamation 
 of his horror-struck, dying, bleeding victim. To end 
 the struggle, he plies again and again the dagger — the 
 conflict ceases — a convulsive quivering of the frame — 
 a groan — a sigh — and all is still. He stands alone in 
 the chamber of death — his work accomplished, his 
 victim before him. Now imagination pictures to him 
 the ingenious devices by which he will elude pursuit 
 and detection. 
 
 6. Having thus contemplated an act of crime yet 
 future, he goes forth to give reality to the scenes so 
 fearfully depicted by a guilty imagination. 
 
 7. The deleterious influence of a prurient, unre- 
 strained, unchastened imagination, is incalculable. No 
 faculty is naturally more irregular and rambling in its 
 motions, or demands more loudly the control of a gov- 
 erning power. 
 
 8. It stands in most need of restraint, when it runs 
 into either of the opposite extremes of levity or melan- 
 choly. The first is incident to youth ; the second to 
 manhood and old age. The latter is more fatal to 
 happiness than the former, but both are attended with 
 much evil. Those minds which are in most danger 
 
 6. Having thus contemplated the scene, what does he go forth 
 to do? 
 
 7. What is said of the deleterious influence of a prurient, un- 
 restrained, unchastened imagination? What does this faculty- 
 demand ? Why ? 
 
 8. When does it need most restraint ? To whom is the 6rst in- 
 
MENTAL PHILO.SOPHV. €# 
 
 from levity of imagination, are of a joyous or sanguine 
 temperament, with a great share of vanity, and apt on 
 all occasions to amuso themselves with the hope of suc- 
 cess, and of higher felicity, than men have reason to 
 look for in this world. 
 
 9. They are tlie dupes ol the flatterer, and misin- 
 terpret common civilities, for compliments paid to their 
 superior merit. They form a thousand schemes of 
 conduct, few of which can be reduced to practice, and 
 look down v/ith contempt on all those plodding mortals, 
 who, having only good sense to guide them, and dis- 
 claiming all extravagant hopes, aim at nothing beyond 
 the common pursuits of life. 
 
 10. Another dangerous levity of imagination is the 
 habit of turning every thing into joke and ridicule. It 
 is so allied to the other as to derive its origin from 
 vanity, for no man will persist in it, who has not a 
 high opinion of his own talents. To correct such an 
 unfortunate propensity, a love of nature and of truth 
 must be instilled into the mind. 
 
 11. Flatterers and romances must be banished for 
 ever. Honesty, industr}^, and sobriety, should be cher- 
 ished, and the wretchedness ever attendant on the ef- 
 forts of fantastic ambition should be carefully consid- 
 ered. Extravagant expectations, of course, cannot be 
 realized, and, sooner or later, disappointment and an- 
 
 rident? The second ? Which is the most fatal to happines;^, 
 levity or rjielancholy ? With what are i)oth attended? W^hat is 
 the state of those minds which are in most danger from levity of 
 imagination ? 
 
 9. Of what are they the dupes? They misinterpret what? 
 W'hat is said of their schemes of conduct? 
 
 10. What is another dangerous levity of imagination ? W^hat 
 is said of it ? How can it be corrected ? 
 
 11. W^hat must be forever banished ? W^hat should be cherish- 
 ed ? WHiat should be considered ? WHiat is said of extravagant 
 
90 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 guish will come. Adversity, indeed, is a severe mon- 
 itor, but no other is so effectual in promoting that 
 knowledge of one's self which is the parent of humility, 
 or in begetting that fellow-feeling for the infirmities of 
 other men, which melts the heart into forbearance and 
 good will, and restrains the sallies of intemperate pas- 
 sion, and the flights of unruly fancy. 
 
 12. A gloomy imagination, when it grows ungov* 
 ernable, is a dreadful calamity, indeed. In this for- 
 lorn condition, a man not only feels the extremes of 
 anxiety and fear, but is apt to fancy that his conscience, 
 and every power of heaven and earth, are combined 
 against him. Folly is a weakness of understanding, 
 but this kind of phrensy which mistakes its own ideas 
 for realities, has often been the lamentable portion of 
 those, who, in the common affairs of life, and indeed 
 on every topic, except that which discomposed them, 
 could think and speak with propriety. 
 
 13. Let those who wish to preserve their imagina- 
 tions in a cheerful and healthy state, cultivate piety, 
 and guard against superstition, by forming right no- 
 tions of God's adorable being and providence, and 
 cherishing the corresponding afiections of love, vener- 
 ation, and gratitude. 
 
 expectations ? What of adversity 1 What does it beget ? Re- 
 strains what ? 
 
 12. What is a great calamity indeed ? How does a person feel, 
 and what does he fancy in this state of mind ? What is his mis- 
 take ? Is he competent to attend to the common affairs of life ? 
 
 13. How can the imagination be kept in a cheerful and healthy 
 state 1 Against what must they guard ? How ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 9jt 
 
 PART III, 
 
 OF THE SUSCEPTIBILITY. 
 
 The mind is formed with an aptitude to feeling. 
 Feeling is consequent upon knowledge, or intellection. 
 Upon this order of sequence is based this great divis- 
 ion of the mind, distinguished as Susceptibility, This, 
 also, like the intellect is capable of certain subordinate 
 divisions. In the prosecution of our enquiries, our 
 reference of the subject will be principally to two heads, 
 namely, the Desires and the Affections, 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 The Desires. 
 
 1. Desire is an act of the mind towards some object, 
 which we wish to obtain. As this broad definition in- 
 cludes any and all objects, towards which desire may 
 be exercised, it, as'^a matter of course follows, that the 
 objects of desire are co-extensive with the whole field, 
 of human effort for the attainment of ends, and the 
 acquisition of things, regarded as worthy of pursuit. 
 It is hardly necessary to remark that various estimates, 
 are placed by ditTerent individuals, upon distinct objects 
 of pursuit. Some regarding that, as useless, and not 
 
 Part III. — How is the mind formed? Upon what is feeling 
 consequent ? What is based upon tliis order of sequence ? Is 
 susceptibility capable of divisions ? To how many heads is it 
 referable ^ 
 
 Chap, L — 1. What is desire ? What does this definition include ? 
 
92 LLEMErsTART OUTLINE OF 
 
 worth a wish or thought, the attainment of which ab- 
 sorbs almost the whole being of others. 
 
 2. The desire of happiness is called by the best 
 writers, Self-love. This, by some, is regarded as the 
 genus, including all desires. Hence, the desire of pleas- 
 ure, happiness irom the senses, from knowledge, power, 
 elevation of character, the happiness of others, &c., 
 are only species under this genus. They are the ob- 
 jective good, my happiness the subjective good. 1 de- 
 sire them all for the sake of ray own happiness— be- 
 cause they promote my own happiness. 
 
 3. Self-love is sometimes used as synonjiTiOus with 
 seUishness. This is a great mistake. An important 
 distinctinction is hero to be made. Self-love is merely 
 the constitutional desire of happiness. This is an in- 
 voluntary state. An involuntar)^, constitutional state, 
 is not a moral state. When kept ^vithin its proper 
 sphere, its indulgence is not v/rong, but is made to sub- 
 serve the most important ends. Thus circumscribed, 
 it constitutes prudence, and a jast regard to our own 
 protection, safety and welfare. The inordinate exer- 
 cise of self-love, in which the happiness of an individ- 
 ual is sought, at the expense of the rights, feelings and 
 happiness of other individuals, degenerates into selfish- 
 ness. This is a voluntary state, involves morality and 
 
 What then follows as a matter of course ? What seems hardly ne- 
 cessary to remark ? What do some regard ? 
 
 2. What do the best writers call the de.sire of happiness ? How 
 is this regarded ? What are species included nndey this genus ? 
 Which arc the objective and which tlie siibjeetire good 1 In what 
 .sense is objective here used? A/is. Every object not belunginj^ 
 to one's self. How is subjective to be understood ? Atis. Per- 
 tainmg to one's self. V/hj^ do I desire them all ? 
 
 3. How is self love someiiuies used ? What is self love ? What 
 state is it ? Is it moral ? What is said of it ? Circumscribed 
 thus what does it coiislifule .' When does self love degenerate 
 
MENTAL rHiLOSOfHY. 93 
 
 is wrong* This distinction should be clearly noted, and 
 we will repeat, namely, Self-love, in a strict sense, is 
 an involuntary, constitutional state, and therefore its 
 exercise is right and wholesome. Selfishness, is Self- 
 love degenerated) is a voluntary, not a constitutional 
 state, and therefore wrong. 
 
 4. Great confusion and misapprehension not unfre- 
 quently arises, because a clear distinction is not defined 
 between an involuntary, constitutional, and a voluntary 
 state. For example, Emulation is by many regarded 
 wrong. But so far from this is it, that the involuntary, 
 constitutional desire of excellence is a noble and ele- 
 vating part of our nature. It is not impregnated with 
 moral characteristics. But a desire and purpose to 
 destroy others, in order to promote our own elevation, 
 is voluntary, and wicked. No state is moral which is 
 not voluntary — and no state has any practical merit, 
 but a state of volition. 
 
 5. Susceptibility to happiness from the happiness of 
 others, or a desire for the happiness of others, is denied 
 by some. But it may be proved by consciousness. 
 Every one is conscious, that his own happiness is pro- 
 moted, by promoting the happiness of others. If this 
 susceptibility does not exist in the mind, what possible 
 motive cn.n there be prompting us to please others. 
 None. And if none, the desire in question exists. 
 
 6. When a person gives another pain, this constitu- 
 tional desire is overcome by a stronger desire. 
 
 into selfishness ? What is said of it ? Why is it repeated ? Re- 
 peat the distinction ? 
 
 4. Why does there arise not unfrequently confusion and mis 
 apprehension? Give an example? What desire is wicked? 
 Wiiat state is moral ? 
 
 5. What is denied by some ? How is it proved ? Of what is 
 every one conscious ? W^ky do we wish to please others ? What 
 then exists ? 
 
 G. When is this constitutional desire overcome 1 
 E 3 
 
94 ELEMENTARY OUTLIxXE OP 
 
 7. The word desire is somewhat ambiguous. It is 
 sometimes used in the sense of choice or voluntary 
 state, and, sometimes, in the sense of propensity, in- 
 clination, in which last sense it is not as ambiguous. 
 Emotion is a more generic term. Passion differs from 
 emotion only in degree. Appetite is sometimes used 
 to signify the desire, sometimes with and sometimes 
 without a sense of uneasiness. 
 
 8. Every desire is not followed by volition. W6 
 may desire an object, and yet put forth no volition 
 towards its attainment. We may feel the impulse of 
 anger, a desire of revenge may spring up within, and 
 3^et y/e may act with entire forbearance. ^' 
 
 9. " The mental condition which we call Desire, ap* 
 pears to lie in a great measure at the foundation of 
 character, and for a sound moral condition, it is requi- 
 red that the desires be directed to worthy objects, and 
 that the degree and strength of the desire be accommo- 
 dated to the true and relative value of each of these 
 objects. If the desires are thus directed worth}^ con- 
 duct will be likely to follow in a steady and uniform 
 manner. If they are allowed to break from these 
 restraints of reason and the moral principle, the man 
 is left at the mercy of unhallowed passion, and is lia- 
 ble to those irregularities which naturally result, from 
 such a derangement of the moral feelings. 
 
 10. If, indeed, we would see the evils produced by 
 
 7. What is said of tlie word desire ? How is it used 1 What is 
 a more generic term ? Define generic ? Ans. Pertaining to a 
 genus or kind. How docs passion differ from emotion ? How is 
 appetite sometimes used 1 
 
 8. What is said of volition in relation to desire ? 
 
 9. What is said of desire in relation to character? Why should 
 the desires be directed to worthy objects ? When will the con- 
 duct be steady and uniform ? What will be the result if one throws 
 off the restraints of reason and the moral principle ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 95 
 
 desire, when not thus controlled, we have only to look 
 at the whole history of humankind. What accumula- 
 ted miseries arise from the want of due regulation of 
 the animal desires or propensities, in the various forms 
 in which they degrade the character of rational beings. 
 
 11. What evils spring from the love of money, and 
 the desire of power, from the contests of rivals, and 
 the tumults of party. — What envy, hatred, malignity, 
 and revenge. What complicated wretchedness follows 
 the train of ambition, contempt of human suffering, 
 countries depopulated, and fields deluged with blood. 
 Such are the results of desire, when not directed to ob- 
 jects worthy of a moral being, and not kept under the 
 rigid control of conscience, and the immutable laws of 
 moral rectitude. 
 
 12. When in any of these forms, a selfish, or sensual 
 propensity is allowed to pass the due boundary, which 
 is fixed for it by reason and the moral principle, the 
 mental harmony is destroyed, and even the judgment 
 itself comes to be impaired and distorted in that highest 
 of all inquiries, the search after moral truth. 
 
 13. The desires, indeed, may exist in an ill-regulated 
 state, while the conduct is yet restrained by various 
 principles, such as submission to human laws, a regard 
 to character, or even a certain feeling of what is mor- 
 ally right, contending with the vitiated principle within. 
 But this cannot be considered as the healthy condition 
 of a moral being. It is only when the desire itself is 
 sound that we can sav that the man is in moral health. 
 
 JO. Where shall we look to see lho.se results ? 
 
 1 1. Mention some of the results of misguided desire ? 
 
 12. When is the mental harmony destroyed ? How does it af- 
 fect the ju.lgment ? In what sense is it impaired P 
 
 VA. Can the desires be wrong and tlie conduct right ? What 
 may be the motives which restrain them in this case ? What is 
 said of this condition ? When do we say one is in moral health ? 
 
96 ELEMENTAllY Ol.TLLNE Gi' 
 
 This, accordiDgly, is the great principle so often and 
 so strikingly enforced in the sacred writings, namely,- 
 *'Keep thy heart with all diligence because out of it 
 are the issues of life." ''Blessed are the pure in heart, 
 for they shall see God" 
 
 14. Thus there are desires which are folly, and there 
 are desires which are vice, even though they should 
 not be followed b)^ indulgence; and tliere are desires 
 which tend to purify ond elevate the moral nature, 
 though their objects should be beyond the reach of our 
 full attainment in the present state of being. 
 
 15. Perfect moral purity is not the lot of man in 
 this transient state, and is not to be attained by his own 
 wnaided efforts. But, subservient to it is that warfare 
 within, that earnest and habitual desire after the per- 
 fection of a moral being, which is felt to be the great 
 object of life, when this life is viewed in relation to a 
 hereafter. 
 
 16. For tills attainment, however, nian nziust feel his 
 total inadequacy, the utmost eiforts of human reason 
 having failed in unfolding the requisite aid. We are 
 thus forcibly taught tliat a bigbor infiuence is necessa- 
 ry, and this influence is l\illy disclosed in tJie light of 
 revealed truth. We arc tliere taught to look for a, 
 power from on high, crqjalilo of effecting vvhat human 
 effort cannot acc-.,implish~~the purification of the hearty 
 and the consequent regulation and due subordination 
 of the desires. 
 
 What principle is eitinrL-ed in tlie sacred wnniig^, and how is it 
 expressed ? 
 
 14. What kind of desires nve spoken of? 
 
 15. What is said of perfect moral purity ? Ily-.v shall k be at- 
 tained ? Wh:jt is subservient to it ? 
 
 IG. How must man fyel in order to make this attainment ? What 
 has failed in afilbrdiiig adequate aid ? What then is necessary ? 
 What does Kevelation teach that, thatpower can accojrrplish ? 
 
r.tENiAL fHiLOSdpnt. - 9§ 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 The Affections. 
 
 1. A DisTiNXTioN is Sometimes mpide between desire 
 and alFection. The Desires involve those emotions 
 v/hose exercise is calculated to produce gratification to 
 ourselves, the Affections involve those emotions whose 
 exercise leads to a discharge of the relative duties of 
 life. Desire, then, in its exercise, may be said to be 
 subjective^ and Affection may be said to be objective. 
 
 2. In the prosecution of the present inquiry, we 
 shall include, under the term Affections, those emo^ 
 tlons commonly denominated Passions, for the only 
 difference between Affections and Passions is in degree* 
 Nor is it to be supposed that any affection or passion 
 has been implanted in the human soul by the great 
 Author of our existence, which, properly regulated and 
 restrained, will not subserve a useful, rather than a 
 hurtful purpose. It is the vitiated exercise of the af- 
 fections or passions which produces so much mischief. 
 
 3. Tlie Affections are originnl principles of our na- 
 ture, by which we mean constitutional susceptibilitieSi 
 In their due constitutional exercise, morality is not 
 predicable of them. The same distinction is to be 
 made here, that we made when treating of the Desires, 
 namely, into constitutional or involuntary, and volun- 
 
 CiiAPiER li.— 1. Vv'hal distinction is sometimes made ? What 
 emotions do the desires involve ? What the atlcctions ? What is 
 said of desire in its exercise ? What of afl'ection ? 
 
 2. Wliat emotions are inckided under the term affections ? Wliat 
 is the diherence hetwcen affections and passions ? What is not to 
 bo supposed ? What has produced so much mischief ? 
 
 d. What is meant by tlie Jtffections ? V/hen io mortality no 
 
OB ELEMENTARY OUtLlNE OF 
 
 untary states. The former operation is not a moral 
 state, the latter is. The constitutional exercise of an 
 affection involves no sense of duty, nor any calcula- 
 tion of propriety or utility. 
 
 4; This may be illustrated by l-eference to a mother, 
 who, in total disregard of self, of ease, comfort, and 
 health, through wearisome days and v/atchful nights, 
 devotes herself to the wants of a sick child. She is 
 impelled to this, not by a sense of duty, or a motive of 
 utility, but by that constitutional, inwrought affection 
 of her nature, which leads her, by its own intuitive and 
 irresistible force to the exertion of the painful and pro- 
 tracted efforts which she puts forth. 
 
 5. It appears, then, that an affection may be an orig- 
 inal, inherent principle of our constitutional suscepti- 
 bility, and as s'ach its operations may be carried on by 
 its own intrinsic strength. The exercise, therefore, 
 involves an involuntary constitutional, rather than a 
 voluntary moral state. 
 
 6. The Affections have been divided into the Ben- 
 evolent and Malevolent Affections. This, however, 
 especially in view of the foregoing considerations, is 
 thought at leo,st, in reference to what are called mal- 
 evolent, to be a defective classification. For it will be 
 seen that the due constitutional exercise of the emotions 
 referred to in this last class, cannot involve malevol- 
 ence. Their implantation in our nature was made to 
 subserve the wisest purposes, and to operate for protec- 
 
 predicable of them ? What distinction is made ? What is said 
 of these states ? 
 
 4. How is it ilhistrated ? Why does she do this ? 
 
 5. What then appears ? 
 
 6. How have the affections been divided ? Why is this division 
 considered defective ? Why were the passions implanted in our 
 nature ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY* 99 
 
 tion and defense, against the conduct and encroach- 
 ments of other men. 
 
 7. When they go beyond this simple constitutional 
 exercise, and become impregnated with malevolence, 
 and evolve revengeful actions-, then the exercise is a 
 degenerated, morbid one, of the emotions in question* 
 The mental state is changed from constitutional to 
 voluntary, and of this morality is predicable — it is 
 wicked. 
 
 8. A different classihcation of the affections is pre^* 
 ferred by Dr. A.bercrombie, namely, the Uniting and 
 Defensive Affections, including under the former. Jus- 
 tice, Benevolence, Veracity, Friendship, Love, Grati- 
 tude, Patriotism, and the Domestic Affections ; under 
 the latter, Jealousy, Disapprobation, and Anger. 
 
 9. Another, and a more ancient division, is into 
 Calm and Violent — including under the former what 
 were regarded as m^ore properly the Affections, as Ben- 
 evolence, Pity, Gratitude, and in general all the vir- 
 tuous and innocent emotions; and under the latter, 
 what were more generally regarded as Passions, 
 namely, Anger, Hatred, Avarice, Ambition, Revenge, 
 excessive Joy or Sorrow, and in general all criminal 
 and all immoderate em.otions. 
 
 10. These several classifications, it will be observed, 
 amount to nearly or quite the same thing, under a 
 change of name; neither of them admitting, without 
 violating strict propriety, under the significant terms 
 employed, a classification of every specific emotion, 
 affection, susceptibility, or passion of the soul. 
 
 7. When does the exercise of passion become wicked ? Wha 
 is Dr. Abercrombie's classilication of the affections ? Wliat docs 
 the former include ? What the latter ? 
 
 9. What is another classification mentioned ? What does the 
 former include ? What the latter ? 
 
 10. What is said of these several classifications ? 
 
iOO ELEMENTARY dUTLINS OV" 
 
 11. For the reason, then, that all our susceptibilities 
 are implanted in us for wise purposes, and, unpervert- 
 ed, are designed to subserve useful ends, and from the 
 further consideration that affections, emotions, and pas^ 
 sions, differ only in degree, and are either innocent or 
 hurtful, virtuous or vicious, according to the manner 
 and degree of their exercise, we shall prefer, in this 
 brief treatise, to resort to no specific classification, and 
 shall, therefore, treat of the Affections generally, mean^ 
 ing to include, under that significant term^ those more 
 intense emotionSj, commonly denominated passions. 
 
 12. Of the many susceptibilities which may appro^ 
 priately enough be ranked as affections, we shall notice 
 the following, namely : 
 
 13. Anger is a sudden emotion of the mind, produced 
 by injuries, either real or supposed, received from 
 others. It does not differ, essentially, from Hatreds 
 This difference, however, is to be noticed, namely, 
 Anger is a sudden impulse. Hatfed is anger prolong* 
 ed, and when indulged for a length of time, generally 
 I'esults in feelings of Revenge, 
 
 14. Aihniraiion is excited by great and unconimon 
 qualities in an object. 
 
 15. Pride arises in a feeling of superiority, as ex» 
 isting in ourselves over others, accompanied with a 
 wish to make that superiority felt. When this feeling 
 causes a great display of the supposed superiority to be 
 
 11. Why is it considered preferable in this brief treatise to re- 
 sort to no specific classification ? How, therefore, are the affeC^ 
 tions treated ? What are inchided under that significant term ? 
 
 12. How are the susceptibilities appropriately ranked ? 
 
 13. Define anger ? How does it differ from hatred ? In what 
 feeling does hatred result ? 
 
 1 4. How is admiration excited ? 
 
 15. In what feeling does pride originate ? When is it termed 
 vanity ? A^'hcn arrogance ? 
 
MKNTAL PinLOSOPUY. |^ 
 
 made, it is called VanUij — when it is inordinate in its 
 demands, it is Arrogance — and arrogance coupled with 
 ill-nature, is Insolence, 
 
 16. Benevolence is an affection prompting us to do 
 good to others. 
 
 17. Esteem is the affection we bear to a person 
 whom we regard as having a character possessed of 
 excellence, without taking into the account his ability 
 to bestow benefits upon us, or receive good from us. 
 Uncommon qualities of excellence will heighten esteem 
 into Reverence and Veneration. 
 
 18. Contem-pt stands in opposition to esteem, and 
 arises from our considering an object v/orthless and 
 destitute of merit. Disdain and Scorn are different 
 degrees of contempt. 
 
 19. Hope is a modification of desire. It differs from 
 Desire and Wish in this, namely, it implies some ex- 
 pectation of obtaining the good desired, or the possi- 
 bility of possessing it. Hope, therefore, always gives 
 pleasure or joj-, whereas wish and desire may be ac- 
 companied with, or produce pain and anxiety. 
 
 20. Despair is the absence of hope. 
 
 21. Envy is an uneasiness or discomposure of mind 
 pj'oduced by the superiority or success of another. 
 
 22. Fear painfully affects the mind in view of some 
 apprehended injury or danger. 
 
 2:3. Love is an affection of the mind, excited by 
 
 16. "\^Tiat is benevolence? 
 
 17. What is estcom ? How is it lic-ighteiied into reverence and 
 veneration ? 
 
 18. Wliat is said of contem])t ? Of disdain and .scorn ? 
 
 19. What is hope ? How does it dirler from desire and wish? 
 
 20. What is despair ? 
 
 21. Wliat is envy ? 
 
 22. How is fear produced ? 
 
102 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 beauty or worth of any kind, or by the qualities of an 
 object which communicates pleasure, sensual or intel-^ 
 lectual. Gratitude sesms to be but one of the forms 
 of the general affection of love, and is excited toward 
 a benefactor whom we^esteem, in view of kindnesses 
 or benefits received. 
 
 24. Jealousy is a painful affection of the mind, su- 
 perinduced b}^ a suspicion that one whom we love either 
 has done, or meditates doing us an injury. There are 
 various degrees of jealousy, from watchful distrust to 
 the highest paroxysm. The peculiar characteristic of 
 this affection or passion is, that all its bitterness is be- 
 stowed upon an object of love — and the more ardent 
 the love, the more intense the passion. 
 
 25. No writer probably, in any language, has de- 
 picted the force and power of this peculiar affection, 
 with such painful fidelity to nature, as Shakespeare, 
 in his tragedy of Othello. It may be truly said, that 
 Jealousy " makes the meat it feeds on," for 
 
 '' Trifles, light as air, 
 Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong 
 As proofs of holy writ." 
 
 26. Joy is a pleasing emotion of the mind, excited 
 by the enjoyment or prospect of good. Sorrow is the 
 opposite of joy, and arises in the mind upon the thought 
 of a good lost which might have been longer enjoyed, 
 or by disappointment in the expectation of good. The 
 degrees of Joy may be expressed by the words, glad- 
 
 es. What is love ? What is gratitude ? How is it excited ? 
 
 24. What is jealousy ? What is said of its degrees ? What is 
 its peculiar characteristic? 
 
 25. How does Shakspeare describe it ? 
 
 26. What is joy? What is sorrow? W^hen is it exercised? 
 How are the degrees of joy expressed ? The degrees of sorrow ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. W^ 
 
 ness, mirth or laughter^ exultation, rapture, ecslacy — 
 the degrees of Sorrow, by grief, trouble, anguish, 
 misery. 
 
 27. Sijnqmthy is an affection of the mind which im- 
 plies the exercise of the imagination, by which we 
 transfer ourselves into the situation of others, and thus 
 appreciate and partake of their joys and sorrows, and 
 so regulate our conduct towards them. 
 
 28. Shame is a painful emotion, excited by the con- 
 sciousness of guilt, or the loss of reputation, or by that 
 which offends against modesty. The feeling that other 
 intelligent minds look upon our character and conduct 
 with displeasure and contempt, is what inflicts the keen- 
 est suffering, and there is scarcely anything that man- 
 kind will not sacrifice to avoid this painful emotion. 
 
 CONSCIENXE. 
 
 29. Our disquisition upon the affections would be 
 incomplete, did we not notice that moral susceptibility 
 or affection, denominated Conscience. W e have con- 
 sidered the Desires, as having relation to ourselves; 
 the Affections, as having relation to others. Con- 
 science seems to be a principle of our nature, standing 
 mid-way between the desires and affections, whose of- 
 fice it is to impress the mind with a conviction of what 
 is morally right and wrong, in regard to the regulation 
 of our Desires, and the exercise of our Affections. 
 
 27. What is sympathy ? 
 
 28. What is shame ? What inflicts the keenest suffering ? What 
 will men do to avoid this emotion ? 
 
 29. Wliat would render our disquisition upon the afiections in- 
 complete ? How have the desires and affections been considered ? 
 Wiiat does conscience seem to be 1 What is its office ? Hoiv 
 does it do this 1 What does its due exercise tend to do ? To what 
 
iOl ELEMENTARY OUTLINE CF 
 
 This it does, by its own inherent sense of right, and 
 refers, in its decisions, to no other standard of duty. 
 Its due exercise tends to preserve between the moral 
 susceptibilities, a just and healthful balance towards 
 each other. Its place among the moral, would, there- 
 fore, seem to be analagous to reason among the intel- 
 lectual powers. Viewed in this relation, there seems 
 to be a beautiful harmony pervading the whole econ- 
 omy of the mind. 
 
 30. There has been much dispute about the nature 
 of conscience, or even whether such a principle exists 
 as a distinct element of our mental constitution. With 
 such disputes we shall not meddle. We confine our- 
 selves to the simple fact, that there is a mental exercise 
 or susceptibility, by which we feel certain actions to be 
 right, and others wrong — and experience from its exer- 
 cise pleasure or pain, according as the decision of judg- 
 ment is one of approval or disapproval. The evidence 
 of this fact is entirely within. It is the evidence of con- 
 sciousness. Every man knows within himself, that he 
 feels a pov/er, pointing him, in given cases, to a par- 
 ticular line of conduct, and which administers severe 
 and stinging reproof, when he departs from the way vso 
 designated. Our Creator has thus formed us with a 
 susceptibility of emotions of approbation and disappi^o- 
 bation, to guide us in the discharge of our duties to 
 Him, to our fellows-beings, and to ourselves. 
 
 31. "Without this susceptibility, which we call 
 Conscience, men would feel no regret or compunc- 
 
 is its place among the moral powers analagous ? Viewed in this 
 manner what does there seem to be 1 
 
 30. What disputes have there been ? Declining to meddle with 
 the disputes to what shall we confine ourselves ? Where is the 
 evidence of this fact 1 W'hat evidence is it ? What does every 
 man know ? With what susceptibility has our Creator forined us ? 
 
'-"■ MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 105 
 
 tion, even in disobeying the express commands of God 
 himself. Without this susceptibility it would be all 
 the same, whether they regarded or disregarded the 
 most affecting calls of charity, and of the public good. 
 Without this, benevolent intercourse would cease, re- 
 ligious homage would be at an end, the bonds of so- 
 sciety would be loosened and dissolved. The true 
 source, then, of moral obligation, is in the natural im- 
 pulses of the human breast — in a man's own conscience, 
 it is in this, that we find the origin of the multitude of 
 moral motives, that are continually stirring up men to 
 worthy and exalted enterprises. This is the law which 
 governs them, and as it is inseparable from that nature, 
 of which the Supreme Being is the author, it is the law 
 of God." 
 
 32. This mental movement, which we denominate 
 conscience, is a complex operation of the mind, in part 
 intellective, and in part emotive. It does not belong 
 exclusively to the intellect or to the susceptibility — nor 
 can it be regarded as distinct from either. 
 
 33. By intellection an act of judgment is produced. 
 The Judgment decides whether an action is right or 
 wrong. By its decision emotive action is elicited — the 
 moral susceptibility, or conscience, is awakened into 
 activity, and pleasure or pain is produced, according 
 as the decision of the judgment is one of approval or 
 
 31. Without it how would men feel ? Would they be charitable 
 and public spirited ? Without it would benevolent intercourse 
 continue ? How would it affect religious homage ? And the 
 bonds of society ? Where is the true source of moral obligation? 
 What stirs up men to worthy and exalted enterprises ? Whtrt is 
 said of this law within us ? 
 
 32. How is it described ? To what does it belong ? 
 
 33. What is produced by intellection ? What does the judg. 
 ment decide ? What is said of its decision ? When does con- 
 
106 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 disapproval. When judgment sanctions or condemns 
 the conduct of another, conscience simply approves or 
 disapproves — but when the decisions of judgraen sanc- 
 tion or condemn our own conduct, then the action of 
 jconscience gives us pleasure or pain. 
 
 34. Where the judgment conveys to the mind im- 
 pressions in regard to the qualities and tendencies of 
 actions, conscience approves or disapproves of those 
 actions or tendencies, in reference purely to their moral 
 aspect, without any regard to their consequences. 
 
 35. When the judgment is unperverted, this monitor 
 is an unerring guide. But where the judgment is un- 
 enlightened, or under the influence of wrong early as- 
 sociations, or swayed by sudden and violent passions, 
 then this monitory moral susceptibility of the soul may 
 be blunted or perverted in its exercise. Hence the ex- 
 pression that we sometimes hear used, respecting the 
 conduct of an individual — that he acted from a mis- 
 taken or an unenlightened conscience. 
 
 36. In the case of sudden, violent passion, it is on- 
 ly blunted or suspended, and when the paroxysm passes 
 off, returns to the exercise of its appropriate office, 
 with an increase of vigor which gives poignancy to its 
 keen and just rebuke. 
 
 37. Though blunted or perverted in the savage breast, 
 /or more degraded heathen, yet in them, with compar- 
 
 science approve or disapprove ? When does it give pleasure or 
 pain? 
 
 34. In reference to what does conscience approve or disapprove 
 of actions or tendencies ? Without any regard to what 1 
 
 35. When is conscience an unerring guide ? What is the occa- 
 eion of its being perverted in its exercise 1 Hence what expres- 
 sion is frequently made ? 
 
 36. What effect has sudden passion upon it ? What does it do 
 when passion subsides ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 107 
 
 atively few, if we admit of any exceptions, it may be 
 found, though in a weakened state. For it is an im- 
 planted susceptibility in our nature, depending upon no 
 acquired knowledge for its exercise, nor upon inculca- 
 ted precepts for its guidance, or the character of its 
 action, but exists in native, primitive vigor in the hu- 
 man breast, to warn, admonish and sanction, and he is 
 without excuse, who refrains from yielding to its mo- 
 nitions. 
 
 38. Though deeds of atrocity, owing to peculiar in- 
 fluences of education, are sometimes committed — aged 
 parents put to death, infants sacrificed, &c., &c., with- 
 out compunction ; yet this fact is an exception to the 
 general rule, and as such militates not against it — for 
 it still holds true, that the great mass of mankind, amid 
 all the differences of climate, government and local 
 institutions and observances, pronounce with the most 
 evident uniformity, on the excelle^ e of some actions 
 and the iniquity of others. 
 
 39. The sacred writings themselves confirm the fact, 
 that the ignorant and the rude, the barbarian and the 
 Scythian, without any acquired knowledge, feel within, 
 the action of this condemnatory or excusatory princi- 
 ple, and therefore "are a law unto themselves." The 
 great Apostle of the Gentiles in writing to the Romans 
 said, "For when the Gentiles, which have not the law, 
 do by nature the things contained in the law, these, 
 having not the law, are a law unto themselves: Which 
 
 37. Is conscience to be found in savage and heatiien breasts ? In 
 wliat state is it ? Why is it found in every heart ? Upon what 
 does it not depend ? Who is without excuse ? 
 
 38. What is an exception to the general rule ? Does it militate 
 against it ? What still holds true ? 
 
 39. What do the Scriptures confirm? What does the Great 
 Apostle to the Gentiles say ? 
 
108 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 show the work of the law written in their hearts^ their 
 conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts the 
 meanwhile accusing or else excusing one another. 
 
 40. Increase of knowledge, increases the efficiency 
 of the exercise of conscience. This is what we call 
 an enlightened conscience. Where knowledge exists 
 of the character, will, and attributes of God, and of 
 our relations to him, (and these, his works, and the 
 scriptures unfold) conscience will never be found in 
 opposition to the Almighty, but will infallibly approve 
 what he requires, and disapprove of those things which 
 he forbids and denounces. 
 
 41. Men are responsible for having a perverted con- 
 science, in proportion to the means of knowledge 
 which they possess. All men are bound to live up to 
 the light which they have. This of course is equally 
 as true of heathen as of civilized communities. When 
 men, in neglect of the light within their reach, have 
 perverted, blunted or weakened conscinces, and thus 
 even, as it may be said, conscientiously do wrong and 
 criminal acts, they are not guiltless. The degree of 
 their guilt, of course it is not ours to pronounce. 
 
 42. The savage may kill his aged parents, not only 
 without compunction, but with an internal feeling of 
 approval — so indurated and perverted may his moral 
 susceptibiliy become, by reason of the influences, preju- 
 dices and associations in the midst of which he has liv- 
 ed. But his internal approbation cannot make murder 
 
 40. How is the efficiency ©f conscience increased ? What is 
 this called ? When will conscience never be found in opposition 
 to God ? What will it then do ? 
 
 41. For what are men responsible ? How are all men bound to 
 live ? Of whom is this true 1 When are men not guiltless ? 
 What is it not ours to pronounce ? 
 
 42. Why can the savage kill his aged parents without coropunc- 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 109 
 
 praiseworthy; cannot make wrong right. Guilt at- 
 taches to the crime, for a law of our nature is violated 
 which even the conscience of a savage might, and is, 
 therefore, bound to recognize and respect. 
 
 43. It is the possession of a conscience which ren- 
 ders us accountable beings. Without it, we should not 
 differ essentially from the brutes. It is this affection 
 of the soul, this susceptibility of our moral constitution, 
 that brings us into relationship with God, and with all 
 moral intelligences. 
 
 44. It is an ever present monitor and guide. It 
 abides v/ith us in secret and in public, in solitude and 
 in society, admonishing, warning, approving, acquit- 
 ting, condemning. Its approvals bring pleasure, satis- 
 faction, happiness — its disapprobation, unhappiness, 
 dissatisfaction, misery, remorse. " It truly doubles 
 all our feelings, when they have been such as virtue 
 inspired, and it multiplies them in a much more fear- 
 ful proportion, when they have been of an opposite 
 kind, arresting, as it were, every moment of guilt, 
 which, of itself, would have passed away, as fugitive 
 as our other moments, and suspending them for ever 
 before our eyes in fixed and terrifying reality." 
 
 4-5. Being thus the source of happiness or misery, 
 it will be our companion for weal or for woe forevePv ! 
 
 tion ? Can he feel that he has done right ? Why is guilt attached 
 to the cnme ? What is a savage bound to recognise ? 
 
 43. What renders us accountable beings 1 From what should 
 we not essentially difter without it ? W^here does thia suscepti 
 bility bring us? 
 
 44. What is said of this monitor ? Where does it go with us ? 
 For what purpose ? What is said of its approval and disapproba- 
 tion ? When do^s it double our feelings ? When multiply them 
 in a much more feurx'ul proportion ? 
 
 45. Why does it become us to listen to its warnings ? 
 
 P 
 
110 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 Well then, does it become man to listen to its \^-arn- 
 ings, and reverence its solemn m.onitors. 
 
 46. From tlie foregoing consideration of the Suscep- 
 tibilities of our nature, the importance of a due regula- 
 tion of them must impress itself upon every mind. 
 And this regulation of them should begin in early life, 
 and be pursued with a perseverance that will secure 
 success. On their due regulation, depend peace of 
 mind, prosperity, respectibility — in fine, all that can 
 lend a charm to lite, or give dignity to man. 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 OF THE WILL. 
 
 1. Viewing the mind as departmental, and as being 
 naturally resolved into a three-fold division, p^pd hav- 
 ing considered two of those departments in their order, 
 nameh", the Intellect and the Susceptibility, we come 
 now, in conclusion, to a discussion of the last depart- 
 ment in the regular order of sequence, namely, the 
 Will. Though these departments, as has been already 
 remarked, are necessarily more or less involved with 
 each other, yet, if the expression may be allowed, each 
 has distinct, departmental functions of its own to per- 
 
 46. What must be impressed upon every mind ? When should 
 this regulation of our susceptibilities begin ? How should they 
 be pursued r W'hat depend upon a due regulation of them ? 
 
 Part IV. — 1. Viewing the mind as departmental, what two de- 
 partments have been considered ? What in the regular order of 
 sequence remains to be considered? How are the three depart- 
 m.ents related ? Has each distinct functions 7 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. Ill 
 
 form, and in the performance of them they stand, in a 
 manner, distinct from, and independent of each other. 
 
 2. For example, Intellect purely, in its peculiar and 
 characteristic operations, is governed by laws specifi- 
 cally adapted to the regulation of those operations, and 
 which clearly distinguish its action from the field of 
 operations allotted to the Susceptibilities, and these, in 
 their turn are marked by peculiarities in their action, 
 which specifically distinguish them from other forms 
 of mental movement. The Will, in like manner, 
 stands in its designated field of activity, having its dis- 
 tinct nature, attributes, and appropriate laws, for the 
 regulation of its action, and exercises over the other 
 departments of mind, a supervisory and authoritative 
 office. Our notice of it must necessarily be brief, nei- 
 ther our plan nor our limits requiring or permitting a 
 particular reference to the many voluminous and warm 
 discussions to which a consideration of it has given rise, 
 among Philcsaphers of learning, acuteness, and emi- 
 nence. 
 
 3. Among the writers on this subject, the name of 
 the elder Jonathan Edwards stands forth pre-eminent, 
 and perhaps unrivalled, and no subsequent writer, of 
 any note, has written upon the subject, without making 
 Edwards' celebrated Essay on the Freedom of the 
 Will, to a greater or less extent, the text for his own 
 disquisitions, and for approving or opposing criticism. 
 The great defect in Edwards' mode of treating the sub- 
 ject, is believed to lie in this, namely, that he too much 
 
 2. What is said of the intellect purely ? What of the suscep- 
 tibilities ? What of the will ? To what has a consideration of 
 the will given rise 1 Among whom ? 
 
 3. Whose name stands pre-eminent among the writers on this 
 subject ? What is said of liim and his treatise ? What is believ- 
 ed to be his crreat defect in the mode of treating the subject ? 
 
 p2 
 
112 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 strips man of responsibility, making him the victim of 
 a stern necessity, the passive instrument of an unbend- 
 ing cause • universal causation residing in the Divine 
 will. 
 
 4. Says a writer, " It might have been well if the 
 devout Edwards could have foreseen the consequences 
 that have actually resulted from the mode in which he 
 conducted the argument, for in that case he assuredly 
 would not have allowed to sceptics the opportunity of 
 triumping by his means over faith as v/eii as rea,son. 
 He would, then, instead of abandoning the ground of 
 abstract reasoning as soon as he had achieved the over- 
 throw of the metaphysical error of his opponents, have 
 carried it (and he was able to do so) to its utmost ex- 
 tent, and have so established the responsibility of man, 
 as should have compelled infidels either not to avail 
 themselves at all of his doctrine of universal causation, 
 or to yield to his proof of the reality of religion. Not- 
 withstanding this unhappy and accidental result of his 
 argument, his 'Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will' 
 must long support its reputation, as the product of a 
 great and vigorous intellect, habituated to calm discus- 
 sion, and to profound abstract reasoning, and will con- 
 tinue to be used, as a classic material in the business 
 of intellectual education." 
 
 5. Discussions respecting the will have been much 
 confounded with theologicad opinions, and in this man- 
 ner have often led to theological controversies. It will 
 be our purpose, in this little treatise, as a matter of 
 
 4. What says a writer ? If Edwards had foreseen the conse- 
 quences of his mode of treating the subject, what would he have 
 done ? Notwithstanding this result, what will his '^Inquiry, ifec," 
 long continue to support ? For wiiat will it be used ? 
 
 5. With what have discussions respecting the will been confound 
 ed ? To what have they led ? What will it be our porpose to 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 113 
 
 course, to avoid every thing strictly partaking of school 
 theology, and to view the Will as a part of the mental 
 constitution. In this latter aspect;, it demands, cer- 
 tainly, attention at our hands. In the farther prosecu- 
 tion of our design, we shall proceed to speak (1.) of 
 the Ambiguity of terms used, to denote acts and states 
 of the Will; (2.) of Volitions, Imperative, Immanent, 
 Subordinate, and Predominant; (3.) the Freedom of the 
 Will; and (4.) conclude with some reflections, directed 
 to a consideration of the Value of the Soul, and man's 
 Accountability. 
 
 Cx4APTER I. 
 
 Ambiguity of Terms. 
 
 1. The terms used to denote acts or states of Will 
 are exceedingly various, and are such as Will, Voli- 
 tion, Choice, Preference, Affections, Love, Heart, Dis- 
 position, Desire, Inclination, Propensity, Purpose, «S:c. 
 
 2. Most of these terms are ambigious, and are ap- 
 plied sometimes to the Will and sometimes to the sus- 
 ceptibility. 
 
 3. These terms denote voluntary states, and yet 
 have other significations. A clear definition of them 
 is important that it may be distinctly understood what 
 is, and what is not meant by them. 
 
 avoid in this treatise ? In what res-pcet does the will demand a 
 tendon at our hands ? What is the order adopted for the further 
 c onsideralion of the subject " 
 
 Chaptkr I. — 1. What is said of the terms used ? Name them ? 
 
 2. What is said of most of these terms ? 
 
 3. Wliat do these terms denote ? What else have they ? What 
 is important ? 
 
114 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 4. (1.) WiJl. This is used generally to signify the 
 power which the mind has of willing. This is its 
 primary sense — though it may be used to denote an 
 act or state of will, as when we are said to act accord- 
 ing to the will of another. It may also be used to 
 signify strong constitutional desire. For example, 
 "my necessity, and not my will assents." Assent is 
 in every case voluntary, and, therefore, implies an act 
 of will. To sa}^ we act by the will of another cannot 
 be in strictness true— what we mean by it, simply is, 
 that we have a strong, involuntary feeling arrayed 
 against the voluntary. For example, the Savior said, 
 "not m.y will, but thine be done." In strictness the 
 Savior had no will that the cup should pass away. 
 As far as his will was voluntar}', it harmonized with 
 that of the Father — and his will v/as to endure all. 
 He could not, therefore, in this sense be snid to mean 
 "not my will," &c., &c. The word thus used, refer- 
 red to a constitutional desire to avoid suffering. It 
 was, consequently, an involuntary, rai-^ed against a 
 valuntary state. 
 
 5. (2.) YaUiiGn. This is a scientific term used 
 only by Philosophers, and by them differently applied. 
 It always signifies an act or state of the v^'ill. Som^e 
 apply it only to acts of vv'ill, followed by action — 
 others apply it to all acts of preference. Edwards, 
 
 4. How is the term used in a primary sense ? What may it be 
 used to denote ? What may it also be used to fcignify ? — Give the 
 example? V/hat is said of assent ? What does it imply ? What 
 cannot be in strictness true ? What is meant by it 'I Give the ex- 
 ample ? Vv'hat is said in strictness of the Savior's will ? As far 
 as It was voluntary what is said of it 1 What did the word, as 
 used refer to ? What was it consequently ? 
 
 5. What is said of the term volition ? What docs it signify ? 
 How da some apply it 1 liovv do others ? In what sense do Ed- 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY 115 
 
 and other New England writers apply it in this last 
 sense. Webster gives as a second definition of voli- 
 tion, "the power of willing," a sense in which it does 
 not seem to be often, i^ ever used. 
 
 6. Voluntary denotes sometimes, only " acts of 
 will," and again, "acts dictated by the will," as, for 
 example, when we speak of the act of walking, as a 
 voluntary act. 
 
 7. (3.) Choice. This ordinarily signifies an act of 
 will. For example, "1 did it of choice." But when 
 I say "I did it contrary to choice," the reference is, 
 to strong, involuntary desire. 
 
 8. (4.) Preference. This frequently denotes an 
 act of will, but not always. Mr. Locke says, a man 
 may prefer flying to walking, but who will say he 
 ever wills it. So a man may prefer banishment, to 
 being hung, and not choose either. Thus we may in- 
 dulge a preference betw een two things, while neither 
 of them is an object of choice. 
 
 9. (5.) Affections. Edwards says, "these are no 
 other than the more vigorous and sensible exercise of 
 the inclinations and will of the soul." But we cer- 
 tainly apply this term to joy, sorrow, &c., in which 
 the mind does not choose. The love of God is an af- 
 fection, but it differs from the m.ere constitutional af- 
 fection, namely, admiration, which such a character 
 as His cannot fail to produce. As a holy state, we 
 speak of it as supreme affection, and in this sense it is 
 voluntary, and includes choice — acts of will. 
 
 wards and other Now England vvritars apply it ? What is Web- 
 ster's defjuition ? Is it often used in this sense ? 
 
 6. Wiiat does voluntary denote ? 
 
 7. What does choice signify? Give ihs example? 
 
 o. What does preference denote ? What does 3Ir. Locke say I 
 y. In lefercnce to the aifections what does Edwards say 1 How 
 do we apply the terra I What is said of the love of God ? 
 
110 ELEMENTi^RY OUTLINE OF 
 
 10. (6.) Love. We may love two objects and 
 have DO preference between them — or we may love 
 one object, and not prefer it to another. Such is an 
 involuntary love. It seems to be a species under the 
 last (the affections') and the same distinction may be 
 made. As a voluntary state it denotes the supreme 
 affection, and involves prefei-ence and will 
 
 11. (7.) Heart. This vv^ord is used in the Bible, 
 sometimes to denote the character of a m.' n ; some- 
 times for the seat of the understanding; sometimes 
 for the seat of the afiections, both voluntary and in- 
 voluntary. There is, con equently, much indefmite- 
 ness in its use. It is frequently used for tlie predom- 
 inant volition, or governing purpose, as v\'hen we are 
 commanded to make ns a new heart. 
 
 12. (8.) Disposition. This sigiiifies, primarily an 
 involuntary state of the mind which disposes it to vol- 
 untary acts. For example, "i wc;s cisp.osed to do it, 
 but did not choose to." A secondary signification is 
 a state of the mind as the subject of a governing pur- 
 pose or volition, which also disposes it to other and spe- 
 cific volitions. For example, ''1 did it, because i had 
 a disposition to do it." 
 
 13. (9.) Desire. Mr. Locke afRrms, that a man 
 may will contrary to his desires. This position is re- 
 garded by philosophers as a sound one, though the 
 arg'miient used by Locke to sustain it, v,'as so feebly, 
 
 10. What is said of Love ? What distinction may be made ? 
 What docs it denote and include 1 
 
 11. How is the word heart used in the Bible ? How is it fre- 
 quently used ? 
 
 12. What does Disposition signify primarily ? Give tlie exam- 
 ple ? What is a secondary consideration ? Give ihe example ? 
 
 13. In reference to Desire, what does Mr. Locke atlirm ? How 
 is this position regarded by pliilosophers ? What is said of Mr. 
 Locke's aro;ument to sustain it ? What did Edwards maintain 1 
 
MENTAL I'HlLOSOrnV. 117 
 
 as lo be utterly demolished by Edwards, who main- 
 tained that Will and Desire never run counter. But 
 it is well known that a man may desire what he does 
 not choose to do. Here will and desire conflict. But 
 in the sense of a voluntary state, Desire may mean 
 Will, and in that case, of course the two cannot run 
 counter. But if desire njeana the involuntary state, 
 then in every act of choice, we go contrary to, at 
 at least, one desire, as truly as we go with the other. 
 For example — the desire of safety is an involuntary 
 state. I may choose to hazard my safety foj* the at- 
 tainment of some object. Here the act of choice, — 
 the ITtll, goes counter to the involuntary, constitu- 
 tional desire of safely, as truly as it g )es with the de- 
 sire of attaining some object, for which safety is put 
 in jeopardy. 
 
 14. (10.) Inclinaiion. This term is very similar 
 to Desire. We speak of acting, because we have an 
 inclination to act — and also of acting contrary to our 
 inclmations. In the latteT* case the state is an invol- 
 untary one— in the former it may be either voluntary 
 or involuntary. 
 
 15. (11.) Propensity. This term denotes a vol- 
 untary and an involuntary state. When we speak of 
 our animal propensities, we refer to a part of our na- 
 ture — but when we speak of a man as having "the 
 spirit of a fiend, linked with the propensities of a 
 brute," the language, though figurative, refers to a 
 voluntary state of the mind, involvmg preference and 
 
 What is well known ? In the sense of a voluntary state what 
 may Desire mean '? If Desire means an involuntary state what is 
 said? (live the example ? 
 
 14. What is said of the term Inclination ? 
 
 15. What does the term Propensity denote ? When we speak 
 of our animal propensities to what do we refer 1 When we speak 
 
118 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 choice of sensuality as the greatest good — for such 
 propensities as are not properly and naturally the pro- 
 pensities of a man, cannot become his, except by a 
 voluntary act, his own choice. 
 
 16. (12.) Purpose. This seems to be used only in 
 a voluntary sense. It refers to future, rather than to 
 present action. Or it may be an internal volition, 
 giving birth to many specific volitions. For example^ 
 a man's rurpose to become rich gives rise to specific 
 and overt acts, calculated to accomplish that end. 
 
 17. The foregoing terms, with the exception of 
 Volition and Purpose, are ambigious, and are some- 
 times applied to the Susceptibility and sometimes to 
 the Will. For this reason great care in their use is 
 requisite in order to define clearly and spcifically 
 what is meant by them in order to develop accurately 
 the meaning intended to be conveyed, and thus avoid 
 confusion. 
 
 of a man as having the spirit of a fiend, &c., to what does the 
 language refer ? Involving vvhat? What is said of such propen- 
 sities as are not properly voluntary ? 
 
 16. In what sense is the term Purpose used ? To what does it 
 refer ? To what does it give rise as an internal voliiion ? Give 
 the example ? 
 
 17. What is said of the foregoing terms ? How are they some- 
 times applied ? Why is great care in their use requisite ? 
 
Mental rniLOsopHY. 119 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 Volitions. 
 
 1. Volition signifies an act or state of the will. 
 In the prosecution of our subject we shall consider 
 Volition under the following heads, namely, 1, Imper- 
 ative, 2, Immanent, 3, Suijordinate, and 4, Predomin- 
 ant Volitions. 
 
 2. I. Imperative Volitions. The primary sig- 
 nification of imperoJive^ is commanding. As applied 
 here, it means a state of the will, in which we order 
 some act, bodily or mental. For example, i fix upon 
 wealth as an object desirable to be obtained. The 
 preference of nly mind then is for wealth — this pref- 
 erence, however, is not manifested by any visible, 
 acts, until, by the exercises of an imperative volition^ 
 some act is ordered, in accordance with this prefer- 
 ence, and tending to secure the end preferred. A 
 variety of specific acts are produced as the result of 
 this mental slate — a voyage is undertaken — a journey 
 performed — this particular business is attended to, in 
 order to secure v/eallh, the object of preference upon 
 which the mind has fixed. The delerminntion of the 
 will to perform these specific acts, we call imperative 
 volitions. Were it not for these imperative acts of 
 will, our volitions, as far as outward maniibstations 
 
 Chapter li. — 1. V/hnt doer? volition signify ? Uiidrr \vhat 
 heads, in l!ie prosecution of oar subject, sluiil wc considcir volition? 
 
 2. What is the primary signification of Imperative I As applied 
 to volitions wJiat does it mean ? Give the example ? Wluit aro 
 produced us the result of this mental state ? Were it not for these 
 imperative acts of will, what would be the character of our voli- 
 tions, and the state of our preferences ? 
 
120 ELEMENTAKY OLTLJNK OF 
 
 are concerned, would remain unproductive. Our 
 preferences would be merely immanent. This leads 
 us to consider 
 
 3. II. Immanent Volitions. A priiD'iry signifi- 
 cation of Immanent, is i/ifenia/— -inherent. Immanent 
 Volitions, are those internal acts of choice or prefer- 
 ence, which inhere in the mind — -begin and terminate 
 there. It is simply putting the mmd in a state of 
 preference. There is no volition that exhibits itself 
 in overt action. Yet this is a state of vt^ill, which, 
 in appropriate circuriintances may develop its existence 
 in overt action. '• Whom have I in heaven but thee, 
 and there is nothing on earth that 1 desire beside thee." 
 This imj)jies supi'eme preference for God — is an imma- 
 nent volition— begins and ends in the mind— no act of 
 body or mind is willed— llie state is internal, inherent 
 —involving no overt action. 
 
 4. Bat if some worldly good prom.pts rne to disre- 
 gard my immaneat, supreme preiereiice for God, then 
 i am driven to an act of choice. To obtain the 
 woridl}'' good, I must sacriiice the '' preference "—or, 
 to retain the '^preference." I must sacrifice the worldly 
 (^ood. The ap])ropriate circumstances are now pro- 
 rluced, to develop the exitlenGe of the immanent voli- 
 tion. 1 decide, for example, to reject the iDorldlu good^ 
 and retain the preference. Overt action is thus pro- 
 duced, and 1 ^' do iDorlcs, meet for re^ienlance." The 
 existence of the imirjanent volition is now made man- 
 
 3. V/hat is a primary t^ignicfiaiion oi'Imraanenl ? (Froiiouace(i 
 Jm-;;ifi!-nfnt.) "What are iniiiiyjient volilioiis ? Can the existeiife 
 of this slate of vvili be d. velopetl ? V^'hal passrge of SciipUire is 
 cited ? What does it iisiTily ? What kind of a voliiion is it ? 
 
 4. Slate particularly, and in full, the appropriate drcuiriiitances. 
 which may iserve to develop tfic existezice of an irainaRunt voli- 
 tion by reference to some worldly good ? 
 
Mi;MAL riiiLOfcOi'iiy. i2l 
 
 ilest, and by the act of choice, is no longer an imma- 
 nent, but becomes an Imperative volition. 
 
 5. 111. Subordinate Volitions. In a primary 
 sense, these are inferior in power, to the leading, con- 
 trolling; volitions of the mind, and are made up of 
 certain specific acts, all subordinated or obedient to, 
 the leading purpose of the soul, or predominant Voli- 
 tion of the mind. This leads us to speak in the next 
 place of 
 
 (5. IV. Predominant Volitions. Predominant 
 signifies ascendant^ ruling, controlling. A Predomi- 
 nant Volition is Lhe choice or preference of an object 
 as our chief good. The same idea is conveyed by 
 this term, as by the terms. Disposition, Heart, Gov- 
 erning Principle, Supreme Affection, Ruling passion, 
 6jc. 
 
 7. (1.) Predominant Volition tends to cont'/ol sub- 
 ordinate volitions as intimated above; and so to control 
 all acts as to secure its end. This is its true and 
 steady tendency. If avarice is my ruling passion — 
 my governing purpose, tlien the predominant volition 
 will control all acts calculated to increase my wealth. 
 I f;hali seize upon every opportunity to "get gain," 
 by making bargains, and putting forth other efibrts — 
 shall untiringly study to keep what I have acquired, 
 and acquire what I can. It" at any time I am ibund 
 acting, apparently, not in accordance with this pre- 
 dominant purpose, neglecting ray business &c., &c., 
 it will be found, doubtless, upon careful enquiry, that 
 
 o. What are subordinate volitions, in a primary sense .' 
 ti. What does Predominant signify? What is a Fredoniinant 
 \olition ? WliaL idea is conveyed by this term ? 
 
 7. What is tlie tendency of a Predominant volition? If avarice 
 is a ruling pas.sion, what will be the intluenee of the Predominant 
 volition 1 If I am at any time found acting not in accordance with 
 
122 ELEMENTARY OUtLtNE OF 
 
 the seeming inconsistency does not arise from any 
 relaxation in tiie control of the predominant volition, 
 but, simply, in a deficiency of opportunity, just for the 
 time being, to gratify the ruling passion, and hence, 
 for the moment, I turn aside to enjoy some collateral 
 good — but am ever ready to seize the first occasion, 
 to yield obedience to the ruling passion of my mind« 
 Thus my inconsistency in regard to the main design 
 is only apparent not real, and I am truly a supremely 
 avaricious man — the true, steady and unwavering tend- 
 ency of my predominant volition, being to urge and 
 prompt me, unceasingly to the acquisition of wealth. 
 
 8. (2.) The Predominant Volition influences the 
 intellectual operations and the susceptibility. So con- 
 trolling is its power, that it subjects ever}^ faculty of 
 the mind to its sway, and bends them to its purpose* 
 The movements of the intellect are made to subserve 
 the main purpose — the action of the susceptibilty pro- 
 duces teeling, more or less intense, and more or less 
 pleasing or painful according as there is greater or 
 less success, in gratifying the predominant passion of 
 the soul. It also disposes the mind to other, and nu- 
 merous specific volitions, all subservient to the main 
 design, and subordinated to it. Thus it takes, and 
 leads captive, the whole being — influences the thoughts 
 and feelings of the soul — makes or unmakes the man. 
 
 9. (3.) The predominant Volition of a man deter- 
 mines his character. This needs hardly to be asserted 
 
 my Predominant purpose, Avbatwill probably be found, upon care; 
 ful enquiry 1 Is my inconsistency in this respect^ apparent or real 
 
 fj. What does the Predominant volition influence ? How con- 
 troling is its power ? What is said of the movements of the In- 
 tellect and the action of the susceptibiiily ? How does it dispose 
 the mind ? What is said of the whole being ? 
 
 9. Wliat influence has the Predominant volition upon character'? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. l23 
 
 aller what has already been advanced. It follows of 
 course. Asa man thinketh, or purposeth in his hearty 
 so is he. This is the only standard of any worth by 
 which a man can judge of himself or others. If a 
 man is conscious of a predominant, ruling purpose in 
 his heart to do right, to act upon the law of benevo- 
 lence and lovCj and to do unto others, as he would 
 that others should do unto him, it will be impossible to 
 persuade him that he is a bad man. So also the man 
 who is conscious that the predominant pur])Ose of his 
 mind is of a vicious nature, cannot be persuaded that 
 he is possessed of true excellence of character — in 
 fine, that he is a good man. In judging also of others, 
 and forming our estimate of them, we are obliged to 
 take external conduct as an index of the predominant, 
 reigning purpose of the soul. This it is true, is a 
 fallible standard, and may often lead us astray, in our 
 judgment of others. But it is the best we have. 
 Could we, as can Omniscience, look within the minds 
 of others, and discover their predominant principle of 
 action, we should never take exterior conduct into the 
 account, in forming our judgment of their character 
 — for we should have a far more infallible guide. 
 
 10. (4.) A change in a man's predominant volition 
 is a change of his character. If it be true, that the 
 predominant volition determines or constitutes charac- 
 ter, then there is no difficulty in arriving at the con- 
 
 What is the only standard of any worth by which a man can judge 
 of himself or others ? What can you not persuade a man who is 
 conscious of a predominant purpose to do right ? What can you 
 not persuade a man wlio is conscious that the predominant pur- 
 pose of bis mind is of a vicious nature? In judging of others 
 what must we lake as an index of the ruling purpose ? What is 
 said of this standard? If, Avith an omniscient eye we could look 
 into the mind should we judge by exterior conduct at all ? 
 
 10. What effect does a change in a man's predominant volition 
 
124 ELEMENTARY Ot TLlNE 0^' 
 
 clusioiij that a change of the predominant volition is a 
 change of character. If self has been the cynosure 
 of ail a man's acts, and every thing has been subordi^ 
 nated to the pi-edominant purpose of ministering to self- 
 ish gratification, regardless of the claims or wants of 
 others, a change, to a sentiment of universal benevo- 
 lence, as the predominant volition, the governing pur- 
 pose of the mind, will work an entire and radical 
 change of character. The supremely avaricious man, 
 the inveterate miser, by a change in his predominant 
 purpose, (if such a thing could be,) would lose his 
 avaricious and miserly character, yield to the tender 
 meltings of charity, and become animated, under a 
 different reigning impulse, with sentiments of liber- 
 ality, public s{)irit and general benevolence. So, also, 
 the reckless spendthriit, whose predominant passion is 
 pleasure, may, by a change in his ruling purpose, be-' 
 come an unmitigated miser. This is strikingly illus- 
 trated in the case of the young man spoken of in Fos- 
 ter's Essay on Decision of Character. Possessed of 
 immense estates, pleasure was the god of his idolatry, 
 the ruling purpose of his soul. Nothing w^as spared 
 that could minister to its demands, till in dissipation 
 and luxury he squandered the whole. 
 
 11. In view of his folly and his losses, cast down 
 and dejected, even meditating self-destruction, while 
 one day sitting upon an eminence, which overlooked 
 his lost estates, he suddenly became possessed of the 
 purpose of regaming them, and springing up with a 
 bound, immediately started off! to put his new purpose 
 
 produce ? What is said of a change of the predominant volition 
 from selfishness to benevolence ? Wliat is said of the supremely- 
 avaricious man? What is said of the reckless spendthrift ? By- 
 reference to what case is this illustrated 1 
 11. Repeat the illustration 1 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 125 
 
 into execution. His character, from that instant was 
 radically changed, the translorniation consisting in the 
 change of the predominant passion of his soul. A 
 new purpose rejgned within, as the guiding star of his 
 lite. He was deaf to the calls and invitations of pleas- 
 ure — he forsook his old haunts and his old nssociates 
 — engaged in any and every menial office that pre- 
 sented itself, which afforded the prospect of some gain, 
 however small. The predominant, governing, ruling 
 purpose of his soul, was henceforth the re-acquisition 
 of lost wealth. To this great and sole end, every 
 spccitic act and volition was made to tend. He suc- 
 ceeded. He more than regained his lost wealth and 
 estates, and died an inveterate miser, worth over a 
 quarter of a million of dollars. 
 
 12. If the predominant purpose of a man of the 
 world is changed to a like purpose to serve his Crea- 
 tor, his character is changed — changed even from sin 
 to holiness. 
 
 13. Thus is shown the tendency and the power of 
 the predominant volition, to give rise to, and. control 
 specific, subordinate volitions — to influence intellection 
 and susceptibility — to constitute, and to change the 
 character of mar. 
 
 12. What is said of a change of a predominant purpose of a man 
 of the world ? 
 
 13. From the whole what is shown ? 
 
126 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Freedom of the Will. 
 
 1. Opposite opinions in regard to the operations 
 of the will, have been held by different individuals, of 
 herhaps equal eminence, learning and acuteness, and 
 such contrariety of opinion has led to warm discussion 
 and lengthened controversy. By some, the Liberty of 
 the Will is asserted, and by them it is contended that 
 it acts freeh^, while with equal earnestness of argu- 
 mentation it is held on the other hand that it acts from 
 Necessity. Much of this controversy has, doubtless, 
 originated in the ambiguity of language and terms em- 
 ployed in discussion, and controversialists have, prob- 
 a.bly, not unfrequently, difiered more about words, than 
 real, essential principles of belief, and yet have gone 
 on contradicting each other, and even each contradict- 
 ing himself, involving the controversy in confusion, 
 rather than eliciting any clear light oi* practical truth. 
 On a subject where the brightest intellects have come 
 into collision, it becomes others to express individual 
 opinions with modesty and carefulness ; and yet v/e 
 may assert with coniidence against names, however 
 eminent, truths to v/hich our own consciousness bears 
 testimony, when habituated accurately to scan and take 
 
 Chapter HI. — 1. ^Vhat is said of opposiie opinions in regard to 
 tlie operations of tlie will? What is contended by those who as- 
 sert the Liberty of the will ? What is held with eaqual earjiest- 
 ness on the other band ? In what has much of this controversy 
 originated ? Where the brightest intellects have come in coliif-ion, 
 what is becoming in us ? What maj^ we assert with confidence 
 against names however eminent ? What is said of the testimo- 
 ony, which consciousness bearb' to the Vvill's freedom ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 1'27 
 
 cognizance of the subjects of our consciousness. Tlio 
 testimony Vvhich consciousness bears to the Will's free- 
 dom, can neither be overlooked nor disregarded, nor 
 outweighed by metaphysical disquisitions, however em- 
 inent the reasoner. 
 
 2. The terms Liberty and Necessity in reference to 
 tliis subject, it is thought, have been unfortunately 
 chosen — and yet it may be doubted whether entire 
 freedom from ambiguity could have been secured by 
 the adoption of others. It would neither be profitable, 
 judicious nor in consonance with the objects of this 
 treatise, to encumber its pages with a notice of the va- 
 rious disquisitions, and abstruse and metaphysical dis- 
 tinctions in regard to terms. 
 
 3. Edwards' celebrated " Inquiry concerning the 
 Freedom of the will" — the masterly production of a 
 master mind, has been the instrument of much good, 
 and much mischief also — and afforded a text book, for 
 both theologians and infidels. While the purity of 
 purpose and design of this distinguished author and di- 
 vine cannot be questioned, it is nevertheless to be la- 
 mented that his writings are disfigured with such de- 
 fects as to strengthen the prurient propensities of in- 
 fidelity. 
 
 4. It is by some believed, that the system of Ed- 
 v/ards leads to an absolute and unconditional necessity, 
 particular and general. That it follows from this sys- 
 tem that every volition or event is both necessaiy, and 
 necessarily the best possible in its place and relations. 
 
 2. What is said ol the terms Liberty and necessity ? Could 
 other terms huve been better chosen / Vvliat would not be profil- 
 ablL-, &c.,? 
 
 3. What is said of Edward's celebrated treatise on the freedom 
 of the will ? What is said of the purity of purpose of the author 1 
 What is to be lamented ? 
 
 4. Wimt is believed by some ? What is believed follows from 
 
1'2S ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 That the whole system of things had its origin in infi- 
 nite and necessary v/isdom. All that has been, all that 
 is, all that can be, are connected by an absolute ne- 
 cessity with the same great source. It would be the 
 bight of absurdity to suppose it possible for any thing 
 to be different from what it is, or to suppose that any 
 change could make any thing any better than that it is 
 — for all that is, is by absolute necessity, and all that 
 is, is just what and where infinite wisdom has made it, 
 and disposed of it. 
 
 5. That ii what we call evil, in reality be evil, then 
 it must be both necessary evil, and evil having its origin 
 in infinite wisdom. It is in vain to say that man is 
 the agent, in the common acceptation of the word ; that 
 he is the author, because the particular volitions are 
 his. These volitions are absolutely necessary, and are 
 necessarily carried back to the one great source of all 
 being and events. Hence, the creature, man, cannot 
 be blameable. Every volition v/hich appears in him, 
 appears by an absolute necessity — and it ccnnot be 
 supposed to be otherwise than it is. 
 
 6. On the other hand, Edwards' System is vindicated 
 from such consequences. His vindicators say, that his 
 work is entitled an Inquiry respecting that freedom of 
 will, which is supposed to be essential to moral agency^ 
 virtue and vice, reward and punishment, praise and 
 blame. It has sometimes been thought, by those who 
 opposed him, tliat he has labored hard to m.aintain the 
 
 this system ? That ihe whole system of things had its origin in 
 what? Tiiat all that has been, all that is, &c., are connected 
 with what ? That it would be the height of absurdity to suppose 
 what ? 
 
 5. That if evil, be in reality evil, what must be the consequence? 
 That it is in vain to say what? 
 
 6. On the other hand, from wliat is Edwards' system vindica- 
 ted? What do his vindicators eay ? What has sometimes been 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 129 
 
 dependence of volitions, at the expense of accounta- 
 bility. The truth is, (say those who maintain the 
 general correctness of his views) it is the great object 
 of his work to show, that dependence is consistent with 
 accountability. Many hold to accountability, and 
 thence draw the inference, that our volitions are not 
 dependent, for being 9.s they are, upon any influence 
 from without. Others believe in the dependence of 
 our wills, and therefore deny our accountability. It is 
 contended that it is Edvv-ards' object to maintain both ; 
 to show that one is far from being incompatible with 
 the other. 
 
 7. But we will not linger upon these themes. Our 
 limits confine us to a brief statement of what is meant 
 by Freedom of Will, and to a few considerations, ad- 
 duced as proof of that Freedom. In a former chapter 
 we had occasion to remark, that the mind, in the ex- 
 ercise of its own self-activity originates its own action, 
 without dependence upon any outward influence. It is 
 the mind itself, which thinks, and feels, and Wills. 
 The mind is the author of its own volitions. Nothing 
 from vv'ithout can put volitions into the mind. 
 
 8. Outward influences, it is true, may operate upon 
 the mind, and produce action. But such influences 
 are only the occasion, not the efficient cause, of the 
 mind's action. The efficient cause of action resides 
 
 thought by those who approve him ? What is said to be the truth 
 by those who maintain the correctness of his views ? To what 
 do many hold ? What inference do they draw from thence ? What 
 do others believe and deny? What is contended? 
 
 7. To what do our limits confine us ? "What was remarked in 
 a former chapter ? What is it that wills ? Of what is the mind 
 the author? Can anything from without put volitions into the 
 mind ? 
 
 8. Can outward influences operate upon the mind ? What is 
 said of such influences ? Where does the efficient cause of action 
 
130 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 in the mind itself. It has an impulsive power of its 
 own. Unless this be so, there is no freedom of will, 
 nor, indeed, any will at all. If volition is produced, 
 not by the action of the mind itself, but only as it is 
 acted upon, by something out of itself, v/e must yield 
 up all to an absolute necessity. 
 
 9. In the fact that the mind is the originator of its 
 own. volitions, and in that alone, consists its freedom. 
 On the other hand, the view which some take, that the 
 mind is incapable of acting, except as it is acted upon, 
 involves fatalis?n and all its consequences. 
 
 10. " The fatalist maintains that a man's destiny is 
 decided entirely and only by his constitution and his 
 circumstances, both of which God determines. The 
 defender of free agency brings in God and man as co- 
 workers in deciding man's destiny. God decides what 
 shall be the constitutional susceptibilities and their re- 
 lative proportions, and his agency regulates the cir- 
 cumstances of temptation. 
 
 11. But man can, also, to a great degree, control 
 circumstances. He can by his volitions decide many 
 of his future circum.stances, while at the same time he 
 can, to a certain extent, modify his susceptibilities. 
 And at all times he can choose or refuse any kind of 
 good that is put within his reach. 
 
 reside? What power has it? Without this power, what would 
 be the consequence ? To what does the doctrine lead that voli- 
 tion is not produced by the action of the mind itself, but only as 
 it is acted upon ? 
 
 9. In what fact consists the mind's freedom ? What does the 
 opposite view, taken by some involve ? 
 
 10. What does the fatalist maintain ? What is the doctrine of 
 the defender of free agency ? What does God decide ? What 
 does he regulate ? 
 
 11. What can man also control ? What by his volitions can he 
 decide and modify ? What can he at all times do ? 
 
'^'"^ MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 131 
 
 12. God always has the power to prevent any given 
 volition by a change of circumstances, — man is able 
 to prevent any given volition by the power oi' free 
 agency. Thus nothing that depends on man's voli- 
 tions can take place contrary to God's will, and yet 
 man always retains the power of takingor refusing any 
 mode of enjoyment within his reach. Man never can 
 say he could not have chosen otherwise." 
 
 13. A distinction is to be marked between freedom 
 of will, and freedom of external action. The mind, in 
 the exercise of its self-activity, originates and puts forth 
 its volitions. In this action the will is free. W hen 
 the volitions, thus made, are executed, their execution 
 involves freedom of external action. When, there- 
 fore, the question is about the freedom of man, it is ne- 
 cessary to enquire, freedom in what respect. Wheth- 
 er freedom in zcillhig or freedom in acting — freedom 
 in putting forth, or in excuting volitions. 
 
 14. I will to walk, and the act of walking follows. 
 This illustrates both freedom in willing and freedom 
 of external action. The putting forth of the volition 
 is one thing, — the execution of the volition another. 
 The external act, if we may so speak, is but the ser- 
 vant of the volition. When we v/ill to walk, the act 
 of walking follows the volition necessarily, unless 
 prevented by external restraint or physical inability. 
 
 12. How can God prevent any given volition ? How ean man? 
 Can any thing that depends on man's vohlion take place contrary 
 to God's will ? Yet what does man always retain ? What cannot 
 man say ? 
 
 13. What distinction is (o be observed? In what action is the 
 will free ? What does the execulion of volitions involve ? When 
 the question is about the freedom of man what is i» necessary to 
 inquire ? 
 
 14. Illustrate both kinds of freedom by the instance of walk- 
 ing ? What is the external act called? When we will to walk, 
 
I 
 
 132 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 When the act of walking takes place, it illustrates 
 freedom of external action, in distinction from that 
 freedom of will or volition, which, as a cause produces 
 the action of walking as an effect. 
 
 What we mean by the Freedom of the Will, may 
 now be briefly stated. 
 
 15. I. By freedom of the Will we mean, that in- 
 herent, original power which the mind has, indepen- 
 dent of any extraneous influence, of deciding to do, or 
 not to do a given act, — of choosing or refusing either 
 of several objects of choice, — involving in every act 
 of choice, power to the contrary,— power to have made 
 a different, or a contrary election. 
 
 16. II. In proof of the correctness of our definition 
 of the mmd's freedom, we will appeal to conscious- 
 ness, and the unperverted common-sense decisions of 
 mankind. 
 
 IT. (1.) We are conscious that our minds are free 
 to choose or to refuse, — and that in any given act of 
 choice we could have chosen otherwise — in fine, that 
 in every act of choice, there is power to the contrary. 
 An intelligent attention to one's own consciousness, 
 will afford abundant conviction of the correctness of 
 this position. 
 
 18. (2.) The unperverted, common-sense decision 
 of mankind goes to establish it. Men cannot be made 
 to believe that they are obliged to choose as they do, 
 or that they have not power to choose otherwise. 
 Their words and their actions prove this. They 
 
 what alone will prevent the action of walking from following ? 
 When the action of walking takes place what does it illustrate ? 
 
 15. Define now fully what we mean by the freedom of the will? 
 
 16. What appeal is made in proof of the correctness of this def- 
 inion r" 
 
 17. Of what are we conscious ? 
 
 18. What further goes to establish the truth of our definition of 
 
MKNTAL PHILOSOPHY- 133 
 
 blame wrong conduct, and approve and commend 
 right action. 
 
 19. They attach accountability to human conduct, 
 and enact laws, and establish courts of Justice to pun- 
 ish the guilty. Would they thus act, if they believed 
 that mankind did not originate their own volitions — 
 if they believed they were the victims of a stern ne- 
 cessity, and obliged to do, and choose as they do, with 
 no power to the contrary ?■ Would they treat as they 
 do, those who wrong and injure them, and attach 
 blame to them, and censure and condemn their con- 
 duct ? 
 
 20. If a man strike us, we blame him — if we are struck 
 by a falling stick of timber, we do not blame it. Why 
 is this 1 It is the unperverted decision of common 
 sense, that the man who struck, had power to the con- 
 trary, and that the falling timber had no such power. 
 
 21. If it be true that human actions are not the off- 
 spring of the independent, self-originated volitions of 
 the mind, but that the mind, so far from being self- 
 active, is only an instrument, which acts, as it is acted 
 upon, by outward, propelling impulses, then responsi- 
 bility cannot attach to human conduct : and it would 
 be as absurd to punish a man for any of his actions, 
 as it would be to arraign, try, convict, sentence and 
 punish for murder the inanimate, falling timber which 
 had crushed a man to death. 
 
 freedom of the will? What cannot men be made to believe? 
 What proves this ? 
 
 19. What do they attach to human conduct 1 What do they es- 
 tablish ? Wliy? What inference in regard to their belief is drawa 
 from this fact? 
 
 20. If a man strike us or if we are struck by a stick of timber, 
 why do we blame the man and not the stick? 
 
 21. If it be true that the mind is not self-active but acts only a« 
 it is acted upon, what folbwe? What absurdity would punish- 
 ment involve? 
 
 a 
 
134 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 22. The unperverted decision of mankind sanctions 
 this view of the subject — a decision, which, in a case 
 of this kind, affords a safe criterion to abide by. 
 
 23. Is it to be supposed that tlieir minds are per- 
 verted, when it is for the interest of wicked men to 
 decide differently, if a different decision could be made, 
 and thus escape the responsibility, guilt and condem- 
 nation which attach to freedom as opposed to neces- 
 sity ? 
 
 24. When men's minds are perverted, and then 
 only can they, or do they decide differently, in which 
 case their decisions are, of course, entitled to no reli- 
 ance. 
 
 25. Human actions can be accounted for on no 
 other supposition, than that of the mind's freedom, as 
 we have attempted to define and illustrate it. 
 
 26. Upon this appeal, which we have now made to 
 consciousness, and the unperverted, common sense 
 decision of mankind, we may safely leave the point 
 as established, that man is a free, and, therefore, a 
 responsible agent. 
 
 27. Let it always be borne in mind, that in every 
 act of choice, there is poiver to the contrary^ — and that 
 this fact is established by the testimony of conscious- 
 ness, and the intuitive, common-sense conviction of 
 mankind, and much confusion of mind, and difficulty 
 
 22. Explain what the view of the subject is which the unper- 
 verted decision of mankind sanctions 1 What does this decision 
 afford? 
 
 23. What reason have we to suppose that their minds are not 
 perverted in making such decision ? 
 
 24. W^hen only, can or do men decide differently ? 
 
 25. On what supposition alone, can human conduct be accoun- 
 ted for ? 
 
 26. What point does this appeal to consciousness and the un- 
 perverted common sense of mankind establish ? 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 135 
 
 in regard to the subject of the Freedom of the Will, 
 may be avoided. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Conclusion. 
 
 1. The subject which has now passed in review be- 
 fore us, if rightly considered, cannot fail to impress us 
 with both the value of the soul and its accountahility. 
 As an appropriate conclusion, therefore, of our labors, 
 we shall urge a few practical considerations, designed 
 to enforce these two particulars, viz : 
 
 I. The Value of the Soul. 
 II. Its Accountability. 
 
 2. I. Its value is incalculable. Finite conception 
 cannot comprehend it. The utmost stretch of the hu- 
 man faculties is incompetent to measure the soul's 
 capacity, in its ever-enlarging dimensions, for the en- 
 joyment of blessedness, or the endurance of woe. 
 
 3. Is there a world of despair to be shunned, a 
 heaven of blessedness to be attained ? If the soul's 
 value cannot be computed by unending pangs — and it 
 would seem that no small conception of its worth can 
 
 i>7. What should always be borne in mind ? And what further 
 should be observed ? What may thus be avoided \ 
 
 Chapter IV. — 1. With vihat is the subject matter of this trea- 
 tise calculated to impress us 1 What two particulars are next to 
 be considered ? 
 
 2. W^hat is said of the value of the soul 1 What is incompetent 
 to measure its capacity for happiness or misery? 
 
 3. What important inquiry is made 1 Can we obtain any con- 
 ception of the value of the soul by contemplating its undying suf- 
 
 o2 
 
IdO ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OP 
 
 be derived from such a contemplation — its worth may- 
 yet be vividly inferred from other considerations. And 
 
 4. (1.) A glimpse of its value may be derived, by 
 contemplating the value of Heaven — the residence of 
 God. If Heaven is valuable, all that pertains to it is 
 valuable. If Heaven only is peculiarly adapted to de- 
 velop the glorious energies of the undying soul, then its 
 value can only be estimated by the value of Heaven. 
 What less than an infinite intelligence can make the 
 full and proper estimate. 
 
 5. The vast conception, but pains and fatigues the 
 finite mind, and leaves it still unsatisfied. 
 
 *' Go wing ihy flight from star to star, 
 From world to luminous world, as far 
 
 As the universe spreads its flaming wall; 
 Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, 
 And multiply each through endless years, 
 
 One minute of heaven is worth them all." 
 
 6. (2.) The soul is of priceless value, as it is im- 
 mortal. Some idea of its value may be entertained, 
 therefore, by contemplating its eternal existence. Both 
 Nature and Revelation teach the fact, that the soul 
 cannot die. An undying existence is one that admits 
 of no comparison in the computation of value. Im- 
 mortality ! what is it ? The finite mind staggers under 
 
 ferings 1 Are there other considerations from which we may in- 
 fer its value ? 
 
 4. What is the first ? What is valuable ? What is heaven pe- 
 culiarly calculated to develop ? Then how can the soul's value be 
 estimated ? Who only can make the proper estimate ? 
 
 5. How does the vast conception affect the finite mind 1 How 
 does the poet estimate heaven ? 
 
 6. Why is the soul of priceless value ? What idea may be ob- 
 tained by reflecting upon its eternal existence ? What do Nature 
 and Revelation teach ? Of what does an undying existence not 
 admit ? How does the thought of immortality affect the mind? 
 
SIENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 137 
 
 the immense thought. Nothing short of the faculties 
 of an infinite intelligence, can, by this standard, esti- 
 mate the soul's worth. Its existence runs "parallel 
 with the existence of God." What mines of unfath- 
 omable, incalculable value are implied in this expres- 
 sion. 
 
 7. (3.) God makes nothing in vain. Every thing 
 that comes from his hand has a useful design, and is 
 possessed of both an intrinsic and relative value. Every 
 work of God having its value, that must be intrinsically 
 and relatively unrivalled in value, which stands, in the 
 wonderful vrorks of creation, the acknowledged head 
 and superior of all. 
 
 8. (4.) That v/hich stands related to God, not only 
 co-equal in the duration, or immortality of its future 
 existence, but fashioned in His image, differing noth- 
 ing in kind in spiritual energy, can be second in im- 
 portance and value, only to Infinity itself. 
 
 9. (5.) The mind is awakened to a consciousness 
 of its own inherent value by its horror of annihilation, 
 and its longings and thirstings after immortality. God 
 himself, has set tiie signet of matchless worth upon 
 it, by implanting witliin it, as a part of its origmal 
 structure, the hope, expectation and desire of immor- 
 tality. That principle was not implanted within us, 
 
 IIoAV long sjiull the soul exist ? What is implied in this expres- 
 &ion ? 
 
 7. What is said of the works of God ? Of what value is every- 
 thing possessed ? Of what value then is he possessed who stands 
 the acknowledged head and superior of all? 
 
 8. What is second only in importance and value to infinity f 
 Why is man ? 
 
 9. How can the mind be aroused to a consciousness of its value? 
 How has God set the signet of matchless worth upon it ? Why 
 was this principle iniplantod in the mind? What is said of the 
 mind's expeclaTion ? What will be determined in its realisation ? 
 
138 ELEMENTARY OUTLINE OF 
 
 to mock us, but to dignify, ennoble and exalt the soul 
 as an intellectual, spiritual existence. This expecta- 
 tion, this elevating aspiration, is to be realized, and in 
 its realization inheres the supreme value of the soul. 
 
 10. Such being the worth of the undying mind, how 
 does it become man to reverence himself, to respect 
 the dignity of his nature and his destiny, nor abuse 
 the noTjle faculties with which he is endowed. Form- 
 ed with susceptibilities for the enjoyment of happiness 
 — for happiness in kind like that, v/hich swells angel- 
 ic breasts — nay more, formed v/ith an aptitude for the 
 same kind of happiness, which goes to make up the 
 felicity of God, how does it behoove man to take care 
 of his soul, to reach forth after those glories that lie 
 in higher and more enduring scenes, nor grovel en- 
 tirely, with limited, earth-bound views, amid the per- 
 ishable and perishing objects of the present fleeting 
 life. 
 
 11. II. Thus viewing the priceless value of that 
 Vi'onderful existence of which man is the conscious 
 possessor, he should feel, and well consider, his ac- 
 countability to the great and benevolent Author of 
 that existence. A full conviction of accountability to 
 God, seated in the breasts of all men, would at once 
 change the aspect of the whole world. 
 
 12. If the mind — the soul — is such as we have de- 
 scribed it, a self-active, spiritual existence, the origi- 
 nator of its own acts, the determiner of its own 
 
 10. Why should man reverence liiraself ? For what happiness 
 is raan susceptible ? Then what becomes hira ? Where should 
 he not grovel ? 
 
 11. In consideration of the priceless value of the soul what 
 should he feel and consider? If all men realized their accounta- 
 bility what would be the result? 
 
 12. Why is man accountable for his actions ? Wliat is said of 
 
JVIENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 139 
 
 choices, then is it involved in deep responsibility and 
 accoLUitable for its acts. For wrong action it is blame- 
 v/orthy, for right action, entitled to approval. By a 
 law of its own constitution, it approves or censures its 
 own right or wrong conduct. It' our conscience con- 
 demn us, hov/ much greater must be the condemnation 
 of Him who cannot view sinful conduct with compla- 
 cency or allowance. "If our heart condemn us, God 
 is greater than our heart and knoweth all things." 
 
 13. Man is a free moral agent, and as such the 
 rightful subject of law. But law alone does not cre- 
 ate his obligations. If the law had never been pro- 
 claimed on Sinai, still man would have been responsi- 
 ble and accountable for his conduct; for responsibility 
 inheres in the very constitution of his nature — and the 
 mind cannot act without an innate consciousness of 
 desert, or ill-desert — without rewarding or punishing 
 itself, according to the character of its own action. 
 
 14. Man is made in the image of God — his mind 
 bears a resemblance to the Divine mind. Out of its 
 relations to its great Author spring its obligations. 
 God's commands do not make a thing right; but Ho 
 commands it because it is right. The will of God, in 
 whatever way made known to us, is an infallible cri- 
 terion of absolute rectitude. The soul in the exer- 
 cise of its freeness, in the energy of its own self-ac- 
 
 right, and wrong actions ? What is said of a law of itsown con- 
 stitution ? What is this law which condemns, and reproves, or 
 approves ? Who is greater \]ian our lieart ? 
 
 13. Why is man a rightful subject of law ? Does a knowledge 
 of it create obligations ? ' Wliy not ? TIow^ is the mind aiilected 
 by this internal consciousness of riglit and wrong? 
 
 14. In whose image is man made? From whence spring his 
 obligations ? What is said of God's commands ? What is a cri- 
 terion of absolute rectitude ? Why is the soul bound to pursue a 
 right course of conduct whether there is a specilic command or not? 
 
140 KLEME-NTABY OUTLINE OF 
 
 fivity, as the originator of its own course of action, is 
 bound to pursue a right course of conduct, whether 
 the particular thing itself has been the subject of a 
 specific command, or not. 
 
 15. Accountability, it must be seen, attaches to rnan 
 from the self-active, self-determining power of his own 
 mind. Reason and Scripture, tlierefore, both attest to 
 man's accountability. " So then every one of us 
 shall give account of him.self to God." Rom. xiv. 12. 
 
 16. It is then of most essential consequence, in 
 order to be prepared to meet that account, that the in- 
 tellect be rightly trained, cultivated and directed, that 
 the susceptibilities be under appropriate control, and 
 that the decisions of the will bo unpervened,^ 
 
 17. That which greatly enhances the importance 
 of the subject of our future being, is the aptitude or 
 capacity of our mental constitution, for happiness or 
 misery. And that which gives to its consideration 
 an importance so great and momentous, is the tact, 
 that happiness or misery in the life which is to come 
 depends upon our action in this probationary world. 
 
 18. To secure happiness here, or hereafter, all the 
 faculties of the mind must be kept in due subjection, 
 and must be properly ordered and regulated. The 
 claims of duty must not be disregarded. Duty must 
 be discharged as duty. The feeling of obligation 
 must be the motive. Self must be subdued, when it 
 
 15. Why does accountability attach to man? What attest the 
 fact of man's accountability 1 Repeat the scripture quoted '.' 
 
 IG. What is of essential consequence in order to be prepared to 
 meet that account? 
 
 17. What greatly enhances the importance of the subjeci of our 
 future being ? What renders the consideration so momentous ? 
 
 18. How shall happiness be secured ? What must not be dis- 
 regarded? What must be the motive? When must self be denicjd^ 
 Whot will be the reward 7 
 
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 141 
 
 comes in competition with duty. These things being 
 thus done, happiness, the purest that mortals can know, 
 will be the reward. 
 
 19. When we come to love that which is right with 
 a pure love, fervently, for its own sake, we shall be 
 nearer akin to heaven than _earth. Our Thoughts, 
 Feelings and Will, will all be conspiring together in 
 a course of right action, and we may vvell hope to 
 meet our final account with joy and not with grief, 
 through Him who has loved us and given himself for 
 us — and to drink in of the fullness and blessedness of 
 God forever — to be transferred to that purely spiritual 
 realm, where intellect, sanctified and holy, will go 
 on brightening and enlarging, increasing in vigor, 
 strength and power, while the immense, incomprehen- 
 sible cycles of eternity shall run their ceaseless, end- 
 less rounds, without the possibility of finding a limit 
 — forever learning, and yet never full. 
 
 .19. What effect will be produced by loving right action ? How 
 shall we meet our final account? Whose merits will bring us this 
 reward? What shall we drink iji ? In what condition will the 
 mind be in that spiritual and holy place 1 How long shall it be 
 
 g3 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 GENERAL RE3IAIIKS--IRREGULAII AND DISORDSRED 
 MENTAL ACTION. 
 
 1. Having gone through with our general plan, and 
 given a succinct, elementary outline of Mental Philos- 
 ophy, we proceed to the statement of a few particulars 
 of interest and importance, involving irregular and dis- 
 ordered mental action. We are indebted for a share 
 of the material for this appendix to Dr. Abercrombie's 
 excellent treatise, from which, as well as from several 
 other sources, we have freely drawn such portions as 
 seemed suited to our purpose. 
 
 2. Irregular mental action, exhibits itself in a vari* 
 ety of ways, and in forms not inconsistent with general 
 soundness and healthiness of intellect ; such irregular- 
 ities constituting rather what we term eccentricity of 
 individual character, than reaching that degree of dis- 
 ordered mental action denominated insanity. We have 
 already given, in the chapter on Abstraction, in the 
 former part of this work, several examples of eccen- 
 tricity, or. unusual, or irregular mental action, which 
 seem to consist with the highest degree of intellectual 
 strength and vigor. We will here proceed to give a 
 few more illustrations of still greater irregularity of 
 
 1. What particulars of importance will now claim our attention? 
 
 2. May irregular mental action consist with soundness of intel- 
 lect? "Wliat do such irregularities constitute ? Where can illus- 
 trations be found of eccentricity, co-existing with vigor of intellect? 
 Can still greater irregularity be found, and yet fall below the 
 point termed Insanity ? 
 
APPENDIX. 143 
 
 mental action, and yet falling below what writers clas- 
 sify as cases of imbecility, or insanity. 
 
 3. The first example is from Bruyere's Manners of 
 the Age, as quoted by Professor Upham, and is as fol- 
 lows : " Menalcas (the character is supposed to have 
 been drawn from life, viz : the Count de Brancas) goes 
 down stairs, opens the door to go out, shuts it. He 
 perceives that his nightcap is still on ; and, examining 
 himself a little better, finds but one half of his face 
 shaved, his sword on his right side, and his stockings 
 hanging over his heels. If he v/alks into the street, 
 he feels something strike on his face or stomach. He 
 can't imagine what it is, till waking and opening his 
 eyes, he sees himself by a cart'.vhGcl. or under a join- 
 er's penthouse, with the coffins about his ears. One 
 time you might have seen hira run against a blind man, 
 push him backward, and afterward fall over him. 
 Sometimes lie happens to come up, forehead to fore- 
 head, with a prince, and obstructs his passage. With 
 much ado he recollects himself, and has but just time to 
 squeeze himself close to a wall to make room for him. 
 He seeks quarrels and brawls, puts himself into a heat, 
 calls to his servants, and tells them, one after another, 
 every thing is lost or out of the way, and demands his 
 gloves, which he has on his hands ; like the woman, 
 who asked for her mask v/hen she had it on her 
 face. He enters an apartment, passes under a sconce, 
 on which his periwig hitches, and is left lianging. 
 The courtiers look on him and laugh. Menalcas 
 laughs too, louder than any of them,, and turns his eyes 
 round the company to see the rnan who shows his ears 
 and has lost his wig. He says yes commonly, instead 
 of NO ; and when he says no, you must suppose he 
 would say yes. When he answers you, })erhaps his 
 
 ;-;. Whit ia tliciirst el eg 
 
144 APPENDIX. 
 
 eyes are fixed on yours, but it does not follow that he 
 sees you, nor any one else nor anything in the world.- 
 All that you can draw from him, when he is most so- 
 ciable, are some such words as these : Yes, indeed, 'tis 
 true, good, all the better, sincerely, I believe so, cer- 
 tainly, ah, ok, heaven, and some other monosyllables, 
 which are not spoken in the right place neither. He 
 never is among those whom he appears to be with. 
 He calls his footman very seriously 8ir, and his friend 
 Robin. He says your Reverence to a prince of the 
 blood, and your Highness to a Jesuit. When he is at 
 mass, if the priest sneezes, he cries out ^ God bless you;'' 
 He is in company with a judge, grave by his charac- 
 ter, and venerable by his age and dignity, who asks 
 him if such a thing is so. Meiialcas replies, ' Yes. 
 Madam.'' As he came up once from the country, his 
 footmen attempted to rob him and succeeded. They 
 jumped down from behind the coach, presented the end 
 of a flambeau to his throat, demanded his purse, and 
 he delivered it to them. Being come home, he told 
 the adventure to his friends, who asked him the cn*cum- 
 stances, and he referred them to his servaiUs. 'In- 
 quire of ray men,' said he, 'they were there,' " 
 
 4. Another example is tha.t of the Rev. George, 
 Harvest, one'ol the ministers of Thames Ditton, a man 
 of singular ability and of extensive learning, and a 
 deep nieiaphysician. He was a lover of good eating, 
 almost to giuttoiiy ; and was further remarkable as a 
 great tlsherman ; very negligent in his dress, and a be- 
 liever in ghosts. In Ins youth he v/as contracted to a 
 daughter of tlie Bisho]) of London ; but on his wedding 
 day, being gudgeon fishing, he overstaid the canonical 
 hour; and the lady, justly offended at his neglect, broke 
 oti'the match. He had at that time an estate of three 
 
APPENDIX. 145 
 
 hundred pounds per annum, but, from inattention an.d 
 absence, suffered his servcints to run him in debt so 
 much, that it was soon spent. It is said, that his maid 
 trequently gave balls to her triends and iellow-servants 
 of the neighborhood, and persuaded her master that the 
 noise he heard was the effect of wind. In the latter 
 part of his life no one would lend or let him a horse, 
 as he frequently lost his beast from under him, or at 
 least out of his hands, it being his practice to dismount 
 and lead his horse, putting the bridle under his arm, 
 which the horse sometimes shook otf, and sometimes it 
 was taken off by the boys, and the parson was seen 
 drawing his bridle after him. Sometimes he would 
 purchase a penny's worth of shrimps, and put them 
 into his waistcoat pocket, among tobacco, worms, gen- 
 tles for fishing, and other trumpery; tliese he often 
 carried about him till they were so offensive as to make 
 his pr-Jsence almost insufferable. I once saw a melange 
 tvuTied out of his pocket by the dowager lady Pembroke. 
 Such was his absence and distraction, that he frequently 
 used to forget the prayer days, and to walk into his 
 church with his gun, to see what could have assembled 
 the people there. In company he never put tlie bottle 
 round, but always filled when it stood opposite to him; 
 vso that he very often took a half dozen glasses running. 
 That he alone was drunk, and the rest of the company 
 sober, is not, therefore, to be wondered at. One day 
 Mr. Harvest, being in a punt on the river Thames 
 with Mr. Ostow, began to read a beautiful passage in 
 some Greek author, and, throwing himself backwards 
 in au ecstacy, fell into the water, whence he was with 
 difficulty fished out. Once being to preach before thn 
 clergy at the Visitation, he ha,d three sermons in his 
 pocket : some wags got possession of them, mixed the 
 leaves, and sewed them all up as one. Mr. Harvest 
 began his sermon, and soon lo&t the thread of his dis- 
 
146 Ap^ENDtXi 
 
 course and got confused ; but nevertheless continued, till 
 he had preached out first all the church-wardens, and 
 llext the clergy, who thought he was taken mad. 
 
 5. It will be seen that there are various modifica^ 
 tions of mental irregularity, not reaching to insanity, 
 in the ordinary acceptation of the term^ aud yet such 
 as greatly impair the usefulness, ana happiness, influ- 
 ence and respectability of the individual; Such per- 
 sons are called odd, eccentric^ visionary, &c., and are 
 to be found, in cases more or less marked, in every 
 community. It is highl}?- proper to take notice of such 
 phenomena, in investigating the principles and quali^ 
 ties of mental action. 
 
 6. The mental phenomena exhibited in dreams, 
 partake of irregular, or disordered characteristics^ 
 and are, therefore, proper to be treated of in consid^ 
 ering the disordered and irregular operations of the 
 mind. Some philosophical writers regard dreaming 
 as a healthy process, of a sound mind, and designed to 
 give tone, variety and recreation to mental activity. Dr. 
 Rush, however, advances the opinion that "a dream 
 may be considered as a transient paroxysm of deliri- 
 um, and delirium as a permanent dream. It differs 
 from madness in not being attended with muscular 
 action." But not to anticipate here, what is properly 
 referable to other heads, Vv'-e shall proceed to notice in 
 their order, in successive sections, 1. Dreaming, 2. 
 Somnambulism, 3. Insanity, 4. Spectral Illusions. 
 
 5. What will be seen? Does it impair the usefulness, &c., of 
 
 an individual ? What are such persons called? Where found ? 
 
 G. Why are dreams proper to be treated of? IIow do some 
 
 ^philosophical v.'riters regard dreaming? .What is Dr. Rush's 
 
 opinion ? What topics are now to be noticed in their order ? 
 
AppENDiXi 14T 
 
 SECTION L 
 
 DREAMING. 
 
 " While sleep oppresses the tired limbs, the mi.nd 
 Plays without weight, and wantons unconfined." 
 
 1. Dreams are instances of that activity of the hu- 
 man mind, which is natural to it, and which it is not 
 in the power of sleep to deaden or abate. When a 
 man appears tired and worn out with the labors of the 
 day, this active part in his composition is still often 
 busied and unwearied. When the organs of sense 
 want their due repose, and the body is no longer able 
 to keep pace with the spiritual substance to which it 
 is united, the mind exerts i!self in its several faculties, 
 and continues in action till its companion, the body, is 
 again qualified for action. 
 
 2. In this case, dreams look like the relaxations and 
 amusements of the soul, when she is disencumbered of 
 her machine — her sports and recreations when she lias 
 laid her charge asleep. 
 
 3. Dreams, also, afford an evidence of the activity 
 and perfection which are natural to the faculties of the 
 mind when in a measure disengaged from the entan- 
 glements of the body. The mind is clogged and re- 
 tarded in its operations, when it acts in conjunction 
 with a companion which is so heavy and unwieldly in 
 its motions. But in dreams it is wonderful to observe 
 
 Skction I. — 1. What are dreams instances of? W^hen a man 
 appears tired and worn out with labor, what is said ? When the 
 organs of sense want their due repose, what is said ? 
 
 2. In tliis case what do dreams look like ? 
 
 3. Of what do dreams afibrd an evidence ? What is said of the 
 mind when it acts in conjunction with the body? In dreams 
 
148 APPENDIX, 
 
 with what sprightliness and alacrity the mind exerts 
 itself. The slow of speech make unpremeditated har- 
 rangues, or converse readily in languages with which 
 they are but little acquainted. The grave abound in 
 pleasantries^ the dull in repartees and points of wit. 
 
 4. We may also observe, that the passions affect 
 the mind with greater strength when we are asleep, 
 than when we are awake. Joy and sorrow give us 
 more vigorous sensations of pleasure and pain, at this 
 time, than at any other. Devotion also, is in a very 
 particular manner heightened and inflamed, when it 
 rises in the soul at the time when the body is thus laid 
 at rest. Every man's experience will afford him in- 
 formation in this matter, though it is very likely, this 
 may happen differently in different constitutions. 
 
 5. An ingenious and agreeable writer has proposed 
 two problems, suggested by the consideration that the 
 passions affect the mind with greater force in our 
 sleeping than in our waking moments. They are as 
 follows : Supposing a man always happy in his dreams 
 and miserable in his v/aking thoughts, and that his life 
 were equally divided between them, whether would he 
 be more happ;/ or miserable ? Again : Were a man a 
 king in his dreams, and a beggar awake, and dreamed 
 as consequentially, and in as unbroken schemes as he 
 thinks when awake, wheiher be would be in reality, a 
 king or a beggar, or rather, whether he would not be 
 both. The solution is left for the reader. 
 
 6. Dreams are mental states or operations when we 
 are asleep. They present various curious mental 
 
 what is wonderful to observe ? How are different temperaments 
 affected ? 
 
 4. What may we also observe ? What is said of Joy and Sor- 
 row ? What of devotion ? Wiiat of every m.an's experience ? 
 
 5. What has an ingenious writer proposed ? By what sugges- 
 ted ? State the two particulars in question. 
 
APPENDIX. 149 
 
 phenomena, which it is difficuh. and. indeed, impossi- 
 ble satistactorily to explain. Dreams have alwas ex- 
 cited a gi'eat deal of interest, even in men of profound 
 minds, and our Philosopher, Dr. Franklin, did not 
 think it beneath him to write a treatise on "The Art 
 of procuring pleasant Dreams." A great deal of su- 
 perstition has always been connected with dreams. 
 This is true novv', among the ignorant and uninformed 
 — but as we travel back into antiquity, we shall fmd it 
 true to a still greater extent — supernatural and pro- 
 phetic intimations having been very generally con- 
 nected with dreaming — and this too, by men of emi- 
 nence and distinction, of philosophic casts of mind, 
 and of otlierwise sound and enlightened views. Ex- 
 travagant and superstitious notions in regard to dreams 
 greatly prevailed among the Romans, and even the 
 emperor Augustus vvas deeplj/ affected by them, and 
 carefully noted the season of the yen,v m hen his dreams 
 were most unfavorable. 
 
 7. So mucli interest has been excited in regard to 
 our intellectual operations in our sleeping moments, 
 in consequence of the wild and extravagant notions to 
 wliich those operations have given rise, that an in- 
 quiry into the subject has not been thought unbecom- 
 ing in those who have written upon mental science — 
 and es])ecially is such an inquiry not only justified, 
 but seems to be actually called for, when we consider 
 that a large and no inconsiderable portion of our in- 
 
 6. Wh.1t arc dreams ? What do they present ? What have 
 dreams always excited ? What is said of Dr. Franklin ? What 
 is said of superstition ? Is this true now ? What shall we find 
 as we travel b.iek into an?iquity ? What is said of the Romans ? 
 What of the Emperor i-\ngnstus ? 
 
 7. Why has an enquiry into the subject of dreams net been 
 thought unbecoming by those who have written on mental science? 
 A^'hy i"^ &unh an enquiry especially justified ? 
 
150 APPENDIX. 
 
 tellectual operations and experiences must be referred 
 to dreams — and all the actual knowledge which we 
 are able to gain of dreams, is so mnch added to our 
 stock of knowledge in regard to the principles and op- 
 erations of the mind in general. 
 
 8. The universal prevalence of dreams is one rea- 
 son probably why so great an interest is excited in 
 reference to them. And yet, though there are not 
 raan}^ natural appearances more familiar to us than 
 dreaming, there are few which we less understand. 
 It is a remark of Dr. Beattie, that dreaming is an op- 
 eration of the mind, of which we can hardly say 
 whether or not it be subservient, either to action or to 
 knowledge. 
 
 9. But we may be assured, observes the same 
 writer, that dreams are not without their uses, though 
 we should never be able to discover them. The an- 
 cients entertained peculiar notions in regard to the im- 
 mediate cause of dreaming. Epicurus, for example, fan- 
 cied, than an infinite multitude of subtle images, some 
 flowing from bodies, some formed in the air of their 
 own accord, and others made up of different things 
 variously combined, are alwa3^s moving up and down 
 around us ; and that these images, being of extreme 
 fineness, penetrate our bodies, and striking upon the 
 mind, give rise to that mode of perception which we 
 call im.agination, and to which he refers the origin both 
 of our dreams, and of our thoughts when we are awake. 
 
 10. Aristotle seems to think, that every object of 
 sense, makes upon the human soul, or some other part 
 
 8. What is a reason why so great an interest is excited in dreams? 
 Do we well understand these natural appearances ? What is a 
 remark of Dr. Beattie ? 
 
 9. Of what may we be assured, according to the same writer ? 
 What is said of tlie ancients, and of Epicurus for example ? 
 
APPENDIX. 151 
 
 of our frame, a certain impression which remains for 
 some time after the object that made it is gone, and 
 which, being afterwards recognized by the mind in 
 sleep, gives rise to those visionary images that then 
 present themselves. These opinions seem to amount 
 to nothing that can be distinctly understood. If, how- 
 ever, they convey any distinct idea at all, it would ap- 
 pear to be that of ascribing to human thought a sort of 
 material or bodily nature, v/hich is perfectly incon- 
 ceivable. These things are recorded, as specimens of 
 the crude, fanciful, and absurd notions, which have, at 
 different times obtained in regard to dreams. 
 
 11. Dreaming, though common, does not seem to 
 be universal among mankind. Locke tells us of a 
 person of his acquaintance, who never dreamed till 
 the twenty-sixlh year of his age, when he happened to 
 have a fever, and then dreamed for the first time in his 
 life. Plutarch mentions one Cleon, his friend, who 
 lived to be old, and never once dreamed in his life. 
 Dr. Beattie knew a gentleman, who never dreamed 
 except when his health was disordered. Aristotle ob- 
 serves that those who never dream till they have ar- 
 rived at manhood, are generally liable, soon after the 
 first incident of the kind, to some change in the bodi- 
 ly constitution, tending either to sickness or to death. 
 Dreams, under such circumstances unquestionably are 
 produced by excited action, caused by the incipient 
 stages of a disease, which has fastened upon the sys- 
 tem, and is slowly developing itself. It is generally 
 
 10. What does Aristotle think ? Why arc these things recor- 
 ded ? 
 
 11. Is dreaming universal ? AVhat does Locke tell us? What 
 does Plutarch mention ? What does Dr. Beatlie relate 1 "What 
 does Aristotle observe ? Under such circumstances by Avhat are 
 dreams produced 1 What is generally acknowledged ? 
 
152 .UPEND! X. 
 
 acknowledged, that some people are not often con 
 scions of dreaming, while on tiie other hand there are 
 many others, who always dream when they sleep. 
 
 12. Those philosophers who maintain that the soul 
 thinks always, will have it, that in sleep we dream 
 always, and that, if we ever imagine otherwise, it is 
 because we forget our dreams. Locke combats this 
 idea, and asks, •' Hov/ knows any one that the soul al- 
 ways thinks ? — for if it be not a self evident proposi- 
 tion, it needs proof. If I think, when I know it not, 
 no one else can know it." It would seem, that the 
 position, that in sleep we always dream cannot be sat- 
 isfactorily maintained. As already observed, it may 
 therefore be alledged, that dreaming though common 
 is not universal. This is alledged, however, simply 
 as a fact, without any attempt to account for it, far- 
 ther than that some conceive that dreaming is not prob- 
 ably equally necessary to all constitutions. Dr. Beat- 
 tie observes, that dreams give to human thoughts a 
 variety, which may be useful to some minds as an 
 amusement, but not to all, or at least, not to all in an 
 equal degree. x\s some bodies require less food and 
 
 12. What is said of those Philosophers who mainlain that 
 the soul thinks always? How does Locke combat this idea? 
 What does Dr. Dwight say of Locke's reasoning on this subject? 
 Arts. He says it is fallacious. A man may walk in his sleep wiih- 
 out knowing it ; and another man may see him walking, and doing 
 other things which involve thought, and thus ascertain to a cer- 
 tainty that the sleeper thinks, while he himself is ignorant of it. 
 Of this there are many prooi's, and several illustrations are given 
 in the Section on Somnambulism. Upon the whole, what does 
 Dr. Dwight say ? An.-j. That he does not know that the soul al- 
 ways thinks — though for some reasons, he thinks it probable, but, 
 as remarked, he thinks Locke's arguments to prove that the mind 
 does not always think are very fallacious. What, according to 
 Locke's reasoning may be alledged ? How is this alledged ? What 
 poe3 Dr. Eeatlie observe ? 
 
APPENDIX. 153 
 
 less sleep than others, so some minds may have more, 
 and others less need of dreams as a recreation. 
 
 13. After hinting that dreams may be of use in the 
 way of physical admonition, the same writer suggests, 
 that they may be serviceable, as a means of moral 
 improvement. He properly refrains, how^ever, from 
 affirming as some have done, that by them, we may 
 make a more accurate discovery of our temper and 
 prevailing passions, than by observing what passes in 
 our minds when awake. For in sleep we are very 
 incompetent judges of ourselves, and of everything 
 else ; and one will dream of committing crimes with 
 little remorse, which, if awake, he could not think of 
 without horror. It is very possible, by carefully 
 attending to what passes in our sleep, we may some- 
 times discover what passions are predominant, and so 
 receive good hints for the regulation of them. 
 
 14. For example, a man dreams that he is in vio- 
 lent anger, and strikes a blow which kills a person. 
 He awakes in horror at the thought of what he has 
 done, and of the punishment he thinks he has reason 
 to apprehend ; and while, after a moment's recollec- 
 tion, he rejoices to find that it is but a dream, he will 
 also be inclined to form some wholesome resolutions 
 against the indulgence of violent anger, unless it 
 should, in some unguarded moment hurry him on to 
 the actual perpetration of an act of the like nature. 
 If this advantage even, is ever derived from dreams we 
 cannot pronource them useless. 
 
 13. After hinting that dreams may be of use in the way of phys- 
 ical admonition what does Dr. Beattie further say ? What does 
 he properly refrain from affirming 1 What is possible by carefully 
 attending to what passes in our sleep ? 
 
 14. What example is given for illustration ? What will he be 
 inclined to form ? Can dreams then be said to be useless ? 
 
154 APPENDIX. 
 
 15. Dr. Beattie dwells with much enthusiasm upon 
 the recital of an alledged dream, in the Tatler, from 
 the pen of Addison, as conveying, in his estimation 
 the finest moral conceivable. The Tatler, says he, 
 was once in the agonies of unutterable grief, and in 
 so great a distraction of mind, that he thought himself 
 even out of the possibility of receiving comiort. The 
 occasion was as follows : He was, when in youth in a 
 part of the army stationed at Dover, and upon a calm 
 evening was amusing himself with a friend, on the top 
 of a cliff, with a prospect of the sea which stretched 
 out before them. In a frolicsome mood the friend 
 suddenly ran towards the precipice, when instantly, 
 though at some distance from the edge, the ground 
 sunk beneath, and plunged the friend from such a pro- 
 digious bight, upon such a ledge of rocks, as would 
 have dashed the body into ten thousand pieces, had it 
 been made of adamant." " It is much easier," con- 
 tinues the narrative, " for the reader to imagine my 
 state of mind, upon such an occasion, than for me to 
 express it. I said to myself, it is not in the power of 
 heaven to relieve me — when I awoke equally trans- 
 ported and astonished, to see myself drawn out of an 
 affliction, which, the very moment before, appeared 
 altogether inextricable." 
 
 16. " I might enlarge on the beauty of this narra- 
 tive," says Dr. Beattie, " but I mean only to recom- 
 mend, to the serious consideration of the reader, the 
 important lesson implied in it. What fable of Esop, 
 nay of Homer, or of Virgil, conveys so fine a moral ! 
 Yet most people have, I am sure I have, met with 
 
 15. What does Dr. Beattie dwell oh with enthusiasm ? In his 
 estimation what does it convey ? What does the Tatler say ? 
 
 16. Repeat in substance Dr. Beattie's reflections on the forego- 
 ing. 
 
APPENDIX. 155 
 
 such deliverances by means of a dream. And such 
 deliverance will every good man meet at last, when 
 he is taken away from the evils of life, and awakes in 
 the regions of everlasting peace and light, looking back 
 upon the world and its troubles, with a surprise and a 
 satisfaction, similar in kind, though far higher in de- 
 gree, to that which we now feel, when we escape 
 from a terrifying dream, and open our eyes upon the 
 sweet serenity of a summer morning. Let us not 
 despise instruction, how mean soever the vehicle may 
 be that brings it. Even if it be a dream, we may 
 learn to profit by it. For whether asleep or awake we 
 are equally the care of providence, and neither a dream 
 nor a waking thought, can occur to us, without the 
 permission of him, '^ in whom we live and move and 
 have our being." 
 
 17. In dreams, we mistake our thoughts for real 
 things. While the dream lasts, it appears a reality, 
 at least it generally does ; but the moment we awake, 
 we are conscious that the whole was imaginary, and 
 that our waking perceptions, and they only, are real, 
 and such as may be depended upon. 
 
 18. Though some of our dreams are very extraor- 
 dinary, others are more regular, and not unlike real 
 life. When the mind is at ease, and the body in 
 health, we often dream of our ordinary business. The 
 passions, too, that occupy the mind when awake, and 
 the objects and causes of these passions, are apt to recur 
 in sleep, though for the most part under some dis- 
 guise, accompanied with painful circumstances, when 
 
 17. In dreams what do we mistake ? While the dream lasts 
 how does it appear ? The moment we awake how is it ? 
 
 18. Though some dreams are extraordinary, how is it with oth- 
 ers ? When the mind is at ease, and the body in health, of what 
 do we often dream ? What is said of the passions ? 
 
156 Ai'PExXDIX. 
 
 we are in trouble, and with more pleasing ideas when 
 we are happy. 
 
 19. Some of our dreams bear no resemblance to hnj 
 thing that ever before occurred to our senses or our 
 fancy. But this is not so common except in bad 
 health. It holds true in general, that dreams are an 
 imitation, though often a very extravagant one, of 
 reality. Certain dreams, for the most part, accompa- 
 ny certain positions and states of the body. When 
 our breathing is in any way interrupted, by the head 
 falling awry, or by the bed clothes pressing on the 
 mouth and nostrils, or by any internal disorder, we 
 are apt to dream of going, with great uneasiness, 
 through narrow passages, where we are in danger of 
 suffocation. Aristotle observes, that in sleep, a weak 
 impression made on &n organ of sense, may make a 
 dream of a strong impression ; and that a strong im- 
 pression may make a dream of a weak one. A slight 
 warmth in the feet, if in any degree greater than or- 
 dinary, will sometimes cause us to dream of walking 
 on burning coals, and the striking of a clock heard in 
 sleep, will seem fainter, than if we had heard it at the 
 same distance when awake. 
 
 20. Here then we discover one source of the great 
 variety of dreams, namely, that they are intimately 
 connected with our bodily sensations, and are often 
 caused by them. And it can hardly be doubted, if the 
 thing were accurately attended to, that many particular 
 dreams might be accounted for, from impressions made 
 
 19. To what do some dreams bear no resemblance ? la this 
 common ? What holds true in general ? What do certain dreams 
 accompany? When our breathing is interrupted how is it ? What 
 does Aristotle observe ? What will a slight warmth in the feet, 
 if greater than ordinary, produce ? How will the striking of a 
 elock seem ? 
 
APPENDIX. 157 
 
 in sleep upon our organs of sense, particularly those of 
 touch and hearing. A slight hint suggested from 
 without, or in any way suggested, is sufficient for fancy 
 to work upon, in producing multitudes of visionary 
 exhibitions, causing those mental states which we de- 
 nominate dreaming. 
 
 21. Dr. Abercrombie relates an incident which is 
 an evidence that dreams are produced by bodily sensa- 
 tions — namely, that Dr. Gregory, who, on the occa- 
 sion of some indisposition, applied a bottle of hot 
 water to his feet on going to bed. The result was he 
 dreamed of walking upon the crater of Mt. Etna, and 
 of feeling the ground warm under his feet. In early 
 lite Dr. Gregory had visited Mt. Vesuvius, and in. 
 walking up the side of its crater, had actually felt a 
 sensation of warmth in his feet. It is a little singular, 
 perhaps, that the dream was of Etna, not Vesuvius, 
 as the former he had never visited. On another occa- 
 sion, Dr. Gregory dreamed of spending a winter at 
 Hudson's Bay, and of suffering intensely from the 
 frost. On awaking, he found he had thrown oft' the 
 bed clothes in his sleep. A few days before he had 
 been reading an account of the colonies in that region, 
 during the winter. 
 
 22. Another incident is related of a gentleman and 
 his wife in Edinburgli, who had a dream nearly ident- 
 ical and in the same instant of time. It was at a time 
 when there was an alarm prevailing in consequence 
 of a threatened French invasion, and the city had been 
 
 20. What do we here discover? What can hardly be doubted? 
 For what is a slight hint from without sufficient ? 
 
 21. What incident does Dr. Abercrombie relate as an evidence 
 that dreams are produced by bodily sensations ? 
 
 22. What incident is related of a gentleman and bia wife ? What 
 dosfl Dr. Reid relate of hiraeslf 7 
 
 R 
 
158 APPENDIX. 
 
 put in a state of defense. The gentleman dreamed 
 that the signal gun had been given, and that the city 
 was filled with noise and bustle, the movements o( 
 soldiers, and all the confusion incident upon so sudden 
 an alarm. His wife awoke in a iright in consequence 
 of a similar dream. The cause of this dream, was as- 
 certained in the morning to be, the noise produced by 
 the falling of a pair of tongs in the room above. Dr. 
 Reid relates of himself, that the dressing applied after 
 a, blister on his head, becoming ruffled, so as to pro- 
 duce uneasiness, he dreamed of falling into the hands 
 of savages, and of being scalped by them. 
 
 23. There are several remarkable cases on record, 
 of dreams produced in particular individuals, by whis- 
 pering in their ears. In a manuscript of Dr. Gregory's 
 which fell into the hands of Dr. Abercrombie, an in- 
 stance of this kind is related, which seems to be per- 
 fecily authentic. Dr. Gregory received the particulars 
 from a gentleman who witnessed them. The individ- 
 ual referred to, was an officer in the army. His com- 
 panions v/ere in the habit of amusing themselves at his 
 expense, as they could produce in him any dream they 
 pleased, by whispering in his ear, especially if this was 
 done by a friend with whose voice he was familiar. 
 At ow: time they carried him through all the stages of a 
 quarrel, vvhich resulted in a duel, and when the parties 
 were supposed to have met, a pitt:>l was put into his 
 hand, the report of wh;ch awoke him. On another 
 occasion, on board of a ship, they found him asleep on 
 the top of a locker in the cabin, when they made him 
 believe he had fallen overboard, and exhorted him to 
 save himself by swimming. He immediately imitated 
 all the motions of swimming. They then told him he 
 
 23. What remarkable cases are on record ? Relate the anecdote 
 of the officer in the army. 
 
APPENDIX. W9 
 
 was pursued by a shirk, and advised him to dive for 
 his lire. He dia S3 with so much torce, as to throw 
 himself entirely ofF from the locker on to the cabin 
 floor by which he was much bruised. On another oc- 
 casion they found him asleep in his tent, evidently 
 much annoyed by the cannonading which was taking 
 place. They immediately made him believe they were 
 engaged in battle, when he expressed great fear, and 
 showed an evident disposition to run away. Against this 
 they remonstrated, but increased his fears by imitating 
 the groans of the wounded anj the dying; and when he 
 asked, as he frequently did, who was down, they named 
 his particular friends. At last they told him the man 
 in the line next to himself had fallen, when he instantly 
 sprung from his bed, rushed out of the tent, and tum- 
 bling over the tent ropes, was at once aroused from his 
 dream, and rescued from his danger. A remarkable 
 fact is, that after these experiments, he had no distinct 
 recollection of his dreams, but only a confused feeling 
 of oppression or fatigue, and used to tell his friends he 
 was sure they had been playing some trick upon him. 
 24. Another fact worthy of notice, is our singular 
 estimate of time, in dreaming. Events and occur- 
 rences, whose performance would require days or 
 weeks, are dreamt in a i'ew moments of time — and, 
 indeed, the same noise that awakes a person, frequently 
 produces a dream, which seems to occupy considerable 
 time. The following example of this, was related to 
 Dr. Abercrombie. A gentleman dreamed that he had 
 enlisted as a soldier, joined his regiment, deserted, was 
 apprehended, carried back, tried, condemned to be shot, 
 
 24. What other fact is worthy of notice ? What is said of oc- 
 currencps whose performance would require days and weeks ? 
 What example is reh^ted by Dr. Abercrombie ? What example 
 does the writer of this treatise give 7 
 
 k2 
 
160 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 and at last led out for execution. After all the usual 
 preparations a gun was fired. He awoke with the re- 
 port, and found that a noise in the adjoining room had 
 both produced the dream and awakened him. The 
 writer of this Treatise, being employed upon the work 
 one evening, his little son, about six years old, hap- 
 pened to occupy the opposite side of the table. Pres- 
 ently sleep began to overpower him, but before he had 
 subsided into sound slumber, for the purpose of experi- 
 ment, the writer gave the table a sharp rap, and at the 
 same instant pronounced the name of the child. He 
 instantly awoke, in an affright. On being questioned 
 as to the cause of his terror, he said, that he dreamed 
 he had gone to bed, and after having been in bed 
 awhile, a black bear emerged from the back side of 
 his bed in a growling mood, and was seizing upon him, 
 when he awoke. The dream was truly a childish one, 
 but it illustrates the point, as the noise both awoke him 
 and produced the dream, which seemed to him to have 
 occupied considerable time. The merriment which 
 succeeded the relation of the dream, and the explana- 
 tion of the cause, amply compensated him for the fright 
 that the little experiment of which he was the subject 
 caused him. 
 
 25. A fact which arrests our attention in regard to 
 dreams, is the intimate relation which they bear to our 
 waking thoughts. Our waking thoughts are more or 
 less marshalled into trains of association, and these 
 trains of associated thoughts continue in our sleep with 
 greater or less regularity. Questions which often 
 much perplex individuals when awake, are frequently 
 unfolded to them when asleep. Dr. Franklin alledges 
 
 25. What factin regard to dreams, arrests onr attention ? What 
 18 said of our waking thoughts ? What is said of questions which 
 perplex individuals when awake ? What does Dr. Franklin al» 
 
APPENDIX. t^l 
 
 this often times to have been the case with him. Mr. 
 Coleridge relates, that as he was once reading in the 
 Pilgrimage of Purchas, an account of the palace and 
 garden ol Khan Kubla, he fell asleep, and in a dream 
 composed a poem of not less than two hundred lines. 
 A portion of it he afterwards wrote down. One verse 
 is as follows : 
 
 " In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 
 A stately pleasure-dome decree; 
 Where Alph, the sacred river, ran 
 Through caverns measureless to man, 
 Down to a sunless sea." 
 
 The remark already made, that dreams are imitations 
 of reality, is verified by dreams of this description. 
 The experience of nearly every one, probably, goes to 
 confirm the fact, that our waking thoughts to a great 
 extent furnish the materials of our dreams; our dreams 
 in most cases, being but a continuation of our waking 
 trains of association, imperfect it is true, and often ex- 
 aggerated and extravagant. 
 
 26. There can be no doubt, that many dreams take 
 place which are not remembered, as appears from the 
 fact of a person talking in his sleep, so as to be dis- 
 tinctly understood, without remembering any thing of 
 the impression which gave rise to it. It is probable, 
 also, that the dreams which are the most distinctly re- 
 membered, are those which occur during imperfect 
 sleep, or when the sleep begins to be broken by an ap- 
 proach towards waking. 
 
 27. Tiiere is another peculiarity about dreams, 
 
 ledge ^ What does Mr. Coleridge relate ? What do dreams of 
 this description verify ? What does the experience of nearly ev- 
 ery one go to confirm ? 
 20. Of what can there be no doubt ? What is also probable ? 
 
162 APPENDIX. 
 
 narrjely, the person dreaming is sometimes impressed 
 with the belief, that he is dream.ing. This takes place, 
 probably, in quite imperfect sleep, or when the indi- 
 vidual is in an immediate approach to waking, when 
 his judgment, and reasoning powers seem to have some 
 efficienc3^ A case of this kind is related by Dr. Beat- 
 tie of himself. He says, "I dreamjed once that I was 
 walking upon the parapet of a high bridge. How I 
 came there I did not know, but recollecting that I had 
 never been given to pranks of that nature, I began to 
 think it might be a dream, and finding ray situation un- 
 easy, and desirous of getting rid of so troublesome an 
 idea, I threv/ myself headlong, in the belief, that the 
 shock of the fall would restore my senses, w^hich hap- 
 pened accordingly." In the same manner. Dr. Reid 
 cured himself of a tendency to frightful dreams, with 
 which he had been annoyed from his early years. He 
 endeavored to fix strongly on his mind, the impression, 
 that all such dangers in dreams are but imaginary, and 
 determined, whenever, in a dream, he found himself 
 on the brink of a precipice, to throw himself over, and 
 so dissipate the vision. By persevering in this method, 
 he so removed the propensity, that for forty years he 
 was never sensible of dreaming. 
 
 28. The mind's power over its volitions is greatly, 
 if not entirely suspended in our dreams, and this may 
 in a great degree account for the wildness, irregular- 
 ity, and extravagance of our dreams, though they 
 should be, in ftict, a continuation of our waking trains 
 of associated thoughts. 
 
 27. What IS another peculiarity about dreams ? When does 
 this take place ? What does Dr. Beattie relate of himself? What- 
 is said of Dr. Reid ? 
 
 28. What 13 said of the mind's power over its volitions in 
 dreams ? For what may this account? 
 
APPENDIX. 163 
 
 29. In sleep, the powers of the mind are not only 
 arrested in their ordin:iry operations, but the bodily 
 senses partake of the general suspension. Medical 
 writers state the iact, and the proois to sustain it, that 
 the senses sleep, and that they go to sleep individually 
 in succession. The impressions upon the sight, are 
 first withdrawn, owing to the protection afforded by the 
 eyelids, and hence this sense is regarded as the first in 
 falling to sleep. Taste follows next, and smell, hear- 
 ing, and touch, in the order named. These writers 
 suppose, also, that the senses sleep with different de- 
 grees of soundness — taste and smell awake last, the 
 sight not as easily as hearing, and touch with less dif- 
 ficulty than any of the rest. 
 
 3 J. Some deny the utility of dreams, while others — 
 as Dr. Beattie, already cited on this point — affirm it; 
 contending that nature does nothing in vain. In 
 our present state of knowledge upon the subject, (for 
 our information is very limited) we ought not probably 
 to be very positive in the assertion of their inutility. 
 That particular individuals have derived benefit from 
 them, in the solution of difficult questions, we have ai- 
 re idy stated. The rules by which some pretend to in 
 terpret dreams, are too ridiculous to be mentioned. 
 They are indeed such, as may make almost any dream 
 prophetic of any event. If a dream and a subsequent 
 occurrence be tiie same or similar, then they believe 
 that the dream foretold it; if totally different, and even 
 
 23. What is said of the powers of the mind and the horUiy sen- 
 ses in sleep ? What do Medicil writers state ? In wiuu order of 
 succession do the senses go to sleep ? >Vhat do these writers also 
 suppose ? 
 
 3). What do some deny and others affirm ? In the present state 
 of our knowledge, of ulj-it ought we not to be very posiiive ? 
 What is said of the rules by v\hich some pretend to interpret 
 dreams ? What is said of an occasional coincidence between a 
 
164 APPENDIX. 
 
 contrary, they still believe the dream foretold it. That 
 there may occasionally be a coincidence of a dream 
 with a future event, is nothing more than may be rea- 
 sonably expected from the revolution of chances. It 
 would indeed be wonderful, considering the variety of 
 our thoughts in sleep, and that they bear so much anal- 
 ogy^ to the affairs of life, if this did never happen. 
 But there is nothing more extraordinary in it, than that 
 an idiot should sometimes speak to the purpose, or an 
 irregular clock once or twice in a year point to the 
 right hour. The same coincidence of a reality with a 
 previous imagination, is observable when we are awake; 
 as when a friend whom we did not expect, happens to 
 come in view the very moment we are thinking or 
 speaking of him — a thing so common, that it is often 
 expressed by a proverb. When we have an uncom- 
 mon dream, we ought not to look forward with appre- 
 hension, as if it were the forerunner of calamity, but 
 rather backward, to see if v/e can trace out its cause, 
 and also see whether we may, or may not, from such 
 discovery, learn something that may be profitable to 
 us. Dr. Abercrombie remarks, in reference to dream- 
 ing, " that the subject is not only curious but impor- 
 tant." It appears to be worthy of careful investigation, 
 and there is much reason to believe, that an extensive 
 collection of authentic facts, caiefully analyzed, would 
 unfold principles of very great interest in reference to 
 the philosophy of the mental powers. 
 
 dream and a future event 1 What is said of the same coincidence 
 of a reality with a previous imagination vvhen awake ? When 
 we have an uncommon dream ought we to look forward with ap- 
 prehension ? Rather, what should we do ? What does Dr. Aber 
 crombie remark "? 
 
APPENDIX. 165 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 S0Mi\AMBULIS3I. 
 
 1. So.MNAMBULisM appears to differ from dreaming 
 chiefly in the degree in which the bodily functions are 
 affected. The mind is fixed in the same manner as in 
 dreaming upon its own impressions, as possessing a 
 real and present existence in external things, but the 
 bodily organs are more under the control of the will, 
 60 that the individual acts under the influence of his 
 erroneous conceptions, and holds conversation in re- 
 gard to them. He is also, to a certain degree suscep- 
 tible of impressions from without through his organs 
 of sense, not, however, so as to correct his erroneous 
 impressions, but rather to be mixed up with them. 
 
 2. The first degree of Somnambulism, generally 
 shows itself by a propensity to talk during sleep, the 
 person giving a full and connected account of what 
 passes before him in dreams, and often revealing his 
 own secrets or those of his friends. Walking during 
 sleep is the next degree, and that from which the affec- 
 tion derives its name. The phenomena connected with 
 this form, are familiar to every one. The individual 
 gets out of be;l, dresses himself, if not prevented goes 
 out of doors, walks frequently over dangerous places 
 in safety, sometimes escapes by a window and gets to 
 the roof of a house, after a considerable interval returns 
 
 Section' II.— 1. In what does Somnambulism chiefly differ from 
 dreaming 1 How is the mind fixed ? What is said of the bodily 
 organs ? 
 
 2. How does the first degree of Somnambulism generally show 
 itself? What is the next degree ? What docs the individual do ? 
 II 3 
 
168 APPENDIX. 
 
 and goes to bed, and all that has passed conveys to his 
 mind merely the impressions of a dream. 
 
 3. Dr. Hartley, in his "observations upon Man" re- 
 marks, that "Those who walk and talk in their sleep, 
 have evidently the nerves of the muscles concerned, so 
 free, as that vibrations, [or nervous influence,] can de- 
 scend from the internal parts of the brain, the peculiar 
 residence of ideas, into them. At the same time, the 
 brain itself is so oppressed, that they have scarce any 
 memory. Persons who read inattentively, that is, see 
 and speak, almost without remembering; also thosS 
 who labor under such a morbid loss of memory, as that 
 though they see, hear, speak and act, joro re nata, from 
 moment to moment, somewhat resemble the persons 
 who walk and talk in their sleep." 
 
 4. Somnambulism may be accompanied with cohe- 
 rent, or incoherent conduct. Coherence of conduct 
 discovers itself, in persons who are affected with it, un- 
 dertaking, or resuming certain habitual exercises or 
 employments. For example, we read of the scholar 
 resuming his studies, the professional man, his pursuits, 
 the poet his pen, the artisan his labors, and the hus- 
 bandman his toils, while under its influence, with their 
 usual industry, taste and correctness. A variety of 
 remarkable phenomena arise out of these peculiarities, 
 which we shall now endeavor to illustrate by a few ex- 
 amples of this singular affection. 
 
 5. Dr. Abercrombie rela,tes an anecdote derived from 
 a family of rank in Scotland, the descendants of a dis- 
 
 3. What does Dr. Hartley remark ? What is the meaning of 
 pro re naCa ? A)is. '' For the existing occasion" — for a special 
 business . or emergencj'. 
 
 4. With what maj- or may not Somnambulism be accompanied? 
 How does colierence of conduct discover itself? Of what exam- 
 ples of this do we read ? 
 
Appendix. 167 
 
 tinguished lawyer of the last age. This eminent per- 
 son had been consulted respecting a case ot" great 
 importance and much diliiculty, and he had been study- 
 ing it with intense anxiety and attention. After sev- 
 ered days had been occupied in this manner, he was 
 observed by his wife to arise from his bed in tlie night, 
 and go to a writ.ng desk which stood in the bed-room. 
 He tnen sit down, and wrote a long paper, which he 
 put careiully by in the desk, and returned to the bed. 
 The following morning he told his wife that he had a 
 most interesting dream — that he had dreamed of giving 
 a clear and luminous opinion concerning a case which 
 had exceedingly perplexed him, and that he would give 
 any thing to recover the train of thought which had 
 passed before him in his dream. She then directed 
 him to the writing-desk, where he found the opinion 
 clearly and fully written out, and which was afterwards 
 found to be perfectly correct. 
 
 6. An interesting anecdote is related of a farmer in 
 Massachusetts who was engaged during the winter in 
 thrashing his grain in his barn. One night he arose 
 in his sleep, repaired to his barn, set open the large 
 doors, ascended to the great beams where his grain was 
 deposited, threw down a flooring, thrashed it, bound up 
 the straw in a workman-like manner, and thus proceed- 
 ed until he had thrashed five floorings. Ascending 
 the sixth time, by a misstep he fell off from a part of 
 the mow and awoke. With much ado he found out 
 where he was, groped his v»\ay out, and found his house. 
 On coming to the light he found, so profuse had been 
 his perspiration that his clothes were literally wet 
 through. While performing this task he had not the 
 least consciousness of what he was doing. 
 
 5. What anecdote does Dr. Abercrombie relate ? 
 
 6. Relate the anecdote of tlie Massachusetts farmer. 
 
168 APPENDIX. 
 
 7. It is related of Dr. Blacklock of Edinburgh, that 
 he arose from his bed. to which he had retired at an 
 early hour, went into the room where his family wer(? 
 assembled, conversed with them, and afterwards enter- 
 tained them with a pleasant song, and without retaining, 
 after he awoke, the least recollection of what he had 
 done. 
 
 8. A gentleman of one of the English Universities 
 had been very intent during the day in the composition 
 of some verses which he had not been able to complete. 
 During the following night he arose in his sleep and 
 finished his composition, then expressed great exulta- 
 tion, and returned to bed. 
 
 9. The imagination or t^ncj. seems to be aimcst the 
 only one of our mental powers which is never suspen- 
 ded in its operations by sleep. Of the others, some are 
 more, others less affected, and some appear to be for a 
 time wholly extinguished. There is no doubt that the 
 Somnambulist is in that state of mind called dreaming. 
 Those volitions which are a part of his dreams, retain 
 their power over the muscles, consequently v/hatever 
 he dreams, is not only real in the mind, bs in the case 
 of all other dreams, but his a,bility to exercise his mus- 
 cles enables him to give it a reaiit}^ in action. 
 
 10. Dr. Abercrombie records that a young noble- 
 man, mentioned by Horstius, livino' in the citadel of 
 Breslau, was observed by his hroiiiei', who occupied 
 the same room, to rise in ids sleep, v.rap himself in 
 
 7. What is related of Dr. Blacklock 1 
 
 8. What is> related oi' a genih-inan lI one of ".he Ep.gli.sh I'nr 
 versities 1 
 
 9. Which of our mental powers seem to he almost the only ono 
 never suspcnde.i by sleep < What is said of the other mental 
 power!? 1 Of what is there no doubt? What is the consequence^ 
 of the volitions retaining tlieir power o\er the muscles 1 
 
a cloak, arni 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 cloaiv, returned to his 
 apartment, and went to bed. In the morning he men- 
 tioned 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. 
 
 11. Another still more extraordinary instance of 
 Somnambulism is given as follows: "In the Caj'thu- 
 sian Convent, of which I was prior," said father 
 
 A—- to me, one evening, "there lived a monk of 
 
 a melancholy humor and gloomy disposition, who wa5? 
 well known to be a somnambulist. Sometimes he 
 would com.e out of his cell, when the fit was upon 
 iiim, and go in again alone ; and sometimes he would 
 wander away, and require to be conducted home. 
 Medical advice being obtained, some remedies were 
 administered, and his relapses becoming of less fre-^ 
 quent occurrence, people no longer thought of him. 
 One evening as 1 sat up rather later than usual, I was 
 busy at my desk examining some papers, when I heard 
 the door of my chamber open, from which the key 
 was seldom withdrawn, and in a moment th.is monk 
 entered in a stale of absolute somnambulism. His 
 eyes were open, but fixed; he bad nothing on but the 
 tunic he slept in, and in his hand a long-biaded knife. 
 Knov/ing where my bed stood, he went directly to it, 
 and seemed to ascertain by feeling with his hand, 
 whether I actuall}^ was there. Then, three several 
 times, he struck with such force, that, after piercing 
 the blankets, the blade penetrated very deeply into the 
 mattrass. When he passed before me, ids features 
 
 10. Relrite the anecdote of the young nobleman. 
 
 11. Give a relation of a still more extraordinary instance. 
 
170 AP?ENt)i2t. 
 
 were contracted, and his brow knit, but when he hod 
 done the deed, he turned on his heel, and I noticed 
 that his features were relaxed, and had an air of satis- 
 faction diffused over themi The light of the two 
 lamps which were standing on my desk made no im- 
 pression on his eyes, and he went back Jigain as he 
 came, opening carefully and shutting the two doors 
 which led to my cell; and in a little time I assured 
 myself that he had gone directly and quietly to his 
 own apartment. The state into which this terri- 
 ble apparition threw me, may be conceived. I shud- 
 dered with horror at the idea of the danger I had 
 escaped, and offered up my thanks to Heaven ; but 
 such was my state of excitement that I could not close 
 my eyes during the night. 
 
 On the following morning I sent for the sonrinam<. 
 bulist, and in a tone of seeming indifference, inquired 
 what had been the subject of his Inst night's dream. 
 This question rather disconcerted him. ' Father,' 
 said he, '1 dreamed so strange a dre?.m, that I feel 
 some reluctance to tell it to you ; it is, perhaps, the 
 
 work of the devil, and .' 'I command you to 
 
 tell it,' said I. ' Dreams are involuntary, and merely 
 delusive. Speak out the truth.' ' Father,' then said 
 he, 'scarcely had I laid myself down when I dreamed 
 that you had killed my mother, and that her bloody 
 ghost appeared to me, crying out for vengeance. 
 This so transported me with fury, that I ran like a 
 madman into your cell, and finding you in bed, stab- 
 bed you there. Shortly afterwards, 1 awoke, perspi- 
 ring at every pore with a perfect horror of my wicked- 
 ness, and blessing God that so great a crime had not 
 been committed.' 'More has been committed than 
 you think,' said I, in a quiet manner. 1 then related 
 to him vi^hat had happened, and showed him the blows 
 he had intended for me, at the sight of which he threw 
 
APPENDIX. 171 
 
 himself at my feet) suffused with tears, bitterly lament- 
 ing the involuntary misibriune which had so nearly 
 taken place, and imploring me to inflict such a pen- 
 ance as 1 might thinlv suitable for such an occasion, 
 'No, no,' I exclujmed, 'J will not punish you for an 
 involuntary deed; but hereafter your attendance at 
 the night service will be dispensed with; and 1 warn 
 you that your cell shall be locked on the outside after 
 the evening meal, and shall only be opened to let you 
 out to the tamily mass at the dawn of day.' '' 
 
 12. Tiie sleep of the senses is sometimes imperfect, 
 and then they are susceptible of slight external im- 
 pressions. In such cases the mind can be reached 
 and affected through their medium, and a new direc- 
 tion given to a person's dreams. An illustration of 
 this has been given already in the case of the individ- 
 ual who was made to go tlirough the process of fight* 
 ing a duel. In his case the sense of hearing was but 
 imperfectly locked up in sleep. Somnambulists may 
 also retain, to a slight degree, a susceptibility to visual 
 impressions, indeed all the senses, it would seem, may 
 be, and are, under given circumstances, slightly aftect» 
 ed, by objects suited to awaken into action the several 
 bodily senses. There are cases on record wliere a 
 sensual organ has been excited in a somnambulist to a 
 degree of intensity, which is both wonderlul and un- 
 accountable. A case occurred of this kind in this 
 country several years since, illustrative of the state- 
 ment just made, where the visual organ was excited to 
 
 12. When the sleep of the senses is imperfect of what are they 
 susceptible ? In such cases how can the mind be reached ? What 
 illustration of this has already been given ? Which sense was im« 
 perfectly asleep in this case? Of what miy Somnambulists re- 
 tain a slight degree of susceptibility 1 What cases are on record? 
 What case occurred in this country several years ago, illustrative 
 of the statement just made 1 
 
iT2 appenOIx. 
 
 a degree of power, not capable of easy or satisfactory 
 explanation. It was the case of Jane Rider. When 
 in a state of somnambulism, it seemed impossible to 
 diminish the efficiency of the extraordinary powef 
 of the visual organ. Her eye-lids being closed, two 
 large wads of cotton were placed upon them and bound 
 on with a black silk handkerchief. The cotton filled 
 the cavity under the eye-brows, and reached down to 
 the middle of the cheek, and various experiments 
 were tried to ascertain whether she could see. A watcli 
 enclosed in a case was handed to her, and she was re- 
 quested to tell the time by it. After examining both 
 sides of the watch, she opened the case, and told the 
 time correctly. She also read, without hesitation, the 
 nam.e of a gentleman, written in characters so fine 
 that no one else could distinguish it at the usual dis- 
 tance from the eye. In another paroxysm, or condi- 
 tion of somnambulism, the lights were removed from 
 the room, and the windows so secured that no object 
 was discernable, and two books were pi-esented to her, 
 when she im.mediately told the titles of both, though 
 one of them was a book which she had never before 
 seen. In other experiments, while the room was so 
 darkened that it was impossible, with the ordinary 
 powers of vision, to distinguish the colors of the car* 
 pet, and her eyes were also bandaged, she pointed out 
 the different colors in the hearth rug, took up and rend 
 several cards which lay upon the table, threaded a 
 needle, and performed several other things which 
 could not have been done without the aid of vision. 
 
 13. This case of Jane Rider, it will be observed, is 
 very similar in some of its characteristics, to a certain 
 state of a person under the influence of Animal Mag- 
 netism. In a certain degree of the magnetic sleep, 
 
 13. To what is the case of Jane Rider very similar ? In a co 
 
APPENDIX. 173 
 
 the subject is regarded as a somnanibulist. " In this 
 state the patient awakens, not from his sleep, but within 
 himseli*, and regriins his consciousness. He knows 
 himself again, yet in a changed relation to surround- 
 ing circumstances. The external senses are either 
 closed entirely, or their character is changed, and the 
 internal sense only remains the same, in this state 
 the somnambulist, entirely awakened within himself, 
 distinguishes with his eyes nothing but light and dark- 
 ness, and not always even these, although, as is some- 
 times the case, the eyelids are open. The ball of the 
 eye is either drawn up convulsively or stiff, the pupil 
 widened and without sensation. Next, the sense of 
 feeling is metamorphosed into that of seeing, so tha.t 
 the sonmambulist can distinguish by it, not only the 
 outlines of things, but also colors, with perfect precision. 
 The region of the stomach becomes the central point of 
 all sens':ition, and it is chiefly through this region that 
 the sense of sight is supplied. The somnambulist, 
 therefore, can ascertain the time perfectly v»'ell by a 
 watch, closely held to the pit of the stomach. Of every 
 thing which has occurred to the somnambulist during 
 this period, what he has perceived, thought, said or done, 
 he has when awaking, either no recollection, or a very 
 faint one — but if he is brought again into this state, he 
 recollects every thing very well." Of the wonders of 
 Animal Magnetism, people may believe much or little. 
 The attention which it has attracted in Europe and in 
 , this country will justify, at least, the slight allusion 
 which we we have made to it, as illustrative of the sub- 
 
 tnin degree of the magnclic sleep how is the subject regarded 1 
 What is said of the Somnambulic patient, in this degree of l1;e 
 magnetic sleep ? What seems to justify this slight allusion to sn 
 inal magnetism ? What does the footing it has gained, and th 
 effects it has produced exemplify ? 
 
174 APPENDIX. 
 
 ject in hand. The foating which it has gained and the 
 effects which it has prodaced, exemplify, strikingly, the 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 INSANITY. 
 
 1. We have seen in the former part of this work, 
 the power which th© mind has, in the exercise of its 
 own self- activity, over its ov/n volitions. This power 
 is, to a greater or less extent, lost in insanity, and the 
 result is one of tv/o conditions. Either the mind is 
 entirely under the influence of a single impression, 
 without the power of varying or dismissing it, and 
 comparing it with other impressions ; or it is left at the 
 mercy of a chain of impressions, which have been set 
 in motion, and which succeed one another according to 
 some principle of connection over which the individual 
 has no control. In both cases the mental impiession 
 is believed to hnve a real and present existence in the 
 external world; and this false belief is not corrected 
 by the actual state of things as they present themselves 
 to the senses, or by any facts or considerations which 
 can be communicated by other sentient beings. Of 
 the cause of this remarkable deviation from the healthy 
 state of the mental functions, we know nothing. We 
 may trace its connection with accompanying circum- 
 stances in the bodily functions, and we may investigate 
 
 Section III. — I. What have we seen in the former part ©f this 
 work .' What is lost in insanity ? What is the result ? In both 
 cases what is believed ? Whit do we know of this remarkable 
 deviati on from the healthy state of ihe mental functions ? What 
 i s said of tracing its connection, &c. ? 
 
APPENDIX. 175 
 
 certain effects which result from it ; but the nature of 
 the change and the manner in which it is produced, 
 are among those points, in the arrangement of the 
 Ahnigluy Creator, wliich entirely elude our researches. 
 
 '2. it appears, then, there is a remarkable analogy 
 between the mental phenomena in insanity and in 
 dreaming; and that the leading peculiarities in both 
 these cases are referable to two heads; (1.) The im- 
 pressions which arise in the mind are believed to be 
 real and present existence.3, and this belief is not cor- 
 rected by comparing the conception with the actual 
 state of things in the extei-nal world. (2.) The chain 
 of ideas or images, which arise, follow one another 
 according to certain associations over which the indi- 
 vidual has no control. He cannot, as in a healthy 
 state, vary the series, or stop it at his will. In the 
 numerous forms of insanity we shall see these charac- 
 ters exhibited in various degrees; but we shnll be able 
 to trace their influence in one degree or another through 
 all the modifications; and, in the higher stales, or 
 what we call perfect mania, we see them exemplified 
 in the same complete manner as in dreaming. The 
 maniac tancies himself a king possessed oi boundless 
 power, and surrounded by every form of earthly splen- 
 dor, and with all his bodily senses in their perfect ex- 
 ercise, this hallucination is in no degree corrected by 
 the siglit of his bed of straw and ail the horrors of 
 his ceJL 
 
 3. A remarkable peculiarity in may cases of in- 
 sanity is a great activity ot mind, and rapidit}^ of con- 
 
 2. B3tween what is there a remarkable analogy ? To how ma- 
 ny heads are both these cases referable ? Waat is the first ? What 
 is tlie second ? What cannot he do as in a healthy state ? In the 
 numerous forms of insanity what shall we see ? What shall we 
 be able to trace ? 
 
170 APPENDIX. 
 
 ception — a tendency to seize rapidly upon incidental or 
 partial relations of things, and often a fertility of im- 
 agination which changes the character of the mind, 
 sometimes without remarkably distorting it. The mem- 
 ory in such cases is entire, and even appears more ready 
 than in health, and old associations are called up with 
 a rapidity quite unknown to the individual in his sound 
 state of mind. 
 
 4. A gentleman mentioned by Dr. Willis, who was 
 liable to periodical attacks of insanity, said that he ex- 
 pected the paroxysms with impatience, because he en- 
 joyed, during them, a high degree of pleasure. "Every 
 thing appeared easy to me. No obstacles presented 
 themselves, either in theory or practice. My memory 
 acquired, all of a sudden, a singular degree of perfec- 
 tion. Long passages of Latin authors occurred to my 
 mind. In general 1 have great difHculty in finding 
 rhythmical terminations, but tiien I could write verses 
 with as great facility as prose." "I have often" says 
 Pinel, "stopped at the chamber door of a literary gen- 
 tleman who, during his paroxysms, appears to soar 
 above the mediocrity of intellect that was familiar to 
 him, solely to admire his newly acquired powers of 
 eloquence. He declaimed upon the subject of the 
 Revolution with all the force, the dignity, and the pu- 
 rity of language that this very interesting subject could 
 admit of. At other times, he was a man of very ordi- 
 nary abilities. 
 
 5. It is this activity of thought and readiness of as- 
 sociation, that gives to maniacs of a particular class 
 an appearance of great ingenuity and acuteness. — 
 
 3. Vv' hat is a remarkaole peculiarity in many cases of insanity ? 
 What is the state of the memory in such cases ? 
 
 4. Relate the case of a gentleman mentioned by Dr. Willis ? 
 What case is spoken of by Pinel ] 
 
APPENDIX. 177 
 
 Hence they have been said to reason acutely upon false 
 premises; and one author has even alledged that a 
 maniac of a particular kind would make an excellent 
 logician. But to say that a maniac reasons either 
 soundly or acutely is an abuse of terms. He reasons 
 plausibly and ingeniously ; that is, he catches rapidly 
 incidental and partial relations, and from the rapidity 
 with which they are seized upon, it may be sometimes 
 difficult at first to detect their fallacy. He might have 
 been a skillful logician of the schools, whose ingenuity 
 consisted in verbal disputes and frivolous distinctions ; 
 but he never can be considered as exercising that sound 
 logic, the aim of which is to trace the relations of things, 
 and the object of v/hich is truth. 
 
 6. The peculiar character of insanity, in all its 
 modifications, appears to be that a certain impression 
 has fixed itself upon the mind in such a manner as to 
 exclude all others; or to exclude them from that in- 
 fluence, which they ought to have on the mind in its 
 estimate of the relations of things. This impression 
 may be entirely visionary and unfounded, or it may be 
 in itself true, but distorted in the applications, which 
 the unsound mind makes of it, and the consequences 
 which are deduced from it. Thus a man of wealth 
 fancies himself a beggar, and in danger of dying of 
 hunger. Another takes up the same impression, who 
 has in fact sustained some considerable loss. In the 
 one the impression is entirely visionary, like that which 
 might occur in a dream ; in the other, it is a real and 
 
 5. What gives to maniacs of a particular class the appearance 
 of great ingenuity ? What has one author alledged 1 Is it proper 
 to say that maniacs reason soundly ? How does he reason '? 
 
 6. What does the peculiar character of insanity, in all its modi- 
 fications appear to be ? How may this impression be ? Slate ih© 
 illustrations, in the case of the man of wealih, &c. 
 
178 APPENDIX. 
 
 true impression, carried to consequences which it does 
 not warrant. 
 
 7. There is great variety in the degree to which the 
 mind is influenced by the erroneous impression. In 
 some cases it is such, as entirely excludes all others, 
 even those immediately arising from the evidence of 
 the senses, as in the state of perfect mania. In many 
 others, though in a less degree than this, it is such as 
 to change the whole character. The particular man- 
 ner in which this more immediately appears will de- 
 pend, of course, upon the nature of the erroneous 
 impression. A person formerly most correct in his 
 conduct and habits, may become obscene and blasphe- 
 mous; accustomed occupations become odious to him; 
 the nearest and most beloved friends become objects of 
 his aversion and abhorrence. Much interesting mat- 
 ter of observation often arises out of these peculiarities ; 
 and it is no less interestmg to observe, during conva- 
 lescence the gradual return to former habits and at- 
 tachments. A young lady, mentioned by Dr. Rush, 
 who had been for some time confined in a lunatic asy- 
 lum, had shown for several weeks, every mark of a 
 sound mind except one — she hated her father. At 
 length, she one day acknowledged with pleasure the 
 return of her filial attachment, and was soon after 
 discharged fully recovered. Even when the erroneous 
 impression is confined to a single subject, it is remark- 
 able how it absorbs the attention, to the exclusion of 
 other feelings of a most intense and powerful kind. I 
 
 7. What is said of the degree of influence of the erroneous im- 
 pression ? In some cases what does it do ? In many others what 
 change does it affect ? Upon what will the manner in which this 
 appears depend ? State some of the aspects in wliich it appears. 
 What is interesting to observe? What case is mentioned by Dr. 
 Rush ] When the impression is confined to a single subject, what 
 
APPENDIX. 179 
 
 knew a person of wealth, remarks Dr. Abercrombie, 
 who had fallen into a state of melancholic hallucina- 
 tion, in connection with a transaction in business, which 
 he regretted having made, but of which the real effect 
 was of a trifling nature. While in this situation, the 
 most severe distref;s occurred in his family, by the 
 death of one of them under very painful circumstan- 
 ces, without his being affected by it in the slighest de- 
 gi*ee. 
 
 8. The uniformity of the impressions of maniacs is 
 so remarkable that M. Pine), in his Treatise on insan- 
 ity, has proposed this uniformity as a test for distin- 
 guishing feigned from real insanity. He has seen 
 melancholies confined in the Bicetre for twelve, fi&een, 
 twenty, and even thirty years; and through the whole 
 of that period, their hallucination has been confined 
 to one subject. Others, after a course of years, have 
 changed from one hallucination to another. A man 
 mentioned by him, was for eight years constanlly 
 haunted by the idea of being poisoned ; he then 
 changed his hallucination, become sovereign of the 
 world and extremely happy, and thus continued four 
 years. 
 
 9. The sudden revival of old associations, after hav- 
 ing been long and entirely suspended by mental hal- 
 lucination, presents some of the most singular phe- 
 nomena, connected with this subject. For example: 
 A man had been employed splitting wood with a 
 beetle and wedges. At night he put his implements 
 
 is the efiect ? What instance of this is mentioned by Dr. Aber- 
 crombie ? 
 
 8. What is said of the uniformity of the impressions of maniacs? 
 What cases of melancholies has Pinel seen ? What instance of a 
 change of hallucination is given ? 
 
 9. What presents some of the most singular phenomena con- 
 nected '.vith this subject ? What examples are given 1 
 
/ 
 
 189 APPENDIX. 
 
 in a hollow tree. During the night he becoine insane, 
 and thus continued for several years, when his reason 
 suddenly returned. The first question he asked, was, 
 whether his sons had brought home the beetle and 
 wedges. Upon their replying that they could not find 
 them, he arose from his bed, went to the field, and 
 found the wedges and rings to the beetle, the wood 
 having mouldered away. A lady who bad been in- 
 tensely engaged on a piece of needle-work, becam© 
 suddenly insane, and thus continued seven years, when 
 she suddenly recovered, and the first question she 
 asked, v/as about the needle-work, though during the 
 whole period of her insanity she had not been known 
 to allude to it. 
 
 10. Among the most singular phenomena connected 
 with insanity, we must reckon those cases in which the 
 hallucination is confined to a single point, while on every 
 other subject the patient speaks and acts like a ration- 
 al man, and he often shows the most astonishing power 
 of avoiding the subject of his disordered impression, 
 when circumstances make it advisable for him to do 
 so. A man mentioned by Pinel, v/ho had been for 
 some time confined in the Bicetre, was, on the visita- 
 tion of a commissary, ordered to be discharged as per- 
 fectly sane, after a long conversation, in which he had 
 conducted himself with the greatest propriety. The 
 officer prepared the proces verlal for his discharge, 
 and gave it to him to put his name to it, when he sub- 
 scribed himself Jesus Christ, and then indulged in all 
 the reveries connected with that delusion. 
 
 10. What must we reckon among the most remarkable phenom. 
 ena connected with insanity ? V/kat instance is related by Pinel? 
 What is the Bicetre 1 Ans. A Hospital for the insane in France- 
 What is the meaning of proces verbal ? Ans. ''Verbal process" — 
 A written statement in whicb a person testiSea to what he has seen 
 oi' heani. 
 
APPBNDIX. 181 
 
 11. Dr. Abercrombie refers mental hallucination to 
 several heads. 
 
 (1.) Propensities of character, which had been kept 
 under restraint by reason, or habit, developing them- 
 selves without control, and leading the mind into trains 
 of fancies arising out of them. Thus a man of an as- 
 piring, ambitious character, may imagine himself a 
 king or great personage ; while in a man of a timid, 
 suspicious disposition, the mind may fix upon supposed 
 injury, or loss, either of property or reputation. 
 
 12. (2.) Old associations recalled into the mind, 
 and mixed up perhaps with more recent occurrences, 
 in the same manner as we often see in dreaming. A 
 lady is mentioned, who became insane in consequence 
 of an alarm from fire. She imagined herself to be the 
 Virgin Mary, and that she had a halo around her 
 head. 
 
 13. (3.) Visions of the imagination formerly in- 
 dulged in what we sometimes call waking dreams, or 
 castle-building, occur to the mind, in its disordered con- 
 dition, and are now believed to have a real existence. 
 The source of the hallucination, referable to this head, 
 has been traced. In one case, for example, it 
 turned upon an office to which the individual imagined 
 that he had been appointed, and it was impossible to 
 persuade him to the contrary, or even that the office 
 was not vacant. He afterwards acknowledged that 
 his fancy had at various times been fixed upon that 
 appointment, though there were no circumstances that 
 warranted him in entertaining any expectation of it- 
 
 11. Dr. Abercrombie refers hallucination to several heads, what 
 is the first ? Give the illustration. 
 
 12. What is the second? Give the illustration. 
 
 13. What is the third ? State the case in which the source of 
 ihe hallucination has been traced. 
 
 I 
 
182 APPENDIX. 
 
 14. (4.) Bodily feelings give rise to trains of asso- 
 ciations, in the same extravagant manner as in drean-i- 
 ing. Dr. Rush mentions a man who imagined that he 
 had a CafFre in his stomach. In this case it is proba- 
 ble there was some uneasy sensation in the stomach, 
 connected in some way, with the impression of a Caf- 
 fre. 
 
 15. (5.) There is reason to suppose, that the hallu- 
 cinations of the insane, are often influenced by a cer- 
 tain sense of the new and singular state, in which their 
 mental powers usually are, and a certain feeling, 
 though confused and ill-defined, of the loss of that 
 power over their mental exercises, which they pos- 
 sessed when in health. To a feeling of this kind may 
 be referred, perhaps, the impression so common among 
 the insane of being under the influence of some su- 
 pernatural power. The impression being once estab- 
 lished of a mysterious agency, or a mysterious change 
 in the state and the feelings of the individual, various 
 other incidental associations may be brought into con- 
 nection with it, according as particular circumstances 
 have made a deep impression upon the mind. A man 
 mentioned by Pinel, who had become insane during 
 the French Revolution, imagined that he had been 
 guillotined ; that the judges had changed their minds 
 after the sentence was executed, and had ordered his 
 head to be put on again ; and that the persons intrusted 
 with this duty had made a mistake and put a wrong 
 head upon him. 
 
 14. What is said of bodily feelings as giving rise to trains of 
 association 1 What is the case mentioned by Dr. Rush ? 
 
 15. By what, is there reason to suppose the hallucinations of 
 the insane are often influenced ? What may be referred to a feel- 
 ing of this kind ? The belief of this mysterious agency being 
 once established, what may occur ? Give the case mentioned by 
 pinel? 
 
APPENDIX. 183 
 
 16. Out of the same undefined feeling of mental ex- 
 ercises, very different from a healthy state, arises the 
 common belief of intercourse with spiritual beings, of 
 visions and revelations. The particular character of 
 these, perhaps, arises out of some previous operations 
 of the mind, or strong propensity of the character ; and 
 the notion of a supernatural revelation may arise from 
 a certain feeling of the new and peculiar manner in 
 which the impression was fixed upon the mind. A 
 priest mentioned by Pinel, imagined that he had a com- 
 mission from the Virgin Mary to murder a certain in- 
 dividual, who was accused of infidelity. It is probable 
 that the patient in this case, had been naturally of a 
 violent and irascible disposition ; that he had come in 
 contact with this person, and had been annoj^ed and 
 irritated by his infidel sentiments ; and that a strong 
 feeling in regard to him had thus been excited in his 
 mind, which, in his insane state, was formed into this 
 vision. 
 
 17. When the mental impression is of a depressing 
 character, that form of the disease is produced, which 
 is called melancholia. It seems to differ from mania 
 merely in the subject of hallucination, and accordingly 
 we find the two modifications pass into each other, the 
 same patient being at one time in a state of melan- 
 cholic depression, and at another of maniacal excite- 
 ment. The most striking peculiarity of melancholia 
 is the prevailing propensity to suicide. 
 
 16. Out of the same feeling, what other common feeling arises? 
 From what may the particular character of these arise ? From 
 what may the notion of a supernatural revelation proceed ? Re- 
 late the case of the priest mentioned by Pinel ? 
 
 17. When the mental impression is of a depressing character 
 what is the disease called ? In what does it differ from mania 7 
 What is the most striking propensity of melancholia ? 
 
 l2 
 
184 APPENDIX. 
 
 18. Attempts have been made, to refer insanity to 
 disease of bodily organs, but hitherto withotit much 
 success. In many instances it may be traced to a 
 connection of this kind, but in a large proportion we 
 can trace no bodily disease. Insanity is, in a great 
 number of cases, to be traced to hereditary predisposi- 
 tion. 
 
 19. The higher degrees of insanity, are in general 
 so distinctly defined in their character, as to leave no 
 room for doubt, in deciding upon the nature of the af- 
 fection. But it is otherwise in regard to many of the 
 lower forms of insanity, and great discretion is often 
 required, in judging, whether the conduct of the indi- 
 vidual, in particular instances, is to be considered as 
 indicative of insanity. 
 
 18. What are Dr. Abercrombie's remarks upon the attempt to 
 connect insanity with disease of bodily organs ? 
 
 19. What is said of the higher degrees of insanity ? What ia 
 said of the lower modifications 1 
 
APPENDIX. 185 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 SPECTRAL ILLUSIONS. 
 
 1. The theory of Spectral Illusions is closely allied 
 to the affections already treated of in the preceding 
 sections. It is perhaps worthy of notice, that through 
 most ages, and in most nations, the belief in the ap- 
 pearance of spectres has extensivel)'' prevailed. A 
 belief in the existence of witches, and of witchcraft, 
 has also extensively prevailed — and many an innocent 
 life has been sacrificed to this strange and ridiculous 
 delusion. The witch stories of New England, which 
 caused so much excitement, and gained the full cred- 
 ence of the most learned and best citizens of that day, 
 have long since been rejected as supremely ridiculous, 
 though then thought to be founded upon sufficient tes- 
 timony. 
 
 2. It is not very surprising that men who believed 
 in witchcraft should also believe in ghosts and goblins, 
 and accordingly we find Dr. Cotton Mather, one of the 
 great men of the olden time, in New England, whim- 
 sical enough to have written a book, in which he at- 
 
 empted to prove that a denial of the appearance of 
 Spectres was an approval of the doctrine of the Sad- 
 ducees. His reasoning upon the subject is said to be 
 very weak, an assertion which we presume will sur- 
 prise no one. 
 
 SfXTiox IV. — ]. To what is llie tlieory of spectra! illusions 
 closely allied ? What is worthy of notice ? A belief in what 
 else has extensively prevailed ? What has been sacrificed ? What 
 is said of the witch stories of New England? 
 
 2. What is not very surprising? What is said of Cotton Ma- 
 ther ' 
 
186 APPENDIX. 
 
 3. The common assertion is, that the testimony in 
 favor of the appearance of spectres is not sufficient — 
 that they have appeared only to men in humble life, 
 the rude and the ignorant — that they appear to only 
 one person, and in the night — that the motives often 
 are trivial — that there never has been an instance in 
 which the evidence of such appearance was satisfac- 
 tory — that many supposed cases of their appearance 
 have been proved to be mistakes — that where they have 
 been doubted, tales of them have ceased, and, on the 
 contrary, where they have been believed in, they have 
 multiplied. These statements in the general are well 
 founded, and yet there are so far exceptions to them, 
 that spectres, by some are believed to have been seen 
 in the day time — by several persons — and by men of 
 some learning and eminence. Every such appearance, 
 however, must be susceptible of a satisfactory explana- 
 tion, according to the ordinary laws of nature, and in 
 cases which seem inexplicable, the inability to explain 
 is doubtless owing to a lack of knowledge suthcient to 
 trace out the particular cause. 
 
 4. We shall proceed to introduce a few facts and il- 
 lustrations on this subject, under the following heads : 
 
 (1.) False perceptions, or impressions made upon 
 the senses only, in which the mind does not participate. 
 An example of this is given in the case of a gentle- 
 man v/ho died at the age of eighty, and who, for several 
 years before his death, never sat down to the table at 
 his meals, without the impression of sitting down with 
 a large party dressed in the fashion of fifty years back. 
 
 3. What is the common assertion ? Notwithstanding, what is 
 believed by some '? Of what must every such appearance be sus- 
 ceptible 1 V/hcn cases seem inexplicable to what is it owing ? 
 
 4. Facts and illustrations on this subject are given under several 
 heads — what is the first? What is the example given ? 
 
APPENDIX. 18T 
 
 He was blind of one eye, and the sight of the other was 
 very imperfect. On this account, he wore over it a 
 green shade, and he had before him the image of his 
 own countenance, as if it were reflected from the inner 
 surface of the shade. 
 
 5. (2.) Real dreams, though the person was not at 
 the time sensible of having slept, nor consequently of 
 having dreamed. A person under the influence of 
 some strong mental impression, drops asleep for a few 
 seconds, perhaps without being sensible of it, some 
 scene or person connected with the impression appears 
 in a dream, and he starts up under the conviction that 
 it was a spectral appearance. The following example 
 well illustrates the analogy between dreaming and 
 spectral illusions. A gentleman having sat up late 
 one evening under considerable anxiety about one of 
 his children that was ill, fell asleep in his chair, and 
 had a frightful dream, in which the prominent figure 
 was an inmiense baboon. He awoke with the fright, 
 got up instantly, and walked to a table which was in 
 the middle of the room. He was then quite awake and 
 quite conscious of the articles around him, but close by 
 the wall, in the end of the apartment, he distinctly saw 
 the babosn making the same horrible grimaces, which 
 he had seen in his dream, and the spectre continued 
 visible for about half a minute. 
 
 6. Dr. Dwight, former President of Yale College, in 
 relating an instance of spectral illusion which occurred 
 in England, seems to us, from the manner in which he 
 does it, to yield it his credence. Dr. Dwight distinctly 
 avows, " I would admit a story of a spectre, if as well 
 attested as any in a court of justice. Make out such a 
 
 5. What is referred to the second head ? What example is given 
 to illustrate the analogy between dreaming and spectral illusions ? 
 
 6. What is said of Dr. Dwight 1 What does he distinctly avow? 
 
188 APPENDIX. 
 
 case and I v/ill believe it. It is within the power of 
 God to make spectres : there is no contradiction in- 
 volved in it. Still, arguing from facts, it seems to me 
 most probable that they do not appear, though I cannot 
 prove that they do not." It may be that the following 
 case was, in the opinion of Dr. Dwight, sufficiently 
 substantiated to entitle it to belief. The story was told 
 b)'- Dr. Smith. We shall give it, in the language re- 
 ported to have been used by Dr. Dwight in relating it, 
 as follows : 
 
 "He (Dr. Smith) states, that he was once engaged 
 in the settlement of a large estate in England, and found 
 that a highly important document was missing, which 
 was absolutely necessary to prove the title. As a very 
 interesting family were dependent on the decision of 
 the case for their livelihood, his feelings were greatly 
 excited on the subject. The time rapidly approached 
 when the cause was to be tried; and as he was sitting 
 alone in his study one day, a stranger presented him- 
 self, in a neat black dress, without any thing very ex- 
 traordinary in his appearance, whose approach was 
 attended by no noise, and of whose appearance he was 
 not aware until he raised his eyes by accident. Although 
 he was surprised to find a person thus unceremoniously 
 introduced into his private study, he had at first no sus- 
 picion of his being a supernatural visitor. The stran- 
 ger, after a courteous salutation, informed him that he 
 knew he was anxiously wishing to obtain an important 
 document, and that it was to be found in the possession 
 of a nobleman whom he mentioned, and to whom he 
 recommended to him to make application. After com- 
 municating this information the mysterious visitor dis- 
 appeared, it wTiS difficult to imagine how ; for he was 
 
 What instance tloes he relate wliich pro])ably obtainGd his cred- 
 enoe? 
 
APPENDIX. 189 
 
 not yet suspected of being a spectre, and, on inquiry 
 being made, none of the family had seen such a per- 
 son, either entering or retiring. The Doctor appears 
 to have been a man of strong mind, neither weak nor 
 superstitious. He deliberated much and cooly upon 
 this singular occurrence, but felt a great unwillingness 
 to apply to the nobleman in question, on what appeared 
 such unsatisfactory ground, and such an errand, and at 
 last made up his mind to take no notice of the matter. 
 He, however, was again visited by the same person, 
 under very similar circumstances, being again sur- 
 prised in his study by his unexpected appearance, and 
 being once more urged, with more persuasion, to apply 
 to the nobleman and request him to search for the 
 paper. He at length became convinced that the ex- 
 periment was worth trying, he visited the nobleman, 
 and obtained what he desired. The document proved 
 of the utmost importance, and saved the estate to the 
 rightful heirs. The Doctor afterwards collected all 
 the facts relating to the stranger's appearance, and 
 makes out a very strong claim of evidence in favor of 
 his being a spectre. The story does not sound like a 
 common one ; the narrator was a man of good char- 
 acter and wit. He possessed an ardent mind, and 
 strong prejudices, but had strength of intellect, and was 
 one of the first English preachers. The circumstances 
 of this case were peculiar, and several of the natural 
 objections to common ghost stories will not lie against 
 it. The spectre is represented to have come into the 
 Doctor's room in the day time ; there was nothing that 
 would seem likely to favor imposture or mistake ; the 
 veracity of the narrator cannot be questioned ; the proof 
 of the whole seems to have been furnished by the find- 
 ing of the document souglit for. Perhaps this story is 
 in all respects as unexceptionable as any that has ever 
 been furnished to prove the appearance of spectres." 
 i3 
 
-T 
 
 190 APPENDIX. 
 
 7. If it is as unexceptionable as any, we must, with 
 due deference, be permitted to say, that it is far from be- 
 ing concKisive, or satisfactory as a testimony in favor 
 of the appearance of spectres. But on the supposition 
 that spectres do not appear, v/e believe it is susceptible 
 of a rational explanation. Dr. Smith, unquestionably 
 had a dream or reverie, without being conscious of 
 it. He had, probably, at some former period of time, 
 when the subject was a matter of indifference to him, 
 and, therefore, not calculated to make an abiding im.- 
 pression, heard of some papers being in the hands of 
 this particular noblema,n of consequence to this family 
 — or something which in some way connected the 
 nobleman with the transaction. It being at the time 
 of no special interest to him, (Dr. Smith) he had en- 
 tirely forgotten the statement. It is a well authenti- 
 cated fact, that old impressions, long since forgotten, 
 are frequently revived in dreams. Take then, these 
 two considerations into viev/, namely, that a person 
 may dream and not be conscious of it, and that long 
 forgotten impressions are revived in dreams, this 
 case is capable of explanation, consistently with the 
 non-appearance of a spectre. Dr. Smith sat in his 
 study, exercised with deep anxiety, and studying in- 
 tensely into the case in hand. In the silence and soli- 
 tude of his study, in this intensely anxious and laboring 
 stnte of mind, he fell asleep, and dreamed that a person 
 appeared before him, and communicated the informa- 
 tion spoken of. 
 
 8. In dreams, we have already seen that we mistake 
 
 7. What is said of tiiis case, though believed by Dr. Dwight to 
 be as unexceptionable as any in favor of spectres ? On the sup- 
 position that spectres do not appear of what is it believed to be 
 susceptible ? State with particularity the explanation of it here 
 given ? 
 
APPENDIX. 191 
 
 oar tlioughts for real things, and while the dream lasts, 
 it appears a reality. We have also seen the singular 
 estimate which is put upon time in dreams. Transac- 
 tions which require a considerable space of time, oc- 
 cupy in a dream but a few moments, or even seconds 
 of time. Dr. Smith, then, not being sensible of dream- 
 ing, the dream would appear to him a reality, and the 
 transaction to have occupied much more time than was 
 actually allotted to the dream. 
 
 9. Having determined not to call upon the noble- 
 man, and being aga.in in his study intensely exercised 
 with his reflections upon the case, and prob?J}ly thin^;- 
 ijig, with some feeling of wonder, about his late myste- 
 rious visitor, it is not wonderful, that the same scene 
 should be again presented in another transient, uncon- 
 scious dream. And it is perfectly natural that the dream 
 should not again recur, after he iiad visited the noble- 
 man, obtained the paper, and had the anxiety of his 
 mind relieved. Thus this, at first, seemingly unex- 
 plahiable spectral phenomenon, appears to be suscep- 
 tible of satisfactory explication, on raitional principles. 
 
 10. (3.) Intense mental conceptions so strongly 
 impressed upon the mind as for the moment to be be- 
 lieved to have a real existence. This takes place when, 
 along with the mental emotion, the individual is placed 
 in circumstances in which external impressions are 
 very slight — as solitude, faint light, and quiescence of 
 body, it is a state closely bordering on dreaming, 
 though the vision occurs while the person is in the 
 waking state. The following is an example, namely : 
 
 8. In droams what have we ah-eady seen 1 Dr. Smith not be- 
 ing sensible of dreaming, ho\v would the dream appear to him ? 
 
 9. What is said in explanation of the second appearance of the 
 supposed spectre ? 
 
 10. What is the third head ? When does this take place 1 Upon 
 what does this Ftate closely border ? 
 
19^ APPENDIX. 
 
 11. A gentlemen was told of the sudden death of ail 
 old and intimate friend, and was deeply aiFected by it. 
 The impression, though partially baaished by the busi- 
 ness of the day, was renewed from time to time, by 
 Conversing on the subject with his family and other 
 friends. After supper, he went by himself to walk in 
 a small enclosure in the rear of his house, which was 
 bounded by extensive gardens. The sk}^ was clear 
 and the night serene, and no light was falling upon the 
 enclosure from any of the windows. As he walked 
 down stairs, he was not thinking of anything connected 
 with his deceased friend ; but when he had proceeded 
 at a slow pace about half-way across the enclosure, the 
 figure of his friend started up before him, in a most 
 distinct manner, at the opposite angle of the enclosure. 
 He noted his dress, and the several articles particularly, 
 as those formerly worn by the deceased. He sa,ys, an 
 indescribable feeling shot through his frame, but re- 
 covering himself, he walked briskly up to the spot, 
 keeping his eyes intently fixed upon the spectre. As 
 he approached it, it vanished, not by sinking into the 
 earth, but by seeming to melt insensibly into air. 
 
 12. An interesting case referable to this head is de- 
 scribed by Sir Walter Scott, in his work on Demonology 
 and Witchcraft, as follows : " Not long after the death 
 of a late illustrious poet, [probably Lord Byron] who 
 had filled, while living, a great station in the eye of 
 the public, a literary friend, to whom the deceased had 
 been well known, was engaged during the darkening 
 twilight of an autumn evening in perusing one of the 
 publications which professed to detail the habits and 
 opinions of the distinguished individual v/ho was now 
 
 11. Relate the example here given. 
 
 12. Relate the interesting case, referable to the third head, de- 
 scribed by Walter Scolt. 
 
AFft:Noix. 103 
 
 no more. As the reader had enjoyed the intimacy of 
 the deceased to a considerable degree, he was deeply 
 interested in the publication, which contained some 
 particulars relating to himself and other friends. A 
 visitor was sitting in the apartment, who was also en* 
 gaged in reading. Their sitting-room opened into an 
 entrance-hall, rather fantastically fitted up with articles 
 of armor, skins of wild animals, and the like. It M'as 
 when laying down his book, and passing into this hall, 
 through which the moon was beginning to shine, that 
 the individual of whom I speak saw right before him, 
 and in a standing posture, the exact representation of 
 his departed friend, whose recollection had been so 
 strongly brought to his imagination. He stopped for 
 a single moment, so as to notice the wonderful accu- 
 racy with which fancy had impressed upon the bodily 
 eye, the peculiarities of dress and posture of the illus- 
 trious poet. Sensible, however, of the delusion, he felt 
 no sentiment save that of wonder at the extraordinary 
 accuracy of the resemblance, and stepped onwards to^ 
 wards the figure, which resolved itself, as he approach- 
 ed, into the various materials of which it was composed. 
 These were merely a screen, occupied by great coats, 
 shawls, plaids, and such other articles as usually are 
 found in a country entrance-hall." 
 
 13. (4.) Erroneous impressions connected with 
 bodily disease, generally disease in the brain, produce 
 these illusions. The illusions in these cases, arise in 
 a manner strictly analagous to dreaming, and consist 
 of some former circumstances recalled to the mind, and 
 believed for the time to have a real and present exis- 
 tence. The diseases in connection with which thev 
 
 13. What is the fourth head 7 To what are the illusions in theso 
 cases strictly analagous ? Of what do they consist ? With what 
 disease are they generally connected .' 
 
194 APPENDIX* 
 
 arise are generally of an apoplectic or inflammatory 
 character, sometimes epileptic ; and they are very fre- 
 quent in the affection called delirium tremens, which 
 is produced by a continued use of intoxicating liquors. 
 14. An example of this form of illusion is given in 
 the case of a man v/ho kept a dram shop. He saw a 
 soldier endeavoring to force himself into his house in a 
 menacing manner, and in rushing forward to prevent 
 him, was astonished to find it a phantom. He after- 
 wards had a succession of visions of persons long since 
 dead, and others who were living. He was finally 
 cured by bleeding and other remedies, and the source 
 of his first vision was traced to a quarrel which he had 
 sometime before with a drunken soldier. Similar 
 phantasms occur, in various forms, in febrile diseases. 
 "A lady whom I attended," remarks Dr. Abercrombie^ 
 " some years ago, on account of an inflammatory af- 
 fection of the chest, awoke her husband one night, at 
 the commencement of her disorder, and begged him to 
 get up instantly. She said she had distinctly seen a 
 man enter the apartment, pass the foot of her bed, and 
 go into a closet which entered from the opposite side of 
 the room. She was quite av/ake, and fully convinced 
 of the reality of the appearance ; and, even after the 
 closet was examined, it was found almost impossible to 
 convince her that it was a delusion." There are nu- 
 merous examples of this kind on record. A writer men- 
 tions a lady who, during a severe illness, repeatedh/ 
 saw her father, who resided at the distance of many 
 hundred miles, come to her bedside, and, withdrawing 
 the curtains, address her in his usual voice and man- 
 ner. A farmer, mentioned by the same writer, in re- 
 turning from a market, was deeply affected by a most 
 
 14. Relate the example given of this form of illusion. Give 
 the example of the lady attended by Dr. Abercrombie. 
 
APPENDIX. 195 
 
 extraordinary, brilliant light, which he thought he saw 
 upon the road, and by an a])pearance in the light, 
 which he supposed to be our Savior. He was greatly 
 alarmed, and spurring his horse, galloped home; re* 
 mained agitated during the evening ; was seized with 
 typhus fever, then prevailing in the neighborhood, and 
 died in about ten days. It was afterward ascertained, 
 that on the morning of the day of the supposed vision, 
 before he left home, he had complained of headache 
 and languor ; and there can be no doubt that the spec- 
 tral appearance was connected with the commencement 
 of the fever. Entirely analogous to this, but still more 
 striking in its circumstances, is the case of a lady about 
 fifty, who, on returning one evening from a party, went 
 into a dark room to lay aside some part of her dress, 
 Vv'hen she saw distinctly before her the figure of death, as 
 a skeleton, with his arm uplifted, and a dart in his hand. 
 He instantly aimed a blov/ at her with the dart, which 
 seemed to strike her on the left side. The same night 
 she was seized with fever, accompanied with symptoms 
 of inflammation in the left side, but recovered after a 
 severe illness. So strongly was the vision impressed 
 upon her mind, that, even for some time after her re- 
 covery, she could not pass the door of the room in which 
 it occurred, without discovering agitation, declaring 
 that it was there that she met with her illness. 
 
 15. (5.) To these sources of spectral illusions, we 
 are to add those which originate in pure misconception ; 
 the Imagination working up into a spectral illusion a 
 natural circumstance, which may be in itself, some 
 really trifling thing. Of this class is an anecdote, re- 
 lated of a whole ship's company being thrown into the 
 utmost state of consternation, by the apparition of a 
 
 15. What is the fifth head? What anecdote of this class is re- 
 lated 7 
 
196 AtPENClX. 
 
 cook, who had died a few days before. He was dis- 
 tinctly seen walking ahead of the ship, with a peculiar 
 gait, by which he was distinguished when alive, from 
 having one of his legs shorter than the other. On 
 steering the ship towards the object, it was found to be 
 a piece of floating wreck. 
 
 16. To the same principle is referable the celebrated 
 " Spectre Ship," which appeared in the harbor of New 
 Haven, Connecticut, many years ago. The story is 
 briefly as follows: The people of New Haven, in the 
 early settlement of the colony, not enjoying desirable 
 facilities for foreign trade, united in the building of a 
 ship, for the purpose of availing themselves, to some 
 extent, of such advantages. A ship of one hundred or 
 one hundred and fifty tons burden, was completed, and 
 in January, 1646, a passage having been cut through 
 the ice lor about three miles, the ship set sail with about 
 seventy souls on board, designing first to touch at the 
 West India Islands, and then sail direct for England. 
 Many of the most beloved, respected, influential, and 
 enterprizing citizens of New Haven, heads of families, 
 male and female, were on board. The ship never was 
 heard from. The long absence of the ship, and the fi- 
 nally forced and settled conviction, that she was lost, with 
 all on board, produced consternation, distress, and 
 mourning, in the infant colony. Tv/o years and five 
 months after the sailing of the ship, in the month of 
 June, after a thunderstorm, there appeared, about sun- 
 set, over the harbor of New Haven, tlie form of the 
 keel of a ship, with three masts, to which were suddenly 
 added, all the tackling and sails, and presently after, 
 upon the highest part of the deck, a man appeared, 
 standing with one hand leaning against his left side, 
 
 16. To what is the case of the New Haven "Spectre Ship" ref 
 erablc ? Relate the story. 
 
APPENDIX. 197 
 
 and in his right hand was a sword pointing towards the 
 sea. The phantom continued about a quarter of an 
 hour, and was seen by a crowd of wondering witnesses, 
 till at last, there arose a great smoke, v/hich covered 
 all the ship, and in the smoke she vanished away. It 
 was many years afterwards reported by those who wit- 
 nessed the illusion of the Spectre Ship, that the Rev. 
 Mr. Davenpoi-t, the minister of New Haven at the 
 time, publicly declared, " that God had condescended 
 to give, for the quieting of their afflicted spirits, this 
 extraordinary account ot his disposal of those, for whom 
 so many pra^-ers had been offered." 
 
 17. In this atmospheric phenomenon, if it may so be 
 called, the workings of excited imagination in a num- 
 ber of persons, tending to the same results, (for they 
 were all animated by a similar feeling in regard to the 
 lost ship) is distinctly traceable, first laying the keel 
 of the ship and erecting the masts, and then, as the 
 imagination became more heated, by mutual sugges- 
 tions, the whole ship was completed to its topmost rig- 
 ging, and the man with the drawn sword appeared. 
 And when the rising breeze began to agitate the natu- 
 ral vapor of the ocean, the excited imagination of the 
 wondering spectators easily wreathed the fancied ship 
 in dense clouds of smoke. 
 
 18. A story referable to the same head is related of 
 a gentleman traveling in the Highlands of Scotland, 
 who was conducted to a bedroom, which was reported 
 to bo haunted by the spirit of a man who had there 
 committed suicide. In the night he awoke under the 
 influence of a frightful dream, and found himself sitting 
 up in bed, with a pistol grasped in his right hand. On 
 
 17. State the explanation here ventured to bo given ? 
 
 18. Relate the story, referable to the same he-dd, of the gentle 
 man traveling in the Dighlanfia of Scotland. 
 
198 APPENDIX. 
 
 looking round the room he now discovered, by the 
 moonlight, a corpse dressed in a shroud reared against 
 the wall, close by the window ; the features of the body, 
 and every part of the funeral apparel, being perceived 
 distinctly. On recovering from the first impulse of 
 terror, so far as to investigate the source of the phan- 
 tom, it was found to be produced by the moonbeams 
 forming a long bright image through the broken win- 
 dow. 
 
 19. Two esteemed friends of mine, says Dr. A.ber- 
 crombie, while traveling in the highlands, had occasion 
 to sleep in separate beds in one apartment. One of 
 them, having awoke in the night, saw by the moon- 
 light a skeleton hanging from the head of his friend's 
 bed; every part of it being perceived in the most 
 distinct manner. He instantly got up, and upon ex- 
 amination found the illusion to be produced by the 
 moonbeams falling upon the drapery of the bed. He 
 returned to bed and soon fell asleep. Again awaking, 
 the skeleton was still distinctly before him, and being 
 determined to be disturbed no longer by the phantom, 
 he arose and adjusted the drapery of the bed, and the 
 skeleton appeared no more. 
 
 20. From the foregoing considerations, it will, we 
 think, be apparent, that spectral illusions, commonly 
 denominated ghosts and goblins, are in all cases refer- 
 able to natural causes ; and a contrary belief is but the 
 offspring of ignorance and superstition. 
 
 21. We may here appropriately introduce an ex- 
 tract from Sir Walter Scott's work on Witchcraft and 
 Demonology, and for its good sense commend it to care- 
 
 19. Relate the anecdote, recorded by Dr. Abercrombie, of two 
 esteemed friends of his ? 
 
 20. From the foregoing considerations what will be apparent ? 
 
 21. For what is the extract from Sir Walter Scott's work com- 
 
APPENDIX. 199 
 
 ful consideration : — " There are many ghost-stories 
 which we do not feel at liberty to challenge as impos- 
 tures, because we are confident, that those who relate 
 them on their own authority actually believe what they 
 assert, and may have good reason for doing so, though 
 there is no real phantom after all. We are for, there- 
 fore, from averring that such tales are necessarily false. 
 It is easy to suppose the visionary has been imposed 
 upon by a lively dream, a waking revery, the excita- 
 tion of a powerful imagination, or the misrepresenta- 
 tion of a diseased organ of sight ; and, in one or other 
 of these causes, (to say nothing of a system of decep- 
 tion, which may, in many instances, be probable), we 
 apprehend a solution will be found for all cases of what 
 are called real ghost-stories. In truth, the evidence 
 with respect to such apparitions is very seldom accu- 
 rately or distinctly questioned. A supernatural tale is, 
 in most cases, received as an agreeable mode of amus- 
 ing society, and he would be rather accounted a sturdy 
 moralist than an entertaining companion, who should 
 employ himself in assailing its credibility. It would, 
 indeed, be a solecism in manners, something like that 
 of impeaching the genuine value of the antiquities ex- 
 hibited by a good-natured collector for the gratification 
 of his guests. This difficulty will appear greater, 
 should a company have the rare good fortune to meet 
 with the person who himself witnessed the wonders 
 
 mended ? What do we not fee! at liberty to challenge as impos- 
 tures 1 Why ? Alter all what may there not be ? What is it easy 
 lo suppose 1 What may be probable 1 What do we apprehend 
 may be found for all cases of ghost stories ? What is very seldom 
 accurately or distinctly questioned ? How is a supernatural tale 
 in most cases received? How is he accounted who should pre- 
 sume to assail its credibility ? Indeed what would it be consid- 
 ered ? What would it be like ? When will this difiiculty appear 
 
200 APPENDIX. 
 
 which he tells ; a well-bred or prudent man will, un- 
 der such circumstances, abstain from using the rules of 
 cross-examination practised in a court of justice; and 
 if in any case he presumes to do so, he is in danger of 
 receiving answers, even from the most candid and hon- 
 orable persons, which are rather fitted to support the 
 credit of the storj' which they stand committed to main- 
 tain, than to the pure service of unadorned truth. 
 
 22. The narrator is asked, for example, some un- 
 important question with respect to the apparition ; he 
 answers it on the hasty suggestion of his own imagina- 
 tion, tinged as it is with belief of the general fact, and, 
 by doing so, often gives a feature of minute evidence 
 which was before wanting, and this with perfect un- 
 consciousness on his own part. It is a rare occurrence, 
 indeed, to find an opportunity of dealing with an ac- 
 tual ghost-seer ; such instances, however, 1 have cer- 
 tainly myself met with, and that in the case of able, 
 wise, candid and resolute persons, of v/hose veracity 
 I had every reason to be confident. But, in such in- 
 stances, shades of mental aberration have afterward 
 occurred, which sufficiently accounted for the supposed 
 apparitions, and will incline me always to feel alarmed 
 in behalf of the continued health of a friend who 
 should conceive himself to have witnessed such a 
 visitation. 
 
 23. The nearest approximation which can be gener- 
 ally made to exact evidence in the case, is the word of 
 some individual who has had the story, it may be, from 
 the person to whom it has happened, but most likely 
 
 greater ? From what will a well-bred person abstain ? If he 
 should presume to do so, of what would he De in danger 1 
 
 '22. If the Darrator is asked an important question how does he 
 answer It? With what has the writer hiinself met ? In such 
 instances what have afterwards occurred ? 
 
APPENDIX. 201 
 
 from his family or some friend of the family. Far 
 more commonly, the narrator possesses no better means 
 of knowledge than that of dwelling in the country 
 where the thing happened, or being well acquainted 
 with the outside of the mansion in the inside of which 
 the ghost appeared. 
 
 24. In every point, the evidence of such a second- 
 hand retailer of the mystic story must fall under the 
 adjudged case in an English court. The Judge stopped 
 a witness who was about to give an account of the 
 murder, upon trial, as it was narrated to him by the 
 ghost of the murdered person. *Hold, sir,' said 
 his lordship; 'the ghost is an excellent witness, and 
 his evidence the best possible ; but he cannot be heard 
 by proxy in this court. Summon him hither, and I'll 
 hear him in person ; but your communication is mere 
 hearsay, which my office compels me to reject.' Yet 
 it is upon the credit of one man, who pledges it upon 
 that of three or four persons, who have told it success- 
 ively to each other, that we are often expected to be- 
 lieve an incident inconsistent with the laws of nature, 
 however agreeable to our love of the wonderful and 
 the horrible." 
 
 23. What is the nearest approximation which can generally be 
 made in this case ? 
 
 24. Under what, must such second hand evidence fall ? Relate 
 the anecdote of the English Judge. Upon what are we often ex- 
 pected to believe an incident inconsistant with the laws of nature? 
 
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