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iwiwui w iiiwuiPTWWWI 
 
 DUNNETT'S ESSAY. 
 
 ORIGINAL. 
 
/ A>--^ ^"rrM? 
 
il 
 
 DUNNKTT'S ESSAY, 
 Oriainal. 
 
 AN ESSAY, 
 
 (;ON0BRNING THE 
 
 Phitoptts ^f ^it^ planters 
 
 AXn THE 
 
 LAWS WHICH GOVERN IT ; 
 
 AT.SO, OF THE 
 
 NATURE AND POWER OP THOUGHT. 
 
 BT THE 
 
 REV. SAMUEL DUNNETT. 
 
 » ^ » 
 
 BRANTFORD; 
 
 SutUshtti f»s the ^tttiiott 
 
 PRINTED AT THE OFFICE OF THE BRANTFORD COURIER. 
 
 1862. 
 
I: 
 
 «^ df^ 
 
 j;^''<". vN 
 
 0ior«^flt'jiIt|a gi!fijaolf*H 
 
 ' f 
 
 IN' 
 
 .mnv 
 
 X 
 
 O.f 
 
 ^fH^^Hcl titl 
 
CO^^TENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 XNTRODUCTION. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 On the frequent use of the term memory, and divine benevolence. 
 ■—Memory. Importance of understanding the nature and 
 strength of the memorys The action of the memory. A 
 power in us by which we think. Of the use and application of 
 different terms to the memory. Of words, of figures, and of 
 tacts 
 
 J 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Of the position of thoughts when they »re< forgotteu. — Thought* 
 not shelved up in the memory. Thoughts forgotten. When* 
 are the thoughts we have forgotten? Propositions. Do 
 thoughts exist beyond the sphere of the soul's action? Memory 
 said it imply a resurrection of thought. Is tnemory a resuscita- 
 tion of dormant thought? A consciouB perception is thinking. 
 
VI. 
 
 How can thoughts be laid by ? Thoughts not dormont indivi 
 duals. The constant reception of particles a burden. Expan- 
 sion not sufficient to meet the case. Of the three proposi- 
 tions If^ 
 
 CHAPTER ni. 
 
 On the elements and actions of the soul. — ^y^nt the elements of - 
 the soul are. Perception in tho present, in the future, and in 
 the past. The fact of transition. Transition consistent — its 
 cause. The power of stretching out, a mystery. The soul 
 does not leave the body at such times. Of time and distance. 
 Of certain forms assumed. What is the office and power ol' 
 imagination ? Cannot perceive and imagine at the same time. 
 Imagination a dull, and frequently, a wrong perception of 
 things. What memory is. Imagination and perceptian in the 
 future. Perception goes into the post. Of partly remember- 
 ing thiags. Perception widely distributed. Steady persever- 
 ance essential. The different stages through which the mind 
 passes. Upon what our suocess piincipally depends. Memory 
 a blank without conscioosness. Perception in the post also 
 assumes different forms. How transition can be proved.. . . .34 
 
 On 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 On the different degrees of deception to which the soul is liable. 
 — A deceitful or treacherous memory. What interest may do 
 in the soul. Is the soul deceived at once, or by degrees? 
 The struggle is long, repeated^ and voluntary. Of false forms 
 assumed by the mind. Where does the blame rest ? Momory 
 deceitful — why ? Of different and just rewards. The difficul- 
 ties under which we labour from this state of mind at the 
 
 mm 
 
 '^"""IWilll 
 
18 
 
 VII. 
 
 present time are great. Of contradictory evidences. How 
 auch cases involve moral responsibility. An honest forgetful 
 memory •. .'»T 
 
 s 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 On a weak memory and its remedies — What is the caune of a 
 weak or poor memory 7 A want of interest one cause of a 
 weak memory. Cpnnot expect to remember everything. 
 Timely and vigorous effort important to strengthen the momory. 
 Interest felt and effort put forth. Increasing and repeated 
 effort essential to strengthen the memory. Every exertion to 
 remember gives additional strength. Explanation. According 
 to the principle above, memory never comes to be full. Of 
 resorting to writing as a help to the memory. Men will go to 
 extremes 72 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 In reference to reading being a help to the memory. — Remarks 
 on reading. Reading, a great source of information. Effects 
 of fast reading. Reason of this HI* 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 How many people injure the memory. — The memory capable of 
 gaining great strength by proper action. Of laying out all the 
 strength in one direction 91 
 
 CHAPTER VIH« 
 
 }.<.\n 
 
 The actions of oondciouBness in remembering. — Classification of 
 memory and consciousness. Of the will in remembering. Of 
 
vm. 
 
 ^consciousness and the pirt which it fills in remembering. Of 
 the soul's decision. Consciousness has many degrees of 
 action .94 
 
 C^APTER IX. 
 
 "Of the laws of the memory^— The memory is governed by regular 
 established laws. Perception alights, upon the time. Law of 
 relation. Extent of relation. Of relation in the world of 
 mind. Of moral truth. Philosophical truth. Biblical truth* 
 Historical truth. Of attraction and how it applies : 99 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 On Recollection.. ...';.. 108 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Consciousness and derangement| and why. — Of consciousness 
 
 again. Exceptions. Cause of this state of mind* Preventa- 
 
 .*^r- 'Vo- 
 tive 
 
 '.I ■*'»'•.);' 
 
 Ill 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 Causes of the derangement of the memory .-»-0f habit and deislin- 
 ing interest. Of the effects of certain habits through future 
 life.. Of bodily weajsness-^bhe cause •. ^ ......... .114* 
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 
 Iti reference to a nonentity.^Cah we remember a nonentity? 
 We become cons 3iou8 of certain facts. Illustration of the 
 above principles. The same motion cannot be made twice .. . 1.18 
 
94 
 
 )9 
 
 8 
 
 IX. 
 
 ' CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The identity of memory and the lower animals. — Identity of the 
 mode of remembering. The thinking principle in the lower 
 animals, what? Why do not men explain this instinct to which 
 they refer in the lower animals ? Instinct a natural endow- 
 ment. This endowment either matter or mind. ' Why men 
 call the lower animals merely creatures of instinct. The 
 popular definition of instinct. The power of choice in brutes. 
 Preference to happiness a controling principle. What it is 
 that has led men to call the lower animals "only creatures of 
 instinct.'- Afraid to meet the infidel on his own grounds. 
 The ground whicl. each assumes. God's way is the best, what- 
 ever that may be . : .. 122 
 
 CHAPTER XV, 
 
 Immateriality and immortality, and why? — Immateriality of 
 memory. Immateriality no sure proof of immortality. God's 
 power is not limited. The immortality of all depends on the 
 will of the Creator. Immortality of the soul cannot be proved 
 from metaphysical reasoning. Immortality proved only from 
 the Christian Scriptures -v. 136 
 
 CHAPTER'XVI. 
 
 On motion and its laws. — Of physical and intellectual motion. 
 No material object created by the motion of a material body. 
 To perceive a similarity requires a new perception. Remarks 
 on the laws of motion. We say things move by the will of 
 Xjj^od. What do we know about the law of attraction? 142 
 
, X. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 On perceptions, demonstrations, and impossibilities.- — The opera- 
 tions of the memory in perceptions and demonstrations. Can 
 a person know that which is gone out of his mind ? Imposai- 
 bio to know anything which is out of the mind 147 
 
 CHAPTER XVm. 
 
 (IniversJ»lity of the laws of memory. — Memory in all beings 
 <;overned by the same general laws. Why we have discussed 
 this subject at such length IT)! 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 An address to the young. — Rule the first, interest in thint^s. 
 Selections. Economy. Time. Idleness. Accidents 154 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 On the importance of preserving good health. — All desire good 
 health. Physical health contributes to the health of the mind. 
 The object of the.«»e remarks. Be careful what habits you 
 
 contract : . ;i,U wi i!f*U«?Piii : . . 161 
 
 ^ CHAPTER XXI. 
 (containing a few extracts and maxims 
 
 .164 
 
• 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 OP 
 
 THE MEMORY. 
 
 ^HMliM 
 
/ 
 
 /M'HMritif' 
 
 
V- 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 In introducing this littJc work to the public, my principal 
 apology is, should any be desired, or looked for, my ardent 
 dedre to serve, though feebly, the cause of truth. And I con- 
 sider that a thorough knowledge of this great and invaluable 
 principle, especially in so far as it relates either to Natural, 
 Mental, or Moral Philosophy, to be essential to the social, civil, 
 moral and religious happiness of our race. And therefore truth 
 being public property, claims protection from evei^ virtuous 
 mind. Hence whenever truth, which has h direct, or even an 
 indirect bearing upon the intellectual, moral, or religious 
 interests of men, comes to be concealed or distorted, any effort 
 which may be put forth in an honorable way, having 
 due regard to the opinions and feelings of others, with a view 
 to correct mistakes, (through oversight or errors transmitted^ or 
 adopted from others, or originated by themselves,) and present 
 this priceless pearl in i^^s proper dress, and in its real-character is, 
 in the humble opinion of the writer, a sufficient apolc^ for any 
 effort of this kind, even though the object contemplated thereby 
 might not in every respect be secured, or especially, be immedir 
 ately realized. I most frankly confess however that I am not 
 a little astonished at myseif, and it is only natural for me to 
 t^ink that many who might condescend to read this little book, 
 
 •WMMlbMlriWMl 
 
2 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 will wonder at my boldnesa in presuming to diwscnt, especially 
 in 80 public a way, from popular theories which have been ad- 
 vanced by great and learned men, and which have glided grace- 
 fully, rapidly, and easily on the current of popular opinions, 
 from generation to generation, and are brought down 'to the 
 present time, relating to the Philosophy of the Memory. 
 
 1. I have ventured to differ with those who use the term 
 " faculty of the soul" to apply the memory without giving the 
 explanations which the real nature of the case require. The 
 Memory, we admit, is a " faculty of the soul," i. c, if the term 
 " faculty" is understood to mean all the various powers of the 
 soul. But inasmuch as there is a distinction in those powers, 
 and a difference in their dependancy and the degrees of that 
 dependanoy on each other, it comes to be a question whether 
 the simply using of the term " faculty of the soul" to describe 
 the r&ison, imagination or the memory is sufficient to place 
 any one of them in their proper light. If we use the term 
 "faculty of the soul" to the memory, and only use the same 
 term to the perception or consciousness of the soul, without any 
 more explanation than the terms themselves contain, and seeing 
 that the term " faculty" is used to mean the same in kind and 
 degree, in the same individual person at all times, how shall 
 we ever know the difference between an element of the soul, and 
 an act of the soul ? If all the powers of the soul are to be desig- 
 nated faculties, then an explanation of the difference should be 
 given of the different classes of those powers. This however does 
 not come within the limits of my plan. Yet I would venture to ask 
 if percepHon^ coiueiousness, sensation^ and the loi^, do not con- 
 stitute the elements of the soul ? And these, if I were permitted, 
 I would call " faculties of the soul," and the others such as rea- 
 son, imagination, memory, &e., I would call "powers" as they are 
 the result of the action of the other four, but if all must be called 
 " faculties," I have no objection, providing that the distinction 
 
 V 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 d 
 
 
 be kept in mind as it exists in nature. 1. In nature there are 
 tile elements whioh make the soul. 2. There are the powers 
 of the sonl. The men^ory I conceive not to belong to the first 
 class, but to the second. 
 
 2. I have ventured to dissent also, from the popular views 
 in reference to the nature of its office, which is supposed to be 
 to recollect and lay up the thoughts for future use. Much as 
 I esteem the name of Locke, Reed, Watts, Upham, and others 
 who have written on this subject of Mental Philosophy to en- 
 lighten mankind, yet on this point, the memory, I beg to differ 
 from them. And I wish at the same time to show why, and 
 also to show where I think they, and all others who have adopt- 
 ed their theory, have misapprehended the nature and office of 
 the memory. 
 
 I hope that no one will mistake the object of the writer which 
 they surely will if they suppose this work was intended 
 for the learned — ^it is not designed for those deep thinking 
 intellects, and who have given that time and attention to the 
 study of mind which the importance of the subject demands — 
 and who can discriminate minutely between right and wrong — 
 who can compare human experience with metaphysical specula- 
 tions on the nature and office of our intellectual faculties ; but 
 it is for those who have not had these advantages, and conse- 
 quently are not placed in such favourable circumstances. Hence, 
 we have good reason to hope that this effort, weak as it is, and 
 powerless as it necessarily will be on the more intellectual and 
 learned portion of the community because it does not come up 
 to their standard, will not be depreciated by them, seeing it aims 
 af^another class of society. 
 
 It appeared to the writer that notwithstanding much has been 
 ably written on the Philosophy of the inind, yet something more 
 
4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 was needed . to be said on that important power which we call 
 the memory, seeing it has not received, in my opinion its proper 
 share of attention. How far this little book will go towards 
 supplying that deficiency will be for the reader, and not for the 
 writer to determine. 
 
 Those impediments too that stand in the way of an easy and 
 rapid development of our intellectual powers, and those rules 
 for improving the memory r.t which I have glanced, I hope 
 will be carefully examined^ and especially by the youthful 
 reader. 
 
 ' 
 
 I have purposely laboured, according to the best of my ability, 
 to condense my remarks on every topic discussed, so as to say 
 as much as I could in the smallest possible space. This I have 
 done principally, for two reasons. 1st, To save the time both of 
 the reader and writer, and 2d, To save unQCcessary expense. 
 Much more might have been said on almost every point discus- 
 sed especially on some, but we think enough has been said on 
 each particular to fully explain our views on the Philosophy and 
 Identity of the Memory, which is the principal object at which 
 we aim. 
 
 ON 
 
 
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 vid 
 
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 gre 
 tau 
 the 
 ere 
 the 
 the 
 
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 ma 
 
PHILOSOPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE MEMORY 
 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE FREQUENT USE OP THE TERM MEMORY, AND DI- 
 VINE BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 Section 1 .* Memory, The memory is a term of very fre- 
 quent use — of every day occurrence. It is used in many cases, 
 hundreds of times, in one shape or another, by the same indi- 
 vidual in the course of a few hours. And the term memory, 
 has hitherto, and is at the present time used, perhaps, by a 
 great majority of mankind, to represent what they have been 
 taught to believe, and do believe, (if they have any belief about 
 the matter at all) to be a faculty of the soul. In vii'tue of the ex- 
 ercise of this " faculty," all who believe in its existence attribute 
 their knowledge of past events to its influence and action. That 
 there is su^h a power associated with every mind, no matter how 
 ' strong and capacious, or how minute and diminutive that mind 
 may be, to remember the past in a greater or le«s degree, \n a 
 
6 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THK MEMORY. 
 
 truth which will be readily conceded. And this power we dc- 
 •ignate hy the term memory. And with the existence of such 
 a power and its mode of operation there are many things con- 
 nected which-are of the deepest possible interest to every rar 
 tional mind. And things too which authoritatively demand 
 our most sincere attention and ardent investigation — truths 
 indeed of incalculable, yea of infinite worth, but which facts, 
 sentiments, practices, doctrines, &c., notwithstanding their im- 
 portance, without attention, perseverance and deep research, 
 will never appear within the consequent circumscribed sphere 
 of our mental vision in their full and proper light. Indeed 
 the more we look at the action of the memory the more we are 
 astonished at its amazing energies. And although we are com- 
 jparatively lost in the mystery connected with its complicated 
 and astonishingly active operations, yet intimately associated 
 with its origin and peculiar modifications, with all its power, 
 strength and action, may be seen in legible characters by every 
 truly reflecting mind, the indelible impress of Infinite Wisdom, 
 Benevolence and Power. Yes, the benevolence of the great Au- 
 thor of the Universe is most clearly seen, and forcibly felt, 
 while a reflective mind minutely examines the powers and 
 modifications of the memory, fully as much so as in any faculty 
 of the soul. This great truth is one that should not only be 
 appreciated and applied to the purposes of life at the present 
 time, but one that is worthy to accompany us through all the 
 journey of future li& as a suitable companion, » profitable 
 handmaid, a philosophical instructor, a theologicol expositor, 
 and one that will serve, to a mind inclined to piety, to which 
 great practical principle all minds should tend, like water, to a 
 common level, as' a constant stimulant to faith and virtue. The 
 real value, however, that such a sentiment would prove to us, 
 cannot be fully ascertained without a thorough, impartial, and 
 deliberate investigation into its nature ana associatiopis. — 
 Hence, when we speak of the Benevolence, of God in the con- 
 Structiou of the mind, and endowing that mind with a power to 
 remember, that is to say, with a power to know the past, we 
 not only look at the existence of the power by which we go into 
 tji^ past, and the actual and positive advantages which we de- 
 rive from the action of that pmver, but We are inclined also to 
 look at its opposites. In fact, we find it exceedingly profitable . 
 to look ?it those matters of Providential interposition, liot only 
 
 ^ I 
 
> ' 
 
 I I 
 
 PITlLOSorHY Oli; THE MEMORY. 7 
 
 poHitivcly to Hce wliat we are with theiu, but negatively, to see 
 what we would be without them. The very acknowledgment, 
 whether publicly or tacitly, that the mark of Divine Benevo- 
 lence is engraven in the human memory, naturally enough sug- 
 gests to the mind that is open to the force of truth, a train of 
 Uiought something like the following : ^' Had the Almighty 
 seen proper to make man without the capacity to remember, 
 and to continue that existence through a series of generations, 
 what 'might we naturally suppose would have been the conse- 
 quences r' To which we might answer, had man been created 
 without a memory, whatever might have been his other quali- 
 fications or endowments, whatever intellectual or physical ex- 
 cellences he might have possessed or presented, he would after 
 all have been entirely incapacitated to answer the purposes of 
 human life— entirely unfit for either social, civil, intellectual 
 or religious enjoyment. 
 
 Every person knows, I presume, that the enjoyment of civil 
 life depends, in a great measure, upon our knowledge of the 
 civil compact, whidi implies, a knowledge of the science of po- 
 litical government and of the propriety and necessity of a judi- 
 cious civil administration, a knowledge of the customs and 
 usages of nations and the principle on which any law having a 
 general application is founded. Intellectual enjovment de- 
 pends chiefly upon our knowledge of the intellect, its powers 
 and operations, its capacities and the uses to which they may 
 be applied. It implies a knowledge of those laws by which the 
 mind expands, strengthens, and hy which it becomes invigo- 
 rated — a knowledge of the will, the perception, the conscious- 
 ness, the judgment ; also the moral faculty and its ofiice in the 
 soul, a knowledge of the motives, the desires and the actions, 
 with a knowledge of the memory which reveals them. Social 
 enjoyment is derived from a knowledge of others, their dispo- 
 sition and qualities j frqp tjie presence of others, their man- 
 tiers and conversation, all of which brings us into the past. 
 And evesry person can see that there can be no religious enjoy- 
 )aient without aratitude^ which vi,itue is a legitimate offspring 
 bf our knowledge of the past. ' Or, in other words, which pej;- 
 baps will be more comprehensive, we would say, fiad we no 
 power to remember we could possess no grateful feeling »nd 
 if we are riot grateful we are not religious. So that althougji 
 
Q 
 
 viuiomvn\ oT Tin: memouy. 
 
 we iiKil boon made iiitolkclual beings, aiul with a moral faculty 
 u6 wo now Are, }'ct, bfing at the eaiuc time destitute of memory 
 the moral sense would have been nearly, if not altogether, uee- 
 lees. Hero let me observe, and, ! may this truth be deeply 
 impressed on the youthful reader who may peruse this little 
 book, that, if there were no other argument to be found within 
 the wide range of the human mind to prove a wise and benevo- 
 lent dcs>ip:n in the formation of man, the existence of the me- 
 mory, i's amazing energies, its inooncoivablv rapid movements, 
 its numerous lawn, their actions and the oflfects of them on the 
 emotions and upon every sense and power of the soul, thitt 
 would be BujUiclciit. 
 
 Facts of thiB kind, which are within the reach of nil, and 
 which are to be seen too in such vast numbers and so groat in 
 their magnitude, by the simplest process of reasoning, suggested 
 by observation, and drawn from this source alone, must surely 
 be sufficient to bring pungent conviction to the most sceptical 
 mind, if he would but take time and pains to invesj-lgate, or, 
 in other words, if he will but refrain from offering violent resii^t- 
 ance to its force, that we have in the human memory an ampli- 
 tude of ever living and irresistible arguments as clearly demon- 
 strated, that Infinite wisdom, benevolence and goodness, as 
 well as Infinite power, are seen in the formation of memory, as 
 any demonstration ever was or ever will be. And from its uni- 
 form and constantly active operations, we know, with as much 
 certainty as we know that we exist, that it is constantly 
 adding to the social, intellectual and moral hat^pincss of all 
 who are disposed to act from right principles. Therefore it 
 was given to us for a wise and gracious purpose. This is the 
 only legitimate and rational conclusion to which we can come ; 
 consequently we conceive the opposite of this to be false. 
 
 Sec. 2 .* Important of understanding the nature and 
 Btrenoth of the Memory. The fact that there is something 
 withm us that tells us, in language which we cannot fail to 
 understand, that we lived yesterday, or that we have been in a 
 certain place, and that we have been in such and such circum- 
 stances, ten, twenty, thirty, or fifty years ago, as the case may 
 be, ra a fact as universally acknowledged as the existence of that 
 consciousness which tells us that we live at the present tiine. 
 
 .. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THK MEMORY. 
 
 9 
 
 Thu Homething that telb ub these things is what we call memory. 
 Aud yet it does wpear, notwithstanding the universal cxistcnoe, 
 aod tao uniyersal acknowledgment of the exiHtenue of that oper- 
 ative iomething, to be a fact and a lamentable one too, that the 
 nature of the memory, and the laws which govern it is a sub- 
 ject V ith which the great majority of men, even in this 
 age oi'light and intellectual improvement are no better acquaint- 
 ed than an untaught pagan is with the science of Scriptural 
 Theolc^, and the practical working of Gospel truth. In fact 
 this subject, the " Philosophy of the Memoi^" notwithstanding 
 its importance, and how deeply it ought to interest every intc^ 
 leotual ai)d moral being, seems to the great majority to have no 
 beauties in it that they should desire a knowledge of its practi- 
 cal workings. And being so indifferent to tho nature of the 
 memory they will use but little effort to become acquainted 
 with the laws which govern it, and are therefore ignoran,t pf its 
 powers. In oomioquonce of this indifference, and unpardonable 
 Ignorance, they soon become through this neglect, doomed to 
 vacillation and doubt in regard to the past, and perplexed, with 
 fears, and wild in their calculations for the future, are necess- 
 arily un^ucce3sful more or less in their business, and as a 
 natural consequence do entail upon themselves, and frequently 
 upon their posterity, an incalculable amount of physical and 
 mental suffering, which a little intellectual industry and pre- 
 caution might have prevented. If this is true, it follows as a 
 matter of course that it is a duty which we owe to ourselves 
 and to others, apd which cannot be neglected with impunity, 
 to labour hard and spare no pains to understand the philosophy 
 of the memory, its capacity and its use. Hence, it becomes an 
 imperative duty from personal considerations of intellectual and 
 pecuniary advantages, to prize the memory highly, to foster it 
 oarefullv, to strengthen it by action, to employ it constantly, 
 and so improve it. And yet were we obliged to resort to argu- 
 ments and incentives remote from all personal eonsiderations, 
 the very fact of having power to remember is sufficient to attract 
 the attention of all rational intelligences, to excite their admi- 
 ration, and also to increase the gratitude* of every one ^ho 
 values, a^o ought, the free and inestimable gifts of God. 
 
 Sec.S.\ The action of the Memory. When we say that 
 there is no power of the mind more active than the memory, 
 
 } 
 
lo 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MExMORY. 
 
 ■ 
 
 we not only speak a great philosophical truth, but we speak 
 also the experience of every rational being. For we know it is 
 almost constantly operating during our waking moments, and 
 frequently when we are asleep. We also know that we are ' 
 continually depending upon this source, and upon this alone 
 for all the knowledge we gather from the past. And the greatest 
 part of the knowledge which we possess comes from the past, 
 indeed I cannot perceive how it is possible to know anything, 
 that is, in the ordinary way of getting knowledge, unless it is 
 derived from the past. It is true, we might, and would, have 
 present perceptions, but they are fleeting as the moments, and 
 are constantly passing away on the wings of time, or in othe^ 
 words, we are constantly pnsing away from them. The truth 
 of this, and the natural force of this truth will be easily enough 
 perceived by any one who might be disposed to watch intently 
 the actions of his own mind for the short space of five minutes. 
 It will be seen, and the fact will be felt, and an honest man 
 will be forced to confess that we cannot hold before the mind 
 one truth, be the same great or small, not even for the space of 
 one moment, or a second, or the thousandth part of a second. 
 These events, whatever may be their nature, will remain in the 
 paiit the only possible sphere of their existence, and we can no 
 more hold them than we can arrest the progress of time, op 
 the motion of the earth. So that the scenes of the present, 
 however much we may be interested in them, exist only in the 
 past when that moment which first produced them is gone, or 
 more properly speaking yhen we are gone from it. And as all 
 yreaent time is so fleeting, and passes from us with such ra- 
 pidity and does not afford sufiicient material from which to 
 draw what information we require for the purposes of life, and 
 as past time is so much more abundant and fruitful in events, 
 we necessarily have to resort to it^ And though this moment 
 which is now present time, will never, so long as eternal ages 
 roll their rounds, be present time again, but will always be past 
 time, yet we can have access to it, however remote that particle 
 of time may be, ^and at our leisure, by the helps of the 
 memory, we can draw information, fully reliable, ^d of the 
 most important and useful character. In view of these indis- 
 putable facts, it must appear more or less interesting to every 
 intelligent being to be able to know the process by which the 
 
 memi 
 shall 
 
 si 
 pore 
 he hi 
 "faol 
 made 
 the si 
 of it, J 
 by w| 
 sphei 
 
 •\ 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY, 
 
 11 
 
 memory makes us acquainted with the past. This process we 
 shall endeavour hereafter to explain. 
 
 Sec. 4 .• A power in u$ hy which we think. Now, as every 
 person knows he has a power by which he thinks, that is to say, 
 he has a power, which we frequently designate hy the term 
 "faculty" by which certain impressions called "ideas" are 
 made, and are being constantly made, which we call thoughts ; 
 the simple meaning of this is, according to our understanding 
 of it, that we have a faculty in us, and which is born with us, 
 by which we perceive present events that are within our own 
 sphere of action. And it is equally true, and equally clear to 
 the most ordinary conception, and consequently as readily dis- 
 covered, and adniitted, that the mind has also a power to per- 
 ceive the past. Now that intellectual state in which the mind 
 is found while perceiving the past, we commonly represent by 
 the term remembering. This tei*m "remembering" is under- 
 stood by some to represent a peculiar action of the mind, in 
 the past, by Which action it recollects, or gathers together the 
 events which exist in any given space of past time ; but the 
 use we intend to make of the term "remember" is to express the 
 reperoeption of any event, or of any specific number of events, 
 without any reference to this supposed collecting of thoughts by 
 literally gathering them, and placing them in juxtaposition., 
 And therefore "remembering" is a term which we design to 
 use, for the following purposes, and no other, viz. : to represent 
 two distinct states of mind, namely, perception of that which is 
 in the past, and a consciousness that the thing so perceived has. 
 been, or has not been, as the case may be, perceived by the 
 mind before. 
 
 Sec, 6 ; ' 0/ the use and applicati(yii of different terms tty. 
 the memory. This mental state which we call "remembering" 
 like everything else in nature is represented by diiFerent terms, 
 and considering that words are only signs of our thoughts, and 
 are always used to represent our perceptions to others, whether 
 these perceptions are in the present or in the past, and are also 
 quite arbitrary m their rule of action, it will make but little 
 differe&oe what words we use, providing nevertheless they fully 
 express, according to the general meaning and application of 
 words, the nature of our perceptions. But when any term or 
 
 riMa 
 
12 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MKMORV. 
 
 any number of terms obtain common consent by the approba- 
 tion of public opinion as being proper to apply to such and such 
 things, when they are not thus applied we who make a part of 
 the public who have approved of such application, cannot but 
 fed that we have just cause of complaint. For it must l)e 
 obvious to all, that when words are used which do not express 
 the real nature of our perceptions, they are calculated to perplex 
 and embarrass both our own minds and the minds of others, 
 and it will tend to lead us from the truth instead of directing 
 us to the truth. It happens sometimes with writers and public 
 speakers that half a dozen or perhaps a dozen words are used 
 where one word would answer every purpose, both for explana^ 
 tion and application. This we would call tautology, repetition 
 or a useless multiplication of words. And we look upon this 
 practice as not only unpleasant to the eye of the reader, or 
 offensive to the ear of the hearer, but one for which the more 
 intelligent part of mankind feel unwilling to make any allowance, 
 or to receive any apology, or extend any pardon. If then the 
 useless repetition of words, for the purpose of making: a long 
 discourse, or a large book, excite our displeasure, how much 
 more so should we feel to dissent from the practice of misap- 
 plying words, and calling things by wrong names, and which 
 also have not obtained public consent ? If for example, I should 
 say that I sat at my writing desk and call my children, who all 
 obey that call and rally around me, so that I have them all 
 before me at once, the words which J have used arc such as 
 would justify every person to suppose that my children heard 
 my voice and left their various occupations, the one lays down 
 his book, another his top, and a third his composition and 
 actjially comes to the place where I was sittingT^hat else could 
 any one suppose ? Now, it turns out that they, the public, 
 have misapprehended my meaning, because instead of their 
 coming to me^ I wished to be understood to mean, by what I 
 saiid, that T wont to each of them, in this and all similar cafees 
 the public are not in fault, but I am in fault, because the very 
 words that I have used, and the manner in which I have used 
 them, would lead to no other conclusion than, that th^ came 
 to me, whereas / went to them. I would therefore observe, 
 with all defferenee to those great men, that the language of 
 some writers on the Philosophy of the mind, is calculated to 
 lead the illiterate to the same conclusion, that is. the opposite 
 
 maataammmm 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 13 
 
 of the truth, and to embarrass, to perplex, and confuse then<, 
 instead of helping them. And therefore persons who write for 
 the public, or who speak to the public, as teachers, should be 
 careful never to misapply words whose meaning have become 
 eetablished by common consent on the plea that "words are 
 arbitrary," or that the wise and learned will underst>and the use 
 of words from the " tenor of the discourse." It is not for the 
 wise we write, but to instruct the ignorant, therefore words 
 which express the simple naked truth, languiige that will come 
 down to the illiterate, even to the child, should not be con- 
 sidered beneath the dignity of any mind however strong he may 
 be, whose object is to enlighten his fellow beings, and defend 
 the cause of truth. 
 
 Sec. 6: 0/wordSy ofjiguresjandof/acts. It is a truth 
 which is readily admitted that we can speak but seldom, on 
 any subject, that is long enough to be called a conversation, 
 without using comparative terms, or accomodated phrases. But 
 though we claim this right, which public opinion has granted 
 in ail ages, to use such expressions, we must still bear in mind 
 that our latitude even in this respect shoidd be bounded by 
 common consent, and the sense oS the subject. Hence, when 
 we have a knowledge of any particular portion 6f the past, we 
 merely say for brevity sake, "we remember" which term is not 
 only perfectly harmless, but quite appropriate because it merely 
 expresses our knowledge of the past without any reference to 
 the mental process or mode of action by which we obtain such 
 knowledge. But to use the following popular phrases com- 
 monly used by scientific men is, notwithstanding unwarrantable 
 because it does not, and indeed cannot express or lead an illiter- 
 ate person to form anything like a just idea of the action of 
 the mind in remembering. The expression to which we allude 
 is this : "when we remember we called from the deposit of the 
 mind those thoughi:s which are there laid aside fo^ future use." 
 Now, this manner of speaking, though very common, and also 
 very popular, does not express the nature of the memory and 
 its mode of operation, any more than it expi'esses the nature 
 and uses of a crowbar, [or explains the mystery of the philoso- 
 pher's stone. For whatever might have been the idea which 
 those learned men entertained in reference to the nature and 
 mode of operation of the memory, the words which they use, 
 
 B 
 
14 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 tiieir manner of expression is oalculated to misrepresent its real 
 nature, and its natural mode of operation. Because, the ex- 
 planation of the memory, and its manner of operation as given 
 hy them in this quotation which in substance is this : that the 
 office of the jnemory is to lay aside those thoughts which oome 
 under the mind's notice and call thetm up as occasion may 
 require. 
 
 This explanation of the memory and its mode of operation 
 as given above, has been, and still is,, regarded as satisfactory 
 by the generality of men. The principal reason appears to be 
 that, like many other things of equal, and some, if it is possible, 
 of paramount importance, it has been received on trust rather 
 than go to the necessary trouble of investigating into its pro- 
 priety and truthfulness. And as the knowledge of Philosophy 
 and literature have been for centuries past .princip^y confindd 
 to the higher schools^ and is yet to some considerable extent, 
 although in this respect the present age is very far;ln advance .of 
 the past, yet there is ^Ibutra small proportion of mankind,: 
 that have access to those higher institutions where the sciences 
 are taught with that facility, and to that perfection as to fully 
 meet the wants of men. And as the mass of men in every ag| 
 and country, have either been contented to remain in ignorance 
 altogether, or take on trust the speculations and Metaphysical 
 explanations of those who had aspired to higher professions, and 
 in a great measure, it is so still, therefore the explanation of 
 the memory now under consideration, and to which we objeot,ha8 
 liitherto been satisfactory, and still is, so far as our knowledge 
 Dxtends. We have taken the liberty at different times to intro- 
 duce the question, for the purpose of information, but have not 
 had the good fortune, as yet, to find one person who has given 
 sufficient attention to the subject to enable him ta detect the 
 popular error to which I allude, nnd it is difficult so far as my 
 experience goes to find any one who has thoroughly investigated 
 the Philosophy of the meinory, so as to enable him to give a 
 satisfactory explanation of its nature and office, in any other 
 way than by adopting the thoi^hts and theories of others. We 
 repeat it, that we have never, not even once in our life,, heard 
 the "rnilosophy of the explanations of the memory" as given 
 above, called in question. It has passed down from the father 
 to the son, from the teacher to his tcholars, from generation to 
 
 t 
 
 1^ 
 
 \ 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOBY. 
 
 15 
 
 generation/ as an established truth in its stereotyped form, no 
 one appears to intercept its progress, and it claims universal 
 homage, prinoipally on the ground of its antiquity, and the claim 
 is almost universally obeyed. 
 
 We often read, and hear, from the social circle, the pulpit 
 and the lecture-room, of thoughts " laid in the memory," or 
 thoughts laid in the " countless chambers of the brain," but no 
 one has ever attempted to explain, or even professes to be able 
 to explain to us what this laying aside means ; no one who 
 adopts this theory has as yet been kind enough to show man- 
 kind the proper place of their deposit. They tell us, it is 
 ttVLQ, that they speak figuratively, biu what satisfaction is this 
 to unlearned people? But are men justified in using a figure 
 and living in profound ignorance of the relative fact? If 
 thoughts laid aside in the ^' countless chambers of the brain" is 
 used as a figure, we have no objection, providing it is so ex- 
 plained and so understood. Men have a right to Tifie figures, 
 but then these figures are designed to represent facts, and 
 every one who hears the figure has a right to enquire after the 
 fkot. It is the fact we desire ; figures are good, but facts are 
 better. And for any one to write or speak in ironies, hyper- 
 boles, or figures, and have no facts, is to spend his precious 
 strength for naught, like one who beateth the air. And it is a 
 little remarkable that those who have dealt so freely and fluent- 
 ly in what they call figures, have not seen fit to give us the 
 fact at all. This would lead us to conclude that there is no 
 fact to which the figure will apply. 
 
 When we say that the wicked man shall be cast into the bot- 
 tomless pit, we use a figure, and a very strong one, and we are 
 justified in the use of it because it is in the bible ; but the same 
 good t)Ook suggests to us its corresponding fact: where is it? 
 We answer, in this, that he shall be shut out of heaven and shall 
 be sensibly confined in eternity. When we say that wicked 
 men shall suffer the fire of hell and brimstofi^, we use a figure, 
 but we have an idea at the same time of its corresponding fact, 
 tfatt Is, that they shall be punished extremely in another world. 
 Ill like manner when w^ speak of good men receiving and wear- 
 ily A ^^erotm" on their heads in Another state of existence, and 
 " palms in their hands/Und dwelling in a city whose streets are 
 
16 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 
 of pure i^old, &c., we make use of a figure, and where is the fact ? 
 Wo answer, the crown is descriptive of honour, the palm of vic- 
 tory, golden streets, of a glorious residence, &o. Now, in speak- 
 ing of the mind of man, that thoughts are laid in the mind, or in 
 the memory, or especially when xve say they are laid in the brain, 
 it is not sufficient to say " we use a figure," supposing that this 
 willjustifyfor the latitude we use, and the liberties we take with 
 language, unless we can show, especially when called upon to do 
 so, something like corresponding facts. 
 
 Now, memory, as we before remarked, is that power of the 
 mind by which we come to know things that have passed under 
 our former observation. And thoughts in the memory, if any 
 meaning can attach to it at all, must surely mean thoughts before 
 the mind. Now, there is no difference that I can perceive be- 
 tween the expression " thoughts before the mind," and thoughts 
 that are " present to the mind." If, then, those thoughts that 
 are ** laid in the memory," means the same as thoughts " before 
 the mind," and thoughts before the mind means thoughts that 
 p;re present to the mind, it would follow as a neoessarr conse- 
 quence, that the mind must have a knowledge of all those 
 thoughts said to be laid in the memory. On this principle of ar- 
 gument it will be seen that no circumstance that has ever oome 
 under the mind's observation can possibly be forgotten. Be- 
 cause if the theory i» correct that thoughts are to be laid in the 
 mind, and thoughts that are forgotten are to be laid in the m€^ 
 mory, thpse that are not forgotten, of. course, are also present to 
 the mind. And if those that are forgotten are laid up in the me- 
 mory, that is the same as to be " laid up in the mind," conse- 
 quently they would all be present to the mind. It is something 
 strange that those close thinkers who have made such great dis- 
 coveries, and bro\]^ht tol ight so many interesting truths relat- 
 ing to mental philosophy, should have failed to see these palpa- 
 ble inconsistencies. The inconsistency of this theory to which 
 we allude may be seen by a simple process of argument, com- 
 mencing at the proposition that memory implies a ''calling up of 
 the thoughts that are laid in the mind," we shall soon be forced 
 to the conclusion that a man can forget nothing. And yet this 
 conclusion, to which wo must arrive, will be such as contradiots 
 the experience of all men. Because it m universally aokoow- 
 Icdged that a very great part of those things which come undier 
 
PHIliOSOPHY OF THE MEMOIIY. 
 
 17 
 
 our observation, come to be lost sight of by the mind, and con«e- 
 qxiently forgotten for the time being, and many of them are 
 never perceived again. Hence, it comes to be an acknowledged 
 fact in our experience, that some thoughts, that is to say, »ome 
 perc^tions, which we have had, and we know that we have had 
 such perceptions in times pa^t, not because we can now peroeive 
 them in detail, for tliat would be to have them as before, but we 
 have a consciousness of a kind of outline, although we have for- 
 gotten the minute particulars, which we may not perceive again 
 tbr years, and perhaps never. Now, as these thoughts, 
 whether they be few or many, great or small, of great impor- 
 tance or of no consequence, are forgotten, they are therefore 
 not remembered, and if they are not remembered they are 
 not present to the mind ; and if they are not present to the 
 mind they are not laid up in the mind. Our intention, how- 
 ever, for the present, is to confine our enquiry more particu- 
 larly to those thoughts that appear to' return to the mind at 
 certain intervals, or, in other words, to enquire how the soul 
 obtains a knowledge of events that have so long ago transpired, 
 and whether it can or eaniiot be said of them that they are 
 shelved up in the memory. 
 
18 
 
 PHII^OSOPHY OF TIIK MEMORY. 
 
 t 
 
 f* 
 
 . CHAPTER II. 
 
 OF TH£ POSITION OF THOUQHTS WH]SN THET ARE 
 
 FORGOTTEN. - 
 
 
 Sec, 1 ; Thoughts not shelved up in the memory. To un- 
 derstand this matter correctly we will need to be very explicit, 
 and perhaps may have to^indulge in a little repetition. There- 
 fore we would remark that the business of the memory is to 
 take cognisance of the past, as it has nothing to do with the 
 present, nor , :with the i^ture. , And no power of the spul can 
 noticey perceive, and know the past put the memory. But this 
 does know the past. And if memory implies to know the past, 
 and if to know the pa^t implies the^ calling up of those thoughts 
 that have been "deposited in the memory," the mind must of 
 necessity have a consciousness of their deposit, viz. must know 
 the place where they are laid, as well as the number of those 
 thoughts deposited, and also the proportionate strength and 
 nature of each thought. This, so far as we are able to perceive 
 must be the case, unless it were possible for thoughts to exist 
 in the mind, of which the mind at the same time has no know- 
 ledge. Should it be urged that thoughts can exist in the 
 mind of which the mind has no knowledge, the query would 
 then be how any man could convince himself that thoughts 
 exist in his mind about which he knows nothing, of which he 
 has no consciousness whatever. It looks to me that a man 
 would find himself as much embarrassed, and perplexed in 
 attempting to convince himself of a proposition of this kind 
 being true, as he would be, should he attempt to convince him- 
 self that he is not the same man that he is, but that he is another 
 man altogether. And he would, were he to test both by his own 
 original powers, meet with no more success in the first proposi- 
 tion, than he would in the last. Now, the same obstacles, both in 
 regard to number and magnitude would exist, were we to attempt 
 the same imposition on any other person, who is capable of appro- 
 

 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOllY. 
 
 ly 
 
 M 
 
 elating an argument, and has deeision enough to chose the right 
 and reject the wrong, because the theory, which we here repudi- 
 ate, beipg 80 completely destitute of proof, he who adopts it must 
 lail when it is brought to the test, seeing ho cannot appeal to 
 the judgmQPt; or consciousness of himself, or those of any 
 other jpersoia^ with the least chance of success. I^o say that 
 thotiiguis ciriB "laid up ia the memory" merely because a certain 
 train of tJb[oughts wHch we once had and have forgotten for a con- 
 siderable Ipp^th of time, perhaps several years,appear again to the 
 mind, thatls, come again under the mind's observation, proves 
 nothing to the point, so far as we can perceive. NeitJber would 
 an assertion of this kind, that " thoughts are laid up in the 
 memory" because they appear again after having been forgotten, 
 a]?ord tlie least satisfaption, or be in the least appreciated as an 
 a^gliment, but wpuld t)«i. looked upon oiily in the light of a 
 detclpat^tion, by any jperson who is accustomed to look into the 
 natu^rd of things a^ judge .for himself. To say that thought 
 |cu« iii,ihe> inemory^ and at the same time are not pi:esent to the 
 mincT, ,i|^ in'fpjb^t^oe Ijli^isan^e as if we should say we remember 
 that If Hch is noi pr^i^t to the mind. And in fact every one 
 tacitly admits this who. lipids to the doctrine of shelving up in 
 the ipemory, thoughts^or future use. This beii]g shelved up 
 sef^ to iittply^ that;vriiil®^key are "shelved up" they are forgot- 
 ten, wl^ch is just, as i^uch of a oontradiction as it would be to 
 say ; we remiember that which we have forgotten, we know that 
 which we*do not know, we perceive that which we dp not per- 
 ceive, we feel that of which we have no sensation. It must be 
 obvious to evei^y person, who will reflect a uxpment, that thoughts 
 which we do not now remember^ although they were once pres- 
 ei^t to the mind, and at which time we, had a knowledge of them, 
 bepa\ise we perceived them ; yet the soul has no more know- 
 ledge of them noM7 seeing it does not remember them, than 
 it has of perceptions which it never had. The question 
 then which we need to understand is this : Do these thoughts, 
 while they are forgotten, lay in any department of the mind? 
 To this we answer, if they do we conceive it is possible to find 
 them out, although, this can only be done by the person himself, 
 yet surely it oan be done by him if ^ey lay on his mind, as it 
 IS »4d tb^ose ihoui^hts do that are forgotten. To {^dli^it the 
 oppodte would 1^ fatal to our moral accountability, because, if 
 one class pf thought^ are in the mind of whicK.^^ul Js not 
 
 .^.. 
 
20 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOHY. 
 
 'conscious, why should there not be another clasfl in iha game 
 position ? And if thoughts lay in the mind of which we are not 
 oonscious of their exsitence, we of course would be ignorant of 
 their nature, whether they-are good or bad, and therefove could 
 not with any degree of justice be held accountable for such men- 
 tal operations. Therefore the doctrine that teachee that thjoushts 
 which are forgotten are laid in the memory, we conceive to be a 
 great philosophical error, and one which, wnen properly investi- 
 «ited, if fully believed must effect, more or less, our belief in the 
 Christian Scriptures, the Goodness of God, and our conduct 
 towards him. 
 
 Sec. 2 ; Thouahta forgotten. Thoughts which we have 
 . forgotten appear to be nothing more or less than events or circum- 
 stances, which were once present, but when forgotten are absent 
 from the mind, or more properly speaking the mind is absent, 
 viz : it leaves them. And this appears to be ihe view which the 
 mind is naturally inclined to t^e of it when it exerdses its 
 own original powers free from any previous bias. Such ex- 
 pressions for example, as the following, when reference is made 
 to us of past events which we know were once observed by some 
 one present, the person to whom the reference li made, if he has 
 forgotten the circunistance at once makes use of the very familiar 
 and common sense phrase, " the thing is out of my mind," or, 
 "it has escaped mv mind." The first is philosophically correct, 
 the second is designed to convey the same idea, but must be 
 understood to mean the opposite of what it savs, viz : when we 
 say "it" "the thought has escaped my mind the expression 
 gives action to the past thought, as if it had actually run away 
 from the mind, whereas the truth is, that the mind has gone 
 away /row that. "We say, when we have forgotten any thing 
 that, "we have no knowledge of it at present." And this is the 
 fact in reference to that thing which we have forgotten. This 
 being our experience, the idea that these things, thotights, are 
 all the while in the " memory" safely deposuced for future use, 
 we see, is, repudiated by the common sense expression of every 
 man, who explains his own mental operations by his own origin- 
 ality, in his own common sense way. And when we listen to the 
 jumbled mass of half digested thoughts of a certain clapft of public 
 speakers, how much inclined, with their adopted coWec^on of 
 metaphysical declamations, they are to display their vocabulary 
 
 ijiv 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 1 
 d 
 e 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 21 
 
 of words, whioh exoito tho astonishinetit of the ignorant, and the 
 indignation of tho wise, did we not know that uey live entirely 
 on borrowed oapital, we should be inclined to think, if not tempt- 
 ed to say to Bu<m, '' much learning hath made thee mad." 
 
 Sec. 3 : Where are the thought* we have forgotten f Tho 
 question therefore still remains to be answered, whore are those 
 thoughts whioh were ouoe present to tho mind, of which we, 
 at the present time, have no knowledge ? To this we answer, 
 they cannot be in the memory, as the popular opinion goes to 
 I say, for if this were the case they would be in the mind. For 
 
 ^ the memory, as we shall show hereafter, is not only in tho 
 
 mind, and identified with the acts of perception and conscious- 
 ncM in the past, but constitutes an essentiiu power of our intel- 
 lectual existence. We feel upon remembenng, and those feel- 
 ings we naturally express in the plainest possible way that we 
 know, when we remember, that is to say, we know now^ this 
 present moment, what we did not know a few momenta ago. 
 And why do we know it now ? Not because it has been 
 called up from its ceU in the ^' memory," but because it is jiow 
 at the time of being remembered, within the reach and under 
 tho notice of the memory. To speak in plain facts, and ac- 
 cording to the true philosophy of the case, it would be appro- 
 priate to say that the memory has now como to the said event 
 or circumstance, and not that the ciroumstauco has now come 
 to the memory. 
 
 iSV. 4 ; Propositions. Perhaps tho foilowiag propositions 
 would better enable us to bring before tho reader an appropriate 
 train of thoughts that will aid in the better understanding of 
 the nature of memory. The propositions that we will intro- 
 duce are three, viz: (I) That those thoughts which were 
 once before the mind but are 7iow forgotten, cease to be as the 
 mind leaves them ; or, (2) They exist in some department of 
 the mind ; (3) Or else they exist beyond the boundary of the 
 mind. If therefore one of these threo propositions be true, 
 and only one of them, and if wc can show either two of them 
 to be false, and only twe of them to be false, then the other re- 
 maining one will be the true one, and consequently the one on 
 which wo cau confidently rely. 
 
 
 ^/ 
 
22 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 To suppose that tlie individual thoughts of a man oxint be- 
 yond the boundary o^i* his soul, and thoughts too, of which the 
 man has no knowledge, for he can know nothing beyond his 
 bounds, would bo to introduce something " new under the sun," 
 a strange doctrine indeed, and so strange and so inconsistent in 
 its nature, that no person who would allow himself to think at 
 all on its reasonableness, could for one moment suppose it to 
 be true. For although it might be said that H cannot be 
 proved that thoughts do not exist beyond the boundary of 
 the soul, and from that urge the possibility of such existence, 
 at the same time it should be remembered that this would only 
 assume the character of a quibble. And supx)8e wo 
 should admit, say for the sake of argument, the possi lility of 
 the thoughts of a man existing beydhd the bounds of h.s soul's 
 existence, this admission would be very far from proving the 
 thing to be a fact, which is necessary to be done before wo 
 could adopt it as an opinion ; at all events, we wbttld need to 
 prove the possibility of the thing in order to justify such an 
 opinion. But let it be remembered that the position whieh we 
 take lays us under no obligation to prOve, or even to make any 
 attempt to prove, such a negative proposition as this, "that we 
 cannot prove that thoughts do not exist beyond the bounds of the 
 soul's existence." But those who wish to introduce objeotions 
 of this kind and draw infeVences from the negative, would, in 
 my opinion, to maintain a character as honest reaso'ners, be 
 bound to prove the positive, that thoughts do so exist. For 
 although it might appear at first sight to be destitute of proof 
 on bbth sides, yet it will appear, upon more mature considera- 
 tion, that there is, if not what might be OftUed a positive, yet a 
 very strong presumptive evidence, thai the position which we 
 have assumed is correct. 
 
 tl 
 e 
 
 n 
 
 I 
 
 To suppose, for example, that thoughts exist beyond the 
 boundary of the soul's sphere of action, would of course be 
 equal to the supposition that they exist without the soul. And 
 if they exist without the soul they would be independent, of the 
 soul, and corilsequently could not in any sense whatever, that I 
 can perceive, be considered the thoughtfi of the sotfl. So that 
 it comes to be a proof after all that a man's thoughts do not 
 exist beyond the boundary of his soul's existence, because, if 
 that were admitted it would imply a contradiction, for such 
 
 t 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 23 
 
 
 thoughts oould not bo the man'M thoughts, ond theroforo if 
 existing at all as wo have supposed, they must be separate ex- 
 istenoes, or parts of some other beings. In addition to what 
 has been said on this topio, I wish to observe that the doetrine 
 which teaches the existence of thought, either ia any depart- 
 ment of the mind, or beyond the boundary of the soul, in 
 virtue of any law of the memory, or resulting from any aot 
 thereof is, to say the leasts exceedingly questionable^ which we 
 think we will be able to show more fully hereafter. 
 
 -t • . 
 
 Sec. 5 ; Do thoughts exist heijond the sphere of the souVs 
 action ? The intimations which wc have given above would not 
 be satisfactory, nor yet shall the explanatory observations which 
 we have made in reference to the nature of the memory, unless 
 we are able to sho\^ more *' My what its real nature is. In 
 this line of argument wo Hhu.i continue to proceed, but in tiie 
 meanwhile the reader will bear in mind that but one proposition 
 out of the three has been tliscussed. But we purpose now more 
 particularly^ though as V . leiiy as possible, so a.s to be understood, 
 to discuss the second pt jposition, that is, relative to the memory 
 implying a deposit of thought. . 
 
 See. 6: Memory said to imply a resurrection o/thouglit. 
 We eonceive that memory is not, as many havS i<upposed, a 
 "resurrection of thought." For a resurrection of thought 
 would seem to imply : 1, That those thoughts, so raised, were 
 once in being and in action as individual things. 2, That 
 they must have ceased to exist, and of course to act, and accord- 
 ing to our views of death, they must have literally died. 3, 
 That those identical thoughts come to be revived and literally 
 brought up from the dead. Now, it should be observed that if 
 those thoughts which we once had, and have now forgotten, 
 have ever died, and are literally dead, the conclusion is legiti- 
 miate andu'navoidable, that they once did possess life, and that 
 too before this death took place. If therefore these thoughts 
 that are in the past are dead, we know as positively as we can 
 know anything that ioe are now alive; Therefore, to admit 
 that those thoughts that are in the past are dead,'and can be 
 raised from the dead, and that we can positively live, and. do 
 live, whether those thoughts remain dead, or are brou^t again 
 to life, to say the least it would intimate that thought is som^ 
 
24 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 thing existing, djing, and then again raised from the dead, &c. 
 all in the abstract, and separate &om the intelleetual existenoe 
 of the man, after the first intelleoinal act which produced the 
 thmight in the first place. If this theory should jprove to be 
 correct, then thotight is a something which can exist without 
 the soul, just about as possible in our opinion, as it is for the 
 blood to circulate without a body. The conelusion to which 
 we have now arrived is such as will justify us in detaining the 
 reader a moment or two, for the purpose' of enquiring into the 
 j^robable nature of thought, admitting those that are for^ 
 gotten to be dead. 
 
 If then it ia a philosophical truth that thoughts that are for- 
 gotten are dead, and also that they were once alive, it is also 
 an undeniable fact that thought is, instead of being what we 
 have hitherto conceived it to be, a something which is com- 
 posed of particles of mattor so constructed and putced, either by 
 the hand of the Divine Being directly applied, or in virtue of 
 regular laws made and provided by the same Almighty hand, 
 as to form by their co-operation an active and vital existence, 
 that can enter and pass through the deepest water, penetrate 
 the hardest rock, soar to the highest star, that can enter through 
 skin, blood, and bone, and operate for a while on the brain, and 
 then hasten tcTits destiny the chamber of death, where it must 
 lay in quiet and undisturbed till it is raised by some irrenst- 
 ible power. Or else it must be made up of particles of iimme- 
 teriality, or of both, in something which is made of matter and 
 mind, but in either case it must be subject to a perpetual 
 exchange of life and death. But it is scarcely possible to sup- 
 pose, that but few, if any one at all, would be willing to enter- 
 tain an opinion so derogatory to the Divine government, if 
 they will but give themselves time to think, as to believe this 
 will bear any resemblance to a just and proper description of 
 the nature of memory. Because, this description of memory 
 would, as we before intimated, suppose thought to be an indi- 
 vidual something existing principally of itself For if the mind 
 can* live and act, when thought which it once had is dead, which 
 it does, if they are dead when they are forgotten, then it would 
 go to prove that th(night which has been once under the mind's 
 observation, and it is not thought at all till that time, and 
 ^mes to be rsjised from the dead, is a separate, individual ex- 
 
 .. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOKY. 
 
 25 
 
 istence. But another difficulty that grows out of the idea that 
 thought exists in the abstract, and subject to death, which it 
 must be if it is subject to a resurrection, is this : thought being 
 subject to death would imply organization,* and this means 
 something made up of parts, which imply youth, maturity, and 
 old age, as well as death. Now, this idea of physical growth, 
 and diminution and death, when applied to the memory, which 
 is the same as thdnkiitg in the pasty and which application 
 would be appropriate if memory means a resurrection of thought, 
 but seeing that it does not mean that, but that it means some- 
 thing vastly di£Eeremt from that, it is both unphilosophical and 
 contradictory. 
 
 Sec, 7 ; Is Memory a resuscitation of dormant thought 9 
 Another view of the nature of memory is the following, viz : 
 the thoughts that have been but are not now under the mind's 
 notice^ these thoughts in remembering oomo to be revived, so 
 that memory, according to this theory, means a " reviving of 
 thought." Those who hold this view of the memory, do not ad- 
 mit tiie resurrection of thought, because this would be an ac- 
 knowledgment of their ^eath ; but they merely contend for the 
 principle of resuscitating or reviving of thought. This looks at 
 the first glance, and especially ^ a superficial observer, to be a 
 more plau&iible theory. And indeed It does to soihe extent re- 
 move the absurdity of that neoessaiy and perpetual interchange 
 of U/esaid death by the theory of the resurrection of thought ; 
 but it introduces another difficulty in many respects as great. 
 Foe if the memory implies a reviving of thought, as those who 
 adopt tius theory would have us believe, and those thoughts 
 not revived, are what we are to understand by thoughts for- 
 gotten, common sense would lead us to the conclusion that 
 thosia thoughts that arc not revived are supposed to be dormant. 
 And this, I believe,the advocates of this theory do not presume 
 to deny, for they admit the principle of dormant thought. And 
 to acknowledge the principle that thoughts are dormant, and 
 that all thoughts in the past that are not remembered are in 
 this condition, is equal to admitting that those thoughts are 
 somewhere in existence, but are destitute of any ^ower to act. 
 Now, it follows as a legitimate conclusion, which no man can 
 reject) that if thoughts are somewhere in existence, they must 
 either be within the mind which first originated them, or els^. 
 
 
 
 X 
 
 /■ 
 
36 
 
 PJIILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 they must be without the mind. If those thoughts that are 
 forgotten and are dormant, are within the mind, the mind of 
 necessity takes cogniza^nce of them. It is impossible in the 
 nature of things to be otherwise. The mind must see itself 
 and must know what is within it, and it cannot pass over them 
 without noticing them. For if we were to admit, which is 
 very fur from, our intention, that the mind possessed the sup- 
 posed power of classification of thought, and disposed of them 
 by actually depositing them in their various places, even this 
 admission would be no proof that thought laid in the mind un- 
 noticed and unknown. For the very acjb of arrangement itself 
 presupposes a discrimination of every thing to be arranged, so 
 as to deposit each thought in what might appear its proper 
 {^ace, according to the general principles and plan of such ar- 
 rangement. The mind, we conceive, must see them; it can- 
 not avoid seeing those thoughts that are within it, and there- 
 fore it knows them, und consequently they are not forgotten. 
 So, that to say, 'thoughts that are forgotten lay dormant in 
 the mind," is an e£fort to say that nothing is forgotten. Be- 
 cause, all that is within the mind is under the notice of the 
 mind, at the same time it is in the mmd, and all the while 
 it is in the mind, because being in. the mind, is to &6 jper- 
 ceived hy the mind. But if those thoughts of which we hear 
 speak, are existing as individuals without the mind, they can- 
 not, so far as we can see, be termed the property or thoughts 
 of the mind, and consequently the mind can exercise no power 
 over them. For if the mind can monopolise and claim as its 
 own any one thing which exists beyond its boundarv or possible 
 sphere of action it can another, and on this principle it might 
 claim for its own every thought, no matter where or by whom 
 it was originated. It will be perceived, I presume, that the 
 idea we wish to convey is^ this : that tiioughts laid in 
 the " brain," which we suppose is designed to mean thovx/hts 
 laid in the mind, whether they be dormant or not, will not af- 
 fcGt in the least the undeniable fact that they must be present . 
 to the mind, if that theory is correct, that they ure " deposited ' 
 in the mind." And therefore the idea, however popular it may 
 be, of thoughts laying donnant in the inind while they are pre- 
 sent to ihe mind, and all must be present that are in the mind, 
 «>,^^ because ihey are present to the perceptive faculty and con£^ 
 > quently under the very act of thinking, at tie ssone time tiiat 
 
 ijS 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 27 
 
 wpt 
 
 they are so perceived, involves a contradiction, and is therefore 
 impossible in the nature of things. 
 
 Sec. 8 ; A conscious perception is thinking. It might 
 not be amiss to remark here, although we shall have occasion 
 to speak more fully on this point hereafter, that thinking im- 
 plies an action of the mind ; and an action of the mind docs 
 not appear to ns to be a possible thing without thinking at the 
 same time. The one appears to be identified with the other, 
 so much so that it does not appear possible for us to be the 
 subject of intellectual action without thinking, or to produce a 
 thought, great or small, without an action of the intellect. It 
 is true, Iwwever, that sometunes, for want of interest in those 
 actions of the mind, many of them are but slightly noticed, but 
 that does not make them any the less real. And at other times, 
 owing to mental derangement, though the action of the mind 
 at such times may be more rapid and intense than when acting 
 under ordinary circumstances, l^ut for want of t*. proper eqili- 
 brium and corresponding activity in the operating faculties it 
 is unconscious of the greatest part of its actions. But stilt he 
 thinks as really, though not as correctly, »s he ever did. And 
 these, of course, are properly actions of tud mind, though they 
 are not rational, therefore these are exoeptio»»-to the general 
 rule, and as such should be treated. But with such exceptions 
 anything in the mind implies a conscious action of the percep- 
 tion, and such action implies sensible and rational thought. 
 
 See, 9 .* How can thmghts be laid by f But another diffi- 
 culty which the doctribe oishelving up in the brain, or in other 
 words, depositing in the mind produces, is this : that those 
 thoughts represented as individuals whose number is in a con- 
 stant and rapid increase, and some of which appear in tremen- 
 dous magnitude, must be subject to a very extensive classifica- 
 tion and constantly new plans of arrangement, and which 
 arrangement must be made for every rising thought, because 
 every thought is new. For it should be remembered that our 
 thoughts are constantly springing up, and out of circumstances 
 too for which no previous calculation can provide. Now, if 
 such work of arrangement must be made, there must of neces- 
 sity bti some faculty of the mind whose business it is io keep 
 in order those thoughts so to be arranged and dcpoifited. To 
 
28 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 say that a law of our mental nature does this, will not meet 
 the case nor help the matter at all, but will rather throw new 
 obstacles in the way. Because this, as it appears to us, would 
 impeach the Divine Being by representing him as having made 
 a law whose operations, in spite of anything which we can do to 
 the contrary, force us to retain within the mind any and every 
 unprofitable thought which we may have had, and which we in 
 after life would gladly discharge. Now such thoughts w^ know 
 ariB not at all toi the glory of God lior to the benefit of ourselves 
 or our fellow men, but yet on this principle of mental deposit, 
 the mind, or some faculty of the mind, must be employed in 
 laying them in their destined place with as much care and at- 
 tention as it does those that are of a better class, or those of the 
 best class. ' 
 
 Sec. 10; Thoughts not dormant individuals. We would 
 further remark that the philosophy which teaches the individu- 
 al deposit of thoughts ,in some department of the mind is ex- 
 ceedingly questionable from another consideration, namely: 
 what appears to us to be an^ unnecessary burden that such a 
 process would entail upon the mind. Now, the mind of every 
 finite being every man must acknowledge has its bounds ; and 
 the mind of man is reasonably enough supposed to be more cir- 
 cumscribed in his present stage of existence than some other 
 orders of beings. Now, as those thoughts that are said to be 
 deposited, and are consequently represented as individual 
 things, have to lay in the mind as their only place of residence, 
 they could not fail, so far as we can perceive, to prove a clog to 
 the understanding, and consequently an impedimenft to the 
 progress of the mind. Should it be said that the expressions 
 "laid in the brain," and " shelved up in the memory," are not 
 designed to represent thoughts as individual things laying one 
 upon another in the mind; what such expression as the fol- 
 lowing was designed to represent and what it does represent 
 are two things. We cannot tell what a person means by what 
 he thinks, b^ause we do not know his thoughts ; we therefore 
 have to tell what he thinks (moans) by what he says, because 
 we know his words. How then will any person understand 
 the following ? 
 
 
 0^l' 
 
 - _,., 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 29 
 
 " Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain, 
 
 Our thoughts aro linked with many a hidden chain ; 
 
 Wake but the one and lo ! what myriads rise, 
 Each stamps his image as the other llieL."- - Upham. 
 
 Mr. Locke, who is justly held in very high repute by tlie 
 learned and intelligent of all nations for his original powers of 
 close thinking, conclusive reasoning, and deep penetration into 
 the nature of things, and especially into the laws of raind, of 
 which he has given the fullest evidence in his "Essay on the Hu- 
 man Understanding," yet it appears that there is a degree of ob- 
 scurity that attaches to that pan of his "Essay" where he treats 
 on the human memory. We will take a sentence or two, for 
 example : " For the narrow mind of man not being capable of 
 having many ideas under view and consideration at once, it 
 was necessary to have a repository to lay up those ideas which 
 at another time it might have use of."- — Locke's Essay ^ Book 
 2, CJiap. 10, Sec. 2. On the defects of the memory, Mr. 
 Locke in the same chapter, section 8, page 104, speaking of the 
 first defect says: " That it loses the idea quite, and so far it 
 produces perfect ignorance ; for since we can know nothing far- 
 ther than we have the idea of it, when that is gone we are in 
 perfect ignorance." And of the second ho says : " That it 
 moves slowly, and retrieves not the ideas that it has, and are 
 laid up in store, quick enough, to serve the mind upon occasion. 
 This, if it. be to a great degree, is stupidity, and he who 
 through this default in his memory, has not the ideas that are 
 really preserved ready at hand when need and occasion call for 
 them, were almost as good without them quite, since they 
 serve him to little purpose. The dull man, who loses the op- 
 portunity whilst he is seeking in his mind for those ideas that 
 should serve his turn, is not much more happy in his know- 
 ledge than one that is perfectly ignorant. It is the business 
 therefore of the memory to furnish to the mind those dormant 
 ideas which it has present occasion for; in the having them 
 ready at hand on all occasions consists that which we call In- 
 vention, fancy, and quickness of parts." The explanation 
 which the author gives is simply this : that the mind has a 
 power to revive dormant ideas or perceptions which we once 
 had ; but the whole tenor of his remarks go to show that he 
 looks to the mind to produce those " dormant ideas" from itself. 
 I will not trouble the reader with lengthy quotations but will 
 
ao 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF .THE MEMORY. 
 
 refer him to the work itself, and I will only add th^t I con- 
 ceive Mr. Locke's view of the memory not to bo exactly cor- 
 rect, and his explanations I think are not sufficiently clear to 
 place this part of his work, from which we have made the ex- 
 tract, on a level with the rest of his Essay. 
 
 Sec. 11 ; The constant reception of particles a burden. — 
 We leave the references which we have made, without any fur- 
 ther comment on them, with the reader, and rfiall proceed to 
 make some further observations pursuant to a fuller explana- 
 tion of our own [Views of the memory. Now, as we before re- 
 marked, thought is nothing more nor less than mental action. 
 And a little reflleotion will soon lead us to discover that 
 pleasure or pain depends, to a very great extent upon the na- 
 ture and degree of that action in which we engage, or of which 
 we are the subjects. We say, upon the nature and d^ree of 
 the action, because, if the action be a bad one, though it might 
 afford a little sensual gratification, yet the fact is, that from 
 bad actions, whether they apply directly to God, to ourselves or 
 to others, no true happiness ever springs. 
 
 And if the action \a good its legitimate product \b happiness. 
 Yet to continue that state we need so to study and ascertain, 
 not only the kind, but also the d^ee of action in each kind 
 that is necessary, least we overstretch the mark of prudence, 
 and become so wedded to some good actions, as to think that 
 the whole duty of the Christian is there. When we become 
 thus extravagant in the degree of attention and time which we 
 pa]^ to, even those religious duties, the actions themselves fail 
 to produce that degree of religious enjoyment which they 
 otherwise would do. Perhaps our idea would be better under- 
 stood by the following illustration, for example : suppose an in- 
 dividual to be placed in such oircmnstances as to be obl^;ed to 
 constantly receive upon himsOlf particles of matter, though they 
 might be as small as the finest dust, yet continually falling, and 
 each particle remaining in its place as it falls ; this process, 
 every person may see, Would eventually become burdensome, 
 and in the course of time unendurable. So in like manner^ does 
 it appear that, it would be with the mind if it is constantly 
 receiving thoughts as individual things and has no way of dis- 
 
 I 
 
 1^ 
 
 tc;- 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 31 
 
 does 
 
 I 
 
 Mt 
 
 charging them, but must keep them for ever within its own 
 circumference, either in an active or in a dormant state. 
 
 Sec, 12 ; Eoopannon not sufficient to meet the case. 
 Should the idea of expansion be urged as sufficient to meet 
 the emergency of such a case as we have supposed ? To this 
 we remark that though the body, it is very true, is capable of 
 growth and expansion, yet not at all in proportion even to the 
 addition of particles here supposed. And what would our 
 physical frame now be', were it not relieved from its increasing 
 bulk by constantly evaporating particles ? Hence, the expan- 
 sion of our bodies is not such as would sustain it under the 
 .continual dropping of the smallest imf^inable particles of mat- 
 ter, supposing them to be equal in their decending number, 
 only^ to the thousandth part of those thoughts that occur to the 
 mind and, according to the theory here alluded to, and from 
 which we dissent, rest upon or in the mind. And yet if the 
 body, cm this principle of growth could be made equal to the 
 pressure of matter here contemplated, it could only be for a 
 certain portion of ^he life of the body, seeing, according to the 
 principles and laws of nature no organized being is capable of 
 growth* at all, b.eyond a certain stage, when it arrives at its 
 maximum and can expand no more : so that the addition of 
 matter to the oxganuEcd body, even under the circumstances 
 here supposed that it were possible to sustain the pressure tiU 
 the maturity of the organised body, without the relief which 
 evaporating particles afford in all ordinary cases, the same rule 
 could not apply after the maturity of the organized body, be- 
 cause, expansion would then cease. The mind in like manner, 
 if Uie memory is a depository of individual thoughts,would natur- 
 ally become encumbered with their bulk, and exceedingly bur- 
 dened with the weight of those intelleotual somethings with 
 their constantly increasing pr^sure. And should it be said 
 that the perpetual expansion and devdopment of our intellectual 
 faculties is sufficient to sustain this mental pressure, we b^ to 
 say that it appears otherwise from the following consideration, 
 viZi : the mind is the subject of constant action during its 
 waking moments, to say nothing of its sleeping hours, and those 
 intellectual actions we call thoughts. Now, if those thoughts 
 aro individual somethings, as they must be if they lay deposit- 
 cd in the mind, to be "called up as ocjpasion may require;" 
 
32 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 or are laid anywhere else for the same purpose ; the mind there- 
 fore becomes the receptacle of a constant succession of intellec- 
 tual particles. And in order that these particles may not prove 
 an intolerable burden, it would be necessary for the mind to 
 enlarge with equal rapidity. Now, wo cannot say, if experi- 
 ence is to be our expositor, that this is the case with mind of 
 man. It is true, he is capable of vast improvement, and to 
 what extent no one can tell, and never will be able to do any 
 more than guess, because, the mind of all pious intelligences, at 
 least, will be continually improving. But great as this improve- 
 ment is and long as it will continue, it is not now, and in the 
 nature of things never will be, in proportion to the influx o£ 
 thought which every man has, and always will have, all through 
 time, and whether they are rational or irrational they will be 
 equally effectual, in the principle here ^luded to, and so on 
 through eternity. For every person Jcnows, that is if he takes 
 any notice of the operations of his mind at all, that thousands 
 of thoughts in the course of one day occur to the mind, 
 in other words, takes place in the mind, whidi are in no 
 respect calculated to improve the mind, in any sense what- 
 ever but rather prevent its improvement. This is true in 
 any department of study, whether it is Philosophy, Litera- 
 ture, Politics, or Religion. Let any nuin who is not satisfied 
 already of the fact, try any one of these, or any department of 
 any one of them, and he will soon find that to make any improve- 
 ment he must wade his way through a sea of opposing, conflict- 
 ing and troublesome thou^ts, which instead of helping him in 
 his studies are constantly throwing impediments in his way. 
 And as the expansion of the mind is not in proportion to the 
 thoughts which it has, and if thoughts are individual things, 
 and memory means laying them by in the mind, and seeing that 
 the mind cannot expasid in proportion to the number of thoughts 
 which it has, it do^ appear that by t)iis process it would gradu- 
 ally become weakened^ and eventually of its own weight be over- 
 powered and unable to adt at all. So that mental action ao- 
 Gording to this principle, instead of being as we suppose it is, a 
 help to the mind, it is a hinderance, and though under such 
 circumstances would eventually render the memory inactive. 
 Bi|it all this is contrary to our experience, for every man^ and 
 every child who is large enough to know that he has a mind 
 thatoan think, reason, and remember; knows that habitually 
 
 41 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 33 
 
 romombering daily ocourrences has the opposite effect to this 
 above mentioned. So much so that the more we remember, 
 the more we can remember, and the more the memory docs in 
 any one line of thought, the stronger it gets and the more it 
 is able to do. ' * 
 
 Sec. 13 •• 0/ the three propositions. Now, it will be per- 
 ooivbd by the att;entive reader that we.made three propositions, 
 and two of them, we conceive, prove to be false, and only two 
 of them, ther^ore the remaining one is the true proposition. 
 That is to say, the thoughts which were once before the mind, 
 but are forgotten, cease to be in the mind, for as the mind 
 passes on it takes not these events (thoughts) with it, and never 
 can bring them after it, but leaves them all in the past. Never- 
 theless, tills proposition requires some explanation which we 
 shall endeavour to give in its appropriate place. Still, it might 
 be propr for me here to remind the reader that thought implies 
 an action of the mind, and anything that is forgotten is not 
 under the mind's observation, therefore it is not inaction, and 
 conse<][uently ceases to be as an action. The fact may be the 
 same m the history of the past, but the fact may not be the 
 thought, indeed it is not the thought, and cannot be made to 
 be the thought ; but the peroepition of the fact is, because, to 
 per<»ive is an act of the mind, and an act of the mind is think- 
 ing. 
 
84 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 1 
 
 ON THE BL74MENTB AND ACTIONS OF THE SOUL. 
 
 Sec. 1 ; What the elements of the soul are. Having made 
 those observations, many of which are of a negative character, 
 principally to show what the memory is not, we shall next pro^ 
 ceed briefly to show what we conceive the memory to be. And 
 fo^ the better undenstanding of this part of our subject, upon 
 which we are now about to enter, it will be something to our 
 advantage to take a glance at that immaterial and i*Jinmortal 
 principle which dwdls within us, and by which we think, rea- 
 son and remember. We do not mean tnat we are to stop here 
 for the purpose of explaining its various powers^ and all the laws 
 by which it is governed, but simply to remind the reader that 
 the soul, as we understand it, is made up of different Acuities. 
 But if we a|^ly the term faculty to all the powers of the 
 soul, then I conceive a distinction should be noticed, as it 
 appears to exist in nature. Some appear to be essential to its 
 existence, and others only to its rational action. Some of these 
 look to me to be elements of the soul, others more like intellec- 
 tual compounds. The elements I would like to e^ faculties, 
 or at any rate I would like to have the liberty of calling them 
 primary faculties, because they are essential to the soul's being, 
 which appear to me to be these ; Perception, Consciousness, 
 Sense and Will. Now, it is evident that all these are essential 
 to the very being of the soul, and neither one of them can cease 
 to act without rendering the others useless in a great degree for 
 practical purposes. And again they cannot be analyzed, any 
 more in imagination than in fact, for who would presume to 
 start the question with any expectation of success, in reference 
 to what perception is made up of, the answer is in itself, it is 
 made up of perceiving, and how much further can we get if we 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 35 
 
 repeat the attempt a thousand times ? We might indeed turn 
 and say, what is perceiving made up of? The answer would be, 
 of perception. The same may be said of consciousness. What 
 is it made of? The answer is, of being oonsoious. And what 
 is being conscious made up of? It is like reasoning in a 
 circle, ibr we have simply to answer, of conscipiMnets, and so of 
 the others. It is true, oonsoiousness has its degrees of action, 
 and so has perception, but that does not disprove the fact that 
 they are elements of the soul. But when we speak of reason, 
 imagination and memory, although important, and even essential 
 to the intelleolual, moral, and religious well being of the soul, . 
 yet, they are not to be looked upon as primary, or what we 
 call, elementary faculties, because they cannot exist without 
 the others, and they cannot exist only as t?Mi existence is 
 produced by the others. Reasoning^ as we understand it, is 
 merely perceiving the argument or disagreement of things, 
 and consciousness that the things so perceived do agree, or 
 disagree, and hence it is the result of certain modifications of 
 the elementanr faculties alluded to. Imagination is simply 
 another modincation of perception, and memory is the result 
 of the action of two of these faculties. But as these will all 
 be noticed in their appropriate places, we do not deem it |Hro-> 
 per to dwell ,on them any longer here. 
 
 Whatever may be the opinions of learned men in reference 
 to a distinction of the faculties of the soul — or the number of 
 them — ^and wheUier they may properly be considered as some 
 dements, and others secondiury, compounds, and subordinate 
 to, and depending on the elements for their existence and their 
 action, or not, one thin^ is certain that the existence of the 
 faculty to perceive things, is so apparent, so plain and operative 
 that no parson can doubt it, no matter how hard, and hoiw 
 long he may try. And if it were possible for him to entertain 
 a doubt of its existence, the VQry doubt itself would prove the 
 existence of a power in the soul to perceive, because he peroeivesi 
 a doubt existing in himself. 
 
 Sec, 2 ; Perception in the present^ in the future and in 
 the past. The faculty of the soul which we call perception, 
 possessed the power to look into the future and into the past^ as. 
 
3G 
 
 VHILOSOPUY UP THE MEMOKV. 
 
 well m iato the present. And as wo shall have oooosion tre< 
 quently to speak of those intelleetual states in the course of our 
 remarks on this topio now under consideration, and to avoid 
 any misapprehension that might arise through the use of ambig- 
 uous terms, that iutoUcctuul state into which the soul enters 
 when looking into the future, we shall hero represent by the 
 term conttrnplation. This state of the mind is sometimes re- 
 presented by the term imaginationj which will apply equally to 
 the past and the present ; but the former term though it applies 
 more forcibly to the present, vet perhaps less forcibly to the 
 post, and is equally as appropriate for the future as the term 
 inwginationj and appears on the whole to be more comprehen- 
 sive. And here I beg to remark, that this faculty which per- 
 ceives, or looks into the future, is not another faculty from that 
 which perceives the present; and that which looks into the pro- 
 sent is the same as that which looks into the past. Taking this 
 view of the subject, the supposed number of faculties of the soul 
 will be greatly diminished, for instead of being faculties of the 
 soul many of them will be seen to be only modifications of the 
 some faculty. And in proportion as the philosophy of the mind 
 proves a reduction of the number of its elementary faoulties 
 from the general estimate, in the same proportion will it be bet- 
 ter understood, viz : it will be better understood by that chuss of 
 the community whose circumstances in life will not allow them a 
 very greaX many books, nor much time to read them. 
 
 •Sec. 3 ; The fact of transition. Now, it is important to 
 remark that this intellectual state, of looking into the future, 
 is not the result, as some seem to imagine, of some abstract in- 
 dividual thought or thoughts, thrown by a mighty effort of the 
 mind, into the future, far beyond the boundary of the sciul's exis- 
 tence, and there to exist independent of the soul. That is to 
 say, it is not to be regarded as a separate existence, as if the 
 soul existed here, and the thought existed yonder^ We do not 
 wish to be understood to mean, by what we here say, that the 
 soul while contemplating the future is not in the act of thinking 
 at that time, for the very opposite of this is the fact. We only 
 design to repudiate the idea as unphilosophical, that thought 
 means individual somethings coming to the soul fcr practical 
 purposes, and returning after having been used. But the true 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 37 
 
 sense and proper idea of the state alluded to, appears to be this r 
 that when we contemplate the future the mind takes a transit ; 
 that is to say, the soul, or in other words, a faculty of the soul, 
 whose province it is to perceive things, by a power with which 
 the Divine Being, who is its Author, has endowed it, stretches 
 itself bevond the present state of things. And this appears to 
 be the view which here and there those, who have exercised their 
 own natupid discrimination and judgment, have taken of the 
 subject. This sentiment is expressed, and beautifully too, in 
 the fbUowing verr appropriate words of a certain poet : " My 
 soul leaps forward at the thought." 
 
 See. 4; Tranntion consittent — %t» catue. This leaping 
 into the future, or rather, this view of the transition of the per- 
 ceptive faculty in contemplating the future,, will, we think, 
 appear perfectly conMStent with the philosophy of the mind, 
 which is according to, and will be corroborated by our expe- 
 rience. And though it will not be difficult for a close obser- 
 ver of mental operations to see that many of those transitions 
 are the result of accident, while others are produced in the 
 mind from portions of Divine Revelation with which we are 
 acquainted, containing predictions relative to future* events, 
 yet both are real transitions, only the one is based upon sup- 
 position and ends in imagination, and the other, being baaed 
 upon Revelation, eventually ends in fact. But, in oont^nplat- 
 ing the future, whether in fact or in fancy, that faculty of the 
 soul which is the principal acting agent in this internal opera- 
 tion, seems evidently to leap out, or in other words, it seems to 
 stretch itself beyond the present existence of the man. Now, 
 this stretching out is what we call, not (mother faculty of the 
 9oul, but a power of the perceptive faculty, assuming that pe- 
 culiar modi^cation adapted, to some extent, to the investigation 
 of things that have not yet arrived^ -t 
 
 But to make this subject appear as plain as possible, and it 
 is important that we get a correct idea of this item, let me ob- 
 serve that the perceptive faculty seems to possess what 1 would 
 call, a peculiar relaxing quality by which it stretches itself to an 
 amazing and immeasurable distance^ and so much so that we 
 offcen become astonished at ourselves. Indeed any attempts to 
 follow this faculty of the soul, through the various stages of its 
 
38 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 
 rapid exita, especially whea it soars to its pvi\fileged heights, or 
 penetrates to its accustomed depth»,or extends to the length of ita 
 intellectual fidds, would be fruitless. It is all a mystery to us, 
 in reference to how the perception exercises this power, we only 
 know the fact that it does. But to undertake to explain its 
 mode of operation through all its various stages, or even through 
 any of its stt^es, we make no attempts, and we do not feel dis- 
 graced by a confession of Our ignorance therein ; and ihjeiefor& 
 we shall leave this for others who may feel that the difficulties 
 connected with such exphuiations, are far less than we atpfeseat 
 conceive them to be. 
 
 Sec. 5.* The power of '9tret6hing out, a mystery* This 
 power however that the mind possesses of stretching into the 
 future, though it is a mystery, is no greater mystery than that 
 power which it possesses to. return, neither is it any greater 
 truth. This power we have to Represent by another name, and 
 . would call it mental eontractibility. By this wi^^mean that the 
 fUoulty whose business it is to perceive things by a certain 
 modification, stretches itaelf into the future, and by another 
 modification adapted to the purposes thereof contracts itself 
 back to 4he present. 
 
 These mental states to which we here allude may, perhaps, be 
 to someeixtent illustrated by the following reference to anat(»ny. 
 The anatomist tells us that in the body of man there are 
 about 400 fleshy strings called muscles, which are endowed with 
 powers of elasticity and oontracUbility, operating thereby upon 
 the bones which serve as Zevcrf or pries, the joints set ve as 
 fulcrums or baits, and the muscles are the moving power, or in 
 olher words, the lifting cU the pry » From this it will be seen 
 that the motion in the body originates in the muscle, which 
 motion is continued by the shortening and stretching of the 
 fibers that compose the muscle. So that the power to move is 
 in the muscle, which power when stimulated by the nervous 
 system aotsof itsdf. Now, although we connot tell how those 
 muscles stretch themselves, so as to produce motion, so incon^ 
 ceivably quick and powerful as they do, yet we can no more 
 deny the lact, than we can d. .y the fact of motion itself. And 
 so we might say in reference to the mind, or rather, in reference 
 to the perceptive faculty. We cannot see how the muscles can 
 
 *.» 
 
MiLOiSIOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 38 
 
 stretoh thenselves to prodnoe the motion of the arm or the leg, 
 all is rm/sterfff but we cannot deny the fact. Neither can we 
 see how the mind can stretch itself into the future, and so far 
 into 4he future too, and return again in such an inconceivablj 
 short space of time, and yet it appears, upon deliberate reflec- 
 (ioii, to be a truth eaualiy as great and forcible in the mind, 
 as the other is in the i>ody . Now, the mnsoular ^tem is en- 
 dowed wiih power to move from the benevolent hand of our 
 Ahni^ty Creator ; yet that same Infinite wisdom that provid- 
 ed su% powm* haSj at the SMne time, for reasons best and only 
 knowA to himself, made it necessary that the muscles should 
 receive iheir stimulating power from the nervous system ; by 
 which rekzation and contractibility alternately act* So also 
 has that same wise and benevolent hand endowed the mind with 
 a motive power, which power is intimately connected with, and 
 very operative in th# modification ef tibe peroqptive faculty 
 which looks into the future. In virtue of the same motive 
 power, by l^e law of inental oostraotibility it is called back 
 from any inmginable distance, ini ftime immeasurably short. 
 A)ld<althongh we cannot conoMvehow all this is done, any more 
 Uuia we can eomi»ehend the contractile poww of the.muscle, 
 yet c^revy man is as sencnbWof intellectuid motion, as he is of 
 physical exiitence. 
 
 'i-ri- 
 
 See. 6 ; 1%^ t&id doei not leave the hody at aueh time^. 
 We must noi be understood to mean that the soul, when con- 
 templating the future, leaves the body and goes into the future 
 beyond Ihe present existing state of Uiings ; for this would be a 
 great error seeing that by such a process of operation the body 
 would be left wimout the souL For as no nMtn has, or can have 
 in ihe nature of things, 'more than one soid, if that soul at any 
 tnne goes out beyond the present existing state of things, or if it 
 go out fr(»n the body into the past, the present or the future, 
 it makes no difference in reference to the eifect, for in either 
 case it leaves the bodv i^ithout the soul, and consequently, with- 
 out the principles oiufe, and therefore in a state of death. But 
 the opposite of this we know is the truth, for however intently 
 oar minds may be placed on any subject, whether of the pres- 
 ent, of titepast, or of the future, the body Uves^acts and breathes 
 regularly, which it ooidd not do even for one moment if the soul 
 were absent. And as the soul of man, like all other finite beingf« 
 
40 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 !i I- 
 
 II 
 
 is necessarily bounded in ^to ezistenoe, and can only be in the 
 one place at the same time, and as the body Cannot liye one 
 moment J according to the laws of our nature, without the pres- 
 ent sustaining and operating power of the immortal prinpiple, 
 and as man does ha?e peroepticms in the future beyond, the 
 present existence ofhimself, it follows as ale^timate oonolusicdi 
 that it is not litelrally the Koul thiat goes> into the fu^tP*^ While 
 ooatemj^lating, or mother words, it is not the soul thai lei^es 
 the body when the man looks (thinks) ahead o£hiinBel|',tin ordw 
 thathemay|>repai!e.for a ^'m^inyc^ay/^ Yet Ihere is pereep* 
 tion, though it mSght exist, in its weakest [fbrm (4*46. iuMgina- 
 tibn) but it is still peoeeptioin that is beyond the present 4xi8t- 
 eiice of the man^ and beyond the present state of ^ngs. : And 
 therefoce wd ihumbly .o(^oeite that the true philosophy of sueh 
 intellectual stated, is to; > be . explained .only ion the pyfinciple of 
 mental elas^dty (ind coQtraotibility. i HJl k ' r - :• ; 
 
 i niSfee. 7 ; : 0/ timetmddiakiniDei^ It itf woiihy ^ remark that 
 lidther time nor distance appeiar, so fetr lus ,we.<Dan oonoeiye, to 
 be any impediment to : the . ftund in those .excursions, for the 
 rapidity with which it <idmmuni«atesby its inexpliof^k transits 
 is beyond all calculation I Now, it is yei^difiereht with matter ; 
 for we find in matter of every description, whether in laige^iHr 
 small quantities, and whether solid or liquid, time is always 
 proportionate to, the distance it travels^ ThiU iatosay, if matter 
 trayel one mile it requires a certain portion of time, but if it 
 should travel two miles, jdr twenty saileiB, it would require, an 
 additional increase of time in proportion to thut distance. But 
 this does not appear to be the case with that faculty of the 
 mind which is ; employed on exploring expeditions. For the 
 perceptive &culty.by assuming the necessary modification, 
 wluch appears to be very easily done by a law of our mental 
 nature, can step into the future, or into the past, a .thousand 
 years with as little a^arent difficulty as we, can lo^ Ibrward to 
 the setting of thesun^ or backward to^ihe morning light*^ -.i^i^^ 
 
 See. 8 ; 0/ certain fornyi assumed. Biit there \& another 
 form whieb the perceptive faculty assumesy which is leptesent- 
 ed by l^d temmMffmationi This, so fiir as I can ^soooeive^ is 
 not andther faeulfy that institutes any oonstituent or essential 
 
 '-'"■■ . • Ui' Uj^:- -.fc^ii ■ -ih^fi'mi-t ^UuA: 'Hi^'>^4^-wtfm 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 41 
 
 part of the soul's existence ; but it is merely a power of percep- 
 tion, in other words, another modification of the perceptive 
 faculty. But this /orm appears, for some cause which I con- 
 fess I have failed to discover, exceedingly prone to associate 
 itself with perception in its operations botSi in the past, and 
 sometimes ip the present, as well as in the future. Hence, in 
 consequence of the forwardness of thei mind, in our fallen and 
 corrupt state, for there is no reason to believe that this inor- 
 dinacy in any part (^ the mind would ever baive taken place had 
 not sin through the faU of man spread it(^ paralyzing influences 
 thr6!^h ^ h ■'-•■■A pire of the soul, thousands of things in the course 
 of ai^'yr i ime, are seen in a kind of phantasma that never 
 will exist iu any other form^ while contemplating Ihe future. 
 And so it is when perception extends itself into the past. For 
 there? is very frequently a kind 6f fancitul vision of ^ings pre- 
 sented to the mind. -This is the work of what We ebll imagina- 
 tion, whi^his a v^ryi^aeful power of the soul when kept under 
 proper discipline, yet if it is hJ ^ '^nly by a; loose rein, which is 
 too often the ease, for Urant of sulttejient m^tal cultivation, it, 
 tX- (oertain times, becolnea very troublesome. 
 ■■|iaPi«».f«r«f «)«i*-«l-'i^^^^^ ■• ■ •■,.-■ ;•{!( 
 
 See^ ■: ' What i$ the office ctrid power of vmagination ? To 
 e(xplain the officie, |)0wer, and usefulnei^ of this form of mind, 
 which is called tmojjftnalion, does not come within the limits of 
 our plan of arrangement, yet, as it frequently presents itself, 
 while perception and consciousness act in reference tp the past, 
 which i$ mhat.we caU memorif ; and as we have already advert- 
 ed >to tkis power, and may again hereafter, it-might be proper 
 to devote a shc;t t space to the consideration iof this mental 
 
 itate. • . ■'■ ' M ■ ■ • . ': ■ ■ i":-' \ 
 
 n,ii.: 
 
 See. 10 ; (1) And first, we remark, ^at its bipedal buii- 
 nestt appears to be to assume oertain fornis totiklly> irrespective 
 (^ their character or the e£fect that they would be likely to 
 prbduoe, : the imagination doea nc^ appear to have any regard 
 for eiecta or consequences that might result from its fanciful 
 modificati<mB; t- 
 
 Sec4 H : (^) And secondly, it appears to have no refer- 
 ence to truth or falsehood, by way of preference to the one, or 
 the other, and we are not able to discover wherein it has any 
 
42 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 resjpect either for Viftue or vice. Tt appears to stndy no seleo* 
 iron and generally ctisr^ards any si^diLematioal arrangement, any 
 form it can assume, whatever that form may he, it will fuusume 
 the first opportunity, LO matter wha^ the soul's engagements 
 are, for it regards tihem not. And it <tan only he oontroled hj 
 i vigorous effort of the will. And iudeed there appears to he 
 circumstances under whfoh the mil cannot fully r^olate this 
 form of the perceptive fiiculty. For someilmei the laws that 
 produce, govern, and control these seoondiiry intellectual powsers 
 are so operative, and the oiroumstanoes that call them intojaction 
 m numerous, and no p'^werful, that trouhJesome, perplexing, 
 and terrific modifications are assumed, and i«peated, in f^te of 
 all the authority and remonst^i\oes of the vriU* 
 
 Sec. 12 ; (3) In the third place, as a general rule its 
 power is subordinate, and is hounded firmly by certain unalter* 
 able principles of the mind, beyond which it never can go in its 
 irventive career. For though its modificAtions are nimieious 
 and irrespective of conseqiMhioes, yet, it does not appear to be 
 capable of painting, or presenting anyft)rm before the mind 
 that does not resemble some fact existing either in the present 
 or in the past. That is to say, it can assmn'e nio modfficatkm 
 that does not agree with some real thing. This fbrm of mind, 
 therefore, whi<^ ig called imaainaium is drawn from something 
 which does «dst, and with whfdi we have been made acquainted 
 by the agency of our senses. Let an individual try to imagine 
 something, and the question would imiQediately arise what aftail 
 I imagine ? He begins to look around f<^' something in order 
 to/create in his mind a resemblance to that Bootething, and if 
 h^ could find no real thing that would attract his fancy, he could 
 imagine nothing. Suppose we imagine we see something suspend* 
 /ed high in the air, #e must either imagine that to he gdmethingy 
 j or nothing at aU^ We cannot imagine it to be nothing, because 
 it is something,' and we can ibrm' btit a very inadequate idea df 
 nothing, at any rate. Then we would have to iorm an idea 
 of something, because we i^y aomething is suspended in tbe air^ 
 That which is not something is nothing, and that whieh is noth^ 
 ing cannot be perceived by the sense, and consequently nofigure 
 can be drawn from it. So that tf we have to fbrm ad idea of 
 something suspended in the air, we will have to go to some^ 
 thing from which to draw th«it idea, or forra,or figure,or whatever 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 48 
 
 else it might be called. So that it makes no difference how 
 active our imagination may he, or how anxious we might be to 
 produce something new under the sun, we shall most assuredly 
 imagine that we see a man, ahorse, a trto, a house, a book, a 
 beaBt, a bird, a fish, a fowl, a metal or mineral, a solid or lic^uid, 
 an ariel or gaseous something, of which we have heard or seen. 
 Hence, we say that im its forms are drawn from real things, 
 and such things ^ that are known to jl;he mind, of which 
 truth a thousand tUnstrations might b^ given did we not oon^ 
 sider the above s^ifficient. 
 
 ■.'I :W*;i>3'Ml 
 
 ^eci 13; (4))' Bi the fourth plaee, we remark that 
 imetgi'nation is not as well deabribed by the term " faculty of 
 the soul," seeing it is so closely identified with perception as it 
 is by oallin^ it by what we conceive to belts proper name, viz : 
 a power of the pereeptive fiiouity. At all efvetits^ there does 
 not appear to be any good grounds for calling perception and 
 imag^tton two ditttnet faculties, unless it i9 proper to call 
 every aot^f the soul) a fietculty of the soul ; beeause their actions 
 do not iippear to be distinct and indMte&dent ti«iions» For it 
 does not appear tiliat there is any difbrenoe In the kind of ac< 
 tions produced by the imagination and those produced bv the 
 perception, fi)r die actions of both are actions of perceiving 
 what diflerence there is in the degree of perception. The one 
 p&r«^Yes but diml^v or inipitft, ^£e other clearly, imd distinct. 
 
 VM'tf 
 
 y .'^Jf.•f ■,*ji«'J.f.^','-.W- 
 
 loTo illustrate the principle of idenUiyiiii perception and 
 imagination more fully, let a man imagiite himself to be in a 
 ^tui^ statCj and in that place whete< we all desire to go^ whicti 
 we call hea.ven ; let him not. merely entertain th^ diesire to go 
 %h«ite, or the hope that he will get Uiere, but let him if he can 
 im^dhe himself to be aiisent &om the body and present wijl^ 
 the Lord, and then le^^hifii see if he can disoovi^r any difier- 
 ence between thit- intelleetual| statciy in refisren^e ta its kittdf 
 and his perceiving liimself to be . iti: h^v^n. "Vi^iat difference 
 there is, is in the d^ee. The imagination draws the form of 
 what it fMipposefis leaven to . be ; it peroeives tiiat form ;: it draws 
 also the foriktofihe bod^^ but it has no form for the soul, that 
 form of body it pievoeiyeB to beiin ^leftvem .'Hit . ; 
 
 'Ifcjf U'(].Ni': '.Kv't'i-' v'i.i-r 
 
44 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 Sec. 14 ; Cannot perceive and imagine at the tame time. 
 If a man imaghie himself to be in France, he perceives nothing 
 that transpires in Canada, 'the place of his residence^ at tliS 
 same time tiiat he imagines himself to be in France. If he 
 perceives himself sitting in his parlor, or writing at his desk, 
 he cannot imagine hims^ to be in the' l^islative hall, or to 
 stand pleading at the btUr at the same time. We do not say 
 he cannot sit in his parlor ahd iniage himself -to be in some 
 other plaoOj but we say h^ ' cannot percdve or imagine himself 
 to be sitting in his parlor, by his own fiveside in Oanada; and 
 perceive or imagine himself to be in France or any distant 
 part of the globe ' at the same Hme. If thiJEi view Which we 
 here expreiss is a b<ntect'<>ni9, ind agrees with onr experience, it 
 is clearly established that ima^nation is nothing more nor lc«s 
 than a certain ^ojdificatioA or the perc^iive &culty ; iti other 
 words^<aperOeiving in fancy i]|Bt8ad<of pQroei'i^ngin'faot/ | 
 
 Weremait f^rihe^, l^at whenchi^et #e iimagine^^^ 
 either in thc» pMt or in the fiitnie,' * wc) eiigage the perceptive 
 faculty ; and it is thereby inreVented ifroin iwting in'api]^ other 
 intellectual ca|)a^ty fbr the time being. It is worthy of ro' 
 mu*k too, tba;t we can perceive simple truths' thiwugh the 
 senses, without the help of the imagination, while We can 
 imagine nothing wi(thou<t the direct help of the percepuv^ facul- 
 ty. By using irreldviAt expresBions^ and ran<|ott phrases, 
 whose proper meaning would represent the opposite of what 
 they are fi«qi|ent)y uised^ to expcesi,:^^ 
 things, aiidl>y«low degrees come to entertain veiy^ aibsurd ideas 
 of theacrtiousof our^ownmindf. And so we get in the haMt 
 of raying we imag(ttO lii^if or ffta^, aittd when askedt'to explain 
 the philosophy of the' imagiuation^ - i we rtodily stiswer we fonn 
 <^*tain figures and pla^ them before ^ mind. It i#ould not 
 be a very diffieult thing for a man in iCiuiada to imagine him- 
 self in England^ but it would be irverr different thing were he 
 to atteiiipt to *lrt?ing England to CanadL • Ditivl^^wi^sti «iii te 
 
 cation of things. To say, 'as is ^ti^uently ' said; that we 
 ''bring things to the mind," add '< hold them beibre the inind," 
 may answer as a figure, if it is bo e3n>lained, and not allowed to 
 pass as a fact. For strictly speaking it is not philosophically 
 
PHILOSOP«y OF THB MEMORY. 
 
 45 
 
 ;«; 
 
 
 correct. Whatever expressions we may use, aii4 whatever may 
 be the sense they ai^ intended to convey, the fact is, we hold 
 nothing before the mind in the 8ense.inwhic|i it appears gener- 
 ally to be understood. The action of the mind appears at 
 times as if it were tftrested.; ai^d held >^ ^ ii,<ce!rtain point, and 
 yet iit is ^a questi^ alter : ^, whetjier. .this nt^i^ of mind does 
 not eaost more in ima^n^Uon jdum i<i li^ct, ; : Jf.t^ person, will 
 loQjt iRtently *t tihe ^4ial pUie pf a <^R^ ^d try: tw experi- 
 ment, to 0iDe how long he. can la^^^a^if^i^ S^pi^jiyon iho 
 minut^ hand, ^nd.how lopg he cais^k^ pf^.iyijt}!^ it) )|ie would 
 8(K>nJlndit tobie impraoti,ca1»letphQl<i]ljl^e 9nn4feven-to a slow 
 motion &r one^minuter-yes^ foFyhalf^ft n^nu^i and we^may go 
 farther still, and sty, it,w«iuld;dpuhtl^^)K>iTf,;i^PFa^^^l^to 
 hold the mind th^e for ten , seco^d^v, , 4f< j^cmH wpuldbe so 
 difficult to hold thC/mipd for so shpr^, %,4i])(ie,t^ a^^r^tain mo- 
 tion^ hoiW much more lo iini^t we, .^m^pse i^^ij^^d he to hold 
 ^he . mijid . without: «ny motion at aU ? ;.-, fvhai appears to a 
 fl^peracMl, obs^iFer. a^ an airTesting;or steying Jj^ prffg^^9* i^^d 
 dipiinishuig it9: acition, ^ in fe^ ^e yeiy , opp^^t^vji^, ffit- sruch 
 Hm)^., when wd seem tq hold t^i^ .hefp^ ^ iml^d^ ^e acitipn 
 of the mind ip increased* . A^d: i tbiit e^ormpup fvrray, of events 
 which ar^t! i(«Fire^nted: ap st^qdlng ibefore J^ 9i4^dy all take 
 p]AO0 by viiiiue of the Uw of m@iiti4^ai^i^9P.>^ ><4l^4 4^ir oonr 
 tiguQu^poeiUon which tho^f appear/f^qoQppy/atjOprtain. times, 
 is not becaiise these individw , someiihu^ whii^. we tQall 
 thottght9> by (I d^sfi^rate. intelleotual; effort are br4)ug^into a 
 phaliini;^ And plao«4i into ^ !poi»|ignous positiotLbjefor^^Uie mind ; 
 Wtthls mentfdstate/is posij^VjeTy the .^epult. oC,<% rapidity of 
 those transits dithe peroeptiye faculty ifrp^.^piieiiabject to 
 aaothet, stimulated by the increasing interest wh^oh the soul 
 has in j^,invei(t)gatiQp:of- the^joiatter, apd promp^d to act by 
 the authority of the will, it leaps &ga|i,t()|ne oirpuxosMmce to 
 another with that astonishing swiftness, that though a close ob- 
 server of himself will be fully, ponsQious of , th^ \ trani||its being 
 made,, yet the intellectual aotivijbyjwhiph ia ixuuKi%it-inni[aking 
 them is such, that the mind m becomes so itstopish^d at itseu 
 that it finds it, difficult at twines tp <;ri8dit its pwn, achievements. 
 B«t the observations which' we* h<ive.hie^ m(Vile in jf^jurence to 
 the imikginatiQU, though w^ > ojin .soiM^y entfirtaJm a hope that 
 they wiU be; regarded a^;;4)onolu^y6 and satisfactory by all that 
 may read th^ miist suffice, jbrHJiliQ pr^ai^t, and ][ will only 
 
46 
 
 PI!IL0S0PH¥ OF THK MBM0B1?. 
 
 ad(^ that their relevancy will be more fvSfy seen and'inore forci- 
 bly felt as we proceed in oui^ explanatioiw of the nature and 
 operation-of the memory. 
 
 Sec. 16 : "WluU inemoty it. To remember is to peroeire 
 the past. And" we cannot perceiHB the piMt only by that fiuml- 
 ty of tho wui which poaMnOs the po#er to go andlook into the 
 p^t. Sol that aoooraii^ to this, memory impHeit^An aetion of 
 the pevoeptiv<$f<^<y' 'extending to pMt eftents. It does not 
 mekn that patit ey^ttti (thoi^htii)^ flt« broughi to the present 
 time. And shofold tMa ezptanittion be doubted, it ten be 
 tested by a reference io onr oxperienoe. We are not to^ to 
 cmeAort fbr an eizi^aitation of tliis iaatter^ this is not nocessar^, 
 but we must look ai the operations of our own minds^ which win 
 giveusa't^estatemont of the case. And with aU deference to, 
 and respect for those gnat men,^ who have expressed' themselyes 
 on this subject, asliolding opinions opposite to those-weibel com- 
 pelled WmitttHiiin, We are strotu^ InOlittedto beiiefre^ tlMt alittle 
 cool r^dotioii iHttaitoist us ihon in undersU^kig-tlh^real n»> 
 ture of memory than the i^eading of huge t^ohimesof opinloM. 
 Not tMt we sm>uld dOpreciato^ the labours, nor the tatento«of thos6 
 who hftve written ^ asmst the «inderstaftdtng|^ ttad dSffiise use^l 
 informi^ofi through' ' society^ but neverthem, we i^ould leani 
 to eierdse our owtti judgment, tes should hold thiit in^^HienaMe 
 r^7i< as a sacred treasure^ and yidtd not that prerogative to any 
 man, howeveif great or goodj or to any class Of; men, howetidr wise 
 or numerous. Neither should we aUow> ourselves t*tl]lnk,tio, 
 9to^;/b»'>te^ Mi^vnen^j* however diminutive.we may i^^peartoolir' 
 selves to b<f,.<)^ however small we mav lo<^ in the eyes of others, 
 in point of literary and int^eotual achievements, that it is not 
 our prerogatilne, as well a» the ^eatest philosopher^n the conti- 
 nent, to m OfMiof MM0r«. 
 
 Sec. 17: /md^tna^um finkfjperi^^ton ^ihe/utMfei Here 
 we mustimdcea^iOmer observation or two in reference to. imi^i- 
 nation with perception in the future. lict us then take our 
 minds into Ihe ^ture, afid watch the operations thereof fer a 
 few moments, and We shaft findthat thelbeul^ Of peroeptiohimd 
 itsbbrrespond&igpoirer/of imagituitioa llivanal^ go toigsther^ 
 And it wm bo sei^ too, thst th^ are suliject to a oontinualinter^ 
 diange of aotion according to thd speoidd office w^oh eaoh is de- 
 
PHlIiOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 47 
 
 signed to fill in our mental nature. And by f\irtber inyeBti^at- 
 ing thiB point we shall see that imaginatioa can do nothing with- 
 out an instantaneous and continued action of the perceptive facul- 
 ty operating on this power, and in harmonv with it, taking cog- 
 nixaneeofthe modification assumed, by vutUQ of suchjpower, 
 which we call " imagination," and rep(^:tillg: the anticipated 
 result to the soul. We conoeiye that nothing can be done by the 
 soul in tlie present time, or seen in the fut«r0» without the assist- 
 ance of the perceptive faculty modifi#d, and by i^e said modifi- 
 cation become adapted to the purpose therein required. Sothat 
 nothing cau be formed or seen, even \f^ th^ "im&gmaUon," with- 
 out the direct agency and positiv0 action of the perceptive facul- 
 ty. Now, while perception is expatiating in the iuture, and 
 intently fixed on perceiving things, it forms no obstacle to the 
 action of the aflfections or desires, or hope, ^ or to consciousness, 
 but it, seems rather to , fiirnish them employmfim^ , and excites 
 them toaotiop, especially that of .ponsciousneBS,: whos^ action is 
 alwavs re()uired in iimnediate connection with that c|f perception^ 
 For itoannot be said with any d^g^.of propriety that we per- 
 .ceive <7ia< of which we are not <h»^ous. < lt%t, it beremefmbered 
 that while the ,«ction of the perc^jfi^ furnisbes action ^nd 
 necessary employment for consciousness, it at the same time prcr 
 vent* the action, of the memory* For it does appear tp be abs^ 
 lutely inipossible for any person, let him try;, his best Jtf he doubt 
 thisremark, to remember the pi^t, and he cui remember nothing 
 but the past, for he cannot remember the past at the same time 
 that perception is fhlly and really, or in its modified state, {mo^tn** 
 atiouj is engaged in the future. If a man could remember the 
 past at the same time that he is contemplating or intently think- 
 ing on the future, we might have some nUusible grounds to sup- 
 pose that memory is a deposit of individual somethings in the 
 mind, and there reserved for future use, ^hich we have called by 
 the name of fA<M£^^to. 
 
 Now, we find by dose obseryaifion, that the perceptive faculty 
 grates in a similar manner in its investigation of the past. 
 For it cannot perceive the past and oontemfdate the future at 
 the same time/ The transitions are indeed rapid, so much so 
 that the mind at certain times of deep interest seems so to con- 
 nect the past and the future with the present, that to a superfiioia] 
 observer all appears to be bl^ded into one view, and brought 
 
46 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 /before the mind. Bat the tratisitions from the present to the 
 future, and from the future bftok to the nreeent, and so on to the 
 past, are nevertheless rieal and unavoidable. Now, to remember 
 IS to perceive that "whfeh has been under our observation before. 
 How can we say that we remember what we do, not perceive, or 
 that we percent in the pfust what we do not remember? Every 
 man who is capable of -eonneoting his thoughts from a simple pro- 
 position to a l^tima/te and rational oonolusion, could easily 
 enough be led io s^ tHat whenever he remembers, he finds the 
 ^foculty of perception in the past, and nbt in the IHiture. 
 Keither are its efforts directed to the present, rummaging in the 
 brain in search of thm^kta, which, ieamod men tell us, are 
 deposited there. 
 
 Sec. 18.' PercepHon goes into the pas\ When an indi- 
 vidual remembers a circumstance that has ti*anspired a year, a 
 month, a Week; a day, or an hour i^, he fiids tl^e perceptive 
 faculty in the Very place where, and bad to the very time, 
 when, such event or circumstance transpired. And in thus re- 
 membering, we percieive by minute investi^ition that no other • 
 faculty of the soul is einpfoyed in the transitidh, by whioh the 
 discovery of any past event is made, that has been under our 
 cbservatipi|- before, only that of perception. ' When we speak 
 of perception as going into the past under the circumstances 
 here intimated, we represent it as acting in its simple native 
 form, and under regular laws, of which we shall speak hereafter. 
 It is true, however, as we before remarked, that imaginqition 
 pitan goes into the past, in other words, the perceptive faculty 
 often assumes in the paist, as well as in the present, a presump- 
 tive, or perhaps it might be more proper to say, a complex form. 
 But Such forms of ^e jm'ceptive, which constitute what we 
 mean by imagination, do not appear to be strictly necessary in 
 the investigation into the true state of things, whioh appears 
 to be the ordinary and natural business of perception in its 
 simple state. And it is only when perception acts in its sim- 
 ple form that the truth, in all its force and beauty, the whole 
 truth, and nothing but tibe truth of any circumstance, whether 
 in the present, in all its departments, degrees, and bearings, 
 can be discovered. HencCj we look Upon perceptipn in what 
 we here term its simple ifown, to constitute a most important, 
 and a most essential and constituent part of the memory. In- 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 49 
 
 deed, it appears to oonstituto all that part of the memory which 
 is necessary for the discovery of any event that has once been 
 under our observittion and is within reach of the mind. It 
 therefore oonstitutes all that part of our memory which per- 
 ceives the past. 
 
 • And this, that is to say, the perceiving part in connection 
 wit^ consciousness, which is also a >ery operative faculty, and 
 of which w« shall have occasion to speak hereafter, constitutes 
 that jpo^trer of the mind which wc call memory. And therefore 
 memory^ as wei before remarked, is not, according to our eon^ 
 ception of its nature, another faculty distinct from perception 
 and opnsdiousness, as they are from each other, but we appre< 
 hend it io.be the result of a mutual and natural combinatioil 
 of the two original elementary and independent faculties, via : 
 perception and oonsoiousnese. And let it be remembered also 
 that the peroeiving part, of the m^oily is affected on the principle 
 of mental transition. The strength whieh the memoify sains by 
 action oanpwe thinkj' be accounted for and explained Mtter on 
 this .pilifaoi]rie than <m fmjif ot^eir. It is a fact known and ao4 
 knowledged-by aU intelligent: persona that the memory gains 
 strength by action, that the more wo remember the more we 
 can remenUtor, that is to say, tiie more we acoustom ourselves 
 to looki into th& past, the easier, by far, these teansitions are 
 made. This view of tHe memory, gaining strength by action, 
 is known to every sohool-iboy that is old enough to write a copy/ 
 reoite a vene, dr do a sum; ^nd is. abundantly tonfirmed' bf 
 our Qwh! observation and elperienee. But while the fact has 
 been universally aokhowledged, its philosophy has not been 
 sought &r, only by a few, ' and: consequently not generally un- 
 
 deiAtOOd^ ' >A\.N;ri:. /- . -jhhfT U-rr- i 
 
 •rrr vtiw 
 
 ill' 
 
 .i/o'jr'^iJ'if I'll' ;!?'<; .rv ■ • 
 
 V See* IQ : X^fpaHfyrmMTniermff'thdngt^ 'A tn^dierous 
 mem(Miy,.aS: it is frequently termed, can be better comprehend-* 
 edai^ explained, in our humble 6pinio% on this principle of 
 meHtal tranntion, than on any other. : Now, all men know 
 that they experience, and too often too, that mental ,Btate which 
 ihej em partial remembrance, which if memory is a deposit of 
 tAoiig^, would be so destitute of meaning, so contradictory, 
 so absurd^ as to be utterly unworthy of notice. For such ex- 
 pressions as, " I partly remember," &o., would be just equal to 
 
 E 
 
»• 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 saying, I have thoughts partly asleep and partly awake, or, 
 partly dead and partly alive, or partly dormant and partly active, 
 thtit IS to say, neither in motion nor at rest. How can these inoon- 
 8isienoi(t^8 be reoonoiled,how can these opposites be mad« to agree? 
 Whose experience will agree with this description of the memory? 
 Who can see any philosophy therein? But if we admit that mem- 
 ory does really consist in « transition of the perceptive fkculty, * 
 which appears to be the true state of the case, we see a philosophy 
 in this intellectual state of jHifticU remtmhrdnce^ which can be 
 brought down to the comprehension of evenr one who is capable of 
 knowing that he is endowed with perception and consciousness. 
 
 Sec, 20 .* Perception widely distributed. Now, the power 
 to perceive, that is, the perceptive faculty,- we remark, is widelv 
 distributed among the inhabitants of earth, but man possesses it 
 in a very high d^ree. Yet that which he has dilers not, ac- 
 cording to owe conception of its nature, in kind, as some have 
 supposed, from that with which the lo#er animals are endowed, 
 although there is a vast difference in the degree. To say that 
 Inferior animals are not endowed with perception would be to 
 assume, and to say a great dea)^ and would be tantamount to 
 Baying they have no knowledge of their being. And to say 
 that they have no knowledge of their being would be to say 
 that whioh is opposed to the sensible observations of every 
 man in the daily occurrences of tife. No being can remember 
 without the existence and exercise of the faculty of peroeption. 
 Those that do remember must therefore have Uiis facility, and 
 we leave the reader to decide for himself whether he thinks he 
 has reasons or not for believing that the lower akiimojS can re- 
 member things relating to their existence, interest, safety and 
 general welfare. For if they know anything, they knaw their 
 existence, and no one could suppose for one moment, that it is 
 possible for any being to know its existence and not perceive it, 
 any more than it is possible for a being to perceive its existence 
 and not to know it at the same time. Now, perceptiota, 
 wherever it exists, and in whatever degree it may be found to 
 exist, we mean so far as applies to this our present state of be- 
 ing, whether its action is directed to the futwre, the present, or 
 the past, and whether it acts in its simple or complex form, it is 
 quite liable to meet with obstacles in itis way, and which indeed 
 is a very common occurrence. 
 
 
 ''•ftWiK^wd 
 
y awake, or, 
 >artly active, 
 these inoon- 
 ^d« to agree? 
 the memory? 
 it that mem- 
 tive foculty, • 
 I philosophy 
 hioh oan be 
 is capable of 
 aaoiousness. 
 
 I the power 
 K >a widely 
 poflsessesit 
 wm not, ao- 
 I some have 
 ro endowed, 
 To say that 
 would be to 
 tamount to 
 And to say 
 Id be to say 
 'M of every 
 I remember 
 peroeption. 
 wnlty, and 
 ) thinks he 
 •«<s can re- 
 safety and 
 ^ow their 
 ', that it is 
 )Croeive it, 
 B existence 
 perception, 
 B found to 
 tateof be- 
 ^resent, or 
 form, it is 
 iokindeed 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 6t 
 
 See, 21 ; Steady perseverance csicntiaL By watching the 
 actions of the mind we shall see that sometimes in the course of 
 its travels it gets repulsed in such a d^ee, and to sn h an ex- 
 tent that it retreats. Like as it were a man on an exploring 
 expedition who with groat courage enters a dense forest with 
 buoyant hopes and lively expectations of success; but \\e diff 
 culties and dangers from within, to which he unexpectedly 
 and suddenly finds himself exposed, compels him tt> retire and 
 abandon the enterprise ; and perhaps in no future period of h'^n 
 life could be induced to make another attempt, and if he sho* .id 
 he might meet with no better success. And so it is, to a con- 
 siderable extent, with this fiusultv of the mind, whose business 
 it is to penetrate into, and perceive the nature of thingii^ But 
 it is not verv difficult to perceive the mere existence of com- 
 pounds within our sphere of action, the discovery of wh'oh 
 depends upon the natural exercise of our intelleotual powers ; 
 but of all those simj^e items that combine to make up those 
 compounds, whether thejr are of a physical or mental nature, we 
 often know but little. Yet a mind possessed of a great amount 
 of vitality, courage, perseverance, resolution, de^^miined to see 
 all it oan see, to know all it can know, at all *- ;:iirds, at all 
 expense of Ume and means within its ifeaoh, makes repeated and 
 vigorous effi>rts to look into the nature of things, into these 
 knotty questions, and it often succeeds. Aud this is the kind 
 of mind that will succeed, and no othei can be verv successful 
 in intellectual advancement. And this is why miliionB of our 
 fellow race live and die ignorant of the simplest truths, in 
 Politics, Domestic government. Literature and Religion; 
 Knowledge hcu its price I Therefore, when perception, thus 
 engaged m the pursuit of a certain subject or thing, assumes that 
 ipodification which represents the truth of the case, it must be 
 remembered tliat such discovery is not the result of a sudden 
 and eai^ transition into the depth of such subject, or into the 
 nature of such thing, but ra^^er it is to be considered as the 
 result of arc^ent and p}*o^re««ive research. 
 
 8ee» 22 ; The different stages through i/ohidi the mind 
 pcissesi But to be a little more explicit, and to piace our views 
 beifore the reader, in such a way as to preclude the possibility of 
 any misiinderstanding, we would observe that, the idea is &is. 
 When this inconceivably swift transition of the perceptive 
 
52 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMOBY. 
 
 'i ^1 
 
 
 ! « 
 
 faculty is made from the present existenoe of the man, to some 
 cireumstance of which the mind has only a land of general 
 outline, its progress appears to be at once arrested the moment 
 it arrives at the object of its pursuit. Having but the general 
 outlines to direct its course, and the authority of the will .to 
 direct its action, and having arrived at the territory, to be ex- 
 plored, or having struck upon the compound, and aa the per* 
 ceptive faculty can only go in one channel atthesame>^imey it 
 must now proceed to examine its parts, and every eampl6|Murt 
 too, which make up this comipound, in order that it ]](i^jHitight 
 upon the circumstances of which the mind requires iull and 
 correct details to serve its present purpose, ^he pereispti^e 
 faculty, having entered upon the special work now . before ity 
 progresses through itS: various stages ^till it arrives at the centre, 
 or More properly speaking, till, as we commonly siajj! we partly 
 remember, tliat is, we partly peroeive again that whioli hajs beeii^ 
 under our observation before. There is evidently am intelloo- 
 tual state of this kind which we ftlwayap^s through ill, remem- 
 b^ering, though at certaintimes,. owii^ priAci|)<i<lly.to, llmiafltt- 
 eT^ce of habit, that is to Isay, b^ng so habiituated to certain in- 
 tellectual channels the mind passes through them with such 
 rapidity, and ease, that we are not conscious either of the 
 progress that it makes, nor the stages through which it p«fis^ 
 in those easy transits. But yet it is true] that we alwayis ex- 
 perience that state of partial remembrance, beCcure we fuUy re- 
 member anything. Yet we are not conscious of that^stttteotily 
 when it encounters those obstacles which are sufficient to sensibly 
 arrest the progress of the mind. Now, if the obstacles are not 
 of that nature wh^ich compels .the peixjsptive faculty to retire and 
 abandon the attempt of further investigation ; but only appear 
 to be such as can be removed, perception continues to progress 
 til] it arrives to the uttermost extent of the subject or dung to 
 be investigated, or rather, till it fiilly perceives all those refer- 
 rences, dependencies, relations, and facts that lay, for the pres- 
 ent time within our reach. ,< 
 
 • Sec. 23 .\ Upon what our 8ucces» prindpaUy depends. 
 The progress iipwever which the perceptive faculty ;aaiakes in its 
 investigation into t^e nature of things depends, (Ist) ^pon the 
 natural strength of the intellectual faculties;. There is avaat 
 difference in this respect, both among tl^ hujnan &mily ; and 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 &8 
 
 also among the lower animals of tlie same species. It 
 depends, (2nd) upon the nature of the subject to be investigated. 
 For as extensive physical combinations of a great many elemen- 
 tary properties render such compound more difficult of analyza- 
 tion ; so also it is with the mind, the more items connected 
 with the subject under consideration, the more obstacles will be 
 in the way or the inind's' progress. Yet we Often find it to be 
 the case, in meeting with ordinairy obstructions, thdugh the 
 penetrating faculty is arrested, yet iti8 stay is short, and its 
 passage through them, comparatively easy ; but at other times 
 obstacles, in the way of th^ mind's progress, are presented of 
 greater magtaitude and more iii httmber. Those frustrate and 
 embarrass and consequiently hinder the progress of the mind 
 for a, greater length of time. Hehce, partial retnembrance 
 does not imply that thoughts are partly aroused from their dor- 
 mant condition, but that in such an intellectual state We partly 
 ■ perceive thibesi--'^"'*'' ii^tm,A♦yb5.»«4> rtenl-y p-;'-vu-t:f!, t-m^rotj ft-' 
 
 fifec. 24 ;- ' Jtfej^ry a htanh without consciouiness. The 
 inOHiOry Would be^perfect blanks notwithstanding the exist- 
 ence, activity, and penetrating power of the perceptive faculty, 
 were it not for the existence and oontiiiufil action of cohscious- 
 ncas. For while it itf the business of the peroeptibn to' go itito the 
 past apd pereeiiv6, and investigate certain circumstances which 
 the sotil irequires for its immediate uisiB ; the adtion of consci- 
 Ottsnei^s is hidispensible to constitute that dtate of mind which 
 We call remembran^. iW action is required that we may 
 know whetheir su6h bircumstanoe^ taow "under the mind's obser- 
 vation, was eter tiilkder our obset*Tati6n before ; and whether it 
 was ever investigated in any part of our past life. If it were 
 not for the action of this feoulty which We call consciousness we 
 should be continually per^slexed with unoettainties, and never 
 ciouldkiiow Whether anythi% which we nowperoeivfe, was ever 
 before the inind in any former period or not, or whether it origi- 
 nated yesterday, or twenty years ago. But cbtiscibusness, which 
 is an essential element of the soul, is also a constituent part of 
 the memory, whose province it is to decide in all such cases; 
 and al^ to deoide ^c difference between real things and 
 
 linagitiaty ones. 
 
 i'i>,\,fx tf 5';'''ii t 
 
64 
 
 PHI5.0S0PHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 This may be illustrated by the following example, viz. : a 
 person perceives his having beei\ in the town hall, in the city 
 of London, in the Province of Canada, in the month of May, 
 and heard an eloquent and interesting lecture on a certain 
 subject. And again, he perc^ves himself to have stood by Paul, 
 the great Apostle of the Gentiles, in the country of the Bar- 
 barians, when the viper jumped out of the fire and fastened upon 
 his hand, and he shook it off and received no harm. Now, the 
 one case is a real thing, he perceived himself in the town hall 
 because he was there, and he was there when he perceived him- 
 self to be tJiere, so that it is the perception of a fact and not of a 
 phantom ; but the other, though it is an acknowledged fact in 
 sacred history, in reference to Paul and the viper ; in reference 
 to his being there vriiAi Paul and at the time of the circumstance, 
 is purely imaginary. And how does the soul come to know the 
 difference between this fact and this phantom? There is 
 inward consciousness which decides with irresistible authority, 
 that although both circumstances alluded to really exist in past 
 time, yet only one of them was ever before the mind, as a fact 
 connected with its own life. And from this decision there is 
 noplace of appeal, and no power in the soul to dissent — ^no 
 disposition to murmur — -no ground of complaint, it is r^arded 
 by the soul as a settled truth, and remains as such. Hence, 
 though we cannot remember without the action of the percep- 
 tive faculty ; neither c n we without the interference and 
 prompt decision of consciousness. But we cannot conceive that 
 anything more is required to constitute the act of rememberii]^, 
 and anything less than the mutual co-operation of these two 
 Acuities, would not be sufficient to answer the purpose. 
 
 See. 25 .* Pereeption in the past also assumei different 
 forms. It should be observed also that the pere^tive while en- 
 gaged in the past as well as when in the future, often appetirs to 
 be burdened with strai^ and perplexing imaginations. When- 
 ever a oiroumstanoe is supposed to have transpired, of which we 
 possess but a faint conception of its genwal outlines, which 
 conceptions are often the result of involuntary mental action, 
 the particular business of the peroeptiiw faculty is to go in 
 search of its details. Now, whatever it perceives in. that sphere, 
 or channel, in which it moves through past life, it presents to 
 the mind, whether such are real circumstances or whether they 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 55 
 
 are merely imagiDary. It does not appear +o he the business 
 of the perception to raake selections in the general of appropri- 
 ate items to present to the soul, while it acts in the capacity of 
 memory. This intellectual state, or rather, these modifications 
 of the mind which we represent by the terms, selection and 
 application, or " collecting our thoughts," &c., which terms ex- 
 press that state of the mind which we call reasoning, appears to 
 have nothing to do in the direct act of remembering. For it 
 is not for the soul to act upon the principle of selection of items 
 in remembering, as much as to say, Is it pleasant to admit this 
 or that circumstance as a part of past experience? But it is for 
 consciousness to settle the question in regard to the simple fact; 
 which it invariably does whenever the perceptive faculty extends 
 itself to all the circumstances conaected with 1^ ca«e, Uiat are 
 necessary to produce a verdict. 
 
 Now, it would appear that when the soul is engaged in a 
 course of reasoning, and when we particularly stand in need of 
 the assistance of the memory ; for reasoning requires a compli- 
 cation of circumstances that are principally in the past to prove 
 the point in hand; that the mind coUeots and holds these 
 circumstances before it for the time beipg, by an unusual e£fort 
 of its own. This hbwever,-is ndt true. The mind does indeed put 
 forth vigorous efforts, owing to the intense interest which it feels 
 in the subject, but it is not to hold before it those thoughts 
 like so many soldiers in battle array ; but to adapt its increased 
 activity to the circluustanoes required. This state of mind 
 then, which we call rectsoning is in a great measure the result 
 of the increased, rational, regular, and systematical activity of 
 the perceptive faculty. 
 
 SeCi 26 ; Jlaw trantition can he proved. In times of very 
 deep interest, j^hich are occasionally experienced by the soul, 
 when the perceptive has to fly into the past with its uttermost 
 speed in search of truths, which are at the present moment 
 required ; it would be impossible for the most discriminating, 
 the most acute, and the most "retentive" mind to form any 
 conception of its speed and power, in those extraordinary cases. 
 Nevertheless, in all ordinary oases its transitions are obvious. 
 And more especially are they to be seen in cases in which the 
 soul takes but little interest. Seeing this is the case, we come to 
 
56 
 
 PHILOSOPHY UF THE MEMORY. 
 
 the oonolusion that inasmux. i as in matters of little interest, the 
 transition of the perceptive faculty can be traced into the past, 
 and also in matters of ordinary interest there is a consciousness 
 of transition identified with the act of remembering ;. and as 
 the soul has but one general mode of operation in remember- 
 ing things, rtmenibering is done in all cases^by the transition of 
 the perceptive faculty into the past. Increased motioii in the 
 perceptive faculty is all that istequired of that part' of the 
 memory in the time of the soul's most important reasonings. 
 For; it makes no difference, in a course of reasoning, wheii the 
 memory is called to action, whether a circuiiistancc lays as high 
 by our present existence as ycStferday, or fifty years fr-^m us, 
 if the velocity of the perceiving faculty cim be increast^ ir 
 projpiortion to l3ie distance ol" each circumstance, an(? the 'num- 
 ber of the whole that may be necessary to meet the emergency 
 of the case. The extension of the perceptive faculty mto the 
 paiit it) any oodceSvabte distance, appeltrtt Whe & natural tction, 
 and therefore quite ^y ; b^t those tran^itioiial reactions which 
 are necessary to bd ittade'fr6m one drcumstan^ to anoth'^i, 
 and tilie jselection th:;t always needs to h6 madid, to form a coh 
 necting link between them, and more especially to become 
 expert and judicious in making those sehi^nSjU the Ifesult, 
 at least to a great extent, of pi*acti(«, which m this, as well as 
 in otli^t departments of life, comparatively speaking, mak^ 
 ^<«perfect." 
 
 ■iJrt.'tJlif. ilf- 
 
 7rJi»'>.i;^ 
 
 ^.di 
 
 Sir* 
 
 9 li 
 
 
 
 H K 
 
 
 B f 
 
 S i' 
 
 B K' 
 
 9 f^ 
 
 ^■v' 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 ^H 
 
 K 
 
 1 
 
 li 
 
 ■tij;4 VJ- 
 
 ■ '. J . ^.■' 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY; 
 
 67 
 
 .!'- «; 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 ■i-<r.. f,4J '■i 
 
 JK5 T|f|B.pU5|K»ENT DEGREES OF DEOEPT^ION.,:!!^. WHICH 
 
 a 
 
 ■ ■■■'A\A Ts^inJcrf!. ' ' , .■ ,. : ,-• . •■■: ■ 
 
 Seci,\: Adeceitfvi 0r treacJierouk 9}iemory. This iiitel- 
 ieoiju^l state, so far as w^ can discovery does not appear to be 
 ptoduoed by any natural, M Toluntairy treaiohery by the per- 
 ceiviiug powers of the mind. For although there is a difiiBr^aoe 
 in the nature of the; perceptions, acoordii^ to the different 
 modificatious of the p^xseptive faculty ; yet evetj rational 
 being must ^z\, must see, must loaow that there is a marked 
 difference ^etn^e&u |)erceiving a thing in reidity, suohas; i& man 
 peroeiycs himdelf to be the same man that he is, sitting by his 
 own fire side, eatfng at his own table, or oonversing with his 
 own family ; all of which are facts perceived by, cr, leather through 
 the senses; or he magines himself toi be another man j a king 
 or a b^^ar, a general in the rmy or a private soldier, or far 
 from home, a stranger and forsaken, or immersed in wealth, hav- 
 ing suddenly oec Ji^ heir to a large fortune, and concludes t^ pur- 
 chase a large estate ; and if the difference between this phantom 
 and the fact is not perceived till after he thinks he h»i; purchased 
 the estate, it will be when he puts his hand in his pocket for 
 his cash, or issues his cheque on the bank. The same result will 
 follow in all similar]oases, because, " /a(U8 are stubborn things " 
 For whenever we perceive a cireum^tance , in th^ past, that is 
 real, we feel the action of consciousness de'isiding to that effect. 
 And though we might try with all our native energies, fhei 
 judgment having been given from this source, we can no more 
 doubt i^e lapt than we can doubt otir own existence* For as 
 the fact haB been perceived, and fdt anq knowii as suoh^ it 
 beoomep a-n estab&hed truth througl^the whcde empire of 
 the soul 
 
58 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 Sec. 2 : What interest may do in the soul, Tiiousrh tlie 
 facts, in reference to the soul's decision in regard to real things 
 or imag'iiiai'y ones, it is nevertheleiis true that interest might 
 lead US; as it. has thousands of others, to conceal the truth, aud 
 it miglit lead us to deny that truth to others, who niiglit desire to 
 know it, or to modify it, or express it amhiguously ; neverthe- 
 less, it is still the tr^jth, aud the mind knows it and feels its 
 force, and tacitly bows to Its supreme authority. Now, this 
 internal submission of ihi-:- soul to the truth, as a truth, though 
 not always for the sake ci truth, is invariably the case with all 
 men whenever they peweive a real circumstance in the past, 
 th9.c \z to say, whenever they remember any thing. But when 
 we merely "think we remember," we are in another intellec- 
 tual state altogether. For here we find ourselves surrounded 
 with doubts, and |)erplexed with fears. Now, in this state of 
 mind, if our interest, and man in his present fallen condition is 
 very much inclined to follow that, diould lead us to prefer the 
 image instead of the real thing, the mind will in course of time 
 become deoinved. And the preference which we thus give, 
 will lead to a very important intdlectual action, that is to say, 
 he will be led to receive that for a real thing which in fact had 
 is9 origin in nothing but imagination. For although that in- 
 tense interest which led the soul wrong in the first place, may 
 not exist to the same extent twenty years afterwards, and at 
 that period the same kind and degree of interest may not exist 
 at all, so as to prove any impediment to a perception of the 
 true state of things ; yet the mind having acouired the habit of 
 assuming suchmodifications in connection witHluch a subject and 
 though these modifications do not present the fact, yet through 
 the influence of habit, created in the first place hy self-interesty 
 the present form has become fastened to the mind and passes 
 ,aa the truth, though it is not the truth. And notwithstanding 
 the soul's intention may be honest, at the time now alluded to, 
 and may prefer the truth; yet through its own voluntary 
 impositions produced by selfish motives, practised upon the 
 judgment in former days, the soul may be consigned to de<^eptioh 
 on that point, and which is, to all appearance, not unfrequently 
 the case, as long as life and being last in their present form, "for 
 whatsoever a'man soweth that t^all he also reap." This decep- 
 tion may be imposed upon the mind in a manner similar to the 
 following, viz.: Interest leads the wiU, or more properly 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 59 
 
 speaking, the will prefers the image, clioofles the fbrm presentecl, 
 and it is well known that the will controls, to a very great^extent, 
 the other faculties of the soul, especially at certain times. Now, 
 although the perceptive faculty would as readily present the 
 real truth, as the modification thereof, by imi^nation, yet the 
 continual preference of the will to the image, and the aumority, 
 which at such times it can exert over the percq>tive faculty, 
 tends to produce that modification, both in kind and degree, 
 which at every presentation places the truth further firom the 
 mind. And this form of mind under such circumstances is 
 generally very active, and can be made to present any congenial 
 forms ; seeing that it can bend any way, and can go to any 
 extravagance. And it appears also to be governed principally 
 by .present ruling eniotions, whatever may be their nature. 
 
 :i, ,-,.■;.. 
 
 Sec 3 .* Is the soul deceived cU once, or 6y decrees f It 
 must not be supposed that in thus remembering and in thus 
 being deceived, that the lamth immediately disappears, fer this 
 cantiot be the case. Because, it is reasonable to conclude that 
 in every case of this kind, via : of self deception, the soul must 
 be the subject of opposite and extremely painful feelings. And 
 what produces this inward struggle is this : tiie natural tenden- 
 cy of the soul to the truth, which prfnci]»le the conscience of 
 every man tells him should be prefer^d to falsehood. In con- 
 sequence of this ruling principle of our nature, notwithstanding 
 the selfish interest of the soul to the contrary, will occasionally 
 be presented, that is to say, the perceptive j^ulty mWnow and 
 then assume a true and correct form. - And therefore to perfect 
 such deception, it requires a vigorous effort of the wiU to 
 oppose the truth, to modify it, ana to misrepresent it to the soul. 
 For I presume that every person's experience will goto Say 
 that it requires no effort of the mind to an internal adcnow- 
 ledgment of the truth, althongh it might, to give an outWard 
 expression to it. But to reject the truth tttwar€%, and erp^ 
 it from the mind, requires not onl^ an effort, but a desperate 
 one. And before it can become easy to the soul, and the con- 
 science be quieted and put to rest, it will require a long course 
 of intellectual violence tb be used against thiis invaluable prin- 
 ciple. This can be proved by reference to our experience in 
 all matters relating to practical morality, but more especially by 
 referring to o\;r youthful days. A child who has been taught 
 
r 
 
 i< 
 
 «o 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 Ill the home oirole hy his parents and friends, to respect the 
 truth, and never to tell a lie^ knows well what amount of effort 
 it cost him when he first made up his mind to equivocate, or 
 modify any truth, or especially when he resolved to tell a lie, 
 how many restless hours, how many pangs of conscience, how 
 many chills ran through his hlood, how many soher thoughts 
 on what a fond mother, an^ affectionate^ father, kind brothers 
 fuid losing ^ters have told htm in refeirenee to the conse^ 
 quenoea of telling a lie. Yes, his cc^tations would alight upon 
 the hour 1 of Sabbath School, its appropriate leMonis, ^e teach- 
 er 'S advice, the miperintendent's exhortation ; and f^om there 
 to the circulating library, what warnings have been given to 
 others^ what punishments have foUcnif ed ' and. befell the disobe- 
 dientji the disgraoe he has brou^t. upon himself^ and the grief 
 that he has brought upon his parents, teachers and friends, 
 BAd ft thoi^Mtnd ! thoughts of a similar nature and t^ndest'cy, 
 will {HerCeikfm. tike daggers . plun^i]^ itohis h^t, producing 
 alarmittg^fMHTB^ oooasiotMl regrets, trembling neryesy awfid;ifore^ 
 bodingsy'thesueni teary a moimentaiy rd|)entance, di partial re^ 
 tr^ but ftibex xeQalvd, ifiid; tnith,.;aiy a&!&cte<^^ ^ ugam 
 JP^|[«llsedo?Ht-3? hi'nnrq vj ■ ,\i"s>y::j bjtu 'i.Mr'Vjifn'if !-.;j^!i;h''''ift 'ni 
 
 ; i8^4 4i.% ; mhe^sfrw/ifflf it Ung^ repeated, and^vohinteny^ 
 But ^s struggle is not itf ecdiy one of a moment land then 
 patttoSi awaiy to he no 4qoi!9 s^en ; it iis repeated, and although 
 irith diminished foroC) is neventlieless cogent, brings with it 
 O^nvictioli andit^emonsttance. which may be feltfby ;the epul 
 for j«su»i .Mk^) i^fi treason of this isbeoanse the truths though 
 ^p0Uisd,;;iHll occasii^naUy b» s^Uj and when it is seefi the soul 
 jpAturfdly iDcUnes tp; th«itt . Hence, when the real circilmstance 
 is percc^yeii in its tfue and prq^r light, the will interferes 
 nmdt^lDiftliiiAirepftkfid. J !6tut ^e other fonnwhich has been 
 DAodiM to sui^. the. si^sh ipxOmm of the soul, is indulged 
 Pttk^ cherisheA-hy the j»me iiusultj;, vi^ ;; % the preferring or 
 choosing. pow<«f ofithe sieult iAwd; Iqr a repetition of this pro- 
 oess 4fc»<{which' in reality is >ut a phantom, by a constant 
 succe^sioRjof prcisentations,; by the direction and authority of- 
 the.witt;<itfipro<3ess:Qf time,, may actually pass in the soul for 
 an estab^ii^hed l^ruth, with theper^n who has allowed himself 
 to practice this course of deception. Though what we have 
 here stated is possible, yet this must be regarded more. as an 
 
PHTLOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 6f 
 
 mor^.as an 
 
 ez^ejii^^n ttiaaa9 a^i^^nl.ruiK ' Vpt in most oases of Temem- 
 beiing, tlio^gh imaginatioii may be ever so aotite, some faint 
 tractef of ihe jbruti may be found. And thmiffVthi's is liot its 
 easily, su8eepq|i>je^ proof as inany other tbin^ in riatnrie, Vbt. 
 a careful o&aerver o^ buxhan dottduot, b^ tlOdng |iart1ibuW 
 notice of countenance, gestures, and frequently a de^iWof 
 en^i;ras8inent ^lat attaobes to t|ie person, who relates, a 
 oire^ii^lanQe in whioh be W deeply ihtei^^Bi^ied, will be liolly 
 justed in opminjKjfco IIms coiiclttsion. Nevertheless it is ail 
 uniYC9»a)|y acicnowl^dged irntli. tbait tb6 iskM it^ m^ tbe^ 
 naii|^ Pl?^®'^ of tbe Aiemoiry'iiie mor^ tiHel ani ddbdved by it, 
 ani^^i» more ^e pr^^ce 4«&I^ti6n oti oiie ft(mHy of tb^'soiU^ 
 th^ Wier \i oany M d^po "Offi^ indtbcaf^ anii so on u]^n all. 
 Apa>Q ti fp^ows iM^9 soul, irhbiie buiuntf tendenc^'ili to 
 tm^yiBJ wat^ ^ a obnimoh leVel, may b^ debeired relative td^^ 
 th^g^ ^bipi^Li^ has SM and thus create bt iC 
 
 own yo%iWy eff^H that state dT ii&Ptital cl^n^gement ^hS^ 
 we ^llfi'i^yM^ But if a miafi is sp deceived W 
 
 the iuem|[^tj,as to observe a pblbitdm iliBtead of aihet, and id 
 in^uipea^ tp m^ye ih<^ phantom foi^ the ikcl, the bWie, a8 d' 
 genem t^iAg^^ Inhere is ceilaitily a>rdn|^ soitie^ 
 
 w^ece, ^t i^t wri^ng |s not in nature; its ori^n nifty b^ 
 att^)ated t9 ibe pi^bininanoy of Vibluikif^ selfish prin6iple^ 
 
 '% 
 
 -li>r'-:r; 
 
 i&<;;. 5,: ^/oUeif&rfMMtiumed tv t%4 miudJ It i^o^ild 
 be OD^jrved also t3^t after liavin^' ^t^ht ISbie mind to priuiitice 
 deception jiy sueh a. rigorous di^ipl^ibe, Md violent ana i^|>^t- 
 ed, Qut)rag^; bi]| our mental nature, it will.lbebome ba^^ td. thd 
 PfTc^tJlvei^m^^ and alihidtiiigh the;|ttd|ibent 
 
 oau im^f 4«ci4€i tbai/l£&t whioh ^tieftrs t6 thd sout'to bb a 
 ^)se lonn is & ti^ onoi jfet, by hftvi& It M oohs^btty tiiider 
 the ipbscmtioh iu» a sub^t^^U^ fdir ^e truibj^iifbry.fhpm^^ 
 pp^r pf^ jBouI may eyent^aUy lose Sdi fiviplk of itstistivef 
 strpi^R^i vitality, ima acUto^ on^^i^f )>c)mJ7^^a9tobboome de- 
 oeiv4^/m : the soul isln a wrong poieln6n-7-iE»sunies improper 
 aU^lnborreot mo^^ftbpns. ' 4-i^a biB(viiE%;b^n deceived by 
 sucli i iei^ble proJDols in any giyen case, f he ilnagiitation, which 
 W been a prominent agent of the mtlm the one instance, and 
 when that agency, in that form and d^pree, is quite acceptable 
 to the will, or preferring. or choosing part of me soul, as we 
 
 p 
 
¥'^ 
 
 C2 PHI J4OSOPHY , OF TIU^ J^^I^IOftX' 
 
 bpth in.c^raQtctr audi circmimtancefll to which siibli dooeption 
 
 bered thai'in thp above cases,' an^ ii^^aD 'caa^s of a,8iiililar 
 nature, the j^lj^jli^ pot to be attribu^ci t^ thi^ iki^on, ' 5tti( to 
 the wiitf The p^y^Qep]tiye f^Hl^ p^ .^^^^^K ^^*^*^^*! ,"* ^^^T®" 
 8eQtatj[<m8,£b thcjai|r\^j w^en^ U ^c|b , in Jft^s W single 
 
 fonn, and ;(»o bth^^foW.^P^ars' to oe n^b^iji^ar^'iti iWchrn^ 
 for past ftv^nk jie§|Ag>hat ii;|3 %ite M^ V^ 1^^^^^ 
 perception m its^i«im« form |^nyarial>iy sedfches for fitotfi i^hd 
 not mr ^ihai^tomg^ Xnd- ^j^^wM^ jrhiih ^ \M <^ther V;dn>- 
 sUiiiiieut, part of meinbry, cannot TO'oriti^i po£,<mvW fibom its 
 
 I 
 
 nd ci>nnot be any qtW , if»^. ' Neither cm tonscwwmeroh 
 iijit t^sjlfiii^^ exCj^^ ijb IS ^oijb % 'a^loiiig^9dnJtfhtie<J violet 
 trac^i^ ,^n our mep.tej.fl^aitujrfl 1^ tli6''^rDiwary |W^br of tb 
 
 will, mrfpfjftt^djy 
 
 those modificaiiohs 
 
 lion ; and by this course of action lose sigl 
 
 then, fin. fuch case tl|i^ ^^fs, Po^ponscious ,of the truth. So 
 
 th^l u^aer su9)i fi.c^iLmi^^nce , as this^ V^Uip 6onl»qiousn ^^y . 
 
 in4e^dj[)e !saH to ;iie sUeAce<), and the f<^iUt i^'thbinbiiiidi^ 1$ 
 
 ' . served, or 03, w«| (CqwpiQ^iiy s^iy, " it has deceived- us. ^ AAd 
 
 yet tJ»cjre are Wi^j^ ^h^d depeptiou Myotiil TfhicH i&e ^td 
 
 oaunqtCgo; Fpjr after all the e^certiona . ^ait, the indst ^J^H- 
 
 ed w^ mjugM )(nake. prompted by self-intei^^ and ii^flimied m 
 
 ^ y citciiniitefceii 6on- 
 
 _^ -^ .,j._ _. ^^., _„^..^,_^^._^ , ^ IrWther his is' vMu- 
 
 QUS or. Hawked, ikhoranVw wise,'p|ous or prdJu^cl iidiistribtis 
 or indolentj r»phpr^r,|b<m<pft or diajdn^ajt, ihAt Will dwjiys 
 be ^n, wien.jihev-^r^ 'la^n at. all, jii their ^^^rAlid'p^opt 
 character. %\ii these are gehera^y suXik circ^tnstah'ces as, to 
 use a farniliar figure, have taken a 'Vdeep hdld (if the mfedv*' 
 By which we mean that from the deeply interesting and exdt- 
 
PttltokbPftY Oi" THE l^IKlVIOlllY. 
 
 63 
 
 in j[ nat^re .bf,,^p^b,,Qf rc^»i>8(i>nces, aijd % iiknadny which 
 6X18(19, Ih meyepc^ 4o >»qK cmjp, b^twetn the m'ehiorjr and the 
 willp i|[^ ijit^P^alcjd iijy^tiga^i^i^R thereof, that i^rough hahit 
 the ^ransi^ion^, 10. ih^^ course :Qf jtiipne^ h^pae 'Me'ziii^ecnngl^ 
 easy, and the peroeptive fabul'ty fio acGd8tom6<j( io^ 
 the consciousness to decide on a certain jpoint, inat'it is heyoiid 
 the power oftiof^ son^ to turi^ the tide of ohjiervjition^ froip its 
 acoustoined chamieL ancf therefore' ^en tKing^ are not 
 
 ISeei 7: Mfmifry ctecett/u^ip^v f [,.'&^^ relaily^ , to the 
 deceitful m^moiy of y hiqh ^ we speak,, v;e would add that, by 
 att^tiop ^t]^is pul^e<;t^n' honest. i)iindwi)i{t>^ that 
 
 soine^w^ areeaf to^^ mf^^r^^^ as 
 
 it ooourp, find a«,ti^ej( i!;new it.dw pccu^^^ it to 
 
 hcL either diriBGjfcly oir iiidirectty" connected wAH- thew Ititer^. 
 ^ . , v.^^ ,>^ A.^,*^.^ < -^p6rtioW^inankiftd 
 
 (^i;ciaiiiistanbes« ■ For 
 j^ .^ qiaia<iatiTrinjL of dijilp- 
 maiic . jbtercoarse' , of laWe ^yernmeht contracts' and so on 
 
 by^hh- 
 xjonscfetice 
 
 by^ 'ui^g^tiat til to* tcl.?^f ^he sub- 
 
 ject pesoaucie' ih^ mJ9''d[w\d\ iif^^ morethaTi a Wh is 
 
 oompeiled to, ten'eyeiyt|itngr Me rknoWg i^ att tiiattigra becayise 
 hQ may Have told ^b'lae thinetf in som^ Uttc^^ ' Oir else it is 
 
 teedyre c(o tHc'nk an injtiry |rf imposing 'ti^pbtt' thefi^en^^ 
 2nd, that im5|ogi«bii :on 'm^^^ jjidgihprt? ma'f Wd fo an 
 injury lii their ciwujlastahceg ^ way of loss sustaine<i ; Si'd, 
 there is an Injury doiic to iheir feelings, they are Grounded, 
 
64 PfllWSOPHy OF THK MBMORY . 
 
 offond^d. and grieyed. And w^t greatly augments tho, moral 
 guilt of the jpraotio^l deceivei^ is, it 10 u^utpeoted, uiijprbVpked, 
 and of oou^rte unqalled ^or. Bijt whtld the mind is soiintent 
 Qni deoeiying otIierB, to gratifj its owtt flor<lld aiidielfls]^ mo- 
 tives. U will inyanablv paliii, ^I^etlier it/ Intends it dr hot, a 
 
 of.4Meption upon itself. 
 
 •I i*.^'! .!•• ' :•(■»* 1 1' 
 
 /^. 8 .' 0/ different anfljutt irtwatdi, Biit in mosb such 
 cases it appears Suti meh ar6 trying to deceive themselves, 
 cither hy trying to make themselves believe that thlhgii are as 
 they ^present tHeo^ to others: 0^^ i^ they ai;e not^thatitis 
 rigl^t fpir them to represent them in ' that li^ht, '«W^ '^^ 
 qthen. 4^ *o, and ihat it is greatly to, their ibtereat 'id! do the 
 same!. . Ani in thia way, fW>m $im^ to time, wo ban ioajbilv learn 
 from c6nyersaii<^ wiih iiien| t|iiduiey inyiUi this sta^ of linind 
 by . yo)^n^rily prao^islngp'subh n^lnrepreetatatiOns,. and thereby 
 dec^iive itiemselycfl, an4 iA«^ PV ^ ^dfcetve , iKenisetvdif they 
 hm /atBehffoiif mA at & v^ty deir ra^ i^, cindfdt ttnoL' All 
 mcA who are disponed ^ db rigliit, take tlie bptipntti; course, 
 becam they/^fe'tiie'ti^^^^ 8elF|i',^t.'V Tb^^ it 
 
 a^ut i^l^eirln^k&fhey chain it to their aiaiiSy'iheywntb' it pn 
 
 mbrar 
 
 such persons ' reap neb'' diambi^Sy (nyiyttable pj^rls, 
 s jewels, brilliant latirels, and tmtnbr^f l^^fWie^ m their 
 
 1 
 
 bh^ interest, tbi(>ngii even iii Uili, m liiipiety-nina cakes but of 
 a hundred, they prove ueniflelves mistaken, and vet they seem 
 to r^oioCj 11^ eyenr (itaj^ of mi (|e6$ip^0|i. And it is not verv 
 
 ||a;^ow^ 
 
 yicjtory m : 
 
 ipo ;'j|^ut a! -,...,-,- ^^,^;- - -, .. rrr'.u • ' .-t r 7T"» r-.- ■-" n ' '^ ^- 
 ejrof . ' ^ii|t wi^t' is the, j^esufij , loss of ifite^^ li^^^^. 
 
 we herfi mu^e, tot it is an in^posi^iop ^ on the intellept^ violence 
 4one to the moral nature, (Jba insulted, man deceived,Va|lniu9ed, 
 and wronged ; loss of confidence b^ all the better ^lass of society. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 65 
 
 a person tf ho. will thus lie to himself and to others, will not ho 
 really respected hy any ; loss of ehjoj^ent, no man can be 
 happy without ^ends ; loss of character, tab matl lias a duirac- 
 ter tnat is worth a fig unless he is oountehahc^od hy the intclli- 
 gont, respeotabte, moral, and religious portion of dommunitv. 
 And does he not get his reward ? But time wtould fall to tell, 
 for in many instanoes Eternity only will devdop the results 
 and show the oonseqiiendeB of such nienial dbuie/ 
 
 •t t"!'.'' 
 
 Sec. .' The diffiekdtiei under whitK iot labour fiom thlt 
 state D/mind at the prennt time are great. One .incoiiviBnience 
 under which Hii^e labour, and Wch arises from thli^te of mind 
 is, the wantqftHat truth, in its plain, n'4k^ ibrmj ind in i^hich 
 light we once peiioeived it, but cftnifiot haVe it nQM^f be^atise it has 
 become so mixed np with error ' that It! ioalniibt im scivered there- 
 from. And however vahikble it may be ib 8efVe'the:|)resent 
 purposes of life, the soiiil cannot have it ttoiri' " Th^' tble tnay 
 have arrived f6r the soul tomourh over its itnpi^denoe 'ihd past 
 follies tbuohiA^this mtftter, but no Ubpur, h'o iMtnduht of aniiety^ 
 can plkc0 it within reach of tl^e. mind f^in^ and self-con- 
 demn^ the'soul must do the bedt it c/an Wiihout it. ' If the 
 person haslaboured to deceive miQ/wlft he ibM uow. beghi tp i%el 
 someof theconsequ^noes;'*'^'''^^^^ • .■•... r,'»,r» ,.: T^u ..,.>,::■ 
 
 And thia oftdn proved a vetr serious injury i6a nifoVc^iti^c- 
 tor. $Ui>po8e, for e^mple, thitt a olrcumst^ucd o6bdhi^[ say; 
 severiEd years'ago. to whuh Wte were' iiyi6^WitneBs, And 0intt)bee:W9 
 thought ni that'iime that It w^idd lieryifi our intei:ei^ to pit sdme 
 degree df misconstruction on it, an<l'tHed't6 ihrnlt'ltere -^fp iio^ 
 harm'in' it,' and puppose ire commence to. jiofiid^ tfiMt'inis^oii- 
 stiNic^onf, andiM>utiii|ii^tbT<evolv6 tt in thi^'n^lhd i^nw*^ tii^^t 
 thai in that ]|)Iausit>]e foM We mlj^t be 66iibpivrfttiVJ^ inift i 
 teilii^ft Wooers. Afffit te^nHt bidce iii 'tiliis'Mi^tod^rin, 
 knowing 'it was not, oorreb^, ySr,' to app^r bb^l^tdJift, wheh 
 relitingiiWii HmiutbeitQldidflifetoU^Wgy; MirM tHis 
 timein^'iref^h^leto^m 
 huinaiiCond!u<^inh>V^lt tlji&f thd'^ui^^ 
 ^enbb lii its ^d^irt^kiiig,' aid feeU li^Ht to l^ui^d^^ ^^r 
 pblfgiiiio^s tb'r^ate th^ ci;if6uiAsiEidce the third tim^'sigref^e to 
 the two fornier times; this must also be done to ap^iir cbtisSsit^ht. 
 Thus having related the circumstance severaltiiheSy and iu 
 
rv 
 
 H'- 
 
 ri 
 
 M 
 
 rt 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE >||JMORY. 
 
 different places, the man is driven to one- of three things, Either 
 (1) to abandon the,,siib]^jt altogether aqisl a»^ |it jisfprgot^n, 
 which is a very di^c^lf thijftg, and nejtt. io ^Ji ipipQS8iHHty,,for 
 h^ could not ftuji U^ cprnpAit himself upon j^eing interrogated, 
 especially as Ife ha^openly jprofessed to hay.e ^vitn^ssed. such 
 cirquinstattce. Xr)>Q' else jhe must deny of ^ver haymg know^ 
 the subject at f|ily or any part of it, and'this he cbiildriotdo 
 without proving hi^jpiflelfgunty^ffobricaJi^Wtl^^ (3) Or 
 
 else he must come out and frankly confess mte imth, viz.: that he 
 has misreprefjented It to. himself and to, ptj^er^, atjiing which to 
 the jaioflt of men is very bayd to be, 'ioAe.; .. H^»<p,e,. the same 
 principle/ <«(/f-tVferes^, wlu£;h prfmp^ to misrepresent in the 
 first place, eqntinu(^ to , urge : him forward, jfchati he may repeat 
 the same kiiid bt T^preaejit^tioj^ .' (^ pnly availi^tble. means to 
 save his credit, JBut. hayii^banimeUed th^ mind in t^e outset, 
 it will be no yery diffioult matter fift^ri^afd^^opyerahoot the 
 mark, which ifudeed is, judging ijrom human conduct,, too often 
 done. But supjiQ^e ,yre. carry thfs, m^^tef; fi little further, and 
 imagine that when the. circumstance wa^ ^sf; ol^s^rrec^ that some 
 other person, stood by^ and observed i^ too. th6i|gh that person 
 was ui^noticed, andrtihe fa9t jof higrhavf ng beep there at that time 
 was entirely: i^pknpijr?! to vf'.-.-P^lV'*^^' several yjears hayipg 
 passed away, in the course of wtich time tpe mind Ijias inyariably 
 presented it in this irregular form, so that ihe real itiruth is lost. 
 Thajip^tp^q^y^, the n^pd ;ha^ fpr many yeare ass^^ed Up^rpper 
 modifi^a^j^ wHiicJ]L dpppt present tlie fap,^ %i a j^omy'hidh 
 greatly Jps^n^, its^fprj;^^/)^ i^nsJIg^t^^ fbreijgn matter or 
 
 irr^levahl* forina^ pd , ^te, , .pr^|l|^t .^iij^b^ifejj^tiop^ p I fiow, hot 
 
 asspnieql* ' , t^d .spppbap that, und^r , tliese , qircuiiistapces, we 
 "^"' t. i ii.r" . I ,/..».* i pcQurrience, 
 
 we 
 rquinstanice, 
 tp j))^epiiMip: JM tii;ues chfU'actei;,^;wt' w? can pply.'^ivp it jas we 
 have it J ^ipjijliat Js in iteirregulwrocip'ai! we^^a^^^ tjie several 
 yeais p^t )^e^ accust^Hfjed p^. yie^ " jt . "VJ^'i^ now wpuJd tihis 
 persop'l^ink^pf pur iiiitegrity wKp wiiiacesje^ Jbi>tycircupMtonces, 
 the first.if ^j^kpjace ana .the afeoiid.^ w^^ Wppld 
 
 he lppi|;ii]x>.n \^ as tepihg the't^ "Forjattkough 
 
 WQ might i,pd!e^d desire to tell the tVuik and at this time mij^t 
 be strongly ipcliped to believe it wa9 the <ifa</t, yet th^ strapger 
 could not see our motives,/or tlmy are hidden things^ and conse- 
 
PmLQSOPI^X OE THE J^EMORY. 
 
 67 
 
 quently wouH,notbe jurepaned to give us any credit for them, 
 but would judge lis accqralng ,to, the actions which )^e sees to b6 
 incdmpatiWe with il^e principles of truth. Now, 'all this we 
 justly charge upon the memory which has deceivedtis, but the 
 wilt or choosing pa*t of the soiul, in the ^st place is the cause for 
 having forced the j)erceptive out of its natutally inclined channel, 
 in whiieh by the same power it has boen kept till the truth is lo^t 
 to tho^oul. ;> >;fl -i^"^ ;- ^*i*; ^"-^^4 ■■'"_: "'^f ^' 
 
 &. 1 d ;'.' ' Qf coiiii^dmctcrif 'fh)idmce^. * Matiy of those con- 
 flicting and cbAtradictory ;statei*iertts that Are given in a ci\il 
 court, are the' ]reSult6f'tihls deception practised on the memory. 
 Not that every false state^nent that is given in evidence either 
 oil-, public o^c^ions or asserted t» irt pnyatp is tfie result of a 
 false iuemoiry Jr '^olr In many instanced^e t)ef^Cn givipg evidence 
 in misir^rescn^ations, has the truth in hfs own posse^on, but 
 voluntarily, deliberate, and obstinately refuses to gjve it. *In 
 this ca^ the memory is not deceived, thoti^ th6 truth is not 
 presented, 'biit, the wilUs making efforts .tfe);enect the 'deception. 
 It hayip^tts alk) th^t pe^oAs under oath' before a bench of 
 MagistfrateiiWvill relate a circumstance diametrically opposite ; 
 and acii^cumstance too Which they both witressed with equal 
 advantages. "Now in eases of this kind if one is right, it can 
 only be the one, for' as they arc opposite, and truth cannot be 
 opposed to itself, thet'cfprCj both statements ciinnot be true. 
 }sow, it is among the pos^bilf ties tliafe one party may be sincere, 
 and jfclie other party ma j* be insincere. AM it is also possible 
 tha^ both pcittJes ar^ insinciire. Btit the moist charijkable view, 
 and thie one which we woujd beirfcHned to take o^the matter 
 is, that !n mAny cases Both |>artiea are' -sincere 'ind* honest at 
 the time /this at least appears to be as possible d,^ either of 
 the btli^Vs'/ Ndi^, 'in thi$se two cat^fe alltidfed to, in giving 
 e\l(1drice uiiijortiie clroumstanc«a described, the dinefence will, 
 I thiftV, be seen to bd aitogbth^i' in the motive. For in the 
 fl^ilt (Sawj the eviddn(ie is given with a cotiscious Icnowiedge of 
 the.^ith, and at tJie same time kn unwillingness to' |^ve in the 
 <>tffjli as art^ evidence; dso d deliberate and^firm '^iete'rmination 
 to present fl»ls(B features pi the ca^, and by so doii^ to deceive 
 others, >nd prevent the ends of justice. But ih the second 
 cfi&e, though the truth is misrepresented to an equal extent, 
 and with as much apparent firmness and deliberation, yet this 
 
<v 
 
 i 
 
 6h 
 
 PHIIiOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 
 I 
 
 case may agree with tjie one alluded to under italics of 
 "Memory deceitful, why?" and the tiruth may be lost to this 
 person ; and that which ia not the truth having passed for so 
 long as a suh^itute&r the tenth, by this time claims to be the 
 truth. Yet it should be remembered that both parties are 
 guilty, though not equally guilty, at the present moment. The 
 one labouring at the present time to misreprc^ht the truth, and 
 tliereby doing violence to his intellectual and moral nature ; 
 the other having. 4one the same heretofore is guilty for the 
 pa.st, and is now sufierlog the penalty in the delusion entailed 
 on hii^.^ jjn<^ ii^,,^w, cl^aracte^^^^^ andperj^j^.jjn his circumstances. 
 
 Sec. IX: JIo\o such, cases involve moral resjpoiisibility. 
 And it should not )];e forj^tten thai the moral features of the 
 case are analogous tp t|i^ intellectual above alluded to. For if 
 an individual comniit a erime^ PI* a course of crimes, in early 
 life which began and ended in a day, or the elif(pcts ofwhich do 
 not extend beypnd his yputhful da;^s, when he,', through re- 
 pentance towards God and faith m the Lord «tesus Christ 
 obtains a pardon, he bccomcs^ustiified, that is to say, he is no 
 longer guilty in the sigjjt of Godjj ior tjiat ox those trans- 
 gressions; and his buiiin^ nQy> is ip cease a repetition of the 
 same conduct to pi;event x^ recurrence of inoral guilt from the 
 same. c;iuse. But tb>Q);e^^t:e otlier oases of moral practice 
 which, according^o purji9iJ99ptipn of them, Q^mnpt be disposed 
 of exactly on tfc s^jj^e priftctp|e;'pec^UHe, the effects of them 
 arc cr' ^ifd^d, by ^ Uwp^'our nature, jthrough a peirson-s whole 
 lifetime. If for example, a person in early Hie cpntfaots the 
 habit of dripping strong prills, smoking and chewing tob^ccOj 
 taking snuff, or any othe^ hv^rtful practice, to a great cxjqess ; 
 they being of siio^ «l nature as tp operate poiferfuliy ,ujx>n the 
 nervous system, tiieir poisonous substapceii cnterii^ the plpod, 
 find their way to th^ hesirt^ inteptines, liver, digestive ofgans, 
 and oven to the lungs, and finally to every pprt of toe huiuan 
 body. ThjBse, jyri»etices if continued fj^r a tefm of ye^i^s Jay the 
 foundation pf various and malignant disea^ I manVofw)luoh 
 affect tbe mtfililept, the moral sense, and pervert the wilJ^ I^QW, 
 thoug^i in aftqr life the perspn maybe led to see the evil of such 
 practices, reform from their use, ancl repent before God of the 
 sinfulness of such a course, and obtain pardon ; but does the 
 pardon of sin in such, or any similar case, restore to the man 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 60 
 
 pure blopd, healthy digestive organs, and sound lungs ? We 
 answer, no. The Reason is, because tte kir of God, as record- 
 ed in Revelation, |d^not'c6tflict with, nor contravene in any 
 way the regularity 'at)d;liiMrmdtiY of tho«e laws which the same 
 Great Auihdr has iuiplarttea In dttr physical ahd mental 
 natures. But, the inoKfftwtuipe iti this case may perhaps be 
 more forcibly seen iti the base of a "deceitful miemory" than 
 eveii irt the. one here . alFude^ to:' Fbif ah individual who in 
 early life should commence to Ji^actice deijeption upon his memo* 
 iy or hi^ jtidgiQient, or upon his ireasoning powers, and continue 
 that course till mature life ; may then be led . to see the evil of 
 such a.course and repent before God and obtain the pardon of 
 sin. By the spnae ot pai:don, Divinely bestowed, the guilt of 
 such conduct is tii^eh away. !put the memory having been 
 deceived oft iri^ny points trhich involve Intioral Character, brings 
 down with it a yanety of fJilse forms^, trhieh through habit it 
 now assumes for truth, and the person may tell tliem ft>r truth, 
 with the present motives^ induce others to do the ?ime, is the 
 more rekdilv beJieveA'becattsc of his present reli^ouf iofes^ions, 
 still it is all false! Now, the qnestion is, must nature have 
 its course in the future, as it has had in the pa-st; or will the 
 sense of pardon which is bestowed, count€'"'"^t its workings, 
 impede its progress, he\!itraKze its laws of cause and ef!i?ct, amt 
 thus restore lost time, injured fadulties, and mutilated truths, 
 or does it leave the effect as it is produced by its natural cause ? 
 We answer, the truth, the great eternal tniih holds good, and 
 welJhink it is no perversion of the sacred text to apply it here, 
 that '^Vhatebevcr a man sow6th that shall he also reap," A 
 glance at the world with the mirror of truth iv. our hand, mil 
 what; shdll w^' see ? Temperance, with its train of healthful 
 enjoyments ; Prudence, w'if n its proviiion laid up for the winter ; 
 Diligence, making rich ; Honesty, th« best policy ; and Truth, 
 nothing afraid ; Sefif-dMiial, with if^ superstructure of noble 
 achievements ; Benevolence, with itp returning tide of blessings ; 
 and Piety, seriene in the temp^t, and beaming with hope. On 
 the other hand, Insobriety, datkened with gloom and bloated 
 with disease ; Sloth, eaten to the bone ; Dishonesty, In fetteni, 
 and Falsehood hiding its fkce ; Imprudence, fallen by a false 
 step ; Self-indulgence, with its downward course ; Selfishness", 
 with its cheerless solitude ; and Impiety, striving, in old age, 
 to deny the faith, swearing on a death-bed, anticipating judg- 
 
70 
 
 PftlLOSOPkt OE* THE MEMOBY. 
 
 luent, and n^uttering Gfursesfrom an in ward ^11. Here then 
 we vA&y plainly s^e the )aw of oau^ and ei&ct, both in the 
 phjsioal, an^ntal, i^nd ]paprsA, W(^d. Fjro,m these and a thoui^aijid 
 othc^ oonsideratiqiis may, bef eeepi fhj^ ioiportui^ce of correct 
 habita-in^arlylife. ' Tber^fbr^ i^ i^impoasibkto pay too much 
 attention to the cultivation of tlie youthini n^ind. No expeneo, 
 nor paifis shonld be spared to dife^'t those young intellects to the 
 proper Qhannel, and keep tbeui uiere^ till their habitif are formed 
 for truth, sobnigty and yirtu,e, ; when J iypi a %W years it will 
 become an easy practice, ^ " ^{-^ ..„)3n, tri;' ,. , . 
 
 Sec 12 : An honest Jarge^l memory. In TYh«'*t we 
 haye said, above, iti will be Qb8erve4 that,-we have not spoken 
 of an honest forgetifuliress. Thene, is a wjde .difference between 
 th^ and a, deceitful B^emory that we have ali'^dy ei^deavoured 
 to describe. !l^or though in thp case of a '' diepeitful memory" 
 we have shown that those ]»articlef^ pf truth pf which the mind has 
 lost si^t, are really forgotten y yet npt ^1 m^|M)irtiQns of truth in 
 that subject, for in almost every case, of this kind some truth 
 will be retained and by so doing the misfepre^ntatio;i will 
 undoubtedly look tJie morc^aus^ble* 4*^4 ^his being the case, 
 it wiU.be i«een tiiat there mus^ haye l;>e^n a voluntary efeHion 
 of the mind put forth i^n order; to^m^ke the selection between 
 truth and faftehood. For those particles of truth wjbich were 
 severed from the subject,, and ty which tj^e chain was broken 
 in the first place, musthaYe b^en done by a, .conscicois exertion, 
 and the supplying of tlios^ vai^cies ^ithfqrekp m/itter^ to 
 make up the bpeaah occas^Qed py t!^ b^tructipn of tr^th, 
 required also tlie sam,e kind of Aptjr^. HenC|e in cases of 
 deception of the memory, and in.^iWost eyervj degree of that 
 deceptiou, tliea;^ wJ^' be sonie particles of truth t^t aro preserved 
 from the original circumstance, though tliey are rendered 
 powerless by . the amount of error thai is .u^ixed with them. 
 And thl' view of the subject, which we think will apjjcar, from 
 a close «crutiny into h-aman conduci^ to be correct, tlurows the 
 blame wis*are it ougirt ut be (via.) on the person himself. And 
 for thi<^ vioiatiori ioue to his mental nature he is held aopount- 
 able to that Aluil^hty Being, wh^> will judge him, and all man- 
 kin d in the last cUiy. But in reierence to an honest forgetful- 
 noM a perata may l/e an eye-witness to a circumstance, and ono 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 71 
 
 will 
 
 of conniderable importance too, though not so much to himself, 
 but to others ; yet, if called upon to relate it twelve months 
 afterwards, he could not state enough of it by which even its 
 prominent features could be ascertained, or its general outlines 
 understood ; but this 's because he has honestly forgotten it. 
 He may remember a few incidents, those he honestly gives, one 
 here, and another there, but they have no connection 3ufl&cient 
 to form a chain of events, he makes no effort to supply those 
 vacancies with trror^ merely because he cannot remember the 
 truth ! Now, this will be seen to be a very different case from 
 a "deceitful memory," that is to say, one that has acquired the 
 habit of misrepresenting, and mixing real things with imaginary 
 ones, till the truth becomes ' sq obscured that when, in after 
 life, It is honestly sought for, it cannot be found. The differ- 
 ence in the two cases is this* tl^ one tried to prevent the 
 trilth from .beiiig^k|^own, the Other merely neglected ito remem- 
 ber it. ' *• ' ' " '"""'; *"■ '".'■' "■■ 
 
 .-^f 
 
 J^ 
 
 mti^ 
 
72 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 h ^ '■'•'■ 
 
 r OHAPTEU V. 
 
 I 't i t' 
 
 y,u1 ■ 
 
 :' M 7 
 
 OJf A WBAK MEMORV AKD ITS BEMESIES. 
 
 j.'.u; 
 
 / ir 
 
 5cc. 1 ; WJuitisthefiameo/dweakorjioormenior^f We 
 shall now ]w*oceed to devote a snort ?pace to the consideration of 
 that mental state so generi^ly complpned of by mankind, which 
 we call a "weak 'memory." This state of mind, most of men 
 know by experience, is exceedingly tfoubl*^(»ne and pften 
 militates against our influence, our circumstances, and personal 
 happiness. And seeing this is the case, *a remedy for such a 
 disease mus't be very desirable. Now, that there is a diflFerence 
 in t'le natural strength of the human mind, we unhesitatingly 
 admit, that is to say ; there is a manifest difference between 
 one set of intellectual faculties whic -a the <.ireat Author of nature 
 has, by the institution and continuance of cert»' n laws, com- 
 bined to make up one human mind, and another set of intellects 
 \\t\ faculties which make up another human mind. But 
 though there is this natural difference in the intellectual capacity 
 of mankind, and though there is such eiieasive hereditary 
 weakness, and physical and mental deformity, arising from 
 causes too numerous to mention here, yet these causes, we 
 humbly conceive, are not primary causes instituted by our 
 Benevolent Creator, but are secondary, and are the result of 
 man's insubordination to the Divine commandments. And 
 therefi)re it is not impossible that these causes may, in a great 
 measure, if not altogether, eventually, be removed. And should 
 we judge from the improvement that has been made in the 
 course of the last half eentury, in scientific discoveries for 
 mental improvement, and intellectual development among our 
 race ; we Hiight reasonably hope that at the same rate of im- 
 provement, many of these abuses that now obtain, will be cor- 
 rected. Whether this state of things will ever be experienced 
 by mankind or not in his present state, when all those, evils 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 73 
 
 will bo corrected, one thing is certain, that we cannot but 
 desire to see those causes removed that now contribute to make 
 that intellectual and moral diflFercncc among nations, and por- 
 tions of nations, and individuals of diiferent localities, so offen- 
 sive to the ear, so painful to the eye, and so afflicting to the 
 heart. So that mind can come forth in its true native forniy 
 free from the trammels of blind superstition, and the cruel bond- 
 age of despotic laws. When leorning shall no longer in any 
 part of our wide world be monopolized by the rich and the 
 great — when all shall have equal access to the great principles of 
 a wholesome literature, and a pure system of moral teaching — 
 then, we say ; that difference which now appears, to our disgrace 
 and shame, in the world of mind will to a great extent bo 
 banished. But wo must take things as we find them, and 
 though we can scarcely hope to correct all the abuses to which 
 mankind are heirs ; yet, we can do much towards the accom- 
 plishment of so desirable an object, and especially if every one 
 would do what he can. 
 
 But bad as our case may be fronr prevailing secondary causes, 
 and numerous hereditary defects, and a want of access to the 
 best means and facilities for literary attainments, and intellec- 
 tual development ; yet, the weakness of the memory, of which 
 we so often, and so bitterly complain is, to a great extent, tho 
 result of our own indolence; so much so, flt all events, that we 
 forget many things merely because we do not try to remember 
 them. We have said before, and repeat it here, that memory 
 becomes improved just in proportion to the action, that is ; 
 the intellectual effort directed to any one circumstance. And 
 this action of the • memory on these circumstances is, just in. 
 proportion to the interest which the soul feels therein^ 
 
 Sec. 2: A want of interest one cause of a weak memory^ 
 We say then, that one cause of a weak memory is a want of 
 interest in the subject or thing, whatever that may be, which; 
 comes under our observation ; and this is easily demonstrated 
 by a reference to the general conduct of mankinds For exam- 
 pie, pers( Vib who h'»"c b'u little regard for religious things, 
 thougli tfey ?«"e «^i'ie)a pre.-iit, for many causes, the most of 
 wbiel) aie DJii^^owri k> nny but themse^yes, in religious assem-s 
 blies; ♦jiptdolly at the public preaching of the Gospel, aijd. haye. 
 a 
 
74 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THK MEMORY, 
 
 aocess to religious books of every description, and hear religious 
 conversations every day : yet, how little do the majority of 
 those persons know about bible truth, the Providence of God, 
 or his moral government of the world. How strangely, and 
 how profoundly ignorant are they, of the nature of that duty 
 which they owe to themselves, both to the body^ the intellect, 
 and moral nature, to their fellow beings, to civil rulers, to 
 religious ministers, the church of Christ, and suffering 
 humanity, to their Creator, by way of repentance, of reverence 
 for his namo, his law and person, of faith, of prayer, and of 
 praise. And what is the reason for all this? It is not 
 because they have had no privileges, not because they have not 
 heard, not because they have not had line upon line and 
 precept upon precept, and not because these truths are more diffi- 
 cult to remember, but because they had. comparatively, no inter- 
 est in the " things which they heard." The mind not being 
 especially directed towards them when they occurred, any 
 more than to give a passing observation, subsequent events 
 would take the attention of the perceptive^ and events, too, of 
 fiir less consequence, came to occupy the mind's attention, 
 while things of paramount importance were lost. Now, the 
 whole of this is the result of carelessness, for in not giving 
 " heed to the things which we have heard, we have let them 
 
 This fact can be illustrated by referring to our daily occnpar 
 tions. FcHT example, why does a man while wm'jcing in his 
 accustomed employment lay down his axe in one place and his 
 hammer in another place, and f(«rget, perhaps twenty tuu^es in 
 a day, where he laid his tools ? Suppose he has a note of hand 
 or a bank bill, and of no more value than tibe axe and the 
 hammer, but has occasion to lay it down as he does his tools ; 
 would he foi^t as resdily, or would he be apt to forget at all 
 the place whore h« laid the note or bill ? We answer, he would 
 not. The reason of this is obvious. The mind, by having 
 the tools so frequently under its notice, and having known 
 them to be laid aside from time to time, and lost occasionally, 
 but always found with but little trouble, contracts a degree of 
 indifferenoe in regard to their locality, and borrows from tho^ 
 past a confidence that tjiey are safe, though not s^en. Whereas 
 money not being in the same position, nor handled in the same 
 
 s 
 
 f 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 76 
 
 to 
 
 manner, nor estimated on the name principle, and not so easily . 
 found when lost, nor identified "when found, is considered of 
 more value, excites more interest, gets more attention, and 
 occupies more of the mind's time, and conscfiucntly is better 
 and more distinctly remembered. We merely introduce t^is, 
 being fully sensible that ii will not apply in every case as we 
 have applied it in this, because, there might be oases found of 
 persons not acoustorced to use such tools as wo have alluded to, 
 but are in the habit of handliiif^ a great amount of money daily, 
 would plaoe more value upon tlic tools than upon the amount 
 of money that would purchase them ; and in this case tJioy 
 would remember the tools better i): an th«y would the money. 
 Nevertheless the principle is the samo and they remember that 
 in which they are the most interested, nnd on which they place 
 the most yalui). 
 
 - Again, it will be seen that though aome people are great 
 readers, and good readers too, that is, correct readers, and yet 
 with all their reading they seem to know but very little. Wc 
 do not refer hero to persons of deranged or defective intellcots, 
 but to those who are capable of understanding and remember- 
 ing what they read, and the reason why they know so little 
 with all their reading is, they do not read for information, but 
 merely for pastime and amusement; and thercfbi-o those book« 
 that will gratify and ploase the sense, get the greatest share of 
 attention. And it is for this very reason that men, and 
 millions of them too, can remember tales otncweUi/ and romanocj 
 of fun and merriment, of vanity and foolishness, of licentioua- 
 hess and profligacy, so much better than they can saored truth; 
 But the great difficulty is, they have no interest in sacred 
 things, therefore they cannot remember them. And inasmuch 
 as a weak memory is owing, in part, to a want of interest in 
 the things whidhi we perceive, in order to improve the memory 
 one important consideration is, to cultivate »n interest in those 
 principles and practises that are recommended in the Christian 
 Scriptures, as ^jest adapted for the purposes of life. 
 
 Sec. 3 .- Cannot expect to remember everuthwg. Now, 
 inasmuch as we can scarcely hope, even with thrj best possible 
 mental discipline, and with every facility which this age of im- 
 provement can furniShj to remember everything, wc shall sec thc^ 
 
76 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 propriety of exercising ^reat caro and solioitudc in making 
 selections of those subjects that arc likely to prove of the greatest 
 practical benefit to us. These 
 
 arc 
 
 Sec. 4; (1) Things relatinp; to practical morality, and 
 theoretical, emotional, experimental, and practical piety towards 
 God and man. This is according to the Revelation given to us 
 from heaven, because, it says : "seek first the kingdom of God and 
 hia righteousness." And to seek that kingdom is to seek the 
 wil! of God, and to obtain that kingdom ia to do his will. And 
 we cannot do his will unless we perceive it, and we cannot prac- 
 tice those perceptions unless v. i.' remember them. Yet the whole 
 of this may be aumTr^-^d up m a few words, and condensed within 
 a small ooTipass, such ay, ' ao Justly, love mercy, and humbly 
 walk with God." Or, the w. hole may be embraced in the follow- 
 ing : "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter, fear God 
 nnd keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man." 
 
 tSec 5 ; (2) The second class which ought to claim our 
 ./tent n is composed of iatellectual studies of every kind that 
 are cj..3ulated to develop, strengthen, and invigorate those 
 faculties which the Divine Being has gi\en us for wise and 
 gracious purposes. Here we are thrown again upon our own 
 discretionary powers, for those topics are so numerous, and con- 
 stantly increasing and extending their branches further, and 
 still further, into the various departments of science and 
 literature, that no previous arrangement could give an exact 
 detail. But this we know, not only that the practice is good 
 for our. intellectual and moral benefit, but also that the sacred 
 writings encourage the improvement of the mind by study, 
 both by express coumiands and incentives interspersed through 
 the old and new testaments. Time would fail to notice all the 
 instances in the Bible where encouragement is given to man 
 to study into the laws of God which govern ''^q material 
 universe and the world of mind. But we mi^ ice t?iat 
 
 given by the Royal Psalmist, "When I conside eavens, 
 
 the work of thy fingers, the moon and the sta loh thou 
 
 hast ordained, what is man ?" And the blessed {Saviour when 
 on earth and preaching to the Jews, said : " Behold the lilly 
 of the field, it toils not, neither does it spin, and yet I say unto 
 ^you that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of 
 
 ' 
 
PHTLOSOPHY OF THR MEMORY. 
 
 »» 
 
 these." Here are encouragenients for up tudy natural 
 
 philosophy, and therefore it should be Hclcott tlmt purpose. 
 
 And in regard to the study into the natun and how 
 
 to improve it, we may gather encouragen " the great 
 
 Apostle of the Gentiles, in his letter to Timothy: Study to 
 be approved a workman who needeth not to be ashamed, 
 rightly dividing the word of truth." Hence, in making selec- 
 tion for the study of this important department of science, we 
 conceive, that, elementary works would be preferable to any 
 other kind. Because they direct the mind at once to the 
 elementary properties of nature, from which all compound 
 bodies are made. But to study into the nature of things 
 means a great deal, an 1 seeing we cannot reasonably hope to 
 master them all, either in time, or in eternity, in its fullest 
 extent of meaning ; wc must therefore* be content to do what 
 we can. And we must be careful to exercise our better 
 judgment in selecting those portions of natural philosophy 
 which will familiarize us with the leading principles of human 
 nature ; seeing we havt much to do with man, and also with 
 those laws by which the health of our bodies and minds is 
 preserved. 
 
 Sec, 6 .• (3) The third class which is entitled to duo 
 consideration from every rational mind, consists of those 
 various departments of industry and occupations in life, that 
 are best calculated to procure an honest and comfortable liveli- 
 hood, both for ourselves and those committed to our care. 
 And here again we shall find a plenty of exercise for all our 
 mental powers, of discriminati(m, judgment, memory, will, and 
 discussion. And after the selection is made, and a oourge 
 determined on, and no man will ever accomplish anything in 
 the world till that is done, there will still be work enough for 
 the mind to collect information by reading, conversation, and 
 in the use of experiments, that he may prove successful in tlra 
 business of his choice. A timely selection will appear tlie 
 more important when it is considered that, in the nature of, 
 things, it is impossible to remember all that comes under our 
 observation ; for each circumstance requires a certain portion 
 of time for practising the perceptive faculty, to get it accus- 
 tomed to the intellectual channel which leads to such eircuni* 
 stance. We merely mean by this, that we require time to 
 
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(8 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 prepare the mind to remember it. And may we noit say that, 
 as a general thing, more than ten times the length of time is 
 required to remember a circumstance; than what is required 
 for a circumstance to transpire. And as time is just as full 
 of events as it is full of moments, and if it takes as much 
 longer to remember an event as it does for the event to tran- 
 syke, as we have supposed it does, it is not posisible that we 
 could remember half the occurrences of life. Therefore as so 
 much time has to be occupied in remembering, the caution, 
 prudence, and deliberation, that should be exercised in the 
 sdection of the subjects and current events to be remembered, 
 is cxf the greatest importuioe to 'every accountable beings and 
 it is an aoknowle<^ed truth, and the more so because it enters 
 into €i& experience of all who have trimmed their minds to the 
 fltiidy of the memory^ that for the amount of effort Upended, 
 however great: the e£foi!t may be, upon the ex^cise . of tibie 
 j»dgraent in th6 selection, oef appropriate subjects to be remem- 
 bered, tho idoul in after life gets'tcmpfy repaid: in the amoulnt 
 dfiintellectuai streng^ih^ pecuniary income^ domestic happness, 
 mtxitik purity, and iteligioui enjoyment^ « ah the result of^u(^ a 
 wise and timely selection. It is a lamentable fact^ however, 
 that men will generally remember things rdating to their 
 teihporali inteirest moreivesdiiyrthaii ithey #111 those rdatitig to 
 their spiritual weifato;>;)Folr ' some things oanibe rem«nlibered 
 80 remarkably easy tha/t wearescatx^ely Sensible of th^hsving 
 oost tha Sodi an < effort ' The reason i9 ? H^he interest wMeh the 
 soul^taiEos in tke^i (things to he rfemembersd is sd^intei^e'that 
 everjii .otiitr ooDrnderation is lost . in thiutu If then t^e^ souI^b 
 interest" comesi to be fizbd on any one {subject m<^e than 
 anotiberj ^rm^hory becomes prqportionitbly strength^s^ 09i 
 
 ■,. ; i'tjWf '■' 
 
 ilhff -^i' 
 
 a ^t 
 
 ( '^ec 7 ;v i i SPimdy and vigorouweffcmt important to strengthen 
 Shi memorf. * But w& prooeed' to remark that anotiier cause j^ 
 weak memoiy^is a want of proper, timely^ and vigorous efibrt. 
 For it should be obi^drvsil th»t it is nbtvafficient for t&evsoul 
 to ,possa»3 an interest that will merely giv^i the preiSsrenee and 
 make the selection, but that interest should be felt in a high 
 degree, so as to stimidatc the soul to ii vigorous, decided^ aM 
 immediate action, because preference to a certain proposition 
 or ciroamstan(^ may be givoii, and some degree (^ititerest fdit 
 
 
 . 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 n 
 
 in it, yet it may not be sufficient to excite the will to influence 
 the memory to become i'timiliar with such circumstance. It 
 happens frequently to be the case that men feel conscious and 
 acknowledge, that if they would take a certain prescribed 
 course, iind pursue that regularly, and persevere therein, it 
 would greatly accrue to their advantage ; and yet they neglect 
 to adopt and^arry out that policy which they conceive to be 
 both honorable, feasible, and profitable. This neglect is some- 
 times the result of a kind of wilful obstinacy, -urAic^ often leads 
 men wrong ; at other times it is the result of physioal indolence 
 or intellectual laziness, which in too many instances besets the 
 sonl. And this is one reason, if not the principal one, why 
 mien have so often to complain of having ^' such a p6or memory." 
 
 jtiuSec. 8 .• . Interest fdt and effort put forthi Interest in 
 things exists in the soul in a great variety of d^ees^ flrom that 
 ofiwhicii the soul is scarcely conscious, up to that which ittoves 
 the >mind to act with such vehemecce, and inspiries the soul 
 wiiii Buoh an instantaueons stimulant that it is scarcely possible 
 td diseoveir any difference between the intereiat felt aaid tiie sSort 
 putt fbHh to reiinember the circumstance. But tl»)ngh the mind 
 in times of such excitement can Bcareely discern the difference 
 between the interest whi<ih it feals in the subject and the effort 
 which it puts fort^ to remember it ; yet, they a^ positiviely two 
 distinct and separate intelkctual states;, so that great as tlie 
 interest msiy be which the soul feels in any subject j it still 
 required the authority of the will, and repeated actions of the 
 pereeptive faculty and conseiousnessi^ order i to retaiemberit. 
 
 M IS!0b; 0':' InerwMingikkdriepiMied^t^ortiBsseiiHalt^si^ 
 en the memory. Another important consideration is to perse- 
 vere \ik>^ and repeat the- effort to remember until we succeed ; 
 %x[ if the thing to be i«membereel > te mB'ely a dimple circum- 
 stance, and not subject to any^ diviston of parts by analyzation ; 
 yet, we cannot expect to make ourselves masters of thai *» ^d 
 tiiotfoughly remember it by rmei'iHy entertaining % desiire, a^' Ii 
 tdt dof so, or by an ex|nreBsion such as, '' I miust' try to remem- 
 ber thai," or throwing all thii eiiergies of the; soul into a single 
 effort or two, to da so. Experiencie tea<^et» us tiiat in order to 
 mlako the m^ind familiar with merely one simple circumstance, 
 many effoHs have to be put forth; and each of these often 
 
80 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 requires the whole strength of the soul. If then this is the 
 case with one simple circumstance, what must be the effort 
 required to be put fbrth before the mind is sufficiently acquaint- 
 ed with a circumstance that is made up of several Hmjtle ones ? 
 It will be easily enough seen from this, that with the exception 
 of a few extraordinary oases, if a man will have what we call 
 a "good retentive memory" he must work/or it 
 
 Sec. 10 : Every eocertion to rememher gives additional 
 strength. But though each simple circumstance requires many 
 efforts of the mil, of the perceptivty and of consciousness to 
 familiarize the. soul with the subjeet ; yet, it must be encourag- 
 ing to all to know, and this all can know from experience, that 
 every effort put forth has two important and profitable effects 
 upon the mind; that is to say, the diminution of the effort, 
 required to renember any thing, is in proportion to the number 
 of ejfbfii that may be put forth in any given case ; so that the 
 more exertions ihat are made, the less vigour is required in each 
 successive exertion that is made. And every exertion that is 
 made, gives additional strength, vitality and action to the 
 memory, in the subject, or fhi'"'* to be remembered. Henoe, 
 in remembering, or rather, ir. j ^ring the mind to remember, 
 VFe have, as a general thing, Wput foifth our strongest efforts 
 first; but by persevering we soon find the soul to incline in that 
 direction, when a peioei?a.ble effort will scaroeiy be required. 
 And thus every sub^^et, whether great or small, simple or 
 ^'iooinpIeK," and whatever may be its nature^ whether Politiei^ 
 Literature, Morality, <or ib^^ious, if remembered l^ suoceflsive 
 voluntary exertion adds an additional amount of strength to the 
 niemmry, beoause, the perceive facidty beeomes habituated to 
 the difeotion, and dmtanoe, and time and plaoe, where these 
 cireumstances transpired, and where they are to tse found. And 
 every person knows that habit is one oi the most operative, and 
 powerful laws in the human! mind. 
 
 See. .11 : JEceplanatum. The interest of which we have 
 spoken, and which moves the soul to action, and remembraneO; 
 is not always of that nature which invites a preference for the 
 thing perceived, and so excites an notion to remember it ; for 
 the very things, in many instances, which we remember the 
 most ^sttnctly, are things which appear to us to be destituted 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 m 
 
 , 
 
 every feature of loveliness and beauty. But these are exoeptions 
 to the general rule, both in r^^rd to the original perception, 
 which was involuntary and the remembrpnbe of the same ; for 
 we were forced to see it, and forced to see it as it wa^-^-and 
 we were forced to see it when we did, and whete we did^--4nd 
 we were forced to feel the effects of that on our nervous system. 
 And these effects whenever felt, remindus of the circumstance, 
 so that when we fed the effeUSf we perceive the cause that pro> 
 duced them; and so there is an involuntary rememberance, as 
 well aa an involuntary original perception. 
 
 ^. 12 ; According to theprindpk <iiot;e, memory never 
 eomea to hefidh Now, as it is a fact universally acknow- 
 ledged that the mind gains strength by every effort to remem- 
 ber; the increasing strength and activity, «o ^attieef, come to 
 be fully equal to any increasing demand that can be made upon 
 the memory, arising from the influx of ideasy or increase of 
 circumstances. But if the memory had been so oonstructed ais 
 to hold just so many circumstances, and no m(Nre ; which it 
 must be if it is a place where our " thoughts are deposited," 
 from the pressure x^curlrent events, in the nature of things, 
 the period must eventnilly come to every man when he could 
 remember no more. But thift period does not come to any, 
 either in this life, or that which is to be hereafter^ We speak 
 of the human mind in; its rational state. And therefore the 
 memory can only be full oompiralivehr, not positively ; and Only 
 in this sense, vib : when <ihe soul reraises to put forth an effort 
 to remember any mora. And when will that time arrive ? 
 Not while any thii^ of inter^t is perceived through the senses. 
 And it is impossible to live, for any considerable length of time 
 without percaving something, eithor in others, or ourselves; 
 tiiat the soul judges to be worthy its attention. And as things 
 of more or less interest are daily coming under the observation 
 of every man, and as there is implanted in the breast of every 
 human being an undying. thirst for knowledge; and as the 
 passing events of every day afford a variety of tQf>ios, many of 
 whi<)h cannot fail* to ^ease and .profit ; and as this will alwaya 
 be the case, m<Mre or less, while our present state of being lasts^ 
 there : will always bo employment for the memory. 
 
82 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 But when this present state of being ends, thesoul, which is im- 
 mortal, win enter upon ai^other state of existence; and this 
 present stale (mly develops to a limited extent our intelleotu»l 
 raoulties ; hut the o^or state of being will more effectually do 
 that, bytfurnishiiigpierpetual and eternal employments for every 
 one. And as the improvement of the memory depends, in a 
 great measure mpooi' the voluntary exertion of the soul ; and 
 the efforts put forth, will be in. > proportion to the amount of 
 interest felt in ounrent circumstanoes ; and as eternity ihpougli 
 all its countless ages, wfll be unfislding a constant suooecisiob of 
 new events to the redeemed of the Lord ; where there will be om- 
 I^oyment for the <miBiu(»ry whilip endless t^es roll thdr rounds, 
 in which empbyment according to our liiiew of the nature of 
 memory, it will ba'viways learning, aliways growing, abd never 
 lose its action, its vitality, nor its strength. ' 
 
 Sec^ 18'; O/resoi^ng to writing as'alu^ to tie memory. 
 Fr6m the pressure of business ' and crowd of circumstances 
 whiohi daily come under our observation, in many of tl^e occiipai- 
 tions of ; life, men have reoourse to writing as la help t6^ the 
 memdry. Nimr, «8 th^e are many of these from the eomi^Koated 
 state c£o\a> Ibusiness tvausaotioiuB^ vad the ext^t <of our social 
 intercourse need to be relen^dito again ; it looks reasionable, 
 and indeed appears to bd neofsskry that Some m^hanical record 
 should be made. ^But diough wrIUng appeum to be neeessary in 
 BtM^ leases ; yet, it oi^ght not ^ bci used as a substitute f»r the 
 memory, whenever the otnmmstance is of tliat nature as to afford 
 timei to remember it. For writiiig does not appear, so hr as we 
 have been alAe to dkdoverf to jioll^^ memory in iha long rwi; it 
 only affords to the person a temporfiry rdief. But stiUj the advaii- 
 ia^ of mechanical records ure obvious^ and are no<i, by any 
 means, to be depreciated ; the use and benefit thereof may m seeb 
 from the following eonsiderations^ (1) In recording events By 
 writing a vast amount issaveid; for were it not for thisprctc- 
 ticBy veiy manyjdftheBeeventstihatix>me under our observation 
 from dttjr to day^ and which ought to be preserved would be 
 Jost/entirely. (2) As thme things cannot all be remembered 
 prineipsQy fdr want Of time to make the mind familiar with theni 
 and as only a partial knowkdge of certain things prbves^ at 
 times, to be worse than no knowledge at all ; and as they may 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 88 
 
 be, in the future, of great benefit to others as well as ourselves, 
 it comes to be a general benefit to record them. 
 
 Sec. 14 ; Men will go to extremes. But though there are 
 some advantages which might be mentioned in addition to those 
 above, yet men are apt to go to extremes in this practice, as 
 they do in many other things to their own hurt. Hence, 
 because to write some things appears to be necessary, some 
 people seem to conceive it to be to tiieir, advantage to write 
 down every thing of importance; in which they suppose the 
 public interest is concerned^ And in this consists the extreme ; 
 because it is an imposition practised upon the memory. In 
 writihg down events, which we desire to remember for ourpwn 
 intellectual and moral benefit, we do not mean for the purpose 
 of litigation, or book-keepings we should be careful not to 
 rob the memory of what it might have had, by preventing it at 
 the time from doing what it was abundantly able .'to do. For 
 in committing to writing we invariably take a great patt of the 
 subject, so committed,: from the memory^ and in many 
 instances the whole. And this is one reason why those petsbna 
 who are in tiie habit of writipg all important occurrences have^ 
 as they invariably do have, such very ''poor memQries." And 
 it is especially, a great injury tb pubHo speakers to ^ them-* 
 selves, in the habit of writing down their sermon^, or lectures, 
 or the heads of them, in what we call making notes, &c., whick 
 very many of iJiem d6. And though we soarccQy expect to, 
 dissuade^ by anything that we oould say here, or anywbere 
 else, persons who have been long in thisi practice, from the tiso 
 of it ; nevertheless there are young pebple gr9^intg:up toi 
 usefulness and fame, and will have to act their part, and ;takQ 
 our plaoe^ wben iwe are dead and gone. Ai^d it is very desk- 
 able that they should learn,- not onlv from our wisdom, caution,^ 
 prudence, and piety ; but should also make intellectual capital 
 out of some of our mistakes and metaphysical errors. Bat in, 
 order to do this their attention must be called to theni initune,i 
 that is, before they contract the same habit, or else there will be . 
 but little more hope of them than there is of us. W,e do not 
 speak against the studying of a sutiject, nor against the use of 
 writing, or any other method for the purpose of helping us to 
 remember; but against the practice of writing and laying 
 aside, and afterwards trusting to tbe writing, and so making 
 
84 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 paper and ink hold what the memory might hav^e known. The 
 practice is justified only on the ground that the subjects were 
 put in writing merely because of their multiplicity and complica- 
 tion, and the want of time and opportunity to muke ourselves 
 masters of them at the present. But then even this should be 
 done with a view of taking them up at the very first opportunity. 
 And when they are taken up, the object of so doing should bo 
 more for the purpose of investigating thoroughly into the mean- 
 ing, the object, and general tendencies of such manuscript, of 
 its contents, and what its effects will be upon ourselves and 
 others ; more than for the purpose of being able to perceive its 
 eloquence, its emphasis, its phraseology, its selection of words, 
 and recite them^ Because if the prineiple thing perceived and 
 remj^nbered happens to be the words in the subject we hear, or 
 in the manuscript we read, we would be deserving all the credit 
 and praise that are due to an intellectual and moral being, who 
 has managed to place himself in this department of literature just 
 as far above a parrot, and no further^ than as he has learned 
 and is able to reeite more words. But what satisfaetion would 
 this be to any person who possesses the pluck, soul, vitiJity, 
 intellect, hope, desires, emotions, privil^es, and prospects of a 
 human being to know that he can reciifi a longer piece of prose 
 er poetiy than a parrot? And yet in remeqibering merely the 
 ijrordsfor the purpose (^recitation it is all the sati^action such 
 a person could have; who, appears to be perfectly willing to 
 jump over all the logic and sentiment, the nature of the propo- 
 sitloiis and reasonableness of the eonclusions, the philosophy, 
 theology, morality, and Divinity embodied in- the lesson to be 
 learned and piece to be recited ; so they can only shine for the 
 moment in orilHant colours, like the blazing comet, and obtain 
 encomiums, and expression of praises loud and long, from that 
 part of oommunity, who do not penetrate very- deeply into 
 human nature, und who are very easily excited, and frequently 
 pleased with public speakers, and but seldom profited by what 
 ^sMdv rot ■ 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 85 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN REFERENCE TO REAOINQ BEING A HELP TO THE 
 
 MEMORY. 
 
 Sec. 1 : JUmarkt on reading. Great injury is often done 
 the memory by our j^pular habits of reading. Many read 
 entirely too fast. Their only object appears to be to read just 
 so much every day. And one would really think from the 
 method that many have of galloping over huge volumes, that 
 they think true wisdom and great knowledge consist in reading 
 mmy books. But this practice p^rives itself to be a failure. 
 For if we shoiuld ask some of this kii< i of readers to give us the 
 leading features^ not to mention the detail, of some book that 
 they have read in this hurried way, in many instances we 
 should noti get enough, from ihft person, to satisfy us that he 
 hacr read the work at all had we not confidence in his integrity. 
 Now, this is not only a great waste of time, and consequeutly a 
 great evil in that respect to all accountable beings, but it is m> 
 injury dose to the whole mind, and especially to the memory. 
 And tiie evil whleh the memory is made to sustain, as a general, 
 thing, by such a method of reading is twofold. (1) In this 
 hurrying way of reading, and the variety of sul^ects and, senti- 
 ments and phrases that come under our observation, the mind, 
 becomesj to some extent, confused, and lost in the multiplicity 
 of sulijectft and disorder of things so presented. For the act of 
 reading being continued at such a rapid and vrnjustifiahle rate,^ 
 that though we might perceive, in a ^eat measure at least, the 
 meaning as we passed along; yet, the necessary time, 
 and in fact, scarcely no time at all, ]|ot being allowed for 
 meditation or investigation into its nature, the memory 
 does not get familar with the subject, and only here 
 and there an idea attracts sufficient attention to excite any of 
 the soul's interest at all ; and consequently nearly all the good; 
 
86 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 that an individual derives from eucli a method of reading is; 
 the gratification that ho has read a certain book, written at 
 such time, in such place, by the author therein named. (2) 
 The other evil is the habit which such a practice creates. For no 
 person in reading a book that is tolerably interesting expects to 
 lot it go with such a careless perusal, but intends, and forms 
 the resolution as he passes along that, in some future day, he 
 will give it a second reading^ wiien he expects to take time to 
 investigate its contents and to commit its leading truths. But 
 habit is very active, remarkabFy operative, and gains strength 
 imperceptibly, and so much so, that in the second reading 
 should it ever take place, we find ourselves hastening on to the 
 end, at the same rapid speed, and perhaps faster if possible, leav- 
 ing a gt^t many, and these perhaps pf the mos^ impotrtant 
 items, to be explained in a future day* '-^ «^'^ 
 
 •Sd'A 
 
 »■.<. 
 
 1?o do justice to the memory then in reading a book, that is 
 one that is worth reading and studying at all, and we have no 
 business to read any other, is to allow.no sentence to pass with- 
 out a proper invei^tigation, and if possible a thoc0iigh under^, 
 standing of the sobjeet. This method gets up an interest in 
 the sond. Therefore inattentiv.e reading is positively an injury, 
 to the memory; but to read attentively and no more at a timo 
 than the mind can properly manage will add strength and 
 vigour to the memory beyond all deseriptioiw ^^^ 
 
 Sf^. 2 .' BkaMng, a great source of information. Seeii^ 
 that it is from- reading we obtain so much of dtir information, 
 and that the ^amount of information which we obtain £rom this 
 souroe is governed .by the amount of reading and the manner 
 in which we read, it is ail important to obtain oo)rreot habita 
 of reading in early lif^, therefore, in addition to what has been 
 said above, I would remark, (1) That to profit by reading it 
 would not be amiss, and it cannot do any harm to any person 
 to«pend a moment or twof on taking up a book that is worthy 
 of our attention, and we have no business* with any other, to 
 enquire into our niottve of reading at that time; for it 4s 
 scarcely possible to suppose that any sensible person will take 
 a book and make a business of reading it without a motive for 
 so doing. Now, if a person should read merely for the purpose 
 of committing, or excelling others in recitations, or to be ablfa 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MKMORY. 
 
 87 
 
 to say ho has read the bible througli so many times, or to show 
 that he has road so many authors, or to bo able to display his 
 oorreot habits of reading, he will find that but a very sniull 
 amount of intoUeotual or moral benefits will accrue to him from 
 time thus spent, though he might road a thousand volumes. 
 (2) Upon examining our motive we shall need to be in 
 possession of a rule by which to decide on the profitableness or 
 unprofitableness of the motive which may at any time prompt 
 us to read. And this is important because men rend, and 
 especially young people, from various motives. But the great 
 principle uiat should govern all minds in this exercise in regard 
 to when, where, how, what, and how much we read, should be 
 that of profiti If we read in private, the motive ought not to be so 
 much to move the emotions and please the fancy as to profit 
 ourselves, that we might be able to help others ; and if we read 
 in public, our motive should bo to profit ourselves and others 
 at the same time. Now, if the object of rending is to profit 
 the mind and improve the morals, the necessity of adopting a 
 proper method to secure that object must be obvious to every 
 one. And to be a little more explicit on this topic we might 
 notice more particularly some of the bad effects of reading too 
 fast. 
 
 See, 3 ; Effects of fast reading. Fast reading is, what it 
 is not generally supposed to be, a very great waste of time, and 
 consequently a great loss sustained by the intellect, and as all 
 men i^ould read for profit, and as fast reading is here suggest- 
 ed to* be unprofitable, every sensible person who would rather 
 make! profit to his intellect than loss, would be willing to' 
 enquire into the matter to see if he is in the habU of wasting 
 his tame in this way, and improve if Occasion require. But if 
 
 ! that person has a high souse of morality, and wish to act from 
 a sense of duty, he will see that as he has no authority from 
 the holy, scriptures to consume any portion of time to no good 
 purpose, not positively to say a l^d one, to do so involves 
 the principle of moral accountability. But fast reading most 
 generally defeats ita own object ; for whereas the object of fast 
 reading, if it has any object at all, must bb to become fast 
 
 1 thinkers, or atany rate to think fast while in the act of read- 
 ings > and whereas fast readers are generally slow thinkers, 
 though they may be sometimes fast talkers, that is, Bot clear 
 
88 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 thinkers, but more or loss conf\iBcd in their ideas, and bewil- 
 dered in their minds, so that although the mind may flnttor 
 and jump from word to word, ft'om line to line, from page to 
 page, yet, reading at this kind of railroad speed will take the 
 mind a long time after all to got one well diceeted and clear 
 thought from among hundreds at which it has in its hnny 
 merely glanced. 
 
 Sec. 4 .' Reason of thi9. Now, in reading so as to profit 
 the memory, and giye it all the advantage which this combined 
 physical and mental exercise is calculated to impart, there is 
 more to be done, perhaps, than many are aware of. It is 
 important to acquire the habit as early as possible of adapting 
 the action of the eye to the work whioh the mind has to do, 
 and not allow the action of the one to confuse or paralyse the 
 action of the other, especially in the act of reading, when by 
 close watching it can be prevented. This, my young friend, 
 you will be able to comprehend fully by trying the following 
 experiment : we will refer to the face of the clock again but for 
 another puipose, that is to say, place your eye on tno dial plate 
 of a dock in motion, and direct it to the minute hand with a 
 determination to keep it there for five minutes ; this, it is very 
 possible you will be able to do, but you will fail to keep the 
 mind there on such a slow intellectual motion as to correspond 
 with the motfon of the minute hand for one-fifth port of that 
 time. For as soon as the eye strikes the minute hand, its 
 outiines are at once presented to the mind, and the soul 
 perceives that there is nothing of special interest to be investi- 
 gated, it leaves it, and is sure to go either into the future to 
 imagine scfjiething, or into the post to look over what hma been. 
 And this wandering will always be the case^ more or less, 
 whenever an attempt is made to prevent the r^ular action of 
 the mind, and which is but little better, if any, than an 
 attempt to stop the motion of the mind entirely. ¥ot though 
 there IS a mechanical motion in the minute hand, even going 
 at the rate it does, yet if the mind could be fixed on that 
 minute hand and follow it for five minutes, properly speaking 
 the mind would not move. For just as long as the mind is 
 placed upon the one object, no matter how large or small that 
 object may be, neither does it matter, as I ooncdve, whether 
 that object is in motion or at rest, philosophically speaking the 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MSMORY. 
 
 80 
 
 mind doei not move. But if the oonstnioiion of the minute 
 liand should be such as to consist of a variety of ports, and 
 each part displaying its appropriate amount of mechanical skill 
 in the combination of a variety of ingredients into its different 
 portions, and each ingredient being a compound, it might 
 excite sufficient interest so as to engage the attention of the 
 mind, for not only five minutes, but for many hours, or more. 
 But it will be perceived that in this case the mind will be in 
 action, for thoueh the attention is directed to the minute hand 
 which occupies but a small place on the dial plate, yet from 
 the great variety of its parts, as before intimated, it forms a 
 very large field of intellectual labour, and any attempt to 
 prevent its regular action by confining the mind to any one 
 thing, is doing a very great injury to the intellect, and it will 
 be found that the perceptive will always resist an attempt of 
 that kind by leaping beyond the boundary thus laid down by 
 the arbitrary authority of the will. Now, while it is a fact 
 that to prevent the regular action of . the intellect by an effort 
 of the will to confine the perceptive to a mechanical motion, 
 tends to perplex the intellect and weaken the memory ; so also 
 it is always the case when the mind is led on through the 
 pages of a book by the physical motion of the eye, without 
 proper time being allowed for the examination and proper 
 investigation of the different ideas, propositions, and conclu- 
 sions with their relations to each other. Let us consider for a 
 moment on what both have to do in the act of reading, for 
 example, the eye, it will be remembered, is merely an organ of 
 the mind, the eye perceives nothing, but is only an instrument 
 of the soul. Now, in the act of reading, tJie eye, to speak in 
 the common way, runs along the line, and alights upon the 
 different characters formed thereon, after which its work is 
 done. But the mind has something more than this to do. 
 Its business is (1) to perceive all the characters. (2)- The 
 identity and diversity of those characters. ^3) Their relation 
 to each other in syllables. (4) The idea that every word is 
 designed to repres^t. (5) The relation which one word bears 
 to another, so as to perceive the relation between one idea and 
 another which the words express. (6) The object of all these 
 relations from a single letter to a Enrllaule, from a E^Uable to a 
 sentence, from a sentence to a penod^ from a period Uy a para- 
 
90 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 graph, from a paragraph to a section, ftom a section to a chap- 
 ter, and so on to the endrof the book. Reader ! if yon do tmly 
 desire to be fully remunerated for your labour in reading the 
 Bible or any other good book, you will need to hold the eye to 
 words and sentences long enough to give the mind an opportu- 
 nity to lay out its full strength upon every idea presented, 
 because a proper understanding of one may serye as a key to 
 many contiguous ones ; and this method also, if closely adhered 
 to, will greatly strengthen the memory. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OJ^^ THK MEMOllY. 
 
 91 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HOW MANY PEOPLE Ilf JURE THE MEMORY. 
 
 8«c. 1 ; The memory capable of gaining great strength hy 
 proper action. The strength to which the memory might 
 arrive under proper discipline, regular action, and select subjects, 
 is beyond all calci^lation. And should the youth commence with 
 a determination to remember all the viduable truth that he 
 could remember, and continue firm in his purpose, fully and 
 firmly resolved never : to yield to idleness on the one hand, or 
 difficulties however great and numerous on the other, we can 
 see no reaston why alAiost, if not, all the important circumstances 
 of life that have a special reference to the real interest and 
 permanent welfare of ourselves, our children, and.the community 
 with which we are dissociated, might not be remembered, and 
 related correctly without having ito resort to the prirted or 
 written document that contains the narrative. Our sheet anchor 
 in this respect is resolution^ that is, I can remember, I have 
 time to remember, I have a mind capable of rememberipg, and 
 I will remember J so help me book, pen and ink, and paper, 
 noonday sun and midnight stars, morning light and evening 
 shade/ For I will be a man, not ft drone, I will be wise not a 
 novice, I will know for* myself, and I will not depend on the 
 knowledge of others, I am willing to be led, but I mean also to 
 be a leader. 
 
 JSec, 2 : Of laying out all the strength in one direction. 
 Great injury is done sometimes to the memory by laying out, as 
 many do, almost all the intellectual starength in One direction, 
 This is practised more, -perhaps, in the present day than many 
 of ua are aware df; arid especially with person who are solicitous 
 to exeel in any oiie point. Such for example as public speakers, 
 and often ministers of religion, who do themselves great injury in 
 
92 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 occupying so much time in committing sketches and portions 
 of sermons, and sometimes whole sermons, simply to serve the 
 present purpose and to meet their present emergencies ; which 
 though they can relate with considerable fluency, and often 
 verbatum ; yet, I will venture to say that this course of study 
 does not bring sufficient amount of intellectual benefit to 
 justify the continuance of the practice. Not that the evil of 
 which we complain is in the thing committed to memory, for this 
 may be good in itself; but it is rather in occupying so much 
 in one particular department, or class of things, whereas, 
 there are other things equally as good, and consequently deserve 
 equally as great a share of our attention, and wotdd be as much 
 to our advantage, and usefulness; but these long lessons, that 
 have to be studied verbatum, require so much time, that there i; 
 is not enough left to enable the person to be a proficient in any- 
 thing else. To become satisfied of this, let us talk to these 
 persons and, even though they are ministers of religion, we shall 
 soon find that they know but little of scripture, the book which 
 they profess to teach, and oaa. scarcely quote a teti conrectly 
 unless it is ooanected with some of those favourite selections. 
 Ask them of history^ th^ have read both ecclesiastical and 
 profane, and xemember a few prominent* particulars therein 
 recorded, with the names of the historians, lask them of theologi- 
 ans and. commentators, they have read them, and have them 
 still in their libraries, and when they are interrelated they are 
 made sensibly to feel their deficiency, and sometimes to acknow- 
 ledge with shame that they know but little of the contents of 
 those works ovw which they have glanced, but which they have 
 tiot studied. Now, what is it that makes this difference, is it 
 because the natural powers of the mind are better adapted to the 
 remembering of sermons and sketches, and anecdotes, than 
 things in general, or the elements of things? Not at all, but 
 because so much time has been applied to the study of one class 
 of things, of one branch of literature, in which the person is 
 determined at all hazards to ^ccel ; that there is not sufficient 
 time left, or in other words, there is not sufficient time applied 
 to the study of other subjects to furnish the mind with general 
 information. There is reason to fear that some of those persons^ 
 whose ultimate object, as public speakers, is to be popular with 
 the masses, labour harder to tickle the ear, with h%h*sounding 
 words, funny stories, and spicy anecdotes, than to inform the 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 93 
 
 judgment and improve ..the moral condition of men. Tliej 
 desire to shine, and it is a pity that they cannot, occasionally at 
 any rate, call to mind the old proverb that " it is not all gold 
 that jgliliters.^^ And they do shine at times, and like " blazing 
 comets too," but it is only on certain topics, hut they are limitedy 
 and on special occasions, and th^ are hut few. Gall them 
 unexpectedly to speak before an audience, and if they cannot have 
 the privilege of introducing some one of those old studied and well 
 remembered pieces, and so travel in their accustomed tract, 
 they will either remain silent, which Would look bad under the 
 circumstances, or make an effort to speak and save their credit, 
 ami If an attempt is made aA orig|iiiality, in nine oases olit of ten 
 they make al»aii matter worse. Now, this need not be the case, 
 and it would not be, were it not for l2ie imposition practised upon 
 the memory by forcing it into one channel constantly, and 
 thereby depriving it of mat varie^ 'which gives efficiency to all 
 its operations. The injury done to the meniory by habits of 
 this kind is incalculably great. And the benefits that will aeerme 
 to the ha!^tual thinker who fnirsues with diligence and avHity 
 the opposite of this^ appears to a -person who does not think and 
 Temember for gofierol occasions, more like a mifaclawMmght in 
 tlra man than a i»aitural conseiquence,* resulting from an a^ica- 
 tion of the mind to subjects of equal worth, with sufficient time 
 allotted to eachj and dxie attention Jto all. ? i»;j^»j< 
 
94 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 > " ■ , ■> ■ 
 
 All hm .' 
 
 ■ :'• \\' 
 
 sM i. 
 
 CHAPTER Vm. 
 
 irJ'Mii' 
 
 THE ACTIONP OF OONSCIOUSNUSS US RE^BMSHRINO. 
 
 Sec. 1 ; Clasii/ication afmenwry and conaeiatuniesii. To 
 classify, the memoi^ into^constitutional memory/' '^philosophioal 
 memory/' and intelntional recolleotion, &c. eeryes, in our o{»iiion, 
 more to throw a mi&t ovet its real nature than to explain its 
 powers and operations. ! And any man who might foUow the 
 description which is given hy some popular authors, or . writers 
 atanyrate,ofthe principles of mentol philos(^»l]^ S()i^ht very 
 easily he led to form erroneous ideas of thememor^r. And 
 this is not unfrcquently the* case, with persons not very well 
 informed in this particular suhject, and hein^ rather credulous 
 witbal, and.acting^ under the general impreseioni that has 
 passed current ^roetituries, that) hafiiiiig only [remaioS' with a 
 favoured few; and who are in consequence of »these peculiar 
 views entertained, imbibed, and cherished froni childhood, who 
 are in the habit of reading, when they read at all, certain 
 favourite authors, and adopting their sentiments without ever 
 indulging a thought that they should be submitted in any 
 degree to philosophical scrutiny. Now, the error that is most 
 likely to occur from reading this complicated and exceedingly 
 mystified description of memory, as above adverted to, is ; either 
 to Buppopc it exists in diflferent kinds, a"^d that each kind is 
 adapted to the remembrance of a certain course of things and 
 nothing else ; or that memory is a something in the soul that is 
 made up of a variety of parts which constitutes one faculty of 
 the soul that acts of itself, and from itself, and for itself ; neither 
 of which, according to our conception, is 'philosophically correct. 
 
 Let it be remembered that we do not state here that there is 
 only one faculty of the soul employed in what we call remember* 
 Ing, for, as we have stated before, this is not the case. But we 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 9& 
 
 need to bo very cautious how we speak on subjects like this, and 
 should spare no pains to make them plain and clear ; and indeed 
 we feel anxious to bring it down to the youth, and every degree 
 of intellect that is, or can be made to understand simple facts of 
 this nature at all. And the reason is lost while, we admit the 
 power of the memory to grasp in different subjects, to compre- 
 hend different ideas, to present before the mind different circum- 
 stances, we mean by all this we perceive different things irk, the 
 pasty we should believe it ourselves 9s and represent it to others as 
 existing in a complicated form, as a faculty comppsed of many 
 parts, which as we conceive is not true. The. phrenologist 
 however tells us ihat the memory is better adapted to the remem- 
 brance of scfme things th^n otl^ers, Such for eptmple,; that 
 som& perGfons ca9 remember oountenaaoes but Apt names, indi^ 
 vidma^, lilttt not their looalities, ^c., and that there are certain 
 organiq developments in the craniuni and face th<|t Indicate their 
 adaptation to the i^membrance of some tlungs aid.iheir forget-, 
 fulneasof Qthe? t^og8< But w^tever th^ phrenologist mighi 
 suppose the bump» in the head ^ indicate, and whatever may 
 be the inference thait he ipay. dri^w from IJieir ezistepce and their 
 sise.; one thing bpks to me to be certain that if the individual 
 would take as mudi interest in the name of a person zm he does 
 in his otmMeminc^ lie ^oij^ld. repen^ber the one ji:^t as well as 
 the other. , ^ 
 
 Sue, 2.*^ Of the will in rememhering. The wHl is very 
 often and very actively engaged in this mental operation which 
 we call "remembering,'^ both in direotinig) planning, approving, 
 and repudiating, afi well as. in many instances, in controlling, to 
 a great ei^tent, the perceptive faculty, andiil exciting, increas- 
 ing, and fostering an interest in the things to be remembered, 
 but it forms no part of the memory. 
 
 Sec* 3 ; Of consciousness . and the part which it fUs in 
 remembering.. This faculty of the soul is also a very operative 
 one, end its action is essential in all cases of remembering. And 
 as its action is so necessary to remember correctly, and as it 
 forms one of the essential elements of memory, and as what we 
 have said above in reference to the supposed parts of the memory 
 requires a little more explanation, and as an explanation of the. 
 natiiire and operation of consciousness will, to a great extent;^ 
 
,96 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 1 • 
 
 answer this purpose, it may be proper to introduce it herein 
 eonnection with our explanation of the "classification" of 
 memory ; and more especially as we have briefly glanced at this 
 before with a design to advert to it again. And in doing so we 
 would remark that consciousness appears to assume two distinct 
 forms, that is to say, a positive form, and a n^ative form. 
 There are also many degrees in each of these forms, both of the 
 negative tod the positive. Hence, thtd presinnpHveneas that 
 invariably exists iiT the soul before the perception of anythimg 
 in the past, which we have perceived before, and which we now 
 desire to perceive again to serve our present purpose. Wedo> 
 not speak of the perception of that presumptiveness, because that 
 would only be to perceive that we presume ; but the perception of 
 which w6 here speak is the perception of the real nature of the 
 subject with its associations and dependencies, which in the first 
 place was only presumed. And therefore the authoritative and 
 positive form Of consciousness appears after th^ presumption land 
 the perception. This aldo can oepi^ved from oureiqperienoe. 
 For example, a person who is desirous to prove a oertaiu pdni 
 that is both of advantage to himself and others, but h^bftsto 
 resort to his past experience to accomplish that olqeet, has an 
 inward consciousness that ther6 is something in l^e paert bearing' 
 on the point, a something thathafl'alreadybeJBn under the mind's 
 observation. And he^ it must be observed that the soul assumes 
 a su^estive modification. For the person is not conscious, at 
 the time of this presumption or su^estive form assumed, of the 
 real nature and strength of the evidence which can be |»roduoedy 
 for this would be to remember it already ; but the individu»]| 
 feels tomething within him that stimulates him to indu^ the 
 hope, and prompts'liim to believe, and on the istrengdi of this 
 he ventures, there is something in my past history that will 
 assist me in the better understanding of this subject now before 
 me, the general outlines of which I have a feint idea. Now, 
 ^s degree of consciousness appears to have sufficient influence 
 in the soul to arouse the energies and action of the Will. And 
 when the will comes to be once aroused to action, in any given 
 case, the d^ree of that action, to a very great extent, if not to 
 every extent, will be governed by the importance of the subject, 
 that is to say, by what appears to the soid to be of great value 
 and importance to itself., 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THB^ MKMORY. 
 
 m 
 
 i herein 
 tion" of 
 id at this 
 ing so we 
 ) distinct 
 ive form. 
 )thofthe 
 neas that 
 anything 
 h we now 
 We do 
 arise that 
 seption of 
 ire of the 
 1 the first 
 atiye and 
 ption land 
 ^lerienoe. 
 »iti pdnt 
 heha«to 
 tty has an 
 it bearing' 
 bemind*s 
 1 assumes 
 sciouS) at 
 ed, of the 
 produced, 
 ndividttftl 
 du^ the 
 ^ Of this 
 : that will 
 owbefcHre 
 Now, 
 influence 
 ill. And 
 my given 
 , if not to 
 e subject, 
 reat value 
 
 Sec, A; 0/ the iouVa decision. When the conseiow^Bess 
 in its snggestivc degree has produced sufficient interest in the 
 soul by which the will is induced to exercise its authority over 
 the- perceptive faculty, and when the perceptive faculty is, by 
 the authority of the will, sent in search of those suppo&ed 
 truths, which may be far in the distance, and when it r^>ortu 
 the results of its investigations, consciousness acts throi\eh every 
 stage of that mental process iik hs positive form. Ar.d thus it 
 is that the process of remembering begins with thin j^resumptive 
 form of the soul, whiok aetion is repeated and ittereased in ita, 
 d^ee till it seeures the action of .the will in any given point, 
 and then it is that tlia perceptive faculty is called to action in 
 this direetion, now. required by the soul fiur Its present purposes,^ 
 called to act by the will, the nature of whieh actions ai;e subject, 
 to. the decision of consciousness, in its positive form. 
 
 Sec,^: Oonscioitsneas ha$manif degrees of aetion. Con-, 
 seioiisness assumes more forma or degrees of action than we can> 
 find words to express. For example, when, a sounc^ that is, a^ 
 certain kind of sound strikes the ear, we are <H>nBcious that we. 
 heard a noise, and as conscious of it as we are of our existence ;, 
 yet of the origin, cause, or nature of that sound we may be 
 totally ignorant. And if we hear ft again we aie Qonscious it 
 is the same kind of sound, and this perhaps is all that we are 
 conscious of, only that we are conscious we do not k.now whal^ 
 it is. But we hear it again and Tjre think it i^ a human, yoicc, 
 but we are not sure, yet we experience a degree of assura^Qo 
 above the former degrees, because, then we only heard the 
 sound, without hdving an^ presuniptipn in referen<ie to what it 
 was, but now we think it is a human vo|ce ; but we merely^ 
 ihink ^t is, ao^ the mind, as it were, becomes suspended, we 
 pause, we listen attentively, we strain the eye and the ear, and. 
 hujsh to s^en(;e all around us, waiting with the deepest anxiety 
 — with thrilling interest, that at this time pervades the soul, 
 to hear again ; and then we become conscious from eertaiiii 
 articulations in the sound, that it is a human lipice. And 
 when we hear again, we are not only conscious that it is a. 
 human voice, but it is one with which wc are acfjuainted ; here 
 we perceive anpt^ier degree. But when the sound strikes the 
 ear again we are able to recognize it to be the voice of a friend, 
 a near relative, perhaps of a brother. Now, in every act, in 
 I 
 
98 
 
 PHILOSOMY OP THE xMEMOBY. 
 
 this mental prooe«K9, oonsciousncHs aBsunies a new form,, or 
 another degree in the exercise of its power. But this does not 
 prove, as we conceive, that this faculty is a compound, but only 
 that it has power to assume modifications suited to the impor- 
 tant part which it is designed to fill in the soul. A want of 
 attention to this principle of our nature has led some to 
 confound the idea of the power of our elementary facaUies to 
 assume certain modifications, with a supposed notion of parts 
 in the menj^, and thereby have been led to suppose, as we 
 have before oMcrved, that the memory is a faculty of the soul 
 made up of a great variety of parts, whereas it is simply the 
 result of the combined action of twa pf th» most prominent 
 |acaltieB:of the^ul, viz., perception and eonsoiousness. 
 
 
 .'1 ■ . 
 
 d/^>l U'p ,:.., 
 
 ■ ,. > ■. 
 
 ■■1 •! 
 
 .: .■y. 
 
 ■•■■ i>r- u hi'M^iW .') 
 
 • )'^»4'.'l 
 
 ii^^ 
 
 . < I . , 1 
 
 :J „>■■ 
 
 r. . . 'f ■■ 
 
 U -; 
 
 
 A , • 
 
 ^J.>■yiiit 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOKY. 
 
 119 
 
 K 
 
 CHAPTER li. 
 
 OF THE LAWS OF THE llEMORT. 
 
 tSii€» 1 ; The memory is apvertied by regular ettalt^ished 
 laws. We shall now proceed to notice s<»ne of those li^wfl 
 whidi govern and regulate the action of the memory. And 
 the first which wo shall call attention to is the law of iitfie and 
 placBy which is ohyiously operative in rememhering of circum- 
 stanees of ippeat interest to tho soul; for at such times it 
 appears to be the uniform practice of Uie perceptive faculty to 
 go both to time i^nd plaoe. ,; : And this fact can bo made fuain 
 to an^ persi9|i wW vill spare a few mpmenH now and thcn^ to 
 think on the subject and examine his own experience^ 
 Suppose then, an individual relates a circumstapee to me affect- 
 ing the interest; of aiuither person^ and several wedis, and 
 perhaps months elapse^ and n^ farther mention is made of it, 
 but eventually it comes to be known to the interested, party 
 that fuoh.ihings were told to me, and consequently I am called 
 upon to relate, an4 as correctly as possible, seeing it is a matter 
 of grfttt inuier^ce, all the paitioulars of the conversation. 
 Nowv in doing this, I find my mind inclining as naturally as 
 water inclines tpi a common level, to the place where the 
 cirotuQAStance wias related to me by my informant, and not to 
 the. place where it was said, by the person who -related it tome 
 to have occurred, but directly to the place where the person 
 and I were when he reliiteid the circumstance to me. 
 
 Sec, 2.:' Perception alights upon the time. The .next 
 dSfort which the perceptive faculty will make is to aliglit upon 
 the time whuen ; and l^is effort is increased or diminished in 
 proportion to the importance or nonimjbrtance of ascertaining 
 the exact time that such conversation. took place. If the exact 
 time happens to form no important ingredient in the occurrence, 
 
 • 
 
100 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THB MEWLORY. 
 
 its progress will not be »t ull arrested by particularizing the 
 precise day of the week, or even the exact month of the year ; 
 but yet if it is perceived at all it must be perceived within the 
 bounds of some time as well as within the limits of some place. 
 Therefore, in perceiving any circumstance, the law of mind 
 appears to be such that some definite settlement in regard to 
 what portion of time it occurred ill, must be made bv the mind. 
 And it is impossible also' Ibr ' hny person who misht oe called to 
 state what was told to him^ under circumstances above described, 
 not to take notice ot^/ thot^ti he uifght not i6nd it necessary to 
 relate, the features, complexion, stature, and many of the 
 gestures of the individual who related thccittumstance to him ; 
 bftt the process trough whidh th6" i)eroeptivef ft*U% goes in 
 mu'einbering these various and liifnutid^rtieularBwe Idl! not 
 how attempt to deseribe. NevcHheiess wc^ might remark thfit 
 the laif of tik^ej like every other law which o^t* Almighty 
 Oreatot' has rnddc, seemfi evidently to h6\d the memory ^thin 
 edrtaiticiri^niiiiwribed limits, ttM ekertd bv6r it a'mys^rious 
 jjlblrei'. ' • F6r example, a t^rtain' l^ubject is prc^nted t6 the mind 
 ^hiehifeutiires 0<^Fpb6rtte2tig testimony, sohiethiflfg that re^tiires 
 to be denied 6r affiled fh>m the pal^t. Nbw; it Oi 'ifn the pbtrer 
 of tie itfiU to direet ifie menicnry, mpi^6 piME>ef!jf «|MiAciiig; the 
 perteptive ftrctllty to'searcb for such cihJUmstfence, ^ing that 
 the soul has already an ih#ard conscioui!iri<36s of iMmetlung 
 oXistiii|» in the'i)<ist bearing 6ii the point in y][ii^stion, i^tHtnigh 
 it is only c^nseibtts of some of it* leading feattrres. Atid where 
 tht^ eihstimstftne^ thus ^redeht^ ^ates ft fhiht e<^e^p6oii of 
 the ili^biibSlity 6f corres^ttOtrii^ (Tii^msknees ih the • ^t/ the 
 penieptiVe faculty, l^ the dil^ectrOh Of tlie ttnil, 1***b ii' wide, 
 attd it appears a kind of i-andbm glance; It leiftps fi^otfi dity to 
 day, fVoMi moiith:to month, and' frtmiyfear to. year, bAck^ards 
 and foiVard^, upwards 'aiid ' doWnWiirde. with itcOnoeivaWie 
 swift fttess,' til! it alighta lipOn febnie Jwriion' 6f tiiMC in! Which it 
 perceives the errcttihstarice ' to 'have taken pliiic^, wMle 'the 
 consciousness of the soul by the authority of its suggestive form 
 aetttes the perceptive faculty to these limits. Now, this portion 
 of tinie?,' ^ dieterniined on, f^hother it is great or sUiall; nigh by us 
 ot^ftt #fdm us, appears M in established IMv to attraof and hold 
 th6'perceptivefe6Ulty, wnile it scratinit^^^^^^ 
 its bosotii for the hidden 'treasure. Aii^ so it is that when a 
 circumstance is represented to the soul ashaviu!; taken jilace in 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 101 
 
 the lost week, then the lont week forms the boundary, the field of 
 invefltigation for the perceptive faculty ; and though it muy 
 occasionally leap beyond its limits, yet,, it is made to feel, and 
 that very soon too, the powerful and irresistible law of time, 
 which, in connection with the previous decision of the Roul on 
 this point, will speedily bring it back. 
 
 This can be more fully illustrated, perhaps, by a reference to 
 our youthful days. Suppose then, a circumstance to have 
 transpired in our childhood, and the soul being desirous to 
 ascertuin all the particulars of such circumstance, the will, vis. 
 the choosing power, calls to action the proper agent to investi- 
 gate the matter, that is, perception. Now, the portion of time 
 that embraces our youthful days, holds, as a general thing, the 
 perceptive faculty, as if it wore bound in a oircTe^ yet, it can leap 
 over a term of thirty or forty years, and appeara to perceive no 
 circumstance that has transpired therein, while its attention is 
 arrested by the kw of time and held by its «or: nesting portions 
 iill it ezapnines our infant days, and presents to us i^ variety of 
 youjJiiful aqenes iu connection with the one which was the more 
 specific, object qf its pursuit. What has been said in reference 
 to time may also be .said in regard to opnmeoting portions of 
 place.. For while place is under the oonsidenitionofthesQul, 
 the connecting portioned thereof, to a certain extent, seem to 
 measure out limits lor the mind's especial, attention, and the 
 inemciy seems to seise upon the opportiunity of investigating 
 una presenting to the soul surrounding localities, such as houses, 
 gardens, orphards, villagpss, 1»wni^,^o., that are n^r to the place 
 under its more immediate notice. 
 
 Sec. 3 .' Law o/ relation, Jixxji the law of relation is su»< 
 ceptible of a very wide, application, and with some degree of 
 propi^iety may be said to include^ to a groat e^ctent thoae of 
 time and place wluch we haveibi^iefly noticed abj)ve. Because, 
 it is quite evident that ene portion of time, be it over so snwdl, 
 has. some relation to ^not^her portion , of time which transpired 
 before it, and also to that portion of tiipe whipli immediately 
 snoeeeds it. And the same may be said of place. For from 
 the mutual dependnuce of places Arising from trade and cnnv 
 meroe of various description, from joint stock companies, rail- 
 roads, canals, and from various other connectional circumstances 
 
102 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 1 
 
 too numerous to mention, that grow out ofnocial life, from 
 relation between places, and especially between those that are 
 near. But in reference to the law of relation and how it 
 governs the memory wo might obseiTe : 
 
 See. 4 ; (1) That the memory is not always tinder the 
 control of the will, that is to say, we cannot remember things 
 merely because we choose to riemember ; and the same may be 
 said of many things which, though we do not choose to remem- 
 ber, at the sometime wd' cannot n)rget. 
 
 See. 5 ; ' (2) Td will to rcrdember aiiy one dpeoifio eyent or 
 circumstance, in all its details is. to suppdse the thing already 
 remembered ; because, the objects cannot be speeiiedwithdut 
 perceiving them, and porcefving these objects to be in thd past, 
 is to remember them. 
 
 Stc. 6 .* (3) As we cannot remember merely by choosing, or 
 by t)r«ferring to remtniber. rather than not; for if this were the 
 case the most of people w6uld have a "good memory." Yet, as 
 w« do remember,' and it^ know we do, and ;^et not ah^ by 
 merely putting A)Hhottr volition to do sQt it Mow« that the 
 memory is caui^ into aefiion by some \Mr which is regular, 
 dperative, frnd'eMabliiihed fbr thiat' piirposie, and acts in oon- 
 juhction with other hiwsj by ni^hieh the metaory becomes regulat- 
 ed, stimulated; and Str<mg^en«d, ' •; ' 
 
 ,''i ■:>, 
 
 'See, 7 .' Esttmt o/ >efo<%ofi; Thli^^ teirm trfaftton that we 
 have used here is very extensit^, ahdlf^we undemtand' it in 
 its uttermost latitude of meaning, it may be considered univer- 
 sal, vtz. : it eicists betlreen all subiordinute existences and the 
 Almighty Bein^. FornsmUeh^ttS' all: beings whither may be 
 their iiattit«, or wheretelf' mny be their locality, must as a mat- 
 ter of necessity hatte dferlved their efxistenee fWto God ; they 
 avrtherefore related" to him by these oblig^tiptis and depch- 
 idendics, «s bein» his creatur^; tind'^ sttch ttrt^'depenrditig on 
 hiih ibr lifo ant} ooitiibrt. Therefore, viewi<ig rektien in this 
 light it may be said to exist between' thecreatuite and tho 
 Cmtot in extent e<|ual to the mcfe tmt>e«c; >'■'-'■ 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE 3I:e;M0KY. 4(^ 
 
 But relation is iusccptibic of a more minute and definite 
 explanation, a brief description of which yia now proceed to 
 give. And for the better underntanding of thiH . port of our 
 subject, we might glanoe at that relation which exists 
 between material things ; and therefore wo would observe that, 
 all organiied beings are properly related to each other on ono 
 great principle, that is derivation from the same elemciitary 
 substances, mt that the same number of elements^ nor the 
 same amount of each tl^eni enters into the organization of 
 every being but we simplv mean that there are eertain element- 
 ary substances which wiU be found in greater or less quantities 
 in all organized beings. And it is this sameness of elementary 
 substances that is found to exist, more or less, in all organized 
 ' behigs, whioU appears to ua to oontititute a relation between them. 
 And it might not be altogether an unprofitable. thought; though 
 a very humiliating consideration,' for the pnmd dapot who 
 sways his soeptri over nations and rules them "^ith a tyranCs 
 bind, to esii toi mind the great philosophical^ trutii that the 
 same ekmentS) in kind, wihioh constitute the organizaition of 
 his Watohful dog, or the «oio ofhis humble peasaat, that wallows 
 in the mire, or the ironnthat 'Crawla beneatb hia Itet, enters 
 into^his own organieatioa, and aire essential to the preservation 
 of his life and health. Which great leading principle, that 
 predominfrtes^ through organic lifi^ Dot.onlar'OWMtitutes a relation 
 betw^n ihim • and the beggar on. a duaghiU^ b«t also betw>een 
 hini and \in9Kefkeif^$dogI Bai to traoe this in Retail would 
 be im^Mssible in'many instanoes, an&if.it wene|>otr^KAl»ogiiago 
 #oaid!iiid 'herself inadequate to poovide woros toieamress the 
 millionth patt of the degrees of t&at reLation. J^Qtwlthstand- 
 ing, no xmib^ \ should suiq^ose, oonld be fouad who^ would pre- 
 sume to say. that there was no relsiloa between m iUrM which 
 lives to-day,<an4 ft Aojisft which lived 3tOOO ffoxB a^. : And 
 the same maybeaaid of every! qwoies.ef the aaimal crfiationif 
 we could > trade their ipedigree baok tn. Noah'i A^. So «lso is 
 the Delation in the vegetable worid ueqmilly :as ilegitikaatA and 
 obvious^ The oak 4)f<the< present oeiitaxljr, whiohoeo«|MM98 lueh 
 a conspi<>uous place in our forest, and apieadi^^ita tixitenng 
 branches to every point of the compass, and shelters the weary 
 traveller bebiath its mighty Mag^-lBk^inde^ loth t» hie a 
 mmdjiioUud plant] but it has its thread of rcilatSwi, though 
 we may not be tible to trace it. And yet it is as miioh related 
 
104 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
 to some oak that lived before it, as we are to our parents who 
 lived before us ; and could we follow on that chain of relation, 
 as correctly as it e^^ists, we should be taken back from century 
 to century till we should eventually find ourselves in the days 
 of Adam, and among the first generation of animals and v^ar 
 tables, where we oould no longer trace descent . <mly to that 
 Almighty hand that formed the universe and wond. 
 
 Sec. 8; Of relation in tlie world of mind* Having briefly 
 ghmced at relation in oKiganiied mattier, we are now prepared to 
 devote a shdrt space to the consideration of that classification 
 and relation which exists in the world of mind. 
 
 ^ec. 9 ; Of mond Iruth, And here we might oheervifr that 
 it requires no great amount of effort for any one who possesses 
 discernmentenough to constitute him a rational being to discover 
 a state of mind .which is called «nom2tYy, that is, aiclass of 
 moral truths, precepts, and obligations which hold us wiUi a 
 tenacious grasp and authoritativoiy demand attentkm to tibeir 
 claims. This system of morality when .properly carried out 
 
 • resolves itself iai& two branches, one to God -the author of our 
 beings and the Other to liis intelligeiii creation. .It will- be 
 observed also that an intimate reiiKtion exists between all moral 
 truths. For dxamplOj we take it &r an. estaUi^ed truth that 
 there is an .^mighty Being' who created all things, and that he 
 is infinite^ wisie and holy iikall his thought^ and just and 
 true^inalliiis ways, Aiidwe4)elieve. that ha was. be&rie all 
 things, and by him all things were made,, that he hijaseif made 
 man.' T^ believe the opposite of this would not only be to commit 
 a great outrage on the intelleotual department ol' tlie soul, but 
 would be immoral in the highest d^pree. Hence, tlus is a great 
 moral truth, and.it is related to the one that inan iskid undor 
 the most solemn obligatioBf to love and mrve him ; and tha( 
 liwral truth whioh exfaftttte man'a duty cff mhprdination to God 
 is related to the one that 7i« lihmld love his neufhhar ai htmidf; 
 and thus we eaailv disoover that one moral truth is rehited to 
 t^Xkoihet moral truth. 
 
 • • ' • ' " ■ . 
 
 See, 10 .* FhUoaopkioai tru^, Thia is another class of 
 
 , truths, and diffsra something from moral tenth, inasmuch as 
 its method of proving is by demonstration "while moral truth 
 
PHOEIiOSOPHY OF TRE MEMORY. 
 
 105 
 
 nts wlio 
 'elation, 
 century 
 le days 
 id vegar 
 to that 
 
 ! ''■ 
 
 5 briefly 
 »aredto 
 ifioation 
 
 rvi&that 
 ossesses 
 liscover 
 daiss of 
 I with a 
 tottheir 
 ied out 
 of our 
 nriU- he 
 1 moral 
 ithithat 
 that he 
 ist and 
 tfbrie all 
 If made 
 oommit 
 >ul)biit 
 a great 
 I undw 
 ad tha( 
 toQod 
 imiel/', 
 Atedto 
 
 lUlBS of 
 luch as 
 I truth 
 
 oan only communicate tlie highest degree of probabilitv/' 
 (Lock^i) Now, it must be observed that philoflophioal tirtttll^afi 
 its countless branoheSj widely diffused through the universe of 
 matter J and the universe efmtmf; and yet, they are all related 
 to the one greiit prominent and ruling priaicipie, arouncl Which 
 they rally) and to Which they invariably ctmgj and in whicll 
 they all concetrate, that is to say, the principle of deikoA^ 
 strat'ion* ■ ^ -jUy 4i;u.'s.i;<i/;^ - 
 
 BiMuydtrntkl It is w^' ^^wi^ to every sincere biblieal 
 student' that onle bible ' truths ^ougfa recorded two thousand 
 yea^ before anothes^ and undor jcnoumstances the very 
 oftppsitCj' in n^uiy v^peife, relates to another bible truth and is 
 corroborated ^reby}' and all biMeitmih is governed' by and 
 rektiBd to the gr^t principle and fl^n<^fatontmeti€^'ii' ■''.-. 
 
 >' Sec, 11 T \ BishricalPmth. 'This depai^ment of knowledge 
 naturally forms itself into classes; such for example as^ Ancient 
 and modem, ecclesiastiod and natural ; each class holding in 
 its own cfrcuni^?end6'its lippropriate^ventSw And these events 
 possess « mutual relation' itteodh separate eltos ; while every 
 class andievei'y branch and depturtment in ewnry elost is related 
 tothegreaNs jirinbiplo;<1iMch is tiie essence i and «oul of ail 
 hiiitolry^ vi£.> a'tartieand eoireet rtocwd (^et«|ilfk!JBut. to attempt 
 to gife a i&iBute defitieAtioii' of every subordinite ^branch of 
 hUtety^thut gro^s ouC-of thoeemose prominent! 6ties^ to Whidi 
 we hsk-fe aUuded^j would not xnilv Vd mieign ftomOup ikitoition 
 in thistnuill' JS!tf«aVj Wt migktnn reality prove as uninteresting 
 and tedibus to tne 'reitd^< as i^ anticipated by the writer. 
 Enough, hewe^eirj hae^ been said on thiii topifi to server our 
 present purpose; Which is to show that the natural world 
 thot^h milted and bound by one great principfe) viz. element- 
 ary substane^ ^et, it is formed into nwnenra<i classes, And 
 modified into an infinite tnumber of siiesy qualities, and forms. 
 And ialm though tiie mental worid is goverUed by ind. intinmtely 
 related to one greit prininple^ knowledge, yet it forms itself into 
 an! infinite numbei^of classes, and that brides the general tie 
 of relation whi^ holds each prominent part to its appropriate 
 9T governing prinei]|)le, there Hi existing in each class m peculiar 
 relation which Iroeps together, as a generid thing, the various 
 items of knowledge whidh compose such class, ' ■ 
 
106 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOEY. 
 
 Sec^ 12 : Of attrdctidn and how it applies. Now, let it be 
 observed, tlukt' m thet phmcal world there is a \tkir which is 
 called attracHoni This law of attraction is mysteriously power- 
 ful, and exists through the whole material uniTCffid ; but still it 
 is nbt Uniform in iras operations, though it is found to exist 
 
 XiiUy ihiloiigh nXt bodies ;r that is tb sajr, it does not operate in 
 bcuicjs in ihe same manner. Some' : bodies by the law of 
 attraction of gravitation are put in motion and so continued 
 by a power which it has to keep such body at a sufficient dis- 
 tuMe 'fh>m surrounding impedfaiieiits ; while the motion of o<her 
 bodies ilt arrested by the s^e lawJ ' This is' obviourf ' from- the 
 following: facts, vis : ' soino bodies aie dmvhi to the '^e^tre. of 
 attractioB' whM tlieit motion ceases, Kke.the apple whkh^Us 
 fTom^1lle ti«6^ or a bHqjk: that Alls flom tSie eh^innfy ; whereas 
 the oppositeis the casdl m otiber instances, like water in a'stniw, 
 or liquid in a sponge, or the blood in the animal system ; yet 
 this 'is an donfi<r»yii Ihei tittne 'great and- iiiiivarskl l«w>of 
 
 A,- 
 
 Now, the lise that we design ^s^ke of the above is td suggest 
 the poslsiftfiUty of the htif of dttraotion in inaliter -as analagoos 
 to ihe operation, o^ther law lOf-ielatfon ommindi That is to 
 say, thef law ' of relation ^ aa 'a genohd thing,: ; holds the inmory 
 to ilieir oWn flJ|>proipriate Events, te the law of itttraqtion holds 
 the ' varidus ibmiies imder its- '|)ower to tSidr own' appropriate 
 operations* The one is a great m y steiy, but uiiiv«rstdly 
 admitted to-be a Ikct ; i thei other Is oerta&dy equally mysterious 
 and; as we conceive it, ud less- tr^e^ Bift io bd ^ littb more 
 definite and expliicit we would 'remark ^t the law of relatioii 
 in the world of mtnd| seems to serve d twofold purpoise. /^ 
 
 See, 13 :■ (1) It works in « manner very pdwerful, exteu- 
 sive, eenstant and remarkably operative with the senses, and 
 it appears that it is always ptesent at theexeroise of every sense 
 of tiw soul. It batches the sensation intently and fatdifully, 
 and is always ready to suggest, with the sight of every object 
 that strikes the sense, a similarity between that and some other 
 objeoti We cantiot describe this law, because, we do not 
 understand itj we do not know how ib is done, we only know 
 that it is done; and yet we know as much about this as any 
 other law connected with either our body or mind. But it 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMOBY. 
 
 107 
 
 appeals evident that it is owing to this law principally that the 
 mind is kept in such constant action, viz., by suggesting 
 resemblances in almost every thing that strikes the senses. 
 
 Sec. 14 .* (2) This law of relation not only seems io sug- 
 gest the resemblance between things, but it seems to stand as 
 a great centre of attraction, not only on the perceptive^ whether 
 it is engaged iu the past, m» |)ir6itetiit or the future, but upon 
 every element of the soul. And it seems to put in a claim on 
 the soul's attention, which it' cannot well resist, for all classes of 
 events as a whole, and for each class separately and individually, 
 as oixoumstaaces may i^ulr^ aSiififroi^ the ponsi^erat|on that 
 eaohindivid^l oircimistancQ belongs io; fact;, a94 |iQ!9ep9]:Uy^ 
 to its own f^pvopriate.4lfi8&^ iM»d beiqg sp ^uggefiti<^d thisUw 
 demands, fxiom tim^.to tiiK9, the «onl'9 Attention jt^, thecan^ec- 
 tion^ relation; agremenit, or^agrectniept oC,|tiiU¥tgs^,9^ Umqaso 
 may be. , Thu&thd law.of r«ilatioiiJmplan<^..|p< our mental 
 nature, appears to resblv^itself into afonn, through ih^ instru- 
 mentality of die senaes, by iwhioh the soul concaves «• ^wnty 
 in things nttdera the notice; of the. jp^rc^v^^^^^K^^i- which, is 
 called by some ^^involuntary conc^to.'!. 4#4 ^^ Wp)A'^'^^'^^ 
 tos^y that if proper attention is p^dtethpop^ation of ou^r 
 own xftinds we shall isoont. be; aUe to see that northing civi be 
 reniemb^red, whelher; great or ^all,; whethf^ we jlesire it or 
 not, whether it is i^lejasant or unpleasant, which is nf)^.siibse- 
 quent to the exercise, and produced by the ii^iuence of an 
 origind, or cotiBoious cowteption, which, appears under pany^ 
 instances, if not under most, to be purely involuntary, and yet 
 iihe Uifttural offspring of the law of irelatjiop,. ; , y.,>^i 
 
 ■,''i\ \ml rv- 
 
 
t08 
 
 PHILOSOPHY Of THE MEMORr. 
 
 a.: rui- 
 
 'jijiiSi- 
 
 iu.{im >\' • 
 
 
 r'*.iys)a 4i.'. 
 
 CHAPyBRX. 
 
 6i« ElOOIiLSOtlON. 
 
 i^ 'Hi i' 
 ■■■ -i'TfA 
 
 • Umii-h** vl Wii-'. . 
 
 > -iOi hUM, ^^hd'ii a -kPSJJJ 
 
 iS^c. 1 r IS^^^V ttiig ig imp|WB0dl^to Im II s^ of 
 mind whkfft, in addition to o«ir remdtnlNiring (kT thiiigs^ o6lleot<^ 
 them together, Irhiioh, id oar hiMnbleoiMnioii, is BMte ittioginary 
 ^haii read ; aftd the ** guthetifig tiDjgcftmaK^tepoti a niiirat^ inves- 
 tigatioh iiito th^&et ^1) be founif to olHi^t, as we haVe before 
 suggested) in Ihe aetivHy Of th^^tcejpt&te fiieiilty'; for it doo» 
 not a|>p6ar to be possible fbt aitf itidividaal to remettiber dis- 
 tifiott^ Hi&tii than one object at the saak^ time. We frejijuontly 
 talk tff holdit% 11 obHeetion of ideas before the mind at onoe, a» 
 if we oould grasp 20, 50, orl50 Aiongfhts all at one time. Now, 
 ^is iisi true i«t a eotnparative sen80,> because^ the time in which 
 it can be dtiine is, tinder certain cirbttmstano^ «o sAorl iW it 
 can scarce^ be m«fi9(ir^ at all ; but then it is not trne positive- 
 ly, ai^cl tho reaisoii is, ihe mind cannot thitik twice at onetiuie. 
 iot aiji^ one'^r^^ tho^ezperfinent for his own satisfaction, atid he 
 will f)k6\ ^^ look'eharpj how many ideas he can hold before his 
 wnd At one tkne ; IethimJ)lace his mind iniently upon a»many 
 objects as he can, and I shall be greatly tnistidcen if he will not 
 be forc^ to acknowledge that the numerous collection which he 
 thought to embrace at a single glanoe, is reduced to one idea. 
 l^i to make this as plain as po8sible,to those portions of the com- 
 munity for whose benefit we write, viz., tiie youth who have- 
 not bjEwl time to study this subject closely, and the illiterate who 
 have not had sufficient advantages and facilities to enable theuk 
 to, study works of larger dimension, and of deeper penetration ^ 
 Mre ifiii suppose an individual to try to remember two circum- 
 staniQes.: the one to have been in company with a certain 
 stranger, and the other the nature of the conversation which 
 took place at the time. Now, it will be seen that the relation 
 between these two circumstances is intimate and strong ; never- 
 
PH IliOSOfPHV OP THE MDMOHY. 
 
 m 
 
 [ihekss, tlid^ daiihnbt b«»th Ibd r6ih«kibet^ SisfchielFjr; ftt the SD^ 
 time. And let'tif fltippose thje persotf Irho saw the strongei', to 
 be interrbgatcid in r^gtirc^ to ^ peitMinal »^pearaiioie,ftiid that he 
 ! prooeeds U> demribe. In sQ dbiug^ he Muds his itetceptire 
 I faculty intently placed) with all ks disoriniinating poWerjon^ the 
 features iof jthat nkan; and he^ will find' too>, that in giving that 
 description, the more ^he partiiiiilltfiMtr^inMl frtihdivid«i,the> more 
 stages hdwililHkY^ toipiss thiMo^ in hisdeBoription. Peiiiaps 
 a hundred m^^iontiy yea, a thc^isaiMt^^f' the pereeptites; A.e 
 willy iheoonscionniess- and senfle^of the sou), wmbo reduired lit 
 sui^yingtthestnaigerihmi'hiead to^foot^ th^ eolour of iuslia&', 
 theiihape oif the >^ i.thw eoinpfo]^ii'(»f; his (face, ' the he^t 
 of hi9.statiiej itl|&^«ifeeof hla^ bbdy^ the ^oW of hia eont; -^e 
 fh^ki|f)iiiiiih|it,i ai|d the i|uyity:rii£all;.4infd eaoli(*of'thei»;nnd 
 scores of others of a similar mature, requires a thought, 't^.;V a 
 motion of the soul. And the reasoawhy we do not pass through 
 all these intellectual stages evei^ time we think of the stranger 
 is, because the ciroiimstances of t^.e ease do not demand it, and 
 therefore, no effort is made to particularize. But, as we before 
 observed, here is the law of relation that attracts the memory, 
 when the will prefers a description of any complicated circum^ 
 stance. Now, it should be remembered that every one of these 
 subordinate particulars at which we have hinted, be they ever 
 so' minute, which compose that thread of events, occupies for a 
 time the perceptive faculty, though it^may be that the portion of 
 time is so inconceivably snort, that laingnage may not be able to 
 describe it. And on me. other hand, & the mind is directed to 
 the nature of the discourse, it loses sight of the stranger, that 
 is, his personal appearance, and passes step by step through the 
 various stages of the conversation, and all other incidents, while 
 the discourse is under oonsideration, are out of sight. And 
 what often makes us think we have the whole before us is, we 
 do not take notice of these occasional transits which the mind 
 takes from the conversation had with the stranger, to the 
 person of the stranger. Yet there are but few, if any at all^ 
 who have ever undertaken to follow a thread of reflection, but 
 have been troubled more or less with this wandering of the 
 mind; which is sufficient to prove to all persons who can see 
 the force of an argument, that the great difficulty with them at 
 such times is because th^y cannot investigate more than onck 
 
 K 
 
IIQ F»IM)SOPHY OP THE MBMORY. 
 
 tlttDg ait one ime, HieiHWy Uii« wandering of ibe Bunid, wbiak 
 eyery one experience, at tiiiiee,i8 a proof of the existence and ao- 
 Uon of the law of tsansition, and which law^ as we belief?e, h 
 remarkably , operative on the perceptive faculty in the act of | 
 remembering^ Beoolleptio^, therefore, so far as we oonoeive, 
 aimpW Imphes a transition of perception into the past, and an 
 act of coQSoiousness deeiding;l£Bit sooh things'then peroeiTed by 
 the mind, have been penoeiv^ by the wind befere. Neverthe- 
 leiaB„ the t^rm " BecoDeotioD," may be need toezfMress a remem> 
 brimce in a high degree ^ ^ that ia, reoMmbering a . great many 
 things* m a,Bl|oct time; but to uneit to jrepnesent £e 'mind as 
 fH^UjMting thesiQ :thpi|i2ht0<3u^Jionej9h«id,>f^^ dist^ndes of 
 time and splice^ aii4ibriQging.th^m allto ihe>|presenitimewand 
 llacC) is aiK abuse ^f th^toiu, aiid the f(lea is philbsdpl^^ 
 
 iKi^ii ■ '■' V * ■■'•■ V,. ,-' ,. . . •. . . .■■■ >i[i%mtjiii/ui 
 
 'I i1,j'«I •_, ,', 
 
 !.k t 
 
 ^,/iUl'' •<■ 
 
 
 .''■^it:.. 
 
 mli. 
 
 . i . ' . ii ' 
 
 . 't_y';Ui.i. 
 
PHILGSOPHV OF THK MBMORT.' Ill 
 
 O'i m:- vrfq>»»i'llji<f hit 
 
 '.'■!U lO iiUxh.USUiy 
 
 
 tuirfii 
 
 t;;«f! 
 
 ••? lisitftit •Jilt ''<:f I- '.Wuht 
 :■• *fi.i?>/;'f ;f'j4 vi;fff V-<^U -^') 
 
 ledkfk' or t#(i iiibrii ota Wlk&^rtaH taemi^ by odneeioushebby 
 ' not nic^tibbd in (kr fbm4k 'ObsertttiiOAi^;^ Ooiiftbi^ttsntisd'tlliiitl'/ 
 acti^ difibi«iitty undet'^diffefclnt ciih^umsl&ti;^^:^^ ' Eor examytle', 
 Bott^^Mi ^hen^^^n blb^i ir "fl^eBeiited'to'^the «And by the' 
 I pmi^m^y^v^ b^iiMi iMnlUdiitd^'o^KiwltJ of hAVittg obil^iVe^: 
 ' such object before ; which state of iiihkd:'it;'ft^tieirtly> >piki^isedi 
 by the sight of a <nrcumstance connected with the same thing 
 iti 4 lunilar yi^. - At t>ther times oottsoiottsness acts in ano^er 
 foi«,'*]W^iid«'ir6 become cbnsdotw that we tiOTer saw suoh 
 dr6tttt^taAi^ b^ft^re as are now pir^tited tothe niiitd; ( Abd 
 at ' fttidlh^ ' tiia&e, 0(>tt8Cioilsnes9l 'differs both in '> it» fottii iM 
 diigtb6 of adHbti^ ^iH either of the cither two oas^s, as it seeoM 
 to %iW oteh'^a 'tl^aitiVcl iM>n8i$ld«tti«88y tiz., we are hoi to?)^ 
 .sb^oMir^f hiviB^ iieiEl6 MM^^b^^ ^i<^ 
 
 seiiWd'Wihli^iid. >> Tl^liist 6«ate to Whidi we allude^ leavek 
 tht» fll!i^'ii^ i^^ to^ it ha« t« Walt fez' odrriDtK>rating mr^ 
 cttsfiiiitjati^ed/ «iid tiomi^tSMi With boiuddeiible fM!si«iy too^ but^ 
 il%a^ in proportion to- the an^ount of interest iii thd subject' 
 eoAHiifiiSA "^ith th^Buggestion. Aftd tf it iis a matter of but ^&ty 
 littil^;^of^6iiytei«Bt, itisgene^aUy^lBliktlls^. it 
 
 ^ tS^.''^}- Meci!^[fHimi. There are Mon^exoeptioafe, however/' 
 wh^h w^'.may briefly notice; relatite to the poWe^ ef the mind 
 to ^iiishatie Hiatterti of oompatatively small, or what ihight iip- 
 pe^t^ ti6 mtereet t6 the eM. Sometimes the mem^y apy^Hm 
 td' break tbMugh all restin^t and Wagte wir w<itb««6i>yfadiil(ff 
 of the soul, det^hoiUed; fo» ^t titnle'%eiilg, «d go ki tink'i^\ 
 

 I- 
 
 112 PHII*P9QPHY OF THJiJ l^BMORy. 
 
 sporting itself in ozpaciating and presenting to the mind hosts 
 of circnmstanoes in a confused mass of perplexing opposites, 
 while all the entreaties of the chooting faculty, called the will, 
 are ignored, and its authority utterly disregarded. And this 
 is a state of mind which, I presume every person has experienc- 
 ed, more or less, and to his great annoyance too ; the facts of 
 which can be far better tested than its philosophy can be 
 explained. Yet it does appear guite plain that the soul at such 
 times is labouring under a d^gHb (^f'^cnrangement ; and still, 
 this itself may look rather strange; but that the mind is 
 derangedj'nioreclr 1^, whla^Ve^ tli^^imbHi^ atMlioriiy of 
 the judgment and the will, fail to keep in subordination the rest 
 of the; fmvX^y fff'* my one- of. them, i«i X t^ik, a ^rutli so 
 obyiouB, and sp uniyeinsaUy ^xped^ooed, and ^teb^ ,fK> Jtoably 
 felty that scaroely any opie coulcL be. , found to depy ii •; S(0^ i|iat 
 tl)ovgh,.aa w««beto remarked, the memory is goyem^, % 
 regi^ laws, :thi9.ex(9«ptipn 4oes( not npilit%^ ag^n^j^t^ie ept- 
 istei/ee, (UT; MtHoYil^ of ^^oh Mws. : Beaawsc), derangement defies 
 a^I laws, , mm or Iqiw^ and 4w»]r» l9,|^f«opit»p|>t ti^y^thf^dfgf^ 
 
 i|>.vW«^|i^.iPffo»ndftpiepjig^. io o)*;i,.- ih'nh/ ; jj.^-kI i^ol<io ihi- . 
 
 jS^ B ;; Causf of^U^itata 0/ mM.f The^ are m^ny 
 causes that eon^ibute t(x pcodaoer this a^te qf mind« , .toofn¥tDy 
 to notice here, but one cause may be, repe^ted-ei^ertioas mi,ip^]ed 
 with intense desire, exciteaient) i^n4< resolFes, ,<9 t co^pvelhend 
 a^y^^ubjeot, thut our ambition) pride^jlovp of fiime, or. pr^^^ 
 or whatever ^se, Hiay augg^^qas i]9poirtfipt,:tQ4Mur untniest. 
 Md beipg prompted by, is^Jie^^Ppeiveio be^nft^i^ lvalue of 
 the subject, and ^4fl[tere8t,wMot^«pttl Ma in [ittibwpfy, 
 urge, ai^d drive thej;^i:^^^|>eyopdi 4 re(^;^»«l»le speed) for 
 the soul not opjy lim i^ mHr^,eUm^t§: m wjUch ^ vim^) 
 h^%e^fioit4>nc^f9t'lvi,va4fiof, ntfttioth. A^^ ,to< ;l|5eepi ror; tigrjjtp 
 keep, the,. soul behind its pfitfUralra^ of motijon;j]^ the i^liO- 
 priate channel .in wb^c^ ii:cq^rVe8,,isrto;t;real^i^i!ts,a<^ioi|!|pi 
 proportion to our success, in the attempt to obstruct. ^0 also 
 if) iihe soul is urged beyieind ^, reasiopu^bie di^eo to haeteo '.i^n, 
 t^; effi^t fwiU, be . the, losipg sight of tho^Iaiy o^ relattOPi ithe 
 oi^ly ef^BOtuai s (moi to ile»d to a^ 19?fe .fCpj^cljusiQU,; . t^ei ,jp^cep^ve: 
 f^QUlty la. driven .by tbP !irp» ^d ,pf jpter^s^andrAose iawg 
 v^hioh nature .has desigpc^to, re^^^ajte the^, pep^oiry become 
 violated by the aiitJ^ovij^tind coerfnoa, 9ffth^<,^^.[ And inf»r 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 113 
 
 muoh as the will cannot, for any great length of time, command 
 the memory only in accordance with these laws which govern 
 it, and the same being violated, the memory becomes deranged 
 and remains so until the cause is removed. Much time, labour, 
 perplexity and disgrace will be saved by cultivating a love for 
 truth and virtue, and by allowing the moral law to hold the 
 highest place in our aifeqtions, let this |)e the ruling principle 
 of every young person, wKo may i^ad this little book, when 
 they ^rst commence in life, and to feel that they assume the re- 
 sponsibility of their own aetiotis, to se^k the practice of moral- 
 ity, as a practice the most essential to give correct tone, mutual 
 Control, aiid propei* balance to all ' "th^ iht^Ilebtual faculties. 
 R«ad6r i if you wish to becoihe an independent thitokef, useful 
 ih Society, ahd r^tdly greiit in' futuirie ]ifb,'ehooM ^Mf ct^tBt. 
 
 ^^, 
 
 /Slic. 4 * , -PfevehiaHifiB. '■■' But ire ittay just obsi^rve that; on 
 philosophical principleti;- Vhie piitaeipa! ^eventittive to thii^ state 
 dt miiid is^ esrMul tttiS. cotistant Strbmiilisiott' to the Iitl^' df 
 relalion; Jbr this wiU hoM; ike ittemory in its apfpropriat^ isfiheire, 
 unless oppbsed by* ah undud ^i^oitetaie^it oftll^i>r^0de^ate 
 in.t^leotio'n8t)rodttoed by the ext^^vigoint self-ihter«St which 
 ihiiy ^k>MnbIy b^^ihdtiiged Hende, thcfpiropri^,'aiid n^essity 
 tooj'ofdeHb^ectingOti' every subject of rea>l wdrthj as it (SoVnes 
 uhde'r'^r ni)tiee, and <^ 1c«guf ating 'the" ptissicms and i^eetions 
 in Met^to ttSSisi tiki memory in Icid^pin^ in iti ilatiii^IIf Intend- 
 ed ^aiinel/leBt^by gif&Mi^ i^^&^:indnI^i)r«6»^Ar4idl<^ti«g 
 tli« lfi# bf #6lati6ti it «v«iitiiaUy, (m c<^in SuMeets, Mbnies 
 unminiigeible''and t6 that dtegr^e ixM, that.liid^ainswhi^^ 
 cf^t^dhe «^A^ inHfte^ )He cOtild our^; tind^ven if it eoiiid; as 
 iiis^fd'ofaifeeirtiiin botafni« doctor, spealm^^ (m the scibiide of 
 iftbiiHeilie, saVs : " ftriotinee i^f pi^€^htiifi1^>fe %orth a'poitnd of 
 iMxr^,'* knd the^ veiry samemily bd said of the- irtemory, to speak 
 in" arl^iDftlave smiM; fi:i]^il certiainly is nrttoheasiiir to prevent 
 •dri^aihgemtoiit' ofvthe memory tl^n iiis to feure it And if a 
 pi^^ilt ceiM is takeil, d^ngem^nt ' 'will but s^ldofti if ev^ 
 piqetiffrotaisiichcausi^asmention^ i i^*? ^ ^ -^ 
 
 . liiiil.,:. 
 
 iMU;^ 
 
 
 k ill ho I 
 
114 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 i)n 
 
 
 tH ' 
 
 i/u 
 
 OAUBEa QF T^E P^RANQ^M^NT QF THE MEMOttlT. 
 
 .^ . JSec,l; , Of Aq^ {^ cMiniM^ tHi^etC. NoWy it appears 
 ^ "be mufh easier to ao^iiint A>r tJI^, 4erftngemeii^,of; the ixtimi^ry 
 on t^i;rptt^4 of inteime 4iid grpwiog interest in any tlung, 
 than it is in the ease oi declining interest. For there are per- 
 .hapa]^tfew, if any ati^), who lifve i^ot^^at^tUneflheen |)eq))exed 
 aoud grieved,, a^,j>irov<i4s«(i by iieitera^. pi«^nt«tic^^ pf . past 
 fpEpf^enoe, a%»U8ai^€l iilM)ught8 of a ifui^^ iMai»t^4^,afl[Ld 
 .paiJafnliaa^H^ ,^e p]i^ 
 
 J<^ lijikyik it has no ^fd^ ,aad by i %\)k\^ our, repoAe ^ ni^t is 
 ^fdist^rbed VfivL onr^j^laep .taken jf)cpn^ ua^.af^d feign ironildjwe 
 dismiaa t^eoij ]i)A^;a)l ^or effi)rts ,^1. j J£ no liu^eii e^lanatton 
 oould be g^veni,fil^,tl^aii|ental a^te^ it ijemajina a»{;a,(atand^og 
 proof whittle nind ean beooine. waarieiv^K^ Hs. oim jWWl^es, 
 pj.naiMicM>^of Uaoim«praejl9oa^ lipom-pihyaiiQ^P^ti^thfre 
 ^;a Ifw whiol^ by thje,.i^ pf oiv?iieiaiKs,prgj^ii,japd,.wip]as 
 jqiif^iniKrs; i«t ;i, prDa8pnai4e,d(|gireey afiM a fi^eAA,awPia«^^»s^ 
 j))eaiQjre, bu^,>j!4ftBg wn%i?iod and ^travngant rapetiljiwfljbe 
 ase( pf; tba aaina, aei^^as, (»gan»»i aod laieipDbera, < bepwae sfiii^pflas 
 pf p^ and< WtpaviffiMa; ao alao ,iq Uk«, manner jit ;ia>w^0i ih^ 
 jn^r Eoftli^^^eiiaaw^rwieeftf scienjB»,iba^^re payp^,oft^i|fipi(ds 
 ag^tif^at4pn(W)iipb)B9, ljanga«ge aap Pjipiros^ iMiit Un dwell, on 
 t^ien^ beyond a eertaia )Wtf ithey wtU P^<W$iiQ tiiei^o^l ^e 
 om^te effect IndntePl^t)KQ>*^^i?^ tops firaely^(inj^)y'<^H4¥)(if 
 nnpotionai, no ma^^eri w]m^, t]^ quaUty pf Ihesci i^el^tioi^fl \ jjo^ 
 be, or whether they ^roiin^ wbat^ft^oonuitpnly pa^ tji^, pi^pispnt 
 time, which embraces the immediate moments eonneoted with 
 the present numhent, according to the common meaninff| or use 
 of the term, or whetiier it is in the past, will detract from the 
 subject much of its origini^ beauty; and though, as in the case 
 noticed above, the soul may not be interested in the current ea:« 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOKY 
 
 W 
 
 eroi^es of the memory, yet there may have been a time vrhcn 
 these same ex^cUes wore just what the soul took delight in, 
 an4 by so doing has formed relations and associations which it 
 is now diffioult, and perhaps impossible to dissolve. That is to 
 gay, by indulging in any ^given train of thought, beyond a 
 certain limit prescribed, defined, and established by nature, 
 because it is pleasing to us, proiduces a, reaction in the min4 and 
 eventually suDstitutes a pain for a jpleasure. 
 
 •^dc. 2: 6/ the ^^ 6/ ciartainhnhi^ thmt^h futwf U/e. 
 This can be made plian to any person by reflecting on the law 
 of habit, which w« all ki^>w is a very powerful one in our 
 iai4^tuT«3. For it is an easy^ matter to see the effect of habit upon 
 oi\r physical nature ;: hpw, ,9Pou . a person fiUk . ,aoqu&rQ certain 
 peculiar, and disagreeable nabits of snapping th^ eye,of shaking 
 thcf head, of appetite, such as, eating and drinking certain 
 q^es,t«fc)ugh«\iuriQ\w,^d theTOra^^ «t the 
 
 Uii^e, arei .camIj aoquir^, )>v^ hard t<i br^ i^ Salutg of 
 certain ph^iMwA a^4,i;esjbUfefi^.thoughiixajp^^ ^d>ivp^glaa8»iit^ 
 
 when onoe .ap^pijired^ Moiw a person j^iipiu^. f^ joi^gli&lli^, 
 ,wd 4o!p;n4Q)iiigr»ve^ ; A«i^ iik»;lfiiff,€ii^imk 
 iu\in ibfi nipre JTOtioiMki part9 of the ;pa]^, cq^er^tii^ afi poifer- 
 jfttPj 0^ tfa^ mUj , the jm^sm^t, 9»i the ij^^Bmorj. , f^ on the 
 Mppetite^ the|^ueaons..an({^ttiQ phyai^ The wftp^er 
 
 ^hp.^eed i^r ail,:]i»e mw^ t^^. <^t i^n^ep fe ,fM '<)V> 
 j^vea trpuJitldd apd penned Tiim a trfiin; of x»rqnniM|ta!^oes fiimn 
 ^urpast!e;q)et|«(n9e) teeing il|at. In my^miym^Jitv^ Vve 
 M^ Sf^lify, wehavf a^onirtomod fMi)4|n^^ tfee pepiwry to 
 3]KeU thereon ^ntil it hasracqlijqjod the. h^^ stnmgth 
 
 ^pfiwhieh UMiy i^w at |time8.,re8j»t s4<we9iift|% e^^eiT poorer of 
 ,tlfe|SKwl,, An4 who cannot see fina^a thci^ )|emarlBiL,.ap4 this 
 e^perij^^cCyWhi^is^inoreor less, <^e ,e»>er;\ei^ee of eQ vim, 
 how eminently unpOrtai^t l^at the mind, 4^44 h^e its primer 
 ijVfn \p. :jf(^th f Uow eansful then dieuljd we b«|y ae iMma 
 . |94hers and mothers^ nunkters find teaqhers^ toi , ipufprMi ^^ 
 sim^p yottdi of eye^ land wil^, Jihe inteUeetnal^ jnoraliad 
 ]^e|i»{or^8ibene^t^j^r^^ fhnn an early apptiefttiop.c^ th««(k||itl 
 rto we remembraaee .ef aU those things, a^d those enly^; ^Wt 
 wifl ]t>e servjio^le jTor l^e practijwil purposes of Hik^ Ti» 
 amenntpf precious time t^ is consumed in teaehii^g'jpuig 
 people ceruiin Aovel tales, and rpnulntic stories, an4t&; rules 
 
I 
 
 116 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THK MEMORY. 
 
 of foppish, sickening, and to common sense, a disgusting 
 etiquette, which is unnatural, and as difficult for nine out of 
 every ten to learn, as it has been for the monkey to learn to 
 walk erect ever since heaven's decree was made that upon his 
 "belly should he go," the most of which teaching is worse 
 thap nothing ; if that time were otherwise improved by the 
 same intellects, with the same degree of education, zeal,fervency 
 and perB<3verence, it would in one short generation, bv the 
 blessing of God, which it would be sure to have, be sufficient 
 to cur^ mor^ than lialf ' thei domfestic immorality which now 
 exists in cndt chrbMan land. The effect which feai*. guilt, 
 desilre, ain^ the opeHitio' is of conscience,- either to iregnl^ 6r 
 deranee, produce tipoh 1 le memoi^ is so obvious to every one 
 that iul'the ^hnatibn fhieh !s r^uiricd is simply to ref&t to 
 the'lict,\ V. ,;•'■■:''■'■:. ■ "• ■ ■■*■• :"'■■ .■ V ■■ 
 
 ' ^<^<. .3 ir *. f (y ftodft'fy iwtaknesi'r^^ eaiise. Bttt andther 
 cati^ of th9 'deraiigetiieint of th(i meiaoij' ia physiekl. weakness. 
 F(^ th4Migh;ihe^'b<x^;and tiie iKniI' pin mAdb of diftteriaUi very 
 difieirentrflrom iaph'^oth^r, yet; ISaey are sa intimately tinitea 
 ihi&tlwhen 6&e beM^iekaiMt^' tlie other 19 liilMted a&^ Ife 
 kn6w titat ^cMive bo^/'^eHhm will produce )phys$eal '^^- 
 lijbs^; which It^etOtnelsk, When 'it artfiei^ iiq k oettain sta^, 
 pHidtiGes paralyi^iig efl%^ whieh become visible bn the ihiMd. 
 Ferve^ on the lirai^^ m i^ ih^jf»idnt 4ta^. doee not apjM^ to 
 «ffi»tt1piynd;y6t, if ^i£^ allowed to lioldits H6«t it vrill liot 
 be long be^ v&kn[it ii^fl^miiisott infL fb1I(]»#,'-ihd d^^ 
 iaent ijlf tbe'ttemit^ i^tt(§dik4ielV*sao^ SdbidfiiiiesDibdUy 
 difMMMO Inll'aifeot '6i&e jmrtMliir ofgk^, and in ptopoi^on 
 th^riSt^!W]^ affeot ito cOH^spohdfngiHecilty, arid ihtis it is' that 
 l^e ^«notjr gom^tfii^ refiideis to adt^Ven^t th^i tequesti Of tile 
 «iffl, While at 6^l^Vaheii li afHls vigoirOusIy bri topiois iit which 
 t}|j»^til'ti&<^ Mmtiumi ]^6#; the etius^'of bodily dis^ajse is 
 ^ifil^ue^ly th^t'df lnt^]|)eir(it^K^^ 
 6AtiJffg, at&Jcihg,^*M e*c^ve -ea^ 
 ^ wMf they h«3 4'gbOd^Tneteory,''' shoiild bo* dirfeftd not to 
 Hd^dw obstaOl<^ in Ae Way bf if*i impwVomiStit; by itldu^% 
 i)^)he ijcibrdlii^' udo of ajipetite; anid' ihe^y ii^u<^ settM 
 dyspepaiij whicH^hbc done in a ^w'yeai^bh id6fit constitu- 
 tiOiiB, by lbllo\^ih|^ tile poj^ttlar habits of Oanddiansjn middling 
 citoumiBtanoes, while a life timO of snbsequetit rcgrfet will not 
 

 ICii- 
 
 PfllliOSOPHir OF TH£i MBMOitY. 117 
 
 mako snffioiont atonement to wipe away y» effects on the body 
 and mind. When the natural tone of the stomach becomes 
 changed by long abusg of the laws of nature, and the digesti'^e 
 apparatus fails to do its naturally alotted work, the nerve j 
 system becomes materially affected, and inasmuch as this is th 
 organ of the mind, and the onlv one upon which it can direci 
 operate, if it becomes paralysed, the mind must be proportici 
 ately affected, and the memoiy will be more or less deranged. 
 
 We are not apt to think, nor willing to belieye, that prac- 
 tices so general am9ng ^1) classeii^ of ^he pompmnity, embracing 
 every degree of wealuij literature, ana religion', are fraught 
 with such baneful, paralyzing, and malignant consequences, as 
 in a^er life ihey pr«v« ihemselvte to be. (What harm ean 
 tlvert. be in a kind fUid affsotionate paffent^ to please an^ gvatiQr 
 the little prattling oh)ldreiif in <i^)eiidiog at f<># . oop|ibri)>«v a 
 york shilling, naW nA thcii^ lor Jmll's-egres atud oioer/SMrMU 
 iioats. Or what harm in divngrfiihe tttUeehtld'at KoViiifter 
 
 or « bisomt, «r 4 pie^of bittad Hid liiBttercrjm a liUkf iPi^ur 
 spread <Ott, or molafl8ea,'jor beiBe Yiirgr/ rieh jrcMfh^ altd^ao oa 
 ■eiw/al times throng the < da^ f* ! Wka* VBSWirr nrndiA we 
 naAurally «xpeoi from inteHigeni people i» 't|ie> i)%<)ifiiig 
 question : What harm woidd itlM, -not iowjM heaAlwili; and 
 idiots, but to iiiitcJIageiii chrintian 'parenti, to'rleanii theiv 
 ohil^ten to <iig ^eir graves wiih iheir teeth, atod lh%4il moijiiii 
 thnr nuttmeljr death I : We ^all not amswior, tl^e <|uestioii, Vttft 
 
 + ..»" 
 
 .* ; 
 
 '• oWf^r?f>: 
 
 .ti* 
 
 ■.liiO 
 
 
I il 
 
 h 
 
 11& PmLOSOPflY OF THfi MEMO AK^ 
 
 .. .m'. ., f ;:,> too)?! '»rft 'hi '-(io* ^'^f^'U^- 
 
 
 ■ ! I 
 
 
 ■ : "♦ .' 
 
 ^CH^TBK XIII. 
 
 nv 
 
 
 '*«'^!*^/^^^?^'^;"'' 
 
 
 r-1r 
 
 ^rr.f* 
 
 :^f<-.i 
 
 CvA ne Jperc^fei & honeirtity? haA bisn! wtkn itekeo. If wn^ 
 oaMiQ^^ H i*'i»id that Mr we |k> rperottye'tHo pi»t, lAie$e Mnt0/ 
 irftkAfiwe berMf e, ^' mvsittkisi TeilM hi tlie fbnn tiMf iaailter 
 
 mKrikhidH sDfl&dliifleir >i& !tk« ^i To whM m> i#ottld 
 
 to^^teiMlMr touM!l^;¥iid M> ilo lAadiiber'kotkii^. 1 But 
 
 iioti dNfilitat ^liKve fldetil^roiid&i^ ^psbd Atr'6tli«r lbi«» 
 
 «»>vmite'tt Mer !6m^ it vfiMy penwim 'iiteniin' tauxS^Mi-' 
 
 ealloTigiiiai ide«i. And !ttiunriMllif«B to roHiraK^ t» 
 perddve thttt wMoh has been iiiider the mind's ob^rvation 
 Defore, it is not a wmmtily fat which we oontbnd, but some- 
 thine that exists In the past and always wUl. And as nothing 
 01^ be made in the past that has not been once made in the 
 TOesent, ^e must perceive what has 5een, or nothing at aU. 
 For example, I haye.read ' JTtW* Mstdty of FalesHney is a 
 trae eiroomstanoe which exists in the bosom of past time, not 
 In the present, nor in theftiture, and nowhere only in the past, 
 and if it is not in the past the &ot is annihilated and does not 
 exist at all. Now, it cannot be annihilated, because, irt« a 
 fad. and it will.be just as true a billion years hence that I did 
 read Kkto*9 HiMtofjf of Palettine as it is now, or as it in& the 
 very year^ or month in the year, in wbich I i:pad it 
 
 ■aMHMMiiU^ 
 
raiLOSOPHY OF THB MBMOBY. 
 
 119 
 
 JSect 1 2 ; ' Wk beccnne OMMeiouf </ eertotn;. \/iiett. Now 
 suppose a certain person to have been itf ooukliaQj with ne all 
 the while I'Was reaoing this history, and saw, and heard ine read 
 it^ he would of oourse see a real ciroumstanoe, for he woald per- 
 oeiye iht aet of reading, and the act of readin^so as to be heard 
 in company, requires not onW the physical motion of the muscles 
 of the eye, but an additional motion of the organs of speech. 
 Here are physioal motions that are made in the reading of that 
 history, which were made in time that was then pretmUtimey 
 and the perception of those motions was made b^ m indi^dnal 
 ;^t the same time, which respired an ad of the nnnd ftom him as 
 well as from the leadeiv so that there were two kiiids of moitions, 
 t^ onOfiiien^ andthe other phpicaL Now, the fuestido wlaeb, 
 netnains it ikit : P« those motions of the beck and oiittd itiU 
 ^id4ty Of eilihet of them2 . . W« answer, thai both exist it cireum* 
 stances, real &otSy as much iaathef ewt ^dyhutaotaiiHnftionfly 
 heoaaipe they do nqt exist in • the present. .tiaie,i aod canndi, hny, 
 iliore than, they ean a thousand :^eani befooa' they took phwe., 
 We mighi^ask.then, OB whaif^n^yie caiir thepaat^wseenaiattf 
 We answer, ontb^ iame: prininpIfS whioh we pMoeive tbefies^t^ 
 2^ ii(»:0thfit. !Che present is perceived heoaissiw^^iii^iBthet. 
 present time, we eaimot tafcoi this preaeht ii|to the Ibtee, finr 
 <(Veiy,jparti^leiOf time (daina ita dw^'plao^ 4uid its«wB«rentB. 
 I^in regard ip^ pa8t,$Wjaoa9inotbriiigliie past lAt^^ 
 anymore than-lre can tiske ilia present into ths^fhtna^ and we 
 <taik 01^ peineiTe the pi(st on:lhft pRn<»pie>ilrhMl» wdipfe aiieidy 
 <)Bd0a!?oiid /!» exj^lam> hefboB^ Ihat^ ml }n Ihiatimhiitibii ef tii» 
 ipodptlyei&oujiiy inta pail tike. We humhlly «meehretliat, 
 liot wait we would presume to speirokrtebn theiDinnaeMeMe, «y 
 attelap^td pry into the mysteries of his natur^ithe prindnkof • 
 Omniiwteiit^, or knowing all thingi^ on the parteithe jUm^h^ 
 Maker of tile universe iftbased lipon the eoctent df; his iodstMce^ 
 tjiatii»tp say, Cfod'knoWsall that is in the n^esentbioamelite 
 petfvadi«9 all present dme, and all that is intiiepastbeetuaehe 
 pervades aUj^t time^ and he knowB all that is in thefutwie 
 l^ecBuseih^ eziito in all futiii^ time equally the same. Man's; 
 l^owledge of the pesent dqwnds upon various cireumstancea ixk. 
 <K«nection with the activity and strength of his ndnd, and his, 
 knowledge of the past depends upon the adaption of his 
 perception to extend into the past in connection with the hanno-. 
 nious working of consciousness in its different foraw. « ■ - 
 
120 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 vf >jgec. 3 .'^ ^JUmtratfi&» of t^e above pnneipiei To illustrate, 
 
 liat ii« snpposfi' t)iwt< tliQ civomnstance to be reinembered iis a 
 
 flomeihiiig thdi we 'ha!\re heard. ' Now, that something, Ih 
 
 propor^n to its extent, eonaistB in sounds, more or less/ as th^ 
 
 case may be. These sounds are : ' {Produced, and tolerably WeH 
 
 Aooounted tfbr, on nsttixal principkA, viz. : by an adaptation ^ 
 
 4}Mptai^ portions of oicr physical constitution to the Surrounding 
 
 ^tnioi^heveyriiits) i If elatidn to electrieity, and ooiineetion with 
 
 imnfateriality^ > ' . BuV though - eleotrieity, atmosphere, mind; 
 
 nwfbiiiiiUaBiye^ andi musele, > whose< combined aetion produeed 
 
 ^halJsonndj in ithe fikisipbuse^ all exist at the present mom^nltj 
 
 yet;>it oannoibe'siadj witkaRJr' dep;kiee of mobability, ih«tH^ 
 
 ^Qv^dsihaive? 8^ o(niti«it|)oxary extiscsnoe^ itid ^tlkt the^^^^^ 
 
 Uiat Mhesfardatwel'vef. miohtliLB^agOt «Kistft ^at^'the ^s«»le iime with 
 
 thttiMRMui tift'.h^>it;tJii9 present atbmei^. .!i For^iniistuu^h^iis 
 
 .th8>iiHMiiii iNMLMn^im '^to e:^t' lonlyl >beea«8(e^ %^j w^ie sfieh, 
 
 and ihfl^ tprlnHd, till ite iianek jSy u^tensiblfii impresiictn, 'it foiiows 
 
 a8»iifaiMM^r^^ic<Minle^ ihatmai«ne obuidilie eeitain c^thdt 
 
 6iiiten8ed^od^«i%»tv» tbe) it^W- s^iioQ: impresiiiim, iiii4^ iSsx^ 
 
 ymjKsmiKikik arimtebf uidrtntifieA jijthi ^litt> jfirsi^ impresstton^ vai^ 
 
 fldioai o^ovghisJiSM^ Igjki^'-o^ siihBei^M^ttFfe; !Wiithkl-ire 
 
 fi(foipeiMKltofbbiQip6sfibW^iq Hii niililre.c!^ tilings }. for a soufld 
 
 mlise auKia>aiid liAir(]boaii|i<»t'/bef- heavd again^ i It is veftytrue 
 
 thatiWpMiiigfiheir a iil&i|iirione^i4tnd tfaatEiay profluoe mniihiir 
 
 iiBpifiiB^«i)}fant[!thfiiifiloQ»^not[ makei It i to be the «kme scmiid; 
 
 ^lip^r^?i«||fclWl^^ltwito?>^iotite|aftiafti^^ 
 
 4Mti1»t(l»iidwttiiiid \yStjii 1iiei£]^t^;a(iia:iciip:.ontsr b»'niad#^ 
 
 ligiteuiiAthjitii yliloiiif th^ sottndiJ2dVrji>7».ens^>tmnst f^wi^ 
 
 bejMaoMUiig^ifiQiJihi^tais nothing eilset'to exist in it so^nlt Imt 
 
 AMi^iiin^; ^^ JLnd thet¥eryis4mext»t]^i» of^QTeryrinotibi^iefltte 
 
 Mij^itttid olrttia mi^iand o£«keiy.jrtoUen in and tliiii»igh al) 
 
 ^ad!6ti^]liiiAdiiiiuain(lferi«aity, ;bo^ and in eteraii^. 
 
 M vuukmkfrBSsaka a;iiiiQlioi[k with hia hand^ fant. he n0v^ eatt 
 
 m^dfiAitiikaif sanifeitar^ni again, he may make a similar one^ but 
 
 thAtr>if!ti|fei^ diii^enlt from Uie same one. For that same 
 
 fiftotiUh c^nnct etist ai^ ^ motion ^wifAou^ movinffii and then^ore 
 
 that>motianiivhich- iwafi made yefsteprday cannot exist t^day^ai 
 
 a mDtM>nv a^ all there is left i» theilruth^ £Eict, certainty, thtit 
 
 such a motion, existed oT) (took pkc<i yesterdky, and we b&Tc 
 
 to perceive back to yesterday to be made sensible of that sam^ 
 
 fact. ■'■1. : " 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 121 
 
 Sec. 4 ; The same motion cannot he made twice. There is 
 a> very striking analogy between physical and mental motion. 
 And the act of thinking is purely an intellectual motion, which 
 can be done either in connection with matter, or disconnected 
 therefrom. And to remember as wc have said is to think, and 
 to think is to be the subject of intellectual motion, and should 
 we a4iuit the possibility oOnt^ll^ctual mption, under some cir- 
 cumstances without iJliiiRing -il ratlcnai thought, even that 
 itself would not by any means alter or do away with the 
 fact &a^ lib beiiig ' M- thiiA; 'WlM; intdlieetual uMbn. 
 And I submit to the judgment of any well informed 
 mind, wio i^^ wot original ^indcei^' ' ^hiotOMP ^ >^hat imoiton 
 ' whiab: as^madfii^ hj the^ inte&eot ifei= -tbtipero^^oB >of<^y- 
 pftiik^H&teaaaistancii^i mUl ^veir' b« midk ii^gi^^ ei^Mir -hj that 
 siMok intotlebi;,: or by'«aiy^otliery -eithev Is titee - m^^kma^ 
 elcirfaiW. L Afldi to sii^ tiiait '■ HtkBA mdtioti' (iikmi^b^ «adite> is 40 
 
 pi^»d^ 'B«Bai(tt»'tfi;hat thougli|r:«^^ «iiM^- 
 
 attd'iiidi^aiitiAilr motion bicit< the satne imtixm^atAWihid etM 
 iBodeii'«btisli^ii enstis wheto <it "ftrei lidok^ plao» la^ tiM inin«l; or 
 ill' «lh^ W#fdt)j' ' ^ w the i aotioik of H^ mAw^ itk ^Sn&puikp^a 
 of >ftiit thing; kitd ? only one peroqitioQBi onri poMdibly'tttkdpkki^ 
 ia tiio minid ii' the "saiii^ time; «nd ihk^tkdn^ia being t^fiefteiit 
 pfiir«ib|itioti «f Uhe ttiiitd, iind ikiudt be » pdr«»eiit fereepHraf, if ii 
 is jt jMre^oii'^t afl, prevontii any >othttf perce^on^cbfiBg'ilib 
 actutf iSetiertbn'eef of > saiil0^pero^oi&> ' (motiM.) 'W^may ^kiiiee 
 similar peroeptidiM; and tl»s is how we thtok^ ancl tMvii» Jl6w 
 wo ip^emlM^. <i]Mi[)y ^<exii^tefeiee of^oM pereeftiolirj-lmt^' 
 *M'' etfeation of n^ mtesl For We never eotdd'kn^w -4kat im 
 &^i iMida petcepdonUttless weasofdld penieitO'>ag;aiii. '^ ih«l^ 
 tO'^rdeive th^^ast istop6ir0eive'O|gain,';a^^ ro-conseieusWd' 
 I^epivecl before not ' the same pexiteptidnxiiv^utilk we now ^have,- 
 bti>tf;a; similar one iHiioh led to^miiarcdiMiiiBions'And' bj^^Mi^ 
 we ndi$ir perceive th(e same fact. ' We sliaU ^mako' tfodie^i'llier 
 remarks ^m nioibioxi attd the laws thereof^ but retsoffve^i^eiii fot 
 anoth0r^aoe in reply to the^ infidel theerycthat'^'aU <lh«!iigklb 
 either mttteri&l or immaterial," and they will be fbuiid^ii4eF 
 itaiiofi aSallthmgl^ imiilet4iil or im^itei^iaij te iwhieh we t^er 
 
 i ! 
 
I 
 
 mi 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 ^'j/w- .;i- 
 
 ;.«>fj>-iii;W.r- 
 
 .i ,fiii\'. 
 
 i'-mH 
 
 yh 
 
 n-i 
 
 
 .n.i>!sAf»ii( 
 
 diipTBB:''ici^: 
 
 ij/ofili.. 
 
 ,'f;T^,Uimmi^91f ¥m^^ AmX^^owoL A?™^?^. 
 
 i;-'' 
 
 ]|Qi^#i«r iliQf to no^ite^atfliBast) lo eipUan, ihi6 Yarioss c^inidns 
 tEatmeli lutffd forn«d rel«twe to <be pria«ipl»Diiivhiflb <^4ifliN^ 
 eni oroaliwres of Oed z!eBt«imber l&e .patt^^W bImiB ipn^^ 
 onot toigv?^ $im o«n » Qpinkm, lYiliioli ilst m$ , siflPioiy .» idyM 
 
 J^:«i iyit<MpQfd^»^ ito1ii«oi|)lM»UoAirl^^ given 
 
 b)9^ nif$PMto woeii^e iHtliajetinsobiiiiii^of liiv^ygyQiMT^ 
 efl; t^, «aM9 M(»Oi |il feUots r<h»t .every iop^t^ift t&i^ioof 
 r^a(i9^a|i«ii jmuftt jiaiw» to sajr the leait, thote iotcilleoliiiilekii^tii 
 of p«i«9p1i»>|i,iiiul ooQseiQusiieM whiek are eaaeiitiiil toifliQll8ti4«te 
 the ps0!jBep8 of ^nrnpib^riag. And iJi afqpears tiM liU iN»iiii^ 
 tlieique^li aftweil aa^he; higbeafc have, p<xirer t6rwii9ifte« 
 'f^h9.^(^oweiljb U$ owner and the aft !bis,.nuwrtor^B>«i»b/' 
 liiit j0 toJiM.y ;«tba0E remembers: hi« ow«er, it p^roeinicb JiIh» to ; 
 l]g9 tji^eBangfo psi»ov.ikA% he is and not another Dine^ apdilKfM 
 of>|u9oiou»^Miieen Mm; ^'for the oz«Iinpwetih:hiflioi|nei^ ^.!! 
 if,^ m^ntifw., iihif» to pro^e % exbtonee ef ..DMinorf Jft Uiu» 
 l^wier^u^imaili ^m-^^ h^^ieet authmtgr, tibat 4a, ixim Ihe 
 Creator himself. . Bntmmay say the sameof tlKehoir99# ^e 
 dog, the «le|ihaiit» the b^i the ant and the spider, iritfi i^wd 
 certainty^ ^ las m obeervatidn and teaaon ivUl determine ^i yet 
 wQ.lthiiJ^it not nefsftssary to dwell on theae points aa t|iey are 
 tooiob^us to/^iiiva Explanation ; opkly we woi^d'obaarv0^at 
 ^hali^ h^^e sa«ii(^4wae whinh we have named we design as 
 sk fll^fmtim Off tl^0 whola animal df^^joik^^ that wlu^er we 
 spea]^ of the elephant that traveraea the fiirest^ the ox thikt JMfl 
 at the stall, the dog that watohea at hia kenne), the, bird thai 
 flies in the air. the ant that provides his food in ^e sonuner, or 
 the worm that crawls beneath oar feet all giye evident marks 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MfiMOBY. 
 
 1^8 
 
 of meitfoxy the same in kind, though not im d/n^ree, ^ There is 
 an evident differenee in the sunie speeies of anunals in regard 
 to thd strength of theii a>f ioor^jr. and whitoh appiears to be naitoral. 
 Take.the hone tbit an ^stonple^ and but Sew persona Oan be fonnd, 
 who hftve beien in the habit of using these animus foit <^ telnn <Kf 
 yeanS) that hate not' disoovend n^ miirked diffsrene^ in the 
 strength of their niemories. If then there is such ^sensible 
 diffinrenoe in. tbesame^ species of animals, no wonder ithai there 
 8h<)uld be a diffnenoe between the different species themsdyes. 
 NoWj a« -^^ehay^ already obseonred that : to rememb^ is to per- 
 oeiv»^ so we Wonld now isemark'that tO;piBreeive.is.to <AMtA>, 
 therejfove all ;ei^nresieapab)# of remenfWing, aie endowed 
 wilAi Ib^liinhiiig pviii«iple.i 4^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 what f It has been freqipnn% obserred-^ hf PfWWMI Who }me 
 not been baekward to make their thou^ts known to others, 
 j^jif)4hie hmit aninals ||o.endow!ed wtwra Mj|ing pi^indple 
 ijbini|ffli(l»ofl»n lienor kindrtO'tlM^t^f the hn^^ mii^y,^ To 
 tih)s4i^tiiB)iriil^oaiiiM9tl9(lismrihei^ 
 
 mij^' be i sAid that if ' the Jf^iirer anwalfi «re ei^on^ wiUi 
 memiitf , ^ nnst be of^ • diilsieQt land, that 10, it vmf* be 
 tm^ ^ .of diffppen^ MMiDi Ji r whiehjstiUpoBition, wo^d 
 aiMMmt t<} ;tJMS*^ Ihfkt the IMSnarr of. th6 lower ianunnlft is 
 ei|lih0f;i]n)ide^i(|li><» nffittef,^Qr c^;0meihxn|( thitt^is n^&ti^tiw 
 nor:|gMif^beolt^8e) ijbeniet^^ mdb 
 
 uj^ef ^nd, 8(»neti4ng ^ iia 'the^ ia<m tW Is Impiftterul aota m 
 Imor! Iq . prtf^iiee ; ^rem^iiihrane^^ ; s^ if! the niemory of the 
 ]4w«Riafiiina}s;i»^«^diff»«tokt^ l^uaiij^^tMn w^ isthi&ll be foroed to 
 
 .:i; 0'. 
 
 :yf\:, 
 
 n^« 3 ; T^hy d^not^nm'Mmk!'^^ which the^ 
 
 ftf^in thehfiieif amme^'t Qfhose;,^hoikre nnwiUingto admit 
 the Idi^tity of the tMnkSng jj^rtnwple tell usi that t]^ lower 
 ai)|iniiilsrepieinbeEby:^SfMti9tfo^" fTo'say;that ^e^ reiap^njd^ 
 bii; instinet is theisaineas tosay t^y think by ins^i^^iM^ 
 maM Wis adopt ibis ^annetii^spea^ng i^ mtuld of^^pres^nib 
 thot^fiHn^ prinei]^ by another name ^ but the use jM |/^#^ 
 pamm^^f^ to^makn of IVts to Ireiaresent a differenj^^tuji^ 9f 
 ihiniitig g|{neiple^oji& wftt whifih is. op^atiye inismpi^; n^i^iMil 
 beingsv w^ have jio doubt buiitfroiud afford a gm^ degDeo of 
 
I 
 
 
 124 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 datasfinotion to tbousatods of others, «8 well iw to us^ <fbr thorn p^^ 
 sons who are cftpable of diseeming the diflSsrenoe b<9tweeti inetinet 
 whioh thinks and mind which tMnks, to explain and makd the 
 matter simple eiiov^h to be understood. Biit uiiless w» eim 
 obtltin this infbn&ation we must get along as well aS'W^GAn, 
 in our igAoranee of ihis problem, andtry and Beoontent to 
 take our own rotindabdut wiy and so approximate a» near as* We 
 can to an understanding of the nature cjP this itiw^etl or as some 
 have called it ''instihbtiT^ menkbry*'^ Inasmuch ihen ki it) hits 
 be0ti a prevailing opinion heretofore, and still is, that the lower 
 anini^s are, tb nsei the pojinliir pbrajne; ^'mereVf weaAuiM'of 
 iftititiet^j" Mid aA'tl^ phrase dder Aot appeav ^' be^pfriy^ 
 understood by many, and according to' oiatrfCotioepfltoiM^ mI/Ib 
 misapplied by others, we think it not improper, in connection 
 iHth the identity 6f tk^ l^eniory>^to Qfltt^^^tt^btio^'to tHi dliibus- 
 siod of'fiiis 8ttl)j^«Jbr>»frwkot)iMMit8^^^^^^ ti ^ ^'i <t:il ?l \ .vi>As 
 
 to our'eotitie^dti^bf ^<}i«(^' it meiti9'»riia«i»d[> eii^oW^Mfii^ 
 ftnd b T ihh W6 meiin 'dOiUediiti^ wldeh ' iSke Almi^y< hMs i^ 
 Imrted toi hiff creatures aiiid adsoftiiited^iih eftUi^r their'^hji^Mil 
 or jinental nattiir^. « Adjs^tting ^Ib to Blft» a'^rtleet «ipo«moti'i90 
 ftr, ' wd AM Itt th6' next phtoti Iky Uvderstgalli^e natinie o^^Jb 
 end^]fW«^t; ah^ iti oifdel; td 1^ vk stiatt prMMed to (OUtftdm 
 Wbelfter ' fhi» ebd<i#meA[i,; eatied >i)itff$^)< aiidiby'^>whioh'^e 
 loiWer ainiMali are i^id to thinkvftnd tem«Jbiberj >t» initeiM or 
 hnmateriAli Now, it i;ktfsib« mtoeibbefed th4t spint'stidiinttM^r 
 comprehend the enlire uniterse of €^.; '•■ Or all #1 eveAttf > we 
 oaii form Ho idea of any tllt^ esstiii^ an^ whcnraij eidier'/in 
 heaven, earth, or hell that does not consist of otf#of thesepri>- 
 perties or both of theni together. And what we state here as 
 our own opinion we^ieve' to be general, i^ not univefiuil, 
 among th&t class of miitikind wlio have any opinion'al ' a!^4)n 
 the subject. ' The character arndtpoi^itioift 'tls»i8(»ie iilti4biite io 
 eleeirieity, a» occnp^iiaig in -ihe universe ai^am^to be that i^ a 
 mediiuil' stflie between matter and mind. It is E(a&} ihab t|i4 
 neai^iWeitppi^oaioh td el^ebi<iity the nearer we are tcFiii^dii, 
 suehaB to Widsk ltimpi(^ lead any ^Veni slid lit <ip^tiii^ 
 0ei;!felitt Ibree to thotrc' it, wSifiio a liimp of ^ wood ' tjiie 8«iie>'flfeid 
 kquit^ ih«Mh lesd p^wer, bd^g isottlh^ t^emr^kfi^i^iiliy it 
 Ih^'Wood, thiui at ihel^j bat'i^ w^fake a body df wtttei^^f 
 
PHIIiOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 12« 
 
 ihe same dim^nsioDS, it oau be moved much e^ier than the 
 wood ; whereas atmosphejcic air is moved with miuoh more ease 
 still, and gas of the same proportionate bulk would require a 
 power so spu^U, to produce motion, that when compared with 
 the power required to move the lead, it would be SQarQely per^ 
 ceiyed at all ; this is explained on the principle of being so much- 
 nearer electricity at the gas than we are at the le^d. Now, we 
 do Qot^find faulSt with the above theory, in sil) far as we have 
 traced it, but we eanhot subocribe to the inference that is drawn 
 therefrom by its advocates : ihat "rho motion can txiit vaitluyHt 
 e^c<ncify<" Becaii^se, if it is true that no.^otion can be pro- 
 dt^ced withput the primary action of elee^icity, mortion. \w. tho^ 
 ammai ^stem would stimd thus; bone,: m^sole.^ .nerve, mind 
 ehct^liaityj thi^ would; mak() electricity the stimulating power, 
 and so mind would receive its stiniul^t fromi m^t^ter; whereaa 
 we^pppse matter )^€ceiveBlt£f;S)t^muie;Dt fr^mmmd. ll^^oani 
 not ocmceive how it is po^ibl^ for^ motiqn \iao exist ftuyiifhertii 
 wii^oui ; rw^ivipg ifef ' ftrst impn):^ fx<m ' i wo^i, neitiier can 
 if^ ooiU)eiT<) it no9^1e,foC;PD^i]i<| .t9 de^en^i^I^ ^^4^f^>Je?«a 
 in iiiito !moi9t,:re(lne«| ^qiidili^,; :pf fleqtr^^ J^ts, qwq 
 
 endowmtni^ of rwl^ol* wie Pp^^^^jah^vi^ ^nd^% 
 
 ^»? I Matter, H !ia tnj^w^yjb^ wpJweidi,wi]tb,%tiM^)w»gi|w»i^ 
 pie, hpi ipaatfieir^finotK il^ 9ny , ]^r« ^n ft iQaO; mpvi^. , imiiS 
 or #pp it» motion. J^^ in^smncii ; as tjhje ' , lower, aiuinak do 
 leinemb^, which it is pnpoBs^v/tp.dp iv^1^i|t tJl^in^^gyani 
 as BO f^ing can ihtnk*.witb«i|ifa mind, i|i fcAl^w^a^ ii lBgltip(if);^ 
 o^NQ^usipp ;thffc!t the lower aninials are eQ>4otfi^ ifiitii mi^^* To 
 mj^}m,% the lower aaimftlsii might b^ m^f. ;toJluiik> witl^i^l^ * 
 mm^t I in^.y without m immatieriflityi l^ijui^.V^. things , ptni 
 posmble with: Qo4,V is to si^yj.iioilJUing ^to ^Uio. |)ohit^Qder 
 eonei^eratioQv For fliktm^ m thiii^ ,^ j^pssible with 004 
 yiet^j^iJM'ejf>nly so ipj « oons^tent aDcdj^^oniLsiQiii^i,' Tfa» 
 Y^,§me miMm%Jf tjeUp;i9 fh^ "M i8j|inp9^b|o jfoir iQodi ^ 
 %;.^ ;fiftd also <M bo;oit4^BO<: 4^t^ MnJWii? -. Xhepjestorei ai^ pew 
 son who can dispose of the case uador iconsia^^tion by jMiyii^ 
 that "all things are possible with (jlod," shows not only that he 
 

 I 
 
 
 
 126 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 has a very easy uTay of reconciling opposites and inoonsistenoies, 
 but that he is a mere stickler for a point, which the very nature 
 of his quibble goes to prove, and which the nature of the case 
 shows he oannot fully believe. The ^eal of a man, which is not 
 aooording to knowledge, might lead him to suppose that he con- 
 fers great honor upon God by ignoring the great philosophical 
 principle alluded to, and substituting for that the " all tJiings 
 are possible to ?^m," but the very opposite of this will prove to 
 be the truth in this, and all oases of a similar kind when it goes 
 to sho^, as this does, that it is possible for God to do that which 
 involves a contradiction. What others may think possible to 
 be done I shall not now stop to c|etennine, but, I find it equally 
 as impossible fbr roe to believe that this paper on "which I am 
 now writing, or the p^n which I hold in my hand can think, or 
 can ev^r be made to think ; as it is for me to believe it is pcMsi- 
 ble for the same thiii^ to be and not to be at the same lime. 
 Should this peil with which J. now write these lines be mttde to 
 possess a ik>wet to think and ikioVe, s6' that it W^uld hidef itMlf 
 find la^ id6iHj)ealedMand unperceivedby me irhea I i^uired it 
 fbr iny use, what might be said df the ^ f To use a familiar 
 phrase we would say tihat the pen thinlu and reasons, and itonld 
 answer very well as a common n^ode of expression on all ordinary 
 o^diiait^ttiih;. b\it |)hiloso|>Motdly »beakiiig it wi^ld'iiot be'colti^, 
 for ib s«6h oaite the peA wiotill be endowed With ^ thiiAdi^ 
 |>rita<ji^e. ^ P<ff ih tliu eai»«ttottiethittg^mt»iliav« be^h iddKd'to 
 the pen HfBik ithiid iiot be^,^ iknd 8<mi^>tlikig tod of aii vfMiipid^ 
 difl^dtat Ws^^' flnofk iHiit of the p^n^ ilielf, and thin ^dni^hing 
 any ' ^rxe eah' okU 'by what tttoie %& j)y«ed, it makieJi) nor ttfkttbr 
 td me, httithe ndtutedf it ^ mind. Bui a 6ai^ of this! Hnd, 
 as in the motion of the pen yould, itt aH probabiiity, be 'oalted 
 an iniHfuetiv&motidiif dr it WoUM be said that the peti Was 
 merel^' a oreaVore of iieiHnce. And wh<it thii instinot is abetat 
 Which we ha^ heiurd and rekd iso ma<^ Wd cannot t^ll unl^it 
 ia another name fbr mitid. If that be the ease we wdtdd not 
 ditptitefiMr & moment bboit mere words, for if a peraon chboses 
 to^ ipffy the term mind to tlie immaterial part oif man aiid 
 thiilk that the t^inn instinct is more ampro|^natd to the immaterial 
 f)4ri of th^lowiir animals; we shall oJ^ i^ ol^eetioii, Mverthd^ 
 rass, we do M td^mdmbei^ thiift usihgd^e^nft terms will nevi^ 
 aHet the ireii Satire of things. 
 
 '■fV 
 
 -r, 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 127 
 
 tt 'ttdvertli^ 
 
 See. 6 .* VTF% men eall the hwer animah merely cteatwree 
 of instinct We purpose now to enquire after what it is that 
 has led men to call the lower animals ''merely creatures of 
 instinct;" but before we proceed to this, we will first enauire 
 after the popular definition of the term instinct. Now, we nave 
 already shown that what men coll instinct is a something added 
 to matter by the all wise Creator ; and this something must 
 differ from matter in its naturu because it produoes voluntary 
 motion. And would also remark that it is not our intention to 
 deny that the lower animals are creatures of instinct, this we 
 admit, and so also are the higher orders, viz., human beings ; 
 bat that «11 the movements of the lower animals are purely 
 instinctive movements, according to the general received opinion 
 of the meaning of the term, we do deny. 
 
 Sec. 1 : The 'popvXcw d^nition of instinet, Mr. Walkw*! 
 definition of instinct, I must say with all deferenoe to hull as a 
 highly educated man^ and popular linguist, appears to mo as 
 oontradietoiy, as the old Calvmistio explanadoQs of free gvctce. 
 I cannot conceive what philosophy, or oomnvpD sense, tlieie is 
 in the following definition ; ^^Instincty the power which deter- 
 mives the' will m Ibrutes^" "a desire or aveniiop in the mind not 
 deisimined bv reaaon or deliberatioa." The question that 
 win:dd' naturaUy aritvin the enquiring mind it : What is the 
 wtU'^toA is thuff determined by this powdr oaUed instinol ? The 
 wiUj'says 1^e8aiiaieaiillu)r,^%chtiice, arbitrarjjr deieniunati<Mk.'^ 
 Now^ ^oomtnon sense meaning of the mlHs a power of yotttkm 
 OF ohoioe whidi th^ <jreati!kre has in itself. How then enik the 
 idea of 'win, whidii if itidoeA not mean a power ofebsAoe it means 
 nothing, f)e reconciled with the idea of a power which determines 
 and conlarols that choiee, viz., a power toohopse in itself ? For 
 aoeokUng to this etposition itibllows that either the lower 
 animals have no will, or if they have it must be that power 
 whidi determines the preference and which is called by the name 
 of instinct. Now ' C Uiere is a power in any creature which 
 determities his w. i, directs his choice, and decides his preference 
 for one thing abofe another; that power must be inlielligeiit, it 
 miiit perceive an.l d^ioilminkte. And if this could not be 
 aalii)itl^ i that siieh a power is within ^the creature, if there is 
 siioh ' a^ power at all which determines his* will, it must be without 
 the creature ; and if it is without him, how can it be called the 
 
128 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY 
 
 in»tinot of him ? If iostinot is tho power vrhifMi d^tantiinva 
 
 thia will of brutes, instinct must have the power of choice, or 
 
 how could it determine the will ? And if it hae the power of 
 
 choice it is the will, for what else can be thp' ^iU of any cre?iture 
 
 but iliat power of choice which is within it ? So that according 
 
 to. the definition as given by Mr. Walker and others that he has 
 
 followed, the "brute" must either have two wills or no will at 
 
 all. They casi have ho will if we admit the theoiy of instimct 
 
 determining the will, l)ecaute, this would not leave the will free, 
 
 and therefore it would be no will at all, but oiil}i a powet which 
 
 is called "instihct,."' and which is' said to determine the will. 
 
 But if on the other hand we admit the will according to the 
 
 explanation above referred too, to be real>f«uchafi determines 
 
 the choice of the indiyidual then the poweir which it oadled 
 
 instinct, and which is said to direct and control the will would 
 
 o6naUiiite sHother will. No\^, the upshot of the^holejs this ; 
 
 if thete^B>« something in the brute whibh determines his wiQ 
 
 that aonte4hin§ whatever it may beeaUed destroya the infiu^oee, 
 
 the a^tioBy'an^itho, very nature of thewili^'becausepsihatever 
 
 detersa&nes the ebpice is thq w!ill. , * -r ■■r. , iro toatt/io f 
 
 ; jSh^**8( .* 'Whfif^wer: o/choicein hruUi^^ythe brutes have' a 
 poWer Afchoipe a£: well. as imeny and which power they eiserois^ 
 inhtidngslti^mtlii^ tO: their iottereit with . as/iiiueh fire^omy 
 aotWr^y^ and lAdSpendeno^ aei the genenUity' . of itaeni ua^iftst 
 iti. thiir dhmce. ^ ^hey are infiubneied wilkmotives t*i aeek^their 
 QiWii:hap^in£BSy ancl fittldy thdir Qwn\€iQiuf(xrt, whkb avisos ftaai 
 ap|)ctite^ QxeitisD, Or rOM, as the, lease may ht^ a;nd> their affce- 
 turns arei mvandJbly plamid on . a similai' pa^inicij^ of jprofereiicie 
 to that of iDQieiL . They love tb^ir. yoiihg ' ahd ; witt ddfend and 
 protect them, in proportion to their power ^ to do so, with at 
 much r^laUoin and! original decision of icharacter as mankind. 
 The heel c€ the horae, the hotn of the ox, the bill and dawn of 
 the bird^ and ihs truiik of iJi.e elephSitt, aj^ used by them > as 
 instruments i of sel£4efeiice^w , aggressive la^OYements to secure 
 oertaia objects wliii whieh iheir gratdfioatidn Idcoateoted^ and 
 in irlii<^th0y judge their haj^ditesa ta consist, they then^(Hre 
 evinee^ ai inotivft . bf aclioA whii^ ioflueiices th^ wiUi r This 
 mbtive of aotieo^'whether. Jit is in menr or Aoimals) arifpropctr* 
 tion tx> its degree,; everts a powisr on ithe ^will, and is intended 
 to lead the sdul to prefei*, or put fortli its choice, for whatever 
 
f; -J T')i.aU/Ji .' 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF tHE MEMORY. 129 
 
 might aiypear to eoncfocie to its own gratiiksation, profit or 
 faappineak Should iakln great principle of preference kit happl- 
 nesB be eAtraote<| fipoin oar nature, it would greatly pomlyie aU 
 our efforts and i^iurtirate all our plans, if it did not put «n end 
 to all voluntary motion) which in all probability it would do. In 
 the bnite ereation, gratification is the ultimate :obJeot of every 
 voluwiiiry action; and so il is among the human faanyy 
 when the action. is prompted only bT' the animal prQ^tendkies ; 
 but when the action is prompted by the moral jprinoiple^ a 
 faculty which the brutes do not possess, at all events in a dWee 
 sufficient to influence any action^ or choice of any action, pwely 
 on the principles of right aJRd • wiron^; But man, wliild lie 
 retains iiis life, and Uiought^ and immortality, must pref^ 
 happiness to misery, yet under the influenoo oi thf# grao^ «f 
 ChMl, aiid knowing as he does his liiabillty to err in jttagmentj 
 veUtive^to whst'^may be bMt' 1^ ^he general^ good , he oilfin 
 rdinquishoiy his pkfe#enoe ' for haj^inesfr ' at . the present time^ 
 and submits ^ &ie most bliertfeiatiitg paid, WeVettMlestJ h« ^lias 
 qtill a».eye toother ftiiMMw«BOibf«vt that heiei^ects'l^^^^t 
 oftiho'']|)Wflentfcftiolioiiy'''^'i-'*= v'f'^''^ ■■''•■'- •' •; ■ --'' •)-.f^}^' ■" 
 
 'See. 9:- M^fi^mm 4&'- fh^pflineM' (i ampttdiiig- pri'Miph. 
 Now, inasmuch as ali.,orei^tursiiOa^lA»«oC Voluntary M^<^ 
 must possess a willf for this is necessary tq direct such mention, 
 so ^liMrise do all ciuatuares wliieh i|)Oasbss a will i^qubre^ an 
 original powei^ to excite* the tei^ to 'action, whichf^wo^weuM^'baill 
 the motive pttwef, ' To say that.it determines [^ wilV iti all 
 subordinato eases, or In any subordinato case of prelforence^Would 
 not be strictly true, pret to say th>t it determine the' will on 
 the geUeral principle of (he choice of happiness « insteiid of 
 misery, would only be to say that which agrees with tlie princi- 
 pliBs OT sound philosophy aind the experiencei of alt beings cap<kble 
 of voluntanr action* 'For no 'Creature can, in the vqtj nature 
 of things, deliberately desire misery in pvefefence to hs^ppiness. 
 This we call the great motive ^otoer, a ' leiuliTvg ^principle, 
 which is as widely diffused through Jahovah's empire as animal 
 or intelleckial existenoi), and 'WiU continue to^ert iis^^ leading 
 and controling influence through the pvosent atote'' ahd wifi 
 remain a living and continually < activo inrinc^le tnrouglF"afi 
 etetnitj^ But though ihis^n[i<ciple> ever Mvos in i^d thrpttgli 
 idl sensitive beings, viv., a 4esirO for happi^iess, yet the bidaife 
 
130 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MBMORY. 
 
 to be used to really obtain that object, by rational and aceount- 
 able bein^like as we are, mnstfbe explained aocording to the 
 higher principles of our nature, because it reauires the voliticm 
 and effort of moral agency assisted by an enliditened intelleot. 
 It is not so however with the lower animals, although they are 
 creatures of preference as well as man, and so much so that 
 they aro>fre<]|Uently disposed to take their own course and that 
 too, in. opposition to ayery rigorous discipline. We therefore 
 conolnde that the wiU of all beings is so far controled iby an 
 original power which the great creator has impkAted in their 
 nature, tnai they desir^ and prefer happiness as liaturally and 
 as easily aa they bveathCf ' Indeed it requires no effort of tlie 
 soul to desire or malce choice of happiness. I questdon Very 
 much whetlier any one can remember the period wliea.he did 
 not desire tO be.happy, to .wheto he £e}t indifferent Uthet to 
 hi^piness or misery^ It is doabtfiil indeed^ dwhtetber any man 
 caa, remember any eircums^ntfe of his- Ufo that 4ver oeounied 
 whiolK led Urn to, deiKreeiate or itUnk lightj^y ok his oun hajn^ir 
 nesB., :TtvQr^lore» . this iendeney to h»ppiiM)ss, ; more pMpttHy 
 speaking, does not' come within the povineeof tthe/ioi^^'beQfctte 
 there is no alternative, there is no choice in a strictly philoso- 
 phical sensei,^^r*e is no-effofi^ the iioiil<ieqtni»s*.sto.'«ft>rt, 
 )ineiE|s. is not rejected, «V< mttmii he fyJwtedJ. t »/ : n-^ : u I . ^ //. 
 
 bsfipi 
 
 "I 
 
 ruft 
 
 Now, we h^ve no objectioti that this : great fuUng < priii^le, 
 to whiicA we KiVejdluded'tabove, shouldloe.QaUed by the naiM 
 ofimtiHcty SO; that we, can> only come to kilow .when we speak ef 
 instinct* wbaltlsikieantr by tbe^teiim* But we are not. willing to 
 acknowledge that this principle, even according to Our views, 
 and the explanation we have given, controls Uiewillof'f brutes" 
 any further than it doeis, the will <^ mien*i Xi is « natiunl 
 endowment, a law of mind which is beyond the pO.wer of ai^y 
 to ignore, it is a something impM^ied, somethine di&rent in its 
 nature from matter, so that this instinct after <ul is a powto of 
 mifidan^ not of matter.' ., / ^j 
 
 ^ec. IQ .' I i What 4t U thai Ada lefl jfnen te oaU th^MioeF 
 atwnait " onljf crwiure^ of inHinet" But we do i not design, 
 however, JO tra^ bac^ ihe origin of ithis opinion thhai^^,. &q 
 dense wilderness of ancient philf)80phi<ial speoMllktiQnSi Uus 
 would be a very tedious Undertsiking, and one Of no real benefit 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 131 
 
 after all. We shall merely remark that the notion has been 
 entertained, and it has gone its roands, for how Ibnff we cannot 
 tell, and it is enough to know that it is now goneraUy applied 
 to them, and for the purpose too of distinguishinc the supposed 
 difference between their thinking principle and that (k tho 
 human family. 
 
 We would therefinre remark in the first plaoe that the kind 
 of teaching which men have had is one reason why this opinion 
 is so preyaient, or rather we might say, why this phraseology is 
 so general. For it is doubt^il whethisr half tha peoj^e ^ho tcU 
 us that the lower animalB are '^ merely oreatnres ix in8tin<A/\ 
 have any opinion at all in the matter ; any further than ih«y 
 have been taught l^is theory, and the amount of teaohing p«^ 
 haps, has been simj^y that ther have learned that oeriain 
 teachers and prominent men, and authors that ^^y have read, 
 were of that .pinion. And 'we sH know that th^^ is a'laitte 
 prmrtkn:ofreGk;A3ri^^D«rKm« who are governed altogether in 
 authctrs, for whatever is said by their favorite dass (tf initers is 
 BwaUowtd down, without any sospioion, b^ wliblesale. The 
 andentatampand a popular name are sufficient witib this cUsii 
 of mea to oovte all ddTects and reconcile *all tiontradiotidmi tiiat 
 any book written by such particular fiworiteit Iniy contain. 
 And as theso persons hftve read in so tnn% plaoes a&d ham 
 found it tb be the opinion df so many refl|)eetAblle i^id iiil|BUip;ent 
 men, that 'the lower animals are m<irJ9l^ creatures iof Jnftu^dt, 
 they have, on this authority admitted it as a standing truth ; 
 and now, afiber having been an . acknowledge truth, fbr 
 centuries, according to their principles of philosophy, fi)r any 
 one, and especially any one who makes no pretenl^ons to a^y 
 more than an ordinary share of common sense,to call in question 
 the truth of it, appears to them the very height df presoinption. 
 
 Ste. 11 ; (2) Mental indolence is another cause thi^t has 
 contributed largely to the ourrencrf which this kind of philoso- 
 phy has received among men. Many ten thousands of map- 
 kind would much rather be ignorant than they would submit 
 to endure that amount of mental exercise which is the price q£ 
 such knowledge, and without which they themselves appear to 
 be fully aware it cannot be obtained. But to use their own 
 words, they cannot '* rack their brains about such matters," 
 
ia2 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY.J 
 
 that is to Bay, they o&itnot, they will not purchase truth at so 
 high a price, they would ratlier mn the risk of embmudng an 
 error, and especially, what might he considered a harmless and 
 popular error, like the onv<) under consideration, than to have 
 to iii^okrk so hard to get the truth. ttitii:/ 
 
 Sec. 12 ; (3) But there is another class of men who, 
 altfabufl^ they have i^ thirst fbr knowledge, afe but Httk better 
 off. They kre^in the habit ofllooldng iikto the natuire of tlungs 
 tois^meozteht, But their intend desue to'know as such,; and 
 if posnble b* U<{tle^ mbr^ than tilie^]^ neighbors, thdr ambition 
 pr^Mqyts theu to leap to qjkiciaBions witliouit fully investigating 
 tlieimibjedfe iuhdoor their consideration* : And< thus in their 
 haft0 IQ eiseel all otherBj they do not eaLeroise that deliberate 
 duetioDainatibn which ihe importiiAoe of th^ ease deinandsj they 
 dd BOtpurJBUfi tbe^liject fhjN)Ug^ all-its bearings: wiili sufficient 
 okteniion and difig^n^ to ensSm iiieia to folly [arrive at Jd^e 
 t(iith ; 'inid'beiiiff lather eredulims withali €hey €tnd aoxvfory 
 gxieat diffidalty in deceiving '^npugh: on; '^ftise from ' popular 
 wrliiers td auUcC up fby mhdk, they perdeha^' they iadb. < Aad^ hy 
 this^ coux^i- these perioiis oome to adopt -aii opmioii whi^ luii» 
 sdaroely boenf half digested^et, hoi>iDg they ha1i« the tratk they 
 beoodie lettted do#ii thereinV aiid 90 Mat tiir to their aStoiiifl^i' 
 nMMi ahd '^haBMy yrfkk It eomeB toha poti to the test, iheyflad 
 thiBMiebay tnipr^pbisd fo «i|8kain it > hy argnimeiitv ' Noiw,^ <he 
 sUljedt uhder 4>ur coY)ifiider&tioii,^^hi(di ii tfeb'^idendty of 
 nK^Aory, has heen treated m asiailtM? maiiDer, Ifor it/i^p^^ 
 t^iiave robi&ivyt M>it few oooasionalfglattbeB, irhieh will acoount 
 fto'inkny of thocM^ erroneous ideas ooniect^d with tho inteUec^ 
 titd state €(f the lowier animals. 
 
 SioiclWy [J^i^ to TMet t%B vAfidel^U' M» qwi^' ffifiofUi^^ 
 The theory that the lower animals " are merely creatures of 
 Insdiiet," has ebtaited much of its popularity from the sup[|K)- 
 sitioi^ ihat such a vi^w of the matter answers eflbttually &ie 
 queries of the infidel on the subject of immateriality. Now, 
 sujmdse we admit that such a view of the nature of the lower 
 auimals is competent to do all that its advocates say it oando, 
 ^hat would the cause of ti*uth gain if one false positiott is 
 assuitned ihc>riely to put another to the blush ? Nothing. And 
 truth will never thank its advooabes for the superabundance of 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 133 
 
 tl^eii: zoal in attempting to defend her cause with duoh flimsy 
 weapons. Truth is not ashamed to appear in her own simple, 
 native, anc}^ unadulterated form, or to show herself in her own 
 real' character. , 
 
 ;!]\|any chribtian people appear to he afraid to meet the infidel 
 09 tl^e ground that he has assumed^ for fear that the cause of 
 chrii^tianity shoul4!Su&r loss. The position of infidelity, I 
 helieve js tl;us : all thought is either material or immaterial. 
 An4 the inference which they draw from this propositioA is^ 
 if jji^ought is aJl materia}, the existence of man will end witii 
 thiq ivresept state of (things, that when the body dies the soul 
 cea9es for ever to live; but if all thought is immaterial, as the 
 low^r animals think, .then, the, brute creation will necessarily 
 live for eyeiT* TM3 being the oonclusioa of the infidel, and 
 appear3 to maiiy to ;be unanswerable in the i^Upe . in whush it 
 st^unds;, attempit^ have, been inado to show a difference in the- 
 nfif])^e,Qr essence of ,,tho>aghjb so as to. answer the query of 
 infii^U^y whidi la thei Ibllowing:^ That thougli i^ie lower 
 an^nalct 4p..^pkand T^ememhoVt ^xi^b ia a fact acknowledged 
 frop4 oally.oli^rvation, neverthdl«s& they think and remember 
 by the inUifiU of their Aature^and are oons^uently '' merely 
 cre^tuxesof inst^^nct^",and wiU not alwa^gs uve,4becatise thev 
 dx^preOftwrea^ o/'iWinp^, whereas man is endowed with mind,. 
 inteQecty soul, or whatever else it may be called, and will 
 cohsequently live fi)rever. l^ut unfortunately for those who 
 assume this position, it fails to accomplish its object ;, it doei^ 
 not quash the bold and independent '' free thinker," he 
 proceo(ia to interrogate :-rr- r,j^ rn'o^^i^^j^. y.''^'**^^^^ ^ ^ 
 
 14 4 Thii ground which, edch assmuB, Infidel .*- 
 Yoii assume that the : lower ^nj^als fire merely creatures of 
 instWffit,., Pleasje tell me, whaV. this ipstinct is, or what you 
 ui^rstand it io be, as I apprehend you conceive a diffarenoe 
 in the nature of the intellect of an animal and that of a man t '. 
 
 Christum: Why, it i& a i^atiiral endowiQent, to be sure,, 
 for thi? is what we mean by •* instinct." 
 
 Infidd: That does not answer the question, it leaves me 
 as &r in the dark as I was before, my anziety is to know th^ 
 31 
 
I 
 
 134 
 
 PHILOSOTHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 n^tuire of this endowment. Yoi ., aa a christian, believe, I 
 presume, that the whole universe of God is made up of matter 
 and mind, and you say that matter cannot think nor move 
 itself, neither stop its motion ; now, I wish to know whether 
 that which you call instinct in the lower animals is of a 
 maiterial organisation^ or of an immaterial construction ? Thus 
 the infidel will press the ^[uestion, and thdre is no way to g^ 
 abound it^ it cannot be ignored, its force must be felt. The 
 christian' may rej^ly by saying he sees no propriety in u^ing a 
 pornt that neiiher^arty can fully ilhderstand, he may tell *^ ^ 
 iniideltiiat the 'lower animals are called creatures of insti; .: 
 merely to distinguish them £rom the higher potion that n -:: 
 hxMa in the soide of intellectual beings and tiiat his thoi^hts 
 can reach as high aS heaven and the fJirone of God, land that 
 tlw thoughts of the lower animals are confined to their sensutil 
 et^joymetttSyr ai^ that these are the reasons whv they are cti^ed 
 crititme943f intHnet, And thia is about au tiifr satisfaction; 
 ahy^puM ican get from the gi^neralky of those pcirsens i^ho l»6!d 
 suck seut^ents as are' ll^ere. repr6seiiled % the thristi^tif ttn^ 
 v^hatevet may ' be the opinion of dthers, otnr own opinion ii thii 
 to resort ta such means of defence agidnst the attack^ t)f 
 infidelity teids todo i^ <iause df revealed religion mote harm 
 thai^'gom ' But <ihttk question might arise what shall we do 
 with ^e |a«dposition of the^ infidel, whidk is this : if the Ib^^er 
 animals are endowed with immateriality, they will hecesSarily 
 live for ever, unless we can dispose of it in someway similar to^ 
 that-above? ''^'> '-^^ *'''^M_'<*';'-'->'^ ''"" 
 
 : i > i.<y 
 
 iV 
 
 
 ■i^h^ 
 
 We humbly conceive that an unwillingness to allow tbetH^'ii 
 place in eternity is owing perhaps more to the difficulties wh^ch 
 are supposed to be connected with t^ieir existence ihafuttEre 
 st4te^ and) as they conceive, the impossibility to reconcile that 
 existence with the consistency 6( the Divine character is what 
 have ied many to deny the immateriality of their endotrxneht.. 
 Bui whatever amount (^ obstaoleB, ei^erin numb^ orm^ni-^ 
 tude, may appear to be, or may in reality be, in the way of their 
 supposed' future existence, it is a miserable shift, and one that I 
 hold to be beneath the intc^lj and canity of the christiaa 
 character to attempt to obviate them, v, either by denying the 
 powers'of thought, memory, perception, and consciousness, in 
 those creatures, and thus deny their immateriality, or on tho 
 
 -au v mrnm * ^" - 
 
PHILOSOPHY 0P< THU MEMORY. 
 
 135 
 
 other hand by admitting, cither directly or indirectly, or by 
 intimating anything that would lead to the conclusion, that all 
 those noble powers of thought, perception, memory, conscious- 
 ness, &c., with the will and sensation, are of a material construc- 
 tion. 
 
 Sec, 15 : GocPs w<^ i9 the Jfeaty . whatever that may be. 
 Now, the difficulties connected with the reconciliation of mind 
 in th|3 lower apimals Ywhich n^ind has power ^ remember, and 
 remembering proviBs tlie esistcnc^ of a thinking principle) with 
 the Divine attributes, when viewed in the light of true philoso- 
 pher, api^r t6 be b^it'&w: If God has designed the lower 
 animals Ibr a fixture existence, whether for a liinitSd peri(^ 6r to 
 til eternity,' asf an imilvidiiral worm of earth depending constantly 
 tipdn h^ fiivine Ppwer a^d Goodni^, for.life, both in timie ahd 
 eternity, Ha^Hpa dbj^tion to offer, hut f<^) perfectly satii^^ 
 thett sueh arrangemient wlU e^titribute to the ^ood of ixi&0i^ 
 aM the glory of the Cr^toir. But of this, like mani^, ^^r 
 thhigaeQ^eoted i^ith' the' Divine eppnonnr; we^^tn^t'be.saiys^i^ 
 16 Wiojiitt'cbtfiiifai^tiydlif ignora ut.til the Orfeat Aiiithor of diir 
 befaig f&ail 't^ fit to reihove us to aii.othei' slate di^exl8ten(}d^ ' The 
 gr^ Oreat()|r has not cTanap^ hiinsetf fdr r«i6ni, there i^"a 
 plenty in h^ 'l^ast 'doipiains, and ^ he has deisigned th^ lowj^t 
 itikfafials',^ Uv^ in ihe futnre. hd will find them ^ a place. ^ 
 
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iPHII-QSOPHy OF THB WBMORY. 
 
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 ■'■■ .-6 
 
 \ i)'m\h'*^iii ^<b^ 
 
 
 IMMATERIALITY AND IMMORTALITV, AND WHV 7 
 
 iV. 
 
 
 ^w = J^f Iw^rmteridlfUi/ of memory.. There does i^ 
 app^ur io be af^y reason that can be assigned why any person 
 sf^oold beiieve in, different Unda o^r inepipry, that i% for an 
 an^ to, have one kind, wan another kind, and ihe|<>iKe)r 
 Ai^unals ano^er kind. Ttvi,% there , is & d^erje^npe^ a mark<^ 
 ^^^r^ce, and^a yery great di&rence, biit,tiiatis.not in .tlM^ 
 kuid, 1^ is to.be so;i^^ for and^ionn^i^ii tbea^ree« '^^ 
 oatt.the inepp\ory imml^tj^rialj ijiot^ beqaicu^; tte weijiQry i^if 
 iTaqnl^y in, tVe aq^^va^t/sucK as we wpim pi^ tI^,liiriU;a pwer 
 to pho9»e, or t|ie sense a powj^ P feel, Wt b^9ii£^ it? ^ <♦ 
 {K>wer l^longipg tp avii- f^nt^b^ oonni^oted wi^ tk96e Iq^i^ 
 tiies wl^Qh; ,aj;e of ,an imu^tefiai Oonstri^o^, ana b^^psQ jt if 
 identi^ed Yirith perception vfi,, i^ pafi^ jtbat ^ f^f3,¥^ }9P)^ 
 terial action in past life ; so that the memory is only imma- 
 terial comparatively, not positively, because it is merely the act 
 of immateriality, and not the immateriality itself; the mind is 
 the immateriality of ther creature, and the memory is an act of 
 the mind, ^r more properly speaking, actions of the mind. 
 And the power to remember or perceive the present, is a power 
 that belongs to nothing' but j>ure immateriality. So that it is 
 not the act of the mind, whether in the past by remembering, 
 or in the present by thinking, that is to be looked upon as au 
 abstract immateriality, so far at least as we can see, only that 
 it is knowledge perceived by the aotica of immateriality, viz. : 
 thinking or rem^mheriug is knowledge perceived by the mind. 
 Perception, every one nmst know, is not in the past without 
 perceiving, for tlicre can be no such thing as perception ozistr 
 ing without perceiving, because, this would be a contradiction ; 
 just as much so as it would bo to suppose that perception could 
 take place without an intellectual action. But nevertheless. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 137 
 
 the action is one tiling, and the intellect that produces the 
 action is another thing. And the intellect may be called 
 immaterial, which name it deserves, and so may the action by 
 way of accommodation to distinguish it from an act indirectly 
 produced by matter, viz., through the instrumentality of 
 matter, but philosophically speaking it is not immaterla]. For 
 it wduld be just as reasonable to suppose that eVeiy physical 
 ipotion, as we commonly call it, produces an additional amount 
 of matter in the material univen^, as ta siipik>ae that every 
 intellectual motion is constancy adding to the oHginalvstock of 
 immateriaGty in the world of*^^mind, and to suppose that all 
 thought is either material dr immaterial fi to suppose dther 
 one or the other bf these. It will be perceived mim whatwe 
 have stated ^at while T^e Acknowledge th0 immateriality of the 
 tMnkitig ptitciple; we 0oncc|ive there is a difference between 
 ;fA<tf and the tAot^^r^ which the inaterialist tells ud must bti all 
 'eiib^r mat^sJ or immaterial; Btit this tre' admit, th^t all 
 brings capable of thinking and rei]iiemberinj| aito clhdowed With 
 i)^i^tiott and cotnsijfdush^, yei i^eidiei' of theeie can possibly 
 W iif^ nlateriaf constartictibiji AiicI if it fo the Willof Otir 
 Almi^ty Make^ ^t' alFbeii^' endowed ^th immateri^litV 
 ^hallTive always, so kit it he. • Whether they shall liv6 as mind 
 ^W^ matter, united, as they d^ 'U': t&teir )^)r^nt t^te of b^in^ 
 6k whether that iminatenalit^ t|^ttt ndw' 'aiiimi^i%eEJ theaioi UhSi 
 live ihde|>^ttHeht of and without 'the physical ^rt-^We c^k 
 of the lowii^ animals-^m6rt»l man has no right to etiiteplaih. 
 Th6 "^holis depends ton the trillof thb Cr^tof, «nd idfatever 
 Is his will thoiiM te &ur viiU. ' . And if this slionld be the 
 ]>iyine arrangement, hie Is fcdly competent tb |lrodUqe frond 
 that inexhaustible fountad^ of goodness whicih is in himself; a 
 istiJQaici^nt variety' to ' .Oti^ige thidir attention' and ionuse their 
 ii^rnds' thrtiu|;h the lijunberless a^ bf eternity without throw- 
 ing sii;)^ obstacle in theWaJi^ 6fhis niore intelligent creaturesl iiela- 
 tfv^' to their fulness of happiness and ihe perpetual ezpan^on 
 andgrowth of theit minds. Thclref6M;fT6m oonsideratidns 0f 
 tl^sli^ind we are l0d to conclude thiit to admit the possibility of 
 the eijl^al exii^nqedf the lower aniniails, thiit is, of their minds 
 Witli consciousnei^s that thev once existed' with a body, or eVen U^ 
 si]|]^pose their resurrection and a spiritual body to be given them, 
 eduld not be considered a supposition at all beyond the bounds 
 of possibility. -^^^^^ ^^ 
 
138 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY 
 
 • Sec. 2: Immat,ermlity no sure proof of immorixdit/y. 
 , imi the idea conveyed by infidelity, and the same i^ entertained 
 by, perhaps, a large majority or christian p^ople^ who have 
 formed any opinion on the subject, is^ that the fact Qf imn^ater|fij- 
 ity in any being is an incontestible proof of tlie immortality of 
 the same being. ; NoWj* tjiis inference does not appear to be just, 
 I cannot conceive it to be legitiniate. I know, it i^genera]J|y 
 regfirded as ^ proof, ^^^ looked i;pon as cQnclusiye, t)^t to me it 
 looks ^ tie a inetre, pr^umptioti. - Thcte ^flv nothing i^ subordi- 
 nate inuii^teri^iity, innate or acquired, ;irom which, can be 
 proved its .eternal existence. It cannot be ur^edtKai it always 
 Jived, for. .^his wpidd be true only of* ^d> himself. And to say 
 that it^ nature is qti^it is to sinr a yery great and interesting trutih, 
 l»it to sui^KNse UUs to be f^jnu^&oi'snt argument tp prove its eterni^ 
 .existence i^ a great mistake ; one migVt as well ciay that |[^(^ise 
 matter is made iu certain formv that it mus^t^rey^'n^ainso. 
 jAnd if W9say,th(i|tthe spiriiwas crated for the ^(Hy of Go4j^i^ 
 therefore ]uust,al;wayB:Uve,iti(^ samie maybe said qfii^itjer^^a^ 
 it iwas created^ Gofi*s djory, for M *ife toW^ %4 l^^?(we^ 
 ''j^ai loi^ ojreitted a)l 1hiiigs;n>r hid plca^urei'* If a ujief^ P^P<¥i- 
 tion ^tt4 ooncluj^ipQ are to bp r^ffr4^' RS P^f ^^ <^^7 0''^^^f^i 
 ^here is.no di|i|culty in projvjBg ai^il^Qg;, even thei gr^^i 
 absurdity, and th^ mpst-* opni^^eting opposites. caj^ be|uroyedjU> 
 igree.^ tbis mode oC^oper^ti^n i^r all that, is required. ) Th^ 
 po^sitionjs, ev^ immaterial being ^is a pure fp|i:it^|au^.tlli|3 
 l^er^noe iS) nJi i^irits must live ^rever. Noiir supp^s^ we.try 
 thepppQs^teandse^if it;cannotf-be prov^ed byUi(^;8amierkiud«f 
 argument, that is,, every being endowed, with ^tti^aking p^ci- 
 pje.is endowed with bnmateriaUty, which is pure spirit, ai^^ |t)l 
 |3uboxdinate immateri^Hty must finally cease tq b^. ,3o t)^t tjfe 
 same ajcgu^ient that is used, apd supposed tpbe eopclusiy^proo^ 
 of ,t^«ti^nal exis^ce of all immAteria$i(y, .oau also biausecL to 
 prove theannilulatipn Qi^the »?u]. J^uit-^tui wc: thi^uk thiM^ mct^ 
 phy9J[p4^9ApiP4ng is fully ,s]#ci^ the immaten^ty of 
 
 a|I Ij^if^ that are capable, of t^kiii^ and rei];iembenng;,^ut ^ jis 
 'l4togeitli<?r inadequate to prove thiQ imfnoitallty of aqy boing 
 ec^pept , the, Almighty himself. . Jfhcrefore, if immfiter iiditj be 
 admitted as a poperty of soul of man, wHch willpot^be'dejiied 
 py any except infidieis,. we incM^ the lowex- animals as possefssing 
 inpdateriality also, yet the same is "Q positive p;rop(, qfl j^lie 
 immortality of either. ; ■ . '. > 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 139 
 
 Sec. 3 ; G'orf's imwer is not limited. We would be very 
 far from attempting to set bounds to the powerof our Almighty 
 Creator by supposing that he could not consistently make, and 
 impart to any organized being a mind for any less period than a 
 boundless etemitv. This would be in effect to say that God 
 cbul4 make nothing to servQ, exclusively, the present state of 
 things, especially if that same thing should need to be endowed 
 with a thinking power to serve the same pinrpose. This would 
 go to say, that the power of God was limited. Now, we know 
 and admit that it is impossible fbr the Ahnigl\ty to do that 
 which involves a oontradictioii, and is .inconsistent with it«^lf; 
 but this is cei^nly hot a case of that kind, and the only 
 question invbl^d in^ the opposition is that of power, which no 
 one who acknowledges the existence of the Supreme Being t&n 
 deny. And there is pe^hatM^hot one tob^ found, who believes 
 in we AlmigW, that womqE {ffe^utaie to say thikt it is imjpirae- 
 ticiible for our Creator \o end^w tHe loweif animsls with.imina- 
 t^jriality to serv^ tUb present |$^te of beinig.' And s^ing 0od 
 his not thonght proper .to a^^untman^ith kll, his d^igiis in 
 'r^erenpe'td^pse crektiires,^ ^r' liim to affinn on the'^^ 
 that if they ai^ iin^aterim they, tttti^t ah^ays livd, or t^ng 
 the^ are below iis in the 8c4^ of ^eiistenoe, they can havei no 
 iinmateriality,..andtn6ugh^ the^ma^ think and reni^bdr it 
 must be aocouAted'fo^^ph S6n(^e .bother ptfnbiple; iM si>^i<^^^ 
 viU\^ is h(^t ju^ilfikhle ieitid^ m^^ le^ft t5 d^ii^rdiis r^ts. 
 Th4 truth IS, jGbd has power to makd a body' to a ^[ib^ifid ^t^ 
 pose for d^ definite time, and then to b^ , no mqre. ^nd it iii 
 equally trt^e that JGriod hjats ^ niueh, pbwer bVer ininditd he has 
 over inatte^, theirefbre he Din mak^ iniiid' tb ^rve hi^ purpose 
 for any limited period, and then to be lib mbire. ' Ko being is 
 ncpessarijy ipimortoJ beeausejt lives, or because it is in^de fft it 
 \i, 'kiid e^dowe^ with the poW0rs that it h^, not yet b^canise it 
 iridy desire to live always.'' •. i. ..:^^ ov. j^_ 
 
 See/4: : The immortoMty oftdld^m^ oiitMvnlV qf fhfi 
 Credt^f. The immortality, bf all created beinjgs. is Cjoatitiually 
 deipendin^ i>n the will of the Creator, t^eir 'inim9rt^ty is not 
 absblnte, apd it does hot appear to be tiiecess{i|i;y, neither are' Vf^ 
 sure it is general, much less universal. But it might be ^ed, 
 Would hot this view of the jubject militate agaii^st the immortal- 
 ity of the soul of man ? The real question is not whether one 
 
140 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 opinion will como in contact with another opinion, and make 
 this the rule by which to judge of its correctness, but it is this, 
 is the thing true in itself, truth is the thing to be sought for and 
 reyered. But tl^s is certain, no created being can be proved 
 immortal from the constitution of the same being, and no 
 metaphysical argument hitherto advanced has proved sufficient 
 to settle the q^estio^. 
 
 .7 ■■,11 
 
 Sec, 6 ; immortality of the muI canmt he proved from 
 metaphysical reasoning. If the immortality of the soul cpuld 
 have Deen proved from its nature, it is natural to suppose t^at 
 the heathen pMlosophers whose whole attention was absorbed 
 in metaphysical subjects, studying into the nature of things, 
 would have discovered the f^ot centuries ago. Bu^.they camo 
 short of this koowledgo, and so should ^e were it not tfaa^ we 
 hjii^$ "a surer wbrdofprophecjjr." ^ocri^tes, wl^o ispent a Itfe- 
 timje insipeoulating on morid^ty jesired earnestly and laboured 
 {ff^^ntly to know the soul*a future destiny, yet, with alibis 
 ji^owl^dgQ of philosophy and speculative inorality, he di^d 
 ignorant of tlie immortality of *the>ouJ. /VPlato, also, who 
 wrote essays on thig subject, lieaves himself and his readers in 
 uip^r iinoertainty jn regard to the soul's i(n|^l 4ostjn^;" Here 
 are two pf the mofit enliglitened philoroj^ers of ftnoient date. 
 Greece a^d Bone^eVitli idl t^ir&)2isteds9ns. of science, cannot 
 pKuiiic^ on ihe.pi^ of their h^to^ any 9ji^Qng ib% phUoeo- 
 pniirs, their poets, or thei^ states^ that (jomd surpass in 
 point ioftruephilo^sophy or speculative^ .or. practical morality, 
 the two that we hay<^ named. And what did t^ey know of the 
 iminortality of the'soul ? Comparatively UjOthing. r 
 
 S^^Q: Immortality proved onty from the Ohristiau 
 Scriptures, The immortality of subordinate bein^gs, . whether 
 they are angels, men, or devils, is proved only from the christian 
 scriptures^, which we take, and aie not a^am^ to take, as a 
 foj^ijidation for ovir belief in tihiS'^atteji^. A^d wer ventu^ tp 
 s^y that there is no other pource^wh^ch^l^ a|(brd ^ny :conG|l^T 
 siye proof but this, A'ld we who now l^ive in thip • Prbviuce ' of 
 panada, in this 19th century, if it were not for the l^ght of 
 revcUtionr would be as confused in our views, and as dark ^n 
 oiir minds on the subject of tbe soul'e immortality, as weiie the 
 ancient Greeks and Romans. The very justly celebrated Drs. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 141 
 
 Diok and Paloy, and also many others, who were ominoni both 
 for their learning and piety, have written many excellent things 
 both amusing, instructing, and encouraging, on the immortality 
 of the soul; but what does it all prove without the bible? 
 That alone is proof on this subject which is drawn from the 
 sacred writings. And there is ample proof here of the immor- 
 tality of the soul of man, but J. am not aware that thoy produce 
 any proof of the immort^ty of any doss of inferior animals. 
 This subject I regard as purely speculative, and in reference to 
 their future existence exceedingly doubtful. But before we 
 dismiss the subject in reference to the query of infidelity w<? 
 shall make some further remarks on motion, .and- before doing 
 that may o£(er a suggestion to the ehristiaii, «h<!»ild th^se lines 
 meet the eye of any who might chance to hate'mor^ seal for thb 
 cause of Christianity -than prudenee in defending it. And the 
 suggestion ; is this^ the shorteiit and mosl; eflbctual way is to 
 acknowledge frankly and honestly the facts of the«ease, UMlHito 
 oomfBl the infidel to put his proposition id a right shape. Tl» 
 infi^ says, " all thought is ieither material or uniiiateri4L^ At 
 this the christian lodl^, and admits thei ppopositicti^ bait is stiU 
 anxious to xniiintaiti his orthodoxy, Mid le do that takes a 
 qoRirse which defeat^ the'oligect^ in a great measure, because he 
 vittoallycbnttadictshinMieEc And yet the tnith is, though tdns 
 c^ thousands might fall' €6 seeit,that;the propbsiii<«K of ^e infidel 
 is a sophistryy for it cannot be made to appear, properly speak-' 
 ing, that thought is either matter or mind, ana to call it either 
 one or the other, or something made; up of both, ddes not give 
 it its iproper representation. i . < 
 
 
 ■ .■ ■ 'i^.'l-.'ilH! ,; li - 
 ■I ■ •"';>' ' '. i} ' . 
 
 ■ vi' M^ji^ '•■■ .'■'•'■■ ■■:■ 
 
 :^,r* 
 
 
142 PHlIbOfiOPHY OF THl£ iMBMORY. 
 
 
 'IVTl.'jf 
 
 -niii] ill .il'''»/.">7fi.!m ar>j)h'ff o/.ciC .vV^ft •""' ^ulni\-\\ vul^tol 
 
 fiftrt V rr:A»i lo vHAPTEJI AY:!/, ri.ni ;.j!f V> Vvjff 7;fi' 
 
 ^ ;vf-lo(l MjO Off,-;IW)TK)N:A??D ITS LAlijra. ;,.., .,.,M„V^i:M{r 
 
 , ,^ .wjf^jf^n.jf \. ■ >, ^ ....■, .1 -r , . . I ■ Mursilf' 
 
 /Ssc. 1 ; (y phywieat arid intdlechtal motion. Wo' oall. 
 moldoR pfayiubti moiion, or mtellectiral motion as tlie ease )my 
 be. But what right have we'io do lio bejrond thatofacodttiiiiD- 
 dirtloii/? Itisvieitl^'a^nitiWwEtyorBptokiiig^ and it does 
 not; exproiMr ihe faot in a 'pUin; tdmple, pHilosophioal sentte. 
 Mitier we know^<i»ni)oi-pvidn<te inoiion ataD, sikd it it oofild, 
 ihe motion! so ^rodsoid wotildiiol^ 4 ^sioa) mbtioBh; ' There 
 "i^ouldilwitothtiigrphjsioal aboni'the motioii, ^ihere woW t>o 
 Mknefhing ph;^eal in the body' bioVing ; 'bolt ' sU^ Hiidre' i%ottld 
 be, or eoald pbsinhly iie in the natnre of thirig|S, is tilis, ' 'tliAK a 
 oertain hcUy woald be uovi«g ihstiead df bdnk at' i«st.' ''But 
 wheni it stops where is tho. motion; and what ii the iaM^toA 
 when the thinig is nqt ih^xmlg? < The motion is now^l^, 
 beeausetho bochr does not mot«. But the faet^ in 'teJRiiSenoe to 
 the body havifiig msoved just so far^ so fast, iliid kef>&^bnifg 
 jnst So long, oontinties tp'bd a> foot ihat the body did move. 
 This faot took its origin with the motion,' and (remain^ th^ Mk^ 
 when the motion cpases, it is not increased nor diminished, and 
 never will be through time nor eternity. But what idea can 
 any man form of a motion existing aside from the body mov- 
 ing ? To talk about the nature of that motion not connected 
 with the thing moving, appears to me to be absurd, for a thing 
 has no nature that has no existence, and seeing the body does 
 not now move, there is no motion, if it did move now, there 
 would be motion, but it would not be that motion that has 
 ]i)een made, but another one. No one, I should suppose, would 
 attempt to explain this by saying the nature of motion is to 
 move, seeing that it would reflect no light on the subject, but 
 would leave the matter just where it is. And to say that a 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 143 
 
 motion can stop, may, it is trne, b^ admilisible for purposes of 
 ncoommodation, but is neverthdobs a philosophioaf oontradic- 
 lion, because a motion is one thing, and stopping is another. 
 For when it stops it is not motion, because it is not moving, 
 an4 when it moves it is not stopping, because it is moving. 
 But iievert.hcless, we call this a material motion j not because 
 itis of a mat( rial organization, or possessing any, malertal'pttrts, 
 but merely because a material objeoiis moving. ,Now, what is 
 hero sai^ of matter will in a ^eat measure apply to. mind. 
 For the thought is not to be consildered ad an immateriU some- 
 thing m<irely because the soul that produces it is imtnaterial, 
 The thought is simply an act of an immaterial being, . andl the 
 ao^ does not exist as an iidtion when th^e act is ove^, Ivow IS it 
 possible that it should, bocduse an act is an action W^ilo- it aoiii, 
 but w&en it ceases to act the action is over; and does not aot, 
 and there is nothing in an action that we' ean eonceiv^ but 
 acting. But the fiict exists sd a ihet, that such action did take 
 place, and will remain forever true. . , , , 
 
 '-''S&!..%' . yo matmat ohjtset &eatea l>y'' the nidmfi 6/ '!a 
 mctfi^ridl Bd%.. The earth moves around the' sun but what 
 materi^ object id created by that motion,.' and what is. the 
 motion but the moving of the earth ? Now. the earih. h{ia 
 utbi^^ around thd istm nkore than 6,000 time^, Dut4oe8 any bhe 
 thiol: tlUt there arjB 5,000 something^ that are designated , by 
 the term motion, eiisting in its. orbit? ^ut ^e simple faet, 
 the ithaltl^rable truth rcmauur, and evcar' wiU remafn, ' that ^e 
 eartn has moved: around tihe sun just 5,000 times' Up tp a given 
 dat<^/and no more. So also does the inind mdVe^ aud the 
 mdtioU of the mind is ihinkinlg. We are iil the habit.of saying 
 that tiie mind maked tho^ightjjbttt irhat do we mean by this 
 expressioh? We simply meaAj We think* What thien d<>es 
 the n^nd make when it 'ma|:e9 a thought ? It Hooves, this is 
 thinking. And wheti the mind does not move we do not think^ 
 we cannot think.. yU i ;. 
 
 ^ec. 3 ; Td perceive^ d siimktnty requwes a tiew perct^ 
 HoH. And a motion, whether by the mind or 0bdy, once made 
 ean never bo made again. A similar one may be made, but 
 not the same. Hence,' to use the common phrase, a thought. 
 
144 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OP THE MBiMOBY. 
 
 which wc have ^nce thought can never he thought again. To 
 pcro^ivo that which we once thought in the past requires a new 
 perception, or in other words, it is by every Bubse(|ucnt motion, 
 of the mind that wo perceive any motion in the oast, viz., by 
 theso subsequent motions the soul becomes sensible of certain 
 facts in the past, in any number or to any extent. So that the 
 real nature |)Ossessed, and the only nature ia either case of the 
 motion past is, the fact that tJbesun did rise yesterday morning^ 
 the moon did change on the 14th ult., at 2 o'clock, a^ m./ and 
 that 1 did tl^ink las^t evening, thiat I never heard such heavy 
 thunder before^ These are all facts in the past, the rising of 
 the suo^the chaage of the moon, and that motion of my mmd., 
 But thai cihange of the moon, that rising of the sun, and that 
 motion, of my mind, wUl never occur again ; but it is a truth 
 this cr^„ and. i^wa^s will be, that all these things took place,, 
 yet ui order to b^^pm^ acquainted, with either truth we must 
 have ai^ew piBirception, OtUd this would be to remembes it. 
 
 Sec. 4 ; Remarks on the laws 9/ motion. We frequently 
 talk -a^d hea,r oth^s. talk, and quite fluently too, on what we 
 call the .I|iwi^ of mpticm. And no one will dispute th^ fact of 
 the^re bein^a la^o^ motion as well as a law of rest. But the 
 questioq is;' WAat is/that Uw pf motion and of rest? Is it si 
 mater^ soi^ething o;i: , «a immateriaJl , something ? Who 
 knoiws anytlunjg about it any further than this j it is ^ 
 law.? ^ovff. when wo think of that law, we jdo not think of it^ 
 at leoBit I do B.ot, imd I djoi n.pt. suppose any other person does, 
 iisa,^pat material something, existing independent of other,, 
 ma^ri^, objects, a^d yet in them and through them all at the 
 same tim^. So when we spea^ of the law of mind by which It 
 m,oy<^ we do nqt look at that law as an immaterial something 
 ezisti|ig in the. abstract^ and, yet In all mind, and through aU 
 nupd ajt. the s^^c time. Then what would we naturally con- 
 ceiYje-iit to. hst? Simply this; that the Almig)ity has made it|, 
 poi^ible ^r mind and matter to move under certain circum- 
 stances and rest under others; but in reference to the law of 
 mind, or matter, we arc totally ignorant of its nature an^ 
 manner of opera^on, we know the effects, and are confident 
 ^r^ must pea causq.. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 145 
 
 /Sfec. 5 ; Wc 9ajf thinat move hy the ttill of God. We 
 attempt to satibfy ourselves that these things move by the 
 volitiou o£tbo Creator, which iur jed Ih very tri:o; but what is 
 this ohoioo of God? We cannot say that tbi will, or choice of 
 God exists in a form of matter, or in an abstract form of mind. 
 It is simply the Divine preference, ^11., cl/^ice, decree, d^'cision, 
 that suoh things should move and rest. It is ^n act of the 
 Divine mind, a thought. But how subordinate r ; odd are made 
 to feel the effects of that choice, we know but very little nbout, 
 and much less how matter yields perpe uui submission ;o the 
 dictates of that Sovereign and Almighty will. 
 
 Sec. 6 ; What do we knaw about thu law of attraction t 
 * We also talk about the law of attraction, we know there is such 
 a law, and we say that by virtue of thi^t law one body moves 
 towards another which is a fact in nature that we know, from 
 observation and expeaence, to be true. But what do we know 
 about that law in reference to its nature and mode of operation, 
 and how one body, in virtue thereof, is made to feel that it is 
 smaller than another body, ^r the other body is made to feel 
 that it is the larger oftho t^o? We can diseover nothing 
 that comes from the large body to the small one by which the 
 small body is brought to the surface of the large one, and yet 
 it is evidently drawn there. We say it is drawn by attraction 
 of gravitation, but wiiat is that attraction of gravitation and 
 where does it exist, and what is its mode of existence ? Does 
 it exist in the body, as a separate existence either of ''mind or 
 matter," or below the body, or above it ? Now, it is quite an 
 easy matter to start just such questions as these, and any num- 
 ber of them to prove our ignorance, and these many have the 
 tendency to humble us before Him who knows all things. But 
 to start the question^ ''what is the nature of these thoughts that 
 we have once had," and then to answer it by saying that they 
 must all be ether materifil or immaterial^ proves either great 
 ignorance of the nature of thin^, or a deliberate intention to 
 misrepresent them. For it is not true to say that all thought 
 which we have had exists either as a material thii:<?, or as an 
 immaterial thing ; for no thought exists in us]only while we are 
 thinking, and if we are not thinking we have no thoughts, and 
 if all beings in the universe would cease to think, there would " 
 
 N 
 
146 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 be no thoughts existing ; for if there eotild be thoughts existing 
 "when all beings cease to think, then thinking could take place 
 without rational beings, or without any being at all, and who 
 could believe this contradiction ? Hence, as we before remarked, 
 thinking is an intellectual motion, and an intellectual motion is 
 thinking. The motion exists while moving, and to perceive 
 the fact of that motion requires a new perception, and not a 
 repetition of the same; for this is impossible in the natute of 
 things. 
 
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PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ON PZECEPTIONS, DEMONSTRATIONS, AND IMPOSSIBILITIES. 
 
 Sec. 1 ; The operations of the memortf in perceptions and 
 demonstrations. Much of our time is occupied, and especially 
 in early life, in investigating inta the identity and deversity of 
 thingSi irhich $xe perceived throi^h the senses. For example ; 
 I perceive au agreepieQjj^ between a certain tree in my garden 
 a,nd on§ that I saw in a neighbouring orchard, I perceive also 
 a re}j8^tion between them and the cause of their existence ; yet I 
 dp, not perceive that relation, which exists between the trees 
 and the first cause of their existence, through my senses, I per- 
 ceive th$ tr^e through ^e senses, and tihen reason from the 
 treeff a^ an effect until I arrive at the cause ; and I soon become 
 confident that there is a relation between the cause and the 
 eff«ipt. : Npw, a^er having perqeived an object we m<iy then 
 dose' our eyes and yet remember the si^se, shape, colour, and 
 various dimensions of the object as we understood it when we 
 per^ved it through the sense of sight. This state of mind 
 IS said to be the result of the impression that the thing when 
 first perceived 'm?.de on the mind. We must not forget that 
 when we remember any colour, sayrecZwe must remember a red 
 something, because we cannot remember a red nothing. Now, 
 this that we remember is said to be the image of the original, 
 this is explained to be a notion, an idea, &c., and the meaning 
 is a thought, or a motion of the mind. The original may be 
 out of existence, such as a red house that may be burned down, 
 and utterly destroyed, and it cannot be seen, but when it was 
 perceived first the soul assumed certain modifications adapted 
 thereto, and now it comes to be remembered the soul is resolved 
 into a similar modification, and beconies conscious' that it had 
 modifications before that led to the same results. Thus the soul is 
 led back to the time and place where such ideas were formed 
 
148 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 and entertained,* and it is on this ground that we say the soul 
 perceives the thing in the ^ast, because, it becomes sensible of 
 previous ideas, motions, modifications^ or what elre they may 
 be called, that it once had. 
 
 NoTT, oltbuugli we can mus perceive an oDject in tne pasi ynb 
 \t is never with that,cleai;ness of perception which we see in 
 the present, but the r6as6n is bbvious ; and it is because in the 
 present we have the help of our senses, in the past we have not. 
 But it i^ no less a perception, though not directly of the original 
 object, yet, it is a perception of the iriodification assumed by tho 
 soul at the discovery of the original object. 
 
 1" '^Sed. 2 .* Can d person know that which is gone out of his 
 mind. It is contrary to our theory to suppose it possible for a 
 man to know anything that id not in tke mind, and yet we find 
 by maintaimng this principle we come in contact with the 
 gr^tt philosopher Mr. Locke, on this point, vis., if we under- 
 stand him correctly, for he says : ^^Thus aman thatremembers 
 certainly that he once perceived the demonstration that tihe 
 ihree angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, is certain 
 that he knows it because he oannot doubt the truth of it, in 
 his adherence to a truth, where the demonstration by which it 
 wa^ at first known is forgot, though a man may be thought 
 rather to believe his memory than really to know" and this 
 way of entertaining a truth seemed formerly to me like some- 
 thing between opinion and knowledge ; a sort of assurance which 
 exceeds bare belief, for that relies on the testimony of another ; 
 yet upon a due examination* I find it comes not short of per- 
 fect certainty and is in effect true knowledge. That which is 
 apt to mislead our first thoughts into a mistake in this matter 
 is, that the agreement or disagreement of the ideas in this case 
 is not perceived as it was at first by an actual view of all the 
 intermediate ideas, whereby the agreement or disagreement of 
 the ideas contained in the proposition whose certainty we 
 remember. For example, in this proposition, that the three 
 angles of a triangle are equnl to two right ones, one who has 
 seen and clearly perceived the demonstration of this truth knows 
 it to be true wnen the demonstration is gone out of his mind ; 
 so that at present it is not actually in view and possibly Cannot be 
 QoUeotcd ; but he knows it in a different way from what he did 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 149 
 
 before. Now, it still k<»KS to me that what Mr. Locke calls 
 knowledge, in this case, is not really such as can be relied upon, 
 neither do I think it is anything beyond what it once seemed 
 to that great man, viz., "something between opinion and know-^ 
 ledge, a sort of assurance which exceeds bare belief." And on 
 what principle of philosophy it can be said that a man may 
 know that which is "gone out of his mind," I cannot conceive. 
 For if a man can know one thing that is gone out of his mind, 
 why could he not know another, and so on another, and where 
 would be the stopping place to his knowledge in reference to 
 things thart may be "gone out of his mind." How it is that 
 the " retaining in the mind the conviction without the proof," is 
 intellect to be called true knowledge^ I fail to understand. For 
 what amount of knowledge would a man have more than this ; 
 that the conviction which he now has he OnCe' had before, but of 
 what use will it be to any one to "know that the convictions which 
 he now has, he had before, when at the same time he is not 
 able to satisfy himself whether these convictions are right or 
 wrong. And the uttermost, so far as I can understand it, that 
 can be said of this which is bailed true knowledge is; it is 
 merely supposition, excepting the existence of the conviction. 
 For to know that such conviction exists in our mind that such 
 a demonstration is true, and to kkiow the truth of such demon* 
 straAion, are entirely different things. Therefore, an individual 
 who merdy knovt^ that he has a convidtion titat he once coq-^ 
 eluded that ac^ain demonstration was true knows no more 
 about the truth of the demonstration than if he had not this 
 convictioQ* ' . 
 
 JSec, ^ ; : ImpotsihU to Tenow anything which is out of tki 
 mind. Mr. Locke says on page 341 of his essay on the humail 
 understanding, that "One whohaa seen and dearly perceived 
 the ilemonstration of this truth, knows it to be true when that 
 demonstration is gone out of his mind." Now, we are at a loss 
 to understand how that any person can know the truth of any 
 proposition, and not be able to perceive that truth. For how 
 caii ittbe said that a man knows a demonstration to be true 
 which he cannot perceive, any more than it could be said that 
 a man perceives a demonstration to be true which he does not 
 know ? For if the demonstration is gone out of his mind it is 
 clear that he knows nothing of that demonstration, while it 
 
150 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 remains out of his mind, because, remaining out of his mind is 
 the same as not perceiving it. 
 
 Any person who may have seen for the first time' the propo- 
 sition demonstrated "that tlie three angles of a triangle are 
 equal to two right ones" perceives there and then the truth from 
 the demonstration, so that he may be said to know it. But 
 the mind passes on the wing of time and leaves that whole 
 circumstance, and will never see that demonstration again only 
 in the past, and inasmuch as the demonstration, oiiginally, 
 presented the truth, held the truth, and was the truth when it 
 was first discovered, and held the mind to the truth during 
 that discovery, and refuses to be separated in the present ; so 
 it appears to be just as impossible for any man to perceive the 
 truth in the past, that is to remomber, without perceiving the 
 demonstration also , an it is for him to perceive the truth in 
 the present time without perceiving the demonstration ; as the 
 truth and the demonstration are inseparable both in the present 
 and in the past. I leave every person who may entertain a 
 jdoubt of the philosophy of what we have here stated to try 
 the experiment and see that notwithstanding subsequent con- 
 clusions of the truth of such demonstration which he may, from 
 time to time have formed in his mind, yet whenever that truth 
 is called in question he finds himself not r^ng in thci sabee- 
 quent conclusions of his mind for the trutJi of such demonstra- 
 tions, but invariably he finds his p^eeptive faculty back to 
 the very time and in the very place where the demonstration 
 was originally made. If a man has never seen the demonstra- 
 tion made he has never perceived the truth of that proposition, 
 thei^fore he doed not know it, yet he niay believe it to be larue 
 from what he has heard others say, but his belief dees not consti- 
 tute true knowledge, though tarue knowledge can never ignore 
 belief; for if a man believes a thing, he may be correct, or he 
 may not be, but if a man knows a thing, he knows it, and must 
 believe it also, hence, the advantage of knowledge over tkat of 
 belief. And therefore our conclusion is tha6 it is impossible 
 for any man to remember the truth of the demonstrdtmn tJiat 
 '*tlie three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones," with- 
 out remembering the proofs by which the demonstration was 
 made, and so also is it impossible to remember that such proofs 
 were once before the mind without remembering the proofs 
 themselves. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 161 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 UNIVERSALITY OP THE LAWS OP MEMORY'. 
 
 \ 
 
 ' Sec 1 .• Memory in all beings governed hy the name general 
 taws. Wo may proceed to remark now tfeat the law of relation, 
 to which allusion has |)reviously been made in connection with 
 anothelr topic, has a powerful and commanding influence over 
 the memory of tlio lower animals. This is proved from obser- 
 vation, thus ; the horse which has been the subject of a severe 
 discip»line discovers in the hand of his driver a whip and though 
 itma,y not be the same which the driver has been accustomed 
 to use, nevertheless the relation between that whip and the one 
 with which the a,nimalhas so often been severely striped brings 
 to its rememberance the painful sensations produced by the 
 unmerciful use of the instrument ; and which remembrance is 
 evificed by the terrot and feAr manifested by the creature, in 
 his eyv >, eats, and more especially in the trembling of his linibs. 
 Tne evident marks of pleasurable anxiety exhibited at Ihe sound 
 of his master approacmng the corn bin, and the very different 
 feelings manifested at uie sight of the harness, Efaddle and 
 bridle is enough to conceive any one that the law of relation 
 operates forcibly on and governs the memory of the lower ani- 
 mals. It is on this same principle that tho dog will endeavour 
 to abf^oond himself at the sight of a gun, providing he has ever 
 been shot. The sight of the gun, though it may not be the 
 same gun with SThich he was shot, but there is a relation 
 between that and all oiher gnns, and the dog perceives that 
 relation, and he is fii'om that circumstance made to remember 
 the painful fact of having once been shot. The elephant knows 
 the voice of his keeper, on the same principle of relation between 
 the sound of that voice which now speaks to him and that 
 voice which spoke to him an hour ago or yesterday. It is 
 therefore evident that the Ibwer animals not only possess memory 
 
152 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 but that their memory, as we have before shown, being the 
 same in kind with that of the human family h alsij governed 
 by the same law of rolatiori. But there evidently is a great 
 difference among the lower animals in the i . ongth of their 
 roemories, and many of them not only shov great retentiveness 
 hat gi'Pat discrimination, cunning, judgment, and at times 
 appear to display a considerable amount of reason. But we 
 have njt time to discUss this subjeot here, neither does it pro- 
 perly belong to a work of this kind, but we will give one 
 example*'bearing directly on the point under consideration, viz. : 
 a few years ago a circumstance was noticed in our public papers 
 in reference to a certain man, giving his name and place of 
 residence, who lived by the side of extensive woods, missed his 
 child, and fearing it might be lost in the forest, proceeded at 
 once in search of it, but had not gone far before he saw ai heap 
 of leaves under which he found his lost child, he took the child 
 and in its place put a chunk of wood, about the size of the 
 child, and covered it with leaver, and being suspicious of foul 
 play, waited, to see the result, which was in a few moments, a 
 most dreadful howling as if all the wdves in the forest were 
 cpnuing upon ^im. Y^ry soon one of the company darted fr;,^^ 
 ti^ thicket and sprang to the place where the child had been 
 covered :with loaves, and conunenced with furious anadety to 
 uncover its intendeHd victini, but to its extreme mostifioation 
 noting was there but the chunk of wood, he cringed down 
 as if h^ \akew his fate, while his conirades imniediately fellujSbn 
 him.j ap4 tore him limb from Unib an4 devoured him. We 
 may Ii^^rn from this circumstance : (1 ) The pofwer of memory, 
 the wolf knew where the child was laid, and could go to the 
 very, pxaai spot. (2) This power of oaleulation, or reasoning, 
 he h^acl eaught the child asleep and knew him to be asleep, and 
 had carefully covered him up that he might continue his repose 
 till he could q^ together his companions when he would have 
 the honour of treating them to a sumptuous feast. (3) His 
 sen^e of shame at his disappointment led him to look abashedjhis 
 power JLr anticipate led him to fear the consequences of having 
 been the cause of such deceiving the company then present 
 and frowning with rage, f^nd his power of discrimination and 
 judgment led him to conclude there was no possible way for 
 his escape^ from the death which he intended to inflict upon his 
 innocent victim, therefore he cringed, and without a struggle 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 153 
 
 passively aubmitted to his melancholy and unwelcome fate. 
 Hundreds of instances of a similar character might be noticed 
 did we judge it necessary, to corroborate the sentiments which 
 we have advanced relating to the lower animals. 
 
 S!^ 
 
 WJi 
 
 y »«^ hrtnp, discussed this subject at such length. 
 
 Our object in dwelling on thjs subjeci as icuj^th^ aa fro lia>o 
 done is : (1) To call attention to the (livine benevolence. (2) 
 To notice and discuss the identity of the principle by which all 
 beings are able to think and temember. (3^) To show that though 
 it is the same in kind, yet there is a vast difference in the 
 degree of that immaterially, without which ftot even the smallest 
 of Gk)d's creatures can think or remember one sentence. (4) 
 Though all that think and remember mtlst posseiss niihd, 
 Ijecause matter cannot think, yet it does not necessarily fbllow 
 >hat all beings must always live that possess immateridity, 
 (6) That the ineonsistency of fiupposing that the lower 
 ftnimals are necessarily endowed wi(^ miiid ^y which they 
 remember, is nothing compared with thiat theory which relpre- 
 sents them as thinkirig and jremiembeHng '#!thout mind. (]6) 
 To admit, as iteany ^o, that tiiey possess mind by which they 
 remember and yet do not possess immateiriality is, iri effect to 
 admit, that there is something that can think besides spirit, 
 iK>mething that exists ifei th& intennediate between mina and 
 
 tnatteri 
 
 •>)'w V 
 
 
154 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 !i' 
 
 ,• \ 
 
 •v 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO THE YOUNG. 
 
 See. 1 : We purpose now to direct our remarks more paf- 
 tioularly to young people, and many of you, my young friends, 
 will, I presume, look upon me as being ^' far behind ^hetimes^" 
 seeing that somo things that; I shall be compelled to say in 
 addresdng you, may be unpalatable to your, taste, who prefer 
 a short 1& of fun, of fr(dio, of levity and vanity, not, to say of 
 dissipation an^pi?o^}igaoy, to a Ions Hie of steady habits, of 
 health and virtue. ; But we intend to introduce her^ a ,|ew 
 rules, which if adopted and carried out, will be of unspfsakable 
 befiefit to all who are dfi8tmm<9fiderjiyii^t^jbwe)l^?;€^ 
 
 . ' .. 'i '.- ' -j^^'Mj ■<-.■ ,■' ;,•■■.■ 'mil -U'^i^i ■■ 
 
 ^ec,%: Ride the fitatt intefest %ntfmhg9* Remember your 
 happiness for the present time depends to a great extent on the 
 amount of interest you may have in things from which happi- 
 ness can be drawn. In order to this you must learn to 
 exercise your own judgment, but seek advice and counsel from 
 the experieUced within your reach. The trouble with young 
 people generally is, that just as soon as they enter their teens, 
 and stretch a little above the boy and girl that they feel them- 
 selves to be full grown, and generally think that they know 
 more than father, mother, and friends. Now this is going too 
 fast, advice is offered, but refused ; instruction presented, but 
 disregarded ; in their hurry how can they stop, they will risk 
 it all, and so thousands of them do till they run their heads 
 against a snag, which alone can open their eyes and cause them 
 to cry out for help. Now, we admire inde])endence but this is 
 too much of it. Do not think yourself to be the only judge of 
 what is best for you at all times, but yield not the right of 
 private judgment, only exercise it with great caution. You 
 
 m 
 do 
 
 of'^ 
 the 
 
 sup] 
 
 poll 
 
 puri| 
 
 tone 
 
 on 
 
 gen< 
 
 in 
 
 faile 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 155 
 
 .)C 
 
 ..»> 
 
 will find it to be a nice point to guard those extremes, and keep 
 the mind in a proper equilibrium, but it is possible. Never 
 tell anybody, as thousands do, " I have a very poor memory," 
 it may be in a certain sense true, but it is a kind of truth that 
 one had better keep toliimself, for allowing that it is none of 
 our own fault, there is nothing to be gained by it, and if it 
 should happen to be that the blame is in us, it only brings public 
 disgrace on our own heads, while We become the accuser, the 
 judge, and the jury. And besides, it has discouraging tenden- 
 cies for a person always to be crying out against himself, and if 
 we depreciate ourselves before others, we virtually invite them 
 to depreciaip us also, and to which the majority of them will 
 not be backward to respond. If you look down upon yourself 
 ypu must expect others will 166k down upon you. Look up 
 then, and feel that you can be somebody, feel that you can be 
 grej^t, and resolve that you will be good; place your target in 
 the clouds, and if you never reach it, after you ja^ve tried and 
 tried again, yQu will have the satisfaction that you aimed at it 
 and aspired towards it, and you will certainly shoot higher than 
 if ^^ou had only pl|U)ed your mark upon a molehill. Ever beaj? 
 in mitid that knowlisdg^ is within your reach, call it yours^ and 
 do not think so little of your sou! as to entertain the idea that 
 you have a poor memory, which is almost equal to saying you 
 have a dull apprehension, a lazy discrimination, and a want of 
 i;|itere3t in things relating \o practical purposes, 
 
 &c, 2 .* tSeteciions. " Hark the perfect man," is the advice 
 of the highest authority in the universe, You must be observ- 
 ing, take notice of men and things, not merely for the purpose 
 of ridicule, or personal gratification for the time being, out for 
 the purpose of making profit out of daily occurrences. An,d 
 anv course of p6licy in temporal matters which you may see, or 
 credibly hear, to have failed in others to secure their tempotrat 
 support and comfort, mark that and train the memory on that 
 point, and compare such cases with others engaged in « similar 
 pursuit, and see if the failure is general, viz., U)ck at the general 
 tendencies of the business, or pwicy, and if it is, do not venture 
 on such enterprise under such circumstances, because if men 
 generally fail, you being young could hardly expect to succeed 
 in an enterprise where older heads and maturer minds have 
 failed, nevertheless you might succeed, but it is too much of a 
 
-r 
 
 150 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 risk for you to run ; because your reputation is at stake, and if 
 ^on make so >jreat a blunder and lose that in almost your first 
 outset, you will get very much discouraged. And this is apt 
 to be the case with such tremendous failures, because young 
 people generally express themselves more positively at 20 years 
 old, than they do at 40, and the reason is because they think 
 they know so much more, and when they come to fail after feel- 
 ing so sure that they know more than seven men that can 
 render a reason, they feel so ashamed that sometimes they fall 
 ^.ctually below their proper place in life, because they go to the 
 cher extreme, and whereas they first thought they knew almost 
 everything, they have now got to think they know almost 
 nothing, Bk)th those extremes may be avoided with a moderatoi 
 degreis of care, and attention to counsel and advice, which no 
 jonng person in this enlightened age and land need be without^ 
 
 ^0.3; Economy. Make a proper and wise distribution 
 pf all you have to bestow, and here you will find a very extensive 
 field^^r intellectual aotiop ; but we have time only to notice a 
 few of the more important items embraced in this departn^ent. 
 Be sure at all events to make a proper use of words, yeu will 
 fipd this, and eispecially at your stage of life, to be of the utter-* 
 mos^ consequence ; for men have not anything near as many 
 words to tmrpw away tp no good purpose as they generally seem 
 to think they have. Do not get the habit of using your 
 ^ords to waste and speaking them at random for the sake of 
 saying a great deal. You must try at all times to remember 
 that \i is not the greatest talkers that perceive the most, for 
 many who talk a great deal have no more meaning or perception 
 of a great portion of what they say than a parrot or a jackdaWs 
 No doubt you will wish to be pleasing in your appearance, 
 Prffable in your manner, and agreeable in company, and to do 
 80 you will have to converse in the so(»al circle. But after all 
 I think you will find it better in the long run, both for yourself 
 and others, to be a little unpopular with the mass than to have 
 to purchase their popularity at such a dear rate, as to have all 
 the while you are in their company to be talking about a 
 thousand things that arc of no benefit for the sake of what they 
 pall being sociable. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOBY. 
 
 157 
 
 See. 4 ; Time. Time, who can tell ite value, and the 
 Client of ita abuse ? Time itself, and pen and ink, and muscle 
 and mind, wotld fkil tb tell the thonaandth pari of die violent, 
 deliberate, and wilful abaaea of that praeioua peari which the 
 divine behurhaa kind^ «qndnued to man ^r wiae and ^ocious 
 purpoeea. To make a i)roper use of time, be regular in your 
 habita, be syatematioal, and let no Otrdinary n^atter disconcert 
 jour plan ; but you will have to learn to a«y no^ or you will be 
 robbed ^f much vakiable informadon, of mneh real enjoyment 
 and uaefulnefls in t^ lilb, <of teaotiorai' means, of political influ- 
 onoe, of intellectnal and moral worth; and may peril the im- 
 mot tol soul sX death. Alwaya make ii a point in reading to 
 seleot, ts yott «aniiot ekpeet to rememJMT all that you might 
 read in half an hour itself, but that am«unt of veadine. has, to 
 spefd^ iiffuratitely, a body and a soal, take the sonl tor yours 
 and paok it in as small acottipass as jo« ooaj but be sure and| 
 get It) do not mind the wonla so mvclt, but get the sense, 
 examine it thoronghly, 4igeat k fully, and you will remember 
 it perfectly. • But let not even thisamoll ambuikt of that time 
 wmch yon will require to makeyottrseif staster of the substance 
 of 'half an hojir'e reading, be left to ^fmnee; <tBke a«ertain time 
 to muse on these, and review them at regular intervals. You 
 may learn a lesson from the natural incunation of the body, 
 that is. to say^ it likes re^ar exercise, regular rest, regular 
 supplies of nutritious food, regular action of the blood, liver, 
 stomach, &c., in order to preserve it in a healthy condition, and 
 so the mind requires regular mental treatment to give a healthy 
 tone to all its faculties. Some peo|^le^ in their temporal matters 
 never seem to know or care anything about regularity in diet, 
 and therefore they have alwayb either a feast or a famine ; and 
 so it is with many in reforenoe to the mind. 
 
 Sec. 5 .: jfdlenm. Remember this term, and understand 
 ^ts meaning. Look at those who are idlers in any Respect, but 
 especially those thai are idle in all respects for usefm purj^ses, 
 and you will sooin see what amount of wealth and influence they 
 possess^ ai^d remember thi^t '/ the diligent hand maketh rich«" 
 You cannot fail 't<) see as y^u pass throtugh life, the diversity 
 tkat there ig ii^ mien's eircumstanoes. You will find some Very 
 poor, ai|i their, poverty will iomish useful employment for 
 ' your discrimination, judgpaent, and memory.- Inquire after 
 
 t. * 1...- ...... ^ . ^ 
 
 9. . 
 
X58 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OP THE MEMORY. 
 
 tbe cause of this dsstituiioa. And if it pt^ves to be the result 
 of idleness, bad «0OBQBiy in domestio matters, or eztravaganoo 
 out doors, to it will very o^ten be fbund to rosolt from one or 
 more of these, or simiUrqauseB, you should tty to make capital 
 out of their Boaroity. , And if Uiib poveiiv Upon oloiie exami- 
 nation proves to be Providential, you will still lose nothing, 
 but will be amply rewarded *for the painii you have token ; for 
 every such observatioB addi to y«ur atorc of knowledge and 
 strengthens the memory, faesidee, it has h natural tendency to 
 inspire a thoughtful mind like what yours^ reader, ought to 
 be, and what we hopei il i8,'With;:g]^UtudB! to the Di vino 
 Pisposer of events, that you are in better ciit umstanoes. The 
 aumemay be said in regard. tOt tjm wiji^ fiw thou^yon are 
 young, yet you, havies.Miii a gteat ditversiiy in inteUectual 
 acquirements.. Some are ignotoAt ef ajbnost: overyi uaefiil topic, 
 and strangers to the true philosophy of almost every isubject, 
 both in politiqs, civil gwrernm^t, ^^ morals, both theoretical 
 and practical. In soieioe«a94 it» xeligipt. And to make great 
 improvement, which yoitMigkt to make^ and leom wisdom from 
 the defects of others, yoU wul ^neod to remember distinctly this 
 diversity, and» at mHcb.aft|K)a9)ble» the.reiteons why. : * 
 
 Sed. Q; .AocidmU.. Another great subject; is that of 
 accidents, which, ^rom.the ameuatol* suffering they entail upon 
 mankind, -caU with a trumpet voice upon evexy intelligent 
 being to labour hard to ascertain their causes. And here I 
 be^ to iepeat,.for I wisK this, fact to take a firm hold upon the. 
 mind, Umt you oaiiQOt pireaerve a profitable remembrance of the 
 particulars of this, npr ind^ any other subject, without close 
 observation and laboured ';d^imination ittp current circum- 
 stances — if you wish tO ; know what has \>Qfi»ytiake notice &/ 
 wJmt is. 
 
 Si^pose your occupation to be that of afarmer, you of course 
 would like to prosper in your business; to do so you will find 
 it to your advantage to observe with careful inquiry into the 
 amount of lofees which this class of men sustain . in the course 
 qf One year, and endeavour to asoertain by an impartial inves- 
 tigation, what portion of them occur through carelessness an4 
 neglect, and what are purely accidefttalj and what appear to 
 ije providential, TJ^is, tpo, vyill give great scope to the qzs>x^ 
 
 % ♦ -J 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THB MEMORY. 
 
 150 
 
 eise of our sympathy ; for the more we sympathize with our 
 fellow-man id hia trouble, whatever may be its oauae, the more 
 likely we shall be to inywitigato into the true nature and real 
 oause thereof, and the more apt we shall be to remember it and 
 profit by it Now, the benefits of the oourse here reeommend- 
 od will, perhaps, be more appreeiated 'if we should suppose a 
 ease, say; a team of hor«e8 Deeome undianageable and run 
 violently dOwn a atee» hill, and upaet the wafgon; one man is 
 killed, (Ifiother has a broken leg, ai»^er a 4idoeaited shoulder, 
 and another wiUvfvitotuired mnlL This «ircui|kstaAoe would 
 be called by different names, by some it would be. called a 
 ProvideaiQiD, by'Othctn^^ian aooident^ Which appears to answer a 
 kiad'of medium'efifplailMidn between Protijenoe and crireless- 
 ness, ^at some utofor .th^: j^Uf|fose: of a^Dkivg responsibility 
 on the one hand, and/.iilgraoe^i 00 the other. But suppose 
 upon striot investigation we find tho^iycr was* intoxicated, or 
 the hjarnem partly broken t and- gilto way just at Uiat time, and 
 caused the; imisfortutie, ot the tongue, too short which threw the 
 carriage again^t the hofti^, <te iflfilnething of a, similar nature ; 
 now, however we mity > be* -dvqH^e^ iA sympathise with the 
 sufferers, and however anxioiti tiiey ' may be to evade the 
 responsibility, we are forced to the conclusion that the* whole 
 was the result of carelessness. But the object oi sueh observa- 
 tion should always be to find out the truth of anv case, if it is 
 otherwise, we injure the memory and lay the roundation for 
 what we call a " treacherous memory ; no digression from the 
 plain simple truth should be allowed, however small that 
 departure may be, no partial examination should be allowed to 
 pass for a fUll one, no palliation should be admitted where the 
 circumstances of the case do not< fully call for it. The losses 
 which many sustain in their stock and growing crops, and of 
 which they so bitterly complain, are traceable directly to them- 
 selves, and to find out these, things and reflect thereon will 
 eontribute greatly to our physical and intellectual comfort, and 
 add increased strength to our memory. 
 
 But by making these observations you will see wherein others 
 have failed and the cause of these failures, and you will see 
 plainer than ever, that, unless by strict economy and industry 
 you become enabled to acquire and collect means, your benevo- 
 lence will be completely crippled and unable to bestow anything 
 
160 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 ■i ■ 
 
 to charitable purposes bat Bamply a few expressions of kindness 
 and good wishes, such as : I wudk it was in my power to help, I 
 wish you evei^ success, I hope you wilt be able to locomplish 
 your projeot, if I Was as well off as m^ &^ one, I would give 
 freely and liberally ;' these and mauy others of a similar nature 
 which will neve^ send the bible to heathen lands nor destitute 
 christians, nor^eteissionaiy to preach and expound its sacred 
 •truths, nor build ehapdls, nor support our own miihistnr, no^ 
 purchase sabbath-sdiool libtarieS) nor, in fact, help tit all^ in liny 
 way, the iuEititutions of b^nevolenoe and t^igioaij <'v ; 
 
 If the crops fail throtigh a course of seasoni^, if a certain kind 
 of sickness comes td be common in a fhmily, if billious complaints 
 generally prevail in a certain looaUtyy '^ou; will know, of course, 
 that therein a cause; and while you '«rs not to forget Uife all 
 important truth that thi^i*e is an overrufing'Provid^i^, at the 
 same time never allow, yourself t<i Attribute that to Providence, 
 that is, to the special interference of the Almiehty^ thk iean be 
 traced to a natural cause. For by doiu^ tms you will injure 
 the intellect, |iervert the 'judgment, and weaken, in a' great 
 measure, the action of the moral fiiculty? • • 
 
 h^ 
 
 ■Jin 
 
 it. r .ir ', . I ■'.■'' ' .' 
 
 ■ i ■; ■■ . ■ 
 
 • :;t i»'ftv; 
 
 iuiV '->"■/ ■ ;■ 
 
 .»•/«' 
 
 r trrll 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMOI^y. " 161 
 
 1.-. ftm; ^.i''W . i'n«-.:' '' . 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 I ...* 
 
 ''W'if'W^ iMPORTAiiciS te p'Ri^Eii^iw good iiEAi/ni. 
 
 Sec. 1 ; All desire good health. There are none who jiic 
 entitled to he called rational heings, that do not desire to enjoy 
 good health, although, in too many instances, they arc utterly 
 regardless of those great leading principles and their subordi- 
 nate dependencies, which should be observed to secure that end. 
 And a^ we know, this to be the case^ and cannot but feel grieved 
 for those who, volunteer .to become victims of irregular habits, 
 that invariably deprive tliem of personal enjoyment, health, and 
 long life, we venture a few remark^ on this subject, especially 
 so &r as it may relate to the imprpv^uient of the memory. 
 
 Sec. 2; Physical h'lalth contributes to the health of the 
 mind. Now, there is scarcely a person to be found, who has 
 any r^ard for morality and religion, but will admit that the 
 great object of human life is to get good to ourselves and to do 
 good to others ; and that the more good we can obtain in this 
 life, and the more good we can do to others, the better we shall 
 answer the end of our creation. If this be true, a.'id if our 
 usefulness in this life depends in any degree upon the health of 
 our bodies, and every one, who has even a moderate knowledge 
 of the purposes and practices of human life, knows that it does 
 to a very great extent ; it therefore becomes our imperative 
 duty to preserve and improve, by every rational and lawful 
 means, the health of the body. That physical health contri- 
 butes much to the strength of the memory, will be perceived 
 when the intimate connection of mind and matter is taken into 
 consideration. Because it must be evident to all, that the 
 health of the body tends very much to presence a healthy and 
 vigorous intellect. And while the health of the body is condu- 
 cive to a healthy intellect so also does a healthy intellect, under 
 
162 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 proper manBgement^ contribute very much to a healthy state 
 of the moral faculty. Not that all persons who possess a bright, 
 clear, and active mtelleot, have purity of loorality in proportion 
 thereto^ beeause they can pervert the moral sense, and such 
 persons when so disposed can do it effeefcually ; but we simply 
 mean that a person cannot possibly have a very high sense of 
 moral obligation, who is seriously defeotive in any of the intel- 
 lectual faculties. Thus, if a person is defective in discrimina- 
 tiou, or what we would call natural discernment, every one may 
 see how this defect, in the same proportion as it may be found 
 to exist in that department of the mind, will affect the desires, 
 the imagination, the will, the conscience, and the memory. 
 
 Sec. 3: The ohj^idf tJttse remarks. Now, what we wish 
 to impress upon the mind of the reader is: (1) The intimate 
 connection between the memory and every faculty of the soul. 
 (2) The impossibility of injuring any part or faculty of the 
 soul without doing a proportionate injur; to the memory. (3) The 
 intimacy that exists between the whole mind, and consequently 
 between every faculty which makes up that loJiole, and the 
 physical man. (4) The necessity of presendng the health of 
 the body to secure a vigorous and active mind, and a strong 
 and " retentive" memory. (5) The importance of a proper 
 and timely culture of the intellect to secure a high sense of 
 morality; and finally, the necessity of a high sense of moral 
 oblig.ation to render us truly and permanently useful, as well 
 as to secure to ourselves a liffe of real enjoyment in this world, 
 and eternal happiness in that which is to come. From what 
 h^s been said, and from what eVery ordinary mind can see, 
 might be gaid, itralist be 6bvii3us t^at in tfhe same proportion 
 as we injure oar bodily brgans, v^hether by idleness, intemper- 
 ance, undue eitpo^ures and want of proper protection, or exces- 
 sivo bodily exertions, or whatetei' else, ^e throw obstructions 
 in the way of our mental progteSS,; ai^d i^dn^quently greatly 
 paralyze the memory. '' ' '. * • ' '^ < * 
 
 Sec. 4 ; Be careful what habits you contract. This being 
 the case it becomes itnportant, and I think I may venture to 
 add indispensible, for young people who do not wish to live in 
 ignorance, but who desire to enjoy life and make the best of it, 
 and who do not wish to be looked upon by the intelligent as 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 163 
 
 i 
 
 intellectual dwarfs, and who feel too proud to acknowledge they 
 have to depend on others for the greatest part of their small 
 stock of information which they collect from day to day, but 
 who would like to take their part with men of genius, of mind, 
 of learning, of influence, and great prominence, such as states- 
 men, poets, philosophers, and orators, and to understand 
 theoretical and practical science, to be able to oonv«r«e freely 
 and Intelligently on all useful and interesting topics, to lefrain 
 from the use of every article of food and uniiecessary stimulant 
 that is calculated to produce nervous debilUy, or to |*event the 
 regular action of any of the internal organs. Be careful then 
 to contract no such habits as the following, and if you have, 
 break off at once : the use of spirituous liquorp. of tobacco in any 
 of its forms, such as smoking, chewing, and snuffing, of strong 
 green tea, black is not so hurtful, but cold water is better, it 
 possesses a great tonic, try it. Pork is not fit to eat at all for 
 persons of sedentary habits and weakly constitutions. See how 
 much the great Dr. Adam Olarke thought of tliese two articles 
 that form the principal luxu- r '^ of quite a large portion of man- 
 kind. It is said that he was heard io express himself on s certain 
 occasion thus : *' If I had a disposition to offer a sacrifiee to the 
 devil, it should be a hog stuffed with tobacco." Goodeaough, 
 you are re&dy to say, i i/lso indeed it is, but if they are only fit 
 for that, what shall wf; say ? Irregular rest and diet are making 
 dreadful havoc among our young people, and amongst the better 
 class too, men are living entirely too fast, but no warning voice 
 appears to be sufficient '«:o stop theu^, needless self-indulgences so 
 hurtful to our intellect, our heidth,' and morals, appear to 
 have resolved themselves into an institution, and become the 
 order of the d«y. Now, the regular Uese of any of those articles 
 that I have mentioned, with others of a similar character, and 
 especially the constant use of all of them, which is quite a com- 
 mon thing in rmr day of boasted intellectual improvements, 
 cannot fail eventually to weaken the intellectual iaculties. 
 
164 PlflLOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY 
 
 r'lxynnrj ■>. r -.jri.f. 
 
 .atJMOvn 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 i.} i - ^i J> 
 
 CokTAINTNG A PTil% fcXl*RACTS AOT) * iiTAXlMS. 
 
 b. 
 
 ilfoo^m 1.' Tbiak much and pray nuich) and let your wordH 
 be few, and uttered with seriouenew and deliberation a« in Ood's 
 presenoe. And yet regard may be had to tim^a and seasons. 
 We may innocently act the child with children, which in the 
 presence of grown persons would have the appearance of thought- 
 lessness and levity. ! 
 
 \i 
 
 1 ( ' ».' 
 
 c'fVUU.}' 
 
 Maxim 2. There are many^peVsons who* would willingly be 
 christians, and eminent christians too, if Christianity were 
 limited to great occasions. For such occasions they call forth 
 whatever pious and devotional resources they have lor seem to 
 have, and not only place them in the best light, but inspire them, 
 for ^ time being, with the greatest possible efficiency. But on 
 smaller oecaaions, in the every day boourrencea and events of Ufe, 
 the religions principle is in a state of dormancy, giving no signs 
 of effective vitality and movement. . Th^ /life of such persons is 
 not like thatof the sun, equable, constant, difEosive, and ben^> 
 cenly though attracting but little notice, but like the eruptive and 
 ghuriDg biaie of volcanoes, which comes forth ait remotej^ods, 
 in oempany with great thi'-Tderings and shakings of the earth; 
 and yet the hearts of ihe people are not made glad by it. Such 
 religion m vain, and its possessors know not what manner of 
 spirit they are of. 
 
 Maxim 3 ; In proportion as the heart becomes sanctified, 
 there is a diminished tendency to enthusiasm and fanaticism. 
 And this is undoubtedly one of the leading tests of santifica-^ 
 tion. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 165 
 
 Masdm 4 / It is not high cr^es suoh as robbery and mur- 
 der which dearoy the pea^e of society. The Tillage gossip, 
 jealousies, fiunily quarrels, and biokerings between neighbours^ 
 meddlesoaienesBy and tattiii^, are Ihe wormu that eat into all 
 sottial'happiness/J'f'''^"'"''' ^^ i'w hnn ,!iti/-nT.it ,!•,»>' 
 
 Maseim 5? Of laws. The Taw of honour consists of a set 
 of maxims^ written orundi^rst^M>d, by which persons of a certain 
 class agree to f^ulate, or are egcpecti^ to reflate their conduct. 
 It is evident that 'the obligation of the law of honour, as such, 
 results exclusively from the a^i^ment, tacit or expressed, of the 
 parti^ concerned. It binds them because they have agreed to 
 be'boubd, and fiw no other rehson. He who does not chOosc 
 to be Tafiked dmohgst the subjects of the law of honour, is under 
 nci obligation to obey its rules. 
 
 '"'^The law of nations, so far as it is founded uji)on the principles 
 of morality^ partakes of that authority which those principles 
 possess; so rar as it is founded merely upon the mutual con- 
 ventions of siates, it posisesses that authority over the contract- 
 ing parties whidi results from the rule, that men ought to abide 
 by their engagements. The principal considerations which 
 present themselves upoii the subject appears to be these :-^' 
 
 (1) That tiie law of nations is binding upon those states 
 who knowingly allow tliemselves to be regarded as parties to it. 
 
 ^2) That it is wholly nugatory with respect to those states 
 Which are iiot parties to it. 
 
 ■ ■ '. ■ ' . ■ ■ . >:'.t ;ir«iw ■ :' 
 
 (3) That it is of no force in opposition to the moral law. 
 
 Maxim 6 .• The moral law should always be regarded as 
 paramount to every other law. The will of Gk)d, the only right 
 and safe rule of human actions, is to be ascertained principally 
 from the Christian Scriptures. Information it is true mav be 
 clraVm from other sources, and rules for human conduct laid 
 down, but they are all subordinate, arid must be subjected to 
 the decisions of the j>iora] law. 
 
166 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 
 Maxim 7 ; "Do violence to ho ioiaxi/' thei-efore never mis- 
 represent them if you know it, never try to depreciate your 
 neighbour, your brother, or Mend, nor even m enemy, as you 
 will be no real gainer therdby, even though these might sustain 
 some loss. Seek for truth, and seek it ardently, earnestly, and 
 perseveringly, and at any amount of cost, both of time, means, 
 and mental exertion, because U it truth* While we regard the 
 natural rights of other^ we should at th% same time always regard 
 their feelings, and especially their character, as a matter of right 
 and justice to them, foi w^ have no more right to slander thdr 
 character than we have to shfcd their blood ! 
 
 Civil Law. The authority of «ivil govemmeifit as 4 dictittor 
 of individual conduct is exj^icitly mteertained in the New 
 Testament. See Homans xiii. and 1 Peter ii. 17. By 
 this general sanction of civil government a multitude of ques- 
 tions respecting human duty are at once decided. In ordinary 
 cases, he upon whom the magistrate imposes a law needs not 
 to seek for knowledge of his duty on the subject from a higher 
 source. The Divine will is suffieiently indicated by the fact 
 that the magistrate commands. Obedience to the law is obedi- 
 ence to the expressed will of Ood. "Submit yourselves to every 
 ordinance of mar? for the Lord's sake, whether it be to the king 
 as supreme ^ or unto governors," &c., see 1 Peter ii. 13 and 16. 
 But the anthority of eivii government, it should be remembered, 
 is only a bubordinate authority. If from any cause the magis- 
 trate enjoins that which is prohibited by the moral law, the 
 duty of obedience i» withdrawn. "All human authority ceases 
 at the point where obedience becomes criminal." The reason 
 is simple ; that when the magistrate enjoins that which is 
 criminal he has exceeded his power, "the Minister of God has 
 3 commission." — Dimond' " 
 
 beyond 
 
 Essay. 
 
 He who knows hie ignorance is the possessor of the rarest 
 kind of valuable knowledge. 
 
 There is no such thing as an easy chair for a disoontented 
 man ; yet, "a contented mind is a continual feast." 
 
 Economy is no disgrace ; it is much better living on a iittl) 
 than outliving a great deal. 
 
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MEMORY. 
 
 16T 
 
 It has been said, and truthfully that we can earn genuine 
 manhood only by serving out ^xthfally the period of boyhood. 
 
 Some people will never learn anything^ for this reason, because 
 they understand everything too soon, 
 
 A good word is an easy obligation ; but not to speak ill only 
 requires our silence, ^hich costs us nothing. 
 
 The pleasantest Uiuags m the world are pleasant thoughts ; 
 and the greatest art in Ufe is to have as many of them as possible. 
 
 Ingratitude is a crime so shanuiful, that the man was never 
 yet found who would acknowledge himself guilty of it. 
 
 Pitch upon that course of life that is the most excellent, and 
 habit will render it the most delightfuU 
 
 Work your passage, for if you wait for others to advance your 
 interests in this world, you will have to wait so long that your 
 interests will not be worth advancing at all. 
 
 A man should never be ashamed to own he has been in the 
 wrong ; whieh is but saying in other words, that he is wiser 
 to-day than he was yesterday. 
 
 One of the sadest things about human nature is, that a man 
 may guide others in the path of life, without walking in it him- 
 self, that he may be a pilot, and yet a castaway. 
 
 END, 
 
I- 1^.