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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 i qu( hui vid . ha& gre tau the ere the the 'str< 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 ^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ^ .^V 1.0 1.1 1.25 1^ us ■■i ■^B m ■3.2 |2? m Its 1. 1. ^ ■;£ 1^ 1.4 II 1.6 6" 'm ^1^ PhotDgraphic Sciences Corporalion 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WIBSTIR,N.Y. MSM (716) •72-4503 d ^ SS <^ 4 ^A' ^j.^ (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. ^ i^k ■Miff %> h. .. . ._. ■ ■^■T.'v '■■■■■■ ■!*■ ■? "■'' •n 1 • .,»!.. I ' ! . T, ''■'i-.X ■:' ■ ■' :■■>':■ <:'■ 4 UiH iPHII-QSOPHy OF THB WBMORY. ii^m^i'^ ■' ■■■'■ ■ '•.■. -^ j» ffk^--i<?>^ti£<^i • CH4PTEIJ M. . :. 1!. ;'! lUfllH iv.rsK|' ',.i«i''.Ji .£W«(i ;" uirr ..''•}' ^-xta A^■\^ ■'■■ .-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. ,{..v. • (riw'' .'■■■.' ' '■ :i. :- ; iii ". I ■■ •■ ; •' ,-.' u •■ «, ,■ '-i, '.''; ' . r"-. liiib'^ . . rr-j^ !>{{ r»j ,r)<)fY:::;ii*|i^^ fefTij Hiiftiivf r . ■ .■' '.-.''■ ■ - ' -■■■■■ •. si vfiu ■■ ■' ^. ■ . .'] ' ' --J • . ^ Sfnv ■ ..-■ ■:■ ' ■ * . - . ■ . .*•!■■- • - ; J ' t "- ■ ' ■ ■ ' \ -. ' * 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^.