3*morg Idniuersitg Xibrarg LECTURES on HUMAN NATURE, BY rev. 8amuejl ak, ©, ©. ADAPTED TO THE USE O? STUDENTS A V COLLEG ES, ACADE¬ MIES, OR IN OTHER SCHOOLS, OP IN PRIVATE. TO which is added AN ESSAY ON LIFE, BY rev. john w. doak, d. d. & m. d. Attention, aided by consciousness and common sense, at last, must teacb us wbat our own nature is, f. GIFFORD A CO., FKINTER3, JOHESBOROTJGII, TENN. 1845. COPY RIGHT SECURED, ACCORDING TO LAW, PREFACE. This Epitome written by Rev. Samuel Doak, D. D., was used by him as a classic through the whole of his long course of instruction on the Philosophy of Human Nature. He recommended to his students the reading of Watts, Locke, Reed, Steward, Brown &-c. as collater¬ al books. With him it was a primary object to bring up his students to the investigation of all parts of the subject for themselves, by applying the testimony of consciousness and common sense regardless of what they had read. The origin of this Epitome is this. Rev. William Graham, the founder of Washington College at Lex¬ ington, Virginia, delivered a course of extempore lec¬ tures on the Philosophy of Human Nature, while'said Doak was one of his students. He took short notes on Mr, Graham's Lectures. While a student afterwards at Princeton, he heard Dr. Witberspoon lecture on the same and kindred subjects. When he had graduated at Princeton, he spent some time as an assistant of Dr. Smith at Hampden Sidney college where he read, as he had done at Princeton, much on the subject, written by many authors. But finding no regular coherent system furnished by any one, and that each aimed more at de¬ molishing the systems of others than at establishing one of his own, he felt there was a want. When h,e came to Tennessee, organized Salem and some other church¬ es and opened a classical school, he delivered several courses of extemporaneous lectures on the subject. In these lectures he was regardfessofwhathad been said and written by others; he aimed at establishing a regular coherent system of his own, under the guidance ofcon-_ sciousnes? and common sense. Many of -the features,' and outlines of this system, no doubt, were suggested by the recollection of Mr. Graham's lectures. He wrote a 4 summary of his first course which he required his stu¬ dents to transcribeand study, and which, he from time 10 time, amended and improved. Ilis lectures were never written; if they had been, they would have been too voluminous for general use. In this little book we have the sum and substance of the whole, expressed in ihe simple, concise and lucid style of the lecturer. While this Epitome exhibits the subject in such a man¬ ner as may call forth all the energies of the college stu¬ dent, it makes 1 lie subject at the same time so plain that it can hardly fail to be read and studied with much in¬ terest and profit by children in academies and common schools, and by individuals who would study it without an instructor. The 22d lecture was written and is added by the pub¬ lisher, because he thought ^jiat something more ex¬ plicit on the subject of conscience than what was in the proceeding lectures ought to be in a work of this kind. He has added a full set of questions to each lecture and to the Essay, (not because he approves the plan,) but because fashion requires them. They will be conveni¬ ent for the teacher who is not master of the subject, and for children who cannot undergo the labor of investi¬ gating the subject for themselves. No branch of science contributes more to the strength¬ ening of all the faculties and the useful training of the mind than the philosophy of the mind itself, when the student can be prevailed on to think, and tjunk for him¬ self, and not depend on others to think for him: vet no real improvement of the'facultics nor maturing of the mind will be attained when the memory alone is exer¬ cised in treasuring up answers to the questions in the language cf the book. TIIE PUBLISHER. c&rvzisrsm Lecture I Oa Education. tc II On-first principles. 4i III On first principles. IV Oa perception and its concomitants. " T On Emotion. " VI On Passion. " VII Orr Appetite. VIII On Original desires of the mind. ; " IX Observations on the two preceding subjects. " X Observations coniinned. '*' ' XI On Inclination, disposition and habit, includ¬ ing propensity. " XII On common sense,' reason, memory ami recollection.' " XI11 On P'owe". " 'XIV On the* will. " XV On motives. " XVI On guilt. a. XVII On taste. " XVIII On grandeur and sublimity^ "■ XIX On Beauty. w XX On instinct, conception and imagination. " XXI On the relative state of man. XXII iMan's relative state, continued, and duties -rising out of iu w XXIII On conscience, by S. W. Doak. Essay on Life. LECTURE I—ON EDUCATION. What is the end of an Education? It is tp train the mind to exercise its facul.ies properly. It is also to furnish the mind with truth and useful knowledge which will enable the student to pursue w hatever business he may think proper in after life. Another end of an edu¬ cation is the knowledge of language, which enables1 a person- to convey his ideas to others with ease, and to express his Sentiments so as to be easily understood. But this last is not the most important end of an educa¬ tion, as it is only to answer a secondary purpose. It may be asked here-, what are the best means to ac¬ quire an education? To which I would answer dili¬ gence and application. Here I would observe thru the student ought to be vei'y careful to avoid the running into two extremes;—grasping at too much at once ~md being neglectful of his business. We are so constituted that wc can nehher take in much at once, nor acquire an education without diligence or application. We ought therefore, in pursuit of an education to ubscive g { roper medium. In our enquiries after truth, we should observe ccrtaip, maxims, or general rules which may preserve us from error. We ought-to enquire to what branch of science the subject belongs, and what evidence would afibnlthe most suitable illustration or proof;—Whether the illus¬ tration or proof will depend on the testimony cfpur senses, or of consciousness, or of mathematical axioms, or philosophical principles. Truth, for want of apply- ing the proper evidence, may be left in the dark. If I put my hand into the fire I immediately feel pain, but this feeling will .not prove to me the fifth proposition ill Euclid, nor that gold is yellow. If a philosopher tell me that a man on the moon is seven feet high, I would ask how he knows that—what evidence he can 7 produce to prove his assertion? If he would reply, T have seen him/ I would laugh at die whole as a fiction of his own brain, knowing that he had never gone to the moon to measure the fancied-man, and that nothing short of actual measurement would be proper evidence in the case* Questions on Lecture I. What are the ends of an education? ,What ase means for acquiring it? What extremes should be avoided? fnoup enquiries after truth, what should be observed? For want of what is truth often left in obscurity? LECTURE II-ON FIRST PRINCIPLES. Such is the constitution of our nature that we cannot take in many things at once, nor see far into nature at the first glance. We ought, therefore, to begin with those things which are most plain, and then proceed to those which appear at first view more intricate. Before we proceed in any science we must take some things as granted, which are called -first principles or axioms. First principles cannot be proved: they are seen by immediate perception which surpasses all other proof whatever. Who does not pereeive that two and two make four, or that a whole is greater than a part. If you prove first principles, you must prove them by some¬ thing more plain, and you must prove that also by some¬ thing still plainer than itself, and so on ad infinitum. But as these first principles cannot admit a doubt, their demonstration would not only be impossible but alto¬ gether needless. These first principles are the founda¬ tion of all reasoning, and without them there can be no reasoning. To become acquainted with human nature we must ourselves examine it, not depending on the hy¬ potheses of Metaphysicians on the subject, but,, directed by certain axioms or self evident truths established by 8 consciousness and common sense. We should enquire what is the nature, what is the constitution, and what the Capacity which £»od has given to man? 1. I lay it down as a first principle, that I exist. All men in ages have believed their own existence except a few cracked brain Metaphysicians. Were I asked how I know that I exist, I would not answer in the language of Descartes "cogito ergo sum/' I think there¬ fore I am, but that I know i exist, because I am conscious that J do exist. If any one would attempt to convince me that I do not exist, whilst I am conscious that I do, his attempt would be vain, because my belief is prior to and independent of all argumentation on the subject. The argument Vcogito ergo sum" is manifestly defective, for we may with equal, if not greater propriety, invert the order and say—sum, ergo cogito, I am, therefore I think. This axiom then is founded ott consciousness, which is the strongest possible testimony. It is therefore, unnecessary as well as useless to seek arguments for its establishment. I take, it, therefore, as a dictate of con¬ sciousness and of common sense that I exist. 2dly. I lay down as a dictate of common sense that I think. This also depends on the testimony of consciousness. 3dly. I lay it down as a dictate of common sense that / am the same person lo-day that I was yesterday, or at any other period of my life. It is true the body of man is subject to changes: It may be much wasted by sickness, and on the return of health, it may acquire a. new recruit of matter, yet the person is the same. Some attempt to establish the iden¬ tity of person by telling us that there are certain stamina vitae or threads of life, which are born with us, which remain the same through childhood, manhood, old age, and from death to the resurrection, and are, therefore, say they, sufficient to establish identity. But we have no evidence, from our senses, nor from consciousness, nor from any other source, of the existence of these stamina 9 vitas; nor can any one tell us where they reside. We have no reason for believing any such thing. All con¬ jectures on this subject are equally Vain and unsatisfactory. I am conscious that I am what I am to day, and I am conscious that I remember that I was ten years ago, pr at any other period of my life, the same person that I am now, and this is sufficient for ail the purposes of gov¬ ernment human or divine. If a man has committed a Crime twenty years ago, however his body may have changed* he is conscious that he is still the same man and Sensible of bis guilt, and that he is the one who deserves punishment for that crime. Hence we have an easy so¬ lution ofthe infidel question. How are the dead raised and with what bodies do they come forth? If God can make me conscious that I am the same in the morning wheiyl rise, that I was when I lay down at night, he can make md conscious in the morning of the resurrection, that I am the same person that I was, while I lived on earth; and this is sufficient for all the purposes of moral government. Identity, then, is established by the most convincing of all testimony i. e. consciousness. Questions on Lecture IL What is the subject of this- lecture? How should wo proceed in our searrffi after truth? How arc first prin¬ ciples perceived? What is the foundation officii reason¬ ing? Can they be proved? To be acquainted with human nature whet is necessary? What is laid down as a first principle? flow do you know thatyou exist? Vv hat is. se¬ condly, laid down as a first principle? What thirdly? By what is identity of person established? By what is it not? LECTURE III—ON FIRST PRINCIPLES. 4thlv. I take it for granted that my senses are true, and that the information they give me is to be depended on. The senses are five, Seeing, Hearing, Smelling, Tasting and Feeling. I see a man. From the constitution of my to nature I must believe that a man is there, and all thfi argument that can be invented cannot convince me that a man is not there, when I am conscious that I see him. I'f I be asked why I believe my senses? I answer, I am so constituted by my creator that-1 cannot do other¬ wise. Some Metaphysicians have endeavored to prove that our senses are not to be depended on, and that they sometimes deceive us. For, say they, the sun appears to be not more than one foot in diameter to the eye, w hen to the philosopher it is known to be many thous¬ and miles: therefore, they say, our senses are not true, and are not to be depended on at all times unless regu¬ lated by reason. To this I reply, that reason alone Would never have discovered to me that there is a sun, nor coulcfl have known it without sight or hearing; then the knowledge of it is derived from the evidence of sense. It appears then their mistake lies in this—they apply ond of the senses to that which principally belongs to the office of another. My eyes were given me to discover the shapes and colors of bodies, but if I wish to kiiow the length, breadth, or distance of any object T must ap¬ ply actual measurement. Ileason may and does assist in forming instruments for that purpose. I find that all men in all ages have been disposed to credit their senses independently of reason. If there were a cririiinal at the bar accused of murder, and two men of good charac¬ ter would testify that they saw him kill a man and hectrd him say previously that he would do it; the Jfdge would not hesitate to pronounce him guilty and worthy < if death, because the evidence of sight would be suf¬ ficient proof that he did the. deed, and the evidence of hearing sufficient for the discovery of his intention. I feel pajn from the puncture of a pin. I am conscious that I feci pain, but I cannot prove it any other way than by saying that I feel it; though the circumstances may correspond with what I say, viz: the blood flowing and the distortion of my countenance. It may be said that the senses may be disordered; true n enough, but this cannot be remedied by reason. To a jaundiced eye (it is said) all things appear yellow? but in this case we must refer to former experience, and recol¬ lect whether these things always appeared so: or we must enquire if they appear sb to men in general; if not, we may conclude that our sight is disordered. 5thly. 1 take it for granted that I remember. If I be asked how I know that I remember? I answer I am conscious of it, therefore I cannot doubt it.—Mankind in general are disposed to credit their memory prior to, and altogether independent of reason.-—Although mem¬ ory is not dependent on reason, reason is dependent on memory. It is impossible to reason vvi.hout first prin¬ ciples, and it is impossible to use them without remem¬ bering them. Gttdy. I take it for granted ihaf there is a material w-orld—'Sun, Moon, tind Stars, and other objects which I see, feel and smell. All men have believed tins, a few Metaphysicians excepted; who have denied every thing they could not prove; and as they could not prove the existence of matter, have therefore denied its existence. For, say they, a body cannot net where it is not: the moon is not an inhabitant of our minds, therefore, she cannot act there except in idea only. But this may easily fye refuted by an example. Although France is not in America yet she may transmit business here by an agent. So although the moon is not in cur minds, nor can our minds leave our bodies to go to the moon, yet the evident;© conveyed to our minds is so strong and con- yineingtbat wc must believe that such a body exists in reality. We can conceive of objects being in certain places when they are not there. lean conceive of my Jiorse being in the cornfield, when he is not-, and I know that he is in the stable.. I believe a stone is hard and th.it snow is white as I believe I exist.— I must believe then, that there is something existent more than mere jdeas. I believe that the sun, moon and planets are more thasr-merc sensations, or images impressed on tho 12 brain, as some "Metaphysicians tell y. Tins doctrine of ideas has given rise to ail that system of metaphysical non-sense taught by George Berkley of Trinity College, .Dublin, who reasoned away the material world and left nothing but spirits,and David Hume, a Scotchman, completed tho work of annihilation,, and left nothing but a bundle of ideas floating in vacim. This affords us a lively example of man's liability to err.when lie forsakes the piaiq path of common, sense. But if we adhere to the principles lajd down in the beginning we carl have rjo reason for believing any such things. ?thly. I take it for granted that there are-certain rela¬ tions established between things in nature. I mdrt beiiev e there i3 a relation between cause and effect before 1 c*nn believe the cause will produce the effect, and that ihcyi is a relation between tl.6 ruler and the ruled, before the ruled can be under obligation to olcy, and that there must be a relation between 9 and 2, before they can make 4. Questions on Lecture III. Wltjit is, fourthly, laid down as a first principle? What ore the 5 senses 1 Why do we believe our senses? Ilmv ■does it appear that all men 'rust their senses? Can the testimony of the senses when disordered bo corrected? JIow? What is, fifthly, laid down as a first principle? What establishes this? Have all men trusted jnenirry I Whe'her is memory-dependent on reason or rcas'ii on memory? Why? What is, sixthly, laid down as a fimt principle? Have any denied this? Why? How is it. established? What is the seventh first pririciple? Is tins essential in all reasoning? LECTURE IV—ON PERCEPTION AND ITS CONCOMITANTS. Perception is simply the seeing of an object present¬ ed to the mind. In perception there are three things to 13 be considered; the agent, the energy and the object. I perceive a tree, as it is mere commonly expressed, I see a tree. The pronoun I, represents the agent, the verb s-eet expresses the energy and the noun, tree, the object. Wc are so constituted by our Creator that whenever \ye see, hoar, feel, taste or smell, we immediately per¬ ceive. Ilencc Me use the operation of the senses for perception itself Thus, I see a man, I hear a sound, I feel a surface, I taste an apple, I smelt a rose. The senses are the only-means of perception, they are dis- tmcL from iti yet "the senses and perception are often blended together. A question on which there has been much, metaphysical reasoning is "Whether the mind" is Active or passive in the perception of an object?" For an answer to this question, I appeal to the common sense of mankind, and I hud men in all languages use ■active transitive verbs to express their perceptions— verbs expressing the action of an agent passing to the object winch is expressed in an objective case required by the verb or energy which governs it. From this manner of expression, which is common to all languages, it must be inferred as a universal sentiment of mankind, that the mind is active in perception in all cases what¬ ever. Belief inevitably accompanies perception. I see a hbuse, I instantly believe a house is there* I hear my friends' Voice, I immediately believe that it is my friend's voice. If I be asked why I believe so? I can give no other reason than this, that I am so constituted that I must family believe whatever I clearly "perceive. If I should be required to define my belief, I would reply, I cannot, because it is too simple to admif*of a defini¬ tion. I believe there is such a city as Philadelphia be¬ cause I have seen it,-or have heard of it. But were I requested to define ray belief I would laugh at the re¬ quest. If you ask a plain Christian whether he believes the scriptures, he will say yes. If you ask him if he believes the Gcsrel of Christ? he will promptly assenb 14 But ask him to define his belief, and he vrilb eitkc* taught' at your request, or he will be much puzzled to say any thing satisfactory on tire subject. But if you recur to his former experience, he will not only understand yau perfectly, but also give you satisfactory answers. Whatever we perceive, we immediately believe prior to all reasoning. Yet there are some things which we believe, though we may have forgotten the evidence on which we first believed them; but if we now remember that the evidence on which our belief then rested, was sufficient to induce belief, we still believe them. Emotion is also a concomitant of perception and is closely connected with it. A pleasant or painful emotion always attends the per¬ ception of objects that arrest the attention. I see a house well arrayed and situated on a beautiful emi¬ nence, I feel a pleasant emotion. But if I see a house badly formed, illy proportioned and situated in a dark- vallev, I feel a painful emotion. Belief as well as perception is attended by conscious¬ ness. I see a house; I immediately believe there is a house there. Here I am conscious not only of the per¬ ception, but also of the belief which follows it. A ques¬ tion here arises more fit to be solved by the refined Metaphysician than by him who enquires, after plain truth, viz; Does consciousness g§_ before belief or belief before consciousness? To this I answer; I do pot know winch goes before, because I am not conscious of any difference, and it would be difficult if not impossiblo to, point out any difference. Consciousness is perhaps more simple than belief and always accompanies it. We say we are conscious of our existence, but never say we be¬ lieve we are conscious of it. The emotions that ac¬ company perceptions are sometimes called impressions, and are either strong or weak. If 1 meet my friend who has been long absent without any previous notice of his coming, I feel strong emotions. But-if I meet a friend with whom I am daily conversant; although I may. 15 have as great a regard for him as for my long absent friend; yet the emotion or impression is much weaker. Questions on Lecture IV. What is the subject of this lecture? What is perception? What three things must be considered on this subject ? Example. What expresses the agent? What the energy? What the object? What are the means of perception? Is fhe mind active or passive in perception? How do you prove that it is active? What accompanies perception? Examples, Why do we believe? Can belief be defined? Does the belief of what we perceive depend on reason¬ ing? Do we sometimes believe things when the evi¬ dence is forgotten? What besides belief accompanies perception? Emotions are of what two kinds? Accord¬ ing to what? Examples. What accompanies percep¬ tion besides belief and emotion? Which is first in the miacl, consciousness or belief? May emotions be in different- degrees of strength? Example. LECTURE Y—ON EMOTIONS. In order to understand this subject fully it will be nc-» cessarydo attend to the following question, viz; whether the object or the attributes be the immediate cause of the emotion? Experience teaches us that we cannot con¬ ceive of an object distinct from its attributes, nor ean we have dny idea of the qualities without conceiving of some object in which they exist. I cannot conceive of material substance without some form; neither can I conceive of form entirely abstracted from all matter. I see a broad spreading tree adorned with beautiful flow¬ ers and green leaves. This object excites a pleasant emotion. Now it is not the tree of itself, abstracted from its ^ualitios, tliat excites the amotion; nor is it the verdure or the- blossoms, abstracted nmm-the-trfifiibutjt is the tree with all its agreeable qualities.—We, there- fare, answer the question by saving, thaf it is an object 16 so qualified, perceived by the mind, thai is the immedi¬ ate cause of emotion, feueh is the constitution of our nature that on the perception of any object an cmpuc^n either pleasant or painful, in proportion asthe object ap¬ pears agreeable or disagreeable is excited. Thus a gentle, flowing river, or a wide extended plain excites a pleasant emotion. But a muddy stagnant lake,, or a tract of barren hills excites a painful emotion. Emo¬ tions either painful or pleasant, may be heightened by external relations. If I see a smoky hut, the emotion arising from the perception is painful; but if it be situated between rugged mountains in a dark valley the' emo¬ tion is still more painful. On the other hand, an elegant building will excite a pleasant emotion however it .may be situated; but if it be placed on a beautiful eminence in the midst of an extensive plain the emotion is height¬ ened; but if there are around it beautiful meadows and vast herds of thrifty cattle grazing in them, and a broad river gently flowing through the plain, the emotion is still increased. A man possessed of amiable qualities such as benevolence, cheerfulness &c., excites a pleas¬ ant emotion. On the contrary a man possessed of hate¬ ful qualities—malevolence, envy, moroseness, dullness, &c. excites a painful emotion. . The action of others is the cause of emotion in us; But the intention is the most material circumstance by which the emotion is excited in us whether painful or "pleasant. For example. I see one man give another a piece of money, it excites little or no emotion either pleasant or painful until I learn the intention or, at least have some conjecture about the design, because here the quality of the action is out of view. But if I learn thatjie gave it in payment of a just debt, I have an idea of his honesty, which excites a pleasant emotion; or if I find that he gave it for favor received, the emotion is heightened by the expression of gratitude, or if I discov¬ er that he gave^it for the relief of some poor distressed family, the emotion is stiil greater. But if I find he gave 1.7 it as a reward for the assassination of an honest citizen, the emotion is exceedingly painful; but if I find that citi¬ zen was my father or my greatest earthly friend, the emotion is still much higher and rises to indignation. Here X would observe that the intention is always sup¬ posed to arise from some antecedent disposition. A man may do an action that is productive of good ef¬ fects, and yet he can claim no merit if he does it from a malevolent disposition.—An action that proceeds from a good intention, though productive of bad effects, can¬ not be accounted a crime: it may be thought imprudent but not wicked. But as the merit and demerit of action are to be considered more appropriately in another lec¬ ture, the subject we pass over for the present. Motion is another cause of emotion. To see a man walk with ease and unaffectedness excites a pleasant emotion; but to see a man walk stiffly and affectedly excites a painful emotion. The feelings of others excite in us emotions pleasant or painful. I hear a noise in a solitary place, I pause and listen: I perceive it to be the cry of some one in distress; I approach the place; the cry becomes more bitter; I am compelled to hasten to the relief of the distressed. I conclude this lecture with the observation, That emotions are excited in us by all the interesting objects with which we are conversant; and if the ob¬ ject be agreeable the emotion is pleasant; but if the ob¬ ject be disagreeable the emotion is painful. Questions on Lecture V What is the subject of this lecture ? To understand the subject what is necessary ? What does experience teach ? Examples. What does not excifCj. y-^otion ? What does excite it ? Emotions will be ar y^'ng to what? What will highten emotion ? Exatatjge{j ^re the actions of others the cause of emotions-,,^ Aefly what 1 Examplf s; The intention is always \^posed to arise from whit J* What will render a good action bad ? What will be some excuse for a bad action ? Is motion a cause of emotion ? Will the feelings of others B 18 excite it ? Examples. Do all interesting objects ex¬ cite it 1 "LECTURE VI—ON PASSIONS. Helving in the last lecture treated on Emotion wc?; now proceed to consider some of its concomitants/ We have already shown that on the perception of an inter¬ esting object, an emotion either pleasant or painful is excited in -us. Some emotions are followed by desire, others are not. A beautiful garden well laid off, filled with useful veg¬ etables and adorned with a rich variety of well scented flowers, will excite a pleasant emotion and a desire of possessing so beautiful an object. A well formed horse, well trained for the saddle or for the draught will excite emotion, and if he be for sale, a desire of possession will probably ensue. A cloud is a beautiful object and excites a pleasant emotion; but no one of common sense desires to possess it, or to walk upon it. I see a beauti¬ ful young lady of correct taste, amiable dispositions and good habits, a pleasant emotion is excited. And if I find she is attainable as my companion, a strong desire may be excited in me to have so lovely an object: but when I find she is not to be obtained my desire subsides, but the pleasant emotion remains. We may observe that objects out of our power are not generally objects of our desire,.' Ther^- some cases in which emotion and desire subsided»<; same time; in others-they do not. l am "passjnT l'1' the highway,I hear an uncommon sound I amf£avei6ns of an emotion, and-ftjsoof a desire to • know caused the sound. I approach the place and find it wag paused only by some childrprf at play. Here my desire Subsides with the emotion. Desire arises af¬ ter emotion, and accompanies it, and generally remains after it has subsided. 19 We notfr proceed to show in what respects emotion differs from passion. Emotion, accompanied and fol¬ lowed by desire, is passion. For what is the- passion of love besides a pleasant emotion accompanied by a de¬ sire of possessing the beloved object?' or what is hatred' but a painful emotion accompanied by a desire of evil to the hated object? Here then we may easily discover the difference between passion and emotion,-in as much- as emotion, accompanied and followed by desire, consti¬ tutes passion. We may have an emotion without pas¬ sion, but passion is always preceded by emotion and in¬ cludes it.1. Another distinction between passion-> and emotion is^ that emotion has a law but no object, where¬ as passion has both. We always suppose emotion to have a cause which excites it in the mind. We never speak of the object of emotion; but we often hear peo¬ ple talk of the object of passion. Here I would observe, that the same thing that is the cause of emotion, is the cause and also the object of passion. - A beautiful wo¬ man will cause a pleasant emotion, and if the emotion be followed by desire, it becomes-passion^ of which the woman is both the cause and the object. Having explained the difference between passion and emotion we now are to consider passion as selfish or benevolent. Every passion has some gratification as its object; when this is: obtained the. passion ceases. When a person has nothing but his own interest in view3,'- his passion is selfish; but when the happiriess of others is its object, .then it is benevolent. If a man gives a. piece of money for his own benefit, his passion is selfish; but if he gives it for the benefit of another, it is benevo¬ lent. These passions often unite, and are gratified in the^ same object. A man may entertain his friend for his own improvement and thereby gratify a selfish passion. He may do it also to make his friend happy and sot gratify a benevolent passion.,. What is impulse? I answer, Passion so inflamed that 20 it drives its subject to act without deliberating on his action or its consequences* A man in a crowd receives a blow. He forthwith strikes the person nearest to him prompted by impulse. This is called impulse, because the man was impelled by his passion to strike without considering what he was doing. Hence we have these phrases in our languagei—mpulse of passion, impulse of appetite, &c. A person, who kills another by impulse, is not considered guilty of murder, but of manslaughter only. But if he had time to reflect, and went to some other place, procured a weapon, returned, searched for his adversary and killed him, he was actuated by a ma¬ licious passion: he is guilty of murder. In the former case, the man is considered as acting, as brutes act* from instinct without reflection; but in the latter case the action was intended to use a law phrase, with mal¬ ice afore-thought. We shall conclude this lecture by showing the differ¬ ence between passion and affection. They are nearly allied to one another, but the following example will show a difference. I see a lovely woman pessessed of all the perfections belonging to her sex. This object excites a pleasant emotion, and if followed by desire, it is passion: but when the object is possessed, passion is changed into affection. In other words it may be said, a man has a passion for his sweetheart, but a man has affection for his wife. We say a man has the passion of anger, of envy, of revenge, of malice &c; but we never say we have the affection of anger, the affection of envy, of revenge, or of malice. Passion, is a state of mind more turbulent and boisterous, affection more calm and uniform. Passion agitates with some degree of violence. Affection being calm gives the mind real pleasure in the enjoyment of the object. Questions on JLecture VI. What is the subject of this lecture! Some emotions are followed," by what? Examples. Are objects known to be out of our power desired ? Will emotioE 21 and desire ever subside at the same time ? Examples. Does desire rise before or after emotion ? Which gen¬ erally remains longest ? What is passion ? Can we have emotion without passion ?—passion without emo¬ tion ? Has passion both, a cause and an object? Has emotion both? Is the same object both the cause and object of passion ? Is passion always either selfish or benevolent ? Examples. May both be gratified in the same object sometimes ? E xample. What is impulse ? Example. Why called impulse ? How will you show the difference between impulse and passion by an ex¬ ample ? How do you distinguish between passion and affection ? LECTURE VII—ON APPETITE. What is the difference between passion and appetite? To answer this question satisfactorily, it will be neces¬ sary to observe what appetite is, and to what part of our constitution it belongs. 1., Appetite is an uneasy sensation accompanied by a desire for a gratifying object. . 2. When the desire is gratified the appetite subsides for a time and again returns. Hunger, thirst and animal love have these properties and are, therefore, properly called appetites.—Hunger is an uneasy sensation accompanied by a desire to eat. Thirst is an uneasy sensation accompanied by a desire to drink. When the desire of eating or drinking is sat¬ isfied those appetites subside for a time, but afterwards return. The returns of thirst are not so periodical as those of hunger. The same may be said of animal love. It is probable that hunger and thirst, in infants, are nothing more than painful sensations. We cannot sup¬ pose them to be followed by desire, when the infants cannot know that eating and drinking are necessary to remove the sensations. 22 We have these appetites in common with brutes There is in them the painful sensation accompanied by a desire of gratification. The brutes desire the object of gratification by instinct, but habit or custom has con¬ siderable influence on them. A horse long accustomed to eat oats and hay, will not, at first, readily eat corn and fodder. The ends for which these appetites are given are too obvious to require remarks, viz: the pre¬ servation of animal life and health and propagation of the species. The cravings of the appetites are often so dangerous that they withdraw the attention from every other ob¬ ject and fix it on the objects of their gratification. Hence we have an easy solution of the question, -what is the difference between passion and appetite ? Appetite craves a general object; -as hunger craves food in gen¬ eral Yet custom has considerable influence in direct¬ ing the desire to particular articles of food. Thus I may eat oysters or tomatoes or beets from fancy ; or J may eat beef, mutton, pork, or potatoes for the sake of health. Thirst craves drink in general, but the influ¬ ence of habit may cause it to select", for its object, a pa r tic ular sort of drink. But passion has its particular object. A man when hungry may desire; a particular sort of food, but if he cannot obtain that, another sort will satisfy his appe¬ tite. But if be hates one man it will not satisfy his passion to be revenged on another, or on any one be¬ sides the man he hates. Another distinction is: Appetite is prior to object; but passion is posterior. A man does not desire food because it is first presented to his view, but no one has pity without having first a pitiable object in contem¬ plation.—Appetite goes before and suggests its object to the mind, but passion follows after, as an effect follows its cause. The appetites above mentioned have their seat in the body. 23 These lappitites in inferior animals have nothing in them morally good or evil. Nothing has changed them from their original state. In man they may be vitiated by indulgence, yet indulgence of them is not criminal unless it goes beyond the limits prescribed by laws hu- manor divine. These appetites are called in the scrip¬ tures "the desires of the flesh, the lusts of the flesh" from the influence they have over us in determining our choices. There are other appetites belonging to our constitu¬ tion such as the desire of rest after fatigue, and a desire of motion after long continued rest. When these have become very strong, we are said to be weary or rest¬ less. These appetites are in different degrees in dif¬ ferent persons. Some men can plan their business well, who are too indolent to put their plans into execution : some are too restless to lay their plans well, or to stick to any business Until it is completed. These appetites as well as all others, by indulgence, may be increased in all men and especially in the young. Hence it is that so many youth go astray by giving loose play to all their appetites. Hence I would observe, that the young man who keeps his appetites under due subordination, and whose genius, education and industry all conspire to promote his respectability and usefulness, can scarce¬ ly fail to become a useful and respectable member of so¬ ciety. Questions on Lecture VII. What is the subject of this lecture ? To see the dif¬ ference between appetite and passion what is necessary ? What is appetite 1 When the object is obtained what takes place ? The appetites are what ? Are the re¬ turns of appetite periodical? Hunger and thirst in children are merely what ? Why? Are the appetites common to men and brutes ? Has custom an influ¬ ence on the appetites? Example. Do appetites and passions differ with regard to their objects? How? jExamples. Is appetite prior or posterior to its object? 24 Is passion? Examples. Appetites have their seat? where? Passions where ? May they be increased by- indulgence ? When is indulgence of the appetites crim¬ inal ? What other appetites belong to our constitution ? Are they equally strong in all men ? Example. How may they be increased ? LECTURE VIII—ON ORIGINAL DESIRES OF THE MIND. There are other original principles in the human con¬ stitution, besides those mentioned in the last lecture, which agree with the appetites before mentioned in some respects, but differ from them in others; such as the de¬ sire of esteem, of knowledge, of wealth and of power. They agree with the appetites in being prior to their objects,—in having their objects general,—in being strengthened by indulgence and weakened by restraint. Hunger craves food in general, yet a person may pre¬ fer one sort before another. So the desire of wealth craves a general object; yet, as there are many kinds of wealth, a person may prefer one kind before another. The general desire is common to all men. Hunger, when gratified to excess, terminates in gluttony. So the desire of wealth may grow to avarice. They differ in this respect; Hunger and thirst are pe¬ riodical; and when gratified subside for a time: but the desire of wealth, power, esteem and knowledge, do not subside when they are gratified. The appetites have their seat in the body, but these desires have their seat in the mind. Lord Cames called these desires appetites;— Professor Reed calls them general desires, to distin¬ guish them from particular ones. But I think they may be called, with more propriety, original desires of the mind: yet it is of little importance by what name they are called. Let us examine and see whether there be any such 23> desires in our constitution. It is evident that we weredc signed by our Creator for social, and not solitary beings. It was necessary that there be in our nature some stimu¬ lus—exciting us to society. Without this we would not be social. The desire of esteem answers this purpose- This desire is easily discovered in children at an early period. We observe them endeavoring to engratiate themselves in the favor of their nurses and playmates- They desire to be esteemed more than others. The desire is no less discovered in advanced age. The at¬ tention paid to dress and to deportment in company, on examination, is found, for the most part, to grow out of this desire. When men attempt to gain esteem by pur¬ suing a course of conduct truly polite and moral towards men, and pious towards God, they are justly esteemed and commended for it; but when men endeavor to gain esteem by immorality, impiety, selfishness, pride or ar¬ rogance, they are truly detestable. The gratification of this desire affords great pleasure to the mind, while the want of it leaves the mind, in some degree, misera¬ ble. Suppose a man to know that he is disesteemed and considered perfectly detestable by all human beings, must he not be a most miserable object ? There is in brutes something like this principle: We observe horses, that are much fed and wrought together, discover mu¬ tual attachment for one another. The same may be said of almost all domestic animals. The desire of knowledge is also a principle common to all mankind. This principle is discovered very early in children. We see them examining things very min¬ utely and sometimes breaking them open to see what is in the inside. Prompted by this principle, the savage leaves his hut and travels over distant mountains and valleys in pursuit of discoveries. It is this principle per¬ verted that excites people to enquire into the scandals of their neighbors. When this desire has become strong and, is directed to many objects it is called curiosity. 26 Somebrutes'show this desire. •-■A ■ dog coming into ft strange room will examine every corner. A fox going into a hollow tree examines all its turns and windings. The desire of wealth is not less common or universal among all ranks of men. The child, the slave and the savage, eaGh desires something that he may call his own. The child is fond of his toys and desires new ones. The slave values-his dog and his patch of vegetables. The savage values his beads, his belt and instruments for hunting and warfare. We are so constituted by our Creator that every in¬ dividual has his wants, and in many easeshe alone is the best judge of his wants: and the infinitely wise Creator has given to every man a desire for some objects to relieve his wants. The pursuit of wealth, with a view to supply our real wants, or the real wants of others, or to accomplish some laudable purpose, is commendable: but when the object is merely to supply some .imaginary want, or to gratify some vicious lust, it is blameworthy. The desire of power over others is also a universal principle among mankind. In uncivilized and rude nations, superiority in bodily strength generally decides; but, in more civilized nations wisdom, fortune or birth, generally determines the superiority in. power. Brutes show this desire. Among them superiority is always decided by superior strength. A strange beast comes into a herd; he must fight each one before he knows his proper place; those that beat him take their station above him, and those that are beaten by him take their station below him. Questions on ;Lecture VIII. What is the subject of this lecture ? Whatare named as original desires? In what do they agree with the appetites ? Hunger gratified to excesd, terminates in what ? The desire of wealth in whqt? They have their seats where? What prompts man to society? How do children show the desire of esteem ? How do all men show it ? How do horses ? How does the de- 27 sire of knowledge appear to be universal ?- -How do "children show it?—Savages? A perversion of it is shown how? 'Mow do inferior animals show it? Ex¬ amples. Is a desire of wealth a universal principle in man ? How does this appear? Children show it how7 Savages? When is it comrriendable ? When not? Is the desire of power universal in mankind ? How is superiority determined among the uncivilized? How among the more civilized ? How among brutes ? Ex¬ ample. How among brutish men1? LECTURE IX—OBSERVATIONS ON APPE¬ TITE. GENERAL OBSERVATIONS DEDUCED FROM THE TWO PRECEEDING LECTURES. We deduce from thelwo.preceeding lectures the fol¬ lowing observations: 1st. That these appetites and desires, eight in num¬ ber, including the desire of motion and rest, areoriginal parts of our constitution; and'have for their objects all things in nature. When but little attention is paid to these appetites and desires, and to things in nature, it clearly appears-evident that there are objects suited to each of them. There are many objects for the grati¬ fication of hunger, &c. The desire of esteem extends .to all those actions and gratifications for which we es¬ teem others, or for which we expect to be esteemed our¬ selves. Many are the objects suited to gratify the de¬ sire of power. The objects suited for the gratification of the desire of wealth are many and various. There is scarcely an object that will not, in some degree, gratify the desire of knowledge. These principles of action prompt us to pursue those objects which we suppose suited to the gratification of either of these appetites or desires. And when the pursuit becomes too ardent, fatigue and a desire for rest serveto moderate thepursuit. ss 2nd. I observe, that though these appetites and desires are evidently distinct from one another, yet they are of¬ ten joined together in the same individual, at the same time and in the same pursuit; and the appropriate ob¬ jects of one are frequently sought to gratify another. Thus a man in pursuit of wealth may be hungry, thirsty and fatigued. And wealth may be sought as the means of gaining power over others, or of gaining esteem from fellow men. These appetites being so blended together is, no doubt, one reason why the science of human na¬ ture is so difficult to understand. Man, stimulated to action by strong desires, without attending to the prin¬ ciple by which he is actuated, is, of all the objects of knowledge, most ignoran* of himself. 3d. I observe, that these appetites and desires, be* ing prior to their objects, give particular objects a great advantage in raising particular desires in us. The constitution of man is formed for the part of the world in which he acts, and he is formed susceptible of influ¬ ence from the various objects with which he is conver¬ sant. He having ihese general principles antecedent to, and independent of reason, the particular objects, when presented, immediately excite in him emotion and draw the desires after them. We shall illustrate this by ex¬ amples. A man has been accustomed to acquire wealth by some mechanical trade ; a method offers it¬ self, that appears more advantageous, viz: trading in lands. Now his general and prior desire for wealth prompts him to use the most effectual means for acquir¬ ing it. He immediately leaves his shop and turns, his attention to lands, This change gives a new turn to his conversation and company. Before he associated with mechanics and talked about mechanical business: now he chooses to associate with speculators in land, and his conversation is turned to land speculations. When an unexperienced youth sees a man of high character have on a beautiful and uncommon coat, his general de¬ sire of esteem prompts him to wish for one like it. And 29 he even tries to imitate the admired man in his gestures, Jboks and articulation of words. Hence, we see that general principles give particular objects a great advan¬ tage over us in raising particular desires in us. And we may add that if there were no general desires, there would be no particular ones excited. 4th. Most or perhaps all particular passions and affections are founded on these general principles and arise out of them. It is obvious that a desire for any particular kind of food rises out of the general appetite, hunger, and love for wine, or for a particular companion out of their correspondent appetites. But whether the malevolent passions, such as envy, hatred or mal¬ ice, are founded on these general principles of our na¬ ture or not, is more difficult to see- Envy is emulation carried to excess. When we wish to suppress a com¬ petitor, this is envy, and arises from a supposition that he has injured us, or prevented us from obtaining that esteem, that wealth, that power, or some other object of desire, to which we thought ourselves entitled, or which we would otherwise have obtained. Hatred rises from the supposition that the hated object has injured us or is likely to injure us, by directly inflicting pain, or by depriving us of the means necessary for the gratifica¬ tion of some of our appetites or desires. Malice is habitual hatred, and arises from the supposition that its object is continually opposing our happiness. Hence we clearly see why the carnal mind is enmity against the law of God, i. e. because that law continually op¬ poses either the mode, or the degree of gratification, in which the degenerate mind supposes its chief happiness consists. Questions en Lecture IX. What is the first observation ? Are the appetites and desires original ? How many are there in all ? Are there objects suited to each ? What will gratify hun¬ ger? What the desire of esteem?—of power?—of wealth? What prompts to pursuit? What is the 30 second observation ? Examples. Why is the science; of human nature so difficult ? What is the third obser¬ vation ? Are the desires dependent on reason ? If there were no general desires would there be any particular ones ? All particular passions and affections arise out of what ? What is difficult to see ? What is envy ? It arises from what ? Hatred arises from what ? What is malice? It arises from what ? Why do men hate God's law ?1 LECTURE X—OBSERVATIONS CONTINUED. 5th. I would observe, that the distinction between the appetites of the body and the desires of the mind ap¬ pears to have been known to Paul and John. Says Paul, Ephs. ii, 3, "Among whom also we all had our conver¬ sation in times past in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind." John in his first epistle, Chap, ii, 16, says: "For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust .of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father but is of the world." By this he means the objects of lust, or the various objects that are suited to the appetites and desires. The flesh¬ ly mind (as it is sometimes called) is the mind contin¬ ually employed in meditating on these objects and devis¬ ing ways and means for obtaining • them.. The law in our members is that commanding influence which the appetites of the body have over the mind. In connec¬ tion with this we may obserye: 6th. The great influence the body has over the mind. In all ages men have observed the, influence the body has in exciting particular desires in the mind: yet few have attended to it with that care, or explained it with that accuracy, .which the subject requires. Some have observed t'that the state of the mind depends, in a great measure, on the health of the body, .and that the body may. have a tendency to reduce the mind to a state of 31 ignorance and stupidity by enslaving it to the appetites," but have, not traced out such a connection as merited a place in moral disquisition. The omission of which has left their systems extremely dark and confused.1 A lit¬ tle attention to some of the most obvious parts of our nature, will make the connection and influence very evident. The appetites hunger, thirst and animal love, being original, and prior to their objects, suggest their objects to the mind and solicit gratification; from them. That solicitation is also enforced by the fancy of pleas¬ ure, and the pain of wanting.it; which are strengthened and made still more urgent by delay. . As these appe¬ tites do nofdepend on choice, but are antecedent to it,. when their cravings become so clamorous, they are more than a balance for, any mere theory or speculative. opinion. The objects suggested by opinion or theory are too remote to raise feelings strong enough to coun¬ terbalance the strong cravings of appetite. Hence we have an easy solution of the question: Why are men of good understanding, and extensive knowledge,. often guilty of great debauchery, gluttony and sottish- ness 1 Though their knowledge be great,. and at times their resolution strong, yet these are not equal to their fancy of pleasure, arising from the gratification of their. appetites, and to the pain of wanting, that pleasure. Thus the saying of Media is daily verified, "Video meliora proboque, et deteriora sequor." I'.see and ap¬ prove the better and pursue the worse. 7th. We may observe the influence the mind has over the body in certain circumstances. When objects are presented to the mind which excite in it terror, grief or joy, to a high degree, this effect on the mind is com¬ municated to the body and often produces violent con¬ vulsions and sometimes even death itself. Agreeable objects, by exciting agreeable emotions, brighten the countenance, whilst painful objects, by exciting painful emotions, cover it with a gloom, or cause tears to flow from the eyes. Objects suited to the appetites when 32 presented to the mind elicit desire, excite emotion and the craving of the appetites. 8th. We may observe, that these appetites and passions, being original and prior to their objects give evil tempters a great advantage in tempting us to trans¬ gression. The objects, being presented to these appetites and desires, tend to inflame them, and they prompt us to indulge in the gratification of them beyond the limits prescribed by the law of God. There are two remarkable instances found in scripture which will suf¬ ficiently illustrate this observation. The temptation of¬ fered to Eve was addressed to the appetite of hunger, and to the desire of knowledge. "And when she saw the tree that it was good for food, and a tree to be de¬ sired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof and did eat." The beauty of the fruit is a circumstance naturally added, because the beauty of the object in all cases tends to influence the desire for it. The other is the temptation of Christ, which was addressed to him in the wilderness, on a mountain, and on a pinnacle of the temple. The temptation was addressed first to the appetite, hunger, and the desire of esteem; secondly, to the desire of wealth, of power and of esteem; and thirdly to the desire of esteem, and a disposition, dis¬ covered in him, to obey and trust God and his word. Questions on Lecture X. What is the fifth observation? What is the sixth? Are appetites prior to their objects ? What do they do ? What enforces solicitation ? What strength¬ ens the cravings of appetite ? Are the appetites de¬ pendent on choice ? Why are men of good understand¬ ing sometimes subjects of debauchery, gluttony and drunkenness ? What is the saying of Media ? What is the seventh observation ? What effect have agreeable objects on the body ?—Painful what ?—Objects suited to the appetites what ? What is the eighth observation ? How do they give tempters the advantage ? Examples, The temptation of Eve was addressed to what ? LECTURE XI—INCLINATION. INCLINATION, DISPOSITION AND HABIT, IN- CLUDING PROPENSITY. Inclination is the leaning or bending of our nature to¬ ward an object. The term is used to express any mode¬ rate desire. It is sometimes used in expressing a strong desire, but not without some word to qualify it, as, strong, violent, invincible inclination. Inclination prompts and leads the mind to choose. An example will make this sufficiently plain. Iam asked if I will go to see the show to-day? I answer, I am not certain. Every one who hears me, must believe that I have some desire to go, and that this desire is counterbalanced by some other desire, or that it is not sufficiently strong to determine my choice. There is something in every man's nature that distinguishes him from every other man; this we call disposition. Some are said to be of an amiable disposition, others of a hateful disposition, some of a cheerful, others of a moral disposition. Disposition differs from principle in this-—principle is a law of our nature, and is common to all our species, but disposition is that which makes a difference between men, and produces a^diversity in their characters. If I were asked what disposition is 1 I would reply, it is very difficult, if not impossible, to define it. If we ap¬ peal to common sense and the experience of mankind, we find that men are as distinguishable by their dispo¬ sitions as they are by their features. There are two other states of the mind nearly allied to disposition, viz: Good humor, and its opposite, bad humor. These are not so periodical as appetite, nor so habitual as disposition, though there may be such states as habitual good and bad humor. Good humor often arises from uninterrupted success in our pursuits, and its effects are of the most agreeable nature. It renders us happy in ourselves and agreeable to others, and is ac¬ companied by benevolence and every social affection. W onstitution ? How does this appear? Why do men pii, -sue particular ob¬ jects? What is said about the difference in capacities? The difference arises from what? What is memory? What is recollection? Is memory/O'mendent on the will? Is recollection ? Example 'rcumstances suggest assistance to recollection LECTURE^lIl—t)JTTOWER. Power is one of the most ambiguous terms in, its sig-4 nificatiqn, in the English language, and: sagtc time the most genera) in its use. It is applied to all the principles of our nature, to all habits and improvements, to all the influence we have over others, to all mechan¬ ics, and In sbprt, to all things that move or are moved. In this lecture we shall confine ourselves more particu¬ larly- to the meaning which it has in the philosophy of the human mind. I observe that the words Can and cannot, able and ■unable, possible and Impossible ?tre synonymous with the term power and the want of it. Thus we say we can, do a thing; that is we have pomr to do it, W e are un¬ able to do a thing, 3. e, wre have not four r to do it, &x\ iPowpr, when applied tothebndy or the mind, means nothing more than a capacity to perform certain opera- tiohs. Thus we speak of the powers of the mfod, the faculties of the mind, find we mean only that the mind: is capable of certain operations which We know jJ^does perform, and not that the mind i* made up of scvpral parts, orcGmasts in several operations as some have vainly imagined. This doctrine,that the mind is a com¬ position, ligS rendered this part of the science of human nature obscure and unintelligible. The mind is to be considered a.1? void of parts, or not composed. It is one, simple, living, active principle or being, which is capa¬ ble of understanding apd choosing. When I understand rimy th{pg» it is my mind that understands it. When I am affected, It is mv mind that is all beted- When I choose, it is my mit|i that chooses. Hence lire- powers and capacilies-of lb* mind or soul arc only its capacity of performing drffeT ent operations. We eay we hare power to think of an obicgt when we do not think of it, to choose when v^do not choose, to love when wC do not love. Tb^'ee of the whole is this, the mindin \fdpabie aj thinking, loving anil ~d\ flei!foe body, means that firmness ^ pnuscles- and tendons by 4$ Which we put other bodies in motion. I have power t© Jift fifty pounds, to move mV body from this place to another, although I choose to do neither. Having ex* plained the term power as we intend to use it, we cow proceed to a farther investigation of this jmpprtant sub¬ ject, We may lay it down as a universal sentiment, that there are some things that wCean doandothers that we cannot do; some things that we can know and other ihing&that we cannot know. I can remote a weight of fifty pounds but 1 c^nilot remove Clinch Mountain. I can know the length and breadth of this roorel, but I cannot know \Vhat General Jackson is thinking about at this moment. So we see that our power is limited within certain bohnds, beyond which we Cannot go. It is also a universal sentiment that any thing is in our power, the performance of which depends upon the wilj. "The body is so far subject to the mind, that in all caseS whenlt is possible, it instantaneously obeys the Choice. We may here observe that the degrees of our power are known by experience. The body, being nothing more than organized matter, fitted to produce motion in other bodies, and capable, within certain lim¬ its, of obeying 4he choice of the mind, will do what the mind Wills till by new choices and greater bxerlinns, we find tfat we can go no farther. A child knows by ex¬ perience when he can walk or Tup,/and a man knows when he can walk twenty miles in a day, or lift One huhdred pounds. A man tells' me he can lift a hundred pounds. I ask,can you lift no morel hp answers, no. flow do you know yon cannot? He answers, I have made repeated triqlkand have not succeeded in the ef¬ fort to lift moire. So limited is ramp that netwithstand1- ing his desires may'be unbounded, yet he cannot move any body whatever, without first mowing his owb J henqe he may easily know to what extent he can pro¬ duce motion in other bodies, and here is the limit or his po\ver over matter. We now spe that the determination of the mind .gives motioft. to the hody, but whether 44 choice is the immediate cause of the motion or not, we1 cannot know. We are not conscious of any agency operating between the choice and the1 motion, yet how the choice can produce the motion is to us wholly in¬ conceivable. We can only extricate ourselves from this, difficulty by resolving it into the will of our Creator, who, in our constitution has established the connection between the cause and the effect, whilst the modus op¬ erandi is concealed from us. The motion of the body and the choice of the mind are so uniformly and instan¬ taneously connected from infancy to old age and death, that their distinction has, been overlooked, not only by the vulgar, but also by the most oflearned writers on this subject: ye!, they are evidently distinct, and should be so considered. We now see the dominion that the mind has over the body in influencing us to certain ac¬ tions. / That capacity of the body, by which it performs the determinations of the mind, is called our bodily strength. This we have at all times, but it lies dormant until by the choice it is put into exercise. There are some motions of the body which do not depend upon the choice of the mind, such as instinctive motions; To these we do not apply the term power. We come, now to consider the dominion the mind has over itself. , We find from experience that in many cases, we can, by our choice give our thoughts a cer¬ tain direction, • This may be made plain by an example. This hour I determine to think on the extent of human power, and to think themext hour on Mathematics. In consequence of my determination a number of thoughts occur relative to the subject. Though many other thoughts may interfere, yet particular attention to the subject will follow the choice, and when 1 choose a new subject, attention follows the choice and is directed to the new subject. My neighbor proposes a bargain to me. I reply, I am not determined yet, but I will think about it. Ifi find it inconvenient or disadvantageous, I 45 tell him it does not suit me, or I do not like it. He in¬ sists on me to think of it. I reply I cannot. . He urges that I can if I will. Hence it appears that the mind has power over itself. Although thinking does not originally depend on choice, yet the particular train or current of our thoughts may be dependent on it. The subject must have been the object of our thoughts before we could choose £> yet when the choice is fixed, a new train of thoughts and choices will ensue. The power of thinking, therefore ' only means the soul's capacity for turning and fixing its attention on a subject. The result of the whole is that bodily motion and the direction of thoughts to particular subjects follow the choice of the mind. But the physi¬ cal cause and the manner of its operation lie beyond our conception. What choice is, and how determined, will be the subject of the two following lectures. Questions on Lecture XIII. What is the subject of this lecture ? The term pow¬ er in general, is applied to what ? In mental philsophy what does it mean ? When applied to body or mind, it means what ? What is the mind ? Power of body means what? What is a universal sentiment with re- fard to power ? When is a performance in our power ? Yom what do we learn the degree of our power ? The body is what? Obeys what? Can the mind move any other body by volition without first moving its own ? What is bodily strength ? Are all motions of the body dependent on the will. Has the mind any power over itself? What? Example. Does thinking originally depend on choice? What then depends on it? What follows choice ? LECTURE XIV—ON THE WILL. What is the will and what is moral agency? The "Will is the soul choosing or determining. It is not a dis- 43 tinct being, as some- have supposed, but is only the act or operation of a being- This is the pommon sense of mankind as appears from the structure of all languages. I am willing, or I will, is a mode of expression common Ao all languages. I, a living, thinking agent, perform the act or operation, or will, floral agenpy is the action of a being under a law. "Man is under obligation to obey the revealed will of his Creator, and reason; is given to him to assist him in discovering his duty. He is therefore to be copsidcred as a moral ageht. This naturally implies that he is ac¬ countable and will be rewarded or punished according to his works. But brutes,acting frbm instipCt only, are nut moral agerits, and therefore not accountable. A man's morals are denominated good Or had, according as his actions are conformed or not Conformed to the standard of his duty. What is free will? I answer I do not knovt what it is. I can have ho conception of its opposite—bound will or choice. If it has no opposite it is as improper to Say jree -will as it would be tp say wise wisdom or foolish folly- I am sensible that phrase has been sanc¬ tioned by long Usage- and that it may appear in me ar¬ rogant to reject it: but in philosophical disquisitions we should not admit the use of any term unless we can fix a distinct meaning to it, and as no such meaning can be fixed here, I shall reject it* I can conceive of a free man and its opposite a bpund man, but if there Were' no such thing as pondage it would be as great folly to talk of freedom, as tpsay a man with a face, when all men have faces. Choosing is as much the law of our nature as it is the law of a rock to gravitate, whether we choose conformably fa the standard ofourdutyor not, that fs whether our choice be good or bad. AH men, are conscious of cpoosing and refusing, and tpey can generally give a reason for their choice or refusal This is a simple representation of the subject and if men would follow the plain road of coramo 41 sense, there wbuld be no difficulty m understanding it. One man chooses a religious course of life because he conceives it to be his duty and to be productive of the greatest happiness. Another chooses merchandising, because it is a means of accumulating wealth. But when you, with parade, bring forward your logical definitions and metaphysical hypotheses the subject i? in¬ volved in obscurity, so that -the refined as well as the plain man can scarcely understand what you inean. Let us now enquire what moral liberty is. Some have defined it to be the power of acting as we please. To this definition I have the following objec¬ tions: T. It cannot be proved that any such liberty exists amonfmenin civilized nations, where the law prevents them from doing as they please, and in savage nations where o-oVerncnent and custom operate as law, there is still less power of acting at pleasure. We are prevent¬ ed, in innumerable instances, by the limited state of our nature from doing as we please, Besides, if this defini¬ tion be true and just, every restraint takes away moral liberty and accountability. The greatest moral liberty is supreme love, which is equally as practicable to Paul and Silas in a dungeon as to Herod on his throne, to the enslaved and ignorant African as to the free and en¬ lightened American. 2nd. I object to this definition of moral liberty be¬ cause the word acting, on which the propensity of the definition depends, is very ambiguous. It may mean either the choice of the mind, or the motion' of the body, or both. This occasions great confusion. The choice of the mind which is the cause, and the motions of tfie body, which are the effect, are improperly blended to¬ gether, when they are distinct, both in perception and name, 'l cannot conceive that thebhoice of my mind and the motion of my body are the same,any morethanthat my choice, and the motion of a pulley or a pendulum are the same. In the former case, I know nothing of any in¬ termediate agency between my choice and the motion 48 of my body; but in the latter case there is necessity for the motion of my body to produce the motion in the pulley, because the pulley is not immediately under the direction of my mind as my body is. If my maker had put a pulley under the immediate direction of my mind as he has my body, then I could have moved the pulley by my choice without the intervention of bodily motion as easy as I now can move my body. 3d. I object because the operations of the mind are too simple to admit of a logical definition. In order to gain an accurate knowledge of human nature, we should attend immediately to the operations of our own minds: the want of this attention has been one great cause of the knowledge of moral science being involved in so much obscurity. The substitution of logical definitions and metaphysical reasoning in the place of this attention will always perplex and involve in obscurity the plainest subject. Some have included all the appetites, desires, propensities, inclinations, passions and affections, under the will, and call them modifications of the will. That this is a great mistake in morals will appear from the following example: I am hungry; consequently I deter¬ mine to eat. Here it is evident that hunger and my de¬ termination to eat are distinct, or if I be too much em gaged otherwise, I determine not to eat, then if my ap¬ petite arid will be the same, they will cease together, but experience teaches us that they do not. Therefore, it is plain that hunger is entirely independent of the will This is true with regard to all the appetites. A man who has acquired a propensity to drink spirits will feel the cravings of that appetite, though he should have a fixed determination of will not to indulge it. Appetite is, therefore prior to choice and independent of it; choice is posterior and dependent. Appetite is the cause, choice the effect. The same may be said of all other propensities, inclinations, passions and affections. It has been asserted by some that we choose our own actions only, but this manner of expression seems am- 4a biguous. If it mean any thing, it must mean barely the motions pf ourbbdi.es. I think it is an universal senti¬ ment that we choose any action that we wish to be done, which depends upon our choice. If this be true, a mas¬ ter may choose the actions of. his servant, who is bound; to obey his will. It is true, he must ypnake his will known before it can be executed. But, if I am not mistaken, the thing to be done and the means for doing it, are always included in the same choice. I choose to raise a weight of five ounces: to effect this a little exer¬ tion of body is necessary, as means. Here I: am con¬ scious of one choice only, which appears to me to in¬ clude both the thing to be done, and the means for do¬ ing it. Again. I choose to lift a hundred pounds: here a greater exertion of bodily strength is necessary, yet, as before said/it is included in the same choice. That one man may choose the actions of another, appears evident from the notion of government, where the ruled are bound to perform the will of the ruler. Some have said^that things out of our power are not objects of our choice. But this assertion appears inac curate, from the following example. I am taken sick at a distance from home; I have a strong desire to be at home; I choose to pursue my journey, but I find it im possible to get home, yet my desire continues the same, though I have determined not to pursue its object. I would rather say, that things known not to be in our /mcer are not objects of our choice. I would only observe farther on this subject-, that the will is the soul choosing or determining, and the thing chosen is called the otyect of choice. There is always some, perception of the object, and some reason or motive which leads the mind to choose. What these motives are, and how they operate, shall be the subject of the next lecture. " ' Questions on Lecture XIV, What is the subject of this lecture X WJiat is the will 1} Ts the will h distinct being? What iajnoral D ' 50 agency ? What is a moral agent ? Why are brutes not moral agents ? When are mans'morals good or bad? What is free will? Why is the term absurd ? Is choosing a law of our nature ? Is choice a simple op- oration of the mind ? How have some defined moral liberty? Is this a correct definition? What objec¬ tions to.it? First? Second? Third? Some have included what in the will ? How is the error shown by an example ? Whether is appetite dependent on choice, or choice on appetite ? Examples. Do we choose our actions of body '!—the actions of others ? Does volition include as its object, both the means and end Do w e choose things known not to be in our power? What is the Will ? It always implies what ? LECTURE XV—ON MOTIVES. Any thing which leads us to choose or refuse, is called a motive. Motives may he considered in two lights; first, as they are in themselves, and secondly, as they affect us. 1st. Motives, considered in themselves, are either stronger or weaker: Thus the improvement of the mind is of more importance than the ornaments of the body. The concerns of eternity are of greater importance than the concerns of this life, and ought to have the prefer¬ ence whenever they come in competition. This appears to me as plain as any proposition in mathematics. In things relating to this life, th6 common 'sense of mankind determines the difference in the strength of motives; no man will hesitate to choose a thousand wounds rather than a hundred, when either of themmayiseobtained on terms equally honorable and easy, and when one only can be obtained. No man can be undetermined whether to educate his own son, or a stranger—when the prospect of their happiness and usefulness in after life, is now the same. These and 51 many others arc easy pases. It is the common sense of mankind that we should choose, that which we judge to be most advantageous to us. If, then, it be the com¬ mon sense of mankind, it is the law of our nature, and if we choose otherwise, we violate a law of our nature, and contradict common sense. 2nd. Motives may be considered as they affect us. Experience teaches that we are, in many cases, less af¬ fected by-the motive that is in itself stronger, than we are by the weaker. The cravings of hunger and thirst are, in many cases, stronger motives to action than higher principles. Even the concerns of eternity do not always affect us more than the low pleasures of this world. We often pursue the gratification of our appetites to the neglect of our more important concerns. Hence it appears that the motive which seems to us to be the strongest, and not that which shoidd appear so, always determines the choice. We proceed to another important division of motives, viz: into external and internal'. . External motives are all the objects in nature, argu¬ ments, commands, threatenings, and advice. The in¬ ternal are all the appetites, desires, passions and propen¬ sities. These appetites, &c., have formerly been ex¬ plained. There is, however, one property that is com¬ mon to all .motives, namely, a desire to attain some ob¬ ject. ' ■ Here a question arises; whether the external or in¬ ternal motives determine the choice■? It seems to be the general sentiment of mankind, that; the 'Internal motives determine the choice. I ask whether, it is food or the desire of food, that determines in me the choice to eat 1 Whether drink or my desire ■ off drink, determines me to choose it'1 1 immediately perceive that it is my desire that is the motive, which moves me to choose. It is the common sense and ex¬ perience of mankind that men do not choose thkt which they' do not desire. Hence we often hear it asked, «2 Why should I choose that for which I have no desire X Thus it appears to be the common, sense of mankind, that desire must precede choice. Again it may be asked, D,o we choose without a mo¬ tive ? I think not. A hian at rest rises up to take ex¬ ercise, but has no particular kind of exercise in view. Here it would seem as though he acts without motive, if wre did not know that his general desire of action is a sufficient motive to general action. Although he had no particular motive to any particular action. A man can never be without motives so long as he is capable of acting. Does the strongest motive always prevail ? I ap¬ peal to experience, and I find universal experience de¬ cides in the affirmative. We shall conclude with a few observations. 1st. Many desires may unite in craving the same ob¬ ject and lead to choice. A rich, virtuous and beautiful woman, of a good family, is an object that excites sev¬ eral particular desires, which ^11 unite and influence the mind to choose. 2nd. The circumstance that gives to motives, in many instances, a deciding influence is very' trifling. A man has occasion to spend one guinea out of a hundred. Which of them shall he take? and what determines him to take one more than another? He takes one, because it is nigher to bis hand, or because it either first or last met his eye. 3d. We sometimes choose contrary to our inclination, but not contrary to the strongest desire. A man, com¬ ing to a river that is swelled by rain, desires to go across, but is afraid ofloseing his life in the attempt, therefore, he determines not to go over. 4th. It has been supposed that the will has a self de¬ termining power; but this is an absurd supposition, be¬ cause it implies that one choice must precede and dr- termine another, and another precede and determi .e thad, and so on back, ad infinitum, which is impossible. It also implies that a volition can be pfiotf to, itself, and both the cause and effect of its own existence 5th. Some have supposed that God has power to do evil: this also is absurd and unphilosophical, because power to do evil implies a will to do evil; therefore, it he has a will to do evil, he must love to do evil, which is totally inconsistent with every idea we can have of a being who is infinitely perfect, holy and righteous. Questions on Lecture XV. What is the subject of this lecture? What do ypil mean by motives ? Motives are of what two classes ? Are motives in themselves different in strength ? Do the strongest motives always effect us most ? Exam¬ ples. What always determines us ? External moiives are what ? Internal are what ? What is common to all motives? Do external or internal motives determine the choice ? Examples. Do men choose without de¬ sire ? What always precedes choice ? Do we ever choose without a motive ? Does the strongest motive always prevail ? What is the first observation ?—the second ?-—the third ?—the fourth ? What reasons are assigned ? What is the fifth observation ? What rea¬ son is assigned ? LECTURE XVI-ON GUILT. By guilt we mean obligation to suffer punishment. Here punishment may be taken in its most extensive signification, including any painful emotion, arising from a consciousness of having done bad actions, or of hav¬ ing entertained evil passions or affections. I would observe, it makes no difference whether the body be the instrument in the suffering or not. The emotion of shame is painful, arising from having done shameful actions, as well as stripes inflicted on the body. It is painful to fall under the censure of our fellow men. Guilt, as accounted by mankind, is of different degrees, &4 from the lowest to the highest. This may be illustrated by an example. If a hunter, in pursuit of his game, should chance to kill his neighbor, when concealed so that he could not be perceived, and should it be made appear that reasonable precaution had been taken by the hunter to guard against injuring any person, lie would be acquitted as not guilty. But if he fired his gun without reasonable precaution, and killed his neigh¬ bor, he falls under the censure of men, but he is not thought worthy ofpunishment. But should it appear that he hated his neighbor, apd shot and killed him, under the pretext of shooting at his game, the judge will pronounce him guilty of nturder and worthy of death. Thus it appears there are different degrees in human guilt. Here a question naturally arises, which we will briefly answer. What constitutes human guilt ? I answer: 1st, The aqtion must be voluntary. 2nd. The actiort must be intended, 3d. The action must proceed from a bad motive. A few examples will make this sufficient¬ ly plain. Ofte man takes hold of the hand of another knd with it striked a third person. Here the second person, who is the instrument in doing the action, is al¬ together free from blame, because he had no intention: but if he had intentionally been the instrument in doing the mischief he then would be equally guilty with him who did the deed. An actioh may be voluntary, and; yet not worthy of blame^ I dim to shoot a highway man who is attempt¬ ing To kill and rob me. 1 miss him and shoot my brother, wnb'is irihocent., I am not accounted guilty, because I did hpt iptehd to kill thy brother, n6r was the action, thbbghyoluhtary, done with a bad design. Hdre iy may be.prbper t6 observe the distinction be- tWcep Volition tfficl intention. Volition respects the ac- tibh of-the bbdy only: Intention regards the effec ts of that action: yet fbr the most tphrt they are viewed as inseparable, beedbse they are so 'nearly*connected. Bu,t IWetitfbh yolitibh. 55 As volition without intention does n>t constitute guilt, so neither does intention constitute it Without an evil mo¬ tive. 1 meet a man on the highway;- he says he will take my lite. I expostulate with him, but to no purpose; he persists, and actually attempts to execute his purpose, but having missed his first aim, I throw a stone and kill him. I am brought to justice. The first question asked by the court is, Was the action alleged performed by me? The second, from what intention was it done— from the intention of making necessary self-defence, or from accident, or from a malicious design against the life of the man who is killed ? If I prove that I did kill him only from the design of making self defence, and that seemed the only possible means of making it, I am acquitted of guilt, because my motive was not bad. But should it appear that I had entertained a premedi¬ tated and malicious design against his life, then I would be found guilty and worthy of death. We should never judge of actions before we are acquainted with the mo¬ tives. Though actions at first view may appear very bad, whilst the motives are concealed, yet, upon a- full investigation they may appear praiseworthy. In my way home I meet my neighbor, conveying away rny proper¬ ty, at first I think him guilty of theft. But on exami¬ nation I find that my house by accident was burnt, and that he has, by running great risk, got it out of the burning house, and is preserving it for my benefit. In¬ stead of prosecuting him as a thief, I thank and com¬ mend him as a kind neighbor. As the merit or demerit of our actions arises from their motives, so also does their denomination. Actions which arise from love, benevolence, &c., are denomi¬ nated good actions, but those which flew from avarice, malevolence, &c., are called bad. We shall new conclude With a few observations. 1st. When we see any person acting under a law We suppose that he kriOWs that law, ©f has it in his pOWer 5G to know it. If he violates that law we account him guilty and worthy of punishment. But if he knows not the law, and has no possible means for knowing it, he is altogether guiltless. Now, our relations to law, ami consequently our duty, ar,ise out of our relationship to God and man, as has been befere observed. Some of these relations are more plain than others. Every man knows that it is wrong to destroy his neighbors life, or fraudulently to take away his property: yet but few of us are acquainted with those things that relate to the m aki ng of peace or war, to commerce, &c. Hence we see the necessity of laws, both human and divine. Here we may observe the difference between the divine law and human laws. The divine law regards not only the actions and motives, but also our most se¬ cret thoughts. But human law regards only the overt act and the motives, as far as they can be learned from the action; for the action discovers the motive, though the discovery may be made more definite and clear by attested circumstances. We never heard of a man being punished according to law, for his wish to com¬ mit theft or murder, without doing the act itself. If mankind had no knowledge whatever of God, and had no possible means of knowing anything about him, they would not be guilty for not fearing, loving and serving him. But if we know him, or have opportunity for knowing him, and do not love, fear and obey him, we are then, in a high degree, guilty. 2nd. We always suppose a capacity to deliberate, to be necessary in order to constitute human guilt. Hence we see how idiots and infants are not accountable for their actions. Yet, a person may have a capacity to deliberate, and the want of time may excuse him. A roan in a crowd receives a blow; he, in the heat of past sion, and without deliberation, strikes and kills a person; This man is not thought guilty of murder. But, if he enters his room, arms himself, and some time after goes in pursuit of his adversary, finds and kills him, he 57 is guilty of murder, because he had time to deliberate. Questions: on Lecture XVI. What is the subject of this lecture ? What is meant by guilt ? Are there different degrees* of guilt? Exam¬ ple. What constitutes human guilt?-—first?—second? Third constituent? Examples. May an action be vol¬ untary and yet blameworthy? Example. What is the distinction between volition arid intention ? Which pre¬ cedes ? Does volition constitute guilt without intention? Does intention without a motive ? Example. What characterize actions as being good or bad ? Explain. What is observation first ? How does the divine law regard the conduct, of men? How do human laws ? Is opportunity to know law necessary to constitute ob¬ ligation? What is observation second? Why are Idiots and infants not accountable for their actions ? LECTURE XVII—ON TASTE. In-treating on this subject we-shall notice three tilings; 1st. The nature of taste. 2nd. Enquire whether there be-any standard'of the seeming difference among men in regard to taste. ' 3d. Consider some of its char- acters, and sources o f impro vement. The term taste, when applied to discourse or writing, is used metaphorically; it. is, therefore, necessary to at¬ tend to its literal meaning. When sugar or honey is applied to a sound palate, it makes an impression which we call a, sweet taste.- ' When vinegar or wormwood is applied,to the palate, it makes an impression which we call a sour or bitter taste. Here'we have but one word to express the different qualities of the objects sugar, vinegar and wormwood, and the different sensa¬ tions they excite in us; yet, no person is at a loss to understand our meaning,, nor to discover the different tendencies, of those objects to produce those different sensations. We can easily discover the difference be- S8 tweerc things that tire simple or unepmpounded, $uoh k* sugar, vinegar and wormwood? bpt wheh several in¬ gredients are compounded, it is more difficult to discov¬ er the composition or the nature of the compound, apd it requires not only a, sound palate, but also much ex¬ perience. By experience we learn td distinguish tb and then attend to 63 their meaning. Now,'as has been befoiv observed, gran¬ deur respects the greatness of objects, and sublimity their height. A widely extended plain is a grand ob¬ ject, but not sublime. A Maypole is'sublime, but not grand. Grandeur and sublimity often unite'in the same object; the starry heavens are both grand and sublime, the shining orbs dispersed there, add greatly to their grandeur. High mountains with broad bases are both grand and sublime, as the'Andes or Alleghany, on ac¬ count of height anil vast extent. The ocean, because vast in extent, and sublime, because it seems to rise and obscure the heavens at thp horizon. Large, rivers are grand objects, such as the Ohio, Mississippi,-Danube and Amazon. Large hills with extensive bases, smooth surfaces and gradual-ascent, are, grand. Wonder is nearly allied to sublimity. Anything that is unaccountable br incomprehensible, excites in the mind wonder. Thus when we contemplate God, who is the most grand -and sublime object that human nature is capable of,contemplating, the immensity of his na¬ ture, hjs inflexible justice, his jnviolable faithfulness and truth, his omnipotence, infinite wisdom and unbounded goodness, fill the* mind with- wonder.—'Immensity of space comes into the estimate of grand and. sublime' ob¬ jects. Hence, all men speak of heaven far above, and hell as far beneath.' Robes of-state are made large, thrones high. In savage nations the chiefs: are dis¬ tinguished by their wearing of higher capd than others wear. Two armies arranged for battle, are grand, and more so'if allarein uniform, and attended bybandsof mu¬ sicians, yet, the associated thought of the havoc 'of hu¬ man life, made in battle, renders the emotion" unpleas¬ ant. As there is sublimity, in objects, so there is in senti¬ ments. The reply- of King Porus to Alexander, is tyuly sublime. When taken prisoner and asked how he ex¬ pected to be treated, answered, "like a King." This showed such firmness, and undaunted valor, that "we u wonder at the seafimenf, becSusd it is so unconjm^ti for risen to speak', thus in such• circumsiances.,, Thedee¬ ply of Governor Ileid, to' a lady -who' w,as employed by the King of England, to brtbe him to sell his country, who offered ten thousand ^pounds for that purpose. "Madam" said he "I am not worth purchasing, and if I were, the King of England is too poor to "do it." Sublim¬ ity does not consist in a multiplicity of high flowing words, but in a subject that i§ sublime, described in the most plain and simple manner. In Moses' descriptipn of creation; there is a most subjime phrase, and at the same time the most simple. "And God said let there be light and there was light." Here we have the great¬ est exertion of power, expressed in the most familiar terms. Also Psalm 18, 0—10. "In my distress I called upon the. Lord, and c,ried unto my God, he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him even into my ears. Then the earth shook and trembled; the foundations also of the hills moved, and were shaken because he was wroth. There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth devoured: coals were kindled by it; he bowed the heavens also and came down, and darkness was under his feet. And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly; yea he did fly upon the wings of the wind." Here the language is exceed¬ ingly Simple and very expressive. In describing a great man, the-leading circumstances of his life, and his most celehi ated actions, should be described in the most plain and simple manner. In the description of objects we should avoid two extremes. J. Coldness or languor, which is called frigidity. 2d. Bombast, which arises from vanity. Bombast is an attempt to raise an object by a description higher than its nature will admit. This is also called rant or fustian. ; Questions oyi Lecture XVIII. What if :the subject of this lecture? Grandeur re¬ gards whatV Sublimity regards what? A wide ex¬ tended plam is what ? A May pole is what ? The 65 Marry heavens what? Why? Wonder is nearly al¬ lied to what ? The most wonderful, grand and sublime bisect is what ? Is there sublimity in sentiments as well as objects? Examples. Sublime sentiments, should bo expressed hovr ? LECTURE XIX—ON BEAUTY. The beauties of nature and art have pleased all men* m a!i ages, but not to an equal degree: for some are more pleased with the same objects than others are. That some things are beautiful., and others the opposite, has always been an universal sentiment. Beauty is a very comprehensive term., and may be applied to a variety of objects, both external and internal. Thus, we say a beautiful horse, a beautiful tree; a beautiful poem. Colour and form are constituents of beauty. Whatever object has its qualities in high perfection, is accounted beautiful. A child will choose a pebble from a large heap, which appears to him to have the most beautiful colour, and neatest form. This choice of the child would also be the choice of a man, provided utility have no influence on him. Colour is the most simple of all the qualities belonging to the beautiful in nature. The most refined colours of art- can never equal in sim¬ plicity and beauty, the colors in the rainbow. Some particular colors please some people more than others according to their association with ideas in different minds. All men have acknowledged the rainbow to be a most beautiful object, and its different colors to be in the highest perfection. In figures, uniformity, and varie¬ ty, contribute greatly to beauty, if the variety be not carried to too great an extent. A circle is more beauti¬ ful than a square, and a square than a polygon; because the variety in the polygon destroys the uniformity in too great a degree. To render an object beautiful, in works of art. itis necessarv to Mention to colour, 66 proportion, regularity, simplicity, and fitness to an end. These are obvious in a well formed house. Colour re¬ gards the materials: proportion requires the materials to be of proper size, and to be neatly put together; regulari¬ ty regards the arrangement of the whole according to rule—that the doors and windows, as to size and distance, correspond with one another, and with the other parts of the building: simplicity respects the omission of all su¬ perfluity and fantastical show of ornament: fitness to amend requires that there be nothing wanting, that is necessary to fit it for answering the end for which it was intended. Now the beauty of a house, a tree or a garden is different from a poem. We should, therefore, attend to its original meaning. Beauty seems to have been originally applied to objects of sight. Objects well formed and of agreeable colour, were always found to excite pleasant emotions: and the term beauty, by an easy transition, has been applied to any objects that ex¬ cite such emotions. Here, for the better illustration of the subject, I would make two remarks. 1st. That the mind is conscious of a pleasant emotion which is excited by the perception of a beautiful object. Here we should observe, that the emotion excited by perception of a beautiful object is pleasant and gay, whilst that which is excited by a grand object, is pleasant and serious. Bnd. That the mind has a belief that the qualities which constitute beauty, do really exist in the object. I have been induced to make these remarks, and especial¬ ly the latter, in order to guard you against some errors, into which some Philosophers some times fall, who say that 'heat, cold, colour, &c., do not really exist in the mind that perceives them.' Yet, they acknowledge that we are convinced by our senses, that these qualities do really exist in the objects: but say also that "nature, for wise purposes, deceives us, and that philosophy sets us right." But it must be a very ridiculous sort of philoso¬ phy that contradicts the common sense and universal 67 experience of mankind. It would be ridiculous to at¬ tempt to convince a man that greenness does not be¬ long to the forest in summer, whiteness to snow, or heat to a hot body. And he would be justly met with con¬ tempt Who would attempt to convince a lover that beauty does not exist in his sweet heart, but exists only in his own mind. But, however ridiculous and unphilosophi- calit.may be, they attempt to prove it by saying that 4by rubbing our fingers over a soft velvet surface, we refer the pleasure we feel to the ends of our fingers, and not to our minds-' But we do the same in all other cas¬ es, that is, ouEtsenses are the only medium by which ex ternal things convey sensation to the mind. I bruise my heel. I refer the pain I feel to my heel. But if my mind were separated from my body, I could not feel this pain. We now proceed to the better illustration of this sub¬ ject, by dividing beauty into two kinds, original and derived. Original beauty is that which an object of itself pos¬ sesses, without any assistance from art, or any relation to any other object. Derived beauty is that which the object receives from art, or from its relation to some other object. The beauty of the sun is original. The beauty of the moon is derived. You will recollect while treating on taste, it was observed that every species of being has peculiar properties oelonging to itself, which distinguish it from all others. Thus man has peculiar properties belonging to him which distinguish him from every other creature. In whatever object we see the peculiar properties of its species, in high perfection, we say that it is a beautiful object. Thus we say & beauti¬ ful man, a beautiful woman, a beautiful horse, &c. In objects, whose beauty is derived, the chief thing to be considered, is their fitness for answering a desira¬ ble end. Thus a plough is a beautiful object when it is well adapted to the end for which ploughs are intended. A ship is beautiful when it is well adapted to the use of commerce and navigation. Any machine ia beautiful e8 when well calculated to answer the purpose for which it was designed. Original and derived beauties frequently are found ip the s^me objects! A horse may possess all the proper' ties belonging to his species in great perfection, and at the same time he may have the training that renders him well fitted for the use of riding, or the draught. A beautiful man inay have his features made spore beauti¬ ful by increase of knowledge, and the cultivation of a sweet temper and amiable dispositions. Simplicity and fullness as well as fitness, contribute to the boauty pf works of art. Objects that are beautiful are without any thing superfluous, and without deficiency. SuperJ fluity Or a defect will always lessen the beauty of any object. This may be considered a good criterion by which to judge of beauty: a just description of a beautiful object yill Cause a pleasant emotion, yetj pot so strong as the object itself, if placed before the senses. Beauty in composition, consists in the proper choice of words, and their'arrangement so as to express the sense clearly and plainly- The style should always be simple and plain, free from bombast, and also frigidness, for the more simple and plain the language is, it is the more .beautiful. The display of ingenuity, design and contrivance adds greatly to beauty in the works of art: but in the works of nature, the most beauty appears in the display there made, of Gods power and wisdom in the adaptation of the means to their respective ends, and these ends tp the promotion of one, the ultimate, greatest and best end. When we take into view the Globe on which we live, and find it furnished with all things necessary for man's temporal happiness, and ornamented With the various beauties, which every where present themselves to our view: When we consider the order in which she moves round the sun in her orbit, to produce the succession of seasons, and also her revolution around her axis, .every twenty four hours, to produce alternately day and night; 69 that she is surrounded by a vast atmosphere for the ben¬ efit of man, and all living creatures: I say, vvbeir we take into view all these things, we may justly; conclude that they indicate infinite wisdom, power and goodness in Him who. formed, preserves and governs the whole. We shall conclude this lecture'with a few observa¬ tions, relative to the beauty of the human frame, as to colour, form, expression and grace. If we examine from the equator to the poles, we will find a variety of col ourin the human species, and probably every nation thinks its own colour the most beautiful. We may observe, that any colour that indicates health and vigor is beautiful, but the color that shows languor and decay is disagree- abfe. The form of the human body is. certainly more beautiful than the form of any other creature with which we are acquainted. The great variety of parts, all formed with exquisite skill, exactly filled to answer their several ends, and adorned with an agreeable mix¬ ture of colours, contribute to make man an object most beautiful. To the beauty of form is added an indescrib¬ able beauty of countenance called expression. The creator has constituted the face of man so pliant and flexible that it expresses almost all the qualities of the mind. That countenance which expresses courage, good sense, compassion and benevolence is beautiful; but on the contrary, that which expresses cowardice, ignor¬ ance, selfishness- and cruelty is truly disgusting. A beautiful countenance in females is that which expresses modesty, sensibility and. humanity; but that which presses wantonness, ignorance and pride is uncomely,!. Gracefulness is a quality of motion, and contributes, to the beauty of man. Graceful motion is that which i s easy, smooth, unaffected and indicates composure, se¬ renity and cheerfulness of mind, prevalence or soma amiable disposition: but an affected, awkward .jerking* violent motion that indicates pain, vanity, pride, laziness; or any odious temper, habit or disposition, is ungraceful and displeasing. 70 Questions on Lecture XtX. What is the subject of this lecture? Does beauty please all men equally ? Do colour and form contri¬ bute to beauty 1 To render an object in art beautiful, we must attend to what? What two remarks are made? How i? beauty divided? What is original beauty? Derived beauty is what? Examples. When does an object appear to have original beauty? In objects, whose beauty is derived, what is chiefly to be consider¬ ed? Do original and derived beauties ever meet in th# same object ? Examples. What would be a good crite¬ rion by wliich to judge of the beauty of objects? The beauty of composition consists in what? The display of what adds beauty to works of art? What is said about colour in the human species?—about the form of tjie hu¬ man body?—hhccountenance? - what expression is beau¬ tiful ?—What is disgusting? What is gracefulness 1 LECTURE XX—INSTINCT, CONCEPTION AND IMAGINATION. . Instinct is a blind impulse impelling to action without a view to consequences, without deliberation, and often without knowing what we do. Thus an infant cries by instinct without knowing it will excite pity in its parent, or be the: means of obtaining sustenance. The instinct of pain causes every other creature to cry. It is by in- blinct that any being, when pained, cries out without consideration. Prompted by a similar impulse, infants, and the young of all animals, suck nutriment from tlieir mothers^ without knowing it to be necessary for the^re- serv&tioa of life, or for the gratification of hunger. The action of sucking is done with great facilhy. The muscles necessary for the performance of all instinctive actions are so constituted that they work without thought or deliberation. An infant breathes without knowing the vivifying quality of the air, or determining to use it for the preservation of life. n In'the progress of human life, experience and obser¬ vation, teach us that there,are many actions for the per¬ formance of wftich;' volition and intention are necessary, and, that,there are many that are to be performed so often, and in so "quick ' succession, 'that we could not deliberate and determine to act every time that action is necfessarv.; In many cases we act without thought or desire, and sometimes even contrary to volition. Thus we continue constantly to breajhe, whether awake or asleep, without thought, desire or attention. If we were obliged to think every time we breathe, or to determine to breathe every lime breath is necessary, it would be impossible to attend to the business of life., To provide against this inconveniency the all-wise author of our nature, has so ordered that, in this case, as in many others, we should act by* instinct,* and independently of design and Volition. \ see the point of a sword, direct¬ ed to my breast; upon its approach I am immediately impelled to start backward, though I am assured that I am in no danger. The frequent winking of our eyes is'necessary to preserve them in a state of soundness and lustre. This we perform with' the greatest ease and without any predetermination to- do it; nor can we easily prevent ourselves from winking. If my friend make a motion at my face with his hand, although I am determined at first not to shut my eyes, yet at the ap¬ pearance of approaching danger instinct overcomes my determination, and 1 am impelled to shut them instinc¬ tively.' There are many other cases in which we are actuated exclusively by instinct. When we slip, we lose that balance which is necessary to keep the body upright and firm, we are immediately prompted to re¬ cover ourselves, by throwing out our hands or some other motion ofuhe body which is necessary to restore the equilibrium; and tf we find this impossible, we throw out our arms to break'the fall. The actions of the in¬ ferior aginials are performed by instinct generally, but those of men by reason. That animals come to perfec- n tion so soon is very remarkable. We have no reason to believe that bees now build their' cells in a mariner different from that in which they built them in Virgil's time, or that they have made any great improvement in their manner. But every work of art has had an in¬ ventor, who discovered and designed it, and constant improvements are made in works pf art, from age to age. That this is not the case in the works of inferior animals is evident from experience and, observation—rfrom the wonderful construction of the nests of many birds, the productions of the silkworm, the webs of -spiders, and' the unexampled skill exhibited in the combs of bees; all these' exceed the works of any artist. It is well known that bees construct their cells on opposite sides, fit for holding the honey and rearing their young. There are only three possible figures that will make cells all equal and similar, without any variation: viz, the equilateral triangle, the square, and the regular hexagon. Of these three the hexagon is the most proper for convenience and strength. The bees, as if they knew this, make their cells regular hexagons. As the combs have cells on both sides, the cells may be exactly opposite, with par- tition against partition, or the bottom of the cell may rest upon the partion between the cells on the other side which will serve as a buttress to strengthen it. The latter way is the best for strength. Accordingly the bottom of each cell rests against the the point where three partitions on the other side meet,# and give it aJi possible strength. The bottom of the cell may be either one plane, perpendicular to the side partitions, of it may be composed of several planes, meeting* in a point in the middle. It is only in one of these two ways that all the cells can be made similar without loseing any room. Now it has been demonstrated that by making the-bottoms of the cells to consist of three planes meet¬ ing in a point, there is a saving of materials and labor. The bee, as if acquainted with the principles of solid ge¬ ometry, follows this manner of construction mqst ac- T3 eurately: the bottom consists of three planes, which make obtuse angle's with the side partitions and with one another, and meet in a point in the middle of the bottom; the three angles or planes being supported by the three partitions on the other side of the comb, and the point by the common intersection of the partitions* It has been a curious question, "At what precise angle the three planes, which compose the bottom of the cell, should meet to make the greatest saving of materials and labor!" The solution of this question clearly shows that the bee, in making its comb, works most geometrically without knowing any thing of Geometry. But the truth is, the geometry or wisdom displayed in making its comb, is not in the bee; it works by instinct. It is by instinct that the young of animals are prompt¬ ed to suck the dugs of their mothers, without knowing that this is necessary for the support of life. By instinct the infant is soothed by the smiling countenance of its mother, and affrightneed by her angry countenance. In man there is a kind of instinctive imitation. Thus, if a man come into a neighborhood of people, whose customs and dialect are different from his own, and at first even disagreeable to him, yet, by frequent in¬ tercourse, he will adopt their dialect and many of their customs. It is, therefore, highly important that young people should be very careful in choosing the company they are to keep, while their passions are strong and they are more prone to imitation than they will be when they shall arrive at riper age; for by keeping bad com¬ pany, they are likely to contract bad habits, that will prove injurious both to their present and future welfare. It is very difficult to restrain evil habits when they have been formed, even when their injuriousness is dis¬ covered. We come now to explain conception and imagination. Conception is the image, notion or representation, which the mind forms of an absent object. When m \ • F 74 friend is present, I pdrcaive him and am conscious that I perceive him a-s being present; but when he is absent I remember hiifi, and when I form an image • of his struc¬ ture, complexion, &c., I\ have a 'conception of him. Memory respects what is past, , but conception is not limited to any point of tirhe. I can remember that I have seen Philadelphia, but I can only have a concep¬ tion of ancient Troy. Memory does not always im¬ ply; conception: for I can remember that I saw a person twenty years-ago; but can have ho conception of his size, shape or complexion. Nor-does conception al¬ ways impty belief of the, real existence of its object. If any person would describe to me the structure of a Centaur, I could conceive of such a being, yet, I firmly believe that no such thing ever existed. Some philoso¬ phers have asserted that belief is never implied in con¬ ception; but I am led by experience to think otherwise^ When I conceive of my absent friend, I as firmly' be¬ lieve that my conception of him , is true, as that he is my friend. . Imagination is a complex operation, and not easy to be understood. I shall, therefore, analyze it. I can form an image in my mind, of a horse seven feet high, and having wings and claws. -Here it is easy to per¬ ceive that memory, invention and conception are es¬ sentially necessary in forming- this image in my mind. I remember that I have s'een a horse and wings and claws. Invention joins them together and extends the image to the 'height of seven feet. By conception I form a rep¬ resentation of the image thus composed. Imagination )i4era% signifies the discovery of some thing before un¬ known; 1 think in imagination we are' always con¬ scious of an effort, Thus, I form in my mind the image of the horse above mentioned. I have to call to mind the idfea of a horse, extend him by imagination to seven feet in height, and tlien ■ conceive of the image thug form d It is or of operations without an operator 1 LECTURE XXII—THE RELATIVE STATE OF MAN CONTINUED. Immensity is that property of the divine being by which he is, at all times, every where present, Here a question arises, whether space can be, with propriety, applied to spirit ? A spirit cannot operate where it is not. God^s operations can be circumscribed within no smaller bounds than the utmost extent of creation, which can only be known to himself. His presence, therefore, must be in ail space, included within the limits of creation- If God be an infinite spirit he may not only fill the limits of creation with his presence, but immensi¬ ty of space unlimited. We know that created spirits are limited in their operations. With, regard to our¬ selves, we know that our spirits are confined to our bod¬ ies while connected with them, that we are here and no where else. Wisdom, as a property of God, is infinite knowledge, and implies his aim at good ends, and the knowledge of the best means for accomplishing good efids. In all the works of creation, at least as far as we know, the best means have been used for the accom¬ plishment of the best ends. Power is that perfection by which God is able to fio all things that are objects of power. Two opposites cannot both at the same time be proper objects of power. It is no limitation of God's power to say, that he cannot make a thing exist and ht tile same time not exist. Power is a term of very gen* eral signification, and is applied to every fining that moves oris moved. When it is applied to ourselves wo have some idea of mechanical force, because we are so limited in our nature that we cannot move any other body without first moving our own, and being so accus¬ tomed to use the term whqn such force is applied, wo ss generally affix the idea df power to the idea of mechani¬ cal force, but when the term is applied to the supreme being, no mechanical force should be conceived to be in¬ cluded, because he is purely a spirit; and the term pow¬ er, when applied to him means nothing more than his will, as evidently appears from, the description Moses gives of creation's work: "And God said let there be light and there was light." He wills the effect a,nd im¬ mediately it Comes to pass. We have something simi¬ lar to this in our constitution. We find from experience that the choice of our minds determines the motions of Our bodies, and as long as the volition continues, so long the motions continue, fcdo it is with the supreme being. lie Isas move power over all the material uni- icrse, than we have over Our own bodies. He can move all bodies with greater ease than we can move our fingers. The holiness of God is the aggregate of all his moral perfection, and includes his justice, goodness and truth. ♦Sin, its opposite, is a general term also, which is used to, express all moral evil. Justice is1 a fixed and unalterable disposition in Hod to render to all, that which is due to them, whether re¬ wards or punishments. Goodness is a disposition, to promote happiness and show kindness.. Mercy express¬ es a modification of goodness, and is a placable dispo¬ sition in God. Goodness has foi" its object the happi¬ ness of beings that are not illdcserving and capable of enjoying happiness. But mercy has lor its object the happiness of beings capable of enjoying il, that are both miserable and illdeservinm or guilty. Truth is that perfection of the divine nature that makes it impossible for God to lie. Falsehood amongst creatures always arises from weakness, or from wicked¬ ness in them, but in God thorc is no weakness nor wicjt- eduusM, consequently there can be in him no want of veracity or integrity. Faithfulness docs not essentially differ from truth, and is nothing moie thuu a tuiform t3 and persevering conformity with his truth and other attributes pledged for the accomplishment of certain ends. With this infinitely perfect* being man is connected in important relation?, out of which arise certain rights, and, obligations. 1st. Man is related to God as his Creator. Hence God has a right to require man to submit to his will, and man is under obligation to render to him this submission,, for right and obligation always imply each other. Man ha? the right to use or dispose of, at pleasure, the pro* duct of his own industry and skill. 2nd. Man is related to God as to a benefactor. . God has not only made man capable of enjoying happiness, hut also has furnished him with innumerable and inesU- timable objects of enjoyment. Whenever favors are received, the receiver is laid under the obligation of gratitnde to his benefactor and is bound to use tjiepi as the will of the giver prescribes. 3d. Man is related to God as to his law-giver. It is God's undoubted right to give la\ts for the government ■of his intelligent creatures and beneficiaries. . Hence arises obligation resting on us to yield obedience to his laws. It is a universal sentiment that the right to make laws implies a correspondent obligation to obey those laws. 4th. Man is related to God as to his Judge. Man is so constituted by bis maker that he has a sens6 of re¬ sponsibility when he learns his duty, and feels his obli¬ gation to perform. This lays us under obligation to study to have all our moral conduct, such as will meet his approbation. As these relations make our general obligation.to God sufficiently plain, we shall now consider the duties we owe to him as they may be summed up under two classes, first, internal, and second¬ ly, external duties. 1 st* The internal duties maybe comprehended un¬ der two heads, 1. A moral state, bias, disposition or in- 84 clination of soul, such as Adam had before the fall, predisposing us to give the preference to right moral conduct when discovered. 2. Right mental exercis¬ es; which may be arranged under three heads, /ovc, fear and trust. Under love are comprehended esteem* gratitude and every benevolent passion, which have lor their object God as a being possessing lovely pro¬ perties. A question has been oiten raised whether "Love to God be disinterested or selfish!" When we love in¬ ferior objects, our love may be selfish or disinterested, or it may be mixed. When I love an object merely for its own excellence, without any view to my own happiness, this is disinterested love; but when I love an object only because I see it is calculated to promote my happiness, then my love is selfish; so when 1 esteem an object for its amiable qualities which I perceive, and also for its adaptedness as a means to promote my happiness, I call this mixed love. I doubt not but the mind may be so wholly occupied in the contemplation of God, as to have no regard to self, but is not the mind happy in this contemplation? If so, will it not desire the continuation and increase of this happiness? And when it has sub¬ sided will it not seek the renewal of it, by resorting to the contemplation of the same lovely object? It is im¬ possible for the soul of man, constituted as it is, to de¬ sire misery, or be indifferent as to misery or happiness. Where there is no desire, there can be no gratification, and where there is no desire, a stimulus, prompting to action, will be wanting. God is a proper object of de¬ sire as well as of esteem; loving God, therefore, is a gratification of that desire, and desire a motive exciting us to pursue gratification. Fear includes those exer¬ cises that are expressed by the terms awe, reverence, &e., which have for their object a being of infinite great¬ ness, majesty, wisdom and power, as well as purity. That servile dread that arises out of a sense of guilt, distrust and hatred of God, being not dutiful, is not in¬ cluded in this class. The perfect exercise of love to 85 God, casts this slavish fear out of the heart. Trust is a continual reliance on God for all we need, and submission to be at his disposal and ordering, with all our interests, and implies a confidence that all things are to be well under his management. This class has for its object God, as a being of infinite veracity, faithfulness, goodness, power, wisdom and immutability. This class of exercises spring up in the mind from a perception of its object, of God's promises, and of I hose promises as being made to us. 2nd. Having very briefly brought to view the internal duties we owe to God, we proceed to the consideration of the external. The external duties may be all summed up in few words. They are all proper expressions of the internal exercises, love, fear and trust. If the internal exercises be really due to God, and if he has so constituted us that we are capable of making the external expression of them, this external expression also must be due to him; and if due to him, he who is infinitely just and faithful, cannot fail to require it of us. The external ex¬ pression of the internal sentiments, is made by prayer, thanksgiving and praise, by keeping all God's ordinan¬ ces and obeying all his commandments. Though we cannot render God more happy or glori¬ ous in himself, who is already infinitely happy and glo¬ rious, by our loving, fearing, trusting, and worshipping him, yet these are duties, which ought to be performed, because the performance is justly due to him. The performance of them is profitable to ourselves, as the means by which right mental exercises are cultivated, cherished and strengthened—as the means by which our minds may be chastened, elevated, assimilated to the moral likeness of God, and prepared for communing with him, and for fellowship with holy beings. Questions on Lecture XXII. What is God's immensity?—his wisdom? Wisdom G 86 always implies what ? Can two opposites be both pro¬ per objects of power at the same time? When power is applied to ourselves, what idea is always included in the term? When applied to God should the idea of mechanical force be included ? Why ? What does the term mean when applied to God ? Examples. What in our constitution resembles this? Has God more power over the universe, than we over our bodies ' What is the holiness of God?—his goodness?—mercy ? What has goodness for its object?—mercy for its? Truth is what? Falsehood always arises from what ? What is faithfulness? Eights and obligations arise out of what? In what relations is man connected with God ? What rights of God arise out of these relations? What obligations on men rise out of them? The duties we owe God are of what two classes ? The internal comprehend what? What do you mean by aright moral state? How may right mental exercises "be classed? Love comprehends what ? What its proper object? What properties may love for inferior objects have? When is it disinterested? When selfish? When mixed? Examples. When is our love to God disinterested ? Are we interested in loving God ? Is a desire of happiness constitutional in man ? Can there be gratification when there is no desire? What prompts men to the contemplation of lovely objects? Fear in¬ cludes what ? What are their proper objects i What is excluded from this class? Why? Trust is what? Trust implies what ? They have for their proper ob¬ jects what? They rise in the mind from what ? The external duties we owe to God may be summed how? How does it appear that this external expression is due to God from us? How is the expression to be made ? Is the expression to benefit God ? Why should it be practised ? How may it be beneficial to ourselves ? LECTURE XXIII—ON CONSCIENCE. The soul, mind or spirit of man is a living, thinking, active, immaterial being, endued by its creator with sus¬ ceptibilities and capacities, which render it a fit subject of moral government. The soul is so constituted that it is susceptible ot knowledge, and also of emotions or im¬ pressions corresponding with its knowledge. The soul is endued with a capacity for comparing known objects and for discovering a difference between virtue and vice, right and wrong, good and evil, when presented to its view—a capacity for feeling obligation, to obey a moral ruler, when he and his rightto rule, and his will are known—a capacity for knowing by immediate percep¬ tion of its own exercises and acts when its attention is di¬ rected to them—a capacity for feeling pleasure when its own acts are perceived to accord with the laws-'"pre¬ viously known, and remorse and horror, when they are seen, to be contrary it. The soul is also endued with a capacity for choosing and refusing"objects, and for ex¬ ercising agency according to its own determinations. These susceptibilities, capacities and faculties, are con¬ stitutional principles, with which the human soul is in¬ dued by its creator. They belong to its nature and are innate, and not acquired. Having these constitutional principles, man is a moral being and a fit subject for moral government. As soon as the knowledge of his obligation to obey his ruler, and of the will of his ruler, as a rule of conduct, is acquired, he has a sense or feeling of obligation to obey, res'ing on him. Idiots and inferior animals, not being indued with these constitution¬ al principles, are not moral beings and are not respon¬ sible to God as a moral governor; but we, who have thern are responsible, and conscious of a sense of our responsibility to God for our exercise of moral agency. What is conscience? various are the senses in which the term has been used, and different lexicographers have given various definitions of it. From this circum¬ stance, the most, if not all the disputes on this subject have no doubt arisen, whilst the disputants have not dif¬ fered so much in their views of the comprehension of the 88 term. The term "conscience is a Latin participle trans¬ ferred to the English language and is used by us as a noun, being changed only in its last syllable. Consciens, in latin, is composed of two words, con, which signifies together, or in connection with, and sciens, which means exactly what we express by the word knowing. Some have used the term as the name of a distinct innate fa¬ culty of mind; some as the name of some emenation from God, infused into the mind to guide man to the knowledge of his duty; and others, as a name given only to that sense of guilt, remorse and horror which the guilty feel, or that pleasure which follows virtuous ac¬ tion. Regardless of these and other senses in which in dividuals have used, the term. I would define it agree¬ ably to its original meaning and the sense in which it is used in the Bible. ' Conscience is the mind viewing its own acts in rela¬ tion to a moral rule previously known and felt to be binding, and deciding or judging those acts to be agree¬ able to that rule. The mind becomes acquainted with its own acts only by consciousness or immediate perception.—Its capacity for being conscious or immediately perceiving its'own acts, its capacity for comparing them with the law, and deciding on their moral character, and its capacity for knowing the law and for feeling obligation to obey it, are all natural or innate capacities in man. These ca¬ pacities may be improved but are never acquired. But the knowledge of our actions,-of what the law requires and forbids, and of our obligation to obey, and also the judgment we pass on our- own acts in the exercise of those innate capacities, are not innate but acquired. We obtain certain knowledge of our own acts by consciousness whenever the attention is turned to them. But the knowledge of God's law, we can acquire only by the instrumentality of our bodily senses, exercised in learning it as revealed by the Bible, and by his works of creation and providence, and by our reasonable facul- 89 ties exercised in view of this revelation- Conscience, then, is the exercise of the human mind, and a result in¬ separable, both from innate capacities and from acquired knowledge and feeling of obligation. All we know of Cod, or of his law, or of our obligation we have acquired from the manifestation which he has made of himself, his law and our obligation, and from our perception of what lie has manifested. Conscience is therefore, not one simple operation of the mind only, but a combina¬ tion of many operations. An example will make this plain. I swear profanely. Conscience condemns me as cniUv, as a consequence of mv swearing profanely. This judgment of my mind that I am guilty, implies a knowledge that the deed is done and a consciousness that I myself have done it; it implies that I know a law which forbids profane swearing as a crime. I must know also that that law was binding on me and required me not to do that deed.—It also implies a comparison of what I have done with my obligation to do otherwise, and a consequent perception of my act as contrary to my obligation.—Ilence follows the decision or judgment that I am guilty of violating my obligation to''obey the law, and that I now deserve punishment. All. these operations of mind are included in what we call con¬ science and each one is essential, to it. They are all the consequence.of the mind's attention being directed to the act, the law, &c., and the effects of truth brought to bear upon the mind, and are the mind operating accord- in^ to those constitutional capacities with which it is endued by its Creator. The infant of a day having not the knowledge of law eft-of obligation to law, and having no opportunity for receiving the knowledge of law or a sense of obligation, for wanf of the developement and exercise of its innate capacities, cannot either approve or disapprove of its ov/n actions. Here there is no law and can be no transgression. The heathen whose capacities are de- i>0 veloped and exercised, are a law, unto themselves, ha\- in.g the law written on their minds. Their conscience accusing or excusing is proof of this. Their mental operations being more or less under the law of their own rational and moral nature, they cannot but perceive evidence of the existence of a Supreme Being exhibited by the light of nature. The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his handy work. From this light of nature they learn that there is a dif¬ ference between pleasure and pain, between right and wrong, truth and falsehood, obligation and independence, relative to some moral rule. Hence they have their idols and their forms of idolatrous worship. They have their national laws, by which they encourage the prac¬ tice of many virtues, such as truth, fidelity, justice, &c., amongst themselves, and punish and suppress many vices such as crimes, frauds, impiety towards their gods, &c. Having the light of nature thus to teach them correctly corcerning God and the relations they, as his creatures and beneficiaries, sustain to him, and con¬ sequently their obligation to him, and having their un¬ derstanding more or less exercised in learning these in¬ structions, and their agency exercised in conformity or opposition to these instructions, they are prepared for the exercise of conscience and for feeling pleasure or pain from a view of their actions as being right or wrong. The possession of constitutional capacities for obeying God's law alone, does not constitute a ground of obli¬ gation to obeV, without the opportunity for knowing the law and obligation to it, more than the publication of the law and its obligation 011 men alone, would bind men to qbedience if they were destitute of the constitutional ca¬ pacities. Both the capacities and the publication are r.necessar.y to lay a ground of obligation. Tho heathen have both, and having both, this constitutes a ground of obligation to obey the law as far as it is revealed. Con¬ scious of having the capacity and of the perception of 01 the law as revealed by the light of, Nature, they have.a sense, of obligation to obey. Hence they are. a law unto themselves, and their minds approve or condemn their conduct accordingly^ These constitutional capacities, the knowledge of duty and a turn,of mind, inclination or dispositionito obey, constitute ability or power. • Though these,capacities and this knowledge lay the grO.und of obligation, yet they do not constitute power to obey it without the disposition, more than the disposi¬ tion would constitute power without the capacities or knowledge. They are all three essential constituents of power. . ■ . , A man may have a general disposition to obey God. This may give rise to a particular disposition for the performance of a particular part of his duty, but fail to excite a disposition essential to the performance, of an¬ other part of duty. This failure must be a consequence of a'misconception of the duty, or the counter influence of some vicious appetite, desire, habit or particular dis¬ inclination. The constitutional capacity, and opportuni¬ ty to know duty, then, and not power to perform it, lay the ground of man's obligation. ' . ■ His having power, which includes a disposition to do duty, would excuse, a failure to perform it, whilst the want of a disposition leaves him without excuse at the bar of God or of his own mind. When civil law is en¬ acted and published, every man .is considered as under obligation to obey it, because he has the constitutional capacity for knowing and obeying it, and also oppor¬ tunity to know his duly; his disposition to obey or dis¬ obey does not affect his obligation. The man who is disposed to pay his debts is neither more nor less bound to do so, than the man who is not disposed, God's law requires menfo love him,Who is infinite lovely, with supreme affection. The law is published, supreme ex¬ cellence is exhibited, the man who loves him supremely is no more bound to love him than he who hates him. Inclination or moral state ©f mind in man oanndt alter his obligation nor the operations of concience. If it could, then the deliberate murderer ough: not to be punished, and the more he is inclined to cothmit murder he would be the less guilty; but the opposite of this is trhe. The more a man is inclined to hate God and practice nil manner of wickedness, when he reflects upon his incli¬ nations and obligation and seek the contrast between them, he is the more sensible of guilt, Ilence a man in the world of ruin, when he can never forget the obliga¬ tion he has been under to obey God, nor forget that an evil inclination led him to disobey, will ever reproach and condemn himself as guilty and deserving of pun¬ ishment. The feeling of remorse, terror and Jiorrnr cannot be prevented nor suppressed by the present evil disposition nor the will. As loner as the unfailing mem¬ ory will retain the knowledge of guilt, as the attention which can never cease, will be directed to it, so long will the operations of conscience inevitably continue and the consequent torment be perpetual Conscience has been called the voice cf God, a mon¬ itor for God, and God's vicegerent, iri the human breast! It is such when the mind is sufficiently enlightened and its decisions .accord with his revealed laws. The question "Whether conscience is natural and in¬ nate, or acquired and the effect of education?" has been often controverted with zeal and devotion.—We con¬ sider this question as both very improper and absurd, because opposite answers may be given to it, which are both true. If we say conscience is natural and innate, because the constitutional capacities, essential to con¬ science, are natural and innate; this is undoubtedly true, If we say that conscience is acquired and the effect of education, because the knowledge of law, the feeling of obligation, and the decision of the mind, which are es¬ sential to conscience, are acquired and the effect# of education; this is equally true. Again, if we say that conscience is not natural, or innate, because the knowl¬ edge of law, obligation, &c., essential to conscience, are 93 not natural or innate, but acqu'red; this is. true. If we say conscience is not acquired nor the effect of education, because the constitutional capacities, essential to con¬ science, though they may he improved, are not acquired nor the effects of education; this also is true, t Those who consider the term, conscience, as compre¬ hending the constitutional capacities only, which are es¬ sential to conscience, would consistently with this view, contend for the proposition, that conscience is natural and innate. Those who consider it as embracing only the exercise of these capacities and the knowledge, which are essential to conscience, would with equal con¬ sistency, advocate the proposition'that conscience is ac¬ quired. Each has correct views of that part of the sub¬ ject embraced by his definition of the term; but both are wrong in excluding from the meaning of the term, an essential part of its meaning. Conscience is the mind exercising its natural or innate capacities in viewing its own actions as they are related to a moral rule previous¬ ly known and felt to be binding, and deciding or. judging that those actions are agreeable or disagreeable to that rule. AN ESSAY OUT LIFE. Life is not a being, but a state of being, in something which exists. Its opposite is death. Both life and deal]; are alike predicated on the same being, which at one time is alive, and at another time is dead. Mind can exist only, in the living state, but, matter, organised or unorganised, may exist as matter in either state. There are different kinds of life belonging to different orders of living beings. Thegreat "I am," the only living God, possesses life which is underived, necessary, indepen¬ dent, immutable and eternal. Created minds possess another kind oflife, which is essential to their existence as minds. Man, who.is the connecting link between the material and immaterial worlds, has, superadded to the life last mentioned, a life which he enjoys.in common witli other animals. This is denominated animal life. When we descend still lower to the vegetable kingdom, we perceive the phenomena of another, and inferior kind of life, which is denominated vegetable life. In those different states of living beings, we discern a regular gradation, so that each inferior state evidently approximates to that which is next in order above it; which all agree in exhibiting, but in different ways, the phenomena of life. Our ideas of life are' originally derived from con¬ sciousness. I am conscious of the operations of my own mind, of the reality of my existence as a person— that I have a body, and that this body is alive. These propositions need no proof, because they are sell-evi¬ dent, nor do they admit of proof because there are no principles more evident, from which their truth could be deduced in a process of reasoning. My belief, there¬ fore, of my existence as a living and animated beipg, simply rests on the testimony of consciousness.- But I am not conscious of the mental operations or animated ■existence of other beings; consequently, my belief of their existence as minds, or as animals, or as living sub¬ stances depends on another kind of evidence, either the testimony of other persons, or my own perception of certain phenomena of life, which they exhibit. This kind ol evidence, however, could not produce in our minds a belief that such beings do exist in the living state, had not we, previously derived some ideas ofiife from our own consciousness. If, then, our ideas ofiife are primarily derived from consciousness, the best mode of correcting any false ideas we may acquire on this subject will be, to analyze the operations of our own minds in relation to life, arid view them accurately in detail. . As different kinds of life, exhibiting different phenom¬ ena, exist in man, he is evidently formed for having intercourse with other grades of living beings, both su¬ perior and inferior to himself. No general definition of life can be given,that will apply to any two different kinds of life, because each kind, in some respects es¬ sentially differs from every other kind. I know not that we ever have a direct and intuitive knowledge of life itself, aside from the phenomena it exhibits. We know that inert matter, whether in a moving or quiescent state, is always in a state of mo¬ bility; but this knowledge is derived not from an intui¬ tive perception of this state of matter, but from the phe¬ nomena exhibited by it in the state of motion. So our consciousness ofiife results from our attention to some of the phenomena of the mind and of the body in a liv¬ ing state. We are apt to err on the subject of life, from considering it as a being having real existence, or as the quality of an existing subject. It is not a being, and therefore does not possess any one of all the properties of mind or matter. It is not a quality, because when ab¬ stracted, the subject to which it belonged remains es¬ sentially the same. The soul and body of man dis¬ united undergo a change of state, yet retain their pri¬ mary qualities. 96 Another source of error is the confoundingof life itself, with the phenomena and evidence of life from which it ought to be distinguished. Life is that state in which the living being, under favorable circumstances, will exhibit the various phenomena of life, which cor¬ respond with such a state; and the phenomena, when perceived, are to us so many evidences that the being, in which they are exhibited, is in a living state. But the same being in the opposite state, or when dead, ceases to exhibit, when under the same circumstances, every one of these phenomena. There are various different states in which living matter may exist. If we trace an animal from its ex¬ istence in embryo to its state of maturity, and from ma¬ turity to the verge of declining life, at every step we are met by a succession of changes. We see it motionless, and again in active excitement—asleep and presently awake—conjealed with chilling frosts, and afterwards resisting cold with all the energies of vitality—in a death-like torpor, with every sense completely locked and every power dormant, then, after weeks and months have past them in this state of insensibility, again re¬ newing every animal and vital function, and exhibiting all the phenomena of perfect life. Life may be truly predicated of a being though, some of its members be destroyed, and some of its functions ceased to be performed. We know not how far the work of destruction may possibly extend, and yet vi¬ tality be still preserved. This, however, is certain. An animal may still be alive after many of its limbs have been amputated, and after the the process of putri- faction has widely spread its ravages. Perhaps the general decomposition of the body is the only infalible indication of extinguished life. Life is prior to all the phenomena peculiar to the living state. It is vitality co-operating, with the appropriate stimuli by wnich all these phenomena are produced. When a change of state, from life to death, has occur- 97 «d, the same stimuli, operating on the same organized substance, prove inadequate to the production of any one of all the phenomena of life, but, a series of af¬ finities which denote the absence of life is the only re¬ sult. It appears to be a dictate of common sense, that all the phenomena peculiar to the living state, depend as well on the preexistence of life itself, as on the influence of stimuli. For this reason most of the phenomena ap¬ parent in animated beings, are commonly expressed by verbs indifferently used, either in the active or passive voice. Such language is so common and-familiar, that we often use it in a vague or figurative manner, to ex¬ press the motions of dead matter, especially those which bear some resemblance to the phenomena of life. From the view I have taken of this subject, I am lead to reject all the theories of life, which are founded on the suppositions that life is a substance, either material or spiritual—that it is a primary quality of a substance —or that it is the same with irritability, excitability or a susceptibility of impressions from stimuli; and to adopt the conclusion, that life is simply a state of being, which state is coeval with the existence ofits living sub¬ ject, and in which the living being, under the influence of appropriate exciting powers, will exhibit those phenome¬ na, which are objects of its original destination. In consistency with this conclusion, I consider the terms health and disease, watchfulness and sleep, excitement and torpor as expressing so many modifications or changes of the living state, which are attended with different phenomena, but are not inconsistent with vi¬ tality; and the term death, as expressing that final change of the vital state, which is incompatible with life and all its functions. The second inquiry is: What are the distinguishing phenomena of mental, animal and vegetable life 1 To find a satisfactory solution of this question, it will H 08 be necessary to take a- general view, at least of the most prominent phenomena of the three kinds of life mentioned. Examples of the two first we find in man, and of the last in the vegetable kingdom. Man is a compound being, composed of substances whose natures and qualities are essentially different. That mind and matter are combined in the constitution- of man, has been the common sentiment of mankind in all ages and all nations. It would be strange indeed, if not wholly incredible, that a belief so common and uni¬ versal, should have no foundation in truth. But this belief, while it accords with reason, is yet independent of it, and rests on the testimony of consciousness. Man, in the present state of his existence, is conscious that he possesses a body. He betrays this consciousness, when he resists or evades the operation of such physical caus¬ es as threaten to make an unfavorable impression upon it. He is equally conscious of the existence of a think¬ ing principle. This thinking principle possesses proper¬ ties inconsistent with, and dissimilar to all the known properties of the body. It can travel, if I may use the figurative expression, from world to world without mo¬ tion and without change of position. Can this be truly- predicated of any material substance? The distinguishing phenomena of mental life, are the various exercises of the understanding, the affections' and the will. Where one of these faculties exists, and wherever one of these phenomena is exhibited, there, the presence of a living and immaterial substance is infalk- bJy indicated. The following statement will give a concise and gen¬ eral view of the phenomena of animal life. An animal, that it may continue to live, "must have the free use of air, as applied by the organs of respiration. In order to grow, it must have likewise food, which is a sub¬ stance somehow adapted to its constitution; and which,. on being received into the system, is prepared by di¬ gestion—taken up by absorption—distributed by ciixula- 99 tion-—assimilated by nutrition. And the whole carried dn by means of secretion. We again may perceive that" the functions are all dependent on a general principle—irritability. By which the system is rendered by stimulants susceptible of motion—accommodates itself to different circum¬ stances by means of habit—alters its shape by succes¬ sive transformation—produces the species by generation, and when the business of life is finished, is after many a languid affection, sleep. It is at last subjected to the fate of all living bodies, death."—Dobsons Encyclopedia. To the above statement we may add, that animated bodies have the property of preserving a temperature, ■either above or below, as necessity may require, the surrounding medium in which they may happen to be placed, and of resisting the operation of other physical causes, which, if operating on the same bodies when devoid of life, would infallibly produce decomposition and putrifaction. These phenomena, however, when collectively viewed, ^an constitute a very obscure line of distinction between the animal and . vegetable kingdoms. Most of them exist in greater perfection in animals; yet, something very nearly allied to each is perceptible in plants. Were we hereto terminate our views of the animal economy, we would be strongly tempted to consider animals and vegetables, as only different species of one common genus. But extending our views a little farther, we discern the phenomena of sensation and voluntary motion, which are true characteristics of animals. Now if the vis entrtice, or inactivity of matter, which universally is ac¬ counted one of its essential properties, be no philosophi¬ cal illusion, it then follows that something more than matter enters into the composition of every animal, which makes it capable of feeling pleasure or pain, and of voluntary, action under the influence of its perceptions, emotions and propensities. 100 Let us now inquire for the distinguishing phenomena of vegetable life. Vegetables devoid of sensation and voluntary motion, by these phenomena are distinguished from animals. By theiporganization, their growth from secretion and assimilation, their powerful resistanceof the operation of physical causes, while they continue in the living state, and by the various and peculiar phe¬ nomena, which are common to animals and vegetables, a conspicuous line of discrimination, is drawn between the vegetable and animal kingdoms. O © One question more still remains to be considered. What is the efficient cause of life? The living state of mind or body is universally viewed as being.an effect, and must, therefore, be attributed to some cause either real or imaginary. It will tend to facilitate and render more conspicuous our views of this subject, to mark well the distinction that has been made and which evidently exists in nature, between life itself and all its variegated phenomena. Without keep¬ ing in view this distinction, our ideas must necessarily be indistinct and confused. This being premised, I am ready to state and to defend the following proposition. That the life of an> created being is an effect produced by the omnipotent will of the Creator. In the production of this and similar effects, he is pleased to employ his almighty energy agreeably to certain prescribed laws; and with a view to the free agency and general happiness of rational creatures, to bring into operation a variety of secondary causes. These laws are not agents, yet their existence is neces¬ sary to render the free agency of finite intelligences a real blessing, instead of the greatest misfortune; and these secondary causes, although they have an agency, yet their efficiency is dependent on the operation of the first and only efficient cause. It is, therefore, truly said, that in God "We live, move and have our being." At no period since the formation of the material world has one particle of matter been endued with animations or put in 101 motion without the positive agency of mind. If we as¬ sert that inactivity is an essential property of matter, and that any body has an inherent property of moving itself or communicating motion to other bodies, inde° pendent of the agency of mind, the assertion will con¬ tain an irreconcilable contradiction. If, then, we admit what never can be disproved, that inactivity is essential, it will then follow that neither organization nor chymi- cal combinations, can impart life and motion to a dead body. It is in vain to object that material substances, devoid of organization and life, obedient to the laws of attraction and affinity, undoubtedly present the most ac¬ tive phenomena. These phenomena are certainly pro¬ duced agreeably to prescribed laws, the knowledge of which will enable us to predict with certainty future results; but these laws are not active properties of mat¬ ter, nor arc they agents by which the visible effects are produced. These effects depend on the operation of a cause exterior to matter. Were that cause withdrawn, second causes would cease to operate and subsequent action be suspended. Is life, then, "a forced state?" If, by this ambiguous expression, we mean only that life is an effect produced by an adequate cause, we an¬ swer in the affirmative. But if the intention is to assert that life is an effect produced by stimulants, and not a premordial state, we deny the truth of the assertion. What are these mighty stimulants, that a power not inferior to omnipotence should be ascribed to them? At the head of the long list of these life-giving substan¬ ces, stands the atmospheric air. This is denominated "the air of lives" and therefore "must needs" be the author of life. But in vain had the lungs of Adam, when newly formed, been inflated with this air, had not life been superadded by his Creator, to carry on the process of respiration. This and other stimulants co¬ operate with life and are essential to the' production of the various phenomena apparent in animated beings.- 102 but to believe that, a dead substance operating on a dead substance, can generate life itself, requires more cre¬ dulity than I am able to exercise. In a case of asphixia, or suspended animation, the judicious application of air, and other stimulants concur- ing in their operation with the remaining life, may pro¬ duce the phenomena, and evidences of life, which could not be produced by all their united energies of life it¬ self were extinguished. The phenomena of life are, therefore, produced by the united energies of pre-existing life and appropriate exciting powers: but life itself is the effect of a different cause. With a view to establish an opposite doctrine, a few passages from the Old and New Testaments, have been quoted by one who confessedly shines in the medical firmament, like a star of the first magnitude. " And the Lord God for med man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life (as the air of lives) and man became a living soul." From this it is inferred "that the air, by exciting respiration, gave the first impulse of the life to the mind, and body of Adam." But the language of the text is evidently figurative, and it is not necessary that figurative language should be literally true, or true if misunderstood in a literal sense. Air being essential to the phenomena of animal life, it is proper, therefore, to employ the terms, air and breath, figuratively to express that divine agency on which the existence and preservation of life depended. The same author remarks on another passage, that "the dry bones seen by Ezekiel, in a vision, when brought together, were devoid of life until the winds were in¬ voked to inflate their lungs with air. Immediately af¬ terwards they became living and intelligent beings." But in vain had the phophet expected the reanimation of the dry bones if only the breath of the four winds had been the real object of his invocation. Is it necessary that figurative.language, taken literally be true ?. It is spoken in figurative, "Thus saith the Lord God unto 1.03 these, bodies, behold I will cause breath to enter into you and ye shall live." But when the figure is dropped and the meaning1 expressed literally it is said, "And shall put my Spirit in you, and ye shall live." Believing it to be unnecessary, I forbear to offer any remarks on the sin¬ gular interpretation which has been given to other pas¬ sages. ■ The strange hypothesis is "That mind itself and its various operations are the production of material stimu¬ li, subversive of the regular order ofvNature, equally re¬ pugnant to divine revelation and common sense, and resting, only on the reasoning basis of bold conjectures:, it cannot merit a serious refutation. Questions on'the-Essay. What is Life? What is its opposite? Is life essen¬ tial to the existence of.spirit? How many kinds of life are there? What are they? How manyyki'nds has man? Do all exhibit the same phenomena of life? From what are our ideas of life originally derived? How? What is a source of error on this subject? Why is life not.a being-nor a quality of a being? What is another source of error? How will you define life? What are the evidences of life? May living matter be in different states? Examples. Is life prior to its phe¬ nomena? What will produce the phenomena of fife? Will stimulants produce them if life be wanting? What is a dictate of common sense on this subject? How does this appear? What is the second inquiry? What is necessary to a solution of this question? Examples of the two first are found where? Man is composed of what? Are mind and matter combined in man? What evidence of this? Are the properties of mind and of body essentially different ? What are properties of each? The distinguishing phenomena of mental life are what?—of animal life are what? What distinguish animal and vegetable life from one another? What other phe¬ nomena distinguish vegetables? v. What other question is to be considered? I,s the liv^ lOi Ing state an effect of an adequate cau.se? It. there a real distinction between life and its phenomena? What proposition is stated? Agreeably to what does the Creator exert his energy? Are "these laws agents, or what are they? Has matter ever been endued with an¬ imation, or put in motion without the energy of the mind? Will organization give life? Will chvmieal combinations impart life to dead bodies? Are chymi- cal affinities prime agents or only secondary causes of their effects? What is another inquiry? Is life a forced state? Is it ihe effect of an adequate cause? Are stimulants an adequate Cause? Will atfnospherio air give life to a dead body? Will stimulants, co-onerating with vitality, produce the phenomena of fife? What is a strange hy¬ pothesis of sbme materialists? This hypothesis is sub¬ versive of \vt*at?-—repugnant^ to what? It rests on what? ERRATA, On page 22 Kne II, read impereouf for dangerous. " 69 " 34, " andtfie be&re prevalence, and of for on. On page 88 line 20, read after agreeable or disagreeable to that rule. On page 9*1 line 34, read infinitely for in^nite- RECOMMENDATIONS. I have examined "Lectures on Human Nature," by Rev. Samuel Doak, D. D., with th'e Es,say on Life at¬ tached, and believe it to be a'"$vork well suited to the different schools oflearning, and convenient for the pur¬ poses of instruction: indeed, in the course of my studies while at Washington College, those Lectures (in manu¬ script) Were put into my han4s by the Rev. Samuel DoaL, and I then entertained the opinion that they were well adapted to the proper training of the mind, and a useful-Jbranch of science. I still entertain the same opin¬ ion. JOHN BLAIR, I fully confeur in the above statement of the Hon, John Blair, DANIELKENNEY.