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ELEMENTS
MENTAL PHILOSOPHY,
OF
*
INTELLECT AND THE SENSIBILITIES.
1
EMBRACING THE TWO DEPARTMENTS OF THE
BY THOMAS C. UPHAM,
Professor of Moral and Mental Philosophy in Bowdoin College.
IN TWO VOLUME S.
VOL. I.
NEW-YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, 82 CLIFF-STREET.
1845.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1840, by
THOMAS C. UPHAM,
in the Clerk's office of the District Court of Maine.

Bequest of four
4-14-66
RV.
PREFACE.
In preparing the following work, I trust I have felt, in
some degree, the responsibility which obviously ought to
attach to such an attempt. It has been my object, aided
by the views and researches which have characterized the
labours of various philosophical sects, to give a conden-
sed, but just and impartial, account of most of the lead-
ing principles of Mental Philosophy, so far as they ap-
pear to be ascertained and recognised at the present
time. The Work, accordingly, is essentially Eclectic in
its character; and, as such, can neither incur the dis-
credit, nor claim the honour, of belonging exclusively to
any of the great Philosophical Schools, although it does
not hesitate to acknowledge its indebtedness to all. In
connexion with a cordial application of the Eclectic prin-
ciple, which has laid open to me the truth wherever it
may be found, and under whatever name, I have felt it
important to adhere as closely as possible to the rules of
Inductive philosophizing, in opposition to that excess of
bold conjecture and unchastened speculation which has
too often perplexed and deformed mental inquiries. In
this way I have hoped, with Divine assistance, to pre-
pare a Work which, together with some important views
that might, perhaps, properly be considered original,
should select, arrange, and systematize the doctrines of
a multitude of writers; and which, while it might com-
mend itself with some degree of confidence to the philos-
opher, should, at the same time, be accordant, as sound
IV
PREFACE.
Philosophy ever will be, with the principles and interests
of correct morals and religion. The aspect of the times
evidently demanded that the attempt should be made by
somebody. There is no question that a Work of this
kind, especially in connexion with the mental training of
young persons, has for some time been greatly needed.
But whether I have succeeded in meeting the reasonable
expectations and wishes of the friends of literature, I
must leave to others to decide.
The reader will notice that the Work proceeds, af-
ter a brief discussion of the doctrine of Primary Truths,
and a few other preparatory views, upon the basis of a
threefold division of the mind, viz., the INTELLECT, the
SENSIBILITIES, and the WILL. This general division, which,
notwithstanding its obvious importance, has not general-
ly been made prominent in philosophical writers, and has
even been rejected by some, is strictly adhered to through-
out. From this general division other subordinate ar-
rangements and classifications, some of which are peculiar
to the present Work, naturally and easily flow. And thus
the reader will find the whole subject opening itself con-
nectedly and symmetrically, and in such a manner as to
present, in its completed outline, not merely a disjointed
congeries of philosophical facts, but the regularity and
beauty of a philosophical system. The general division
of the Sensibilities is into the Natural and Moral. Under
the head of the MORAL SENSIBILITIES, I have examined the
subject of conscience at some length and in various points
of view, and cannot but hope that some of the difficul-
ties which have hitherto attended it have been removed;
and that the whole subject is placed, to some extent, in a
consistent and satisfactory light. In many other respects,
particularly in the classification of the Emotions and the
Desires, and their relation to each other, and in some of
PREFACE.
V
the doctrines which are contained in the volume on the
Will, the reader will find some important views, which I
suppose he will not be likely to find in other philosophi-
Bowdoin College, May, 1840.
cal works.
It has already been intimated, that the method of inquiry
which is pursued is rather inductive than speculative. In
other words, I have endeavoured in every case, where the
nature of the inquiry admitted of it, to make well-ascer-
tained facts the basis of the conclusions which have been
adopted. Furthermore, in selecting such facts, it has
been an object to take those which not only had relation
to the matter under discussion, but which promised a de-
gree of interest to the reader, particularly to young minds.
Simplicity and uniformity of style have been aimed at, al-
though, in a few instances, the statements of other writers,
which conveyed important and well-ascertained views,
have been admitted with only slight variations when it
was thought they had been peculiarly happy in them.
As I can truly say my object in writing has not been the
honour and the rewards of authorship, to which I should
consider myself but poorly qualified to aspire, but rather
the good of my fellow-men, particularly those who are in
a course of education, I did not feel at liberty to prejudice
the general design by rejecting the facts, arguments, and,
in a few cases, even the expressions of others. I now
commend the Work to the acceptance of the public, in
the belief that, so far as it is worthy of their acceptance,
it will be sufficiently well received. And if it should
prove otherwise, I do not know that I shall have occa-
sion to regret the labour I have bestowed upon it.
THOMAS C. UPHAM.
A 2
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION.
CHAP. I.-PRIMARY TRUTHS.
Section
1. Importance of preliminary statements in Mental Philosophy
2. Nature of such preliminary statements
3. Of the name or designation given them
4. Primary truth of personal existence
19
5. Occasions of the origin of the idea or belief of personal existence 20
6. Primary truth of personal identity
7. Reasons for regarding this a preliminary truth
21
22
24
CHAP. II-IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND
•
14. On the meaning of the terms material and immaterial
15. Difference between mind and matter shown from language
16. Their different nature shown by their respective properties
17. The soul's immateriality indicated by the feeling of identity
18. The material doctrine makes a man a machine
•
•
19. No exact correspondence between the mental and bodily state
20. Evidence of this want of exact correspondence
21. Comparative state of the mind and body in dreaming
22. The great works of genius an evidence of immateriality
23. The doctrine of materiality inconsistent with future existence
8. There are original and authoritative grounds of belief
26
9. Primary truths having relation to the reasoning power
10. No beginning or change of existence without a cause
11. Occasions of the origin of the primary truth of effects and causes 26
12. Matter and mind have uniform and fixed laws
13. This primary truth not founded on reasoning
27
28
CHAP. III.-LAWS OF BELIEF.
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24. Of belief, its degrees and its sources
25. Of suggestion, consciousness, and the senses, as grounds of belief 41
26. Memory and testimony considered as sources of belief
27. Objection to reliance on testimony
28. Of relative suggestion as a ground of belief
29. Of reasoning as a ground or law of belief
25
30
31
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
39
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41
42
44
45
CHAP. IV.-GENERAL CLASSIFICATION.
47
30. The mind may be regarded in a threefold point of view
31. Evidence of the general arrangement from consciousness
48
32. Evidence of the same from the terms found in different languages 50
33 Evidence from incidental remarks in writers
34 Further proof from various writers on the mind
35 Classification of the intellectual states of the mind
50
53
55
46
viii
CONTENTS.
DIVISION FIRST.
THE INTELLECT OR UNDERSTANDING.
INTELLECTIVE OR INTELLECTUAL STATES OF THE MIND.
PART FIRST.
THE EXTERNAL, OR RECEPTIVE INTELLECT.
INTELLECTUAL STATES OF EXTERNAL ORIGIN.
CHAP. I.-ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN General.
Section
36. Connexion of the mind with the material world
37. Of the origin or beginnings of knowledge
38. Our first knowledge in general of a material or external origin
39. Further proof of the beginnings of knowledge from external causes
40. The same subject further illustrated
41. Subject illustrated from the case of James Mitchell
42. Illustration from the case of Caspar Hauser
•
43. Of connatural or innate knowledge
44. The doctrine of innate knowledge not susceptible of proof
45. The doctrine tried by the idea of a God
46. The discussion of this subject superseded and unnecessary
47. Further remarks on the rise of knowledge by means of the senses
•
53. Of the primary and secondary qualities of matter
54. Of the secondary qualities of matter
55. Of the nature of mental powers or faculties
CHAP. III.-THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE.
56. Nature and importance of the senses as a source of knowledge
57. Of the connexion of the brain with sensation and perception
58. Order in which the senses are to be considered
59. Of the sense and sensation of smell
·
CHAP. II.-SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
48. Sensation a simple mental state originating in the senses
49. All sensation is properly and truly in the mind
50. Sensations are not images or resemblances of objects
51. The connexion between the mental and physical change not sus-
ceptible of explanation
52. Of the meaning and nature of perception
60. Of perceptions of smell in distinction from sensations
61. Of the sense and sensation of taste
62. Design and uses of the senses of smell and taste
CHAP. IV. THE SENSE OF HEARING.
CHAP. V.-THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
69. Of the sense of touch and its sensations in general
70. Idea of externality suggested in connexion with the touch.
•
•
•
63. Organ of the sense of hearing
64. Nature of sonorous bodies and the medium of the communication
of sound
65. Varieties of the sensation of sound
66. Manner in which we learn the place of sounds
67. Application of these views to the art of ventriloquism
68. Uses of hearing, and its connexion with oral language
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60
62
. 78
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85
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92
93
94
96
97
98
CONTENTS,
ix
Section
71. Origin of the notion of extension, and of form and figure
72. On the sensations of heat and cold
73. On the sensation of hardness and softness
103
74. Of certain indefinite feelings sometimes ascribed to the touch
75 Relation between the sensation and what is outwardly signified 104
CHAP. VI.-THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
76. Of the organ of sight and the uses or benefits of that sense
77. Statement of the mode or process in visual perception
78. Of the original and acquired perceptions of sight.
79. The idea of extension not originally from sight
80. Of the knowledge of the figure of bodies by the sight
81. Measurements of magnitude by the eye
. 109
111
82. Of objects seen in the mist, and of the sun and moon in the horizon 112
83. Of the estimation of distances by sight
114
116
117
•
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84. Estimation of distance when unaided by intermediate objects
85. Of objects seen on the ocean, &c.
86. Supposed feelings of a being called into existence in the full pos-
session of his powers
. 118
·
stitution
97. Opinions of Locke on the testimony of the senses
CHAP. VII.-OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
•
87. By means of sensations we have a knowledge of outward things 122
88. Objection to a reliance on the senses
89. The senses circumscribed or limited rather than fallacious
90. Some alleged mistakes of the senses owing to want of care
91. Of mistakes in judging of the motion of objects
123
123
125
127
129
130
•
92. Of mistakes as to the distances and magnitude of objects
93. The senses liable to be diseased
CHAP. VIII.-HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
98. General view of the law of habit and of its applications
99. Of habit in relation to the smell
100. Of habit in relation to the taste
Page
99
. 100
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. 102
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101. Of habit in relation to the hearing
102. Of certain universal habits based on sounds
105
106
107
•
. 108
·
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CHAP. IX.-MUSCULAR HABITS.
111. Instances in proof of the existence of muscular habits
112. Muscular habits regarded by some writers as involuntary
113. Objections to the doctrine of involuntary muscular habits
CHAP. X.-CONCEPTIONS.
114. Meaning and characteristics of conceptions.
115. Of conceptions of objects of sight
116. Of the influence of habit on our conceptions
•
94. On the real existence of a material world
95. Doctrine of the non-existence of matter considered
96. The senses as much grounds of belief as other parts of our con-
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. 131
132
133
· 134
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103. Application of habit to the touch
•
104. Other striking instances of habits of touch
105. Habits considered in relation to the sight
·
106. Sensations may possess a relative as well as positive increase of
power
107. Of habits as modified by particular callings or arts
108. The law of habit considered in reference to the perception of the
outlines and forms of objects
109. Notice of some facts which favour the above doctrine
110. Additional illustrations of Mr. Stewart's doctrine
•
. 143
. 146
147
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135
137
138
140
142
•
149
150
151
152
152
154
155
156
158
159
161
X
CONTENTS.
r
Section
117. Influence of habit on conceptions of sight
118. Of the subserviency of our conceptions to description
119. Of conceptions attended with a momentary belief
120. Conceptions which are joined with perceptions
121. Conceptions as connected with fictitious representations
CHAP. XI.-SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS OF MENTAL States.
122. Origin of the distinction of simple and complex
123. Nature and characteristics of simple mental states
124. Simple mental states not susceptible of definition
125. Simple mental states representative of a reality
126. Origin of complex notions and their relation to simple
127. Supposed complexness without the antecedence of simple feelings 172
128. The precise sense in which complexness is to be understood
129. Illustrations of analysis as applied to the mind
170
171
173
•
. 174
130. Complex notions of external origin
175
176
ities
•
133. Imperfections of our complex notions of external objects
•
CHAP. XII.—ABSTRACTION.
134. Abstraction implied in the analysis of complex ideas
135. Instances of particular abstract ideas
•
136. Mental process in separating and abstracting them
137. Of generalizations of particular abstract mental states
138. Of the importance and uses of abstraction
•
•
CHAP. XIV.—of attention.
153. Of the general nature of attention
154. Of different degrees of attention
155. Dependance of memory on attention
156. Of exercising attention in reading
157. Alleged inability to command the attention
Page
161
•
. 162
. 163
165
167
131. Of objects contemplated as wholes
132. Something more in external objects than mere attributes or qual-
•
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CHAP. XV —DREAMING.
158. Definition of dreams and the prevalence of them
159. Connexion of dreams with our waking thoughts
160. Dreams are often caused by our sensations .
161. Explanation of the incoherency of dreams. (1st cause)
162. Second cause of the incoherency of dreams
163. Apparent reality of dreams. (1st cause)
164. Apparent reality of dreams. (2d cause)
165. Of our estimate of time in dreaming
168
. 169
169
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180
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. 181
182
183
184
•
CHAP. XIII.-GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
139. General abstract notions the same with genera and species
140. Process in classification, or the forming of genera and species
141. Early classifications sometimes incorrect
142. Illustration of our earliest classifications
143. Of the nature of general abstract ideas
186
187
188
190
144. Objection sometimes made to the existence of general notions
145. The power of general abstraction in connexion with numbers, &c. 191
146. Of general abstract truths or principles
192
•
. 192
147. Of the speculations of philosophers and others
148. Of different opinions formerly prevailing
149. Of the opinions of the Realists
193
194
195
150. Of the opinions of the Nominalists
151. Of the opinions of the Conceptualists
152. Further remarks of Brown on general abstractions
195
197
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178
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203
185
185
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199
200
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. 205
. 206
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. 208
. 209
210
211
CONTENTS.
xi
1
Section
166. Of the senses sinking to sleep in succession
167. General remarks on cases of somnaınbulism
168. Further illustrations of somnambulism
DIVISION FIRST.
THE INTELLECT OR UNDERSTANDING.
INTELLECTIVE OR INTELLECTUAL STATES OF THE MIND.
PART SECOND.
THE INTERNAL, OR SUGGESTIVE
SUGGESTIVE INTELLECT.
INTELLECTUAL STATES OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
CHAP. L-INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
Bection
169. The soul has fountains of knowledge within
170. Declaration of Locke, that the soul has knowledge in itself
171. Opinions of Cudworth on the subject of internal knowledge
172. Further remarks of the same writer on this subject
173. Writers who have objected to the doctrine of an internal source
of knowledge
174. Knowledge begins in the senses, but has internal accessions
175. Instances of notions which have an internal origin
176. Imperfections attendant on classifications in mental philosophy . 231
226
228
229
•
CHAP. II-ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
177. Import of suggestion, and its application in Reid and Stewart
178. Ideas of existence, mind, self-existence, and personal identity
179. Origin of the idea of externality
180. Idea of matter or material existence
181. Origin of the idea of motion
182. Of the nature of unity and the origin of that notion
183. Nature of succession, and origin of the idea of succession
184. Origin of the notion of duration
185. Of time and its measurements, and of eternity
186. Marks or characteristics of time
•
187. The idea of space not of external origin
188. The idea of space has its origin in suggestion
189. Characteristic marks of the notion of space
190. Of the origin of the idea of power
191. Origin of the idea of the first or primitive
192. Of the ideas of right and wrong
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193. Origin of the ideas of moral merit and demerit
194. Of other elements of knowledge developed in suggestion
195. Suggestion a source of principles as well as of ideas
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CHAP. IV.-RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
200. Of the susceptibility of perceiving or feeling relations.
201. Occasions on which feelings of relation may arise
202. Of the use of correlative terms
203. Of the great number of our ideas of relation
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222
. 223
224
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232
234
236
237
238
239
240
. 241
. 243
. 243
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213
. 214
216
245
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. 246
247
249
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. 250
251
252
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. 253
254
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221
CHAP. III.-CONSCIOUSNESS.
. 257
196. Consciousness the second source of internal knowledge; its nature 256
197. Further remarks on the proper objects of consciousness
198. Consciousness a ground or law of belief
199. Instances of knowledge developed in consciousness
258
259
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261
•
. 262
263
263
XII
CONTENTS,
Section
204. Of relations of identity and diversity
205. Of axioms in connexion with relations of identity and diversity
206. (II) Relations of degree, and names expressive of them
207. Relations of degree in adjectives of the positive form
208. (III.) Of relations of proportion
•
209. (IV.) Of relations of place or position
210. (V.) Of relations of time
211. (VI.) Of relations of possession
212. (VII.) Of relations of cause and effect
213. Of complex terms involving the relation of cause and effect
214. Remarks on instituted or conventional relations.
215. Connexion of relative suggestion or judgment with reasoning
CHAP. V.-ASSOCIATION (PRIMARY LAWS).
216. Reasons for considering this subject here
217. Meaning of association and illustrations
218. Of the general laws of association
219. Resemblance the first general law of association
220. Resemblance in every particular not necessary
221. Of resemblance in the effects produced
222. Contrast the second general or primary law
223. Contiguity the third general or primary law
224. Cause and effect the fourth primary law
CHAP. VI.-ASSOCIATION (SECONDARY LAWS).
225. Secondary laws and their connexion with the primary
226. Of the influence of lapse of time
•
227. Secondary law of repetition or habit
228. Of the secondary law of coexistent emotion
229. Original difference in the mental constitution
230. The foregoing law as applicable to the sensibilities
231. Of association caused by present objects of perception
232. Causes of increased vividness in these instances
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264
265
265
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. 268-
268
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. 273
. 273
274
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. 276
. 277
. 278
279
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. 280
. 281
282
284
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295
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. 296
. 297
CHAP. VII.-CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS.—(I.) INTELLECtual.
233. Association sometimes misleads our judgments
234. Casual association in respect to the place of sensation
235. Connexion of our ideas of extension and time
236. Of high and low notes in music
237. Connexion of the ideas of extension and colour
238. Tendency of the mind to pass from the sign to the thing signified 301
239. Whether there be heat in fire, &c.
240. Whether there be meaning in words
. 298
299
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302
302
. 304
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241. Benefit of examining such connexions of thought
242. Power of the will over mental associations.
243. Association controlled by indirect voluntary power
244. Further illustrations of indirect voluntary power
305
306
• 307
285
286
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. 287
. 288
289
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. 290
292
294
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CHAP. VIII.—MEMORY.
245. Remarks on the general nature of memory
246. Of memory as a ground or law of belief
247. Of differences in the strength of memory
248. Of circumstantial memory, or that species of memory which is
based on the relations of contiguity in time and place
249. I'lustrations of specific or circumstantial memory
250. Of philosophic memory, or that species of memory which is based
on other relations than those of contiguity.
251. Further illustrations of philosophic memory
252. Of that species of memory called intentional recollection
253. Instance illustrative of the preceding
309
. 310
311
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312
314
. 315
. 317
. 318
319
CONTENTS.
xiii
Section
254. Remarks on the memory of the aged
255. On the compatibility of strong memory and good judgment
256. Marks of a good memory
257. Directions or rules for the improvement of the memory
258. Further directions for the improvement of the memory
259. Of observance of the truth in connexion with memory
260. Of committing to writing as a means of aiding the memory
261. Of mnemonics or systems of artificial memory
•
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sitions
275. Of reasoning à priori
276. Of reasoning à posteriori
277. Of reasoning à fortiori
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278. Of differences in the power of reasoning
279. Of habits of reasoning
280. Of reasoning in connexion with language or expression
CHAP. XI.-DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
281. Of the subjects of demonstrative reasoning
282. Use of definitions and axioms in demonstrative reasoning
283. The opposites of demonstrative reasonings absurd
284. Demonstrations do not admit of different degrees of belief.
285. Of the use of diagrams in demonstrations
CHAP. IX.-DURATION OF MEMORY.
262. Restoration of thoughts and feelings supposed to be forgotten
263. Mental action quickened by influence on the physical system
264. Other instances of quickened mental action, and of a restoration
of thoughts.
265. Effect on the memory of a severe attack of fever
266. Approval and illustrations of these views from Coleridge
267. Application of the principles of this chapter to education
268. Connexion of this doctrine with the final judgment and a future
life
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CHAP. XII.-MORAL REASONING.
289. Of the subjects and importance of moral reasoning
290. Of the nature of moral certainty
291. Of reasoning from analogy
292. Caution to be used in reasoning from analogy
Page
320
322
324
. 325
. 327
329
329
330
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CHAP. X.-REASONING.
269. Reasoning a source of ideas and knowledge
270. Illustrations of the value of the reasoning power
271. Definition of reasoning, and of propositions
272. Process of the mind in all cases of reasoning
273. Grounds of the selection of propositions
274. Reasoning implies the existence of antecedent or assumed propo-
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CHAP. XIII.-PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
-1
297. Rules relating to the practice of reasoning
298. Of being influenced in reasoning by a love of the truth
VOL. I.-B
331
. 333
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296. Of signs in general as connected with reasoning
287. Of the influence of demonstrative reasoning on the mental char-
acter
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356
357
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. 358
. 359
. 360
361
362
288. Further considerations on the influence of demonstrative reasoning 363
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334
334
335
337
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293. Of reasoning by induction
294. Of the caution necessary in inductive processes
295. Of instances or experiments in inductive reasoning termed instan-
tiæ crucis
296. Of combined or accumulated arguments
339
340
341
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344
345
347
348
350
351
351
353
354
. 365
. 366
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. 368
. 369
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. 372
373
373
xiv
CONTENTS.
Section
Page
374
299. Care to be used in correctly stating the subject of discussion
300. Consider the kind of evidence applicable to the subject
301. Reject the aid of false arguments or sophisms
. 375
376
302. Fallacia equivocationis, or the use of equivocai terins and phrases 378
303. On the sophism of estimating actions and character from the cir-
cumstances of success merely
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304. Of adherence to our opinions
305 Effects on the mind of debating for victory instead of truth
308. Process of the mind in the creations of the imagination
309. Further remarks on the same subject
•
CHAP. XIV. —IMAGINATION.
306. Imagination an intellectual process, closely related to reasoning 383
307. Definition of the power of imagination
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384
. 385
: 386
. 387
. 387
288
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. 389
. 390
. 391
. 392
394
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310. Illustration from the writings of Dr. Reid
311. Grounds of the preference of one conception to another
312. Illustration of the subject from Milton
313. The creations of the imagination not entirely voluntary
314. Illustration of the statements of the preceding section
315. On the utility of the faculty of the imagination
316. Works of imagination give different degrees of pleasure
317. Importance of the imagination in connexion with reasoning
318. Of misconceptions by means of the imagination
319. Explanation of the above misrepresentations of the imagination 397
320. Feelings of sympathy aided by the imagination
396
. 398
CHAP. XV.—COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
321. Of complex ideas of external origin
322. Nature of complex ideas of internal origin
323. Of complex notions formed by the repetition of the same thing
324. Of the help afforded by names in the combination of numbers
325. Instances of complex notions made up of different simple ideas
326. Not the same internal complex ideas in all languages
327. Origin of the complex notion of a Supreme Being
DIVISION FIRST.
•
THE INTELLECT OR UNDERSTANDING.
INTELLECTIVE OR INTELLECTUAL STATES OF THE MIND,
332. Shown also from the effects of stimulating drugs and gases
333. Influence on the body of excited imagination and passion
334. This doctrine of use in explaining mental phenomena
•
CHAP. II.—EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
335 Of excited conceptions and of apparitions in general
336. Of the less permanent excited conceptions of sight
337. Of the less permanent excited conceptions of sound
•
•
379
. 380
381
•
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•
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•
•
•
PART THIRD.
IMPERFECT AND DISORDERED INTELLECTUAL ACTION.
CHAP. I.-CONNEXION OF THE MIND AND BODY.
Section
328. Disordered intellectual action connected with the body
329. The mind constituted on the principle of a connexion with the body 412
330. Illustration of the subject from the effects of old age
331. The connexion of the bodily system with the mental shown from
the effects resulting from diseases
413
•
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•
399
400
•
400
401
402
404
406
. 414
•
. 415
. 416
. 417
•
Page
411
418
419
421
CONTENTS.
XV
Section
338. First cause of permanently vivid conceptions or apparitions.
Morbid sensibility of the retina of the eye
339. Second cause of permanently excited conceptions or apparitions.
Neglect of periodical blood-letting
340. Methods of relief adopted in this case
•
•
•
•
341. Third cause of excited conceptions. Attacks of fever
342. Fourth cause of apparitions and other excited conceptions. In-
flammation of the brain
•
CHAP. III.-PARTIAL INSANITY.
345. Meaning of the term and kinds of insanity
346. Of disordered or alienated sensations
347. Of disordered or alienated external perception
348. Disordered state or insanity of original suggestion
349. Unsoundness or insanity of consciousness
350. Insanity of the judgment or relative suggestion
351. Disordered or alienated association. Light-headedness
352. Illustrations of this mental disorder
353. Of partial insanity or alienation of the memory
354. Of the power of reasoning in the partially insane
355. Instance of the above form of disordered reasoning
356. Of readiness of reasoning in the partially insane
357. Partial mental alienation by means of the imagination
358. Insanity or alienation of the power of belief
CHAP. IV. TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
359. Idea of total insanity or delirium
360. Of perception in cases of total or delirious insanity
361. Of association in delirious insanity
362. Illustration of the above section
428
343. Facts having relation to the fourth cause of excited conceptions 429
344. Fifth cause of apparitions. Hysteria
430
363. Of the memory in connexion with delirious insanity
364. Of the power of reasoning in total or delirious insanity
365. Of the form of insanity called furor or madness
366. Of the causes of the different kinds of insanity
367. Of moral accountability in mental alienation
368. Of the imputation of insanity to individuals
369. Of the treatment of the insane
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432
433
434
435
436
437
437
438
440
441
442
443
444
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Pago
422
424
426
427
446
447
447
448
449
450
451
451
452
453
454
INTRODUCTION.
CHAPTER I.
PRIMARY TRUTHS.
§ 1. Importance of preliminary statements in Mental Philosophy.
It is often highly important, in the investigation of a
department of science, to state, at the commencement of
such investigation, what things are to be considered as
preliminary and taken for granted, and what are not.
If this precaution had always been observed, which,
where there is any room for mistake or misapprehension,
seems so reasonable, many useless disputes would have
been avoided, and the paths to knowledge, too often un-
necessarily perplexed and prolonged, would have been
rendered more direct and easy.

It is impossible to proceed with inquiries in the science
of MENTAL PHILOSOPHY, as it will be found to be in almost
every other, without a proper understanding of those fun-
damental truths which are necessarily involved in what
follows. And it will, accordingly, be the object of this
chapter to endeavour to ascertain some of them.
§ 2. Nature of such preliminary statements.
Those preliminary principles which may be found ne-
cessary to be admitted as the antecedents and conditions
of all subsequent inquiries, will be called, for the sake of
distinction and convenience, PRIMARY TRUTHS.—But what
are these? Or how do we know them?
According to the view of this subject taken by Buf-
fier, who has expressly written upon it, and whose views
are approved and adopted by Mr. Stewart, they are such,
and such only, as can neither be proved nor refuted by
other propositions of greater perspicuity. And this seems
B 2
18
INTRODUCTION.
to be not only a succinct, but a satisfactory account of
them, since, if there were other propositions into which
they could be resolved, and by means of which they
could be made clearer, then they could no longer be re-
garded as Primary, but those other clearer propositions
would have that character.
But it may be asked again, Are there any propositions
of this kind? Are there any so clear, that the great in-
strument of human reasoning cannot render them more
perspicuous? Can there not be a complete action of the
human mind in all its parts without the laying down of
any antecedent truths whatever, as auxiliaries in its efforts.
after knowledge ?—The answer to such questions, how-
ever formidable they may at first appear, is by no means
difficult. In the first place, every man, who investigates
at all, often experiences doubts in his inquiries. He
accordingly endeavours to render such doubtful views
clearer by argument. He goes on from step to step,
from one proposition to another; but, unless he at last
finds some truth utterly too clear to be rendered more so
by reasoning, he must evidently proceed, adding deduc-
tion to deduction without end. His resting-place, accord-
ingly, is in those truths which are elementary, and which
illuminate the understanding by their own light, and not
by a light let in from any other source. Again, the na-
ture of reasoning itself leads us to the same view. A
process of reasoning is essentially the successive percep-
tion of relations; but there can be no feeling or percep-
tion of relation where there is but one object of contem-
plation. Something, therefore, must, from the nature of
the case, be assumed as the antecedent, the basis, or ne-
cessary condition of every such process.
§ 3. Of the name or designation given them.
We propose to call those propositions, which are so
elementary as to be susceptible neither of proof nor of
refutation from other propositions of greater clearness,
PRIMARY TRUTHS. Such propositions are termed, in the
first place, TRUTHS, since they are forced upon us, as it
were, by our very constitution. They exist as surely as
the mind exists, where they have their birthplace; they
PRIMARY TRUTHS.
19
as certainly and as strongly control the convictions of
men, as the demonstrations of geometry; and not of one
man merely, or any particular set of men, but of all man-
kind; for the few who pretend to reject them in specula-
tion, constantly retract and deny such rejection of them
in their practice. And yet they are not the deductions
of reasoning, but rather the natural and unfailing con-
comitants of human nature.-With sufficient reason, also,
are the propositions in question called PRIMARY; because,
as would seem to follow from the very definition of them,
they are the propositions into which all reasoning ulti-
mately resolves itself, and are necessarily involved and
implied in the various investigations of which the mind
is capable, whether they relate to the great subject before
us or to others. As has been intimated, there cannot
possibly be a process of reasoning, without some first
principle or admitted truth from which to start.
-
§ 4. Primary truth of personal existence.
The PRIMARY TRUTH which we are naturally led to con-
sider first, is that of the reality of our personal existence.
The proposition that we exist is a sort of corner-stone to
everything else; the foundation of our knowledge; the
place and basis from which the edifice must rise.-With-
out undertaking to prove this fundamental truth, we nev-
ertheless fully recognise and admit it. In other words, it
is a proposition antecedent to reasoning, but which, not-
withstanding, fully and perfectly secures our belief. If
we reason on the subject of personal existence, there is
necessarily implied an I, a personal self, by whom the
process of reasoning is conducted, and which renders all
such reasoning nugatory. If we doubt concerning our
personal existence, there is the same implication, since
there can be no doubting unless there is some one ta
doubt. And, of course, there can be no one to doubt
where there is no personal existence. That we exist,
therefore, is a truth of nature, and not of argumentation.
Nothing which comes within the reach of the human
mind is more clearly defined to its perception, more thor-
oughly controlling and operative, and more raised above
cavils and skepticism, whether rational or irrational, than
this.
20
INTRODUCTION.
§ 5. Occasions of the origin of the idea or belief of personal existence.
It remains, however, a distinct subject of inquiry, Un-
der what circumstances this elementary belief arises ?—
And, in answer to this inquiry, we may say with abundant
confidence, if it be not the earliest, it is at least among
the earliest notions which the mind is capable of forming.
A kind Providence has not conceded to a conviction, so
essential to our whole mental history, a dilatory and late
appearance. But that same Providence has given a
place as well as a time, an occasion as well as a period
of its formation; and although it may be impossible for
us ever to ascertain that occasion with certainty, we may
at least conjecture.
We look, therefore, in our meditations on this topic, at
man in the commencement of his existence. We see him
suddenly called forth from a state where there was nei-
ther form, nor knowledge, nor power, endowed with such
capabilities of thought and action, both internal and ex-
ternal, as his Creator saw fit to give. Thus brought into
being, and thus fitted up for his destined sphere, we will
suppose that some external object is for the first time
presented to the senses. The result of this is, that there
is an impression made on the senses; and then at once
there is a change in the mind, a new thought, a new feel-
ing. Although, as already suggested, there is room for
different conjectures here, there is much reason to believe
that this is the true occasion of the origin of the belief
in question. The first internal experience, the earliest
thought or feeling, is immediately followed by the notion
of personal or self-existence, as the subject of this new
thought or feeling. And this idea or conviction of per-
sonal existence, which arises at this very early period, is
continually suggested and confirmed in the course of the
successive duties, enjoyments, and sufferings of life.
Such has commonly been supposed to be the origin of
the belief in question. We may as well suppose it to
come into being in connexion with the first act of the
mind, as with any subsequent act, although with less
distinctness and strength than afterward. But whether
this account of the origin of the conviction of our per-
sonal existence be the true one or not, we may still hold
PRIMARY TRUTHS.
21
to the fact of the belief itself as something beyond doubt.
We may also regard it as necessarily resulting from our
mental constitution, and as wholly inseparable from our
being.
§ 6. Primary truth of personal identity.
The second of those preliminary truths which we term
primary is the proposition of our Personal Identity.—If
the consideration of our personal existence naturally
comes first in the order of time, that of the truth now be-
fore us is not secondary in point of importance. We can-
not dispense with either without unsettling the grounds of
inquiry and belief, and barring the access to all knowl-
edge whatever.
IDENTITY is synonymous with sameness, and is the
name of a simple state of mind. Although, therefore,
its meaning is as clear as that of other simple ideas, and
everybody is supposed to understand it, it is not suscep-
tible of definition. The term is applied to various ob-
jects, and, among others, to men.-The word PERSONAL
implies Self, and personal identity is, therefore, the iden-
tity of ourselves. But the term self is complex, embra-
cing both mind and matter, and hence we are led to con-
sider the distinct notions of mental and bodily identity.
I. MENTAL IDENTITY.-By this phrase we express the
continuance and oneness of the thinking principle mere-
ly. The soul of man is truly a unit. It is not, like mat-
ter, separable into parts. It may bring, from time to
time, new susceptibilities into action; but its essence is
unchangeable. That which constitutes it a thinking and
sentient principle, in distinction from that which is un-
thinking and insentient, never deserts it, never ceases to
exist, never becomes other than what it originally was.
II. BODILY IDENTITY.-By these expressions we mean
the sameness of the bodily shape and organization.
This is the only meaning we can attach to them, since
the materials which compose our bodily systems are con-
stantly changing. The body is not a unit in the same
sense the soul is. It was a saying of Seneca, that no
man bathes twice in the same river; and still we call it
the same, although the water within its banks is constant-
22
INTRODUCTION.
ly passing away. And in like manner we ascribe iden-
tity to the human body, although it is subject to constant
changes; meaning by the expressions, as just remarked,
merely the sameness of shape and organization.
III. PERSONAL IDENTITY. This form of expression is
more general than either of those which have been men-
tioned. It has reference to both mind and matter, as we
find them combined together in that complex existence
which we term man or person. It is equivalent to what
is conveyed by the two phrases of mental identity and
bodily identity. But it is evident we cannot easily sep-
arate the two when speaking of men. And according-
ly, when it is said that any one is conscious of, knows,
or has a certainty of his personal identity, it is meant to
be asserted that he is conscious of having formerly pos-
sessed the powers of an organized, animated, and ration-
al being, and that he still possesses those powers. He
knows that he is a human being now, and that he was a
human being yesterday, or last week, or last year.-
There is no mystery in this. It is so plain, no one is like-
ly to misunderstand it, although we admit our inability
to give a definition of identity.
M
§ 7. Reasons for regarding this a primary truth.
If personal identity be a primary truth, it is antecedent
to argument, and is independent of it.-What grounds
are there, then, for regarding it as such?
In the FIRST place, the mere fact that it is constantly
implied in those conclusions which we form in respect
to the future from the past, and universally in our daily
actions, is of itself a decisive reason for reckoning it
among the original and essential intimations of the hu-
man intellect. On any other hypothesis we are quite
unable to account for that practical recognition of it in
the pursuits of men, which is at once so early, so evident,
and so universal.
The farmer, for instance, who looks abroad on his cul-
tivated fields, knows that he is the same person who,
twenty years before, entered the forest with an axe on
his shoulder, and felled the first tree. The aged soldier,
who recounts at his fireside the battles of his youth, nev-
PRIMARY TRUTHS.
23
er once doubts that he was himself the witness of those
sanguinary scenes which he delights to relate. It is alto-
gether useless to attempt either to disprove or to confirm
to them a proposition which they believe and know, not
from the testimony of others or from reasoning, but from
the interior and authoritative suggestion of their very na-
ture; and which, it is sufficiently evident, can never be
eradicated from their belief and knowledge until that
nature is changed.
A SECOND circumstance in favour of regarding the no-
tion of personal identity as an admitted or primary truth,
is, that men cannot prove it by argument if they would ;
and, if they do not take it for granted, must for ever be
without it. The propriety of this remark will appear
on examination.-There evidently can be no argument,
properly so called, unless there is a succession of distinct
propositions. From such a succession of propositions, no
conclusion can be drawn by any one, unless he is willing
to trust to the evidence of memory. But memory in-
volves a notion of the time past; and whoever admits
that he has the power of memory, in however small a
degree, virtually admits that he has existed the same at
some former period as at present.
The considerations which we have now particularly in
view, and which are greatly worthy of attention in con-
nexion with the principle under examination, may, with
a little variation of terms, be stated thus.
Remembrance, without the admission of our personal
identity, is clearly an impossibility. But there can be no
process of reasoning without memory. This is evident,
because arguments are made up of propositions which
are successive to each other, not only in order, but in
point of time. It follows, then, that there can be no
argument whatever, or on any subject, without the ad-
mission of our identity, as a point from which to start.
What, then, will it avail to attempt to reason either for or
against the views which are here maintained, since, in
every argument which is employed, there is necessarily
an admission of the very thing which is the subject of
inquiry?
24
INTRODUCTION.
§ 8. There are original and authoritative grounds of belief.
Supposing men actually to exist, and to be conscious
of the continuance and sameness of their existence, we
are next to enter into the interior of their constitution,
and to inquire after such elements of intelligence and ac-
tion as are to be found there. The next proposition,
therefore, which is to be laid down as fundamental and
as preliminary to all reasoning is, that there are in men
CERTAIN ORIGINAL AND AUTHORITATIVE GROUNDS OF BELIEF.
Nothing is better known than that there is a certain
state of the mind which is expressed by the term BELIEF.
As we find all men acting in reference to it, it is not ne-
cessary to enter into any verbal explanation. Nor would
it be possible by such explanation to increase the clear-
ness of that notion which every one is already supposed
to entertain. Of this belief, we take it for granted, and
hold it to be in the strictest sense true, that there are ori-
ginal and authoritative grounds or sources; meaning by
the term original that these grounds or sources are in-
volved in the nature of the mind itself, and meaning by
the term authoritative that this belief is not a mere mat-
ter of chance or choice, but naturally and necessarily re-
sults from our mental constitution, and is binding upon us.
Sometimes we can trace the state of the mind which
we term belief, to an affection of the senses, sometimes
to consciousness, sometimes to memory, and at others to
human testimony. In all these cases, however, the ex-
planation which we attempt to give of the origin of be-
lief, is limited to a statement of the circumstances in
which the belief arises. But the fact that belief arises
under these circumstances, is ultimate, is a primary law;
and, being such, it no more admits of explanation than
does the mere feeling itself.
Many writers have clearly seen and defended the ne-
cessity of the assumption which has now been made.
Mr. Stewart, among others, has expressed the opinion
(HIST. DISSER., pt. i., § ii.), that there is involved, in ev-
ery appeal to the intellectual powers in proof of their
own credibility, the sophism of reasoning in a circle or
PETITIO PRINCIPII; and expressly adds, that, unless this
credibility be assumed as unquestionable, the further ex-
PRIMARY TRUTHS.
25
ercise of human reasoning is altogether nugatory -Not
less decisive is the language of Sir James Mackintosh on
this subject (Ethical Philosophy, sect. vi.): «Universal
skepticism involves a contradiction in terms. It is a be-
lief that there can be no belief. It is an attempt of the
mind to act without its structure, and by other laws than
those to which its nature has subjected its operations. To
reason without assenting to the principles on which rea-
soning is founded, is not unlike an effort to feel without
nerves or to move without muscles. No man can be al-
lowed to be an opponent in reasoning who does not set out
with admitting all the principles, without the admission of
which it is impossible to reason. It is, indeed, a puerile,
nay, in the eye of wisdom, a childish play, to attempt
either to establish or to confute principles by argument,
which every step of that argument must presuppose.
The only difference between the two cases is, that he
who tries to prove them can do so only by first taking
them for granted; and that he who attempts to impugn
them falls at the very first step into a contradiction from
which he never can rise."
§ 9. Primary truths having relation to the reasoning power.
Man may be sure of the fact of his existence and of
its permanency; he may be possessed of grounds of be-
lief to a certain extent, such as have been mentioned ;
and still we may suppose him incapable of reasoning.
His knowledge would be greatly limited, it is true, with-
out that noble faculty, but he would know something;
his consciousness would teach him his own existence;
his senses convey to him intimations of external origin;
the testimony of others furnish various facts that had
come within their observation. But, happily, man is not
limited to the scanty knowledge which would come in
by these sources alone; he can compare and combine, as
well as perceive and experience; and, by means of the
propositions thus combined and compared together, is
enabled to deduce conclusions.
But there is this worthy of notice, that the reasoning
power, although it exists in man, and is a source of be-
lief and a foundation of knowledge, is necessarily built
VOL. I.-C
26
INTRODUCTION.
upon principles which are either known or assumed.-
This is seen in the most common and ordinary cases of
the exercise of this susceptibility. And it will be found
also on examination, that one assumption may be resolv-
ed into another, and again into another, until we arrive
at certain ultimate truths which are at the foundation of
all reasoning whatever. It is important, therefore, to in-
quire, what general assumptions, having particular refer-
ence to the reasoning power, and absolutely essential to
its action, are to be made. And these will be found to
be two in number; one having special relation to the
past, and the other to the future.
§ 10. No beginning or change of existence without a cause.
The one which has a relation to the past, and is the
foundation of all reasonings, having a reference to any
period antecedent to the present moment, may be stated
as follows that there is no beginning or change of exist-
ence without a cause.-This principle, like others which
have been mentioned, we may well suppose to be univer-
sally admitted. When any new event takes place, men
at once inquire the cause; as if it could not possibly have
happened without some effective or preparative antece-
dent.
And such being the general and unwavering reception
of the principle before us, it would seem to follow clearly
that there are grounds for it in the human constitution.
A reliance on any principle whatever, so firm and gener-
al as is here exhibited, is not likely to be accidental.
And when we inquire what these grounds are, we shall
not fail to come to the conclusion, that the proposition in
question is supported by an original intimation or feeling
which is utterly inseparable from our mental nature, and
which is made known to us by consciousness alone.
Although the feeling of belief, which is implied in the
proposition that there is no beginning or change of ex-
istence without a cause, is an original one, directly result-
ing from our nature, still it is in our power to give some
account of the circumstances in which it arises.
C
§ 11. .casions of the origin of the primary truth of effects and causes.
The mind embraces the elementary truth which we are
PRIMARY TRUTHS.
27
considering at a very early period. Looking round upon
nature, which we are led to do more or less from the com-
mencement of our being, we find everything in motion.
Things which had no existence are raised into life; and
new forms are imparted to what existed before. The
human mind, which is essentially active and curious, con-
stantly contemplates the various phenomena which come
under its notice; observing not only the events and ap-
pearances themselves, but their order in point of time,
their succession. And it is led in this way to form the
belief (not by deduction, but from its own active nature),
that every new existence and every change of existence
are preceded by something, without which they could
not have happened.
Undoubtedly the belief, as in many other cases, is com-
paratively weak at first, but it rapidly acquires unalter-
able growth and strength; so much so that the mind ap-
plies it without hesitation to every act, to every event,
and to every finite being. And thus a foundation is laid
for numberless conclusions, having a relation to whatever
has happened in time past. It is true that the verbal
proposition, by which our belief in this case is expressed,
is not always, nor even generally, brought forward and
stated in our reasonings on the past, but it is always im-
plied.
This primary truth is an exceedingly important one.
By its aid the human mind retains a control over the
ages that are gone, and subordinates them to its own
purposes. It is susceptible, in particular, of a moral and
religious application. Let this great principle be given
us, and we are able to track the succession of sequences
upward, advancing from one step to another, until we find
all things meeting together in one self-existent and un-
changeable head and fountain of being. But there it
stops. The principle will not apply to God, since He dif-
fers from everything else which is the object of thought,
in being an existence equally without change and without
beginning.
§ 12. Matter and mind have uniform and fixed laws.
It is necessary to assume also, particularly in connex-
28
INTRODUCTION.
ion with the reasoning power, that matter and mind have
uniform and permanent laws.
This assumption, as well as the preceding, is accord-
ant with the common belief of mankind. All men be-
lieve that the setting sun will rise again at the appointed
hour, that the decaying plants of autumn will revive in
spring, that the tides of ocean will continue to heave as
in times past, and the streams and rivers to flow in their
courses. If they doubted, they would not live and act as
they are now seen to do.
This belief in the uniformity and permanency of the
laws of nature does not arise at once; but has its birth
at first in some particular instance, then in others, till it
becomes of universal application. In the first instance,
the feeling in question, which we express in various ways
by the terms anticipation, faith, expectation, belief, and
the like, is weak and vacillating; but it gradually ac-
quires strength and distinctness. And yet this feeling, so
important in its applications, is the pure work of nature;
it is not taught men, in the strict sense of that term, but
is produced within them; the necessary and infallible pro-
duct and growth of our mental being; a sort of inalien-
able gift of the Almighty to every man, woman, and
child; arising in the soul with as much certainty and as
little mystery as the notions, expressed by the words
power, duration, right, wrong, truth, or other elementary
states of the mind. It is true, it is an expectation or be-
lief, directed to à particular object, and, therefore, is not
easily susceptible of being expressed by a single term, as
in the case of the ideas just referred to; but the circum-
stance of its being expressed by a circumlocution does
not render the feeling itself less distinct or real than oth-
ers.—As, therefore, the strong faith, which men entertain
in the continuance of the laws of creation, is the natural
and decisive offspring of that mental constitution which
God has given us, there is good ground for assuming the
truth of that to which this faith relates, and to regard it
as a principle in future inquiries, that matter and mind
are governed by uniform laws.
§ 13. This primary truth not founded on reasoning.
But perhaps it is objected, that we can arrive at the
PRIMARY TRUTHS.
29
great truth under consideration without assuming it as
something ultimate, as something resulting from our con-
stitution; and that nothing more is wanting in order to
arrive at it than a train of reasoning.-The sun, it is
said, rose to day, therefore he will rise to-morrow: Food
nourished me to-day, therefore it will do the same to-
morrow: The fire burned me once, therefore it will again.
But it demands no uncommon sagacity to perceive
that something is here wanting, and that a link in the
chain of thought must be supplied in order to make it
cohere. The mere naked fact that the sun rose to-day,
without anything else being connected with it, affords not
the least ground for the inference that it will rise again;
and the same may be said of all similar instances. Now
the link which is wanting in order to bind together the
beginning and the end in such arguments as have been
referred to, is the precise assumption which has been
made, and which is held to be as reasonable as it is ne-
cessary, because it is founded on an acknowledged, uni-
versal, and elementary feeling of our nature. And we
may here affirm with perfect confidence, that, without
making this assumption, the power of reasoning cannot
deduce a single general inference, cannot arrive at so
much as one general conclusion, either in matter or mind,
which has relation to the future.
But the moment we make the assumption, a vast foun-
dation of knowledge is laid. Grant us this (to which we
are fully entitled by virtue of that elementary belief which
the Author of our being has uniformly called forth in the
human mind in his appointed way), that nature is uni-
form in her laws; then give us the fact that food nour-
ished us to-day, or that the sun rose to-day, or any other
fact of the kind, and it follows, with readiness and cer-
tainty, that what has once been will be again.-So that
we must regard the principle of the permanency and uni-
formity of the laws of nature as something antecedent to
reasoning, and not subsequent to it; a principle author-
ized and sustained by an ultimate, and not by any sec-
ondary action of the mind.
C 2
}
30
INTRODUCTION.
CHAPTER II.
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND.
§ 14. On the meaning of the terms material and immaterial.
ANOTHER of those topics which may be deemed intro-
ductory and auxiliary to the main subject, is the question
of the materiality or immateriality of the soul. In en-
tering upon this inquiry, which is obviously too important
to be altogether dispensed with, it will be necessary, in
the first place, to explain the meaning of the leading
terms.-The words MATERIAL and IMMATERIAL are relative,
being founded on the observation of the presence or of
the absence of certain qualities.-Why do we call a piece
of wood, or of iron, material? It is because we notice
in them certain qualities, such as extension, divisibility,
impenetrability, and colour. And, in whatever other
bodies we observe the presence of these qualities, we
there apply the term. The term IMMATERIAL, therefore,
by the established use of the language and its own na-
ture, it being in its etymology the opposite of the other,
can be applied only in those cases where these qualities
are not found.
Hence we assert the mind to be immaterial, because,
in all our knowledge of it, we have noticed an utter ab-
sence (or, perhaps, more properly, have always failed to
detect the presence) of those qualities which are acknowl-
edged to be the ground of the application of the opposite
epithet. The soul undoubtedly has its qualities or prop-
erties, but not those which have been spoken of. What-
ever we have been conscious of, and have observed within
us, our thought, our feeling, remembrance, and passion,
are evidently and utterly diverse from what is understood
to be included under the term materiality.
Such is the origin of these two terms, and the ground
of the distinction between them. And, thus explained,
they can hardly fail to be understood. We may, there-
fore, now proceed to state the evidence of the actual ex-
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND.
31
istence of that distinction between mind and matter which
is obviously implied in every application of them. In
other words, we are to attempt to show that the soul is
not matter, and that thought and feeling are not the re-
sult of material organization.
15. Difference between mind and matter shown from language.
Is it a fact that the being or existence called the SOUL
is distinct and different from that existence which we call
MATTER ?—It is not unusual, in writings on the philosophy
of the mind, to refer to the structure of languages in or-
der to illustrate our mental nature; and, in respect to the
question now before us, we are warranted in saying, in
the first place, that Language, in general, is one proof
of such distinction. In the preceding section we have
seen the use of certain terms in our own language, and
the grounds of it. All other languages, as well as our
own, have names and epithets distinctly expressive of the
two existences in question. This circumstance, when we
consider that the dialects of men are only their thoughts
and feelings imbodied, as it were, may be regarded as a
decisive proof that the great body of mankind believe in
both, and, of course, believe in a well-founded distinction
between them.
That such is the belief of men generally, as clearly
evinced by the structure of languages and in various
other ways, will not, probably, be denied. It is a matter
too evident to permit us to anticipate a denial. When,
therefore, we take into view that there are grounds of be-
lief fixed deeply and originally in our constitution, and
that, in their general operation, they must be expected to
lead to truth and not to error, we are unable to harbour
the supposition, that men are deceived and led astray in
this opinion; that they so generally and almost univer-
sally believe in the existence of what, in point of fact,
does not exist.
§ 16. Their different nature shown by their respective properties.
Again, the distinction between mind and matter is
shown by the difference in the qualities and properties
which men agree in ascribing to them respectively. The
32
INTRODUCTION.
properties of matter are extension, hardness, figure, so-
lidity, divisibility, and the like. The attributes of mind
are thought, feeling, volition, reasoning, the passions.
The phenomena exhibited by matter and mind are not
only different in their own nature, but are addressed, con-
sidered as objects of perception, to different parts of our
constitution. We obtain a knowledge of material prop-
erties, so far as it is direct and immediate, by means of
the senses; but all our direct knowledge of the nature of
the mental phenomena is acquired by consciousness.
Every one knows that the phenomena in question are
not identical. There is no sameness or similitude, for in-
stance, in what we express by the terms hardness and
desire, solidity and hatred, divisibility and belief, exten-
sion and imagination. But let us look more at particu-
lars. All matter is divisible. The smallest particle has
its top and bottom, its right and left side, and may be re-
garded as susceptible of measurement. But what does
consciousness testify in regard to the mental phenomena?
Does it gives us the least intimation that they are me-
chanically divisible? Is any man ever conscious of a
half, quarter, or third of a hope, joy, or sorrow, actually
cut asunder and set off from the remaining half, two
thirds, or three quarters of such hope, joy, or sorrow?
It is not only true that no one has had such experience,
but no one ever conceives such experience possible.
And as to extension, are we ever conscious of a thought,
feeling, or volition as having length and breadth; as be-
ing, for instance, an inch in length and a half an inch in
breadth? There is nothing of the kind. Conscious-
ness never gave, and it is not too much to say that it
never will give, any such information. The properties or
attributes of matter and mind, therefore, are entirely differ-
ent. And as all persons hold it to be unphilosophical to
ascribe attributes so different to the same subject, we con-
clude the subjects of them are not the same.
And ac-
cordingly, we call the subject of one class of phenomena
Mind, and that of the other Matter.
§ 17. The soul's immateriality indicated by the feeling of identity.
There is another somewhat striking consideration
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND.
33
which may aid in evincing the immateriality of the soul.
It is well known that the materials of which the human
body is composed are constantly changing. The whole
bodily system repeatedly undergoes, in the course of the
ordinary term of man's life, a complete renovation; and
yet we possess, during the whole of this period, and amid
these utter changes of the bodily part, a consciousness of
the permanency as well as of the unity of the mind.
"This fact," remarks Mr. Stewart, " is surely not a little
favourable to the supposition of mind being a principle
essentially distinct from matter, and capable of existing
when its connexion with the body is dissolved.”
Truly, if the soul, like the body, were made up of par-
ticles of matter, and the particles were in this case, as in
the other, always changing, we should be continually ro-
ving, as an old writer expresses it, and sliding away from
ourselves, and should soon forget what we once were.
The new soul, that entered into the same place, would not
necessarily enter into the possession of the feelings, con-
sciousness, and knowledge of that which had gone. And
hence we rightly infer, from an identity in these respects,
the identity or continued existence of the subject to which
such feelings, consciousness, and knowledge belong.
And as there is not a like identity or continued existence
of the material part, we may infer, again, that the soul is
distinct from matter.
18. The material doctrine makes man a machine.
The doctrine that thought is the result of material or-
ganization, and that the soul is not distinct from the body,
is liable, also, to this no small objection: that it makes the
soul truly and literally a machine. If what we term mind
be in truth matter, it is, of course, under the same influ-
ences as matter. But matter, in all its movements and
combinations, is known to be subject to a strict and inflex-
ible direction, the origin of which direction is exterior to
itself. The material universe is truly an automaton, ex-
periencing through all time the same series of motions, in
obedience to some high and authoritative intelligence;
and is so entirely subject to fixed laws, that we can ex-
press in mathematical formulas not only the state of large
34
INTRODUCTION.
bodies, but of a drop of water or of a ray of light; es-
timating minutely extension and quantity, force, velocity,
and resistance.
-
It is not thus with the human mind. That the mind
has its laws is true; but it knows what those laws are;
whereas matter does not. This makes a great difference.
Matter yields a blind and unconscious obedience; but the
mind is able to exercise a foresight; to place itself in
new situations; to subject itself to new influences; to sur-
round itself with new motives, and thus control, in a
measure, its own laws. In a word, mind is free; we have
the best evidence of it, that of our own consciousness.
But matter, as we learn from all our observations of it,
may justly be characterized as a slave. It does not turn
to the right or left; it does not do this or that, as it
chooses; it possesses no self-determining and self-moving
element; but, the subject of an overpowering allotment,
it is borne onward to the appointed mark by an inflexible
destiny. If these views be correct, we see here a new
reason for not confounding and identifying these two ex-
istences.
19. No exact correspondence between the mental and bodily state.
The train of thought in the last section naturally leads
us to remark further, that there is an absence of that pre-
cise correspondence between the mental and bodily state.
which would evidently follow from the admission of ma-
terialism. Those who make thought and feeling the re-
sult of material organization, commonly locate that or-
ganization in the brain. It is there the great mental
exercises, in the phraseology of materialists, are secreted,
or are developed, or are brought out in some other myste-
rious way, by means of a purely physical combination and
action. Hence, such is the fixed and unalterable nature.
of matter and its results, if the brain be destroyed, the
soul must be destroyed also; if the brain be injured, the
soul is proportionally injured; if the material action be
disturbed, there must be an exactly corresponding dis-
turbance of the mental action. The state of the mind,
on a fair interpretation of this doctrine, is not less de-
pendant on that of the body than the complicated motions
IMMATERIALITY OF THE MIND.
35
of the planetary system are on the law of gravitation.
But this view, whether we assign the residence of the
soul to the brain or to any other part of the bodily sys-
tem, does not appear to be accordant with fact. It is
not only far from being approved and borne out, but it
is directly contradicted by well-attested experience in a
multitude of cases.
§ 20. Evidence of this want of exact correspondence.
We are desirous not to be misapprehended here. We
readily grant that the mind, in our present state of ex-
istence, has a connexion with the physical system, and
particularly with the brain. It is, moreover, obviously a
natural consequence of this, that, when the body is in-
jured, the mental power and action are in some degree
affected; and this we find to be agreeable to the facts
that come within our observation. But it is to be
par-
ticularly noticed, that the results are just such as might
be expected from a mere connexion of being; and are
evidently not such as might be anticipated from an iden-
tity of being.
In the latter case, the material part could never be af-
fected, whether for good or evil, without a result precisely
corresponding in the mind. But, in point of fact, this is
not the case. The body is not unfrequently injured when
the mind is not so; and, on the other hand, the soul some-
times appears to be almost entirely prostrated when the
body is in a sound and active state. How many persons
have been mutilated in battle, in every possible way short
of an utter destruction of animal life, and yet have dis-
covered at such times a more than common greatness of
mental power! How often, when the body is not only
partially weakened, but is resolving, at the hour of death,
into its original elements, and possesses not a single capa-
bility entire, the mind, remaining in undiminished strength,
puts forth the energy and beauty of past days!
We are now speaking of injuries to our corporeal part,
and of bodily debility in general; but if we look to the
brain in particular, which is more intimately connected
with the mental action than any other part of the bodily
system, we shall find ourselves fully warranted in an ex-
2
36
INTRODUCTION.
tension of these views there. According to the system
of the materialists, the soul does not merely exist and act
in connexion with the body, but is identical with it.
And not only this, they go further, and locate this iden-
tity in the brain, making the soul and the brain not mere-
ly connected together, but identically the same thing.
But the objection to their views, which, in its general
form, has already been made, exists here in full strength.
If that organization, which they hold to result in thought
and feeling, be identical with the brain, it must be diffu-
sed through the whole of that organ, or limited to some
particular part. But it appears, from an extensive collec-
tion of well-authenticated facts, that every part of the
brain has been injured, and almost every part absolutely
removed, but without permanently affecting the mental
powers, which is absolutely impossible if there be an
identity of the two things. Every part of that struc-
ture, says Dr. Ferriar, in a learned Memoir, “has been
deeply injured or totally destroyed, without impeding or
changing any part of the process of thought."
He re-
marks again, after bringing forward a considerable num-
ber of well-authenticated facts, as follows: "On reviewing
the whole of this evidence, I am disposed to conclude,
that, as no part of the brain appears essentially necessary
to the existence of the intellectual faculties, and as the
whole of its visible structure has been materially changed
without affecting the exercise of those faculties, something
more than the discernible organization must be requisite
to produce the phenomena of thinking."*
""
""
CC
•
§ 21. Comparative state of the mind and body in dreaming.
The views of the two preceding sections receive some
confirmation from the comparative state of the mind and
body in dreaming. In sound sleep, the senses sink into a
state of utter and unconscious sluggishness; the inlet to
everything external, as far as we can judge, is shut up;
the muscles become powerless, and everything in the body
has the appearance of death. It is true, the soul appears,
for the most part, to be fallen into a like state of imbe-
cility; but this is not the case in its dreams, which are
* Memoirs of the Manchester Philos. Society, vol. iv.
IMMATERIALITY OF THE SOUL.
37
known to take up no small portion of the hours of sleep.
At such times it does not appear to stand in need of the
same repose with the body; otherwise it would seek and
possess it. On the contrary, when the powers of the
body are utterly suspended, the soul is often exceedingly
on the alert; it rapidly passes from subject to subject,
attended sometimes with sad and sometimes with raised
and joyful affections.
But this is not all: often, in the hours of sleep, the in-
tellect exhibits an increased invention, a quickened and
more exalted energy in all its powers. Many writers
have remarked, that the conclusions of abstruse investi-
gations have been suggested to them at such times. Not
a few would conclude themselves persons of genius if
they could pronounce the arguments and the harangues
in the awakened soberness of the morning which they
had framed in the visions of the night. Does not this
state of things seem to indicate that there is a natural
and fundamental distinction between the mental and the
material part of man?
§ 22. The great works of genius an evidence of immateriality
Now let us look at what mind, in man's awakened mo-
ments, is able to accomplish, and see if the results of its
action, in its higher and nobler exercises, are such as we
commonly expect from or ascribe to matter.-Look first
at the kindred powers of memory and imagination. I am
at this moment sitting in my chair, with a book and pa-
per before me, and a pen in my hand. But my memory
is aroused, my imagination takes wing, and my soul sud-
denly finds itself (at least considered in reference to its
operations) in a far-distant place. I see distinctly before
me the trees which shaded me, and the hills where I wan-
dered in my childhood. The same waters flow before
me, the same bright sun shines in the heavens; I see
around me a multitude of familiar faces, and embrace,
with all the vividness of early affections, my old compan-
ions. In this excursion of the soul, how many recollec-
tions have been revived! How many feelings have been
restored! What pictures of natural and social beauty have
been presented to the intellectual sight! But do we com-
VOL. I.-D
*****___*__
38
INTRODUCTION.
monly, or can we, with any show of reason, ascribe this
wonderful power, which transfers us in a moment to the
distant and the past, to a mere mass of matter? I think
not.
Look, again, at the powers of judgment and reasoning,
and of imagination in its greater and more permanent ef-
forts. In doing this, we are to keep in mind that those
things which cannot be known directly and in their own
essence, are known for the most part simply by their re-
sults. And in accordance with this view, which leads us
to look from results to causes, I ask myself, What was it
that originated and perfected the demonstrations of Eu-
clid? Where was the authorship of the political institu-
tions of Solon and Lycurgus, of modern England and
France, and of that still greater effort of political wisdom,
the American Constitution? What was it that infused
the breath of immortality into the Iliad and Odyssey?
What was it that gave birth to the wonderful inventions
and combinations of the Jerusalem Delivered, the Fairy
Queen, and the Paradise Lost? Where shall we look for
the origin of the Philippics of the Ancients, or, in later
times, of the speeches of Fox and of the orations of Bos-
suet?
In these, and in all other cases where human genius has
achieved its higher triumphs, we submit it to any one to
say, whether mankind generally would be likely to as-
cribe their origin to a mere lump of matter? When men
cast their eyes upon a piece of matter, they look simply
for material herbage and flower, leaves and fruit; for
something which is addressed, and addressed exclusively,
to the taste and touch, the sight and smell; and not for
political xioms and mathematical demonstrations, for
flights of fancy and flashes of eloquence. We venture to
assert, that the man who gives himself up to the influence
of the vast conceptions imbodied in the works and insti-
tutions of human genius, will find it as difficult to attribute
them to a purely material cause, as it is to adopt the theo-
ry of the atheist, and ascribe the beautiful and complica-
ted machinery of the universe to a fortuitous concurrence
of atoms.
IMMATERIALITY OF THE SOUL.
39
§ 23. The doctrine of materiality inconsistent with future existence.
With the subject of the immaterial nature of the soul,
that of its immortality is closely connected. It is true, the
immortal existence of the soul does not follow with abso-
lute certainty from the mere fact of its immateriality; but
it is, at least, rendered in some degree probable. Cer-
tainly we have no direct evidence of the discontinuance
of the soul's existence at death as we have of that of the
body. What takes place at death is only a removal of
the soul's action from our notice, but not, as far as we
know, a cessation and utter extinction of it.
The suppo-
sition, therefore, is a reasonable one, that the soul will
continue to exist, merely because it exists at present, inas-
much as its immaterial nature does not require the suspen-
sion of its existence at death, and as we have no direct
evidence of such an event.-Death, in the language of
Mr. Stewart, only lifts up the veil which conceals from
our eyes the invisible world. It annihilates the material
universe to our senses, and prepares our minds for some
new and unknown state of being.
But the opposite doctrine, that which asserts the mate-
riality of the soul, so far from furnishing a presumption in
favour of our future existence, seems to render immortality
impossible. Those who hold that thought and feeling
are in some way the direct and positive result of material
organization, are understood to admit that the soul (or,
rather, what they speak of as the soul) dies with the
body; and certainly they would be very inconsistent with
themselves if they did not do so. Where, then, is that im-
mortality, of which the light of nature as well as Revelation
assures us?-We are aware of what the materialist will
say here. We understand him to assert that a new soul
will be created after death, either at the final resurrection
or at some antecedent period, which will take the place
in all respects of the old one which perished with the
body. But there is an insuperable difficulty here. It is
inconceivable (we assert it with entire confidence) that a
soul, created subsequently in time, should be conscious of,
or, rather, should recognise, mental operations and affec-
tions as its own, which operations and affections pertain-
ed, in point of fact, to another soul. Such a case would
40
INTRODUCTION.
constitute an origination rather than a continuance of ex-
istence; it would not be our immortality, but that of an-
other; the chain connecting the present with the future
would be broken; and we, who are destined, on the sys-
tem of materialism, to perish with the body, could not by
any possibility participate in that future existence which
is raised up to take the place of the present. Would there
be any propriety or justice in bringing such new-created
soul before the judgment-seat of the Supreme Being in
reference to crimes or to virtues which in fact pertained
to another soul! It is evident, since such a soul could
not be conscious of or recognise a previous existence,
simply because such existence had never taken place, it
would not be a suitable subject of praise and blame, re-
ward and punishment, in reference to deeds done in the
present life. So that it seems to be an inevitable conclu-
sion, that the souls which are destined to come under the
Divine adjudication must remain permanent, whatever
may become of the body, until the final sentence shall be
passed upon them. But if the soul is material and dies
with the body, then it is not permanent, and cannot be
SO. The immateriality of the soul, therefore, on the sup-
position of the body's being dissolved and destroyed at
death, becomes the basis of its immortality. If the doc-
trine of immateriality falls, then that of immortality and
of a future retribution falls with it.-All arguments, there-
fore, which go to sustain the soul's immortality and its
liability to future judgment, indirectly support the doc-
trine of its immateriality. We add nothing further, ex-
cepting the single remark, that the distinction between
the body and soul is either implied or asserted in various
passages of the Scriptures; as, for instance, when we are
directed "not to fear them which kill the body, but are
not able to kill the soul."
LAWS OF BELIEF.
41
CHAPTER III.
LAWS OF BELIEF.
§ 24. Of belief, its degrees, and its sources.
MAN is so constituted that, under certain circumstances,
he naturally and necessarily believes, and has knowledge.
As that state of mind which we terin BELIEF is simple, and,
consequently, undefinable, we have therefore a knowledge
of it, not by verbal definition, but wholly by our own in-
ternal reflection or consciousness. Belief is always the
same in kind or nature; but it admits of different degrees.
We ascertain the existence of these differences of strength,
which we express by various terms, such as presumption,
probability, high probability, and certainty, by means of
that same internal consciousness which assures us of the
existence of the mere feeling itself.
In the chapter on Primary Truths, we had occasion to
assert it as an indisputable principle, that there are in men
certain original and authoritative grounds of belief. This
is an important doctrine in mental philosophy, and one
which is always to be kept in mind. It is perhaps prop-
er, before we proceed further, to state some of those ori-
ginal principles by which our belief is thus naturally con-
trolled.
§ 25. Of suggestion, consciousness, and the senses, as grounds of belief.
The most marked and prominent of those grounds or
laws of belief, which are understood to be original and
ultimate in the mental constitution, are Original Sugges-
tion, Consciousness, the Senses, Memory, Testimony, Rel-
ative Suggestion, and Reasoning.
I.-ORIGINAL SUGGESTION. By means of this we have
a knowledge of certain elementary notions, such as the
abstract conceptions of existence, mind, self-existence or
self, personal identity, succession, duration, space, unity,
number, power, right, wrong, and some others. All men
possess these notions, all understand them; but if they
:
D 2
42
INTRODUCTION.
are asked in what way they come to a knowledge of
them, they can only say that, in virtue of the constitution
of the mind itself, they are naturally and necessarily sug-
gested. The mind is so constituted, that they naturally
and necessarily flow forth from it, and thus furnish the
foundations of belief and knowledge.
K
II.-CONSCIOUSNESS. By means of that internal reflec-
tion which is denominated consciousness, we have a knowl-
edge of our mental states, of the various perceptions, af-
fections, and decisions of the mind. In regard to all
such objects of knowledge, we are obliged to rest, ulti-
mately, upon consciousness. The belief from this source
is in the highest degree authoritative and decisive. It is
impossible for us to disbelieve that the mind experiences
certain sensations, or puts forth certain operations, when-
ever, in point of fact, that is the case; or to believe them
to be otherwise than they in fact are.
III. THE SENSES. The states of mind to which oper-
ations upon or affections of our senses give rise, are also,
by our very constitution, the occasions or grounds of be-
lief. By means of the senses, we have a knowledge, in
particular, of the external, material world; of trees, and
fields, and waters; of the sounds of the elements and the
music of birds; of the sun, and moon, and stars, and all
the various and beautiful forms of the tangible and visi-
ble creation. Men, prompted by the suggestions of their
own mental nature, universally rely upon the senses in
respect to everything which comes within their appropri-
ate sphere. When one man states to another a report of
what has happened at some time, the hearer yields to him
a greater or less degree of credence, according to the
circumstances. But if the narrator asserts that he saw
or heard it with his own eyes or ears, that the affair ac-
tually came under the cognizance of his own senses, every-
body deems such a statement satisfactory. What better
evidence, they say, than that of his senses!
§ 26. Memory and Testimony considered as sources of belief.
IV. Another original ground or law of belief is the
Memory. So far as we are confident, or, rather, have no
particular reason to doubt, that the original sensations and
LAWS OF BELIEF.
43
perceptions in any given case are correctly reported in
the remembrance, the latter controls our belief and actions
not less than those antecedent states of mind on which it
is founded. "The evidence of memory," says Dr. Beat-
tie, "commands our belief as effectually as the evidence
of sense. I cannot possibly doubt, with regard to any
of my transactions of yesterday which I now remember,
whether I performed them or not. That I dined to-day,
and was in bed last night, is as certain to me as that I at
present see the colour of this paper. If we had no mem-
ory, knowledge and experience would be impossible; and
if we had any tendency to distrust our memory, knowl-
edge and experience would be of as little use in directing
our conduct and sentiments as our dreams now are.
Sometimes we doubt whether, in a particular case, we
exert memory or imagination; and our belief is suspend-
ed accordingly: but no sooner do we become conscious
that we remember, than conviction instantly takes place;
we say, I am certain it was so, for I now remember I was
an eye-witness."*
There remains, however, another inquiry: What is the
origin of this confident reliance? And the reply here is,
as in many other cases, It is our nature, our mental con-
stitution; the will and ordinance of the Being who crea-
ted us. Whatever may
be said on the subject, there must
be, and there are, certain original grounds, certain funda-
mental laws of belief, which, in every analysis of our
knowledge, are fixed and permanent boundaries, beyond
which we cannot proceed. And reliance on memory is
one of them.
V.—HUMAN TESTIMONY. By this is commonly meant
the report of men concerning what has fallen under their
personal observation. And this forms another ground of
belief. As to the fact that men readily receive the testi-
mony of their fellow-beings, and that such testimony in-
fluences their belief and conduct, it cannot be denied.
They thus universally yield credence to the statements of
each other, unless something comes to their knowledge
unfavourable to the credibility of the narrator, because it
* Beattie's Essay on Truth, pt. i., ch. ii., § 4.
44
INTRODUCTION.
is natural or constitutional to do so. In other words, the
very nature of our mental constitution, independently of
the suggestions of reason and experience, leads us to be-
lieve what men assert. We are so constituted, that the
very first sound of the human voice which reaches us
calls into action a disposition on our part to admit the
truth of whatever intelligence it conveys. In support of
this view (which, it may be remarked, has in its favour
the weighty names of Reid and Campbell among others),
reference may properly be made to what we observe in
children. In the earliest period of life, as soon as the
first gleams of intelligence are visible, they look with hope
and fondness to those who support them; there seems to
be no doubt, no suspicion, no want of confidence. This
strong reliance discovers itself from time to time, as they
advance towards youth; and, in the whole of the early
part of our existence, is so distinct, strong, and operative,
that men have given to it a specific name, in order to dis-
tinguish it from the more chastened credence of riper
years. We speak of the caution and the convictions of
manhood, and of the simplicity and CREDULITY of children.
§ 27. Objection to reliance on testimony.
It may be objected to the doctrine of reliance on hu-
man testimony, that we are liable to be led into mistakes
by the statements of our fellow-men. This objection
merits some attention; and the answer to it may be sum-
med up in two particulars.-FIRST. The proportion of
cases of deception, compared with those where we are
not deceived, is very small. We admit that we may be
disappointed and deceived sometimes, but not often, in
comparison with the whole number of cases where we
place reliance. Men are naturally disposed to speak the
truth; it is much easier than to speak what is not true,
for truth is at hand; but the practice of prevarication and
misstatement requires labour and invention - besides
jarring violently upon every honourable sentiment within
So capable is this view of being sustained, that even
those men who have brought upon themselves the infamy
of being considered liars, probably utter the truth a hun-
us.
2
LAWS OF BELIEF.
45
dred times where they utter a falsehood once. -SECOND.
Admitting that we are liable to be led astray by means
of testimony, still it is in our power, and is our duty, to
take suitable precautions against this liability.-We are
by no means required to place implicit confidence in it,
without a regard to the circumstances under which it is
given, and the character and opportunities of the person
who gives it. Every one knows that there are in him-
self tendencies and principles which, in certain circum-
stances, may be brought in conflict with the more enno-
bling principle of truth; and that he is liable to error,
even when he supposes himself to be seeking the truth,
from the mere want of labour and care.
And we may
make use of this experience in judging of the testimony
of others, since we may reasonably suspect in them the
existence of similar tendencies and similar want of cir-
cumspection. It is therefore consistent with any suitable
degree of reliance on testimony to satisfy ourselves wheth-
er the person who testifies possessed ample means of in-
formation; whether he made use of those means; and
whether, in giving testimony, he may not be under the
influence of interest or passion.
§ 28. Of relative suggestion as a ground of belief.
VI.—Another ground or law of belief, of such a na-
ture as to be entitled to a distinct consideration, is RELA-
TIVE SUGGESTION. By this phrase is expressed the power
or susceptibility, by means of which we perceive the re-
lations of objects. What RELATIONS themselves are, it is
unnecessary to attempt to define; no mere form of words
can render the conception of them clearer to any person's
comprehension than it is already supposed to be. All
that needs be asserted is the mere fact, that, when the
mind contemplates two or more objects, we naturally put
forth other perceptions or feelings; we cannot avoid do-
ing it. For instance, we feel or perceive such objects to
be the same or different, like or unlike, equal or unequal,
cause or effect, whole or part, attribute or subject, &c.
These new feelings, as well as the direct perceptions
of the objects to which they relate, are occasions of be-
lief. We not only believe the existence of the feelings
46
INTRODUCTION.
themselves, but find ourselves unable to resist and exclude
the belief of the actual existence and truth of that to
which they correspond, viz., relations. The relations of
things, it is true, are not objects directly addressed to the
external senses; and as we cannot directly see them,
nor hear them, nor feel them, they seem comparatively
obscure. And yet we are so constituted, that the cogni-
zance of them is utterly inseparable from a knowledge
of those objects in respect to which they exist. If they
are not perceivable by the outward senses, they are nev-
ertheless perceivable by the mind, and are undoubtedly,
in some important sense, real subjects of contemplation
and knowledge. Accordingly, RELATIVE SUGGESTION, the
name of the susceptibility by means of which we become
acquainted with relations, is properly regarded a LAW OF
BELIEF.
§ 29. Of reasoning as a ground or law of belief.
VII.-All REASONING, both Moral and Demonstrative,
and in whatever form it exists, is also an original founda-
tion of belief. Relative suggestion and reasoning are
closely connected together; since every train of reason-
ing implies and involves a series of felt or perceived rela-
tions. Perceptions of relation may be regarded as the
links which bind together such separate perceptions, facts,
or truths, as come within the range of the subject reason-
ed upon; and without which they would inevitably re-
main in their original state of insulated and unavailable
propositions. Truth is added to truth, feeling arises suc-
cessive to feeling, until we arrive at the conclusion which
invariably fixes our belief.
When, however, we assert, that the conclusions dedu-
ced from a process of reasoning invariably influence our
belief, we should particularly keep in mind here that be-
lief may exist in very various degrees. When the suc-
cessive feelings which we have in a train of reasoning are
all intuitive, and the propositions with which we commen-
ced were certain, or were assumed as such, belief is, of
course, of the highest kind. And this is always the case
in demonstrations; for there we always begin with either
known or assumed truths, and as the propositions compa-
GENERAL CLASSIFICATION.
47
red together are entirely abstract, there seems to be no
room for doubt or mistake. But in moral reasoning, al-
though the mental process is the same, the conclusion is
not necessarily true; the propositions contemplated are in
general of a different character from what we find in de-
monstrative reasoning; and the conclusion will vary from
mere presumption to absolute certainty, according to the
nature of the facts laid before the mind.
fy
But is it a fact, that Reasoning necessarily controls our
convictions in any case? What evidence is there that
our belief, in a greater or less degree, is naturally depend-
ant on its conclusions ?-If we can suppose such a ques-
tion to be seriously put, a prompt and satisfactory answer
is to be found in the general and in individual experience.
No man has it in his power to refuse obedience to the de-
cisions of reasoning; nor does he ever do it, except from
an inability to embrace at once, and to balance the suc-
cessive steps of the process. So far as he fully under-
stands the elementary parts which enter into a just train
of reasoning, and can estimate the relative bearing of one
part on another, just so far his belief is naturally and ne-
cessarily affected.
CHAPTER IV.
GENERAL CLASSIFICATION.
§ 30. The mind may be regarded in a threefold point of view.
Ir is undoubtedly true, that the human soul is to be re-
garded as constituting a nature which is one and indivisi-
ble; but still there is abundant reason for asserting that
its nature can never be fully understood by contemplating
it solely and exclusively under one aspect. There are,
accordingly, three prominent and well-defined points of
view in which the mind may be contemplated, viz., the
Intellect, the Sensibilities, and the Will; otherwise ex-
pressed by the phrases INTELLECTUAL, SENSITIVE or SEN-
TIENT, and VOLUNTARY states of the mind. Whatever truly
48
INTRODUCTION.
and appropriately belongs to the intellect, has something
peculiar and characteristic of it which shuts it out from
the domain of the sensibilities; and whatever has the na-
ture of a volition, has a position apart both from the intel-
lectual and the sentient. This is a fundamental arrange-
ment, which, when properly and fully carried out and
applied, includes the whole soul. To the one or the other
of these general heads, everything involved in our men-
tal existence may be referred. In fully exhausting, there-
fore, these topics, we may justly count upon having com-
pleted the exploration of the mental constitution.
§ 31. Evidence of the general arrangement from consciousness.
The general arrangement which has been spoken of,
viz., into the INTELLECTUAL, SENTIENT, and VOLUNTARY states
of the mind, appears to be susceptible of abundant illus-
tration and proof. It is not our intention, however, to
enter into the discussion of its correctness at much length;
but merely to indicate, as briefly as possible, some of the
grounds on which it has been made; premising, at the
same time, that the whole of this work, while it is based
in a good degree on this fundamental division, will be
found to furnish incidental evidence throughout of its truth.
In proof of the propriety of the general arrangement in
question, we may refer, in the first place, to Conscious-
ness. In doing this we are, of course, obliged to presume
that the reader understands what is meant by the term
consciousness; and that he assents to the truth, so readily
and generally acknowledged, that we have much of our
knowledge of the mind by its aid. Mental philosophers
assure us that we are enabled, by means of consciousness,
to ascertain what thought and feeling are in themselves,
and to distinguish them from each other. And if we are
not willing to depend upon the information thus given us,
if we reject its authority in the hopes of finding something
more certain, we shall only be involved in greater diffi-
culty; in the language of Condillac on this very subject,
"we stray from a point which we apprehend so clearly
that it can never lead us into error. ""* But if it be true
that the existence and distinctive character of the mental
* Origin of Knowledge, pt. i., ch. i.
GENERAL CLASSIFICATION.
49
acts are made known, in a good degree at least, by con-
ciousness, and that we may justly and confidently rely on
its testimony, we naturally inquire, What does it teach in
the present case? And, in answering this question, we
may safely appeal to any person's recollections, and ask,
Whether he has ever been in danger of confounding a
mere perception, a mere thought, either with desires and
emotions on the one hand, or with volitions on the other?
Does not his consciousness assure him that the mental
states, which we thus distinguish by these different terms,
are not identical; that the one class is not the other; that
they as actually differ from each oth r as association does
from belief, or imagination from memory?-It may be
objected, however, that we find ourselves perplexed and
at a loss to explain, by any statement in words, the
cise difference in this case, whatever that difference may
actually be. We readily admit the fact implied in this
objection, but without admitting that it has any weight as
proof against the distinction in question. No simple no-
tion or feeling whatever is susceptible of a definition, of
an explanation by mere words alone. And it cannot be
expected of anything, whose own nature we cannot ex-
plain by words, that we can fully explain by a mere ver-
bal statement its difference from other things.
pre-
It would seem, therefore, that we may rest in this inqui-
ry upon men's consciousness; not of one merely, but of
any and all men. The understanding stands apart from
the rest. The will also has its separate and appropriate
position. We may, at least, assert with full confidence,
that no one is in danger of confounding volitions with in-
tellections; that is to say, with the mere notions of the
understanding. On this point there is certainly a general
agreement. And yet our consciousness, if we will but
attend to its intimations with proper care, will probably
teach us, that the nature of a volition more nearly ap-
proaches that of a purely intellectual act than it does the
distinctive nature of emotions and desires. It is undoubt-
edly true, that volitions may have aroused and excited
antecedents, and may thus be very closely connected with
the various affections; but in themselves they are cold
and unimpassioned; they are purely executive or manda-
VOL. I.-E
50
INTRODUCTION.
CER
WU
amf
tory, and are as obviously free from any actual imprègna-
tion of appetite, sentiment, or desire, as the most abstract
and callous exercises of the intellect.
32. Evidence of the same from terms found in different languages.
We are enabled further to throw some light on this
subject from a consideration of the terms which are found
in various languages. Every language is, in some im-
portant sense, a mirror of the mind. Something may be
learned of the tendency of the mental operations, not only
from the form or structure of language in general, but
even from the import of particular terms. There can be
no hesitation in saying that every language has its dis-
tinct terms, expressive of the threefold view of the mind
under consideration, and which are constantly used with
a distinct and appropriate meaning, and without being
interchanged with each other, as if they were synony-
mous. In other words, there are terms in all languages
(meaning those, of course, which are spoken by nations
somewhat advanced in mental culture) which correspond
to the English terms INTELLECT, SENSIBILITIES, WILL. If
such terms are generally found in languages differing
from each other in form and in meaning, it is certainly a
strong circumstance in proof that the distinction which
we propose to establish actually exists. On the
On the supposi-
tion of its having no existence, it seems impossible to ex-
plain the fact that men should so universally agree
in
making it. If, on the other hand, it does exist, it is rea-
sonable to suppose that it exists for some purpose; and,
existing for some purpose, it must, of course, become
known; and, being known, it is naturally expressed in
language, the same as any other object of knowledge.
And this is what we find to be the case. So that we
may consider the expression to be an evidence of the
fact; the sign, an intimation and evidence of the reality
of the thing signified.
§ 33. Evidence from incidental remarks in writers.
We now pass to other sources of evidence on this sub-
ject. No small amount of knowledge, bearing upon the
capabilities and the character of the human mind, may bẹ
різ
+2122/7
GENERAL CLASSIFICATION.
51
gathered from the incidental remarks of writers of care-
ful observation and good sense. And accordingly, if we
find remarks expressive of mental distinctions repeatedly
made by such men, when they are not formally and pro-
fessedly treating of the mind, it furnishes a strong pre-
sumption that such distinctions actually exist. Their tes-
timony is given under circumstances the most favourable
to an unbiased opinion; and ought to be received into
the vast amount of evidence, drawn from a great variety
of sources, which goes to illustrate the true nature of the
soul. The popular author of Literary Hours has given,
in one of his Works, an interesting biographical sketch
of Sir Richard Steele. After remarking upon the incon-
sistencies of his life, his excellent resolutions, and his fee-
ble performances, his successive seasons of riot and of re-
pentance, he refers the cause of these inconsistencies to
the feebleness of the will; and, in doing it, he incident-
ally, but very clearly, makes the distinction under con-
sideration. "His misfortune, the cause of all his errors,
was not to have clearly seen where his deficiencies lay;
they were neither of the head nor of the heart, but of the
volition. He possessed the wish, but not the power of
volition, to carry his purposes into execution."* As we
are not at liberty to suppose that so respectable a writer
employs words without meaning, he must be regarded as
intending to make the distinction which has been assert-
ed to exist.
In Dr. Currie's well-written Life of Burns, it is assert-
ed that the force of that remarkable poet lay in the pow-
ers of his understanding and the sensibilities of his heart
And the writer not only thus clearly indicates the distinc-
tion between the understanding or intellect and the heart,
but in another passage, which undoubtedly discloses the
key to the poet's character and conduct, he distinguishes
both of them from the voluntary powers. The passage
referred to is this: "He knew his own failings; he pre-
dicted their consequences; the melancholy foreboding
was not long absent from his mind; yet his passions car-
ried him down the stream of error, and swept him over
* Drake's Essays illustrative of the Tattler, Spectator, and Guardian,
vol. i., p. 50.
52
INTRODUCTION.
the precipice he saw directly in his course. The fatal de-
fect in his character lay in the comparative weakness of
his volition, which, governing the conduct according to
the dictates of the understanding, alone entitles it to be
denominated rational.”*
A recently-published Inquiry concerning the Indications
of Insanity, in which are various sketches of personal his-
tory and character that illustrate certain traits of the mind,
has the following statement: "Delinquents of this de-
scription are, perhaps, not unable to distinguish between
what is right and what is wrong; but their will is not
governed by their understanding, and they want the pow-
er of restraining themselves from that which, when com-
mitted, they are afraid to reflect upon. Their will re-
mains; but it springs from depraved sensations and emo-
tions, or from passions inordinate and unrestrained."+
A celebrated writer, in giving directions to his son as
to the manner of conducting negotiations with foreign
ministers, makes use of the following language: "If
you engage his heart, you have a fair chance for imposing
upon his understanding and determining his will." This
writer, as well as many others, employs the more common ·
term heart to express the sensibilities; and he evidently
uses language as if there were a known and admitted
distinction between the intellectual, sentient, and volun-
tary parts of our nature; since he speaks of the control
or regulation of the understanding as being, in the case
under consideration, subsequent to the possession of the
heart, and the determination of the will as subsequent to
both, or, at least, as not identical with them.
We might multiply passages of this kind to almost any
extent, if our limits would permit it. And these passa-
ges,
if the distinction for which we contend does not ex-
ist, must obviously convey erroneous ideas. This we can-
not well suppose. On the contrary, we have not the least
doubt that they express a great and important fact in our
mental constitution; a fact which is at the basis of all
* Currie's Life of Burns, Philadelphia ed., p. 62.
+ Conolly's Inquiries concerning the Indications of Insanity, &c,
Lond. ed., p. 454.
‡ Chesterfield, Lond. ed., vol. iii., p. 137.
GENERAL CLASSIFICATION.
53
true philosophy of the mind. A single extract more from
Shakspeare (Hamlet, Act i., Sc. ii.) will close this topic.
"It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
A heart unfortified-
An understanding simple and unschool'd.”
§ 34. Further proof from various writers on the mind.
The distinction in question has also been fully recog-
nised by various distinguished writers on the mind. The
following passage is to be found in Mr. Locke: "Thus,
by a due consideration, and examining any good proposed,
it is in our power to raise our desires in a due proportion
to the value of that good, whereby, in its turn and place,
it may come to work upon the will, and be pursued. For
good, though appearing, and allowed ever so great, yet,
till it has raised desires in our minds, and thereby made
Here
us uneasy in its want, it reaches not our wills.”*
the threefold division in question is distinctly recognised.
The due consideration and examining which are spoken
of, imply an act of the intellect; the desires, which are
subsequently raised, are appropriately ascribed to the sen-
sibilities; and these last are followed by an act of the
other part of our nature, viz., the will.
Mr. Hume, in his Dissertation on the Passions, has the
following passage, which is clear enough in its import
without comment: "It seems evident that reason, in a
strict sense, as meaning the judgment of truth and false-
and
hood, can never, of itself, be any motive to the will,
can have no influence but so far as it touches some pas-
sion or affection."
200
In the Essays on the Principles of Morality and Natu-
ral Religion, ascribed to Lord Kames, is a passage as fol-
lows: "He hath appetites and passions which prompt
him to their respective gratifications; but he is under no
necessity of blindly submitting to their impulse. For
reason hath a power of restraint. It suggests motives
from the cool views of good and evil. He deliberates
upon these. In consequence of his deliberation, he choos-
eth; and here, if anywhere, lies our liberty."
Among writers more recent, who have insisted on this
* Essay on the Understanding, bk. ii., ch. xxi., ◊ 46.
E 2
54
INTRODUCTION.
distinction with much earnestness and clearness, we may
mention Sir James Macintosh. In some strictures on Dr.
Price's Review of the Principal Questions in Morals, he
has occasion to make a remark, the substance of which
had been given before, and is repeated afterward, "that
no perception or judgment, or other unmixed act of the
understanding, merely as such, and without the agency
of some intermediate emotion, can affect the will.”*
1
A writer of our own country, who has furnished some
valuable contributions to a knowledge of our mental
structure, expresses himself thus: "Why do not philoso-
phers consider all the operations of the understanding and
the affections as constituting but one general class of op-
erations, and as belonging to one faculty? The reason is,
they see no similarity between intellectual perceptions and
affections. A perception is not a feeling either of pleas-
ure or pain, nor a desire. And pleasure, and pain, and
desires, they clearly see, are not perceptions. Hence class-
ing them together would be improper, and create confu-
sion. It would be confounding things which differ, and
destroying all those distinctions which are necessary to
the acquirement of scientific knowledge. For a person
has no more than a confused notion of things who does
not make distinctions where there are differences, or
point out the difference between one thing and another.
As perceptions and affections generically differ, philoso-
phers have distinguished them, and formed them into dis-
tinct classes; and so they have admitted the existence of
two faculties. And for the same reason they admit two,
they ought to grant there are three faculties. For, when
we attend to the affections and to volitions, it is evident
there is a generic difference between them. It is evident
that pain, pleasure, and desires are not volitions; and
have no similarity to those voluntary exertions which pro-
duce effects on the body, and in other things around us.
For these affections do not immediately produce any ex-
ternal effects; they are effects themselves produced by the
heart, and are either virtuous or vicious. For it has been
shown, that vice and virtue belong to the heart only, and
* General View of the Progress of Ethical Philosophy, p. 157.
GENERAL CLASSIFICATION.
55
its operations or affections. There is, therefore, no more
propriety in classing the affections and volitions together,
than in making but one class of the affections and percep-
tions. The affections and volitions so widely differ, that
they naturally divide themselves into two distinct general
classes."*
It would be easy here, as in the case of writers not pro-
fessedly and formally treating of mental philosophy, to
multiply passages of the same import from numerous oth-
er inquirers into the mind, if it were thought necessary.
The view thus taken by English and American writers is
sustained by judicious metaphysicians of other countries,
of which our limits will permit us to give only a single
passage as an instance. The writer, after some remarks
on the origin of the desires, hopes, and fears, proceeds as
follows: Ces affections internes sont ce que nous nom-
mons sentimens. Ils diffèrent des sensations, en ce que les
sensations ont leur source directement dans l'extérieur, tan-
dis que les sentimens sont produits en nous seulement à
l'occasion de l'exterieur, soit qu'il nous affecte actuelle-
ment, soit qu'il nous ait précédemment affectés. Ils re-
semblent aux sensations, en ce que, comme elles, ils sont
independans de notre volentè, et non susceptibles d'être
produits ou empêchés par nous. Qui peut, en effet, dé-
sirer, espérer, craindre à volonté ?”†
§ 35. Classification of the intellectual states of the mind.
For the reasons which have been given, we find our-
selves authorized, in the first place, in arranging the states,
exercises, or acts of the mind (for these terms, the most
general we can employ, will apply to all of these classes),
under the three general heads of Intellectual, Sensitive or
Sentient, and Voluntary. Our intellectual states of mind,
together with their corresponding susceptibilities or pow-
ers, will first come under consideration. On looking at-
tentively, however, at the intellectual part of our nature,
we readily discover that the results which are to be at-
tributed to it are susceptible of a subordinate classification,
* Burton's Essays on Metaphysics, Ethics, and Theology, p. 92.
+ De La Liberté et de ses Differens Modes, par Augustin-François
Théry.
56
INTRODUCTION.
viz, into INTELLECTUAL or INTELLECTIVE STATES of Exter-
nal, and those of Internal origin.
It is presumed, that, on a little examination, this dis-
tinction will be sufficiently obvious. If the mind were
insulated and cut off from the outward world, or if there
were no such outward world, could we feel, or see, or
hear? All those mental affections which we express
when we speak of the diversities of taste and touch, of
sound and sight, are utterly dependant on the existence
and presence of something which is exterior to the intel-
lect itself. But this cannot be said of what is expressed
by the words truth, falsehood, opinion, intelligence, cause,
obligation, effect, and numerous creations of the intellect
of a like kind.
It is worthy of remark, that the subordinate classifica-
tion which is now proposed to be made did not escape, in
its essential characteristics, the notice of very ancient wri-
ters. We have the authority of Cudworth,* that those
intellectual states which have an internal origin, bore
among the Greeks the name of NOEMATA, thoughts or in-
tellections; while those of external origin were called
AISTHEMATA, sensations. Although this classification, the
grounds of which cannot fail readily to present them-
selves, has been recognised and sanctioned, in some form
or other, by numerous writers on the human mind, it is
probable that some future opportunity will be found more
fully to explain and defend it; the objections which have
sometimes been made will not be overlooked; and it will
readily be perceived, that we shall be better prepared for
this proposed explanation, after having considered the re-
lation which the mind sustains to the external world by
means of the senses, and analyzed the knowledge which
has its origin in that source.
* Cudworth's Immutable Murality, bk. iv., ch. i.
DIVISION FIRST.
THE INTELLECT OR UNDERSTANDING.
INTELLECTIVE OR INTELLECTUAL STATES OF THE MIND.
PART FIRST.
THE EXTERNAL, OR RECEPTIVE INTELLECT
INTELLECTUAL STATES OF EXTERNAL ORIGIN.
CHAPTER I.
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
◊ 36. Connexion of the mind with the material world.
THE human mind has a nature and principles of its own;
but, at the same time, it cannot properly be said that it is
entirely independent in its action; that is to say, it un-
doubtedly has a connexion, more or less intimate and im-
portant, with other things. An entire separation of the
soul and its action from everything else is merely a suppo-
sition, an hypothesis, which is not realized in our present
state of being. What the soul will be in a future state
of existence, is, of course, another inquiry. It is possible
that it may be disburdened, more than it is in this life, of
connexions and dependencies, and will possess more free-
dom and energy; but it seems to be our appropriate busi-
ness at present to examine it as we find it here.
Whatever Providence may have in reserve for us in a
future state, it is obvious that in our present existence it
has designed and established an intimate connexion be-
tween the soul and the material world. We have a wit-
ness of this in the mere fact of the existence of an exter-
nal creation. Was all this visible creation made for no-
thing? Are the flowers, not only of the wilderness, but of
the cultivated place, formed merely to waste their sweet-
ness on the air? Are all those varieties of pleasing sound,
that come forth from animate and inanimate nature, utter-
ed and breathed out in vain? Can we permit ourselves
to suppose, that the symmetry of form everywhere exist-
ing in the outward world, the relations and aptitudes, the
beauties of proportion, and the decorations of colours, ex-
ist without any object? And yet this must be so, if there
be no connexion between the soul of man and outward
objects. What would be proportion, what would be col-
our, what would be harmony of sound without the soul,
to which they are addressed, and from which they are ac-
knowledged to derive their efficacy? Where there is no
60
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
soul, where there is a deprivation and want of the con-
scious spirit, there is no sight, no hearing, no touch, no
sense of beauty. Everything depends on the mind; the
senses are merely the medium of communication, the con-
ditions and helps of the perceptions, and not the percep-
tions themselves. With such considerations we justify
what has been said, that Providence designed, and that it
has established an intimate connexion between the soul
and the material world.
C
And there is another train of thought which leads to
the same conclusion. On any other supposition than the
existence of such a connexion, we cannot account for that
nice and costly apparatus of the nerves and organs of
sense with which we are furnished. Although we be-
hold on every side abundant marks of the Creator's good-
ness, we may safely say he does nothing in vain. The
question, then, immediately recurs, What is the meaning
of the expenditure of the Divine goodness in the forma-
tion of the eye, in the windings and ingenious construc-
tion of the ear, and in the diffusion of the sense of touch ?
We cannot give a satisfactory answer to this question, ex-
cept on the ground that there is a designed and established
connexion between the mind and the material world. If
we admit the existence of this connexion, everything is
at once explained.
§ 37. Of the origin or beginnings of knowledge.
The Creator, therefore, established the relation between
mind and matter; and it is a striking and important fact,
that, in this connexion of the mental and material world,
we are probably to look for the commencement of the
mind's activity, and for the beginnings of knowledge.
The soul, considered in its relationship to external nature,
may be compared to a stringed instrument. Regarded in
itself, it is an invisible existence, having the capacity and
elements of harmony. The nerves, the eye, and the
senses generally are the chords and artificial framework
which God has woven round its unseen and unsearchable
essence. This living and curious instrument, which was
before voiceless and silent, sends forth its sounds of har-
mony as soon as it is swept by outward influences. But
this, it will be noticed, is a general statement; the mean-
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
61
ing may not be perfectly obvious, and it will be necessa-
ry to descend to some particulars.
There are certain elementary notions, which seem to
be involved in, and inseparable from, our very existence,
such as self, identity, &c. The supposition would be
highly unreasonable that we can exist for any length of
time without possessing them. It is certain that these
notions are among the earliest which men form; and yet
cautious and judicious inquirers into the mind have ex-
pressed the opinion, that even these do not arise except
subsequently to an impression on the organs of sense.
Speaking of a being, whom, for the sake of illustration,
he supposes to be possessed of merely the two senses of
hearing and smelling, Mr. Stewart makes this remark:
"Let us suppose, then, a particular sensation to be exci-
ted in the mind of such a being. The moment this hap-
pens, he must necessarily acquire the knowledge of two
facts at once; that of the existence of the sensation, and
that of his own existence as a sentient being. This lan-
guage clearly implies, that the notions of existence and
of person or self are attendant upon, and subsequent to,
an affection of the mind, caused by an impression on the
senses. In his Essays he still more clearly and decisively
advances the opinion, that the mind is originally brought
into action through the medium of the senses, and that hu-
man knowledge has its origin in this way." All our sim-
ple notions," he says (Essay iii.), " or, in other words, all
the primary elements of our knowledge, are either pre-
sented to the mind immediately by the powers of conscious-
ness and perception, or they are gradually unfolded in the
exercise of the various faculties which characterize the hu-
man understanding. According to this view of the sub-
ject, the sum total of our knowledge may undoubtedly
be said to originate in sensation, inasmuch as it is by im-
pressions from without that consciousness is first awaken-
ed, and the different faculties of the understanding put in
action."+
""*
* Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. i., ch. i.-See also ◊ 5 of
this Work.
† Views similar to those of Mr. Stewart are maintained by De Geran-
do, in a Memoir entitled, De la Generation des Connoisances Humaines.
VOL. I.-F
62
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
Perhaps this subject, however, will always remain in
some degree of doubt; and we have merely to say, that
of the various opinions which have been advanced in re-
spect to it, we give the preference to that which has been
referred to, as supported by Stewart, De Gerando, and
other judicious writers, without any disposition to assert
its infallibility. The mind appears at its creation to be
merely an existence, involving certain principles, and en-
dued with certain powers, but dependant for the first and
original developement of those principles and the exer-
cise of those powers on the condition of an outward im-
pression. But, after it has once been brought into action,
it finds new sources of thought and feeling in itself.
§ 38. Our first knowledge in general of a material or external origin.
If we know not how a single leaf is formed, and are
baffled when we attempt to explain the growth even of a
blade of grass, it is not surprising that we should fail of
absolute certainty in explaining the first cause of the
mind's action, and the history of the first feeling to which
it gives birth. But, whatever may be true of the first
mental exercise, whether its existence be dependant on
the condition of some external impression on the senses
or not, it may be shown beyond doubt, that, during the
early period of life, the connexion of the mind with the
material world is particularly close, and that far the great-
er portion of its acts and feelings can be traced to that
source.
I.—What has been said will, in the first place, be found
agreeable to each one's individual experience. If we
look back to the early periods of life, we discover not
merely that our ideas are then comparatively few in num-
ber, but that far the greater proportion of them are sug-
gested by external objects. They are forced upon us by
our immediate wants; they have relation to what we
ourselves see, or hear, or touch; and only a small propor-
tion are internal and abstract. As we advance in years,
susceptibilities and powers of the mind are brought into
exercise, which have a less intimate connexion with things
external; and thoughts from within are more rapidly
multiplied than from without. We have in some meas-
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
63
ure exhausted that which is external; and as the mind,
awakened to a love of knowledge and a consciousness of
its own powers, has at last been brought fully into action
by means of repeated affections of the senses, a new world
(as yet in some degree a TERRA INCOGNITA) projects itself
upon our attention, where we are called upon to push our
researches and gratify our curiosity. This is the
the general
experience, the testimony which each one can give for
himself.
In the second place, what has been said finds con-
firmation in what we observe of the progress of the mind
in infants and children generally. The course of things
which we observe in them agrees with what our personal
consciousness and remembrance, as far back as it goes, en-
ables us to testify with no little confidence in our own case.
No one can observe the operations of the mind in infants
and children, without being led to believe that the Cre-
ator has instituted a connexion between the mind and
the material world, and that the greater portion of our
early knowledge is from an outward source.
To the infant its nursery is the world. The first ideas
of the human race are its particular conceptions of its
nurse and mother; and the origin and history of all its
notions may be traced to its animal wants, to the light
that breaks in from its window, and to the few objects in
the immediate neighbourhood of the cradle and hearth.
When it has become a few years of age, there are other
sources of information, other fountains of thought, but
they are still external and material. The child then
learns the topography of his native village; he explores
the margin of its river, ascends its flowering hills, and
penetrates the seclusion of its valleys. His mind is full
of activity; new and exalting views crowd upon his per-
ceptions; he beholds, and hears, and handles; he won-
ders, and is delighted. And it is not till after he has
grasped the elements of knowledge, which the outward
world gives, that he retires within himself, compares, rea-
sons, and seeks for causes and effects.
It is in accordance with what has now been stated of
the tendencies of mind in children, that we generally find
them instructed by means of sensible objects, or by pic-
J
64
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
tures of such objects. When their teachers make an ab-
stract statement to them of an action or event, they do
not understand it; they listen to it with an appearance
of confusion and vacancy, for the process is undoubtedly
against nature. But show them the objects themselves,
or a faithful picture of them, and interpret your abstract
expressions by a reference to the object or picture, and
they are observed to learn with rapidity and pleasure.
The time has not yet arrived for the springing up and
growth of thoughts of an internal and abstract origin.
§ 39. Further proof of the beginnings of knowledge from external
causes.
In the third place, the history of language is a strong
proof of the correctness of the position, that the mind is
first brought into action by means of the senses, and ac-
quires its earliest knowledge from that source. At first
words are few in number, corresponding to the limited
extent of ideas. The vocabulary of savage tribes (those,
for example, which inhabit the American continent) is, in
general, exceedingly limited. The growth of a language
corresponds to the growth of mind; it extends itself by
the increased number and power of its words, nearly in
exact correspondence with the multiplication and the
increased complexity of thought. Now the history of
all language teaches us, that words, which were invent-
ed and brought into use one after another, in the gradu-
al way just mentioned, were first employed to express
external objects, and afterward were used to express
thoughts of an internal origin. Some writer remarks,
that among the Boschuanas of South Africa, who live in
a parched and arid country, the word PULO, which literally
signifies rain, is the only term they have to express a
blessing or blessings. But there may be blessings internal
as well as external; goods and joys of the mind as well
as of the body; still, in the language of these Africans,
it is all rain; the blessings of hope, and peace, and
friendship, and submission, and all other modes of intel-
lectual and sentient good, are nothing but rain.
Almost
There are thousands of instances of this kind.
all the words in every language expressive of the suscep-

ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
65
tibilities and operations of the mind, may be clearly
shown to have had an external origin and application
before they were applied to the mind. To IMAGINE, in its
literal signification, implies the forming of a picture; to
IMPRESS conveys the idea of leaving a stamp or mark,
as the seal leaves its exact likeness or stamp on wax; to
REFLECT literally means to turn back, to go over the
ground again, &c. These words cannot be applied to
the mind in the literal sense; the nature of the mind will
not admit of such an application; the inference there-
fore is, that they first had an external application. Now
if it be an established truth, that all language has a pri-
mary reference to external objects, and that there is no
term expressive of mental acts which was not originally
expressive of something material, the conclusion would
seem to be a fair one, that the part of our knowledge,
which has its rise by means of the senses, is, as a general
statement, first in origin. And the more so, when we
combine with these views the considerations which have
been previously advanced.
§ 40. The same subject further illustrated.
And, in the fourth place, it is not too much to say, that
all the observations which have been made on persons
who, from their birth, or at any subsequent period, have
been deprived of any of the senses, and all the extraor-
dinary facts which have come to our knowledge having
a bearing on this inquiry, go strongly in favour of the
views which have been given.-It appears, for instance,
from the observations which have been made in regard
to persons who have been deaf until a particular period,
and then have been restored to the power of hearing,
that they never previously had those ideas which naturally
come in by that sense. If a person has been born blind,
the result is the same; or if having the sense of sight, it
has so happened that he has never seen any colours of a
particular description. In the one case he has no ideas
of colours at all, and in the other only of those colours
which he has seen.-It may be said, perhaps, that this is
what might be expected, and merely proves the senses to
be a source of knowledge, without necessarily involving
F 2
66
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
the priority of that knowledge to what has an internal
origin. But then observe the persons referred to a little
further, and it will be found, as a general statement, that
the powers of their minds have not been unfolded; they
lay wrapped up, in a great measure, in their original dark-
ness; no inward light springs up to compensate for the
absence of that which, in other cases, bursts in from the
outward world. This circumstance evidently tends to
confirm the principle we are endeavouring to illustrate.
Of those extraordinary instances to which we alluded
as having thrown some light on the history of our intel-
lectual acquisitions, is the account which is given in the
Memoirs of the French Academy of Sciences for the
year 1703, of a deaf and dumb young man in the city
of Chartres. At the age of three-and-twenty, it so hap-
pened, to the great surprise of the whole town, that hẹ
was suddenly restored to the sense of hearing, and in a
short time he acquired the use of language. Deprived
for so long a period of a sense which in importance
ranks with the sight and the touch, unable to hold com-
munion with his fellow-beings by means of oral or writ-
ten language, and not particularly compelled, as he had
every care taken of him by his friends and relations, to
bring his faculties into exercise, the powers of his mind
remained without having opportunity to unfold them-
selves. Being examined by some men of discernment, it
was found that he had no idea of a God, of a soul, of
the moral merit or demerit of human actions; and what
might seem to be yet more remarkable, he knew not
what it was to die; the agonies of dissolution, the grief
of friends, and the ceremonies of interment being to him
inexplicable mysteries.
Here we see how much knowledge a person was de-
prived of merely by his wanting the single sense of
hearing; a proof that the senses were designed by our
Creator to be the first source of knowledge, and that
without them the faculties of the soul would never become
operative.
§ 41. Subject illustrated from the case of James Mitchell.
But the foregoing is not the only instance of this sort
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
67
"
which ingenious men have noticed and recorded. In
the Transactions of the Royal Society at Edinburgh
(vol. vii., pt. 1) is a Memoir communicated by Dugald
Stewart, which gives an account of James Mitchell, a boy
born deaf and blind. The history of this lad, who la-
boured under the uncommon affliction of this double dep-
rivation, illustrates and confirms all that has been above
stated. He made what use he could of the only senses
which he possessed, those of touch, taste, and smell, and
gained from them a number of ideas. It was a proof
of the diligence with which he employed the limited
means which were given him, that he had, by the sense of
touch, thoroughly explored the ground in the neighbour-
hood of the house where he lived, for hundreds of yards.
But deprived of sight, of hearing, and of intercourse by
speech, it was very evident to those who observed him,
as might be expected, that his knowledge was in amount
exceedingly small. He was destitute of those perceptions
which are appropriate to the particular senses of which
he was deprived; and also of many other notions of
an internal origin, which would undoubtedly have arisen
if the powers of the mind had previously been rendered
fully operative by means of those assistances which it
usually receives from the bodily organs.-Such instances
as these, however they may at first appear, are extremely
important. They furnish us with an appeal, not to mere
speculations, but to fact. And it is only by checking
undue speculation, and by recurring to facts, that our
progress in this science will become sure, rapid, and de-
lightful.*
*
§ 42. Illustration from the case of Caspar Hauser.
There is a recent instance, perhaps more decisive than
has ever before occurred, and as melancholy as it is deep-
ly interesting. We refer to the case of Caspar Hauser.
It appears, from all that can be gathered on the subject,
that this unfortunate lad was from infancy confined in a
* The statements concerning the young man of Chartres are particu-
larly examined in Condillac's Essay on the Origin of Knowledge, at
Section fourth of Part first. The interesting Memoir of Stewart has
recently been republished in the third volume of his Elements of the
Philosophy of the Human Mind.
68
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
low and small apartment, which he sometimes called a
cage. No light ever entered this little prison. Till his
release in the seventeenth year of his age, he never saw
the sky, nor the pleasant light of day, nor ever perceived
any difference between day and night. Whenever he
awoke from sleep, which was generally sound and at
stated intervals, he found a loaf of bread and a pitch-
er of water near him. Sometimes the water was mixed
with opium or some other intoxicating drug. Under the
influence of this mixture, which was occasionally given
him, he was suddenly cast into a profound slumber; and
when he afterward awoke, he found that he had a clean
shirt on, and that his nails had been cut. He never saw
the face of the man who changed his clothing and brought
him his food and drink. The only objects which he had
to amuse himself with were two wooden horses and sey-
eral ribands. These horses he believed to have a degree
of life and sensibility. His only occupation was to move
them backward and forward by his side; and to tie the
ribands upon them in various positions. While in his lit-
tle prison he never heard a human voice, nor any other
sound except what he himself made in playing with his
little wooden companions. Thus it was in a solitude and
inactivity little less than that of the grave, he spent his
infancy, childhood, and youth.
But it is unnecessary to go into all the particulars of
this unfortunate young man's history. When he was re-
leased from his confinement in the year 1828, he was, as
nearly as could be ascertained from the structure and de-
velopements of his body, about 17 years of age.-And
what was the condition of his mind? He had no knowl-
edge of language, excepting a few words, to which he
seems to have attached scarcely any meaning. When he
appeared, helpless and alone, in the streets of Nurem-
berg, the common questions of the police officers were put
to him. What is your name? What is your business?
Whence came you? But he had no perception of their
import. He heard without understanding; he saw with-
out perceiving; the tears stood in his eye; unintelligible
sounds and sorrowful moans burst from his lips. He was
entirely ignorant of all the common objects and occurren-
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
69
ces of nature, and of all the usual customs and conve-
niences of life. Like the blind boy couched by Chesel-
den for the cataract, he was incapable of estimating the
true direction and distance of things. The objects which
were presented to his notice affected him as they do an
infant or a little child. He endeavoured, for instance,
to lay hold of all bright and glittering objects just as a
child does; and when he could not reach them, or was
forbidden to touch them, he cried. He was attracted by
the brightness of an object; but he seemed incapable of
distinguishing one object from another. When objects
were brought very near to him, he generally gazed at
them with a stupid look, which only in particular instan-
ces was expressive of curiosity and astonishment. He
could not distinguish animated things from inanimate ;
but ascribed a degree of life to all. He had no ideas of
family, of relationship and friendship, and would often
ask for an explanation of what is meant by mother, broth-
er, and sister. He had no moral or religious ideas; and
even the sentiments of modesty and shame, so deeply im-
planted in the human breast and so easily called into ac-
tion, seem never to have been excited in his bosom. In
a word, his mind was essentially an unintelligent blank;
and this merely because it had been shut out from any
connexion with the outward world of men and nature.
No basis had been laid for its operations; the power des-
tined to bring it into action had never touched it; it was
like some desert place of earth, where the sun never
shone, and the breeze never blew, and the rain never de-
scended, that presents to the eye of the beholder one un-
varied surface of arid and withering desolation.
§ 43. Of connatural or innate knowledge.
The considerations of this chapter naturally bring us
upon the question of innate or connatural knowledge. It
was formerly maintained by certain writers, that there are
in the minds of men ideas and propositions which are
not acquired or taught at any time or in any way, but
are coetaneous with the existence of the mind itself, being
wrought into, and inseparable from it. It was maintain-
ed that they are limited to no one class, neither to the
70
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
rich nor the poor, neither to the learned nor the ignorant,
to no clime and to no country, but all participate in them
alike. These propositions and ideas, being coetanecus
with the existence of the soul, and being there establish-
ed at the commencement of its existence by the ordinance
of the Deity, were regarded as the first principles of
knowledge, and as the rules by which men were to be gui-
ded in all their reasonings about natural and moral objects.
From these innate and original propositions, the follow-
ing may be selected as specimens of the whole: (1.) Of
the natural kind. The whole is greater than a part:
Whatever is, is: It is impossible for the same thing to be
and not to be at the same time and in the same sense.-
(2.) Of the moral kind. Parents must be honoured: In-
jury must not be done: Contracts should be fulfilled, &c.
(3.) Of the religious kind. There is a God: God is to
be worshipped: God will approve virtue and punish vice.
§ 44. The doctrine of innate knowledge not susceptible of proof.
It will not be deemed necessary to spend much time on
this subject, or to enter into any length of investigation.
There seems to be an utter absence of all satisfactory ev-
idence, that there is in men any amount of knowledge
whatever answering to this description. The prominent
argument brought forward by the supporters of this doc-
trine was this, that all mankind, without exception, and
from the earliest period of our being able to form an ac-
quaintance with their minds, exhibit a knowledge of
ideas and propositions of this kind, and that this universal
knowledge of them cannot be accounted for, except on
the ground of their being coetaneous with the mind's ex-
istence, and originally implanted in it. Now if we ad-
mit that all men are acquainted with them and assent to
them, this by no means proves them innate, so long as
we can account for this acquaintance and this assent in
some other way. It is granted by all that the mind ex-
ists, that it is capable of action, and that it possesses the
power or the ability of acquiring knowledge. If, there-
fore, in the exercise of this ability, which all admit it to
have, we can come to the knowledge of what are called
innate or connatural ideas and propositions, it is unneces-
-
-
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
71
sary to assign to them another origin, in support of
which no positive proof can be brought.
But the truth is, that all men are not acquainted with
the ideas and propositions in question, and especially do
not exhibit such an acquaintance from the first dawn of
their knowledge, as would be the case if they were con-
natural in the mind. The supposed fact on which this
argument is founded is a mere assumption; it has never
been confirmed by candid and careful inquiry, which
ought to be done before it is made use of as proof; nor
is it susceptible of such confirmation.
§ 45. The doctrine tried by the idea of a God.
-
Every enumeration of innate propositions embraces the
following, That all men have a notion of a God; and
undoubtedly, if there be any one which has a claim to
universality and early developement, it is this. But, in
point of fact, we know that all men are not acquainted
with this notion; the testimony of travellers among un-
civilized nations has been given again and again, that
there is not such a universal acquaintance. It is true that
all men have in themselves the elements from which the
idea may be formed; but, owing to the peculiar circum-
stances of extreme depression and ignorance in which
they are sometimes placed, there are some individuals in
whom it is not developed; and perhaps whole tribes
or classes of men, as some travellers have stated, in whom
the developement is so weak, if it exists at all, as to be
imperceptible. There is also a class of unfortunate per-
sons to be found in civilized and Christian nations (we
have reference to the deaf and dumb, those in the sit-
uation of the young man at Chartres), who will throw
light on this subject, if men will but take the trouble to
examine those who have in no way received religious in-
struction. There is reason to believe that, in many cases,
they will be found utterly without a knowledge of their
Creator.
Massieu was the son of a poor shepherd in the neigh-
bourhood of Bordeaux. Destitute from birth of the sense
of hearing, and, as a natural consequence, of the power
of speech, he grew up, and knew barely enough to en-
able him to watch his father's flocks in the fields. Al-
72
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
though his capacity was afterward fully proved to be of the
most comprehensive and splendid character, as it was not
then drawn out and brought into action, he appeared in
early life to be but little above an idiot. In this situation
he was taken under the care of the benevolent Sicard,
who was able, after great labour and ingenuity, to quicken
by degrees the slumbering power of thought into devel-
opement and activity. Did his instructer suppose that
Massieu was acquainted with the notion of a God ?—
Far from it; he had abundant evidence to the contrary;
nor did he even undertake to teach him that vast idea for
some time. He directed his attention at first to knowl-
edge more obvious and accessible in its origin; he led
him, in perfect consistency with what is required by the
nature and laws of the mind, by easy steps from one de-
gree of knowledge to another, till he supposed him ca-
pable of embracing the glorious conception of a First
Cause. Then he contrived to arouse his attention and
anxiety; he introduced him to a train of thought which
would naturally bring him to the desired result; he had
previously taught him the relation of cause and effect ;
and on this occasion he showed him his watch, and, by
signs, gave him to understand that it implied a designer
and maker; and the same of a picture, a piece of statu-
ary, a book, a building, and other objects indicative of
design. Then he held up before him a chain, showing
him how one link was connected with, and dependant on,
another; in this way he introduced into the mind of Mas-
sieu the complex notion of the mutual dependance and
concatenation of causes. At last the full idea, the con-
ception of a primary, self-existent, and self-energetic
cause, the notion of a God, came like light from Heaven
into his astonished and rejoicing soul. He trembled, says
his historian; he was deeply affected, prostrated himself,
and gave signs of reverence and adoration. And when
he arose, he uttered by signs also, for he had no other
language, these beautiful words, which his instructer de-
clared he should never forget: Ah! let me go to my
father, to my mother, to my brothers, to tell them of a
God; they know Him not.*
* See the work of Sicard, entitled Cours d'Instruction d'un Sourd-
Muet de Naissance, chap. xxv.
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
73
Such facts and instances settle this question; they prove
that the doctrine of inborn and connatural knowledge is
unfounded; and may we not add, that they are in per-
fect accordance with a well-known passage of the Apostle
Paul: "The invisible things of God, from the creation of
the world, are clearly seen, being understood by the things
that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead."
§ 46. The discussion of this subject superseded and unnecessary.
It is an additional reason for not entering with more
fullness and particularity into this inquiry, that the doc-
trine of innate or connatural knowledge has been fre-
quently discussed at length and refuted, particularly by
Gassendi and Locke, and more recently by De Gerando.
This being the case, and public sentiment at the same
time decidedly rejecting it, it cannot be supposed that ev-
ery writer on the human mind is called upon to introduce
the subject anew, to go over a train of argument, and
slay a victim already thrice slain. Let us ask, Are we
called upon at the present day to consider and refute ev-
ery wild notion which has ever been proposed? On that
ground we should not stop here; we must follow Locke
further, and undertake a confutation of the doctrine of
Malebranche, that we see all things in God; we must fol-
low Reid in his laboured and conclusive overthrow of the
long-established opinion, that we know nothing of the
material world except by means of filmy images or pic-
tures, actually thrown off from outward objects, and lodg-
ed in the sensorium. But such a course will be purpose-
ly avoided; it would be alike toilsome and unsatisfactory;
it would be as unreasonable as to require from every au-
thor in Natural Philosophy a new confutation of the Al-
chemists, and to exact from every modern astronomer a
like renewed discomfiture of the long-since exploded the-
ories of the heavenly motions. Mr. Locke himself seems
willing to admit, that the discussion does not naturally and
necessarily make a part of Mental Philosophy; and gives
us clearly to understand that it holds so conspicuous a
place in his Essay, merely from the accidental circum-
stance of the prevalence in his own time of the error
which he confuted. Accordingly, when he prepared an
VOL. I.-G

74
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
abstract or abridgment of that work for Le Clerc's Bib-
liotheque Universelle, he omitted the whole of the Book
on innate ideas.
-
Furthermore, the whole system of Mr. Locke (and the
same may be said of the views of Reid, Stewart, De Ge-
rando, and Brown, who cannot be considered in the prom-
inent outlines of their doctrines as essentially differing
from him) is an indirect, but conclusive argument against
connatural knowledge. If the principles which they ad-
vance be right, the doctrine of connatural knowledge is,
of course, wrong, and requires no direct refutation.
§ 47. Further remarks on the rise of knowledge by means of the senses.
Considering it, therefore, as settled that there is no con--
natural knowledge, we recur with increased confidence
to the principle which has been laid down in this chap-
ter, that the mind is first brought into action by the inter-
mediation of the senses, and that the greater part of its
earliest knowledge is from an external source.
The con-
siderations that have been adduced in support of this doc-
trine are obvious and weighty; they account with much
probability for the beginnings of thought and feeling, and
are entirely decisive of the character of our early acqui-
sitions in general. The subject, however, is still open to
reflection, and, if it were needful, might be placed in oth-
er lights.
Let us, then, suppose a man entirely cut off from all
outward material impressions, or, what is the same thing,
with his senses entirely closed. It is very obvious, and
the instances already brought forward clearly prove, that
he would be entirely deprived of that vast amount of
knowledge which has an immediate connexion with the
senses. But this is not all; there are other ideas, whose
connexion with the senses is less immediate, of which he
would not fail to be deprived, by being placed in the cir-
cumstances supposed. Even if he should possess the idea
of existence, and of himself as a thinking and sentient
being (although we cannot well imagine how this should
be, independently of some impression on the senses), still
we have no reason to believe that he would know any-
thing of space, of motion, of the place of objects, of
time, &c.
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.
75
Now it will be noticed that these are elementary
thoughts of great importance; such as are rightly consid-
ered essential to the appropriate action of the mind, and
to its advancement in knowledge. What could he know
of time without a knowledge of day and night, the rising
and setting sun, the changes of the seasons, or some other
of its measurements! What could he know of motion
while utterly unable to form the idea of place! And
what could he know of place without the aid of the sen-
ses! And, under such circumstances, what reasoning
would he be capable of, further than to form the single
proposition, that his feelings, whatever they might be, be-
longed to himself!
Look at the subject as we will, we must at last come to
the conclusion, that the connexion of the mind with the
material world by means of the senses is the basis, to a
great extent at least, of our early mental history, and the
only key that can unlock its explanation. A sketch of
that part of the mind's history, without a reference to its
relation to matter, would infallibly be found vague, imper-
fect, and false.-Let it suffice, then, to add here, that man
is what he is in fact, and what he is designed to be in
the present life, only by means of this connexion. He
cannot free himself from it if he would; and if he should
succeed in the attempt, it would only result in self-pros-
tration and imbecility. The forms of matter, operating
through the senses, press, as it were, on the soul's secret
power of harmony, and it sends forth the answer of its
thought and feeling. The material creation, where Prov-
idence has fixed our dwelling-place, and this earthly ten-
ement of our bodies, form the first scene of the mind's de-
velopement, the first theatre of its exercises, where it puts
forth and enacts the incipient part in the great drama of
its struggles, growth, and triumphs.
76
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION
CHAPTER II.
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
§ 48. Sensation a simple mental state originating in the senses.
In tracing the history of that portion of human thought
which is of external origin, we have frequent occasion to
make use of the words Sensation and Perception. The
term SENSATION is not of so general a nature as to include
every variety of mental state, but is limited to such as
answer to a particular description. It does not appear
that the usage of language would forbid our speaking of
the feelings of warmth, and coldness, and hardness, as
well as of the feelings of love, and benevolence, and an-
ger, but it would clearly forbid our using the term SENSA-
TION with an application equally extensive. Its applica-
tion is not only limited, but is fixed with a considerable
degree of precision.
Sensation, being a simple act or state of the mind, is
unsusceptible of definition; and this is one of its charac-
teristics. As this alone, however, would not separate it
from many other mental states, it has this peculiarity to
distinguish it, that it is immediately successive to a change
in some organ of sense, or, at least, to a bodily change of
some kind. But it is evident that, in respect to numer-
ous other feelings, this statement does not hold good.
They are immediately subsequent, not to bodily impres-
sions, but to other states of the soul itself. Hence it is,
that while we speak of the sensations of heat and cold,
hardness, extension, and the like, we do not commonly
apply this term to joy and sorrow, hatred and love, and
other emotions and passions.
§ 49. All sensation is properly and truly in the mind.
Sensation is often regarded as something having a po-
sition, and as taking place in the body, and particularly in
the organ of sense. The sensation of touch, as we seem
to imagine, is in the hand, which is the organ of touch,
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
197
and is not truly internal; the hearing is in the ear, and
the vision in the eye, and not in the soul. But it will at
once occur, that this supposition, however widely and gen-
erally it may be made, is altogether at variance with those
essential notions which we have found it necessary to
form of matter. If the matter of the hand, of the eye,
or ear, can have feeling in any degree whatever, there is
no difficulty in the supposition, that the matter of the
brain, or any other material substance, can put forth the
exercises and functions of thought. But, after what has
been already said on the subject of the mind's immate-
riality, this supposition is altogether inadmissible. All
we can say with truth and on good grounds is, that the
organs of sense are accessory to sensation and necessary
to it, but the sensation or feeling itself is wholly in the
mind. How often it is said the eye sees; but the proper
language is, the soul sees, for the eye is only the organ,
instrument, or minister of the soul in visual perceptions.
"A man," says Dr. Reid," cannot see the satellites of
Jupiter but by a telescope. Does he conclude from this
that it is the telescope that sees those stars? By no
means; such a conclusion would be absurd. It is no less
absurd to conclude that it is the eye that sees or the ear
that hears. The telescope is an artificial organ of sight,
but it sees not. The eye is a natural organ of sight by
which we see; but the natural organ sees as little as the
artificial."
Among other things illustrative of the correctness of
what has been said, there is this consideration also. The
opinion that sensation is in the organ or some other ma-
terial part, and not in the soul, is inconsistent with the
fundamental and indisputable doctrine of mental identity.
"When I say I see, I hear, I feel," says the same judi-
cious author," this implies that it is one and the same
self that performs all these operations. And as it would
be absurd to say that my memory, another man's imagi-
nation, and a third man's reason, may make one individ-
ual intelligent being, it would be equally absurd to say
that one piece of matter seeing, another hearing, and a
third feeling, may make one and the same percipient
being."*
* Reid's Intellectual Powers, Essay ii.
78
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
Although the opinion that sensation is not in the mind,
but in the body, is unfounded, it is not, perhaps, surpri-
sing that such a belief should have arisen. If the hand
be palsied, there is no sensation of touch; if the ear be
stopped, there is no sensation of hearing; if the eye be
closed, there is no vision; hence it happens, that when
we have these sensations, we are led to think of the or-
gan or part of the bodily system, with the affection of which
they are connected. When we feel a pain arising from
an external cause, it is a natural, and often a useful curi-
osity which endeavours to learn the particular place in the
body which is affected. This, which we are generally
able to ascertain, always arrests our attention more or
less. In this way we gradually form a very strong asso-
ciation, and almost unconsciously transfer the place of
the inward sensation to that outward part, with which
we have so frequently connected it in our thoughts. Al-
though this is clearly a mere fallacy, the circumstance of
its being a plausible and tenacious one renders it the
more necessary to guard against it.
-
§ 50. Sensations are not images or resemblances of objects.
on.
But while we are careful to assign sensations their true
place in the mind, and to look upon what is outward in
the body as merely the antecedents or causes of them, it
is a matter of some consequence to guard against a dan-
ger directly the reverse of that which has been remarked
We are apt to transfer to the sensation, considered as
existing in the mind, some of those qualities which belong
to the external object. But, in point of fact, our sensa-
tions are by no means copies, pictures, or images of out-
ward objects; nor are they representations of them in any
material sense whatever; nor do they possess any of their
qualities.
It is true, we often think it otherwise; constantly occu-
pied with external objects, when in the act of contempla-
tion we retire within the mind, we unwarily carry with us
the form and qualities of matter, and stamp its likeness
on the thought itself. But the thought, whatever it may
by the constitution of our nature be the sign of, has no
form, and presents no image analogous to what are out-
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
79
wardly objects of touch and sight; nor has it form or im-
age in any sense which we can conceive of. When, there-
fore, we have an idea of some object as round, we are not
to infer, from the existence of the quality in the outward
object, that the mental state is possessed of the same qual-
ity; when we think of anything as extended, it is not to
be supposed that the thought itself has extension; when
we behold and admire the varieties of colour, we are not
at liberty to indulge the presumption that the inward feel-
ings are painted over, and radiant with corresponding
hues. There is nothing of the kind; and the admission
of such a principle would lead to a multitude of errors.
This subject is illustrated in the following manner by
Dr. Reid, whom we have already had repeated occasion
to refer to on the subject before us." Pressing my hand
with force against the table, I feel pain, and I feel the ta-
ble to be hard. The pain is a sensation of the mind, and
there is nothing that resembles it in the table. The hard-
ness is in the table, nor is there anything resembling it in
the mind. Feeling is applied to both, but in a different
sense; being a word common to the act of sensation, and
to that of perceiving by the sense of touch.
"I touch the table gently with my hand, and I feel it
to be smooth, hard, and cold. These are qualities of the
table perceived by touch; but I perceive them by means
of a sensation which indicates them. This sensation not
being painful, I commonly give no attention to it. It
carries my thought immediately to the thing signified by
it, and is itself forgotten as if it had never been. But by
repeating it, and turning my attention to it, and abstract-
ing my thought from the thing signified by it, I find it to
be merely a sensation, and that it has no similitude to the
hardness, smoothness, or coldness of the table which are
signified by it.
"It is indeed difficult, at first, to disjoin things in our
attention which have always been conjoined, and to
make that an object of reflection which never was so be-
fore; but some pains and practice will overcome this dif-
ficulty in those who have got the habit of reflecting on
the operations of their own minds."*
* Reid's Intellectual Powers, Essay ii.

80
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
§ 51. The connexion between the mental and physical change not
susceptible of explanation.
External bodies operate on the senses before there is
any affection of the mind, but it is not easy to say what
the precise character and extent of this operation is. We
know that some object capable of affecting the organ
must be applied to it in some way either directly or indi-
rectly, and it is a matter of knowledge also, that some
change in the organ actually takes place; but further
than this we are involved in uncertainty. All we can
undertake to do at present is the mere statement of the
facts, viz., the application of an external body, and some
change in consequence of it in the organ of sense.
Subsequently to the change in the organ, either at its
extremity and outward developement, or in the brain,
with which it is connected, and of which it may be con-
sidered as making a part, a change in the mind or a new
state of the mind immediately takes place. Here also we
are limited to the mere statement of the fact. We here
touch upon one of those boundaries of the intellect which
men are probably not destined to pass in the present life.
We find ourselves unable to resolve and explain the con-
nexion between mind and matter in this case as we do
in all others. All we know and all we can state with
confidence is, that a mental affection is immediately sub-
sequent to an affection or change which is physical.
Such is our nature, and such the appointment of Him
who made it.
§ 52. Of the meaning and nature of perception.
We next come to the subject of PERCEPTION, which is
intimately connected with that of sensation. This term,
like many others, admits of considerable latitude in its ap-
plication. In common language, we are not only said to
have the power of perceiving outward objects, but also
of perceiving the agreement or disagreement in the acts
of the mind itself. Accordingly, we perceive a tree in
the forest or a ship at sea, and we also perceive that
the whole is greater than a part, and that the three an-
gles of a triangle are equal to two right angles. But
what we have to say here does not concern internal per-
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
81
ception, but merely that which relates to objects exterior
to the mind.
Perception, using the term in its application to out-
ward objects, differs from sensation as a whole does from
a part; it embraces more. It may be defined, therefore,
an affection or state of the mind which is immediately
successive to certain affections of the organ of sense,
and which is referred by us to something external as its
cause.
It will be recollected that the term SENSATION, when
applied to the mind, expresses merely the state of the
mind, without reference to anything external which might
be the cause of it, and that it is the name of a truly sim-
ple feeling. Perception, on the contrary, is the name of
a complex mental state, including not merely the internal
affection of the mind, but also a reference to the exterior
cause. Sensation is wholly within; but Perception car-
ries us, as it were, out of ourselves, and makes us ac-
quainted with the world around us. It is especially by
means of this last power that material nature, in all its
varieties of form and beauty, is brought within the range
of our inspection. If we had but sensation alone, there
would still be form and fragrance, and colour and har-
mony of sound, but it would seem to be wholly inward.
The mind would then become not merely what Leibnitz
supposed it to be, a mirror of the universe; it would be
to us the universe itself; we could know no other world,
no other form of being. Perception prevents the possi-
bility of such a mistake; it undeceives and dissipates the
flattering notion that all things are in the soul; it leads
us to other existences, and, in particular, to the knowl-
edge of the vast and complicated fabric of the material
creation.
§ 53. Of the primary and secondary qualities of matter.
From what has been said, it will be noticed that SEN-
SATION implies the existence of an external material
world as its cause, and that PERCEPTION implies the same
existence both as cause and object. As, therefore, the
material world comes now so directly and closely under
consideration, it seems proper briefly to advert to that
82
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
f
subject. It is hardly necessary to say that we are alto-
gether ignorant of the subjective or real essence of mat-
ter. Our knowledge embraces merely its qualities or
properties, and nothing more. Without proposing to en-
ter into a minute examination of them, it will be proper
to recall the recollection here, that the qualities of mate-
rial bodies have been ranked by writers under the two
heads of Primary and Secondary.
The PRIMARY QUALITIES are known by being essential
to the existence of all bodies. They are extension, fig-
ure, divisibility, and solidity; and some writers have in-
cluded motion. They are called PRIMARY for the obvious
reason that all men embrace them in the notions which
they form of matter, and that they are essential to its
existence. All bodies have extension, all bodies have
figure, all are capable of division, all possess the attri-
bute of solidity.
By SOLIDITY in bodies (perhaps some would prefer the
term RESISTANCE) is to be understood that quality by
which a body hinders the approach of others between
which it is interposed. In this sense, even water, and all
other fluids, are solid. If particles of water could be
prevented from separating, they would oppose so great
resistance that it would be impossible for any two bod-
ies, between which they might be, to come in contact.
This was shown in an experiment which was once made
at Florence. A quantity of water was enclosed in a
gold ball, which, on the most violent pressure, could not
be made to fill the internal cavity, until the water inside
was forced through the pores.-There is reason also for
that part of the arrangement which includes DIVISIBILITY.
We cannot conceive of a particle so small as not to be
susceptible of division. And to that small particle must
belong not only divisibility, but the qualities of solidity,
extension, and figure.
§ 54. Of the secondary qualities of matter.
The SECONDARY qualities of bodies are of two kinds;
(1.) Those which have relation to the perceiving and
sentient mind; (2.) Those which have relation to other
bodies.
SENSATION 83
AND
AND PERCEPTION.
.4
Under the first class are to be included sound, colour,
taste, smell, hardness and softness, heat and cold, rough-
ness and smoothness, &c. When we say of a body it
has sound, we imply in this remark that it possesses qual-
ities which will cause certain effects in the mind; the
term sound being applicable by the use of language both
to the qualities of the external object, and to the effect
produced within. When we say it has colour, we always
make a like reference to the mind which beholds and con-
templates it; and it is the same of the other secondary
qualities of this description.
.
The other class of secondary qualities (or properties,
as they are not unfrequently termed), those which have
relation to other material bodies, are exceedingly various
and numerous. The material substance which, in relation
to the mind, possesses the qualities of sound and colour,
may possess also, in relation to other bodies, the qualities
or properties of malleability, fusibility, solubility, permea-
bility, and the like.
§ 55. Of the nature of mental powers or faculties.
We have spoken of Perception as a POWER of the
mind, as well as a mental state or act. This twofold use
of the term is owing to the imperfection of language.
The same term, at least in the English language, signi-
fies both the result and the corresponding power; and
oftentimes there is nothing but the connexion to deter-
mine which is meant. But we have adverted to this
subject here merely for the purpose of suggesting the
importance of keeping in recollection that mental pow-
ers (what are otherwise called faculties, and not unfre-
quently susceptibilities) are not distinct from the mind
itself. They are only the ability of the mind to act in a
particular way. We apply the term also in other cases;
we speak of the power or faculty of the MEMORY, of REA-
SONING, Of IMAGINATION, &c. Such expressions are found
in all languages, and cannot well be avoided. They are
brief, and, on the whole, convenient representations of the
various ways in which the soul is capable of acting or
exerting itself.
But while we keep in recollection that powers or fac-
-
84
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE.
A
ulties are only the ability of the mind to act in a partic-
ular way, it is further to be noticed, that, in many cases,
what are so called are complex in their nature; they are
made up in their results of various simple feelings, and im-
ply the exercise of more than one simple susceptibility.
It is proper, therefore, to analyze them, and to become ac-
quainted with their parts; otherwise our notions will be
confused, and often erroneous. Still we cannot wholly
lay aside the expressions which use and the wants of men
have introduced; nor is this necessary if we will but take
the pains to explain the true nature of the operations, and
of that ability of the mind which they profess to repre-
sent. If philosophers should undertake to introduce a
whole new system of terms (and the credit is due to Kant.
that there is not wanting a notable instance of this in mod-
ern times), still it would be necessary to employ the old
ones, in order to make them understood by mankind gen-
erally. As a general rule, it is better to employ the com-
mon and acknowledged phraseology, only taking care to
limit and explain it so far as it may be liable to misappre-
hension in consequence of a new and scientific application.
"It looks too much like affectation," says Locke, speak-
ing of these forms of speech," wholly to lay them by;
and philosophy itself, though it likes not a gaudy dress,
yet, when it appears in public, must have so much com-
placency as to be clothed in the ordinary fashion and lan-
guage of the country, so far as it can consist with truth
and perspicuity."
CHAPTER III.
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE.
§ 56. Nature and importance of the senses as a source of knowledge.
It is desirable to keep clearly in the mind the precise
relation of the senses to the origin, progress, and amount
of our knowledge, and to possess, if possible, a correct un-
derstanding of their true value. In a certain sense, the
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE.
85
possession of the bodily organs with which we are fur-
nished is not essential and prerequisite to the possession
of that knowledge which we are accustomed to ascribe
to them. There is nothing unwarrantable and unrea-
sonable in the supposition, that the knowledge which we
now have by their means might have been possessed
without their aid either immediately, or in some way al-
together different. Their use and indispensableness in
the acquisition of a certain portion of what men are per-
mitted to know, is a matter of arrangement and appoint-
ment on the part of our Maker. It is undoubtedly an
evidence of the correctness of this remark, that the Su-
preme Being has a full acquaintance with all those out-
ward objects which present themselves to our notice, with-
out being indebted to any material instrumentality and
mediation. He perceives in another way, or, rather, all
knowledge is inherent in, and originally and unalterably
essential to, himself.
It is not so, as we have reason to believe, with any oth-
er beings, and certainly not with man. Although a great
part of his knowledge relates to material things, he is so
formed, and his constitution is so ordered, that he is whol-
ly dependant for it on the senses.-Deprive him of the
ear, and all nature becomes voiceless and silent; deprive
him of the eye, and the sun and moon withdraw their
light, and the universe becomes darkened like sackcloth;
deprive of him of the sense of touch, and he is then en-
tirely insulated, and as much cut off from all communica-
tion with others as if he were the only being in existence.
§ 57. Of the connexion of the brain with sensation and perception.
It may perhaps be asked, Whether these views are in-
tended to exclude the brain, as having a connexion with
the senses in the results which are here ascribed to them?
And this inquiry leads us to observe (what has been before
alluded to), that the brain is a prominent organ in the ma-
terial part of the process of sensation and of external
ception. The senses evidently cannot be separated from
the nervous system. But the substance which is found in
the nerves, excepting the coat in which it is enveloped,
is the same as in the brain, being of the same soft and
VOL. I.-H
per-
86
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE.
fibrous texture, and in continuity with it. As a general
statement, when the brain has been in any way injured,
the inward sensation, which would otherwise be distinct
on the presentation of an external body, is imperfect.
Also if the nerve be injured, or if its continuity be dis-
turbed by the pressure of a tight ligature, the effect is the
same; a circumstance which goes to confirm the alleged
identity of substance in the two.
The brain, therefore, and whatever of the same sub-
stance is in continuity with it, particularly the nerves, con-
stitute the sensorial organ, which, in the subordinate or-
gans of taste, smell, sight, touch, and hearing, presents
itself under different modifications to external objects.
On this organ, the sensorial, as thus explained, an impres-
sion must be made before there can be sensation and per-
ception.
An impression, for instance, is made on that part of the
sensorial organ called the auditory nerve, and a state of
mind immediately succeeds, which is variously termed, ac-
cording to the view in which it is contemplated, either the
sensation or the perception of sound. An impression is
made by the rays of light on that expansion of the optic
nerve which forms what is called the RETINA of the eye,
and the intellectual principle is immediately brought into
that new position, which is termed visual perception, or a
perception of sight. The hand is impressed on a body
of an uneven and rough surface, and immediately conse-
quent on this application and pressure is that state of mind
which is termed a sensation or perception of roughness.
§ 58. Order in which the senses are to be considered.
In considering those ideas which we become possessed
of by means of the senses, it is natural to begin with that
sense which will cause us the least difficulty in the anal-
ysis of its results; and to proceed to others successively,
as we find them increasing in importance. It may not be
altogether easy to apply this principle with strictness, but
it will answer all the purpose for which it is here introdu-
ced, if we consider the senses in the following order, the
smell, taste, hearing, touch, and sight.
The mind holds a communication with the material
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE.
87
world by means of the sense of smelling. All animal and
vegetable bodies (and the same will probably hold good
of other bodies, though generally in a less degree) are
continually sending out effluvia of great subtilty. These
small particles are rapidly and widely scattered abroad in
the neighbourhood of the body from which they proceed.
No percipient being can come within the circumference
occupied by these continually moving and volatile atoms,
without experiencing effects from it.
§ 59. Of the sense and sensation of smell.
The medium through which we have the sensations and
perceptions of smell, is the organ which is termed the ol-
factory nerve, situated principally in the nostrils, but part-
ly in some continuous cavities. When any odoriferous
particles, sent from external objects, affect this organ, there
is a certain state of mind produced, which varies with the
nature of the odoriferous bodies. But we can no more in-
fer, from the sensation itself merely, that there exists any
necessary connexion between the smell and the external
objects, than that there exists a connexion between the
emotions of joy and sorrow and the same objects. It
might, indeed, be suggested to us by the change in our
mental states, that there must be some cause or antecedent
to the change; but this suggestion would be far from im-
plying the necessity of a corporeal cause.
How, then, does it happen that we are not merely sen-
sible of the particular sensation, but refer it at once to
some external object, to the rose or the honeysuckle? In
answer, it may be remarked, if we had always been des-
titute of the senses of sight and touch, this reference
never could have been made; but, having been furnished
with them by the beneficent Author of our being, we
make this reference by experience. When we have seen
the rose, when we have been near to it and handled it,
we have uniformly been conscious of that state of mind
which we term a sensation of smell. When we have
come into the neighbourhood of the honeysuckle, or when
it has been gathered and presented to us, we have been
reminded of its fragrance. And thus, having learned by
experience that the presence of the odoriferous body is
88
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE.
always attended with the sensations of smell, we form
the habit of attributing the sensations to that body as
their cause.
§ 60. Of perceptions of smell in distinction from sensations.
The mental reference spoken of in the last section is
made with almost as much promptness as if it were ne-
cessarily involved in the sensation itself. It is at least so
rapid, that we find ourselves unable to mark the mind's
progress from the inward feeling to the conception of the
outward cause. Nor is this inability surprising, when
we consider that we have repeated this process, both in
this and in analogous cases, from our earliest childhood.
No object has ever been present to us, capable of opera-
ting on the senses, where this process has not been gone
through. The result of this long-continued and frequent
repetition has been an astonishing quickness in the men-
tal action, so much so that the mind leaps outward with
the rapidity of lightning, to be present with, and to com-
prehend the causes of the feeling within.
This view, it will be seen, helps in illustrating the na-
ture of PERCEPTION, as distinguished from sensation. The
outlines of that distinction have already been given; and
every one of the senses, as well as that now under con-
sideration, will furnish proofs and illustrations of it. Ac-
cordingly, when we are said to perceive the smell, or to
have perceptions of the smell of a body, the rapid pro-
cess which has been described is gone through, and the
three things which were involved in the definition of
Perception already given are supposed to exist: (1.)
The presence of the odoriferous body, and the affection
of its appropriate organ; (2.) The change or sensation
in the mind; and (3.) The reference of the sensation to
the external body as its cause.
§ 61. Of the sense and the sensation of taste.
The tongue, which is covered with numerous nervous
papillæ, forms essentially the organ of taste, although
the papillæ are found scattered in other parts of the cav-
ity of the mouth. The application of any sapid body to
this organ immediately causes in it a change or affection;
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE.
89
and this is at once followed by a mental affection or a
new state of the mind. In this way we have the sensa-
tions and perceptions, to which we give the names sweet,
bitter, sour, acrid, &c.
Having experienced the inward sensation, the affec-
tions of the mind are then referred by us to something
external as their cause. We do not, however, always, nor
even generally, distinguish the qualities which constitute
this cause by separate and appropriate designations; but
express them by the names that are employed for the in-
ternal feeling, viz., sweetness, bitterness, sourness, &c.
This reference of what is internally experienced to its ex-
ternal cause, is very rapidly made; so that we at once say
of one apple it is sweet, and of another it is sour. Still
it is to be kept in mind, that, in point of fact, it is subse-
quent, both in the order of nature and of time, to the
mere sensation; although we may not be able, in conse-
quence of its rapidity, to mark distinctly the progress of
the mental action from the one to the other. As in the
case of smells, which have already been remarked upon,
the reference is the result of our former experience. We
say of one body it is sweet, and of another it is sour,
because we have ever observed that the mental states in-
dicated by those terms have always existed in connexion
with the presence of those bodies.
Whenever, therefore, we say of any bodies that they
are sweet, bitter, sour, or apply any other epithets ex-
pressive of sapid qualities, we mean to be understood to
say, that such bodies are fitted in the constitution of things
to cause in the mind the sensations of sweetness, bitter-
ness, and sourness, or other sensations expressed by de-
nominations of taste. Or, in other words, that they are
the established antecedents of such mental states, as there
is, further than this, no necessary connexion between
them.
§ 62. Design and uses of the senses of smell and taste.
It is not unprofitable to delay oftentimes, and contem-
plate the designs and uses which nature has in view in
her works. Although the sense of smell may appear
(and perhaps with sufficient reason) to be of less impor-
H 2
90
THE SENSES OF SMELL AND TASTE.
tance than the other senses and the other parts of the an-
imal economy, it is not without its ends. There is evi-
dently design in the position of the organ in reference to
the effluvia, which are the direct subjects of its action, it
being placed in the inside of the canal, where the air is
continually forced in and out with every breath we draw
The organ is precisely adapted, both in its nature and its
place, to its appointed medium of communication with
other bodies; nor is this the only mark of design attend-
ing it. This sense is frequently a source of gratification;
and although it is less keen and powerful in men than in
many inferior animals, it still has power enough to afford
much assistance in this respect, that it often warns us of
the presence of objects which experience has found to be
injurious to us. The remark has been justly made, that
the senses both of taste and smell are of great use in dis-
tinguishing bodies that cannot be distinguished by our
other senses. They are peculiarly quick and exact in
their judgments, especially in discerning, before we can
ascertain it in any other way, the beginning and progress
of those changes which all bodies are constantly under-
going.
G
But in both of these senses design and utility are dis-
coverable in reference to food in particular. While the
sense of smell guards the entrance of the canal for breath-
ing, the sense of taste has its station at the entrance of
the alimentary canal. Hence the food which we con-
sume undergoes the scrutiny of both; an intentional and
benevolent provision for protecting men and the animal
creation generally against the introduction of what would
be noxious to them.
CHAPTER IV.
THE SENSE OF HEARING.
§ 63. Organ of the sense of hearing.
FOLLOWING the order which has been proposed, we are
next to consider the sense of HEARING. And, in proceed-
THE SENSE OF HEARING.
91
ing to the consideration of this subject, the remark is a
very obvious one, that we should be unable to hear if we
had not a sense designed for and appropriate to that re-
sult. The air, when put strongly in motion, is distinctly
perceived by the touch; but no impression which it could
make on that sense would cause that internal feeling
which is termed a sensation of sound. Our Creator,
therefore, has taken care that these sensations shall have
their own organ; and it is obviously one of precise and
elaborate workmanship. The ear is designedly planted
in a position where, with the greatest ease, it takes cog-
nizance of whatever is going on in the contiguous atmo-
sphere. When we examine it externally, we not only find
it thus favourably situated, but presenting a hollowed and
capacious surface, so formed as to grasp and gather in
the undulations of air continually floating and in motion
around it. Without, however, delaying to give a minute
description of the internal construction of the ear, which
belongs rather to the physiologist, it will answer our pres-
ent purpose merely to add, that these undulations are
conducted by it through various windings, till they are
brought in a state of concentration, as it were, against
the membrane called the TYMPANUM. It is worthy of no-
tice, that on the internal surface of this membrane (the
drum, as it is popularly called) there is a nerve spread out
in a manner analogous to the expansion of the optic nerve
at the bottom of the eye. Whether this nervous expan-
sion be indispensably necessary to the result or not, it is
certain that a pressure upon or affection of the tympanum
by the external air is followed by a new state of the
mind, known as the sensation or perception of sound.
§ 64. Nature of sonorous bodies, and the medium of the communication
of sound.
When we leave the bodily organ, and, looking outward,
inquire still further for the origin of the sensations which
we have by means of the ear, we find them attributable
ultimately to the presence and influence of the substances
around us. Those undulations of air, which impinge
upon the tympanum, and without which there is no sen-
sation of sound, are caused by the vibrations or oscilla-
92
THE SENSE OF HEARING.
tions of the particles of certain bodies. The material sub-
stances which have this quality are termed sonorous, as
wood, brass, iron, &c.; but it exists in different bodies in
very various degrees.
The quality of sonorousness, therefore, in any substance,
is properly a susceptibility of motion among its own parts.
When it is forcibly struck, this motion exists first in itself,
and is afterward communicated to the circumambient air.
The movement of the air which is thus caused, is again
communicated, like the concentric waves of water agita-
ted by a stone thrown into it, to other portions successive-
ly, till it reaches the ear.
The air, accordingly, is the medium of communication
between the sonorous body and the tympanum of the ear.
It is true that many solid bodies are good conductors of
sound as well as the atmosphere; but as portions of air,
through which the vibratory motion must of course pass,
are in all cases interposed between that organ and the
sounding body, it is not necessary to dwell upon them
here. It is sufficient for our present purpose merely to un-
derstand, that there is in every sounding body, in the first
place, a vibratory motion among its own particles from
some cause or other; that this vibration or undulation is
communicated from the sounding body to the air, and
from one portion of air to another, till it reaches the or-
gan of hearing. Why the internal sensation should at
once follow the completion of this process is another in-
quiry, which we do not undertake to explain. We have
before us the antecedent and the consequent, the affection
of the organ of hearing by an outward impulse, and the
new mental state within; but the reason of this invaria-
ble connexion in two things that are entirely distinct and
different, is a matter beyond our limited comprehension.
§ 65. Varieties of the sensation of sound.
The sensations which we thus become possessed of by
the hearing, are far more numerous than the words and
the forms of speech, having relation to them in different
languages, would lead us to suppose. It will help to il-
lustrate this subject if we recur a moment to the sense of
TASTE. The remark has somewhere been made to this ef-
THE SENSE OF HEARING.
93
fect, and probably with much truth, that if a person were
to examine five hundred different wines, he would hardly
find two of them of precisely the same flavour. The di-
versity is almost endless, although there is no language
which distinguishes each variety of taste by a separate
name. It is the same in respect to the sensations of sound.
These sensations exhibit the greatest variety, although the
differences are too minute to be separated and distinctly
represented by language.
These views will appear the less objectionable, when it
is remembered that sounds differ from each other both in
the tone and in the strength of the tone. It is remarked
by Dr. Reid, that five hundred variations of tone may be
perceived by the ear; also an equal number of variations
in the strength of the tone; making, as he expressly in-
forms us, by a combination of the tones and of the degrees
of strength, more than twenty thousand simple sounds,
differing either in tone or strength.
In a perfect tone, a great many undulations of elastic
air are required, which must be of equal duration and ex-
tent, and follow each other with perfect regularity. Each
undulation is made up of the advance and retreat of innu-
merable particles, whose motions are all uniform in direc-
tion, force, and time. Accordingly, there will be varieties
also and shades of difference in the same tone, arising
from the position and manner of striking the sonorous
body, from the constitution of the elastic medium, and
from the state of the organ of hearing.
Different instruments, such as a flute, a violin, and a
bass viol, may all sound the same tone, and yet be easily
distinguishable. A considerable number of human voices
may sound the same note, and with equal strength, and
yet there will be some difference. The same voice, while
it maintains the proper distinctions of sound, inay yet be
varied many ways by sickness or health, youth or age, and
other alterations in our bodily condition to which we are
incident.
§ 66. Manner in which we learn the place of sounds.
It is a fact worthy of notice in respect to sounds, that
we should not know, previous to all experience on the sub-
94
THE SENSE OF HEARING.
ject, whether a sound came from the right or left, from
above or below, from a smaller or a greater distance.
And this will appear the less surprising, when we remem-
ber, that the undulations of air are always changed from
their original direction by the channels and the windings
of the ear before they strike the tympanum. Abundant
facts confirm this statement.
Dr. Reid mentions, that once, as he was lying in bed,
having been put into a fright, he heard his own heart beat.
He took it to be some one knocking at the door, and arose,
and opened the door oftener than once before he discov-
ered that the sound was in his own breast. Some trav-
eller has related, that when he first heard the roaring of
a lion in a desert wilderness, not seeing the animal, he did
not know on what side to apprehend danger, as the sound
seemed to him to proceed from the ground, and to enclose
a circle, of which he and his companions stood in the
centre.
It is by custom or experience that we learn to distin-
guish the place of things, and, in some measure also, their
nature, by means of their sound. It is thus that we learn
that one noise is in a contiguous room, that another is
above our heads, and another is in the street. And what
seems to be an evidence of this is, that when we are in a
strange place, after all our experience, we very frequently
find ourselves mistaken in these respects.
If a man born deaf were suddenly made to hear, he
would probably consider his first sensations of sound as
originating wholly within himself. But, in process of
time, we learn not only to refer the origin of sounds to a
position above or below, to the right or left, but to con-
nect each particular sound with a particular external
cause, referring one to a bell as its appropriate external
cause, another to a flute, another to a trumpet.
§ 67. Application of these views to the art of ventriloquism.
We are naturally led to make a few remarks here in
explanation of VENTRILOQUISM, a well-known art, by which
persons can so modify their voice as to make it appear
to their audience to proceed from different objects, distan-
ces, and directions. There is no peculiarity of structure
THE SENSE OF HEARING.
95
in ventriloquists, as is often supposed; except that the ca-
pacity of the chest and the lungs is sometimes found to be
greater than usual. It is also true, that the power and
activity of the muscles, connected with the organs of
speech and with the chest and lungs, is considerably in-
creased by frequent exercise. Nevertheless, the great nat-
ural requisite on the part of the ventriloquist is to be able
to mimic sounds; and he will be likely to succeed nearly
in proportion to his skill in this particular. The secret,
then, of his acoustic deceptions, supposing him to be ca-
pable of exact imitation, will be sufficiently understood by
referring to the statement maintained in the preceding
section, viz., That, previous to experience, we are unable
to refer sounds to any particular external cause.
The sound itself never gives us any direct and imme-
diate indication of the place, or distance, or direction of
the sonorous body. It is only by experience, it is only by
the association of place with sound, that the latter be-
comes an indication of the former. Now supposing the
ventriloquist to possess a delicate ear, which is implied in
his ability to mimic sounds, he soon learns, by careful ob-
servation, the difference which change of place causes in
the same sound. Having in this way ascertained the par-
ticular modulations of sound, which, in accordance with
the experience of men and the associations they have
formed, are appropriate to any particular distances, direc-
tion, or object, it is evident, whenever he exactly or very
nearly imitates such modulations, that the sounds must ap-
pear to his audience to come from such distance, object,
or direction.
One part of the art, however, consists in controlling the
attention of persons present, and in directing that atten-
tion to some particular place by a remark, motion, or some
other method. If, for instance, the sound is to come from
under a tumbler or hat, the performer finds it important.
to have their attention directed to that particular object,
which affords him an opportunity for the exercise of all
those associations which they have formed with any sound
coming from a very confined place. All, then, that re-
mains for him to do, is to give his voice a dull modulation
and on a low key, which we know from our experience
96
THE SENSE OF HEARING.
to be the character of confined sounds. Then there seems
to be a voice speaking under a tumbler or hat; and if
any person should, either intentionally or unintentionally,
lift these articles up, the ventriloquist immediately utters
himself more distinctly and freely, like a person who has
been very much confined on being readmitted into the
free and open air. It is also necessary, when his face is
towards his auditors, that he should make use chiefly of
the muscles of the throat; an outward and visible moving
of the lips would much weaken the deception.
.
68. Uses of hearing and its connexion with oral language.
Although, as in the cases just mentioned, the artifices
of men may sometimes impose upon this organ and lead
its decisions astray, it is one, in the ordinary calls for its
exercise, of exceeding value. One of the distinguished
benefits of the sense of hearing is, that, in consequence
of it, we are enabled to hold intercourse with each other
by means of spoken language, without which the ad-
vancement of the human mind must have inevitably been
very limited.
It is by means of speech that we express
our feelings to the little company of our neighbours and
our own family; and without it this pleasant and cheer-
ing intercourse must be almost entirely suspended. Not
limited in its beneficial results to families and neighbour-
hoods, it has been the medium of the transmission of
thought from age to age, from generation to generation.
So that in one age has been concentrated the result of
all the researches, the combination of the wisdom of all
the preceding.
"There is, without all doubt," it has been observed, "a
chain of the thoughts of human kind, from the origin of
the world down to the moment at which we exist, a chain
not less universal than that of the generation of every
being that lives. Ages have exerted their influence on
ages; nations on nations; truths on errors; errors on
truths."
Whether oral language was an original invention of
man, or whether, in the first instance, it was a power be-
stowed upon him by his Creator and coeval with the hu-
man race, the ear must, in either case, have been the pri-
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
97
mary recipient. The faculty of speech, so necessary and
so beneficial, could not have existed, either by invention
or by communication, without the sense of hearing. And
hence it happens, that all those who are born deaf are
without speech. Their inability to speak is not in gener-
al the result of a defect in the organs of speech, but be-
cause they cannot hear others, and thus imitate the sounds
they utter.
CHAPTER V.
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
§ 69. Of the sense of touch and its sensations in general.
We are next to consider the sense of TOUCH.
The prin-
cipal organ of this sense is the hand, although it is not
limited to that part of our frame, but is diffused over the
whole body. The hand principally arrests our attention.
as the organ of this sense, because, being furnished with
various articulations, it is easily moveable by the muscles,
and can readily adapt itself to the various changes of
form in the objects to which it is applied.
The senses which have hitherto been examined, are
more simple and uniform in their results than that of the
touch. By the ear we merely possess that sensation which
we denominate hearing; we have the knowledge of
sounds, and that is all. By the palate we acquire a
knowledge of tastes; and by the sense of smelling we
become acquainted with the odours of bodies. The
knowledge which is directly acquired by all these senses,
is limited to the qualities which have been mentioned.
By the sense of touch, on the contrary, we become ac-
quainted, not with one merely, but with a variety of qual-
ities or attributes, such as the following: heat and cold,
hardness and softness, roughness and smoothness, resist-
ance, extension, and figure; and, in particular, it is in the
application of this sense that we find an occasion furnish-
ed for the origin of the antecedent and more general no-
tion of externality.
VOL. I-I
98
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
§ 70. Idea of externality suggested in connexion with the touch.
If man were possessed of the sense of smell alone, it
would be found that the earliest elements of his knowl-
edge consisted exclusively in sensations of odours. Ac-
cording, however, as these sensations were agreeable or
disagreeable, he would acquire the additional ideas of
pleasure and pain. And, having experienced pleasure
and pain, we may suppose that this would subsequently
give rise both to the feelings and the abstract conceptions
of desire and aversion. But if he had no other sense, all
these feelings would seem to him to be internal, not only
in their experience, but their origin; in other words, to be
mere emanations from the soul itself; and he would be
incapable of referring them to an external cause. -If he
were possessed of the sense of hearing alone, the result
would be similar; his existence would then seem to con-
sist essentially of sounds, as in the other case it would be
made up of odours; nor, indeed, by the aid of merely
both these senses combined, would he be able to form an
idea of externality or outness.
K
But this idea is a most important one; it is the connect-
ing thought, which introduces us to an acquaintance with
a new form of existence, different from that interior exist-
ence which we variously call by the names spirit, mind,
or soul. This idea first arises in the mind, although it is
not directly addressed to that sense, by means of the touch.
There is no question that the other senses might of
themselves furnish a basis of considerable extent for the
mental action. By means of their aid alone, such a de-
velopement of mind might take place, that we could per
ceive, think, compare, abstract, reason, and will. And
although, under such circumstances, everything would
seem to us to be internal, yet we should probably find the
mental action unembarrassed and easy, and a source of
pleasure. But, after a time, we decide to move the limbs
in a particular direction, and to press the hand or some
other part of the body through some hard and resisting
substance. It is when we attempt to do anything of this
kind, which calls the sense of touch into action, that we
find the wonted series of thoughts disturbed, the desire.
checked, and the volition counteracted. It is probably at
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
99
S
this precise position of the mind, with scarcely the inter-
val of a momentary pause of wonder, that there arises
vividly in the soul a new perception, a new thought,
which we call the idea of externality or outness. It is
the sense of touch which impinges upon the obstacle that
stands in our way; and no other sense admits of this pe-
culiar application. It is thus the means of partially dis-
turbing the previous connexion and tendency of thought,
and of giving occasion for the rise of the new idea which
is under consideration. And this idea, called into exist-
ence under these circumstances, becomes associated with
all those notions which we subsequently form of matter.—
It
may be of some importance to add here, that we shall
have occasion to refer to this idea again under the head
of Original Suggestion. It is to be remembered, that ex-
ternality is not a direct object of the touch, as extension
and hardness are, but that the tactual sense simply fur-
nishes the occasion on which it is formed.
§ 71. Origin of the notion of extension, and of form or figure.
The idea of EXTENSION has its origin by means of the
sense of touch. When the touch is applied to bodies,
where in the intermediate parts there is a continuity of the
same substance, we necessarily form that notion. It is
not, however, to be imagined that Extension, as it exists
outwardly, and the corresponding notion in the mind, ac-
tually resemble each other. So far from any imitation and
copying from one to the other, or resemblance in any way,
there is a radical and utter diversity. As to outward, ma-
terial extension, it is not necessary to attend to it here;
our business at present is with the corresponding inward
feeling. Nor will it be necessary to delay even upon that;
the more we multiply words upon it, the more obscure it
becomes. As it is a simple idea, we cannot resolve it into
others, and in that way make it clearer by defining it.
We must refer in this case, as in others like it, to each
one's personal experience. It will be better understood
in that way than by any form of words.
The notion of extension is intimately connected with,
and may be considered in some sort the foundation of,
that of the FORM or figure of bodies.-Dr. Brown some-
100
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
where calls the Form of bodies their relation to each
other in space.
This is thought to afford matter for re-
flection; but when we consider that SPACE, whatever it
may be objectively or outwardly, exists in the mind as a
simple notion, and that the particular relation here spo-
ken of is not pointed out, the remark may not be found to
throw much light on the subject. Still we do not suppose
that any one is ignorant of what FORM is; men must be sup-
posed to know that, if they are thought to know anything.
All that is meant to be asserted here is, that the idea of
extension is antecedent, in the order of nature, to that of
form; and that the latter could not exist without the oth-
er; but that both, nevertheless, are simple, and both are
to be ascribed to the sense of touch.
72. On the sensations of heat and cold.
Among the states of mind which are usually classed
with the intimations of the sense under consideration, are
those which are connected with changes in the tempera-
ture of our bodies. Some writers, it is true, have been
inclined to dissent from this arrangement, and have haz-
arded an opinion that they ought not to be ascribed to the
sense of TOUCH; but Dr. Reid, on the contrary, who gave
to our sensations the most careful and patient attention,
has decidedly assigned to them this origin. Among other
remarks, he has expressed himself on this subject to this
effect.
"The words HEAT and COLD," he remarks (Inquiry into
the Human Mind, chap. v.)," have each of them two sig-
nifications; they sometimes signify certain sensations of
the mind, which can have no existence when they are not
felt, nor can exist anywhere but in the mind or sentient
being; but more frequently they signify a quality in bod-
ies, which, by the laws of nature, occasions the sensations
of heat and cold in us; a quality which, though connected
by custom so closely with the sensation that we cannot
without difficulty separate them, yet hath not the least
resemblance to it, and may continue to exist when there
is no sensation at all.
"The sensations of heat and cold are perfectly known,
for they neither are, nor can be, anything else than what
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
101
we feel them to be; but the qualities in bodies which
we call heat and cold are unknown. They are only con-
ceived by us as unknown causes or occasions of the sen-
sations to which we give the same names. But, though
common sense says nothing of the nature of the qualities,
it plainly dictates the existence of them; and to deny
that there can be heat and cold when they are not felt,
is an absurdity too gross to merit confutation. For what
could be more absurd than to say that the thermometer
cannot rise or fall unless some person be present, or that
the coast of Guinea would be as cold as Nova Zembla
if it had no inhabitants?
"It is the business of philosophers to investigate, by
proper experiments and induction, what heat and cold
are in bodies. And whether they make heat a particular
element diffused through nature, and accumulated in the
heated body, or whether they make it a certain vibration
of the parts of the heated body; whether they deter-
mine that heat and cold are contrary qualities, as the sen-
sations undoubtedly are contrary, or that heat only is a
quality, and cold its privation; these questions are within
the province of philosophy; for common sense says no-
thing on the one side or the other.
"But, whatever be the nature of that quality in bodies
which we call heat, we certainly know this, that it cannot
in the least resemble the sensation of heat. It is no less
absurd to suppose a likeness between the sensation and
the quality, than it would be to suppose that the pain of
the gout resembles a square or a triangle. The simplest
man that hath common sense does not imagine the sen-
sation of heat, or anything that resembles that sensation,
to be in the fire. He only imagines that there is some-
thing in the fire which makes him and other sentient be-
ings feel heat. Yet as the name of heat, in common lan-
guage, more frequently and more properly signifies this
unknown something in the fire than the sensation occa-
sioned by it, he justly laughs at the philosopher who de-
nies that there is any heat in the fire, and thinks that he
speaks contrary to common sense."
12
102
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
§ 73. On the sensations of hardness and softness.
"Let us next consider," continues the same writer,
HARDNESS AND SOFTNESS; by which words we always un-
derstand real properties or qualities of bodies, of which
we have a distinct conception.
"When the parts of a body adhere so firmly that it
cannot easily be made to change its figure, we call it hard ;
when its parts are easily displaced, we call it soft. This
is the notion which all mankind have of hardness and
softness they are neither sensations nor like any sensa-
tion; they were real qualities before they were perceived
by touch, and continue to be so when they are not per-
ceived for if any man will affirm that diamonds were
not hard until they were handled, who would reason with
him?
66
"There is, no doubt, a sensation by which we perceive
a body to be hard or soft. This sensation of hardness
may easily be had by pressing one's hand against a ta-
ble, and attending to the feeling that ensues, setting
aside, as much as possible, all thoughts of the table and
its qualities, or of any external thing. But it is one thing
to have the sensation, and another to attend to it and make
it a distinct object of reflection. The first is very easy;
the last, in most cases, extremely difficult.
"We are so accustomed to use the sensation as a sign,
and to pass immediately to the hardness signified, that,
as far as appears, it was never made an object of thought,
either by the vulgar or by philosophers; nor has it a name
in any language. There is no sensation more distinct or
more frequent; yet it is never attended to, but passes
through the mind instantaneously, and serves only to in-
troduce that quality in bodies which, by a law of our con-
stitution, it suggests.
"There are, indeed, some cases, wherein it is no diffi-
cult matter to attend to the sensation occasioned by the
hardness of a body; for instance, when it is so violent as
to occasion considerable pain: then nature calls upon us
to attend to it; and then we acknowledge that it is a
mere sensation, and can only be in a sentient being. If a
man runs his head with violence against a pillar, I appeal
to him whether the pain he feels resembles the hardness
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
103
of the stone; or if he can conceive anything like what
he feels to be in an inanimate piece of inatter.
"The attention of the mind is here entirely turned to-
wards the painful feeling; and, to speak in the common
language of mankind, he feels nothing in the stone, but
feels a violent pain in his head. It is quite otherwise
when he leans his head gently against the pillar; for then
he will tell you that he feels nothing in his head, but feels
hardness in the stone. Hath he not a sensation in this
case as well as in the other? Undoubtedly he hath; but
it is a sensation which nature intended only as a sign of
something in the stone; and, accordingly, he instantly
fixes his attention upon the thing signified; and cannot,
without great difficulty, attend so much to the sensation as
to be persuaded that there is any such thing distinct from
the hardness it signifies.
66
But, however difficult it may be to attend to this fu-
gitive sensation, to stop its rapid progress, and to disjoin
it from the external quality of hardness, in whose shadow
it is apt immediately to hide itself: this is what a philos-
opher by pains and practice must attain, otherwise it will
be impossible for him to reason justly on this subject, or
even to understand what is here advanced. For the last
appeal, in subjects of this nature, must be to what a man
feels and perceives in his own mind.”
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◊ 74. Of certain indefinite feelings sometimes ascribed to the touch.
In connexion with these views on the sensations of
touch, it is proper to remark, that certain feelings have
been ascribed to that sense which are probably of a char-
acter too indefinite to admit of a positive and undoubted
classification. Although they clearly have their place in
the general arrangement which has been laid down, with
the states of mind which we are now considering; that
is to say, are rather of an external and material, than of
an internal origin; still they do not so evidently admit
of an assignment to a particular sense. Those sensations
to which we now refer (if it be proper to use that term
in application to them) appear to have their origin in the
human system considered as a whole, made up of bones,
flesh, muscles, the senses, &c., rather than to be suscepti-
104
THE SENSE OF TOUCH.
ble of being traced to any particular part. Of this de-
scription are the feelings expressed by the terms uneasi-
ness, weariness, weakness, sickness, and those of an op-
posite character, as ease, hilarity, health, vigour, &c.
§ 75. Relation between the sensation and what is outwardly signified.
We here return a moment to the subject of the relation
between the internal sensation and the outward object;
and again repeat that the mental state and the corre-
sponding outward object are altogether diverse. This
view holds good in the case of the secondary, as well
as of the primary qualities of matter.
Whether we
speak of extension, or resistance, or heat, or colour, or
roughness, there are, in all cases alike, two things, the in-
ternal affection and the outward quality; but they are ut-
terly distinct, totally without likeness to each other. But
how it happens that one thing, which is totally different.
from another, can nevertheless give us a knowledge of
that from which it differs, it would be a waste of time to
attempt to explain. Our knowledge is undoubtedly lim-
ited to the mere fact.
This is one of those difficult but decisive points in MEN-
TAL PHILOSOPHY, of which it is essential to possess a pre-
cise and correct understanding. The letters which cover
over the pages of a book are a very different thing from
the thought, and the combinations of thought, which they
stand for. The accountant's columns of numerals are not
identical with the quantities and their relations which
they represent. And so in regard to the mind; all its acts
are of one kind, and what they stand for is of another.
The mind, in all its feelings and operations, is governed
by its own laws, and characterizes its efforts by the essen-
tial elements of its own nature. Nothing which is seen
or heard, nothing which is the subject of taste, or touch,
or any other sense, nothing material which can be ima-
gined to exist in any place or in any form, can furnish the
least positive disclosure either of its intrinsic nature or of
the mode of its action.
What, then, is the relation between the sensation and
the outward object, between the perception and the thing
perceived? Evidently that of the sign and the thing sig-
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
105
nified. And as in a multitude of cases, the sign may give
a knowledge of its object, without any other grounds of
such knowledge than mere institution or appointment, so
it is in this. The mind, maintaining its appropriate ac-
tion, and utterly rejecting the intervention of all images
and visible representations, except what are outward and
material, and totally distinct from itself both in place and
nature, is, notwithstanding, susceptible of the knowledge
of things exterior, and can form an acquaintance with the
universe of matter.
A misapprehension in this respect, the mistaken suppo-
sition of the mind's either receiving actual filmy images
from external objects, or being itself transformed into the
likeness of such images, has been, in times past, the source
of much confusion and contention. But that opinion, how-
ever prevalent it may have been once, is mere hypothesis;
it has not the slightest well-founded evidence in its favour.
Still we can reject it wholly from our belief, and from all
influence on our belief, only by guarding against early as-
sociations, by a rigid self-inspection, and by carefully sep-
arating the material and the immaterial, the qualities of
mind and of matter.
CHAPTER VI.
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
§ 76. Of the organ of sight, and the uses or benefits of that sense.
Of those instruments of external perception with which
a benevolent Providence has favoured us, a high rank
must be given to the sense of seeing. If we were re-
stricted in the process of acquiring knowledge to the in-
formations of the touch merely, how many embarrassments
would attend our progress, and how slow it would prove!
Having never possessed sight, it would be many years be-
fore the most acute and active person could form an idea
of a mountain, or even of a large edifice. But by the ad-
ditional help of the sense of seeing, he not only observes
G
106
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
1
the figure of large buildings, but is in a moment possess-
ed of all the beauties of a wide and variegated landscape.
The organ of this sense is the eye. On a slight exam-
ination, the eye is found to be a sort of telescope, having its
distinct parts, and discovering throughout the most exqui-
site construction. The medium on which this organ acts
are rays of light, everywhere diffused, and always ad-
vancing, if they meet with no opposition, in direct lines.
The eye, like all the other senses, not only receives exter-
nally the medium on which it acts, but carries the rays of
light into itself; and, on principles purely scientific, re-
fracts and combines them anew.
It does not, however, fall within our plan to give a mi-
nute description of the eye, which belongs rather to the
physiologist; but such a description, with the statement of
the uses of the different parts of the organ, must be to a
candid and reflecting mind a most powerful argument in
proof of the existence and goodness of the Supreme Be-
ing. How wonderful, among other things, is the adap-
tation of the rays of light to the eye! If these rays were
not of a texture extremely small, they would cause much
pain to the organ of vision, into which they so rapidly
pass. If they were not capable of exciting within us the
sensations of colour, we should be deprived of much of that
high satisfaction which we now take in beholding sur-
rounding objects; showing forth, wherever they are to be
found, the greatest variety and the utmost richness of tints.
§ 77. Statement of the mode or process in visual perception.
In the process of vision, the rays of light, coming from
various objects and in various directions, strike, in the
first place, on the pellucid or transparent part of the ball
of the eye.
If they were to continue passing on precisely in the
same direction, they would produce merely one mingled
and indistinct expanse of colour. In their progress, how-
ever, through the crystalline humour, they are refracted
or bent from their former direction, and are distributed to
certain focal points on the retina, which is a white, fibrous
expansion of the optic nerve.
The rays of light, coming from objects in the field of
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
107
vision, whether it be more or less extensive, as soon as
they have been distributed on their distinct portions of the
retina, and have formed an image there, are immediately
followed by the sensation or perception which is termed
sight. The image which is thus pictured on the retina,
is the last step which we are able to designate in the ma-
terial part of the process in visual perception; the mental
state follows, but it is not in our power to trace, even in
the smallest degree, any physical connexion between the
optical image and the corresponding state of the mind.—
All that we can say in this case is, that we suppose them
to hold to each other the relation of antecedent and con-
sequent by an ultimate law of our constitution.
77. Of the original and acquired perceptions of sight.
In speaking of those sensations and perceptions, the or-
igin of which is generally attributed to the sense of sight,
it is necessary to make a distinction between those which
are ORIGINAL and those which are ACQUIRED. Nothing is
properly original with the sense of sight but the sensa-
tions of colour, such as red, blue, yellow. These sensa-
tions (or perceptions, as they are otherwise called, when
the internal feeling is combined with a reference to the
external cause) are exceedingly numerous.
In this re-
spect, the intimations of the sense of sight stand on the
same footing with those of taste and hearing; although
distinctive names, in consequence of the difficulty of accu-
rately separating and drawing the line between each, are
given only in a few cases. All the sensations of colour
are original with the sight; and are not to be ascribed to
any other sense.
A part, however, of that knowledge, which we attrib-
ute to the sight, and which has the appearance of being
immediate and original in that sense, is not so. Some of
its alleged perceptions are properly the results of sensa~
tions, combined not only with the usual reference to an
external cause, but with various other acts of the judg-
ment. In some cases the combination of the acts of the
judgment with the visual sensation is carried so far, that
there is a sort of transfer to the sight of the knowledge
which has been obtained from some other source. And
108
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
not unfrequently, in consequence of a long and tenacious
association, we are apt to look upon the knowledge thus
acquired as truly original in the seeing power. This will
suffice, perhaps, as a statement of the general fact, while
the brief examination of a few instances will help to the
more thorough understanding of those acquired percep-
tions of the sight which are here referred to.
§ 79. The idea of extension not originally from sight.
It is well known that there is nothing more common
than for a person to say that he sees the length or breadth
of any external object; that he sees its extent, &c.
These expressions appear to imply (and undoubtedly are
so understood) that extension is a direct object of sight.
There is no question that such is the common sentiment,
viz., that the outlines and surface which bodies perma-
nently expand and present to the view, are truly seen.
An opinion different from this might even incur the charge
of great absurdity.
But, properly, the notion of extension, as we have al-
ready seen, has its origin in the sense of touch. Being a
simple and elementary thought, it is not susceptible of
definition; nor, when we consider extension as existing
outwardly and materially, can we make it a matter of
description without running into the confusion of using
synonymous words. But, whatever it is (and certainly
there can be neither ignorance nor disagreement on that
point, however much language may fail of conveying our
ideas), the knowledge of it is not to be ascribed originally
to the sight.
The notion of extension is closely connected with ex-
ternality. It is not possible to form the idea of extension
from mere consciousness, or a reflection on what takes
place within us. But making a muscular effort, and thus
applying the touch to some resisting body, we first have
the notion of outness; and either from the same applica-
tion of that sense, or when we have repeated it continu-
ously on the same surface, we have the additional notion
of its being extended or spread out. If a man were fixed
immoveably in one place, capable of smelling, tasting,
hearing, and seeing, but without tactual impressions ori-
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
109
ginating from a resisting body, he would never possess a
knowledge of either. Having first gained that knowl-
ledge from the touch in the way just mentioned, he learns
in time what appearance extended bodies (which are, of
course, coloured bodies) make to the eye. At a very ear-
ly period, having ascertained that all coloured bodies are
spread out or extended, he invariably associates the idea of
extension with that coloured appearance. Hence he vir-
tually and practically transfers the knowledge obtained
by one sense to another; and even, after a time, imagines
extension to be a direct object of sight, when, in fact,
what is seen is only a sign of it, and merely suggests it.
An affection of the sense of touch is the true and original
occasion of the origin of this notion; and it becomes an
idea of sight only by acquisition or transference.
§ 80. Of the knowledge of the figure of bodies by the sight.
Views similar to those which have been already ad-
vanced will evidently apply to the figure of bodies. We
acquire a knowledge of the figure or form of bodies ori-
ginally by the sense of touch. But it cannot be doubted
that this knowledge is often confidently attributed to the
sense of sight as well as the touch. Although there is
reason to believe that men labour under a mistake in this,
it is not strange, when we trace back our mental history
to its earlier periods, that such a misapprehension should
exist.
A solid body presents to the eye nothing but a certain
disposition of colours and light. We may imagine our-
selves to see the prominences or cavities in such bodies,
when in truth we see only the light or the shade occa-
sioned by them. This light and shade, however, we
learn by experience to consider as the sign of a certain sol-
id figure. A proof of the truth of this statement is, that
a painter, by carefully imitating the distribution of light
and shade which he sees in objects, will make his work
very naturally and exactly represent not only the general
outline of a body, but its prominences, depressions, and
other irregularities. And yet his delineation, which, by
the distribution of light and shade, gives such various rep-
resentations, is on a smooth and plain surface.
VOL. I.-K
110
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
It was a problem submitted by Mr. Molyneux to Mr.
Locke, whether a blind man, who has learned the differ-
ence between a cube and a sphere by the touch, can, on
being suddenly restored to sight, distinguish between them,
and tell which is the sphere and which is the cube, by
the aid of what may be called his new sense merely.
And the answer of Mr. Locke was, in agreement with
the opinion of Molyneux himself, that he cannot. The
blind man knows what impressions the cube and sphere
make on the organ of touch, and by that sense is able to
distinguish between them; but, as he is ignorant what
impression they will make on the organ of sight, he is
not able, by the latter sense alone, to tell which is the
round body and which is the cubic.
It was remarked, that solid bodies present to the eye
nothing but a certain disposition of light and colours.—It
seems to follow from this, that the first idea which will be
conveyed to the mind on seeing a globe, will be that of
a circle on a plain surface, but variously shadowed with
different degrees of light. This imperfect idea is correct-
ed in this way. Combining the suggestions of the sense of
touch with those of sight, we learn by greater experience
what kind of appearance solid convex bodies will make
to us. That appearance becomes to the mind the sign of
the presence of a globe; so that we have an idea of a
round body by a very rapid mental correction, whereas
the notion first conveyed to the mind is truly that of a
plain, circular surface, on which there is a variety in the
dispositions of light and shade. It is an evidence of the
correctness of this statement, that in paintings, plain sur-
faces, variously shaded, represent convex bodies, and with
great truth and exactness.
It appears, then, that extension and figure are origin-
ally perceived, not by sight, but by touch. We do not
judge of them by sight until we have learned by our ex-
perience that certain visible appearances always accom-
pany and signify the existence of extension and of figure.
This knowledge we acquire at a very early period in life;
so much so, that we lose, in a great measure, the memory
both of its commencement and
progress.
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
111
§ 81. Measurements of magnitude by the eye.
What has been said naturally leads us to the consider-
ation of MAGNITUDE. This is a general term for Extension,
when we conceive of it not only as limited or bounded,
but as related to and compared with other objects. Al-
though we make use of the eye in judging of it, it is to
be kept in mind, that the knowledge of magnitude is not
an original intimation of the sight, but is at first acquired
by the aid of touch. So well known is this, that it has
been common to consider Magnitude under the two heads
of tangible or real, and visible or apparent; the tangible
magnitude being always the same, but the visible varying
with the distance of the object. A man of six feet stat-
ure is always that height, whether he be a mile distant,
or half a mile, or near at hand; the change of place
making no change in his real or tangible magnitude. But
the visible or apparent magnitude of this man may be six
feet or two feet, as we view him present with us and im-
mediately in our neighbourhood, or at two miles' dis-
tance; for his magnitude appears to our eye greater or
less, according as he is more or less removed.
66
In support of the doctrine that the knowledge of mag-
nitude is not an original intimation of the sight, but is at
first acquired by the aid of touch, we may remark, that,
in judging of magnitude by the sight, we are much in-
fluenced not merely by the visual perception, but particu-
larly by comparison with other objects, the size of which
is known or supposed to be known. "I remember once,"
says Dr. Abercrombie (Intellec. Powers, part ii., sect. 1),
having occasion to pass along Ludgate Hill, when the
great door of St. Paul's was open, and several persons
were standing in it. They appeared to be very little
children; but, on coming up to them, were found to be
full-grown persons. In the mental process which here
took place, the door had been assumed as a known mag-
nitude, and the other objects judged of by it. Had I at-
tended to the door being much larger than any door that
one is in the habit of seeing, the mind would have made
allowance for the apparent size of the persons; and, on
the other hand, had these been known to be full-grown
persons, a judgment would have been formed of the size
of the door."
112
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
}
Among the multitude of instances which might be ad-
duced in illustration of the doctrine under notice, the fol-
lowing statement, to be found in the seventh number of
the Edinburgh Journal of Science, is a somewhat striking
one. In examining a dioramic representation of the in-
side of Rochester Cathedral, which produced the finest ef-
fect, from the entire exclusion of all extraneous light and
of all objects, excepting those on the picture itself, the
writer of the statement referred to was struck with an ap-
pearance of distortion in the perspective, which he ascri-
bed to the canvass not hanging vertically. Upon men-
tioning this to the gentleman who exhibited the picture,
he offered to walk in front of it, and strike its surface with
the palm of his hand, to show that the canvass was free-
ly suspended. Upon doing this, a very remarkable de-
ception, or illusion rather, took place. As his hand pass-
ed along, it gradually became larger and larger till it
reached the middle, when it became enormously large.
It then diminished till it reached the other end of the
canvass.
As the hand moved towards the middle of the picture,
it touched the parts of the picture more and more remote
from the eye of the observer; and, consequently, the
mind referred the hand and the object in contact with it
to the same remote distance; and, consequently, gave it
a fictitious magnitude, corresponding with the visible figure
it presented, combined with the supposition of its being
placed at a distance. (See Edin. Journ. of Science, No.
vii., p. 90, and Art. Science, Edin. Encyc.)
§ 82. Of objects seen in the mist, and of the sun and moon in the horizon.
In accordance with the above-mentioned principle, it
happens, that objects seen by a person in a mist seem lar-
ger than life. Their faint appearance rapidly conveys to
the mind the idea of being considerably removed, al-
though they are actually near to us. And the mind im-
mediately draws the conclusion (so rapidly as to seem a
simple and original perception), that the object, having
the same visible or apparent magnitude, and yet supposed
to be at a considerable distance, is greater than other ob-
jects of the same class. So that it is chiefly the view of
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
113
the mind, a law or habit of the intellect, which in this
particular case gives a fictitious expansion to bodies; al-
though it is possible that the result may in part be attrib-
uted to a difference in the refraction of the rays of light,
caused by their passing through a denser and less uniform
medium than usual.
These remarks naturally remind us of the well-known
fact, that the sun and moon seem larger in the horizon
than in the meridian. A number of reasons may be giv-
en for this appearance.—(1.) The horizon may seem more
distant than the zenith, in consequence of intervening ob-
jects. We measure the distance of objects in part by
means of those that are scattered along between, and any
expanse of surface, where there are no such intervening
objects, appears to us of less extent than it actually is.
Now if the rays of light form precisely the same image
in the eye, but the source of them is supposed to be fur-
ther off in the horizon than in the zenith, such have been
our mental habits, that the object in the horizon will prob-
ably appear the largest.-(2.) Another reason, which is
sometimes assigned, of the enlarged appearance of the
sun and moon in the horizon is, that the rays from them
fall on the body of the atmosphere obliquely, and, of
course, are reflected downward towards the beholder, and
subtend a larger angle at his eye. Hence, as we always
see objects in the direction of the ray just before it enters
the
eye, if we follow the rays back in the precise direc-
tion of their approach, they will present to the eye the
outlines of a larger object as their source than they would
if they had not been refracted.-When the atmosphere is
not clear, but unusual masses of vapour are accumulated
in it, whether immediately around us or anywhere else in
the direction of the rays, the refraction is increased, and
the object is proportionally enlarged. This circumstance
helps to explain the fact of the enlargement not being
uniform, but sometimes greater and at others less.-(3.)
Our estimate of the size of the sun and moon is also af-
fected by the simultaneous perception of other objects of
known magnitude, which happen to be in the same direc-
tion. The setting sun, for instance, when it is seen through
distant woods, appears much enlarged. The woods, in
K2
114
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
.
consequence of their distance, subtend but a small angle
at the eye; but, being objects of known magnitude, they
appear enlarged and nearly of their natural size in our
conception of them. And as the sun fills a larger space
in our eye than the separate trees which fall within its
disk, it experiences in our conception an enlargement, pre-
cisely corresponding with the imagined or conceptive en-
largement of the objects which are encircled by its rays.
Just as in the case of a balloon, which, at a great eleva-
tion, crosses the disk of the sun or moon. The balloon
is an object of known size and of great size; but, in fact,
when seen at a great elevation, it is materially and visual-
ly a mere speck, although much enlarged mentally. Ac-
cordingly, when it passes over the disk of the sun or
moon, those bodies will appear greatly enlarged, so as to
correspond with our previous conceptions of the size of
the body which their rays at that time encircle.-(The
reader will find this subject more fully explained in Dr.
Arnott's Elements of Physics, vol. i.)
§ 83. Of the estimation of distances by sight.
We are next led to the consideration of distances as
made known and ascertained by the sight. By the dis-
tance of objects, when we use the term in reference to
ourselves, we mean the space which is interposed between
those objects and our own position. It might be objected,
that space interposed is only a synonymous expression for
the thing to be defined. Nevertheless, no one can be
supposed to be ignorant of what is meant. Even blind
men have a notion of distance, and can measure it by the
touch, or by walking forward until they meet the distant
object.
The perception of distance by the sight is an acquired
and not an original perception, although the latter was
universally supposed to be the fact until comparatively a
recent period.
All objects in the first instance appear to touch the eye;
but our experience has corrected so many of the repre-
sentations of the senses before the period which we are
yet able to retrace by the memory, that we cannot prove
this by a reference to our own childhood and infancy. It

THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
115
per-
appears, however, from the statement of the cases of
sons born blind on the sudden restoration of their sight.-
"When he first saw," says Cheselden, the anatomist, when
giving an account of a young man whom he had restored
to sight by couching for the cataract," he was so far from
making any judgment about distance, that he thought all
objects touched his eye, as he expressed it, as what he felt
did his skin; and thought no objects so agreeable as those
which were smooth and regular, although he could form
no judgment of their shape, or guess what it was in any
object that was pleasing to him."
This anatomist has further informed us, that he has
brought to sight several others, who had no remembrance
of ever having seen; and that they all gave the same
account of their learning to see, as they called it, as the
young man already mentioned, although not in so many
particulars; and that they all had this in common, that,
having never had occasion to move their eyes, they knew
not how to do it, and, at first, could not at all direct them
to a particular object; but in time they acquired that fac-
ulty, though by slow degrees.*
Blind persons, when at first restored to sight, are un-
able to estimate the distance of objects by that sense; but
soon observing that certain changes in the visible appear-
ance of bodies always accompany a change of distance,
they fall upon a method of estimating distance by the vis-
ible appearance. And it would no doubt be found, if it
could be particularly examined into, that all mankind
come to possess the power of estimating the distances of
objects by sight in the same way. When a body is re-
moved from us and placed at a considerable distance, it
becomes smaller in its visible appearance, its colours are
less lively, and its outlines less distinct; and we may ex-
* Some doubts have been raised from time to time of the correctness
of Cheselden's experiments and inquiries here referred to. Fortunately,
Mr. Stewart has taken up the subject with his accustomed caution and
candour in his Account of James Mitchell, a boy born deaf and blind.
He shows to ample satisfaction, in a note near the commencement of
that Narration, that the facts which have been brought forward in oppo-
sition to Cheselden may be satisfactorily explained, without any impeach-
ment of the correctness of his statements or the justness of his conclu-
sions from them.-See additional confirmations of this subject in the life
of Caspar Hauser.
116
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
pect to find various intermediate objects, more or fewer in
number corresponding with the increase of the distance,
showing themselves between the receding object and the
spectator. And hence it is that a certain visible appear-
ance comes to be the sign of a certain distance.
Historical and landscape painters are enabled to turn
these facts to great account in their delineations. By
means of dimness of colour, indistinctness of outline, and
the partial interposition of other objects, they are enabled
apparently to throw back, at a very considerable distance.
from the eye, those objects which they wish to appear re-
mote. While other objects, that are intended to appear
near, are painted vivid in colour, large in size, distinct in
outline, and are separated from the eye of the spectator
by few or no intermediate objects.
§ 84. Estimation of distance when unaided by intermediate objects.
As we depend in no small degree upon intermediate
objects in forming our notions of distance, it results, that
we are often much perplexed by the absence of such ob-
jects. Accordingly we find that people frequently mis-
take when they attempt to estimate by the eye the length
or width of unoccupied plains and marshes, generally
making the extent less than it really is. For the same
reason they misjudge of the width of a river, estimating
its width at half or three quarters of a mile at the most,
when it is, perhaps, not less than double that distance.
The same holds true of other bodies of water, and of all
other things which are seen by us in a horizontal posi-
tion, and under similar circumstances.
We mistake in the same way, also, in estimating the
height of steeples, and of other bodies that are perpen-
dicular, and not on a level with the eye, provided the
height be considerable. As the upper parts of the stee-
ple out-top the surrounding buildings, and there are no
continuous objects with which to compare it, any meas-
urement taken by the eye must be inaccurate, but is
erally less than the truth.
gen-
Hence perhaps it is that a man on the top of a stee-
ple appears smaller to those below than the same man
would seem to the same person and at the same distance
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
117
on level ground. A man on the earth's surface, placed
at the same distance, would probably appear nearly of his
actual size. As we have been in the habit of measuring
horizontal distances by the eye, we can readily form a
nearly accurate opinion whether the person be at a hun-
dred feet distance, or more or less; and the mind imme-
diately makes an allowance for this distance, and corrects
the first visual representation of the size of the person so
rapidly that we do not remember it. But, having never
been in the habit of measuring perpendicular distances,
the mind is at a loss, and fails to make that correction
which it would readily, and, as it were, intuitively make
in the case of objects on level ground. The mistake,
therefore, of his supposed nearness, combined with this
perplexity, causes the comparative littleness of the man
on the steeple.
The fixed stars, when viewed by the eye, all appear to
be alike indefinitely and equally distant. Being scatter-
ed over the whole sky, they make every part of it seem
like themselves at an indefinite and equal distance, and
therefore contribute to give the whole sky the appearance
of the inside of a sphere. Moreover, the horizon seems
to the eye to be further off than the zenith; because be-
tween us and the former there lie many things, as fields,
hills, and waters, which we know to occupy a great space;
whereas between us and the zenith there are no consider-
able things of known dimensions. And, therefore, the
heavens appear like the segment of a sphere, and less
than a hemisphere, in the centre of which we seem to
stand. And the wider our prospect is, the greater will
the sphere appear to be, and the less the segment.
M
§ 85. Of objects seen on the ocean, &c.
A vessel seen at sea by a person who is not accustom-
ed to the ocean, appears much nearer than it actually is,
and on the same principles as already illustrated. In his
previous observations of the objects at a distance, he has
commonly noticed a number of intermediate objects inter-
posed between the distant body and himself. It is prob-
ably the absence of such objects that chiefly causes the
deception under which he labours in the present instance.
In connexion with what has been said, we are led to
118
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
ř
make this further remark, that a change in the purity of
the air will perplex, in some measure, those ideas of dis-
tance which we receive from sight. Bishop Berkeley re-
marks, while travelling in Italy and Sicily, he noticed that
cities and palaces, seen at a great distance, appeared near-
er to him by several miles than they actually were. The
cause of this he very correctly supposed to be the purity
of the Italian and Sicilian air, which gave to objects at a
distance a degree of brightness and distinctness which, in
the less clear and pure atmosphere of his native country,
could be observed only in those towns and separate edifices
which were near. At home he had learned to estimate
the distances of objects by their appearance; but his con-
clusions failed him when they came to be applied to ob-
jects in countries where the air was so much clearer.—
And the same thing has been noticed by other travellers
who have been placed in the like circumstances.
§ 86. Supposed feelings of a being called into existence in the full pos-
session of his powers.
In illustration of the principles which have been brought
forward in the successive consideration of the senses, we
are tempted to introduce in this place a favourite passage
of the celebrated Buffon. In the Natural History of that
learned writer we have an account of the process by
which the full use of the sight and of the other exter-
nal senses is acquired. He invents a delightful recital,
and puts it in the mouth of our first parent; and thus in-
structs us in the most abstruse subjects by an appeal to the
imagination.
"Let us suppose," says he, "a man newly brought
into existence, whose body and organs are already per-
fectly formed, but who, awaking amid the productions of
Nature, is an utter stranger to everything he perceives,
both from without and from within. Of a man thus cir-
cumstanced, what would be the first emotions, the first
sensations, the first opinions? Were he himself to give
us a detail of his conceptions at this period, how would
he express them? Might it not be in some measure as
follows?
"Well do I recollect that joyful, anxious moment, when
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
119
I first became conscious of my own existence.-I knew
not what I was, where I was, or whence I came. On
opening my eyelids, what an addition to my surprise!
The light of day, the azure vault of heaven, the verdure
of the earth, the crystal of the waters, all employed, all
animated, and filled me with inexpressible delight.
"At first I imagined that all those objects were with-
in me, and formed a part of myself. Impressed with this
idea, I turned my eyes towards the sun, whose splendour
instantly dazzled and overpowered me. Involuntarily I
closed my eyelids, though not without a slight sensation
of pain; and, during this short interval of darkness, I
imagined that I was about to sink into nothing.
"Full of affliction and astonishment, I had begun to
ponder on this great change, when, listening, I heard a va-
riety of sounds. The whistling of the wind and the mel-
ody of the grove formed a concert, of which the soft im-
pression pervaded the inmost recesses of my soul. I con-
tinued to listen; nor could I banish the persuasion that
all this music was actually within me.
S
"So much was I engrossed with this new kind of ex-
istence, that I entirely forgot the light, that other part of
my being, which I had known the first, till again I had
opened my eyes. What joy to find myself once more.
in possession of so many brilliant objects! The present
pleasure surpassed the former, and for a time suspended
the charming effect of sounds.
"I turned my eyes upon a thousand different objects.
These, which I still considered as a part of myself, I soon
found that I could lose and restore at pleasure; and with
a repetition of this new power I continued to amuse my-
self.
"I had begun to see without emotion, and to hear with-
out confusion, when a light breeze, of which the fresh-
ness communicated a new sensation of pleasure, wafted
its perfumes to me, and excited in me a kind of addi-
tional self-love.
"Agitated by all these different sensations, and impel-
led by the various pleasures of my new existence, I in-
stantly arose, and, in arising, perceived myself moved
along, as if by some unknown, some hidden power.
120
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
"Hardly had I advanced one step, when the novelty
of my situation rendered me, as it were, immoveable.
My surprise returned; for I supposed that all the objects
around me were in motion; to them I ascribed that agi-
tation which I had myself produced by changing place;
and the whole creation seemed once more to be in dis-
order.
t
"I carried my hand to my head; I touched my fore-
head; I felt my whole frame. Then it was that I first
conceived my hand to be the principal organ of my exist-
ence. All its informations were so distinct, so perfect,
and so superior to what I had experienced from the other
senses, that I employed myself for some time in repeating
its enjoyments. Every part of my body which I touch-
ed with my hand, seemed to touch my hand in turn, and
actually gave back sensation for sensation.
"It was not long before I perceived that this faculty
was expanded over my whole frame, and before I began
to discover the limits of my existence, which, at first. I
had supposed of an immense extent, and diffused over all
the objects I saw.
CC
Upon casting my eyes upon my body, and surveying
my own form, I conceived it to be of a size so enormous,
that all the objects which hitherto struck my eyes seemed
to be, in comparison, as so many luminous particles. I
gazed upon my person with pleasure. I examined the
formation of my hand, and all its motions; and the former
appeared to me more or less large, in proportion as it was
more or less distant from my eyes. On bringing it very
near, it concealed, I found, almost every other object from
my sight.
"I began soon, however, to suspect that there was some
fallacy in the sensation I experienced from the eye; and
I therefore resolved to depend for information upon the
touch, which, as yet, had never deceived me. This pre-
caution was highly serviceable. I renewed my motions,
and walked forward with my face turned towards the
heavens. Happening to strike lightly against a palm-tree,
I was dismayed, and laid my hand, though not without
fear, upon this extraneous body; for extraneous I conceiv-
ed it to be, as it did not return sensation for sensation, as
THE SENSE OF SIGHT.
121
my former feelings had done. Now it was that, for the
first time, I perceived there was something external, some-
thing which did not form an actual part of my own ex-
istence.
"From this new discovery I concluded that I ought to
form my opinion with respect to external objects in the
same manner as I had done with respect to the parts of
my body. I resolved, therefore, to feel whatever I saw;
and, vainly attempting to touch the sun, I stretched forth
my arms and found nothing but an airy vacuum. At ev-
ery effort I made, as each object appeared to me equally
near, from one fit of surprise I fell into another; nor was
it till after an infinite number of trials that I was enabled
to use the eye as a guide to the hand, and that I perceiv-
ed there were some objects more remote from me than
others.
"Amazed and mortified at the uncertainty of my state,
and at the endless delusions to which I seemed to be sub-
jected, the more I reflected the more I was perplexed.
Fatigued and oppressed with thought, I seated myself
beneath a tree, loaded with delicious fruit within my
reach. On stretching forth my arm, the fruit instantly
separated from the branches, and I seized it. To grasp
in my hand an entire substance, which formed no part of
myself, pleased me. When I held it up, its weight, though
in itself trivial, seemed, however, like an animated im-
pulse, to incline it to the earth. In conquering this re-
sistance I found another and a greater pleasure.
"I held the fruit near my eye, and I considered its form
and its colours. Its fragrance prompted me to carry it
nearer and nearer, and with eagerness did I inhale that
fragrance. The perfume invited my sense of tasting,
which I found to be superior to that of smelling. What
savour, what novelty of sensation did I now experience!
Nothing could be more exquisite. What before had been
pleasure was now heightened into luxury. The power
of tasting gave me the idea of possession. I imagined
that the substance of this fruit had become a part of my
own substance, and that I was empowered to transform
things without me at will.
"Charmed with the idea of this new power, and inci-
VOL. I.—L
122
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
ted by the sensations I had already experienced, I con-
tinued to pluck the fruit; nor did I consider any labour too
great for the satisfaction of my taste. At length, how-
ever, an ageeable languor stealing upon my senses, my
limbs became heavy, and my soul seemed to lose its ac-
tivity. My sensations, no longer vivid and distinct, pre-
sented to me only feeble and irregular images. In the
instant, as it were, my eyes became useless, closed; and
my head, no longer borne up by the strength of the mus-
cles, sunk back, and found a support upon the verdant
turf beneath.”
CHAPTER VII.
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
87. By means of sensations we have a knowledge of outward things.
In the third chapter of the Introduction it was remark-
ed, that the states of mind to which operations upon or
affections of our senses give rise, are, by our very consti-
tution, the occasions or grounds of belief; and that it is
by means of the senses we have a knowledge, in partic-
ular, of the external, material world. The new feelings,
following an affection of the senses, are in some sense the
occasions on which the active and curious mind moves
out of the world of its own spiritual and immaterial ex-
istence, and becomes acquainted with matter. It is some-
what here as in the reading of a book. When we read a
book, only certain coloured marks or lines, arranged in a
particular order, are directly presented to our senses; but
we find them connected with new states of mind, utterly
distinct from the direct impression which they make. Å
piece of paper, written over with such coloured delinea-
tions, becomes to the soul a sign of the most various and
exalted ideas; and in like manner, such is the constitu-
tion of our mental nature, it is found to be the case that
certain new affections of the mind, provided they are
caused by means of the senses, become the signs of vari-
ous existences, which are wholly diverse from the feelings
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
123
themselves. We experience the feelings, which all admit
to be in themselves neither archetypes nor resemblances of
anything whatever which is external to the soul; and then
at once we become acquainted with a vast multitude of out-
ward objects. On the authority of such feelings as are im-
mediately consequent on an affection of the senses, all man-
kind, if the evidence of their general conduct and of their
express declarations is to be regarded, believe in outward
objects, as having a distinct and real existence, as having
forms, properties, and relations.
§ 88. Objection to a reliance on the senses.
Nevertheless, without denying the fact of this general
reliance on the senses as a ground of belief, an objection
has been made to its being well placed. The objection,
stated in a few words, is this; THAT OUR SENSES SOME-
TIMES DECEIVE US, AND LEAD US INTO MISTAKES.
In support of the objection, such instances as the fol-
lowing are brought forward.-The sun and moon appear
to the spectator on the earth's surface to be a foot or two
in diameter, and little more than half a mile high; a
straight stick, thrust into the water, appears to us crooked,
as seen by the eye in that position; a square tower at a
distance is mistaken for a round one; a piece of ice for
a stone; a brass coin for a gold one. Nor are such mis-
takes to be ascribed solely to the sense of sight; they are
not unfrequently committed when we rely on the intima-
tions of the taste and smell, the touch and hearing.—Va-
rious facts of the above kind have been brought forward
to discredit the senses, and to prevent a reliance on them.
It is not necessary to extend the enumeration of them, as
these will serve for a specimen of the whole.
§ 89. The senses circumscribed or limited rather than fallacious.
That there are some apparent grounds for the objec-
tion which has been made to a full reliance on the tes-
timony of the senses, it is not necessary to deny. It is
nevertheless true, that the great mass of the alleged falla-
cies which have been brought forward in opposition to
such reliance, are susceptible of a satisfactory explana-
tion.-But before entering into particulars, it is requisite
4
124
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
to make the general remark, that the senses are more prop-
erly circumscribed or limited than fallacious; and that
they lead us astray, not so much by their own direct ac-
tion as in consequence of our expecting too much of them.
Now if we keep this in view, and moderate and chasten
our expectations by the evidently limited nature of the
senses, we shall find less to complain of.
The imperfect examination of the senses which we
have just gone through, evinces the truth of this remark.
It is the business, the appropriate function of the sense of
smelling, to give us a knowledge of the odours of bodies.
When we have these sensations, we may be led, from some
principle of the mind, to look for the cause of them, but
nothing more; we do not learn from it what the cause is.
It is not pretended that this sense alone can give us the
notion of an external odoriferous body. The sense of
taste is equally limited with that of smell; but both, as far
as they go, are grounds of knowledge, and do not deceive.
It might, no doubt, be said, that they may be diseased,
and thus mislead us; but the remarks of this section go
on the supposition that the senses are in a sound state.—
When we come to the sense of hearing, we find that the
perceptions of sound have, in part, an acquired character.
The reference of a particular sound to a particular external
cause always implies the previous exercise of the touch,
also the exercises of that principle of the mind which is
termed association, and of an act of the judgment. But
hearing, when in a sound state, is always a ground of be-
lief and knowledge, as far as the mere sensation of sound
is concerned, and so far can be most certainly trusted.
It is the appropriate business of the sense of sight,
against the testimony of which so many objections have
been made, to render us acquainted with the colours of
bodies. To say, therefore, that it leads us into errors in
respect to solidity, extension, size, direction, or distance,
is but very little, or, rather, nothing to the purpose. These
are acquired perceptions, and have their origin in another
sense, that of touch. The visual sensations are in these
cases mere signs of the knowledge which we have from
another source. When, therefore, we separate what be-
longs to the sight from what belongs to the touch, and
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
125
distinguish between them, it is impossible to fix the charge
of misrepresentation upon either.
And hence, on the question whether our senses mislead
us, we are always to consider to which of the senses the
particular things under review appropriately belong. And
in many cases when we are searching after truth, it be-
comes us to call in the aid of all the senses, and not to
consult one to the entire omission of the others. They
all make parts of one great and wonderful system, and
cannot be safely separated. When they are in a sound
state; when the ideas, of which they are the origin, are
properly discriminated; and, further, when the intimations
of one sense are aided by those of another, and by the
guidance of the reasoning power, which clearly ought not
to be excluded, we may then confidently expect to be led
by them into the truth, so far as our Creator designed that
it should be made known to us.
§ 90. Some alleged mistakes of the senses owing to want of care
If the course indicated at the close of the last section
were always followed, the mistakes to which we are oc-
casionally exposed would be much less frequent. But
even when we refer to all the senses, and combine with
this reference the deductions of reasoning, we may still
err from want of care. Beyond all question, some of the
mistakes ascribed to the senses are owing to premature
inferences from them; to a want of caution, discrimina-
tion, and full inquiry. This particular view of the sub-
ject is illustrated as follows by Dr. Reid.-" Many things
called the deceptions of the senses are only conclusions
rashly drawn from the testimony of the senses. In these
cases the testimony of the senses is true, but we rashly
draw a conclusion from it which does not necessarily fol-
low. We are disposed to impute our errors rather to false
information than to inconclusive reasoning, and to blame
our senses for the wrong conclusions we draw from their
testimony.
“Thus, when a man has taken a counterfeit guinea for
a true one, he says his senses deceived him; but he lays
the blame where it ought not to be laid: for we may ask
him, Did your senses give a false testimony of the colour,
L2
£26
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
or of the figure, or of the impression? No. But this is
all that they testified, and this they testified truly. From
these premises you concluded that it was a true guinea,
but this conclusion does not follow; you erred, therefore,
not by relying upon the testimony of sense, but by judg-
ing rashly from its testimony. Not only are your senses
innocent of this error, but it is only by their information
that it can be discovered. If you consult them properly,
they will inform you that what you took for a guinea is
base metal, or is deficient in weight, and this can only
be known by the testimony of sense.
"I remember to have met with a man who thought the
rgument used by Protestants against the Popish doctrine
of transubstantiation, from the testimony of our senses,
inconclusive; because, said he, instances may be given
where several of our senses may deceive us; how do we
know, then, that there may not be cases wherein they all
deceive us, and no sense is left to detect the fallacy? I
begged of him to know an instance wherein several of our
senses deceive us. I take, said he, a piece of soft turf; I
cut it into the shape of an apple; with the essence of ap-
ples I give it the smell of an apple; and with paint I can
give it the skin and colour of an apple. Here, then, is a
body, which, if you judge by your eye, by your touch, or
by your smell, is an apple.
66
To this I would answer, that no one of our senses
deceives us in this case. My sight and touch testify that
it has the shape and colour of an apple; this is true.
The sense of smelling testifies that it has the smell of an
apple: this is likewise true, and is no deception. Where,
then, lies the deception? It is evident it lies in this, that
because this body has some qualities belonging to the ap-
ple, I conclude that it is an apple. This is a fallacy, not
of the senses, but of inconclusive reasoning.
*
There are other instances where the subject might be.
placed in a true light. It is well known (to take an il-
lustration not unfrequently referred to by writers) that the
vibrations of a pendulum are affected by its geographical
position, the latitude where it is. Before this fact was
ascertained, a person might have employed a pendulum
* Reid's Intellectual Powers of Man, Essay ii.
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
127
of a given length as a measure of comparative duration
at two distant points on the globe's surface. And when
he had done this, he might have been disposed to declare,
on the authority of his senses and personal observation,
that two portions of time, measured in different latitudes,
were the same, although they were in fact different.
But here comes the question: Are his senses to blame
for this mistake? Not at all. The testimony of the sen-
ses and of observation, as far as it went, was correct.
The mistake is evidently to be attributed to erroneous
deduction. The conclusion was bottomed on the great
and undoubted principle of reasoning, that the laws of
nature are uniform. But then there were various assump-
tions in this particular case, viz., that the earth is circular
and not a spheroid; that the same quantity of the attract-
ive force of the earth operates on the pendulum at every
point in the earth's surface, &c. Here is the foundation
of the mistake; in certain facts precipitately assumed as
grounds of reasoning, and in the deductions from them,
and not in the senses.
§ 91. Of mistakes in judging of the motion of objects.
"Many false judgments," it is further remarked by Dr.
Reid," that are accounted deceptions of sense, arise from
our mistaking relative motion for real or absolute motion.
These can be no deceptions of sense, because by our sen-
ses we perceive only the relative motions of bodies; and
it is by reasoning that we infer the real from the relative
which we perceive. A little reflection may satisfy us of
this.
"It was before observed, that we perceive extension to
be one sensible quality of bodies, and thence are neces-
sarily led to conceive space, though space be of itself no
object of sense. When a body is removed out of its
place, the space which it filled remains empty till it is
filled by some other body, and would remain if it should
never be filled. Before any body existed, the space which
bodies now occupy was empty space, capable of receiv-
ing bodies, for no body can exist where there is no space
to contain it. There is space, therefore, wherever bodies
exist or can exist.
128
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
"Hence it is evident that space can have no limits.
It is no less evident that it is immoveable. Bodies placed
in it are moveable, but the place where they were cannot
be moved; and we can as easily conceive a thing to be
moved from itself, as one part of space brought nearer
to, or removed further from another.
"This space, therefore, which is unlimited and immove-
able, is called by philosophers absolute space. Absolute
or real motion is a change of place in absolute space.
"Our senses do not testify the absolute motion or ab-
solute rest of any body. When one body removes from
another, this may be discerned by the senses; but wheth-
er any body keeps the same part of absolute space, we
do not perceive by our senses. When one body seems
to remove from another, we can infer with certainty that
there is absolute motion; but whether in the one or the
other, or partly in both, is not discerned by sense.
"Of all the prejudices which philosophy contradicts, I
believe there is none so general as that the earth keeps
its place unmoved. This opinion seems to be universal,
till it is corrected by instruction, or by philosophical spec-
ulation. Those who have any tincture of education are
not now in danger of being held by it, but they find at
first a reluctance to believe that there are antipodes; that
the earth is spherical, and turns round its axis every day,
and round the sun every year. They can recollect the
time when reason struggled with prejudice upon these
points, and prevailed at length, but not without some
effort.
"The cause of a prejudice so very general is not un-
worthy of investigation. But that is not our present bu-
siness. It is sufficient to observe, that it cannot justly be
called a fallacy of sense; because our senses testify only
the change of a situation of one body in relation to other
bodies, and not its change of situation in absolute space.
It is only the relative motion of bodies that we perceive,
and that we perceive truly. It is the province of reason
and philosophy, from the relative motions which we per-
ceive, to collect the real and absolute motions which pro-
duce them.
“All motion must be estimated from some point or place
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
129
which is supposed to be at rest. We perceive not the
points of absolute space, from which real and absolute
motion must be reckoned; and there are obvious reasons
that lead mankind, in a state of ignorance, to make the
earth the fixed place from which they may estimate the
various motions they perceive. The custom of doing this
from infancy, and of using constantly a language which
supposes the earth to be at rest, may perhaps be the cause
of the general prejudice in favour of this opinion.
"Thus it appears, that if we distinguish accurately be-
tween what our senses really and naturally testify, and
the conclusions which we draw from their testimony by
reasoning, we shall find many of the errors, called falla-
cies of the senses, to be no fallacy of the senses, but rash
judgments, which are not to be imputed to our senses."
§ 92. Of mistakes as to the distances and magnitude of objects.
One class of the fallacies by means of the senses is
made up of those errors we commit in our perceptions of
the distance of objects. Our sight, it is said, often repre-
sents objects to be near which are distant, and objects to
be distant which are near. That we often form errone-
ous judgments as to the distance of objects, is true; but
it is a mistaken sentiment which ascribes these erroneous
opinions to the misrepresentations of the sight in itself
considered.
Take the case of the sun and moon. Those heavenly
bodies, as they come under the cognizance of sight, ap-
pear very small, but, in point of fact, are known to be very
large. Still, in this very instance (although this is one of
the cases most frequently referred to by the expositors of
the alleged weaknesses and errors of the senses), it can-
not be shown that there is any deception practised upon
us by that sense. It has sufficiently appeared that exten-
sion, figure, the magnitude and the distance of bodies, are
not direct objects of sight, and that our notions of them
are not original in that sense, but are acquired. While,
therefore, we have a direct acquaintance with colours by
means of sight, it happens that, in estimating the distance
of objects by the same sense, we are obliged to call in the
aid of the intimations of the touch, and to make use also
130
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
of comparison and judgment. And hence we are able to
fix on this general principle, that the apparent magnitude
of an object will vary with its distance. It is clear, there-
fore, that there is no deception practised upon us. When,
by such calculations as we are able to make, we have as-
certained the distance of the sun and moon, then every
one is satisfied that their apparent magnitude or their ap-
pearance to the eye is just such as it should be; and that
the eye gives to us precisely the same representation as
in any other instance of visible objects presented to it.
It gives such a view of the object as it was designed to
give; and teaches us here the same as it teaches us con-
stantly.
(II.) Another class of errors are those of magnitude.
The notions which we form on that subject also are ac-
quired, and not original. We judge objects to be great
or small in comparison with ourselves or with one anoth-
er, and not in consequence of anything which is directly
or immediately perceived in the objects themselves. We
might call many objects small which happened to be of
the size of a particular diamond, and yet not inconsistent-
ly speak of the diamond itself as a very large one; and
this for the simple reason that our notions of large and
small are not absolute but relative, and are formed by re-
peated acts of comparison. If there were but one object
in creation besides ourselves, and if we could not reason
from ourselves to that object, we could not possibly form
any notion of its magnitude as distinct from the mere
idea of extension. It is very clear, our senses could not,
of themselves, authorize us to speak of such an object as
large or small. Nor could it be done by reasoning, inas-
much as there are supposed to be no other objects with
which to compare it. These few remarks and illustra-
tions can hardly fail to evince, that such mistakes as may
exist in regard to the distance and magnitude of objects,
are not exclusively attributable to the senses.
93. The senses liable to be diseased.
There is one respect, however, in which it is perhaps
true that we can speak with propriety of deceptions ari-
sing from the cause now under consideration. The body,
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
131
as a whole, being liable to be diseased, the senses, as a
part of the physical system, are of course not exempted
from this liability. As a mere question of fact, it cannot
be deemed a matter of doubt that the senses are often
physically disordered, and at such times all persons are
liable to be led astray by them. What is sweet to per-
sons ordinarily, may appear bitter to one with a diseased
palate; what is white to the mass of mankind, may ap-
pear of a yellow hue to one whose organ of sight is dis-
eased; the physical condition of the sense of touch may
be so perverted as to lead the diseased person to imagine
he is made of glass or feathers instead of flesh and blood.
But it is surely enough to say, in respect to cases of this
kind, that such is the condition of humanity, the sad but
common allotment of mankind. What principle in our
mental constitution is not liable to be perverted? What
susceptibility is not liable to find its action suspended?
In our general conduct, we rely, and very correctly, on
the MEMORY; but the laws of memory may be disorganized
by what may be termed a mental disease. We rely with
equal readiness on the REASONING power; no one doubts
that its conclusions are a ground of belief. But of what
value is reasoning when uttered in the ravings of a mad-
man, or when drawing its conclusions in a lunatic asy-
lum ?-It follows, therefore, if the senses deceive us in
the case we are now attending to, the fault, if such it is
to be considered, is not an exclusive one. It belongs to
other parts of our nature also, not excepting its noblest
and most trustworthy powers. And if we must reject
the testimony of the senses simply because they are liable
to be diseased, we must, for the same reason and in con-
sistency with ourselves, reject the testimony of memory,
of reason, and even of consciousness.
94. On the real existence of a material world.
It will be noticed that, in what has been said, we have
taken for granted the actual existence of an external, ma-
terial world. Certain it is, that no man who has the or-
dinary constitution of a man can doubt the reality of such
an external, material creation. All external nature is op-
erating upon us from the very moment of our birth; and
132
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
giving origin, consistency, and strength to this belief. The
resistance which bodies present to the touch when that
sense is impressed upon them by the agency of the mus-
cles, gives occasion for the distinct and important idea of
externality; and with this idea the senses soon enable us
to associate others, as extension, colour, form, and all ma-
terial qualities and properties. In this way we become
acquainted with what is called the outward world. And
we are now prepared to assert explicitly, that this sup-
posed outward world has an actual and independent ex-
-
istence.
But an objection is made here. It may be said that
the mere fact of our having sensations or ideas of exter-
nality, extension, colour, and the like, does not necessarily
involve and imply the true and actual existence of those
things which they represent, or of which they are sup-
posed and believed to be the effect. In other words, we
may possess certain internal affections, and attribute them
to something external and material as their cause; and
we may truly and sincerely believe the reality of such a
cause, while, in point of fact, it does not exist; and, con-
sequently, our conviction of a truly existing material world
may be a self-imposition and delusion. On this view of
our exclusion from any satisfactory knowledge of a ma-
terial world, which is not so singular as not to have had
some acute advocates, a few remarks are to be offered.
§ 95. Doctrine of the non-existence of matter considered.
-
The first remark which we have to make concerns the
mere fact of belief. We have already made the decla-
ration with confidence, that no man who has the ordina-
ry constitution of a man can doubt of the reality of ex-
ternal, material things. It is no presumption to assert, that
the belief of the reality of an external cause of our sen-
sations is universal. This is the common feeling, the
common language of all mankind.-Those who deny the
propriety of relying on the evidence of the senses for the
existence of the material world, and who deny such ex-
istence, should explain this belief. That such a belief
exists cannot be denied; that it is a false belief, an un-
founded conviction, ought not to be lightly asserted. It
MOD
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
133
wars too much, as even a slight examination would suffice
to show, with the sentiments of man's moral and religious
constitution.
It is to be acknowledged with gratitude, that the great
mass of mankind fully believe in the existence of the De-
ity, a being of perfect truth as well as benevolence. But
to create man so that he should be irresistibly led to be-
lieve in the existence of a material world when it did
not exist, to create him with high capacities of thought,
feeling, and action, and then to surround him with mere
illusive and imaginary appearances, does not agree with
that notion of God which we are wont to entertain. Mr.
Stewart, in speaking of the metaphysical inquiries of Des
Cartes, observes, that his reasonings led him to conclude,
that God cannot possibly be supposed to deceive his crea-
tures; and, therefore, that the intimations of our senses
and the decisions of our reason are to be trusted to with
entire confidence, wherever they afford us clear and dis-
tinct ideas of their respective objects.
In the second place, it will undoubtedly be admitted,
that the sensations which have been spoken of have an
existence. This existence, it is true, is wholly internal;
but still the simple fact remains that they exist; our con-
sciousness most decisively teaches us so. But it has been
laid down as a primary truth, a first principle, that there
is no beginning or change of existence without a cause.
This is an elementary principle, placed as far above all
objection and skepticism as any one can be, and evident-
ly preliminary to the full exercise of reasoning.
And where, then, is the cause of these internal effects?
What man, who denies the existence of the material
world, is able to indicate the origin of these results? If,
yielding to the suggestions of our nature and the requisi-
tions of our belief, we seek for a cause external to our-
selves, we find a satisfactory explanation; otherwise we
may expect to find none of any kind.
◊ 96. The senses as much grounds of belief as other parts of our con-
stitution.
Furthermore, it must be admitted, as has already been
particularly stated and shown, that there are certain ori-
VOL. I.-M
134
OF RELIANCE ON THE SENSES.
ginal sources or grounds of belief in our constitution.
To say otherwise would be to loosen and destroy the
foundations of all knowledge, whether that knowledge
has relation to matter or mind. But what evidence is
there that there are such original sources of belief, or
that any one thing in particular is the foundation of such
belief more than any other thing? The answer is, our
own internal consciousness and conviction, and this mere-
ly; we are conscious of belief, and are able to trace it to
the occasions which give it rise.
Now if we carefully examine our minds, we shall find
that the intimations of the senses as effectually cause be-
lief as any other source of evidence whatever. Our con-
sciousness, our internal conviction tells us, that our belief is
as decisively regulated by the perceptions, derived through
the senses, as by our intuitive or inductive perceptions;
and that they are as much a ground of knowledge. We
assert this with confidence; therefore, if the senses are
not a ground of belief and knowledge, the way is fairly
open for unlimited skepticism on all subjects. It will in
this case be impossible to fix upon anything whatever
which is to be received as evidence, and men must give
up all knowledge of intellect as well as matter, and will
be at once released from all moral obligation.
S
§ 97. Opinions of Locke on the testimony of the senses.
As the satisfactory understanding of this subject is of
much practical importance, we shall close what has been
said upon it by some passages from Mr. Locke." If, af-
ter all this,” he says, in the Fourth Book of his Essay,
(6
any one will be so skeptical as to distrust his senses,
and to affirm that all we see and hear, feel and taste,
think and do, during our whole being, is but the series
and deluding appearances of a long dream, whereof there
is no reality; and, therefore, will question the existence of
all things, or our knowledge of anything; I must desire
him to consider that, if all be a dream, then he doth but
dream that he makes the question; and so it is not much
matter that a waking man should answer him. But yet,
if he pleases, he may dream that I make him this answer,
that the certainty of things existing in rerum natura,
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
135
when we have the testimony of our senses for it, is not
only as great as our frame can attain to, but as our con-
dition needs. For our faculties being suited not to the
full extent of being, nor to a perfect, clear, comprehen-
sive knowledge of things, free from all doubt and scruple,
but to the preservation of us in whom they are, and ac-
commodated to the use of life, they serve to our purpose
well enough, if they will but give us certain notice of
those things which are convenient or inconvenient to us.
For he that sees a candle burning, and hath experimented
the force of its flame by putting his finger in it, will little
doubt that this is something existing without him, which
does him harm, and puts him to great pain; which is
assurance enough, when no man requires greater certain-
ty to govern his actions by than what is as certain as
his actions themselves. And if our dreamer pleases to
try whether the glowing heat of a glass furnace be bare-
ly a wandering imagination in a drowsy man's fancy,
by putting his hand into it he may perhaps be wakened
into a certainty greater than he could wish, that it is
something more than bare imagination. So that this ev-
idence is as great as we can desire, being as certain to us
as our pleasure or pain, i. e., happiness or misery, beyond
which we have no concernment, either of knowing or be-
ing. Such an assurance of the existence of things with-
out us is sufficient to direct us in the attaining the good
and avoiding the evil which is caused by them, which
is the important concernment we have of being made ac-
quainted with them."

CHAPTER VIII.
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
§ 98. General view of the law of habit and of its applications.
THERE is an important law of the mental constitution,
known as the law of Habit, which may be described in
general terms as follows: That the mental action acquires
136
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
facility and strength from repetition or practice. The
fact that the facility and the increase of strength implied
in HABIT is owing to mere repetition, or what is more fre-
quently termed practice, we learn, as we do other facts.
and principles in relation to the mind, from the observa-
tion of men around us, and from our own personal expe-
rience. And as it has hitherto been found wholly im-
practicable to resolve it into any general fact or principle
more elementary, it may justly be regarded as something
ultimate and essential in our nature.
The term Habit, by the use of language, indicates
the facility and strength acquired in the way which has
been mentioned, including both the result and the man-
ner of it.
As the law of habit has reference to the whole
mind of man, the application of the term which expresses
it is of course very extensive. We apply it to the dex-
terity of workmen in the different manual arts, to the ra-
pidity of the accountant, to the coup d'œil or eye-glance
of the military engineer, to the tact and fluency of the
extemporaneous speaker, and in other like instances.-
We apply it also in cases where the mere exercise of
emotion and desire is concerned; to the avaricious man's
love of wealth, the ambitious man's passion for distinc-
tion, the wakeful suspicions of the jealous, and the con-
firmed and substantial benevolence of the philanthropist.
It is remarkable, that the law under consideration holds
good in respect to the body as well as the mind. In the
mechanical arts, and in all cases where there is a corpo-
real as well as mental effort, the effect of practice will
be found to extend to both. Not only the acts of the
mind are quickened and strengthened, but all those mus-
cles which are at such times employed, become stronger
and more obedient to the will. Indeed, the submission of
the muscular effort to the volition is oftentimes rendered
so prompt by habit, that we are unable distinctly to rec-
ollect any exercise of volition previous to the active or
muscular exertion. It is habit which is the basis of those
characteristic peculiarities that distinguish one man's
handwriting from another's; it is habit which causes
that peculiarity of attitude and motion, so easily discov-
erable in most persons, termed their gait; it is habit also
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
137
which has impressed on the muscles immediately connect-
ed with the organs of speech, that fixed and precise form
of action, which, in different individuals, gives rise, in part
at least, to characteristics of voice. The habit in the
cases just mentioned is both bodily and mental, and has
become so strong, that it is hardly possible to counteract
it for any length of time.-The great law of Habit is
applicable to all the leading divisions of our mental na-
ture, the Intellect, the Sensibilities, and the Will; and as
we advance from one view of the mind to another, we
shall have repeated occasion to notice its influence. In
the remainder of this chapter, we shall limit our remarks
to habit, considered in connexion with the Sensations and
Perceptions.
§ 99. Of habit in relation to the smell.
We shall consider the application of the principle of
Habit to the senses in the same order which has already
been observed. In the first place, therefore, there are
habits of Smell.-This sense, like the others, is suscepti-
ble of cultivation. As there are some persons whose
power of distinguishing the difference between two or
more colours is feeble, so there are some who are doubt-
ful and perplexed, in like manner, in the discrimination
of odours. And as the inability may be overcome in
some measure in the former case, so it may be in the lat-
ter. The fact that the powers of which the smell is capa-
ble are not more frequently brought out and quickened,
owing to the circumstance that it is not ordinarily needed.
It sometimes happens, however, that men are compelled
to make an uncommon use of it, when, by a defect in the
other senses, they are left without the ordinary helps to
knowledge. It is then we see the effects of the law of
Habit. It is stated in Mr. Stewart's account of James
Mitchell, who was deaf, sightless, speechless, and, of
course, strongly induced by his unfortunate situation to
make much use of the sense we are considering, that his
smell would immediately and invariably inform him of
the presence of a stranger, and direct to the place where
he might be; and it is repeatedly asserted, that this sense
had become in him extremely acute." It is related,"
M 2
138
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
says Dr. Abercrombie, "of the late Dr. Moyse, the well-
known blind philosopher, that he could distinguish a black
dress on his friends by its smell."
In an interesting account of a deaf, dumb, and blind
girl in the Hartford Asylum recently published, statements
are made on this subject of a similar purport.-"It has
been observed," says the writer," of persons who are de-
prived of a particular sense, that additional quickness or
vigour seems to be bestowed on those which remain.
Thus blind persons are often distinguished by peculiar
exquisiteness of touch, and the deaf and dumb, who gain
all their knowledge through the eye, concentrate, as it
were, their whole souls in that channel of observation.
With her whose eye, ear, and tongue are alike dead, the
capabilities both of touch and smell are exceedingly
heightened. Especially the latter seems almost to have
acquired the properties of a new sense, and to transcend
the sagacity even of a spaniel."-Such is the influence of
habit on the intimations of the sense under consideration.
100. Of habit in relation to the taste.
The same law is applicable to the Taste. We see the
results of the frequent exercise of this sense in the quick-
ness which the dealer in wines discovers in distinguishing
the flavour of one wine from that of another. So mark-
ed are the results in cases of this kind, that one is almost
disposed to credit the story which Cervantes relates of
two persons who were requested to pass their judgment
upon a hogshead, which was supposed to be very old
and excellent. One of them tasted the wine, and pro-
nounced it to be very good, with the exception of a slight
taste of leather which he perceived in it. The other, after
mature reflection and examination, pronounced the same
favourable verdict, with the exception of a taste of iron,
which he could easily distinguish. On emptying the
hogshead, there was found at the bottom an old key with
a leathern thong tied to it.
Another practical view of this subject, however, pre-
sents itself here. The sensations which we experience
in this and in other like cases, not only acquire by repe-
tition greater niceness and discrimination, but increased
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
139
strength (and perhaps the increased strength is in all in-
stances the foundation of the greater power of discrimi-
nation). On this topic we have a wide and melancholy
source of illustration. The bibber of wine and the drink-
er of ardent spirits readily acknowledge that the sensa-
tion was at first only moderately pleasing, and perhaps
in the very slightest degree. Every time they carried the
intoxicating potion to their lips, the sensation grew more
pleasing, and the desire for it waxed stronger. Perhaps
they were not aware that this process was going on in
virtue of a great law of humanity; but they do not pre-
tend to deny the fact. They might, indeed, have suspect-
ed at an early period that chains were gathering around
them, whatever might be the cause; but what objection
had they to be bound with links of flowers; delightful
while they lasted, and easily broken when necessary!
But here was the mistake. Link was added to link,
chain was woven with chain, till he who boasted of his
strength was at last made sensible of his weakness, and
found himself a prisoner, a captive, a deformed, altered,
and degraded slave.
There is a threefold operation. The sensation of taste
acquires an enhanced degree of pleasantness; the feeling
of uneasiness is increased in a corresponding measure
when the sensation is not indulged by drinking; and the
desire, which is necessarily attendant on the uneasy feel-
ing, becomes in like manner more and more imperative.
To alleviate the uneasy feeling and this importunate de-
sire, the unhappy man goes again to his cups, and with
a shaking hand pours down the delicious poison. What
then? He has added a new link to his chain; at every
repetition it grows heavier and heavier; till that, which
at first he bore lightly and cheerfully, now presses him
like a coat of iron, and galls like fetters of steel. There
is a great and fearful law of his nature bearing him down
to destruction. Every indulgence is the addition of a
new weight to what was before placed upon him, thus
lessening the probability of escape, and accelerating his
gloomy, fearful, and interminable sinking. We do not
mean to say that he is the subject of an implacable des-
tiny, and cannot help himself. But it would seem that
140
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
he can help himself only in this way; by a prompt, ab-
solute, and entire suspension of the practice in all its forms,
which has led him into this extremity. But few, how-
ever, have the resolution to do this; the multitude make
a few unwilling and feeble efforts, and resign themselves
to the horrors of their fate.
Some years since there was a pamphlet published in
England, entitled the Confessions of a Drunkard. The
statements made in it are asserted on good authority to
be authentic. And what does the writer say?—“ Of my
condition there is no hope that it should ever change; the
waters have gone over me; but out of the black depths,
could I be heard, I would cry out to all those who have
but set a foot in the perilous flood. Could the youth, to
whom the flavour of his first wine is delicious as the open-
ing scenes of life, or the entering upon some newly-dis-
covered paradise, look into my desolation, and be made
to understand what a dreary thing it is when a man shall
feel himself going down a precipice with open eyes and
a passive will; to see his destruction, and have no pow-
er to stop it, and yet to feel it all the way emanating from
himself; to perceive all goodness emptied out of him,
and yet not be able to forget a time when it was other-
wise; to bear about the piteous spectacle of his own self-
ruin; could he see my fevered eye, feverish with last
night's drinking, and feverishly looking for this night's
repetition of the folly; could he feel the body of the
death out of which I cry hourly, with feebler and feebler
outcry, to be delivered, it were enough to make him dash
the sparkling beverage to the earth in all the pride of its
mantling temptation."*
§ 101. Of habit in relation to the hearing.
There is undoubtedly a natural difference in the quick-
ness and discrimination of hearing. This sense is more
acute in some than in others; but in those who possess it
in much natural excellence, it is susceptible of a high de-
gree of cultivation. Musicians are a proof of this, whose
sensibility to the melody and concord of sweet sounds
continually increases with the practice of their art.
* London Quarterly Review, vol. xxvii., p. 120.
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
141
This increase of sensibility in the perceptions of hearing
is especially marked and evident when uncommon causes
have operated to secure such practice. And this is the
state of things with the Blind. The readers of Sir Wal-
ter Scott may not have forgotten the blind fiddler, who
figures so conspicuously with verse and harp in Red
Gauntlet; a character sufficiently extraordinary, but by
no means an improbable exaggeration. The blind ne-
cessarily rely much more than others on the sense of hear-
ing. By constant practice they increase the accuracy
and power of its perceptions. Shut out from the beauties
that are seen, they please themselves with what is heard,
and greedily drink in the melodies of song. According-
ly, music is made by them not only a solace, but a busi-
ness and a means of support; and in the Institutions for
the Blind this is considered an important department of
instruction.
Many particular instances on record, and well authen-
ticated, confirm the general statement, that the ear may
be trained to habits, and that thus the sensations of sound
may come to us with new power and meaning. It is re-
lated of a celebrated blind man of Puiseaux in France,
that he could determine the quantity of fluid in vessels
by the sound it produced while running from one vessel
into another. "Dr. Rush," as the statement is given in
Abercrombie's Intellectual Powers, "relates of two blind
young men, brothers, of the city of Philadelphia, that
they knew when they approached a post in walking
across a street, by a peculiar sound which the ground un-
der their feet emitted in the neighbourhood of the post;
and that they could tell the names of a number of tame
pigeons, with which they amused themselves in a little
garden, by only hearing them fly over their heads." Dr.
Saunderson, who became blind so early as not to remem-
ber having seen, when happening in any new place, as a
room, piazza, pavement, court, and the like, gave it a
character by means of the sound and echo from his feet;
and in that way was able to identify pretty exactly the
place, and assure himself of his position afterward. A
writer in the First Volume of the Manchester Philosoph-
ical Memoirs, who is our authority also for the statement
142
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
just made, speaks of a certain blind man in that city as
follows: "I had an opportunity of repeatedly observing
the peculiar manner in which he arranged his ideas, and
acquired his information. Whenever he was introduced
into company, I remarked that he continued some time
silent. The sound directed him to judge of the dimen-
sions of the room, and the different voices of the number
of persons that were present. His distinction in these
respects was very accurate; and his memory so retentive
that he was seldom mistaken. I have known him instant-
ly recognise a person on first hearing him, though more
than two years had elapsed since the time of their last
meeting. He determined pretty nearly the stature of those
he was conversing with by the direction of their voices;
and he made tolerable conjectures respecting their tem-
pers and dispositions by the manner in which they con-
ducted their conversation."
§ 102. Of certain universal habits based on sounds.
There are certain habits of hearing (perhaps we
should say classes of habits) which all men, by the aid
of the other senses, combined with that of the judgment,
form at an early period of life. The first class of hab-
its here referred to are those which have relation to
the particular cause and the distance of sounds. The
manner in which we learn these has been pointed out in
a previous section (§ 66). The mere sensations of sound
are entirely a distinct thing from the ideas of cause, place,
and direction, which we generally combine with them.
Owing to frequent repetition from early life, this combi-
nation is effected so rapidly, that we are unable to retrace
the successive steps of the process, and the whole seems
to be involved in a single sensation. Perhaps it may be
said that the effect of repetition (that is to say, the HAB-
IT) has more direct and special relation to the act of
judgment, which combines the reference with the sensa-
tion, than to the sensation itself. However that may be,
it may still be proper to speak of habits of hearing in the
respect now under consideration, when we remember that
the reference has been so long and closely interwoven
with the sensation as to be apparently and practically,
though not really, identical with it.
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION,
143

In respect to spoken language also, our habits are so
laboriously and deeply founded, that we may almost con-
sider ourselves as having a new sense superadded to that
of hearing. In our ordinary conversation with others,
we seem to hear the whole of what is said; nothing is
lost, as we imagine. But that this is not the fact, and
that we are sustained in such cases not wholly by an
actual sensation of sound, but in part, at least, by an ac-
quired power or HABIT, is evident from this. When we
hear proper names, whether of persons, places, or natural
objects, pronounced for the first time, we often hesitate in
respect to them; are not certain that we possess the syl-
lables intended to be conveyed, and ask for the repetition
of them. We experience the same difficulty and uncer-
tainty, as every one must have known who has tried it,
when we hear a person read or converse in a foreign lan-
guage. But when the conversation is in our own lan-
guage, and relates to persons and objects we are acquaint-
ed with, it is altogether different, as has already been in-
timated. But what is the ground of the difference? Why
are we perplexed in one case and not in the other ?—In
our intercourse with others in conversation, it almost con-
stantly happens (at least as much so as on any other oc-
casions), that the ear catches nothing but imperfect sylla-
bles, half-uttered words, sounds jumbled and commingled
together; but we are nevertheless not commonly at a loss
and perplexed, as in the cases before mentioned. By the
aid of judgment, and the power of conception, whose ac-
tion has in this case, by long repetition, formed itself into
a prompt and decisive habit, we at once separate these
confused elements, supply the breaks in their connexion,
fill up the deficiencies, and make out a continuous and
significant whole. And yet this is done so rapidly, and
is so common, that in most cases we imagine there is no-
thing more than the pure and unmixed sensation.
§ 103. Application of habit to the touch.
The sense of touch, like the others, may be exceedingly
improved by habit. The more we are obliged to call it
into use, the more attention we pay to its intimations.
By the frequent repetition, therefore, under such circum-
144
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
stances, these sensations not only acquire increased in-
tenseness in themselves, but particularly so in reference to
our notice and remembrance of them. But it is desirable
to confirm this, as it is all other principles from time to
time laid down, by an appeal to facts, and by careful in-
ductions from them.
Diderot relates of the blind man of Puiseaux mention-
ed in a former section, that he was capable of judging of
his distance from the fireplace by the degree of heat,
and of his approach to any solid bodies by the action or
pulse of the air upon his face. The same thing is record-
ed of many other persons in a similar situation;* and it
may be regarded as a point well established, that blind
people, who are unable to see the large and heavy bodies
presenting themselves in their way as they walk about,
generally estimate their approach to them by the increas-
ed resistance of the atmosphere. A blind person, owing
to the increased accuracy of his remaining senses, espe-
cially of the touch, would be better trusted to go through
the apartments of a house in the darkness of midnight,
than one possessed of the sense of seeing without any ar-
tificial light to guide him.
In the celebrated Dr. Saunderson, who lost his sight in
very early youth, and remained blind through life, al-
though he occupied the professorship of mathematics in
the English University of Cambridge, the touch acquired
such acuteness that he could distinguish, by merely let-
* It is a singular circumstance, that something similar to what is here
stated of the ability of blind men to discover the nearness or distance of
objects by changes in the resistance of the atmosphere, has been noticed
by the naturalist Spallanzani in respect to bats. He discovered that
bats, when perfectly blinded and afterward set at liberty, had the extra-
ordinary faculty of guiding themselves through the most complicated
windings of subterraneous passages, without striking against the walls,
and they avoided with great skill cords, branches of trees, and other ob-
stacles, placed by design in their way.
This ability is probably owing to an extreme delicacy in the wing, which
is of a very large size in proportion to that of the animal, and is covered
with an exceedingly fine network of nerves. The bat, as it strikes the
air with its wing, receives sensations of heat, cold, and resistance, and,
in consequence, is enabled to avoid objects which would otherwise ob-
struct its flight, apparently in the same way that blind persons perceive
a door or a wall by a change in the temperature or in the resistance of
the air.
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
145
ting them pass through his fingers, spurious coins, which
were so well executed as to deceive even skilful judges
who could see.*
one.
The case of a Mr. John Metcalf, otherwise called Blind
Jack, which is particularly dwelt upon by the author of
the Article in the Memoirs just referred to, is a striking
The writer states that he became blind at an early
period; but, notwithstanding, followed the profession of
a wagoner, and occasionally of a guide in intricate roads
during the night, or when the tracks were covered with
snow. At length he became a projector and surveyor of
highways in difficult and mountainous districts; an em-
ployment for which one would naturally suppose a blind
man to be but indifferently qualified. But he was found
to answer all the expectations of his employers, and most
of the roads over the peak in Derbyshire, in England,
were altered by his directions. Says the person who
gives this account of Blind Jack, "I have several times
met this man, with the assistance of a long staff traver-
sing the roads, ascending precipices, exploring valleys, and
investigating their several extents, forms, and situations,
so as to answer his designs in the best manner."
In the interesting Schools for the Blind which have re-
cently been established in various parts of the world, the
pupils read by means of the fingers. They very soon
learn by the touch to distinguish one letter from another,
which are made separately for that purpose of wood, met-
als, or other hard materials. The printed sheets which
they use are conformed to their method of studying them.
The types are much larger than those ordinarily used in
printing; the paper is very thick, and, being put upon the
types while wet, and powerfully pressed, the letters on
it are consequently raised, and appear in relief. The pu-
pils, having before learned to distinguish one letter from
another, and also to combine them into syllables and
words, are able, after a time, to pass their fingers along the
words and sentences of these printed sheets, and ascer-
tain their meaning with a good degree of rapidity.
Perhaps it may occasion some surprise when we add,
that men may not only read by the touch, but may even
* Memoirs of Manchester Philos. Society, vol. i., p. 164
VOL. I.-N
146
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
find a substitute for the hearing in that sense. Persons
who were entirely deaf have in some instances discovered
a perception of the proportion and harmony of sounds.
"It will scarcely be credited," says an English writer,
speaking of one in that situation, "that a person thus cir-
cumstanced should be fond of music; but this was the
fact in the case of Mr. Arrowsmith. He was at a gen-
tlemen's glee club, of which I was president at that time,
and, as the glees were sung, he would place himself near
some article of wooden furniture, or a partition, door, or
window-shutter, and would fix the extreme end of his
finger nails, which he kept rather long, upon the edge of
some projecting part of the wood, and there remain until
the piece under performance was finished, all the while
expressing, by the most significant gestures, the pleasure he
experienced from the perception of musical sounds. He
was not so much pleased with a solo as with a pretty full
clash of harmony; and if the music was not very good, or
I should rather say, if it was not correctly executed, he
would show no sensation of pleasure. But the most ex-
traordinary circumstance in this case is, that he was most
evidently delighted with those passages in which the com-
poser displayed his science in modulating the different
keys. When such passages happened to be executed
with precision, he could scarcely repress the emotions of
pleasure which he received within any bounds; for the
delight he evinced seemed to border on ecstasy.
""*
§ 104. Other striking instances of habits of touch.
The power of the touch will increase in proportion to the
necessity of a reliance on it. The more frequent the re-
sort to it, the stronger will be the habit; but the necessity
of this frequent reference to it will be found to be реси.
liarly great where a person is deprived of two of his other
It is noticed of James Mitchell, whose case has
been already referred to, that he distinguished such arti-
cles as belonged to himself from the property of others
by this sense. Although the articles were of the same
form and materials with those of others, it would seem
that he was not at a loss in identifying what was his own
senses.
* London Quarterly Review, vol. xxvi., p. 404.
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
147
-
It will be recollected that he could neither see nor hear,
and was, of course, speechless. He was obliged, therefore,
to depend chiefly on the touch. This sense was the prin-
cipal instrument he made use of in forming an acquaint-
ance with the strangers who frequently visited him. And
what is particularly remarkable, he actually explored by
it, at an early period, a space round his father's residence
of about two hundred yards in extent, to any part of which
he was in the practice of walking fearlessly and without
a guide whenever he pleased.
It is related of the deaf and blind girl in the Hartford
Asylum, that it is impossible to displace a single article
in her drawers without her perceiving and knowing it;
and that, when the baskets of linen are weekly brought
from the laundress, she selects her own garments without
hesitation, however widely they may be dispersed among
the mass. This is probably owing, at least in great part,
to habits of touch, by means of which the sense is ren-
dered exceedingly acute.-Diderot has even gone so far
as to conjecture, that persons deprived of both sight and
hearing would so increase the sensibility of touch as to
locate the seat of the soul in the tips of the fingers.
§ 105. Habits considered in relation to the sight.
The law of habit affects the sight also. By a course
of training this sense seems to acquire new power. The
length and acuteness of vision in the mariner who has
long traversed the ocean, has been frequently referred to.
A writer in the North American Review (July, 1833)
says he once "knew a man in the Greek Island of Hy-
dra, who was accustomed to take his post every day for
thirty years on the summit of the island, and look out for
the approach of vessels; and, although there were over
three hundred sail belonging to the island, he would tell
the name of each one as she approached with unerring
certainty, while she was still at such a distance as to pre-
sent to a common eye only a confused white blur upon
the clear horizon." There are numerous instances to
the same effect, occasioned by the situations in which men
are placed, and the calls for the frequent exercise of the
sight. The almost intuitive vision of the skilful engineer
148
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
is, beyond doubt, in most cases merely a habit. He has
so often fixed his eye upon those features in a country
which have a relation to his peculiar calling, that he in-
stantly detects the bearing of a military position, its sus-
ceptibility of defence, its facilities of approach and re-
treat, &c.
GRE
No man is born without the sense of touch, but many
are born without the sense of hearing; and, wherever this
is the case, we are entitled to look for habits of sight.
Persons under such circumstances naturally and necessa-
rily rely much on the visual sense, whatever aids may be
had by them from the touch. Hence habits; and these
imply increased quickness and power wherever they ex-
ist. It is a matter of common remark, that the keenness
of visual observation in the DEAF and DUMB is strikingly
increased by their peculiar circumstances. Shut out from
the intercourse of speech, they read the minds of men in
their movements, gestures, and countenances. They notice
with astonishing quickness, and apparently without any
effort, a thousand things which escape the regards of oth-
ers. This fact is undoubtedly the foundation of the chief
encouragement which men have to attempt the instruction
of that numerous and unfortunate class of their fellow-be-
ings. They can form an opinion of what another says to
them by the motion of the lips, and sometimes even with
a great degree of accuracy. That this last, however, is
common it is not necessary to assert; that it is possible,
we have the testimony of well-authenticated facts. In
one of his letters, Bishop Burnet mentions to this effect
the case of a young lady of Geneva.-" At two years
old," he says, "it was perceived that she had lost her
hearing, and ever since, though she hears great noises,
yet hears nothing of what is said to her; but, by observing
the motion of the lips and mouths of others, she acqui-
red so many words, that out of these she has formed a sort
of jargon, in which she can hold conversation whole days
with those who can speak her language. She knows no-
thing of what is said to her unless she sees the motion of
their lips that speak to her; one thing will appear the
strangest part of the whole narrative. She has a sister
with whom she has practised her language more than
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
149
with anybody else, and in the night, by laying her hand
on her sister's mouth, she can perceive by that what she
says, and so can discourse with her in the dark." (Lon-
don Quarterly Review, vol. xxiv., p. 399.)
Such are the views which have been opened to us in
considering the law of HABIT in connexion with the sen-
ses; and we may venture to say, with confidence, that
they are exceedingly worthy of notice. There are two
suggestions which they are especially fitted to call up.
They evince the striking powers of the human mind, its
irrepressible energies, which no obstacles can bear down.
They evince also the benevolence of our Creator, who
opens in the hour of misery new sources of comfort, and
compensates for what we have not by increasing the
power and value of what we have.
§ 106. Sensations may possess a relative as well as positive increase of
power.
There remains a remark of some importance to be made
in connexion with the general principle which has been
brought forward, and as in some measure auxiliary to it;
for it will help to explain the more striking instances of
habits, if any should imagine that the fact of mere rep-
etition is not sufficient to account for them. Our sensa-
tions and perceptions may acquire not only a direct and
positive, but a relative and virtual increase of power.
This remark is thus explained. We shall hereafter see
the truth of an important principle to this effect, that there
will be a weakness of remembrance in any particular case
in proportion to the want of interest in it. Now hundreds
and thousands of our sensations and perceptions are not
remembered because we take no interest in them. Of
course they are the same, relatively to our amount of
knowledge and our practice, as if they had never existed
at all. But when we are placed in some novel situation,
or when, in particular, we are deprived of any one of the
senses, the pressure of our necessities creates that interest
which was wanting before. Then we delay upon, and
mark, and remember, and interpret a multitude of eva-
nescent intimations which were formerly neglected. The
senses thus acquire a very considerable relative power and
N 2
150
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
value. And, in order to make out a satisfactory explana-
tion of some instances of habits, it is perhaps necessary
that this relative increase should be added to the direct
and positive augmentation of vigour and quickness, result-
ing from mere repetition or exercise.
§ 107. Of habits as modified by particular callings or arts.
Hitherto it has been our chief object to examine habits
in their relation to the senses separately; it is proper,
also, to take a general view of them, as formed and
modified by the particular callings and employments of
men. Habits of perception are frequently formed under
such circumstances, where all the senses are not only pos-
sessed, but where they exist with their ordinary aptitudes
and powers. In consequence of the habits which he has
been called upon to form by his particular situation, a
farmer of a tolerable degree of experience and discern-
ment requires but a slight inspection in order to give an
opinion on the qualities of a piece of land, and its suit-
ableness for a settlement. A skilful printer will at once
notice everything of excellence or of deficiency in the
mechanical execution of a printed work.-The same re-
sults are found in all who practise the fine arts.
An ex-
perienced painter at once detects a mannerism in colour-
ing, combinations and contrasts of light and shade, and
peculiarities of form, proportion, or position, which infalli-
bly escape a person of more limited experience.
Dr. Reid speaks on this subject in the following char-
acteristic manner." Not only men, but children, idiots,
and brutes, acquire by habit many perceptions which they
had not originally. Almost every employment in life
hath perceptions of this kind that are peculiar to it. The
shepherd knows every sheep of his flock, as we do our
acquaintance, and can pick them out of another flock one
by one. The butcher knows by sight the weight and
quality of his beeves and sheep before they are killed.
The farmer perceives by his eye very nearly the quantity
of hay in a rick, or of corn in a heap. The sailor sees
the burden, the build, and the distance of a ship at sea,
while she is a great way off. Every man accustomed to
writing, distinguishes acquaintances by their handwriting
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
151
1
as he does by their faces. And the painter distinguishes
by the works of his art the style of all the great masters.
In a word, acquired perception is very different in differ-
ent persons, according to the diversity of objects about
which they are employed, and the application they bestow
in observing them."*
§ 108. The law of habit considered in reference to the perception of the
outlines and forms of objects.
Before leaving the subject of Habit, considered as in-
fluencing Sensation and Perception, there is one other
topic which seems to be entitled to a brief notice; we re-
fer to the manner in which we perceive the outlines and
forms of bodies. In discussing the subject of Attention,
Mr. Stewart, in connexion with his views on that subject,
introduces some remarks in respect to vision. He makes
this supposition, That the eye is fixed in a particular po-
sition, and the picture of an object is painted on the ret-
ina. He then starts this inquiry: Does the mind per-
ceive the complete figure of the object at once, or is this
perception the result of the various perceptions we have
of the different points in the outline ?-He holds the opin-
ion, that the perception is the result of our perceptions of
the different points in the outline, which he adopts as nat-
urally consequent on such views as the following. The
outline of every body is made up of points or smallest
visible portions; no two of these points can be in pre-
cisely the same direction; therefore every point by itself
constitutes just as distinct an object of attention to the
mind, as if it were separated by some interval of empty
space from all the other points. The conclusion there-
fore is, as every body is made up of parts, and as the
perception of the figure of the whole object implies a
knowledge of the relative situation of the different parts
with respect to each other, that such perception is the re-
sult of a number of different acts of attention.
But if we adopt this view of Mr. Stewart, it is incum-
bent upon us to show how it happens that we appear to
see the object at once. The various facts which have
been brought forward in this chapter, appear to furnish
* Reid's Inquiry into the Human Mind, chap. vi., § 20.
152
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
us with a solution of this question. The answer is, that
the acts of perception are performed with such rapidity,
that the effect with respect to us is the same as if it were
instantaneous. A habit has been formed; the glance of
the mind, in the highest exercise of that habit, is indescri-
bably quick; time is virtually annihilated; and separate
moments are to our apprehension of them crowded into
one.
§ 109. Notice of some facts which favour the above doctrine.
G
Some persons will probably entertain doubts of Mr.
Stewart's explanation of the manner in which we per-
ceive the outlines of objects; but there are various cir-
cumstances which tend to confirm it.-When we look for
the first time on any object which is diversified with gau-
dy colours, the mind is evidently perplexed with the va-
riety of perceptions which arise; the view is indistinct,
which would not be the case if there were only one, and
that an immediate perception. And even in paintings,
which are of a more laudable execution, the effects at the
first perception will be similar.
C
But there is another fact, which comes still more di-
rectly to the present point. We find that we do not have
as distinct an idea, at the first glance, of a figure of a
hundred sides, as we do of a triangle or square. But we
evidently should, if the perception of visible figure were
the immediate consequence of the picture on the retina,
and not the combined result of the separate perceptions
of the points in the outline. Whenever the figure is very
simple, the process of the mind is so very rapid that the
perception seems to be instantaneous. But when the
sides are multiplied beyond a certain number, the inter-
val of time necessary for these different acts of attention
becomes perceptible. We are then distinctly conscious
that the mind labours from one part of the object to an-
other, and that some time elapses before we grasp it as a
whole.
§ 110. Additional illustrations of Mr. Stewart's doctrine.
These views and illustrations are still further confirmed
by some interesting and, perhaps, more decisive facts. In
HABITS OF SENSATION AND PERCEPTION.
153
1807, Sir Everard Home, well known for his various phil-
osophical publications, read before the Royal Society an
account of two blind children whom he had couched for
the cataract. One of these was John Salter. Upon this
boy various experiments were made, for the purpose,
among other things, of ascertaining whether the sense of
sight does originally, and of itself alone, give us a knowl-
edge of the true figure of bodies. Some of the facts
elicited under these circumstances have a bearing upon
the subject now before us. In repeated instances on the
day of his restoration to sight, the boy called square and
triangular bodies, which were presented to the visual
sense merely, round. On a square body being presented
to him, he expressed a desire to touch it.
"This being
refused, he examined it for some time, and said at last
that he had found a corner, and then readily counted the
four corners of the square; and afterward, when a trian-
gle was shown him, he counted the corners in the same
way; but, in doing so, his eye went along the ege from
corner to corner, naming them as he went along. On
the thirteenth day after the cataract was removed, the vis-
ual power he had acquired was so small that he could
not, by sight, tell a square from a circle, without pre-
viously directing his sight to the corners of the square
figure as he did at first, and thus passing from corner to
corner, and counting them one by one. It was noticed
that the sight seemed to labour slowly onward from one
point and angle to another, as if it were incapable of em-
bracing the outline by a simultaneous and undivided
movement. The process, however, became more and
more easy and rapid, until the perception, which at first
was obviously made up of distinct and successive acts,
came to be in appearance (and we must suppose it was
only in appearance) a concentrated and single one.
""
It was the same with Caspar Hauser. It is remarked
by his biographer, that, whenever a person was introduced
to him (this was probably soon after his release from his
prison), he went up very close to him, regarded him with
a sharp, staring look, and noticed particularly each dis-
tinct part of his face, such as the forehead, eyes, nose,
mouth, and chin. He then collected and consolidated
154
MUSCULAR HABITS.
all the different parts of the countenance, which he had
noticed separately and piece by piece, into one whole.
And it was not till after this process that he seemed to
have a knowledge of the countenance or face, in distinc-
tion from the parts of the face.
CHAPTER IX.
Mits
§ 111. Instances in proof of the existence of muscular habits.
FROM habits, considered as affecting the senses, the tran-
sition is easy to MUSCULAR HABITS. On this subject, there-
fore, we shall now offer a few remarks.-Of the fact that
such habits exist, it is presumed no doubt can be gener-
ally entertained. Muscular habits may be detected in the
gait and in the speech of men generally; they are found
with specific characteristics in particular classes of men;
every mechanic forms them, and they vary in their aspect
with his particular business. Hence the enlarged and
powerful neck of the porter, the strong and brawny arm
of the blacksmith, and the particular habitudes of all their
MUSCULAR HABITS.
movements.
But we will not delay on this part of the subject any
further than to point out one or two familiar instances.
Every man's handwriting is a striking instance and a
proof of Muscular habit. In acquiring that art, the mus-
cles have undergone a complete system of instruction.
That instruction and training they practically and punc-
tually regard ever afterward; so much so that we can
tell a man's writing to which we are accustomed almost
as readily as we recognise the man himself when we see
him.-Again, walking is an instance and illustration of
muscular habits. The process of walking is an easy one;
but it is made so by a habit, founded upon a long and
difficult training; and every man has his particular habit
or method of walking. We see evidence that habit is
involved in walking in children, who obviously do not
MUSCULAR HABITS.
155
walk by mere instinct, but learn to do it by repeated
experiments made upon the muscles of motion. Not long
since, a singular fact came to the knowledge of the wri-
ter, which confirms this remark. A man was accident-
ally thrown from his cart, and the wheel of the cart pass-
ed over his neck and injured his spine. For six weeks
he was destitute of the power of sensation and motion.
About that time his sensation was restored, and the va-
rious parts of the body were again subjected to the gen-
eral control of the will. But he could not walk nor use
his arms to any profitable purpose; not because he was
destitute of the voluntary and muscular power, but be-
cause he unexpectedly found himself at a loss to deter-
mine what particular muscles to employ, in order to pro-
duce the desired result. If he wished, for example, to
use an extensor muscle in the arm or leg, he was just as
likely to use a flexor as the one he intended. In other
words, he was about as likely to bend his arm, or to turn
his leg in or out, as to straighten them, and it was only
by repeated experiments he could ascertain the particu-
lar muscles which he wished to use. In everything re-
lating to bodily action, he was thrown back into the con-
dition of early childhood, and it was not till after a long
and tedious process of experimenting on the numerous
muscles of motion, that he was enabled to walk and to
labour as he was accustomed to do before his injury.
There are, then, muscular habits as well as habits of sen-
sation and perception.-But the subject of these habits is
introduced here, although the train of thought seemed
naturally to lead to it, not so much for its own sake as
in consequence of its connexion with volition.
§ 112. Muscular habits regarded by some writers as involuntary.
It seems to have been the opinion of some writers
(among others of Drs. Reid and Hartley), that bodily or
muscular habits operate in many cases without design
and volition on the part of the person who has formed
them; and that, as they are without any attendant thought,
without any preceding mental operation, such bodily acts
are to be considered as purely mechanical or automatic.
They endeavour to explain and confirm their views by
156
MUSCULAR HABITS.
the instance of a person learning to play on the harpsi-
chord. When a person first begins to learn, it is admit-
ted by all that there is an express act of volition prece-
ding every motion of the fingers. By degrees, the motions
appear to cling to each other mechanically; we are no
longer conscious of volitions preceding and governing
them. In other words, there is nothing left but the mo-
tions; there is no act of the mind; the performance, ad-
mirable as it is, has the same character and the same mer-
it with that of the action of a well-contrived machine.
§ 113. Objections to the doctrine of involuntary muscular habits.
In replying to these views, it may be safely admitted
that, in playing the harpsichord and some other musical
instruments, we have not always a distinct remembrance
of volitions, and consequently the muscular effort has
sometimes the appearance of being independent of the
will. But this mere appearance is not sufficient to com-
mand our assent to the doctrine advanced by these writers
until the four following objections be set aside.
(1.) The supposition that the acts in question are au-
tomatic is unnecessary.-If it be true, as there is so much
reason to believe, that habit is a general law of our na-
ture, then it may be regarded as applicable not only to
the muscular efforts, but to the preceding volitions them-
selves. It is implied in this view (supposing it to be a
correct one), that such volitions may be very rapid, so as
scarcely to arrest our attention a moment. Now the nat-
ural result of such slight attention will be, that they will
exist and pass away without being remembered. These
considerations are sufficient to explain the mere appear-
ance which is admitted to exist, but which Reid and
Hartley attempt to explain by an utter denial of the put-
ting forth of volitions at all. But, if this be the case,
then the supposition that the acts in question are auto-
matic and involuntary, is an unnecessary one.
(2.) The most rapid performers are able when they
please to play so slowly, that they can distinctly observe
every act of the will in the various movements of the fin-
gers. And when they have checked their motions so as
to be able to observe the separate acts of volition, they
MUSCULAR HABITS.
157
can afterward so accelerate those motions, and, of course,
so diminish the power (or, what may be regarded as the
same thing, the time of attending to them), that they can-
not recall the accompanying volitions. This is the ra-
tional and obvious supposition, that there is not an ex-
clusion of volitions, but an inability to recollect them, on
account of the slight degree of attention. Any other
view necessarily implies an inexplicable jumble of vol-
untary and involuntary actions in the same performance.
-
(3.) If there be no volitions, the action must be strict-
ly and truly automatic; that is, it must, from the nature
of the case, be the motion of a machine. It must al-
ways go on invariably in the same track, without turning
to the right hand or to the left. If this be the case in
playing the harpsichord, which is by no means probable,
it is certainly not in some other instances of habits, It must
be supposed, that there is as much rapidity of volition put
forth by the rope-dancer, the equilibrist, the equestrian
actor of the circus, &c., as by the player on the harpsi-
chord. Now if it be admitted that the ordinary steps of
the singular and surprising feats they perform are familiar
to them, still the process is evidently not an invariable
It may be pronounced impossible for them to per-
form experiments which agree in every particular with
preceding experiments. They are necessarily governed
in their volitions and movements by a variety of circum-
stances, which arise on every particular occasion, and
which could not be foreseen. Hence the muscular move-
ments in these cases, being controlled by the will, are not
mechanical; and as we have abundant reason to believe
them often not less rapid in the performance than the
muscular movements are in playing the harpsichord, why
should we consider these last mechanical, and not volun-
tary ?
one.
(4.) If the hypothesis of Reid and Hartley be true,
then there is some general tendency or principle in our
nature by which actions originally voluntary are convert-
ed into mechanical actions. Nor will it be easy to show
why this principle should not extend further than mere
bodily movements. It will be the result of this tendency
to wrest all those powers which it reaches, whether bod-
VOL. I.-O
158
THE CONCEPTIVE POWER.
.
ily or mental, from the control of the will. In other
words, when we consider the extent of its application,
and its wonderful results, wherever it applies, we must
conclude that this principle will infallibly make men
machines, mere automatons, before they have lived out
half their days.-Such are some of the objections to the
doctrine that muscular habits are involuntary.
CHAPTER X.
THE CONCEPTIVE POWER.-
-CONCEPTIONS.
§ 114. Meaning and characteristics of conceptions.
We are now led, as we advance in the general subject
of intellectual states of EXTERNAL ORIGIN, to contemplate
the mind in another view, viz., as employed in giving
rise to what are usually termed CONCEPTIONS. Without
professing to propose a definition in all respects unexcep-
tionable, we are entitled to say, in general terms, that
this name is given to any re-existing sensations whatever
which the mind has felt at some former period, and
to the ideas which we frame of absent objects of per-
ception. Whenever we have conceptions, our sensations
and perceptions are replaced, as Shakspeare expresses it,
in the "mind's eye," without our at all considering at
what time or in what place they first originated. In oth-
er words, they are revived or recalled, and nothing more.
-Using, therefore, the term CONCEPTIONS to express a
class of mental states, and, in accordance with the gen-
eral plan, having particular reference in our remarks here
to such as are of external origin, it may aid in the better
understanding of their distinctive character, if we men-
tion more particularly how they differ both from sensa-
tions and perceptions, and also from remembrances, with
which last some may imagine them to be essentially the
same.
(I.) Conceptions differ from the ordinary sensations and
perceptions in this respect, that both their causes and their

CONCEPTIONS.
159
objects are absent. When the rose, the honeysuckle, or
other odoriferous body is presented to us, the effect which
follows in the mind is termed a sensation. When we af-
terward think of that sensation (as we sometimes express
it), when the sensation is recalled, even though very im-
perfectly, without the object which originally caused it be-
ing present, it then becomes, by the use of language, a
CONCEPTION. And it is the same in any instance of per-
ception. When, in strictness of speech, we are said to
perceive anything, as a tree, a building, or a mountain,
the objects of our perceptions are in all cases before us.
But we may form conceptions of them; they may be re-
called and exist in the mind's eye, however remote they
may be in fact, both in time and place.
(II.) They differ also from remembrances or ideas of
memory. We take no account of the period when those
objects which laid the foundation of them were present;
whereas in every act of the memory there is combined
with the conception a notion of the past. Hence, as
those states of mind which we call conceptions possess
these distinctive marks, they are well entitled to a sep-
arate name.
-
CONCEPTIONS are regulated in their appearance and dis-
appearance by the principles of association, which will
be explained hereafter.-Whenever at any time we may
use the phrase "power of conception" or "faculty of con-
ception," nothing more is to be understood by such ex-
pressions than this, that there is in the mind a susceptibil-
ity of feelings or ideas possessing the marks which we
have ascribed to this class. In other words, the Concep-
tive power is not that power by which we originate
things or discover them absolutely for the first time, but
that by which we recall or revive in the mind those im-
pressions which we have previously received through the
medium of the senses.
§ 115. Of conceptions of objects of sight.
One of the striking facts in regard to our conceptions
is, that we can far more easily conceive of the objects of
some senses than of others. He who has beheld the pyr-
amids of Egypt and the imposing remains of Grecian
160
THE CONCEPTIVE POWER.
temples, or has visited among nature's still greater works
the towering heights of the Alps and the cataract of Niag-
ara, will never afterward be at a loss in forming a vivid
conception of those interesting objects. The visual per-
ceptions are so easily and so distinctly recalled, that it is
hardly too much to say of them that they seem to exist as
permanent pictures in the mind. It is related of Carsten
Niebuhr, a well-known traveller in the East, that, in ex-
treme old age, after he had become blind, he entertained
his visiters with interesting details of what he had seen
many years before at Persepolis; describing the walls,
on which the inscriptions and bas-reliefs of which he
spoke were found, just as one would describe a building
which he had recently visited. His son, who has given
an account of his life, remarks, in connexion with this
fact, we could not conceal our astonishment. He said
to us, that, as he lay blind upon his bed, the images of all
that he had seen in the East were ever present to his
soul; and it was therefore no wonder that he should
speak of them as of yesterday. In like manner, there
was vividly reflected to him, in the hours of stillness, the
nocturnal view of the deep Asiatic heavens, with their
brilliant host of stars, which he had so often contempla-
ted, or else their blue and lofty vault by day; and this
was his greatest enjoyment.
66
""
-
There seems to be less vividness in the conceptions of
sound, touch, taste, and smell, particularly the last three.
Every one knows that it is difficult in ordinary cases to
recall with much distinctness a particular pain which we
have formerly experienced, or a particular taste or smell.
The fact that the perceptions of sight are more easily and
distinctly recalled than others may be thus partially ex-
plained.-Visible objects, or, rather, the outlines of them,
are complex; that is, they are made up of a great number
of points or very small portions. Hence the conception
which we form of such an object as a whole is aided by
the principles of association. The reason is obvious. As
every original perception of a visible object is a com-
pound made up of many parts, whenever we subsequent-
ly have a conception of it, the process is the same; we
have a conception of a part of the object, and the prin-
CONCEPTIONS.
161
ciples of association help us in conceiving of the other
parts. Association connects the parts together; it pre-
sents them to the mind in their proper arrangement, and
helps to sustain them there.
ses.
We are not equally aided by the laws of association
in forming our conceptions of the objects of the other sen-
In the latter case, the Associative power avails itself
of the aid of the principle of contiguity in time merely;
while, in the former (that is to say, in the restoration of
visual sensations and perceptions), it avails itself of the
additional principle of contiguity in place.
§ 116. Of the influence of habit on our conceptions.
It is another circumstance worthy of notice in regard
to conceptions, that the power of forming them depends
in some measure on HABIT.-A few instances will help to
illustrate the statement, that what is termed Habit may
extend to the susceptibility of conceptions; and the first
to be given will be of conceptions of sound. Our con-
ceptions of sounds are not, in general, remarkably distinct,
as was intimated in the last section. It is nevertheless
true, that a person may, by practice, acquire the power of
amusing himself with merely reading written music.
Having frequently associated the sounds with the notes,
he has at last such a strong conception of the sounds,
that he experiences by merely reading the notes a very
sensible pleasure. It is for the same reason, viz., because
our conceptions are strengthened by repetition or practice,
that readers may enjoy the harmony of poetical numbers
without at all articulating the words. In both cases they
truly hear nothing; there is no actual sensation of sound,
and yet there is a virtual enunciation and melody in the
mind. It seems to be on this principle we are enabled
to explain the fact, that Beethoven composed some of his
most valued musical pieces after he had become entirely
deaf; originating harmonic combinations so profound and
exquisite as to require the nicest ear as a test, at the very
time he was unable to hear anything himself.
W
§ 117. Influence of habit on conceptions of sight.
That our power of forming conceptions is strengthened
02
162
THE CONCEPTIVE POWER.
by habit, is capable of being further illustrated from the
sight. A person who has been accustomed to drawing
retains a much more perfect notion of a building, land-
scape, or other visible object, than one who has not. A
portrait painter, or any person who has been in the prac-
tice of drawing such sketches, can trace the outlines of
the human form with very great ease; it requires hardly
more effort from them than to write their names.-This
point may also be illustrated by the difference which we
sometimes notice in people in their conceptions of colours.
Some are fully sensible of the difference between two
colours when they are presented to them, but cannot
with confidence give names to these colours when they
see them apart, and may even confound the one with the
other. Their original sensations and perceptions are sup-
posed to be equally distinct with those of other persons;
but their subsequent conception of the colours is far from
being so. This defect arises partly at least from want of
practice; that is to say, from the not having formed a
habit. The persons who exhibit this weakness of con-
ception have not been compelled by their situation, nor
by mere inclination, to distinguish and to name colours
so much as is common.
◊ 118. Of the subserviency of our conceptions to description.
It is highly favourable to the talent for lively descrip-
tion when a person's conceptions are readily suggested
and are distinct. Even such a one's common conversa-
tion differs from that of those whose conceptions arise
more slowly and are more faint. One man, whether in
conversation or in written description, seems to place the
object which he wishes to describe directly before us; it
is represented distinctly and to the life. Another, al-
though not wanting in a command of language, is con-
fused and embarrassed amid a multitude of particulars,
which, in consequence of the feebleness of his concep-
tions, he finds himself but half acquainted with; and he
therefore gives us but a very imperfect and confused no-
tion of the thing which he desires to make known.
It has been by some supposed that a person might give
a happier description of an edifice, of a landscape, or oth-
CONCEPTIONS.
163
er object, from the conception than from the actual per-
ception of it. The perfection of a description does not
always consist in a minute specification of circumstances;
in general, the description is better when there is a judi-
cious selection of them. The best rule for making the
selection is to attend to the particulars that make the
deepest impression on our own minds, or, what is the
same thing, that most readily and distinctly take a place
in our conceptions.-When the object is actually before
us, it is extremely difficult to compare the impressions
which different circumstances produce. When we after-
ward conceive of the object, we possess merely the out-
line of it; but it is an outline made up of the most stri-
king circumstances. Those circumstances, it is true, will
not impress all persons alike, but will somewhat vary with
the degree of their taste. But when, with a correct and
delicate taste, any one combines lively conceptions, and
gives a description from those conceptions, he can hardly
fail to succeed in it. And, accordingly, we find here one
great element of poetic power. It is the ability of form-
ing vivid conceptions, which bodies forth
"The forms of things unknown; the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
§ 119. Of conceptions attended with a momentary belief.
Our conceptions are sometimes attended with belief;
when they are very lively, we are apt to ascribe to them a
real outward existence, or believe in them. We do not
undertake to assert that the belief is permanent;
but a
number of facts strongly lead to the conclusion that it
has a momentary existence.
(1.) A painter, in drawing the features and bodily form
of an absent friend, may have so strong a conception, so
vivid a mental picture, as to believe for a moment that
his friend is before him. After carefully recalling his
thoughts at such times, and reflecting upon them, almost
every painter is ready to say that he has experienced
-some illusions of this kind.
"We read," says Dr. Con-
olly, "that when Sir Joshua Reynolds, after being many
hours occupied in painting, walked out into the street,
164
THE CONCEPTIVE POWER.
the lamp-posts seemed to him to be trees, and the men
and women moving shrubs." It is true, the illusion is,
in these cases, very short, because the intensity of con-
ception, which is the foundation of it, can never be kept
up long when the mind is in a sound state. Such in-
tense conceptions are unnatural. And, further, all the
surrounding objects of perception, which no one can al-
together disregard for any length of time, tend to check
the illusion and terminate it.
(2.) When a blow is aimed at any one, although in
sport, and he fully knows it to be so, he forms so vivid a
conception of what might possibly be the effect, that his
belief is for a moment controlled, and he unavoidably
shrinks back from it. This is particularly the case if
the blow approaches the eye. Who can help winking
at such times? It is a proof of our belief being controll-
ed under such circumstances, that we can move our own
hands rapidly in the neighbourhood of the eye, either
perpendicularly or horizontally, and, at the same time,
easily keep our eyelids from motion. But when the mo-
tion is made by another, the conception becomes more
vivid, and a belief of danger inevitably arises. Again,
place a person on the battlements of a high tower; his
reason tells him he is in no danger; he knows he is in
none. But, after all, he is unable to look down from the
battlements without fear; his conceptions are so exceed-
ingly vivid as to induce a momentary belief of danger,
in opposition to all his reasonings.
(3.) When we are in pain from having struck our foot
against a stone, or when pain is suddenly caused in us by
any other inanimate object, we are apt to vent a moment-
ary rage upon it. That is to say, our belief is so affect-
ed for an instant, that we ascribe to it an accountable
existence, and would punish it accordingly. This is ob-
served particularly in children and in savages. It is on
the principle of our vivid conceptions being attended
with belief that poets so often ascribe life, and agency,
and intention to the rains and winds, to storms, and thun-
der, and lightning. How natural are the expressions of
King Lear, overwhelmed with the ingratitude of his
daughters, and standing with his old head bared to the
pelting tempest!
CONCEPTIONS.
165
"Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters;
I tax not you, ye elements, with unkindness;
I never gave you kingdoms, called you children."
(4.) There are persons who are entirely convinced of
the folly of the popular belief of ghosts and other nightly
apparitions, but who cannot be persuaded to sleep in a
room alone, nor go alone into a room in the dark. When-
ever they happen out at night, they are constantly look-
ing on every side; their quickened perceptions behold
images which never had any existence except in their
own minds, and they are the subjects of continual dis-
quiet and even terror.-"It was my misfortune," says
Dr. Priestly, "to have the idea of darkness and the ideas
of invisible, malignant spirits and apparitions very closely
connected in my infancy, and to this day, notwithstand-
ing I believe nothing of those invisible powers, and con-
sequently of their connexion with darkness, or anything
else, I cannot be perfectly easy in every kind of situation
in the dark, though I am sensible I gain ground upon
this prejudice continually."
In all such cases we see the influence of the prejudices
of the nursery.
Persons who are thus afflicted were
taught in early childhood to form conceptions of ghosts,
visible hobgoblins, and unearthly spirits, and the habit
still continues. It is true, when they listen to their rea-
sonings and philosophy, they may well say they do not
believe in such things. But the effect of their philoso-
phy is merely to check their belief; not in ten cases in a
thousand is the belief entirely overcome. Every little
while, in all solitary places, and especially in the dark,
it returns, and, when banished, returns again; otherwise
we cannot give an explanation of the conduct of these
persons.
§ 120. Conceptions which are joined with perceptions.
The belief in our mere conceptions is the more evident
and striking whenever they are at any time joined with
our perceptions.-A person, for instance, is walking in a
field in a foggy morning, and perceives something, no
matter what it is; but he believes it to be a man, and
does not doubt it. In other words, he truly perceives
166
THE CONCEPTIVE POWER.
some object, and, in addition to that perception, has a
mental conception of a man attended with belief. When
he has advanced a few feet further, all at once he per-
ceives that what he conceived to be a man is merely a
stump with a few stones piled on its top. He perceived
at first as plainly, or but little short of it, that it was a
stump, as in a moment afterward; there were the whole
time very nearly the same visible form and the same di-
mensions in his eye. But he had the conception of a
man in his mind at the same moment, which overruled
and annulled the natural effects of the visual perception;
the conception being associated with a present visible ob-
ject, acquired peculiar strength and permanency, so much
so that he truly and firmly believed that a human being
was before him. But the conception has departed, the
present object of perception has taken its place, and it is
now impossible for him to conjure up the phantom, the
reality of which he but just now had no doubt of.
In his Voyage of Discovery to the Arctic Regions,
Captain Ross mentions an incident illustrative of the
power and fruitfulness if our conceptions, when upheld
by the actual presence of objects. It will be recollected
that the immense masses of ice which are found floating
in the Polar Seas often display a variety of the most
brilliant hues. Speaking of one of these icebergs, as
they are called, which he early fell in with, and which
was about forty feet high and a thousand feet long,
"imagination," he says, "painted it in many grotesque
figures; at one time it looked something like a white lion
and horse rampant, which the quick fancy of sailors, in
their harmless fondness for omens, naturally enough sha-
ped into the lion and unicorn of the king's arms, and they
were delighted accordingly with the good luck it seemed
to augur.
""
One of the numerous characters whom Sir Walter
Scott has sketched with so much truth to nature, speaks
of himself as being banished on a certain occasion to
one of the sandy keys of the West Indies, which was re-
puted to be inhabited by malignant demons. This pèr-
son, after acknowledging he had his secret apprehensions
upon their account, remarks, " in open daylight or in ab-
CONCEPTIONS.
167
and the
.
solute darkness, I did not greatly apprehend their ap-
proach, but in the misty dawn of the morning, or when
evening was about to fall, I saw, for the first week of my
abode on the Key, many a dim and undefined spectre—
now resembling a Spaniard, with his capa wrapped
around him, and his huge sombrera, as large as an um-
brella, upon his head-now a Dutch sailor, with his rough
cap and trunk hose-and now an Indian cacique, with
his feathery crown and long lance of cane. I always ap-
proached them, but, whenever I drew near, the phantom
changed into a bush, or a piece of driftwood, or a wreath
of mist, or some such cause of deception."
But it is unnecessary to resort to books for illustrations
of this topic. Multitudes of persons have a conceptive
facility of creations, which is often troublesome and per-
plexing, especially in uncommon situations and in the
night. And in all cases this tendency is greatly strength-
ened whenever it can lay hold of objects, the outlines of
which it can pervert to its own purposes. In instances
of this kind, where the conceptions are upheld, as it were,
by present objects of perception, and receive a sort of
permanency from them, nothing is better known than
that we often exercise a strong and unhesitating belief.
These instances, therefore, can properly be considered as
illustrating and confirming the views in the preceding
section.
§ 121. Conceptions as connected with fictitious representations.
These observations suggest an explanation, at least in
part, of the effects which are produced on the mind by
exhibitions of fictitious distress. In the representation of
tragedies, it must be admitted that there is a general con-
viction of the whole being but a fiction. But, although
persons enter the theatre with this general conviction, it
does not always remain with them the whole time. At
certain peculiarly interesting passages in the poet, and at
certain exhibitions of powerful and well-timed effort in
the actor, this general impression that all is a fiction, fails.
The feelings of the spectator may be said to rush into the
scenes; he mingles in the events; carried away and lost,
he for a moment believes all to be real, and the tears
168
SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS
It
+
V Load posin
gush at the catastrophe which he witnesses. The ex-
planation, therefore, of the emotions felt at the exhibition
of a tragedy, such as indignation, pity, and abhorrence,
is, that at certain parts of the exhibition we have a mo-
mentary belief in the reality of the events which are rép-
resented. And, after the illustrations which have been
given, such a belief cannot be considered impossible.-
The same explanation will apply to the emotions which
follow our reading of tragedies when alone, or any other
natural and affecting descriptions. In the world of con-
ceptions which the genius of the writer conjures up, we
are transported out of the world of real existence, and
for a while fully believe in the reality of what is only an
incantation.
Zo
CHAPTER XI.
SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS OF MENTAL STATES
§ 122. Origin of the distinction of simple and complex.
In looking at our thoughts and feelings as they con-
tinually pass under the review of our internal observa-
tion, we readily perceive that they are not of equal worth;
we do not assign to them the same estimate; one state
of mind is found to be expressive of one thing only, and
that thing, whatever it is, is precise, and definite, and in-
separable; while another state of mind is found to be ex-
pressive of, and virtually equal to, many others. And
hence we are led, not only with the utmost propriety, but
even by a sort of necessity, to make a division of the
whole body of our mental affections into the two classes
of SIMPLE and COMPLEX. Nature herself makes the divis-
ion; it is one of those characteristics which gives to the
mind, in part at least, its greatness; one of those ele-
ments of power without which the soul could not be
what it is, and without a knowledge of which it is dif
ficult to possess a full and correct understanding of it in
other respects.
OF MENTAL STATES.
169
123. Nature and characteristics of simple mental states.
We shall first offer some remarks on those mental
states, which are simple, and shall aim to give an under-
standing of their nature, so far as can be expected on a
subject, the clearness of which depends more on a refer-
ence to our own personal consciousness than on the
teaching of others.
-
Let it be noticed, then, in the first place, that a simple
idea CANNOT BE SEPARATED INTO PARTS.-It is clearly im-
plied in the very distinction between simplicity and com-
plexity, considered in relation to the states of the mind,
that there can be no such separation, no such division.
It is emphatically true of our simple ideas and emotions,
and of all other simple states of the mind, that they are
one and indivisible. Whenever you can detect in them
more than one element, they at once lose their character
of simplicity, and are to be regarded as complex, however
they may have previously appeared. Inseparableness con-
sequently is their striking characteristic; and it may be
added, that they are not only inseparable in themselves,
but are separate from everything else. There is nothing
which can stand as a substitute for them where they are,
or represent them where they are not; they are inde-
pendent unities, constituted exclusively by the mind itself,
having a specific and positive character, but nevertheless
known only in themselves.
§ 124. Simple mental states not susceptible of definition.
Let it be observed, in the second place, that our simple
notions CANNOT BE DEFINED.-This view of them follows
necessarily from what has been said of their oneness and
inseparableness, compared with what is universally un-
derstood by defining. In respect to definitions, it is un-
doubtedly true, that we sometimes use synonymous words,
and call such use a definition; but it is not properly such.
In every legitimate definition, the idea which is to be de-
fined is to be separated, as far as may be thought neces-
sary, into its subordinate parts; and these parts are to be
presented to the mind for its examination, instead of the
original notion, into which they entered. This process
must be gone through in every instance of accurate de-
VOL. I.-P
170
SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS
fining; this is the general and authorized view of def
inition; and it is not easy to see in what else it can well
consist.
But this process will not apply to our simple thoughts
and feelings, because, if there be any such thing as sim-
ple mental states, they are characterized by inseparable-
ness and oneness. And, furthermore, if we define ideas
by employing other ideas, we must count upon meeting
at last with such as shall be ultimate, and will reject all
verbal explanation; otherwise we can never come to an
end in the process. So that the simple mental affections
are not only undefinable in themselves, but, if there were
no such elementary states of mind, there could be no de-
fining in any other case; it would be merely analysis
upon analysis, a process without completion, and a labour
without end; leaving the subject in as much darkness
as when the process was begun.
When we speak of simple ideas and feelings, and a
person, in consequence of our inability to define them, pro-
fesses to be ignorant of the terms we use, we can fre-
quently aid him in understanding them by a statement
of the circumstances, as far as possible, under which the
simple mental state exists. But, having done this, we
can merely refer him to his own senses and conscious-
ness as the only teachers from which he can expect to re-
ceive satisfaction.
◊ 125. Simple mental states representative of a reality.
A third mark or characteristic of simple mental states
is, that they always stand for or REPRESENT A REALITY.
In other words, no simple idea is, in its own nature, de-
lusive or fictitious, but always has something precisely
corresponding to it. It is not always so with complex
ideas; these, as Mr. Locke justly gives us to understand,
are sometimes CHIMERICAL. That is to say, the elements
of which they are composed are so brought together and
combined as to form something of which nature presents
no corresponding reality. If, for instance, a person had
an idea of a body, yellow, or of some other colour, mal-
leable, fixed, possessing, in a word, all the qualities of iron
or of gold, with this difference only of its being lighter
Į
OF MENTAL STATES.
171
than water, it would be what Mr. Locke terms a CHIMER-
ICAL idea; because the combination of the elements here
exists only in the human mind, and not in nature; the
thing has no outward or objective reality. The words
CENTAUR, DRAGON, and HYPOGRIFF, which are the well-
known names for imaginary beings possessing no actual
existence, are expressive of chimerical complex ideas.
These ideas have nothing corresponding to them. But it
is not so with the simple states of the mind. If it were
otherwise, since in our inquiries after truth we naturally
proceed from what is complex to what is simple, there
would be no sure.foundation of knowledge. Whenever,
in our analysis of a subject, we arrive at truly simple
ideas, we have firm footing; there is no mistake, no delu-
sion. Nature, always faithful to her own character, gives
utterance to the truth alone. But man, in combining to-
gether the elements which nature furnishes, does not al
ways avoid mistakes.
G
-
§ 126. Origin of complex notions and their relation to simple.
Our simple states of mind, which we have thus en-
deavoured to explain, were probably first in origin.
There are reasons for considering them as antecedent in
point of time to our complex mental states, although in
many cases it may not be easy to trace the progress of
the mind from the one to the other. The complex no-
tions of external material objects embrace the separate
and simple notions of resistance, extension, hardness, col-
our, taste, and others. As these elementary perceptions
evidently have their origin in distinct and separate senses,
it is but reasonable to suppose that they possess a simple
before they are combined together in a complex exist-
ence. Simple ideas, therefore, may justly be regarded
as antecedent in point of time to those which are com-
plex, and as laying the foundation of them.
Hence we see that it is sufficiently near the truth, and
that it is not improper to speak of our complex ideas, as
derived from, or made up of simple ideas. This is the
well-known language of Mr. Locke on this subject; and
when we consider how much foundation there is for it in
the constitution and operations of the human mind, there
172
SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS
is good reason for retaining it.-Although purely simple
states of the mind are few in number, vast multitudes of
a complex nature are formed from them. The ability
which the mind possesses of originating complex thoughts
and feelings from elementary ones, may be compared to
our power of uniting together the letters of the alphabet
in the formation of syllables and words.
§ 127. Supposed complexness without the antecedence of simple
feelings.
It is possible, that some persons may object to the doc-
trine proposed in the last section, that complex mental
states are subsequent in point of time to those which are
simple; and may be inclined to adopt the opinion, that
some at least of our complex notions are framed at once
and immediately, whenever an occasion presents itself,
and are not necessarily dependant on the prior existence
of any other feelings. When the eye, for instance, opens
on a wide and diversified landscape, they suppose the
whole to be embraced in one complex mental state, the
formation of which is not gradual and susceptible of
measurement by time, but is truly instantaneous. When
we direct our attention to objects of less extent, as a por-
trait, a landscape, or historical painting, they imagine it
to be still more evident that the complexity of mind, cor-
responding to the complexity of the object, is a result
without any antecedent process. Without doubt what
has now been said is in some instances apparently the
case; but this appearance (for we cannot speak of it as
anything more than such) is susceptible of an obvious
explanation, without an abandonment of the general
principle which has been laid down. No one is ignorant
that the mind often passes with exceeding rapidity along
the succcessive objects of its contemplation. This rapid-
ity may in some cases be so great, that no foundation will
be laid for remembrance; and of course,
in such cases,
the complex feeling has the appearance of being formed
without the antecedence of other simple feelings. Often
the eye glances so rapidly over the distinct parts of the
portrait, the historical painting, or even the wide land-
scape, that we are utterly unable in our recollection to
OF MENTAL STATES.
173
detect the successive steps of its progress. There nat-
urally seems, therefore, to be but one view, instead of
distinct and successive glancings of the mind from hill to
hill, from forest to forest, and from one verdant spot to
another, prior to the supposed one and instantaneous
comprehension of the whole. But there is much reason
for saying that this oneness of comprehension is in seem-
ing and appearance only, and not in fact. (See § 106-
108.)
§ 128. The precise sense in which complexness is to be understood.
But while we distinctly assert the frequent complex-
ness of the mental affections, it should be particularly
kept in mind, that they are not to be regarded in the
light of a material compound, where the parts, although
it may sometimes appear to be otherwise, necessarily pos-
sess no higher unity than that of juxtaposition, and, of
course, can be literally separated from each other, and
then put together again. There is nothing of this kind;
neither putting together nor taking asunder, in this literal.
and material sense.-But if our thoughts and feelings are
not made up of others, and are not complex in the ma-
terial sense of the expressions, what then constitutes their
complexness? This inquiry gives occasion for the im-
portant remark, that complexness in relation to the
mind is not literal, but virtual only. What we term a
complex feeling is in itself truly simple; but, at the same
time, it is equal to many others, and is complex only in
that sense. Thought after thought, and emotion follow-
ing emotion, passes through the mind; and, as they are
called forth by the operation of the laws of association,
many of them necessarily have relation to the same ob-
ject. Then there follows a new state of mind, which is
the result of those previous feelings, and is complex in the
sense already explained. That is to say, it is felt by us
to possess a virtual equality to those separate antecedent
thoughts and emotions. Our simple feelings are like
streams coming from different mountains, but meeting and
mingling together at last in the common centre of some
intermediate lake; the tributary fountains are no longer
separable, but have disappeared, and become merged
F 2
174
SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS
and confounded in the bosom of their common resting-
place. Or they may be likened to the cents and dimes
of the American coinage, tens and hundreds of which
are represented by a single EAGLE; and yet the eagle is
not divided into a hundred or thousand parts, but has as
much unity as the numerous pieces for which it stands.
The language which expresses the composition and
complexity of thought is, therefore, to be regarded as
wholly metaphorical when applied to the mind, and is
not to be taken in its literal meaning. We are under the
necessity of employing in this case, as in others, language
which has a material origin, but we shall not be led
astray by it if we carefully attend to what has been said,
and endeavour to aid our conception of it by a reference
to our internal experience.
§ 129. Illustrations of analysis as applied to the mind.
The subject of the preceding section will be the better
understood by the consideration of analysis as applicable
to the mind. As we do not combine literally, so we do
not untie or separate literally; as there is no literal com-
plexness, so there is no literal resolution or analysis of it.
Nevertheless, we have a meaning when we speak of ana-
lyzing our thoughts and feelings. And what is it?
What are we to understand by the term analysis?
Although this subject is not without difficulty, both in
the conception and in the expression of it, it is suscepti-
ble of some degree of illustration.-It will be remember-
ed that there may be analysis of material bodies. The
chemist analyzes when he takes a piece of glass, which
appears to be one substance, and finds that it is not one,
but is separable into silicious and alkaline matter. He
takes other bodies, and separates them in like manner;
and, whenever he does this, the process is rightly called
analysis.
Now we apply the same term to the mind; but the
thing expressed by it, the process gone through, is not the
same. All we can say is, there is something like this.
We do not resolve and separate a complex thought as we
do a piece of glass or other material body into its parts;
we are utterly unable to do it, if we should seriously
OF MENTAL STATES.
175
make the attempt; every mental state is in itself and in
fact simple and indivisible, and is complex only virtually.
Complex notions are the results rather than the com-
pounds of former feelings; and, though not literally made
up of parts, have the relation to them which any mate-
rial whole has to the elements composing it, and in that
particular sense may be said to comprehend or embrace
the subordinate notions. Mental analysis accordingly
concerns merely this relation. We perform such an anal-
ysis when, by the aid of our reflection and consciousness,
we are able to indicate those separate and subordinate
feelings, to which, in our conception of it, the complex
mental state is virtually equal.
The term GOVERNMENT, for instance, when used in ref-
erence to the mental perception of the thing thus named,
expresses a complex state of the mind; we may make
this mental state, which is in fact only one, although it is
virtually more than one, a subject of contemplation; and
we are said to analyze it when we are able to indicate
those separate and more elementary notions, without the
existence and antecedence of which it could not have
been formed by the mind. We do not literally take the
complex state in pieces, but we designate other states of
mind, which every one's knowledge of the origin of
thought convinces him must have preceded it, such as
the ideas of power, right, obligation, command, and the
relative notions of superior and inferior.
§ 130. Complex notions of external origin.
The doctrine of simplicity and complexness of mental
states is applicable, in both its forms, to the Intellective
and Sensitive parts of our nature; in other words, there
may be a complex affection or passion, as well as a com-
plex perception. The acts of the Will, the other great
Division of the mental nature, are always simple. When
we consider the subject in reference to the intellect alone,
we may add further, that there is complexity of the In-
tellect, both in its internal and external action; and it
seems proper, in this connexion, to say something in par-
ticular of COMPLEX NOTIONS of EXTERNAL ORIGIN.
What we term our simple ideas are representative of
176
SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS
the parts of objects only. The sensations of colour, such
as red, white, yellow; the original intimations from the
touch, such as resistance, extension, hardness, and soft-
ness, do not, in themselves considered, give us a knowl-
edge of substances, but only of the parts, attributes, or el-
ements of substances. Accordingly, the ideas which we
have of the various objects of the external world are
for the most part complex. We speak of a house, a
tree, a flower, a plant, a mineral, an animal; and in none
of these cases are the ideas which we have simple; but,
on the contrary, embrace a considerable number of ele-
ments.
§ 131. Of objects contemplated as wholes.
In point of fact, the various external objects which
come under our notice are presented to us as wholes;
and, as such (whatever may have been the original pro-
cess leading to that result), we very early contemplate
them.-Take, for instance, a LOADSTONE. In their ordinary
and common thoughts upon it (the result, probably, of
some antecedent and very early training), men undoubt-
edly contemplate it as a whole; the state of mind which
has reference to it embraces it as such. This complex
notion, like all others which are complex, is virtually
equal to a number of others of a more elementary char-
acter.-Hence, when we are called upon to give an ac-
count of the loadstone, we can return no other answer
than by an enumeration of its elements. It is something
which has weight, colour, hardness, friability, power to
draw iron, and whatever else we discover in it.
We use the term GOLD. This is a complex term, and
implies a complexity in the corresponding mental state.
But if we use the word gold, or any other synonymous
word, in the hearing of a man who has neither seen that
substance nor had it explained to him, he will not un-
derstand what is meant to be conveyed. We must enter
into an analysis, and show that it is a combination of the
qualities of yellowness, great weight, fusibility, ductility,
&c. We look upward to the sun in the heavens. But
what should we know of that great aggregate, if we
could not contemplate it in the elements of form and ex-
OF MENTAL STATES.
177
tension, of brightness and heat, of roundness and regu-
larity of motion?—All the ideas, therefore, which we
form of external objects considered as wholes, are com-
plex; and all such complex notions are composed of
those which are simple.
§ 132. Something more in external objects than mere attributes or
qualities.
•
But it is to be anticipated that we shall expose our-
selves here to be pressed by certain inquiries. It will be
said, perhaps, that this makes the whole visible creation a
mere congregation (susceptible undoubtedly of being ar-
ranged into classes, but, after all, a mere congregation)
of attributes, qualities, or properties. What we behold
yonder, it will perhaps be alleged as an illustration of
the objection, is mere greenness, resistance, hardness,
form, &c., but nothing more; it is not a TREE. In the
firmament there is brightness, and heat, and roundness,
and uniformity of motion, but that is all; we mistake
when we suppose there is a reality, an actual SUN.
word, this view of external objects brings us back to one
of the fundamental doctrines of Pyrrho, that there is no-
thing external to us but certain uniform appearances,
which are mistaken for existences and realities without
being so.
In a
It is, perhaps, enough to say in regard to this objection,
that we reject the idea of its being rightfully applied to
ourselves, because we do not hesitate to admit and assert
the truth of an existence (however difficult it may be to
the mind fully to conceive of it) independently of these
qualities; in other words, that there is something more,
in point of fact, than what is outwardly exhibited. On
a careful examination of our feelings, we shall probably
find it impossible even to conceive of a quality without a
subject, or an attribute without some object to which it
belongs. We believe (and we cannot help believing)
that there must necessarily be some foundation, some ba-
sis, which is the support of such attributes and qualities.
We may not be able to tell precisely what it is; we may
not have it in our power to describe or define it; but still
it exists. The quality, therefore, and the existence to
178
SIMPLICITY AND COMPLEXNESS
which it belongs; the outward accessible presentation
and the subjective nature or essence, are not, in the view
of the mind, identical. (See § 93–96.)
-
It will, then, perhaps be asked, Why do we not direct
our attention at once to the true subjective existence, to
matter itself, and not delay upon its appendages? The
answer is, we cannot; the mind has its limits. It might
be asked, with the same reason, Why we do not look di-
rectly into the existence and essence of the Deity, instead
of studying Him in his works and intermediate manifesta-
tions? It might be asked, Why we do not directly con-
template the existence and essence of the mind, instead
of studying it in its attributes and operations? The an-
swer in all these cases is the same, viz., that we are un-
able to do it. And yet we believe in the existence and
reality of a God, although we know him only through
his manifestations and attributes. We believe in the ex-
istence and reality of the human mind, although the di-
rect subject of our knowledge is not the mind itself, but
merely its attributes and operations. It is the same in re-
gard to the material world. The qualities and proper-
ties of bodies are the signs or marks which are immedi-
ately presented to our notice. They form the occasion.
on which the mind, by its power of ORIGINAL SUGGESTION,
assures us of something more than the signs which im-
mediately fall under our notice. This something, which
we cannot help regarding as an actual and independent
reality, we call variously a material subject, material ex-
istence, matter, &c. Nor is the idea which we form of
matter to be regarded as an indistinct one, although, be-
ing simple, each one must depend for the clearness of his
perception of it on himself.
►
§ 133. Imperfections of our complex notions of external objects.
Although the mind of man is to be regarded, in the
great ordering and constitution of things, as in some im-
portant sense the representative of the material universe,
it must still be acknowledged to be a very imperfect one.
It is as true in nature as in religion, that we know only in
part. Men have no doubt been always advancing in
knowledge, but when we compare our present acquisi-
OF MENTAL STATES.
179
tions with our former ignorance, we may well anticipate
that the progress of the future will lay the foundation of
another comparison, not so flattering to the present gen-
eration. This view will not only apply to knowledge in
the mass, but will hold good on a smaller scale, of every
complex notion which we form.-Take, for instance, the
complex idea of Gold. The thought is understood to be the
representative of the thing. But is it in this case a true
one? If we should admit it to be so as far as it goes, still
it is evidently not a full or perfect one; nor can we re-
gard it as such without suffering ourselves to be led into
error. In the complicated notion to which men agree in
giving that name, we combine the simple ideas of yel-
lowness, weight, hardness, malleability, and perhaps oth-
ers; but it is only reasonable to suppose that no person
combines, in his conception of it, all its properties.
Philosophy may justly boast of her achievements, with-
out pretending that nature has made a revelation of all
her secrets. Can any man explain the mode of the con-
nexion between mind and matter? This connexion is
obviously a secret not yet cleared up. Can any man as-
sert positively what that cohesion or attraction is which
holds together the parts of gold, iron, and other material
bodies? That is a subject also on which nature has re-
served to herself something farther to say. One body
impinging upon another puts it in motion; and in our
wisdom we give it a name; we call it motion by impulse.
But can any man tell what motion is? Still more, can
he point out how motion passes from one body to anoth-
er, when the particles of those bodies come in contact,
if, indeed, there can be any actual contact ?—Such are the
doubts that press upon us wherever we turn our eyes.
But this is not said to discourage inquiry. The first step
in laying a good and broad foundation is to be fully sen-
sible of our ignorance and of the mind's limits.
180
ABSTRACTION.
CHAPTER XII.
ABSTRACTION.
134. Abstraction implied in the analysis of complex ideas.
THE remarks which have been made in the course of
the foregoing chapter, on the analysis and examination of
our Complex Intellectual states, naturally lead to the
consideration of another subject, in some respects inti-
mately connected with that topic. When we have once
formed a complex notion (no matter at what period, in
what way, or of what kind), it not unfrequently happens
that we desire, for various reasons, to examine more par-
ticularly some of its parts. Very frequently this is abso-
lutely necessary to the full understanding of it. Al-
though undoubtedly its elementary parts once came under
review, that time is now long past; it has become im-
portant to institute a new inspection, to take each simple
notion involved in it, and examine it by itself. And this
is done by means of the process of ABSTRACTION, and in
no other way.
Mak
By the aid of that process, our complex notions, how-
ever comprehensive they may be, are susceptible, if one
may be allowed so to speak, of being taken to pieces,
and the elementary parts may be abstracted or separated
from each other; that is, they are made subjects of con-
sideration apart from other ideas, with which they are or-
dinarily found to be associated. And hence, whenever
this is the case in respect to the states of the mind, they
are sometimes called ABSTRACTIONS, and still more fre-
quently are known by the name of ABSTRACT IDEAS.
For the purpose of distinctness in what we have to say,
they may be divided into the two classes of Particular
and General; that is to say, in some cases the abstrac-
tion relates only to a single idea or element, in others it
includes more.-General Abstract Ideas (or the notions
which we form of Genera and Species) will form a dis-
tinct subject of consideration.
ABSTRACTION.
181
§ 135. Instances of particular abstract ideas.
We shall proceed, therefore, to remark here on Partic-
ular abstractions. Of this class, the notions which we
form of the different kinds of colours may be regarded
as instances. For example, we hold in our hand a rose
it has extension, colour, form, fragrance. The mind is
so deeply occupied with the colour as almost wholly to
neglect the other qualities. This is a species of abstrac-
tion, although perhaps an imperfect one, because, when
an object is before us, it is difficult, in our most attentive
consideration of any particular quality or property, to
withdraw the mind wholly from the others. When, on
the contrary, any absent object of perception occurs to
us, when we think of or form a conception of it, our
thoughts will readily fix upon the colour of such object,
and make that the subject of consideration, without par-
ticularly regarding its other qualities, such as weight,
hardness, taste, form, &c. We may also distinguish in
any body (either when present or still more perfectly
when absent) its solidity from its extension, or we may
direct our attention to its weight, or its length, or breadth,
or thickness, and make any one of these a distinct object
in our thoughts.
And hence, as it is a well-known fact that the prop-
erties of any body may be separated in the view and ex-
amination of the mind, however closely they may be con-
nected in their appropriate subjects, we may lay down
this statement in respect to the states of the mind before
us, viz. When any quality or attribute of an object,
which does not exist by itself, but in a state of combina-
tion, is detached by our minds from its customary associ-
ates, and is considered separately, the notion we form of
it becomes a particular abstract idea. The distinctive
mark of this class is, that the abstraction is limited to one
quality. It should, perhaps, be particularly added, that
the abstraction or separation may exist mentally, when it
cannot take place in the object itself. For instance, the
size, the figure, length, breadth, colour, &c., of a building
may each of them be made subjects of separate mental
consideration, although there can be no real or actual
separation of these things in the building itself. If there
VOL. I.-Q
182
ABSTRACTION.
be any one of these properties, there must necessarily be
all.
§ 136. Mental process in separating and abstracting them.
The manner of expressing ourselves on the subject of
our abstract notions, to which we have been accustomed,
is apt to create and cherish a belief in the existence of a
separate mental faculty, adapted solely to this particular
purpose. But the doctrine of a power or faculty of ab-
straction, which is exclusive of other mental susceptibili-
ties, and is employed solely for this purpose, does not ap-
pear to be well founded. It will convey an impression
nearer the truth to speak of the PROCESS rather than the
power of abstraction.-The following statement will be
sufficient to show how those of the first class, or particu-
lar abstract ideas, are formed.
Although our earliest notions, whether they arise from
the senses or are of an internal origin, are simple, exist-
ing in an independent and separate state, yet those sim-
ple thoughts are very soon found to unite together with
a considerable degree of permanency, and out of them
are formed complex states of mind. Many are in this
way combined together in one, and the question is, how
this combination is to be loosened, and the elementary
parts are to be extracted from their present complexity?
In answer it may be said, that in every case of separa-
ting a particular abstract idea, there must necessarily be
a determination, a choice, an act of the will. This vol-
untary state of mind must concern the previous complex
mental state, when viewed in one respect rather than an-
other; or, what is the same thing, it will concern one
part of the complex idea rather than another. So that
we may truly and justly be said to have not only a de-
sire, but a determination to consider or examine some
part of the complex idea more particularly than the oth-
When the mind is in this manner directed to any
particular part of a complex notion, we find it to be the
fact, that the principle of association, or whatever princi-
ple it is, which keeps the other parts in their state of
union with it, ceases in a greater or less degree to oper-
ate and to maintain that union; the other parts rapidly
ers.
ABSTRACTION.
183
fall off and disappear, and the particular quality, towards
which the mind is particularly directed, remains the sole
subject of consideration. That is to say, it is abstracted
or becomes an abstract idea.-If, for example, we have
in mind the complex notion of any object, a house, tree,
plant, flower, and the like, but have a desire and deter-
mination to make the colour, which forms a part of this
complex notion, a particular subject of attention, the con-
sequence is, that, while the quality of colour occupies our
chief regard, the other qualities will disappear and no
more be thought of. If we determine to examine the
weight or extension of an object, the result will be the
same; in other words, the extension, weight, colour, &c.,
becoming distinct and exclusive objects of attention, will
be abstracted.
:
This, in the formation of particular abstract ideas,
seems to be the process of the mind, and nothing more,
viz. The direction of an act of the will to a particular
part of a complex notion, and the consequent detention
of the part towards which the mental choice is directed,
and the natural and necessary disappearance, under such
circumstances, of the other parts.
§ 137. Of generalizations of particular abstract mental states.
The terms GENERALIZING and GENERALIZATION are often
found applied to the states of mind under consideration.
When we have made any quality of a body a distinct
and separate subject of attention, we may further regard
it as belonging to one or more objects, according as we
find such to be the fact or otherwise. What is chiefly
meant, therefore, when we speak of the generalizing of
this class of abstract notions, is, that, in our experience of
things, we observe them to be common to many subjects.
We find whiteness to be a quality of snow, of chalk, of
milk, and of other bodies; and whenever, with the sim-
ple abstract notion of whiteness, we connect in our
thoughts the additional circumstance of its not being lim-
ited to one body, but the property of many, the term may
be said to be generalized. And this seems to be all that
can be properly understood by generalization when ap-
plied to the states of mind now before us.
184
ABSTRACTION.
§ 138. Of the importance and uses of abstraction.
The power of Abstraction, as it has sometimes been
called, is by no means an unimportant one, even when
limited to the separation of the particular or simple ele-
ments of thought." A carpenter," says Kames,* speak-
ing of the great utility of abstraction, "considers a log
of wood with regard to hardness, firmness, colour, and
texture; a philosopher, neglecting these properties, makes
the log undergo a chemical analysis, and examines its
taste, its smell, and component principles; the geometri-
cian confines his reasoning to the figure, the length,
breadth, and thickness; in general, every artist, abstract-
ing from all other properties, confines his observations to
those which have a more immediate connexion with his
profession."
Besides its well-known uses in the various forms of
reasoning (particularly demonstrative reasoning), abstrac-
tion is greatly subservient to the exertions of a creative
imagination, as they appear in painting, architecture, po-
etry, and the other fine or liberal arts. The poet and the
painter are supplied with their materials from experi-
ence; without having received ideas from some source,
they never could have practised their art. But, if they
do not restrict themselves to mere imitation, they must
combine and modify the ideas which they have, so as to
be able to form new creations of their own.
But every
such exertion of their powers presupposes the exercise of
abstraction in decomposing and separating actual con-
ceptions, and in forming them anew. The power of ab-
straction, therefore, may justly be considered as a char-
acteristic of the great masters in the liberal arts. From
how many delightful forms in nature, and how many
ideal temples, contemplated for a long time in the mind's
eye, must the genius that planned the Parthenon have
abstracted each form of beauty and excellence of pro-
portion! From how many forests, both seen and ima-
gined, and fields of bloom, and rivers and waterfalls,
must the mind that conceived the Garden of Paradise
Lost have drawn the sounds that delight the ear, and
the colours that are pleasant to the sight!
* Elements of Criticism, vol. iii., Appendix.
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
185
CHAPTER XIII.
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
§ 139. General abstract notions the same with genera and species.
WE proceed, in connexion with the remarks of the last
chapter, to the consideration of GENERAL ABSTRACT ideas;
a subject of no little interest, and which has frequently
been thought to be attended with no small difficulty.
General Abstract notions are not only different, in con-
sequence of embracing a greater number of elementary
parts, from those which are particular, but are also sus-
ceptible of being distinguished from the great body of
our other complex notions.-The idea, for example, which
we form of any individual, of John, Peter, or James, is ev-
idently a complex one, but it is not necessarily a general
one. The notion which we frame of a particular horse
or of a particular tree, is likewise a complex idea, but
not a general one. There will be found to be a clear
distinction between them, although it may not be perfect-
ly obvious at first. GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS are our no-
tions of the classes of objects, that is, of Genera and
Species. They are expressed by general names, without,
in most cases, any defining or limitation, as when we use
the words ANIMAL, MAN, HORSE, BIRD, SHEEP, FISH, TREE, not
to express any one in particular of these various classes,
but animals, men, horses, &c., in general.
§ 140. Process in classification, or the forming of genera and species.
Now if our general abstract ideas, as far as they relate
to external objects, are truly notions of SPECIES and GEN-
ERA, it will aid us in the better understanding of them if
we briefly consider how species and genera are formed.
Men certainly find no great practical difficulty in forming
these classifications, since we find that they do in fact
make them in numberless instances, and at a very early
period of life. They seem to be governed in the process
Q 2
186
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
by definite and uniform mental tendencies.-What, then,
in point of fact, is the process in classification? It is ob-
vious, in the first place, that no classification can be made.
without considering two or more objects together. A
number of objects, therefore, are first presented to us for
our observation and inquiry, which are to be examined
first in themselves, and then in comparison with each
other. We will take a familiar scene to illustrate what
takes place.
We suppose ourselves to stand on the bank of a navi-
gable river; we behold the flowing of its waters, the
cliffs that overhang it, the trees that line its shore, the
boats and boatmen on its bosom, the flocks and herds
that press down to drink from its waves. With such a
scene before us, it is to be expected that the mind will
rapidly make each and all of these the subjects of its
contemplation; nor does it pursue this contemplation and
inquiry far, without perceiving certain relations of agree-
ment or difference. Certain objects before it are felt to
be essentially alike, and others to be essentially different;
and hence they are not all arranged in one class, but a
discrimination is made, and different classes are formed.
The flocks and herds are formed into their respective
classes. The tall and leafy bodies on the river's bank,
although they differ from each other in some respects,
are yet found to agree in so many others, that they are ar-
ranged together in another class, and called by the gen-
eral name of TREE. The living, moving, and reasoning
beings, that propel the boats on its waters, form anoth-
er class, and are called MAN.-And there is the same pro-
cess, and the same result, in respect to all other bodies
coming within the range of our observation.
§ 141. Early classifications sometimes incorrect.
It has been intimated, that, in making these classifica-
tions, men are governed by definite and uniform mental
tendencies; still it must be acknowledged that mistakes
are sometimes committed, especially in the early periods
of society, and in all cases where the opportunities of
examination and comparison are imperfect. When man
first opens his eyes on nature (and in the infancy of our
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
187
|
race, he finds himself a novice wherever he goes), ob-
jects so numerous, so various in kind, so novel and inter-
esting, crowd upon his attention, that, attempting to di-
rect himself to all at the same time, he loses sight of
their specifical differences, and blends them together
more than a calm and accurate examination would justi-
fy. And hence it is not to be wondered at that our ear-
liest classifications, the primitive genera and species, are
sometimes incorrectly made.
Subsequently, when knowledge has been in some
measure amassed, and reasoning and observation have
been brought to a greater maturity, these errors are attend-
ed to; individuals are rejected from species where they
do not properly belong, and species from genera. The
most savage and ignorant tribes will in due season cor-
rect their mistakes and be led into the truth.
§ 142. Illustrations of our earliest classifications.
We are naturally led to introduce some circumstances
here which throw light on this part of our subject. What
we wish to illustrate is the simple fact, that men readily
perceive the resemblances of objects, and exhibit a dis-
position to classify them in reference to such resemblance.
The first case which we shall mention in illustration of
this, is that of Caspar Hauser. The principal objects
which Caspar had to amuse himself with in his prison
were two little wooden horses, which, in his entire igno-
rance, he believed to be possessed of life and sensibility
After the termination of his imprisonment, his biographer
informs us, that to “ every animal he met with, whether
quadruped or biped, dog, cat, goose, or fowl, he gave
the name of horse."
In the year 1814, Pitcairn's Island, a solitary spot in
the Pacific Ocean, was visited by two English cruisers.
Two of the young men that belonged on the island, and
whose knowledge was, of course, exceedingly limited,
came on board one of the vessels. "The youths," says
the Narrative," were greatly surprised at the sight of so
many novel objects; the size of the ship, the guns, and
everything around them. Observing a cow, they were
at first alarmed, and expressed a doubt whether it was a
188
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
huge goat or a horned hog, these being the only two
species of quadrupeds they had ever seen."
The English navigator Cook, in going from New-Zea-
land to the Friendly Islands, lighted on an island called
Wateeoo." The inhabitants," he says,
(C were afraid to
come near our cows and horses, nor did they form the
least conception of their nature. But the sheep and
goats did not surpass the limits of their ideas, for they
gave us to understand they knew them to be birds.'
""
Captain Cook informs us that these people were ac-
quainted with only three sorts of animals, viz., dogs,
hogs, and birds. Of hogs and dogs they had probably
never known more than one variety or class, and had
never been led to suspect that there was, or could be, any
other. But, having noticed a great variety of birds in
their forests and waters, they had undoubtedly found it
necessary, before this period, not only to give a general
name expressive of all birds, but also to classify some of
the subordinate varieties. This people, therefore, not un-
naturally, although we do not pretend to say with much
discrimination, applied the term BIRDS to the sheep and
goats of the English. They knew not but there might
be some new class of birds which they had not hitherto
noticed; and they saw no insuperable objection in the
size of the sheep and goats to this disposition of them,
whatever other objection they might, on a further exam-
ination, have subsequently found.
§ 143. Of the nature of general abstract ideas.
The notions which are thus formed in all cases of class-
ification, are commonly known, in the Treatises having
relation to these subjects, as General Abstract ideas.
And they are no less numerous than the multiplied vari-
eties of objects which are found to exist everywhere
around us. It is thus that we form the general notions
of animal and of all the subordinate species of animals;
of tree and its numerous varieties; of earths and miner-
als, and whatever else is capable of being arranged into
classes.
We may apply these views not only to natural objects,
but to forms and relations of a very different character
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
189
66
reason:
The word Triangle is the name of a general abstract
idea. Great exceptions, however, have been taken to
certain incautious expressions of Mr. Locke on this point.
He asserts that it requires some pains and skill to form
the general idea of a triangle, and gives the following
for it must neither be oblique nor rectangle,
neither equilateral, equicrural, nor scalenon, but all and
none of these at once," &c. This language is undoubt-
edly open to criticism, and, in truth, has not failed to re-
ceive a full share. The correct view seems to be this.
The word TRIANGLE is not only the name of a class, but
of a very general class; it is the name of a Genus, em-
bracing all those figures which agree in the circumstance
of being bounded by three straight lines meeting one an-
other so as to form three angles. A figure having any
other form (in other words, not exhibiting a resemblance
or similarity in this respect) is excluded from the Genus;
but it is still so extensive, taken in the sense just now
mentioned, as to include all figures whatever of that
name.-Now there are embraced within the genus, as in
numerous other cases, subordinate classes, which are dis-
tinguished by their appropriate names, viz., the class of
acute-angled triangles, that of right-angled triangles, of
obtuse-angled triangles, &c.
But it is to be noticed, that the general idea, whatever
objects it may be founded upon, does not embrace every
particular which makes a part of such objects. When
we look at a number of men, we find them all differing
in some respects, in height, size, colour, tone of voice,
and in other particulars. The mind fixes only upon those
traits or properties with which it can combine the notion
of resemblance; that is to say, those traits, qualities, or
properties in which the individuals are perceived to be
alike, or to resemble each other.-The complex mental
state, which embraces these qualities and properties, and
nothing more (with the exception of the superadded no-
tion of other bodies having resembling qualities), is a
General Abstract idea.
And hence the name. Such notions are called Ab-
STRACT, because, while embracing many individuals in
certain respects, they detach and leave out altogether a
190
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
variety of particulars in which those individuals disagree.
If there were not this discrimination and leaving out of
certain parts, we never could consider these notions, re-
garded as wholes, as otherwise than individual or partic-
ular. They are called GENERAL, because, in consequence
of the discrimination and selection which has just been
mentioned, they embrace such qualities and properties as
exist not in one merely, but in many.
The difference, therefore, between the complex notion
which we form of any particular object, and the general
complex feeling now under consideration, is truly this:
the latter combines together fewer particulars, but unites
with such as it does combine together the additional no-
tion of resemblance, which implies as its basis the com-
parison of a number of objects, and is, perhaps, the distin-
guishing circumstance.-Hence it must be allowed, that
there is no outward object precisely corresponding to the
GENERAL NOTION which we form. The mind takes into
view only a division or part of any one object, combi-
ning with this select view the notion of other objects,
and the relation of resemblance in respect to such divis-
ion or part.
If it should be asked, By virtue of what principle is
this discovery of a resembling relation made? the an-
swer is (and it is the only one which can be given), that
there is in the mind an original tendency or susceptibility,
by means of which, whenever we perceive different ob-
jects together, we are instantly, without the intervention
of any other mental process, sensible of their relation in
certain respects.
§ 144. Objection sometimes made to the existence of general notions.
It is proper briefly to notice an objection sometimes
made, viz., that it is not possible for us to have such gen-
eral notion at all, because there is nothing outward which
the general notion or idea precisely corresponds to. This
objection goes too far. It would seem even to lead to the
conclusion that we can have no complex idea of any
kind, neither particular nor general. It cannot be pre-
tended that even our complex notions of particular ob-
jects correspond precisely to those objects. The ideas
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
191
which we form of a particular house, tree, or plant, or
any other individual object, are often erroneous in some
respects, and probably always imperfect. But they are
not, for that reason, to be regarded as false and chimeri-
cal, and to be rejected as having no foundation in nature.
We will suppose ourselves to have been acquainted in
former years with a particular elm; we have looked upon
it a thousand times, and it is familiar to us as any of our
most cherished remembrances. At this great distance of
time and place we form an idea, a conception, a notion
of it, but it cannot be presumed to be a perfect or com-
plete one. It cannot be pretended that we have a notion
not only of the trunk, but of every leaf and of the form
of every leaf, and of every branch and its intertwinings
with every other branch; that it exists in our minds pre-
cisely, and in every respect, the same as it exists on the
spot where it grows. If, therefore, general abstract ideas
are to be rejected because they embrace only parts of
those objects which are ranked under them, we must on
the same grounds reject and deny also our complex no-
tions of individual objects; but this probably no one is
prepared to do.
§ 145. The power of general abstraction in connexion with numbers, &c.
The ability which the mind possesses of forming gen-
eral abstract ideas is of much practical importance; but
whether it be the characteristical attribute of a rational
nature or not, as some have supposed, it is not necessary
now to inquire. It is not easy to estimate the increase of
power which is thus given to the action of the human
mind, particularly in reasoning. By means of general ab-
stract propositions, we are able to state volumes in a few
sentences; that is to say, the truths, stated and illustrated
in a few general propositions, would fill volumes in their
particular applications. But it is enough here to refer to
a single circumstance in illustration of the uses of this
power.
Without the ability of forming general notions, we
should not be able to number, even in the smallest de-
gree. Before we can consider objects as forming a mul-
titude, or are able to number them, it seems necessary to
تصيب
192
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
be able to apply to them a common name. This we
cannot do until we have reduced them to a genus; and
the formation of a genus implies the power (or process
rather) of abstraction. Consequently, we should be un-
able, without such power, to number. How great, then, is
the practical importance of that intellectual process by
which general abstractions are formed!-Without the
ability to number, we should be at a loss in all investiga-
tions where this ability is required; without the power to
classify, all our speculations must be limited to particu-
lars, and we should be capable of no general reasoning.
§ 146. Of general abstract truths or principles.
There are not only general abstract ideas, but abstract
truths or principles also of a general nature, which are
deserving of some attention, especially in a practical
point of view. Although enough has already been said
to show the importance of abstraction, it may yet be de-
sirable to have a more full view of its applications.
The process in forming general truths or principles of
an abstract nature seems to be this. We must begin un-
doubtedly with the examination and study of particulars;
with individual objects and characters, and with insulated
events. We subsequently confirm the truth of whatever
has been ascertained in such inquiry by an observation
of other like objects and events. We proceed from one
individual to another till no doubt remains.-Having in
this way arrived at some general fact or principle, we
thenceforward throw aside the consideration of the par-
ticular objects on which it is founded, and make it alone,
exclusively and abstractly, the subject of our mental con-
templations. We repeat this process again and again
till the mind, instead of being wholly taken up with &
multitude of particulars, is stored with truths of a general
kind. These truths it subsequently combines in trains of
reasoning, compares together, and deduces from them
others of still wider application.
-
§ 147. Of the speculations of philosophers and others.
What has been said leads us to observe, that there is a
characteristical difference between the speculations of
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
193
men of philosophic minds and those of the common mass
of people which is worthy of some notice. The differ-
ence between the two is not so much, that philosophers
are accustomed to carry on processes of reasoning to a
greater extent, as this, that they are more in the habit of
employing general abstract ideas and general terms, and
that, consequently, the conclusions which they form are
more comprehensive. Nor are their general reasonings,
although the conclusions at which they arrive seem in their
particular applications to indicate wonderful fertility of
invention, so difficult in the performance as is apt to be
supposed. They have so often and so long looked at
general ideas and general propositions; have been so ac-
customed, as one may say, to contemplate the general
nature of things, divested of all superfluous and all spe-
cific circumstances, that they have formed a habit; and
the operation is performed without difficulty. It requires
in such persons no greater intellectual effort than would
be necessary in skilfully managing the details of ordinary
business.
The speculations of the great bulk of mankind differ
from those of philosophers in being, both in the subjects
of them and in their results, particular. They discover
an inability to enlarge their view to universal proposi-
tions, which embrace a great number of individuals.
They may possess the power of mere argument, of com-
paring propositions together which concern particulars,
and deducing inferences from them to a great degree;
but when they attempt to contemplate general proposi-
tions, their minds are perplexed, and the conclusions
which are drawn from them appear abscure, however
clearly the previous process of reasoning may have been
expressed.
§ 148. Of different opinions formerly prevailing.
The subject of general abstract ideas, of which we
have given a summary view, excited very considerable
interest during the Scholastic ages; and different opin-
ions have prevailed concerning them, not only at that pe-
riod, but more or less down to the present time. It is
perhaps not necessary in most cases and for most persons
VOL. I.-R
194
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
to plunge deeply into the history of philosophical opin
ions. A knowledge of the truth, when it is once found,
is in general of far greater consequence than an acquaint-
ance with the prolonged and conflicting discussions which
led to it. The diputes, however, on the topic of general
abstractions so widely prevailed, and excited so much in-
terest and effort, that it seems to be necessary to give a
short sketch of them.
In this discussion there have been three parties, viz.,
the Realists, the Nominalists, and the Conceptualists.
§ 149. Of the opinions of the Realists.
Those who go under this name held that general ab-
stract ideas have a real and permanent existence inde-
pendently of the mind. Of a man, of a rose, of a circle,
and of every species of things, they maintained that
there is one original form or archetype, which existed
from eternity, before any individuals of the species were
created. Its residence they seem to have assigned some-
where in the Eternal Mind itself, with this restriction,
that its own existence is otherwise independent, and that
it has its appropriate being, nature, and efficiency. In-
herently endued with life and activity, it seeks to reveal
itself in the visible and tangible figures of creation. Ac-
cordingly, this original model or archetype becomes the
pattern, according to which the individuals of all species
are in the most important respects fashioned. The arch-
etype, which is understood to embrace only the outlines
or generic features of things, becomes an object of per-
ception to the human intellect, whenever, by due abstrac-
tion, we discern it to be one and the same in all the indi-
viduals of the species.
Such was the doctrine of the Realists, which, in its
most essential respects, was very widely received from the
time of Plato and Aristotle down to the commencement
of the 12th century. But since that period, excepting a
few ineffectual attempts which have been made from time
to time to revive it, it has fallen into as general disrepute,
on the ground of its being too hypothetical, and not suf-
ficiently sustained by facts.
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
195
§ 150. Of the opinions of the Nominalists.
About the commencement of the 12th century, Rosce-
linus, the instructer of Abelard, whose name occupies so
conspicuous a place in the history of Scholastic learning,
proposed a new hypothesis. He maintained not only
that there are no original forms or archetypes, such as
had been asserted to exist by the Realists, but that there
are no universal abstract ideas of any kind. On the con-
trary, it seems to have been his opinion, as well as the
sentiment of those who have subsequently approved of
this doctrine, that nothing can be called general or uni-
versal but names, and that even to them universality can
be ascribed only virtually, and not in the strict and literal
sense of the term.—That is, the names are in the first in-
stance given to individuals, but when any individuals are
specified, the nature of the mind is such, that we natural-
ly and immediately think of other individuals of the same
kind. So that the names are in fact particular, although
owing to the operation of the principle of association, the
practical effect is the same as if it were otherwise, and
hence the epithets "general" and "universal" are ap-
plied to them. This opinion in respect to general ideas
and names, or some doctrine essentially of this descrip-
tion, has found many advocates from the days of Rosce-
linus and Abelard to those of Berkeley and Hume.
§ 151. Of the opinions of the Conceptualists.
Those who hold to the actual existence of general ab-
stract ideas, which are not permanent archetypes inde-
pendent of the mind, but only states of the mind, have
generally been called Conceptualists. We have already
given what we suppose to be the true mental process in
the formation of such ideas. Whether we can have such
ideas is best decided by each one's personal experience;
and when the examination of his internal experience is
conducted with care, it can hardly be doubted in what
way such a question will be generally answered.
As far as the Realists are concerned, the mere state-
ment of their doctrine is sufficient at the present day to
ensure its immediate rejection. The question lies then
between the Nominalists and those who have commonly
196
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
been called Conceptualists; and if there be insuperable
objections to the doctrine of the former, that of the latter
enhances its claims on our adoption.-Some of the objec-
tions to the sentiment of Roscelinus and those who have
thought with him are forcibly summed up in the follow-
ing passage from Brown's Philosophy of the Mind.
(Lect. xlvi., xlvii.)
"Of that rigid Nominalism, which involves truly no
mixture of Conceptualism, or of the belief of those feel-
ings of relation for which I have contended, but denies
altogether the existence of that peculiar class of feelings
or states of mind which have been denominated general
notions or general ideas, asserting the existence only of
individual objects perceived, and of general terms that
comprehend these, without any peculiar mental state de-
noted by the general term, distinct from those separate
sensations or perceptions which the particular objects
comprehended under the term might individually excite,
it seems to me that the very statement of the opinion it-
self is almost a sufficient confutation, since the very in-
vention of the general term, and the extension of it to
certain objects only, not to all objects, implies some rea-
son for this limitation, some feeling of general agreement
of the objects included in the class, to distinguish them
from the objects not included in it, which is itself that
very general notion professedly denied.*
As long as
some general notion of circumstances of resemblance is
admitted, I see very clearly how a general term may be
* It is proper to remark, in introducing this passage from Dr. Brown,
that this acute writer is to be considered as expressing himself too
strongly when he asserts, as he does near the close of it, that the feel-
ing of resemblance is all that the general name truly designates. Pos-
sibly he meant to convey by this assertion nothing more than this, that
the feeling of resemblance is the prominent and distinguishing circum-
stance in the notions expressed by general names, since in another
passage he speaks of general terms being "invented to express all that
multitude of objects which agree in exciting one common feeling of re-
lation, the relation of a certain similarity." If that were not his inten-
tion, then we are to consider his views as correct only so far as they go.
The feeling of resemblance is a prominent circumstance; but there is
something more than this. Whenever we form a complex notion, which
is both general and abstract, we combine the feeling of resemblance, the
existence of which Dr. Brown has so clearly demonstrated, with the no-
tion of those properties which are found to be possessed in common.
GENERAL ABSTRACT IDEAS.
197
most accurately limited; but if this general notion be
denied, I confess that I cannot discover any principles of
limitation whatever. Why have certain objects been
classed together, and not certain other objects, when all
have been alike perceived by us; and all, therefore, if
there be nothing more than mere perception in the pro-
cess, are capable of receiving any denomination which
we may please to bestow on them? Is it arbitrarily,
and without any reason whatever, that we do not class
a rose-bush with birds, or an elephant with fish? and
if there be any reason for these exclusions, why will
not the Nominalist tell us what that reason is-in what
feeling it is found-and how it can be made accordant
with his system? Must it not be that the rose-bush and
a sparrow, though equally perceived by us, do not ex-
cite that general notion of resemblance which the term
bird is invented to express-do not seem to us to have
those relations of a common nature, in certain respects,
which lead us to class the sparrow and the ostrich, howev-
er different in other respects, as birds; or the petty natives
of our brooks and rivulets with the mighty monsters of
the deep, under one general and equal denomination?
If this be the reason, there is more in every case than
perception and the giving of a general name; for there
is a peculiar state of mind—a general relative feeling—
intervening between the perception and the invention of
the term, which is the only reason that can be assigned
for that very invention.”
§ 152. Further remarks of Brown on general abstractions.
"Can the Nominalist then assert that there is no feel-
ing of the resemblance of objects, in certain respects,
which thus intervenes between the perception of them as
separate objects, which is one stage of the process, and
the comprehension of them under a single name, which
is another stage of the process-or must he not rather
confess that it is merely in consequence of this interve-
ning feeling we give to the number of objects their gen-.
eral name, to the exclusion of the multitudes of objects to
which we do not apply it, as it is in consequence of cer-
tain other feelings, excited by them individually, we give
R 2
198
OF ATTENTION.
to each separate object its proper name, to the exclusion
of every other object? To repeat the process, as already
described to you, we perceive two or more objects-we
are struck with their resemblance in certain respects. We
invent a general name to denote this feeling of resem-
blance, and we class under this general name every par-
ticular object, the perception of which is followed by the
same feeling of resemblance, and no object but these
alone. If this be a faithful statement of the process-and
for its fidelity I may safely appeal to your consciousness
the doctrine of the Nominalists is not less false than that
of the Realists. It is false, because it excludes that
general feeling of resemblance-the relative suggestion
-which is all that the general name itself truly desig-
nates, and without which, therefore, it never would have
been invented; while the doctrine of the Realists is false,
by inserting in the process those supposed separate enti-
ties which form no part of it. The one errs, as I have
already said, by excess, the other by deficiency."
CHAPTER XIV.
OF ATTENTION.
§ 153. Of the general nature of attention.
WITHOUT Considering it necessary to speak of atten-
tion as a separate intellectual power or faculty, as some
may be inclined to do, it seems to be sufficient to say,
that ATTENTION expresses the state of the mind when it is
steadily directed, for a length of time, to some object of
sense or intellect, exclusive of other objects. When we
say that any external object, or any subject of thought,
which is purely internal, receives attention, it seems to
be the fact, as far as we are able to determine, that
.the intellect is occupied with the subject of its attention,
whatever it is, for a certain period, and that all other
things are, for the time being, shut out. In other words,
the grasp which the perceptive power fixes upon the object
OF ATTENTION.
199
of its contemplations, is an undivided, an unbroken one.
-But this does not appear to be all. There is not only a
distinct and exclusive mental perception, but also an act
of the will, directing, condensing, and confining the per-
ception. So that, in all cases of attention, the act of the
mind may be regarded as a complex one, involving not
only the mere perception or series of perceptions, but
also an act of the will, founded on some feeling of de-
sire or sentiment of duty. It is the act of the will,
prompted in general by the feeling of desire or interest,
which keeps the mind intense and fixed in its position.
§ 154. Of different degrees of attention.
In agreement with this view of the subject, we often
speak of attention as great or small, as existing in a very
high or a very slight degree. When the view of the
mind is only momentary, and is unaccompanied, as it
generally is at such times, with any force of emotion or
energy of volitive action, then the attention is said to be
slight. When, on the contrary, the mind directs itself to
an object or series of objects with earnestness, and for a
considerable length of time, and refuses to attend to any-
thing else, then the attention is said to be intense.
We commonly judge at first of the degree of attention
to a subject from the length of time during which the
mind is occupied with it. But, when we look a little fur-
ther, it will be found that the time will generally depend
upon the strength and permanency of the attendant emo-
tion of interest. And hence both the time and the de-
gree of feeling are to be regarded in our estimate of the
power of attention in any particular case; the former be-
ing the result, and, in some sense, a measure of the latter.
Of instances of people who are able to give but slight
attention to any subject of thought, who cannot bring
their minds to it with steadiness and power, we every-
where find multitudes, and there are some instances
where this ability has been possessed in such a high de-
gree as to be worthy of notice. There have been math-
ematicians who could investigate the most complicated
problems amid every variety and character of disturb-
ance. It was said of Julius Cæsar, that, while writing a
200
OF ATTENTION.
despatch, he could at the same time dictate four others to
his secretaries; and if he did not write himself, could
dictate seven letters at once. The same thing is asserted
also of the Emperor Napoleon, who had a wonderful ca-
pability of directing his whole mental energy to whatev-
er came before him.*
The chess-player Philidor could direct three games of
chess at the same time, of one of which only he required
ocular inspection, the moves of the other two being an-
nounced to him by an assistant. The moves of the
chessmen formed the subject about which his thoughts
were employed; and such was the intensity of interest
and such the power of the will, that the mind found no
difficulty in dwelling upon it to the entire exclusion of
other subjects, and for a considerable length of time.
§ 155. Dependance of memory on attention.
There seems to be no doctrine in mental philosophy
more clearly established than this, that memory depends
on attention; that is, where attention is very slight, re-
membrance is weak; and where attention is intense, re-
membrance continues longer.-There are many facts
which confirm this statement.
(1.) In the course of a single day, persons who are
in the habit of winking will close their eyelids perhaps
thousands of times, and, as often as they close them, will
place themselves in utter darkness. Probably they are
conscious at the time both of closing their eyelids and
of being in the dark; but, as their attention is chiefly ta-
ken up with other things, they have entirely forgotten it.
-(2.) Let a person be much engaged in conversation,
or occupied with any very interesting speculation, and
the clock will strike in the room where he is, apparently
without his having any knowledge of it. He hears the
clock strike as much as at any other time, but, not at-
tending to the perception of sound, and having his
thoughts directed another way, he immediately forgets.
-(3.) In the occupations of the day, when a multitude
of cares are pressing us on every side, a thousand things
escape our notice; they appear to be neither seen nor
* Segur's History of the Expedition to Russia, book vii., ch. 13.
OF ATTENTION.
201
heard, nor to affect us in any way whatever. But at
the stillness of evening, when anxieties and toils are
quieted, and there is a general pause in nature, we seem
to be endued with a new sense, and the slightest sound
attracts our attention. Shakspeare has marked even this.
"The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended; and, I think,
The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
It is on the same principle that people dwelling in
the vicinity of waterfalls do not appear to notice the
sound. The residents in the neighbourhood even of
the great cataract of Niagara are not seriously disturbed
by it, although it is an unbroken, interminable thunder
to all others. The reason in all these cases is the same
as has already been given. There is no attention and
no remembrance, and, of course, virtually no perception.
(4.) Whenever we read a book, we do not observe
the words merely as a whole, but every letter of which
they are made up, and even the minute parts of these
letters. But it is merely a glance; it does not for any
length of time occupy our attention; we immediately
forget, and with great difficulty persuade ourselves that
we have truly perceived the letters of the word. The
fact that every letter is in ordinary cases observed by
us, may be proved by leaving out a letter of the word,
or by substituting others of a similar form. We readily,
in reading, detect such omissions or substitutions.
(5.) An expert accountant can sum up, almost with a
single glance of the eye, a long column of figures. The
operation is performed almost instantaneously, and yet
he ascertains the sum of the whole with unerring cer-
tainty. It is impossible that he should learn the sum
without noticing every figure in the whole column, and
without allowing each its proper worth; but the atten-
tion to them was so very slight, that he is unable to re-
member this distinct notice.
Many facts of this kind evidently show, as we think,
that memory depends upon attention, or, rather, upon a
continuance of attention, and varies with that continu-
ance.
202
OF ATTENTION.
§ 156. Of exercising attention in reading.
If attention, as we have seen, be requisite to memory,
then we are furnished with a practical rule of consider-
able importance. The rule is, Not to give a hasty and
careless reading of authors, but to read them with a suit-
able degree of deliberation and thought. It is the fault
of some persons that they are too quickly weary; that
they skip from one author to another, and from one sort
of knowledge to another. It is true, there are many
things to be known; we would not have a person limit
himself entirely to one science, but it is highly important
that he should guard against that rapid and careless
transition from subject to subject which has been men-
tioned.
If we are asked the reason of this direction, we find a
good and satisfactory one in the fact referred to at the
head of this section, that there cannot be memory with-
out attention, or, rather, that the power of memory will
vary with the degree of attention. By yielding to the
desire of becoming acquainted with a greater variety of
departments of knowledge than the understanding is
able to master, and, as a necessary consequence, by be-
stowing upon each of them only a very slight attention,
we remain essentially ignorant of the whole.
The person who pursues such a course finds himself
unable to recall what he has been over; he has a great
many half-formed notions floating in his mind, but these
are so ill shaped and so little under his control as to be
little better than actual ignorance. This is one evil re-
sult of reading authors and of going over sciences in the
careless way which has been specified, that the knowl-
edge thus acquired, if it can be called knowledge, is of
very little practical benefit, in consequence of being so
poorly digested and so little under control.
But there is another and, perhaps, more serious evil.
This practice greatly disqualifies one for all intellectual
pursuits. To store the mind with new ideas is only a
part of education. It is at least a matter of equal im-
portance to impart to all the mental powers a suitable
discipline, to exercise those that are strong, to strengthen
those that are weak and to maintain among all of them
OF ATTENTION.
203
a suitable balance. An attentive and thorough exami-
nation of subjects is a training up of the mind in both
these respects. It furnishes it with that species of knowl-
edge which is most valuable, because it is not mixed up
with errors; and, moreover, gives a strength and consist-
ency to the whole structure of the intellect. Whereas,
when the mind is long left at liberty to wander from ob-
ject to object without being called to account and sub-
jected to the rules of salutary discipline, it entirely loses
at last the ability to dwell upon the subjects of its thoughts,
and to examine them. And when this power is once
lost, there is little ground to expect any solid attainments.
§ 157. Alleged inability to command the attention.
We are aware that those who, in accordance with
these directions, are required to make a close and thor-
ough examination of subjects, will sometimes complain
that they find a great obstacle in their inability to fix
their attention. They are not wanting in ability to com-
prehend; but find it difficult to retain the mind in one
position so long as to enable them to connect together
all the parts of a subject, and duly estimate their various
bearings. When this intellectual defect exists, it be-
comes a new reason for that thorough examination of
subjects which has been above recommended. It has
probably been caused by a neglect of such strictness of
examination, and by a too rapid and careless transition
from one subject to another.
ATTENTION, it will be recollected, expresses the state.
of the mind when it is steadily directed for some time,
whether longer or shorter, to some object of sense or in-
tellect, exclusive of other objects. All other objects are
shut out; and, when this exclusion of everything else
continues for some time, the attention is said to be intense.
-Now it is well known that such an exclusive direc-
tion of the mind cannot exist for any long period with-
out being accompanied with a feeling of desire or of
duty. In the greatest intellectual exertions, not the mere
powers of judging, of abstracting, and of reasoning are
concerned; there will also be a greater or less move-
ment of the feelings. And it will be found that no feel-
204
DREAMING.
ing will effectually confine the minds of men in scientific
pursuits but a love of the truth.
Mr. Locke thought that the person who should dis-
cover a remedy for wandering thoughts would do great
service to the studious and contemplative part of man-
kind. We know of no other effective remedy than the
one just mentioned, A LOVE OF THE TRUTH, a desire to
know the nature and relations of things, merely for the
sake of knowledge. It is true that a conviction of duty
will do much; ambition and interest may possibly do
more; but when the mind is led to deep investigations
by these views merely, without finding something beau-
tiful and attractive in the aspect of knowledge itself, it
is likely to prove a tiresome process. The excellency,
therefore, of knowledge, considered merely in light of its
being suited to the intellectual nature of man, and as the
appropriate incentive and reward of intellectual activ-
ity, ought to be frequently impressed.-"I saw D'Alem-
bert," says a recent writer, "congratulate a young man
very coldly who brought him a solution of a problem.
The young man said, “I have done this in order to have
a seat in the Academy.' Sir,' answered D'Alembert,
'with such dispositions you never will earn one. Sci-
ence must be loved for its own sake, and not for the ad-
vantage to be derived. No other principle will enable
a man to make progress in the sciences !˜”*
6
܀
CHAPTER XV.
!!
DREAMING.
!!!!!
§ 158. Definition of dreams and the prevalence of them.
AMONG numerous other subjects in mental philosophy
which claim their share of attention, that of Dreaming is
entitled to its place; nor can we be certain that any oth-
er will be found more appropriate to it than the present,
* Memoirs of Montlosier, vol. i., p. 59, as quoted in Mackintosh's
Ethical Philosophy, sect. vii.
DREAMING.
205
especially when we consider how closely it is connected
in all its forms with our sensations and conceptions.
And what are Dreams? It approaches perhaps suffi-
ciently near to a correct general description to say, that
they are our mental states and operations while we are
asleep. But the particular views which are to be taken
in the examination of this subject will not fail to throw
light on this general statement.
.
The mental states and exercises which go under this
name have ever excited much interest. It is undoubted-
ly one reason of the attention which the subject of our
dreams have ever elicited among all classes of people,
that they are so prevalent; it being very difficult, if not
impossible, to find a person who has not had more or less
of this experience. Mr. Locke, however, tells us of an
individual who never dreamed till the twenty-sixth year
of his age, when he happened to have a fever, and then
dreamed for the first time. Plutarch also mentions one
Cleon, a friend of his, who lived to an advanced age, and
yet had never dreamed once in his life; and remarks,
that he had heard the same thing reported of Thrasy-
medes.
Undoubtedly these persons dreamed very seldom, as
we find that some dream much more than others; but it
is possible that they may have dreamed at some time and
entirely forgotten it. So that it cannot with certainty be
inferred, from such instances as these, that there are any
who are entirely exempt from dreaming.
§ 159. Connexion of dreams with our waking thoughts.
In giving an explanation of dreams, our attention is
first arrested by the circumstance that they have an inti-
mate relationship with our waking thoughts. The great
body of our waking experiences appear in the form of
trains of associations; and these trains of associated ideas,
in greater or less continuity, and with greater or less va-
riation, continue when we are asleep.-Condorcet (a
name famous in the history of France) told some one,
that, while he was engaged in abstruse and profound cal-
culations, he was frequently obliged to leave them in an
unfinished state, in order to retire to rest; and that the
VOL. I.-S
206
DREAMING.
remaining steps and the conclusion of his calculations
have more than once presented themselves in his dreams.
-Franklin also has made the remark, that the bearings
and results of political events, which had caused him
much trouble while awake, were not unfrequently un-
folded to him in dreaming.-Mr. Coleridge says, that, as
he was once reading in the Pilgrimage of Purchas an ac-
count of the palace and garden of the Khan Kubla, he
fell into a sleep, and in that situation composed an entire
poem of not less than two hundred lines, some of which
he afterward committed to writing. The poem is enti-
tled Kubla Khan, and begins as follows:
"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree;
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea. ""
It is evident, from such statements as these, which are
confirmed by the experience of almost every person, that
our dreams are fashioned from the materials of the
thoughts and feelings which we have while awake; in
other words, they will, in a great degree, be merely the
repetition of our customary and prevailing associations.
So well understood is this, that President Edwards, who
was no less distinguished as a mental philosopher than as
a theologian, thought it a good practice to take particu-
lar notice of his dreams, in order to ascertain from them
what his predominant inclinations were.
§ 160. Dreams are often caused by our sensations.
But while we are to look for the materials of our
dreams in thoughts which had previously existed, we
further find that they are not beyond the influence of
those slight bodily sensations, of which we are susceptible
even in hours of sleep. These sensations, slight as they
are, are the means of introducing one set of associations
rather than another.-Dugald Stewart relates an incident
which may be considered an evidence of this, that a
person with whom he was acquainted had occasion, in
consequence of an indisposition, to apply a bottle of hot
water to his feet when he went to bed; and the conse-
DREAMING.
207
quence was, that he dreamed he was making a journey
to the top of Mount Etna, and that he found the heat
of the ground almost insupportable. There was once a
gentleman in the English army who was so susceptible of
audible impressions while he was asleep, that his com-
panions could make him dream of what they pleased.
Once, in particular, they made him go through the whole
process of a duel, from the preliminary arrangements to
the firing of the pistol, which they put into his hand for
that purpose, and which, when it exploded, waked him.
A cause of dreams closely allied to the above is the
variety of sensations which we experience from the
stomach, viscera, &c.-Persons, for instance, who have
been for a long time deprived of food, or have received
it only in small quantities, hardly enough to preserve life,
will be likely to have dreams in some way or other di-
rectly relating to their condition. Baron Trenck relates,
that, being almost dead with hunger when confined in his
dungeon, his dreams every night presented to him the well-
filled and luxurious tables of Berlin, from which, as they
were presented before him, he imagined he was about to
relieve his hunger. "The night had far advanced," says
Irving, speaking of the voyage of Mendez to Hispaniola,
"but those whose turn it was to take repose were un-
able to sleep from the intensity of their thirst; or, if they
slept, it was to be tantalized with dreams of cool fount-
ains and running brooks."
.
The state of health also has considerable influence, not
only in producing dreams, but in giving them a particu-
lar character. The remark has been made by medical
men, that acute diseases, particularly fevers, are often
preceded and indicated by disagreeable and oppressive
dreams.
§ 161. Explanation of the incoherency of dreams. (1st cause.)
There is frequently much of wildness, inconsistency,
and contradiction in our dreams. The mind passes very
rapidly from one object to another; strange and singular
incidents occur. If our dreams be truly the repetition of
our waking thoughts, it may well be inquired, How this
wildness and inconsistency happen?
208
DREAMING.
I
The explanation of this peculiarity resolves itself into
two parts. The FIRST ground or cause of it is, that our
dreams are not subjected, like our waking thoughts, to
the control and regulation of surrounding objects. While
we are awake, our trains of thought are kept uniform
and coherent by the influence of such objects, which con-
tinually remind us of our situation, character, and duties;
and which keep in check any tendency to revery. But
in sleep the senses are closed; the soul is accordingly, in
a great measure, excluded from the material world, and is
thus deprived of the salutary regulating influence from
that source.
§ 162. Second cause of the incoherency of dreams.
In the second place, when we are asleep, our associa-
ted trains of thought are no longer under the control of
the WILL. We do not mean to say that the operations of
the will are suspended at such times, and that volitions
have no existence. On the contrary, there is sufficient
evidence of the continuance of these mental acts, in
some degree at least, since volitions must have made a
part of the original trains of thought, which are repeated
in dreaming; and, furthermore, we are often as conscious
of exercising or putting forth volitions when dreaming as
of any other mental acts, for instance, imagining, remem-
bering, assenting, or reasoning. When we dream that
we are attacked by an enemy sword in hand, but happen,
as we suppose in our dreaming experiences, to be fur-
nished in self-defence with an instrument of the same
kind, we dream that we will to exert it for our own safe-
ty and against our antagonist; and we as truly, in this
case, put forth the mental exercise which we term volition,
as in any other we exercise remembrance, or imagine,
or reason in our sleep.
Admitting, however, that the will continues to act in
sleep, it is quite evident that the volitions which are put
forth by it have ceased to exercise their customary influ-
ence in respect to our mental operations. Ordinarily we
are able, by means of an act of the will, to fix our atten-
tion upon some particular part of any general subject
which has been suggestel, or to transfer it to some other
DREAMING.
209
part of such subject, and thus to direct and to regulate
the whole train of mental action. But, the moment we
are soundly asleep, this influence ceases, and hence, in
connexion with the other cause already mentioned, arise
the wildness, incoherency, and contradictions which
exist.
A person, while he is awake, has his thoughts under
such government, and is able, by the direct and indirect
influence of volitions, so to regulate them, as generally to
bring them, in the end, to some conclusion which he fore-
sees and wishes to arrive at. But in dreaming, as all di-
recting and governing influence, both internal and exter-
nal, is at an end, our thoughts and feelings seem to be
driven forward, much like a ship at sea without a rudder,
wherever it may happen.
§ 163. Apparent reality of dreams. (1st cause.)
When objects are presented to us in dreams, we look
upon them as real; and events, and combinations and se-
ries of events, appear the same. We feel the same inter-
est and resort to the same expedients as in the perplexi-
ties and enjoyments of real life. When persons are in-
troduced as forming a part in the transactions of our
dreams, we see them clearly in their living attitudes and
stature; we converse with them, and hear them speak,
and behold them move, as if actually present.
One reason of this greater vividness of our dreaming
conceptions and of our firm belief in their reality seems
to be this. The subjects upon which our thoughts are
then employed occupy the mind exclusively. We can
form a clearer conception of an object with our eyes shut
than we can with them open, as any one will be convinced
on making the experiment; and the liveliness of the con-
ception will increase in proportion as we can suspend the
exercise of the other senses. In sound sleep, not only the
sight, but the other senses also, may be said to be closed;
and the attention is not continually diverted by the mul-
titude of objects which arrest the hearing and touch when
we are awake.-It is, therefore, a most natural supposi-
tion, that our conceptions must at such times be extreme-
ly vivid and distinct. At § 119 we particularly remark-
S 2
210
DREAMING.
ed upon conceptions, or those ideas which we have of ab-
sent objects of perception, which possess this vividness of
character. And it there appeared that they might be at-
tended with a momentary belief even when we are
awake. But, as conceptions exist in the mind when we
are asleep in a much higher degree distinct and vivid,
what was in the former case a momentary, becomes in the
latter a permanent belief. Hence everything has the ap-
pearance of reality; and the mere thoughts of the mind
are virtually transformed into persons, and varieties of sit-
uation, and events, which are regarded by us in precisely
the same light as the persons, and situations, and events
of our every-day's experience.
§ 164. Apparent reality of dreams. (2d cause.)
A second circumstance which goes to account for the
fact that our dreaming conceptions have the appearance
of reality is, that they are not susceptible of being con-
trolled, either directly or indirectly, by mere volition.-
We are so formed as almost invariably to associate real-
ity with whatever objects of perception continue to pro-
duce in us the same effects. A hard or soft body, or any
substance of a particular colour, or taste, or smell, are al-
ways, when presented to our senses, followed by certain
states of mind essentially the same; and we yield the
most ready and firm belief in the existence of such ob-
jects. In a word, we are disposed, from our very consti-
tution, to believe in the existence of objects of percep-
tion, the perceptions of which do not depend on the WILL,
but which we find to be followed by certain states of the
mind, whether we choose it or not.-But it is to be rec-
ollected that our dreaming thoughts are mere concep-
tions; our senses being closed and shut up, and external
objects not being presented to them. This is true. But
if we conclude in favour of the real existence of objects
of perception because they produce in us sensations inde-
pendently of our volitions, it is but natural to suppose
that we shall believe in the reality of our conceptions
also, whenever they are in like manner beyond our vol-
untary control. They are both merely states of the
mind; and if belief always attends our perceptions
Ap

DREAMING.
211
T
wherever we find them to be independent of our choice,
there is no reason why conceptions, which are ideas of
absent objects of perception, should not be attended with
a like belief under the same circumstances.-And essen-
tially the same circumstances exist in dreaming; that is,
a train of conceptions arise in the mind, and we are not
conscious at such times of being able to exercise any di-
rection or control whatever over them. They exist,
whether we will it or not; and we regard them as real.
§ 165. Of our estimate of time in dreaming.
Our estimate of time in dreaming differs from that
when awake. Events which would take whole days or a
longer time in the performance, are dreamed in a few mo-
ments. So wonderful is this compression of a multitude
of transactions into the very shortest period, that when we
are accidentally awakened by the jarring of a door which
is opened in the room where we are sleeping, we some-
times dream of depredations by thieves or destruction by
fire in the very instant of our awaking." A friend of
mine," says Dr. Abercrombie, " dreamed that he crossed
the Atlantic, and spent a fortnight in America. In em-
barking on his return he fell into the sea, and, having
awoke with the fright, discovered that he had not been
asleep above ten minutes." Count Lavallette, who some
years since was condemned to death in France, relates a
dream which occurred during his imprisonment as fol-
lows. "One night while I was asleep, the clock of the
Palais de Justice struck twelve, and awoke me. I heard
the gate open to relieve the sentry, but I fell asleep
again immediately. In this sleep I dreamed that I was
standing in the Rue St. Honoré, at the corner of the Rue
de l'Echelle. A melancholy darkness spread around me;
all was still; nevertheless, a low and uncertain sound
soon arose. All of a sudden I perceived at the bottom
of the street, and advancing towards me, a troop of cav-
alry, the men and horses, however, all flayed. This hor-
rible troop continued passing in a rapid gallop, and cast-
ing frightful looks on me. Their march, I thought, con-
tinued for five hours, and they were followed by an
immense number of artillery-wagons, full of bleeding
212
DREAMING.
corpses, whose limbs still quivered; a digusting smell of
blood and bitumen almost choked me. At length the
iron gate of the prison, shutting with great force, awoke
me again. I made my repeater strike; it was no more
than midnight, so that the horrible phantasmagoria had
lasted no more than two or three minutes, that is to say,
the time necessary for relieving the sentry and shutting
the gate.
The cold was severe and the watchword
short. The next day the turnkey confirmed my calcula-
tions."
Our dreams will not unfrequently go through all the
particulars of some long journey, or of some military ex-
pedition, or of a circumnavigation of the globe, or of oth-
er long and perilous undertakings, in a less number of
hours than it took weeks, or months, or even years in the
actual performance of them. We go from land to land,
and from city to city, and into desert places; we experi-
ence transitions from joy to sorrow, and from poverty to
wealth; we are occupied in the scenes and transactions
of many long months; and then our slumbers are scat-
tered, and, behold, they are the doings of a fleeting watch
of the night!
This striking circumstance in the history of our dreams
is generally explained by supposing that our thoughts, as
they successively occupy the mind, are more rapid than
while we are awake. But their rapidity is at all times
very great; so much so, that in a few moments crowds
of ideas pass through the mind which it would take a
long time to utter, and a far longer time would it take to
perform all the transactions which they concern. This
explanation, therefore, is not satisfactory, for our thoughts
are oftentimes equally rapid in our waking moments.
The true reason, we apprehend, is to be found in those.
preceding sections, which took under examination the
apparent reality of dreams. Our conceptions in dream-
ing are considered by us real; every thought is an ac-
tion; every idea is an event; and successive states of
mind are successive actions and successive events. He
who in his sleep has the conception of all the particulars
of a military expedition to Moscow or of a circumnavi-
gation of the globe, seems to himself to have actually
DREAMING.
213
experienced all the various and multiplied fortunes of
the one and the other. Hence what appears to be the
real time in dreams, but is only the apparent time, will
not be that which is sufficient for the mere thought, but
that which is necessary for the successive actions.
"Something perfectly analogous to this may be re-
marked," says Mr. Stewart,," in the perceptions we ob-
tain by the sight of sense. * When I look into a show-
box, where the deception is imperfect, I see only a set
of paltry daubings of a few inches in diameter; but if
the representation be executed with so much skill as to
convey to me the idea of a distant prospect, every ob-
ject before me swells in its dimensions in proportion to
the extent of space which I conceive it to occupy, and
what seemed before to be shut within the limits of a small
wooden frame, is magnified in my apprehension to an
immense landscape of woods, rivers, and mountains."
§ 166. Of the senses sinking to sleep in succession.
It is true, as a general statement, that in sleep the
mind ceases to retain its customary power over the mus-
cular movements of the system; and all the senses are
at such times locked up, and no longer perform their
usual offices. The effect upon the senses is such that it
seems to be proper to speak of them as individually
going to sleep and awaking from sleep. It remains,
therefore, to be observed, that there is considerable rea-
son to suppose that the senses fall asleep in succession.
-For a detailed explanation and proof of this singular
fact, reference must be had to Cullen, and particularly
to Cabanis, a French writer on subjects of this nature;
but the conclusion at which they arrive on this particu-
lar point may be here stated.†
The sight, in consequence of the protection of the eye-
lids, ceases to receive impressions first, while all the
other senses preserve their sensibility entire; and may,
therefore, be said to be first in falling asleep. The sense
of taste, according to the above writers, is the next which
loses its susceptibility of impressions, and then the sense
* Stewart's Elements, chapter on Dreaming.
+ Rapports du Physique et du Moral de L'Homme, mem. x.
214
DREAMING.
of smelling. The hearing is the next in order, and last
of all comes the sense of touch.-Furthermore, the senses
are thought to sleep with different degrees of profound-
ness. The senses of taste and smelling awake the last;
the sight with more difficulty than the hearing, and the
touch the easiest of all. Sometimes a very considerable
noise does not awake a person; but if the soles of the feet
are tickled in the slightest degree, he starts up immedi-
ately.
Similar remarks are made by the writers above re-
ferred to on the muscles. Those which move the arms
and legs cease to act when sleep is approaching sooner
than those which sustain the head; and the latter before
those which support the back. And here it is proper to
notice an exception to the general statement at the com-
mencement of this section, that the mind, in sleep, ceases
to retain its power over the muscles. Some persons can
sleep standing, or walking, or riding on horseback; with
such we cannot well avoid the supposition, that the vol-
untary power over the muscles is in some way retained
and exercised in sleep.-These statements are particularly
important in connexion with the facts of somnambulism;
only admit that the susceptibility of the senses and the
power of the muscles may remain even in part while we
are asleep, and we can account for them. We know that
this is not the case in a vast majority of instances; but
that it does sometimes happen is a point which seems at
last to be sufficiently well established.
§ 167. General remarks on cases of somnambulism.
With the general subject of dreaming, that of Som-
nambulism is naturally and intimately connected. Som-
nambulists, as the term itself indicates, are persons who
are capable of walking and of other voluntary actions.
while asleep. Of such persons many instances are on
record; and the facts which they present to our notice
are both practically and psychologically matters of con-
siderable interest and importance.
(I.) A number of things may be said in explanation of
somnambulism. The somnambulist, in the first place, is
in all cases dreaming, and we may suppose, in general,
DREAMING.
215
that the dream is one which greatly interests him. After
he has awaked, the action he has passed through ap-
pears, in his recollection of it, to be merely a dream, and
not a reality. "A young nobleman," says Dr. Aber-
crombie, "living in the citadel of Breslau, was observed
by his brother, who occupied the same room, to rise in
his sleep, wrap himself in a cloak, and escape by a win-
dow to the roof of the building. He there tore in pieces
a magpie's nest, wrapped the young birds in his cloak,
returned to his apartment, and went to bed. In the
morning he mentioned the circumstances as having oc-
curred in a dream, and could not be persuaded that there
had been anything more than a dream, till he was shown
the magpies in his cloak." And this is noticed to be
commonly the fact. What has been done has the ap-
pearance of being a dream. And there is no doubt that
the mind of the somnambulist is in that particular state.
which we denominate dreaming.
(II.) In the second place, those volitions which are a
part of his dreams retain their power over the muscles,
which is not the fact in the sleep and the dreaming of
the great body of people.-Consequently, whatever the
somnambulist dreams is not only real in the mind, as in
the case of all other dreamers, but his ability to exercise
his muscles enables him to give it a reality in action.
Whether he dream of writing a letter, of visiting a neigh-
bour's house, of cutting and piling wood, of thrashing his
grain, or ploughing his field (acts which have at various
times been ascribed to the somnambulist), his muscles
are faithful to his vivid mental conceptions, which we
may suppose in all cases closely connected with his cus-
tomary labours and experiences, and frequently enable
him to complete what he has undertaken, even when his
senses are at the same time closed up.
But the inquiry arises here, How it happens, while in
most cases both senses and muscles lose their power, in
these, on the contrary, the muscles are active while the
senses alone are asleep ?-In reference to this inquiry, it
must be acknowledged, that it is involved at present in
some uncertainty, although there is much reason to anti-
cipate that it may hereafter receive light from further in-
216
DREAMING.
vestigations and knowledge of the nervous system and
functions. There is a set of nerves which are understood
to be particularly connected with respiration, and which
appear to have nothing to do with sensation and with
muscular action. There is another set which are known
to possess a direct and important connexion with sensation
and the muscles. These last are separable into distinct
filaments, having separate functions; some being con-
nected with sensation merely, and others with volition and
muscular action. In sensation, the impression made by
some external body, exists at first in the external part of
the organ of sense, and is propagated along one class of
filaments to the brain. In volition and voluntary muscu-
lar movement, the origin of action, as far as the body is
concerned, seems to be the reverse, commencing in the
brain, and being propagated along other and appropriate
nervous filaments to the different parts of the system.
Hence it sometimes happens, that, in diseases of the ner-
vous system, the power of sensation is in a great measure
lost, while that of motion fully remains; or, on the con-
trary, the power of motion is lost, while that of sensation
remains. These views help to throw light on the subject
of somnambulism. Causes at present unknown to us
may operate, through their appropriate nervous filaments,
to keep the muscles awake, without disturbing the repose
and inactivity of the senses. A man may be asleep as to
all the powers of external perception, and yet be awake
in respect to the capabilities of muscular motion. And,
aided by the trains of association which make a part of
his dreams, may be able to walk about and to do many
things without the aid of the sight and hearing.
§ 168. Further illustrations of somnambulism.
(III.) Further, we are not to forget here a remark on
the sleep of the senses, a subject already briefly alluded
to, and which is an exception to the general statement
then made in regard to them. Both in somnambulism
and in ordinary cases of dreaming the senses are not al-
ways entirely locked up; many observations clearly
show that it is possible for the mind to be accessible
through them, and that a new direction may be given in
DREAMING.
217
this way to a person's dreams without awaking him.
Hence somnambulists may sometimes have very slight
visual perceptions; they may in some slight measure be
guided by sensations of touch; all the senses may be af-
fected in a small degree by their appropriate objects, or
this may be the case with some and not with others, with-
out effectually disturbing their sleep.-These facts will be
found to help in explaining any peculiar circumstances
which may be thought not to come within the reach of
the general explanation which has been given.
(IV.) But this is not all.
There are some cases,
which are not reached by the statements hitherto made.
There are not only slight exceptions to the general fact,
that somnambulists, like persons in ordinary sleep, are in-
sensible to external impressions, but occasionally some of
a marked and extraordinary character. There are a few
cases (the recent instance of Jane Rider in this country
is one) where persons in the condition of somnambulism
have not only possessed slight visual power, but percep-
tions of sight increased much above the common degree.
In the extraordinary narrative of Jane Rider, the author
informs us that he took two large wads of cotton and
placed them directly on the closed eyelids, and then
bound them on with a black silk handkerchief. The
cotton filled the cavity under the eyebrows, and reached
down to the middle of the cheek, and various experi-
ments were tried to ascertain whether she could see. In
one of them a watch enclosed in a case was handed to
her, and she was requested to tell what o'clock it was by
it; upon which, after examining both sides of the watch,
she opened the case, and then answered the question. She
also read, without hesitation, the name of a gentleman,
written in characters so fine that no one else could dis-
tinguish it at the usual distance from the eye. In an-
other paroxysm, the lights were removed from her room,
and the windows so secured that no object was discern-
ible, and two books were presented to her, when she im-
mediately told the titles of both, though one of them was
a book which she had never before seen. In other ex-
periments, while the room was so darkened that it was
impossible, with the ordinary powers of vision, to distin-
VOL. I.-T
218
DREAMING.
guish the colours of the carpet, and her eyes were also
bandaged, she pointed out the different colours in the
hearth rug, took up and read several cards lying on the
table, threaded a needle, and performed several other
things, which could not have been done without the aid
of vision.”*—Of extraordinary cases of this kind, it
would seem that no satisfactory explanation (at least no
explanation which is unattended with difficulties) has as
yet been given.
* As quoted in Dr. Oliver's Physiology, chap. 30.
DIVISION FIRST.
THE INTELLECT OR UNDERSTANDING.
INTELLECTIVE OR INTELLECTUAL STATES OF THE MIND.
PART SECOND.
THE INTERNAL, OR SUGGESTIVE INTELLECT.
INTELLECTUAL STATES OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
CHAPTER I.
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
§ 169. The soul has fountains of knowledge within.
We have traced the history of the mind thus far with
continued and increased satisfaction, because we have
been guided solely by well-known facts, without any de-
sire of exciting wonder by exaggeration, and with no
other feeling than that of knowing the truth. With cau-
tious endeavours not to trespass upon those limits which
the Creator himself has set to our inquiries, we have seen
the mind placed in the position of a necessary connex-
ion with the material world through the medium of the
senses, and in this way awakened into life, activity, and
power. Inanimate matter seems to have been designed
and appointed by Providence as the handmaid and nurse
of the mind in the days of its infancy-; and for that pur-
pose to have been endued with form, fragrance, and col-
our. Material eyes were given to the soul (not made a
part of its nature, but assigned to it as an instrumental
and auxiliary agent) that it might see; and material
hands, that it might handle; and hearing, that it might
hear. By means of these and other senses we become
acquainted with whatever is visible and tangible, and has
outline and form; but there are also inward powers of
perception, hidden fountains of knowledge, which open
themselves and flow up in the remote and secret places
of the soul. In other words, the soul finds knowledge in
itself, which neither sight, nor touch, nor hearing, nor
any other sense, nor any outward forms of matter could
give.
"The natural progress of all true learning," says the
author of Hermes, "is from sense to intellect." Having
begun with the senses, and first considered the sensations
and ideas which we there receive, we are next to enter
more exclusively into the mind itself, and to explore the
fruitful sources of knowledge which are internal. And,
T2
222
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
in thus doing, it is a satisfaction to know that we are
treading essentially in the steps of Mr. Locke, whose
general doctrine undoubtedly is, that a part of our ideas
only may be traced to the senses, and that the origin of
others is to be sought wholly in the intellect itself.
§ 170. Declaration of Locke, that the soul has knowledge in itself.
After alluding to the senses as one great source of
knowledge, "the other fountain," says Locke, "from
which experience furnisheth the understanding with ideas,
is the perception of the operations of our own minds
within us, as it is employed about the ideas it has got;
which operations, when the soul comes to reflect on and
consider, do furnish the understanding with another set of
ideas, which could not be had from things without, and
such are perception, thinking, doubting, believing, rea-
soning, knowing, willing, and all the different actings of
our own minds, which we, being conscious of, and ob-
serving in ourselves, do from these receive into our un-
derstandings ideas as distinct as we do from bodies af
fecting our senses. This source of ideas every man has
wholly within himself. And though it be not sense, as
having nothing to do with EXTERNAL objects, yet it is very
like it, and might properly enough be called INTERNAL
SENSE. But, as I call the other Sensation, so I call this
Reflection; the ideas it affords being such only as the
mind gets by reflecting on its own operations within it-
self."
It is, perhaps, necessary to remark here, that we intro-
duce this passage from Mr. Locke merely in support of
the general doctrine, without wishing to intimate a full
approbation of the manner in which he has applied it in
its details. It is probably true, that Mr. Locke, although
he started upon a right track, failed very much in his at-
tempts to carry out his own plan. But what we say
now concerns the general question; and, in reference to
that question, the passage just referred to is undoubtedly
weighty in itself, as well as in consequence of the great
reputation and acknowledged discernment of its author.
It is undoubtedly the doctrine of Mr. Locke, that our
knowledge begins with Sensation; in other words, that
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
223
impressions made on the bodily system are the first oc-
casions, so far as we are able to judge, of bringing the
mind into action. But it does not follow from this (and
the passage just quoted shows that Mr. Locke did not
suppose it thus to follow) that sensation is the only source
of knowledge. There is undeniably something distinct
from sensation; thoughts, which have an interior origin,
and cannot be represented by anything external; ideas,
which are based upon the succession, relation, and infi-
nite of things, and not upon what is fixed, tangible, and
measurable, or which are the representatives and expo-
nents of what is mental rather than of what is material.
§ 171. Opinions of Cudworth on the subject of internal knowledge.
We may properly introduce here a quotation or two
from another great authority, nearly contemporaneous
with Mr. Locke, that of Dr. Cudworth, a name which is
acknowledged to rank deservedly high among those that
are most closely associated with exalted wisdom and vir-
tue. Let us, however, be again reminded, that our whole
object here is to establish the general position, that there
is knowledge of a purely internal, as well as of an ex-
ternal origin; and that, therefore, a reference to writers
for that purpose does not necessarily involve an approba-
tion of, or a responsibility for, their opinions any further
than they relate to the particular object in view.-The
posthumous work from which these extracts are made, is
understood to have been written in reply to Mr. Hobbes,
who held the opinion that all our thoughts, of whatever
kind, are only either direct, or transformed and modified
sensations. And, therefore, the statements made in it,
being called forth under such circumstances, must be
supposed to have been carefully meditated, and on that
ground, among others, are entitled to much weight.
"That oftentimes," says Cudworth,* "there is more
taken notice of and perceived by the mind, both in the
sensible objects themselves and by occasion of them,
than was impressed from them, or passively received by
sense; which, therefore, must needs proceed from some in-
* Immutable Morality, book iv., chap. ii., § 14.
224
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
ward active principle in that which perceives, I shall
make it further appear by some other instances.
CC
'For, first, let a brute and a man at the same time be
made spectators of one and the same artificial statue, pic-
ture, or landscape; here the brute will passively receive
all that is impressed from the outward object upon sense
by local motion, as well as the man all the several col-
ours and figures of it; and yet the man will presently
perceive something in this statue or picture which the
brute takes no notice of at all, viz., beauty, and pulchri-
tude, and symmetry, besides the liveliness of the effigies
and portraiture. The eye of the brute being every jot as
good a glass or mirror, and perhaps endued with a more
perspicacious sense or power of passive perception than
that of a man.
"Or, again, let both a man and a brute at the same time
hear the same musical airs; the brute will only be sensi-
ble of noise and sounds, but the man will also perceive
harmony in them, and be very much delighted with it,
nay, even enthusiastically transported by it. Wherefore
the brute perceiving all the sounds as well as the man,
but nothing of the harmony, the difference must needs
arise from some inward active principle or anticipation in
the man, which the brute hath not.'
""
§ 172. Further remarks of the same writer on this subject.
"But I shall yet further illustrate this business," says
this learned writer near the conclusion of the same chap-
ter," that the mind may actively comprehend more in the
outward objects of sense, and by occasion of them, than
is passively received and impressed from them, by an-
other instance. Suppose a learned written or printed
volume held before the eye of a brute-creature or illiter-
ate person; either of them will passively receive all that
is impressed upon sense from those delineations, to whom
there will be nothing but several scrawls of ink drawn.
upon white paper. But if a man that hath inward antici-
pations of learning in him look upon them, he will im-
mediately have another comprehension of them than that
of sense, and a strange scene of thoughts presently rep-
resented to his mind from them; he will see heaven,
Z
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
225
earth, sun, moon, and stars, comets, meteors, elements, in
those inky delineations; he will read profound theorems
of philosophy, geometry, astronomy in them, learn a
great deal of new knowledge from them that he neve-
understood before, and thereby justly admire the wisdom.
of the composer of them. Not that all this was passive-
ly stamped upon his soul by sense from those characters
(for sense, as I said before, can perceive nothing here but
inky scrawls, and the intelligent reader will many times
correct his copy, finding erratas in it), but because his
mind was before furnished with certain inward anticipa-
tions, that such characters signify the elements of certain
sounds; those sounds, certain notions or cogitations of
the mind; and because he hath an active power of ex-
citing any such cogitations within himself, he reads in
those sensible delineations the passive stamps or prints of
another man's wisdom or knowledge upon them, and also
learns knowledge and instruction from them, not as in-
fused into his mind from those sensible characters, but,
by reason of those hints and significations thereby pro-
posed to it, accidentally kindled, awakened, and excited
in it; for all but the phantasms of black, inky strokes and
figures arises from the inward activity of his own mind.
Wherefore this instance in itself shows how the activity
of the mind may comprehend more in and from sensible
objects than is passively imprinted by them upon sense.
"But now, in the room of this artificial book in vol-
umes, let us substitute the book of nature, the whole visi-
ble and material universe, printed all over with the pass-
ive characters and impressions of divine wisdom and
goodness, but legible only to an intellectual eye; for, to
the sense both of man and brute, there appears nothing
else in it but as in the other, so many inky scrawls, i. e.,
nothing but figures and colours; but the mind and intel-
lect, which hath an inward and active participation of the
same divine wisdom that made it, and being printed all
over with the same archetypal seal, upon occasion of
those sensible delineations represented to it, and taking
notice of whatsoever is cognate to it, exerting its own in-
ward activity from thence, will not only have a wonder-
ful scene and large prospect of other thoughts laid open
226
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
before it, and variety of knowledge, logical, mathemati-
cal, metaphysical, moral, displayed, but also clearly read
the divine wisdom and goodness in every page of this
great volume, as it were written in large and legible char-
acters."'*
§ 173. Writers who have objected to the doctrine of an internal source
of knowledge.
But it ought not to pass unnoticed, that there have
been writers who have objected to the doctrine of an in-
ternal source of knowledge in distinction from that knowl-
edge which is outward, and is dependant, not only for
its occasion, but for its very nature, on the senses.
It was
the opinion, among others, of Mr. Hobbes, who preceded
Locke, and was not without merit as a metaphysician,
that all our knowledge might be traced to the senses, and
that, of course, no other origin of it need be sought. "The
original of all thoughts," says that writer, Leviathan, ch.
i., "is that which we call SENSE. There is no conception
in a man's mind which hath not at first, totally or by
parts, been begotten upon the organs of sense. This
was the opinion also of his contemporary, Gassendi, who
was his particular friend and correspondent, and, at a still
later period, of Condillac. The latter supported his
views at length and with much ingenuity, particularly in
his Treatise on Sensations.
22
These writers appear to have maintained, as a general
statement, that we have no simple ideas but such as exist
* Many other writers, as Stewart, Degerando, Brown, Coleridge,
Price, Jouffroy, and Cousin, advocate this general doctrine. Kant him-
self, whatever obscurity may rest on other articles of his metaphysics, is
clear upon this. He evidently gives us to understand, that the mental
operations themselves, although the senses are the first occasions of those
operations, furnish a new set of notions, which cannot directly be traced
to anything external.-Der Zeit nach geht also keine Erkenntniss in uns
vor der Erfahrung vorher, und mit dieser fangt alle an. Wenn aber
gleich alle unsere Erkenntniss mit der Erfahrung anhebt, so entspringt
sie darum doch nicht eben alle aus der Erfahrung. Denn es könne wohl
seyn, dass selbst unsere Erfahrungserkenntniss ein Zusammengesetztes
aus dem sey, was wir durch Eindrücke empfangen, und dem, was unser
eigenes Erkenntnissvermögen (durch sinnliche Eindrücke bloss veran-
lasst), aus sich selbst hergiebt, welchen Zusatz wir von jenem Grund-
stoffe nicht eher unterscheiden, als bis lange Uebung uns darauf auf-
merksam, und zur Absonderung desselben geschikt gemacht hat.-Kant's
Critik der reinen Vernunft, Einleitung, I.
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
227
in the mind directly by means of the senses. As they fur-
ther maintained that those of a complex nature are com-
posed, not merely virtually, but literally, of such as are
simple, they consequently considered them in the light of
combined and transformed sensations. Such appears to
be the general outline of their doctrine, although it has its
obscurities and perplexities, as might be expected, in con-
sequence of being essentially ill-founded." If we con-
sider," says Condillac, "that to remember, to compare,
to judge, to distinguish, to imagine, to be astonished, to
have abstract ideas, to have ideas of number and dura-
tion, to know truths, whether general or particular, are
but so many modes of being attentive; that to have pas-
sions, to love, to hate, to hope, to fear, to will, are but so
many different modes of desire; and that attention in the
one case, and desire in the other case, of which all these
feelings are modes, are themselves, in their origin, no-
thing more than modes of sensation; we cannot but con-
clude that SENSATION involves in itself all the faculties of
the soul.'
""*
•
This sentence, in its evident meaning, and as it is un-
derstood both by its author and his commentators, is clear-
ly at variance with the doctrine of Cudworth and of other
advocates of the "super-sensuous" or transcendental phi-
losophy, and entirely cuts off what has been variously
termed the internal, reflex, or subjective source of our
knowledge. According to the doctrine of Hobbes, Con-
dillac, Helvetius, and other writers of the sensual or ma-
terial school, everything may be traced back to the senses,
not merely as its occasion, but as its direct, or, at least, its
essential cause; everything becomes tangible and mate-
rial; we are utterly unable to form a conception even of
the invisible and glorious Deity, except under such an
appearance as the imagination, dealing with sensible ima-
ges alone, can picture forth from the gross and limited
materials of the earth. And in the same way, every other
idea, however spiritual and whatever it may relate to,
must be capable of being followed back to some arche-
The mind may
type in outward material existences.
separate, and modify, and combine sensible ideas or ima-
* Traité des Sensations, pt. i., ch. 7, § 2.
-
228
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
ges, but can never get above them; there is a portion of
earthliness in every possible thought.-It must, therefore,
be obvious, that the tendency of this system is to degrade
the mind; not only to limit the range, but to depress the
character of its powers, especially when we consider,
that, as one of its legitimate results, it rejects the doctrine
of a Moral Sense and of the Immutability of Moral Dis-
tinctions. It may be said, however, and perhaps with
some degree of plausibility, that the propriety of receiv-
ing it does not depend so much upon its tendency, as
upon the direct evidence which may be brought in its
support, in which, nevertheless, it is found to be utterly
deficient.
§ 174. Knowledge begins in the senses, but has internal accessions.
In order to have a clear understanding of the particu-
lar topic before us, let us briefly advert to certain general
views, already more or less attended to, having a connex-
ion with it. In making the human soul a subject of in-
quiry, it is an obvious consideration that a distinction may
be drawn between the soul, contemplated in itself, and its
acts, or states, or the knowledge which it possesses. The
inquiry, therefore, naturally arises, Under what circum-
stances the acquisition of knowledge begins?
Now this is the very question which has already been
considered; nor can it be deemed necessary to repeat here
the considerations which have been brought up in refer-
ence to it. It is enough to express our continued reliance
on the general experience and testimony of mankind, so
far as it is possible to ascertain them on a subject of so
much difficulty, that the beginnings of thought and knowl-
edge are immediately subsequent to certain affections of
those bodily organs which we call the SENSES. In other
words, were it not for impressions on the senses, which
may be traced to objects external to them, our mental ca-
pabilities, whatever they may be, would in all probability
have remained folded up, and have never been redeemed
from a state of fruitless inaction.
Hence the process, which is implied in the perception
of external things, or what is commonly termed by Mr.
Locke sensation, may justly be considered the OCCASION of
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
229
|
the introductory step to all our knowledge. But it does
not follow from this, nor is it by any means true, that the
whole amount of it, in its ultimate progress, is to be as-
cribed directly to the same source. All that can be said
with truth is, that the mind receives the earliest part of
its ideas by means of the senses, and that, in consequence
of having received these elementary thoughts, all its pow-
ers become rapidly and fully operative.
And here we come to the SECOND great source of
knowledge. The powers of the mind being thus fairly
brought into exercise, its various operations then furnish
us with another set of notions, which, by way of distin-
guishing them from those received through the direct me-
diation of the senses, may be called, in the language of
Mr. Locke, ideas of reflection, or, to use a phraseology
embracing all possible cases, ideas of INTERNAL ORIGIN.
These two sources of human thought, the Internal and
External, however they may have been confounded by
some writers, are entirely distinct. The ideas which arise
in the mind solely from the fact of the previous existence
of certain mental operations, could not have been sug-
gested by anything which takes place in the external
world independently of those operations. Of this last
class, some instances, with illustrations of the same, may
properly be mentioned here.
§ 175. Instances of notions which have an internal origin.
Among other notions which are to be ascribed to the
second great source, are those expressed by the terms
THINKING, DOUBTING, BELIEVING, and CERTAINTY.-It is a
matter of internal observation (that is, of consciousness
or of reflection, which are synonymous with internal ob-
servation), that the mind does not, and cannot, for any
length of time, remain inactive. Hence there is occasion
given for the origin of that idea which we denominate
THINKING. The notion which we thus denominate is
framed by the mind under these circumstances; the name
is given, and nobody is ignorant as to what is meant.
But then it is to be marked that its origin is wholly in-
ternal; it is not an object of touch, or taste, or sight; it
is to be ascribed to the mind itself alone, and to its inhe-
VOL I-U
230
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
rent activity, unaided by the senses, or by anything oper-
ating upon them.
Again, in the examination of some topic which is pro-
posed for discussion, a proposition is stated with little or
no evidence attending it, and the mind, in reference to
that proposition, is brought into a position to which we
give the name of doubting. It is by no means easy, or,
rather, it is impossible, to trace this idea directly to the
senses. All we can say of it is, that it has its origin
within, and necessarily exists immediately subsequent, not
to mere outward impressions, but to certain other mental
states, of which we are conscious.
But then, in this very instance, if the evidence be con-
siderably increased, the mental estimation which we
form is altered in regard to it, and to this new state of
the mind we give the name of belief or believing. And,
in case the evidence of the proposition is of a higher and
more decided character, there then arises another state of
the mind, which we denominate certainty.
The ideas of right and wrong, of unity and number, of
time and space, order, proportion, similitude, truth, wis-
dom, power, obligation, succession, cause, effect, and
many others, have a like origin; at least there are none
of them to be ascribed directly and exclusively to the
senses. It is cheerfully granted, that, in determining this
point, it is proper to refer to the common experience of
mankind, and to rely upon it. But it is believed in all
these instances (certainly in the most of them) that such
a reference will be amply decisive.
Let it, then, be left to the candid internal examination
of each individual to determine, Whether a distinction be
not rightly drawn between the origin of these ideas, and
that of those which we attribute to the senses, such as
red, blue, sweet, fragrant, bitter, hard, smooth, loud, soft,
extended, &c.? On this question it is thought that, in
general, there can be but one answer, although some wri-
ters, through the love of excessive simplification, have
been betrayed into error in regard to it.
Hence it is distinctly to be kept in mind, that there are
two sources of thought and knowledge. An affection of
the senses by means of external objects is the immediate
INTERNAL ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE.
231
occasion of one portion; the constitution of the mind and
its operations are the occasions or source of the other.
Those notions which can be ascribed directly to any
one of the senses as their specific source, and not merely
as an indirect and general occasion of their origin, are
External, while all others seem to be entitled to be called
Internal. And yet it will be recollected that we have
found it necessary to treat of some notions under the
general head of External Knowledge, not precisely cor-
responding to the view now given. The mental states
which we now have reference to, were found, however,
to be so closely connected in their origin with the exer-
cise of the senses, or with some other affection of the
bodily system (such as the idea of externality, the uneasy
feeling of hunger, thirst, &c.), as to come under consid-
eration somewhat more naturally there than in any sub-
sequent part of our inquiries.
§ 176. Imperfections attendant on classifications in mental philosophy.
The remarks just made naturally lead us to embrace
this opportunity to suggest a caution applicable to the
subject of Classification in mental philosophy in general.
It will be recollected, that the first general arrangement
of the states of the mind was into the three great Divis-
ions of Intellectual, Sensitive, and Voluntary. Beginning
with the INTELLECTUAL part of our nature, we found our
intellections susceptible of being divided into those of an
External and those of an Internal origin; and have
hitherto directed our inquiries with a reference to this di-
vision. Now the remark we would make is, that the
classifications just referred to, and all other general class-
ifications in mental philosophy, although they may be
theoretically and philosophically true, are nevertheless
not always easy and satisfactory in their application.
As the mind begins to operate in all its parts and in all
its relations nearly simultaneously (and certainly at a
very early period of life), the history of its multiplied
acts and feelings becomes very much interwoven and
perplexed. In the matter of Classification, therefore, no-
thing more is to be expected than a general outline, ap-
proximating as nearly as possible to an expression of
232
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
what is conceived to be the truth; our inquiries are to be
directed by such general outline so far as can be done
consistently with the often involved and complicated na-
ture of the mental operations; but, after all, the value of
our investigations will depend essentially and chiefly on
the accuracy of the details.
We make these remarks here, because some who assent
to the general arrangement may perhaps imagine that
they see reason for an alteration in the disposition of the
subordinate parts. And we readily admit that cases are
to be found where it is somewhat difficult to determine
under what general head particular thoughts are to be
placed, and particular mental exercises and associations
are to be arranged. But if, as before intimated, the out-
lines of the system be generally correct or nearly so, and
the details, although they may sometimes be wrongly
placed relatively to such outlines, be given with accuracy,
not much will be found which there will be occasion to
object to.
CHAPTER II.
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
§ 177. Import of suggestion, and its application in Reid and Stewart.
SOME of the cases of thought and knowledge, which
the mind becomes possessed of in itself, without the di-
rect aid of the senses, are to be ascribed to Suggestion.
This word, in its application here, is used merely to ex-
press a simple but important fact, viz., That the mind,
by its own activity and vigour, gives rise to certain
thoughts. Without any mixture of hypothesis, or any
qualifying intimation whatever, it gives the fact, and that
is all. The use of this word, as applicable to the origin
of a portion of human knowledge, is distinctly proposed
by Dr. Reid. In his Inquiry into the Human Mind (chap.
ii., § 7), he speaks of certain notions (for instance, those
of existence, mind, person, &c.) as the "judgments of
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
233
nature, judgments not got by comparing ideas, and per-
ceiving agreements and disagreements, but immediately
inspired by our constitution." Pursuing this train of
thought, he further remarks: "It is incumbent on those
who think that these are not natural principles [that is,
notions called forth within us, independently of reason-
ing], to show how we can otherwise get the notion of
mind and its faculties." Again, immediately after, he as-
cribes those notions which cannot be attributed directly to
the senses on the one hand, nor to the reasoning power
on the other, to an internal or mental Suggestion, as fol-
lows." I beg leave to make use of the word SUGGESTION,
because I know not one more proper, to express a power
of the mind, which seems entirely to have escaped the
notice of philosophers, and to which we owe many of
our simple. notions, which are neither impressions nor
ideas, as well as many original principles of belief. I
shall endeavour to illustrate by example what I under-
stand by this word. We all know that a certain kind of
sound suggests immediately to the mind a coach passing
in the street; and not only produces the imagination, but
the belief, that a coach is passing. Yet there is here no
comparing of ideas, no perception of agreements or disa-
greements, to produce this belief; nor is there the least
similitude between the sound we hear, and the coach we
imagine and believe to be passing.
"It is true that this suggestion," referring to the illus-
tration he had just given," is not natural and original; it
is the result of experience and habit. But I think it ap-
pears, from what hath been said, that there are NATURAL
SUGGESTIONS; particularly that sensation suggests the no-
tion of present existence, and the belief that what we per-
ceive or feel does now exist; that memory suggests the
notion of past existence, and the belief that what we re-
member did exist in time past; and that our sensations
and thoughts do also suggest the notion of a mind, and
the belief of its existence, and of its relation to our
thoughts. By a like natural principle it is that a begin-
ning of existence, or any change in nature, suggests to us
the notion of a cause, and compels our belief of its exist-
ence. And, in like manner, as shall be shown when we
U 2
234
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
come to the sense of touch, certain sensations of touch,
by the constitution of our nature, suggest to us extension,
solidity, and motion, which are nowise like to sensations,
although they have hitherto been confounded with them.”
-We find similar sentiments in various other places.
Mr. Stewart also, in his Philosophical Essays, speaks
of certain mental phenomena as attendant upon the ob-
jects of our consciousness, and as SUGGESTED by them.
The notions of time, number, motion, memory, sameness,
personal identity, present existence, &c., he ascribes nei-
ther to the external world on the one hand, nor to the in-
ternal mental operations, of which we are conscious, on
the other; except so far as they are the occasions, on
which the mind brings them out, or SUGGESTS them from
its own inherent energy. Of the notion of DURATION, for
instance, he would say, I do not see it, nor hear it, nor
feel it, nor become acquainted with it by means of any
other of the senses; nor am I conscious of it, as I am of
believing, reasoning, imagining, &c., but it is SUGGESTED
by the mind itself; it is an intimation absolutely essential
to the mind's nature and action.
It will be noticed that Dr. Reid has not limited the use
of the word Suggestion exclusively to those ideas, the oc-
casions of which are purely internal. Nor was this ne-
cessary. Those cases, however, where suggestion is
brought into exercise by occasions chiefly external (as,
for instance, in forming the notions of externality, space,
and motion), are comparatively few in number. As a
general statement, the occasions of its exercise are either
wholly of an interior nature, or with only a slight mixture
of outward circumstances.
§ 178. Ideas of existence, mind, self-existence, and personal identity.
We shall now mention a few ideas which have this
origin, without undertaking to give a complete enumera-
tion of them. (I.) EXISTENCE. Among the various no-
tions, the origin of which naturally requires to be consid-
ered under the head of Suggestion, is that of Existence.
What existence is in itself (that is to say, independently
of any existent being), it would be useless to inquire.
Using the word as expressive of a mental state, it is the
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
235
name of a purely simple idea, and cannot be defined.
The history of its rise is briefly this: Such is our nature
that we cannot exist without having the notion of exist-
ence. So that the origin of the idea of existence is in-
separable from the mere fact that we have a percipient
and sentient nature. An insentient being may exist with-
out having any such idea. But man, being constituted
with powers of perception, cannot help perceiving that
he is what he is. If we think, then there is something
which has this capability of thought; if we feel, then
there is not only the mere act of feeling, but something
also which puts forth the act.
(II.) MIND. The origin of the notion of Mind is similar
to that of existence. Neither of them can be strictly and
properly referred to the senses. We do not see the mind,
nor is it an object of touch, or of taste, or of any other
sense. Nor, on the other hand, is the notion of mind a
direct object of the memory, or of reasoning, or of ima-
gination. The notion arises naturally, or is SUGGESTED
from the mere fact, that the mind actually exists, and is
susceptible of various feelings and operations.-The same
may be said of all the distinct powers of the mind, such
as the power of perception, of memory, of association, of
imagination, of the will; not of the acts or exercises of
these powers, it will be noticed, but of the powers them-
selves. That is to say, they are made known to us, con-
sidered abstractly and as distinct subjects of thought, not
by direct perception, either inward or outward, but by
spontaneity or suggestion. We say not by direct per-
ception, because there is something intermediate between
the power and the knowledge of it, viz., the act or exer-
cise of the power, which is the occasion of the knowledge
of the power itself. The principle of Original Sugges-
tion, availing itself of this occasion, gives us a knowledge
of the distinct susceptibilities of the mind, just as it does
of the mind as a whole.
(III.) Similar remarks, as far as spontaneity is con-
cerned, will apply to the notions (whether we consider
them as simple or complex) of SELF-EXISTENCE and PER-
SONAL IDENTITY. At the very earliest period they flow
out, as it were, from the mind itself; not resulting from
M
236
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
ary prolonged and laborious process, but freely and spon-
taneously suggested by it. This is so true, that no one
is able to designate either the precise time, or the pre-
cise circumstances under which they originate; for they
spring into being under all circumstances. We cannot
look, or touch, or breathe, or move, or think without them.
These are products of our mental nature too essential and
important to be withheld, or to be given only on rare and
doubtful occasions; but are brought into existence in all
times and places, and under all the varieties of action and
feeling. (See, in connexion with this section, § 4, 5, 6.)
◊ 179. Origin of the idea of externality.
In giving an account of the origin of ideas, it is proper,
in this connexion, to refer to the notion of outwardness
or externality. Outwardness, although it is involved in
everything which the senses have a connexion with, is,
nevertheless, not a direct subject of the senses. As in
other cases of ideas of internal origin, we do not, in strict-
ness of speech, smell it, or taste it, or see it, or hear it, or
touch it; and yet there is nothing which we see, taste,
hear, or touch, of which externality is not predicable.
The simple fact is, that the senses (or, rather, in this case
one of them, that of TOUCH) furnish the occasion (not the
thing itself, but simply the occasion) on which the Intel-
lect, in virtue of its own spontaneity of action, gives us
a knowledge of it. We have already had opportunity
(§ 70) to speak of this idea as a most important one;
as the connecting thought, which introduces us to a new
manifestation of existence, different from that interior
existence, which we variously call by the names spirit,
mind, or soul. It is evident, if we could not form the
idea of externality, everything which is the subject of
mental experience would seem to be wholly internal,
mere modifications of the inward or mental being. It is
this idea, taken in connexion with the circumstances of
its origin, which solves what has sometimes been consid-
ered a great mystery. The question is often asked, How
is it possible that the mind should pass over from the cir-
cle of its own existence, the limits of its own actual per-
sonality, into the region and the knowledge of things
-
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
237
wholly different from itself? If we will interrogate na-
ture, and rest satisfied with her responses, the matter is
simple. It is the power that gives us a knowledge of
Mind, and uniting mind with its operations gives us the
idea of Personality, and combining the present with the
past originates the idea and the conviction of Personal
Identity, which assures us also of outwardness, of an ex-
ternality inconsistent with the assumption of all things
into our own nature; the power, overlooked too often,
and still more frequently estimated too lightly, of Origi-
nal Suggestion. Nature has implanted within us this
spontaneity of thought, this intuitive directness of per-
ception, and thus taken care to furnish important ele-
ments of knowledge, which could be possessed in no other
way.
§ 180. Idea of matter or material existence.
It is here also that we find the basis of our conception
of MATTER or material existence, when considered in dis-
tinction from the mere outward presentations or attributes
of matter. The connexion which we have with the ma-
terial world by means of the senses, makes us acquainted
with whatever is strictly appropriate to those senses,
such as colour, taste, hardness or softness, extension, &c.
When, for instance, we look on a piece of wood or any
other of those material bodies by which we are surround-
ed, an impression is made on the organ of vision, and
we have the sensation, or, as we sometimes express it,
the idea of colour. By applying the hand to the wood,
we learn the penetrability or impenetrability, the softness
or hardness of the mass which we hold. By moving the
hand from one point to another in the mass, we are in-
formed of the continuity or extension of its parts. But
it does not appear that we are able, by means of the
senses alone, to carry our inquiries beneath the surface
of the body in such a way or to such a degree as to be-
come directly acquainted with that interior something,
whatever it is, which is the basis or support of these qual-
ities. The external or sensible Intellect (that is, the in-
tellect operating by means of the senses) furnishes sim-
ply the occasion of the idea of matter or material exist-
238
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
ence; while the internal or pure Intellect (that is, the
intellect independent of the senses), acting upon that oc-
casion, and availing itself of its power of Original Sug-
gestion, brings into existence and realizes the idea itself.
-This is the simple statement of the fact; but it appears
to be abundantly authenticated by the common expe-
rience of men. That which is outward and operates upon
the senses, that which we taste, and see, and handle, is
presented to us (in other words, we regard it) in the
light of an attribute or quality rather than of substance.
But the very idea of a quality or attribute implies as the
antecedent condition of its own existence, an object or
subject to which it belongs. The idea of such a subject
or object is, under these circumstances (that is to say,
when anything presents itself to our notice in the aspect
of an attribute or quality), not only naturally and neces-
sarily suggested to us, but it obviously compels our be-
lief. As we have already had occasion to remark (§
132), we believe, and we cannot help believing, that
there is some basis, some foundation, which is the sup-
port of the various attributes and qualities which are pre-
sented to our senses; just as we have the idea and be-
lieve in the existence of a God, although we know no-
thing of his interior essence or nature, but only of his
manifestations, attributes, or operations; or as we have
the idea of mind suggested to us, and fully believe in
the existence of mind, although mind is entirely inacces-
sible in itself, and is made known wholly by those vari-
ous acts of which we are conscious, such as perceiving,
remembering, reasoning, willing, and the like.
.
§ 181. Origin of the idea of motion.
The idea of Motion, one of those with which we are
most early and familiarly acquainted, is of internal and
suggestive origin. Motion does not appear to be ad-
dressed directly to the senses. We can see things in
motion, but not motion itself; we can touch things in
motion but motion itself is not accessible and knowable
by that sense, nor by any other. When bodies move
from each other, this new state of things is always indi-
cated by a change in the appearance of the respective
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
239
bodies, such as increased dimness of colour, diminished
size, obscurity in the outline, &c. The relation of things,
considered in regard to mere position, is disturbed and
altered also. Under these circumstances, the idea of
motion is naturally and necessarily suggested. And it
exists with all that degree of definiteness and distinctness
which is necessary for our present purposes.
§ 182. Of the nature of unity and the origin of that notion.
Another important notion, properly entitled to a con-
sideration here, is that of UNITY. We shall decline at-
tempting to explain the nature of unity, for the simple
reason that nothing is more easy to be understood; every
child knows what is meant by one. And how can we
explain it, if we would? We can explain a hundred by
resolving it into parts; we can explain fifty or a score
by making a like separation of the whole number into
the subordinate portions of which it is made up; but
when we arrive at unity, we must stop, and can go no
further.
It is true, attempts have been made to define it, but,
like many other such attempts, they have proved futile.
Unity has been called a thing indivisible in itself, and
divided from everything else. But this makes us no
wiser. Is it anything more than to say that the unity
of an object is its indivisibility? Or, in other words, that
its unity is its unity?
As the idea of unity is one of the simplest, so it is one
of the earliest notions which men have. It originates in
the same way, and very nearly at the same time, with the
notions of existence, self-existence, personal identity, and
the like. When a man has a notion of himself, he evi-
dently does not think of himself as two, three, or a dozen
men, but as one. As soon as he is able to think of him-
self as distinct from his neighbour, as soon as he is in no
danger of mingling and confounding his own identity with
that of the multitude around him, so soon does he form
the notion of unity. It exists as distinct in his mind as
the idea of his own existence does; and arises there im-
mediately successive to that idea, because it is impossi-
L
240
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
ble, in the nature of things, that he should have a notion
of himself as a twofold or divided person.
Unity is the fundamental element of all enumeration.
By the repetition or adding of this element, we are able
to form numbers to any extent. These numbers may be
combined among themselves, and employed merely as ex-
pressive of mutual relations, or we may apply them, if we
choose, to all external objects whatever, to which we are
able to give a common name.-(See § 145.)
§ 183. Nature of succession, and origin of the idea of succession.
Another of those conceptions which naturally offer
themselves to our notice here, is that of SUCCESSION. This
term (when we inquire what succession is in itself) is
one of general application, expressive of a mode of ex-
istence rather than of existence itself; and in its appli-
cation to mind in particular, expressive of a condition of
the mind's action, but not of the action itself, which that
condition regulates. It is certainly a fact too well known
to require comment, that our minds exist at different pe-
riods in successive states; that our thoughts and feelings,
in obedience to a permanent law, follow each other in a
train. This is the simple fact. And the fact of such
succession, whenever it takes place, forms the occasion on
which the notion or idea of succession is sUGGESTED to the
mind. Being a simple mental state, it is not susceptible
of definition; yet every man possesses it, and every one
is rightly supposed to understand its nature.
Accordingly, it is not necessary to refer the origin of
this idea to anything external. It is certain that the
sense of smell cannot directly give us the idea of succes-
sion, nor the sense of taste, nor of touch. And we well
know that the deaf and dumb possess it not less than
others. The blind also, who have never seen the face of
heaven, nor beheld that sun and moon which measure
out for us days, and months, and years, have the notion of
succession. They feel, they think, they reason, at least
in some small degree, like other men; and it is impossi-
ble that they should be without it. The origin, there-
fore, of this notion is within; it is the unfailing result of
the inward operation to call it forth, however true it may
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
241
be that it is subsequently applied to outward objects and
events.
§ 184. Origin of the notion of duration.
There is usually understood to be a distinction between
the idea of succession and that of duration, though nei-
ther can be defined. The idea of succession is supposed
to be antecedent in point of time to that of duration (we
speak now of succession and duration relatively to our
conception of them, and not in themselves considered).
Duration must be supposed to exist antecedently to suc-
cession in the order of nature; but succession is the form
in which it is made to apply to men; and is, therefore,
naturally the occasion on which the idea of it arises in
men's minds. Having the notion of succession, and that
of personal or self-existence, a foundation is laid for the
additional conception of permanency or duration; in
other words, it naturally arises in the mind, or is suggest-
ed, under these circumstances.
As we cannot, according to this view of its origin,
have the notion of duration without succession, hence it
happens that we know nothing of duration when we are
perfectly asleep, because we are not then conscious of
those intellectual changes which are involved in succes-
sion. If a person could sleep with a perfect suspension
of all his mental operations from this time until the res-
urrection, the whole of that period would appear to him
as nothing. Ten thousand years passed under such cir-
cumstances would be less than a few days or even hours.
That the notion of succession (we do not say succes-
sion itself, but only our notion or idea of it) is antece-
dent to, and is essential to that of duration, is in some
measure proved by various facts. There are on record a
number of cases of remarkable somnolency, in which
persons have slept for weeks and even months. One of
the most striking is that of Samuel Chilton, a labourer of
Tinsbury, near Bath, in England. On one occasion, in
the year 1696, he slept from the ninth of April to the
seventh of August, about seventeen weeks, being kept
alive by small quantities of wine poured down his throat.
He then awoke, dressed himself, and walked about the
VOL. I.-X

242
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
room, "being perfectly unconscious that he had slept
more than one night. Nothing, indeed, could make him
believe that he had slept so long, till, upon going to the
fields, he saw crops of barley and oats ready for the
sickle, which he remembered were only sown when he
last visited them."
""*
The result is similar when the suspension of the mental
action is caused in any other way. It is related, for in-
stance, of a British captain at the battle of the Nile, that
he was giving an order from the quarter-deck of his ves-
sel, when a shot struck him in the head, depriving him
instantaneously of sense and speech. Living, however,
he was taken home, and remained in this condition for
the period of fifteen months in the Greenwich Hospital.
At the end of that period, during which he had exhibited
no signs of intelligence, an operation was performed on
him by a skilful surgeon, that restored him at once to the
exercise of his mental faculties. And it is stated, as the
first result of this mental restoration, that he immediately
rose in his bed, and completed the order which had been
so abruptly interrupted so many months before.
In the Proceedings of the French Royal Academy of
Sciences in 1719, there is also a statement illustrative of
the subject under consideration, to the following effect.—
There was in Lausanne a nobleman, who, as he was giv-
ing orders to a servant, suddenly lost his speech and all
his senses. Different remedies were tried, but, for a very
considerable time, without effect. For six months he
appeared to be in a deep sleep, unconscious of every-
thing. At the end of that period, however, resort hav-
ing been had to certain surgical operations, he was sud-
denly restored to his speech and the exercise of his un-
derstanding. When he recovered, the servant to whom
he had been giving orders happening to be in the room,
he asked him if he had done what he had ordered him
to, not being sensible that any interval, except perhaps a
very short one, had elapsed during his illness.†
* The publication from which this statement is taken, and which con
tains others of similar import, refers to Frazer's Magazine as its authority.
†The Academy received this statement from Crousaz, Mathematical
Professor at Lausanne, and author of a Treatise on Logic, &c.-Per-
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION
243
§ 185. Of time and its measurements, and of eternity.
When duration is estimated or measured, we then call
it Time. Such measurements, as every one is aware, are
made by means of certain natural or artificial motions.
The annual revolution of the sun (using language in ac-
cordance with the common apprehensions on the subject)
marks off the portion of duration which we call a YEAR;
the revolution of the moon marks off another portion,
which we call a MONTH; the diurnal revolution of the sun
gives us the period of a DAY; the movements of the
hands over the face of a clock or watch give the dimin-
ished durations of hours and minutes. This is TIME,
which differs from duration only in the circumstance of
its being measured.
What we call Eternity is only a modified or imperfect
time; or, rather, time not completed. We look back
over the months, and days, and years of our former ex-
istence; we look forward and onward, and behold ages
crowding on ages, and time springing from time. And
in this way we are forcibly led to think of time unfinish-
ed, of time progressive but never completed; and to this
complex notion we give the name of Eternity.
§ 186. Marks or characteristics of time.
To this notice of the origin of the notion of time, it
will not be improper to add, as it is one of great impor-
tance, some of its marks or characteristics.-(1.) Time
(meaning by the term duration as existing in succession,
and as susceptible of being measured) is strictly and
properly predicable only of finite beings, and not of the
Supreme Being. It is evident that, in its application to
the human mind, time becomes a law or fixed condition
of the mental action, a restriction placed upon it, a sort
of veil, which would hide knowledge from us, were it not
that it is drawn up gradually, and lets it in by degrees.
But it is equally evident that there can be no law of this
nature restricting the Divine Mind. Those multiplied
facts and events, which are brought one after another
sons suddenly attacked by delirium and afterward restored, exhibit the
same unconsciousness and ignorance of the intermediate lapse of time.
—See Abercrombie's Intellectual Philosophy, Section on Insanity.
244
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
before the minds of men, in consequence of their limited
mental constitution, are spread out at once before the
Divine Mind, as on a map. Whether past, present, or
future, they are embraced and comprehended in a single
glance. In this respect there is not the slightest analogy
between the Supreme Mind and the minds of men.-(2.)
Time is not susceptible of any visible or outward repre-
sentation, as might be expected if its origin had been
external instead of internal. It is true, we apply lan-
guage to time, which would imply, if strictly interpreted,
that it has extension or length. We speak of a long or
short time, as if it were actually susceptible of material
measurement. But this is owing partly to certain casual
associations, and partly to the imperfection of language,
and not to anything in the nature of time itself. (See
the chapter on Casual Associations.)
(3.) Time, as it exists in our mental apprehension and
in its relation to the intellect, is inseparable from events.
Whatever event has taken place, whether it be some act
of men or some occurrence in nature, although we are ig-
norant of the hour, the day, or the month, we cannot
possibly conceive of it independently of time. This is
a fixed, immutable, and ultimate condition of all our
perceptions, so far as they regard events. That is to say,
we cannot think of them, we cannot conceive of them
as existing or taking place out of time.-(4.) Time, in its
specific and appropriate nature, is indestructible, while
the human soul remains the same it now does. It is not
within the limits of human capability to contemplate
events as the Supreme Being does, at once and simulta-
neously; but it can be done in succession alone; nor
have we reason to suppose that it will ever be otherwise.
It is true, the Angel shall at last appear, standing on
the land and the sea, and shall swear that time shall be
no longer; yet the time which the angel of the Apoca-
lypse is destined thus to abolish, is only that which is
measured by these stars, this moon, and the revolutions of
this earth. As long as the human soul exists, in whatev-
er part of the universe, there must at least be, not only
duration, but duration as existing in succession, unless the
nature of the soul be fundamentally changed.
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
245
§ 187. The idea of space not of external origin.
Another of those notions, the origin of which we pro-
pose to consider under the head of Suggestion, is the
idea of SPACE.-Perhaps it will be asked why we have
disregarded in this instance the authority and example of
Mr. Locke, who has ranked it with the notions of Exter-
nal origin, or, in his own phraseology, with those which
come into the mind by the way of sensation. And cer-
tainly it might be expected that we should assent to that
arrangement, if it could be definitely shown to us which
of the senses it is to be ascribed to. But it is obvious that
this cannot easily be done.
If it were of external origin, if it could properly be
said to come into the mind by the way of sensation, we
should be able to make such a reference of it. But let
us inquire. It will evidently not be pretended that the
notion of space is to be ascribed to the senses of taste, of
smell, or of hearing. And can it be ascribed to the sense
of touch? Is it a matter of feeling? A single consider-
ation will suggest a satisfactory answer. It will certain-
ly be acknowledged that we can have no knowledge by
the sense of touch (with the single exception perhaps of
the ideas of heat and cold, which are sometimes ascribed
to it) of anything which does not present some resistance.
The degree of resistance may greatly vary, but there
will be always some. But no one will undertake to say
that resistance is a quality of space, or enters in any way
into his notion of it.
Nor are there less obvious objections to regarding it as
a direct object of sight. The sense of sight gives us no
direct knowledge of anything but of colours; all other vis-
ual perceptions are original in the sense of touch, and are
made the property of the sight by transference. No one
certainly ever speaks of space as red, or white, or of any
other colour, or conceives of it as such.
There is another consideration, adverse to ascribing the
idea of space to the senses, applicable equally to the
sight and the touch. Everything coming within the cog-
nizance of those two senses (with the exception already
alluded to) has form, limits, bounds, place, &c. But the
idea to which we are now attending is utterly exclusive
X 2
246
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
of everything of this nature; it is not susceptible of cir-
cumscription and figure. So far from it, when we escape
beyond the succession of circumscribed and insulated ob-
jects, we have but just entered within its empire. If we
let the mind range forth beyond the forms immediately
surrounding us, beyond the world itself, beyond all the
systems of worlds in the universe; if we stand in our con-
ception on the verge of the remotest star, and look down-
ward and upward, it is then the idea of space rushes
upon the mind with a power before unknown.-These
considerations clearly lead to the conclusion that the no-
tion of space is not susceptible of being ascribed directly
to sensation in any of its forms, and is not, in the proper
sense of the terms, of external origin. It may perhaps
be maintained, that we shall find an adequate account of
its origin if we combine the aid of abstraction with sen-
sation. It is admitted, that by the sense of touch we have
a knowledge of the extension of bodies, which includes,
when it is contemplated under different views, length,
breadth, height, &c. But still it does not appear how ab-
straction, applied to extension, or anything included in
extension, can give us space. It is evident that the ab-
stract notion which we form of the length of a body is
different from the one in question. And if we abstract
height or breadth, these also come short of giving us
space. If we could abstract height, length, and breadth
at once, and then combine them together, we should not
even then have space, but, on the contrary, a solid body.
§ 188. The idea of space has its origin in suggestion.
What then shall we say of the origin of the notion of
space? When pressed on this point we have but one
answer to give; it is the natural offspring of the mind; it
is a creation of the soul, wholly inseparable from its ele-
mentary constitution and action; an intimation, coming
from an interior and original impulse. The opinion of
Cousin (not to mention that of others of a like import)
closely approximates to this statement. After criticising
upon Locke, as Mr. Stewart has done before him, and as-
serting the futility of pretending to derive this notion di-
rectly from the senses, he adds as follows: "Au contraire
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
247
1
l'ideé d'espace nous est donneé, à l'occasion de l'idee de
corps, par la penseé, l'entendement, l'esprit, la raison, enfin
par une puissance autre que la sensation.”*
It remains to be added, that, while we cannot directly
refer the notion in question to the senses, we cannot even
state with certainty any particular occasion on which it
arises, for we have the notion at a period further back
than we can remember. On this point, however, it is un-
doubtedly true, that we may advance opinions more or
less probable. It is, for instance, a supposition not alto-
gether worthless, that motion may have been the original
occasion of the rise of this idea. At an early period we
moved the hand, either to grasp something removed at a
little distance, or in the mere playful exercise of the mus-
cles, or perhaps we transferred the whole body from one
position to another; and it is at least no impossibility,
that on such an occasion the idea of space may have been
called forth in the soul.
But there is another supposition still more entitled to
notice, the one referred to in the above quotation from
Cousin. Our acquaintance with external bodies by means
of the senses may have been the occasion of its rise, al-
though the senses themselves are not its direct source.
It is certain that we cannot contemplate any body what-
ever, an apple, a rose, a tree, a house, without always
finding the idea of space a ready and necessary concom-
itant. We cannot conceive of a body which is nowhere.
So that we may at least date the origin of the idea of
space as early as our acquaintance with any external
body whatever. In other words, it is a gift of the mind,
made simultaneously with its earliest external perceptions.
§ 189. Characteristic marks of the notion of space.
What has been said has prepared the way for the bet-
ter understanding of the characteristic marks of space, as
it exists in the mind's view of it. Of these marks there
are four which will help to distinguish it.-(1.) Like du-
ration or time, space is not capable of being visibly repre-
sented. The remarks which have already been made
clearly evince this. Nothing can be visibly represented
* L'Histoire de la Philosophie, tome ii., Dix-septieme Leçon.
248
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
which does not come within the direct range and cogni-
żance of the senses, as space does not.-(2.) It has no
form nor limits. This might, perhaps, be considered as
naturally resulting from the characteristic first mentioned.
And, besides, we may safely appeal here to general expe-
rience, and assert without hesitation that no man limits
space in his conception of it, nor is it even in his power
so to do.
(3.) It is absolute and necessary. We speak of a thing
as absolute which is not dependant on another, and is un-
alterable. This is not the case with anything whatever
which we become acquainted with by means of the di-
rect agency of the senses. All such bodies are constantly
changing, and there is no difficulty in the supposition that
they may all be struck out of existence. But it is im-
possible for us to associate the idea of non-existence with
space. It is unalterably the same. But there is evident-
ly nothing unalterable which is not naturally and neces-
sarily so. It is on this ground, therefore, that we assign
to space the characteristic of being absolute and necessary.
—(4.) A fourth characteristic is, that it is the condition
of the existence of all bodies; that is to say, it is impos-
sible for us to conceive of a body without associating the
notion of space with it. We are so constituted that
what we understand by space is utterly inseparable from
everything outward which has outlines and form. So
that we may truly say of space that it is the condition of
the existence of all bodies, at least relatively to ourselves.
And hence, as it is internally conceived of, it becomes a
great law of the mind, modifying and limiting all its out-
ward perceptions. We cannot conceive of objects out of
space any more than we can conceive of events out of
time. It is true, the poet Gray represents Milton as hav-
ing, in his Paradise Lost, scaled the limits which time
and space impose on human conceptions; the flaming
bounds, as he calls them. But this is only the license and
fiction of a poet. If that should ever happen which he
has so sublimely imagined, and men should ever break
through those great and unalterable barriers which God
has erected between himself and inferior intelligences,
we might well anticipate the result which the same glow-
ing fancy has indicated:
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
249
"They saw, but, blasted with excess of light,
Closed their eyes in endless night."
§ 190. Of the origin of the idea of power.
Under the head of Suggestion the idea of POWER prop-
erly belongs. Every man has this notion; every one feels,
too, that there is a corresponding reality; in other words,
power is not only a mere subject of thought, but has, in
some important sense, a real existence. And we may
add that every one knows, although there is somewhere
a great original fountain of power, independent of all
created beings, that he has a portion (small indeed it
may be, but yet a portion) of the element of power in
his own mind and in his own person. There is indeed a
Power, unexplored and invisible, which has reared the
mountains, which rolls the ocean, and which propels the
sun in his course; but it is nevertheless true, that man,
humble as he is in the scale of rational and accountable
beings, possesses, as an attribute of his own nature, an
amount of real efficiency suited to the limited sphere
which Providence has allotted him. This is a simple
statement of the fact. Power goes hand in hand with
existence, intelligence, and accountability. There is no
existence, either intelligent or unintelligent, without
pow-
er, either in the thing itself, or in something else which
sustains it. There is no accountable existence without
power, existing in and participating in such existence,
and constituting the basis of its accountability.
But the principal question here is, not what power is
in itself, nor whether man possesses power in fact, but
under what circumstances the notion or idea of power
arises in the human mind. The occasions of the origin
of this idea, so far as we are able to judge, appear to be
threefold.-(1.) All cases of antecedence and sequence
in the natural world. We are so constituted that, in con-
nexion with such cases of antecedence and sequence, we
are led, at a very early period of life, to frame the prop-
osition and to receive it as an undeniable truth, that there
can be no beginning or change of existence without a
cause This proposition involves the idea of efficiency
or power.-(2.) The control of the will over the muscu-
250
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
lar action. We are so constituted that, whenever we
will to put a part of the body in motion, and the motion
follows the volition, we have the idea of power.-(3.)
The control of the will over the other mental powers.
Within certain limits and to a certain extent there seems
to be ground for supposing that the will is capable of ex-
ercising a directing control over the mental as well as
over the bodily powers. And whenever we are con-
scious of such control being exercised, whether it be
greater or less, occasion is furnished for the origin of this
idea. It is then called forth or SUGGESTED. It is not
seen by the material eye, nor reached by the sense of
touch; but, emerging of itself from the mind, like a star
from the depths of the firmament, it reveals itself dis-
tinctly and brightly to the intellectual vision.
§ 191. Origin of the idea of the first or primitive.
The mind, satisfied with nothing short of the elements
and foundations of knowledge, seeks, in its inquiry into
the origin and causation of things, not only for the ele-
ment of Power, but also for the FIRST cause, the antece-
dent which has no other antecedent, the PRIMITIVE. When-
ever we see a thing, we are naturally led to think of, and
to inquire for the beginning of that thing. There is a
sort of natural consanguinity of events, an unalterable tie,
which binds the present with the past, and the past with
that which is still further back in the depths of time.
The thing, the event, the fact (whatever exists or takes
place), calls for that to which it is related, the antecedent
and basis of its own existence, in the language of Scrip-
ture, as "deep calls to deep." Hence the idea of the
Primitive. This important notion (which we variously
express by the words FIRST, ORIGINAL, BEGINNING, and the
like) originates in the Intellect rather than in Sense, and
in that particular form of intellectual activity which we
denominate Suggestion. It is obvious, while we can see,
or hear, or touch anything which is an object of the out-
ward senses, we cannot, with strict propriety and truth of
speech, be said to touch or see its antecedence or primi-
tiveness. In fact, there is only one object, and that no
other than the Supreme Being himself, to whom this idea,
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
251
with absolute truth or strictness, will apply at all. We
look at the works of man and the works of nature; ev-
erything which has form or activity; the sun, the moon,
the stars, the ocean, the forests. But the mind, not sat-
isfied with the perception of the thing, looks still further
for its cause, its effective antecedent, the foundation of its
existence. It inquires, who reared the forest, who rolls
the ocean, who made the sun? The mind itself, there-
fore, suggests the notion of something which goes before,
of PRIORITY; and, advancing under the impulses of its
own nature, it proceeds from step to step, from star to
star, from existence to existence, till it finds the absolute
Primitive in that great Being, who involves in the fact of
his Supremacy not only the subordination, but the subse-
quence of all things else. And it is to be kept in mind,
that it is found there, not as a matter of outward, but of
inward perception; revealed, not to the understanding,
perceiving through the restricted instrumentality of the
senses, but to the understanding, perceiving in the intuitive
light of its own spontaneous action.
§ 192. Of the ideas of right and wrong.
Right and Wrong also are conceptions of the pure Un-
derstanding; that is, of the Understanding operating in
virtue of its own interior nature, and not as dependant on
the senses. We are constituted intellectually in such a
manner, that, whenever occasions of actual right or wrong
occur, whenever objects fitted to excite a moral approval
or disapproval are presented to our notice, the ideas of
RIGHT and WRONG naturally and necessarily arise within
us. In respect to these ideas or intellections (if we choose
to employ an expressive term partially fallen into disuse),
Cudworth, Stewart, Cousin, and other writers of acknowl-
edged discernment and weight, appear to agree in pla-
cing the origin of them here. And this arrangement of
them is understood to be important in connexion with
the theory of Morals. If these ideas originate in the pure
intellect, and are simple, as they obviously are, then each
of them necessarily has its distinctive nature; each of
them is an entity by itself; and it is impossible to con-
ceive of them as identical or interchangeable with each
252
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
हुल
other. They are as truly unlike as our conceptions of
unity and time, or of space and power. And if this is
true of our ideas of right and wrong, it is not less so of
right and wrong themselves. In other words, right can
never become wrong, nor wrong right; they are placed
forever apart, each occupying its own sphere; and thus
we have a foundation laid for the important doctrine of
the immutability of moral distinctions.-"The distinction
between right and wrong," says Cousin (Psychology,
chap. 5)," may be incorrectly applied, may vary in regard
to particular objects, and may become clearer and more
correct in time, without ceasing to be with all men the
same thing at the bottom. It is a universal conception
of Reason, and hence it is found in all languages, those
products and faithful images of the mind. Not only is
this distinction universal, but it is a necessary conception.
In vain does the reason, after having once received, at-
tempt to deny it, or call in question its truth. It cannot.
One cannot at will regard the same action as just and un-
just. These two ideas baffle every attempt to commute
them, the one for the other. Their objects may change,
but never their nature.”
J
§ 193. Origin of the ideas of moral merit and demerit.
Closely connected with the ideas of right and wrong
are the ideas of moral MERIT and DEMERIT. In the order
of nature (what is sometimes called the logical order),
the ideas of right and wrong come first. Without pos-
sessing the antecedent notions of right and wrong, it
would be impossible for us to frame the ideas of moral
merit and demerit. For what merit can we possibly at-
tach to him in whom we discover no rectitude; or what
demerit in him in whom we discover no want of it!
Merit always implies virtue as its antecedent and neces-
sary condition, while demerit as certainly implies the
want of it or vice. Although the ideas of merit and de-
merit, in consequence of being simple, are undefinable,
there can be no doubt of their existence, and of their
being entirely clear to our mental perception; and that
they furnish a well-founded and satisfactory basis for
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
253
many of our judgments in respect to the moral character
and conduct of mankind.
194. Of other elements of knowledge developed in suggestion.
In giving an account of the ideas from this source, we
have preferred, as designative of their origin, the term
SUGGESTION, proposed and employed by Reid and Stewart,
to the word REASON, proposed by Kant, and adopted by
Cousin and some other writers, as, on the whole, more con-
formable to the prevalent usage of the English language
In common parlance and by the established usage of the
language, the word REASON is expressive of the deductive
rather than of the suggestive faculty; and if we annul or
perplex the present use of that word by a novel applica-
tion of it, we must introduce a new word to express the
process of deduction. Whether we are correct in this or
not, we shall probably find no disagreement or opposition
in asserting, not only the existence, but the great impor-
tance of the intellectual capability which we have been
considering. The thing, and the nature of the thing, is
undoubtedly of more consequence than the mere name.
In leaving this interesting topic, we would not be un-
derstood to intimate that the notions of existence, mind,
personal identity, unity, succession, motion, duration,
power, and the others which have been mentioned, are
all which Suggestion furnishes. It might not be easy to
make a complete enumeration ; but, in giving an account
of the genesis of human knowledge, may we not ascribe
the ideas of truth, freedom, design or intelligence, neces-
sity, fitness or congruity, reality, order, plurality, totality,
immensity, possibility, infinity, happiness, reward, pun-
ishment, and perhaps many others, to this source? In
particular, may we not assign here (such is the doctrine,
and one of the excellences of the system of Kant) the
abstract conceptions of Beauty and Deformity? It is
true that we feel the Beautiful and its opposite by the in-
ward Sensibilities, as we shall have occasion to notice
and explain when we come to that interesting view of
the mind. But is it not true also that we conceive or
have an idea of it by the intellect? We may not be
able to tell what the BEAUTIFUL is, but does not the intel-
VOL. I.-Y
254
ORIGINAL SUGGESTION.
lect, by a spontaneous and effective intimation, assure us
of the fact of its existence? And if there is a Beauti-
ful, is there not also a Deformed, and, of course, a fixed
and immutable distinction between them? Could we
have a distinct idea of the Beautiful without an idea of
the Deformed, any more than we could have an idea of
Right without an idea of Wrong? Our opinions as to
what is in fact beautiful may vary in a given case; but
that does not prove the absence of the reality, nor alter
the essentialities of its nature. It is a common remark
that religion is practically no religion to those who have
no faith in it; so the Beautiful is practically annihilated
to those who have not the power of perceiving it; but,
independent of the circumstance of its being perceived or
not, it is the Beautiful still; like the sweet song of the
bird in the desert, the same in itself, though there is no
one to hear it and rejoice in it. So that we cannot but
assent to those who assert that the foundations of Aes-
thetics (that is, the science of the Beautiful as applied to
nature and the arts) are firm; not depending upon vari-
able circumstances, but substantiated by the permanency
of nature. And hence it has happened, that what was
beautiful and pleasing to mankind four thousand years
ago, is beautiful and pleasing still, simply because Beau-
ty in nature, like Rectitude in morals, is, in the element
and substance of its constitution, indestructible and inva-
riable. The idea of the Beautiful, as thus explained, is
made known by Suggestion.
§ 195. Suggestion a source of principles as well as of ideas.
One remark more remains to be made. Original Sug-
gestion is not only the source of ideas (and particularly
of ideas fundamental and unalterable), but also of prin-
ciples. The reasoning faculty, which in its nature is es-
sentially comparative and deductive, must have some-
thing to rest upon back of itself, and of still higher au-
thority than itself, with which, as a first link in the chain,
the process of deduction begins. It is the suggestive in-
tellect which is the basis of the action of the comparing
and deductive intellect. Of those elementary or trans-
cendental propositions, which are generally acknowledg-
GRIGINAL SUGGESTION.
255
ed to be prerequisites and conditions of the exercise of
the deductive faculty, there are four particularly wor-
thy of notice.-(1.) There is no beginning or change of
existence without a cause.-(2.) Matter and mind have
uniform and permanent laws.-(3.) Every quality sup-
poses a subject, a real existence, of which it is a quality.
(4.) Means, conspiring together to produce a certain
end, imply intelligence. The first of these propositions
is the basis of all those reasonings which are employed
to prove the existence of God from the light of nature,
besides having other important applications in regard to
anything and everything that is past. The second is es-
sential to the continuance of our existence and our activ-
ity, inasmuch as it lays the foundation of all foresight
into the future, and of the im ortant consequences de-
pendant upon such foresight. The third gives us a knowl-
edge of mind and matter, the mental and material world,
in distinction from their mere attributes and operations ;
assuring us of a substance or actuality of existence, as
well as of the manifestations or signs of existence. By
means of the fourth we are enabled to conduct the diffi-
cult and important process of separating the two great
domains of matter and mind, detecting indications of in-
telligence under material forms, and assigning both to
mind and matter their appropriate sphere and responsi-
bilities. These great truths are made known, not by de-
duction nor by direct experience, but by a spontaneous
and original intimation of the Suggestive intellect. As
they are not the creations of a process of reasoning, so
they are not destructible by such a process. They stand
imbedded in the mind's structure, and cannot be over-
thrown without a subversion of the essential elements of
our mental nature.—(For further remarks on two of these
Elementary propositions, see the Chapter on Primary
Truths.)
S
i
256
CONSCIOUSNESS.
CHAPTER III.
CONSCIOUSNESS.
§ 196. Consciousness the 2d source of internal knowledge; its nature.
THE second source of that knowledge which, in dis-
tinction from sensations and external perceptions, is de-
nominated Internal, is CONSCIOUSNESS. By the common
usage of the language, the term Consciousness is appro-
priated to express the way or method in which we ob-
tain the knowledge of those objects which belong to the
mind itself, and which do not, and cannot exist inde-
pendently of some mind. Imagining and reasoning are
terms expressive of real objects of thought, but evidently
the objects of which cannot be supposed to exist, inde-
pendently of some mind which imagines and reasons.
Hence every instance of consciousness may be regarded
as embracing in itself the three following distinct notions
at least, viz., (1.) The idea of self or of personal exist-
ence, which we possess not by direct consciousness, but
by suggestion, expressed in English by the words self,
MYSELF, and the personal pronoun I; (2.) some quality,
state, or operation of the mind, whatever it may be; and,
(3.) a relative perception of possession, appropriation, or
belonging to. For instance, a person says, I AM CONSCIOUS
OF LOVE, OR OF ANGER, OR OF PENITENCE. Here the idea
of SELF or of personal existence is expressed by the
pronoun I; there is a different mental state, and express-
ed by its appropriate term, that of the affection of ANGER,
&c.; the phrase CONSCIOUS OF, expresses the feeling of re-
lation, which instantaneously and necessarily recognises
the passion of anger as the attribute or property of the
subject of the proposition. And in this case, as in all
others where we apply the term under consideration, con-
sciousness does not properly extend to anything which
has an existence extraneous to the conscious subject or
soul itself.
It may be added further, that Consciousness seems to
CONSCIOUSNESS.
257
sustain the same relation to the various attributes of the
mind which Sensation, or perhaps, more properly, Per-
ception, does to those of matter. In both cases, viz., in
Consciousness and in External Perception, we may be said,
with a great degree of propriety, to have direct knowl-
edge; that is to say, knowledge without the intervention
of a series of intermediate facts. In the case of Percep-
tion, we have a new state of mind; and by means of it
(or perhaps we may say, as involved in it) we imme-
diately and necessarily have a knowledge of the corre-
sponding external object. And so in Consciousness,
whenever a new state of mind exists, we recognise its
existence at once, and as an attribute of our own minds.
We cannot help doing it.
§ 197. Further remarks on the proper objects of consciousness.
As there are some things to which Consciousness, as
the term is usually employed, relates, and others to which
it does not, it is proper to consider it in this respect more
fully.-(1.) As to those thoughts which may have aris-
en, or those emotions which may have agitated us in
times past, we cannot with propriety be said to be con-
scious of them at the present moment, although we may
be conscious of that present state of mind which we term
the recollection of them.-(2.) Again, Consciousness has
no direct connexion with such objects, whether material
or immaterial, as exist at the present time, but are exter-
nal to the mind, or, in other words, have an existence in-
dependent of it.
For instance, we are not, strictly speaking, conscious
of any material existence whatever; of the earth which
we tread, of the food which nourishes us, of the clothes
that protect, or of anything else of the like nature with
which we are conversant; but are conscious merely of the
effects they produce within us, of the sensations of taste,
of heat and cold, of resistance and extension, of hardness
and softness, and the like.
(3.) This view holds also in respect to immaterial
things, even the mind itself. We are not directly con-
scious, using the term in the manner which has been ex-
plained, of the existence even of our own mind, but
Y 2
258
CONSCIOUSNESS.
66
merely of its qualities and operations, and of that firm
belief or knowledge of its existence necessarily attendant
on those operations. According to the common doc-
trine," says Mr. Stewart (Philos. Essays, i., ch. i.), " of our
best philosophers, it is by the evidence of consciousness
we are assured that we ourselves exist. The proposition,
however, when thus stated, is not accurately true; for our
own existence is not a direct or immediate object of con-
sciousness, in the strict and logical meaning of that term.
We are conscious of sensation, thought, desire, volition,
but we are not conscious of the existence of mind itself;
nor would it be possible for us to arrive at the knowl-
edge of it (supposing us to be created in the full posses-
sion of all the intellectual capacities that belong to human
nature) if no impression were ever to be made on our
external senses. The moment that, in consequence of
such an impression, a sensation is excited, we learn two
facts at once; the existence of the sensation, and our
own existence as sentient beings: in other words, the
very first exercise of my consciousness necessarily im-
plies a belief, not only of the present existence of what
is felt, but of the present existence of that which feels
and thinks, or (to employ plainer language) the present
existence of that being which I denote by the words I
and myself. Of these facts, however, it is the former
alone of which we can properly be said to be conscious,
agreeably to the rigorous interpretation of the expression.
The latter is made known to us by a Suggestion of the
understanding consequent on the sensation, but so inti-
mately connected with it that it is not surprising that our
belief of both should be generally referred to the same
origin."
§ 198. Consciousness a ground or law of belief.
Consciousness, as was remarked in the introduction to
this work, is a ground or law of belief; and the belief
attendant on the exercise of it, like that which accompa-
nies the exercise of Original Suggestion, is of the highest
kind. It appears to be utterly out of our power to avoid
believing beyond a doubt that the mind experiences cer-
tain sensations, or has certain thoughts, or puts forth par-
CONSCIOUSNESS.
259
ticular intellectual operations, whenever, in point of fact,
that is the case. We may be asked for the reason of
this belief, but we have none to give, except that it is
the result of an ultimate and controlling principle of our
nature; and hence that nothing can ever prevent the
convictions resulting from this source, and nothing can
divest us of them.
Nor has the history of the human mind made known
any instances that have even the appearance of being at
variance with this view, except a few cases of undoubted
insanity. A man may reason against Consciousness as a
ground and law of belief, either for the sake of amusing
himself or of perplexing others; but when he not only
reasons against it as such, but seriously and sincerely re-
jects it, it becomes quite another concern; and such a
one has, by common consent, broken loose from the au-
thority of his nature, and is truly and emphatically be-
side himself. It will be impossible to find a resting-
place where such a mind can fix itself and repose; the
best established truths and the wildest and most extrava-
gant notions will stand nearly an equal chance of being
either rejected or received; fancy and fact will be con-
founded and mingled together, and the whole mind will
exhibit a scene of chaotic and irretrievable confusion.
§ 199. Instances of knowledge developed in consciousness.
It would be no easy task to point out the numerous
states of mind, the ideas, and emotions, and desires, and
volitions, which come within the range and cognizance
of Consciousness; nor is there any special reason, con-
nected with any object we have in view at present, why
such a full enumeration should be attempted. A few
instances will suffice to show how fruitful a source of ex-
perience and of knowledge this is.
(I.) All the various degrees of belief are matters of
Consciousness. We are so constituted that the mind
necessarily yields its assent, in a greater or less degree,
when evidence is presented. These degrees of assent
are exceedingly various and multiplied, although only a
few of them are expressed by select and appropriate
names; nor does it appear to be necessary for the ends
260
CONSCIOUSNESS.
;
of society, or for any other purpose, that it should be
otherwise. Some of them are as follows: doubting, as-
senting, presumption, believing, disbelieving, probability,
certainty, &c.
(II.) The names of all other intellectual acts and oper-
ations (not the names of the intellectual Powers, which,
like the mind itself, are made known to us by Sugges-
tion, and are expressed by a different class of terms, but
simply of acts and operations) are expressive of the sub-
jects of our Consciousness. Among others, the terms
perceiving, thinking, attending, conceiving, remembering,
comparing, judging, abstracting, reasoning, imagining.
(III.) Consciousness, considered as a source of knowl-
edge, includes likewise all our emotions and desires
(everything, in fact, which really and directly comes
within the range of the SENSITIVE or SENTIENT part of our
nature), as the emotions of the beautiful, the grand, the
sublime, the ludicrous; the feelings of pleasure, and pain,
and aversion; of hope and joy, of despondency and sad-
ness, and a multitude of others.
(IV.) Here also originates our acquaintance with the
complex emotions or passions. A man bestows a bene-
fit upon us, and we are conscious of a new complex feel-
ing, which we call GRATITUDE. Another person does us
an injury, and we are conscious of another and distinct
feeling, which we call ANGER. In other words, we feel,
we know that the passion exists, and that it belongs to
ourselves; and it is the same of jealousy, hatred, re-
venge, friendship, sympathy, the filial and parental af-
fections, love, &c.
(V.) All the moral and religious emotions and affec-
tions, regarded as subjects of internal knowledge, belong
here; such as approval, disapproval, remorse, humility,
repentance, religious faith, forgiveness, benevolence, the
sense of dependance, adoration.-When we consider that
the mind is constantly in action; that, in all our inter-
course with our fellow-beings, friends, family, country-
men, and enemies, new and exceedingly diversified feel-
ings are called forth; that every new scene in nature
and every new combination of events have their appro-
priate results in the mind, it will be readily conjectured
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
261
that this enumeration might be carried to a much greater
extent. What has been said will serve to indicate some
of the prominent sources for self-inquiry on this subject.
CHAPTER IV.
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
200. Of the susceptibility of perceiving or feeling relations.
It is not inconsistent with the usage of our language to
say that the mind brings its thoughts together, and places
them side by side, and compares them. Such are nearly
the expressions of Mr. Locke, who speaks of the mind's
bringing one thing to and setting it by another, and car-
rying its view from one to the other. And such is the
imperfect nature of all arbitrary signs, that this phrase-
ology will probably continue to be employed, although
without some attention it will be likely to lead into error.
Such expressions are evidently of material origin, and
cannot be rightly interpreted, in their application to the
mind, without taking that circumstance into consideration.
When it is said that our thoughts are brought together,
that they are placed side by side, and the like, probably
nothing more can be meant than this, that they are im-
mediately successive to each other. And when it is fur-
ther said that we compare them, the meaning is, that we
perceive or feel their relation to each other in certain re-
spects.
The mind, therefore, has an original susceptibility or
power corresponding to this result; in other words, by
which this result is brought about; which is sometimes
known as its power of RELATIVE SUGGESTION, and at other
times the same thing is expressed by the term JUDGMENT,
although the latter term is sometimes employed with
other shades of meaning." With the susceptibility of
Relative Suggestion," says Dr. Brown, lect. 51, "the fac-
ulty of judgment, as that term is commonly employed,
may be considered as nearly synonymous; and I have
262
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
accordingly used it as synonymous in treating of the dif
ferent relations that have come under our review." De-
gerando, in his treatise on the Origin of Human Knowl-
edge, pt. ii., chap. ii., has a remark nearly to the same
effect. "Le judgment nous fournit de nombreux se-
cours; combien d'idées de relation n'avons nous pas ? Le
judgment seul peut, en comparant les objets, nour en faire
decouvrir les rapports."
We arrive here, therefore, at an ultimate fact in our
mental nature; in other words, we reach a principle so
thoroughly elementary that it cannot be resolved into any
other. The human intellect is so made, so constituted,
that, when it perceives different objects together, or has
immediately successive conceptions of any absent objects
of perception, their mutual relations are immediately felt
by it. It considers them as equal or unequal, like or un-
like, as being the same or different in respect to place
and time, as having the same or different causes and ends,
and in various other respects.
§ 201. Occasions on which feelings of relation may arise.
The occasions on which feelings of relation may arise
are almost innumerable. It would certainly be no easy
task to specify them all. Any of the ideas which the
mind is able to frame, may either directly or indirectly
lay the foundation of other ideas of relation, since they
may in general be compared together; or, if they cannot
themselves be readily placed side by side, may be made
the means of bringing others into comparison. But those
ideas which are of an external origin are representative
of objects and their qualities; and hence we may speak
of the relations of things no less than of the relations of
thought. And such relations are everywhere discover-
able.
We behold the flowers of the field, and one is fairer
than another ; we hear many voices, and one is louder or
softer than another; we taste the fruits of the earth, and
one flavour is more pleasant than another. But these dif-
ferences of sound, and brightness, and taste could never
be known to us without the power of perceiving relations.
-Again, we see a fellow-being, and, as we make him the
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
263
subject of our thoughts, we at first think of him only as a
man. But then he may at the same time be a father, a
brother, a son, a citizen, a legislator; these terms express
ideas of relation.
§ 202. Of the use of correlative terms.
Correlative terms are such terms as are used to express
corresponding ideas of relation. They suggest the rela-
tions with great readiness, and by means of them the mind
can be more steadily, and longer, and with less pain, fixed
upon the ideas of which they are expressive. The words
father and son, legislator and constituent, brother and sis-
ter, husband and wife, and others of this class, as soon
as they are named, at once carry our thoughts beyond the
persons who are the subjects of these relations to the re-
lations themselves. Wherever, therefore, there are cor-
relative terms, the relations may be expected to be clear
to the mind.
The word CITIZEN is a relative term; but there being
no correlative word expressing a precisely corresponding
relation, we find it more difficult to form a ready concep-
tion of the thing signified than of SUBJECT, which has the
correlatives ruler and governor.-It is hardly necessary
to remind any one that the relation is something differ-
ent from the things related. The relations are often
changing, while the subjects of them remain the same.
A person may sustain the relation and the name of a fa-
ther to-day, but the inroads of death may on the morrow
deprive him of his offspring, and thus terminate that char-
acter which the relative term father expresses.
§ 203. Of the great number of our ideas of relation.
Mr. Locke has somewhere made a remark to this ef-
fect, that it would make a volume to describe all sorts of
relations, and with good reason; since they are as nu̟-
merous as that almost endless variety of respects in
which all our ideas, and all other subjects of knowledge,
may be compared together. With the single idea of
man, how many others are connected in consequence of
the various relations which he sustains.-He may, at one
and the same time, be a father, brother, son, brother-in-
264
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
law, son-in-law, husband, friend, enemy, subject, general,
judge, patron, townsman, servant, master, possessor, su-
perior, inferior, greater, smaller, older, younger, wiser,
contemporary, like, unlike, together with sustaining a
variety of other relations too numerous to be mentioned.
Such is the number of relations, that it is found difficult
to reduce them to classes; and probably no classification
of them which has been hitherto proposed, exhausts them.
in their full extent. The most of those which it will be
necessary to notice may be brought into the seven classes
of relations of IDENTITY and DivertsIy, of DEGREE, of PRO-
PORTION, Of PLACE, of TIME, of POSSESSION, and of CAUSE and
EFFECT.
§ 204. Of relations of identity and diversity.
The first class of ideas of relation which we shall pro-
ceed to consider, are those of IDENTITY and DIVERSITY.
Such is the nature of our minds, that no two objects can
be placed before us essentially unlike, without our hav-
ing a perception of this difference. When, on the other
hand, there is an actual sameness in objects contemplated
by us, the mind perceives or is sensible of their identity.
It is not meant by this that we are never liable to mis-
take; that the mind never confounds what is different,
nor separates what is the same; our object here is mere-
ly to state the general fact.
Two pieces of paper, for instance, are placed before
us, the one white and the other red; and we at once
perceive, without the delay of resorting to other objects
and bringing them into comparison, that the colours are
not the same. We immediately and necessarily perceive
a difference between a square and a circle, between a
triangle and a parallelogram, between the river and the
rude cliff that overhangs it, the flower and the turf from
which it springs, the house and the neighbouring hill,
the horse and his rider.
Whatever may be the appearance of this elementary
perception at first sight, it is undoubtedly one of great
practical importance. It has its place in all forms of
reasoning, as the train of argument proceeds from step to
step; and in Demonstrative reasoning in particular, it is
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
265
evident that, without it, we should be unable to combine
together the plainest propositions.
$ 205. Of axioms in connexion with relations of identity and diversity.
The remark at the close of the last section will be bet-
ter understood on a little further explanation. The state-
ment was, that without the relative perceptions or sug-
gestions of IDENTITY and DIVERSITY (otherwise denomina-
ted perceptions of AGREEMENT and DISAGREEMENT) we
should be incapable of demonstrative reasoning. Such
reasoning, as is well known, is carried on by the help of
axioms. And, accordingly, we generally find a number
of axioms placed at the head of geometrical treatises,
and of other treatises involving geometrical principles,
such as the following: Things equal to the same are
equal to one another; If equals be added to equals, the
wholes are equal; The whole is greater than a part;
Things which are double of the same are equal to one an-
other; Things which are halves of the same are equal to
one another; Magnitudes which coincide with one anoth-
er (that is, which exactly fill the same space) are equal
to one another, &c.
It will be admitted (and we shall see it perhaps more
clearly when we again have occasion to revert to this
subject) that demonstrative reasoning implies a constant
reference to such axioms; that its advancement through
the successive series of propositions is by means of their
aid. But it is too evident to require remark, that these
axioms are nothing more than particular instances of the
relative suggestion of identity and diversity, expressed in
words. It is the perceptions of agreement and disagree-
ment, actually arising in the mind, and not the mere ver-
bal expression of them, which form the true cement and
bond of the successive links, and impart consistency and
strength to the whole chain.
§ 206. (II.) Relations of degree, and names expressive of them.
Another class of those intellectual perceptions, which
are to be ascribed to the Judgment, or what we term
more explicitly the power of RELATIVE SUGGESTION, may
properly enough be named perceptions of relations of
VOL. I.-Z
266
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
"
Degree. Such perceptions of relation are found to exist
in respect to all such objects as are capable of being con-
sidered as composed of parts, and as susceptible, in some
respects, of different degrees.-We look, for instance, at
two men; they are both tall; but we at once perceive
and assert that one is taller than the other. We taste
two apples; they are both sweet; but we say that one
is sweeter than another. That is to say, we discover, in
addition to the mere perception of the man and the apple,
a relation, a difference in the objects in certain respects.
There are terms in all languages employed in the ex-
pression of such relations. In English, a reference to the
particular relation is often combined in the same term
which expresses the quality. All the words of the com-
parative and superlative degrees, formed by merely alter-
ing the termination of the positive, are of this descrip-
tion, as whiter, sweeter, wiser, larger, smaller, nobler,
kinder, truest, falsest, holiest, and a multitude of others.
In other cases (and probably the greater number), the
epithet expressive of the quality is combined with the
adverbs more and most, less and least. But certainly we
should not use such terms if we were not possessed of the
power of relative suggestion. We should ever be un-
able to say of one apple that it is sweeter than another,
or of one man that he is taller than another, without con-
sidering them in certain definite respects, and without
perceiving certain relations. So that, if we had no
knowledge of any other than relations of Degree, we
should abundantly see the importance of the mental sus-
ceptibility under review, considered as a source of words,
and of grammatical forms in language.
§ 207. Relations of degree in adjectives of the positive form.
Although relations of degree are discoverable more
frequently in comparative and superlative adjectives than
anywhere else, they may sometimes be detected also in
abstract terms which have the appearance of being en-
tirely positive, and not unfrequently in adjectives of the
positive form.-Let it be considered, as one instance
among many others, what we mean when we say of a
person, He is an AGER man. Although the epithet has
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
267
the positive form, we always tacitly compare the age of
the subject of it with that of others, of people in general,
and place the particular number of years to which he
may have attained by the side of that period which we
are in the habit of regarding as the ordinary term of
man's pilgrimage. It is the same when we say of any
person that he is YOUNG. He is then, by a tacit mental
reference, considered as falling far short of an assumed
period, an approximation to which gives to another per-
son the reputation of age.
Buffier, whose remarks are generally entitled to great
weight, happily illustrates this subject as follows.* “ If
we should, for example, never have seen or heard of any
hill or mountain of greater height than a quarter of a
mile, as might happen to some of the inhabitants of the
Low Countries, a mountain a mile high would appear
a considerable one to such people; but this mountain
would be looked upon as inconsiderable and trifling to the
people of the Alps, who are accustomed to see mountains
of much greater height. This example is so striking,
that there is no necessity for any other to make us sensi-
ble of the nature of relations that are founded on an ar-
bitrary idea, formed either by accident and occasion or
by our own fancy; as, if I should take it into my head,
without any foundation, that pearls are generally an inch
in diameter, I must, in that case, look upon all the pearls
we have in France as very small.
"What has been here said of greatness is manifestly
applicable to all the other qualities of long, broad, happy,
unhappy, convenient, inconvenient, easy, difficult, rich,
poor, good, bad, excellent, and many others of a similar
nature, that have no determinate sense, but by a relation
founded on an arbitrary and accidental idea formed with-
in our own minds. A man thought himself miserable in
having a slight headache: being afterward seized with
a giddiness and violent swimming in the head, the first
reflection that occurred to him was, how happy he was
when he had only his first headache. We here see that
the arbitrary idea on which the comparison and relation
* First Truths of Pere Buffier, part ii., chap. xxviii.

268
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
are founded changes the signification, and, in a manner,
the nature of the qualities of happy and miserable.”
§ 208. (III.) Of relations of proportion.
Among other relations which are discovered to us by
the power of judgment or relative suggestion, are those
of PROPORTION; a class of relations which are peculiar in
this, that they are felt only on the presence of three or
more objects of thought. They are discoverable particu-
larly in the comparison of numbers, as no one proceeds
far in numerical combinations without a knowledge of
them. On examining the numbers two, three, four, twen-
ty, twenty-seven, thirty-two, nine, five, eight, and sixteen,
we feel certain relations existing among them; they as-
sume a new aspect, a new power in the mental view.
We perceive (and we can assert, in reference to that per-
ception) that three is to nine as nine to twenty-seven;
that two is to eight as eight to thirty-two; that four is to
five as sixteen to twenty, &c.
And when we have once felt or perceived such rela-
tion actually existing between any one number and oth-
ers, we ever afterward regard it as a property inseparable
from that number, although the property had remained
unknown to us until we had compared it with others.
We attach to numbers, under such circumstances, a new
attribute, a new power; the same as we do, under simi-
lar circumstances, to all the other subjects of our knowl-
edge. There are many properties, for instance, of exter-
nal bodies which were not known to us at first, but, as
soon as they are discovered, they are, of course, embraced
in the general notion which we form of such bodies, and
are considered as making a part of it. And pursuing the
same course in respect to numbers, if, on comparing them
with each other, we perceive certain relations never dis-
covered before, the circumstance of their sustaining those
relations ever afterward enters into our conception of them.
§ 209. (IV.) Of relations of place or position.
Other feelings or perceptions of relation arise when we
contemplate the place or position of objects. Our minds
are so constituted, that such perceptions are the necessary
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
269
results of our contemplations of the outward objects by
which we are surrounded. Perhaps we are asked, What
we mean by position or place? Without professing to
give a confident answer, since it is undoubtedly difficult,
by any mere form of words, fully to explain it, we have
good grounds for saying that we cannot conceive of any
body as having place without comparing it with some
other bodies. If, therefore, having two bodies fixed, or
which maintain the same relative position, we can com-
pare a third body with them, the third body can then be
said to have place or position.
This may be illustrated by the chessmen placed on the
chessboard. We say the men are in the same place, al-
though the board may have been removed from one room
to another. We use this language, because we consider
the men only in relation to each other and the parts of
the board, and not in relation to the room or parts of the
room.-Again, a portrait is suspended in the cabin of a
ship; the captain points to it, and says to a by-stander
that it has been precisely in the same place this seven
years. Whereas, in point of fact, it has passed from
Europe to Africa, from Africa to America, and perhaps
round the whole world. Still the speaker uttered no
falsehood, because he spoke of the portrait (and was so
understood to speak of it) in relation to the ship, and
particularly the cabin; and not in relation to the parts of
the world which the ship had visited.-Such instances
show that place is relative.
Hence we may clearly have an idea of the place or
position of all the different parts of the universe, consid-
ered separately, because they may be compared with
other parts, although we are unable to form any idea of
the place or position of the universe considered as a
whole, because we have then no other body with which
we can compare it. If it were possible for us to know
all worlds and things at once, to comprehend the uni-
verse with a glance, we could not assert, with all our
knowledge of it, that it is here, or there, or yonder, or
tell where it would be.
But if place express a relative notion, then it follows
that all words which involve or imply the place or posi-
Z 2
270
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
Such are
tion of an object are of a similar character.
the words high and low, superior and inferior (when
used in respect to the position of objects), near and dis-
tant, above and beneath, further, nearer, hither, yonder,
here, there, where, beyond, within, around, without, and
the like.
§ 210. (V.) Of relations of time.
Another source of relative perceptions or judgments is
TIME. Time holds nearly the same relation to duration
as position does to space. The position or place of ob-
jects is but space marked out and limited; time, in like
manner, is duration set off into distinct periods; and as
our notions of the place of bodies are relative, so also
are our conceptions of events considered as happening in
time. It is true that the notions of duration and space
are in themselves original and absolute; they are made
known to us by Original rather than by Relative Sug-
gestion; but when they are in any way limited, and
events are thereby contemplated in reference to them un-
der the new forms of place and time, certain new con-
ceptions arise which are relative.
All time is contemplated under the aspect of past,
We are able, chiefly in consequence
present, or future.
of the revolution of the heavenly bodies, to form a dis-
tinct notion of portions of time, a day, a month, a year,
&c.; we can contemplate events, not only as existing at
present, but as future or past. But always when we
think or speak of events in time (in other words, when
we speak of the date of events), there is a comparison
and a perception of relation.
What, therefore, is the import of our language, when
we say the independence of the North American colonies
was declared July 4th, 1776 ?—The meaning of these
We assume the
expressions may be thus illustrated.
present year, 1836, as a given period, and reckon back to
the year one, which coincides with the birth of our Sa-
viour ; then the year 1776 expresses the distance be-
tween these two extremes, viz., one, and eighteen hun-
dred, thirty-six. This seems to be all we learn when we
say the Independence of the United States was declared
at the period above mentioned.-Again, we obviously
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
271
mean the same thing, and convey the same idea, whether
we say that the Saviour was born in the year ONE of the
Christian era, or in the year 4004 from the creation of
the world. But, in the last case, the year 4004 expresses
the distance between these two extremes, viz., the be-
ginning of the world and the present time; while, in the
first instance, the event itself forms the beginning of the
series. So that all dates appear to be properly classed
under the head of ideas of relation; and also all names
whatever, which are in any way expressive of the time
of events, as a second, a minute, day, week, hour, month,
year, cycle, yesterday, to-morrow, to-day, &c.
§ 211. (VI.) Of relations of possession.
Another class of relations may be called relations of
POSSESSION.-Every one knows that not unfrequently, in
his examination of objects, there arises a new feeling,
which is distinct from, and independent of the mere con-
ceptions of the objects themselves; and which, as it dif-
fers from other feelings of relation, may be termed the
relation of possession, or belonging to. This is one of
the earliest feelings which human beings exercise. When
we see the small child grasping its top and rattle with
joy, and disputing the claims of another to a share in
them, we may know that he has formed the notion of
possession. It is not only formed in early life, but expe-
rience fully shows that it loses neither activity nor
strength by the lapse of years.
The application of the Judgment, or that power by
which we perceive the relation of things, is frequent in
this particular form; and we find here a fruitful source
of words. The whole class of possessive pronouns,
which are to be found in all languages, have their origin
here; such as MINE, THINE, YOUR, HIS, HER, &c. The re-
lation of possession is imbodied also in the Genitive case
of the Greeks, Latins, Germans, and whatever other lan-
guages express relations in the same way; in the con-
struct state of nouns in the Hebrew and the other cognate
dialects; and in the preposition OF, which is the substi-
tute for the genitive termination in English, and the arti-
cles DE, DI, DEʼL, and DE LA in French.
272
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
The verbs TO BE in English, ESSE in Latin, ETRE in
French (and the same may undoubtedly be said of the
corresponding verb of existence in all languages), are
often employed to express the relation of possession or
belonging to. To say that the rose is red or the orange
yellow, is as much as to say that the qualities of yellow-
ness and redness are the possession of, or belong to the
rose and orange. But it will be observed, that the rela-
tion is not indicated by the name of the subject, nor by
the epithet expressive of its quality, but by the verb
which connects the subject and predicate. And similar
remarks will apply to some other verbs..
This class of relations is involved in many complex
terms, which imply definite qualities and affections of
mind, as friend, enemy, lover, hater, adorer, worshipper.
These terms not only indicate certain individuals, to
whom they are applied, but assert the existence of cer-
tain mental affections as their characteristics, and as be-
longing to them.
§ 212. (VII.) Of relations of cause and effect.
There are relations also of Cause and Effect. We
will not delay here to explain the origin of the notions
of cause and effect any further than to say, that the no-
tion of cause, as it first exists in the mind, includes no-
thing more than invariable antecedence. When the an-
tecedence to the event, or the sequence of any kind, is
our own volition (and probably in a single other case,
see § 190), we have the new idea of POWER. The idea
of invariable antecedence, therefore, which of course
supposes some sequence when it is combined with that
of Power, constitutes the full notion of Cause. When
the sequence is found invariably to follow, and its exist-
ence cannot be ascribed to anything else, it is called the
EFFECT. Accordingly, men usually give the name of
events, of occurrences, or facts, to those things which from
time to time fall under their notice, when they are con-
sidered in themselves. They are the mere facts, the mere
events, and nothing more. But when, in the course of
their further experience, such events are found to have
certain invariable forerunners, they cease to apply these
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
273
terms, and call them, in reference to their antecedents,
EFFECTS. And, in like manner, the antecedents are called
CAUSES, not in themselves considered, but in reference to
what invariably comes after.
Cause and effect, therefore, have certainly a relation to
each other; it is thus that they exist in the view of the
mind and in the nature of things, however true it may
may be
that men are unable to trace any physical connexion be-
tween them. We cannot conceive of a cause, if we ex-
clude from the list of our ideas the correlative notion of
effect, nor, on the other hand, do we call anything an ef
fect without a reference to some antecedent. These two
notions, therefore, involve or imply the existence of each
other; that is, are relative:
§ 213. Of complex terms involving the relation of cause and effect.
The suggestion of the relation of Cause and Effect ex-
ists on occasions almost innumerable; and in all lan-
guages gives a character to a multitude of words. This
relation is imbodied, for instance, in a multitude of names
which are expressive of complex objects, such as printer,
farmer, sculptor, warrior, writer, poet, manufacturer,
painter.
This may be thus illustrated: When we look at any
interesting piece of statuary, the sight of it naturally sug-
gests its author. But when our mind is thus directed
from the statue to the sculptor, it is evident we do not
think of him as we do of a thousand others, but we com-
bine with the conception of the individual a reference to
what he has done. We unite with the mere complex no-
tion of man that of a cause, and this combination evi-
dently alters its character, making it relative instead of
absolute.--In like manner, when we look at a fine por-
trait or historical painting, we are naturally reminded of
the artist, whose ingenuity has been displayed in its pro-
portions and colouring. But the word painter, which we
apply to him, expresses not merely the man, but compri-
ses the additional notion of the relation of cause which
he holds to the interesting picture before us.
§ 214. Remarks on instituted or conventional relations.
Perhaps we may be thought not to have completed this
274
RELATIVE SUGGESTION OR JUDGMENT.
subject without remarking that there are certain complex
terms, expressive of what Mr. Locke calls INSTITUTED or
CONVENTIONAL relations. As the epithets indicate which
are applied to them, they are not permanent, but are de-
pendant on the will, agreement, or appointment of men ;
such as citizen or burgher, governor, judge, senator, gen-
eral, legislator, &c. Accordingly, a CITIZEN is one who
has a right to the privileges of civil society in a certain
place; that is to say, is the subject of some government,
to the principles of whose organization and authority he
is supposed to have consented, in the expectation of re-
ceiving its protection. A GENERAL is one who has the
power to command an army, with the various powers in-
cidental to it; the right being delegated to him by the
choice and consent of the government of the country.
But it is obviously unnecessary to stop for the purpose
of considering the innumerable and constantly changing
relations of this kind. They assume the most multiplied
shapes; not taking their character from any one fixed
and definite principle of the mind, but embracing a com-
plication of qualities both absolute and relative.-There
are other complex names, involving various relations
which chiefly differ from the conventional relations, in
being natural and more permanent, such as father, son,
brother, sister, nephew, &c.

§ 215. Connexion of relative suggestion or judgment with reasoning.
It may be profitable to notice here the connexion
which relative suggestion has with reasoning in general.
The suggestions of relation (or elementary judgments, as
they may, perhaps, properly be called) are, in some re-
spects, to a train of reasoning, what parts are to the whole.
But they evidently do not of themselves include all the
parts in a train of reasoning, and are distinguished by this
peculiarity, that their office in a great measure is to con-
nect together other subordinate parts in the train. In the
combination of numbers, and in the various applications
of demonstrative reasoning, the relations of PROPORTION
and the relations of IDENTITY and DIVERSITY (otherwise
called of AGREEMENT and DISAGREEMENT) find a conspicu-
ous place. Moral reasoning embraces all kinds of rela-
ASSOCIATION. (I.) PRIMARY LAWS.
275
·
tions, those of degree, time, place, possession, and cause
and effect, as well as of agreement and disagreement, and
of proportion. Relative feelings, sometimes of one kind
and sometimes of another, continually unfold themselves.
as the mind advances in argument. So that, although
there are elements in reasoning besides perceptions of re-
lation, it is evident that it cannot advance independently
of their aid. Facts may be accumulated having close
and decisive relations to the points to be proved, but
those facts can never be so bound together as to result
in any decisive conclusion without a perception and
knowledge of the relations.
CHAPTER V:
(1.) PRIMARY LAWS.
§ 216. Reasons for considering this subject here.
In giving an account of the internal origin of knowl-
edge, we might be expected to proceed directly from Rel-
ative Suggestion to a consideration of the Reasoning pow-
er, which is one of the most effective and fruitful sources
of intellectual perception. By means of this power we are
enabled to combine and compare the ample materials fur-
nished by ORIGINAL SUGGESTION, CONSCIOUSNESS, and RELA-
TIVE SUGGESTION, and thus to develope in the mind new
elements of thought, and to cast light on the darkened
places in the field of truth. But there are powers of the
mind, subordinate to the reasoning power and essential
to its action, which may with propriety be first consid-
ered, particularly Association and Memory. Other per-
sons, perhaps, in examining the various parts of the
mind, would propose for the consideration of these powers
some other place; but we see no valid objection to con-
sidering them here. On the contrary, they have compar-
atively so little to do with what has gone before, and so
much to do with what comes after, and, in particular are
so essential to every process of ratiocination, that this
-ASSOCIATION.
—
276
ASSOCIATION.
seems to be their appropriate position. As Association
is presupposed and involved in memory as well as in
reasoning, we naturally begin with that principle first.
§ 217. Meaning of association and illustrations.
Our thoughts and feelings follow each other in a reg-
ular train. Of this statement no one needs any other
proof than his individual experience. We all know, not
only that our minds are susceptible of new states, but,
what is more, that this capability of new states is not for-
tuitous, but has its laws. Therefore we not only say
that our thoughts and feelings succeed each other, but
that this antecedence and sequence is in a regular train.
To this regular and established consecution of the states
of the mind, we give the name of MENTAL ASSOCIATION.
Illustrations of this important principle, which exerts
an influence over the emotions and desires as well as
over the thoughts, are without number. Mr. Hobbes re-
lates, in his political treatise of the Leviathan, that he
was once in company where the conversation turned on
the English Civil War. A person abruptly asked, in the
course of the conversation, What was the value of a Ro-
man denarius? Such a question, so remote from the gen-
eral direction of the conversation, had the appearance
not only of great abruptness, but of impertinence. Mr.
Hobbes says that, on a little reflection, he was able to
trace the train of thought which suggested the question.
The original subject of discourse naturally introduced
the history of King Charles; the king naturally suggest-
ed the treachery of those who surrendered him up to his
enemies; the treachery of these persons readily intro-
duced to the mind the treachery of Judas Iscariot; the
conduct of Judas was associated with the thirty pieces
of silver; and as the Romans occupied Judea at the time
of the crucifixion of the Saviour, the pieces of silver were
associated with the Roman denarii.
"When I was travelling through the wilds of Amer-
ica," says the eloquent Chateaubriand, "I was not a lit-
tle surprised to hear that I had a countryman established
as a resident at some distance in the woods. I visited
him with eagerness, and found him employed in pointing
(1.) PRIMARY LAws.
277
some stakes at the door of his hut. He cast a look to-
wards me, which was cold enough, and continued his
work; but, the moment I addressed him in French, he
started at the recollection of his country, and the big tear
stood in his eye. These well-known accents suddenly
roused in the heart of the old man all the sensations of
his infancy."*
The Emperor Napoleon, whose present cares might be
supposed to have greatly weakened the chain of thought
and feeling that bound him to the past, is said to have
once expressed himself thus. "Last Sunday evening, in
the general silence of nature, I was walking in these
grounds [of Malmaison]. The sound of the church-bell
of Ruel fell upon my ear, and renewed all the impres-
sions of my youth. I was profoundly affected, such is the
power of early associations."+-Such illustrations, which
appeal to every one's consciousness in confirmation of
their truth, show what association is.
◊ 218. Of the general laws of association.
In regard to Association, all that we know is the fact
that our thoughts and feelings, under certain circumstan-
ces, appear together and keep each other company. We
do not undertake to explain why it is that association, in
the circumstances appropriate to its manifestation, has an
existence. We know the simple fact; and if it be an
ultimate principle in our mental constitution, as we have
no reason to doubt that it is, we can know nothing more.
Association, as thus understood, has its laws. By the
Laws of association, we mean no other than the general
designation of those circumstances under which the reg-
ular consecution of mental states which has been men-
tioned occurs. The following may be named as among
the Primary or more important of those laws, although
it is not necessary to take upon us to assert either that
the enumeration is complete, or that some better arrange-
ment of them might not be proposed, viz., RESEMBLANCE,
CONTRAST, CONTIGUITY in time and place, and CAUSE and
EFFECT.
* Chateaubriand's Recollections of Italy, England, and America.
† Scott's Life of Napoleon, vol. iii., chap. xxxiv.
VOL. I.—A A
278
ASSOCIATION.
§ 219. Resemblance the first general law of association.
New trains of ideas and new emotions are occasioned
by Resemblance; but when we say that they are occa-
sioned in this way, all that is meant is, that there is a
new state of mind immediately subsequent to the per-
ception of the resembling object. Of the efficient cause
of this new state of mind under these circumstances, we
can only say, the Creator of the soul has seen fit to ap-
point this connexion in its operations, without our being
able, or deeming it necessary, to give any further expla-
nation. A traveller, wandering in a foreign land, finds
himself, in the course of his sojournings, in the midst of
aspects of nature not unlike those where he has formerly
resided, and the fact of this resemblance becomes the
antecedent to new states of mind. There is distinctly
brought before him the scenery which he has left, his own
woods, his waters, and his home.-The enterprising Lan-
der, in giving an account of one of his excursions in Af-
rica, expresses himself thus. "The foliage exhibited
every variety and tint of green, from the sombre shade of
the melancholy yew to the lively verdure of the poplar
and young oak. For myself, I was delighted with the
agreeable ramble, and imagined that I could distinguish
among the notes of the songsters of the grove, the swell-
ing strains of the English skylark and thrush, and the
more gentle warbling of the finch and linnet. It was,
indeed, a brilliant morning, teeming with life and beauty;
and recalled to my memory a thousand affecting associa-
tions of sanguine boyhood, when I was thoughtless and
happy."
The result is the same in any other case, whenever
there is a resemblance between what we now experience
and what we have previously experienced. We have
been acquainted, for instance, at some former period with
a person whose features appeared to us to possess some
peculiarity, a breadth and openness of the forehead, an
uncommon expression of the eye, or some other striking
mark; to-day we meet a stranger in the crowd by which
we are surrounded, whose features are of a somewhat
similar cast, and the resemblance at once vividly sug-
gests the likeness of our old acquaintance.
(1.) PRIMARY LAWS.
279
Nor is the association which is based upon resem-
blance limited to objects of sight. Objects which are
addressed to the sense of hearing are recalled in the
same way.
"How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at intervals upon the ear.
With easy force it opens all the cells
Where memory slept. Wherever I have heard
A kindred melody, the scene recurs,
And with it all its pleasures and its pains."
§ 220. Resemblance in every particular not necessary.
It is not necessary that the RESEMBLANCE should be
complete in every particular, in order to its being a prin-
ciple or law of association. It so happens (to use an il-
lustration of Brown*) that we see a painted portrait of a
female countenance which is adorned with a ruff of a
peculiar breadth and display; and we are, in conse-
quence, immediately reminded of Queen Elizabeth. Not
because there is any resemblance between the features
before us and those of the English sovereign, but be-
cause, in all the painted representations which we have
seen of her, she is uniformly set off with this peculiarity
of dress, with a ruff like that which we now see. Here
the resemblance between the suggesting thing and that
which is suggested is not a complete resemblance, does
not exist in all the particulars in which they may be
compared together, but is limited to a part of the dress.
That a single resembling circumstance (and perhaps
one of no great importance) should so readily suggest
the complete conception of another object or scene,
which is made up of a great variety of parts, seems to
admit of some explanation in this way. We take, for
example, an individual; the idea which we form of the
individual is a complex one, made up of the forehead,
eyes, lips, hair, general figure, dress, &c. These sep-
arate subordinate ideas, when combined together and
viewed as a whole, have a near analogy to any of our
ideas, which are compounded, and are capable of being
resolved into elements more simple. When, therefore,
we witness a ruff of a size and decoration more than or-
* Brown's Philosophy of the Human Mind, Lect. xxxv.
280
ASSOCIATION.
dinary, we are at once reminded of that ornament in the
habiliments of the British queen; and this on the ground
of Resemblance. But this article in the decorations
of her person is the foundation of only one part of a
very complex state of mind, which embraces the features
and the general appearance. As there has been a long-
continued coexistence of those separate parts which
make up this complex state, the recurrence to the mind
of one part or of one idea is necessarily attended with
the recurrence of all the others.
◊ 221. Of resemblance in the effects produced.
Resemblance operates, as an associating principle, not
only when there is a likeness or similarity in the things
themselves, but also when there is a resemblance in the
effects which are produced upon the mind. The ocean,
for instance, when greatly agitated by the winds, and
threatening every moment to overwhelm us, produces in
the mind an emotion similar to that which is caused by
the presence of an angry man who is able to do us
harm. And, in consequence of this similarity in the ef-
fects produced, it is sometimes the case that they recip-
rocally bring each other to our recollection.
Dark woods hanging over the brow of a mountain
cause in us a feeling of awe and wonder, like that which
we feel when we behold approaching us some aged per-
son, whose form is venerable for his years, and whose
name is renowned for wisdom and justice. It is in ref-
erence to this view of the principle on which we are re-
marking, that the following comparison is introduced in
Akenside's Pleasures of the Imagination.
"Mark the sable woods,
That shade sublime yon mountain's nodding brow;
With what religious awe the solemn scene
Commands your steps!
your steps! As if the reverend form
Of Minos or of Numa should forsake
The Elysian seats, and down the embowering glade
Move to your pausing eye."
As we are so constituted that all nature produces in us
certain effects, causes certain emotions similar to those
which are caused in us in our intercourse with our fel-
(1.) PRIMARY LAWS.
281
low-beings, it so happens that, in virtue of this fact, the
natural world becomes living, animated, operative. The
ocean is in anger; the sky smiles; the cliff frowns ; the
aged woods are venerable; the earth and its productions
are no longer a dead mass, but have an existence, a
soul, an agency.-We see here the foundation of meta-
phorical language; and it is here that we are to look
for the principles by which we are to determine the pro-
priety or impropriety of its use.
§ 222. Contrast the second general or primary law.
CONTRAST is another law or principle by which our
successive mental states are suggested; or, in other
terms, when there are two objects, or events, or situa-
tions of a character precisely opposite, the idea or con-
ception of one is immediately followed by that of the
other. When the discourse is of the palace of the king,
how often are we reminded, in the same breath, of the
cottage of the peasant! And thus it is, that wealth and
poverty, the cradle and the grave, and hope and despair,
are found, in public speeches and in writings, so frequent-
ly going together and keeping each other company.
The truth is, they are connected together in our thoughts
by a distinct and operative principle; they accompany
each other, certainly not because there is any resem-
blance in the things thus associated, but in consequence
of their very marked contrariety. Darkness reminds of
light, heat of cold, friendship of enmity; the sight of the
conqueror is associated with the memory of the conquer-
ed, and, when beholding men of deformed and dwarf-
ish appearance, we are at once led to think of those of
erect figure or of Patagonian size. Contrast, then, is no
less a principle or law of association, than resemblance
itself.
Count Lemaistre's touching story, entitled, from the
scene of its incidents, THE LEPER OF AOST, illustrates the
effects of the principle of association now under consid-
eration. Like all persons infected with the leprosy, the
subject of the disease is represented as an object of dread
no less than of pity to others; and while he is an outcast
from the society of men, he is a loathsome spectacle
A A 2
282
ASSOCIATION.
even to himself. But what is the condition of his mind?
What are the subjects of his thoughts? The tendencies
of his intellectual nature prevent his thinking of wretch-
edness alone. His extreme misery aggravates itself by
suggesting scenes of ideal happiness, and his mind revels
in a paradise of delights, merely to give a greater inten-
sity to his actual woes by contrasting them with imagin-
ary bliss." I represent to myself continually," says the
Leper, "societies of sincere and virtuous friends; families
blessed with health, fortune, and harmony. I imagine I
see them walk in groves greener and fresher than these,
the shade of which makes my poor happiness; bright-
ened by a sun more brilliant than that which sheds its
beams on me: and their destiny seems to me as much
more worthy of envy in proportion as my own is the
more miserable.'
رو
Association by CONTRAST is the foundation of the rhe-
torical figure of Antithesis. In one of the tragedies of
Southern we find the following antithetic expressions :
"Could I forget
What I have been, I might the better bear
What I am destined to. I am not the first
That have been wretched: but to think how much
I have been happier."
Here the present is placed in opposition with the past,
and happiness is contrasted with misery; not by a cold
and strained artifice, as one might be led to suppose, but
by the natural impulses of the mind, which is led to as-
sociate together things that are the reverse of each other.
§ 223. Contiguity the third general or primary law.
Those thoughts and feelings which have been connect-
ed together by nearness of time and place, are readily
suggested by each other; and, consequently, contiguity
in those respects is rightly reckoned as another and third
primary law of our mental associations. When we think
of Palestine, for instance, we very readily and naturally
think of the Jewish nation, of the patriarchs, of the proph-
ets, of the Saviour, and of the apostles, because Palestine
was their place of residence and the theatre of their ac-
tions. So that this is evidently an instance where the
(1.) PRIMARY LAWs.
283
suggestions are chiefly regulated by proximity of place.
When a variety of acts and events have happened nearly
at the same period, whether in the same place or not, one
is not thought of without the other being closely associ-
ated with it, owing to proximity of time. If, therefore,
the particular event of the crucifixion of the Saviour be
mentioned, we are necessarily led to think of various
other events which occurred about the same period, such
as the treacherous conspiracy of Judas, the denial of Pe-
ter, the conduct of the Roman soldiery, the rending of the
veil of the temple, and the temporary obscuration of the
sun.
The mention of Egypt suggests the Nile, the Pyra-
mids, the monuments of the Thebais, the follies and mis-
fortunes of Cleopatra, the battle of Aboukir. The men-
tion of Greece is associated with Thermopyla and Sala-
mis, the Hill of Mars and the Vale of Tempe, Ilissus,
the steeps of Delphi, Lyceum, and the "olive shades of
Academus." These, it will be noticed, are associations
on the principle of contiguity in PLACE. But if a partic-
ular event of great interest is mentioned, other events and
renowned names, which attracted notice at the same pe-
riod, will eagerly cluster around it. The naming of the
AMERICAN REVOLUTION, for instance, immediately fills the
mind with recollections of Washington, Franklin, Morris,
Greene, Jay, and many of their associates, whose fortune
it was to enlist their exertions in the support of constitu-
tional rights, not merely in the same country (for that
circumstance alone might not have been sufficient to re-
call them), but at the same period of time.
It is generally supposed, and not without reason for it,
that the third primary law of mental association is more
extensive in its influence than any others. It has been
remarked, with truth, that proximity in time and place
forms the basis of the whole calendar of the great mass
of mankind. They pay but little attention to the arbi-
trary eras of chronology; but date events by each other,
and speak of what happened at the time of some dark
day, of some destructive overflow of waters, of some great
eclipse, of some period of drought and famine, of some
war or revolution.
284
ASSOCIATION.
§ 224. Cause and effect the fourth primary law.
There are certain facts or events which hold to each
other the relation of invariable antecedence and sequence.
That fact or event, to which some other one sustains the
relation of constant antecedence, is in general called an
effect and that fact or event, to which some other one
holds the relation of invariable sequence, has in general
the name of a cause. Now there may be no resemblance
in the things which reciprocally bear this relation, there
may be no contrariety, and it is by no means necessary
that there should be contiguity in time or place, as the
meaning of the term contiguity is commonly understood.
There may be CAUSE and EFFECT without any one or all
of these circumstances. But it is a fact, which is known
to every one's experience, that, when we think of the
cause in any particular instance, we naturally think of
the effect, and, on the contrary, the knowledge or recol-
lection of the effect brings to mind the cause.-And, in
view of this well-known and general experience, there is
good reason for reckoning CAUSE and EFFECT among the
primary principles of our mental associations. What we
here understand by principles or laws will be recollect-
ed, viz., The general designation of those circumstances
under which the regular consecution of mental states oc-
curs.
It is on the principle of Cause and Effect that, when
we see a surgical instrument, or any engine of torture, we
have a conception of the pain which they are fitted to
occasion. And, on the contrary, the sight of a wound,
inflicted however long before, suggests to us the idea of
the instrument by which it was made. Mr. Locke re-
lates an incident, which illustrates the statements made
here, of a man who was restored from a state of insanity
by means of a harsh and exceedingly painful operation.
"The gentleman who was thus recovered, with great
sense of gratitude and acknowledgment, owned the cure
all his life after as the greatest obligation he could have
received; but, whatever gratitude and reason suggested
to him, he could never bear the sight of the operator:
that image brought back with it the idea of that agony
which he suffered from his hands, which was too mighty
(11.) SECONDARY LAWS.
285
and intolerable for him to endure."-The operation of
the law of Cause and Effect, in the production of new
associations, seems to be involved in the following char-
acteristic passage of Shakspeare, Henry IV., 2d part,
act i.
"Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember'd knolling a departed friend."
CHAPTER VI.
ASSOCIATION. (II.) SECONDARY LAWS.
§ 225. Secondary laws and their connexion with the primary.
THE subject of Association is not exhausted in the
enumeration and explanation of its Laws which has thus
far been given. Besides the PRIMARY LAWS which have
fallen under our consideration, there are certain marked
and prominent circumstances, which are found to exert,
in a greater or less degree, a modifying and controlling
influence over the more general principles. As this in-
fluence is of a permanent character, and not merely ac-
cidental and temporary, the grounds or sources of it are
called, by way of distinction, SECONDARY LAWS.
These, which we are now to consider, will probably
appear at first sight to be more numerous than they are
in fact. It is undoubtedly somewhat difficult to make
out a just and unalterable designation of them. Never-
theless, it is believed that, on a careful examination, their
multiplicity will be lessened, and that they will be found
to be but four in number; viz., lapse of Time, degree of
coexistent Feeling, repetition or Habit, and original or
constitutional Difference in character.

It must at once be obvious, that these principles, al-
though holding a subordinate rank, give an increased
range and power to the PRIMARY laws. It is not to be in-
ferred, from the epithet by which they are distinguished,
that they are, therefore, of a very minor and inconsider
286
ASSOCIATION.
S
able importance. On the contrary, human nature with-
out them, as far as we are capable of judging, would
have assumed a sort of fixed and inflexible form, instead
of presenting those pleasing and almost endless diversi-
ties it now does.-The primary laws are the great na-
tional roads along which the mind holds its course; the
secondary are those cross-roads that intersect them from
time to time, and thus afford an entrance into, and a
communication with the surrounding country; and yet all
have a connexion with each other; and, with all their
turnings and intersections, concur at last in the ultimate
destination.
§ 226. Of the influence of lapse of time.
The first of the four secondary laws which we shall
consider is LAPSE OF TIME. Stated more particularly, the
law is this: Our trains of thought and emotion are more
or less strongly connected and likely to be restored, ac-
cording as the lapse of time has been greater or less.
Perhaps no lapse of time, however great, will utterly
break the chain of human thought, and cause an entire
inability of restoring our former experiences; but it ap-
pears evident from observation, as much so as observation
renders evident in almost any case, that every additional
moment of intervening time weakens, if it do not break
and sunder, the bond that connects the present with the
past, and diminishes the probability of such a restoration.
We remember many incidents, even of a trifling nature,
which occurred to-day or the present week, while those
of yesterday or of last week are forgotten. But if the
increased period of months and years throws itself be-
tween the present time and the date of our past experi-
ences, our ancient joys, regrets, and sufferings, then how
unfrequent is their recurrence, and how weak and shad-
owy they appear! Increase the lapse of time a little
further, and a dark cloud rests on that portion of our his-
tory; less substantial than a dream, it utterly eludes our
search, and becomes to us as if it never had been.
There is, however, an apparent exception to this law
which should be mentioned. The associated feelings of
old men, which were formed in their youth and the early
(11.) SECONDARY LAWS.
287
part of manhood, are more readily revived than those of
later origin. On this state of things in old men, two re-
marks are to be made. The FIRST is, that the law under
consideration fully and unfailingly maintains itself in the
case of aged persons, whenever the time is not extended
far back. Events which happened but a few hours be-
fore are remembered, while there is an utter forgetful-
ness of those which happened a few weeks or even days
before. So far as this, the law operates in old men pre-
cisely as in others. The SECOND remark is, that the fail-
ure of its operation in respect to the events of youth is
caused, not by an actual inability in the secondary law
before us to blot out and diminish here as in other cases,
but by the greater power of the combined action of the
two other laws, viz., Coexistent feeling, and Repetition
or habit. Our early life, as a general statement, was the
most deeply interesting, and is the most frequently recur-
red to; and in this way its recollections become so in-
corporated with the mind as to hold a sort of precedence
over our more recent experiences, and thrust them from
their proper place.
B
§ 227. Secondary law of repetition or habit.
Another secondary law is REPETITION; in other words,
successions of thought are the more readily suggested in
proportion as they are the more frequently renewed. If
we experience a feeling once, and only once, we find it
difficult to recall it after it has gone from us, but repeat-
ed experience increases the probability of its recurring.
Every schoolboy who is required to commit to memory,
puts this law to the test, and proves it. Having read a
sentence a number of times, he finds himself able to re-
peat it out of book, which he could not do with merely
reading it once.
The operation of this law is seen constantly in partic-
ular arts and professions. If men be especially trained
up to certain trades, arts, or sciences, their. associations
on those particular subjects, and on everything connected
with them, are found to be prompt and decisive. We
can but seldom detect any hesitancy or mistake within
the circle where their minds have been accustomed to
288
ASSOCIATION.
operate, because every thought and process have been
recalled and repeated thousands of times. With almost
everything they see or hear, there is a train of reflection,
connecting it with their peculiar calling, and bringing it
within the beaten and consecrated circle. Every hour,
unless they guard against it, hastens the process which
threatens to cut them off, and insulate them from the
great interests of humanity, and to make them wholly
professional.
"Still o'er those scenes their memory wakes,
And fondly broods with miser care;
Time but the impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear."
§ 228. Of the secondary law of coexistent emotion.
A third secondary law is COEXISTENT EMOTION.—It
may be stated in other words as follows: The probabili-
ty that our mental states will be recalled by the general
laws, will in part depend on the depth of feeling, the de-
gree of interest, which accompanied the original experi-
ence of them.
Why are bright objects more readily recalled than
faint or obscure? It is not merely because they occu-
pied more distinctly our perception, but because they
more engaged our attention and interested us, the natu-
ral consequence of that greater distinctness. Why do
those events in our personal history which were accom-
panied with great joys and sorrows, stand out like pyra-
mids in our past life, distinct to the eye and immoveable
in their position, while others have been swept away and
cannot be found? Merely because there were joy and
sorrow in the one case, and not at all, or only in a slight
degree, in the other; because the sensitive part of our
nature combined itself with the intellectual; the Heart
gave activity to the operations of the understanding.
We learn from the Bible that the Jews, in their state
of exile, could not forget Jerusalem, the beloved and
beautiful City. And why not? How did it happen
that in their Captivity they sat down by the rivers of
Babylon, wept when they remembered Zion, and hung
their harps on the willows? It was because Jerusalem
-
(II.) SECONDARY LAWS.
289
was not only an object of thought, but of feeling. They
had not only known her gates and fountains, her pleas-
ant dwelling-places and temples, but had loved them.
The Holy City was not a lifeless abstraction of the head,
but a sacred and delightful image engraven in the heart.
And hence it was that, in their solitude and sorrow, she
arose and shone before them so distinctly, "the morning
star of memory."
◊ 229. Original difference in the mental constitution.
The fourth and last secondary law of association is
ORIGINAL DIFFERENCE IN THE MENTAL CONSTITUTION. This
Law, it will be noticed, is expressed in the most general
terms; and is to be considered, therefore, as applicable
both to the Intellectual and the Sensitive part of man. It
requires accordingly to be contemplated in two distinct
points of view.
T
The law of original difference in the mental constitu-
tion is applicable, in the FIRST place, to the Intellect, prop-
erly and distinctively so called; in other words, to the
perceiving, comparing, judging, and reasoning part of the
soul. That there are differences in men intellectually, it
is presumed will hardly be doubted, although this differ-
ence is perceptible in different degrees, and in some cases
hardly perceptible at all. And these original or consti-
tutional peculiarities reach and affect the associating prin-
ciple, as well as other departments of intellectual action.
The associations of the great mass of mankind (perhaps it
may be entirely owing, in some cases, to the accidental cir-
cumstance of a want of education and intellectual devel-
opement) appear to run exclusively in the channel of Con-
tiguity in time and place. They contemplate objects in
their nearness and distance, in their familiar and outward
exhibitions, without examining closely into analogies and
differences, or considering them in the important relation
of cause and effect. But not unfrequently we find per-
sons whose minds are differently constructed, who exhibit
a higher order of perception. But even in these cases we
sometimes detect a striking difference in the application
of their intellectual powers. One person, for instance,
has from childhood exhibited a remarkable command of
VOL. I.-B B
290
ASSOCIATION.
the relations and combinations of numbers; another ex-
hibits in like manner an uncommon perception of uses,
adaptations, and powers, as they are brought together,
and set to work in the mechanic arts; another has the
power of generalizing in an uncommon degree, and,
having obtained possession of a principle in a particular
case, which may appear to others perfectly and irretriev-
ably insulated, he at once extends it to hundreds and
thousands of other cases. In no one of these instances
does the Associating power operate in precisely the same
way, but exhibits in each a new aspect or phasis of action.
It is, perhaps, unnecessary to delay here for the pur-
pose of confirming what has now been said, by a refer-
ence to the history of individuals. A slight acquaintance
with literary history will show that diversities of intellect,
such as have been alluded to, and founded, too, in a great
degree on peculiarities of the associating principle, have
been frequent. How often had the husbandman seen the
apple fall to the ground without even asking for the
cause? But when Newton saw the fall of an apple, he
not only asked for the cause, but, having conjectured it,
he at once perceived its applicability to everything in like
circumstances around him, to all the descending bodies
on the earth's surface. And this was not all. Immedi-
ately expanding the operations of the principle which he
had detected, from the surface of the earth to the stars of
heaven, he showed its universality, and proved that the
most distant planet is controlled by the same great law
which regulates the particles of dust beneath our feet.-
Here was a mind, not merely great by toil, but constitu-
tionally great and inventive; a mind which was regula-
ted in its action, not by the law of mere contiguity in
time and place, but by the more effective associating prin-
ciples of Analogy, and of Cause and Effect.
-
§ 230. The foregoing law as applicable to the sensibilities.
The law under consideration holds good, in the SECOND
place, in respect to original differences of emotion and
passion, or, as it is more commonly expressed, of disposi-
tion. It will help to make us understood if we allude
briefly, in this part of the subject, to two different classes
(II.) SECONDARY LAWS.
291
|
of persons. One of the descriptions of men which we
have now in view is composed of those, for such are un-
doubtedly to be found, who are of a pensive and melan-
choly turn. From their earliest life they have shown a
fondness for seclusion, in order that they might either
commune with the secrets of their own hearts, or hold in-
tercourse, undisturbed by others, with whatever of im-
pressiveness and sublimity is to be found in the works of
nature. The other class are naturally of a lively and
cheerful temperament. If they delight in nature, it is not
in solitude, but in the company of others. While they
seldom throw open their hearts for the admission of troub-
led thoughts, they oppose no obstacle to the entrance of
the sweet beams of peace, and joy, and hope.
Now it is beyond question that the primary laws of as-
sociation are influenced by the constitutional tendencies
manifest in these two classes of persons; that is to say,
in the minds of two individuals, the one of a cheerful, the
other of a melancholy or gloomy disposition, the trains of
thought will be very different. This difference is finely
illustrated in those beautiful poems of Milton, L'ALLEGRO
and IL PENSEROSO. L'ALLEGRO, or the cheerful man, finds
pleasure and cheerfulness in every object which he be-
holds the great sun puts on his amber light, the mower
whets his scythe, the milkmaid sings,
"And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale."
But the man of a melancholy disposition, IL PENSEROSO,
chooses the evening for his walk, as most suitable to the
temper of his mind; he listens from some lonely hillock
to the distant curfew, and loves to hear the song of that
"sweet bird,
That shun'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy."
Further Our trains of suggested thoughts will be mod-
ified by those temporary feelings which may be regarded
as exceptions to the more general character of our dispo-
sitions. The cheerful man is not always cheerful, nor is
the melancholy man at all times equally sober and con-
templative. They are known to exchange characters for
292
ASSOCIATION.
short periods, sometimes in consequence of good or ill
health, or of happy or adverse fortune, and sometimes for
causes which cannot be easily explained. So that our
mental states will be found to follow each other with a
succession, varying not only with the general character of
our temper and dispositions, but with the transitory emo-
tions of the day or hour.
All the laws of association may properly be given here
in a condensed view. The PRIMARY or general laws, are
RESEMBLANCE, CONTRAST, CONTIGUITY in time and place, and
CAUSE and EFFECT. Those circumstances which are found
particularly to modify and control the action of these are
termed SECONDARY laws, and are as follows: Lapse of
time, Repetition or habit, Coexistent feeling, and Con-
stitutional difference in mental character.
231. Of associations caused by present objects of perception.
There remains another point of view in which it seems
proper that the subject of association should be contem-
plated before we leave it.—Associated thoughts and emo-
tions, when made to pass through the mind by some sound
which the ear has caught, by some object which has met
the eye, or any present object of perception whatever, are
peculiarly vivid and strong. Associations which do not
admit any of our present perceptions as a part of the as-
sociated train, cannot but impress us as being in some
measure airy and unsubstantial, however distinct. We
deeply feel that they are part of the experiences of de-
parted days, and which, in departing from us, have be-
come almost as if they had never been. But let them
partake of our present experience, of what we now feel
and know to exist, and they seem to gain new strength;
the remembrances are not only distinct, but what was airy
and unsubstantial fades away, and they have life, and
power, and form.
How often, in the wanderings of life, are we led, by
some apparently accidental train of thought, to the recol-
lection of the residence of our early years and of the in-
cidents which then occurred! The associations are in-
teresting, but we find it difficult to make them permanent,
and they are comparatively faint. But let there be con-
(II.) SECONDARY LAWS.
293
nected with the train of thought the present sound of some
musical instrument which we then used to hear, and of
our favourite tune, and it will be found that the reality
of the tune blends itself with the airy conceptions of the
mind, and, while we kindle with an illusive rapture, the
whole seems to be real. Some illustrations may tend to
make these statements more clear, and to confirm them.
It is related in one of the published Lectures of Dr.
Rush, that an old native African was permitted by his
master, a number of years since, to go from home in order
to see a lion that was conducted as a show through the
State of New-Jersey. He no sooner saw him, than he
was so transported with joy as to express his emotions
by jumping, dancing, and loud acclamations, notwith-
standing the torpid habits of mind and body superinduced
by half a century of slavery. He had known that animal
when a boy in his native country, and the sight of him
suddenly revived the memory of his early enjoyments, his
native land, his home, his associates, and his freedom.
There is in the same writer another interesting in-
stance of the power of association, in which he himself
had a part, and which will be given in his own words.—
"During the time I passed at a country-school in Cecil
county, in Maryland, I often went on a holyday with my
schoolmates to see an eagle's nest, upon the summit of a
dead tree in the neighbourhood of the school, during the
time of the incubation of that bird. The daughter of
the farmer in whose field this tree stood, and with whom I
became acquainted, married, and settled in this city about
forty years ago. In our occasional interviews, we now
and then spoke of the innocent haunts and rural pleas-
ures of our youth, and, among other things, of the eagle's
nest in her father's field. A few years ago I was called
to visit this woman when she was in the lowest stage of a
typhus fever. Upon entering her room, I caught her eye,
and, with a cheerful tone of voice, said only, The eagle's
nest.' She seized my hand, without being able to speak,
and discovered strong emotions of pleasure in her coun-
tenance, probably from a sudden association of all her
early domestic connexions and enjoyment with the words
BB 2
294
ASSOCIATION.
I had uttered.*
* From that time she began to recover
She is now living, and seldom fails, when we meet, to sa-
lute me with the echo of the eagle's nest.'”
<
§ 232. Causes of increased vividness in these instances.
From such illustrations it would seem to be sufficiently
clear that, whenever associated thoughts and emotions
are connected with any present perceptions, they are pe-
culiarly strong and vivid. They steal into all the secret
chambers of the soul, and, seemingly by some magic
power, impart a deep intensity to its feelings, and give to
the fleeting world of memory the stability of real exist-
There are two causes why such associated feel-
ings should possess more than ordinary strength and viv-
idness.
ence.
GE
(1.) The particular train of thought and feeling which
is excited in the mind continues longer than in other
cases, in consequence of the greater permanency and fix-
edness of the present objects of perception, which either
suggested the train or make a part of it. So long as the
lion was permitted to remain in the sight of the aged Af-
rican, so long without interruption was the series of de-
lightful thoughts kept up within him. The bright ima-
ges which threw him into such raptures, and awoke stu-
pidity itself, were not fleeting away with every breath,
but remained permanent.-The sick lady of Philadelphia
saw the physician with whom she had been acquainted
in the early part of life. By the mention of the eagle's
nest he vividly recalled the scenes of those young days.
But it was the presence of the person whose observation
had given rise to the train of association which contrib-
uted chiefly to keep it so long in her thoughts. Had it
occurred merely from some accidental direction of her
own mind, without any present object which had made a
part of it, no doubt her sufferings or other circumstances
would soon have banished it.
(2.) The second cause of the increased vividness of
associations, suggested by a present object of perception
or combined with it, is this, viz.: The reality of the thing
perceived (we do not profess to assert precisely in what
* Rush's Introductory Lectures.
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS.
(I.) INTELLECTUAL.
295
manner it is done) is communicated, in the illusions of the
moment, to the thing suggested.-The trees of the desert
were the hiding-place of the lion when the African saw
him in early life; and now, after the lapse of so many
years, he imagines that, in the quickened eye of his mind,
he beholds the forests of his native soil, because he has
before him the proud and powerful animal that crouched
under their shade. And the presence of the monarch of
the forest gives a reality not only to woods and deserts,
but by a communication of that which exists to that
which is merely suggested, the whole group of his early
experiences, of whatever kind, so far as they are recalled,
virtually acquire a like truth and reality.
CHAPTER VII.
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS. (L.) INTELLECTUAL.
§ 233. Association sometimes misleads our judgments.
Ir seems to be important, in this portion of the history
of the mind, to illustrate still further the operations of the
great principle of Association. There are some cases
where the power of association so misleads us that we
cannot easily form a correct judgment of the true nature
of things. Every object of thought, in order to be fully
understood, ought to be so much in our power, that we
may examine it separately from all other objects. When-
ever, therefore, it happens, from any circumstances, that
the power of association so combines one object of
thought with another that the object cannot readily be
looked at and examined by itself, it so far has the effect
to perplex and hinder correct judgment.
It will be found, when we look into our minds, that
there exist a few associations or combinations of thought
of this kind which are obstinate and almost invincible.
To explain the origin, and to correct the erroneous ten-
dencies of all such connexions of thought, although the
number of such as we have now in view cannot be large,
296
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS.
would occupy us too long. The examination of a few
somewhat striking instances will not only throw light on
the philosophy of the mind in general, but will be of
some practical benefit.-Other instances of CASUAL ASSO-
CIATION, which have a more intimate connexion with the
Sensibilities than with the Intellect, will be more appro-
priately considered under that head.
§ 234. Casual association in respect to the place of sensation.
One of the casual associations of that extreme kind
which we have now especial reference to, concerns the
place, or, rather, the supposed place of sensation.—All
sensation, it will not be forgotten, is in the mind. What-
ever is inanimate or material can of course have no feel-
ing. Nevertheless, if a wound be inflicted on the hand
or foot, we seem to experience the sensation of pain in
that particular place. When we merely bring the hand
in contact with a warm or cold body, we even then as-
sign a local habitation to the subsequent feeling, and it
clearly seems to be not in the mind, but in the hand.
This reference of the sensation to the outward organ
and place, instead of thinking of it as existing in the
soul, is the result of an early and strong association. As
the wound in the hand, for instance, is the cause of the
painful feeling, the consequence is, that the sensation, and
the place whence it arose, constantly go together in our
thoughts. The result of this connexion, which has been
repeated and continued from our youth up, is, that we
find it extremely difficult in later life to separate them,
even with the greatest effort. So difficult is it, that a sol-
dier whose arm or leg has been amputated, still speaks
of feeling pain in those limbs, though they are now, per-
haps, buried in the earth or the depths of the sea.-Count
Segur, in giving an account of the great battle of Boro-
dino, observes of a certain wounded soldier, that he com-
plained of suffering in the limbs which he no longer pos-
sessed. And he immediately adds (and there is no ques-
tion probably as to the fact), that this is a common case
with mutilated persons.
Although we are liable in these cases to be led into a
mistake, if we do not guard against it with care, it is, per◄
(1.) INTELLECTUAL.
297
:
haps, an obvious remark, that the foundation of this lia-
bility to error is laid in our constitution for beneficent
ends. It is not ordinarily so important in a practical
point of view, that we should attend to the internal feel-
ing, as to the external part which is affected. An injury
in the external senses, the muscles, or the limbs, if it be
not attended to, soon affects other parts of the body, and
even life itself. Hence Providence has put us in the way
to form this strong and almost unconquerable mental hab-
it, in order to secure protection where it seems to be most
urgently and frequently needed.
§ 235. Connexion of our ideas of extension and time.
If we examine carefully our notions of Time, we shall
find here also a CASUAL ASSOCIATION of long continuance
and of great strength. It is believed to be the fact, that
Time, as it exists in the apprehensions of most persons, is
regarded as something extended. It is not necessary to
delay here to undertake a definition of time, to show what
it is in the abstract, or to give a history of the notion
which we form of it. Taking it for granted that every
one knows what is meant when we use that term, we
merely assert here, that for some cause or other it is ex-
ceedingly difficult to think of it except in the light of a
modification of EXTENSION. The correctness of this re-
mark may not, perhaps, appear perfectly obvious at first:
but the expressions which we apply to intervals of dura-
tion are an evidence of its truth.
We say before such a time or after such a time, the
same as before or after any material object; we speak of
a long or short time with no more hesitation than of a
long or short distance, of a long or short bridge, or rail-
way, or any other object of extension. We utter ourselves
precisely in the same way we should do if we were cer-
tain of having detected some real analogy between the
two, between length and shortness in material substances,
and what are called length and shortness in time. But it
is not too much to say that there is no such analogy, no
such similitude; nor is it worth while to anticipate that
we shall ever be able to detect such analogy or similitude,
until we can in practice apply the measures of feet, ells,
298
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS.
roods, &c., to hours, and days, and weeks. How then
can it be accounted for, that we apply terms nearly in the
same way as if this were the case, and as if such meas-
urements could be made?
To this inquiry we are not prepared to return an an-
swer which we can assert to be entirely satisfactory. It
is probably only another instance of that early and strong
habit which we have all formed, of transferring in our
thoughts the material to the immaterial, and of contem-
plating what is abstract and invisible in the light of what
is seen and tangible. Mr. Stewart, however, is more def-
inite in his explanation. He suggests that the strong as-
sociation of these ideas has most probably arisen in this
manner, viz., from our constantly measuring one of these
quantities by the other. It is the common method, as is
well known, to measure time by motion, and motion is
measured by extension. In an hour the hand of a clock
moves over a certain space; in two hours over double the
space, and so on. And in this way he supposes we may
have been gradually led to associate so strongly with the
idea of time a conception analogous to that of visible and
material length.
No doubt it is convenient to apply the terms "long"
and “short," "before" and "after," and others similar, to
Time. We could not well dispense with them. But it
ought to be remembered, if we would have a right notion
of things, that the application of those expressions has
arisen either from the mode in which we measure time, or
from some other accidental grounds of association; and
that time and extension are essentially distinct in their
nature.
§ 236. Of high and low notes in music.
We speak of high and low in reference to notes in
music, the same as of the high or low position of material
bodies. There is supposed to be some analogy between
the relation which the notes in the scale of music bear to
each other, and the relation of superiority and inferiority
in the position of bodies of matter. But it is impossible
to prove the existence of such analogy, however gener-
ally it may have been supposed; and the supposition it-
(1.) INTELLECTUAL.
299
self of its existence has no doubt arisen from a casual as-
sociation of ideas, which has acquired strength by lapse
of time and by repetition.
A proof of this association of ideas being purely acci-
dental is, that an association the very reverse of this was
once prevalent.—It is remarked in the preface to Greg-
ory's edition of Euclid's works, that the more ancient
Greek writers considered the grave sounds as high, and
the acute ones as low. The present mode of speaking
on the subject is of more recent origin; but at what time
and in what way it was introduced cannot be asserted
with confidence. In the preface just referred to, it is,
however, observed, that the ancient Greek custom of look-
ing upon the grave sounds as high and the acute as low,
precisely the reverse of what is now common, continued
down until the time of Boethius. It has been conjectured
with some ingenuity, that this connexion or association
of thought among the Greeks and Romans, for it was
equally prevalent among both, might have been owing to
the construction of their musical instruments. The string
which sounded the grave, or what we call the low tone,
it has been supposed, was placed highest, and that which
gave the shrill or acute had the lowest place. If this
conjecture could be ascertained to be well founded, it
would strikingly show from what very slight causes
strong and permanent associations often arise. It is hard-
ly necessary to observe, that it is important to examine the
origin and progress of such associations, in order that we
may correct those erroneous and illusive notions which
will be found to be built upon them.*

§ 237. Connexion of the ideas of extension and colour.
There is no necessary connexion between colour, as the
* It is not necessary, for any purpose we have in view, here to trace
he origin of the association; but it is undoubtedly the fact, that we al
nost invariably attribute the notion of highness or loftiness to those who
xcel, or are particularly favoured in any respects. We can hardly
think of a nobleman, prince, or king, without creating for them an ima-
ginary orbit somewhere in the upper sky, where they revolve far above
the heads of ordinary mortals. Hence the expressions High rank, High
birth, Elevated genius, Superior talents, &c., and their opposites, Low
rank, Inferior genius, and the like.-(See Stewart's Essays, ii., ch. iii.,
Kaime's Criticism, part vii., ch. iv.)
300
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS.
term is commonly employed by philosophers, and exten-
sion. The word COLOUR properly denotes a sensation in
the mind; the word EXTENSION, the quality of an exter-
nal, material object. There is, therefore, no more natural
connexion, and no more analogy between the two, than
there is between pain and solidity. And yet it so hap-
pens that we never have the sensation or idea of colour
without at the same time associating extension with it;
we find them, however different they may be in their na-
ture, inseparable in our thoughts. This strong associa-
tion is formed in consequence of our always perceiving
extension at the very time in which the sensation of col-
our is excited in the mind. The perception of the one
and the sensation of the other have been so long simul-
taneous, that we have been gradually drawn into the be-
lief that, on the one hand, all colour has extension, and
on the other, all extension has colour. But what we call
colour being merely a state of the mind, it is not possible
that it should with propriety be predicated of any exter-
nal, material substances. Nor is it less evident, if colour
be merely a sensation or state of the mind, that matter
can exist and does exist without it.
But what has been said will not satisfy all the queries
which may be started on this point, unless we remark also
on the ambiguity in the word COLOUR. The view which
has been taken of the connexion between colour and ex-
tension, is founded on the supposition that colour denotes
a sensation of the mind, and that merely. It seems to be
supposed by some writers that the word colour has two
meanings, and that it is thus generally understood: (1.)
It denotes that disposition, or arrangement, or whatever it
may be, in the particles of matter, which not only cause
the rays of light to be reflected, but to be reflected in
different ways: (2.). It denotes that mental sensation
which follows when the rays have reached the retina of
the eye.
When people use the term with this diversity
of signification, they can say with truth that external bod-
ies have colour, and also that colour is a sensation of the
mind. It may be said also, in the first sense of the term
which has been mentioned, that colour has extension, be-
cause particles of matter have extension. But it is not al-
(1.) INTELLECTUAL.
301
together evident that people generally make this distinc-
tion, although some may. There is great reason to think
that they commonly mean by the term the appearance of
colour or the sensation in the mind; and they no doubt,
in general, regard this appearance or sensation as belong-
ing to external objects, as being in some sense a part of
those objects, and as having extension. How erroneous
this supposition is has already appeared!
§ 238. Tendency of the mind to pass from the sign to the thing signified.
Mr. Stewart gives a reason for our inattention to the
internal sensation of colour (or colour considered as an
affection of the mind), which is worthy of some notice.
The principle, it will be observed, is a general one, appli-
cable to other cases as well as this." It is well known,"
he says, " to be a general law of our constitution, when
one thing is destined, either by nature or by convention,
to be the sign of another, that the mind has a disposition
to pass on as rapidly as possible to the thing signified,
without dwelling on the sign as an object worthy of its
attention. The most remarkable of all examples of this
occurs in the acquired perceptions of sight, where our es-
timates of distance are frequently the result of an intel-
lectual process, comparing a variety of different signs to-
gether, without a possibility on our part, the moment af-
terward, of recalling one single step of the process to our
recollection. Our inattention to the sensations of colour,
considered as affections of the Mind or as modifications
of our own being, appears to me to be a fact of precisely
the same description; for all these sensations were plain-
ly intended by nature to perform the offices of signs, in-
dicating to us the figures and distances of things external.
Of their essential importance in this point of view, an idea
may be formed by supposing for a moment the whole
face of nature to exhibit only one uniform colour, without
the slightest variety even of light and shade. Is it not
self-evident, that, on this supposition, the organ of sight
would be entirely useless, inasmuch as it is by the varie-
ties of colour alone that the outlines or visible figures of
bodies are so defined as to be distinguishable one from
another? Nor could the eye in this case give us any in-
VOL. I.-C C
302
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS.
formation concerning diversities of distance; for all the
various signs of it enumerated by optical writers, pre-
suppose the antecedent recognition of the bodies around
us as separate objects of perception. It is not, therefore,
surprising, that signs so indispensably subservient to the
exercise of our noblest sense should cease in early in-
fancy to attract notice as the subjects of our conscious-
ness, and that afterward they should present themselves
to the Imagination rather as qualities of Matter than as
attributes of Mind.”*
§ 239. Whether there be heat in fire, &c.
The questions, whether there be heat in fire, coldness
in snow, sweetness in sugar, and the like, seem well suit-
ed to the inquisitive and nicely discriminating spirit of
the Scholastic ages. Although well adapted to exercise
the ingenuity of the Schools, they are far from being
without some importance in the more practical philoso-
phy of later times. If these questions concern merely
the matter of fact; if the inquiry be, What do people
think on these points? it admits of different answers.
But this is of less consequence to be known than to know
what is the true view of this subject.
The following, there is much reason to think, is the
view which should be taken. If by heat, cold, and taste
in bodies we merely mean that there is this or that dis-
position, or motion, or attraction in the particles, then it
must clearly be granted that fire is hot, that snow is cold,
and sugar is sweet. But if by heat is understood what
one feels on the application of fire to the limbs, or if by
sweetness is understood the sensation of taste when a
sapid body is applied to the tongue, &c., then fire has no
heat, sugar no sweetness, and snow is not cold. These
states of the mind can never be transformed into any-
thing material and external. The heat or the cold which
I feel, and the different kinds of tastes, are sensations in
the soul, and nothing else.
§ 240. Whether there be meaning in words.
We
say in our common discourse that there is meaning
* Stewart's Historical Dissertation, pt. i., sect. ii., ch. ii.
(1.) INTELLECTUAL.
303
in words, that there is meaning in the printed page of an
author; and the language is perhaps sufficiently correct for
those occasions on which it is ordinarily employed. We
do not deem it necessary to object to the common mode
of speaking in this particular instance, nor to undertake
to propose anything better. But there is here an associ-
ation of ideas similar, both in its nature and its effects, to
that existing between extension and colour already re-
marked upon.
When objects external to us are presented to the sense
of sight, there is immediately the sensation of some col-
our. This sensation we have been so long in the habit
of referring to the external object, that we speak and act
as if the colour were truly in that object and not in our-
selves; in the language of D'Alembert, as if the sensa-
tion were transported out of the mind, and spread over
the material substance. And it is not until we take
some time to reflect, and until we institute a careful ex-
amination, that we become satisfied of our error.
In the same way, when we look upon the page of an
author, we say it has meaning, or that it is full of
thought; whereas, in truth, in consequence of a long-
continued and obstinate association, of which we are
hardly sensible ourselves, we transport the meaning or
thought out of ourselves, and spread it upon that page.
The thought or meaning is in ourselves, but is placed by
us, through the means of a casual but very strong asso-
ciation, in the written marks which are before us. All
the power which the words have results from conven-
tion, or, what is the same thing, exists in consequence of
certain intellectual habits formed in reference to those
words. It is these habits, formed in reference to them, it
is this mental correspondence, which gives these charac-
ters all their value; and without the mind, which an-
swers to and which interprets them, they could be con-
sidered as nothing more than mere black strokes drawn
upon white paper, and essentially differing in nothing
from the zigzag and unmeaning delineations of a school-
boy on the sand. As all the beautiful varieties of colour
do not and cannot have an existence without the mind,
which has sensations of them or perceives them, so words
304
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS.
are useless, are unmeaning, are nothing without the in-
terpretations of an intellect that has been trained up so
as to correspond, to them. If it were otherwise, there
would be meaning in the unknown inscriptions on the
bricks and other fragments of antiquity which are occa-
sionally brought from the banks of the Euphrates; there
would be meaning in those hieroglyphic figures on the
monuments of Egypt, which have hitherto, or, at least,
until a very recent period, eluded the efforts to interpret
them; in neither case would they stare upon us with that
unintelligent vacancy which has so long characterized
them. They are now without meaning, without life and
intelligence, for this reason, and this only, that the minds
which once corresponded to them, and which gave them
life and intelligence, are no more. By association, there-
fore, we refer the meaning to the written characters or
words, when, in truth, it is in the mind, and there alone.
§ 241. Benefit of examining such connexions of thought.
It is of great importance to us to be able to separate
ideas which our situation and habits may have intimate-
ly combined together. To a person who has this power
in a considerable degree, we readily give the credit of
possessing a clear and discriminating judgment. And
this mental characteristic is of great consequence, not
only in pursuing the study of intellectual philosophy,
but in the conduct of life. It is, in particular, directly
subservient to the power of reasoning, since all pro-
cesses of reasoning are made up of successive proposi-
tions, the comparison of which implies the exercise of
judgment. The associations of thought which have been
mentioned in this chapter are so intimate, or, rather, al-
most indissoluble, that they try and discipline the mind
in this respect; they teach it to discriminate. They are
worthy to be examined, therefore, and to be understood,
not only for the immediate pleasure which they afford in
the discovery of our errors, but also because they have
the effect of training up one's powers to some good pur-
pose. Let a person be accustomed to making such dis-
criminations as are implied in fully understanding the in-
stances in this chapter, and he acquires a readiness which
PRO
(1.) INTELLECTUAL.
305
is not easily outwitted; he trains himself to such a quick-
ness of perception in finding out what truly belongs to an
object and what does not, as will not allow him to be im-
posed upon by that confusion of ideas which in so many
cases distorts the judgments of the multitude.
§ 242. Power of the will over mental associations.
In view of what has been said in this and the former
chapters, the interesting inquiry naturally arises, What is
the degree of influence which we are able to exercise by
mere volition or will over associated trains of mental
states? In reply to this inquiry, an obvious remark is,
that we cannot, by a mere direct and positive act of the
will, call up or create such associated trains. What has
already been said on the subject of laws of association,
involves that their appearance and departure depend on
other causes than a mere unconditional order or com-
mand. Furthermore, such is the nature of the volitive
faculty, that we evidently can never will the existence of
anything without knowing what it is which we will or
choose. This, viz., that the act of volition necessarily
implies a perceived or known object of volition, requires.
no further proof than is contained in the proposition it-
self. Therefore the expressions, to will to have a certain
thought or train of thought, clearly imply the present ex-
istence of that thought or train; and, consequently, there
can be no such thing as calling up or originating thoughts
by immediate volition.
To this view of the inefficiency of direct voluntary
power in the origination of our associated ideas and feel-
ings, and to the argument in support of it, those mental
efforts which we term Recollection or intentional mem-
ory have been brought up as an answer. In cases of
intentional memory it will be said, an object or event is
remembered, or, in other words, an idea or train of ideas
is called up, by mere direct volition or choice. To this
objection may we not satisfactorily propose this reply ?
It is evident, before we attempt or make a formal effort
to remember the particular circumstances of an event,
that the event itself, in general, must have been the ob-
ject of our attention. There is some, particular thing in
Cc 2
306
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS.
all cases of intentional remembrance which we wish to
call to mind, although we are totally unable to state
what it is; but we know that it is somehow connected
with some general event which we already have in mem-
ory. Now, by revolving in mind the great facts or out-
lines of that event, it so happens that the particular cir-
cumstance which we were in search of is called up.
But certainly no one can say that this is done by a direct
volition; so far from it, that nothing more is wanted to
explain it than the common principles of association.
This statement is illustrated whenever, in reciting an ex-
tract which we had committed to memory, we are at a
loss for the beginning of a particular sentence. In such
a case we naturally repeat a number of times the con-
cluding words of the preceding sentence, and very soon
we recall the sentence which was lost; not, however, by
direct volition, but by association.
❤
§ 243. Association controlled by indirect voluntary power.
But we would not be understood to say that the will
possesses no influence whatever in the origination and
control of trains of thought; its influence is very consid-
erable, although it is not, as far as the origination of
them is concerned, immediate and direct. (1.) We
have, in the first place, the power of checking or delay-
ing the succession of mental states. This power is al-
ways found to exist when the direction of the mind to-
wards a particular subject is attended with those feelings.
of desire or sentiments of duty which are understood to
be prerequisite as a basis or foundation for the acts of
the will. We are not, indeed, enabled by our power in
this respect either directly to call up or to banish any
one or any number of our thoughts. But the conse-
quence is, a variety of trains of thought are suggested,
which would not have been suggested had it not been
for the circumstance of the original train being delayed.
Thus, in the course of our mental associations, the
name of Sir Isaac Newton occurs; we experience a
strong emotion of interest; we voluntarily check the
current of our thoughts at that name, and we feel and
are conscious that we have within us the ability to do so.
(1.) INTELLECTUal.
307
While we delay upon it, a variety of series of ideas oc-
curs. At one moment we think of eminent mathemati-
cians and astronomers, for he himself was one; at an-
other, we think of those contemporaries who were his
particular friends, whatever their rank in science, be-
cause they lived at the same time; a moment after, our
minds dwell upon some striking incidents in his life, or
some marked features in his social or intellectual char-
acter; and again, we may be led to think, almost in the
same instant, of some proposition or demonstration which
had once exercised his patience and skill. In conse-
quence of delaying a few moments on the name, or, rather,
on the general idea of the man, these different trains of
thought are presented. And this is not all. When
these various trains of thought are brought before the
mind, we can evidently fix our meditations upon one of
them, if we have a desire to do it and choose to do it, in
such a way and with such intensity as to result in the
dismission and absence of others.-This is one way in
which, by an act of volition, we are able to exercise a
considerable indirect power in calling up associations,
besides a power in regard to them, both direct and indi-
rect, when they are thus brought into existence.
§ 244. Further illustrations of indirect voluntary power.
(2.) We acquire, in the second place, great power
over our associations by HABIT; and as no man ordina-
rily forms such habit without choosing and determining
to form it, we have here another instance of the indirect
power of volition. By the term Habit, when it is ap-
plied to our mental operations, we mean, in particular,
that facility or readiness which they acquire by being fre-
quently repeated. The consequence of repetition or fre-
quent practice is, that certain associations are soon very
much strengthened, or that a facility in them is acquired.
(See § 98.)
Striking instances of the effect of habit have been
given in the course of this chapter, although it might
perhaps be said, in respect to the results involved in these
cases, that they were forced upon us by our particular
situation rather than brought about by positive desire
308
CASUAL ASSOCIATIONS.
and choice. But there are other instances to which this
remark is not equally applicable. It is a well-known
fact, that almost any person may become a punster or
rhymer by taking the pains to form a habit, that is, by
increasing the facility of certain associations by frequent
repetition. If a person, for instance, makes it a practice
to recall words which have a similar sound, this particu-
lar form of association will by degrees be so strengthen-
ed, that in the end it will be by no means difficult to se-
cure the recurrence of such words. This is the true ex-
planation of the power of rhyming. It is well known
that most persons, whether they possess poetical genius
or not, may acquire this power by continuing for a length
of time their search after words of a like termination.-
Again, if a public speaker has taken the pains to fix in
his mind certain permanent principles, which are to guide
him in the division and subdivision of his discourse, he
acquires by practice a great readiness in respect to them,
and immediately applies them to every subject of debate.
By means of the habit which he has formed, he is not
only enabled to resolve a subject into suitable parts, but
to pass without hesitation or danger of mistake from one
part of it to another; whereas a person who has not
formed this habit is perpetually at a loss; he advances
and retreats, goes over the ground again and again, and
involves himself in inextricable confusion.
These are instances, among many others, of power ac-
quired by Habit; and these habits are formed in obedi-
ence to an act of the Will; in other words, in conformity
with a purely voluntary determination.-(See, in connex-
ion with this subject, Stewart's Elements, vol. i., ch. vi.,
pt. 2; Historical Dissertation, pt. i., § ii., ch. 2; Brown's
Lectures, xli., xlii., xlix., &c.)

MEMORY
309
CHAPTER VIII.
MEMORY.
**** - t
§ 244. Remarks on the general nature of memory.
In the further prosecution of our subject, we naturally
proceed from association to the examination of the Mem-
ory, inasmuch as the latter necessarily implies the ante-
cedent existence of the former, and in its very nature is
closely allied to it. In reference to the great question of
the Origin of human Knowledge, the Memory, as has
already been intimated, is to be considered a source of
knowledge rather in its connexion with other mental sus-
ceptibilities than in itself. It does not appear how we
could form any abstract ideas, based upon a knowledge
of objects and classes of objects, without the aid of mem-
ory; and it is well known that its presence and action is
essentially involved in all the exercises of the reasoning
power and of the imagination. Without delaying, how-
ever, on its connexion with the origin of knowledge,
we shall proceed to consider the susceptibility itself,
both in its general nature and in some of its peculiarities.
Memory is that power or susceptibility of the mind by
which those conceptions are originated which are modi-
fied by a perception of the relation of past time. Accord-
ingly, it is not a simple, but complex action of the in-
tellectual principle, implying, (1.) a conception of the
object, (2.) a perception of the relation of priority in its
existence. That is, we not only have a conception of
the object, but this conception is attended with the con-
viction that it underwent the examination of our senses,
or was in some way perceived by us at some former pe-
riod.
When we imagine that we stand in the midst of a for-
est or on the top of a mountain, but remain safe all the
while at our own fireside, these pleasing ideas of woods,
and of skies painted over us, and of plains under our
feet, are mere conceptions. But when with these insu-
310
MEMORY.
lated conceptions we connect the relation of time, and
they gleam upon our souls as the woods, plains, and
mountains of our youthful days, then those intellectual
states, which were before mere conceptions, become RE-
MEMBRANCES. And the power which the mind possesses
of originating these latter complex states, is what usu-
ally goes under the name of the power or faculty of
MEMORY.
§ 246. Of memory as a ground or law of belief.
Memory, as explained in the preceding section, is a
ground or law of Belief. So far as we have no particu-
lar reason to doubt that the sensations and perceptions
in any given case are correctly reported in the remem-
brance, the latter controls our belief and actions not less
than those antecedent states of mind on which it is found-
ed. Such is the constitution of the human mind. (See
§ 26.)—It will be noticed that, in asserting the natural
dependence of belief on memory, we guard it by an ex-
press limitation. It is only when we have no reason to
doubt of our antecedent experiences being correctly re-
ported in the remembrances, that our reliance on them is
of the highest kind. It is the same here as in respect to
the Senses and Testimony; we confidently rely on the
memory, but are not exempt from some degree of expo-
sure to error from it, although, as in those cases, it is an
exposure which we are able to guard against with suit-
able care and pains. (See § 27, 89.)
Te
In what way and in what particulars this caution and
pains are to be exerted, it is not necessary minutely to de-
tail here. One thing, however, seems to be in general
certain, that we are not led into error by means of the
memory ignorantly, and without the ability to guard
against it. Every man knows, from a species of internal
feeling, whether there be grounds for doubting his mem-
ory in any particular case or not; for the same Con-
sciousness which gives him a knowledge of the fact of
memory, gives him a knowledge of the degree also in
which it exists; viz., whether in a high degree or low,
whether distinct or obscure. If it be the fact that he
finds reason for suspecting his reports, his reliance will
MEMORY.
311
either be diminished in proportion to this suspicion, or he
will take means, if he be able to, to remove the grounds
of such suspicion.
It cannot reasonably be anticipated that any objection
will be made to the doctrine of a reliance on memory,
with the limitation which has now been mentioned.
Without such reliance, our situation would be no better
at least than if we had been framed with an utter inabil-
ity to rely on the Senses or on Testimony; we could
hardly sustain an existence; we certainly could not de-
rive anything in aid of that existence from the experi-
ence of the past.
§ 247. Of differences in the strength of memory.
The ability to remember is the common privilege of
all, and, generally speaking, it is possessed in nearly
equal degrees. To each one there is given a sufficient
readiness in this respect; his power of remembrance is
such as to answer all the ordinary purposes of life. But,
although there is in general a nearly equal distribution of
this power, we find a few instances of great weakness, and
other instances of great strength of memory.
It is related by Seneca of the Roman orator Horten-
sius, that, after sitting a whole day at a public sale, he
gave an account from memory, in the evening, of all
things sold, with the prices and the names of the pur-
chasers; and this account, when compared with what had
been taken in writing by a notary, was found to be exact
in every particular.
.
The following is an instance of strength of memory
somewhat remarkable.-An Englishman, at a certain
time, came to Frederic the Great of Prussia for the ex-
press purpose of giving him an exhibition of his power
of recollection. Frederic sent for Voltaire, who read to.
the king a pretty long poem which he had just finished.
The Englishman was present, and was in such a position
that he could hear every word of the poem, but was con-
cealed from Voltaire's notice. After the reading of the
poem was finished, Frederic observed to the author that
the production could not be an original one, as there was
a foreign gentleman present who could recite every word
312
MEMORY.
I
of it. Voltaire listened with amazement to the stranger,
as he repeated word for word the poem which he had
been at so much pains in composing; and, giving way to
a momentary freak of passion, he tore the manuscript in
pieces. A statement was then made to him of the cir-
cumstances under which the Englishman became acquaint-
with his poem, which had the effect to mitigate his an-
ger, and he was very willing to do penance for the sud-
denness of his passion by copying down the work from
a second repetition of it by the stranger, who was able
to go through with it as before.
Ă considerable number of instances of this description
are found in the recorded accounts of various individu-
als, but they must be considered as exceptions to the
general features of the human mind, the existence of
which it is difficult to explain on any known principles.
They are probably original and constitutional traits; and,
if such be the case, they necessarily preclude any expla-
nation further than what is involved in the mere state-
ment of that fact. There are, however, some diversities
and peculiarities of memory, less striking, perhaps, than
those just referred to, which admit a more detailed no-
tice.
§ 248. Of circumstantial memory, or that species of memory which is
based on the relations of contiguity in time and place.
There is a species of memory more than usually ob-
vious and outward in its character, which is based essen-
tially upon the relations of Contiguity in time and place.
-In the explanation of this form or species of memory,
it may be proper to recur a moment to the explanations
on the general nature of memory which have already
been given. It will be kept in mind that our remem-
⚫brances are merely conceptions, modified by a perception.
of the relation of past time. Removing, then, the mod-
ification of past time, and the remaining element of our
remembrances will be conceptions merely. Our concep-
tions, it will be recollected, cannot be called up by a
mere voluntary effort, because to will the existence of a
conception necessarily implies the actual existence of the
conception already in the mind. They arise in the mind,
MEMORY.
313
therefore, in obedience to the influence of some of those
principles of ASSOCIATION which have already been con-
sidered. And Memory, accordingly, will assume a pe-
culiarity of aspect corresponding to the associating prin-
ciple which predominates. If it be based, for instance,
on the law of Contiguity, as it will deal chiefly with
mere facts, and their outward incidents and circumstan-
ces, without entering deeply into their interior nature, it
will be what may be described, not merely as an obvious
and practical, but, in particular, as a circumstantial mem-
ory. If it be based chiefly on the other principles, it
may be expected to exhibit a less easy and flexible, a less
minute and specific, but a more philosophical character.
That species of memory which is founded chiefly on
the law of contiguity, and which is distinguished by its
specificalness or circumstantiality, will be found to pre-
vail especially among uneducated people, not merely ar-
tisans and other labouring classes, but among all those,
in whatever situation of life, who have either not possess-
ed, or, possessing, have not employed, the means of intel-
lectual culture. Every one must have recollected instan-
ces of the great readiness exhibited by these persons in
their recollection of facts, places, times, names, specific
arrangements in dress and in buildings, traditions, and lo-
cal incidents. In their narrations, for instance, of what
has come within their knowledge, they will, in general,
be found to specify the time of events; not merely an in-
definite or approximated time, but the identical year,
and month, and day, and hour. In their description of
persons and places, and in their account of the dress and
equipage of persons, and of the localities and incidents of
places, they are found to be no less particular.—When
we assert, however, that this species of memory, which,
from the peculiar aspect it exhibits, may conveniently be
designated as CIRCUMSTANTIAL memory, is based upon the
principle of Contiguity, we do not mean to intimate that
its possessors are naturally destitute of the other associa-
ting principles, or that they necessarily possess them in a
much lower degree than others. As compared with the
principle of Contiguity, the principles of Resemblance or
Analogy, of Contrast, and of Cause and Effect, appear to
VOL. I.-D D
314
MEMORY.
be more remote and inward, and less accessible by famil-
iar and outward influences. Accordingly, as a general
statement, they imply, in their exercise, a greater degree
of mental developement. And hence it naturally hap-
pens, that those persons who have not possessed or have
not employed the means of this developement, even if
they are possessed of the principles themselves, avail
themselves of those more obvious and easy helps to mem-
ory which nature has placed within their reach. In oth-
er words, it is almost invariably the case, that they aim
to strengthen their recollections of facts and events, by
associating them with those things which happened at
the same time, or were proximate in position. And
having, by almost constant exercise, greatly strengthened
the tendency to those associations which exist in conse-
quence of mere contiguity, they can readily tell you not
only the precise place where anything has happened, but
almost everything which has happened in the immediate
neighbourhood; not only the time when the event oc-
curred, but many other things which occurred about the
same period; not only the person, but numberless partic-
ularities of dress, form, and position.
§ 249. Illustrations of specific or circumstantial memory.
The great masters of human nature (Shakspeare among
others) have occasionally indicated their knowledge of
this species of memory. Mrs. Quickly, in reminding Fal-
staff of his promise of marriage, discovers her readiness
of recollection in the specification of the great variety of
circumstances under which the promise was made. Her
recollection in the case was not a mere general remem-
brance of the solitary fact, but was, in the manner of a
witness in a court of justice, circumstantial." Thou didst
swear to me on a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin
chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, on Wed-
nesday in Whitsun week, when the prince broke thy head
for likening him to a singing man of Windsor." The
coachman in Cornelius Scriblerus gives an account of
what he had seen in Bear Garden: "Two men fought for
a prize; one was a fair man, a sergeant in the Guards;
the other black, a butcher; the sergeant had red trou-
-m
MEMORY.
315
sers, the butcher blue; they fought upon a stage about
four o'clock, and the sergeant wounded the butcher in
the leg."
"In a certain village of Estramadura," says the hum-
ble squire of the Knight of La Mancha, "there lived a
certain goat-shepherd. I mean one that keeps goats;
and this shepherd or goatherd, as the story goes, was
called Lope Ruyz; and it came to pass that this Lope
Ruyz fell in love with a shepherdess, whose name was
Torralva; which shepherdess, whose name was Torralva,
was the daughter of a rich herdsman; and this rich herds-
man," &c. Don Quixote took exception to Sancho's tell-
ing the story with so much particularity; but he frankly
and honestly replied, that all the people in his country
told stories in that manner, and he must tell it so, or not
tell it at all.

§ 250. Of philosophic memory, or that species of memory which is
based on other relations than those of contiguity
There is another species of memory, clearly distin-
guishable from the CIRCUMSTANTIAL memory, which may
be described as the Philosophic. This form of memory,
relying but seldom on the aids of mere Contiguity, is sus-
tained chiefly by the relations of Resemblance, Contrast,
and Cause and Effect. The circumstantial memory,
which deals almost exclusively with minute particulars,
and especially with those which are accessible by the
outward senses, admirably answers the purpose of those
persons in whom it is commonly found. But mere con-
tiguity in time and place, which is almost the sole prin-
ciple that binds together facts and events in the rec-
ollection of those whose powers are but imperfectly de-
veloped, possesses comparatively little value in the esti-
mation of the philosopher. He looks more deeply into
the nature of things. Bestowing but slight attention on
what is purely outward and incidental, he detects with a
discriminating eye the analogies and oppositions, the
causes and consequences of events. It would seem that
the celebrated Montaigne was destitute, perhaps in a more
than common degree, of that form of reminiscence which
we have proposed to designate as the circumstantial
316
MEMORY.
""
memory. He says on a certain occasion of himself, "I
am forced to call my servants by the names of their em-
ployments, or of the countries where they were born, for
I can hardly remember their proper names; and, if I
should live long, I question whether I should remember
my own name. But it does not appear, notwithstanding
his inability to remember names and insulated facts, espe-
cially if they related to the occurrences of common life,
that he had much reason to complain of an absolute want
of memory.
His writings indicate his cast of mind, that
he was reflective and speculative; and he expressly gives
us to understand, that he was much more interested in
the study of the principles of human nature than of out-
ward objects. Accordingly, the result was such as might
be expected, that his memory was rather philosophical
than circumstantial, and more tenacious of general prin-
ciples than of specific facts.
A man, whose perceptions are naturally philosophic,
and whose remembrances consequently take the same
turn, may not be able to make so rapid and striking ad-
vances in all branches of knowledge as a person of dif-
ferent intellectual bias. Almost every department of
science presents itself to the student's notice under two
forms, the practical and theoretical; its facts and its rules
of proceeding on the one hand, and its principles on the
other. The circumstantial memory rapidly embraces the
practical part, seizing its facts and enunciating its rules
with a promptness of movement and a show of power
which throws the philosophic memory quite into the shade.
But it is otherwise when they advance into the less ob-
vious and showy, but more fertile region of analogies,
classification, and principles.-On this topic Mr. Stewart
has some pertinent remarks. "A man destitute of ge-
nius (that is to say, in this connexion, of a naturally phil-
osophic turn of mind), may, with little effort, treasure up
in his memory a number of particulars in chemistry or
natural history, which he refers to no principle, and from
which he deduces no conclusion; and from his facility in
acquiring this stock of information, may flatter himself
with the belief that he possesses a natural taste for these
branches of knowledge. But they who are really des-
'.
MEMORY.
317
tined to extend the boundaries of science, when they first
enter on new pursuits, feel their attention distracted and
their memory overloaded with facts, among which they
can trace no relation, and are sometimes apt to despair
entirely of their future progress. In due time, however,
their superiority appears, and arises in part from that
very dissatisfaction which they at first experienced, and
which does not cease to stimulate their inquiries, till they
are enabled to trace, amid a chaos of apparently uncon-
nected materials, that simplicity and beauty which always
characterize the operations of nature."
§ 251. Further illustrations of philosophic memory.
Mr. Stewart pursues this train of remark further, main-
taining, as a general thing, that a man of genius has his
knowledge less at command than those who are possess-
ed of an inferior degree of originality, and particularly in
respect to those subjects on which he has found his origi-
nality and invention most fertile. And in this connexion
he mentions the case of Sir Isaac Newton in terms as
follows: "Sir Isaac Newton (as we are told by Dr.
Pemberton) was often at a loss when the conversation
turned on his own discoveries. It is probable that they
made but a slight impression on his mind, and that a con-
sciousness of his inventive powers prevented him from ta-
king much pains to treasure them up in his memory.—
Men of little ingenuity seldom forget the ideas they ac-
quire, because they know that, when an occasion occurs
for applying their knowledge to use, they must trust to
memory and not to invention. Explain an arithmetical
rule to a person of common understanding who is unac-
quainted with the principles of the science; he will soon
get the rule by heart, and become dexterous in the appli-
cation of it. Another, of more ingenuity, will examine
the principle of the rule before he applies it to use, and
will scarcely take the trouble to commit to memory a
process which he knows he can at any time, with a little
reflection, recover. The consequence will be, that, in the
practice of calculation, he will appear more slow and hes-
itating than if he followed the received rules of arithmetic
without reflection or reasoning.
DD 2
318
MEMORY.
W
"Something of the same kind happens every day in con-
versation. By far the greater part of the opinions we an-
nounce in it are not the immediate result of reasoning on
the spot, but have been previously formed in the closet,
or, perhaps, have been adopted implicitly on the author-
ity of others. The promptitude, therefore, with which a
man decides in ordinary discourse, is not a certain test of
the quickness of his apprehension, as it may perhaps
arise from those uncommon efforts to furnish the memory
with acquired knowledge, by which men of slow parts
endeavour to compensate for their want of invention;
while, on the other hand, it is possible that a conscious-
ness of originality may give rise to a manner apparently
embarrassed, by leading the person who feels it to trust
too much to extempore exertions."
홍
​
§ 252. Of that species of memory called intentional recollection.
There is a species or exercise of the memory, known
as INTENTIONAL RECOLLECTION, the explanation of which
renders it proper briefly to recur again to the nature of
memory in general. The definition of MEMORY which
has been given is, that it is the power or susceptibility
of the mind by which those conceptions are originated,
which are modified by the perception of the relation of
past time. This definition necessarily resolves memory,
in a considerable degree at least, into Association. But
it will be recollected that our trains of associated thought
are not, in the strict sense, voluntary; that is, are not di-
rectly under the control of the WILL. They come and de-
part (we speak now exclusively of their origination) with-
out its being possible for us to exercise anything more
than an INDIRECT power over them. (See § 242.) It fol-
lows, from these facts, that our remembrances also, which
may be regarded in part as merely associated trains, are
not, in the strict sense, voluntary; or, in other words, it
is impossible for us to remember in consequence of mere-
ly choosing to remember. To will or to choose to re-
member anything implies that the thing in question is
already in the mind; and hence there is not only an im-
possibility resulting from the nature of the mind, but also
an absurdity in the idea of calling up thought by a mere
MEMORY.
319
direct volition. Our chief power, therefore, in quicken-
ing and strengthening the memory, will be found to con-
sist in our skill in applying and modifying the various
principles or laws of association. And this brings us to
an explanation of what is called INTENTIONAL MEMORY or
RECOLLECTION; a subject which was partly illustrated in
the section above referred to.
Whenever we put forth an exercise of intentional mem-
ory, or make a formal attempt to remember some circum-
stance, it is evident that the event in general, of which
the circumstance, when recalled, will be found to be a part,
must have previously been an object of attention. That
is, we remember the great outlines of some story, but can-
not, in the first instance, give a complete account of it,
which we wish to do. We make an effort to recall the
circumstances not remembered in two ways.-We may,
in the first place, form different suppositions, and see
which agrees best with the general outlines; the general
features or outlines of the subject being detained before
us, with a considerable degree of permanency, by means
of some feeling of desire or interest. This method of re-
storing thoughts is rather an inference of reasoning than
a genuine exercise of memory.
We may, in the second place, merely delay upon those
thoughts which we already hold possession of; and re-
volve them in our minds, until, aided by some principle
of association, we are able to lay hold of the particular
ideas for which we were searching. Thus, when we en-
deavour to recite what we had previously committed to
memory, but are at a loss for a particular passage, we
repeat a number of times the concluding words of the
preceding sentence. In this way the sentence which was
forgotten is very frequently recalled.
§ 253. Instance illustrative of the preceding.
The subject of the preceding section will perhaps be
more distinctly understood in connexion with the follow-
ing illustration. Dr. Beattie informs us, that he was him-
self acquainted with a clergyman, who, on being attacked
with a fit of apoplexy, was found to have forgotten all
the transactions of the four years immediately preceding
320
MEMORY.
the attack. And yet he remembered as well as ever what
had happened before that period. The newspapers which
were printed during the period mentioned were read with
interest, and afforded him a great deal of amusement,
being entirely new to him. It is further stated, that this
individual recovered by degrees all he had lost; so as,
after a while, to have nearly or quite as full a remembrance
of that period as others. In this instance the power of
the principles of association appears to have been at first
completely prostrated by the disease, without any pros-
pect of their being again brought into action, except by
some assistance afforded them. This assistance, no doubt,
was conversation, the renewed notice of various external
objects addressed to the senses, and reading. By reading
old newspapers, and by conversation in particular, he oc-
casionally fell upon ideas which he had not only been
possessed of before, but which had been associated with
other ideas, forming originally distinct and condensed
trains of thought. And thus whole series were restored.
-Other series, again, were recovered by applying the
methods of INTENTIONAL RECOLLECTION; that is, by forming
suppositions and comparing them with the ideas already
recovered, or by voluntarily delaying upon and revolving
in mind such trains as were restored, and thus rousing up
others. Such we can hardly doubt to have been, in the
main, the process by which the person of whom we are
speaking recovered the knowledge he had lost.
These views, in addition to what has now been said,
may be illustrated also by what we sometimes observe in
old men. Question them as to the events of early life,
and at times they will be unable to give any answer what-
ever. But, whenever you mention some prominent inci-
dent of their young days, or perhaps some friend on whom
many associations have gathered, it will often be found
that their memory revives, and that they are able to state
many things, in respect to which they were previously
silent.
§ 254. Remarks on the memory of the aged.
In noticing the interesting aspects which the memory
presents to our consideration, it may be proper to delay a
MEMORY.
321
moment on the memory of the aged. And here the lead-
ing remark is, that a weakness of memory, a slowness and
inability of recollection, exists in such persons. This
weakness of remembrance, which is so frequently observ-
ed in men of advanced age, appears to be owing to two
causes, viz., the impaired state of the organs of percep-
tion, and a defect of attention.
(1.) Their organs of external perception are impaired.
—We find it difficult, in consequence of the failure of
their sense of hearing, to converse with people advanced
in years, and it requires a great effort, both on our part
and theirs, to make them understand what we say. The
most conclusive arguments, and flashes of wit, and rich
strains of music, have in a great measure ceased to attract
their notice. There is a like failure of the sense of see-
ing also. They no longer take pleasure in the delightful
aspects of creation. The waving forest, the blooming
field, the gay beams of the sun, all the charming varieties
and aspects of nature, although they have not ceased to
have charms for others, have but little or none for them.
The natural and necessary consequence of this state of
things is, that the ideas, which are let in by the senses,
make but a very feeble impression, and are almost im-
mediately erased from the mind.
(2.) The second cause of the weakness of memory, of
which old people complain, is a defect in attention.—
That mental state to which we give the name of Atten-
tion, always implies, in a greater or less degree, an emo-
tion of interest; and, without some feeling of this kind, it
does not well appear how it could exist. But the world
(including in the term what is beautiful in nature, and
what is important in the duties and callings of life) has
at last ceased to excite the emotions which it formerly
awakened. The aged are like the prisoner, released in
the period of the French revolution from the Bastile;
they find themselves, as it were, in a new creation, which
passes before them with great indistinctness, and with
which they feel but little sympathy. As their organs of
external perception have failed them, and as there has
also been a defect of attention, the memory, as a natural
consequence, has become broken and powerless.
322
MEMORY.
It should, however, be remarked here, that, notwith-
standing what has been said, aged people often recall,
with great readiness and precision, the feelings and the
incidents of their youth. The explanation of this stri-
king trait in the memory of the aged, which we have al-
ready had occasion to notice in one of the chapters on-
Association, seems to be this.-As a general statement,
our early feelings and associations are the strongest.
That they should be so is not strange, since we have
then entered on a state of things which, in its essential
features, is new, and which, in all its diversities of duty,
and pleasure, and danger, attracts and excites us by con-
tinual novelty. Who can forget the plains where he
wandered in early life? Who can erase from his recol-
lection the associates of those days of wonder, activity,
and hope? Who can obliterate from his heart his youth-
ful toils, his sufferings, and his joys?-These things re-
main, while others vanish. Such feelings, so deeply fixed
in the mind, and bound together and made permanent by
the strength of a mutual association, are frequently re-
called; they recur to the soul in the activity and bustle
of life, and in those more favoured moments when it is
given up to silent and solemn meditations. The effect
of this frequent recurrence can easily be imagined. The
early impressions which are the subjects of such recur-
rence, become in time, if one may be allowed the ex-
pression, a part of the mind itself; they seem to be wo-
ven into its existence. Hence old men, who have no
eye and no hearing for the events that are passing around
them, repeat, with the greatest animation, the stories of
scenes, and actions, and friendships of fifty years ago.
-
§ 255. On the compatibility of strong memory and good judgment.
It has sometimes been a question of considerable in-
terest, whether the possession of a remarkably strong
memory is not inconsistent with entire soundness of judg-
ment. This question has perhaps been suggested by the
fact that, in some instances, idiots and other persons not
much above the condition of idiocy have been remarkable
for memory."I knew a fool," says a recent writer,
"who was placed under the charge of a clergyman in
MEMORY.
323
the country, as being utterly incapable of conducting
himself in ordinary matters (he was a young man of for-
tune, and did not need to work, except for his amuse-
ment), and yet he could repeat every word of the clergy-
man's sermon, tell how many people were in the church,
how any one that sat in a pew named to him was dress-
ed, and who did or did not contribute to the poor. He
could do that for any Sunday if you gave him any hint
of it; last week or last year was all the same to him.
His memory was, in short, as perfect as memory could
be; but then he had no judgment in the using of it; and
so, when in company, it often made him seem, and not
unfrequently made other people feel, very ridiculous.”*
Throwing out of the question cases of original malfor-
mation, such as idiocies, which properly have no place
in it, it may be said without any hesitation that the con-
nexion between a strong memory and a weak judgment
is not necessary, but merely accidental; that is, is not
the constitution of nature, but, in general, the result of
circumstances. As it is an accidental state of things, and
not anything essential and permanent in our mental
structure, we must look for its appropriate cause in erro-
neous mental discipline.-It may well be supposed that
those who possess strong memories are not insensible of
their superiority in this respect; and the approbation
which they have received in consequence of it, encour-
ages them to treasure up a dry collection of all facts
which will in any way bear repetition. Dates, names,
genealogies, places, local incidents, traditional anecdotes,
are all seized and retained with peculiar avidity. But
too much intent upon outward incidents, the mere dates,
names, and forms of things, such persons fail to inquire
into their true nature; they neglect other and more im-
portant forms of mental discipline, and thus justly sus-
tain the reputation of possessing a showy rather than
discriminating and sound knowledge. In instances of
this description, the relations by which the suggested
trains of thought are associated are the more slight and
obvious ones, such as of time and place. But there are
some exceptions to this unwise course; individuals may
* Mudie's Popular Guide, sect. i.
324
MEMORY.
be found, who, with an astonishing ability to recall the
most unimportant incidents of daily occurrence, as well
as the dry details of historical facts, combine the far
more enviable ability of discriminating the true differ-
ences of things, of combining means for the attainment
of ends, and of rightly estimating evidence in its various
applications; traits of mind which are certainly to be in-
cluded among the characteristics of sound judgment.
§ 256. Marks of a good memory.
The great purpose to which the faculty of memory is
subservient, is to enable us to retain the knowledge
which we have from our experiences for future use.
The prominent marks of a good memory, therefore, are
these two, viz., tenacity in retaining ideas, and readiness
in bringing them forward on necessary occasions.
:
FIRST of tenacity or power of retaining ideas.-The
impressions which are made on some minds are durable.
They are like channels worn away in stone, and names
engraven in monumental marble, which defy the opera-
tion of the ordinary causes of decay, and withstand even
the defacing touch of time. But other memories, which
at first seemed to grasp as much, are destitute of this
power of retention. The inscriptions made upon them
are like characters written on the sand, which the first
breath of wind covers over, or like figures on a bank of
snow, which the sun shines upon and melts. The infe-
riority of the latter description of memory to the former
must be obvious; so much so as to require no comment.
A memory whose power of retaining is greatly dimin-
ished, of course loses a great part of its value.
SECOND: of readiness or facility in bringing forward
what is remembered.-Some persons who cannot be sup-
posed to be deficient in tenacity of remembrance, ap-
pear to fail in a confident and prompt command of what
they remember. Some mistake has been committed in
the arrangement of their knowledge; there has been
some defect in the mental discipline; or for some other
cause, whatever it may be, they often discover perplexi-
ty, and remember slowly and indistinctly. This is a
MEMORY.
325
great practical evil, which not only ought to be, but
which can, in a great degree, be guarded against.
It is true that so great readiness of memory cannot
rationally be expected in men of philosophic minds as
others; for the reason that they pay but little or no at-
tention to particular facts, except for the purpose of de-
ducing from them general principles. But it is no less
true, that when this want of readiness is such as to cause
a considerable degree of perplexity, it must be regarded
a great mental defect. And, for the same reason, a
prompt command of knowledge is to be regarded a men-
tal excellence.
§ 257. Directions or rules for the improvement of the memory.
In whatever point of view the memory may be con-
templated, it must be admitted that it is a faculty always
securing to us inestimable benefits. For the purpose of
securing the most efficient action of this valuable faculty,
and particularly that tenacity and readiness which have
been spoken of, the following directions may be found
worthy of attention.
66
(1.) Never be satisfied with a partial or half acquaint-
ance with things.-There is no less a tendency to intellect-
ual than to bodily inactivity; students, in order to avoid
intellectual toil, are too much inclined to pass on in a
hurried and careless manner. This is injurious to the
memory. Nothing," says Dugald Stewart, “has such
a tendency to weaken, not only the powers of invention,
but the intellectual powers in general, as a habit of ex-
tensive and various reading without reflection." Always
make it a rule fully to understand what is gone over.
Those who are determined to grapple with the subject in
hand, whatever may be its nature, and to become master
of it, soon feel a great interest; truths which were at
first obscure, become clear and familiar. The conse-
quence of this increased clearness and interest is an in-
crease of attention; and the natural result of this is,
that the truths are very strongly fixed in the memory.
(II.) We are to refer our knowledge as much as pos-
sible to general principles. To refer our knowledge to
general principles is to classify it; and this is perhaps
VOL. I.-EE

326
MEMORY.
the best mode of classification. If a lawyer or merchant
were to throw all their papers together promiscuously,
they could not calculate on much readiness in finding
what they might at any time want. If a man of letters
were to record in a commonplace book all the ideas and
facts which occurred to him, without any method, he
would experience the greatest difficulty in applying them
to use. It is the same with a memory where there is no
classification. Whoever fixes upon some general principle,
whether political, literary, or philosophical, and collects
facts in illustration of it, will find no difficulty in remem-
bering them, however numerous; when, without such
general principles, the recollection of them would have
been extremely burdensome.
(III.) Consider the nature of the study, and make
use of those helps which are thus afforded.-This rule
may be illustrated by the mention of some departments
of science. Thus, in acquiring a knowledge of geog-
raphy, the study is to be pursued, as much as possible,
with the aid of good globes, charts, and maps. It re-
quires a great effort of memory, and generally an unsuc-
cessful one, to recollect the relative extent and situation
of places, the numerous physical and political divisions
of the earth, from the book. The advantages of study-
ing geography with maps, globes, &c., are two. (1.)
The form, relative situation, and extent of countries be-
come in this case ideas, or, rather, conceptions of sight;
such conceptions (§ 115) are very vivid, and are more
easily recalled to remembrance than others.
(2.) Our remembrances are assisted by the law of
contiguity in place (§ 223), which is known to be one
of the most efficient aids. When we have once, from
having a map or globe before us, formed an acquaint-
ance with the general visible appearance of an isl-
land, a gulf, an ocean, or a continent, nothing is more
easy than to remember the subordinate divisions or parts.
Whenever we have examined and fixed in our minds the
general appearance or outlines of a particular country,
we do not easily forget the situation of those countries
which are contiguous.
We find another illustration of this rule in the reading
✓
MEMORY.
327
of history.-There is such a multitude of facts in histor-
ical writings, that to endeavour to remember them all is
fruitless; and if it could be done, would be of very small
advantage. Hence, in reading the history of any coun-
try, fix upon two or three of the most interesting epochs;
make them the subject of particular attention; learn the
spirit of the age, and the private life and fortunes of
prominent individuals; in a word, study these periods
not only as annalists, but as philosophers. When they
are thus studied, the mind can hardly fail to retain them;
they will be a sort of landmarks; and all the other
events in the history of the country, before and after-
ward, will naturally arrange themselves in reference to
them. The memory will strongly seize the prominent
periods, in consequence of the great interest felt in them;
and the less important parts of the history of the country
will be likely to be retained, so far as is necessary, by
the aid of the principle of contiguity, and without giving
them great attention. Further, historical charts or gene-
alogical trees of history are of some assistance for a sim-
ilar reason, that maps, globes, &c., are in geography.
This rule for strengthening the memory will apply also
to the more abstract sciences. "In every science," says
Stewart (Elements, ch. vi., § 3), "the ideas, about which
it is peculiarly conversant, are connected together by
some associating principle; in one science, for instance,
by associations founded on the relation of cause and ef-
fect; in another, by the associations founded on the ne-
cessary relations of mathematical truths."
S
§ 258. Further directions for the improvement of the memory.
(IV.) The order in which things are laid up in the
memory should be the order of nature.—In nature every-
thing has its appropriate place, connexions, and relations.
Nothing is insulated, and wholly cut off, as it were, from
everything else; but whatever exists or takes place falls
naturally into its allotted position within the great sphere
of creation and events. Hence the rule, that knowledge,
as far forth as possible, should exist mentally or subjec-
tively in the same order as the corresponding objective
reality exists. The laws of the mind will be found in
328
MEMORY.
their ope ation to act in harmony with the laws of exter-
nal nature. They are, in some sense, the counterparts of
each other. We might illustrate the benefits of the ap-
plication of this rule by referring to almost any well-di-
gested scientific article, historical narration, poem, &c.
But perhaps its full import will be more readily under-
stood by an instance of its utter violation.
A person was one day boasting, in the presence of
Foote the comedian, of the wonderful facility with which
he could commit anything to memory, when the modern
Aristophanes said he would write down a dozen lines in
prose which he could not commit to memory in as many
minutes. The man of great memory accepted the chal-
lenge; a wager was laid, and Foote produced the fol-
lowing.- "So she went into the garden to cut a cab-
bage-leaf to make an apple pie; and at the same time
a great she-bear coming up the street, pops its head into
the shop. What, no soap? So he died, and she very
imprudently married the barber; and there were present
the Piciniunies, and the Joblillies, and the Garyulies, and
the grand Panjandrum himself, with the little round but-
ton at the top; and they all fell to playing catch as
catch can, till the gunpowder ran out of the heels of
their boots."-The story adds that Foote won the wager.
And it is very evident that statements of this description,
utterly disregarding the order of nature and events, must
defy, if carried to any great length, the strongest memory.
(V.) The memory may be strengthened by exercise.-
Our minds, when left to sloth and inactivity, lose their
vigour; but when they are kept in exercise, and, after
performing what was before them, are tasked with new
requisitions, it is not easy to assign limits to their ability.
This seems to be a general and ultimate law of our na-
ture. It is applicable equally to every original suscepti-
bility, and to every combination of mental action. In re-
peated instances we have had occasion to refer to its re-
sults, both on the body and the mind. The power of
perception is found to acquire strength and acuteness by
exercise. There are habits of conception and of associ-
ation, as well as of perception; and we shall be able to
detect the existence and operation of the same great
MEMORY.
329
principle, when we come to speak of reasoning, imagi-
nation, &c. As this principle applies equally to the
memory, we are able to secure its beneficial results by
practising that repetition or exercise on which they are
founded.
§ 259. Of observance of the truth in connexion with memory.
Another help to the memory, which has seldom been
noticed, and certainly not so much as its importance de-
mands, is the conscientious and strict observance of the
truth.—It will be found, on inquiry, that those who are
scrupulous in this respect will be more prompt and exact
in their recollections, within the sphere of what they un-
dertake to remember, than others. A man of this de-
scription may possibly not remember so much as others;
for the same conscientiousness which is the basis of his
veracity, would instinctively teach him to reject from his
intellectual storehouse a great deal of worthless trash.
But within the limits which, for good reasons, undoubted-
ly, he sets to his recollections, he will be much more exact,
much more to be relied on, provided there is no original
or constitutional ground of difference. It has been sug-
gested in regard to Dr. Johnson, that his rigid attention
to veracity, his conscientious determination to be exact in
his statements, was the reason, in a considerable degree,
that his memory was so remarkably tenacious and mi-
nute. And the suggestion is based in sound philosophy.
If a man's deep and conscientious regard for the truth
be such that he cannot, consistently with the requisitions
of his moral nature, repeat to others mere vaguenesses
and uncertainties, he will naturally give such strict and
serious attention to the present objects of inquiry and
knowledge, that they will remain in his memory after-
ward with remarkable distinctness and permanency.
§ 260. Of committing to writing as a means of aiding memory.
Among other means of aiding the memory, it is often
recommended to commit to writing the knowledge which
we acquire. This practice, if not carried too far, so as
greatly to supersede the direct exercise of the memory, is
attended with certain advantages, which justify an occa-
EE 2
330
MEMORY.
↑
sional resorting to it.—(1.) Often, in the course of a per-
son's opportunities of reading and of intercourse with
the world, he becomes acquainted with facts with which
he is unwilling to burden his memory, and which he is
equally unwilling to lose. Here it is proper to resort to
this method, which at the same time leaves the memory
free for other subjects, and retains what may be found at
some future period important.-(2.) In the progress of a
person's experience and investigations, he arrives at cer-
tain important conclusions; for in literature, and in the
departments of science, and in the philosophy of human
conduct, there are certain principles to be ascertained,
which hold a first rank, and exert their influence on all
collateral inquiries. The means or process by which he
arrived at them is permitted to fade away from the mind,
because he has no desire to remember it. But it may
often be found desirable to call in the aid of writing, in
order to prevent the possibility of a like result with those
important principles which he has established with no
small labour. These occasional records will not only se-
cure the great truths he has gained, but will furnish
landmarks of the gradual developement of the mind, and
profitable intimations concerning the laws by which it is
governed.

§ 261. Of mnemonics or systems of artificial memory.
We shall conclude these suggestions on the subject of
aiding and improving the memory, by a remark or two
on the method or system of MNEMONICS. By a system of
mnemonics or of artificial memory is meant a method
of connecting in the mind things difficult to be remem-
bered with things easily remembered, so as to enable it
to retain and recollect the former by means of the latter."
-The things easy to be remembered are short and simple
verses, or the walls and compartments of a room, or gro-
tesque pictures, and the like. Important facts are to be
connected with these, in the expectation that the former
will be remembered because the latter are.
BON
It is no doubt possible to give a temporary aid to the
memory by such arbitrary arrangements; by associating
our ideas with a set of sounds, places, and images. Such
DURATION OF MEMORY.
331
assistance may occasionally be of some advantage to
public speakers, and to persons who are called to remem-
ber a large number of insulated facts. But there is rea-
son to fear that the benefit is more than counterbalanced
by burdening and distracting the memory with what is
allowedly frivolous and perhaps ridiculous. However
this may be, it is generally admitted to be the fact, that
those systems that are proposed for use at the present
time are too complicated for plans which profess to ren-
der the acquisition of knowledge more easy. They can
never be adopted into general use unless they are ren-
dered more simple; nor do we apprehend that a person
who follows the rules for strengthening and applying
the memory, which have been laid down in this chapter,
will stand greatly in need of any other helps in recol-
lecting most things that will be useful and important.
CHAPTER IX.
DURATION OF MEMORY.
§ 262. Restoration of thoughts and feelings supposed to be forgotten.
BEFORE quitting the subject of Memory, there is an-
other point of view, not wholly wanting in interest, in
which it is susceptible of being considered; and that is
the permanency or duration of its power to call up its
past experiences. It is said to have been an opinion of
Lord Bacon, that no thoughts are lost, that they continue
virtually to exist, and that the soul possesses within itself
laws which, whenever fully brought into action, will be
found capable of producing the prompt and perfect res-
toration of the collected acts and feelings of its whole
past existence.
This opinion, which other able writers have fallen in
with, is clearly worthy of examination, especially when
we consider that it has a practical bearing, and involves
important moral and religious consequences. Some one
will perhaps inquire, is it possible, is it in the nature of
332
DURATION OF MEMORY.
things, that we should be able to recall the million of lit-
tle acts and feelings which have transpired in the whole
course of our lives? Let such an inquirer be induced to
consider, in the first place, that the memory has its fixed
laws, in virtue of which the mental exercises are recall-
ed; and that there can be found no direct and satisfac-
tory proof of such laws ever wholly ceasing to exist.
That the operation of those laws appears to be weaken-
ed, and is in fact weakened, by lapse of time, is admit-
ted; but while the frequency, promptness, and strength
of their action may be diminished in any assignable de-
gree, the laws themselves yet remain. This is the view
of the subject which at first obviously and plainly pre-
sents itself; and, we may venture to add, is recommended
by common experience.
It is known to every one that thoughts and feelings
sometimes unexpectedly recur which had slumbered in
forgetfulness for years. Days, and months, and years
have rolled on; new scenes and situations occupy us;
and all we felt, and saw, and experienced in those former
days and years appears to be clothed in impenetrable
darkness. But suddenly some unexpected event, the
sight of a waterfall, of a forest, of a house, a peculiarly
pleasant or gloomy day, a mere change of countenance,
a word, almost anything we can imagine, arouses the
soul, and gives a new and vigorous turn to its meditations.
At such a moment we are astonished at the novel revela-
tions which are made, the recollections which are called
forth, the resurrections of withered hopes and perished
sorrows, of scenes and companionships, that seemed to be
utterly lost.
"Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain,
Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain.
Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise!
Each stamps its image as the other flies."
This is, perhaps, a faint exhibition of that perfect res-
toration of thought which Bacon and other philosophic
minds have supposed to be possible. But, if the state-
ment be correct, it is undoubtedly one circumstance
among others in support of that sentiment, although of
subordinate weight.
DURATION OF MEMORY.
333
§ 263. Mental action quickened by influence on the physical system.
The ability of the mind to restore its past experiences
depends in some degree on the state of the physical
system. It is well known that there is a connexion ex-
isting between the mind and the body, and that a recip-
rocal influence is exercised. It is undoubtedly true that
the mental action is ordinarily increased or diminished,
according as the body is more or less affected. And
may not the exercise of the laws of memory be quicken-
ed, as well as the action of other powers? While it is
admitted that an influence on the body exerts an influ-
ence on the mind, may it not be true that this general in-
fluence sometimes takes the particular shape of exciting
the recollection, and of restoring long-past events?
GRA
There are various facts, having a bearing on this in-
quiry, and which seem to show that such suggestions are
not wholly destitute of foundation.-It appears, for in-
stance, from the statements of persons who have been on
the point of drowning, but have been rescued from that
situation, that the operations of their minds were pecu-
liarly quickened. In this wonderful activity of the men-
tal principle, the whole past life, with its thousand mi-
nute incidents, has almost simultaneously passed before
them, and been viewed as in a mirror. Scenes and situ-
ations long gone by, and associates not seen for years,
and perhaps buried and dissolved in the grave, came
rushing in upon the field of intellectual vision, in all the
activity and distinctness of real existence.
If such be the general experience in cases of this kind,
it confirms a number of important views; placing beyond
doubt that there is a connexion between the mind and
body; that the mental operation is susceptible of being
quickened; and that such increase of action may be at-
tributable, in part at least, to an influence on the body.
The proximate cause of the great acceleration of the
intellectual acts, in cases of drowning, appears to be (as
will be found to be the fact in many other similar cases)
an affection of the brain. That is to say, in consequence
of the suspension of respiration, the blood is prevented
from readily circulating through the lungs, and hence be-
comes accumulated in the brain. It would seem that the
334
DURATION OF MEMORY.
blood is never thrown into the brain in unusual quanti-
ties without being attended with unusual mental affec-
tions.
◊ 264. Other instances of quickened mental action and of a restoration
of thoughts.
The doctrine which has been proposed, that the mental
action may be quickened, and that there may be a restora-
tion or remembrance of all former thoughts and feelings,
is undoubtedly to be received or rejected in view of facts.
The only question in this case, as in others, is, What is
truth? And how are we to arrive at the truth?
If the facts which have been referred to be not enough
to enable one to form an opinion, there are others of a
like tendency and in a less uncertain form. A powerful
disease, while at some times it prostrates the mind, at
others imparts to it a more intense action. The following
passage from a recent work (although the cause of the
mental excitement, in the instance mentioned in it, is not
stated) may properly be appealed to in this connexion.
"Past feelings, even should they be those of our ear-
liest moments of infancy, never cease to be under the in-
fluence of the law of association, and they are constant-
ly liable to be renovated, even to the latest period of life,
although they may be in so faint a state as not to be the
object of consciousness.
It is evident, then, that a cause of mental excitement
may so act upon a sequence of extremely faint feelings,
as to render ideas, of which the mind had long been pre-
viously unconscious, vivid objects of consciousness. Thus
it is recorded of a female in France, that while she was
subjected to such an influence, the memory of the Armor-
ican language, which she had lost since she was a child,
suddenly returned."*
§ 265. Effect on the memory of a severe attack of fever.
We may add here the following account of the mental
affections of an intelligent American traveller. He was
travelling in the State of Illinois, and suffered the com-
mon lot of visitants from other climates, in being taken
* Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions, pt. iv., ch. v.
DURATION OF MEMORY.
335
down with a bilious fever." As very few live," he re-
marks, "to record the issue of a sickness like mine, and
as you have requested me, and as I have promised to be
particular, I will relate some of the circumstances of this
disease. And it is in my view desirable, in the bitter
agony of such diseases, that more of the symptoms, sen-
sations, and sufferings should be recorded than have been;
and that others, in similar predicaments, may know that
some before them have had sufferings like theirs, and
have survived them.
"I had had a fever before, and had risen and been
dressed every day. But in this, with the first day, I was
prostrated to infantile weakness, and felt with its first at-
tack that it was a thing very different from what I had
yet experienced. Paroxysms of derangement occurred
the third day, and this was to me a new state of mind.
That state of disease in which partial derangement is
mixed with a consciousness generally sound, and a sen-
sibility preternaturally excited, I should suppose the
most distressing of all its forms. At the same time that
I was unable to recognise my friends, I was informed
that my memory was more than ordinarily exact and re-
tentive, and that I repeated whole passages in the different
languages which I knew, with entire accuracy. I reci-
ted, without losing or misplacing a word, a passage of
poetry which I could not so repeat after I had recovered
my health," &c.*
§ 266. Approval and illustrations of these views from Coleridge.
An opinion favourable to the doctrine of the durabili-
ty of memory, and the ultimate restoration of thought
and feeling, is expressed in the BIOGRAPHIA LITERARIA of
Coleridge, in an article on the Laws of Association. In
confirmation of it, the writer introduces a statement of
certain facts which became known to him in a tour in
Germany in 1798, to the following effect.
In a Catholic town of Germany, a young woman of
four or five-and-twenty, who could neither read nor write,
was seized with a nervous fever, during which she was
incessantly talking Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, with much
* Flint's Recollections of the Valley of the Mississippi, Letter xiv.
336
DURATION OF MEMORY.
pomp and distinctness of enunciation. The case attract-
ed much attention, and many sentences which she utter-
ed, being taken down by some learned persons present,
were found to be coherent and intelligible, each for it-
self, but with little or no connexion with each other. Of
the Hebrew only a small portion could be traced to the
Bible; the remainder was that form of Hebrew which is
usually called Rabbinic. Ignorant, and simple, and
harmless as this young woman was known to be, no one
suspected any deception; and no explanation could for
a long time be given, although inquiries were made for
that purpose in different families where she had resided
as a servant.
Through the zeal, however, and philosophical spirit of
a young physician, all the necessary information was in
the end obtained. The woman was of poor parents, and
at nine years of age had been kindly taken to be brought
up by an old Protestant minister, who lived at some dis-
tance. He was a very learned man, being not only a
great Hebraist, but acquainted also with Rabbinical wri-
tings, the Greek and Latin Fathers, &c. The passages
which had been taken down in the delirious ravings of
the young woman were found by the physician precisely
to agree with passages in some books of those languages
which had formerly belonged to him. But these facts
were not a full explanation of the case. It appeared on
further inquiry, that the patriarchal Protestant had been
in the habit for many years of walking up and down a
passage of his house, into which the kitchen door open-
ed, and to read to himself with a loud voice out of his
favourite books. This attracted the notice of the poor
and ignorant domestic whom he had taken into his fam-
ily; the passages made an impression on her memory;
and although probably for a long time beyond the reach
of her recollection when in health, they were at last viv-
idly restored, and were uttered in the way above men-
tioned, in consequence of the feverish state of the phys-
ical system, particularly of the brain.
From this instance, and from several others of the same
kind which Mr. Coleridge asserts can be brought up, he
is inclined to educe the following positions or inferences.
DURATION OF MEMORY.
337
.
(1.) Our thoughts may, for an indefinite time, exist in
the same order in which they existed originally, and in a
latent or imperceptible state.-(2.) As a feverish state of
the brain (and, of course, any other peculiarity in the bod-
ily condition) cannot create thought itself, nor make any
approximation to it, but can only operate as an excite-
ment or quickener to the intellectual principle, it is there-
fore probable that all thoughts are in themselves im-
perishable.-(3.) In order greatly to increase the power
of the intellect, he supposes it would require only a dif-
ferent organization of its material accompaniment.-(4.)
And, therefore, he concludes the book of final judgment,
which, the Scriptures inform us, will at the last day be
presented before the individuals of the human race, may
be no other than the investment of the soul with a celes-
tial instead of a terrestrial body; and that this may be
sufficient to restore the perfect record of the multitude of
its past experiences. He supposes it may be altogether
consistent with the nature of a living spirit, that heaven
and earth should sooner pass away, than that a single
act or thought should be loosened and effectually struck
off from the great chain of its operations. In giving
these conclusions, the exact language of the writer has
not been followed, but the statement made will be found
to give what clearly seems to have been his meaning.
§ 267. Application of the principles of this chapter to education.
Whether the considerations which have been brought
forward lead satisfactorily to the conclusion of the dura-
tion of memory and of the possible restoration of all men-
tal exercises, must of course be submitted to each one's
private judgment. But on the supposition that they do,
it must occur to every one that certain practical applica-
tions closely connect themselves with this subject.-The
principle in question has, among other things, a bearing
on the education of the young, furnishing a new reason
for the utmost circumspection in conducting it. The
term EDUCATION, in application to the human mind, is
very extensive; it includes the example and advice of
parents, and the influence of associates, as well as more
direct and formal instruction. Now, if the doctrine under
VOL. I.-F F
r
338
DURATION OF MEMORY.
consideration be true, it follows, that a single remark of
a profligate and injurious tendency, made by a parent or
some other person in the presence of a child, though for-
gotten and neglected at the time, may be suddenly and
vividly recalled some twenty, thirty, or even forty years
after. It may be restored to the mind by a multitude of
unforeseen circumstances, and even those of the most tri-
fling kind; and even at the late period when the voice
that uttered it is silent in the grave, may exert a most
pernicious influence. It may lead to unkindness; it may
be seized and cherished as a justification of secret moral
and religious delinquencies; it may prompt to a violation
of public laws, and in a multitude of ways conduct to
sin, to ignominy, and wretchedness. Great care, there-
fore, ought to be taken not to utter unadvised, false, and
evil sentiments in the hearing of the young, in the vain
expectation that they will do no hurt, because they will
be speedily and irrecoverably lost.
And for the same reason, great care and pains should
be taken to introduce truth into the mind, and all correct
moral and religious principles. Suitably impress on the
mind of a child the existence of a God and his parental
authority; teach the pure and benevolent outlines of the
Redeemer's character, and the great truths and hopes of
the Gospel; and these instructions form essential links
in the grand chain of memory, which no change of cir-
cumstances, nor lapse of time, nor combination of power
can ever wholly strike out. They have their place as-
signed them; and, though they may be concealed, they
cannot be obliterated. They may perhaps cease to ex-
ercise their appropriate influence, and not be recalled for
years; the pressure of the business and of the cares of
life may have driven them out from every prominent po-
sition, and buried them for a time. But the period of
their resurrection is always at hand, although it may
not be possible for the limited knowledge of man to de-
tect the signs of it. Perhaps, in the hour of temptation
to crime, they come forth like forms and voices from the
dead, and with more than their original freshness and
power; perhaps, in the hour of misfortune, in the prison-
house, or in the land of banishment, they pay their visit-
-
DURATION OF MEMORY.
339
ations, and impart a consolation which nothing else
could have supplied; they come with the angel tones of
parental reproof and love, and preserve the purity, and
check the despondency of the soul.
§ 268. Connexion of this doctrine with the final judgment and a future
life.
There remains one remark more of a practical nature
to be made.-The views which have been proposed in re-
spect to the ultimate restoration of all mental experi-
ences, may be regarded as in accordance with the Di-
vine Word. It may be safely affirmed, that no mental
principle, which, on a fair interpretation, is laid down in
that sacred book, will be found to be at variance with
the common experience of mankind. The doctrine of
the Bible, in respect to a future judgment, may well be
supposed to involve considerations relative to man's in-
tellectual and moral condition. In various
In various passages, the
Scriptures plainly and explicitly teach that the Saviour
in the last day shall judge the world, and that all shall
be judged according to the deeds done in the body,
whether they be good or whether they be evil. But an
objection has sometimes been raised of this sort, that we
can never feel the justice of that decision without a
knowledge of our whole past life, on which it is found-
ed, and that this is impossible. It was probably this ob-
jection that Mr. Coleridge had in view when he proposed
the opinion, that the clothing of the soul with a celestial
instead of a terrestrial body would be sufficient to restore
the perfect record of its past experiences.
In reference to this objection to the scriptural doctrine
of a final judgment, the remark naturally presents itself,
that it seems to derive its plausibility chiefly from an im-
perfect view of the constitution of the human mind. It
is thought that we cannot be conscious of our whole past
life, because it is utterly forgotten, and is, therefore,
wholly irrecoverable. But the truth seems to be, that no-
thing is wholly forgotten; the probability that we shall
be able to recall our past thoughts may be greatly di-
minished, but it does not become wholly extinct. The
power of reminiscence slumbers, but does not die. At
•
340
REASONING.
!
the Judgment-day we are entirely at liberty to suppose,
from what we know of the mind, that it will awake, that
it will summon up thought and feeling from its hidden re-
cesses, and will clearly present before us the perfect form
and representation of the past.
"Each fainter trace, that memory holds
So darkly of departed years,
In one broad glance the soul beholds,
And all that was at once appears."
CHAPTER X.
REASONING.
§ 269. Reasoning a source of ideas and knowledge.
LEAVING the consideration of the memory, we are next
to examine the power of Reasoning; a subject of inqui-
ry abundantly interesting in itself, and also in conse-
quence of its being one of the leading and fruitful sources
of Internal knowledge. For our knowledge of the op-
erations of this faculty we are indebted, as was seen in a
former chapter, to Consciousness, which gives us our di-
rect knowledge of all other mental acts. But it will be
remarked, that Reasoning is not identical with, or in-
volved in Consciousness. If consciousness gives us a
knowledge of the act of reasoning, the reasoning power,
operating within its own limits and in its own right,
gives us a knowledge of other things. It is a source of
perceptions and knowledge which we probably could
not possess in any other way.
Without the aid of Original Suggestion, it does not
appear how we could have a knowledge of our exist-
ence; without Consciousness we should not have a
knowledge of our mental operations; without Relative
Suggestion or Judgment, which is also a distinct source
of knowledge, there would be no Reasoning; and, un-
assisted by Reasoning, we could have no knowledge of
the relations of those things which cannot be compared
REASONING.
341
without the aid of intermediate propositions. The rea-
soning power, accordingly, is to be regarded as a new and
distinct fountain of thought, which, as compared with
the other sources of knowledge just mentioned, opens it-
self still further in the recesses of the Internal Intellect;
and as it is later in its developement, so it comes forth
with proportionally greater efficiency. Accordingly, De-
gerando, in his treatise entitled De la Generation des
Connoissances, expressly and very justly remarks, after
having spoken of judgment or Relative Suggestion as a
distinct source of knowledge, "The Reasoning faculty
also serves to enrich us with ideas; for there are many
relations so complicated or remote, that one act of judg-
ment is not sufficient to discover them. A series of judg-
ments or process of reasoning is therefore necessary.".
But we would not be understood to limit the results of
reasoning, considered as a distinct source of knowledge,
to a few simple conceptions, such as the discovery, in a
given case, of the mere relation of agreement or disa-
greement. It sustains the higher office of bringing to
light the great principles and hidden truths of nature; it
reveals to the inquisitive and delighted mind a multitude
of fruitful and comprehensive views, which could not
otherwise be obtained; and invests men, and nature, and
events with a new character.

§ 270. Illustrations of the value of the reasoning power.
The suggestions at the close of the last section are
worthy of being considered in some particulars. It may
be remarked, therefore, that the value of the Reasoning
power is particularly observable in two things, viz., in its
flexibility, and in its growth or expansion.
(1.) When we speak of the flexibility of the reasoning
power, we mean to intimate the facility and perfcct fit-
ness with which it can apply itself to the numerous and
almost infinitely varied subjects of our knowledge. This
remark is perhaps susceptible of illustration, by a slight
reference to the instincts of the lower animals. Such in-
stincts, according to the usual understanding of their na-
ture, imply an original and invariable tendency to do cer-
tain things, without previous forethought and delibera-
FF 2
342
REASONING.
F
tion. Accordingly, it has been observed, that a bird
which has always been confined in a cage will build,
when suitable materials are furnished it, a nest precisely
similar to those of its own kind in the woods. It places
with the greatest ingenuity the sticks, leaves, and clay of
its frail dwelling, without going through a long process
of previous training, and without incurring a debt to oth-
ers for their assistance. But the instinct in this and oth-
er analogous cases is limited to its one definite object; it
discovers an utter inflexibility, neither varying the mode
of its action, nor extending its range so as to include oth-
er objects.
But the reasoning faculty, altogether different in this
particular, applies itself to almost everything. It is not
easy to designate and limit the vast number of objects in
nature, in events, and individual conduct, where it fur-
nishes its aid, and secures the most beneficial results. It
is an instrument equally fitted to investigate things that
are most diverse; the mysteries of the mechanical arts,
and the problems of political philosophy; the growth of
a plant or flower, and the obscurities of the human in-
tellect.
(2.) The excellency of the reasoning power is seen
also in its expansion and growth.-Instinct appears to be
full and perfect at the very first opportunity of its exer-
cise; but there are no such restricted bounds to reasoning.
Though weak at first, it is endlessly progressive. It is
seen distinctly at work in the child, that frames his min-
iature house of small sticks and blocks; and in the ar-
chitect, whose scientific views and exquisite labours have
resulted in forming edifices that attract a nation's admi-
ration. It is discovered, in its incipient efforts, in the
regulation of the sports of childhood; but, without chan-
ging the elements of its nature, it gradually enlarges it-
self to the capability of administering the affairs of an
empire.
§ 271. Definition of reasoning, and of propositions.
Reasoning may be defined the mental process or oper-
ation whereby we deduce conclusions from two or more
propositions premised.-A train of reasoning may be re-
REASONING.
343
up
garded, therefore, as a whole; and, as such, it is made
of separate and subordinate parts. These elementary
parts are usually termed PROPOSITIONS; and before we can
proceed with advantage in the further consideration of
reasoning, it is necessary to go into a brief explanation
of them.
A PROPOSITION has been defined to be a verbal repre-
sentation of some perception, act, or affection of the
mind.—Accordingly, when we speak of a Proposition,
we are usually understood to mean some mental percep-
tion or combination of perceptions, expressed and laid
out before us in words. Although such seems to be the
ordinary meaning of the term, we may admit the possi-
bility of propositions existing wholly in the mind with-
out being expressed in words. Mr. Locke expressly
speaks of mental propositions, or those states of mind
where two or more ideas are combined together previous
to their being imbodied and set forth in the forms of lan-
guage.
The parts of the proposition are, (1.) The SUBJECT, or
that concerning which something is either asserted or de-
nied, commanded or inquired; (2.) The PREDICATE, or
that which is asserted, denied, commanded, or inquired
concerning the subject; (3.) The COPULA, by which the
two other parts are connected.-In these two proposi-
tions,
Cæsar was brave,
Men are fallible,
Men and Cæsar are the subjects; fallible and brave are
the predicates; are and was are the copulas.
Propositions have been divided, (1.) Into SIMPLE, or
those whose subject and predicate are composed of sin-
gle words, as in this,
Benevolence is commendable;
(2.) Into COMPLEX, or those where the subject and pred-
icate consist of a number of words, as in this,
Faithfulness in religion is followed by peace of mind;
(3.) Into modal, where the copula is qualified by some
word or words, representing the manner or possibility of
the agreement or discrepance between the subject and
predicate, as in these,
24
344
REASONING.
Men of learning can exert an influence ;
Wars may sometimes be just.
PROPOSITIONS, more or less involved, are necessary parts
in every process of reasoning. They may be compared
to the separate and disjointed blocks of marble, which
are destined to enter into the formation of some edifice;
the completed process of reasoning is the edifice; the
propositions are the materials.
§ 272. Process of the mind in all cases of reasoning.
Leaving the consideration of its subordinate parts or
elements, we are further to consider the general nature
of reasoning: in other words, we are to examine the
character of the complex mental process involved in that
term. The definition given of reasoning, it will be re-
membered, was, That it is the mental process by which
we deduce conclusions from two or more propositions
premised. Hence there will be in every such process a
succession of propositions, never less than two, and often
a much greater number. The propositions often follow
each other with much regularity; and hence, not unfre-
quently, we consider the arrangement of them as entirely
arbitrary. But this is a mistaken supposition. It is true,
when a number of ideas or propositions are presented
nearly at the same time, the mind puts forth a volition,
or exercises choice, in selecting one idea or proposition
in preference to another. But the ideas or propositions
from which the choice is made, and without the presence
of which it could not be made, are not brought into exist-
ence by a direct volition, and, therefore, mere arbitrary
creations, but are suggested by the laws of association.
cases.
As an illustration, we will suppose an argument on the
justice and expediency of capital punishments in ordinary
The disputant first denies in general terms the
right which social combinations have assumed of capital-
ly punishing offences of a slight nature. But, before con-
sidering the cases he has particularly in view, he remarks
on the right of capital punishment for murder; and ad-
mits, we will suppose, that the principle of self-defence
gives such a right. He then takes up the case of steal-
ing, and contends that we have no right to punish the
REASONING.
345
thief with death, because no such right is given by the
laws of nature; for, before the formation of the civil
compact, the institution of property, as a matter of civil
and judicial regulation, was not known. He then con-
siders the nature of civil society, and contends that, in
the formation of the social compact, no such extraordi-
nary power as that of putting to death for stealing, or
other crimes of similar aggravation, could have been im-
plied in that compact, because it never was possessed by
those who formed it, &c.
Here is an argument made up of a number of propo-
sitions, and carried on, as may be supposed, to a very
considerable length. And in this argument, as in all oth-
ers, every proposition is in the first instance suggested
by the laws of association; it is not at all a matter of
arbitrary volition. The disputant first states the inquiry
in general terms; he then considers the particular case
of murder; the crime of theft is next considered; and
this is examined, first, in reference to natural law, and
afterward in reference to civil law.-And this consecu-
tion of propositions takes place in essentially the same
way as when the sight of a stranger in the crowd sug-
gests the image of an old friend, and the friend suggests
the village of his residence, and the village suggests an
ancient ruin in its neighbourhood, and the ruin suggests
warriors and battles of other days.-It is true that other
propositions may have been suggested at the same time,
and the disputant may have had his choice between
them, but this was all the direct voluntary power which
he possessed.
§ 273. Grounds of the selection of propositions.
A number of propositions are presented to the mind by
the principles of association; the person who carries on
the process of reasoning makes his selection among them.
But it is reasonable to inquire, How it happens that there
is such a suitableness or agreement in the propositions, as
they are successively adopted into the train of reasoning?
And this seems to be no other than to inquire into the
circumstances under which the choice of them is made,
or the grounds of the selection.
346
REASONING.
Let it be considered, then, that in all arguments, wheth-
er moral or demonstrative, there is some general subject on
which the evidence is made to bear; there is some point
in particular to be examined. In reference to these gen-
eral outlines, we have a prevailing and permanent desire.
This desire is not only a great help in giving quickness
and strength to the laws of association, but exercises also
a very considerable indirect influence in giving an appro-
priate character to the thoughts which are suggested by
those laws. Hence the great body of the propositions
which are at such times brought up will be found to have
a greater or less reference to the general subject. These
are all very rapidly compared by the mind with those
outlines, in regard to which its feelings of desire are ex-
ercised, or with what we usually term the point to be
proved. Here the mind, in the exercise of that suscepti-
bility of feelings of relation which we have already seen it
to possess, immediately discovers the suitableness or want
of suitableness, the agreement or want of agreement of the
propositions presented to it, to the general subject. This
perception of agreement or disagreement, which is one
of those relative feelings of which the mind is from its
very nature held to be susceptible, exists as an ultimate
fact in our mental constitution. All that can profitably
be said in relation to it is the mere statement of the fact,
and of the circumstances under which it is found to ex-
ist.-Those propositions which are judged by the mind,
in the exercise of that capacity which its Creator has
given it, to possess a congruity or agreement with the
general subject or point to be proved, are permitted by it
to enter in, as continuous parts of the argument. And in
this way a series of propositions rises up, all having ref-
erence to one ultimate purpose, regular, appropriate, and
in their issue laying the foundation of the different de-
grees of assent. This explanation will apply not only to
the supposed argument in the last section, which is an
instance of moral reasoning, but will hold good essen-
tially of all other instances of whatever kind. The dif-
ference in the various kinds of reasoning consists less in
the mental process than in the nature of the subjects com-
pared together, and in the conditions attending them.
REASONING.
347
274. Reasoning implies the existence of antecedent or assumed
propositions.
In attempting to give some explanation of the reason-
ing power, it is to be remarked further, that reasoning,
both in its inception and its prosecution, has this char-
acteristic, that it necessarily proceeds, in a great degree,
upon assumptions. As every deductive process implies a
comparison of propositions, there must, of course, be some
propositions given, by the aid of which the comparison is
prosecuted. There must be something assumed as known,
by means of which to find out what is unknown. Ac-
cordingly, assumed propositions (either those which are
known to be true, or, for the purposes of argument, are re-
garded as such) are always found at the commencement
of the series; and they are also introduced frequently in
its progress, particularly in Moral reasoning. But the
propositions which are assumed are not always express-
ed; especially those which, from the circumstance of
their being representative of elementary convictions of
the understanding, are denominated PRIMARY TRUTHS.
(See chap. i. of the Introduction.)" In every process
of reasoning," says Abercrombie, "we proceed by found-
ing one step upon another which has gone before it; and
when we trace such a process backward, we must arrive
at certain truths which are recognised as fundamental,
requiring no proof and admitting of none."
But when we say that reasoning proceeds upon as-
sumptions, it does not necessarily follow that it proceeds
upon propositions which are unknown or doubtful. The
propositions which are referred to are assumed in refer-
ence to the reasoning power, and not in reference to oth-
er sources of knowledge, which the understanding pos-
sesses besides reasoning. Whatever things are known by
Original Suggestion, whatever are known by Conscious-
ness, or by the direct communication of the Senses, or by
undoubted Memory or Testimony, as they cannot be
made clearer by reasoning, but fully command our belief
of themselves, are at once adopted by reasoning into its
own processes, and employed as helps in eliciting the re-
mote and unperceived truths which it is in search of
But, as has been intimated, this adoption is not always a
C
348
REASONING.
formal and acknowledged one, but often silently, and by
implication. No one would think of formally and re-
peatedly enunciating, as he advances in an argument,
the truth of his own existence or of his personal identity;
and not much more would he think of enunciating that
every effect has its cause, or that nature is uniform in her
operations, or that a combination of means conspiring to
a particular end indicates intelligence; truths which are
so essential and familiar to the human intellect, that we
daily base the most important conclusions upon them,
while at the same time we scarcely think of their exist-
ence.
§ 275. Of reasoning A PRIORI.
There are various methods of conducting ratiocination.
One method of reasoning, for instance, is termed A PRIO-
RI. A PRIORI reasoning is that whereby an effect is
proved from a cause, whether that cause be directly
proximate or be remote. For instance, a nation is pos-
sessed of a well-ordered government and wise rulers.
And we infer, A PRIORI, that justice will be carefully ad-
ministered, and that there will be a high degree of har-
mony, security, and prosperity among the people.
Under the results of this form of reasoning may be
embraced also any conclusion which is ascertained and
proved by something previously existing, whether such
antecedent be a cause in the proper sense of the term,
or possess merely an accidental priority. It embraces
also those cases where, in view of the correspondence
and adaptation of things which we so generally witness
in the universe, we are impelled, by the consideration of
the nature of one thing, to believe in the existence of
something else corresponding to it.—One of the various
arguments which has a bearing on the existence of God
is of this description. It is to this effect. We are so
constituted that we naturally and necessarily form certain
ideas, such as the ideas of space, time, and infinity; and
by the aid of these we frame the additional ideas of un-
limited space and unlimited time, or IMMENSITY and ETER-
NITY. These conceptions are Absolute or Unconditioned.;
in other words, we cannot possibly conceive of the oppo-
REASONING.
349
site; we cannot conceive of a state of things where
time and space are not; so that, in view of the human in-
tellect, there are, and necessarily must be, both an eternity
of duration and illimitability of space; which, however,
we commonly express by the single terms ETERNITY and
IMMENSITY. Nor are we at liberty to suppose that the hu-
man intellect is deceived as to the results involved in the
formation of these conceptions; in other words, we are
not at liberty to suppose that it is led by its very consti-
tution to form conceptions of what does not exist, and to
which there is nothing corresponding. So that we may
regard ourselves as fully and legitimately possessed of
the fact or reality of eternity, and also of immensity or
boundless space. It is obvious that in this way we pos-
sess the knowledge of a state of things which is adapted,
and adapted exclusively, to the nature of God. We nat-
urally inquire, why should there be ETERNITY without an
Eternal Being of whom eternity is predicable? Why
should there be immensity of space without an Omni-
present Being who may occupy it? If there be no God,
but nothing but limited finite beings, then there is, com-
paratively speaking, an infinity of time and of space,
which is unoccupied and unavailable. But, as this is in-
consistent with that harmony and adaptation of things
which we witness in every other case, we are led to infer,
A PRIORI, that there is, and must be, a God.
A PRIORI reasoning is more frequently made use of, than
anywhere else, in the mathematics, and in all cases of
demonstration. The definitions which are given em-
brace general truths, from which other truths are evolved
or brought out by a successive comparison of proposi-
tions. We say, for instance, that a square is a figure,
which has all its sides equal, and all its angles right an-
gles. In this definition there is not only involved equal-
ity of sides, but equality of angles. And it is evident,
that if the definition were altered, and were so restricted
as to exclude the notion of equality of angles, many prop-
erties which are now demonstrated of the square would
be unsusceptible of proof. In other words (and it is the
same of other analogous cases), such properties are de-
VOL. I.—G G
350
REASONING.
duced by an A PRIORI process from the general notions
involved in the definition of a square.
§ 276. Of reasoning A POSTERIORI.
Another method of reasoning is termed A POSTERIORI.
A POSTERIORI reasoning is that by which either a cause is
proved from an effect; or, in more general terms, by
which a conclusion is proved by something posterior in
time, whether it be properly an effect or not. For in-
stance (reversing one of the illustrations in the last sec-
tion), if justice is not properly administered among the
people, and if discord and insecurity prevail, we infer, a
POSTERIORI, that there is a deficiency in the constitution of
the country, or in the rulers, or in both.-It is narrated of
Aristippus the Cyreniac, that he was once shipwrecked
on an unknown coast. As he was there wandering about
on the desert shore, he discovered some geometrical dia-
grams traced in the sand. He immediately called out to
his companions to be of good courage, as he saw the
traces and evidences of human beings. In other words,
reasoning A POSTERIORI, or from effects to causes, and com-
bining with that process the general principle that a
combination of means conspiring to a particular end in-
dicates design, he did not hesitate to infer, from what he
had discovered, that the country either was or had been
inhabited.
The A PRIORI process, as we have already had occasion
to see, is sometimes employed in proving the existence of
God; but still more frequently, and probably to better
effect, the method of reasoning A POSTERIORI. The idea of
God is not simple, but complex; embracing, in particular,
the two great elements of intelligence and power. Ac-
cordingly, in endeavouring to prove his existence from
the works of nature, we assume, on the ground of their
being original and necessary suggestions of the human
intellect, the following propositions: (1.) That there is no
beginning or change of existence without a cause; and,
(2.) That means conspiring to a particular end indicate
design or intelligence. With these two propositions giv-
en, we look at the multiplied works of nature, we con-
template them in their progress, harmony, and results;
REASONING.
351
and thus, reasoning A POSTERIORI, from the consequent to
the antecedent, from the effect to the cause, we infer the
existence of God.
§ 277. Of reasoning A FORTIori.
Another process of ratiocination is denominated rea-
soning A FORTIORI. This consists in deducing a proposi-
tion as true from another known or admitted proposi-
tion, the truth of which is less obvious or less probable.
Hence the application of the term A FORTIORI, which in-
dicates that the conclusion is clearer or stronger. Thus,
if a man who merely robs on the highway is worthy of
death, then, A FORTIORI, the murderer is deserving of the
same punishment. Again, if he who murders his enemy
is worthy of death, still more is he who commits parri-
cide. We have an instance of this species of reasoning
in the passage of the Apostle Paul, where he shows that
the Almighty will not fail to bestow upon good men the
necessaries of life. "He that spared not his own Son,
how shall he not with him freely give us all things." If
he gave us the greater blessing of his Son, A FORTIORI he
will give us such other inferior things as may be neces-
sary for us.
§ 278. Of differences in the power of reasoning.
The faculty of reasoning exists in different individuals
in very different degrees. There is the same diversity
here which is found to exist in respect to every other
mental susceptibility and mental process. In some per-
sons it is not even powerful enough to meet the ordinary
exigences of life, and hardly rescues its possessor from
the imputation of idiocy; in others it elevates human na-
ture, and bestows extraordinary grasp and penetration.
And between the extremes of extraordinary expansion
and marked imbecility, there are multitudes of distinct
grades, almost every possible variety.
This difference depends on various causes.-(1.) It
will depend, in the first place, on the amount of knowl-
edge which the reasoner possesses. No man can perma-
nently sustain the reputation of great ability in argument
without having previously secured a large fund of knowl-
352
REASONING.
edge as its basis. And we may add, that no man can
reason well on any given subject unless he has especially
prepared himself in reference to that subject. All rea-
soning implies a comparison of ideas; or, more properly,
a comparison of propositions, or of facts stated in propo-
sitions. Of course, where there is no knowledge on any
given subject, where there is no accumulation of facts,
there can be no possibility of reasoning; and where the
knowledge is much limited, the plausibility and power of
the argument will be proportionally diminished.
That many persons speak on subjects which are pro-
posed to them without having made any preparation,
cannot be denied; but there is a vast difference between
noisy, incoherent declamation, and a well-wrought argu-
ment, made up of suitable propositions, following each
other with a direct and satisfactory reference to the con-
clusion. In every case of reasoning, the mind passes suc-
cessively along the various topics involved in the argu-
ment; and, in so doing, is governed by the principles of
association, as we have already had occasion to notice.
But what opportunity can there possibly be for the oper-
ation of these principles, when the mind is called to fast-
en itself upon a subject, and to decide upon that sub-
ject, without any knowledge of those circumstances which
may be directly embraced in it, or of its relations and
tendencies ?
(2.) The power of reasoning will depend, in the sec-
ond place, on the power of attention and memory.
There are some persons who seem to have no command
of the ATTENTION. Everything interests them slightly,
and nothing in a high degree. They are animated by
no strong feeling; and enter into no subject, requiring
long-continued and abstract investigation, with a suitable
intensity of ardour. A defective remembrance of the
numerous facts and propositions which come under re-
view, is the natural consequence of this. And this ne-
cessarily implies a perplexed and diminished power of
ratiocination.
(3.) A third ground of difference is diversity in the
susceptibility of feeling relations. The remark has al-
ready been made (§ 215), that facts may be accumula-
REASONING.
353
ted having close and decisive relations to the points to
be proved, but that they can never be so bound together
as to result in any conclusion, without a perception or
feeling of those relations. But it is well known, whatev-
er it may be owing to, that the relations of objects are
much more readily and clearly perceived by some than
by others. As, therefore, every train of reasoning im-
plies a succession or series of relative perceptions, a de-
fect in the power of relative suggestion necessarily im-
plies a defect in the reasoning power. And, on the other
hand, a great quickness and clearness in the perception
of relations is necessarily attended (other things being
equal) with an augmented efficiency of reasoning.
§ 279. Of habits of reasoning.
But, whatever may be the mental traits that render, in
particular cases, the reasoning power more or less effi-
cient, its efficacy will undoubtedly depend in a great de-
gree on Habit. The effect of frequent practice, resulting
in what is termed a HABIT, is often witnessed in those
who follow any mechanic calling, where we find that
what was once done with difficulty comes in time to be
done with great ease and readiness. The muscles of
such persons seem to move with a kind of instinctive fa-
cility and accuracy in the performance of those works to
which they have been for a long time addicted.

There is a similar effect of frequent practice in the in-
crease of quickness and facility in our mental operations;
and certainly as much so in those which are implied in
reasoning as in any others. If, for instance, a person has
never been in the habit of going through geometrical
demonstrations, he finds his mind very slowly and with
difficulty advancing from one step to another; while, on
the other hand, a person who has so often practised this
species of argumentation as to have formed a habit, ad-
vances forward from one part of the train of reasoning to
another with great rapidity and delight. And the result
is the same in any process of moral reasoning. In the
prosecution of any argument of a moral nature, there is
necessarily a mental perception of the congruity of its
several parts, or of the agreement of the succeeding prop-
GG 2
354
REASONING.
osition with that which went before. The degree or
readiness in bringing together propositions, and in put-
ting forth such perceptions, will greatly depend on the
degree of practice.
§ 280. Of reasoning in connexion with language or expression.
Language is the great instrument of reasoning. There
may indeed be a deductive process, which is purely men-
tal; but, in point of fact, this is seldom the case. In the
use of language, it is worthy of notice, that there is often
a want of correspondence between the purely mental
process in reasoning and the outward verbal expression
of it. When persons are called upon to state their ar-
guments suddenly and in public debate, they often com-
mit errors which are at variance with the prevalent opin-
ion of their good sense and mental ability. This is par-
ticularly true of men who are chiefly engaged in the or-
dinary business of life, or are in any situation where
there is a constant call for action. The conclusions at
which such persons arrive may be supposed to be gener-
ally correct, but they frequently find themselves unable
to state clearly and correctly to others the process of rea-
soning by which they arrived at them.-Oliver Crom-
well, the famous English Protector, is said to have been
a person to whom this statement would well apply. The
complicated incidents of his life, and the perplexities of
his situation, and his great success, sufficiently evince that
he possessed a clear insight into events, and was in no
respect deficient in understanding; but when he attempt-
ed to express his opinions in the presence of others, and
to explain himself on questions of policy, he was con-
fused and obscure. His mind readily insinuated itself
into the intricacies of a subject; and while he could as-
sert with confidence that he had arrived at a satisfactory
conclusion, he could not so readily describe either the di-
rection he had taken or the involutions of the journey.-
"All accounts," says Mr. Hume, " agree in ascribing to
Cromwell a tiresome, dark, unintelligible elocution, even
when he had no intention to disguise his meaning; yet
no man's actions were ever, in such a variety of difficult
cases, more decisive and judicious.”
se
REASONING.
355
Such instances are not unfrequent. Mr. Stewart some-
where mentions the case of an English officer, a friend
of Lord Mansfield, who had been appointed to the gov-
ernment of Jamaica. The officer expressed some doubts
of his competency to preside in the court of chancery
Mansfield assured him that he would not find the diffi-
culty so great as he imagined." Trust," said he, "to
your own good sense in forming your opinions, but be-
ware of stating the grounds of your judgments. The
judgments will probably be right, the arguments will in-
fallibly be wrong."
The perplexity which is so often experienced by men
engaged in active life, in giving a prompt and correct
verbal expression to the internal trains of thought, is
probably owing, in part, to a want of practice of that
kind, and in part to certain mental habits, which they
have been led, from their situation, to form and strengthen.
In a thousand emergencies they have been obliged to act
with quickness, and, at the same time, with caution; in
other words, to examine subjects, and to do it with ex-
pedition. In this way they have acquired exceeding
readiness in all their mental acts. The consequence of
this is, that the numerous minute circumstances, involved
more or less in all subjects of difficult inquiry, are passed
in review with such rapidity, and are made in so very
small a degree the objects of separate attention, that
they vanish and are forgotten. Hence these persons, al-
though the conclusion to which they have come be satis-
factory, are unable to state to others all the subordinate
steps in the argument. Everything has once been dis-
tinctly and fairly before their own minds, although with that
great rapidity which is always implied in a HABIT; but
their argument, as stated in words, owing to their inabil-
ity to arrest and imbody all the evanescent processes of
thought, appears to others defective and confused.
356
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
1
CHAPTER XI.
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
§ 281. Of the subjects of demonstrative reasoning.
In the remarks which have hitherto been made, the
subject of reasoning has been taken up in the most gen-
eral point of view. The considerations that have been
proposed are applicable, in the main, to reasoning in all
its forms. But it is necessary, in order to possess a more
full and satisfactory conception of this subject, to exam-
ine it under the two prominent heads of Moral and De-
monstrative.
There are various particulars in which moral and de-
monstrative reasoning differ from each other; the consid-
eration of which will suggest more fully their distinctive
nature. Among other things, DEMONSTRATIVE reasoning
differs from any other species of reasoning in the subjects
about which it is employed. The subjects are abstract
ideas, and the necessary relations among them. Those
ideas or thoughts are called abstract which are repre-
sentative of such qualities and properties in objects as
can be distinctly examined by the mind separate from
other qualities and properties with which they are com-
monly united. And there may be reckoned, as coming
within this class of subjects, the properties of numbers
and of geometrical figures; also extension, duration,
weight, velocity, forces, &c., so far as they are suscepti-
ble of being accurately expressed by numbers or other
mathematical signs. But the subjects of moral reason-
ing, upon which we are to remark hereafter more partic-
ularly, are matters of fact, including their connexion
with other facts, whether constant or variable, and all
attendant circumstances.-That the exterior angle of a
triangle is equal to both the interior and opposite angles,
is a truth which comes within the province of demon-
stration. That Homer was the author of the Iliad, that
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
357
Xerxes invaded Greece, &c., are inquiries belonging to
moral reasoning.
§ 282. Use of definitions and axioms in demonstrative reasoning.
In every process of reasoning there must be at the
commencement of it something to be proved; there must
also be some things either known, or taken for granted
as such, with which the comparison of the propositions
begins. The preliminary truths in demonstrative reason-
ings are involved in such definitions as are found in all
mathematical treatises. It is impossible to give a dem-
onstration of the properties of a circle, parabola, ellipse,
or other mathematical figure, without first having given
a definition of them. DEFINITIONS, therefore, are the
facts assumed, the FIRST PRINCIPLES in demonstrative rea-
soning, from which, by means of the subsequent steps, the
conclusion is derived. We find something entirely simi-
lar in respect to subjects which admit of the application
of a different form of reasoning. Thus, in Natural Phi-
losophy, the general facts in relation to the gravity and
elasticity of the air may be considered as first principles.
From these principles in Physics are deduced, as conse-
quences, the suspension of the mercury in the barometer,
and its fall when carried up to an eminence.
66
We must not forget here the use of axioms in the
demonstrations of mathematics. Axioms are certain
self-evident propositions, or propositions the truth of
which is discovered by intuition, such as the following:
Things equal to the same are equal to one another;"
"From equals take away equals, and equals remain."
We generally find a number of them prefixed to treatises of
geometry, and other treatises involving geometrical prin-
ciples; and it has been a mistaken supposition, which
has long prevailed, that they are at the foundation of
geometrical, and of all other demonstrative reasoning.
But axioms, taken by themselves, lead to no conclusions.
With their assistance alone, it cannot be denied, that the
truth, involved in propositions susceptible of demonstra-
tion, would have been beyond our reach. (See § 205.)
But axioms are by no means without their use, al-
though their nature may have been misunderstood. They
358
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
are properly and originally intuitive perceptions of the
truth; and whether they be expressed in words, as we
generally find them, or not, is of but little consequence,
except as a matter of convenience to beginners, and in
giving instruction. But those intuitive perceptions which
are always implied in them are essential helps; and if
by their aid alone we should be unable to complete a
demonstration, we should be equally unable without
them. We begin with definitions; we compare together
successively a number of propositions; and these intui-
tive perceptions of their agreement or disagreement, to
which, when expressed in words, we give the name of
axioms, attend us at every step.
§ 283. The opposites of demonstrative reasonings absurd.
In demonstrations we consider only one side of a ques-
tion; it is not necessary to do anything more than this.
The first principles in the reasoning are given; they are
not only supposed to be certain, but they are assumed as
such; these are followed by a number of propositions in
succession, all of which are compared together; if the
conclusion be a demonstrative one, then there has been a
clear perception of certainty at every step in the train.
Whatever may be urged against an argument thus con-
ducted is of no consequence; the opposite of it will al-
ways imply some fallacy. Thus the proposition that
the three angles of a triangle are not equal to two right
angles, and other propositions, which are the opposite of
what has been demonstrated, will always be found to be
false, and also to involve an absurdity; that is, are incon-
sistent with, and contradictory to themselves.
But it is not so in Moral Reasoning. And here, there-
fore, we find a marked distinction between the two great
forms of ratiocination. We may arrive at a conclusion
on a moral subject with a great degree of certainty; not
a doubt may be left in the mind; and yet the opposite
of that conclusion may be altogether within the limits of
possibility. We have, for instance, the most satisfactory
evidence that the sun rose to-day, but the opposite might
have been true without any inconsistency or contradic-
tion, viz., That the sun did not rise. Again, we have no
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
359
doubt of the great law in physics, that heavy bodies de-
scend to the earth in a line directed towards its centre.
But we can conceive of the opposite of this without in-
volving any contradiction or absurdity. In other words,
they might have been subjected, if the Creator had so
determined, to the influence of a law requiring them to
move in a different direction. But, on a thorough ex-
amination of a demonstrative process, we shall find our-
selves unable to admit even the possibility of the opposite.
§ 284. Demonstrations do not admit of different degrees of belief.
When our thoughts are employed upon subjects which
come within the province of moral reasoning, we yield
different degrees of assent; we form opinions more or
less probable. Sometimes our belief is of the lowest
kind; nothing more than mere presumption. New evi-
dence gives it new strength; and it may go on, from one
degree of strength to another, till all doubt is excluded,
and all possibility of mistake shut out.-It is different in
demonstrations; the assent which we yield is at all times
of the highest kind, and is never susceptible of being re-
garded as more or less. This results, as must be obvious
on the slightest examination, from the nature of demon-
strative reasoning.
In demonstrative reasonings we always begin with
certain first principles or truths, either known or taken
for granted; and these hold the first place, or are the
foundation of that series of propositions over which the
mind successively passes, until it rests in the conclusion.
In mathematics, the first principles, of which we here
speak, are the definitions.
We begin, therefore, with what is acknowledged by
all to be true or certain. At every step there is an intu-
itive perception of the agreement or disagreement of the
propositions which are compared together. Consequent-
ly, however far we may advance in the comparison of
them, there is no possibility of falling short of that de-
gree of assent with which it is acknowledged that the
series commenced. So that demonstrative certainty may
be judged to amount to this. Whenever we arrive at the
last step or the conclusion of a series of propositions, the
A
S
360
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
1,
mind, in effect, intuitively perceives the relation, whether
it be the agreement or disagreement, coincidence or want
of coincidence, between the last step or the conclusion,
and the conditions involved in the propositions at the
commencement of the series; and, therefore, demonstra-
tive certainty is virtually the same as the certainty of in-
tuition. Although it arises on a different occasion, and
is, therefore, entitled to a separate consideration, there is
no difference in the degree of belief.
§ 285. Of the use of diagrams in demonstrations.
In conducting a demonstrative process, it is frequently
the case that we make use of various kinds of figures or
diagrams.―The proper use of diagrams, of a square,
circle, triangle, or other figure, which we delineate be-
fore us, is to assist the mind in keeping its ideas distinct,
and to help in comparing them together with readiness
and correctness. They are a sort of auxiliaries, brought
in to the help of our intellectual infirmities, but are not
absolutely necessary, since demonstrative reasoning, wher-
ever it may be found, resembles any other kind of rea-
soning in this most important respect, viz., in being a
comparison of our ideas.

In proof that artificial diagrams are only auxiliaries,
and are not essentially necessary in demonstrations, it
may be remarked, that they are necessarily all of them
imperfect. It is not within the capability of the wit and
power of man to frame a perfect circle, or a perfect tri-
angle, or any other figure which is perfect. We might
argue this from our general knowledge of the imperfec-
tion of the senses; and we may almost regard it as a
matter determined by experiments of the senses them-
selves, aided by optical instruments. "There never was,
says Cudworth, "a straight line, triangle, or circle, that
we saw in all our lives, that was mathematically exact,
but even sense itself, at least by the help of microscopes,
might plainly discover much unevenness, ruggedness,
flexuosity, angulosity, irregularity, and deformity in
them."*
""
Our reasonings, therefore, and our conclusions will not
* Treatise concerning Immutable Morality book iv., ch. iii.
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
361
apply to the figures before us, but merely to an imagined
perfect figure. The mind can not only originate a figure
internally and subjectively, but can ascribe to it the attri-
bute of perfection. And a verbal statement of the prop-
erties of this imagined perfect figure is what we under-
stand by a DEFINITION, the use of which, in this kind of
reasoning in particular, has already been mentioned.
§ 286. Of signs in general as connected with reasoning.
The statements in the last section will appear the less
exceptionable when it is recollected that in all cases rea-
soning is purely a mental process. From beginning to
end, it is a succession of perceptions. Neither mathe-
matical signs nor words constitute the process, but are
only its attendants and auxiliaries. We can reason with-
out diagrams or other signs employed in mathematics, the
same as an infant reasons before it has learned artificial
language.
When the infant has once put his finger in the fire, he
avoids the repetition of the experiment, reasoning in this
way, that there is a resemblance between one flame and
another, and that what has once caused him pain, will be
likely, under the same circumstances, to cause the same
sensation. When the infant sees before him some glit-
tering toy, he reaches his hand towards it, and is evident-
ly induced to do so by a thought of this kind, that the
acquisition of the object will soon follow the effort of the
hand, as it has a similar effort previously made.-Here is
reasoning without words; it is purely internal; never-
theless, no one will presume to say that words are not
great helps in reasoning. And thus in demonstrative
reasoning, although diagrams, and numerical and alge-
braic signs are assistances, they do not constitute the pro-
cess; nor can it be even said that they are indispensably
essential to it.
"Some geometricians," says Buffier (First Truths, pt.
i., ch. 6), “are led into a palpable error in imagining that
things demonstrated by Geometry exist, out of their
thought, exactly similar to the demonstration formed of
them in their mind. They must be quickly sensible of
their mistake, if they will but reflect a moment on the
VOL. I.-H. H
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362
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
perfect globe, the imaginary properties of which are
demonstrated in Geometry, though the thing itself has no
real existence in nature. Geometry shows nothing of
the existence of things, but only what they are, suppo-
sing them to exist really such as they are conceived by
the mind. And, indeed, were all created things existing
annihilated, geometry would not lose a single point of its
demonstrations; the circle would still remain a round
figure, of which all the points of the circumference would
be equally distant from the centre.”
§ 287. Of the influence of demonstrative reasoning on the mental
character.
A considerable skill in demonstrative reasoning is on a
number of accounts desirable, although it cannot be de-
nied that very frequent practice and great readiness in it
are not always favourable; so that it seems proper briefly
to mention some of the effects, both propitious and un-
propitious, on the mental character.
(I.) A frequency of practice in demonstrative reason-
ing greatly aids in giving one a ready command of his
attention. And this is said for two reasons. First, be-
cause the subjects of such reasoning are not objects of
the senses, but immaterial; are conceptions rather than
existences; the abstractions of things rather than things
themselves; and, consequently, are not distinctly com-
prehensible without considerable effort. And, second, be-
cause, in this species of reasoning, the propositions fol-
low each other in such regular order and so closely, and
so great is the importance of perceiving the agreement
or disagreement of each succeeding one with that which
goes before, that a careless, unfixed, and dissipated state
of the mind seems to be utterly inconsistent with carry-
ing on such a process with any sort of success to the con-
clusion. As, therefore, the strictest attention is here so
highly necessary, the more a person subjects himself to
this discipline, the more ready and efficient will be the
particular application of the mind to which we give that
And we often find distinguished individuals in
political life and in the practice of the law who are de-
sirous of holding their mental powers in the most prompt
name.
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
363
and systematic obedience, imposing on themselves exer-
cises in geometry and algebra for this purpose.
(II.) This mode of reasoning accustoms one to care
and discrimination in the examination of subjects. In all
discussions where the object is to find out the truth, it is
necessary to take asunder all the parts having relation to
the general subject, and bestow upon them a share of our
consideration. And, in general, we find no people more
disposed to do this than mathematicians; they are not
fond of reasoning, as Mr. Locke expresses it, in the lump,
but are for going into particulars, for allowing every-
thing its due weight and nothing more, and for resolutely
throwing out of the estimate all propositions which are
not directly and fully to the point.-It must further be
said, as a general remark closely connected with what
has just been observed, that those departments of science
which require demonstrative reasoning are promotive of
a characteristic of great value-a love of the truth.
(III.) Demonstrative reasoning, although this beneficial
result is not exclusively appropriate to this mode of rea-
soning, gives to the mind an increased grasp or compre-
hension. This result, it is true, will not be experienced
in the case of those who have merely exercised them-
selves in the study of a few select demonstrations; it im-
plies a familiarity of the mind with long and complica-
ted trains of deductions. A thorough mathematician,
who has made it a business to exercise himself in this
method of reasoning, can hardly have been otherwise than
sensible of that intellectual comprehension, or length and
breadth of survey, which we have in view; since one
demonstration is often connected with another, much in
the same way as the subordinate parts of separate demon-
strations are connected with each other; and he there-
fore finds it necessary, if he would go on with satisfac-
tion and pleasure, to gather up and retain, in the grasp
of his mind, all the general and subordinate propositions
of a long treatise.
§ 288. Further considerations on the influence of demonstrative rea-
soning.
But, on the other hand, there are some results of a
364
DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING.
very great attention to sciences, which require the exclu-
sive application of demonstrative reasoning, of a less fa-
vourable kind.--(I.) An exclusive culture of demonstra-
tive reasoning unfavourably affects the operations of the
susceptibility of belief on all subjects out of the circle of
the mathematical; or perhaps we may say, in direct
terms, that out of that circle it positively diminishes the
power of belief.
The exclusive mathematician has been
accustomed to yield his assent to demonstration only;
and it is but natural that he should find some difficulty in
being satisfied with any lower degree of evidence. This
disposition to doubt will be in some measure experien-
ced, even in the transition from pure to mixed mathemat-
ics; at least there will be an absence of that full and de-
lighted satisfaction which had hitherto been enjoyed.
Still more will it be felt when he is called upon to judge
of events, and duties, and actions of common life, which
do not admit of the application of demonstration.—In a
word, it has been supposed to unfit the mind in a con-
siderable degree for accurate discriminations as to moral
evidence on all subjects whatever, where that species of
evidence is alone admissible; and also for fair and cor-
rect judgment in matters of taste.
(II.) Again, it has been thought, among other things,
that this form of reasoning, when carried to a great
length, has a tendency to render the mind mechanical.
That is, while it increases its ability of acting in a given
way, it diminishes the power of invention, and prevents
its striking out into a new path, different from that which
it has been in the habit of going over.
And hence it is
that men of the strictest virtue and the most powerful in-
tellect have sometimes discovered an unexpected weak-
ness and made extraordinary mistakes when placed in
certain new situations.-We may illustrate our meaning
by one or two instances. The celebrated Turgot, who
combined the purest moral sentiments with the rarest in-
tellectual endowments, was what may be termed a math-
ematical politician. History has recorded the result.
When the King of France called him to direct the politi-
cal concerns of the French empire, he decidedly failed,
where half the talents and integrity had firmly held the
MORAL REASONING.
365
helm amid political tempests. When called from the ab-
stractions of science to deal with the realities of life, with
the interests, and prejudices, and passions of mankind,
mathematician and philosopher as he was, he found, too
late, that we cannot estimate the intellect as we can esti-
mate the arc of a circle, and that the calculus which can
measure the motions of the stars may not succeed in as-
certaining the momentum and the obliquities of human
nature. But La Place, a far higher name on the list of
eminent mathematicians, is an instance still more to our
purpose. After the accession of Napoleon to the first
Consulship in France, La Place was appointed Minister
of the Interior; an office which he held six weeks, and
was then dismissed. "A geometrician of the first rank,'
says Napoleon," he did not reach mediocrity as a states-
From the first, the Consuls became sensible that
they had made a mistake in his appointment.
He never
viewed any subject in its true light; he was always oc-
cupied with subtilties; his notions were all problematic,
and he carried the spirit of the infinitely small into the
administration."
""
man.

Such, on the whole, being the result of an exclusive at-
tention to sciences which admit of demonstration alone, it
is obvious, when pursuing studies of that kind, that we
should avail ourselves of the benefit resulting from other
modes of mental discipline. Those who aim at a perfect
education will not "canton out to themselves a little Go-
shen in the intellectual world," which is to receive all
their labours, and leave the rest of the vast field of the
mind to neglect, but will bestow a suitable share of cul-
ture on every part of it.
CHAPTER XII.
MORAL REASONING.
§ 289. Of the subjects and importance of moral reasoning.
MORAL REASONING, which is the second great division
or kind of reasoning, concerns opinions, actions, and
Нн 2
366
MORAL REASONING.
events; embracing, in general, those subjects which do
not come within the province of demonstrative reasoning.
The subjects to which it relates are often briefly expressed
by saying that they are matters of fact; nor would this
definition, concise as it is, be likely to give an erroneous
idea of them.
Skill in this kind of reasoning is of great use in the for-
mation of opinions concerning the duties and the general
conduct of life. Some may be apt to think, that those
who have been most practised in demonstrative reason-
ing can find no difficulty in adapting their intellectual
habits to matters of mere probability. This opinion is
not altogether well-founded, as we have seen in the pre-
ceding chapter. Although that species of reasoning has
a favourable result in giving persons a command over the
attention, and, in some other respects, whenever exclu-
sively employed, it has the effect in some degree to dis-
qualify them for a correct judgment on those various sub-
jects which properly belong to moral reasoning.-The
last, therefore, which has its distinctive name from the
primary signification of the Latin MORES, viz., manners,
customs, &c., requires a separate consideration.
§ 290. Of the nature of moral certainty.
Moral reasoning causes in us different degrees of as-
sent, and in this respect differs from demonstrative. In
demonstration there is not only an immediate perception
of the relation of the propositions compared together,
but, in consequence of their abstract and determinate na-
ture, there is also a knowledge or absolute certainty of
their agreement or disagreement. In moral reasoning
the case is somewhat different.—In both kinds we begin
with certain propositions, which are either known or re-
garded as such. In both there is a series of proposi-
tions successively compared. But in moral reasoning, in
consequence of the propositions not being abstract and
fixed, and, therefore, often uncertain, the agreement or
disagreement among them is in general not said to be
known, but presumed; and this presumption may be
more or less, admitting a great variety of degrees.
While, therefore, one mode of reasoning is attended with
MORAL REASONING.
367
knowledge, the other can properly be said to produce in
most cases only judgment or opinion.-But the probabil-
ity of such judgment or opinion may sometimes arise so
high as to exclude all reasonable doubt. And hence we
then speak as if we possessed certainty in respect to sub-
jects which admit merely of the application of moral
reasoning. Although it is possible that there may be
some difference between the belief attendant on demon-
stration and that produced by the highest probability, the
effect on our feelings is at any rate essentially the same.
A man who should doubt the existence of the cities of
London and Pekin, although he has no other evidence of
it than that of testimony, would be considered hardly less
singular and unreasonable than one who might take it
into his head to doubt of the propositions of Euclid.—
It is this very high degree of probability which we term
moral certainty.
§ 291. Of reasoning from analogy.
MORAL REASONING admits of some subordinate divis-
ions; and of these, the first to be mentioned is reasoning
from analogy.-The word analogy is used with some
vagueness, but in general denotes a resemblance, either
greater or less. Having observed a consistency and uni-
formity in the operations of the physical world, we are
naturally led to presume that things of the same nature
will be affected in the same way, and will produce the
same effects; and also that the same or similar effects
are to be attributed to like causes. ANALOGICAL REASON-
ING, therefore, is that mental process by which unknown
truths or conclusions are inferred from the resemblance of
things.
The argument by which Sir Isaac Newton establishes
the truth of universal gravitation is of this sort. He
proves that the planets in their revolutions are deflected
towards the sun in a manner precisely similar to the de-
flection of the earth towards the same luminary; and
also that there is a similar deflection of the moon to-
wards the earth, and of a body projected obliquely at the
earth's surface towards the earth's centre. Hence he in-
fers by analogy, that all these deflections originate from
368
MORAL REASONING
the same cause, or are governed by one and the same
law, viz., the power of gravitation.
This method of reasoning is applicable to the inquiry,
Whether the planets are inhabited? and furnishes the
sole ground for the indulgence of such a supposition.
We observe a resemblance in certain respects between
Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and other planets, and the Earth.
They all revolve around the sun as the Earth does, and
all derive light from that source. Several of them are
ascertained to revolve on their axis, and, consequently,
must have a succession of day and night. Some of them
have moons, and all are subject to the law of gravitation.
From these various similitudes we draw the conclusion
by analogy, that those planets must be inhabited like the
Earth.
There are a variety of subjects, both speculative and
practical, in respect to which we may reason in this
way, and sometimes with considerable satisfaction. And,
among others, this method of reasoning finds a place in
the arguments of persons in the practice of the law. An
attorney, for instance, advocates a case which does not
fall within the provisions of existing statutes, and for
which he finds in his authorities no exact precedent. He
is therefore under the necessity of ascertaining, as far as
possible, the analogy or resemblance between this case
and others which have been made the subject of judicial
decisions; and this analogy he makes the basis of his
argument.
§ 292. Caution to be used in reasoning from analogy.
The remark remains to be made, that much care is ne-
cessary in arguments drawn from this source, especially
in scientific investigations; and they are in all cases to
be received with some degree of distrust. The ancient
anatomists are an instance of precipitate reasoning from
analogy. Being hindered by certain superstitions from
dissecting the bodies of men, they endeavoured to obtain
the information they wanted by the dissection of those
animals whose internal structure was supposed to come
nearest to that of the human body. In this way they
were led into a variety of mistakes, which have been de-
MORAL REASONING.
369
tected by later anatomists. It does not follow, because
things resemble each other in a multitude of particulars,
that this resemblance will be found in all others; and
we are, therefore, always to consider ourselves in danger
of pushing the supposition of similitude too far.
The proper use of analogical reasoning seems to be,
in all scientific inquiries, merely to illustrate and confirm
truths which are susceptible of proof from other sources
of evidence, either by casting a direct additional light or
by answering objections. A happy instance of this use
of it is the work of Bishop Butler, entitled, "The Anal-
ogy of Religion, natural and revealed, to the Constitution
and Course of nature."-It is not the object of the wri-
ter to prove the truth of religion, but to answer some ob-
jections which may be brought against its practical de-
tails and its principles by those who, while they object to
the Bible, still maintain the existence of a God. And
this he does by proving that the same objections exist to
the providence of God in the natural world. There is
an Analogy or resemblance in the two, viz., between the
administration of God as made known in the Bible, and
his administration of things as made known in the natu-
ral world; and if the objections which are brought for-
ward will reject him from the authorship of what we
term Religion, they will dethrone him also, for the same
reason, from all authorship and direction in the ordinary
economy of nature.
§ 293. Of reasoning by induction.
We now come to another method of moral reasoning,
viz., by induction. Inductive reasoning is the inferring of
general truths from particular facts that have fallen under
our observation. Our experience teaches us that nature
is governed by uniform laws; and we have a firm expec-
tation (whether it be an original principle of our consti-
tution, or whatever may be the origin of it) that events
will happen in future, as we have seen them happen in
times past. With this state of mind we are prepared to
deduce inferences by induction.
When a property has been found in a number of sub-
jects of the same kind, and nothing of a contradictory
370
MORAL REASONING.
nature appears, we have the strongest expectation of find-
ing the same property in all the individuals of the same
class; in other words, we come to the conclusion that the
property is a general one. Accordingly, we apply a
magnet to several pieces of iron; we find in every in-
stance a strong attraction taking place; and we con-
clude, although we have made the experiment with only
a small number of the masses of iron actually in exist-
ence, that it is a property of iron to be thus affected by
that substance, or that all iron is susceptible of magneti-
cal attraction. This is a conclusion drawn by induction.
The belief which attends a well-conducted process of
inductive reasoning bears a decided character; it is mor-
al probability of the highest kind, or what is sometimes
termed moral certainty; and is at least found to be suf-
ficient for all practical purposes. We obtain all the
general truths relating to the properties and laws of ma-
terial objects in this way.
And we thus not only acquire a knowledge of mate-
rial objects, but apply the same inductive process also in
the investigation of laws which govern the operations of
the mind. It is by experience, or observing what takes
place in a number of individuals, that we are able to in-
fer the general law of association, viz., when two or
more ideas have existed in the mind in immediate succes-
sion, they are afterward found to be mutually suggested
by each other. It is the same in ascertaining other gen-
eral laws of the mind.
§ 294. Of the caution necessary in inductive processes.
Reasoning in this method requires the exercise of cau-
tion no less than by analogy. It is especially liable to
prove fallacious, whenever our investigations have been
marked with impatience, and our judgments are formed
on a very small number of facts.
When the number of examined instances is large, and
the results are uniform, the conclusion amounts to moral
certainty. But when the number of such instances is
small, and the results are not altogether uniform, the
judgments formed will possess a greater or less degree
of probability, varying with circumstances.--And espe-
MORAL REASONING.
371
cially is the mind left in a state of vacillation and uncer-
tainty, when results have repeatedly occurred under such
circumstances as to leave us at liberty to ascribe them
to a diversity of causes. In such cases we find ourselves
reduced to the necessity of resorting to what writers on
this subject have termed INSTANTLE CRUCIS.-The impor-
tant and decisive method in Inductive Reasoning of IN-
STANTIÆ CRUCIS was first laid down in the Novum Orga-
num of Bacon, and has recently been happily illustrated
in Playfair's View of the Progress of Mathematical and
Physical Science in the following terms.
§ 295. Of instances or experiments in inductive reasoning termed in-
stantiæ crucis.
"When the understanding is placed in equilibrio, as it
were, between two or more causes, each of which ac-
counts equally well for the appearances, as far as they
are known, nothing remains to be done but to look out
for a fact which can be explained by one of these causes
and not by the other; if such a one can be found, the
uncertainty is removed, and the true cause is determined.
Such facts perform the office of a cross, erected at the
separation of two roads, to direct the traveller which he
is to take, and on this account Bacon gave them the
name of instantiæ crucis.
66
Suppose that the subject inquired into were the mo-
tion of the planets, and that the phenomena which first
present themselves, or the motion of these bodies in lon-
gitude, could be explained equally on the Ptolemaic and
the Copernican system, that is, either on the system
which makes the Earth, or that which makes the Sun,
the centre of the planetary motions, a cautious philoso-
pher would hesitate about which of the two he should
adopt; and, notwithstanding that one of them was rec-
ommended by its superior simplicity, he might not think
himself authorized to give to it a decided preference
above the other. If, however, he consider the motion of
these bodies in latitude, that is to say, their digressions
from the plain of the ecliptic, he will find a set of phe-
nomena which cannot be reconciled with the supposition
that the Earth is the centre of the planetary motions, but
372
MORAL REASONING.
which receive the most simple and satisfactory explana-
tion from supposing that the sun is at rest, and is the
centre of those motions. The latter phenomena would
therefore serve as instantia crucis, by which the superior
credibility of the Copernican system was fully evinced."*
§ 296. Of combined or accumulated arguments.
When a proposition in geometry is given to be demon-
strated, it sometimes happens that two or more solutions
may be offered leading to the same end. The theorem
or the problem is one and the same, as also the conclu-
sion; but there may be more than one train of reasoning,
more than one series of intermediate steps, connecting
the proposition which is to be investigated with the re-
sult. But as the conclusion in each of these different
cases is certain, it does not strengthen it, although it may
gratify curiosity to resort to a different and additional
process.
It is not thus in moral reasoning. The great differ-
ence between the two kinds of reasoning, as before ob-
served, is not so much in the mental process as in the
subjects about which they are employed. Now as the
subjects in moral reasoning are not of a purely abstract
nature, and are, therefore, often attended with uncertain-
ty, our belief, when we arrive at the conclusion, is not al-
ways of the highest kind. More frequently it is some in-
ferior degree of probability. Hence, in any moral inquiry,
the more numerous the series of arguments which termi-
nates in a particular conclusion, the stronger will be our
belief in the truth of that conclusion.
Thus we may suppose a question to arise, Whether the
Romans occupied the island of Great Britain at some pe-
riod previous to the Saxon conquest? In reference to
this inquiry a number of independent arguments may be
brought forward: (1.) The testimony of the Roman his-
torians; (2.) The remains of buildings, roads, and en-
campments, which indicate a Roman origin; (3.) The
coins, urns, &c., which have been discovered. Although
these arguments are independent of each other, they all
* See Works of John Playfair, Esq., Edinburgh edition, vol. ii., p. 105.
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
373
bear upon the same conclusion; and, being combined to-
gether, they very essentially increase the strength of our
belief.
CHAPTER XIII.
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
§ 297. Rules relating to the practice of reasoning.
VARIOUS directions have been given by writers on Lo-
gic (which, it may be remarked here, is only another name
for whatever concerns the nature, kinds, and applica-
tions of reasoning), the object of which is to secure the
more prompt, accurate, and efficient use of the reasoning
power. It is but natural to suppose that some of these
dialectical rules are of greater, and others of less value.
Such as appeared to be of the least questionable impor-
tance are brought together and explained in this chap-
ter; nor will this occasion any surprise when it is recol-
lected that it has been the object of this Work through-
out, not only to ascertain what the mental operations are,
but, by practical suggestions from time to time, to pro-
mote what is of a good, and prevent what is of a hurtful
tendency in such operations.
The directions now referred to have of course a more
intimate connexion with Moral than with Demonstrative
reasoning; but this is a circumstance which enhances
rather than diminishes their worth. The occasions which
admit and require the application of moral reasoning, be-
ing inseparable from the most common occurrences and
exigences of life, are much more numerous than those of
demonstrative reasoning.
◊ 298. Of being influenced in reasoning by a love of the truth.
(I.) The first direction in relation to reasoning which
will be given, concerns the feelings with which it is prop-
er to be animated. It is this. In all questions which
admit of discussion, and on which we find ourselves at
VOL. I.-I I
374
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
variance with the opinions of others, we are to make
truth our object.-The opposite of a desire of the truth is
a wish to decide the subject of dispute in one way or an-
other, independently of a just consideration of the evi-
dence. The foundation of such a preference of one re-
sult to another is in general the prejudices of interest
and passion; and these are the great enemies of truth.
Whenever we are under their influence, we form a dif-
ferent estimation of testimony and of other sources of ev-
idence from what we should do under other circumstan-
ces; and at such times they can hardly fail to lead us to
false results. This rule is important on all occasions of
reasoning whatever, but particularly in public debate;
because at such times the presence of others and the love
of victory combine with other unpropitious influences to
induce men to forget or to disregard the claims which
truth is always entitled to enforce.
§ 299. Care to be used in correctly stating the subject of discussion.
(II.) Another rule in the prosecution of an argument
is, that the question under debate is to be fairly and cor-
rectly stated. The matter in controversy may be stated
in such a way as to include, in the very enunciation of
it, something taken for granted, which must necessarily
lead to a decision in favour of one of the opponents. But
this amounts to begging the question, a species of fallacy
or sophism upon which we shall again have occasion to
remark. Sometimes the subject of discussion is stated so
carelessly, that the true point at issue is wholly left out.
It may be proper, therefore, in many cases to adopt the
practice of special pleaders, and first to ascertain all the
points in which the opponents agree, and those in which
they differ. And then they can hardly fail of directing
their arguments to what is truly the subject of contention.
In order that there may not be a possibility of misun-
derstanding here, dialecticians should aim to have clear
ideas of everything stated in the question which has an
intimate connexion with the point at issue. Subordinate
parts of the question, and even particular words, are to be
examined. If, for instance, the statement affirm or deny
anything in regard to the qualities or properties of mate-
Th
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
375
rial bodies, it is incumbent upon us to possess as clear
ideas as possible both of the object in general and of
those properties or qualities in particular. Similar re-
marks will apply to other subjects of inquiry of whatever
kind.
§ 300. Consider the kind of evidence applicable to the subject.
(III.) As one subject clearly admits of the application
of one species of evidence, while another as clearly re-
quires evidence of a different kind, we are thence ena-
bled to lay down this rule, viz., We are to consider what
kind of evidence is appropriate to the question under dis-
cussion.
When the inquiry is one of a purely abstract nature,
and all the propositions involved in the reasoning are of
the same kind, then we have the evidence of Intuition or
intuitive perception; and the conclusion, for reasons al-
ready mentioned, is certain.-In the examination of the
properties of material bodies, we depend originally on
the evidence of the Senses, which gives a character and
strength to our belief according to the circumstances un-
der which the objects are presented to them.—In judging
of those facts in events and in the conduct of men which
have not come under our own observation, we rely on
Testimony. This source of belief causes probability in a
greater or less degree, according as the testimony is from
one or more, given by a person who understands the sub-
ject to which it relates, or not, &c.-And again, some
subjects admit of the evidence of Induction, and in re-
spect to others we have no other aids than the less au-
thoritative reasonings from Analogy. In other cases,
the evidence is wholly made up of various incidental cir-
cumstances which are found to have relation to the sub-
ject in hand, and which affect the belief in different de-
grees and for various causes.
And hence, as the sources of belief, as well as the be-
lief itself, have an intimate connexion with the subject
before us, they ought to be taken into consideration. The
evidence should be appropriate to the question. But if
the question admit of more than one kind of evidence,
then all are entitled to their due weight.
376
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
§ 301. Reject the aid of false arguments or sophisms
(IV.) There is a species of false reasoning which we
call a SOPHISM. A sophism is an argument which con-
tains some secret fallacy under the general appearance of
correctness. The aid of such arguments, which are cal-
culated to deceive, and are, in general, inconsistent with
a love of the truth, should be rejected.
(1.) IGNORATIO ELENCHI, or misapprehension of the
question, is one instance of sophism. It exists when,
from some misunderstanding of the terms and phrases
that are employed, the arguments advanced do not truly
apply to the point in debate. It was a doctrine, for in-
stance, of some of the early philosophic teachers of
Greece, that there is but one principle of things. Aris-
totle, understanding by the word principle what we com-
monly express by the word ELEMENT, attempted to show
the contrary, viz., that the elements are not one, but
many, thus incurring the imputation of IGNORATIO ELEN-
CHI; for those who held the doctrine which was thus
subjected to his animadversion, had reference, not to the
form, but the cause of things; not to any doctrine of ele-
mentary material particles, but to the intellectual origin,
the creative mind, the Supreme Being, whom, as the
PRINCIPLE (that is, as the beginning and the support of
things), they maintained to be one.
*
(2.) PETITIO PRINCIPII, or begging of the question, is
another instance of sophism. This sophism is found
whenever the disputant offers in proof of a proposition,
the proposition itself in other words. The following has
been given as an instance of this fallacy in reasoning:
A person attempts to prove that God is eternal by main-
taining that his existence is without beginning and with-
out end. Here the proof which is offered, and the prop-
osition itself which is to be proved, are essentially the
same.—When we are told that opium causes sleep be-
cause it has a soporific quality, or that grass grows by
means of its vegetative power, the same thing is repeated
in other terms. This fallacy is very frequently practised;
and a little care in detecting it would spoil many a fine
saying, as well as deface many an elaborate argument.
* La Logique ou l'Art de Penser (Port Royale), pt. iii., chap. xix.
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
377
What is called arguing in a circle is a species of sophism
very nearly related to the above. It consists in making
two propositions reciprocally prove each other.
(3.) NON CAUSA PRO CAUSA, or the assignation of a false
cause. People are unwilling to be thought ignorant;
rather than be thought so, they will impose on the cre-
dulity of their fellow-men, and sometimes on themselves,
by assigning false causes of events. Nothing is more
common than this sophism among illiterate people; pride
is not diminished by deficiency of learning, and such
people, therefore, must gratify it by assigning such causes
of events as they find nearest at hand. Hence, when the
appearance of a comet is followed by a famine or a war,
they are disposed to consider it as the cause of those ca-
lamities. If a person have committed some flagrant
crime, and shortly after suffer some heavy distress, it is
no uncommon thing to hear the former assigned as the
direct and the sole cause of the latter.-This was the fal-
lacy which historians have ascribed to the Indians of
Paraguay, who supposed the baptismal ceremony to be
the cause of death, because the Jesuit missionaries, when-
ever opportunity afforded, administered it to dying in-
fants, and to adults in the last stage of disease.
(4.) Another species of sophistry is called FALLACIA
ACCIDENTIS.-We fall into this kind of false reasoning
whenever we give an opinion concerning the general
nature of a thing from some accidental circumstance.
Thus, the Christian religion has been made the pretext
for persecutions, and has, in consequence, been the source
of much suffering; but it is a sophism to conclude that it
is, on the whole, not a great good to the human race, be-
cause it has been attended with this perversion. Again,
if a medicine have operated in a particular case unfa-
vourably, or in another case have operated very favour-
ably, the universal rejection or reception of it, in conse-
quence of the favourable or unfavourable result in a par-
ticular instance, would be a hasty and fallacious induc-
tion of essentially the same sort. That is, the general
nature of the thing is estimated from a circumstance
which may be wholly accidental.
I12

378
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
r
§ 302. Fallacia equivocationis, or the use of equivocal terms and phrases.
(V.) It is a further direction of much practical impor-
tance, that the reasoner should be careful, in the use of
language, to express everything with plainness and pre-
cision; and especially never attempt to prejudice the
cause of truth, and snatch a surreptitious victory by the
use of an equivocal phraseology. No man of an en-
larged and cultivated mind can be ignorant that multi-
tudes of words in every language admit of diversities of
signification. There are found also in all languages
many words, which sometimes agree with each other,
and sometimes differ in signification, according to the
connexion in which they appear, and their particular ap-
plication. There is, therefore, undoubtedly an opportu-
nity, if any should be disposed to embrace it, of employ-
ing equivocal terms, equivocal phrases, and perplexed
and mysterious combinations of speech, and thus hiding
themselves from the penetrating light of truth, under
cover of a mist of their own raising.
No man, whose sole object is truth and justice, will re-
sort to such a discreditable subterfuge. If in reasoning
he finds himself inadvertently employing words of an
equivocal signification, it will be a first care with him to
guard against the misapprehensions likely to result from
that source. He will explain so precisely the sense in
which he uses the doubtful terms as to leave no proba-
bility of cavilling and mistake.
And besides the invaluable reputation of a man of hon-
our and justice, he will in this way realize results in re-
spect to his own intellectual character of the most bene-
ficial nature. The practice of verbal criticism, as it has
been called (that is, of discriminating readily and accu-
rately the meaning of words), will result in a HABIT, giv-
ing to the dialectician a vast power over his opponent,
who has not been trained to the making of such nice
discriminations. There will be a keenness of intellectual
perception which, while it helps to untie the perplexities
of langauge, at the same time resolves the perplexities of
thought; separating meaning from meaning, and divi-
ding truth from falsehood in those cases where at first
sight it appeared to be impossible. But it is a power
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
379
which cannot be possessed without a laborious acquaint-
ance with the purest writers and the ablest reasoners in
a language, together with a systematic and philosophic
study of its origin, idioms, and general forms. And
while it may be employed to the most beneficial pur-
poses, it is far too formidable to be intrusted in the man-
agement of any one who is not under the influence of
that moral rectitude and that love of the truth which
have been so repeatedly insisted on.
303. On the sophism of estimating actions and character from the
circumstance of success merely.
(VI.) The foregoing are some of the fallacies in rea-
soning which have found a place in writers on Logic.
To these might be added the fallacy or sophism to which
men are obviously so prone, of judging favourably of the
characters and the deeds of others from the mere circum-
stance of success. Those actions which have a decided-
ly successful termination, are almost always applauded,
and are looked upon as the result of great intellectual
forecast; while, not less frequently, actions that have an
unsuccessful issue are not only stigmatized as evil in
themselves, but as indicating in their projector a flighty
and ill-balanced mind.-The fallacy, however, does not
consist in taking the issues or results into consideration,
which are undoubtedly entitled to their due place in esti-
mating the actions and characters of men, but in too much
limiting our view of things, and forming a favourable or
unfavourable judgment from the mere circumstance of
good or ill success alone.
While there is no SOPHISM more calculated to lead
astray and perplex, there is none more common than
this; so much so, that it has almost passed into a proverb,
that a hero must not only be brave, but fortunate.
Hence it is that Alexander is called Great, because he
gained victories and overran kingdoms; while Charles
XII. of Sweden, who the most nearly resembles him in
the characteristics of bravery, perseverance, and chimer-
ical ambition, but had his projects cut short at the fatal
battle of Pultowa, is called a madman.
"Machiavel has justly animadverted," says Dr. John-
380
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
son, "on the different notice taken by all succeeding
times of the two great projectors, Catiline and Cæsar.
Both formed the same project, and intended to raise them-
selves to power by subverting the commonwealth. They
pursued their design, perhaps, with equal abilities and
equal virtue; but Catiline perished in the field, and Cæ-
sar returned from Pharsalia with unlimited authority;
and from that time, every monarch of the earth has
thought himself honoured by a comparison with Cæsar;
and Catiline has never been mentioned, but that his
name might be applied to traitors and incendiaries."
In the same Essay* he happily illustrates this subject
by a reference to the discovery of America, in the fol-
lowing terms." When Columbus had engaged King
Ferdinand in the discovery of the other hemisphere, the
sailors with whom he embarked in the expedition had
so little confidence in their commander, that, after having
been long at sea looking for coasts which they never ex-
pected to find, they raised a general mutiny and de-
manded to return. He found means to sooth them into
a permission to continue in the same course three days
longer, and on the evening of the third day descried land.
Had the impatience of his crew denied him a few hours
of the time requested, what had been his fate but to
have come back with the infamy of a vain projector, who
had betrayed the king's credulity to useless expenses, and
risked his life in seeking countries that had no existence ?
How would those that had rejected his proposals have
triumphed in their acuteness? and when would his name
have been mentioned but with the makers of potable
gold and malleable glass ?”
§ 304. Of adherence to our opinions.
Whenever the rules laid down have been followed,
and conclusions have been formed with a careful and
candid regard to the evidence presented, those opinions
are to be asserted and maintained with a due degree of
confidence. It would evince an unjustifiable weakness
to be driven from our honest convictions by the effront-
ery, or even by the upright, though misguided zeal of an
* See the Adventurer, No. 99.
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
381
opponent. Not that a person is to set himself up for in-
fallible, and to suppose that new accessions of evidence
are impossible, or that it is an impossibility for him to
have new views of the evidence already examined.
But a suitable degree of stability is necessary in order to
be respected and useful; and, in the case supposed, such
stability can be exhibited without incurring the charge
which is sometimes thrown out, of doggedness and intol-
erance.
It is further to be observed, that we are not always to
relinquish judgments which have been formed in the
way pointed out, when objections are afterward raised
which we cannot immediately answer. The person thus
attacked can, with good reason, argue in this way: I
have once examined the subject carefully and candidly;
the evidence, both in its particulars and in its multitude
of bearings, has had its weight; many minute and evan-
escent circumstances were taken into view by the mind,
which have now vanished from my recollection; I there-
fore do not feel at liberty to alter an opinion thus formed,
in consequence of an objection now brought up, which Í
am unable to answer, but choose to adhere to my present
judgment until the whole subject, including this objec-
tion, can be re-examined. This reasoning would in most
cases be correct, and would be entirely consistent with
that love of truth and openness to conviction which ought
ever to be maintained.
§ 305. Effects on the mind of debating for victory instead of truth.
By way of supporting the remarks under the first rule,
we here introduce the subject of contending for victory
merely. He who contends with this object takes every
advantage of his opponent which can subserve his own
purpose. For instance, he will demand a species of
proof or a degree of proof which the subject in dispute
does not admit; he gives, if possible, a false sense to the
words and statements employed by the other side; he
questions facts, which he himself fully believes and every-
body else, in the expectation that the opposite party is
not furnished with direct and positive evidence of them.
In a word, wherever an opening presents, he takes the
382
PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS IN REASONING.
utmost advantage of his opponent, however much against
his own internal convictions of right and justice.
us.
Such a course, to say nothing of its moral turpitude,
effectually unsettles that part of our mental economy
which concerns the grounds and laws of belief. The
practice of inventing cunningly-devised objections against
arguments known to be sound, necessarily impairs the in-
fluence which such arguments ought ever to exert over
Hence the remark has been made with justice, that
persons who addict themselves to this practice frequently
end in becoming skeptics. They have so often perplex-
ed, and apparently overthrown what they felt to be true,
they at last question the existence of any fixed grounds
of belief in the human constitution, and begin to doubt
of everything.
This effect, even when there is an undoubted regard
for the truth, will be found to follow from habits of ar-
dent disputation, unless there be a frequent recurrence to
the original principles of the mind which relate to the
nature and laws of belief. The learned Chillingworth is
an instance. The consequences to which the training up
of his vast powers to the sole art of disputation finally
led, are stated by Clarendon." Mr. Chillingworth had
spent all his younger time in disputations, and had ar-
rived at so great a mastery, that he was inferior to no
man in those skirmishes; but he had, with his notable
perfection in this exercise, contracted such an irresolution
and habit of doubting, that, by degrees, he grew confident
of nothing. Neither the books of his adversaries nor
any of their persons, though he was acquainted with the
best of both, had ever made great impression on him.
All his doubts grew out of himself, when he assisted his
scruples with all the strength of his own reason, and was
then too hard for himself."
IMAGINATION.
383
CHAPTER XIV.
IMAGINATION.
§ 206. Imagination an intellectual process, closely related to reasoning.
LEAVING the subject of reasoning, we next proceed to
the consideration of the Imagination; which, as well as
the reasoning power, obviously comes under the general
head of the Intellect rather than of the Sensibilities. It
is true, we are apt to associate the exercises of the heart
with those of the imagination, and undoubtedly we have
some reason for doing so; but in doing this we are lia-
ble not merely to associate, but to identify and confound
them. But they are, in fact, essentially different. An ex-
ercise of the Imagination, in itself considered, is purely
an intellectual process. The process may, indeed, be
stimulated and accelerated by a movement of the sensi-
bilities; there may be various extraneous influences op-
erating either to increase or to diminish its vivacity and
energy; but the process itself, considered separately from
contingent circumstances, is wholly intellectual. So that
he who possesses a creative and well-sustained imagina-
tion, may be said, with no small degree of truth, to pos-
sess a powerful intellect, whatever torpidity may charac-
terize the region of the affections.
The imagination is not only entitled to be ranked un-
der the general head of the Intellect, in distinction from
the Sensibilities, but it is to be remarked further, which
may, perhaps, have escaped the notice of some, that it
possesses, especially in the process or mode of its action,
a close affinity with the reasoning power. It is a remark
ascribed to D'Alembert, whose great skill in mathematics
would seem to justify his giving an opinion on such a sub-
ject, that the imagination is brought into exercise in geo-
metrical processes; which is probably true, so far as
some of the mental acts involved in imagination, such
as association and the perception of relations, are con-
cerned. And, in illustration of his views, he intimates, in
384
IMAGINATION.
the same connexion, that Archimedes the geometrician,
of all the great men of antiquity, is best entitled to be
placed by the side of Homer.* Certain it is, that, in
some important respects, there is an intimate relationship
between the powers in question, the deductive and imagi-
native. They both imply the antecedent exercise of the
power of abstraction; they are both occupied in framing
new combinations of thought from the elements already
in possession; they both put in requisition, and in pre-
cisely the same way, the powers of association and rela-
tive suggestion. But, at the same time, they are separa-
ted from each other and characterized by the two cir-
cumstances, that their objects are different, and that they
operate, in part, on different materials. Reasoning, as it
aims to give us a knowledge of the truth, deals exclu-
sively with facts more or less probable. Imagination, as
it aims chiefly to give pleasure, is at liberty to transcend
the limits of the world of reality, and, consequently, often
deals with the mere conceptions of the mind, whether
they correspond to reality or not. Accordingly, the one
ascertains what is true, the other what is possible; the
office of the one is to inquire, of the other to create;
reasoning is exercised within the limits of what is known
and actual, while the appropriate empire of the imagi-
nation is the region of the conjectural and conceivable.
§ 307. Definition of the power of imagination.
Without delaying longer upon the subject, which, how-
ever, is not without its importance, of the place which
imagination ought to occupy in a philosophical classifi-
cation of the mental powers, we next proceed to consid-
er more particularly what imagination is, and in what
manner it operates.-Imagination is a complex exercise
of the mind, by means of which various conceptions are
combined together so as to form new wholes. The con-
ceptions have properly enough been regarded as the ma-
terials from which the new creations are made; but it is
not until after the existence of those mental acts, which
are employed in every process of imagination, that they
* Stewart's Historical Dissertation, Prefatory Remarks.
IMAGINATION.
385
are fixed upon, detained, and brought out from their state
of singleness into happy and beautiful combinations.
Our conceptions have been compared to shapeless
stones as they exist in the quarry, which "require little
more than mechanic labour to convert them into com-
mon dwellings, but that rise into palaces and temples
only at the command of architectural genius." That
rude and little more than mechanic effort, which converts
the shapeless stones of the quarry into common dwell-
ings, may justly be considered, when divested of its met-
aphorical aspect, a correct representation of this mental
property, as it exists among the great mass of mankind
while the architectural genius which creates palaces and
temples is the well-furnished and sublime imagination of
poets, painters, and orators.
We speak of imagination as a complex mental opera-
tion, because it implies, in particular, the exercise of the
power of association in furnishing those conceptions
which are combined together; also the exercise of the
power of relative suggestion, by means of which the
combination is effected.
§ 308. Process of the mind in the creations of the imagination.
It
may assist us in more fully understanding the nature
of imagination if we endeavour to examine the intellect-
ual operations of one who makes a formal effort at wri-
ting, whether the production he has in view be poetical
or of some other kind.-A person cannot ordinarily be
supposed to sit down to write on any occasion whatever,
whether it involve a higher or less degree of the exer-
cise of the imagination, without having some general
idea of the subject to be written upon already in the
mind. The general idea, or the subject in its outlines,
must be supposed to be already present. He according-
ly commences the task before him with the expectation
and the desire of developing the subject more or less ful-
ly, of giving to it not only a greater continuity and a
better arrangement, but an increased interest in every re-
spect. As he feels interested in the topic which he pro-
poses to write upon, he can, of course, by a mere act of the
will, although he might not have been able, in the first
VOL. I.-K K
386
IMAGINATION.
instance, to have originated it by such an act, detain it
before him for a length of time.
Various conceptions continue, in the mean while, to
arise in the mind, on the common principles of associa-
tion; but, as the general outline of the subject remains
fixed, they all have a greater or less relation to it. And
partaking, in some measure, of the permanency of the out-
Îine to which they have relation, the writer has an op-
portunity to approve some and to reject others, according
as they impress him as being suitable or unsuitable to the
nature of the subject. Those which affect him with emo-
tions of pleasure, on account of their perceived fitness for
the subject, are retained and committed to writing; while
others, which do not thus affect and interest him, soon
fade away altogether.-Whoever carefully notices the
operations of his own mind when he makes an effort at
composition, will probably be well satisfied that this ac-
count of the intellectual process is very near the truth.
§ 309. Further remarks on the same subject.
The process, therefore, stated in the most simple and
concise terms, is as follows. We first think of some sub-
ject. With the original thought or design of the subject,
there is a coexistent desire to investigate it, to adorn it,
to present it to the examination of others. The effect of
this desire, followed and aided as it naturally is at such
times by an act of the will, is to keep the general sub-
ject in mind; and, as the natural consequence of the ex-
ercise of association, various conceptions arise, in some
-way or other related to the general subject. Of some of
these conceptions we approve in consequence of their
perceived fitness to the end in view, while we reject oth-
ers on account of the absence of this requisite quality of
agreeableness or fitness.
For the sake of convenience and brevity, we give the
name of IMAGINATION to this complex state or series of
states of the mind. It is important to possess a single
term expressive of the complex intellectual process; oth-
erwise, as we so frequently have occasion to refer to it in
common conversation, we should be subjected, if not
properly to a circumlocution, at least to an unnecessary
IMAGINATION.
387
multiplication of words. But, while we find it so much
for our convenience to make use of this term, we should
be careful and not impose upon ourselves, by ever re-
membering that it is the name, nevertheless, not of an
original and independent faculty, which of itself accom-
plishes all that has been mentioned, but of a complex or
combined action of a number of faculties.
§ 310. Illustration from the writings of Dr. Reid.
Dr. Reid (Essay iv., ch 4) gives the following graphi-
cal statement of the selection which is made by the wri-
ter from the variety of his constantly arising and depart-
ing conceptions." We seem to treat the thoughts, that
present themselves to the fancy in crowds, as a great
man treats those [courtiers] that attend his levee. They
are all ambitious of his attention. He goes round the cir-
cle, bestowing a bow upon one, a smile upon another;
asks a short question of a third, while a fourth is hon-
oured with a particular conference; and the greater part
have no particular mark of attention, but go as they
came. It is true, he can give no mark of his attention to
those who were not there, but he has a sufficient number
for making a choice and distinction.”
§ 311. Grounds of the preference of one conception to another.
A question after all arises, On what principle is the
mind enabled to ascertain that congruity or incongruity,
fitness or unfitness, agreeably to which it makes the se-
lection from its various conceptions? The fact is admit-
ted, that the intellectual principle is successively in a se-
ries of different states, or, in other words, that there are
successive conceptions or images; but the inquiry still re-
mains, Why is one image in the group thought or known
to be more worthy than any other image, or why are any
two images combined together in preference to any two
others?
The answer is, It is owing to no secondary law, but to
an instantaneous and original suggestion of fitness or un-
fitness. Those conceptions which, by means of this ori-
ginal power of perceiving the relations of things, are found
to be suitable to the general outlines of the subject, are
388
IMAGINATION.
detained. Those images which are perceived to possess
a peculiar congruity and fitness for each other are united
together, forming new and more beautiful compounds.
While others, although no directly voluntary power ap-
pears to be exercised over either class, are neglected, and
soon become extinct. But no account of this vivid feel-
ing of approval or disapproval, of this very rapid percep-
tion of the mutual congruity of the images for each other,
or for the general conception of the subject, can be given,
other than this, that with such a power the original Au-
thor of our intellectual susceptibilities has been pleased
to form us. This is our nature; here we find one of the
elements of our intellectual efficiency; without it we
might still be intellectual beings, but it would be with
the loss both of the reasoning power and of the imagi-
nation.
§ 312. Illustration of the subject from Milton.
What has been said can perhaps be made plainer by
considering in what way Milton must have proceeded in
forming his happy description of the garden of Eden.
He had formed, in the first place, some general outlines
of the subject; and as it was one which greatly interest-
ed his feelings, the interest which was felt tended to keep
the outlines steadily before him. If the feeling of inter-
est was not sufficient to keep the general subject before
the mind, he could hardly fail to detain it there by add-
ing the influence of a direct and decisive act of the will.
Then the principles of association, which are ever at
work, brought up a great variety of conceptions, having
a relation of some kind to those general features; such
as conceptions of rocks, and woods, and rivers, and green
leaves, and golden fruit.
The next step was the exercise of that power which
we have of perceiving relations, which we sometimes de-
nominate the Judgment, but more appropriately the sus-
ceptibility or power of Relative Suggestion. By means
of this he was at once able to determine whether the
conceptions which were suggested were suitable to the
general design of the description and to each other, and
whether they would have, when combined together to
IMAGINATION.
389
form one picture, a pleasing effect. Accordingly, those
which were judged most suitable were combined togeth-
er as parts of the imaginary creation, and were detained
and fixed by means of that feeling of interest and those
acts of the will which were at first exercised towards the
more prominent outlines merely; while others speedily
disappeared from the mind. And thus arose an imagi-
nary landscape, glowing with a greater variety and rich-
ness of beauty, more interesting and perfect in every re-
spect, than we can ever expect to find realized in nature.
§ 313. The creations of imagination not entirely voluntary.
From the explanation which has been given of the op-
erations of the power under consideration, it will be seen
that in its action it is subject to limitations and restric-
tions. The opinion that even persons of the most ready
and fruitful imagination can form new imaginary crea-
tions whenever they choose by a mere volition, however
widely it may have prevailed, does not appear to be well-
founded. In accordance with what may be regarded as
the common opinion, we will suppose, as an illustration
of what we mean, that a person wills to imagine a sea of
melted brass, or an immense body of liquid matter which
has that appearance. The very expressions, it will be
noticed, are nugatory and without meaning, since the sea
of brass which the person wills to conceive of or imagine
is, by the very terms of the proposition, already present
to his thoughts. Whatever a person wills, or, rather,
professes to will to imagine, he has, in fact, already im-
agined; and, consequently, there can be no such thing as
imaginations which are exclusively the result of a direct
act of the will. So that the powers of invention, al-
though the influence of the indirect and subordinate ac-
tion of the will may be considerable, must be aroused
and quickened to their highest efforts in some other way.
And this view admits of some practical applications.
Men of the greatest minds (great, we mean, in the walks
of literature) are kept in check by the principles which
are involved in the exercise of imagination. Genius,
whatever capabilities we may attribute to it, has its laws.
And it is true, in regard to every standard work of the
KK 2
390
IMAGINATION.
1
imagination, that it is the result, not of an arbitrary and
unexplainable exercise of that power, but of a multitude
of circumstances prompting and regulating its action;
such as the situation in life, early education, domestic
habits, associates, reading, scenery, religion, and the in-
fluence of local superstitions and traditionary incidents.
These are like the rain and sunshine to the earth, without
which it necessarily remains in its original barrenness,
giving no signs of vivification and beauty. In the mat-
ter of creative power Bunyan will bear a comparison un-
doubtedly with Walter Scott; but Scott, in the situation
in which he was placed, and with the habits of thought
and feeling which he cherished, could not have written
the Pilgrim's Progress; nor could Bunyan, on the other
hand, have written the Heart of Mid Lothian; not be-
cause either of them was destitute of the requisite degree
of imagination, but because the creations of the imagi-
nation always have a relation to circumstances, and are
not the result of a purely arbitrary act of the will.
§ 314. Illustration of the statements of the preceding section.
It would be an easy matter, and not without interest,
to illustrate this fact in the operations of the mind by a
reference to the private history of those individuals from
whom the great works of literature have originated. But,
as this does not come within our plan, we will refer mere-
ly to a single instance.-Moore relates, in his life of Lord
Byron, that on a certain occasion he found him occupied
with the history of Agathon, a romance by Wieland.
And, from some remarks made at the time, he seems to be
of opinion that Byron was reading the work in question
as a means of furnishing suggestions to, and of quicken-
ing his own imaginative powers. He then adds, "I am
inclined to think it was his practice, when engaged in
the composition of any work, to excite his vein by the
perusal of others on the same subject or plan, from which
the slightest hint caught by his imagination as he read
was sufficient to kindle there such a train of thought as
but for that spark had never been awakened."
This is said of a distinguished poet. Painting is an
art kindred with poetry, and both are based on the im-
1
IMAGINATION.
391
t
agination. Accordingly, the remarks which have been
made apply also to painting, and, indeed, to every other
art which depends essentially on the imaginative power.
Invention," says Sir Joshua Reynolds, "is one of the
great marks of genius; but, if we consult experience,
we shall find that it is by being conversant with the in-
ventions of others that we learn to invent, as by reading
the thoughts of others we learn to think. It is in vain
for painters or poets to endeavour to invent without ma-
terials on which the mind may work, and from which in-
vention must originate. Nothing can come of nothing.
Homer is supposed to have been possessed of all the
learning of his time; and we are certain that Michael
Angelo and Raffaelle were equally possessed of all the
knowledge in the art which had been discovered in the
works of their predecessors."*
§ 315. On the utility of the faculty of the imagination.
We have proceeded thus far in endeavouring to ex-
plain the nature of imagination; and we here turn aside.
from this general subject for the purpose of remarking on
the utility of this power. And this appears to be neces-
sary, since there are some who seem disposed to preju-
dice its claims in that respect. They warmly recommend
the careful culture of the memory, the judgment, and the
reasoning power, but look coldly and suspiciously on the
imagination, and would rather encourage a neglect of it.
But there is ground for apprehending that a neglect of
this noble faculty in any person who aspires to a full de-
velopement and growth of the mind, cannot be justified
either by considerations drawn from the nature of the
mind itself, or by the practical results of such a course.
In speaking on the utility of the imagination, it is cer-
tainly a very natural reflection, that the Creator had some
design or purpose in furnishing men with it, since we
find universally that he does nothing in vain. And what
design could he possibly have, if he did not intend that
it should be employed, that it should be rendered active,
and trained up with a suitable degree of culture? But
if we are thus forced upon the conclusion that this facul-
* Discourses before the Royal Academy, VI.
392
IMAGINATION.
=======
ty was designed to be rendered active, we must further
suppose that its exercise was designed to promote some
useful purpose. And such, although it has sometimes
been perverted, has been the general result.
Nowhere is the power of imagination seen to better
advantage than in the Prophets of the Old Testament.
If it be said that those venerable writers were inspired,
it will still remain true that this was the faculty of the
mind which inspiration especially honoured by the use
which was made of it. And how many monuments may
every civilized nation boast of, in painting, architecture,
and sculpture, as well as in poetry, where the imagina-
tion, in contributing to the national glory, has at the
same time contributed to the national happiness! Many
an hour it has beguiled by the new situations it has de-
picted and the new views of human nature it has dis-
closed; many a pang of the heart it has subdued, either
by introducing us to greater woes which others have suf-
fered, or by intoxicating the memory with its luxuriance,
and lulling it into a forgetfulness of ourselves; many a
good resolution it has cherished, and subtending, as it
were, a new and wider horizon around the intellectual
being, has filled the soul with higher conceptions and
inspired it with higher hopes. Conscious of its immortal
destiny, and struggling against the bounds that limit it,
the soul enters with joy into those new and lofty crea-
tions which it is the prerogative of the imagination to
form; and they seem to it a congenial residence. Such
are the views which obviously present themselves on the
slightest consideration of this subject; and it is not
strange, therefore, that we find in the writings of no less
a judge than Addison, some remarks to this effect, that a
refined imagination "gives a man a kind of property in
everything he sees, and makes the most rude, unculti-
vated parts of nature administer to his pleasures; so that
he looks upon the world, as it were, in another light, and
discovers in it a multitude of charms that conceal them-
selves from the generality of mankind."
X
:
§ 316. Works of imagination give different degrees of pleasure.
Disposed as we are, however, to maintain the high
IMAGINATION.
393
rank of the imagination as compared with other powers
of the mind, and not only its high rank, but its utility,
we do not deny that different persons experience differ-
ent degrees of pleasure from that source. Poetry, for
instance, is one of the results of the imagination; and
although it is generally regarded as a highly pleasing as
well as useful art, we nevertheless find that all persons
do not possess the same relish for its beauties. But the
fault does not appear to be so much in the art, or the
powers of imagination which give existence to the art,
as in those to whom it is addressed. The pleasure which
is felt by a reader of poetry (and similar remarks will ap-
ply to other efforts of the imagination) will in general de-
pend upon two circumstances: (1.) the liveliness of his
own imagination; (2.) the conformity of his experience to
the things described.
The pleasure which is felt by a reader of poetry will
depend in part, in the first place, on the liveliness of his
own imagination.-In poems the different parts are only
imperfectly filled up; some describe more minutely than
others; but the most minute describers only trace the out-
lines. These remain, therefore, to be filled up by the
reader. But the ability to do this is found in very differ-
ent degrees in different persons; some very rapidly and
admirably finish the picture, and others do not. The lat-
ter, consequently, remain in a considerable degree unaf-
fected, and perhaps condemn the poem as deficient in in-
terest; while the former read it with great feeling and
pleasure.
The pleasure will depend, in the second place, on the
conformity of the reader's experience to the things de-
scribed. If the scene of the poem is laid in the country,
and deals exclusively in the toils, and sorrows, and joys of
country life, it would not be unreasonable to anticipate
that it might not excite any decided interest in those who
never had any actual experience of that kind. It will
probably be conceded that few poems, and perhaps none,
have met with a more favourable reception, and have
touched more deeply the universal sensibility, than the
Cotter's Saturday Night of Burns. It is certainly a most.
admirable picture of domestic life, such as may some-
F
394
IMAGINATION.
times be found among a poor and virtuous peasantry,
with its little touching incidents of joy, and hope, and
grief, of friendship and religious faith. It can hardly fail
to be pleasing to all, but how much more so to those who
had their birth and were brought up in the cottages of
Scotland; who trod in early life her rugged hills, and
mingled in the rural toils of her peasantry; and in whose
bosoms every incident of the poem awakens some affect-
ing recollections. Burns himself was by no means igno-
rant of the additional pleasure which arises under these
circumstances. "He was passionately fond," says Du-
gald Stewart," of the beauties of nature; and I recollect
once he told me, when I was admiring a distant prospect
in one of our morning walks, that the sight of so many
smoking cottages gave a pleasure to his mind, which
none could understand who had not witnessed, like him-
self, the happiness and the worth which they contained.”*
-While, therefore, we do not hesitate to assert the util
ity of the imagination and the adaptedness of its more
successful creations to give a high degree of pleasure, we
do not suppose, for the reasons mentioned in this section
and for others which might be mentioned, that these
views will answer equally well to the experience, or com-
mend themselves equally to the judgment of all.
§ 317. Importance of the imagination in connexion with reasoning.
In remarking on the subject of the utility of the ima-
gination, there is one important point of view in which
it is capable of being considered; that of the relation of
the imagination to the other intellectual powers. And,
among other things, there is obviously ground for the re-
mark, that a vigorous and well-disciplined imagination
may be made subservient to promptness, and clearness,
and success in reasoning. The remark is made, it will
be noticed, on the supposition of the imagination being
well disciplined, which implies that it is under suitable
control; otherwise it will rather encumber and perplex
than afford aid.
Take, for instance, two persons, one of whom has cul-
tivated the reasoning power, exclusive of the imagina-
* See the letter of Mr. Stewart in Currie's Life of Burns.
IMAGINATION.
395
tion. We will suppose him to possess very deservedly
the reputation of an able and weighty dialectician; but
it will be obvious to the slightest observation, that there
is, in one respect, a defect and failure; there is an evi-
dent want of selection and vivacity in the details of his
argument. He cannot readily appreciate the relation
which the hearer's mind sustains to the facts which he
wishes to present; and, accordingly, with much expense
of patience on their part, he laboriously and very scru-
pulously takes up and examines everything which can
come within his grasp, and bestows upon everything
nearly an equal share of attention. And hence it is, that
many persons who are acknowledged to be learned, dili-
gent, and even successful in argument, at the same time
sustain the reputation, which is by no means an enviable
one, of being dull, tiresome, and uninteresting.
Let us now look a moment at another person, who is
not only a man of great powers of ratiocination, but has
cultivated his imagination, and has it under prompt and
judicious command. He casts his eye rapidly over the
whole field of argument, however extensive it may be,
and immediately perceives what facts are necessary to be
stated and what are not; what are of prominent, and
what of subordinate importance; what will be easily un-
derstood and possess an interest, and what will be diffi-
cult to be appreciated, and will also lose its due value
from a want of attraction. And he does this on the
same principle, and in virtue of the same mental train-
ing, which enables the painter, architect, sculptor, and
poet to present the outlines of grand and beautiful crea-
tions in their respective arts. There is a suitableness in
the different parts of the train of reasoning; a corre-
spondence of one part to another; a great and combined
effect, enhanced by every suitable decoration, and undi-
minished by any misplaced excrescence, which undoubt-
edly implies a perfection of the imagination, in some de-
gree kindred with that which projected the group of the
Laocoon, crowned the hills of Greece with statues and
temples, and lives in the works of renowned poets. The
debater who combines the highest results of reasoning
with the highest results of the imagination, throws the
396
IMAGINATION.
light of his own splendid conceptions around the radi-
ance of truth; so that brightness shines in the midst of
brightness, like the angel of the Apocalypse in the sun.
§ 318. Of misconceptions by means of the imagination.
But while it is safe to admit that the imagination may
be made subservient to valuable purposes, it is no less
true that it may sometimes mislead us. The following
are instances, among others, where this is the result.
Our admiration of the great may be reckoned a preju-
dice of the imagination. We are apt to suppose them
possessed of personal attractions, and of the highest hap-
piness; and not only this, to invest them with every wor-
thy moral attribute. "The misfortunes," says a late wri-
ter, "of Mary Queen of Scots, and of her descendant,
Prince Charles Edward, commanded the sympathy, the
love, and the enthusiasm of millions. In the cause of
these princes, how many have joyfully sacrificed life,
though neither of them was worthy or capable of reign-
ing! How many labour still to blot out every stain from
their memory! And yet every individual, in the circle
of his own private friends and acquaintances, can un-
doubtedly find many persons more distinguished for vir-
tue, for good principles, for integrity of character, than
the prince for whom he is willing to lay down his life;
but a friend, a private man, is invested with none of those
attributes, always dazzling but often false, which are cal-
culated to strike the imagination.'
""
Our imaginations mislead us also in respect to war,
whenever we contemplate it at a distance, and do not
feel its effects at our own firesides and homes. We de-
light to dwell upon the idea of mighty power which it
suggests; we recall to memory the homage and plaudits
which have been given to the brave; we combine to-
gether conceptions of all that is stirring in music and
brilliant in equipage. In a word, it is a kindling imagi-
nation, seizing upon some imposing circumstances, that
leads multitudes into deplorable mistakes as to the char-
acter of that great scourge of the human race.-Again :
the power of imagination often gives a wrong colouring
to future life. It is here as in some prospects in natural
scenery,
IMAGINATION.
397
"Tis distance lends enchantment to the view."
Whatever may be our present evils, we imagine there
is good to come. We rush forward in the pursuit of it
like children, who set out with spirited emulation, ex-
pecting to grasp in their hands the splendours of the
rainbow, that appears to them to rest upon the neigh
bouring hills.
319. Explanation of the above misrepresentations of the imagination.
But how happens it that this faculty, in these and oth-
er similar instances, sometimes misleads us? What ex-
planation can be given ?-The answer is, that the mind.
turns away with a natural aversion from whatever causes
it pain or uneasiness; delighting to dwell on the ele-
ments of beauty and sublimity, and, in general, on all
scenes which excite in it pleasant emotions. As there is,
therefore, more or less in all actual situations which
causes dissatisfaction, we shall always find, in every con-
dition in which we are placed, something which detracts
from what we imagine to be the sum of happiness. The
evils which are around us and near us, we MUST know; our
situation forbids an attempt at the concealment of them.
Every day forces the lesson of human adversity on our
attention. But when we look abroad from the reality
which exists at home, from the cares and sorrows which
are ever near at hand, to other scenes and prospects, we
do not think of trial and disappointment, because we are
not obliged to. We fix our attention upon those circum-
cumstances which appear most favourable and interest-
ing; and, consequently, know nothing of the uneasiness
and misery which actually exist in the imaginary para-
dise of our creation. For instance, we are apt to associ-
ate, as has been remarked, with persons in very high sta-
tions of life, the ideas of unalloyed happiness, of moral
excellence, of manliness and beauty of form; but while
men in the most exalted stations have no less a share than
others of bodily deformities and suffering, they have still
greater anxieties; their hours of sorrow are often more
numerous than those of any other class of persons. It
was well inquired by King Henry in Shakspeare,
VOL. I.-L L
398
IMAGINATION.
"What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect,
That private men enjoy?
And what have kings, that privates have not too,
Save ceremony, save general ceremony ?"
And under the direction of the same mental tendency
by which we are led to mark the elevations without no-
ticing the depressions of the great men of the earth, we
are led also to see the sublimities and hide from our sight
the degradations and miseries of war, to behold the sun-
shine of the future, but no clouds.
§ 320. Feelings of sympathy aided by the imagination.
But where the imagination is not at liberty to fix itself
exclusively upon pleasing circumstances, the results as to
the degree of creative power are the same, although they
are of a different kind. In the one case it forms crea-
tions of beauty, magnificence, sublimity; in the other it
is equally efficacious in combining images of gloom and
suffering. Hence a quick and powerful imagination is
no small aid in the exercise of the sympathetic feelings.
Accordingly, when two men (the one a person of imagi-
nation, the other not) meet a poor man who has suddenly
been reduced to poverty, they will be found to have dif-
ferent degrees of sympathy for him. The latter, no doubt,
will pity the unfortunate man; but the former will pity
him more. He will think of his former situation; he will
follow him to his dwelling; he will see in his " prophetic
eye" the tears of his family; in a word, he will, as a
general statement, have more feeling for all individuals.
in suffering, and, consequently, be more likely to lend his
aid to alleviate it.
Thus, in Sterne's Sentimental Journey, he is led by
some circumstance to think of a captive in one of the
French State Prisons. He gives the reins to his imagi-
nation, “and looks through the twilight of the grated
door to take the picture.-I beheld," says he, " his body
half wasted with long expectation and confinement, and
felt what kind of sickness of the heart it is which arises
from hope deferred. Upon looking nearer, I saw him
pale and feverish. In thirty years the western breeze
had not fanned his blood. He had seen no sun, no moon,
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
399
in all that time; nor had the voice of friend or kinsman
breathed through his lattice.-His children-but here
my heart began to bleed, and I was forced to go on with
another part of the portrait."
CHAPTER XV.
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
§ 321. Of complex ideas of external origin.
It will be recollected that, in considering that portion
of our knowledge which has an external origin, our men-
tal states were examined in relation to their Simplicity
and Complexness. The names of colours, as red, white,
yellow, green, &c., were spoken of as being expressive
of simple ideas, or, rather, of simple sensations. The
character of simplicity belongs also to the original inti-
mations of the touch, and to the original sensations of the
hearing, smell, and taste. Other names, as loadstone,
tree, sun, gold, and the like, were referred to as express-
ive of complex notions. It was laid down as charac-
teristic of simple notions, that they are one and insepar-
able, while such as are complex embrace any number of
simple ideas more than one.
In our
But in respect to complex notions of an external ori-
gin, there is this further and obvious characteristic.
When they are ascertained with suitable care, they are
just what the forms of external nature have constituted
them, being neither more nor less extensive.
complex notions, for instance, of a loadstone, a tree, the
sun, animal, man, horse, gold, &c., we embrace precise-
ly what nature has allotted to the objects themselves;
that is to say, if our complex ideas in these particular
cases be properly and fully formed. Nature, as she ex-
ists external to the mind, has placed a limit on combina-
tions of this kind which we are clearly not at liberty to
disregard.
400
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
I
§ 322. Nature of complex ideas of internal origin.
But in considering, as we do at present, that portion of
our knowledge which is not directly dependant on exter-
nal objects, we are naturally led to remark on complex
notions of internal origin. Complex ideas of this de-
scription are like all others, in being composed of ele-
mentary parts which are simple. Original Suggestion,
Consciousness, Relative Suggestion, and the Reasoning
power, which are the great sources of internal knowl-
edge, are all fountains of new simple views. A multi-
tude of thoughts, unknown to the mind before, arise
from these various sources, which are not susceptible of
being resolved into others more elementary. But, while
we cannot resolve, we are able to combine them in a va-
riety of ways almost endless.
But the prominent characteristic of the complex men-
tal states now under consideration is not that the ele-
mentary parts come in a great degree from these sour-
ces; it is rather the mind's agency in forming them. We
are not limited, in the process of combination, by any
precise complication of qualities in outward objects, which
is the fact in respect to complex notions of external ori-
gin; but may bring together ideas of the same or of dif
ferent kinds, and may form new wholes of every imagi-
nable description. Such new notions, considered in ref-
erence to what they are in their complex state, are pure-
ly creatures of the mind, fashioned by the mind's choice,
and capable of being altered, according to the mere dic-
tates of that choice, into every degree of enlargement
and diminution, and into every novelty of aspect. It is
on this ground chiefly that they are characterized as be-
ing of internal rather than of external origin.
§ 323. Of complex notions formed by the repetition of the same thing
In some instances we find the same ideas repeated a
greater or less number of times, and susceptible of en-
largement and variety by the mere addition or multipli-
cation of itself. By means of such repetition we become
possessed of various complex notions, which are distin-
guished from others merely in being modifications of the
same original thought, carried on to a greater or less ex-
tent, but without any intermixture of foreign materials.
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
401
Of the ideas of this class are such as are expressed by
the words hour, day, week, month, and year; which are
framed by the modification, and the adding together, as
it were, of our elementary notions of time. Artificial
measures of extension, such as an inch, foot, yard, fur-
long, and mile, although they are based upon something
which is directly addressed to the outward senses, are
nevertheless, in themselves considered, the arbitrary cre-
ations of the mind, and, of course, belong here.-To this
class also belong the complex ideas of number, as a doz-
en, a score, a hundred, a thousand, which are formed by
the repeated addition of units, as far as the collections
specified by those names.
The origin of the elementary notion of unity or one-
ness was explained on a former occasion; and it is not
only one of the earliest, but one of the most distinct no-
tions men have. This simple elementary idea lays the
foundation of all the numerous and diversified combina-
tions of numbers. And it is worthy of remark, that
these combinations, although they are carried to a won-
derful extent, are exceedingly distinct in the mind's con-
ception of them, so as to be but seldom confounded with
each other, or attended with any perplexity. There is,
for instance, no confusion and indistinctness in the com-
plex idea expressed by the word MILLION, although it
might not be unreasonable to expect it when we consid-
er the vast number of subordinate parts embraced in it.
But this is owing, in part, to certain facilities afforded to
the mind by the numerical signs used, and by language
in particular.
§ 324. Of the help afforded by names in the combination of numbers.
A certain writer remarks on the skilful formation of
the names of numbers, and on the assistance afforded by
them, in the following terms.-" And here we may take
notice of a wonderful artifice made use of by the mind to
facilitate and help itself forward in its conceptions. For,
as the advance from number to number is endless, were
they all to be distinguished by different denominations
that had no connexion or dependance one upon another,
the multitude of them must soon overcharge the memory,
LL 2
402
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
and render it impossible for us to go any great way in
the progress of numbering. For this reason it is so con-
trived, that the change of names is restrained to a few of
the first combinations, all the rest that follow being mark-
ed by a repetition of the same terms, variously com-
pounded and linked together. Thus thirteen is ten and
three; fourteen, ten and four; and so on to twenty or two
tens, when we begin again with one, two, &c., until we
advance to thirty, or three tens. In this manner the pro-
gression continues; and when we arrive at ten tens, to
prevent confusion by a too frequent repetition of the
same word, that sum is distinguished by the name of a
hundred. Again, ten hundred is called a thousand, at
which period the computation begins anew, running
through all the former combinations, as ten thousand, a
hundred thousand, ten hundred thousand; which last col-
lection, for the reasons mentioned above, has the name of
million appropriated to it. With this million we can be-
gin as before, until it is repeated a million of times;
when, if we change the denomination to billions, and
advance in the same manner through trillions, quartil-
lions, &c., the series may be carried on without confusion
to any length we please.
"This artful combination of names to mark the gradual
increase of numbers, is perhaps one of the greatest re-
finements of the human understanding, and particularly
deserves our admiration for the manner of the composi-
tion; the several denominations being so contrived as to
distinguish exactly the stages of the progression, and
point out the distance from the beginning of the series.
By this means it happens that our ideas of numbers are
of all others the most accurate and distinct; nor does
the multitude of units assembled together in the least
puzzle or confound the understanding
*
§ 325. Instances of complex notions made up of different simple ideas.
The instances which have been given will perhaps be
sufficient in illustration of those complex notions where
* Duncan's Elements of Logic, bk. i., chap. 4.-The same subject
is examined also and illustrated by Mr. Locke in that part of his Essay
which treats of Mixed Modes.
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
403
the combination is limited to one original element. And
we shall now proceed to the consideration of those cases
where the act of combining is of a more complicated
kind; and these are much more numerous than the oth-
ers. Men are necessarily led, according to their manner
of life, their situation and wants, to frame such perma-
nent collections of simple ideas as experience has ascer-
tained to be useful and necessary. They even frame
such complex notions, in many cases, without waiting to
be guided by experience, but in anticipation of what may
possibly take place at some future time; or frame them,
not unfrequently, as the mere exercise of invention. And
as they advance in knowledge, and make improvements
in the arts and sciences, they are necessarily led into
complicated views of things, which would otherwise not
offer themselves to their notice.
A few instances will help to illustrate what has been
said. The word THEFT is the name of a complex notion.
It may perhaps be defined a change of property without
the consent of the owner, and with fraudulent intentions
on the part of the person who removes it. Consequently,
it embraces, among other ideas differing from each other,
those of ownership, evil design, transference, and the
withholding of consent. If, however, we fully and mi-
nutely resolve it into its parts, we shall undoubtedly find
elements not purely of an internal kind. And it is proper
to make the general remark here, which has already
been in part anticipated, that very many complex notions
embrace elements, a part of which are addressed to the
senses, and are, consequently, of an external origin, while
others have their origin wholly in the mind. But while
the elements, in many cases of internal complex notions,
are partly of external origin, the selection and arrange-
ment of them is wholly a mental work. Accordingly,
while the complex terms GOLD, LOADSTONE, IRON, and oth-
ers like them, embrace just what nature has allotted to
the objects themselves, without the liability of increase or
diminution from the mere arbitrary choice of men, the
complex term THEFT, and all others like it, includes
(whether it be more or less) what the human mind has
agreed upon and assigned to it, and is liable to be mod-
404
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
ified from the same cause. The word LEGISLATION also is
the name of a complex idea of internal origin, implying
the existence of a number of elements of thought, which
are arbitrarily brought together and united by the mind,
such as the existence of civil society, the formation of
government, the delegation of power to certain individ-
uals, and the exercise of that power in the making of
laws.-The word TREASON implies the notions of country,
government, law, obligation, agent, and violation of law;
while PATRIOTISM, on the other hand, includes, in connex-
ion with the ideas of country, government, and law, the
notions of obedience, respect, and love, and the disposi-
tion to make great sacrifices in consequence of such love.
It is needless further to multiply instances in this place,
since they make a great portion of every language, and
Notions thus
will readily occur to the recollection.
formed, as they are the creations of the mind, are un-
doubtedly liable to be altered by it; and are, in fact, not
unfrequently so, although there is in general a good de-
gree of permanency. The combination, it will be recol-
lected, is not formed in the first instance without a good
reason; and while the circumstances which at first re-
quired its formation remain, the complex notion will be
likely to remain also. And not only this; there is a
great security of the permanency of the complex notion
in the mere name itself. The name is fixed upon the
thought, as the seal upon the wax; every time we see it,
or have it brought to our notice in any other way, the
precise combination of ideas which makes up the com-
plex notion is suggested to the mind. Every repetition
of this suggestion strengthens the bond of complexity,
and diminishes the liability of its being rent asunder, or
altered in any way whatever.
§ 326. Not the same internal complex ideas in all languages.
It is proper to repeat the remark here, that the origin
of complex notions will depend in a great measure on
the situation and the exigences of men; and that, conse-
quently, the words employed in different languages will
often fail of precisely corresponding to each other. This
is the natural and unavoidable result of the differences
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
405
which, in different countries, exist in customs, habits,
scenery, occupations, modes of thinking, and political in-
stitutions. Every language, therefore, as a matter of ne-
cessity, has not only its own terms and idioms expressive
of the ordinary mass of ideas common to all men, but
has some which are peculiar to itself, and to which there
is nothing precisely corresponding in other languages.
Thus the words CORBAN in the Hebrew, OSTRAKISMOS in
the Greek, PROSCRIPTIO in the Latin, and ROTURIER in the
French,* express ideas to which most other nations find
nothing precisely answering, and, consequently, have no
corresponding words.
This diversity will be manifest, not only in a few scat-
tering terms, but will more or less be characteristic of
whole departments of science. If, for instance, we make
the laws of a country the subject of our examination, we
shall readily see how mental perceptions and their com-
binations have been modified by circumstances; and that
terms are used, expressive of such peculiarities in the
people's views, principles, and practices, which cannot be
understood without a particular study of their origin and
their applications. It is certainly not too much to say
that there are many languages in which an English book
of law could not be written; and many of those who
speak them would be unable to understand and appreciate
it, if it could be. Their minds have not been cast in the
mould of Englishmen ; they have not been trained, from
the moment they were capable of any mental discrimina-
tion whatever, to the recognition of personal rights, and
the distinctions and rights of property.
This suggests a remark on the changes which take
place in languages. It is well known that there are fre-
quent alterations in the customs of a people, and also in
their feelings and opinions, and hence there necessarily
arise corresponding changes in the combinations of
thought or ideas, and these must, in many cases, be ex-
pressed by new names. If people should be found un-
willing or unable to invent new names for the expression

* "We have no English word," says Hallam, "that expresses the
sense of roturier. How glorious is this deficiency in our political lan-
guage, and how different are the ideas suggested by commoner !”
406
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
of new complex ideas, they would evidently be subjected
to great inconvenience. This may be seen if we deprive
ourselves of the benefit of any complex terms, for in-
stance, reprieve, appeal, inherit, adjudicate, legislate, and
the like, and then attempt to converse on the subjects
where they naturally occur.
§ 327. Origin of the complex notion of a Supreme Being.
In connexion with the views of this chapter, it is prop-
er to add, that we find here, more properly than anywhere
else, the origin of the notion of a God. We have already
had occasion to assert (§ 45) that there is no ground for
the position that this idea is INNATE; and it will not be
deemed necessary to repeat here the considerations on
that subject which were then advanced. There is, in
some important respects, a foundation for this idea in the
mind, but it is introduced by degrees, and was not origi-
nally created there.
The propriety of considering the formation of this com-
plex notion in this place will at once be obvious. If
there were any outward likeness of the Supreme Being;
if he were addressed to our senses in the shape of the
sun, moon, or stars, or anything else which the eyes of
men have seen or the hands of men have fashioned, this
would not be the place to resume the consideration of this
topic, but it should have been treated of under the head
of notions of an External origin. But it is far otherwise;
God is a spirit, and his representative, or that which cor-
responds to him in others, is not in outward nature, but
in the inward contemplation. His image arises and
shines in the intellects he has created, and the emotions
of the heart bow down and worship it.
-
The idea of the Supreme Being is a complex one,
made up of many subordinate parts, such as the ideas of
wisdom, truth, justice, power, benevolence, and causa-
tion; and all these enlarged and expanded to correspond
with the notions of infinity. The mind gathers these
subordinate conceptions from within and without; from
the works of nature and from its own structure; from the
world of intellect and feeling, and the world of matter.
Ranging abroad in the great creation both of the spirit-
COMPLEX IDEAS OF INTERNAL ORIGIN.
407
ual and the material handiworks of the Most High, it
finds one elementary thought here and another there, and
perceiving the necessity of their approach and union in
one independent existence, it is in this way that the vast
and exalted conception we are considering results from
their combination.
It is probably owing to this method of its origin that
the complex notion of a Supreme being is so different in
different nations. Where the moral views of the people
are wanting in elevation, and the notions they form of
truth, wisdom, and justice in particular, are low and in-
adequate, the combined or complex notion of a God,
which embraces these elementary parts, will be depress-
ed to a correspondence with its elements. And, on the
other hand, wherever we find the perception of the hu-
man intellect not only highly purified and enlightened by
human culture, but raised and guided also by the Holy
Scriptures, we shall find a comprehensive and transcend-
ent idea of the Deity, correspondent, in some good de-
gree, to the glorious reality it expresses. For such a
Being, and thus distinctly revealed to us in the soul," we
may cherish," in the words of Degerando, "the most au-
gust love which the heart of a creature can conceive;
adoration, mingled with gratitude and confidence, finding
its true and inexhaustible object in the source of infinite
perfection, in the image of an eternal Benefactor."
DIVISION FIRST.
THE INTELLECT OR UNDERSTANDING.
INTELLECTIVE OR INTELLECTUAL STATES OF THE MIND.
PART THIRD.
IMPERFECT AND DISORDERED INTELLECTUAL
ACTION.
VOL. I.-M M
CHAPTER I.
CONNEXION OF THE MIND AND BODY.
§ 328. Disordered intellectual action connected with the body.
HAVING Completed our examination of the Intellect, so
far as it presents itself to our notice in its more frequent
and regular action, we now propose to conclude the sub-
ject by giving some instances of intellectual states which
appear to take place in violation of its ordinary princi-
ples.* Whatever anticipations we might have been dis-
posed to form A PRIORI, in relation to the action of the
mind, it is a matter abundantly confirmed by painful ex-
perience and observation, that its operations are not al-
ways uniform; and that in some cases, as we shall have
occasion to see, it exhibits an utter and disastrous devia-
tion from the laws which commonly regulate it. The
causes of these deviations it may not be easy always, and
in all respects, to explain; but it is well understood that
they are frequently connected with an irregular and dis-
eased condition of the body. There may be, and there
undoubtedly are, other causes more remote from common
observation, and more intimately connected with the in-
terior nature and the more secret springs of mental ac-
tion; but this does not preclude a distinct and particular
attention to one so obvious, and by general concession so
powerful, as that which we now refer to. Accordingly,
it will be the object of the few remarks embraced in this
Chapter, and as introductory, in some degree, to what
follows on the subject of disordered intellectual action, to
* NOTE.—The subject of Disordered Mental Action is one undoubt-
edly of great interest; but it is also one of no small difficulty. We
have endeavoured in another volume (No. c. of Harpers' Family Li-
brary) to examine the subject at greater length. The chapters which
are introduced here, together with some others having relation to the
same general subject of Disordered Mental Action, are merely abridg-
ments of what is to be found there. And to that volume, the reader
who wishes for more particular information may perhaps properly be
referred.
412
CONNEXION OF THE MIND AND BODY.
show by some statements and illustrations the connexion
existing between the body and mind, and the influence
they reciprocally exert.
329. The mind constituted on the principle of a connexion with the
body.
In endeavouring to illustrate the subject of the inti-
mate connexion and the reciprocal influence of the mind
and body, the first remark is, that the mind is evidently
constituted on the principle of such a connexion. What-
ever expansion the mind may afterward attain to, what-
ever greatness of power it may exhibit in the progress
of its subsequent developement, there is no doubt that it
possesses the seeds of its power and the elements of its
expansion in the very beginnings of its existence. They
are there, although at first they do not manifest them-
selves. They have an existence, although they are in
some sense invisible and unappreciable. They are not
only in silence and in darkness, but, in themselves con-
sidered, and independently of aid from other sources,
they appear to be destitute of any capability of quicken-
ing into action and of bursting forth into light.
And how does this happen? Evidently because the
mind is constituted on the principle of a connexion with
the body. The human mind (and this is probably true
of every mind that is morally accountable) exists in the
threefold nature or threefold division of the Intellect, the
Sensibilities, and the Will. The action of the Will de-
pends upon the antecedent action of the Sensibilities;
and that of the sensitive nature is based upon the antece-
dent action of the Intellect. The action of the Intellect
or Understanding is twofold, External and Internal. And
we have already endeavoured, on a former occasion, to
show that the developement of the External Understand-
ing is first in the order of time, as it is obviously first in
the order of nature. It is here, so far as the mind is
concerned, that we find the commencement of action ;
but it is well understood and is entirely undeniable, that
all the action which takes place here, takes place in con-
nexion with bodily action. The External intellect does
not act, nor is it capable of acting, although the mind is
******
3
CONNEXION OF THE MIND AND BODY.
413
so constituted that the movement. of all the other parts
depends upon movement here, without the antecedent
affection of the outward or bodily senses.
In some remarks on this subject in a former chapter,
we suggested that the soul, considered in its relationship
to external objects, might be compared to a stringed in-
strument. That comparison may help to illustrate the
subject here. In the essence of its own nature the soul
is unseen and unsearchable, although it not only has an
existence, but possesses the capacity and elements of
mental harmony. But God has erected around it, un-
seen and intangible as it is, an outward structure of vis-
ible chords and artificial framework, such as the wonder-
ful system of the nerves, the eye, the ear, and the senses
generally. In accordance with this arrangement, the
soul, although it has in itself the original and abundant
source of harmony, will always be found (such is the
law or principle on which it is constituted) to be utterly
without music and without voice, until it is wakened into
life and the utterance of appropriate sounds by an im-
pulse communicated through the outward structure. The
internal susceptibility must be interrogated through the
openings of the exterior edifice; the tangible and visible
chords must be smitten before the required response will
be yielded by the mysterious and invisible agent beneath
them.-These are the facts; but, as this topic has been.
particularly noticed upon a former occasion, we shall not
further delay upon it here.
§ 330. Illustration of the subject from the effects of old age.
The existence of the connexion between the mind and
body, and of their influence upon each other, appears, in
the second place, from the effects which are witnessed in
old age.
The effects of old age, it is true, are first ex-
perienced in the bodily system. The outward senses be-
come blunted and dim; the eye loses its keenness of
sight; the ear its quickness of hearing; the palate its
nice discriminations of taste; and in various other ways
the whole bodily system shows the rapid diminution of
its activity and power. But it is well known, since it is
a matter of every day's observation, that these effects
Mм 2
414
CONNEXION OF THE MIND AND BODY.
are not restricted to that part of the human system where
they first show themselves. The mind also is unfavoura-
bly affected at the same time, and through the influence
of the same causes.
These results, it is true, are not experienced to a great
extent in the Internal Intellect, or that division of the in-
tellect which operates in the discovery of truth, independ-
ent in a great measure of the outward senses; but they
are seen and felt, perhaps we may say without a single
exception, and in a high degree, in that department of
the mind which we have proposed to designate, in con-
sequence of its depending in its action on the external
senses, as the External Intellect. As the senses one after
another are prostrated, this portion of the intellective
nature, which, as was noticed in the last section, was
brought into action through their instrumentality, seems
to fall and lie prostrate with them. It seems to be hard-
ly less deaf and blind, hardly less sensible to the intima-
tions of touch and taste, and to stand less in need of
crutches to support it, than the bowed and superannuated
body which it had formerly employed as the medium of
its activity. The higher departments of the soul, as has
been intimated, remain essentially firm and unshaken;
but this, which has a particularly close connexion with
the bodily nature, and is based, as it were, upon a found-
ation of materiality, is necessarily blunted and disordered
in its action by the dislocation and breaking up of the
earthy materials.
§ 331. The connexion of the bodily system with the mental shown from
the effects resulting from diseases.
In addition to what has been said, it may be remarked
further, in confirmation of the same general views, that
violent corporeal diseases in youth and manhood, before
any decays take place from age, often affect the powers
of thought. Persons have been known, for instance, af-
ter a violent fever or violent attacks of some other form
of disease, to lose entirely .the power of recollection.
Thucydides, in his account of the plague of Athens,
makes mention of some persons who had survived that
disease; but their intense bodily sufferings had affected
CONNEXION OF THE MIND AND BODY.
415
their mental constitution so much, that they had forgot-
ten their families and friends, and had lost all knowledge
of their own former history.-It is a singular fact, also,
that the result of violent disease is sometimes quite the
reverse of what has now been stated. While in one
case the memory is entirely prostrated, we find in others.
that, under the influence of such attacks, the memory is
suddenly aroused, and restores the history of the past
with a minuteness and vividness unknown before. But
both classes of cases confirm what we are now attempt-
ing to show, viz., the existence of a connexion between
the mind and body, and a reciprocal influence between
them.
§ 332. Shown also from the effects of stimulating drugs and gases.
If there be not a close connexion between the body
and mind, and if there be not various influences propaga-
ted from one to the other, how does it happen that many
things of a stimulating nature, such as ardent spirits and
opium, strongly affect the mind when taken into the sys-
tem in considerable quantities? But, without delaying
upon the effects of drugs of this description, which, un-
happily, can hardly fail to be noticed every day, we would
instance particularly the results which are found to follow
from the internal use of the nitrous oxide gas. This gas,
when it is received into the system, operates, in the first
instance, on the body. The effect is a physical one. In
particular, it quickens the circulation of the blood; and
also, as is commonly supposed, increases the volume of
that fluid. But its effects, which are first felt in the
body, are afterward experienced in the mind, and gen-
erally in a high degree. When it is inhaled in a consid-
erable quantity, the sensations are more acute, the con-
ceptions of absent objects are more vivid, associated
trains of thought pass through the mind with increased
rapidity, and emotions and passions, generally of a pleas-
ant kind, are excited, corresponding in strength to the in-
creased acuteness of sensations and the increased vivid-
ness of conceptions.
There is another gas, the FEBRILE MIASMA, which is
found, on being inhaled, to affect the mind also, by first
1
416
CONNEXION OF THE MIND AND BODY.
affecting the sanguineous fluid. But this gas diminishes
instead of increasing the volume of blood, as is indica-
ted by a small, contracted pulse, and an increasing con-
striction of the capillaries. As in the case of the nitrous
oxide gas, the mental exercises are rendered intense and
vivid by the febrile miasma; but the emotions which are
experienced, instead of being pleasant, are gloomy and
painful. The trains of thought which are at such times
suggested, and the creations of the imagination, are all
of an analogous character, strange, spectral, and terrify-
ing.*-We may add as a general remark here, that,
whenever the physical condition of the brain, which is a
prominent organ in the process of sensation and external
perception, is affected, whether it be from a more than
common fulness of the blood vessels or from some other
cause, the mind itself will be found to be affected also,
and oftentimes in a high degree.
§ 333. Influence on the body of excited imagination and passion.
The powers of the mind are not only liable to be pow-
erfully affected by certain conditions of the corporeal sys-
tem, but the body also, on the other hand, even to the
functions of the vital principle itself, is liable to corre-
sponding affections, superinduced by certain conditions of
the mind. When the passions, for instance, are excited,
particularly that of fear, the body at once feels the in-
fluence; and instances have occurred where, under the
influence of the last-named passion, even death itself has
followed. In the city of New-York a few years since, a
little child was left in the evening in the care of a maid-
servant, the mother having gone out. As the child was
disposed to be troublesome and to cry after being placed
at the usual time in bed in another room, the domestic
resorted to the expedient of quieting it by making and
placing before it the image of some frightful object. The
fears of the little child were greatly excited; and when,
in the latter part of the evening, the mother returned
and went to the room, she found it dead; its eyes being
open, and fixed with a singularly wild and maniac kind
of stare on the frightful image which the girl had so cru-
* See Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions, pt. ii., ch. 1.
horne"...
CONNEXION OF THE MIND AND BODY.
417
elly placed before it.-In the time of the American Rev-
olution, as the transaction was related by an officer who
was present, a soldier, who had committed some crime,
was condemned to be shot. He was finally pardoned,
without a knowledge of the pardon being communicated
to him, since it was thought advisable that he should be
made to suffer as much as possible from the fear of death.
In accordance with this plan, he was led at the appointed
time to the place of execution; the bandage was placed
over his eyes; and the soldiers were drawn out, but were
privately ordered to fire over his head. At the discharge
of their muskets, although nothing touched him, the man
fell dead on the spot." A criminal was once sentenced
in England to be executed, when a college of physicians
requested liberty to make him the subject of an experi-
ment connected with their profession. It was granted.
The man was told that his sentence was commuted, and
that he was to be bled to death. On the appointed day
several physicians went to the prison, and made the re-
quisite preparations in his presence; the lancet was dis-
played, bowls were in readiness to receive the blood, and
the culprit was directed to place himself on his back,
with his arm extended, ready to receive the fatal incis-
ion. When all this was done, his eyes were bandaged.
In the mean time, a sufficient quantity of lukewarm wa-
ter had been provided; his arm was merely touched
with the lancet, and the water, poured slowly over it,
was made to trickle down into the bowl below. One of
the physicians felt his pulse, and the others frequently ex-
changed such remarks as, He is nearly exhausted-
cannot hold out much longer-grows very pale,' &c.;
and in a short time the criminal actually died from the
force of imagination.
""*
§ 334. This doctrine of use in explaining mental phenomena.
These illustrations of the connexion existing between
the body and mind, and of their influence on each other,
are brought together here in order to prevent the neces-
sity of hereafter interrupting our examination of other
* As the statement is given in the Work entitled Popular Supersti-
tions.
{
418
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
subjects by a particular recurrence to this. There might
be a much more extended narration of facts, all tending
to the same conclusion; but we take it for granted that
it is unnecessary. We shall accordingly hereafter regard
it as a settled principle, whenever a particular effect in the
mind is ascribed to an influence from the body, that such
bodily influence is at least possible. We may perhaps
mistake, in a given case, in assigning the true corporeal
cause; but this will not imply that there is no such thing
as corporeal causes of mental action, or that such causes
are inadequate to great effects. If we would understand
the mind, we must also understand the body, not because
they are identical, but because they are related. And
for the same reason, if we would possess a sound mind,
a mind capable of exertion corresponding to its capacity,
we must endeavour to possess soundness of body. In
another and future state of being, where the connexion
which now exists will be broken, and the spiritual will
be divorced from the material, it is possible that mental
philosophy may be predicated on other principles; but,
as matters now are, to attempt to explain the phenomena
of the soul without a recognition of its relationship to
the body, is a violation of fact and an absurdity in reason.
CHAPTER II.
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
§ 335. Of excited conceptions and of apparitions in general.
HAVING prepared the way by what has been said on
the connexion existing between the mind and body, we
shall now proceed in the examination of the painfully
interesting subject before us, by giving some instances
and explanations of EXCITED CONCEPTIONS or APPARITIONS.
Conceptions, the consideration of which is to be resumed
in the present chapter, are those ideas which we have of
any absent object of perception. In their ordinary form
they have already been considered in a former part of
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
419
this Work. (See Chapter X., Part I.) But they are
found to vary in degree of strength; and hence, when
they are at the highest intensity of which they are sus-
ceptible, they may be denominated vivified or EXCITED
CONCEPTIONS. They are otherwise called, particularly
when they have their origin in the sense of sight, appa-
RITIONS.
Apparitions, therefore, are appearances which seem to
be external and real, but which, in truth, have merely an
interior or subjective existence; they are merely vivid or
excited conceptions. Accordingly, there may be appa-
ritions not only of angels and departed spirits, which ap-
pear to figure more largely in the history of apparitions
than other objects of sight; but of landscapes, mount-
ains, rivers, precipices, festivals, armies, funeral proces-
sions, temples; in a word, of all visual perceptions which
we are capable of recalling.-Although there are excited
conceptions both of the hearing and the touch, and some-
times, though less frequently, of the other senses, which
succeed in reaching and controlling our belief with un-
real intimations, those of the sight, in consequence of the
great importance of that organ and the frequency of the
deceptions connected with it, claim especial attention.
336. Of the less permanent excited conceptions of sight.
Excited conceptions, which are not permanent, but
have merely a momentary, although a distinct and real
existence, are not uncommon. In explanation of these
there are two things to be noticed.-I. They are some-
times the result of the natural and ordinary exercise of
that power of forming conceptions which all persons pos-
sess in a greater or less degree. We notice them partic-
ularly in children, in whom the conceptive or imagina-
tive power, so far as it is employed in giving existence to
creations that have outline and form, is generally more
active than in later life. Children, it is well known, are
almost constantly projecting their inward conceptions into
outward space, and erecting the fanciful creations of the
mind amid the realities and forms of matter, beholding
houses, men, towers, flocks of sheep, clusters of trees, and
varieties of landscape in the changing clouds, in the
420
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
wreathed and driven snow, in the fairy-work of frost, and
in the embers and flickering flames of the hearth. This,
at least, was the experience of the early life of Cowper,
who has made it the subject of a fine passage in the
poem of the Task.
"Me oft has fancy, ludicrous and wild,
Soothed with a waking dream of houses, towers,
Trees, churches, and strange visages express'd
In the red cinders, while, with poring eye,
I gazed, myself creating what I saw."
Beattie too, after the termination of a winter's storm,
places his young Minstrel on the shores of the Atlantic,
to view the heavy clouds that skirt the distant horizon;
"Where, mid the changeful scenery ever new,
Fancy a thousand wondrous forms descries,
More wildly great than ever pencil drew,
Rocks, torrents, gulfs, and shapes of giant size,
And glittering cliffs on cliffs, and fiery ramparts rise."
.
II. Again, excited conceptions which are not perma-
nent are frequently called into existence in connexion
with some anxiety and grief of mind, or some other mod-
ification of mental excitement. A person, for instance,
standing on the seashore, and anxiously expecting the
approach of his vessel, will sometimes see the image of
it, and will be certain for the moment that he has the
object of his anticipations in view, although, in truth,
there is no vessel in sight. That is to say, the concep-
tion, idea, or image of the vessel, which it is evidently in
the power of every one to form who has previously seen
one, is rendered so intense by feelings of anxiety, as to
be the same in effect as if the real object were present, and
the figure of it were actually pictured on the retina.—It
is in connexion with this view that we may probably ex-
plain a remark in the narrative of Mrs. Howe's captivity,
who in 1775 was taken prisoner, together with her seven
children, by the St. François Indians. In the course of
her captivity, she was at a certain time informed by the
Indians that two of her children were no more; one
having died a natural death, and the other being knock-
ed on the head. "I did not utter many words," says
the mother, "but my heart was sorely pained within me,
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
421
and my mind exceedingly troubled with strange and aw-
ful ideas [meaning conceptions or images]. I often im-
agined, for instance, that I plainly saw the naked car-
casses of my children hanging upon the limbs of trees, as
the Indians are wont to hang the raw hides of those
beasts which they take in hunting."
337. Of the less permanent excited conceptions of sound.
In regard to excited conceptions of sound (we may
remark incidentally, as we intend to confine ourselves
chiefly to those of sight), they are not, as was seen in a
former part of this Work (§ 115), so easily called into
existence and so vivid as visual conceptions. Conse-
quently, we have grounds for making a distinction, and
for saying that only one of the remarks made in refer-
ence to the less permanent excited conceptions of sight
will apply to those of sound. In other words, excited
conceptions of sound (those which appear and depart
suddenly without any permanent inconvenience to the
subject of them) originate in connexion with a greater or
less degree of mental excitement.-Persons, for instance,
sitting alone in a room, are sometimes interrupted by the
supposed hearing of a voice which calls to them. But,
in truth, it is only their own internal conception of that
particular sound, which, in consequence of some peculiar
mental state, happens at the moment to be so distinct as
to control their belief, and impose itself upon them for a
reality. This is probably the whole mystery of what
Boswell has related as a singular incident in the life of
Dr. Johnson, that while at Oxford he distinctly heard his
mother call him by his given name, although she was at
the very time in Litchfield. The same principle explains
also what is related of Napoleon. Previously to his Rus-
sian expedition, he was frequently discovered half re-
clined on a sofa, where he remained several hours,
plunged in profound meditation. Sometimes he started
up convulsively, and with an ejaculation. Fancying he
heard his name, he would exclaim, Who calls me?
These are the sounds, susceptible of being heard at any
time in the desert air, which started Robinson Crusoe
VOL. I.-N N
422
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
Maak van di
from his sleep, when there was no one on his solitary isl-
and but himself;
"The airy tongues, that syllable men's names,
On shores, in desert sands, and wildernesses."
§ 338. 1st cause of permanently vivid conceptions or apparitions.
Morbid sensibility of the retina of the eye.
We have been led to see, particularly in a former
chapter (§ 119), as well as in the preceding part of this,
that our conceptions or renovated ideas may be so vivid
as to affect our belief for a short time hardly less power-
fully than the original perceptions. But, as in the cases
referred to, there was not supposed to be an unsound or
disordered state of the body, this extreme vividness of
conception was exceedingly transitory. There are other
cases of a comparatively permanent character, which are
deserving of a more particular notice in the history of
our mental nature. These last always imply a disordered
state of the body, which we were led to see in the last
chapter is often attended with very marked effects on
the mind.
In attempting to give an explanation of the origin of
permanently vivid conceptions, the first ground or cause
of them which we shall notice is an unnatural and mor-
bid sensibility of the retina of the eye, either the whole
of the retina or only a part. This cause, it is true, is in
some degree conjectural, in consequence of the retina be-
ing so situated as to render it difficult to make it a sub-
ject of observation and experiment. But knowing, as we
do, that the nervous system generally is liable to be dis-
eased, and that the disease of a particular portion is
commonly productive of results having relation to the ob-
ject or uses of that portion, we may for this reason, as
well as for what we know directly and positively of the
occasionally disordered affections of the optic nerve, give
it a place in the explanations of the subject before us.
In order to understand the applicability of this cause of
permanently vivid conceptions or apparitions, it is neces-
sary to keep in mind that, in conceptions of visible ob-
jects, there is probably always a slight sympathetic af-
fection of the retina of the eye, analogous to what exists
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
423
when the visible object is actually present. In a perfect-
ly healthy state of the body, including the organ of visual
sense, this affection of the retina is of course very slight.
But, under the influence of a morbid sensibility, the mere
conceptions of the mind may at times impart such an in-
creased activity to the whole or a part of the retina as to
give existence to visual or spectral illusions.
There is an account given in a foreign Medical Jour-
nal (the Medico-Chirurgical Repertory of Piedmont) of a
young lady who attended for the first time the music of
an orchestra, with which she was exceedingly pleased.
She continued to hear the sounds distinctly and in their
order for weeks and months afterward, till, her whole
system becoming disordered in consequence of it, she
died. Now we naturally suppose in this case that the
nerve of the tympanum of the ear, which, both in a phys-
iological point of view and in its relation to the mind,
corresponds to the retina of the eye, continued actually to
vibrate or reverberate with the sound, although she was
no longer within hearing of it. In other words, it was
diseased; it had become morbidly sensitive, and in this
state was a source of action to itself, independently of any
outward cause. And as the mental state or sensation of
sound depends upon the actual condition of the auditory
nerve, independently of the outward causes which may
have been instrumental in producing that particular con-
dition, we see how the sounds, which she at first heard
for a few hours, continued for a number of months after
to be generated and repeated. And so in regard to the
optic nerve. It may be so morbidly sensitive, that the
mere conception of a man or of some other visible ob-
ject may affect it as really and in the same way as if the
man were actually present to the sight. And if so, the
individual who is subject to this morbid affection has
the power in himself of originating and sustaining the
representation or pictures of objects, although no such ob-
jects are present. In other words, as these results de-
pend upon the state of his physical system, and not upon
volition, he is properly said to be subject to Apparitions.
-We will only add, in confirmation of what has been
said, that in one of the most interesting cases of spectral
424
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
illusions or apparitions which has been published, the
person who was the subject of them expressly states,
that for some hours preceding their occurrence she had
a peculiar feeling in the eyes, which was relieved as soon
as they had passed away.*
§ 339. 2d cause of permanently excited conceptions or apparitions.
Neglect of periodical blood-letting.
But there are other causes of the mental states under
consideration, which, in some respects at least, are not so
closely and exclusively connected with the eye. One is
the neglect of periodical blood-letting. The doctrine
that permanently excited conceptions or apparitions are
attendant on a superabundance of blood, occasioned by
this neglect, seems to be illustrated and confirmed by the
actual and recorded experience of various individuals, as
in the following instance.
Nicolai, the name of the individual to whom the state-
ments here given relate, was an inhabitant of Berlin, a
celebrated bookseller, and naturally a person of a very
vivid imagination. He was neither an ignorant man,
nor superstitious; a fact which some undoubtedly will
esteem it important to know. The following account of
the apparitions which appeared to him is given in his
own words." My wife and another person came into my
apartment in the morning in order to console me, but I
was too much agitated by a series of incidents, which
had most powerfully affected my moral feeling, to be ca-
pable of attending to them. On a sudden, I perceived,
at about the distance of ten steps, a form like that of a
deceased person. I pointed at it, asking my wife if she
did not see it. It was but natural that she should not
see anything; my question, therefore, alarmed her very
much, and she immediately sent for a physician. The
phantom continued about eight minutes. I grew at
length more calm, and, being extremely exhausted, fell
into a restless sleep, which lasted about half an hour.
The physician ascribed the apparition to a violent mental
emotion, and hoped there would be no return; but the
violent agitation of my mind had in some way disorder-
* Brewster's Natural Magic, Letter iii.
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
425
ed my nerves, and produced further consequences, which
deserve a more minute description.
“At four in the afternoon, the form which I had seen
in the morning reappeared. I was by myself when this
happened, and, being rather uneasy at the incident, went
to my wife's apartment; but there likewise I was perse-
cuted by the apparition, which, however, at intervals
disappeared, and always presented itself in a standing
posture. About six o'clock there appeared also several
walking figures, which had no connexion with the first.
After the first day the form of the deceased person no
more appeared, but its place was supplied with many
other phantasms, sometimes representing acquaintances,
but mostly strangers; those whom I knew were com-
posed of living and deceased persons, but the number of
the latter was comparatively small. I observed the per-
sons with whom I daily conversed did not appear as
phantasms, these representing chiefly persons who lived
at some distance from me.
“These phantasms seemed equally clear and distinct
at all times and under all circumstances, both when I
was by myself and when I was in company, as well in
the day as in the night, and in my own house as well as
abroad; they were, however, less frequent when I was
in the house of a friend, and rarely appeared to me in
the street. When I shut my eyes, these phantasms would
sometimes vanish entirely, though there were instances
when I beheld them with my eyes closed; yet, when
they disappeared on such occasions, they generally re-
turned when I opened my eyes. I conversed sometimes
with my physician and my wife of the phantasms which
at the moment surrounded me; they appeared more fre-
quently walking than at rest, nor were they constantly
present. They frequently did not come for some time,
but always reappeared for a longer or shorter period,
either singly or in company, the latter, however, being
most frequently the case. I generally saw human forms
of both sexes, but they usually seemed not to take the
smallest notice of each other, moving as in a market-
place, where all are eager to press through the crowd;
at times, however, they seemed to be transacting business
N N
426
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
with each other. I also saw several times people on
horseback, dogs, and birds. All these phantasms ap-
peared to me in their natural size, and as distinct as if
alive, exhibiting different shades of carnation in the un-
covered parts, as well as different colours and fashions in
their dresses, though the colours seemed somewhat paler
than in real nature. None of the figures appeared par-
ticularly terrible, comical, or disgusting, most of them
being of an indifferent shape, and some presenting a
pleasing aspect. The longer these phantoms continued
to visit me, the more frequently did they return; while,
at the same time, they increased in number about four
weeks after they had first appeared. I also began to
hear them talk; these phantoms sometimes conversed
among themselves, but more frequently addressed their
discourse to me; their speeches were commonly short,
and never of an unpleasant turn. At different times
there appeared to me both dear and sensible friends of
both sexes, whose addresses tended to appease my grief,
which had not yet wholly subsided: their consolatory
speeches were in general addressed to me when I was
alone. Sometimes, however, I was accosted by these
consoling friends while I was engaged in company, and
not unfrequently while real persons were speaking to me.
These consolatory addresses consisted sometimes of ab-
rupt phrases, and at other times they were regularly ex-
ecuted."
§ 340. Methods of relief adopted in this case
These are the leading facts in this case, as far as the
mere appearance of the apparitions is concerned. But
as Nicolai, besides possessing no small amount of acqui-
red knowledge, was a person of a naturally philosophic
turn of mind, he was able to detect and to assign the
true cause of his mental malady. He was, it is to be re-
membered, in the first place, a person of a very vivid
fancy, and hence his mind was the more likely to be af-
fected by any disease of the body. A number of years
before the occurrences above related, he had been sub-
ject to a violent vertigo, which had been cured by means
of leeches; it was his custom to lose blood twice a year,
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
427
but, previously to the present attack, this evacuation had
been neglected. Supposing, therefore, that the mental
disorder might arise from a superabundance of blood and
some irregularity in the circulation, he again resorted to
the application of leeches. When the leeches were
applied, no person was with him besides the surgeon;
but, during the operation, his chamber was crowded with
human phantasms of all descriptions. In the course of
a few hours, however, they moved around the chamber
more slowly; their colour began to fade, until, growing
more and more obscure, they at last dissolved into air,
and he ceased to be troubled with them afterward.*
§ 341. 3d cause of excited conceptions. Attacks of fever
In violent attacks of fever there are sometimes excited
conceptions; particularly those which have their origin
in the sense of sight, and are known by way of distinc-
tion under the name of Apparitions. The conceptions
which the sick person has, become increased in vivid-
ness, until the mind, seeming to project its own creations
into the exterior space, peoples the room with living and
moving phantoms. There is a statement, illustrative of
this view, in the fifteenth volume of Nicholson's Philo-
sophical Journal, a part of which will be here repeated.
The fever in this instance, of which an account is given
by the patient himself, was of a violent character, origi-
nating in some deep-seated inflammation, and at first af-
fecting the memory, although not permanently.
66
Being perfectly awake," says this person, "in full
possession of memory, reason, and calmness, conversing
with those around me, and seeing without difficulty or
impediment every surrounding object, I was entertained
and delighted with a succession of faces, over which I
had no control, either as to their appearance, continu-
ance, or removal.
Song
* Memoir on the Appearance of Spectres or Phantoms occasioned by
Disease, with Psychological Remarks, read by Nicolai to the Royal So-
ciety of Berlin on the 28th of February 1799; as quoted by Hibbert,
pt. i., ch. i.—Walter Scott, in his Demonology and Witchcraft, speaks
of the apparitions of Nicolai as a leading case in this department of hu-
man knowledge. He also expresses the opinion that many others have
had the same experience with Nicolai, but have been deterred by va-
rious causes from making it public.
428
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
ין
CC
They appeared directly before me, one at a time,
very suddenly, yet not so much so but that a second of
time might be employed in the emergence of each, as if
through a cloud or mist, to its perfect clearness. In this
state each face continued five or six seconds, and then
vanished, by becoming gradually fainter during about
two seconds, till nothing was left but a dark opaque mist,
in which almost immediately afterward appeared another
face. All these faces were in the highest degree inter-
esting to me for beauty of form, and for the variety of
expression they manifested of every great and amiable
emotion of the human mind. Though their attention
was invariably directed to me, and none of them seemed
to speak, yet I seemed to read the very soul which gave
animation to their lovely and intelligent countenances.
Admiration, and a sentiment of joy and affection when
each face appeared, and regret upon its disappearance,
kept my mind constantly riveted to the visions before it;
and this state was interrupted only when an intercourse
with the persons in the room was proposed or urged,"
&c. The apparitions which this person experienced
were not limited to phantasms of the human countenance;
he also saw phantasms of books, and of parchment and
papers containing printed matter. Nor were these ef
fects exclusively confined to ideas received from the sense
of sight; at one time he seemed to himself to hear mu-
sical sounds. That is, his conceptions of sound were so
exceedingly vivid, it was in effect the same as if he had
really heard melodious voices and instruments.
§ 342. 4th cause of apparitions and other excited conceptions. Inflam-
mation of the brain.
Apparitions, and excited conceptions in general, exist,
in the fourth place, in consequence of inflammations and
other diseases of the brain. We may infer from certain
passages which are found in his writings, that Shaks-
peare had some correct notions of the influence of a dis-
ordered condition of the brain on the mental operations.
We allude, among others, to the passage where, in expla-
nation of the apparition of the dagger which appeared
to Macbeth, he says,
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
429
"A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppress'd brain."
Whether the seat, or appropriate and peculiar resi-
dence of the soul be in the brain or not, it seems to be
certain that this part of the bodily system is connected,
in a very intimate and high degree, with the exercises
of the mind, particularly with perception and volition.
Whenever, therefore, the brain is disordered, whether by
a contusion, or by a removal of part of it, by inflamma-
tion, or in other ways, the mind will in general be affected
in a greater or less degree. It may indeed be said, that
the immediate connexion in the cases which we now
have reference to is not between the mind and the sub-
stance of the brain, but between the mind and the blood
which is thrown into that part of the system. It is, no
doubt, something in favour of this notion, that so large a
portion of the sanguineous fluid finds a circulation there;
it being a common idea among anatomists, that at least
one tenth of all the blood is immediately sent from the
heart into the brain, although the latter is in weight only
about the fortieth part of the whole body. It is to be con-
sidered, also, that the effects which are wrought upon the
mind by the nitrous oxide and the febrile miasma gas,
are caused by an intermediate influence on the blood.
On the other hand, it may be said that there cannot be a
great acceleration of the blood's motion or increase of
its volume, without a very sensible effect on the cerebral
substance. And, therefore, it may remain true, that very
much may be justly attributed to the increase of quantity
and motion in the blood, and still the brain be the prox-
imate cause of alterations in the states of the mind.
§ 343. Facts having relation to the 4th cause of excited conceptions.
But here we stand in need of facts, as in all other
parts of this investigation. The following statement, se-
lected from a number of others not less authenticated,
can be relied on.*-A citizen of Kingston-on-Hull had a
quarrel with a drunken soldier, who attempted to enter
his house by force at an unseasonable hour. In this
* See the Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal, vol. vi., p. 288
430
EXCITED CONCEPTIONS OR APPARITIONS.
struggle the soldier drew his bayonet, and, striking him
across the temples, divided the temporal artery. He had
scarcely recovered from the effects of a great loss of
blood on this occasion, when he undertook to accompany
a friend in his walking-match against time, in which he
went forty-two miles in nine hours. He was elated by
his success, and spent the whole of the following day in
drinking, &c.
The result of these things was an affection, probably
an inflammation of the brain. And the consequence
of this was the existence of those vivid states of mind
which are termed apparitions. Accordingly, our shop-
keeper (for that was the calling of this person) is re-
ported to have seen articles of sale upon the floor, and
to have beheld an armed soldier entering his shop, when
there was nothing seen by other persons present. In a
word, he was for some time constantly haunted by a va-
riety of spectres or imaginary appearances; so much so,
that he even found it difficult to determine which were
real customers and which were mere phantasms of his
own mind. The remedy in this case was blood-letting,
and some other methods of cure which are practised in
inflammations of the brain. The restoration of the mind
to a less intense and more correct action was simultane-
ous with that of the physical system.
§ 344. 5th cause of apparitions. Hysteria.
It is further to be observed, that people are not unfre-
quently affected with apparitions in the paroxysms of the
disease known as HYSTERIA or hysterics. For the nature
of this disease, which exists under a variety of forms,
and is of a character so peculiar as to preclude any ade-
quate description in the narrow limits we could properly
allot to it, the reader is referred to such books as treat of
medical subjects. This singular disease powerfully agi-
tates the mind; and its effects are as various as they are
striking. When the convulsive affections come on, the
patient is observed to laugh and cry alternately, and al-
together without any cause of a rational or moral na-
ture; so that he has almost the appearance of fatuity, or
of being delirious. But apparitions or intensely vivid
P
PARTIAL INSANITY.
431
conceptions are among its most striking attendants. The
subjects of it distinctly see every description of forms;
trees, houses, men, women, dogs, and other inferior ɑni-
mals, balls of fire, celestial beings, &c. We can, without
doubt, safely refer to the experience of those who have
been much conversant with instances of this disease, in
confirmation of this.
The existence of the states of mind under consideration
might, without much question, be found, on further ex-
amination, to connect itself with other forms of disease.
The subject is certainly worthy, whether considered in
relation to science or to human happiness, of such further
developements as it is capable of receiving.
CHAPTER III.
PARTIAL INSANITY.
§ 345. Meaning of the term and kinds of insanity.
THE term Insanity, etymologically considered, indi-
cates simply a want of soundness or want of health. In
its application to the mind, it indicates an unsound or dis-
ordered state of the mental action. As the mind is com-
plicated in its structure, existing, as it were, in various
departments and subdivisions of departments, the disor-
dered action may pervade the whole mind, or exist ex-
clusively in some one of its departments. Accordingly,
Insanity naturally resolves itself into the two species
of Partial Insanity and Total Insanity; and it is under
these two general heads that we shall now proceed to
consider it.
Partial Insanity, which naturally comes first in order,
is a disordered condition of one or more of the mental
powers; but which leaves the mind essentially free and
undisturbed in some of its departments and in some of its
modes of action. The method which we propose to pur-
sue in the investigation of this form of insanity, is to con-
sider it as it exhibits itself in the powers of the mind sep-
432
PARTIAL INSANITY.
arately. And it is proper to add here, that we examine
the subject of insanity at present only so far as it may
naturally be supposed to exist in connexion with the In-
tellect, leaving the consideration of it, as it is occasionally
found to exist in the Sensibilities and the Will, to a fu-
ture time.
§ 346. Of disordered or alienated sensations.
Beginning with the External Intellect, the power
which first presents itself to our notice is Sensation. It
is well known that all the outward senses are liable to be
disordered, and as the inward sensation corresponds to
the condition of the outward or bodily organ, a disorder-
ed or irregular movement of the organ of sense neces-
sarily communicates itself to the inward or mental state.
A regular or healthy sensation always has reference to
some outward cause (we mean here outward even in ref
erence to the organ of sense), but a disease in the bodily
organ disturbs this relation, and necessarily gives to the
inward mental state the character, as compared with oth-
er sensations, of being unreal, visionary, and deceptive.
Not unreal and deceptive in itself, but because it inti-
mates a relation which is obliterated, and tends to force
upon our belief an outward cause which has no existence.
There are diseased or disordered visual sensations ex-
isting in connexion with a morbid condition of the visual
organ; but as this view of the subject was necessarily in-
volved in some degree in what has already been said on
the subject of excited conceptions or Apparitions, it is
not necessary to enlarge upon it here. There are also
diseased or disordered sensations of touch. A single in-
stance, out of multitudes like it, will serve both to illus-
trate and confirm the remark. In the Natural Magic of
Dr. Brewster is an account of a lady (the case which we
have already had occasion to refer to) who was subject
to spectral illusions, of whom it is expressly stated, in
connexion with her remarkable mental affections, that
she possesses" a naturally morbid imagination, so strong-
ly affecting her corporeal impressions, that the story of
any person having suffered severe pain by accident or
otherwise will occasionally produce acute twinges in the
PARTIAL INSANITY.
433
|
""
corresponding part of her person. An account, for in-
stance, of the amputation of an arm will produce an in-
stantaneous and severe sense of pain in her own arm.'
There are also (and we might apply the statement to all
the senses without exception) diseased or disordered sen-
sations of hearing. The celebrated Mendelsohn was fre-
quently subject to the attacks of a violent species of cat-
alepsis. And it happened, if he had recently heard any
lively conversation, a loud voice apparently repeated to
him, while in the fit, the particular words which had been
distinguished from others by being pronounced with an
emphatic and raised tone of voice, and “in such a man-
ner that his ear reverberated with the sound."
6 347. Of disordered or alienated external perception.
We naturally proceed from sensation to a power close-
ly connected with it, that of External Perception. In-
deed, what has been said of sensation will apply in a con-
siderable degree to the last-mentioned power, because
sensation naturally precedes perception, and is always in-
volved in it. But perception, while it involves sensation,
implies also something more, something additional; it in-
volves the reference of the inward mental state to the
outward cause or object, and not unfrequently implies
also acts of comparison, by which it distinguishes one
cause from another. And particularly is this the case in
respect to those perceptions which are designated as ac-
QUIRED perceptions, in order to distinguish them from
ORIGINAL. So that, in view of what has been said, it
would seem to be the fact, in the first place, that when
our sensations are disordered, our perceptions will be so
likewise. But this is not all. In consequence of some
interior cause, such as an inability to attend to a thing
for any length of time, or incapacity of instituting com-
parisons, disordered and false external perceptions will
sometimes exist when there appears to be no unsound-
ness in the sensations.
Agreeably to these views, we find that persons, in
whom the power of external perception is disordered
from the first of the two causes just referred to, some-
times have perceptions of colour which do not accord
VOL. I.—Ō o
434
PARTIAL INSANITY.
with those of mankind generally, being entirely unable,
for instance, to distinguish blue from green. Other per-
sons, again, have no distinct perception of minute sounds;
and take no more pleasure in the harmonies of a musical
composition of truly great merit than they do in the most.
discordant screams. When the disordered action of the
perceptive power originates from the second cause, the
subjects of it are apt to confound times, persons, and
places. They mistake, for instance, their friends and rela-
tions for others, and are at a loss as to the place where they
are, although they may have been in it hundreds of times
before. They exhibit particularly this species of aliena-
ted perception when they attempt to read a book. They
no doubt see the letters no less than others, but the action
of the mind in other respects not being such as to permit
them to dwell upon them, and compare and combine
them into words, they are unable to read; it is at least
exceedingly difficult.
§ 348. Disordered state or insanity of original suggestion.
When we pass from the External to the Internal Intel-
lect, from the region of sensation and external perception
to the interior domain of Original Suggestion, to the con-
victions involved in Consciousness, to the important pow-
ers of Relative Suggestion, Memory, and Reasoning, we
are introduced, indeed, to a higher order of mental ac-
tion, but we find no exemption from those disorders to
which the human mind in all its great departments is oc-
casionally exposed. In regard to Original Suggestion,
which comes first in order, a power which deals with
original ideas and principles merely, without professing to
ascertain the relations existing among them, it must be
admitted that it does not give so frequent and decided in-
dications of disordered action as we find elsewhere.
Nevertheless, this is sometimes the case. The conviction,
for instance, not only that we exist, but that we have
personal identity, that we are now what we have been
in times past in all that constitutes us rational and ac-
countable beings, is obviously essential to a sound mind.
But this elementary and important conviction, which ob-
viously does not rest upon judgment nor the deductions
蘸
​PARTIAL INSANITY.
435
of reasoning, but upon the higher basis of ORIGINAL SUG-
GESTION, is sometimes annulled, either in whole or in part.
To this head, so far as the conviction of the identity of
the mind is concerned, we may refer the interesting case
of the Reverend Simon Browne, an English clergyman,
who fully believed for many years before his death that
he had entirely lost his rational part or soul, and was the
possessor merely of a corporeal or animal life, such as is
possessed by the brutes. He was a man of marked abil-
ity both in conversation and writing; and this, too, on all
subjects not connected with his malady, after his partial
alienation. But so entirely was he convinced of the ab-
sence and of the probably actual extinction of his own
soul, that, in a valuable Work which he dedicated to the
Queen of England, he speaks of it in the dedication as
the Work of one who "was once a man, of some little
name, but of no worth, as his present unparalleled case
makes but too manifest; for by the immediate hand of
an avenging God, his very thinking substance has for
more than seventeen years been gradually wasting away,
till it is wholly perished out of him, if it be not utterly
come to nothing."*
§ 349. Unsoundness or insanity of consciousness.
The basis of the various convictions or judgments of
Consciousness, as that term is defined and illustrated by
writers, is the antecedent idea and belief of personal iden-
tity. If this last conviction, therefore, be lost, as in the
case mentioned in the last section, all that is involved in
Consciousness goes with it. It is the business of Con-
sciousness to connect the acts of the mind with the mind
itself; to consolidate them, as it were, into one. But if,
in our full belief, our mind is destroyed, if self or person-
ality is obliterated, then it is clearly no longer within the
power of consciousness to recognise our various acts of
perception and reasoning as having a home and agency
in our own bosoms. Self is destroyed; and the mental
acts, which are appropriate to self, are mere entities, float-
ing about, as it were, in the vacuities of space, without the
possibility of being assigned to any locality or ascribed
* Conolly's Indications of Insanity, chap. x.
436
PARTIAL INSANITY.
to any cause. The instance, therefore, mentioned in the
preceding section, which may be regarded as of a mixed
kind (that is to say, showing a perplexed action both of
Original Suggestion and Consciousness), will serve to il
lustrate what is said here.-Another instance not less
striking is that of a celebrated watchmaker of Paris, who
became insane during the period of the French Revolu-
tion. This man believed that he and some others had
been beheaded, but that the heads were subsequently or-
dered to be restored to the original owners. Some mis-
take, however, as the insane person conceived, was com-
mitted in the process of restoration; in consequence of
which, he had unfortunately been furnished with the head
of one of his companions instead of his own. He was ad-
mitted into the Hospital Bicêtre," where he was contin-
ually complaining of his misfortune, and lamenting the
fine teeth and wholesome breath he had exchanged for
those of very different qualities."
Instances also have probably from time to time oc-
curred, in which, although the conviction of personality
and personal identity has remained, yet in the fixed be-
lief of the insane person the bond of connexion between
the mind and its powers has been dissolved; and the
memory, perhaps, or the reasoning, or the imagination,
which once belonged to himself, has been transferred by
some mysterious agency to an intellect more favoured than
his own.
§ 350. Insanity of the judgment or relative suggestion.
Pursuing this subject, in its connexion with the powers
of the Internal Intellect, in the order in which they pre-
sented themselves to our notice in the Second Part of this
Work, and which seems to be essentially the order of na-
ture, we next proceed to Relative Suggestion. The pow-
er of Relative Suggestion, like that of Original Sugges-
tion, is exceedingly simple in its action, being limited
to the mere matter of perceiving relations; but it is dif-
ferent in this respect, that, while mental disorder but sel-
dom reaches original suggestion, there is scarcely an in-
stance of decidedly disordered intellect in which relative
suggestion (that is to say, JUDGMENT in its simplest form)
→
PARTIAL INSANITY.
437
is not affected in a greater or less degree. And this seems
to be unavoidable. For relations always imply the ex-
istence of something else, of other objects. And if mis-
takes, in consequence of a wrong mental action in other
respects, exist in regard to those other things, whatever
they may be, they necessarily either annul or greatly per-
plex the results of the power by which such relations are
perceived. Besides this, the power, in its own nature and
independently of perplexities from other sources, is liable
to be, and is, in fact, sometimes disordered. But, as this
subject is closely connected with that of reasoning, and
as they reciprocally throw light upon each other, we shall
say nothing further here.
§ 351. Disordered or alienated association. Light-headedness.
The laws of the mind, the great principles which reg-
ulate its action, as well as its mere perceptions or states,
may be disordered; for instance, the law of association.
The irregular action of this important principle of our
intellectual nature is sometimes greater, at others less.
There is one of the slighter forms of mental alienation
from this cause which may be termed LIGHT-HEADEDNESS ;
otherwise called by Pinel demence, and by Dr. Rush dis-
sociation. Persons subject to this mental disease are
sometimes designated as "flighty," "hair-brained;" and
when the indications of it are pretty decided, as a "little
cracked.”—Their disorder seems chiefly to consist in a
deficiency of the ordinary power over associated ideas.
Their thoughts fly from one subject to another with great
rapidity; and, consequently, one mark of this state of
mind is great volubility of speech and almost constant
motion of the body. This rapid succession of ideas and
attendant volubility of tongue are generally accompanied
with forgetfulness in a greater or less degree. And as
the subject of this form of derangement is equally incapa-
ble of checking and reflecting upon his present ideas, and
of recalling the past, he constantly forms incorrect judg-
ments of things. Another mark which has been given
is a diminished sensibility to external impressions.
§ 352. Illustrations of this mental disorder.
Dr. Rush, in his valuable work on the Diseases of the
002
438
PARTIAL INSANITY.
Mind, has repeated the account which an English cler-
gyman, who visited Lavater the physiognomist, has given
of that singular character. It accurately illustrates this
mental disorder.—"I was detained," says he, " the whole
morning by the strange, wild, eccentric Lavater, in vari-
ous conversations. When once he is set a going, there
is no such thing as stopping him, till he runs himself out
of breath. He starts from subject to subject, flies from
book to book, from picture to picture; measures your
nose, your eye, your mouth, with a pair of compasses;
pours forth a torrent of physiognomy upon you; drags
you, for a proof of his dogma, to a dozen of closets, and
unfolds ten thousand drawings; but will not let you open
your lips to propose a difficulty, and crams a solution
down your throat before you have uttered half a sylla-
ble of your objection.
"He is as meager as the picture of famine; his nose
and chin almost meet. I read him in my turn, and found
little difficulty in discovering amid great genius, unaf-
fected piety, unbounded benevolence, and moderate learn-
ing, much caprice and unsteadiness; a mind at once as-
piring by nature, and grovelling through necessity; an
endless turn to speculation and project; in a word, a
clever, flighty, good-natured, necessitous man."
§ 353. Of partial insanity or alienation of the memory.
Among other exhibitions of partial insanity, using the
terms in the manner already explained, we may include
some of the more striking instances of weakened and dis-
ordered memory. Every other part of the intellect may
be sound and regular in its action (for it will be recol-
lected that we confine ourselves here to the disorders of
the INTELLECT, without anticipating those of the Sensibil-
ities and the Will), the powers of perception, of associa-
tion, of imagination, of reasoning, at least so far as they
are able to act independent of the memory, while the ac-
tion of the latter power is either essentially obliterated, or
is the subject of strange and unaccountable deviations.
From the plan of this work we are obliged to content our-
selves with the briefest possible notices; and can there-
fore only refer to one or two instances in illustration of
PARTIAL INSANITY.
439
per-
what has been said. The instances of weakened and
verted memory are of three kinds: (1.) those where there
is a general prostration, caused in various ways, such as
grief and old age; (2.) those where there is a sudden
and entire prostration, extending to particular subjects or
through a particular period of time, generally caused by
some sudden and violent affection of the body; and, (3.)
those where there is not so much an inordinate weakness
or obliteration of the power under consideration, as a sin-
gularly perverse and irregular action of it.—It is proba-
bly not necessary to say anything of the first class. Of
the second class is the case mentioned by Dr. Beattie, of
a gentleman who, in consequence of a violent blow on
the head, lost his knowledge of Greek, but did not ap-
pear to have lost anything else. Another instance is that
mentioned by Dr. Abercrombie, of a lady who, in conse-
quence of a protracted illness, lost the recollection of a
period of about ten or twelve years, but spoke with per-
fect consistency of things as they stood before that time.
Of the third class is the case of a man who always call-
ed tobacco a hogshead; and of another man, who, when
he wanted coals put upon his fire, always called for pa-
per, and when he wanted paper called for coals; and of
another, who could not be made to understand the name
of an object if it was spoken to him, but understood it
perfectly when it was written. These three cases will
be found more particularly detailed in Dr. Abercrombie's
Inquiries into the Intellectual Powers. A case perhaps
still more interesting is found in Dr. Conolly's Indications
of Insanity as follows:
"A gentleman of considerable attainments, after long-
continued attention to various subjects, found himself in-
capable of writing what he sat down to write; and, wish-
ing to write a check, could get no farther than the first
two words; he found that he wrote what he did not
mean to write, but by no effort could he write what he
intended. This impairment of his memory and attention
lasted about half an hour, during which time his exter-
nal senses were not impaired, but the only ideas which
he had were such as the imagination dictated, without
order and without object. He knew also, during this
440
PARTIAL INSANITY.
+
*
* EX
time, that when he spoke, the words he uttered were not
the words he wished to utter. When he recovered, he
found that in his attempt to write the check, he had, in-
stead of the words 'fifty dollars, being one half year's
rate,' put down 'fifty dollars through the salvation of
Bra.'"
§ 354. Of the power of reasoning in the partially insane.
It will be noticed, so far as we have gone in the ex-
amination of the subject of insanity, that we have con-
sidered the powers of the mind separately. Probably
every power of the mind, but particularly those of the
intellect, may become more or less disordered. Having
considered sensation, perception, original suggestion, con-
sciousness, judgment, association, and memory, we pro-
pose, as coming next in order, to examine the subject in
its connexion with the reasoning power.-In some cases
of insanity there is a total inability of reasoning. There
is no power of attention, no power of comparison; and,
of course, no ability in the mind to pass from the prem-
ises of an argument to the conclusion. We have already
had occasion to refer to the power of relative suggestion,
by means of which comparisons are instituted. When-
ever this power is disordered and fails to perform its of-
fice, such is the close connexion between it and reason-
ing, the operations of the latter are disturbed also. In
such cases the inability to reason is total; that is to say,
it extends to all subjects alike. But it is more frequently
the case, that the alienation of reasoning is not so exten-
sive, but exists chiefly in relation to certain subjects, in
respect to which the belief is affected. When the train
of reasoning leads the person within the range of those
particular subjects, whatever they are, we at once discover
that the intellect is disordered. And this view has led to
the common remark, which is obviously well founded,
that the more common form of insane or alienated reason
does not consist so much in the mode of connecting prop-
ositions, and in the conclusions drawn from them, as in
the premises. The insane person believes, for instance,
that he is a king. Accordingly, he reasons correctly in
requiring for himself the homage suited to a king, and in
-
PARTIAL INSANITY.
441
expressing dissatisfaction on account of its being with-
held; but he commits an essential error in the premises,
which assume that he actually possesses that station.
§ 355. Instance of the above form of disordered reasoning.
We have an instance of the form of insanity just men-
tioned in the character of Don Quixote. Cervantes rep-
resents the hero of this work as having his naturally
good understanding perverted by the perusal of certain
foolish, romantic stories, falsely purporting to be a true
record of knights and deeds of chivalry. These books,
containing the history of dwarfs, giants, necromancers,
and other preternatural extravagance, were zealously pe-
rused, until the head of Don Quixote was effectually
turned by them. Although he was thus brought into a
state of real mental derangement, it was limited to the
extravagances which have been mentioned. We are ex-
pressly informed, that in all his conversations and replies,
he gave evident proofs of a most excellent understand-
ing, and never "lost the stirrups" except on the subject
of chivalry. On this subject he "was crazed."-Ac-
cordingly, when the barber and curate visited him on a
certain occasion, the conversation happened to turn on
what are termed reasons of state, and on modes of ad-
ministration; and Don Quixote spoke so well on every
topic as to convince them that he was quite sound, and
had recovered the right exercise of his judgment. But
something being unadvisedly said about the Turkish war,
the knight at once remarked, with much solemnity and
seriousness, that his majesty had nothing to do but to is-
sue a proclamation, commanding all the knights-errant in
Spain to assemble at his court on a certain day; and al-
though not more than half a dozen should come, among
these one would be found who would alone be sufficient to
overthrow the whole Turkish power.
When the subject of conversation turned upon war,
which had so near a connexion with shields, and lances,
and all the associations of chivalry, it came within the
range of his malady, and led to the absurd remark, which
showed at once the unsoundness of his mind, notwith-
standing the sobriety and good sense which he had just
before exhibited.
442
PARTIAL INSANITY.
§ 356. Of readiness of reasoning in the partially insane.
Those who have been personally acquainted with the
intellectual condition of the partially insane, have some-
times observed in them great quickness of thought in
some little emergencies, and an unusual degree of cunning.
When, for instance, an attempt has been made to seize
and confine them, they steadily and promptly mark the
motions of their pursuers; they rapidly decipher their in-
tentions from their countenance, and cause them no
small degree of perplexity. In particular, it has been ob-
served in some instances that they discover more fluency
of expression and rapidity of deduction than others of
a perfectly sound mind, or than themselves could have
exhibited before their derangement. This singular fact
is to be briefly explained.
The unusual quickness of deduction and of expression
which has sometimes been noticed in partially insane per-
sons, may be referred to two causes: First, an uncommon
excitation of the attention, and of all the intellectual
powers; and, secondly, a removal of those checks which
attend the sober and the rational in their reasonings.
Some of the checks which retard the process of rea-
soning in the case of men whose powers are in a good
state, are these.—(1.) There is a distrust of phraseology,
a fear of mistakes from the ambiguity and vageness of
language. The object of a rational man is supposed to
be to arrive at truth, and not merely to gain a victory.
He therefore feels anxious not only to employ terms
which appear to himself proper, but which shall be right-
ly understood by his opponent. But the irrational man,
as might be expected, does not find himself embarrassed
with considerations of this nature.-(2.) A second ob-
struction to facility and promptness in argumentation, in
the case of the sober-minded and rational, is this: They
fear that they may not be in possession of all those prem-
ises on which the solution will be found in the event to
depend. Many disputes are carried on without previous-
ly forming an acquaintance with those facts which are
necessarily and prominently involved. While disputants
of sound minds have any suspicion on this point, and
know not but it will be labour lost, they of course feel
PARTIAL INSANITY.
443
their interest in the dispute very much diminished.—(3.)
The third circumstance to which reference was had is
this: The influence of certain feelings of propriety and of
good sense, which ordinarily govern men in the full ex-
ercise of their powers.
-
The disputant feels himself under obligations to pro-
fess a deference for his opponent; it is due to the cus-
tomary forms of society. He is sometimes restrained and
embarrassed by what he considers due to those who are
present to hear the argument. He is particularly careful
to say nothing foolish, absurd, or uncharitable.-All these
things weigh nothing with the insane person. He is not
troubled about exactness of expression, or the observance
of ceremonies, but strangely rushes, as it were, upon the
main points of the controversy, regardless of all minor
considerations.*
§ 357. Partial mental alienation by means of the imagination.
Men of sensibility and genius, by giving way to the
suggestions of a melancholy imagination, sometimes be-
come mentally disordered. Not that we are authorized
to include these cases as among the more striking forms
of insanity; they in general attract but little notice, al-
though sources of exquisite misery to the subjects of them.
But such are the extravagant dreams in which these per-
sons indulge; such are the wrong views of the character
and actions of men, which their busy and melancholy
imaginations are apt to form, that they cannot be reck-
oned persons of truly sound minds. These instances,
which are not rare, it is difficult fully to describe; but
their most distinguishing traits will be recognised in the
following sketch from Madame de Staël's Reflections on
the Character and Writings of Rousseau.
After remarking that he discovered no sudden emo-
tions, but that his feelings grew upon reflection, and that
he became impassioned in consequence of his own medi-
tations, she adds as follows: "Sometimes he would part
with with all his former affection; but if an expres-
sion had escaped you which might bear an unfavourable
construction, he would recollect it, examine it, exagger-
you
* See Stewart's Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. ii., ch. iii.
"PĚRK*
444
PARTIAL INSANITY.
ate it, perhaps dwell upon it for a month, and conclude
by a total breach with you. Hence it was that there
was scarce a possibility of undeceiving him; for the light,
which broke in upon him at once, was not sufficient to
efface the wrong impressions which had taken place so
gradually in his mind. It was extremely difficult, too,
to continue long on an intimate footing with him. A
word, a gesture, furnished him with matter of profound
meditation; he connected the most trifling circumstances
like so many mathematical propositions, and conceived
his conclusions to be supported by the evidence of de-
monstration.
"I believe," she further remarks, "that imagination
was the strongest of his faculties, and that it had almost
absorbed all the rest. He dreamed rather than existed;
and the events of his life might be said more properly to
have passed in his mind than without him: a mode of
being, one should have thought, that ought to have se-
cured him from distrust, as it prevented him from obser-
vation; but the truth was, it did not hinder him from at-
tempting to observe; it only rendered his observations
erroneous. That his soul was tender no one can doubt
after having read his works; but his imagination some-
times interposed between his reason and his affections,
and destroyed their influence; he appeared sometimes
void of sensibility, but it was because he did not perceive
objects such as they were. Had he seen them with our
eyes, his heart would have been more affected than ours.”
§ 358. Insanity or alienation of the power of belief.
The action of the various intellectual powers which
have been brought to view in this chapter, terminates in
the causation or production of Belief. In regard to that
particular state of the intellect which is denominated be-
lief, it is obvious that in a sound mind it has a natural
and determinate relation to all the various intellectual sus-
ceptibilities, both External and Internal. This relation is
sometimes disturbed; and the belief exists in a position
altogether unsustained by the evidence which is present-
ed. There are three classes of persons in whom this state
of mind, or, in other words, the faculty or susceptibility
G
PARTIAL INSANITY.
445
of belief, if we may be permitted so to call it, appears to
be disordered.—(1.) The first class are those who seem
incapable of believing anything which they are required
to receive on the testimony of others. They must see it
with their own eyes; they must hear it or handle it for
themselves; they must examine it by square, rule, and com-
pass. They remind one of the Savage, who complained,
when something was proposed for his belief, "that it
would not believe for him." The causes of this singular
inability are worthy of more inquiry than has hitherto
been expended upon them. When it is very great, it is
a mark of the approach or actual existence of idiocy.-
(2.) There is another class of persons who plainly show
a derangement of this power by their readiness to believe
everything. No matter how incongruous or improbable
a story is, it is received at once. They take no note of
dates, characters, and circumstances; and as they find
nothing too improbable to believe, they find nothing too
strange, marvellous, and foolish to report. This state of
mind is frequently an accompaniment of light-headed-
ness. —(3.) There are other cases where the alienation of
belief is not general, but particular. There is nothing pe-
culiar and disordered in its ordinary action, but only in
respect to particular facts. That is, certain propositions,
which are erroneous and absurd, are received by the dis-
ordered persons as certain; and nothing can convince them
of the contrary. One believes himself to be a king; an-
other that he is the prophet Mohammed; and various
other absurdities are received by them as undoubtedly
true. On all other subjects they appear to be rational;
but the alienation or insanity of belief is evident as soon
as their cherished errors are mentioned.
VOL. I.-P P


446
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
CHAPTER IV.
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
§ 359. Idea of total insanity or delirium.
We finish what we have to say on the subject of the
Intellect, both in its regular and its disordered action, by
a brief explanation of Total Insanity or Delirium. Par-
tial insanity is so designated, because it exists in one only
or a small number of intellectual powers; but total in-
sanity, as the expression indicates, implies the perversion
of all of them. It involves the idea of a total disorgani-
zation; of a chaotic mingling together of the mental ele-
ments, without regard to law or order; perception, con-
sciousness, association, memory, reasoning, all conflicting
with themselves and with each other in one wild mass of
irretrievable ruin.

It may perhaps be intimated here, that the relation
which total insanity holds to partial insanity precludes
the necessity of saying much on the former, because we
have only to unite the various evils which exist in partial
insanity in one mind, in order to constitute the idea and
the reality of total insanity. There is undoubtedly some
foundation for this suggestion; but it is nevertheless true,
that objects often assume a new character in virtue of the
relations they sustain; and evils, which are great in them-
selves, may not only assume a new aspect, but an increas-
ed aggravation by being associated with other evils. And
this is true in insanity. So long as only a part of the
mind is disordered, there is some hope that the light which
is unobscured may penetrate the darkness of the region
which is insane. At any rate, we may well suppose that
the insanity of the mind is favourably modified and kept
in check by the elements that still remain unperverted.
But when the contagion has spread through the whole
mass; when every modifying and conservative influence
is obliterated, the separate evils, which existed in the dif
ferent departments and powers of the mind, are likely to
become more intense than they would otherwise be
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
447
◊ 360. Of perception in cases of total or delirious insanity.
We may illustrate the general views of the last section
by a reference to the power of perception. It will be
recollected that perception involves something more than
mere sensation; such as the reference of the sensation to
the outward cause, and not unfrequently acts of judgment
distinguishing one cause from another. Of course it fol-
lows, if the power of relative suggestion or judgment be
disordered, as it is in all cases of delirium or total insan-
ity, the disordered condition of the power of perception
will be likely to be increased.-This is the case, in par-
ticular, in respect to what are called Acquired percep-
tions. In visual perception, for instance, all objects at
first seem to touch the eye. Accordingly, our estimate of
distance by the sight is not, properly speaking, original
knowledge, but acquired. What we term perception of
distance is not a mere act of the eye, a mere visual ap-
prehension, but always presupposes certain preceding
acts of the judgment. But in delirious insanity the pow-
er of judging is subverted and lost. Hence the delirious
man necessarily mistakes in the perception of distance,
and it is no uncommon thing to find him attempting to
throw himself from the windows of an upper story or
down the brink of a precipice. Such attempts can be ac-
counted for on no other supposition than a mistake of
sight, founded not so much on a false sensation as on a
false or perverted jndgment, involved in the complex act
of visual perception. The same causes which perplex
his perceptions of distance, also confuse his notions of ex-
tension, of the form of bodies, and of the outlines of any
object of sight whatever.
F
361. Of association in delirious insanity.
In the form of insanity which is termed DELIRIOUS, the
principle of association is not unfrequently found to be
greatly affected. Rapidity of association was given as a
characteristic of that form of partial insanity which was
termed light-headedness or " demence." But in delirium
it often exists in a far more striking degree. In light-
headedness, the direct and indirect influence which is re-
tained and exercised by the will over trains of thought,
448
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
is only diminished; in delirium it seems to be wholly an-
nulled. Every new object, every new countenance, every
noise heard in the room where the delirious person is, or
noises that are heard from without; indeed, everything
with which thoughts and feelings have been formerly as-
sociated, revives those ancient trains of mental acts.
They are poured in upon him like a flood; and it is easier
to conceive than describe what a tumultuous chaos the
mind in such a condition must be. When we consider
that these uncalled-for trains of thought are thrown in
upon the maniac when his system is in great nervous ex-
citement, and that he is unable to resist or to regulate the
instantaneous transference of the mind from subject to
subject, it is no wonder that he should exhibit, as we of-
ten find that he does, much external agitation, wildness
of countenance, violence of gestures, and outcries.
§ 362. Illustration of the above section.
The following account of the rapid mental transitions
of an insane person in the New Bethlem Hospital, Lon-
don, will go to confirm and illustrate what has been said.
Like all characteristic sketches of insanity, it is a melan-
choly picture. Difficult as it is to conceive that such an
endless series of topics should be crowded into the mind
in a space so short, it is only what is realized in all cases
of delirious insanity, where a derangement of the laws of
association is the prominent trait." Wholly unlimited
by the identities of time, place, or person, he instantly ac-
commodates each to his fancy, and in a moment he is
anywhere, and everywhere, and anybody, by turns. At
one time he imagines himself to be the Lord Chancellor,
or, as he emphatically styles himself, 'Young Baggs;'
and no mortal tongue ever maintained the loquacity of
the law, or talked with more incessant volubility, than
his imaginary lordship. He would decide ten thousand
causes in a day; he would accuse, try, condemn, and ex-
ecute whole nations in a breath. His language was as
wild and far-fetched as his fancy was various; topics of
all kinds seemed to come tumbling into his mind with-
out order or connexion. Of every name he heard men-
tioned he instantly became the personal representative,
-
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
449
and says, 'I am he;' thus he is by turns Bonaparte, the
King, the Duke of Wellington, Lord Londonderry, the
Persian ambassador, Mr. Pope, Homer, Smollet, Hume,
Gibbon, John Bunyan, &c.
"He is successively a Hottentot, a Lascar, a Spaniard,
a Turk, a Jew, a Scotsman. He has been in all situa-
tions and occupations of life, according to his own ac-
count; a potboy at Hampstead, a shoeblack, a chimney-
sweeper, an East India Director, a kennel-raker, a gold-
finder, an oyster-woman, a Jew cast-clothesman, a police
justice, a judge, a keeper of Newgate, and, as he styles
it, 'His Majesty's law iron-monger for the home depart-
ment:' nay, he has even been Jack Ketch, and has hung
hundreds; he has been a soldier, and has killed thou-
sands; a Portuguese, and poniarded scores; a Jew pedlar,
and cheated all the world; a member of Parliament for
London, and betrayed his constituents; a Lord Mayor, a
bishop, an admiral, a dancing-master, a Rabbi, Grimaldi
in the pantomime, and ten thousand other occupations,
that no tongue or memory but his own could enumerate.
The specimen just given may serve as a sample of what
is passing in his fancy."
-
§ 363. Of the memory in connexion with delirious insanity.
The memory, too, whatever perversions it may suffer in
partial insanity, is, as a general thing, still more unfa-
vourably affected in delirium. The memory, it will be
recollected, holds nearly the same relation to association
that perception does to sensation. That is to say, it em-
braces something more; and this additional element is an
act of the judgment, a process of comparison. If, there-
fore, the action of the judgment is annulled or greatly
perplexed, as it always is in delirium, the malady of the
memory, whatever it may happen to be, is unquestionably
increased by that circumstance. Under such circum-
stances, the memory is not only like a ship without a rud-
der (a comparison which is frequently employed to illus-
trate its disordered action), but is coasting a shore where
there are no buoys or lighthouses. The surrounding
beacons of the mind are extinguished; the landmarks
which nature had erected in other departments of the

PP 2
450
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
intellectual empire are obliterated; and there is nothing
exterior to itself to indicate either the mistakes or the cer-
tainties of its position.
§ 364. Of the power of reasoning in total or delirious insanity.
If we further examine the subject of total insanity in
connexion with the faculty of reasoning, we shall find re-
sults somewhat similar, or perhaps even more marked, more
unfavourable. In partial insanity, it is true that the rea-
soning power is sometimes greatly impaired in every re-
spect, whether we consider the mere act of comparison,
or the elements which the act of comparison attempts to
combine together. But it is not unfrequently the case,
that in that form of insanity the deductive power re-
mains essentially sound, so far as the process, or act of
comparing and combining, is concerned; and is erroneous
in its results merely in consequence of a mistake in the
elements which it employs. In other words, the error is
not so much in the acts of comparison as in the propo-
sitions which are compared together; the superstructure,
in itself considered, is well enough, but the foundation is
defective. But in total insanity or delirium, there is, for
the most part, neither the one nor the other; neither the
basis of the building, nor the materials and requisite pow-
ers with which to erect it.
All reasoning, it is obvious, must have something to
start from; some amount of knowledge, whether more
or less, constituting its beginning, its antecedent position ;
but in total insanity, still more than in partial, the alien-
ation that pervades the mind has infected and disordered
the elements of thought, in addition to the inability of
comparing them together. The ability to compare im-
plies a healthy condition of the powers of association and
relative suggestion, both of which are disordered in de-
lirium. Of course, the two great conditions of sound rea-
soning, viz., sound knowledge to begin with and unim-
paired powers of comparison, are wanting. Under these
circumstances, we leave it to the reader to judge whether
we may not reasonably anticipate that a disordered con-
dition of the reasoning power in total insanity will be
more aggravated and hopeless than at other times.-The
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
451
statements which have been made sufficiently indicate,
without our going further into the subject, the leading pe-
culiarities of mental action which will be likely to at-
tend a state of delirium or total insanity, in distinction
from any other and lower form of disordered intellect.
365. Of the form of insanity called furor or madness.
It is sometimes the case, that insanity of the intellectual
powers, whether in whole or in part, is attended with a
sort of dull and moping stupidity of the affections. The
subject of it is averse to companionship, takes no interest
in the ordinary concerns of life, and seems most to enjoy
the little happiness which can be supposed to exist in his
melancholy situation, when most remote from the obser-
vation of others. But sometimes it is otherwise. The
fountains of the inner deep are broken up. There are
sorrows profound and inextinguishable, sometimes borne.
and uttered with a degree of calmness, but not unfre-
quently venting themselves in impassioned expressions
and furious acts. All the corporeal powers of the mani-
ac, at such times, are put to the test; he makes war upon
his own friends; he attacks his keepers; he assaults the
bars and windows of his prison; and even turns, in the
height of his uncontrolled vexation and anguish, upon his
own person. It is this form of insanity which is com-
monly termed FUROR or MADNESS, and which we shall
probably find occasion to illustrate more particularly when,
as in the progress of this Work we shall be naturally led
to do, we contemplate the subject in connexion with the
Sensibilities.
366. Of the causes of the different kinds of insanity.
In regard to the causes of insanity, which it may be
proper here briefly to refer to, they are generally under-
stood, whether the insanity is partial or delirious, to be of
two kinds, viz., MORAL and PHYSICAL.-In the first place,
all diseases which violently affect the physical system,
such as epilepsy, fevers, and apoplexy, also injuries of
the brain, indirectly affect the mind, and may cause per-
manent insanity.—It is worthy of remark also in regard
to an insane state of the mind, that it is in some degree he-
reditary; hence it is often said of particular families that
452
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
they are predisposed to insanity. The father, son, and
grandson have not only been known to become successive-
insane, but the derangement has sometimes taken place
in each case in the same year of their life.
(II.) There are also various moral causes of mental
alienation. It has been caused, among other circumstan-
ces of a moral nature, by disappointed ambition. Disap-
pointment in mercantile and other speculations, and in
any ardent expectations whatever, often has the same ef-
fect. Erroneous religious opinions, and great excitements
of feeling on religious subjects, have contributed towards
supplying lunatic hospitals. An unrestrained indulgence
of any of the passions is found to be attended with the
same results.
As an illustration of what has been said, it may be ad-
ded, that we find a fruitful source of mental derangement
in vicissitudes of political events. A recent writer in a
French medical work says that he could give a history
of the political revolutions in France, from the taking of
the Bastile down to the return of Bonaparte from Elba,
by detailing the causes of certain cases of insanity.*-It
appears from reports from insane hospitals, that moral
causes of insanity are more numerous than physical. But
in many cases the influence of both is combined together.
§ 367. Of moral accountability in mental alienation.
It is in some respects a difficult inquiry, Whether men
who are in a state of mental alienation are morally ac-
countable? Whether they are the subjects of merit or
demerit? And, if so, in what cases and how far? In
determining these questions there ought to be a distinc-
tion made between cases of partial insanity, where the
mind is deranged only in part, and cases of delirium or
total insanity. In the last there is evidently no account-
ability. In the former instances, a judgment should be
formed from the circumstances of the particular case un-
der consideration.
Accordingly, this may be laid down as a general rule
in respect to this subject, and perhaps it is the only one
* Dictionnaire des Sciences Medicales, Art. Folie (Esquirol). See
also Des Causes Morales et Physiques des Maladies Mentales, par F.
Voisin; Influence des institutions politiques.
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
453
which can be; viz., Persons of an alienated mind, whether
they be idiots or insane, are not to be considered account-
able, are not subjects of praise or blame, whenever it
appears that the mental alienation extends to and wholly
annuls the power of correct judgment. And this is the
case with all persons who are the subjects of total insan-
ity. When the insanity is partial, it would seem to fol-
low, therefore, that the first inquiry should be, Whether
the action committed comes within range of the malady.
For a person who is insane on one subject merely, will
probably be found to labour under a perversion of judg-
ment in respect to that particular subject no less than if
the insanity were total or delirious. Consequently, a dis-
tinction may be justly set up, although it will require
much caution in doing it, between those actions which
can be clearly found within the limits of the person's in-
sanity and those which evidently fall without it.
§ 368. Of the imputation of insanity to individuals.
While the existence of insanity, so far as materially to
affect the power of judging, takes away accountability in
whole or in part, it affects proportionably the relations
which the subjects of it sustain to society. In all well-
organized communities, it will be found to follow, from
the terms of the civil compact, that those who exercise
sovereignty are bound to afford protection to the citizens
in general, and to individuals in particular, in certain
cases. Hence they will be found to have taken precau-
tionary measures, the nature of which all are acquainted
with, to protect the community against the injuries which
insane persons might commit, and also to alleviate that
unhappiness which they necessarily bring, in a greater or
less degree, on themselves and families.
Accordingly, it is implied, in the imputation of insanity
to individuals, by an act of the civil authorities, that the
insane person is deprived of that ability of self-govern-
ment which is the common allotment of men; that the
strong bonds of friendship, of family, and of country,
which once kept him in his appropriate station in society,
are loosened; and that he must find, in the substitution
of the will and guardianship of the State, that oversight
454
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
own.
and protection which he has lost by the alienation of his
While all must admit the propriety of this course,
where the circumstances of the case justly demand it, it
must be conceded that nothing can be more solemn and
affecting than such a public imputation of derangement,
which, whether just or unjust, practically annihilates the
civil and social character of man, and seals his degrada-
tion in these respects. It is a right, therefore, which
ought not to be exercised but upon good grounds, and
the exercise of which ought to be understood to require
and to imply a correct acquaintance with this difficult
but practical and important subject. And the more so,
because there have been depraved individuals who have
endeavoured to fasten the charge of insanity upon others
from some interested motives, in order to gratify malig-
nant passions, or to control their persons or property. A
suitable protection against the designs of such is to be
had, not merely in the integrity of those who are to judge
in these cases, but in their acquaintance with the laws
and tendencies of the mind.
Before leaving this topic, one suggestion further re-
mains. In forming an opinion as to the mental alienation
of an individual, not only those particular facts are to be
considered which are supposed to indicate insanity, but
they are to be estimated in connexion with constitutional
traits of character. That rapidity of association, that gay
and heedless transition from subject to subject, which is
natural in one and occasions no surprise, would be re-
garded in another as a positive indication of the disturb-
ance of the mental powers.
369. Of the treatment of the insane.
In closing this view of mental maladies, it is proper to
make some suggestions on the treatment due to those of
cur fellow-beings who are thus afflicted. It is no un-
common thing to see them treated with unkindness. Al-
though they may not, in general, so readily perceive and
so intensely feel, as others, the injuries they receive, any
cruelty of treatment towards them is very unjustifiable in
the authors of it.
It is wrong on the general principle that we are
TOTAL INSANITY OR DELIRIUM.
455
+
bound not to cause and increase suffering unnecessarily
in any case whatever, even in the animal creation. Men
were designed to render each other happy, and not to in-
crease each other's miseries. The poet Cowper uttered
a sentiment, which finds a response in the bosoms of all
kind and honourable men, when he declared he would
not reckon in his list of friends the man who should need-
lessly set foot upon a worm.
It is wrong, also, on the principle that we should do to
others as we ourselves wish to be done by.—The person
of an alienated mind may not be able to reason on the
subject of what is due him, but those who possess rational
powers can. They cannot fail to see the application of
the Scriptural principle which has been mentioned in the
present instance. All persons whatever are subject to
these mental evils; and it is presumed that no one would
be easy in the anticipation of being left without care and
assistance from others, when he should be unable to take
care of himself. If, therefore, we take the ground that
persons in the state of idiocy, or of delirium, or of any of
the forms of mental alienation, are not entitled to care
and kindness, we are possibly treasuring up for ourselves
a retribution of a similar fearful character.
Again: ill treatment of cases of this kind is a tacit re-
flection on the Supreme Being, which we cannot, without
great self-ignorance, imagine ourselves authorized to
make. He has, in his wisdom, permitted them to exist,
as memorials of human weakness and as useful comment-
aries on pride of intellect; and perhaps, also, to give us
an opportunity of exercising the noble virtues of charity
and humanity. We are therefore bound to receive the
instruction they impart, and to exercise the virtues which
they give us an opportunity of exercising; otherwise we
cast contempt on Him whose almighty hand orders the
distinctions, and distributes the allotments both of bodily
and intellectual life.
END OF VOL. I.

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