UC-NRLF lllllllllllll B 3 ^TT Sfifi v>. c THE ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. ON THE PEINCIPLES OF BENEKE, 7VUXJ STATED AND ILLUSTRATED IN A SIMPLE AND POPULAR MANNER BY DR. G. RAUE, PR0FE8S0E IN THE MEDICAL COLLEGE, PHILADELPHIA ; FOURTH EDITION, CONSIDERABLY ALTERED, IMPROVED, AND ENLARGED, BY JOHANN GOTTLIEB DRESSIER, LATE DIRECTOB OF THE NORMAL 8CHOOI. AT BAUTZBK. TEANSLATED FEOM THE GERMAN. ©rforb mtt %antionx JAMES PARKER AND CO. 1871. SX^bo EDUC. PSYCH. imRARY NOTE BY THE TRANSLATOR. THE translator of the present work found himself suddenly in want of a Manual of Psychology which should he at once systematic, intelligible, brief, plausible, and, above all things, suggestive. No English treatise seemed exactly to satisfy all these conditions, especially the last, and hence the Lehrhuch der Psychologie by Dr. Beneke was at first selected ; but as it was found that there was neither time nor health to turn it into English soon enough for the purpose for which it was required, the compendium of the same author's theory by Raue and Dressier was substituted for it. The version was completed in a few weeks, and some competent judges to vs^hom it was shewn, were pleased to express the opinion that it ought not to be con- fined to the narrow circle of students for whose use and benefit it was originally intended and executed: hence the publica- tion of it. The translator, however, desires it to be distinctly understood that he by no means identifies himself with Beneke's opinions. The determinism of the system, (for though a stout defender of what he calls Moral Freedom, Beneke is after all a determinist) — its mechanical and physical metaphors occasionally, perhaps often, taken for something more than mere figures of speech, — even its extreme simplicity, to mention no other reasons, might all be urged as objections to its truth. Still, be its defects what they may, it is well- deserving of study, and it would be difficult to mention a theory more ingenious, concatenated, and complete. That it does not solve all our puzzles, or that it fails totally to IV NOTE BY THE TEANSLATOE. touch our gravest doubts and difficulties, is an objection which lies against it in common with all other systems whatever. It is a real advantage, however, if familiar facts, or facts supposed to be familiar, are presented to us in a new light ; thought is necessarily stimulated, we get for a while out of the old groove in which we have been accustomed to move, and even if we recur to it, we feel strengthened and refreshed by the temporary change. This advantage will, it is hoped, be secured by most English readers who will take the trouble to master the psycho- logical system, of which the present volume is a popular and faithful exposition. It was elaborated by Dr. Priedrich Eduard Beneke, (born at Berlin in 1798, where he died a Professor in the University in 1854,) and applied by him, with remarkable ingenuity, to the elucidation of Logic, Metaphysics, Ethics, Law, Politics, Mental Disease, and Education. His voluminous works appear to be but little known in this country. They are all valuable, and prove that it is possible to be even a German phi- losopher, and yet to write like a man of the world, simply, in- telligibly, and with good temper. For Schelling, Hegel et hoc genus omne, and for the strange jargon which they too often affect, Dr. Beneke had a profound aversion, — an aversion, how- ever, founded on a knowledge, and not, as is sometimes the case, on an ignorance of their productions ; nor was it possible to be otherwise in one so imbued with the principles of Locke and other English philosophers of his school. But energetically op- posed as he was to the magnificent absurdities of the Wissen- schaftslehre of Fichte, to the Intellectual Intuition of Schelling, or the Dialectic of Hegel, Beneke had a watchful ear for the more sober utterances of German philosophy, and while steadily combating what he conceived to be their errors, he adopts much of the teaching of Kant, of Schleiermacher, of Jacobi, and espe- cially of Herbart ; yet he is no eclectic, and whether he adopts IfOTE BY THE TKAN8LAT0B. or rejects the thoughts of others, he has always a definite opi- nion of his own, which he never tires of presenting to us over and over again with unabated vigour, and with inexhaustible variety of expression. Of the faithfulness of Dr. Raue*8 compendium as enlarged by Dressier*, little need be said. It condenses the contents of many volumes, and puts the whole theory in such a light, that he must be blind indeed who cannot discern its outline and pro- portions. Like all philosophical works, it calls for some atten- tion ; but provided that is forthcoming, any one not naturally incapable of such studies will find himself able to understand the book, if he will only condescend to read it onwards from the beginning, and make free use of the cross-references with which it is studded. Those who indulge in the detestable practices of *' dipping," or "skimming," need not expect to comprehend much of it. As regards the translation, it may be observed that the speed with which it was made has left it a good deal rougher than it otherwise might have been. It is literal in almost all places, and the more important terms are represented as far as possible by the same English words, though not a few sentences have been rendered particularly clumsy in consequence. It is hoped and believed that the version is faithful, and that the author has not been made to say either more or less than he intended. It may be as well to notice that the term Vorstellung has been uni- * The exact German title of the book is. Dr. P. E. Beneke's Neue Seel- enlehre, fiir alle Freunde der ^ aturwahrheit in anschaulicher Weise dar- gestellt von Dr. G. Raue, Professor an der mediciuischen Akademie in Philadelphia. Vierte Auflage. Mehrfach umgearbeitet, verbessert und vermehvt von Johann Gottlieb Dressier, Seminar-Director a. D. in Bautzen. Mainz, Verlag von F. H. Evler. (G. Faber'sche Buchhandlung.) 1865, 8vo, (pp. viii. and 263). VI NOTE BY THE TEANSLATOE. formly rendered by '''notion." To have translated it by Sir William Hamilton's equivalent, "representation," would, it was found, have made many passages far less intelligible to an Eng- lish reader than they are at present. The thing intended to be expressed is amply explained in § 10, and if any object upon principle to '* notion" as a rendering of Vorstellung, they have merely to run their pen through the former word, wherever it occurs, and substitute any other which they prefer. The typo- graphical peculiarities of the original have been closely ad- hered to : the words and notes in brackets are inserted by the translator. OXFOED, March, 1871. PKEFACE. THE preface to the fourth edition of a book need not be lengthy. The following remarks may sufSce. The title * has been changed, because the treatise has com- pletely outgrown the end for which it was originally intended, namely, to be a manual for national ^ schools. It is now a book for all who make any pretensions to education. The subject is treated with the same homely clearness as before, but the in- vestigation into the nature of the human soul is carried further than it was in the three former editions. It is hoped that the work will on this account be deemed worthy 'in an increased degree of the favour which has been so abundantly shewn to it hitherto ; for while the requirements of teachers have not been neglected, it may be used as a trustworthy guide to the new theory by every one who is interested in the all-important study of man's mental and spiritual nature. The book has already diffused a knowledge of that theory widely, and may now hope to spread it still further. Professor Raue, the original compiler of the present treatise, has been kind enough to leave the preparation of a new edition of it entirely to me, and consequently I alone am responsible for the alterations and additions that have been made in it. They are sp numerous, that I may venture to claim the book as wholly ' The former title ran thus : " Dr. Beneke's neue Psychologie nach me- tliodischen Grundsatzen in einfach entwickelnder Weise fur Lehrer bear- beitet von/' &c. The present edition is also published by a different firm. ^ \_Volksschulen.'] Vm PEEFACE. my own. The general plan, originally sketched out by Dr. Raue, has been adhered to, because I was unable to propose a better ; and the matter also, it need not be said, remains the same, for truth does not change as the fashions do. The only thing needful was greater precision and clearness of statement, and, here and there, somewhat fuller details ; and in these respects all, I think, has been done that could fairly be required. Accordingly, I again heartily commend to a candid public, the treatise of this excellent man, who has lately been appointed Professor in the Medical College, Philadelphia. A translation of it into Flemish, by J, BlocMiuys^ Director of the Communal Schools at Schaerheeh^ near Brussels, appeared at Ghent, in 1859. ^ Deesslee. Bautzen, March, 1865. CONTENTS. PART I. NOTIONS. PA«B § 1. Man's Senses ....... 1 § 2. The Ground and Conditions of Seeing, Hearing, Sec. . . 2 § 3. Original Powers and Stimulants .... 4 § 4. On the Union of Original Powers and Stimulants . . 5 § 5. On the Sensibility of the Original Powers to Impressions . 7 § 6. Trace . ....... 9 § 7. On the Tenacity of the Original Powers. Memory . . 12 § 8. Gradations of the Original Powers in Respect of their Tenacity 13 § 9. The Similar and Allied unites with the Similar and Allied . 17 § 10. Rise of Consciousness ; Notions . . . . .20 § 11. Relation of Stimulants to the Original Powers . . .23 § 12. Perpetual Alternation of Consciousness and Unconsciousness . 25 § 13. Second Manner in which the Unconscious in the Soul acquires Consciousness and again loses it . . . .27 § 14. Vivacity of the Original Powers and its influence in rendering Notions conscious . . . . . .30 § 15. Origin of Concepts . . . . . .33 § 16. Gradation of Concepts . . . . . .35 § 17. Understanding ....... 39 § 18. P*roposition8. Power of Judging . . . .41 § 19. Reciprocal influence of Concepts and Perceptions when simul- taneously present in a Judgment . . . .43 § 20. Inferences. Inferential Powers . . . . ib. § 21. Additional Remarks on the Power of Judging and on the In- ferential Faculties . . . . . .47 § 22. Recapitulation . . . . . . .51 PAET II. CONATIVE POWERS. § 23. The Original Powers are by nature Active . . .55 § 24. Relations between Stimulants and Original Powers. Different degrees in which Stimulants are retained by them . . 56 b X CONTENTS. PACK § 25. Desires are developed out of Forms produced by Pleasurable Stimulation . . . . . . .60 § 26. How far Desires are engendered as a Consequence of the other Modes of Stimulation . . . . . . 62 § 27. Desires are at the same time Notions. Two different shapes in which Pleasurable Forms may be re-excited . . .64 § 28. Like Desires coalesce. Inclination, Propension, Passion . 67 § 29. Influence exerted on the Formation of Desires by the qualities of the Original Powers . . . . .69 § 30. Original Powers and Stimulants as Movable Elements . 72 § 31. Transference of the Movable Elements . . . .77 § 32. Strong and Weak Psychical Forms . . . .82 § 33. On Repugnancies . . . . . .86 § 34. Repugnancies are frequently connected with a Sensation of Pain, and are then more violent than they otherwise would be. States of Dislike 89 § 35. Repugnancies of a like kind Coalesce. Aversion. Detestation 91 § 36. The Influence exercised on the Formation of Repugnancies by the Qualities of the Original Powers . . . .92 § 37. Goods and Evils . . . . • .94 § 38. Unlike Forms also Unite with each other. Groups and Series . 97 § 39. Some Important Series of Psychical Forms : Cause and Effect; End and Means . . . . .103 § 40. Willing : Wishing 106 § 41. AU Similar Acts of Will coalesce. Formed Will . . 108 § 42. On the Will of Man 109 § 43. Recapitulation . . . . . . . 112 PAET III. FEELINGS. § 44. During our Waking Condition there are always two or more Psychical Forms present to Consciousness simultaneously, or in immediate succession ..... 115 § 45. All Psychical Forms differ more or less from each other . 116 § 46. When Two or more Psychical Forms are present together in Consciousness, we are immediately and simultaneously made aware of their Difference (the interval between them) : Feelings . . . . . . .118 § 47. Further Details on the Subject. Factors of Feelings . . 121 § 48. Extent of the Feelings : Freshness of Feeling . . . 124 COKTE^nS, XI PAQ« § 49. One and the Same Psychical Process may be at once a Notion, a Desire, and a Feeling ..... 126 § 50. Feelings of Pleasure and Dislike. Difference between Sensation, Feeling, and Perception ..... 128 § 51. Similar Stimulation does not always call forth the same Feeling 132 § 52. Feelings of the Agreeable, Sublime, and Beautiful. Immediate Factors of these Feelings ..... 134 § 53. The more Remote Factors of the iEsthetic Feelings . . 136 § 54. Feelings of the Strength of particular Psychical Forms . 141 § 55. Feelings of tbe Clearness, Obscurity, and Indistinctness of Notions . . . . . . .143 § 56. Estimation of Worth . . . . . .144 § 57. Gradation of Goods and Evils ..... 146 § 58. The original Constitution of all Men determines for them all a like Gradation of Goods and Evils. True Estimate of Value ........ 149 § 59, Solution of Apparent Contradictions ; false Estimates . 154 § 60. Feeling of Strength in Desires and Repugnancies . . 156 § 61. Immorality : Corrupt Will . . . . .158 § 62. Feeling of Duty : Conscience ..... 160 § 63. Moral Freedom, or Morally Free Will . . . .163 § 64. It frequently happens that several Feelings, some Harmonious, some Inconsistent with each other, are simultaneously Con- scious within us ..... . 169 § 65. Feelings of Gratitude, of Favour conferred, and of Mortification 171 § 66. Feelings of Honour and Glory § 67. Feelings of Liking and Dislike § 68. Feelings of Hope and Fear § 69. On the Faculty of Feeling § 70. Recapitulation . 173 174 176 177 183 PART IV. SUPPLEMENTARY REMARKS AND FURTHER DETAILS. § 71. Consciousness and Excitability. (What is Attention ?) . 188 § 72. Involuntary and Voluntary Rise of Consciousness. Certainty and Uncertainty therein . . . . .194 § 73. Direction followed in the Process of becoming Conscious . 196 § 74. The Explanation of these Phenomena according to the Old Psychology. Invohmtary Suggestions . . . 202 § 75. Memory, Recollection, and Imaginary Notions . , 205 Xll CONTENTS. § 76. Complete or Partial Quiescence in the Soul ; Sleep, Dreams . § 77. Consciousness of Psychical Processes, which depends on Special Concepts. Internal Senses, Internal Percept: § 78. On the Ego .... . § 79. On Reason and Rationality, or Capacity for Reason § 80. Varied Combinations of the Qualities of the Psychical Powers. Temperaments .... § 81. Force and Matter ; Soul and Body § 82. Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers . § 83. Final and Necessary Separation of Soul from Body, Death Continuance of the Soul after Death . § 84. Recapitulation ..... PAGX 215 221 228 237 240 253 261 272 PART I NOTIONS. § I. Man* 8 Semes, The sun shines ; the tree is in flower ; gold is yellow- : this we 8ee. The bird sings; the dog barks; wat^r murmurs: this we The stone is hard ; down is soft ; the mirror is smooth : this we feel by touch. Vinegar is sour ; honey is sweet ; wormwood is bitter : this we taste. Mould is musty ; the rose fragrant ; camphor pungent : this we smell. {a) The needle pricks ; the air is warm or cold ; smoke makes one's eyes smart : this we feel. {h) Hunger is painful ; colic and gout are agonizing ; thirst bums : this also we feel. {c) A long walk tires the legs ; protracted and rapid writing tires the arm ; much talking or singing wearies cur vocal organs : this too we feel. Since we are able to see, hear, touch, taste, smell, and feel, man is said to have six senses ; viz. the sense of sight y of hearing ^ of touch, oftastey of smell ^ and of feeling. The reason why they are arranged in this order is explained below ui§ 8. The note on § 46 explains why the sense of feeling is more appropriately called the vital se^e. The other senses are called organic, because the powers of which they consist require the co-operation of special bodily organs, in order to be stimulated /rom ivithout. Cf. § 75 at the end. Can it be said that man has a muscular sense 1 See § 14 at the end. All the senses just mentioned are external : the internal senses are treated of in § 77. B 2 7^e Ground and Conditions of [§2. § 2. The Ground and Conditions of Seeing, Hearing^ 8fc. A dead man cannot see, hear, touch, taste, smell, or feel, for he has no soul; hence whoever sees, hears, touches, tastes, smells, and feels, must have a soul. Moreover, one who has fainted away, or is in profound sleep, has a soul, and yet neither sees nor hears, &c. Again : there are persons in a morhid condition of soul, who though awake may he pricked with needles, burnt with hot iron, and yet not feel it ; who do not hear the report of a pistol let off by their ears ; who do not perceive the most irritating odours, notwithstanding that all their sense-organs are perfectly sound. Many a brave soldier has been seriously wounded in the fight, and yet he has only noticed it when the battle was over. Card-players are not unfrequently so absorbed in their game, that they neither see nor hear what is going on around them. So too, when ardently engaged in something which interests us, we do not notice what others are doing near us. A schoolboy does not hear what the master is saying, if his eyes are attracted by the tricks of a boy near him. In reading it often happens that we do not know what is on a page, which we have never- theless read from top to bottom. Consequently in order to see, hear, &c., it is not enough to have a soul ; that soul must direct its attention ^ to the things without it^ if seeing, hearing, 8fc., is to he actual. Hence we deduce the following : Because t". without a soul — when we are dead, no act of sense is possible ; and * The word 'attention* is here used in its very widest signification. Attention exists when the original powers in their as yet tinconscious state meet their stimulants in such a way that a lasting union between the two is rendered possible (§4). In its narrower signification it is the consciotus meeting of the homogeneous Trace (§ 6) already acquired and the ex- ternal stimulant now operating. It is impossible, however, at this stage to go into further details on this matter; it Avill become self-evident by-and-by. See a note in § 71. § 2.] Seeing, Hearing, Sfc. 8 Because 2". we only see, hear, &c., when our soul attends to the objects without us ; or, as we may say, when it receives and appropriates external stimulants (§ 4), it follows that the soul is the special ground of sense-acts : i.e. those of seeing, hear- ing, &c. The acts of the senses accordingly are acts of the soul itself, which however are only possible under the two following con- ditions : (a) A man who becomes blind, no longer sees : one who be- comes deaf, hears no longer : if one's finger is frostbitten, we no longer touch (feel) : while we have a violent cold we cannot smell ; and if the tongue is disordered, we either do not taste at all, or taste amiss, &c. Therefore in order to see, hear, &c., sound eyes, ears, Sfc, — in brief, sound sense-organs, are requisite. Yet it is not the eyes that see, the ears that hear, the finger that' feels, &c. ; the soul sees, the soul hears, &c. Eyes and ears are only instruments needful for those acts. In other words, the corporeal is not the cau^e of the so-called acts of sense — it is merely an assistant to, or help towards, sensation. Hence we may explain how it is that men occasionally, notwithstanding the soundness of their organs (cf. the examples above), do not see or hear, Ac. ; and conversely how the sensations thus hin- dered immediately return when the disordered organs of sense are cured — supposing, that is, that the soul is disposed to see, hear, &c. : on the other hand, an act of sense never takes place independently of the soul. Therefore sound sense-organs are the first condition on which the activity of the senses depends. Is it possible to produce the sound of a trumpet without a trumpet ? or is it possible for this instrument to be deranged (stopped up or perforated), if the breath blown into it (like the aoul) is to produce the intended sound ? Moreover, as the foliage of a tree is caused by something very different from the branches and bark : as, however, sound branches and bark are indispensable conditions for the foliage, so there is a similar reciprocal action between body and soul. (J) When it is dark I can see nothing, though my eyes may 4 Original Powers and Stimulants. [§ 3. be the best in the world, and though I may be ever so willing to do so : when nothing moves, I hear nothing, though my ear may be ever so acute, and my will ever so good : and however great my desire may be, I can neither smell, touch, nor taste the apple that hangs on the top of the tree. For Things without us must he capable of acting on our senses, and must actually affect them if they are to he perceived hy the soul : this is the second condition /or those activities of the soul which we call acts of sense, or sensation. The powers of sight, hearing, &c., in the soul do not reside merely in the organs of sense, but in the whole man, so that one cannot assign them any definite place. But as they reside in the sense-organs as well, they are there openly exposed as it were to impressions, and are immediately in- fluenced by the latter. Cf. § 75 at the end. § 3' Original Powers and Stimulants. As soon as it is born, a child, provided its sense-organs are sound, can at once see, hear, taste, &c. ; only it is unconscious that it does so. Consequently it brings the powers of seeing, hearing, &c., along with it into the world. As yet it knows not father, mother, sister, &c. ; it cannot distinguish between them : it can only do so at a later period. Still less is it able to speak, read, count, think, fancy, &c. ; it is obliged to painfully learn all this as it gets older. Hence we call the soul's powers of seeing, hearing, &c., the original powers, i.e. \h.Q first, primitive -^oweiB innate in the soul ^, out of which all other psychical powers and forces are evolved. Tor in order to do any more than see, >^hear, &c., the child requires special faculties, and these it must first acquire — and they cannot be made out of nothing. But however perfect its primitive faculties might be, the child * Or, more correctly speaking, of which the soul consists at birth. The soul and what is innate in it are not two things. In like manner * soul * and 'powers of the soul' are exactly the same thing. Man's psychical powers constitute his soul, just as the parts and atoms of the body compose and constitute his body : at the time of a child's birth these powers are less numerous than they are afterwards. See the next note. § 4-] On the Union of Original Powers, ^c. 5 could not perceive or apprehend if no objects from without af- fected them. (See § 2.) It can only see on condition that ob- jects are placed in the light, and so operate as visible on the soul : it can only hear if there is a noise and the vibrations stimulate the faculty of hearing, &c. All these operations of external things on the child necessary for seeing, hearing, &c., we call stimulants. So that we may say that for seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, smelling, and feeling, there are required : 1°. the original powers of the soul, and 2°. the stimulants of the external world. The latter are combined with the former so long as we are in the body, invariably through the medium of healthy organs of sense. § 4. On the Union of Original Powers and Stimulants. If you hold something before a young child, it turns its eyes to look at the object, perhaps seizes at it with its little hands in order to touch it, and possibly brings it into contact with its mouth in order that it may perceive (apprehend) it the better (on more sides than one). "We look at a distant object, but are unable to make it out distinctly. In that case our faculty of sight strains eagerly after the few stimulants of light in order to suck in (as it were) at least all that there are. "We hear a noise : it is not perfectly perceptible : we, as it were, set our auditory powers " on the watch for the least stimu- lant of sound, in order to make quite sure of that much. • ^ Every sense possesses not one power, but several, which from the first exist separately. The proof that this is so will be given below. But without proof we may here assert that it is not one and the same power of feeling which I affect when, for example, I stick a needle first in the right, then in the left foot j then in the right, and afterwards in the left arm j next in the neck, &c. : and, in like manner, it is not one and the same power of taste that is affected when I take different grains of pepper, salt, &c., on to the tongue, just as it would be impossible for me to hear per- 6 On the Union of Original Powers, 8fc. [§ 4* Briefly : our original powers do not receive the impressions [stimulants) of the external world passively^ without exertion, hut they strive and strain after them. (Cf. § 23.) I shew somebody a plant. Immediately his powers of sight strain after the stimulants of light which proceed from it: stimulant and primitive power unite, and he says, I see the plant. A bird is singing his joyous song on a tree. My faculties of hearing are directed to it ; and when the sound-stimulants proceeding from the bird are united with them, I say I hear the bird. "Which of these two sorts of paper is the smoother? You run the tips of your fingers over both until the soft stimulants proceeding from both are sufficiently united to your sense of touch, and then you say, I find ly touch that this kind is the smoother. Here you have a bit of sugar. Directly you put it on your tongue and break it up by chewing it, the stimulants unite with your powers of taste, and you say, I taste the sugar. I hold a violet before somebody's nose. He will keep his head down over it until the fragrance (stimulants) exhaled from it has united with his powers of smelling. "When that is done, he says, I smell the violet. Take a nettle in your hand. The very moment your powers of feeling unite with the stimulants proceeding from it, you say, I feel a nettle. For seeing, hearing, touching, tasting, smelling, and feeling, we also use the general expressions feeling or perceiving^, and because this is effected through the senses (original powers) we fectly distinct tones at the same time if I only had one power of hearing. What is implied if three distinct colours are seen at the same moment ? If the power of feeling, for example, were one and one only, must it not feel every impression at once everywhere, and therefore all over the whole body over which it is extended ? Here, too, it would be more correct to say that each sense consists q/" several powers. ^ The difference between sensation and perception is explained in § 50. In the present place we cannot enter into further details. § 5.] On the Sensibility of the Original Powers, 7 call this feeling or perception sensation^ or sensuous percep- tion : or, in one general term, sefisicous appreJiension. Accordingly, a sensuous feeling or perception is produced when the original powers of the soul unite with the stimulants of the external world, and hence we may say, Sensuous feelings or perceptions a/reformed ly the human soul in consequence of im- pressions or stimulants which reach it from without. Law of the Appropriation of Stimulants. § 5. On the Sensibility of the Original Powers to Impressions. There are people who perceive the smallest objects by sight, while others pass them by as if blind to their existence, and this too when they are not otherwise ecgaged. In like manner we find persons who catch up and distinguish in a moment the faintest sound that falls upon their ear, while others close by do not hear it at all. Savages and unculti- vated people in particular are remarkable for this acuteness of sight and hearing. Many can find out by the sense of touch the smallest uneven- ness in a smooth object ; others are incapable of doing so. Some notice the smallest addition of seasoning in their victuals ; with others a considerable quantity is necessary in order to strike their notice. Many are rendered faint by a disagreeable smell ; others are not in the least affected by it. A good many are extremely sensitive to warmth and cold, to stuffy air, &c. ; others feel the same impressions without incon- venience. Amongst brutes also we find proofs that the receptive power of the senses is in the highest degree different. Everybody, for instance, knows what a keen sense of smell is possessed by a fox or a dog ; what sharp eyes a hen or an eagle has, &c. ; how acute is the ear of a cat, how dull the touch of so many of the larger brutes, &c. Doubtless the construction and perfection of the bodily organs have a great influence here : the chief ground of these differences, so far as they 8 On the SensiUUty of the Original Powers, [§ 5. are constant, depends however (both in man and brutes) on the different constitution of their original psychical powers. The bodily organs are formed with more or less perfection according to the peculiarities of these powers. From all this we draw the following conclusion. The original powers are not all constructed alike. Thus in one man the powers of sight are fitter for, or more sensitive to, stimulants, in consequence of which they seize on very slight ones and unite them with themselves, whilst in others stronger stimulants are necessary to excite their psychical powers. And yet the auditory powers of the first may be duller, while he may perhaps have a more delicate sense of touch than one who hears acutely ; and so on through all the senses. In proportion then as the ori- ginal powers of this or that man, whether it be in one sense or another, are more apt or ready to receive these external im- pressions, in that same proportion do we ascribe to them a greater or less sensibility to stimulants. This is not anything apart from the original powers, it is only a property of them. The special original powers of one and the same sense do not differ in such a manner that, e.g. in me one power of hearing has a greater, another, a less capacity for receiving impressions of sound: these distinctions are only found generally in kinds of senses (in classes). The subject is pursued in further detail in § 80. Each sense is a totality or class (system) of powers each exactly like the other ; and this is what we mean when we speak of systems of powers, systems of senses. These systems, however, differ from each other in the peculiarity above described, as well as in some other respects. The word ' sensuous' has two meanings : (a) material, as sensuous ob- jects = material objects — sensuous impressions = material (external) im- pressions (stimulants) ; (b) capable of receiving external impressions. In the second signification only are the original psychical powers called sen- suous, or powers of sense. Yet they are, and continue, pure spiritual powers; and hence a more accurate designation for them is spiritual- sensuous powers. They do not require the co-operation of the organs of sense when (as will be shewn below) they perform purely internal acts : they require these organs only for the purpose of receiving what comes from without. For details see § 75 at the end, and in particular § 81. § 6.] Trace. § 6. Trace,, Somebody shews me a flower which I have never seen before to-day. As always is the case when I see anything, so now my original powers unite with the light-stimulants proceeding from it. What will be the consequence of this ? If I am questioned about the plant to-morrow, I shall be able to recollect it with perfect distinctness, while another who has not seen it at all wiU know nothing whatever about it. The same result would follow if somebody sang me a song, or let me smell and taste some aromatic substance, or indeed with respect to any object which I apprehend by the senses of touch or feeling. How does this happen? It is certain that the stimulants which proceed from all these objects and were united with my original powers must remain in them, i.e. in the soul. By this we are not to understand that particles of light, air, or odour, continue to exist in the soul independently or in themselves as they existed before that in the external world, but that they have become incorporated with or subjected to the original powers by which they were appropriated, and by that have become con- stituent parts of the soul, i.e. have become psychical elements. That this may be done without the introduction of 'matter' into the spiritual soul, as well as the mode in which it is done, is explained in §§ 8i and 82. By this appropriation of stimu- lants our original powers attain that definite development which corresponds to the objects affecting them : that object is repre- sented, as it were, mirrored forth in them ; and I am able to represent it to myself internally (to recollect it) although no stimulants may be now passing from it to my soul, when e.g. I am not seeing, hearing, &c. ; and such an act is impossible to one whose original powers have not appropriated any stimulants from the object. If these powers were lost when I no longer thought about the objects, or if the stimulants united with them were all to disappear, this internal repetition or recollection would be im- possible. Only a small portion of the stimulant however dis- appears, and the powers can in no case be torn from the soul — 10 Trace. [§ 6. indeed they are the soul. Although therefore the product of an act of sense becomes lost to consciousness, yet the original powers and the stimulants united with them continue in their mutual connexion, and with powers so developed I can set the object before me internally almost as clearly as if I were actually perceiving it. All that happens in such a case is that the powers which had sunk out of consciousness are again brought into consciousness. This continuance requires no explanation, for it is tolerably self-evident that what has once been firmly connected must continue to exist in that connexion, unless the two elements are disconnected again (resolved into their elements) ; and as the separation of a closely connected whole hardly ever occurs, it follows that the (developed) powers with their contents cannot be lost, although they seem to disappear (cf. § 17), when "we become unconscious of them. The only question is : What deprives them of consciousness and how do they recover it ? For the answer see §§12 and 13. Therefore, the /orw^^ primitive powers still continue to exist after they have sunk into the unconscious, i. e. have become unconscious ; and in becoming so they do not lose the formation or development which they received. They have only lost (as will be shewn) their activity; and hence their consciousness, wJiicli can only assert itself under excitement, is for a season quenched (as it were arrested) until it is revivified, and returns on a fresh excitement of the power. This may be expressed as follows : — Whenever external stimulants act on the original powers, pro- vided they do so with anything like completeness, a Trace of that stimulation remains in the human soul. Consequently, every such Trace consists of two elements : the stimulant itself is never a trace, but the original power con- sidered as connected with the stimulant received and retained is called a trace. Traces therefore are the formed original powers in their un- conscious mode of existence. It may be further observed, that not merely the original powers deve- loped by external stimulants continue as Traces. The same thing occurs § 6.] Trace. 11 with every product formed in the human soul with any degree of perfect- ness, and consequently we shall in what follows meet with Traces, which owe their existence to other acts besides those of the bodily senses. Again : in common language * Trace' generally means only a small por- tion of what has taken place — a mark of it from which we may infer what has occurred, but which does not enable us to reconstruct, to reproduce it. Thus cinders are a trace, a mark of a fire : from them however you • cannot renew the fire. In psychology on the other hand the word * Trace' \ has a more extended meaning; here it indicates a product in which the \ ^ occurrence itself continues in an arrested (latent, ^concealed) manner, be- T*~"~' cause its factors are to a greater or less extent preserved j and in propor- \ tion as they are so preserved the act may be internally repeated. The Trace therefore tarns to an act, as the act turns to a Trace. How long do such Traces continue in the soul ? To this no definite answer can be given. This however seems clear, that if no special cause intervenes to destroy or change them, they must last as long as the soul itself : of this there are many striking examples. Cf. Beneke's * Die neue Psychologic,* p. 126 sq. • ' The passage is this : " Seil, in his Theory of Fevers, reports the case of a peasant who during the paroxysm of fever declaimed Greek verses fluently : after his recovery he recollected that when a boy he had been instructed in that language along with the son of his clergyman, but in his healthy condition he knew nothing of Greek either before or after his illness. " Ahercromhie mentions a man bom in France who, from living in Eng- land (which he had done from his earliest childhood), had entirely forgotten his native language : in consequence of an injury to the head followed by a violent fever he recovered his knowledge of it. In consequence of a similar accident a patient in St. Thomas's Hospital began to talk Welsh, which in his sound condition he had quite forgotten from not having spoken it for thirty years. "A Roman Catholic peasant-girl (aged 25) during the paroxysm of a fever, began to declaim passages from Syriac, Chaldee and Hebrew works. She had been left an orphan as a child, and been taken into the house of a Protestant minister who was in the habit at set hours in the day of walk- ing up and down a long passage and reading in a loud voice and with much emphasis out of his pet authors in those languages. The kitchen where the young girl was generally sitting unoccupied opened into this passage, and. thus her whole attention had been directed to these strange and im- posing sounds, and in consequence they had become deeply impressed upon her." 12 On the Tenacity of the Original Powers, Memory. [§ 7. § 7. Ow the Tenacity of the Original Powers. Memory. Still there is a great difference between these Traces. Twenty persons see the same plant to-day. The same stimulants, there- fore, affect the visual powers of all ; and yet how different is the Trace left on the souls of each of them ! The morning after, some will be able to give an exact description of the plant ; others know nothing or little about it, and easily confound it with a different one. "What is the reason of this ? They say the latter did not notice it carefully. Yery good : but what is the reason of that ? Were they unwilling to do so ? '^0. The reason is a very different one. A Trace is, as we have seen, no- thing else than a power in which a stimulant has been received and retained^ although the power, along with its stimulant, may have become passive and unconscious. The more closely it ad- heres to that power, or the more perfectly it is held fast by it, in exactly the same proportion is the Trace more perfect, and in the same proportion we are able afterwards to represent the ob- ject internally with more vivacity and clearness. It is obvious, by the way, that larger objects consisting of divers parts, e.g. a tree, give rise not to one, but to as many Traces as there are distinct sti- mulants from it affecting the original powers. Hence, when experience proves that many men are unable to represent to themselves with such clearness as others objects which have equally affected both, we may infer that they do not retain such a firm hold over the stimulants as the others do, and the reason of this is not to be sought for in any difference in the stimulants themselves. Hence, whether a man retains a clearer and more permanent hold over objects which have affected his senses than others do, or not, depends on the peculiar qualities of his original powers, and we hence attribute to the original powers a greater or less degree 0/ tenacity or strength according to the different degrees in which they retain the stimulants which they have received^. * In the examples mentioned above, sensibility is a matter of consider- able importance (§ 5) j e.g. suppose the child had caught up only a very § 8.] Oradations of the Original Powers^ Sfc. 13 "What in common life we call a good or bad, a long or' short, memory depends on this property of the original powers. A memory is good or long when the stimulants appropriated by the original powers remain firmly fixed in them, so that after- wards we are able to represent internally to ourselves an object with all the clearness with which it appeared outwardly to the senses. A memory is short or had when the external stimu- lants appropriated are not held at all, or not held with mfficient firmness^ so that the original powers lose more or less the pecu- liar development wrought in them by the external stimulants. In that case the object cannot be represented internally with clearness without the help of fresh stimulants. Consequently, memory is not a particular power heside and distinct from the original powers, it depends simply and solely on a property possessed by them in consequence of which they hold fast to a greater or less degree the stimulants which they haA)e received. Briefly, it consists in the special amount of their tenacity ^. § 8. Gradations of tlie Original Powers in Respect of their Tenacity. Somebody, shews us a beetle, which we have never seen be- fore. Directly after .he mentions a peculiar name, sounding like nothing we have heard before. few stimtJants emanatipg from the plant, he would not be able to describe it accurately even if those few were retained in Extremely firm conn9;tion with his original powers But supposing him to possess the necessary amount of language, he must be able to aescribe that little correctly. If we suppose him incapable of doing so, we are justified in inferring that the stimulants were not retained with ^uflBcient firmness by the child's original powers because the latter were t©o weak to dp so. In many cases firm connexion is wanting because the act of. apprehension was defective, i.e. too faint and too fleeting.. See the preceding section. ^ For details see § 75, where we shall have to speak of the case where we retain with firmness that which' has not been produced by thg reception of external stimulants, and also shew h'bw this derivative memory is to be accounted for. ' • ^ '' -' - ■' ' ■ ' *'* 14 Gradations of the Original Powers [§ 8. Next day we are asked about the object, and its name. "Which of the two shall we remember with most ease ? Unquestionably the beetle, which we saw : the word which we heard, as a rule, we should not remember. Having experienced this frequently, we generally write down names, by which means they are more exactly imprinted on our minds the more deliberately we do it, and thus we retain them so firmly that we no longer need to look at the word we have written. How is this to be accounted for ? "Why does every- body in general retain a clearer remembrance of what he has seen than of what he has heard? Does not the proverb say ' One eye is better than two ears ?' From what has been already said we know this much about it : — We know that when an external stimulant is actually united to an original power a Trace is retained in the soul. (§ 6.) This trace is more perfect in proportion as a greater amount of the stimulant is retained — in short, in proportion as the original power is more retentive. (§7.) If then, as appeared above, a visible ohject is more firmly fixed in the soul than an audible one, it follows that the power of sight must be more retentive than that of hearing ; and that is the rea- son why we take better note of a word which we have seen writ- ten than of one which we have only heard. . 'No !' it may be objected, * that is not the reason: but what we gain through two senses we hold as it were twice over, and therefore with greater firmness. "What right have you to infer that sight must be more retentive than hearing ? All that fol- lows is that the visible and the audible in some way or other mutually support each other.* But certain as it is that such a mutual support is real, still that does not explain why everybody would sooner see an object than hear it described, or why the most uneducated man is con- vinced that he shall retain a simple visible impression with more certe-inty than one simply audible — and in consequence of which he always prefers seeing to hearing. The fact is comprehensi- ble when we reflect that while sight gives us things, hearing only gives us signs of Hings, and that signs without a knowledge § 8.] in Respect of their Tenacity. 15 of the thing signified are valueless. Besides, the sign requires to be supported by the thing if it is to be permanently retained ; and as we are able to form a more perfect image by sight, as it gives us in general a higher enjoyment of life than is the case with hearing, every one would sooner part with the sense of hearing than with that of sight, if a cruel fate required him to give up one of them. This superiority of sight explains several phenomena, e.g. a child when it hears the clock strike turns its head to see it as well : when we are at church we want to see the preacher as well as hear him. The visual powers not only form more per- fect Traces than those of hearing, but such Traces of objects have in themselves more value as representations than those derived from mere signs of things. Signs which we can see acquire by that something of the essence of the thing, and when apprehended they become rooted in powers of more de- cided retentiveness. Blind persons find their way about by touch. Their tactual perceptions are so clear that they are able accurately to dis- tinguish coins, faces, and other tangible objects. And this is possible only because this sense forms Traces with some impor- tant completeness, and it must therefore possess a retentiveness sufficient to enable it to do so. When a blind man recovers his sight he gradually gives up touching objects: he is satisfied with visual perceptions of them, just as all who enjoy that sense from their birth neglect the sense of touch because they find that the perceptions of sight are clearer and more definite. Hence it follows that the powers of sight have a stronger re- tentiveness than those of touch. What I have once seen, heard, or handled, I can afterwards see, hear, and touch (feel) internally almost as perfectly as if the former stimulants of light, hearing, and touch were operating on my senses. Take your absent relations for instance. You can see and hear them internally almost as clearly as if they were actually standing before you and talking to you. Now think of the taste of suga/r. It tastes sweet, yon say. 16 Gradations of the Original Powers^ Sfc, [§ 8. Very good ! but represent to yourself the taste of it as though you had at this moment a bit of it on your tongue. You will succeed but very imperfectly in doing so. What is the smell of coffee ? For this odour we have not so much as a special name. To smell of, to have an odour ^ to stinh — these are almost all the words not figurative that we possess to indicate odours. And what do we chiefly think about when sugar, coffee, &c. are mentioned ? About their colour, shape, &c. — therefore about that which we have perceived by our more powerful and reten- tive senses. Our sensations of the taste and smell of such ob- jects are associated with our other sensations of them : and with- out the help of these more retentive senses we should have but very obscure representations of things which we can merely taste and smell. Lastly, why is nobody able to recall the heat or cold^ or the toothache, which he experienced, with the same vividness as if they were actually now present } Why has everybody at the best a faint and imperfect feeling of them ? The reason is the same as that mentioned above. The powers of taste, smell, and feeling, are too weak, too much wanting in retentiveness ; — they do not retain their stimulants with sufficient firmness to enalle those traces to he left lehind which are neces- sary for reproducing the object internally as if it were now present to owr senses. Since the powers of sight, hearing, and touch possess a greater retentiveness than those 0/ taste, smell, or feeling, the former are called higher, the latter lower senses. Touch can only he reckoned among the lower senses in the case of those who can see, and who therefore cultivate the sense of touch slightly, if at (Ml. In all mentally healthy men the retentiveness of the original powers exists in the above order : in all, sight is the strongest, feeling the weakest. (Compare §1.) As to the immediate impressions of things, it seems in- deed that one sense is just as strong and retentive as another; but this is accounted for by the sensitiveness which in all the senses allows weak as well as strong impressions to be made. The degree of their retentiveness, § 9-] The Similar and Allied unites j Sfc. 17 however, can only be measured by the permanence of the impressions so made. No brute comes into the world with the same original powers (senses) as men possess, and consequently even at birth the souls of men and brutes are totally different. Though many brutes surpass men in the sensitiveness and vivacity of their sensitive powers, still the noblest brutes, like the elephant, horse, dog, «&c., do not possess that retentiveness in any of their senses which man does in those of sight and hearing. They retain what they have seen or heard with about the same perfectness that men retain what they have tasted or smelt. Hence it is that the cultivation of brute souls ceases after they have by the guidance of man reached with pain and difficulty a few of the lower degrees of improvement. Left to themselves they never advance. Compare § 80 at the end. § 9. The Similar and Allied unites with the Similar and Allied, "We have all seen a good many kinds of birds. When I men- tion dove, why does no one think of sparrow ? I say bench, and nobody recalls table ; I shew a knife, and no one says, That is diforTc. Touch this stone ; will you say it is soft ? Suppose I tried to convince a child that sugar tastes bitter and salt sweet; that a rose has a choking and hemlock a re- freshing smell ; that the warmth of spring is painful and a prick with a needle pleasant. He laughs and thinks to himself, * I know better. I might be persuaded that it is so had I never tasted sugar or salt, never smelt a rose or hemlock, or nevoTfelt spring warmth or the prick of a needle.* But all this he has done, and traces of all that he has seen, heard, touched, remain behind in his soul. (§ 6.) If he sees, hears, &c., the same objects again, he gains a new apprehension which leaves a fresh trace, in case, that is, an original power was not excited too faintly and momentarily ; for all seeing, hearing, touching, &c. is (be it well noted) never directly rendered possible by the traces left, but solely because an empty (unemployed) sense-power (original power) receives the stimulant, with which, if sufficiently stimu- lating, it unites, so that it becomes a similar trace if the object producing the impression is like, ^ow what will happen? Will the fresh trace remain solitary and alone in the soul, or will it connect itself with the traces already there resembling it, or 18 The Smilar and Allied unites with [§ 9. with those which do not resemble it ? It unites only with those like itself. This is clear from the fact that on any impression being made we always think of the like which we have already within: the present perception comes to us therefore as one already known; it only appears to us new when there are no traces like it already existent there with which it can associate itself. I pronounce the word hare to somebody who only knows English, and instantaneously the stimulating sounds of the word unite with the traces which he has retained from former hear- ings of the word. Had I uttered the word lepus he would have regarded me with astonishment, for those sounds could be con- nected with nothing resembling them in his soul ; and the same would be the case with alauda : whereas say lark, and the traces immediately operate, he recognises something before known, the fresh sound-stimulants and the old ones resembling them coalesce ^. In the notions which we owe to the senses of sight, touch, and taste we meet with this same union of the like. Look at this plate. Do you think of a window? Touch this rough stone: what kind of traces are excited in you by it ? Certainly not those of soft or smooth, but those of hard and rough, although you possess the former as well as the latter within. Taste this cherry, smell this pinh, hold your hand to this warm stove, and you certainly will not think of litter, mouldy, or cold. Things however which we see for the first time, words heard for the first time, fruits tasted for the first time &c. we call strange ; we do not recognize them, because the new perception finds no an- swering traces within us. ^ Do not confound notions of words with notions of things for which they are the names. The former reside exclusively in the sense of hear- ing, the latter in other senses as well (in fact, things produce very different effects on the soul), and whilst the former consist of our powers of hearing and sound-stimulants, the latter are composed of stimulants and totally different powers from the others. That they arouse each other is not there- fore to be explained from the nature of their constituent parts ; it is caused by particular associations whereby dissimilar forms are connected together. On this see § 38. §9-] the Similar and Allied. 19 Accordingly, we may and must say that — In the human soul everything that completely resembles another unites with it, fuses into one wJwle (form) '. Moreover : I was at the annual fair. A person whom I did not know came up to me, held out his hand, and said in a hearty tone : * How glad I am to see you again ! ' I looked at him full of as- tonishment, and enquired to whom I had the honour of speak- ing ? He then saw that he had made a mistake. * I beg your pardon,' said he, * I thought you were an old friend of mine : you are extremely like him.' The same thing has no doubt happened to most people. Little children who have not yet experienced the like of what is now presented to them use the analogous in its place : hence they call shillings, sovereigns, sixpences, flat buttons, 'pennies;^ everything hairy and soft is a * pussy cat;* clarionettes, haut- boys, flutes, are ' whistles ;' all men whom they do not know are 'papa,* women * mama,' &c. Even grown-up people talk about a * doctor,'' which includes very difi'erent persons — surgeons, ve- terinary doctors, &c. Such expressions also as ' this feels, tastes, smells, like this or that,' prove that in the human soul analogous stimulants {im- pressions) unite with analogous traces already formed. Hence : WTiat arises in the human soul hy sensuous apprehension unites in a whole, in one form, provided the several elements are like or analogous. Speaking figuratively therefore, we say * they coalesce,' ' fuse with each other ;' and the reason is, they attract each other. Law of the MutiMl Attraction of Similars. Hence is explained how and why the primitive sensations of the child must gradually harden into perceptions, or into what in the following paragraph are called notions. ' Every individual trace is of course a something formed (after birth), and therefore a psychical form : by a Form however we generally under- stand a something composed of several traces, and in that sense we shall generally use the word. 20 Rise of Consciousness ; N^otions. [§ i^* § lo. Rise of Consciousness ; JVbtions. The whole activity of the newborn soul is confined to this : it forms sensations or apprehensions by uniting external stimu- lants with its original powers ; in short, it apprehends sensuously (i.e. through the senses). (§ 4^.) No one is able to remember the first apprehensions of sense formed in his soul, l^o one's consciousness reaches so far back as that. The newly-born child sees, hears, &g., it is true, as the grown man does, i.e. external stimulants are united with its ori- ginal powers, as they are with those of the adult ; but the child knows nothing of that : its sensations or apprehensions are all of them as yet unconscious. How do they become conscious ? How this is managed we have experienced more than once. When we first went to school, the teacher shewed us, let us say, the letter B. "We apprehended it (§ 4), and a trace of it was left (§ 6). But were we at once clearly conscious of the letter ? Unfortunately we were not, as was proved when we were asked about it the next day. "What did the teacher do ? He made us look at it repeatedly and carefully, and pronounce its name after him ; we gained new apprehensions of it, and they all united themselves with the first trace which was left by it (§ 9). At length we became clearly conscious of it : though in other chil- dren whose original powers were not so strong as ours (§ 7) it did not yet become perfectly clear. The teacher, therefore, shewed them it again and again, until all had gained a clear conscious- ness of it. He treated the other letters in the same way ; and the result is that we are so fully conscious of all the letters of the alphabet, that our notions of them will certainly never be obscured as long as we live. ^ *To apprehend'=to seize upon, take up; ' comprehend'=understand. It is only in the developed soul that apprehension can be an intelligent, a clearly conscious act; not that it is always so even there; why? the reason will appear with greater clearness in what follows. [A note of more consequence to the German than to the English reader, since it turns upon the difference between anffassen a.ndifassen.'] § lo.] Rise of Consciomness ; Notions* 21 Some children have to learn a tune, and have already learnt many. How do they set to work ? The teacher hegins hy sing- ing to them a few notes slowly and clearly, and the pupils sing them after him. The process is repeated again and again. Then a whole series of notes are similarly repeated, imtil the whole tune is learned. Scholars soon notice that a tune of which they at first knew nothing becomes, by repetition, more and more conscious ; and at last they can sing it from beginning to end without the aid of the teacher. ^Now how did the consciousness of all the letters and of tunes arise in the souls of the scholars ? Simply hy this : they formed numerotts apprehensions of them and consequently many traces. The same has been found to be the case with grown-up per- sons who were born blind, and who have recovered their sight by a successful operation. At first they did not in the least know what they saw. All was obscure and irrecognizable ; nothing offered itself to their eyes as determinate and distin- guishable ; although they had a clear consciousness of what they heard or touched. In proportion, however, as they accu- mulated more traces of the same objects by repeated impres- sions of light, in the same proportion did they learn to see the clearer, and at last they beheld them with full and distinct consciousness. But since original powers are one and all at first unconscious, how does each sinyle original power which is necessary for every single apprehension gain its consciousness ? Answer : These unconscious powers possess from the very first an inherent capacity of becoming conscious, which capacity becomes actual, as soon as they are excited by stimulants, and the two are united : this is the sole condition of consciousness. Therefore original powers and stimulants, both of which are in themselves unconscious, yield consciousness by their union: such is the psychical law here predominant. Consciousness, however, depends more on the powers than on the stimulants. How was it that consciousness became stronger and stronger in the examples given above .^ 22 JRise of Consciousness ; N'of ions. [§10* Because each of these apprehensions was retained in the soul, and in consequence of their UTceness they coalesced into one whole. For eacli particular apprehension has its own consciousness, only it is very faint ; and though extinguished for the moment it is not really lost when the act of apprehension is converted into a trace (§6). The greater the numher of such similar traces that come together, the stronger must he the consciousness of the whole (form) so formed, when it is afterwards excited in all its parts. Further details in §§ 12 and 71. He who has seen an animal ten times obtains a clearer con- sciousness of it than one who has only seen it once, twice, or thrice ; supposing, that is, that the original powers of both are equally strong, &c. He who has heard a tune ten times will be more clearly con- scious of it than one who has only heard it once or twice ; pro- vided the original powers of both are equally strong, &c. The original powers which exist side hy side with the traces naturally remain completely unconscious until they are developed hy the appropriation of stimulants, and thenceforward continue to exist as traces. Why then is repetition so useful ? Why must a pianoforte or violin player repeat the movements of his hands and fingers many hundred, indeed many thousand times, in the same way before the needful dexterity is acquired ? Because here, too, all improvement depends on the formation of traces. When so many lihe traces have heen united into one form that we hecome clearly conscious of the object from which the stimulants proceeded, we say that we have got a notion (representation) of the ohject, or that we can form a notion of it ^ ' This notion is called a perception or intuition when it owes its pre- sent consciousness to the presence of an object now acting; it is called, on the other hand, an imaginary notion [Einbildungsvorstellung] (=a re- produced notion) when it is called up into consciousness not by the object itself, but by something else. (Details in § 75.) Moreover the term notion [Vorstellung] is applied not merely to the forms of the kind described pro- duced by external objects, but also to the concepts and perceptions of our own self-consciousness. See § 15 and §§ 77 — 79. §11.] Relation of Stimulants to the Original Powers. 23 The more receptive oi finer stimulants our original powers are, and the greater the firmness with which they appropriate and retain them, the more exact must be the notions which we gain of the object (§§5 and 7). With the rise and strengthening of consciousness there arises what is called mindy using that term in a vague and general sense. ' The mind awakens' only means that consciousness arises; for where no clear con- sciousness is produced, e.g. in the souls of brutes and idiots, no one talks of * mind.* The healthy human soul is spiritual-mental, i.e. one capable of clearer, more definite, more comprehensive consciousness than the powers of brutes are susceptible of; and this consciousness from the first, and up to a certain period, is necessarily developed with greater or less per- fection. By education, instruction, and careful self-culture this develop- ment may be infinitely continued, since the formation of new powers never ceases. The more tenacious these powers are (§ 7), the stronger and clearer is the consciousness formed in them, and hence may be explained the fact, that with man the mental and spiritual is produced mainly out of what he gains through the eye and ear : this strength and retentiveness proves to be the main source of his higher consciousness, of his spirituality or mind. The souls of brutes are not spiritual and mental because their powers are so much less retentive than those of man. For a somewhat narrow meaning of the words mind and spirit, see below, in the note to § 69. Compare especially the end of § 79. Has the human soul a consciousness independent of these forms, — has it therefore a general consciousness ? See below, § 71. § II. Relation of Stimulants to the Original Powers, "Whether a notion arises in the soul with clearness or the re- verse depends also upon something else as well. I arrived in the evening twilight in a strange neighbourhood. Somebody afterwards asked me to describe it accurately : I was obliged to say that I was unable to do so, for when I got there it was too dark to see it. I had, it is true, united (light) stimu- lants with my original powers, only they were too faint. Sup- pose I were to be often in the same place, but always when it was twilight, what would be the invariable result ? "We hear a word quite unknown to us pronounced at a to- lerable distance, so that it falls very faintly on the ear. We are asked. What was that word ? * We dou't know.* It sounded like this. The sound (stimulant of hearing) was too weak. And 24 Relation of Stimulants to the Original Powers. [§ n. if we were to hear that word a hundred times, but always as faintly, we should never get a clear notion of it. ISTow suppose we visit a place in Iroad daylight^ or hear a strange word distinctly pronounced^ and we shall have a clear notion of both. The reason of this difference is obvious. In the former case the stimulant was too little ; it did not sufficiently, so to say, fill the original powers : in the present case there is as much stimulant as they require for their modification : they appropriate it and retain it ; and as the magnet is strengthened when you give it as much to carry as is suitable for it, so the original powers are perfected and strengthened by a full degree of stimulant. In such a case a perfect trace remains ; and the more there are of ^uoh perfectly formed similar traces that unite in one whole because single original powers are excited fully and perfectly by the same object, in that same degree does the notion of the object perceived become clearer^. Hence we learn that : If a clear notion is to arise in our soul, there must he suffi- cient stimulant /row without, i.e. there must he as much stimu- lant as the original powers require for their formation, or, so to say, for their satisfaction : too little stimulants yield no no- tion, or at hest only an obscure one. If we gather together all that is required to produce a clear notion, we arrive at the following result : 1. The original powers must naturally possess sufficient power to retain the stimulants received (§7). 2. Lihe apprehensions must unite along with traces of the same hind into one whole ; and 3. The external stimulant must he sufficient, i.e. such as the original powers require for their perfect formation, or as it were to fill them"^. t ™ The remaining modes in which stimulation may be effected may be more suitably discussed in § 24. " The latter expression is ^urelj figurative, for our psychical powers are not liollow : still it is a fact that they take up a greater or less quantum of stimulants, and assimilate them, and that they are never satisfied and per- fected by too small a quantum of them. Compare § 24. Such figures of §12.] Perpetual Alternation of ConseiotcsnesSj Sfe, 25 It is self-evident that no sharp limit could be laid down where we could say that this amount of external stimulant is, and that is not, sufficient. This obviously depends on the different degrees of sensibility possessed by the original powers (§ 5) in this or that man. In every instance, how- ever, the law holds, that an exactly suitable amount of stimulant strengthens our powers, whilst too little makes them listless, too much over-excites and weakens them. § 12. Perpetual Alternation of Consciousness and Unconsciousness. Suppose a child has reached the age of ten, it has already ob- tained, in the way described, more notions than it could possi- bly count. Ko one knows the number of his own notions ; and, fortunately for us, they are never all present to consciousness at the same moment. For what confusion must arise if only twenty different notions were to start into consciousness at once ! When reading a book we have only those notions present which are necessary in order to understand it. All others are unconscious. When a man takes up a sum to do, he ceases to think of what he was just reading ; he only thinks of the numbers which he wants at the moment : and so on in all other cases. We are never conscious of more notions ° than we require p at the moment : of all the rest we are unconscious, i.e. they are not conscious. "What was consciously present to us at one moment we very likely cease to think about the next ; and during sleep, when not dreaming, all our notions are in an unconscious state, i.e. they are all unconscious. Accordingly there is a perpetual coming and going amongst our notions. Those that were conscious become unconscious, speech are, moreover, used in everyday life when we say : his heart is * filled' with sorrowful care, with fear, &c. ; his understanding is ' full' of errors. ° We cannot here speak of our feelings and acts of will where con- sciousness alternates in exactly the same manner; they will be considered afterwards. P The fact that, as well as the reason why, all the notions which we re- quire are not always consciously present, cannot be discussed till a later paragraph. Compare §§31 and 76. 26 Perpetual Alternation of [§12. those that were unconscious again become conscious. How does this happen ? In § 10 we explained how consciousness arises out of the ori- ginal unconscious state of the powers ; out of something there- fore which had up till then not been conscious. Consciousness thus arising is therefore the opposite of the not yet conscious. Traces, on the other hand, are, as such, unconscious and latent also; yet a developed consciousness is implied in that kind of unconsciousness, and it is not actual only because an exciting cause is absent (§6). Hence when they again rise into con- sciousness, we have a form of consciousness with a completely different opposite, viz. mere quietude from, or absence of, ex- citement. The renewed consciousness of these traces is accord- ingly no new product ; it is only a repeated (reproduced) con- sciousness, the renovation of former consciousness. The condi- tion of this renewal is excitement, which implies the presence of exciting elements. Hence If we a/re to lecome conscious of anything afresh tlie Traces already formed must he excited ly becoming united to ex- ternal stimulants. Accordingly, the moment we hear the bird's song, the notion 'bird' starts into consciousness. I should never at the moment I write have thought of a carpenter, if there had not been one thumping and hammering outside. (Cf. § 9.) The bird and the carpenter I have already seen, and con- sequently my notions of both have been produced by stimulants of light affecting my powers of sight and afterwards continuing in those powers in the shape of Traces. At the moment, they are excited by stimulants of sounds that is, by dissimilar stimu- lants ; whereas in other cases they are excited by similar stimulants. I only require to see the bird and the carpenter, and I should immediately become conscious of them both afresh, but then by stimulants of light. When I read a book the stimulants of light proceeding from the letters affect my soul, and by that means objects that I have seen, or heard, or tasted, or touched, &c., are excited into consciousness ; yet the present stimulants (the letters) are at any rate different from the earlier § 13-] Consctotisness and Unconsciousness, 27 ones through which I originally gained those notions (the notions of the letters themselves excepted). Hence it follows that the external stimulants by which Traces already formed are again brought into consciousness may be either similar or dissimilar. But how do consciotis notions become unconscious ? This must be produced by a similar but opposite process. If notions are brought into consciousness = excited by being united to fresh stimulants, we must conclude that when they become unconscious the reverse must take place ; i.e. a part of the fresh stimulant must be separated from these notions, mu^t disappear from them. In that case the notion ceasing to he excited becomes unconscious. A similar effect is produced by unemployed void original powers. (See the following section.) "We have seen what is the reason of the disappearance of stimulants in §§ 7 and 8. "We there discovered that The original powers, owing to their different degrees 0/ tena- city, retained the stimulants received hj them, some in a greater , some in a less degree; to which we must now add that even under the most favourable circumstances some stimulants are inevitably lost. The Law of the Disappearance of Stimulants. Whether these vanished stimulants completely disappear /row the soul or not will be examined by-and-by. § 13. Second Manner in which the Unconscious in the Soul acquires Consciousness and again loses it. I am sitting alone in my room. It is dark and perfectly still = no stimulants from without are acting on me. Is it impos- sible for me to he conscious of any notions ? Certainly not. I may be conscious of many. Very often in such solitude notions come tearing in one after the other. {a) Without my willing it, I fall to thinking of my past life, of the places I have seen, the men with whom I have associated, of ways and means to plans the execution of which will require me now to save up against the future, &c. (5) Besides this, however, notions come to me which / will 28 Second Manner in' which the Unconscious in [§13. to recall. For instance, / will to bring before my mind's eye the lovely groups of rocks in the Saxon Switzerland, and they rise up before me, although no external stimulant from them was acting upon my soul. You, dear reader, have the same power. Choose some object to think about which is not pre- sent to you, and from which, therefore, no stimulant can act on you. (The house of your friend, villages, cities, plants that you have seen.) Therefore notions existing unconsciously in the soul must he capalle of heing excited into consciousness ly something else besides external stimulants. "What is that something ? If it does not come from without, it must be in the soul. As yet, however, we have discovered nothing in the soul except original powers modified by the stimulants which they have received (Traces), and empty, unmodified original powers. Cf. §§3 and 4. Is there anything else in the soul ? We shall shew in §§ 30 and 31 that, besides the stimulants which continue to exist in the Traces, there are also stimulants contained in the unmodified original powers, which we may call free or unappropriated stimulants, and that the involuntary ex- citement of notions may be produced by them (therefore by in- ternal stimulants) just as well as by external ones. The example mentioned under {a) may be explained on this principle : for the present, however, we shall not discuss them further. "What is to be said of voluntary excitement, which, everybody knows, can only proceed from within ? I reflect in the evening (because / will to do so) for a long time in complete solitude on a certain object, = a mass of notions which were unconscious are for a long time excited (into con- sciousness), and that too without the help of external stimulants. After a time I find it impossible to continue my reflections. I observe that what excited these notions in me must have di- minished. So I go to bed and fall asleep. In the morning I at- tack the same object in the same solitude (it is winter time and not yet light) again, and I find that the notions in answer to my will recur to consciousness with double vivacity and freshness. vv § 13.] the Soul acquires Comciomness and again loses «V>sxA'20 ^^'^ This leads me to observe that what excited them into con^*^^;^:;:::^: sciousness must have been repaired during sleep. During that time no external stimulants entered my soul; therefore origi- nal powers must have been formed in the soul during sleep (see § 82), which now excite these latent notions into conscious- ness. I infer this from the fact that the excitement is not in- voluntary, but voluntary, obtained by effort; the night before it was impossible to effect anything when the void and un- employed original powers (these also are active^ see § 4,) had decreased. In accordance with the results hitherto arrived at there are therefore two ways in which unconscious notions may be brought into consciousness from within, and therefore be excited : 1°. internal stimulants resident in the unmodified original powers meet with these notions (find them out) and unite with them, and 2°. original powers as yet unstimulated, formed by the soul mainly during sleep, which also attach themselves to the stimu- lated original powers (notions). These, like the internal stimu- C^ lants, may again break loose from such notions, in which case these notions become latent. But in all this nothing actually leaves the soul. See § 31. These two kinds of internal exciting elements are also called elements of consciousness [Bewusstseinselemente] or movable elements. As already observed, the former kind of excitement is involuntary, the latter voluntary. The result of both is more or less uncertain ^ whilst involuntary excitement produced by external stimulants is always quite certain in its operation. For details on this see § 72. When psychical forms are excited into consciousness out of their un- conscious condition we say * they are reproduced/ or that they are * repro- ductions.' It appears from what has been said above that such expres- sions ought not to be understood as asserting that these psychical forms arise afresh : are we to suppose that the consciousness of them does so ? No ! rather that consciousness is restored to freedom — it becomes again active, for if once obtained it is never lost again. See §§ 6, 10, 12, and below § 71. ^- 30 Vivacity of the Original Powers and [§ I4' § 14. Vivacity of the Original Powers and its influence in render- ing Notions conscious. Somebody brings a sheet of pictures on which a number of familiar every-day objects are depicted, and there are twelve of us who want to look at it. He unrolls it, we all fix our atten- tion on it, and directly he whisks it away from before our eyes. He now asks, * "What were the things represented on it ?' Some are able to describe several ; others confess that they have no distinct knowledge of any of them. "What is the cause of this ? Some must certainly have heen able to see quicker than the rest. "We notice the same thing with people reading. Some require time to look over a whole line, others catch it up in a moment. "We catch stimulants quickest through hearing. Let any one think how rapidly the several sounds, syllables, and words suc- ceed each other in talking, and yet we do not miss one of them. With what rapidity do the notes in a piece of quick music follow each other, and yet we detect them all. No doubt there are differences in this respect between different men, some hear quicker than others ; yet on the whole the sense of hearing is in all men the quickest. As to the degree in which this may possibly depend on the bodily organs, see the middle of § 5. To the qualities therefore hitherto attributed to the original powers, viz. sensitiveness (§5), and retentiveness (§ 7), we must add Vivacity (Quickness), i.e. their efforts follow with greater or less rapidity, as we have already seen was the case with them in seizing stimulants '^. •1 The soul at the very moment of birth, before it has received any external impressions, when therefore it is objectively void [has acquired nothing from the outer world], still possesses a very important content in these three qualities of its original powers, to which must be added its innate laws of development, laws which we shall gradually become com- pletely acquainted with in the course of this work. Two souls acted on by the same objects must be very differently developed, if the sensibility^ § 14-] its influence in rendering Notions conscious. 31 This vivacity exists in a lower degree in the original powers of the other senses. Touch and the muscular sense (on the latter see the end of the present section) appear to possess it in the highest degree ; and it is notably manifested in the muscles of the fingers of practised pianoforte or violin players, in rapid writers, pillow-lace makers, &c., in a degree which almost equals the quickness of hearing. Stimulants of taste, smell, or feeling, if of different kinds and succeeding each ether rapidly, no one can seize and distinguish with accuracy. This class of original powers is naturally far slower and sluggish in operation. We must go a step further ; for the vivacity of the original powers is reflected internally. "We find men who are all life. They not only seize with ex- traordinary quickness all that meets their eyes and ears, but their internal changes ^also are very rapid, which would be im- tenacity, and vivacity of their respective original powers are different. If sensibility is low, little will be taken up ; if not tenacious, what has been apprehended is lost again ; if slow and sluggish, the elaboration and assi- milation of what has been preserved must be a very slow business. There- fore external agencies affecting the original powers can exist in them and be there elaborated, only so far as the nature of those powers allows j the qualities in question, and especially tenacity and vivacityy are impressed on all that the soul receives, and give it a permanent subjective character, which, however insignificant it may appear at first, must increase as the process of development goes on; for as traces are multiplied this subjective impress is multiplied to infinity. Is it true, then, that the soul is (as has been asserted) at birth * an unwritten tablet* {tabula rasa) ? Certainly not : it can only be called so as respects the objective, not as regards the sub- jective. Objects inscribe themselves upon it not as on a dead passive wall; for the soul is not a dead thing passively receiving impressions from with- out : it is something instinct with life, which necessarily imparts its own character to the impressions which it receives. Compare §§4, 23, and following, especially § 80. The reason why brutes never attain to human development is that their original powers have not the tenacity which is possessed by those of man. When, therefore, in the course of this book we talk of 'void* unem- ployed original powers, we mean by the expression those which have not yet taken up anything objective — anything from without, or which hare done so and afterwards lost it. 32 Vivacity of the Original Power 8 f Sfc. [§ ^4- possible if their original powers were not extremely lively. The notions which they have already gained are perpetually rising into and passing out of consciousness, as though one were chasing the other. This characteristic is apparent in their talk and in all that they do. We can see it in their very eyes. No other property belonging to our powers speaks so clearly as this does. Others, on the contrary, are in all their acts far more deli- berate and quieter ; whilst some are so very deficient in this vivacity that they dawdle over what ought to be done quickly, and only think, when it is too late, of what they ought to have said, or might and should have done. This greater vivaeity therefore in the original powers not only produces a quicher appropriation of external stimulants, hut also causes unconscious notions to start into consciousness with greater rapidity (§13). As has already been observed, it is the inhe- rent effort and tension of the powers which exhibits itself as this special kind of vivacity. When a man is extremely deficient in this quickness, we call him ' stupid,' just because he requires too much time to ' recollect himself/ i.e., to arouse those notions which may be needful in this or that case. He may possess them, but before his sluggish original powers have excited them all into distinct consciousness, it is too late. We must not therefore confound a stupid man with an ignorant one ; though dulness and ignorance often go together. The following may be observed as regards the muscular sense above mentioned : — In so far as there are muscles in our body which we use for the purpose of performing external acts, in so far we have a muscular sense. It is divisible into several distinct systems; the muscles of the finger, hand, arm, legs, eyes, vocal organs, &c. ; and we may with equal propriety talk of several muscular senses as of one. For each system has its special degree of quickness ; the muscles of the finger being the swiftest of all. Since the fingers include the sense of touch, it may be asked whether both are equally quick ? It can hardly be said that they are ; since even blind people (see § 8) cannot perceive a number of different tactual sensations in succession so fast as they can move their fingers. Still more sluggish is the vital sense ' (see the remark in § 46), where, as often happens, it is used as a sense of touch. That these muscular systems together constitute a ' [' Gemeinsimi,' here used as equivalent to the sensus vagus, vital sense.] §15.] Origin of Concepts. 33 completely special sense is shewn (a) by the peculiar sensations which arise from long-continued movements of the muscles, as well as from long disuse of them, and is still more clearly proved (5) by the important circumstance that the normal excitement of the muscles is always produced^rowt within {by the soul), whereas their excitement from without is abnormal, and gives rise to the phenomenon known as cramp. Cramp is rarely produced from within, e.g. in many persons at the sight of a spider, &c. j in which cases it arises from a too great mass of transferred movable elements. (See §30.) In many brutes muscular movements take place with greater rapidity than they do in man, whence it might be inferred that they must do more than man does in the particular dexterities to which they have been trained. But man alone possesses in his muscular powers the requisite strength for retaining his past movements (as Traces), so aa to raise his acquired dex- terities to a high degree of perfection. § 15. Origin of Concepts, Everything which we apprehend through our senses, with anything like perfection, leaves a trace behind it in the soul (§ 6) : and similar traces unite into one whole. It is thus that notions' (intuitions), whether clear or not, of external things are produced ; and of these we possess not a few. (§§ 9 and 10.) Now it will often happen that we become conscious of several different notions at the same time^ or at least in immediate suc- cession. For instance, we go out and see willows, limes, birches, alders, beeches, poplars, firs. What occurs ? We represent these things to ourselves in a mass. And what then ? What always takes place in the soul when things of the same kind come together, i.e. when we become conscious of them together : what is common to all these notions is strengthened and more closely connected together, because they are mutually attractive. In the case before us these are the constituent parts common to all trees : roots, a trunk, branches, twigs. Another thing also takes place. As we already know, exciting elements (movable elements) are the condition on which our psychical forms acquire conscious- ness, which increases or diminishes according as they flow to or away from these forms. (§ 13.) D 34 Origin of Concepts. [§ i5« Kow these movable elements of consciousness, by a constant law, always flow in the largest quantity to those forms which are most intimately connected with each other, or united. (See below, § 73-) Consequently these similar constituent parts in such intuitions, must, since they are most intimately con- nected, receive the largest share of those movable elements, whilst the dissimilar (diversities of colour, of leaves, height and thickness of stem^ &c.) are more or less deprived of them. But this is not all. The prevailing consciousness of what is similar according to § lo becomes at the same time stronger and clearer the greater the number of the similar parts which are excited together. In seven trees, however, which we see and figure at the same time we have the similar repeated seven times, while that which is peculiar to each, and therefore the dissimilar, occurs only once. Consequently we shall represent that which is common to every tree seven times more clearly and strongly than what is peculiar to each ; and as the movable elements are with- drawn from the dissimilar, it is natural that it should become, if not wholly, yet almost wholly, unconscious ^ Thus the concept Tree arises, i.e. a form in which what is common to the trees seen is as it were connected together for our consciousness, whilst their dissimilarities are (so far as conscious- ness is concerned) obliterated ; and this is the way in which all Concepts are formed. Every concept is a general or aggregate notion ; for it is always applicable to the whole class of things (intuitions) from which it was formed ; whereas an Intuition is only a singular notion — the notion of one thing which is exactly applicable only to the single object which produced it. Is the Concept dissolved again into its parts when conscious- ness leaves it ? I^o ! it only becomes unconscious, or a Trace ; for what is contained in it has been specially and strongly con- nected — how? On this see the middle of § 38. We are not to suppose that the Concept tears itself loose from the special intuitions to which it owes its existence : it is really the more • For the reason why the concentration of consciousness on particular points in the soul necessarily implies its withdrawal from others, see below, § 73. § i6.] Gradation of Concepts. 35 intimate connection of their similar constituent parts. Unless the intuitions which contain the similarities are simultaneously excited, no concept arises ; whereas it always does start up when they are sufficiently excited in this manner *. "When, therefore, there are no intuitions there can be no con- cepts answering to them. Hence a man born blind has no con- cept of ' Colour,' although he knows the name, the man bom deaf has no concept of * Sound,' nor can such persons ever obtain these concepts. Similarly those who live in equatorial regions are destitute of the concept * Ice,' nor had Luther any concepts of coffee, tobacco, steam-engines, &c., &c. § t6. Gradation of Concepts. In the last paragraph we have seen how concepts arise : that is to say, they arise of themselves, when the similarities con- tained in certain intuitions are thought of together, whether they are excited simultaneomly, or one after tlie other in immediate suc- cession. Concepts are readily interchanged with intuitions be- cause we have no special words for the latter : for as language has only names for concepts, we are obliged to call the intuitions by the same name as that which is applied to coyicepts. The only exception to this is in the case of words for unique objects, like Elbe, Danube, Blocksberg, Dresden, &c., &c., i.e. Proper names. All other words except these are class-names; and hence the * Concepts, therefore, are not produced, as is usually asserted, by * ab- straction' (by the withdrawal of consciousness), but by the combination in consciotcsness of those parts in our intuitions which resemble each other. No doubt consciousness is withdrawn, turned away, but only from that out of which the concept neither is nor can be formed. Abstraction, therefore, is a process which goes on coincidently with the formation of concepts ; but the important thing is the combination of elements (and the act by which the several points in common become conscious together). In calling con- cepts abstract (abstracted) notions we must be cautious not to let that expression lead us into error, not to misunderstand its purport. When we let anything fall out of our thoughts, or, in common parlance, when we forget it, consciousness is withdrawn from similarities and dissi- milarities alike. But who ever gained concepts by forgetting something ? 36 Gradation of Concepts. [§ i6, word house, for instance, is not the name for some one definite house, but for the whole class ; and if we mean some particular house, we must say, this house, that house, Senry's house, &c., &c. A general name requires such limiting terms in order that it may denote an individual. In order to shew how the formation of concepts proceeds from the more special to the more general we will first form a few concepts out of intuitions. Eepresent the following things to yourself: — Coat, waistcoat, jacket, trousers, boot, stocking, shoe, glove, cap. Every one has noticed these articles to be coverings for certain parts of the human body. The moment, then, he grasps all these one with another in consciousness, this common point forces itself upon him, and so there arises the concept, * Article of Clothing.' These objects have many other marks besides this, as, made of cloth, or leather, green, variegated, black, large, small, &c., but, very naturally, no one's consciousness is turned so strongly upon them as upon the mark of ' clothing.' For the latter occurs here nine times over, whereas the other marks are all different from one another, and consequently only occur once. Is it possible, then, for the mutual attraction of similars to produce in this case any other concept than that of ' article of clothing ? ' Exactly the same thing happens when we represent in imme- diate succession (as intuitions), knife, fork, spoon, plate, dish, table-cloth, napkin. These objects also are very different from each other : yet, as we are accustomed to see them used at meal- times, that mark forces itself into more distinct consciousness the further one proceeds with the representation of such things. ISTaturally ! for the same thing seven times repeated must yield a stronger consciousness than that which only occurs once, and thus we gain the concept, * table furniture.^ Again, Dwelling-house, Barn, Stable, Shed, Brewery, &c. l^o one ever saw them grow out of the ground as trees do ; every- body when he thinks of their origin finds that they have been produced (' built') by the hand of man ; and if this mark strikes § 1 6.] Gradation of Concepts. 37 us in the first, it will certainly not fail to strike us in the rest : it is, in fact, common to them all, and so they lead us to form the concept Building. Now think of these three concepts, Article of Clothing, Table- furniture, Building, together. They will yield the higher con- cept, Product of Art, as soon as consciousness is directed to the fact that articles of clothing, &c. cannot exist where there are no men to make and produce ; while, on the other hand, the concept, * Product of Nature,^ must arise when one is conscious of the already acquired concepts, Tree, Bush, Fish, Mountain, Stone, Cloud, Star, &c., simultaneously : for in this case every one allows that such things are not produced by man. Moreover, the concepts. Product of Nature, Product of Art, have this common mark, that all such objects are * extended in space and perceptible to the senses,' and if consciousness is turned away (a more difficult matter no doubt) from all their other marks and fixed on these two only, we gain the still higher concept Body '*. Accordingly we find that, Concepts arise in the human sotd because the similarities in different notions of individual objects (intuitions) mutually attract each other and fuse together into one whole; and as concepts so formed Juive also points in common, they in their turn coalesce, and hence arise new atid continually higher concepts. The con- dition on which this depends is, that the several fundamental notions (the intuitions and the lower concepts) should be excited together, should be roused into consciousness simultaneously. Compare §§15 and 38. On more attentively considering the gradations of these con- cepts, it is apparent that the higher the concept is, the more does it embrace — the larger the number of objects to which it can be applied. The lowest embrace merely the intuitions which are the only forms contained under them ; the higher embrace the « Of course concepts are not formed so rapidly as is represented in these examples : all that we wish to point out here is the manner in which, and the materials out of which, they are made. 38 " Gradation of Concepts. [§ i6. lower concepts as well as their intuitions ; for they are formed out of these fundamental forms, and cannot be formed out of anything else. The common points in these fundamental forms constitute the content of the concept, and what it embraces are the fundamental forms in general abstracting from their common constituents'". Accordingly the higher concept has a greater, a wider compass in proportion as it includes under it a larger number of lower concepts and intuitions, and so it is briefly called a wider concept. Do 'concept' and 'the content of a concept' differ as, say, a bottle dif- fers from the contents of the bottle ? Never : the content of the concept is the concept itself. * Concept,' however, and * compass or sphere of a con- cept,' are always two distinct things. Thus Fir, Birch, Pine, Ash, Larch, Lime, &c., are the compass or sphere of the concept 'Tree :' its marks, on the contrary. Roots, a Trunk, Branches, Twigs, are the concept itself or its content. The whole compass of a concept is indicated by the word all (or every), a ^art of it by the expression some, &c. ; as in the judgments. All trees are vegetable products ; some trees are Scotch firs. The greater the content of a concept the lower that concept is (the nearer it is to the intuitions), and conversely ; and the smaller its content the more objects does it embrace, the greater is its extension and the reverse. Is it possible for the higher concepts to be formed before the lower ones ? In the natural order of development it is not. Yet a child's attention is generally directed by its teachers to the universal before the particular ; e. g. it hears the word ' bird ' before ' lark,' ' tree ' before ' lime,' &c. ; and thus it is not directed to the special marks of these objects : this being * [" Das Gemeinsame der Grundgebilde macht den Inhalt des Begriffs aus, und was er umfangt, sind die Grundgebilde iiberhaupt, abgesehen von ihren gemeinsamen Bestandtheilen." Unless I am mistaken this sentence is somewhat carelessly expressed. * Rational mortal animal ' (or any other definition that we choose to adopt) is the content of the concept 'Man;' but the latter is appUed, says our author, to each and every man, ' abstract- ing from their common constituents;' whereas his meaning, I imagine, would be more clearly expressed had he said, ' abstracting from their special and peculiar constituents ;' i.e., the concept man is affirmed of a Negro, or an Esquimaux simply when considered as ' rational mortal animals,' and therefore when not regarded as being (what they are in fact) black, olive- coloured, of a certain height, age, &c.] §17.] Understanding. 39 so, no wonder the more general is formed in its mind before the particular. Such concepts are as a rule imperfect, and consequently of very little benefit to the child, whilst they easily impede the formation of the more exact and lower concepts. Concepts are more perfect in proportion as the original powers are stronger and more sensitive, and as the intuitions are more definite and richer. Why is it that those brutes which are most sensitive are never able to form concepts properly so called ? § 17. Understanding, The concepts hitherto considered always arise ultimately from ^x^exeni perceptions (intuitions), and therefore from the primitive union of external stimulants with the corresponding original powers. Hence, as they consist of the same elements (excluding dissimilarities) as the perceptions, and are produced by a more intimate fusion between the similarities of the latter, and at the same time by a peculiar and permanent connexion being esta- blished between them (see § 38), it follows that these concepts must remain in the soul unchanged until some special cause operates to destroy that fusion or to dissipate the perceptions themselves. We may convince ourselves of the truth of this by facts at any moment. If concepts once formed continue to exist, then those which were formed in us years ago must also continue to exist in us. Such are, e.g. the concepts long, short, light, heavy, white, green, mountain, house, man, brute, horse, dog, fish, &c. Do they still exist in us ? Every one will find that he has them. To concepts, then, may be applied the general principle : WTien once anything {a form) arises in tJve soul with any degree of perfec- tion^ it continues to exist there until some special cause destroys or dissolves it. In this respect it is with the soul exactly as it is with the ex- ternal world. There all that has come into existence lasts until some special cause destroys it. Take, for instance, stones, moun- tains, trees, houses, furniture, &c. Hence the permanence of 40 Understanding. [§ i?- any product in the soul is not a law peculiar to the soul, it is a general law of nature. We saw in § 6 that whatever has been produced in the soul with sufficient perfection is hardly wholly destructible : though it seemed to disappear, still it was only unconscious for a long period. IS'ow according to §§ 15 and 16 new concepts not only are ^produced from fresh perceptions which we gain, but these con- cepts themselves give rise to higher concepts. Such is the case in every man of sound mind. Their number increases the more perceptions we gain, the longer we live, especially if we are assiduous in seeking out the similarities of things. What is the advantage of gaining concepts ? The similarities of many notions constituting the stock of a concept are united and concentrated in it ; hence concepts must be psychical forms accompanied by great clearness of con- sciousness, for that clearness increases in proportion as more similarities are accumulated. (Compare §§ 10 and 15.) Consequently concepts bring light into the soul and impart their brightness to that with which they are brought into rela- tion (=that with which one brings them into simultaneous con- sciousness). Thus we arrive at an understanding of the object represented ; and this is the reason why we say of a man who does not understand a thing, that he has no conception (concept) of it. ^Farther on we shall meet with more exact details con- cerning the enlightening nature of concepts ^. On this account we call the sum total of concepts formed in the soul a man's understanding. Hence it follows that : Concepts are not the products of understanding, but that the understanding is produced by concepts. Before the formation of any concepts whatever, there is no y * I understand that/ ' I see or I comprehend that/ is tantamount to saying ' it is clear or obvious to me.' It is to be noted that the word 'concept' (Begriff) is frequently interchanged with 'intuition^ (An- schauung) : in everyday language the terms are used very inexactly. [A note rather for the German than English reader, 'concept' being with us a technical term never used in common life.] § 1 8.] Propositions. Power of Judging, 41 such thing as understanding in the soul — there is only a dis- position for it partly innate, partly acquired : viz. the law of attraction, and the sum of intuitions from which concepts are and must he formed. But if there is a totul want of all in- tuitions that law cannot operate. Why do we say, and say with truth, of a child a year old, that it has as yet little or no understanding ? When can the child be first said to have it, and how far does it then extend ? Why has the shoemaker no understanding in painting ? Why does the painter not understand how to make boots and shoes ? How comes it that the carpenter has no understanding in the building of ships, though he knows well enough how to build houses ? When we meet with men who understand, if not all, yet a great many things, what must previously have happened to them all without any ex- ception ? The nature of Understanding will be found thoroughly investigated in Diesterweg's * Padagogisches Jahrhuch auf 1858,' in an essay by Dressier, * Ueher das Abstracte.* § 18. Propositions. Power of Judging. I shew the following objects to a number of people — coal, soot, pitch, ink, a raven, mourning clothes. "What will every one think when he sees them? * These things are hlack,^ This proves that the concept ' black' exists in the persons present, and that it has been added by them to these intuitions. I exhibit an emerald, and they say, * the emerald is green? Here, beside the perception of the emerald, the concept * green,' a completely different one, starts into consciousness. I shew a bell, strike on it, and people say * the bell rings.^ Thus it may be proved in a thousand instances that, wTien we perceive anything, as a rule a concept rises into conscious- ness in addition to that perception. But why do not people say, pitch is red, the emerald is hlue, the bell runs ? The reason has already been given in § 9. The similar only can unite in the soul by mutual attraction. The concepts 'red,' ' blue,' and ' run' have, however, nothing in common with the 42 Propositions. Power of Judging. [§ i8. intuitions in question, and there being no similarity between the several forms, these unsuitable concepts are not excited. Hence, when we perceive anything, such concepts only start into consciousness as have been produced by the coalescence of the similar points in numerous perceptions of that kind. Moreover, if the similarities in the concepts black, red, green, blue, grey, violet, &c., coalesce, the higher concept, 'colour,' results. Suppose now I mention red or black, what will a man say ? * Eed (black, &c.) is a colour.' Consequently, a higher concept of like kind is often sum- moned into consciousness along with another. When that takes place — when, that is, (a) either a liTce con- cept is called into consciousness along with a {simple) perception, or (b) a higher concept of like hind along with another concept — the soul is said to judge. !Now what happens when anybody judges that the sphere is round ? that roundness is a shape or form ? It follows from what has been said that in the judgment we have the same Traces which occurred at first as intuitions (perceptions), and were then formed into concepts because the similarities contained in them coalesced with increasing force. A definite bond holds the constituent parts of the judgment (subject and predicate) together (see § 38), supposing them to have been excited together with sufficient strength ; and so long as this connexion holds, every judgment must continue to last in the soul (§ 17); it cannot vanish, it can only become un- conscious. Thus we gradually accumulate a large number of judg- ments, which lie ready for use in the soul as we may require them. The totality of all the judgments that have leen formed and that are permanent in the soul we call its judgment or judg- ing power. Is there any ground for the common assumption that judgment is an innate special faculty ? At what period may we say that the soul possesses the power of judging, § 20.] Reciprocal Influence of Concepts and Perceptions^ S^c. 43 and by what means is it rendered greater and richer ? Where is it, where must it be totally wanting ? What is the meaning of the proverb, * He judges as a blind man does of colours V § 19. Reciprocal influence of Concepts and Perceptions when simultaneottsly present in a Judgment, It may be asked what advantage is conferred by judging on the two forms concerned in it ? As regards the subject, we already know that it is brightened and rendered clearer by the predicate (by the concept), since the concept is always more vividly present to consciousness and clearer than is the intuition or lower concept, one of which con- stitutes the subject in the proposition. (See § 17.) But what does the predicate gain ? Suppose that the intuition oak as a subject is attached in consciousness to the concept tree (for a predicate). Intuitions are always younger than concepts, and therefore they consist of more lively or, as i)ne might say, of more vivacious elements — for the stimulants are the freshest thing in the soul. Now when .such fresh and lively elements are added to a concept, the latter is rendered more vivacious ; its depressed condition, so to speak, arising from the monotonous elements of which it consists, is rendered as it were more sonorous, or more full of colour ; and by that it is made more impetuous, it is in a sense made young again. In brief: the concept renders the perception more clear to consciousness, while the concept is rendered more fresh to con- sciousness hy the perception. In this consists the beneficial influence exerted by perception and concept on each other, when they are called up into consciousness together in the act of judging. § 20. Inferences. Inferential Powers. In the human soul there are very often several judgments con- scious at the same time. Take the judgments. 44 Inferences. Inferential Powers. [§20. All men are mortal. A Moor is a man. Here we have three concepts side by side, man^ mortal. Moor. "While the first judgment affirms * mortality' of all men, i.e. of the whole compass of that concept, the second declares that the Moor is included in that compass. "WTiat takes place ? ' Man' and * Moor' are similar concepts, for Moor is but another name for man — it only signifies a par- ticular kind of human being. Hence these two concepts will coalesce, but in such a way that Moor will remain present to consciousness. In fact, this concept is forced with special strength upon the consciousness, the consequence of which is that not it, but ' all men' is obscured, and almost vanishes from consciousness. The movable elements which kept it consci- ously present are withdrawn from the latter, and are attracted to the more strongly emphasized term ' Moor.' Hence the only thing the dissimilar concept ' being mortal' can do, is to attach itself to the term Moor, now vividly conscious : and so the in- ference (the inferring judgment) is drawn — (Therefore) the Moor is mortal also. If in two judgments there is a total want of similar concepts, though they may co-exist in consciousness, yet they can give rise to no new judgment, no conclusion, no inference. Suppose, for instance, The bird flies. The fish is aquatic. Here each is outside the other, and no inference is possible in such cases. As the concepts in the judgments. Iron is hard, and Honey is sweet, can never coalesce, so neither can the former. When therefore two judgments are rendered simultaneously conscious, and in them are contained similar concepts together with one dissimilar one, the similar concepts fuse together and a new judgment is produced; hecause the dissimilar concept must attach itself to that one of the similar concepts which in one of the judgments has been brought definitely and prominently into consciousness. § 20.] Inferences. Inferential Powers. 45 This process is called * drawing a conclusion %' and the as- semblage of three such j udgments is termed an inference. The first judgment is called the major proposition, the second the minory both together the premisses, the third the conclusion. It is the function of one of these judgments to put prominently- forward in its subject or predicate that concept on which stress is to be laid in the new connexion, or new judgment. As a rule the minor premiss does this, but the major may do it as well, because the syllogism is not affected by the external ar- rangement of the judgments composing it. Consider the follow- ing examples : All ignorant persons ought to learn. Little children are ignorant. Therefore, little children ought to be good and learn. Some animals are birds. All birds lay eggs. Therefore, some animals lay eggs. The emphasizing judgment is placed first in the second ex- ample (instead of All birds lay eggs. Some animals are birds), yet the conclusion is drawn in spite of it, because the attraction of similars is not affected by the position of the fundamental judgments. Accordingly an inference, as the preceding clearly shews, is nothing more than a complex judgment, which leads, without any act of ours, from the mere constitution of the concepts com- posing it, to a new judgment, to a judgment which is produced solely by the mutual attraction of similars *. * 'Schliessen' [to conclude, draw a conclusion] is derived, not from * zuschliessen ' [to lock up, close, conclude], but from * anschliessen,^ to attract, to follow, be added. [A note for the German reader merely.] » It is impossible in this place to give a more minute account of the nature of inferences and of the judgments on which they are based. For complete information concerning all these logical phenomena, see Dress - ler's ' PraJctische Denklehre, nach Beneke's Vorgange auf die Thatsa- chen der innern Erfahrung gebaut* Bautzen ; published by A. Weller, 1852. Price 27 Ngr. 46 Inferences. Inferential Powers. [§20. A conclusion once drawn continues to exist in the soul, partly because it arises from Traces which are already permanent, partly because the concepts composing the several judgments have been definitely and permanently connected. (See § 38.) Hence the soul perpetually becomes richer and richer in ready- prepared inferences. But as a rule we do not express them at full length, we abbreviate them : the first example may be thus shortened : being a man the Moor is also mortal. Here belong, if any one likes, negative judgments^, e.g. This flower is not an auricula. The major premiss would run thus. The auricula has one pistil, five stamens, &c. : the minor. This flower has two pistils, &c. : the conclusion. Therefore, this flower is not an auricula. As a rule, however, it is unnecessary to go through this lengthy process in order to draw a negative judgment : it may arise from the fact that we find something affirmed (by others, or by ourselves in consequence of an error), the contrary of which we now know, or afterwards discover to be true. Sup- pose, for example, somebody has declared, This book is a bad one ; we should correct the mistake, and say. This book is not a bad one, as soon as we discovered the error. It is just the same with our own mistakes : we shall and must sweep them away by negative judgments, the moment we are better in- formed. What we have hitherto said yields this result : The sum total of all the conclusions formed in the soul and per- manently existing there constitute man's Inferential Powers. When then may we say that Inferential Powers exist in the soul ? By what means are they rendered greater and fuller ? Since the souls of brutes, owing to the weakness of their original powers, are incapable even of forming concepts properly so called (at the best they only approximate to them), it is natural that they should be still less able to form Judgments and Inferences. ^ Judgments with a merely grammatical negative do not belong here : they are only verbal turns equivalent to logically affirmative propositions, e.g. that does not cost much = it costs little ; he is not industrious = he is lazy, &c. § 21.] Additional Remarks on the Power of Judging, ^c. 47 The mutual attraction of similar elements — a law which govfms the souls of brutes as well as our own— conducts them however to rombina- tions which may resemble judgments and inferences. The nobler brutes not unfrequently exhibit such ; though no brute attains to the clearness which is conspicuous in man under like circumstances. § 21. Additional Remarks on the Power of Judging and on the Inferential Faculties. In the majority of cases when we judge or infer, judgments and conclusions already formed are roused into consciousness ; for that which already exists in the soul does not need to he formed afresh. All that is required, then, are fresh exciting elements which cannot be wanting, and we have already leamt what they are in §§ 12 and 13. "Whether they proceed /row within or from without^ they unite with one of the forms of which the judgments or inferences consist, and in consequence of this, the other forms connected with them are excited, and the whole complex act re- turns again into consciousness. Compare § 38. But new judgments and inferences arise with the greatest facility, when concepts (whether already worked up into judg- ments and conclusions or not) are brought into connexion with new perceptions (notions) : e.g. suppose I have the concept ' Reptile,' I am able to judge, the first time that I set eyes on a lizard, * The lizard is a reptile ;' though without this concept I could not do so. At the same time it would be impossible for me to form this judgment, even if I possessed the concept * Reptile,' unless it were excited into consciousness simultaneously with the intui- tion of the lizard. Hence as regards the power of judging and the inferential powers the following important principle holds : The power of judging, and that of drawing conclusions, only acts on condition that the constituent parts of the judgments or conclusions presently to he formed are brought into con- sciousness together : consequently there must he no want of those elements which are necessary to excite unconscious forms. A man may possess the concept * metal,' and yet when he sees 48 Additional Remarhs on the Power of Judging [§21. platina it is possible he may not judge ' platina' to be a metal, either because the concept 'metal' may accidentally remain un- conscious, or because he thinks that platina is something else. Eut if / say to him, Platina is a metal, the sound of the word 'metal' will infallibly excite that concept into consciousness (why?), and then he judges, that platina is a metal. In this manner such judgments must arise in every one who has already obtained both the name and the concept answering to it. Accordingly we find that 1°. external stimulants cause judgments and conclusions to arise in the soul or merely to return to it^ and that too involuntarily, unwilled, lecause such stimulants light unerringly on those concepts and judgments with which they were already at an earlier period connected. I suddenly think, ' People coin ducats out of gold.' This is a judgment which has not been suggested from without by any one's having at this moment mentioned either ' gold' or ' ducats,' nor is it one that I willed to make. It occurred quite involun- tarily, and the question is, what led me to think of it ; that it is not now formed for the first time is clear. From what has already been said we know what the answer is, for there are also 2°. internal stimulants which attach themselves to uncon- scious mental forms^ and thus rouse them into consciousness ; and this form of excitement often occurs so much against our will^ that it disturbs, checks^ and confuses the desired course of our thoughts. But these are not the only ways in which unconscious forms attain to consciousness, and we should often be obliged to wait a considerable time and in vain, if we waited for such external and internal stimulants to arouse our judgments. Tor while they not unfrequently awaken more unconscious notions than we wish for or require, so they at other times leave us completely in the lurch. In that case there is yet a third means of excite- ment in our power. A man has to prepare an essay on a difficult subject. For this he requires concepts, judgments, and conclusions, all of which must already be slumbering unconsciously in his soul : for if he did not possess them he could never succeed in writing §21.] and on the Inferential Faculties. 49 his theme : at present he will not have the opportunity of pro- ducing much that is positively new ; he is mainly concerned with fresh combinations of what is already familiar to him. So he sits down pen in hand. A number of sentences occur to him spontaneously and unsummoned which he writes down, but really good propositions to the point are yet wanting. Indeed, on carefully reading over what he has put down, he notices that he cannot make any use of many of these suggestions, because they do not set his task in a right, possibly they set it in a wholly false, light. He now tries, strives to hit on something better, and lo ! the effort assists him. In spite of much un- steadiness in his quest after suitable judgments and conclu- sions, what he wants gradually makes its appearance, and what does not occur to him to-day, because his powers are weary, is suggested next morning with greater facility, the better he may have rested during the night : the freshly accumulated original powers give him new vigour, and his task is happily accom- plished. Therefore the power of judging and the inferential faculties are 3''. more vigorous, the more free unsatisfied original po\vers there a/re in the soul which voluntarily excite the unconscious forms. But there is yet a fourth thing of supreme importance here. "We meet with men who are certainly not deficient in concepts, the main constituents of judgments, nor in the void unemployed original powers necessary to raise the unconscious into con- sciousness, — for these are formed in them as they are in all other men, — and yet in all their judgments and conclusions (whether spontaneous or voluntary) they are so helpless that they, often to their own detriment, only awake to what is required when it is too late. Their original powers are deficient in the needful vivacity or quickness, as we have already seen, § 14. For the more lively the original powers are, the quicker do the internal stimulants act, the more quickly does the uncon- scious rise into consciousness, and the more quickly therefore do judgments and conclusions make their appearance. S 50 Additional Rema/rh on the Power of Judging, 8fc. [§21. Therefore it is proved, 4°. that the vivacity or quickness of the original powers is the main thing required for the activity of the judging and inferential faculties. Finally, if we consider the relation in which the power of judging and of drawing conclusions stands to Understanding, it is clear from the preceding observations that 1°. both are identical with Understanding, i.e. with the sum total of all the concepts already formed and existent in the soul, in so far that no judgment or conclusion can he formed without concepts ; seeing that the latter are in fact the essential parts loth of judgments and inferences ; 2^. but that both are different from the understanding in so far as that, in judging, definite notions are required to serve as subjects in addition to the concepts forming the predicates ; and in drawing conclusions besides the inferred judgment {conclusion), definite singula/r fundamental judgments {premisses) are neces- sarg. Add to this, 30. that in order successfully to handle judgments and conclu- sions, there must he no lack of internal and external stimulants, nor^ in particular, must there be any deficiency in unmodified free original powers. And lastly, that 40. in addition to all this, a higher degree of vivacity or quick- ness on the part of the original powers is requisite, since neither understanding, power of judging, nor the inferential faculties can operate, if the forms of which they consist remain unexcited, or are only excited too slowly. Besides this the following is clear. Since by all these forms [conception, judgment, and inference] we do more than un- derstand, we may with perfect right distinguish between under- standing in a narrow, and understanding in a wide, sense of the term. To the former belong concepts only, to the latter judg- ments and conclusions as well ; and consequently, in calling all these phenomena * intellectual developments or evolutions,^ we em- ploy a title long since in familiar use, and one eminently suitable to express their nature. Man has no innate faculty for this kind of understanding (understanding in the widest sense) given to him, except the greater strength and retentiveness of his original § 2 2.] Recapitulation. 51 powers, especially those of sight and hearing ; and hence you may, if you choose, call this strength and tenacity man's innate power of understanding (= capacity of acquiring understanding). It is evident then that we must distinguish carefully between iheformedy and the as yet unformed understanding. Of the latter there are several de- grees; for it consists at first in the mere strength or tenacity of the origi- nal powers, at a later period in the possession of acquired products neces- sary to the formation of concepts, judgments and conclusions ; — therefore, as regards concepts, in intuitions; as regards judgments, in concepts; and as regards conclusions, in judgments. § 22. Recapitulation, "What have we learnt hitherto ? I. The original powers of the human soul. "What do we mean by these? (§3.) Three different proper- ties attach to them in different degrees : I*'. Susceptihility to stimulants or sensitiveness y.hj which they seize on stronger, or it may be, weaker stimulants, and by so doing attain to a development corresponding to those stimulants. (§5-) 2°. Tenacity or retentive power ^ hy which they retain in a higher or lower degree stimulants once received (§ 7) ; and, 30. Vivacity or quickness in their action, by which they appre- hend, with greater or less rapidity, passing stimulants, and awaken consciousness in the soul with more or less quickness. (§§ 14 and 21.) Consequently the original powers of the soul are not some- thing merely passive or quite deadj they are on the contrary in a high degree living and active^ they catch up and assimilate external stimulants. The properties inherent in them and the laws of their development constitute a very important content for them, even while yet unexcited by external stimulants, with- out which they could never be developed into anything truly and characteristically human (§ 14, note). "What especially causes them to be manifested as mental and spiritual powers ? (§ 10.) The original powers which have been used up, i.e. formed 52 Recapitulation. [§22. into Traces, are replaced by fresh ones whicli are engendered for the most part during sleep. (§ 13.) II. The stimulants of the external world. They are divided into those which are appropriated by the powers of Sight, Hearing, Touch, Taste, Smell, or Feeling. As far as we have at present gone it has been found that their mass or quantity relatively to the original powers is of two hinds. Por either these stimulants affect the original powers in a sufficient degree (and this produces clear notions), or they are too small and little for them ; (in which case no notions result, or at best only obscure ones. § 11.) The psychical powers, at first unconscious, develope their capacity for consciousness into actual consciousness by uniting with the stimulants which excite them, and consciousness so produced continues to be connected (though arrested) with the act, after it has ceased to be excited : (it continues connected in the 'Trace'). (§§ 6 and 10.) III. The fundamental laws operative in the soul <^. 1°. Sensuous (what is the meaning of this?) impressions^ and perceptions are formed hy the human soul in consequence of •= By the expression Law of Nature is meant all those exertions of force (processes) which take place in a uniform and harmonious sequence ; and the superior leading laws are also called fundamental laws, or processes. It is only the latter kind that are here intended ; derivative or subsidiary laws are deducible from them at once, for they are only particular modes in which the more general laws work together. Since the soul is of a spiritual nature there are such things as spiritual laws of nature. Let not Force and Law be confused together. Along with forces are always included the laws of their activity (action), for the term Maw' means nothing more than regularity, uniformity of action. Similar (regu- lar) action, however, is something totally different from similar force. Thus men, trees, and grasses always grow upwards, i.e. they act similarly, or obey, as the expression goes, one and the same law. But does that im- ply that they are themselves (= the forces of which they consist) similar ? ^ [' Sensuous sensations' is somewhat nonsensical English for sinnliche Bmpfindungen ; I have therefore been driven to depart from the equivalent for the latter word elsewhere constantly employed.] § 22.] Recapitulation. 53 impressions or stimulants which affect it from without. (§ 4.) Law of the Appropriation of Stimulants. This follows from the fact that the original powers strive after, tend towards, satisfaction by means of stimulants (§ 4), and that they are at the same time retentive (strong, tenacious) ; in conse- quence of which impressions once made on them must be per- manent. What is a Trace? (§6.) What is Memory? (§7.) The permanence of these Traces is no special law of the soul, but a universal law 0^ nature (§ 17.) 2°. Everything which is of the same kind unites, fuses in the soul into one whole, for similars are mutually attractive. (§9.) Law of the Mutual Attraction of Similars. The new stimulant coalesces with the Trace allied to it ; and thus all Traces of a similar kind are more intimately united when they are excited simultaneously or in immediate succession. Consciousness becomes clearer, the larger the number of similar Traces united in one whole®. (§ 10.) In like manner the simi- larities of many different notions or perceptions blend together, and hence arises a concept. (§ 15.) Again, when the similarities of several distinct concepts coalesce, the result is a higher con- cept. (§ 16.) What is the Understanding ? When, along with a perception, a similar concept, or along with a concept a similar but higher concept, rises into con- sciousness, a judgmetit is produced. What is the Power of judging? (§ 18.) What are the mutual influences exerted in a judgment by Concept and Perception ? (§ 19.) ' The original powers, as well as the newly-formed ones afterwards added to them (which must also be termed original powers, seeing that their performances and functions are identical with the former), are, not- withstanding their individual character, indissolubly connected together, and constitute one completely unextended (unspatial) whole, namely, the soul. These, therefore, are connected together from the first. The mu- tual attraction of similars, however, leads to still more intimate union be- tAreen them : they fuse together, and by thus doing, they, without giving up their original connexion, constitute smaller wholes, which are still more strongly and intensely united. Cf. p. 5, note. 54 Recapitulation, [§22. When the similar concepts in two judgments coalesce in .con- sciousness we have an inference. (§ 20.) What are the inferen- tial faculties ? (§20.) "What is particularly advantageous for the exercise of the power of judging and inferring ? In what does the deficiency of stupid people consist? (§§ 21 and 14.) On the relation of the judging and inferential powers to under- standing. In what sense may it be said that there is an under- standing in a higher and a lower sense of the term? What is the difference between formed and unformed understanding ? (§ "•) 30. The full stimulant is not permanently retained ly the origi- nal powers : on the contrary, a portion of it is always released hy them {though it does not therefore disappear from the soul) ; and more of it disappears in proportion as the original powers are less tenacious (§§ 5, 7, 8, 12.) Law of the Disappearance of Stimulants. In consequence of this, the excitement necessary to bring psychical forms into consciousness is withdrawn, which effect, however, is also produced by the transference of original powers : in this case these forms become unconscious, and they only re- turn to consciousness when that loss has been supplied by fresh internal or external stimulants, or by void unemployed original powers. Hence we gain a simple explanation of the perpetual alternation between consciousness and unconsciousness, whether it be spontaneous or voluntary. (§§12 and 13.) Amidst this incessant change, consciousness is, so to say, alternately fettered and then again set free (by the recurrence of excitement). In other words, the act becomes a Trace, and the Trace in its turn an act. The powers involved in concepts, judgments, and inferences, or of which they consist, are the same which, as original powers, are developed into sensations and perceptions. They only coa- lesce in a peculiar manner because they are evolved in a similar manner ; and that they, amidst this fusion, preserve their spe- cial forms as other traces do, is owing to a special connexion established between them, and caused by special elements, con- cerning which we shall meet with further details hereafter. r55 It?— 21.^ FA.TEIT II. CONATIYE POWERS [Strebungen]. § 23. The Original Powers are hy nature Active. We have already seen in §§ 4 and 14, that the original powers of the human soul do not passively receive the stimulants of the external world — in the way in which a tablet with nothing upon it quietly lets me paint or engrave on it whatever figures I choose — on the contrary, they strive after stimulants with more or less quickness ; they are essentially activet impulsivey or impulses^ because they are living powers. Compare the note on p. 30. Example? of all kinds prove this, not to repeat those men- tioned in §§ 4 and 14. Rich Englishmen, unable any longer to endure the torment of ennui, i.e. ignorant how to pacify their original powers, which desire to be satisfied and made use of, have before now committed suicide. I have seen children who, from superabundance of spirits, did not know what to do with themselves, and so amused themselves with the silliest pranks, merely because their instructors did not give them some suitable occupation. In the prisons of "New York, if criminals will not obey the j rules of the place, they shut them up for a few days, without j work of any kind, in solitary confinement. After a short time, j ; they earnestly beg for something to do. They are unable to j I resist the striving of their original powers after stimulants. ' ■ "We see from this that. The original powers of the human soul are naturally active ;.^ for, before they begin to be developed, they are endowed with '^ a definite impulse after the satisfaction derivable from stimulants. Therefore the activity (striving) of the human soul is contained originally in its primitive powers. 56 The Original Powers are hy nature Active. [§ 23. Moreover we find that in a young child its active visual powers have absolutely no preference for one kind of light- stimulant over another : they join as readily with the blue sti- mulant as they do with red, yellow, &c. ; they seize on what is angular as easily as upon what is round, long, &c. The same thing is true of the powers belonging to all the other systems. The auditory powers strive generally after sti- mulants of sound, the tactual powers generally after those of touch, the powers of smell generally after those of smell {odours), and so on. The inference is that, The original powers tend naturally and at first, not after this or that individual definite stimulant; hut rather their activity is directed, in a completely general manner, to satis- faction hy means of their corresponding stimulant. An innate determinate effort or desire exists in them only in so far as the powers of sight strive after stimulants of light, those of hearing after sounds, &c . ; or as, generally, each system of powers strives after those stimulants which correspond to its peculiar constitution. No soul brings into the world with it any articulate desire or striving, i.e. a desire for any definite, individual object. How, then, do these definite desires for special objects come to exist in the human soul ? In other words, how does it attain to impulses of a defi- nite kind ? We shall endeavour to obtain a clear answer to this question in the following paragraphs. § 24. Relations hetween Stimulants and Original Powers. Different degrees in which Stimulants are retained hy them. We have already been introduced to two of these relationships between stimidants and powers in § 11, where we learnt that, i°- The external stimulant is often so weah, that the correspond- ing original power is not completely filled hy it, and is consequently not satisfied and perfected: e.g. when we look at an object in the twilight, or from too great a distance ; or when a sound is too faint for us to hear it clearly, &c. § 24-] Relations between Stimulants and Original Powers^ Sfc. 57 This is what is called half -stimulation. In this case stimulant and power are only very loosely connected, and if repeatedly excited in this manner, the power soon loses its activity. The feeling immediately produced in the power hy this treatment is called dissatisfaction or dislike. 2°. The stimulant is exactly commensurate with the power that receives it : in such a case it is firmly appropriated : e.g. when we look at an object in a clear light, or hear a sound at a con- venient distance. This is called full stimulation. When fully excited, the power is better able to appropriate and retain the stimulant, and our immediate feeling in such a case is that of satisfaction. But it is, 3°. somewhat different when a number of lights are burning in a room, as all children know in the case of a Christ- mas-tree. The mere recollection of it brings a smile into their faces. It is true that they would have been pleased enough with their Christmas-boxes, if they had received them by the light of only one candle, or by daylight : but to get them when ten, twenty, or more little candles are sparkling on the tree is certainly an additional pleasure. "What is the reason of this ? Somebody repeats to us Uhland's charming poem, — " Bei einem Wirthe wundennild, Da war ich jiingst zu Gaste, Ein goldner Apfel war sein Schild, An einem langen Aste." &c. This pleases us. Then he sings it, and that causes us still more pleasure. Next, he accompanies his song on the piano, and that quite enchants us. How is this to be explained ? The more light the more stimulant: again, the greater the volume of sound, the more stimulant. But the light of a single candle suffices to enable us to see an object clearly ; i.e. our visual powers are sufficiently filled by it. (§ 11.) Moreover, in order to make that poem perceptible to the ear, there is no need that it should be sung ; for our auditory powers are sufficiently filled when it i^ distinctly recited. 58 Relatiom between Stimulants and Original Powers. [§i 24. Consequent^ when ten or twenty lights are burning, or when that poem is sung, and the piano icoomnanies it, more stimu' lants affect the original powers than they require for their satisfaction. They are thus thrown into a state of still greater excitement; they are, as it were, set swinging \ and the immediate feeling at- tendant upon this is Pleasure. Hence we call it pleasurable excitement. The power in tWs case loses in ability to retain the stimulant, but gains in activity and tension. Compare § 32. But 4°. this not unfrequently leads to a different result. In my neighbourhood somebody kept a trained starling which whistled the old Dessau March in a very comical manner. It was indefatigable, repeating it certainly ten times in an hour. At first I was much amused, it no doubt produced in me a plea- surable excitement ; but in a few days I became so heartily sick of its whistling, that I wished the industrious musician further. I suppose that you have some favourite dish. Just eat it every day, and you will soon become disgusted with it. Brandy drinkers have been cured by soaking everything they eat in their darling brandy. At first they like it, but that does not last long ; they acquire such a loathing for it, that they can scarcely endure its smell. In all these cases more stimulant acts on the original powers than they really need for the purposes of satisfaction. They are thus set, as it were, on the swing, which at first causes a feeling of pleasure. But if this great abundance of stimulant aifects our original powers constantly and repeatedly, they must natu- rally be over-stimulated, fatigued, deadened; and we immediately perceive that by a feeling which gradually arises, and which we call satiety, disgust. Even full stimulation, if long continued, leads not unfrequently to the same result. Hence we call all these gradual over- stimulations of the ori- ginal powers, excessive stimulation, (stimulation to satiety). In this case a large number of stimulants are collected together, » {^gleichsam in /ScAwmw^ '= made to oscillate, quiver with excitement.] § 24.] Relations between Stimulants and Original Powers. 59 but naturally they are only loosely connected with their corre- sponding powers. Lastly, 50. it occasionally happens that a stimulant much too strong affects our original powers suddenly ; e.g. when we sud- denly come out of darkness into a bright light. This causes us considerable pain^ and we are unable to endure the sudden glare. Or a gun is suddenly lei off near us, or we take a large dose of some pungent essence into the mouth, or we smell at a phial full of some strong smelling liquid, or unawares put our hand into the fire, or receive a violent blow on some part of the body. In all such cases over strong stimulants are at work which the original powers cannot assimilate, and they act suddenly. These powers must be at once overcome, over-stimulated^ and weakenedj and all this we perceive directly with a sudden feeling of Fain. Hence, all such sudden over- excitation of the original powers we call painful stimulation. In such cases the appropriation of the stimulants is at its minimum ; indeed, a considerable portion of them are not appropriated at all, and only a few of them are re- tained by the power. This excess of stimulation may, as experience shews, be so violent, that the original powers once weakened in this manner may never recover their strength again, in which case the freshly formed ones prove equally weak ; and hence impaired vision, and even blindness, difficulty of hearing, and perhaps deafness, &c., may follow from it. It is hardly necessary to mention that these five different relationships between stimulants and powers do not actually occur in the sharp and de- finite forms in which we have described them ; half-stimulation sometimes approaches to full stimulation, and this to pleasurable stimulation, &c. It is equally clear that any power receives a different inclination or tone, and retains it in the shape of a trace, according as it is developed under the one form of stimulation or the other. Under what relations do pleasurable dispositions arise ? or the three different feelings of dislike ? The internal disposition of the soul, so far as it is permanent, depends, in the main, on both these leading kinds ; and hence we may call these acts, when con- tinuing as Traces, ybrms of disposition {affective or emotional forms). May we include among them notions which are neutral between pleasure and 60 Desires result from Pleasurable Stimulation. [§25. dislike ? Unquestionably : they dispose the soul to moderation, to peace- able behaviour. What common language designates as * Temper' [Gemiith] is only the sum of those dispositions which are caused hjjoi/ and sorrow; and a joy- ous and cheerful temper, as well as one melancholy and depressed, &c., is no innate force or power of the soul, but only an assemblage of individual, single forms of disposition [Stimmungsgebilde]. For further details on 'Temper' see below, § 69 at the end/. §25. Desires are developed out of Forms produced ly Fleasuralle Stimulation. Let us first recapitulate what we have just stated. It often happens that a more powerful stimulant acts on the original powers than they need /or their satisfaction; and yet without its being, properly speaking, immoderate. This sets them directly, so to say, on the swing, i.e. it more thoroughly excites them, (§ 24). Pleasurable stimulation. When the stimulant is exactly suitable to the original powers, they take firm hold of it : it is thus that clear and distinct no- tions arise (§ 11). Pull stimulation. Now the question arises, what is the further effect of a plea- surable stimulation ; that is, of the preponderance of stimulant oyer the original powers ? In such a case we generally express ourselves as follows : ' we were dazzled by the presence of so much beauty and splendour,' or ' the magic of those sweet sounds enchanted us ;' * we know very well that what we saw or heard, &c., was uncommonly lovely, beautiful, glorious ; but we are unable to describe it exactly.' Therefore when the stimulant preponderates over the power, we do not gain such clear and distinct notions as we do when we observe an object which only produces an efi'ect exactly suitable to such a power. Powers greatly excited, set as it were on the swing, are not so ready to appropriate stimulants which pour in upon them with such extraordinary force, they can there- fore only appropriate them loosely and imperfectly. Put that yields no clear and distinct notions. § 25^ Desires result from Pleasuralle Stimulation. 61 Therefore when more stim'ilants affect the original powers than they are able to assimilate (which is the case in pleasurable stimu- lation), it follows that the stimulants can only he retained in a diminished degree. From this it follows further that, If it be true, as it is, that even when a stimulant is firmly appropriated, a portion of it is always detached from the power (in consequence of which conscious notions again become un- conscious § 12) ; then when a stimulant is only retained in the loose, imperfect manner above described, a still larger portion of it must vanish from the power that appropriates it. What will the effect of this be ? I have eaten an apple : its taste was delicious ; how I wish that I had another like it ! Somebody sang a lovely song: I shouted encore! until he sang it again. There was a splendid picture hanging there : I felt impelled to come back to it again and again to gaze at it, and could hardly satiate my eyes with the sight of it. Somebody had a snuff-box. He kept on constantly opening it and taking a pinch. How is all this to be explained ? "We already know that. The original powers are from the moment of birth, active, and they continue to be so until they are satisfied by stimulants (§§ 23 and 11). Therefore in so far as a power that has been satisfied with stimulants afterwards loses any of them, so far does it again become active and desiderative. "When I ate the apple I experienced a pleasurable stimulation ; accordingly that stimulant was only loosely appropriated, and on that very account a portion of it vanished from the power, "What was the consequence ? The original powers thus ren- dered poorer in stimulants began to strive and desiderate afresh, and what is more, they strove after that stimulant by which they had just been filled : what I desired was another apple like that which I had eaten. Thus, also, in the above instances, our auditory powers desi- 62 How fa/r Desires a/re engendered [§ 26. derated the same melody, the visual powers the same picture, tlie powers of smelling wanted to be satisfied again with the stimulant of snuff, because they had all of them lost a. por- tion of the stimulants which they received We find then that. When the original powers have lost a portion of the stimulant which they have received, they immediately recover their original activity and desiderative power ; only with this difference, that they no longer desiderate satisfaction hy stimu- lants generally and vaguely, lut they strive after that exact stimulant ly which they have been already modified. That is to say, they never lose the whole of the stimulant ; and the portion of it that is retained, determines what direction the renewed longing is to take, that is, towards a like stimulant. This brings about definite impulses. Therefore in the void unmodified original powers there exists only a general striving after stimulants; whereas after they have been stimulated, and have lost a portion of the stimulant, this impulse is directed to a Definite object, and is called Desire. How, then, do special, definite desir s arise in the human soul ? Never when stimulation is full and perfect. It must be pleaswrahle stimulation which leads to the formation of most of our desires ; for our whole nature is so constructed that what does us good cannot be other- wise than welcome. § 26. Sow far Desires a/re engendered as a Consequence of the other Modes of Stimulation. If you shew a child half of any object it will want to see the whole of it. We take pains to make out that which we only hear indistinctly. The same is the case with insufficient stimulation in all the other senses. Since the original powers are not completely filled by such half- stimulation, the part in them which is left unfilled directly seeks to be satisfied, and hence, under such circumstances, we always find a desire generated for the object which causes this § 26.] as a Consequence of the other Modes of Stimulation. 63 unsatisfying stimulation. Now if you continue to stimulate a child's powers in this unsatisfying manner, and never give it full, complete stimulation, it will be found that its efforts after satisfaction will cease. Its powers are relaxed, lowered in tone, weakened by the recurrence of unsatisfying stimulation, and therefore at last they cease to act at all **. If it were possible to bring any one up exclusively ^ or for the most part, under the influence of such half-stimulation, he must become short-witted, however promising his disposition might be. Experience has proved this in the case of those un- happy persons who have been immured for a considerable time in damp, dark, gloomy dungeons. When an exactly suitable amount of stimulant acts on the original powers, it is firmly appropriated, and they are per- fected into clear and distinct notions. Notwithstanding, how- ever, a portion of the stimulant always vanishes from the power afterwards, as we saw in § .12; the consequence of which is that what was excited ceases to he so, and thus becomes un- conscious. The loss of the stimulant always causes a renewed appetition for one like it on the part of the deprived power. Hence, full stimulation must also produce desires, though in a lower degree ; because, owing to the firmness with which the stimu- lants are appropriated, only a small portion of the power is deprived of them, becomes void of stimulant, and therefore active or appetent. Thus, it often happens that we wish to see again a work which we have contemplated when the stimulants operated fully upon us ; we desire to hear sounds again which have caused us pleasure, &c. In most cases, however, full stimulation so entirely satisfies our powers that their activity and appetency is completely pacified, and they only retain a dis- position to renew the past in consciousness. In the case of over-stimulation (stimulation to satiety) it is impossible to deny that the powers may be moved to desire satisfaction again by the same stimulants. We see this in '• Repug nancies y however, are hence generated ; see below, § 33. 64 Desires are at the same time Notions^ Sfc. [§27. drunkards, gluttons, debauchees, who often desire fresh gratifi- cation at the very time when they feel disgust at their past excesses. But there can he no more than a dull appetition in each particular power, because it has been over-excited and weakened by long-continued stimulation, which naturally requires some time to disappear. That the drunkard, &c., however, feels a strong impulse towards fresh enjoyment, is explained from the great number of traces which have been for so long kept alive within him. If we turn to painful stimulation we shall find that it yields no results as far as the question before us is concerned. I have never yet met with anybody who, after being deafened by some sudden and violent report, desired to hear such an one again. The same is the case with blinding by a dazzling light, sud- den and pungent impressions on taste or smell, burning, hard blows, &c. And it is very natural that a desire for a second effect of the kind should not be formed. For the powers are so weakened by such sudden impressions, that they must lose their original elasticity. From all this we see that no kind of stimulation is so suitable for the formation of Desires as the pleasurable. In such a case the power not only remains at nearly its original force, but it also acquires, through the fulness of the stimulant, a peculiar modification which consists in this, that its original appetency or activity is intensified. In it also, owing to the loose unstable connexion between stimulant and power, a very considerable portion (but never the whole) of the former vanishes directly, and thus we have a case where both conditions are fulfilled under which in particular a definite appetency, i.e. a Desire is possible. Compare § 32. § 27. Desires are at the same time Notions. Two different shapes in which Pleasurable Forms [Lustgebilde] may be re-excited. Before, therefore, a desire can arise in the soul, an object must have acted on our powers, and the most favourable manner § 27-] Desires a/re at the same time Notions j 8fc. 65 in whicli it can do so is, as we saw in the preceding §, pleasur- able stimulation. ^N'ow we already know from § 4, that when external stimu- lants unite with our original powers, sensations are produced, and by constant repetition (§ 10) perceptions or notions'^. If, therefore, a flower has often excited pleasure in my sense of sight, there will have been formed in the same powers not merely a desire for it, but also at the same time a notion of it : for a union between stimulants and original powers took place, and all the stimulants have not vanished. Only a portion of them disappear, and it is only to that extent that our powers become again appetent — only to that extent has a desire been engendered. Hence we form a notion of all things that we desire simulta- neously in the same act, or, what amounts to the same thing, in the same psychical form. As is clear from all that we have hitherto said, all the forms of our soul spring from acts : they are, whether they be simple or complex forms (see the note on p. 19), nothing but acts in repose, or traces; and when they are aroused from that repose they recur as acts. Consequently one and the same form of the human soul may be of a twofold nature ; partly a desire, partly a notion. It is a notion^ in so far as the stimulants ^kie permanently retained ; a desire in so far as they have vanished from the powers, and are now again sought after afresh in definite stimulants (§ 25). Notion and desire accordingly are in such cases only two different shapes (modes of development) of one and the same form (act) ; they are positively not two different forms. When any such form (engendered by pleasurable stimulation) is again excited, one or other of these shapes or aspects may be brought into special prominence; it may be reproduced sometimes in the one shape, sometimes in the other. If the pleasurable sti- mulant has been firmly retained, or if what it has lost has been ^ On sensations and perceptions, see § 50. "* This notion must always be one of pleasure, because it was formed under pleasurable stimulation. P 66 Desires a/re at the same time Notions^ ^e. [§27. replaced perfectly by other like stimulants (see § 13 and in particular § 31), the form excited takes the shape of a plea- surable notion [Lustvorstellung] (recollection of pleasure) ; if, on the contrary, it has not been retained, nor had its place supplied, it returns as a desire for pleasure *. Hence we arrive at this very important principle, that plea- surable forms are capable of a twofold re-excitation (reproduc- tion) : partly as a recollection of pleasure, partly as a desire for pleasure ; or thei/ are manifested in two modes of repro- duction. Is it possible that in many forms one of these shapes may become permanent f Certainly it is. There are men who must always desire again what they often desired at an earlier period (see the following §) ; because the powers in the Form in ques- tion have become incapable of permanently appropriating the stimulant which they receive, and which forthwith vanishes from them. The powers of the lower senses are naturally less capable than others of firmly retaining their stimulants, and hence they reproduce their pleasurable forms almost exclusively * We shall see below in § 49, how far a third form, that of Feeling, may belong to it. Moreover, no psychical form, not even one of dislike, is totally divested of all traces of a notion : we always form to ourselves notions of what causes us unpleasing emotions, and in fact, in the very same act; for a portion of the stimulant proceeding from the object abides in the power receiving it, and, at the moment it produces its effect, the stimulant can- not have yet disappeared entirely. Notional forms are more prominently conspicuous in the class of desires, [i.e. whenever we feel desire of any kind we have a more distinct notion of the object required, as well as of our subjective state, than is the case with the other psychical forms just alluded to,] because in them stimulants are more numerous and more intimately incorporated with our powers, than in forms of displeasure or dislike when the notion is always obscure. Under all circumstances the clearest notions arise in the second mode of stimulation (i.e. full stimulation), and they are then neutral between pleasure and displeasure : it is exactly for tbis reason that they cannot be the source of our actions ; they mainly furnish us with the knowledge (theory) of objects: they constitute us theoretical, specula- tive, and not practical beings. § 28.] Like Desires coalesce^ Sfo. 67 in the shape of desires (§ 29). In the higher senses, on the other hand, cases often occur where a former pleasurable im- pression always recurs as a recollection of pleasure, simply because these powers are vigorous enough permanently to retain their stimulants. Other pleasurable forms are susceptible of both modes of re- production, either always, or at least at first, and until one or other of them has become definitely fixed to the exclusion of the other. § 28. Like Desires coalesce. Inclination, Fropension, Passion, We have already seen, in §§9, 16, 18 and 20, that in percep- tions, concepts, judgments and inferences, the law holds that similars in the soul always coalesce with similars. Are we to regard the desires as forming an exception to the rule ? Whenever I eat new potatoes, I ought, as I am told, always to drink a small glass of kiimmel [carraway-brandy], for health's sake. I am not fond of brandy ; however, I asked for some. I relished the first glass because the kiimmel was capital, ex- cellent — I was pleasurably stimulated — and it did me a world of good. The second time I liked it far better than the first, and so matters went on till I had finished the bottle. I ate potatoes again, and in a moment I felt as if I must again take a drop. I was on the very point of getting the bottle refilled when I became aware how strong my desire had become, and, as I believe, not a moment too soon. I got the better of my- self, and thought of that woman who was ohliged, as she used to say, to get up in the night and have a talk with her bottle. She, too, began by taking a small glass of liqueur after dinner to promote digestion. And does not every drunkard do the same? That man, then, who is perpetually opening his box to take a pinch, at first very seldom took snuff, only perhaps when some one offered him his box. But presently so strong a de- sire was formed in his powers of smell that he could no longer 68 Like Besires coalesce ^ Sfc, [§28. wait until somebody offered him a pinch ; he bought himself a snuff-box. A rich Englishman was very fond of beautiful flowers, of which he possessed a large number of kinds. One day some- body offered him some handsome and rare birds; he bought them ; by-and-by he added to his stores a collection of minerals, which cost him a good deal of money. The more people praised his * taste for natural history,' the more did he increase the ob- jects of which he was so fond, nor was he able to resist this inclination until he found himself beginning to run in debt. These examples suffice to prove that similar desires coalesce in one whole or form, though the objects which engender them may he very different. Thus arises what in common life we call inclination^ propen- sity, passion, according as the number of desires which unite into a whole is small, great, or very large. In common usage, however, propensity and passion are often both called ' inclinations,' so that this expression is sometimes taken in a narrow, sometimes in a wide, sometimes in the most extensive sense ^ ' " These three species of strongly associated traces may he distinguished from one another in the most precise manner hy considering the modes in tvhich they can he awakened into consciousness. ' Inclination ' [Neigung], in the narrow sense of that term, is excited into consciousness when the diflFased elements (see §§ 30, 31,) are directly transferred to it; ' Propen- sion ' [Hang] is aroused even when an opportunity for its display is in- directly and distantly suggested : whilst ' Passion ' [Leidenschaft], owing to the extraordinary multiplicity of the traces united in it, lies so near to consciousness, that it may be said to always exist in a state of semi-con- sciousness ; it is always, so to say, on the very point of attaining to full and perfect excitation the moment the soul is left free from other activities and modes of development. " The highest degree in which this multiform association of such traces or forces can exist, and the products thence determined, is, in common life, called by the name of Vice [^ Laster ' =zv\ce, crime, what weighs down or oppresses]. The inclination weighs down the soul to such a degree that it is totally unable to free itself from the burden." — {BeneJce's " Lehrbuch der Psychologic," Ed. III., p. 126 sqq.) [A note of more consequence to the German than to the English reader.] § 29-] Influence exerted on the Formation of Desires^ ^c. 69 Can we be astonished then at the extraordinary strength and power which the inclinations manifest in so many men ? As the trunk of an oak consists of thousands and thousands of fibres, so are these the aggregate of thousands upon thousands of desires. Every desire was at first simple. But as fresh ones were perpetually being formed, each fresh impression of pleasure exciting and modifying some fresh and single original power, we must suppose the law of the Mutual Attraction of Similars to have become inoperative, if similar and allied desires did not coalesce and mutually strengthen each other. The only question that can now be raised is how the redly the objective element in desires, can allow them to flow toge- ther, since undoubtedly that element is not unfrequently very heterogeneous, as the above example of the Englishman shews. The following § will afford a partial answer to this question ; but the important point in such a case is the well-known law of experience, that a variety of different objects mutually ob- scure each other in consciousness ; and the more so in propor- tion as a larger number of them are excited together. Bring only ten different notions into consciousness at the same mo- ment, and not one of them will be clear, however clear they may be when presented singly. But this obscuration does not diminish the appetency of the powers of desire. Compare § 73 at the end. The sum total of all the desires that are engendered and per- manent in the soul (whether simple or complex) is called manh desiderative power, or his desires. With what does it begin ? § 29. Influence exerted on the Formation of Desires ly the qualities of the Original lowers. 1°. Tenacity, If a desire is to be engendered in the human soul we have already seen in § 25 that a portion of the pleasurable stimulant must vanish from the power, and a desire is produced only in so far as this occurs (§ 27). Now, since, when the tenacity 70 Influence exerted on the Formation of Desires [§29. of the original powers is very great, the disappearance of the stimulant is proportionately less, it is clear that a very high de- gree of strength and tenacity is not requisite in order that desires may he formed. Hence it is that we find most of our desires and passions engendered in the lower senses : examples are furnished by gluttons, drunkards, snuff-takers, tobacco-smokers, &c. And yet, on the other side, the formation of strong desires g and passions necessitates a certain degree of tenacity on the part of the original powers. For such are produced solely in consequence of the fact men- tioned in the preceding §, viz. that all similar desires coalesce into one Form, which implies that the individual desires are per- manent in the shape of traces (§§6 and 17.) If, then, the original powers were so weak that no Traces, or only insufficient traces, were left by each fresh desire as it arose, what we call inclination, propensity, passion, could never be produced to all eternity. Hence may be explained why idiots and brutes never deve- lope passions, though they do inclinations. Congenital idiocy consists essentially in an abnormal weakness of the original powers, a weakness which is always to be found in brutes, but is, in their case, normal. Such powers let the greater portion of the pleasurable stimulant which they have received loose again, they do not retain that high tension which is produced in strong powers by pleasure, and consequently nothing but faint, weak Traces, are left behind. In consequence of this, B Between Begierden [strong desires] and Begehrungen [desires strong or weak] there is, properly speaking, no difference. Still, as commonly used, Begierden indicate over-strong desires [zu starke Begehrungen] and, therefore, inclinations manifested with some notable vehemence. To talk of inclinations and strong desires [von Neigungeu und Begierden] as though these words indicated two different kinds of things, is an error; just as there are no "Impulses" [Triebe] beside and apart from inclinations and strong desires, for the desires in all their shapes are impulsive, or im- pulses. [Again a note of less interest to the Englishman than to the German.] § 29.] ^y t^ Qualities of the Original Powers, 71 therefore, they no more exhibit passions than they do clear notions and concepts ; but it must be admitted that both idiots and brutes have inclinations. Are not our domestic animals inclined to do repeatedly what they have been taught and trained to perform ? Do they not acquire likings for particular persons, places, enjoyments, &c. ? A very high degree of tenacity, therefore, is not required to form inclinations, but a certain degree of it is indispensable in order to form strong desires and passions. All desires, even those of the lower senses, grow, in healthy men, into passions, if pleasurable stimulation is perpetually repeated, and they thus acquire a strength and fixity which is often quite invincible. Take such instances as love of drink, of gaming, of ruling, of money, of finding fault, &c. The inclinations of the higher senses, though they are strength- ened by the coalescence of desires, never, of themselves, attain to that clearness of consciousness which is acquired by notions which grow as Traces are accumulated ; the reason is, that in the desires the stimulants are no match for the powers. Clear consciousness only arises where stimulant and power are in equilibrium. Compare §§ 11, 24, and 32. Hence may be explained why most men know so little about their own in- clinations, although the obscuration mentioned in p. 69 con- tributes largely to that result. 2°. Sensibility. If a desire is to be generated in the human soul, the powers of the latter must be pleasurably stimulated (§§ 25, 26). Now, when the original powers are such that they can seize on weaker stimulants and unite with them; in short, when they possess greater sensibility (§ 5), it follows that pleasurable stimulation will the sooner be produced in them. A small quantity of seasoning in his food produces pleasure at once in one who has naturally a delicate and impressible sense of taste : one less sensitive requires, perhaps, the addition of pepper or salt. A man with a delicate ear for music feels, at once, great pleasure when he hears a soft low melody : one with less sus- X 72 Original Powers and Stimulants [§ 30. ceptibility requires tlie rattle of kettledrums and the blaring of trumpets to cause him any delight, &c. In a word, the greater the sensihility the quicker and more fre- quently is pleasurable excitement produced. Now if these pleasurable modes of excitation are the peculiar centre where desires are fashioned (§26), it follows that sensi- hility is of great importance in their production. 3°. Vivacity. The more lively the original powers are, the quicker do they appropriate stimulants; but in the same degree the sooner do the latter disappear (§ 14). Since we can only desire what we have not got, and powers when satisfied want nothing, it follows that no desire makes its appearance in them so long as no stimulant has escaped from their grasp. The sooner that takes place the sooner must desire arise ; consequently the vivacity of the original powers also exercises an important influence on the generation of desires. The phlegmatic man, whose original powers are defective in sensibility and vivacity, is, for this reason, never betrayed into passion. Even his desires are very weak, and it is rarely that anything is permitted to ruffle his darling repose. § 30. Original Powers and Stimulants as Movable Elements. A. All the psychical forms hitherto considered (Perception, Concept, Judgment, Inference, Desire, Inclination, Propension, Passion,) are products of original powers and stimulants. s^— 3 Original Powers^ therefore, and Stimulants, are the constituents \\ or Elements of those forms. 1 1 In forms produced by full stimulation both elements are 1 1 firmly connected ; they are less firmly connected in those aris- ing from pleasurable stimulation. This stability is still less in the case oi half-stimulation, over stimulation (to satiety), ox pain- ful stimulation (§ 24). There are, therefore, in our souls, forms the elements of which may be separated again more or less completely, and if separa- tion takes place they lose the peculiar stamp which they for- § 30.] as Movable Elements. 73 merly received, and turn into general, free elements, which may be employed in other ways. We shall call both these kinds of elements movable. This is the^r«^ kind of movable elements. B. Every evening sleep comes on, and announces its approach by an increasing disability on my part to see and hear, so that it appears almost as if I had lost the power to do either : the other senses also, shortly before falling asleep, become more and more incapable of seizing on their appropriate stimulants. At last, even my clearest notions sink into unconsciousness; but whether I will or not, they start up next morning into con- sciousness, fresh and lively. It again becomes perfectly easy for my senses to seize on their stimulants. No wonder ! for during slee]^ fresh original powers have been formed (§ 13), they cause this renewed activity of my senses, and thus excite consciousness afresh. Por details see § 82. Now we are justified in calling these newly-formed original powers movable elements also. True, they attach themselves to psychical forms already existing, for they cannot dwell apart, as it were, in some comer of the soul ; but for all that they are not firmly attached to them, for fixity can only pertain to the developed, to what is definitely modified. As yet, however, they have received no stimulants, they are as yet unable to coalesce with them, and have not yet been definitely applied to any purpose. This they will be during the day. For the pre- sent they are wwmodified, wwformed, objectively void, unemployed, free powers, which may be employed in one way or the other, simply because they have not yet been actually used, actually appropriated in any. Their relation, therefore, to the modified and formed powers is that of general elements. This is the second kind of movable elements. C. "Were it possible for the powers already developed, i.e. the Traces (Forms), immediately to seize upon stimulants (to see, hear, smell, &c.); if, moreover, consciousness could be kept going or awake merely by the Traces in which it, as a fact, resides ; then any acquisition of fresh original powers, and sleep as well, would be completely unnecessary. But it is a law, that every stimu- 74 Original Powers and Stimulants [§ 30 . lant coming from without must be first taken up ,by some void, unemployed power, before it can take its place among those already developed and formed ; on which account seeing, hear- ing, &c., cease directly these free powers have been used up during the day, i.e. have been converted into traces, and thus rendered unfit for the immediate apprehension of stimulants. It is, moreover, a law, that the Traces can maintain their con- sciousness only so long as they are excited by elements acting solely on condition that they themselves are excited, and are not yet constituent parts of the traces. They are, it is true, taken up by the traces, but are not, therefore, appropriated by them. Now, invariable experience shews that as long as I am awake and have my eyes open, light-stimulants are constantly streaming into my visual powers, and yet they do not all of them produce perception in me. I only have an intuition when I look with attention, with a certain effort, and not in the superficial manner in which I frequently do (see § 71). If I am to know what I am looking at, those Traces within me which suit the object now affecting me must be aroused for the purpose, that being the only way in which I apprehend impressions, and so actually perceive objects. Now, very often no perception takes place notwithstanding that my eyes are open, whence it follows that the light-stimulants operating in such cases are discharged into the void^ unemployed powers of sight (original powers) without becoming firmly attached to them. Were they so united to them they would become to a certain extent conscious (see §§ 6 and 71) without the assistance of the Traces, which, how- ever, is not the case. They are, therefore, for the moment unappropriated. The case is similar with hearing. I frequently receive into my auditory powers stimulants without gaining by them any clear perceptions of sound, for I am not always listening with attention. The products previously formed in the soul (Traces) suitable for perception often do not flow towards the impressions of sound at all, or, at least, only in such insignificant numbers that at best I only half hear, sometimes less than half hear, § 30.] as Movable Elements. 75 and in many cases fail to do so at all. The sounds produced by men and brutes, strains of music, the ringing of bells, the noise of hammering, &c., are often producing some effect upon me, and I am almost always surrounded by a busy hum of all sorts. These stimulants of sound therefore can, in those cases where I remain half or entirely deaf to them, only attach them- selves to the voidy unemployed auditory powers (original powers) in the shape of unappropriated elements. It often occurs to me afterwards that I had some sort of faint inkling of these stimulants of light and sound : what does that prove ? "With the other senses the case is similar to a greater or less extent. That of touch is frequently affected by objects which we take up and hold, and yet no perceptions of touch, properly so called, are produced, and the sense of feeling (vital sense) is perpetually influenced by air, warmth, &c. Yet I have no clear sensation of them ; in both cases for exactly the same rea- son. In like manner the sense of taste is being perpetually excited by impressions produced by the saliva ; that of smell by odours and exhalations of all kinds : but who clearly perceives all these at all times ? I do not notice that the vital powers in the lungs are perpetually taking up out of the air minute por- tions of oxygen, which form (in a waking condition) one of the supports of consciousness ; and yet when I breathe stifling air, or am prevented from breathing at all, consciousness is certainly extinguished, if not life itself. Briefly : external stimulants of all kinds are perpetually pour- ing in through all the six doors of our soul, and they are from the first properly denominated general stimulants. They are taken up, for the most part, without oxir noticing them, for they are received merely into the void, unemployed, unconscious origi- nal powers, and, as a rule, we become aware of their existence only when they wholly cease to act, e.g. when sudden darkness comes on, or when the clock or anything else that produces a familiar and monotonous noise suddenly ceases, when the warm room in which we are begins to be cold, that is, becomes rapidly cold, &c. That, however, such stimulants are introduced into the original powers, that those powers need them, and are per- 76 Original Powers and Stimulants ^ 8fc. [§ 30- petually on the look out for them, is clear from this ; that you have only to cover anybody's eyes and ears, and he will soon push your hands away, for the original powers are bent on being constantly occupied by stimulants, on being, as it were, fed superficially by them. -Powers, on the contrary, which have been developed and thus satisfied very often do not require fresh exter- nal stimulants for weeks, nay, for months and years together. These stimulants thus received within, which are only loosely attached to the original powers, are also to be called movdblt elements. This is the fhird kind of movable elements. If we sum up what has been said it appears that we have learnt this much : One portion of the movable elements is produced thus : powers and stimulants already united may partially he separated again from each other, and thus lose the special impress which they had received, and this in proportion to the want of firmness with w^hich the stimulants have been appropriated. A second portion arises from the daily formation of fresh powers in the soul, which there await some definite em- The third and last portion are thus produced : stimulants of many sorts a/re perpetually, and without our leing aware of itj attracted to the soul during our waking hours, and therefore attach themselves to the original powers, hut are not firmly and definitely appropriated by them. All movable elements are as such unconscious, and as they on this ac- count are transferred or transplanted to forms of all kinds in a greater or less degree, they are obviously one and all general elements. If we compare these movable elements with the fixed which are perma- nently connected in the Traces, it is easy to see that they can never be so numerous as those of the latter kind are. For, granting that the powers and stimulants in the traces may afterwards separate, still experience shews that comparatively few Traces are in this way resolved absolutely into their elements, and that to this process we owe but a small portion of the mova- ble. The only Traces which can be thus resolved and lost, are those pro- duced by a stimulation which was too dull, too fleeting, or too defective. Just so stimulants which continue for a time to be movable can only enter § 3i] Transference of the Movalle Uhments. 77 the soul, if void unemployed original powers are at hand to which they may attach themselves ; for they cannot, as it were, float about in the air — they are not self-supporting. But the number of such original powers can never be so great as that of those which are already elaborated into Traces, for ihat which is produced during six or eight hours sleep can never be so abundant as that which has been engendered and rendered permanent during a longer period of life, therefore in the course of many years : consequently, the general stimulants cannot be so numerous as the fixed. All this necessarily follows from three facts. If these free powers were more numerous, or even as numerous as formed powers, the soul must de- velope, i.e. add to its traces, with enormous rapidity : but it only does so very gradually. Secondly, only a small number of Traces are ever pre- sent to consciousness at the same time, which could not be if the exciting movable elements were equally numerous with the Traces. The strongest proof, however, is— that, in the third place, the new powers acquired during the night, however they may be applied, are only sufficient for one, or at most for a few, days, which certainly could not be the case if they at all approached the developed powers in number. Hence a young child, after it has busied itself with looking, hearing, &c., for some time, must go to sleep, in order to obtain fresh powers to receive fresh impressions (stimu- lants), and even an adult, after looking and hearing for a long time, must, at least, rest, if he does not sleep, in order to let those powers which were only slightly modified and affected again divest themselves of their stimu- lants, so that they may be applied elsewhere, i.e. to apprehend other objects or be otherwise employed. All further psychical growth must be arrested, unless the traces already acquired are supplemented by fresh original powers : the former alone would never suffice for the purpose ''. Compare §82. § 31. Transference of the Movahle Elements. Now what is done by these movahle elements in the soul ? We know something about this already. Fresh original powers are destined directly to produce new traces by uniting firmly with the stimulants of the external world. When these external stimulants flow towards Traces already formed, they excite them into consciousness (§ 12). *» [This is not a close rendering of the original, which runs thus : Eine zu grosserem Umfange und Reichthum fortschreitende Entwickelung ist durch die schon erworbenen Spuren allein niemals moglich. A literal trans- lation would probably be unintelligible to most readers]. 78 Transference of the Movahle Elements. [§ S^* But internal stimulants^ also, and void (as yet unformed) origi- nal powers do the same, by attaching themselves more definitely to the Traces. (§ 13.)^ It is easy to add to the examples which we have already given iii§ 13- *a. What joy does the first fine spring day cause the traveller ; it sheds pleasure and delight over his whole soul. h. A man hears of an unexpected legacy. You should see how he was excited^ i.e. how countless forms, hitherto uncon- scious, passed through his soul = became conscious in rapid succession. c. I was sitting peaceably at my work, and my thoughts were pursuing their usual course, when I received a long-wished- for letter from my friend. My calmness vanished ; thousands upon thousands of notions, judgments, desires, &c., were awakened, and caused me delight. How is all this to be explained ? Only by stimulants which are partly projected into the soul from without, partly which, being already existent within, are passed on from one psychical form to another. In case a^ the extraordinary abundance of stimulants which thronged into the soul of the traveller at the glorious sight of nature were not held fast each by its correspondent power (§ 30), » Carefully note that the term 'movable elements^ is applied only to the two latter species. So long as stimulants exist externally they are, it is true, also movable, and they do, as a fact, move into the soul and affect it, but as external elements they are not as yet psychical elements, and only elements of the soul are intended when we contrast the unfixed or movable with the fixed. How hard it often is, moreover, to firmly attach stimu- lants to their powers, no one knows better than the teacher : it is the busi- ness of his life to contend with the want of fixedness prevalent in the psychical elements of children. What to-day seemed to be firmly appro- priated is, in the morning, loose and imperfectly retained ; indeed, it has often vanished altogether from the powers which had taken it up. In the external world, as well as in the internal, the opposition between fixed and unfixed elements (constituent parts) prevails, and here, as in the soul, the fixed and consolidated is formed, not unfrequently with great slowness, out of the imfixed or movable. § 31.] Transference of the Movable Elements. 79 the larger portion remained movable, and flowed over other psychical forms which were at the moment in repose, excited them, and thus made them consciom. As the feeling of spring is a pleasurahle stimulant, it cannot produce dislike in what it excites, and as, at the same time, according to the law of the Mutual Attraction of Similars, other pleasurable stimulants already possessed must be excited as well, we may explain the joy which manifested itself in the traveller's mind. In case b, the news of the inheritance was conveyed by stimu- lants as indifferent (in audible words) as the impressions derived from the characters of the letter in case c. Neither is any plea- sure contained in them ; and yet they both excited much pleasure. Why so ? The movable portion of the abundant stimulants already inherent in the notions of * inheritance ' and * friend ' passed to other psychical forms which were not at the moment conscious, caused them to be vividly excited, and thus to become conscious. Indeed, the notions of 'inheritance* and * friend' are pleasurable notions, hence full of stimulants, and by them only homogeneous ; i.e. pleasurable notions can be excited, while, to some extent, ordinary notions by this kind of excitement re- ceive the stamp of pleasure, and the more so since general stimu- lants also (which are only absent when we are exhausted) are carried along by this violent excitement, and transferred with special fulness to ordinary notions. Had the contents of the letter excited unpleasant emotions they would have occasioned an equally strong but opposite effect, which would have been propagated to the rest of our psychical form^j, and thus, not unfrequently, a veritable storm is excited within. (See §§ 33 and 34.) Furthermore. Somebody pronounces before me the word * pin- nacle,' excites the corresponding notion, and he requires me to think of that and of nothing else. I am quite unable to do this. Against my will the whole spire comes into consciousness, indeed, it carries me still further, and I think of the church belonging to the spire — its exterior, interior, &c. * Think of the road that leads to Dresden and of nothing else.' But in attempt- ing to do so I think of the adjoining fields, localities, &c., and do 80 Transference of the Movalle Elements. [§31* what I can I am unable to banish from the notion 'road' the stimulants of sound which proceed from it : they spread irresist- ably towards other notions. Again : six and three are ? four times five is ? London is situated on the ? in the beginning God created ; and so on. The omitted por- tions of these imperfect sentences start up into consciousness in a moment, provided they already exist within, but, of course, not otherwise. Who ever experienced the reverse of all this ? Or will any one venture to say that the notions themselves spread one into another ? "What would become of them if they fastened one on the other, and so got mixed together ? These examples will render clear what is meant by * tJie Disappearance of Stimulants,' an expression which we have often used. It is not that they disappear out of the soul, but that stimulants actually taken up, yet not firmly appropriated, are transplanted from form to form, are transferred from one to the other, in the same way as external stimulants are commu- nicated to them ^. The same thing happens with freshly produced void, original powers; since they are naturally active, they generally attach themselves directly to those forms which are homogeneous with them, and therefore to the Desires, states of will, inclinations, disinclinations, &c. In such forms the powers are predominant, the stimulant retires more into the background, and thus free original powers lean on them, so to speak, and become mainly serviceable to them by transferring themselves from them to that which has to be excited by them. To their action we owe volitional, arbitrary excite- ment. The following example will illustrate this : — I have forgotten the name of a hero in a play, and want to ^ We may, therefore, banish the process of the Disappearance of Stimulants from consideration, seeing that it is contained and implied in that of the diflfusion or transference of movable elements. See below, the note in § 43. In order to explain these internal excitations it was formerly usual to as- sume the existence of an innate power of recollection. But that hypothesis is totally incompetent to account for those violent perturbations of soul which so frequently occur under circumstances of joy, ecstacy, &c. ; and on the other side, in a remarkable manner, in terror, fear, despair, &c. In such cases there must be a good many exciting causes at work, not one merely. Moreover, a definite and independent power of recollection could not leave us in the lurch so often as we actually are left : it must, if it ex- isted at all, act uniformly. §31-] Transference of the Movahle Powers. 81 recollect it : what is the man's name ? Albion ? Ilion ? I think the letter a formed part of it. That big bandit, as Zschocke re- presents him, the man with the ftightful nose and satanic laugh — what is his name? I plague myself ever so long without success. If I could see his name on paper — if external stimu- lants were to affect me — I should know it directly. But these are absent. There are internal stimulants enough present, but I must wait a long time if I wait till they chance to excite it into consciousness. I want, if possible, to recover the name at once, and all I have for the purpose are merely free original powers which, by the act of desiring, I have already sent on the search through my soul. I have jilready excited the forms Ilion, Albion, but that is not the name. Albion, Ilion : no ! not that, but something like it. Stop ! now I know it : Ahdllino was what the fellow was called. Who has not often experienced the like ? Now we learn from, this, that it is not movable stimulants alone that pass in the soul from form to form and excite the uncon- scious into (involuntary) consciousness : movable, loose origi- nal powers as well transfer themselves to unconscious forms ^ and so excite them {voluntarily) and render them conscious. Forms thus rendered conscious immediately cease to be so when the exciting elements are withdrawn from them. Thus these loose or movahle elements are what fir.4 bring life into the soul, if the expression be allowable : and we can now perfectly understand the following proposition : — Original Powers and internal stimulants^ in so far as they exist as movahle elements^ are perpetually flowing during our waking state from one form to another, and thus cause that alternation of consciousness which exists at every moment in the human soul. The law thus enunciated we call the law of tJie Diffusion of Movahle Elements. Should any one object that ' this explanation is false, for we are totally unaware of any such transference,* he may be reminded that the objection proves too much, and consequently that it proves nothing. We do not in the least notice the transference of external stimulants to the soul which, nevertheless, takes place at every moment in seeing, hearing, &c. j we G 82 Strong and Weak Psychical Forms. [§32. are naturally inclined to suppose that seeing, hearing, &c., are acts which are and remain quite external, and yet, after seeing, hearing, &c., those stimulants exist within us, for we can recall int^ consciousness the effects which they produced, and that, too, without fresh external excita- tion. In like manner, we do not in the least notice the circulation of the fluids and of the blood in our bodies, nor the motion of the earth, nor the movement of light reflected from a mirror to our eyes, &c., and yet do not all these things take place ? Nor need we be in the least anxious about the question how such individual, singular elements can generate an intelligible order and law in the process of becoming conscious. See § 38 and §§ 73, 74. § 32. Strong and Weak Psychical Forms. We shall frequently liave occasion to refer to the movable ele- ments and their constant transition from one psychical form to another, tor the purpose of explaining facts in the human soul. At present, however, we wish to interpose some remarks which are easily deducible from what we have already said, and which will serve to throw light on what is to come. When an insufficient stimulant acts on an original power and is by it appropriated, the latter is, of course, modified or formed by the stimulant, only it is so in a weah^ insufficient manner : at best only an obscure sensation is produced, and a faint effort on the part of the imperfectly satisfied power after full satisfaction (§ 26). Now suppose a man were mainly brought up only under such half- stimulation, would he ever attain a strong psychical deve- lopment? Never. And though the Traces of thousands of similar imperfect stimulations were united in one whole, still they would never yield a strong and clear form (§ 11^). ^ " The fresh weakness increases the former weakness, and as a thousand poor people do not make one rich one, so a thousand weak traces do not make one strong one." {JDressler's Beitrage zu eiuer bessern Gestaltung der Psychologic und Padagogik. 1. Theil, p. 1 19.) It is here exactly as it is, for instance, with water; a single drop of water is noc a fixed, stable thing, nor will it become so even if you add to it a thousand other drops. The kind of evolution then referred to is, properly speaking, degeneration — the reverse of development. § 32.] Strong and Weak Psychical Forms, 83 We learn from this, that half' stimulation never produces strength, never a strong psychical form : on the contrary y when subjected to such influences, the soul must eternally remain ^veak and imperfect : and although it coiutantly enlarges, still it only increases the number of imperfectly -formed original powers, i.e, o/weak psychical forms. When thus half stimulated we have no feeling of perfection or satisfaction — we rather feel a sense of dislike, of dissatisfac- tion. Hence we may call these weak forms, Forms of Dislike [Unlustgebilde]. —Moreover, If too full a stimulant acts constantly on an original power the latter becomes wearied, stupified, over-stimulated : we perceive this by the gradual rise of an adverse feeling, which we call Satiety, Disgust. But if an immoderate stimulant acts suddenly on the original power, then follows a sudden depression of it, over-stimulation, weakening, and the feeling attendant on it is one of Pain (§ 24). Therefore, in both cases, we find the opposite of what occurs when the soul is developed perfectly and strongly (we have a kind of degeneration — reverse development). The character of our original powers is decidedly changed by both these modes of stimulation. Not merely is their original strength diminished in different ways, the stimulants are also re- tained by them in different degrees, which explains why these kinds of Traces produce such different effects afterwards. In the case of stimulation to satiety, a tolerably large amount of stimulant must remain in the weakened power ; for satiety and disgust pre- viously felt, only require to be internally excited, when a stimu- lation is manifested almost as strong as if an immediate and direct impression were being made, and this may, in some cases, even produce vomiting. The stimulant would accordingly seem to have gained a sort of independent existence, and yet the weak- ened power must, after all, be that in which it is deposited, so that we may regard these Traces as being, to some extent, subse- quent formations produced in consequence of the weakened power not having sufficiently retained its stimulants. Hence, loss of sti- mulant occurs principally in the case of painful stimulationy on 84 Strong and Weak Psychical Forms. [§32. which account, when the traces are again excited from within, we find no such effect produced by stimulants as in the former case, although a minimum of the stimulant is retained even by the most debilitated power. In the case of half-stimulation less of the stimulant must be retained firmly because less was taken up. Therefore the original powers are very decidedly developed {modified) when stimulated to pain or disgust, only they are not thereby perfected but weakened. Hence, the more the soul is stimulated in these two ways, the more weak forms must it gain instead of strong ones. Or are we inclined to call sated, timid, anxious, depressed, mournful, despairing, souls, strong souls ? These weak forms may be termed * Forms of Dislike' in a wider sense. Hence it follows that the soul is not strengthened hy half- stimulation, hy painful stimulation, or hy stimulation to satiety, hut weakened : not strong hut weak forms are engen- dered hy them, and such forms are just as capaUe of permanently existing {in an unexcited condition) as the strong are. IsTow consider full stimulation. The mere feeling that immediately accompanies it (we find ourselves pacified, improved, perfected, in short, elevated), shews that the soul has gained in strength, and the more the original powers are satisfied by stimulants in this manner the more strong forms does the soul gain. Compare §§ n and 24. How does the case stand with pleasurable stimulation ? Here the stimulant preponderates it is true over the power, yet it does not subdue or weaken it. On the contrary, the power gains a more intense appetency for the stimulant, a kind of aban- donment to it, which is manifested in the augmented strength with which it seeks the stimulant which it has lost. Yery naturally ! for the stimulant nearly overcame the power. From this it is clear that pleasurable stimulation must produce strong psychical forms. But since the stimulant is not in this case so firmly appropriated (especially when the tenacity of the powers is small) as in full stimulation, the result is, that, on the other hand, pleasurable stimulation does not strengthen the soul in the same degree as full stimulation does. § 32-] Strong and WeaTc Psychical Forms. 85 Accordingly, pleasure produces, it is true. Desires, but they are not strong psychical forms simply, or as such, even when they have been so accumulated as to produce passion ; they are, in fact, defective in that very thing which assures a power of perfect development, namely, perfect stimulation, for, in their case, a poi-tion of it has vanished: hence they strive a.{teT fresh, re- peated satisfaction from the same stimulant. Consequently, pleasurable stimulation produces in a power an intermediate condition, half strength, half weakness : strength, in so far as the stimulant received is permanently retained in the power, or in so far as the pleasurable effect produces a notion of pleasure (which becomes clearer in proportion as more Traces are accumulated) : weakness, in so far as the stimu- lant again disappears from the power, or the pleasurable effect engenders a desire. (Comnire § 27.) The result of our enquiry is this : The human soul acquires strength or weakness according as its original powers are modified and developed by different modes of stimulation. These powers are strengthened only in so far as external stimulants are intimately united with them : they remain \veak, or are ^weakened, if that intimate union is hindered in any way by unfavourable modes of stimulation, and thus either a defect of stimulant is created in the power, or such a full- ness of it, as lames and cramps its original force (as in stimu- lation to satietv). It has already been observed at the end of § 24, that powers developed under these circumstances acquire a permanent tone and character of their own, and therefore become Forms of Dis- position and Temper. We may call the original powers original forces, provided that we do not forget that in no case can they be so strong as developed powers are. They are forces in a lower state of existence, and hence the child, when compared with the developed man, is not only weak in body, but in mind as well. Still forces they must be, they must have some strength, for otherwise they could not form the ground and condition for those higher forces which are developed from them by training in the right direction; nor, on the other hand, can they lose in energy by an opposite mode of treatment. Are the fresh original powers subsequently formed stronger than those which first 86 On Repugnancies. [.% Z'i- existed ? Certainly not. For, if that were the case, the original powers in their earliest stage of existence would he weaker in a bahy, and that would cause it to be perpetually over-excited, for the external world acts as strongly on the child as on the man. The man (or even a biggish boy) can bear more, simply because he possesses, in addition to his original powers, a large number of developed powers on which the surplus of stimulants may be diffused and expended, and thus rendered harmless. § 33. On Repugnancies. I went out to take a walk. A wasp flew at me and threatened to sting me. I involuntarily lifted my umbrella and struck it to the ground. A child has to take some bitter physic : the moment it hears of it it opposes itself to the operation. A certain man considers himself a capital singer : somebody says to him, * You sing abominably/ which so offends him, that he almost strikes his critic, &c., &c. How is all this to be explained ? During our waking hours the movable elements are never still, but are constantly flowing from one psychical form to another (§ 31). As they (according to § 15, p. 33) are trans- ferred to what is most intimately connected, movable stimu- lants in particular flow by preference where there is a defect of stimulation ; for in the soul, as in the external world, the fluid and fluent always tends to spread in all directions, and immediately in a direction where some void has to he filled up. "When I went out for a walk I was clearly conscious of the bodily comfort and security which I was enjoying. This was a very complex and strong psychical form. Directly the wasp threatened to sting me another form was instantly aroused, that of pain left by other wasps' stibgs (or something of that kind). This was a weah psychical form. Now, seeing that the former was rich in stimulants, and the latter poor in them, what must happen? (§ 32). The movable elements belonging to the first passed in a moment over to the other, so that the powers of the fi.rst were deprived or emptied of a portion of their stimulants. Ey this they recovered their original tension or appetency, which was necessarily directed to similar stimulants, and therefore to § 33-1 ^ Bepugnanctes. 87 those which it had lost, and thus was produced an effort counter to or against that weak form which was answerable for having deprived the strong one of its stimulant. In order to put a stop to this loss of stimulant, my hand was raised and struck the wasp to the ground. But how is this explicable ? A mean series (see § 40) already existent within me was simultaneously excited by the movable elements (these are in fact always ready to spread in all directions^ see § 73), and since by this the end (i.e. to preserve to *my corporeal comfort' its fulness of stimu- lation unimpaired) was attained, the repugnance immediately ceased. But it continued to exist in the shape of a Trace. Why did the child resist taking nasty physic? Two forms were conscious in his soul at once ; in his gustatory system a complex strong form of pleasure previously experienced, and a weah one (arising from some previous over- stimulation by nasty physic or the like) : the movable stimulants of the former poured over into the latter as being poor and feeble in excitants : this converted the powers of the former into efforts, and to efforts directed against the weak form which was the cause of its losing its stimulants. Hence the child resisted the taking of physic — a repugnance was generated in him. The like is the case in the third instance. The strong form, abundant in stimulants, * I am an excellent singer/ was faced by the weak one, poor in stimulants, * you are a wretched singer.* (Compare on this § 54.) The first immediately began to lose its stimulants, and simultaneously it took the shape of effort to check that loss, which eflfort did not remain permanently directed to the weak form, owing to the tendency stimulants have to spread in all directions. The muscular powers, in which the insulted person possessed the means of permanently removing the blame, were affected by the excitation, and hence, as people say, his fingers itched to close his critic's mouth by a blow. Suppose he mastered that disposition, it would have been a proof that nobler and vc ry powerful forms were also excited, which rendered violence impossible, by taking such decided possession of the movable elements exciting them, that for the moment they were imable to produce an effect in any other direction. 88 On Repugnancies. [.^ ZZ' How then do Repugnancies arise ? In all cases two hinds of things must le conscious, a strong form leside a weak one. This causes the movable elements to flow from the former to the latter, and thus quickly converts the strong form into a form of effort which defends itself against that loss of stimulant, and thus a counter effort, a Repugnance is In what respects, then, do Repugnancies differ from Desires or resemble them ? (compare § 25). Why is it that in repugnancy the stimulant only and not the powers is equalized ? Because the sensations of pleasure or dislike depend sole'y on stimulants. The explanation above given makes three points clear. 1°. Strength and weakness must lie in a like direction, i.e. they must re- late to a similar or at least analogous object. The strong forms which, as a musician, I owe to corresponding impressions made by musical tones will not enable me to feel any repugnance to grammatical mistakes, nor does the knowledge of what is grammatically correct create in any one a repug- nance to false or blurred musical sounds — that implies a knowledge of cor- rect musical sounds "*. In like manner the repugnance disappears, unless the false and the correct are simultaneously and consciously opposed in the soul. How many are there, who, when correcting an exercise, let errors pass merely because the correct expression did not happen to occur to them simultaneously with the incorrect phrase which they have just read. But the repugnance to the mistake is felt the moment the correct expression rises into consciousness. 2**. Repugnance is only another kind of effort (desire) generated when the usual striving of the powers after stimulants has vanished. No force in the world can produce opposite effects : the eye can only see the external, not the internal ; fire can heat, but it cannot chill ; a stone can fall, but cannot of itself rise, &c., and thus also the {unweaJcened) powers of the soul can no doubt strive after stimulants, but they cannot immediately strive in an opposite direction, cannot reject them (or have a repugnance for them). They are invariably directed to receiving stimulants and appr<)priating them so far as possible, never to rejecting or keeping them at a distance. Now since in rep'jgnancy stimulants actually are rejected and resisted, the only explanation possible, is, that the diffusion of stimulant is interrupted in the following manner : the powers of the strong form strive after the stimu- lants of which they have been deprived — endeavour to recover them, and in " The correct, or what is accounted correct, is always felt as strength, the false always as weakness ; why ? See below, § 54, at the end. § 34.] On Repugnancies. \\^ ' ^ d» thus acting, the powers of the weak form which received them are relieved from an unwelcome burden ". In cases of anxiety, alarm, terror, &c., a number of weak forms are simultnneously excited, so that an extraordinary amount of stimulant is withdrawn from the strong ones. Now if among the latter there are none powerful enough to check this diffusion by re- covering some of those stimulants, no repugnancy is produced ; the stimu- lants spread further and further in the soul, indeed even to the body, and occasion exclamativers of feeling at all, but to coin some other name for them. The expression, 'Sensitive Powers' [Empfindungs- vermogen, powers of feeling], which might be proposed, would certainly 120 Feelings. [§ 46. Similar forms yield no feelings ; nor do a succession of similar sensations — they remain mere sensations. In order to render this matter still clearer, I cannot refrain from adding a remarkably lucid passage out of Dressier' s " Beitrage," &c.. Part I. p. 152, sqq. He there says : " We two are standing together, when, unexpectedly, a sound strikes upon our ears. You observe, * that was a very deep note.* * Deep ! ' I reply, * how can you know that, seeing you are no musician ?* • !' the answer is, ' this is not the first time that I have heard a sound, and I am therefore perfectly able to say what note is hijjrh and what low.* You compare, then, as I see, the tone which you have just heard with others which you have formerly heard, and which you now reproduce within : you compare them both internally as respects their interval, their difference from each other, and so you are, of course, able to say, * my ear tells me, by an immediate feeling, that it is not a higher but a lower note.' "Had it really been the first that you ever heard, it would have been im- possible for you to say that it was a lower note, just as the man born deaf can make no assertion as respects notes and sounds, although, according to the view hitherto maintained, he has as much power of feeling as another; for it is only a damaged organ that interferes with his sense of hearing. Again : ' The colours in this picture are very glaring.* I wager that if not be suitable, for all original powers are such. Besides which, not one, but several classes of original powers are indicated by the word, ' powers of feeling ;' that is to say, all those which are difiused over the whole of the interior and exterior of the body without being bound, as the organic senses are, to particular corporeal organs. To them belong, a. the powers which digest and assimilate food derived from without (they approach the powers of taste most nearly, so far as their sensations are concerned) ; h. powers subservient to respiration (which have most aflBnity with the powers of smell as regards their sensations) ; c. the powers of the so-called common feeling [Gemeingefiihl] — for warmth, cold, sultriness of the air, tickling, pressure, &c. (closely allied to our powers of touch, and frequently used as such) ; and d. the muscular powers (see p. 32). They are all inferior to the organic senses in point of tenacity. As the body of the new-born child is first manifested by these powers, and as they are in the adult the fundamental conditions for the preservation of life, Beneke calls them vital powers ( ■= powers of life). If we conceive of them all as one, we ascribe to man one vital sense; but if we consider them as falling into certain classes or systems of powers differing from each other, we then talk of vital senses. Common language sums them all up together in the expression. Body. Compare § 50, and particularly § 81. §47-] Factors of Feelings. 121 these colours had been the first you ever saw, you would not have pro- nounced them either glaring or tame, nor, indeed, have attributed any qua- lities at all to them : comparison with other colours reproduced internally, enables you to form such a judgment, which expresses the immediate con- sciousness, i.e. the feeling of gkringness ; and this explanation is correct, however sceptical you may feel respecting it, on the score of its being new and unfamiliar to you.'* r § 47. Further Details on the Subject. Factors 0/ Feelings. In order that a feeling may exist, it is necessary that several (at least two) psychical forms should be conscious together, and both must be different (§ 46). Suppose, for instance, that some one is conscious of the notions concerning his means of subsistence. Let him be poorly off in this respect : he earns just enough barely to get on, yet he does manage to get along. If these psychical forms are the only ones that attain to con- sciousness in his soul, he will experience no special feeling at them ; we see, in fact, thousands in such narrow circumstances, contented. The usual remark is, * they do not know any better,' and, in reality, there is a good deal of truth in the saying. For suppose we assume that our poor man has known better days, in that case the notions of his earlier and better condition will be associated with those of his present poorer and worse condition*', and then farewell to contentment : he cannot escape a feeling of pain. And this is produced simply because, to use figurative language, the forms of his present poor condition measure them- selves by those of his earlier and better state: or he becomes conscious of the difference between the two conditions because they become conscious together. For the sake of greater clearness we might call the forms by which the others are, so to say, measured, the foundation of feeling [Gefuhlgrundlage] or the measure of it; for by reference to it the present condition is felt. In the example just made use of, the notions of the man's former and more pros- * It need hardly be observed, that the latter imply painful, the former pleasurable, moods or feelings. 122 Factors of Feelings. [§47- perous condition are the measure, those of his present poverty- stricken life what is measured ly it, ox felt. Both these — measure and what is measu e'' — ue called ^^ factors or constituent parts of feelings. They need not, therefore, as in the former instance of close or fresh air, be strictly simple ; they produce the same kind of effect whether they are complex or simple, provided that in the former aspect they, when united, produce that tone or emotion which belongs to them in the latter aspect as well. !N'ow let us suppose the same man again to become prosper- ous, what effect will that produce ? Three cases may be sup- posed : either 1°. His earlier and better condition remains the standard by which he measures his present improved circumstances : and as there is no serious difference between the two, they will restore to him a feeling of contentment and peace ; or 2°. His poorer condition is made the rule by which he mea- sures his present happy lot : this will cause him a feeling oi joy, because the present is advantageously contrasted with the past ; or, lastly, 3°. His present state is left totally out of sight, so that his first and better condition remains the standard by which the notions of the hard fate which succeeded it are measured : in that case he cannot avoid his ioim.Qv feeling of pain. This last will happen often enough at the beginning of his new happiness. For, as when he was poor both states (his earlier happiness and his subsequent misery) were often thought of together, it follows that, as the movable elements are perpetually permeating our conscious psychical forms, hoth must hecome con- nected into one group or series. (See § 38.) But as long as the same pair of factors are conscious at the same time in the soul, so long, of course, must one and the same feeling he produced. i^Tow we not unfrequently meet with men, upstarts as they are called, who seem so rapidly and so completely to forget their previous unhappiness, that they are no longer able to figure to themselves what they formerly experienced, nor, indeed, what a poor man's feelings are at all. How are we to explain this ? In the following way. Their present good fortune takes such §47-] Factors of Feelings. 123 entire possession of their soul, that all their thoughts are con- centrated on their good fortune. This causes a gradual dissolu- tion of the groups formed in the earlier condition of poverty and subsequent prosperity, — the several members of these enter into other combinations, and therefore the first feeling must cease, simply because it was merely the consciousness of the differences between the several members in these groups. Consequently a feeling lasts only so long as both its factors {hy tlie simultaneous consciousness of which it arose) remain in the same connexion ; if that conjunct consciousness is impeded by any thing, or if the connexion is totally dissolved^ the resulting feel- ing must also vanish. This is the difference between the Feelings, and notions, and efforts. The two latter continue to exist in independent Traces : the former, on the other hand, only so far as the factors of the feeling are formed into permanent groups or series by the appro- priation of movable elements : for the feelings are nothing more than the consciousness of different psychical forms present to con- sciousness together ; they are not, like notions and efforts, some- thing based on independent Traces. The result is this : in the feelings we have not a now and peculiar kind of psychical formsy but only a new and particular kind oi consciousness of such forms •*, which consciousness implies that forms already conscious in themselves exist side by side, and that then one of them enhances the other. As a white object appears still whiter when contrasted with one less white, a red one still redder when contrasted with one less red, so als9 conscious psychical forms raise and elevate each other by their being pre- sent to consciousness together. And note that the elevating form (= the standard) is, as a rule, that which is less constantly comcious, what sinks hack into unconsciousness with greater rapidity : the feeling (what is felt) is not this, but that which ^ Hence, we neither feel the pleasure nor pain which we might so long as we do not think of their causes and occasions (= do not render them conscious) : consequently all feelings are drowned in the total unconscious- ness of sleep : hence the expressions, ' I feel joy, trouble,' * the feeling of joy or trouble is vividly before me,* &c., are identical in meaning with, * I am conscious of joy or trouble,' &c. 124 Extent of the Feelings. [§ 48. remnins longer in consciousness : where, however, both are equally strong in consciousness, there they are both feelings, and both are foundations or conditions for feeUng as respects each other. §48. Extent of the Feelings : Freshness of Feeling. During our waking condition there are always several psychi- cal forms, conscious either at the same time, or in immediate succession (§ 44), and all such forms are to a greater or less extent different (§ 45). Now if, as we have proved in the preceding §§, forms can- not be simultaneously conscious without the difference or in- terval between them being immediately manifested, it follows that we cannot he without feeling at any moment of our waking life. Is this justified by experience ? Apparently not. For what sort of a feeling has a reader had of the numerous forms which were just now present to, and have now vanished from, consciousness ? On a superficial ex- amination he would reply, that he had not experienced any particular feeling. And that answer is true, if, as is the case in the usual current of our life, only ordinary notions rise into consciousness together, notions in which our powers are rather affected joyfully or painfully. All this is quite in order, for where there is no great difference between one state and an- other, then there can be no feeling at all, or none which is specially remarhable. Yet, at such times, feeling is not totally absent. It is at once natural and necessary that feeling there should be. Where any distinction (interval) exists, be it ever so small, it must mani- fest itself in feeling ; and this fact deserves a more careful ob- servation. For instance, I certainly feel a greater degree of clearness, when the concept belonging to any perception becomes conscious along with it : for the concept is distinguished from the individual perception by its greater clearness (§ 15). Hence the expression, ' at length a light dawns upon me.' In like manner, no one would be tempted to take a conscious notion for a desire, or a longing for a repugnance^ a recollection for a percep^ § 48 . ] Extent of the Feelings. 1 2 5 tioUj a resolve for mere indifference, inspiriting courage for fea/r, Sfc, ^c. The difference between all these forms is too great for us to confound one with another. But no doubt in common life the term feeling is confined exclusively to the recognition of noticeable and remarkable differences. Hence, there is a considerable difference between feelings. Some are stronger, others weaker^ often so weak that, unless examined with great attention, they might pass for non- existent. The one important point here to be insisted on is, the greater or less difference between the psychical forms con- scious together. A man constantly in good health derives scarcely any feeling of pleasure from his health : at the best, he merely feels comfort- able. But let him fall ill, and get well again : what joy will health then cause him. Do you imagine that a wealthy man feels himself particularly happy on account of his riches ? It would be a mistake to think so. Suppose he gains a hundred dollars in addition, he would scarcely notice the fact : but a poor man would jump for joy at getting such a sum. The result is this : the greater the interval between the psychical forms simultaneously conscious, the stronger or fresher is the feeling ; the less that interval, the weaker or duller {more languid) it is. We may express the fact in the following way : the greater the difference between psychical forms simultaneously conscious, the greater is the freshness of the feeling by which that difference is manifested to our consciousness. Who, then, would have a fresher, keener feeling of joy at a beautiful landscape; the man who dwells in the midst of it, or a stranger who lives in a dull locality ? Who must feel a, fresher and keener sense of the uneasiness (pain) of siclcness ; one who is constantly ill, or one who was but a short time before in good health ? When should we feel a very keen pleasure in a hearty meal of dry bread ? When does dry bread cease to give us any more pleasure ? 126 One and the Same Psychical Process may he [§ 49. § 49. One and the Same Psychical Process may he at once a Notion^ a "Desire^ and a deling. A father comes amongst his children, and says, 'Look at this picture that I have brought you! Have you looked at it enough ? Then I will put it away. IS'ow, Henry, describe to me what you have seen. *I observe from your description that you have obtained a notion (a copy in your soul) of the picture. Have matters stopped there ? 'Your joyful looks tell me that you were pleased with it. The perception of the picture was added to the forms which were already conscious in your soul when I came in. These forms were purely indifferent notions, e.g. of tables, chairs, of the walls, &c., of this room, and they were obscurely present to your consciousness, when you were looking at the picture. But that differed in a very marked manner from them. This difference, which arose from an act of involuntary compa- rison in your soul, immediately became conscious; your con- sciousness turned by preference to the more vivid and stimulating- effect produced by the picture, and so there arose that special consciousness which we callfeeliny. It was naturally a feeling ot pleasure. ' "Why do you keep standing with such a wistful look at the place where the picture is kept ? I observe that you would be gLid to look at it again. Apparently your visual powers have already lost some of the stimulants which they received from it. Hence, they have become to some extent void of stimu- lants, and as such they are striving after fresh satisfaction to be given by the same stimulants. You desire to see the picture again.' Who could fail to recognise in this instance the multifarious effects which are produced by the painting ? They are the following : — 1°. So far as its stimulants were firmly united to the powers § 49'] ^i f^^^^ ^ Notion, a Desire, and a Feeling. 127 of sight, there arose in the soul of the spectator a Notion of the picture *. 2°. So far as this perception was different from other forms conscious along with it a Feeling of that difference was mani- fested. 3°. So far as particular stimulants disappeared from the powers of sight {and the Traces excited in them), there arose a longing^ a Desire for fresh satisfaction hy the same stimulants. Therefore, one and the same psychical process was at once a Notion, a Desire, and a Feeling. This is very frequently the case. We have already seen in § 27 that desires are also at the same time notions. In order that they should be feelings as well, nothing more is required than that they should be con- scious along with other psychical forms tolerably different from them. "When, then, this difference is immediately manifested, then the desire at once becomes a feeling. For when / desire an apple, I figure it to myself— /orm a notion of it in that same act of desire ; and in so far as the apple when compared with other edible objects more fully stimulates my gustatory powers, that difference is manifested as a feeling of pleasure ; Itence one and the same psychical process may he at once a notion, a desire, and a feeling. Usually one of these forms preponderates more or less over the others. Kotion, desire, and feeling, therefore, are only three different forms of development, they do not in the least imply distinct powers; indeed, not even distinct acts (processes), except so far as the form * feeling ' requires that the fundamental form with which the others are compared and measured should exist in consciousness beside, and along with them (§ 47). Com- pare § 27. « It need hardly be mentioned that in this instance many Traces suit- able for the present perception are excited, and that the stimulants spread over them as well as over the others. For the (void) visual powers as now aiFected merely, would of themselves produce a sensation, but no notion properly so called. See the folio «ring §. 128 Feelings of Pleasure and Bislihe. [§ 5°- § 50. Feelings of Pleasure and Bislihe. Difference between Sensation, Feeling, and Perception. From § 24 we know that pleasurable forms are engendered witHn us by thoroughly /w?? stimulation, which, as it were, sets us on the swing, e.g. if we perceive vivid colours, powerful full tones, &o. If, at the same moment, other psychical forms less full of stimulants are presented to consciousness, it follows, from the preceding §§, that these different foims are compared or measured together, and so the perception of pleasure is converted into a feeling of pleasure. Now, as there are also sensations of pleasure, it may be asked, how they differ irom other species of pleasure? As respects this we offer the following observations. In the new psychology, the term sensation in general is applied to every simple act of sense, when a single original power so connects with itself a correspondent stimulant, that nothing already formed and elaborated within is concerned or employed in the act, [i.e. it is the bare union of a stimulant and an original power, abstracting from every other change or process with which it may as a fact be connected]. Such an act is attended by an extremely faint consciousness, so faint, indeed, as to be almost = 0, as we find to be the case with a new-bom child when its soul is receiving its first impressions. Each of these sensations are retained in the soul in the shape of a Trace, and all these Traces, so far as they are of like hind, fuse into one whole ; and it is in consequence of this that the psychical forms thence resulting arrive dit full consciousness (§§ 9, 10). After the soul has in this manner attained a certain degree of develop- ment, stimulants still continue to unite, as they did before, with the isolated original powers, i.e. sensations are still constantly engendered : but since they, as a rule, instantaneously attach themselves to Traces homogeneous with them, and excite them into consciousness (§ 12), the simple act of sense gains strength from within in proportion as the homogeneous Traces there found are numerous; sensation, which was in itself and alone almost destitute of consciousness, is thus converted into percep- § 50.] Feelings of Pleasure and Dislike. 129 Hon. We may, therefore, say that Perceptions are sensations which have been strengthened (multiplied) by elements derived from within. The case is exactly similar as respects sensations of pleasure. They differ from those which imply no pleasure merely because they are the results of fuller stimulation than the others, as we have already proved in § 24. Now, if the homogeneous Traces of pleasure are attracted to a pleasurable sensation, the latter participates in the accumulated consciousness contained in them, and so there arises a perceptioti of pleasure. It usually happens that other psychical forms less full of stimulants become or are already conscious along with the perception of pleasure, which measures its greater fulness of stimulation or its pleasure by them as by a standard. This yields that difference which is manifested as a feeling of pleasure. The difference, then, between the sensation and the perception of pleasure is precisely that which exists between sensation and perception in general. The former is nothing but a simple act of sense, which may, it is true, be accounted a feeling, but only so far as stimulant and original powers may, in its case, be com- pared together, which can, at best, be but very obscurely felt : the latter, on the contrary, is a fully conscious pleasurable form, which cannot exist at all at the earliest period of psychical development. The further, however, that development is car- ried the more numerous do such pleasurable forms become, and, on being compared with others, in the manner described, they lead at last to feelings of pleasure properly so called. An adult finds it more difficult to form purely simple sensations, but yet he does form them, for the assemblage of like Traces already existent within is not always aroused by every sensation, as is noticeably the case in transient impressions ; and many sensa- tions of both the former and latter kind remain, as we shall see in § 69, in their original and elementary condition. The careless language of everyday life frequently confounds the sensation of pleasure with the perception and feeling of it : it applies the term sensation to every act of consciousness, whether it be attended with pleasure or the reverse ; whereas the word 130 Feelings of Pleasure and Dislike. [§ 5o- can only be properly used of the lower senses ; for in them no form attains to that clearness of consciousness which is requisite for perception, properly so called. At least everything which is reproduced in the lower senses remains so obscure that it cannot properly be called more than sensation. We have already observed in § 37 and elsewhere, that, in point of fact, it is impossible to affirm generally what will be the exact effect produced on the original powers by a given amount of stimulant : it cannot be said that so much stimulant produces full stimulation, and so much pleasurable stimulation. Hence it is self-evident that a greater or less difference must prevail amongst our feelings of pleasure. Such terms as delight, joy, bliss, transport, ecstasy prove this, for they are intended to indi- cate different degrees in which pleasure is felt. All other sensations that arise in the soul are converted into feelings in precisely the same manner as that already described. If the stimulant is too small for the original power, two things are rendered prominent ; that part of the original power which was filled, and that which was not, are manifested side by side, and therefore we have, to some extent, a feeling, though a very obscure one, of dissatisfaction, of displeasure. As a rule, the Traces of former and similar cases of half- stimulation are excited by the present sensation, and coalesce with it. If, as often occurs, a psychical form produced by full stimulation is aroused into weak semi-consciousness at the same time, the consciousness of the first will be heightened, and we have a stronger feeling of dissatisfaction (of dislike). If the stimulant gradually becomes too strong for the original power we become aware of a gradual over stimulation, i.e. the feeling of satiety or disgust arises. As long as it remains in this simple shape the feeling is naturally very obscure. As a rule, however, homogeneous traces are excited along with the simple act : moreover, this complex form is compared with more perfect ones, which then rise more weakly into consciousness, and thus the feeling of satiety gains in strength. Finally, if the stimulant affects the original power suddenly and with too great strength, so that the latter is overhorne by it, § 5 o. ] Feelings of Pleasure and Dislike. 131 we shall experience a feeling of pain, stronger in proportion as the number of similar traces which co-operate is greater, and in proportion as they attain to clearer consciousness, by measuring themselves by more perfect psychical forms. So long as stimu- lant and original power are alo7ie concerned in the act, the pain is only felt obscurely. The feelings of dissatisfaction, of satiety, and of pain, being all the opposite of pleasure, might be embraced under the common term * Feelings of Dislike' [XJnlustgefiihle] — a term usually em- ployed only in a wide signification. All these feelings, whether of pleasure or the reverse, may be greatly intermixed — they run into one another ; indeed, a weaker feeling of pain may even appear pleasant when contrasted with the recollection of a more violent one. It must be carefully noticed, that most pleasures and pains (as, indeed, to a great extent, their different forms) are caused by the degrees and modes in which our powers are stimulated, from the perfection or weakness which the original powers are then subject to : their perfection (elevation) is im- mediately pleasant, their weakening (depression) immediately painfuH. This pleasure and dislike in immediate sensation is suspended, but only suspended, when the (so excited) act changes into (an unexcited act or) trace ; and it, therefore, returns in the shape of formed pleasure or pain when the act is re-excited. Compare § 24, at the end. In feeling ( = when different acts are mutually compared), this pleasure and pain is only modi- fied ; it is partly, as it were, thrown into the shade, partly set in a brighter light. Feeling, therefore, would be totally impossible, unless several condi- tions were fulfilled : the fundamental differences between the various psy- chical forms must first have been caused by the different ways in which they were stimulated. Again, the several powers must, from the first, have constituted distinct systems; they must have received a real objective and differing development by being affected by different objects; and, lastly, all these differences must have been manifested to consciousness. ' Hence the expressions elevation and depression always denote two kinds of things as contained in one and the same act : in the fornoer, plea- sure and perfection; in the latter, pain and weakness (damage). That something real (objective) is also necessarily implied — the powers are the subjective, what is attuned to pleasure, dislike, &c. — is self-evident. See the note on p. 66. 132 Smzlar Stimulation does not [§ S^« § 51. Similar Stimulation does not always call forth the same Feeling. Invalids are often unable to endure ordinary daylight, and start with pain if people talk within their hearing in their ordi- nary tone. How is this to be explained ? The stimulants cannot be to blame in the matter, because, then, healthy people ought to be pained in like manner ; there- fore the cause must be sought for solely in the peculiar quality of the sick man's original powers^. They are, doubtless, so weak- ened by sickness, that an ordinary stimulant (one not in itself too strong) over-excites them, and so produces a feeling of pain. It is as clear as daylight that this explanation is correct; for when the invalid gets well again, i.e. when his original powers have recovered their original strength, ordinary stimulants in- stantaneously cease to produce over-excitement. Therefore the kind of feeling produced hy like stimulation de- pends (lO.) on the quality and condition of the original powers. Again, a poor and hungry man will experience great pleasure if he can obtain a good hearty meal of merely humble fare, and yet a rich man, whose palate is daily tickled by delicacies, would make but a wry face at it. The native of a large city passes by with indifference all the gay and sometimes prettily ornamented shop-bills, the grahd display in the windows, the monuments, and so forth ; whereas a countryman, who looks on such objects for the first time in his life, stares with open eyes and mouth, to the great amusement of the bystanders, in order to draw in the unaccustomed glory at all inlets ; and if we ask him how he likes it, we shall find him untiring in his praise, &c. Here, also, the same stimulant pro- duces totally different feelings. The stimulant cannot be the cause of the difference, for it is identical in both cases. The original powers are not responsible for it ; for we presuppose 8 Therefore not in that of the traces ; they retain their full vigour, and are not weakened. Generally speaking, in such cases, the bodily organs alone are affected, and the pain [arises chiefly in them (consequently in the vital powers). §51-] always call forth the same Feeling, 133 them to be sound and healthy in all alike. Therefore, there must be some third thing. When the poor man satisfies his hunger by simple food, that satisfaction is compnred and measured with the depression which was existing just before, and which had been produced by want of nutriment. Compared with this defective state, satisfaction must manifest itself in immediate feeling as a more perfect con- dition, or as a feeling of comfort. In the case of the rich man driven to eat common food, the latter is contrasted in consciousness with the recollection of the dainties which he usually enjoys ; these are made the standard, and therefore the effects now produced on his organs of taste must needs appear something imperfect ^ when compared with his ordinary feelings, or as something displeasing. If the countryman felt great pleasure at the grandeur of the town, and the townsman none, it is obvious that the former compared the brilliant impressions which he received with those common things with which he is acquainted, and that naturally yields a great difference: the townsman, however, takes the splendour to which he is accustomed as a standard, and as he has nothing to compare with it, it produces in him no feeling either of pleasure or the reverse. The same is the case in all the other instances. The question always is this : with what kind of forms is the present one simul- taneously conscious, or what is the standard (or foundation of comparison) ly which an act is measured. Hence it is not merely 1°. the quality of the original powers, but 2°. also the psychical forms which are then and there conscious, that cause similar ex- citation not to produce always the same feeling. Different standards give different estimations^ i.e. different feelings. But let it be con- stantly remembered that the standard is, as a rule, that psy- chical form which is maintained less steadily and clearly in consciousness. (§ 47.) Hence, it is explicable why often the same object may at cer- tain times call up a feeling of pleasure, at another of pain. For example, dip j'our hand into decidedly cold water, and then into warm, and you will feel much more warmth than there 134 Feelings of the Agreealle^ Sullimey and Beautiful. [§52. really is. Conversely, the warm water would have felt cold, if you had previously dipped your hand into hotter water. § 52. Feelings of the Agreeable, Sublime, and Beautiful. Immediate Factors of these Feelings. These feelings are naturally only produced by the third mode of stimulation. They depend not merely on the special qualities of the stimulants causing them, but also, and mainly, on those of the original powers ; and besides that, in the case of the Beautiful and Sublime, an interpretation must be put upon the phenomena drawn from the more deep lying yet still acquired possessions of the soul. This will become clear in the following § ^. "When a lively and simple dance is played, or if bright colours are contrasted in a small picture, when a sweet fragrance in spring breathes through the air, when we once and away enjoy highly- seasoned and tasty viands instead of our usual dry and insipid food, — all this causes us a sense of pleasure (a feeling of pleasure). "When, during the stillness of evening, the pure full tones of a chorale echo down from a tower, when the departing sun streaks the sky with purple, when before us far away in the distance mountain and plain succeeds mountain and plain, when on a clear night we gaze into the infinite depths, where suns revolve round suns, and worlds round worlds : then also a sense of pleasure (a feeling of pleasure) seizes on our soul. But there is a great difference between the two, as is clear from the feelings immediately attendant on them : our language calls the one pleasant, agreeable, the latter sublime. In what do they both essentially consist r Now, if for the moment we disregard all that which in the case of the sublime must be sought for in the depths of our own soul, it is evident that in the examples of the first kind of plea- ^ [This is not very clear, but it is difficult to express the original, which runs thus : wozu beim Schonen und Erhahenen noch eine Unterlegung aus dem tiefern, sonst schon erworhenen InJialt der Seele Jcommen muss. He means that whenever we view an object as Beautiful or Sublime, we attri- bute to it human qualities, we give it a meaning by analogies derived from ourselves.] § 52.] Feelings of the AgreedhUy Suhlinief and Beautiful. 135 sure, the stimulant is of a tolerably simple kind : hence it acts as an easy and lively excitant on our original powers, and pre- supposes on their part nothing but sufficient sensibility and vivacity to enable them to appropriate these rapid stimulants. At the same time, however, unless the impression made is to remain a mere obscure^ scarcely conscious sensationy it is clear that all that we have hitherto experienced of a like kind, and now retain in the shape of traces, must be excited along with it, and so convert this mere apprehension into a conscious per- ception of pleasure (see § 50). In the instances of the second kind, the impressions (stimu- lants) are more complex, more massive : hence they make a heavier impression on the original powers, the strain they produce is steadier and longer ^ and therefore these powers must be en- dowed with more than ordinary strength and tenacity j in ordei to withstand such treatment. In this case also, unless the re- sult is to remain a mere obscure sensation, the homogeneous traces formerly acquired must be added to the present impres- sion, they alone being capable of strengthening a mere sensation of pleasure into o. perception of it (§ 50.) Again: when a fresh green clothes fields and hedges, when good sterling and yet not elaborate music excites our ear, when an agreeable neighbourhood opens to our view, and is not too extensive, but diversified by houses, thickets, commons, lakes, &c., all this also produces in us a sense of pleasure (feelings of pleasure), but these we call neither agreeable nor sublime, but beautiful. When this arises, the already existing and homogeneous traces must, as in the former cases, co-operate : but here, on the other hand, the stimulants have a certain intermediate mass or weight; their effect, therefore, though vigorous and lively, still takes place with tolerable sedateness, which naturally re- quires original powers possessing the requisite vivacity ^ strertgthy and tenacity. From what has been said, two things may be explained: lO. the fact that, as well as the reason why, brutes though capa- ble of feeling the agreeable are never capable of feeling the Beau- 136 Feelings of the AgreeabUy Suhlime, and Beautiful. [§ 52. tiful and Sublime, notwithstanding that the same stimulants act on them that act on us. They do not possess the requisite tena- city and strength in their original powers, and consequently they cannot accumulate that number of homogeneous Traces, which in men raises their bare apprehensions of objects to the strength of clear consciousness. On the other hand, the brute often pos- sesses powers of great vivacity and sensibility, and is therefore perfectly able to form agreeable feelings, or (to speak more cor- rectly), sensations. In men's lower systems of powers, impres- sions are, owing to want of strength and tenacity, only so tran- siently appropriated, that most of them are lost again, and this explains, 2°. why we are unable in like manner to form the feel- ings of beauty or sublimity in our senses of taste or smell, or in ouF vital or muscular powers. No one, therefore, when he speaks correctly, talks about beautiful or sublime tastes, smells, vital or muscular acts ; they are agreeable, and that is all. !N'ow as the feelings of the Beautiful and Sublime are called * (Esthetic feelings,' it is obvious that man alone, and he only as regards his higher powers, is capable of aesthetic developments. We know, from § 49, that one and the same psychical process may be at once a notion., a desire, and a feeling, but that usually one of these aspects preponderates over the rest. What we have said in the present § about the Sublime and Beautiful shews clearly that both incline towards the notional side, that therefore they consist of pleasurable notions (see § 27), and be- long to the class of emotional psychical forms, (modes of feeling). (See § 24 and 50 at the end.) Hence, it is correct to say that the aesthetic region is that of affective, emotional notions : it would, if it could, assume th-^ form of feeling properly so called, (see the following §), and yet remains essen- tially distinct from it. The aesthetic, therefore, can only be called a feel- ing, if that word be used in its most extensive sense to denote every kind of disposition and sensation. § 53. The more Remote Factors of the Esthetic Feelings. The origin of the aesthetic feelings (of the Beautiful and Sub- lime) has up to this point not been perfectly explained. We have still to answer the questions — in what does their essential nature consist ? how comes it that many men remain completely § 53-] ^^ ^^^ Remote Factors of the Esthetic Feelings. 137 cold and unmoved by beautiful or sublime phenomena ? — why is it that similar aesthetic feelings are produced by objects so different ? and, lastly, what is the reason that many men find it more difficult to feel the agreeable than the sublime? The following remarks may serve to resolve these queries in their order. Suppose a violet affects me (my visual powers), and because it flowers so quietly and secretly, I attribute to it the quality of modesty. I have added to it, in thought, something which really comes from within myself. Whether a violet really is modest, I do not know, but I am sure that I could not think of the nettle as modest, but rather as malicious, because, when touched, it makes a destructive impression on my vital powers. Is the rose animated by love, the lily by innocence, the tulip by pride ? I do not know ; but the impression which these flowers make on me is such as to excite involuntarily the notion and sensation (the tone and temper) of these qualities. These quali- ties I ascribe to thi m : I have given them an internal something derived /row my own mindj which corresponds to their external appearance : I deepen my apprehension of such objects (take a deeper view of them), by attributing to them my own disposi- tions, according to the impressions which they make on me. I do the same when I regard the oak as a symbol of strength, or a rock surrounded by the roaring sea as an emblem of steel fast- ness, the rapid stream as representing the fleeting nature of human life, a ruin as the sign of the transitoriness of all earthly things, &c. So long as such objects merely impress their out- ward forms on me, they simply produce on me a sensuous im- pression ; they cause an (Esthetic impression only when I render my apprehension of them deeper in the way described. I thus penetrate through their outward form into their inner heing^ seize them as they (from an emotional aspect) might be in themselves. That which by this union between the external and internal produces in us a gentler form of pleasure, as the rose, the lily, enamelled meadows, &c., we call Beautiful : that which causes a stronger and more intense pleasure, as the oak, a rock, the 138 The more Remote Factors of [§53* starry heavens, is called Sublime. Our psychical powers are manifested in the latter case as raised (enhanced) to a Jiigher and more vigorous condition. This is the special characteristic of the aesthetic feelings. Who are the persons, then, who remain quite cold in the pre- sence of beautiful or sublime objects? Those who are incapable of giving to external things the kind of interpretation de- scribed ; as, uncultivated people and young children, neither of whom have any consciousness of modesty, stedfastness, &c. ; and again, adults, who, though they are conscious of such qualities, have never been assiduously excited to underlay what they see with such notions, or who, at least, have not yet been educated sufficiently to perceive certain kinds of beauty and sublimity. Without special training at the hands of those whose cesthetic feelings have been already developed, the Beautiful and the Sublime remain to many persons an unknown world. According to § 48, feeling always implies a something by which we can measure it, a standard of comparison : if that changes, the feeling changes also (§ 51). !N'ow, as the development of man is progressive, it is impossible that his earlier standards should not change : the paintings, poems, pieces of music, which as children we admired, no longer come up to the more perfect patterns which we now are acquainted with as adults, and these patterns consequently prevent us now from viewing objects as we did, i.e. our changed feelings prevent us from doing so. While the little girl fancies that her doll smiles responsive to her, because she ascribes to it her own joys (joyous tone) ; the higher standard which a maiden of twenty has gained by her knowledge of men and things no longer allows her to fancy any- thing of the sort ; and, however pleasing a doll may still be to her, she would feel ashamed to attribute to it life and laughter as she once did. It is thus that we may explain the fact that the feelings of Eeauty and Sublimity are excited by very different objects, not merely in different men, but even in the same man, at different ages and in different tempers ; and, on the other hand, it is clear why objects which remain unchanged no longer continue beautiful or sublime as they once were. He §53-] the Esthetic Feelings. 139 who is satisfied by artistic products of little value, or who is insensible to the real beauty of objects of higher value, proves that his mental education is still seriously imperfect. Lastly, the fact that many men find it difficult to attain to feelings of the agreeable, and easy to acquire those of the sub- lime, is intelligible enough. Sublime feelings will never be found in those whose powers are weak and dull, but solely in those whose faculties are conspicuous for a high degree of force, tenacity and sensibility. To the rich, strong, and deep deve- lopment produced by such qualities, that which merely tickles the senses agreeably must appear insipid and commonplace, must therefore be felt only as dislike ; and it is impossible to interpret objects pleasurably in such a case, because such an interpreta- tion could only consist in something low, which souls strongly developed in the direction of what is noble do not care about. When, on the other hand, such tempers are affected by objects which harmonize with their high and lofty development, either in the kind or fulness of their stimulants, there some striking interpretation will not be wanting, and feelings of sublimity will easily and quickly start into existence. Consequently feelings of the agreeable are found more commonly in children and weak adults, since their powers possess greater vivacity and sensibility. By corresponding comparisons and interpre- tations, they are able of course to convert their feelings with ease into what they personally regard as beautiful and sublime ; but such Beauty and SubKmity must always be very flat and unsatisfactory to minds better endowed; and as this cannot be otherwise, it simply proves the truth of the adage, de gustilus non est disputandum (we have no business to quarrel over mat- ters of taste). When the impression made is too violent and perturbing, as a thunderstorm is to many men, the aesthetic mode of view- ing the object is checked. All objects which by their strength are adapted to produce the sublime feelings of majesty and might, presuppose a strong soul ; in feeble minds they cause the painful emotions of fear and terror, because they too vividly excite the consciousness of their weakness. 140 The more Remote Factors of the JEsthetic Feelings, [§53. If we gather up all tliat has been said, we arrive at the fol- lowing results : — a. The aesthetic feelings are a union between external impressions and emotions already existent within us. They are produced ly our not stopping at the sensible impressions made by things, but pushing on to their internal being and life, by our thinking their internal nature as analogous to our own, and thus spiritualizing the object of sense. b. In order correctly to lend external things our internal emo- tions, we must interpret them in such a way as is actually suitable to the impressions which they make on us, which mirror forth to us their internal condition. c. Since, however, we do not know the internal essence of exter- nal objects as we do that of our own internal states, our interpre- tations are very liable to be erroneous, and the more so because every one in apprehending anything (Bsthetically is necessarily re- stricted to his own {often very defective) stage of cultivation. And as the latter is dependent to some extent on the constitution of his original powers, it follows that a man^s degree of aesthetic cultiva- tion depends very largely on the amount of strength, tenacity, and sensibility possessed by them, but also very largely on exercise. d. Merely agreeable feelings may be produced by suitable stimu- lation of the senses ; as they require nothing more than this, they cannot be accounted aesthetic feelings. The language of everyday life pronounces much to be beautiful which ought to be merely called agreeable, because it not unfrequently regards sensations as feelings. Lower stages of the Beautiful are, the pretty, neat, charming, graceful, naive, &c. The noble, estimable, splendid, glorious, &c., are more allied to the Sublime. Why does the aesthetic please us without any • selfish interest ?' Be- cause it carries its own satisfaction with it : the main thing in it is not the feeling proper (which may easily grow into a selfish desire), but the notion of pleasure which it implies. Painful sensations may also be trained aesthetically ; how ? This is a question into which we cannot here enter, any more than we can into the still more profound fact, that aesthetic emotions may be engendered when no external objects are at the moment presented to us. See BeneJce's " Pragmatische Psychologic," vol. ii. p. 222 sqq. § 54-] Strength of particular Psychical Forms. 141 A remarkably good account of aesthetics will be found in the trea- tise: "Das Aesthetische nach seinem eigenthiimlichen Grundwesen und seiner padagogischen Bedeutung dargestellt. Eine gekronte Preisschrift von Friedrich Dittes." Leipsic, published by Julius KUnkhardt, 1854, price 15 ngr. § 54. Feelings of the Strength of particular Psychical Forms. In consequence of the Mutual Attraction of Similars, every psychical form has a new trace added to it, directly the act with which it commenced is repeated with sufficient perfection, and at the same moment a void unemployed original power be- comes modified and formed (§§ 6, 9, 10). Hence my notion, for instance, of the dome of the Frauen- kirche at Dresden, which I have seen perhaps twenty times, consists of that number of traces : the notion of my room, on the contrary, consists of many hundreds of them (§ 9). ' If I have desired an object once, my desire consists of a single trace; if a thousand times, then of a thomand traces (see § 28). If a pleasurable activity has existed once in my soul, I retain only one trace of it ; if ten thousand times, a psychical form consisting of ten thousand traces has arisen, (always supposing, of course, that actual traces have been left behind, and, therefore, that the processes in question were not too imperfect). "Who has ever calculated the number of traces out of which his psychical forms have grown ? No one : and yet our con- sciousness, if it does not furnish us with their numbers, will give us very exact details as to the strength of these forms. How? ' It often happens that we see, hear, touch, &c., so momentarily and in- exactly that these acts are not performed with any degree of perfection ; the condition under which alone traces can be produced is not then ful- filled. When I merely casually cast a look round my room, &c., this would generally be the case, and thus we may explain why such notions do not increase in strenjjth. For the same reason also, no one will learn anything who does not exert himself to do so. Moreover the remark in the note to § 49 holds good of the example of the dome of the Frauenkirche at Dresden, and in similar cases. 142 Strength of particular Psychical Forms. [§54- Let any one ask himself: Which do I know better, my dwelling-house or the church? The former would certainly appear a more strongly conscious form than the latter, and from this it follows that it is richer in traces. In the drunkard, which desire is stronger, more abundant in traces, that for brandy, or that for the comfort of his family ? Suppose he squanders his last farthing in drink, what would be our judgment then ? Which gives us more delight, to do a sum in arithmetic or to compose a letter ? If the former, I infer that the plea- surable form which has arisen from correct solutions of sums is stronger and richer in traces than that which has been pro- duced by writing letters ; and conversely. In a word : the psychical form which consists of a larger num- ber of traces^ always manifests itself with a feeling of greater Strength than another which consists of a lesser numher, directly loth are conscious together ^. Apart, however, from the number of traces, the feeling of strength de- pends largely on the kind of thing taken as a standard of comparison, and its peculiar constitution. This is especially the case in everything which ^ The number of traces of which a psychical form consists may be figuratively called its space. Hence, we may say that this form occupies a greater, that a less, space in the soul. Even in common life we use this metaphor, e.g. 'this anxiety occupies a large space in my soul,' i.e. it is very strong = consists of numerous traces. But the strength (or space) of a form may also increase without an augmentation of its traces : this is the case if the form is reproduced merely internally, when a portion of the movable elements which cause its reproduction become permanently attached to it, and thus strengthen its traces without adding to their number. There are, therefore, two ways in which the space (strength) may be increased, and BeneTce calls the first * strengthening in increscive,' the latter ' strengthening in accreseive, space.' We cannot enter into further details on the matter in this place. For additional information, see Dressier' s " Beitrage," &c.. Vol. ii. chap. 12 and 13, and BeneTce' s "Psychol. Skizzen," vol. ii. p. 417 sqq. Compare also § 75, below. [A more clumsy metaphor it would be hard to imagine : the absurd technical terms, eingewachsener Raum, and angewachsener Eaum, I have rendered by the best barbarisms that occurred to me.] § 55-] Feelings of Clearness^ Ohscurityy Sfc, 143 we call * correct.* A psychical form is consciously pronounced * correct * only when it is compared with a normal standard with which it should and does agree. The united notions which constitute this normal standard, are associated with the form compared with it, and this produces a group of notions which must assert itself with considerable strength ; while the (in- correct) form which stands isolated beside that normal, and deviates from it, must be felt as weak. If the standird itself is false, the agreement of a form with it will lead no doubt to error; an error, however, which cannot be discovered so long as that particular standard is adhered to : in such a case, the false passes for the correct. Hence the principle : the correct, or what is held to be so, will always be felt as strength ; the incorrect, or what is considered so, always as weakness. See above, p. 87, and compare §§57 and 58. It is self-evident that in such cases the strength will be manifested as pleasure or gatisfaction, weakness as pain or dissatisfaction. § 55. Feelings of the Clearness j Ohseuritg, and Indistinctness of Notions. "WTioever has learnt anything, knows that he did not get it into his head at one stroke. Let us take the simple letter A for an example. The child first hears some one say, look ! that is A ! And again, A ! and so on for many times running. After the first three, five, ten traces, A is still a dark afi'air in a child's soul. But the more similar traces increase, the clearer does it hecome in consciousness : and I should like to see the conjurer who could persuade a boy of twelve years old that he does not know A yet, although he has looked at it some hun- dred thousand times during six years of school. The multitude of similar traces renders the letter so clear to him, that he would very sceptically laugh in the fellow's face. He might succeed better with a child of six just beginning his alphabet, the first time he walks out of school with book and slate, to whom the teacher has just thrown out the letter A as a kind of bait. Being as yet deficient in traces, it cannot naturally present itself with the feeling of clearness. As com- pared with the notion of his hobby-horse, he would figure it to himself as ohseure, or with the feeling of ohscurity. Hence, for the first few weeks, children often confound the letters together. They do this most frequently when they have 144 Estimation of Worth. [§ 56. been taught too fast. Tiresome as this interchange of letters is to the teacher, it is easily accounted for. The letters resemble one another. But like fuses with like — hence the traces left by A may coalesce in the child's soul with those left by 0, or the reverse, and therefore with analogous, though, at the same time, different, traces. Grown-up people very often fall into the same error. How many mistake lead for tin, wheat for rye, quinces for apples, hemlock for parsley, &c. ; indeed, many take bats for birds, blindworms for serpents, and so on. In all such cases, similar parts of notions are intermingled with heterogeneous ones, because we do not examine objects resembling each other on all sides with sufficient care, but only apprehend them in the rough. But let a man only have cause to be puzzled about such notions, and let him compare them with those which are decidedly clear, and then, in spite of all their strength, he will feel that they are not clea/r (confused). Hence, the feeling of strength in our notions is distinguishable into three kinds : the feeling of clearness, of obscurity, of non- clearness (confusion), according as a form was produced from many similar, few similar, or of similar and dissimilar traces. What psychical forms must manifest themselves in the soul with the freshest (§ 47) feelings of clearness? and why ? (Compare §§15 and 16.) The remarks made in this § are applicable in particular to pleasurable notions. Compare §§ 24, 27, and 50. § 56. Estimation of Worth. In § 37 we have already seen what it is that mainly renders objects (persons and things) Goods or Evils to us. But as we could say nothing about Feelings then, though they are always con- cerned in the matter, we must now descend into particulars. Suppose that a bird so affects me by its form and colour, or even by its song, as to stimulate me pleasurably. By this means it produces in me a psychical form which, as being fuller of stimulants, deviates noticeably from those forms which have been engendered simply by sufficient stimulation. The pleasing form is compared with these latter as soon as they are excited into con- § 56.] Estimation of Worth. 145 sciousness along with it, as they usually are : in this manner it becomes a form felt or Feeling , and at once the bird becomes a good to me, not merely in the way of immediate sensation, but also, at the same time, in the way oi feeling. I should estimate it otherwise, if other forms were conscious along with it (§ 51). Hence it is inferred, that we estimate the ^vorth of an object hy the degree of pleasurable feeling which it produces in us hy its special mode of operation, and t}ts object is then called a (greater or lesser) good. Just think of fire. It may be so beneficent as to be a great good to us, but when it over-stimulates our vital powers, de- presses or damages them, the result must be a distorted form, which, when contrasted with more perfect forms, is felt as serious pain; while that is less the case when that misformation is measured by other depressed sensations. And thus fire becomes to us a greater or less evil. Or take hunger, which causes us more or less pain. That pain is caused by the fact that the digestive forces are weakened (not by over-stimulation, as by fire, but) by defective stimula- tion — by want of food to stimulate— their violent striving after satisfaction by means of stimulants remains unsatisfied, unap- peased. This yields a psychical form poor in stimulants, which, when contrasted with the numerous forms full of stimulants existent in men, is manifested now as a weaker, again as a stronger feeling of dislike, in a higher degree as a feeling of pain; and hence everybody justly calls hunger an evil, espe- cially when it is very violent and cannot be appeased. With thirst it is the same. Now, are these determinations of worth ? No doubt they are, but they are diametrically opposed to those we first mentioned. Hence, we infer that. We estimate the value of things also by the amount of dislike-, satiety, and pain which we feel them to cause us : hence, their value becomes a negative worth, commonly called worthlessness and damage, and the relative object is then called a (greater or less) evil. Now, as all things (compare § 37, at the end,) may, in this L 146 Estimation of Worth. [§ 56. manner, acquire a value in our eyes, which is essentially distinct from the mere notion of them, it may be asked, what is the general estimate of value that actually exists in a man ? It is the sum total of all pleasurable and painful forms which are produced in him as {very complex) sensations hy the different stimulants of things, and then subsequently, hy comparison, con- verted into feelings. Therefore, what we call goods and evils are feelings of vahie relative to things ; they are either positive (pleasurable feelings), or negative (unpleasant feelings). They are revealed to con- sciousness in three different manners : 1°. when they are being formed, as nascent ; 2°. on their reproduction, as pleasurable or unpleasurable recollections; 3°. as desires and repugnancies into which they have been internally developed. In the second case, these feelings of value exercise, as yet, no influence on our acts, they are regarded internally as something acquired, and give us what is called practical wisdom, prudence (in contradis- tinction to theoretical knowledge). In the third case, on the contrary, they form the foundation of our actions : they act here as efficients (motives) for what we do or refuse to do, and are what, in common language, are called good or bad sentiments and principles. In all these three shapes the values of objects are, for the most part, determined immediately, the concepts into which those objects may have been developed are not necessarily reproduced : the mere elevations and depressions directly caused by objects may, by their mere juxtaposition in consciousness, suf- fice to determine their value. Before we discuss the further effects of this, we beg to call the reader's attention to the following remarks. § 57. Gradation of Goods and Evils. So long as they are conscious together, the factors of every feeling are permeated by the movable elements, a portion of which remains and connects them into a stable group, so that when one member of it is excited the remainder are reproduced in consciousness (§§ 38 and 47). This furnishes ready formed § 57«] Gradations of Goods and Evils. 147 feelings, which merely require to be reproduced. Kow, as void unemployed original powers are transformed and used only when affected with sufficient strength by fresh stimulants (§§ 9 and 30), and since when so transformed into new traces, they coalesce with those traces like them which already exist and strengthen them, it follows that the divergence between the several factors of feel- ing must also change. The factor that is strengthened must assert itself with redoubled consciousnesSy as contrasted and com- pared with that other which is connected with it, and thus the feeling itself increases in strength. This is true both of unpleas- ing and of pleasing feelings. Suppose I meet a man totally unknown to me — how shall I value him ? Exactly as I value all persons unknown to me, i.e. I measure his worth by that general standard which I have formed for men in general, a standard generated by the impressions which they made upon me, excluding such cases as those where men had something particularly remarkable about them. The impression hitherto made by this person upon me exactly agrees with that standard. Let us suppose, on the contrary, that this unknown person lives with me a long time, and that by causing me pleasure a thousand times he produces a pleasurable psychical form, consisting of a thousand traces; then the strength of that form would raise him far above other men in my estimation ; I should value him more than I do them ; indeed, he would become more decidedly a higher good for me than one who had caused me pleasure a hundred, or even five hundred times. If he had depressed me, produced feelings of dislike in me, I should value him negatively, I could not consider him as other than an evil to me. Still this need not lead me formally to hate him, supposing me, by good training, to have acquired such strong psychical forms as would enable me to despise his perversity : I should then, at the most, only feel disposed to pity him. The following example may illustrate the gradation of nega- tive estimates : I have been often obliged to go about in rainy weather, when 148 Gradation of Goods and Evils. [§57- the roads were bad. From this an unpleasurable form, caused by looo traces (I choose purely arbitrary numbers), has been pro- duced as respects the roads; by bad roads, caused by snow, I have a form, consisting only of one hundred traces. I should, therefore, not account such roads good. The standard which I employ for comparison is the notion and value of dry roads. Now it is only natural that I should feel the first disagreeable form more strongly, for its traces are more numerous. Hence, by mere pure internal consciousness, I accurately distinguish the values of the t^vo states of road respectively. And so it is with all objects (persons and things). Whether we estimate an object as a greater or less good or evil depends primarily on the strength of (the number of traces in) the plea- surable or non-pleasurable form which it produces in us, and also on the comparison implied in it. Such a form is always judged by reference to a standard allied to it, which has been produced by similar objects, but which is now not so strongly present to consciousness. Thus all goods and evils assume in all souls a definite grada- tion. Whether this arrangement is that which is implied by genuine morality is another question, which we shall endeavour to answer afterwards. Is there, then, anything astonishing in the fact, that there are people who assign a great positive or negative value to things which are to others quite indifferent ? A little girl cries her eyes red, if her doll, with, very often, only half a face, is in question ; and many a lady feels herself unhappy if she cannot follow the last fashion, though it may even deform her. There we see a man rummaging every dung- hill, and his countenance is lighted up with joy if he manages to meet with some dirty beetle. Here another marches on undis- mayed for hours together in sweltering heat to see, for the first time, some petty flower, or to look at it again. Many an one sits all night long in a smoky room at the card-table, as if fasci- nated, and is more delighted even at losing than others are with glory and honour. A good many people say, we cannot comprehend how men §58.] True Estimate of Value, 149 can take pleasure in such things. Of course they do not, and cannot comprehend it, for it is impossible for them to feel any- thing as others do. Such objects have either never affected them at all, or only very slightly. But if they had been so affected, if they had gained many a pleasant impression from them, they would be perfectly able to comprehend it ; and conversely, if they had experienced the sense of displeasure in their own per- sons, which have produced in others an apparently incompre- hensible repugnance to certain things, they would find that repugnance no longer incomprehensible. Thus we perpetually come back to the statement, that a thing becomes a good or an evil for us only in proportion as it produces in us a stronger or weaker pleasurable or unpleasurable psychical form, which is in part enhanced, or otJierwise modi- fied hy the feelings excited along with it. § 58. The original Constitution of all Men determines for them all a like Gradation of Goods and Evils. True Estimate of Value, The preceding §§ have shewn how objects become goods or evils to us. Now we already know from § 7, that every trace is more perfectly formed, and is more permanent in proportion as the original power, which is transformed into a trace, is more tenacious and strong K Therefore these traces must be formed most perfectly in the higher senses (in those of sight and hearing, and especially in those of touch, compare § 8), whether those powers are developed into estimations of value, or into mere notions. * We beg to remind the reader, that traces are nothing but the powers themselves developed and modified by stimulants, and to caution him against falling into the mistake of supposing that the stimulant taken up constitutes the trace. Compare § 6. In the more highly developed soul there are, indeed, traces which have been, to some extent, divested of their stimulant, because they have been left by processes in which psychical forms have been excited only on their subjective or power side. For fur- ther details see § 77. 150 The Original Constitution of all Men determines [§58. Similar traces connected in larger numbers yield strong psy- cliical forms. Now let us suppose that, in a man/w% developed, every psychical form, in all his six senses, consists of an equal number of traces ; then it will necessarily follow, that those of the higher senses must possess a higher degree of strength than those of the lower. For, owing to their want of tenacity, the impression made on any of the lower senses is far too faint to permit a form produced by a hundred traces to have that degree of strength which must be possessed by one engendered by an equal number of traces in any of the higher senses. In the for- mer case, the powers are much less perfectly developed by the stimulants than they are in the latter, and, consequently, those traces can never be so perfectly reproduced in the one case as they can in the other. As the higher senses are capable of a greater elevation, so their depression {weakening) must be greater than is the case with the lower senses, so that their forms admit of a greater degree of misformation, are exposed to greater perversion, than the others. Take, as a special example, those who have been rendered idiotic by over-stimulation. It follows, then, that the feelings of pleasure and dislike must he manifested in the higher senses with greater strength than can be the case in the lower, supposing, that is, that the accu- mulation of traces is equal in both cases. The tenacity, therefore, of the original powers is graduated, but the difference between them in this respect does not resem- ble that of their vivacity and sensibility ; for these qualities vary largely in different men, and the mode in which they vary is not subject to any precise and constant law (Compare §§ 5 and 14). But, with regard to their tenacity, the case is different. Among men mentally sound it is impossible, as we have already seen in § 8, to find one whose lower senses possess that tenacity which the higher senses have in other persons, and conversely. The tenacity of the powers is always alike, in that their order and gradation is the same : the higher senses are in all men higher, merely because they are more tenacious and stronger. In like manner stimulants are essentially the same for all men; so that, § 58.] for them all a liJce Gradation of Goods and Evih. 151 for instance, the same stimulants of light or sound elevate or depress the powers of all alike, so long as they are not actually diseased. Lastly, in all men the law prevails, that all traces left by such acts coalesce in proportion to their similarities. Conse- quently, the factors which produce our psychical forms are for all men the same. Like factors^ however y produce like results. Hence, all feelings must, in point of strength, be graduated in all men in the same manner, so that every one feels the pleasures or pains of the higher senses to be stronger than those of the lower, always supposing that each form in each sense consists of the same num- ber of traces, and that, on becoming conscious, it is compared with the same standard, as is actually the case with feelings already formed. Now, if the valus which we attribute to an object depends on this strength of pleasurable or painful feeling (§§ 55 and 56), it follows finally. That (on the supposition before mentioned) there must he for all men a like gradation of goods and evilSf in accordance with which all must necessarily value those objects which produce plea- sure or pain in the higher senses as greater goods or evils ; and those objects, on the other hand, as inferior goods or evils, which only cause pleasure or pain in the lower senses. If we reflect that every object that affects us leaves only one trace behind it, it wiU be quite obvious that this gradation must be identical for all men. The acquisitions of the senses, especially those of the higher senses, are further developed into concepts, judgments, conclusions, ideas, principles, &c., and thus forms are engendered which transcend all that has been ob- tained from without, and they constitute the non-sensuous, the purely men- tal and spiritual in man. The original powers are, in fact, spiritual and mental, and they are only called sensuous for the reason mentioned in p. 8. Compare the preceding note and § 77. During this progressive development the greater tenacity of the higher powers cannot be lost, it must rather be increased, since, as we have seen, a greater amount of similar [impressions] are accumulated ; and when once these forms are presented to consciousness side by side, and have thus been formed into feelings, no one is able to feel what is then manifested in them as a lower kind of thing. Again, since these forms constitute a graduated series, the same 152 The Original Constitution of all Men determines [§58. number of traces must yield one and the same gradation among them for all men. Hence, this similar gradation of goods and evils is shewn to be necessarily valid for all mankind, because it is based, in all cases, on the same factors : on the various grades of tenacity pos- sessed hy the senses in all men, on the identical nature of the stimu- lants affecting them, and on the law of the coalescence of lihe traces which prevails in every soul. Accordingly, all men must value things, and act with regard to them in a similar manner, because their desires, repugnancies, and acts of will, &c., &c., cannot differ, if they spring from estimates formed in a similar manner, and they spring only and solely from such estimates. Hence, what incites to action must be everywhere developed with greater or with less intensity and force, according as higher or lower estimates prevail. "We call this gradation the true esti- mate, the true standard of practice. It is the rule by and with which all that men value or do has to be measured and judged ; and hence it forms what is called the supreme Moral Law (the fundamental principle of morals). Accordingly, the highest moral rule and standard is that gradation of goods and evils, or of the value of ohjects, which is valid for all mankind equally ™. "* Every one knows that it is only the like that is commensurable, i.e. only like can measure like, can determine its worth and validity ; it is only by the like that it is possible to judge whether anything is true and correct, or false and wrong. Length can only be measured by length (perches, ells, feet, inches, &c.) ; duration of time only by periods of time (days, hours, &c.); weight by weights (hundredweights, pounds, ounces, &c.) ; forms and colours in a picture by other forms and colours ; sounds in music only by other tones ; numbers only by numbers ; and generally notions only by notions. The reason why it appears as if our estimates of things were mea- surable by notions is that from them, as from all other practical forms, con- cepts are produced in the process of abstraction : but the concept, desire, for instance, is something totally different from a concrete actual desire ; and similarly the concept, estimation or valuation, is very diiferent from a concrete estimate. The latter forms are capable of moving us to act, the former are not. Consequently, estimates can only be measured by esti- mates. In all cases, the correct standard grows out of that which is to be § 58,] for them all a like Gradation of Goods and^EviU. 153 y That this rule is not a theoretical one, not a rule for the mere formation of notions, is self-evident. We may express it in an imperative shape, and say : So estimate things as goods or evils, and so act, that your deeds may accord with that gradation in the values of things which is identical far all mankind. If expressed so as to be applicable to special cases, it would run thus : "In every particular case, do that which the true estimate of things shews to he the highest good" Therefore, prefer the enjoyment of a higher sense to that of a lower one, a mental perfection to a fleeting pleasure, the weal of a larger community to your own limited happiness; for that which gives happiness to thousands is a thousand times more valuable than that which merely gives happiness to an individual. If you act thus, you prefer the higher to the lower, the noble to the ignoble, the permanent to the transient, and no system of morals, however it may be expressed, essentially requires anything but this. See § 67 at the end. On this and the following paragraphs compare an excellent treatise by Friedrich Dittes called " Naturlehre des Moralischen und Kunstlehre der moralischen Erziehung." Leipsic, published by Gustav Mayer, 1856. measured by it : it is (excluding the cases of favourite measures of length, time, and weight) that which is for all mankind universally similar [das Allgemein-menschlich-Gleiche'] as conditioned and determined by the si- milarity of the factors of which it consists. Take, for instance, the su- preme law in music. It is involved in the scale C, D, E, F, G, A, B, C. That alone is musically correct which accords with this scale of notes, or others like it. It is not innate in any man, it does not actually exist in him ready-made at his birth, but arises in all men in and along with the not» s of which they gain a knowledge, and never before that ; but when they are once known it arises necessarily, for the powers of hearing and the sti- mulants of sound, the two conditions on which such a law or scale d^ pends, are the same in all men mentally healthy, in all men possessing the sense of hearing in a healthy condition. It is, therefore, a natural rule, or standard (it grows up naturally), in exactly the same way as the moral rule is so. It is called a musical standard, or rule, only because sounds which accord with it yield music ; and, in like manner, the natural standard of our estimates of objects is a moral one only because estimates formed in accordance with it have morality (virtue) for their result. It is obvious that every standard must become perverted and erroneous, if the development by which it is engendered, and therefore by which it becomes a rule capable of immediate application, is in any way upset or hindered. 154 Solution of Apparent Contradictions. [§ 59. § 59. Solution of Appa/rent Contradictions; false Estimates. Our experience both of ourselves and others frequently ap- pears to be in flat contradiction to what has been said above. How many men are there who set a so-called sensuous enjoy- ment, i.e. one which excites the lower senses and the forms con- nected with them, far above a mental pleasure, i.e. one which arouses the higher senses and their belongings? How many selfishly desire that which they ought to exert themselves to acquire and expend for the common good. Where is there any appearance of a necessity that all men should esteem the higher as of greater ^ the lower as of less value, or that they must exhibit such an estimate of things in all their actions ? This question has been to some extent already answered in the preceding §§. The moral rule arises out of those germs which at a human being's entrance into the world form his en- tire stock of means for estimating objects : it does not therefore exist at birth ready-made, it is a something dependent on our na- tural dispositions (a something presupposed and implied by them), and, therefore, it is liable to numerous checks and disasters in the course of its development. It stands on the same footing as the rules and standards of thought and speech ; these, like it, are universally valid, and yet their validity is not universally acknowledged, because they are not in all cases perfectly evolved. It is not, therefore, difficult to solve the contradictions men- tioned above. Let the following remarks be considered. If a feeling of pleasure or of dislike is to grow to permanently greater strength, one of their factors, the pleasurable or un- pleasurable /or w, must arise in one of the higher senses, and must be compounded oi numerous traces (§ 57). ITow there are parents, for instance, who, from foolish love for their children, indulge them in all kinds of dainties ; and who, therefore, excite frequently and pleasurally the low-lying gustatory powers; while they take too little pains to educate the higher senses. What will this lead to ? Although the higher senses form and preserve far more perfect traces, yet § 59-] Solution of Appa/rent Contradictions. 155 they will very soon be surpassed, as far as the strength of plea- sure is concerned, by those traces which are so constantly being produced in the lower senses. The little that does or can arise in the higher senses, under such circumstances, remains poor in traces, whereas what is developed in the lower ones becomes abundant and rich in them. No wonder, then, that such chil- dren, when they grow up, value a good table more than a good book, for instance, or any other mental enjoyment. In like manner, thousands of children acquire a large number of plea- surable traces in their muscular powers, by being allowed to run about idly, to make a noise, and play the fool, &c., by all of which their powers are, of course, not disagreeably excited. Meanwhile their powers of sight and hearing are not properly educated by appropriate impressions, and therefore remain proportionably destitute of true genuine development (in fact, a host of useful intuitions are completely lost by them) ; these lower estimates are constantly adding to the number of their traces, and thus there is nothing to be astonished at, if such children find no pleasure in the learning and observation to which school compels them, or that a wild and dissolute life possesses far more attractiveness to them. The attempt to re- strain low propensities in such souls, by higher considerations afterwards pressed upon them, and to diminish their tendency to become conscious, is rarely successful ; such persons belong all their life long to those who have no taste for refined and elevated pleasures. If, in the cases mentioned, the neglect of the higher powers might very well have been avoided, yet there are other circum- stances in which the training received by children must almost inevitably be detrimental to their faculties. Consider, for in- stance, races that live in inhospitable regions, who are scarcely able to protect themselves against hunger and cold; and on the other side, the higher powers cannot thrive where nature is so prodigal that she holds captive, so to say, the lower senses by continual enjoyments. Hence, if a large number of traces are accumulated, forms in the lower senses may attain to fa/r greater strength than those of 156 Solution of Apparent Contradictions. [§59 the higher, although the former senses are naturally less tenacioui than the latter. No doubt this is a perversion, wherever it occurs ; still it does occur, and thus originates a perverted order in the gra- dation of goods and evils. Then that alone is valued which flatters the lower senses : what elevates the nobler senses passes for worthless. Hence, we may comprehend how the true valua- tion (the correct practical standard) remains undeveloped, and how that which we call a false estimate or a perverted practical prudence (folly) is produced. Life furnishes abundant examples of this. It hardly needs be observed that false estimates of things are formed as slowly and as gradually as true ones. A sudden deterioration is as impossible as a sudden improvement, (as suddenly becoming noble, and good, or virtuous). At any rate, no one passes from ignorance to knowledge suddenly — no one suddenly becomes a savant °. That the moral rule may be pa/rtially right, and in other respects false, and therefore partially incorrect, is obvious, and is amply confirmed by experience. § 60. 'Feeling of Strength in Desires and Repugnancies. Every one gains a more or less comprehensive view of the world : it is theoretical^ in so far as it produces in him notions : it is practical, in so far as it causes him pleasurable or unplea- " Are there, then, no such things as sudden " conversions V Has not many a criminal been rendered quite another man in a short time by- spiritual advice given in a prison ? He has not been rendered quite an- other man, it only appears as if he had : when the minister has wrought such a seeming miracle, goodness must have been long existent in the criminal : it was concealed as it were and smothered by the false, and has now at length been raised strongly into consciousness. Thus it again be- came active, whilst his bad qualities are driven back into unconsciousness, and so rendered impotent. Where goodness is totally wanting, the most eloquent clergyman can do nothing, as is proved by the case of hardened criminals confirmed in wickedness. A Saul can only become a Paul if the latter, in all essentials, lies already dormant in the former. § 6o.] Feeling of Strength in Desires and Repugnancies. 157 surable forms. The former do not impel us to act, they are a mere dead inactive picture of the world ; the latter move us to act or forbear action ; for pleasure or pain produce desires and repugnancies, and hence this is ipso facto a practical view of the world. There is, therefore, a great difference between a theoretical and a practical view of the world. He alone is properly a wise man whose practical view of it is correct, and he alone is properly a fool whose practical view is perverted, consists in false estimates. In the preceding § we merely shewed that o. false estimate of things is often developed in the place of a true one, and why it is so ; but we said nothing as to the way in which the former is manifested in action. So long as the false estimate remains a mere estimate, it is simply manifested internally as a feeling, and even when it is expressed in words and propositions, nothing more is revealed than what in common parlance is called Folly y i e. a ^gtw^vX.g6. practical view of the world. But such estimates are also reproduced in the shape of desires and repugnancies y seeing that they are internally convertid into them (see § 56 and compare §§ 27, 33, and 34); and they thus lead to action in a totally different manner ; for when they take these shapes they may increase to any amount of strength. They stand in the same position as the original pleasurable and unpleasurable forms (felt notions of pleasure and displeasure, § 27). The more complex their formation, i.e. in proportion as they grow into forms consisting of more numerous traces, the greater must be the strength with which they manifest them- selves. All the psychical forms which we denote by the names • inclination, disinclination, detestation, propension, desire, want, passion, vice,"* furnish examples of this. "We frequently find persons in whom they have been developed with such im- moderate strength and might that they extinguish all opposite notions, impulses °, and feelings, and thus hurry away a man to do evil, often against his better judgment. •» That is to say (opposed) desires and repugnancies. Man has no innate impulses and desires, nothing existing a(part from and beside his active 158 Immorality: Corrupt Will. [§ 6i. § 6i. Immorality [Unsittlichkeit] : Corrupt Will. The preceding § may and will throw light on the following phenomena. Here is a man who really believes health to be a greater good than a low and transient enjoyment; for his own expe- rience has often proved to him that health is a more lasting blessing than a fleeting pleasure which shatters it. But when the opportunity for a fresh gratification presents itself, his vio- lent desires are too strong for him to resist. There is another, who depicts to himself with honest convic- tion the blessedness of benevolence, for he experienced it in his own person when, in earlier days, he felt inclined to succour the unfortunate. But now he is in a state of lazy self-indulgence, to which he has become accustomed ; is he to sacrifice it in order to assist the miserable ? It is too hard for him ; he cannot do it. Another acknowledges to the full the utility of good schools, for he owes his best knowledge to one of them. A new one is to be established: ask him to contribute to it, and he will warmly recommend it ; but do not expect that he will subscribe money, though he is well to do. Here, lastly, is a fourth, who so shuns the inconveniences of bad weather that he will not venture out of his room, and would rather imperil his health than risk a walk, while another pays attention to it in spite of wind and rain. In all these cases, each man estimates objects correctly enough, and yet is not sufficiently influenced by his belief. How is that to be accounted for ? Psychical forms of too great strength, and opposed to what they believe to be advantageous, had been produced in them, and what is more, they have been produced in the shape of desires and repugnancies. In the first instance, such a form was the desire for low sensual indulgences ; in the second, the love of ease and original powers and developed forms (whether corporeal or mental). Com- pare the note on p. 70. § 6 1.] Immorality: Corrupt Will. 159 laziness ; in the third, love of money ; in the fourth, dislike to inclement weather. Therefore, in all of them a false and exag- gerated impulse tyrannized over their correct estimate of things. This kind of perverted growth, which frequently mars a man's better self, is called in common life by the name of immorality [TJnsittlichkeit] or corrupt will. Immorality in a narrower and stricter sense p, therefore, is the immoderate strength of the desires and repugnancies over- riding the true value of objects. If we sum up what has been said in this and the preceding §, we arrive at the following results : Deviations from the trm estimate of things, as described in § 58, may be engendered in two ways: 1°. Particular feelings of pleasure or dislike may gain exag- gerated strength by a too abundant accumulation of traces : this we call a false estimate of value. Folly, or a perverted prac- tical view of the world. 2°. Particular desires and repugnancies may acquire immo- derate strength when and because the plcasui-able or unplea- surable forms are too frequently reproduced in these shapes: this produces * immorality,' properly so called, or * the corrupt will''.'' A. third deviation essentially distinct from the other two is produced, in many men, by the fact that their practical educa- tion has not been carried far enough to enable them to form any estimate of what is really of higher value. As is well known, a good many value the merely speculative, e.g. history, mathe- matics, astronomy, &c., simply because their training was stop- ped before it ought to have been, generally through no fault of theirs ; and in like manner, patriotism, the public good, national education, general enlightenment, &c., are accounted to be no goods by some, merely because they have never had an oppor- p Taken in a wider sense, immorality includes not only false estimates, but also false impulses and efforts. q On " Maliciousness" [Bosbeit], which forms a distinct kind of corrupt will, see JBeneke's " Lelirbuch der Psychologie," § 274, sqq. 160 "Feeling of Duty : Conscience. [§62. tunity of becoming practically acquainted with them. This we call defective moral development^ or moral crudity. In order to remove it, nothing more is required than increased education; whereas, totally different means are necessary in order to correct false estimates of things and a corrupt will ; for these false growths have first to be removed before anything better can take their place and assert itself. See the end of the following §. §62. Feeling of Duty : Conscience. This slialt thou do, that thou slialt not do ! so speaks a voice which I in common with other men often hear within. Thou hast done rightly, thou hast done wrongly ! This also I hear not less frequently in my soul. — What is this voice, and how is it produced ? Is it something accidental and capricious, or is it necessary, inevitable, constant? "When the man mentioned in the first example of the preced- ing § felt that health was something of more value than a fleeting enjoyment prejudicial to it, there were two psychical forms pre- sent to his consciousness : one was an estimate coinciding with the moral rule, and the other a desire at variance with it. The first form sprang from the very depths of human nature, from something towards which that nature inevitably strives and tends, because it is naturally disposed to uninterrupted and har- monious development : the second form did not correspond to that disposition, it was something alien to it, a mere contingent addition to that correct and normal development, for it need not and ought not to have been there. Can we wonder, then, that the former proclaimed itself as an ought, (as something which ought to be,) when contrasted with the preternatural desire ? Thus, then, arose that feeling which we call a feeling of Duty. Now, let us suppose that the desire conquered because it was stronger than the correct estimate ; it would then be impossible for the man not to be conscious that he had acted perversely. For as soon as the tumult of enjoyment was over, the natural and normal estimate of the value of health returned into con- sciousness and measured itself with (compared itself with) the §62.] Feeling of Duty : Conscience. 161 detrimental pleasure which he had indulged in. He felt the undutifulness of his conduct ; and that feeling we call conscience, which must in this case be a remorseful (** w«7") conscience, be- cause it disapproved of the deed committed. Now let us suppose, on the contrary, that the carrect estimate ■won the day, because it was at the moment stronger (as, at first, it always is,) than the desire rendered violent by constant repe- tition ; this must engender a cheerful and approving feeling. He was conscious of the conformity of his act with the moral rule (the subjugation of the desires), and thus he had a peaceahle, good conscience. Hence it is clear that Duty and Conscience a/re at bottom the same. Both of them are a feeling^ a comparison drawn between our estimates and impulses, which partly accompanies, partly pre- cedes, and partly follows our actions. As a feeling preceding, it either encourages or warns, according as we feel an impulse to be conformable to, or discordant with the moral rule. It is then called especially a feeling of duty. As subsequent, it either dig- approves or approves of an act performed, according as it contra- dicted or harmonized with the rule. It is then especially called Conscience; in the former case a bad, avenging, gnawing, &c., (in particular called Remorse) ; in the latter a good, peaceable, joyful, &c., conscience. As regards the names given to this feeling, it is further to be noticed, that it is, in particular, called "conscience" when it vindicates the moral rule as against our own actions ; whereas it is usually spoken of as * a feeling of duty' (the voice of duty) where the moral rule proclaims what all ought to do under like circumstances, so that it points out what duty is in general under certain combinations of circumstances. But as most men act under circumstances and in relations different from my own, or those of any other individual, it is clear that the ' ought' which we call duty, has a far wider range than the * ought' which re- veals itself as conscience '. ' Be it remarked that while it is easy in theory, it is yet often difficult in practice, to decide whether a psychical form deviating from the true M. 162 Feeling of Duty: Conscience. [§62. Now it may be asked, to what extent does conscience (the feel- ing of duty) prevail among men ? We see savages slaughter their enemies, and tear them to pieces, and sleep as peacefully as Christians who have returned good for evil. — In the middle ages torture and horrible mutila- tions, &c., &c., were employed as means of getting at the truth, and for punishment, and conscience raised no objection to it. Bude uncultivated men ill-treat brutes, cheat or slander their neighbour, &c., &c., without any twinges of conscience. Ee- present to them the injustice of their conduct, they will only wonder that you should be moved by such * trifles.' '' Where's the harm of it?" How are such facts to be accounted for ? Is conscience sleep- ing here } ]N'o ! In such cases it is not present at all, it has not Where conscience is to reveal itself, there, as was previously shewn, the true estimate of things must come into consciousness along with the false estimate or the exaggerated impulse. Now savages have no such estimate of men, who, though enemies, still remain men, hence it does not restrain them from barbarity : the estimate of things in an over-strong feeling of pleasure or dislike, or an over-strong desire or repugnance ; for, as has been shewn several times, both are in general mixed up together, since every desire is in fact a plea- surable notion which has lost some of its stimulants, and in which stimu- lant and power mutually measure each other, not to mention that the whole notion will also measure itself by other co-existent forms. In the case of repugnancies, the opposing form is likewise one highly excited, and possessing a pleasurable tone or tension brought into contrast with one of an opposite kind; and as a pleasurable notion can hardly equal the original sensation of pleasure, because by the process of diffusion some of its stimu- lant is lost (yet see § 27 at the end), it follows that a weak kind of effort will almost always be implied in it. The distinction between the two is this : an over-strong /eeZm^ of pleasure will be marked by a simple internal liJcing for the enjoyment, an over-strong desire by a weakish, self-for- getting, ahandonment to it : and this with regard to both where the enjoy- ment consists at the moment in nothing more than the internal reproduc- tion of a pleasure previously enjoyed. Compare Benelce's " Psychol. Skiz- zen,'^ Part I., p. n6 sqq., and p. 121. §62.] Feeling of Duty : Conscience. 163 uncultivated man has none of hrutesy of tlie property of others, &c., &c., hence it does not prevent him from acting cruelly and deceitfully, &c., &c. Thus, then, it is clear that conscience in men extends only so far as the trite estimate of things has arisen or been engendered in them. If that estimate is wanting, conscience cannot shew itself as advising, disapproving, in short, as judging right or wrong, and to that extent men are wanting in the feeling of duty, in conscience. Consequently it is an error to talk of an innate conscience, if by that is meant a ready-formed one, as it is equally erroneous to ascribe to a developed man only one con- science. On the contrary, they are as numerous as are his particular feelings of the agreement or disagreement of his seve- ral estimates and acts with the true moral rule. Duty and Conscience are in fact essentially one, and our feeling of duty in individual cases is itself always individual. The moral rule consists of purely individual forms, each of which is itself a rtde : it is only when considered abstractedly that the moral rule can be denominated one. The ^erring' conscience may be explained from the fact that in many cases false rules and standards take the place of true ones, and the so-called ^' unconscientiomness,^^ consequently, when fairly viewed, is, for the most part, not an absence or utter want of conscience, but only a perversion of it, and in such cases, if conscience is, as people say, to be awakened, i.e. if the trtte con- science is to be engendered, the first thing to be done is to set up the correct rule or law. This is a difficult task, because the false rule already in existence is not unfrequently so strong, that it is impossible quite to annihilate it; — under the most favourable circumstances the best that can be hoped for is to permanently banish it from consciousness. A * sleeping^ conscience, properly so called, is only to be found in cases of great absence and con- fusion of mind, when, though it exists, it is not able to act. §6$. Moral Freedom, or Morally Free Will. Judas Iscariot had certainly a feeling for the goodness of his Lord, who had shewed him nothing but kindness, and yet 164 Moral Freedom^ or Morally Free Will. [§63. Judas betrayed Him for thirty pieces of silver. Catherine dei Medici well knew what general love of one's neighbour meant, and yet she could not repress her hatred of Protestants. She contrived the massacre of St. Bartholomew. Which was more strongly developed in Judas, love of money or love for his Master? Which was more powerful in that queen, hatred of the Protestants or love of her neighbour ? Experience has answered these questions for us. Both were under the yoke of sin, i.e. in both of them thQ false estimate and impulse prevailed over the true rule, false pleasure over true pleasure ^ Now let us think of examples of an opposite kind : of Joseph in Egypt, when he rejected the temptress ; of David in the cave, when he spared his enemy Saul; of Luther at Worms, when he declared before king and emperor, ** I neither can nor will retract." In these latter cases, the true estimate declared itself with greater force than the estimates and desires opposed to it ; the moral outweighed the immoral; in fact, the latter was wholly absent. But this preponderance was produced, in the one case as in the other, only gradually, for an external object can only leave one trace behind it at a time, and consequently it exercises no sudden converting compulsion upon us. When it seems to do so, the simple external impression merely helps to reproduce that which has been already gradually formed within us, and which corresponds with that impression. Consequently, all the power which impels to, or restrains from action, lies, at the moment of acting, simply and solely in the interior of a man ; in the sum of his psychical forms, which are either conformable to, or discrepant with, duty. Now as these, if we pay no at- tention to the influences of external things on us, are consoli- * It is well known that the term * pleasure * is not used always to de- note the lower and reprehensible pleasure, but rather for our higher and nobler emotions [Steigerungen]. Thus, the Bible says, " The works of the Lord are great, sought out of them that have pleasure therein." [Ps. cxi. 2. Substituted for the original German, /* habe deine Lust am Herrn/' " habe Lust am Worte Gottes."] § 63.] Moral Freedom, or Morally Free Wilt. 165 dated quite quietly, badness may have taken root before we have noticed it, and in this manner most people are deceived who fall into moral corruption. They, in such cases, are inwardly dis- posed to yield to the impressions which they receive, they re- produce them frequently, and so strengthen them in the accrescive space which they occupy. (See the note on p. 142). Therefore be watchful as to the external influences under which you live. This is a holy precept ; and the educator's first duty runs thus : Be watchful over the circumstances which surround your pupil, and the more so the younger the child is. We are, therefore, absolutely free from any compuhion exer- cised by the external world over us. At the moment of action we are determined simply and solely by our internal consti- tution; the external world merely excites it, and, at most, strengthens it by one trace. In this consists the practical Free- dom, the practical Free Will of man. The wicked man possesses it just as well as the good. . Both are able to bid defiance to the outer world so completely, that present death itself does not deter them from executing their will : they would sooner die than yield ; and hence thousands have, ere now, confirmed the old truth, that " he who can die cannot he compelled.^^ " No one is obliged to be obliged*,'' as Lessing says in his Nathan. Now, may we call this practical freedom *' moral freedom?'* Unquestionably we may, if we understand the word ''moral" in a wide sense, but not otherwise*. For only the good man possesses trite or genuine freedom : in his soul alone a true esti- mate of things (at least) reigns, if it does not always govern ; it is stronger than other estimates and impulses diverging from the true view which may co-exist with it, and thus it prevents them from prevailing. But the internal struggle which often * [Niemand muss miissen.] ° In the wide sense of the term, everything that a man does externally or internally, be it good or bad, is called moral [sittlich]. Consider such phrases as — his moral condition is equivocal, is not to be applauded ; Ferdi- nand is not worth much, from a moral point of view. The context imme- diately determines whether it is used in the wider or narrower significa- tion : * Moral freedom ' is generally imderstood in the wide sense. 166 Moral Freedom, or Morally Free Will. [§63. takes place proves that the freedom has not as yet become a perfectly moral freedom. This can only exist when all such contests are over, because right has at length annihilated all op- posing wrong, and this perfect, all-sided moral freedom we find in no one except in our master Christ, He was free, not merely from all compulsion of the external world, but also from the in- fluence of anything immoral within. Man can choose between evil and good, and he will always be choosing between them, so long as he bears both about within him. This constitutes his arbitrariness, i.e. his choosing will. Yet it is not the weakest, but the strongest thing within him that will turn the scale. If his false estimsites and impulses are the strongest, he will act immorally/ ; if, however, the universally valid, the true estimate of value, has the upper hand within, then he will act morally, i.e. in a morally good manner. The weaker forms will determine his action only when the stronger are par- tially or totally precluded from acting by the immoderate excita- tion of the weaker ; a thing which occurs exceptionally in con- ditions of bewildering anguish, violent anger, &c,, &c., especially in the imperfectly educated. In all other cases the stronger forms prevail over the rest. Does a man, then, choose freely ? Yes; that is to say, when he chooses he is free from external compulsion, but he is not free from, or independent of, his internal development. To this he re- mains bound, because he never can escape from himself, and hence he possesses no absolute, no unconditional freedom ; i.e. he cannot resolve either for good or evil without some determining reasons, he cannot educe an act of will out of vacancy — out of nothing. The reason why this seems to be possible, in the case of many men, is, that their estimates and impulses, both for good and evil, are tolerably equal, or in equilibrium, so that sometimes the good, at others the bad, may be efficiently excited according to circumstances. Compare the preceding §, at the end. Therefore, a man who is really morally free cannot do evil, just as, on the other hand, one in whom false estimates and im- pulses predominate, is ruled by them (see Matt. vii. 16 — 18) ; and hence the Scriptures declare him not to be free, and call § 63.] Moral Freedom, or Morally Free Will. 167 him * a servant of sin, ^ notwithstanding his freedom from external compulsion. But they rightly call the truly free man ' a servant of righteousness* (uprightness). See the noble passage in Rom. vi. 16 — 22. AU freedom, therefore, is, when fairly looked at, the power of self-determination [Selbstbestimmbarkeit]. Now, as man at first, and directly after birth, cannot determine himself, because that act presupposes psychical forms capable of becoming conscious, it follows that, at first, he is not free, and that the external world determines his acts absolutely. But he has an innate capacity of becoming self-conscious, and therefore of determining himself, i.e. of Freedom ; and if his forces, one and all, were developed naturally, without let or hindrance, he would become free to do good, for originally no psychical power impels to evil, just as originally no corporeal power tends to disease. The cor- rect expression for the condition which we call by the nega- tive, and hence vague word, " Freedom " ( = independency), is, therefore, the power of self-determination. It is, from first to last, a something which is always growing, always gradually developing. Compare with this section two capital treatises : i^. **Ueber die sittUche Freiheit, mit hesonderer Berucksichtigung der Systems von Spinoza, Leibnitz und Kant. Oekronte Freisschr'ift. Nebst einer Abkandlung iiber Fuddmonismus," by Dr. Friedrich Dittes, Leipsic, published by Klinkardt, i860: 2°. "Die Willensfreiheit, Zurechnung und Strafe in ihren Grund- lehren" (those of empirical psychology), by Otto Bomer, advocate, Frei- berg, published by Craz and Gerlach, 1857. Besides this, further details on the subject, especially on the question of responsibility,, will be found in the essay by Dressier, mentioned above, in p. III. What has been said in §§ 56 — 63, then, perfectly solves the apparent riddles and contradictions which occur in the region of human disposition and action : but we cannot conclude this § without adding a very impor- tant remark. It is commonly thought that men's actions depend solely on notions; because the words, by which we encourage them to act, directly denote concepts, and our words are not unfrequently obeyed (though it must be admitted that very often they are not). Hence it is believed, that if we furnish any one with right notions we have given him suflBcient motives for 168 Moral Freedom, or Morally Free Will. [§63. right action, and, accordingly, young people are abundantly thus provided, in particular by religious instruction. But men's dispositions and acts spring from estimates of things, from feelings of value, and these can only be engendered by the objects them- selves. Instruction may reproduce, and thus strengthen them; it may concentrate them, and bring them to a right focus ; but it cannot directly furnish them. All that it can give are notions (in particular concepts), and external aptitudes ; nor is it to be denied that concepts are very valuable, they are, indeed, indispensable for the light which they shed on the soul. Still thousands have this light, and yet how badly do they act ! Hence education must step in here ; it must take care that young people are placed in relations of life where they will set a proper estimate on such ob- jects, and learn to feel their true value, which implies, that they are brought into contact with the things themselves ; it implies immediate experience, and this can only be obtained when we are directly occupied with the objects (persons and things) themselves, and act in relation to them. In particular, the good example of others is of the gravest importance, be- cause then the right course lies before our eyes, the proper estimation of things is intuitively exhibited to us. It is only in this manner that youth can be put into a position in which they can obtain correct notions and cor- rect impulses : it is thus only that they can learn to be morally good. So far as a psychical form is a mere notion, effort is quenched in it, and how should any impulse spring from that ? No wonder then that thousands are good who have never had the ad- vantages of education, as on the other hand thousands are bad in spite of the best instruction. Right estimates are the good ground in which alone the seeds of instruction take root and bring forth fruit a hundredfold. It was thus that even Jesus judged in the well-known and beautiful para- ble of four kinds of soil, which refers not to new-born children, but to adults to whom He applied it. Three parts of the seed. He complains, fall on thankless land (amidst ' the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches'), i.e. the instruction lights on false estimates of things, and hence it necessarily produces no moral improvement. Hence a Judas remained, in spite of the best instruction which he received immediately from Jesus Himself, loveless and a traitor : hence thousands heard the Master ' who preached with authority,' and their tempers were so little improved by it, that at last they cried out * Crucify Him,' not to mention the malicious Scribes and Pharisees who might, one would have thought, have under- stood Him at first. Moreover, let not instruction in Morals be confounded with instruction in Religion, Both are generally lumped together in the expression * Beli- gious Instruction;' yet there is an important difference between them. The religious, properly so called, relates to objects which we do not &now, § 63.] Moral Freedom^ or Morally Free Will. 169 but can only believe (embrace by faith), because tbey are not objects of ex- perience, but lie beyond all that is earthly : it refers to God and the life of the soul after death : the moral, on the contrary, has to do originally with what is purely perceptible, it is confined to what falls within the circle of human experience : for every one experiences in life what is uprightness, modesty, falsehood, pride, moderation, debauchery, peaceableness, hatred, envy, &c., — in general, what is right and wrong : he gains a knowledge of them. Now, as we are able still to love and reverence our relatives though dead, to listen to their behests, to be grateful to them : as such moral feel- ings and impulses may be transferred to those who lived long before our time (to the benefactors of mankind), so the same can and ought to be done in reference to God, and thus religious belief assumes a moral cha- racter, a character possessed in a marked degree by Christianity (the wor- ship of the heathen gods was and is very often immoral). But, in spite of the close connection between religion and morals, the two remain totally distinct ; and as there are men who possess much moral goodness and little religious belief, so there are others who join much religious belief to great immorality. So far as religion and morals consist of notions, and are there- fore theoretical, they may be soon produced by instruction ; but so far as they are rooted in feelings and impulses (and it is this practical side of them which constitutes their true essence), instruction can, for the most part, be merely of negative assistance, by pointing out and warning us against the errors and defects which may arise, by exciting the good op- posed to them, and depriving the evil, so far as possible, of consciousness, and thus of eflfective existence. That religion, when developed purely out of human nature without in- struction from without, springs out of something totally different from mo- rality, and what that source is, is explained inter alia in Beneke's " Lehr- huch der Psychologie als Naturwissenschaft," 3rd edit., § 223, sqq. The same subject is treated of in the following valuable treatise, " Ueher Religion und religiose Menschenhildung" by Friedrich Dittes. Plauen, 1855. It illustrates religion in all its aspects. § 64. It frequently happens that several Feelings, some Harmonious, some Inconsistent with each other, are simultaneously Conscious within us. After spending a good many days in my room engaged in dull, uninteresting affairs, I go with some friends on a bright spring morning into the fresh and fragrant wood ; larks are singing in the bright air, grasshoppers are chirupping in the dew-spangled 170 Mixed Feelings. [§ 64. grass, and we ourselves are singing and joking, &c. These are pleasurable impressions, which awaken in me large numbers of pleasurable traces. They are compared with my previous dry disposition of soul, and as they differ from them widely, they turn into feelings of greater freshness (§ 48). The total feeling which they produce in me is naturally one of great joyousness, for each single process is a pleasurable feeling, and all of them being of a like character, unite and form' an aggregate disposition or emotion. How correct this explanation is, I know full well from having experienced it at other times, and every one may test it for himself. For when I visited the wood hy myself, in unsettled weather, without merriment or song, it by no means produced in me the same pleasurable feelings : in fact, what I felt just now was so different from the joy of yesterday, that the latter seemed to me to be almost a dream. * Why are you so sorrowful to-day ? ' * I have got the head- ache.' — * You often have it, but I have never before seen you so downcast.' — * I was robbed last night.' — * I am very sorry to hear it.' — ' And besides that, my neighbour wants me to repay him in a week the four hundred dollars which I owe him.' ' ! triple misfortune ! ' We observe that feelings that harmoni%e together, that are of the same hind, strengthen each other when they are conscious together, for the homogeneous unites into one whole. On another occasion, I was in a joyous company. All that heart could desire I found there : food and drink, wit and song. And yet I could not manage to be as cheerful as the rest, for I had the toothache, and beside that, I could not banish from my mind sundry vexations which I had just encountered. Thus there were certain painful feelings excited within, side by side with the pleasurable feelings aroused by the company. Had I been free from toothache, &c., the agreeable society would doubtless have produced in me as great an emotion of pleasure (generally joyous tone) as it did in my companions : but if I had been left alone at home with my own thoughts and emotions, I should have felt the toothache and my vexations more keenly than I did. Hence it follows that, §65.] Feelings of Chratitude, Sfc. 171 Dissimilar i mutually opposed feeling s^ when simultaneously con- scious in the soul, limit or diminish each other's strength. In the following §§ we shall consider at greater length some feelings compounded in both these ways. § 65. Feelings of Gratitude, of Favour conferred^, and of Mortification. A poor man receives a present : it comes from his true bene- factor, whom he has long known and valued as a worthy, intel- ligent, and universally respected man. His eye glistens : he would be ready to go through fire and water to serve the revered donor ; in short, he is animated by the feeling of Gratitude. Obviously, here there are several harmonious and homogeneous feelings conscious together. To the feeling of the benefit (the present) conferred are added the feelings already formed in the recipient's soul as to the worthiness, the intelligence, and the general reputation of his benefactor. This explains the strength of the aggregate emotion which now surges within, makes his eyes glisten, and disposes him to render any service in return. Let us suppose, on the other hand, that somebody receives a benefit from a man whom he does not know, and whom he cannot suppose to bear him any particular good-will : let us suppose it a question of a few dollars which the unknown per- son lost in a bet, and which, because unclaimed by the winner, he resolves to give to the first deserving poor man that he meets. Here also the present would no doubt be attended by a plea- surable feeling, but it would be far from being so strong and high as in the preceding example : for it is a mere isolated emotion, and the homogeneous feelings present in the former case are wanting in this. Gratitude, therefore, in this case, re- mains a simple and hence weak psychical form. This feeling may under certain circumstances lose so much of the pleasure attached to it, that the favour may scarcely be felt * IGefiihl der Gnade, i.e. sense of having been graciously treated by a superior, for which, so far as I know, there is no English term.] 172 Feelings of Gratitude, 8fc. [§ 05 as a matter of congratulation. This would be the case, if oppo- site feelings were excited and brought into play. Suppose, for example, somebody requires speedy assistance. Whoever serves him at once may be sure of his gratitude. But if the help only comes when by his own exertions he has pretty well extricated himself from his difficulties, this delay will chill his feelings as much as the gift warms them. If, in addition to this, he is driven to suppose that the gift was dictated by mere love of ostentation, the painful feeling thence produced will ex- ercise such a restrictive influence on the pleasure caused by the gift, that it would be impossible to talk of an honest feeling of gratitude any longer. ''He gives twice who gives quickly." Hence, we may understand why benefits openly conferred always involve something humiliating to the receiver. They cause a feeling of depression, and that so outweighs the plea- sure of the benefit as to rob it of all its delight. A sensitive inan therefore declines such public gifts, unless extreme need forces him to accept them. He confers the greatest benefit who confers it with most delicacy. The feeling of favours graciously conferred by a superior (and received) is allied to that of gratitude. It is always a composite feeling. Let us suppose ourselves as contrasted with God : this feeling involves, on the one side, the consciousness of His sublimity (greatness) and goodness ex- pressed in numerous benefits : on the other side, the conscious- ness of our pettiness and demerit. Now, if the greatness and goodness of God predominates in our thoughts, we shall feel our- selves powerfully raised : if, on the other hand, our own weak- ness is more emphatically presented, the vast distance between us and God, which then becomes clear to us, causes us to feel cast down and humiliated. Now, if we were dealing with men, we should find ourselves elevated, if the heneficence of the gra- cious donor were consciously and vividly contrasted with our humble position : but we should be annoyed if he treated us so as to remind us too forcibly of our inferiority, for we should then say (feel) that after all we are men as well as he, and not without value, and that no one has the right to place us lower § 6^.] Fjelings of Gratitude, Sfc. 173 than our own qualities put us^. Suffice it to say that, as in every feeling, so also in the complex feelings in question, the point prominent in consciousness is the object felt, the point thrown into the background is the foundation of the feeling, and thus at one time the pleasurable emotion of elevation, at another the painful one of depression, may predominate. Both emotions, however, must, if conscious together, restrict each other more or less. The feeling of Mortification is generally a simple one, con- sisting, on the one hand, in the consciousness of blame incurred, of rebuff, &c. ; and, on the other, in the consciousness of our innocence. In many cases, however, it is a complex feeling, implying, on the one hand, that we have been blamed and re- buked not altogether without deserving it; but, on the other, in the conviction that the degree and manner of the correction passed the proper bounds. Suppose, for instance, a man is not really a lazy fellow, but yet has not sent in his work when it was perfectly possible for him to have done so. He is then violently scolded in the presence of other people, and accused of being an idler. In this case, different unpleasurable feelings jar together (consciousness of exaggerated blame, the malicious joy of enemies now present, fear of the contempt of friends, &c.), and are compared with one's better feelings of oneself, feelings, however, not quite untroubled by a sense of half- guiltiness. The question is, to what consciousness turns with greatest strength, so that the consequence will be either a kind of anger with ourselves, or indignation will be excited, and both are often found together in the feeling of mortification. 66. Feelings of Sonour and Glory, A schoolboy has made arithmetic his favourite study, and has attained to great proficiency in it. The day of public examina- tion arrives, and as usual he answers the questions proposed to y How far this is modified when the person to whom the favour is shewn is a criminal, every one can easily determine for himself. 174 Feelings of Honour and Glory. [§ 66. him with great facility. It was plain that such dexterity caused pleasure to the numerous audience, but the boy's arithmetical powers gave him then a feeling of pleasure stronger than he had ever before experienced. Very naturally! Por before that the pleasure of cyphering stood quite alone in his soul, he was at best merely conscious of the gratification felt and expressed by his teacher. To-day he sees this pleasure diffused over many persons, and in think- ing of them he thinks of their pleasures as well, and conse- quently he gains more pleasure in proportion as the persons delighted by his calculating successes are more numerous. This gave him what we call the feeling of Honour. The greater the number of men by whom we think and feel our good qualities to be recognised in this manner, the stronger must the aggregate emotion naturally be which grows up in us in consequence, and thus is produced that higher degree of honour which is called Glory. Glory is felt by the brave warrior whose exploits are in all mouths, the noble defender of the people whom a whole nation reverences, the great savant by whose genius and writings everybody is fascinated, &c. The feelings of Honour and Glory, therefore, are those aggre- gates of feeling in which we represent to ourselves our own perfec- tions as simultaneously thought of and felt ly^ a large numler of other persons. If so, what must the feeling of Shame be ? § 67. Feelings of Lihing and Dislihe. "We meet with men who agree with us in valuing the same objects as we do, so that they harmonize with us in their feel- ings, impulses, views, habitudes, &c. Since like always attracts like, the views, feelings, impulses, &c., of others, which we have noticed in them and copied in ourselves, must strive to unite with ours, they will he attracted to one another because they harmonize. This is clearly manifested in §67.] Feelings of Lilcing and Dislike. 175 the wish to be externally connected with such persons, to shake hands, embrace them, kiss them ', &c. Thus the feeling oi Affection arises. It is rendered more vivid in consciousness, when side by side with it persons are thought of who are indifferent to us, or whom we positively dislike. As to its composition, it is an assemblage of individual pleasurable feelings which attract each other ; it is a liarmony of such feel- ings ; for the notions which we have of ourselves and of others, and which are constantly combining in different groups, consist- ing as they do of parts so unlike, cannot, properly speaking, fuse together. The external impulse just noticed, is also connected with this feeling. It is, therefore, a very complex emotion, and is sometimes called Friendship, sometimes Love *. Wc find affection amongst the professors of a religion, the members of a state, the scholars of a school, inhabitants of a village, &c. How far does it extend, and why ? It is ohvious from what we have said, when and why dislike^ hatred^ enmity, must he engendered instead of affection. " Love God above all things, and thy neighbour as thyself,** so runs the supreme law of Christian morals. It therefore establishes degrees of LovCy just as the supreme law of psychological (natural) morals, stated at p. 152, established a (more minute) gradation in our estimates of objects. * Lov- ing' and ' valuing,* however, are expressions meaning precisely the same thing, and we love not persons only, but also things. " Love God above all things," when translated into the language of psychology, means, let Him be your highest good, the object most valued and esteemed : " love thy neighbour as thyself,'* means, let him be as valuable to you, as you are to yourself. Now, as it is impossible to love either God or man truly, if we do not truly value the things which refer to both, it is clear that, in this * This external tendency towards union with another is but an expres- sion of what passes in the soul. For (paradoxical as it may sound to a tyro in psychology) if we were able to see immediately in the souls of friends and lovers the aggregates on which their friendship and love depends, we should find that they, too, were equally anxious to meet, equally appetent of each other ; only that all this implies no local movement, for in the soul there is no such thing as space. See BeneJce's treatise " Die neue Psycho- logie," p. 161 sqq. * On the difference between the two, [see the masterly discussion in Be^ieke's work just quoted, p. 145 sqq. 176 Feelings of Hope and Fear. [§ 68. Christian command, the correct estimation of things is tacitly required, and hence the farther conclusion, that the supreme law of morals dictated by psychology coincides exactly with that prescribed by Christianity. § 68. Feelings of Hope and Fear. Winter was at hand. Potatoes had turned out had: the harvest had been only middling : every week provisions were dearer : still, all were well at home, and there was yet a small nest-egg saved during the summer : besides, work was plentiful, wages good, and if the worst came to the worst, one of the cattle might without damage be sold for the household. Such were the feelings with which this family faced winter. Matters were different in the neighbour's house. They had no savings, no beast to sell, and their labour was not so well remunerated. Fortunately all were as yet healthy, but health is a precarious blessing. How, with what feelings, did these people face winter ? This much is clear : in the souls of loth families pleasuralle and painful emotions were intermixed. In the former case, they were able to say with tolerable cer- tainty that they had the means of staving off the threatened want, and so their unpleasant feelings were, on the whole, over- come by agreeable ones. In the latter, on the other hand, pain- ful feelings predominated, for their means were less, and want was far from being improbable. In the one case, then, there was considerable security against the future, in the other, great uncertainty. No wonder that their mixed emotions gave, in the former case, a feeling of Hope; in the latter, a feeling of Fear. These are the names given to the resulting feelings. One can see that these feelings are conterminous, for they depend on a plus or minus of the same factors, and may, there- fore, easily pass into one another. If, in hope, the means of warding off an evil grow less, it is transformed into fear ; fear, however, changes into hope if the means of defence increase. Consequently these feelings are frequently interchanged. If, on the contrary, in the first instance, the deamess of § 69.] On the Faculty of Feeling. 177 provisions and the winter vanished, the remaining relations must produce an absolutely pure feeling of Joy : and if, in the second instance, sickness were added to the want which was already great enough, a feeling of total Apathy^ or indeed of JDeapair^ would be engendered. Accordingly, Hope ascends into Joy, and Fear descends to Apathy and Despair. § 69. On the Faculty of Feeling *. It may be enough to say that the same sort of explanation as that already given may be applied to all our other feelings. We now ask, What is the Faculty of Feeling in the human soul ? We gave the name of Understanding to the totality of con- cepts existent in the soul : Judgment to the totality of judg- ments : Inferential Power to the totality of conclusions : Will to the totality of all particular ready-formed acts of willing : consequently the Faculty of Feeling is nothing more than the totality of all the feelings that arise in the soul^ and are per- manently existent in it^ and ready to he exerted. Since, however, fresh feelings may arise beside those which have been already formed, seeing that whenever psychical forms are present together in consciousness, their difference or interval is also present to consciousness along with them {='is felt), two kinds of faculties of feeling must be distinguished, the developed, and the undeveloped. What is meant is tbis. Feelings already existent and produced by the past connexion of their factors (§§ 47 and 57), are simply reproduced ; having been once made they do not require to be made over again : on the other hand, new ones arise only because their factors are present, but have not yet been connected. In the former case, therefore, feeling rests on a firmer basis than it does in the latter. A similar distinction holds also in reference to Understanding, Judgment, Inference, and WiU. (See §§21 and 42.) ^ l^Oefiihlsvermdffen]. 178 On the Faculty of Feeling. [§ 69. The souFs power of feeling consequently extends, generally^ as far as there is a possibility for different psychical forms to be present in consciousness together, whether those forms have been already fashioned into ready-made feelings, or whether they manifest themselves, for the first time, as contrasted with each other. If, however, these factors are not yet existent, or if, though existent, they cannot be present to consciousness together, it follows, necessarily, that Feeling is, to that extent, an im- possibility. This is obtrusively manifest in the case of one who is, as it is said, destitute of feeling, unfeeling. But can there really be a man who has no feeling ? It would be a serious mistake to believe so ; for very feeling people are unquestionably unfeeling in some relations. Take, for instance, a child who is delighted with the flowers scattered on its mother's coffin. Does that prove want of feeling? Obviously not; for whoever can expe- rience joy cannot be totally devoid of feeling. Conjure into the child's soul the same estimate of the deceased that has been formed in the heart of the elder sister or the father, and you will find it bend over that coffin with grief as genuine as theirs. Consequently, an unfeeling man is merely one who has not a sufficient number of ready-formed feelings, or one destitute of those factors which are required to produce fresh ones. A good many persons, too, are accounted unfeeling, because they are not so demonstrative as others are. The female sex, so ready to weep and laugh, appears to be more feeling than the male ; but, as a rule, their advantage over men is, that their psychical forms, possessing less firmness and strength, are more easily excited, whereas, in general, men's feelings are stronger and deeper, and, consequently, they are of a higher kind, than those of women «. *^ In proportion as a man can, and actually does, realize to himself another's feelings and wants, we ascribe to him a Seart ; and a good heart when these sympathetic feelings are connected with desires and acts tend- ing to that other's benefit. The mode in which such feelings are realized is this : along with the notions which we have formed of other persons, we §69.] On the Faculty of Feeling. 179 Does, then, the soul possess any special and innate faculty of feeling distinct from the rest of its powers ? Positively not. On the contrary, every developed power, as it is a power of forming notions and desires, so is it a power of feeling, and thus we find the question answered which was proposed at the end of § 43 : feelings are produced by the same powers which, at first, appeared in the shape of original powers, whence follows the irr "- fragable and most important proposition, that the developed human soul is a product of mere original powers, and of that which has affected them and been retained hy them — a proposition which, in the sequel, will be con- firmed by additional facts. The remark made in § 3 will now become intelligible : we there said that the child, apart from its original acts of sight, hearing, &c., would require for its subsequent activities "special powers, which it would be obliged gradually to acquire." Have we not proved that every psychical form which remains permanent in the shape of a notion, &c., desire, repugnance, inclination, &c., is a kind of faculty [Vermogengebilde] (for the most part of a very complicated description) ? and as all forms whatever are gene- rated out of our original powers, is it possible that the relatively small number of those original powers existent at birth should suffice for these purposes ? Whence, then, do we get the fresh original powers which must be in constant course of formation P The answer to thb question will be found in §§ 82 and 83. Only let it never be forgotten, that all onr notions, desires, feelings, volitions, &c., are forces, and individual forces, however complex they may be. Now, as all our original powers are what we, in common life, call facul- ties of sense, all the developments of the soul spring from our senses. But these powers are something totally different from our sense organs, which consist of bodilg powers, and are therefore of a material nature (compare §§ 2, 5, 10, 81). The former axe purely spiritual powers, in an elementary reproduce our own feelings, and co-ordinate them with such notions. The meaning of the term Temper [Gemiith], which is often used as synonymous with Heart (often as identical with the soul in general), will be explained presently. Man, therefore, does not possess a " heart " as something men- tally distinct, as a kind of special innate force in the soul ; a good " heart " is the sum total of sympathizing feelings. It stands on the same footing as the expression " mind," which is used either as completely synonymous w^ith " soul,'* or means the totality of intellectual forms, especially of the productive (compare § 10). On this latter point, see JBeneJce's " Lehrbuch der Psychologic," 3rd edit., § 160, and for the expression " Heart, '^ § 292. On " Character," compare the same work, §§ 153, 192, 232, and others. 180 On the Faculty of Feeling. [§69. shape, and they cannot, therefore, in their derelopment ever lead to mate- rialism, but to a constantly higher spiritualism. Now, as by " Sensationalism " (from the Latin word sensus = sense) is meant a psychological system, which, like that of BeneJce, deduces and ex- plains all psychical phenomena from the activities of the senses, people, from not distinguishing between bodily and spiritual powers of sense, have charged BeneTce's theory with materialism ; for sensationalism and mate- rialism are commonly held to be identical. This is a vast mistake. On the question see Dressler's work, " 1st BeneTce Materialist? Mn Beitrag zur Orientirung iiher BeneTce^s System der PsycJiologie, mit Bucksicht auf verschiedene Mwwurfe gegen dasselbe," &c. Berlin, published by Mittler and Son, 1862. The charge of materialism brought against the new psy- chology is here refuted so triumphantly, that no one but a malicious slan- derer would venture to repeat it. We must now give an answer to the important question so much debated in the present day. What is the " Temper" [Gemiith], and how ought it to be formed ? The temper is the easy excitability of internal emotions, not merely of a kindly, benevolent, but also of a melancholy, sullen, anxious nature, &c. It is not, therefore, a special innate power, but consists in single, and in- deed simple attitudes of soul (affective or emotional psychical forms, see p. 59), which have been left behind as traces by previous sensations of pleasure, pain, satiety, dislike, and therefore of experiences by which such sensations are produced (see § 50, at the end). Now, as everything be- comes, in the course of development, more and more rigid, it may be asked how the sensations, to which, collectively, we give the name of " temper," acquire their easy excitability ? Simply from the fact that they have not become so rigid and fixed as/orms consisting of many traces have ; because not all sensations fuse together in proportion to their similarities. A por- tion of them remains isolated, and, in their elementary condition, they are not combined into pleasurable or painful notions, as we have already ob- served at p. 129 ; out of a hundred sensations, for instance, ten or more have not been fused with the rest. In point of fact, the new sensations pro- duced day by day do not usually unite at once and firmly with their kin- dred forms already existent. It is, therefore, natural that the temper should have that shifting, fluent, indeterminate character that it has, because the elementary, whether produced by this or that mode of stimu- lation, requires only a small impulse in order to be instantly excited. It then bursts out into laughter or tears, as we find in light-hearted, sorrowr ful, anxious, &c., people. What temper is it we first clearly see in young §69.] On the Faculty of Feeling. 181 children before their development has proceeded very far : thejr are one moment merry, and the next cross. As yet they possess but few fixed psy- chical forms (consisting of many traces), and hence, so long as the mov- able elements are busy in such unstable regions, the sudden change of emotions is quite what we should expect. We see it, secondly, especially in the case of fear, which may be found not merely in children, but also in many adults. A firmly developed man feels little fear : he who bears about with him many unpleasant traces in the form of elementary sen- sations is the one who feels most fear j and they, like all other sensations, may continually arise afresh, for every day furnishes us with impressions for new sensations. Women, in particular, abound in such' elementary emotions, because in them the inferior tenacity of their original powers does not induce to the same extent the powerful attraction and fusion of what is homogeneous : and many women, therefore, remain all their life long mainly creatures of sentiment and temper, cheerful or timorous, often both at once. We see it, thirdly, in all those other cases where the clear understanding, the firm will, powerful feeling, are struck dumb by the violent excitation of our rudimentary powers, as we find, under circum- stances of great, exuberant joy, or violent anger, sudden terror, profound grief, &c. Between the filxed and the unfixed in the seal there is naturally no sharply-determined line of demarcation; but all that has been formed with some degree of strength, therefore all that does not remain in its original state of elementary fluidity, stands in man above the sphere of temper : and in particular, therefore, the pleasure or pain of a definitely developed desire or repugnancy, of feeling already formed, so likewise firm will, clear understanding, judgment, &c., &c. These latter forms cannot therefore be accounted to belong to the temper in the narrower and stricter sense of the word, — they belong to it only if it is understood in its wider or widest signification. Doubtless, pleasure and pain are mani- fested in them, and as the temper is characterized by * moods' the in- exact language of daily life considers both desire with its feeling of plea- sure, and repugnance with that of pain, and in particular /ee^ingf properly so called, as belonging to temper, and therefore it considers the latter to be what impels us to action. But temper, in its narrow and strict sense, is not the true source of our actions, any more than it is the true source of our notions properly so called, although an elementary kind of notion is of course always involved in it : for in feeling we must always feel something : but for the formation of true notions or for action, temper, which is always condemned to remain in the lowest stage of psychical development, is some- thing too immature, and hence the proposition holds good : the temper is neither of a practical nor of a theoretical nature. Of course, it always ac- companies our acts and thoughts, and may exercise on them a favourable 182 On the Faculty of Feeling. [§ 69. and also an unfavourable influence ; it may strengthen our practical eflbrts, it may keep notions in consciousness, but at the same time it may confuse and darken both, according as it is excited with more or less violence, and is then allowed to influence them. It ought never to be forgotten that the temper may modify all that has been stamped into a permanent shape, and accordingly there may be a thought, a judgment, an estimation, an action, in which temper plays a considerable part. In particular, temper is quickly operative in cases of immediate intuition. It is well known that external impressions are not unfrequently viewed differently than they would be by firmly -developed psychical forms, if those impressions had not been directly encountered by particular emotions, by which they are instantly taken pos- session of, and invested with their own peculiar colours. When a man's temper chances to be a little ruffled, i.e. if elementary traces of displeasure (ill-temper) are excited in large numbers, he will receive a friend, or a re- quest, quite differently from what he would if he had been excited by them directly in his own proper character as a practical and rational agent. Impressions then play on the elementary region of the soul as if on a musical instrument, but the tones produced depend on the qualities of the instru- ment (on its good or bad state of tune). From this one can see at once that there is an important difference between temper and sensation, although temper is produced by previous sensations, and that consequently it is more nearly allied to sensation than other psychical forms are, e.g. than un- derstanding is. Temper is the state of our internal disposition, and there- fore a condition already formed which merely requires to be reproduced ; whereas thought and action cannot be effected by mere reproduction, but consist more or less in new productions, in transformations of what is re- produced. One whose temper only is excited, yields himself almost passively to his emotions ; at the highest he is pleased with ' good-natured chatter,' singing, jumping, laughing; or, on the other side, in complaints, sighs, tears, ac- cording as the elementary traces of pleasure or pain give him occasion : he neither reasons, nor wills, nor makes. How temper is to be produced and trained is a matter which we cannot here discuss ; fortunately there are works in which all this is clearly done. See in Beneke's " Archiv f iir die pragmatische Psychologic," vol. iii. p. 36, sqq., the essay entitled, " Das menschliche Gemiith. Seine Bildungsform, Stellung, TJmfang, Bedeutung ; und in welchem Masse und in welcTier Weiss man dasselbe hilden soil." The same subject is treated of with greater de- tail, and in a more popular manner, in an essay by Dressier, " uber Gemuths- Uldung" in Biesterweg's " Padagogisches Jahrbuch auf 1857," p. 273 sqq. Trainers of temper, who in modern times have put forth so many perverted views on the subject, may here learn enough truth for their purpose, if they are only willing to open their eyes. Temper can neither be produced nor § 70'] Recapitulation, 183 trained by instruction, which is, in fact, almost incapable of conveying ex- ternal notions and external aptitudes ; it can be obtained and trained only by experience of life, only by what causes joy and sorrow ; and the true place, therefore, for its education is, not the school, but the family where joy and sorrow are to be felt, felt in common with others, and with suffi- cient frequency. True it is, that by clear notions the soul gains steadiness in its emotions, but such moods belong only very distantly to temper ; and joy and sorrow are not so much at home in the school as they are in the family, and in public life. It is a particularly perverse view when the correct general and common culture of a human being is regarded as in the main the training of temper, and so is allowed to curtail the cultivation of the understanding. In order to have a proper sense of things, and to act rightly, man requires much more than mere temper, which, in its most perfect shape, always remains something blind, something capricious and uncertain in its action. See these hints carried out in detail in the two treatises above mentioned. § 70. Recapitulation. I. The Original Powers of the Soul. Fresh powers are being perpetually formed in the Soul. If they are decidedly strong^ tenacious, and sensitive^ the feelings of the Sublime are more easily produced ; if, on the contrary, their vivacity predominates, the feelings of the Agreeable are sooner formed. A happy mixture of all three qualities is fa- vourable to the feelings of the Beautiful (§ 52). The Beautiful and Sublime require, however, in addition, an interpretation de- rived from what the soul already possesses ; this must answer to the relative impressions (§ 53), and in all three cases the proper degree of stimulation must not be wanting. Again, the stronger and more tenacious the powers are, the sooner does there arise the feeling of the strength of particular psychical forms ; in other words, the feeling that they consist of many traces (why ? § 54). In proportion to this strength, all notional forms are attended by the feelings of clearness or ol- acurity (§ 55), and all forms oi pleasure (or dislike) and effort likewise acquire their very peculiar character as feelings. We feel the stronger pleasure as of higher value (§ 56), and the stronger desire as a stronger effort (§ 60). 184 Recapitulation, [§ 70. Now as the original powers, in point of tenacity and strength, are arranged in all men in a similar series, and the stimulants acting on them are always of a like nature, since moreover the law that similar traces coalesce is everywhere the same, it fol- lows naturally that objects which stimulate the higher senses pleasurably, or the reverse, must be felt to be higher goods or evils than those objects which affect the lower senses ; supposing always that, while the factors remain similar, there is a like number of traces accumulated pari passu in the products. In this fact is founded the universally valid (and therefore) true estimate of objects, the moral rule (§ 58), for Kke causes always produce like effects ; and hence, in this case, produce a similar gradation of goods and evils, which can only be disturbed by excess or defect on the part of the impressions. If the powers are not produced in their usual strength and tenacity, e.g. in sickness like stimulants do not produce the same feeling (§ 51). II. The Stimulants of the External World. According to their quantity or their relations to the original powers, they cause either a feeling of dissatisfaction, or of plea- sure, or of satiety, or of pain : m brief feelings of pleasure or dislike (§ 50). What are Sensations (§ 50) ? In like manner, a peculiar relation of stimulant to the original powers causes the feelings of the Agreeable, Sublime, and Beau- tiful (§ 52), all of which arise from the third kind of relation between the two. III. The Fundamental Laws prevalent in the Soul. The first, according to which external impressions are received , by the original powers, and permanently exist in them, is the origin j! of feelings in general ; for since a feeling is only the conscious- ^ ness of the difference or interval between two or more psychical forms (§§ 45, 46, 47), there could naturally be no consciousness of such difference, and therefore no feeling, if particular psy- chical forms, with the special emotions produced by them, had not previously arisen, and then been preserved as peculiar traces § 70-] Recapitulation. \^AUFGR^ft?-l:y (§ 50). But as everything which happens in the soul withlTny approach to perfection remains, with all its peculiarities, in the shape of a trace, it is easy to account for the large extent y as well as the infinite complexity and multiplicity, of the feelings ; for one and the same psychical form may be manifested at one time as one feeling, at another as a different one, according as it co- exists in consciousness along with this or that psychical form (§§48 and 51). What is freshness of feeling? (§ 48.) The second fundamental law, according to which all that is similar fuses into one whole, in consequence of mutual attraction, continues the edifice commenced by the first. It is thus that the feeling of the strength of particular psychi- cal forms is produced which is manifested in notions, as clearness, obscurity, or want of clearness ; according as many or few simi- larities meet together, or as like and unlike have been inter- mixed (§§ 54 and 55). The greater the number of traces from which particular forms of pleasure or dislike have arisen in the soul, the greater is the value or worthlessness of the objects by which they were pro- duced. In case the accimiulation of traces has been too great, a deviation is easily caused from that (universally valid) order of goods and evils, which, from consisting of the same factors, is necessarily the same for all mankind. This is that false estimate of things which often prevails, in a special manner, among the forms of the lower senses (§ 59). In like manner, this law leads to an increase in the strength of desires and repugnancies (§ 60). "Where they are too strong in relation to the true estimate of objects, we call them iVwwo- rality, or corrupt will (§ 61). This normal or immoderate strength in our forms of pleasure, dislike, or effort, is always manifested by immediate feelings. The strength of an estimate commensurate to the moral rule is manifested as the feeling of Duty, which is called Conscience (§ 62), when we feel that duty in reference to our own actions. What is a good, what an evil conscience .^ (§ 62.) When the moral (morally good) is stronger than anything 186 Recapitulation, [§ 70. else in the soul it is called Moral Freedom, or a morally free will; and this freedom increases exactly as the morally good grows stronger (§ St,). Human action never springs out of mere notions, but exclusively from estimates of value (§ 62,). "When several similar feelings are conscious together they strengthen each other according to their resemblance (§ 64). It is thus that the feelings of Gratitude^ of Favor conferred, of Mortification, of Honour, of Glory, of Affection and Dislike are produced (§§ 65, 66, 67). Dissimilar feelings, on the contrary, when present together, impair or check each other's strength (§ 64), as is very clearly shewn in the case of the closely allied feelings of Hope and Fear (§ 68). The third fundamental law, according to which a portion of the stimulant always disappears from the developed original power (not from the soul), is at once the foundation of Immorality and of Moral Freedom ^ because it is the cause of Desires (§ 25). Lastly, the fourth fundamental law, according to which the movable elements during our waking moments are perpetually flow- ing over, or are transferred from one Jj^ tychical foi m to another, causes the constant alternation of consciousness in the human soul, and is, in conjunction with the first law, the second origi- nating cause of the Peelings in general ; for the different psy- chical forms must be conscious either together or in immediate succession, before we can be aware of their differences or intervals. So far as this law shews itself active in the soul, so far do Feel- ings also arise ; and, in so far as these movable elements are de- posited on psychical forms, often excited together in such a man- ner that they are by them permanently connected (transformed into a group) to that extent, this law leads to the formation of ready-made feelings, which continue in the soul so long as their factors remain united (§§47 and 69). What is the Faculty of Feeling, and how far does it extend ? (§ 69.) The feelings, like all else that we have described, pre- suppose nothing but original powers, which are, therefore, powers of feeling, as well as of forming notions and desires (§ 69). Feeling is preceded by a certain tone and temper on the part of the original poweis produced in and along with the impressions § 70.] Recapitulation, 187 operating on them, so that in every sensation (emotion) so aris- ing two kinds of effects are simultaneously produced : an im- pression or copy of the objective (of the object), and a sort of tone or emotion on the part of the subjective (of the power) (§§ 45 and 50). What is understood hj Seartf Temper^ and Mind? (§ 69, in the note.) For further details on Temper see the conclusion of § 69. SUPPLEMENTAEY REMARKS AND FUETHER DETAILS. § 71. Consciousness and Excitalility. ( What is Attention ?) l^OKE of us know anything whatever about the first sensations which were produced in our souls ; and every new-born child may serve to prove to us that it also is destitute of any con- sciousness either of its( If or of its surroundings. ConsciousnesSy therefore^ does not exist from the first in any soul ; it must come into existence gradually. In what manner and hy what means is it produced ? By the union of external stimulants with our original powers, as we have aready seen in § 10. Eeside that, we there learnt, that consciousness gradually attains to clearness^ from the fact that every act of sensation leaves a trace behind it, and that similar traces coalesce into one whole. Ko mental form attains to full clear consciousness, unless similar traces are multiplied and accumulated. Hence it follows, that in the yeiy first sensation, i.e. satisfac- tion of an original power by a stimulant, there must be involved the heginning of the process by which that form afterwards attains to full consciousness, even though this consciousness exist in the very simplest form and faintest degree — so faint, that it appears to be almost non-existent. Unless a minimum of consciousness were implied in the first sensation, and unless it remained permanently attached to the trace left by it, where could the full consciousness implied in a form resulting from many traces come from? In the soul, as elsewhere, ex nihilo nihil fit, and the second sensation could involve no consciousness if it was impossible for \hQ first to do so. § 7T.] Consciomness and Excitahility. 189 This fact may be illustrated by the following example, de- rived from the material worid. A minute grain of sand laid upon the hand produces no appreciable sensation of weight, and therefore seems to be imponderable; a million of such grains produce a very decided pressure. How could this be possible unless every single grain possessed a minimum of weight ? The whimpering of a new-bom babe at any painful sensation shews that an obscure consciousness is already germinating in it. Let us turn our attention for a moment to brutes. The same stimulants that affect men affect them, and yet they never attain in any of their psychical forms (the nobler brutes, especially those that have been trained, like dogs, horses, &c., are by no means deficient in them) to human clearness of consciousness. From this it unquestionably follows, that the origin of conscious- ness does not depend on any peculiarity in the stimulants : it must rather be sought for in some special quality of the original powers (elementary powers). This, as we have already seen in §§ 7 and 8, is the higher strength and tenacity of man's original powers, in consequence of which stimulants are more perfectly appropriated and retained^ and this tenacity implies also the power of becoming conscious. As the steel involves the possi- bility of sparks, which, however, can only be actually elicited by contact with the flint, so also this potential consciousness is elevated to actual consciousness by and through stimulants. This power of becoming conscious constitutes the peculiar difference between the brute and the human soul : both are originally, or at birth, distinct, not in kindy but only in degree (we are comparing here only the nobler brutes) ; but that differ- ence of degree must very soon be transformed into a difference of hind, because the human soul necessarily advances, and is ahle to advance infinitely, whereas the brute soul is absolutely inca- pable of doing so. Observation of ourselves will tell us how much progress it is possible for the higher species of animals to make, and will enable us to form a tolerably close notion of their feel- ings ; for our original powers are not all endowed with the same degree of tenacity, that property varying from that of sight, where it is strongest, down to the vital powers, where it is 190 Consciousness and Excitability. [§ 7i- weakest (compare § 8), the consequence of which, is, that even we never attain to full clearness of consciousness in the lower senses. It is prohable that brutes, in their strongest powers, arrive at about the same degree of consciousness that we do in our lower senses *. But even those forms which are richest in traces do not con- tinue in permanent and unbroken consciousness: consciousness alternates with unconsciousness — at this moment they are con- scious, then unconscious, and the next they become conscious afresh, and so on. In short : in the developed soul there is a per- petual alternation of consciousness and unconsciousness. Therefore, there is such a thing as a recurring consciousness, which must be different in hind from that which comes into existence at first, and with tedious slowness. What is the peculiar difference be- tween them ? It is obvious, that the consciousness which first arises is the opposite of the as yet unconscious^ while recurrent consciousness is merely opposed to the actually unexcited. If a form is to have that clearness, which we briefly call consciousness, it must be based on many traces. This kind of consciousness, however, vanishes the moment those traces pass from the excited to the unexcited and passive state, it lasts only as long as their excitation That other species, however, which springs out of the absolute negation of consciousness as yet \_aus dem Noch-ga/r-nicht-hewusst- gewesen-sein'] is a something which only gradually developes — it is not a something which has been merely arrested for want of excitation ; and, consequently, we cannot affirm of it that it now manifests itself, and again ceases to do so. To be able to do that it must first exist, but the kind of consciousness now al- luded to is a germinating consciousness, a consciousness in bud. * That, however, the " Spirituality,'* the " Spirit,** or Mind of man's soul, is nothing more than that higher strength and tenacity of his original powers (especially those of the nobler senses), which renders clear con- sciousness possible, is shewn above, § lo, and below, § 79* In the lower senses, there is often a stronger momentary consciousness than exists in the higher, but it cannot maintain itself, and therefore cannot be reproduced. §71.] Conaciotimess and Excitahility. 191 It is natural, then, that one who is unacquainted, for instance, with the letters of the Greek alphabet should be destitute of any consciousness of them. Had he learnt them, we might and must say tbat he had a consciousness of them, even when he is not thinking of them, for then they would be merely unexcited, or in a purely latent condition. In this way we all have a con- sciousness of our dwelling-place, of our name, of our furniture, &c., &c., even when they are absent from our thoughts; for the notions of them exist in our soul as the result or complexus of numerous traces. As the warmth of our body is by excite- ment (exercise) released from its bound or latent condition, not created by it (for it is already there, and only a corpse is de- prived of it), so, also, the recurrent consciousness in our mental forms is not created by excitation, it is already existent in a bound condition, and it only requires excitement to make its actual appearance, and to be released from its fetters. Conse- quently, psychical forms are capable of becoming conscious in a totally different and far higher sense of the word than is appli- cable to the as yet undeveloped original powers : the former carry with them an already formed consciousness, the latter an un- formed — a something which is a mere germ of consciousness one day to be actiiaKzed. ^citation, consequently, is the indispensable condition, with- out fulfilling which, forms, however rich they may be in traces, must remain unconscious — so runs the psychical law here opera- tive. "When, therefore, only a portion of the traces consti- tuting a form, and not the whole of them, are excited, the inten- sity of the consciousness of that form is proportionate to the actual number of traces so excited **. The as yet undeveloped elemen- *» This determines the degree of what is called Attention. We are more attentive when, along with a present impression, the traces previously ac- quired, and of like kind with it, are excited in larger numbers; we are less attentive when less of them are so aroused. To objects for which we do not possess any traces we can naturally shew no attention, e.g. for a lan- guage unknown to us : in such a case the impressions are apprehended by mere void original powers along with which, of course, similar sounds in our mother tongue may be excited, but they are incapable of giving us any 192 Consciousness and Excitalility. [§ 7^- tary powers, on tlie other hand, cannot be so vividly excited : they never yield consciousness, as may be seen from the fact that none of us have any consciousness of those powers which we employ as movable elements : the new-born child proves this by the gradual evolution of his consciousness from its ger- minal condition. "We already know, from §§12 and 13, the cause of this con- stant alternation of consciousness and unconsciousness, in other words of excitation, and the reverse. "We there found that if a conscious psychical form is to become unconscious, it must either lose a portion of its stimulant, or of the void unemployed powers which attached themselves {flowed over) to it. By this separation it ceases to be excited, and consequently loses its consciousness ". Hence, we necessarily infer that if it is again to attain to consciousness this loss must be somehow or other repaired. That loss is made good either, 1°. by external stimulants (§ 12), or 2". by internal stimulants (§ 13), or 3^. by void un- loyed original 'powers (§ 13). "When I unexpectedly hear comprehension of the foreign language, because the sounds of the latter are not yet associated with the objects which they represent (compare pp. 99 and 100). In like manner, if we have sufficient traces within for com- prehending any object, but they are not excited because too many other forms are aroused, so that the exciting elements do not reach them, we shall be completely unable to attend to it. Consequently, attention is only intense when the soul is free from excitation of a different kind, and when the traces on which attention depends do not take up the impressions in a mere passive way, but actively (in an already excited condition) meet them, and are, therefore, on the looJc out for them. •^ The old psychology seems to have thought that the process of becom- ing conscious required an explanation, but not that of ceasing to be so : accordingly it assumes as the cause of the former a power of Recollection, but is completely silent as to the reason of the latter. And yet the ques- tion why what we were once conscious of should disappear, whether for a shorter or longer period, and how it comes about, is to the full as im- portant as the question how the unconscious returns to consciousness. Moreover, Recollection is a different thing from becoming conscious. (See § 75-) §71.] Con8ciomne88 and Excitability. 193 the name of an old acquaintance, the notion of him rises into consciousness, excited by external stimulants : when I think first thing in the morning, before external stimulants remind me of it, of that which occupied me yesterday, that excitation is produced by internal elements, and, therefore, partly by those mentioned under '^o. 2, partly by those under ITo. 3. It has already been explained, in §§ 30 and 31, that the two latter classes are called movable elements. So long as the supply of them lasts they keep passing from form to form, and are as efiective in producing that alternation of consciousness and un- consciousness, which continues every moment of our waking life as the external stimulants themselves. During profound sleep they are necessarily at rest, because, if not then entirely absent, yet they exist only in very small numbers, and because sleep deprives them of their peculiar vivacity ; for their normal ex- citation implies waking, unlocked senses, which are, and must be affected before the soul can be definitely aroused to action. All this, however, requires further examination, for which see the following §. One remark, however, may be made before passing to it. Where there are no forms excited, there there is no consciousness in our soul. On a superficial examination it may perhaps seem that conscious- ness is a completely universal condition of soul, i.e. a condition which be- longs to the developed soul in general, and not one connected merely with the individual forms in it. Thus, for instance, a man who awakes in the morning from a deep sleep may suppose that at waking he has passed into a state exactly as general as the unconsciousness of sleep was a completely general condition. How is this illusion to be explained ? Simply from the fact that our psychical forms are excited one after the other without cessation, and without any gaps. Let there be only short pauses between them, and the appearance of universality on the part of consciousness vanishes. Reflect, too, that to the universality of the psy- chical condition which we usually call sleep, there is really no such wide step as there seems to be when it is viewed from our waking condition. In the waking state, it is only an extremely small portion of our soul that is alternately really awake, i.e. conscious ; by far the larger part of it sleeps continuously, and for the production o( perfect sleep all that is required is that the little which was awake should become unconscious. Hence, the O 194 Involuntarij and Voluntary Rise of Consciousness. [§72. great fulness of consciousness in which we find ourselves in the morning with our first waking notions, proves how uncommonly abundant the traces of our psychical forms must be. If you observe a child of two or three months old, you will perceive an important difierence between its waking existence and that of an adult. Moreover, everybody who accurately ob- serves himself, may occasionally be aware of actual stoppages in the current of consciousness, and in many conditions (e.g. after great exertion, in many maladies, in depressing emotions, &c.,) such cases are frequent. § 72. Involuntary and Voluntary Rise of Consciousness. Certainty and Uncertainty therein. a. I take a walk, not for the purpose of meditation, but to refresh myself: yet involuntarily I think on one thing and an- other, and am incited to do so not by anything external, hut purely from within. All of a sudden a hare crosses my path ; can I avoid thinking of it ? Without that external occasion, probably anything rather than the notion of a hare would have risen into consciousness. h. I want to remember somebody's name, a song, an event, &c., and I succeed with greater or less celerity. (Compare p. 81.) Everybody calls the two modes of becoming conscious, men- tioned under a., involuntary, because they follow purely without our will. It very often happens that we become con- scious in this way directly against our will, as e.g. when we wish to think quietly over some subject, and a noise, music, or some internal uneasiness, &c., excites ideas which prevent us from doing so. The second mode of becoming conscious (h), on the other hand, all call voluntary because it is caused by our will (§ 42). What is the difference between the two ? This we are already acquainted with from §§ 12, 13, and 21. Before I thought of the hare, internal stimulants were exciting my notions (thoughts), until the external stimulant of the hare affected me, and brought the notion of it into consciousness. In the second case, however, these external stimulants were §72.] Involuntary and Voluntary Rise of Consciousness. 195 tl e very thing absent, otherwise I should not have needed to lethinh myself of the name (song, or event, &c.) If, then, what is willed or desired also becomes conscious, there must be void original powers to impart to it fresh excitement (compare the examples in §§ 21 and 31), and, as a matter of fact, these powers are the main constituents of every volitional act (compare §§25, 40, 41), i.e. of that from which it here follows that the name (song, or event) becomes conscious. So, then, involuntary consciousness is produced when ex- ternal or internal stimulants excite unconscious psychical forms into consciousness ; voluntary ^ on the other hand, when void original powers do so. The ordinary intermediate course of our thoughts, which is half voluntary, half involuntary, is caused by a mixture of both kinds of elements. For there is no exclusive opposition between the processes of becoming conscious voluntarily or involuntarily ; every psychical form may become conscious, sometimes in the one way, sometimes in the other, and hence they may be ex- cited in both ways at once. Very naturally! for as the mov- able elements, original powers as well as stimulants, may attach themselves indifferently to all forms, so they may be indifferently transplanted from any; as, on the other side, it is natural again that forms in which the developed powers predominate {appetencies) should transfer more original powers, and on the other hand that those in which appropriated sti- mulants predominate {notions, ideas,) should transmit a larger quantity of general stimulants, because the attraction of simi- lars prevalent in every form has become connected with such movable elements as correspond to its more important con- stituents (compare § 31). Only let it not be forgotten that no transferred element requires any space to move in, because no local extension is required for any psychical processes — a main reason why, as people say, * we are unaware' of this trans- ference (see p. 81), i.e. we are unaware of any local process or change. Compare pp. 80 and 89. But why is it that external stimulants are certain, internal stimulants and void original powers more or less uncertain, to 196 Involuntary and Voluntary Rise of Consciousness. [§72. awaken consciousness? This question, already touched on in § 13, may be easily answered thus : Internal stimulants and void original powers suit, in the main, all traces, because they are universal, general elements, which have as yet received no special stamp (have not been definitely modified), or have lost it again when they released their hold over the traces and again became movable. The external stimulants, however, which e.g. are contained in the word Sand, will not fit on to the traces of the words, Face^ Arm, JEye, Sfc., the latter sound quite differently. Just so the light-stimulants of Hed, Angular, &c., are completely different from the traces left in me by the light-stimulants of Green, Eound, &c., and so on through the whole class of exterior stimulants. Among these there are but few that are quite universal and indeterminate, and hence it is natural that since the definitely similar attracts its like, the process of becoming conscious must in this case take place with more certainty ; whilst the universal can only arouse this or that form preca- riously, because it is almost indifferent to any Traces, and is therefore not exclusively suitable to this or that particular one. When external stimulants are given in an indeterminate manner, e.g. in a sound, cry, &c., they only determine consciousness in an uncertain and indefinite manner. The moment a definite excitation is effected by some definite external stimulant, other forms are excited through the medium of the internal, movable elements, but this effect is more or less uncertain. The follow- ing §§, however, will serve to shew that notwithstanding this, these movable elements are subject to a stringent law, and that they do not arouse consciousness at haphazard, but that the constant change from consciousness to unconsciousness, and the reverse, is governed by this law. § 73. Direction followed in the Process of hecoming Conscious. I am convinced that when I excite the notion of 'Hunter' in any one's consciousness he will also think of * Gun.* A wild §73'] Direction followed ly ConsmmneBB, 197 Indian, removed from all contact with civilized nations, would think of bow and arrow, and lasso "^. If I mention the name * Joseph' to any one acquainted with Bible history, he will think of his father Jacob, of Benjamin, of Egypt, &c. ; while one ignorant of it might perhaps think of his relation * Joseph,' or of somebody in his neighbourhood having that name. If I mention the capital of Bavaria, * Munich,' to a man of taste, he will certainly be reminded of the treasures of art existing there : but the word wiU most likely only call up the notion * good beer' in one who is fond of that. The word 'Elbe* leads Bohemians to think of Bohemians, Saxons of Saxons, Prussians of Prussians, while it leads natives of Hamburg most probably to think directly of the sea. * Hamburg!' In the year 1842, when this word was men- tioned, everybody certainly thought of * great fire :' at present, perhaps, it might suggest 'many ships,' at least, it does in my case: and a merchant who has commercial relations with it, will infallibly think of his house of business, &c., &c. Hence we see that in hecoming consciotis, different people start- ing from the same ideas or notions, proceed in completely different directions. "What, it may be asked, is the rule by which this apparently indeterminate direction is governed? Let us ex- amine the preceding examples a little more attentively. Why do we directly think of ' gun' when the notion * hunter' is called up ? Because we originally perceived hunter and gun together, and have constantly thought of them together. Why does the Indian think of bow, arrow, and lasso.'' Because they always attained to consciousness together in his soul. So in all the other instances. Now we know from § 38 tliat groups and series of the most varied psychical forms (notions, desires, and feelings) are excited into consciousness either together or in immediate succession hy movable elements ; and they a/re not merely permeated hy the latter, ^ A kind of big whip, consisting of a handle with a long leathern strap, famished at the extreme end with a ball. Buffaloes, wild horses, &c., are caught with it. 198 Direction followed ly Consciousness. [§73* lut also connected hy them into a whole ; for a part of these mov- able elements become firmly attached to these forms, and as it were cement them to one another: this (quasi net-like) union becomes more firm,, intimate, the oftener those different psychical forms are excited into consciousness in the same grouping or in the same con- secution, so that we may be sure that the whole group or series will become conscious the moment any member of it does so. All depends, therefore, on this one circumstance, how often different psychical forms have heen simultaneously conscious, that is, how intimate the connection between them has been ren- dered by the fixing of movable elements. Hence, the reason why, in the year 1842, the thought of 'Hamburg* was certain to suggest * great conflagration,' was because, at that time, both notions were often thought of together, and hence their union was very intimate. A good many years, however, have passed since then. Even before the fire, as well as after it, we had very often thought of ' Hamburg ' in connection with * many ships, harbours,' so that the latter association is on the whole a firmer and more constant one than the former, which was swiftly and strongly formed ; and it has consequently again be- come the usual one. I can very well remember how, even in 1842, the notion of Hamburg used constantly to call up that of ' ships' in me ; only it lost a good deal of its old force, be- cause the notion of ' awful conflagration' was at that time thrust so forcibly upon me. In the mind of a merchant connected with Hamburg it is certain that at that time the notions ' Tire,* * House of Business,' ' Loss,' &c., contended with all kinds of leeling for the mastery, until at last more trustworthy and as- suring intelligence from that place caused Fire, Loss, &c,, to be forgotten, and left only the notions * Hamburg, and House' of Business ' to remain in intimate and enduring connection. Hence we arrive at this very simple Law : the excitement pro- ceeds from a conscious psychical form immediately to that other which no^A^ is most intimately connected with the former, or is one (united) with it. But what excites, what causes consciousness? "We need not repeat the question again, but may at once say: §73-] Direction followed ly Consciomness. 199 The movable elements are always transferred from any psychical form ly preference to that which is most intimately connected with it, or is one with it. Hence, in the native of Dresden the notion * country* imme- diately suggests the environs of Dresden, and not those of the Breslau district: hence a soap-boiler, when he thinks of ' Soap,' is put in mind at once of tallow, ashes, boiler, &c., whereas a washerwoman thinks of dirty linen, and so on. Anyone may add examples for himself. Those forms are most intimately connected (united) in our soul which have not merely frequently co-existed in conscious- ness (at an earlier period), but which, besides that, are con- structed out of the same elements, e.g. the concepts, *Tree,' 'House,' &c., consist of the same elements as the individual trees and houses that we have seen, to the exclusion merely of dissimilar elements of intuition : and the same holds of higher concepts in relation to lower ones (see §§ 15 — 17). Is it as- tonishing, then, that along with an intuition the homogeneous concept corresponding to it starts involuntarily into conscious- ness, and along with a lower concept the higher concept of like kind with it, and that in consequence we are, so to say, everlast- ingly forming judgments ? (§ 18.) The number of judgments which we express in words is very small, yet the process of judging is constantly going on in the soul in proportion as simi- laiities have been intimately connected together by the ap- propriation of movable elements, and are now usually excited together. Compare § 38. One other remark may be added. I said above, that in 1842, the notion of 'Hamburg,' though it suggested ' Fire,' was yet constantly associated with that of *many ships,' but that the latter was at that time less strongly suggested, and in the merchant there can be no doubt that the notions of 'House of Business,' 'Loss,' &c., rose into conscious- ness in different degrees of force along with those of ' Conflagra- tion,' ' Ships.' If I remind any one acquainted with history of the Seven Years' War, the notion of 'Frederick IV will, to a certainty, be in 200 Direction followed hy Consciousness. [§ 73. a moment associated with a number of others, as Ziethen, Keith, the Surprise at SochUrch, Daun, &c. ; but it is also certain that all these notions are not equally vivid, some are more, some less fully present to consciousness, whilst others are barely excited at all, forming by their semi- obscurity the extreme horizon, as it were, the limit between consciousness and its total absence. Hence, the movable elements, as it seems, are not transferred in their whole fulness to the individual psychical form which is most intimately connected with (or one with) that form from which the transference is made : no ! the movable elements rather flow towards all the psychical forms connected with it (the waking notion), lut in a higher or lower degree proportionate to the closer or looser connection subsisting between them. Compare % 2>2>' Thus may be explained the fact that some psychical forms excite a good many others into consciousness, whilst others only excite a few : it all depends on whether they were formerly connected with many or few other psychical forms : and hence it is comprehensible that the intensity of their consciousness is very diverse, varying according as the movable elements are transferred to them in a greater or less quantity, which trans- mission itself depends on the closer or looser connection existing between them, and thus a larger or smaller number of traces in the notions affected are excited. Compare p. 191. When the movable elements are concentrated on a few forms, the latter are naturally excited and rendered conscious with ex- traordinary strength, whereas we find ourselves in a condition of distraction or confusion when those elements are diffused over too many psychical forms. As this renders attention to the objects surrounding and affecting us impossible, it follows that attention must be absent where the forms are either not excited at all, or too partially, so that the homogeneous impression which should be rendered conscious and received by them is only able to turn to a void original power, and must consequently remain an un- conscious, or, at best, an obscure sensation. See the remark in p. 191. If, then, these movable elements are, as it is abundantly clear they are, the exciting causes, why do they not excite all our psychical forms at §73-] Direction followed ly Con8cioume88, 201 once ; why is it that they at the most only excite a few at the same time ; why in the majority of cases do they only excite these forms in succession, 80 that the earlier members of the series must sink again into unconscious- ness ? Let any one try to repeat a poem, so as to be conscious of the first words and notions of it when he arrives at the last, and he will find that he is never able to do so. Why, then, do these exciting elements leave us in the lurch, and not enable us to retain continuously that which was first conscious ? Because (fortunately) there are only a moderate quantum of them, and there are, therefore, not enough of them to serve all the forms and their traces which we possess in such abundance (see p. 76). Accordingly, when they have done duty in one region of the soul they retire, and thus it is un- avoidable that that which was this moment conscious should lose its ex- citability in favour of that which is afterwards to become so. And what an eloquent proof this is of the Creator's wisdom ! If our internal posses- sions were so extensively excited, a confusion must ensue, which would render consciousness rather a curse than a blessing. Besides this, there are three causes why the consciousness of these forms, even in the presence of a sufficient number of exciting elements, must occa- sionally remain more or less weak, so weak, that for a time it is hardly dis- tinguishable from unconsciousness. In the first place, there is the partial opposition of forms, the effect of which is that they mutually obscure each other when simultaneously excited (see p. 69), because full clearness of con- sciousness pre-supposes similarity (similar elements or constituent parts), (see § 55). In the next place, a second cause is very often the great num- ber of reproduced groups and series, in consequence of which the movable elements, as has already been observed, are so diffused, that none of them can attain to full consciousness ; and, thirdly, the same effect may be pro- duced by what frequently occurs, viz., the quickness with which the exci- tation takes place, which does not permit any sufficient connection to be formed between the movable element and the traces. These three causes serve to explain why it is that extensive excitement may occur in the soul, and yet that it may not manifest itself in consciousness, or that, at best, only the last member or step becomes conscious. Think of the dexterity of a pianoforte player, of a rapid and practised writer, a well- trained reader, &c. If the reader were obliged to bring each letter and each sound into such full consciousness, as one who is learning his A B C is compelled to do, what wearisome tediousness would be the consequence ! Action in which the final step only is apparent to consciousness in the way described, we call ' Tact,' (practical tact, delicate critical tact, &c.) 202 Laws of Association. [§ 74. § 74. The Explanation of these Phenomena according to the Old Psychology. Involuntary Suggestions. The old psychology enunciates different laws which regulate the constant alternation between consciousness and unconscious- ness : and yet it falls into inconsistencies. Sometimes these phenomena are distributed under several laws, sometimes an attempt is made to explain them from as few as possible. I proceed to detail them. The different psychical forms are said to be aroused i". According to the law of Simultaneity : for what we have seen, heard, &c., together, that we are again conscious of toge- ther. Quite right, but — why ? 2°. According to the law of Succession : for what we have per- ceived as immediately consecutive, we reproduce in consciousness in a like order. True ! but — why ? 3°. According to the law of Similarity : for very often forms arouse others resembling them. True again ! but — why ? 4°. According to the law of Contrast : for black frequently suggests white. Eight again ! but — why ? 5°. According to the law of Locality : for when we think of the church, we usually think of the churchyard also. Eight ! but — why ? 6°. According to the law of the Relation between Thing and Quality : for when I think of a sphere, the concept 'round' is simultaneously suggested. Yery true ! but — why ? 7°. According to the law of Causal Connection : for when I think of ' Eire,' I frequently become conscious of the notions of its effects, 'Light' and 'Warmth,' or conversely; but — whyf All these ' whys' to which we find no reply in the old theory, admit of a simple and easy answer, in accordance with the law of the new psychology explained in the preceding paragraph. We proceed to prove this. 1°. These things of which we are simultaneously conscious are always permeated by movable elements ; and since a portion of the latter remain attached to them, they are closely bound together (§ 38). § 74-] Laws of Association. 203 This connection is less perfect 2°. in the case of Succession, when, by the appropriation of movable elements, only the end of the first grows on to the hegin- ning of the second, the end of that to the beginning of the third, psychical form, &c. Consequently, succession is only a partial co-existence in time, though, when often repeated, it leads to a close connection. Sign and thing signified, which belong here, are usually very closely associated. (See § 38.) 3°. The Similar is a mixture of like and unlike parts. So far, however, as psychical forms resemble one another, so far they always fuse into one whole (§9); consequently, owing to the similarity of their parts, like must in the soul be awakened by like. Naturally the dissimilar parts in such forms are also brought into consciousness, and, as a consequence, the other- wise similar forms are recognised as like. But while thus simultaneously co-existing, they are cemented to each other by the appropriation of movable elements, so that afterwards the Similar is able to attain to consciousness from this fact of con- nection as well. Hence, the excitation of the Similar rests on the law of Simultaneity in Time. 4°. !Nor is the case different as regards Contrast. "When am I able to say that two objects are contrasted? "When I have thought of them both together, and have impressed on my con- sciousness their greater or less difference. Consequently, the fact of their being simultaneously present to consciousness y is the reason why psychical forms the most heterogeneous are inter- connected by the retention of the movable elements ; and then afterwards, if no other or stronger associations prevent it, they are restored to consciousness as united. 5°. That which is connected in Space is always perceived by us as something simultaneously or successively existing, and as such its parts must be cemented together with more or less firmness by the movable elements. Exactly the same holds of 6**. The relation between a Thing and its Qualities^ as also of 7°. The Causal Relation, and depends solely on a constant and unceasing succession of different effects or processes in the soul, (and also for the most part in the external world, § 39). 204 Laws of Association. [§ 74. Hence, all these so-called * Laws of Association^ may he re- duced to a complete simultaneity in time, and a repeated sequence, (=E a partial simultaneity, or simultaneous consciousness) ; and they must be so reduced, because experience shews that what comes into consciousness at separate points of time is never as- sociated together. That alone which is excited at the same time can appropriate to itseK a portion of the movable elements, and thus grow into a whole. Still this would not explain why, when a number of psychical forms once conscious together are reproduced, the current of con- sciousness should set from this particular form towards that, and not in some other direction, (compare the examples in the preceding §), if we did not know that the movable elements are always immediately transferred from one psychical form to that other which is most intimately connected with it, or is one with it. The intensity of this connection depends, however, partly on the fact that psychical forms simultaneously in consciousness, are repeatedly 'permeated by the movable elements, and partly on the greater or less fulness with which those elements are, as it were, shed over the forms to be awakened. Experience, too, proves that the visible more easily excites the visible, the audible the audible, &c., than the visible does the audible, and conversely (all else being the same), which evidently depends on the greater original similarity and consequent closer connection subsisting between those powers. Whether, then, in this or that case the law of similarity, or of contrast, or any other prevails, depends simply on the intensity of the connection subsisting between the different psychical forms, and if we were accurately acquainted with this in all cases, we should invariably be able to predict what psychical form would be aroused into consciousness by any other under any given com- bination of circumstances. In our own case, and in that of others with whom we are well acquainted, we do already, as a fact, know beforehand what the course of consciousness will be. Involuntary suggestions (not to be confounded with involuntary impressions), which often arise suddenly in the soul, and are § 75-] Memory^ Recollection^ and Imaginary Notions. 205 completely unconnected with the series of forms at present excited, admit of the following simple explanation. At every point of the human soul there are to be found, early in the morn- ing, fresh or void original powers, with which general, vague stimulants enter into connection. Now, if they are both col- lected in any considerable quantity at any one point (as they possibly may be, in consequence of our other psychical acts), it is natural enough that they should arouse into consciousness that psychical form round which they cluster ; for these powers are essentially living and active, and just as external stimulants press forwards to the soul (take sound and light for examples), so also it is impossible for internal stimulants to be passive and dead. Such involuntary suggestions are abundant in the morn- ing at the moment of waking, but they also occur at any other time in the day; and then psychical forms become conscious, which certainly cannot have been excited by external stimulants, any more than they are awakened by forms already conscious. With these exceptions, however, it is an invariable law, that forms can only be excited purely from within by others already conscious and excited. § 75. Memory, Recollection, and Imaginary Notions [Einhildungsvorstellungen^ . We have already spoken about memory in § 7, and discovered that it is not a special faculty beside and apart from the original powers of the soul, but that it consists simply and solely in the peculiarity which they possess of retaining, to a greater or less degree, the stimulants received by them. This memory is the foundation of all that which is further developed in us and retained (Concepts, Judgments, &c.. Groups, Series, Feelings of Pleasure and Pain, Desires, Repugnancies, &c.), and in it the movable elements play a chief part as connecting elements. For most of the forms which continue to exist in our soul are groups and series, which have grown up out of connections established between the fundamental forms, i.e. from those which Jirst came^ into existence j as, for instance, the notion, Tree, 206 Memory^ Recollection^ and Imagina/ry Notions. [§75- is a complexus of several different perceptions (roots, trunk, branches, &c.), which would not, it is true, vanish from the soul if that connection were broken, but which would cease to exist as this particular notion. The case is just the same with the notions, house, man, garden, apple, table, chair, stove, bench, &c. (see § 38). But of all fundamental, as well as of all derivative forms, the law holds that What has been once produced in the soul with any degree of perfection continues still to exist, even when it has ceased to be excited, and has, consequently, lost consciousness. That which was conscious merely becomes unconscious, or lives in * the internal substance of the soul,' i.e. as a * trace^ (see § 6, and especially the note on it). This unconscious continuance of what has once existed in the soul is Memory. It cannot, there- fore, be limited to notions. Desires, states of will, feelings, &c., have their memory as well. It is natural that every form should continue to exist more perfectly, in proportion to the vigour with which it was at first generated, and the oftener it has been recalled into consciousness, and thus strengthened. Hence the perfection of memory depends on two circumstances : 1°. On the perfectness with which the psychical forms were origi- nally produced. The fundamental forms (sensations and percep- tions) will be less liable to be lost in proportion as the primitive powers are stronger and more retentive (§ 7), and in proportion as the stimulants act with greater strength and fulness (§ 11), (but this fulness must not be inordinate, § 24) : and the de- rivative forms will be more permanent in proportion as the elements combined are similar (§ 38, at the end), and the more intimate the connection between them is rendered by the movable elements (§38). 2°. On the strength infused by repetition into what already exists within : and here again two cases are to be distinguished. A form frequently repeated is either strengthened by fresh and homogeneous traces which are added to it (§ 9), or the number of traces is not increased, but, on being repeatedly excited, they attract movable elements, and so become more perfect, which is § 75-] Memory f Recollection^ and Imaginary Kotions. 207 also true of the general tendency to association (see the remark in §54 and §38). The latter mode in which forms are strengthened is particu- larly conspicuous in the process of learning anything by heart. Not only do the connecting traces increase, but the forms so repeated themselves appropriate a portion of the exciting ele- ments, and, by so doing, grow, if the expression is allowable, in bulk. The same occurs when we are in a state of expectancy, or anxious, or in love, &c., when we are much teased by such matters, and, indeed, when any other state or act is reproduced, even when that is attended by disgust. Furthermore, what people call favourite inclinations, hobbies, whims, &c., are only forms of a similar kind which have been strengthened by movable elements. They are not merely very permanent in an uncon- scious shape (in memory), but they are ready to spring into con- sciousness at the least provocation. From continually appro- priating exciting elements they have acquired an extraordinary facility of becoming conscious (a great ** nearness to consciousness).''^ Repetition, therefore, does two things, which ought not to be confounded together ; increase in the number of traces strength- ens the form and increases its clearness ; the appropriation of mere movable elements strengthens and increases the fulness with which it becomes conscious * : in the former case, " the increscive space'''' of the form is increased ; in the latter, the " accrescive space" (as it were heterogeneous and discontinuous) (see § 54, note). In both cases the old saying proves true, that Repetition is the Mother of Learning (Repetitio est mater studiorum ^ ). * An obscure notion, though repeated internally many hundred times, does not become any clearer, it only gains in strength of consciousness [is more ready to start into consciousness]. * New traces can never be acquired by merely reproducing internally (re-exciting) psychical forms which have been engendered by external ob- jects : connecting traces alone can be increased in this way. But more than this ; acts of reproduction, suggested by something external, yet not by the object itself, leave the traces exactly where they found them, un- augmented. You may, for instance, remind me by words ever so often of a melody, but I shall not know it any the better : I must hear the notes of it. 208 Memory y Recollection, and Imaginary Notions. [§75. Prom this it follows, that memory is not a special and innate power of the soul, which is able to exhibit a general and higher activity when generally exercised : on the contrary, every single psychical form has its own memory ; and in a more perfect de- gree the more perfectly it was originally formed, and the more it has been strengthened by repetition. When, therefore, we ascribe to a man a greater or less perfec- tion of memory, this must be understood as being true on an average of all his powers ; for in every soul, however perfect it may be, there are always forms more or less imperfectly deve- loped, and resulting from only a few traces, and these are, consequently, deficient in the property of a ' good and perfect memory.' But is it not true, that a man who knows German and Latin can very easily learn English ? If so, it would seem that in- creased tenacity of memory may be produced, say, by having learned a number of words. Let us look a little more closely into the case. Consider the words, der Vater, pater, the father ; der Bruder, the Ir other ; ich hale, haleo, I have; ein, nnus, one ; drei, tres, three; sechs, sex, six ; %wdlf, twelve, 8fc. There is obviously a remark- able similarity between these words, and the resemblances are very extensive, because, as is well known, the English language is a product of German, Latin, and French. ISow, if any one is In like manner the number of traces in such a concept as ' bird of prey * can be increased only if I actually perceive more birds of prey, so that the combination of similar elements previously obtained is enriched by an actually new element : and so in all cases. "Without another similar or analogous act there is no increase in, the number of traces. But there would be no harm in regarding this strengthening of a psychi- cal form by means of the movable elements, as being, in a way, an increase in its traces, provided this particular species of traces was never confounded with those properly so called : on the contrary, since we do and must speak of connecting traces (see p. 98), there are many cases, especially in the act of learning by heart, &c., in which it would not be improper to call these secondary traces, reproducing or reproductive traces, and so mark them off from the original ones. These reproductive traces are obviously of great importance in strengthening our desires and repugnancies. §75-] Memory y Recollection^ and Imaginary Notions. 209 well acquainted with the latter languages, it must follow that, in learning English, the similar words already existent in his mind must be called up into consciousness along with the new English words (§ 74). It is thus that the new finds a firm foundation in the old : old acquaintances meet, so that the voca- bulary of the English language has not to be leamt completely apart and from the beginning : the pronunciation and other pecu- liarities are the only points as to which a new and special con- sciousness has to be founded on an assemblage of fresh traces. Hence we may certainly affirm that : Memory may he so exercised and improved as to he able with greater ease to apprehend and retain new impressions^ that is, in so far as that which is already rooted in the soul is ahle to coalesce with the new apprehen- sions as homogeneous with them^ and is therefore capable of forming a constituent part of them. But only to that extent. Hence, we may explain how it is possible for the botanist to apprehend and retain with such marvellous accuracy all that relates to his pet subject, and yet not to be anything like so successful in other matters. Or take the case of the so-called living chronicle — the village or town gossip, who carries about in his head and on the tip of his tongue every petty detail that he has ever heard relat- ing to every house, every family. Another man, endowed with far more tenacious original powers, would possibly find it diffi- cult to bear all these things in mind : the gossip finds no such difficulty, for the last piece of news meets with such a multitude of similar traces and forms, that it becomes fixed without more ado. Of course, the * interest' which such people have in such matters plays a part, but that interest is, after all, nothing more than the larger number of traces which these kinds of mental forms have attained to in them : it is, therefore, a case identical with the others mentioned above. But of what use are the strongest and clearest psychical forms if they do remain permanent within, and yet cannot be called into consciousness, or, as we are frequently accustomed to say, to remembrance ? Since there is a difference between rising into p 210 Memory, Recollection, and Imagina/ry Notions. [§75* consciousness and remembering, we must say a word or two on the latter. ** I was a boy of eight or nine years of age when Kapoleon, in his wrath, led his soldiers to Russia. A division of his army passed through the little town of S. The Garde formed part of it. I can see the bearded, bold fellows now ; how self-confident they seemed; in what upright, soldierly trim they marched along ! They passed through in ranks of six men each : regi- ment succeeded regiment ; the houses trembled, the earth groaned under the mighty throng. It was, indeed, an inspiriting sight, and I think I shall never forget it, nor will my sister either : she and I peeped out of a top window down into the street," &c., &c. Thus talks an eye-witness, and this much is clear from what he says ; Whilst telling his tale, a crowd of psychical forms become successively conscious in his soul, and they all belong to one another, because, at a former period, they were all excited at one and the same time ; or, more precisely, to the leading notion, ** Passage of the Guard^"^ are attached those of the circumstances, the time, the place, Sfc, under which the main notion was for- merly engendered. "When repeating this narrative, not only the same series of forms become successively conscious which were excited when I heard the story, but I also think of the person who told me it, the time, the place, manner, when, where, and how he told me. When anything of this kind takes place in the soul, viz. : When the process of becoming conscious starts from some main or leading notion, and proceeds so far that the notions of the circum- stances, time, place, Sfc, also become conscious with it, under which we formed that notion, so that it is brought again into connexion with our former life, then we say we have a Recollection. As recollection, then, is nothing but a continued process of be- coming conscious, and as that alone can attain to consciousness which has been fixed in the soul with sufficient strength, and by a sufficient number of traces, it is clear that perfect recollection, 1°. depends on the perfection of the memory (see above). It is useless having the strongest psychical forms, forms rest- ing on many traces, unless they are excited into consciousness. § 75'] Memory^ Recollection, and Imaginary Notiom. 211 They are so excited by tlie movable elements, and tbe more com- pletely in proportion as the latter are more numerous (§ 73): hence perfect recollection depends also 2°. on the fulness of the movable elements. It often happens that movable elements are present in suffi- cient numbers, and also the psychical forms which might become conscious are in nowise deficient in the number of traces, and yet the restoration to consciousness which we desire does not succeed, or, at least, only with such slowness, that when it does occur it is too late (compare § 14). Perfect restoration to con- sciousness, and consequently perfect recollection, requires, 3". in particular^ a high degree of vivacity on the part of the original powers. What, then, is the Power of Recollection ? It is certainly not a special innate power: on the contrary. Recollection is com- pletely explained by the fact that psychical forms are permanent, and that they are rendered conscious by the movable elements (§ 73) according to a definite law. Man consequently does not possess a single power of recollection, but as many as he has psychical forms capable of reproducing themselves as leading notions in company with those which are subsidiary to and allied with them. All those notions which are excited (reproduced) purely /ro/w within, and not at the present moment from without, are called Imagina/ry NotionSy using that term in its widest sense. As pro- duced from within, they become conscious afresh in the manner described in § 73, (they are not actually produced or formed for the first time). The expression. Imagination \_Einlildung = In- nenhildung~\, dates from a time when Psychology was in a very backward state. The so-called Power of Imagining is therefore generally synonymous with becoming conscious. Only in a very few cases do we know at what time and by what definite impressions these internally excited notions were originally formed or produced (as intuitions), and we are con- sequently unable to say which of the objects represented by them were the first to produce an impression upon us ; when, 212 Memory, Recollection, and Imaginary Notions. [§75- for instance, we began to form tlie notions House, Tree, Bush, "Water, Beer, Wine, Bread, Dove, Frog, Foliage, &c., (compare § 7, at the beginning). Innumerable objects of a like kind helped us to gain these intuitions : and the similarities in them soon coalesced into Concepts, — the consequence of which is that for the most part we reproduce those notions in the Concept-form, and especially so where the reproduction follows rapidly. It is at the same time true that all these notions of the Imagination, supposing them not to have been elaborated into Recollections, (see above,) bear, when they return unabbreviated and unchanged to consciousness, a stamp of generality, i.e. they are applicable to many objects indifferently, and hence are fitted to form consti- tuent parts in distinct and new notions, which we are prompted to form by external or internal stimulants. The consequence of this is that the new product is, in the main, formed out of old materials (see p. 102). Hence the development of the soul de- pends in a special manner on the way in which these imaginary notions are applied. When reproduced by the object which first caused them, or by one exactly like it, they give rise to Intuitions : when recalled to consciousness by something other than such an object, — by a mere word, (a word is of course never a thing — an object, except in the case of vocal intuitions), — or by movable elements, they remain mere notions of the Imagination : by merely connecting them with each other afresh, we obtain all those new notions (groups and series) which were produced in us when listening to a narrative, when reading a book, when being informed about some absent object, when reflecting on passed events, &c.^ Compare § 38. 8 Imaginary notions {JEinhildungsvorstellungen] therefore are completely different from " Fancies" [Einhildnngen], by which, in common parlance, are understood only such imaginary notions, feelings, judgments, &c., as are false, contrary to facts. That it should be extremely difficult for us to figure to ourselves with, perfect correctness objects which we have never beheld, from a mere description of them, is natural, since nothing but actual perception can give the exact correlative and reality corresponding to a de- scription. Hence every one, when he at length gains a sight of an object § 75-] Memory y Eecollection, and Imaginary Notions. 213 Closer inspection, however, shews us that there is an important difference between these imaginary notions. Some return to con- sciousness in a dull, dead way, others with freshness , almost as freshly as if they were just this moment formed (as intuitions). JlThe latter class thus remarkable for their vivacity and freshness are called Imaginary Notions simply, or Imaginary Notio7is in the narrow sense of the term. What is the cause of this freshness ? It depends simply on the way in which they were originally formed : for the more lively the stimulants were by which they were produced, the more lively will naturally be their return to consciousness, provided they retain the fulness of their stimula- tion. Now the appropriation of a higher degree of stimulation depends on the higher sensibility of the original powers : hence a more than ordinary sensibility on their part is the condition on which the formation of imaginary notions in the narrower sense of the word depends. In cheerful company, when in the midst of fresh and charm- ing scenery, in joy and anger, &c., we feel that imaginary no- tions, even those which at other times are dull and sluggish, briefly our ordinary ones, start forward with particular vivacity. Why ? Because in such cases a considerable amount of movable elements, and also of movable stimulants, are transferred to them, which they receive from the lively and fresh intuitions then pro- duced, or from violent emotions and inclinations (compare § 31). Accordingly, the formation of imaginary notions in the narrower sense depends also on the greater abundance of movable stimulants by which they are more completely perfected. When such vivified notions of the Imagination, which are already to a greater or less degree connected with others, are led to enter into new groups and series, because the strongest and most lively of them attract what is similar to them, and bring them simultaneously into consciousness, the consequence which he has frequently Imagined to himself, says, " After all, I did not hink it was exactly what I now behold." This is the reason why there leither are, nor can be, two men who represent God to themselves in ixactly the same manner. 214 Memory, Recollection^ and Imaginary Kotions. [§75- is, that the remainder lose their movable elements, and with that consciousness, and then arises what is called Fancy, or the creative (productive) power of imagination. Every poem proves this. Can it be said that a new poem represents new psychical forms ? Not in the least ! They are rather so inter-connected in subordination to one leading notion, the liveliest of them all, e.g. the notion of wine, love, harvest, &c., and in such a novel man- ner (form), that they assume a special relation to it, and so con- stitute a drinking-song, a love or harvest-song, &c. Such a poem we call 'original' and * clever,' when the notions so connected represent a whole which has never existed in that precise shape, and which elevates and enlivens every reader capable of compre- hending it: in the contrary case, we call it 'flat,' 'insipid,* 'common-place,' &c. The epithet 'creative' applies to Fancy not as regards the content (matter) which it represents, but only as respects the mode in which it combines notions, i.e. only as respects the form : and Fancy, again, is not a special innate power of the soul ; it can have no existence at all until lively forms are obtained, and also is itself different according as those notions are different, and that is the reason why a Fancy capa- ble of great things in poetry may be quite powerless in Music, in Form and Colour, in Architecture, &c. The exercise of Fancy is impossible, unless the special psychical forms which it postu- lates have been produced in us by their appropriate objects. Every species of Fancy extends as far as there are forms forth- coming to be combined in a novel manner, and it extends no further. The higher and more unusual activity of Fancy im- plies no other innate capacity on the part of the soul to which it belongs than a more than ordinary degree of sensihility on the part of its original powers : given that, all its manifestations may be perfectly explained by the law of the Attraction of Similars, and by the laws regulating the genesis of consciousness (§§73 and 74). Now it may be asked whether all these internal activities occur in the case of one who has had the misfortune to lose both his eyes and his power of hearing as well. Does all that which we have previously seen and heard through the instrumentality of our sense organs disappear as soon as those organs themselves are destroyed? Certainly not: abundant experience § 7 6'] Complete or Partial Quiescence in the Soul. 215 shews that the power of remembering them, of judging, of imagining, &c., continues unimpaired, — a convincing proof that our sensitive powers do not reside exclusively in the organs of sense, but in the rest of the human being as well, — where they exist we know not, and hence we cannot assign any local habitation to the permanent traces. See § 2, at the end. It is only when their energies are directed to external objects that our sensitive powers require the co-operation of corporeal organs : for their internal ac- tivities those organs are not required at all, and there are cases on record where the brain itself was partially destroyed, and yet where the original powers and the traces were unaffected. Even in our muscular powers a trace once developed remains after the loss of the muscle, and we find instances where persons after losing an arm will to strike or perform other acts with the missing member, just as if they still possessed it. Nay, they even occasionally feel pain in the hand or foot that has been amputated. Will nerves or any other material elements serve to explain this ? On the other side, we are justified in saying that our sense organs are destined not merely to support (§ 2) the powers to be developed from without positively, but negatively as well. The minute corporeal eye and ear so restrict the great mass of luminous and audible stimulants which often pour in upon us, that they are thereby prevented from overwhelming our powers. What would become of us, if the whole body were an eye, or an ear, in the same way in which it is a vital sense ? § 76. Complete or Partial Quiescence in the Soul; Sleepf Dreams, Since every sensation or perception formed by the soul re- quires in order to appropriate its stimulant an original power which is thereby rendered incapable of forming a second sensa- tion (§§ 9 and 30) ; since, moreover, in the constant alternation of consciousness the movable elements become more and more closely attached to forms, and so are rendered incapable of pro- ducing further excitement, it follows that every day a time must come -when both these kinds of elements are reduced to an ex- tremely small number, or are totally exhausted. The body also is equally liable to a continual loss of its powers, partly by perspiration, partly by muscular movements^, partly ^ In such movement the free muscular powers are transferred to the ob- jects set in motion. Perspiration is no doubt necessary for health, but what we lose by it is force, as is invariably shewn where this loss is excessive. 216 Complete or Partial Quiescence in the Soul. [§76. by contributions levied on it by our psychical activities (the soul is perpetually withdrawing something from the body in borrow- ing movable elements from it), and hence the body, no less than the soul, must experience a diminution of its powers. "What happens then ? Forces which have suffered a loss immediately strive after compensation for it (see §§25 and 26), and this is equally true of the corporeal as of the psychical. This loss, and this ten- dency to reparation, is noticeable after a hard day's work. We feel tired: our acts and thoughts get slower and slower, first one psychical form then another sinks into unconsciousness, and at last we fall asleep. (Compare § 30.) But increased activity then reigns in the body, in the powers of which the body consists externally and internally. They are material powers ; on them mainly depends the preservation and continuance of life ; and hence we call them vital powers = powers of life. (For further details, see § 81.) It is these corporeal powers which are exerted during sleep to supplement the losses of the day; their activity now becomes a vital activity, i.e. the act of assimilation and appropriation ; and hence, in the morning, we find all our lost bodily forces more completely re- paired in proportion as our sleep has been better and sounder. All our limbs are invigorated, /or the material prepared for their use ly digestion is appropriated ly them and converted into fresh lodily powers. Hence, the peculiar characteristic, the essential nature of sleep, does not consist in our being unconscious. Even in our waking moments we are always unconscious as respects the greater part of our psychical nature, — consciousness belongs only to a very small number of our psychical forms at the same moment, and must consequently be subtracted from one form when it passes to another. Can it be asserted that this unconsciousness strengthens those forms just as sleep strengthens the body ? Certainly not : on the contrary, the longer they remain unconscious, the weaker they become ; or if not, yet, at least, the more difficult it is to re- produce them. Morbid sleep also, as it is called, which is only a suspension of consciousness, never strengthens the body, whence § 7^*] Confute or Partial Quiescence in the Soul. 217 it follows tKat healthy, refreshing sleep cannot consist in a mere inactive unconscious state. In § 8i we shall see that Body and Soul are subject to similar laws, and this fact is apparent in the present case. Psychical Forms are strengtlwned only when in an excited consciotcs condition^ and corporeal powers only hy their special activity in sleep. This activity is scarcely perceptible from without, indeed it seems to be absolutely non-existent ; for digestion, circulation, respiration, &c., proceed as a rule slower during sleep : but as an assimi- lating activity, that activity is quite distinct from these pro- cesses. Sleep, therefore, in a healthy condition, must perpetually and regularly recur the moment the body has lost its movable elements (forces), which are resident in its internal and external organs, themselves composed of definite and closely-connected elements or traces, and the greater the loss is, the quicker and more energetically do the forces of those organs strive after com- pensation or reparation. When we are awake, it is true that digestible matter is also in some degree assimilated and appro- priated, especially on resting from fatiguing labour, but never- theless what is effected under such circumstances is insignificant, and can never supply the place of sleep. The approach of sleep is favoured by everything which either depresses mental life (cuts off the supply of exciting elements, especially fatiguing mental toil, and also listless reverie, want of external excitement), or which gives increased impetus to the bodily act of appropria- tion^ such as superabundance of food, hot drinks, great bodily exhaustion, &c., &c. That during sleep our psychical forms are unexcited, and consequently unconscious is natural, since the psychical elements, which as movable elements excite them, are very deficient. ^Nevertheless, that peculiar activity to which we are indebted for new mental original powers is not absent from the soul at such a time, such powers being obtained mainly during sleep : we shall have occasion to speak further of these presently in § 82. Suffice it to say that unconsciousness is merely a concomitant of sleep, the peculiar characteristic of which consists in the corporeal act of appropriation, by which new bodily powers are formed out of tne nutritive elements 218 Complete or Partial Quiescence in the Soul. [§76. taken in from without, and rendered fit for tliat process by digestion. In old age, in proportion as we lose this power of appropriating and assimilating material, so must sleep also diminish (see § 83), and a like phenomenon may be observed as temporally co-existent with many diseases. During sleep, however, perfect quietude does not always pre- vail in the soul, as is proved by the phenomenon of dreaming. How is this to be explained ? As a rule, the movable psychical elements are not one and all used up when sleep overtakes us, as is clear from the fact that we remain awake for a longer period when any subject parti- cularly interests us ; while, on the other hand, we easily fall asleep (e.g. in reading) when these elements are but slightly excited by external objects, and especially when all around us is still. I^ow, amongst our notions there are some which were often present to consciousness, and for considerable periods during the day, because they related to objects important to us. Hence, when sleep overtakes us, they maintain a greater nearness to consciousness than others ; they stand, so to say, on the threshold of consciousness, and only require a slight impulse to make them again start up so far as that is possible in sleep, whilst all the rest of our forms repose in complete oblivion. The movable elements, even in their diminished numbers, are sufficient to excite them, and thus we may explain why we so often con- tinue in our dreams the occupations of the day. Most dreams remain completely obscure processes, because our notions, owing to the paucity of exciting elements, are only aroused in some of their traces. Naturally enough these elements, which dur- ing sleep have no definite direction, are able to light upon those forms also of which we have been long unconscious during our waking hours, and then we dream of things which were farthest from our waking thoughts. There is nothing astonishing in the chequered confusion and extravagance which usually prevails in our dreams. Our no- tions are connected in groups and series so comprehensive and so extensive that even in a waking condition they cannot be perfectly reproduced in their entirety. What must be the effect § 7 6.] Complete or Partial Quiescence in the Soul. 219 then, when, as is the case in sleep, movable elements are only present in small numbers? A group will be only partially excited, a series will be broken off when only half excited — it will now be affected by movable elements at its beginning, pre- sently it's the end : how is it possible that the orderliness of waking consciousness (only the clearly conscious can direct!) should be preserved? It is also possible that such fragments may arise now in that series or group and then in another, and then there is no limit to the extravagant confusion and combina- tions of dreams. More order and more clearness is observable in dreams when sleep, towards morning, has already produced such an abund- ance of fresh original powers, that external stimulants again find an easy access ; or when, shortly after falling asleep, there are still so many unemployed original powers at hand that the same effect may be produced without actually causing us to awake. At such a time it- is possible to suggest dreams to a sleeper, he may hear the sounds of an Eolian harp placed near the window of his bedroom, and be excited by it to visions of wondrous beauty; and, as a fact, most of our pleasant dreams occur towards morning. Of course, that such an effect should be produced by an external cause on our auditory powers a peculiar sensibility/ to stimulants is necessarily implied. The excitation produced by the higher senses falls to a mi- nimum about the middle of the night : sleep then is really sleep, i.e. it consists mainly in the act of appropriation then carried on by the bodily vital system. Hence, dreams then usually bear the impress of the loiver and more purely animal senses, for at such a time these lower sensuous elements are all that can excite dreams. The higher and least primitive forms are in general but imperfectly and rarely conscious in dreams, and are therefore unable to correct or drive away false and im- moral ideas, a fact expressed in the saying that ** conscience is asleep during dreaming." Plato observed long ago that ** good men permit themselves to do in dreams and in dreams only, what bad men do when awake." Here also belongs the common expression, **I never even dreamt of such a thing." Con- 220 Complete or Pa/rtial Quiescence in the Soul. [§76. sequently, dreams prove nothing for or against a man's moral character. If we fall asleep with a heart oppressed by care and anxiety, we need not wonder that we are visited by perturbed and pain- ful dreams, for that which is out of tune can produce no plea- surable emotions. If you go to bed with an overloaded stomach, or if you lie so that the blood is driven to the brain, if you ex- perience any pressure or pain in any part of the body, these unpleasant corporeal feelings will awaken what is allied to them in the soul — disgusting and painful dreams are unavoid- able — take nightmare for instance. Everywhere the law pre- vails, that the similar attracts and excites the similar. Dreams, then, are nothing more than the same excitation of consciousness which occurs also during our waking hours, only with this important d fference, that in the latter the exci- tation is perfect and orderly, in the former it is partial, and hence, obscure, fragmentary, and confused. Now if waking, with its clear notions, does not predict the future for us, how can dreaming, with its blunted and obscured fancies, do so ? That so long as the dream lasts we take our fancies for realities is quite natural. The realities which surround us are in fact blocked out, because the senses are closed, and as they no longer operate on external objects, any comparison between the external and the internal is impossible ; and if, when awake, we frequently fancy falsely, as every one knows we do, with- out perceiving our error, how is it possible that our dreaming fancies should be recognised as erroneous ? That which is only obscurely con- scious cannot possibly make out its bearings by reference to the unconscious. It is only when the fundamental forms of our soul, when intuitions are clearly conscious, that the continued operation of the movable elements can be rightly directed, in such a manner that an objectively (really) correct consciousness is produced, i.e. that a rational psychical proof is possible *. But how could intuitions, which are derived from the primitive activities * [So dass eine ohjectiv (sachgemass) richtige Bewusstwerdung eintritt, d. i. eine verniinftige Seelenbethatigung moglich wird. The meaning is, as I understand it, that only when we are healthy and wide awake can we rationally prove to ourselves which of our fancies are true, which false, which have an objective correlative, and which have not.] 77-] Internal Senses. 221 of the senses, be excited when the senses are in such -r^fwie fliiiit ^Ij^ vtey incapable of being aflfected by the external world '' ? i ; U ^ ' I v Fj li - . - ^ § 77. Consciousness 0/ Psychical Processes, which dept'^ on Special Concepts. Internal Senses^ Internal Perception. Experience teaches universally that children do not at first perceive their own psychical acts, though nothing is nearer to them ; indeed, there are grown-up people enough of whom the same may be asserted to a great extent. They have clear in- tuitions of what exists and goes on without them, but their own inner life and processes remain obscure to them, and in a great measure totally unknown. There is, however, nothing in this fact of experience which ought to astonish us. No doubt all intuitions consist in a union between powers and their corresponding stimulants^ that is, between the subjective and the objective^ and one might suppose that the soul would from the first moment perceive the subjective (its own powers) : but it wiU be proved presently that such a per- ception requires concepts which can only arise at a later period. All souls, without exception, begin to develope by receiving external impressions, and so form sensations and intuitions of the objects of the external world. These give birth to Concepts, and that presupposes (as we saw in § 15) that the internal movable elements awaken, along with a present intuition, those elements resembling it which have been already acquired. Now since intuitions are intuitions only because the objective — the stimulants — occupy the larger share of consciousness, what must happen ? The movable elements are more abundantly shed over that objective element, it attracts them with overwhelming force, ^ For further details as to sleep and dreams as well, see BeneJce's " Lehr- buch der Psychologie," 3rd edit. § 312 sqq. ; the subject is pursued at still greater length in Dressler's " Beitrage," (mentioned at p. 82) part ii. p. 232 sqq. An important notice on Dreams will be found at the end of § 78, below. 222 Internal Senses. [§77- and consequently the stimulant side in these psychical forms is, and must he, more vividly conscious than the power side of it. Erom this it follows that subjective concepts, those which spring purely from the peculiar nature of these powers, cannot at first come into existence at all. It is only when, as develop- ment proceeds, we hecome, as it were, sated with stimulants, that these forms can he excited more strongly on their power side than on the other, and then only can that side be separately presented in consciousness. Notwithstanding, as soon as ohjective concepts begin to be formed, consciousness is partially diverted towards the sub- jective side. Consider the following. The concept, stone, for example, contains less objectivity than the intuition of an individual stone does : for the former merely contains the similar constituent parts in the intuitions of stones from which it was formed, and the like is true of the concepts, Man, Mountain, House, Field, Forest, &c., as contrasted with the intuitions of particular men, mountains, &c. In order to produce such concepts, the soul necessarily exhibits greater in- dependence and activity than is required merely to form intui- tions, and by producing them it gets continually nearer to a concept of the subject. That the difference between such con- cepts and intuitions is, at first, but little noticed is natural, since they are, as it were, concealed by the vivid consciousness of the words by which they are designated, and also because we are obliged to give the same names to intuitions and to their corresponding concepts (see § i6). The effect of these two cir- cumstances is that concepts ripen into clearness slowly, and therefore we only arrive very gradually at a consciousness of the parts contained in our intuitions. We rise most effectually above mere sense intuitions, and therefore above the purely objective, by means of simple con- cepts, which we gain gradually, i.e. by those which involve only one mark or attribute, e.g. round, smooth, pointed, long, thin, little, &c. The intuitions from which these are gathered, could never give rise to them at all if they were all present to consciousness in their totality : only a fraction of them must be § 77-] Internal Semes. 223 present. Take, for instance, the concept pointed. The objects from the intuitions of which this was abstracted (see the note on p. 35) were and are much more than pointed, they had and have length, thickness, weight, colour, the material of which they consist is hard, or soft, &c. And as these qualities are contained in the things themselves, so such marks are likewise contained in our intuitions of them ; and yet in order to yield us the concept ** pointed," all those other marks must disappear from view ! the movable elements which render the concept conscious must be concentrated solely on one, viz. * pointed,' otherwise that simple concept could never be formed. Hence, we find that In order to form concepts^ our intutttons are not always repro- duced side hy side in their entirety, hut mere fragments and fractions of them are presented to co?isciousness. The concept 'Intuition' springs from a number of intuitions reproduced together and almost undivided : so also the concepts, 'Man,' 'House,' 'Tree,' &t;., likewise: but those like 'over,' 'there,' 'out of,' 'from,' *to,' 'by,' &c., since they are strictly simple concepts, can only have been produced by single fragments and fractions of intuitions. That this may and does happen is natural, since the movable elements ebb away from points just now excited in the same quantity in which they are diffused over other points, or it may be, over some single one. In such cases the intuitions are excited as regards a minimum of their con- tents (their powers and stimulants), and the question arises whether the whole stimulant may not remain unconscious, so that the relative powers, from having the whole of the movable elements concentrated on them, would alone be conscious, to the total exclusion from consciousness of the object. And this ac- tually does occur in the formation of many concepts. Take the concept *to see.^ This indicates something ex- clusively sensible, but what it is that is seen, what the stimu- lants are, it does not indicate ; it represents a mere elementary act of the soul. Nor is the case different with the concepts to hear, touch, taste, smell, feel. Here we find the intuitions of the visible, audible, &c., brought before consciousness only on 224 Internal Senses. [§ 77* the subjective (the power) side : the stimulants are at best but faintly indicated, and as a rule are completely excluded from consciousness. Since seeing, hearing, &c., are the first acts of a child's soul, it is not to be wondered at that the con- cepts of them arise very early, although at first they are some- what obscure, being produced by intuitions as yet poor in traces (compare § 55). Moreover, seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling, &c., are acts which cannot so easily be confounded together, and hence the psychical fact which lies at the bottom of them can- not be well confounded either ; each power will always easily proclaim its specific character. In a similar manner, all con- cepts of the subjective are produced, and they may gradually rise to a clearness as great as that possessed by intuitions of external objects, indeed to greater clearness, for the spring and source of consciousnsss lies in the powers rather than in the stimulants. To instance one or two more examples, take the concepts, to desire or repel. It is not the stimulants, but the powers within us directed to them, that desire or repel. This subjective com- munity of quality coalesces when such concepts are formed, as soon as ever different desires or repulsions are reproduced toge- ther, and the objective side becomes unconscious. The same takes place in the formation of the concepts to feel (feeling), to judge (judgment), to infer (inference), to think (thought), to will (will), &c. On a still higher level stand those concepts of the subjective which we call the clearness, vivacity, tenacity, obscu- rity, &c., of the soul's acts, for the production of them requires that the powers therein regarded should only come into con- sciousness partially, as to a single mark and characteristic. Observe that (as was asserted in p. 149) there are actually in the soul traces which, to a certain extent, are again divested of their stimulants — ^for concepts representing the subjective are composed of such traces. Moreover, these concepts are formed precisely as those of external objects are (§ 15) — their gradation also is exactly similar (§ 16). For instance, as soon as the con- cepts Perception, Concept, Feeling, &c., are produced, the points, common to them all, may coalesce, and form the higher concept. § 77«] Internal Semes. 22^ Psychical Form. The only thing peculiar to these concepts is, that they are harder to form than others, because, at first, the objective presses too strongly forward, and because our psychical processes are not so permanent and fixed as external objects affecting us are. They, therefore, presuppose a careful attention to what passes within us, and what occurs there is of itself more or less conscious; they presuppose that we take the trouble to bring simultaneously hefore consciousness what is allied — these general conditions for the formation of all concepts cannot be rigidly fulfilled in the present case, and that is the main reason why they are so difficult. But if we once succeed in our at- tempt, future success will be assured and easier, and then con- cepts of the subjective arise as surely and certainly as those derived from external objects. We know, from § 17, the fact that, as well as the reason why, concepts are decidedly clearer notions than the intuitions which lie at the base of them, or than lower concepts. That which, ipso facto, involves consciousness (let us call such consciousness attributive, or adjectival), is strengthened and enlightened by the homogeneous concept added to it, exactly in proportion to the quantity of light possessed by that concept ; and thus, for example, if I have the concept * Recollection,' it will enable me clearly to recognise my particular acts of recollection, (which, by their own consciousness, I should distinguish from each other, or from similar acts, imperfectly or not at all,) the moment I excite that concept into consciousness along with those acts; which excitation, for the most part, occurs spontaneously in ac- cordance with the law of the Mutual Attraction of Similars. It is thus that the judgments arise : " this internal process is a re- collection," " this a feeling," " this a desire," " this an act of will," &c. Although we do not enunciate these judgments, we still make them, and generally with such rapidity, that there is no time to express them. In such cases, then, we have what may be called substantive (independently produced) conscious- ness (i.e. the concept) beside the adjectival consciousness (beside the concrete act) ; the latter kind is apprehended or apperceived by the former ; it is, as it were, perceived through a magnifying 226 Internal Senses. [§77* glass, whence it follows that it becomes an olject as regards the concept apprehending it. The latter is like an internal eye ap- prehending this psychical object ; it is the percipient power of it, and hence we call such concepts Internal Senses. This proves that, 1°. the internal senses (powers percipient of the mental and spiritual) are nothing more than those concepts which relate to the qualities^ forms, and relationships of the psy- chical, and hy which we first properly apprehend and perceive the interior of our soul. 2°. It cannot he said that we have only one internal sense ; on the contrary, they are as numerous as the concepts that we have acquired, in which the peculiarities of the psychical have been elabo- rated into any special form of consciousness ; the old assumption that the internal sense is one and innate is false. Hence, what we call internal perception, or internal sense, is but the consequent of a special kind of consciousness, which has been formed in relation to our psychical acts, and out of them. If, after it has been formed, it remains unexcited, because too much of the concrete is excited, then the activities of our soul proceed unperceived by us, and this is especially the case when they are performed with great rapidity. The above-mentioned concepts are called the consciousness of the acts of the soul, in order to distinguish it from the proper or adjectival consciousness implied by, or rather contained in, our concrete psychical acts. The note on the following § shews in what s^nse this may be called Self- consciousness. It is, moreover, well known that even external perception is but imperfectly performed if the corresponding objective con- cepts are wanting. Por example, a man may speak his mother tongue fluently, and with a tolerable freedom from faults, with- out having ever perceived that he is handling substantives, ad- jectives, verbs, numerals, pronouns, &c. So, also, many a one sings agreeably, and yet he has never noticed that the sounds of his voice proceed in progressions of whole tones, semi-tones, thirds, fifths, &c. Moreover, a physician usually sees in his patient something more, as well as something different, from what strikes a non-professional person : the former sees by the § 77-] Internal Semes. 227 help of determinate concepts of diseases, and therefore more clearly than the latter, even though his eyes may be sharper than those of the doctor, &c. So long, then, as those concepts are unformed which, as it were, help us to see and hear, &c., what aflfects our original powers and merely produces intuitions, so long is consciousness deficient in that clearness which is required in order to discriminate the object of intuition, and hence, in such circumstances, perception and observation must remain imperfect. The lower senses only imperfectly retain what they appre- hend, and hence that there should in them be more feeling and less perception proper is quite in order ; and this explains why we only imperfectly distinguish the finer qualities of what we taste, smell, or feel, and why we are almost totally unable to point them out by words ; for words must be absent if the con- cepts are absent which they were formed to represent. Compare §§ 14 and 15, and p. 129 sqq. ^ ' Why is it that so many men are so wanting in knowledge of themselves ? They have never learnt to carefully observe their internal constitution. "Why do many declare that the new psychology teaches things which do not exist in the soul ? Because they are wanting in those concepts which are called internal senses. The acquisition of them, no doubt, causes some trouble at first, hut that trouble is abundantly repaid. Such concepts lead to a kind of knowledge which extends far heyond the truth and certainty of knowledge acquired through the senses. The senses merely perceive external things as they seem to be, and if we had other senses we should apprehend those things as possessing different qualities from lliose which we now apprehend in them. What things are in tliemselves no sense can reveal to us ; for every sense stamps its own character on its stimulants, and thus it is natural that the products of external objects are, for the most part, totally different from their factors (see p. 104). In internal perception, however, what perceives (the concept) and what is perceived (the individual psychical act or process) are completely similar so far as their subjective constituents go : the same psychical fact which was already contained in the object to be perceived returns in the light shed by the concept, only that it is then multiplied. Notion and Being are here absolutely coinci- dent ; Being, the Existent, receives nothing which could produce that kind of alteration in it which is produced by the power on its stimulant. Hence, in all psychical products, the factors producing them are preserved un- 228 On the Ego. [§ 78. § 78. On the Ego. The treasures of a carefully-developed soul are prodigious. It not only possesses innumerable particular forms, but the changes that go on in it are infinitely numerous. Take the case of a man who is thoroughly acquainted with three, or even more, civilized languages, and who is, besides, a mathematician, a na- tui al philosopher, or, say, only a botanist. He must know hun- dreds of thousands of words, which implies thousands of notions constituting the meaning of those terms. And yet not a sign of confusion in all this marvellous complexity, which exists with- out any local separation, without any local limitations. What is it that mainly creates and preserves this order ? The Law of the Mutual Attraction of Similars. Abolish that law, or interfere with it, and immediate anarchy is the result. But of all that passes in the soul, or is formed in it, this common property may be affirmed : The moment it arises it helongs to this soul alone, whether it originates in the powers of sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell, or feeling (vital powers) ; for all our powers of sense, together with the products springing from them, form one intimately connected whole, they are the soul. Consequently, the fact that they all do belong to one and the same soul will gradually shape itself into a special consciousness, i.e. a concept will arise, having for its content this one mark : the belonging of all spiritual forms and processes to one and the same soul. What is this concept called ? Before answering the question we must say a word or two about our perception of ourselves (our notion of self). In per- cJianged, for even the stimulants continue to exist in the concepts, judg- ments, acts of will, &c., in exactly the same shape in which they were apprehended by the original powers. Consequently, the deliverances of self-consciousness furnish us with notions which are fully and absolutely true, and they are therefore the highest to which man can attain. Com- pare Beneke's work, " Die ueue Psychologic," p. 54, sqq. § 78.] On the Ego. 229 ceiving and representing ourselves, four kinds of things may be concerned, which ought not to be confounded together. We think either, i°. of the whole man, consisting of body and soul, as when one says, I live, I dwell at Leipsic ; or we think, 2°. ex- clusively of the soul, as when we say, I increase in knowledge, I am immortal ; or we think, 30. mainly of acquired permanent qualities, by which we are distinguished both from others, and from that which changes in ourselves, as when a man says. I am a musician, I am an astronomer ; or we mean, 4°. merely those activities of the soul which are, for the moment^ strongest in consciousness, as when we say, I am glad, I am angry. In all these cases it is not a concept that is directly con- cerned, but an intuition, a perception ; for when self is expressed, as it is in the above examples, it is not as a something universal and general, but as a something particular and concrete. Now it would sound odd if a man were always to use his own name when speaking of himself, . e.g. Dressier exists. Dressier is a schoolmaster, Dressier is satisfied, &c. Civilized speech requires the pronoun 'I,' in such cases — I live at Bautzen, I am immor- tal — a word in itseK indispensable, in order to distinguish the speaker from a Thou (a person addressed), and from a He (a person not addressed), in such a manner that the hearer may know what to understand. Here the pronoun 'I* is a substitute for the name of the speaker : it therefore marks a definite person, either completely or partially. Now children at first always use their own name, although they have heard that pronoun a thousand times in the mouths of their parents. How is this to be ex- plained ? Why do they always say : Charles wants his dinner, Mary wants to play, and not / want my dinner, / want to play } It cannot possibly arise from a defective vocabulary, it must have a deeper cause. In early childhood the co?icept */' is obviously not present. ChUdreii' 8 per eept ion of self must be imperfect ; for they do not yet know that they have got a soul, and it is only the most ob- trusive internal processes that are presented to their conscious- ness. Being as yet completely the slaves of sensation, the only clear notion that they have of themselves is that of their bodies : 230 On the Ego. [§ 78. the inner selves (sit venia verbo !) are too unsteady as yet to become conscious, and exist, for tbe most part, in an obscure condition. In general, children regard themselves to-day as quite different from what they were yesterday, because to-day different regions of their soul are excited ; and hence their emo- tions are different. It can hardly have struck them yet, that everything in them belongs to one subject, to one and the same person ; but at length, towards the beginning of their third year, this unity is presented clearly to consciousness, and then they cease to talk about Charles, Mary, &c., and use the term 'J.' They have at length discovered in themselves the Unity (not the identity) oithat which represents^ and of the notion represented; that is to say, the connexion of these two in one thing, and this fact they express by the concept ' /,' which results from it. This concept grows simply out of the notion of self : percep- tion of seK must precede it, and the quicker the latter is pro- duced, the quicker does the concept ''I" come into existence. Moreover, (as is equally clear,) the concept remains constantly like itself ; though the notion of self necessarily changes as the soul unfolds. Although, however, both are indicated by one and the same word, we are bound to distinguish them carefully : for the notion of self is a rich concrete intuition ; the Ego or '/' is a strictly simple abstract concept, which, being one of the highest we possess, regularly attends the perception of self. Accordingly, the concept of the Ego or * I * is characterized as the fusion of the active notions in our notion of self in the single ma/rh, that the representing and the represented belongs to one and the same being, constitutes one and the same person, — a unification which equally attaches to all other psychical acts, and which there- fore is gradually raised into consciousness, so that the belonging of all conscious forms and processes to one and the same soul is stamped and expressed in the concept */.' ^ °» Since both from this abstract, as well as from the concrete Ego, there is excluded all consciousness of notions produced by the external world (our consciousness of external nature), both bear the name of self -consciousness, § 78.] On the Ego. 231 It hardly requires explanation now why this concept obtains such strength, and such a readiness to start into consciotisness, that in those respects it transcends all other psychical forms. At every step in the development of the soul it is increased by one trace ; since whatever passes in that soul proclaims itself as belonging to it. Moreover, it is clear that it never can attain to any suflScient complete- ness in the souls of brutes ; because their untenacious original powers are not capable of leading even to a clear notion of self (§ 1 1). And experience shews that complete idiots are unable to develope this extremely derivative and complex kind of consciousness, nor does the word *I* ever supply the want of the missing concept. Nor is it less clear how little the healthy human soul is destined to in- dulge its lowest propensities, since a child of two years old is able out of its as yet imperfect notion of self to abstract a concept which belongs to the highest region of psychical development. When we awake from sleep, the concept of the Ego awakes simultaneously, and it in particular assists in prodtKing the illusion of our having a com- pletely general or universal consciousness (see § 71, at the end). In children it not unfrequently happens that in the morning, for some time after they get up, they do not know what they are about, for the concept / is still half asleep, because the senses also are not yet completely awake. When we are deeply absorbed in contemplating an object, the exciting elements are withdrawn from this concept, because they are wholly concen- trated on the form, by the help of which we are thinking the thing before which, (in a wider sense,) is also the term used to express the consciousness oj our individual psychical processes or internal perception ; for this kind of consciousness also is opposed to that which we have of external things. See the preceding §, One question more. Can selfishness be engendered by this abstract Ego ? Never ! Selfishness is engendered solely by our connecting our estimates of objects more with our notion of ourselves than with those which we make of the persons of others. If we co-ordinate our estimates of objects mainly with that group of notions which represents ourselves, we shall almost invariably seek them, and use them only so far as they may pro- duce some advantage to ourselves, and that leads to selfishness, to self- seeking. But if, on the contrary, we co-ordinate them with those groups of notions by which we think of others, that association will lead us to kindliness for them, we shall apply the advantage to be found in valuable objects not to our own benefit, but to theirs. Of course that other or those others must be persons whom we regard as of value to us. How they be- come that has been sufficiently pointed out in § 57. 232 On Reason and Rationality y or Capacity for Reason. [§79. us, and then we forget ourselves, our ego : we do not notice that it is we who are thinking. The consciousness of the Ego is notably absent in dreams, because there are by no means enough exciting elements present to arouse its mul- titudinous traces ; and thus may be explained why we do not remember that we are a totally different person from that which the cunning jugglery of dreams represents us to be. In earlier days I have dreamt many a time with anguish that because of my ignorance I had been obliged to leave the University, return to school, and begin all over again. And yet it ought to have been easy to scare this trouble away, if I had only said : ' You are a director of a seminary, and your real concrete self is totally different from that of a senior boy at a school.' This judgment, however, did not present itself to my consciousness, because the true notion of myself re- mained unexcited ; and it was necessarily unexcited, because the concept "J*" continued to sleep. Very painful dreams not uncommonly cause such a disturbance that this concept must awake, and then we are glad to be freed from our imaginary torments^by the complete awakening which is implied by it "*. § 79. On Reason and Rationality, or Capacity for Reason, The external world contains nothing but oljects and their activities. These produce effects on us as soon as we are born, and continue to do so as long as we live. 'Sow if we had in our soul nothing but forms exactly corresponding to the things and effects thus produced, there would be nothing to astonish us in the phenomena of our psychical life. But we find within forms to which the external world offers but faint counterparts, and in some respects offers none whatever. To instance only a few: the external world (with the exception of men and brutes) has no intuitions, no concepts, no judgments, no in- ferences ; no efforts like those of men, therefore no desires, no repugnancies, no will, no estimation of good and evil ; no con- science, no morality, no religion, — in short, it has none of those higher objects which rest on man's supersensible ideas. !N'ow what the external world does not possess, that it can never give »» Compare, on this and the preceding §, the essay, '1st BeneJce Ma- terialist V p. 20, sqq. §79-] On Reason and Rationality f or Capacity for Reason, 233 us; and if it be objected, that at any rate there are teachers capable of infusing all this into us; it may be answered that the remark is worthless : for teachers, when all is said and done, can give us nothing but words, (which differ in every language,) and sense-impressions like those produced by lifeless objects ; and all these are far from being the forms which we possess, and what is more, consciously possess. Or are the words or other effects produced by a man, as soon as they have left him, self- conscious elements with which he transmits consciousness to us ? If so, a forest must have consciousness when it re-echos my name to me, and the snail must forthwith know what I mean when I tell it to get out of the way. No ! the self-conscious lives only in the souls of men, and cannot travel out of them. The external world excites us, but by elements which are in thetnselves spiritually and mentally deady and it is impossible by them to vivify the dead. That this dead something creates life, mental life in us, is a conse- quence solely of the powers and laws innate in us, which, how- ever, at our birth, are widely different from the products after- wards developed from them. How are these products brought into existence ? The present treatise has hitherto striven thoroughly and systematically to answer this question, and, as we hope, not without success. If any one after mature consideration does not find our explanations satisfactory, we must leave him to his own devices. Suffice it to say, that the original powers of our soul (this will have been made clear) are, at first, sentient only ; but by excita- tion and education they become consciously intuitive^ attentive, understanding, judging, desiderative, averse, willing, feeling, 8fc. They thus attain to forms of development which are purely their own work, and they thus raise themselves above all that is sens- ible and material. They win an independence and freedom, as against the external world, such, that the latter with its forces is compelled to submit to the prescripts of the soul, so far, that is, as the powers of man can control nature. Everything which is thus formed normally in us, we call col- lectively by the title Reason : what deviates from it we caU un- 234 On Reason and Rationality, or Capacity for Reason. [§ 79. reasonahhy or contrary to reason; whilst the word * irrational' indicates not something blamable, but mere deficiency in reason ; for irrational things may be very valuable. It is only those higher products of our soul, however, which lie far removed from the region of sense, that we dignify by the name of rational, and hence Eeason is nothing but The sum total of our highest faultlessly developed psychical forms in all their shapes : whether as notions, efforts, feelings^ re- memlrances, attentions, fancies, cBsthetic creations, moral and reli- gious feelings, or actions, Sfc. Take the superstitious man, for example. He is justly stig- matized as * unreasonable,' because he denies the truth of the higher concepts of cause and effect rigidly deduced from care- fully observed connexions and reciprocal actions of things. In like manner he flies in the face of reason, who renders himself a slave to excess, especially to the baser pleasures ; for those de- sires and aversions alone which harmonize with the true grada- tion of goods and evils, in other words, with their real value, deserve to be called rational. 'Morally good' is another name for the same thing. Now it is self-evident that Eeason, thus understood, cannot be any single, any innate power. So long as our original simple sensations have not been worked up into higher and more com- plex forms, have not been elaborated in accordance with the laws of the soul, so long must such Reason be totally absent ; and even supposing such forms have been acquired in certain relations, still a man must be irrational in all others where such have not yet been obtained. For instance, a person may be very rational in Mathematics, and destitute of reason in Music, and he who has a good deal of reason in matters of Chemistry does not on that account have any in Philosophy, &c. Hence, it follows further, that the Reason certainly cannot be met with equally in all men ; it must differ in them according as a favourable education has produced these higher forms in one with more perfection than it has in another. Compare in this respect an educated German or Englishman with an Esqui- maux or Hottentot chief who is reckoned among his countrymen § 79-] ^^ Beason and Rationality y or Capacity for Reason. 235 as a man of superior knowledge : the difference between the two in this case is certainly obvious. This difference may be produced by two totally different causes. It may be that the innate tenacity of the original powers in the German or Englishman is greater than in the Esquimaux or Hottentot ; but it is also possible that the former may live under circumstances more favourable to development than the latter. Of course, the spontaneous activity of the soul must in itself produce higher forms out of lower ones, and yet the influences exercised by good teaching, by a suitable form of polity, by trade, and intercourse, &c., must greatly assist in producing these results. Why do we Germans possess all our numerous educational establishments, unless they promote the development of the soul ? These institutions enable us to stand on the shoulders of all past ages. The Esquimaux, &c., if des- titute of the tenacious original powers of the German, would not become, even in our schools and universities, a rational German or Englishman; for the same reason we see scholars in one and the same school, and of the same ages, attain to very different grades of mental development. So we come round perpetually to the same proposition : that it is the innate tenacity and strength of the original powers on which alone depend, not merely the higher and highest Forms (the Reason), but also the mass or degree to which that development can be carried. In the soul, as elsewhere, nothing valuable can be made out of what is weak. Since, however, all healthy human souls, as compared with those of brutes, are endowed with greater tenacity and strength, we may, if we please, call that quality, potential Reason, or a capacity for reason, and hence it is clear that Reason is innate only so far as that tenacity exists. "We must, therefore, carefully distinguish the developed reason — reason proper, from innate reason. The latter is only the germ, the disposition to become reasonable : it is identical with what we in a former passage called the mental or spiritual part of man's soul, which may be called its natural rationality. This property, however, of the original powers of man is found mainly in the higher senses, in those 236 On Reason and Rationality, or Capacity for Reason. [§ 79. of sight, hearing, and touch, these being the chief sources of human reason ". (See § 8.) Eationality or Eeason, therefore, does not reside in a special power, as it were in a corner of the human soul, from which it forces its way, and gradually ennobles the remaining faculties ; but those very powers which we call sensitive, i.e. receptive of external impressions (see § 5), are at once spiritual and rational, nor are there in the human soul any elementary powers what- ever which are destitute of all rationality. Hence, an infant's very first act of sight, hearing, &c., is totally different from that of a brute, and (be it well observed) even such acts of sensation are very early manifested in children in a manner quite different from that which is observed in the case of the lower animals. As thirst is only the thirstiness of the palate and stomach, so mind is only the mentalness of our psychical powers ; but with this important difference, that the thirst is transient, whereas this mental nature is permanent, and increases. Therefore, the mind and rationality of man is nothing apart from his soul, it is only a property of his original powers, which leads to consciousness and to products unlike any evolved in a brute. These products o Why is it that persons born blind, whose most powerful and tenacious sense is closed, are not so backward in point of intellectual development as those who are born deaf, and are able to cultivate the sense of sight ? Because the man born deaf cannot participate in the uncommon advantage offered by verbal speech, considered as the medium by which mutual mental instruction is communicated. He who can hear another speak is able to acquire the whole sum of mental treasures which thousands before and contemporaneously with him have gained. In like manner he is able — a matter of no less importance — to retain with far greater perfection (com- pare pp. 13 and 100) groups and series of psychical forms by connecting them with words and propositions, than if they were left to themselves, in which case they would soon fall asunder again. If the latter happens, it becomes impossible to raise those forms to any higher condition within by internal elaboration of them, and such, as a rule, is the case with those born deaf. The person born blind, moreover, can supply a good deal which the want of sight deprives him of, by means of the sense of touch, as well as by other senses : for though the mark of what is coloured is unknown to them, yet the real and objective part of things is not. § 8o.] Temperament. 237 taken together constitute the mind in the narrow sense of that word, and hence, the developed reason, or reason ^ro/?^r. (Com- pare § lo at the end, and the note in § 69 p.) § 80. Varied Combinations of the Qualities of the Psychical Powers. Temperaments. The innate qualities of the original powers of our soul we are already acquainted with (see §§ 5, 7, 8, and 14). If we consider their mutual relations in general, we find that tenacity in all healthy souls is greater in the higher senses, lower in the lower (§ 8) : sensibility is sometimes greater in one system of powers, sometimes in another (§ 5) : and quickness seems to be in the highest degree peculiar to hearing (§ 14), that is, speaking generally. For on comparing individual men together we find these qualities very variously combined. To take the power of sight^ for instance, we may find them in one man, a. in a high degree tenacious, sensitive, and vivacious as well ; or while very tenacious, they may be but moderately sensitive and vivacious; or they may join a high degree of tena- city with only small sensitiveness and vivacity. Moreover, they may be h. only moderately tenacious, and in a high degree sensitive and vivacious ; or but poorly tenacious and highly sensitive and lively, or c. they may be moderately tenacious, and moderately sensitive and lively ; or they may have a low degree of tenacity combined with little sensibility and vivacity. There are many other combinations of the kind ; since every degree of tenacity, from the highest to the lowest, may be supposed to be combined, and may really be found in combination with every degree of sen- sitiveness and liveliness. P The subject which is merely sketched in this § will be found thoroughly discussed in an essay by Dressier, " Ueher das Wesen und die Bildung der menscTilichen Vernunft,^* in Diesterweg^s *' Padagogisches Jahrbuch auf 1864." 238 Temperament. [§ 80. Equally different may be the combinations as respects bearing, touching, tasting, smelling, and the vital powers. "When one reflects that in the above examples we have specified only three different degrees (high, moderate, and small), whereas, in fact, an endless number of degrees and gradations are to be found, it is easy to infer how infinitely various and infinitely numerous the combinations of these qualities of our powers may be. And in reality we do not find two men who are exactly alike in these respects. We have already had occasion several times to point out the influence exercised by this kind of combination on the evolution of the human soul. Thus we find generally, that a higher degree of tenacity pro- ' duces greater strength and clearness in the psychical forms (§§ 7, TO, 53, 54, 55), more sensitiveness gives then greater richness, complexity, and delicacy (§§ 5, 10, 50) ; greater vi- vacity causes a quicker apprehension, elaboration, and con- sciousness of the impressions (§§ 14, 21). Consequently, where a man is endowed with these three qualities in a high degree, it naturally follows that very favourable relations are offered for the evolution of his soul. Possibly we might venture to call such a texture of soul ' a choleric temperament.' It often happens that one quality so predominates over the rest as to prove anything but an advantage. Thus we find men, for instance, who combine a low degree of sensitiveness and vivacity with a high degree of tenacity. It is natural that they should be wanting in those products which result from an equally high sensitiveness and vivacity. Such a man may indeed develope such forms as are produced in him into great clearness and strength, yet they can never attain to great variety, to great multiplicity and subtilty, nor can he ap- prehend them quickly, or elaborate them, or bring them rapidly into consciousness; for great tenacity joined to defective viva- city cause these psychical acts to be performed with too much slowness. This kind of disposition is commonly designated ^ phlegmJ' A totally different effect is produced when the vivacity of § 8o.] ^ Temperament 239 a man's powers greatly predominates over their tenacity and sensitiveness. In such a case we find impressions quickly apprehended, elaborated, and rendered conscious : but the re- tention of them after they have ceased to operate, a firm and deeply rooted hold on them, great clearness and strength as well as the abundance, multiplicity, and delicacy of psychical forms, is absent. "We find such men quickly take up any subject, they throw themselves into anything heartily, but they are not steadfast in their eff'orts, not deep in their feelings, and but superficial as to their knowledge. We may perhaps ventui'c to place them in the class of * sanguine.^ It is diff'erent again when sensitiveness greatly prevails over the other qualities of our powers. In such a case, since the soul, from its want of tenacity, is unable to attain to strength and clearness, over-stimulation (compare § 36) must easily take place, and this being likewise defective in vivacity cannot soon pass away, but must be long permanent; and thus a founda- tion is laid for defective psychical forms of all kinds, such as fear, sensitiveness, selfishness, ill temper, &c. Possibly such a disposition is to be looked for in the * melancholic.^ The mode, therefore, in which these several qualities are com- bined at birth, exercises a most important influence on our psychical development, so important, that as these relations vary, so must the whole developed condition of the soul be diffe- rent. Hence it is that no two men, even if their external con- ditions are completely similar, can possibly exhibit exactly the same results in their development (see the note on p. 30). Although directly after the bii th of a child these different modes of combination are scarcely perceptible, still their constant and progressive influence confirms the old truth that * great effects spring from little causes.' The whole constitution of soul arising from the innate differences between the several qualities of the original powers and their com- binations is called a man's Temperament. If we are now convinced that the various degrees and modes in which these qualities may be combined are infinitely nume- rous, we may at once declare that the various ' temperaments' 240 Temperament. [§ 80. are equally numerous and complex, and that the old-fashioned attempt to divide all men in this respect into four classes (the choleric, sanguine, melancholic, and phlegmatic) cannot possibly lead to any valuable results : moreover, instead of deducing these temperaments from the soul itself, they erroneously at- tempted (as they frequently do now) to explain them from pecu- liar qualities of the blood and other fluids. It is true enough that the bodily constitution, as a whole, the different powers of which have, in different men, different degrees of tenacity, viva- city, and susceptibility, exercises no contemptible influence on temperament ; but the psychical, after all, is what decides it ; and as many a man possesses a dull body, but a quick and lively mind, so there are others whose body is strong enough, though their mind is weak, and so on. It must be allowed, that this division into four classes, where nothing more than a rough outline is required, occasionally enables us to hit off the characteristics of individual men excel- lently well; but it is useless for scientific purposes, for there these special, not general, peculiarities are all-important, whereas, out of a thousand cases, you can scarcely find two that exactly resemble each other in point of temperament. What, then, ought we properly to understand by * Temperament,* and how many temperaments are there ? The natural and complete similarity of all men, so often asserted to exist, is, accordingly, a palpahle fiction. Even at their very hirth there are no two human beings alike, whether in body or in mind ; how can they, then, afterwards become so, when these innate dissimilarities are constantly multiplied in the course of evolution ? To suppose that the souls of brutes and men are at first precisely similar in all respects, and that there is not so much as a difference of degree between them, is totally inadmissible. Even the noblest brutes are in psychical power essentially inferior to men. Compare p. 17. §81. Force and Matter ; Soul and Body. Formerly, the following was the way in which people re- garded Force and Matter (that out of which something is made, bodies). Force or power, it was said, is that which lives and acts in matter, for matter was looked upon as being dead, § 8i.] Force and Matter : Soul and Body. 241 hence they said, Plants (for instance) have different powers, as a power of tanning or healing, &c. The more modern view correctly declares, that there is no stick thing whatever as absolutely dead matter ; that all bodies in God's world are life^ and nothing but life, i.e. living power and living force, but it maintains that this vitality exists in different degrees. Accordingly, a plant cannot be said to possess powers, it is power and force and nothing else — a system of divers powers, which appear to our senses as something long, broad, thick, heavy, coloured, &c., &c. ; in short, appear as that which we call body, material, matter, or, if you please, substance. Hence we ought to say, 'Force is what acts in all that occurs^ — in what happens or is done by things, be they material or spiri- tual ; for only by such an expression is the essential activity of objects set in a true light. If force and matter were two dis- tinct things, were they actually opposed to each other, it would follow that we must be able to separate, e.g. in plants their forces, or powers from the dead material. But cut a body into its smallest particles, divide it mechanically or chemically, as much as ever you desire, or are able, and you will never light upon a power without matter. Force and matter will always be found united ; they are never separable except in thought, just because they are, in fact, one thing, i. e. force or power. Whit follows will serve to explain this. Men and brutes require nourishment in order to exist. Wh( n they have taken food it is changed by chemical metamorphosis, so far as it is capable of being assimilated, into blood. The blood deposits its constituent parts over the body, and these parts are required by the body in different places where it has suffered loss and decay. Thus the organism is renewed and obtains new powers by the nutriment which it takes the material thus acquired was the opposite of force or power, whence did those powers come ? Yes, it is said, it is exactly these forces which are appropriated ; all else, both in men and brutes, is afterwards expelled. If so, forces mast be liberated or extracted from materials or substances, a thing unheard-of in physiology or in chemistry. Matter and force, even in the s i daily, | in. If li 242 Force and Matter: Soul and Body, [§ Si. sharpest chemical separation, remain one. What these Power- substances are in themselves, and how they may have originally come into existence, we do not know : all that we see is certain materials taken into the body, and bodily power as the result of doing so. T^or does any separation we can effect shew us dead matter — matter deprived of its forces. In the dung, out of which * Force* is grown in the fields for us, we see every day that chemical combinations which were no longer of use to the organism turn again into * Force,' and they do so by entering into fresh com- binations, "Where, then, does this Force cease ? Can we won- der that there are creatures which live on our excrement? that the wood-worm, the clothes-moth, consume what is apparently dead ? "Why even the seemingly dead metals, like iron, quick- silver, sulphur, when introduced into the organism, shew life and force; for they enter into combination with the elements of which our body consists, and then operate as curative or detri- mental agents, according as the physician applies them. We are forced back to the proposition, that in God's world all is living force. If the stone or the tiles on the roof were absolutely I dead, they would be incapable of change. But bring them into I contact with things for which their elements have a chemical i J affinity, and they will immediately exhibit an external change. Capacity for chemical combination appears, in such a case, to be universally possessed, such as may be conjectured to have operated at the very origin of the so-called dead natural bodies (earths, metals, &c.) But, in order to conceive how a plant could be formed, we shall at once find this universal capacity for chemical combination possessed by the original materials insufficient. For, as all things on the earth are compounds of the same funda- mental elements (of which we already are acquainted with about seventy), the question arises, what determines their infinitely multifarious combinations, which are never casual, planless, but always consistent in this plant, just as in that. "Who says to the elements here you must combine in this manner, there in that ? The question recurs with redoubled force, when we consider how the bodies of brutes and men have been produced : they likewise § St.] Force and Matter : Soul and Body. 243 consist of a combination of precisely identical elements. Obvi- ously all these connexions require something beside the funda- *inental elements with their mere chemical action; something which compels them to produce bodies formed in this way oi that : bodies, too, which invariably reproduce themselves in the same shape, so that the species and genera of things remain con- stantly what they were. These bodies also continue to live in the mode once adopted for a considerable period, though at last they fall to pieces ; and the latter fact is incomprehensible, if we are to suppose that all is produced by chemical forces only ; for the elements lose none of their peculiarities. Whence, then, this dissolution of the body which we term death ? The dictum that *it is a law that so it should be' explains no- thing : what you here call a law must be based on something superadded to mere chemical action. These purely chemical processes are, in fact, not our friends merely, they are also our hitter est enemies, as the experience of every day proves. In a dead body the chemical combination of elements still continues — they are, indeed, paramount ; yet the corpse does not by them acquire fresh life — it tumbles to bits. Chemical action, therefore, and the preservation of the vital force, are two dis- tinct things. What is it, then, by which the bodies of crea- tures so infinitely various are formed and kept living for a de- finite time ? In plants this fundamental cause is usually called * a Type* * a Principle,'' &c. ; for people are shy of talking about the soul of a plant, which would explain everything ; but we shall hardly be able to escape from such an assumption. The concept * Principle ' is still less applicable to the bodies of brutes and men : the primum ayens, in their case, must, at any rate, be called soul, or else we find ourselves in the region of contin- gency and chance. Souls evidently are what arrange the origi- nal materials, control them, and direct their operations, until they are again separated from those materials, whereupon the latter simply continue to exercise their chemical powers. It is true that the concept * Soul* involves the mark of sen- sation and voluntary movement, which is absent from plants, 11 244 Force and Matter : Soul and Body. [§ 8 1 . with a few exceptions, and therefore we are willing to dispense with that term as a name for their prime active principle, al- though we do not see why plants should not have souls. That which is contained in the seed of a plant as * a developmental law' is not, at any rate, a peculiar vital force, like those which were formerly falsely assumed for every creature not absolutely dead ; for all elements are, as such, living, though they live in \ different degrees ; but it is a kind of soul, and where, conse- quently, this essence, this prime agent in uniting matter, is wanting^ there we find no orderly organic development. On the other hand, where it causes the elements fit for a pink or for a melon to unite, there we find that in the one case a pink, in the other a melon, comes into existence. The ulti- mate cause in all this can only be the Creator. From this mode of stating the matter, it follows that the laws according to which our body is developed can only be clearly learnt by studying the soul; and by way of entering a little further into the subject, we may make the following brief remarks. 1°. The soul requires for its evolution external elements, which produce an effect on its original power (senses) : the soul , tends towards these elements (stimulants), and appropriates vthem. These acts are preserved in the form of traces, which distinctly differ from each other according to the elements from which they arise. The case is exactly similar with our body. None of its ex- ternal or internal organs can grow or be preserved if food from without is denied it. Even as an embryo and foetus it strives after this by growing out of and feeding on the blood de- rived from its mother's body. After birth, this effort is mani- fested as hunger. The body appropriates the food obtained in consequence of that feeling by digestion and assimilation, though, at the same time, fresh air, warmth, light, electricity, &c., nou- rish it ; and thus its parts grow larger and stouter by new ele- ments being added to the old, which continue to exist as traces, i.e. the acts by which the organs are formed become quiescent, and cease to be excited. § 8i.] Force and Matter : Soul and Body, 245 2". In the soul, elements (original powers and stimulants), not yet firmly conjoined, flow, in the shape of movable elements, from one psychical form to another, and accumulate on the more fixed of them : by this process quiescent, and therefore uncon- scious, forms are roused into consciousness, painful forms are driven away by pleasant ones, and conversely, &c. In the body we find exactly similar phenomena. Its fluid and movable particles (contents of cells, lymph, blood) spread on all sides, and are deposited on what is already consolidated, which acts likewise, widely different as they are from those just described, continue in the form of traces when they cease to be excited. The blood has a special organ, the heart, for dis- tributing it about : a muscle well used is strengthened by these movable elements, an unused one gets weak ; the stimulant of a sensitive nerve is propagated to a motor nerve (e.g. writhing in pain), and the whole nervous system may be got to sympa- thize with the diseased state of one or more nerves. It is, of course, well known that sicky and disorganized parts of the body may be restored to a healthy condition by this distribution of forces produced by exercise (e.g. walking) ; but it has not hitherto been explained by assuming that, in such a case, healthily acting elements are transferred to those which are morbid and unhinged, by which means the latter are restored to a sound condition. Yet what is called * the healing power of nature' obviously consists in such a transference. 3°. In the soul, like attracts like, and fuses into one whole. This law prevails in the body as well. The fresh material is so connected with the old that it assumes a similar character to the latter. Accordingly, the original formation of the body, such as occurs in the mother's womb, is as it were the proto- type and original which will be copied all our life long. Fresh hair and nails are always like the old : lost tissue (skin, bone) is reproduced in such a way, that, at least, *it, in the main, resembles the old : even defonnities, provided they originated when the body did, continue themselves, e.g. six fingers instead of five, a crooked spine, and later growth and development docs 246 Force and Matter : Soul and Body. [§ ^^• not transform them into something opposite to what they were first, and so on. 4". The life and energies of the soul, as will he seen in the following paragraph, are propagated from within outwards by the perpetual formation of fresh original powers. After what has been stated, it needs no detailed exposition to shew that the body does the same. It would be impossible for the materials received to be turned into new corporal powers, unless the chemical activity of the elements were forced by the body, so far as it at present exists, to form a substance resem- bling itself; whilst it produces the substance of a tree in the case of a tree. The soul it is that invariably conforms these substances to that total form which we call bodily organization. Ko doubt the original pattern of the body which the soul con- tains within itself may be distorted by violent external influ- ences, and so the body may be abnormally formed, for the soul is not omnipotent. "We arrive, then, at this result. The old view which held that the body is dead matter, and nothing but matter, and that it stands in the strongest possible contrast with the soul, must be pronounced an error, because both body and soul are developed in accordance with similar laws'^. In its connexion with the soul the body must rather be regarded as a system of living forces, a truth of the highest importance in explaining the re- ciprocal action between the two. That such a reciprocal action takes place no one denies. Thus, for instance, after great mental exertion, we find our body tired, and, conversely, a violent strain on the latter fatigues the soul. Moreover, it is acknowledged that a contented, cheer- ful temper is conducive to health, as, on the other hand, that bodily sickness is detrimental to the well-being of the soul. What an influence is exerted on all our bodily activities by mental excitement, e.g. joy, anger, desire for revenge, &c. ! The pulse is quickened, respiration is shorter and more hurried, the 'i On the wide difference between Force and Law, see the note on p. 52. § 8 1.] Force and Matter : Soul and Body. 247 whole expression of the face, the whole attitude of the body, is changed. And, on the other side, what a commotion is pro- duced in the soul by bodily excitement, e.g. by spirituous drinks. Have there not been many poets and composers who were only able to unchain their fancy by a bottle of wine, mainly because they gradually accustomed themselves to excitement produced by such means ? I^ow the absolutely dead can neither excite nor be excited, and, consequently, in the reciprocal action of body and soul, living force acts on living forcCy and the whole of that process consists in nothing but the immediate transference of the movable elements from the one part to the other. Thus the excitement and liveliness of the body is of advantage to the soul, and, conversely, a powerfully excited soul must promote the activities of the body. The well-being of the body is ex- tended to the soul directly it feels itself enlivened, and the same effect is produced on the body by the soul when the latter is in thorough good order. Any diminution of well-being is equally propagated from one to the other, whether it be the soul or the body that is directly disordered. The examples already instanced at the end of § 39 shew that these mutual influences are not completely indeterminate and general in their mode of occurrence ; they are, for the most part, subject to rule, and depend on fixed associations between bodily ' I and psychical forms, established from the time of birth by the transferred elements which are passed from one to the other. Indeed^ from the very first. Body and Soul are mutually trans- ferahle, since they mutually interpenetrate ; consequently the soul does not dwell in the body, as a bird does in a cage, or a captive in a prison. But whenever the corporeal and the psychical are often mutually excited, this general and vague in- terconnection turns into a special, a more intimate and intense union. Such mutual excitation occurs, in particular, between those bodily muscular powers and those systems of psychical powers which are capable of influencing the muscles. For as the law of the formation of traces is equally valid both for soul and body, a portion of the exciting psychical element remains at- tached to the act excited as a connecting trace ; and conse- 248 Force and Matter: Soul and Body. [§ ^i* quently where, at first, we found only a general and vague con- nection, there we afterwards find, so far as the joint excitation of the two extends, a more intimate union established. The reason, then, why my fingers perform with such precision and readiness the different movements implied in writing, play- ing the piano, violin, or the muscles concerned in speaking, go through the complicated acts necessary to form vocal sounds, &c., is this. Between them and the forms of the soul connecting traces exist, by which the exciting elements produced by the soul receive their peculiar direction, owing to the fact that, in this case also, out of several points united, those are first excited which are most closely connected (compare p. 198). In ex- actly the same manner, associations formerly established explain the peculiarities which men exhibit, and why it is that many find their thoughts flow more freely and better when they are walking, another when standing, a third when sitting, a fourth when lying down; why many people always wake at a par- ticular hour, or can only sleep soundly when all is still, while others, e.g. millers, enjoy the best of sleep in the midst of a considerable noise, &c. But does not this mode of explanation throw Body and Soul, after all, into one and the same class? Certainly not. For although everything in God's world is Force, and hence ought to be called so, yet anybody can see at once that there is a great difference between the innumerable forces which exist on earth. According to the common and well-known division, they are distinguishable into the material and immaterial ; and the former again into the organized and the unorganized. !N'o one denies that the organized (men, brutes, and plants, so far as they are of a material nature) stand far higher in the scale of perfection than the unorganized (minerals). But immaterial or psychical forces are a still higher and nobler kind. As from the very first every class of these immaterial forces has, like the material and organized, its own definite form, so every particular power re- ceives, in the course of development, its own peculiar form (the forms of notion, desire, concept, &c.) ; and these forms are more exact, more delicate, and more complex than the forms of organiza- § 8i.] Force and Matter : Soul and Bodi/. 249 tion exhibited by material things. To these immaterial forces belong the souls of brutes and of men. Now, if the possession of feeling and voluntary movement raises the lowest brute soul far above the forces of plants and those of the brute and human body, which of themselves never exhibit any feelings, what is to be said of the clearly conscious soul of man ? Of all the mundane forces with which we are acquainted it stands highest in the scale of perfection. That the souls of men are immediately connected with bodily forces and powers proves, unquestionably, that the psychical and the corporeal must have a certain affinity with each other ; for how else could they possibly be connected ? But besides those properties by which the forces of the soul are enabled to con- tract such a connexion with those of the body, the soul must possess other qualities which essentially difference it from the body. If this is true of the two kinds of forces in brutes, it is d fortiori true of those connected in man, and the question therefore may be asked : in what does the fundamental distinction between the psychical and corporeal forces of man consist .^ The soul incessantly catches up external stimulants, and ap- propriates them : by this its original powers transform the innate j ^/C capacity of becoming conscious into actual consciousness, and retain it even when, by the removal of the stimulant, it turns again from the excited to the unexcited condition, or to a trace. The body likewise daily appropriates nutritive elements from the external world, but its powers never become conscious by so doing. All the powers of the soul developed by stimulants, and thus carried on towards perfection, follow their respective affinities and fuse into a whole, the effect of which is, that more clearly conscious forms are produced in proportion as the traces from which they result are more numerous ; but however complex the resulting whole may be, however varied may be their asso- ciation into groups and series, still they never produce anything extended. In doing all this the soul never swells or enlarges the head, however much it may have enlarged its acquisitions by study. In the body, also, the homogeneous powers derived from c 250 Force and Matter : Soul and Body. [§ 8i. nutritive material increase, as long as the body is growing, and the forms thus produced increase, in respect of traces, just as the soul does; but in so doing the body becomes larger and \ larger, it increases in extension locally, whereas, left to itself, it I J never can become conscious : only so long as the soul lives in con- I nexion with it, and is itself excited to consciousness, can the I I bodily forces be raised to consciousness by special excitation. |! Consider the stomach, which, when hungry, manifests itself to consciousness ; the intestines, which, if violently excited, be- come painful ; the muscles, which, after great exertion, become likewise conscious in a disagreeable manner. The indispensable condition, however, for this is that the nerves of sensation resi- dent in those parts should be connected with the corporeal cen- tral organ — the brain, and that connexion must be continuous, and neither broken nor impeded by anything, and also that the soul be not in a state of syncope or profound sleep. Just as completely external elements, air, sound, odour, &c., become conscious, so the bodily powers become so when, and only when, they are appropriated by the psychical powers, and are simul- taneously excited along with them. The relation in which the soul stands to the consciousness of the corporeal is that of an internal sense apprehending it, just as the internal senses, spoken of in § 77, were related to purely psychical objects. But if the soul has fled, no amount of excitement can produce conscious- ness in the body ; its power of becoming conscious along with the soul, of concomitant consciousness, is lost. Accordingly, it is clear what constitutes the special distinction between the soul < and the so-called material body. j In accordance with the law of the formation of traces the soul \ acquires consciousness, and increases it hy the mutual j attraction of similars ; hut all the while it remains spaceless; j whereas corporeal matter, according to the same law, gains only in \ local extension and fixity, and at last becomes rigid and \ \ unchangeable. Eor details, see § 83. On examining the development of consciousness in the soul in detail, it is found that it, too, does not attain to an equally vivid consciousness in all its powers (§§ 7, 10, and in other § 8 1.] Force and Matter : Soul and Body. 251 places) : on the contrary, it exhibits gradations of clearness and distinctness, which qualities are less in proportion as the tena- city of its powers are smaller ; and thus, at last, the soul, with its powers which are lowest in point of tenacity, interdigitates and mingles with those bodt'lj/ powers which are highest in that respect; though psychical powers, however weak, are always superior to those of the body, however strong. There being, then, decidedly a distinct difference between soul and body, it is idle to talk of an identity between the two ; but at the same time we have just as little right to assert a rigid opposi- tion between them ; both together, by their intimate union, form that being, Man, wh6, from the strength and tenacity of the original powers of his soul, stands highest among all the crea- tures of this earth. "We have already explained, in the note to § 46, and further illustrated in § 76, the fact that, as well as the reason why, those powers are called vital powers which together make up man's body. Besides these, however, there are also vital powers of a purely psychical nature, namely, those of the so-called * common sense ',' which is diflfused over the whole of the exte- rior and interior of the body, and is not, like sight, &c., bound to particular bodily organs. They are open to the impressions which we receive from warmth or cold, from pressure, from the sultriness of the air, from tickling, &c. Of all psychical powers they come nearest to those of the body ; and their feelings are so like those of the body, that we are often unable to accurately distinguish the two ; and, in fact, we, for the most part, indicate both by the same words (pleasant, unpleasant, painful, oppres- sive, racking, irritating, and the like). From this account of the matter it may be seen that the New Psychology does not leave the body aside as undeserving of attention, but takes a due account of it. Still, it is unable to attach that great importance to pecu- liarities of organization which are so much insisted on by physiologists, phrenologists, and especially by materialists j according to their view, the brain and nerves, their structure, their parts and functions, are of supreme importance in explaining the life of the soul. We acknowledge the value ' [See p. 32.] 252 Force and Matter : Soul and Body. [§ Si« of enquiries into our bodily constitution ; they are of the highest import- ance to the physician ; but psychology has hitherto gained next to nothing by all the discoveries of anatomy and physiology ; nor will it gain much in time to come, for self-consciousness alone can explain mental facts. The body merely serves as 2i force to support the soul (§ 2), for the soul is its superior, and by its directing agency even the organization of the body is produced. Materialists would prefer to reverse this proposition, for they assert that the phenomena of the soul are merely 'so-called,' they are the effects of man's more delicate bodily organization, and a soul as an entity apart from the body has no existence. This the New Psychology can never concede, and all we have hitherto said shews why it cannot do so. Any corpse proves that the body alone neither thinks nor feels nor wills ; and this is what might be expected, seeing that the spiritual and material, notwithstanding all their affinities, are, and ever remain decidedly distinct things. That the brain is the chief and central organ for the support of our psychical activities no one will deny, nor need it be disputed that therefore something depends on the size of it, although experience shews that dwarfs, in spite of their small brain, are often mentally more clever than giants with their large ones. As to the phrenologists, they really ought to see into what palpable contradictions they fall with the strange mental powers which they invent, such as'philoprogenitiveness,' 'love of unity,' ' combativeness,' ' secretiveness,' 'acquisitiveness,' 'love of praise,' &c. Our psychical forms may, without being changed, form part of groups and series of the most di- verse kinds ; and by so doing they become interwoven and crossed one with another, so as to form a kind of variegated web. From this it unquestion- ably follows that one and the same form may take part in philoprogenitive- ness, in combativeness, acquisitiveness, &c. ; for everything is capable of becoming a constituent part of that with which it fits, and by which it is required. It is hard to see how this is to lead to those particular elevations in the brain, and in the skull as well, which the phrenologists assume on behalf of the powers which they so illogically invent. We should sooner ex- pect that the softer parts in the head, e.g. the eyes and ears, would be en- larged by constant exercise, and yet experience decidedly proves that they are not. It is not even true that the nerves of sight and hearing, though they are always employed when we see and hear, and are continuations of the brain, grow any larger when the psychical powers of seeing and hear- ing are strengthened by exercise. Naturally enough, therefore, we find no impression in the brain of that complicated tissue into which our psychical forms are woven. §82] Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. 253 § 82. Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. " The human soul constantly acquires fresh original powers, which are identical in nature with those which it had at firsts"* This proposition expresses the fifth and last fundamental law of the soul's development (the fifth fundamental process). By this it is not implied that it is the last in point of importance ; on the contrary, were it not for it, psychical development must soon come to a standstill, and this law therefore occupies almost the highest rank in importance. But as it would have been unintelligible without a previous knowledge of the other funda- mental laws, we dischss it last, and moreover the order of these laws is, in itself, indifferent. Let us, then, carefully note the following facts. Directly we apprehend or perceive anything, the original powers and their corresponding stimulants unite (§4). Who has ever been in an exhibition of works of art or in- dustry, in a gallery of pictures, or a museum of natural history, &c., and spent one or two hours in carefully examining the objects there, without feeling a considerable fatigue and relaxa- tion in his visual powers ? The same effect is produced on the auditory powers at a concert, if one listens to the music with close attention for several hours ; the like is the case with the powers of taste and smell, when they are stimulated for a long time together ; and he who has spent the day in chopping up wood, or wandered from village to village, from town to town, will not deny that his muscular powers flag considerably. In like manner we feel tired, even though the senses be unemployed, when we think of anything intently for long together, or keep our psychical forms awake and as it were in agitation by cares and anxieties, &c. From this it is clear that the available and unoccupied original powers decrease in proportion either as they unite with their cor* responding stimulants, or are used up as movable elements. In both cases, of course, the soul has gained, and not lost in point of development; for in the former case new traces 254 Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. [§82. were formed, and in the latter the original powers are deposited on already existing traces (forms), which so far from harming, only strengthens them, and one might perhaps suppose that such an employment of these powers should produce a feeling of in- creased strength rather than one of fatigue. But the traces can only make their power felt while they are maintained in a state of excitation, and that implies the presence of movable elements which have not themselves the fixedness of the traces, but are able, from their movable nature, to impart to the latter a kind of impulse. This can be effected only by the free, void powers, and the general vague stimulants received into them ; and con- sequently, on their withdrawal, the feeling of fatigue or lassitude must arise. "We find the same relation subsisting between the solid and fluid parts of the body. The activity of the former is crippled if the latter are withdrawn from them. Eut after a sound sleep all the exhausted original powers are replaced; indeed, by the rest in which we indulge after exertion we feel refreshed, which, however, is less a proof of the acquisition of fresh original powers, than that many developed powers are under such conditions again released from their stimulants (see p. 76). Again, I was obliged to apply my visual powers (original powers), because a number of minerals had been given me which I had to carefully observe in order to learn to distinguish one from the other. After some time I grew so tired that I was obliged to give over. But after a good night's rest I found it so easy to comprehend the whole matter that I soon mastered it. On another occasion, I thought for a long time on a knotty point. In doing so, as we already know, original powers were consumed. I could not succeed in making the matter quite clear, but I managed to tire myself very thoroughly. In the morning I attacked it again, and, as compared with the preced- ing day, I handled it with far greater ease for a longer time, until at last I made it my own perfectly, and with full con- sciousness. Lastly, any one who has taken part in pleasure-trips has experienced the following. If, for some time before, he had §82.] Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. 255 been leading a sedentary life, lie found that lie was really tired by the end of the first day's outing. If, however, the first exertion was not too great, and his feet were not blistered, he got on much better the second day, and so on. It seems, then, that, in the hody as well as in the soid^ the greatest number of original powers are formed exactly where the greatest number have been used up. And it really is so : we shall presently see why. Fresh original powers are gained, if not exclusively, yet mainly during sleep. The essence of sleep does not consist in our being unconscious, but rather in an increased activity of the vital powers, by which the bodily forces used up during the day are replaced by new ones (§ 76). What these new powers are formed out of if we did not already know it, we might learn from the well-known fact that inevitable death by starvation occurs if a man takes no food, and that insufficient forces are generated if a man does not eat enough, or the stomach digests badly. Hence, the body does not replace its exhausted powers purely from itself and from within ", but from the ex- ternal materials or forces which it takes in and assimilates (§81). Nor can the soul preserve itself and grow without nourish- ment taken in /ro»i w;eYAow^; because there is no such thing as a making something out of nothing in its case, any more than there is in that of the body : what kind of elements it requires for its preservation and sustenance we already know well enough. It is not indebted to the body for its continuance (on this point see § 83), still less for its evolution and increase, or for becoming richer, stronger, and more perfect : for all this it owes solely to those stimulants which it appropriates mainly through its visual, auditory, and tactual powers, and afterwards internally elabo- rates; and uniform experience proves, in particular, that depri- vation of the impressions of light, sound, and touch, brings the life of the soul to a standstill, and prevents it from further • This would be a reparation, a generation of something out of nothing, because the body can only give what it has, and it does not yet possess the forces which have to be repaired and supplied. 256 Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. [§82. development. Now, if the soul had at starting far fewer powers than it possesses at a later period (and we have found this to be the case), the question whence these increased powers are derived hardly admits of any other answer than this : they are en- gendered out of the stimulants which are received, and out of that portion of them which are appropriated with least firmness^ after heing subjected to the necessary transformation. Hence, (this follows quite naturally,) the sensible forms produced afresh every day (the latest sensations and perceptions) must he the special material whence new psychical powers are acquired. Now, as these freshly- generated original powers are subject to the law of diffusion, it is quite natural that immediately they are formed, and therefore during sleep, they should attach themselves mainly to those forms whose previous conscious activity has used up the largest number of old ones, and that consequently they should remain where they were produced only so long as they are not more powerfully attracted else- where. In the body we find the same to be the case. Forces generated in the intestines, the special centre of their formation, spread thence in all directions, but chiefly to those parts where there has been the greatest waste ; so that, for instance, not the left but the right arm is considerably the stronger, if that is the one generally exercised. These forces, too, are distributed during sleep. Thus the phenomena which we have mentioned may be ac- counted for. It is quite consistent with what has been stated, that psychi- cal original powers are scarcely ever produced in our waking condition, when the largest portion of our psychical forms are unconscious or asleep (seep. 193), but during the time when all conscious activity is suspended, and, therefore, only in sound sleep. For so long as the soul is consciously active, it requires the stimulants which it has received, and which remain movable, for the purpose of supporting consciousness. But it has already been shewn that when thus applied, all the stimulants are not irrevocably connected with the forms which they excite. But if our fresh psychical original powers are produced in §82.] Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. 257 the way described, does it not follow that the soul is a thing consisting of light, air, odour, &c. ? By way of reply, I ask whether it follows that because we eat potatoes, &c., the body must needs be a thing composed of potatoes ? No doubt we are bound to assume that ligbt, sound, &c., have affinities for the powers and forces of our soul, just as the mate- rials of food have af&nities for the powers and forces of our body. And why are we not to assume this ? Is it not a fact that when the soul forms definite and precise feelings and per- ceptions, the external stimulant fuses into most intimate union with the original powers ? Does anybody know what light, or sound, &c., are as to their internal essence ; is not his knowledge of them limited merely to their external appearance ? No doubt we are unable to say how it is that stimulants are converted into fresh original powers. Can anybody explain to me how it is that precisely the same external forces are converted in the pear-tree into pears, in the nut-tree into nuts, in the rose-bush into roses ? This is the mystery of the innermost process of life in all organized things. Nevertheless, all evidence tends to shew that the hodily powers also may contribute their share in the acquisition of new psychical powers. For in the first place, the soul is perpetually abstracting something from the body, and in many conditions to such an extent that the latter visibly grows leaner, as in care, sorrow, anxiety, long-sustained severe thought*. The waking period is hence always the time when the body is the losing member, and this loss, by a natural law, necessarily leads to sleep (see § 76). Add to this, in the second place, that the acquisition of fresh mental powers occurs at the time when fresh powers are being acquired for the body, namely, during sleep, so that the one transformation proceeds hand in hand with the other ; and thirdly, experience shews that in most diseases of the body, the original powers of the soul are more weakly formed than is the case in a state of health. Are we * Children who are urged on to learn at too early an age, suffer thereby such serious bodily damage, that even death may be the consequence of it. S 258 Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. [§82. not justified, then, in inferring that the corporeal is a joint source of psychical forces ? However, it is never more than a joint source of them : for unvarying experience proves that the strongest hodies, if tenanted from the first by a weak soul, never do strengthen the powers of that soul, and conversely, that a strong soul acquires strong powers, even though the body in which it lives be ever so weak. Again, when, for instance, we examine a city, or any other complex object for the first time, we do not gain at the first glance anything like a perfect notion of it, not even when the object is presented to our eyes all at once ; we are obliged first to examine it in detail: thus in a city we must observe its several towers, gates, lanes, houses, &c. ; we must get a good daylight view of the trunk, branches, twigs, leaves, flower, fruit, &c., of a tree. It is only after these intuitions of the several parts have been obtained, and fused by the movable elements into a whole or group (§ 38), that we gain a perfect knowledge of an object. Compare also § 7. What is the infer- ence to be drawn from this r Our visual powers must have leen formed in the soul each com- pletely apart from the other : for if the power of sight were really single, there seems no reason why an object actually viewed at one glance should not be directly and immediately apprehended in all and each of its parts. It is of course true that we gain, even in a glance, a kind of total image of an object, and that image is clearer the more tenacious our powers are (§ 7), and more precise, individual, and exact, in proportion as they are more sensitive (§ 5) : but such an efi'ect is produced only in so far as we have already within something ready to be reproduced by this impression : a complete and perfect image it certainly is not. When, therefore, we find some men who are able to seize a highly complex object in a very brief time, they do so only because they already possess a larger quantity of notions corresponding to it, and because of the greater viva- city and quickness of their visual powers, by which their time is economized ; but particular and repeated examination of the object, by which alone o, perfect notion of the whole can be ob- §82.] Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. 259 tained, is as necessary in their case, as it is in that of those who require a longer time to apprehend it. Our visual power, then, works not as a mass, but invariably as special and indi- vidual, as it were point by point (drop by drop) ; and the smaller a child is, the narrower is its field of vision, and the longer is the time required by it to look over a whole ; e.g. the letters in a word, which we seize in the twinkling of an eye, they are obliged to take up one after the other. Nor is the case dif- ferent with the sense of hearing. In a piece of music in three or four parts, the ear only apprehends a few sounds definitely at the same time; and if a practised musician is able to do more than one who is no musician, he is indebted for that power solely to the numerous traces which simultaneously listen, and which he had to acquire one by one at some previous time : for these are able to operate more in a mass simply because they only require to be reproduced. The elaboration of the original powers, on the contrary, their union with stimulants, always takes place singly, one by one. From this w^e infer with justice that the original powers are acquired hy the human soul as they were at first, singly, one by one. But we must go a step further. In § 24 we stated what the relation between stimulant and original powers was, and we then discovered that the former might be too little, sufficient, very full, or too strong (either suddenly or gradually too strong) ; all of which cases would occur, if, for instance, we were to light a room by degrees from an unsatisfactory twilight up to the most dazzling splendour, and we were to let all these light-stimulants in all their de- grees successively affect our visual powers. A dim light would produce displeasure, because the stimulant would be too little for our powers ; one, two, or three candles would suit them ; ten, twenty, or thirty, would set them in full swing; a thou- sand, however, all concentrated and blazing together, would upset them : and this would not occur once or twice as a matter of chance, it would always regularly recur as often as we re- peated the experiment. In the other senses, experience shews that the same thing occurs. — Hence it follows : 260 Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. [§ ^2. That our powers are from the very first exactly similar as re- spects their strength, i.e. their capacity of apprehending and taking up a certain mass or amount of external stimulant, (that is, be it well observed, the individual original powers of one and the same system). It is true that in different men this power is also different (§ 80), so that one finds himself comfortable under a given stimulant which would be too much for another ; but in the same man these powers are all alike, so far as they belong to the same system. If this were not so, if their strength were different, or if they formed a whole in which the individuality of each was obliterated, how would the phenomena above-men- tioned be possible? how would it be possible that stimulants, in proportion to their strength, should produce effects so different (dislike, pain, pleasure, &c.) ? Whilst a strong stimulant would always be weak when applied to a collective power or mass of powers, it might easily happen, with unequally strong individual powers, that a weaker stimulant came into contact with a weak power, a stronger stimulant with a stronger power, and the Mutual Attraction of Similars would certainly prove so favour- able to this result, that stimulant and power could but rarely be at discord. But in that case how could there be such a thing as disgust or pain ? When we are unwell it often happens that we cannot bear the glare of ordinary daylight, or the ordinary sound of the voices of those around us. This fact harmonizes entirely with the account which we have given of our original powers : for we see from it that in many cases of sickness the fresh powers are proportionally depressed : as a consequence of the malady, those that are generated are weaker either in all, or only in some systems. It is noticeable that at such times the vital powers, which are the support of the mental, are below their ordinary strength. If we now gather up all that we have said about the acquisi- tion of fresh original powers, we arrive at the following results : — 1°. fresh original powers are acquired mainly during sleep. 2". where most original powers have been used up, there most are generated. §82.] Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. 261 3°. they are formed, by some kind of transmutation (which constitutes the most secret process of life in the soul as well as in all organized things,) from a portion of the stimulant taken up, and therefore 4°. the special centre for the formation of fresh original powers are the newly-produced sense-forms (§ 4), and in like manner 5". the bodily forces contribute their share to the formation of fresh original powers, 6°. the original powers are formed in the soul, as at the first, singly, one by one, and 7*'. all of them that belong to one and the same class, or one and the same system, are exactly similar as respects their strength (magnitude) and qualities. They deserve the name of *' original powers" because, though of later growth, they do not differ either in essence or in operation from those really original and primitive powers of which the soul consists at birth. Visual power, auditory power, &c., in the singular number, ought only to be employed when we speak of the power of sight, &c., in ahstracto, and wish to express ourselves in the most general terms. In like manner, * ori- ginal power' in the singular is only allowable when we really mean some individual definite single power. In the production of these fresh original powers it is very possible that forces may co-operate which are, at the time, completely unknown to us, because they lie too deep to have been brought to light by any observa- tions on the soul that we may have been able to make up to that time. § 83. Final and Necessary Separation of Soul from Body, Death : Continuance of the Soul after Death. If a trace is left by every thing that takes place in the soul with any approach to perfection, and if such a trace is alwa} s associated with those resembling it that have already been formed, the soul must be continually increasing in internal strength up to the very moment of death. Is this borne out by experience ? Apparently not, at least not always : for we find that not the mentally weak only, but 262 Separation of Soul and Body. [§83. not unfrequently mentally strong souls also fal], at an advanced age, into a condition of Idiocy. ITow, altliongh numbers may be instanced who, up to the last moment of advanced old age, shew no such symptoms, still that does not do away with the other and opposite fact. Thus much, however, is obvious at first sight, that this kind of Idiocy, which is completely dif- ferent from the congenital form of it, must be based, not on some law of nature, but on something accidental and contingent, for otherwise it would constantly occur in all old people. At any rate, we must consider this as well as other phenomena of age somewhat more narrowly. Any one who has been moderately attentive to what passes within him must admit that there are occasional periods in his life when mental activity is all but impossible. One's head seems at such times as void of thoughts as though it had come into existence but yesterday. After a busy day such moments are not uncommon. Strive as you will to reflect on an object, still all remains dark and unconscious. In many maladies this is so much the case, that the patient seems to do little more than vegetate. But as soon as these conditions have passed away, the soul is again exactly the same ; active, vigorous, strong as it was before. Hence that weakness, that impotence, can in no wise have af- fected the interior J the centre of the soul ; it cannot have touched those forms (the so-called ''inner substance of the soul") which make up its peculiar essence : for in that case, by what magic could it directly afterwards have become again exactly the same as it was hefore that weakness ? We have already met with the true cause of such passing weaknesses in § 13, and discovered that it is to be found solely in the deficiency of void unemployed original powers and general vague stimulants^ since they are the elements which excite our unconscious psychical forms into con- sciousness. For without excitation the strongest and clearest psy- chical forms are, for us, as good as non-existent. Consequently, a deficiency in the elements of consciousness must always pro- duce a stoppage in the current of our thoughts (§ 76). After a hard day's work there is directly a deficiency of void § S^."] Separation of Soul and Body. 263 original powers, because almost all of them have been used up in forming traces, and the necessary result of this is that no general stimulants can any longer be taken up, for that is absent in which alone they can take up their residence. The same must be the case in many maladies, where either the formation of new powers is impeded, or some damage is done to the connecting traces. The latter is notably the case where, in some violent sickness, the whole memory (as people call it) appears to be so deranged, that the patient on recovering, has to leam to read, write, cipher, &c., over again. But as experience has always proved, they are all learnt with remarkable quickness, so that after a few weeks' work that is again produced, i.e. active, which before it took years to acquire. The malady, therefore, only af- fected what was constructed out of movable elements, namely the associations and connexions between the psychical forms, and not the forms themselves so connected. But how affected ? Did it dissolve them ? No ! it merely, through weakness or impedi- ment, so damaged them that the exciting movable elements which are directed by the connecting traces were unable any longer to find access to those forms directly after the illness. The moment this damage is repaired by fresh movable elements which re- vivify the dispositions favourable to such connexions, the forms themselves return in all their freshness back into consciousness. Hence there is nothing inexplicable in the above-mentioned attacks of idiocy, or in an incapacity for mental exertion: it appears that they are only stoppages in the process by which our psychical forms become conscious, produced partly by a de- ficiency of movable elements, partly by damage done to the connect- ing traces. Now, if we should be able to shew that as we get older those elements must needs decrease, we should at once have an ex- planation of the idiocy which sometimes accompanies advanced age, and we should have proved that it is no weakening of the interior substance of the soul, but merely a defective excitation of our psychical forms. If we observe a child, we find it almost entirely the slave of external stimulants. A fly on the wall destroys its attention, 264 Separation of Soul and Body, [§83. and a cart passing by the window attracts its eyes towards it. It resists impressions of pain just as little as it does those of pleasure, it is equally the captive of either. A boy is already far less dependent on external stimulants. He can endure pain and abstain from pleasure, he can in general withdraw his attention at will from external things, and he be- gins to elaborate the knowledge he has already gained in a more independent manner. A mature man occupies himself by preference with what he has already acquired, and is often only with difficulty open to the reception of new truths, especially when they run counter to his foimer notions : hence it is that among all classes of men who have attained this age, we so frequently find an attachment to the usual and beaten path. In old age this is very much more the case : and of many we say that they are dead to the world. The following observations will reveal the cause of these phenomena. When we meet agriculturalists, what is their favourite topic of conversation ? Agriculture. Go into the company of teachers, and you will find that education is the staple of their talk. Go amongst physicians, theologians, botanists ; listen to merchants, mechanics, soldiers, &c., and see whether their conversation does not mainly turn on their respective occupations. It is so, nor can it be otherwise ; for that which is strongest, that which is based on the largest number of traces in our soul must be the easiest to rise into consciousness. And this is the case with all men as respects notions relating to their daily occupations : such are nearest to consciousness (see p. 207). Now since our psychical forms can only be made conscious by the addition of movable elements, we see that these movable elements flow to or are at- tracted in the largest amount by those psychical forms which are strongest in the soul, or which rest on the largest number of traces. Compare on this §§ 73 — 75. This explains the phenomena instanced above. In the child's soul, there are as yet no forms based on nu- merous traces, and hence the movable elements are not par- ticularly attracted by any, consequently their original powers are § 83.] Separation of Soul and Body. 265 free and open to the influence and reception of external stimulants^ they abandon themselves to such. In the boy the strength of his psychical forms is already considerably greater, and there- fore the movable elements are far more attracted to them, and to rendering them conscious, and are in the same proportion drawn away from external impressions. Briefly : The more the psychical forms increase in the number of their traces {in strength)^ the more are the movable elements applied to rendering them con- sciouSf and the more they are withdrawn from the reception of fresh impressions. Hence, the man of mature age is far more disposed to elaborate and use what he already knows, than to apply himself to acquire new information, or aptitudes; whilst the old man has almost entirely broken with the external world, he lives rather in the past than in the present. Therefore, the strength of the internal substance of the soul, which increases as we grow older, ipso facto produces a decrease in the formation of new feelings and per- ceptions. But still more follows from it. We are aware not merely that the movable elements consist of void original powers and of in- ternal stimulants, (either quite vague and general, or only loosely appropriated) (§ 30), but also that the former (the original powers) are formed by some mysterious transformation out of a portion of that stimulant which is taken up and still remains movable, that consequently the newly-produced feelings and perceptions (§82) must be regarded as the special centre and place where fresh ori- ginal powers are formed. Now what must happen when the larger number of these original powers are no longer able to take up stimulants, in consequence of having been exhausted by bringing into consciousness those forms which are now more abundant in traces, and which therefore call for a larger amount of the movable elements ? It was proved in the last § that a total exclusion of external stimulants must produce a total cessation in the formation of fresh original powers ; consequently, both sources of the movable elements must gradually dry up, in proportion as a larger num- ber of original powers are applied to this purpose : external 266 Separation of Soul and Body. [§ ^3* stimulants are taken up in « decreasing amount^ and as a con- sequence, fresh original powers are only formed in smaller numbers. But more than that. It is an almost universal fact that old people complain of the badness of their memory (§§7 and 75). They have a complete and clear recollection of what they saw and did thirty, forty, or fifty years ago, but what they saw and heard just now they often forget after the briefest interval. According to this, the original powers generated in old age are not only less numerous, but also less tenacious. Thus each cir- cumstance helps the other : external stimulants are taken up in continually decreasing numbers, and the body also which has become deadened and decayed is continually less able to assist in the forma- tion of new psychical powers. What other result then can follow, than that the movable elements should constantly become less, and that one hind of them (the original powers) should become con- tinually more and more imperfect ? Now if the internal nature of our soul is excited and rendered conscious by these movable elements, ought we to wonder that when they decrease the current of thought is less rapid, less comprehensive, or that at last the most cultivated soul retains in conscious existence but a few scattered psychical forms ""P In this consists the Idiocy of age. It is, therefore, not in the least a consequence of any decrease in the strength of the internal substance of the soul (of its forms), but is rather an effect of its continually increasing strength. Experience confirms this conclusion by numerous cases. Thus we are told of Kant, '' that at the time of his greatest weakness, when he was unable to express himself intelligibly about the commonest things, he gave astonishingly correct and precise an- swers when questioned about matters of physical geography, natural history and chemistry, as well as about learned subjects in general." Kow, if the internal substance of his soul had been affected by "^ Law : a psychical form can only be consciovs when and for so long as it is excited, (see p. 190). § 83-] Separation of Soul and Body. 267 this weakness, how would such answers have been possible ? Must not the more difficult have been destroyed before the easy ? And yet we see that, notwithstanding his extreme weakness in other respects, it was exactly the most difficult that was mani- fested with its wonted strength and clearness, although he was unable to give any account of objects around him which he had only seen the minute before, &c. Is not this astounding ? Not in the least : it only proves that the powers which were then generated in him were' very weak, so weak, indeed, that im- pressions just made were either not retained by them at all, or only so feebly that he could not attain to a consciousness of them. But few aged men retain their mental vigour till within a short period before death, because few enjoy such a happy constitution of body that it causes no essential diminution in the elements which excite the soul. In most men, when arrived at old age, there is a progressive decrease in the power of taking up light, sound, &c., because the organs of sensation get less and less able to perforin their functions and to assist the soul in its. We have, then, arrived at these conclusions : I*, that the soul constantly increases in internal strength up to the moment of death ; 2°. that this very increase in strength produces a constant dimi- nution in the movable elements (original powers and stimulants), and that, consequently, 3°. the alternation of consciousness (not consciousness itself, § 7 1 ) «5 more and more impeded^ until at lasty when the formation of fresh psychical powers is brought to a stand-still by the same cause, it stops altogether , and the soul abandons the body in the society of which it is no longer able to increase its powers, and, consequently, is unable to make any progress. This is that death which is necessitated hy nature; death from disease requires no explanation. In both cases, however, the man dies; not 'be- cause life (a special vital force) leaves him,' but because the soul leaves the body, though in so doing the soul by no means ceases to live. 268 Separation of Soul and Body. [§^3* What reason, then, is there for holding the continued exist- ence of the soul after death ? Its constant increase in strength up to the moment of death. The body grew, was consolidated in consequence of the in- crease in the number of its traces, but then it again became weak, and both processes took place gradually. It gradually increased, and as gradually decreased. Is not this last circum- stance very strange ? IN'o ; we are not astonished to find that, in accordance with the laws which constructed it, it grows less, and at last crumbles into dust. For as the increase of its powers, unlike that of the soul, implies increase in space, and since the limit of external lullc is reached, at the latest, at the age of twenty-five, a limit which it is impossible for it to transcend^, it necessarily follows that, as it never ceases to grow, i.e. to form traces, it must increase in solidity (§ 8i) ; since these traces,' as they are accumulated, press more closely one on the other. This explanation is justified by the fact, that the desire for food and drink and digestion continue, though not with the same strength, as a rule, up to the most advanced period of life : this would not have been the case if the body, when formed, merely required to be preserved. The elements which vanish day by day might be replaced by a considerably less amount of food than we are compelled to take. The necessary consequence, then, of all this is, that the organ- ized parts of the body (the limbs), which are formed out of these traces, gradually grow harder and ossify, by which their nutri- tion (formation, acquisition of fresh movable powers) is gradu- * As the size of the several members of the body, e.g. the eyes, ears, hands, fingers, &c., is fixed beforehand (predetermined) in that innate con- stitution with which we are created* — a limitation which can never be transcended — so for the body, as a whole, is determined beforehand what degree of extension it shall inevitably reach, and disease alone can cause any change in it. * [" Wie im Angebornen vorherbestimmt (pradeterminirt) ist, welches Mass der Grosse die einzelnen Glieder des Leibes .... annehmen sollen." He means that, from the very first moment of our existence in the womb, the size, shape, number, &c., of our limbs is, in some way or other, fore-ordained. He holds a kind of physical predestination, only limited by disease, itself predestined]. § 83.] Separation of Soul and Body. 269 ally diminished; because, though the soft appropriates and assimilates the fluid with ease, yet the hard, being dissimilar from the fluid, is constantly less capable of doing so. By this process of hardening it loses its power of retaining movable ele- ments : the body becomes constantly poorer in fluid elements, and therefore lighter in weight. Hence, the formation of bodily traces and powers, thoitgh it never quite ceases, proceeds at a slower rate and less perfectly ; and this is the reason why, in our later years, sleep diminishes more and more (see § 76), and simul- taneously a decrease of appetite takes place. In particular it is the brain that shrivels up more and more, and loses its power of supporting the soul. The final result of this must be, to render the body a perfectly useless tool or minister for the soul, which can derive no more assistance from the constituents of it now that they have become so rude and coarse. It depends on the peculiar combination between the properties of its powers, or, in other words, on the temperament of the body (see § 80), whether this result follows at an earlier or later period (in ex- treme old age), though the temperament of the psychical powers must have an important influence on it as well. The separation, then, of the soul from the body is a necessary result, but it takes place only because we are always growing, i.e. are always forming fresh traces both in soul and in body. As the rising and setting of the sun is the result of one and the same law, the law that the earth revolves on its axis ; as summer and winter are pro- duced by the one immutable law that the earth revolves round the sun, so also the rise and decay of corporeal perfection de- pends on one and the self-same law, that of growth. Since this luw incessantly operates in body and soul alike ; since it never varies, never gives place to another; since, moreover, the che- mical laws, ta which matter is subject, remain invariably the same, it follows that their results must gradually become more and more different, and chemical agency, which was at first our friend, must necessarily hecome more and more our enemy (see p. 243). This agency continually renders the body more dry and brittle, less elastic, because continually poorer in fluid elements, and hence it must gradually become less vigorous, more weak 270 Sepa/ration of Soul and Body, [§^3* and perishable, so that at last death must result on the side of the body (compare p. 267). But the soul also grew, and became continually stronger and stronger^ yet without in the least extending itself locally : what can dissolve and destroy it when it separates from the body? The separation and dissolution of its own constituent parts alone could prove its death and annihilation ; its separation from the body does not kill it. Experience, of course, does not enable us to give a more precise account of the matter, and we freely allow that the immortality of the soul does not admit of being proved as the correctness of a sum in arithmetic does. For all that, however, we can never grant that we are justified in estimating the fate of the soul from that of the body, or of material forces in general, seeing that it really consists of totally different powers from theirs. At last the question comes to this, whether God designs to preserve our soul or not ? Eut all the facts of ex- perience cry aloud that He does design it. Even the one fact, that He elevates the soul over all present existences, not by making it grow weaker, but stronger, must convince every unprejudiced person that such is His intention. Or are we to say that the soul will perish because it is not simple, but infinitely complex } Every one who thinks with clearness must allow that it would be far easier to destroy the former than the latter, in case the Al- mighty designed to destroy it at all : human experience, at least, shews that while one arrow may be easily broken, a bundle of them may bid defiance to the greatest strength ; and that a fibre of wood is destructible in a manner very different from that in which a stem consisting of millions of fibres is. No doubt the soul developes only in the society of a body destined to support it, and we have no knowledge of any soul capable, as God is, of existing without a body ; and hence it might seem that on losing its body the soul must necessarily be dissolved. But the soul supports and bears the body much more than the body supports and bears the souly ; and as the body acts as a support to it, so. y He who desire" to live to a good old age must preserve his mental calm- ness j and he who dies, as people sa^, ' of a broken heart,' is one whose death §83.] Sepa/ration of Soul and Body, 271 in many cases, it impedes and perturbs it to such an extent as to produce madness. May we not justly infer from this, that the soul will meet with a happier lot, as soon as it can get loose from its doubtful companion, * the body ? * At the s ime time, these disturbances in the body are never disturbances for the soul, for healthy psychical life returns in a moment, when the material cause of the disturbance is removed ; and there are in- stances where madmen, after long years of derangement, have recovered their sound, clear consciousness a short time before their death. The inference from all this is, that it is completely inconceivable that the material body can cause the death of the soul ; whether we regard merely the loss of the body, or any in- fluence which it may be supposed to exercise on the soul during our last moments. Indeed, we have, in this respect, nothing to fear from the material. Is it possible that the unextended can be annihilated by the extended, at a moment when the former no longer possesses any powers capable of being affected by the latter ? Is it not the original powers of the s )ul alone which are susceptible to sensible material impressions ? And as the soul is still able to grow when the brain decreases with age, and loses in bulk and weight ; since, moreover, as we saw at the end of § 75, the results of seeing and hearing still continue after eyes and ears have been destroyed ; since, lastly, large portions of the brain have been found destroyed, without any sign during life of any impediment or disturbance in mental functions, — ^how can we regard the immortality of the soul as imperilled, when, in addition to these nobler parts, it loses in death those which are less noble ? AU that it requires for new life, i.e. new activity, is simply new sources of exciting and supporting elements, which the Creator will then give it, and then it becomes again the same soul that it was before, beautiful or ugly, good or bad, rich or poor, according to the development which it had attained to here below. was caused by his soul. Terror and exaggerated joy, when they kill, kill always through the soul. " Sorrow and care make us old before our time.'* From examples like these, one may see clearly how greatly the body is de- pendent on the souL 272 Recapitulation. [§ 84. As to the circumstances under which this renewed life of the soul will take place, we can, at best, form no more than guesses and conjectures ; but this much is beyond dispute, that develop- ment and progress will be as little denied it there as here, and that that progress can only tend to ennoble it. The acquisition of fresh, original powers will certainly then be effected better, and with greater ease, than in this world, since its future cir- cumstances will, at any rate, furnish it with better materials than it could obtain here. Let us wait hopefully; we shall know all this by-and-by. § 84. Recapitulation. I. The Original Powers of the Human Soul. The human soul is distinguished from the body, and from all other forces upon earth, by its unextendedness and higher strength and tenacity. On Force and Matter (§ 81). Moreover, on this higher tenacity of the psychical powers depends the rise of consciousness (§ 71), and the rationality of the human soul (which, at a later period, leads to Eeason), a special quality, distinguishing it from all brute souls (§ 79), and in a no less degree the perfection of its Memory (§ 75). Greater Vivacity produces more perfect Recollection, whereas greater Sensibility leads to greater power of Imagination (§ 75). The various modes in which the three different qualities of the origi- nal powers are combined, produce general differences in men's developed psychical character : on these combinations depends what is called Temperament, and as such combinations are infi- nitely various, so are men's temperaments endlessly diverse. What truth is there, then, in the old division of all tempera- ments mto four classes ? (§ 80.) If psychical forms are aroused into consciousness merely by void original powers, the result is voluntary consciousness (§ 72). What are involuntary sugges- tions ? (§74-) II. Stimulants of the External World. Those stimulants which are not permanently appropriated by the original powers, are, by some secret and mysterious trans- formation, converted during sleep into fresh original powers. § 84.] Recapitulation. 273 The amount of freshly formed powers varies always in pro- portion to the amount of such stimulants appropriated, so that, if they are totally withheld or not taken up, there is a total cessation in the formation of fresh psychical powers (§§ 82 and Z^). If any psychical form is excited into consciousness purely hy internal or external stimulants, it is said to hecome conscious involuntarily (§ 72). Why is it that external stimu- lants are more certain to excite consciousness than is the case with the internal and void original powers? (§ 72). Memory, Recollection, and Imaginary Notions are more perfect in pro- portion as the stimulant producing the psychical form is more perfect and full (§75). III. The Fundamental Laws Regulating the Development of the Soul. 1. The Law of the Appropriation of Stimulants. It is thus expressed : The Soul forms sensuous feelings and perceptions in consequence of the impressions or stimulants which it receives from without. With this is connected the universal law, that whatever is pro- duced in the soul with any approach to perfection continues to exist in it as a Trace. These are the two laws, without which neither Memory, nor Recollection, nor Imagination (§ 75), nor increase in strength (§ 2>:^), nor any permanence in the soul, would he possible (§§82 and Z^), just as it would be impossible that the bodily forces should continue unless they appropriated external forces (food), and the latter were retained. The same laws pre- vail also in the body (§ 81). 2. The Law of the mutual Attraction of Similars. It is thus expressed : All products of a like hind attract each other ^ and as a conse- quence fuse into a whole. By this, consciousness becomes constantly clearer and clearer (§ 71), all psychical forms grow stronger, and hence, more per- manent and less easy to be lost (§ 75). Concepts engender con- stantly higher concepts, and we arrive at what we call Reason (§ 79) • ^y this, in particular, the subjectively homogeneous (the T 274 Recapitulation. [§ ^4* merely similar powers) in the internal processes of the soul fuse into special concepts, which (as '* internal senses") cause internal perception (§ 77) ; hy this, moreover, the concept of I, or the Ego, which never leads to selfishness, arises out of the notion of self (§ 78) : in one word, this law collects and reduces to order whatever enters the soul in ohedience to the first law. The same law plays a no less important part in the develop- ment of the body (§ 8j). 3°. The Law of the Disappearance of Stimulants. It is thus expressed : A portion of the Stimulant which is {not firmly) appropriated perpetually disappea/rs from the original powers. It may be asked whether what disappears vanishes from the Soul. That which is actually taken up certainly does not do so : on the contrary, the stimulants which afterwards get loose from the traces, besides forming a portion of the movable ele- ment (§ 30), are also applied to the acquisition of fresh original powers (§ 82). Hence this law, so far as it causes stimulants to become movable, coincides with the next. In the body it pre- vails also (§ 81), only that then what vanishes is deposited in the external world. 4°. The Law of the Diffusion of the Movable Ele- ments. It is thus expressed : While we are awahe the movable powers are perpetually trans- planted from one 'psychical form to another ; they are diffused {transferred) over them, and thus act as connecting elements. Thus is produced the constant alternation of consciousness in the Soul (§ 71), which follows the direction in which the several psychical forms were previously connected most intimately with each other, and rendered one by the fixture of the movable ele- ments (§ 73). Laws of Association (§ 74) : thus also is pro- duced Attention (§§ 71 and 73), and that defective conscious- ness of series and groups of forms during sleep, which we call 'dreaming' (§ 76); it is thus that those forms are connected together which constitute our notion (perception) of ourselves (§ 78) ; it is thus that groups -and series of forms of the most extensive kind are formed, having for their objects our internal § 84.] Recapitulation. 275 and external processes (§§ 77 and 79). As this law also pre- vails in bodily developments, it explains the reciprocal action of Soul and Body (§81), the body being not mere dead matter, but instinct with living forces in divers degrees. 50. The Law of the Acquisition of Fresh Original Powers. It is thus expressed : Soul and Body are continually forming fresh powers identical in nature with those which they originally possessed. They are acquired mainly during sleep. For sleep essentially consists in the preponderance of the bodily powers of appropria- tion over mental developments, the latter being at that time de- ficient in the movable elements necessary to render them con- scious (§ 76). Where the largest number of original powers have been used up, there the largest number of fresh ones are formed both in soul and body. The original powers of the Soul are produced by some mys- terious transformation out of that portion of the stimulant received which remains unfixed and movable, just as the forces of the body are engendered out of the external materials (forces) prepared in the stomach and intestines ; and hence the newly- produced sense-feelings and perceptions must be regarded as the pecial centre and focus where fresh psychical original powers are formed. Since during our waking hours stimulants are used for the purpose of supporting consciousness, it follows that they must be transformed into new powers, for the most part during sleep. — The powers of the body also contribute their share to the formation of fresh psychical powers. The original powers of the soul are formed from the first singly^ one apart from the other y and all that belong to one class (system) are, as regards their magnitude (strength) and qualities, completely similar one to another. Since, however, in proportion as psychical forms become stronger, they attract a greater number of void original powers to enable them to become conscious, which causes a correspond- ing diminution in the number of external stimulants taken up ; since, moreover, the forces of the body, as life proceeds, become continually more stiff, and prone to decay, and therefore con- 276 Recapitulation. [§ 84. stantly less able to contribute to the acquisition of fresh original powers, it follows that with increasing age the formation of them gradually diminishes, the fresh original powers become progres- sively less in number and weaker in force. This is the cause of that Idiocy which often accompanies old age ^, and of the final and necessary separation of soul and body (§§ 82 and 83). What reason is there to believe that the soul continues to exist after Death? (§ 83.) The five laws above enunciated as the Fundamental Laws of the human soul (see the note on p. 52) lead to derivative and secondary laws, in so far as they operate afresh upon that which was produced in accordance with them. The new results pro- duced from what was previously gcD crated constantly assume new forms, and they are a necessary result of these laws of development. Take, for instance, the derivative law of the strengthening of consciousness depending on the fundamental law of the coalition of the homogeneous (p. 22); the derivative law of the formation of Feelings ; of the connexion of forms by movable elements, &c. What is the difference between Porce and Law? (see the note on p. 52). The fundamental laws of bodily development can only be clearly known and understood from an acquaintance with the laws of the soul (§ 81). The remark made at the end of the third part (p. 179) is jus- tified by the conclusions at which we have arrived here, viz. that the powers within us which think, judge, infer, fancy, will, feel, &c., are no others than those which at the very first, saw, heard, felt, &c., only that they are differently applied and modi- fied, and the general result is, that the developed human soul is a product of simple original powers, and of that which has affected them and been permanently/ retained by them. ' There is congenital idiocy, as well as idiocy which is the result of disease; both are to be distinguished from that mentioned in the text, and depend on other causes. On congenital idiocy, see p. 70, and Beneke's Lehrbuch der Psycho)., § 395, sqq. .. ^ Of THE ^ A ^^UNIVERSlTy j\ PKIKTElJ"^^^^ Ipg^^^Vfer-p,^, CEOWN-TARD, OXFORD, EDUCATIONAL WORKS PUBLISHED BT JAMES PAEKEE AND 00. OXFORD, AND 377, STRAND, LONDON. A SERIES OF GREEK AND LATIN CLASSICS FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS. 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