THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Professor 
 Edna W. Bailey 
 
ijy^ 
 
AN 
 
 OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN 
 
 OR, 
 
 SCIje Sobs anb ittinb in one Ss^^^i^- 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIVE DIAGRAMS, AND A METHOD FOB 
 BLACKBOARD TEACHING. 
 
 BT 
 
 MARK HOPKINS, D.D., LL. D. 
 
 AUTHOE OP "evidences OF CHRISTIANITY," " LECTUEES ON SIOEAL 
 SCIENCE," "the law OF LOVE," ETC. 
 
 REVISED EDITION. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 
 
 1896 
 
Copyright, 1878, 
 Br SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG AND COMPANY 
 
 Copyright, 1886, 
 Bl CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 
 
 GIFT 
 
V- 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ♦— 
 
 LECTURE L 
 The Place or Man 1 
 
 LECTURE IL 
 The Body 26 
 
 LECTURE IIL 
 Mind. — Intellect. — The Reason 50 
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 ►The Reason. — The Senses, External and Internal . 73 
 
 LECTURE V. 
 
 Recapitulation. — Consciousness. — Theories, Be- 
 liefs, AND Practical Results 98 
 
 LECTURE VI. 
 
 The Representative Faculty. — Control op the 
 Will over the Mental Current . . . .121 
 
 LECTURE VIL 
 
 The Elaborative Faculty, and its Processes. — Con- 
 cepts AND their Properties 145 
 
 LECTURE Vni. 
 
 Reasoning. — Analogy and Experience. — Demonstra- 
 tion AND Probable Reasoning. — Inferring and 
 Proving. — Systemization 172 
 
 04.7 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE IX. 
 
 The Sensibility. — A Good. — Beauty. — The Lc- 
 DicRODS. — Tuii Affective Reason .... 194 
 
 LECTURE X. 
 
 Intellect, Sensibility, and Will. — The Practical 
 Reason. — Personality, Cacsation, Freedom, Obli- 
 gation, Merit and Demerit, Rights, Responsibil- 
 ity, Punishment 221 
 
 LECTURE XL 
 
 Body; Soul; Spirit. — Spontaneity; Freedom. — The 
 Natural; Supernatural; Miraculous. — Conduct; 
 Obligation ; A Supreme End ; Character. — The 
 Highest Good; The Whole Good; The Law of 
 Limitation 248 
 
 LECTURE XII. 
 
 Original Objects. — Action and its Consequences. 
 
 — Philosophy of Action from the Constitution. 
 No Christian Moral Philosophy. — Choice. — Su- 
 preme Ends. — Supreme Principle of Action. — 
 Conscience. — A Nature and a Necessity after 
 Choice. — Moral Affections. — Moral Emotions. — 
 Religious Emotions. — The Law of Construction. 
 
 — The Law of Conduct. — Test of Progress. — 
 Position of Man as a Worshipper .... 27.5 
 
 Appendix 302 
 
 Explanation of the Diagram 313 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Afl compared with their delivery the following 
 lectures are published at a special disadvantage. 
 For their best effect they need blackboard and 
 drawing facilities, like those of the LoweU Insti- 
 tute. Through those the work done was retained 
 and kept before the audience ; each subject waa 
 commented upon as it found its place in the sys- 
 tem and on the board, and thus the system grew 
 before the eye as well as before the mind, till it be- 
 came for both a completed whole. This gave a 
 freshness and interest that could have been had in 
 no other way. 
 
 The substance of the lectures was preserved in 
 a phonogi'aphic report. This, it was found, would 
 be of 80 much aid in writing them out that the 
 form of lectures and the phraseology appropri- 
 ate to them hsfve been retained, though the refer- 
 ences to the board were so many and of such a 
 character that a recast of many portions has been 
 {ound necessary. As read, the lectures would 
 
M PREFACE. 
 
 •carcely convey a correct impression of the extent 
 to which the board waa used. 
 
 The method of teaching an abstract subject 
 other than Mathematics through the eye has long 
 been practiced in Logic, but until recently has 
 been chiefly confined to that. So far as I know, 
 the first to apply it generally and with success 
 was my friend Mr. Dickinson of the Westfield 
 Normal School. This is not object-teaching. 
 That consists in showing the object itself, but this 
 is the teaching of relations, which are invisible, 
 by means of things that are visible. This facili- 
 tates the holding of abstract subjects steadily be- 
 fore the mind, and I cannot but hope a good deal 
 from it in the way of popularizing studies of this 
 kind. 
 
 Perhaps it was not wise to attempt the discus- 
 sion of so many and such disputed points within a 
 compass so limited, but an outline has its advan- 
 tages for both the teacher and the learner, and 
 that is all that this claims to be. Besides, meta- 
 physical points are capable of being stated briefly, 
 and are often best seen when thus stated. Like 
 that Genius in the Arabian Nights who was con- 
 ned in a jar drawn out of the sea by a fisher- 
 man, they are capable of being brought into a 
 
PREFACK Vll 
 
 very narrow compass, as well as of expanding into 
 proportions vast, misty, and mighty. 
 
 The method of the work is constructive, and so, 
 except as a positive and progressive system must 
 be, not critical or controversial. It gives a La'W 
 OF Construction for the universe so far as we 
 know it, by which the whole, including man, is 
 brought into one system. It gives a Law op 
 Conduct for man that grows out of the construc- 
 tion ; and also a Law OF Limitation that 
 enables us, as is shown in " The Law of Love," to 
 carry the Law of Conduct into the details of life. 
 
 In connection with this method the Intuitions 
 are naturally divided into three kinds, and are 
 presented in an order different from that gener- 
 ally followed. Part of them are also seen to be 
 complex, and in connection with their complexity, 
 systems that have been supposed to be opposed 
 are readily reconciled. 
 
 In following out the system, and in turning 
 jtrom books to the investigation of the subjects 
 themselves, I have found myself differing more 
 frequently and more widely from those who are 
 regarded as authorities than I expected. Such 
 difference will be found not only in regard to the 
 nature and place of the Intuitions, but in regard 
 
VHl PREFACE. 
 
 to Conflciousiiess, to Perception, to varioujs doo 
 trines of Logic, to the central position of Choice, 
 and to the nature and necessity that precede and 
 follow that as they are related to Choice and to 
 each other. The work will, therefore, be found 
 to differ from others, both in its Method and its 
 System. If these are correct, errors of detail will 
 be of minor consequence. 
 
 Whatever may be its fate, I shall be content ii 
 this work shall awaken in the community a wider 
 interest in the study of man, — of man in his 
 unity so marvellously complex, as he is related to 
 the universe around him, to his fellow-men, and 
 to God. 
 
 N. B. The diagrams which will be found in 
 the follovdng Lectures are to be read from the. 
 bottom upwards ; and the reader will bear in mind 
 that, in the use of the diagrams and of the black- 
 board, the process is always that of starting witb 
 ii common foundation and building up. 
 
AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 THE PLACE OF MAN. 
 
 Is it possible to present the most abstract and 
 difficult questions of metaphysics so that they 
 shall be interesting and profitable to a popular 
 audience? I think it is. I think so partly be- 
 cause, as these questions naturally suggest them- 
 selves to every man, so the elements for theii 
 solution are found in every man ; and partly from 
 an experiment which I made here four years ago, 
 and from my experience since. 
 
 I was aware at that time that some of my lec- 
 tures, especially those on the foundation of obliga- 
 tion, would require more careful attention than 
 could reasonably be expected from a popular au- 
 dience; therefore, anticipating that the audience 
 would be small, I consulted Mr. Lowell on the 
 expediency of permitting, as had been my custom 
 with classes in college, questions from the audi- 
 ence. Tt did not seem to him expedient, and I 
 have no doubt he was right. Then, being averse 
 1 
 
2 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 to fiaj^ig an}i;liing that could not be perfectly un- 
 derstood, and seeing a blackboard beliind me, I 
 laid aside my manuscript and gave three or four 
 lectures on the more abtruse points T\ith the aid of 
 that. This was thought to be a success^ and 1 
 have so far followed the method since as to desire 
 to test it further ; for if these studies can be popu- 
 larized, it will be a public benefit. 
 
 It will, then, be my first object in the following 
 course to present this class of subjects so that 
 they can be readily understood by any one who 
 will give attention. I believe in no transcen- 
 dental metaphysics which are not capable of be- 
 ing communicated in good English, and of being 
 understood by any man of good common sense. 
 
 A second object will be to present man in hia 
 unity. ^lan is so complex, so many studies origi- 
 nate from him, that he is seldom studied except 
 In a fragmentary way. Anatomy, Physiology, 
 Psychology, Logic, Morals, are studied separately, 
 and with little reference to their relation to each 
 ftther. 
 
 I shall also wish to present at different pointa 
 views of my own which I think in some measure- 
 new, and not without importance. In one senst 
 nothing on these subjects can be new. There car 
 be no new elements, but the elements may b( 
 presented in new relations; they may be more 
 carefully discriminated, and, perhap \ hp\fer ^^ 
 ranged. 
 
UNORGANIZED AND ORGANIZED BODIES. 8 
 
 We pass, then, to the study of man. And first 
 let us find his place. This we can do only as we 
 separate man from other beings and objects. In 
 making this separation I observe that all beings 
 and__objficts- that fall under our observation are 
 divided into two great classes — they are either 
 unorganized or organized. Let us look at some 
 of the differences between these, most of which 
 have been noticed by physiologists. 
 
 Unorganized and organized bodies differ, first, 
 in their origin. 
 
 \ Organized bodies originate in a germ, a seed,^ 
 a spore, a cell, in something that is itself organ 
 
 ized. It is now generally, though hot universally,' 
 conceded by naturalists that there is no such thing 
 as spontaneous generation. Between life and or- 
 ganization there is a relation of interdependence, 
 as between the different parts of a circle. They 
 imply each other in a way that seems to necessi- 
 tate a simultaneous origin, and from a higher 
 
 [power. Organization could not first be without 
 life, and life could have no means of manifestation 
 
 ' without organization. It is said, indeed, that there 
 18 living matter that is not organized. It has been 
 Baid that the amoeba is a mere mass of unorgan- 
 ized jelly, but that is now disproved ; and the as- 
 sertion that anything has life, or can be made to 
 have it, that is not either organized or the product 
 of organization, be it protoplasm or what it may, 
 18 a mere assumption. 
 
4 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Unorganized and organized bodies differ, in the 
 second place, in their composition. f 
 
 Unorganized bodies may be simple, having no 
 1 composition properly so called, but simply aggre- 
 igation. They may have two or more elements. 
 iln organized bodies there are always three ele-j 
 iments, one of which is carbon. 
 I Unorganized and organized bodies differ, in the 
 'third place, in their structure. | 
 
 Organized bodies have cellular and vascular 
 tissues. They consist of parts performing func- 
 tions through which those parts are mutually re- 
 lated to each other and to the whole. These parts 
 cannot be wholes, while any part of a mass of sil- 
 ver is as much a whole as the whole is. An arm 
 is not and cannot be a whole in any such sense as 
 that. In an organized body the parts are mutually 
 related as means and ends. In an unorganized 
 body there is no such relation. 
 
 In the fourth place, unorganized and organized 
 bodies differ in their mode of preservation. 
 
 In unorganized bodies the individual is preserved 
 as long as the species. In organized bodies the in- 
 dividual perishes and the species only is preserved. 
 In the one there is a growth and decay from ac- 
 tivities within ; in the other there is no growth and 
 QO decay, and all changes are by the operation of 
 agencies from without. There is simply aggrega. 
 tion and disintegration by the action of external 
 forces. In the one there is health and disease, in 
 the other there is nothinor of the kind. 
 
UNORGANIZED AND ORGANIZED BODIES. 5 
 
 Once more, these bodies differ in tlieir Motive 
 I Forces. 
 
 In unorganized bodies certain general forces, as 
 gravitation and cohesion and chemical affinity, are 
 the forces that produce motion. But in organized 
 i bodies there is a force commonly known as Life, 
 that coordinates the action of the parts with ref- 
 erence to the end of the whole. This is a crucial 
 test as between organized bodies and those that 
 are not. In an unorganized body there is no end 
 of the whole within itseK, so that well-being or the 
 reverse can be affirmed of it. 
 
 There is also another such test that is worthy of 
 attention as opposed to the ^orts now made to 
 identify the processes of crystallization with those 
 of life. In all upbuilding by Hfe there is first, not 
 only a selection of the material, but a preparation 
 of it, and then a placing of it where it is needed 
 Hence the movement of the material is from 
 within outward, which is never the case under any 
 lower force, and this movement is by a force which 
 preserves the identity of the being while its ma- 
 terials are changed. We have, then, as discrimi- 
 nating the organic from the inorganic force, first, the 
 preparation of the material ; second, its movement 
 from within outward, or from the point where it is 
 prepared to that where it is needed. This is the 
 beginning of a reverse movement, of a new order 
 of things in which the process is not by aggrega- 
 tion or evolution or development, but by growth 
 
b AN OUTLINE STUEY OF MAN. 
 
 And third, there is identity of the being with 
 change of the material. 
 
 I have thus mentioned the main differences be- 
 tween unorganized and organized bodies. By 
 these they are sufficiently distinguished. Now 
 man is organized. 
 
 Leaving, then, unorganized matter we pass on in 
 our analysis of what we see around us and observe 
 that organized bodies are divided into two great 
 classes — Vegetables and Animals. These have 
 much in common in tliose functions that are called 
 organic, but they differ, — 
 
 First, in their composition. 
 
 For the most part they thus differ, though there 
 are individual exceptions. For the most part ani- 
 mal organizations consist of a greater number of 
 elements. Nitrogen is added. In the vegetable- 
 oxygen, h^^drogen, and carbon are always present, 
 with little nitrogen. In the animal, nitrogen is 
 more abundant. Hence animal substances . may 
 generally be distinguished by the peculiar smell, 
 as of burnt feathers, which is produced by the 
 burning of bodies which have nitrogen in them. 
 
 Vegetables and animals differ, in the second 
 place, in their structure. 
 
 A vegetable has no muscles. It has no nerves 
 3r nervous tissue. 
 
 They differ, again, in their mode of nutrition. 
 
 Vegetables have the power, and animala have 
 
VEGETABLES AND ANIMALS. 7 
 
 not, of obtainmg nourishment from unorgan- 
 ized matter. There are instances of vegetables, as 
 the mushroom and certam parasitic plants that are 
 nourished by matter that has been the product of 
 organization, but there is no well estabhshed in- 
 stance of an animal that is nourished by matter 
 that has not been organized. This power of the 
 vegetable to find its nourishment in unorganized 
 matter is regarded by some as its great character- 
 istic. Certainly it is the great function and use of 
 the vegetable world to come between animals and 
 unorganized matter, and to prepare materials for 
 their nourishment and use.^ 
 
 The great difference, however, between vegeta- 
 bles and animals is, that animals have, and vege- 
 tables have not, sensation and voluntary motion. 
 
 We may not be able to discriminate between 
 the sensitive plant and the animal. It is marvel- 
 ous how Nature simulates in that which is lower 
 that which is higher ; how she avoids abrupt and 
 great transitions, and hence some say that there 
 is no difference. It may be impossible for us to 
 draw the line, but there is a line ; there must be. 
 Either there is sensation or there is not. If there 
 be sensation, it is an animal ; if there be not, it 
 is a vegetable. It may be that God only knows 
 where the line is, but there is a line, definite and 
 fixed ; there is a point where you go over to an- 
 other thing, wholly anotner thing, because, when 
 * sensatioE begins it is wnolly another thing. Cer- 
 
 • See Appendix A. 
 
8 AH OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tainly there is a point where there is no sensation, 
 and certainly there is a point where there is sensa- 
 tion, and if we may not be able to draw the line it 
 yet exists, and it is a new thing, altogether different 
 that comes in. And the same thing is true of vol- 
 untary motion. The sensitive plant has motion, 
 but anatomists say this is from irritability, and 
 not from will. The motion is no more voluntary 
 than that of the clouds. Here again there is a line 
 whefier we are able to discern it or not, a radical 
 difference, a new thing that comes in — there is 
 voluntary motion. These two make a difference 
 heaven wide between the vegetable and the 
 animal. 
 
 Now man is an animal, and we next seek the 
 difference, or differences between him and other 
 animals. There are, indeed, those who think 
 that man should not be classed as an animal; 
 and if such classification must imply that he is 
 nothing more, they are right. Man, as man, is 
 not an animal. So far, however, as he has animal 
 characteristics he may be classed as an animal, 
 and if it cannot be shown that he has something 
 more, the classification will be wholly correct. 
 
 First, then, man differs from animals in certain 
 ohysical characteristics. He is the only animal 
 that is clearly both two-handed and two-footed. 
 Hence he is the only animal that is fitted for an 
 erect posture. These two characteristics, — tht * 
 
ANIMALS AND MAN. » 
 
 reieasd of the upper extremity from all use iu 
 locomotion, and his erect position, cause his rela- 
 tions to Nature around and above him to be differ- 
 ent from those of the animals. By the hand he 
 conquers Nature, and by his erect position he 
 Btudies jthe heavens. No animal can do either 
 Man i& also the only animal that has a chin. I 
 believe that is so. I know that Dr. John Augus- 
 tine Smith, with whom I studied medicine, used 
 to say that ; and he said he always thought that 
 when the chin was deficient, there was some defi- 
 ciency in the upper story. 
 
 Again, man differs from mere animals in cer- 
 tain intellectual characteristics. 
 
 Animals have no thought in the sense in which 
 that word is now used. They have no insight 
 properly, that is, no comprehension of the rela- 
 tions of parts when parts are put together so as 
 to make a complex whole. They may generalize 
 faintly, but give no evidence of abstract ideas. 
 They may know that a thing is white, but do 
 not know whiteness. Nor is there any evidence 
 that animals have either necessary or universal 
 ideas in such a sense as to recognize them as 
 necessary and universal. When an animal is 
 driven into a corner, it is not probable that he 
 knows it as an angle ; but if he does, he does not 
 know, and cannot be made to know, that the 
 three angles of every triangle mi(st be equal to 
 two right angles. Whether an animal knows that 
 
10 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN 
 
 he 13 in space may be doubted, but lie does not 
 know that a body must be in space, nor that space 
 must be infinite. Tracking thus tliose necessary 
 ideas wliich constitute man rational, or at least 
 without which he could not be rational, no ani- 
 mal is capable of studying any science as such, 
 or of any rational discourse. In connection -with 
 this it may be stated that man is the only animal 
 that uses either articulate hmguage or arbitrary 
 Bitnis as a means of intercommunication. 
 
 In consequence of these physical and intellect- 
 ual differences — and it is to be said that the 
 physical differences would avail nothing -without 
 the intellectual — man has, and the animal has 
 not, a capacity for progress in the race. Through 
 written and spoken language man can avail him- 
 self of the experience and improvements of the 
 past. This animals cannot do. Each genera- 
 lion begins where the previous one began,, and 
 runs the same round. Tlie bee and the beaver 
 build to-day, under the same conditions, as they 
 did four thousand years ago. If tliere are trans- 
 mitted modifications of instinct it is oidy of those 
 instincts which tend to the preservation of the 
 individual, and of the race. 
 
 In connection wnth his capacity for progress, 
 and for possessing the whole earth, man is the 
 only being that uses fire, or metals, or artificial 
 3lothing, or that invents and uses machinery 
 ^nd what a marvelous difference does this mak<* 
 
POWER TO PRODUCF REMOTE EFFECTS. H 
 
 In our day, this use of machinery ! In connection 
 with this, too, man is the only being capable of 
 buying and selling, of commerce, and of an inter- 
 change of commodities. 
 
 It is further in connection with the powers al- 
 r€iady mentioned that man has the wish and the 
 [^ower to produce remote effects, — effects that 
 are remote from himself both in space and in 
 time. Man alone has this wish and power. The 
 animal produces whatever effects it may produce 
 through the agency of its muscles in the place 
 where it is ; but man has the wish and the power 
 to produce effects upon the other side of the globe. 
 It is a great and distinguishing prerogative of 
 man that he is able, in connection with those 
 agencies which he can control, to cause his will 
 to be felt over the globe and through indefinite 
 periods of time. 
 
 Whether man has emotions not from the moral 
 nature different in kind from those of the brute 
 it is impossible to say with certainty. I think he 
 has. As he alone laughs, so I tliink he alone 
 has the perception and feeling involved in that. 
 Xa he is the only ridiculous animal, so I incline 
 to think he is the only one that has a sense of 
 the ridiculous. 
 
 But whatever may be said of the emotions just 
 mentioned I observe again that man differs froiu 
 all mere animals in possessing a moral and relig- 
 ious nature. 
 
12 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 I know there are those who say that the dog. 
 with perhaps other animals, has a perception of 
 moral relations; and it must be admitted tliat, as 
 in other cases of gradation, there is an appearance 
 of something that approximates it, but is not 
 it. The condition of a moral nature is personal- 
 ity. It is something ^vithin in virtue of which 
 the being becomes, or may become, subject to 
 moral law, of which a brute knows nothing. He 
 is governed by impulse and not by law. The 
 same is true of worship. The brute has not the 
 prerequisites for it, and to identify the feeling of 
 a dog towards his master with that, shows an 
 ignorance of its elements. God is properly an 
 object of worship only as He has moral charac- 
 ter, and the recognition of this must imply a 
 knowledge of moral law, arid of obligation under 
 that law, of which the brute is incapable. Be- 
 sides, true worship can be rendered only to a 
 Bpiritual and invisible God, whereas the brute 
 is incapable of being affected except through the 
 senses. "Whom," says an apostle, "having not 
 seen ye love." No animal can love a being it 
 has never seen, or can love at all on the ground 
 of moral and spiritual excellence. 
 
 But as in passing from the vegetable to the ani- 
 mal we found a single decisive test, so I think we 
 may here A number of tests have been proposed. 
 Some have said that the distinctive difference be- 
 tween man and the animals is the power of fonr.- 
 
POWEB OF CHOICE. 13 
 
 ing general ideas, and of using general terms ; 
 some that It is the power of abstraction, and 
 others that it is the power of looking in upon him- 
 self, and of so making himself the object of his con- 
 templation as to become at once both subject and 
 object. But to me it seems that the discriminat- 
 ing difference is that man has the power to choose 
 his own supreme end and the brute has not. A 
 brute aces from impulse and is driven by its consti- 
 tution to its end. It has no power to compare 
 different motives and principles of action and to 
 make one supreme. It has no power of choice 
 with an alternative in kind, and so no true free- 
 dom. It is not a being that is capable of contem- 
 plating different possible ends of its being and of 
 choosing or rejecting its true end. Man is such a 
 being. Hence man has, and the brute has not, 
 elements by which he may become a fool. A 
 brute cannot be a fool. Only a man can be a 
 fool. There are no elements in a brute by which 
 he can be made a devil ; neither are there any by 
 which he can be made an angel. But man can 
 become a fool, or a devil, or an angel. 
 
 Thus, as I think, do we find man. He is broadly 
 discriminated from all other beings ; so broadly, 
 that he properly belongs to a different order. 
 
 Of man, as thus found, we next inquire wh;^t 
 his place is relatively to other beings. We say 
 that he is higher than any other being. But by 
 
14 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 what test ? If the brute were to make the state- 
 ment would he not say that he was higher ? Is 
 there any proper test by which we can ascertain 
 what is higher and what is lower ? 
 
 Naturalists say that specialization is a test. 
 We find in what are called the lower forms of 
 organization that the functions, as of nutrition and 
 of circulation, are performed without particular or- 
 gans, and that, as the animal becomes higher, the 
 organs are speciahzed, and each function has ita 
 own organs ; and it is generally true that as there 
 is more specialization the animal comes to be 
 higher. At the same time the specialization in tho 
 musquito, for instance, is as perfect as it can be 
 anywhere. There is no more perfect adaptation or 
 specialization in Nature that I know of than in the 
 bill of the musquito. There is a larger amount of 
 specialization in man, but the specialization itself 
 is as perfect in the lower animals as in him. 
 
 But we need a broader principle ; we need one 
 by which we may judge of that which is higher or 
 lower, not merely with respect to animals as they 
 are related to each other, but with respect to the 
 forces of Nature, the faculties of man and their 
 products, and the whole structure of the universe. 
 Such a principle, if there be one, must be thai 
 which gives its unity to the universe. The princi- 
 ple is, that those forces, and forms of being, and 
 faculties, and products, are lower, which are a 
 condition for others that are conditioned upon 
 
CAUSE AND CONDITION. 15 
 
 them. I believe that there is a great law of con- ) 
 / ditioning and conditioned, by which we may know 
 I what is higher and lower throughout the whole 
 ^ange of being. 
 
 But here i* will be necessary to say that I do 
 not accept tne doctrine adopted by both Hamilton 
 and Mill, and also by some of our American 
 writers, that there is no difference between a 
 cause and a condition ; or that the condition of a 
 thing is, in any proper sense, a part of the cause. 
 Sir WiUiam Hamilton says, " By cause I mean 
 everything without which the effect could not be 
 realized." That is his definition of a cause. But 
 a house could not be without materials of some 
 kind of which to construct it ; and I ask you 
 whether, in accordance with any proper meaning 
 of that term, the materials are a part of the cause 
 of a house, or whether they are simply a condition 
 through which it becomes possible that the intelli- 
 gent agency of the builder should be put forth and 
 become a cause. The same may be said of the 
 foundation of a house. Without a foundation a 
 house cannot be, but the foundation is no part of 
 the cause of the house. The earth could not be, 
 we could not be, without space. Space is the con- 
 dition of matter. I ask you whether you beUeve 
 it is in any proper sense its cause. I therefore 
 make a distinction at this point between a cause 
 .md a condition. It is a distinction which I think 
 may De maintained, and which ought to bo main 
 
IG AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tame J in the interest of both clearness of expres- 
 sion and of thought. I say, then, that some things 
 are the condition of other things ; tliat the law of 
 conditioning and conditioned runs through God'a 
 universe ; and that it is that by which we know, or 
 may know, scientifically, that one thing is higher 
 than another. 
 
 Let us then see how this is with reference to the 
 great forces by which the universe is controlled. 
 I epeak of forces, and for the present we must 
 3peak thus whatever may be true of the doctririe 
 of the correlation of forces by which it is possible 
 they may all be resolved into one. Indeed, it 
 matters httle for our purpose whether what we 
 have been accustomed to call the great forces of 
 Nature are really separate forces, or different modes 
 of one force. Leaving this, then, let us suppose, 
 according to the statement of the Bible and the 
 nebular theory, that " In the beginning the earth 
 was without form and void," — mere diffused, 
 nebulous, chaotic, surging matter in space ; what 
 would be the force which must act in order to 
 bring this matter into such a condition that it 
 might serve the purpose of a world ? Evidently it 
 would be the force of Gravitation ; that is to say, it 
 would be that force by which all matter tends to- 
 wards all matter by a certain definite law. It 
 would be necessary that such a force or mode of 
 force should exist and apply itself to every particle 
 of matter in order to its aggregation in such a way 
 
TWO ASPECTS OF MATTER. 17 
 
 hat it could become subject to the action of any 
 Dther force or mode of force. Being thus the con- 
 dition for the action of any other force we may set 
 G-ravitatio7i down as the lowest and most universal 
 of all the forces or forms of force. 
 
 In matter as thus subject to this lowest and most 
 universal law we find those two aspects of it that 
 have set thinkers in opposition to each other aa 
 they have regarded one or the other of them ex- 
 clusively. These are the aspect of necessity; and 
 that of being controlled with reference to an end. 
 The necessity is apparently absolute since there 
 can be nothing in matter to resist the force, and 
 since its movements under this law can be math- 
 ematically calculated. These movements would 
 therefore seem to have not only the necessity that 
 belongs to physical law as uniform, but that abso- 
 lute necessity which is involved in mathematical 
 relations. On the other hand, no evidence of free- 
 dom can be greater than the control of force di- 
 rected to an end : and that matter under the con- 
 trol of this force is so directed there can be no 
 doubt. And so these two aspects or faces of mat- 
 ^r under law have looked, one towards necessity 
 and atheism, and the otlier towards freedom and 
 God, and men have failed to see their reconcihation 
 in the fact that absolute uniformity — even that 
 which may be expressed by mathematical relations 
 — may be the highest and most perfect result of 
 an intelligent will working towards an end which 
 
*8 A^ OUTLINE STUDY OF MAH. 
 
 could be best accomplislied only Lq that way. 
 These two aspects I refer to now because tliey are 
 quite as prominent in tliis lowest law as in any 
 other, and because they present themselves in 
 every form of physical law. 
 
 By gravitation matter is brought together, but 
 aimply as loose particles. That it may be service- 
 able as matter now is, there must be a force which 
 will unite the particles into separate bodies. 
 What is this ? It is the attraction of Cohesion. 
 This exists between the particles of all bodies 
 whether sohd or fluid that can be defined or limited 
 as separate bodies. This would give us a world 
 made up of the different kinds of matter indiscrim- 
 inately mixed, or with kinds separated as in crys- 
 talHzation. 
 
 What force, then, is there by which such indis- 
 criminate mixture may be avoided, and the varie- 
 ties and combinations of matter as we now have 
 them be given us ? It is Chemical Affinity, which 
 is the next higher power as conditioned upon grav- 
 itation and cohesion. Under this^ also, as under 
 cavitation, we have uniformities so perfect that 
 they may be represented by mathematical for- 
 mulae. 
 
 We thus have the three great forces of inor- 
 ganic matter in their order as lower and higher, 
 each one of them being the basis of some form o! 
 physical science. Gravitation gives us. Astronomy 
 with the laws of falling bodies ; Cohesion gives 
 
CEVSTALLIZATION. — VEGETABLE UFE. 19 
 
 as crystallograpliy and portions of mechanics ; and 
 Chemical Affinity gives us the now great science 
 of Chemistry. These laws suffice to themselves. 
 They would produce a permanent world and system 
 of worlds, but these would be of no use except aa 
 A condition of a higher order. That higher order 
 they anticipate and prefigure by producing through 
 crystallization regular forms. In crystallization, 
 and in crystals, through definite form, we find the 
 lowest point of transition from inorganic to organic 
 matter. Here again, too, we find matter con- 
 trolled under the semblance of mathematical neces- 
 sity with reference to ends, — the ends of beauty 
 and of utility. Special mystery is supposed to be 
 attached to the force that gives us organisms, but 
 I do not see that it is more mysterious than that 
 which gives us crystals. Indeed the whole mystery 
 is given in any form of force apparently imper- 
 sonal, whether it can be expressed by mathemat- 
 ical formulae or not, that works so uniformly as to 
 give what we call a law, and to seem necessitated, 
 and yet that works in the interest of ends beyond 
 tself, and that run up into spheres of which, re- 
 garded as impersonal, it can know nothing. 
 
 So these laws work, regarded as the condition of 
 the manifestation and force which is next above 
 them. This is vegetable hfe. These laws being 
 given, and working upon suitable materials, we 
 have the condition on which vegetable life, what- 
 ever that may be, can work. Without them veg- 
 etable life could not be. 
 
20 
 
 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Again, luiving vegetable life given, mediating as 
 it does between inorganic nature and animal life, by 
 converting inorganic matter into food, by absorb 
 Lng superfluous carbon, and by giving out oxygen 
 to supply the waste made by animals, we have the 
 conditions, and the only conditions, on which ani- 
 mal life could be produced and permanently main 
 tained. This then gives us our next higher force 
 — Animal Life. 
 
 But one higher force remains, that is, Rational 
 or Spiritual Life. That an animal life is a neces- 
 sary condition of this in all beings, is not claimed 
 or supposed. But in man it is. Man exists in 
 his present state only as the laws and forces 
 already mentioned are given as a part of himself, 
 and to be subjected under the force of a Rational 
 and Free Will. This gives us Man. 
 
 These forces, their products and relations, may 
 be presented on the board thus, 
 
 
 Man. 
 
 
 
 
 
 Animal Life. 
 
 
 
 Vegetable Life. 
 
 
 
 
 Chemical AflSnity. 
 
 
 
 Cohesion. 
 
 
 1 
 
 Gravitation. 
 
MAN. 21 
 
 In this figure we see the different steps of the 
 creation as it went up, taking with it all that was 
 below, and adding something at every step. At 
 first we have only Gravitation, then Cohesion; but 
 every particle that coheres also gravitates. Then 
 we have Chemical Affinity; but every particle 
 united by that also coheres and gra\itates, and 
 BO on upward till we reach man. In him we 
 find at work Gravitation, Cohesion, Chemical 
 Affinity, that Organic Life which belongs to the 
 vegetable, a Life that is merely animal, and also 
 that higher Rational, Moral, and Spiritual Life, 
 which is pecuhar to himself. Everything is car- 
 ried up, and then something is added — it is 
 not developed from what is below, or caused by 
 it — but added to it till we reach man at the top. 
 Man is there by the possession of everything that 
 is below him, and something more, — that some- 
 thing being that which makes him man. 
 
 Having thus in himself generically all that is 
 below hira, man has the power of entering into 
 sympathy with it ; and then, in virtue of those 
 rational and moral powers, and of that freedom of 
 choice with an alternative in kind which he alone 
 possesses, he has not only the capacity to compre- 
 hend speculatively what is below him, which no 
 animal has in any degree, but also the higlier ca- 
 pacity and the natural right to rule over it. Thus 
 do Philosophy and the Scriptures agree in making 
 the outcome of those faculties by which man is dis- 
 tinguished from the brutes to be dominion. The 
 
22 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 idea of dominion on the part of any brute as origi- 
 nating in comprehension, as exercised in freedom, 
 and as extending over any distance in space, or 
 any period of time, is absurd. 
 
 Looking at the relations of the forces and 
 powers as presented on the board, we see that 
 man has a right to the highest place on two 
 grounds. First, all other things are a condition 
 for him. He is conditioned upon them. They 
 precede him, not arbitrarily, as a herald precedes 
 a king, but in the way of preparation, as soil pre- 
 cedes vegetation, and as vegetable precedes ani- 
 mal life. So far as the creation was a process of 
 upbuilding, that which came last was of course 
 highest. But again, man is also highest because 
 he subordinates all things to his own ends and 
 uses them as they do not use him. Pope says, 
 indeed, — 
 
 " While man exclaims ' see all things for my use, 
 ' See man for mine,' replies a pampered goose.' " 
 
 But though in the ordering of Providence man 
 may be of use to the goose, it is still true that he 
 makes use of the goose, while the goose does not 
 make use of him at all. So of all other animals, 
 and of all natural forces. The earth was given 
 to' man that he might " replenish" and "subdue" 
 it, and make it subservient to his own ends. 
 
 The superiority of man as thus seen is not 
 anomalous. It is wholly analogous to the supe- 
 riority of each higher force to those below it. 
 Each of them makes use of those below as they 
 
HIGHER FORCES NOT DEVFXOPFn). 23 
 
 do not of it; and, indeed, each manifests itself 
 only on the condition of overcoming that which 
 is below it. Cohesion in the wall above ns and 
 in the objects around us, manifests itself only as 
 it overcomes gravitation, holding the parts in their 
 place in opposition to it. If there were as little 
 cohesion among the particles of the wall as there 
 Is in water, it would come down at once. Chem- 
 ical Affinity manifests itself only as overcoming 
 cohesion, and Vegetable I^if e only as overcoming all 
 the three lower forces, separating from their affini- 
 ties and cohesions the particles it needs, bringing 
 them into new relations, and lifting them, in oppo 
 sition to gravitation, a hundred and fifty, yes, in 
 the great trees of California, three hundred and 
 fifty feet into the air. And this holds all the way 
 up. Man acts, as man, chiefly as he resists and 
 overcomes lower forces. 
 
 The above relation of these forces to each other 
 m its bearing on the doctrine of development 
 was, I believe, first seen and stated by President 
 Ohadbourne in his lectures here on Natural The- 
 ology. That bearing is this. It is not readily 
 seen how a force manifesting itself in conjunction 
 with other forces, and yet only as it makes them 
 subservient, can be developed from those forces. 
 It would seem to be making the efl^ect mightier 
 than the cause, and so to be violating that funda- 
 mental law of causation by which for every effect 
 there ia demanded an adequate cause. 
 
24 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 From the figure I luive Jrmvn you will see ho-w 
 it is that the universe gets its unity. It is because 
 each I(j\ver force is a condition for that wlii(;h is 
 above it, and is then taken up and acts in con- 
 junction with the higher. On any other system 
 the forces would be either alien or discordant. 
 
 You will also see how it comes to pass that the 
 structure of the universe, or rather of that part of 
 it with which we are more immediately connected, 
 must be regarded as pyramidal. The sphere of 
 the lowest force is the broadest. There are more 
 bodies affected by Gravitation than by Cohesion, 
 more by Cohesion than by Chemical Affinity, more 
 by Chemical Affinity than by Vegetable Life, more 
 by Vegetable than by Animal Life, and more by 
 Animal Life than are under the dominion of Rea- 
 son, or are possessed of it. 
 
 But wliile this is true, it will be observed that 
 we have here two wholes that are inversely as 
 each other. If, as we go up step by step we 
 diminish the number of individuals so as to form 
 a pyramid in respect to numbers, we add at each 
 step to the number of forces, so that in respect to 
 them man is a greater whole than any below him. 
 These two wholes are analogous to those of exten- 
 sion and comprehension, winch belong to the con- 
 cept, and will be spoken of hereafter. 
 
 I said that I should be glad to present to you 
 man as a unity. You now see what the idea o^ 
 unity 18. It is in contrast with that of a unit 
 
MAN AS A UNITY. 26 
 
 and can i*esult only from some relation of parts 
 that go to form one whole. I propose then to 
 present man as having a unity in himself similar 
 to that which I have now presented to you aa 
 belonging to the universe, and in the next Lecture 
 shall present that unity as it is manifest<ed phys- 
 ically in the different systems of which his body 
 is oomposed. 
 
LECTURE II. 
 
 THE BODY. 
 
 Wb have now separated man from all othei 
 beings and things, and have found his place. Thia 
 last we have done by comparing the great forces of 
 the universe and finding what I called the law of 
 the conditioning and the conditioned. According 
 to this, Gravitation, the most universal of the forces, 
 is the condition for the others, and so the lowest. 
 Next above is Cohesion. Of this, Gravitation is 
 the condition, but not the cause. These two, again, 
 are generally, not always, che condition of Chem- 
 ical Affinity ; these three, of Vegetable Life ; these 
 four, of Animal Life ; and these five, of that higher 
 Rational and Spiritual Life which is peculiar to 
 man. In each case, as we go up, we take with us 
 all that is below, and add something ; and m each 
 case we introduce, not merely complexity, which 
 flome have made the test of higher and lower, but 
 we introduce a force which subordinates to itself 
 all that is below it ; which indeed manifests itself 
 only by thus subordinating and overmastering that 
 which is below it. Hence the impossibility that 
 the higher force should have been developed from 
 the lower. So far as these forces are concerDed, ii 
 
CLASSIFICATION OF SCIENCES. 27 
 
 the universe had been constituted for the purpose 
 af excluding the idea of development, it could not 
 have been more effectually done. 
 
 In virtue of the law thus given we have a pyr- 
 amidal structure of the universe which gives us 
 a basis for the symmetrical classification of the 
 sciences. The first three forces give the Physical 
 Sciences. As matter acts in masses, or in molecules; 
 through vast distances, or distances imperceptible, 
 we have Astronomy and Chemistry. The fourth 
 force gives us Botany in its various branches ; the 
 fifth gives us Zoology; and the sixth Civil Law, 
 Political Economy, Ethics, Metaphysics, all those 
 Bciences which originate from man as their subject. 
 This conception has always entered unconsciously 
 into the classification of the sciences as a whole, 
 80 far as they have been classified, and often also 
 into the arrangement in particular sciences. It is 
 a law of the forces. It is not a law of logic. It 
 is not a mere classification. It is a law of the 
 forces, and so underlies the classification and the 
 logical relations. It is not a law of interdepend- 
 ence. It is a law of dependence of the upper 
 upon the lower forces, but there is no dependence 
 of gravitation upon any other force, and, where the 
 method is by the addition of superior forces, there 
 is no dependence throughout of that which is 
 V below on that which is above. Vegetable life is 
 'dependent upon the forces below it, but they are 
 tn no way dependent upon it. 
 
28 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 To this law of conditioning and conditioned 1 
 ask particular attention, because it Avill give us our 
 method in the investigations that are to follow. I 
 do not speak of it as anything new. It was 
 stated by me some ten years since in this pla<;e, 
 and will be found in the Lectures on Moral Science 
 then delivered and since published. But as I am 
 to make so free a use of this law, as it is, indeed, 
 BO the condition of these Lectures, that I could not 
 have dehvered them vritliout it, their whole method 
 depending upon it, it may not be unsuitable for 
 me to say that so far as I know, it had not been 
 previously stated. I feel, therefore, that I have 
 a right to it. It came to me, not in the interest 
 of physical science though it covers the physical 
 sciences, but in the interest of Ethics, and as lying 
 at the basis of the law of limitation, to be spoken 
 of hereafter. It is, I think, the law that pervades 
 the structure of the universe up to the point where 
 a true causation comes in, and gives it its unity ; 
 and it is under the guidance of this law that we 
 now take up the study of man. 
 
 We have separated man from everything else ; 
 we have shown his place ; and now, in accordance 
 with the law just stated, we make a further sepa^ 
 ration thus, — 
 
 BODY. 
 
 In our present state the body is the condition o) 
 ihe mind as we know it. We therefore place it 
 
THE BODY. 
 
 29 
 
 below, and begin with the body. We wish to 
 study man as a unity. This we can best do by a 
 separation of the parts of his complex nature, by 
 taking that part first which is lowest, and so a con- 
 dition for all the rest, and so on upward till we 
 reach that which is highest, and so the condition 
 of nothing above it. If we can do this we shall 
 have an '• Outhne Study of Man " throughout. 
 
 First, tnen, we take the body. This is the 
 eubject of two sciences of which one is the condi- 
 tion of the other. We therefore place them thus,— - 
 
 PHYSIOLOGY. 
 ANATOMY. 
 
 Anatomy is simply descriptive. It tells us what 
 there is in the body. Physiology teaches us the 
 function, or functions of each part, and how those 
 functions are performed. The three questions 
 which I endeavor to teach my classes on this sub- 
 ject to answer are, Fh'st. What is there in this part 
 of the body ? Second. What function does it per- 
 form ? Third. How, or on what conditions, does it 
 perform it ? Whoever knows all that is imphed 
 in these questions knows all he needs to know in 
 regard to the body in health, since a knowledge of 
 the laws of health is involved in that of the func- 
 tions and the mpde of their performance. The 
 physician needs to know another class of sciences. 
 That you should all know the position and struct- 
 ure of those organs and tissues of the body by 
 
30 AN OUTLUiE STUDY OF MAK. 
 
 which the functions of life are performed, is desira- 
 ble, but not necessary for our present purpose. - 
 
 The body is not a single system. It is consti- 
 tuted of different systems that are separate from 
 each other, and are capable, at least some of them^ 
 of being shown separately. They have intimate 
 relations to each other, and are bound up together, 
 but are still separate, and each of these systems 
 has a separate function. K then we would study 
 this subject in accordance with the principle laid 
 down, we shall need to inquire in the first place, 
 just as we inquired in regard to the lowest and 
 most universal force in nature, what that funda- 
 mental function is without which none of the rest 
 could be performed. 
 
 I am perfectly aware, and it cannot fail to 
 occur to you as I proceed, of the circle that is 
 implied in these inquiries. In any given organiza- 
 tion, life seems to move in a circle, each system 
 and function implying every other. The heart, 
 where there is a heart, implies the stomach, and 
 the stomach, the heart. The heart needs the 
 stomach to supply it with nutriment, and the 
 stomach needs the heart to supply it with blood. 
 This is because, when we reach organizat'on, we 
 find, not merely as heretofore, dependence of the 
 higher upon the lower, but a system of interdepend- 
 ence. In all organizations, there is not only a 
 dependence of the higher upon the lower, but also 
 a reaction of the higher upon the lower, binding 
 
 J 
 
THE DIGESTIVE SYSTEM. 3l 
 
 them together in a union so close tliat " if one 
 member suffer all the members suffer with it." 
 In this view of it the different systems may be 
 said to be reciprocally conditioned upon each other. 
 Still there is an order of nature and of thought by 
 which these systems may be presented as condi- 
 tioning and conditioned, in accordance with the 
 principle already laid down. 
 
 To proceed then : if anything is to be built, it is 
 obvious that we must have something to build it 
 of. We must have material ; and in the case of 
 all organizations, so far as I know., some prepara- 
 tion of that material is needed. The process by 
 which this preparation is made in the human 
 system, for we are now speaking only of that, is 
 called digestion. This process, with its accessories, 
 is performed by the organs of mastication, and by 
 the stomach and intestinal canal, together with the 
 organs of secretion connected with them. It con- 
 sists of various steps, and is so scientific that science 
 cannot perform it; or, if you please, so artificial 
 that art cannot reach it. So it is in man, and in- 
 deed everywhere ; but in the lower forms of organ- 
 ization the process is simple, and the organ may 
 seem a mere surface. But whatever the organ 
 may be we must have the material ; that material 
 must be prepared ; the process by which it is pre- 
 pared is digestion ; and, as that process is, at least 
 in thought, the condition of any other, we may 
 Bet down as lowest 
 
 THE DIGESTIVE SYSTEM. 
 
32 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 But when the material for building up the body 
 Las been prepared, what next is required ? evidently 
 it must be transported to the point where it is 
 needed. The system which does this is composed 
 of the heart, the arteries, and the capillaries. The 
 veins, as returning the blood to the heart, are acces- 
 sory to these, and are a part of the same system. 
 As the blood goes out from the heart and returns 
 to it, it is said to circulate, and this movement 
 gives its name to the system. Its object, however, 
 is distribution, and since this is immediately con- 
 ditioned upon the digestive system, and is itself 
 the condition of any other system, we have as 
 next in order 
 
 THE CIBCULATOKY SYSTEM. 
 
 For some reason not fully understood by us it is 
 requisite for the fitness of fluids which are to be 
 used in building up animal bodies, I believe uni- 
 versally, certainly it is so in man, that they should 
 first be acted upon by the oxygen of the atmos- 
 phere. That this may be done we have what is 
 called the smaller circulation, in which the blood ia 
 carried from the right side of the heart through the 
 lungs, and returned to its left side. In thus pass- 
 ing it loses carbon and its dark color, taking on a 
 bright scarlet, and thus becomes fitted for itf3 work 
 We thus have 
 
 THE KESPIEATORY SYSTEM. 
 
lUilSPIRATOB'i AND SECiJETORY SYSTEMS. 33 
 
 What next ? The material is now prepared for 
 ase, but its constituent parts are mixed in one fluid, 
 and we need special fluids to be used for particular 
 purposes in different parts of the body. We need 
 tears to moisten the eyes, and ear-wax to guard 
 the ears from insects, and saliva to moisten the 
 mouth and to enable us to swallow food that is 
 dry. For digesting the food and its chylification, 
 we need the gastric juice, the pancreatic juice, and 
 the bile ; we need synovia for the joints, and we 
 need to have the ashes of the system, when the car- 
 bon has been consumed, separated and carried off. 
 These and similar selections and processes are per- 
 formed for the most part by what are called glands, 
 sometimes by what seem to be only surfaces, and 
 the system by which they are performed is that 
 which comes next in order. It is called 
 
 THE SECBETOEY SYSTEM. 
 
 But in the processes of life there is constant 
 waste. The material becomes unfit for use. What 
 are you to do with it? You strike your finger- 
 nail and there comes under it extravasated blood. 
 What is to become of it ? Plainly we need a set 
 of vessels, everywhere at work, that may be called 
 scavengers, as having, for their chief office, to 
 gather i^p waste material and carry it into those 
 channels by which it may be eliminated from the 
 body. This system is next in order, and is 
 called 
 
 THE ABSORBENT SYSTEM. 
 
34 AN OUTLINE STUDY 01' MAN. 
 
 The systems already considered, or at least the 
 functions performed by them, seem necessary to 
 life in any form. We now pass to those that are 
 built up by these, and which belong to special 
 forms of life, generally those that are higher. If 
 the body of man was to be erect and movable, a 
 permanent fi*ame work with joints was necessary. 
 Such a frame- work we find in the bones. Of these 
 the main objects are support and leverage, but they 
 also, as in the skull and thorax, furnish protection. 
 For these all the other systems are a condition, and 
 BO we have in the next place 
 
 THE OSSEOUS SYSTEM. 
 
 Having then something to be moved, and having 
 joints and leverage, we need that which shall move 
 it. This we have in the muscles. These are ad- 
 justed to the bones so as to produce by their mu- 
 tual contractions and relaxations just the motions, 
 and all the motions of which the joints admit. 
 For these, in a being like man, the bones are a con- 
 dition. We thus have next 
 
 THE MUSCULAR SYSTEM. 
 
 But the muscles have neither inteUigence noi 
 power, unless, indeed, it; be what is called the vis 
 insitay by which they are simply held in position, 
 and hold the bones strongly together. If they are 
 to contract, it must be by a stimulus from without 
 
THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 35 
 
 themselves ; and if they are to contract in obedience 
 to intelligence and will, there must be some system 
 in which that intollisrence and will shall more im- 
 mediately reside. This system must, moreover, be 
 related to the muscles on the one hand, and to the 
 external world on the other, so as to be at once 
 receptive of sensations and a fountain of power. 
 Such a system we have in the brain, the spinal 
 marrow, and the nerves. Of these the larger por- 
 tions are central, are wholly inclosed in bone, and 
 show by their position and the care with which they 
 are guarded, that the other systems were made 
 with reference to them, while the nerves are chan- 
 nels of sensation and of motive power. We thus 
 have next, and highest as completing the Individ 
 
 ^^^^ THE KERVOUS SYSTEM. 
 
 But though we have thus reached the top so 
 far as the individual is concerned, we have not 
 yet enumerated all the systems. There are two 
 more, incidental, but yet essential. 
 
 The systems already given have been given as 
 separate. They may be conceived of as separate, 
 and several of them may, to a great extent, be 
 actually separated from the rest. If we but had 
 the skill, the circulatory, the digestive, and the 
 nervous systems might be drawn out from the 
 rest and shown separately as the skeleton actu- 
 ally is. How ifl it then that they are so bound 
 
30 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF BIAN. 
 
 together as to become a unity ? This is done bj 
 a miis3 of cellular tissue which envelops and per- 
 vades the other tissues of the body. Take, for 
 instance, the muscles as composed of those little 
 fleshy fibres that have the power of contraction, 
 and each one of those fibres is enveloped by a 
 portion of cellular tissue that passes on to a point 
 where they all unite and are hardened into a ten- 
 don. This tissue thus pervading all parts of the 
 body is called cellular, because it is connected 
 throughout by cells, and it is in that that the 
 fat is deposited. It is in that also that the water 
 collects in dropsy. A man with this disease may 
 seem large, but if you tap him in the top of his 
 foot, several gallons of water will run off, and he 
 will collapse at once, showing that this cellular 
 tissue is connected throughout the body. It is 
 exceedingly fine. If it could be separated, it 
 would weigh but a few ounces, and you could 
 double it up and hold it in your hand. It ha? 
 withal no sensibility, and yet it is absolutelv 
 indispensable to the unity of the body that thert 
 should be this fine, all-pervading, unobtrusive sys- 
 tem. It is called 
 
 THE CELLULAR SYSTEM. 
 
 But since it performs no distinct function by 
 itself, but is only incidental and subsidiary, it 
 cannot be ranked with the others. It seems tc 
 
Ol-ILULAR AND TEGUMENTARY SYSTEMS. 37 
 
 CQe it should be written across the ends of the 
 others to show that it pervades the whole, and 
 binds the whole together. 
 
 The Cellular System, however, is not the only 
 one that is thus incidental. It binds the others 
 together indeed and gives them unity, but they 
 also need to be covered. They would not look 
 well otherwise. We have therefore a covering 
 provided, which also indeed performs other func- 
 tions. It consists of three layers, the scarf-skin, 
 the rete mucosum, which holds the coloring 
 matter, and the true skin. These three parts, 
 including the hair and the nails, which are sup- 
 posed to pertain to the scarf-skin, compose 
 
 THE TEGTBIENTAEY SYSTEM. 
 
 This also requires the same arrangement in the 
 mode of its presentation as the Cellular System. 
 I have now given in their order the functions 
 that seem necessary to be performed, and also the 
 systems that perform them, but there are two 
 great functions performed in the body for which 
 we know of no systems. One of these is what 
 IS called assimilation. 
 
 This is the most wonderful process that takes place 
 in the physical system, that is, if there is any dif- 
 ference between them. You will see what is meant 
 by this. Suppose you have the food prepared, sup- 
 pose it changed by the lungs, and circulated, and 
 
 y 
 
38 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 special fluids secreted, what have you to do fxtr- 
 ther? Why, you have to construct the system. 
 Here you have a great variety of substances and 
 tissues ; you have the skin, the hair, the nails, the 
 muscles, the bones, the enamel of the teeth, the 
 peculiar matter of which the eye is formed, and all 
 this is to be taken from one common fluid, that is, 
 the blood. Now when the food is brought in a fluid 
 state to the point where it is needed, what is it 
 that causes it to become skin, or nail, or bone, or 
 muscle? What is it? Nobodv knows what the 
 system or organ is that does it. As far as we 
 can understand it, it is performed at the point 
 where the arteries terminate and the veins begin. 
 And that is most marvelous, because, so far as I 
 know, there is no microscope, wonderful as are 
 the improvements in that instrument, that can 
 discover the exact point where the arteries run 
 into the veins. Yet there is no doubt about it. 
 It is, as it is called, a system of circulation. The 
 blood goes in a circle, and moreover there is no 
 doubt about the fact of a very free intercommuni- 
 cation between the arteries and the veins. Some 
 of yoa may remember, I do, when they used to 
 bleed people, and may have noticed how the flow 
 of the blood would be instantly quickened by 
 loosening the cord about the arm when it had 
 been made so tight as to check the flow of blood 
 in the artery. This was such as could be ac- 
 counted for in no way except by supposing the 
 
ASSIMILATION. — CALORIFICATION. 39 
 
 AT^kjnes and veins to inosculate, as the doctors 
 saj, at some point, and so, to form one continuous 
 circle. It is at that point, so far as we can judge, 
 that this process of assimilation takes place. But 
 what is it at that point that knows the material 
 that is required for bone, for muscle, for skin, for 
 the enamel of the teeth, and selects it, and carries 
 it to its proper place, and so fixes it there as to 
 complete the texture ? What it is nobody knows, 
 but it is this selection of material from a common 
 fluid, and this compacting and arranging of it into 
 organized tissue that is called assimilation, and it 
 is a wonderful process — a process without which 
 all the others had been useless. So far as we can 
 discover, there is, as has been said, no separate 
 system by which this process is performed, but it 
 seems to be performed by the capillaries that con- 
 nect the arteries and the veins. 
 
 Then there is another great function which seems 
 to have no separate system. This is what is called 
 
 CALORIFICATION 
 
 or the heating of the body. On that subject there 
 have been all kinds of theories since my remem- 
 brance. There was a time when the heat of the 
 body was accounted for by supposing that the lungs 
 were a furnace, and that there was combustion in 
 them just as there is in a fire-place. No doubt 
 there is in the lungs a union of oxygen and carbon, 
 and carbonic acid is formed. But then it in not 
 
40 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 \ny hotter in the lungs than it is elsewhere. But 
 if the fire is there it ought to be hotter. Then it 
 was said that artenai blood contained latent heat 
 which was diffused as it went on. That was in 
 the days when it was supposed there was such 
 a thing as heat, but since that is exploded, and 
 aK heat is motion, it may be doubted whether 
 there is such a thing as latent motion. It would 
 appear therefore that the function of calorification 
 b performed in some way in connection with that 
 of assimilation, perhaps in accordance with the 
 law that heat is evolved when a fluid becomes 
 Bolid. It may be also that in that destruction 
 of organization which is constantly going on in 
 the body, there is a union of oxygen with the 
 material, from which heat is evolved. At any 
 rate we know of no separate system by which 
 this function is performed. 
 
 We have then, so far as I know, the systems 
 and functions that are requisite for the well-being 
 of the body, and they may be presented togethe? 
 thus : 
 
 Nervous. 
 
 Muscular. 
 ^ Osseous. 
 
 •< 
 
 > 
 
 o ^ Absorbext. h h 
 
 a ^ Secretobt. j ti 
 
 S5 Respiratory. S 3 
 
 ;< « ClBCUI^TORT. H « 
 DiGESTITK. 
 
 That is the order in which, on the whole, 
 
THE BODY. 41 
 
 should put them. In regard to some of them there 
 may be room for question. It there are physi- 
 cians here, they, very likely, would think so. For 
 instance, there might be criticism at this point. I 
 have put the circulatory immediately above the 
 digestive system, but when the material is digested 
 and separated in the stomach and intestines, before 
 it goes into what may properly be called the cir- 
 culatory system, it is taken up by a set of absorb- 
 ents called lacteals, and is carried by them into 
 the cu'culatory system. Some physiologists would 
 therefore say that the absorbent system should be 
 placed next above the digestive, but I regard the 
 lacteals as a part of the digestive system, and think 
 that that system properly continues till its product 
 is delivered over to another. 
 
 If now you look at that as a whole, you will 
 observe that it may be divided into two parts by 
 a line between the absorbent and osseous systems, 
 and that the five which are below are used foi 
 the purpose of building and repairing the three 
 which are above. Whatever you may say about 
 the arrangement of the whole, nothing can be 
 plainer than that the five lower systems are 
 necessary as a condition for those which are above 
 them. These are the builders and repairers, and 
 their functions are common to vegetables and to 
 animals. Vegetables have what is equivalent to 
 digestion ; they have a circulation, and they have 
 respiration. A tree breathes through its leaves, 
 
42 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 and it circulates its fluids once a year. It has 
 also secretions and absorbents. All these are com- 
 mon to the animal and the vegetable, but the 
 three above are the systems that are to be built 
 up. 
 
 But between the two classes of systems now 
 pointed out there is also another difference. Of 
 the three lower systems the organs are in the 
 great cavities of the thorax and abdomen, which 
 are mainly given up to them, and they all per- 
 form their functions without our knowing anything 
 about them. They are involuntary. There are, 
 indeed, some muscles, as those of respiration and 
 of the eyelids, that are partly voluntary and 
 partly involuntary, but these are wholly involun- 
 tary, or at least, they are so with most persons. 
 Occasionally there is an exception in some respects. 
 I knew a man who could stop by his will the 
 beating of his heart, so that it would beat eight 
 times less in a minute ; and there is on record the 
 case of a man who had power over his heart in 
 this respect, and who went so far as to make bets 
 about the time he could stop it, till at length he 
 stopped it, and it never beat again. In general, 
 these five are involuntary ; their organs are con- 
 »5ealed from view, and are placed where they are 
 oeeded without regard to symmetr}^ 
 
 And here again there is a difference. The 
 three higher systems are symmetrically divided by 
 a vertical line into two equal and similar halves, — 
 
TEMPERAMENTS. 43 
 
 these, and all the special organs connected with 
 them. Thus you have on each side an eye, an ear, 
 a nostril, an arm, and so on, and these are gen- 
 erally so far equal and similar that most persona 
 observe no difference. There are, however, few if 
 any, the two sides of whose faces are precisely 
 alike. Their eyes are not alike, the form of the 
 muscles on the two sides of the face is not alike. 
 I know a lady who says that she is careful to turn 
 the company side of her face to those she is speak 
 Lng with. In some this difference is more con- 
 spicuous than in others, but in general it is not 
 noticed except by artists. 
 
 Thus is a voluntary and symmetrical system 
 built up by one that is involuntary, and presented 
 to an intelligent spirit for its use and control. 
 
 The systems of which I have spoken are com^ 
 bined in different proportions, and that gives rise 
 to the doctrine of Temperaments. In their enu- 
 meration of these, physiologists are not uniform. 
 They speak of the sanguine, the bilious, the 
 melancholic, the phlegmatic, and the nervous. 
 This doctrine of the temperaments is of ancient 
 date, and was once in high repute ; but since at- 
 tention has been more directed to the connection 
 of the mental operations with the nervous system, 
 it has been less esteemed. Still there are those 
 who judge of other men by the predominance of 
 these different systems, and no doubt there is some 
 foundation for this. No doubt; the predominance 
 
44 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 of the nervous, or the muscular, or the lymphatic 
 Bvstem mil be comiected with certain traits oi 
 character, or rather with certain characteristics ; 
 but at present the temperaments are so poorly 
 defined, and so inextricably mixed, that no doctrine 
 respecting them can be called a science, or scarcely 
 scientific. Perhaps more may be learned by the 
 relation of the three great cavities, that of the 
 brain, of the thorax, and of the abdomen, to each 
 other. With the cavity of the brain and of the 
 thorax both large, you may count on a powerful 
 man. With the cavity of the brain small, and 
 the expanse of the abdomen large, you would 
 expect less general power. No man thus consti- 
 tuted has been known to accomplish much. 'Jr,sjj^ 
 
 In connection with these systems, I again call 
 your attention to the doctrine of development 
 which was spoken of in the last Lecture. Is the 
 body developed ? Are these systems developed ? 
 Starting as the body does from a cell, the doctrine 
 of development may seem plausible. This doc- 
 trine, so far as it can account for anything, sup- 
 poses two things : first, a force that works from 
 within ; and second, a whole already existing, that 
 is enveloped. If either of these be wanting, there 
 can be no development that we need trouble our- 
 selves about, and indeed the word loses its mean- 
 ing. A house is not developed. Its increase in 
 
DEVELOPMENT. 45 
 
 Fize or elevation is by an agency from without 
 The figure on a carpet, as it gradually appears, ia 
 tK)t developed ; it grows, and that through an 
 agency not in the loom, or in the materials. 
 When, therefore, we inquire whether the body is 
 developed, we inquire whether its different sys- 
 tems are in any sense enfolded in the cell from 
 which it starts, and are made manifest by a force 
 inherent in itself. This point we need to settle. 
 Precisely what we mean by development we need 
 to know, lest we fall, as is so often done, into a 
 learned ignorance by substituting a word not well 
 analyzed, but become familiar, for a knowledge of 
 the thing. 
 
 With this statement, if we look at the relation 
 of the systems mentioned to each other, or even 
 of the different parts of individual systems to the 
 other parts, we may see what this doctrine, as thus 
 applied, amounts to. Take, for instance, the os- 
 seous system. Each bone of the skeleton grows 
 from a distinct centre of ossification, is formed as 
 a distinct instrument, in most instances tipped with 
 cartilage, and except through this cartilage never 
 comes into contact with any other bone. The 
 bones of the upper extremity are a separate organ- 
 ization that do not touch, except at a single pomt 
 those of the lower. The bones of the skull com- 
 mence at different points and grow towards each 
 other, uniting by sutures. The bone of the 
 tongue is wholly unconnected with any other bone 
 
46 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 and 80 could not have been developed from the 
 system. The teeth grow in the jaws, but are 
 separate instruments, and are not developed from 
 them. Indeed, each bone seems to have been 
 formed separately, as a mechanic forms nails and 
 pegs and the different parts of a chair, and theD 
 brings them together. There is nothing to in- 
 dicate that they start from a common centre. 
 Take, again, the heart and the arteries. Let the 
 arteries run on till they become capillaries, and 
 then enlarge themselves again and come round 
 into the heart in the vena cava. Does anybody 
 believe that this double set of vessels could have 
 been developed from the heart and thus joined at 
 the extremities ? And if that be so when but a 
 single system is concerned, much more is it so in 
 relation to the several systems. To me it does not 
 seem possible that each and all of these can so 
 exist in a single cell that their production can be 
 at all accounted for by development. The process 
 stands by itself — both that of origination and of 
 growth, and is utterly inscrutable. Growth is not 
 evolution. It may accompany it, but is not it. 
 
 And now that I am on this subject theie is 
 another point connected with a system that I have 
 not yet mentioned, and which bears upon both 
 origin and development. I have not mentioned 
 
 THE REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM, 
 
 which ifl the last in order, and has relation to the 
 
CREATION. 47 
 
 race. This involves that sexual relation which is 
 BO universal and controlling in the structure cf 
 organized bodies. This relation implies more than 
 one individual as its condition, and the difficulty 
 is to account, not merely for one individual by de- 
 velopment, but for the first two that held to each 
 other this relation. In all the accounts I have seen, 
 this difficulty has been either ignored or slurred 
 over. According to the Bible, as you will remem- 
 ber, the fact of this relation in our first parents ia 
 connected with the idea of creation. It is said, 
 " male and female created He them ; " and I ask 
 you whether the idea of this relation, especially as 
 80 pervasive and involving such variety of adap- 
 tation, does not necessitate an origin by creation, 
 [n dioecious plants, unless there were originally 
 two, how was the species perpetuated ? Not as 
 now certainly. So of animals and of man. Give 
 us a first pair and we have no difficulty ; without 
 that, it seems to me we must suppose processes for 
 which facts furnish no support, and the present 
 order of Nature no analogy. Sach processes we 
 must suppose, and, unless we resort to that cuttle- 
 fish ink of philosophers, indefinite words, we must 
 ultimately get back to the fact of a creation. Go 
 back as we may, development presupposes a whole 
 either in idea or in fact, and the origin of such a 
 whole demands intelligence and creative power. 
 
 Connecting, then, this faot of the sexual relation 
 m organized matter with that relation of the forces 
 
48 AN OUTLINE STUDl OF MAN. 
 
 in unorganized matter mentioned in tho last 
 Lecture, by which the higher force reveals itself 
 only as it overmasters the lower — which fact 
 indeed runs up through the various grades of or- 
 ganization — and it is difficult to see how a phys- 
 ical universe could have been so constructed as to 
 exclude more effectually the idea of development. 
 The two relations demand a power working from 
 without, and from above. 
 
 Looking now at these systems as a whole, I may 
 observe in a practical way that we see what health 
 is, and to what our attention is to be directed in 
 preserving it. Health consists in the perform- 
 ance by each system of the body of its function, 
 or functions, in a perfect manner. Let each system 
 thus perform its function perfectly and there will 
 be perfect health ; otherwise not. Hence, in pre- 
 serving and promoting health, attention should be 
 directed to the performance of function, rather 
 than to technical and formal rules. 
 
 In looking also at the different combinations of 
 these systems, and at the differences between men 
 thence resulting, we may see that it is one thing 
 to study man, and another to study men. In one 
 case we study those things in man which are com- 
 mon to all men, and only in those respects in 
 which they are thus common ; that is, we study 
 uniformities. This gives us science. In the other 
 case the things that are common are presupposed 
 
UNITY OF NATLTIE AND OF THE BODY. 49 
 
 and we study men only as tliey differ. Uniformi- 
 ties — differences — as men perceive and arrange 
 the first they become scientific ; as they perceive 
 the second they become practical ; as they are able 
 to combine both they become both scientific and 
 practical. Often these are not combined, hence 
 A man may be scientific and able to talk well, and 
 yet utterly fail in practical affairs ; or, again, he 
 may know nothing but differences and details and 
 be a successful business man. You will see at 
 once that in a course of Lectures hke this it is only 
 the knowledge of man that can be taught. 
 
 We have thus seen, as I promised to show you, 
 that the body is built up on the same principle as 
 external nature. It has its unity in the same way, 
 one system being conditioned upon another ; but 
 the unity is more close, because here the higher 
 systems react upon the lower, and thus give a 
 reciprocal sympathy of all the parts. 
 
 And now I will close this Lecture by asking you 
 what it is that constitutes this body which we have 
 thus considered. Is it simply the shifting matter 
 of which it may happen to be composed at any 
 given moment ? or is it not rather that permanent, 
 invisible, automatic, selecting and arranging power 
 which begins vdth us. and goes with us to the 
 end ? 
 
LECTURE III. 
 
 MTtTD. — INTELLECT. — THE REASON. 
 
 External nature is built up on the principle oi 
 the conditioning and the conditioned. Thus built 
 it becomes a condition for the body of man. That 
 again, as we have seen, is built up on the same 
 principle. Is this true also of the mind? To 
 that we are next to pass, but before doing this we 
 must notice here, as we do at every point of transi- 
 tion in nature, the care that is taken to prevent the 
 transition from seeming abrupt. The transition is 
 absolute and perfect. An element wholly new is in- 
 troduced. Sensation, which we have now reached, 
 is not gravitation, nor any modification of it. But 
 when the new element is introduced it is so fore- 
 shadowed and simulated by that which is below 
 it that it is often difficult to fix the point of tran- 
 sition, and some are even led to, doubt whether 
 there is such a point. And nowhere is this more 
 noticeable than in the apparent shading off between 
 what is called the reflex action of the nervous sys- 
 tem and those conscious and voluntary actions which 
 are the product of mind. This kfnd of action haa 
 been much spoken of of late, and without know 
 ing something of this we cannot understand our- 
 selves. 
 
KEFLEX ACTION. 51 
 
 Thia automatic and reflex action is of different 
 degrees. There is, fii-st, that which originates in 
 the system of nerves that is called ganglionic, and 
 that is wholly involuntary. With no knowledge 
 UT consciousness on our part the ganglion, or ner- 
 vous centre connected with the heart, takes cogni- 
 zance of its state when full, and by a reflex action 
 originates the movement of contraction. In the 
 same way the enlargement and contraction of the 
 pupil of the eye is regulated, and also the processes 
 of digestion and secretion and assimilation, with 
 the muscular movements they involve. In all 
 these there is an adjustment of movements and a 
 conspiring of means to ends that are admirable, 
 and such a simulation of intelligence and volition 
 that not a few have referred these movements, and 
 BO the up-building of the body, to the unconscious 
 operations of the soul. 
 
 But however this may be, we have, in the second 
 place, that reflex action which is connected with 
 the voluntary muscles. It was in connection with 
 this that the constitution of the nervous system 
 as double, and also the different functions of its 
 eineritious and fibrous portions were discovered 
 This may be illustrated thus : — 
 
 j^^ 
 
52 AN OUTLINE STUPY OF MAN. 
 
 If we suppose the straight line A to represent the 
 spinal column and the lines B and C to be nerves 
 passing out from it, as there are nerves on either 
 side passing out between each two of the vertebrae, 
 then it is found that the nerve is composed of two 
 parts, one originating on the back side of the spi- 
 nal column, or rather from its centre, and passing 
 out separately by distinct roots, the other originat- 
 ing on the front side. The one originating from the 
 centre springs from the cineritious matter, and has 
 upon it, before it reaches the other portion, an en- 
 largement or ganglion. These portions unite in the 
 common nerve and become undistinguishable. Still 
 they perform different functions. The part with 
 the ganglion upon it is found to be the nerve of sen- 
 sation, and the other the nerve of motion. This is 
 ascertained by experiments upon animals in which 
 the roots of each are severed. If one be severed all 
 power of motion will be lost while the power of sen- 
 sation will remain, if the other be severed all power 
 of sensation will be lost while the power of motion 
 will remain. It sometimes happens in paralysis 
 that there is the power of motion without that of 
 feeling, and the reverse. We have thus what 
 resembles a railway with a double track. One 
 portion of the nerve, called the afferent, brings in 
 the impression from without ; and the other, called 
 the efferent, responds by originating motion from 
 within. Motion thus produced in the voluntary 
 muscles without consciousness or volition, is called 
 
SEPARATE EXISTENCE OF MIND. 53 
 
 reflex action. The centre of it is the spinal column 
 and the medulla oblongata, and its object is to 
 guard the body in sudden emergencies, and to 
 relieve volition from unnecessary burdens. Some 
 motions originally of this kind, as v^inking and 
 breathing, may be controlled in a measure by the 
 will ; while others, originated by the will, but often 
 repeated, are supposed by some to pass out of con- 
 sciousness, and to become wholly reflex. These 
 are such as walking and playing on a musical in- 
 strument. Certainly there is a wonderful blend- 
 ing of action from forces merely vital, and from 
 the action of mind by intelligent volition ; and 
 it is often difficult to say where one ends and the 
 other begins. 
 
 We now pass to the Mind. And first, has mind 
 a separate existence? Is it something distinct 
 from matter ? So far as I can see, we have as much 
 evidence for the existence of a permanent thinking 
 thing that is separate from matter as we have of a 
 permanent hard thing that is matter. Of the 
 essence of either matter or mind we neither have, 
 nor can have, any direct cognizance. That the 
 phenomena of each have an underlying essence, or 
 substance, we know by the laws of thought. We 
 know that there can be no phenomena without a 
 cause, and since the cause cannot be nothing, the 
 cause of both physical and mental phenomena must 
 be some heing^ some thing. But how do we know 
 
54 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 that the cause of mental phenomena is not mat- 
 ter ? Because mental phenomena are different from 
 those of matter, and so different that they are not 
 compatible mth its laws. How do we know that 
 a stone is not a fluid ? Because the phenomena it 
 exhibits are incompatible with the laws of fluidity. 
 In the same way the phenomena of mind are in- 
 compatible with the laws of mattei. The fii-st 
 law of matter is that of inertia.-^ This is, that 
 matter will continue in a state of rest or of motion, 
 whichever it may be in, without change of state, 
 unless that change be produced by something out- 
 side of itself. It is true that all bodies are in 
 motion, but that does not conflict with the law, for 
 they will continue in motion precisely as they are 
 unless they are affected by some external force. 
 According to this, matter cannot become a cause 
 except as it is an effect. What is called a second 
 cause it may be, for the precise difference between 
 a first and a second cause is that a second cause ia 
 first an effect, and so an effect as to be necessarily 
 determined. It would be contradictory to this 
 fundamental law to suppose it to be an originating, 
 or proper cause. It can have no voluntary action. 
 But mind knows itself as acting voluntarily, and 
 as a proper cause. It is an essential difference 
 between mind and matter that one is self-active 
 and the other is not. "Mind acts from within by 
 an energy of its own, and not simply as it is acted 
 upon from without. Matter, under the same cir- 
 
 1 See Psychology, Human and Comparative, by Dr. Wilson. 
 
THE MIND NOT MATERIAL. i>0 
 
 cumstances, must always act with the same degree 
 of force. This follows from the law. With mind 
 we know that this is not so. I can use this stick 
 with one degree of force or with another, with no 
 reference to any fixed law or external force. It is 
 in this power of mind to origuiate motion, and not 
 only to direct force, but to increase or diminish 
 the amount put forth, that we find a sufficient 
 reason for putting mind in a different order from 
 matter. Call matter force if you will, though 
 what force can be without some being that has 
 force I do not understand ; but call it so, and it is 
 a force that can originate nothing, can direct noth- 
 ing, can modify nothing except as it is modified, 
 that has neither spontaneity nor vohtioii, and can 
 in no sense be a proper cause. Origination, cau- 
 sation, modification, and direction belong to mind. 
 Mind, in short, is the cause of its own actions, 
 and acts from reasons. Matter is not the cause 
 of its own actions, or rather movements, and acts 
 from causes in distinction from reasons. Or if 
 we take any other law of matter or of motion, as, 
 that action and reaction will be equal and in con- 
 trary directions, we shall find that it is wholly in- 
 apphcable to the phenomena of mind. As applied 
 to them its terms are without meaning. 
 
 Since then the phenomena of mind are not only 
 wholly different from those of matter, but are in- 
 compatible with its laws, we conclude that they 
 have a different basis. "We conclude also that 
 
56 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 that basis, whatever it be, is a permanent thing, 
 It is something underlying phenomena, and if I do 
 not know it to be permanent, then I do not know 
 that any thing hard is permanent. How do I know 
 that this desk is the same hard thing that was 
 here last Friday night if I do not know myself to 
 be permanent? I cannot know it. Therefore 1 
 have the same evidence of something in myself 
 that is permanent, that has thought and affections, 
 and that we call mind, as I have of something out 
 of myself that is permanent and hard, and that we 
 call matter. Certainly my evidence for the phe- 
 nomena* of mind is as good as that for the phe- 
 nomena of matter, since I know the phenomena of 
 matter only through those of mind. That those 
 phenomena have some permanent basis is as certain 
 as the laws of thought, and that the basis of one is 
 different from that of the other we infer not only 
 from the difference of the phenomena, differing as 
 chey do in their nature, lying in a different region, 
 and made known in a different way, but also from 
 the incompatibility of the laws of matter with the 
 ^.yhenomena of mind. Either physicists must give 
 jp their own definitions and laws, or must concede 
 to the phenomena of mind a different basis from 
 those of matter. 
 
 Of mind as thus existing we say that it mani- 
 tests itself in three forms, and that these follow 
 the law of conditioning and conditioned akeady 
 spoken of, thus, — 
 
SENSATION AND THE SENSIBILITY. 57 
 
 WILL. 
 
 SENSIBILITY. 
 
 INTELLECT. 
 
 As philosophers universally regard it now, these 
 are the general divisions of the manifestation of 
 mind. I remember, and others here may, when 
 the division was into the Intellect, or Undei*stand- 
 ing, as it was then called, and the Will. The Sen- 
 sibility, as that which moves the Will, was classed 
 with it, but now the division is as I have stated, 
 and in the order in which I have placed the powers. 
 For a rational being this is clearly the natural 
 order. As rational, such a being can have feeling 
 only as he has knowledge, and he can put forth 
 choices and volitions only as he has both knowl- 
 edge and feeling. This is the universal law, and 
 this is the order. 
 
 Here, however, it must be noticed that the Sen- 
 sibility as used in this connection does not include 
 Sensation. This is from the state of the body and 
 mind as mutually related. After the body is re- 
 vealed to the mind, sensation is known by the 
 mind as from the body. It is known as it is in 
 itself, and as indicative of something beyond itself. 
 It is the connecting link between mind and matter. 
 The mind is, indeed, affected by it, but its initia- 
 tive is in matter, and because it is so we leave it 
 behind us as capable of existing in connection with 
 animal life only. At any rate, whatever may be 
 
58 AN OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 said of it as belonging to the Sensibility in a 
 broad sense, it is widely different from those affec- 
 tions and emotions which belong to man as intel- 
 ligent, and which are possible only on condition of 
 the action of the intellect. 
 
 Here then, we begin again, as we did before, 
 with that which is lowest, 
 
 THE INTELLECT. 
 
 It may, perhaps, seem strange to some that the 
 Intellect should be placed lowest, but it belongs 
 there ; and the order in which I have presented the 
 different parts of our nature presents, as I suppose, 
 the order of progress of the race when it has been 
 reduced to a savage or semi-barbarous state and 
 would rise again. At first men worship strength 
 of body, physical energy. The man who had the 
 greatest power of muscles was the hero. Even 
 yet there are many with whom physical prowess is 
 the great thing, and who hold those who manifest 
 it in higher esteem than any others. The next 
 step is the worship of intellect. Disputants and 
 intellectual prize fighters become heroes. Great 
 debaters, pleaders, orators, writers, become the 
 great men irrespective of character. This is our 
 present state. No nation has yet got beyond this 
 In our literary institutions it is chiefly the intel 
 lect that is educated, and in some of them more 
 and more, with httle or no systematic regard for 
 the training of the higher powers. No doubt the 
 
THREE QUESTIONS. 59 
 
 time "will come when this state of things will be 
 looked back upon as we now look back on the 
 ascendency of physical force. Until the Intellect 
 is placed by the community where it belongs, and 
 made subordinate to the SensibiUty and the Will, 
 we shall find that mere sharpness, shrewdness, in- 
 tellectaal power, and success through these, will 
 be placed above those higher quahties in which 
 character consists, and success through thein. The 
 Intellect is simply instrumental, and belongs where 
 I have placed it. 
 
 The prober business of the Intellect is to know. 
 This operation of knowing may take place without 
 willing. Whether it ever does without feeling is 
 not so certain. We can, I think, imagine the In- 
 tellect as contemplating certain subjects, say the 
 existence of space, or a mathematical proposition, 
 in a perfectly dry light, with no feeling whatever ; 
 but if not, we can treat of it separately, as of 
 length without breadth, and as we often do and 
 must of things which we can conceive of sepa- 
 rately, but which do not in fact exist apart. 
 
 You will remember I said in the last Lecture 
 in regard to the body that there were three ques- 
 \ions to be asked, — First, What is there in any 
 particular part of it ? Second, What function doea 
 it perform? and third. How does it perform it? 
 And so there are three questions to be asked with 
 respect to the Intellect. 
 
 First, What is there ?.n the mind regarded as In- 
 tellect ? 
 
60 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Second, How came it to be there ? And 
 
 Third, What operations can we perform with it, 
 now that it is there ? rj 
 
 These are the three questions which we need to 
 answer ; and if we can answer these three ques- 
 tions we shall know all that we need to know about 
 the Intellect. 
 
 The two questions in relation to what there is 
 in the mind, and how it got there, cannot be 
 treated separately. They blend together. But 
 we need to kno^ the answers to both, and in 
 treating of them as thus blended, we treat of the fa- 
 mous question of the origin of Knowledge. That 
 has been one of the most famous questions among' 
 philosophers in past times, and it is that that we 
 propose to consider now. 
 
 In doing this we suppose the Intellect to be 
 infurnished, but then we suppose it to be Intel- 
 lect. As such we suppose it to have the capacity, 
 the power, to know, for this is the function of 
 Intellect. If there be not in it an original power 
 to know, then it is not Intellect. Of the origin 
 of this, or any other original power, we know 
 Qothing. We simply know it to be because it 
 manifests itself, and, plainly a power of knowing 
 can manifest itself only by knowing. So we be- 
 gin by knowing ; knowing something. What then 
 is it to know ? I agree with President Porter as 
 he puts it in his book on The Intellect, that tc 
 know is to be certain of something. If you have 
 
THE FACULTIES GIVE CERTAINTY. 61 
 
 not certainty there is no knowledge. It is mere 
 belief or opinion. To know is to be certain. But 
 certain of what ? Of the existence of that, what- 
 ever it may be, concerning which we have knowl- 
 edge. It is absurd to suppose that we can have 
 knowledge of that which does not exist. To kno'v^ 
 also involves a knowledge by himself of the exist- 
 ence of the bemg that knows. Certainly if a per^ 
 Bon is not certain of his own existence he cannot 
 be certain of anything else. There is involved, 
 therefore, in knowing, the certainty of the exist- 
 ence of the thing known, and also the certainty of 
 the existence of the being knowing. 
 
 And here I observe that it is a great thing for 
 a man to find himseK, and to reach certainty. It 
 is a great thing to have the certain knowledge of 
 anything. This we have on the authority of our 
 faculties. The authority of the human faculties 
 is for us, and must be, the ultimate authority. If 
 I cannot trust my faculties I cannot trust any- 
 thing. Perhaps some one would say that I might 
 trust revelation, might trust the direct voice of 
 God. But how am I to know that it is a revela- 
 tion? How that it is the voice of God? How 
 do I, or can I know anything except through ray 
 faculties? And if these faculties do not giVe me 
 in some form, and to some extent, immediate and 
 direct knowledge, that is certainty, then there is 
 no hope of it anywhere. The thing is impos- 
 sible. Therefore it is tliat I say we begin with 
 
62 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF ftlAN. 
 
 knowledge. We begiu with certaiuty. If we do 
 not we never find it. We begin with the cer 
 tainty of the thing known, whatever it may be, 
 and also with the certainty of the existence of the 
 being that knows. If the thing known be not 
 certain, we do not know it. If the knower do not 
 exist, he cannot know it. This certainty of the 
 thing known and of the existence of the knower 
 I suppose to be given in one concrete act. I do 
 not understand that one of these is before the 
 other, but they come together and are mutually 
 dependent. The knower and the thing known are 
 each revealed by an authority that luvolves cer- 
 tainty. If not, so far as I can see, it is impossible 
 that certainty should ever be reached. We must 
 here find our beginning. The occasion of the first 
 mental operation is supposed to be in the action 
 of some one of the senses, but the operation itself 
 is accompanied by that certainty which is involved 
 in knowledge. 
 
 If, then, we suppose man possessed of intellect 
 alone, he may be represented by a single straight 
 line thus, — 
 
 Bkuto. 
 
 Objsot. 
 
 Let US now suppose an object presented before 
 him as a tree. Let this object so affect him 
 through his senses that he becomes aware of its 
 
THE IDEA OF BEING. 63 
 
 existence as something different from Limself » and 
 he will know the thing, and will know himself aa 
 knowing it. In thus knowing that which is not 
 himself he will be revealed to himself, and in this 
 double revelation there will be involved by neces- 
 Bity an idea that will connect itself with every sub- 
 sequent mental operation. That is the idea of 
 
 BEING. 
 
 As not given by sensation, but originated by the 
 mind itself, we may place this on the other side 
 of the line, and we shall have two ideas, or men- 
 tal products, wholly different in their origin and 
 characteristics. The one is the direct product of 
 sensation. It is contingent and variable. The ob- 
 ject might as well have been anjrthing else. It 
 appears and gives place to others. But the idea 
 of being, no sense can give. It comes by the en- 
 ergy of the mind itself, and is present in connec- 
 tion with all its subsequent operations. It passes 
 on and becomes an element in them by necessity.^ 
 
 We have thus two sources of knowledge : one 
 the external world, giving objects that are contin- 
 gent and variable ; the other the mind itself, evolv- 
 ing ideas when the occasion arises by the necessity 
 of its own constitution. 
 
 We inquire then, for we are now furnishing the 
 mind, what other ideas it gets, not as the product 
 of the senses, but from the mind itself and by ne- 
 cessity ; and I ask you whether it is possible that 
 
 * See Appendix B 
 
64 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 the Intellect should have the notion of a tree and 
 not know that it \3 in space. We put down 
 then, 
 
 SPACE. 
 
 By the constitution of our minds the idea of a 
 tree, or of any other material thing not in space, ia 
 impossible to thought. This idea of Space there- 
 fore will be present, and accompany all perception 
 of material objects, as that of being must be pres- 
 ent and accompany every operation of the mind. 
 
 What next ? You look at the tree, you repeat 
 your observation. I ask you whether it would be 
 possible thus to make two successive observations 
 without having the idea of 
 
 TIME. 
 
 Thenceforward no thought, no event, no change 
 can any more occur that shall not be known as in 
 time than a material object can be perceived and 
 not be known as in space. The idea will accom- 
 pany you in all your thinking. 
 
 Succession gives occasion for the exercise of 
 memory, and I ask you again whether it is possible 
 for any one to say I remember, and not have the 
 idea that he, as remembering, is the same person 
 that in time past knew the thing that is remem- 
 bered. Of necessity he must know that. He does 
 not know it by consciousness alone for conscious- 
 ness does not take cognizance of the past. He 
 knows it immediately and necessarily on the joint 
 
NUMBER. — RESEMBLANCE. 65 
 
 operation of consciousness and memory. Hence 
 we put down as the next idea that of 
 
 PERSONAL IDENTITY. 
 
 We proceed : I ask whether it would be possible 
 to observe different objects or successive events 
 without having the idea of 
 
 NUIVIBER. 
 
 If not revealed to the mind distinctly as number 
 in the first instance, it is yet so involved in all 
 repetition, and especially in the presentation of 
 different objects, that it enters in by necessity, and 
 becomes a part of the furniture of every rational 
 being. 
 
 Once more : in noticing different objects of the 
 same kind, would it be possible to avoid having 
 the idea of resemblance, and its correlative, differ- 
 ence ? Therefore, from the first, the idea of resem- 
 Vlance enters in and travels along with the mind 
 as the basis of all its classifications, and so of all 
 science. Our next idea therefore is that of 
 
 RESEMBLAl^^CE. 
 
 Besides the ideas just mentioned it is claimed 
 that those of Substance, of IMotion, and of the 
 Infinite belong here. In respect to substance my 
 only question would be whether the idea of it does 
 not so come under that of being that we need not 
 give it a separate place. As to motion the que^j- 
 
66 AN ObTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tion IS whether it be not directly apprehended by 
 the senses. If not, it belongs here. But what 
 shall I say of " The Infinite" ? This seems to me 
 to be a mere generalization, like " The True," 
 ratlier than an original and necessary idea. Tliat 
 we have the idea of infinity in connection with that 
 of space there can be no doubt. When the mind 
 has completed its intuitions in regard to space, it is 
 as certain that space is infinite as that it is at all. 
 Let the occasion arise and the idea comes by intu- 
 ition and necessity. It can come in no other way. 
 Frame to yourselves any conception you please of 
 distance, and it does not approximate infinity. 
 Suppose a flash of lightning to go on for a thou- 
 sand years, it would be no nearer a limit than when 
 it began. Of space it may be said, as has been said 
 of God, that its centre is everywhere, and its cir- 
 cumference nowhere. And the same of duration. 
 Go back as you will, and you are no nearer a 
 beginning. Hence it has been well replied, when 
 it has been asked why the w^orld was not created 
 Booner, that it was created as soon as it could be. 
 This is true, for at whatever point it might have 
 been created the same question might have been 
 asked. But the infinite which we reach in con- 
 nection with extension is different from that which 
 we reach in connection with duration. The in- 
 finity of space is one thing, that of duration is 
 another. The infinity of being, or of attributes, 
 would be still another thing, and wholly different. 
 
NECESSARY IDEAS. 67 
 
 The term infinite cannot be applied to either the 
 intellectual or moral attributes of God in the same 
 sense as to space and time. In strictness it can be 
 applied to nothing that admits of degrees or limi- 
 tation in any respect. But " The Infinite " must 
 cover all cases in which the term infinite can be 
 applied. Hence it must be found by comparison, 
 and we shall always be entitled to ask, The Infi- 
 nite what? This form of expression has its place 
 and use, but like " The Unconditioned," and 
 " The Absolute," it is so remote from ordinary 
 lines of thought and so vague and hazy that it has 
 special fitness for use when men would " darken 
 counsel by words without knowledge." 
 
 Precisely what the ideas are, and all of them, 
 that are thus originated by the mind itself, though 
 occasioned by the senses, it is not important to 
 settle ; but it is important to establish the fact of 
 such a class of ideas, and to understand their na- 
 ture and functions. How little the senses, or any- 
 thing that can properly be called experience, has 
 to do with the origin of those mentioned appears 
 from the fact that but a single object is needed 
 for them all. The taper is lighted and it burns. 
 
 I will now place before you, on the left of the line, 
 and in the order given, the ideas we have considered. 
 
 Resemblance. 
 
 Number. 
 
 Personal Identity. 
 
 Time. 
 
 Space. 
 
 Being.! 
 
 Products of the Outer 
 AND Inner Sense. 
 
G8 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 It will be observed that I have spoken hitherto 
 only of ideas that are necessa^^^ But besides ideas 
 there are also Propositions wliich are so immediately 
 connected witli the ideas as to be necessarily true. 
 This body is in space. That proposition is true, 
 and seen to be true by a necessity equal to that by 
 which we have the idea of space. The swaying of 
 that branch is in time. That is a truth whicli no 
 man can deny. To deny it would be an absurdity. 
 I will tell you what an absurdity is. It is some- 
 thing that is opposed either to a mathematical 
 demonstration, or to one of these first truths or 
 original intuitions. Anything opposed to either 
 of these is an absurdity, and that which it is im- 
 possible for the human mind to believe. 
 
 In the ideas and truths now presented we have 
 one part of our mental furniture, and we see what 
 its origin is. It originates in the mind itself, and 
 is that part of its furniture which is common to all 
 men. These ideas and truths are as the bones 
 of the mental skeleton. They are not only what 
 all men have, but must have if they are men, and 
 they abide permanently in the mind. Other ideas 
 come and go as guests. These keep the house. 
 
 But if there are such ideas and truths you will 
 want to know how they are to be tested. The test 
 of the ideas is that they are necessary, and also 
 universal in human consciousness. They are uni 
 versal because they are necessary. The test of 
 the truths is that they are necessarily and univer 
 
TESTS OF NECESSARY IDEAS. 69 
 
 sally believed. Another test sometimes given is 
 that they cannot be proved because no truths 
 plainer than themselves can be found with which 
 to prove them. Another test of these truths is, 
 that if a man denies one of them he must act as 
 if he believed it ; and that other men, let him deny 
 it as vehemently as he will, have a right to treat 
 him as if he believed it. There is nothing that 
 somebody has not claimed to disbelieve, but this 
 will be a test. Let any one, for instance, claim 
 to believe that he does not exist. I should like 
 to know whether he is not compelled to speak 
 in order to make the denial, and whether that 
 would not be acting as if he believed that he did 
 exist. Or, take the belief in personal identity. 
 Suppose a man to deny that, and to make a plea on 
 that ground before a judge. Suppose him to say ; 
 " My body changes once in seven years. Accord 
 ing to the physiologists not a particle of matter that 
 was in it seven years ago is in it now. I believe 
 that, and as I am a materialist, I believe that my 
 mind changes in the same way. I do not believe 
 that there is, or can be any such thing as personal 
 identity. It is true some one bearing my name 
 committed the murder eight years ago, but to 
 punish me would be a case of mistaken identity, 
 and unjust." Would the judge admit the plea? 
 Would he admit it himself in the case of another 
 man if that man owed him a debt? You know 
 that no sane man could believe that. If we 
 
70 AN OUTLTNE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 could possibly suppose any one to believe it, we 
 Bhould say that lie had lost his reason, and was no 
 longer to be treated as a rational being. 
 
 I have dwelt on the above because I wish to 
 show that there are certain elements and truths 
 that belong to human nature, and that mankind 
 believe in with absolute certainty. In these days, 
 when it would sometimes seem as if the founda- 
 tions of belief were to be utterly unsettled, I wish 
 to have it understood that there are some things 
 that all men believe, and must believe. 
 
 We are now prepared to see the distinction 
 between a priori ideas and those of experience 
 and also between priority in the order of time, 
 and in the order of nature. 
 
 The term a priori has been applied to those 
 ideas which originate from the mind itself on the 
 occasion of experience ; while ideas of experience 
 are those, as of external objects, which are de- 
 rived directly from the senses. The term is not 
 a happy one, but we may see how it arose. The 
 mind must itself exist prior to experience, and 
 as the capacity and necessity for forming these 
 ideas exist with equal priority as a part of its 
 oonstitution, the ideas themselves are called d 
 priori. 
 
 The distinction between the priority of nature 
 and of time has been much insisted on by some 
 philosophers, and is worthy of attention. Sensa- 
 tion is supposed to be first. I see a body, and 
 
aiETArHYSICS. 71 
 
 have knowledge of it as such. That is first in 
 the order of time. But in connection with knowl- 
 edge of body I have by necessity a knowledge 
 of space, and now I see that space must have 
 existed in the order of nature before the body. 
 It must have existed as a condition, not as a 
 cause. So a man perceives an attribute. That ia 
 first in the order of time ; he then knows at once 
 that in the order of nature the substance must 
 have been first. It is in this way that a part of 
 a priori ideas are distinguished from those of ex- 
 perience. 
 
 I will simply say in closing that I entered upon 
 this course of Lectures as an experiment, in the 
 hope of making what is commonly called meta 
 physics somewhat plain. In considering the ideas 
 and truths which have been our subject to-night, 
 we have reached that field, and I ask you if they 
 are not plain. In one aspect of them they are 
 the plainest things possible. Everybody knows 
 them, and not only so but always has known 
 them, and could not help knowing them. The 
 ideas all men have, and the propositions are such 
 %3 nobody thinks of denying except a philosopher, 
 or possibly a fool. In another aspect, however, 
 they are not plain. But this comes from theii 
 central position, and from that certainty about 
 ihem, and famiharity with them, which are such 
 in the mass of men as to prevent curiosity al>out 
 
72 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 them, or even thought. If their rehitions are 
 obscure, and their analysis diflBcult, it is for the 
 same reason that it becomes more difficult to 
 demonstrate a mathematical proposition as it 
 3omes nearer to being a self-evident truth. 
 
LECTURE IV. 
 
 THE REASON. — THE SENSES, EXTERNAL AND 
 INTERNAL. 
 
 Belng, Time, Personal Identity, Space, Nam 
 ber. Resemblance. The ideas expressed by thesft 
 words I suppose belong to all men. They are 
 the common furniture of the mind, so that we 
 Bee now what one part of its furniture is. We 
 also see how they come. They are the product 
 of the Intellect itself, and of that alone, revealing 
 itself uniformly according to its own law. They 
 are occasioned by sensation, but are in no proper 
 sense its product, since they are the same what- 
 ever the sensation may be, and, with the excep- 
 tion perhaps of Space, might all be given from 
 odors merely that would give no idea of an ex- 
 ternal world at all. So little, indeed, is the mind 
 in this department dependent upon an external 
 vorM, that it might, from the sense of smell alone, 
 rLAke comparisons endlessly, and evolve the whole 
 science of numbers. 
 
 And not only do all men have these ideas, but 
 they all believe equally those propositions which 
 aJBBrm their necessary relations. And not only 
 do they believe them, but if any one denies them 
 
74 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 in woixls we have a right to assume that he is 
 disingenuous, and to treat him as if he believed 
 them. Amidst the uncertainties of life it is plea? • 
 ant to find something that is certain, amidst the 
 Babel of opinions, a ground of common belief. 
 
 Having then this class of ideas, what name 
 shall we give them ? Some have called them in- 
 tuitions ; some, primitive ideas ; some, fundamen- 
 tal laws ; some, rational instincts ; some, iimate 
 ideas. Each of these names points to some char- 
 acteristic or function of the ideas, and their num- 
 ber is indicative of the many-sidedness and im- 
 portance of ideas that can be so variously named. 
 The term innate, at one time much used, points 
 to the origin of these ideas in the mind itself, but is 
 not correct. They are not born in us, but, as we 
 are born with eyes so that when the occasion is 
 given we see, so we are born with a capacity of 
 forming these ideas, so that when the occasion is 
 given we form them of necessity. 
 
 But if the ideas have been variously named, 
 80 has that power of the mind by which they are 
 given. Some have called it a faculty. It is not 
 properly that. The mind is said to have different 
 faculties, not that it is constituted of different 
 parts as the body is, but that it has the power of 
 acting in different ways that can be distinguished 
 and named, and its power of acting in each oi 
 these ways is called a faculty if it be under the 
 control of the will. A faculty is a power that is 
 
THE REASON. 75 
 
 under_the control of tlie will.! If not under such 
 control it is not properly a faculty. We have, 
 for instance, the faculty of speaking, but not that 
 of cu'culating the blood. We do not say that, 
 because the will has no power over it. In the 
 game way I would say that the mind has not the 
 faculty of forming these ideas, because it forms 
 them by necessity. 
 
 With these remarks about a faculty, and what 
 it is, which will serve us further on, I observe 
 that some have called the power which gives us 
 these ideas Reason, or, The Reason. Hamilton 
 and others object to this as ambiguous, and so it 
 is. Reason is often used to signify that power 
 by which we cany on the process of reasoning, 
 which is entirely different from the power by 
 which we gain the ideas that render reasoning 
 possible, and in the gainmg of which there is no 
 process. This ambiguity is especially misleading 
 from the similarity of the words, reason and rea- 
 soning ; for what is the power by which a man 
 should carry on a process of reasoning if it be not 
 reason ? There is no reasoning in obtaining these 
 ideas, and the power that gives them is not more 
 ased in processes of reasoning than in other pro- 
 cesses. Still, as reason was the word used in Ger- 
 many, and was introduced by Coleridge into Eng- 
 land in the days when transcendentalism was 
 something mysterious and was rife, it has been 
 more used in England and in tl^ country than 
 
76 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 :iuy other. But then, while its connection with 
 the word reasoning, and its general use for all the 
 powers of man in distinction from those of the 
 brute, furnish a reason why it should not be used, 
 its comiection with the word rational, furnishes a 
 eason why it should. As I have said, if a man 
 deny any one of the truths involved in these ideas, 
 or fail in any way to act under their regulative 
 influence, we say that he has lost his reason, and 
 Burely that must be reason which a man has lost 
 when he ceases to be rational. 
 
 Another term that has been used is Common 
 Sense. That was used by Reid and the Scotch 
 philosophers, when they felt the need of going 
 back to first principles in order to meet the skepti- 
 cism of Hume. They called that which gives us this 
 class of ideas Common Sense, because the ideas be- 
 long to all men. And that was a good reason ; but 
 here again the term was ambiguous, and, as in the 
 other case, preoccupied. Common Sense was then 
 universally taken to mean, as it does now, that per- 
 ception, apparently without a process, by which 
 the average man comes to apprehend the common 
 relations, and to conform himself to the common 
 proprieties of life. The judgments formed in 
 this way seem to be instantaneous and intuitive, 
 as those of distance, or, as those formed through 
 what is called tact in any particular business when 
 once the tact is gained, but they are not intuitive. 
 Tliey are the result of a process. Understood in 
 
NAAIE OF THE POWEB. 77 
 
 this way, common sense is something that may be 
 acquired, and in which men may be improved, but 
 simulating intuition as it does, the ambiguity was 
 unfortunate. The difference was not generally 
 perceived even by philosophers; and Priestley, and 
 the English generally, ridiculed the Scotch for 
 turning philosophy over to common sense. 
 
 Intuition has also been used to indicate the 
 Boui-ce of these ideas. This is the term preferred 
 by President Porter. It indicates the immediate- 
 uess and necessity of the knowledge we gain by it. 
 The difficulty vnth it is that we have other intu- 
 itions, as those connected with the operations of 
 the senses and with mathematical reasoning. 
 
 Hamilton called it the Regulative Faculty. 
 This points to the office of its products as accom- 
 panying and regulating all the other operations of 
 the mind. The difficulty with this is, that it is not 
 a Faculty at all, as not being under the control of 
 the will. ^ 
 
 By some German writers Faith has been used 
 in this connection, and also by Sir William Ham- 
 ilton and Dr. McCosh. By them all it is spoken 
 .of as a special faculty or power. Hamilton says : 
 " Faith — Belief is the organ by which we appre- 
 hend what is beyond our knowledge;"^ and he 
 refers our belief in the Infinite to that. Dr. 
 McCosh does the same, but makes it more gen- 
 sral. He says : " It is that operation of the soul 
 
 1 Lect. xxxviii 
 
78 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 in which we are convinced of the existence of 
 what is not before us." Also, that " It is a na- 
 tive ensrgy of the mind quite as much as Knowl- 
 edge is." ^ It is much to be desired that this 
 term should be freed from its ambiguities, but this 
 can never be while it is used to signify any oper- 
 ation of the pure intellect, or, if you please, with 
 no reference to any estimate of persons. As re- 
 lated to Faith, the operations of the Intellect are 
 of two kinds. They either give us certainty or 
 they do not. If they give us certainty, that is 
 Knowledge, and not Faith. If they do not give 
 us certainty, then we have mere belief, or opinion, 
 and the reasonableness of the belief or the value 
 of the opinion will depend on the evidence on 
 which it rests. Is, then, our assent to a propo- 
 sition when there is more evidence for it than 
 against it Faith ? Certainly not. If any one is 
 certain from the operations of his own mind, or in 
 any other way, that there is such a thing as what 
 we may please to call the Infinite, then he knows 
 it as he knows other things. And if so let him 
 say so, and not run the whole subject into mysti- 
 cism by attributing it to a mysterious principle 
 called Faith, and then opposing Faith to Knowl- 
 edge. Faith as an energy or principle can neither 
 be opposed to Knowledge nor compared with it 
 for Knowledge is a result. There is properly no 
 faith till we bring in the element of confidence in 
 
 1 Jntuitiofu of the Mind, p. il9. 
 
THE REASON. 79 
 
 a person. If we believe a thing because a person 
 says so, there is faith. Into the confidence we re- 
 pose in a person there enters an element of choice 
 and of will, which can have no place in any oper- 
 ation of the intellect alone in any of its forms, and 
 without €hat element there can be nothing that 
 ought to be called faith, or that can be, without 
 introducing confusion. 
 
 What name then shall we adopt ? On the 
 whole I prefer the term Reason, as giving us the 
 term rational — not reasonable, which is quite an- 
 other thing — and would say that the ideas and 
 truths of which we have been speaking are imme- 
 diately given, or intuitively apprehended by the 
 Reason. 
 
 We next inquire after the function, or office, of 
 these ideas and truths. As elemental and condi- 
 tional for all mental action, and for the action of 
 brutes as well as of men, their office is low, just as 
 that of gi-avitation is low. Certainly the brutes 
 know these, so far at least that they are assumed 
 in their actions. The only question is, whether 
 they consciously recognize them as elements, and 
 as involved in all that they are and do. And be- 
 cause they are thus elemental no proposition or 
 knowledge respecting them can ever bo directly 
 practical. In the practical question. What is the 
 cause of this particular sound *i^ it is assumed that 
 the sound had a cause, that that which caused it 
 had being, that that being was in space, and that 
 
80 AN OUTLTNE STUDl OF MAN. 
 
 the causing of it Wii3 in time. Neither can we 
 make direct iise of these ideas and truths as prov- 
 ing anything ; but without them the propositions 
 necessary for proof could not be framed. They 
 have been well compared by Stewart to the lime 
 that cements the sand in mortar, or to the vincula 
 in a chain, where the hnks that produce the exten- 
 sion do not interlock. Being given by an invol- 
 untary process they can be neither proved nor dis- 
 proved, but are assumed in every proposition that 
 can be thus dealt with. Not being the product 
 of experience, except as we must have experience 
 in order to know anything, they make experience 
 possible and valuable ; they give it coherence. 
 
 With so great a difference in the origin and office 
 of that furniture of the mind which is on the left 
 side of the perpendicular line I have drawn, we 
 should expect to find a similar difference in its 
 processes — in the mode and result of its working. 
 We should expect to find such a difference that 
 they ought not to be called by the same name. 
 And that we do find. It seems to me unfortunate 
 that such terms as generalization, and induction, 
 should be applied to mental acts that have their 
 beginning, and middle, and end, in intuition and 
 certainty. Generalization and induction may take 
 place on the right side of the line, but that which 
 characterizes them there is wholly wanting on the 
 left side. All proper generalization proceeds od 
 the ground of simiLarity and comparison, but there 
 
INTUniON NOT INDUCTION. 81 
 
 is no such ground for the movement on the left 
 hand side. In all proper induction as we have it 
 on the right side of the line, the conclusion be- 
 comes more certain by the bringing in of repeated 
 instances ; and if, in this way, certainty can be 
 reached in any case, yet necessity never can. But 
 on the left side the certainty is as great at the 
 outset as it can ever be, and whatever is affirmed 
 as true is seen to be so by necessity. But radical 
 as this difference is, able men continue to apply 
 the same terms to mental acts on both sides of the 
 line, and thus confound things that differ. ^m^/' 
 
 But if there is no generalization or induction on 
 the left side, what are the mental acts that take 
 place ? It is conceded that we first gain truth in 
 the concrete. Our first affirmation is, not that 
 space is, separate from body, but that the body ia 
 in space. What then is the process by which we 
 come to the knowledge that every body is in space, 
 and must be ? Not by comparison, or general- 
 ization, or induction, but by what I should call ex- 
 tension — an extension to all subsequent cases of 
 the same intuitive and necessary judgment that 
 we had to begin with. That every event has a 
 cause is no proper generalization gained by com- 
 parison. It is a proposition assented to by the 
 same necessity as the particular truth, as soon as 
 the meaning of the words is understood. But in- 
 duction, unless it be by complete enumeration, 
 which is frivolous, does not give necessity. The 
 
82 AK OUTLINI STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 same lb true of the affirmation that every event 
 must have a cause, and of the infinity of space. 
 When the occasion arrives for the mind to affirm 
 these, it does it by an intuitive judgment similar 
 in nature and authority to those which bad gone 
 before. The time may be delayed, the occasion 
 may not come, but if it does come the judgment is 
 intuitive and necessary. 
 
 But the word, being — is not that general, that 
 is, formed by generalization ? Not as here used. 
 When I affirm for the first time of a body, that it 
 i«, or exists, or has heing^ I have received a speci- 
 fic, necessary, permanent element in my mind that 
 I am compelled to carry with me in all my think- 
 ing. I am brought, either actually or potentially, 
 face to face with a myster}^ that never can be 
 solved — the mystery of being. That something 
 is I know, but can never know how anything 
 came to be. Is it said that there is nothing in 
 nature that corresponds to the term being ? It 
 may be replied that everything corresponds to it 
 .01 such a sense that we are compelled to affirm it 
 of every new object. But is not this term, being, 
 the very one made use of to express the highest 
 generalization, the summum genus ? Yes, but that 
 is only because, at that point, all that has been 
 gained by experience is dropped, and nothing is 
 left but that with which we began. 
 
 You will see then that I would separate broadly 
 in their origin, and characteristics, the products 
 that we find on the left hand side of the line from 
 
SENSATION. 8 
 
 Q 
 
 those on the right. JJntil that shall be done, I do 
 not think that metaphysical subjects can be treated 
 of with clearness. In nearly all metaphysical trea- 
 tises these products arc considered last, but I al- 
 ways thought, if I were to write a book on mental 
 philosophy, which I never expected to do, I would 
 place them first. They are first in the order of 
 nature, they are the lowest and most elemental, 
 they are involved in all the processes that come 
 after, and are needed to explain them. 
 
 Having thus considered the mental acts and 
 products on the left hand side of the line— our 
 rational intuitions, so far as the intellect alone is 
 concerned, we pass to those on the right. Here we 
 find Sensation, and Perception, through which we 
 gain a knowledge of an external world. By sensa- 
 tion we mean the result in consciousness of any af- 
 fection of the sensorium. It is a state of mind 
 produced through the sensorium by something act- 
 ing upon it that is independent of the mind. By 
 perception we mean that knowledge which we 
 gain of external objects through sensation. ■ Sen- 
 sation is what it is felt to be. It is our own state 
 in consequence of action from without. Perception 
 is a knowledge of the being and state of some- 
 thing without ourselves in consequence of action 
 from within. What then is it that each sense 
 gives ? and how is it that through the senses w>i 
 get a knowledge of an external world ? 
 
84 AN OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 On tliese points I do not i^groe fully with the 
 more prominent writers. They are points on 
 which you are all qualified to judge. My object 
 will be to bring the subject fairly before you, stat- 
 ing my own opinion. In doing this, perhaps I can- 
 not do better than to take each of the senses sep- 
 arately, and inquire what that would give acting 
 wholly by itself. In doing this, however, I must 
 premise the difficulty there is in making this ab- 
 straction perfectly. From the first the senses have 
 acted together, and it is most difficult for us to 
 imagine the isolation and poverty of one wholly 
 alone. A full appreciation of this would, I can- 
 not help thinking, have modified the opinions on 
 this subject of some able thinkers. 
 
 Let us take, then, the sense of smell, for that is 
 the simplest, and what does that give ? Suppose 
 a man organized with no sense but this. His 
 mind is entirely vacant, as not yet awakened by 
 any sensation. There comes to him an odor. 
 \yhat would he know in consequence of that? 
 Would he know that there was an external world ? 
 or a sensorium ? or any being besides himself ? 
 Yes, says President Porter. According to him. 
 " Every sense gives the knowledge of an extended 
 uon-e^o." ^ Others agree with him. I can only 
 say that it does not seem so to me. I think the 
 man would suppose the sensation to be a feehng 
 which arose in him spontaneously, as thought does 
 
 1 Human Intellect, p. 183. 
 
SENSATION THEOUGH TASTE AND HEARING. 86 
 
 He would have no feeling, no eyes, no touch, nc 
 motion. His own existence as modified by the 
 sensation he might know, but what one propei-ty 
 of matter, or of space as external to himself, could 
 he know ? This is a simple case. It seems to me 
 plain, but if it be not so to others there is no way 
 of making it plainer. 
 
 The sense of taste is allied to that of smell by 
 the proximity of the organs, and the similarity of 
 the sensations they give. They differ in that taste 
 is always associated with touch ; smell never. 
 But this is incidental. It is because the nerves of 
 taste and of touch are inextricably blended. But 
 there is a nerve of taste just as, there is one of 
 smell. That nerve gives taste and nothing else. 
 Touch it, and there is no response. If, therefore, 
 this nerve could act by itself, taste would be 
 nothing more than a smell in the mouth. It 
 would be a sensation, which is what it is felt to 
 be, and nothing more, and could not be interpreted 
 as a sign of anything external and beyond itself. 
 % But hearing — how is it with that ? Hero 
 again, there is no touch, and the sensation, by no 
 agency of ours, and simply as a sensation, comes 
 and goes. With no other agency, standing wholly 
 alone, I do not see how the mind could reach any- 
 thing through this but the sensation. .-4^^ 
 
 Up to this point I should not be 8urj^»rised ii 
 many, perhaps the most of you, have agreed with 
 me, but we now come to sight, and most people 
 
86 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN 
 
 beb'eve that by means of that we come at once tc 
 the knowledge of an external world. Do we ? 
 Sight is like smell and hearing in not being asso- 
 ciated with touch. It gives its own product, and 
 that alone. It differs from those senses in our 
 having direct control over the organ. We can 
 move the eye by itself, and so control and modify 
 the sensation it gives. Here, I think, lies the 
 main difference on the point in question between 
 this sense and the others. If an eye were set in 
 stone, and held fixed what would it see ? Color, 
 certainly. Some say form. But form of what ? 
 Nobody supposes that the eye originally gives form 
 in more than one dimension — that we see a globe 
 or a cube as such. It could be then but a colored 
 surfa-ce. But under those circumstances what 
 could be known of surface or extension ? Could 
 the form be anything more than the form of color, 
 and would that be known as form at all ? I think 
 not. To me it seems that there would be, as in 
 the other cases, sensation and nothing more, some- 
 thing purely subjective. The sense would not 
 perceive or recognize itself. No sense does that. 
 It presents its object and nothing else. In the 
 case of the eye I think that would be color, and 
 that only. 
 
 We next come to touch. Of course when we 
 touch a thing we have it. Yes, when we touch it. 
 But suppose it touches us. Suppose, as before, the 
 whole organization to be encased in stone except 
 
 »D 
 
SENSATION AND PEBCEPTIOV 87 
 
 the point of a finger ani then that something 
 should touch tliat point. It must touch merely, 
 not press it, for touch is to be carefully distin- 
 guished from pressure. Suppose this, and what 
 would you have ? A knowledge of anything but 
 a mere subjective sensation ? I think not. You 
 wuuld have all there is of the sense regarded as 
 passive, and it would be as little likely to give us 
 externality, or anything that can come under the 
 definition of matter as the sense of smell. 
 
 I think a mind thus situated would be in hope- 
 less perplexity. If, however, the senses thus act- 
 ing would give the knowledge of space and of 
 some being besides ourselves, they would not give 
 is a loiowledge of matter and of the material 
 world. 
 
 If, then, we do not get a knowledge of the exter- 
 nal world by any one of the five senses, acting 
 singly, or by them all acting together, how do we 
 get it ? 
 
 My view on this whole subject can be briefly 
 stated. I have spoken of sensation as originating 
 in a movement from without inward, and of per- 
 ception as originating in a movement from within 
 outward. This gives us our principle, or rather 
 principles, foi there are three propositions that we 
 need to state. 
 
 The first is, that whatever originates from with- 
 out by no agency of ours, and is communicated to 
 us by a movement from without inward, is known 
 
88 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 as subjective, that is, as a mere sensation, and 
 would give us no knowledge of an external oi 
 material world. 
 
 The second proposition is, that whatever resists, 
 or in any way modifies, a muscular movement vol- 
 untarily put forth, that is, a movement from within 
 outward, is known as objective, and would reveal 
 to us an external world, the resistance of course 
 being kno\vn through the general sensibility as 
 distinguished from the sense of touch. In the one 
 case we have simply action from without, in the 
 other reaction. And this makes a great difference, 
 for we thus get the two forms of our life, as passive 
 and active. Li the first we know ourselves as in a 
 state that has come by no power of our will. In 
 the second we know ourselves as agents, and thus, 
 and thus only come to a knowledge of our proper 
 selves. This knowledge of ourselves as agents, 
 and of that upon which we are to act, I suppose we 
 gain at the same time by one concrete act. At this 
 point we come to the knowledge of opposing forces 
 and to the beginning of the struggle of life. 
 
 The third proposition is, that after thus gaining 
 immediately and necessarily a knowledge of mat- 
 ter, that which is subjective, all mere sensations, be- 
 come signs the significance of which we learn by 
 comparison and experience as we learn a language, 
 
 Tiiese propositions I give you as my opinion, 
 but without the time, or indeed the wish, to illua 
 trate and defend them They are simply an opin 
 
•* THE ACQXraiED PERCEPTIONS." 89 
 
 ion, as I do not remember what happened bo long 
 ago. Many do not receive them, and will not. 
 Perhaps the more prevalent opinion is that in all 
 sensation we know the sensorium as an extended 
 something distinct from ourselves with which we 
 yet act in conjunction, and that subsequently we 
 gain by experience a knowledge of the other parts 
 of the body, and then of a world wholly beyond 
 ourselves ! The questions at issue here I do not 
 regard as of great importance provided we are 
 allowed to gain, in some way, an immediate knowl- 
 edge of an external and material world. 
 
 The third of the propositions just now stated 
 was that all mere sensations are signs, the signifi- 
 cance of which we learn as we do a language. 
 This many will not accept in full, but they do and 
 must accept it in part, as it is illustrated in what 
 are called 
 
 THE ACQUIRED PERCEPTIONS. 
 This brings us to an interesting subject and I will 
 eay a word upon it. 
 
 Nothing is more admirable than the economy of 
 Lhe senses, and by this I mean the small capital 
 with which they begin compared with their ulti- 
 mate wealth. One reason of this is that each bor- 
 rows from all the rest, and often in such a way 
 that it is hard to distinguish between the borrowed 
 and the original capital. I have already spoken of 
 5ight in this aspect. This is the richest of the 
 senses, and like most rich men in this country, 
 began poor. It had orifirinally nothing but color. 
 
90 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 or at best forin in one dimension, but it Immedi 
 ately begins to borrow, and especially from touch. 
 Much the larger part of what sight gives us was 
 originally from touch. As has been said, it is only 
 by touch that we know a globe to be a globe, a 
 cube a cube, or any solid body to be what it is. In 
 the same way also, and so only, do we originally 
 know hardness, softness, roughness, smoothness, 
 fluidity, viscidity, heat, cold, and yet all these are 
 given by sight, and in such a way that most people 
 do not know that they have not always been given 
 by it. Sight does, indeed, become a more extended 
 touch, so that by it we can know, as by intuition, 
 and seemingly by direct perception, the tangible 
 properties of distant objects. We can see that the 
 pohshed marble is smooth, and the file hard and 
 rough, that water is fluid, and tar sticky, that 
 molten iron is hot, and snow cold. 
 
 So too sight borrows of the other senses, but 
 not so extensively. We see that the rose is fra- 
 grant, and the bell sonorous, and that sugar is 
 sweet. With some persons the sight of a nauseou3 
 object acts as an emetic. They see that it is nau- 
 seous. And not only does sight thus borrow from 
 the other senses, it appropriates, and ultimately 
 presents as its own, the products of the judgment. 
 This is true of distance. It seems settled that 
 some animals have an intuitive knowledge of dis- 
 tance Chickens strike their food at first with the 
 same precision as afterwards. It seems equally 
 
BORROWING BY THE SENSES. 91 
 
 settled that man has not the knowledge of dis- 
 tance in this way. He gains it by a process, or 
 rather by certain processes, in which size, and dis- 
 tinctness, and intervening objects, and probably 
 the movement of the eyes as affecting the angle 
 of vision, become elements ; but these processes 
 become so famihar that we disregard them, and 
 notice only the result. That seems to be given 
 at once, and as the immediate product of sight. 
 Most persons would say, perhaps all who have not 
 reflected upon it, that the knowledge of distance 
 is as immediate as that of color which we seem to 
 see in the distance. And as we gain by sight a 
 knowledge of distance that seems immediate, so 
 do we of the thoughts and emotions of others. 
 What we see is the flush on the cheek, a slight 
 change of color merely. What we think of is its 
 cause as it reveals, it may be an emotion, it may 
 be a purpose. But all this is by acquired percep- 
 tion. It is the knowledge of one thing by means 
 of another, and not direct knowledge We have 
 learned it precisely as we have learned the mean- 
 ing of words and of letters. The signs by which 
 we reach it are a language, and the earhest lan- 
 guage learned. It is this very early acquisition of 
 the language that sinks its signs and processes so 
 far out of sight ; indeed, attention to them would 
 defeat the end for which the language was given. 
 As was said, sight is the largest borrower, and 
 we have seen what vast wealth it gains in this way 
 
92 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 but the other senses are not slow in taking np the 
 same method. By hearing we come to kno-w 
 direction, and distance, and form. The voice of a 
 friend, his footstep, his knock, brings him before 
 us. The click of the telegraph reveals the oper- 
 ator tliree thousand miles distant. By the ear the 
 physician can see what is passing within the body. 
 But I need not specify further. Cases in which 
 visible and tangible qualities are presented through 
 smell and taste will readily occur to you. I will 
 only add that when sight is taken away the power 
 of the other senses to gain acquired perception is 
 greatly quickened. It is marvellous what reach 
 and delicacy they will then gain. It was said that 
 Julia Brace, in the seminary at Hartford, deaf, 
 and dumb, and blind, could distribute the clothes 
 by the sense of smell after they had been washed. 
 From this extent and reach of the acquired per- 
 ceptions we shall readily see how it is that the 
 senses are deceived, or are said to be. It is from 
 a misinterpretation of signs. Such deception may 
 occur in connection with any set of signs, if it be 
 possible that the sign should be present without 
 the thing signified. So it is sometimes in a paint- 
 ing, in an echo, in a stick seeming bent in the 
 water, in our own seeming motion when an oppo- 
 site car moves ; in the seeming motion of the 
 heavens when it is we that move. So also it i/» 
 when the nerves are so affected by disease that w« 
 seem to see sights and to hear sounds. In al: 
 
A PERCEPT NOT A THING. 93 
 
 these cases the sign is present without the reality, 
 but in direct perception this cannot take place. -^-'' 
 After the account just given of perception, you 
 will readUy see what a percept must be as distin- 
 guished from a thing. This is a word that has 
 recently come into use, but it is needed. A per- 
 cept is what is given by any one sense. The color 
 of an object as distinguished from the object is a 
 percept. So of its hardness, or form, or odor. 
 In a thing ^ on the other hand, we have a number 
 of percepts combined at the same time, in the 
 same place, and under the idea of substance. To 
 form a thing we must have at least three ideas 
 from the left hand side of the upright line that I 
 drew. This stick has color, form, hardness. Each 
 of these is a percept, but to make a thing they 
 must be combined at one time and place under the 
 idea of substance. To these, other percepts might 
 be added. It might have odor and taste, and be 
 sonorous, and all would be combined and form 
 a part of one notion of the thing. Because our 
 notion of the thing is gained through perception 
 some have called the thing a percept, but this can 
 only cause confusion. A thing is formed, or rather 
 our notion of it, by combining in one notion tho 
 product of different senses with rational ideas. 
 Hence, because the materials are thus gathered 
 eparately and brought together, and also because 
 of the use made of it, perhaps I might as weD say 
 here that I call it a concept, — an individual con- 
 
94 AN OUTLIME STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 eept^ to distinguish it from a general one to be 
 spoken of hereafter.^ / 
 
 We have now dwelt perhaps sufficiently, on 
 Sense-perception, through wliicli we get so large 
 a part of the furniture of the mind. We have 
 seen what the furniture is which we thus get, and 
 how we get it. But besides this there is another 
 wide department in which we gain immediate, or 
 presentative knowledge. We have the power of 
 knowing immediately not only the objects around 
 us, but also the processes and products of our own 
 minds. This power of turning back and making 
 the processes and products of the mind the object 
 of his thought, of classifying and reasoning about 
 them as about external objects, is supposed to be 
 peculiar to man. At any rate, it is essential to 
 him. It is the condition of self-knowledge, and of 
 rational self-government. How else can he know 
 what powers are higher, what lower, what are im- 
 pulsive, and what governing ? Rational self-gov- 
 ernment implies the ability to survey all our pow- 
 ers together with their objects, and not merely 
 to know what their action is, but to determine 
 what it shall be. Full self-knowledge requires 
 that we know not only our motives, which per- 
 tains to character, but also our powers as they are 
 '•n themselves, as they are related to each other, 
 and as adapted to attain the end of our being. 
 This biings us into a realm, not only wide, but of 
 
 1 See Schuyler's Logic^ p. 17. 
 
THE INNER SENSE. 96 
 
 the deepest interest, because through tnis we not 
 merely know ourselves, but also our fellow-men. 
 So far as God has made men alike we have a right 
 to judge others by ourseVes. That this knowledge 
 is immediate all agree. It must be, for nothing 
 can come between the mind and its own processes 
 and products. 
 
 But what shall we call that faculty, or form of 
 the mind's activity, by which we have this knowl- 
 edge ? Hamilton calls it Self -consciousness, and so 
 does President Porter. To this I object, first, be- 
 cause I do not see what consciousness of any kind 
 has to do with one kind of knowledge more than 
 another; and, second, because a consciousness of 
 the operations of the mind is not a consciousness of 
 self. The operations of the mind are no more itself 
 than external objects are, and when the j^roducts 
 of mind become objective, or objects to the mind, 
 they are like other objects. Hamilton says that 
 this power has been called Reflex Perception. This 
 is well as putting it in contrast with Sense Percep- 
 tion, but it is not properly perception at all. It has 
 also been called the Inner Sense. To this there 
 would be no objection if we might call Sense Per- 
 ception the outer sense. As it is, it is, perfiaps, 
 the best name we can give. The name is not 
 important provided we understand the thing and 
 it be not ambiguous, and so, misleading. It is be- 
 cause I think it ambiguous and misleading, that 
 I object to Self -consciousness. 
 
96 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 But call this power what we may, we have re- 
 vealed through it an inner world more wonderful 
 even than that which is without, — a world of in- 
 teUigence, of comprehension, of feehng, of will, oi 
 personality, and of moral, mstead of physical law. 
 It is a world whose phenomena we can study and 
 aiTange as we do those of the external world ; but 
 as in the external world, the phenomena them- 
 selves must be immediately given. We must in 
 some way intuitively and necessarily know them 
 to be. This we do know, and we thus have our 
 third and last department and kind of mental fur- 
 niture. 
 
 We have now answered, conjointly as we were 
 compelled to do, two of the questions originally 
 proposed. First, what is in the mind? and, sec- 
 ond, how came it there ? The result may be pre- 
 sented to the eye thus, if we suppose the upright 
 line to represent a man possessed of intellect only, 
 and objects of sense to be presented before him 
 
 5^ 
 
 
 Number. I THE INNER SENSE. oQ '^ ) Feeling. 
 
 "^ ^ Per. Idejjtitt. I ^ tz ' Thought. 
 
 Time. I ►^ S ( Objects. 
 
 Space. isENSE PERCEPTION. H W ) PERCEPTa 
 
 Being. | ^ v 
 
 THE REASON, THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 
 
 OR, 
 
 INTUITION, 
 
 OB, THE 
 
 REG. FACULTY. 
 
 Here we have two departments of mental fur 
 
THREE DEPARTMENTS. 97 
 
 niture of different origin. The first is given by 
 Reason, or Intuition, or the Regulative Faculty, as' 
 you may please to call it. The second is given by 
 the Presentative Faculty. The products of the 
 Reason are few. The great mass of our ci*^.ntal 
 furniture is given by the Presentative Faculty 
 This is divided into two depaitments : the world 
 of sense, and the world of mind, with an infinity 
 of obJ3cts in each. The products on the right- 
 hand side of the upright line differ endlessly in 
 different minds, and we combine them in every- 
 way as we please. Those on the left hand are the 
 same in all men. We cannot manipulate and 
 combme them as the others. That is the region 
 of necessity. They are given by necessity, we 
 must have them to be men. All modifications 
 and changes in or among themselves, whatever 
 they may be, are by necessity ; and they enter by 
 necessity as elements into all our thinking. 
 
 We have thus three departments of mental fur- 
 niture vdth different characteristics and laws. 
 We have a priori ideas and truths ; we have the 
 external world ; and the processes of our ovm 
 painds. Each is necessary to the others, and ?dl 
 combine in giving us a rational being standing 
 face to face with an unlimited univei-se which ha 
 is to investigate. 
 
 7 
 
LECTURE V. 
 
 BKCAPITULiATION. — CONSCIOUSNESS. — THEORIES, 
 BELIEFS, AND PRACTICAL RESULTS. 
 
 In investigating mind we have now answered 
 two questions : first, What is in the mind ? and 
 second. How did it get there ? We say that there 
 are in the mind necessary ideas, and that in con- 
 nection with them we reach necessary truths. 
 These ideas come, not by sensation or perception, 
 hut on the occasion of them. They are given by 
 the native power of the mind as an original source 
 of ideas. They are not innate, but the mind is 
 so pre-formed that it necessarily originates these 
 ideas. The truths are self-evident and necessary. 
 Neither the ideas nor the truths are reached by 
 what is properly a faculty, as it is not subject to 
 the control of the will. We call that which gives 
 thera Reason, Intuition, the Regulative Faculty. 
 
 Then we have that furniture of the mind which 
 Is gained through sensation and perception. Thii 
 we have in two ways : directly through perception, 
 Indirectly through sensation. That which come? 
 through perception I hold that we get immediately 
 intuitively, necessarily, through that power of 
 motion by which we know ourselves as causes, and 
 
DIRECT PERCEPTION BY CONTACT. 99 
 
 through that resistance of bodies by which we 
 know them, not as causes in the same sense in 
 which we are, but as substances. Motion originat- 
 ing in us presupposes a cause in us. It also im- 
 plies space, and as necessarily as body does. It 
 implies both time and space ; and resistance to mo- 
 tion made by our own effort gives us a permanent 
 substance out of ourselves and other than ourselves, 
 which is matter. According to this, direct percep- 
 tion takes place only when there is contact, with 
 pressure. All besides that is called perception is 
 indirect. This knowledge some impute to what is 
 now called the muscular sense. It comes, indeed, 
 on the occasion of resistance to muscular effort, and 
 is commonly confounded with what is given by the 
 sense of touch ; but sensation is not perception. 
 Sensation is on the occasion of a movement from 
 without inward ; direct perception is on the occa- 
 sion of a movement from within outward, and is 
 an immediate recognition of substance as external 
 to ourselves. Mere sensation, being wholly within 
 us, with no sense of effort from within, and with 
 no resistance or pressure from w^ithout, which is 
 all that any one of the five senses really gives, 
 would give us cause, whether within or from with- 
 out perhaps we could not tell, but it would not give 
 Is substance external to ourselves. 
 
 You thus see that I hold to an immediate knowl- 
 edge of an external world rationally and necessa- 
 rily obtained ; and also how I do this without at- 
 
100 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tributiiig it to any one of what are called the five 
 Benses. The notices given by them I regard as a 
 set of signs to be interpreted, as a language to be 
 learned, and not as giving us immediate and neces- 
 sary knowledge except of some cause — not neces- 
 sarily of anything without U6. Not simply by sen- 
 sation, but by an operation proceeding from within 
 outward, involving the action of the mind as ra- 
 tional, bringing in the ideas of cause, of substance, 
 and of space do I suppose that the mind takes cog- 
 nizance by its native power of something that is 
 not itseK. I suppose the mind is thus introduced 
 to material substance as that which it is to control, 
 and to space as the field in which it is to control it. 
 It is, as I think, because the proof of an external 
 world has been made to rest on a set of signs that 
 need to be interpreted, rather than on immediate 
 knowledge that it has been possible, as so many 
 philosophers have done, to deny the existence of 
 an external world. The distinction has not been 
 properly made between the immediate perception 
 of substance and its mediate perception through 
 something intermediate. 
 
 The furniture of the mind given by perception 
 as now explained is contingent and variable. 
 That which is in the mind of one man may differ 
 entirely from that which is in the mind of an 
 other, so that those things which have been fa- 
 miliar from uifancy to one may be unknown to 
 another, or may be regarded as a curiosity. I re* 
 
THE MIND FUKNISHED. 101 
 
 member to have heard Mr. Everett say, when he 
 was President of Harvard College, that a boy from 
 one of the Rice Islands of the South was com- 
 mended to his special care, and that when he asked 
 him the morning after he came what he would 
 like to see, he said he thought he should like to see 
 some rocks, and so he sent him over to Nahant. 
 
 Then we have, in the third place, besides the 
 knowledge of an external world, an immediate 
 knowledge of the operations of our own minds, of 
 our thoughts, our feelings, and our volitions. And 
 this again is a vast world, contingent and variable, 
 and not the same for any two men. 
 
 These two, the outer and the inner sense, com- 
 monly called sense-perception and self -consciousness, 
 make up what is called the Presentative Faculty, or 
 the Faculty of immediate knowledge. Some faculty 
 by which we know immediately and necessarily we 
 must have if we are to know at all. When we 
 know thus we are said to have presentative knowl- 
 edge, and the Presentative Faculty is divided i/ito 
 those two branches or departments by which ye 
 get a knowledge of the external and the internal 
 worlds. By these, or by this, together with The 
 Reason, the mind is furnished, and we thus answer 
 the two questions, "What is in the mind ^ and. How 
 did it get there? We thus give our sohition of the 
 Fexed problem of the origin of knowledge. 
 
 Materials being thus given, the next inquiry 
 fvould naturally be, what operations the mind can 
 
102 AN OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 perform with those materials. But there is one 
 operation having relation not so much to the ma- 
 terial as to the mind itself, and so involved in all 
 the others that it stands by itself and will need to 
 be understood before we shall be ready to go on to 
 the CQnsideration of what are properly the opera- 
 tions of the mind upon the materials given. That 
 operation is what is commonly called 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS. '^ ^ 
 
 This is not a condition for the other operations 
 of the mind, and so needing to be considered be- 
 fore them. They are a condition for it, since, in 
 the order of nature, the mind must know before it 
 can be conscious of knowing. Nothing within the 
 mind is, or can be, a condition of the operations 
 of the mind but the mind itself. The condition of 
 knowing is a mind endowed with the faculty of 
 knowing ; and the condition of consciousness is an 
 operation of the mind of which it can be con- 
 acious. ) 
 
 What then is consciousness ? As universal, and 
 as thus intimate to the mind, we might suppose 
 it would be among the plainest of all things, but 
 instead of this there is nothing in which writers 
 are less agreed. What then do we mean by it ? 
 Can we find a definition that wdll enable us to be 
 consistent with ourselves in the use of the term ? 
 I know of no writer on this subject who haa been 
 thus self-consistent. 
 
r 
 r CONSCIOUSNESS. 103 
 
 Whatever Consciousness may be, there are three 
 characteristics attributed to it by common con- 
 sent, and^hese it must have. The first is, as its 
 etymology, con-scio, implies, that it can never be 
 alone. It must always accompany some other 
 operation of the mind, and does in fact equally ac- 
 company all mental operations. The second char- 
 acteristic is that it must be infallible. It must be 
 something that never does, or can, deceive us. In 
 this all are agreed, for, if our consciousness can 
 deceive us, there is nothing between us and univer- 
 sal skepticism. The third characteristic is that 
 consciousness is not a separate faculty. A separate 
 faculty has its own domain, and is subject to the 
 will. It is not a faculty, but is involuntary ; is alike 
 in all the race ; and is a necessary act concomitant 
 with all mental acts of which we know anything. 
 It has an equal and common relation to all the 
 faculties. 
 
 ^ We inquire then, first, is Consciousness, as is 
 aaid by Sir WilHam Hamilton, " the knowing that 
 we know ? " He says that consciousness differs 
 from knowledge in this : in knowledge we know, 
 and in consciousness we know that we know. But 
 if the act of knowledge does not suffice to itself, it 
 can avail nothing to have another act of knowl- 
 edge back of that. No one can know without 
 knowing that he knows, and nothing is gained by 
 thus dividing and giving names to the two as- 
 pects of one indivisible act. But Hamilton went 
 
104 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN 
 
 further, and the main pecuharity of his view is that 
 m bemg conscious that we know, we are also con- 
 scious of the thing kno^vn, or of that which the 
 knowledge respects. Thus, our knowledge of a 
 table, according to him, includes a consciousness of 
 the table. He said it was absurd to assume to 
 be conscious of knowing the table without being 
 conscious of the thing known, thus giving us, as 
 you see, the evidence of consciousness for the ex- 
 istence of an external world. This was thought 
 important as being decisive against the IdeaUsta 
 and all those who deny the existence of anything 
 external to the mind. But this is to confound 
 consciousness with perception. If we do not have 
 by direct perception a knowledge of the external 
 world that suffices to itself we can never have it 
 at all. If we do, then consciousness is not needed 
 for that purpose. 
 
 We inquire then, again, is not Consciousness a 
 knowledge by the mind of its own operations? 
 That is the common definition. " The most gen- 
 eral characteristic," says Hamilton, " of conscious- 
 ness, is that it is the recognition by the thinking 
 eubject of its own acts or affections." ^ So 
 President Porter says, " Consciousness is briefly 
 defined as the power by which the soul knows it? 
 own acts and states." But in saying this they 
 seem to confound their definition of consciousness 
 with that which they give of self -consciousness, or 
 what I liave called the inner sense, regarded as a 
 
 1 Lect. zi. p. 13». 
 
CONSCIOUSNESS. 105 
 
 branch of the Presentative Faculty. Hamilton 
 says that " self -consciousness is the power by which 
 we apprehend the phenomena of the internal 
 world." 1 How, I ask, does this differ from his 
 definition of consciousness just given ? And Pres- 
 ident Porter says (Sec. 64) : " The presentative 
 faculty is subdivided into sense perception and 
 consciousness, or, as they are sometimes called, the 
 outer and the inner sense." This seems to me to 
 he a confounding of the two by these eminent 
 men, and I quote them only to show the need of 
 care at this point. Consciousness has no more to 
 do with that " knowledge of the internal world " 
 given, according to Hamilton, by self-conscious- 
 ness, and accordmg to President Porter, by con- 
 sciousness regarded as a part of the Presentative 
 Faculty, than it has with our knowledge of the 
 external world, since it accompanies both equally. 
 Consciousness as much accompanies my knowledge 
 of an external world as it does my knowledge of 
 what is passing within myself. Here is a separ- 
 ate department of knowledge. It is of that which 
 takes place within myself. Here is another de- 
 partment. It is of that which is without myself ; 
 and the knowledge of each is equally accompanied 
 by consciousness. Can, then, the knowledge of 
 either, or of one more than the other, be con- 
 sciousness ? I think not. Certainly not without a 
 jonfusion of terms. That consciousness is gener- 
 
 1 Lect. xxix. p. 401. 
 
106 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 ally regurJed as giving a knowledge of the in- 
 ternal world I do not deny. This has come to 
 pass because it is convenient, and because such 
 knowledge is always present as a condition of con- 
 sciousness. Nor will it be easy, or perhaps possible, 
 to change the usage ; but if we are to think or 
 write clearly we cannot give to consciousness ita 
 own department of knowledge and also make it 
 pervade all the other departments. 
 
 Is not consciousness then an inward witness 
 or light ? So some have said. So Cousin said , 
 and he said it because it was so pervasive in its 
 character. This, however, is figurative language, 
 and is so far from precision as to need no farther 
 notice here. 
 
 Once more, is not consciousness one of those 
 original and primitive ideas of which we have 
 spoken ? Should it not be placed as such on the 
 left hand side of our line ? This has been said ; 
 but since consciousness accompanies our knowledge 
 of those ideas in the same way as it accompanies 
 our other knowledge, if consciousness were one of 
 them we should need another consciousness back 
 of that, and so on forever. 
 
 What then is consciousness ? Is there any one 
 power of the mind or mode of its activity that pos- 
 sesses the three characteristics already mentioned 
 as belonging to consciousness. /We think there is 
 and would define consciousness to be the knowl- 
 edge by the mind of itself as the permanent and 
 
CONSCIOUSNESS. 107 
 
 indivisible subject of its own operations. This Lm- 
 plies a knowledge of the operations, but leaves 
 that knowledge to be given by its own specific 
 faculty while consciousness holds the whole in 
 inity by a constant reference of the different acta 
 ^d states of the mind to the indivisible self or 
 *.go. According to this the formula of consciou3- 
 ness will be, not " I know that I know," but/ 1 
 know tha,t it is / that know, and I know that it 
 is the same I that knows, that also feels and wills,] 
 This knowledge of the self as the subject and cen- 
 tre of mental operations will have no reference to 
 the validity or trustworthiness of those operations. 
 We have our faculties. We know by perception ; 
 we know by memory. We know immediately, we 
 know mediately ; but if our faculty of knowledge, 
 whatever it be, does not suffice to itself, it cannot 
 be supplemented by consciousness. That has an- 
 other field ; it belongs to another sphere. Its office 
 is to bind all the operations of the mind into unity. 
 It does for the mind just what the cellular system 
 does for the body. You will remember what I 
 said about that. As I stated, the cellular mem- 
 brane is found in connection with every part of 
 the body. It enfolds, for iustance, each fibre of the 
 muscles. It is never by itself. It always accom- 
 panies something else, is for the sake of something 
 else ; and it gives unity to the body. And con- 
 sciousness does the same thing for the mind. It 
 is, as it were, its cellular membrane, combining 
 
108 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 everything connected with it into unity ; never 
 found by itself, but always present in connection 
 with every other mental operation. Hence, as I 
 said, it is not a faculty. It is not under the con- 
 trol of the will. It is not anything that comes 
 to us in any sense or degree through the operation 
 of will. We have it from the beginning ; we 
 have it by necessity ; and one man has it as much 
 as another. Hence there cannot be different kinds 
 of consciousness. If you choose to say self-con- 
 sciousness, and give that a special field of knowl- 
 edge, very weU. You can then give attention to it 
 or not, as you please, but consciousness, as just de- 
 fined, is automatic and admits of no diversity. 
 
 What I have now called consciousness has always 
 been known as one of the elements of what has 
 been so called, but it needs to be separated ; and, 
 so far as I can judge, until that shall be done, and 
 the term shall come to designate this, and this 
 nlone, it will be impossible to speak or write on 
 this subject without confusion. Very possibly the 
 discrimination I have made is not the right one. 
 T could not accept what had been done, and have 
 made it rather than sit down in despair. We 
 must go on until we understand what this cardi- 
 nal, universal operation of the mind is. In order 
 to this we must separate it fi-om everything else, 
 and agree upon the elements to which we will give 
 the name. So only can we make progress, and 
 come out into a clear understanding of the ques- 
 tions which vre discuss on these abstract subiects. 
 
PASSAGE FROM KNOWLEDGE TO BEING. 109 
 
 If what has now been said of consciousness be 
 correct, it is plain that in adding it to our scheme, 
 as we now do, we must wiite it as we did the 
 cellular membrane, giving it the same relation to 
 the mental faculties and their operations that the 
 cellular membrane has to the bodily systems and 
 their functions. 
 
 I have now stated continuously what I beheve in 
 regard to three of the great questions which have 
 divided the philosophic world, and which still di- 
 vide it. The first relates to the origin of knowl- 
 edge ; the second to the mode of our communica- 
 tion with the external world ; and the third to 
 consciousness. The discussions on the subject of 
 consciousness are recent, and what I have said con- 
 cerning that involves what has been said by others ; 
 but those on the other two subjects are ancient, 
 and concerning them, especially the first, philoso- 
 phers have been divided from the beginning. And 
 that these discussions are not wholly speculative we 
 shall see if we notice how the views I have pre- 
 sented on the first two points will either set aside, 
 or solve the theories and questions, that have been 
 proposed at different times. 
 
 In the first place the view 7 have taken of the 
 origin of knowledge sets aside the question of 
 which Cousin makes so much, about what he calls 
 " the passage from knowledge to being," He 
 
110 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 seems to regard that as the great question of phi- 
 losophy. According to him we know without 
 knowing being, and it is a great thing to make a 
 safe passageway over from knowledge to being. 
 But if we accept what has been said we set aside 
 that question altogether because we do not know 
 at all except as we know being. In knowing at 
 all we know ourselves to be. In perception we 
 know matter to be, and we know the subject as we 
 know the attribute, one as much as the other. We 
 know them in one concrete act, and so there is no 
 such bridge needed as has been furnished us. 
 
 In the second place, our solution of the problem 
 of the origin of knowledge is that we have knowl- 
 edge of three kinds as is seen in the diagram, and 
 that the mind is itself a source of ideas and of 
 truths. On this point there have been two schools 
 from the time of Plato and Aristotle, Plato believ- 
 ing that ideas existed before the several classes of 
 objects, and that those objects became what they 
 were by partaking of those ideas ; and Aristotle, on 
 the other hand, believing that all the furniture of 
 mind came through the senses. These, at least, 
 are the views commonly imputed to these two phi- 
 losophers. Locke has been supposed by the conti- 
 nental philosophers to hold that all our knowledge 
 originates in sensation, and that the furniture of 
 the mind consists only of sensations and modified 
 sensations. To this English writers generally 
 have not agreed ; and certainly Locke uses language 
 
ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 by which either view may be sustained. Possibly 
 the question had not fully cleared itself up in his 
 own mind. Liebnitz, on the other hand, was dis- 
 tinctly on the other side. Accordingly, when the 
 formula was stated, supposed to be that of Locke, 
 that " there is nothing in the understanding that 
 was not previously in the sense," Liebnitz said. 
 " except the understanding itself." There was the 
 mind itself as a source of ideas in distinction from 
 those it got from sensation. So in our time, the 
 two schools continue ; and we have had Hamilton 
 on the one side and Mill on the other with their 
 respective followers. It is remarkable that there 
 should have been, and should continue to be, such 
 a diversity of view on a point like this. 
 
 The interest in this question is not merely specu- 
 lative. If it had been it would probably have 
 died out long ago. It is mainly derived from the 
 tendencies of the two schools. Connected with the 
 origin of knowledge in sensation there has been a 
 tendency to materialism, to sensualism, to a low 
 standard of morality, and to the denial of a here- 
 after. Connected with what has been called the 
 spiritual philosophy, or, sometimes, transcendent- 
 alism, there has been a tendency to idealism, to 
 mysticism, to excursions into cloud-land, to forms 
 of expression, oracular and obscure, and to an un- 
 due exaltation of reason. IMen have assumed as 
 the product of reason what was not ; they have 
 made out of ideas received in this way, or sup- 
 
112 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 posed to be thus received, a kind of inspiration, 
 and Lave become conceited and dogmatic. Ae 
 ever^'tliing known in this way is known infallibly, 
 they cease to be concerned about being consistent 
 with themselves. They say, " We know this ; we 
 see it to be so." Yes, but did you not see another 
 thing the other day inconsistent with that. " We 
 do not know whether we did or not. If we did, 
 no matter ; this is true." This is presumption. 
 These are the two tendencies ; but as we solve the 
 question, you see how, by the tests applied, the 
 mind is kept in a state of sobriety, and held down 
 to the truth. 
 
 Now comes the second question. How does the 
 mind communicate with the external world, and 
 what does it know about it ? And here it will be 
 Been that I stand with Hamilton as a " natural 
 realist," beheving in the immediate knowledge — 
 not as Hamilton says, consciousness — but in the 
 immediate knowledge of both a me and a not-rne 
 of an ego and a non-ego. Hamilton beheved in 
 an immediate and simultaneous apprehension of 
 two things — of himself and of the world. I 
 agree to that, but I do not agree at all to his view 
 about the senses, or about the relativity of knowl- 
 edge. What is this doctrine of the relativity of 
 knowledge? It is that what we know we know 
 as it is related to our senses, and our faculties, and 
 not as it is in ikself. That this is true of much ol 
 our knowledge no one will doubt. It is because 
 
MATERIALISM AND IDEALISM. 113 
 
 of tliis that " there is no disputing about tastes." 
 But, aflfirmed of knowledge universally, as he af- 
 firms it, it would land us in our not being sure 
 that we know anything at all. Do I then know 
 that the whole is equal to the sum of all its parts, 
 or that a body must be in space, as something th^t 
 is relative to my mode of apprehension ? or dc I 
 know it as something wbich is so in itself, ar 3 
 which must be known to be so by all rational be- 
 ings ? I have no hesitation in saying the lattei* ; 
 nor in saying, further, that, whatever may be po>^- 
 sible for others, it would not be possible for me to 
 hold to the doctrine of the relativity of knowledgn, 
 without passing over into skepticism. 
 
 And not only does our mode of statement set 
 aside the doctrine of the relativity of knowledge, 
 but also that of materialism on the one hand, and 
 of idealism on the other. Some have believed 
 that there is nothing but matter. These are the 
 materialists. Others, as Berkeley, have believed 
 that there is no such thing as matter. These are 
 the idealists. Seeking for a knowledge of matter 
 through some one of the senses by a movement 
 originating ^rom without, and not finding it, and 
 not having reached the distinction between the 
 two movements from without and from within, and 
 their results, they regard the whole process of 
 knowledge, through ^he senses, as illusory. The 
 notices of the senses they regard, not as a set of 
 signs to be interpreted with reference to something 
 8 
 
114 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 back of them, but as wholly an illusiou. These 
 two views, especially that of idealism, have been 
 extensively held. 
 
 But besides materialism and idealism, there are 
 other forms of belief that are at once set aside by 
 this doctrine of Natural Realism, or the immedi- 
 ate and simultaneous apprehension of both sub- 
 ject and object. Of these one is what is called 
 the theory of Identity. This affirms that mind 
 and matter, subject and object, are thesame thing. 
 Those holding this hold to a power of causation in 
 tnatter similar to that of mind, whereas matter, 
 whatever may be said of its dynamics, is not, in 
 any proper sense, causative at all. It has no power 
 of originating anything. It moves only as it is 
 moved upon. This distinction, and this only, ex- 
 plains, as I suppose, the doctrine of second causes. 
 A second cause is neither spontaneous, nor volun- 
 tary, but moves only as it is moved upon, whereas 
 a first cause is self -moved. This, as I have said 
 before, is a fundamental distinction between mind 
 and matter, and while those who would break it 
 down by a theory of identity may not be panthe- 
 ists, yet their doctrine tends, and woi^ld logically 
 lead to pantheism. 
 
 Then there is the doctrine of Nihilism, and I 
 mention it that you may see to what extremes wise 
 men — shall I say ? — no, I will not say that, but 
 men who call themselves philosophers — may run 
 when they abandon their primary convictions and 
 
THE IDEAL THEORY. 116 
 
 reason logically from assumed premises. Rejecting 
 Reason and its intuitions, and seeking in vain for 
 substance through sensation, the Nihilists believe 
 that there is neither mind nor matter. But this 
 is absurd, since a man who denies his own exist- 
 ence has no right to aflBrm or deny anything. 
 ^But the theory regarding perception, that has 
 created more discussion than any other, has re- 
 spected, not so much its result, as its mode. The 
 larger number of philosophers have believed in an 
 external and substantial world as given by percep- 
 tion, but have supposed that the thing perceived 
 was not the object ij^elf^bu^ -something interme- 
 diate. Than this theory nothing can be more 
 natural if we suppose perception to take place 
 through any one or all of the five senses. We do 
 see by means of an image, and hear by means of 
 vibrations, and smell by means of odoriferous par- 
 ticles. The theory had its name, " Ideal theor}^," 
 from the sense of sight, and drew its chief support 
 from that. Reid was first led to examine, and 
 then to attack it, as furnishing the chief groimd to 
 Berkeley of his denial of matter ; and then to 
 Hume of the denial of both matter and mind. 
 Hamilton followed, and his refutation of this 
 theory, in both its forms, is among the great ser- 
 vices he rendered to philosophy. 
 
 On this subject there is a remarkable form of 
 belief in our day — that of Mill and his followers. 
 It is remarkable as combining Sensationalism with 
 
116 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Idealism. Mill is a sensationalist. According to 
 him there is nothing in the mind that is not the 
 direct product of sensation and experience, and 
 yet he denies the existence of anything but 
 phenomena, and even of anything but subjec- 
 tive phenomena. As illustrating what this form 
 of belief is in itself, and in its results, perhaps I 
 may be permitted to quote from a work of Mr. 
 Taine^ just published, and which I had not seen 
 till I came to the city. Concerning matter or 
 body he says : " Certain possibilities, and certain 
 necessities of sensations — to these are reducible 
 the powers, consequently the properties, conse- 
 quently the very substance of bodies " (p. 280). 
 Here he speaks of bodies, but what is body? 
 " A power then is nothing intrinsic and personal 
 to the object to which we attribute it. Conse- 
 quently a collection of powers is nothing, conse- 
 quently a body, that is to say a collection of 
 powers, is nothing" (p. 279). But how do we 
 come to know this body which is thus nothing ? 
 '' No doubt," he says, "we know nothing of ani- 
 mate or inanimate beings except from the sensa- 
 tions they give us " (p. 296). And again: " A sen- 
 sation, and notably a tactual or visual sensation, 
 engenders by its presence alone an internal phantom 
 which appears an external object " (p. 264). But 
 how about the internal world ? " Our successive 
 events," he says, " are then successive components 
 
 1 On Intelligence. B7 Henri Taine. 
 
THE EGO. MILL AND TAINE. 117 
 
 of oufBelves. The ego is, in turn, each of these 
 events. At one moment, as was clearly seen by 
 Condillac, it is nothing more than the sensation of 
 taste ' at the second moment nothing more than 
 fullering ; at the third, nothing more than the 
 recollection of the concert " (p. 205). Again he 
 says : " The Ego is nothing more than the contin- 
 uous web " — though how he gets a weh I do not 
 see — but " the continuous web of its successive 
 events. If we consider it at a given moment, it 
 is nothing more than a portion severed from its 
 web, some salient sensation among others less sali- 
 ent, some preponderant image among others about 
 to fade away " (p. 207). Again he says : '' We 
 have already seen that what constitutes a distinct 
 being is a distinct series of facts and events " (p. 
 294). Now attend to what man is in full : " This 
 man is 1st, the permanent possibility of tactual, 
 visible, and other sensations which I experience in 
 his neighborhood ; and further, he is a distinct 
 series of sensations, images, and volitions conjoined 
 to the tendencies by which this series is accom- 
 plished " (p. 366). Now if you do not know 
 what man is it is not my fault. 
 
 Finally, to show the tendency of this doctrine 
 and the reach of this class of questions, he says : 
 '^ We are disposed to conceive of it " (the Ego) 
 " as a distinct thing, stable, and independent of its 
 modes of being, and even capable of subsisting 
 after the series from which it is derived has dis- 
 
118 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 appeared." It is not fair to charge a man with 
 holding what we may think the legitimate conse- 
 quences of his doctrine if he disavows those con- 
 Bequenijee. I know notliing of Mr. Taine, or of 
 others holding similar doctrines as regards their 
 belief in inimortahty and accountability, but it is 
 fair to state what we think does legitimately flow 
 from such doctrines, and what would be the result 
 of their general reception. And I have no doubt 
 that if men suppose they are nothing, and that 
 their minds are nothing but the successive states 
 of sensation that they are in, they will suppose 
 that when the organization ceases the mind ceases. 
 They will find involved in the doctrine a virtual 
 denial of any proper personality or accountability 
 either here or hereafter ; and, so far as mere spec- 
 ulative belief can prevail against the native in- 
 stincts and tendencies of the mind, the doctrine 
 will involve the destruction of the moral sense of 
 the community. 
 
 We have now finished one part of our work. 
 We have furnished the Intellect. We have seen 
 what is in it, and how it got there. We have 
 also shown how our mental operations are bound 
 into unity by consciousness, and have explained the 
 nature of that. We have attempted a separation 
 of that knowledge by the mind of its own opera- 
 tions, which is a separate field of knowledge and 
 
CONSCIOUSNESS. 119 
 
 known by a separate faculty from that knowledge^ 
 by the mind of itself which is not by a faculty, 
 but is native and necessary and common to all. 
 In common discourse both these are included as 
 given by consciousness, and without inconvenience, 
 but for the purposes of philosophy a separation ia 
 needed, both in the thing, and in the name. That 
 which gives the first has been called by Hamilton, 
 and others, seK-consciousness, but to avoid con- 
 fusion we have called it the inner sense. That 
 which gives the other I have ventured to call con- 
 sciousness because that, and that only justifies tho 
 name by accompanying all other mental opera- 
 tions. It is a knomng of the mind by itself as 
 the subject of its own operations at the same time 
 that it knows those operations. How far it may 
 be possible to change, or wise to attempt to 
 <.'hange the usage in respect to language I do not 
 know ; but the time has come when it is essential 
 to clear thinking that the things should be distin 
 guished. 
 
 I refer, in closing, to the very brief and impel - 
 feet account I have given of the theories respecting 
 the origin of knowledge, and the modes of percep- 
 tion. Those theories seemed to me to enter too 
 largely into the history of human thought to be 
 omitted entirely, and yet the hmits of the course 
 would not permit me to treat of them adequately. 
 I czm only hope that enough was said to show 
 liow tlie most abstruse speculations connect them- 
 
120 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Belves with questions that are \nt:il to society, and 
 also to show how beautiful, and simple, and safe, 
 nature and truth are, when compared with the 
 sj^eculations of man. True, the process of dis- 
 covery has not always been from apprehended 
 complexity to simplicity, but it was so in Astron- 
 omy ; so it has been hitherto in mental science, 
 and so, f believe, it will continue to be. . 
 
 J' 
 
LECTURE VI. 
 
 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. — CONTROL OiT 
 
 THE WHL OVER THE MENTAL CURRENT. 
 
 Having now answered the two questions, What 
 18 in the mind regarded as intellect ? and, How did 
 it get there ? we are prepared to pass to the third 
 question as originally stated. What operations 
 can we perform with the materials thus in the 
 mind ? That the materials should be in the mind 
 is clearly a condition for the performance of any 
 operation with those materials. 
 
 But we must first inquire in what sense any 
 thing is in the mind. It is not there as money 
 is in your pocket, that is, if you have any there. 
 That is something that you put there, and it 
 abides, and you take out the same piece you 
 put in. But is there anything in the mind? 
 You learned the multiplication table once. Is it 
 in your mind when you are not thinking about it ? 
 You know nothing about it. You can recreate 
 it; you can say it when called upon, but it is a 
 new thing. 
 
 But call it what you will,( there is a power in 
 the mind by which it reproduces states in which 
 it has once been ^ or, more accurately, by which 
 it returns to similar states while it knows itself 
 
122 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 to be the same mind. Having then been onoe in 
 a particular state of kno'v\'ing, or feeling, or will- 
 ing, the mind has the power of re-presenting, oi 
 re-producing those states. Hence we liave 
 
 THE REPEESENTATIVE FACULTY. 
 
 Hamilton interposes a Conservative faculty by 
 which that which is in the mind is preserved there, 
 but we know nothing of the operation of such a 
 faculty. He also speaks of a Reproductive, as 
 distinguished from a Representative faculty. But 
 that is not needed. What we know, and all that 
 we know, is, that when the mind has once been in 
 a state of knowing, or feeling, or willing, it may, 
 on certain conditions, be caused to return to a 
 similar state. The state and its product, if we 
 distinguish the two, may be so similar that they 
 shall seem identical, and the language used con- 
 cerning them shows that they are supposed to be 
 identical. What we need then is a faculty which 
 shall bring back those states of mind which we 
 have previously had, that knowledge which we 
 have once acquired; and to do that is the office 
 of the Representative Faculty. 
 
 Through this Representative Faculty, in con- 
 nection with other agencies, when once the mind 
 is set in motion, there is a constant succession of 
 thoughts, of feelings, of volitions, passing on in a 
 flow as constant as the flow of a river, and as in- 
 dependent of our wills. We can no more cease to 
 
DUALITY OF OUR NATURE. 123 
 
 kliink than we can stop the planets from revolving. 
 We may think about one thing and not about 
 another, but think we must. In this respect the 
 mind is like the body. You will remember that 
 I pointed out the involuntary powers of the body. 
 There are also involuntary powers of the mind 
 analogous to them. The involuntary powers oi 
 the body furnish the material for the upbuilding 
 of its volimtary systems and powers; they fur- 
 nish the material. And so the involuntary pow- 
 ers of the mind furnish the material on which its 
 voluntary powers act. They give the material, 
 and form the condition of all those operations 
 by which we recognize ourselves, and by which 
 we have character. 
 
 And here we find that double aspect, or more 
 properly, duality of our nature, by which a man 
 is called upon to govern himself. This, if suffi- 
 ciently understood, has not been sufficiently in- 
 sisted upon and illustrated. It is a wonderful 
 fact in our constitution, making a distinctive dif- 
 ference between man and the brutes. Possibly I 
 can illustrate it. 
 
 B 
 
 Let us suppose the space on the left-hand side 
 of the two upright lines to represent a vast un- 
 loiown, and the space on the right-hand side to 
 
124 AN OUTLINE STDDT OF MAN. 
 
 represent tlie region of personality. Let the hori- 
 Eontal line A, represent those involuntary move- 
 ments, the current I have spoken of, bringing with 
 it thought, feeling, impulse, desire. All these move 
 on. They come by no will of yours. A man pro- 
 vokes you, perhaps strikes you, how many im- 
 pulses, feelings, thoughts, passions, this calls up I 
 They come of themselves. You do not will them. 
 You, represented by the shorter upright line B., 
 stand above the stream at the point of its entrance 
 and you watch them as they come in. The in- 
 stant they come you see them, and one you ap- 
 prove and another you disapprove. Of the one 
 you say, I accept it ; and you cherish it. To the 
 other you say Down ! down ! You will have noth- 
 ing to do with it, and so you control yourself. 
 Now do you not see that the stream which thus 
 comes in and is moving on without any volition 
 of yours is yourself ; and that that which stands 
 above and watches it is you ? That is the differ- 
 ence between you and yourself ; at least when we 
 refer to the voluntary and involuntary movements 
 of the mind. This involuntary current it is that 
 is the source of dreams, of reveries, of fantasies, 
 of insanity. When a man becomes insane, cer- 
 tain ideas, springing up involuntarily, become con- 
 tinuous and persistent, and overmaster him. He 
 has no control over himself. The ideas become 
 realities to him and govern him instead of his gov- 
 erning them. Often the struggle is long betweer 
 
THE STRUGOLE FOR SELF-CONTROL. 125 
 
 a man and these illusions ; and doubtless many 
 have been saved from insanity by a resolute will ; 
 but the moment he gives way he passes into one 
 of the saddest and most humiliating conditions 
 that belongs to our humanity. This is a mysteri- 
 ous part of our nature. There are phenomena 
 connected with it that are not now, and probably 
 Qever will be fully understood. This it is that 
 brings in temptation. To this, in the form that is 
 strongest at the moment, some men give them- 
 selves up, while others struggle during their whole 
 lives against its suggestions and promptmgs. A 
 most blessed thuig it would be, would it not ? if 
 this part of our nature, which is indeed nature 
 and nothing else, were never to present to us any- 
 thing which we should need to reject ; if we could 
 always say to everj^thing thus presented, Yes, yes. 
 But it 13 not thus with any one of us. It was not 
 always thus with the Apostle Paul even. He 
 could say in view of that which thus presented 
 itself, as well as of the infirmity of purpose in 
 that to which it was presented, " Oh, wretched 
 man that I am." 
 
 Now the inquiries that will occupy us to-night 
 are mamly four. 
 
 First. What is it that determines the materials 
 and order of this current when that is presented 
 which has been before in the mind ? 
 
 Second. What forms do the materials thus 
 brought into the mind assume, either of themselves 
 or under the direction of the will ? 
 
126 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Third. What is there besides the laws of asso- 
 ciation and our own wills, that influences the whole 
 mental current ? 
 
 Fourth. AVliat power has the will over the whole 
 mental current — these materials, and this order ? 
 
 First, then, of Representation. Do the mate- 
 rials that have 6nce been in the mind come into it 
 again fortuitously, or by some law ? They often 
 seem to come fortuitously. Nothing can be more 
 capricious, or whimsical, or disconnected, than the 
 odd fancies of our waking hours, to say nothing of 
 our dreams. It is supposed, however, that under 
 this seeming caprice there is always some law at 
 work; and this leads us to consider the law, or 
 rather laws of what has been called the 
 
 ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 
 
 And by ideas as here used is meant, not merely 
 intellectual states, but also states of feeling and of 
 will. In connection, then, with what ideas or 
 principles are former mental states reproduced ? 
 
 First, if two things are presented at the same 
 time, and then, afterwards, one of those things pre- 
 Bents itself, we shall be led to think of the other 
 also. 
 
 Therefore we have 
 
 TEMB, 
 
 as one of what have been called the associating 
 principles. It matters not that the two ideas have 
 
CASUAL ASSOCUTION. 127 
 
 no other relation than that of time, they will in- 
 troduce each other. If I see a. flock of wild geese 
 go over and there comes a storm immediately 
 after, or if winter sets in, the next time I see the 
 geese I shall think of the storm, or of the setting 
 in of winter. It is in this way that what are 
 called casual associations arise and become estab- 
 lished in the minds of the community. It is in 
 this way that signs, in distinction from causes, come 
 to have the power over the minds of men that 
 they have, and that various superstitions and 
 quackeries arise. Two things are seen at the same 
 time or in immediate succession, and afterwards 
 come to be associated whether they have any con- 
 nection in nature or not. Friday, you know, ia 
 considered an unlucky day. I do not know how 
 it originated, but the association became estab- 
 lished, and now there are many cultivated persons 
 who will not, if they can avoid it, start on a jour- 
 ney on Friday. As communities become enlight- 
 ened such associations give place to the inductions 
 of science, but the number still remaining among 
 us, based on this relation of time, is very great. 
 
 But the relation of time is not the only one on 
 whioh casual associations are based. Tliere is also 
 that of place, and these two are generally com- 
 bined. It is impossible for us to visit the place 
 where an event of interest has occurred t<» us with- 
 out thinking of that event, and it is because we 
 thus associate events with places, that places have 
 
128 AN OUTUNE STUDY OF AlAN. 
 
 a historic interest. But for this, Plymouth Rock, 
 Rome, Jerusalem, would be but as other places. 
 But while both these principles are natural and 
 necessHfjy they furnish a soil into which supersti- 
 tion and folly so readily strike their roots that if 
 we wei^ to take from the history of the world 
 their results as based on these two relations it 
 would be quite another thing. We put down 
 then as a second associating principle, 
 
 PLACE. 
 
 Again if we see a man to-day, and to-morrow 
 Bee another who resembles him, we shall think of 
 the man whom he resembles. Hence we put down 
 
 RESEMBLANC3 
 
 as a third principle of association. This is wider 
 and more extensive than any other. 
 A fourth principle is that of 
 
 CONTRAST. 
 
 Heat reminds us of cold, poveiiy of riches, labor 
 of rest, time of eternity, hope of despair This is 
 the opposite of resemblance. 
 
 A fifth associating principle is that of 
 
 CAUSE AND EFFECT. 
 
 These are correlative terms, and so imply each 
 other. The cause reminds us of the effect, the 
 effect of the cause. 
 
PBINCIPLES OF ASSOCUTION. 129 
 
 In the same way 
 
 MEANS AND END 
 
 M:e correlative terms. I place them here beoa^ise 
 they are generally placed among the associating 
 principles, but it is doubtful whether they are not 
 fto subordinated to Cause and Effect that they 
 ought to be identified with them. 
 
 These six principles of association, have been 
 divided, and I think properly, into three classes : 
 Time and Place, under which the mind works 
 immediately and without reflection; Cause and 
 Effect, under which everything is done by reflec- 
 tion ; and Resemblance and Contrast which are 
 intermediate. 
 
 These are the chief principles of association, and 
 they seem to me to be original and irreducible ; 
 or at least that no reduction of them to any law 
 more general can be made that will be of practical 
 value. They will remain the separate working 
 principles of the mind, and must be studied as 
 Buch. Attempts at reduction have been made, and 
 the result as given by Hamilton is what he calls 
 the law of Redintegration ; this is, that " thoughts 
 oend to suggest each other that have previously 
 been parts of one whole." That is the law which 
 was given, as is said by Hamilton, by St. Augus- 
 tine, and which he adopts. That it is a law I 
 agree, but I do not think it the law, because I do 
 not see that the law of resemblance can be brought 
 
130 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 onder it. That it cannot is shown by President 
 Porter, who proposes as the hiw, " That the mind 
 tends to act again more readily in a manner or 
 form which is similar to any in which it had acted 
 before, in any defined exertion of its energy.'* But 
 taking this statement as it stands, I see in it no 
 more reason why, if I pass the place where I met 
 a friend yesterday I should think of him then and 
 there than at any other time or place. If the ten- 
 dency be there independent of circumstances, it 
 would be as likely to show itself at one time as 
 at another ; but if it depends upon circumstances, 
 we are thro\vn back at once upon the original law, 
 having simply that and whatever tendency may 
 be implied in our having a representative faculty 
 at all. The faculty itself implies the tendency 
 under certain conditions. That being given, what 
 we need is to know the conditions. It is not, how- 
 ever, important whether we reduce these laws to 
 one or not. The great, primitive, working ideas, 
 are, as I have said, those which I have put down, 
 and you will observe that most of them are taken 
 from those ideas which were put down in the dia- 
 gram as belonging to all men. \a9JiS^ '^ 
 
 I have now mentioned the primary laws of as- 
 sociation. There are also secondary laws which 
 liave much to do with the order of succession. 
 These were especially mentioned by Bro\vn, and 
 you will find them dwelt upon at length in hie 
 lectures. They are chiefly these : 1st. Events 
 that are recent, and objects recently seen are more 
 
SECONDARY LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 131 
 
 apt to recur to the mind. 2d. The greater the 
 vivacity or emotion with which anything is receired 
 into th« mind, the more likely it is to reappear. 
 3d. The longer it is dwelt upon, other things be- 
 ing equal. 4th. The more frequently it is brought 
 before the mind. Hence the benefit of leviews, 
 6th. The state of our bodily powers will have an 
 influence. 6th. Which will include some of the 
 others, whatever will lead to more fixed and pro- 
 tracted attention. These secondary laws will vary 
 with every individual; and hence we see from 
 these, as well as from the varying combinations of 
 the primary laws, how it happens that such a di- 
 versity of thoughts and courses of thought shall 
 be struck out in conversation and in writing by 
 different men. 
 
 But if thoughts come into the mind through 
 some associating principle can that always be 
 traced? Can you always tell how you come to 
 think of a thing ? Something comes into your 
 mind. You say, " How did I come to think of 
 that?" And ycu cannot tell. Concerning this 
 philosophers havs had two theories. One is that 
 Bomething comes into the mind and introduces 
 something else, but disappears so instantaneously 
 that all trace of it is lost. The other is that there 
 is going on in the mind an operation which ia 
 below consciousness, but which still affects the in- 
 voluntary current. This is Hamilton's view. 1 
 3an only say that if it be correct it is an aban- 
 
132 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 donment of the principle that the current is reg 
 olated by the laws of association, or by any laws 
 that we can understand or control. I holi to the 
 first supposition. 
 
 Of the representative faculty thus marshaling 
 its hosts under the laws of association, the prod- 
 ucts appear in three forms ; and to these as was 
 proposed, we now pass. 
 
 The first and lowest of these is what is called 
 Fantasy. Of this I have already spoken. Tliere ia 
 in it simply a succession of images that have been 
 before in the mind, with no intervention of will, 
 or recognition of time or place. It takes place, 
 as I have said, in reverie, in dreams, and in in- 
 sanity. You have seen Niagara. It rises before 
 you as a picture. You view it simply as such, 
 and it passes and gives place to another. This ia 
 one form. 
 
 A second form is Memory. In this there is re- 
 production with recognition, and with the element 
 of past time. These two distinguish memory from 
 fantasy on the one hand, and imagination on the 
 other. Memory is spontaneous, or voluntary. Spon- 
 taneous memory is the immediate suggestion, with- 
 out the intervention of will, of our past knowledge 
 when the occasion demands it. It may come by 
 one principle of association or by another, but it 
 comes unsought. Sometimes it seems as if the 
 mind has the power to grasp what it needs by 
 the mere suggestion of want. But however this 
 
VOLUNTARY MEMORY 188 
 
 may be, in proportion as that which haa before 
 been in the mind is presented thus spontaneously, 
 we are said to have a ready memory. The spon- 
 taneous and ready memory go together. 
 
 Then there is voluntary memory, or as it is also 
 called. Recollection. We say, " I do not recollect, 
 that is re-collect, or gather again. And that is 
 done through the will. This power of re-collec- 
 tion differs according to the associating principles 
 by which the mind has been accustomed to collect 
 and arrange its knowledge. Are time and place 
 the associating principles ? They will determine 
 the order in which the past shall come up ; and, 
 if there be a want of cultivation and judgment, 
 the story that is told will have in it all the cir- 
 cumstances of time and place whether they are 
 related to its point or not. It is by loosely con- 
 necting in this way, and uttering whatever the 
 lighter associating principles may happen to bring 
 up, that story-tellers become tedious, and talkers 
 become endless. It is in this way also that men 
 with this form of memory strongly developed have 
 created the impression that great memory and 
 sound judgment do not go together ; they do go 
 together, but men of sound judgment never dis- 
 play their memory in a way to show that they lack 
 judgment. What is to be observed here, however, 
 is, that if events, or knowledge of any kind, asso- 
 ciated by time and place, do not come at once and 
 f themselves, they can seldom be re-collected 
 
184 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MA1«. 
 
 The w-ill bus little power over them ; whereas, ii 
 the knowledge has been associated and arranged 
 under the principles of Resemblance, and Cause 
 and Effect, and Means and End, it can be re-col- 
 lected more certainly. Time may be needed, but 
 if it has once been thoroughly known and well 
 arranged, it vnU come. Hence persons arranging 
 their knowledge thus are said to have a retentive, 
 but not a ready memory. 
 
 These are the kinds of memory so far as they 
 depend upon the principles of association. Facts 
 seem also to show that there are varieties of it, aa 
 a memory for names, that depend on special or- 
 ganization. But of that I cannot speak. 
 
 Now a word on the cultivation of the memory. 
 This, with given power, will depend on three 
 things. 1st. Attention — habits of fixed atten- 
 tion. Nothing can be remembered that is not at- 
 tended to, and generally the memory will be in 
 proportion, not to the attention we try to give t^ a 
 subject in which we feel no interest, for that is 
 often what is called study, but to the attention 
 actually given from a genuine interest in the sub- 
 ject. Of this I have spoken before. 2d. A 
 second condition for cultivating the memory is 
 Order. This imposes upon every student who 
 would remember well, the necessity not only of 
 external order and arrangement, but of studying 
 his subject till he sees its relations as whole and 
 parts, and brings it into a system. It is generally 
 
CULTIVATION OF THE MEMORY. 135 
 
 from not carrying studies out till this is done, and 
 this is something which each must do for himself, 
 that they are not remembered. 3d. A third con- 
 dition is repetition. Of the effect of this in ena- 
 bling us so to hold fast what we have acquired that 
 we can command it at our will there can be no doubt, 
 But here a question arises. Will the memory 
 ever lose anything ? It is not whether some things 
 may pass beyond the power of recall by the will, 
 but whether anything can so pass away that no 
 circumstance or event can recall it. It would 
 be a marvelous thing if the throng and series of 
 which I have spoken were to be retained — so mar- 
 velous that formerly I did not credit it at all ; but 
 there are well attested phenomena which render it 
 highly probable. I have a written account by a 
 young man who was suddenly brought into danger 
 of immediate death, and whose whole life passed 
 before him in the course of not more than two or 
 three seconds in such a way as to convince him, 
 who had been skeptical before, that there were in 
 him the preparation for, and elements of, a day of 
 judgment, and to lead him to become a religious 
 man. Similar phenomena are related by those 
 who have passed a certain stage in drowning and 
 been recovered. Perhaps a distinction may be 
 drawn here. A portion of what has been in the 
 mind pertains to character, and a portion does not. 
 All that does I believe will be retained, and perhaps 
 what does not. I saw in yesterday's paper that a 
 
186 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 machine had been invented by which, when one 
 Nvrites, there is made an invisible copy of every dot 
 and mark so that it can be read by the microscope. 
 We know too that there may be writing with invis- 
 ible ink which only the fire will bring out, and I 
 tliink there can hardly be a doubt, wonderful and 
 fearful as it is, that all that pertains to cliaracter, at 
 least, is so written that it can be made to reappear. 
 The materials that have ouce been in the mind 
 reappear simply as pictures in Fantasy ; in Mem- 
 ory we recognize them and place them in the past ; 
 but we are also capable of forming them into new 
 combinations, and our power of doing this is called 
 
 THE IMAGINATION. 
 
 This is spoken of as Reproductive and Creative. 
 But by Reproduction here nothing more can be 
 meant than Fantasy, that is, the exact re-presen- 
 tation of the pictures, or images, that have been 
 before in the mind. As to creation, it seems to be 
 agreed that the Imagination can, in strictness, cre- 
 ate nothing. Its office is to rearrange and recom- 
 bine materials given ; but its work will be wholly 
 different as it deals with the parts, or only the ele^ 
 ments of the materials given. It is one thing for 
 the poet to take parts of the different landscapes 
 he has seen and combine them into a new one, 
 more beautiful, it may be, than any of them ; it is 
 quite another for him to go back to the simple ele- 
 ments of form and color, and without reference tc 
 
THE IMAGINATION. 137 
 
 the wholes or parts of landscapes seen, to create 
 one. To do this is the higher power. The first ia 
 patch-work. This alone can be called creation. 
 The same distinction holds with the dramatist and 
 novelist. Their characters may be, and generally 
 are, exaggerated or in some way modified speci- 
 mens of persons they have seen ; or they may be 
 combinations by the mind from the original ele- 
 ments of our nature, perhaps true to that nature, 
 perhaps not. So too in invention. The mind may 
 avail itself of approximate combinations, and to 
 this there is no objection ; or, as in the case of 
 Whitney's cotton gin, the end being given, it may 
 frame an original and wholly new combination for 
 its attainment. In these two ways imagination 
 works, all material being plastic under its eye, if 
 not under the power of which it can avail itself ; 
 and it is easy to see that its importance to human 
 progress can hardly be over-estimated. 
 
 And not only with general progress is the im- 
 agination intimately connected, but also with in- 
 dividual happiness. I have known persons with 
 imaginations strong and active, that seemed to 
 minister chiefly to a suspicious tendency. Out of 
 some look or casual expression of a friend, hav- 
 ing no reference to them, they would frame theo- 
 ries that would make them wretched, and throw 
 them off into lines of conduct indicating aliena- 
 tion, and for which nobody could account. Noth- 
 ing can be more unhappy. Anything but a suBpi- 
 
138 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 cious temper combined with an active imagination^ 
 for the comfort of the person himself, or of those 
 connected with him. On the other hand, the imag- 
 ination may minister not only to the embellishment 
 of life, but to its cheerfulness and hope. 
 
 But perhaps the greatest power of imagination 
 over life comes from the creation by it of what are 
 called ideals, not of art, but of character and con- 
 duct. Idealsare representations of that which is 
 perfect, or which we esteem so. They are a set- 
 ting before ourselves of lines of conduct such as be- 
 long to the higher and better parts of our nature. 
 This all can do, and he who does not do it, and 
 hold himself to them, is but drift-wood driven 
 hither and thither by the circumstances in which 
 he may be placed. The man who does it is a 
 vessel that is bearing on to its port. He has an 
 ideal, an end, a purpose. He is aiming at excel- 
 lence. For a single person thus to form the ideal 
 of a perfect life and to shape his course steadily 
 with reference to it is a great thing. It is a 
 greater thing, both for themselves and for society ; 
 it is what is now needed in opposition to the loose 
 theories that are coming in, for two young persons 
 who are united in marriage to form a perfect ideal 
 of a double life, and so to hold themselves steady 
 against the temptations of selfishness and of passion 
 as to reach its complete reahzation. 
 
 We have now seen what the laws of association 
 are, when what has once been in the mind is pre 
 
S£NSE PERCEPTION. 139 
 
 Bented again; and also what forms the materials 
 assume, either of themselves, or under the direction 
 of the will. 
 
 We next inquire, as was proposed, what there is 
 besides the laws of association and our own wills, 
 that influences the mental current. 
 
 And here it is to be said, that in addition to the 
 laws of association, there is the constant operation 
 of the presentative faculty in the form of sense 
 perception presenting something new. This was 
 intended to have, and must have with all, a great 
 influence on the mental current. The succession 
 of day and night, the order of the seasons, heat 
 and cold, cloud and sunshine, new faces, new fash- 
 ions, new scenes, affect all, but some much more 
 than others. With some, the material and order 
 of the current is determined chiefly from without. 
 Unless excited by that which addresses the senses 
 they are vacant and listless, while with others, the 
 current is mainly determined from within. And 
 then, if we add to the sights and sounds from na- 
 ture, its tastes, and odors, and sensitive pleasures, 
 and pains, what comes from conversation and from 
 books, we shall see how greatly the mental current 
 ts modified from without. It is to be added, too, 
 that as those around us can make suggestions for 
 good or evil through the senses which we know to 
 be from them, so I see nothing impossible or un- 
 philosophical in supposing that there may be access 
 to the mind by invisible beings who may originate 
 
140 AN OUTLLNE STUTY OF MAN. 
 
 promptings and suggestions which we may not be 
 able to distinguish from the products of our own 
 mind. Who can tell ? Many promptings and sug- 
 gestions come to us, both waking and sleeping, in 
 a way to indicate such an agency ; but the fact of 
 such agency philosophy can neither affirm nor deny. 
 
 It only remains to inquire what power the will 
 has over the whole mental current, its material, 
 and its order. 
 
 And first, the will has no direct power. It seems 
 self-evident that we cannot bring a thought, and 
 much more a feeling, into the mind, by willing to 
 bring it there, because it is impossible to exert 
 the will upon what is not in the mind already. 
 Thought and feeling are the condition of will. 
 But if we have no direct power, what indirect 
 power have we ? , First, we can arrest any partic- 
 ular thing that appears in the current, and hold it, 
 and dwell upon it, and thus change the whole cur- 
 rent. And not only can^e so arrest a particular 
 thought as to change the current, but we can hold 
 jit with a firm grasp until we have examined it in 
 all its parts if it be complex, and in all its relations 
 to other thoughts and things. In the power to do 
 this, men differ greatly ; and he who can do it is 
 capable of producing great mental results. It was 
 in this power alone that Sir Isaac Newtcn said his 
 genius consisted ; and in studies iike his we may 
 be sure that without this no genius could have ac 
 complished anything. It is in this indeed, that aL 
 
WILL AND THE MENTAL CUBBENT 141 
 
 mental labor consists. K we would understanc? 
 anything, all we can do is to hold the subject be- 
 fore the mind till we see it as it is. If we would 
 originate or invent anything, all we can do is to hold 
 steadily in the mind what we do know on the sub- 
 ject, in the hope that laws of association, not directly 
 subject to the will, may present some new phase, or 
 relation, or combination that will either be what 
 we seek, or give us a clew to it. And to do this is 
 mental labor ; it is hard work ; it is among the 
 things men are most reluctant to do. Whoever can 
 do this when he pleases, and especially if he has 
 come to do it with pleasure, is said to have a well 
 disciplined mind ; and, as mental labor consists in 
 this, so does mental dicipline consist in the capacity 
 to do this at will. 
 
 r^f^ut ag^in the will has a wide control over those 
 Venues by which the mental current is affected 
 from without. /What books we shall read is 
 wholly within our own power ; jwhat companions 
 we shall have, j and what conversation we shall 
 hear, is measurably so ; instead of seeking, as 
 many do, for scenes and objects and pictures 
 which tend to defile the imagination and inflame 
 the passions, we can avoid them. In a great de- 
 gree the senses may be guarded, and, instead of 
 becoming inlets and purveyors of vice, they may 
 become ministers to purity, and to our sense of 
 beauty in nature and in art. The senses and 
 the imagination unguarded are the highway of 
 temptation. 
 
142 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MA5. 
 
 ^3pBut our deepest and Avidest control over the 
 3iental ciin*ent comes from the power we have of 
 controlling tlie habits of association. We may 
 dwell habitually on the dark side of things, and 
 there are those who do that ; we may dwell habit- 
 ually on the bright side of things, and there are 
 those who do that. Day by day there come up from 
 the mysterious fountain opened within us thoughts, 
 feelings, suggestions, impulses. We can repress 
 one and cherish another. If not by a strong hand, 
 then Httle by little, a little to-day and a little to- 
 morrow, we can cherish certain lines of thought 
 and of feeling till the whole current shall be 
 changed. What is really done in such cases is 
 the adoption by the will of some object of pursuit, 
 some ruling passion, some supreme end, which 
 shall become as the centre to a whirlpool in the 
 current, and draw all thmgs to itself. When the 
 storm comes the philosopher thinks of his rain- 
 gauge or his barometer, the merchant of his ships, 
 and the farmer of his crops. It is a special point 
 with dramatic writers and novelists to make their 
 characters speak and act in accordance with such 
 habits of association as their occupation or train- 
 ing would naturally originate, and it is a special 
 source of pleasure to the reader when they do 
 that. It is in this way that men become men of 
 one idea. Let the ruling passion become strong, 
 and, according to the idea they adopt, they will 
 become successful and applauded, as falling in 
 with the general sentiment ; or notorious, as out 
 
REFLEX POWER, 148 
 
 raging the moral sense of the community ; or ri- 
 diculous, as riding a hobby ; or heroic, as breast- 
 ing the current, and sacrificing everything foi 
 principle. 
 
 There is one thing more. It is what I may call 
 the reflfix-power. This is not understood, but ie 
 still a fact. Suppose, for instance, you wish to 
 remember a name. You know it in a sense per 
 fectly well, but it does not come to you. You 
 make efforts of all sorts, and for a long time, and 
 give it up ; but some half hour afterwards, when 
 you are thinking of something else, the name 
 comes of itself in a moment. But for your effort, 
 your concentrated attention, it would not have 
 come ; but by what hidden spring, or circle of 
 influences, it is there, I do not understand : The 
 physicists call it unconscious cerebration. It is 
 in this way that many inventions are made, and 
 that original thoughts come. Men labor and 
 seem to labor in vain, but they are all the while 
 becoming more and more acquainted with the sub- 
 tler and more remote relations of the subjects, 
 ftnd at length the thing reveals itself as in a mo- 
 nent — perhaps a bright moment that rewards 
 the labors of years. 
 
 On the whole, then, while there is doubtless a 
 difference both in force and material in the invol- 
 untary current in different minds, and while 
 external surroundings and influences will assert 
 themselves in a measure, it yet appears that every 
 man, not insane, has sufficient means of self-con* 
 
144 
 
 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 trol. Let parents control cliildren at the right 
 point ; let individuals begin at the right point 
 with themselves, and avail themselves of the help 
 which God offers, and they can control themselves 
 with reference to all the ends for which He made 
 them. 
 
 In the last Lecture we added nothing to our dia- 
 gram, and found nothing to add except conscious- 
 ness. In this we have found more, and with the 
 additions now made the diagram will stand thus : 
 
 C Ideals. 
 Imagination. J Poetkt, 
 
 (^ Art, 
 Mkmobt, — Spontaneous, Voluntary, — The Past. 
 
 Air Castles. 
 
 CD 
 
 CD 
 
 CD 
 
 
 H 
 
 ID 
 
 ^ 
 
 D 
 
 Fantast. 
 
 Secondart Principlbs: — 
 
 Pbimart Principles 
 
 of 
 
 Association. 
 
 '^ Dreabib, 
 
 y6^ ^^ " 
 
 Means. 
 Cause, 
 
 Resemblance. 
 Place, 
 Time, 
 The REPKESENrATivE Faculty — Products. 
 
 Resemblance. 
 
 Number, 
 
 Identity, 
 
 Time, 
 
 Space, 
 
 Being, 
 
 The Reason or Regula- 
 tive Faculty. 
 
 The Inner 
 
 Sense. 
 
 The Outer 
 Sense. 
 
 Willing. 
 Feeling, 
 Thought, 
 
 Objects. 
 
 PEBCEFTSy 
 
 
 The Prbsbntativx Fao- 
 
 ultt. 
 
 \ 
 
 MlHB = 
 
 INTELLECT. 
 Will. 
 
 Sensibiijtt, 
 Intkllkot, 
 
LECTURE Vn. 
 
 rHE ELABORATIVE FACULTY AND ITS PBOCESSBS. 
 — CONCEPTS AND THEIR PROPERTIES. 
 
 We have seen that the mind, once awakened 
 and furnished, moves on with an involuntary 
 power. This movement the will cannot arrest in 
 our waking hours, and we have no reason to sup- 
 pose that it is ever arrested in sleep. With such 
 a power only, a being in the form of man would 
 be a thing — a necessitated, sensitive, spontaneously 
 active thing. In this we have that in us which 
 is properly nature, and we have seen the relation 
 to this of that voluntary personal power that 
 stands above it, that comprehends and controls it, 
 and which is what we mean when we say " I." 
 Through the agency of these two powers acting 
 in accordance with the laws of association we have 
 the Representative Faculty, giving us mere pic- 
 tures, as in Fantasy, or recognized products, as 
 in Memory, or modified products, as in Imagi- 
 nation. These, with the inflow of new material 
 through the senses, all constantly modified by the 
 rational intuitions, and brought into unity by 
 consciousness, make up the mental current. Over 
 this, as we have seen, we have means of efficient 
 10 
 
14G AN OUTLINE STUDY OF BIAN. 
 
 control, by attending to bome particular thing ; by ] 
 guarding the avenues of temptation, by a control | 
 of the habits of association, and by reflex power. 
 
 But besides the power of thus representing 
 what it has received, the mind has the power ol 
 performing with the n.\aterials thus received other 
 operations of an entirely different character. It 
 can Compare, Abstract, Generahze, Judge, Reason, 
 and Systematize, and in doing these it is said to 
 bring into exercise what is called the 
 
 ELABORATIVE FACULTY. 
 
 It is by this faculty that those operations which 
 are now called thought are performed. Formerly 
 all the operations of the intellect were called 
 thought, but more recently the term thought has 
 been limited to the processes just mentioned. 
 
 The faculty is called Elaborative, and it will be 
 observed that its processes hold the same relation to 
 the materials brought into the mind that the pro- 
 cesses of building and repairing hold to the. mate- 
 rials which are brought into the body. The build- 
 ing and repairing systems take hold of that which 
 is brought into the system and elaborate it ; they 
 transform it, and make of it another thing. The 
 elaborative system does the same thing in the 
 mind. It takes the material given by the presen- 
 tative faculty and performs the operations I have 
 mentioned, and those are the operations we are 
 how to consider. These operations have, as I 
 howcd that the various functions of the bodj 
 
THE ELABORATIVE FACULTY. 147 
 
 have, a regular gradation. In order to abatrapt, it 
 is necessary to compare ; in order to generalize, it 
 is necessary to compare an^d abstract ; in order to 
 judge, in the ordinary sense of that word, it ia 
 necessary to compare, abstract, and generalize ; 
 in order to reason, it is necessary to compare, ab- 
 Btract, generalize, and judge ; and in order to sys- 
 tematize, it is necessary to compare, abstract, gen- 
 eralize, judge, and reason. There is here, pre- 
 cisely as in the body, a regular gradation and 
 order of functions as conditioning and conditioned. 
 The processes here spoken of as belonging to 
 the Elaborative Faculty are the same as those as- 
 signed to the Understanding by those who divide 
 the Intellect into the Understanding and the Rea- 
 son. As elaborating materials already given, and 
 as subject to the will, these processes are in entire 
 contrast to those assigned to the Reason. These 
 we now proceed to consider separately. And first 
 of 
 
 COMPARISON. 
 
 This some would not place first, but I do it be- 
 cause there is an elementary comparison and con- 
 trast of ourselves with other things in our fij-st acta 
 of thought, and that is involved in all our thinking. 
 This is little noticed, but with what is commonly 
 called comparison we are all familiar. Here are 
 two men presented by the senses. One is taU, well 
 proportioned, with a light complexion and sandy 
 hair ; the other is short, with rickety shoulders, a 
 dark complexion and dark hair. In these and 
 
148 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Other respects they differ, but there are others in 
 which they agree. They have common senses • 
 each has two hands and two feet ; each has a chin • 
 they both use language to express thought, and 
 both have a moral nature. In comparing them or 
 any two objects, we observe both the points of 
 resemblance and those of difference, and, as we 
 notice one or the other, we form habits of mind 
 practically different. 
 
 There are men, who, in looking at different 
 objects, habitually and chiefly observe the points 
 of resemblance. These tend to classify and ar- 
 range all things, and bring them into imity. 
 They are constructive and run into science, for 
 there is no science except as there is resemblance, 
 and as there are classification and arrangement 
 based on that. Other men observe differences, 
 and so become practical rather than scientific men. 
 In dealing with different substances or different 
 men we need to know, not so much what they 
 have in common, as their specific characteristics 
 and differences. Take the physician. There are 
 physicians who are scientific ; they know the gen- 
 eral facts and laws of their profession, and can 
 give a good lecture on any point pertaining to it. 
 But take them to the bedside, and they fail from 
 not discriminating differences. This is typhus 
 fever, and that is typhus fever. The resemblances 
 they see, but the difference between typhus fevei 
 and typhus fever they do not see, and so, in treat, 
 ing each case alike, they kill their patients scien' 
 
ABSTRACTION. — GENERALIZATION. 149 
 
 dfically, or at least fail to cure them. These are 
 the men of routine. There are others, who, while 
 using the common name, observe every difference 
 of age, of temperament, of habit, and who axe 
 thus able to adapt their treatment to each par- 
 ticular case. And so it is throughout. Scientific 
 classification depends on the observation of resem- 
 blances, and practical skill on the observation of 
 differences. So much for comparison — the obser- 
 vation of resemblances and differences. We next 
 pass to 
 
 ABSTRACTION. 
 
 By this we mean simply the consideration of one 
 of the qualities of an object without reference to 
 the rest ; as, for instance, the redness of this desk. 
 You can consider that with no reference to the 
 other qualities of the desk, and when you do that 
 you abstract. This supposes a difference between 
 substances and attributes. In abstraction we con- 
 sider attributes by themselves. To do this is nec- 
 essary in order to the next process mentioned, 
 which is 
 
 GENERALIZATION. 
 
 We can abstract without generalizing, but we 
 cannot generalize without abstracting. Between 
 the two men already referred to, there are such 
 points of resemblance that many assertions may be 
 made that will be true of both of them ; and that 
 we may make such assertions conveniently, we need 
 a common name. Generalization is the giving of 
 
150 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 a common name to individuals and objects that re- 
 semble each other, on the ground cf that resem- 
 blance. This impUes that we abstract the points 
 of resemblance, and consider them, without refer- 
 ence to the points of difference. To do this is 
 natural, and is necessary to make language a con- 
 venient instrument for communicating thought. 
 If we may call that a contrivance which is instinc- 
 tive, we may say that there is no labor-saving con- 
 trivance hke it. The single assertion, " Man is 
 mortal," is equivalent to as many separate asser- 
 tions as there are men on the earth. And so of 
 other things. On the ground of their resemblance 
 we are able to affirm of them all by a single asser- 
 tion what is true of each. And this gives us in- 
 directly a good rule for generahzation. It is that 
 we may apply a common name only on the ground 
 of such resemblance that what we affirm of all 
 shall be true of each. That this rule should al- 
 ways be observed is not possible, but the delusions 
 and prejudices into which men fall from not ob- 
 serving it are endless. When it cannot be observed, 
 and a common name is given on such a ground, for 
 instance as nationality, we are to be careful to affirm 
 of individuals only what is necessarily impHed in 
 the name, and not what we may have accidentally 
 associated with it. 
 
 We now see how we get the general term, and 
 what the use of it is. We next inquire what that 
 is in the mind that corresponds to such a term 
 
MEAiO^'G OF TBE TERM, "MAN." 151 
 
 When I speak of an individual man, I knovf 
 what is in my mind. I know there is an actually 
 existing being who corresponds to the name he may 
 happen to have ; but when I take the term " man," 
 what is it in my mind that corresponds to that ? 
 Is there anything out of my mind, and existing in 
 nature, that corresponds to it ? No. What does 
 the term, " man," mean then ? The question here 
 involved has long divided philosophers, and there 
 have been three theories about it. The first is 
 that of 
 
 REALISM. 
 
 According to this, when a general term is made 
 use of, at least in some cases, there is something 
 out of the mind that corresponds to it, a real thing. 
 The term man, for instance, means not only what 
 all men have in common, but something which ex- 
 ists apart from any individual man, and by partak- 
 ing of which each individual becomes a man. 
 
 The second theory is that of 
 
 NOMLNAUSM. 
 
 According to this, there is not only nothing in 
 nature that corresponds to the word "man," but 
 there is nothing in the mind except the word, the 
 name. 
 
 The third theory is that of 
 
 CONCEPTUAUS M. 
 
 There are those who say that in apprehending 
 
152 AN OUTLINE STUDT OF MAN. 
 
 those points of resemblance on which the word is 
 based, there is a mental product distinct from the 
 word, which may be called a conception, or con- 
 cept. This I suppose to be correct. But whether 
 it be so or not, a concept is that which corresponds 
 to a general term, and you see how it is reached. 
 
 Of concepts, as thus formed, the properties and 
 OSes are so many and so important, that they need 
 to be well understood. And first, they have what 
 are called comprehension and extension. What 
 these are will be best explained by a series. 
 
 Bewo. 
 
 Obgaxized Bxino. 
 
 Animau 
 
 Vbrtebratb. 
 
 Maximal. 
 
 Man. 
 
 Cato. 
 
 In this series, there are two wholes which are 
 inversely as each other. Taking the individual, 
 Cato, you will see that he has in him a greater 
 number of qualities than man has. He has all 
 the qualities needed to make him a man, and in 
 addition, those specific qualities which make him 
 Cato. Man, again, has more qualities than Mam- 
 mal. He has all that belongs to Mammal, with 
 those needed to make him man. And so on, all 
 the way up, till we reach Being, which is said to 
 be the most general of all, but has no attribute ex- 
 cept itself. Here then we have, in an individual 
 man, a greater number of qualities, and so greater 
 
CO.MPRKHENSION AND EXTENSION. 
 
 153 
 
 comprehension, than in any member of the seriea 
 above him ; and the qualities go on diminishing 
 till we reach the top. In the individual, at the 
 bottom, the number is the greatest possible ; in 
 Being, at the top, the number is the smallest pos* 
 pible. We thus see what a whole of comprehen 
 eion is, and how one is greater than another. 
 
 Beginning now at the top, we shall see that Be- 
 mg can be affirmed of more objects than organ- 
 ized being ; that organized being includes under 
 it more objects than Animal ; Animal more than 
 Vertebrate, and so on till we come to Cato, where 
 we have the least number possible. This gives 
 us extension, and it will be seen at once that the 
 whole of extension can become less, only as the 
 whole of comprehension becomes greater, 
 
 In our first Lecture we had a pyramid in which 
 the steps of the creation were represented, the 
 Dumbers diminishing as qualities were added till 
 we reached man. We may also have here a pyr- 
 
164 
 
 AN OUTLmE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 amid representing the progress of thought as it 
 passes from the more to the less general. Thus, 
 this pyramid shows us a whole of extension, and 
 how it diminishes till it reaches a point in Cato. 
 A similar pyramid with its members inverted will 
 give us a whole of comprehension diminishing tiU 
 it reaches a point in Being. Thus 
 
 These two pyramids will enable you to under- 
 stand easily the two wholes that are contained in 
 the concept, and how it is that they must be in- 
 versely as each other. A clear understanding of 
 this is the key to most of the processes of thought 
 and of Logic. 
 
 But before showing how this is, let me ask your 
 attention to the peculiarities of the lowest, and of 
 the highest members of the series above given. 
 And first of Cato. This is the name of an indi- 
 vidual, and, according to the definition that has 
 been given, cannot be a concept, since a concept 
 
BEING. 155 
 
 IS formed by a comparison of different individaalfl. 
 What right, then, has it to be among concepts ? 
 ft would have no right there if it were not itself 
 a concept. This it is, but differently formed from 
 those already considered. ' Etymologically a con- 
 cept is a gathering together. As heretofore con- 
 sidered, (it is a gathering together of individuals 
 under a Common name on the ground of a common 
 attribute or attributes. / Here it is a gathering to- 
 gether of attributes in an individual or object, and 
 so it is, as I explained in the fourth lecture, an 
 individual concept, in distinction from a general 
 concept that is formed by generalization. It ia 
 the concept of qualities, as that is of objects ; of 
 comprehension, as that is of extension. In the 
 books generally it is called a percept, but a per- 
 cept is the productpf^ single sense. This givea 
 harmony to the^whole procedure. It places at the 
 foot of the column, and as the condition of gen- 
 eralization, an individual person or object whose 
 distinguishing and common qualities must have 
 been found by observation, so that observation 
 must be the basis of any generalization that can 
 avail anything. 
 
 So much for the lowest term of the series. Now 
 for the highest, that is. Being. This is commonly, 
 and I beheve universally rc^garded by logicians as 
 the result of generalization, and as giving us the 
 summum genus, or most comprehensive class. But 
 is this 80 ? It is conceded that the idea of Being 
 
156 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Ls given us by intuition at the very beginning of 
 our rcental operations. Is the idea of it here dif- 
 4erent from that we had when we began? Do 
 we get something new, or do we complete the 
 circle, excluding everything except Being, with 
 wliich we began? I think the latter. We had 
 with us the idea of being when we began with 
 Cato, and it simply remains as applicable to all 
 things when everything else is excluded. It is not, 
 like the others, an attribute known by observa- 
 tion to belong to an individual or to a class. We 
 know by observation the attributes that belong to 
 Cato, and man, and mammals ; but it is not so 
 with Being. That is a necessary idea accompany- 
 ing the whole process, and is at length left alone 
 as the one thing that must be thought in connec- 
 tion with every particular being and thing. In 
 this view of it, Being is not a concept at all, either 
 individual or general. 
 
 Knowing thus how our column is composed, we 
 shall readily understand those two great opera- 
 tions in thinking, definition and division. Who 
 ever can define and divide accurately will have 
 power as a thinker. A logical definition always 
 consists of the genus, that is, of the class above, 
 and the specific difference. Thus, Cato is a man, 
 with the specific differences that make him Cato. 
 A man is a mammal, with the specific differences 
 that make him man. A mammal is an animal, 
 with the specific differences that make it a mam- 
 
DISTINCTNESS OF THINKING. l6l 
 
 Enal, and so on till we come to Being which can- 
 Qot be defined, because, as is commonly said, there 
 la no higher genus above it. And technically, 
 this is the reason, but the real reason I suppose 
 to be that Being is a simple idea, and simple ideas 
 being known immediately, can only be recognized, 
 but not defined. 
 
 In division we begin at the top and reverse the 
 process by which we went up in definition. Be- 
 ing cannot be divided, but as indicating a group it 
 may be regarded as a concept, and the things that 
 have being may be. Of these, therefore, we make 
 a division into Substance as either spiritual or ma- 
 terial ; then of Material Substance into organized 
 and unorganized; then of organized matter into 
 animals and plants ; then of animals into their great 
 classes, and so on, constantly diminishing numbers 
 and adding qualities, till we reach Cato who haa 
 the greatest possible number of qualities, but who 
 cannot be divided and remain Cato, or a man. Re- 
 maining a man, the individual is incapable of a 
 logical division. ^ 
 
 And now, in connection with the tjwo processes 
 just given, we may see what it is to think clearly, 
 and what to think distinctly, and the difference be- 
 tween these. 
 
 We think^learly when we discriminate a given 
 concept, as man, from all others. This it is often 
 not easy to do. To this day men are not agreed 
 as to the differences between man and animals : 
 
158 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 but whoever shall be able to include in the term 
 man all that is so distinctive of him as to constitute 
 him a man, and nothing else, will think clearly 
 respecting man. This clearness is said to be ob- 
 tained by definition, (but it seems rather to be true 
 that we get at the definition through that clearness 
 which we gain by investigation.\ 
 
 By distinctness, on the other hand, we mean a 
 knowledge of all the divisions, and parts, and 
 quahties, contained within a given concept. We 
 may separate man clearly from otHerHbeings, and 
 yet not have a distinct knowledge of him as he is 
 divided into different races, or as he is made up 
 of those different systems which we are now study- 
 ing. And distinct thinking will respect not merely 
 the general, but also the individual concept. We 
 think distinctly of an individual only when we 
 have an exact knowledge of those traits by which 
 he is distinguished from all others. 
 
 This distinctness of thinking we reach by divis- 
 ion, 01 rather, again, by distinct thinking we are 
 able to make divisions that are exhaustive. This 
 is even more difficult than clear thinking. It is a 
 great thing to be able to think clearly and distinctly 
 on any subject, and no man can do it on many. It 
 is a great thing, and what few men attain to, to be 
 able to handle adequately general terms. Take, 
 for instance, such a word as civilization, and who 
 can fix precisely its elements and Hmits ? Take 
 such a word as virtue. To the child and untrained 
 
ANALYSIS AND SYNTHESIS. 159 
 
 man it presents a mere blur, and who ia there that 
 thinks with entire clearness and distinctness when 
 It is used ? And so it comes to pass that there is a 
 great deal of speech in which such terms are used, 
 which conveys but a very indistinct impression to 
 those who hear it. And so too we may see how it is, 
 aa Campbell says in his " Philosophy of Rhetoric," 
 that men may speak and write nonsense without 
 knowing it. The words are familiar, they are cor- 
 rectly ari'anged, they have connected with them, 
 it may be, pleasing and stimulating associations, 
 but when you come to analyze them they mean 
 nothing at all. I remember inquiring of an author 
 who sent me his work for criticism, what a particu- 
 lar passage meant. He replied that he thought it 
 meant something when he wrote it, but was satis- 
 fied it did not. Of this there is not a little, espe- 
 cially in writing supposed to be " deep." 
 
 The two wholes in the column presented, related 
 L*3 they are inversely to each other, have given rise 
 to no little difficulty among philosophers in regard 
 to the processes of analysis and sjtd thesis. Some 
 philosophers have called it an analysis to begin at 
 the bottom and throw off properties, and a synthe- 
 sis to begin at the same place and add objects , 
 V57hile others have called it an analysis to begin at 
 the top and throw off objects, and a synthesis to 
 add properties, and so, dealing with the same 
 elements, they have been at cross purposes and have 
 •eemed to contradict each other. Both were right 
 
160 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 but they begau with different wholes, and did not 
 think cleai'ly. 
 
 We have now found all the substantive materials 
 which the mind forms and with which it works ex- 
 cept one. We speak of the individual, of man, 
 and of humanity. Humanity is jwhat is called an 
 abstract term. In forming it we abstract what 
 belongs to man universally, and then, having con- 
 densed it into a word, we deal with it as if it were 
 a separate thing. It is not a separate thing. It 
 has no real existence, but it is convenient for us to 
 regard it thus, and to make use, in this way, of ab- 
 stract terms. 
 
 We have, then, as the substantive product of 
 our mental action up to this point, and as the mate- 
 rials for our future work : First. The primitive 
 necessary ideas of Reason. Second. Percepts. 
 Third. Individual or comprehensive concepts. 
 Fourth. General concepts. Fifth. Abstract terms. 
 These are the materials with which we are con- 
 stantly dealing, and these are all. Of these, each 
 is differently formed. Each has its own laws and 
 is subject to its own processes ; and it will be an 
 era in mental science when these shall be clearly 
 discriminated, and there shall be no attempt to 
 employ the processes which belong only to one in 
 dealing with the others. 
 
 No one can know the past without seeing that 
 much labor has been spent in manipulating the 
 general concept which could have no possible bene- 
 
DISCBIMINATION BETWEEN IDEAS, 161 
 
 fit till more liad been given to the investigation of 
 individual objects, and so to the enriching of indi- 
 vidual concepts. The generaLis dep endent upoD 
 the individual concept for. its whole value, and 
 mfen might as well be employed in blowing soap- 
 bubbles as in ringing changes upon general terms, 
 quite as empty, except as they are freighted with 
 meaning from individual concepts. It has been 
 a serious mistake to suppose that labor in one of 
 these departments could be a substitute for it in 
 the other. 
 
 I cannot help thinking also that there has been, 
 and is, a want^f discrimination between the neces- 
 sary ideas of Reason given us at first on the left 
 side of the line on our diagram, and those found by 
 generalization. These are wholly different in their 
 origin and characteristics, and should be named 
 and treated different! y.J^n the one we have a com- 
 plex product given by observation, the comparison 
 of different objects by abstraction and generali- 
 zation. There is about these ideas no necessity 
 either of the ideas themselves, or in the processes 
 by which they are formed. ^Jn the other the product 
 is simple, it comes without any process of abstrac- 
 tion or generalization. It is not the^pjxuiiict of 
 any process of thinking, but its condition ; and not 
 only are the ideas themselves necessary, but all pro- 
 cesses and movements of the mind, so far as these 
 are elements in them, are necessary also. Looking 
 then at the process by which, as we have seen, con 
 u 
 
162 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 cepta are formed, I ask you by what process that 
 shall conduce to clearness of thought and of expres- 
 sion we can make concepts of these ideas and thus 
 bring them under the same class with those formed 
 by generalization. And yet this is constantly dose, 
 and by our most eminent writers. And not only 
 io, but the processes, as of induction, that have 
 properly for their material only the products of 
 observation and generalization, are nommally trans- 
 ferred to these ideas as if they were the same. I 
 venture to question whether these ideas can ever 
 become what may properly be called concepts, or 
 can be the material for any process that can prop- 
 erly be called induction. In these studies nothing 
 can be more confusing than the transference of 
 the same name to things and processes that are 
 radically, or essentially different. 
 
 But however this may be, we have now those 
 mental products which are to be employed as 
 elements and materials in the remaining elabora- 
 tive processes, as those processes are generally un- 
 derstood. Involving, as they must, the ideas of 
 Reason, Judgment and Reasoning are supposed to 
 have for their material, and to deal directly with 
 the percept, the individual concept, the general 
 concept, and with abstract terms. We proceed then 
 to the next of the elaborative processes mentioned, 
 
JUDGMENT; REASONING. 163 
 
 THE JUDGMENT. 
 
 In one view of it, judgment is elementary. 1 
 do not well see how we can think without judging. 
 And that is the doctrine of the philosophers gen- 
 erally. They say that a judgment is involved in 
 all our thinking. But as it is used in logic, and 
 used generally, the term does not go back in that 
 way. As thus used, it is subsequent to a compari- 
 son either of objects or concepts, and consists in an 
 affirmation that they agree or disagree. Iron is a 
 metal ; we know what iron is, and we know what 
 metal is, and we affirm that they agree ; or that 
 one of these comes under the other. That is a 
 judgment. A judgment is necessarily expressed 
 in a proposition ; and this will be either affirma* 
 tive or negative. The proposition again must con- 
 tain either expressly or impliedly two terms, indi- 
 cating the notions compared, and a copida, which 
 will always be some form of the verb to be. This 
 is true of judgment in general. Of its different 
 forms, as Categorical, Hypothetical, and Disjunc- 
 tive, it is not necessary to speak. 
 
 For judgment, as we have now considered it, the 
 previous Elaborative processes were a condition ; 
 and Judgment, together with those processes, is a 
 oondition for the next of those processes, that is, — 
 
 L' 
 
 REASONTNG. 
 
 By Reasoning we gain mediate knowledga) In 
 
104 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 mtuitioiir--we~JiaYi^_jinmfidiate_kno\WedgeJ^ in 
 reasoumg we get a knowledge of one i,\m\g by 
 means of otlier things. The process of the mind 
 
 in this is said to be discursive instead of intuitive*. 
 
 Its obj ect is to sho w_that a proposition t hat is not 
 Belf-evident is either true or false. Ability to do 
 this Indicates'mental power, but the need of doing 
 it is from a limitation of power. A mind with 
 power enough to see all things directly and intui- 
 tively would not reason. And not only do we 
 reason when we prove, or disprove propositions, 
 but also when we assign causes, or give reasons, or 
 explain anything. Here is a rainbow. You wish 
 to know how it came, and you discover the laws of 
 light, and its operations in connection with the 
 rain drops, so that you are able to give the reason 
 or cause of its being there ; and that is Reasoning. 
 It is a passage from a thiug to its cause by means 
 of other things, in the same way as we pass from 
 one truth to another by means of one or more in 
 termediate propositions. 
 
 Of Reasoning there are several forms, and, in my 
 judgment, more tlian one process. Whately in- 
 sists strenuously that there is but one. He says : 
 " In every instance in which we reason in the 
 Btrict sense of the word . . .a certain process takes 
 place in the mind which is one and the same in aU 
 cases, provided it be rightly conducted." But of 
 that we can judge better after conwidering tho 
 
INDUCTION. - 165 
 
 different forms which reasoning assumes. And . 
 
 first of ^ I * 
 
 ENDUCTION. -^ 
 
 I In this we establish general facts, or laws, or 
 truths, from particular instances. IWe begin with 
 the individual, we compare individual with indi- 
 vidual, and go on till we feel authorized to affirm 
 a general truth. 
 
 This assumes two forms. There is first what is 
 called, by the logicians. Formal Induction, in which 
 the conclusion is drawn, or is said to be, from an 
 enumeration of each case. This is all the Induction 
 that Sir William Hamilton allows of in logic, be- 
 cause he allows of nothing as belonging to logic, 
 unless the conclusion is necessitated by the laws 
 of thought. But it may be questioned whether in- 
 duction by simple enumeration is reasoning at all. 
 Suppose I enumerate the sixteen wards of Boston, 
 and affirm of each that it has a steam-fire engine, 
 and then say, therefore every ward of Boston has 
 ft steam-fire engine, would that be reasoning or 
 would it be an assertion of the same thing in a 
 different form ? I think the latter. But however 
 that may be, this is not what people generally un- 
 derstand by Induction. They understand by it 
 the bringing in of numerous individual instances . 
 by observation, and then concluding from them 
 over to a general truth. The observation is pre- 
 \yaratory to the induction, but no part of it. That 
 
166 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 consists in so reasoning from observed instances to 
 those not observed as to constitute a class, or to find 
 a general law. 
 
 In any particular instance of induction, the in- 
 quiry is whether we are authorized to extend, in 
 that instance, uniformity of causation, of construc- 
 tion, of succession, of appearance even as in color, 
 from the instances which we have observed to oth- 
 ers not observed in such a way as to make of them 
 one class, as to affirm of them the same general 
 trutJis, and to make of those general truths prem- 
 ises for deductive reasoning. All the ground we 
 can have for this is Analogy, or a likeness in some 
 respects between the phenomena. That likeness 
 in some respects leads us to infer likeness in others 
 is a fact, and a fimdamental fact in the reasonings 
 of life. It is the basis of probable reasoning. " It 
 is not my design," says Bishop Butler, "to in- 
 quire farther into the nature, the foundation, and 
 measure of probability ; or whence it proceeds that 
 likeness should beget that presumption, opinion, 
 and full conviction, which the human mind is 
 tormed to receive from it, and which it does neces- 
 sarily produce in every one." So when Franklin 
 had observed certain similarities between terrestrial 
 electricity and lightning, he suspected they might 
 be the same ; but in inquiring whether he had a 
 right to put them in the same class, the question 
 was not about the uniformity of nature in general, 
 and in other departments, but whether the ob* 
 
INDUCTION. 167 
 
 served similaritiea were sufficient to justify him in 
 inferring that they were altogether similar, or at 
 least so far as to be attributable to the same cause. 
 
 But while likeness alone raises this expectation, 
 other things may come in. Seeing an animal with 
 horns, that was also cloven-footed, some slight ex- 
 pectation might be raised that the next kind of 
 animal with horns would also be cloven-footed ; but 
 as no reason of congruity or utility can be assigned 
 for this, it would requu-e many instances to justify 
 as in saying, as we now do, that all horned animals 
 are cloven-footed. But, observing one kind of ani- 
 mal, as the sheep, destitute of upper cutting teeth 
 and also chewing the cud ; we should much more 
 readily affirm the chewing of the cud of all other aixi- 
 mals destitute of upper cutting teeth because there 
 is an evident congruity and utility in it. While, 
 therefore, likeness in certain respects is indispen- 
 sable as the ground of any Induction ; yet othei 
 things come in to determine the degree of likeness 
 or the number of instances required, and of these 
 uo exact statement can be made. 
 
 It woald appear, therefore, that an act of Induc- 
 tion may respect causes, as of the movements of the 
 heavenly bodies ; or structures, as of homed ani- 
 mals that are also cloven-footed ; or successions, as 
 of the seasons; or mere color, as when we infer 
 that all crows are black. In each case we inquire, 
 not, as is commonly said, whether we may infer 
 from a part to the whole, which would be a begging 
 
168 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 of the question, but whether we may regard ss a 
 whole, that is, put into one class, beings and phe- 
 nomena which had been regarded as separate. 
 With phenomena thus different, and with resem- 
 blances of every shade, we might expect that the 
 human mind would find here, instead of a logical 
 treadmill, constant calls for all its natural and ac- 
 quired sagacity. 
 
 Such being the process of Induction, it remains 
 to inquire for its underlying axiom. T here i s 
 
 r^f^Jlf) fiX^fPp^' ^hA nnifnrmify of CaUSatloU. By this 
 
 we mean that the sa me causes operating mider the 
 same circumstances, will produce the same effects. 
 Instead of this, modem science assumes as the 
 axiom of Induction that '' Nature is uniform.' 
 And here we see the source of much of the false 
 logic of science. It assumes, wholly without 
 proof, and against it, that nature and its laws are 
 uniform and independent. This is the one postu- 
 late of mere scientists on which their whole struc- 
 ture rests. But so far is the general proposition that 
 nature is uniform from being at the basis of our 
 Induction that it is itself the result of Induction. 
 There is doubtless in man, as in animals, an in- 
 stinctive adjustment of his nature to his surround- 
 ings as uniform. But this is not Induction, nor 
 its basis. As intelHgent and scientific, man has 
 reached particular uniformities, as of the seasons, 
 of tides, of comets, only after such induction as 
 each case seemed to demand. This he has done 
 
AXIOM OF INDUCTION. 169 
 
 not on the ground of uniformity of nature, for the 
 question in each particular case was whether nature 
 would be uniform in that case, but solely on the 
 ground of the uniformity of causation. That nature 
 is uniform in her different departments and through- 
 out her domain is by no means an instinctive belief 
 It was long before the laws that prevail on the earth 
 were supposed to extend to the heavens ; and it 
 was a surprise to find that the sun and fixed stars 
 are composed of the same materials as our earth. 
 If it were an axiom that " nature is uniform," 
 then nature could not be broken up without fal- 
 sifying a fundamental law of belief. But if we 
 assume that the only axiom appHcable in Induc- 
 tion is uniformity of causation, the other uniform- 
 ities following from that, two things will follow. 
 
 jCne is that we cannot put Induction into a syl- 
 logism. The fact that causes will continue in the 
 future to operate as they do now, or that they will 
 continue to operate at all, is not contained in the 
 fact that they are operating now, in the same way 
 that the conclusion of a syllogism is contained in 
 the premises. It is not contained in it at all. 
 One assertion is not a general truth under which 
 the other comes, and no ingenuity can make it so. 
 The conclusion, therefore, or inference, can be only 
 probable. No axiomatic major premiss can give 
 to it one particle of its own evidence, and nothing 
 can be gained by any attempt to make it do that. 
 
 ri The second thing that will follow ia that the 
 
170 AH OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 order of nature may be changeil or broken up 
 w^ithout interfering with any law of thought or 
 of human belief. That this may be, the whole 
 history of belief shows. We do indeed naturally 
 expect that causes now operating will continue to 
 operate ; that structures similar to those now grow- 
 ing up will continue to grow, that events occur- 
 ring regularly now will continue to occur ; but if 
 this were not to be so it would contradict no law 
 of thought ; it would be opposed to no fiinda 
 mental axiom. We have but to suppose that 
 back of all bases of Induction, back of uniformities 
 and laws of nature, there is a Personal Cause^ and 
 all difficulty about miracles, or about any such fu- 
 ture catastrophe £ia the Bible reveals, is removed 
 at once. 
 
 Induction presupposes a ground of imiformity 
 which presents itself to us as impersonal. This 
 ground may indeed be maintained, and so, over- 
 ruled and suspended, by a personal being ; but as 
 a ground of induction the personal element is not 
 recognized. Hence the moment we begin to rea- 
 son about final causes, or ends, and nature re- 
 garded as the work of a personal being, we pass 
 from the region of nature to that of personality, 
 and the question whether we have a right thus to 
 pass cannot be decided by Induction. We reason 
 respecting the conduct of personal beings, on the 
 ground that they will be consistent with them- 
 ^lelves ; and we reason respecting the processes and 
 
INDUCTION — GROUND IMPEBSONAl 171 
 
 laws of uature, on the ground that ih) mR be 
 consistent with themselves ; but it is onlj the laet 
 that we call Induction. The fii-st has no distinct- 
 ive name, probably because it cannot become a 
 science. The underlying principles ere not thfl 
 same, and we should be careful not to confooiL^ 
 khem as has too often been done. 
 
LECTURE VIII. 
 
 KEASONTNG. — ANALOGY AKD EXPEKLENOB. — 
 DEMONSTRATION AND PEOBABLE REASONING. 
 — INFERRING AND PROVING. — 8YSTEMIZA- 
 TION. 
 
 f The Elaborative Faculty takes the crude mate- 
 rials furnished by the Presentative Faculty and 
 modifies them. The operations it performs in 
 doing this, are Comparison, Abstraction, General- 
 ization, Judgment, Reasoning, and Systemization. 
 These processes were shown to follow the law of 
 the conditioning and the conditioned, and to be 
 analogous to those by which food is elaborated for 
 the body. These we have considered as far up as 
 tQ Reasoning, and spoke particularly of Induction. 
 For Induction we found the sole field to be the 
 phenomena furnished by observation ; we found 
 that a conclusion respecting these, whether m 
 tlieir succession or construction, could gain noth- 
 ing from any syllogistic arrangement of terms, 
 and that the only law of behef on which any con- 
 clusion can rest back is that of the uniformity oi 
 causation. If it can be shown in regard to anj* 
 thing that the" same causes will continue to oper- 
 
ANALOGY AND EXPERIENCE. 173 
 
 ate under the same circumstances we may be sure 
 of uniformity. If not, nothing reached by Induc- 
 tion that we may call a law has any claim to be 
 regarded either as absolutely uniform or as per- 
 manent. No law of behef would be violated if it 
 were to be interrupted or broken up at any time. 
 The mouse remains in his underground nest for 
 three months, and " all things continue as they 
 were," but the fourth month the plowman comes, 
 and he must seek a new nest. The question of 
 an interruption is one of evidence like any other, 
 and can be decided only by a knowledge of all the 
 causes that may come in. 
 
 After Induction, Deduction is usually spoken of. 
 Indeed, Deduction is often considered first, and 
 there are reasons for that ; but as Induction is sup- 
 posed by some to be always, and is many times, 
 the condition of Deduction, it comes first here. 
 Then comes, not Deduction, but, as based on the 
 same ground as Induction, reasoning from 
 
 ANALOGY AND EXPERIENCB. 
 
 This, as well as Induction, is what the logicians 
 call modified logic. It can never give certainty. 
 
 In Analo g we reason from individual to ind^- 
 viduaLon the ground of observed similarity in 
 certain points. From similarity in points which 
 we are able to observe, we infer similarity in 
 others which we either cannot, or do not, observe. 
 In Induction we reason from several individuals and 
 
174 AN OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 form a class, or infer a law ; in Analogy we reason 
 from one or more individuab to an individual, and 
 infer resemblance in unobserved qualities or par- 
 ticulars. You have seen a man with red hair, and 
 he was passionate. You see another man with 
 red hair, and infer that he is passionate. A miner 
 finds a mine in connection with certain forma- 
 tions or appearances of the earth above it. Find- 
 ing those appearances again, he reasons from An- 
 alogy and expects to find another mine. The case 
 commonly put is that of reasoning from the earth 
 to the moon. We observe several similarities 
 between the two, and then if we think they will 
 authorize it, we conclude that the moon is inhab- 
 ited. Or, we observe the differences, and infer 
 that the moon is not inhabited. Here we have 
 the same underlying ground as in Induction, It 
 is likeness, giving, as Bishop Butler says, proba- 
 bility — that and nothing more. Hence, though 
 it is a constant ground of inference in life, and a 
 constant means of advancing knowledge, some wiU 
 not admit it as belonging to logic. 
 
 But I spoke of Experience as well as Analogy. 
 Experience is supposed to be a certain, and Anal- 
 ogy an uncertain, ground of inference. How do 
 they differ ? We have strict experience only- of 
 what has been, and now is. These we may know 
 certainly by experience, and these only. We say 
 we know by experience that fire will bum. Not 
 strictly. We know by experience that fire has 
 
EXPERIENCE AND ANALOGY. 175 
 
 burned ; we infer from experience that it will 
 bum; but in strict experience the certainty of 
 the past so passes over into the future that we say 
 we know both. We reason from Expeiience, as 
 from Analogy, in regard to objects that coexist 
 in space, and events that succeed each other in 
 time; and we reason from strict experience only 
 on the supposition that the objects and causative 
 agencies continue to be either the same or pre- 
 cisely similar in that point, or in those points on 
 w^hich the argument turns. We then feel the 
 same certainty of our conclusion that we do in 
 the continuance of the laws of nature ; but if there 
 be any departure from identity or exact similarity 
 in the circumstances, the certainty will be propor- 
 tionately diminished. Our reasoning will be from 
 Analogy, and not from Experience. 
 
 We have thus the exact difference between Ex- 
 perience and Analogy so far as Analogy is a ground 
 of argument. All analog'v implies resemblance, but 
 resemblance may be^ either betw eeDT thin gs or their 
 relations. It is only a resemblance between things 
 that can be a basis of argument ; a resemblance 
 between relations is the basis of figures of speech. 
 There is no resemblance between the foot of a man 
 and the foot of a mountain or between the head 
 of a man and the head of a nail, or of a river, or 
 of a government, therefore we cannot reason from 
 one to the other, but there is a resemblance of 
 relations, and so there is a foundation for a figure 
 
176 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 of speecli. There is no resemblance between light 
 and truth, but truth is to the intellect what light 
 is to the eye, and from this resemblance of rela- 
 tions they are said to be analogous to each other. 
 It is true that resemblance in relations generally 
 implies some resemblance in things, but we are to 
 be careful not to confound these two gi'ounds of 
 Analog}^ and so mistake for Reasoning, mere fig- 
 ures of speech. 
 
 But if the account now given of the difference 
 between Analogy and Experience be correct we 
 shall see that the cases are relatively few in which 
 we reason from strict experience, and that, in most 
 cases in which we are said to do that, we reason 
 from analogy. This is well illustrated by Dugald 
 Stewart. Men are said to be governed by experi- 
 ence in politics or statesmansliip, but no two cases 
 exactly alike ever occur, and, for the most part, 
 in this department what is called experience is not 
 only analogy, but a remote or loose analogy. The 
 same is true, and perhaps more signally, in medi- 
 cine. Without undervaluing what is called expe- 
 rience in that, for by it great sagacity is acquired, 
 it may be said that cases seldom occur in which it 
 is possible to be guided by a strict experience. 
 The same name is prescribed for, but from differ- 
 ence of age, constitution, habits, no two cases are 
 wholly alike, and diseases properly bearing the 
 same name may require, with different persons, 
 at different periods, in different localities, differ^ 
 
EXPERIENCE AND ANALOGY. 177 
 
 ent and even opposite treatment ; while a rou 
 tine practitioner, claiming that he is governed by 
 experience, will take the easy, perhaps reputable, 
 but perhaps also fatal course of treating them all 
 alike. This uniformity of names and diversity 
 of things explams the number of infallible reme- 
 dies that are advertised, all claiming the sanction 
 of experience. No doubt all have proved bene- 
 ficial in certain cases, and would in others if they 
 were exactly like them. There is the difficulty. 
 There is uniformity of causation, but such a vari- 
 ety of cases that it is impossible to apply the prin- 
 ciple. Let any one have the rheumatism and 
 he will be surprised at the number of those who 
 will propose remedies that they know by experi- 
 ence will cure it. What they really know is that 
 they took the remedy and got well, possibly in 
 Bpite of it. 
 
 In theory an exact line can be drawn between 
 A.nalogy and Experience, in practice it seldom can. 
 The usage of language would make it to be Ex- 
 perience when we reason from one individual of a 
 species to another of the same species, and Anal- 
 ogy when we reason from one species to another. 
 But we can reason more safely from species to 
 species on some points than from individual to in- 
 dividual on others. However alike two men may 
 seem, we cannot be sure that the same remedy 
 that will cure one will cure the other. As dif- 
 ferent as an alligator is from a man we might 
 
 12 
 
178 AN OXJTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 be sure it would kill him to cut off his head. The 
 essential thiug whether lq Analogy or Experience, 
 is to make sure of the similarity or identity of 
 that on which the reasoning turns. There may 
 be great diversity in other respects, but if that be 
 the same we may conclude safely. 
 
 These processes of Induction, Analogy, and Ex- 
 perience I have dwelt on because they belong to 
 the regulation of our daily life. We are all, 
 yoimg and old, unlearned and learned, constantly 
 carrying them on, and it is well for us to under- 
 stand the ground on which they proceed. 
 
 We now pass to 
 
 DEDUCTION. 
 
 This is commonly said to be opposed to Induc- 
 tion, that beginning with particulars and reaching 
 general truths ; this beginning with general truths 
 and deducing particulars from them. So far as 
 it does this. Deduction is a process that assumes, 
 or may assume, the form of the syllogism, thus — 
 
 All explosive substances are dangerous. 
 
 Nitroglycerine is an explosive substance. 
 
 Therefore nitroglycerine is dangerous. 
 
 This is a form of reasoning the importance of 
 which has, at times, been strangely exaggerated. 
 At times, also, it has been undervalued. Even 
 yet, while a man so eminent as Archbishop Whate- 
 ly says that all forms of Reasoning may be 
 brought under it> John Stuart Mill says it is not n 
 
THE SYLLOGISM. 179 
 
 form of reasoning at all. What then are we to 
 do ? Perhaps we cannot do better than first to 
 explain what the process is, and then inquire re- 
 specting its nature and value. 
 
 Referring to the example given, it will be seen 
 that we first affirm something of a class of sub 
 stances ; that we then affirm of a particular sub- 
 stance that it comes under that class, and then 
 conclude that what belongs to the whole class be- 
 longs also to the particular substance affirmed to 
 come under it. Putting this in its most general 
 form we have the dictum of Aristotle, which is 
 that " Wbateven-may^bfi-aiffirmed^xar denied nf a. 
 clasa,_ .may be afllrmgd _ or deniM of whatever 
 comes under thatjclass." Here the conclusion is 
 made to depend on the class relation. Sir Wil- 
 liam Hamilton makes it depend on the relation 
 of whole and part. His general maxim is that 
 * What is part -x>f- a- part is part of ihe- wholeJ* 
 This is more comprehensive than the other, but 
 the principle is the same. In both the proof is 
 wholly from the fact that one thing is included in 
 another as a smaller circle is included in a larger. 
 
 But to trace the process more particularly. We 
 wish to prove to an unbeliever that nitroglycerine 
 is dangerous. We have here two terms that indi- 
 cate, the one a substance, the other an attribute, 
 and we wish to know whether we may affirm of 
 that attribute that it belongs to that substance. 
 We cannot bring them together directly. We 
 
180 AN OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 therefore find a third or middle term that indi- 
 cates a cliiss of substances of which we both agree 
 that the attribute, dangerous, can be aflBrmed. li 
 now we can show that nitroglycerine comes under 
 that class our point is gained. This we do, as in 
 the example, by a set of comparisons. We first 
 compare, in the major proposition, the major term, 
 dangerous, with the middle term, explosive sub- 
 stances, and find that they agree. We then com- 
 pare also the minor term, nitroglycerine, with the 
 Bame middle term, and find that they agree ; and 
 we then infer that the major term, dangerous, 
 agrees with the minor term, nitroglycerine, on 
 the principle that things which agree with the 
 same thing agree with each other. Here you will 
 see that I bring in another principle wider than 
 that of class relations, or of whole and part, that of 
 agreement, and this Whately and the logicians 
 generally bring in without distinguishing it from 
 those principles, or from those of identity and 
 equaHty. Everywhere Whately asserts that all 
 Reasoning can be brought under the dictum, and 
 yet he lays down as the axioms of pure categorical 
 syllogisms, first, " If two terms agree with one and 
 the same third they agree with each other ; " sec- 
 ond, " If one term agrees, and another disagrees 
 with one and the same third, these two disagree 
 with each other," evidently supposing that these 
 axioms are identical with the dictum. But they 
 are not. They are broader, and apply to cases to 
 
DEDUCTIVE BEASONINQ. 181 
 
 which neither the dictum nor the axiom of Hamil- 
 ton will apply. The principle itself is different, 
 and that such a man as Whately did not see this, 
 setting aside as it does his theory of the syllogism 
 as inclusive of all reasoning, shows the relative dif- 
 ficulty and importance of a careful discrimination 
 of the elements with which we deal as compared 
 with a ready command of logical forms. The dic- 
 tum under which he would bring all Reasoning 
 does not even apply to all Deductive Reasonmg. 
 If I say that A equals B, B equals C, therefore 
 C equals A, there is conclusive reasoning under 
 the relation of equality which may perhaps come 
 under that of agreement, but there is no class re- 
 lation, and no whole and part. It will be found, 
 and mdeed enters into its very form, that the dic- 
 tum, and so the syllogism, is not applicable ex- 
 cept when a general concept forms a part of the 
 major premiss. The regular syllogism begins 
 with that ; it makes a general affirmation from 
 which some particular truth is deduced, and to 
 make such deduction is its province. Syllogistic 
 logic teaches the proper use of general terms 
 when they are employed in reasoning ; that, and 
 nothing else. 
 
 But is what we term syllogistic reasoning, rea- 
 floning at all ? Yes, in the sense that all our rea- 
 sonings where general terms are involved, when 
 we state the process in full, assume that form. 
 Let the question be. Is this man a murderer? 
 
182 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Certain facts being given, you determine by a pro- 
 cess of reasoning that he killed the man. But did 
 he do it with malice ? You determine that also by 
 a process of reasoning. You then say that — 
 
 Mulder is killmg with malice prepense ; 
 
 This man killed with malice prepense ; 
 
 Therefore this man is a murderer. 
 
 The proof of the murder, and the force of the 
 reasoning does not turn on any manipulation of 
 terms, or class relations, but on the facts which give 
 us the right to use our terms, and which enable 
 us to bring the individual into those class relations. 
 It is not proved by the syllogism that the man 
 committed the murder, but the syllogism is the 
 form which the proof takes in our minds when we 
 state it fully and in order. As is stated by Pres- 
 ident Porter, the relation on which the proof 
 turns is that of reason and consequent. 
 
 Initsform the syllogism is demonstrative. No 
 one can assent to the premises without assenting 
 xjo the conclusion, but the evidence for the conclu- 
 Bion is only eqiial to that for each of the premi- 
 ses, and that can never be demonstrative. Hence, 
 unless we admit the syllogism into mathematics, 
 where I do not think it belongs, it can never give 
 ua demonstration. Hence, too, it is evident that 
 the main labor, when we would estabhsh a fact 
 by a process of which reasoning must form a part» 
 will be to estabhsh the premises and bring them 
 together. That being done, the inference, which 
 
DEMONSTRATION AND PROBABLE REASOmNQ 183 
 
 is strictly the act of reasoning, is readily drawn. 
 Hence, again, the inadequacy and necessary fail- 
 are of logical forms taken by themselves, as they 
 were among the schoolmen, in the investigation 
 of truth. Doubtless it is easier to combine and 
 transpose terms variously and ingeniously than to 
 analyze compounds, and unravel complexities, and 
 investigate facts and laws ; and the process may 
 tend to a certain readiness and sharpness of intel- 
 lect, but it can avail nothing by itself, and rela- 
 tively little in any way to the advancement of 
 truth. If we include in syllogistic logic a knowl- 
 edge of the concept with its relations of extension 
 and comprehension, or, as they are sometimea 
 called, of quantity and quality, and also a knowl- 
 edge of the relations in which the terms repre- 
 senting concepts must stand to each other that 
 inferences may be safely drawn, we have a wide 
 and worthy field of study, but less so than that 
 furnished by Experience, Analogy, and Induction 
 Perhaps it is not more important than the field ii 
 which our reasonings respect only individual and ab 
 ^tract notions and terms, and in which the pruicipl( 
 of reasoning is either that of identity or equality 
 Th e results^ Re asoning are either demonstra- 
 tive_ii]i_ppeb3bte, aiidJHilffiffiption Ts si^posed- 
 to tuxnxm the certainty or. uncertainty of the coa:, 
 
 elusion. It does not. It turns on thenature-xxf 
 
 the conclusion. Demonstration has nothing to do 
 tvith facts, or with anything that actually exists. 
 
184 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 It begins with a supposition. In a mathemat- 
 ical demonstration you do not demonstrate any 
 thing respecting the figure that you draw. Sup- 
 pose I draw what I call a right angled triangle, I 
 cannot demonstrate that the angle I call a right 
 angle is so. Whatever knowledge I may get of it 
 I must get from the eye or from measurement. 
 What I do then is to make a supposition or hy- 
 pothesis. I say, let it be a right-angled triangle, 
 and then it will follow that the sum of the two 
 other angles will be equal to a right angle. Or, 
 again, if we suppose A equal to B, and B equal 
 to C, it will follow that C is equal to A. We 
 cannot know that A is equal to B, or B to C, or 
 if we do know it, it cannot be by demonstration. 
 Beginning therefore, as a demonstration always 
 must, with a supposition, it can never prove a fact. 
 We reach what we may call a hypothetical truth, 
 whereas, in probable reasoning, we reach a fact. 
 In the one case we have no uncertainty except 
 that which may be connected with the steps of 
 the process ; in the other we have the uncertainty 
 connected with observation and testimony. 
 
 But not only the starting point, and so the re- 
 sult, are different in a demonstration, but also the 
 process. To a demonstration it is necessary that 
 there should be intuitive evidence at every step. 
 This is as essential as that it should begin with a 
 hypothesis. 
 
 It is to be said of demonstrative reasoning alsd 
 
MATHEMATICAL DEMONSTRATION. 185 
 
 that it admits of no degrees. What we demon* 
 'itrate is necessarily true, true without a doubtT 
 Anything clainmig to be a dem onstration .which 
 does not give us a conchision of which that can be 
 said, is good for nothing at all. 
 
 In all these respects probable reasoning is differ- 
 ent. It starts from a fact, or from facts ; there is 
 not intuitive evidence at every step, and so it ad- 
 mits of degrees of every shade from the slightest 
 probabihty up to a certainty equal to that of dem- 
 onstration. The term probable is unfortimate here 
 as implying some degree of doubtfulness in the 
 conclusion. Ordinarily there is, but we may have 
 from what is called^ probable evidence, and prob- 
 able reasoning;,_^_certainty as absolute as from 
 demonstration. 
 
 In probable^jreasoning we start;, fronxiacts, and 
 we pro.Y^„iacts ; in demonstrative reasoning we 
 start from a hypothesis andproceed to our conclu- 
 sion by^successlve intuitionsf ancTlt seems to me 
 that die processes m the two cases rest upon dif- 
 ferent principles of reasoning. In the syllop sm, 
 saying nothing of the otlier branches of probable 
 reasoning, we staitfrom a general proposition which 
 includes withiji itself the^^rticular-iruth sought, 
 and when the conclusion is- reached it may be 
 fairly said to be dedueed from the premises be- 
 cause it was contaiaed in themT BuFTri^demon- 
 strative reasoning, having our definitions and 
 axioms, not, as is commoiJy said, to staxt from 
 
186 Aii OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 B8 if they included anytliing, but as conditionfl ol 
 reasoning at all, we start from .aJiypothesis and 
 proceed, as has been said, by successij^^e intuitions, 
 maldng as we go such suppositions or construc- 
 tions as will give us the intuition. To do this 
 may require much ingenuity, and it is a part of 
 the process in the original work, but is no part of 
 the work of those who come after, and is not 
 properly a part of tlie reasoning. The conclusion 
 reached is not contained in anything known be- 
 fore, but is seen to be true, and is connected with 
 what was known by means of suppositions or con- 
 structions made as we go along. K I say that A 
 is equal to B, and B to C, and so on to X, it 
 will follow not only that X is equal to A, but to 
 every member of the series, and this I suppose 
 to be the type of much if not of all demonstrative 
 reasoning. The difference between this and syl- 
 logistic reasoning may be illustrated by two pos- 
 iiible modes of constructing a bridge. We may 
 suppose a structure fastened to one bank contain- 
 ing in it slides that may be drawn out, if we 
 only know how, till they shall span the stream. 
 Or we may suppose, as is done, that into an abut- 
 ment made firm on one side there is fastened the 
 support for a single step, and that we then fasten 
 by clamps or bolts to the end of tliat the support 
 for a second step, and so on till we get over. 
 
 The common account of demonstrative reason- 
 ing is that it is syllogistic, and properly deductive 
 
THBEE FIELDS OF BEASONINO. 187 
 
 rather than constructive ; and that it has for ita 
 major proposition either the axioms, or definitions^ 
 or both. It is said that C is equal to A, in the 
 case ^ven, because things that are equal to the 
 same thing are equal to each other, whereas the 
 general proposition is no more evident than the 
 particular case, and is, indeed, a generalization 
 from particular cases, all having equal authority 
 as intuitions. 
 
 In presenting my view of this point I am happy 
 to agree substantially with Dr. McCosh in hia 
 Logic recently published. ^^ 
 
 We have then, looking at the ' subject as a 
 whole, three fields of reasoning under three differ- 
 ent principles. The first is that of Experience, 
 Analogy, and Induction, in which the principles 
 are uniformity or similarity. I do not agree with 
 Dr. McCosh in thinking that this can be brought 
 under the syllogism. If it can in form, nothing 
 is gained ; for no particle of the certainty belong- 
 ing to the general axiom can be carried over to 
 any particular case. 
 
 The second field is that of general reasoning in 
 which the principle is that of the class relation, or 
 of whole and part by which one thing is included 
 within another, but with implied reasons for their 
 leing thus included. This gives us the form of 
 demonstration, but never its reality. 
 
 The third field is that which has for ita sub- 
 ject individual concepts and abstract terms, and 
 
188 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 which Las for its principles Identity and £qaa]- 
 Ity. 
 
 In connection with this subject of Reasoning 
 there are some inquiries and practical points that 
 ueed attention, and 
 
 First, It demonstrative reasoning, and, indeed, 
 all mathematical reiisoning as applied to realities, 
 starts from hypothesis, we inquire how it comes to 
 pass that it can be applied so extensively and ac- 
 curately in science and in hfe. It is because we 
 are able in both to make the hj^othesis correspond 
 so nearly with the fact ; or rather, it is in science 
 because the physical universe is constructed on 
 mathematical principles and we have been able in 
 certain cases to discover whatjthose principles are. 
 If we suppose the form of the earth's orbit to be 
 an ellipse, and that be the fact, we can calculate 
 its time and place. If we suppose the force of 
 gravity to be directly as the mass of matter, and 
 inversely as the square of the distance from the 
 Bun, we can estimate it for any given point. If we 
 suppose atoms to unite in definite proportions we 
 can tell the results of a given mixture. So in life ; 
 such precision of measurement and weight are 
 reached, that the hypothesis wiU approximate the 
 fact sufficiently for practical purposes. Still we 
 may see how figures will he. A man brings yon 
 a bill for six cords of wood, or six tons of coal, at 
 six dollars for each. The only thing certain about 
 it is that six times six make thirty-six, Whec 
 
PROVING AND INFEREINa. 189 
 
 the hypothesis is at fault, or there is some error in 
 our measures, or weights, or numberings, there 
 are no greater liars than figures. 
 
 We see also in connection with demonstrative 
 reasoning the fallacy by which mathematicians are 
 misled when they apply mathematics to the order 
 of nature. That which can be demonstrated can- 
 not be changed by will, and they transfer over to 
 the phenomena and their order the necessity which 
 belongs to demonstration as a process that is con- 
 cerned only with hypotheses and abstract rela- 
 tions. The influence of this fallacy is subtle and 
 prevalent. 
 
 I ask your attention also, and finally as con- 
 nected with reasoning, to a practical point insisted 
 on by Whately — the difference between proving 
 and inferring. When a man sets himself, or is 
 set, to prove anything, he has a conclusion given 
 him, and his business is to find out all the con- 
 siderations he can that will sustain that conclu- 
 sion. A lawyer assumes the defense of an alleged 
 criminal. What is his business ? It is to prove 
 that he is innocent. That is what he is paid for. 
 And what does he do? He does not look over 
 the whole case, or care to know anything except 
 what will substantiate the point that is given him 
 to prove. Here again is a lawyer on the other 
 side whose business it is to prove that the mar is 
 guilty, and what does he do ? He finds out all 
 the facts that bear on that, and presents them aa 
 
190 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 strongly as he can ; and so these men are adyo 
 cates. Now what does the judge do ? He com- 
 pares all the facts, looks at them impartially on 
 one side, and on the other, and infers from them 
 the truth. 
 
 This is a point I wish to insist on because most 
 men are constantly advocates, and because I be- 
 lieve that the love of the truth and fairness in 
 searching for it are scarcely less essential to right 
 character and the welfare of society than the tell- 
 ing of the truth. But instead of this the whole 
 intellectual activity of many ls spent in seeking to 
 substantiate what they are brought up to believe, 
 or what they are determined to believe because it 
 is for their interest to believe it. Men are bom 
 into parties, pohtical and religious, or they are 
 converted into them. They fall into cliques and 
 sets, and once there, they become simply advo- 
 cates, and truth has nothing further to hope from 
 them in her progress. Or perhaps it is mere will 
 They have adopted a theory. They have 8aid» 
 " I believe so," and are determined to make out 
 that it is so because they have said it. The sin- 
 cerity of most men in their belief consists in really 
 believing what they have been taught, or what 
 they wish to believe and seem to themselves to 
 have proved, rather than in honestly seeking to 
 infer the truth. But all this is utterly wrong. In 
 everything that comes up bearing upon the in- 
 terest of truth or of society, in all party questions, 
 
SYSTEMIZATION. 191 
 
 political or religious, it is the business of every 
 man to put and hold himself in the position of one 
 who infers^ that is in a judicial position, and to 
 hold an even balance. 
 
 We now come to the last operation mentioned 
 as performed by the Intellect, that is 
 
 SYSTEMIZATIOA. 
 
 It has been said that unity in the midst of 
 variety is the principle of beauty. Be tEisTaa^it 
 may, it is the principle of system. In^imity:^ 
 meaning _by that a unit, there can be no system. 
 In variety without unity there can be none, but 
 when we bring variety into unity we either form, 
 ^r enlarge a system. "We bring the several parts 
 that seemed unrelated into relation, and, accord- 
 ing to the etymology of the word, make them 
 stand up together; and it is among the higher 
 joys from the Intellect to be able to do this in any 
 department of nature or of study. It is, indeed, 
 here, and perhaps here only, that we find the point 
 of contact between the operations of the pure in- 
 tellect and the sense of beauty. The sense of 
 beauty is first. Partly sensuous, it acts without om- 
 bought, but finds gratification also in those deeper 
 relations of unity in the midst of variety which 
 science discovers, and goes with us, luring us on, 
 into the recesses and labyrinths of nature, and find- 
 ing a higher and purer delight as the sensuous ele- 
 ment is eliminated. We enjoy what we see of sjs- 
 
192 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tern as it appears superficially, but we seek some- 
 thing deeper in tlie knowledge of its law. All law 
 implies system. The discovery of a law is virtu- 
 ally the discovery of a system in those things that 
 come under the law, and the history of science is 
 little else than a history of the steps by which di- 
 versity has been brought into unity in the different 
 departments of nature and of study. It is just 
 this, the bringing of diversity into unity, that we 
 are now attempting to accomplish in relation to 
 man, and. if one method of study be the right one, 
 it must result in a system. 
 
 The right method of study is that of analysis 
 followed by synthesis. In studying a subject, or 
 thing, we examine it part by part. If we find, as 
 we have found in studying the body, that there 
 are parts that are themselves systems, we pursue 
 the same process till we reach that which, so fai 
 as we can see, has only the relation of a part. We 
 then study that as it is in itself and as it is related 
 to the other parts, and having done this with each 
 part we are prepared to put them together into 
 a whole which will thus become a system. We 
 may then pass from one related system to an- 
 other, each being a whole in itself, and yet a part 
 of a greater whole, till we gain such a knowledge 
 of the universe as one great system made up of 
 related parts, as our limited capacities may enable 
 us to reach. Adopting this metViod we place our 
 selves at the feet of Nature as learners, and if, 
 
SYSTEMIZATION. 193 
 
 mth cliild-lLli:e docility, we recognize as parts what 
 Bhe has made to be parts, and put them together 
 into those wholes which she has constituted, we 
 have a true science. We think the thoughts of 
 God. Our systems are the systems of Nature 
 and our minds are satisfied because there is a 
 natural correlation between the mind and Nature 
 rightly understood. j) 
 
LECTURE IX. 
 
 THE BKNSrBILITr. — A GOOD. — BEAUTY. — THE 
 LUDICKOUS. — THE AFFECTIVE KEASON. 
 
 HiTHESTO we have considered the Intellect. 
 We now pass to tne 
 
 8ENSIBn.rTY. 
 
 But in doing this we do not leave the Intellect be- 
 hind us. We take it with us. We combine it 
 with the Sensibility as its condition, and thus find 
 for it a new field, and get from both, as thus com- 
 bined, new products. 
 
 (The Sensibility includes._all that through which_^ 
 we either enjoy or suffer. Thus viewed it has j 
 two sources and forms. As physical beings we 
 have merely sensations, and the capacity for these 
 may be called a physical sensibility ; but as intel- 
 ligent I'eings we have a wide capacity of feeling 
 from what we perceive and know. We feel be- 
 cause we know ; and the Intellect thus becomes 
 the condition of all the higher forms of feeling. 
 The general statement is that each form of ouj ^ 
 a ctivity is accompanied by its own feehng ; and 
 that the character and rank of the feeling will b^ 
 as that of the susceptibility or power from which 
 comes. 
 
SENSATION AND PERCEPTION. 195 
 
 As having Intellect only you will remembei 
 that I represented man by a single vertical line. 
 To represent him as having both Intellect and 
 feeling we shall need two such lines united, thus ; 
 
 PsODUcns or thb IimujKrr 
 
 BBOUQHT rOKWAKD- 
 
 Let the line A represent Intellect as we have 
 considered it, and as now furnished, having intui- 
 tions, products of the outer and inner sense, asso- 
 ciated ideas, comparisons, reasonings, systems. 
 Let the line B represent the Sensibility, connect- 
 ed, as you see with the Intellect, but as yet im- 
 fumished. Let now this sensibility be awakened 
 by an object addressed to it as well as to the In- 
 tellect, and are there necessary products or results, 
 that, as necessary, belong to all men, and that 
 will be thrown back of the two lines, as the in- 
 tuitions were thrown back of the line represent- 
 ing Intellect ? I suppose there ai-e, and whatever 
 those products may be, you will observe that they 
 must have in them two elements, — [the Jatell^Qt^ftL 
 
 elsffient, ^ud^that ntifpeliTiS ^^' ^^ ^^ ^f ^^^^ 
 thing that can be designated either as an idea or 
 a feeling. This being premised, I may say that it 
 ^Yould be impossible for a person to have a senfli- 
 
196 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 I bility rightly constituted, and to perceive an o\y^ 
 j ject adapted to it, without knowing the object aa v 
 ^ good, and -w-ithout having an idea of the enjoy- I 
 I ment produced by it as A GOOD. Thus, then, tj-^ 
 \ good, or the good, I regard as the fundamental 
 idea whiclTis gi%'en by a sensibility, given to all 
 men, given necessarily, and TioTcIing a relation to 
 tnose processes which are connected with Intel- 
 lect and Sensibility combined, similar to that held 
 by the idea of Being in the processes of Intellect 
 alone. You can have no thoughtof ^ which the, 
 idea of Being i3 not an element, and, the Sensibility 
 being given, you can have no formof activity that 
 is normal throughout, of which good is not ande- 
 ment, _ . Of course a sensibility is capable of work- 
 ing both ways, perhaps necessarily. As a fact, I 
 think that beings with a sensibility m any form 
 are capaile^of_su|[ejcing just in proportion as they 
 are capable of enjoyment. But their suffering is 
 not necessary ; it is not that which a sensibility 
 was constituted to give, and therefore we say that 
 the producL-Of ^^sensibility is a good. This may 
 be either from the action upon our organization ^f, 
 those surroundings which God has so wonderfully 
 correlated to it ; or from our independent activity ; 
 or from the interaction of o ur mi nda with other 
 minds ; or, which is highestjof all, from such spir 
 Ltual revelations as God can make of Himself di- 
 rectly, and not through his works. In each case 
 we have the same fundamental idea extending it> 
 
A GOOD ^VND GOO£NESS. 197 
 
 lelf throu gh all the operatiQ,na of. thn.SeJAalMIitys 
 but difEering constantly both in quantity and in 
 quahty with the faculties exercised, and the objects 
 upon which they are exercised. Always, however 
 induced, there is an activity of our own from which 
 the enjoyment is the immediate outcome as the 
 fragrance is from the flower. 
 
 To this word, good^ I ask attention, because of 
 the different senses in which it is used, and be- 
 cause we can never speak or write understandingly 
 on morals till its meanmg shall be fixed. It is, I 
 suppose, conceded by all, that enjoyment, and all 
 enjoyment, is from the Sensibility ; and that en- 
 joyment is a good. Is there anything that is a 
 good that is not from the Sensibihty? All feeling, 
 you will observe, has its origin in the Sensibility. 
 We think, and we will, and act. Resulting from 
 each of these forms of activity there is f eehng. Is 
 that feeling from the Sensibility ? So I suppose. 
 If not, it would not be the Sensibihty. But if it ia 
 from the Sensibihty, then I inquire whether there ia 
 anything that can be called a good that is not from 
 that. Suppose all beings as insensible as a stone, 
 could there be anything that would be either good, 
 or a good? There are now many things adapted 
 to produce enjoyment in the Sensibility, and these 
 are good. There are also persons who devote 
 themselves to the promotion of enjoyment in ita 
 highest forms, and to its greatest possible extent 
 oy putting forth themselves, and leading others 
 
198 AN OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 to put forth, the highest possible forms of activity 
 and these are also good. They have goodness, but 
 if there were no enjoyment or satisfaction possi- 
 ble in any sensibility that could become a good, 
 there could be nothing good ; and there could be no 
 goodness. There could be no obligation to choose 
 in one way rather than in another, and t here could 
 be nothing right or wrong. You will see, there- 
 fore, that that coinBmation or fusion of Intellect 
 and Sensibility from which we get the rational idea 
 of a good as something valuable in itself is not only 
 essential as a motive to rational action, but also aa 
 a condition for the very formation of moral ideas ; 
 and it is to that that I think the word good, used 
 as a noun, should be confined. But instead of this, 
 you will find the word constantly used in discussions 
 on morals for goodness. It is not perhaps strange, 
 since we speak so constantly of a good man to in- 
 dicate a state of the will^ that we should speak of 
 the state itself as the good ; but a state of the Will 
 is one thing, and a state of the Sensibility entirely 
 another. In the one we have moriil quality; in 
 the other not, and hence the need of terms that 
 will discriminate them perfectly. "We will then 
 call the normal state of the Will goodness ; and the 
 normal state. jiLjthe, .Sensibility from any form of 
 activity a good ; and this we place on the left hand 
 side of the two lines as the first of our regulative 
 ideas in this department, and one that must be a 
 condition for any others. 
 
BEAUTY. 199 
 
 What other neoesbary and univeraal idea have 
 we in the same way ? Suppose a person with fur- 
 nished intellect and endowed with sensibility, to 
 see for the first time a rainbow. I ask you if it 
 would be possible that he should not have the 
 idea of 
 
 BEAUTY. 
 
 I say the idea, but might also say the feeling, 
 for we use one word as freely as the other, thus 
 testifying to the complex nature and double origin 
 of the product. It is this complex nature and 
 double origin that has caused difficulty in the dis- 
 cussion of beauty. Is Beauty a feeling ? So say 
 some. Is it an idea ? So say some. Is it both 
 united and yet really one thing, the product of a 
 mental chemistry to be known and treated as one 
 thing, as water isT So say others, and with them 
 I agree. We shall find that there is quite a num- 
 ber of these products the nature and function of 
 which we can understand only as we know their 
 origin. Thus with Beauty. Has it an element of 
 feeling ? That must be in the mind, and can be 
 only what it is felt to be. There can be no feeling 
 nor anything resembling a feeling in an external 
 .bject. So far, therefore, beauty must be. subr 
 ^ective. It wiU be like an odor, the intellectual 
 fragrance of the beautiful object. But, again, ia 
 Beauty an idea ? Then it must be from qualities in 
 the object apprehended by the intellect, and so far 
 as Beauty is from those qualities in the object which 
 
200 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 originate tlie idea, or rather is those qualities, it is 
 objective. And as we give the name sometimes to 
 that LQ the object which produces the feeling, and 
 sometimes to the feeling, and oftener make no dis- 
 tinction between the two, it is easy to see how dis- 
 putants may use the same word and be thinking of 
 different things, or, at least, of different aspects of 
 the same thing, and thus seem to differ when they 
 really agree. 
 
 This view of the origin and nature of Beauty will 
 enable us to solve the speculative difficulties re- 
 specting it, and it ^vill only be left to inquire what 
 that is in the object which produces the feeling. 
 Upon this we shall not enter. The feeling will 
 vary with its object, from the sligl^test impression 
 of mere sensuous beauty, up to it^ more complex 
 and highest forms, till indeed it^passes into sublim- 
 ity, which some regard as a separate element and 
 idea, but which is so far of the same kind that we 
 need not treat of it separately here. 
 
 From what has now been said, we feel authorized 
 to put down Beauty as the second joint necessary 
 product of the Intellect and the Sensibility. 
 
 What next ! There is another part of our na- 
 ture, somewhat extensive and varied, for which no 
 one word will suffice, but which may perhaps be 
 indicated aa well as in any way, by the word liudi- 
 croiis, or 
 
THE LUDICROUS. 201 
 
 THE LXJDICEOUS. 
 
 This gives us a field of the lighter emotiona 
 awakened by a perception of some form of incon- 
 gruity, or of some unexpected and sportive com- 
 bination, — 
 
 " Smiles from reason flow, 
 To brutes denied." 
 
 So says Milton, and I think he was right. Brutes 
 are sportive, but I know of no evidence that they 
 have that combined apprehension and feeling, 
 which go to make up either the ludicrous, the ridic- 
 ulous, or the witty. Clearly we have here again 
 both the idea and the feehng combined into one 
 product.^ 
 
 This field of the Ludicrous we are not called 
 upon to enter. It is legitimate. . It is right in its 
 place, and runs out into many forms of humor, fun, 
 and drollery. I will simply say before leaving it, 
 that I do not agree with those writers who hold that 
 laughter aways has in it an element of contempt. 
 I think it often an expression of mere memment, 
 and in the purest good nature. 
 
 We put down, then, back of the two lines, and as 
 our third regulative idea in this department, the 
 Ludiijroiis. Is there any other idea to be placed 
 there ? I thinl?: not ; and it only remains to in- 
 quire what we shall call the faculty or power which 
 gives us these ideas. Sir William Hamilton 
 speaks particularly of the defici ency of ou r nomen- 
 clature in this department,_and[ it is to be regret- 
 
202 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 ted. This power — for it is not properly a faculty 
 as not subject to the will — has no name, but it 
 needs one. In its independence of the Will, and 
 hence in its universality and necessity, it resembles 
 what we called " The Reason," when we were con- 
 sidering the Intellect alone. It differs from it only 
 as it acts with the Sensibility, and so has in the 
 product an element from that. What we need, 
 therefore, is the right qualifying word to indicate 
 that. But there is no such word. The only one 
 I can think of that will do at all, is Affective. If 
 we adopt that, we shall call it the Affective Reason, 
 meaning by that a reason whose product has the 
 power of affecting us as a motive, which the ideas 
 of the pure reason have not. This is a real dis- 
 tinction ; it is one that needs to be made, and the 
 word is not a bad one. But not accepting this, 
 we may either take a name from one of the minor 
 functions of the power, and call it the ^Esthetic 
 Reason, or let it go without a name. I will put 
 the two names down under the products we have 
 considered, and you may choose for yourselves. 
 
 In connection with the fundamental idea of Good 
 the Sensibility assumes different forms, which we 
 now proceed to consider. Of these the first and 
 lowest is Appetite, or 
 
 THE APPETITES. ^ 
 
 These, together with the other fcriiiS of ths Sen. 
 Bibilit^- that will be considered in this Lecture, 
 
THE APPETITES. 203 
 
 were treated of by me in this place eleven years 
 H-go ; and what 1 then said was published in the 
 ** Lectures on Moral Science." We may therefore 
 treat them the more briefly. 
 
 The Appetites are th ose c ravings of the animal^ 
 na ture tha t have for their object the well-bejng 
 of the body, and the continuance of the race. As 
 the means of sustaining and contmuing the race, 
 they are the condition of all other forms of the 
 Sensibility, and so are lower than they. Their 
 characteristics are that they take their rise from 
 the body, are periodical, and have a physical limit ; 
 and any craving that has these characteristics may 
 properly be called an appetite. 
 
 The Appetites commonly mentioned are those of 
 Hungfil, T hirst , and Sex^ But according to what 
 has just been said, the periodical craving for sleep 
 and for air may rank here. If the intervals of 
 breathing were such as to create a conscious de- 
 sire for air and an effort to obtain it, no doubt the 
 craving would be ranked among the Appetites. 
 And so, if we would know how many appetites 
 there aie, we must inquire how many things there 
 are generieally that are necessary for the well' 
 being of the body, and we may be sure there will 
 be within the body a craving for those things. 
 We may give them one name, or different names, 
 but they are really one thing, the manifestation 
 in different forms of one principle, that is, a crav- 
 ing, or going out in all directions after such things 
 OS are needed for the well-being of the body. 
 
204 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Afl the Appetites have the^ Jo west place in on 
 sensitive organization, it is naturaT that any abuse' 
 of them should i)B xioncealed ; and hence while the 
 corruption and degradation through them are so 
 fearful and extensive, they are, for the most part, 
 covered up. They are so until human beings be- 
 come lost to shame, for shame is the principle 
 placed in our constitution to guard against what 
 is low and mean, as conscience is to guard against 
 what is wrong. 
 
 In their natural state, witjiout artificial stimu^ 
 lants, and with a regular and adequate supply of 
 food, the Appetites are self regulating, and when 
 they are thus left to themselves, or are in any 
 way properly regulated, man is not degraded by 
 them. Let a man eat that he may live and do his 
 proper work, and he is a man ; but let him live 
 that he may eat, or give himself up to any form 
 of sensual or merely sensitive gratification, and ho 
 is degraded ; his face is towards Egypt and its 
 flesh-pots to the neglect of the pillar of cloud 
 and of fire, and of the promised land. 
 
 But there are artificial appetites^ well as those 
 that are natural. These have all the character- 
 istics of an appetite except its beneficial effects. 
 They often bring men into a bondage more abso- 
 lute and degrading than that from any natural 
 appetite ; but as they do not belong necessarily tc 
 the constitution, they need not be treated of here, 
 [ will only observe that the strong probability is^ 
 
INSTINCT. 205 
 
 fchat God gave man originally as many appetites 
 as it was best he should have ; and that I do not 
 believe that any man ever gained anything on the 
 whole by creating an artificial appetite. I believe 
 that purer and more lasting physical enjoyment will 
 come from the natural appetites alone, if properly 
 regulated, and that the system will be better fitted 
 through them to minister to those higher functions 
 and enjoyments of the intellect and the heart that 
 belong specifically to man. 
 
 Appetite is a craving ; but how shall it know 
 where to find its object? The young calf craves 
 food, but how shall it know where to finc^ it ? 
 Here comes in / 
 
 INSTINCT. 
 
 This is needed where it is impossible that Intel- 
 lect should act. The A^i£etite_.cr.aYe.Sj Ii istinct 
 duvets. The Appetitejs_presentative, the lastiact 
 is regulative*- Instinct is a kind of unintelligent, 
 affective reason, as that has just been defined. It 
 directs to ends, but presupposes that means and 
 conditions are supplied by an intelligence out of 
 itself, and if. these are wanting it knows nothing 
 of the mode of supplying them. It forecasts the 
 seasons, and proceeds on the widest knowledge of 
 the laws of nature and of the order of events. It 
 knows the fact of the law of gravitation, and the 
 doctrine of specific gravities. The setting hen turns 
 over her eggs regularly by ruffling them, because 
 
206 AN OUTLINE STtJDT OF MAN. 
 
 she knows that the specific gravity of the yolk 
 Lb greater than that of the white, and that if the 
 yolk should touch the shell at the bottom, it would 
 prevent the growth of the chick. That is a thing 
 that men did not find ouf- for thousands of years. 
 Hens knew it always. But then the hen does not 
 know a glass egg from a real one ; she does not 
 know a duck's egg from one of her own, and iu 
 utterly bewildered when the young ducks, guided 
 by an instinct which tells them that they have 
 webbed feet, run at once into the water. Instinct 
 assumes a given condition of things, which noth- 
 ing but intelligence, and I may say a Divine In- 
 telligence, could arrange. Let that condition exist, 
 and nothing can be more admirable and perfect 
 than its movements and their results ; but change 
 the condition and it is wholly baffled. The pro- 
 pensity works on, but works in the dark. A 
 beaver, caught and confined in a room, will gnaw 
 any wood it can find and make a dam of it where 
 there is no water. That is instinct. When it is 
 perfect i^ has no power to profit by experience, or 
 to modify conditions. In that case Instinct is at 
 its maximum, and Intelligence at its minimum ; 
 but as we rise in the scale intelligence increases 
 until we come to man, and in him intelligence ia 
 it its maximum, and instinct at its minimum. 
 This relation of Instinct to Intelligence, was, I un 
 derstand, put upon the board by President Chad 
 bourne in his Lectures here two years since on Itt 
 stinct, in this way : — 
 
THE DESreES. 207 
 
 Let the lower triangle represent Instinct, and the 
 upper one Intelligence, and it will be seen that as 
 we go upward Instinct diminishes, and Intelli- 
 gence increases, until Instinct has come to a point, 
 and Intelligence has reached its maximum. 
 
 It is to be said, however, that we never reach a 
 point where Instinct is wholly absent. In going 
 up, according to the system we are working out, 
 we leave nothing behind, and so we carry Instinct 
 with us, or something of the same nature, all the 
 way up. The principle of Instinct is involved in 
 aU involuntary tendency towards an end; and 
 when it is unperverted man may rationally com- 
 mit himself to its guidance. An intelligent, or 
 rather, a rational being, having an instinct, knows 
 that instinct to be what it is, and knowing that, 
 he may rationally, and most wisely, commit him- 
 self to its guidance. 
 
 We now pass to 
 
 THE DESIKES. 
 
 These have, the same relation to the well-being 
 of the mind that the appetites have to thatof the 
 body. If we would know how many appetites 
 there are, we must inquire how many things differ- 
 ing generically there are that are needed for the 
 well-being of the body, and we may be sure there 
 
\ 
 
 1^08 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 will be within the body an instinctive craving for 
 those things. We may give them one name or 
 different names, but there is really one principle, 
 that is, a craving or going out in all directions for 
 that which is needed for the well-being of the 
 body. So it is with the Desires. They are cravin gs 
 for those things which are- jiecessarv for the uft 
 puilding of a perfect mind. What then are those 
 things which it is necessary our minds should have 
 that they may become, and continue to be, what 
 they are capable of being ? 
 
 In the first place, if we are to be or to do any- 
 thing, it is necessary that we should continue to 
 exist. We put down, then, as the first and lowest 
 of the Desires, that of 
 
 CONTINUED EXISTENCE. 
 
 Continuing to exist, we shall need to have, and 
 to hold in our possession, that winch, will enable 
 ns to enjoy our existence. This gives us 
 
 THE DESIKE OF PROPERTY. 
 
 Existing, and having that which will enable 
 Him to enjoy existence, man needs to know how 
 bo use himself and it. Hence he has 
 
 THE DESIRE OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 This desire has, however, wider relations thax 
 would be thus indicated. Knowledge is the con 
 dition of all rational action, and oF all the higher 
 motions. 
 
DESIRE OF POWER AND ESTEEM. 209 
 
 Existing, possessing, knowing, man is also ca- 
 pable of doing many things, and of becoming 
 what he is not. This implies the power of doing 
 and becoming. It evidently belongs to the per- 
 fection of our nature that we should have power^ 
 and hence we set down as next in order 
 
 THE DESI RE O F POWER. 
 
 The desires already mentioned are requisite to 
 the perfection of the individual. But man is 
 placed in relation to his fellows, and he needs some 
 desire that will make him instrumental in the 
 promotion of their well-being, and the perfection 
 of society. Hence he needs, and has, 
 
 THE DESIRE OF ESTEEM. 
 
 These five seem to me to be the original and 
 primary desires. The words indicating them are 
 put in their general form, as Property, for instance. 
 What is property ? It may be farms, houses, bank 
 stock, money. The term simply groups in a class 
 all those things with reference to ejich of which the 
 desire acts specifically ; and I suppose that these 
 are original desires and act immediately and nee 
 essarily on the presentation of their objects. 
 
 But besides the desires just mentioned, there 
 are those who contend that we have a desire of 
 Happiness, of Liberty, and of Society. 
 
 What has been termed the desire of Happiness, 
 I prefer to speak of as 
 
 u 
 
210 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN 
 
 THE DESIRE OF GOOD. 
 
 This term I prefer, because it includes in the 
 minds of all, as the term happiness does not, all 
 the normal products of the Sensibility; an.l it ia 
 of all those products that we are now speaking. 
 The normal product of the Sensibility in any of 
 its forms ia a good, and is desirable in itself ; but 
 with many the term Happiness is contrasted with 
 pleasure, and does not include the good that cornea 
 through the sensitive organization. The term 
 also represents to most minds a permanent state in 
 which there is an aggregate of good, and a pre- 
 ponderance of it over suffering, whereas the root 
 of desire, its generic element, is found in the in- 
 herent desirableness of every normal product of 
 the Sensibility. We here reach, as in the Intel- 
 lect, a simple and primitive element. Thoug^jU— 
 the product of the Intellect, is essentially, intelli- 
 gent. The Intellect is inherently and natively a 
 Knower, and knows itself as such. In the same 
 way the normal .product of the Sensibility is essen- 
 tially desirable. Inherently and natively the Jtea- 
 sibility is a giver of good, which is immediately 
 and necessarily known as a good, and so as desi- 
 rable. 
 
 But admitting what nas now been said, ought 
 not the desire of Good to be placed among the 
 original and primitive desires? Does not every 
 on© desire good? Yes, butJ^Le_^culiaTity, ia 
 
THE DESmE OF GOOD. 211 
 
 that no one can will to seek good 4irectly. The 
 mecLanism of the constitution is that we have 
 specific desires for individual things with refer- 
 ence to which we can put forth specific acts of 
 choice and volition, and that on the attaiament 
 of these things good comes spontaneously. We 
 desire immediately, and choose and take the 
 bread; its sweetness and nourishment come of 
 their own accord. As I have said elsewhere, the 
 good " does not li e prox imate to the will." It is 
 the common result of alTlofms" of activity when 
 objects directly chosen are attained. Entering 
 thus as the common element into all the desires, 
 it cannot be classed as in the same rank with any 
 one of them. It has, indeed, the same relation to 
 all specific forms of desire that consciousness haa 
 to all the other mental operations. It is some- 
 thing different from any one of them ; it is com- 
 mon to them all, and is that without which no one 
 of them could be. 
 
 We conclude, then, that it would not be phil- 
 osophical to class the desire of Good, or, if any 
 choose to call it so, of Happiness, with those spe- 
 cific desires, by the objects of which the WiU is 
 directly called into action. 
 
 In connection with the view now presented, it 
 may be well to notice the provision made in the 
 constitution for activity as the condition of enjoy- 
 ment. In_ strictness all enjoyment is from activ- 
 jty^bnt it differs as the activity is ori^nated from 
 
212 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 without or from within. Eivjojinent from activity 
 originating from without, is sometimes called ^as- 
 81 ve enjoyment and pleasure, and it is not as high 
 as that from activity originated from within. The 
 highest enjoyment is an involuntary result of jacs 
 tivity originating from within, coming from it aa 
 the fragrance from the flower ; and the higher the 
 faculties brought into action, and the more in- 
 tense the activity, if it be normal, the higher 
 will be the enjoyment. In no other way is there 
 enjoyment to 
 
 " The rapt seraph that adores and bums." 
 
 C The highest results, either for himself or others, 
 1 can be reached by man only through intelligent 
 "faction originating from within. 
 V And what is true of Good as a condition of De- 
 BLbe, is true of 
 
 THE DESIEE OP LIBERTY, 
 
 as a condition of action. By Liberty here is not 
 meant that Hberty of choice without which there 
 lannot be a will in freedom, but .,t]ie,iiberty _ to 
 carry out our choices in action. A man in prison 
 has, as a man, all the liberty of choice, and all 
 the elements and conditions of freedom under a 
 moral government that are possible, but he has 
 not liberty of action. Of beings born with 
 powers of whatever kind, it is to be said that 
 they are not so much bom with a desire of free- 
 dom, as that they are bom free, and naturally 
 
THE DESIRE OF SOCIETY. 213 
 
 itruggle against whatever would limit their legit- 
 imate action. To be born with that which may 
 be taken away, and will then be desired as the 
 condition of obtaining other things, is wholly dif- 
 ferent from being bom with a desire of that 
 which is to be attained. Like that of good, the 
 first will be a general and constant element, and 
 cannot be properly classed with the specific de- 
 sires. 
 
 It only remains to speak of 
 
 THE DESIRE OF SOCIETY. 
 
 All the writers place this among the original 
 desii'es, and perhaps rightly. I have no zeal 
 about it. There certainly is a gregarious instinct 
 among animals, and perhaps among men, but so- 
 ciety is so far something that we are bom into, 
 and a condition for the gratification of other de- 
 sires, and for the exercise of the affections and 
 higher faculties, that I rather prefer to place it 
 with the desire of good and of liberty, and to 
 write it down so as to show that it enters as an 
 element into the operation of other faculties. 
 
 The place I give to these three desires — that 
 of Good, of Liberty, and of Society — does not 
 disparage them. It makes them more funda- 
 mental as pertaining more fully to our nature, as 
 entering more deeply into its operations, and as 
 involved in everything that is dearest to us. 
 
 Of the Desires in general it is to be said, that 
 
214 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 while they have reference to the good of the indi -^_ 
 vidua!, they are not selfish. They may become 
 BO, or they may be exercised in the interest of 
 benevolence. How is a man to be effectively 
 benevolent unless he has property, or power, or 
 knowledge, or esteem ? He has power to do good 
 precisely as he possesses these, and in gaining 
 them through the active operation of the natural 
 desires, he may be acting benevolently. It is a 
 misapprehension to suppose, when a man is seek- 
 ing to build himself up in these things, that he is 
 necessarily acting selfishly. He may be seeking 
 to build himself up in that nature which God has 
 given him, and which he is under obligation to 
 perfect, and, as an instrument of good, to make as 
 ejQQcient as possible. The man who can gain the 
 power to wield a great assembly for good, to put 
 down oppression, to sit as a judge and direct the 
 judicial sentiment of the community, is in fault 
 if he does not do it. 
 
 But, while the Desires are not necessarily selfish, 
 they tend in that direction, and we are to be on 
 our guard against the law by which they act. 
 
 The Appetites have a physical limit, which 
 operates as a kmd of bodily conscience, biitlf^ir 
 man puts kunself under the control oT~one of Iha 
 desires there is nothing of the kind. On the coi>r 
 trary, if a man puts himseli under-^eer of these 
 desires, as that of propi^rty, it will grow by be- 
 ing indulged, titT' lie becomes absorbed and ^oi* 
 
THE NATURAL AFFECTIONS. 215 
 
 B layed by it. He may say that he cares nothing 
 for property except for its use, — and perhaps he 
 does not at the time ; that he will go on getting 
 it up to a cei-tain point and then devote it to a 
 given use ; but as he goes on and accumulates he 
 holds on to it with a firmer grasp, and when he 
 has the ability to do what he thought he would, he 
 has lost the disposition, and perhaps even becomes 
 miserly. So is it with all the desires, and there- 
 fore, as I have said, we are to be on our guard 
 respecting them. 
 
 The Appetites and the Desires have reference 
 to self and its "well-being ; but we need, in addi- 
 tion to the desire of^esteem, a form of the Sensi- 
 bility which will bring us into relation to others 
 as also capable of well-being, and this we find in 
 
 THE NATURAL AFFECTIONS. 
 These are wholly different in their nature from 
 the Desires. As Affections they do not appropri- 
 ate an}i:hing ; they^give. At the same time they 
 contain in themselves an element of desire, so that 
 the Desires are a condition for the Affections. This 
 is so, because if there be an intelligent affection 
 for any being, or, indeed, an affection of any kind, 
 there must be a desire for the well-being of that 
 oeing. Hence the Affection s are c onditioned on 
 the Desires^ They take that desire of good for 
 ourselves through which we come to estimate good 
 
21G AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 rightly, ami make it the basis of a feeling towards 
 others by which their good becomes our immediate 
 object, BO that we are able to love them as nur- 
 Belves. This is true of the affections in general, 
 whether natural or moral, so far, at least, as there 
 can be said to be love in natural affection. Tlie y 
 haYe the good of others for their direct object. 
 
 The Natural Affections differ from tha moraL 
 in manifesting themselves spontaneously and Yrfth 
 po reference to any previous action of the Will ; 
 whereas the MoraL Affections 4epeud.^.bQllL_fQr__. 
 their being and character, upon the previous ac; 
 tion of the Will. Indirectly, and aftej* they hajQ_ 
 revealed themselves as independent facta in our 
 constitution, the Will may have power over the 
 Natural Affections. They may be indulged and 
 cultivated, or they may be repressed and dwarfed. 
 Hence want of^ natur al affection may become, as 
 it is made in the Scriptures to be, an evidence of 
 moral depravity. These affections are common to 
 both animals and man. Rising spontaneously, 
 they prompt both to do what they can for the 
 good of those that are made naturally dependent 
 upon them. 
 
 The Natural Affections have generally been di- 
 vided into the benevolent and the malevolent. 
 These terms I do not accept, or, at least, I do not 
 think them happy. They imply the actioji of a 
 will fully constituted, whereas we have not yet 
 reached that. In the proper sense of those worda 
 
THE NATURAL AFFECTIONS. 217 
 
 I do not apprehend that an animal can be eithei 
 benevolent or malevolent. Where an animal, as 
 the parent bird, does good to another, it is from 
 no rational estimate and choice of the good as a 
 motive lying before it, and so as good willing, but 
 from a beneficent, spontaneous, constitutional im- 
 pulse, prompting from behind ; and so far as man 
 is governed by mere natural affection this ia 
 equally true of him. And while this is true oJ 
 the good done, it is equally true of the beast o1 
 prey that he has no malevolence towards his vic- 
 tim. He does not hate him ; he simply wishes to 
 eat him. What, then, shall we call these affec- 
 tions ? Those which lead to the doing of good I 
 would call beneficent. They are so ; just that, 
 and nothing more. Whether in animals or in 
 man, there is no benevolence about them. 
 
 The beneficent affections, as thus defined, in- 
 clude a wide range, and play an important part in 
 both animal and human life. They^ correspond 
 throughout to those natural relations, as of parent 
 and offspring, through which there is mutual de- 
 pendence, and on which life in communities must 
 depend. 
 
 But, calling those affections beneficent which 
 have for their object the production of good, what 
 ^hall we call their opposite? They have been 
 .ailed '* malevolent," but there is in them properly 
 no will. They are from a tendency, a mechanism, 
 a nature. They are a part of an original consti- 
 
218 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tution, and have for their object, not the produc- 
 tion of misery as such, but the well-being of the 
 individual, or of the community of which the indi- 
 vidual is a part. It is here that our nomenclature 
 is most deficient. We need some word to indicate 
 that inherent something in everything that has 
 life by which it asserts itself, and its right to be, 
 in the full exercise of its legitimate powers, and 
 this, if need be, to the destruction of that which 
 opposes itself to it. Up to this point we might, 
 perhaps, call the affection J)efensive, but it often 
 goes further. While there can be, in this region, 
 no conception of punishment in its proper nature, 
 there is evidently something retributive. The 
 foundation for this, however, lies in the being, not 
 as malevolent, but as a guard against future evih 
 I would then call those Natural Affections which 
 are productive of evil to others, either simply De- 
 fensive, or Defensive and Punitive, This, like 
 Beneficent, would indicate their office in the con- 
 Btitution. There is no natural affection, either in 
 animals or in man, that has for its object the 
 production of evil for evil's sake. 
 
 A difficulty with us in treating of the Natural 
 Affections is from the tendency of the IMoral Affec- 
 tions to blend with them. This blending is in- 
 evitable, and hence the impossibility of our inter- 
 preting with certainty those actions in aniraala 
 which seem to correspond with our own In 
 judging of the characteristics of either men ot 
 
THZ: NATUBAL AFWCTIONS. 219 
 
 animals we need to know their natural affections, 
 as modified by their constitution, for individuals 
 of the same species differ greatly in regard to 
 these ; but in judging of character we need to 
 know the moral affections. 
 
 In connection with the different forms of the 
 Sensibility which we have considered, there nat- 
 urally arise the emotions of hope and fear, of joy 
 and sorrow. Indeed, desire and affection, with 
 the prospect that their object will be reached, 
 become hope ; with the prospect of failure, they 
 become fear. Attaining their ends, desire and 
 affection become joy ; failing of them, they be- 
 come sorrow. Persons habitually anticipating 
 and hoping for the objects of desire and those 
 proposed by affection, are cheerful ; those habit- 
 ually anticipating the reverse, fall into gloom and 
 settled despondency. " Hope deferred maketh the 
 heart sick ; but when the desire cometh it is a tree 
 of life." Thus do we find in the Sensibility the 
 source of our activity ; and thus do we see how 
 there spring up from within it, as Hope and Fear. 
 the two great and opposite gales of life. 
 
 We have thus finished what I propose to say on 
 this part of our nature. If we present it at one 
 view, in a diagram constructed according to the 
 principle we have adopted, it wiU stand thus 
 '^reading it from the bottom upward as we do 
 with all other diagrams) : — 
 
220 
 
 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAM 
 
 QQ 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 D 
 
 
 D 
 
 E-t 
 
 P 
 
 o 
 
 (4 
 
 HITXT&AL AJFEOTIONS 
 
 DESmSS: 
 
 f PUNITIVE. 
 DKFKNSITg, 
 BENEFICENT, 
 
 f ESTEEM. 
 POWER, 
 KNO^TLEDQE, 
 PROPERTY, 
 EXISTENCE 
 INSTINCT. THE INSTINCTS, 
 
 rOP SEX. 
 FOR SLEEP, 
 FOE AIB, 
 OF THIRST, 
 Of HXTNGEB. 
 
 APPETITSS 
 
 THE LUDICROUS. 
 
 BEAUTY, 
 
 GOOD, 
 
 AmCTITB OR .fiSTHETIO 
 REASON. 
 
 >* 
 
 >♦ 
 
 E^ 
 
 t4 
 
 H 
 
 H 
 
 pq 
 
 M 
 
 PQ 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 o 
 
 ^ 
 
 OQ 
 
 PRODUCTS OF INTBLLE01 
 BROUQHT UP TO BE THE 
 CONDITION OF THE ACTIV- 
 ITY OF THE SENSLBrLm 
 AND THE INTELLECT. 
 
 INTELLECT AND SENSIBILITY. 
 
LECTURE X. 
 
 larrELLEcrr, sensibility, and will.— the pbao- 
 
 TICAL REASON. — PERSONALITY, CAUSATION, 
 FREEDOM, OBLIGATION, MERIT AND DEMERIT, 
 RIGHTS, RESPONSIBILITY, PUNISHMENT. 
 
 We have not yet found Man. Unconsciously, 
 perhaps unavoidably, we have carried ourselves 
 back, and have supposed our whole selves to be 
 present in the different processes we have consid- 
 ered. Doing this, it^i s imposs ible for us to be 
 sure wh at the processes of a mere animal are, or 
 what the condition wo uld be -of -A being having 
 i ntellect only , or intellect combined with feehng. 
 These different departments can be conceived of, 
 and be considered separately, just as we can con- 
 ceive and treat separately of the sides and angles 
 of a triangle, but so great is their unity that one 
 seldom if ever acts without the other. The- ^lo ■ 
 ments ^e so blended that it is difficult to analyze 
 them ; and besides, what mankind generally care, 
 for. is the result, and not the elements or combina- 
 tion by which it is produced. 
 
 Thus far we have considered the body, and the 
 two lower divisions of the mind, the Int©U«ct and 
 the Sensibil ity. These are indispensable c pndL- 
 tions for the being and action of 
 
222 
 
 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAK. 
 
 THE RATIONAL WILL. 
 
 Without the Intellect there ia no light, without 
 the Sensibility there is no motive. As distinguished 
 from nierejm^ulse, rational will involves rational 
 choice ; but without the Intellect there -Can. be no 
 rationality^ and without the Sensibility there can be 
 nothing t o ch ooflft. With these we have all that 
 we need, not as a cause, but as a condition for the 
 Will. 
 
 As possessed of Intellect alone, we have repre- 
 sented man by one line ; as possessed of Intellect 
 and Sensibility we have represented him by two 
 lines united, and we now represent him as pos- 
 sessed of Intellect, SensibiHty, and Will, by three 
 lines united, thus, — 
 
 Before the Intellect, which stands in front, we 
 bring up, and suppose to be present, the various 
 products of the Intellect and the Sensibility in 
 their combination. These the Intellect apprehends. 
 By thorn, as thus apprehended, the Sensibility ia 
 
THE WILL. 223 
 
 a-ffected, and theu the Will acts in view of the op- 
 erations of both the Intellect and the Sensibility. 
 Objects presented to the senses — objects of Appe- 
 tite, of Desire, and of the Affections — are supposed 
 to be presented before the man now fully consti- 
 tuted, and we inquire what new phenomena musty 
 and what mai/ result from the possession of Will. 
 
 But first what is Will ? By WiU, or the Will, 
 we do not mean anything that has a separate and 
 independent existence. We mean by it that con- 
 stituent of man's being by which he is capable of 
 free action, kno\ying himself to be thus capable ; 
 just as we mean by the Litellect, that constituent 
 of his being by which he is capable of thought, 
 knowing himself to be thus capable. If we would 
 understand the nature of Will we must go back 
 ^;0 the beginning of our course, and we shall find 
 that there is in it a synthesis of both of the great 
 elements which we have considered, and some- 
 thing added. We began, as you remember, with 
 gravitation, that is with force, — that mysterious 
 something which all classes of thinkers are obliged 
 to recognize and assume, but which nobody com- 
 prehends ; we began with that, acting necessarily, 
 and, so far as we can understand, by a physical 
 necessity. In the same way we knew aU the 
 physical and vital forces, — Cohesion, Chemical 
 Affinity, Vegetable Life, and Animal Life, as 
 necessitated. We next passed to the Intellect 
 and its different faculties, and what did we find 
 
224 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 there ? We found, in addition to force, the power 
 of insight and comprehension. And here again, 
 the movement was subject, if not to a physical, 
 yet to a logical necessity. In the Intellect, taken 
 by itself, there is no freedom. But _rational 
 choice, which is the fundamental, the vokmtary, 
 and moral part of the Will, is impossible without 
 comprehension ; and volition, which is the execu- 
 tive part of the Will, is futile and nugatory with- 
 out force. 
 
 Thus do these two, the power of choice and the 
 power of volition, become constituents of the wiU, 
 essential {)owers of a being acting rationally ; 
 and thus does the Will imply and involve the two 
 great elements of Intellect and Force. Intellect 
 it implies in connection with choice, for the pur- 
 pose of comprehension and rationality ; and Force 
 in connection with volition, for the purpose of ex- 
 ecution. We see then, at this point, distinctly, 
 the two elements of which Will is composed, the 
 power of choice and the power of volition, each of 
 which is essential to the being and the expression 
 of Personality, in which, in order to constitute 
 Will, the two must unite. Choice presupposes 
 both Intellect and Sensibility ; Sensibility and its 
 products to constitute ends, and Intellect to show 
 their relative value and the means of attaining 
 them. Volition presupposes force, or rather is 
 nugatory except in a being endowed with force. 
 
 These elements of Will, choice and volition, 
 
CHOICE AND VOUTION. 226 
 
 have not been distinguished as they should have 
 been, and in consequence, the discussions respect- 
 ing the Will have been perplexed. The cause 
 of the perplexity is that one of the elements is 
 subject to necessity. What we need to know is 
 the point of freedom. That is in choice, and in 
 that only. Choice b eing once fully made, volition 
 follows of course. It may iTbt follow at once : 
 
 "the choice may abide alone, but when the voli- 
 tion comes it is born of choice^ There will of 
 course, then, be a radical difference between the 
 idea of freedom as consisting in the power of 
 choice, and in the power to carry out our choices. 
 The one is absolute, and so belongs to us that to 
 be deprived of it we must be destroyed. The 
 other is contingent, and we can be deprived of it 
 by accident or disease, or by the will of others. 
 The one is the essential element of freedom man- 
 ifesting itself in the spiritual realm, and is the 
 immediate object of the divine government ; the 
 other simply instrumental and executive, and is 
 that of which human governments chiefly take 
 cognizance. 
 
 And in connection with these two elements of 
 Will, the one free and the other necessitated, we 
 may see the harmony there is between freedom 
 and necessity, and the need of necessity in ordei 
 to freedom. If the freedom is to result in re- 
 sponsibility, or is to avail anything with respect to 
 conduct, there must be in connection with it a sys- 
 u 
 
226 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tern of necessity. A man stands by a stream ol 
 water. He has the power to tm-u it in this direc 
 tion for the purpose of irrigation, or in that for the 
 purpose of destruction, and this power he has, with 
 the attendant responsibility, simply because the 
 stream is subject to invariable and necessary law. 
 If he could not control it by such a law, he could 
 not know what the consequences would be, and 
 would not be responsible for them. Hence the 
 region of freedom, to which we now come, is 
 wholly conditioned on the previous regions of ne- 
 cessity — physical, vital, and intellectual — through 
 which we have passed. 
 
 In connection with this conti'ol of force by the 
 Will, implying, as in itself, both force and causa- 
 tive energy, it is to be said that it is feom the Will 
 that we have the origin of our ideas of force aod 
 causation. It might be supposed that we should 
 know force and causation on simply beholding 
 physical changes. Not so. If we had not had 
 these ideas from our own causative energy, we 
 should have seen nothing in physical changes but 
 mere succession ; but, as inherent in mind, such 
 causative energy must reveal itself to mind as a 
 matter of course. Hence in knowing himself as 
 possessfid-of-mll,^..man must know himself as a 
 cause, and whenever he sees causation exerted in 
 connection with evidence of intelligence, he nat- 
 arally attributes it to mind. This is a cardinal 
 point, because the whole evidence for the presence 
 
A GREAT TRANSITION. 227 
 
 of mind in nature turns upon it. The order of 
 nature depends upon its changes, and if mind is 
 not the original cause of the changes then it is not 
 of its order, and so there is no proof in nature for 
 the being of a God. This is what Positivism says. 
 It says that we see nothing, and know nothing, 
 and can profitably speculate about nothing except 
 mere orders of succession. But this is virtually 
 atheism. We do know causation as belonging to 
 ourselves. We recognize intuitively the results of 
 intelligent causation, and from such results can 
 rationally infer their cause. 
 
 In thus reaching a Will in freedom, a rational 
 Will, we make a great transition. Points of tran- 
 sition we have reached before, but none equal to 
 this. Our progress upward has not been by a 
 continuous line but by steps bringing in new ele- 
 ments, and raising us on to a new platform. So 
 I have represented it in the figure. Gravitation 
 does not involve cohesion, or shade into it. Co- 
 hesion is a new thing brought in. So is chemical 
 affinity. So is vegetable life ; it is a thing wholly 
 new. All the way up there are points of transi- 
 tion in which we come to something absolutely 
 new ; but, as I have said, there is no point like 
 this. We here reach, not spontaneity, which is 
 wholly different from freedom, though sometimes 
 confounded with it ; but that which stands above 
 all spontaneity and watches over and controls it. 
 In adding the Will we find the man ; we constitute 
 
228 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 the Personality. Not that Will constitutes the 
 person, or is more essential to it than Rationality, 
 but that we do not get the person till we have In- 
 tellect, Sensibility, and WiU combined. Then we 
 have a Person. We then reach a responsible 
 cause that can intelligently choose between dif- 
 ferent results, and can cause those results to be 
 as it chooses. We reach therefore the region of 
 character, of obligation, of right and wrong, of 
 sanctities^ of the possibility of worship, and of 
 eternal life. 
 
 But it is one thing to constitute the mind in its 
 Personality, and another to furnish it. We saw 
 that by the addition of the Sensibility new mate- 
 rial was furnished for the Intellect, and so it is 
 here. By the addition of the Will new material 
 is furnished both for the Intellect and the Sensi- 
 bility. It is, indeed, in this way that we have 
 the highest and richest materials for both. These 
 materials, though we are in the region of freedom, 
 are given by necessity. They are the phenomena 
 tliat must be in consequence of the addition ol 
 Will, and we proceed to inquire what they are. 
 
 You will remember that when we represented 
 the Intellect by a single line we had certain things 
 presented in front, and then certain ideas which 
 originated from the Intellect by necessity, and 
 were thus the common inheritance of the race 
 such as time, space, etc., were thrown back of the 
 
PEBsoNALirr. 229 
 
 line. In the same way when we had the In- 
 tellect united with the Sensibility we had cei-tain 
 products thrown back which belong to all alike. 
 In respect to whatever is in front of the one line, 
 or the two lines, men differ indefinitely ; but in 
 respect to what is back of them they are alike. 
 And so it is here. When the three, Intellect, 
 Sensibility, and Will, act together we shall have 
 certain products, call them ideas, or feehngs, as 
 you please, that will be necessitated, and so, com- 
 mon to all. What are these products ? This is 
 a question of much interest. 
 
 The first product, and one conditional for all 
 others in this department, will, I suppose, be the 
 Idea of 
 
 PERSONALITY. 
 
 We have constituted the person, and now, as it 
 belongs to the Intellect to know itself as Intel- 
 lect, and to the Sensibility to reveal itself as Sen- 
 sibility, so it belongs to the very constitution of 
 a person that he should know his own Personality. 
 And just as the notion of being connects itself^ 
 and becomes interfused with, everything that fol- 
 lows it, and as the notion of a good connects itself 
 with everything that follows after we introduce 
 a Sensibility, so the notion-of .Peraonality will go 
 forward and upward and connect itself with every- 
 thing that shall follow. Though taking up into 
 itself BO many elements, and thus complex in its 
 
280 AN OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 origin, this idea of Personality presents itself aa 
 one thing. It is one, and it is recognized, and its 
 power is felt by every one, whether he has ever 
 heard of metaphysics or not. In the days of slav- 
 ery the question was whether you might sell a man. 
 We said a man was not a thing, he was a person, 
 and everybody knew there was a fundamental dif- 
 ference between the two. 
 
 It is, in my judgment, here, and next, that we 
 have the idea of power, and so of 
 
 CAUSATION. 
 
 Causati on implies antecedence, and the uniform 
 antecedence of the cause as related to the effect. 
 This antecedence is perceived by the Intellect,~aud 
 is supposed by Positivists to be all that we know 
 of causation. We suppose, however, that antece- 
 dence is merely incidental, a necessary relation 
 certainly, but not involving the essence of causa- 
 tion. We are causes. We exert force. We put 
 forth energy. We know ourselves as doing this. 
 We thus gain the idea of force and of causation, 
 and by necessity connect these with all perception 
 of change, whether physical or mental. We thus 
 have the original and necessary idea of cause, as 
 involving, not merely antecedence, but force ; and 
 the axiom which connects itself with it is, that 
 whatever begins to be must have a cause. 
 
 What is the next idea ? I suppose it to be one 
 of which I have already spoken, that '^f 
 
FBEEDOM. 281 
 
 FREEDOM. 
 
 There is no personality where there is no free- 
 dom ; and without the idea of freedom there is no 
 possible conception of a will with any apprehen- 
 sfon of what a will is. As we have seen, this 
 idea of freedom belongs to that element of the 
 will which we have called choice, or the power of 
 choice. In that is the freedom, known as such at 
 once or not known at all, given as a simple in- 
 eradicable element of our conscious life. Let the 
 opportunity, or, it may be, the necessity, — for, 
 paradoxical as it may seem, man is under the ne- 
 cessity of acting freely, — let the opportunity or 
 the necessity of choice between two different 
 kinds of good be presented, and the idea of free- 
 dom at once and necessarily emerges. Let, for 
 instance, a man be required to choose between 
 property and integrity, and he knows by neces- 
 sity, and with a conviction which nothing can 
 strengthen, and which nothing can shake, that he 
 is free to choose either. The discussions about 
 the freedom of the will have been endless, but 
 nothing has ever shaken the conviction of the race 
 in regard to the elementary idea of freedom as in- 
 volved in choice. Practically tl ^is id ea of freedom 
 is at the basis of all obligation, and of all respon- 
 sibility, neither of which can be conceived of with- 
 out it. 
 
 After causation and freedom we have the two 
 
232 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 fundamental and correlative ideas of J tights and 
 Obligation. Of these, Obligation has been placed 
 first in former editions both in the text and on the 
 chart. I now think that Rights should be placed 
 firat, and that they should be brought together. 
 The change is accordingly made. 
 
 EIGHTS. 
 
 This is a separate, . independent, and original 
 idea, and is founded on good. In connection with 
 our own good we have a right to things ; and in 
 connection with the good of others we have rights 
 over them. 
 
 When a man has procured by his labor an ob 
 ject of one of the natural desires and another 
 would take it from him, the idea of a Right is im- 
 mediately and necessarily given. Its relation to 
 Obligation__is that obligation is its correlative. If 
 a man has a right to anything, others are under 
 obligation not to interfere with that right. In this 
 way every natural principle of action has its cor- 
 responding right, and its reciprocal obligation. 
 
 Again, from relations independent of our will, 
 the good of some beings can be secured only by 
 the power, and care, and guidance of others. Thia 
 gives the right of authority on the one part, with 
 the corresponding obligation of obedience on the 
 other. There is also an obligation on the part of 
 the superior, first, tq_exercise authority ; and sec- 
 ond, to exercise it within the limits required by 
 
OBLIGATION. 233 
 
 the good of those governed, regarded both as indi 
 viduals and^ a^s a community. 
 
 Having, then, a Person, who is a cause, and a 
 free cause, the next idea will be that of 
 
 OBLIGATION. "^ 
 
 Here, as in good and in beauty, V® have a sin- j 
 ^gle product resulting from the action of raorer 
 I than one power, j Obligation is, in the first in- 
 stance, obligation to choose, and, whether regard c'd 
 as an idea, or a feeUng, or both, i s cond itioned oi'. 
 the presentation, through bpth_the_Iiitfillect and 
 the Sensibility, of two obj.efita.£!f_£hoice, generally 
 different kinds of _good, between w hich we ar« 
 necessitate d to choose .^ 
 
 This"necessity of choice we are to notice. I 
 have before spoken of the necessity of thought. 
 We may think of one thing and not of another, 
 but think we must. And so it is here. We may 
 choo se one t hing and not jLnother, but choose w© 
 •nust. A continual state of choice is as much a 
 condition of our lives, at least in our waking 
 hours, as continual thought. Is it said that of 
 two objects presented we may choose neither? 
 True, but the refusal to choose is itself an act of 
 choice. It is the preference of something else as 
 more desirable than either. Besides, in most 
 cjases, the conditions of xife are such that an alter- 
 native is unavoidable. We must either eat, or go 
 ^ See Appendix. 
 
234 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 hungn'. We must study, or remain ignorant 
 We irust labor, or fail to enjoy the fruit of labor. 
 Tins being understood, it is to be observed that 
 the necessity -oi obligation is as abjsolute-as th© 
 necessity. .-of-choice. Obligation is ^ moral phe- 
 nomenon, and the spontaneous presence of it on 
 ^ven conditions is a revelation of the moral nat- 
 ure, as the spontaneous presence of thought on 
 given conditions is a revelation of the intellectual 
 nature; for wherever there is a necessary result on 
 given condilions there is a na ture , and that nature 
 can be known and judged of only by such result. 
 
 We have, then, the necessity of choice of some 
 kind always present ; and the necessity of obliga- 
 tion on certain conditions. What are those con- 
 ditions ? As has been said, they are the presen- 
 tation of two or more objects of choice that differ 
 in the quantity or the quality of the good sup- 
 posed to be ic them, and that can be either gained 
 for ourselves, or conferred upon others. Let us 
 suppose then that a choice is to be made between 
 ^ two forms of good as presented in two different 
 s » objects or ends, and that one of them is seen to be 
 higher in kind and more valuable than the other. 
 ^ I ask whether it is conceivable that a man with 
 ^ -^^ facidties unperverted should not feel under obli- 
 ) ; ^^ gation to choose the higher and more valuable. 1 
 "^ / think not. If a sense of obligation would not arise 
 of necessity the man could not have a moral na- 
 ture. 'j^It is the necessity and certainty of a thing 
 
GOOD AS A MOTIVS. 235 
 
 iinder its conditions that make it to be a natura 
 The man is under no necessity of choosing the 
 *■ better part," but would be under a necessity of 
 feeling obligation to choose it, and of choosing be- 
 tween it and that which was less valuable, jn alj 
 rational action a sense of obligation to choose th« 
 higher good accompanies the apprehension of that 
 good, ^d there can neither be choice, nor a sense 
 of obligation to choose, without an apprehension, 
 direct or implied, of good in the object or act to 
 be chosen. That which has no good in it, and 
 is known to have none, cannot be an object of 
 choice. >vvt^U5^ ^ dUwO^ 
 
 We have then, both Good and Obligation, aa 
 motives to choice. What is their nature and rela- 
 tive influence ? 
 
 GcQod-is_Jundamental. Known directly or im 
 plicitly, it is, as has just been said, t he c ondition 
 of ob Ug^ation, and is the ultimate reason for choice. 
 It stands before the mind as a reason and is chosen 
 for its own sake. It is ultimate. Something ulti- 
 mate we must have, or there would be no end in 
 going back for objects of pursuit, and this we find 
 in Good known as such in some form of the Sensi- 
 bility, — known as having value in itself. It ia 
 the apprehension of this as an element underlying, 
 interfused, or standing in front, and as having 
 value in itself, that makes conduct rational as dis- 
 tinguished from impulsive- There is great beauty 
 in the mechanism of impulses as driving the being 
 
236 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 on to its good with no comprehension of the mech- 
 iinism on its paxt, and, with no apprehension of 
 the good to be reached ; but it is another order of 
 things when all there is of mechanism and impulse 
 is comprehended, and when the good stands in 
 front, or is in any way apprehended as a reason 
 foi^^choice, and when, in order to be attained, it 
 must be rationally chosen. Then, and then only, 
 3an we have a philosophy of conduct. 
 
 Such being the part performed by Good as a 
 motive, what is that performed by Obligation? 
 This is peculiar. Being a primitive manifesta- 
 tion of the moral nature, it stands by itself as 
 much as thought does. As from the Intellect, ob- 
 ligation is rational ; as from the Sensibility, it is 
 emotive, jit has, therefore, m it an element both 
 of reason and of impulse, and so is capable of be- 
 coming, and does become, an authoritative impulseJ 
 But an authoritative impulse is law, and so far aa 
 we can see, is the only possible forrn in which there 
 can so be a law within the constitution that a man 
 shaU become a law unto himself. As authorita- 
 tive, law must be both promissory and minatory, 
 tor anything claiming to be a law without a sanc- 
 tion express or imphed would be no law. But if 
 promissory and minatory, then of what ? It must 
 be of some good on the one hand, or evil on the 
 other, that may be realized in the Sensibility. 
 
 Thus do we find the deep harmony there is be- 
 tween good and obligation acting as motives. Not 
 
OBUGATION m TWO WAYS. 237 
 
 only is good^tlie condition of obligation, since obli 
 gation arises on the apprehension of it, and re- 
 qnires it for its sanction, but they are conspiring 
 forces. In a normal state the free choice would 
 always be of that good for its own sake towards 
 which the impulse that is in obligation would 
 tend, and so we may see how, instead of a bond- 
 age, all service under the law of righteousness may 
 become perfect freedom. Nor, in speaking of tlie 
 harmony of good and obligation as motives, may 
 we omit to mention the new and high source of 
 good opened to us in the sensibilities from the 
 moral nature which are revealed in connection 
 with the sense of obligation and its results. This 
 good reveals itself as a motive from the first, and 
 before acting, in the way of promise ; and imme- 
 diately on acting in accordance with the sense of 
 obligation, which becomes conscience when our 
 own actions are concerned, it becomes a song that 
 accompanies us through our pilgrimage so long as 
 the impulse there is in obligation is heeded. 
 
 When a greater and higher good as compared 
 mth a lower is presented, perhaps all will agree 
 that we must feel obligation to choose the higher ; 
 but are there not acts and courses of conduct in 
 view of which obligation arises when there is no 
 distinct apprehension of good, and none at all ex- 
 cept as it comes in the promise implied in the 
 sense of obligation itself ? I think there are. If 
 there were not there would not be that adaptation 
 
238 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 of man to his position that we find everywhere 
 else. In early life, and often subsequently, all are 
 so placed as to be unable to apprehend intellectu- 
 ally the proper grounds of conduct, and therefor© 
 we might expect that the moral nature, as sensi- 
 tive, would have a feeling of obligation analogous 
 to instinct in animals, and directive for man in 
 reference to his highest good. Such a feeling 
 there is, but it is merely impulsive, and can never 
 be the ground of a philosophy. It can never be 
 the basis of a system of comprehension by which 
 man knows himself to act intelligently with refer- 
 ence to all the impulses of his nature. Always 
 (_mstinct tends to the highest good.7 It has its basis 
 In the intelligent recognition by Him who gave it, 
 of the highest good of the animal, while there is no 
 conscious recognition of that good by the animal 
 itself. And so it is here. The impulse may be 
 rationally accepted as the ground of conduct, but 
 80 far as there is any ground for the comprehen- 
 sion of the conduct as rational, or for any philoso- 
 phy, it must be foimd in the underlying idea of 
 good. When legitimate, this impulse of obligation 
 binds U3 by its very nature ; but as an impulse, it 
 IB to be rationally tested like all others ; especially 
 §ince men have often believed themselves impelled 
 by it to perform the most wicked acts. 
 
 It is in the two ways just named that I think 
 obhgation arises ; but what of the idea of right, does 
 not that belong here? You will observe that 2 
 
THE IDEA OF BIGHT. 239 
 
 have spoken of the obligation to choose, and the 
 obligation to act. Between these, I make a dis- 
 tinction corresponding to that between choice and 
 solition. LQhligation to choose arises immediately 
 in view of the higher good, and this act of choice is 
 a perfectly simple act.^ No means are needed. Let 
 a higher and a lower good be presented between 
 which a man must choose, and he is to choose. 
 That is aU. It is a simple primitive act, which no 
 man can explain, or make more simple, and which 
 no man can tell another how to do. In that is 
 freedom, inherent, essential. He does it, indeed, 
 under the sense of obligation to choose the higher 
 good, but there is no compulsion. Here there is no 
 need of the idea of right as I use that word, be- 
 cause the obligation to choose arises immediately 
 from the apprehension of the good itself ; and if we 
 have the sense of obligation that is all that we need. 
 Practically,; the idea of right avails notliing except 
 as it is the basis of obligationJ and here, in the in- 
 cipiency of moral action, we have a basis without 
 'Jiat. The obligation here is obligation to choose. 
 But choice is one thing, and the volition and ex- 
 ecutive act by which the choice is carried out is 
 another. In choosing there are no means, and no 
 possible difference of methods. The simple question 
 is, will you choose that which you know yourself 
 V) be imder obli^^ation to choose ; ves or no ? But 
 hi volition, in acting, in seeking to carry out the 
 choice, and realize the end, me-ins must come in, 
 
240 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 and there is room for a diifference of raeaiiR and of 
 methods. 
 
 This brings us to choices of a different order ; 
 the choice, not of ends, bift of means and cf meth- 
 ods ; and here comes in the idea of right and of 
 obligation as connected /with that. Of two courses 
 of action equally compatible with the rights of oth- 
 ers, one, it may be, will more effectively secure 
 that good sought than the other. Such a course 
 will be right, and there will immediately arise a 
 sense of obligation to pursue it. As 1 understand 
 it, right always carries with it a sense of obligation. 
 They go together. The idea of right "cToes not 
 come in originally as the foundation of the obliga- 
 tion to choose, but obligation to act in a given way 
 arises immediately from an apprehension of the 
 rightness of the act, that is to say, from its ten- 
 dency to accomplish the end. Still there would be 
 no obhgation but for the relation of the rightness 
 to some good. If there were no relation of the 
 right act to some good, there would be nothing 
 either right or wrong. Anything moral or im- 
 moral would be impossible. It will be seen, there- 
 fore, that I derive the whole moral value of right 
 from obligation as primitive, whereas others de- 
 rive the whole force of obligation from the idea of 
 right. We can, they say, be under no obligation 
 to do anything except what is right, and because 
 it is right. To this, I agree so far as obligation to 
 act outwardly is concerned, but I also say that we 
 
RIGHT. 241 
 
 Rre never under obligation to do an act as morally 
 right, for which there is not a reason in some good 
 besides its being right, and on account of which it 
 IS right. 
 
 It may seem trivial, but having illustrated other 
 points on the board, let me attempt this. A boy 
 is sent to school from the point A. The school- 
 house is at B. At the point C, he meets a boy 
 who asks hira to go with him to the point D and 
 uteal some pears. Here we have room for motives 
 that are higher and lower, that may decide the 
 question irrespective of obligation. On the one 
 hand the boy may love study. He may wish to 
 please his teacher, or his father, or may fear pun- 
 iahment. On the other hand is appetite and the 
 
 love of truancy. The alternative would be be- 
 tween taking the road to B or D. He would not 
 think of going on in a straight line to some indefi- 
 nite point, E, for the sake of going in a straight 
 line ; but if a sense of obligation should come in at 
 %11, it would be to prompt him to yield to motives 
 
242 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF \LVN. 
 
 intrinsically the strongest, and thus to attain 
 a good congruous to the liigher part of his nature. 
 If there is no good proposed either for ourselves oi 
 for any one else, the act cannot be right. 
 
 This point I stated, and in the above terms, in 
 • the lectures that I gave here four years since, and 
 it was especially this that was controverted by Dr. 
 McCosh in the correspondence that afterwards 
 took place, and that has been controverted by oth- 
 ers. I have now made it as dist^ct as I can, and 
 leave you to judge. ^ ■ ":^'l 
 
 But what is the idea of right which is held by 
 those who object to that now presented? You 
 will see thatjl regard right as the quality of actionJ 
 butthey generally present it as an idea of the pure 
 intellect,; and that belongs in our scheme, with 
 thoae'oT time and space. Hence I they say it is 
 something that is eternal and immutable, and to 
 which God himself is subject./ Others see that the 
 foundation of morals cannot be in the pure intel- 
 lect/since anything originating wholly there can- 
 not be a motive, and they say that there is no such 
 thing as right or wrong except in connection with 
 the Sensibility and the Will. That of course puts 
 it out of all relation to those necessary ideas ; and 
 yet, they say that there is no authority of obliga- 
 tion, unless it be based on right. It is indeed possi' 
 bie, since choice is moral action, to carry the word 
 right, up into the region of choice as distinguished 
 from action, and to say of the choice of a highei 
 
RIGHTS. 243 
 
 good made under a sense of obligation, that it is a 
 right choice, or that it is right to choose the higher 
 good ; but here again it is right with reference to 
 the good chosen, and can have moral quality only 
 from the primary obligation based on that. Obli- 
 gation thus springing as one indivisible product 
 from the action of our whole nature, has no need of 
 anything beyond itseK to give it authority. _It. 
 isjthe voice of our moral nature speaking to us, 
 and is its own authority. 
 
 We say then on this whole subject — 1st. T hat 
 goodjs valuable in itself. 2d. That it is, and there- 
 fore, a proper motive of choice and of action. 3d. 
 That when a choice must be made between a 
 higher and a lower good, obligation is necessa- 
 rily affirmed to choose the higher. 4th. That 
 between choosing in accordance with obligation 
 thus affirmed, and ultimate good, there is a sure 
 connection. To doubt this would be atheism, or 
 worse. And 5th. That there can be no harm in 
 knowinjz these facts, and that it will not lower the 
 tone of action to act in view of them, as well as 
 in accordance with them. 
 
 With the idea of obligation, formed as has been 
 ■tated, the moral being is constituted ; he becomes 
 V vsapable of a moral act ; that is a free act. It 
 IB an act of preference or choice, for where thero 
 is no preference or choice there is no morality. 
 The idea of oblitration is conditioned on that of a 
 free will, but is not its product. It comes of ne- 
 cessity before choice ; and choice made either in 
 
244 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN 
 
 ponformity ^vith it, or in opposition to it, is a 
 moral act. But such acts, of one kind and tlie 
 other, cannot be without the formation of the 
 ideas of — 
 
 MERIT Am) DE^fERTr. 
 
 These are virtually contained in the idea of ob- 
 ligation, but cannot be fully realized till after tha 
 act. I mention them here because these ideas of 
 obligation and of merit and of demerit, belong to a 
 moral being as such. They would belong to him 
 as existing and acting alone. Moral law is incon 
 ceivable without them. 
 
 From the ideas of Rights and of Obligation two 
 others must arise. The first is that of 
 
 RESPONSIRrLTTY. 
 
 We can be responsible to no one who has not some 
 authority over us. The authority must be a 
 righteous authority, that is, an authority founded 
 on a right ; and to any one who has such authority 
 we are responsible. Obligation is not the same aa 
 Responsibihty. We may be under obligation to 
 aid a poor man, but are not responsible tp him. 
 In no proper sense can God be said to be respon- 
 sible to any one. " He giveth not account of 
 any of his matters." 
 
 The second idea is that of 
 
 PUNISHMENT. 
 
 This arises necessarily on the violation of right- 
 eous authority. But here a distinction ia to be 
 
PUNISHMENT. 245 
 
 made, and is greatly needed, to which our laiiguago 
 13 not fully accommodated. It is that between 
 the evil that comes from the act itself with no in- 
 tervention of the will of another, as in remorse, 
 or through natural law, and that which is in- 
 flicted by another for the purpose of sustaining 
 righteous authority. We need a word which shall 
 always imply a guilty disregard of authority, and 
 the infliction of evil by the person in whom the 
 authority resides for the purpose of maintaining 
 that authority. This distinction is pai-tially rec- 
 ognized in the different uses made of the words 
 penalty and punishment ; penalty often implying 
 evil irrespective of guilt, or of the will of another ; 
 whereas punishment uniformly imphes guilt, and 
 generally evil inflicted by another. When we 
 act in view of penalty as distinguished from pun- 
 ishment, we act under moral law, can be governed 
 only by reason, and may have a pliilosophy. When 
 we act in view of punishment as distinguished from 
 penalty, we act under positive law^; can be gov- 
 erned rationally only through faith ; and can have 
 no philosophy. Obedience must be implicit. It 
 may be rational through faith, but as obedience, 
 it does not admit of philosophy. Philosophy 
 may show that the thing commanded is righteous, 
 or in accordance with rights, but this is not sup- 
 posed to be seen by him to whom the command 
 IB addressed, or if it be, the additional motive in« 
 volved in the command may be needed. 
 
243 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 What next ? There are those, and their nam- 
 ber ifl increasing, who say that the idea of God is 
 given in the same way as those we have been con- 
 sidering. To decide this we must know what they 
 who say this would include in the idea of God. 
 Would they include the idea of an Infinite Per- 
 oonal Being possessed of moral attributes ? With- 
 out this the idea of God is not worth contending 
 for. But if they would include this, I do not think 
 that the idea is thus given. K so no man could be 
 an atheist. On this point, however, I would not 
 be confident. 
 
 We have now found the ideas which would be 
 necessitated by the addition of a rational and free 
 Will to the Intellect and the Sensibility. What 
 shall we call the power by which these ideas are 
 given ? They are given in the same way as the 
 necessary ideas from the Intellect alone, which we 
 have attributed to the Reason ; and as those from 
 the Intellect and Sensibility, which we have attrib- 
 uted to the Esthetic, or Affective Reason. Evi- 
 dently the power here is of the satce general na- 
 ture, and I suppose it to be what Kant called 
 
 THE MORAL, OR PRACTICAL REASON. 
 
 If we call it the Practical Reason, we indicate all 
 the functions of the power, especially that charac- 
 teristic of its products which makes them both 
 rational and emotive. If we call it The Mora. 
 
TABULAK BESULTS. 
 
 247 
 
 Heason, we name it, as in the case of the Esthetic 
 Reason, from only a single one, though the princi- 
 pal one of its functions. 
 
 It only remains to place before you in a single 
 view the results we have reached in this lecture.^ 
 
 punishment, 
 Responsibility, 
 
 DEMERIT 
 
 Merit, 
 Obligation, 
 
 KIOHTS, 
 CAU8ATI0«, 
 
 Freedom, 
 Personality. 
 
 Products, 
 practicaji or moral reason. 
 
 ( \ 
 
 \ 
 
 f-' 
 
 P 
 
 t- 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 ta« 
 
 J 
 
 ^ 
 
 Ji 
 
 ~ 
 
 'A . 
 
 00 
 
 H 
 
 1 
 
 ;2; 
 
 OQ 
 
 
 a 5j 
 
 '* H 
 
 H 9 
 
 J O 
 
 M d 
 
 a n 
 
 H QQ 
 
 N ^ 
 
 ^ OQ 
 
 ^ H 
 
 O H 
 
 It 
 M 
 
 I* 
 O 
 
 IB 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 U 
 
 H 
 
 33 
 H 
 
 Pt 
 O 
 
 INTELLECT, SENSIBILITY, AND WILL 
 * See Appendix C. / 
 
LECTURE XI. 
 
 BODY ; BOUL ; SPmiT. — SPONTANEITY ; FEEE- 
 DOM. — THE NATURAL ; SUPERNATUliAL ; MI- 
 EACCLOUS. — CONDUCT; OBLIGATION; A SU- 
 PREME END ; CHARACTER. — THE HIGHEST 
 GOOD ; THE WHOLE GOOD ; THE LAW OF LIMI- 
 TATION. 
 
 We have now constituted the Person. In doing 
 this we have found that those necessary ideas or 
 products which are common to the race, and which 
 are regulative, are of three kinds. The first and 
 lowest are those of the pure Intellect. The second 
 are those of the Intellect combined with the Sensi- 
 bility ; and the third are those of the Intellect and 
 Sensibihty in combination with a rational WiU. 
 
 And as these three products have a different 
 origin, so they have different characteristics and 
 perform different offices. They are_alikfi_aa-jiecess'.„ 
 Kjitated, and common to all, and regulative ; but 
 chey contain different elements, and regulate differ- 
 ent departments. By the addition of the Sensibil- 
 ity to the Intellect we have a new department for 
 the Intellect. The Intellect gives us light simply ; 
 what has sometimes been called a " dry light." 
 With the Sensibility added, we have light^and 
 
EEGULATIVE IDEAS : THREE CLASSES. 249 
 
 warmth blended, and a field for the Intellect that 
 covers the whole range of possible combinations of 
 intellect and feeling where no conscious ^vill or 
 purpose is involved. With the Will added we have 
 not only light and warmth, but the chemical rays. 
 The action of Will not only opens new fields to the 
 Intellect, but gives new materials and forms to 
 the SensibiUty. It is here, and here only, that we 
 find anything of a moral character. 
 
 From what has now been said it will be seen 
 that we have three departments of study in ac- 
 cordance with the three classes of regulative ideas. 
 :t"We have the department of pure thought j;/^he 
 department of animal wants and desires, and affec- 
 tions, and of beauty;' 'and the department of mor- 
 als ; and we see that these departments must become 
 more complex and difficult as we go up. We may 
 Bee too, one great source of the disagreement of 
 those who have labored in the higher departments. 
 It has been because they have not sufficiently ap- 
 prehended the essential differences between the 
 regulative ideas in the different departments, for 
 these are scarcely more distinguished by their sub- 
 jects than by the regulative ideas that underlie 
 them. With these differences in view it does not 
 seem possible that an attempt would have been 
 uiade to found the science of morals on an idea 
 having a similar origin with that of space. 
 
 In thus reaching a person, we make, as has been 
 said, a great transition. We reach the highest 
 
250 AN OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 possible point ; we reach an intelligent, free, moral 
 cause. We reach a cause. Here is a being capa- 
 ble of interposing his own free choice and his 
 power of volition, and thus purposely causing that 
 to be, which, but for him, would not have been. 
 Herein, as respects freedom and power, he is iii 
 the image of God. Now we have, as we had not 
 before, a being capable of character, of being 
 loved, respected, venerated, rewarded ; capable also 
 of being despised, contemned, abhorred, punished. 
 You may discipline an animal, you may train him, 
 but ID no proper sense can he be said to have guili, 
 and therefore he cannot be punished. 
 
 In reaching personahty after the method we 
 have followed, we find below that, three forma of 
 necessitated activity. ^The first is that of exter- 
 nal nature, with which we have, at present^ noth- 
 ing to do. 1J£\\Q second is that by which the bod- 
 ily fmictions are carried on. It comprises all the 
 movements within that part of our scheme which 
 was presented under the head of Physiology, 
 which are attributed to life, and seem automatic 
 or 8pontaneous.j2£rhe third comprises all the men- 
 tal movements, intellectual and affective, up to 
 the point of choice. There is also, as we shall 
 seCyi^ fourth region of necessity, comprising the 
 results subsequent to choice and consequent upon 
 it. Of these regions of necessity, three pertain tc 
 us in Buch a way as to give us three different n* 
 
THE BODY 251 
 
 tures, for, as I use the term, wherever we have a 
 uniform necessity that can be distinguished from 
 all others, we have a nature. 
 
 We have then firstjlhe physical nature, or the 
 body. It is a living organized body, and, the con- 
 ditions being given, the processes within it by which 
 It is built up and sustained, as of digestion, circu- 
 lation, and secretion, go on by a movement as spon- 
 taneous, as necessary, as httle connected with our 
 choice or volition, as the processes within the vege- 
 table. These processes are, indeed, carried on by 
 that organic life that is common to the vegetable and 
 the animal, and the necessity which controls them 
 may be called an organic necessity, as that which 
 controls mere matter may be called a physical ne- 
 cessity. The body, then, will not consist merely of 
 the matter of which it may be composed at any 
 given moment, and which is constantly changing, 
 but of that in connection with the organific power 
 that has been in it from the first, has wrought its 
 5hanges, has caused it to be such a body rather than 
 mother, and given it its identity, so that we say 
 we have the same body, while not a particle of the 
 iame matter remains. How far this individual- 
 ized force may be preserved in its identity when 
 it is separated from the matter of the body so that 
 it may again reappear, perhaps, according to the 
 doctrine of the correlation of forces, under some 
 other form, it is not for us to say. Certainly it is 
 not the least marvelous feature of our present 
 
252 AN OUTUNE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 Btate that there are types that are constantly pre- 
 served, while yet having such a wonderful variety 
 under them. And as the types are preserved, so 
 there is no absurdity in supposing that in some 
 way unknown to us, each individual force, that 
 which Ls really the body, may be preserved. The 
 preservation of the type by generation after its 
 kind seems natural because we are accustomed to 
 it, but is really as mysterious as would be the con- 
 tinuity of the individual force. At any rate we 
 have here a separate, necessitated form of move- 
 ment, that builds up and maintains organization, 
 and we call the force thus building, together with 
 the resulting organization, the Body. 
 ^2. ^Then "vve have the mental necessity that deter- 
 mines th^ movements of the mind up to the point 
 of choice. We do not think, we did not originally, 
 from will. If we had not thought fii-st by a 
 necessity of our nature, and because we wt,re cre- 
 ated thinking beings, we could never have known 
 that we had the power to think. The power ia 
 necessitated, the direction is from will. Of this 
 involuntary movement of the mind whose products 
 are offered to us to be accepted or rejected, I have 
 already spoken. Left to itself it is a movement 
 according to a necessary law, thus implying a na- 
 ture. The laws of logic are as necessary, to say 
 the least, as that of gravitation. So, also, in the 
 laws of the Sensibility, when the conditions are 
 given ; and in the various combinations of Intellect 
 
THE SPIMT. 253 
 
 and feeling, including animal wants and passions. 
 The force which produces these necessitated move- 
 ments, is other than that which builds up the physi- 
 cal organization. With modifications it is com- 
 mon to all sensitive and perceptive life, to the ani- 
 mals as well as to us, and, though the word harf 
 often a different and higher meaning, niay be called 
 the Soul. 
 •^ff^ There remains that which I have represented as 
 standing above the products of this necessity and 
 choosing and refusing, and as exerting in various 
 ways an indirect control over the products them- 
 selves. This again is a force other than either of 
 those below it. So far as it is free, that is, as it 
 chooses with an alternative different in kind, and 
 as it is intelligently causative, it is not a nature. 
 It is another order of being. It is Spirit. The 
 functions of Spirit are two. They are first, Free- 
 dom of choice, and second. Causation. By free- 
 dom we mean the power and the opportunity of 
 choice by a rational being with an alternative in 
 kind. This idea of freedom so inheres in such a 
 power that the power is inconceivable without it. 
 By causation we mean nothing secondary. We 
 aiean the origination both of choice and of motion. 
 If man is not a true cause he cannot be responsi- 
 ble. In these man has not a nature, but is super- 
 natural. But subsequent to choice there is neces- 
 sity, and so a nature ; and this necessity is as 
 absolute, at least for us, as any other. A man 
 
254 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 may choose whether he will steal or not, but if he 
 Bteal there wiU be a necessary reaction on his own 
 spirit that will render it different in spite of will, 
 from what it would have been. Remorse and 
 shame will come by necessity after choice, when, 
 by a similar necessity, there might have been a 
 virtuous self-complacency, and hope and joy. 
 
 The necessity of which I have just spoken is 
 one part of the moral nature, for it wiU be seen 
 that, as related to the spirit, the moral nature is 
 double. It consists in the necessity which gives us 
 the idea of obligation before choosiug ; and also in 
 that which gives us the results just mentioned that 
 follow choice, and action from it. If we were not 
 under the necessity of feeling obligation, we should 
 not have a moral nature; and if there were not" 
 necessary results as we act in accordance with, or in 
 opposition to obligation, that nature would be nuga 
 tory. We should not be a law unto ourselves. It 
 is to be observed, however, that while obligation 
 precedes the action of spirit as moral, yet that the 
 idea of it is conditioned on the existence of Spirit, 
 and the possibility of its acting, as the idea of re- 
 morse is conditioned on its having acted iu a par- 
 ticular way. We have thus here also the circle 
 that we find in all life, for in every living thing 
 all that is essential to the whole is implied in the 
 action of every part. 
 
 We find then, in working our way up, a clear 
 distinction between the action of Spirit as free and 
 
SPONTANEITY AND FREEDOM 255 
 
 csauBative, and all necessity of nature. We also 
 find three departments of force clearly distin- 
 guishable from each other, and suppose that the 
 Apostle Paul was justified as a philosopher in 
 calling them Body, Soul, and Spirit. Certainly 
 man is more complex in his unity than any other 
 being on the earth ; perhaps more so than any 
 other being in the universe, unless it be God him 
 self ; certainly there are in him the three distin- 
 guishable and separable forms of activity mentioned 
 — separable because actually separated lq the veg 
 otable and the animal, and each fairly referable to 
 a distinct force ; and for each of these we need a 
 name. To the names given there are objections ; 
 and especially to the term " soul," as having often, 
 in our times, a broader meaning ; but I suppose this 
 distinction is indicated by the Apostle in his use of 
 these terms, and it is, perhaps, as well as we can do. 
 
 Having now reached the point of freedom, and 
 having spoken of spontaneous movement in con- 
 nection with that, I will call your attention to the 
 difference between them. As related to our wills,") 
 \a spontaneous movement is as necessary as anyV 
 < other. It differs from other necessitated move- 
 Vnent in springing from within that which is 
 moved, and so simulates freedom. As apparently 
 without effort it is pleasing, and as from a con- 
 cealed cause it is mysterious, but that it is the op- 
 posite of the will and of action from that is clear 
 
256 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 because it is the spontaneous movements that (lie 
 will is to oppose and rule over. Sudden anger is 
 spoutiineous ; so are the Appetites, the Impulses, 
 and the Passions generally, and these are to be 
 controlled by the Will. In that is choice, and also 
 purj)ose, which is generic choice. These are 
 made, or should be, in the light of the Intellect, 
 in view of reasons standing before, as well as from 
 impulsions, and in these alone is there freedom. 
 Spontaneity and freedom are therefore entirely 
 different things. This I speak of with some 
 emphasis because the two have often been con- 
 founded, and sometimes by eminent writers. A / 
 
 The point of freedom which we have now 
 reached is the point of Dominion. Of this I have 
 before spoken as a characteristic of man. Domin- 
 ion implies intelligent freedom, because that which 
 is dominated over, or determined by anything 
 else, cannot have dominion. This prerogative of 
 freedom is one of the original and simple forms 
 in which our nature manifests itself, and so admits 
 of no explanation. It must be known directly by 
 and in itself, or it cannot be known at all. In 
 this way all men do know it. The power of 
 choice and so the idea of freedom, enters into their 
 conception of themselves in the same way that the 
 power of thinking does. We can choose as we 
 please. Here our power is direct, and nothing 
 that does not destroy our very being can take ii 
 
CHOICE AND VOUTION. 25T 
 
 from US, or prevent our using it. In outward acta 
 we use means. We need at least the use of our 
 limbs and organs of expression. But in choosing, 
 the act is simple. We use no means, and no one 
 can teach us how to do it. There is no how to it, for 
 a Tioiv always implies the use of means. Hence, aa 
 independent of external force, and of means, which 
 may, or may not be in our power ; as the origin of 
 ail outward manifestation of what is properly the 
 person, and as rendering character possible, the 
 Will as choice is the ultimate seat of responsibility, 
 and an essential element of personality. 
 
 This direct power over our own choices by 
 which we become capable of dominion, ought to 
 be distinguished more carefully than it has been 
 from that secondary power of volition which is 
 put forth only in the use of means. Choice may 
 be without volition, and expresses character aa 
 fully as if volition followed. Hence it is that God 
 looks upon the heart. 
 
 But volition without choice is impossible, and 
 
 when it is put forth may be nugatory. It has 
 
 no moral character, and its value depends on that 
 
 contingent power through which we control oui 
 
 bodies and the agencies around us. It is through 
 
 this that we control indirectly the involuntary 
 
 processes within us, both physical and mental, and 
 
 filso the processes of nature around us. Choosing 
 
 COrst, and then controlling these with reference to 
 
 I ends, we have dominion. 
 
 L 17 
 
258 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 And here I think we are at a point where we 
 may see the difference between what is natural 
 ftnd wliat is supernatural. !Nature is__the_j:egiQn 
 ot necessity. - Left to themselves the processes 
 around us go on with absolute uniformity. So 
 the rivers run, so the stars move. But that 
 which is free, and has dominion over nature, is 
 super natural. It is above nature. It is in an- 
 other region and is controlled by other principles 
 altogether. There are those who say that every- 
 thing out of God is nature, but this has been unfor- 
 tunate as confounding things that differ, as favor- 
 ing necessity, and tending to degrade man. I 
 would say that everything that is not God, and 
 that is not made in the image of God, is nature. 
 If that which is in God be not nature, if it be 
 supernatural, why should we call that in us by 
 which we are in the image of God, nature ? If 
 there be, as is conceded, that in the kind of pow- 
 ers with which we are endowed in virtue of which 
 we are in the image of God, and exercise domin- 
 ion over nature, then we must be, so far forth, 
 supernatural. And here I suppose we find the true 
 line between nature and the supernatural. All 
 spirit and spiritual activity, whether it be morally 
 good or evil, is supernatural. AU free causation ia 
 supernatural. 
 
 There is another point that may be referred to 
 in connection with the power of Will. It is the 
 
MIBACLES. 259 
 
 flifference between the supernatural and the mi- 
 raculous. Much is said at present in regard to 
 miracles, and men seem to me to fall into dif- 
 ficulties about them of their own making. Did 
 you ever see a man riding in his own dust ? In 
 California, where they have no rain for three 
 months and the wind blows steadily in one direc- 
 tion, a man may ride thus all day with everything 
 obscured around and above him, while, to one who 
 stands apart, the atmosphere is wonderfully trans- 
 parent. We have speculative men much in that 
 condition. On many points, and this of miracles 
 is one, they raise a fog about their own heads 
 and suppose it extends through the universe. 
 They talk about miracles as a violation of the 
 laws of nature. A miracle is no violation of any 
 law of nature. It presupposes laws of nature, and 
 is simply an act performed directly by the will of 
 God that transcends those laws. That the wiU 
 of God should cause iron to rise and swim in the 
 water, is no more a violation of the law of gravita- 
 tion than it is for me to raise this rod which goes 
 up directly or indirectly by the superior force of 
 Will acting at some point immediately upon mat- 
 ter. The law of gravitation continues to act, but 
 the rod rises by a spiritual force that transcends 
 it, that force acting freely, intelligently, and with 
 dominion. Such an event, so far as it is produced 
 by an agency that is spiritual and free, is supernat- 
 ural, but not miraculous. In a miracle the will of 
 
2G0 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 God acts directly, and produces outward effects 
 with no intervening agency. This our wills can- 
 not do. Hence a miracle is the great seal of God 
 to any communication from Himself, and, so far 
 as we can see, not the only possible evidence, far 
 from it, but the only possible seal. There is in it 
 as there is in our control over nature, the agency 
 of an intelligent Will exercising dominion. This 
 is the important element, and the only important 
 element in both cases. The one is no more 
 strange than the other ; there is in it no more any 
 violation of a law of nature, but the mode is such 
 as to show that it can be done by God only. 
 What difficulty then is there here ? I see none, 
 unless we deny the power of God to act directly 
 on matter, and to do that would be a practical 
 denial of his existence. 
 
 We have now seen how personality is consti- 
 tuted, and what are its prerogatives; and we 
 have fully furnished the mind up to the point of 
 responsible action, giving it its three classes of 
 regulative ideas, together with all that comes con- 
 tingently by direct presentation. Some, indeed, 
 may think we have gone beyond that, for in the 
 list I gave you at the close of the last lecture the 
 ideas of merit and demerit, and of reward and 
 punishmeTit, were put down, and they may be 
 thought of as solely the result of moral action. In a 
 sense they are, but they are so implied in the very 
 
CONDUCT AND CHABACTEE. 261 
 
 conception of a moral nature, are so inlierent anc 
 essential that they may be said to be given with 
 the nature itselfo 
 
 Having reached the person, as we now have, 
 and thus a proper cause, we have reached the 
 highest point. There is nothing higher in kind 
 than a personal cause. God is such a cause 
 Henceforth there will be no more upbuilding by 
 the addition of conditioning and conditioned fac- 
 ilities. We now enter another region. We pass 
 from the tree to its fruit, from the philosophy of 
 man to that of conduct, from the upbuilding of 
 the person to the formation and upbuilding of such 
 a character as a person thus constituted ought to 
 form and build up. 
 
 But moral and responsible action, to which we 
 now come, is action from choice, or rather, it is 
 the choice itself. A being with no power of choice 
 can be neither moral nor responsible, and when 
 the choice is made the moral character of the act 
 and of all that pertains to it is determined. 
 Choice implies an object that may be chosen, and 
 also an alternative. This alternative may be be- 
 tween two objects of the same kind, or of different 
 kinds, or it may be between choosing a single ob- 
 ject or not choosing it ; but an alternative of some 
 kind there must be. 
 
 Let us then bring up before the person the dif- 
 ferent springs or grounds of action wliich we have 
 found in the constitution, and so the different 
 
262 
 
 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 possible obiects of choice. To do this let the 
 person, now fully constituted, but not ha\ing jet 
 acted, be represented by a straight line thus, — 
 
 It, 
 o 
 
 S 
 § 
 
 o 
 
 MORAL LOV£. 
 BB7IBVOLBNCS,OE 
 
 FOR COUIflRT. 
 FOR FAMILT, 
 
 Natural Aftections, a« 
 Esteem. 
 
 POWER, 
 
 Knowledob, 
 Property, 
 Desires, as ov 
 
 Appetites. 
 
 GROUNDS OF ACTION. 
 
 BEPTEVOLElfT. 
 J08T, 
 TRUE, 
 BienTEOUB, 
 
 patriotic. 
 Amiablb 
 
 AMBITIOUS. 
 
 ooyxtous. 
 
 Sensual. 
 CHARACTER. 
 
 We then bring up, as we have heretofore done, 
 the results of our previous work, and place them 
 before the person in their order and rank as con- 
 i]itiomng and conditioned. Without going into 
 detail we have thus, in kind, every principle of 
 action in our constitution, each legitimate and 
 desirable in its place. We then place Obligation 
 on the other side of the Hne, written so as to show 
 its presence at every point where choice is to be 
 made between different principles of action that 
 may be contending for the ascendency. 
 
 With this before us we are able to see what 
 takes place in responsible action. A choice is tc 
 
OBLIGATION 263 
 
 be made between a lower principle of action and 
 a higher, and the moral nature, when it is dealt 
 fairly by, will always affirm obhgation to choose 
 ';he higher. If the question be between the grati- 
 fication of appetite and the practical exercise of 
 a benevolent affection, obligation will be affirmed 
 to exercise the affection. This affirmation is not 
 an act of the will. It is not virtue, or any part 
 of it. It is necessitated as being nature, and if 
 it were not thus necessitated we should not have 
 a moral nature. The sense of obligation thus 
 stands by itself in our constitution. We do not 
 suppose there is anything like it in that of the 
 brute. In that the strongest principle prevails 
 with no intervention of any sense or idea of obli- 
 gation. If the nature of the brute were repre- 
 sented by a straight line, as I have represented 
 the person, it would be governed wholly by what 
 is in front of it. Nothing would be thrown back. 
 With us the proper motives to choice are the 
 objects that address the different principles of 
 action; or, if you please, those principles them' 
 selves prompting us to act in view of the objects. 
 The objects present themselves as good ; if not 
 they would not be motives. The principles of. 
 action promise us a good if we will permit them 
 to act, and, in view of the objects and of the 
 affirmation of obligation taken together, tve are to 
 choose which object we will have, what principle 
 of action we will adopts what end we will pur- 
 
2G4 AN OUTLINE STUDY OP MAN. 
 
 Bue. The obligation is not an independent mo 
 tive, and becomes possible only as there is such a 
 motive presented to the Sensibility as a good, and 
 that is higher than some other with which it is in 
 conflict. There can no more be an obligation in- 
 dependent of some good in a sensibility than there 
 can be a right thus independent. 
 
 It will be seen, then, that obligation acts from 
 oehind as an impulse, and is to a moral being 
 what instinct is to an animal, except as any in> 
 pulsive power, however high, must be modified by 
 the coming in of comprehension and of freedom. 
 These come in to comprehend it and the condi- 
 tions on which it acts, and to prevent our being 
 misled by it as we are liable to be, and as animals 
 are, and must be, liable to be misled by their in- 
 stincts. The differences between Obhgation and 
 Instinct are two^one from its connection with 
 comprehension, and' ithe other with freedom. By 
 comprehension tv^ can understand its office as we 
 can that of an ordinary instinct, can find the con- 
 ditions on which it acts, can compare it with other 
 impulsions which come without comprehension, 
 and also with the reasons that stand before us and 
 become motives only through the intelligence. It 
 ifl through this power of comprehension that a 
 philosophy is possible. Obligation differs in its 
 action from instinct, through freedom, because, 
 though it claims to be, and was intended to be a 
 guide, — a voice behind us saying " this is the 
 
AUTHORITY AND FREEDOM. 265 
 
 way, walk ye in it," — there is yet tliat in the 
 persooality so above it that it can be rejected. 
 The man has the power to set it aside, and not 
 only that, but to set aside the reasons that are set 
 before him, — all that good with which our whole 
 nature leads us to suppose that obhgation will 
 ultimately coincide, — and to run into folly and 
 wickedness. This it is to be a fool, which, as I 
 have said before, no brute is capable of being. 
 With this impulsion, and power of comprehension, 
 and freedom, man can act rationally and morally 
 from a sense of obligation alone, with no visible 
 reason in front, but with the faith that there is 
 one. He can also act rationally and morally in 
 view of the good itself without being aware of the 
 impulsion or thinking of the obligation ; or he 
 may act under the conscious guidance and inspira- 
 tion of both. 
 
 At this point it is that we may see how it is 
 that obligation as authoritative may be reconciled 
 with freedom. Authority is either mandatory 
 or permissive. Sometimes the parent says, " thou 
 shalt," and perhaps the command is felt as oner- 
 ous, though never if filial love be what it should. 
 But sometimes the child says, " May I ? " and if 
 the parent says, " Yes," he is acting under author- 
 ity no less than if the thing were positively com- 
 manded. In this way, through filial love when the 
 Command is positive, and through permission when 
 authority and inclination coincide, authority ia 
 
2G6 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 hannonized with an obedience that is freedom. 
 For the inost part we act under the guidance of 
 authority as permissive, and, if we are in the right 
 path, shall do so more and more. 
 
 Obligation, as has been said, is affirmed when- 
 ever there is a conflict of motives as higher and 
 lower, but we can never estimate its full force, or 
 Bee how character is formed \vithout referring to 
 a distinction I formerly made in this place be- 
 tween ends as subordinate, ultimate, and supreme. 
 A subordinate end is that which we seek f oil the 
 sake of something else. An ultimate end is that- 
 which we seek for its own sake as a good in itself. 
 A supreme end is an ultimate end made by us 
 paramount to all others. Setting now before a 
 person the range of motives or ends involved in 
 the column I have placed before you, it might be 
 supposed that he might act, now with reference 
 to one end, and now to another, without making 
 any one supreme. And many seem to do this. 
 They seem to be controlled, now by this impulse, 
 now by that, and to be under the guidance of no 
 one principle. We call them frivolous. If, more- 
 over, you ask the first man you meet what his 
 supreme end is, the chances are he will not be 
 able to tell you. But men often have such an 
 end without stating it to themselves or revealing 
 it to others, till they are tested. Here is a man 
 with whom power is a supreme end. He is full* 
 )f good impulses, ready to do you a favor, carog 
 
A SUIBEME END. 267 
 
 Dothing for money ; but come between him and 
 his power, and that man is a Bonaparte, and 
 will sacrifice the lives of five hundred thousand 
 men to enable him to take the city of Moscow, 
 while professing, and perhaps making himself be- 
 Ueve, that he is acting for the good of his country, 
 And so it is that some ruhng passion is constantly 
 revealing itself in society in such results, that, if 
 they had been foretold, the man himself would 
 have said, '' What ! is thy servant a dog that he 
 should do this thing ? " It does not follow, there- 
 fore, because a man cannot state to others, and 
 perhaps does not even to himself, what his su- 
 preme end is, that he has none. Indeed, it seema 
 to belong to the very nature of a moral being that 
 he should have such an end, for, as the gradation 
 of ends goes on till you come to the highest, Obli- 
 gation utters its voice at every step, so that, if, 
 at any point lower than the highest, a stand is 
 made, the end chosen at that point becomes the 
 Bupreme end ; whereas, if the man goes up, as 
 he should, tiU he reaches the highest end and 
 chooses that, then that will be the supreme end. 
 It enters therefore into the very conception of 
 moral law that there should be a supreme end, 
 and that the law should require that that end be 
 ehosen. 
 
 We now see how it is that character is formed. 
 It iajormedjjythe choice. aa..aupreiafi-Qf aom e one 
 9f the ends presented in the column of motives oi 
 
208 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 principles of action, the character being detenumed 
 by the end chosen. He who chooses money as his 
 Buprerae end, is a covetous man and " an idolater.* 
 He who chooses power is ambitious ; and he who 
 chooses God and his service is religious. This 
 divides characters into two classes. It makes a 
 difference to the man himself and to others in 
 many ways whether he chooses appetite, or prop- 
 erty, or knowledge, or power as his supreme end, 
 but in one respect those choosing either are mor- 
 ally much alike. They all equally ignore Obliga- 
 tion. Whoever is governed by a sense of obliga- 
 tion can make no end supreme that is not the 
 highest, and he who fails to be governed by a 
 sense of obligation must be radically wrong. If 
 the proper test of morality be that a man shall be 
 governed by his rational and moral nature — and 
 what else can it be ? — he is not a moral man. Be- 
 tween those who choose their ends and seek them 
 with the full purpose of doing it in accordance 
 with obligation, and those who either count obli- 
 gation out altogether, or only give it its turn with 
 other impulses as they may happen to come up, 
 there is a radical difference. Every variety of 
 character there may be among those who choose 
 any end beneath the highest. They may even 
 seem to have no character at all, but they lack 
 equally the voluntary element of a true manhood, 
 which consists in always choosing a higher end 
 when it comes into competition with a lower, and 
 
THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT. 269 
 
 in making the highest end supreme, so that life 
 will be at any time sacrificed rather than relin- 
 quish it. 
 
 And this shows us what it is for a being to fall 
 morally. It is to relinquish the choice of that 
 which is highest for the sake of an inferior good, 
 and to make that supreme. It shows too what 
 is meant in the Scriptures by " the flesh," and 
 " the spirit," when they are said to be " contrary 
 one to the other." The whole life of him who 
 abides steadfast in the choice of that which is high- 
 est is opposed in its spirit to that of him who 
 adopts as supreme any inferior end ; and he who 
 has once fallen and would regain his otanding must 
 maintain a constant struggle. 
 
 The evils from a failure to choose the highest 
 end are inherent, and are of two kinds. They 
 are, first, from the want of congruity between the 
 end chosen and our nature. There must be that 
 which is to our nature as God made it, what light 
 is to the eye, or air to the lungs ; and unless we 
 find that, whatever it be, there will be unrest. 
 There can be no true success. There will also be 
 evil from the want of harmony within the man 
 himself. No man can fail to choose the highest 
 end known to him, or that may be known, with- 
 out rebelling against hia better nature and subject 
 ing himself to self-reproach. The particular pas 
 sion may be gratified, but the moral nature ia 
 outraged, and the man mu/it either suffer from it 
 
270 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF ilAN. 
 
 continually, or quiet it temporarily in some dis- 
 ingenuous way. It is this last that most men do» 
 There are more men who practice dishonesty upon 
 themselves than upon others. 
 
 It will follow, from the column of ends presented, 
 that there is a difference not only in the quantity 
 of the good to be derived from the action of the 
 faculties in correspondence with their ends, but 
 also in the quality. This is an important point 
 in morals. Every principle of action has con- 
 nected with it its own sensibility that differs in 
 quality from every other. Especially is this true 
 of the moral nature as we require the faculties to 
 act in harmony with that, or in opposition to it. 
 The deepest harmony of our being is that of the 
 W"iU with the Moral Nature ; the most fearful dis- 
 jord is their opposition. From these we have a 
 quality of enjoyment and of suffering wholly dif- 
 ferent from any other, and through which we are 
 able to enter into sympathy with the enjoy menta 
 and sufferings of the highest order of beings. 
 
 Understanding as we now do, what the princi- 
 ples of action are, and how character is formed, 
 we are prepared to see three things. And the 
 first is,|what the highest good of man will be. It 
 will be. the reaultjof-the^oice by him of the high 
 fcflt^^nd, and of an _ adherence to that under al] 
 possible conditions. He is to choose it both as 
 congruous to his nature, and as required by obli* 
 
^^ 
 
 THE HIGHEST GOOD. — THE WHOLE GOOD. 271 
 
 gation ; and if choice under such conditions will 
 not secure the highest good, then our constitution 
 is untrue to itself, and the government of the uni- 
 verse is not moral. This end differs from all 
 others in one thing, and in thus differing puts all 
 men on an essential equality. He who chooses 
 money or fame must work for them, but he who 
 chooses God and his service, by the very act of 
 choice so enters into that which he chooses and 
 takes possession of it that nothing can deprive him 
 of it but his own falling away from the act of 
 choice. 
 
 The second thing we are prepared to see is, 
 what the whole good of man will be. Thp. wholg ^ 
 g[Opd will be from the conspiring forces of hi^L 
 whole nature acting in harmony. The highest 
 good is independent of all that is below it. It 
 may belong to the martyr at the stake. But 
 every principle of action and every suscei)tibility 
 of our nature is legitimate and good in its place. 
 From the action of every one there results a good, 
 and no good is to be rejected unless it comes to 
 be 1 datively, and in its time and place, an evil. 
 " Every creature of God is good, and nothing to 
 be refused, if it be received with thanksgiving.*' 
 The whole good of man will then consist in al) 
 the good, of whatever quality, that can be derived 
 from all the susceptibilities and powers acting 
 harmoniously. 
 
 The third thing we are prepared to see is the 
 
272 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 iH: 
 
 ode in wliich this good is to be attained. Thia 
 ifl by acting in accordance with what I have here- 
 tofore explained in this place as the Law of Limi- 
 tation. This grows immediately out of the Law 
 of the Conditioning and the Conditioned, and ia 
 simply an application to human life, bringing unity 
 into that, of the principle by which God secures 
 unity in the action of the several forces by which 
 the processes of nature are carried on. Throughout 
 the range of forces and faculties that have been pre- 
 sented to you, you have seen that they have to each 
 other the relation of Conditioning and Conditioned 
 by which they are higher and lower ; and now it is 
 to be noticed that the relative force of the lower 
 is always precisely that which is requisite for the 
 best operation of that wliich is higher. Vegetable 
 life, for instance, being what it is, the force of co- 
 hesion and of chemical affinity are just what they 
 should be to enable the roots to penetrate the 
 ^arth and to separate the needed elements. This 
 is the law of the forces throughout, and gives us at 
 once the law of limitation in regard to conduct. 
 A.S the faculties and motive principles are higher 
 or lower, so are the duties, the pleasures, the sat- 
 isfactions connected with them. How far then 
 may we go under any particular principle, as the 
 love of property ? Just so far as will best pro- 
 mote the action of the principles above it. So of 
 the appetites, and all the others. Eat as much 
 as you will, if eating up to that point will best 
 
THE LAW OF LIMITATION. 273 
 
 promote the action of faculties above appetite. 
 Follow tlie fashions, attend parties, balls, theatres 
 as you choose, provided you do nothing to repress 
 or limit your better nature and the power of God's 
 Spirit within you. " We are called unto liberty." 
 We have here, not a rule, but a principle. God 
 does not govern man by rules. He never meant 
 to. He would have them govern their faculties 
 and principles of action, so hable to become a 
 mob, and to bring unity and harmony into them 
 on the same principle on which He governs his 
 universe and brings unity and harmony into that. 
 
 We thus know through the law of the condition- 
 ing and the conditioned what is lower and whiit 
 is higher, and so what is highest. We know 
 therefore through this what the highest good of 
 man is, and, as we have seen, it is to be attained 
 simply by choosing it. Knowing thus the place 
 of each faculty and principle, we know by the 
 Law of Limitation how to hold it in its place and 
 to make it work there ; and therefore we know 
 through that what the whole good of man is and 
 how to attam it. 
 
 If the inquiry be made, as it will be, how those 
 who know nothing of the Law of Limitation can 
 regulate their conduct by it, it may be replied that 
 this is only what takes place in other cases. To 
 all fundamental laws involved in our nature man- 
 Kind conform themselves in some measure, in- 
 stinctively. They were under the law of gravi 
 u 
 
274 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tation, and regulated their movements by it before 
 that hxw was discovered, but had no philosophy 
 of those movements. In tlie same way they con- 
 form to the laws of health and of taste by what 
 may be called physical and rational instincts till, 
 at length, underlying principles are discovered, 
 and then philosophy comes in, enabling them to 
 comprehend processes, and give reasons, and apply 
 tests as they could not otherwise. To some ex- 
 tent there is, no doubt, an immediate and direct 
 apprehension of what is higher and lower in mo- 
 tive and in conduct, and of obligation as conse- 
 quent ujDon that, but that does not give us a phi- 
 losophy. To make progress, here, as elsewhere, 
 we must reach comprehension, and law, and un- 
 derlying reasons where there had seemed to be 
 mere fortuity, or caprice, or impulse, or instinct. 
 
LECTURE Xn. 
 
 ^^liamAIi OBJECTS. — ACTION AND ITS C0N8E- 
 QTJENCES. — PHILOSOPHY OF ACTION FROM THE 
 CONSTITUTION. — NO CHRISTIAN MORAL PHI- 
 LOSOPHY. — CHOICE. — SUPREME ENDS. — SU- 
 PREME PRINCIPLE OF ACTION. — CONSCIENCE. 
 
 — A NATURE AND A NECESSITY AFTER CHOICE. 
 
 — MORAL AFFECTIONS. — MORAL EMOTIONS- 
 
 — RELIGIOUS EMOTIONS. — THE LAW OF CON- 
 STRUCTION. — THE LAW OF CONDUCT. — TEST 
 OF PROGRESS. — POSITION OF MAN AS A WOR- 
 SHIPPER. 
 
 At the commencement of these lectures I said 
 I had three objects in view. One was to present 
 man in his unity. Another, and a principal ob- 
 ject, was to try the experiment of popularizing, in 
 some measure, metaphysical subjects by means of 
 the blackboard. The third was to present some 
 views of my own, perhaps worthy of attention. 
 
 The first of these objects, the presentation of 
 man in his unity, I hope to accomplish before 
 closing this lecture. We have brought him up to 
 the point of choice. The choice itself and ita re- 
 solta remain to be considered. 
 
270 AN OXJTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 In regard to the second object, I am encour- 
 aged. So far as I know it is the first attempt to 
 instruct a popular audience on metaphysical sub- 
 jects through the eye, and from the attention 
 given, and from remarks that I hear, I cannot 
 help thinking that in the hands of one practiced 
 and skillful in its use, the method might be of es- 
 sential aid. Following the clew given by the law 
 of the Conditioning and the Conditioned, vdthout 
 which these lectures could not have been given in 
 this form, what might otherwise seem complex be- 
 comes simple. To one viewing the array before you 
 for the first time it must seem complex, but how 
 simple it is. We have, as you see, a perfect series 
 of related forces and products, from gravitation up. 
 The forces and products themselves cannot be 
 presented to the eye, but their relations can, and 
 by presenting them thus those relations are more 
 clearly apprehended, the attention is held, and the 
 memory is aided. 
 
 As to any views of my own, my wish has been, 
 and will be, to present them fairly, and to have 
 them stand on their own merits. 
 
 It remains to us, as I have said, to speak of ac- 
 tion and its consequences. We have constituted 
 the person, and seen his prerogatives. Now he is 
 to act. But action morally is choice. In that 
 alone is freedom. We are therefore to consider 
 that. The choice must lie between different ends 
 as presented in the last lecture, but in making it 
 
A SUPREME END NECESS.UIY. 277 
 
 we have first to consider whether we will take 
 obhgation into the account or not. If we do that 
 fully and fairly it is impossible for us to choose aa 
 our supreme end any but the highest, or what wo 
 suppose to be so. Hence the necessity of a su- 
 preme end in a system of morals, and the impossi- 
 bility of reaching the full import of obligation, 
 and so of moral law, till we reach that. Tlio 
 point where the highest good is apprehended is 
 the Sinai whence the moral law proceeds. Oblig:i- 
 tion accepted wiU continue to assert itself all the 
 way up, and unless the highest end be chosen 
 there can be no peace. There must be either 
 criminal stupidity or intestine war. " There is 
 no peace, saith my God, to the wicked." 
 
 If obligation be accepted and the highest end 
 be chosen, then we have nothing to do but to let 
 the other principles of action take their places and 
 act variously with varying conditions under the 
 law of Hmitation. If obligation be not accepted, 
 if we ignore or neglect that peculiar part of our 
 nature which lies back of the line and prom}^t9 
 from behind, then we are to make our choice 
 along the whole line below the highest. Doing 
 khis we may seem, but only seem to be afloat, 
 and to have no fixed character ; or we may choose 
 definitely some lower principle and act with en- 
 ergy under it. Doing this last the law of limita- 
 tion for the other principles of action including 
 obligation, which never can properly come under 
 
278 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAK. 
 
 Hiat law, will have a false standard. It will have 
 the principle or end chosen as supreme as ita 
 standard, and all other principles and ends will 
 be subordinated with reference to that. 
 
 If I have stated rightly what the powers of 
 man are and their relation to each other, there 
 must be some object of choice or end that it would 
 be according to his whole nature to choose as 
 supreme. Not properly, or in the highest sense, 
 is that natui-al, though often so called, which is 
 demanded by some one natural principle of action 
 that would overstep its limits ; but that which 
 is demanded by the whole constitution when the 
 powers act in harmony. Rising, as these powers 
 and principles of action do, one above another, 
 and Obligation constantly demanding, when they 
 conilict, that the highest shall prevail, it must be 
 according to the whole natui*e that the highest 
 end, whatever that may be, shall be chosen as 
 supreme. As thus put, it is self evident that what 
 is natural, and what is obligatory, that is, what 
 ought to be done, must coincide. Indeed, obliga- 
 tion, as necessarily affirmed, comes in as a part 
 of nature, and a part too which a comprehen- 
 sive wisdom can least afford to disregard. There 
 must, therefore, be a coincidence of nature, and 
 obligation, and wisdom, in demanding the choice 
 of the highest end. The choice itself is a spirit- 
 ual and free act, above and outside of nature, and 
 may, therefore, be unnatural, and wrong, and fool 
 
NO CHKISTIAN MORAL PHILOSOPHT. 279 
 
 iah. It lies in a region where wisdom and folly, 
 holiness and sin are possible, and where we find 
 laws and results impossible in the region of mattei 
 and of necessity. 
 
 It is because all normal conduct must thus grow 
 out of the constitution, that a philosoph)^ of con- 
 duct, or a Moral Philosophy, is possible. This 
 philosophy will consist in such a knowledge of 
 the constitution of man as God made it, and of the 
 possible objects of choice, as will enable him who 
 has it to say what the supreme end or object of 
 choice should be, and to adjust the whole range of 
 active principles according to the law and end of 
 the being regarded as a whole. To be philosophi- 
 cal, rules for the use of the eye must be derived 
 from a knowledge of its structure and end ; and 
 80 of man as a whole. There can be no philoso- 
 phy of conduct for him that is not derived from a 
 knowledge of his constitution and end. Hence it 
 is only in a modified sense that there can be such 
 a thing as a Christian Moral Philosophy. In 
 strictness there is no such thing. So far as man 
 ^ now a ruin there can be no knowledge of what 
 his restoration would be, nor any philosophy of 
 the mode of it, except through a knowledge of 
 what the constitution originally was, and ought to 
 be. So far as Christianity is a revelation it is not 
 science. It is to be simply interpreted, and ac- 
 cepted. So far as men are govern-id authoritatively 
 by the precepts of Christianity there is no philos- 
 
280 AK OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 opliy. Obedience is either slavish, or from faith. 
 So far as Christianity requires special duties they 
 must be duties demanded by a right adjust- 
 ment of our powers in the new relations in which 
 Christianity places us. If Christianity be not 
 fundamentally in accord with our original consti- 
 tution, and will not restore man to a true man- 
 hood, and the highest manhood, we cannot accept 
 it. Hence a true moral science will, and must be, 
 independent of revelation, and will be a test of 
 anything claiming to be that, for nothing that can 
 be shown to be really in opposition, either to the 
 reason or to the moral nature of man, can be from 
 God. Say if you please, that on this groimd man 
 is incapable of constructing a moral science. Be 
 it so. The past would almost seem to justify the 
 assertion. Still, we are not required to call that 
 science which is not science, but is either impulse, 
 or instinct, or faith. Certainly philosophy is for 
 the maturity of the race. Certainly human life, 
 not the life of children only, but of men, and of 
 the most enlightened men, ought to be largely 
 controlled by authority and by faith. It befits 
 our condition, and there is no more natural or en- 
 nobling principle of action than faith. 
 
 Passing now as was proposed, to Choice ana its 
 results, the question is what supreme end we shall 
 choose. To this different answers are given and 
 earnestly contended for, though often meaning 
 
SUPREME PRINCIPLE OF ACTION. 281 
 
 fche same thing. Oue says perfection is the thing 
 to be chosen. In this he includes, no doubt, that 
 result in the sensibility which comes from perfec- 
 tion, for mere perfection of being or of adjustment 
 without activity or results can avail nothing. An 
 other says that virtue is to be chosen. It is to be 
 chosen for itself, and has in it its own reward. Be- 
 ing itself an act of choice, and wholly in the will, 
 it is not easy to see how virtue can be chosen as a 
 supreme end, or an end at all ; but the thing pri- 
 marily regarded here is right activity, the state 
 and results being taken for granted. When those 
 holding this speak, as they constantly do and 
 must, of virtue as its own reward, they mean by 
 reward a result in the sensibility wholly different 
 from the virtue itself. Another says that the 
 thing to be really chosen and valued for ourselves 
 and others, is the satisfaction resulting from per- 
 fection and from virtuous activity, and which can 
 be had in no other way. He says that a rational 
 beiag comprehending his own capacities and the 
 capacities of others would choose as his end the 
 highest good of all beiugs capable of good. Here 
 the result is primarily regarded, taking for granted 
 the state and the activity. 
 
 But that these persons mean the same thing, 
 will be more evident, if, mstead of inquiring what 
 we are to choose as an end, we iuquire what prin- 
 ciple of action we are to make supreme. Those 
 making the same principle of action supreme will 
 
282 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAJN. 
 
 have the same radical character, will really choose 
 the same supreme end, and it is a pity they should 
 dispute about words. But in regard to this there 
 is substantial agreement, at least among those 
 claiming to be chnstians. They agree that the 
 principle that should be made supreme is Love. 
 But what is this ? Here men differ. I suppose 
 it is rational and moral love, and by this I mean 
 more than sentiment, or emotion, or affinity, or 
 than choice from these. It is to be distinguished 
 A:om the natural affections that come before 
 choice, and from complacent love that comes after 
 it. It is not, as so many suppose, benevolence as a 
 sentiment, but as an act of choice and of will. 
 Central to it is a rational choice of the good of 
 those loved for its own sake, and those loved must 
 include not only those attractive to us and in 
 whom we can feel complacency, but the debased, 
 and evil and unthankful, and those manifesting 
 personal enmity. In short, it must be a love like 
 that of God in giving his Son for us ; like that of 
 the Son in dying for us, and in praying for his 
 murderers on the cross. This love of God for men 
 was a holy love, but in it he sought their good, 
 and not the doing of right for the sake of the right. 
 Since, then, men are so much better agreed about 
 the principle of action that should be supreme 
 than about the end, though they really amount to 
 khe same thing, we wiU start from that ; and if 
 we would represent to the eye the different results, 
 
CONSCIENCE. 
 
 283 
 
 as we choose the highest as supreme or one that is 
 lower, we must make two columns. To do this 
 we recur to the column of possible principles of 
 action presented in the last lecture, any one of 
 which may be made supreme, and construct the 
 columns thus, making Moral Love supreme in the 
 one column, and Ambition in the other. 
 
 
 OQ 
 
 WOBSHIP 
 
 and 
 
 Reuoious 
 Emotioits. 
 
 Power to 
 Glory, 
 Honor, 
 Blessing, 
 j ascriptiow of 
 
 Praisk. 
 Thanksgiv- 
 ing, 
 Adokatiok, 
 
 /Peack. 
 
 MOBAL J 
 
 < Jot, 
 Emotions. ( 
 
 \HOPK, 
 
 MOBAL 
 
 Arno- 
 
 V^ TION8. 
 
 /^MOBAL 
 
 ) Indignation. 
 I Complacent 
 vLovE. 
 
 MORAL LOVE. 
 
 O 
 
 /'WoBSHiP. Idoultbt 
 
 MORAIi 
 
 Emo- •< 
 
 TIOBrS. 
 
 VAjrarr, 
 
 Pbidx, 
 
 Jot, 
 
 HOFX, 
 
 H 
 •J 
 
 B 
 
 MOBAL 
 
 Affeo--< 
 
 TIONB. 
 
 ^BKVBXOSi 
 
 Wbath, 
 Hatbed, 
 Envt, 
 . Emxtlatiov, 
 
 AMBITION. 
 
 You will see that I have placed conscience along- 
 side of this whole movement, as pertaining to it 
 all. Hitherto I have not spoken of Conscience, be- 
 cause, as I understand it, it does not appear except 
 in connection with our own moral choices. Hav- 
 ing a moral nature we might judge correctly of 
 the moral conduct of others, but that would not he 
 
284 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 conscience. Conscience is our moral consciousness 
 in connection with our own choices — not our out- 
 ward acts, but our choices. It is at work previous 
 to choice affirming obligation to choose in accor- 
 dance with that which is highest ; and after choice 
 it gives us, in connection with the ideas of merit 
 and demerit, the feelings of self -approbation, and of 
 guilt and remorse. L ike c onsciousness it is a knoiv- 
 ing with. We know our choices, and together 
 with the knowledge of them we have through 
 Conscience, a knowledge of their moral quality, 
 and so a judgment concerning them. It is there- 
 fore strictly personal, and resembles the tribunal 
 of God in judging of choices and motives. Its 
 precise nature and office are given by the Apostle 
 Paul when he says, " For when the Gentiles 
 which have not the law do by nature the things 
 contained in the law, these having not the law, 
 are a law unto themselves. Which show the 
 work of the law written in their hearts, their 
 conscience also hearing witness^ and their thoughts 
 the meanwhile accusing or else excusing one an- 
 other J^ Here we see that the law is one thing 
 and the conscience another. But the law is a law 
 within us by which we become a law to ourselves, 
 and what can that be but the moral nature, as I 
 have said, affirming obligation and enabling us to 
 judge generally of moral subjects, while, in its re- 
 lations to us personally and when we come to act, 
 this same moral nature becomes conscience, aad 
 
MB. MARTINEAU AND CONSCIENCE. 285 
 
 Dears witness to the moral quality of our choices, 
 and either accuses or excuses us for what we do. 
 The acts are done by the man, the " bearing wit- 
 uess," and the " accusing " and " excusing," are 
 done by the conscience. 
 
 We know our choices, and also whether they 
 eire or are not in accordance with what we believe 
 obligation requires. It is to this last, that con- 
 Bcience " witnesses," and then either excuses or 
 accuses us. This makes the office of conscience 
 wholly different from that assigned it by Mr. 
 Martiueau. He says that " when the whole se- 
 ries of springs of action has been experienced, the 
 feeling or ' knowledge with ourselves,' of their rel- 
 ative rank constitutes the individual conscience."^ 
 But this seems to me merely preliminary, and not 
 he action of conscience at all. Let a man judge 
 ■ikS he may of the springs of action, there is no 
 " accusing " or " excusing " connected with it. 
 He judges of them as of other things, and how is 
 he to know if he judges wrongly ? But every man 
 must know whether he chooses and acts in accor- 
 dance with his sense of obligation. ISIr. Martineau 
 places the office of Conscience at the point where 
 we judge of springs of action. I place it at the 
 ^oint where we judge of our choices as conformed 
 or not conformed to the demands of obligation. In 
 his view it has nothing to do with the wiU ; in my 
 V lew it respects the action of the will, and that 
 
 ^ RevUu) of WhtweWs Morality, p. 17. 
 
286 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 only. Taking cognizance only of choices and mo- 
 tives, the judgment of conscience has nothing to do 
 with means, or opportunity, or outward failure or 
 success ; and if we deal honestly with it, it will 
 accord with, and anticipate the judgment of God.^ 
 
 And not only do we have conscience given in 
 connection with a choice which determines the 
 drift of character, but also Moral Affections. The 
 lifference between the Natural and the Moral 
 Affections is, that the Natural Affections spring 
 up before choice, and so independently of it that 
 we are not responsible for their existence, though 
 we are for their regulation ; while the Moral Af- 
 fections spring up only after choice, and are so 
 dependent upon it that we are responsible for their 
 existence and character. In a sense they are nat- 
 ural. They are as uniform and necessary after a 
 supreme choice as the natural affections are before 
 that. They become spontaneous, are a part of the 
 character, and, as pertaining to the moral nature, 
 are deeper and more influential than the affections, 
 merely natural. This has not been understood aa 
 it should be. 
 
 I have just said that the Moral Affections are 
 A/necessary after choice, and from this we see the 
 / central point held by choice in our being. It is 
 the point of Freedom. Everywhere below that, aa 
 I showed you, the movement, whatever it may be, 
 IP by necessity, and I showed you the harmony 
 there is between freedom arid necessity as thnii 
 
 ^ See Appendix D. 
 
NECESSITY AFTER CHOICE. 287 
 
 existing, and that necessity must be a condition 
 for the stable, and consistent, and intelligent ac- 
 tion of a free being. It must stand below him. 
 and he must rule over it, and by the very means 
 of it. But we now pass over into another region of 
 necessity, and, if you please, into what may be 
 'V\ealled another region of nature. A man may, or 
 /y may not, make the love of country supreme. That 
 depends upon choice. But if he does that, he 
 muit have a complacent love for every man into 
 whose face he looks, and who, he knows, has a 
 similar love. This is by necessity, but it is in 
 consequence of choice. And again, let this same 
 man see a traitor, and he must feel moral indigna- 
 tion. He mu%t feel it, and will know that he has 
 a right to feel it, and ought to feel it, though it 
 has oft n been a puzzle to see how that which ia 
 thus njcessary and spontaneous could be justly 
 commrjaded, or could be a part of moral character 
 It is r* part of moral character ; nothing more so 
 there is nothing for which we are more fully re- 
 sponsible, and we see how this comes to be. 
 
 We may see also that, as the necessity in nature 
 that is before freedom is necessary in order that 
 man may rule over nature ; so also is the neces- 
 sity after freedom of consequences within himself 
 necessary in order that God may rule over him by 
 any system of natural consequences, or indeed by 
 reward and punishment in any form. If the will- 
 ful lie or &aud did not necessitate a stain ; if the 
 
^ 
 
 288 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 violation of obligation did not necessitate a sense 
 of guilt ; there could be nothing in himself that 
 would lead him to avoid the violation of obhga- 
 tion, or by which he could know the meaning of 
 punishment. The sense of guilt and the remorse 
 are not the punishment, but without them no suf- 
 fering inflicted for the vindication of authority, 
 or for sustaining the majesty of law, can be known 
 as punishment. So it is that freedom lies between 
 • two forms of necessity, the one necessary to the 
 existence of freedom, the other to the moral gov- 
 ernment of free beings. j . i.HiJ 
 
 We will now consider in their order the neces- 
 sary results, first of choosing as a supreme end 
 that which is highest, or, which is the same thing, 
 of making supreme the highest principle of action. 
 This is set do^vn in the scheme aa jVIoral |-«ove. 
 We will then consider the results of making^jAm- 
 bition supreme. ^ 
 
 Of Moral Love the first necessary result wiU 
 be the Moral Affections. /Complacent Love and 
 JTHoral Indignation may be said to include all the 
 moral affections, the indignation being evolved 
 from the love when the occasion calls for it, as its 
 opposite pole. In this love it is that we find the 
 proper, and the only enduring basis of friendship 
 %% distinguished from mere aflinity, and from com- 
 binations on the ground of interest. With mu- 
 tual complacency on the ground of moral charac- 
 ter, involving confidence, there is a foundation foi 
 
MORAL EMOTIONS. 289 
 
 a permanent social state, and for the highest con- 
 ceivable good from such a state ; and there can be 
 no other. 
 
 The Moral Emotions, as Hope, Joy, and Peace, 
 presuppose the moral affections as the fragrance 
 presupposes the flower. These, and the religious 
 emotions oqually, are the most complex products 
 of the mind, the effluence of all its faculties in 
 their highest activity. Intellect, sensibility, choice, 
 are all involved. Hope implies de sire unsatisfied. 
 It is mingled desire and expectation ; but joy ia 
 JPruition itself in the highest form of the Sensibility. 
 It is the rational spirit in the consciousness of its 
 own perfection and of the attainment of its ends. 
 If those ends have been reached through struggle, 
 the moment of victory is preeminently one of joy ; 
 but if the struggle is over and all the forces 
 within and without with which the spirit has to 
 deal, move with a balanced activity as the quiet 
 heavens, then the joy settles into Peace. 
 
 To the Moral Emotions which must thus enter 
 into and pervade the life of one who chooses the 
 highest supreme end, the Scriptures give the high 
 place which we see they have as I have presented 
 them, and which they must have in any true sys- 
 tem of philosophy. Their Hope is a hope that ia 
 " an anchor to the soul." Their Joy is an " un- 
 ppeakable " joy ; and any sacrifice needed for its 
 ittainraent they justify by the example of Him, 
 * who, for the joy that wa^ set before him, eii' 
 
290 AS OUTLINE STUDY OF MAX. 
 
 dur«'(l the cross, despising the shame." Their 
 Peace also is a peace that may " be as a rivf^r," 
 and that " passeth all understanding." 
 
 The Religious Emotions come next, and are the_ 
 crowning element in worship. These differ from 
 the moral emotions as called forth in view of God 
 and his attributes ; and as generally requiring, in 
 their highest form, volition as well as choice. 
 Hope and joy and peace are from choice witkout 
 volition, but thanksgiving, and praise, and bless- 
 ing, and all forms of ascription, in which alone the 
 religious emotions find their culmination, require 
 not only Intellect, and Sensibility, and Choice, 
 but also Volition. It is thus that in worship, the 
 lower animal nature being held in reverent abey- 
 ance, everything that is truly man, his whole in- 
 tellectual and moral and spiritual nature, are 
 brought to their highest activity. The Will, as 
 central, brings the whole being before God and 
 offers it to Him, the emotions going up as incense. 
 
 In the moral affections and emotions thus origi- 
 nated, there will be an immediate good consonant 
 with our being, but the action of conscience in 
 connection with them is not to be overlooked. 
 Conscience is not only a witness to record, and a 
 judge to acquit, it also approves and rewards. 
 Connected with it, is its own sensibility having in 
 it monition and prophecy, and an element of 
 peculiar satisfaction that gives the key note to 
 *^ha1 joy of the spirit that springs from the har» 
 
AMBITION MADE SUPREME. 291 
 
 mony of all its powers. Without this there may 
 be what shall be called joy, but it is of another 
 quality. There may be " the joy of the hypo- 
 crite " which " is but for a moment," but there 
 can be no foundation for adequate and permanent 
 joy except as the voice of conscience gives assur- 
 ance of the harmony of the whole soul with itself 
 and with God. No outward prosperity can avail 
 anything, while this Mordecai sits at the KingV 
 gate and refuses to recognize it as legitimate. 
 
 So is it that all the powers are harmonized in tne 
 choice of the highest supreme end ; so is it that wis- 
 dom and duty conspire in leading us to that choice. 
 
 We next turn to the other column, and to the 
 necessary results of choosing any end lower than 
 the highest. 
 
 We will suppose power to be made the supreme 
 end, and so the love of power, or Ambition, to be 
 chosen as the supreme principle of action. Let 
 this be done, and the moral affections placed in 
 the diagram above ambition will spring up of 
 necessity. Let another come into competition 
 with one thus choosing power, and there will be 
 emulation. Let his rival surpass him, and there 
 will be envy ; and there is no hatred, or wrath, 
 Lr revenge that will not stir in a man and become 
 settled passion, issuing in every form of cruelty 
 and crime as the pursuit of power becomes intense, 
 and as others become obstacles in the way. Con- 
 science and humanity and other natural and beau- 
 
292 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tiiiil principles of action may have wide acopo, 
 but if the love of power be really supreme, whep 
 the occasion demands it, they will give way, and 
 violence, or treachery, or whatever means may be 
 needed to secure the end will be employed. 
 
 Of the Moral Emotions, Hope and Joy will be 
 the same in name as when the right supreme end 
 IB chosen. The pursuit of any end implies hope, 
 and the attainment of it joy, or at least some kind 
 of satisfaction ; but in quantity, and quality, and 
 permanence, and in their affinities, there may be 
 a difference heaven wide. And such difference 
 there is. Legitimate joy abides, and either be- 
 comes the peace of which I have spoken, or alter- 
 nates with it. What man needs is a joy that 
 may settle into peace, a peace that may at any 
 time rise into joy, as the floods may, now " clap 
 their hands," and now reflect the quiet image of 
 heaven. But the joy of a selfish ambition, exclud- 
 ing, as it must, a sense of dependence on God and 
 the love of others, will connect itseK with pride 
 and vanity and self -idolatry, and these are incom- 
 patible with peace. 
 
 If we pass up to the religious nature, it is clearly 
 impossible that one who makes power his supreme 
 end should have in his worship of God the element 
 that is central to all true worship, that is the sub- 
 mission of the vdll. There may be for such an 
 one much that is emotive and sesthetic in some- 
 thing that is called religion and worship. In the 
 
IDOLATRY. 293 
 
 absence of the spiritual elements of submiasioB 
 and self-consecration there will be special tempta- 
 tion to appeal to the senses, and to the taste 
 through art ; but that a man making power his 
 supreme end should worship God in spirit and in 
 truth would be a contradiction, because, to make 
 anything aside from God supreme either in the 
 affections or the will, is essential idolatry. It is 
 for this reason that idolatry is placed where it is, 
 in the diagram. It must be there if there be 
 religion at all ; and history has shown that it ia 
 impossible for men to divest themselves wholly of 
 their religious nature. 
 
 The direct results just mentioned, of choosing 
 as supreme any object or principle of action below 
 the highest, are as inevitable as those under any 
 law of nature. I call these results direct, because 
 they involve the action of those faculties that look 
 directly at their objects without reference to the 
 action of the Moral Nature that now becomes 
 Conscience, and that acts only with reference to 
 the character of the previous action of the mind 
 itself. It is the peculiarity of the moral nature, 
 as shown by its position in the diagram, that it 
 presupposes direct voluntary action either con- 
 templated or performed in view of objects sup- 
 posed to have in them a good : the idea of a good 
 and the action of the faculties respecting it being 
 thus the underlying condition of the action of 
 the moral nature. This gives us the poaitioD 
 
294 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 of the moral nature and the key to the problems 
 respecting it. Its action, sometimes called reflex, 
 and lis related to previous action really so, is yet 
 direct upon its onvti object, which is the character 
 of voluntary action. If the choice be in accord- 
 ance with the highest good, the conscience will 
 approve ; if not, it will condemn ; and this action 
 13 as necessary after choice as any of the results al- 
 ready mentioned. This it is that makes the posi- 
 tion of the wrong-doer so fearful. It is that tho 
 moral nature is a nature^ a part of himself acting 
 by necessity, so that there is no escape. The bat- 
 teries of conscience, it will be seen, are planted all 
 along the line, and at any point where there is 
 wrong-doing, as there ia at every point when a 
 wrong supreme end has been chosen, they are 
 ready to open fire. If these batteries may be 
 Bilenced for a time, they are yet consciously there ; 
 the act of silencing them but charges them more 
 highly, and the only possible ground of a peace that 
 may at any time rise into joy is the perfect accord 
 of the moral nature, acting as Conscience, with the 
 Will. Let the Conscience act so in the light that its 
 decisions shall coincide with the law of God, thus 
 becoming legitimately Law, and let the Will act as 
 Love, and then the Law of Love will reign, and 
 there will be conscious, permanent, and universal 
 peace. But let the WiU, on the other hand, fail to 
 need the monitions of Conscience, and no result 
 under any law of nature can be more certain thau 
 the disorder and misery that must ensue. 
 
THE LAW OF CONSTBUCTION. 295 
 
 We have now completed our work in its details, 
 and the results have been presented to the eye in 
 parts. In doing this we have needed to know the 
 law of construction for the universe, and the law 
 of conduct for man. The law of construction is 
 the law of the conditioning and the conditioned. 
 This, I have said, implies throughout the relation 
 of lower and higher, and that relation has been 
 indicated by their position on the board. This 
 relation of conditioning is simply that of neces- 
 sary presupposition without causation ; and if any 
 question, as some may, and plausibly too in cer- 
 tain cases, whether that which conditions is always 
 lower, they may express the relation of the two by 
 placing the condition back of the conditioned, as I 
 did in my lectures four years since, and as is done 
 in Appendix A, in " The Law of Love." But in 
 either case it is the law of the conditionins: and 
 the conditioned that is the law of construction. 
 So is it with the works of man ; so, as far as we 
 can understand them, with the works of God. 
 This law holds throughout, but when it brings ua 
 up to the point of choice we need a Law of Con- 
 duct. Construction is for the sake of conduct. 
 Conduct is higher, and in order to be philosophi- 
 cal it must not only grow out of the construction 
 by instinct, or impulse, or faith, but must be seen 
 »X) grow out of it, and be adopted on that ground. 
 As adopted by faith it may be rational, but to be 
 philosophical it must be seen to grow out of the 
 
296 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 construction. It is the business of a rational and 
 free being, not to create anything as God did, but 
 to construct a course of conduct. And this he is 
 to do from the same principle, and on the same 
 model as God has constructed the universe. The 
 {.rinciple is Love. This we learn from the Word 
 of God. The model is a variety of forces, broader 
 and less broad, which may be represented by a 
 pyramid, the forces being regulated in their rela- 
 tion to each other by the Law of Limitation. 
 This we learn from the works of God. And these 
 two give us the Law of Conduct. Conduct is to 
 spring from Rational Love, the man, meantime, 
 being brought under obligation through the con- 
 science to regulate the various impulsive principles 
 of actioD according to the Law of Limitation. 
 Combining thus the word and the works of God, 
 we gain a tru^ philosophy both of Nature and of 
 human life. 
 
 As has beep said, the results of our work have 
 been presented to the eye in parts, let us now look 
 at them as a whole. That we may do this we 
 bring together in oue diagram, the several parts 
 already presented.^ Viewing them thus we have 
 only to begin at gravitation and follow the series 
 up to see how perfectly the laws of construction 
 and of limitation, as they have been explained, 
 apply in every case ; and how simple the serios is. 
 These laws apply up to the point ^^j*^ th^ I*\^ 
 
 1 See diagram at the «»» 
 
THE TEST OF PROGRESS. 297 
 
 of Conduct is needed. Tlien the Law of Con- 
 Btruction stops, but that of Limitation continues 
 throughout. The Law of Conduct is not less sim 
 [)\ii in its principle than tlie others, nor, except 
 from a want of simplicity and thorough honesty 
 in ourselves or others, should we find it difficult of 
 application. God would have men govern theii 
 lives on the same principle on which He governs 
 the miiverse. Let them do that, and their lives 
 will be brought into harmony with Him, into har- 
 mony with themselves, and ultimately into har- 
 mony with all their surroundings. Thus men 
 wiU confer upon others whatever of good they are 
 capable of conferring, and ^vill enjoy whatever of 
 good they are capable of enjoying tlirough the sus- 
 ceptibilities and powers of their being, acting ac- 
 cording to its law. 
 
 Looking at the series as a whole we find a test 
 of the progress of the race. Civilization is not 
 progress. It belongs in the lower part of the dia- 
 gram, in the region of the appetites and desires 
 and of Beauty. By ministering to luxury and art 
 and to the senses merely, civilization may retard 
 progress. It has often done so. There is no 
 more formidable obstacle to progress than a cor- 
 rupt and effete civilization. As compared with 
 that a state of barbarism is hopeful. But the 
 things which belong to the Spirit are in another 
 and a higher region, and it is here that we find 
 the test of progress. That test is not in the ex- 
 
298 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 tent of knowledge, or in the progress of civiliza- 
 tion, but in the extent to which the masses are 
 under the control of that which is highest in the 
 diagram, and the extent to which they adopt a 
 law of conduct in harmony with the conscience. 
 CiviUzation should, and always will ultimately 
 accompany the paramount activity of the higher 
 powers ; but there may be individuals, as the an- 
 cient patriarchs, and communities, high in spiritual 
 growth, who are yet but partially civilized, while 
 there may be an advanced, and refined, and con- 
 temptuous civilization that is contemptible and 
 weU-nigh hopeless. It is Christianity alone, awak- 
 ening into hfe and regulating the higher powers, 
 that can furnish the conditions of permanent prog- 
 ress ; and nowhere does a spiritual Christianity 
 find an opposition so intrenched and so bitter as in 
 the bosom of such civilizations and from the idola- 
 tries consonant with them. 
 
 In closing, I ask your attention to the complex 
 nature of that which stands highest on the scheme 
 as worship ; and to the position of man as a wor- 
 ehipper. 
 
 It will be seen that the affections and acts in- 
 volved in worship are conditioned on aU that ia 
 below them. From this it will foUow that wor- 
 ship is the highest act which man can perform, 
 and that his nature does not reach its fuU expres- 
 sion without that. Take, for instance, the intelli- 
 gent ascription of praise to God, and it wiU be 
 
woBaHiP. 299 
 
 found to presuppose and involve the presence and 
 activity of every element of our proper humanity. 
 lb presupposes the Intellect, and the recognition 
 by that of the being of God, and of his perfections 
 so manifested as to be worthy of praise. It pre- 
 supposes the Sensibility, and that it is awake to 
 every manifestation of the divine perfections. 
 The expression of praise is, indeed, a manifesta- 
 tion of the SensibiUty itself in an exalted state. It 
 presupposes also the Will, and that too in joyful 
 submission. Without the submission of the WiU, 
 there may be external acts of homage through in- 
 terest or fear, but there can be no true worship. 
 With the Intellect, the Sensibility, and the Will, 
 thus active in view of the highest possible object, 
 there could not fail to be complacent love, and, 
 based on that, in connection with the filial rela- 
 tion, joy, and peace. These being given, the wiU 
 of a rational being could hardly fail to be put 
 forth in the form of choice to praise God, and in 
 the form of vohtion to give to that praise its high- 
 est outward expression. The ascription of praise 
 would thus go up from the whole of his being a? 
 the odor goes up from the plant All that is be- 
 low in the plant, every leaf and rootlet, contributes 
 to the fragrance of its blossom. And so it is with 
 praise, and with all rignt forms of worship. They 
 are the complete and full expression of our proper 
 humanity carried up to its nighest point. Failing 
 io reach this point, humanity fails of its proper 
 
300 AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN. 
 
 amplitude and upward growth ; there is reaot:on 
 downward, and the whole being becomes dwarfed 
 and perverted. 
 
 But in worshipping God man does not act for 
 himself alone. He is the priest of nature. Stand- 
 ing at its head, and he alone recognizing the Crea- 
 tor, it is only through him that the praise that 
 goes up from all parts of the works of God can 
 find intelligent expression. From the beginning 
 of time those works have been an expression of 
 the perfections of God. As we now look at the 
 march of the creation that expression was rela- 
 tively feeble at first, but has become more full 
 and pronounced at every new epoch. With the 
 progress in time there has also been progress up- 
 ward in the manifestation of those forces and 
 products which we have in the series before us, 
 but until man came the expression of praise did 
 not become conscious and articulate. It was for 
 him to gather it up and give it voice, and it is one 
 of his high and peculiar prerogatives to do this. 
 He needs but to have an ear rightly attuned, as 
 was that of hJTn who heard the heavens declaring 
 the glory of God, or that of the Apostle John, in 
 Patmos, and to put it to the universe as God has 
 made it, to hear a low voice coming up from gravi- 
 tation giving praise to God. And then he would 
 hear that voice rising as he should go up through 
 Cohesion, and Chemical Affinity, and Vegetable 
 life, and Animal Life, and Rational Life, and the 
 
WORSHIP. 301 
 
 provision made for every living thing, until he 
 would come into full sympathy with the Apostle, 
 and, with him, be ready to say in regard to the 
 whole universe of God, " And every creature which 
 is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the 
 earth ; and such as are in the sea, and all that are 
 in them, heard I saying, blessing, and honor, and 
 glory, and power, be unto Him that sitteth upon 
 the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever.'* 
 
APPEITDIX. 
 
 APPENDIX A. 
 
 The relation of inorganic matter to vegetables, and of 
 vegetables to animals, as indicated in the text, demands 
 attention from its bearing on the doctrine of final causes. 
 Not agreeing with President Porter in his great work, 
 that we have an intuition of final cause, or end, as uni- 
 versal and necessary as that of an efficient cause, I did 
 not place it among the intuitions in the text. Omitting 
 it there, it did not fall in my way to treat of it specifi- 
 cally otherwise. I now call attention to it not only 
 from its importance as an aid to scientific inquiry and 
 from its place as essential to any rational explanation 
 of this universe, but because, since this book was pub- 
 lished, a new phase of the denial of that doctrine has 
 become prominent. That phase has come in connection 
 with the doctrine of evolution, and consists in a denial 
 that adaptation within an organism implies design. 
 This denial, covering so wide and prominent a field, is 
 then assumed, directly or impliedly, to extend to a 
 denial of all design in nature. 
 
 The ideas of adaptation and of design naturally go to- 
 gether. By some eminent writers they have not been 
 distinguished, but they are so far not the same that in- 
 
APPENDIX. 303 
 
 stances of adaptation without design are not infrequent. 
 As an instance of this, Paley mentions the skin of the 
 dog-fish used to polish wood. A natural cave is adapted 
 to furnish shelter, but was not designed for that. Such 
 instances are, however, accidental and trivial. The more 
 recent denial is made in connection with the doctrine of 
 evolution, and covers a large part of the adaptations 
 found in organic nature. 
 
 Adaptation in organized nature may be divided into 
 three classes. There may be, first, an adaptation of the 
 parts of an organized whole to each other. In this case 
 we may conceive of an adaptive principle or force within 
 an organism that shall strive towards the perfection of 
 the whole, and produce modifications conducive to that. 
 The presence of such a force in the organism itself, 
 which cannot be supposed to be intelligent, would seem 
 to be indicated when the ends of a broken bone are knit 
 together, when a new joint is formed, or when the ar- 
 teries adjacent to one that is tied are enlarged. 
 
 Again, there may be an adaptation of environment 
 to organization, so that the environment shall act upon 
 the organism in the way of causation. It is thus that 
 Professor Tyndall accounts for the eye. He supposes 
 it to have been formed gradually by the action of light 
 upon the more susceptible pigment cells of an organism 
 vaguely sensitive all over. So the horse, with five toes 
 originally, has gradually come, through the action of 
 environment upon organism to have but one. So, too, 
 whales and porpoises, said to have been at one time 
 land animals, are supposed to hav^e had their organism 
 gradually and during long ages so modified that they 
 live in the water. 
 
304 APPENDIX. 
 
 From these two classes of adaptation we turn to the 
 tliinl. In this we find an adaptation of system to system 
 without causation, but simply as one system avails itself 
 of another as its condition. Ajjsrreijated matter in cer- 
 tain combinations is a condition of vegetables, but no 
 one can suppose there is in that anything that produces 
 the adaptations within the vegetables, or that there is in 
 either any causative power to produce that relation by 
 which one avails itself of the other. But as between 
 vegetables and animals the case is still stronger. They 
 mutually modify the atmosphere for the benefit of each 
 other. Only a designing power outside of both could 
 have arranged for this. But more striking still is the 
 fact that animal life is wholly dependent on vegetables 
 for its sustenance. Here we have livinoj orsanisras not 
 merely ministering to themselves and providing for the 
 continuance of their species, but doing their great work, 
 the only work that really has any value, by ministering 
 to an order of beings wholly above and outside of them- 
 selves. By no possibility could such an adaptation have 
 been originated by either the vegetable or the animal, 
 and it is too varied and extended and precise, as well as 
 too important in its results, to have originated from any 
 other than an intelligent and designing cause outside of 
 both. 
 
 Cases similar in principle are numerous where there 
 is no organism. "What adaptation, for example, can be 
 more perfect than that of the air to evaporate water, 
 and freshen it when salt, and to bear it up in clouds ? 
 Here is not only an adaptation that is perfect, but a 
 function that is essential to both vejretable and animal 
 life, and yet any interaction between the air and the 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 305 
 
 water affecting their inner structure is out of the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 Can, then, the adaptations of this universe be ac- 
 counted for without design ? That is the whole ques- 
 tion. The adaptations themselves no one denies. We 
 say, No. Whatever plausibility there may be in partic^ 
 ular cases, we regard as wholly inadequate the attempt, 
 made in connection with evolution, to account without 
 design for adaptation as found in any whole department 
 of nature. This we say with no reference to the ques- 
 tion whether evolution itself, if it be supposed to in- 
 clude a system of favorable interaction between organism 
 and environment, does not necessarily involve design in 
 its widest form. We think it does. But be this as it 
 may, we say that, as within the organism, no such at- 
 tempt can account for the valves in the veins, or for the 
 second set of teeth, or for the finger nails, or for the 
 contrivance for pulling down the lower jaw. As be- 
 tween organism and environment, we say that no sup- 
 position of interaction between them can save from 
 puerility the attempt to account thus for the formation 
 of even one eye, much less of two eyes in the right 
 place, or for the long neck of the giraffe, or the trunk 
 of the elephant. But leaving these departments of na- 
 ture out of the question, we say that the cases men- 
 tioned under the third head are wholly untouched by 
 any form of evolution or transformism. No inner nisus, 
 or felt want, or habit of use, or any kind of blind appe- 
 tency or force can account for that relation by which 
 sensitive and conscious life on this earth, the only life 
 that has in itself any value, is made wholly dependent 
 \ipon the vegetable kingdom for its existence. 
 
306 APPENDIX. 
 
 APPENDIX B. 
 
 The idea of Being stands by itself, and, as entering 
 into all thought, requires further elucidation. Mere 
 feeling, or sense impression, or instinctive tendency, is 
 not thought. To think implies a thinker, and a rational 
 thinker, to he, must know himself to be. That he should 
 know himself to be enters into our very conception of 
 a rational being, and he cannot affirm this to himself 
 without having the idea of being in general. He who 
 says, I am, says virtually, I am a being. He thus does 
 what is done in all predication. He puts the individual 
 under a class, and so the generic idea is involved. If it 
 be denied that the idea of Being in general is thus in- 
 volved in the idea which the thinker must have of his 
 own beino- it is to be said further that to think is to 
 judge, and that this idea is involved in the use of the 
 verb to he as the copula in our judgments. No one can 
 understand the propositions, I am. Gold is ductile. Snow 
 is white, without having the general notion of Being as 
 it is involved in the copula. 
 
 But if the general idea of Being is thus implied in 
 thought, is indeed a condition for it, how is it possible it 
 should be given by thought ? This question it is diffi- 
 cult to answer without supposing it to be innate, or, as 
 I should prefer to say, connate. It would seem as if it 
 must be elementary in the very first movements of a ra- 
 tional intellect, as instinct is in the first movements of a 
 creature governed by instinct. Accordingly, this is the 
 view of it taken by Rosmini in his work on " The Origin 
 
APPENDIX. 307 
 
 of Ideas." In the common view, the necessary ideas 
 are grouped together. No one of them is properly in- 
 nate, but by the constitution of the mind they are im- 
 mediately and necessarily formed, when the occasion 
 occurs. 
 
 But according to Rosmini this one idea of Beino-, as 
 necessarily involved in thought, is primitive and innate, 
 while the others, though necessarily given, are not 
 necessary to thought, and so are not, in the same sense, 
 innate. 
 
 APPENDIX C. 
 
 "We are now prepared to separate the necessary ideas 
 and beliefs given by the Intellect alone, more clearly 
 than they have been from the other mental furniture. 
 This needs to be done. 
 
 The ideas are generally called concepts, and are 
 treated as such, but are wholly different from them in 
 their origin and functions. A concept, as its name im- 
 ports, is a gathering together. It is the result of ab- 
 straction and generalization. But these ideas, as those 
 of being, space, time, are simple, and are given at once 
 without abstraction or generalization. These ideas, too, 
 give rise, as concepts do not, to necessary truths and be- 
 liefs, as that a body must be in space, and an event in 
 time. Of these truths the primitive form is indeed sin- 
 gular ; a body must be in S2")ace, but the passage from 
 this to the universal truth that all bodies must be in 
 
303 APPENDIX. 
 
 space is by uo generalization or induction in any proper 
 sense of those words. It is immediate and necessary, 
 and no experience or repetition of instances is needeA 
 to confirm its truth. It is to be said further that, while 
 concepts are the subjects of our reasonings, these ideas 
 and truths enter as elementary into all our reasonings. 
 We conclude, then, that these ideas and truths are 
 wholly apart from the processes of generalization and 
 induction in any use of those terms that is not unusual 
 and misleading. 
 
 Again, if, as we may, we term the truths connected 
 with these ideas intuitions,, we need to put them in a 
 separate class. As originating from the mind itself, they 
 are wholly different from the intuitions of sense. They 
 differ also from mathematical intuitions, as common and 
 necessary to all men. One may live his lifetime with- 
 out having it occur to him that two straight lines can- 
 not enclose a space, but he tnust know that he exists, 
 and continues to be the same person. 
 
 Again, these ideas and beliefs must be distinguished 
 from those necessary products of the mind when the In- 
 tellect is combined with the Sensibility, or with the Sen- 
 sibility and the Will. In the text the necessary products 
 of the mind are divided into three classes. Of these the 
 first differ from the others in that they are simple, and 
 do not, like beauty and obligation, admit of modification 
 by education or culture. The idea of cause, for exam- 
 ple, which is placed in the third class, not because it is 
 not given by the pure Intellect, but because it could be 
 known as cause only through the will, is the same at 
 one time as another. So of being, and personal iden- 
 tity, and of resemblance. 
 
APPENDIX. 309 
 
 Still further are these ideas removed from those high 
 abstractions, the True, the Beautiful, and the Good, 
 supposed by some, since the time of Plato, to be, in com- 
 mon with them, ideas of the Reason. The True, the 
 Beautiful, and the Good are not general ideas, since no 
 individual can be brought under them. They are not 
 given at once, or necessary to thought. They seem 
 rather to be abstractions expressive of qualities or at- 
 tributes in their most general application and highest 
 degree. Plow they differ in kind from their opposites, 
 the False, the Absurd, the Deformed, the Evil, or from 
 others less high, as the Ridiculous, the Desirable, the 
 Poetic, the Imaginative, or even from the white, used to 
 express whiteness in its highest degree, it may be diffi- 
 cult to say. But whatever they may be, they clearly 
 imply long previous processes, and have little affinity with 
 those simple and primitive ideas that enter into all our 
 thinking. 
 
 APPENDIX D. 
 
 When the Lectures were delivered reference was 
 made to IMr. Martineau at this point, and, according to 
 the stenographic report, substantially as follows : — 
 
 In speaking of obligation and of right, it is due to 
 Mr. ISIartineau, and to myself as having come independ- 
 ently to the same view with him, though I did not 
 state it as well, that I should say a word respecting the 
 position taken by him as related to my own. It wai 
 
310 APPENDIX. 
 
 eaid by me here in 1860, long before I had heard of Mr 
 IMartineau, that " we shall readily see what that form of 
 activity is to which responsibility ultimately attaches. 
 It is not volition regarded simply as an executive act ; 
 it is preference. It is that immanent act of preference 
 in which we dispose of ourselves and on which charac- 
 ter depends." ^ I said again, " We are not to eat from 
 conscience, else why the appetite ? The affections are 
 not from conscience, else they would not be original 
 parts of our nature. It is not the office of conscience to 
 supersede any of the natural principles of action, nor 
 can it ever lead to action except as there are grounds 
 for that action fiirnished by principles other than itself." ' 
 As I understand it, these two extracts — and many others 
 might be given — involve the whole doctrine of Mr. Mar- 
 tineau, except the doctrine of motives as higher and 
 lower, and that is folly treated of in the " Lectures on 
 Moral Science." The last extract makes Conscience a 
 hnowing with, in everything pertaining to Morals, as 
 Consciousness is in everything pertaining to the whole 
 mind. The same view I stated explicitly four years 
 since, when I had not seen Mr. Martineau's review of 
 Wliewell. It is, indeed, fiilly implied in the passage 
 quoted from " The Law of Love," in the eleventh lec- 
 ture to which Dr. McCosh and others have objected. 
 
 The view of Isli. Martineau is as follows. He says, 
 '^ Every moral judgment is relative and involves a com- 
 ^mrison of two terms." .... "This fact, that every 
 ethical decision is, in truth, a preference^ an election oi 
 Dne act as higher than another, appears to us of ftmd»- 
 
 1 Lectwrt9 on Moral Science, pag« IW. 
 • Id. page 22] 
 
 / 
 
APPENDIX. 311 
 
 mental importance in the analysis of our moral senti 
 ments." . . . . " Every action is right ^ which, in the pres- 
 ence of a lower principle, follows a higher ; every action 
 is wrong, which, in the presence of a higher principle, 
 follows a lower." Further on he says, " The preferen- 
 tial character attaching to all moral judgments is im- 
 plied, and yet as it seems to us very inaccurately repre- 
 sented by Butler In describing the constitution 
 
 of our nature he presents to us, first of all, as springs of 
 action, a system of ^particul.ir passions' and desires, 
 such as the bodily appetencies, pity, anger, social affec- 
 tion, each pursuing an end appropriate to itself; and 
 then, as a supplementary and crowning spring of action, 
 conscience, having also its own separate end, namely, 
 right voluntary dispositions and actions. The collection 
 of enda embraced by the former constitutes natural good^ 
 of which each ingredient in its turn is equally eligible ; 
 so that thus far our nature is a republic of equal princi- 
 ples. The single additional end of conscience consti- 
 tutes moral good, which has a natural right of suprem- 
 acy over the other Now, for our own part, after 
 
 the most diligent search, we cannot find within us this 
 autocratic faculty, having its own private and para- 
 mount end." ^ 
 
 Conscience, then, according to Mr. Martineau, never 
 acts with reference to a single end, but always to decide 
 the choice between two, each of which furnishes in itself 
 a reason for action, and the higher of which, in virtue of 
 its being higher, furnishes the ground of approval and 
 of impulse. This is precisely what I said in the passage 
 already quoted. " No man can be under obligation to 
 do an act morally right, for which there is not a reason 
 1 Hevitw of WhewtlU 
 
.'^1 2 APPENDIX. 
 
 besi l(i> its hoing right, and on the ground of wliich it is 
 right." Conscience has do separate object, as the right, 
 witli reference to which it acts. Its office is to affirm 
 obligation to choose a higher end when it comes into 
 competition with a lower one, which higher end is not 
 presented by the Conscience, but by some form of the 
 Sensibility. It must be found in some form of the good 
 of beings capable of good ; and if there were no beings 
 capable of good tXwoxxgh. a Sensibility, there could be none 
 capable of goodness through the Will. What I say, there- 
 fore, is not merely that the Will is dependent on the Sen- 
 sibility for its motives in moral action, but that the Moral 
 Nature itself is conditioned upon it, and inconceivable 
 without it. 
 
 With a high admiration for Mr. Martineau, I do not 
 agree with him on some points. I do not believe, as 
 he sppTiis ro. that wisdom and holiness are attribnr^s of 
 the Divine Being as hardness is the attribate of a stone. 
 As will be seen further on, I do not agree with him in 
 relation to the precise office of conscience, and I believe, 
 and shall endeavor to show, that we are not left to the 
 guidance of instinct alone in deciding which of our prin- 
 ciples oi action are higher and which are lower. 
 
EXPLANATION OF THE DIAGRAM. 
 
 The whole system and process of the lectures 
 is given in the Diagram. The process begins with 
 Analysis, or Separation. Man is first separated 
 from all other objects and beings ; and, by a law 
 which is found to make the structure of the uni- 
 verse below him pyramidal, he is placed at their 
 head. He is so as gathering into himself every- 
 thing which they possess, with something added. 
 
 The place of man being thus found, we separate 
 the body from the mind. As a condition for the 
 mind we examine the body first, separating it into 
 its different parts by Anatomy ; and into its dif- 
 ferent systems as functional, by Physiology ; the 
 order of the systems being determined by the 
 same law that determines the order of the forces 
 of nature. Of these forces we find the products 
 when they act according to their law. 
 
 Having examined the parts and functions of the 
 body, we pass to the Mind. That we divide into 
 the Intellect, the Sensibility, and the Will, and 
 proceed to examine them in their order. 
 
 We first take the Intellect as conditional for tha 
 
 \ 
 
314 EXPLANATION OF THE DIAGRAM. 
 
 others, and represent that as acting alone, by a 
 single vertical line. Before this we suppose ob- 
 jects to be presented in front, and necessary ideas 
 to be originated within it, which are represented 
 as thro\vn back of the line. We thus furnish the 
 Intellect, so far as that can be done acting by it- 
 self, through the Presentative and the Intuitive 
 Powers. We then consider the Representative 
 Powers, and then the Elaborative, dividing them 
 into their parts and finding their legitimate prod- 
 acts. 
 
 From the Intellect we pass to the Sensibility as 
 conditioned upon it. As thus conditioned the two 
 must act together, and we therefore represent 
 them by two lines united. We then examine the 
 forms, the processes, and the products of the two 
 united, as we had before those of the Intellect 
 singly. 
 
 We next take the WiU. And because the Will 
 is conditioned upon the other two, we represent 
 them by three lines united, and inquire aa before 
 for the contingent and the necessary processes and 
 products from their combination. This brings us 
 up to the region of Personality. It constitutes 
 the man. 
 
 The man being constituted, we pass to an en- 
 tirely different region. The tree is grown ; it is 
 Qow to bear fruit. The end of the man is free 
 rational choice and action under the government 
 9f God, with the results of such choice and action. 
 
EXPLANATION OF THE ii>iAGBAM. 315 
 
 But as CJhoice must involve an alternative, the 
 column will now divide itself into two branches ; 
 and, as we had, up to the point of choice, nature 
 and necessity, and so science, so now we have 
 these after Choice, with results differing according 
 to that. 
 
 In connection with these operations we have 
 Consciousness ; and this is so written as to indi- 
 cate its connection with them all. In connection 
 with moral operations we have also Consdenoe, 
 and this is written in the same way. 
 

 
 3 2.* 
 
 SCIOUSNESS. 
 CONSCIENCE. 
 LF-APPEOBATION. 
 
 E»J 
 
 
 C»3 
 
 
 
 
 g 
 
 t^ 
 
 § 
 
 
 i 
 
 1 I 
 
 5; ^ "p 
 
 
 
 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 REMORSE. 
 
 C»3 
 
 o 
 
 ?! 
 
 Co 
 
 
 o 
 
 Co 
 
 >3 
 
 i 
 
 > 
 
 I- 
 •< 
 
 H 
 
 G 
 > 
 
 O 
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& S }! 9 
 
 HI? 
 
 I S a 5 s; £ 
 
 ; n S % S rt 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 si 
 
 
 5= 5j t. g ^ 3= |: 
 
 * 2 ^ S ,'■ 
 
 
 H fe S "^ ^ S ^ 
 
 ;iU 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 PEODUCTS. 
 
 HO ° ^ 
 
 
 SENSIBILITT, 
 
 ■^•^ 5= o''^ 3 S= ? ^ 5= & 
 
 I i -- ^ ;• .' ^ •!■ 
 
 » fa tj 
 
 41 1: 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 NECESSARY PRODUCTS. OBLIGATION. 
 
 ^^ i\ 
 
 i- *■ 
 
 
 «^ 
 
 CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 COHSCIENCE. 
 
 SELF-APPROBATION. 
 
 I^^ll 
 
POLITICAL SCIENCE AND 
 ECONOMY. 
 
 POLITICAL SCIENCE; Or, The State Theoretical! ji and Pfacth 
 cally Considered. By THEODORE D. WOOLSEY, D.D., 
 LL.D.i late President of Yale College. 2 vols., 8vo, $5.00. 
 
 THE BOSTON TRANSCRIPT.— "No work on Political Science has ever befln 
 published in America which covers so wide a ground and which treats the sub- 
 ject 80 fairly and impartially, and with so thorough knowledge and judgment." 
 
 THE CINCINNATI GAZETTE.— " This work la indeed one of the most Im- 
 portant contributions of the century to the science ol natural and national law and 
 ethics." 
 
 THE N. Y. TRIBUNE.—" In the dlscussion of the manifold questions suggested 
 by the general theme of the work Dr. Woolsey exhibits the same cautiousness cf 
 judgment, moderation of tone, and vigor of expression which characterize Ivs 
 previous writings. His volumes abound with the signs of profound study aa 
 copious erudition as well as of original thought." 
 
 BNTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF INTERNATIONAL LAW. 
 
 Designed as an Aid in Teaching and in Hutorical Studies. 
 By THEODORE D. WOOLSEY, D.D., LL.D,, late President 
 of Yale College. Fifth edition, revised and enlarged. Crown 
 8vo, S2.50. 
 
 A complete outline of that grand sy£teni of ethical jnriflprudence 
 which holds, as it were, in one community the nations of Cimstendom. 
 Its appendix contains a most useful list of the principal treaties since 
 the Reformation. The work has no rival as a text book. 
 
 Special attention is directed to the fact that this FIFTH EDITION of Dr. 
 Woolsey's International Law is entirely re-written and enlarged, and iM printed 
 from new plates. 
 
 THE ST. LOUIS REPUBLICAN.— "A compendium treatise, intended not for 
 lawyers nor for those having the profession of law in view, but for young men who 
 are cultivating themselves by the study of historical and political Science. While 
 the work gives the state of the law of nations as it is, it compares the actual law 
 with the standard of justice, and, by exhibiting the progress of science to a 
 historical way, bringa it into coonectioa with the advances of humanity and 
 elvlllzation." 
 
POLITICAL SCIENCE AND 
 ECONOMY. 
 
 POLITICAL SCIENCE; Or, The State Theoretically and Pfact.H 
 cally Considered. By THEODORE D. WOOLSEY, D.D., 
 LL.D.i late President of Yale College. 2 vols., 8yo, $5.00. 
 
 THE BOSTON TRANSCRIPT.— "No work on Political Science has ever teen 
 published in America which covers so wide a ground and which treats the sul> 
 ject so fairly and impartially, and with bo thorough knowledge and judgment." 
 
 THE CINCINNATI GAZETTE.— «' This work iB Indeed one of the most im- 
 portant contributions of the century to the science ot natural and national law and 
 ethics," 
 
 THE N. Y. TRIBUNE.—" In the discussion of the manifold questions suggested 
 by the general theme of the work Dr. Woolsey exhibits the same cautiousness ct 
 judgment, moderation of tone, and vigor of expresalon which characterize h's 
 previous writings. His volumes abound with the signs of profound study aB 
 copious erudition as well as of original thought." 
 
 BNTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF INTERWATIONAL LAW. 
 
 Designed as an Aid in Teaching and in H'«torical Studies. 
 By THEODORE D. WOOLSEY, D.D., LL.D=, late President 
 of Yale College. Fifth edition, revised and enlarged. Crown 
 8vo, $2.50. 
 
 A complete outline of that grand sy&tem of ethical j»>riflprudence 
 which holds, as it were, in one community the nations of Christendom. 
 Its appendix contains a most useful list of the principal treaties since 
 the Reformation. The work has no rival as a text book. 
 
 Special attention is directed to the fact that this FIFTH KDITION of Dr. 
 Woolsey's International Law ia entirely re-written and enlarged, and Ia printed 
 from new plates. 
 
 THE ST. LOUIS REPUBLICAN.— "A compendium treatise. Intended not for 
 lawyers nor for those having the profession of law in view, but for young men who 
 are cultivating themselves by the study of historical and political Science. While 
 the work gives the state of the law of nations as it is, it compares the actual law 
 with the standard o- justice, and, by exhibiting the progress of scleuce to a 
 historical way, brings it into connection with the advances of humanity arjd 
 tivllization." 
 
CHARLES SCETB NEB'S SONS' 
 
 AMERICAN POLITICAL ECONOMY. By FRANCIS BOWEN, 
 Professor of Natural Religion and Moral Philosophy In 
 Harvard College. 8vo, $2.50. 
 
 This treatise presents views compatible with the idea that * ' every 
 country has a political economy of its own, suitable to its own physical 
 circumstances of position on the globe, and to the character, habits, 
 and institutions of the people." 
 
 THE PHILADELPHIA AGE,— "If onr members of Congress would vote them- 
 selves a copy of ttiis book, and read It, fewer wild schemes would be concocted 
 by them, and a great saving of time and the people's money would be secured." 
 
 THE SPRINGFIELD REPUBLICAN.— "Hi3 arguments are worth considering, 
 and his whole book Is of high value to any American to study economical ques- 
 tions." 
 
 CONTEMPORARY SOCIALISM. By JOHN RAE, M.A. New 
 
 Edition, 8vo, $2.50. 
 
 Such a book as this which Mr. Rae has written — a thorough history 
 and analysis by a man of singularly candid and liberal mind, equally 
 withont prejudice and fanaticism — has long been needed and earnestly 
 wished for by every student of socialism, and in all countries. 
 
 THE LONDON SATURDAY REVIEW.— "A useful and ably written book." 
 
 THE CONGREGATION ALIST.— "No subject more needs thorough and Im- 
 partial discussion at present than this, and the work before us by John Rae is em- 
 mently able and helpful. It is distinguished In a remarkable degree by breadth of 
 view and the grasp of underlying and widely reaching principles, and also by his 
 minuteness of detail and the careful relation of facts and figures in support of ita 
 position." 
 
 COMMUNISM AND SOCIALISM. In their History and Theory. 
 A Sketch; By THEODORE D. WOOLSEY, D.D., LL.D., 
 
 late President of Yale College. 12mo, $1.50. 
 
 This book is the only comprehensive review of its subject, within 
 small compass, yet exactly meeting the needs of the reader, that is ac- 
 cessible in English. The candor of the discussion is remarkable ; the 
 book is the argument of a perfectly fair reasoner, painting nothing ii> 
 too dark colors, but taking his opponents at their best. 
 
 THE N. Y. COMMERCIAL ADVERTISER.— "The work is an epitome of the 
 history of the socialistic and communistic movement, and will prove a most valu- 
 able text book to ail who have not made themselves familiar with this greal 
 Bubject." 
 
STANDARD TEXT BOOKS. 
 
 POLITICAL ECONOMY. By ARTHUR LATHAM PERRY, Pro- 
 fessor of History and Political Economy in Williams College. 
 Crown 8vo, $2.50. 
 
 Professor Perry's book haa passed through many editions and hag 
 recently been subjected to a thorough revision and recasting. Hia 
 work is a complete exposition of the Science of Political Economy both 
 historically and topically, his style is admirably clear and racy ; hia 
 illustrations are forcible and well chosen, and he has made a subject 
 interesting and open to the comprehension of any diligent student, 
 which has often been left by writers vague and befogged and bewilder- 
 ing. This work has stood excellently the test of the class room, and 
 has been adopted by many of the chief educational institutions in this 
 country. Among them are Yale College, Bowdoin College, Dartmouth, 
 Trinity, Wesleyan, University of Wooster, Denison University, 
 Rutgers College, New York University, Union College, and many other 
 colleges and normal and high schools. 
 
 T. D. WOOLSEY, President of Yale College.— "Yoxix book Interests stndenta 
 more than any I have ever instructed from." 
 
 THE NEW YORK TIMES.— "As a manual lor general reading and popular 
 Instruction, Prof. Perry's book is far superior to any work on the subject before 
 Issued in the United States." 
 
 THE NATION.— "We cordially recommend this book to all, of whatever school 
 of poUtical economy, who enjoy candid statement and full and logical discussion." 
 
 THE INDEPENDENT-— "There is more common sense in this book than in any 
 of the more elaborate works on the same subject that have preceded it. It is the 
 most interesting and valuable one that has been given to the American public on 
 this Important subject." 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO POLITICAL ECONOMY. By ARTHUR 
 LATHAM PERRY, Professor of History and Political Econ- 
 omy in Williams College. Revised edition. 12moj $1.50. 
 
 FROIVI THE PREFACE.— "I have endeavored in this book 80 to lay the founda- 
 tions of Political Economy in their whole circuit, that they will never need to be 
 disturbed afterwards by persons resorting to it for their early Instruction, how- 
 ever long and however far these persons may pursue their studies in this science." 
 
 THE N. Y. EVENING POST.— "This work is not meant In any way to take 
 the place of Its author's larger treatise, but rather to occupy a field which. In the 
 nature of the case, that work cannot occupy. It is net aa abridgment of that 
 work but a separate treatise, intended primarily for the use of students and 
 readers whose time for study is small, but who wish to learn the broad prmciples 
 of the science thoroughly and well, especially with reference to the scientlCc 
 principles which are Involved in the practical discussions of our time. • • • We 
 need scarcely add, with respect to a writer so well known as he, that his thinking 
 Is sound as well as acute, or that his doctrines are those whlcli the greatest 
 masters of political science have approved.'' 
 
CHARLES SCRIBNERS SONS' 
 
 EPOCHS OF HISTORY. 
 
 CHARLES KENDALL ADAMS, PreslOent of Cornell University.^" A Series 
 of concise and carefully prepared volumes on special eras of history. Eacti is 
 devoted to a group of events of such Importance as to entitle it to be regarded as 
 an epoch. Each la also complete in itself, and has no especial connection with 
 the other members of the serlea. The works are all written by authors selected 
 by the editor on account of some especial qualifications for a portrayal of the 
 period they respectively describe. The volumes form an excellent collection, 
 especially adapted to the wants of a general reader." 
 
 NOAH PORTER, President of rale College.— "The ' Epochs of History ' seem 
 to me to have been prepared with knowledge and artistic skill to meet the wants 
 of a large number of readers. To the young they furnish an outline or compen- 
 dium which may serve as an Introduction to more extended study. To those 
 who are older they present a convenient sketch of the heads of the knowledge 
 which they have already acquired. The outlines are by no means destitute of 
 spirit, and may be used with great profit for family reading, and in select classes 
 or reading clubs." 
 
 BISHOP JOHN F. HURST, Ex-President of Drew TTieological Seminary.— 
 " It appears to me that the Idea of Morris in his Epochs is strictly in harmony 
 with the philosophy of liistory-tnamely, that great movements should be treated 
 not according to narrow geographical and national limits and distinction, but 
 universally, according to their place In the general life of the world. The histor- 
 ical Maps and the copious Indices are welcome additions to the volumes." 
 
 THE NATION.—" The volumes contain the ripe results of the studies of men 
 who are authorities In their respective fields." 
 
 EPOCHS OF ANCIENT HISTORY. A series of books narrating 
 the History of Greece and Rome, and of their relations to 
 other countries at successive epochs. Edited by Rev. G. W. 
 COX, and CHARLES SANKEY, M.A. Eleven volumes, 
 16mo, v^ith 41 Maps and Plans. Sold separately. Price per 
 vol., $1.00. The set, Roxburgh style, gilt top, in box, $11.00. 
 
 TEOT— ITS LEGEND, HISTORY. AND LITERATURE. By S. Q. W. BENJAilDJ. 
 
 THE GREEKS AND THE PERSIANS. By G. W. Cox. 
 
 THE ATHENIAN EMPIRE. Cy G. W. Cox. 
 
 THE SPARTAN AND THEBAN SUPREMACIES. By Chables Sanket. 
 
 THE MACEDONIAN EMPIRE. By A. M. CUBTEIS. 
 
 EARLY ROME. By W. Ihxe. 
 
 ROME AND CARTHAGE. The Punic Wars. By R. Boswobth Smith. 
 
 THE GRACCHI, MARIUS AND SULLA. By A. H. Beesley. 
 
 THE ROMAN TRIUMVIRATES. By Charles Merivale. 
 
 THE EARLY E:\IPIRE. By W. Wolfe Capes. 
 
 TUB AGE OF THE ANTONINES. By W. Wolfe Capes. 
 
STANDARD TEXT BOOKS. 
 
 EPOCHS OF" MODERN HISTORY. A series of books narrating 
 the History of England and Europe at successive epoch? 
 subsequent to the Christian era. Edited by EDWARD E. 
 MORRIS. Eighteen volumes, l6mo, with 77 Maps, Plans, 
 and Tables. Sold separately. Price per vol., $1.00. The 
 set, Roxburgh style, gilt top, in box, $18.00. 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF THE MIDDLE AGES. By R. W. Church. 
 
 THE NORMANS IN EUROPE. By A. H. Johnson. 
 
 THE CRUSADES. By G. W. Cox, M.A. 
 
 THE EARLY PLANTAGENETS. By Wm. Stubbs. 
 
 EDWARD m. By W. Wabbubton. 
 
 THE HOUSES OF LANCASTER AND YORK. By James Gaibdneb. 
 
 THE ERA OF THE PROTESTANT REVOLUTION. By Frederic Seebohm. 
 With Notes on Books In English relating to the Reformation. By Prof. 
 George P. Fisher, D.D. 
 
 THE EARLY TUDORS. Henry VH.; Henry Vin. By C. E. Moberly. 
 
 THE AGE OF ELIZABETH. By M. Creighton. 
 
 THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR, 1618-1648. By SAMUEL Rawson GARDINER. 
 
 THE PURITAN REVOLUTION. By Samuel Rawson Gardiner. 
 
 THE FALL OF THE STUARTS. By Edward Hale. 
 
 THE AGE OF ANNE. By Edward E. Morris. 
 
 THE EARLY HANOVERIANS. By Edward E. Mobris. 
 
 FREDERICK THE GREAT. By F. W. Longman. 
 
 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION AND FIRST EMPIRE. By William O'Connor 
 Morris. With Appendix by Andrew D. White, LL.D. 
 
 THE EPOCH OF REFORM, 1830-1850. By Justin McCarthy. 
 
 THE ENGLISH RESTORATION AND LOUIS XIV. By Osmund Aiey, M. A. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ROME, from the Earliest Time to the Period 
 of Its Decline. By Dr. THEODOR MOMMSEN. Translated, 
 with the author's sanction and additions, by W. P. Dickson, 
 D.D., LL.D. With an Introduction by Dr. Leonhard Schmitz. 
 Reprinted from the Revised London Edition. Four volumes 
 crown 8vo, gilt top. Price per set, $8.00. 
 
 LONDON TIMES.— "A work of the very highest merit; Its learning is exact 
 and profound ; its narrative full of genius and skill ; Its descriptions of men are 
 admirably vivid. We wish to place on record our opinion that Dr. Mommsen's la 
 by far the best history of the DecUne and Fall of the Roman Commonwealth." 
 
 DR. SCHMITZ.— "Since the days of Niebuhr, no work on Roman History has 
 appeared that combines so much to attract, Instruct, and charm the reader. Its 
 Btyle— a rare quality in a German author— Is vigorous, spirited, and animated 
 Professor Mommsen's work can stand a comparison with the noblest productlona 
 •I modem history." 
 
AN OUTLINE STUDY OF MAN ; tar, the Body 
 and Mind in One System. With illustrative diagrams. 
 By Mark IIorKiNS, D.D., LL.D., late President of Williams 
 College. I vol., i2mo, $1.75- 
 
 Few colleges owe so much to the influence of a single man as 
 the institution, with which Dr. Hopkins has so long been identi- 
 fied, owes to his genius for instruction and to the weight of his 
 character. His power of making abstuse and difficult matters 
 clear and easily mastered, of interesting and stimulating his pupils 
 and of impressing them with his own lofty views, have given 
 him an almost unique position as an educator. 
 
 Among all his works, that which illustrates best his peculiar 
 lucid mode of teaching difficult subjects is An Outline Study of , 
 Man, which is a model of the developing method as applied to 
 intellectual science The work is on an entirely new plan. It 
 presents man in his unity, and his several faculties and their rela- 
 tions are so presented to the eye in illustrative diagrams as to be 
 readily apprehended. 
 
 Dr. Hopkins' work has come into more general use in this 
 country than any other book designed for instruction in mental 
 science. It has been found to be better adapted for educational 
 uses than any other, and the demand for it is increasing every year. 
 
 THE LAW OF LOVE, AND LOVE AS A LAW; 
 or, Christian Ethics, i vol., i2mo, $1.75. 
 
 This work is designed to follow the author's Outline Study of 
 Man. As its title indicates it is entirely an exposition of the 
 cardinal precept of Christian philosophy in harmony with nature 
 and on the basis of reason. 
 
 Like the treatise on mental philosophy it is adapted with un- 
 usual skill to educational uses. 
 
 It appears in a new edition, which has been in part rewritten 
 in order to bring it into closer relation to his Outline Study of 
 Man, of which work it is really a continuation. More prominence 
 has been given to the idea of Rights, but the fundamental doctrines 
 of the treatise have not been changed. The very interesting cor- 
 respondence with Dr. McCosh is retained. 
 
 From an able review of the work on its first appearance we 
 quote the following : 
 
 "In this work Dr. Hopkins has given the world a clear exposition of the 
 principles of moral science, and practical rules for their application. The sim- 
 plicity, strength, and exactness of its style and language ; its discriminating 
 analysis and forcible logic ; its accurate adjustments of relative truths ; its 
 admirable blending of the independence of human reason with dependence 
 upon the Divine mind ; — in all these respects we have no hesitation in saying thaC 
 its combined excellences place the work at the head of all similar treatises." 
 
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